Folger's

There's a Folger's Coffee commercial out right now.  The doorbell rings, young girl opens the door, and it's her brother.  They go to the kitchen and he sniffs the coffee bit like a crack whore.  He gets his cup o' joe and hands his sister a present, saying "I got you a present", all while sniffing at his coffee and drinking it like an alchie coming off a five day bender.  The sister stick the bow on his shirt, he looks confused, and she says, "You're my present."

So what happens when I see this commercial last night?  For the first time in its entirety? 

I cried.  No joke.  Cried.

Then couldn't sleep because I couldn't get that stupid ass jingle out of my head.

"The best part of waking up is Folgers in your cup!"

Birthday Laughs

We'll get to the giving thanks part in a few minutes, I'd prefer to talk about me first.  Because, clearly, I give an awesome amount of thanks for myself.

Last night, one of mom's and my cousins came into town.  To protect her identity, I shall call her Coco and call her husband P-Diddy.  Well, Coco is an animal fiend and has bunches upon bunches of animals, including horses and goats.

We have heard numerous stories over the years of the horses needing to be... milked... shall we say?  I.e. The jizz needs to come out in a bottle to stick into a mare (cause things are just not done the old fashioned way anymore...).  Last night there was a new variation to the story.

Coco mentioned they have recently acquired a goal.  A male goat.  Apparently the male goat is a horny little goat.  Mom happened to ask why Coco and P-Diddy don't get a female goat to make the male goat happy.  Apparently breeding goats is not a good time, so no having fun for the male goat.  So what does the male goat do?  Hump himself.  And then get a little dirty as a result.

P-Diddy may or may not have said one day... "Should we give him a bath?"  I died.  Especially since my beloved mother followed up with, "I just have to ask, is a goat's ballsac bigger proportionally than other animals?"  See?  I'm not JUST a product of dear old pops.

Then I went to dinner with some friends.  For whatever reason, they started talking about penis pumps.  I missed pretty much the entirety of the conversation and managed to clue in when they said penis pump.  I was then told I only hear what I want to hear.  I've heard this before...

I've been single for a good long while now.  It is of my friends opinion that it is high time I went back to my old ways.  My folks read this blog.  We won't discuss those ways...  But whoo to 20 pounds down from when the ex saw me last.  Too fat for you?  Suck it.  Boo-ya.

Ok, ok, ok.  I guess I'll be a good girl and end this on a sappy note of thanks.  Clearly, I give mucho thanks for my family.  They provide not only tons of laughs (which are spread far and wide by virtue of this blog), but tons of support.  A gal can't ask for much better than my folks.  I was allowed to fledge and leave home and as a result, I'm always happy to come home.  It's not an obligation, but a pleasure.  Moving on.  I clearly have a great many friends that I'd need about an hour to talk about and breakfast is in three minutes.  So I'll pop on at some point and give my massive amount of thanks to my brilliant, beautiful, and frankly, weird, friends.  I'm pretty sure they know they're weird.  Either that, or I'm just so weird that I rub off on them.  Lastly, I'm thankful to all of those who may no longer be in my life for whatever reason, but taught me life lessons that I can't and won't forget.  Lessons I needed to learn and lessons that have made me a better person.

So people.  Go gorge, go do something active for yourself, and give thanks for the joy that is your life.

“God gave you a gift of 86,400 seconds today.  Have you used one to say ‘thank you’?  ~ William A. Ward

Hard to Soft

I'm home.  I'm home with no bed because the guest room bed is going to be used to mom's cousin and I no longer have a room because my bedroom got turned into the everything else room.  So my fantabulous rents got me a blow up bed.

*Insert blow up jokes here* - Such as, can I have a blow up man too?

This morning dad asked me how it was, or if it was too hard.

I responded, "Well yeah, cause the hard goes soft."

Dad just looks up at me from his newspaper and says, absolutely deadpanned, "Yeeaahhaaa, that's how it works!"

So for those of you who wonder where I get my raunchiness from... re-read that conversation and then your question will be brilliantly answered.

And now onto a picture I feel I need to share with the coming of the end of my program...