Wednesday, January 30

real talk: nuptials

ok who is planning my wedding?
that's a legitimate question.
because christi offered and then so did this girl that once peed on me like four years ago.
and i have yet to see anything of substance.  
from either of those two sluts.

it's not that i'm panicky about the wedding.
it's that i'm panicky about having to plan absolutely anything.
like what is with the people on facebook with the pinterest, and the save the dates, and the invites?
it looks tedious and terribly exhausting and like it would drive me to drink.
which i already do enough of so it's not like i need any other reason to indulge in booze.

but seriously.
can i just issue a mass text and have people meet us at the courthouse steps with a dish to pass?
and by dish to pass i mean a bottle of alcohol for my own personal use.

i'm also convinced there aren't enough of these weddings:

invite me to your goddamn cat wedding!  via
i'm also convinced that people should stop asking me when i'm getting married.
if you're important - i'll tell you.  until then - knock it off.

my only requirement for my wedding is that it's filled with nonsense.

what was your wedding like?
a nightmare? a dream?
a giant fucking regret?

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Tuesday, January 29

no one even lambeau leaped. or is it leapt?

with all due respect - weddings are exhausting.  and this one wasn't even mine.
but i think it takes a lot of dedication to strap in and stay committed to binge drinking.
in honor of the wedding.  obviously.

so here are some non-iPhone pictures.
and don't worry.  the quality might be nicer but everyone is still just as drunk.

that's all i've got.
because i'm still recovering.
and yes - i'm aware that it's tuesday.

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Monday, January 28

lambeau field drunk

i for sure woke up still drunk yesterday morning.
which is why i think i didn't feel like too much trash.
but then - as my residual drunkenness began to wear off the hangover set in.
and i'd like to think it was lambeau sized hangover courtesy of lambeau field itself.
but i blame the flasks i BYOB'd in.
and also the shots.
but seriously - a wedding at lambeau field is definitely the least terrible thing i've experienced in awhile.

i like to think that we part-way contributed to aaron rodger's annual salary after shitler spent $38 on four shots of cumchata.  YOU'RE WELCOME AARON.

but here are some delightful iPhone pictures.
and to answer the obvious question - yes i am drunk in each one of them.

in retrospect - we probably didn't need to go to the bar after these photo shoots.
but we did anyway.
where i promptly got into an argument with a bartender.
it went something like this:
me: may i have a vodka red bull?
bb (bitch bartender): yup. 
me: this tastes like shit.  can i have some more vodka in it please?
bb: *shoots me some major eye roll, grabs my glass, and walks away to hopefully put more vodka in.*
me: i still can't taste the vodka.  here's $5.  can you please pour a shot and then pour it into my drink.  but right here.  where i can see you.
bb: *more eye rolling and then shot pouring*
bb: are you sure you're not just too drunk to taste the alcohol?
me: where's your manager?

nasty little bartenders with shit for attitude aren't going to get very far.
as a rule - if i'm drinking at a bar i like to be able to taste the alcohol in my drink.
and furthermore - if i'm willing to pay for something that i've already paid for just so you'll keep the eye rolling to my face to a minimum i don't think that's asking too much. 

and this is how everyone felt the next day.
i blame that extra shot i paid for.

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Friday, January 25

high five 4 friday

typically everyone's favorite day of the week is friday (and sometimes saturday). 
but not me.  
mainly because i have to work at that hellish restaurant and deal with people's bullshit.
so although i will be high-fiving friday today with lauren at from my grey desk  and doing a friday related thing with christi from diary of a blonde newlywed i need you all to know that if i could marry tuesday night - i would.
because shitler has bowling and that makes it the most glorious night of the week.
no shitler means i don't have to catch flack for watching seven straight hours of bravo shows that i've already seen.  don't you judge me.

but i digress.

1.  in case anyone was wondering if i like wwe wrestling - i want you to know that i do.
and i also enjoy buying action figures that i don't need.
and i also enjoy finding this kind of aisle at the store.

2.  so once upon a time there was a cat that lived at our house.  and i loved him.
charlie was his name and being fucking weird was his game.
i took a picture of the very first meet and greet of charlie and shitler and it was 
basically the most hilarious picture of all time.

so when charlie went to live in a swank condo in downtown milwaukee i had the picture developed and used it as my bookmark.  until one day when we were at the new home of our friends and shitler pilfered the picture and put it in one of their empty photo frames.
for the record - one of the residents didn't realize there was a weird picture of a cat and shitler hanging in their home for a month.  and also for the record - it's still there.

also, this has nothing to do with this week but i wanted you to know anyway.

3.  i found this old picture of shitler this week.  and are you even kidding me devil child?

4.  this probably would fit better into high-fiving next week but i'm too excited to wait till then.
shitler and i will be attending a wedding this weekend.
a wedding at the most glorious place on earth.

5.  in scrolling through all my pictures for this for this last week i realize that i did nothing of substance.  like not one damn thing.  unless you count watching twelve hours of pretty little liars as something with substance.  which it isn't.  so you'd be wrong.  and mainly just makes me feel like a lazy loser.  which i am.  but i think the most important thing in life is just accepting who you are.  and i have.  in which case means i'm way ahead of all you people trying to "become better people."
so anyway - in an attempt to wrap up this convoluted post i leave you with this.


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Thursday, January 24

the night laundry ruined my entire life

laundry is basically my worst nightmare.
i hate it with every fiber of my being.
like hate it so much that i'll let it pile up for weeks and then when i finally have to buckle down and do it because i should stop wearing the same pair of socks for three days there is literally so much laundry to do that i'm overwhelmed and just throw in the proverbial towel (because all the other ones are dirty) and lay on the couch.

but the other night shitler was all "are you ever going to do laundry?"  and i was all "maybe sometime."  and then he was all "well, this my last pair of socks so maybe sometime could be tonight."  and then i was like "OH MY GOD FINE."  
so after shitler left for bowling i begrudgingly headed to the basement.
down these harrowing steps.

yes - i risk my life every single time i drunk-do-laundry and lug clothes down this death trap.
after surviving the steps i headed to the wash machine and twisted the knob at least three times fully around and then pulled out the knobby thing.  but no water came out.  only this weird "murrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr" sound.
so naturally - i fist pumped.
because the "murrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr" sound meant frozen pipes and frozen pipes meant no doing laundry.
but then it dawned on me - i was on my last pair of underwear.  DRAT.
so a bottle of wine and a few hours of blasting the pipes with a tiny space heater later i was back in business.
three-quarters of the cycle later - out of business.  due to frozen pipes on the drainage end.
at this point - i'm basically convinced that the universe just doesn't want me to do laundry.  because now i'm forced to fish out my necessary undergarments out of gross, freezing cold water till my hands are basically frostbitten.  worst.night.ever.

but fear not - things have thawed since then.
both my hands and my pipes.

and some clothes are clean.  finally.

but this spaz keeps drooling all over everything and in turn giving me more laundry to do.
shut your drool mouth DOG

p.s. i finally found the one bra i own.  shockingly - it was at the bottom of a giant pile of dirty clothes.

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Wednesday, January 23

boats and hoes: a splash of summer in these dark winter days

it's a marathon.  not a sprint.
the tie up, that is.
it's important to remember that when attending the annual okauchee lake tie up.  
but i suppose it's difficult to hold to that when you start with this:

and i'll be honest when i say just looking at this makes my liver hurt.  
but then smile fondly.

so for mainly for my sanity during these insane sub-zero winter days let's revisit the tie up.

and every day i'm reminding that the internet is a fantastic place.  
because if you want to see nasty, dirty style photos of the tie up - you can.
so here's a taste:

via - i'm not sure.  it's just not mine.  let me know if it's yours.

i suggest everyone go to something like this.
for research purposes.
and blog material.

a lot of people sprinted.

Tuesday, January 22

the facts - but not all of them.

i love me some whitney.  her wine guzzling ways just means she's a girl after my own heart.
so i linked up with her over at i wore yoga pants.

enjoy.  or destroy.

1. if i didn't ever have to leave the house - i wouldn't.
i.e. i'm the most anti-social person ever.  like don't even bother asking me to do something because chances are i'll tell you "no" or make up some insane reason about why i can't.

2. do not call me on the phone.  and do not leave me a voicemail.
both are the bane of my existence.

3. i'm terrified of roller coasters even though i've never been on one.
like so terrified i was the only one in my high school physics class that didn't go on the field trip to six flags.

4. one time when shitler was out of town i got drunk and shaved a racing stripe down the back of one of my dogs.
needless to say - shitler wasn't happy.  
BUT - i like to believe that the dog was more aerodynamic and therefore faster.

it was this dog. and in my defense - he was probably drunk too.

5. i can't stand hand-writing the number "4."

6. my dry sense of humor often works to my advantage.  as in very few people take me seriously when they ask why i don't hang out with them anymore and i either tell them it's because they're annoying or that i hate them.  
then they laugh.  
then i just shrug my shoulders.

7. shitler almost never calls me by my name.  
and when he does he usually uses the "shanny" version and it never fails to freak me the fuck out.

8.  i am anal about almost nothing.  except for judging people.  
i'm anal about judging people.  like - i do it a lot.

9.  shitler and i tell people that we've been together for twelve years but we've told people that we've been together for twelve years for like the past three years so i think we've been together even longer than we think.

10.  my parents didn't get married until i was five.  and then after they did get married they never got around to changing my last name on my birth certificate from my mom's maiden name to my dad's name.  and when i was nine or something i found my birth certificate and had a goddamn raging identity crisis because i didn't think my dad was my real dad.

my youngest brother.  who is weirdly tall and talks like a rap star. so maybe we're not related AFTER ALL.
11. one time i was at a strip club and just wanted to be nice nice and give the cute packer cheerleader stripper a tip.  instead i was molested.  like yanked onto the platform, breast exposed to the rest of the patrons and my boob licked my lulu the whack job stripper.

me pretending to defend myself should lulu approach again.  but who are kidding - i enjoyed it.

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Monday, January 21

that saying about good intentions, and the road to hell, and paving

my weekend began with the best of intentions.
like when i told samm "i'm gonna try really hard to not drink this weekend."
and then she just cackled in response.
i was productive as shit on saturday  morning and then worked.
and that's where things went awry.
because you tell yourself that you're not going to get drunk and then all of the sudden it's
3AM and you realize you've just photographed an all-male dance party.

so i failed.  miserably.
please see below.

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