Is that a sock in your g string, or are you happy to see me?

I married for the first time when I was 18 years old (a wee baby). During that time of my life I had a serious stick up my ass. I did not do the typical teenager type things…no partying, no drinking, no nothing. I am not saying that is a bad thing. I can only hope that our 3 children are as tame as their mother. However, not only did I have a stick in my ass, I had my nose stuck very high in the air. Thank goodness life has knocked me down a few pegs and I have lost the stick and all my snottiness.




My BFF at the time was my matron of honor. She was a few years older than me and was a lot more worldly. She had what I call a disappearing stick up her ass…you know the kind that only showed itself when her parents or preacher where around. Needless to say, she had been shit faced a few times in her life.



Well, BFF decided to take it on as her personal goal to get me shit faced. She decided that my bachelorette party would be the perfect opportunity. Just so happens that around that time a local club was having a male review. They would allow 18 year olds in for the male review, but they had to leave when the show was over. It took her (and a few other people) a little while to convince me, but I eventually gave in.



When we got to the club they carded all of us and gave the over 21 crowd arm bands to buy booze. Which they promptly bellied up to the bar and purchased my first alcoholic beverage. I was super nervous with my first few sips, but soon got the hang of it. Five or six drinks later I was drinking them like kool aid. My friends were getting quite annoyed because I was not getting the slightest of a buzz.



It was time for the show to start. I must say, they did not disappoint! A bunch of muscle heads gyrating around in g strings with a couple hundred women…what fun. If you have never been to a male review I highly recommend it just for the entertainment factor alone. The women entertainment that is. These women were acting like crazy people.



I have never been to a female strip club. I have been told that it is look and no touch or they breaka your facea. Not so at a male review. As a matter of fact, they jump off the stage and dry hump half the audience (if you want it or not). The dancers actually will take your hands and put them on their body. Needless to say, little Miss Stick in the Ass was very uncomfortable.

By the third dancer I was getting bored. I mean there is only so much muscles, oil, and gyrating in my attention span. I then turned my attention to drinking again. While I was a goody goody, I did want to know what it felt like to be drunk…just a little. I kept drinking, and drinking and drinking. I felt no different. WTF! Oh well, drink some more.



There were a lot of bachlorette parties there that evening. It seemed like every ten feet there was a chick with a veil and light up penis necklace. So when the MC started talking about bachlorette parties we all started yelling.



Then it happened.



They said my name! Coolie! I am like a bachlorette stud…wait…did he just say come on stage?! Oh fuck me! I am not going up there! Holy hell! At this point I was shoved on stage by my own entourage of light up penis wearers.



Are you fucking kidding me? Here I am, Stick in My Ass, on stage in front of all of these people. Alone.



Not for long.



The next thing I know all of the dancers for the evening came dancing their little g stringed asses off. ALL AROUND ME! One of them got a chair and told me to sit down and proceeded to give me a LAP DANCE! While the guy behind me rubbed his crotch all in the BACK OF MY HEAD. Two guys on the sides grabbed both of my hands and made me RUB THEIR CHESTS!!!!!!!!



OH MY! I was in Chip n Dale HELL!



Thank God this is when the 19 drinks I had kicked in. Not like a full fledge buzz, but enough to get me through this situation without me crapping on myself.  And enough to make me want to peeeeeeeeeeeeeee! (I guess having 175 pound man gyrating on my bladder did not help.



Then (and now) I wonder what made them pick me out of the sea of brides to be. All I can figure is that whatever I was wearing showed my stick in my ass and they wanted to help me pull it out.

Just another reason why I need a Gay BFF!

I am back...and this is a doozey!!


For those of you that do not know, I am addicted to stupid reality TV. Yes, I am the person that keeps up with the Kardashians. I live and breath for Real House Wives of ___________ (You fill in the blank. I love them all.) If there is trashy, crazy entertainment…I am there baby!




It should not come as a surprise that I was enjoying the newest installment of Khloe and Kortney take Miami last night when I heard a phrase that I have never heard. Anal Bleaching. Errmmm?? What? So naturally I turn to my partner in trashy TV watching, my husband.



Me: What did she say?

Dean: I don’t know. I think she said anal bleaching.

Me: What does THAT MEAN?

Dean: How the hell am I suppose to know?

Me: You are A LOT of help. I must know what that is…



Later on in the shower I was trying to come up with a way for me to find out exactly what “anal bleaching” was and what exactly it involved. I can’t google it on my computer. If I did I surely would have like 100 ballizion pop ups for all types of porn…probably mostly gay porn. Then my computer would get some kinda STD and lock up forever. I just can not do that to my precious computer. How would I play bubble pop and maya pyramid? No, googleing it was not an option.



Ahhh…this is where my good ole blackberry comes in handy. See this is where I search for things that I don’t want to possible affect (infect) my computer. I am in BIG TROUBLE if anyone can do some kinda search for all the things that I have looked up on my blackberry. I just hope if I ever turn up missing I have my BB with me. If not the cops are going to think I am a sick bitch that has a fascination with celebrity’s ages.

So we go to bed and I get out my handy dandy BB. I type in ANAL BLEACHING.



HOLY CRAP. People really do this crazy shit. Apparently, it started with the porn industry. They started bleaching their ass holes so that it would look more appealing.



WHAT!



I mean, who even thinks of such.



“Umm yea Cindy, that is a great shot. Great yelling and screaming…just one thing. Your ass looks a little to ass like so hows about you start wiping your butt with Clorox clean up wipes.”



I just sat there reading for half an hour. Apparently it is not as easy as just switching to Clorox wipes. You can go to a salon to have this procedure done or your can go to your dermatologist and ask for a cream.



That is not a conversation that I would like to have with my dermatologist. Nor would I like to go to a salon and have someone lather me up in butt bleach. For people like me, there is the option to order cream online. You have to apply the cream twice a day until you achieve the desired color of ass hole you would like. Then you have to use Kleenex wet wipes to wipe your hiney so that your prestine butt hole will not be stained again. You can use regular wipes, but the Kleenex wipes are flushable.



Anal Bleaching is very popular in the gay community. See! If I had the gay BFF that I always wanted I would not have had to google “anal bleaching” on my blackberry! I am still in a desperate search!

I get how this can be appealing for gay men. Thankfully, I am not their target so they don’t give a rats if my asshole is pink and fleshy.



After reading all about this new phenomenon, I started thinking. I don’t think that most heterosexual dudes care if your ass looks like ass. I mean, if they are willing to sick their dick where poop comes out, I don’t think that their standards are that high…just sayin’.



Another thing that struck me was all the celebrities that have jumped on the “clean the ass” band wagon. These bitches need to think about the women that are trying to immolate them. What kind of message are you sending if you say “your ass is nasty”…hello! It is an ass! It is suppose to be NASTY.



Next thing you know these cleb bitches will start eating potpourri so their shit really does smell like roses.

Taking a break

I am going on a bloggin vacation.  I love blogging, but there are a few other things that I want to accomplish in the next few months.  My baby is becoming more mobile/needy...and being a mom comes first. I also have slightly cured my sleeplessness, so that leaves less time to blog.

Sorry no post this week...

These people have been keeping me busy...





and when they go to bed I am spending time with...



So, anyway...sorry I have not been around.  Thanks for the comments and the AWARDS!!!  I love you guys!! Be back later.

A Saturday funny!

A chick from HS post this on FB and it is FUNNY!  Try it!  Call the Nestles hotline at 18002950051.  After it promts english or spanish just sit there about 10 seconds...then press 4...friggin FUNNY AS HELL!  Then press 7.

Trip to the doctor...part deuce. I almost died.

As I prepare to write this blog I have to tell those that read my post last week about taking Matt to the doctor , I DO NOT MAKE THIS SHIT UP. Sometime I wish I did. My brain is just simply not creative enough to come up with this crap. I know that if I was reading a blog like this at some point I would have to say “WTF!”. I also want to apologize for the length of this blog. Please stick with me until the end…it is worth it.



Today was Ansley’s turn to take a trip to the doctor (9 year old check up). This time I took Laney with us. I decided to make it a girls day. Her appointment was at 10, but we had to be there at 9:45. So rush, rush to get us all ready and get us there on time. We were in the parking deck at 9:39, so we were cutting it close.


I did not expect for this trip to be anything to write about. I knew that I was in for a time with Matt. That is just how things roll with him. I am not saying that Ansley is not hilarious. She is just more dignified. She acts like a little adult when we are in situations like this.


We arrive at the same stupid sign in desk and answer the same stupid questions as last week. Thankfully, this week I remembered my name and did not just start shouting out numbers at the receptionist. We find a group of chairs close to the door that call you, but positioned so that I may be able to scope out everyone in the waiting room.



I am a people watcher. Along with my people watching, I am a people talk shit abouter. That is, if there is anyone to ogle. My only real wish is that I can have a mini camera that I can take pictures of all of the people that I ogle and talk shit about so that you may get the full effect.



So I hone in on my ogle target. A woman with 2 little boys. The boys looked to be about 7 and 4. The 7 year old was playing DS (What a fucking wonderful invention! Smooches Nintendo!) and the 4 year old was drawing. What made me decide to ogle them was the mom.


I live in the deep south, but it was rather chilly here this morning. 31 to be exact. This woman had on tapered “mom” jeans and flip flops. Often miscues on wardrobe selection will put you on my ogle radar. I have a pic of her feet. I snapped a pic of Laney and was able to get them in without her going all Sean Penn on my ass.





After some mad text messaging to my husband (he is normally my partner in crime when ogling) I started to eavesdrop. (No, I am totally not above that). Mommy Flip Flops was reading a Medical Terminology book with a fierce passion. She was flipping from the back to the front like a mad woman. She was steadily jabbering to herself.

The younger boy came over to show mom his art work and she half ass glanced at it and then said (in a perfect Prozac voice) “Why don’t you write your numbers 1 to 100.”


Me and the little boy gave her a WTF look. It is not like he was misbehaving. He just wanted her to look at his drawing. Anyway, she proceeded to draw 2 lines on the paper and put him to work while she went back to flipping madly though that damn book.

All of a sudden she yelled out “He needs to drink more water!!”.

Umm ‘Kay.


That was it. Then she went back to her jibbering and highlighting. I am was beginning to think that maybe she was in the wrong place. I think that she needed to be at the wacko office getting some more of her crazy meds.

Then in walks my next target…

A very cute little girl and her mother. There was a child size table and chairs in the middle of the waiting area. Little girl takes a seat in a little chair. Mom scans her options and sees that the waiting area is pretty full by this point, so she decides to take a seat in a little chair. Well, mom was a little fluffy (totally not talking shit about that because I am fluffy to the 2 power). As she sat down her little girl yell out “You gonna break that chair and fall on your butt!”


OMG!


“Ansley” the nurse yelled. Thank God. I did not want to be there to witness what that mother might have to do to that child.


So we go back and do the weight, height, blood pressure song and dance. Then we go into a room (bigger then last weeks) and the nurse give Ansley a gown. As the nurse leaves Ansley looks at me and says that she is not undressing.


“Well of course you are. You are going to do whatever they tell you.”


“Ugh, what all do I have to take off?”


“Everything down to your underwear”.


“Well, we have a problem. I don’t have any on.”


Oh Lord. I so wish I could have a picture of my face to share with the class. I was in total shock.


“WHAT! WHY THE HELL DON’T YOU HAVE ON ANY UNDERWEAR?!”


“I took them in the bathroom and forgot to put them on.”


“Holy Hell! What are we going to do now?!”


“I don’t know, but I don’t have any on.”


I swear I have taught her better then this. OMG we are at the doctors office and she is sitting her commando! Naturally I text Dean so he can share on my shock and horror. I asked him what to do, and of course he had no friggin idea.


So I decided that she would just take off her shirt and leave her jean on. I was hoping that at 9 they would not be taking a look at her goodies…Please God don’t let them look at her goodies.


Resident comes in and does her thing. Question, question, question…then time for the physical exam. Sure enough, she asked Ansley to unbutton her pants so she could check “down there”…sigh.


It was not as bad as I thought. It was just a sneak peek, so she might not have even noticed that my kid didn’t have any drawers on. Then she tells me that her attending will come in and take a look at her. I asked would it be the same exam and she told me that it would not be that in-depth.

Phew!


I sure hope that you did not think that was my big finish for this long ass story.


Attending come in and examines her and does make her unbutton her britches to look at her private parts. Then she told me that since Ansley was pigeon toed she wanted to examine her legs more closely to make sure that there was nothing abnormal.


Ummm ’kay.


“So, I am going to get her to remove her pants so that I can get a better look at her legs. Sometimes pigeon toed can show signs of one leg shorter then the other. I need to make sure everything is symmetrical. Does she have any panties she can put on?”

TOTALLY EMBARRASSED “ No, she forgot to put them on this morning (and I only have diapers for my baby in my bag. I did not know it would be necessary for me to carry a pair of drawers for my nine year old!)


Doctor: Well she is just going wild and free today!



Sigh. This is where I surly thought I would die of embarrassment. Now, I am sure that written in my child’s chart is a note that say “Mother does not make child wear underwear”. That will be there for all eternity. I am so proud.

My Skew on the Tiger Press Confrence-Elin Style

I had a Tiger post prepped, but I held it back to be able to play along with the ladies of the Skew.




If you have a Skew on Cheetah Woods go on over and link up with the ladies.

 



Transcript from Elin Wood’s Press Conference







Good morning, and thank you for joining me. Many of you in this room are my friends, Most of you are just money grubbin tabloid journalist that have been following me around for the last 3 months on constant “wedding ring watch“. Many of you in this room know me not for my smoking hot body, but as the Swedish nanny that snagged the Tiger.. Many of you have cheered for his sorry ass, and have been real fuckers for keeping his infidelity a secret…and on some occasions aiding him in these endeavors. You can all suck it.



Some of you have been critical of me. I want to say to each of you, fuck a whore and get speckled dick syndrome. I am not responsible for anything that pathetic version of a man that I am married to has done. As a matter of fact, because of his “selfish and irresponsible” behavior, I have had to have my va jay jay examined on more then one occasion, and I have had to under go multiple blood tests.




I know people want to know why Tiger did these things. Well, the answer is simple. HE IS A MOTHER FUCKER. Just like every other man that has ever cheated on his wife. I mean, it is not rocket science people. He can get up and say that he has an addiction and all that bullshit…to that I say DUH! What man is not addicted to sex? HELLO! Then other people ask “How could you do these things to your wife and your kids?” Easy, he is a narrstic rat bastard. He only cares about himself and his little (I mean little) Tiger.



Tiger has stated that he and I are starting the process of discussing the damage caused by his behavior. I wanted to clear that statement up and say that we are discussing how that sorry mother fucker is going to pay my ass. Pay dearly, for the rest of his sorry mother fucking life.



I also want to clear up something else that he stated in his “stroke his ego like a hand job” press announcement. I did not hit him on Thanksgiving, but I beat the FUCK out of that Cadillac. I was swinging at him, but the pussy got in the SUV and tried to drive away. So, no I did not hit the cum stain, but I did want to.





I am not ruling out staying married to Tiger. However, it will be on my conditions. The first condition is that if he has sex with anyone other then me (which is not gonna fucking happen) he agrees to have acid slowly dropped on the tip of his dick until it is mutilated. Not even Rosy Palm. No one. One day, if his actions prove that he is worthy, he might be allowed to come back to our marital bed. The second condition is that I have total control for the next 14 years (one for each whore). This includes, but is not limited to, if he says something that pisses me off, or does not do what I say he will be subject to whatever I deem fit. Punishment can be anything. Like playing a major in full drag queen style.





There has been news in the media that has stated that Tiger used “performance enhancing” drugs. I am here to say, DUH! Get real people. Did you think that his guns just popped out like that over night from lifting whores? I also have a picture of his ball sack and you tell me if you think he has been hitting the roids.










Also, I want to add that “performance enhancing” drugs are not only used on the golf course. He has been on Viagra, Cialis, and Enzyte all at the same time. He can no longer achieve a natural erecting because of all of the steroids. Even while on all of these drugs, he has serious soft dick. (not a good fuck people, not a good fuck).
Don't believe me! Rachel Ucantelliamawhore is coming out with her tell all book "I've had Tiger in my tank, and I felt empty". Nuff said.




I also want to let all of you know that today I am going to buy the biggest, bad asses Hummer type car that I can find. If you mother fuckers do not leave me and my kids alone I am going to ram your asses off the road. I am also going to buy one bad mother fucker of a trained watch dog and if you come near my house you are going to have your balls removed by his razor sharp teeth. Enough. Leave me the fuck alone!



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I have started a new blogy for all of my shit box (TV) talk. If you get a chance come over and check it out.