Quick! Not unlike a bunny!

Someone bring me a shrubbery! I have vast shrubberizing needs!

Tis but a flesh wound.

I do not currently, nor have I ever, desired a pet rabbit.


What Uptown Funk is Really About

The line in the song that gets repeated a bajillion times is like the beginning of any trench coat wearing flasher’s taunt.

Flasher jumps out, opens coat and says,

Don’t believe me just watch… You won’t believe your eyes.

Don’t believe me just watch… It gets bigger. (Lecherous wink)

Don’t believe me just watch… It can windmill.

Dont believe me just watch… It’ll wear a hat.

Don’t believe me just watch… My pecs can dance. Hold on… No really, they can! I swear they did in the mirror last night.

Internating… still at it

And with this soul patch, I dub thee (drum roll please) King of the Douches! Hence forth shall be referred to as His Majesty, King Fluffyunnaturallysoftbeard von Skinnypants of the kingdom of Douchington Gardens. Allow us to celebrate by partaking of the traditional fair of organic vegan sushi and miniscule microbrew ale samples whilst conversing in the common vernacular of obnoxiously obscure big words to describe our current gastrointestinal experience. Huzzah!

Portable Porn

I don’t even know how to start this post to introduce this product so, without further adieu, the creative geniuses at Fleshlight and Apple give thee (drum roll please) THE FLESHLIGHT HOLDING IPAD CASE!


Pic from Mashable and while you’re at it, check out their article on this thing.

So, I don’t know about you but I have a first gen iPad and it can get a little glitchy. In it’s advanced age it sometimes gets a little confused and when I move around too much isn’t sure which way its screen should go. My thought, my question, nay my concern, is this: If you’re going at it, bouncing around, what happens if the iPad gets confused and changes the screen orientation suddenly. Say you’re so into it, dudes, that the screen orientation changes do you suddenly jerk the iPad around to correct that and wrench your penis? Not having a penis myself I can’t really say either way so guys, is this a legit concern?

Another thing I’m wondering about this product is, does it come with a sore neck warning? I imagine that as they’re bobbing the iPad their heads are bobbing up and down in tandem – not unlike a dog nodding at a treat…


Don’t worry girls, you don’t need to feel completely left out. Whip out your vibrators! There’s now an app for that!



pic from Mashable

“Nothing says sexy time like loading an app and connecting to Bluetooth technology.” So true.  So very true.


The next time someone tells me to relish something I’m going to give them actual relish to smear over whatever it is I’m supposed to be relishing.

Course then I’ll be the weird relish chick because I’ll never be able to leave home without at least a packet of relish just in case I find myself in a relish situation or a situation to be relished.

Hmm if I’m supposed to relish a moment I don’t know how we’re going to smear that… but fear not! I shall find a way.

Now I’ve said relish so many times it’s lost all meaning.



Why shave two legs when you really only need to shave one?

Being the cripple that I am, I’m back at physio. This time for my ankle. I managed to get a last minute appointment last week and raced over there, sat on the table, rolled up my pant leg for easy access only to realize… I hadn’t shaved my goddamn legs in like a month.

Naturally, my physio isn’t one of those fancy places with private rooms. Oh no, we’re all together in one big open area, sitting on our tables, chatting away while intermittently being tortured. Which means my hairy frakking leg was on display for EVERYONE. Made ten times better when the physio or her assistant were working on it and had to feel that hairy goodness. They’re awesome people though so they never said a word. Nevertheless, at the end of my two hour torture session I was resolved to not let that situation arise again.

Fast forward to yesterday when it all went wrong.

I had planned on getting up a little earlier so I could shave my legs in preparation for my follow up physio appointment. For most people that would involve setting an earlier alarm. Not me. For me it meant not hitting the snooze button four times. That’s all well and good except for the fact that I slept through my alarm. BY AN HOUR! WTF?! So, in the interest of expediency (not to mention general apathy), I only shaved the leg with the bum ankle and even that was only to mid-calf.  I figured that’s all the physio would see/be touching anyways and no one else would ever know.

All went well at the physio. No one had any idea I only shaved half of one leg. WIN!

Enter the constant variable in my life: My horse, the Carbon Monster

I get home after physio and decide to take Carbo’s blanket off because it’s all sunny and warm and I know he’d prefer to be nekkid rather than have a heavy winter blanket on. Plus, I don’t want the bastard to take it off himself and rip it to shreds. You think I’m exaggerating but I’m not. There was a time where I had to buy a new winter blanket every freaking year because I didn’t get it off him fast enough. Those things are expensive dammit!

I get his blanket off and spend a few minutes currying away his winter coat with my fingers. La la la. All is well. Yay happy pony!

Then I notice it.

He’s bleeding from four spots: His knees, one hock and his nose. The bastard fell again.

At this point I had no choice but to haul him inside and clean him up which, of course, involves a hose, a dirty wash stall, various chemicals and me rolling my pants up so they don’t get drenched and/or excessively dirty. Revealing to all my one hairy leg.


Hide your children. Sequester your nuns. Grab your pitchforks (readily abundant at a barn). By the looks of that leg that chick is half ogre!

hairy leg

Now, I’m not saying that Carbo definitely, 100%, beyond a shadow of a doubt on purpose fell and forced me to show everyone my somewhat questionable personal “beauty” standards. But I will say that the horse is an evil genius who will use any tool at his disposal to get what he wants. Primarily revenge. For stuff like this:

Carbo scarf

The Lord of the Flies is Dead

Long live Queen of the Sharks!

I’ve decided that the bulbous flies flying around my apartment are no longer to be referred to as flies. Henceforth they shall be known as sharks. It sounds far more impressive to say that one has been swatting sharks away from her foodstuffs all day rather than flies.

Person 1: Whatcha up to today?

Moi: Oh, just chillin in my apartment with my sharks. (Walks away without looking back as if something was exploding and she was walking away without looking back.)

Person 1: Fawk. That chick is hardcore.