Friday, February 25, 2011

Pajama Jeans 4 Lyfe

Behold, the beauty that is Pajama Jeans:

While Andy, his sister, and I were in Oklahoma, we all three stayed in one hotel room because we're cheap bitches like that. Andy and I were going to sleep, and Emily was laying in the other bed, watching TV. When the show she was watching went to commercial, I heard something familiar. It sounded like.... a little piece of heaven. Like a chorus of angels, singing merrily.

It was the Pajama Jeans commercial.

Knowing how amazing I think Pajama Jeans must be, I glanced up at Emily to see if she would have the same reaction I did the first time I saw that very same commercial. When I looked over at her, she was frozen in shock, one hand covering her mouth, while her jaw hung down in disbelief. "She must be shocked by how similar those Pajama Jeans look to real jeans," I thought to myself. They look like they're made by some European designer or something! It doesn't get much better than that, y'all.

A few weeks later, the Super Secret Sunday Society was over, and we were discussing Pajama Jeans again.

(Aside:  Super Secret Sunday Society began when Andy and I started inviting Emily over every Sunday night to eat a (sometimes) homemade dinner and watch The Walking Dead. My best friend came into the mix when we realized that we are quite possibly the most awesome people in the history of ever when we get together. Plus she brings cupcakes. So now every Sunday, we play games or watch tv/movies with dinner, and it's officially my new favorite night of the week.)

It was a Saturday night, and we were all extremely drunk. (Note:  Next time I get extremely drunk, HIDE THE GODDAMN CREDIT CARD.) "Dude, I'm going to order some Pajama Jeans right fucking now, and I'm gonna wear them everywhere, and you're going to be embarrassed to be at the mall with me, but that's okay because I'm comfortable with myself enough to rock the shit out of these Pajama Jeans." After Emily and Katelynn encouraged me (thanks a lot, drunkies), I went on the website only to find out that Pajama Jeans are FIFTY FUCKING DOLLARS A PAIR. Which is when I scoffed and said fuck that shit and decided to try and move on from Pajama Jeans.

But I couldn't get them out of my head, y'all. In the middle of the night, at work, during sex. All I could picture was how much fun Pajama Jeans and me could have been having. Swinging each other through the air in a field of dandelions, sharing a bowl of popcorn at the movies until our fingers accidentally graze each other's and then we giggle and look away shyly, dancing in the middle of the street to no music...

I decided I had to have them. I asked the Twitter community if it was a good idea first and received a resounding YES from one person. That's all the encouragement I needed. I immediately went online to order my first ever pair of PajamaLoveSexJeans.

And this is where the love story starts turning into that upsetting scene in Labrynth, y'know, how the whole movie is pretty much the best movie in the entire Universe, except then David Bowie does that dance sequence with the little creature things, and you're all WHAT. THE. FUCKING. FUCK. I have lost the little respect I had for you, David Bowie, especially if you refuse to take that piratey shirt off for this whole damn movie. Suffice it to say, it turned bad.

The website tricked me into placing two separate orders, one for only one pair of Pajama Jeans and the other for two pairs of Pajama Jeans. Which means I had just spent two hundred dollars on motherfucking Pajama Jeans. Which made me not very happy. And when I'm not very happy, you know what has to happen, right? EVERYONE ON TWITTER MUST KNOW.

And apparently Pajama Jeans are super on top of things because I immediately got a reply back from a PR person for the company. He asked what was going on and requested that I send him an email, explaining my situation. This is an excerpt from the email I sent:

"Hopefully we can get this figured out, because I don't know how much longer I can go on without the styling of jeans and the comfort of pajamas. Just because I'm busy, doesn't mean I can't look sharp, right? And they even look like they were made by some European designer! (Although I'm guessing they were made by some 7 year old South African children in a sweat shop.) And have you seen the women in the commercial? They look ridiculously happy tending to their gardens and drinking coffee in those pajamas jeans. I don't do a lot of gardening or drinking coffee at the local cafe because I have a job and shit to do unlike those women, but I could always just imagine I'm at a ritzy hotel when I'm really sitting in my trailer in my pajama jeans, watching the latest episode of Teen Mom 2. (It's way better than the original Teen Mom.)

Pajama Jeans 4 Lyfe,

And my good friend, Ryan: PR Person Extraordinare, wrote me back. Here is an excerpt:

"Not only will we resolve your situation but my hope is that we can improve the system so that more people can have their PajamaJeans so they can await the release of Teen Mom 3 (this will be the original child from the original Teen Mom, making her (insert dramatic music) Teen Grandmom."

Apparently this new phrase is catching on in Ryan's world EVERYWHERE:

You're welcome, Ryan. You're welcome.

Stay tuned for future vlog/blog posts, detailing my love affair with Pajama Jeans. It's going to be the sexiest thing you've ever seen, I'm pretty sure.

Also, much love to Ryan for being the most amazing PR person I've ever dealt with in my entire life. I would offer you sexual favors, but I'm pretty sure that's not allowed. Wink, wink. Nudge, nudge. Meetyououtback.


Thank you to everyone for making this the most fun bloggyversary week ever. (I've only had one, so I'm really just guessing here.) Mardi Gras is for the next two weekends, so I'll take plenty of pictures and make y'all feel like you were here, too. (If I remember.) (AKA I'm gonna be reeeeaaallll drunk, guys.) (For like two weeks straight.) (Because that's what Mardi Gras is all about.)

Love & Orgasms,


Wednesday, February 23, 2011

Bloggyversary Year One: Today's the Day!

I've been reading blogs for as long as I can remember. I started reading Dooce years ago, before I even really knew what a blog was. From there, I found more and more blogs. And that's when I fell in love. Not with writing, but with reading. I found that these people I had never even met were more interesting to me than 90% of the people I was around on a daily basis. They were funny and offensive, and they didn't give a fuck what anyone else thought.

I was (and still am) so envious of people who can put what they're thinking into words that resonate with others. Some people have this amazing ability to give people goosebumps with only their writing. That felt so powerful to me. Even though I didn't consider myself a "writer", I wanted to be a part of this group of people.

After starting this new bloggy home, I realized that blogging is not even close to what I thought it was. At first, blogging was a place to read and share funny stories. A lighthearted hobby. Something to do when I was bored at work. After a year, this blog (and you people) have become so much more than a hobby to me.

I never expected to read such personal, beautiful things in the bloggy world. I never expected to have my whole day go from shitstorm to wonderful because of a funny comment. I never expected to fall in love with so many of your faces, because you get me. Through this blog, I've made friends. Not just online friends. Real, disgusting, hilarious, perverted, silly friends, who know how to make an offensive joke and who make me say, "ZOMG, you noticed how big that guy's package (SFW) on Ever After was, too?!"

Your comments make me laugh and love you even more. I can't count the number of times I've woken up to a comment that made me lay in bed laughing so hard, my stomach hurt. Or the time I was crying in my car when I checked the mail and found a postcard from a bloggy friend that made me giggle until I'd almost forgotten what I was crying about. Comments that get me through the work day. Emails that get me through a down period in life. Jokes that make me thankful there are people with an even sicker sense of humor than me out there, so when we get to Heaven, Jesus will be all, "Well, you're not as bad as that guy... I guess you can come in."

Even months later, I read this post and the comments from you, and it makes me cry. And that is exactly what people who don't understand the blogging world are missing out on. They don't get that we aren't just a list of websites linked together. We're a goddamn community. We protect our blogging friends like mama bears, we embarrass ourselves for the sake of cheering each other up, and we give damn good e-hugs. (Along with e-head. But that's a different post for a different day.)

I thought that I was supposed to be like all these blogs I read. I thought I should be writing emotional things that make people cry. But that's just not my place in blogland. I'm not a sappy, emotional girl, so why should my blog read that way? My blog is me. It's silly and vulgar and immature at times. My blog is that girl who is crazy as shit and throws things against the wall but apologizes for it right after and you still love her because she's just too fucking adorable not to love. Yes, that's my blog.

So I want to say thank you. Thank you for letting me into your lives by writing personal, lovely things that I'm glad I get to hear about. Thank you for giving me something to look forward to. Thank you for giving Andy and me fun projects to work on together. Thank you for making me laugh and making me cry and everything in between. This year has been one of the best years of my life, and I don't doubt for a minute that part of that is owed to this blog and your blogs. You're all amazing. Now let's make out.

P. S. Not only is it my bloggyversary today, it's also the one year anniversary of one of my best (and first) bloggity friends ever, Courtney! Go read her blog because she's hilarious and gorgeous and that bish. Also, she sent me a book called "Nuns Having Fun." It doesn't get much better than that, folks.

P. S. S. I promised you some pictures, right? In my vlog yesterday, I showed my huge ass homecoming corsage. Here are the best pictures I could find. (My mother has most of the pictures from that time period at her house.)

That's me in the brown dress, in case you couldn't tell. You can see how long the corsage is in comparison to my dress. Note that the other girl in the picture has a silver corsage -- seniors get all white/silver corsages, and juniors get school colors. The guy standing next to me (not the creepy date who tried to kiss me all night) is my friend Billy, and he was on America's Best Dance Crew on MTV and yes, I am being all, I KNOW A FAMOUS PERSON LOOKATME, but it is a little exciting, don't you think? (Especially considering we're from such a small town.)

This is a better picture of all the girls with their corsages on. I'm way in the back because I was sosososo not popular, so just make fun of the girls up front.

And because I'm pretty sure I've never showed y'all a picture of our high school danceline outfits....

Don't hate. They're all traditional and shit. Apparently, girls have been wearing these (expensive ass) uniforms for decades. Shut up. You know you want to tap that.

Tuesday, February 22, 2011

Bloggyversary Year One: Vlog Edition

It's Day 2 of Bloggyversary Week! I wasn't sure what to do for Day 2, so my good friend Lily gave me an idea for a vlog in which you all learn how churchy awesome I used to be. You're welcome in advance for the nerdery. Stay tuned for tomorrow, which is my official one year bloggyversary. I promise I won't be lazy and film another vlog.

Friday, February 18, 2011

I'm Pretty Sure Snuggies Just Made My Life

Three posts in one week? Whaaaaa?

If you aren't on 20sb, you might not know that I'm the Snuggie GIF Queen. Because I'm pretty sure Snuggie GIFs make everyone happy. How can you look at this and not immediately be cheered up?

This family of four is raising the roof like no one ever has before. And they're warm and sipping coffee while they do it! Can you do that under a normal blanket?

I don't think so.

Here's more proof that putting on a Snuggie immediately turns you into the happiest person on the planet:

Look! Snuggie Mom isn't even pissed that Snuggie Dad is always trying to steal her spotlight. Bitch can't even hula hoop in her Snuggie for two seconds before Dad Snuggie is all, "LOOK AT ME! LOOK AT ME JUGGLING! ME ME ME ME. HAPPIEST JUGGLING MAN IN A SNUGGIE EVER."

And right after he totally shows her up (because everyone knows juggling is way harder than hula hooping), he steals the fucking remote right out of her hand. What. A. Dick.

And the macarena? In a motherfucking Snuggie? Life doesn't get much better than this, y'all. I don't know how that many people happened to show up to a club and just happened to be in their Snuggie gear, but goddamn that Snuggie club scene makes me want to get down to some Ying Yang Twins in my Snuggie. Droppin' it like it's hot and backin' that ass up -- Snuggie style.

So after posting so many Snuggie GIFs and seeing how over-the-moon happy these people in the commercials were, I decided it needed to be tested. I own a Snuggie but had never really used it because I didn't want to be accused of being a Dorkasauras Rex. Luckily, I pulled it out of the closet, dusted it off, and created this just for you:

I made Andy film me looking super fucking happy in my Snuggie all over the house, doing all sorts of awesome things you can't do under a regular blanket. And you know I couldn't make a video of all that without GIF'ing myself, right? (GIF'ing myself *giggle*) The full video is hiz-ere (no sound necessary):

I plan on making a full-length Snuggie commercial this weekend. Maybe I'll enter it in Sundance or something.

Thursday, February 17, 2011

The Community Can Officially Blow Me

Remember when I was summoned to court to testify against the jackass who stole money from me except that he never showed up and then I got really angry and wanted to punch somebody and then I was summoned again and dude didn't show up the second time and I begged God/Buddha/Britney to please never make me have to go to court again because GODDAMN it is so fucking boring listening to traffic violations all fucking day?


So while I was there, I wrote out a bunch of things I wanted to tweet when I was finally allowed to turn my phone back on because my phone was off like it was supposed to be (LOOKING AT YOU, IDIOT SITTING IN FRONT OF ME.) And when I left, I realized I had entirely too many things written to actually tweet because I didn't want everyone to be all, "Ohmygod, shut the FUCK up, nobody cares about the Shim you saw in court." So if you don't like reading tiny nuggets of my brain in 140 characters or less, you can just move along. And if you don't like hashtags....

Wow, sitting in court is just as exciting today as it was last time! #exceptnot

Already predicting who the DUI boys are. #oneforone


Don't see the fat fuckface yet. Hopefully he comes rolling out in orange.

Um, wow. These chicks need to learn how to walk in heels, for reals, yo. #clunkclunkSLAM #clunkclunkSLAM

Lusting after the Starbucks drink I left in the car.

If anyone in this courtroom reads the notes I'm taking, they will be highly disturbed. #HIGHLY

Traffic court can blow me. Bring on the theives and murderers! At least they're interesting...

Oh no! I'm having a Shim dilema...

Public defender keeps looking at me with judgy eyes. I'm not a criminal, swearsies. #judgymcjudgerson

I just noticed my boobs look fricking awesome today. I keep sneaking a peek at myself.

The District Attorney looks like someone off of PBS.

The boy next to me is making his mom laugh hysterically. Highly doubting my mother would have reacted the same way. #mommymonster

Oh shit. There really is someone being tried for murder here.

Oh, you have got to be kidding me. Shim's name is Erin/Aaron.

An old person is charged with bad driving. Are we supposed to be surprised?

It's pretty sad when they have to mention facebook, twitter, and myspace (wtf? myspace?) in court during sentencing.

One lawyer seems to be a pretty funny guy. #theydoexist

I wonder how many people are curious about what I'm writing. Little do they know, it's about boobs and periods. #classy #classyasshit

This "writing hash tags in real life" thing has to stop. #ordoesit

So bored. New goal:  Make awkward eye contact with the lawyers as often as possible. No looking away when they glance at me. #yesiAMstaringatyou

People probably think I'm all studious and shit. #ha #hahaha

Also, I was going to record my three dogs playing last night to show y'all, but then I kind of fell asleep while the camera was charging because I'm apparently a little old woman who can't stay up past 8. And I went on a Skype date last weekend with my blogging soulmate, Lorraine. There was an awful lot of giggling involved. We originally intended to work on another collaboration like that time we talked about our BOOBS, but we just ended up making fun of people the entire time. I'm pretty sure we were chatting for at least two hours, and I was drinking during the chatting so you know what that led to, right? *creepy eyebrow wiggle*

Skype dating is fun and nerve-wracking and I think I'll write an entire post on it soon, which means...... I need to Skype with more people. Let's go on a date!

Monday, February 14, 2011

A Letter On Valentine's Day

Now that we carpool to work, we're together every moment that we aren't at work. Some people would get tired of being around another person that much. Personally, I think it's awesome. When we first started dating, I wanted to be around you all the time. I wanted to eat together, sleep together, watch TV together, shower together. I was terrified that you would think I was a clingy crazy girl. But you liked being together that often, too. So it turns out we're both clingy crazy girls. I'm okay with that.

I like that we can make each other laugh. I appreciate that you never fake it, even if it sometimes means I have to deal with crickets after a super bomb ass joke that you're just too lame to understand. Even though it's a dick move, I actually think it's kind of endearing when you say, "That joke wasn't funny, Sara. Try again."

We should probably be professional high fivers with how good we've gotten recently. When your sister and my best friend were showing off their high fiving skillz, we immediately realized that we had to step up our game. I'm glad we read that "tip" in Cosmo on how to give the perfect high five. We totally showed them up. I hope that we go through the rest of our lives trying to show other people's high fives up. New life goal, noted.

Sometimes I'm a really shitty listener. What can I say? I like the sound of my own voice a little too much sometimes. I'm sorry for all the times I've cut you off or interrupted you or talked over you. I blame being the youngest of four children for that personality trait. If you wanted to get anything in, you had to interrupt and talk over people. Blame my mother for having so many damn babies.

Sometimes I overreact like a psycho bananas lady. That usually involves me turning green and ripping my clothes off in a totally not-sexy-at-all kind of way while I RAAWWRRRR into a speech about why life isn't fair and how hard I have it. Luckily, you've learned to sit quietly and wait for me to finish. That seems to work best. (Maybe you could explain this idea to my family? I've known them for 22 years, and they still haven't figured it out.)

Sometimes I get mad at you for silly things like leaving your socks on the living room floor or not letting me stop for Starbucks on the way to work. I stand by those. You jerk.

You asked my parents for my hand in marriage, and I think that's possibly the most adorable thing you've ever done. (Especially considering my mother is scary as all hell.) You looked a little terrified when you sat down on the couch and asked me to put my phone down for a moment. I don't know if you noticed, but I never put my phone down. I was frozen in fear because your tone was scaring the shit out of me. I didn't realize that it was only because you were scared, too. I don't even remember all of what you said because I was so busy going through a list in my head of all the things I might have done to piss you off recently. (The list is long. It took a while to get through.)

I do, however, remember you saying that I'm your best friend and you wanted to spend the rest of your life with me. I remember attacking you with a hug, forgetting to even put the ring on. After finally putting the ring on and getting to look at it, you got upset because in all the excitement, you forgot to get down on one knee. You asked me to give the ring back, so you could do it again. "Are you kidding? You can't have this back. You just gave it to me! It's mine!" I told you.

It amazed me that you picked out the ring all by yourself. You and I both know that you are forbidden from ever buying me clothing because you're kind of awful at knowing my taste. But my ring? It's exactly what I always imagined. It's exactly what I would have picked out for myself. I'm not sure if it's the ring itself or the fact that I know you spotted this ring and immediately thought of me.

When we first moved in together, there was fighting. Lots of "Why can't you just pick up after yourself?!" and "Money issues blah blah adult boring fight stuff!" and "Haven't you realized I'm insane by this point??" It was like we decided to be at war with each other for no fucking reason. It was like that for a few months, while we got used to living with a significant other for the first time, for realsies, like grown ups.

Then it just stopped. After one major blow out, it ended and it hasn't happened since. We decided right then that fighting wasn't worth not being together. Coming that close to losing each other made us realize that we needed to change. And we did. Sure, we still get snarky and grouchy and short with each other. But there aren't any Nintendo Wiis being thrown out in the front yard now, are there? (Ahem. Stopjudgingme.)

I've discovered that we can still fight, in a good way. Rather than fight with each other, we now fight together against the stupid Universe, always trying to fuck up our days. Instead of yelling at you, I yell at God and the Universe and the World, and you yell with me. We tell each other how right we are, how unfair life is, how much the Universe sucks, and then we move on. Being a team is a hell of a lot easier than being opponents. Go figure, right?

I like that we're not your typical couple. I like that going on a date with you still gives me butterflies. I like that we can make fun of slutty girls and douchebags in bars together. I like that we get excited when we're planning our wedding. I like that you recommended "Back That Ass Up" for our first dance. You make me laugh. You make me feel silly and fun and giggly and dorky and loved, all without leaving me a million facebook wall posts saying, "I luv u so much babii." (Real men don't use Facebook, right?)

Happy Valentine's Day.

Sara (insert soon-to-be new last name here)


Wednesday, February 9, 2011

Karaoke Ring of Death: Anti-Love/Love Edition

You know what time it is...... Karaoke Ring of Death time! Karaoke Ring of Death is a monthly karaoke event that I organize, and a new theme is chosen each month. Naturally, our theme for February is love or anti-love songs, which left the choices wide open.

I'm told all the fucking time that I look like Katy Perry, so I decided to go for it and sing a Katy Perry song. "Ur So Gay" is probably considered anti-love, right? To check out my drunk 5 AM singing, go to Lara's blog, cLARAfications, which is also one of the funniest blogs I've ever read in my entire life. Her blog makes me giggle at my desk, and she also sends me youtube videos of adorable puppies that make my ovaries cut the brakes in a convertible, drive off the side of a bridge, and die in a fiery explosion. That bitch.

You don't want to miss out on this, do you?

And here on my blog, I'll be hosting Miss B from Creative Cacophony. Miss B is one of my 20sb chat buddies, so I'm excited to have her on my blog. (That last bit sounded super dirty, right?) She did a love and an anti-love song because she's an overachiever and also because she sings way better than a lot of us which means she's a lot less embarrassed than those of us who did our karaoke videos with absolutely no voice because we fucking love you bitches. Ahem. Anyways, here's her anti-love song. Miss B suggests you watch this video with the drink of your choice in hand.

If you want to see Miss B singing "Suzie Q", head on over to YouTube and check it out. There's also some adorable dancing involved.

We have our biggest group yet this time around! So click around and come back later to see the Master Linkity List of all the karaokers, which will be updated through the day. And if you want to participate, send me an email. I even made a cute little button for participants to put on their blog.

Erin with Wonderwall
Stephanie with She Fucking Hates Me / I Will Survive
Lorn with Grow Old With You
Cassie with Don't Want to Miss a Thing
Alexandra with Didn't I Tell You
Tabs with Lay Me Down
Kandace with Right Kind of Wrong
Me with Ur So Gay
Lara with Love Stinks
Harley with Galway Girl
Ginny with Love Me Dead
Daniella with Fairytale
Amanda with Wicked Game
Coyote Rose with These Boots Are Made For Walking
Kit Marsden with Pure Narcotic
Lost with If You're Into It
Rio with I'm Yours / Grenade
Matt with Drug Kids Past & Present (which he wrote!!)
Jes with I Touch Myself (rawr)
Nugs with Special
Allie with Fuck You (Cee-Lo Green)
Shelly with My Heart Will Go On
Mandy Moore with I Can't Help Falling in Love
Bianca with Kick Drum
Ash with Love Song
Jimmie with Cosmic Love
Lorraine with Breaking Up (Trust me, it's worth the wait!)

I Should Probably Be a Professional Handwriter

The memes are going around like crazy lately, and I, of course, lurve it. Who doesn't like talking about themselves 24/7? So it's basically just answering a few questions on a piece of paper so y'all can see my amazing, beautiful handwriting. Here are the questions:

1. What's your name / blogger name?
2. What's your blog's URL?
3. Write "The quick fox jumps over the lazy dog."
4. Favorite quote?
5. Your favorite song?
6. Your favorite band / singers?
7. Anything else you want to say?
8. Tag 3 - 5 other people.

Tomorrow is karaoke day! The happiest day of the month! Don't forget to tune in.... or else. Oh, and if you missed Andy doing a vlog with me, you must check it out.

Tuesday, February 8, 2011

Andy Agreed to be in a Vlog, and I'm Pretty Sure I Owe Him a Blow Jay Now

I've seen these accent vlog memes floating around the Internet, and I decided I needed to be a follower and join along. See Kate's here, Lorraine's here, Alexandra's here, and Harley's here.

And guess what, y'all???




(Sorry in advance for all the giggling. It was a long day.)

(Also, I didn't edit it at all because I'm super lazy.)

(Oh, and also, Penny Lane is squeaking her toy through a huge chunk of the video. I'm pretty sure that noise is slowly driving me insane.)

(Also, the thing at the end is in reference to Miley Cyrus, y'all.)