Sunday, April 27, 2014

Why I'll never have a love child in a Photo Booth... Again.

My apologies once again for going MIA...  Again, again.  In an unlikely turn of events, I have shocked the world by obtaining a boyfriend.  And as it turns out, happiness is quite more of a distraction than one would think.  


Fear not, my friends...  I still may end up as a spinster.  I mean, once I unleash my full crazy on the poor lad, much like the Kracken, I'm sure my destiny to eat ice cream as every meal and wear moo moos with colorful wigs will follow.  But so far, he's cool with my crazy. 


I googled "Unleash the Kraken" and this picture came up.  And, as you all well know, I am a sharer.  And also, you're welcome.


But I digress... 

Not too long ago, my Stephans and I were killing zombies at a local Dave & Busters, having a grand old time when we came upon the most peculiar of photo booths.  Photo booths are always fun.  Hell, I've got a shit load of inappropriate pictures from them in my collection of things that my kids will end up finding in a shoebox in the back of my closet marked "Chicago" after I'm dead.  But this one was different.  This one was one that put together two people's features to create their love child.  


And who wouldn't want us to have a love child??


It was pretty much a given that she would be stunning.  She would be birthed in our awesomeness, so how could she possibly not be.  

Impossible.

Improbable.

Unfeasible. 

We had to know...  For the first round, we did our normal smilie faces and picked a brown haired girl child, since we were pretty sure that brown was our natural hair colors. 


Don't judge me by my hair, guys...  I think it was a rainy day.  Curly hair + Rain = Hot Mess. 


There was obviously an error in the calculations of this machine... What the fuck was up with that kid. She looked NOTHING like us!  So before we had to take the plunge and go on Maury to find out if she was truly my baby daddy, we decided to go for a second round and give even bigger, cheesier smiles.  We thought a red headed girl for the Round 2 would be the best option.


Are you fucking with me right now, Photo Booth?  Like our kid would even be allowed to pop her collar.  It's like you don't even KNOW us!!!


This was the point where we realized that there was probably something wrong with the machine.  Seriously though, what the fucking fuck??  So we went for Round 3 and chose a black haired girl child.  Only this time, we opted for the classic duck face move...  Because, for the love of all that's holy, this kid needed to have some god damned lips.


Oh, I see how it is, Photo Booth.  You little bitch... What is that thing growing on her eyebrow??  Is it a mole?  Is it hair?  Why does she look like she is smelling something unpleasant??


And then that happened.  I believe it was then that we then made a mental note to make sure that one of our insurance plans covered mole removal.  There was only one hair color choice left...  So we decided to go for broke.  At least we would get some kind of tax break now that we were on our 4th kid.  
 
My Stephans and I decided to give our best mug shot faces this time around.  This madness needed to end.  I mean, could you even imagine having 4 Jasmyns in existence??  Just lock me up now, guys.  It's for the best.  And I apologize in advance for the world domination thingy that would no doubt follow the maturity of my children.


I bet she sings like an angle...  And can knit the comfiest of blankets out of unicorn hair with her toes.


So, I guess the moral of this story is that...  Um...  Maybe if you keep trying, you'll end up with a pretty kid.  Or maybe it's that I shouldn't be making love children in picture booths anymore.  I'm not really sure I can keep that last promise, but I'll damn well try.



Monday, April 14, 2014

As it turns out, I'm not cured. Not even a little bit...

Before we get into this, I just want to remind you all that everyone has something they can't say no to.  Everyone has that one thing that sees into their very soul and knows how to manipulate them into thinking that it's all gonna be ok if you just have one more hit.  Surely this can't possibly be a bad idea, baby.  It's just you and me...  Just like always.  As it should be.  Forever.   
 
The problem is that once again, like a damn fool, I thought I had overcome mine.  

It all started when I went Easters shopping for the kids today.  

I was a fool to think that I was safe.  First that I could say no to their sweet goodness.  And then that I could stop at just one...

I was wrong.  I was so very, very wrong.


:o(

There are no words for my shame.  I can only go to bed and wake up tomorrow...  Rising from the dust of today anew.  Like the mighty phoenix.  

And then I will fly my fat phoenix ass over to Target and buy some more candy.  Since I ate what was going to adorn the baskets of the Easters for the children. 

I'm sorry.
 
It's not my fault.

They're delicious.

Don't judge me.  

Tuesday, April 8, 2014

What Happens in Vegas Ends Up on the Internets... Part Dos

When we last left our awesomely crazy heroine, she was into some shit...

I apologize for nothing...


Like I said in part uno, this shit is in no particular order.  So today, I'm bringing you into the journey of our first day.  For those of you who have been there, you know that time in Vegas is forever and means not a god damned thing.  What is one day there is actually a whole fucking week in regular people time.  So, when I tell you that we were literally up for 24 hours on the first day, you shouldn't be surprised.  In fact, I think this is exactly how most people's first days go. 


Well, with one exception anyway...


Most people don't spend their first day shooting the fuck out of shit in the desert.

But we aren't most people. 


Stephanie and I decided to do the Burgers and Bullets Vegas tour.  Let me say something right of the bat.  This shit was spectacular.  Not only was it fun because... well, HELLO!!!  GUNS!!!  But the team leading our mission was fanfuckingtastic. 


We were picked up at our hotel wicked early.  So early that poor Steph and I did not have a chance to get some coffee.  Which was fucking horrible.  Who wants to start the day off like that?!  Not us!!  So after a bit of "convincing" (that's code for mockery and whining), our fearless leader made a pitstop so that we could obtain the wonderful black gold that is coffee. 

Us and our fearless leader...  And if you're wondering what my shirt says, why yes!  It DOES say "I sweat glitter and cum confetti."  Because that's what ladies wear on field trips.


Then it was off to the Hoover Dam!   We got some great history on the ride.  I don't remember any of it, but it had something to do with hookers and blow.  Maybe.  I was too busy enjoying my coffee.


I'm on a dam...  I'm on a motherfucking dam.

So... yea yea yea... blah blah blah.  Let's spit off of it and move on to the guns. 


And guns there were!!!!


In case you didn't already know, I'm kinda bad ass.

Yes, that's a grenade launcher.

If I had a dick, I'd be pitching a tent.

And then, after you shoot your load all over the desert, they bring you inside and give you motherfucking bacon cheeseburgers, french fries and beer.  If there is a heaven, I'm pretty sure that this is it.


But alas, the day could not last forever.  And when it was all over, we met the rest of our crew at the pool for some drinks.


And I even got a tan!!!

Could this day get any better?

The answer to that is YES.  Yes it fucking can.

That evening we were off to a show!  


And then this was spotted...  A rare monarch butterfl... Oh wait.  My bad.  That's some idiot in a hideous shirt.  When did bedazzling come back, you guys?!?  Why did no one even bother to tell me?!?  Because I GOTS BEDAZZLE SKILLS, Y'ALL!!!  BEDAZZLE.  SKILLS.  I could be making a fortune on Etsy right now!!!

Unfortunately, we did not stay long.  Mostly because we learned possibly the most valuable of Vegas lessons in a matter of hours. 

Never.  Wear.  Heels.  To.  Vegas.

I don't care how adorable your dress is.  Wear flats.
Because no matter what, sooner or later you will be walking the strip with no fucking shoes on like a god damned hobo.

And even if you take a romantic Bellagio Foot Picture...

The bottom of your feet will still be cursed with the tears of hookers and thousands of lost hopes and dreams.  And probable fecal matter.

And people WILL give you the stink eye.  Oh yes.  There will be judging upon judging.  But gals like us can only take so much...  And then we come back like Chuck Norris in Delta Force.


Oh, you want to mock, motherfucker??  Then YOU put these god damn shits on and you walk.

That's right, pal.  Fucking strut.

Work it, bitch.

Now turn and give me crouching tiger.

WHERE'S THE FUCKING HIDDEN DRAGON?!?

Do you think you can honestly survive a day in this industry without knowing Blue Steel.

You hurtin yet, bro?

No, you cannot call your mom.

You wanna walk the runway again?

No?

I didn't think so.  Now, give me my shoes and get the fuck out of here.


I make friends wherever I go, you guys.  It's a curse.


I know what you're thinking right now...  This bitch is crazy.  But you're wrong.  And I have proof!  I made a reliable source take this short quiz to determine the depths of my insanity.

SEE?!?!  I'm totally fine! And now I have the paperwork to prove it!  And NO.  Stephanie did not take this quiz...  Ok, she did.  But I did not bribe her by use of alcohol...  Ok.  So I did.  But that's neither here nor there.  What matters is that...  Oh who am I kidding.  I'm fucking bonkers.  :o)





Sunday, April 6, 2014

It's Sunday Night... Which means Monday is waiting around the corner to cornhole us all

Hello my lovely friends.  You're all looking mighty Fiiiiiiiiine tonight.  Did you do something different to your hair?  It looks like you've lost some weight...  Whatever it is, keep that shit up.  Cuz you're fucking awesome.


Yes, I am trying to make you feel better.  Yes, it is because Monday is tomorrow.  No, I'm not drunk.  Although I wish I were.  Maybe the reality of Monday would sting a bit less.  


In order to further deter your attention away from what faces us tomorrow, here is some happy that I found on the internets.  These made me giggle.  I hope they make you as well.  If not, then you should probably have a shot of tequila and try again.  Then continue until you find this post hilarious.


You're welcome.


If I could give you all a gift to wear to work tomorrow, it would be this...  And a rocket launcher also.  Because no one fucks with anyone carrying a rocket launcher.  That's just how life is.

This is both hilarious and terrifying all at once.

It sounds so much better this way, really.

Here is a dash of ADORABLENESS for you all!!

I don't even know what to say here.  This isn't funny.  I know this.  But I need someone to share this horror with me.  I can't be the only person whom has nightmares tonight about a fat kid eating my legs off with his stomach face.  I just can't be.  Not again.

I'm pretty sure I saw a movie like this once.

 Nailed it. 

This is just spectacular.  I want to do this!!

It was probably a dick pic.

I won't lie to you.  I'd totally play this game.

If this is incorrect, don't tell me.  I'm bringing something in to the office tomorrow to popty ping just so I can giggle about it.

Every time I do laundry in my evil basement.  Every.  Time.

I didn't even like this guy until I read this.  Now I get why everyone finds him so attractive.