Beardgasm

Apparently there's a beard fad going on (with dudes) lately. I hate to be a D, but I can't help but stare and wonder how many snacks I could fit in one if I was so lucky.

Exhibit A - To Wong Phill, With Love

This is Phill, and his scarf "Fabulous."

 

Exhibit B - Mitchsterroboto

I call this one "Giggle Beard"

He's smiling because of his beard - I'm smiling because I'm imagining putting black cats in it.

Look at the length on this smiley hobo. What a precious angel.

Exhibit C - Coming after I find more cool ones tonight. Happy New Year's, and may the beard be with you.

Alternative Olympics

Remember when Americans spent hours watching people perform athletic tasks in spandex? That’s right my friends, I’m talking about my holiday dance parties. And the Olympics. In honor of that exciting moment in history, I’ve created a list of categories I’d rather watch than actual athletics.

1. Texting and driving. Sure, it’s frowned upon and illegal in some states but dang, I’d love to watch this on a closed course. I’m talking old school Nokia, no predictable text, no touch screen, and any spelling or grammatical error gets you automatically disqualified.

2. Luxurious Hair Competition. We all know Katt Williams would take gold, but who do you think would get silver and bronze?

3. Carrying Groceries to Your Third Story Apartment. I just put this on here because I know I would win.

4. Power Hour With Red, Red Wine. If anyone (Mitchsterroboto) takes on this challenge, please record a video and post below. Seriously.

5. Best Pranks of All Time. I’m feeling a Jackass-type competition with more Speedos. Or less Speedos.

6. Beer float eating contest. First one to throw up loses. Ready, set, go!

7. Naked Twister.  I’m referring to the actual game Twister, not what you did after your quinceanera.

8. Team Slip-n-Slide.  Each team would be required to bring tarps, baby oil, and a drunk uncle.

9. Dancing With the Stars, Amputee Version. Yes I really just said that.

10. Reader’s Choice – what would you like to see?

P.S. Happy Holidays. If you see black Santa, tell him I’m still waiting on that beeper.

When did Prince Harry Get Hot?

How can you know for SURE that your hormone levels are out of balance? All the websites say things like mood wings, sweating, rapid weight loss/gain, extreme bitchiness. But you know how I know when my hormones are jacked? All of the sudden, Prince Harry is smokin' hot.


Until now, I hadn't paid much attention except to the fact that he looks like David Letterman.

Harry, if you're reading this (and I'm sure you are) I'm sorry I had to break it to you this way.

Wait - what?!

P.S. to those whom this was not already announced - I went running today. Rather, I tried to walk the dog and the sprinklers went off so I started running. Realistically the scene looked like a surprise choreographed seizure in a camo shirt that says "It takes no talent to hustle" on the back but in my mind, I felt like a wild stallion. I was gracefully gallavanting (similar to the Elaine dance) through the wilderness (a cement trail in the suburbs) with long, flowing locks that were accented by nothing but sunshine and Jesus. (this part is actually true, plus some ombre color that my stylist did. See www.triciahair.com for details)

After I got away from the sprinklers I kept running, on purpose. Then I got tired so I just pretended like I stole something in order to keep up the original pace.

Moral of the Story - It actually does take talent to hustle.

Confessions From a Corner Booth

I wasn’t that close to my dad as a kid, but now that we’re grown things have gotten more enjoyable. Recently we had a relatively deep heart to heart over – you guessed it – an A1 Thick & Hearty Burger.

The conversation started when I went to visit him on an overnight shift. (hence the swanky dining choice) I ordered grilled chicken, he made a quip about being healthy at Whataburger and we both smirked at the cashier. (in my mind the cashier’s name is LaDonte and his firstborn child is named Velveeta Louise.)

Anyway we were eating and I was busy wondering WTF kind of place serves 40 ounce milk shakes when he non-chalantly asked “so why are you still single?” For a minute I was caught off guard because 1. That's been creepy every other time it came from a 50 year old man in the middle of the night and 2. He’s never, EVER asked anything like that before. (as some of you know, my mom is the one who’s been pushing for grandbabies since I was in utero.)

I tried to buy some time by slow-motion chewing the fry that I had so gracefully inserted into my mouth (and it was one of the fries that’s too crispy, so it made that weird cracking noise) and He continued with “you’re so funny, and beautiful. And smart…”

I stared at him with the “where the hell was this speech when I needed it in the 5^th grade after mom let me get a mullet” face. Then I admitted that I don’t know why I’m still single, just that I am and on most days that’s the easiest thing to be. So we were right in this middle of a CTJ (come to Jesus) and having a kind of deep conversation and then my jaw dropped when he said...

 

Dad: I think you can be really intimidating to men.

Me: *completely flabbergasted* ME? …. Intimidating?!.....

Dad: Yes.

Me: Maybe men shouldn’t be such pussies.

Dad: This is exactly what I’m talking about.

 

I thought men were into girls with assault rifles...?

 

Intimidating? If this baby was Chinese, I'd be a world rights activist.

What? But I need this gun to protect the baby!

Moral of the story – No matter how old you get, you still regret using profanity in front of your parents.

Black Santa

Oh hey, and happy holidays to you and yours! I made you this blog. You're welcome.

 
 
      So let me ax you this question - who said Santa was white? I understand that some people may think it's less offensive for an old white dude to sneak into your house in the middle of the night but personally, I think he'd be more fun if he was a little more ethnic. You know, like a black pimp Santa. In fact, I found him. He's shorter than me which is odd, but I'm sure he's still really good at basketball.

Gold gloves - check. Courvoisier - check. Big booty white chick - check.

When I saw him, my mind went on a magical journey of Christmas Eve with black Santa...

     First, I would take him home to my grandparents' house and introduce him as my "new friend Tyrone." My grandmother would be shaken that he's not a white preacher in khakis but my dad would just be relieved that I'm not a lesbian. (27 and unmarried is rare in my family).
      After relentless stares and a good meal consisting of ham, the usual sides, and the fried chicken that Tyrone brought, I would sit on his lap and whisper to him what I want for Christmas. (an escalade, of course.) I would continue to sit on his lap until my great grandmother said something that got her escorted to the guest bedroom "for a rest," then Tyrone and I would sneak out the backdoor to go smoke menthol cigarettes.
     After all, he would have to get on his sleigh in a few minutes and deliver toys all over the world. (Toys made by miniature people who work all year like little... well this is awkward.)

     I imagine that black Santa would give out better toys than white Santa too. Who wants Lincoln Logs when you can have boot-legged DVDs and Mr. Goodbars? But let's remember that the holiday season isn't about what you get, but about what you give, which is why I am leaving out the items below for his overnight journey.

Who wants cookies when you can have this?

After my fantasy of black Santa was over (is it ever really over?) I looked up a few other minority Santas. Sheck 'em out. 

Indian Santa - Free slurpees for everyone!

Drunk Santa - or the regular Santa on December 26th

Didn't see this one coming? Of course you didn't. He's Asian.

Sexy Lady Santa

Nice Mexican Santa

Realistic Mexican Santa (Shout out to Consuela)



Gay Santa "And I want a [ony and some more reeds for this sexy ass saxophone..."

Moral of the story - Hug a tree. It's Christmas.
 

 

Happy Holidays Everybody!

Google Yourself

      You know how it goes - you're sitting at home (or your apartment complex's business center because you can't be inconvenienced by waiting on someone to install your internet <real busy>) and you think "I wonder how well-known I am in every corner of the world." So you do it.

And then you google yourself.

I searched for "real busy blog spot" and  this is what showed up.

To my friends who just googled the dirty website, shame on you.
And let me know if they're any good.

I'm sad to report these websites sound much more exciting than mine. But you know what? They don't have the party boob.

Below is a snapshot of which countries are viewing the blog.

 

 

US, Canada, Germany...that make sense. Kazakhstan and Belarus?! For a minute I felt like a bad ass, then I realized they were probably just looking for Busty Aunty's Hot BJ. Womp womp.

Inquiring minds wanna know - what comes up when you google yourself?

Every Crotch Should Smell Like This

Wait a second - you're saying my ladybits are going to smell like morning paradise? ...Paradise in the morning?! Is this where dreams come from? Steadman, bring me my unicorn.

You write the caption. Oh go on, live a little.

Rest assured that I will be wearing party boots and doing the captain pose for the remainder of the day.

Happy 12/12/12, ladies and gentlemen.