Monday, May 31, 2010
So there I was, on facebook minding my own business (ha!), and BAM. You know what you did. You posted a very inappropriate image on your profile. Your sonogram.
Gross. Ew. Gross.
I turn 27 tomorrow and lots of my "friends" out there are procreating, not that there's anything wrong with that, but do you need to lose your common sense in the process? You're posting a picture of the inside of your UTERUS for all to see.
And that baby that's growing inside there - no matter how many people "like" your picture or comment "how cute!", they're lying. That baby looks like an alien baby bird right now... that's why it's on the inside. Mother Nature is smart enough to keep that baby and all it's tissue, organs, fluid tucked nicely inside that cute little pouch of yours so that people still like you while you're all hormonal and annoying. Just keep in mind the concept of TMI.
Another "friend" wrote something about how she can't believe how much she has to pee. Seriously, that was her status. How about you think about your pregnancy as any other medical condition. Although some people do share the details of their experiences while having the flu, it's generally frowned upon. No one cares about the frequency of your urination except you, your doctor, perhaps your baby daddy, and other pregnant people like you. So, I don't know... like talk amongst yourselves.
It's not like I expect you to censor your facebook for me personally. I, of course, have defriended you or hidden you from my newsfeed, but just think about the identity you're putting out there. And remember the person you were before you got knocked up. You didn't like to see sonograms then, did you? Probs not.
Pictures while you're pregnant, like from your baby shower, totally OK. We like to see how fat you got and whether you're cute pregnant or ugly pregnant. Birthday parties and other milestones your child goes through are also ok, because most little kids are cute and often times it's hysterical to see you in charge of a child when the most important thing in your life used to be whether you were next up on the beer pong table.
Friday, May 28, 2010
"There is nothing wrong with America that cannot be cured by what is right with America." - William Jefferson 'Bill' Clinton
Memorial Day means a lot of different things to a lot of different people. For high schoolers, it means that summer break is just around the corner and so is the sweet taste of freedom (too bad the kids will still be in class until we celebrate America's birthday because of the Snowpocolypse). For many young professionals in the DMV, Memorial Day means sitting in seven hours of traffic so that they can blow their hard earned paychecks on sweet tea vodka and STD medication in the hook-up haven that is Dewey 'Beach.' Parents, young children, all have different ides of what Memorial Day means; but there are several facts about Memorial Day that transcend these aged-defined mental images - pools are open and we should be thankful for those who have fought for our freedom and our Country.
In this vain I will attempt to recreate a conversation that I had with B about a week ago regarding her current forms of personal identification.
b: I think that I'm going to get a Texas driver's license, they won't let you buy alcohol at HEB with a Virginia state license.
s: WHAT, that's completely unacceptable.
b: I know, on top of that, they gave me a hard time at the liquor store and basically said they would let it go this time but that I needed to get a Texas ID.
s: Well that's just ridiculous. You know my sister tried to use her passport to buy beer at HEB and they denied her which is just unacceptable. A passport is an AMERICAN identification. This is not the United States of Texas, this is the United States of AMERICA. Next time you get into a situation (hahaha 'situation'), you just throw around the word America as much as you can.
So everyone, on this glorious 'state required work furlough so that it's a four-day weekend,' let us all remember why we get to do the ridiculous things that we Americans like to do like take pole dancing classes, drive gas guzzling SUVs and eat processed foods; it's because of the people that have chosen to put their lives on the line for us. So break out the spray tans and slice up the limes because summertime is here bitches.
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
me: HA. GTTL (name changed to protect the guilty, stands for "Gym, Tan, Toast, Laundry") just sent me an email asking me and X to pay them $59 for water. lol
Serena: she done lost her fucking mind
me: it's ok
me: it needed it for the right effect
Serena: um yes. she friended missy miss on FB. I'm like..
YOU'RE CRAZY GTTL!
YOU'RE NOT FRIENDS
me: it's like the moment she learns someone's name she friends them
Serena: she is COO COO CACHOO
[Break in convo; referring to seeing GTTL at a bar]
Serena: damn tequila! throwing me off my game
all I could make out was... DON'T TALK TO THAT STUPID BITCH
Serena: I kept going up to whoever she was talking to
and being like DON'T TALK TO THIS SKANK
Serena: cruise messaged me saying he was sorry for being so drunk
and i was like um no need to apologize to me. i said sorry for yelling at him to stop talking to GTTL. he goes 'who is GTTL'
I LOST it
Serena: he said 'she must not be that memorable'. I was like, oh cruise i want to make out with you
me: just memorable in a trainwreck sort of way
Serena: she looks like a type of rodent
me: like oh remember when you saw that horrible thing.
me: let me forward you this email. her grammar alone is disturbing. so poor.
Serena: I mean does she really think that you're going to give her money? also, um there is zippy chance that she did all that math right. does she live in an alternate universe? I wish I was coming down there this weekend.
Serena: too bad I'm pretty sure I have a sinus infection
just don't write her back. like EVER. or write...
I have a concern. a concern that you are allowed to walk among normal, intelligent lifeforms on a day to day basis. a concern that you might actually be the first person on the planet to turn yourself into human jerky with the amount of UV exposure you allow yourself to consume.