gra-tu-i-tous |grəˈt(y)oōitəs|
{ORIGIN mid 17th cent.: from Latin gratuitus ‘given freely,spontaneous’}
adjective:
1. uncalled for; lacking good reason; unwarranted : gratuitous violence.2. given or done free of charge : gratuitous advice.
vi-o-let |ˈvī(ə)lət|{ORIGIN Middle English : from Old French violette} adjective:
1. a bluish-purple color seen at the end of the spectrum opposite red.
noun:
2. a herbaceous plant of temperate regions, typically having purple, blue,or white five-petaled flowers, one of which forms a landing pad for pollinating insects. Genus Viola, family Violaceae.
3. ME.

Sunday, July 29, 2012

Dehydration and Cat Barf

I remember when I was a young kid in dancing school. It was not a high point in my lifetime of awesomeness. I learned early on that most little girls fell into one of three categories:

1] the privileged kid who is doted upon and is a total brat.
2] the "pretty" or "attractive" kid who is treated like gold. Is definitely a twat.
3] everyone else

Maybe I would have been into dance if there were jazz-hands like this!

So, I frumped in the door late to jazz class (barf) and was met by a freckled face of category 1 kid. She was prattling on about a random stupid dance weekend in Philly or some such nonsense, asking if I was going, yet not giving a shit, just enjoying her own voice. Fucking narcissistic kids kill me. They grow up to be narcissistic adults, whom I want to kill. Then Bratty Jones went on about how the prior year at the dance-off she collapsed in a fit of dehydration.

Pissing in the water here. Definitely.

I swear, to this day, I still think dehydration is made up by brats like her, and Mariah Carey-types. How about a glass or two of water to help that sitch? Nope? Never crossed your mind?

So, I am sitting here, throwing myself a mediocre pity-party, fully aware of the fact that I have not blogged, or read a blog in months, waiting for my life to pick up for the best, and avoiding my readers [who have since unsubscribed by like half or so] because I didn't want to be a bitch. But being a humorous bitch is one of my plusses in life. 
What the fuck is going on?

Ugh.

I have managed to isolate myself from reality, cyber-reality and fantasy for far too long. 
AND I am thirsty.

I realized that I missed this forum of bullshit just yesterday, when I was sitting in the glass-front cafe window by my work, enjoying a cup of expensive latte. When I looked down, I saw it: Jam.

I kick out the jams, motherfuckers! All over my tits. I not only left the house with Jam-tits [seeded boysenberry jam is so fucking tasty though!] but I was greeted by the coffee bitch with a straight face, spoke to a slew of my bosses colleagues, made nice with some strangers... all with a generous supply of jam on my cleavage.
 It was not the first time I had to share @ my boobs. Link HERE. 

Jam: Delicious on toast. Great on decolette.

So welcome me back, if you read this at all. Even if I am depressed and experiencing setbacks beyond my control, I will still stop back in for a read of your shit and to spew some of mine.

Fletch barfed in and by my bed, not on my shoe... but I stepped in it. Barefooted. 
Photo above is for affectation.

I am off to find the mysterious stink of cat puke. I fucking swear, it better not be in the bookcase... Fucking bitch cat.

11 comments:

  1. There are worse things to step in barefoot. Not many, but there are some.
    After 15 years, we are finally free of "the dance." I really, really think (hope?) our daughter fell into the "everybody else" category, but it has been an arduous ride from three year old "moving somewhat in tune" to 18 year old dancing on a chair at the Jersey Shore (which sounds more skeevy that it was). But, you are dead on with the categories-my daughter even spoke of the dance instructor's (sidebar, your honor? What compels a dance instructor-who IS IN HER 60s!-to refer to herself as "Miss _____") favorites as the "Fab Seven."
    Bleccchhh!!!
    On a lighter note..."Jam Tits." I'm intrigued.

    ReplyDelete
  2. I never get anything on my tits. And I only wear shirts when I have to.

    ReplyDelete
  3. YES. OMG DEHYDRATION IS A BITCH DISEASE! and then the little fuckers in "third-world" countries get it when they shop too hard at the neighborhood's local pac-sun. BULLSHIT! p.s. i'm still a'readin, so you keep stepping in cat excrement and i'll be here to enjoy :)

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Al, Flip & Luce,
      Thanks for never tiring of barf. And showing me some love... or some Hate, depending on who you are!!!
      Big Pukey Kisses,
      Fletcher [the cat]

      Delete
    2. OH and BTdubs:
      what is on my bed- yup
      A FUCKING CAT TURD!
      NOTHING says "welcome home- human bitch" like a well-placed poop nugget. A stinky one. Eeewww.

      Delete
  4. I know how you feel. This summer has been a bitch on my blogging. Going to to hopefully try to get a blog done of my week and a half out of the real world. Glad to see you back. BTW, Soccer camp has all those categories as well.
    Signed,
    the grunt in category 3

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Suggestion to relieve summer blues: Sex-a-thon?

      Delete
  5. My dear V, it must be the excess solar energy as all the astronomers, astrologers, and Romanian Tarot readers say, that have caused a simultaneously Blog blankness in all of us. But lady, you still gor your punch in full knock-out force it will be a bloody shame if you will ever stop punching on this Blog.
    Jam on the decolette - priceless. I just spewed soda when I remembered having a morsel of popcorn in mine right in the middle of a business presentation when I felt a little itch coming. Fuckin' boobies. Missed ya. ;)

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Basher,
      There DEFINITELY has been some wacky astro blahblhblah going on.
      Love the popcorn cleavage imagery. I hope it was an early morning meeting and that you stumped them 2X!!!!
      BOOBS!

      Delete
    2. Actually- you would have stumped them 3 times!!!

      Delete

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