This weekend I went to CANADA!

I saw Niagara Falls, ate a Tim Horton’s donut, and bought checkered long johns with a workable buttflap.

If you’re afraid of heights and/or horrible naturally-occurring deathtraps, then I don’t advise going to the falls. I also REALLY don’t advise going to tourist attraction, “Journey Behind the Falls.”

In Journey Behind the Falls you pay $20 to stand in a 98 degree holding cell underground for an hour and then get smooshed into an elevator with 10 other people and plunge 70ft below the earth. Then you step out of the elevator (in your sweaty plastic bright yellow poncho) and into the warm inviting stench of diarrhea. You’re supposed to wander around underground tunnels, literally behind and under the falls. It’s dark and the sound is deafening like in the Titanic when the whole joint was blowing up and water was busting out everywhere.  We lasted about 3 minutes until we ran to the equally as horrifying elevator. I’m sure there’s a nice tourist somewhere admiring their family vacation photos and spotting a young girl in the background ralfing into the water right behind Nana.

To ease the pain and redeem our marshmallow girl status, we returned back to the surface and as I mentioned, bought buttflap pajamas. Everything was right again.

It was a great experience to see how quickly mother nature could crunch you into oblivion. I ended up researching morbid things like “deaths at Niagara Falls” and “why does it smell like diarrhea at Niagara Falls.” To be continued.

In another surprising discovery about the world, I found out that you can turn your roaming features off on your phone without turning off your data. You’ll know you’ve done it right when an hour later you receive a courtesy text from AT&T stating that you’ve have exceeded the $100 mark in international rate charges. I’m guessing my bill is anywhere from $101 to $6,000. And to think I had OKCupid open the whole time and I didn’t even talk to any hunks.

Alright kittens, don’t go meandering off the sides of any monstrous water attractions.

I love you, sleep tight, kiss your Nana(s) and your Gigapets goodnight.

A Concerned Inner Discussion I Had with Myself Earlier Today

I don’t want to sleep when I’m dead. What if I don’t have the option? That saying is bullcrap. I’m certain I can sleep now on earth but what if I can’t sleep in Heaven? Then I just WASTED my sleep opportunity. GONE.

What if it doesn’t even matter up there? WHAT IF IT’S NOT AN OPTION AT ALL?!

And if there is no afterlife at all, then EVERYTHING.IS.RUINED! How could we be so presumptuous? How can we even begin to deprive ourselves of laying our sweet little heads onto our hypoallergenic pillows and gently drifting to a place where we can roller skate naked on an airplane with no consequences except maybe we totally forgot about the midterm exam we have to take and need to jump off the airplane ASAP.

What are your thoughts? TELL ME. I’m going to sleep because I am taking advantage of this gift and also this NyQuil that’s thinning my blood.

K love you, hope you dream about doughnuts and lots of hunky men or women.


Blog Challenge Day 3


I posted it a while back, but I got a fortune cookie and the fortune read:

“If you want to win anything-a race, your self, your life-you have to go a little berserk.”

Google told me it was a quote from George Sheehan (author, running enthusiast, physician).

I don’t know if it is but regardless it’s still the greatest fortune I’ve ever received.

Crystals and Toe-Sucking

Hey guys, I might be a witch.

Lately I’ve been reading up on crystals and gemstones and their benefits. I have a piece of citrine, an emerald, and a little lapis lazuli (any Gilgamesh fans?).

I carry them around as lucky charms but I also read that keeping certain ones under your pillow will help you have happier dreams when you sleep.

WELL my friends, I did not put my crystals under my pillow last night and I had some pretty fucked up dreams. One of them included sucking the toes (which nails were painted blackish-purple) of a kid I used to like a few years back. There was lots of drag queens, Goldfish crackers, rainbow escalators, and a nighttime pool party.

It sounds traumatizing but I woke up laughing so I’m hoping I haven’t completely become unhinged. Although, I’m not sure if laughing means I am crazy or just understanding of the absurdity.

Judging by the titles of my last few posts, I guess it might be the former.

In other news, I am seeing a psychic this weekend!

It was either that or a therapist and the psychic was cheaper.

And they are usually better at telling people what to do.

Me make a decision for myself? Puh! Unless it’s food or clothing, I’ll take all the advice I can get.

Or this blog. This thing is stream of consciousness. I pick a topic and wipe my ass with it and see how you darling pooptarts like it.

I’m not going to put the crystals under my pillow again tonight and see if anything else kooky happens.

Until next time my Scruvy Fully Bloateds!

Will Sasso Giggled

Little things make me extremely happy.

I don’t really tweet to celebrities a lot but I love the Ten Minute Podcast with Bryan Callen, Chris D’Elia, and Will Sasso. The other day they asked their female audience to “Ask Shawna,” the queen of urban comedy, (and one of the many hysterical characters Will does) life advice questions.

I tweeted a question and, to my surprise, Bryan read it on air. AND WILL SASSO GIGGLED AT IT. 

A small thing, but it really made my week. 

Check the 2:55 mark!

 “LoloVonK” is me, only it’s pronounced Lolo Von K. (LoloKirby was taken).



I had to share that before I burst.

Until next time, kittens. 

“No Thanks”

A rejected list! Not very original but it still makes me chortle.


Ungrateful Bitch (Other Things Bruno Mars Would Do For You)

Eat a pinecone for you.

Try not to gag when he looks at your mangled toes for you.

Pretend not to see that giant booger hanging out for your nose for you.

Delouse your ferrets for you.

Ignore that disgusting birthmark on your chin for you.

Inhale your pungent sausage pizza farts for you.

Pretend to enjoy Kim and Khloe Take Papua New Guinea for you.

Grin and bear 45 minutes of being in your mother’s presence for you.

Pretend he didn’t see that text from your ex-boyfriend for you.

Forget that he gave up grad school to watch your miniature chi-weenie full time while you tried to “find yourself” at community college, for you.


“Too Snarky”

Another rejected list. I still stand by everything.


How to Lose a Guy in 10 Seconds (or Less!)

Only wear mahogany colored lip liner.

Show him your Taylor Swift quote tattoo.

List all 46 reasons why you don’t believe in flossing.

Mention how that smoked sausage you ate earlier is really doing a number on you.

Be sure to show him your “Wedding Ideas!!” Pinterest board.

Pajama Problems

I found these puppies yesterday, courtesy of Target. I haven’t decided what I’m going to name them yet, so if you have any suggestions feel free to comment (Note: If you submit “Foxy” or “Vixy” this blog isn’t for you).

Anyhoo, I noticed some problems with these onesie/footie pajamas, and I’d like the share them with you so you can avoid any onesie/footie pajama incidents.

1) Be Careful Eating Muffins: You never know when a rogue crumb is going to fall down your sleeve and end up trapped underneath your foot. This is why I proposed the idea of zippable feet openings for proper ventilation and trapped food release.

2) Be Careful of Toilets: If you’re like me, you choose to let nothing come between your baby skin and your fleece pajamas. This comes at a price, however. I unzipped my onesie and used the ladies room, but to my horror, my sleeve got sucked down the toilet. After much scrubbing with Dial soap and blowdrying with a 30 year old Conair, I am lead to my next tip…

3) Be Careful of the Ponch: Or as some charmers refer it to as a word that starts with “f” and rhymes with “shmoopah.” Waiting for the rest of my sleeve to dry, I tied the top half of the onesie around my wait. Footed pants should be a staple in everyone’s wardrobe but be careful ladies! It makes the mid-section a unflattering nod to the 2nd trimester.

So there you have it. Be sure to warn any of your loved ones who are thinking of purchasing a onesie/footie pajama set. (Or using the bathroom or going to the 90’s). Many blessed onesie nights to you!