lizards, and cats, and dogs - oh my

heyo.  i'm sure everyone in all the land is happy that it's finally the weekend.  i'm less than impressed.  only because i work the whole weekend and that's literally nothing to be jazzed about.  but things have been bouncing around in my brain and there's really no rhyme or reason to any of them so it's kind of like "hi i'm just going to dump these thoughts here and make you think all my thoughts with me."
1// sometimes when i look at my desk at work and it's littered in papers that i may or may not have put there/know what they are/don't know where to start it kind of makes me want to just "file" them in the trusty recycling bin.  like a swooping motion of grand proportions where i'll be satisfied that i will never have to deal with the repercussions of my alternate way of filing.  and by repercussions i mean furious customers and/or getting fired. 2//  speaking of work.  it's been really hard not to respond to every single email i've received this week with the following picture:

3//  am i the only person in the whole entire world that's mostly excited that i got married because it means lower car insurance?  i swearsies that every girl i see is like ZOMG so excited for the pictures and shit but i'm all LOWER MY CAR INSURANCE RATES BITCH.

4// my work just announced they're doing a company wide picnic at the zoo.  and i'm freaking pumped.  i'm almost more pumped to be able to tell shitler that one of his lifelong goals will finally come to fruition (keep in my mind i was just informed of said goal this past monday).  what is it you ask?  getting annihilated wasted at the zoo.  and no - it's not like we need to wait until a company wide zoo function but hopefully work will just foot the bill for all the expensive beer shitler will cram down his gullet.  also - i got drunk at the zoo once upon time.   but i was responsible and smuggled my own vodka in and then mixed it into my zoo slushie in a bathroom stall.  LIKE AN ADULT.

5// so it was my birthday this week.  and no i'm not one of those that makes a giant deal out of it because there is literally no point in celebrating something that literally happens year after year after year and just propels you further towards old age and inevitable death.  so since i don't care about birthdays much at all i don't ever expect presents.  but then sometimes someone hands you two jars of pickles and you thank the heavens that you're one year older because it means someone gave you pickles as presents.  shitler said he bought me something.  and he also said that he ordered it like two days before my actual birthday.  and then he also assured me i would really like it and that it would be here sometime this week.  so then i got really excited and all GIMME GIMME GIMME.  but then he checked the order last night and it said not to expect said shipment until the week of june 9th.  WOMP WOMP WOMP.  also - this fucking asshole didn't get my anything.  which is rude.  see also: QUIT GAZING AT ME YOU GAZER.

6// lastly - i don't know where on the internet i found this picture but i need to know who this cat is and what level of ping pong playing skills he's working with.  because i will challenge him.

and now i must take leave of this space.  but first i leave you with this song.  because i wish i was back on boat belting it at the top of my lungs (also linking up with whitney).

how much fun is too much fun?

so thursday, ya?  that's weird.  and also nice. because, you know, short work weeks make just about everything better. except coming off this holiday weekend where i spent my time getting drunk at a wedding, and then getting drunk on a boat, and then getting drunk-ish by a pool, and then getting really super wasted for my birthday and at one point i'm almost positive my liver cried "uncle" but i just disrespectfully ignored it and took another experimental tequila shot the bartender cooked up.  but that's neither here nor there.  because the boat day was one of those days where things didn't stop.  and from reviewing my pictures from that day it was just a lovely natural progression of drunken shenanigans.  and i thought i would share those with you.
early on shitler was giving lap dances and mounting things.  these types of things happen with little or no booze normally but usually quickly escalate when alcohol is added.  so naturally this picture should surprise no one.

boating all day is exhausting.  ask anyone.  but then you get even more tired when you spend a majority of a boating day blasting 90s jamz and singing along to every damn song and knowing that all the other boats are totally jealous because they can have their hardcore rap music that will eventually make everyone's ears bleed and you will gladly take things like the cranberries, savage garden, sophie b. hawkins, and any and all early boy band stuff.  and then your voice is hoarse and you realize that you'll need more drinks in order to lube it back up (please direct your mind to go directly to the gutter as that was my intention when i typed that sentence).  but you pause, mid-drink-making and snap an obligatory sunset picture.

and then you continue to drink around a bonfire.  but everyone gets tired and heads to bed.
and you're left to your own devices with shitler to commence the walk home (which is like six whole blocks).  but it's important that you stop half way at the bar in order to get a drink and stay hydrated.  and it's there at the bar that you're reminded how old you are because the music is loud and everyone there must have literally just turned twenty-one, and the way they're dancing is offensive to your eyes, and you're also convinced that had there been no clothing separating them that someone would have surely left the bar pregnant.  and then a man decides to stand so close to shitler that you're almost positive shitler is going to lose it right there in the bar.  and then another drunken young man offers shitler chips and salsa but he offers it to shitler by cramming the basket right into his face.  as in it's touching shitler's face and shitler says nothing and then the drunken boy slurs to you "he's going to kill me, isn't he?"  and then you just shrug and lol.

and then you decide to take leave of that bar because it's begun to make everything hurt.  like your whole body.  and you traipse drunkenly home.  and then something incredible happens.
by the grace of god someone has left a bathtub out on the side of the road.  and naturally you have to do nothing but hint at the fact that shitler should totally get in the bathtub and then he gets in the bathtub.  naturally.

and then you get home and straight pass the fuck out.  because you have had a big day.

also - one of those pictures wouldn't size to the way i wanted it for the life of me so it's just going to stay the way it is because i don't even care and also i have better things to do.
like not blog.

doing things makes me tired

i had every intention of writing something worthwhile today. maybe even something with nice pictures even.
BUT then i got sucked into still trying to recuperate after getting back from mexico (and yes i know that was over a week ago).  but being that i got back late last wednesday night and then worked the two following days at my day job, then had the pleasure of being scheduled a closing shift at the restaurant (of which i didn't arrive home till almost 1AM), and then had to be up at 5AM the following morning and at my parents by 7AM so we could drive 45 minutes to my littlest brother's college commencement (where a stranger touched me and i wanted to scream STRANGER DANGER! MOM HELP ME!), and then had to hightail it the fuck out of that town and speed back home to change and shower my dogs with a brief moment of attention, and get my ass to a wedding with a replacement shitler.  which, in retrospect, is like way better because i totally like replacement shitler a lot more than actual shitler.

replacement shitler is also shitler's cousin

so naturally when it was gorgeous out on sunday here in wisconsin and every single person was ZOMG'ing about the sunshine i was holed up in my house with the curtains drawn, rocking back and forth, and muttering nonsense to myself.  kidding.  i was obsessing over season one of the americans and frantically trying to devour the vampire academy series (three cheers for young adult books that make me feel like i'm thirteen years old again).  and then i passed out at 8PM because i had to be up and on my way to chicago at the butt crack of dawn for a tradeshow.  but it was a tradeshow i literally just ate my way through.

so here we are.  it's like a slight recap of everything i wish i really hadn't been doing but was doing out of obligation but also some stuff i actually wanted to do.  does that make sense?  no?  whatever.

there are other stories that i would like to tell you.  like the time i probably for sure watched a dead man get dragged out of the ocean, and maybe also a story about a drunk-ish bridesmaid, and maybe also about a wedding photographer that spoke no english.

but in the meantime i figured i should take this blindingly white ass of mine (because unfortunately there was no nude beach in which to tan that sucker in while we were in mexico) and link up with whit.  for like old time's sake.

married ladies get black out drunk too

last night shitler was like "are you ever going to blog again?"  and i was all "look hus-BITCH (i think that has nice ring to it) - I DO WHAT I WANT."  but really i would like to blog.  i would like to tell everyone my mexican tales but my couch looks so lonely when i get home from work and the last thing i want to do is navigate the monstrosity that is our laptop and honestly eating chips and watching the americans sounds more magical. and i didn't actually call him hus-bitch.
but now that it's out there and i like the sound of it i might just start using it more.
but today i would like to tell you the story of mexican blackout monday.
i need to preface this post by telling you that i am a morning person.  and before you exaggeratedly roll your eyes because who actually enjoys being up at the crack of dawn let me explain that i'm a morning person because it's the one time of the day when shitler isn't awake and i have complete silence and i don't have to actually deal with anyone and can put off the inevitable brain bleed that will be the day.  and being on a mexican vacation was no different. shitler would sleep till 10, 11, or 12 and i had all the time in the world to lay in bed and read my smut/contemplate whether or not i felt like getting handsy, watch some mexican national geographic, or hit the breakfast buffet all by my lonesome.  and it was on that fateful monday that i probably should have stayed far from the breakfast buffet because it was there the shenanigans began.  
that morning i decided to visit the buffet and straight up carb load (which was also no different then every other day after the wedding and i didn't have to fit into that damn white dress) and apparently i felt like celebrating a two-bagel and cream cheese breakfast with mimosas.  and mimosa after mimosa after mimosa tend to go down really, really well when you're just hanging out eating bagels by yourself and reading smut on your kindle.  after i was good and breakfast buzzed i traveled back to the room to bother shitler.  after finally rousing him from his slumber we had to wait till the buffet turned to lunch so he could eat and i could drink my lunch.  which i did.  in the form of white wine.  i'm not sure how other people's other halves are but shitler is the kind of guy that as soon as he's done eating wants to get the fuck out of dodge.  and i'm the kind of person that doesn't mind lingering and having an additional bottle of wine.  and the wait staff at our resort had no problem never letting me see the bottom of my wine glass at that particular lunch.  p.s. it was also super fun to consistently have more wine every time shitler returned to the table.  especially when i could tell that he was getting antsy in his pantsy to leave.  especially when he was done with his dessert and i decided that i needed dessert wine since he got dessert food.  p.p.s. i lost track of how many glasses of wine i ingested at lunch.
but i digress.  because after my liquid lunch i was now lunch drunk and shitler wanted to walk on the beach.  and mainly for me it was stumbling along the beach,taking thirty-seven pictures of rocks, and admiring nice asses.  and then documenting it for all eternity.
I MEAN REALLY ARE YOU KIDDING ME LADY.  #DatAss

eventually i got bored with the physical activity and i was hot and i just wanted to go in the pool.  so i negotiated a return to the resort wherein i could pee in the pool visit the restroom and take a dip in the pool and then continue on a beach walk in the opposite direction of the one we had just taken.  but at the pool we made friends and started talking.  and then i decided having long islands was an appropriate idea.  and then our new found friends were like "WE SHOULD DRINK WHITE RUSSIANS!"  and i was like "OMG THAT IS A GREAT IDEA BUT LET ME FINISH THIS SECOND OR THIRD LONG ISLAND FIRST."  and then we had white russians and it was then that my black out occurred.

because according to shitler i was passed out in the room at 4PM, and much to my chagrin, 100% don't remember what i'm sure was me being one sloppy bitch as shitler attempted to corral me back to the room. what i do remember is waking up around 8PM confused, but wrapped in a bathrobe, and i attempting to eat a french fry and promptly fleeing to the bathroom to expel it from my system.  on account of the same day hangover i was experiencing.

and then the next morning i had to suffer through a massage.  which, if you're wondering, a massage while you're hungover is terrible.  because it literally feels like the puke is being massaged out of your body. #FirstWorldProblems 

photographic evidence of my passedoutedness and also shitler is creepy.

salutations friends

there's not much to be said. except that i'm back.  back from two glorious weeks in mexico where the only actual tough decision i had to make each and every day was whether to go to the beach or go to the pool (and also actually follow through on the "i do's" because of that pesky marriage and whatnot).
so i just wanted to say hi. and that there are stories and i will get to them and also pictures and also mainly an incredibly overwhelming neediness to get back to mexico.
but in the meantime i leave you with this picture. a picture of a man and his beach bag.

hashtag i die.