Happy Birthday
to the sexiest man alive.

(besides Joe, of course)


My only question is, he's bloody gorgeous, so why isn't he smiling more?

“Black studies celebrate blackness, Chicano studies celebrate Chicanos, women’s studies celebrate women, and white studies attack white people as evil.” Article.

It's because all white people are "The Man," holding the brothers down.
Even I, as a white woman, am probably "The Man."

Also, a new movie has earned the #1 spot on my "Worst Movie Ever" list. National Security. I actually watched the whole thing, because I didn't want to be rude, and leave during the middle. Usually even if I don't like a movie I don't want to get up and leave without seeing the end. But I hate Martin Lawrence so much (I did before, anyway) and it was just such an awful movie. DON'T watch it, unless you want to insult your brain.

Here's the review, straight from IMDb: "Well, that's what I expected, another horrific Martin Lawrence vehicle wherein he places his nominal acting skills on display. However, this movie is a "buddy movie", despite the fact that Steve Zahn got absolutely no publicity whatsoever. Not only could the content of this film be construed as racist in nature by white viewers [ed. note: True dat, mah niggas!], as Lawrence's character's actions attest, but the white co-star of the movie is completely ignored in the film's marketing campaign. How funny is that! The only redeeming quality of this film is that, ironically enough, it's Zahn that saves this movie from being an absolute bomb."

Doggamn you Hollywood!

"Teeny tiny Renee Zellweger has the daunting task of chubbing up so she can once again portray big-boned London icon Bridget Jones. The goal? To go from a slender size six to a frumpy size 14 before shooting can even begin."

People who think size 14 is frumpy can go to hell, because I ain't frumpy.

I hate it when Blogger is being dumb, but hey, I guess I get what I pay for.

Pee.Ess. I just wanted to say a hearty "Eff you" to the weather channel. Their forecast for this coming Saturday went from "82 and mostly sunny" to "74 and mostly cloudy" to "67 and showers." WHORES! METEOROLOGISTS ARE ALL WHORES!

Sick. I did not wash my hands well enough, and they still smell like chicken wings. Doh!

Bart: Dad, remember when Tom had you in that headlock and you screamed "I'm a hemophiliac'' and when he let you go, you kicked him in the back?
Homer: Heh heh heh. Yeah.
Bart: Could you teach me how to do that?

Deep Thoughts by Jack Handey
#76: If the Vikings were around today, they would probably be amazed at how much glow-in-the-dark stuff we have, and how we take so much of it for granted.

Why the frick do meteorologists even bother posting an extended forecast? It's NEVER right. When I checked the weather channel at 11 o'clock last night, it said Saturday was going to be mostly sunny and 82. Now it says it's going to be 74 and mostly cloudy. What the bloody 'ell.

I have ten days to decide whether or not I really, really, REALLY want that papasan chair I've been hankering for. It's on sale for ten more days at Pier 1, and I want it, but I don't know if I should spend $100 on a chair. I have sat in the chair, and it was the most wonderful chair my bottom has ever graced, but $100 is a lot of money. But I want the chair.

I would get either the blue cushion shown or I would get the multi-color patch one. And I thought about buying the footstool, but that's another $44, and that's just crazy. I don't need a footstool that bad. Anyway, this chair is so cool, and I just know that it wants to come live at my house. Well, actually it would have to live at Joe's sister's apartment for the rest of the summer, but I'm sure it would like living there too.

I feel like making a pumpkin pie. Of course I'm not actually going to do it, seeing as I've never made a pumpkin pie and have no idea how. Sometimes I get in a baking mood. It's weird.

You're the perfect girlfriend. Which means
you're rare or that you cheated. :P You're the
kind of chick that can hang out with your
boyfriend's friends and be silly. You don't care
about presents or about going to fancy places.
You're just happy being around your boyfriend.



What's your sexual appeal?
What Kind of Girlfriend Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

That second one is right on, and hell no, I didn't cheat.

I sure do seem to like sleeping.

CRAP! I thought I was going to be an awesome little homemaker by whipping up some banana bread while my boy's at work. Heh.

Yeah, so instead of checking to make sure I had enough flour before I started, I got almost to the end of the recipe and came up short. So I had to leave the stirred-together goo in the bowl on the counter, drive 5 minutes to the store, find the flour, buy it, and drive back home. When I got back, I couldn't remember for sure if I needed to add one cup or 1/2 cup, so I thought about it for a second, and added a cup. Good times, because as soon as I stirred it in, I looked again at the measuring cup and realized that I had already put in 2 cups, meaning that I should have only added 1/2 cup.

I hope the bread tastes like unspeakable ass and everyone hates me as a result.

Oh man, I have become obsessed with these tard stories:

The school district does not provide snacks to the special services departments. Some tards bring their own snack from home and some don't. Because of this, I ask that parents donate snacks for the tards. The most common things sent in are goldfish crackers, animal crackers, pretzels, etc.

One morning Francis (see entry 12/5a: Francis, for a description of him) comes into the room with two big boxes of Lucky Charms. How nice, I thought, for the huge fat kid to bring in snacks.

Upon further investigation of the Lucky Charms, I discover that both boxes are open. Also, there is not ONE FUCKING MARSHMALLOW in either box. NOT ONE!!!!

Put yourself in my shoes here, What the hell do you do? Ask the fat tard about the marshmallows? Call his mother? I mean, the cereal was donated. I ended up throwing it out. No marshmallows probably means that his little piggy snot covered hands had been in those boxes.

ALSO: this entry which was far too long to copy and paste.

Update, just over 1 hour later: This tard tale leaves me laughing, but speechless. Truly speechless.

Dear Lawd, Tard Blog is hi-f*ckin-larious:

On our field trip this morning, one of the reetees spotted a birds nest in a big bush. The whole gang tweeted. I cleared some branches out so the kids could take a closer look. There was one little egg in the nest. The kids were in awe. Especially when Jamel, my little Sudanese SBD child asks if he can touch the egg. I let him. He picks the egg up out of the basket and crushes it in his hand. At this, some kids are crying, others are wanting to see the inside. Jamel fucking licks the shit out of his fucking hand, then throws the shell on the ground, and smashes it profusely with his feet.

This is only one of many things that has occurred today. I am in my room, waiting for my 11:00 group to show up for math. It is 11:09, I begin to wonder where they are. Then I remind myself that they are retarded, and stop wondering.

Note: I consider myself "allowed" to find this funny, because my own brother has Down's Syndrome and I know exactly what it's like to be in a room full of 'tards.

Go Jim Furyk!

We went to Red Lobster for Father's Day. I saw Leanne (YAY!) but the food I ate is sitting like a rock. A giant, diarrhea causing rock.