I am going to start trying something a little different now in my blogging. Not worry, I won’t get to sappy. I’m thinking from time to time I will write little blogs here and there revealing things about it. Just little tidbits to let you inside my mind a bit and muck about.
All I know is if he Hey Girl‘d me I’ve smack his ass (and no not in a form of coitus).
I once confused someone’s fart for a two egg breakfast…
My favourite pass time is sleep.
I am claustrophobic. Like actually so. Getting into an elevator is like shitting out a brick. It’s hard and rough, but somehow I get through it. Airplanes are the worst for me, I’m ordering beers every time turbulence hits. (I once saw a cat on the airplane wing, but that wasn’t the beer)
I play the shit out of video games. Through and through. I can’t rush through any game, I need to find all the nooks and cranny’s. Games with zombies aide me in overcoming me fears of not being able to find hidden gems and achievements. LEFT FOR DEAD my friends, DON’T BE A HERO.
You know how they say, you are what you eat? Well, after a hearty bowel movement I tend to take a look back, you know to see if she sinks or floats. A couple of times for a couple of days it was all blue. I’m talking about Queen Elizabeth royal blue. I’ve never been able to look a blue sour candies the same again.
After a long 8 hour drive to my grandma’s with 5 passengers and a dog in a crammed vehicle my claustrophobic ass could not wait to get out of the damn clown car. Unfortunately, the old man pushed the breaks a little to far and as I was leaning forward my dog flung backwards and my finger….my poor finger….it was my dogs first unintentional enema. The poor pooch couldn’t look at me for a week.
My grandma knocked me out when I was a wee little lass. After her countless calls for me to go to bed, I put my acting skills to use and pretending to sleep on the couch with my eyes open, while Dallas was on the TV. So be the good, kind lady she was and still is she picked me up by the ankles, carried me up the stairs and my head hit the banister on the way up. Needless to say I was sleeping like bear hibernating.
I stole money from my mom’s purse so that I could buy rocks from my little sister’s rock selling store. I feel it was a terrible investment.
There is this place under my ear, close to my jaw line, that I loved to be kissed on.
In high school, I received a marriage certificate. My husband, Ewan McGregor. My mother’s response: Great Scot! He sure was, wasn’t he.
When my V-card got swiped, I cried like a baby.
The smell of curry makes: my skin shrivel up like a prune, my nose burn, my stomach churn and makes me want to vomit. I would rather eat worms then be near the terrible smell. (For those of you who don’t know, my first experience with Indian food, left me hugging porcelain for three days.)