I Have a Strawberry to Pick with You

This is gonna be a totally random post. Why? Cause I’m tapped out in the creativity department.

Bite me.

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I was just in the bathroom.

Eh, hmmm…lady that was the bathroom ahead of me?

Did your “bidness” really stank that much that you had to spray an entire can of air freshener RIGHT OVER THE TOILET?

Really? Cause if so, then you need to get yourself to a doctor, cause that ain’t right.

If not, then please limit yourself to one maybe two spritzes of that high octane industrial quality air freshener that is SOOOO concentrated that it comes in a 2.4 oz can.

That way, I can breathe when I go in to see a man about a horse.

While we’re on the topic of bathrooms….

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….raise your hand if your, ummmm, nether regions smell like strawberries? No? What about watermelons? Still no? Roses? Vanilla? Lilacs?

I would love to find a woman who’s snatch actually smells like a fruit or a flower.

I’d actually consider batting for the other team if it truly did smell like this.

Yeah, don’t act all shocked that I said that. Pick your jaw up off your keyboard and delete all those b’s and n’s that are running across your screen right now.

You know you’d totally do it, too.

Who wouldn’t? I mean, those are some pleasing smells.

Not that the female secret spots…nah, I’m not going there. It’s getting too hot in here as it is with the topic.

So, just to keep me from vagina envy, please leave your feminine hygiene sprays at home or use another potty, please. Cause my vagina (her name is Betty if anyone is curious) is jealous and I just can’t make her understand why she has to settle for the body wash I use in the shower instead of a fancy, schmancy spray like the lovely ladies who use the potty before me do.

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I opened up my spam e-mail the other day and was astounded at the Kreskin like abilities it has.

Here’s a sampling of the goodies my spam (not to be confused with Spam…yummy, yummy fried Spam) offers me each and every day:

Breast implants-Dude, how DID you know? I mean, not so much implants, but, yes, the girls could use a little lift. I mean, I did have a baby and all.

Black singles-Ok, now, I’m not against inter racial dating, but I DO live in Mississippi. It’s still verboten in some remote areas. So, I think I’ll skip this one. But thanks so much for thinking of me.

IRS tax relief- Well, you’re close. However, it’s more like YOU owe ME money, not the other way around. There are some highlights to being a poor single mother who owns nothing but the clothes on her back.

Dr.’s Office- Yeah, yeah. I know. I need to go see the doc. I got a coupla moles that need to be looked at on my back and I need to get one of those horrible, horrible silver things inserted into my non-vanilla smelling nether regions to make sure things “down there” are hunky dory. Quit yer bitchin'.

Skinny Boost- Who you calling fat? Oh, yeah….me.

eHarmony- While I appreciate your attempts at setting me up, I can almost guarantee that the nearest single male to me that happens to be computer literate is probably, at minimum, 150 miles away. Makes for awkward dating, no?

JENN “WANNA SEE MY PICS”- Steenky Bee, is this you? If so, sure, I’ll look at your pics. If not, then bitch, back off. I don’t know you. Therefore, I don’t want to see your pics.

Can’t Afford School- Uh, no. Did I not mention the part where I’m a poor single mother? Even if I could, the nearest school (besides the big ass university near my place of business) that I could potentially attend is 30 minutes from my house and 90 minutes from my place of business. I couldn’t even if I COULD afford school. Plus, I don’t see my kid enough as it is. I’ll wait til she’s in college before I contemplate that time suck again.

Ebay “dumb and poor” – Well, you’re half right. And I’m not gonna say which half.

Hotties Looking For Dates- Can’t be too hot if they’re trolling for dates on the ‘net. Nuff said.

And this one made my day….

….e-card “(firsntname) your e-card is waiting for you”.

First of all, it’s FIRST you dummy (are you from eBay?) and second, I’m offended that you don’t even know my first name. Cause Jenn from Wanna See my Pics does and so does Can’t Afford School. Get with the program, eCard.

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I’m still livid that Urban Dictionary has not accepted my word for their site. I mean tragiversary is a profound and accurate word. Especially with today’s tragedies. Right? Right.

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You know that you’re reading a book originally written in the 1940’s when you read this passage:

“…and two open windows with net curtains that puckered in and out like the lips of a toothless old man sleeping.”

I’m currently reading “High Window” by Raymond Chandler. Not too shabby so far. It’s a Philip Marlowe book. So, that’s a plus right there.

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I found a bunch of old dime store pocket books (literally books that can fit in your pocket) at the rummage sale where I volunteer. I have like 30 of them. I’ve already read one and it was a hoot. The phrases, descriptions, wording, etc…..I’m in hog heaven.

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I’ve discovered Archer Farms Cherry Pistachio Dark Chocolate granola bars. Yummmmmmmmmy in my tummy.

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When exactly did I become a grown up? I'm still diggin' the Facebook phenomenon and I've been looking at pictures of people I went to high school with and they're all grown-ups (well, most of them are). They got, like respectable jobs and husbands and wives (not at the same time, I hope) and kids and a mortgage and cars. They've gone on trips out of the country and work as assistant producers at Disney and have met celebrities and started companies and sold houses.

When did this happen?

One minute, we're all giggling and laughing and eating lunch outside of the drama room and the next, our kids are puking and walking and talking and making their own lunches.

I've never pondered the concept of time before now. But Facebook has bitch slapped me and made me realize that I'm an adult. An honest to goodness adult.

And, I don't think I like that.

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That’s all I got peeps. How about you? Anything random happen to you lately?

Later,