Sunday, July 20, 2008

The West is the Best

Wow, I'm posting a lot lately, which is very unlike me. Usually I'm much too lazy. What's up with that?

I guess because I'm actually out doing things. Yesterday I flew from NAshville to Ontario, California, so I could take a little vacation in Riverside (where I am from) and San Diego where my brother lives.

Ah, to breath the smogalicious air of Riverside! How I've missed it! It's so good to be back in the glorious Inland Empire. I've been taking a lot of pictures which I will share as soon I can manage to download them onto my laptop. None of them have been topless so far, but you never know.

Wednesday, July 16, 2008

Photo Post

How much do I love my digital camera? All the fun of photography without the expense of getting the pictures developed. Who invented it anyway? I want to have sex with them.

It's hard to remember to take it with me whenever I venture out, but sometimes I go on photo rampages inside the house. Here's a couple of the latest.




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Lil Jackie Waffles crashed out. He plays hard and sleeps harder. He's like a ragdoll when he's asleep and it's so damn cute.





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Every gargoyle needs a blond hoochie wig to vogue in. The little one on the left is jealous. Don't fret man, you get to wear it next month!






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Shirley did not want to wear Playboy bunny ears. She found it very degrading as she is a feminist.






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I added pop eyes to this picture of The Pope that hangs in my bathroom. Why, you ask? I don't know, just felt like it.







WARNING: This next pic could be considered NSFWish I suppose. You can see a little bit of nipple. So do not scroll down if you don't like tits. Or if you are offended by messy bathrooms.
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I call this self portrait Topless at 5:30 AM in the World's Messiest Bathroom. I considered cropping the toilet out, but on second thought I like it better in.

Unflattering Pics of Celebs

I stole this idea from D. Prince. She had a post entitled Celebrities Without Makeup MAke Me HAppy and I thought, "Me too!"

I sort of hate celebs and like to make fun of them. Mostly because I'm super jealous of their insane riches. F them bastards!

Enjoy!





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A barefaced Kate Moss is proof that photoshop and makeup are all anyone needs to be a supermodel. Dizzam!




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I just love pics of Tom Cruise looking completely off his rocker. There are so many. I sort of have a collection going.



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This picture of Fergie with pee stains never gets old. Squirt, squirt!


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There are too many hideous pics of Britney Spears to choose from. But I like this one of her picking her ass.

Once when I was a kid I was playing over at a friends house and I did this. My friend's dad said, "Pru, are you planning on going to the movies?"

"No," I answered puzzled.

"Because you sure are already picking out your seat!" he cried slapping his knee, and the whole family laughed their asses off, including the senile granny, two year old brother, and the dog. I laughed too (I had no choice!) but I didn't really understand the joke till a few days later. Hey, I was a slow child!



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Probably the worst pic of Maddona ever. I'm fond of it. Look at those scary chompers! She resembles a demented Bugs Bunny.




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Paris Hilton doing what she does best. Sucking.




**UPDATE: For Mister Underhill and Fashion Herald. Here is a little pizza faced Cameron Diaz for you.

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Tuesday, July 15, 2008

Check This Out

I was shopping at my local Publix the other day when I noticed this tee shirt.


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Very nice sentiment, right? Patriotic.

Well, after seeing that I just had to check the label.


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What a shocker. Of course it was made in Nicaragua. I was only surprised that it wasn't made in China.

At first I thought this was funny in an ironic way, but now I just think it's sad.

Monday, July 14, 2008

My New Kitteh, Let Me Show U Him

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I haven't thought of any good names yet. I've just been calling him Kitteh Buddy. Got any suggestions?

Monday, July 07, 2008

Fork you, Target!

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Meet my new lawn gnome, Fork.

I named him Fork because he looks kinda emo to me with that black eyeliner, and emo types seem to love having sad sack anti-names. I got him by accident on my last trip to Target.

When I say by accident, that's what I mean. I didn't go to Target specifically to buy a yard gnome; I meant to only buy dogfood and that's it. Instead I walked out with a cart full of crap, including Fork here. I don't know what happened but (as usual) I have a theory.

You see whenever I walk in to Target, like most people, I grab a cart thinking that I'll need it for the heavy bag of dog food. But as soon as my hand actually touched the cart I entered a fugue state - possibly complete with drool dripping down my chin - and didn't resume conciousness until I was standing in the checkout line digging for my credit card to pay for the huge amount of stuff I had somehow accumulated.
This is what I bought besides Fork the Gnome:

dog food
cat food
gigantic package of toilet paper
mascara
shampoo
conditioner
hair gel
a monkey cookie jar
socks
2 shirts
a book
lip gloss
a necklace
2 CDs
3 DVDs
a shower curtain
a bikini
paper towels
a package of chocolate covered pistachios


I absolutely do not remember putting any of it in my cart!

See my theory is the red and white bullseye logo they have actually hypnotises you as you approach the store. Then, as soon as you walk through the door, they play that super soft music that whispers commands of "buy, buy, buy" as you meander up and down the aisles.

One time when I was at Target I heard a lady remark to her friend, "I just love this store. It's so well lit."

"Yes," her companion answered, "and the aisles are so roomy."

Tell me, is that a conversation a person would have if their brain were fully active and concious?

Oddly this never happens to me at Walmart. Walmart sucks ass.

Tuesday, July 01, 2008

Things That Make You Go Hmmmmm

My mom has been complaining for the last few days of a terrible smell in her room. She keeps making me sniff various areas of the room and saying stuff like, "See, right there! Can't you smell it? Something is dead in here, I swear!"

Truthfully I can't smell anything at all, but she was bugging me so much I finally agreed that something stunk so she'd leave me alone. That didn't work, though, as she then started firing questions at me.

Mom: What does it smell like to you?

Me: I don't know. Ass?

Mom: I think something must have died in here but I've looked everywhere and I can't find anything. It's driving me crazy! Do you think that's it, or does it smell more like mold?

Me: No, you're right, this room reeks of the grave.

Mom: (Nostrils flaring like a beagle on the hunt) Maybe it's coming through the air conditioning vent from the attic. Go up there and see if you see anything dead.

So, I had to pull the ladder out and climb up into the tiny, spider infested attic and crawl around with a flashlight looking for dead rats or zombies or whatever the heck else my mom could think of. I didn't see any dead rodents and I was about to climb back down when I noticed an opening in the wall towards the very back. I crept a little closer and shined the flashlight on it so I could check it out.

I'd never had any reason to enter the attic before. The real estate agent certainly didn't bring me up there before I bought the place, and it never occured to me to take a look.

Squinting through the dust, I finally located a lightswitch and turned it on. Holy cow, I wish I hadn't!

The opening was much bigger than I'd initially thought, about the size of a largish television, and circled with red paint. An eerie crimson glow seemed to emanate from the center. As I approached it, a terrible stench filled my nostrils and flies began buzzing around my head. I pulled the neck of my tee shirt up over my nose and kept going.

The opening radiated a terrible heat and what sounded like screams. I stopped right in front of it, unsure of what to do next. Then from somewhere inside the hole I heard a deep, rumbling voice bellow these words,


"get out!"



Well, I didn't have to be told twice! I scrambled out of the attic and slammed the door shut, nearly falling off the ladder in my haste to get the fuck away.

"Did you find a dead rat?" My mom asked hopefully.

"No," I said, "but it appears we have a portal to Hell in the attic."

"But no dead animals? What about a bird? A bird might have gotten up there somehow."

"Mom," I said. "Didn't you hear me? There is an opening to Hades right here in our house. This is like, some Amityville Horror type shit!"

"Oh brother," she said, rolling her eyes. "Well, since you didn't see anything I'm going to call an air conditioning company and have them come flush out the vents." Then she walked off. She never takes me seriously.

I had often wondered what was going on with this place. Now all that weird, unexplainable stuff - the fruit flies we can never seem to get rid of entirely, the green slime that oozes from the refrigerator, that time I saw the dog levitating - it all makes perfect sense. I'm not a lousy housekeeper who occasionally smokes to much pot and hallucinates things, my home is just possessed by demons!

It's good to know, but I'm not planning on moving or anything like that, any time soon. Not with the sweet interest rate I've got locked in on this mortgage.

In other news, I'm still lice free and my head no longer itches.