Friday, May 27, 2011

Obviously, Schwartzenegger Doesn't Own A Pair

What would you say if I told you that I have discovered the most ultimate, non-invasive method of birth control EVER? And? It's 100% effective, has no side effects, and is totally cost effective because you can reuse it OVER and OVER and OVER again!

Intriguing, right? I know!

Well, wait no longer, people!

Allow me to present....*DRUM ROLL PLEASE*

Pointdexter Birth Control Glasses...effectively modeled Hubby!

Sex-ay! Right?!


That's the point. 


Thursday, May 26, 2011

Eat Less. Move More. The End.

A couple of nights ago, I was sitting on the couch watching the Biggest Loser finale.  Holy crap!  Did those contestants look amazing, or what?!  Anywho, during a commercial break, my local news channel gave a preview of a review that they were going to do on the eleven o'clock news.  It was a review for *GET THIS,  PEOPLE* caffeine infused pants.  What the WHAT?!

Upon further investigation, I discovered that there's a company out there (which I won't promote) that claims that YOU WILL LOSE WEIGHT over time if you wear their pants/leggings/body huggers.  Apparently, the magic formula is "caffeine infused micro capsules" that are somehow affixed to the fabric fibers of the pants.

Um.  Yeah.  Okay.

You know what I think?   

I think that I'm a pretty intelligent woman.  And if I had any concrete proof that the quick ticket to safe, everlasting weight loss (of which, there is get your asses back on that treadmill) was caffeine?   Dudes.  Everyone else would know about it, too...because I have a big friggin mouth and I would share that information with the world (or at least the three people who read my blog). 

Also?  I would spend all of my free time connected to an espresso IV drip, while soaking in a Tub O' Dark Roast, eating dark chocolate covered coffee beans like they were popcorn kernels. 

I'm committed like that (hmmm....or maybe I should be).

Wednesday, May 25, 2011

Try Scouring Those Bad Boys With Steel Wool

In a recent attempt to rid ourselves of excess stuff, Hubby and I decided to clean out our attic and basement. Since neither of us are fans of yard sales, we gave some of our stuff to goodwill and decided to put the larger scale things on Craigslist.

One of the things that I listed on Craigslist was a pressure washer that my husband bought years ago. In the ad, I listed the necessary information that a consumer would need if he/she wanted to purchase it--like the make and model, the working condition, the price, and my Hubby's cell phone number as the preferred method of contact.

About ONE HOUR after listing the pressure washer for sale, we got a phone call inquiring about it.

I swear. I am not even remotely kidding when I tell you that the phone call went just like this...


Hubby: Hello?

Random Guy: Yeah. I'm calling about the pressure washer you have for sale?

Hubby: Yep?

Random Guy: Can I ask you a few questions about it?

Hubby: Sure.

Random Guy: Are you gonna hang up on me?

Hubby: WHAT?

Random Guy: Don't hang up on me.

Hubby: *PUZZLED* Why would I hang up on you?

Random Guy: Okay. So, you have a pressure washer for sale?

Hubby: I thought we'd already determined that. Do you have another question?

Random Guy: Yeah. So, if my girlfriend wanted to use it to wash my balls, do you think it would be powerful enough?


Ladies and gentlemen?

I PRESENT...just one more body of proof illustrating that WE, are INDEED, total a-hole magnets.


Thursday, May 19, 2011

A Taser On My Nightstand

If you're not from my neck of the woods (WHUZZUP, RHODE ISLAND?!), you probably don't know that the weather here has been abysmal.

I think it's been raining everyday Christmas...and my flippin heat is still on! WHAT THE HELL, SPRING?!

Anywho, waking up everyday to a cloudy, foggy, rainy, cold world doesn't do much for my morale.

So this morning, in addition to the facts that (A) it's raining AGAIN, (B) I'm angry that I didn't win the lottery...AGAIN, and (C) I AM NOT AND NEVER WILL BE A FRIGGIN MORNING PERSON, I think I handled myself puh-retty well when my husband walked into the bedroom at 5:45AM to wake my arse up.

I know what you're thinking.

You're thinking, "Oh! What a nice husband Sally has...waking her up in the morning for work! SO sweet!"

Yeah, yeah, yeah. He's nice. Whatever....

But THAT doesn't change the fact that this morning, he didn't just quietly rouse me from my slumber.

No sirree, Bob. He wanted to be creative.

So, he walked into our dark, quiet, toasty warm bedroom and woke me up by playing THIS SONG (click here)--FULL FUGGIN BLAST--ON HIS IPAD.

CUTE. Ain't he, though? *gritting my teeth here*

(FYI? By my handling it pretty well, I mean that I didn't kill him. Praise Jesus.)

Tuesday, May 10, 2011

THAT Takes (Chocolate) Balls!

My husband's aunt is a Weight Watchers Leader (and she's AWESOME!). Almost every Tuesday morning, I go to her meeting because (A) she motivates me and (B) I really like the people in that class. They are so freakin funny.

This morning, I was running a little late. By the time I got there, the meeting was already in full force. I didn't want to interrupt anyone, so I decided to weigh-in and leave.

As I was approaching the WW center, I noticed a sign, suspiciously placed a few feet from the WW center's door. Hmmmmm, I thought. That WASN'T there last week. I have an uneasy feeling about this.

And then? When I got right in front of said sign? Dudes! You are NOT even going to believe it! THIS is what I saw:



Can you believe that sh*t?!

A new "chocolate" shop opened up in the same plaza as WW and someone who works there made the executive decision to advertise their chocolaty wares right in front of Weight Watchers!

And to make matters worse?

The damn chocolate shop in question isn't even RIGHT NEAR Weight Watchers! It's actually all the way on the other side of a large anchor store! See?

It's like the Evil Chocolate People are saying, "Let's make some big moolah by tempting the chubby people! They have no will power or self control! We'll be rich!"

I am not impressed, Chocolate People. NOT.IMPRESSED.AT.ALL.

As a matter? To the jackass who's directly responsible for putting that sign in that very intentional location? May the fleas of a thousand camels infest your crotch and may your arms be too short to scratch!

Um...I might be a chocoholic. Can you tell?


Monday, May 9, 2011

The Life Insurance People Wouldn't Blame Me

In a few weeks, I am going on a much needed vacation with my husband and some friends.

In preparation for my trip, I've been working really hard to get into better shape, by exercising and eating right.

So, a few weeks ago, when my husband gave me a cute, chocolate bunny for Easter, I threw it in my pantry and hid it under some crackers. I WAS NOT going to eat least for now.

Then? Last week, I came upstairs from the basement, where I'd just finished my 45 minute battle with that bastard, George Clooney (my treadmill). AND, I found my husband sitting on the couch. He was settling in for the night, watching some television before bed, while indulging in his evening snack.


I'll tell you why!

Because in the same way that NORMAL people eat things like chips and salsa or veggies and dip, he was eating my NOW COMPLETELY PULVARIZED, chocolate Easter bunny AVEC peanut butter. Observe:

In that moment, I (A) wanted to stab him and (B) realized that I married an EVIL genius.

Emphasis on EVIL, y'all.