Friday, December 24, 2010

Who You Callin A Ho?

Ho! Ho! Ho!

In betwixt all of the hustle and bustle of this holiday season, I just wanted to pop in for a sec to wish you all a very Merry Christmas!!

I've said it before and I'll say it again, folks. I am so grateful that you take time out of your busy schedules to stop by and read what I have to say. Because, without you? I would be talking out my ass. And that would just suck.

Anywho, before I go, I just wanted to show you this CUSTOM Christmas card that I sent to that bastard, Lou and his wife, Linda:



If anything suspicious happens to me? Please submit it as EVIDENCE.

I love you peeps more than George Clooney! (Um...not really...I'm just trying to make you feel good in case you bought me something awesome for Christmas. I know what side my bread is buttered on.)

Merry Christmas!

XOXO, Sally

Thursday, December 23, 2010

Spare Me The Fruitcake. My Septic System Can't Handle It.


THE FOLLOWING IS A PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT BROUGHT TO YOU BY THAT FUGGING, NASTY-ASS FRUITCAKE THAT YOUR GRANDMA LOVES (SERIOUSLY, PEOPLE! UNLESS YOU'RE EIGHTY, FRUITCAKE IS NOT A "CHRISTMAS PRESENT." IT'S A WEAPON OF MASS DESTRUCTION...).

THIS FACEBOOK STATUS (WHICH WAS POSTED THIS MORNING) IS THE CATALYST THAT STARTED IT ALL:

Teresa P....is really, really not going to be on Facebook for like 24 more hours. Seriously. I mean it. I have SO MUCH TO DO--like make a fruitcake (#$%^*&), send out Christmas cards, and um...I only logged on to get addresses, so shut up.

David D: First of all: Nobody wants your fruitcake, so cross that off your list. Second: The only people who are going to recieve your Christmas cards in time for Christmas are people who live in your town. So go take 3 minutes to say Merry Christmas to them in person (you don't have THAT many friends) and then get back on FB and quit stressing about it.

Sally Araujo Costa: The world must be coming to an end because, for once? I have to agree with Dave. Fruitcake is the equivalent of "colon blow." Gross. Once, my mother-in-law baked us a loaf and we used it as a doorstop at work. For reals.

Teresa P: But...But. I LIKE fruitcake & I already bought all the ingredients last week :( AND I have 4 boxes of really cute cards that I bought in OCT. I am sitting here in bed typing this in my sleep! I have to TRY TO QUIT FB FOR 24hrs!!! & YOU ARE NOT BEING SUPPORTIVE.

Sally Araujo Costa: Dude. We are being supportive in that we speak the truth. Fug the fruitcake. The people you give it to are going to smile at you nicely then regift it to their grannies. Grannies love that crap. So, if YOU love it, bake some for YOU and call it a day. As for the cards, TOMORROW is Christmas Eve. NOBODY is going to get them on time. Just send everybody on your list a nice email. Done. Pressure off. Ho, ho, ho.

David D: God help me...Teresa, Listen to Sally....uhhh...I'm gonna throw up :(

Teresa P: No. I want to argue about this more. I thought there was like a grace period for cards--I mean WHERE is it written that the damn things have to be RECEIVED by the 25th? I'm being dead serious - if you got a card from me next week would you reject it? Of course not! Would you judge me? Well DUH.

Teresa P: BTW, Sally - I need your address ♥

Elizabeth B: ‎...colon.blow...

Teresa P: And the people I was going to give my fruitcake to are looking forward to it! For REALS.

David D: What would be the point in a Christmas card that says "Merry Christmas" AFTER Christmas??

Teresa P: Nobody gets me :(

Elizabeth B: Just send 'em if you really want to. No one cares when they get them. And T, I need to introduce you to my friend, Jon's, mother. Now SHE does fruitcake. And I've actually had it and it's not bad (she's British and there must be some sort of secret ingredient that prevents colon blow).

Teresa P: I am pretty sure they say Happy Holidays. HOLIDAYS ARE THE DAYS OF HOLI--NOT EXACTLY ONE DAY.

Teresa P: Fruitcake is full of dried fruit and FIBER and it's good for you.

Sally Araujo Costa: Dave and I are agreeing! Baby Jesus! It's a Christmas miracle!

Teresa P: Sounds to me like some of you are a little backed up and that's why y'all are being so ANTI.

Sally Araujo Costa: T--I'll give you my address if you PROMISE not to send me some fruitcake.

Sally Araujo Costa: And Elizabeth? Christmas is a time to help your fellow man. Stop encouraging the fugging fruitcake.

Teresa P: Promise :) I'm only going to post pictures on FB.

Teresa P: Ok, people. I'm not coming on FB until I've completed my tasks! See you all next week ♥ Starting NOW !!! Ready set go. Here I goooooooo...

Sally Araujo Costa: How you gonna get my address if you're exiling yourself? Hmmmm.....

Sally Araujo Costa: I'm gonna miss her. God bless her little fruitcake loving heart.

David D: Poor confused soul...

Jennifer B: Are you all kidding me? She can't stay off FB. She WILL be back. Sally, thank you for you use of the word "fug", I'm going to have to use it...right away!

Sally Araujo Costa: Jennifer, I am such a positive influence. You're welcome :)

Tuesday, December 21, 2010

Holding It Together

Remember when my husband built that lame-ass SURVIVOR SHOWER in our basement (It's STILL THERE, PEOPLE!)? Yeah, well, APPARENTLY? He's not the only resourceful man in the world.

Last Friday, like a bazillion other people, I was out scrambling for some last minute Christmas gifts. As I was getting out of my car in the mall parking lot, I noticed this interesting car, which was apparently being held together by duct tape:



I went into the store, bought some crap, and returned to my car about fifteen minutes later.

When I came back out?

I almost crapped myself when I saw this:



DUDES! Another car being held together by DUCT TAPE!!! WHAT THE??

The lesson here, ladies?

Don't bust your crackers (or your wallet) looking for the ultimate Christmas for the special man in your life!

Buy him some freakin duct tape!

Apparently, that shit can move mountains (or at least keep your car's hood from falling the frig off)....

Monday, December 20, 2010

A Bra For A Boob

I got a comment from one of my readers (and fellow blogger) suggesting that I punish Lou for that whole lame-ass Walmart bra incident. She told me that I should take pictures of him wearing the cheap, fugly bra on his head AND THEN post said pictures on this here blog.

Being that my readers are brilliant, I took her advice. AND I went to see Lou at work. AND I told him that I was still pissed off. And I told him that the ONLY way I would forgive him, is if he did EXACTLY what my brilliant reader suggested.

Only one problem, y'all.

The bastard wasn't phased OR TRAUMATIZED in the very least! Damn it!

He's such a freakin ham.....





Are you thinking what I'm thinking?

Yeah...His wife must be sooooooo proud.

Friday, December 17, 2010

George Clooney RULES.

The lady who owns the business next door to ours came over to give us a WELCOME / GOOD LUCK gift. It's a fish, y'all....a Japanese Betta. My husband is so excited with it. I have no freakin idea why....

Hubby: WOW! This is so cool!

Me: *YAWN* It's a fish.

Hubby: It's not JUST a fish! It's a Japanese FIGHTING FISH!

Me: Who's he gonna fight with?

Hubby: Nobody! But, he has to be kept in a bowl ALL by himself! If you put TWO betta fish in the same bowl, they will EAT EACH OTHER!

Me: Great. So what you're telling me is that our neighbor gave us a CANNIBAL fish. That's lame.

Hubby: It's cool!

Me: Whatever......And just so you know? I'm NEVER cleaning poopy fish water. Gross.

Hubby: That's fine.

Me: What are you going to name him?

Hubby: What do you think I should name him?

Me: George Clooney.

Hubby: I'm NOT naming him GEORGE CLOONEY.

Me: How about John F. Kennedy, Jr.?

Hubby: Sal?

Me: What?

Hubby: Please stop talking.

Me: FINE...WHATEVER. But remember something! Without a cool name, HE'S JUST SUSHI.*


*He will NEVER get the last word in. Just sayin...

Tuesday, December 14, 2010

The BIG Hooter Edition

I'm baaaaack! And if you know what's good for you, you'll pretend that YOU even KNEW that I was MIA! Thank.You.Very.Much. In my own little convoluted mind, I'd like to think that I was missed. Humor me, peeps.

So, where to begin...

Ooooh. I know! Let me tell you all about the latest chapter in the saga I like to call: HOW LOU PISSED ME RIGHT THE FRICK OFF...THE HOOTER EDITION

Last week, Lou had his company Christmas party (he owns a business right near ours) at a local restaurant and he invited me and Hubs. Originally, we weren't really sure that we even wanted to go, but Lou basically forced us at knife point, so we gave in because we weren't into celebrating the upcoming holidays with punctured lungs.

Okay. So picture this....

There I am at Lou's party having the best time. I ate a GREAT meal. I had ONE glass of wine (and diet soda the rest of the night). And I DANCED AND LAUGHED MY ASS OFF with some super fun people.

At the end of the night, when Hubs and I were getting ready to leave, this guy comes up to me and says, "Sally? I don't mean to be inappropriate..but, can you tell my wife WHERE YOU BUY YOUR BRAS? You have great lift."

Um. Okay.

So, I picked my chin off of the floor, put my eyeballs back in my head and said, "Um. Nordstrom. They have a bra fitter there."

All of a sudden, I look over at Lou, WHO MAY HAVE HAD A TAD BIT TOO MUCH WINE, and he is laughing hysterically! He was all, "THAT'S SO FUNNY! THEY WANT TO KNOW WHERE YOU BUY YOUR UNDERWEAR! BAHAHAHAHAHA!"

Bite me, Lou.

So, I was like WHATEVER because I know what it's like to have big boobs and I know that sometimes it takes a village to lift them up to where they should be. So, I was totally cool with people admiring my hooters.

Now, WHAT HAPPENED NEXT IS WHY I WANT TO PUNCH LOU IN THE HEAD.

The afformentioned Christmas party was on Friday.

On the following Monday, I was at work minding my own frickin business, when my UPS man came in and dropped off a package for me. It was a purple bra (you'll see it in tomorrow's blog post) and it was in this fancy, schmancy box:



And it came with a note that said:

Hi Sally,
Many thanks for your input on Friday night. I know I should have been at your table from the beginning of the evening...We lucked out! Took your advice and went to Nordstrom and they were fantastic! Thanks for all your help. Enclosed is a little something from me to you. Hope you like it!!!

Your new blog friend, S



Dudes! I was soooo forklempt! And, I'm not even Jewish! I couldn't even believe that this girl, who I barely knew, would go to Nordstom and buy me a bra BECAUSE HELLO? You practically have to take out a home equity loan to buy ANYTHING at Nordstrom, right?!

So, right away, I went on Facebook and posted this message:

Sally Araujo Costa: Friday night, at a holiday party, a guy asked me, "Can you tell my wife where you buy your bras? You have nice lift!" Um, ok. So, I told her to go to Nordstrom because they have a bra fitter there. TODAY? I got an unexpected present...a brandy new purple Nordstrom bra delivered to me at work from a grateful woman with... uplifted hooters. So cool! MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ME AND MY BOOBAGE!

And then? I called that son-of-a-b*tch, LOU.

And I told him all about the bra...And wasn't that so nice of her? And can you even believe it? And yadda, yadda, yadda....

And he was all like, "Wow. That was nice of her. Was it the right size?" *RED FLAG #1* And I responded, "Well, NO. It's friggin humongous and I can probably wrap it around my body three times and wear the cups as hats, BUT THAT'S NOT THE POINT. The gesture was nice and I'll return it and get my real size and yay freakin me because I get an expensive mutha fuggin bra for FREE! WHOO HOO!"

And the whole frickin time, Lou's quietly listening to me *RED FLAG #2* intently as I rambled on and freakin on about the bra and the nice gesture.

Finally we hung up and a few minutes went by. Suddenly, my cell phone rang and when I answered it, Lou's wife, Linda, was on the other end LAUGHING HER ASS OFF.

WTF?

People? GET THIS.

Linda confessed to me that Lou sent me that bra as a joke AND HE BOUGHT THE EFFIN THING AT WALMART FOR $7.00. AND? IT WAS A SIZE 47HHH! AND? He was going to LET ME take it back to NORDSTROM to try to exchange it. FUGGIN BASTARD.

I WANTED TO CHOKE HIM.

So, instead? I went back on Facebook and posted this message:

Sally Araujo Costa: Dear FB friends, I've been scammed! The bra was sent to me by LOU PESTANA pretending to be that nice girl from the party! AND THAT CHEAP SON-OF-A-BITCH bought it at WALMART! Bastard! I want you all to email him at llpestana@aol.com and tell him what an evil troll he is! BOOBIES UNITE!

And to make matters worse?

That Facebook thread had something like FIFTY responses!

AND people were all like, "LOU IS BRILLIANT! LOU FOR PRESIDENT!"

Seriously, you Facebook asshats?! FREAKIN SERIOUSLY?!

Y'all? I'm warning you! And I think I can count on you. I need some sympathy here. Or else....

(*Photo borrowed from thebloggess.com)

Monday, December 6, 2010

Partners In Crime


Yesterday, Lou and I made a deal.

I know what you're thinking.

Making a deal with Lou is like making a deal with the Devil.

And usually? You'd be correct.

But this time, there's something in it for me. So, I'm going for it.

Here's the deal...

Lou and I are BIG TIME foodies. And more times than I care to admit, we are partners in crime (Um...like yesterday, when we were dipping Rice Krispy treats into chocolate fondue!).

Our collective behaviors are negatively impacting the SIZE OF MY ASS and the SIZE OF HIS BELLY.

And we need to do something about it. PRONTO.

To kick start our quest, Lou proposed that maybe WE, along with our spouses (Don't get any shady ideas, you sick bastards!) should go on a trip to Aruba in July.

NOW GET THIS, DUDES.

This impending trip?

Yeah, it will serve as my motivation to fit into a bikini.

Yeah. You heard me.

I SAID A BIKINI.

I KNOW! RIGHT? WHAT THE HELL HAVE I BEEN SMOKING?!

Also, said trip, will also serve---GOD HELP US ALL---as Lou's motivation to fit into a Speedo (Hold on while I throw up a little in my mouth for a second...), without having the beach goers of Aruba threaten to harpoon his ass.

So, here's the deal.

On January 2, 2011, Lou and I are going to become cliches. We're going on a lifestyle change (I HATE the word "diet"!). We're going to begin eating better. We're going to exercise. AND? We're going to motivate each other.

BUT? We've made some provisions...just in case.

For instance, LET'S JUST SAY that during our weight loss quest, we are SUDDENLY captured by aliens and are forced to consume nothing but chocolate cake, ice cream, pasta, and red wine---for six months. And instead of losing weight? WE GAIN MORE.

Yeah, well...

We've decided that we'll STILL go to Aruba, anyway.

However, in lieu of bikinis and Speedos?

We'll be the TWO chunky-butts parasailing in our Snuggies, y'all.

Thursday, December 2, 2010

Hey, I Didn't Pick Em'

Yesterday's telephone conversation with my friend, Rosemary:

Rosemary: Hi Honey! How are you?

Me: I'm great! How are you?

Rosemary: Fine. I was just calling to find out how your sister's doing.

Me: She's doing much better. She's been fitted for a back brace and MIGHT NOT need surgery after all. Fingers crossed!

Rosemary: Now, is THIS the sister that used to BLOW IN YOUR EYES to make you to go to sleep at night?

Me: No. THIS is the sister who cut all of my Barbie's hair off and made her look like Billy Idol.

Rosemary: Hmmmm...You have interesting sisters.

Me: Yeah. And I never told you about the one who used to eat dirt.

Rosemary: OH, DEAR GOD.