WHOA.

In any event, this is seriously the best Vin Diesel has ever looked.

SYYYYKE

Q: Which one is the real skank?
A: Trick question! They both are.

This hot fuckery mess of a couple is my (not so secret) guilty pleasure. I don't know what to say about them, really. Aside from Doug Hutchinson's perpetual child-raper eyes, his 17 year old wife makes me sad on the inside because of her "trashy old lady meets Toddlers with Tiaras" look. In spite of this I can't stop myself from reading every article ever written about these two trainwreck a-holes.

We can all agree that this is going no where good, I can tell you that much. The real fun is guessing how it will all end: divorce, drug overdose, adopting a Korean baby and naming it Hepatitis B, or all of the above?

Pegacorn Dream

I had this dream last night. I was in the house I grew up in. It was dark outside. In the backyard, there was a horse. (This is not normal.) There was something strange about this horse. It had a long flowing mane that fell to both its flanks... no... they were wings! It was a Pegasus!

It moved away every time it caught sight of me. But I caught a glimpse of... could it be? It was also a unicorn! It was a Pegacorn! Unisus! Pegacorn!

I ran to grab a camera and started taking pictures, as it kept dashing here and there. I struggled for good framing and composition as there were only a few shots left (my father still uses film cameras, you see). It tried to climb up a ladder to the roof, but alas it did not know that Pegacorns unisi Pegacorns can't climb ladders. Instead, it destroyed half the house (on account of it being so heavy on its diet of space dust).I kept snapping as it ran away. I got lots of pictures of its ass.

Take some lessons, ladies.

Hey witch! You're doing it wrong.

Sweet Dreams!

He's single, ladies!

It Aint Over Until the Fat Lady something something

Hey, so, I know I haven't been around much.

I stopped updating my blog because...sigh. I don't want to lie to you. I stopped updating my blog because I was kidnapped by legal aliens and taken to Wisconsin to learn the ancient rituals of cheese worship. I know you can understand.

My February's Eve Resolution is to start updating this worthless crapfest regularly again.

So with THAT being said, let me go ahead and show you this:

This is my wedding photo. I will give you 500 million drachma if you can guess which one is me.

HINT: sexy denims

Oooh Yes.

Perhaps this is how angels actually fall from heaven? 

Yes.

In case you didn't already have enough to be afraid of, I am sharing my most favorite photo of recent days.

Oh and hello, how are you, how have you been? Sorry I didn't call sooner. I've been busy for the past 4 months. You know how it is.

Anywhofuckingcaresway, enjoy.

Magic vs Science

Who would win?

OH MY GOD MY HEART JUST EXPLODED

I named him Lazarus and I will ride him while combing his mustache for always.*

*that's what she said

SWIMMY!

Oh god, this cat.

I want to drink beers and BBQ with this cat. I want to spray-paint the side of an elementary school with this cat. I want to get matching sweatshirts that say "Super Donkey Jockey" with this cat. I want to go to a bar in the middle of nowhere and get into an arm wrestling competition with this cat. Etc., etc.

You're my hero, Swimmy.

I hate when this happens.

Don't you hate it when you're trying to take a photo of your neighborhood and a fucking seagull crashes the photo?

Click the bird to enjoy.

Dumpster Cat

I think my cat assumes I am going to lose my job soon and no longer be able to afford to eat because every single night for the last week she is getting inside the kitchen garbage can and removing whatever disgusting half-eaten microwavable spinster meal I attempted to throw out the night before.

I woke up this morning and found the recently discarded two-week old spaghetti noodles were now conveniently located in and around her food bowl. All the garlic cloves that are normally on the kitchen window sill were scattered about my house like Easter eggs. I'd like to think this is her way of saying she will cook me a-spicy a-meatball-a Italian dinner for two, but only if I find all the missing ingredients.

The other new fascination my lil' dumpster kitty has of late is with leftover pizza boxes and believing that they are not garbage but are in fact a room at a 5 star hotel. She used the most recently discarded box as a bed for a full week and when I eventually distracted her long enough to throw it away, she knocked the trash can over while I slept and rescued it. I had to lure her into the bedroom to lock her in  while I snuck out of the house to throw it away.  As I always (never) say, deception and unconditional love go hand in hand.    Or was it Decepticon?

Her final trick for the week was getting the bread I store above the fridge onto the floor and after chewing a hole through the plastic, eating almost half of it.  Doesn't she worry about what all those carbs will do to her thighs?

Happy Saint Patrick's BLAH BLAH BLAH

If you're going to go out tonight and get wasted on shitty green beer, at least dress for success. This guy knows what's up.    Keep it classy up there in heaven, grandpa!

Happy Holidays!

Christmas Spider says, "Have a great fucking Christmas, everybody!"

He is wasted. I love him so much.

Follow him on twitter.

It's Butterflies and Seagulls Friday!

Okay seriously, the Russian singer has some competition and it's in the form of Mark Gormley.

This beautiful hunk of a singer has found the trifecta of ingredients to make a perfect video: Butterflies, Seagulls, and mustache. DONE. I'll take ten.

Please watch him and love him forever. I want my very own pet Mark Gormley.

My Goddamn Cat

Here is a shocker. I own a cat. (see above)

My cat whose legal name is Violet (but can also be referred to as Kittymuffins, Kitty Mitty, Princess Kittyface, Lil KittyMitty McMuffins, and monkeybutt) has started to leave threatening messages for me while I am at work.  I thought I should let you all know in case I turn up dead in a ditch somewhere in the next few days.

I get home every night from work at around the same time, partially because I have to get to my neighborhood by 7 PM if I plan to find legal parking but also because I know if I am not home by a certain time to feed that furry feline whore, she will use her claws to scratch "Die Bitch" into my hardwood floors.

In her typical stuck-up cat fashion, she likes to toy with my heart to trick me to do her bidding. She is all cutesy meowface for the first 60 seconds I am home. Snuggle, purr, mew, repeat. That is of course until I get within a 3 foot radius of her food bowl, then she begins clawing her way out of my grip with the intensity of a jaguar. I have to drop her stupid little body onto the kitchen floor to avoid getting my face clawed off and so I can use my free hands to scoop her overpriced fish shaped food chunks into the metal bowl for her to devour.

Then, I wait for the face...sigh.

This is the face that she always gives me before she eats to routinely let me know how disappointed she is in my ability to provide for her. She walks up the bowl, sniffs, then turns around and looks up at me like, "This is the best you can do?" I can almost feel her choking down her disappoint as she turns back around and begins to nibble on the apparently sub-par food choice.

How did I get so lucky?

Guilty as charged.

Sometimes I approach the reality of my unshaven legs like that of an ostrich with their head in the sand. I think that just because I don't really notice my own leg hair, no one else will. This includes the days I wear mini skirts. I. live. on. the. fucking. edge.

That is of course until I step into the sunlight, look down and instantly become mortified. Luckily not having a boyfriend means the only people this leg hair affects is any new potential boyfriends and let's face it, fuck those jerks.

Anyway, shaving can suck it.

Time to get your 'scopes on

Today's birthday (March 9): This month, something amazing happens: You communicate the things that bother you, and loved ones change their behavior. This is accomplished in part by writing these requests in a letter scribbled with your own blood and stapling it to their dog.

Aries (March 21-April 19): You'll feel powerful when you make something new. You'll feel even more powerful when you blow it the fuck up.

Taurus (April 20-May 20): Make time for love, and love will stretch that time in wonderful ways. Just to be sure to bring an extra pair of pants.

Gemini (May 21-June 21): There's a lot that has to happen before you can put your thoughts into action. You need money, time and a good body double. Take your time with this. You really can't afford to go back to jail.

Cancer (June 22-July 22): You control how quickly you move up in the world by monitoring what you do. You just wish this escalator would move faster.

Leo (July 23-Aug. 22): However much you're moving your body, turn it up. You need to be strong mentally and physically for challenges ahead. Not everyone has to lead a marketing meeting while running in place, so be prepared.

Virgo (Aug. 23-Sept. 22): A prideful person you know may be making a mistake. Others want to tear this person down. You, however, build a shrine celebrating their mistakes instead.

Libra (Sept. 23-Oct. 23): There is logic behind your decision to stay away from a certain person. Stand by it. That person most definitely ate a greasy burrito for lunch.

Scorpio (Oct. 24-Nov. 21): Remember not to expect others to have the same goals and standards. Your desire to eat that many hot dogs in one sitting truly is what makes you unique.

Sagittarius (Nov. 22-Dec. 21): It's unlikely that you'll fall into a groove over the next few days, but that's a good thing because that groove is about 200 feet deep and completely full of snakes.

Capricorn (Dec. 22-Jan. 19): The thing you used to enjoy so much is now becoming slightly tedious. This is just a signal that it is time to modify your schedule. Also, if you come home later you'll be able to avoid your wife altogether.

Aquarius (Jan. 20-Feb. 18): You deserve to get on track now. Set a deadline and tell people about it. Include it in the next memo to your coworkers entitled "10 Days to Stop Wasting Copy Paper or Else".

Pisces (Feb. 19-March 20): An event is too important to deal with casually. Make specific plans. You'll pull off something grand. Wearing a top hat never hurts either.

Thank you, interwebs.

Unless you live under a rock (or don't spend 70 hours a week on the interwebs like I do) you've probably seen this guy already. I don't give a shit about you though. This is about ME.

Everything about this guy's facial expressions is what I want to be when I grow up. I want to enter work everyday singing like this and making those faces. I want to interrupt board meetings by standing up and belting this at the top of my lungs.

You get the point. Listen!