Wow, it has been awhile.

Having been invited to this blog atmosphere by my secret friend(I've still got you covered there buddy), I have blogged a total of two times prior to this. Why haven't I been at it more you ask? Because it feels like work. And work my friend, is my enemy unless I'm getting paid to do it. However a strange occurrence has occurred in my life, and I would like to share it with all 10 of you.
My high school bf friend requested me on FB. My nameless, ninja friend has seen photos of him, and I'm sure she is giggling right now at the memories. He is the very first person I ever did the youknowwhat with, the first person I ever said "I love you" to(who wasn't blood related), and the very first person whose life I completely fucked up. Why he requested I be his friend now, I'll never know, and will never ask. I have a feeling it has to do with my breasts, or maybe his forgiving nature, but nonetheless, I added him.
He's married and has been to a cute little lady who I am going to assume is much nicer than I am. I am happy for him. Happy that he was able to hate me with a seething, rotting passion that led him to swear off all crazy bitches until he found his lovely wife.
I'm betting that you are now salivating to know the horrid, horrid things I did to him. Fine, I'll tell you. But I am not responsible for the grimy black mark that will be left on your soul.

1.) I made him give me the $20 he found in a parking lot.
2.) I tricked him into having sex with me at his bosses house, because they were out of town and I thought it would be fun.
3.) I cried when he said he thought Bjork was pretty.
4.) I punched him once because I thought he was being a bully towards someone.
5.) I smoked in his car, even though he didn't smoke.
6.) At a party once, I ditched him for some cute guy who was tripping on acid.
7. I hung out with his best friend WAAAY too much and got the friend high for the first time.
8.) I sulked when he would hang out with anyone but me.
9.) I borrowed money I never paid back.
10.) And the worst thing I did, the worst thing I've ever done to anyone, is I took his virginity, and then I slept with his best friend(the one I got high), and took his virginity also.

So there you have it. I was a sad, crazy, lonely kid who didn't know how to act in an intimate relationship. I hurt him tremendously and have always wanted to tell him how miserable I've felt about it. I won't, because I don't want to bring up the past. But I sure wish he knew how much his kindness has actually meant to me. And that if it weren't for him, I wouldn't know how to completely control my husband with physical harm and verbal beatdowns. :0
Ok, I actually have a pretty great marriage due to me learning how NOT to treat someone you love. So thanks Scott. I really mean that.

I Bet You Feel Bad About Not Buying More Oxyclean.

I woke up at a very reasonable hour this morning(10:30am) and followed my usual routine(pee, wipe the sleep out of my eyes, take a shot of bourbon, log on to the interwebs) to find that Billy Mays has passed away. My first initial reaction was "Vince the ShamWow Guy had something to do with this". I just have a feeling that Vince the ShamWow Guy was looking for a way to redeem himself in the eyes of the consumer after he got his skinny ass kicked by a skanky hooker. I imagine him sitting down to a bowl of Kashi Go Lean Crunch and thinking to himself "Vince the ShamWow Guy, you have really screwed the proverbial pooch here. You've got to do something to make the public forget about your arrest and make your face associated with good things again, like medium sized, brightly colored, highly absorbant towels."
Then I imagine he looks at underage porn, maybe does a little dusting in his studio above his grandmother's garage, possibly makes care packages for soldiers in Iraq, and then all of a sudden it hits him(like the skanky hooker did)! Billy Mays has to go. With Billy Mays gone, Oxyclean will have no choice but to choose him as the new spokesperson for their highly overrated product! Then my imagination gets a little fuzzy here and the details of how he plans on carrying out this brilliant plot aren't that clear. But I'm guessing it has something to do with a hairless ninja cat.
And here we are, 48hrs. later reading about how poor Billy Mays has passed away and will forever be linked to Michael Jackson, Ed McMahon, and Farah Fawcett in the week of celebrity deaths.
Sad times ya'll, sad times.

He totally looks like Benicio Del Torro in The Usual Suspects!

The First Time is Always the Hardest

I was coerced into blogging by a very special friend of mine who shall remain nameless. I think that's because she is a secret superhero. I'm assuming her super power is consuming vast quantities of vodka without tipping over. But I could be wrong. Although I highly doubt it. Shoot, combine her skill with mine in regards to scotch and we're the freaking Super Twins! "Form of... Stumbling Blond In Wobbly Heels!"
But I digress. I've never really blogged before. I have always been convinced that blogging was for people who lacked serious social talent and were smarmy shut ins. Either that or they were so wholly consumed with their own self they couldn't imagine a world without strict interest in every move they make. Having said that, I frequently update my status on Facebook and have a Twitter account. So I guess this was the next natural step for me(thanks nameless friend). I see why she recommended I start my own blog. I can't imagine anybody NOT being interested in the deplorable thoughts that roam through the forest of my tiny little mind.
I suppose this shall be an interesting experiment for me. Can I keep up with the blogging Joneses? Will I be able to maintain my blog in between SuperPoke Pets and updating my status on the aforementioned Facebook? Will anybody find this interesting or will my rambling blogs become fodder for the invisible wizards that live in my computer and read only the unreadable parts of the internet? Will you tell your friends to read this blog because you found this "weirdo" online who is telling everyone about her daily triumphs over the mundane? Will they ever discover a laser that will remove those crazy scars from Seals face? Why do they give you one tiny ketchup packet with your fries at Sonic? Which by the way totally pisses me off. Your fries aren't that great that they don't need ketchup Sonic Drive-In. You are no McDonalds! Throw in, I don't know, like 5 packeages and we'll see. Oh, and an extra mint too please.
You see now the crazy writings that will inevitably spring forth from my fingertips while blogging and you want more don't you? Go ahead and subscribe, I dare you. You see I... gotta' go. Ian just walked in with my cold beer and it's 3:30pm, which means I am behind in my drinking schedule.