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A pimple the size of Satan’s hoary ass.

Issue Date: Thursday, Apr. 01, 2004

Weekend Update… I know, it’s been several days since I got back. I just have too much crap in my brain that wants to get out. The weekend listed in bulleted points is not one such piece of crap that is struggling for freedom from my brain.

I am thinking more of hormone driven drivel, as I started my period from hell on Tuesday. This month’s womanly functions will now be known as the period from hell for the remainder of this entry. The explanation is forthcoming, hold yer damn horses.

I have, since last Wednesday, had two Imitrex shot-inducing migraines, that vomity feeling several times, bleary eyed afternoons with no energy, gotten blood (ew... yeah, I know) all over a new white shirt, a pimple the size of Satan’s hoary ass, not to mention it’s twin… right next to it in the triangle of death under my nose as well as a case of extreme exhaustion and the feeling that my uterus is physically trying to claw it’s way out of my body.

Oh, and my favorite is the sex-ay sporting of Quad-Boob today cause by a poorly fitted brassiere. You know, not you... the ladies… anyway, you know when you have two normal boobs, but because of water retention and whatnot you have overage in the boobage department? Yeah, that... and you get those two little Pop-N-Fresh™ boobs in the front? Yep, I have that. Mmmmm boy howdy.

I have burst into tears for no less than three retarded reasons, and… yeah, this is my favorite… I pooted in Half Price Books last night because I had a bottom burp that just wouldn’t be denied. It wasn’t more than a small “fwip” but I Wanted. To. Die.

You all want me. I can see it in your eyes.


More on my boobs later.


The weekend was fantastic. My husband seriously rocks. We left on time and without problems on Thursday evening. The flights were overbooked. Yeah, I tell ya, there’s nothing I love better than trying to eat my little dry roasted peanuts in the form of Tyrannosaurus Rex. My little short arms nestled up under my neck because I had no shoulder room to stretch them out. Bleating out a feeble “rawr” then eating one of the seven peanuts in the generous package.

We landed and were whisked away in a silvery chariot to our penthouse… or not. Actually we stayed the night at a pretty nice Hilton Garden Inn and woke up early the next morning.

Friday was such a riot. Mister let me pick the Disney Park we went to and I picked The Magic Kingdom. Ta-ta-ta-taaaahhhh! Raowr! We ate breakfast at Cracker Barrel (mmm greasy soul food) and headed off to see Disney. I haven’t been there since I was like 7 years old and the moment I stepped foot through the gates, I was seven years old again.

I was looking around, not watching where I was going, mouth hanging open to alleviate the need to look even slightly evolved. Thank goodness for Mister, he just patiently steered me to where we needed to be and out of the way of oncoming traffic.

We rode Space Mountain twice! We also saw the new Phil-Harmonic show with Donald. That was in 3D. So cool. And Buzz Lightyear, and the Carousel of Progress, and Pirates of the Caribbean and… and… and the Jungle Cruise! During the light parade thingy I took some forced shutter photos so hopefully they turn out all funky and surreal. We had the best time and acted like a high school couple, making out with smooches and too-long hugs in the lines for the rides, especially Space Mountain with it’s 3 miles of darkness.

That night we went over to the house of Mister’s best friend and new partner in job, Jeff. We stayed at their house that night and the next day Mrs. Jeff and I went to the spa.

Hea-Ven-Leee! Some pretentious fart named Seth was my masseuse and I just wanted to ask him to hush with the, “I have been able to save my muscles lo’ over these 12 long years due to muscle placement, habitual… blah blah blah Ginger.” But over all it was a wonderful massage with much bootie squishing and foot mushing. Lovely.

Then a woman named … uh… regardless a girl gave me a great manicure and an even more fabulous pedicure. Pretty!

That evening the five of us, Jeff’s family and the two of us, went to Disney Village to wander the shops and look at souvenirs. La Nouba was the order of business that evening with dinner scheduled for after the show at House Of Blues.

La Nouba.

La Nouba. I have no words to describe this orgasm for the eyes. Go see it. Don’t walk, run to the nearest plane for Orlando and go … GO see this show!

Three words… trampolines, aerobatics and tight pants. Uh, that’s four. Just GO!

Dinner at the House Of Blues was nice. The young son of Jeff was sleepy and generally cranky, poking Mister and I under the table with his lighted saber thingy.

Hey Mister… I’ll take “Swords for $500” Alex. Uhm, that’s S-Words for $500 Sean.

SABER!

Heh.

Um. Kay.

Yeah, so Sunday was a surprise visit to Universal Studios. That place rocked hard. I was so excited when I walked in to find the huge rides like “Dueling Dragons” and “The Hulk”. HULK SMASH! We did some kid stuff for young Jeff and then we went on the Jurassic Park ride. That was the BOMB! Big dinos, large noises and a 4 story drop. I was all but popping up and down like a dork waiting through some other stuff so we could go do the big stuff.

Outside Dueling Dragons they have the seats so you can try them out.

I lifted the seat restraint and sat down. On TOP OF THE ARM REST THINGIES. My ass alas, did not fit.

Outside of The Hulk they have the seats so you can try them out.

I lifted the seat restraint and sat down. Yeah, you know where this is going…On TOP OF THE ARM REST THINGIES. My ass alas, did not fit there either.

Denied by my ass.

The suckage was great.

But (butt HA!) we still had a great time. Walked about eleventy-four miles in three days, laughed a lot, talked a lot… we still had to come home.

I love Mister so much. He is the best friend anyone could ever pray for.

Thank you Mister. Thank you for being mine.


Ok, so the boobs. Do ya’ll remember when I went for my well woman physical about 6 weeks ago? No? Well you can read about it here. Dr. Goatee asked me to come back to see him because of the little jelly bean lump my right boobage. Yesterday was that day. Whee. He said he needed to re-squash my boobs. That’s the medical term of course. He wanted me to come back so he could see the results from 2 previous mammograms and give me another breast exam.

Boobs were squashed, discomfort was had and then he delivers this blow.

“Well, I’d like for you to have another mammogram and if the sonogram shows the need… I’d like to have the doctor at the women’s center aspirate the cysts… if that is what these [poke poke prod prod] bumps are.”

Aspirate. As is a frickin needle in my boobie.

I’m having a hard time with this.

Any experience with this out there?

Please give me a shout on the Extra Extra link below.

Oh and ya’ll… the notify list thingy is fixed. Sign up! Thanks.

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To understand this dear reward (above) at all, you must hie thee on and read gatsby’s grape ape entry and my comments.

And because of said comments he sent me my very own dream turtle in an email titled wee gift with these words attached, “my purple monkey is booked solid so i ordered you a tangerine turtle. hope he proves helpful.”

The Graphic Below Courtesy of Papernapkin.


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