Pictures, Because I Care
I'm not in the mood for writing right now, however I know that you miss me terribly. TERRIBLY. Therefore, I bring to you pictures! Of stuff! To prove how stupid I can be and also things like: My face is going to fall the fuck off and people need to work harder at random acts of what the fuck.
First, we have Freakshow from Harold and Kumar 2 Something Something. I'm too lazy to link, that's what Google was invented for, right? Now, imagine a totally cute medium brown bob on ole Freakshow to the left. That is what my face feels like right now, with the exception of the fierce stubble. Hormonal changes are FUCKING with my skin. I'm embarrassed to see people at this point, and I am sure that 75% of the unhappiness is in my head. The other 25% is ON my head. What the fuck, people? Your face should not be so broken out it HURTS.
The next item of business is my brain. My new cell phone doesn't like to be used for an alarm clock, so I had to steal Chicken's. My only problem was that I occasionally (over and over again) hit the "sleep" button and the radio would turn on instead of the "alarm" button to set the alarm. The radio would blare and I would end up turning the volume down all the way in order to make it stop and then? No alarm. I touched every fucking button on that shit-assed alarm and could not get it to shut the fuck up. Then one day I found the "snooze/sleep off" button. Uh...duh.
I've also left the offending phone, my hands-free bluetooth thingy (it's the LAW in California, people!!), my favorite chapstick, one lone ear plug that TB's cat hasn't eaten and a pen from the MIL in the picture for your viewing pleasure. Welcome to the space next to my bed. Super exciting, no?
Lastly, we have a bit of art on my car windows that I found this morning on the way to a morning IMAX showing of The Dark Knight with my TB and Chicken. By the way, it was awesome but there was a character that was too much for poor Chicken. If you have seen it you can probably guess which one. Back to my car. It has four doors. The windows on all four doors were covered with nifty sayings. Like this one: "Hey girl let get your number" Now, I understand what the person is TRYING to say, however the way they went about it is all wrong. The other windows said: "Soo nice!!!" which is true. I am sooooo nice, right? Then we had: "I love you baby" and the kicker: "You make me sooo horney" While I appreciate the sentiment, and I understand that with a face like Freakshow I likely make many people SOOO horny I'd like to point out that horny does not contain an "E" anywhere at all. No E. None. Nada. And you can't have my number.
First, we have Freakshow from Harold and Kumar 2 Something Something. I'm too lazy to link, that's what Google was invented for, right? Now, imagine a totally cute medium brown bob on ole Freakshow to the left. That is what my face feels like right now, with the exception of the fierce stubble. Hormonal changes are FUCKING with my skin. I'm embarrassed to see people at this point, and I am sure that 75% of the unhappiness is in my head. The other 25% is ON my head. What the fuck, people? Your face should not be so broken out it HURTS.
The next item of business is my brain. My new cell phone doesn't like to be used for an alarm clock, so I had to steal Chicken's. My only problem was that I occasionally (over and over again) hit the "sleep" button and the radio would turn on instead of the "alarm" button to set the alarm. The radio would blare and I would end up turning the volume down all the way in order to make it stop and then? No alarm. I touched every fucking button on that shit-assed alarm and could not get it to shut the fuck up. Then one day I found the "snooze/sleep off" button. Uh...duh.I've also left the offending phone, my hands-free bluetooth thingy (it's the LAW in California, people!!), my favorite chapstick, one lone ear plug that TB's cat hasn't eaten and a pen from the MIL in the picture for your viewing pleasure. Welcome to the space next to my bed. Super exciting, no?
Lastly, we have a bit of art on my car windows that I found this morning on the way to a morning IMAX showing of The Dark Knight with my TB and Chicken. By the way, it was awesome but there was a character that was too much for poor Chicken. If you have seen it you can probably guess which one. Back to my car. It has four doors. The windows on all four doors were covered with nifty sayings. Like this one: "Hey girl let get your number" Now, I understand what the person is TRYING to say, however the way they went about it is all wrong. The other windows said: "Soo nice!!!" which is true. I am sooooo nice, right? Then we had: "I love you baby" and the kicker: "You make me sooo horney" While I appreciate the sentiment, and I understand that with a face like Freakshow I likely make many people SOOO horny I'd like to point out that horny does not contain an "E" anywhere at all. No E. None. Nada. And you can't have my number.Labels: Rambling, Stupid Twats, WTF
posted by Sam at
10:39 PM
8 Comments:
Well aren't you miss popular. Who the hell is crushin' on ya???
Well, Sam, I have to say I just
love the label you put this
post under - Stupid Twats -
And you are so right -horney with
that 'e' is just a turnoff.
Right them back and tell them that - although I can't figure out what that glittery stuff' is that they used.
Can't say I've seen it in Canada,
I know if I did, it would have
made mesohorney.
lol
Love ya Sam,
Cathi in Canada
Duh talk about spelling, - that would be write them back. lol,
well, then again, maybe not.
:)
Cathi who is now going to use the excuse of 3:07 a.m. for that one,
ya right? or write?
Night Sam.
Sam, of course breakouts hurt. The little pockets, slowly expanding, are like splinters getting infected.
You might try soaking with hot epsom salt compresses to loosen the skin (less tension, less discomfort) and relieve the swelling.
And remember, you don't squeeze to mush a zit, you pull - when it is ready to pop it will, without causing more bruising or erupting inward into the blood stream. I heard that on the radio.
Be brave, assume that people like you for your smile, not the condition of your skin. Don't explain squat to anyone that doesn't ask, and tell them the appropriate thing. A concerned parent gets a bare, "I am breaking out." A nosy non-friend neighbor gets, "Zits. I hate 'em. You want 'em?" Or maybe the other way around.
Consider this practice. If breaking out affects your social life, how will you handle breast feeding? Practice, dear heart, life is just practice, practice.
Blessed be!
Ugh, I was worried about that movie for kids! That's why I got in a big argument with a friend about it's PG-13 rating....he said kids would be fine I said I wasn't so sure...he was DARK! My 23 year old sister was scared...
And I know how beautiful FreakShow (Christopher Meloni!) is under all that mess and I'm sure everyone can see it under your temporary outbreak too :)
Baaahahahahaha!
For not feeling like writing, this was a funny post.
My sister was all like "Dark Knight is too scary for your 9 year old son. I'm a pussy. Blah Blah Blah," so I was all like, "Okay, fine I'll go see it myself and prove you wrong and take my boy to see it anyway, ya wimp," then we saw it and I was all like, "Hey, my 9 year old son can handle this..." until THAT CHARACTER. And now I've stopped talking to my sister so I don't have to admit to her that I won't be taking my 9 year old son to see it. Everything was rocking along fine until HIM. Geez.
So you don't know who wrote all that with bad spelling on your car??? Hmm. Hope the breakouts get better soon.
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