So I haven’t gotten much sleep in the past few days. This should make for a nice delusional blogging experience.
howdah n A seat or covered pavilion on the back of an elephant or camel.
I’ve got to get me one of those.
So I just realized this; dachshunds are funny. I guess I’m just used to my own, but I saw a picture of a dachshund and just cracked up. Its body is so long, and its legs so short! It’s ridiculously out of proportion. Crazy dogs.
Actually, the first time Matt came over here and met Trixie, he concluded that Trixie is not an animal, but a machine. Dachshunds are not natural– they are manmade “animals.” Therefore, machines.
Alley Jo was over here last night/ this morning. From the bathroom (the door between the bathroom and the bedroom open, of course), I was trying to talk her into getting various parts pierced:
“Because… your boyfriend… *hurtyvagface* is more hard… core than mine… AGHHH!”
Just for the record, that had nothing to do with pooping.
Just for the other record, I don’t have any parts pierced either. ‘Cept my ears. And my nose, used to. Here’s the story.
When I was 14, my parents and I went on a trip to Pensacola, Florida. One night, I was walking along the boardwalk with some people I had met, and one guy with whom I had been flirting tells me, “You’d look really hot with a nosering.”
Like any self- respecting fourteen year old girl with her paws on an oldaboy, I squealed with delight and allowed him to pay for me to get my nose pierced. It didn’t really hurt that much at all, but my face was a little numb. We hung out until the wee hours of the morning. When I came to the hotel 2 and a half hours past curfew, my dad was standing inside at the door.
He looked at my petite little nose with the tiny black stud on it and said, “Your mother is going to kill you. Take that out before she wakes up.” In my fourteen- year- old angstiness, I said, “Why?”
My father then told me why by yanking it out of my nose. If you don’t know, noserings have a little curled up thing on the inside of your nostril. Good old dad caused me alot of nasal bleeding that night.
You can still see a tiny tiny tiny scar on my right nose hole to this day.
I still thank my father taking it out, even though he could have done so through less painful measures. But I suppose I could have chosen a less skanky piercing. Sure, back then it wasn’t skanky, but how many cute girls have you seen lately with a nose ring? The Indian chick in the skirt doesn’t count, Matt. But yeah, maybe one.
I think that nose rings turned skanky when Christina Agularia got one.
I haven’t seen loops in a couple of years though… those might not be skanky. I’ll get back to you on that one.
All that said, noserings on dudes are not skanky. Noserings on dudes are fine. Like fine china.
And no offense to chicks with nose rings. Just trade your stud for a loop and tell me how it works out for you.
But much offense to those of you with Tramp Stamps (R).
So last night, Alley Jo forced me into drinking a whole big bottle of Vault because for some crazy reason, I was tired at 2AM. I mean seriously, who wants to go to bed at 2AM? There’s so much to do in Union City, like Huddle House and Wal*Mart. Welp, I began to feel a little loopy.
“This bottle looks like something I would put in my ass… except bigger… much bigger.”
So today was Amy’s birthday, so after ballet we went to lunch. I wore my shirt that I got at CBGB, and Amy was ahem, “reading” my “shirt.” (That’s what all the others said, too.) Amy is a very smart girl, number one or 2 in her class, but she just doesn’t know much about music.
“CBGB… Crazy Bitch, Goofy Bitch.”
- Amy Sparkman
And here’s a classic:
“Bend ova and I’ll give you a thrill!”
Later in the day, Holly and I went running errands. She had to go to Wal*Mart for picnic items and cool stuff that I told her was on sale, and I had to go to EW James for cat food and Monday Bear stickers, and I also had to get my car washed.
Both Trixie and Pete are out of food, but Trixie is always trying to eat Pete’s food, so I really see no sense in buying both cat and dog food. I just put cat food in both bowls. They’re both happy.
A couple months ago, Holly went to one of those illegitimate modelling schemes where they round up all the hot chicks and take advantage of them, financially and physically. Her commercial audition was, “Mmm, this lemonade is perfect!” Of course, she passed with flying colours.
Anywho, I decided to treat Holly to Carribbean Cone after our busy day. She got cherry (of course), and i got, like I predicted in a previous blog, Barney. (giggle.)
What colours were Barney? Purple and green? Chyah. So what flavours would you expect this delicious icy treat to be? Grape and Green Apple, right? Chno.
So here I was, expecting ice with some Purple drank and green drank in it, and I got purple and banana! I don’t remember Barney beind yeller. Maybe my TV was messed up.
But that’s beside the point. Most of you know that yellow and purple make brown. As the chick was mixing the yeller in with the purple, Holly said, “Man, Liz, that’s lookin’ a little poopy.” It really was. They handed it to me, and I just cracked up. It looked remarkably like newborn baby shit. You know, all yellowy brown? Well, Holly doesn’t like kids, so she’s never changed a diaper. She said, “Oh gross. It looks like piss and shit mixed together.” I ate it anyway, occasionally letting out a “yummy poopie.” Then we get to the stoplight at Reelfoot Ave. and First St.:
“Mmm, this shitpiss is perfect!”
I’ve got to get that stuff again.
There will be pictures of this concoction as soon as Holly uploads her pictures from her camera. Mine is out of workin’ order.
So in conclusion, every time Alley Jo comes over, my kitchen smells like a dead breast for some reason. This isn’t a knock (ers) at her ginormous boobies, but dead breast is the first rancid material I could think of.
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