Monday, August 27, 2012

Popping Boobies, Sugar Daddies, and calling it like we see it!



The barf apocalypse didn’t hit!  Hubby was all worried that with me going away on my “teambuilding” event that the girls were going to explode like Linda Blair.    Since we have debunked that myth, poor hubby did get stuck shuttling them around, heating up my premade dinners, and having to do their hair for picture day.    

According to the girls, he did drop the “F” bomb on them a couple of times, something along the lines of, “I am not your FUCKING mother, I will not tolerate this SHIT.” 

All worries aside, home made it through three days with no ankle biters revolting.

I, on the other hand had issues.  (Shut up bitches)  I had “work” related issues with injuries:






I had to build a boat out of cardboard and paddle it in a nasty green lake.










I had to “team build” with a bunch of engineers who were very clicky.  (which, at the end, I have to say, ended up being kind of fun)











I fell.  In the shower.  I swirlied myself around the shower.  And then landed.  On my boob.  The noise was so deafening, I think that the others in my “bunkhouse” thought there was an earthquake in Oregon.  I did not cry.  I whimpered (quietly).  As I was twirling around the shower, I jacked up my knee (it looked like I had two kneecaps) and my boob was so hard and blue/green that I was a tad bit afraid.  I was afraid I might have gangrene and/or I popped something inside.  (After note:  Visit to the doctor only resulted in medal winner for fall, no permanent damage)













I flew a puddle jumper from Bend to Portland and almost died.  Hand to God - 
the little old Abeula next to me was clutching her rosary with many, many Madre De Dios’s later, we finally landed in Portland.


Where the airport had no air conditioning, and it was over 100.  Outside the airport.  Inside the terminal it was 150 degrees with 120% humidity and 1000% filled with funk.  Fail Portland, fail.


So this past week of working away at the soul sucking office, I have noticed a few trends that I would like to share with you all.


Regarding my spam mail – Why do I have 82 emails in less than 72 hours?

Apparently, I am full of moles (you CAN remove them easily, whew), I can mingle with the Christians (no booze, no swearing = no fun), I can look at photos of senior people (ack ack ack), I can blast my belly fat with cheap auto insurance, all this to go along with a psychology program.  If this isn’t my cup-o-tea, then I can look at a truck driving career, where I can use my AARP Membership (seriously you FUCKERS, I am not even 40 yet), eat delicious lobster while checking out the scooter store.  

If all else fails in my marriage I can always date those Millionaires in the Sugar Daddy Club.   82 shitty e-mails, thank goodness for delete all.

I honestly think the end of the world is coming - between these jackasses in the news killing people lately, to the POLICE shooting tourists in NYC, to the crazy drivers only concerned with themselves, and the general douchebaggery of the public - its APOCALYPSE ON BITCHES.

And in closing, I wanted to give a huge shout out to  Kelli  at Improperly Forward.  Her little some e-cards photo on facebook made my fucking day.  After calling my MIL on her bullshit comments (over due and LONG WARRANTED) There was a lot of angst on her end for being called on the carpet.   Kelli – you are my hero!












11 comments:

  1. On the bright side, sounds like your hubby's got a good handle on those girls, F-bombs aside....

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    1. Yeah, he does. It's really cute because my youngest calls him her "Pal". She will walk up to him and throw her arm around his shoulders and say, "hey Pal, do you know how much I love you today/"

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  2. I have done a series of blog posts based on replying to spammers, but there are some spammers I won't touch (for fear they'll ACTUALLY reply to me). Christian Mingle and AARP are right at the top of the list. What the hell is wrong with those guys... and HOW in the name of cartwheeling Jesus did I land on their email list?!?!

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    1. Marry Me Sugar Daddy just emailed me followed closely with Meet Senior Singles Online - not quite sure what this means!

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  3. So glad the peeps survived your time away without the puking. Although, now they have some saved up for a completely inopportune time and that's just gonna suck later. Let's not dwell on that today.

    I'm glad you enjoyed the ecards photo as much as I did. Funny, I too thought of my MIL when I found that pic. And every time I want to junk punch her or any of the other bitches I don't have time for in my life, I just look at that and laugh and laugh and laugh. Because I am obviously so much better than everyone else in the world. :)

    Seriously, hope your tits are back to normal. Sleeping with a broken boob is no bueno, Marsha. No bueno at all.

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    1. See Kelli - I knew we belonged together!

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  4. I *hate* spam email. I constantly get emails about how to "enlarge your penis".

    I don't have a penis. I'm not currently dating anyone with a penis - and anyone I dated with one never had access to my computer. My cat doesn't even have a penis. Seriously.

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    1. Exactly, why does my spam mail come addressed to my cat's penis...wait...what?? No, I meant, oh, never mind.

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    2. BTW I have a lil' something for you over at my blog.

      http://omylee.blogspot.com/2012/09/award-time.html

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  5. My breasts hurt! How do I recover from pain that isn't even mine to have?

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  6. Was there a part of the team building where you had to tell the clicky engineers about breaking your boob in the shower? I imagine this would provide much entertainment.
    Also, I'm really impressed with your cardboard boat. Can you build me a kitchen out of that?

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