Friday, July 30, 2010

Pick Me A Winner!

****How I Celebrated My Birthday****

If you read yesterday's post, you already know that Hubby and I went out for dinner with our friends, Lou and Linda. Here's a recap...

We got to L & L's house after work at about 5:30. They insisted that we hang out there for a little while so they could give me my "birthday presents."

Here's what they gave me...starting with this card, which pretty much SET THE TONE for the rest of the evening:

Front of Card:

Inside of Card:


When Lou and Linda gave me this card, Lou was all, "I just want you to know that I HAD NOTHING TO DO WITH THAT CARD!"

Yeah right. Dude!

Your wife is like the sweetest person EVER. Do you honestly expect me to believe that shit? Way to throw your wife under the bus, Bozo.

Moving on...

Then L & L gave me these plaques for my new office, which I'll be moving into in about 6 weeks...

Gee...I wonder who picked THESE out, Lou?

Finally, after opening up these shit gifts, LINDA---THE NICE ONE, gave me a very lovely charm for my Pandora bracelet, a gift certificate to my favorite store, and a bottle of Prosecco.

Lou tried to take credit for the "nice" presents. But, we all know better. Don't we?

Nice try, Trophy Head.

The second phase of our night, was dinner at a lovely restaurant in downtown Providence, called Aspire. The place was awesome and the food was delicious!

Check it out:

The Restaurant:

Our Adorable Waitress, Lindsey (Ask for her if you go there! She was so sweet and tolerant of the Perv in her midst!):

Here we are sipping cocktails al fresco (Dear Feds, If anything happens to me, THE BALD GUY with the knife did it!):

Me: Birthday Cake TAKE 4 (Seriously):

Hubby, Indulging:

Across from the courtyard where we had dinner, there was this adorable little public park. And in the park, there was this HUGE granite ball, slowly spinning around in a water fountain. Hubby was obsessed with it so we decided to take some pictures of ME behind it.

Only UNO problemo.

While I was taking my position behind the fountain, this fat guy moseyed on in behind me, sat down on a park bench, and took off his shirt. LOVELY. And THAT'S not the worst of it. Check it out...

Me. And The FAT GUY...

But, WAIT! There's more!

Me. And The Fat Guy...Scratching His Ass...

Me. And The Fat Guy...Flexing His Pectorals...

Me. And The Fat Guy...Digging For Clams (Excuse me, while I THROW UP now!)...

All in all, I had a great birthday (except for the nose picker incident). I'd like to thank my Hubby, my family, Lou and Linda, and everybody who emailed/texted/commented here/and sent me Facebook messages yesterday--wishing me a Happy Birthday. You guys are sooo AWESOME, it hurts!!

OH CRAP! WAIT A MINUTE! I almost forgot!

I have ONE MORE photo for you!

Last night, after indulging in SEVERAL alcoholic beverages...Lou...UM...

Well...He almost got picked up by a tranny...

I wonder why.


Thursday, July 29, 2010

If You're Not Wearing Your Glasses, I Don't Look A Day Over 25!

Today is my 41st birthday. And I'm not even feeling vulgar about it!

I know, I know! I've come a long way since last year, when on my 40Th birthday, I wanted to stab people (my sisters).

Thus far, these are the highlights of my day...

*My Husband bought me this chocolate birthday cake:

I had a GENEROUS portion of it for breakfast (AKA...A BIG ASS PIECE). It was yummy. Don't tell my Weight Watcher's leader cuz she'll be all, "Sally, you can have anything you want to eat moderation! Just use your daily points/extra points/exercise points to count it!"

That's not happenin' today, Sister. So, put a friggin sock in it OR I'll whip out my taser (Okay. Maybe I'm still SLIGHTLY vulgar).

*While I was secretly hoping to get a birthday phone call, present, or card from the REAL George Clooney, neither of these things actually happened. He's probably busy entertaining some naturally skinny, gold digging whore at his Italian villa. Whatever, George. Don't come crying to me when she gives you genital warts.

However, all has not been lost. I ACTUALLY did get a card from somebody famous. Don't be hatin' on me, ladies. But, here it is...

Yeah, that's right! The GEICO Gecko! AND he wants to save me money on my car insurance, too. Jealous, b*tches? Yeah...I thought so.

Well, I'm heading out to meet my Mother (AKA...Sophia Petrillo) and my sister for lunch. My MOTHER insists on seeing me on my birthday. Apparently, she's entitled to monopolize some of my time just because she shot me out of her HOO-HA.

Whatever...just as long as she and BIG SISTER know that I'm not paying.

And tonight? Hubs and I are heading out for dinner with our buds---Lou (Yes. CRAZY LOU) and Linda. Stay tuned tomorrow for an update on what WRETCHED gifts they have in store for me.

Peace out, Dudes!!!

Wednesday, July 28, 2010

What The Hell? Why Not Mother Theresa???

Remember the post that I wrote about Demon Dave, my Facebook friend---who photoshopped my face onto Charles Manson's head (Click here for a refresher)?

Yeah, well...Even though I still think that Dave is the Devil's Spawn, I do believe that he IS a rather talented artist (Don't tell him I said so. I'll never live that shit down).

And recently, he did it again.

But this time, instead of turning me into Manson, he turned me into the creepy clown from Stephen King's IT.

Check it out:

Stephen King's Creepy Clown...

Plus Sally...


Hmmm....I'm sensing an evil pattern here. First, I was morphed into Charles Manson. Then, I was morphed into the scary IT clown.

I don't understand THIS because I am sooooo friggin sweet! And sooooo freakin nice!


DON'T ANSWER THAT. Because, I swear! If you answer THAT question the wrong way, I WILL BEAT YOUR FRIGGIN ASS. Seriously.

Oh, shit...

Never mind. I get it now.

Ho, hum.

Monday, July 26, 2010

What's Grosser Than A Meat Log?

Whoo hoo! This is my birthday week!


And every year, during my birthday week, Hubby and I spend seven days doing fun stuff (after work and on weekends). He usually let's me choose what I want to do and kind of rolls with the punches.

So, yesterday, I told him that I wanted to try a new restaurant called The Duck & Bunny. It's this cool little place in Providence, RI that serves crepes for breakfast, lunch, dinner, and dessert. HOLY CREPE!

I love crepes. They are so dainty and light and depending on what you put in them, they can be a fairly healthy meal choice.

Because we went there for dinner, I chose to fill my crepe with spinach, goat cheese (light on the cheese, please), and sun dried tomatoes. YUM. And I washed it down with some freshly brewed ice tea.

The Hubster, on the other hand, LIT UP when he saw HIS MENU CHOICE. Here's what he ordered (and ate every morsel of). Brace yourselves:

No, my friends. You are not seeing things.

The Hubster did indeed ingest FOUR FULL FAT hot dogs, wrapped in crepes, topped with coney island sauce, mustard, and onions...And he washed this abomination down with a glass of red wine. How effin gross is THAT?

Anywho, regardless of my attempts not to puke at the dinner table, Hubby RAVED about his meal! He was all, "Whoever invented this combination IS A GENIUS!"

Good Lord.

Leave it to the man that I married to turn the daintiest food EVER into a disgusting PIG FEST. Blech....

Friday, July 23, 2010


Happy Friday, Peeps!

I'm at work right now, busting my crackers so I can blow out of this clambake early. For me, that means getting the frig out of here by 4 o'clock. Please God, please God, please God...

So, in lieu of a long blog post, I only have a few moments to tell you about a mystery that I discovered this morning...

A few weeks ago, I bought some nice, super fluffy bath towels. I like all of my towels to be the same, so everyone that I purchased was SNOW WHITE.

This morning, I went into the laundry room to get something and I noticed that a few of my SUPER FLUFFY SNOW WHITE TOWELS were now light pink! WHAT THE?!

Now, I know that I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE for this atrocity. And I only live with ONE OTHER PERSON who's not fessing up.

Hmmm...Apparently, Casa Costa comes complete with its very own laundry fairy.

For better or for worse.
For better or for worse.
For better or for worse.

Don't mind me. I'm just trying to remind myself....

Thursday, July 22, 2010

What's Next? A Mullet?

Who? Me & Hubs
What? A conversation.
When? Yesterday @ 6:30PM
Where? A local pizza joint.
Why? Because HE STARTED IT.

The Scene: Sally (Yeah. That's me.) was enjoying her dinner, when she noticed that her husband kept staring at the wall above her head. Finally, she said:

Sally: What are you looking at?

Hubs: A work of art! Turn around and look at that thing!

So, she turned around, saw this, and made her famous WTF? face....

Hubs: *excitedly* Do you know what that is?

Sally: Yep.

Hubs: YOU DO?!

Sally: Yep. It's a FUGGIN UGLY clock.

Hubs: WHAT?!

Sally: I take that back. Actually, it's the FUGLIEST clock I have ever seen.

Hubs: No it's not! THAT is a wooden replica of a Harley Davidson blockhead motor!

Sally: Big whoop.

Hubs: Do you know how much work went into making that?!

Sally: Big whoop squared.

Hubs: Sal! Seriously! That is amazing craftsmanship! I can't even imagine how many hours it took to make that!


Hubs: OH MY GOD! It's for sale!

Sally: *oozing sarcasm* Thank you, Jesus! It's our lucky day!

Hubs: I'm going to climb up on a chair and read the price tag.

So, he did....


Hubs: *pondering* I don't know...I guess...maybe...someone who really loves Harleys?

Sally: Yeah. Either that, or maybe someone who takes HIS half of a divorce settlement and buys HIS newly homeless ass a double wide trailer in which to hang it in.

Hubs: *sigh*

Wednesday, July 21, 2010

It's All Fun And Games...Until I Look Like Olive Oyl (With Big Boobs)

I'm baaaaack!

You know what that means!

Yesterday, I DID NOT end up on the nightly news, maim anyone, or get arrested after my WW weigh-in. No sirree, Bob.

In fact, I lost three pounds...which isn't epic. But, it was just enough poundage to keep me from going all "Ballistic Portuguese Ninja" on everyone in the WW meeting room. Lucky b*tches.

So, yesterday, while I was sitting in my WW meeting, I was flipping through the latest issue of a weight loss magazine and something caught my eye that really pissed me off.

It's something I've seen a MILLION times before.

Heck! It's something you've seen A MILLION times before.

But, yesterday? It just really rubbed me the wrong way.

Let me splain...

You know how when you're reading an inspiring weight loss story, you see the before and after pictures of a person who has lost a crap load (a technical term) of weight? And in the AFTER picture, said person looks so happy and accomplished? And then, in itty bitty print, right next to that AFTER picture, you see this message: *Results Not Typical

Yeah, well that really gets my goat (OK. Really. What person under the age of 80 still says this?)!

I mean...Talk about sending people---who are struggling with their weight---a SHITTY message.

It's like they're saying: YES! You can lose weight if you eat healthy! And, YES! You can lose weight if you exercise! And, YES! You can keep the weight off...for awhile! But, because THESE EFFIN RESULTS ARE NOT TYPICAL, no matter what you do, how hard you do it, or how long you do it for, you're fighting an uphill battle and YOU ARE DESTINED TO BE A FAT ASS FOREVER.

Clearly, these freakin negative bastards have never heard about power in numbers (We support each other, Dudes!), the power of positive thinking, or the power of intention.

But, we'll show them! Those douchebiscuits...

***The spellcheck feature on my blog just told me that I spelled douchebiscuits wrong. WTF? I just made it up! Apparently, the SpellCheckers don't know who the Hell they're fuggin with.***

Tuesday, July 20, 2010

A Correlation Between Losing Weight AND Violent Behavior?

It's 8 o'clock in the morning. I'm already at work. And I'm getting ready.

Ready for what, you're wondering?

I'm getting ready to go to my Weight Watchers meeting / weigh-in.

And let me just tell you this....

I have been a really good girl. I have begrudgingly dragged my ass out of bed WAY TOO EARLY on these HOT freakin mornings to exercise (It sucks. I hate it!). I've made excellent food choices. And I've been following "the rules."


Now, back to our regularly scheduled blog post...

Yeah. Okay. So, like I was saying...I'm leaving now for Weight Watchers now and let me just say this:

If that muthafuggin scale does not produce a good number for me? You'd better watch the news tonight, Dudes. Cuz y'all are gonna hear about the WORLD'S FIRST PORTUGUESE NINJA who went ballistic at a local WW center and started maiming people with 2-point snack bars. Fo shizzle.

Monday, July 19, 2010

Friends In REALLY High Places

It's been awhile. But I've got another "Sophia Petrillo" story for you.

For those of you who aren't sure who I'm talking about, I'm talking about my MOTHER. She is the VERY STYLISH, seventy-nine year old, Portuguese version of Sophia Petrillo AND she has NO MOUTH FILTER.

Every Saturday, I take her out for lunch, to do errands, and then to church.

And every Saturday at the end of our day together, I take her home---barely stopping the moving vehicle before pushing her out. Then, I go home---where I sit in silent meditation to avoid self medicating with cake and/or alcohol.

So last Saturday, we were at church. And in the middle of Mass, my Mother leans over to me and whispers:

Sophia: Hey!

Me: (leaning in closer to her) What?

Sophia: (whispering) IN TWO WEEKS?

Me: (whispering) Yeah?


So, I lean in even CLOSER because obviously THIS MUST BE REALLY FREAKIN IMPORTANT, right?

Me: What, Ma? What's in two weeks?

And she says...



And she giggled her evil little ass off!

So I got pissed. And I whispered, "That's not funny, Ma. Not funny at all."

And she sat there---mocking me...IN CHURCH, batting her eyelashes and nodding as if to say OH YES IT IS!

I shook my head disapprovingly and gave her the BEHAVE YOURSELF LOOK. Then, I crossed my arms and turned my attention back to the Mass.

Dudes. You are not even going to believe what happened next. Seriously.

About ten seconds passed and all of a sudden, Sophia started to clear her throat like she had a tickle in it.


She started to cough!


She started choking!

And I'm all like WHAT THE CRAP IS GOING ON HERE, right? So I look at her and she's all red and shit and is practically hacking up a lung! And I just kept staring at her like Get a grip, Old Woman! This is embarrassing!

Finally, she popped a cough drop in her mouth and after a few seconds, she calmed right down. But, her eyes were all buggy and she had a frantic look in her eye as if to say, What the hell just happened?

So, I waited a few seconds.

Then, I leaned in close to her and whispered...

"See what happens when you mess with me in front of Jesus?!"

And she responded the way she sometimes does.

She stuck her tongue out at me.

Lucky for her...THAT TIME?

Jesus looked the other way.

Friday, July 16, 2010

Auntie Dearest

My nephew, Jon, came to visit me at work last week. He's nine and is very funny, really smart, and extremely inquisitive (GOOD LORD does he ask A LOT of questions!).

On the day that he came, he was lingering around in my office, looking for something to do, when suddenly---Auntie Sally got a brilliant idea. Uh-oh.

I had this fluorescent green highlighter in my hand that JUST HAPPENED to match his shirt, so I said, "Hey Jon! My marker matches your shirt! If you let me draw a tattoo on your arm with it, I'll take your picture and put it on the Internet!"

Immediately, he replied, "Cool!"

He pulled a chair over next to mine and I began writing on his arm.

All of a sudden, he asked, "Um. Auntie?"

Me: What, Jon?

Jon: You're not going to make me look like a dork, are you?

Me: Me? NOOOOOOO! Of course not! Why would you think that? *hehehehe*

Finally, I finished his "tattoo." And I took these two pictures of him BEFORE I let him read what I wrote:

THEN, he looked in the mirror.

And he started yelling, "NO WAY! YOU CAN'T PUT THAT ON THE INTERNET!"

So, I begged and I pleaded and we came to an agreement.

Jon decided that he would pose for ONE more picture, which would showcase his tattoo, but conceal his identity. You know...Cuz he doesn't want to look like a dork.

So, here it is:

Um...Do me a favor, people. Please disregard the first two photos of Jon. He loves his Auntie Sally, but is not real cool with the entire Internet knowing that.


Apparently, you're never too young for me to screw with you.

Thursday, July 15, 2010

Hooray for Delta Sky Miles!

My husband is awesome...most of the time.

However, yesterday? Um. I guess you could say that he was a little bit shaky.

Here's the deal...

Yesterday morning, I was going through the usual steps that I take everyday to tame my big and unruly Portuguese hair. I took the towel off my wet head and proceeded to brush through my wet hair to remove any tangles. Please note that I was not looking in the mirror at this point.

All of a sudden, I turned around to look in the mirror and I let out a gasp!

Dudes! I had sh*tloads of white lint all over my freakin head!

So I yelled, "WTF?!"

Which prompted Hubby to respond from the other room, "What's the matter?"

Me: My hair is covered in white FUGGIN lint! I think there's something wrong with our new towels!

Hubby: *silence*

Me: Did you hear me?

Hubby: Yeah. Um. I don't think it's the towels.

Me: It has to be! Maybe we need to wash and dry the towels a few more times! Oh, WTF?! Now I have to pick this friggin lint out of my wet hair! Son-of-a-b*tch!

That's when Hubs came into the bathroom to splain himself and help me pick the white crap out of my hair.

Hubby: Sal, it's not the towel. It's my fault.

Me: Excuse me? How is it your fault?

Hubby: Um. You know your favorite brush?

Me: Yeah?

Hubby: Yesterday...

Me: Yeah?

Hubby: I used it to brush the fringe on the carpet in the dining room. I guess I forgot to clean the lint off of it when I was done. Hehehe...

Yeah. He "hehehe'd" me.

Apparently, he found the vision of me---standing barlicky bare-assed, dripping wet, with white lint all up in my hair---kind of humorous.

I looked at him and said, "Not.Funny.Dude."

He replied, "Um. Yeah. It kinda is."

Really? Well, alrighty then! We'll see about that, Assclown.

So, last night? When Hubby got home from work, I had a surprise for him.

When he walked in the door, instead of seeing this (See the muthafuggin fringe?):

He saw this:

That's right, Sucka. Don't push my buttons.

I have a credit card.

And I'm not afraid to use it.

Blog Addendum: If any of y'all want my ex-fringy carpet, it's yours! FYI? It's an 8x10 rug---perfect size for rolling up and disposing of your dead husband's body in. Just sayin :)

Monday, July 12, 2010

That's What Friends Are For....

Happy Monday, Peeps!

I'd like to thank everybody for all of the kind words/comments/emails that I received after my health scare last week. You guys so rock! Seriously!

And I also want to tell you about a phone call that I received in response to my last post.

It was Friday night--about 7-ish--when my cell phone rang. Apparently, my friend--Heather--had read my blog, was really upset about it, and wanted some confirmation from me that I was alright.

When I didn't answer my phone (I was in a restaurant and had shut it off), she left this message (while crying and being just a TAD bit hysterical):

"Oh my God! I am so upset! You need to call me RIGHT NOW before I break out in hives! *pause, sniffle, sniffle* YOU BETTER NOT HAVE CANCER, YOU WHORE!"



Friday, July 9, 2010

Hives And Snot....Sexy, I'm Not.

Happy Friday, my friends!

I apologize for being MIA for most of this week. But, I was dealing with some life drama that really came out of nowhere and bit me in the ass.

Here's the rundown...

Last Friday, I went for a know...because I'm FORTY and that's what forty year-olds do for shits and giggles (Colonoscopy comes at 50! YEE-HA!).

This Tuesday morning, I had a message on my answering machine from the mammography office telling me to call them as soon as possible. Of course, I didn't get their message until 7:00PM when I got home from work, and their office was already closed, so being a drama queen---I basically spent my entire night analyzing and stressing about that message. AND.I.DIDN'T.SLEEP.A.LICK.

The next morning, I called the office at 9:00AM and asked to speak to the woman who left me the message. She came on the phone and told me that I needed to have a more diagnostic mammogram because of "something" that the radiologist saw on my left side. Then she said, "These diagnostic images have to be done at the hospital. Can you come in today at 1 o'clock?" By that point, I was pretty much crying myself into a frenzy. I answered, "Yes." Then, I went and told my husband about it and he said, "OK. Don't panic. Everything is going to be fine. You're going to be fine. We'll work until 12 o'clock. Then, we'll go to the hospital together."

Now, you would think that a woman of my stature (Shut up and play along!) would be able to hold her shit together, right?


I bawled my freakin head off all morning. I was a vision in snot. Seriously.

By the time we actually got to the hospital, I was a little calmer. Hubs was making small talk to keep me from blowing a cork and I was feeling like I could handle whatever was coming my way (Like I had a choice???).

Suddenly, as we waited for the tech to come and get me for my testing, I started losing it again. I looked at my husband and said:

Paul! I'm so nervous! Quick! Tell me a something that'll keep me from crying.

Hubby: OK. Um...So, I was thinking that it would be cool if we tried to be vegetarians for a day!

Me: **sniffle, heave, sniffle** Where the frick did that come from? **sniffle, heave, sniffle**

Hubby: *shrugging*

Me: Um...That's kind of a weird thing to say. But, okay. I'm game. When do we start?

Hubby: Today! Tonight I'm going to take you to that vegetarian restaurant in Providence that you've always wanted to try. It'll be an adventure!

Me: Okay. If you say so. **sniffle, sniffle**

Just then, the very nice mammography tech came to get me. Hubby squeezed my hand and gave me a kiss and said, "You're going to be fine."


As I followed the tech into the exam room, I continued to cry and drip watery snot all over myself. The booby squeezing lady told me not to worry. In response, I blubbered, "I'm sorry. But, I'm really nervous. Just ignore me and do what you need to do."

So she did.

Two mammograms and 45 minutes later, I was told that I have microcalcifications in my left breast. Apparently, they are nothing to worry about right now. But, I'll have to go back in a few months to monitor them for changes in appearance.

And so my friends, that's where I've been...

FYI? I worked myself up SO BADLY on Tuesday, that I broke out in hives...which I still have.

I'm so sexy right now, I can't even stand it.

Oh, yeah! And one more thing!

Tuesday night, after such a traumatic day, my husband and I made good on our deal and became vegetarians....for exactly one hour.

We went to a vegan restaurant for dinner to experiment with our new lifestyle and we ate tempeh and tofu and lentils! And?


That's when we decided that while we admire people who are vegans/vegetarians, WE WOULD NEVER BE EITHER.

Because to us?

The freedom to suck on a barbecued rib/pork chop/chicken leg, is one of the things that kinda makes life worth living.


Have a great weekend y'all!

Muchos smooches!


Tuesday, July 6, 2010

Tape An "L" To My Forehead

OK. So, here's the rundown.

This morning, after be gimpy for the last five weeks (damn broken toes), I went to the local track and walked and jogged for three miles. And let me just say: OH.MY.FRIGGIN.HELL.

Dudes! You should have seen me huffing and puffing like Fatty Freakin McGee. Honestly, if I had balls, I'd a sweat em' right the hell off and they'd still be sitting in the track parking lot, roasting in the hot sun. Holy sh*t! Am I out of shape?!

And you know what really bummed me out?

I wasn't the only one at the track at 6:00AM in the bloody morning.

No sirree!

It was me AND an entire slew of senior citizens on steroids! Seriously, people! I had a gah-damn frick of a time trying to keep up with them! They were zipping right past me like I was jogging in reverse. Damn geriatric showoffs.

Anywho, after busting my crackers for three miles, almost puking on my running shoes, and all but praying for Jesus to kill me right there on that stupid track---I went home.

Then, after drinking a bucket load of water, showering, and having breakfast---GUESS WHAT I DID? GUESS! GUESS! You're never going to guess!

I drove my lame ass BACK TO WEIGHT WATCHERS...again. Because apparently, in my ridiculous mind, my broken toes = a vacation from healthy eating.

I'm such a tool.

And so...

Like sands through the hourglass, these are the days of my thighs.

And the pursuit of a smaller ass continues...

Friday, July 2, 2010

He's Creepy And He's Kooky...Mysterious And Spooky!

Happy Friday, Peeps!

I'm CRAZY busy at work right now, getting ready for my long holiday weekend. Whoo hoo!

But I wanted to take a quick minute to wish you all a very happy July 4Th! The next few days are going to be sweltering here...and I am so excited because I LOVE THE HEAT! Too bad I won't be hitting the beach...mainly because I look too much like this:

And not enough like this:

Chocolate is the Devil. Just sayin...

Anywho, if you're a "local" and you are going to the beach this weekend, do yourself a favor and BEWARE OF LOU!

Apparently, he's been seen there, wreaking havoc in the sand---wearing nothing more than a banana hammock.

Here's an actual photo of a recent sighting (with his brother, Uncle Fester):


I know. I am evil.

Let me remind y'all again that PAYBACK IS A B*TCH!

Have a great weekend everybody!

God Bless America!!

Thursday, July 1, 2010

My Heart Belongs To Grover

True story...

The day before yesterday, I posted this as my Facebook status:

Sally Araujo Costa: Went out for Italian food. Didn't know it was kid's night at the restaurant. Took a picture with Elmo and whispered, "Elmo? I don't know if you're a chick or a dude, but if you cop a feel, I'M GONNA PUNCH YOU in front of all of these kids."

What gall!

I ACTUALLY THREATENED to beat furry little Elmo (Actually, he was like 6 feet tall!) in a room FULL of screaming preschoolers who were just as excited to see him as I would be to see George Clooney.

Can you imagine?

PICTURE IT: Elmo's got his hand around my waist and he's squeezing me a "little harder" than I think is appropriate. I can hear his heavy breathing through his furry red suit. Suddenly, his hand slips from my waist and rubs across my ass. And I? GO BALLISTIC! I put him in a headlock and punch him repeatedly in the face and the nads! And all of the preschoolers in the room start crying and whipping their chicken nuggets and macaroni and cheese at my head in an effort to save that furry red perv! And their parents collectively call the cops from their iPhones to report the sick b*tch who's beating Elmo's ass and who will be the cause of their children's recurrent nightmares!


It could have been a disaster!

But thankfully, that's not how it played.

Elmo was cool...a complete gentleman, really.

Lucky for him, Muthafugga.