Monday Bear

So I just realized that I could never have a pager. You know why? Because I never call people back. If you’ve ever called me, I’ve probably not called you back. Don’t take it personally; I just tend not to call people back, just like some people tend to bite their nails or poop themselves. It’s just a bad habit.

My mom used to have a beeper when she was a social worker. I was seven. I thought that was just too cool, so I saved up my money and got a plastic beeper filled with bubblegum. (more…)

So Erick came over today, right as dad was dropping me off at mom’s.  I invited him in to stay for a few minutes to show him my iDog, and I just realized:  That was the first time my whole family, all four of us, have been in the same house in over four years.

Even though I really know that my parents hate each other and there will never be any kind of resolution for their dispute, and I know that my dad and my brother have hated each other since my brother’s balls dropped, it was still really nice to have everyone in the same house again.  It was for less than five minutes, but it was still really comforting.  Just like it was when I was 6 years old.

Sorry, I’m being gay. (more…)

So I have this friend… Let’s call her Hairy. Hairy just did it (and I don’t mean poop) for the first time a bit over a month ago. Welp, the other day, she just called me to tell me that something went horribly awry. You know what I’m talking about. She told me to guess, so this is what I guessed:

• You’re pregnant. No.
• Paul broke up with you. No.
• You made an A in ______. No.
• You made an F in _______. No.

Liz: I give up.
Hairy: Come on Liz. It’s something you’ve done before.
Liz: Oh Hairy, you dirty girl! I can’t believe you! Oh you slut! (more…)

So many of you may be thinking, “What the hells is Liz doing blowing blogging twice in one week? She hasn’t done that since high school!”

You’re right.

I dropped out of college to go back to high school. Mainly because college didn’t give me enough blogtime.

(more…)

So one of my friends, who just happened to be a lady of colour, told me why alot of black girls don’t like me. It’s because black guys like me. Black guys like me because:

a.) I have red hair, and
b.) I’m shaped like a skinny black girl.

She says they don’t like me because we’re stealing their men and whatnot. That’s kind of a gay reason not to like someone, but I suppose it’s kind of like how it kind of bothers me when Matt says things about other girls, unless the other girl is my friend.

Kind of.

(more…)

So geez louise, who would have thought I would have gone 2 weeks without blogging? You all have missed much pooping, concerts, etc. Welp, I could be eating lunch right now, but noes. I’m blogging for you assholes.

Oh, and if you tried to call me in the past two weeks, my mom has my cell phone. She’s mailing it back to me as we speak, though.

So here’s some stuff: (more…)

So I’ve concluded that the last blog sucked and I will never ever EVER do that again. I just wanted to see what would happen if I blogged a semi- serious blog, and you know what happens? I get one comment. One measley comment. From Zephyr.

Did anyone notice that I started my blog with a similar phrase to that with which I usually end my blog?

Did anyone notice that that was worded totally weird for the sake of not ending a sentence with a preposition? (more…)

So we all assume things to make us feel better, whether you like to admit it or not.
Example: You go to a public rest room, sit on the potty, stand up, and find a pubic hair on the seat. Of course, you assume it was yours, seeing as you didn’t see it before you sat down, and your keen eye would have noticed it, right?

Welp, this happened to me about a week ago. (And yes, you’re right, I haven’t blogged in over a week. Colleen seems to be the only complainer, though.) I went to the potty [and most of you know that I live in a dorm, so my only potty is a public (or should I say, pubic) one.]. When I stood up, I noticed a pubic hair on the toilet seat. No big deal, right? Just assume it’s yours, right? Wrong. I would assume it was mine, but egads, everyone knows Liz’s pubic hair is traffic cone orange. And not an inch and a half long. I trim that junk.
I shuttered, but then made an assumption of my own to make myself feel better: (more…)

So I realize it’s been a while, but damn you, I’m a college woman now, and I’ve got shit to dos.

See, you can tell I’m in college, because I used “damn” and “shit” in the same sentence.� And I just fucking did it again.

Oops, I did it again.

So of course, I’m sure you’re all dying to know how my pooping schedule is since I’ve moved to a dorm.� Welp, as opposed to the usual 3 a day, I’m down to two.� That has something to do with: (more…)

So after discovering that I’m a bird, lion, bunny, and a Canadian, I’ve decided to grow a fur coat. Actually, I just haven’t shaved my legs in two weeks. I’ll do it tomorrow. Maybe.

Speaking of fur coat, mom and I went shopping for things for my dorm room last night. We had about 5 different rugs on the floor of Target, stepping on them barefoot to see how each of them felt. There was this one that was really really furry, like a bear rug.
Liz: I don’t like this one. It feels creepy.
Mom: Yeah, it’s like walking on Matt’s back.

: ( Now that’s hitting below the belt. So I smacked her with my bag. (more…)