Monday Bear

Remember that episode of Rocko’s Modern Life that was an environmental musical? That was a goodun. One of my favourite episodes. I loved that show. It was really really dirty, but we didn’t realize it.

Some people’s blogs got too whiney. I stopped reading them about 2 months ago, but I just unsubscribed yesterday.
p0wn’d, myspace style.

“Puh- owned… or however you say it!”

Remember the episode when he got fired and he was looking for a new job? He got one as a plumber’s assistant, and he just stood behind the plumber, and every time the plumber’s pants would fall down, he would say, “Hey, can you get that? Thanks alot. Hey, can you get that? Thanks alot. Hey, can you get that? Thanks alot.” Then he was a tattoo artist, and this elephant dude wanted a tattoo of a can of baked beans that says “Gloria” tattooed on his uvula. Then he was a phone sex operator, but Mrs. Bighead called in.
Rocko: Oh baby, oh baby, oh baby.
Mrs. Bighead: Rocko?!
Rocko: Mrs. Bighead?!
And they both hung up.
That would be my luck. My brother or somebody would call. I wouldn’t tell him I was his sister, I’d just hang up and lose my job or something.

So we decided that anal sex makes one a better dancer. It only makes sense. Just think about it. So how great of a dancer would I be if I could fit my pointe shoes up there, eh? Hey! I could use the ribbons to pull them out like a tampon.

Okay, that was gross. I took that one a half- step too far.

Matt’s mom bought us some dishes. Pretty blue ones. So we can have a BLUE PLATE SPECIAL -if- you know what I mean. *wink wink, nudge nudge*

Sometimes puns are even funnier when the punner doesn’t know what she’s talking about. See above.

Remember the episode where they were in the future, and Philbert’s great great grandson turtle guy was like, “hey, why do we have these things on our shoulders?” and Philbert said, “BECAUSE IT’S THE FUTURE!!!!”

Ha! I love that show!

So one more thing about poopin’. I meant to put this in my OG (that means original. I didn’t learn that from my brother, I learned it from tony.) poopin’ blog, but I forgot. Sarah’s husband Nathan coaches her when she’s pooping. He stands outside the door and says, “Relax, baby! Don’t force it!” I think that’s sweet. Most people think it’s gross, but I think it’s cute.
She still won’t let him in there when she’s pooping. He really wants to be in there, though.
When they first got married, she was pooping, and he came in there and sat on her lap and started telling her about his day. She said, “Nathan, I can’t use the bathroom when you’re in here.” He didn’t understand this and replied, “But honey, you don’t stink to me.”
His logic here is that since they are in love, they should be comfortable enough to poop in front of each other. I agree.
I could poop in front of Matt.
And I’m sure he could poop in front of me, no problem.
I think that should be a test that people have to pass before they get married. If they can’t poop, they can’t get married.
End o’ Discussion.

Remember that one episode when Philbert was writing this science fiction book, and Heffeir and Rocko thought he was an alien, because he used mustard at the Chokey Chicken (another innuendo) for deoderant? My friends and I used to give each other the Quarnasian High Five of Death. “Earthlings never pass up a high five.” “Nice melons, high five?”
That’s correct, most earthlings will never pass up a high five. But it seems that every time I innitate a high five, it goes unnoticed by the high fivee. Then I sit there like a retard with my hand up in the air. Then everyone -but- the high fivee looks at me with pity/ retardedness. Ugh. This doesn’t happen to -anyone- else. I’m so alone. Nobody understands me.

I had a turtle named Philbert. I boiled him on accident. They guy at the pet store told me that he gets cold sometimes, so when he’s not moving, I was supposed to put him in is bowl in a bathtub full of warm water. Welp, he wasn’t moving one day, so I tried it. That didn’t work, so I took him out of the bowl and turned the hot water all the way up. He sunk to the bottom. I picked him up, and he was totally flaccid. Just hanging out of his shell. I was hysterical. And 9.
My other turtle ran away while I was at church camp. So mom says.

So, Lia wants me to share the secret that I shared with her. Here goes: I can masturbate wihout using my hands. I’m talking no outside aide. No magic bullet, no interpanties vibrator of any type. I taught Lia how. I think she’s mastered (hahah) it, but I haven’t done any official followups. I won’t teach you all how to, because many of you aren’t just quite… at that level yet.
So that means:
- While driving.
- During class (especially Math class, Jamie. You are officially grossed out.)
- In the movie theatre (if only PeeWee Herman knew my trick)
- On the airplane. (Does that make me a member of the Mile High Club?)
- Hanging out with my friends.
- Taking walks around my neighborhood.
But usually the first two.

But on a less dirty note, I patched things up with that twelve year old woman with whom I live. I’m NOT happy with our compromise, but she sent Rob up here. Rob loves me as one of his own, and he’s a very smart man. It seems as if the only way of saving my relationship with my mother is if to make a compromise. Ugh. But I really just like having things my way. I typed us out a contract:
Shacking Up Agreement

Liz T

then we both signed it.

So you know, we’re doing Cinderella the ballet. (NOT FUCKING DISNEY.) Welp, Gay Erik is my dance partner. Saturday, the choreographer’s eight year old daughter Lucy was at rehearsal with us. You know how when you’re eight years old, you want to do everything that teenage girls do? Well you know how teenage girls on TV all keep diaries? Welp, Lucy does, and she draws pictures and writes everything in it. She drew a picture of me in my rags and in my Act II “tutu”. “That’s how skinny you are.” “You’re really pretty.” Little girls always love a cinderella. Anywho, Amy and Brenda told me they they were reading her diary, and the passage that they read was as follows:

Liz and Erik are dance partners. I don’t like it. They won’t stop flirting. I think they are in love.

*snort* Isn’t that cute? She doesn’t know I’m a lesbian.

That was a joke.

But her diary really did say that.

So I never really appreciated Jonathan Swift until I read A Modest Proposal. Christenings… hehe.
Sometimes I wish I had patience so I could be an English Professor. But all I have is -patients- so I have to be a doctor! Ha!
But seriously, though. I don’t like stupid people. I hate lazy people. I will tell them this, making them cry. I don’t want to do that. I just want to scrutinize their grammar.

So yesterday in math class, Mr. West said, “erected.” Of course, I thought this was hilarious, especially because of all that I think about in that class. In my silent laughter, I looked around, thinking that I would see at least 5 other people at least smiling. Everyone was paying attention to the skinny man in the front of the room, so I kept the childish hilarity to myself. I couldn’t take it anymore, so I mouthed “erected” to Kristen. It was too late. If anyone had even caught the fact that he said “erected”, they had already forgotten. Kristen chuckled at my silliness and mouthed “what?” Then, going balls to the walls, I said, “Imagine him in a vampire costume,” thinking of Tharon. She immediately burst into laughter. When he pointed at things on the board, I imagined him taking his cape with him in his hand, fangs, red bowtie, and all, and I lost it. I was about [this] close to pissing myself.
At least I didn’t piss on a cute boys shoulders on the beach.
If you didn’t get that, fuck you for not reading my earlier blogs.

So I heard that A Perfect Circle is ending. Thank God. The only song I liked was The Nurse Who Loved Me, and that wasn’t even -their- song. It was a cover. Assholes.

So in conclusion, I’m hot, cute, and have nice teeth. Apparently. And I’m of the Frosted Strawberrry variety.

This entry was posted on Friday, April 21st, 2006 at 4:43 PM and is filed under Awkward Scenarios, Dance, Dating, Family, Music, Nasty, Pooping, School, Secks, Television. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.