Tipping is Not a City in China…
Sep 21, 2009 All Things Charli, Etc., I WIN!, P.O.E. Biz, Random, Suck It!, bitch
… or something.
I am blog-blocked. I have so damn much going through my head right now that I cannot muster a focused
thought on much. Last night, after the fair my trip to Mexico, (No I am not a bigot or racist, this is simply an observation that I was in fact the minority to a bajillion Spanish speaking individuals in the fairgrounds which I later found out that this was due to some random Spanish country music traditional festival to drag myself and 3 kids out to. How do you say excuse me or pardon me or get the fuck out of my way in Spanish? Seriously I am asking for the next time.) I tried my damndest to write a blog.
Blogwriting FAIL. Instead I fucking played motherfucking Bejeweled. I hate that game. It is like crack. I played for like 2 hours on Saturday and didnt even realize it until I almost peed my pants because I held it THAT long.) This is why I don’t play video games. Or WoW. Or any of that shit that people try and shove remotes up their asses over.
What? You don’t know?
Not that I have ever tried to stick a remote up my butt in a fit of rage … er … what?!
Heartmelting moment #65212340 in my house:
Me: (after walking in the door on my new schedule) “Hi kids!”
X&Charli: “MOMMYMOMMYMOMMY!”
Charli: “Hi mommy, I am SO happy to see you!”
Let me tell you why this is heart warming. That is probably the first or one of the first fully understandable COMPLETE sentences that she has said. My behbeh can talk!
I was thinking that I have some needs that need fulfilled. (Not those needs. I am currently quite content with that need being taken care of.)
1) I need to write my name REALLY BIG in the sand and then climb up and take a picture of it.
2) I need to finish my back tattoo and get another one.
3) I need to make my first sale.
4) I need to have my way with Charlie Hunnam. And when I say “have my way with” I mean fuck his face off and then refuck it back on so that I can fuck it off again.
Also, my old landlord can 1) SUCK IT! 2) Eat my shorts and 3) GET SOME! He tried to serve me papers all ghetto styles and filled the paperwork out incorrectly so the judge dismissed his case. It didn’t help that he broke the law and failed to mail me a breakdown of his CLAIM of $1400 in damages within 14 days of my vacancy. Bitch whaaaaaaaaa?
Essentially, I win and you sir are a motherfucking luh-hoo-suh-her.
I watched Sunshine Cleaning this weekend. I really liked it. It was funny, quirky, made me mad and also grossed me the fuck out all in one movie. It was nothing that I expected. I like that in a movie. I also watched Bedtime Stories with the kids. Adam Sandler rules. I happen to think it was one of his best movies. Very cute and creative.
Anyway, I have stuff and things to tell you but I need to get it all out first so I can figure out what I do and definitely do NOT feel like sharing. 
(you know I am kidding. I share it all.)
What is new in the world of you?
If you could ask me one question, and I was guaranteed to answer it, what would you ask me?
If you could be any trinket or knick knack, what would you be and where would you be placed for all the world to see?
Tags: adam sandler, bedtime stories, bejeweled, Mexico, sunshine cleaning, video games, world of warcraft, WoW
TMI Thursday: A Literal ROFL.
Apr 9, 2009 DUH, Out of Wicked's Mouth, Random, TMI Thursday's, Wicked Wisdoms
I should have a weekly blog that tells Military War Stories. Military Monday…. Hmmmm….
While I ponder that possibility, I will honor my commitment to TMI Thursday by posting one of my most favorite stories of all time.
Long ago… Like, 11 years ago… (God I am old) I was a ‘booter’ in the USN. For my very first deployment, we traveled down the coast to San Diego from Bremerton. If any of you are military brats or ex-military yourself… you already know that San Diego also means Tijuana, Mexico. At that time, the rule was that if you were too young to walk into a bar in San Diego, you were too young to go to TJ.
Did the Border Patrol check our ID’s? Uhhh… No. *wink*
So as soon as we heard Liberty Call, we were on the bus to TJ. What the Captain didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. Right!?
Little did we young’ns know, it was Ladies Night at all of the bars in TJ. So when us ladies ordered Long Island Iced Teas… they were automatically poured as doubles. I did not know this. I had 8. I remember the number because my partner in crime at the time kept counting out loud whenever I was passed another.
“OMG! Courtni! THAT IS YOUR 8th DRINK! EIGHT!”
“Bitch I know how many motherf*cking drinks I have had. Shit. Are you my momma!? I miss my mom.”
Not only were we involved in the double pounder LIIT’s, we also did the “Tequila-From-The-Bottle-Straight-Down-The-Throat-Limbo” These guys who worked there walked around offering these “straight shots” for $5 all night.
I didn’t participate in ANY of these shots. I promise!!!!! <— lying.
Anyway, there came a point in the night after dancing my cute little 19 year old ass off in a miniskirt where it was melt-down time.
*GASP*
I know, right!?
I am going to break this down exactly the way I remember it going down. Wannahearithearitgoes.
Queue the imagination to me, dialing my MOM from MEXICO at 2AM on a Thursday.
Mom: “Hello?” (groggy as fuck)
Me: “OhmomIloveyousomucchhhhhhh”
Mom: “Courtni!? Are you ok?”
Me: “MommmmIamwastedinMexicoomgIwannacomehomeeeeeeeeee”
Mom: “Are you actually calling me wasted at 3am on a Thursday right now?!”
Me: “Is that not okay?” (All of a sudden I felt and probably sounded sober)
Mom: “Go to bed.”
Me: “Okay.”
Click.
Me: “Damn. That bitch hung up on me. Biiiiitch.”
My ass (literally) sat down on the sidewalk (in downtown TJ… GROSS) and cried. Shut up.
Somehow, my Partner-in-Crime persuaded me into a cab. I don’t remember this conversation, I just remember being in the cab.
Me: “Stop touching me.” (she was rubbing my back)
PIC: “Sorry. I was just trying to make you feel better.”
Me: “It makes me want to puke.”
PIC: “My bad.”
1 minute later
Me: “STOP!”
PIC: “What!? I am not even touching you!”
Me: “Noooooo! Stop the cab! I am gonna …”
I opened the door to the cab, laid my head out the door and puked. The cab never stopped. And, all of the people who I was stationed with were walking back to the border… clowning on my situation. I am pretty sure they got a couple of “fuck you’s” in between pukes… but I don’t know. Mostly there was a shit ton of laughter in my general direction.
Normally, the story would be over here. It is not.
We get to where the ship was docked. Being that I was on a huge Aircraft Carrier, there was this long, steep stairwell from land to the Hangar Deck. The mission was to get my drunk, barely able to stand up ass up the stairs and past the Officer on Duty. All I needed to do was hold my ID and say “Permission to come aboard”
Sounds easy, right?!
Queue your imagination to a person on either side of me, holding me up. Then think about me, ID in hand, practicing “Permission to come aboard” all the way up the stairs.
“Puhmishon tah comaboard. No.”
“Missiontocomeaboardd. No.”
“PERmission to come aboard”
“PerMISSION to come ABOARD.”
“Permission TO come aboard”
So I get up there, stand in front of the Officer on Duty, and hold my ID up like I did every single day. He is looking at me. My friends are subtly trying to remind me why in the fuck I was standing there. Because I straight up forgot.
What did I do? I fell the fuck out. Laughing. Like, literally rolling around on the Hangar Deck laughing my drunk ass off. Do I need to remind you that I was also wearing a mini skirt? I showed my vag to a good percentage of men on this boat. (I haven’t worn panties for years.) I remember for several months after… I would get whispers. And I would think to myself… “Those guys saw my crochandmore!”
I do not remember any of this. It has all been retold to me by who? The Officer of the Day. Turns out, he was my BOSS. Riiiiight. So, when I tried to waltz in to work the next morning, hungover, smelling like a mixture of vomit and a walking Long Island Iced Tea as if nothing ever happened… I had another thing coming.
Boss: “Good Morning Seaman Kenyon. (shutthefuckupialreadyknowseamanisfunny) You have fun on liberty last night?”
Me: “Yes sir, but I think I got food poisoning.”
Boss: “Is that why you have vomit on the side of your face right now?”
(I literally woke up and threw on my uniform. No shower. No nothing.)
Me: “Uhhh….” (F*CK)
Boss: “Go clean yourself up and get to work. You owe me one. Remember that.”
Can I get a “FML”?!?!
Did this spark any TMI stories for you?
How about FML situations?
Happy TMI Thursday!!!
Tags: boss, Bremerton, Deployment, drunk dial, FML, Long Island Iced Tea, Mexico, Military, party, permission to come aboard, San Diego, Taxi, Tequila, Tijuana, TMI Thursday, USN
