Because I Like to Lick Him?

i forgot about this picture:



chances are we were hammered.

the night shitler tried to cripple me

there is never a dull moment whenever shitler is around.  drunk or sober or asleep.
the 3rd of march was his 28th birthday.
here is a photo prior to our departure from the bar:

here is a list of shit he muttered/slash thought i cared to hear:

• alabaster gray
• springtime fluff
• wintertime cherishness
• remember your graduation tassel?  i feel like the end of a tassel.  i feel so fluffy.
• can i bite your titsies?
• your tits are butt-tastic
• remember shel silverstein?
• it's like a superman gift box inside of a space shuttle.
• i want to go bed.  i don't like this anymore.
• fucking shel silverstein.
• i could randomly state crazy things that you could write?
• you're writing this too?  goddamnit.

then an hour after this - he flailed in his sleep and cracked me in the spine.
then shouted obscenities.
like i said - never a dull moment.

Textual Feeling: For Once, I Feel Worse Than I Look

me: i'm pulling the trigger tonight.  2 shots to prep for the pain.
b: i wish you luck my child.
me: i'm terrified.
b: i'm terrified for you.
me: but it can't be too bad.  i have piercings and tattoos.
b: one would think.  it's just violently ripping hair out of the most sensitive part of your body.
me: oh god.  i'm going to puke.
**
me: good lord.  she's running late.
b: oh boy.
me: i'm scared the buzz is starting to wear off.  i should have done three shots.
b: should have brought a flask.
me: i still have to drive myself home.
b: should have planned ahead.
me: no one was available.
b: what the fuck am i?  chopped liver?
me: i didn't think you'd be into it.
b: you have no idea what i would give to see your face walking out of there tonight.
me: i feel like i should get some money off for her being late.  i hauled ass to get here by six.  and no one at this fucking salon thing is friendly.  at all.
b: totally.  you're willing to torture yourself like this and the bitch isn't even there on time to get it over with.
me: and i'm a nervous pee-er.  i've peed three times since i've been here and now i'm self-conscious that my twat reeks of urine.
b:  that's probably better than it normally smells.
i hope you've gleaned what i meant for you to glean from that conversation.
i don't have a bucket list - but if it did it would include things like punch a stranger in the face, get a brazilian wax, saw a snake in half, shave shitler's entire body while he slumbers, etc.
so at least i can check one thing off my list.
in other news.  i feel like shit.  like absolute fucking garbage.
i went to watch shitler bowl last night.  here are a couple snapshots from my night:

aside from the tacos and bowling i only indulged in TWO drinks.  and as a result - my morning has consisted of pepto and constant retching in the toilet.  i'm pathetic.  
plus, i've reach an all-time new low.  due to puke breath - i had to break down and use this:

fuck you shawn white gum

so i'm not sure what's wrong with me.  i've definitely lost my touch - there's doubt about that.  vodka and i used to get on quite well and now the tables have turned.  combine that with the fact that my uterus is trying to claw itself out of my body and as a result i'm in an immense amount of pain.
this is what my life has been reduced to.
pathetic.

Textual Feeling: Mind Fucked

b: so, showering and hygiene in general is really more of nuisance then it's worth.
me:  SEE.  I TOLD YOU.
b: you should write a book.  you are so full of worldly wisdom.
me:  i know this.
typically b isn't this nice to me.  so i felt warm and fuzzy inside.  but for like one fucking minute because then it felt like a trap.
like he was setting me up.
which he probably was.  
he was probably slyly accusing me of being a dirty fucking hippie because i don't like to shower.  which is fine.  because that's also why i love camping.  no one judges you when you don't shower because  you're "roughing it."
regardless.
look at me and shitler "roughing it:"

greasy

back to the task at hand.  i'm pretty sure b was just mind fucking me by back-handedly complimenting me with a masked insult that contained insinuations that i don't shower (which i totally wouldn't if it were more socially acceptable).
whatever.
i'm having mini cucumber sandwiches for lunch.

Shitler Is Breaking My Heart

i need to stop thinking i'm invincible.  i made some poor choices this weekend in regards to food and alcohol and my poor, poor body is currently paying the price.
my back hurts because i spent the majority of my day yesterday hunched over the toilet.  my head is pounding.  and everything i encounter is literally the most annoying thing ever.  people are walking loud and they are talking even louder.  it's crazytown.
and on top of all of that - lincoln is making me give charchar binks the cat back to its original owner because he's a fucking devil-man.
from here on out - he will be referred to as shitler.  in an effort to campaign against his current nazi regime - my friend made some convincing photos that are pretty self-explanatory.

i've decided to occupy the pussy for catgate 2K12.  although i'm not sure if i'm utilizing the concept correctly.  or if that makes me a democrat or a republican.  or if it makes a nazi.  or if this will even work.
i'm sure it won't.  shitler doesn't even care that he's literally ripping my heart out.
bastard. 

Techno Jeep

lincoln just got home and showed me this. 
it changed my life.

i wish my friends and i did shit like this.
but i don't have that many friends.

Sobriety Sucks - But At Least it's Made Me Slightly More Productive

i love vodka.  i love the bar.  i love drinking. 

so anyone that truly knows me, knows i'm usually full of shit when i say i'm going to stop drinking.

but back in October, i decided that i wanted to stop being so fucking chubby.  so i went on a diet.  which meant i had to give up my dearest friend, vodka.  most doubted me.  and with good reason.  i'm not very good at following through with things i say i'm going to do.  but  i must say, fuck you very much, for those that didn't believe i could do it (Lincoln) because it's now been thirty-two days on this motherfucking diet with zero alcohol.

don't get me wrong - it's been fucking miserable.  aside from waking up and not feeling like a piece of shit, the only other plus has been that i've actually dropped weight.

so, although many of you could care less, i am presenting the last thirty-two days in the form of pictures and words. 

enjoy or destroy.

first and foremost.  i've read an assload of books in the last month.

• The Help


• The Kite Runner


• Orange is the New Black


• The Hunger Games trilogy (for the love of all that's holy - READ THESE)

become more obsessed with all things related to cooking and baking and blogging.

• made Mexican Manicotti


• perfected my meatloaf


• made cake balls, cookies, mini cheesecakes, truffles, and peppermint bark


• loved up on many of my favorite blogs like this one, this one, and this one.

discovered many things about the pussy residing in our house.

[caption id="attachment_518" align="aligncenter" width="300" caption="relax PETA. he's being supervised when he plays in the plastic bag."][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_519" align="aligncenter" width="300" caption="he LOVES Nati Light."][/caption]

learned that Lincoln loves his new shotgun more than me (i'm not even kidding.  the night he got it he suggested i sleep on the couch).

[caption id="attachment_522" align="aligncenter" width="300" caption="i named her Eleanor."][/caption]

found that i truly enjoy encouraging/peer pressuring others to binge drink.

[caption id="attachment_525" align="aligncenter" width="300" caption="firm grip there Lincoln."][/caption]

crafted x-mas presents.  i would post pictures but i will refrain (even though they turned out awesome).  i don't want to assume that people even read this blog, but with my luck the people getting said gifts will see them here and everything will be ruined.

watched Foy learn how to eat a crab leg.

[caption id="attachment_526" align="aligncenter" width="300" caption="not the proper form, but i'll accept it."][/caption]

learned that Murphy Lee is a HUGE Rush fan.  and that Lincoln hates clothing for dogs.  but i don't think band tees should count.

[caption id="attachment_527" align="aligncenter" width="300" caption="Exit the warrior, today's Tom Sawyer"][/caption]

 this is unrelated.  but G bought me this hat.  and i love it.

[caption id="attachment_528" align="aligncenter" width="300" caption="i'm not buying whatever he's selling."][/caption]

so that's it.  that's what i've been doing.  nothing exciting. 

i realize that i could blog more - since i'm not hammered all the time. 

i apologize if this bored anyone.  i'd like to think it didn't. 

but leave some comments if it did.

i really like 'lil wayne, although i rarely listen to him or even have any of his music but this line always resonates with me.

'cuz if you lookin' for me you can find me on the block disobeyin' the law

#realtalk 

 

 

Sometimes Charles Manson is My Boyfriend

Have you ever dated someone for so long that you lose track of how long you've actually been together? 

That's the boat Lincoln and I are in. 

It's been since high school and we've come to find out that when people ask us how long we've been together we just tell them "a decade."  But it's been "a decade" for the past three to four years.  Whoops.

Yesterday I was bored (like I always) and started to peruse pictures of Lincolns past.  And there are some fucking priceless ones.

[caption id="attachment_458" align="aligncenter" width="225" caption="sweet headband."][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_459" align="aligncenter" width="225" caption="dick in a box."][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_460" align="aligncenter" width="225" caption="it looks like he smelled fart and wants to know who dealt it."][/caption]

As I looked at more, I realized that most of these pictures involve him and some sort of ridiculous hair.  I don't know what the obsession is.

[caption id="attachment_463" align="aligncenter" width="225" caption="grease fail."][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_464" align="aligncenter" width="225" caption="i just like guns. and he looks like a terrorist."][/caption]

But the one that I like the most is the one where he looks like Charles Manson. 

It's delicious.  And I can't help but love it. 

Don't judge me.

[caption id="attachment_465" align="aligncenter" width="768" caption="mmm, soo hairy."][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_468" align="aligncenter" width="284" caption="looks like Manson has some hair-growing to do."][/caption]

Do you see the resemblance?  Lincoln just needs a swastika tattooed on his forehead. 

But we won't go there.