Tag Archives: classy

I Scream, You Scream We All…Back Dat Ass Up

25 Jul

On Friday night Hubby and I decided to meet Drama at his favorite bar for a few drinks after work before we went to dinner.  Drama’s been working some really long hours so we didn’t think we’d be there long.

Three hours, a bowl of peanuts, three staggering trips to the bathroom, and several drinks later, the three of us are loudly and obnoxiously discussing our favorite of Drama’s ex-girlfriends.  Hubby voted for the woman who used to scream into the phone when she would call, “IS DRAMA THERE?!!!”.  We used to joke that she must be deaf. Then, we found out she really was partially deaf.  Awkward.

My pick was the woman who used to drive the low rider ice cream truck complete with spinning rims, and a noise ordinance-breaking sound system:

She would drive around town in this pimped out ice cream truck while blasting songs such as “Back Dat Ass Up” and Kelis’s “Milkshake“.  But, wait.  It gets classier.  She used to have a penchant for thong underwear, and if some kid was lucky enough to order the Sponge Bob Square Pants popsicle, he would also receive a up close and personal view of most of her ass crack.  It was like two treats for the price of one.   

I digress.

Drama’s newest interest is a woman he works with.  According to him she is beautiful, nice, and funny.  The problem?  We’re not sure if she’s a man or a woman.  You see, the rumor at Drama’s work is that this woman is a cross dresser.  No problem. 

Using Drama’s experience with classy women and my experience with tranny’s we came up with the following comprehensive “Chick or Dick” checklist which we wrote out on a bar napkin.  Keep in mind that Drama can’t get a up close look at this woman because he heard in the last sexual harassment prevention class that getting too close can be “creepy”:

  1. Tell a funny (not dirty) joke.  Does she responded with a Geisha-like giggle or Santa Clause belly chuckle?
  2. Do her hands appear soft and delicate or are you looking at gnarly sausage  fingers?
  3. Is there ever any adjustment of a “package”?

That’s it.  That’s all we got.

I was going to call Drama this morning and tell him he should just follow her to the bathroom, but I decided against it.  I’m curious to see whether or not our Chick or Dick checklist works.  I’ll keep you posted.

P.S.  I missed you guys.

What? Wednesday- Who Run the World?

29 Jun

 I love Beyoncé.  I’ve watched this video for Beyoncé’s “Who Run the World” many, many, many times. 

I also love Cubby very, very much.

What? Wednesday- If This Buggy’s a Rockin’ Don’t Come a Knockin’

22 Jun

Being a pervy sexting pedophile is not funny.  Being a pervy, sexting Amish almost-pedophile is a little funny.

I hope Little Willie Yoder was in the Witness Protection Program, and that his cover is now blown.

Last Will and Testament of The Coolest Guy Eva’

21 Jun

I had another post all ready to go for today about bathroom phone calls and dealing with the inevitable flush, but then I read this new story, and thought I would share the heartwarming, heartbreaking, tear-jerker with you. 

Here are the CliffsNotes (do these even exist anymore?)  for those of you who just don’t have the energy to move the cursor to the link and double-click, for those of you who are reading this at work while your boss is on his phone in the bathroom and want me to just hurry the F up and get to the point, and for those of you who just don’t car fer da’ readin’ (what are you doing here?).  The article is about a 24 year-old British Royal Marine solider who was killed in Afghanistan.

In his will, this British Royal Marine solider (who I love without ever having met him) left approximately $150,000 to his friends for a big Vegas send-off.  He asked his friends, who have been grieving for over a year, to take the money and do it up gangsta’ style in Las Vegas in his memory.  He asked them to spend every dollar, rent the most expensive room, eat at the best restaurants, go out and party, and remember him while they’re doing it.  (If you’re not at least tearing up yet, please check the battery on your robot heart).

Or course there are those who have a problem with this.  But, I don’t care about those losers.  This kid also left his family money, and left a significant chunk of change to his favorite charity which helps disabled veterans.  So, suck it losers.

This young man put his life on the line everyday and realized, more than others, that life is a gift, and that it is way too short.  If he wanted to treat his friends to a weekend full of drinking, debauchery, gambling, dancing, Cher, and a possible orgy, then who the hell are we to judge?!

Personally, when it’s my time, I want people throwing themselves on my coffin-  because they’re really drunk and they know I would be cracking up at such a spectacle.  I would also want my friends to attempt a gospel version of  Madonna’s “Like a Prayer” while really pouring on the “soul” during the choir part.  I’m laughing just thinking about it.

How would you want to be sent off?

*A-hole-ish P.S.:  This is not a forum for you to debate your political views.  We all have our views, and we are all entitled to them.  The thing is, I just don’t want to read them here.  If I have offended you, then let me remind you that this is an a-hole-ish P.S.  Get over it.

Oh Niner, Niner. I Sound Like an A-Hole. Over.

17 Jun

A client called this morning for my email address.  My email address contains a few “M’s”, some “C’s” and a “D”.  These particular letters are oftentimes mistaken for other letters of the alphabet which means I usually have to use the phonetic alphabet to spell out my email address. 

I can’t stand doing this because I don’t know the phonetic alphabet.  I get really nervous having to come up with something, and I always end up sounding like a complete:

I– as in, ummmmmmm……ice cube?

D– as in dog (easy).

I– as in (long awkward pause) intervention.  Yes, intervention.   (You’ll note that I didn’t use “ice cube” again.)

O– as in (OMG!  I can’t think of anything that starts with an “O”) Oklahoma.

T– as in toe-ma-toe  (classy).

See what I mean?  Over and out.

Summer is….Precious

16 Jun
It’s a beautiful day in Wisconsin.  I’m wearing a t-shirt, jeans, and flip-flops. 
 
At lunch, I went outside to get some fresh air and stretch.  As I bent over to stretch my back and touch my toes, I noticed that in the bright afternoon sunlight I could clearly see a stray hair on my big toe.  (If you don’t have this problem and can’t relate, you’re perfect and I don’t think we can be friends.)
 
Normally, I wouldn’t care, and would just take care of it when I got home.  However, after work I’m heading straight to a parent meeting at Son’s school where I will most likely be sitting next to Mrs. Manicured-Pedicured-Real Coach Purse-Escalade-McPriss. You know the type.
 
So, being the McGyver McGruber I am, I made a bee line for my tape dispenser and applied several strips of tape to the problem area. 
 
Nothing.  It didn’t even hurt.
 
Naturally, I moved on to the packing tape.   That stuff is heavy-duty and sticky.  
 
Nope.  Nada.
 
At this point I started to panic a little because I really didn’t want to go this parent meeting with hobbit feet. 
 

Classy

 
Just then, I remembered I had a band-aid in my purse. 
 
♪♫Awwwwwwesooooooome!♪♫
 
Everyone knows that a band-aid can rip the s*!t out of your hair/skin. 
 
It totally worked.  And it really hurt.
 
P.S.  Why didn’t I  just cover my toe with the band-aid?  Because I’m much to classy to walk around with a band-aid on my foot.  Sheesh. 

What? Wednesday- I Couldn’t Have Said it Better Myself. Seriously.

15 Jun

This. Is. Perfect. 

If you can honestly tell me that you have never thought this very thought at one time or another when caring for your own child, niece, nephew or any kid you have ever tried to put to bed then you are a perfect person, and I don’t think we can be friends.

What? Wednesday- Beware of Frisbees and Pilgrims

1 Jun

I keep expecting the cheesy late night Cinemax Skin-e-max “boom-chicka-wow-wow” music to kick in, but it doesn’t.  This, is even better:

P.S.:  Great ass, pilgrim.

Video via Buzzfeed

No, I Didn’t Get Raptured. Just Ripped.

1 Jun

What’s up Interweb?!

So, yeah.  I took an unexpected hiatus.  I basically took a hiatus from everything including, but not limited to, cleaning my house, yard work, and checking anything off of my To Do List.   Things I didn’t take a hiatus from include eating ice cream, reading some really good books, humpy time with the Hubby, and piña coladas.

Since my last post, I am now the mother to an adorable, but extremely a-hole-ish, new puppy!  I forgot how much work a puppy can be, especially when you end up with an a-hole like Kemba.  Obviously, I love him, but he’s sort of evile.  As a matter of fact, as I type this I can hear his evil puppy growls and snarls as Hubby sternly repeats, “Kemba!  No bite!!”.  This has been going on for about 20 minutes.  We better break that dog’s spirit soon or I’m afraid we’re going to end up with a complete dickhead of a dog.

I can’t wait to read what you guys have been up to.  I missed you.  Seriously.  I’m not just saying that because I’m drunk.  As my classy girl, Snooki, would say, “I love you so much, I want you to get it in”.

Jersey Shore, Bitches!

What? Wednesday- Wild Man Cat Found on Subway

18 May

Back story (as made up by yours truly):  This guy thinks he’s a cat- a wild man cat.  He goes by the name of Muffins, and purrs when you shake his hand.   He also poops in a man-sized litter box.  He buys his litter in bulk.

Don’t worry, though.  He’s a classy man cat, and refuses to give himself a man cat bath in public.

But, he will clean his shoe.

Video via Buzzfeed.