FLASH POST! Driving Blind.

Quick post so I can go nappy-bye.

My frequent readers know that most my days are weird because I have my freak flag stapled to my chest BUT today had an extra sprinkle of “hmm…how unusual.”

I woke up in a shit mood because I had love dreams and I woke up and didn’t have a love reality. I didn’t feel so hot between a headache and my morning acid reflux so I threw back some alka seltzer and made a coffee (I’m REALLY GREAT at balancing acids and anti-acids!). I don’t remember getting dressed but I was in my car, peeling out on some wet leaves, burping up some hot remains of whatever acid I ate before bed.

It was rainy while I was driving to work so I had my new windshield wipers swishing. SWISH swish SWISH swish SWISH swish SWICCRRRRKKKKKKKKKKKKK.

My driver’s side windshield wipe cracked off and the jagged metal remains propelled it off into the road and under my back tire. GuhBUMbum.

I could see the car behind me crunching it under their tire. Cya later windshield wiper! RIP! Have a nice life! Drop me a line!

It was raining pretty heavily so I couldn’t stick my head out the driver’s side window. That and it’d get ripped off by the renegade MBTA buses they have Tokyo drifting in the streets. I’m pretty hunchy as it is (did I tell you a potential suitor asked if I had scoliosis? HE THOUGHT I HAD SCOLIOSIS) so I craned my neck to the passengers side.

I was in panic mode until I got to work, when I burst out laughing at the absurdity of annihilating my own new windshield wiper. Pulverized. Crunched to smithereens. Swish Swish Swish CLUNK annnndd there she gooooes goooodbyyyyeee!

Thankfully, I had my old wipers in the trunk in case of emergency. I spent 45 minutes searching YouTube for videos until I just read the (5) steps in the instruction manual- 3 of which include making sure you shut your car off before you run yourself over.

I changed it, crisis averted, christ has risen or something.

It was horrifying not being able to see or even pull the car over. That being said I’m really sorry if your pet cat, dog, or maybe even your husband don’t return home tonight, I forgot to check my wheel wells. My panic mode shuts down my peripheral vision and I’m pretty sure I was chanting something in Sanskrit. But I’m ALIVE and changed my own wiper because I’m big and strong.

OKAY! Flash post over. Thank you for reading.

k love you byyyee why do you always smell like bread?

You’re a Big Yatch

Oh, my dear little bloggerinos. How are you?

I just got back from NEW YORK CITY the other day and I’ve been laying around ever since. I walked 10 miles in one day in my big combat boots so now I don’t have feet anymore. Buuuuut I DO have a rash on my eyelids! I bought Nana Creme (Gold Bond) and have been smearing it across my eyes. I somehow did not expect it to burn. I imagine it’s what putting peppermint toothpaste on your eyelids would feel like. Très great.

In other news, I swapped cars with my mom so now I’m driving the yacht, or as the layperson would call it, “a Subaru.” I also just spelt yacht “y-a-t-c-h.” YATCH. Sounds like an insult or some kind of vaginal infection.

It’s fun blowing out the speakers on a car that isn’t yours. I listened to Miley Cyrus’ “Bottom of the Ocean” about 50 times. After the 4th or 5th time I forgot I was singing it and would zone in and out and start wondering if I was singing that whole time. After the 15th or 20th time I started messing up the words because it all starts to blend together. WHICH PART OF THE SONG AM I AT? WHAT SONG IS THIS? SHOULD I BE OPERATING A MOTOR VEHICLE?

Anyways, I bought another Oprah magazine ANNND I forgot I get Oprah Radio so I’m ready to let the healing begin. I’m also ready to let the sweepstakes entries pile up. LET ME WIN, BABY JEESUHZ! Or just let me win baby Jesus! I’ll brush his hair and feed him hay. Cuz that’s what babies like.

Okay my little key lime pie crusts, GOODNIGHT! I LOVE YOU! TELL GRANDPA YOU LOVE HOW HOT HIS FEET GET IN HIS LOAFERS!

Crunchy the Car

There were a few days there that I didn’t post, eh?

If you MUST know (yeesh, get off my back already), I was in a car accident the other day.

Nothing major but it was one of those moments much like finishing school forever,  or getting dumped, or death of a someone you know. Just an Ooh. So this is what this is like. Hmm. Proverbial check mark made.

Now that I’ve self medicated with leftover* Halloween candy (*candy I bought for myself while I sat at home with the lights off) I’m ready to talk about it without feeling like the girl who cashes in on all her terrible experiences. Although if I could get cash to talk about my terrible experiences I would promptly send you my bank number.

Because I am a sick person, I cackled during most of it while the other driver sobbed. Maybe because it was her fault and I haven’t had the ability to cry since 2008 but hey I can’t pinpoint with all these variables.

The abridged version is I was dressed in a tight as fuck, spandex, Deadpool costume heading to an 80s dance party (held on a boat). My friend was desperately trying to change into her Jessica Rabbit costume in the back seat (all parties except for the boat were wearing their seat belts, don’t fret).

A few cars ahead of me, a car had its tire hanging off, hazards on, nothing happening. The girl in front of me sat for 5 minutes until the honking started. Did I mention we were at a 4-way intersection during rush-hour in Boston? That was a thing too. Anyways, the girl backed up into the intersection so she would have enough room to go around Mr. Brokeydown. She had enough room. Then not so much. Then none. Then OH GOD NONE NO ROOM NONE. I beeped just to let her know that she hit me (not a big deal, it was tap). Unfortunately, the beeping scared her and she stepped on the gas and careened backwards. Crunch, crunch, crunch. She straightened her self out, put it in drive and we were able to find a space where we could both pull over.

She came bombing out of her car (in her jammies) with tears streaming down her face. She was so concerned about my well being I started cracking up and ended up consoling her. I remember that teenage fear of what…have I done…WHERE IS MY MOM, PLEASE HELP.

I hope her parents let her take the day off of school the next day.

It’s all I could think about the next day. Close calls always jolt you back into the reality that anything could happen at any time. That’s also the beauty of it. Anything could happen at anytime. Let’s just hope it’s good, like being able to stand on the side of the road in your Deadpool costume telling a stranger you are 25 and have no idea who your car insurance provider is even though you pay the $130 bill every month.

C’est la via, ammiright?

We ended up skipping the boat party. Our adrenaline was through the roof that I might have just driven straight into the harbor and wouldn’t have noticed the difference.

***

I hope everyone had a cavity inducing Halloween. What did you dress up as? Did your costume give you a rash? I want details.

k love you.

L.L. Bean has nice boots.

Don’t Cry

DON’T CRY.

DON’T CRY.

DON’T CRY.

My inner monologue has been pretty dramatic lately.

I’ve been working a lot and trying to put more time and effort into my dreeEeaaAaams!

It’s been a very exhausting experience, but very fulfilling even if I’ve only been taking wittle itty bitty baby scabies steps.

ANOTHER huge time consumer has been that I’M MOVING!! (fireworks explode in the air)

I decided to tell my boss of 5 years that I will be moving in the spring time.

I had to go change my diaper after. I didn’t really think about it. I just started shouting across the office that I had an announcement to make and the words just kept falling out of my mouth like Gracie Lou Freebush drinking homemade hot chocolate. (Didja get that reference? Eh? EH?!)

I don’t think I handled it as professionally as I could have, but it was one of those situations that just sort of happened because my big dumb ice cream eating mouth doesn’t like holding secrets even if they are non-secrets like giving your boss 2 months notice because you like to keep the communication wide open like your big dumb ice cream eating mouth. Have I revealed to much about myself?

Okay, I love you, bye.

I’m an Asshole

Image

Fake Face, Day 30

Hey Kling-dongs. 

That’s my new brand of plastic wrap with cartoon dicks all over it. To be used to cover the left over deviled eggs at your bachelorette party. 

Do people like deviled eggs? They seem like a staple at family parties. You see them arrive in their special little caddy but you never actually see people eating them. BUT, the mystery–there are never any left over because Uncle Marty throws his hands in the air and goes “awww who ate all the deviled eggs?!” and everyone laughs, except for Aunt Edy because she and Uncle Marty had a falling out years ago, in which Marty forgot about, but Edy still shoots stingy remarks about Marty under her breath to any female relative in near proximity. No one likes Edy, she should just let it go. 

But I digress. 

DAY 30.

BLOG CHALLENGE.

QUESTION: What’s in your makeup bag? (revs blow torch, lowers mask)

As a person who dumps more money into Sephora than should be legally allowed, you’d think I’d be able to talk about all the super great things I have in my 5 different makeup bags that turn me from 8 year-old boy to 40-something drag superstar. But alas, I’m still trying to pull off  the “She’s All That” look before she actually turns “All That.”

So why do you need 3 different gold eyeliners for all those New Year’s parties you’re not going to? BECAUSE.

What about this $50 smokey eye palette? I NEEDED it and Pinterest gave me a vague idea of how to use it, so leave me alone I just want to rock the two black eyes that gorilla gave me when he punched me at the zoo. 

I enjoy makeup, but anything above “you don’t look completely dead” makes me feel like a clown. Everything in moderation. Except for things with sugar in them. You can have extra of that. 

Anyways, new topic, I have half an episode left of the X-Files and the last movie before that chapter of my life comes to a close. It’s bittersweet because X-Files was a crutch for me, BUT I mentioned that I would be starting some new (relative term) shows like Twin Peaks, The Sopranos, The Wire, etc. AND GUESS WHAT? I got a request from a lo-lite (my nickname for anyone who has ever enjoyed any of my humor in any capacity) to live-tweet my thoughts on Twin Peaks. The idea that anyone would want my opinion or reaction to anything is extraordinarily flattering. SO THANK YOU!

ONE MORE DAY LEFT OF THE BLOG CHALLENGE! 

Lolo signing off.

Until next time, my Quispy Queens.

Blue Like Me

I dyed my hair.

I used henna with indigo so it would turn my crispy, blonde, fried highlights back to black.

Needless to say, I’m a renegade and didn’t use any gloves. Buuut I Eiffel 65’d my hands

(I’m blue da ba dee da ba DYE).

Get it? ….GET IT?

*crickets*

I might as well just smashed up some smurfs, blueberries, and Blue Man Group balls, with my bare hands.

I didn’t think it would be a big deal, but search results for removal yielded phrases like “a couple of months” and “good luck, asshole.”

Oh well. It’s faded enough that it almost looks like I have a horrible disease sucking the life out of my hands yet leaving me with a fabulous helmet of shiny hair.

Anyways, I hope everyone is having a darling Tuesday.

Until next time, my Chicken Mc-Fug-Lets.