Where I write a few lines for Rebecca Black

As promised, here are more questions, as well as a super bonus at the end of the post.


NUGS: If I ever trick Ryan Gosling into marrying me, what will you wear to the wedding and how many drinks will it take to get you into the closet with the the hottest groomsman?


When this happens, I think I will wear something really really skimpy. Or maybe not wear anything at all. I have a closet full of dresses, but will wear nothing to your wedding.

Also, since I don't really drink anymore, I think it would take like 2 amaretto sours to get me drunk. Which is sad. I drank an entire bottle of White Zinfandel this past weekend, and had a horrible hangover the next day. I'm really sucking at life.


Part Two- you'll still make out with me, right?


Yes. Also, remember when we told a creepy guy at the Cubby Bear that we were lesbians - who were married to each other?


Part Three - who would play you in a movie?


Salma Hayek. Because 1) she's hawt! b) I'd have to be hawt in the movie. It's like movie law. And meerkat), I can't think of any other Mexican actresses. Because you know a movie about me would have to be super accurate.

^^^ See ... LIKE TWINS!

BooyaBobby: Yeah, where can I get some bait?


Like for fishing? Or like for? Not fishing? I don't know. I've never fished before.


Dave: If you could travel back in time, where would you go?

I've always skipped this sort of question on college applications or work applications or surveys or whatever. I find many times in history very interesting and I would want to know what it was like to be there. However, I'm not really sure I'd literally want to be there. I mean, most of the times I would want to see would be times of war, and what if I died while on my time travel vacay?

Rish: Rebecca Black is writing a new song. Subject matter? 


Speaking of Mexicans, did you know Rebecca Black is Mexican?! Or like part Mexican.

Anyways ... I'm pretty sure her next song would be all about "Homework Sucks" or a power ballad about the boy whose locker is next to hers but she freezes up any time he smiles at her. I'm shooting for the power ballad.

I wish I could talk to you, 

I'm such a fooooooooool,

I freeze up when I see you, 

Locker boy just looooooove me! 

Much better than Friday. Rebecca, call me the next time you need someone to write a song. 

Get to know me, kinda, or not.

To get myself back into the blogging mode for 2012, I've enlisted some of my favorite bloggy pals to ask me some questions that I will answer below. So if you have any questions for me, you can ask them in the comments section and I will answer them later this week.

Tits: "If train a leaves Chicago going 50 mph, and train b leaves Memphis going 60 mph and train c leaves LA going 45 mph, when are you going to dance around in your underwear for a vlog?

I was never good at these sorts of math problems. In high school, I used to just draw the little diagram on the sheet of paper, the little box with rate, distance, mph ... I don't know if I ever got credit for it. But anyway .... Rate X Distance = WHENEVER YOU WANT ME TO! I did have a weekly vlog... maybe I should start that up again.

Ginny: "Will you make out with me?"

Yes. Please. Now?

Dave: How does one go about making a sentient toaster oven?

I don't think I have an answer to that. My only guess would be to have a dead person's soul go into the toaster oven. Sort of like this:

Rocket: What sucks more a leech or Ryan Seacrest?

Uh .... Ryan Seacrest. You know why? Because he brought this upon us:

Why RYAN? DO YOU HATE AMERICA? YOU MUST!

Would you rather get hit in the crotch or the boobs?

Contrary to popular belief, it does hurt when a girl is hit in the crotch. Seriously. Maybe not as much as it hurts a guy, but enough to incite some unnecesary pain. I also got hit in the boob once with a soccer ball and had a huge bruise for about 2 weeks. It turned all sorts of colors... purple, black, greenish-yellow... But to answer the question... I think I'd rather get hit in the crotch.

Texts conversations III

Last week, my sister got a text from someone she didn't know inviting her over to have Greek food with someone's grandmother.  They also informed her that Mel was back in town, and he was also going to have Greek food with the person's grandmother. 

Being the trickster I am, I decided I would text this person to see if I was invite to dinner too. 

Apparently, my name is now John.

Did you know that my boyfriend is a huge Packers fan? Well, yeah. He is. I know! And I'm a huge Bears fan. This is me making fun of their recent loss:

Think Pregnant Thoughts, Pt. 2

I decided not to take a second test right away. Even though it was slowly killing me inside to still be unsure. Stupid invalid test!

I tried my best not to think about it. Like, because I would just end up driving myself crazy. Good thing I had a ton of movies I wanted to watch. This totally helped. But even after watching Rango and Super 8, I kept thinking about it.

Finally, I decided it was just best to go to sleep. But I wasn’t allowed to. I was forced to watch Pay it Forward. Which by the way, I hate that movie. It made me cry. A lot. I hate when kids die in movies, it’s just not right. Originally, my plan was to take the test, get a negative and the get drunk off what was left from the bottle of Ciroc I got my boyfriend for his birthday.

I woke up with the sudden urge to pee. So I got up and killed two birds with one stone. And just so that I wouldn’t get an invalid result for the second time, I pee’d on it a little more. I was relieved no one was awake yet, because for some reason, whenever you’re trying to be sneaky, you’re apparently very loud. At least the boyfriend’s roommates were not 2 feet away from me. (Honestly, I don’t think they were even home).

I walked back to the bedroom and placed the test on the dresser, and told myself “THINK PREGNANT THOUGHTS!”. I just stood there. Staring at the stick. Watching the control window develop it’s little line.

“DON’T THINK PREGNANT THOUGHTS!” as I paced back and forth. I ended up stubbing my toe on a chair and whimpered like a puppy, and woke up my boyfriend. He saw the pregnancy test on the dresser and he hugged me, not even knowing if it was positive or not.

“I think we can look at it now. It’s been like 10 minutes”.

“If it’s been like 10 minutes, why haven’t you looked at it?!”

“Because I was too scared to look at it myself, duh!”.

He laughed at me.

We finally looked at it.

NOT PREGNANT!

While I let out a HUGE sigh of relief, I felt kind of sad. Maybe this is what it feels like when you’re ready or just a little grown up.

Since it was still pretty early in the morning, I decided to go back to sleep. While I was trying to go back to Dreamland, I told my boyfriend, “what if there is a baby in there, and he’s just playing Hide-N-Seek?”.

I didn’t even get a giggle.