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…)

or Hey, Are You Going to Wizzie Man?

or Hey.  Give Me Some Fucking Weed.

or Hey.  Give Me Some Fucking Crepes.

(more…)

So the other day, I was in McCallie, and I remembered that I hadn’t pooped in over 24 hours. Then I thought about blogging, because I blog about pooping. Then I thought about what I needed to blog. Then I thought about how just about every time I start a new blog, I have to stop to poop. Then I had to poop. It was a miracle.

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So I had this other dream.  This one was about Lia.  She was in my dorm next to the elevators, and her ass was HUGE.  Really, really huge.  Like, unnatractive huge.  And she was wearing one of those long denim skirts like the pentecostal chicks wear.  But I snuck up behind her and grabbed it anyway.

I grabbed it real good. (more…)

So the other day, I’m walking back to my dorm, and I see this dude. I was pretty sure he was wearing high heels, but he was -definitely- wearing shorts, so I cracked up, out loud. But as I walked closer to this unfortunate looking man, I became more aware of his footwear– they weren’t heels atall. They were boots.

But still, boots with shorts, that’s pretty darn funny. (more…)

So I understand that most people don’t really like pooping at work. On the contrary, when I had a job, I loved pooping at work, because, seriously, where else can you get paid to poop?

But I think it helped that -I- was the one who bought the TP most of the time, and I never bought that John Wayne toilet paper that’s rough, tough, and won’t take shit from anyone.

I forgot to write a few weeks ago when I got a postcard from my SOA (or should I say, SOB) from CUSTOMS/ Freshman Orientation. In wretched handwriting and red marker ink, it reads:

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So as Matthew was driving me up here the other day, I realized that I don’t have to say everything that I think.
But I do have to blog it.

That said, Holly Holly Holly . I have a really good impression of her now.
I love how she tells Steve what he likes.
Matt tells me what I like. Matt = Holly, Steve = Liz. That’s why we all married each other the other night.
Right after Holly and I made out.
Just kidding, Holly’s hot dad.
We really did drugs, and lots of them. (more…)

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. (more…)

So a few nights ago, I offered to help an anonymous friend clean her house. Let’s call her lady.

Lady: Will you really?
Liz: Sure, I don’t have anything better to do.
Lady: Oh, Liz, I’ll eat your pussy.
Liz: *laughs*
Lady: You can’t blog that!

Just for the record, she didn’t. Sadly.

So I had this crazy dream last night. It was one of those ridiculous/ scary dreams: (more…)

Like And Then There’s Maude! You know… the show. With Dorothy from The Golden Girls. She was my least favourite girl.

I guess I just like shows and bands with ! in them. But speaking of bands with ! in them, check this out.

No offense, ballet girls:

We were listening to Panic! At the Disco before ballet, and they knew the songs…? Yeah. They had been getting old to me for about 3 weeks now, so I just stopped listening to the CD… but then I realized that I just don’t like them anymore. I mean, I’m just tired of the music. And, lets face it, (watch me as I make fun of myself) I just don’t like bands when they’re not “cool” anymore.

“Hey Liz, have you heard of that new band ______?”
“New? Psht. Yeah, like a year ago…”

I’m such a pretentious bitch. That must be the punk in me. (more…)