Tuesday, August 17, 2010

I Shit You Not

I have sosososo much stuff to put on this blog that I haven't gotten around to because I've been busy with work and getting ready for school and okay, fine, I'm on my fucking period, and I don't really feel like being charming, okay? Good enough? Good.

But yeah. I have some sexciting shit to post like a PSA about a stupid hotel in Vegas and a video of me humping my blow-up sex dolls I got in the mail last week. Also, I'm thinking of putting the plastic dildo that came with it under Andy's pillow tonight because that's some kind of awesome, right?

I've been pretty swamped at work lately which means at 5:00 I'm ready to go by sprinting out the motherfucking door of this office, leaping in my car, and roaring out of the parking lot like I'm driving the fucking Batmobile. Which is exactly what I was doing last week because everyone knows Mondays Tuesdays Wednesdays every work day suck balls.

I pulled into my driveway twenty minutes later and immediately felt calmer. Just being home makes my stress levels go way down because I know that I can spend the next seven hours sitting my fat ass on the couch watching reruns of It's Always Sunny and South Park.

So after checking the mail, I made my way to my front door. I was reading an awesome fucking postcard and laughing while I put my key in the lock and pushed the door open.


The smell of shit hit me in the face so hard that I gagged on the air. And then I immediately turned back around and closed the door. Because obviously I was going to wait until Andy got home, pretend that I had just pulled up, and somehow force him to go in the house before me. Because the rule in my house is whoever finds the shit cleans the shit up. (Yeah, this has also caused us to have wars in which we both just step over the poop for a few hours until Andy someone says, "Really? Are you seriously going to keep walking over that poop, pretending you don't see it just so I have to clean it up? This is like the tenth time today that you've walked RIGHT over it. This is disgusting.")

So when Andy pulled up three minutes later, I was just getting out of my car and all, "Oh, hi. Wow. Totally random that we got here at the same time, huh? That pretty much never happens. What a coincedence!" And Andy was all, "What the fuck are you trying to hide, Sara?" And I was all, "Ha, ha, ha, oh, you. You sweet, beautiful, charming fiancee of mine. Don't be silly!" And he was all, "There's shit in the house, isn't there?"

He knows me so well.

So I guess that after five minutes of not smelling the putrid scent of twosies in the air, I had forgotten how bad it was. And when we opened the door to go in the second time, I started gagging so I had to go *back* outside in order to not throw up. Which is when I hear Andy inside sounding like Chewbacca or something because he's not really forming coherent sentences but occasionally I think I hear something resembling the words fuck, bitch, and wearesosellingthisgoddamndog.

Which obviously gets the best of my curiosity. So I plugged my nose and headed in to see what was making Andy go all Mel Gibson on Penny Lane. When I peeked around the corner into the room where we keep the dogs, I saw Penny Lane.

Covered. In. Shit.

I mean, it was everywhere. It was caked on her feet, her legs, her belly, her tail, and the top of her motherfucking HEAD, y'all. The bottom of her cage was completely brown, the shit smeared on the floor like she had been finger painting with it.

Which would seem pretty bad. But alone, that story is nothing. Because Penny decided to shit in her kennel again EVERY GODDAMN DAY for four days in a row. So for four days in a row, I got to come home from work to the smells of Miss Penny Lane. So yeah, last week was a really great week for me.

*Insert appropriate segueway

I just realized yesterday that I have never posted on my blog how I came up with the blog name Sara Swears a Lot. I posted it on 20sb, but if you haven't seen it, enjoy:

I came up with the blog name Sara Swears a Lot because of my best friend in high school (and still today), Katelynn. We were on danceline together which meant we were required to sit together at the football games. We were also required to do the cheers with the cheerleaders when we weren't dancing.

Katelynn and I were obviously way fucking cooler than any of the other prima donnas on danceline because we always found ways to get out of practice, games, cheering, whateverelsetheseniorgirlswantedustodo. I don't take well to someone one year older than me bossing me around just because she can, thankyouverymuch.

(But getting in trouble in high school is an entirely different post. Seriously, I could go on for days.)

So one Friday night, we were sitting in the bleachers at the football game. We were supposed to be cheering, but instead we decided to fuck off (as usual). Somehow the conversation turned to Barbies modeled after real-life people. We then realized that we wanted to make Barbies out of ourselves and would need some sort of "accessory" that Barbies always seem to have.

We decided that her doll would be Chlamydia Katelynn (we weren't intelligent enough to realize Chlamydia started with a C), and she would come with a stripper pole and some prescription medicine. (Also, I just googled chlamydia at work so I might be getting some weird looks from people in the next couple of days.)

And since I have had a filthy mouth since high school, we decided my doll would be Sara Swears A Lot and would come with a pullstring Barbie that said things like, "Fuck you, bitch!" and, "Goddamn it!" every time you pulled the string. Also, it would sometimes say those things without you even doing anything. Because Saras always end up saying inappropriate things at the most inconvenient times.

And I think my blog name has actually worked really well for me. It keeps the religious creepers away and invites the horrible, bad biker crowd to my little old blog, dontcha think?

Housekeeping at Sara Swears a Lot (The best happy endings in the business.)

*I never put an ending date on the giveaway for the Chippendale calendar because I'm disorganized like that and have never done a giveaway before. So the ending date is tomorrow night (Wednesday) at midnight. I've had a fucking blast reading these to Andy, and he already has five favorites. Clickity click here to enter. Good luck, perverts!

*If you want to be a part of my amazing, beautiful, coolestthingever living room decoration for all eternity, all you have to do is send me a postcard because that would be too much awesomeness to handle. So if you haven't already and want to help the cause, shoot me an email at tatorhead328 at yahoo dot com. I might send you nudey pictures back. Or a million dollars. But probably don't count on the million dollars.


  1. Sigh. I had to go through that same thing recently. Our new puppy shit all over himself and the kennel daily. I.Do.Not.Deal.Well.With.Feces.

    The end.

    P.S. - Vagina.

  2. Wow. Penny Lane, which is funny enough, my 'pretend' name, is impressive in her handling of shit without thumbs. How in the hell did it get onto the top of her head? I guess you probably don't know. I like the Sara Swears A Lot origin. That's a Barbie I would like to have. Talk to Mattel about that and see what you can do.

  3. Do I still count as a religious creeper if I got kicked out of my church for being inappropriate? As if Jesus was surprised I had a vagina.

  4. Your blogname is the only reason I came here. I saw it on someone elses blog and I was like 'That bitch? She's my kinda girl. That bitch would *get* me. And I could probably say cunt in front of her and she wouldn't faint like every other goddamn person on the planet because apparently squeezing a baby out of my happy place restricts my vocabulary to disney-level, fuck-that-very-much.' And then I found out you accepted random people as friends and I knew I was in. I like my women desperate. And half drunk.

    Husbot and I have a similar deal as you an Andy do with shit, except ours is with dishes and nappies. Sometimes I just throw nappies at him and freak out about what a slob he is, like I don't do the EXACT same thing when he's not around, AMIRIGHT?

  5. The first time I read that, I was picturing you throwing napkins at your husband, and then I googled "what the fuck is a nappy, England?" but that just gave me porn so instead I googled "nappy England" and found out it was a diaper and EW, that is so gross but hilarious and I totally respect you for that.

    Also, I'm pretty much as desperate as they come so BFFFFF?

  6. I thought hurting people for no reason was the American way. Have our fore fathers lied to us?!?! I don't know who the fore fathers were but those guys are dicks.

  7. Ahh poor you coming home to shit, I'm lucky my dog is too embarrassed to take a shit with someone looking at him let alone finger paint with it...I always thought he was socially retarded but now I guess I'm grateful!

  8. I had this super long comment that I was gonna leave...but I'm spacey so...if he's gonna clean it up anyways shouldn't the rule be 'Whenever Andy finds the poop he cleans it up?'

  9. I think my favorite part is: "There's shit in the house isn't there" LOVE IT.

  10. Shit is really the most fun thing to write about. Hey, at least it was your dog covered in it and not your fiancee, right?

    Love the "Sara Swears A Lot" doll...fucking genius.

  11. Speaking of dolls with their own phrases, that is a game my friends and I play while drinking. It usually starts when someone says something stupid (so...about 2 drinks in), and someone else says, "if you were a doll with a pull-string, that'd be one of your phrases."

    It's a good game to play sober too.

  12. "What the fuck are you trying to hide Sara?" I think I just pissed myself laughing.

    And the dogs, why? WHY don't you just sew up her asshole?

  13. My dog kennedy did that once. Except my friend was puppy-sitting her and kennedy ran right into another dogs poop while he was going and then rolled in it.

  14. Can I send you a postcard without that whole having to explain to my wife why some strange woman from Louisiana is sending me living room implements?

  15. Oh I had a Great Dane who took a whole sirloin roast off the counter and we were woken at 2AM Shit Splatter on the walls....We had to leave her outside all night...which made me cry and we scheduled carpet cleaning with an emergency on call service at 4 AM they were there at 8AM...It was horrible! I loved my dog though!

  16. MJenks - Do you think she'll be upset if a calendar of half-naked men makes its way to your mailbox? You're in the running to win that magical piece of artwork. I blame your usage of so many dirty words. Men are so easily swayed...

  17. No joys in dog shit...There are people who like shit and shit being on them...;Sick fuckers they are..Glad to hear your not one of those peeps.


    ~ Teek
    Would love for ya to come check out my blog

    Have a terrific, fun filled, shit free week!

  18. What a shitty way to come home from work. Nasty!

  19. This post epitomizes my fear of having children or pets outside of my parent's house or any other small helpless thing that is at all dependent on me. I can barely take care of myself, let alone clean up someone else's shit. THE HORROR. I would totally pull the wait-in-the-car move too.

  20. These people are obviously way fucking nicer than me...I would have locked up and drove to wal mart or some shit. Maybe bought a piece of walmart fabulous lingerie to sweeten the deal. But probably just brownies. Or porn. p.s. I LOVE your blog. So I linked to you and added you to my blog roll. I an fully expecting sexual favors now.

  21. BWWHHAAA! wow what an epic post! great post to come back and read.
    shit covered dogs and covering up your tracks you are super sleuthy girlfriend...:o)

  22. I'm sending the first postcard of a dog shitting that I can find. Should be easy, right? After all I live in Redneckyville, home to all things shitty. (Great post, BTW)

  23. Sara, I have no worries about that showing up. In fact, should I be the lucky recipient, I plan on cutting the men from the high gloss paper, affixing them to my face like a mask, and trying to finally talk her into some sexy time.

    It's either that or pictures of Alan Rickman at this point.

  24. That is the most disgusting thing I've read all day. And I've read a lot of disgusting things, so, uh, congratulations are in order. :)

  25. Just reading about the shit made me gag. Ewww.

  26. I just read the poop bit aloud to Manfriend. He was laughing his ass off especially with your whole, trying to be all innocent and samurai like waiting for Andy to get home.

    And : TWOSIES.

    So I like totally, like radically, have to send you a postcard.

  27. Newly following you! LOVE the blog! Seems we have so much in common! Can't wait to read more.

    We also do the "whoever smells it cleans it." Well, we did but that has changed when I realized that MY nose seemed to be the only functioning nose in the house.


  28. I think you'll appreciate THIS post mama.

  29. I have just downloaded iStripper, so I can watch the sexiest virtual strippers on my taskbar.