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It's a known fact that my favorite downtime activity is perusing Etsy for ridiculous things. It's a mecca for crazies selling their wares and I love them for it. It's true that sometimes I check it out for crafty ideas that I can do myself because I'm cheap I like to make things, but mostly I look for crap that no one in their right mind would ever need or want.

Well, guess who's had a whooole lot of downtime lately due to an unplanned pregnancy and sooner-than-planned move south? That's right, this girl! The past nine months have been seriously lacking creativity on my part (it's the lack of booze I tell ya!) but it's all coming back (it's all coming back to me nooow) now that I'm close to pushing this kid out... and because my girl Lindsey sent me this first gem which of course led to more. Etsy's search is like the sidebar on You Tube. The possibilities are endless!

The Fu Man Chu Mustache Pacifier

This should be at the top of every expecting parent's want list. It's a binky AND a porn-worthy mustache! Held together by non-toxic water based glue and then some regular ol' glue gun stuff, it's sure to last a lifetime... or until your kid discoveres it has hands and can grasp things.

ThE OrIGInAL Monogrammed Embroidered Personalized Pacifier Binky Mam Clip OR Toy Leash Holder

Bush Boy enjoys long walks on the beach, the music stylings of Barry White, and everything associated with the leisure suit and seventies porn. Bonus points for rANdomLy cApitALIzed letters and the longest product name in Etsy history.

The Love Knot Maternity and Baby Wrap

Nothing, and I mean nothing, says "I Love My Baby" like wrapping your belly in something that looks like a chainlink fence. For the bargain price of $3.99, I'm half tempted to buy this and figure out how to read a crochet pattern.

I searched for "Baby Teeth" thinking, "Oh cute wittle boxes to hold stuff for the tooth fairy!" I got this instead:

Baby Tooth Hair Charm

There was also the Sterling Silver Baby Tooth Fairy Flower Necklace, which makes me think of the poor, unfortunate souls in Ursula's cave in The Little Mermaid.

Have heard of reborn babies yet? I have. unfortunately. This Ebay auction is for three reborn baby dolls, they're triplets y'all, named Ruby, Jasper, and Crystal. For the bargain basement price of £590 ($971.38 American) you can own these precious nice lovely creepy dolls. They come with all sorts of useful accessories, like a SIDS dinosaur and clothes. They also have subtile painted on veins and their skin is also mottled. To be honest, Jas, Crystal, and Ruby look a little to Fight Club for me. I like my ridiculously expensive baby dolls to have clear skin and hair I can curl or crimp (guess who Cabbage Patch Kid collection last week). To each Dr. Frankenstein reborn creator their own, I guess.

Finally, I present to you... 4 Baby Teeth (vintage!!!) in Tiny Ceramic Cases

I bet these would go great with Buffalo Bill's human skin suit. Maybe a nice lil' necklace or some fancy earrings. I bet his ears are double pierced.

That's all I have for now, the actual human teeth for sale are kind of freaking me out a little...

PS- Because Twilight always happens when I search for things- there's this:

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It's that time of year again- New Years Resolution Blog Time! I could be original and write about something else but I have writers block really want to do something with myself in 2011. Something that will make me a better person... or at least make me look good when next December rolls around and I'm still going strong.

I've been making resolutions since I was in junior high and only succeeded during the "be a vegetarian" year because I'm competitive and people told me I'd never last. I wrote down that I wanted to be more like Chuck Norris for the family resolution jar at Christmas but being a good kicker seems like a lot of exercise.

No way José.

I thought about starting one of the 365 picture project things. I'd start a new blog for it (An Occasionally Sober 365 Project: In Focus & Out of Booze?), get a calendar to remind me to do something every day, and ultimately post the pictures in a timely manner to the interwebs. 

Waaaay too much work for the girl who uses the made up? word "half-assedly" on a daily basis.

There's always the ol' "do a good deed everyday." That might impose on my snarky bitch reputation though and I've been working on that for awhile.

Eating better is out of the question because my favorite food groups are potato chips and booze.

Cutting back on the internet would leave me with nothing to do when I'm drunk at three in the afternoon blog about. Crazy Etsy sellers and Twihards are my lifelines, damnit!

Pssht, like I'd leave that horribly visible make up line!

I would like to learn more about the wine I drink on a daily weekly basis. I could resolve to choose based on my entrée rather than by label when the entrée portion of dinner isn't the bottle of wine itself. I do live five minutes from a great winery afterall. This could be a keeper if I can manage to turn off the "Pretty bottle! I want to go to there!" portion of my brain.

Oooo so neat! I mean, does it go with chicken?

There are just so many options. I can't really decide at the moment what I should do. Little of column A, little of column B might work in some instances. I could drink better dinners by choosing better wines and beers. Go local and craft!

Maybe I'll go with something completely different, like finding and listening to a new band every week. Think of how broad and classy my music knowledge could be! Of course, then I'd not only dress like a hipster but I'd have the musical taste of a hipster.

Sigh. Fucking hipsters. They're everywhere.

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Ever have one of those "Oh haaaale no!" moments on facebook? I have. Quite often actually. Usually I keep them to myself, though, or talk about the perpetraters behind their backs in true girltalk style.

This time, however, I'm throwing it out for the interwebs to gobble up because it's that good.

In fact, it's a 610 word paragraph! It's practically a love song to Glenn Beck at one point. It's yet another self-proclaimed "nice guy" turning asshole when things don't his way! Poor baby :( Let's read it together, shall we? It's copy and pasted, word for word, with the addition of paragraphs for easier viewing:

"You want to know me, well here it goes. It’s hard to tell you anything or get to know someone when you don’t respond to any text and when all I’m trying to do is see how you are doing for the most part. You could at least do the courteous thing a respond to a Text in a reasonable time or say leave me alone I don’t like you instead of just ignoring them."

"I do happen to like girlie girls, not dumb ones but at least sentimental ones whom say their favorite movie is “The Notebook”. I do like to do the romantic thing and dote over a girl and give them attention."

"Its why there have been married women in my life because I know I’m a nice if not great guy and most of the time they got married to their tool of a husband because they got pregnant or he was the great athlete only to finally realize that person was really the Asshole everyone tried to warn them about."

"I do want to get married some day and I most certainly want kids."

"After Thanksgiving the third since Grandma died and it’s looking more and more likely there won’t be very many of the tradition Family Holiday get-togethers I grew up knowing and that are why it’s important to have a family of your own and make your own Holiday traditions."

"I do have opinions on those who say they will never get married or have kids and that is that they are usually liberal women who end up being alone and grow more bitter with age because they are missing something very important in their lives and before they figure it out they are barren and unable to do anything about it."

"Because of that they cling more tightly to their liberal ideals and think, I wouldn’t feel so miserable if everyone else in society didn’t hold marriage and family as such an important basic common value in life. Then they try to teach or push their belief on others so everyone else is as miserable as they are and they don’t feel so bad."

"I don’t believe you’re that person or want to but chances are with your attitude toward marriage and kids, you could. I can tell by your “people watching” and intolerance of improper grammar that you are someone who sits up on her “educated” perch and judge people."

"You don’t like Glenn Beck; can you tell me why you don’t like him with actual facts? Do you ever watch him or know for certain he is a complete moron? Because I happen to like him and is something I watch on a nightly basis not just because I agree with 80% of what he says but because most of things that he has been saying over the past couple years, you know the stuff he has been made fun of for saying or is the reason why people like you don’t like him,"

"Well, those things are NOW ACTUALLY HAPPENING. Is that why you don’t like him? I know “educated” people don’t like to be proven wrong and it pisses them off."

"I for one will be prepared when 2012 or sooner if the end of civilization happens, I most definitely believe something will happen. Whether I believe Mayan prophecy, I do, or whether other ancient civilization or the Bible has for seen the end of Days, I do as well, or not, I do know too much about History to know that the World is on a very dangerous path. I’m sorry but I believe what I believe."

So there you have it, interwebs. Moral of the story? Single men over the age of 29 in the homeland are a liiiiitle needy when it comes to text message replies at 9am and on holiday weekends... among other things. I won't list those though because I'm nice. Well, almost. Sort of? Okay so I might not be nice... at least the people I bang are all single.

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I saw Harry Potter & The Deathly Hallows Part 1 this evening. Well, this morning actually.

I wore my Muggle shirt and Gryffindor scarf and sat in the theater for two hours in order to see this movie as early as possible. It was quite worth it. I like Harry Potter... a lot. I even reread the entire series over the summer to prepare myself for The Deathly Hallows. That's effin' dedication folks.

I had all intentions of coming home post-midnight viewing, making myself a cup of tea, and writing some longhand notes on the experience. Why longhand? Because that's how JK wrote most of HP and it seemed right I planned on being too lazy to open my laptop at 3am.

That all went to shit five minutes into the movie.

You see, the Harry Potter kids have grown the eff up. By "HP Kids" I mean the guys... and by "grown up" I mean GOT HOT. Likes seriously hot. Two t's hott because they all have accents (Praise be to casting for their British/European only actors only policy). It's not just the regulars either. The new cast members aren't lacking in the gorgeous department.

Feast your eyes on what I like to call The Harry Potter Parade of Hot.

Daniel Radcliffe (Harry Potter): Wanna Bang.

Tom Felton (Draco Malfoy): Wanna Bang. Twice.

Rhys Ifans (X. Lovegood): Wanna Bang.

Helena Bonham Carter (Bellatrix LeStrange): Don't judge me. Bitch plays crazy to perfection. Would Bang if given the opportunity but I'm pretty sure she's crazy in real life married to a dude so I'll settle for admiring her from a safe distance.

Matthew Lewis (Neville Longbottom): Want. To. Bang.

Jamie Campbell Bower (Gellert Grindelwald): Wanna Bang.

Nick Moran (Scabior): WANNA BAAAAANG!

Jason Isaacs (Lucius Malfoy): You guessed it. Wanna Bang.

Rupert Grint (Ron Weasley): Honestly, I don't really like gingers. This kid does it for me though.

OH Bill Nighy! How the fuuuuck did I forget you?! WANT. TO. BANG. DESPITE AGE DIFFERENCE. HOT.

Freddie Stroma (Cormac McLaggen): Wanna Bang but not say his name.

And finally, The Pièce de Hott Résistance:

Alan Fucking Rickman.

Also known as Severus Snape. I'd jump Alan Rickman for his voice alone. It doesn't hurt that I think he's a foxy older guy, but in reality if he said "Hello" to me I'd start looking for the nearest hotel. Don't act like you wouldn't do the same. exact. thing. Hell, I doubt he'd even have to talk to me. I'd settle for a look.

In conclusion (I think that's conclusion, I just spent two hours Googling), HP7 was epic covered in some steamy awesomesauce. The rest of the cast wasn't half bad either. Did I leave anyone out?

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November, rather, Movember 18th is Have Sex With a Guy With a Mustache Day.
No, seriously. It is.

If that highly credible PSA told me anything, it's that having a go for mens health is what to do this Movember. I mean, Ball Cancer KILLS (I'm obviously immune to technical terminolgy) men everyday. The least we, as women, could do to support the men who wore pink all October long is a little horizontal mamboing for a day. We could also buy shirts from CityStache, where 50% of proceeds help fund prostate research.

I for one am glad the dudes picked something like 'staches to rep their cause because I can never keep track of ribbon colors. Pink for tits is easy enough but the rest blur together a little. I'm also happy because it's been previously stated that I'd look absolutely ridiculous with facial hair and this whole Mustache Rides for Cancer finally gives me something to contribute to the cause besides my booze money.

Not that I'm going to search out a guy growing a mustache and/or other facial hair for cancer and ask if he wants to bang or anything, I'm an effin' lady. We don't do things like that outside of frat parties. What I will do though, is celebrate the day with pictures of men who are doin' it for cancer.

Let's say hello to Tom Dyer, shall we? He wants us to donate to the UK Movember sooo I'm taking it that he's British and I'm all about accents. He also plays guitar, hot, and is going for the Tom Sellack look. Awesomesauuuuce.

This gentleman is Nate Bishop. I'm going to ignore the fact that he's from Pittsburgh and focus on his stache and kiiiiller glasses. He's being kickass and raising money with Team Balzac for mens health. It wouldn't hurt him to smile though.

I have to feature my favorite stache, the one attached to Michael Denteeeeeeeeen. He's a wicked cool kid living in the Seattle, WA area doing his thang. Ps Donate Your Money to Save Balls. He's going for the Watson from Sherlock Holmes look. Y-E-S.

This guy from Spacedrugs looks Fierce. I like. I don't know much about him, but I hope he gets shagged properly for the cause.

Hulloh Jamie from Glasgow. He says he's still working on Movember. I heartily approve. The smoking though, cooooould go. Lung cancer sucks just as much as ball cancer kids!

That's what I've got for now. Go forth and doooooo somebody ladies! Maybe one of these cats, maybe you're own special fellow. Guys- it's the PERFECT day to use the mustache ride pick up line to dooon't waste it!

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Well cats, it's Movember. If you're a dude that means finally having a reason to see if you can fill out a whole mustache. If you're a chick like me, it means not having shit to do all month. I mean, come on. How sexist can you get? I can't disregard social norms and play along unless I want to join the circus. Does the circus still exist? I might be better off joining that county fair freak show that had the giant octopus last year. Then I'd be a carny. Ew. Plus, I'd probably look ridiculous.

So what exactly are we women to do this November? Stop shaving our legs and whatnot? Pssht, not me. Lucky for us, this month has something else going for it. Something better. A little slice of heaven if you will. It is without further ado that I introduce my back-for-a-limited-time friend, The McRib,

Yep. I'm celebrating McRimber. McDonald's has taken it upon themselves to bring back that fiiiine piece of boneless pork covered in a tangy barbecue sauce and topped with onions. (Pickles too but I don't eat pickles on sandwiches.) It's sandwich perfection, a phrase I normally pull out only for the Double Down so you know it's good.

I think my favorite part is the sloppiness of it all. If I'm judging it based on the barbecue standards of how fuckin' messy I am after consuming, The McRib's getting some pretty high marks.

Mmm. Saucy.

Some people don't get the McRib. They aren't keen on the idea of boneless rib-shaped pork. I'll admit that it's a little wonky, but my high school served something called a bakeable pork fritter so I'm slightly immune to wonky pork (if that's what she said I feel bad for her). I've never been around hogs so I can't 100% confirm that there isn't at least one McRib shaped cut. I have, however, been around chickens and know for a fact there's no McNugget part of the bird.

So suck it haters whilst I eat my weight in McRibs throughout the month of McRimber.

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I like tattoos... a lot. Probably more than the average white sorority girl from rural Ohio should. I also don't take ink too seriously (I'm the girl with the skull & crossbones on her wrist goodness sake). I have been thinking about a design that actually means something as of late, which is a big step in maturity I do believe.

Anywho, back to things like jolly rogers.

This is DeShawn Stevenson:

And that, dear friends, is Abraham Lincoln. I've heard mumblings that Lincoln was a vampire hunter so maybe Mr. Stevenson is just anti-Twilight and True Blood. Maybe he's into small bills as opposed to throwing hundreds at the strippers. The world may never know (though I'm sure he's explained it and I'm just too lazy to Google it) what's up with NeckLinc.

Say Hellooo to Chris "Birdman" Anderson:

WTF, I ask you, is this shit? Free? In rainbow colors set against purple flames? Thank goodness he has that uber-appropriate for the NBA mohawk or you wouldn't be able to make out the giant dollar sign behind his ear. It's a case of godawful permanent graffiti, that's for daaaamn sure. I sure as hell hope he doesn't get injured and have to something other than play basketball for a living.
(source: blacksportsonline.com)

Other Things People Really Spent Money On...

Half Of A Twilight Book:

Because I can't look a damn thing up without Twilight getting involved: That is (apparently) a quote from one of Stephenie Meyer's best selling "novels." I've only read the books once so I couldn't tell you which one it's from. I'm all for word tattoos, just not half a page of text tattoos.

Fucking Hipsters:

As if the asymmetrical haircut, tight jeans, thrift store shirt, and multiple scarves weren't enough of a give away.

Long Live the SNL Chippendale:

If Chris Farley is on the other calf as a half-human/half-buffalo creature, I wholeheartedly approve.

Another Shit Twilight Tatt:

Pro: When you shittily (I'll make up words if I want, dammit) recreate the images from Twilight you don't have to worry about copyright lawsuits.
Con: You've shittily recreated images from Twilight.

You're On What Side Again?:

My first rule of tatts is never on the face. Why? Let's say I want to commit a crime (nothing big, maybe I want to key an ex's car). Security cameras are EVERYWHERE these days, not to mention camera phones and iPads

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It's called GlowFur and thanks to Etsy (c'mon- who else?!) it's available for purchase. Apparently the GlowFur bra is not included in the $550 price of this fantabulous coat. Taaaalk about letdown. The only reason I originally clicked this item in my email was that I wanted my tits to be fuzzy and neon blue when I go to the cluuuub (is that where you wear GlowFur?) and get my dance on.

There's also a GlowFur Corset. For when you want to do some risque medieval/80's role playing. This one reminds me of those glow stick things they peddle at Kings Island when you're leaving at night. Glue some of those things on some Victoria's Secret crap and you've got a corset-o-glow. Probably for less than $225 too.

Oh yeah, in the event you don't want to be glowing or ya know- it's daylight, the GlowFur Coat can turn off. Then instead of looking like a New Jersey Stripper you just look like you're wearing a dead dog. Convenient!

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Confession time y'all: I Google. A lot. My googling often leads to Youtube.

I search for the. most. random crap too. Many times it's a legitimate search for something I need (How do I hide booze in my bra), other times it's for general help (plural form of penis), and once in a while I search for songs that I've heard while out or remember from way back but can't recall the actual name.

The latter is what I did today. More than a few times in the homeland, DJ's and jukeboxes (no fancy schmancy digital shit here folks) spit out this song called "Living Next Door To Alice." It's a catchy tune, I like it. Of course, it sounds ten times better with "Who the fuck is Alice?" inserted into the chorus and that's what generally happens around here.

Now, whenever Google sends me to Youtube, there's a 95% chance I'm going to spend an hour clicking in the related videos section. By an hour I mean at least two. A lot of times I find out that I actually like the band as a whole and not just that one song. Sometimes I find exceptionally bad covers that make me giddy like a kid in a candy store. All in all, I'm rarely disappointed by their suggestions.

That was, until everything I googled and youtubed (probably not a word but fuck it) came with Twilight. It's very obvious by my previous blogging attempts that I'm like a moth to a flame when it comes to Twihards (the technical term for crazy effin'  teenagers and 50 year old mothers). They do and make some kooky crap that can be found by searching for the most non-Twilight things. Case In Point:

After listening to the song above, I scrolled through the suggestions and saw that one was made "for my friend Alice." Someone made a montage for their friend using a song that allows people to shout "who the fuck is Alice" in public. I was thinking what you're surely thinking right now- This has got to be cute, right?! WRONG.

Say hello to Techno Alice. I'm gonna go out on a limb and say that the owner of this video doesn't know Alice, mainly because Alice is a fictional character and partly because it's all photos of a person called Ashley Green.

Last week I went to Cincinnati to eyefuck Joe Perry see Aerosmith for a fabulous lady's birthday. In anticipation of the two hour drive, I decided to make a mix CD filled with their classics. Gotta brush up on your lyric knowledge if you're gonna be singing loudly, ya know? So I did a lil' searching to find out what they've been playing on this tour and, like usual, got sent to Youtube...

All I have to say is at least this crazy dedicated fan had the decency to label it BELLA&EDWARD. Unfortunately for me, that label's like the effin' bat signal. Have. To. Watch.

Wouldn't ya know- they effin' did it to Cryin' too! I won't embed but I'll certainly link it. Watch Crappy Montage of Twilight HERE! It must be the lunatic Twilight Mom's from Oprah making these because I don't think teenyboppers will know who Steven Tyler is until he debuts on American Idol.

Another time I was watching Talladega Nights and was curious as to what an actual spider monkey looked like. According to Google, this is a spider monkey:

Huh, go figure. I thought they'd be harrier, maybe have less-sculpted eyebrows, and probably not be wearing slip-on shoes, but what do I know?

Later, I googled Dumpster Diving because I've become obsessed with that American Pickers show. If you haven't checked it out, you should. Quality entertainment and waay better people than those pawn shop douches. They even hung out with a real life Hobo. He was all ridin' the rails and junk while the guys were all over the river and through the woods to find stuff. It was cool, very "Americana." Anywho, back to Twilight ruining my search results: Dumpster Diving with Robert Pattinson

I can't argue with this one because I find Letters To Twilight ridiculously amusing. I also think Robert Pattinson looks like he slept inside a dumpster on most days so it fits.

Still doesn't mean I'm okay with shoddy teen lit taking over my pointless searches.

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Ah Ohio summer. You've done me wrong so, sooo many times and yet I keep coming back for more. The heat, the humidity, the fact that I'm allergic to everything you encompass. Why do I do this to myself? Is there a reason I'm living out a John Cougar Mellencamp song with a season? You bet your biscuits there is.
It's Wedding Season!

For a good drunk like myself, Wedding Season provides something more than line dances, breaking hog troughs, and cake. It offers quality open bars with both beer and something with vodka called Ass Cracker. In the Homeland, on any given Saturday between May and September, if you can find a steeple you can find an open bar. I'm not much for religion, but I love a good Catholic wedding. They love their beer, which is something I can definitely relate to.

While I'd like to tell you the grand ol' story about my friends from high school getting hitched (the bride was beautiful & it was a faabulous time), I can't due to my hair still being full of secrets I said I wouldn't yet divulge. The hair even kept me from attending another wedding on the same day. Bummer, non? I certainly think so.

What I can tell you is:

• Finding out Catholics cut the Lords Prayer short isn't fun when you happen to be reciting it at the time.
• There's enough time between Homeland weddings & receptions to go home, gossip about who's bangin' who, swap clothes, switch back to the original outfit, and go to the bar before the reception really gets going.
• Free beer + Complimentary Koozies = Love.
• You can nickname a girl "The Wicked Witch of The West" and, quite literally, talk about her behind her back without her catching on. Stacy's either a really good nicknamer or the Wicked Witch is a really dumb chick. I'd say a little of column A, little of column B.
• A bottle of whiskey left unattended on a table results in shots straight from the bottle on the dance floor. It also promotes bonding. I like to kill with kindness first, then with booze.
• 30 drunks singing "Goodnight Sweetheart" isn't something you want to hear unless you're one of the drunks.
• My friend Matt's mom is a fuckin' champ. She finished off the bottle with both grace and poise.
• Post reception bar time is always an amazing adventure.

Since other juicy details won't be appearing on the interwebs, I'll give you next best thing- Wedding Shit From ETSY!

This beauty is called "A'maelamin," which according to the seller, is Elvish for My Beloved. I'm no linguist buuuut Google doesn't translate Elvish making me 95% sure it's not a real language. I do like those cookies the elves make so I'm willing to accept it if Google ever does. I think my friends would hang something like this in their unfinished basements or behind the refrigerator.

Gay Ninja Marriage Shower Art. Perfect wedding present if you ask me. I feel like I should be sneaking into the Westboro Baptist Church to decorate their restrooms with some of these.

Ladies & Gents: Lego Darth Vader in a Tuxedo Cufflinks. I'd totally be okay with my groom wearing these to the wedding. I'd buy them for him as long as I didn't have to do any Star Wars role play. Who am I kidding, I'd probably do the Leia gold bikini bit. I'm a geek at heart.

Honest to The Flying Spaghetti Monster, I found this under "Wedding." There are no words other than in no way would this be an acceptable gift.

Even crazy cat ladies get married to creepers they meet on craigslist wonderful people who don't mind the scent of Meow Mix guys who are heavily subdued by allergy medication.

The listing said "Mature Audiences Only." I'm attracted to those listings like moths to a light. This one didn't disappoint at. all. PS- That's soap.

If you liked it then you shoulda put a ring on it: Felted Finger Edition. That whole ring in the champers bit is soooo last week.

I don't know what the eff these are supposed to be so of course I included them. The listing says "Wedding Cake Gay Marriage Topper Vampires." They've certainly got Twilight-quality wigs going on buuut other than that I don't get the vamp part. They're also not intended for children under 6, so polygamists should go ahead and take the tradition cake topper route.

With that, I bid you adieu, wedding Etsy... at least until the next fiasco.

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It's not often that I come across something that makes me want to have a boyfriend. I'm quite happy filling the role of perpetually single person in my family. I'm not very good at remembering crap like birthdays or the anniversary of a first date or that I should check with someone else before making plans. As long as Zachary continues to date a girl who refuses to come to family events I'll never have to be the oddball out on camping trips and whatnot.

In a nutshell- I'm a selfish commitment-phobe who sleeps in the middle of the bed and it's working quite well for me.

Then I find shit like this. This crap makes me want a significant other something fierce. I want to pay for these beauties and put them on my effing holiday cards. I wouldn't do it myself because that'd be like admitting that I'd spent enough time dreamily thinking about being a mormon vampire to make it a photoshopped reality.

"Baby! We'll look like characters in a shabbily written teen lit novel! It'll be soooo cute!" I do enjoy the labels on the former. Like the pale skin and eyes weren't enough of a indication. The latter displays "The Lion and The Lamb," taken from one of the gayest quotes from the book. I'd ask if they could do "Purple's Cool" for mine. Apparently in both cases you have to add your own glitter to whomever becomes the vampire but that's okay with me, I (obviously) have lots of free time.

I was thinking maybe after getting the cards printed up I could commision a painting of me and the boytoy like this. I really like how the artist has captured this bloke's neck goiter. Extra points for using Kevin Bacon's Footloose prom tux for wardrobe inspiration.

If boyfriend proposed, I'd have a reason to buy this sculpture of two dolphins humping a heart. Sigh, if only.

I guess until I find a guy who's okay with me being a trophy wife cause I'm better at looking pretty than doing actual work a soulmate I'll have to stick to the singles-only categories on Etsy. Darn.

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Things I love: Mexican Coca-Cola (real sugar is delicious), corny music from 80's pornos, Vino, crazy shit people try to sell on Etsy, and making fun of morons. I know, I know- it's a diverse list.

Today started out as a "let's write about Mexican Coke" day after I purchased a case of the delicious bottles from the local Wal-Mart, that was, until I opened my email and saw this gem:

That, my friends, is a fucking bedazzled tampon finger puppet. Complete with a string and sad face! A $35.00 tampon I might add. What the deuce do you even use a tampon finger puppet for? Would I have been more alert during that 5th grade lecture on "changing bodies" had the county nurse used this bad boy? Well, probably, but only because my eyes focus on sparkly things and those are some quality jewels suck on there.

Tampon finger puppet got me thinking (as I sometimes do when slightly sober), what the eff else does Etsy have to offer me in the not-quite-pc genre of gifts? I'm always on the lookout for kick-ass Christmas Gift Exchange stuff...

Since the bedazzled beauty covers the vahjayjay spectrum of fun, I decided to search the global handmade community for my favorite word- phallic.

Say Hello to the moderately priced Mr. Happy.

Mr. Happy, as far as I can tell, is a felted, dancing penis figure. For a mere $850 (€648), he can be yours. I think his feet are actually the balls with the torso representing the shaft. It's safe to say that I'm ridiculously second-hand embarrassed for the seller.

Next up- Fetus! I've previously found quality shit on Etsy with the word fetus (hello Twilight ornaments), and once again- the handmade community doesn't let me down:

That, lovelies, is a fetus necklace. Not just any fetus but (according to the seller) a:

Five week old fetus. You won’t have to wait until the birth to show this little guy off.

Yup. If I'm ever unlucky enough to get knocked up (and God help that child if I do) I'm announcing it via fetus necklace. It could also be a useful tool for pickin up chicks. If she's wearing one of these- run the other way. Immediately. She's either knocked up or crazy, both extremely undesirable.

To round out my Etsy shopping session, I took a break from creepy and decided to look for gift for the kiddies I choose to like. My favorite animal? The beaver. Large cute teeth, funny lookin' tail, lots of material for dirty jokes, what's not to love, right? This is what I found:

Cute

Cute
 
WHAT THE FUCK.
That's a real beaver fetus. In a jar. Just in case you couldn't tell.

With that, because I have no words and my eyes are severely traumatized, I bid you goodbye. There's a bottle of wine that should sufficiently erase the beaver fetus from my memory calling my name.

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He was an old man who stood alone in a television studio in an ill-fitting speedo and he had gone eighty-four days now without groping a thigh.

Enter Human Slip-N-Slide. Old man dons a speedo and gets covered in lubricant in order to make his way across scantily clad women. Pure. Fucking. Gold. The old guy is key to the gameshow. You have to use an older gent on slip-n-slide because watching him get too close for comfort with women young enough to be his daughters is like watching Law & Order: SVU funny. A young man slip-n-slider would have turned this gem into a televised fraternity party, and who really wants to have permanent proof of what happens at those?

Sure, the creators could have avoided sexual assault lawsuits hedged their bets a little better by actually teaching this guy how to slip-n-slide, but where's the fun in that?! The closer this man's hands are to chick-bits, the funnier it gets, and isn't that the pull with Japanese game shows? I think so. I wouldn't just watch some guy being horrible at slip-n-sliding for the hell of it (yes I would), there has to be that "uh, seriously?!" moment for it to keep my attention. 

Human Slip-N-Slide doesn't just provide slip-n-slide groping action though. It also features some sort of "how many balls can these young girls fit in your underroos" segment, pitting a young buck against handsy old guy. Can anyone guess what happens when you fill up boxer shorts with what appear to be lube-soaked Nerf balls? Yup. Someone's gonna show some peen.

So here's to you, Human Slip-N-Slide! You're a game! You're a porno! You're the "what not to do" portion of a sexual harassment video! You're ten different types of entertaining TV and for that, I salute you.

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Recently, while perusing the media center at a neighborhood Wal-Mart (after three large beers at BW3's I might add), I came across the ridiculously large display of New Moon (the second movie in that shabbily-written teen vampire lit series) paraphernalia. They had shirts, mugs, purses and posters all plastered with the Forks, WA crew. They had everything a pedophile trying to lure little girls tween’s heart could desire. I half expected to find a line of condoms until I remember these are sparkly Mormon vampires we’re talking about. The selection was still fairly well stocked leading me to believe that the Wal-Mart employees were on their game there’s not a vast population of twihards in Miami county, which I assure you- is a good thing.

What stuck out to me though, in that sea of overpriced cotton, were the candy bars. I love chocolate something fierce. As I picked up one of these little marketing treasures, I noticed they were filled with peanut butter, caramel, and crème. Say whaaa? Paint me Austrian and call me a Von Trapp, New Moon, cause those are few of my favorite things. I wanted one. I needed one. I was going to eat the fuck out of one and call it a blog post.

I sifted through the pile of candy looking for the one I wanted. I'm nothing if not a perfectionist and I knew an Edward Cullen chocolate bar would go perfectly with the Edward Cullen Fetus.

Once found, I anxiously awaited the moment that I could rip open that fucker and take a bite. I delicately peeled apart the edges so I could photograph the little wonder. The three pieces of chocolate were stamped with New Moon staples: A lone wolf howling at the moon; The infamous Cullen Crest; and sandwiched in between was a heart bearing the name Bella. So fuckin’ cute, I bet those crazed 16yr olds eat these things like they’re football team penis vitamins.

Then it happened- I bit into the first piece. The lone wolf became one with my tastebuds. I expected hints of smooth peanut butter to mingle with the milk chocolate and form a veritable wolfpack in my mouth. I chewed in anticipation and

It.

Was.

Fucking Horrible.  

I broke off the second piece. The Cullen crest chocolate with caramel. You can’t really fuck up caramel, right? Wrong. Though I still can’t figure out if it was just the cheap chocolate melding with the caramel that made it so bad. Either way- the Cullen’s tasted like faux chocolate mixed with caramel mixed with spunk. Speaking of jizz…

Chocolate #3. The Pièce de résistance, if you will. The Bella piece. Thus far her boytoy and boyfriend had both left me with a bitter taste in my mouth (ahem, that’s what she said) but I still had hope for Bellers. I’d already sampled their version of peanut butter and caramel fillings so Bella had to be filled with the crème. I took a sank my teeth into the hard chocolate of Bella’s heart and was surprised by how much the filling didn’t fucking suck. It was actually quite tasty and didn't make me want to guzzle the wine I was drinking straight from the bottle. I sat the chocolate down to collect my thoughts, savoring the palate cleanser that Bella’s heart had provided.

Then I noticed it. The candy bar makers seemed to have missed the Mormon memo, as Chocolate Bella was oozing crème vampire jizz that she’d been filled up with. Really chocolatiers? Why not fill up the Cullens with your tasty jizz (did I just fucking write that?!) or give it to lone wolf Jacob? Cause that'd be too easy!

So ten points to you, cheap movie-based chocolate bar makers, for giving me reason to write about vampire jizz, because heaven knows that Mormon author won't. I look forward to the treats you churn out for Eclipse.

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I have laughed in the face of danger on three separate occasions. The first with the aid of copious amounts of alcohol and friendly encouragement (the Gino incident), the second will never be spoken of again, and the third?  

Say hello to the KFC Double Down. Fried chicken, cheese, crispy bacon, more cheese, and another piece of fucking fried chicken. When the Colonel skirts the line between doable and angioplasty, he does it with fuckin’ style my friend. The Double Down is a fast food conundrum in my book, the most confusing non-sandwich sandwich ever.

Do I want to eat it? Yes. Do I need to eat it? Uh, Yes. Do I really care about the ten years this beast is going to shave off the end of my life? Pssht, I never planned to live long enough to piss myself anyway.

(This would be the opportune time to inform you that I come from a thoroughly southern fried family. My grandmother kept an honest to goodness vat of lard in her kitchen at all times and I never turned down a thing she sat in front of me. I was bred for food like this, which is probably why I'm not in the ER. The Force is definitely with my stomach.)

When I first set eyes on my Double Down, I thought I’d never make it through. Where I expected thin fried chicken were two fairly meaty fillets. It stood in its grease-soaked wrapper at an impressive four inches tall, which is a lot to fit in your mouth (that’s what she said). I manned up though and the first bite was fuckin’ heaven. The melted Swiss and Pepperjack made the DD stand out just like the fact that KFC took “chicken sandwich” literally as did whatever sauce the KFC teens slapped on it. A true marvel swimming in a sea of plain jane chicken sammies. The chicken wasn’t quite extra crispy but it was a bit better than the usual soggy bun I want to discard immediately. Plus there’s the no digging in your teeth for sesame seeds factor that instantly bumps it up in my book.

Disappointment came, though (as it always does when I'm infatuated with something), in the form of the poor excuse for bacon between my two kinds of cheese. I love bacon, KFC. You don’t want to fuck with my bacon. I know that Sidney isn’t Porkopolis (I’ll be expecting better from you Cincy) but really? There wasn’t enough pig on my Double Down to make even one respectable piece of bacon. Porky wouldn’t have felt threatened sitting next to my DD and that is just unacceptable.

Setting aside my bacon woes, I was in love. With a chicken sandwich. A chickwich. A sandken? Call it the Brangelina for all I care, it won my heart and probably the heart of whichever Cardiologist takes the referrals from my doctor's office. I would highly recommend it to anyone with a Grandmaster Jedi of a stomach. Two greasy thumbs way, way (well as high as my arms can get during a heart attack) up.

Why did I even try the bastard though? It fascinates me. Because, really, how the fuck is the DD is just now coming out? How did this culinary wonder not make its grand entrance during the low-carb Atkins movement? The DD is the spokeswich for fat girl Atkins! KFC bypassed the tortilla and lettuce wrap-style options offered by other restaurants and went straight for the jugular by excluding the bun altogether. That bitch trying to weigh 4,000 pounds just found her Garden of Eden.

So, while I sit here trying to figure out if I feel sluggish because I’m pumped full of allergy medication or because the chicken-cheese-bacon-cheese-chicken has finally made it to my heart, I salute you KFC. You’re always one step ahead of the other fast food establishments and two steps behind the latest FDA guidelines for living a full and healthy life.

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Brown eye is a real problem in America. Rear Gear Butt Covers is taking it upon themselves to right the wrongs being thrown in the faces of citizens everywhere. Frankly I'm glad someone is finally taking it seriously. I'll admit, it took me a hot minute to figure out how @paddickey had found this shit in the first place process what exactly I was seeing but I instantly knew the inventors had a winner on their hands.

"Real Gear Butt Covers. No More Mr. Brown Eye!"

(Go ahead, run away, I'm still gonna promote the fuck out of you.)

RGBC's will forever change how American's view the assholes of puppies and kitties. These things are going to impact society more than that hooker's fist impacted the ShamWow guy's face. My usual search for what to write about had suddenly became clear: Today, I would dedicate my blog to helping the RGBC people sell more Butt Covers.

Now, I know what you're thinking: "Huh?!" A sentiment I also thought once my profanity-laced laughter had subsided. I traded a few one-liners on Twitter with Pat because he always needs to prove to Erin that he's actually funny that's the kind of thing we do with our time. Then WeirdNews supplied me with a story of a crazy taser-resistant dog who was obviously mad that his owner failed to get him the Sheriff Rear Gear. It was just like the moment when Ariel gets her voice back from the Sea Witch in The Little Mermaid. AahhAaahhAaaah!

Me + Rear Gear Butt Covers = Fate.

RGBC has some good ideas. You can adorn your pup with a bio-hazard sign, an evergreen tree (to match the shaggin' wagon), flowers, and even hanging dice. You can pimp your ride and your kitty cat like they're twins. Generic shapes and objects aren't really my cup of noodles though. I like specifics and I really like scratch-n-sniff (as does Pat) and thusly, I've created a new line of butt covers. I'm pretty certain that with these little nuggets, RGBC's will really take off.

Idea #1: The Shitter's Full Strategery

Whether you're a die-hard Republican with a closet labeled "Dead Democrat Storage" or a Dem with love for shoe throwers, this butt cover's for you! A pink flower serves as the backdrop for one of politics most infamous mugs, George W. Bush. As an extra special treat, we've made Dubya scratch-n-sniff! Texan bullshit has never smelled better!

Idea #2: The Twilight Anal Shroud

We're combining two of your teen's favorite things: the puppy she begged for and has yet to take care of and fake vamp Robert Pattinson. Also in scratch-n-sniff, though it's not our fault that RP's natural scent is dog asshole and cigarettes. Write him a letter about that shit, not us.

Idea #3: The Diva Drop

Made with our Broadway lovers in mind, the Diva Drop Butt Cover is one to flaunt. Encompassed in a star is The Tango Maureen herself- Idina Menzel. Idina helps your dog tackle the tough LGBTQWW (Lesbian, Gay, Bi-Sexual, Transsexual, Questioning, & Wicked Witch) questions with grace.The DDBC scratch-n-sniff smells like hand-crafted beers made in local breweries.
(RGBC cannot be held responsible for wickedness being thrust upon your pet.)

Idea #4: The Backdoor Lollipop

Your pitbull will love this one folks. Sitting inside our heart butt cover is a quality photo of Lil' Wayne's grill. Let your pet be the talk of the dog park cell block. Added Bonus: Weezy's grill has the our patent-pending scratch-n-sniff scent of soap on a rope!

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Confession: I have the internet browser history of a 45 year old housewife. I Google some of the most random shit imaginable and then search for pot roast recipes. I fully expect to own 18 cats when I'm older.

My latest find? MakeMeBabies. I originally read about it on a friend's blog and quickly discovered that I had an obsession acute fondness for allowing a website to mesh my photo with that of a celebrity. To quote their website:

Like that cutie superstar? Want a kid from that hot actress? Hey, no problem! MakeMeBabies makes the dream come true by allowing you to make that baby online with whoever you want! Just pick your celeb, and voila! you have a baby!

Way to hit the nail on the head, internet. I have zero desire to have children, this is a widely known fact. I'm way to selfish and they're way to sticky. MMB will allow me to appease my family's need for refrigerator baby pictures without completely ruining my vagina.

MakeMeBabies provides a sleeeeew of celebrity photos for you to choose from. Want a baby as pimp as your ride? Meld your face with Xzibit. Does it annoy you that your real child keeps getting beat up on the playground? BAM! MakeMe a Jack Bauer baby. Lookin' for a daughter whose beauty can stand the test of time and look okay sans eyebrows? Let MMB mangle your face with that of the Mona Lisa.

Though if you want a kid who looks like a hobo and hangs around dumpsters, you'll have to upload your own picture of Robert Pattinson. Like I did.

Baby's First Word? Hotpocket.

JUMP to more awkward baby photo goodness!

Maybe a hot British baby isn't your cup of noodles though. Maybe you want something better for your fake child. Maybe you don't care about looks. Perhaps you want your baybay to have a really good sense of humor to make up for a less-than-fabulous face so she'll have lots of friends and a baller NYC apartment. MMB, once again, has you covered.

she's the daycare queen of one-liners & loves real fur. suck it, Peta.

(apparently my babies will look the same despite different fathers)

MakeMeBabies is an equal-opportunity time waster and it doesn't discriminate based on sexual preference. I checked.

The newest model in the Jolie collection. She obviously didn't get my pigmentation.
 

The one thing you don't want to do on MMB is use a photo of someone you actually know. That's a good way to figure out who you should focus your facebook stalking on because no one wants an "accidental pregnancy" to yield an ugly baby fucking creepy. You never know when your lappy might breakdown and the last thing you want hot computer fix-it man to see is the files filled with imaginary baby pictures that feature "exboyfriend'sname JR" as titles. Not to mention there's probably some psychobabble bullshit out there that says dwelling on the past is a bad thing.

(my two hours of wasted time wishes to thank Whitney and her ginger kid w/pattinson for MMB)

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ghettoball.MOV Watch on Posterous

let's take a stroll down memory lane to when UC had a decent basketball program, hott cheerleaders, and.... real good rappers?

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