Dogfaced

I was at Walmart today, a place that makes me want to stab people in the throat on a good day, and I happened upon a pair of women with about eleven children between them.

One turns to the other and says "I'm just so worried about feeding Gavin formula, but I can't keep nursing! Every time I hear a dog bark my milk let's down."

Then the other one says "Oh, I have that problem when I hear fire engines".

Seriously.

Pretty Pitty

Some of you may be all too aware that I'm slightly obsessed with a trainwreck of a show called Toddlers and Tiaras. Have you ever watched it? It's HORRIBLE. And by horrible, I mean AWESOME. The kids are brats, the mothers are psycho's and the costumes make them look like the spangled offspring of a whore and a particularly tacky drag queen.

Basically, it's everything that reality television should be.

Sadly, I have no toddler. But I DO have a dog!

A dog who is probably going to kill me in my sleep now.

Norman Branches Out

Remember the movie Psycho? Remember how after you saw it the first time, you showered different and were scared of roadside motels, unmarried thirty something who live with their mother and guys named Norman? And you thought, REALLY, what could POSSIBLY be scarier than the Bates Motel?

I'll tell you what.

THE MOTHER FUCKING CLOWN MOTEL.

SEE THAT SHIT? That's real, right there. I didn't make that up. That's an actual hotel in Tonopah, Nevada. Let me tell you something, kittens. I'd have rather stayed in the creepy, abandoned, broken windowed Sundowner Motel across the street than brave one single night in this shit.

SEE? They're even ON THE DOORS. Like, Hey! Weary traveler! Come on in! We're going to FUCKING KILL YOU WITH OUR BIG RED SHOES! Hee hee! Just kidding. MAYBE.

Table for Awkward, Party of Me

So remember when you were a kid and you thought your teacher lived in the school and then you saw her at the Safeway and you were all WHAT THE HELL? Mrs. Lyle DOESN'T live in a cave behind the coat closet? NO. WAY. Then she said "hi" to you and even though not two hours before you were waving your arm around shouting ME! ME! ME! trying to get her to pay attention to you, now, because you're not at school, somehow her saying hi to you makes you blush and sort of hide behind your mom?

Yeah. Well the adult equivalent of that? It's seeing your male gynecologist at the Victoria's Secret holding a pair of red lace thong panties.

Natural Blonde

Me: I really doubt that truck stop has the worlds best pancakes.

M: I don't like pancakes.

Me: Me either. I like waffles WAY BETTER.

M: But not just waffles, TROJAN WAFFLES.

Me: Um.. I think you might mean BELGIUM WAFFLES.

M: what's the difference?

Me: The Trojan ones are ribbed for her pleasure.

M: They....EW. GOD MOM, you're SO GROSS.

Here

Here is you and here am I. We are alone, for once. The afternoon is fading behind the drawn shades and I lay in the crook of your arm listening to your heart beat.

Here I am and there you are, sweat drying on our skin when the red glow of sunset turns to street light shine. The scent of you and I together hangs like perfume in the air and I am drunk with it.

There are my clothes and there are yours. Pulled on, they cover the marks that testify our need to consume one another whole. I would eat your heart and serve you my soul to have one more moment connected.

Here you are, at last. Here is my heart, yours. Here is my soul, yours. Here am I, yours; always yours.

Self Portrait

Say You Wheel

Oh, Snap!

I suspect people think I'm kidding when I tell you that I see things like a fat lady at a bus stop wearing nothing but a bed sheet, or the time I saw a guy walking a rooster on a leash, or that time the mariachi band rear ended the nuns. But I'm not!


This time, I have photographic proof! Proof that I almost DIED getting for you guys! Because that's how dedicated I am to this blog. You're welcome.

It's a Red Neck Strip Club. Seriously.

Hope

We are in the bed room, long past when we should be. Half dressed in the half light, we are close enough to touch, but only our hands do. The air is heavy with thought of the future and effervescent with its promise.

A single finger traces the line of my cheek. You are so beautiful you say and I half laugh, derisive and unbelieving. No, you say, I mean it. You are so beautiful on the outside, but on the inside, you are so luminous it almost hurts to look at you.

I am quiet for a moment and then lean in to kiss you. I am luminous because you give me hope.

Away

We are lying on our backs. There are a million stars around us and the river whispers from just over the crest of the hill as it rushes away to join the Snake just beyond the mountains. Behind us, the car door is open and the scratchy radio buzzes country songs from the 50's.


You roll to your side, head propped on your hand and look at me as I look away. There's Orion, I say; but you don't look.

There is a bottle of cheap wine that will give me a headache tipped over and seeping it's last pink drops onto the corner of the moth eaten wool blanket.


A breeze ripples the edge of my skirt. I hear you sigh and I know you are sighing because I am already gone. Whipped away on the breeze like dandelion fluff, I spiral unable to control my rise, unable to prevent my fall.

Imaginary Friends

Look! My imaginary friends aren't ALL imaginary! That's KWR221, me and Kristin's daughter hanging at Dave&Busters.

Relatedly, waiters? Not photographers. Although, to be fair, I am not particularly photogenic, so I suppose I can't blame him. But I'm going to.

Also relatedly, Cherry Berry Mojito's are DELICIOUS. Like, really, really DELICIOUS.

Next up, stalking the Blogslur girls in August...I'll bring the prickly pear syrup and we'll hail cabs using our bras and then pass out on Lorrie's floor.

It's going to KICK ASS.

This is why I can't have nice things

See that? That is my husband driving my $40,000 (new, retail...now probably about $25,000 BUT STILL) truck down a dirt road so jacked up that if he stuck his hand out the window he COULD TOUCH THE GROUND.

And then Kiki died laughing

Scene: Victoria's Secret Christmas Eve day

Nervous looking Man: My girlfriend wants the big boob bra in purple. She's...um...a size small?

Sales Girl: Okay, great! Do you know what cup size?

NLM: Um. I....I don't know (scopes girls around him looking for similar boobs)

SG: Okay, are they more the size of apples, oranges or grapefruits?

NLM: (thinks hard)

NLM: Lemons.

Reveler

Recently my Monday posts have been effervescent with venom bottled up from Weekend Drama. Not today. I had a great weekend. Doing nothing. Hanging out on the couch talking with friends. Eating WAY too much guacamole (is there such a thing? No? I suspected not) in honor of National Guacamole Day on Saturday. I bowled a good game and didn't get bitched at (or maybe I did, but I was too busy sneaking drinks of Cosmo and playing with my Gigibella. (CAN NOT believe she'll be one in three weeks! Craziness!))

To top off a fantastic weekend of lazy, my bestie is in town all week and I'm going to skip out of work early so we can hang out every afternoon.

All this KikiGlee is probably the harbinger of some sort of getting hit by a bus like drama to come. But for now? I revel.

Not to mention I got a new bra and my boobs look AMAZING. Seriously. Like I HAVE boobs again.

PS. You're welcome interwebz. I know you haven't seen enough pictures of my boobs recently. It's a result of The Crazy. The more that people tell me how "skinny" I've gotten, the more self conscious I become. I never really thought about my weight in relation to my looks before surgery. I was pretty, The End. Fat or not, I work at it. I don't leave the house in my sweats and pony tail with no make up. Ever. Not even when I was on-my-death-bed sick dragging myself to the store for NyQuil. I still put on jeans and combed my hair. Partially it's my Grams fault. I don't think she's ever once left the house with out lipstick and partially it's just that I'm pretty much as vain as humanly possible (despite my POS car) and partially it's that I believe Fat Girls, like drag queens have to Bring It. Sure, skinny girls looks adorable in their little yoga pants and tank top, but us fatties? Not so much. So I worked at it. From the time I was 12. I never doubted that I was pretty until about thirty pounds ago. It's weird to realize how invisible I really was. Now people LOOK at me. Hard. Which, of course, has fueled my obsession with my appearance in a somewhat unhealthy way. Not that I WANT y'all to stop commenting on my hotness...HELLO, VANITY, it's more that now I start to doubt my assessment abilities. How is it possible I looked amazing before only to find that I look both totally different and amazing now? Did I not look amazing before? Was I deluding myself then? Am I doing it now? Whatever. I'm hot. And my boobs look FANTASTIC in my lipstick-red bra. And that's enough.

Damn.

I think those pills for The Crazy are starting to work.

Or maybe it's all that guacamole I ate.

Who cares?

Party on, bitches. Party on.

Wordless Wednesday: Fair Enough

(subtitle: Hell no, I didn't ride that shit. Don't you people read the news? I don't want the headlines to read "Fat girl falls from State Fair Ride and crushes on-lookers to death")

Phoning it in

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BBBEEEEEEEEEEEEEPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP

Straight to Hell

M: MOM.* Why do that Mormons have a statue of Mowgli on top the thingie on their temples?

Me: Because they're telling Jesus "You!I wanna be like you-oo-oo I wanna talk like you Walk like you, too! You'll see it's true! Someone like me can learn to be Like someone like me Can learn to be Like someone like you Can learn to be Like someone like me!"

(*aside - M starts EVERY sentence she says to me with MOM. Not a question, not an alert that she means to speak to me, just a single word demand. MOM.)

Then I vill KEELs you

I'm not NOT hiding in your closet with a butcher knife....

(p.s. wouldn't this picture be SO much cooler if I had fangs?)

What an ass

and for once, I didn't mean my husband when I said that.

Which is pretty certain to be the first sign of the Apocalypse. Or it could just be that I haven't talked to him today. Maybe both.