Saturday, August 27, 2011

I growed them for you!

Not really. I did grow my nails really long these past few weeks. Not for you though. For myself. Just to see what it was like to be a lady. They were strong, they didn't break, not even at work. I had my doubts. It was an experiment of sorts.

But I can now say, seriously, long nails are sick. In a bad way. Like, kinda gross with stuff getting under them (don't try to smash hamburger up or anything). And, just a pain in the ass. I guess dudes don't really understand this because they never get very long nails, but honestly, you're not missing anything.

I couldn't type. I had to be careful with everything. Like sex stuff and making doubled up paper bags at work, opening boxes and scratching itches. What a fucking joke. I don't understand women and their desire for long nails, being a 'woman' and trying it, I've discovered that it's some serious bullshit.

Every time I looked at my hands I was like, 'ew, um, are these actually my hands?' And the answer was 'no, these aren't my hands, these are the hands of a freakshow'. Am I glad that I did it? I guess, but I'm never doing it again. EW. I actually had to cut them twice cuz the clippers couldn't handle the immensity of my extension.

I'll never be a fancy lady. Never.

Tuesday, August 16, 2011

A moment at a family party

Me, drunk, eating a plate of pasta salad. I place it precariously upon the table, promising myself that I will be careful to not spill it--


FLLUUUGGG!!! I JUST SPILLED A WHOLE PLATE OF PASTA SALAD ON MY LAP!


Me (speaking sadly, as if I've given up on life): "Great now I've got pasta salad on my vagina."


Best part? I only spilled it ON TOP of my long shorts, but my Dad was still like "I'm out of here!"


I'm bringing vagina's back baybee.


Monday, August 15, 2011

HA HA! I went tanning!?

So. Today I had the opportunity to go tanning (for free). And. I. Took. It.

I've never EVER been in a tanning bed before. I've laid out in the sun, randomly, at different points in my life, but I've never cared enough to get a tan-line, or keep up with anything at all.

And this sounds insane, I know it sounds insane...But last year my mom BOUGHT a tanning bed for her HOUSE. I was like, 'That's weird, don't do it...'. But no one listens to me ever. So, it happened.

Now, my mom uses the tanning bed, and my sister does too, but neither of them (somehow?!) look like mandarin chicken yet, so I guess they both actually do know how to moderate themselves. I had my doubts in the beginning.

But today, maybe because of Jersey Shore, maybe because of pure curiosity, maybe because I wondered what it was like to be a 'real woman', I jumped in and fake'n baked myself. And it was life-changing.

Not really life-changing, actually, but weird. First I used some lotion which made me smell like pure summertime. Then I had to put on some weird glasses that suction-cupped my eyes to death. After that, I tried to relax. Yeah, but I couldn't. Because I was all like:

'You are getting RADIATED!'
'YOU ARE GIVING YOURSELF SKIN CANCER ON PURPOSE!'
'I CAN FEEL THE CANCER GROWING!'
'MY BODY FEELS WEIRD ON CONCAVE PLASTIC!'

I had to remind myself that once in a tanning bed is not going to give even the canceriest of cancer victims a 'final push' over that edge. As of twelve hours later, I do feel a little warm on the skin front, but not any worse than spending thirty minutes in the bright summer sun. And it brings me that much closer to the Jersey Shore life. I'm kidding...OR AM I!?

And don't judge me too much. I was curious for an ENTIRE YEAR!

Wednesday, August 10, 2011

A conversation about Jersey Shore...

I am always jibber-jabbering at anyone and everyone who will listen, unfortunately for him, it usually happens to be my boyfriend. So, yeah, the season premier of Jersey Shore happened the other day and it was on my mind, so of course, I was thinking about reality tv, and what that means...


Me: What would you think if your kid was Snooki and ended up being a reality tv star?

Boyfriend: ...I would be very disappointed...

Me: What if your kid ended up being Jwow?

Boyfriend: I would molest it...

Me: What if your kid was The Situation?

Boyfriend: I would kill it.


I hope our future child is not a reality tv star...Unless our future child ends up being Snooki, because Snooki rules and I don't care if my that disappoints my boyfriend...


If I could actually learn life lessons (which I refuse to do) I would learn to stop it with the hypothetical situations...Says Mike Hypothetical The Situation...