The Holiday Fupa, and My Doctor Thinks I Have Breast Implants

Happy Thanksgiving you turkey trotting, gravy gobbling, cranberry creaming readers!

Tis the season of obesity, and the abundance of the fupa, which I expect will make an appearance several times during the holidays. I picked the absolute worst time to go on a low carb diet considering every god damn piece of food is made up of carbohydrates. I'd like to lose twenty pounds before I dip to Vegas for Spring Break, but I've been saying that I've wanted to lose twenty pounds since I was a porker in the fifth grade and a pro at tetherball.

I feel like I've described the fupa several times in past entries, but for you rookies I'll do another quick overview. The FUPA is shortened for a FAT UPPER PUSSY AREA. I also like to think that you can have a FUBA, which is a FAT UPPER BACK AREA. The fupa is essentially the area above your vag that is enlarged usually due to obesity that tends to expand through yo pants. If you have a fupa you'll probably know about it, people will stare. The fuba is basically just a bunch o back fat, which is generally pretty fucking unflattering.

Or do you think anyone gives a shit about the dress/duvet cover she's wearing?

I decided to say fuck me in the ass to the whole diet crescendo during the holidays and allow for the turkey baster to penetrate me repeatedly while injecting stuffing into my ever growing fat cells.

Note: I do talk about being penetrated and raped a lot, it just seems to go fittingly with whatever I'm talking about. 


Also to commemorate Thanksgiving, November also marks the month of the infamous "No Shave November." Basically people decide to not shave for the month of November. I'm not really sure why people do this...but I joined in. Not because I intentionally wanted to participate in no shave, but because I'm a lazy piece of shit. And I'm not getting laid on a regular basis, so I feel no need to keep myself as bare as a two year old's bottom.

So since I am home for Thanksgiving break, my mother felt the need to do all of my dentist and doctor check-ups to keep me as healthy as possible. I guess I should take advantage of this luxury before I have to pay for my own health insurance (liver transplants are $300,000.)

Anyway, I head to the doctor for a check up. She's a pretty swell lady, we discussed my sleeping habits, alcohol and smoking habits, the usual. And I really thought that was all the check up was, then she pulled out the hospital gown and it was evident, I was going to get THAT kind of check up as well. Fuck. Not only do I absolutely fucking hate this part of the doctor's visit, but I was hairy fucking everywhere. I resembled Chewbacca's long lost cousin. I was sitting on the doctor's table in my adorable little gown, trying to hide my legs, and she told me to lie down for the breast exam. The thing that drives me crazy about both doctors and dentists is how they try and make small talk with you at the most awkward moments. At this point in time, while my doctor is feeling me up. I just try and look away and stare at the ceiling thinking about what I'm going to eat for lunch later.

Then she suddenly asks me, "Do you have implants?"
G: "Uhmm..no. And I think we talked about this last time I was here."
Doc: "Ohh! I'm sorry, you just have very firm breast tissue."
G: "I see, what the hell does that mean."
Doc: "It just means that they won't sag when you're older."

Well, I guess there is some hope for me. Even though they already sag. But I guess this means when I'm older they won't hang past my belly button.

After the awkward grope sesh with my doctor is over, it's time for her to examine my lower manhood. If her feeling up wasn't awful enough, this level of awkwardness just burst through the fucking roof. I have to put my feet on these metal stirrups and do the spread eagle. My legs are clenched together tighter than a re-stiched vagina. She orders me to relax and let my legs fall apart, I just want to cry. But before that, I apologize for my not shaving prior to our visit. I'm sure she's seen worse, and probably even bigger fupas.

I hope everyone else is having a wonderful, fupa-induced Thanksgiving holiday.

A few things that I'm thankful for worth noting:

1. Friends and Family - For keeping me alive and loving me through all my blunders and mishaps. Or at least doing a really great job at pretending they give a shit.

2. Food - You get me through the times when I am man-less. Or even when I do have a fellow. Cheers to you for contributing to my fupa, fuba, and sagging breasts.

3. Booze - You just may be the heart and soul contribution to this blog. Thanks for keeping my standards low and my tolerance high.

4. Chelsea Handler - For knowing that there are other women in this world who don't give a rat's ass about what people think about them. You are a diamond in pile of horse manure, and I plan on sending you my blog link once I hit a certain amount of followers.


What are you guys thankful for? If anything, be thankful for the FUPA for storing excess fat incase we get a little hungry. 




Braille: flyingpinkpigs69@hotmail.com
Twatter: tronaholic

I Have Been Nominated For The BILF Award! Also, I Hit My Head On Something This Weekend.

Just a quick little post to distract me from endless hours of homework that I have procrastinated on this entire weekend.

The wonderful and classy Allie has decided under god knows what circumstances to honor me with the BILF award, the "Blogger I'd Like to Fuck." I am so surprised, I haven't even prepared a speech for this momentous occasion. 

This is the second award that I have received, and I decided that this one is going to be blogged about. Thank you Allie, for wanting to have sex with me. You're pretty fucking delightful. If you are ever in the area, we should probably get together. But for now, cybersex I guess will have to do. 

Here are some more sexy funny bloggers that I would just die of happiness if we could have cybersex JUST ONE FUCKING TIME. 

briLikethebear - You and I have probably the same exact type of humor, and that's why I fucking love your shit. Get at me brah, let the dirty sexting begin. 

Miss Sassy Pants - Well I know you in real life, but why the fuck haven't we boned yet? If you haven't read her shit, you're seriously missing out on this blog queen bee bitch. 

Kayleigh - This gorgeous female is wonderful. Her blog is so creative and full of great pictures. Plus she's hot, uhmmmm HELLO. I'm sold. 

KG - This girl has been reading my shit since day one along with that Allie beez. I have mad love for this woman, and I hope she knows that I'm crashing in her bed when I move to New York next year. 

ms.composure - Her page is always filled to da brim with these crazy and hilarious photos and videos that bring me immense pleasure. Plus her bod is bangin', sexy can I? 

So there you have it, some classy ladies that I'm tryin' to bone. Wish me luck. 

Weekend Highlights

. Bought at least five rounds of shots (I only work 5 hours a week)

. My roommate put me to bed in MY bedroom...I woke up in my roommates bed down the hall. 

. Also, I woke up with a bump the size of a ball sack on my forehead. 

Cheers to the freakin' weekend. 

"Don't Punch Me Yet, Let Me Cover My Nose First"

Here we fucking go again. I feel like I always blog only on Thursdays. It's just such an appropriate day I  mean after all, it is the start to the weekend. I do need to stop delaying my posts though, it is now becumming a two week wait for new blog posts. My dear followers, please continuously prod my glutes with a beer bong (funnel end) to remind me to be a more frequent blog bitch.

I figured you would all want to know about the garbage heap that happened this past weekend, more commonly known as Halloween 2011. I know in my last blog entry I had a lot more creative costume choices, but my fundings were limited because I spend all my money funding my alcoholism and obesity. I tried to find a cheap hot dog costume, I promise. But without further adieu, lezzzzbehonest and begin an explicit breakdown of the freakend.

FRIDAY- Drop It Like It's Hot: The beginning of something slippery. Tonight I decided to dress up as "The Sun Drop Girl." If you do not know who this bonita apple bottom bitch is, observe below.

Drop it like it's hot, you cooter queen. 

I told you she's fucking fantastic.

I thought this outfit would be appropriate because it was as warm as the apple pie that Jason Biggs masturbated with. Also I could get belligerently intoxicated and have an excuse for dancing like a giraffe on ecstasy. The pre funk began around...8? We obviously took shots while getting ready. My roommates and myself mosey our asses to a fiesta. The party is in full swing. Naturally, I spot the cooler filled with drinks and the cases of beer so that is my first destination. The boy/bahtender offers me a beer. I politely decline and demand hard liquor. I myself am definitely more of a hard liquor kind of gal. I stand by the fact that "liquor is quicker," plus beer makes me bloat almost instantaneously like a fucking popcorn kernel. Moving right along. My roommates say adios and we part our ways and I wind up with my other pals and we decide to descend to the bars.
Several more shots later...we all end up in the bathroom and decide to cram five or six of us into one stall for some bizarre reason and take pictures. Then we grab random tricks from the bathroom and take group photos, gotta love spontaneity. The night ends with me droppin' it like it's hot all over the bar, and dancing with a few gentlemen. Now was it one or two that I had a romantic passionate Notebook style kiss with? My bestest friend in da worrrrrrrld and I decide that it is probably time to go home...but not until we get into a fist fight.

You see right hurrr, since Freshman year we always like to joke around and shove each other, but sometimes we start getting pissed off at each other where we actually fight like we mean it. Well, being drunk definitely has its perks. We decided to punch each other in the face since we have never done it before. GENIUS! She made sure that we didn't hit each other's noses though, because that would be just tragic. I think the gentleman who walked us home was a bit concerned with our friendship. We woke up with sore eyeball sacks and damaged dignities.

SATURDAY - Gabby gets lost, again: Three cheers for hangover round one! After filling my six pack of blubber with endless amounts of Dairy Queen and sitting on the couch for ten straight hours, I decide that it's going to be a Tequila kind of night. Mistake #1. For tonights costume, I wore a warrior princess costume. Not like fucking Xenia though. Everyone was making themselves look dead by splattering fake blood and shit on themselves so I decided what the fuck, might as well. So I was a dead warrior princess. We went to a house party and kicked it with Tiger Woods, then went to a frat. Being a senior and going to a frat is nothing like it was when I was a young lass. I felt like an old saggy ball sack. Everyone was a freshman or a sophomore and wearing next to nothing. I forgot Halloween is an excuse to wear a matching bra and panty set. After flopping away from the frat scene, we head to the bars and do the jitterbug for a bit. In the process, we run into one of my home gurls who was doing a ride-a-long with the police. I decided to pose for a picture with one of the officers (I have yet to see how that turns out) My friend and I, the lone rangers, go back to the bar and the next thing I know, she disappears.

This song is a classic anthem in my case

I am drunk. By myself. I do not no a soul here. So I decided that walking around the bar by myself would be the most logical solution. The bar being two levels, I thought that walking up and down the stairs would give me a chance to burn off a few of those amf drinks. I don't know why the fuck I thought that no one would take notice to a blood soaked warrior princess walking in circles by herself for twenty minutes, but it seemed brilliant at the time. Luckily, I ran into some friends and went back to their house...where I took more shots. Christ. After playing foosball for awhile...?!?! My gentleman friend trotted my black stallion behind back to the stables where we watched Disturbia and chatted about how wonderful we were.

SUNDAY - Food Coma: I decided to be a normal human being for once, and by normal human meaning I sat in the recliner while dining on the finer things in life, the Big Mac.

MONDAY - Batzilla: After a solid five hours of sleep, I was well rested and ready to celebrate the actual holiday of Halloweiner. Monday was by far the worst night, by worst I mean to give my condolences to my liver. I go with the Batman theme, obviously because black is slimming and I was still trying to digest the diseased cattle ranch forming a knot in my stomach. DTF was also Superman, so we were a hoot. I am going to coin us forever more as Trip D, the Dynamic Drunk Duo. Kind of like Triple A, except we don't assist anyone with anything. My other lovely roommates dressed up as Thing One, Thing Two, and Thing Three, but there was a bit of altering to the costumes. Replace "Thing" with "Drunk," and There was Drunk One, Two, and Three. Bloody fucking brilliant, ladies.

After more people came to our house, we had a nice and chunky group going so we flew like the wind to a few parties before hitting the bars. Some more intense gigging, and shots, I was the most intoxicated that I have been all weekend. Outside of the bar, I was having a conversation with myself about making the trek home because clearly, gravity is starting to pull you down town. I start talking to a gentleman, he who must not be named, only because I definitely do not know his name. I did however, sprint home in my Batman costume, cape and all, at four in the morning. Good thing they invented shortcuts.

No, I'm not fucking sorry for partying. 


So there you fucking have it my sexy followers, another successful weekend.

A little off the subject but not really because my alter ego is a six hundred pound woman, but I found this site gorgeous. Check out this picture.

Bacon Wrapped Burrito Log: A delightful little snack where you shove Taco Bell's Cheesy Double Beef Stuffed Burritos into a log of sausage which is then wrapped in a few layers of bacon. 

If you're not cumming over this concoction, we can't be friends. 

So, how was everyone else's Hallofreakend? Don't even think about not splooging the dirty details.


Tweet my twatty ass, or send me some porn/hate mail


Braille: flyingpinkpigs69@hotmail.com
Twatter: tronaholic

Two Weeks Notice: Camel Toes, Chippendales, and Halloween Costumes

Don't give me any shit, I know that I haven't blogged in a hot minute. But due to nagging from friends and loyal readers, I have decided that two weeks has been long enough. The problem is, I get busy. And when I say that I get busy, I mean that I have been devoting many hours to watching One Tree Hill and eating enough carbs to help sustain a third world country.

If I can begin to recall the past two weeks, I can only update you on the highlights from the bloody massacre that I call my life.

Week One:
. 21 Run & Foam Fun - Decided to go out for a subtle wing night, which soon turned into a slop bowl after attending some 21 runs. Ended the night by taking the birthday lady to the Wednesday night foam fest. Inhaled too many bubbles, probably mixed with some bodily fluids. Delish.
. Pub Crawl - This was a disgusting event that involved a bunch of girls running amok around town to as many bars as possible. I consumed quite a bit of liquor, but I also brought a flask with me for good measure. I couldn't allow my buzz to cum down quite yet. We made it to a number of bars, so I say that we did a pretty swell job. One highlight includes sucking face with a gentleman in front of the hot dog stand (appropriate?) Pub crawls never end well.

Week Two: 
. THE FALCON HAS LANDED - He shook his tail feathers at the airport after docking on Thursday. Falcon, myself, and the Ranga snagged some din din. I ate the weight of my tits in BBQ pulled pork.
. We decide to throw a fiesta - Falcon bought the booze, that sneaky bird. We made Pink Panty Droppers, which incase you didn't know is a mix of beer, lemonade, and vodka. Who was the person that decided to invent this drink? I have no idea, but my liver threw up a white flag and surrendered at about 12AM. Up until the time where all goes black like my soul, there was a mix of dancing, arguments, and an appearance by a man who had the appearance of a Chippendales dancer. I woke up in my friend's bed with a different pair of pajamas on. Highlights include vomiting in a kitchen bowl, dancing with a Chippendale, and a gentleman running around with no underwear on. Bottoms up!

Something that I have been thinking about lately since it is unfortunately starting to creep up, Halloween costumes. To be completely honest, I'm not too keen on the holiday of Halloween. It either requires being creative or being a slut, both of which are questionable attributes in my life. Halloween used to be so much more fun when we were young and naive little nuggets. Trick or Treating was wonderful. I loved stuffing my overweight and flat assed self into a stereotypical and hideous costume.

Example One: Guess which one I am? Hint, I have a muffin top at the age of three and what appears to be an elongated camel toe.

If it was socially acceptable for college students to still go trick or treating, then I would absolutely be all for it. But now, I have to accept the inevitable change from binge eating too many Crunch bars, to binge drinking too much Montego Bay Rum. 

Now back to what I was saying about costumes. Halloween in college is the biggest holiday of the year. It gives every girl an excuse to dress up like an enormous whore and get blasted. Which is absolutely okay by me, unless you're one of those poor girls who try and squeeze all 300 pounds of your flesh into a costume made for chicks living on cocaine, and then vomiting everywhere from the combination of alcohol and too many tacos putting pressure on your already expanded stomach in a corset. 

Disclaimer ^^ : If this does happen to you and you do indeed consume too much booze and food and your costume is starting to implode like the blueberry girl in Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, please read my earlier post that deals with unpredictable bloating and if you must resort to pushing out that bitch.  

Over the past three years, I have had a variety of Halloween costumes, ranging from the slutty to the down right what the fuck. Here is a brief overview, with pictures. 

Freshman Year: A porky maid at the age of eighteen. I lost my feather duster, but that didn't stop me from buying twenty dollars worth of McDonalds once I got back to my dorm. 

Sophomore Year: A candy striper. This was the most intoxicated Halloween I've experienced, clearly my eyes are almost cross-eyed in the above photo. The last thing I remember is vomiting at a fraternity and my friend peeking from underneath the bathroom stall to see if I am still alive. I leave the party at 11:30 once Falcon picked my cute ass up. He thought it would be funny to take pictures of me by the toilet. I also proceeded to vomit in my room in the only plastic bag near my bed, which happened to contain my pay check. I'm sure you can imagine the look of horror on the bank teller's face when I went to deposit a check flecked with red chunks. 

Junior Year: A Four Loko and a Ra-Freaky. A group of us dressed up as Four Lokos in memory of  them being altered to their non caffeinated state. We of course, drank too many Four Lokos, and then proceeded to remember why we stopped drinking the black outs in a can. Another fond night this year was when I decided to be Rafiki's alter ego, Ra-freaky, a crazy drunken sex driven baboon. My outfit as you can see, consisted of body paint, booty shorts, my spirit stick, and some penis blog drawn around my belly button. I "simba-d" a lot of people that night with my face paint, Tequila tends to give you that sort of inspiration. 

Since Halloween is on a god damn Monday this year, that means I need to have at least five different costumes. One for each night, Thursday through Monday. 

Here are my ideas so far:

1) A hot dog, preferably with some mustard or relish. Complete with a sign attached to my back proclaiming, "ASK ME ABOUT MY WEINNEERRRR!" Inspiration from the clip below. 

2) The Kool Aid Guy. Pretty self explanatory, I just get to run around in an oversized t-shirt with a jug of Kool Aid infused with too much vodka screaming, "OHHH YEAAAAHHHHHHHHHH."

3) A Mental Health Patient, with a bad case of Tourettes. I have a hospital gown and I already don't brush my hair, and my friends strongly believe I have Tourettes. If I get some the night I wear this beauty, I will never have to question my seduction skills again. 

4) Chunk, from the Goonies. If you have seen the Goonies, which I hope to god all of you fucks have seen  this classic, then you will know that Chunk has an appetite, and is known for being the klutz. Plus he gets to do the Truffle Shuffle, which I wouldn't mind doing after an inappropriate amount of jello shots. Jigga Jigga Jigga Jigga. 

So now all I need is a fifth costume and then I'm golden. Maybe I'll do a slutty one for kicks, or dress up as a Chippendale. I was also thinking maybe the possibility of an Amy Winehouse costume. After all, I just have to chain smoke, have a blackened bee hive hairdo, and be belligerently drunk in public. Sounds like I'm about halfway there already.  

What are you guys thinking about donning for Halloween? 

If you have any questions or discussion topics for me, don't hesitate to sling me an email or tweet me you fucks.
Email: flyingpinkpigs69@hotmail.com
TWEEETTERRRR: tronaholic


P.S. I don't fucking understand Twitter, but I figure I better start getting more tech savvy. 

Nugget Porn and "The Accidental Slip"

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The Pros and the Cons of My Existence (Perspectives From Brutally Honest Friends)

Jambo!

I decided to write a quick little post about the perks of knowing me. My friends created a Venn Diagram of the pros and the cons (multiple) of my existence. These are the ideas of The Ranga, PCP, and Buffaluffagus. I have not introduced the Buff yet, but the important things you must know is that she gigs like nobody's business and hates not receiving mass texts.

Now without further delay, here is this gorgeous list. I will understand if you want to stop reading my blog.

PROS
1. Cuddling - PCP thinks I am the best cuddle buddy ever, probably due to the comfort of my fat rolls and baby soft arm hair
2. TITTIES - This is actually underlined and in all caps. I do have large mammary glands, but big melons are not necessarily a good thing. Every shirt I own makes me look like a whore (besides my muscle tees), and gravity has been yanking those puppies down to Chinatown. By the time I'm thirty, they'll be past my belly button. Pro about big tits, you can slap a bitch.
3. Social Chair - Back when I lived in the Moulin Rouge, every member of the household had a position. I was the Social Chair because I knew about a lot of parties, and I know a lot of people. Well, more like a lot of people know me, I never remember anyone because my brain has shrunk to the size of a Cheerio.
4. Musical Genius - One of the nicest things my friends said. I have played guitar for almost ten years, and can also play the Bass and Drums. Only thing I'm missing is the singing, probably for everybody's benefit.
5. Gabby Childs - I enjoy cooking, and one of my top movies is Julie and Julia. I am Gabby Childs, Julia's long lost daughter.
6. Loyalty - I'm a loyal friend. If you fuck with my friends, I will rape you repeatedly with an ax.
7. Speaks her Mind - Clearly, just read my fucking blog.

PRO & CON
Plain and simple, these are both good and bad things about my lifestyle.
1. LEGS - Pro: My friends think I have nice legs, I got it from mah momma. Con: When I get drunk, I lose all strength in my legs, therefore becoming a paraplegic. I will wake up with a bruise the size of Pangea. My mom thinks I'm anemic, I think I drink too much.
2. Porn <3 - Pro: Porn is everyone's secret love. My love is not that secret. I recommend Redtube. Con: Will interfere with school work.
3. Drinking Capabilities - Pro: I can outdrink a lot of people, and it's amazing that I am still standing after six years of liver abuse. Con: My drinking capabilities has also created problems such as trying to fight people or falling in ditches.
4. No Swimming Ability - Pro: I'm hoping that my non existent swimming ability will snag me a hot man who will see my blubber butt sinking faster than the Titanic and save me. Con: Obvious reasons that I could drown or be eaten by a shark.
5. Will Fuck Women - Pro: I hate labels. My mentality is have sex with whoever you want, if you're horny, you're fucking horny. Besides, women are gorgeous, and don't just pump you three times and leave. Con: I don't believe there is a con, but The Ranga does. She's a rude girl.
6. The Bad Girls Club - Pro: If you have not heard of this delightful show, I suggest watching it immediately. The best season was the fifth. I've been told to audition for that, or the Real World. I think both would be poor choices. Con: The show is extremely trashy, but I think that's a pro.

This is easily one of the best scenes from BGC. Falling down stairs when you're wasted hurts, trust me. 

CONS

1. Worms World Party (WWP) - This is one of the greatest computer games of all time, besides Putt-Putt Saves the Zoo. Basically, you create a team of worms. You make up the name of the team, as well as the names of each individual worm. Then, you can chose your team's flag, their tombstone, their theme song, weapons of choice, and you can even give your worms and accent (my personal favorite is the "Smooth Babes") You battle the computer's worm team, or play multi-player. The goal of the game is to destroy the other team, obviously. Everyone thinks this is a con, but I think it's one of God's gifts to my hard drive. Here's a clip so you know exactly what you're missing out on. 

My favorite weapons to use against my enemies: 

1:11 - Super Sheep, 2:01 - Sheep Strike, 2:28 - The Concrete Donkey 

2. Sand Dollar Nips - I have weirdly large nipples, my friends say they are as big as sand dollars. No nipple rings for this bitch, con con con. 

3. Rude Girl - I'm pretty blatantly rude to everyone. It's something I need to work on I know, but I think it adds to my charm and appeal. I'm sure my friends will disagree with this statement, particularly because PCP constantly threatens our friendship every time I make a snide remark.  

4. Eating Habits - If you read one of my earlier posts titled "Who Ran For President Again?" I describe my eating habits when I was a kid. I may not binge eat as much as I did when I was a tubby little eight year old, but I am a sloppy eater. I chew with my mouth open, talk while eating, and usually get half of my meal on my face or in my hair. This probably explains why I haven't been on a dinner date in years. 

Freshman year of High School - everything makes sense now

5. Small Bladder - Okay I will admit it, I have peed my pants while severely intoxicated. Two years ago, my friend found me passed out next to a jeep and took me home. I was then put on the couch while my drunk roommates were still awake. Ursula discovered that I had pissed the couch and I was promptly taken to the bathroom immediately by Sweetheart and Ranga. I started vomiting excessively into the porcelain goddess. Happy Sophomore year!

6. Downy Faces - I can morph my face into some bizarre positions. One of my personal favorites since High School is doing "In-Motion" pictures. Essentially, you relax your face and shake excessively back and forth, allowing your face fat flab to fly and shake. Disclaimer, the sounds from your cheek fat flapping is really gross and sounds like fat people having sex. 

Sophomore year of High School - still single

7. Noises - My friends think I have Tourette's, I think they're probably right.

Alyssa's clearly having a bad day. 

Anyone still want to be friends with me? That's what I thought, crickets.



What are your quirks that make you "special?" Got any weird habits? Let's hear 'em!

Weekend Highlights

. Family Night, resulting in too much Jaegermeister

. Being kicked out of the bar

. Waking up in my dress

. Helping to clean my friend's room so she could get it in (worked like a charm) 

Millions of Peaches, Peaches For Me

Greetings fellow blog-aholics. It is 12:23AM and I really should be studying for my Cultural Artifacts Midterm Project but writing a post about my obsession and adoration for my Middle School crush sounded a lot more appealing.

I would like to give a disclaimer that I was even more bizarre in Middle School than probably any other time of my life. Hard to believe I know, but you'll soon come to realize that I am correct. 

The beginning of my disgusting love began in the 6th grade when said gentleman was in my Homeroom. I thought he was beautiful. I liked him for a bit, then moved onto a few other fellows. It happened again in 7th grade, but the real clincher was in the 8th grade where I began to keep a journal about my lovesick thoughts and dreams of our future together.

I thought I would post some pictures of the evidence before I dive into the exploits of my diary. This should give you an idea of what exactly we are working with here. 

Exhibit A: The Rebel Diary - notice the fuzzy/tacky black cover, you already know you're in for a treat. 

Exhibit B: The Inside Doodle Cover - I had a slight obsession with flying pink pigs when I was a young lass. Also, in the bottom left corner you can observe a direct quote from Ludacris's song "What's your Fantasy." Why was I so deranged?  

Exhibit C: A young and attractive girl named Gabby at the ripe age of 13  

Why won't anyone date me!?!?

P.S. What the fuck is "Sideout?" Cute flowers, betch. 

Now that we have covered the basics, let's move right along into the prime entries. I will be writing down, word for word, what I said 8 years ago. Please ignore the atrocious spelling and abbreviations. Whenever I mention my love's name, it will be Peaches. At school, my friends and I came up with code names for the boys that we had crushes on so we were able to talk about them as much as we wanted. Peaches, is the main subject of this post, but there was also "Mustard," "Ketchup," "Green Bean," "Snot Boy," etc etc. Don't ask me how we came up with these names, maybe we were hungry. I wouldn't be surprised. My face   looks like a chipmunk storing too much food for winter. 

April 7th, 2004

Im havin a P-A-R-T-A-Y on April 17! its gonna b da bomb! about 30-40 ppls r going! my lover "peaches" is join! not literally my lover i just have a MAJOR crush on him! he has the most gourgous eyes ever! OMG! i could just stare at him 4 hours... :) I even had a fantasy about him! (ok make that like 7 fantasies) each of them were in different places but the one that i remember the most was on the stonerific couch! He took my hand and led me downstairs to the couch. then i got on top of him and we started making out really hard (frenching) then i took off his shirt and ran my hands across his body (very smooth and hott) and then i guess he felt me up. I was in a tie tank top and a miniskirt and boots! talk about SEXAY! then i took of his jeans and he was shirtless with boxers on. then more stupid stuff happened but I'm way 2 lazy at the moment...So yeah anywayz spring break is pretty damn boring...so far at least...Well i better go cuz I'm getting kinda tired but i will update u with more of my "peachy" fantasies. 

As you can probably see, I not only was a horrific writer, but twisted, and way too horny as a 13 year old. 

I'm also willing to share with you fellow readers a song that I wrote about said Peaches. I used the song "American Pie," by Don McLean, but I imputed my special version, feel free to sing along!

1rst Verse: "A long long time ago, i can still remember how peaches use 2 make me smile. And i knew if i had my chance, then i would ask peaches 2 the dance. and maybe we would be happy for awhile. But november made me shiver, with all the m&ms i'd deliver. Bad news in front of me. OUCH! nicole just slapped me on the knee. I can't remember if i cried when i heard that he had lied. the day, peaches died" 

Chorus:  "So bye bye mr. peaches he died maybe gabby who's not that shabby will stop bein so shy. and good ol' girls were eaten fruitcake & pie singin this is the day peaches died....this is the day that peaches died." 

2nd Verse: "No do u believe in rock n roll and can the music save your pathetic soul, could you teach me how to dance super slow? Probably not but ANYWAYZ! WEll i kno that ur in luv wit her cauz she asked u "do u wanna make out? and u said sure!" You both threw off your clothes, now i think i have a stuffy nose. I was a funny girl who never got laid, with a chicken in one hand and an escalade, but i still knew they were in the shade the day, peaches died....i was singing, he was singin!

Chorus Repeat!

3rd Verse: Then i met a boy who played guitar and he offered me a cuban cigar...i just smiled and turned away. i walked down to the coffee shop, thats where me and peaches did the bop, but the owner said the jukebox wouldn't play....and in the streets i stood and screamed, no one paid attention as it seemed, No one in the town talked, i am now missing my purple and yellow sock. And the 3 girls that i admired most, dump truck, hot-wire, and Sydney the toast, they caught the last plane for the coast, the day..peaches died...and they were singing!

Final Chorus

Unfortunately, the "Peaches" saga came to an end after your typical Middle School drama went down and he dated other girls while I would stand in the background in my Sideline sweatshirt and watch helplessly. Once that happened, I documented it at the back page of my diary writing an official declaration of my broken heart from the agony and heartbreak of loving "Peaches."

Maybe if I had sung him the "Peaches Song," this tale would have ended differently.

So now that we have officially established that I am absolutely psychotic, feel free to poke fun at my flat ass as much as you want.

Anyone else have any heart wrenching love tales involving obsession and bad clothing decisions from their glory days? 

The Great Shaving Debacle

I fucking hate shaving. I hate how tedious it is, how time consuming it is, my back starts to hurt, shaving cream is expensive, and I always, ALWAYS, cut myself. 

The worst is when you nick your vag, ouch. Chop that hoe!

They didn't have any pictures of a woman cutting her vagina shaving, sorry. 

As much as I hate shaving, I hate hair, and there is no way in hell I can afford laser hair removal, otherwise I would use it on every inch of my body. So alas, I am forced to take the extra ten minutes to shave my body.

We shave because we want to feel clean and fresh, and beautiful. But has anyone ever noticed that every time you shave, you don't get any play? For me in the past, I felt that every time I took the time to look attractive, I never had any success. But when I didn't give a shit and just wanted to go out and get drunk with my girls, I scored. WHY DOES THIS ALWAYS HAPPEN. And I know other people have expressed their frustration with this issue, so for once, I'm not the only hairy duckling. 

For the women who do shave and score, congratulations, now teach me your fucking secrets. 

One time a few years back, okay maybe several months ago, I went out on a random Thursday night and got extremely intoxicated and my boyfriend at the time wanted to come over and hang out. I panicked because I knew that I didn't shave. So I left the party early just so I could come home and trim my Christmas tree. I went to the bathroom the next morning to brush my teeth and saw my razor at the sink. Then I examined my lower region and found a desert plateau. Who on earth leaves a party to come home and shave? This bitch does. 

Does anyone else have any shaving horror stories? 

Also, Labor Day Weekend Highlight Recap:

1. A failed attempt at a foursome with women

2. Cougar Football Saturday

3. $2.50 Fireball Whiskey shots, again

4. Inquiring about a Bartending job while severely intoxicated

5. Eating everyone's leftover lettuce from their tacos

How To Deal With The Awkward Morning After

First and foremost, I would like to thank my "roommate" M&M for suggesting that I blog about this common problem that we endure.

I am sure that a rather large percentage of us twenty somethings have experienced the awkward morning after. Katy Perry phrases it perfectly in her song, "Last Friday Night." So you took way too many shots of Tequila and somehow in your drunken stupor, attract the attention of the "cute" boy or girl lurking in the corner watching your every move. Now you two start talking or dancing together and your lips meet and from there, the rest is a baby in the making. Just kidding.

Now, you wake up around seven or eight in the morning and realize that you are either:
A) Naked and confused
B) Wearing half of your outfit last night and confused
C) Dressed in a bizarre assortment that you like to call pajamas, and still confused as fuck

Then you look to your left and realize to your horror that the person you were with last night was definitely not  on the scale of 10 attractive that you thought they were and are naked with a line of drool coming out of their mouth.

This is the moment when you ask yourself the age old question:

"WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED LAST NIGHT?"

If you have seen the amazing film, Coyote Ugly, they give a splendid definition of the Awkward Morning After and if your prospect from the night before is a grenade.
Here's Urban Dictionary's Definition:

A situation encountered after a night of consuming alcohol whereby a person, usually male, wakes the next morning in a strange bed with a sexual partner from the previous evening who is completely physically undesirable (see ugly, nasty, two bagger) and sleeping on the man's arm. The hapless male would rather gnaw off his own arm than wake the woman and have to face the ills of his intoxicated choices the previous evening. Originating from a phenomena whereby a coyote captured in a jaw trap will chew off its own leg to escape certain death.

In case you find yourself in the middle of an Awkward Morning after scenario, my suggestion is to prod the crap out of them until they wake up. I like to prod them and give them a little wave or a "whoopsie daisy" smile. Then I like to say something that ends up being really awkward like, "Wow, that party was great last night wasn't it?" And then they give you the look like "well, obviously it was great, I'm in your bed you fucking moron." I personally think it's better to make small talk with your shacker rather than getting dressed in absolute silence. They say silence is golden, but in this situation, it makes everything more awkward.

It's better to get the shacker out early, any later, and shit just hits the awkward fan. I've had guys, like my recent nameless man, where we have both accidentally slept in until eleven or later. Now I've realized that I have not only missed my first class, but also missed breakfast.

So as you're chatting about the party or the weather or your favorite animal, whatever tickles your fancy, grab clothes immediately. I don't want to be parading around naked in the daylight in front of my shacker. Tequila makes everyone's body distorted, and mine is no exception. Not just because I am a self conscious woman, but I don't want my shacker to think he made the mistake of sleeping with a cream puff, and vice versa.

The awkward scramble of retrieving your clothing is over and it's time to show them the door, but this is the clincher part of the morning. I'll give you an example of my last morning after with said nameless guy who is nameless because I have absolutely no idea who the fuck he is. Stay class, Tron.

Me: "So...have a safe trip back?" 
Juicehead: "Yeah, I will...thanks"
Me: "Yeah...I have to go to class..."
Juicehead: "Okay...I have to go, but my phone is dead and I don't know where my friends are."
Me: "Sorry, good luck."

I beat a bit around the bush with this one, but I strongly advise you not to. My mentality is, get in, and get the fuck out. Don't linger around the front door staring at the floor, dismiss the little bugger. Then Juicehead Nameless Man gave me the awkward one arm hug. THE FUCKING AWKWARD ONE ARMED HUG. 

We all know about this bitch. But it's probably the most appropriate for someone that you don't know. I would say this is your best way to seal the goodbye with the one armed hug. Don't forget the awkward side pat on the side that goes along with the one armed hug. Then promptly dismiss your shacker from your residence and bid them "Adieu!" Because they get to go embark on the "Walk of Shame", which really should be the "Stride of Pride."

Also, a word about exchanging numbers. You probably got the number the night before when you were somewhat coherent. No one likes exchanging digits in the morning, because that just creates more delayed awkward banter at the front door, especially if you don't know their name. Then you'll get a text once they leave saying, "Hey, this is Randy from last night, hope we can hang out again." Oh, good to know Randy, because I was really hoping that we could go get coffee sober so we can try to make ourselves feel better and give each other false hope that maybe we can have a relationship after a blacked out one night stand. Because when we go on that coffee date, all I'll be thinking about is your gangly body and you smelling like vomit and Sweet Tea Vodka.

So Ladies and Gentleman, a quick overview to prepare you for your next Awkward Morning After:
1. Drinking Tequila will lessen the odds of having an Awkward Morning After
2. If you do embark on the Tequila train, make sure your shacker leaves early. The later your shacker remains at your residence, the more awkward for the both of you, and makes it more humorous for your roommates.
3. At least walk them to the front door, unless the shacker has already made a run for it while you were still in a drunken coma. That way they don't have to ask where the front door is, much to your roommates amusement.
4. When saying goodbye, usually opt for the awkward hug, unless you feel appropriate to kiss them. Even a friendly wave will suffice for saying toodles.

If anyone has any other ideas or topics for me to blog about, don't hesitate to shoot me an email: g.mccone@hotmail.com

Syllabus Week Slopfest: 6 Days of "Sobriety"

Syllabus Week is known throughout college campuses as usually a very relaxed week with classes. Generally, the teachers don't do a lot of notes, and if there is homework, it's pretty minimal. Therefore, us students take advantage of this opportunity to drink. A lot. Some more than others, such as myself.

Every night was entertaining, and by every night, I mean Monday through Saturday. So here are some of the highlights that happened during this atrocious and monster of a week that was the death to my liver.

Monday: Started drinking at 1PM approximately after class. Spent an obscene amount of money at the bars. Blacked out and woke up to PCP's delight, on her couch.

Tuesday: Too many Cherry Vodka shots and ending the night at the Taco place eating only lettuce. Also, bringing a man home that is nameless and we won't mention. Mainly because he just passed out on my bed after a quick game of tongue twister.

Wednesday: Wasn't going to go out, but I blame PCP. Drank a disgusting amount of Bacardi Gold Rum at 11PM and proceeded to dance my face off at the bar. Also turned into one of the worst black outs of the week. A gentleman walked PCP and I home, but we think he had the mindset that we were going to have a threesome. He was promptly excused from my residence.

Thursday: Worst hangover day of the week, but I knew in my heart that I had to be a champion. Went to Hippie's boyfriend's party where there was fire hula hooping and a lot of drunk freshman girls. I threatened to spit on all of them. While walking to the bar to get my gig on, I wished a "happy thursday" to one beautiful lady, and she said "FUCK YOU BITCH," so I wanted to fight her. After the bar closed, I sat outside and had a smoke with some friends. The police thought these two gentlemen were fighting so they tackled them. Turns out they were just play wrestling. An uproar from the drunken WSU students at the police. I was staring off into oblivion, contemplating life obviously, and a tall blonde grenade thought I was staring her down, which in truth I wasn't. She attempts to pick a fight with me, poor choice betch. I start yelling at her back, and my friend had to take her away. I would have just sat on her anyway.

Friday: GOTTA GET DOWN ON FRIDAY. You betcha I did. Did not go to the bar, the line was outside of the parking lot full of drunk sluts and wannabee bros, not really my cup of tea. I spend the night wandering the streets with a gentleman who works at the liquor store, he's pretty swell, and helped me pick out what alcohol to put into a watermelon. Sounds like a keeper to me.

Saturday: Get sleazy. Day drinking was a must today. Not only was it pushing 98 degrees (90's band reference) but I was parched for some beer. My roommate and I venture over to a Rugby party that was close to our place of residence. We are intercepted by the WSU dance boy and his roommates. Take some shots there and some homemade beer that dance boy had made. Not too shabby actually, tasted a lot like apple cider. Eventually, we make it over to the party and witness a whole lot of beer chugging and can throwing. Dance boy cums with us, but is kicked out for being wasted. Whoopsie daisy. After Rugby party, it's time to get serious. I am currently hammered, and make a delicious whole wheat ham wrap dipped in too much mayonnaise (cellulite). You know we're going to get serious about drinking when my roommate buys a fifth of 151. The last time I had an encounter with 151, shit got real ugly, real quickly. Anyway back to the present, never underestimate the power of 151. You can only take a few shots of it to get a good buzz and that's all you really need. Everyone is feeling wonderful and drunk. Liquor store boy cums over and he and I venture to the bar. I make the poor decision and decide that I am not nearly drunk enough and the man pulls out a pint of Gentleman's Jack. You know this boy is classy. We are taking pulls while walking to the bar which is not too bright of both of us when we see the boys in blue walking straight towards us.

Cop #1: "Hey! What's that you got there!?"
Me: "Oh, you know...hehe"
Friend doing a ride a long for the school newspaper: "OH HEY GABBY!"
*Shit*
Cop #2: "You know that's a $250 citation for an open container right?"
Me: "Oh, no I did not know that officer"

They let that shit slide like butter. They probably should have given me a ticket, but I think they had too much on their platter with all the drunk freshmen acting a fool. Apparently, a thirty something couple had been partying at our place with a half gallon of Captain Morgan's Rum and as liquor store boy and I arrive back from the bar, we see a DUI taking place in front of our house. I run outside, barefoot mind you, and observe the scene. APPARENTLY the woman getting arrested was the thirty something wife of that guy who was partying at our house. The husband was across the street watching his wife get arrested, he sounds like a winner.

And that basically sums up that gross week, don't try this at home.

Who Let Gabby Out? The Start of My Senior Year In College

I AM BACK. BACK BACK BACK BACCCKKK. my DEEPEST apologizes fellow bloggers, for I have not blogged in almost two weeks. I feel terrible. I've been incredibly busy with moving back to Pullman and starting up school and what not.

I really need to try and make this whole blogging business a frequent thing, because I am constantly receiving word that I need to keep blogging more often. So I shall work on that.

In the meantime, if you have any questions or topics that you would like me to touch up on or discuss or answer, you can shoot mah drunk ass an email: g.mccone@hotmail.com. I love listening to other people's problems or questions.

I am officially starting my senior year at the gorgeous WSU, which really stands for "Wasted Students Unite." It's really bizarre to think that I've already spent three years of my life at this place. Also, I want to give a special shout out to my liver for being a trooper and holding out for so long. For everyone reading my blog, give your liver a little rub every now and then, they are, in my opinion, the most important organ in your body. They do a lot for your drunk ass, show a little appreciation now and then for christs sake.

I moved back to town about a week ago and have really just been working errry now and then and boozing. Most of the tricks here were doing sorority recruitment, so the pussy population was down for the count because they aren't allowed to drink for that week. So we go to the bars a few times and the poonani is hella scarce. BUT on the plus side, there's delicious men around, so that definitely makes up for it.

I know that I mentioned the act of day drinking in my earlier posts, but it was a flip and a flop this past weekend. We started around 1PM, and it was toasty as tits. We were all outside playing beer pong on our front lawn and gradually getting more and more drunk. One of my fellow roommates cracked open a nugget watermelon and proceeded to dump half of a fifth of watermelon vodka in that betch to soak. NOM NOM. Talk about a quick spodie. We have a sign out that we are dancing around with that says "YOU HONK, WE DRINK." Pullman just screams class. So here we are, drunk breezies dancing around with a sign and taking way too many shots of Tequila, just another typical Saturday in paradise. People begin to pass out, and the hula hoops start to come out. As the night continues, the police drive by our house a few times and give a friendly wave, they also honk, but they won't admit it of course. One of the officers comes out to give us a low down on the new nuisance complaint policies, but I think it's an excuse for him to come out and hula hoop with us and pose for pictures. Only in the Pullmonster can the cops get away with this.

It's only the first day of class, and I feel overwhelmed. Not from school work, but from the enormous population of whores that are infiltrating our campus. Every year, the shorts get shorter, and the shirts get more low cut. But I can't really say anything about that because I am infamous for wearing disgustingly short shorts. Only because I can get away with it because I have no butt crack. There should also be a picture of that on my next blog of my non existent booty meat. I like to give my readers a very descriptive idea of who they are reading about, that janky betch named Tron.

It's the second day of classes and I reek of alcohol...I think the people sitting next to me know too.

I have a damn good feeling that this blog is going to get very entertaining this year. After all, it is my senior year, and I gotta go out with a bang, even if that "bang" does mean jaundice.


Stay tuned for daily updates with the Syllabus Week Slopfest, cumming soon to a blog post near you!

Note: Every so often instead of saying "come or coming," I may instead switch that little o for a u and say "cum, or cumming." I know it's disgusting, and it's a bad habit, but I still find it way too amusing to stop. Sorry bout it yuccas.

I Need A Bloatation Device...Or To Simply Stop Drinking and Eating

Being bloated sucks. Like, fucking sucks. I feel that for some reason, I get more bloated than the average moron. It always happens at the most inconvenient times. Like when I'm out at a bar, or with a guy, or the worst,  in my fucking swimsuit.

This one time I was at this bar in a college area and i was incredibly intoxicated and I felt the bloating sneak up, like a fucking cheetah. And of course, I never expect when said bloating will happen, but I was very unprepared for that bitch to come. I was wearing an uber tight dress, and knew instantly I had to run to the ladies room.

I always think that I can somehow "push" out the evil bloatation, so being as drunk as I was, I tried to smash myself against the bathroom wall and the toilet paper dispenser. I immediately am thankful that I am drunk enough to realize that this would be incredibly inappropriate and awkward to do in a public area, so the privacy of my own bathroom stall seemed decent.

I don't really understand how this frequent bloating is always such a common factor in my life, but I have a feeling it has to do with my constant digestion of carbohydrates (my weakness) or over consumption of alcoholic beverages. I would go with the latter, but I love carbs so much, that wouldn't really surprise me if that was the clincher. I could eat an entire loaf of bread with butter and still not be satisfied.

Mischa Barton should watch her carb intake as well

I promised that I would talk about my experiences in Kirkland, so I'll go over that briefly. The first time I visited Kirkland was a sloppy one. I went with PCP and Sweetheart. We went to prefunk at our friends. I had my usual prefunk item, a liter of cheap white wine. I don't know why I insist on always drinking white wine. One time I did a power hour with a liter of white wine and was not let into the bar and carried home by my friends. Choo Choo! Back to Kirkland, PCP and her friend bought a fifth of Absolut and put it in the back of the trunk of my car. We parked and opened the trunk, the fifth rolled out of the back and smashed into a bagillion pieces. So we obviously had to run to the gas station to pick up Four Lokos. WHOMP WHOMP WHOMPP. I don't remember leaving the house to go to the bars. We go to this bar called Timeout, and buy drinks. I end up giggin' with some blonde trick. I'm semi blacked out by now. Then we venture on over to Tiki Joe's, which Sweetheart told us, we can never go before midnight. Now I understand. The place is small and compact, but everyone goes there after Timeout. By this time, PCP and I are both blacked out, and we have to enlist her little brother, Alfredo Cheese, to come pick us up and take us back to PCP's house. I told Alfredo that I would buy him donuts, which I still have not done.

Note to self: Buy Alfredo a box of Krispy Kremes

The second time I went out to Kirkland bars I didn't black out, but I was incredibly drunk. Tuesdays through Thursdays at Timeout they have two dollar well drinks. Which is absolutely mortifying and deadly. I bought two double Pineapple and Rum drinks. And then another two after that, obviously. While I was downing my drinks, I noticed an Orca whale on the dance floor. I thought that they were an endangered species, so we were in for a treat. Now this girl wasn't obese, and I don't really know why we started calling her an Orca whale, but maybe it was in the way she was dancing. She was bobbing her ass up and down like a tidal wave and acting like she was the best dancer in the bar. FALSE. So that was our entertainment at Timeout for a good chunk of time. There was also a guy there who was absolutely gorgeous. Sweetheart knew him from high school I believe. He looked like Chris Brown, popppinnnnnnn'. Anyway, all the pussies at the bar were following him around like catnip. I went outside to have a fag, and overheard girls talking about CB going to Tiki Joes and how they had to go introduce themselves. I wanted to burn our their eyeballs with the rest of my smoke. So we venture over to Tiki Joes and meet some gentleman who insist on buying us "Skittles" shots. This was after I bought my friend and I double Whiskey Sours. Fuck me running, I am feeling genuinely wasted. So I go up to the bar for shots, and CB plops right next to me. He asks me to buy him a shot. I tell him "No, and fuck you." Because number one, I'm wasted, number two, I hate men who know they're hot shit and can manipulate any stupid pussy to buy them drinks and do whatever they want. How infuriating. I AM WOMAN HEAR ME ROAR. Whomp. We end the night getting hot dogs at a place that was open late. I think my wiener was a concoction of cream cheese and BBQ sauce. It was heaven in a bun.

So a snippet of advice to my fellow readers:
. Do not eat a fuck wad of carbohydrates before wearing that "little black dress," or you'll end up leaning over a hard surface to "push" out that bloaty bitch.
. Don't let a CB look alike try to get your drunk ass to buy him drinks.
. Orca whales are known to make an appearance at bars, save Shamu!

Masturbation Only Burns 60 Calories?

God fucking damnit. Do you think it varies with the size of people? I was watching "Precious" the other day, and the actress Mo'Nique had a brief clip of her masturbating in the movie. That woman is fucking enormous, do you think she burns more calories than sixty? I'll bet. Lucky bitch.

I work as a Barista at a coffee stand right next to the Home Depot. We are not affiliated or employed with the Home Depot, but our stand is located right outside. Anyway, I get some incredibly bizarre people coming up to order coffee and have had some weird experiences at the stand that I thought I would share. The other day I had this Mexican man who didn't say much except pointing at the piece of coffee cake in the display and grunting. So I handed him his piece of coffee cake and he walked off towards the picnic table. Except he didn't eat the coffee cake. The fucking guy pulls it out and crumbles it on the table for the fucking birds.

A word about these little birds that are always outside of the coffee stand. They are stupid and annoying chickadees, and are abnormally porky. They are so fat from all the customers thinking how adorable it is that the birds will come and sit next to you with their beaks open and begging for food. Since when do birds beg for food? Then all the customers give them pieces of their pastries and hot dogs and they fly off. The birds will just loiter outside of my coffee stand and chirp their obese brains out and will occasionally fly inside the stand to piss me off. Bastards.

Anyway about the Mexican man, he crumbles the cake and walks inside the Home Depot. Now I'm pissed off because he just bought this pastry and wasted it on the fucking blubber birds. So I reluctantly go back to reading my magazine and about an hour later he comes out of the store. Here's the shocker, the guy picks up what is left of the coffee cake crumbs and puts it back in his little bag and starts eating the remains and walks off to his pick up truck. ARE YOU KIDDING ME!?

There isn't a bathroom in the coffee stand so I have to venture through the monstrosity of a store that Home Depot is. This place is fucking huge. But it's nice because I usually get to say hello to the cool kids that work at the HD and it's a nice little break for me. I get into the bathroom and immediately go to the second stall. I have a weird thing about bathrooms, I usually try and get the second stall. Not the first, the second. The first is   usually occupied and the third or others are either out of paper or someone doesn't know how to flush. While I'm in the bathroom, another woman comes into the stall on my left. You know that awkward point when you're in the bathroom with someone else and you kinda glance down either to see what shoes they're wearing or just stare at the wall next to you, praying that some awful and awkward bodily function doesn't accidentally come out? Or hoping that if you do happen to make a weird noise, you pray to god that you get out of the bathroom first so that they don't see you?

Well this woman that plopped her lard ass (I saw her cankles) in the stall next to me, exploded. I felt my stall rattle. After the first bomb, I could tell this woman was not holding back, nor was she stopping anytime soon. I'm not sure if she knew that there was another person in the bathroom with her at the time, or if she just wanted to announce her presence. I felt stuck, I couldn't move. I didn't know if I should wait until the bombing had ceased or make a run for it. I think she started clutching the stall walls on either side of her because I heard a smack right next to my head. All I had wanted to do was take a quick break from work and go to the restroom. But fucking Hiroshima had to make a direct hit at the Home Depot Women's Bathroom. It must have been the longest minute of my life until I realized that I couldn't take it any longer. It would only be a matter of time before the fumes would reach me. I made a really loud point of getting out of the stall and coughing awkwardly and washing my hands. The bombing came to a quick halt, and I sprinted out of the bathroom like a gazelle.

Sorry that was such an atrocious story, but I had to tell someone. It was too juicy to pass up.

One of the great things that I love about my job is the people watching. The types of people that come to shop at the Home Depot is insane. You have your average middle class families, the Mexican workers that hang out on the corner waiting to be picked up by contractors, adorable gay couples, women who insist on wearing platform heels, and of course, the occasional crackheads.

I had a transsexual come up to the stand yesterday. She had on this great white business suit and these enormous heels. Props to her for walking in them. And she had an ass bigger than mine, I was obvi hella jell.

Since I usually am working during the midday, I can never enjoy the nice and rare weather that Seattle is experiencing, so I signed up for a two week tanning package. My mother always warns me about the dangers of tanning beds and UV rays and I always tell her that I'll be okay. She's also worried about my drinking too...maybe it's time to listen up. Now I normally don't tan indoors often at all for two reasons. One, it hurts my budget, and interferes with my alcohol purchases. Two, I have a fear that I'm going to somehow get locked in the cheap plastic tanning bed and burn like a fried piece of chicken like in Final Destination 3.

FRRRRYYYYYYYYYYYY BITCH

Although I know that scene in the movie is absolutely horrifying and hearing their skin sizzle like eggs being fried sunny side up, this song always pops in my head when I'm either thinking about this scene, or I'm tanning.

SOOO KRISPPYYY

I know the song is talking about Kia's swag and shit, but I always thinking about burning to a crisp. Like the bitches in Final Destination. Or whenever I forget to put on SPF. WHOMP. 

Thanks for reading, my little marshmallow peeps. You guys are "as bestest" (NIKKI MINAJ)

Next topic of discussion: Krunked In Kirkland

I Was One Janky Fifteen Year Old: Looking Back On Myspace Memories

I just logged into my old Myspace account. Somehow I miraculously remembered my password and username, and logged in to find a plethora of embarrassing memories.

The things I noticed:

1. Myspace Status Updates: My status is, Gabby McCone is..."bein' hated on cause she's a chub chub."
WHAT THE FUCK DOES THAT EVEN MEAN?! Also, my mood is fascinated. What the fuck am I fascinated with?

2. Myspace pictures: These are just awful. The beginning of my drinking career. All these photos involve my friends and I throwing up peace signs with pouty lips with bottles of Mikes Hard Lemonade in the basements of our parent's houses.

POUUTTYY LIPPSSS AND PEEACCEE SIGNSSS

ew. 

Not to mention, in the beginning when I first had Myspace, I posted some slutty pictures of myself in tiny shorts and a tank top, this mind you, was when I was fifteen. I didn't know about the creeps checking out my profile and seeing what they were seeing. I just liked the attention, and the complements. That's when my mom discovered that her pride and hairy joy is becoming a Cuban slooter.

3. Myspace Messages: These are a doozy. I cannot believe how many people would randomly message or try and add you through Myspace. No wonder my parents made me take my slutty pictures down when I was fifteen. Not only that, but how I was talking, I sound like a complete moron, and completely unintelligent. I can't spell anything, and I used words like "cuz, ya, ur, kewl." I CANNOT STAND WHEN PEOPLE TALK LIKE THIS. And miraculously, a lot of people still do. Has anyone seen that movie with Luke Wilson called "Idiocracy?" It's absolutely hilarious, and absolutely true if we do not get our shit together in the next twenty years. If you haven't seen it, I strongly recommend it. Although, it's kind of depressing in the truth of the movie.

But I can't believe how much fucking drama happened on Myspace. I am literally pouring through hundreds of messages from people back and forth being sneaky and catty. Talking about boyfriends and backstabbing friends and "what she said to my boyfriend when she was drunk," blah blah blah. Myspace politics were absolutely absurd.

HAHA also, I just came across this message with this guy in highschool (I was a senior and he was a freshman) and he was trying to come on to me and I was completely oblivious.

Here's how the conversation started.


Freshman: 
Date: Apr 30, 2008 5:23 PM
"wen i first saw u i had to change my name to charlie"


Gabby:
Date: Apr 30, 2008 9:27 PM
"i don't get it..?"


Freshman:
Date: Apr 30, 2008 5:29 PM
"ur supose to say y k lets start ova wen i first saw u baby i had to change my name to charlie"


Gabby:
Date: Apr 30, 2008 9:29 PM
"ookay, why?"


Freshman:
Date: Apr 30, 2008 5:31 PM
"cuz wen i first saw u i knew u were my angel"


LOLOLOLOLOLOLOL

4. Myspace Surveys: Do you remember these? When people made you fill them out and give awkward answers to situations that you didn't even know about at that age?
For example:

do you's
1. do you think im cute?
2. do you want to kiss me?
3. do you want to cuddle with me?
4. do you want to hook up with me?

are we's
1. are we aquaintences?
2. are we friends?
3. are we hook ups?
4. are we in a relationship?
5. are we gonna have kids? i

am i's
1. am i smart?
2. am i hott?
3. am i funny?
4. am i interesting?
5. am i datable?


have you ever?
1. have you ever thought about me?
2. have you ever thought there might be an "us"?
3. have you ever thought about hookin up with me?
4. have you ever found yourself wanting a kiss from me?
5. have you ever wished i were there?

are you's
1. are you attracted to me?
2. are you happy you know me?
3. are you mad at me?
4. are you thinkin bout me?
5. are you going to repost this so that i will return the favor? 

Aren't these fucking awkward? Especially when people who are really unattractive and someone you are not very good friends with fills it out regarding you. Then what the fuck are you supposed to do? Return the favor? Absolutely not.

I also got one of these in a random message in 2008:

MAKE OUT WEEKEND!!!!
whoever ruins this will be single and your boobs/penis will shrink for the next 4 years...national MAKE OUT WEEKEND this Friday-monday morning and if you repost this as a bulletin in the the next 7 minutes, you will be kissed by someone who really likes you and who you really like this weekend.


I would absolutely love if my breasts shrunk a size or two. 

Butttt some of the surveys I will admit, were fun, and a great way to pass the time when I didn't want to work on my Chemistry homework. So I'm going to post one that I filled out several years ago, and then write my answers to it now, several years later.

These are my responses, more than five years ago. 

From: GABIZZLE
Date: Apr 22, 2006 7:15 PM

A N S W E R - T R U T H F U L L Y
1. Do you like anyone?: uhm yes. duh. haha.
2. Do they know it?: you betcha.
3. Simple or complicated?: what? whats simple or complicated?

IN - T H E - L A S T - M O N T H - H A V E - Y O U
5. Bought something: yeah. today i bought a chicken burger haha
6. Gotten sick?: no actually not. well i had the sniffles for a bit lol.
7. Been hugged? of course
8. Felt stupid?: every fucking day i feel stupid.
9. Talked to an ex?: nope
10. Missed someone: yeah.
11. Failed a test: hahaha yeah i have.
13. Danced: yeah! i dance all the time. you will never catch me not dancing.
27. Snuck out?: yuuup
28. Sat and looked at the stars?: yes. best time ever.

M A N N E R S
29. Do you swear/curse? all the time.
30. Do you ever spit?: hahaha yeah. its disgusting.
31. You cook your own food?: on occasion. when im in the "chef" mood.
32. You do your own clothes?: sure.
34. You like pepsi or coke?: diet pepsi or diet coke
35. You're happy with your hair life?: yeah. i like the natural look of my hair actually. translation. the sex hair. haha.
37. You spend your money wisely?: yeah i do actually. im extremely cautious when it comes to spending money.
38. Do you like to swim?: hahaha. uhm.... sorta. well nicole would know the answer to that question hahaha.
39. When you get bored do you call a friend: yeah. all the time.

D O - Y O U - P R E F E R'S
41. Flowers or angels?: id have to say both.
42. Gray or black?: black
43. Color or black and white photos?: both. i cant decide i love them both alot.
44. Lust or love?: both again haha
45. Sunrise or sunset?: probably sunset. although sunrise is beautiful especially if your in like hawaii or mexico.
46. M&Ms or Skittles?: both. it depends on my mood. if im craving something fruity or chocolaty.
48. Staying up late or waking up early?: hellla staying up late.
49. Being hot or cold?: oo thats a hard one. id have to say hot though.
50. Winter or Fall?: winter.
51. Left or right?: right
52. Having 10 acquaintances or 2 best friends? 2 best buddies
53. Sunshine or rain?: both. it depends again i guess.
54. Vanilla ice cream or chocolate ice cream?: i like both alot. i like them swirled together though probably.

H A V E - Y O U - E V E R
Made out for more than 5 minutes?: actually to tell you the truth i havent. it seemed like hours but it was like 2 minutes haha.
Slept in a bed of the opposite sex?: yuuup
Hooked up in the woods?: no. but i know someone who has.. hahahahaha.
Drank a bottle of alcohol by yourself?: ooo yes. gooood times my friend.
Been Dumped? negatory
Stolen money from a friend?: hell no
Slept naked?: yeah hahaha. summer.
Been in a fist fight?: no. i wanted to really punch this one girl though. HELLA bad. hahaha. but. no.
Snuck out of your house?: not MY house in renton. but my grandmas house alot and usually my homies houses.
Had a crush on a teacher?: gross. all of my teachers have been fat. old. ugly. balding. stupid.
Seen someone die?: no and i really hope i dont.
Been on an airplane?: yeah
Slept all day?: nope. the latest was like 12 haha
Missed someone so much it hurt?: oh yes all the time.
Fallen asleep during school?: for sure. math. history. spanish. language arts. worst teachers ever anyways haha.
Been lonely?: yeah
Cheated in a game? hahaha yeah
Been to the ER?: nope
Been in a car accident?: hahahaha yeah several. well recently yesterday lol.
Had detention?: middle school detention i suppose haha
Cried yourself to sleep?: yeah.. more than once sadly :(
Done something you told yourself you'd never do again?: yup
Sung in the shower?: yayuh
Hooked up with more than 2 people in 1 weekend?: nope lol
Kissed a complete stranger?: haha yeah
Laughed so hard you cried?: hahaha yes all the time. with all of the homies.
Not been able to remember your night?: yayuh
Cheated on a bf/gf?: nope
Regretted hurting someone: yeah
Regretted loving someone?: yeah. i have actually.
Been SUPER happy? YES!
Is your phone right beside you? afirmative.
Do you miss someone? yes. right now.
Do you wish you were somewhere else? yeah. back at keeleys.
Do you have plans for tonight? yessss. chillin with my boyy.
Are you wearing makeup? yuup.
Are you wearing chapstick? nope i need some though.
Are you cold? no im actually super hot right now.
Are you tired? exhausted
Are you excited? no im really unenthusiastic right now haha
Are you watching t.v.? nope im about to though cause i have no life whatsoever and its a beautiful day.
Are you wearing pajamas? nope
Who's the last person you textMsgd? zak
Who's the last person that called you? mi madre

PAST
Recently done anything you regret? yeah
Ever lied? all the time.
Ever spit at someone? haha yeah
Ever kick something living? yup.
Ever trip over your own feet? everytime i walk hahaha
Ever had your nails done? no i really want to though. next formal dance i got to for surre.
Ever thrown up because you cried so hard? i think i have actually.

TODAY
Have you cursed? of course
Have you yelled at someone? my mom
Have you gotten mad at someone? yeah cause i couldnt spend the night at keeleys. erghhh still mad.
Have you cried? no
Have you called more than 3 people? yeah
Have you msgd more than 3 people? yuup
Have you eaten anything gross? nope




And my responses now are:


From: Tron
Date: Jul 26, 2006 4:09 PM

A N S W E R - T R U T H F U L L Y
1. Do you like anyone? Myself. 
2. Do they know it?: I tell her every night. 
3. Simple or complicated?: Complicated. 

IN - T H E - L A S T - M O N T H - H A V E - Y O U
5. Bought something: Yes, new clothes! I was sick of the potato sacks i was wearing. 
6. Gotten sick?: No.
7. Been hugged? My mom hugs me. 
8. Felt stupid?: Same answer as five years ago. 
9. Talked to an ex?: Yes. 
10. Missed someone: Yes.
11. Failed a test: No. 
13. Danced: Same as five years ago. 
27. Snuck out?: I have no need to.
28. Sat and looked at the stars?: Yes. I am a romantic. 

M A N N E R S
29. Do you swear/curse? Every other word is fuck. 
30. Do you ever spit?: Too much chunky spit. 
31. You cook your own food?: Might as well call me "Gabby Childs."
32. You do your own clothes?: Yes. 
34. You like pepsi or coke?: I prefer Ginger Ale.  
35. You're happy with your hair life?: I haven't had any knots today.
37. You spend your money wisely?: I don't know why I said what I said five years ago. I absolutely do not spend my money wisely. I do not want to think about how much money I have spent on alcohol in the past five years. 
38. Do you like to swim?: I need flotation devices. 
39. When you get bored do you call a friend?: Or eat. 

D O - Y O U - P R E F E R'S
41. Flowers or angels?: 90% Angel, 10% Devil. 
42. Gray or black?: Red. 
43. Color or black and white photos?: Both. 
44. Lust or love?: Lust, always the clincher. 
45. Sunrise or sunset?: Pullman sunset, Sasquatch sunrise. 
46. M&Ms or Skittles?: M&Ms, Skittles always stick to my teeth, and I have weird smelling breath after eating a couple packs. 
48. Staying up late or waking up early?: I stay up way too late. 
49. Being hot or cold?: Lukewarm bathwater. 
50. Winter or Fall?: Winter. 
51. Left or right?: Right. 
52. Having 10 acquaintances or 2 best friends? I like having both. I have a lot of "acquaintances," which we all know means the people that you met while drinking and the people you can only hang out with while drinking. Therefore you contact them usually only when consuming beverages. 
53. Sunshine or rain?: Sun!
54. Vanilla ice cream or chocolate ice cream?: I'm a white girl, definitely. 

H A V E - Y O U - E V E R
Made out for more than 5 minutes?: My response five years ago is embarrassing. But yes, indeed I have. 
Slept in a bed of the opposite sex?: Yes. 
Hooked up in the woods?: Yes. 
Drank a bottle of alcohol by yourself?: Absolutely not, that's absurd. 
Been Dumped? Ha, yes. 
Stolen money from a friend?: That is quite rude. 
Slept naked?: Yes. Also, woken up naked. Always a nice kick start to the day. 
Been in a fist fight?: Yes. I boxed a girl. I also was in the middle of a gentleman's dispute outside of the bar. Throwin' bows.
Snuck out of your house?: Too many times to count. 
Had a crush on a teacher?: Lusted.
Seen someone die?: No.
Been on an airplane?: Yes.
Slept all day?: Basically.
Missed someone so much it hurt?: Yes.
Fallen asleep during school?: And drooled/been snoring. 
Been lonely?: I feel like I should insert a song clip. 
Cheated in a game? Yes. 
Been to the ER?: Yes. 
Been in a car accident?: Yes.
Had detention?: Yes.
Cried yourself to sleep?: Yes. 
Done something you told yourself you'd never do again?: Never try and finish a half gallon. 
Sung in the shower?: Ha, yes. 
Hooked up with more than 2 people in 1 weekend?: WHOMP WHOMP CHOMP CHOO CHOO. yeah. 
Kissed a complete stranger?: College, baby. 
Laughed so hard you cried?: Errday. 
Not been able to remember your night?: Not been able to remember who my roommates are. 
Cheated on a bf/gf?: No.
Regretted hurting someone: Yes.
Regretted loving someone?: I do not think I have ever been in love. 
Been SUPER happy? I AM ALWAYS A RAY OF FUCKING SUNSHINE. 
Is your phone right beside you? Yes.
Do you miss someone? Right about now. 
Do you wish you were somewhere else? I am pretty content.  
Do you have plans for tonight? Mobbin' to get dinner with the fam. 
Are you wearing makeup? What's that?
Are you wearing chapstick? ^^
Are you cold? Lukewarm bathwater. 
Are you tired? Pooped. 
Are you excited? I am extremely melancholy. 
Are you watching t.v.? No.
Are you wearing pajamas? No.
Who's the last person you textMsgd? Jpro. 
Who's the last person that called you? Mommatron. 

PAST
Recently done anything you regret? Unbelievable amounts of regret. 
Ever lied? Yes. 
Ever spit at someone? Keep talkin' shit, wouldn't you know. 
Ever kick something living? Yes. 
Ever trip over your own feet? Drunk, sober, yes. 
Ever had your nails done? Just about the girliest thing I have ever done. 
Ever thrown up because you cried so hard? Drinking so hard. 

TODAY
Have you cursed? FUCK FUCK FUCKKKK
Have you yelled at someone? Mom. 
Have you gotten mad at someone? Mom, for pointing out my pimple. 
Have you cried? No. 
Have you called more than 3 people? People call me, ya feel meh?>
Have you msgd more than 3 people? Yes. 
Have you eaten anything gross? Nothing is gross. 

5. Myspace Friend's Top 8, 16, 32, Etc, Etc: When you first start Myspace, you organize your friends in order in what is called a "Top 8." You basically rank your friends from number one to number eight. This caused a lot of drama, especially when switching around your "Top 8." Getting in a fight with a friend, move them down a few spaces. Then they would message you all pissed off "WHY THE FUCK DID YOU MOVE ME DOWN YOUR LIST!??!"

Then "Tom" (the creator of this atrocity of a website) started designing a new "Top 8" to increase the numbers so you could have ALL YOUR FUCKING BEST FRIENDS ON YOUR TOP 8.

Look at this fucker, Myspace "Scene Mirror Picture"

Now we had the ability to have "Top 16, Top 32, Top 4whatever." This is starting to get absolutely preposterous. In short, back in the day if you really wanted to start drama and piss off a friend, move them down the "Top 8" list, then take them off the list completely. This is a sure fire way to ignite any kind of uproar within a circle of friends, it makes for a very entertaining scenario.

In conclusion...


Myspace was the first social media website we really actually full on experienced when growing up (Unless you count "Xanga," what the fuck was the point of that website anyway?" Now we have Facebook and Twitter. TWEET TWEET TWEEEET. Tweet me, betch.