or Hey, Are You Going to Wizzie Man?
or Hey. Give Me Some Fucking Weed.
or Hey. Give Me Some Fucking Crepes.
Archive for the ‘Dance’ Category
Bonnaroo Blog Parts One Through One,
Monday, June 23rd, 2008hey shorty, it’s my birfday. i’m gonna party like it’s my birfday.
Friday, August 18th, 2006So I had the craziest dream last night. There was this huuuge party– Matt was there, his Mama was there, some big huge black guy was there, Cactus was there, and then a bunch of other people were there. We were doing lots of drugs, booze, and sexin’. Well just two of us were sexin’. (Me and Matt, FYI). But then the cops came, so the black guy took all of our drugs and put them atop this flag pole, so the cops couldn’t find them. Then, to cause a distraction, I threw my fancy bracelet on the tile floor. It broke into a million pieces, and then Mama started yelling at me and calling me stupid. Then the cop partied with us. He didn’t do any drugs, he just boozed.
So do you like my new banner? Matthew did it for me. He’s a genius. Click on the “Monday Bear”. (more…)
I can heal you, dad.
Wednesday, August 16th, 2006So 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…)
Hear You Me
Wednesday, July 26th, 2006So Matthew came over and suprised me. It was quite the adventure. He stayed for a few days, but left the day that my mom was coming home. What a coincidence. Anwyho, he’s still the best in the world.
You know how men are with their cars. You also know that I’m not dating a “man,” per se. (He’s better.) Matt was talking about some car, the Tesla, about how awesome it is, yeah yeah yeah, it’s pretty, it’s electric, it saves the environment, Liz hugs trees, yeah yeah yeah. Since Matthew isn’t really the car kind of guy, I figured this must be one hell of a car since he’s going on about it. I decided to do my own research:
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I’m dumb, she’s a thespian.
Friday, July 21st, 2006So I promise, with you all as my witnesses, that no matter how fat I get, I will always wear pants that are my size, even if I have to wear a size 48. And that’s big. I will never, ever, ever have muffin top. I swear to you.
Now, you don’t have to be fat to have muffin top. I’ve seen plenty of girls smaller than me with it. You just have to wear pants that actually fit you. I know it sucks to have to walk out of a store carrying the biggest size avaliable, but hear you me, you’re carrying those pants in a bag. Nobody else at the mall knows what size you wear except you and the checkout chick.
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Sad News + Regular Ole Blog Stuff.
Thursday, July 13th, 2006So if you haven’t heard, one of the most horrible things of all horrible things has happened in the past month. We heard forecasts of this event months ago, but we loyal fans have ignored these warnings and stayed positive, as we usually do. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I’m talking about Weezer.
And don’t worry, people, the mood of this blog will be less forlorn in a few paragraphs. (more…)
I saw drugs once.
Sunday, June 18th, 2006So when a man asks a woman out on a date, it should be understood that he pays for everything, at least up until the 5th or 6th date. He shouldn’t use the fact that he’ll pay for everything as a tool of persuasion.
Brad: Candice, please come bowling with me. You don’t have to pay for anything; I’ll cover it all. I’ll pay for your shoe rental, your games, and I’ll even buy you a drink. I’ll even drive all the way to Samburg to pick you up, and you don’t even have to give me gas money.
Hog: But Brad, it’s quarter night!
Brad: Well, Samburg is really out of the way.
If you were a kitty, I’d be the litter.
Friday, June 16th, 2006So just as soon as I write the blog “There’s nothing I hate worse than stupid myspace layouts”, Tom goes and gays up the whole front myspace page. Seriously, there’s nothing gayer than that. Nothing against superman, but geez, guys, a busy background never did anything but hide someone’s hips. And let’s face it– I don’t see any big hips around here!
*looks down*
So today, Emily called herself a “big woman”. I thought one had to be a big fat black woman to be called “big”.
Big is beautiful…
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wprd.
Wednesday, June 14th, 2006So tonight was dress rehearsal in front of a bigass group of 8 people. I just wish everyone would stop being pissy with each other and get along, like me and this lady.
“You know, Liz, if I could just feel you up and make out with you, it would make me feel alot better.”
- Lady
When I was in the fourth grade, Megan Dunn and I made a list of things that we wanted to do before we were eighteen that our parents wouldn’t let us do. I hid my list under the TV. Here it goes: (more…)
Seventy- two.
Wednesday, June 7th, 2006So this is number 72 of all of my posts here at mondaybear.com. Well, two of them are Holly and one of them is Matt, (Rock the Cock and “On it”) I was going to celebrate with a Flashback blog, much like on The Golden Girls when the writers couldn’t think of anything, but I could actually think of something. We’ll save Flashback Blog for post #111.
“I’d like to share some of my favourite memories with Trevor the Vampire.”
Or maybe the real 72. Depends on how little or how much pops into my head. Or why don’t you sit in my lap and I’ll tell you about the first thing that pops up.
Oh, snap.
So today, Emily kicked Ms. Sacchi in the breast.
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