Confessions......

Because one must PURGE thine evil doings so your soul may regain that new car smell....

1. I have a New Kids On The Block Greatest Hits CD.
In my car.
Right now.
and it gets played often.


2. I sometimes order food at restaurants with a scottish accent so I can feel really international without having to wear a beret or anything. Plus the hubby gets embarassed because my accent is really bad until I get a couple of drinks in me. After the help of a some alchoholic beverages, I turn into William Wallace...sans the blue face paint lest I be mistaken for a scottish smurf. (Miner Smurf..remember that guy???)

3. The word "duties" always makes me laugh. (get it? DUTIES...DOODIESS??..yeah, I know..I'm an idiot.)

4. I secretly wish incurable, itchy road ass on people who email forwards two or three at a time and don't delete all the other prior emails so then I have to scroll allllllll the way down to actually see the "oh so funny" email,picture, or whatever the hell you sent me. And to be honest, if I have to scroll down a page and a half to get to the joke, I'm not feeling the good humor anymore.

5. When I was playing powder puff in high school, I exaggerated an eye injury so I wouldn't have to play. (I got elbowed in the eyeball and I pretended that it made me temporarily blind....it was an Oscar worthy performance.) We were losing the game anyways and I had a formal dinner to go to afterwards so I had to preserve the face.
Go Team! (me)

6. I once ate an entire Tobleron bar in less than two minutes because the hubby was coming home and I KNEW that once he saw the coveted Tobleron bar that he would want to "share." Meaning I get three pieces while he inhales the rest.
what?
Have you eaten a Tobleron bar??!?! You wouldn't want to share it either.

7. In order to get some class spirit in high school, I took an old sweater, sewed on two sheets to each arm (creating 'wings') painted 9 on one wing and 5 on the other and "flew" around class assemblies trying to get my class to "outcheer" the other classes. Which they did....amidst all the laughter. They were laughing WITH me. Not AT me. I swear. The next year, I made a cape.
Don't you wish I was YOUR class president in high school??? I know you do. Admit.

8. I had an inappropriate dream about........(brace thyself).... David Hassellhoff. All I remember is hairy chests, the KITT car winking at me and waking up terrified.
Hold me.

9. I want to see 300 for its brilliant cinematography. And by cinematography, I mean ABS.



10. I'm really an old gay man reincarnated into a 30 year old woman's body.

Tranny Letter Fridays, with Special Guest: Bit Bit The Chihuahua.

Dear Serena,

Whatever “supplements” you’re injecting into your tranny ass, taking is making you look a lot like Patrick Ewing. Patrick Ewing is disturbing enough to look at as it is and I really don’t need to see him squeezed into a tight dress with a pair of man-cleave peeking out to say hello. And while I do appreciate that you shaved your chest hair and mustache (kind of), you should have headed further north to your eyebrows that appear to know no bounds. Much like that sad ass weave that you got from the Kentucky Derby collection, your eyebrows are scaring the shit out of me. Did you draw those in with a Sharpie? Did Oprah wipe her ass on your face and leave skid marks? (Gayle’s gonna be pissed.) Are you and Peter Gallagher having an eyebrow growing contest? I’m so confused.
Anyways, the point I’m really trying to make is that ‘roiding up is nothing but bad news Serena. You’re going to end up having a manlier chin than Rumor Willis, your balls will shrink and you won’t be able to get it up anymore.
Don’t say I didn't warn you.

Love, Me.

P.S. don’t beat me up.


Dear David,

Why can’t other celebrities follow your lead and be a happy addict??? Truly you are a man who enjoys his Jack and Coke..(not the fizzfizz kind, but the sniffsniff kind). I don’t know what kind of statement you’re making by dressing up like Betty White on her way to a PTA Christmas party, what I do know is that Tom Cruise has gotten wind of your new look and knows that this is a cry for gay sex help. He’s beaming himself over to your house to recruit you for Scientology. Don’t worry. Tom told me that the recruitment process is really simple and only requires you to sign some paperwork, answer a few questions, receive an anal probe topped off with a Xenu teabag massage and a happy ending, to rid you of any evil alien entities that live within you. He’ll probably have to do it a couple times…those evil alien entities are stubborn bastards. But seriously, it’s no big deal.

Love, Me.


(And now a letter from OUR mailbag……)

Dear Elaine,

This letter is a desperate plea for your help.
I’m really scared. I’m lost. I’m confused.

Some bald girl wearing a bad, two dollar wig from Ebay is holding me hostage.
I know you understand the urgency of my situation just by the simple fact that I’m contacting YOU for help. After all, it is well known that your people find my relatives delicious. But at this point I don’t care! Come rescue me please! Call Peta, call Chuck Norris, shit, call Paris Hilton! Lord knows what type of disease infested crabs might crawl on me just by sitting on that skank’s lap, but if that’s the sacrifice I have to make to be rescued from the evil clutches of Mrs. Jean Luke Picard, then so be it! Why must I endure the torture of being sandwiched between a bag of pork rinds and a cigarette? One time, she mistook me for a can of Red Bull and drank straight out of my ass. Crazy bitch didn’t even notice she was tossing my salad. (she wasn’t even good at it…and my ass smelled like onions for days on end.)

Help.

Love,
Bit Bit, The Chihuahua


I’m either running out of shit to say or these celebrities are boring the hell out of me. Yes, Brit shaved her head and went wacko, but it’s a sad kind of wacko, not the fun Tom Cruise, jump on the couch, pretend I like girls, spit on Brooke Shields wacko. He’s the master of cuckoo. No one compares. Where are you my Tom??



I miss you.

Have a great weekend everybody!!!!