The Liebster Award

Guys, you are now reading the blog of an award winner. Yeah, you got that right AN AWARD WINNER! Don’t worry, I’m not going to become an egomaniac or anything but just know that I will hence forth be known as Rosie Award Winning Blog Owner Billings. Hold on a moment while I adjust my monocle and top hat.

OK, fine. The Liebster Award is kind of like a Tag You’re It kind of award for bloggers with less than 200 followers. A blogger tags you, you answer their questions, create some of your own and then tag 11 other bloggers. If you want a way better description of the Liebster Award (My Dearest Award for my fellow German peeps) you can check out this lovely blog right. Over. Here. I’ve been given The Liebster Award twice. The first time I had no idea what I was so suppose to do, spazzed out, said thanks and forgot about it. This time though…This time I got it figured out. So in fairness I’m giving credit to two of the coolest chicks in the blogosphere, so click on Tea for Unsweetened Tea and Michelle for the Girly Gamer and check out their blogs. Now. It’s ok, I’ll wait for you.

So the only problem is, sorry I decided to continue on without you, is that I don’t know many other bloggers. The two I usually converse with are the two that nominated me so well, this leaves us in a bit of a pickle. So I'm tagging Jody Beth at Jody Chic because she's got some AMAZING and adorable outfits. I need more blogger friends.

Rules of the Liebster Award:

1. List 11 facts about yourself.

2. Answer the 11 questions given to you.

3. Ask 11 new questions for the bloggers you nominate for the award.

4. Choose 11 bloggers with 200 or less followers to nominate.

5. Go to each blogger’s page and let them know about the award.

6. Thank the person who nominated you and link back to their blog

7. No track backs

11 Random Facts

1. I like Glee. Except for Rachel Berry, she makes me want to steal candy from babies and not help old people cross the street.  

2. I get distracted by huge boobs and I’m not sure if that’s a good thing since I am also a busty chick. Example: One time at the Casino, “Chris” and I were playing the virtual Black Jack machine and I missed a few bets because I couldn’t stop staring at the computerized dealers computerized fake boobs. Also, she was pretending to flirt with imaginary people behind me and that was kind of funny to watch and irritating because the attention should always be on me.

3. Sometimes, I wonder what it would be like a day in the life of my cat. I don’t mean like, nap, scratch the couch, and annoy the dogs. I mean as in what she’s thinking about when she’s sitting in front of a wall and just staring at it or when she’s walking in circles down the hallway.  

4. I’m really not that interesting.  

5. I got drunk when I was 11. It’s a really embarrassing story that involves me, the Catholic Church and mimosas. My dad LOVES telling this story to just about anyone and that's all that I will say about that.

6. I like to do funny voices, especially when I’ve been drinking. Although, there are times like at the casino. There’s a Betty Boop game that “Chris” and I discovered and now he glares at me when I say, “You found my treshah chest!” in that Betty Boop voice.

7. I fall asleep when texting people. I don’t mean like I have narcolepsy, I mean as in I’m tired but too polite to say, “Bitch, let me sleep!” Instead, I kind of just stop talking in mid conversation and wake up to a few “Hello? Did you face plant the pillow?” texts.

8. I use Twitter to stalk celebrities. Not really much stalking I can do from Oklahoma though…we don’t get many celebrities ‘round these parts. Except last year when Johnny Depp came to visit and everyone that wanted to stalk him all the sudden got busy. And then a certain friend said she wasn’t going to the parade that was in his honor where he would be but then turns out she did. Let’s all glare for a moment.

9. I REALLY hate Rachel Berry.

10. Sometimes when people tell me they have a certain song stuck in their head I like to sing (or text) lyrics of other songs, thus creating a mash up of multiple songs they can only hear. You’re welcome world.

11. I’m addicted to overly surgary bakery cakes and frosting. I swear it’ll be the death of me and may put me in a diabetic coma one day, but it’ll be worth it.

Questions from Tea:

1. What’s the most recent thing you’ve purchased? A giant bottle of Ginger Ale and We Bought A Zoo on DVD. Don’t judge me.

2. What’s the most important electronic item you own? My flux capacitor. If only I could find a Delorean to put it in.

3. What’s your favorite guilty pleasure TV show? Any of the House Wives of Living Off My Husbands Money and to Make Myself Relevant I Have My Own Clothing Line, Book and Single Coming Out shows.  

4. Which book are you currently loving? None, I’m stuck reading textbooks and HATE THEM ALL.

5. Best piece of advice you’ve ever been given? My dad gave me the best advice when I started college. Along with the you’ll be great and take your time figuring out what you want to be (ha, I beat he’s eating those words right now…) he also told me, “Watch out for college boys, they’re only after one thing.” When I asked what that one thing was after a brief awkward moment he said, “Money.”

6. Pop up toaster or toaster oven? Pop up toaster, that shit is instant and I live in ‘Murica where crap needs to be done right now.  

7. Have you ever had or wanted a non-traditional pet? I had a gecko. I changed his names several times from Reptar to Godzilla. He screamed when I fed him too many live crickets and my mom hated him. She loved my brothers stupid turtle. Ertle the turtle got a graveside burial with a tiny American flag when he died. Reptar/Godzilla got a Walmart bag and was tossed in the trash can. I’m not bitter or anything.

8. How do you take your coffee? With a crap ton of flavor and whipped cream, basically the part of the coffee that I want in my drink is the caffeine.

9. Which movie villain would you be for a day, and why? Mystique from X-Men. Come on, to have the ability to change what you look like just by thinking about it would be AWESOME. I would go to Sam’s Club, get a free sample, run behind something, change and go back for more samples. If we had a Trader Joe’s you can bet your ass I would do that trick with the free booze samples they give out.

10. Chinese or Mexican? (I’m hungry and trying to decide which leftovers I want for lunch. No, I don’t have either in my fridge, but I’m pretending I do.) Chinese, eggrolls are the bomb.com.

11. Which post from your blog are you most proud of, and why? Nerf Gun Etiquette. I had been tossing around the idea of starting a blog but didn’t think I had any funny material to entertain the world with. Then “Chris” shot me square in the eyeball with a Nerf bullet and history was made.

11 New Questions

1) Will you bake me a batch of chocolate chip cookies?

2) Do you think I can pull off red cowboy boots?

3) If you could be any animal what would you be and why?

4) If you were a professional wrestler, what song would you play as you walked into the ring?

5) Where do babies come from?

6) What is your proudest moment? (see, I’m not a complete weirdo).

7) What do you do to cheer yourself up?

8) Do you think a vanilla milkshake is boring?

9) Would you ever shoot me in the eyeball with a Nerf bullet?

10) What is your ideal job?

11) If you could travel ANY WHERE in the world, where would you go and what would you do once you where there?

In conclusion, thank you Tea and Michelle for the award. I really appreciate that off all the people you thought of me. It really means a lot.

Seriously, thank you.

Opposite Day

Therapist asked that before my next session with her she wanted me to read a chapter from a book about depression and also participate in what she called “opposite day.” Do you have that perplexed look on your face as well? Yeah, so did I when she brought it up. I honestly had no idea what she meant by opposite day. As she explained it, it seemed more like a game except I would be the only one playing and there was no prize at the end. Well, if you include being thoroughly embarrassed a prize then YAY I’M A WINNER!

Basically, opposite day was a day out of the week of my choosing. I was still a tiny bit confused and she asked if I was a lefty or righty. I told her righty and she said for the whole I was to use my left hand for EVERYTHING. Brushing my teeth, petting my dogs, throat punching assholes…you know the normal stuff I do on the weekend, except it would be done with my non dominate left hand. As therapist explained this would be an activity to get myself out of my head and focus my energy and attention on something else.

I told my mom about it and that I decided Saturday would be my opposite day and then told her how awkward being in public would probably be. She, being the sly fox that is she, waited about 10 minutes and then said her and I should go out for breakfast since I was off Saturday. Did I make the connection? Nope, not until a few minutes later and figured, eh, it’ll be entertaining to eat pancakes with good old lefty.

When I told “Chris” about opposite day he said I should take a step further and wear a dress (since I’m a jeans and Chuck Taylors kind of lady). Mom ended up canceling breakfast plans because of an emergency with her bestie but then my bestie stepped in and we made plans for shopping, dinner and a movie.

Everything took twice as long for me to complete. Brushing my teeth with left hand was a comedy routine all in it self. I think brushed my entire face before getting to even one tooth. After about 15 minutes I gave up and used right hand because my teeth just did not feel clean at all. Then I decided since I have straight hair I was going to go for big curly hair. What normally takes me 30 minutes to accomplish took a lovely an hour and a half and several “I’M HUNGRY, WANT FOOD!” texts from the bestie. I refused to do my make up with left hand. There was just no way I was going out in public looking like I had done my make up while driving down a bumpy road.

The remainder of the day went pretty smooth. The big hair turned out pretty adorable but do you know how I know opposite day was a total success? This lady wore her underroos backwards, on accident. And do you know how long it took me to realize that my panties were on backwards? At the end of the day.   

akwaaaaaaaaaaaard.

You Will RUE THE DAY

I know that we shouldn’t have but really there were no other options. Well, there were but if I told you that it would ruin the story. We were starving, neither of us had eaten today and the thought of eating anything that was deep fried and smothered in oil and grease made me want to hurl the nothing contents from my tummy. So, we did it. “Chris” and I placed another order from THEM. (Click here if you haven't heard the first story).

We hadn’t had anything to eat ALL day so our foggy brains weren’t thinking clearly. I even put aside the little dispute from last time all the while thinking, I’ll be nice today, no passive aggressive notes because I just want a damn sammich. The order was placed and little did we know, those assholes were prepping for the war. Instead of us writhing about the floor with hunger pains we instead spent the waiting time sadly looking at each other until my phone went off.

With excitement and a happy pep in my step I got our food and anxiously opened the bags and that’s when I made the discovery of epic proportions. OLIVES! OLIVES EVERY WHERE! Not just one little measly olive hidden under a bed of lettuce but a fucking shit ton of them in my side salad and when I opened the container I swear to you three of them jumped out in a failed attempt to attack me. They used a tiny piece of a bell pepper as a shield and I even heard a tiny “KILL THE WITCH!”

Here's the evidence that I politely declined the offer of olives.



Look at them. Just sitting there like they own the place.

“Chris” opened his box to find that they cut his bread and assembled his sandwich as if it were a hot dog. Also, for some reason the pickles, glob of mayo and 2 olives (he likes them…ick) were all shoved to one side of the sandwich. Mine was just a mess of lettuce and mayo to the point where “Chris” couldn’t tell what sandwich I had got. We then checked the temperature of the chocolate chip cookies and wouldn’t you know, they were god damn cold. Like arctic below freezing cold. Ok, maybe they were actually at slightly below room temperature but they had spoiled us before with soft, warm cookies these may have just been ice cookies.

If you tilt your head to the rght you can see it's face.
 Also, there's a frozen cookie in the corner. You can SEE how frozen it is.

I didn't realize how gross this looked until AFTER I ate it.
What? I was hungry!

                                                                                                                                                                     

I bet you guys are really curious about who we are waging this war against aren’t you? Oh, stop begging I’ll tell you. And if you want you should totally place an order and be a complete dick about it too.

Pizza Time

1705 NW Cache Rd

Lawton, OK 73507

580-248-0008

www.pizzatimeok.com

The war has begun.  

Rachel Berry, My TV Nemesis

About two years ago I was home with a cold and there was nothing on TV. Well, there were infomercials but there are only so many times I can watch Alyssa Milano flip her shiny hair before I whip my debit card out and buy expensive shampoo I don’t need. I perused the list of shows on Netflix and came across Glee. I had never heard of it but it had Jane Lynch in it and that was good enough for me.

When I was done with season 1 I began hunting and digging through the interwebs for a place to watch season 2. By the end of the day I was completely hooked and disappointed that I now had to wait a week like everyone else for new episodes. In case you live under rock, Glee is a show about a high school show choir. Except it’s totally not like the show choir from your high school and the story lines are like what happened when you went to high school but on steroids. However, I like the songs, the jokes are funny and I want to learn the dance routines. Think about it, your hanging out with some new friends and one is all, “Oh, I’m a doctor and I know how to save lives.” And then you dramatically jump on the table, music playing in your head while you exclaim, “I CAN DANCE LIKE THE KIDS FROM GLEE, BITCH!”

There’s only one problem with the show and her name is Rachel Berry. Just to clarify, I have nothing against the actress that plays her. She has an amazing voice, shiny hair and is probably really nice but that Rachel…RACHEL CRY BABY BERRY! She cries in EVERY episode and it’s always because she didn’t get the solo or because Finn won’t break up with Quinn or because someone made fun of her granny sweater. She’s kind of like that yippy little chihuahua that barks and barks and barks until someone pets it. The story line has always been centered around the whole Finchel crap. Will they get together? Will she find out she makes me want to rip out the wings of a butterfly?

About half way through season 3 I figured it’s ok, she’ll graduate soon, go off to the fancy performing art school in NYC and we’ll be done with her. Well, she may have an occasional guest spot but that’ll be ok. Then they announced we would be following her to college. Son. Of. A Bitch. It was then that I decided I was done with Glee. Sure I’d miss the adorable couple that was Kurt and Blaine, crushing on Mike and the crazy shit that came out of Britney’s mouth but following Rachel Ruiner I Cry at Everything Berry was too much. I was done and would never look back.

And then “Chris” started talking about Glee. It started with, “Hey, did you watch Glee last night?” I would go into my rant of how Rachel Berry is the ruiner of everything that is good and right in this world. Then he would casually mention what one of the characters did or Rachel Destroyer of Good Things Berry had a pregnasty scare. Then he sent me a clip from the latest episode where Finn and Shue did a boy band feud dance off. It. Was. AWESOME! In a matter of two days I have completely caught up on the seasons I’ve missed. I may be sucked back into Glee (come on, Kate Hudson being a massive C U Next Tuesday is hilarious!) but Rachel Berry still fuels my hate fire. 

I would LOVE to learn the routine with the ropes...now if only I could dance ...and sing.

It's Not You, It's Me

I’ve been wanting to write this post for a while but kept just kept putting it off. I created this blog as a happy place, a place that I can write goofy stories that I would hope make those that read it smile, forget whatever trouble they’re having, even if it’s just for a few minutes. I haven’t been posting much lately and when I do get something up, I have a hard time trying to get my funny spin on it.

I just wanted to take a few minutes and tell you what’s been going on. A few months ago I became very overwhelmed and withdrawn. I eventually realized there was a problem and made an appointment with a therapist. What I learned in the following weeks was that I have depression caused by issues and guilt I’ve been carrying around with me for a very long time. Even as I was starting to feel better, I still kept the depression and seeing a therapist a secret from my family.

I’m very fortunate for the family that I have. We may not be ideal, I’m a typical child of divorced parents, but I’m so lucky to have the step parents I have in my life. To be frank, they are more than just my step parents, they are my parents. They treat my brother and I as if we are their own and I couldn’t have asked for anyone better for my parents. I’ve been through so much with my family and the last thing I wanted to do was make them feel disappointed or that the reason I could barely get out of bed had something to do with them or the divorce from many, many years ago. To me it was, well I’m a grown adult I should be over all that. So, I chose to keep a secret.

I was starting to feel better, more like myself again, and decided to discontinue therapy. Therapist recommended it, stating it seemed that there was nothing else I needed and I looked and seemed happy. I felt a little relieved, she was a sweet lady and I have plenty of stories about her that maybe, if you’re really nice, I’ll share some of them with you. I’m just going to say, she was a sweet, religious cat lady.

A few weeks ago, it started to happen again, except this time the depression came back with a vengeance and wasn’t letting go. Instead of working on my class assignments I would just lay in bed watching lifetime (or the Jodi Arias trial, which is still going on!). I would just lay, wrapped up in my cocoon of a blanket and just feel so worthless to the world. Any hobby that I loved I couldn’t do. I didn’t deserve to do anything enjoyable because I didn’t do anything to deserve it. I didn’t go out with friends because I felt as if I had nothing to contribute. I was just a sad, pathetic shell of person, eating crappy food and watching even crappier lifetime movies. It seemed like everyone else had some motivation to make it through the day, kids, family, a significant other and I had nothing.

The best way for me to describe this horrible feeling would be that I’m in this deep pit, the walls are constantly growing higher and my life is above me in a swirling whirlwind that I can’t seem to get control of. Unfortunately, I’m still in the pit.  I felt as if going to therapy the last time didn’t work then what is the point now? Do I call up the previous therapist who prayed for me at the end of each session like I was possessed or do I find someone new? If I find someone new, how long of a wait until they can get me in? I’m not about to shove my head in the oven but I’m tired of this numb, worthless, pathetic person I feel I’ve become.

The good news is that I’m back in therapy and with a new therapist who seems like a better fit than my previous one. It also seems that previous therapist may have underestimated the severity of the depression. Also, I told my parents and feel kind of dumb that I didn’t tell them sooner. I was worried of the type of reaction I would get and instead was met with love and support. Depression will make you think stupid things.

Here's a Tip. You Suck.

I know that in the beginning of the year I proclaimed how “Chris” and I were going to stop eating fast food and work out and then we were going to be these skinny bitches to make the world jealous. Let’s ignore the fact that we have been ordering fast food at least once a week while we’re at work. Hey! We lasted about a month before we gave each other the “my tummy has the rumblies that only egg rolls can satisfy” looks. We’ve been trying to keep it semi healthy by getting subs from this pizza place in town. Don’t give me that look. Stop. Judging. Me.

A few weeks ago when we placed an order online and since someone (not me) was feeling a little extra hungry and wanted a 12 inch sub as opposed to the regular 8 inch (I know you guys are totally giggling about the whole “Chris” wanted an extra 4 inches. It’s ok dirty birds, so am I). So, we added the extra note and patiently (sort of) waited for the delivery guy to get here. And by patiently I mean the two of us were rolling around on the floor whining about how hungry we were. The glorious phone call from the delivery guy FINALLY arrived and as we opened the bags we realized poor “Chris” had gotten an 8 inch sub, not the 12 inch we requested. A sarcastic plan was devised for the next time we placed an order on-line.

I, being forgetful, did not follow through with said plan the next we placed an online order. Instead, I put a note about leaving out the olives in my side salad and placed it. Food arrived and wouldn’t you know those jerks put a crap ton of olives in my damn side salad. I’m pretty sure they read the note and thought, “I bet she doesn’t know today is OPPOSITE DAY! ADD ALL THE OLIVES!”

Tonight, however, I did not forget. In fact, I was very much in favor of getting revenge from the massive olives of last time. “Chris” objected by saying who knows what they’ll do to the food. Did I tell you guys that he was the one who came up with this little plan?? Anyway, I shrugged him off by telling him we’ve done this twice and they haven’t read any of the notes anyway and they probably won’t tonight. So, here’s what the note regarding my side salad said:

“No olives. Please cut my lettuce into triangles. J”

I even added a damn smiley face! I was so sure that they wouldn’t read the note since the previous two times they ignored it. Today, someone was actually doing their job, read it and replied by being just as passive aggressive as I am. We asked for extra BBQ sauce since the soon to be chicken nugget “Chris” loves BBQ sauce with his chicken. There was none. The dressing for my salad was no where to be found. Upon initial inspection of the side salad I was so sure I saw olives in it, however “Chris” pointed out it was just the dark lettuce. Also, the chocolate chip cookies were not warm like they usually are and they didn’t put croutons in the side salad. I know! THE HUMANITY!! Or you know…first world problems. Whatever.  

We accepted that this was karma’s doing so we just ate our food. Half way through my salad I made a discovery of monstrous proportions. A MOTHER FRACKING OLIVE! JUST ONE!

Why must bad things happen to good people?

                                                                         

 I knew they wouldn’t read the note.

Also, the other night I had this FANTASTIC dream that I married Joseph Gordon-Levitt. I was not happy when I woke up the next morning. Anyway, here's our engagement photo.

We're still working on the deets and date.

                                                                         

Confession

I have a confession to make and you may or may not be completely shocked when I tell you this confession. I, Rosie, used to (who am I kidding, I still do) love boy bands, the Backstreet Boys to be more specific. I was also very active in the whole BSB vs. N’SYNC rival. This, of course, was back in the day before the interwebs was popular and message boards were non-existent so if you wanted to insult a bitch for her love of N’SYNC, you did that her face and not behind a keyboard and monitor.  Usually, you made fun of her by drawing horrible faces on the guys of Nsync whenver she brought one of those teen magazines to school. She would always be like, "Oh my gawd guys! It's Justin Timberlake!" And after you had a massive eye roll, you waiting until she wasn't looking, snatched her magazine and defaced the crap out of it. At least that's what I did.

Yeah, such it bitch!

                                                                    

My unwavering love of the Backstreet Boys was so deep that not only did I use my babysitting money to buy posters and cds but I spent weeks saving up to buy a complete Backstreet Boys bed spread. It was AHMAHZING! The comforter had the entire group on it, the pillow cases had their faces on one side and “BACKSTREET BOYS” written on the back. I also may have single handedly kept Tiger and Teen Beat in business. And then N’SYNC rolled around and the battle began. For the record, no one cared about LFO or 98 Degrees, they were like the red headed step children of boybands.

BSB FOR LIFE, SUCKAS.

                                                                    

Each group had the same member;

Sweet, wholesome guy- Nick (BSB) and JC (NSYNC)

Goofy, class clown- Brian (BSB) and Chris (NSYNC)

Bad Boy- AJ (BSB) and Justin (NSYNC)

The just barely made the age limit but still a little too old for the group- Kevin (BSB) and Joey (NSYNC)

That guy whose name no one remembers- That one guy (BSB) and That other fella (NSYNC)

The songs were pretty much the same (expect BSB was better) and the videos featured at least one or all members without their shirts on (sometimes it was raining and we all swooned and drooled a little). Then, since all good things must come to an end, at least one member leaves the group and the remaining members try to go forward. It’s just not the same, the fan girls miss the bad boy that’s in rehab so the group disbands. One or two go to rehab, one has a successful solo career, the one who no one can remember their name just disappears into the night, and one comes out of the closet.

I miss my childhood.

Also, anyone remember the MTV made boy band 2gether that was suppose to be a spoof of boy bands and ended up actually becoming one? I love them as well.

Now I can't stop singing "Say it, Don't Spray It." I will be downloading these to  my ipod when I get home...DON'T JUDGE ME!

Also, guys don't forget you can totally follow the blog on facebook!!! GAH! I know, you're super excited! So, just go ahead and click this link!

Slut Night at Chilis

First of all, I need to advise you jerks wonderful friends that this post is not for the faint of heart. If you're easily offended by sexual stuff well, you may want to not read this one. Or read it, but you may want to have your pearls nearby so you can clutch them while muttering, "Oh my stars... tsk tsk tsk."

Second, I'm trying to avoid the whole leaving you guys hanging without a good story so "Sean" is guest posting. Be nice guys, he's a sensitive boy. (To which he replied, I'M NOT SENSITIVE!)

Third, if you would like to guest post about whatever your tiny heart desires all you have to do is shoot me an email. Let's face it, sometimes I'm lazy and you guys have some hilarious material.

Without futher adieu, "Sean" and his story, Slut Night at Chilis. *golf clap golf clap*

Hey Guys, “Sean” here. I’ll be your guest poster for today. I have a story I simply must share with the world.

Over the weekend myself, my girlfriend, and one of our couple friends headed to Chili’s for dinner and drinks before heading out to a movie. We got seated and started off dinner like any other visit to this “fine family” establishment. We were about to place our orders when they were seated. A group of 4 ladies age ranges from 25-35 with various levels of attractiveness, were seated at the table right next to ours. It seemed like it would be a normal dinner and boy were we mistaken. Have you ever heard of  a “woo girl”?  No, well, here is the Urban Dictionary definition:

Woo-Girl

 A female who is often found going 'WOOOOOO!' in public. this behaviour is most often exhibited while in the presence of other woo-girls. it is speculated that this is a mating call used to attract men of less than average intelligence. this behaviour can most easily be observed in bar districts, at maroon 5 concerts, or spring break destinations. also, woo-girls are known to have an affinity for chads.

Woo girl in her natural habitat

                                                            

It didn’t take much for them to WOOO!!!. One expressed her desire for a new hair style. WOOOOOOO!!! One showed off a new manicure she got earlier in the day. WOOOOO!!!! That, as annoying as it seemed, was not the most awkward part of the evening. Everyone needs a night out every so often to have some fun, gossip and recharge their batteries. These ladies, did not. They must have timed this perfectly because as our food arrived they began to talk in LOUD detail about their sex lives. “Red” (well, obviously she has red hair) started share time by telling the group her absolute love of anal sex. She also announced to the group that she also enjoys being tied up, smacked around, and being dominated. Once again, we were in a public restaurant, with other people around.

I guess “Red” got the ball rolling on sex confessions because then “Bambi” announced to the slut group about how she had gone to a local bar and seduced two men. She then explained in great detail how the two men ravaged her at the same time when they got to her apartment. Next up for confession time was “Trixie.” She had just gotten out of a relationship and told the group about how her and her ex were really into swapping couples, group sex and occasionally recording it.

Before the next confessor came up, my group and I had realized that we had completely forgotten about the movie we were planning to see after dinner. Who needs to pay $10 for a movie when you can get dinner and a show at Chilis? So, we opted to stay and see just how this would play out. Not a bad decision judging on “Candis” confession. She told stories to the group about her love and desire for whips, ropes and chains. She even told her friend that she would loooooooove to get with a furry because, as she put it, “Plush animals make me wetter than Niagra Falls.” To which, I had to hold back from losing my dinner all over the table.

Awkward....

Of course my friends and I weren’t just sitting at the table like a bunch of perverts listening in on this conversation. Oh, no. Instead, we were texting each other back and forth, debating which one of these really sexually active ladies was Queen of the Sluts. We even tried to make a drinking game out of it but we couldn’t get the logistics of it worked out. To be honest, we weren’t the only ones listening, they were THAT LOUD. At least we were seated in the bar area so no children were subjected to this really adult conversation and no parents had to go home and explain the story about the dirty birds and kinky bees.

They were still competing for the Queen of the Sluts title when they started comparing lovers, past experiences and measuring dick size. Unfortunately, the queen was never crowned because shortly there after the ladies began to cry pathetically as they realized the sex toy covered path their lives had gone.

The town that I live in is fairly conservative. People down here are not necessarily deeply religious but they do have their faith but when I heard their stories, I was like WHOA! I’m surprised no one died in the telling of this stories as there were several older couples sitting at tables nearby. Lesson here, keep it in your pants and be mindful of your surroundings.

Satisfaction

Sometimes, “Chris” and I like to grocery shop together at Wal Mart when we get off work. It’s not very often but it seems the few times we go something out of the ordinary tends to happen. Nothing overly dramatic, just little random little things, like a few weeks ago, every time I touched something I kept getting shocked. Not the little, oh ha ha I got shocked. I mean like I would reach to pick up some hair conditioner and be shocked so hard my elbow would hurt. Or “Chris” would touch the shopping cart and I got shocked. Or I would reach for a bag of straws and get shocked. Wal Mart is, apparently, a shocking place for me. Ha ha, get it, guys. Come on, laugh, that was totally funny.

I’ve also noticed lately that the customer service at one of the Wal Marts in town has been a little more friendly than usual and I’m not sure how I like that. I’ve become so accustomed to the angry and disgruntled employees that when one of them smiles at me I feel like they’re trying to distract me while they snatch my wallet. Last time I went alone one of the stockers actually smiled at me and asked if I needed anything and another stocker a few aisles over complimented the boots I was wearing. What? They’re cute boots! A little crappily made since I only bought them about 4 weeks ago, one heel makes a squeak/fart noise when I walk and the tiny elastic bands in the fabric on the back are already bursting out. But they’re still cute!

So, back to the story. “Chris” and I were perusing the baking aisles, ok we were “Ohhh” and “ahhh” ing those little microwave brownie bowl things and resisting the urge to just toss them all in the shopping cart when we heard someone yelling “Hey!” behind us. I turned to look and saw one of the store employees running towards us, still shouting “Hey!” so I assumed something fell out of my purse and started scanning the ground for any of my crap that may have attempted to make a break for it. I swear, my purse is like Mary Poppins bag, one day I’ll amaze everyone by pulling out a lamp shade and area rug. So, this little employee stops in front of us and then asks the following questions:

“Hey, are you guys finding everything alright? Is there anything I can get for you? Are you enjoying your trip to Wal Mart?”

That last question is what confused the hell out of me. My head slowly tilted to the side, confusion all across my face as I quietly asked, “This is Wal Mart?” Not completely sure why I felt I had to ask where we were, it just felt appropriate. I was still comprehending what was happening when I glaced at “Chris” and saw this his face was not of confusion like mine but instead severe irritation. Which would explain why the super helpful employee looked slightly scared, muttered “Well, if you need anything come find me!” and quickly turned the corner and vanished.

I’m pretty sure “Chris” and I stared at each other for a good 3 minutes before one of asked if that really happened. We never saw the employee again that night.

Also, "Chris" totally called me a dick because my two bags used up all the cart space and he had to put his bags in the foldie child seat. Not sure why I'm the dick when all he had to do was put his bags in the cart...

All he had to do was move the bags...

On a completely unrelated note, GUESS WHAT!!! Cupcakes and Nerf Guns has a facebook page!!! Fan Girl scream time!!!

                                                                

OK, ok enough of that. Go over to the super awesome facebook page and show some love. Then take that love and spread it with your friends. Don’t ew me, I know you want to.