Monday Bear

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…)

So I was just down to my skivvies, shimmying my way to cardio health, when my mom’s friend comes in. Just as I was beginning to really enjoy my new Cardio Fitness Bellydancing DVD, I’m interrupted by an unwelcome guest. And what does she say? “Put some clothes on, girl!” Right. I’ll put some clothes on if you wash the dishes. Then she has the huevos to make fun of my choice of fitness. Hey, fatso, at least I exercise. Competitive hotdog eating doesn’t count as a sport, by the way.

So if any of you haven’t realized, when I disappear for a week at a time, I’m usually with Matt. It’s that damn love and cuddling and sex and blackhead- picking that keeps me away from my blogging. And I thank all of you who sents me birfday wishes/ presents. I’ll get back to you soon. ish. And you’ll all be bloglisted. Soon. Not tonight. But soon. (more…)

So I’m babysitting right now. Four of them. My usual three, plus a 5 year old smartass. I finally got them to lie down. I put on Harry Potter and put two of them in time out. It’s been a really rough day for all of us, obviously.

I hate it when people say “needless to say”. If it’s needless to say, then why say it?
People always said “needless to say” in those Most Embarrassing Moments things in Seventeen Magazine. Remember?

I also hate it when people say “I could care less.” It really should be “I couldn’t care less.” Because if you could care less, then you actually do care a little bit.

Really, I just wish that people would think about what their expressions mean before speaking them. (more…)

So I just got back from my grandparents’ house in Mississippi. Whenever we went out in public, to everyone we came across, my grandmother would say, “This is my granddaughter. She come to visit us from Tennessee.”
“Great. We have more trees,” said the guy from the grocery store, who according to Gramma, couldn’t take his eyes off of me.
That made their… year, probably. Nobody ever comes to see them, which is precisely why I drove the 180 miles to go there. I got a big ego boost while I was there. Grandparents are always proud of their grandchildren. Especially when they live in Saltillo, MS. I’m going to college, haven’t been knocked up, I’m not on drugs, and I’m not fat.
That’s why Gramma kept saying that guys were looking at me. I doubt they were. I’m not attractive when I’m in Mississippi. Nobody is. The grocery store dude could have been looking at me for several reasons: (more…)

So Kathryn’s in the kitchen right now cookin’ me some breffis.  She knows a woman’s place.

Really and truly, I haven’t seen this little lady in over a year, and the perfect situation arose (or should I say, aroused) for us to hang out.  And so we did.  With Valerie.  And her widdle boobs.  Watching late night Oxygen.  Trashy “romance” stories (AKA, really bad softcore pr0n).  ‘Twas a night to remember.

GOOOOAAALLLLL! (more…)

So I must admit, when I come to mondaybear.com and click on Site Admin, I get quite a rush. A power rush. Like the kind of power rush I get when I tell small children to go into the kitchen and make me a sammidge.
So I had the craziest dream about Monday Bear. Most of you know how difficult it is for me to differentiate between dreams and reality. Here’s an old story from way back:

Jade and I had been planning to go to NYC, and we planned on seeing Spamalot while we were there. Welp, I had a dream that my mom bought us tickets to see it. I woke up, not realizing that it was just a dream, so I went to school telling everyone that I had the best mum in the world, because she had bought us tickets to see Spamalot. (It should have been a dead givaway that she didn’t really buy them for us when I remembered that they were just $4 each.) When I came home, I gave my mom a big ass hug (not a big “ass hug”, but a big ass hug), and she asked me why I was being so nice. Welp, when I told her, she informed me that she didn’t do such a thing, and that it must have been a dream. Alas.

(more…)

So the results are in… MondayBear.com is the third most popular site on the interweb, right after pr0n.com and DrPhil.com.

I’m telling you though, I’d get so many more hits if it was NakedLiz.com instead of Monday Bear… but who can resist that cute little fuzzy bear face?

So I’ve been really stressed out for the past week. I wish I would go ahead and start my period, just so I could stop this PMS mess.

Way to start out on a gross note, Liz.
While I’m at it, Matthew and Justin raised this question:
Does a Monday Bear shit in the woods? (more…)

So I’m nekkid in someone else’s house at the moment.� Matt’s house.� Well, Matt’s mom’s house.� It would be different if it were just Matt’s house, but no, I’m naked in the home of his mom, his stepdad, Colleen, and him.
Well, I’m actually wearing underpants, because I was looking at this website about this nudist colony that I was thinking about visiting, and I was reading the rules, and one said that towels had to be used at all times when sitting.

How embarrassing.

I think at certain times, we should ignore the fact that we leak fluids.� At certain times, we should ignore the fact that we have genitalia.� But most of the time, we should embrace our genitalia.� Not nessecarily by showing it to strangers on the street, talking to our grandparents about it, or, say, piercing it, but just being comfortable with the fact that girls have jineys and boys have peni.

(more…)

So is there or is there not such thing as creepy hot(t)? There’s creepy, there’s hot(t), and according to Liz, there is, indeed, such thing as creepy hot(t).

Here are some examples of creepy:

• They guy at the park with the long hair combover who mumbles “compliments” to you.
• Those 50 year old guys at metal shows.
• Blind dates with a lazy eye.
• Clowns.
• Not showering ever.
• Boys doing exceptionally nice things for you.

Here are some examples of hot(t):

• Kissing all rawr.
• Cool shoes.
• Matthew.
• Good sex.
• Nice fancy dates.
• Boys doing exceptionally nice things for you.

(more…)

So we know I don’t ever like to bitch, but I have a serious problem with girls who work at Sonic.  (No offense, Holly or Matt’s cute friend Naomi.)  They are conniving, tricky bitches.  Let me explain.  This has all happened to us at at least one point in our lives:

You and a friend order some drinks and onion rings on a sweltering summer afternoon.  A girl in khaki shorts and a dumb visor carrying a tray walk close to you, but no luck.
Another one.  You examine the contents of the tray:  2 drinks and a box in a bag.  She walks past you.
Another one:  2 drinks and a box in a bag.  She walks toward your car.  She then looks at the receipt only to realize that she was walking the wrong way.
Another one: 2 drinks and a box in a bag.  You look at her and her tray with wild fried onion- craving eyes.  She looks back at you.  Your eyes meet.  It’s like you’re spiritually making love to this angel in the ponytail who is bringing you your nourishment.  Instant chemistry.  She keeps walking and gives your order to the middle aged guy in the red Camaro.
What a bitch.  She knew what she was doing the whole time.  She just wanted to toy with you.
Another one:  1 really big ass drink and 3 boxes in 3 bags.  She comes to your car.  It’s the wrong order, but you don’t fucking care.  You’ll never talk to another teenage girl wearing roller skates as long as you live. (more…)