At Least I'll Be Warm When The Apocalypse Comes

The world must be coming to an end. That's the only explanation. Because last night? I bought a Snuggie.

In my own defense, it was for my Mom, not me. But still. I always laugh at those infomercials and says things like "the day I buy a snuggie is the day someone needs to punch me in the face."

Well punch away, baby. Because I had a coupon (probably because it's 105 degrees here today) and there they were, a huge stack of Snuggie boxes just daring me to buy one of them. Those Snuggies were all "Oh we see you, little missy...sneaking glances at us while you pretend to be interested in the knock-off perfumes" and I was all "I have no idea what you are talking about" and the Snuggies were all "You know you want to buy one of us...we're all warm and toasty" and I was all "No way! I'm way too awesome and sexy to buy you!" and the Snuggies were all "But you have elderly parents that would benefit so much from us...don't be selfish" and I was all "Well, that is true..." and the Snuggies were all "With your coupon, we'll only be $10" and I was all "Yeah I guess so..." and the Snuggies were all "You can't afford not to buy one of usssssss" and I was all "Ummmm, okay...maybe I'll just take a quick look" and the Snuggies were all "Yesssssssss, come closer to the Snuggie display..." and the next thing I know, I'm at the checkout with a motherfucking Snuggie box in my hand.

Here's the really sad part. I decided to try it on before I sent it to my Mom. I tried it on and guess what? Warm and toasty and comfy.

It was awesome. I loved it.

I decided to keep it.

Damn you, Snuggie empire! Damn you for turning me into one of those people that I make fun of. And no! I will so not use your fucking book light! I don't care that it came free with purchase! You can shove your book light up your ass, Snuggie empire!

Okay fine. I used the fucking book light. I was reading in bed last night and didn't want to disturb Captain Carl who was sleeping, so I broke down and clipped it to my book and turned off the overhead light because I'm such a good wife. Quit judging, you don't know me! I'm still just as cool as I was pre-Snuggie with free book light.

p.s. Does anyone know how much the clapper is?

p.p.s. What? It's for my mom. Shut up!

Miss Yvonne Action Figure - Now With Saggy Boobs

So I found my namesake's doll online today. She looks a little crazy, no? She is also no longer in mint condition and comes in vintage retro packaging. Coincidentally, all of those things describe me perfectly. Crazy? Check. Non-Mint condition? Check. Retro packaging? Check aaannnd check. Except my own retro packaging is less cardboard box and more saggy boobs and left foot bunion. Hottttt!

Remember when I was whining about not having any good underwear? Here's where I'm going to whine about not having any good bras. I know, you're so lucky to be reading this right now. It's okay, take a deep breath and calm the fuck down.

Being a *ahem* pleasantly pump girl, I require some heavy duty support. I can't just tra la la skip down to Victoria's Secret and snatch (I said snatch) up a little underwire number. No sir.

Case in point.

Hi, have you met my boobs?

My largely lady lumps require what the female undergarment industry refers to as "extended sizes" or what I refer to as "big titty bras".

Seriously, they refuse to stay in my clothes.

But I want cute, y'all. I refuse to wear the same bra my mother wears.

70 years old and she hasn't tried a different style bra since she was 30.

Yeah. No.

I'm thinking something more like this.

Look! She has a tassel. Sexy and classy.

I want to dance into a room like this after I put it on.




And then I'm going to buy a white chiffon dress and style my hair in a bouffant and probably adopt a puppy small enough to prop in my cleavage and I'll walk around town and people will be all "That lady has a dog between her boobs, but who cares...her tits look amazing!".

What? I don't know. I'm tired. And saggy. This is the best I can do today. Also, your mom's a slut.

I'm Swagging The Crap Out Of This Party!

My friend Worky invited the Captain and me to his birthday party this weekend. Worky is gay and is all kinds of fabulous and I heart him to death because I've always wanted a gay boyfriend and even though we aren't all that tight, I decided that he was as close I was getting to one since Kurt ignored me when I asked him to be mine. Whatever Kurt,I'm totally karate chopping you in my mind.

Anyway, so Worky sent me an email last week asking me to come to his birthday party that he's throwing for himself, which is kind of weird and self-centered but that's okay because I let the gays get away with more social faux pas than everyone else on account of all the gay-marriage-is-illegal stuff...I figure they could use the break and I'm pretty much all about helping out people who are discriminated against who can also give me bitchin' fashion advice.

So I told the Captain about the party last weekend and he said sure, why not, so I emailed Worky back and said yes. And then the invitation came in the mail.

Holy Rupert Everett, that invitation was so gay it practical yelled "bitch please!" when I opened it. It's got a black border with pretty silver swirly thingies on it and the middle is white with a silver border. Well color me fancy, Reba! And it says "You are invited to attend the star studded event of Worky's Birthday" and then proceeds to tell the when and where and all that business. And then it says "Theme for the party is 'Paparazzi' so dress to impress. Guests are encouraged to wear black, turquoise or silver." It also mentions that there will be a turquoise carpet for photo ops upon arrival. Included in the envelope are two VIP passes that say we should bring them to the party"for a chance to win swag". Holy shit, people! Swag!

So now I'm all excited and jumpy and clappy when I showed it to Captain Carl because hello! this party sounds so fun and girly! The Captain reads the invitation, looks up at me with one eyebrow cocked and says "Oh hell no". I ignore his comment and start talking about what I'm going to wear and what I can find in his closet for him to wear and that's when the Captain grabbed my arm and said "I am not wearing anything turquoise". Party pooper. So I tell him "That's okay, you can just wear one of your plaid shirts and you go can as a Bear. I'm sure all of Worky's friends will love you."

Yeah, he didn't like that idea either. But he said he'll still go with me since he's a good guy and he remembers how Worky drove all the way out to the sticks to our house for our Christmas party last year. Hurrah! I'm totally making him listen to Mariah Carey on the drive over to help us get in the mood.

I found a sweater in my closet that is black and silver and I'm trying to convince the Captain to wear it to the party but he keeps saying "that's your sweater, I can't wear that" and I keep telling him "trust me, you'll fit right in" and then he looks at me all worried and then I laugh and then he gives me the finger and then I say "You kiss your mother with that mouth?" and then he says "That doesn't even make sense" and then I say"Your mom doesn't even make sense! Boo-ya!"

I'm pretty much a genius at comebacks.

Can I Just Say?

WTF Brad Pitt?

Seriously Brad? Seriously with the moustache?

I remember you when you looked like this....

Now THAT is a moustache.

That is a Legends-of-the-Fall-I-wanna-hump-you-Tristan moustache right there.

You're this close to being the next Goulet. Except less cool.

Maybe you're just trying to emulate your buddy?

Yeah, that's not so good either.

If you've got to copy him, maybe this look instead?

Oooh yeah, that's a million times better...

Or how about this?




Mama like.


Ahem...anyway....


You know Brad, I am a photographer. How's about you shave off that little guy, put on your swim trunks and meet me at the lake for a photoshoot?





George sure enjoyed it, I'm sure you would too.

Wide Width My Ass

I have fat girl feet. There are only a few select retailers that sell good wide width shoes. I'm talking about sexy heels...just cause I'm fat doesn't mean I want to wear fugly shoes.


So I thought I found some great pumps recently. Open toe, fabulous black and white check fabric, 2 inch heels. Yummy. And bonus, they are wide width! Awesome, my chubby little tootsie will look tasty and will feel comfy too!


Wrong. Two hours into my work day today and I had lost all feeling in my toes, which had squooshed together so hard that they were leaving impressions of themselves in each other. Four hours into my work day and my feet felt like giant sausages stuffed into lipstick tubes. Luckily, I keep a pair of emergency flip flops under my desk in case a situation such as this arises. Arose? Arises? Blech.


But because I'm a such an attention whore, I put those torture devices back on my swollen feet after lunch....all because one lady told me this morning she loved my shoes when I walked into the building.


And I could have worn my comfy flip flops out to my car at the end of the day, but I didn't. I wore those fucking nazi shoes all the way out to the parking garage and drove home wearing them. I'm a glutton for punishment.


Now I want to buy THESE. $50???? Seemed outrageous when I first saw them...but tonight I would pay triple that....my poor toes!