Giddy Up

Today I met the reason why my husband is so damned good in bed: Wonder Horse


Can't you just see lil L shaggin' riding the hell out of that thing?

Yes, there is a god.

More Boys, More Fun

This guy takes the cake: The Pterodactyl
(please note that extremely loud, annoying, obnoxious music will play when you click this link)

I thought seriously he must be joking, but no, he has his own MySpace groups with names such as "Pterodactyl Fan Club," "PTERODACTYL LOVERS UNITE," "There's a little Pterodactyl in us all" and my personal favorite "i love fucking pterodactyls." I'm not quite sure if the word fucking is being used as a verb or an adjective here, you decide.

I suppose there could be worse things one could obsess over.

Maybe.

He Said, She Said

Her: I don't think that's how it works...
Him: Ok, mom. I mean, I mean Kate! I meant Kate, I was thinking mom, but meant Kate.
Her: Mmm-hmm.
Him: This is gonna hurt.
Her: Mmm-hmm.

Happy Valentine's Day!

This pretty much sums it up:

#@%$&*@#

If you hear a news story about a woman out of Charlotte, North Carolina going bat-shit crazy with road rage, know two things:

1. Yes, I am that crazy bitch, and
2. The other person is a fucking asshole and they totally deserved it

That is all.

Fun With Boys

I recently joined MySpace as a certain blog I enjoy reading there only allows MySpace users to comment. It should be noted that there is nothing of any significance on my webpage, all you will find there is a photo and the fact that I went to Purdue. I didn't answer any of their inane questions such as "Tell us about yourself" "Who I'd like to meet" or "How big are your tits?" (ok, maybe I made the last one up, but you get the idea).

Even with no information about myself on the site, I still get daily messages sent to me from men (and I'm using that term loosely) who want to meet me or "be my friend." Seeing as I get so much enjoyment out of these, I thought I'd post a few for your reading pleasure.

Bachelor Number One: I've got me....get you

Twenty-six year-old male from Charlotte, NC who wants to know "are you picking up, what [he's] putting down????"

His Message:

hey wussup kate? girl you are adorable to me. can i get to know you?

Survey Says: In this great day and age, man has discovered and mastered the usage of upper and lower case letters... come join us!

Bachelor Number Two: Display Name

One hundred year-old male from Space, Egypt who would like to meet "Just some new friends. People to chat with. And what ever else that mite [sic] happen."

His Message:

Hey sweetie how are you doing. Just saw you online. I must say your a very beautiful woman. I would love to get to know you some time.

Survey Says: Sentence structuring. Gets the better of me. Sometimes, too. So does? Knowing when to? Use question marks?

Bachelor Number Three: Steve

Twenty-two year-old male from Charlotte, NC whose interest in books is "I DO NOT DO MUCH READING BUT WHEN I DO I LIKE BOOKS THAT TEACH YOU THINKS."

His Message:

HEY THERE I SEE YOU ARE NEW TO THIS THING SO AM I SO I WOULED LIKE TO BE YOUR BUDDY IF YOU WOULED LIKE TO BE MY STEVE

Survey Says: THE LIGHT AT THE TOP RIGHT OF YOUR KEYBOARD MEANS THE CAPS LOCK IS ON, DUMBASS

Reasons number 454905, 8743085, and 340983509834 I am infinitely happy I am married and not on the dating scene any longer.

Pretty fly, for a white guy

So today I went to the most dreaded of all places: Wal-Mart. I try to shop at Target at all costs but unfortunately they were completely sold out of two things on my list today, potting soil and condoms.

As if purchasing potting soil and condoms didn't raise enough eyebrows as is, my cashier had to bring further attention to my selected items with the following conversation:

Wal-Mart Cashier Bitch: You know you got Magnums?
Me (whilst turning every shade of red): Yes...
WMCB: You a white girl.
Me: Oh my god! I am?!
WMCB (leaning closer to me, voice lowered): Is your boyfriend black?
Me: No, my HUSBAND is white. And well hung. Now will you kindly take my goddamned credit card so I can pay for my Magnums and get the fuck out of this god forsaken hell hole?

Her response to that was to ask Wal-Mart security to step over. "Security" turned out to be the little elderly man at the front door who was kind enough to shoot me a sympathetic look and ask me to pay for my purchases and be on my way, which I did as quickly as possible.

As I was walking out the door, I heard a spray bottle being pumped and the WMCB say, "Don't touch that yet, honey, she had condoms on it."

For the love of christ.

/rant