Those Quads Are Now Single? GOAL!!

Best news I've received in 2010 so far?? (Besides about babies, relax)

LANDON DONOVAN FINALLY FILED FOR DIVORCE!! I mean, they have only been separated for over a year. No time like the present. Now that we'll be able to go public with our love, I hope he stops banging English chicks when on loan to Everton. Also, he should probably cover up that stupid humming bird tat with my face asap as it signifies monogamy and we know he could and did not live up to that ideal (as no man alive can).

I'm also hoping he didn't finally pull this trigger because he has other tail waiting on the sidelines. We all know how men love to juggle. I've got a few flaming batons in the air myself, so I'm not TOO mad at Lannycakes, but enough is enough. I think we should finally stop loaning each other out to foreign clubs, commit to one team (the team of love, duh), and start practicing our epic righty twine snipe celli into the future together.

Before I run home to start packing my shit to move back to LA, here's a little photo tribute to the only man with a receding hairline and brown eyes that I could ever possibly love. You're welcome.

Just being super fast, no big deal.

Scoring the most American goal ever.

"fffffffuck yes, I'll live in sin with you forever!"

Shirtless All-Star

If there's something dreamier than him on the beach in a white T...

"Deuces ladies, I'm a one loud-mouthed Irish girl kinda guy now."

"Maybe you should come snuggle..."

Pet Me, Please

I doubt I will be blogging again before Christmas so I wanted to give everyone a big dose of Holiday cheer in the form of a little fuzzy animal wearing a Santa hat. Fuck, bunnies are so cute they make me want to scream!!!

Happy Holidays!!!!

"Please remove this hat from my head... it's humiliating."

You In Weeks, Me In Years

Hello Your Royal Duckness,


What up? I mean, aside for your parents being total maniacs and all.


Your father sent me a few pilots for reference to write my own. Or, his assistant sent them to me. She's very nice and I hope she tolerates your Dad long enough to meet you. I then sent him the gift that keeps on giving. The link to http://dadsonvacation.tumblr.com/ . He then gave me the ALL CAPS treatment in a follow up email informing me that I could be writing a TV show with the time I spend on meaningless comedy sites. He's got a point, but I told him to save the yelling for when you're born. Babies need yelled at. As much as he has called me for help with your Mother in the past, I'm sure he will be calling me for help with you and like the Saint I am, I will be there to oblige. In all lower case. He means well.


Your Mother. Ugh, this one. I know it's just me being a worrier, but the woman is terrifying. She. Never. Stops. Moving. I don't know if she's been clued in yet, but as your Uncle T pointed out "Does she know she's growing a person inside her?". I get that she's nesting and all, but jeez. The only thing I can say is she has switched from heels to Reebok EasyTones. A step in the right direction. Last night, I was on the phone with her and she just yelled "Someone's at my door, I have to go!". Then, about 20 minutes later, I went into crazy panic mode that it was a stranger and they killed her. I texted to make sure this didn't happen and she informed me it was just your Christmas tree being delivered so.... I'm actually not sure who is more psycho at this point, your Mom or me. I may need anti-anxiety meds when it gets closer to your due date. No joke.


You are now 33 weeks baked! You are getting to be a little fatty and very concentrated on gaining weight. As you do, your wrinkled alien skin is going to start turning from red to perfect pink and you'll look less like a monster. (here's to hoping!) You are around 5lbs and 18 inches long! Your Mom recently took a breast feeding class so... good luck with that when you arrive. Ick. After that class, your Dad thought it would be cool to feed her some MSG so they got Chinese food. Your Mom's fortune had one word on it for her to learn in Chinese.... Daughter. If that's not a sign that I'm right and you're a little girl, I don't know what is! Evidence is mounting!

No matter what you are, I can NOT wait to meet you. I wanna smother you with kisses and take 500 pictures of you! I can't wait to battle your Grandpa for time spent holding you! I can't wait to watch your Dad attempt to change your diaper! We are going to have so much fun, little Duckling. So much fun. Get big, Get big, Get big.

Eat you up I love you so,

xoxo me

You Probably Spent Five Bucks On That. You Could Have Just Bought A Pack of Smokes.

Even though it's completely ass cold outside (Not sure what ass cold really is as my car thermometer is so pissed at winter that it refuses to even attempt to tell me the temperature unless it's above 25 degrees anymore), I just stopped in my tracks for about 4 good seconds to stare at something. A sticker on the back of a minivan at my work depicting Calvin of the comic strip Calvin and Hobbes pissing on.... the word Terrorists. I can't decide who or what to attack first over this.

First, I am half tempted to start walking around the building to find the owner of said minivan. Having such a vehicle gives off the idea that you have one or more children that require carting around. Do you think that's a healthy image for them to constantly see when they are inevitably turned around, without seat belts, making obscene gestures at cars driving behind you? Because I assume those are the kind if animals you're raising. And which terrorists? Anarchists? Nationalists? Communists? Emotional? Musical? Nickelback? If you're going to get a pissing Calvin decal, can't it be more specific? They sell THOUSANDS of different ones. You can even make your own online. Not that I like terrorists, in fact I prefer they just be imprisoned or killed. Pissing on them just wastes time violating their human rights. Why not just get an American Flag sticker instead? Or at the very least, a sticker that reads "I Hate Terrorists". Or, (since feedback on my I Hate video blog has been mostly people concerned with me saying that word and also fearing I'm going down a path of anger) maybe one that reads "Terrorists Seriously Bum Me Out". That's a sticker I could totally appreciate. Terrorism is always a bummer. I may even give you a high five in the hall seeing that one. If your hands are clean. Also, if you don't have kids to put in that minivan, feel free to drive it right onto the scale to scrap because it's hideous and makes you look like a pedophile.

Secondly, the guy that came up with this whole sticker in the first place. I really don't feel like this is what Bill Watterson intended Calvin to ever be doing when he drew him. And if this sticker maker was smart enough to patent this ridiculous idea somehow, how filthy RICH is this person? What an asshole. I turned to Google for the answer, but I'm a page one limit kind of girl when researching shit this dumb/infuriating. Plus if I know his name, and I'm SURE it's a man, I may start sending threatening male to their giant residence out of jealousy. If I were the inventor of such a fucking ridiculous sticker, you bet your sweet ASS I would be on page one of Google letting everyone know this is where my fortune originated. Plus, I would have pissing Calvin stickers on all of my Range Rovers depicting him urinating on stuff like "Regular Jobs", "Hard, Honest Work", "Being Poor". The real inventor is probably too busy tinkering with this fleet of Sea Doos (because that's what I imagine someone this jerkish would buy with his money) in Key West to care whether anyone knows his identity or not. Asshole.

Lastly, I would put a gallery of some of the truly maddening Calvin pissing stickers I have viewed on Google images here, but that's just buying more meth foils for it's evil genius inventor so I will leave you with a hilarious article from The Onion regarding the subject and a fabulous cartoon from Toothpaste for Dinner which properly expresses my feelings on the matter. If I had just smoked a fat joint. http://www.theonion.com/articles/peeing-calvin-decals-now-recognized-as-vital-chann,386/

This. Is. Bullshit!!

Um... let me get this straight....

Looking at the Kings of Leon website, they don't tour in the United States until mid to late July? And that's not even ON the tour schedule, I'm just guessing they will come back here after Europe. WHAT. THE. FUCK. You release a new CD and then spend the summer touring EUROPE? Europe. Really? Really?!? Because Europe is so free-wheelin' and awesome?!

Just this little thing, this one snag in my Summer "plans" (because if you want to hear God laugh, tell him yours.) has me ALL sorts of pissed off. ALL THE PISSED.

Tosh.0 hate blog coming or a Kevin McArthur rant video coming. Maybe a mash up of the two if you fucks aren't careful. I feel it. Stay tuned.

That Guy In Home Alone Ended Up Reuniting With His Family! Probably Because of His Beard!

In honor of my discovery that my friend Becks has Tucker Max's new book Assholes Finish First, I'm going to do another drunken weekend rundown.

Friday

6:30pm - I had decided it was the week from Hell, I needed to look cute and go have cocktails with my friend (we'll call her Berry for this entry) and the boys at Becks' before they go to CollegeTownUSA to watch some random band they love. I'm not going, I want to take it easy to be ready for Terrific Ladies Night tomorrow.

7:45pm - I am drunk, now going with them and telling Berry she's a shitty friend if she doesn't go with me using lines like "Even Squint is going! He never goes anywhere! Plus, those 2 dudes that just showed up with the sketchy Volcom hoodies and crooked hats freak me out. Don't make me be the only girl!!". This works. She goes. She talks me into eating a piece of pizza first. It is delicious.

9:30pm ish? - We are at a bar I always call "Wood Floor Bar with the bags game". The Cocktail has met up with us and brought some girl that is far too tan for Winter who doesn't like Travis' beard. Tells him that men with beards are lonely. Squint can't stop talking about how trashy the bartender is and that her dress is ridiculous. A guy walks in that seems to know Flick, I say he's the first cute guy I've seen all night. He turns his head and reveals 3 lines shaved in the side of it and a "diamond" earring. Wooops. Squint laughs and points in my horrified face.

10:00pm (let's just put an ish after all times from here on out.) - We are in a brick bar that serves tall boys. There is a band playing in the back room. I tell Flick "Oh, they are pretty good!" and he informs me this isn't the band we're here to watch. Berry sits down on a picnic table to stop partying for the night. I begin to survey the room for someone she can play with to cheer her up.

11:30pm? - Berry is crying? I can't tell as I am drunk enough to have to look through one eye only. I see a nerd dancing and singing to the band. I declare that I should go kiss him. Flick says "I went to high school with him. You would probably be like.. the 4th girl that has EVER kissed him. Do it. You're like a make out fairy". There is a song playing about putting your middle finger in the air. The entire crowd is doing it so I do too. A guy and a girl are making out next to me. I purposely bump into them and laugh. Go to a bathroom stall, you two.

Lights out.

1:30am? - I am in a diner waiting for a cab. Only Squint and Berry are there. I don't know where the other boys are. I become violently hungry and declare that I will punch anyone who steps to me in the face for a cheeseburger. Squint and I order a grilled cheese and he starts videotaping the waitress. She gets pissed and asks him to stop. We laugh at her. There is a kid behind me sitting down with at least 8 pieces of toast. I now start loudly saying "how can someone just sit there with that much toast, see a small girl that's SO hungry, and not offer her any?" Squint walks outside to tell me the name of the diner we are in, walks back in and all he says is "I can't read". Not that he couldn't see the sign, he couldn't read it. We discuss stealing a loaf of bread near by, but I decide it's too well lit in there for that kind of crime. Our grilled cheese arrives the same time as the cab. I make my half disappear while standing on the sidewalk waiting to get in.

Lights out.

Come to: There are 5 of us in the back of this cab. There is some sort of epic negotiation happening using ketchup packets for waffle cut fries. I know there is grabbing and a bit of yelling. I don't recall if I scored any fries. Berry calls us Pilgrims and Indians. Did they negotiate? I feel like the Pilgrims won.

Lights out. I woke up safely in my own bed at 9:30am. I am starving and want to watch The League finale. I do that.

Saturday

I starve to death all morning until Travis gets it together enough to take me to food. He decides to pick up Flick even through my "LEAVE HIM!!" protest. I attempt to eat my burrito bowl in peace watching Scarface, but nooooo. Assholes (Berry and my other friend Twin Set) torture me until I go shopping with them. I go and bitch the entire time in hopes to get dropped off early. This works. They keep shopping. I try to take another nap, but they call or text the entire time. Hate fills my soul.

6:30ish pm - I decide it's time to party the hate away. There is a storm coming, so those assholes decide "maybe we just have a calm Terrific Ladies Night at my house instead." The hate returns. I'm ready to booze and dance. I am sidetracked by a second offer of the day for Chipotle and calm down enough to go with them when they come get me.

7:30 pm - We are in line for food, going to just go to Twin Set's and drink and eat and do make up (for real). I forgot I had arranged to party with my friend Ken Doll. He calls, Twin Set grabs the phone and invites him to TLN. He says he's picking up wine and he'll be there. We take bets on when or if he ever arrives. When we get back to the apartment, I decide to have a shower (and shower beer) in preparation for the evening. While getting my make up done, Ken shows up with wine and a book "in case I get sick of listening to you girls". Impressive.

9:00ish pm - Ken informs us that he has taken some class called "Rest and Relaxation" in college. More commonly known as "How to lie so you can touch girls shoulders and necks once they have had lots of wine". I hope he got an imaginary 4.0. Once my neck is sufficiently "rested and relaxed", Twin Set says she's tired, Berry wants to go home, Sasha and Ken and I decide we're heading to the bar for pool and dancing even though we're wearing sweats and hoodies. Our make up looks great.

11:00ish pm? - I'm housed. We are having a great time playing pool and observing some drunken fool who has been married a month stumble around. Flick and Travis show up still in their ugly sweaters from a party.

Lights out.

1:00am? - I decide it's time to go. I don't know if Sasha has left yet or not, but I flip out on Ken Doll when he says he's going to drive. We leave to walk back to Twin Set's. He pulls an orange plastic construction marker stick out of the ground on the way to fence with me. I run to pull my own out to defend myself. He tries to bring his in to Twin Set's apartment. I grab it and throw it down outside. I search her house for blankets and come up with bath robes. She wakes up when I loom over her bed. She hands me several blankets and apparently shorts though I don't remember asking for them or putting them on. I reach up to put my hair in a ponytail.

Too much wine. Lights totally out.

I think I fell asleep on the big couch, but wake up on the small couch. Twin Set is standing over me telling me to wake up and look at the snow. I hate her. Ken Doll looks like he hates her. Just to get her to stop talking, I agree to run errands with her. I realize about half way through these errands that I am still drunk and have the shakes. By the time I return home, there is nothing to do but shower and lie down. I do both and that's all she wrote.

Best part of the weekend? Becks' fb status update on Saturday morning that read "I refuse to listen to a girl who draws her conclusions from watching Home Alone." - Travis. I am told this refers to the girl on Friday night who said lonely guys grow beards. I laugh and I laugh. Go tan some more, skank. Beards rule.

Elizabeth Smart

I don't normally address serious issues on this blog, but something happened today that definitely warrants a STFD shout out. Elizabeth Smart's kidnapper was found guilty.

I remember being in Los Angeles working on Music Videos and seeing the news break about Elizabeth being taken from her home. It was on CNN every day. I remember so many close calls being reported and speculation that she was still alive even though that seemed a small possibility considering the statistics involving kidnapping victims and their survival rates after the first few days.

I can't even begin to imagine the fear that a shy, quiet, religious, 14 year old girl must have felt being taken and held like that. Then, all the close calls. Hearing people yell your name in the woods searching for you. An actual police officer not lifting the veil you were concealed under. The FBI not following up on a tip regarding your location. Every day... just thinking this is your life now, you'll never see your family again. That heartbreak is beyond my comprehension.

My friends and I were as obsessed with Elizabeth as the rest of the nation at the time she went missing. So many months passed though, and it seemed like she would just fade away. I will never forget the call from my Producer at the time, 9 months after she was taken. "They found her! Alive!" was all she said into the phone and I knew exactly who she meant. I had never met her, her family, or anyone who knew her, but tears of relief rolled down my face.

Maybe it was relief caused by seeing the grief her family was going through on the news and knowing it had ended. Hearing them say "maybe if I hadn't burned dinner and needed to open a window. Maybe if I had locked that kitchen window, my child would be her right now" was excruciating. Maybe it was relief because a 14 year old girl could go on with her life, even if that life had drastically changed, she could go back to playing the harp and go to high school and college. Maybe it was because I remember nightmares when I was little about being separated from my Mom or lost and the absolute fear that strikes you if you feel you are missing and beyond finding. Maybe it was imagining it was my child and not knowing how I would go on with a moment of my life without searching for them, driving around looking for them, doing anything I could to find them. Whatever it was, I don't know that I had ever been more happy for a family as the Smart's that day she came home.

Now, 8 years later, Elizabeth finally sees justice. Just like I can't imagine the fear she must have felt being taken, I struggle to grasp the courage it took her to survive that 9 months of her life and the determination it took to sit in a courtroom with that man and describe the experience with calm clarity so that he would finally be punished. She could have gone on living and let the system handle him however they wanted. She could have been too ashamed to have spoken up and told her story about being raped on a daily basis. She could have lost her cool and broken down or been too afraid to testify. She could have decided to block out all those terrible memories all together. She could have just given up in 2002.

She didn't. And because Elizabeth Smart had the balls to endure the last 8 years like she did, hopefully Brian David Mitchell never sees freedom again. Behind the harp, the blond hair, the big blue eyes and the angel face, Elizabeth Smart is a real fucking badass.

Only Sixteen Days Left, Assholes!!!

Well people. It's that time. I just wanted to put my Christmas list out into the world so everyone knows what they should be spending their money on. Here goes.

1. A new job. One in Chicago that lets me pay rent, keep my car and still afford Forever21 clothing

2. All the Bumble and Bumble Thickening products. My hair obsesh has risen to new heights and since I have a luscious, healthy mane for the first time since I was in 5th grade, I'm taking care of this thing. I may even purchase a weave since half of my friends are now clipping this plastic shit onto their heads.

3. An armpit job. Boobs? No. Nose? Nah. These fat ass armpits have GOT to go.

4. Some sort of season pass to the 2011 Kings of Leon Summer Tour. Now that Dave Matthews Band has decided to take a Summer off, I need a new band to pretend to still be young to. (said pass should probably also come with a fat sack of weed either to smoke or sell for gas money. Stocking stuffer!)

5. Season 1 of The League on DVD. Now, you may want to consult with my roommate on this one because he is the world champion of downloading free shit off the Internet. You could just write on it with a Sharpie. Snazz it up a bit.

6. A digital camera. I should be just passing this on to one of my friends after Flick lost his that I borrowed on the epic trip to Columbus, but I would probably just keep it, then buy him one later when I remember. I'm nice like that.

7. A new TV. Don't get me wrong, I love my old school tube with the built in DVD player in my bedroom, it has served more than it's asked duties, but it's probably time I at least try to slip into the 90's and get a flat screen. A small one will do.

8. A pony. I ask every fucking year and every fucking year, nobody listens. Brown with a white strip on his chest, please.

9. For Duck's Dad to send me some damn writing concepts and for those concepts to flow out of my fingers into a pilot that sells for a trillion dollars. I don't think it's too much to ask.

10. A Roomba that A) Works for once. B) Scares away mice. C) Helps me with my writing. and D) Plays all my favorite music not unlike DJ Roomba as seen on Parks and Rec last season.

If you don't have time to pick any of this good shit up, then CA$H is always accepted! Along with HONOR$, YACHT$, CAR$ and LUXURIE$. If it's good enough for Kenny Powers, it's good enough for my Christmas present.

Thanks friends!

31 Weeks! Don't Ever Embarrass Your Uncle!

Hi Duck!


So.... I spent Thanksgiving with you and your family. In case you missed what was going on outside your Mom's belly, let me just fill you in. I'll go day to day.


Wednesday:


I arrived in late afternoon. The weather was terrible the last hour. Pretty much your whole family assumed I would end up in a ditch. Oh Jerks of little faith. Showed them!


I hung out with you, your Mom, your Aunt and Uncles, your Dad's hair, your Grandparents and your adorable cousin. She was brutally stripped out of my arms the second your Grandpa got home. We went out for dinner and then I agreed to go out on the town with your Uncle E, Uncle M and some cousins.


The night started out slow and steady. Then, in what seemed like an instant, your Uncle M had gone from the voice of reason to the voice screaming "DON'T EMBARRASS ME!!" in my face when I tried to refuse a shot that smelled minty. He also told me that we weren't leaving the bar "until they push us out". Then, when they attempted to do that very thing, he grabs me by the elbow and starts yelling "Let us out of here!" towards the bouncers as we exit the bar. I thought we would never get a cab, but I was wrong. I was wrong because some random drunk guy that your Uncle M knows happens to have an angel of a mother that lives directly around the corner from your Grandparents. She picked us all up, took your Uncle E home first, then dropped Uncle M and I off so we could sneak in the house and attempt to be quiet when I couldn't even successfully remove my own boots. It was a very fun night. Your poor Uncles damn near missed Thanksgiving due to their hangovers.

Thursday: Thanksgiving

We all have Thanksgiving dinner together and it was lovely. I sat next to you. I forgot to say I was thankful for you during speeches, but I'm pretty sure your parents covered it. Plus, I promised Gina Louise Hinkleman (shout out to Mom Cab!!).

We had cocktails and played some Scattergories. At times, it got pretty heated. Especially when your Aunt accused your most likely still drunk Uncle M of directly copying her answers. Everyone was nice and buzzed (I drink Captain now by the way, barf) and about to settle in when your Mom and Aunt decided to go to Old Navy at midnight when it opened. Freaks. I stayed behind and had more cocktails instead.

Friday: Black Friday

I narrowly escape early morning shopping. I got up and got ready with full intentions to go, but luckily, your Mom had mercy on me and said I could stay home and help Uncle M take care of your cousin. He, your Dad and I watched about 6 hours of Seinfeld straight, laughed, and ate some Chipotle. It was heaven. Your cousin got lazy about half way through the morning and slept most of the day. We had pizza and Christmas presents at night and then all hell broke loose when your Mom, Aunt and I wanted to play Eclipse instead of going out. Everyone got their way in the end, I went out with your Uncles, but not before we had one good round in! Your Mom and Aunt voted me "least likely to rush into marriage" on one of the turns. Pretty safe bet, wouldn't you say?

Saturday: Game Day

Big deal. Your Uncle A's last football game of the year. We all packed up and went to the Cities for that. I had to say good bye to your cousin which made me misty and dramatic. The game was so cold that the 3 beers, half bottle of cherry booze, and small bottle of Bailey's I consumed did not even TOUCH my sobriety. Again, ill prepared for the outdoors in Minnesota. The cold didn't matter though once the clock ticked down in the 4th quarter and the Gophers took hold of the Pig. Your Uncle A could NOT have possibly been happier and ran up into the stands to hug us all after the big win. Your Mom was bouncing around on icy bleachers to take pics of the celebration which made your Dad forget about how frozen he was long enough to hang on to her like a human safety harness. He also had an authentic team hat covering his luscious locks so he was practically unrecognizable.

That night we went back and celebrated with lots and lots of cousins. Then you and your Mom were kind enough to DD us to the bar. Always cool to have a pregnant friend around the holidays! Remember that. Sunday is sort of a blur because your Mom was rushing around in scary pregnant lady mode and I had to pack up and leave. Note to you and self: Do not ask about wrapping paper or anything else if your Mom is icing a cake.

You are now 31 weeks! You're pretty big. Somewhere around 15 inches, but that's up for debate. I have your Mom almost convinced you're a girl. Your Dad still calls you "he" but he also calls your little girl cousin that too, so it doesn't really count. We discussed girl names for you just in case.

Well, we spent our first holiday weekend together! Very exciting.... but now I probably won't see you until you're born. Only 2 months away, so not TOO long, but I'm sad I don't get to feel you more and see your Mom get scary big. She is more energetic and beautiful than ever so I'm sure these last 2 months will go smoothly. We'll keep catching up here. Until then, I will miss you very much! Get big, Get big, Get big ok?

Eat you up I love you so xoxo
Me

P.S. Can you email me your Christmas list? Cool, thanks.

Top 5 Dudes I Wanna Do It To. November 2010 Edition

It has been far too long since I have updated my "Top 5 Dudes I Wanna Do It To" list. FAR too long. There have been some real changes. The World Cup is no longer going on so I can focus my thoughts elsewhere besides on international pitch. The NFL is usually a hotbed of ladywood activity for me, but since Tom Brady won't take off that Viggo Mortensen wig and Brett Favre is flashing his junk all around.... I've gone unconventional. Let's take a walk down superboner lane. Starting with Honorable Mention.

Ian Somerhalder

Ian is hot. GREAT eyes, good dialogue on Vampire Diaries and all, but in real life, I've heard he's somewhat of a totally Earth-conscious hipster. That is great and all, but I don't need those smoldering peepers to look over and scold me when I chuck an empty Coors Light bottle at a sign on a back road while booze cruising, you know?

Number 5. New to the list!!

Chris Hemsworth

Chris. Yum. Since Sam Worthington has decided to grow Mel Gibson Lethal Weapon 3 hair, he's out. Chris may even be better. When I look at him, I feel like Chris Pine, Sam Worthington before lame hair, and pre-wig Tom Brady got together and had a baby. Then made him Australian.

Number 4. The lone NFLer

Wes Welker

Wes. I'm not impressed with his height, but his quads make up for it. His hairline is also a little rough, but his hand-eye coordination make up for that. Plus he just looks like he would be adorable when he wakes up in the morning and asks me for waffles. With syrup, Wes? Coming right up.

Number 3. This was tough.

Ryan Kwanten

Uhhhhh. Ryan. He's like a shorter version of Ryan Reynolds without the lame smirk and bad aftertaste of Van Wilder. He looks great in anything (and if you've Googled imaged him, you know he looks good in nothing as well) and his face just looks incredibly friendly. He IS Jason Stackhouse, yet he's actually the complete opposite in real life. He has an Australian accent and he was in my friend's bowling league. That bitch. He has the wrong color eyes for me, but I can overlook that if he stays shirtless often enough.

Number 2. Sen-Fucking-Sational.

Alexander Skarsgard

Sweet baby Jesus. Thanks to True Blood and Rolling Stone, I have now seen almost every single inch of this physical specimen. I like what I've seen. I was concerned that I only liked him as Vampire Viking Eric until I saw photos of him at Coachella defending the honor of his waif girlfriend against photographers and then hoisting her onto his shoulders so she could see to jam better. Swoooooonsville!!!! When I combine the thought of Eric in the books with Eric from the show, an F5 tornado of lust swirls within me!

Numero Uno. It might shock you.

David Beckham

Becks. He has been dancing around my Top 5 for a while now. I kept putting Landon Donovan in front of him, but I have realized I was wrong there. David is a better overall package. This picture alone captures 3 of my favorite things on Earth. Soccer, the beach, a shirtless, hot David Beckham. He's a family man, he has stayed married to the same woman for over a decade, (which is also the first woman I ever had a lezbotronic crush on, coincidentally) he looks fantastic with any color or cut of hair and wearing anything from sweats to Brooks Brothers, he plays a great sport - for Los Angeles sports team..... and he's just remarkable to look at. I mean... sometimes I have to bend over and put my hands on my knees to let my Beckham ladywood go away so I can walk upright. Let's review...

Oh woops. I just dropped an egg. No big deal. He doesn't look adorable with his son at a Lakers game.

Daaaaaamn. Something... just happened in my pants. I need to go to the bathroom. Just give me a minute *stands bent over with hands on knees, strained look on face*

Ladies... I hope I have sufficiently filled your spank banks. Until next list. I bid you happy jacking.

I Mustache You A Very Important Question

Oh, hello.

I'm what happens if you're a super weirdo and Google "woodchuck with mustache".

I have something very important to tell you.

HAPPY FRIDAY!!!!

28 Weeks Later... In a Good Way

Duckasaurus Rex!

Lots of stuff going on! It's inching closer to the Holidays and you're debut so everyone is pretty busy. Some busy with less important stuff than others....

Three of your Uncles are in a bit of a frenzy. Call of Duty: Black Ops came out 2 days ago. Yeah, ridiculous is right. From as much as I can tell, they all still have their jobs so far. No telling if your cousin has seen her father without a headset on since the 9th though. I have nothing against video games, but if it prevents Thanksgiving celebrations, I may go Black Ops on some people myself. Your other Uncle couldn't care less. He's more concerned with cigars.

Your nursery is coming together quite nicely! I have seen pics of the process. Your Mom has a real slash and burn operation going on, dude. Your Dad seems a tad worried. I asked your Mom if she would let him help and then we both laughed at the image of him painting. He declared this morning that if you turn out to be a girl, his "mind will be blown". I still say you are one. Just so we're clear, I will love you either way even if my blog below makes you think otherwise.

Back to your Mom. What. A. Freak. All I know is, you haven't slowed her down one bit. She tried to finish your nursery by herself today, but had some paint issues. When she was on the phone with me outside the paint store, she actually debated on picking up some parking lot hired help. I quickly and strongly advised against this. Sometimes she says things like "I'm seriously thinking about doing this" and doesn't mean it... but sometimes she does. It's hard to tell with that one. Anyhoo, she texted me at my request once she arrived back home minus a possible... ethnic helper. She did say that you seem as over painting as she is because you just chill all up in there while she does it. I picture you staring blankly. I was worried that maybe you were too high from fumes to give a damn, but she advised that "This stuff is all legit toxin free!! Did you expect anything less from me?!". Just sayin, if you come out all buzzed looking, I'm blaming the paint.

Let's review your stats! You are 28 weeks baked today!! You are about 15 inches from your head to your heels. You weigh over 2 pounds now. You can blink your eyes!!! You have a little eyesight now too and you can most likely see light outside your Mom. This could explain why you keep blasting your foot out into her tummy, though I choose to believe you're practicing your corner kick for soccer! (don't tell your Uncle A) You are getting eyelashes now. Grow them nice and long so I can give you butterfly kisses when you're older, okay?

When it's time for your next blog, I will be with you! It will be Thanksgiving and you need to be prepared to take on a LOT of food. I have seen your Mother eat and it's all very Discovery Channel. Look down. See that? It's your belly. And it's going to have a lot of turkey in it. Whenever you're ready for pie, grab that cord and tug. I'm sure she'll oblige.

I can't wait to see you!!! Until then, Get Big. Get Big. Get Big.

Eat you up I love you so xoxo

"I'm still sort of moved by your 'My word is stronger than Oak' thing"

I will never understand men as long as I live. Though, having many close guy friends, a male roommate and Adam H. Newman as first a boyfriend then a best friend has helped me... cope. In light of some recent events (that did not happen to me, I'm all set thanks) here are some of my thoughts on men.

- A man will say absolutely anything to get what he wants. A-ny-thing. Whether he wants a sandwich, sex, a job, a date or you to marry him, he'll say whatever he thinks will seal this deal.

- Even the guy your friend sets you up with that she describes as "the super nice guy, so sweet, just a good guy"with her hand on her chest, a sad face and her head tilted, is capable of screwing you over. Even HE can lie, cheat and leave you. Whether he's your boyfriend of a week or your husband of 20 years. Not saying he will, but he's very capable.

- A man can tell you how much he loves you 10 times in one day. He can also wake up the next morning and break up with you. I have seen it happen.

- When questioned about cheating, a common thing a man will say is "where would I find the time?". If he wants to? Oh, he'll find the time. He'll find plenty of fucking time.

- They are also capable of incredible levels of cowardice. I mean, the emotional equivalent of throwing you in front of a bullet to save themselves. The same man that went with you to take your dog to the vet and held you as you cried would also make you feel responsible for him breaking up with you when really he just wants to nail other people. But saying that... now, that makes him bad guy. Yes. That's how they think.

Now, that being said....
They are capable of amazing feats of love and faith. It's like that line in Jerry McGuire "Men are the enemy... but I still love the enemy". Did I just quote that movie? Really? Yeah, I did. And I'll do it again. ALL men are not bad. There's nothing worse than an "All men do this horrible thing" or "Fuck love!" quote. The reason that men and love are so amazing is because they are both simultaneously ridiculously good and strong, then terribly fragile. Sometimes I don't even blame them.

I'll tell you this. Take one day, a Friday for example. Wake up and just decide to think, speak, have the ego of a man that day. Obviously you're not disguising your voice or anything frittata like that, but just behave is if you were you, but a man. At home, at work, and best of all... that night in a bar. Throw your girly cautions and flirty smiles to the effing wind. Stare some dudes up and down. Talk to one, and the second a better looking one comes by, look at him, then go after him. Don't be especially rude, just do whatever the hell you please. Talk to your friends, chat using whatever naughty language you want, have a blasty blast, but everything you do, think of the way a boy would do it and try that. Take no fucking prisoners. Now, wake up the next day and tell me you didn't feel a little stronger, more powerful, sexier. If you don't, fine. Don't try it again. If you do, keep it up. One day a week, then one more and so on. Trust me, it's fun. The best of both worlds usually is. A Charlotte and a Samantha mixed together with less cheesy dialogue. A Kanye West attitude singing a Taylor Swift song. The ultimate dream!

Now, this is also single me talking. Happy relationship me sings a different tune because I'm usually drinking the Kool Aid. I will say this, I know ONE man. One. That has been honest and consistent and forthright in the 15+ years that I have known him. (that I know of) Not great odds, but I'll tell you how I get through that and alllll the bullshit above to occasionally make it from single me to happy relationship me in a world filled with douchebaggery. Think like a man. Treat a man the way they treat everything in life; like it's a joke or a game to be played. Analyze that any way you like. As soon as you tire of this and would rather be drinking the relationship Purple Drink, you'll know and let your guard down.

Just remember; If this is empty *points to heart*, this doesn't matter *points to head*. Is that relevant to this rantalicious blog? I'm unsure, but I told you I would quote Jerry Maguire again and by God, I keep my promises!!! (unlike all men.)

"I hope I do good on my English test!!! And Free Weezy!"

Randoms


1. My roommate grew a beard on a whim. I think it looks nice on him! He's a big, tall dude so he looks even more manly and intimidating. He enjoys rubbing things on the beard. Seriously. The other day I saw him rubbing the remote on it. Then a red Solo cup. He seems to have gotten past the itchy stage, but he says he's now in the stage where "I can SEE the mustache when I look down". I can see the hair on my toes if the sun shines on it just right so I feel his pain.


2. Last night I was touching my hair to make sure it was still there and shiny and I discovered a ladybug just chilling on my head. How long had it been there? What did it want? I didn't kill it because I have always been taught that ladybugs are good luck. I just flicked it on the floor where it will die soon enough of natural causes and I'll sweep it up with the swiffer. later on, I saw it outside my bedroom door. Was that the same one? It is BENT on giving me my good luck and I admire that in a flying insect!


3. I finally gain weight like a normal, healthy human being. This is awesome for my ass, not the greatest for my tummy. The most noticeable change in my journey to womanhood is that I am getting fat enough where I can feel my boobs actually bounce when I walk. It sort of startled me. This has never happened before. I texted Duck's Mom to tell her this and her response was "Welcome to the club! 98% of women in the world are already in it." Ladies of Earth: I'm now with you!


4. Years and years ago, I had a boyfriend much older than me (I know, shocker). We broke up for many reasons, he was a great guy and she's a nice lady, but the biggest was because he couldn't cut the umbilical cord. A few nights ago, I had a dream that I was lying in bed, fully clothed, flipping channels and I looked over and he and his Mom were lying there too going through some figurines of colorful farm animals they had ordered in the mail and deciding where they should be placed in the house. I just remember my eyes widening, my mouth dropping open, and waking myself up. I would just like to take this moment to thank God for validating my life choices through the magic of dreams. You have no idea how real a possibility this could have been.


5. Foods I am currently addicted to: Mini quiche from Sam's Club, whole wheat angel hair with olive oil, cherry tomatoes with swiss on Trisquits, brown rice with yellow and red peppers, cheap frozen pizzas covered in banana peppers, semi-sweet chocolate chips. Everything else is stupid.

6. I am obsessed with Jenny on The League. If I ever get married (and let's face it, that's a long shot) I hope that's exactly the wife I am. In fact, if I ever even have a serious boyfriend again, I'm just going to sit him down to watch those DVD's and let him know that if that's not close to what he's looking for then "Darlin', we must re-define the nature of our association". And if he doesn't know what movie that line is from, I'm telling him to get the hell out of my apartment.

7. I have decided to leave all the fake cobwebs that I hung for the Halloween party in the basement. Indefinitely. They make me want to drink.

8. I bought green nail polish today. First jeggings, now green nail polish. I'm like Benjamin Button; getting younger every day.

9. Speaking of the basement, ever since Travis made me watch the movie The Strangers on Halloween, I can't fucking go down there. I need to get a bin with sweaters for winter and I swear, I can NOT make myself descend those stairs. Even if he's home, I'm nervous he's going to scare me to be funny and it's going to be another pants pissing story.

10. My 16 year old niece has a fairly alarming obsession with Lil Wayne. Not his music, but him. She had a countdown on her facebook for him leaving prison. I... I don't know what to do about that.

One....Two....Three... Urine!

A little story about my first big humiliation. The first of many.

I grew up in a very, very, very small town. My father was a volunteer fireman there for most of my life. When my older sister and I were little we used to love to go to the fire station to see him and "help" with stuff. Really, we would just go to see what other kids were up there with their parents so we could all group together and run all over town like savages. I was about 5 or 6 at this time, so I rarely got to leave the station with the older kids because my Dad feared they would either accidentally leave me somewhere or my sister would kill the first person that looked at me funny. (She was a tad overprotective unless she was the one beating my ass.)

After fires, Dad would take the hoses off the trucks and lie them all flat to drain. He used to tell me to walk very slowly, toe to heel, all the way down them to help get the water out. I loved doing this. I felt like I was helping not only my town, but pretty much all of America. Plus, when I helped, my Dad would buy me Hostess cherry pies which at the time were basically catnip to me. I didn't like to mop the water off the floor once it gushed out of the hoses, so I would cheat a little and put the nozzle over one of the many drains in the floor to save myself time. Inventive? Yes. Lazy? Also yes.

One summer afternoon, my Dad had come back to the station from a brush fire so my Sister, her friend Val and I went up to there to help take care of biz. I'm doing my job with the hoses and my Dad is re-stocking the trucks and cleaning up and such. My Sister and Val are bored so they ask my Dad if they can go across main street to the gas station to buy snacks. I can't remember what miracle took place to make this happen, but I get to go with them. It was a bright sunny afternoon and this was before my town reduced to being just a bar and a Dollar General so there were a lot of people out and about.

After we get our delicious and I'm sure healthy gas station snacks, Sister and Val each take one of my hands. They walk me over to the sidewalk so we can cross Main Street back to the station. There are no such things as stop lights or crosswalks in my town, you just make due wherever it's most convenient. They have already informed me that we are walking across when they count to three and now they are talking to each other waiting for a good opening in traffic. Riding high on my wave of joy at being allowed to go with the girls across big bad Main Street for the first time, I decide I'm going to show them how cool I can be by playing a trick. They see an opening in the cars coming, so starts the "Ok, kid.... one (a big smile spreads across my face)....two (my eyes narrow in anticipation)...." and I yell "THREE!", rip my hands free of theirs, and sprint out into the street.


Several things happen at once. Cars from both ways screech to a stop. The noise makes me freeze in place. I look to my left, and an older man I don't recognized isn't worried about me, but shaking his old ass fist at me screaming out his window. My Sister and Val run to me and sweep me up in both of their arms as my Sister yells for the old man to "shut your mouth! she's just a kid!". They set me down safely on the other side and it occurs to me I have done something very wrong. I begin to worry and beg them not to tell Dad. My Sister is examining me for any harm while glancing back at the station making sure he has not emerged. She is visibly shaken and warns me that if "you ever do that again, I'll throw all your Little Ponies in the wood chipper". I begin to cry. She wipes my tears and we all agree it's just best to act totally normal and not tell Dad how horribly my first access to Main Street without parental supervision went. She takes my hand (MUCH more firmly this time) and we walk back into the station through the bay door.


My Dad is briskly walking up from the back with a concerned look on his face. As he meets us in the middle of the station, he asks what the honking and tire noises were for out on the street. Within a second from those words dropping from his mustachioed mouth, my Sister folds like a house of cards on a breezy day. "SHE RAN OUT INTO THE STREET, DAD!" The only noise I could hear was my father slowly inhaling. He is 6'4" and I am most likely about 3'2" at this time. My face is right about level with his Bruce Jenner short shorts. I am frozen in place clutching my Hostess for life. I see his hands ball into fists and raise ever so slowly to meet his hips as I can feel his eyebrows meeting at the same time he is lowering his face to stare me down. I decide I have to look sooner or later so I muster the courage to look up. I should have been summoning the ability to control my bladder because as soon as I took in the worried/super pissed look in the grown up eyes that match my own..... I pissed myself. Hardcore. Even his mustache looked mad.


"NOW SHE WET HER PANTS, DAD!" flies out of my Sister's mouth. My Dad unlocks his fiery gaze long enough to shift it to the I'm sure steadily growing puddle beneath my Kangaroos. His face turns instantly to an apology. I burst into sobs. Sister bursts into laughter. Val is still a statue of fear. My Dad peels off his awesome Wild Turkey t-shirt, wraps it around the bottom half of my kick ass shorts jumpsuit and scoops me up into a sweaty hug. "Your Mom is going to murder me". I cry harder as I try to get an apology out. He takes me to the ladies room and cleans me up as he explains that he wasn't mad, he was just scared. He grabs another t shirt from his locker and puts me in that. It is a dress on me so I don't need anything else. I can NOT stop sobbing. I have let my father down for the first time and I'm pretty sure life as I know it is over. Let's not even discuss the mortification of pissing in front of my Sister and Val (who both still remind me of this almost 30 years later). He takes me out back and lies me down in his truck to take a nap in the sun while he washes out my jumpsuit. I didn't know it at the time, but he threatens my Sister that if she tells Mom or anyone about this, he's going to take away her Rick Springfield albums.

When he finally comes back out to get me, he looks so sorry for making me cry. He gets me re-dressed and explains that I can't run away from or disobey my sister even when she's being a dickhead. He promises to take me on more walks across the street so I understand traffic. He says that old man that shook his fist at me is an asshole anyway, so don't worry about that. He gives me a few more hugs and says not to be embarrassed because he's not going to tell anyone and if Sister does, "she's getting the belt". He stands me up, smooths my hair and says "Hey.... at least you peed directly over a drain!" with a big, bright-eyed smile on his face.

Oh, Dad. I love you.

Hide yo kids, Hide yo wife, And hide yo husbands because there's a Mouse up in here, ya'll

This morning started like most Mondays.

I woke up after pressing snooze a billion times. I turned on MTV to wake me with the soothing sounds of Eminem. I opened my Mac to see Landon Donovan stare out at me seductively from my desktop. I grabbed a towel to head to the shower to wash 2 days worth of Halloween level hairspray from my dome.

I turn the water on to warm and put pre-brush mouthwash in. I pull back the curtain to make sure the entire bottle of Drano I poured down the drain on Friday had worked and the water wasn't making a shower lagoon. That's when I notice some black specks at the end of the tub. I am about 5 minutes out of sleep at this point so I'm trying to process what they are (lint? chocolate sprinkles? did I sleep eat a cupcake in here?) when I see something twitch out of the corner of my right eye. That something was a small tail and the back wheels of a mouse trying desperately to escape under the clear plastic curtain from the hot water raining down on his ass and back! I let out a closed-mouth "Ah!!" and my eyes nearly leap out of their sockets.

As I whirl around for the door I realize I am naked and have a mouth full of Crest foam. I turn back toward the tub. I turn back toward the door. I spit my mouthwash into the sink. I turn back toward the door. I am clearly panicking. My first thought is "I need Travis! But he's going to want to kill the mouse!". I contemplate trying to save my little guest myself, but I am already saying "Oh no, Oh God, Oh no." with every move I make so there is NO way I'm stifling a shriek if the mouse resists at all in my rescue attempt. I turn for the door. I realize again I am naked and Travis has seen enough so I reach back for a towel. I yell towards the upstairs. "HELP ME!!!". This wasn't the smartest as his first thought was -INTRUDER-. I quickly clarify that is not the case, he says his hands are full of hair gel, but he's coming. My next words "PLEASE DON'T KILL IT!!!". I am borderline hysterical. (In case you have not been reading previous blogs, I have an irrational amount of love and compassion for small woodland creatures. Not deer though, they're all clearly suicidal and I'm sick of my vehicle being their death vessel.)

Travis descends the stairs ready to take action. His first words: "Get the camera". I refuse as my tub is too dirty for photo documentation. He attempts to calm me while searching the kitchen for objects that insure swift and safe mouse transport from tub to back yard. I continue to lose my mind while I hop up and down wrapped in a blue beach towel. All I can picture is Travis getting frustrated with an uncooperative mouse and deciding he needs to die via giant hand squeeze so I am just pleading for it's safety. He again attempts to calm me down and assure me he's not going to harm the rodent. He heads to the bathroom with his trap of choice: A folded Smirnoff Ice box and a Solo cup. (Somewhere in the back of my head a voice says "man, we drink a lot here" but I am too focused/insane to make a joke at this point.) I follow him to see this extraction, but fearing either for my safety or my sanity, he orders me out of the bathroom and to close the door. I am fearful this means certain death for the mouse, but I choose to trust and I exit. The entire time, I continue to hop up and down just wailing things like "Did you get him? Is he ok! He's wet, be careful! DON'T HURT HIM!".

After about 60 seconds, Travis says "Ok, got him, open the door" and I see his face of triumph as he walks out of the bathroom with the Solo cup clamped securely down on the Smirnoff box platform. I want him to show me the the little guy, but I take his word that he is alive and well under there and "quite jumpy". The last thing I need is the tiny animal I worked to save lunging out from under a beer cup at my worried face. I rush to the sliding door to let Travis out onto the deck. I think he's just going to set him free right there, but he just leaps out across the yard in 33 degree temps and morning darkness wearing nothing but basketball shorts. All I can really see is his arms raise against the light from a building behind our house and I hear him giggle. As he runs back towards me I ask him what he did. "I tossed him over the fence, I'm sure he's fine". I yell "YOU THREW HIM?!" but deep down I know it's ok because I have seen mice fall from barn rafters 20 feet up a billion times and just scurry away so I know the 5 foot drop was no big.

Travis returns to the house a hero. Not til just then did I even think about the fact that he just did all that for me with a painful broken clavicle. : ( He also says "I was naked too! With 2 hands full of hair gel. And my first though was 'If it's an intruder, there's about to be a naked fight!'". His hero status elevates significantly.

I have thought about the mouse a lot today. I hope he's ok. One of the first movies I ever watched was The Secret of NIMH. If you have seen it, you can imagine where my mouse affection comes from. If you don't feel something for Mrs. Brisby, get out of America, please. You're a soulless human being. The last thing I said to Travis was "What if his family is in here? What if he has a wife here or something?". Travis' thoughtful and calm reply with a big smile; "Well... then they are now starting a loving, long distance relationship."

Take care, little mouse.

Ducky's First Gig - Opening Act For A Mouse.

Hi Duck!

Sorry I didn't talk to you Friday, but I was pretty consumed with Halloween. There was a party at my house and I had to pretty much take the entire day to think about zombies and cobweb placement. You'll understand some day. I promise that when you are born, I won't neglect you for walking corpse jokes or party planning. Swear. I went as Little Red Riding Hood. It was somewhere between the cute version and skanky version. I think it worked.

Your cousin has a blog now too! She recently had her shots. What. A. Wimp. Kidding!! Poor thing had to get poked 3 times. Even I would get pretty frazzled after that. It did result in an amazing angry picture of her though, which is nice. You can use it to torture her in high school when you guys are older.

It's your Dad's birthday!! Pretty sure he's still younger than me though, so that's a bummer. He is still handsome with a great head of hair. Nothing has changed there. He also ignored my call this morning. Nothing has changed there either. Bigtime movie producers can't always be available for Ohio birthday wishes. Be sure to give him some pokes through the belly love today!!

Honestly, other than that. Not that much is going on. You are 26 weeks baked now! Your Mom is having such a blissfully normal pregnancy that it's hard to find hilarious stories for you. Hopefully this will change as she gets fatter and fatter and fatter. You are about 14 inches long now and almost 2 lbs. Your hearing is getting better and you have started to take small breaths to build your little duck lungs up for your first big quack. If you are a boy (which I don't think you are) your little man parts have started to descend. Gross, right? Don't worry, it's normal.

I have to go because I have another whole blog to write about a rodent, but I will see you very soon at Thanksgiving! Soooo excited!!

Eat you up I love you so!
xoxox

PS, There is a rap song by someone named Dorrough out right now. Even though is it pretty offensive and all about money and not unborn child growth, the chorus just repeats the words "Get Big" over and over and I always think of you. Get Big in there!!!

If You Think The Undead Are A Joke... I Hope Your Brains Are The First To Be Devoured

I was just informed of something that has shaken me to my very core.... Humans Vs. Zombies. "A game of moderated tag commonly played on college campuses" Are you SHITTING ME? Zombies are considered a game now? Is this a joke to you people? The undead are NOT something to regard lightly. See the game here http://humansvszombies.org/.

Only someone as careless as a college freshman WOULD think it's funny to be knocked to the ground and have their brains gnawed on by a professor they once respected who is now nothing but a gaunt, flesh-eating monster with torn clothing. (preferably off at the knees because zombies need pirate pants?) I, on the other hand, a grown woman with a little more than half of a complete college education, yet a boat load of real word experience, think zombies are scary as fuuuuuck.

Zombies were scary enough back in the days of Night of the Living Dead and Thriller, but with the times have come advances in their abilities. How this zombie evolution happened? Not a clue. I'm just saying, the ones from 28 Days Later are not lurching, mindless creatures. They now have the wheels of a college running back and the tenacity of Charlie Sheen looking for hookers. The ones from I Am Legend? Give me a fucking break! They rememberrrr (voice of dude from Jurassic Park speaking of the Raptors - another blog, another time). They were not only smart, they had a leader with a grudge. They could train zombie dogs! They set a damn trap! Hell, they probably had a Union and held meetings in the abandoned subway!

Can you even imagine it? I think I would rather have a mildly successful Russian take over a la Red Dawn than brain-craving undead dudes running the streets. How do you know how to stop them? If you "kill" them, how do you know they don't reassemble themselves? That's a trial and error situation I want NO part of. My fear (that some would say is wildly irrational and just plain stupid) that zombies are real and could invade at any given moment, was only made worse by this article http://www.theonion.com/articles/study-reveals-pittsburgh-unprepared-for-fullscale,1815/. Is this hilarious? Without a doubt, but it's also informative and most of all.... a wake up call.

After this article was released, there was a facebook thread started in response. The article was copied, and below it you were asked to choose your 1. Partner in Crime 2. Weapon of choice and 3. Song of destruction should a full scale zombie outbreak ever occur. My brilliant and probably life saving answers:

1. A male F-16 Viper pilot with a 2 seater at his disposal. Not only do you have a combat trained companion, you have an airborne vehicle with weapons! You also have a way to repopulate the Earth if this shit gets to stage 4 (see help link at bottom of blog). In any case, with the military is going to be your best location because lets face it - they are always the last to die in these movies. Plus, pilots are good at one thing that I know of... kickin' the tires and lightin' the fires. Blowing shit UP.

2. Easy. Self-recharging laser gun. If you think any other weapon would be better, you're just fooling yourself. Ammo doesn't last forever. Lasers are forever. And just awesome even when not slicin' and dicin' the living dead.

3. This is a VERY hard choice. I would normally pick something like "Not In My House" by Rooney, but this isn't an indoor soccer game. This is all out survival. The fact that I would probably just shrivel into a puddle if I ever saw a zombie makes me feel like I need to go outside my rock comfort zone here and pick something that would pump me up for just this occasion. The obvious choice is "Bodies" by Drowning Pool. It would help me channel my inner Milla Jovovich and I think the repetitive lyrics would really keep me on task.

Now, I have to just consider as soon as the outbreak happens that my loved ones are now just drooling, brain hungry corpses. I really feel like this is an every still-able-minded-person for themselves event. My worry is that my 2 pilot choices will either be occupied on orders or try to save THEIR loved ones. It's bullshit, because I have made both of them promise to get me first, but lets face it... one lives in Minneapolis and has a fiance with a big head that is topped with a mop of shiny blond curls that pretty much scream "Great brain under here! Look!!!" so he's got his hands full. The other is stationed in Italy. My only hope is that the infestation hasn't reached there yet so he has nothing better to do. Plus, if I tell him all the Chipotle in the world is now at risk, I'm sure he would take immediate action. Especially if I had the last edible burrito in my Jansport.

Look, people... Zombies are a terrifying possibility. I suggest you devise a plan NOW as we are 2 days from Halloween. This website should really be informative and preparedness is our best hope: http://www.zombiesurvivalwiki.com/.

The only thing I can imagine worse than being the dumb fuck that's one of the first to go is being the LAST to go... *shudders*. Good thing I found that discount laser gun on ebay.

The Longest Blog... for the Longest 24 Hours. Ever.

I went to Columbus Ohio for the first time this weekend. My friend Sasha (code name) moved there recently. Travis and Flick and I decided to road trip it to visit. This is AFTER Travis broke his collarbone during a friendly touch football game Saturday morning. That right there should have given me an indication about how the rest of the weekend would turn out.

Here is a rough timeline. And I stress rough.

10:45 am: Flick tries to tell me through the bathroom door that Travis has a snapped collarbone, he's taking him to the ER, we are still going to Columbus. I think they are joking. They are not.

Noon: I walk in to American Eagle, hand a manager my application, she says she has seen me shop there a hundred times, I am hired. I think I am awesome, call Duck's Mom to tell her, proceed to bounce back to my house to bask in my glory.

2:30-3pm: We are on our way to Columbus. GPS thinks a funny joke would be to take us on a random back road for about 5 miles. Travis is on pain meds, in a Wendy's coma, snoring. Flick has the music too loud.

4:00pm: We are in Columbus, I am saying I'm full, I am eating mass amounts of carmel corn and drinking an Oktoberfest. Sasha's hair looks great.

7:30pm: We have changed houses, I take a phone call, Flick smokes a cigarette, Travis sits on a bench in the yard staring. I make a very stiff red bull and vodka and we begin to take pictures. Sasha appears to be grabbing her crotch in all of them.

8:30pm: Everyone but me is hungry. We stop at 5 guys. I eat 4 peanuts and talk about how I'm not nearly drunk enough. I also say that I predict I will be passed out sleeping by 11pm. They assure me they won't let that happen. I secretly devise a plan to sleep in the car while they party. There is a really red-faced guy sitting next to us.

9:00pm: We are at a bar with Tuna in the name. We are drinking out of a plastic fish bowl with a toy shark in it. My Red Bull kicks in, I drink so fast I get brain freeze and loudly declare "I'M BACK!" for no reason at all. Travis keeps the toy shark from our strawberry death mix and puts it in his sling, we head to the next bar. The escalator we ride jars to a stop mid-trip. This has never happened to me before and I think it was another sign I chose to ignore regarding the night. Moving on.

9:03pm: I come about 2 feet from just walking directly out in front of a car. Due to Travis' busted wing, he is not fast enough to stop me when reaching. Thankfully, he yelled and I could still hear and process at this point. Close one. A dueling mash up of Alicia Keys "Try Sleeping with a Broken Heart" and Metallica "Sad But True" starts to play on loop in my head. This propels me forward in partying.

9:30pm: We are at a bar called Brothers, around a fire pit. Sasha and I have accidentally switched beers. Tucker Mis has just arrived. And she's ready to fuck shit up. I am texting 2 of our friends trying to get everyone to the same location. We meet someone named Jeff and his friends. I don't talk to them much. I'm drunk.


10:30pm: We walk down to another bar to try to find my friend The Dr. We see him on the way, I shriek and almost tackle him down some stairs in front of his friends. We go into a bar, I dance for a minute to a band playing Maroon 5. The Dr. Ices me. It doesn't go down easily.


11:00pm: We are in a piano bar. It is packed. I start chatting with a gay guy who's black. I call him racist for some reason. I am handed a shot, I take it, look over at The Dr. and scream "Oh no! I know what that was!" It was Liquid Cocaine. I am laughed at. I ask for water, "Pour Some Sugar On Me" comes on. I lose my mind dancing and whipping my head around. I think there is a video camera on. I tell Travis he is my best friend ever. I drink zero water.


Lights out. Everything after this should just be typed with a question mark.


12:00am: We are in another bar. It is a very very very dark dance club. The only thing I remember about it is dancing. Forever. I don't see any of my friends. Finally, Sasha and Flick come into view. I decide I'm safe and keep dancing. The Dr. disappears for the rest of the night. I finally look at my phone and there are a billion missed calls and texts from our other friend OTB. I can't read. I mentally CAN NOT figure out how to read them. I go to the patio. I call his phone. I ask where he is even though I have no idea where I am. I walk out the door directly into him on the street.

Lights out.

12:30-1:30am: I have no idea how or why, but we are back at Brothers. I am handed another shot. I do it. I get a beer. The lights turn on and I scream "Noooooo!!!" (so much for that 11pm pass out time) "I Want It That Way" comes on. I decide I am a Backstreet Boy. Travis films this. From multiple angles. There is another dude added to our group. I don't know him and never introduce myself.

2:00am: We are being herded out of the bar. There are cops galore. There is a conversation that I don't remember. I am separated from the group and leave with OTB because I think I wanted to "party more!". I ask 500 times if I'm going to get raped in an alley because we are walking in one. I remember seeing lots of pumpkins....

Lights out. For good.

9:00amish: I wake up. I am staring at a sword hanging on a wall. I am in a cool condo. I don't know where or why. I look around and see OTB. I realize I am safe. I look down, I am not naked. He asks if I want coffee. I ask for SportsCenter instead. I am definitely still drunk. I text to make sure the group knows I'm alive. They do and tell me to go back to sleep. I watch TV and chat it up with OTB.

10:30-11am: OTB has to go pick up someone that was towed the night before. We walk down the street to a nice coffee shop/brunch place. I am clearly looking 'last nightish'. We say our good byes and I tell Sasha and the boys where to find me. I get a coffee and sit on a bench in the sun to wait for them. I call Adam and inform him of the events I remember so far. He is amused.

11:30am: We decide to eat there. I am confused and disoriented so I order the breakfast buffet AND french toast AND a veggie omelet. I hold a plate while Travis piles is food on to it. Flick informs me they have lost my camera. I give Travis a Percocet for his shoulder and decide .... "hey, I'll have one too". My hangover leaps forward with the locomotive of a prescription pill behind it. I am no longer able to eat. I begin to lose motor skills. I brace for the worst.

Noon: We are walking down the street. I decide I'm going to faint so I sit down on a little brick wall behind people taking wedding pictures. Ultimate photo bomb. Sasha tells me I can make it to the car. She holds my arm to lead me there. We start driving. I inform Flick that I'm going to barf. He refuses to pull over saying "You BETTER not puke in my car" I grab a plastic bag on the seat. I realize it is filled with cash, Travis' wallet and his video camera. I dump them out and assume the posish. Travis calmly says "you'll be fine, just take some deep breaths". I do this. I make it back to Sasha's. I refuse to leave the car because I'm scared to move. She brings me a pillow and extra plastic bags for the ride home.

1:00pm: We are on our way. I alternate between lying back and leaning forward depending on how close to barfing I am. The boys smoke cigs and make fun of me. We listen to old school hip hop. I have a backwards jacket on and I'm covered up with another. I see the video camera and watch one of the recordings. It is me getting Iced another time in a very dark bar with only the flashes of cameras lighting my face. I have absolutely no memory of this.

2:30-3:30pm: We arrive home. Flick carries my bag in as I am incapable of most things at this point. I change into sweats and a hoodie and gather anything I may need to reach to move to couch island. Travis uses his one arm to dismantle his basement recliner and carry it upstairs to sleep in. I offer to help, he declines, I ask him for a glass of ice water. Braveheart comes on. We settle in for that.

It really is true... Every man dies, but not every man really lives.

10 Reasons For Sanity

Life is hard. It's messy and complicated and a constant struggle to just... maintain. BUT, it's also hilarious, beautiful and the best part; temporary. That's why we should all just take at least as many moments to count our blessings or profess our love as we do to log our stresses.


Here is my attempt. Some things I currently love about my life.


1. My hair is so damn shiny. As I say this, God will probably punish me for my vanity and turn my strawberry lemonade locks to dust via fall wind and dryness, but until that moment, my head is awesome.


2. I had my Halloween costume a month before I needed it. This never happens. I may start trying to do Christmas this early. Though, Christmas won't come complete with slutty accessories. Or will it...


3. I found the absolute perfect jeggings for $15. Jeggings? Yeah, jeggings. Get over it!


4. It has been the prettiest fall so far!! What really made me realize this is getting to take some REALLY long drives through the Midwest on weekends and they were just gorg. Sunshine and leaves and 60 degrees? Gimme a break, that's fuckin awesome!


5. I made so many new friends this summer. There's one that shares my love of flowers in hair, flowy shirts, horrible love movies, sports, sarcasm, blue eyed boys, talking shit, air humping, great shoes and the belief that your house should smell seasonal. She really busts my balls a lot, but I love her.


6. My friends from home text me pics of themselves partying so I don't miss anything. And trust me, I would be pissed had I not received the picture of the hand gun and pack of smokes on a tailgate outside the local VFW. Love their crazy asses too.


7. Pregnant ladies and babies. There are so many of them now! I love, love, love babies so hearing every step of the huge asses, water retention, boil-like acne, longing for alcohol and constant vomiting makes me look forward to holding theirs with my wine buzz and totally still intact vagina. Yay for babies!


8. I'm all over tacky rap music lately. Loving it! I have no idea why. Normally in fall/winter I go all alt rock and dark. Nope. Not so much. Bring on the Lil Wayne and Drake. Bring on the "shawty" and "errybody" and auto tune. Don't get too scared, I'm also listening to Florence and the Machine. Throw in a little Whitesnake too. It's all good, brah.


9. The League. This show gives me so much joy. I mean, my entire TV/DVR schedule right now is pretty effing tight, but The League is my favorite. I want to hang out with these characters at that bar in Chicago SO BAD!!!

10. A whole year of health. Now, part of life's heinous stress is the fact that I will be in medical debt with ruined credit most likely my entire life, but it's still worth feeling healthy. I went 2 years with the contents of my digestive system forcing their way out a self-made path through me to my skin. Getting that surgery, and all the bills and stress that came with, was worth every second of taping and untaping gauze, not doing anything but holding still so my tummy doesn't hurt, rubbing Vaseline on my skin so stomach acid doesn't eat it all away, drinking the worst stuff on earth so Dr. Greggy can look at my guts glow, jamming a needle in my leg every two weeks, all of it. And every single person that called, texted, emailed, visited, helped me, went to appointments with me, they're all responsible for the health too. Every nurse that held my hand while I got stitched up or dried my eyes after they put an IV in me or forgave me while I was losing my mind on them or reassured me that I was recovering beautifully. Every person who saw my scar and said "Eh, it's no big." even though it looks like I got the worst end of an axe fight. Every second that Dr. White spent over me with that scalpel. Every minute I spent crying in Dr. Greggy's office where he had to say "Don't cry. Then I'll cry. And I'll make my assistants come in here and cry. I will fix you. I swear to you.". He came through on every single thing he said to me. And allllll of that is worth being able to run around like a wild animal now. And it's worth every dollar I have to spend and every point that goes away from my credit score.

Life is a real bitch sometimes, but every morning that I wake up and see that scar in the mirror I am reminded.... shit could be a LOT worse. Hey, At least I'm not eating hospital food right now.

24 Weeks Ducked

Ok, Duck. I thought a lot had happened 2 weeks ago? That was child's play.

Here we go,

Your Dad remained in Los Angeles while I went to Minnesota to see you and the rest of your family so I don't have much to say about him. I made him a bag for you. He has also picked out his own bag for you, which I think is hilarious and so him. I went to see his movie with your Mom so you and I have already had our first concert and movie date together! I'm sure he still has a glorious head of hair.

I met your baby cousin!! She is perfect and wonderful and incredibly spoiled. I have a feeling that aside for sleeping and having to pose in baskets for your Mom to take pictures of her, she has never been put down once. I can't say I blame everyone. Even I couldn't stop holding her. If she's not sleeping she's eating. That kid can EAT. If she's not sleeping or eating, she's squirming. She punches and kicks a lot so I hope you 2 aren't going to get in fights too much. I feel like she has been training like Rocky before the Russian. She makes ridiculously funny faces. Likes to furrow her barely there brows a lot. I could hold her and stare at her all day. She's a rad little peanut.



Your Mom!! I had no idea it was possible for her to be more beautiful, but being prego with you suits her very well. She looks exactly the same, but with a glow of pure bliss and a butt! Like... Sir Mix-A-Lot butt. Wait til you see it! When she was running across TJ Maxx to hug me, it's honestly the first thing I noticed. It's hilarious. She looks so amazing and so happy. You haven't slowed her down one bit. She still runs around crazy with seemingly endless energy. I spaced out that you were in there and asked her to try my margarita at dinner. Sorry about that. She even attempted to come to the bars with us for a while, but there was no way. Downtown was so crowded and I would have probably fainted if anyone even brushed up against her. She left me to party with your uncles and cousins and I just woke her up when I got back to sloppily tell drunken tales. Wait til you meet her, she is so fantastic. I couldn't stop randomly hugging her all weekend, but I waited all the way to the gas station to start bawling when I left to not upset her too much.



OMG... you! I felt you, Ducky!! Your Mom and I probably blew out your little ears when I first saw you, so sorry about that, but I couldn't help it. You are already a perfect little Duck bump. You definitely tried to play it coy and tease me at first. Your Mom sat on the couch because you apparently try to get her moving again every time she's relaxing by kicking her ass. I laid my hands on you for a while, but you would only move every time I got up to go change clothes! I can already see how our relationship is going to go and I'm just fine with that. I like a challenge. When you finally did give me what I wanted, it is a moment I'll never forget. I will always remember where we were, what we were doing, what your Mom was wearing, what I was wearing. It was one of those memories you just carry around with you everywhere to bring out for a smile. Then you REALLY put it into gear out to dinner. You must thoroughly enjoy Mexican Food. You kicked and moved so much I got bored with you. Kiiiidding.

You are 24 weeks baked today! You had a pretty great baby shower. There was booze there, thank Goodness. Everyone made you onesies. I made one with all the places your Mom and I used to go when we lived in the same city on it. I don't want to blow my own trombone, but basically... I'm super artsy and crafty. No big. You'll see when you get out. We'll do projects.

Oh Duck, I love you soooo much already. I can't wait to meet you, but I also want your Mom to stay prego forever because she looks so happy and so fab in maternity clothes. I still can't figure out what you are. One day your Mom will wake up and call you a boy, then the next a girl. She's SO cute when she says it to. She stares into space and touches you and says "today... I think it's a girl." with a glowy, happy smile. You are ridin' dirty pretty low right now, which makes me say boy, but your Mom has also grown some major hips which makes me say girl. I guess we will just see!

I have to go because my place of employment frowns upon blogging on company time. Going against the man is what life is about though, right? Well, not for you, since "the man" feeds you through a creepy, cord-like thing right now, but for the rest of us. I may see you at Thanksgiving, so until then, smoooooooch.

Eat you up I love you so!
xoxoxox

PS, Sorry again about trying to get you wastey face with that margarita. 21.5 years from now though, you and me kid. We'll show em how it's done.