Monday Bear

So although I feel as if I’ve been farting silk organza for the past six months planning this wedding (not complaining), I’ve really gotten down to it lately.  I’m talking about calling/emailing vendors, and anyone who knows me personally knows how much I hate communication.  After all, my -1 year anniversary is coming up (August 7), along with my birthday (August 5).  To celebrate, I’ve made a Lizt of things I’d like for you to get me: (more…)

So I’ve got this idea:  They should have ride-on vacuum cleaners.  Like the lawn mowers, you know.  I wonder why they don’t.  It would make cleaning much more exciting, making my house much more clean.

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So my New Years resolution is to keep track of mine and Matthew’s money (ours?), because I don’t right now. And if someone were to steal my identity, I wouldn’t even realize it.

Because I’m that loaded.

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So I forgot something else I want for my birthday, which was 10 days ago: new belly dance apparel. And new pointe shoes. And a cat box, because I have TWO. NEW. KITTENS!

Just for the record, I expected you to read that aloud and with enthusiasm, much like people do WHEEL. OF. FORTUNE!, if you couldn’t tell by the boldness and capitalization. If you didn’t read it aloud and with enthusiasm, I advise that you go back and do so. I think you’d appreciate it much more.

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So I have a new MondayBear.com contest. Anyone who gets my name “Liz” or “mondaybear.com” tattooed on their person gets 50 cents. Either that, or they get to give me 50 cents. Or both. But that wouldn’t really do much, except get you a tattoo.

Oh, and you have to pay for the tattoo.

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So I can’t freaking believe this shit. I’m missing Dr. Phil because I can’t work the damn damn television.

Edit: Matt helped me figure it out. Too bad I missed the good half of it. Anyway, tomorrow is anorexics. Should bring back funtime memories. Mammories. Should make me feel very good or very bad about self.

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So I just googled mondaybear, and this is what I found:

One of those stupid myspace glitter graphics comments things.

But at least now people can spread the good word, right?

Is it sacrelig that I called mondaybear.com “the good word?”

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So I just woke up from this dream where there were several kitties asleep in a box. They were all about 5 inches long, and I was the same size, sleeping with them.

So when the Chili Peppers came to Nashville, I got to go. I also got to go backstage.

Man, anytime I’m going to blog, I’ve got to poop.

“How you gonna make somethin’, and then it’s gonna burn?”
- Mary

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So I’m warning you: This is a pretty raunchy blog, and if you’re under the age of 16, or are related to me, or are a med school admissions person, I prefer you not read this particular entry. I will find out if you do. Especially you, little Brenda. I’ll tell your mom about your myspace page…

As a sidenote, I’m wearing a bracelet that is next to impossible to type in.  So I take it off.  Now I can type.

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So as a woman, out on her own, not living with her mother, I have learned one thing and one thing alone: tampons are damn expensive.

So I’ve decided not to menstruate ever again, or at least until I become President of the northern hemisphere and make tampons free for everyone.

Everyone except boys.

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