five reasons you should have your own shitler

lately i've been seeing/talking to what seems like a crapload of people (when really it's like three because hi - i don't have many friends) who are just living the shit out of the single life.  and while i can respect the single life for the solo-living and the fly by the seat of your pants type of decisions that mean you don't ever have to run anything by anyone i have to respectfully disagree about being single.

and cool your jets.  because this is certainly not an ode to loving shitler because i'm not, nor will i ever be the type of girl that thinks her husband/finance/boyfriend/whatever farts sparkles and rainbows because that guy farts and it's nasty-town, usa; population: shitler. but here are five reasons you should have your own shitler.
personal butler there's always that awkward moment when shitler isn't home and my wine glass is empty and i'm just fucking lost as to what happens next.  do i wait for him to get home so he can pour me another glass?  do i *gasp* do it myself?  should i call him and see what his ETA is?  HELP ME.

as you can see he's bringing me both my bra and beers.

joint checking because misery loves company.  i'm broke, you're broke, etc. there was a time in college when apparently i didn't know how money worked and just spent coinage like it would magically replenish itself.  needless to say it was quite the deep hole i had to dig my way out of and i had to do it all by myself.  but now that shitler and i have joint checking it's nice to sit and commiserate with someone that you can't pay your bills, you can't do anything fun, and also your bank account is negative.

just a couple of kids regretting that whole college thing.

a partner in crime that doesn't have a vagina and no - i'm not the type of girl that's all "OMG i sooooooo don't get along with girls" and yes having chicks around is nice.  but when you live with someone and you're almost always on the same wave length it's just one giant relief.  i mean do you know how often "so do you just want to stay home tonight and be a piece of shit?" gets said in the shitler household?  the answer is "a lot."  and not to mention having shitler is the perfect person to talk shit to.  first off he barely listens to me so i can just rant till the cows come home and second he's like a vault and the key to said vault has been lost a long time ago.  i never, ever have to worry about shitler double-crossing me and revealing my deepest hatred for my mortal enemy.

i do like to think we can have an ok time together.

having to be social is exhausting
i could sit and listen/live vicariously through everyone else's single life for the rest of my natural life but there is no way in hell that i actually want it for myself.  i imagine that with dating comes the need to shower on a regular basis and/or give a flying fuck; neither of which i can be bothered with.  and i honestly cannot fathom having to consistently talk to new people or date new people.  it could be my inherent laziness shining through but i am, and always will be, a creature of habit.  i want my couch and my shitler (and sometimes i don't even want shitler).

i mean could time is the best time. and so is hand down the pants time?

they're stuck with you

HAHA sucka!  you asked me to marry you and i already called "no take backs" and now you're fucked.
those terribly disgusting sweat pants you can't bear to part with and wear constantly?  ya - they have to suffer through being around them.  your whining on a regular basis?  welcome to the thunder dome bitch.
my bullshit? well - now it's your bullshit. and i don't even feel bad about it.  because now they're in it for the long haul and it kind of feels like you secretly won the lottery (except you're still broke) because you can be the terrible person you really are and they have to just accept it.

i mean - you'd date us, right?

in closing i realize that these reasons aren't very good reasons for wanting your own shitler but oh well.  i guess the real question is did i actually convince any of you?

another winneconne day is done

i feel weird today.  it could be because it's currently sunday and i'm semi-sober and writing this post. ya - that's probably it. besides being achy on account of the fact that i continue to behave like a some sort of twenty-one year old frat boy on the weekend my allergies have decided to rear their ugly head and punish me further.  so let's see how this post goes. i think my favorite thing about wisconsin is that everyone thinks it's like the goddamn arctic circle year round. like just because we have frigid winters means it's like this frozen fucking tundra all the goddamn time. except it's not - because we have these things called seasons and the summers are typically hotter than ballz. as in stepping outside for a hot minute (pun intended) makes living almost impossible because you think the humidity is actually going to choke you.  so naturally planning a boating excursion for a  in july shouldn't be a problem.  except it's not even a shock that on a july day in wisconsin it would be fifty degrees out and goddamn freezing.  but we wisconsin folk are not quitters.  so we boated in the cold like the adults we are and drank all the things.

that's all i got.  more crap happened later and some of it's on ginstagram so check it out if you want.
and today is the day the entire blog world talks about their shenanigans so naturally i'm at sami's place.

p.s. remember that gypsy village in the movie snatch where brad pitt hung out?  i was in the wisconsin version of it on saturday.  i'm sad to report that brad wasn't there.

free lap dances here

so like maybe it's friday.  and maybe i'm excited because hello i just have to work tonight and then i get to go cruising down a river all day tomorrow and just get shit drunk.  and i just want to do that all the time.  so maybe we should all just retire and pool our money together to buy some sort of house boat with a giant hot tub and a hot captain and first mate that will just navigate the waters for us while we pop bottles.

who.is.with.me.

BUT ANYWAY we can get to planning more of that later.  in the mean time we high-five things, pay homage to all the big booty hoes of the world, and watch videos on repeat.

1// i'm not even going to apologize for posting that picture.  because in my defense if i had to suffer through it then so do all of you.  because shitler not only sent it to me when i was at the gym causing me to almost fall off the treadmill but he also posted it on facebook, tagged me in it, and captioned it with "someone's excited for mommy to get home."  we suffer together blog friends.

2// speaking of the gym.  i went three times.  hated each of those three times.  i hope in the future there will be the type of technology that allows people to diet and exercise on someone else's behalf and then that lazy person that's not doing anything will just reap all the benefits.  in a perfect world, right?

3// if someone tells you to roast corn and then mix it with goat cheese and then put it into quesadilla form and top it with green onions and salsa verde - fucking do it.

4// all signs point to a healthy and joyful relationship.

5// i've said before that mac is freakishly obsessed with me.  which, in turn, annoys shitler because basically whenever i'm around it's as though shitler isn't even on mac's radar.  i think this is shitler possibly saying "WHY WON'T YOU LOVE ME?"

i'm not going to reveal the amount of times i've re-watched techno jeep but i've spent an obscene amount of time mentally drafting my techno jeep team.

i wanted to go back into my high school music vault for a song that would make my parents proud. plus who doesn't want free lap dances and who doesn't love n.e.r.d.? let the backing up of my azz begin.  holler back whit.

maybe do the opposite of what blu cantrell tells you to do

confession: illegally downloading music makes me anxious because i'm convinced i'm going to be the person that metallica decides to make another example of and then i'll be fucked.  so naturally i spend way too much money on itunes.  just ask shitler because i think if he could punch me in the face for how much money i spend on music and get it away with it/"teach me a lesson" he would.

but the point is that paying $1.29 per song is sometimes a little rich for this poor bitch's budget so naturally when i sometimes stumble on the .69 cent sale section i get a little turned on and start frantically downloading every song i've ever heard and like semi-liked.  enter blu cantrell's "hit 'em up style" to which i frantically started getting teeny-bopper excited about and chanting "this is MY JAM."  but after actually listening to it like thirty-seven times i was a heap of teary-eyed giggles because that shit is terrible and it's no wonder 16-year-old-shannon loved it.

some thoughts on the obviously insightful lyrics:
"i was beamin' in his beamer just beamin'" in the event that i ever get an actual beamer i must constantly be "beamin'"

"and on the way i grabbed soley and mia"
who actually names their kid "soley."  i would automatically not be friends with her.  on principle.

"i was coming down the hill and just draggin'" ok dragging because you're depressed he's cheating or drag racing?  please clarify.

"and i paid all the bills about a month too late"
that seems excessive.  was you name also on the bills?  won't that affect your credit?

"when you go then everything goes from the crib to the ride to the clothes"
please see above.  is everything gone because you were a month behind on the bills and you got evicted and your shit re-possessed?

"all of the things i sold will take you till you until you get old to get 'em back without me"
was your man a hoarder?  because that's a lot of shit to sell if it will take him that long to get it back.
"when your man wanna get buckwild just go back and hit 'em up style" what is hit 'em up style?  like is that calling him?  is buckwild code for cheating?

"get your hands on his cash and spend it to the last dime"wait - does this mean stealing?  do you just take the last $20 left in his wallet or clear out his accounts?

don't let that face you fool you.  that bitch is crazy and will f your shit up should you cheat on her.
so ya - blu cantrell - not your finest moment.  mainly because it's confusing and looks like a lot of work and some of it (should you provide some clarification) is, i think, frowned upon by the law.

p.s. some drunk fool nominated this shit for a grammy.  i hope said fool was fired.
p.p.s. blu was the chick singing the national anthem in "drum roll."  so you're welcome because i know you want to watch it now.
p.p.p.s. apparently her mom used to make her blue birthday cakes since that was her favorite color (FYI her real name is tiffany).  how original.  my favorite color is green (in case any of you care) so maybe we should think of a new name for me related to that fun fact.
p.p.p.p.s. i was googling pictures of blu and for whatever reason a picture of jesus at the time of the crucifixion popped up entitled "the last temptation of christ."  you figure it out.

this probably explains nothing

if i were in the business of making recommendations i would recommend not drinking two-thirds of your meals out on a boat.  on a sunday.  when monday = work.  especially when you've agreed to work a shift at the restaurant.  as in after your regularly scheduled 8-hour day job.  as in you're terrible at life.

speaking of being terrible at life (heyyyy segue) - have you ever taken a moment to evaluate your life and then been, not disappointed, but perhaps just apathetic.  like "huh - this is it hey?"  but then i thought more about maybe why that's the general consensus about life around these parts and i've come to discover that it's mainly because i'm the least motivated person i know and also because at any given time my priorities are just whacked. so i present to you three reasons i'm terrible at life:

reason #1 - improper thoughts = at any given point of my day i'm thinking about my couch and usually mentally counting down the hours till i can be back on it again.  this also applies to tacos.  i'm 100% the person that makes plans and then secretly hopes you cancel them so i don't have to get off of the couch.  except to get tacos.  i would get off the couch to get tacos.  have you ever heard that dane cook bit where he berates his friend for thinking about creamy treats all day and that his life is a wreck as a result of thinking about creamy treats all day because of it (youtube it if you haven't)?  that's me - except swap out creamy treats for my couch and all the tacos in the whole wide world.

reason # 2 - improper motivation = me only being motivated by short-term/instant things.
diets?  i'm terrible at them.  i need instant gratification with the least amount of work possible.  i need to lose twenty pounds but i only want to work out for maaaaaaaaaaaybe ten minutes every day.  maybe every other day.
i'm also super good at being motivated by booze (which is counter-productive to dieting and/or being healthy).
promise me free drinks in order to get me to do something?  i'll have it done in five minutes or less.  forget me doing something because it will be beneficial to me (like dieting and not being a fat ass for my wedding) but hey - if shitler dangles a bottle of wine in front of my face and begs me to just one load of laundry so he can actually wear some clean clothes then consider it done like five minutes ago.

reason # 3 - improper intentions = me doing like the worst things knowing full well that the outcome will be complete shit (which coincidentally is the definition of insanity so maybe this explains everything).  see: drinking on a school night.  see: eating an entire bag of chips in one sitting.  see also: both of those things while sitting on the couch waiting for someone to bring me tacos.  sometimes my improper intentions means poking the bear for my own entertainment.  and by bear i mean shitler.  sometimes it's just plain fun to whack people with the proverbial stick to get some fucked up reaction for your own amusement.
so there you have it.  the three convoluted reasons i'm terrible at life. chasing your dreams?  sounds exhausting. being apathetic? sounds perfect.
now bring me a taco.

read it & weep - i got this title from twitter

you know that lead with the chin jut-thing people silently do towards each other that i think means "hey" or perhaps "you know" or "that's what's up."  i'm fairly positive you have no idea what i'm talking about because my mind is a cluttered place of nonsense but basically this morning on the drive to work i hit shuffle and one of my favorite songs of all time came on.  FIRST.  it's like friday was high-fiving me and all "girl - you got this."
and by "got this" i mean:

i'm kidding.  kind of.

but kids - it's friday and that means we made it.

in reviewing my week i realized nothing spectacular happened.  worked out a couple times - yawn.  had some super inappropriate textual conversations with people - hilarious.
shopped for lots of penis paraphernalia - normal.
so if i had to pick five things to high-five this week these would be them:

1// just looking at that tulle makes me want to upchuck.  and i can't even blame being drunk as to why i thought getting glittery tulle was a good idea.  because now it's on every.damn.thing in the house.  including the hounds.  and shitler.

2// mac does these ridiculous poses.  like sometimes he's all fancy with his one paw sticking out, and then sometimes he's doing yoga poses like downward facing dog, and sometimes he stares at a toy so hard that you know the only thing he's thinking about is just destroying the shit out of it.

3// so.much.dick.stuff.

4// nothing like getting propositioned by your friend's seventeen year old step-son.  to be fair - i would have for sure headed right over had shitler not just oiled himself up.

5// and tiny shitler.  i cannot even handle it.  like at all.  because he has the most devious look on his face in every picture of him as a young one.  it's just the kind of face that screams "i fucked some serious shit up earlier and i'm just waiting for you to discover it."

you know how you know you're old?

when you begin to forget the bus trips to and from your high school soccer games where you and all your hardcore teammates used to jam OUT to oukast.  but i'm bringing that back today.

here's my azz and here's me backing it up.  just picture it in your mind.

about blaming it on the a-a-a-a-a-a-alcohol

i'm overwhelmed by the happenings of the weekend. mainly because of snapchat and my inability to use it because i'm an idiot. half-kidding.  the alcohol intake was overwhelming too and it's slightly vomit-inducing looking at some of the pictures from the weekend because it takes me back to that drunken place that i enjoyed in the moment but 110% did not enjoy the next day.  or three days later.  you get it. i fear i'll lose you with the amount of pictures i'm about to inundate you with but whatever. deal with it.

friday i bailed on work at noon and went to try on swim suits because my friend john mayer (and not it's not the actual john mayer but you people keep saying that's who he looks like) has my favorite one and hasn't yet returned it because apparently his mom's house is a black hole that eats swim suits.  and in case you're wondering - hell is kohls at noon when your fat ass is trying on swim suits and you can't help but want to cancel an entire weekend boating trip because hi-you're-a giant-whale-hippo-hybrid-thing and you don't want to face the actual outside world in a swim suit.  so naturally the only thing that's left to do is drown your sorrows in booze for the two hour trek to waupaca and the chain 'o lakes.

things got infinitely better upon arrival because it was time to get on a giant boat and drink copious amounts of beer and generally stop caring about anything.  which, coincidentally, i'm pretty good at.

and then naturally, since i was now intoxicated, it was time to basically start being a camera whore.

and kudos to whoever on twitter (JESSA) so kindly pointed out that they could tell i was drunk based on the barrage of ginstagram photos that came roaring across the internet on friday night because it made me drunk giggle.  a lot.

saturday marked the downward spiral that would be the rest of the weekend.  as in - i set out with the best of intentions of not getting completely hammered but that didn't happen.  somewhere between drinking, swimming, boating, and not applying enough sun screen i got sun burnt to the point of immense pain.  which, you know, is always a treat.  but in the meantime here are the nice pictures i managed to snag.

p.s. sorry about the double duck pictures.  i'm like a kid in a candy store when it comes to ducks.

p.p.s. when intoxicated i tend to have the incredible need to make terrible faces in pictures.

p.p.p.s. also when intoxicated i inherited the need to channel my friend and drunk hang.

sunday was ridiculous.  shitler and i had the wherewithal to take off on monday so we managed to sit in a boat that was attached to a pier that was part of a bar and just drank and listened to fantastical live music the rest of the day.  it was the shitler shit show basically.

in case you were wondering about the above dance party it was just shitler breaking it the shit down to sweet caroline.  like a professional.

and this picture might be my favorite picture of shitler ever considering that face he's making while peeing.

no pictures were taken on monday because i was barely alive.  barely alive and burned to a very burnt crisp.

i blame everyone else.  someone should have been more diligent about putting sun block on me (side eye - SHITLER) and maybe someone should have not over-served themselves (side eye - ME).  regardless.
there are other pictures/videos on ginstagram should you want to pretend to care.
in case you don't care i certainly don't blame you.

in case her link up is still live i'm going to go hang out with sami.  but since i'm incredible late on my assignment i wouldn't be surprised if that shit is over and done with.  SEACREST OUT.