"France" and "Beatings" go good together...

In ANY combination really. "France Beat. Beat France. Beating France. France Beaten." All a wonderful combination of words. This sounds like I've been watching the World Cup or something, but I haven't. I caught a glimpse of it at the gym and it seems like a majority of the game is spent carting off a guy on a stretcher or watching one of them cry on the grass about a broken nail.

As you can tell from last week's sorry ass posts, the four day weekend mentally kicked the shit out of me. I couldn't find my ass with both hands to light a bottle rocket up it, let alone write anything decent. My friend Debi came to visit from Arizona. Suprisingly, she was intact and hadn't melted into a puddle of goo, coming from the Easy Bake Oven state. We went to Pacific Beach on a sunny Sunday, had some drinks at an outdoor bar and marveled at the sheer boldness of the men with gigantic hairy guts, walking past us, with their shirts missing in action. After about a drink or two, we peppered these robust studs with congratulatory compliments,because we're ladies like that. ("Nice Liver ya got there buddy!" "How far along are you?" "Looks to me like you're having twins!" "When's the baby shower?") Needless to say, no one dared walk on our side of the street lest they had abs of steel. But they too were peppered with delightful comments. ("oooh wee. Is your name CHU? Cuz' CHU ARE FINE! - a classic line amongst us) or just all out tongue wagging and lifelike dog barks. Again, because we're ladies like that and we don't discriminate.

Also went to the Del Mar Fair on Fourth of July to watch the fireworks but really, that was only for our girl's benefit. The real reason we go? Fried twinkies, funnel cakes, australian battered potatoes and stuff on sticks. Hot damn! It was ALMOST paradise, except for the fat, jiggly,sweaty folks with halter tops and fanny packs, double fisting churros and barbequed turkey legs, as far as the eye can see. I think I upchucked most of the fair food before the night was over.

"Bloggers who need bloggers are the luckiest bloggers in the world!" Thanks CP for fixing my wacked out sidebar (Google ad's fault. Bastard Google) and Thanks Laurie for the awesome cool shirt that I got in the mail yesterday! This is the time where I would be putting in a pic of the awesome cool shirt; however, Blogger apparently wants to get its ass kicked this early Monday because it won't let me upload any pictures. I spit upon Blogger! PATOOEY! But seriously, much thanks to my blogger idols, CP and Laurie.
Kisses and vibrating dildos all around.

I apologize to my dear readers about not having Fan Letter Fridays last week. I apologize to everyone, EXCEPT Debi (who, interestingly enough hasn't updated HER blog since Nicole Ritchie was just Paris' chubby friend) and DD (who I believe has missed a Diatribe or two...cough cough), who gave me a comment ass ream for not giving them their Friday Fix. May Tom Cruise fly into both your bedrooms and rape your whiny asses with his shrunken alien head on a stick
Hard.
With no KY.
Yeah.

And finally, I hate Star Jones.