Tuesday, June 22, 2010

Fictional Characters I'd Like to Fuck (I Really Hope My Mom Finds This One)

I received a bloggy challenge this week from one of my favorite bloggers of all fucking time. And I have some boring news down at the bottom if you get that far. You're welcome for the warning.

Aly from Calling People Names gifted me with the Plastic Joy Award.



The rules are to "list (and then explain your reasoning) 5 characters you’d like to do the horizontal whiplash with".

So since I think about sex roughly 86% of the day, I figure this challenge should be easy. And what do you know? It was! And so it begins.

1. David "Gordo" Gordon from Lizzie McGuire.



I chose Gordo because I had the hugest hard-on on him in middle school when I was addicted to the Disney show Lizzie McGuire. I loved his curly fro hair, and he was the sweet best friend who loved Lizzie all along. And now that I'm older? I want to do dirty, dirty things to Gordo. I even had a sex dream about him not that long ago. (Also? Totally not creepy because Gordo was in his 20s when he was on Lizzie McGuire. Fair game!)

2. Aldous Snow from Forgetting Sarah Marshall.



Obviously, this guy is a fucking freak. And a cheater. And he has STDs. But this is my fucking MIND, okay? Stop judging me. The guy HAS to be amazing in bed. After all, he did teach the nerdy kid how to pleasure his wife, didn't he? And every time I hear that accent? Panty change!

3. Prince Eric from The Little Mermaid.



Look at that face. Seriously. Disney movies just set me up for a lifetime of perviness. How was I NOT supposed to think of sex looking at that cartoon character? I just want to rip his fucking clothes off. He's got that chiseled jaw, the strong arms, his long, hard.... um, legs? And the way he looks at Ariel? I think I'm going to have to go take a cigarette break.

4. Chad Dylan Cooper from Sonny With a Chance.



You might have noticed that I have a thing for Disney characters. But this guy is fucking adorable. And don't worry -- he's totally legal. Well, the actor is, not the character. But I think I'm okay with that. And ugh, his hair. So fucking hot. And I could feel a little cougary. Demi Lovato ain't got shit on me.

5. Tallahassee, Wichita, and Columbus from Zombieland.



Yes please.



More please.



Hell fucking yes.

Seriously? Hottest. Foursome. Ever. Plus it's the end of the world, people! It's Zombieland! Which means some kinky shit is bound to happen with these three. They're witty, they're sexy, and they're exactly the kind of people I want to take my foursome virginity. If I have to experience the end of the world, I should at least get to fuck three hot ass people while I'm at it. Also, I seem to have a thing for fro-hair because Jesse Eisenberg's hair makes my mouth water.

Picking fictional characters to make sexy time with was a little too easy. And now I feel a little like a creep.

Anycreepysexperv, on to the boring shit.

Weigh-In Wednesdays have been put on hold. I've lost a total of about 15 pounds, and I'm feeling really fucking good so I'm kind of just rolling with it at the moment. Also, I don't really want to commit to saying I'll do something every single week because work is a KILLER at the moment.

Also, you guys all seemed like you wanted to know how everything worked out concerning the big fat ugly fuck who stole money from me. Well it's STILL GOING ON. The bank told me they can't refund all my money because it was a debit purchase.

And I would probably be cussing/ranting/screaming a lot more about the fact that I'm not getting my money back if it weren't for an incident that happened recently in my area of the country.

There was a family from my city camping at the Albert Pike Campground in Arkansas a couple of weeks ago. Two parents and two little girls (ages 2 & 7). When the floods hit, they had no warning. They tried to get in their truck and drive away, but the waters flipped their car over. The father grabbed the mother and pushed her to safety. By the time he turned around to get his daughters, they were gone. He helped several more people get away, but he didn't make it out alive. The funeral was last Friday.

I may have been stolen from. I may not get the total amount back that was stolen from me. But I would rather have everything I own stolen from me than lose my family. Therefore, every penny I get back of the money stolen from me will be donated to the woman who lost the three most important people in her life. Maybe if I turn karma around and make a bad thing into a good thing, more people can do the same.

UPDATE:

The bank called me right as I was about to hit Publish. They're refunding every penny that was taken from me. And I'm keeping good on my promise. The total amount refunded will go straight to helping another person who is in a worse spot than me. And I'd really like to encourage all of you to do just one good deed today. If you don't have enough money to donate to a cause, just do something nice. Tell somebody their shoes are cute, let a family member know how grateful you are to have them in your life, let a person out in traffic.

The little acts of kindness add up. And I know I'm a bitch on this blog. (And in real life sometimes.) So let's take a second out of our day and do something for someone else. Leave me a comment letting me know what act of kindness you've done today, and I might, maybe, may just have a nice little present for my favorite one.

Go get 'em, bitches!

Monday, June 14, 2010

You're Welcome, Community.

Some fat motherfucker tried to jack $100 from me this weekend. And here is how it went down:

Friday night was spent getting driz-unk. So Saturday I was going to take it easy with the liquor and just drink a little wine. I was at a friend's house, and we decided to make a Circle K run for booze. I wanted one cheap ass bottle of wine, and my friend wanted beer. I was completely sober (bummer!) so I offered to drive us there.

My friend went in first and bought what he needed while I was trying to find my wallet in my way too fucking big purse. By the time I was walking in, he was on his way out to wait for me in the car. I browsed the aisles for a minute or two to find what cheap ass wine would be the least disgusting. As I was walking around, I noticed the cashier staring at me. I didn't think anything of it because um, hello? I'm hawt. People stare.

When I made it up the counter, the dumb fuck told me he had to run my card as debit rather than credit because the machine had been acting up. Knowing something odd was going on, I said it was fine for him to run it as debit. (I just wanted to get the fuck away from his creepy gaze.)

After running my card and entering my pin, he just stared at me like he wanted to wear my skin as a coat until I ran out of there without getting a receipt. I figured I would rather miss a receipt than be skinned by a fatass.

And so it began.

The next morning (ahem, afternoon) when I woke up, I went to check my bank account. (Because I'm a responsible person, and I check my bank account DAILY. Even Saturdays and Sundays, bitches.) Lo and behold, there was a charge from Circle K for $111.13.

$111.13!!!!!!!

For one fucking bottle of wine. I wasn't buying chardo-fucking-nnay. I immediately thought of that fat piece of shit behind the counter. I told Andy to get ready NOW, and we ran to the car to start the long, long five minute drive to Circle K.

When I first walked in, I was shaking uncontrollably from anger. I probably looked like I had epilepsy. I explained my situation as calmly as I could, and the shit storm began. The Assistant Manager spent TWO. HOURS. That's right. TWO. HOURS. looking for the receipt so we could see what exactly he had done. The whole time she is looking for the receipt, she is also calling the guy who did it who, coincedentally, is not answering.

She finally gets the receipt reprinted and oh, look at that! There was a $100 gift card purchased by my credit card last night. Huh. I don't think I remember buying that.

OH YEAH. THAT'S BECAUSE I FUCKING DIDN'T.

Right about that time, the dumb fuck returned the Assistant Manager's calls to see what was going on. After explaining the situation to him, he said, "Well, I remember one drunk middle-aged woman coming in here around 1 AM to buy wine and a gift card."

EXCUSE ME?

Did he just call me middle-aged?

Oh, it's on.

The fucking blind idiot told her he would be up there shortly to figure out what was going on. The guy who STOLE money from me and was actually caught in the fucking act was going to show up and try to play it off. I was trembling with excitement at getting to look in the eyes of the person who fucked me over and listen to him try to make excuses. I mean, really. How often do we get the chance to actually talk to the person who stole from us?

I was sitting in the car with Fiancee when we saw dumbfatfuckingidiotputonsomegoddamnshoes walk in the door. I suddenly morphed into ghetto black girl mode. "There he be," I said as I threw open my door and stepped outside. After slamming my car door like a badass, I walked like a woman on a mission into the store.

The dumbass was standing at the front of the store staring at me and Fiancee awkwardly for about fifteen seconds.

"Remember me?" I said with hate oozing out of my eyes.

He tried to pull of a confused look. But of course. He didn't recognize me. Even though I was the only goddamn person in the whole goddamn store at 1 AM. Fucking dipshit.

"Yeah, you stole $100 from me last night off of my debit card, genius." His pudgy mouth opened and excuses started pouring out. At that point, I think lava started pouring out of my nostrils.

"Get. The. FUCK. Away from me. Right fucking NOW." I'm pretty sure I grew devil's horns as this came out of my mouth. He held up his hands, as if surrendering, and walked to the other side of the store. The first smart move of the day.

When the manager gets back and takes the four of us to the stock room, I'm pretty ready to lay into him.

(Oh, and so is the manager. She was supposed to leave work to go meet her daughter for her final wedding dress fitting before the big day. Thanks to this little matter, she didn't make it in time. Her daughter said, "But you're my mom. You're supposed to be here for this." And this my friends? THIS is where most of my anger was coming from. I can get my $100 back. But this woman will NEVER get that moment back again. Piece. Of. Shit.)

The manager starts asking him what exactly happened. After he gives bullshit response after bullshit response, she gets fed up and walks back into the store to figure out what to do. And I have a feeling she left me and Fiancee back there with dumbfuckingfug on purpose. He was actually inside the stock room, and we were blocking the door.

If this story played out like I wanted it to, I would tell you that I beat the everlovingshit out of him. Unfortunately, that is kind of against the law. Plus I didn't want him to squash me with his giant man titties. Instead, I cussed him up one side and down the other. I was raising my voice, I was snarling like a dog ready to bite, I had my finger all up in his face, and I was Z snapping with the best of the black girls. At the point when I thought I was going to scratch his eyes right out of his head, I turned and walked off.

Which is where Fiancee picked up. Fiancee was just as mad as me so he tore into this guy just like I had seconds earlier. And let me tell you. Finacee is scary as FUCK when he is angry. When I felt that he was almost finished with his ranting, I walked back up the guy.

"By the way, I'm calling the police right now so I can't wait to see the video surveillance."

Which is when fatfuck made a beeline for the exit. Um, guilty much?

Once the cops showed up, the manager walked up to me with the telephone. She didn't tell me who it was, but after saying hello, I heard that obnoxious voice in my ear.

"I don't need your $100. I have a job. Why don't you just meet me up at Circle K for my shift on Thursday, and I'll give you $120."

I like the fact that he honestly believed he still had a job at that point.

The fun ended after that. I just had a police report written up, and the cop told me a detective would be in touch with me soon.

About five minutes after I left, the cop called me on my cell phone. "So we just watched the video. That guy rang up your purchase and right as you were walking out the door, he reached around to grab a $100 gift card and swipe it. He put it in his pocket along with the receipt. I just wanted to let you know that it wasn't all in your head." After he told me to keep being sweet (obviously he wasn't around for the cussing party), I hung up and cheered a happy cheer.

Another thief off the streets. You're welcome, local community.

Friday, June 4, 2010

Interviewing the White Tie Affair AKA Who The Fuck Are These Guys?

So my Bloggerstock post never got posted. And I sent it to two people. I guess my language is a bit much for the normal people out there who don't have douchefuck in their daily vocabulary.

The bitch in charge at Bloggerstock even sent me an email, and I felt the need to explain my post a little.

Here's my post. I hope it's going to a good home. Actually, I hope it goes to a dysfunctional home with a stepdad who drinks too much Natural Light and tells really embarassing jokes about his penis. I think my post would probably fit in better there anyways.


So I basically got Jew'd on my post.

On to the story I've been meaning to write for over a week.

A couple of weeks ago, I heard that the White Tie Affair would be playing at a bar in town starting at 4. So I decided to go because 1. I have an excuse to start drinking early 2. I have an excuse to leave work and 3. I have an excuse to start drinking early.

I met my future lesbian sister-in-law at the bar at 3:30. And yes, it was completely necessary to say lesbian there because we spent the first hour talking about hot girls/boobs/flirting with female bartenders.

When I ordered my first glass of wine, we asked the bartender when the show was supposed to start. After giving us a stupid shit ass response that did not answer our question, he asked if we were big fans. I didn't want to be a jerk so I figured I would just lie, say yes, and go find a table far away from this nosy sonofabitch bartender.

But... you see, sometimes my mouth has a way of getting ahead of my brain. Instead of giving a vague answer and leaving, my mouth said, "Oh, fuck yes. We are huge fans of White Tie Affair. Like, biggest fans ever. I have a poster of them on my wall, actually." And I'm not really sure how my mouth came to this decision, but I asked, "Do you think I can get them to make out with me at the end of the night? And by them, I mean all four of them."

(Interesting sidebar: There are only three of them. Mouth blew the cover again.)

After bullshitting my way through something that didn't even require bullshitting, I went to get a table with my sister-in-law and wait for Fiancee to show up. While we were waiting, our local radio personality showed up. After talking to the bartender for a few minutes, she made a beeline for our table.

Her: So the bartender told me that you guys are huge fans of White Tie Affair!

Me: Um, oh. Yeah, such huge fans! We love every single song! Best band ever!

Her: So which one is your favorite??

Me: My favorite? Oh, well. Um. How could I possibly choose? I guess, um, the singer?

Her: Oh, he's my favorite, too! They should be here any minute and then I can get you guys some autographs!

Me: Oh, super. Yeah, that's so exciting. Can't wait!

After she walked away, SIL and I looked at each other. "Fuck," I said. "What the fuck are we supposed to do now? I don't know anything about this damn band, and she's going to introduce us to them. Fuck that fucking bartender, dude." (You probably think my use of the word fuck that often in one sentence is odd, that I couldn't possibly cuss that much. Well, my friend, you are wrong. Especially after wine is involved.) After laughing at how ridiculous this night was already going (and getting my second glass of liquid courage), SIL came up with a great plan.

"Wait a second. You have your iPhone with you, right?" And that is all it took. I'm pretty sure that the iPhone was invented for moments like this. After googling the band, we actually found out something that intrigued us both.

White Tie Affair had played at a Playboy pajama party.

How badass is that? My lesbian SIL was excited about this discovery because duh. She likes hot women. I was excited about this discovery because hello? I'm pretty sure everyone can appreciate a hot girl with a nice rack, imjustsayin.

Now most people probably wouldn't center an entire interview around one random fact such as this. But we are not most people. When we were introduced to the lead singer, we let him know that we had several questions. At that point, stupidbitchradiopersonality pulled out a camera and said she wanted to film it.

Really, Universe? I know we lied, but come on! It wasn't even that big of a lie!

Luckily, we got through it pretty nicely, and I think I censored myself pretty well. (And by pretty well, I mean I only said "fuck" and "blow jay" once.) Plus it turns out the band is pretty fucking cool and could handle every question we threw at them with style and sex appeal.

Questions such as:

Did you get to squeeze some Playboy bunny boobies?
Do you know how many you got to squeeze?
Did you get a boner while performing in front of half-naked bunnies?
Did you see Hugh Hefner naked? If so, did his balls looks shriveled?
You toured with Lady Gaga. Did you fuck her?

I'm pretty sure this interview isn't going on the website.

Note: Also, the lead singer (whose name I still don't remember) signed a picture for me "To my favorite girlfriend. Rawrrr!" There's nothing like being a groupie.

Also? Remind me to tell the story of the nasty tittied groupie who was completely ignored by the band ALL. FUCKING. NIGHT. Maybe you should have spent your money on a sense of humor instead of a botched breast job, yaknowwhadimsayin?

Wednesday, June 2, 2010

Weigh-In Wednesday

So this week has blown major ass so far. All eight of my friends at work quit over the previous two to three weeks so I now have no one to help me get through the day. My in-laws were in town for Memorial Day weekend so I got no sleep. My air conditioner in my house isn't working, and the high temperature this weekend is over 100 degrees. I'm too poor to afford to have someone come fix the A/C right now so me, my fiancee, and our three dogs will be sweating our balls off for a few weeks.

(And I don't want to hear ANY of you say, "Well, it's 90 degrees here, Sara. We're hot, too!" NO. ABSOLUTELY NOT. Until you live in Louisiana/Texas with the sweltering heat and humidity, you never get to complain about heat. I've been to states a little further north in the summers. And it is absolutely nothing compared to here. In Louisiana, the heat sucks the breath right out of you. So shut the fuck up, northern complainers.)

And on to Weigh-In Wednesday.



Starting Weight: 189.2
Last Week's Weight: 182.4
Current Weight: 181.4
This Week's Loss: 1.0
Total Loss: 7.8

At least something went right this week.

I should also let you know that I am trying something new that not everyone agrees with: Adipex. A wonderful, beautiful, amazing, bestfriendforever weight loss drug. The reason I have chosen to use this to help me along for the next 2.5 months is because I'm getting married in FIVE months. Planning a wedding is stressful enough without having to worry about losing weight to look good in pictures.

I will be taking adipex for 3 months, and my goal is to lose 30 pounds which should honestly be a piece of cake. I figured some of you might like to know how it works from a personal perspective so I'll give you my thoughts on the process as I'm using it.

I've been taking Adipex for exactly one week. I typically take it in the afternoon and get a huge rush of adrenaline. I get shit done at work, I'm incredibly friendly, and I can't wait to get home and work out. I'm not hungry. Ever. Like, so not hungry that I have to remind myself to eat otherwise I'll get a severe headache.

I can run much longer distances on the treadmill, and I actually look forward to getting on the scale the next day.

Now, adipex is not a "miracle drug". Yes, it will make the weight fly off of you. Yes, you will lose weight without even lifting a finger. BUT. If you don't use it properly and with caution, you will end up gaining it all back. Adipex decreases your appetite. When you stop taking it, your appetite comes back. So now YOU have to control how much you eat and how often you work out.

Hopefully, I will get to my goal weight and be able to maintain it. And look smoking hot in my wedding pictures, obviously.