Tuesday, December 21, 2010

Drunk Chat Night and a Giveaway!

Remember when I told you that we were going to have a drunken chat on Saturday night via the 20sb chat room? Yeah, that totes happened.

I signed on before I'd even taken my first sip of Four Loko, ready to start the night as soon as possible. The plan was that it would just be me and Andy home, watching MST3K while I drunk chatted away. Except somehow I ended up inviting my sister-in-law and best friend over because I apparently forgot what huge distractions those two bitches are.

I ended up surviving in drunk chat for approximately one hour. In that one hour, we played the most hilarious high school cheerleader game ever called Never Have I Ever. Have you ever played this as an adult? When we've all done everything, ifyaknowwhatimean? It really makes you feel like a Whores 'R Us. And I was actually drinking when I was supposed to be drinking like a real champ.

After realizing that my typing needed to be stopped on account of the millions of typos and exclamation points and butchered half smiley faces, I noticed that Lily was online. And that Lily has Skype. And I have Skype. And we were both drinking. And this became the Christmas miracle of the night.

I immediately Skyped Lily, and we e-met like a couple of drunk bitches in a bar. I was chugging Four Loko like a sorority girl, and she was chugging tequila STRAIGHT FROM THE BOTTLE. I knew at this point that Lily was definitely going to be putting out at the end of our date.

All the details of Saturday night are a little fuzzy, so you might have to ask Lily (if she remembers), but I'm pretty sure I made an ass of myself several times by laughing hysterically at nothing. And at one point, we decided that Lily should play Waterfall with us. When I tried to prop the laptop on the couch next to me, my sister-in-law said, "WTF? Get her a chair, Sara!" like I was the one acting like a crazy person. So I dragged a dining room chair out of the kitchen just to place it next to the coffee table just to place Lily on it just so she could see the cards and play the game with us. Ridiculous, I tell you.

Everyone and their mom plays Waterfall differently. (For instance, my mom plays with no alcohol and instead of cards, she hands out punishments and disapproving stares.) So every time a five got pulled, I had to make sure Lily knew what it stood for by leaning into the laptop and yelling, "FIVE, LILY! IT'S FIVE! HIT YOUR HEAD!" which made for a really smooth game, obviously.

At one point, Lily got disconnected from the internet, and we gave up. Also, I puked at 5 AM. Classy as shit, y'all.

And here is the picture I promised you of "The Thanksgiving Shirt That Looks Absolutely Nothing Like a Girl's Shirt Ever In the History of Ever." I took this picture right when I woke up today because I love you which also explains the horrible quality and yucky bangs.


And now it's time for another blog giveaway! I purchased this badass hat and glove set from Erin at Ultra Cute Crochet. You can look at her other stuff here or here. It made it to my house super fast, and I'm in lurve. And she didn't pay me to say those things. (But I totes don't turn down free money, if you want to offer me a millionty dollars.) Andy keeps calling me a hipster because of my gloves, and I keep calling him a dickhole because I look adorable and warm.
And here's the hat I'm giving away!
My face is saying, "I really like this hat and don't particularly want to give it away. Sad panda." It's a very pretty blue, and it has a bow on the side and also it grants wishes and cures world hunger. Since it's almost Christmas and everyone is exhausted and broke as shit, all you have to do to enter the giveaway is leave a comment below. One entry per comment, and you can only enter up to 3 times because we don't want any greedy bitchezz round hurrrrr.

I'll be busy with three Christmases in two days this year, so I probably won't be writing much before the new year unless I die on the way to Oklahoma in a freak car accident in which case my computer will send out emails informing all of you about my death and giving you your speeches for my funeral and exact specifications about what panties I should be wearing. (These things are important, y'all.)

Thursday, December 16, 2010

Vaginal Napkins and Slutty Shirts

First of all, if you haven't seen our 90s karaoke or showtunes karaoke, you need to. Second of all, next month's theme looks like it's going to be any song you can think of with the word "fuck" in it. This is a pretty broad category, so no excuses, you whiny bitches. If you don't want to say the word fuck (weird), you can always bleep it out. It's a blast, and Andy is making us buttons! If you want to join, email me at tatorhead328 at yahoo dot com.

Oh, and I put a poll up about what kind of vlogs y'all like best. I've had a ridiculous amount of fun making them. (No, seriously. It's beyond normal.) Also, if you're on 20sb, we plan on having a get-drunk-and-chat night on Saturday. It should be pretty incredible because I'm all about the Four Lokos this weekend and will probably forget half of what I do/say.

Also, I got to Skype last night for the first time ever. It was kind of like going on a first date except that we couldn't go for the yawn, sneeze, boob grab on account of being hundreds of miles away from each other. Let Down City, Population:  One. On the good side, it wasn't anywhere near as awkward as I expected. That might have had something to do with the two beers I drank right before. Oh, and Andy sat off to the side the whole time, shaking his head at us. He's SO jealous.

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Andy and I started dating in October 2008. The day before Thanksgiving, I went over to his house to watch movies and hold hands and gaze into each other's eyes and that's ALL, okay, Mom? So I might have ended up staying the night, obviously sleeping in a different room because it would be sinful to even be in the same room with the door closed after midnight, so says Baby Jesus and the Mormons.

So Thanksgiving afternoon, I woke up panicking about the fact that I only had one set of clothes, and they were not exactly appropriate for a holiday meal with the family.

"Maybe I could just wear this shirt?" I said, holding up Andy's long sleeved too-large shirt that I had slept in the night before. "If I wear it with jeans and tuck it in and wear a belt, maybe it will look like it was meant for a girl?"

Hint:  That shirt absolutely, in no way, shape, or form, looked like it could ever be anything other than a "I fucked my boyfriend last night and all I got was this stupid boy shirt" shirt. (Remind me to post a picture of this shirt later because I totes still have it.)

When I walked in my mom's house, I was prepared to gorge myself on delicious holiday food and then run as fast as I could to my car before anyone realized I hadn't helped with dishes at all. The immediate response from my mother was a "Hey, how are y...." when she trailed off and stared awkwardly at my shirt, obviously at a loss for words. "Is that........ is that a man's shirt?" she asked suspiciously. "Pfffffft! Oh, Mom. Ohhhh, you. Don't be ridiculous." And then I stuffed a handful of bread in my mouth and ran away before the wrath of her laser beam premarital sex zapper eyes could turn me into a nun.

On another note regarding things that happened at the beginning of my relationship with Andy, sometimes things happen concerning vaginas that aren't all that attractive. Like hairy bushes or smelly vaginas or infections. And sometimes people have to buy things for the infection problem like sanitary napkin things. Totes normal.

One day, I left my perfectly normal, no, it's not weird at all, stopjudgingme, napkin things in the work bathroom. After sleeping at Andy's house one weeknight (having totally innocent pillow fights and drinking hot cocoa until bedtime at which point we went to separate rooms and dreamed of Jesus and love), I woke up to a text message from the boyfriend himself. (He got to work earlier than me.) The text said, "Someone left their vagina wipes in the bathroom at work! Haha! How embarrassing!"

FUCKING FUCKITY FUCK. FUCK FUCK.

(There goes my Adsense approval!)

I texted back something like, "HA HA HA Sooooo embarrassing HA HA I would totally die if that was me let'sstoptalkingaboutthisnowplease."

And it took me over two years to finally tell Andy this story. It's almost unfair how classy I am, y'all.

Thursday, December 9, 2010

Karaoke Night: Showtunes!

You all remember last month's karaoke, right? If you don't, it was awesome, and it's happening again. Last month's theme was 90s, and this month's theme ended up being showtunes. I'm going to start off by saying PLEASE blame the Four Loko for my video. I take zero responsibility for this video. ZERO. I had to edit the shit out of that video just so y'all wouldn't make fun of me and throw an egg at my head instead of picking me up for prom and then I go inside and cry all night.

If you want to see mine (please don't), go visit Jami's blog. It isn't posted yet, so I'm really hoping that y'all will forget to go back and watch it. Everyone else's videos are amazing, and mine is..... lesbian trucker. You should probably just go to Jamie's blog and read the things she writes because they are much, much better than my awful video.

I get to host one of the only boy karaoke-ers. This is Lost from You Know What Really Grinds My Gears who, by the way, picked a great song choice. He is always hilarious and always adorable, plus he has an accent which means that 90% of the girls participating in this blog ring would bone him. Stopjudging.

Lost sings "I Feel Pretty" from Danger Mouse on Vimeo.

And thank God I got Jami's video in time to get it on here because it is amaaaaaaazing. Not to mention, she can actually sing unlike some of us. *ahem* (me). Check out her blog - the link is up there!


Thank you, Risha, for organizing this month. You're amazing.

I'll add links to everyone else's karaoke videos as they're posted:

Mandy Moore with Love is Strange
Michelle with Part of Your World
Ash with Going Through the Motions
Christina with Something to Sing About
Risha with Do-Re-Mi
Cassie with Circle of Life
Jes with Out Tonight
Shelly with I Enjoy Being a Girl
Alexandra with Hard Knock Life
Ginny with Something Better
Erin with One Song Glory
Tabitha with Any Dream Will Do
Kandace with The Sun Will Come Out Tomorrow
Me with Top That
Bianca with When You're Good to Mama
Matt with Louder Than Words
Lauren with S.O.S.

Thursday, December 2, 2010

Christmas Trees = Divorce

So last week, I thought I was failing all my classes and I was all SCHOOL IS AWFUL AND MY LIFE IS OVER AND FUCK THIS SHIT I'M TOTES QUITTING AND NEVER LOOKING BACK SO TAKE THAT, SCHOOL. Except then yesterday, I realized that I'm actually not failing my classes, and there's a 90% chance that I'm going to pass every single one of them even though I fucked off for 3/4 of the semester and then I was all "Um, just kidding, school! Let's get coffee or something!" And that is the story of how me and School got back together.

I was sexcited about this new knowledge and told Andy that I would need a Christmas tree to celebrate. And he took out a flaming arrow, dusted it off, looked me in the eye, and shot me straight in the heart. (This is the part where Andy says, "REALLY?" super loudly AKA "Woman, why are you exaggerating so goddamn much and while you are up, make me a sammich." That's right. When you translate Andyspeak, he becomes a sexist.) At least, that's what it felt like when he told me we couldn't get our Christmas tree until the 10th because otherwise it would die early and all the ornaments would fall off and other made up things that he made up just so I couldn't have my Christmas tree and by the way, did I tell you these things are just made up?

Luckily, I have amazing conversation skillz, yo. And all it took was some pouty face in the corner for a few minutes until Andy sighed super loud and was all, "Are we going to go?" with raised eyebrows that signified I needed to push him out the door immediately before he changed his mind.

So we went to pick out our tree at the local home improvement store because I don't do fake trees on account of my mom making us use a fake tree every year and my Christmas hopes and dreams being shattered on account of there not being a Christmasy tree smell in my house. We chose a fairly small one (five feet) because our living room ceiling isn't really that tall and because I'm far too lazy to decorate an eight foot tall tree. (Hello? It's me we're talking about here.) The guy who wrapped our tree up asked us if we wanted anything done to it, and I was like "RAWR" except I didn't yell it, I just said it very quietly and he laughed and laughed (at least that's what I imagine he would have done if he had actually heard my whispers) (because I'm hilarious) (right?) (riiiiiiight?) (oh, forget y'all).

When we got it home, we set it up and spent the first 30 minutes saying, "Get away from that tree!" and "That tree is NOT for peeing!" and "Fuckity fuck fuck, Penny Lane, GET AWAY FROM THAT TREE." After that, we realized life would be much easier if the dogs went outside while I decorated. I strung the lights up with Andy's help and was all proud of how fast I had finished when I stepped back to look at the whole tree and realized that the lights were all lopsided and my tree looked like it had Down Syndrome.

When I said it had to be redone, Andy, the queen of the passive aggressive sigh, starting helping me restring the lights. But when I'm decorating a Christmas tree, I'm kind of like a crackhead on more crack than usual, and I just ended up shouldering him out of the way until he just stood there, looking sad and underused and I started to feel bad. Jerk.

Since he was making me feel guilty and shit, I did what any loving fiancee would do and told him to sit on the couch because this Christmas Lightsorama was going to be a while and I didn't want him to be signing divorce papers by the fifteenth time we were restringing lights.

Three restringing parties later, I just gave up and said fuck it, this will do the lights were perfect! And I'm pretty sure Andy still likes me a little! Yay Christmas!

Our tree looks very pretty and has a lopsided star on the top ("It makes it look like an exclamation mark," I told Andy), a black candy cane in the very front (I made it in kindergarden and my mom never let me put it on the front of our tree), and an "our first Christmas" ornament that my mom got us that has a picture of two people kissing. I do not know who these two people are, but it looks like they had a wonderful first Christmas, and if it was a picture of mine and Andy's actual first Christmas, we would probably be making fuck-this-expensive-christmas-bullshit faces.

Can I also mention how silly men are right now? Because Andy put one, wait a second, let that sink in, ONE ornament on the tree and immediately said/yelled, "I helped decorate the tree! December 1, 2010! I helped! Remember that!" and then he yawned and sat on the couch looking quite tuckered out from that exhausting tree decorating job.

All in all, our tree is awesome even if it is a little lopsided and has a crooked star on top, and a black candy cane right in the front.

Oh, and I've decided that Christmasex should be a word.

Also, have y'all noticed that I still have my Halloween header up? And no one has called me out on it? I'm like that house on the street who leaves their Christmas lights up all year round. I'm working on a new one, okay? Get off my back, jeez.

P. S. We're doing another karaoke blog ring in December, and the genre is "showtunes". If you want to join in, send me an email or something! (And by "or something" I do mean what you think I mean.)

Tuesday, November 30, 2010

Jesus Christ, This Post is a Mess.

Okay, so I've obviously been MIA for a while. I blame the karaoke video. How the fuck could I top that? Btdubs, the next karaoke theme is going to be show tunes and OHMYFUCKINGGOD do I have the best song ever or what. (There was a hint in that paragraph on what song I'm doing. Maybe you can figure it out if you're supah smart. And maybe I'll send you a prize if you do it. And by it, I do mean what you think I mean.)

Just. Fucking. Wait.

Anyexcusesexcuses, I have finals next week which means it is ON after that. I plan on getting drunk and making lots of things grow, ifyouknowwhatimean. Except seriously because my bloggity friend sent me a box full of things that grow with water (and a little stroking probably).

Oh, and me and Andy have another bet going. We're both going to get prezzies for that Operation Santa thing, but don't be all "AWWWW y'all are the sweetest evah!" because this is totally selfish. I'm only doing this because I bet Andy that my present would kick all kinds of his present's ass. So I'm picking out an amazingly wonderful awesome cool girl present and he's picking out some stupid ass boy toy. (ifyouknowwhatimean?)

In other news, we went to Andy's mother's house for Thanksgiving, and she blessed me with the holy-est of all holy grails. She gave me........ HOME VIDEOS.

We started watching one of them, and it was all adorable and sweet and Andy with a baby lisp. And then? And then! His grandma was on the video rocking some daisy dukes, for reals, y'all. We were laughing about it while his grandpa filmed his grandma telling a story until grandpa apparently got sidetracked because he zoomed in on grandma's foot and started slowly panning up her leg and we were all "Um... what's going on..." until he panned all the way up to her VAGINA and we were all "OHMYGOD, MY EYES TAKE MY EYES PRECIOUS BABY JESUS, GRANDMA VAGINA AHHHHH" and then I'm pretty sure I died.

Also, my friend started a blog, and she was my little sister on danceline which probably means nothing to you mofos but it's special, goddamnit, so just accept it and move on. She wrote a post about Louisiana, and I liked it so I'm linking it and there's nothing you can do about it. If you leave a comment, tell her I said hi on account of she lives in Kansas for right now and I haven't seen her in about twenty thousand years (that's only a slight exaggeration).

I feel like this blog post is super hostile. But I'm on my period which exempts me from all charges, I'm pretty sure.

Oh, and I added some ads on the right side, so if you see something that interests you, clickity click it and you can donate pennies to the that-bitch-needs-a-goddamn-haircut fund. And then Adsense can yell at me because I'm not supposed to even mention ads or something and by the way, how the fuck did Adsense approve my account because the rules say "no excessive profanity" and the name of my blog is Sara Swears A. LOT. bitches. Obviously the people who take care of this bit-ness have no clue what they're doing, but I'm okay with that. I'll probably be kicked out of the Adsense team, mocked and ridiculed, for my "excessive profanity" and braces and frizzy hair and fat lardy stomach and shit, my bad, just reliving middle school over here.

Jesus Christ, this post is a mess.

Tuesday, November 16, 2010

I Got Screwed

Oh, you filthy, filthy bastards. I know you got all sexcited when you saw the title to this post. Unfortunately, this post will not be about me getting screwed.

Anyways, Wife came up with a great prompt for today, and I'm totes rolling with it. Here's the prompt:

In honor of Thanksgiving, and the beginning of a long line of colonists screwing over Native Americans, post about a time that you took advantage of someone. Or if you don't want to be that revealing about your darker side, write about a time that someone took advantage of you.

If you want to see the other posts, go here.

And so it begins......

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Andy and I got in a huge, blow up fight once about something that I can't remember but was probably as stupid as leaving a motherfucking Cheerio on the floor. Anyways, I was really mad and going to stay with my mom for the night. Before I left, I wanted to make sure that Andy would really, really miss me.

So I grabbed all the toilet paper.

And walked in the kitchen.

And put it in the sink.

And turned the water on full blast.

When Andy told his sister this story, she was all, "Wow, that was a bitch move... but you have to admit, it's pretty fucking funny."

Pretty fucking funny indeed.

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And then there is the ever classic story about how I got fired from one of my previous jobs. I believe this falls in the category of me getting screwed over.

In conclusion, I'm pretty sure all of these things could somehow be someone else's fault and not mine. Because I obviously don't take responsibilty for my own actions.

But that toilet paper thing was pretty fucking funny, right?

Wednesday, November 10, 2010

Karaoke Night!

So a few of us came up with this great idea for a karaoke blog ring, in which we all sing and dance and make fools of ourselves. And for once, we actually came through on something instead of just talking about it and forgetting five seconds later. Our theme for our first ever Karaoke Vlog Night was 90s music because seriously? The 90s were pretty fucking amazing.

If you want to see my video (Spice Girls so the answer is obviously, YES), go to risha's blog and just be warned that I was drunk so I'm pretty sure that means I can't be held accountable for any dancing or jumping around or forgetting words that I did.

Now I have two videos to show today since we have a last minute addition. The first is from Harley over at Domestic Depravity. Her intro is the email I received with her video:

YOU SHOULD KNOW that I blame you for the fact that I am drunk TA HALF SICX in the evening ON my won after doing my karaoke video I know it was going to be a mix and I did actually DO a mix but then I deleted them all and jjust left the BACKSTREET BOYS and the worst part is I',m not evein sure it' sa 90s song because the backstreet bosys are like the dinosaurs and have neeben beeen around FORVERER except theyre not extinct.

Plus she's super adorable, so you know you're going to watch it whether I give you an introduction or not. (PS - Her song is from 1997, so she's good.)



The next video is from Lalalalauren at Lauren vs. Reality. All I want to say before you view this video is that I laughed so hard, I got the hiccups.



Thanks, ladies! All the videos I've seen so far have been great! We're going to try to do this again next month, so if you have a topic idea or want to participate, send me an email at tatorhead328 at yahoo dot com.

Here are links to others participating in the karaoke vlog night. I'll add links to this post as the videos are uploaded.

Me with Wannabe
Mandy with The Safety Dance
Risha with a mashup of Tubthumping, Stop, Don't Speak, You Stole the Sun From My Heart, and Picture of You
Erin with What I Got
Alexandra with I'm a Player
Tabitha with Head Over Feet
Christina with Drive
Lorraine with Smooth
Lost with Peaches
Matt with Stay
Jes with You Outta Know

This should be all of them!

Tuesday, November 2, 2010

Halloween Intoxivlog

Stories to follow.
video


This is a 10 second teaser of my karaoke video for our 20sb karaoke blog ring. We decided on 90s music. In case you're wondering why I'm jumping back and forth like that, I was pretending to be the two different singers. FYI.

video

Monday, November 1, 2010

Happy Halloween!

Hope your Halloweens were wonderful! Andy made this video just for y'all. No sound necessary if you're at work. : )




PS - I have many stories about being drunk off Four Lokos again for Halloween, tripping going on stage for the costume contest, and a video I made just for you. (Yes, you.) Dude. Halloween kicks ass.

PSS - If you didn't watch The Walking Dead on AMC.... SHAME ON YOU.

Sunday, October 31, 2010

Bloggerstock: Ghost Stories

Okay, it's bloggerstock time again, y'all! I have an amazing guest blogger named Jennifer coming over here for Halloween to share a spooky story. During a series of email exchanges, we both realized that we are ah-maz-ing because we adore Teen Mom, Rock of Love, Flavor of Love, etc. etc. etc. and then some. Afterwards, Jennifer made one statement that really stuck out to me. I believe this quote about working a haunted house truly expresses just why I like her.


"I hope I make some poor child piss their pants."


That's my goal on a pretty regular basis.


If you want to read mine (it's not that great, trust) head over to the other Jennifer's blog. Because for this bloggerstock, I'm apparently in a Jennifer sandwich.


Rawr.


And on to the show..... here's Jennifer!

Bloggerstock is basically a blog-swap event …OF. EPIC. PROPORTIONS! Or, so they’re getting there. Every month, you can sign up to participate. There is a topic everyone has to write about and you are assigned a blog to post on. You also receive a guest to post on your blog. And around and around we go. You can check out my blog to see a guest post from Bret at Slightly Disappointing. It’s fun, so sign up!

The topic this month is: "Spooky- Tell your best ghost story, it can be real or fiction. If you don't have a ghost story, then tell us about your favorite Halloween costume."

Well, I'm going to do BOTH!

And onto my post!!

I was never one who wanted to believe in ghosts, afraid I might channel some dead person who used to live in my house to appear to me when I was alone. Then, knowing my luck, my “channel” would be open and all kinds of poltergeist would come into my life, sucking me into televisions and throwing me in mud pools filled with skeletons.

My grandmother passed away in 2004, and as much as I think I would like to see her one more time, to hear her voice again, I just know that if she appeared IRL (“in real life” for those of you not familiar with popular lingo), I would freak out. So instead, I’m content with dreams about her and with small “happenings” in my world, which I pretty much convince myself is her. Let’s go through our evidence, shall we?

1. My mom is not a crazy, yet she has heard her mother call out her name early in the morning.

2. My parents had a clock radio that they used for an alarm. The alarm was set to a popular hits channel that my mom frequently listens to. This radio kept going off at times when she did not have an alarm set. My dad would turn it off and they wouldn’t think anything of it from there. Then, on my grandmother’s birthday, the alarm went off again….and it was tuned to an oldies station. Which my parents never listen to. Which my grandmother was a big fan of. Again, my dad turned off the alarm and they went about their weekend activities. However, 10 minutes later, the alarm went off again. Oldies, again. Finally my mom unplugged the radio all while saying, “Happy Birthday, Mom”.

3. Again, on my grandmother’s birthday of a different year, my aunt was sitting at her computer at home, thinking of her mother, when her son’s flashlight that was on the desk next to her turned on. She picked it up, made sure everything was screwed tightly, turned it off, and laid it on the desk again. A couple of minutes later, it turned on again. The next day, I had the same thing happen to me.

Who knows if ghosts/angels actually exist. Small happenings like that make me happy that some communication might be going on within my family. We have also distinctly heard pennies being dropped into our piggy bank a couple of months after my great-grandmother died. She was a big believer in saving all of your coins. Who knows how the universe works?

On my other part of the topic: I was Harry Potter once for Halloween and this guest post would probably not be appreciated by my host if I didn't include this:




I cast spells. And apparently look like a bat more than anything else.

Thursday, October 28, 2010

Jack Off Lantern Carving Contest!

First of all, thank you to EVERYONE who commented / read / skimmed / pretended to read (bitches) my last post. It's hard putting myself out there, but y'all made it easier. It felt good to get it all out, and I'm already doing better. Now on to the bullshit!

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Every morning, Andy wakes up first and lets the big dogs out in the backyard to go to the bathroom. After he takes a shower, he wakes me up, and I let the dogs in before I leave for work. This plan usually works very well. (ahem, foreshadowing, cough cough.)

Last night, it rained. And by rained, I mean it motherfucking rained. Thirty minutes of The Amazing Race was cut off due to tornado warnings and thunderstorm warnings, as usual. We're so used to tornado warnings at this point that every time the stupid fucking news channel interrupts one of our thousand shows, we yell, "What the fuck is wrong with you, Weatherman?! We're used to these goddamn tornados by now. If you hear a humpback whale? LET US KNOW THAT SHIT."

All that to say.... it fucking rained.

And ANDY we apparently forgot that little detail when ANDY we put her out there. So this is what I saw first thing in the morning:

BITCH!

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I was telling a friend that when I was in middle school, the preacher at church would tell us that (whispers) *masturbating* was a sin. Some boy at school shattered my innocent mind when he told me, "All guys jack it, duh." I specifically remember thinking, "My dad would never do that. That's so disgusting. Also, my future husband doesn't do that."

Yes, you guys. I used to refer to my future husband often. In church, they told us we should pray for them, so I did. Sweet, naive me was praying for Andy probably while he was doing bong hits in his friend's basement.

God help us.

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I need ideas on how to make my toofuckingbigbutthatmakesmehappy Halloween costume shirt fit without the belt and without sewing since I am not a Little Suzie Homemaker as much as I wish I fucking was. Help me!


Also, someone told me it wasn't skanky enough, so should I also wear a button that says Free Blow Jays or Skanks 'R Me?

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And finally......... THE JACK OFF LANTERN CARVING CONTEST!

When me and Andy went to pick out our pumpkins at the local Piggly-Wiggly, there weren't too many left to choose from on account of everyone else not being procrastinators. Andy picked one right off the top that looked a little deformed (just sayin'). I was sifting through the three huge boxes when I found my pumpkin.

"That's the one," I pointed. Andy glanced wayyyyy down in the bottom of the box and looked back at me. "Are you sure that's the one you want?" "Duh!"

It only took him about twenty years of reorganizing pumpkins, standing on tippy toe, and reciting the Gettysburg Address to get that damn pumpkin out from the verrrrrrrry bottom of the barrel. When he finally put it in the cart, he was panting from having to exert so much energy just to get a fucking pumpkin out of a box.

"Hmmm.... I'm not sure I'm really feeling that pumpkin anymore."
"You're taking this goddamn pumpkin."

So here are the results! (Please don't pay attention to the fact that our porch doesn't have railings yet. We're working on it, OKAY? Stopjudgingme.)

My beautiful, amazing, perfect, adorable, lovable, gottawinthiscontest pumpkin:

I shall name him Fred.

And here is Andy's notasgoodasmine, reallyshouldntwin pumpkin:



You can vote in the top right hand corner, and you're allowed to pick more than one because I'm awesome like that.

PS - I plan on doing something on my list this weekend while I'm out for Halloween. Should I do the making a random friend in a bar thing or the reporter interviewing a drunk person thing or both at the same time?

PSS - HOLY SHIT, Y'ALL. You really should not ever, and I mean EVER drink Four Loko. That shit is crazy. I drank half of a can last night and was drunk as shit. Also, I threw up today. It was classy. Classy as shit.

Tuesday, October 26, 2010

Untitled Continued

*I promise I'll bring the funny back tomorrow. Today, this has to be said.

I woke up on Friday morning, and I was happy.

I didn't have to work, and I had tons of errands that I could mark off my to-do list. And by tons of errands, I mean errands that have been on my to-do list for like, um, well, over 2 years. Since I first moved out of my parents' house. Silly me.

So I made a list and left the house. My first stop was Walmart since I had pictures that needed to be developed. While I was at the picture making machine practically breaking my goddamn finger trying to use the "touch screen" bullshit that obviously does not recognize my finger as a human finger, a woman walked up behind me. She looked to be about my mother's age - late 40s. She had no makeup on, her hair was frazzled, and the bags under her eyes were evident.

"That thing is such a pain. It gave me trouble, too."
"Oh, thank God. I was starting to think my fingers were dead, and I just didn't know it," I responded with a laugh. After a minute of small talk, her pictures were finished developing, and she picked them up out of the machine.

"I've never used these machines before, but they helped a lot since I have to get these pictures to the attorney right away," she said as she flipped through the pictures. I glanced at her face and waited to see if she wanted to speak more on the subject, not wanting to pry. "You see, my son was just in a car accident. He nearly died, and we have to have before and after pictures." She held a photo up of her son, I assumed, in the before picture. His mouth was a huge, wide grin. The kind of mischevious grin that makes you want to know a person.

I smiled. "He looks sweet." She nodded and stared at the photo for a few seconds longer. She flipped to the next photo. Her son in a hospital bed, hooked up to monitors, with scrapes and bruises covering his face. Hardly the same boy I had just seen smiling as if he hadn't a care in the world. "I'm so sorry," I told her. "I can't imagine how difficult this must be for you."

She smiled with tears in her eyes. "I could have lost him. He's alive, and that's all that matters. The first night he was in the hospital, I sat next to him for hours, watching him sleep, watching his chest rise up and down. Just staring at him and thinking of how lucky I am. Lucky that he's alive. It reminded me of the days when I first brought him home from the hospital. That's all a mother can ask for, isn't it?"

I believe in signs. I believe that there is a higher power who sends signs down to Earth in order to prepare us for what's to come, to test our strength, our patience, our hearts. I should have seen this one. A warning -- be thankful for what you have. You can lose it in a moment.
Late Friday night, I sobbed on the couch while Andy held me.

"I listened to that woman talk about how thankful she is to have her son alive. I listened to her say that nothing is more important than your loved ones. And then I do this," I said, tears streaming down my cheeks. "How can I listen to someone saying these things and act like a raging psychotic bitch the very same day? What the hell is wrong with me?"

WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH ME?

I've asked this question so many times that I've lost count. I've asked others, I've thought it, I've written it, I've screamed it at the top of my lungs, hoping that someone, anyone will finally give me an answer.

"What do you want from me?" I've screamed at ... God? Buddha? Whatever higher power is watching me.

I'm not myself. I can see Crazy Psycho Bitch Sara freaking out. Throwing things, yelling, crying for no reason, collapsing on the floor in a heap because she's just given up. Because she can't escape this hellhole in her head. I tell her it isn't a big deal. It's just the fucking dishes, for Christ's sake. It's not worth a three-hour long fight. But she doesn't listen. Because she's a crazy, psycho bitch. She doesn't just push people away. She picks them up and throws them as far as she fucking can. She thows them again and again and again until they realize it isn't fucking worth it to keep coming back. Which is exactly what she was waiting for. Because now she can feel worthless and unloved which is exactly what she wants.

But I am not her.

I will not be her.

Occasionally, I might need to remind myself of this. I might need to put myself in "time-out" to clear my head and get the psycho bitch out. But I will be better than her. Because I have a hell of a lot to be happy about. And I do love myself, as much as she tries to convince me otherwise.

Friday, October 22, 2010

Untitled

You know what really sucks?

When you find out that your fiancee's student loan bills have been going to his mother's house and you never knew and all of a sudden you owe almost $1,000 immediately and not only that, but you have to keep up with monthly payments that keep on coming.

Or.

When you take your car in for an oil change and find out that it needs new tires for $400 as well as a brand new windshield for $300 which means that you now have five credit cards that you will never pay off because you're only paying interest every month.

Or.

When you're in your living room, looking at all the things that you worked really hard to have, thrown in trash bags because you're going to have to take them to pawn shops tomorrow in order to pay for those student loans and those tires and those credit cards.

All those books you read from cover to cover, the books you read when you're feeling down because you know they'll make you feel better, the books that were gifts, the books that weren't even very good, the books that made you forget about the shit going on in your own life because you were too in love with the characters you were reading about to remember that your life sucked. All in trash bags.

All those movies that you watched again and again, the first movie you watched with your boyfriend, the movie that makes you think of your mom, the movie that makes you cry every. fucking. time. even though you know how it's going to end, the disney classics that you collected one by one and said you would show your kids one day. All in trash bags.

The iPod that got you through the work day, the laptop on which you typed the most difficult thing you've ever written, the treadmill that helped you lose weight and be a more confident person.

So what do you do?

You type a blog post, telling yourself that writing it out will make you feel better even though you know damn well that you're lying.

And then you resist the urge a million times to smoke a goddamn cigarette because you just can't fucking take it anymore.

And then you get in a screaming match with your fiancee because you have to blame someone, you have to blame anyone but yourself, and you tell him to leave because you know that you're going to say something you regret if he stays and you can't bare to think of the look on his face when you say the one thing that you know will hurt him the most because you're a mean, selfish bitch of a person and you don't understand why anyone would want to put up with this.

Wednesday, October 20, 2010

BOOBS.

Guess where I am today?

I'm over here at Dan's blog again.

Talking about my boobs! With pictures!

HOW CAN YOU SAY NO TO BOOBS?!

Monday, October 18, 2010

Armadillo Dave

Andy was heading to the store last night when he came back inside to tell me there was an armadillo in our yard. He got a flashlight to go investigate and chase the little guy off. Now I have had several interactions with armadillos in my life, and they were never very happy moments for me.

The first was when I was 16 and driving home from work. It was a summer night so it was probably about 1 in the morning. No cars were on the interstate that late, and I was probably in a rush to get home since my mom watched the clock like a motherfucking ninja.

I was going about 80 miles an hour when I saw an armadillo up ahead in the middle of my lane. I had no time to switch lanes or try in any way to save this poor little armadillo's life. What I did have time for? Seconds before my car connected, he turned his head and looked DIRECTLY AT ME with these sad, horrified eyes like he was saying, "But I have a family and children at home..... WHY????!!!!!" I tried to move my car so he could go right in between my tires. Unfortunately, I didn't know at the time that when armadillos are scared, they curl up in a ball and jump which makes them hit the car which makes them fucking DEAD.

The impact was pretty intense for JUST hitting an armadillo, and I was freaked! I had never killed an animal with my car before! I called my boyfriend at the time and told him about the Daddy armadillo that I had killed. He was in that direction with a friend so they decided to drive past and see if they could spot the damage. While he was driving there, we continued discussing Dave (what I named the armadillo).

Boyfriend at the time: So you just murdered an innocent armadillo?
Me: There was nothing I could do! It was my life or Dave's!
BATT: His entire family was probably sitting on the side of the interstate. They probably cried over his dead body after you murdered him with your car.
Me: WHAT THE FUCK? WHY WOULD YOU SAY THESE THINGS??!

It was about that time that BATT drove by the damage.

BATT: HOLY FUCKING SHIT, SARA! It looks like a goddamn CRIME SCENE out here. Blood is covering the road! Did you take a fucking machete to this armadillo?

I thought he had to be kidding. There was no way a car could do that much damage to a freaking armadillo. I had never even SEEN a live armadillo before. They were usually on the side of the road - no blood, no guts. Why would I just happen to be the one to create a spectacle of an armadillo murder? So I got off the interstate and looped around because I had to see this for myself. I was still on the phone with BATT when I drove by.

Me: HOLY FUCKING SHIT! How did I do that?! Should I do something?
BATT: What the.... ? Like what? Say a prayer? Tell his family members?
Me: I just feel really bad! Shit... I guess what's done is done, huh?
BATT: You got over that rather quickly.

Apparently I don't have a great track record with armadillos because this is not the only story I have concerning me murdering them. So when Andy said there was an armadillo in the front yard, I was excited to make amends with the creature and maybe realize armadillos and Sara Swears a Lots can be friends. I grabbed the video camera and ran outside to examine him. I recorded him with the night vision which made it look much creepier than I expected which freaked me out and made me change my mind about wanting to be friends.

AND THEN he ran under our stupid trailer.

Which is when I told Andy he couldn't go to the store because THERE IS A FUCKING ARMADILLO UNDERNEATH OUR HOUSE AND WHAT IF IT DRILLS A HOLE THROUGH THE FLOOR AND POPS UP AND EATS ME, ANDY?! Christ.....

So he decided to get out the bebe gun that we bought to scare stupid critters away from our house (Ahhh, Louisiana) and went out to give Dave the Second a little scare and send him on his way. So I took the video camera. And when he shot Dave the Second, the armadillo jumped way up in the air and I couldn't see where he went. But then suddenly I heard a huge thud hitting the porch which is when I knew Dave the Second was under the porch, and I freaked out because ANDY, WHAT IF HE RUNS UP THE STAIRS AND ONTO THE PORCH AND EATS MEEEEEEE?! and I ran inside. And I got some of it on video. I asked Andy to cut the last bit because it makes me sound like a lunatic, but can I please just say that I get scared REALLY easily and creatures that look even the slightest bit creepy make me super uncomfortable. I have no clue what I thought that armadillo was going to do to me, but apparently it was bad. Sigh.


video

But hey, armadillos can be cute, too.




Friday, October 15, 2010

Eight Questions!

Okay, so Heather passed this fun little meme along, and I don't always do memes, but this one looked like a good time so here ya go!

1. If you could give your readers one piece of advice, what would it be?

"Be nice to your vagina."

(I really like linking y'all to stuff that includes the word 'vagina' because I know you're scared to clickity click it. Muahaha!)

2. Name the three things that you love the most about your life.

I love my fiancee. Whether we elope, have an insanely huge wedding, or pull a Kurt & Goldie - I'll be happy as long as we do it together.


We're a *teensy* bit happier than this picture lets on. 

I love my stupid, silly dogs. Even when they shit all over the house. And run away, thinking we're playing a game. And put their disguting, dirty paws all over my nice work clothes. Wait a second, why do I love them again?




I love that I'm quitting smoking. Okay, so, not really. Actually, it super sucks. But I have already gone one full day with ZERO cigarettes so I figured I would announce it to the bloggity world to keep myself in check. Sigh. Goodbye smoke breaks...



3. If you could switch places with any one of your friends or family members for one day, who would you choose and why?

I would choose my best friend so I could be hit on by 16 year olds ALL. DAY. LONG. I guess that's what happens when you look like you're fifteen. (Sorry, Katelynn!)

4. What is one trend that you wish didn’t exist or that had never caught on?

Leggings as pants. Oh, dear God. Leggings as pants is perfectly acceptable if you are a skinny person. But since it is pretty obvious that people in this country cannot tell if they are skinny or not (if you have to think about it - YOU'RE NOT), this trend just needs to die. HARD. I am so tired of seeing huge, fat, cottage cheese asses hanging out from under tshirts that barely make it past your stomach.

Also? Can old women PLEASE stop trying to dress like they're 18? Fuck.

5. Name three inventions you consider to be ingenious.

Vibrators
Condoms
Tampons

Apparently I'm going with a theme through this meme.


6. At your funeral, you want people to remember you as…

"Wasn't she that weird girl who talked about her vagina on the internet?"

 
7. If you could be famous, what would you like to be famous for and what celebrities would be in your posse?

I would probably be famous for showing my vagina on the internet. (What? I talk about it all the time. Do you really think it's not going to end up ON MY BLOG at some point, y'all?)

My posse would obviously include Katy Perry, Ke$ha, Miley Cyrus, and Lindsay Blowhan. Because those bitches know how PARTY.

8. If you were going to host a blogger house party which bloggers would you invite and what would go down?

Aly, Taylor, Courtney, LorraineNicoleRisha, Nugs, Mandy Moore

A 20sb party! A very sexciting girl party with pillow fights and making out...

And apparently I'm supposed to ask 8 question to 8 bloggers. Good thing I just happened to pick 8 people to come to my blogger party!

1. In the event of a zombie apocolypse, do you want me to kill you or let you eat me?
2. If you could have a penis/vagina (whichever you don't have) for one whole day, what would you do?
3. Have you ever had sex on a washer? (I'm very curious about this idea.)
4. What's your favorite color? Or colour, in Risha's case?
5. If we made a lovechild, what would you name it?
6. If you found out you were going to die tomorrow, would you have lots and lots of sex today?
7. If you had to choose between a million dollars and no more orgasms for the rest of your life, what would you choose?
8. If you were going to host a blogger house party which bloggers would you invite and what would go down? (I liked this one...)

And I am posting a guest post from Nugs that was originally on another's blogger's site because this shit made me laugh:

Hey Guys,

Nugs here from over at ThatAintKosher. Sara Nips requested that I take over for her today, and that's awesome because I'm in love with her blog. In fact, if it were possible to make sweet monkey love to a website, That Ain't Kosher would be pregnant with little Sara Swears A Lots by now. I should warn all of you that I generally read Sara's posts without any pants on, which means that I'm waist-nakey right now. Try to contain yourselves from jacking it too loudly.

This was my original Bloggerstock post for September, but I had to censor it because it may have been too Kosher-ific for the site it was assigned to. However, Sara has zero shame and agreed to post the Nugsified version.

This month's topic was “Do-Over”- if your life had a rewind button, what event would you choose to alter so that the outcome played out differently? Despite the fact that this actually forced me to engage in some deep thought, I liked this topic because it allowed me to get the creative juices flowing.

Speaking of “flowing juices,” I know exactly which moment in my life I would pick- the relinquishment of the V-Card. No amount of time spent reading Judy Blume or watching bloody horror movies could have prepared me for that uneventful misfortune. Fuck you, pop culture. I call bullshit on you.

Due to the fact that both of us combined had all the sexual experience of a fucking hacky sack, it lasted about twelve seconds. I remember that it kind of felt like I was being attacked from the inside by an open-mouthed water moccasin.

 
Also, I had given into the cliché of “sex on the beach,” so there was sand in pretty much every orifice of my body, not to mention under my fingernails and between my toes.

I had gone out with a group that night, so all my friends were about a hundred feet away, which left no room for any romantic encounters afterward. It was pretty much, “oh, was that it? OK, OW,” and then we walked limped back to the flock. Keep in mind that we were both in high school, so I wasn’t really expecting much of anything, but at least some fucking reassurance would have been nice.

How would I have adjusted this experience to my liking?

First of all, I would have substituted my less-than-stellar partner with Sawyer from Lost. He’s used to island sex so I figure sand wouldn’t be an issue for him.

 
Also, I probably would have shaken the rocks and seaweed out of my hair before heading back to my girlfriend's because that definitely would have made it less obvious. I'm a fucking moron so this didn't occur to me at the time.

Maybe I would have put a couple of pillows under my ass as well. Of course it’s not like I planned this whole thing, so I actually couldn’t have done this stuff.

Anyway, that’s my “do-over” moment. Thanks to Sara and her blow-up dolls for letting me spray my colorful language all over her blog.

Tuesday, October 12, 2010

Guess Who?

Guess what?!

We have two new friends that know about this little blog! Whether they will read often or not, I don't know. But if so....

Hi Sister-In-Law!

Hi Best Friend!

I've written about my best friend briefly before because she is the reason for the name of my blog. (She's supah smart, y'all.) We are the type of best friends that are busy all the fucking time with work and school and significant others and being mommies to dogs so we rarely see each other, but when we do? All hell breaks loose.

When Andy and I first started dating and I would invite Katelynn (best friend) over, he would get all uncomfortable because he had no clue what we were talking about 99% of the time. Luckily, he learned our language and can now participate in the crazy.

One of our favorite things to do when she comes over is play the game Guess Who?

We sometimes forget that we don't play Guess Who the same as normal sane uncool people.

The first time we started playing Guess Who together was on a weekend trip to Baton Rouge a few years ago. We were staying at her brother's apartment and not even close to sober. He had a box full of old ass games like Sorry, Trivial Pursuit, and Don't Wake Daddy all in the original boxes. Also? He didn't own a TV. Apparently it's a hippie thing? No television + box full of boring games = CREATIVITY! (That sounds like it should be on an episode of Blue's Clues.)

We dug around in the "game box" until we came to Guess Who. Neither of us had played it in years, and I remember finding it very entertaining as a kid.

The game started out innocently enough with the typical, "Does your person have blonde hair?" or, "Is your person wearing a hat?" questions. We went through a few games this way, realizing how ridiculously fucking easy boring simple plain it was and that we are obviously way better than that so the game took a turn.

Me:  Does your person have blue eyes?

K:  Does your person have a vagina? (Way better than asking if their person is a girl.)

Me:  Is your person cheating on his/her significant other?

K:  Does your person have a sexually transmitted disease?

Me:  Is your person standing outside a little boy's window, jacking it?

K:  Is your person Rodney Dangerfield? (I swear, there is one character who had to have been modeled after our dear friend, Rodney. They look exactly alike.)

Me:  Does your person have a master's degree?
K:  Hmm... *examines card* No, no, I don't think so.
Me:  Seriously?
K:  Well, probably not. He probably got a bachelors degree, though.
Me:  Everybody gets their masters these days! Is he seriously that lazy?
K:  I'M JUST TELLING YOU THE FACTS, SARA.

We played that damn game for HOURS. And by HOURS, I mean like three entire fucking hours in a row. Her brother was having friends over in his backyard so every five minutes or so, someone new would walk through the house to get to the backyard and stop to observe the weirdness going on in the Guess Who marathon of the decade century.

After we had been playing for two hours or so, a group of people had formed around us and others were giving us suggestions on questions to ask.

"Ask her if her person has ever given Bernard (the guy in the game with the gray hat) a blow job."

"Ask her if her person is a Mac or a PC."

And the proof that we truly are the bestest best friends ever to exist?

WE GOT THE ANSWER RIGHT ALMOST EVERY TIME.

ASKING QUESTIONS LIKE THE ABOVE.

I dare you to find two best friends who are as connected as me and Katelynn, especially considering we only see each other every two months or so.

Luckily, she came over last weekend to hang out for Andy's birthday, and we had a blasty blast. Look how teeny tiny she looks. When we were in high school, it was impossible to get a good picture of the two of us. My huge head made her head look like a turtle and vice versa.



After drinking enough strawberry dickeries to make our tummies feel throw-uppy, Katelynn taught us "the secret masturbator" which involves her standing behind random objects, staring at me, and jerking her imaginary erection. Secret masturbator behind the kitchen curtain, behind a closet door, in the fridge, behind Andy. So many options, not enough alcohol time.

Remind me to tell you about Andy yelling, "DO YOU WANNA SUCK DICK?!" in front of everyone while we were playing a card game.


UPDATE:

So I thought everyone knew what the game Don't Wake Daddy was, but apparently there are some Don't Wake Daddy virgins in our midst. Harley says,

Okay I feel guilty because the first (and let's face it, only) image the game Don't Wake Daddy conjured in my head was of some kind of sick kiddy-fiddling scenario. Or maybe a sinister kidnapping.


Then I realised Don't Wake Daddy must be a family board game if it's in the company of gems like Guess Who and Trivial Pursuit, and then I wondered why incest would be the theme of a family board game.

Basically, I think you should explain this, because I have never heard of that game and frankly, it's the only thing I could focus on.
After I finished laughing, I looked for the commercial for Don't Wake Daddy.



Apparently Daddy doesn't allow eating after a certain time. Also apparently, Daddy sleeps in the living room. I don't really know what the fuck was going on there. What I do know, however, is that that game was like a little kid panic attack waiting to happen. Every fucking time I pushed that goddamn button, I just knew Daddy was going to jump up and scare the shit out of me. Every time we played that game, I would have a twitch for a week afterwards.

UPDATE 2:

Harley added this, and it was too good to leave off.

Okay I wiki-ed it and I see now that Don't Wake Daddy is actually a game about children who, for some reason that hasn't been explained, are forbidden from getting anything out of the kitchen at night (maybe they're chubby? maybe they're poor and have to be thrifty with every single bean? maybe they're allergic to food?). Daddy, meanwhile, is obviously a health nut who padlocks the fridge and sleeps with one eye open in case any of his sneaky spawn try to eat anything after midnight (he's obviously watched Gremlins one too many times).


That whole story sounds remarkably implausible. I think they should have gone with the kidnapping (not the incest/paedophilia, because I realise themes like that can be hard to explain to small children).

Tuesday, October 5, 2010

Punkinhead

Halloween is right around the corner, and it is one of my absolute favorite holidays EVAH! October is the only time of year that I'll watch scary movies, go to haunted houses, and not punch Andy in the dick when he jumps out from behind a door to scare me.

The plan this year is to make badassery jack off lanterns. (That's not what the "o" stands for? What?) And what exactly is the point of creating something as ah-maz-ing as my pumpkin will obviously be if no one is there to judge and declare my pumpkin WINNER OF ALL JACK OFF LANTERNS IN ALL THE WORLD, MUAHAHAHA!

Which is why I explained to Andy that after we make our jack off lanterns, I would obviously request that THE INTERNET do the judging and by THE INTERNET, I obviously mean youse guys and obviously I know what y'all like (brownchickenbrowncow) so I gots this competition in the bag, SON!

Andy: Well I'm just going to destroy your pumpkin.
Me: I wouldn't make threats like that if I were you...
Andy: What's that supposed to mean?
Me: I'm just saying that it would be really horrible if something were to happen to your pumpkin when you weren't home, that's all.
Andy: What the fuck are you going to do to my pumpkin?

Somebody is a teensy bit paranoid, no? (MAYBE SOMEBODY SHOULDN'T MAKE THREATS AT MY PUMPKIN, HM?)

Andy went on to mention something about hiring a SWAT team of pumpkins to guard his jack off lantern, but whatevs, dude. The "SWAT team" leaves for work before I do, ifyaknowwhatimean. (That one wasn't sexual, y'all.) I'm just really hoping that Andy's pumpkin doesn't happen to maybe possibly may fall off the porch one day and crack into a million little pieces.

Also, did I forget to mention that he threatened to THROW A MOTHERFUCKING PUMPKIN AT MY FACE?! What the fucking fuck, Andy? You're the one who has to stare at this face for the rest of your life so you should probably take better care of it!

And speaking of my face, I believe this is supposed to be no makeup week judging by a few blog posts I've seen recently so I decided to be an awesome bloggity friend and post a picture of me bare-faced and OOGLY. Here ya go!

But actually I think this week is supposed to be about loving ourselves without all the cover up and shit so LET'S ALL LOVE OUR NAKED FACES, Y'ALL. We're all way hawter than we give ourselves credit for. Trust me, I've stalked y'alls facebooks and blogs, and I'd do all of you. Well, almost all of you. Maybe not the married ones. That doesn't seem very neighborly. But you're still hawt. (Are you tired of me spelling it that way yet?)

Also, I'm making a separate tab for THE LIST so if you have any suggestions for it, send me an email at tatorhead328 at yahoo dot com because I'm always open. Ahem. For suggestions, I mean. And maybe a little more. But mostly for the suggestions.

I've got tons of blog ideas coming, swearsies! Also, I got the random button up so clickity click it every once in a while to see what new and exciting land it takes you to. Hopefully wherever you go, there will be pizza and ice cream involved.

PS - Y'all were very concerned about my condom purchase at the Dollar General. But don't be silly! The box says that these condoms work 65% of the time ALL THE TIME. And I think that's some damn good odds.

Saturday, October 2, 2010

Testing! Testing! Do Not Be Alarmed!

I'm doing HTML type things that people with anger issues like me really shouldn't attempt to do. If this is my last post, it probably means that I stabbed myself in the heart because I couldn't get it to work properly. Say nice things at my funeral.

At the moment, the picture of me to the right is HUUUUUUGE, and I didn't realize quite how disapproving my eyes looked so that when you're jacking it to my posts, you can see my judgmental eyes watching you. Andy said I should make the picture scroll down WITH you just to creep y'all the fuck out.

::EDIT:: Yay screenshots!



So no worries! Creepy "LOOK AT ME, LOOK AT ME, OVER HERE PLEASE! EVERYONE COME AND SEE HOW GOOD I LOOK!" Sara will be gone shortly.

If you have a life and weren't here Friday night to experience the creepy overload, sucks to be you.

P. S. Chicka chicka owwwwww

Friday, October 1, 2010

Happy Friday, Lovahs!


Hope y'all have lovely weekends! And if you can handle it, I highly recommend making an intoxivlog. We could start a trend! #drunkintoxivlognation

P. S. I just have to let all of you who don't use Twitter know that my town is SO small, they shut down half of it for the homecoming parade every year. And it's the cutest thing ever, and I got stuck in the traffic for it yesterday so I ended up just getting out of my car and sitting on the hood to watch it and ohmygod, my ovaries were crying just thinking about bringing one of my future beh behs to watch the parade and telling them that I used to be in it every year and oh my gah STOP IT, BABY FEVER.

I made up for it by going to the local Dollar Store (yay! We have one now!) and purchasing many, many condoms. You're welcome, ovaries!

Be safe this weekend and don't get preggos! Unless you want to, then I give you permission to let the spermies fly! (ew?)

Thursday, September 30, 2010

Bloggerstock: Theme of the Month Here*

UPDATE:  I added a poll regarding an ah-maz-ing idea I have for linking to other blogs that I want to have sexy time with. I'd like to pass on the love. : ) Plus you can vote twice so take your picks.

It's Bloggerstock day! And you can find me over hiz-ere. (It begins with, "I decided to go all out, balls out and tell a story that I said I would never tell on my blog. But I think now it's fair game since this isn't my blog, right? Right." If that doesn't encourage you to check it out, I don't know what will.) (I know how lazy you bitches are.) (Just kidding, I love you.)

I think that all I really need to introduce Stargazer is a little quote from her "100 Things About Me" post:

I know who I am, and I know I love women, inside and out.
Rawr! I don't know if she meant it to be dirty, but mommy like. (That sounded so fucking creepy pedophile-ish, but it made me laugh like whoa so it stays.)

Without further ado, here is a guest post on Do-Overs from Stargazer. Go visit her blog and say dirty things.

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Ok so, HI!!  I'm Stargazer! Let me get ya up to speed on what Bloggerstock is and why I'm takin up space on Sara's lovely blog. I (like so many others) found out about Bloggerstock through 20sb.net. Basically it's blog-swapping but on a ginormous scale. Visit my site HERE to see what the awesome Jessica had to say on the topic of the month:  DO-OVERS.


Hmmm ok... so if I could go back... what would I do over?  What are my regrets?  What would I change about my past?  This is a tough question for me, because although we do all have regrets, even if they're small ones, I am one of those optimists that truly believes that everything happens for a reason.  When I look back on things that could have maybe gone more smoothly, or completely different all together, I then just have to think about all I learned about who I am and what I want out of life from those less-than-great situations or decisions. 

But, then again... haha!  Maybe still.. I could have maybe not gone back and forth between dating two different girls over the span of a year and a half.  By the end of that time, I felt like I didn't even recognize myself.  But, as I said before, I learned so much about myself and what I want from a relationship because of those two tumultuous relationships.  Let me make this clear from the start, neither one ever overlapped the other, I have never cheated on anyone, and never will, but my heart was definitely always with the first one, and I realized later that I was only going back to the second one after the countless break ups with Ex No. 1, in an attempt to distract myself from the heartache of not being able to make it work with her.  I was also trying to piece together the good things from both of the girls into one person.  I know that doesn't actually make sense, but both of the girls had things that I wanted from a partner (well Ex No. 2 ended up not having anything I wanted, she was quite the nasty ho FOR REALLL, but she put on a good show for a long time) so I thought that the perks of each could make up for what they didn't have.  Lol... I swear this makes sense in my mind, but I can't seem to explain it by typing it out, for those of you who are shaking your heads in bewilderment.  But anyway, from this whole experience, I learned that I am not the kind of person who can distract myself with someone else if I'm still feeling any kind of heartache for someone else.  It just flat out doesn't work for me.  I don't carry baggage very well, so I now know that I need to fully be over any heartaches before starting something new with a new person.  I am very happy to say that I am fully over that Ex No. 1 (only really took about 2 years!) and she and I are now friends.  Distant friends, but friends none the less.  But yeah, that whole experience is one of those that I look back on and just shake my head, thinking... WHAT WERE YOU THINKING???  But that's ok.  I'm ok with looking back on mistakes like that, and knowing that I know myself better for it. 

Another regret?  I think I'll always regret not sticking with ballet.  I did 8 years of ballet when I was young, and I was really great at it.  I was the youngest in all of my classes by at least 3 years, and always had a lead role in our academy's ballet performances.  When my parents split, we moved across town and I wasnt able to stay in the same academy because my mom said it would be too much to do that much driving back and forth.  I had the option of choosing a different ballet school closer to home, and I tried a couple, but the teachers were so shitty that I ended up quitting all together out of frustration.  Whenever I watch a movie about dancing or see a ballet now, it really gets to me knowing that that could have been me... it was something that I felt so passionate about, but I let it go way too soon.  So yeah, maybe I would have stuck with that if I could have one do-over.  :)
 
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*The title of this post was a really lame joke referencing this page. That crazy Sara! Thinking she's funny and shit!

Wednesday, September 29, 2010

Um, hi?

So I took a Valium yesterday and calmed down and was like..... Wow, this is going to be really embarrassing because I'm obviously going to miss those crazies more than I realize and when this whole thing blows over, it's going to be totes awkward especially when I say that the situation is something I'd rather not blog about because everyone knows that just makes you want to know more so now I seem like I'm being vague on purpose but I'm totally not, ok? Ok.

Concerning yesterday? My relationship will always take precedence over almost everything else. (Besides Starbucks fraps, that is. Because Starbucks fraps are like a gift from Baby Jesus in a tuxedo shirt. Because he's formal.... but he likes to party. Duh.) So basically I'm an idiot sometimes because I'm a woman and my brain is smaller so it's not my fault. (Scientifically proven, y'all.)*

Besides the whole relationship thing, there's just SO MUCH going on in my life right now what with school, work, purchasing a new camera, getting bangs, participating in the sexy time with a fiancee who doesn't hate me even when I'm crazy and don't take antidepressants and flip out with rage like the motherfucking hulk or something.

I mean, seriously, y'all. It's like one second we're sitting on the couch having a discussion, and the next I look like I'm fucking 'roid raging or something because I'm making a noise like RAAAWWRRRRAFOIAJUFOIWE and ripping my shirt off which seems like it would be sexy except that I have green skin under said shirt and also pecs rather than breasts so joke's on you, playa!

Andy might THINK he has it bad when situations like this arise, but he didn't see me in high school. Barely a week could go through my house without hearing me yelling, "I hate you!" or "You're ruining my life!" or "You don't want me to be happy!"

Yes. I WAS that teenage girl, and this is the exact reason that Andy often says, "Dear Baby Jesus, PLEASE don't let us have a girl" even though we aren't even trying to have a baby because I make way too many jokes about girls getting pregnant out of wedlock.

Speaking of wedlock, I have made a bad joke about having babies out of wedlock twice now.... and BOTH motherfucking times, a coworker has said, "Um, Sara? I have a baby out of wedlock."

Heh, heh... Uh, duh. I knew that. That's why I made the joke, silly. Kind of like when you're talking shit about someone walking behind you, and they say something, and you have to turn around and play it cool and be all, "HA HA HA. Girl, you so crazy. I knew you were walking behind me OBVIOUSLY. Heh. Love ya?"

Anyways, that was all to say.... Hi. I'm going to be a good bloggy friend, a good fiancee, a good student, a good doggy mommy, a good exerciser, and a good worker.

LOL, JK about the good exerciser part. Y'all didn't think I was serious about that, right?

*I almost got kicked off of 20sb for making that comment. I was told that I'm sexist against women.

Well, duh.

Why did we give them the right to vote again?

Tuesday, September 28, 2010

Gone

Until further notice.

And yeah, I am crying.

Because I fucking love this little world on the internet.

And this fucking sucks.

Wednesday, September 22, 2010

That's What He Said*

Andy loves me sososososo much that he agreed to let me interview him for this little old blog. Because he's giving and charitable and handsome and hey sweetie, would you mind giving Penny and Duke baths when you get home tonight? Kisses!

I actually recorded this conversation because I wanted it to be 100% accurate. You are so, so welcome. (Those two so moments were for you, Bret. I'll use so however I damn well please!) Anyfuckingwho, enjoy! Note the comments in blue were added by me after the interview was over. Also, I kept it very professional, as I'm sure you'll notice. Supah similar to a job interview, I'm pretty sure.

(Psst! I think that some of youse guys should encourage him to leave a comment for once since this whole damn post is about him.)

Me:  What was your favorite subject in school?
Andy: Which school? High school? College?
Me: I was trying to start off with an easy question....
Andy:  Science, I guess. Biology.

Notice he's already making this difficult.

Me:  What is your favorite reality show?
Andy:  If I had to pick one, I guess the dancing show.
Me:  So You Think You Can Dance is your favorite reality show? *snort*
Andy:  I said if I had to pick one!

He's trying to play it off and pretend he doesn't luuuuurve that show. Trust me... he totes does. To the point where he's all, (say this in the gay man South Park voice) "Hm, I dunno. It didn't really look like there was any chemistry between them. Plus those lifts were just horrible."

Me:  Are you sure it isn't *actually* Jersey Shore?
Andy:  I'm pretty positive it's not.

I'm pretty positive he's a LIAR.

Me:  Do you like the fact that I already had that last question written down because I knew you were going to lie and not admit that Jersey Shore is your favorite show?
Andy:  Jersey Shore is not my favorite show, ok?

Cleopatra, Queen of Denial, y'all.

Me:  Moving on, which of your dogs do you love the least?
Andy:  The least?? What the... That's fucked up, Sara.
Me:  Like if you could only save two of our three precious babies, and they were all looking at you with those big, sad eyes... who would you leave behind to die an untimely death?
Andy:  (With no pause at all...) It would have to be Penny Lane.
Me:  What the fuck, Andy? You're such an asshole!
Andy:  Listen, she's the lowest on the totem pole.

The correct answer to that question? I would sacrifice my own life before I let any of our adorable children die.

Me:  Are you excited about getting married? *evil glare*
Andy:  Yes.

I'm pretty sure he's more excited about having his ring than the whole being married to me part. He won't stop bitching about the fact that men don't get to wear engagement rings and that's not fair and booo hooooooo.

Me:  Is it going to annoy you if Sara refers to herself as Sara through this whole interview?
Andy:  Kind of, yes.
Me:  I'm going to do it anyway.
Andy:  Sigh.
Me:  HA! I already had that response written down, too, because I FUCKING KNEW you were going to say that! So predictable.
Andy:  (Sighing and shaking his head back and forth probably because he's embarrassed about how predictable he is.)

Me:  Anyways... so does Sara really swear that much?
Andy:  Andy doesn't think that Sara swears that much.
Me: Are you going to do this for the rest of the interview?
Andy:  Yeah, I am.
Me:  Unless you mess up like you did right then? That's cool. You're just gonna completely forget what you were going for. I like that.

It's just too easy.

Me:  How often do you read/stalk Sara's blog?
Andy:  Not too often.
Me:  Really?
Andy:  Yeah, really.
Me:  :face that doesn't quite believe what she's hearing:
Andy: Seriously.
Me:  You dont stalk it?
Andy:  I don't have... Ahem! Andy doesn't have time to stalk Sara's blog while Andy is at work. Andy has a lot of stuff to do while he's at work, unlike Sara.

Isn't it cute how he tries, though?

Me:  Do you think it's funny?
Andy:  Yeah, it's funny.

Me:  Have you ever ROFL at something on Sara's blog?
Andy:  (Pause) Is that...Is that roll on the floor laughing? Uh, I can't say that I've rolled on the floor laughing, no.

Completely unbelievable. I know for a fact that every single one of you rolls on the floor laughing every time you read a new post. #letmekeepdreamingplease (Also, can someone explain to me why I think hashtags are so fucking hilarious?)

Me:  Did you really bet Sara a seafood dinner that she couldn't get 100 followers? cough STUPID cough.
Andy:  Well, yeah.

Me:  Do you regret being a dickhole and not believing in her amazingness?
Dickhole:  I was not being a dickhole.

...says the dickhole.

Me:  Does Sara accurately portray you on her blog?
Andy:  No.
Me:  That's it? If you're gonna say no, you better have a reason.
Andy:  I'm much cooler than the Andy on the blog. I'm much cooler than that.
Me:  Snort.
Andy:  Yes I am!

Me:  If you had a band, what would your band name be?
Andy:  Infected Pimple.
Me:  That's gonna sell a lot of records.

Me:  Do you think "Prettier than Penises" is the best band name ever?
Andy:  No.
Me:  But it's got the alliteration, the "P" noise...
Andy:  No.
Me: ...and the penis part of it will draw people to it. And Prettier than Penises has a girly bit to it...
Andy:  No.
Me: ...but also it could be a guy band so you don't really know so you've gotta check it out.
Andy:  The only people it would draw to it would be little preteen girls who would hear the word penis and be like AHHHH!
Me:  But also little preteen boys would too just because they'd want to say the word penis so they'd be a fan of the band just so they could say penis.
Andy:  But then his friends would be like, "Man you're fucking gay because you listen to the penis band. You got the penis band CD."
Me:  Hm, you might have a legitimate argument there...... for once.

*Insert tangent about better band names that involve the words penis and vagina*



Me:  What is your best advice concerning vaginas?
Me:  This was asked by someone else, FYI. I don't need advice about vaginas. Just sayin'.
Andy:  Be nice to them?
Me:  If you could give one piece of advice to the world concerning vaginas, that's what it is? That's it?
Andy:  Well, I mean....
Me:  Yeah, you're WAY cooler than Andy on the blog.
Andy starts getting exasperated at this point.
Andy:  Advice for what? For getting with vaginas? For taking care of vaginas?
Me:  You could be creative with it instead of just "be nice to it". I have to post this shit for people to read. ENTERTAIN THE MASSES, ANDY.
Andy:  Ok, fine, keep your vagina clean.
Me:  What the fuck? Don't you think the men need to know a little more about vaginas than the women do? I think we've got the whole vagina thing under control, thanks.

Pretty sure Andy gave up arguing with me by this point.

Me:  What do you think about large clits AKA small penis-looking things?
Andy:  I mean, it's part of a vagina so it's all good.
Me:  But if it's so big it looks like a little penis?
Andy:  Well if it's as big as my fucking thumb, then...
Me:  That's disturbing.
Andy:  Like a little penis sticking out... that'd be a problem.
Me:  You could fuck each other.
Andy:  I'm pretty sure if you've already gotten to that stage of the game and you're already looking at it up close, it's not gonna fucking matter. It's a vagina.
Me:  No way! You really think your dick wouldn't just WOMP WOMP WOMP when you saw a penis looking thing coming from the crotchal region of a girl?
Andy:  I don't know. I think we have two different images in our heads.
Me:  I think we may need to relearn the parts of my private areas better.

ifyaknowhatimean

Me:  Where is the weirdest place you've gotten a boner?
Andy:  Anywhere? Uh, the DMV?

Riiiiiight.

Me:  What would you say if Sara asked you for a golden shower?
Andy:  I would ask what her fucking problem is. Weirdo.
Me:  What if that was just something I liked?
Andy:  I know it's not something you like.
Me:  What if I did? We're gonna be married. We have to work through things like this.
Andy:  Well then you would need to explain to me why you wanted me to pee on you.

Insert Andy singing, "I want to piss on you! Yes, I do... I'll piss on you, I'll piss on you."

Me:  Who is on your "cheat list"?
Andy:  I don't have a cheat list.
Me: FUCK! My friend and I were talking about the questions I should ask, and she said I should ask the cheat list question and be all, "No, no. Answer it! I'm not going to be mad, silly" except when you answer it be like, "WHAT THE FUCK YOU WANT TO HAVE SEX WITH OTHER PEOPLE, YOU ARE SUCH AN ASSHOLE!"
Andy:  Well I knew it was a loaded question so there.

Fucking RUINED.

*Title courtesy of my lovah, Lorraine.


PS. These two videos made MY ENTIRE EFFING LIFE when I saw them.

Courtesy of my best bloggy friend who also happened to get me the BEST motherfucking presents ever and when I opened it, I fell a little more in love with her and I'm pretty surprised I didn't have a heart attack from how happy I was. (I'll post pictures soon!) Wow, that last thing was absolutely not a sentence, but that's how my head sounds right now after two Starbucks drinks and half an adipex so let's just roll with it! Anycrazybitchwho, here's the video she blessed me with. And now that I've spent twenty thousand years introducing the video, here it is:


*I have no clue why it's cutting part of the video off. Sorry folks!

And then there is the video that should probably be the mascot for Sara Swears A Lot, if it was possible for a video to be a mascot. It would probably be one of those mascots that thinks it's really cool except actually it smells really bad in that outfit and the person inside is sweating like a beast and when he tries to pump the crowd up at a pep ralley, he thinks that everyone is cheering for him except really they're all booing but the mascot head is so bulky, he can't tell the difference and then he gets stuffed in a trash can after the game and THAT REALLY WASN'T NICE, YOU GUYS, I SMELLED LIKE MYSTERY THURSDAY FOR A WEEK AFTER THAT.

Wait.... what?

Anystopjudgingmeway, this video was presented to me by the lovely Ella who has officially made my life. Enjoy!



PSS. I pimped out blogs like a motherfucker today, yo. So clickity click those links because they're all enjoyable.