It's Not Us, It's Them...Them And Their Stupid Boy Penises

I love you, I do. But sometimes you act...well, stupid. Come to think of it, you do something stupid nearly every day. You are, in fact, a man. After three months, I should have learned to expect it, right? But that's just the thing, I really don't expect it. It catches me off guard every time.

It's kinda like my period. It happens every month, same time, like clockwork. But every time I get it, it's like what the hell? you again? Then I remember, this happens every month, and I can go about my business.

I'm On Top of The World (keywords being: on top)

When it comes to the success of a blog, my standards are perhaps a little different than most. It's my opinion that a blog's success is not measured by the number of comments left, or the amount of traffic it gets, but by the caliber of the readers it attracts. Imagine my elation when I found out that my lovely blog is number 9 on the google results list when you type in "nerdy whores." Yes, right there after "18 year old slut with webcam." I. Am. So. Proud. Actually, the words "nerdy" and "whore" have probably been the biggest thing attracting people to my blog. Hmm...let's try a little experiment, shall we?

Moist Nugget
Hot Pocket
Candy Rub
Glitter Pouch

Now all I have to do is sit back and wait. Those dirty minded readers will come pouring in.

Muah (that's a kissy sound)

Hey, remember what I said about my next kiss being the best ever?


All I'm gonna say is...I told you so :P

Preemptive Rejection?

When you put your profile on a dating site, there are certain things that are to be expected.

However, I was surprised to wake this morning and find this in my inbox, from a complete stranger...

"No...not even CLOSE!!!

I ain't going to have my kids raised to be Jesus freaks and Jesus nerds...sorry!

I hope you didn't plan on messaging me.."

(For the record, I wasn't planning on it.)

Ask and it shall be given...right?

Dear God,
I'm not trying to be pushy. It's just that it's been a while since I've had a boyfriend, and you know my last one was not so great. So, I was wondering if you thought I could possibly get one sometime soon-ish. I'm not picky, you know. He doesn't have to be my soulmate or anything. I've read the Christian dating books, I understand that you're busy working on the man I'm supposed to spend the rest of my life with. And hey, I know it's not easy trying to make a slightly nerdier version of Bret Michaels. And then trying to find one with curly brown hair (to give my children the best chance of having curly hair) No, I get it, these special requests take some time. I can wait. But if you could just send me one of your backups or something, just to tide me over, that would be great. Thanks,

Narnia + Regina Spektor = Lovely

Let me first say this: I don't typically enjoy reading blogs which consist mainly of song lyrics, poems, book excerpts etc. It's kind of...boring. You may have noticed that my blog is not boring. That is no accident. I purpose in my heart, with every post that I write, to make this blog as un-boring as possible. But this is a lovely song. <3

It started out as a feeling, which then grew into a hope
which then turned into a quiet thought, which then turned into a quiet word.
And then that word grew louder and louder until it was a battle cry.
I'll come back when you call me, no need to say goodbye.

Just because everything's changing doesn't mean it's never been this way before.
All you can do is try to know who your friends are as you head off to the war.
Pick a star on the dark horizon and follow the light,
You'll come back when it's over, no need to say goodbye.
You'll come back when it's over, no need to say goodbye.

Now we're back to the beginning. It's just a feeling and no one knows yet.
But just because they can't feel it too doesn't mean that you have to forget.
Let your memories grow stronger and stronger, 'til they're before your eyes.
You'll come back when they call you, no need to say goodbye.
You'll come back when they call you, no need to say goodbye.

There's something about Monopoly and Grey's Anatomy that makes me want to curse...

No, really. Filthy words. I make sailors turn and stare. They ask me to please have some class. But tonight I cannot restrain myself. If you are easily offended, or you are my mother, please stop reading now. Okay...now!

Holy Fucking Shit!
Seriously? Seriously!

Grey's was...mindblowing. Seriously! (that's #3. Trying to limit my seriouslies tonight. Wait, seriously's? seriouslys? seriouslies? serious lies? The word serious has lost all meaning to me, but I digress) Amazing. I think my television had an orgasm (I came pretty close myself) It's downstairs having a cigarette as we speak. Where to start? The boy trapped in the cement was interesting. He was cute, kind of a geek, just my style. He reminded me of a certain Blockbuster employee who has the hots for me. (We'll just call him Dorvy)

Meredith's psychiatrist/psychologist/whatever the hell she is was as obnoxious as ever tonight. She kept telling Mer that the answer was right in front of her. Like she was solving some sort of freaking riddle. It reminded me of those Nancy Drew games I used to play. You get stuck and call one of Nancy's friends for help and they say something like "Gee, Nance, you're a smart kid, you'll figure it out." Meredith did finally get it, thank God, but it was just as cheesy when she figured out the answer. Ugh, moving on...

Something about George and Lexie...and Alex has two...tangerines was it?

Speaking of Alex. That one man put me through so many emotions tonight, I think I need a drink. Yay, he has a soul! Boo, he called Izzie a stupid bitch! Aww, honey please don't cry! I must admit that I've been secretly hoping for some more Alex/Izzie romance. But the kiss at the end just made me ball like a baby (inwardly, of course) Not really sexy, just sweet, and sad and wet.

Know what else is not really sexy? Callie and Erica kissing. Ew, I just tasted my lasagna again. Apparently I was wrong to believe that Callie loved penis. How could I have been so blind? The disgust then, was not at Hahn, but at her own desire for Hahn? She was torn between what her head knew she was supposed to do and what her heart yearned for? There's that gag reflex again.

Derek and Meredith FINALLY got it right. They saved a patient, made medical history, and more importantly realized they were meant to be together. All together now...Awwww! There was some slight anxiety during those final moments about whether or not they would actually find each other. Derek went to Meredith's, Meredith went to Derek's, they probably passed each other a few times on the freeway. I understand this. My family has this problem when we all go Christmas shopping. Mom said she'd be in the shoes, but she's looking for dad in the sporting goods, but he's hanging out by the bathrooms. At some point, people start calling each other and we all meet up somewhere. What? Derek doesn't have Meredith's phone number? Eventually, they do find each other, and Meredith has set up an elaborate display complete with little spiel about how much she loves Derek. Sweet, but I have some problems with this. First of all, How quickly did Meredith come up with this plan? When she arrived at Derek's house, she was not carrying an armful of candles. Was she like "Hey, he's not here yet. I'll make a home out of hundreds of candles to be ready when he arrives." Second, How did she get that many candles. If you're trying to tell me that Derek has a hundred white pillar candles in glass jars lying around in his trailer, I'm not buying it. Third, did she carry them all down there two or three at a time? Did she use a wheelbarrow? Cute idea, Shonda, but not. very. logical.

The Adrenaline is starting to wear off. I feel like I could sleep for years, or at least until Grey's comes back in the fall.

Adieu to you <3

"We screw boys like whores on tequila..."

Ah, Grey's Anatomy. In case you didn't know (i.e. you were living in an underground cave, you were in a coma etc.) Grey's has returned. It's back, and it brought with it the little piece of my soul that the writer's guild stole with their strike.

SOME NEW DEVELOPMENTS:

Mark was hoping it was his turn to have sex with Derek. Perhaps this is why he was trying to style his hair just like Derek's?


Calica? Ericallie?
There's something skeevy going on between Callie and Dr. Hahn, but Callie insists to Addison that she likes penises. (Ew, I just felt skeevy writing that word) I believe Callie when she says this, mostly because of the look of pure disgust when Hahn lovingly pulls a hair out of callie's lip gloss. But if this is true, what was she doing with George? Oh Zing!


Speaking of George...lately he's seemed sort of--how do I put this?--Asshole-ish
I didn't appreciate the way he kept ignoring Izzie and leaving her out. And he moved in with Lexie, who can take a flying leap for all I care. Asshole. But he kinda made up for it at the end with this: "You know, whenever anyone says something really funny and I laugh I always look around to see if you think it's funny too. Even when you are not there, I look around."


Addison was back just long enough to call Callie a lesbian and threaten to kick Meredith's ass. I think she also may have saved a baby's life or something.

Bailey had some sort of heart to heart with Addison about how her life is falling apart, but I didn't hear all of it as I was too busy concentrating on how huge her lips are.

Alex got a visit from Jane Doe/Ava/Rebecca who claims to be pregnant with his baby. He kinda acted like a jerk. Then he helped save a baby, gave the longest speech I've ever heard out of him, and apparently decided to be like an actual human with a soul. In the last shot we see of him, he is in the classic "I'm gonna be a daddy pose" with his hand on Javabecca's (that works, right?) belly. Then we find out that she is not really pregnant. (GASP!) That bitch.

Mmhmm...it was good!

It's been approximately 28 hours since Schmett and I parted ways and I still can't get this kiss out of my head. I mean, sure it was a little sloppy, he used a little too much tongue and the licking was...weird. But still...wow! Okay, I know! "It was just a dream, no need to get so worked up about it, jeez!" I know. Maybe something like this seems mundane for all of you out there in cyberspace who have people kissing them all of the time. I am not so lucky. It's been a while since I've kissed someone. I mean quite. a. long. while. Like 3 years. (deep breath) There...I said it.

Normally, this kind of confession would drive me to a quart of Blueberry Dream ice cream and a Law & Order marathon. However, as I was thinking about this last night I realized that it's actually kind of exciting. It's been 3 years since I've been kissed. By all rules of logic, my next kiss is gonna be the best damn kiss of my life! Yes, I can hear you screaming into your computers "That's not necessarily true!" and I think I heard someone yell "there are many factors which you must consider!" But I am sticking to my original assessment. Even if my next kiss were with Flava Flav with all his gold teeth poking me in the gums, it would be the best kiss ever. Let me explain myself...

• Best piece of pizza I've ever had--pizza hut pizza after fasting for 32 hours with my youth group
• Best shower I've ever taken--after a weekend of camping at the Winfield Lake
• Best Poop I've ever taken--After a week at summer camp (I wasn't gonna be the one responsible for stinking up the cabin)

This logic is irrefutable. Do not attempt to refute it.

The Man of my Dreams

I am standing around somewhere (Barnes & Noble I think) with a bunch of hoochie looking girls. We are all excited about something, though I don't know what. In walks this guy I have a huge crush on. We'll call him Schmett Schmichaels to protect his anonymity. So Schmett walks around behind a large cardboard wall and sits down. I am told that it is my turn to talk to Schmett and I only have a few minutes. I walk around the cardboard wall (which is painted to look like a brick wall) and find myself face to face with Schmett. We exchange hellos and I ask him to autograph the picture that just appeared in my hand. He obliges and we chat happily for a few minutes. I tell him how I would like to photoshop a picture of my brother's head on a picture of his body. He thinks that is hillarious and tells me so. I hear the angry grumbles of the girls on the other side of the wall and tell Schmett that I should go so the others don't get angry. He tells me not to go and we begin to kiss. He tells me that he would like to see me again. I ask him if that would be okay even though I'm not on his show "schmock of Love." He tells me that he could get in trouble but that it doesn't matter because he is in love with me. I use the sharpie that just appeared in my hand and attempt to write my phone number on my hand, but Schmett keeps licking it off. I giggle, "Schmett, quit it!" and we share a glass of lemonade.

Dear Nigerian man in my math class,

It was very sweet of you to come and sit by me, thus saving me from the hostile looks and grumpy grumbles of the woman on my right. You are very friendly and I appreciate that; however, I feel I should tell you...I can't understand what you are saying. I mean, I catch bits and pieces but for the most part I just smile and say "Oh, uh-huh." This is similar to the response my 2 year-old niece gets when she breaks off mid-sentence and starts giggling "A dow dow dow dow dow." This makes me feel bad. You are not a toddler; you are a grown man. You are just a grown man with a funny accent who talks way too fast, often at inappropriate times. I mean I'd love to discuss kidnapping all the strip club owners and marooning them on a dessert island, but must we discuss it now? While I'm desperately trying to learn how to solve compound inequalities? (That will be on our test next week, by the way) Besides, all your whispering makes me feel like one of the bad girls. You know, the ones who would pass notes in Sunday School and sneak off during church to apply more lipgloss. I don't much like that feeling. So, while I am sure you have only the best of intentions, perhaps you might tone it down a little. Thanks.

My 8 year-old self trying her hand at a crime novel.

A Helpful Stranger

It was a dark still night. Mindy Camden never liked driving at night but between paying the bills and buying groceries she could not afford to argue with shifts. Now Mindy didn't have much money. She had enough to pay rent, buy groceries and support herself, But she drove a cheap little car that allways seemed to break down and lived in a trailer that looked pretty sad. Still, she made do with what she had and allways kept hope that one day she would have a better life.

As Mindy was driving Home she heard the familiar clicking of the engine which meant the car was going to break down. Now this was easy to fix but it was late and she was in a dangerous part of town. So Mindy sat there and waited for almost an hour worrying about what might happen to her. For it was almost 11:00 pm and the gangs and pickpockets would be out soon. Just as Mindy was about to give up She heard a truck becoming nearer and nearer

*That is all I have written down, though I do recall how the story ends. Let's just say the helpful stranger turns out to be not so helpful and more murdererish (if you hadn't already guessed that) I was apparently also considering the title "Cries of Help" as it is scribbled at the top of the page. I think I made the right choice.

Agh, Not another "First Post!"

I know, I know...That first post is always so obnoxious. "Hi, I'm new here..." blah blah, yuck!

No, there will be no first post on this blog. I mean it.