Doom. DOOOOOOOM.

Gods still sick.

Do. Not. Want.

So to make myself feel better I've been watching the video below over and over again. And I do the little paddle while I watch it.

Occasionally I make "ehn ehn ehn" sound effects.



This has been a hard week. I forgot to send out payment for some auctions I won and I feel so bad about that good lord. Also during my forray to Target I forgot I need new mascara, black liquid liner, and a few other things.

Ugh.

However my spam says that I can "beat her uterus with my big new rod"

If anyone that reads this wants a Pogo guest pass lemme know.

While I'm languishing here's a list of things I really need to pick up.

1. New bra
2. A cream black eyeliner probably the one by Revlon HIP
3. mascara
4. Eyeliner brush
5. New jeans. My DKNY jeans that I lucked out and found in an emergency at Ross are starting to wear out in a not sexy way.

Other things that need doing. I think I might trade my partial jar of Pastorale the color and I don't really get along all that well sadly.

I bid on a pair of cheap Vicky's secret yoga pants on ebay today. Those are comfy and the starting bid is like 5$ and I am down for that.

I think that's all. I feel like poo. I'm going to cruise the Mac community on el jay for deals.

Sickly Homo Out.

Stumble It!

Links and whatnot.

Lots of whatnot today.

Still feeling crappy in the over tired, over cranky, feel puffy and gross kind of way. Also I have discovered that my body hates cold medicine and fights back with gastrointestinal distress, breakouts and random heartburn.

So links:

Monk made a very delicious post about spanking today. NSFW clearly and I agree that he is in fact dreamy.

Margaret Cho (who is one of my favorite people) has some really fantastic tattoos and her latest is really lovely go look here.

What else?

Oh I've been playing on Make Up Alley and wrote some new reviews go read them here. If you have to be a member to see those tell me.

What else?

I've been feeling strangely invisible lately. Or rather, like I have no impact on anything. Which is probably due more to me being sick, over tired and ay inside my own head. I go through this sort of thing with some regularity at least once or twice a year.

Usually this is precipitated by illness or the aforementioned over tiredness, then I dig in and let my brain spin. This time around most of my issue is this: quite honestly I am just not able to do a lot of things I enjoy and it makes me miserable.

I get myself all riled up because I want to do this that and the other thing, then i want to be able to write about it, blablablabla. The truth is I'm biting myself in the ass with this and I need to stop.

What else?

OH I've had a bit of a personal break thru in terms of my body. Like most other human beings I know I am on and off with how I feel about my body. I realized the other day while I was getting naked, ok I digress here but I highly recommend this if you can, as soon as you get home take it all off. Srsly. More on that in a minute, anyhow I was getting naked and I realized that yes, I am finally and actually okay with how my body has changed.

This isn't really about weight but rather the distribution of it. In the last five years or so my body shape has changed a lot. I've had to relearn how to dress my body and now, oh HAY I'm all right with it.

Ok back to the naked.

I have a problem dissociating from my body and not enjoying it. I started spending probably inordinate amounts of time bucky naked. Chances are, if I'm at home I'm naked. Or naked with a cardigan on, or just socks. I'm not going to sit here espousing how "liberating" and whatnot it is. But I will say that spending so much time naked has taken a lot of those moments of "OMFGWTFBBQ!!1!!!" is that my ass, away.

If you can't spend tons of time naked I also highly recommend after bathing, be naked then. Make your booty shiny with some nice cream or lotion. Sit around let it sink in. It feels very luxurious.

What else?

Oh I have decided that I really do actually want to get a tummy tattoo. I've been planning a memorial tattoo to my friend who passed away a decade ago and wanted the words Bad Motherfucker, tattooed on my left side.

Okay backstory quickly. Pete was a junkie who committed suicide. It was bad. The reason I want Bad MotherFucker instead of say flowers, butterflies or some shit is because of the following memory of him which is one of my favorites.

He and I were hanging out in one of the parks the hobos and drunks hang out in, lolling in the grass drinking coffee. I forget now how the conversation started but, the punchline is that Pete jumped up off the ground, ran around me in a circle flailing his arms and screaming: "She's a BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAD MOTHERFUCKER" I laughed until I almost peed.

So I think I will get that on my stomach rather than my side because I have a short torso and don't want the words squished. I've been looking for line drawings of hypodermic needles (he and I shared a fairly sick sense of humor) or something like that because I know it'd make him smile.

OH MY GOOD LORD burn my goth card right now I am jiggle my ass in my chair to the new Britney album.

Good lord.

what else?

I'm babbling because I am really tired. And keep busy=don't pass out under desk.

I am going to do the challenge I saw over at Every Woman Has an eating Disorder with color commentary of course:


Inspired by April's challenge, posed here--Eight Things I Like About My Body:

1. My boobs. For sheezy. We all know I loves me some boobies. However, I love mine most of all. D Cups of Chocolate Doom.
2. The color of my skin. I love it. I am brown fabulousness.
3. My hands/nails. I love the shape of my fingers and my long nails.
4. My ham. Truth is I used to hate my big, slightly out of proportion thighs. I have come to love them. Big, kinda jiggly, and shaped like whoa. I love My. HAM.
5. My booty. My poor little half a badonkadonk. I am lacking in the ghetto booty but goddamn the right pants and it's cute. Also, naked very cute. Cute enough that Uniballer quite literally kisses and/or nibbles on it daily.
6. My wrists. I have finely turned wee wrists and I love them.
7. I love the inside of my knee. It's soft and I don't know why but I love it.
8. And lastly? My big dead sexy brains. I love my brain it makes me TEH HOTNESS.

The verdict on the Britney album. Cheesy effects, some bouncy beats, her voice not great but she is working it. Decent enough to make me want to go out dancing. Yes it makes me want to get hoochiefied (no crotch shots though) and go shake my shit.

While on the subject of hoochieness I will tellz you internetz, I am one who enjoys the trashy. I don't care what anyone says I find great pleasure in dressing tartily, and (here goes some of my street cred certainly) behave in a less than ladylike manner.

When I say less than ladylike I mean any of the following. Groping, smooching, occasional flashing, the super occasional barfight (I have been involved with 3 and started 2 other ones), loudness, dancing on tables, the dirty dancing, ladies room make outs. Seriously. Granted I am calmer now than I was when I was younger but still.

I like going to strip clubs and fooling stupid straight boys into buying me lap dances.

I have also been known to induce bicuriosity in women who've not really had any. Usually in the form of smooches I will ask for while batting my eyelashes and working the cleavage.

I will hit on your wife. As I've told many men I know. And no not in a jerky way but in a , "I think you are super beautiful" kind of way.

I'm only jerky to few people.

Okay I think I am finally spent.

Going to make my dinner and listen to the new Jay Z album.

Homo Out.

Stumble It!

Meh...is what I say.

I don't feel good. I think I'm maybe having the startings of a cold and I am cranky about that and chock full of zinc and vitamin C.

So I'm goin to tell you all a story and like that Nas song I like I'm telling it backwards.

The story ends with me hobbling up the stairs knock knee'd with a bladder full to burst. For the record I climb six flights of stairs daily (not counting stairs at work) to get home and going upstairs with a full bladder sucks.

I had just gotten off of the bus which was almost 40 minutes late in arriving to my stop. I get off the bus and the driver thanks me for always being so calm no matter what, not making a scene and being a nice bus rider. I tell him I've been riding the bus so long that almost nothing phases me anymore and shit happens, it's not his fault. I'll see him tomorrow (which is tonight). All due to police serving a warrant on someone in SouthPark which said person probably objected to and fled.


Street closed.

Me napping away until a guy in the back yells, "FUCK I GOTTA GET HOME", I jump the man next to me jams his stuffed Barney (I SHIT YOU NOT, a stuffed Barney the dinosaur doll( in my lap, tells me to "watch him" all while I sort of blink in befuddlement because the bus is stopped in the middle of the street.

So I eventually figure out what's going on while the guy who woke me up yelling, continues to yell about how he has to go home and the bus driver better back that bitch up and go around. Driver can't do that. They get in trouble for that. SO there I am, half asleep with a stuffed Barney doll in my lap.

Closer to downtown prior to me nodding off, I was reading my book quietly and giant man sits in front of me, no problem. I see him at least 3-4 times a week. I nod in a friendly enough type manner but for something like ten minutes every minute or so he turns to look at me all weird.

I ask if there's something I can do for him, he grunts.

Downtown, strange guy listening to really loud 80's radio station on tape (yes, taped 80's radio) with a Barney stuffie sits next to me, randomly yelps odd things. I wonder if he has Tourette's or something. He sits Barney in his lap so he can see, turns him, pets him. I do not want.

I get on the bus and the driver smiles at me, asks if I got out early the night before. Apologizes for running a little late. Traffic weirdness. I don't care. I just want to sit down, try to stay warm and semi conscious until I get home.

The Beginning.

Srsly.

What else?

I just this week thrifted some fantastic clothes on Livejournal. Including the dress that (Goddess and ass willing) I will be wearing to my company Xmas party. That is one of the few times of year I have a really good excuse to dress nice and get drunk.

I also got myself some lovely LOVELY make up and I am really excited to get it. I ran out of eyeshadow primer last week so I ordered another tube of that, and a tub of Fyrinnae's oil control mineral veil powder which I am super excited about trying. And a few more samples from them.

I also wrangled (on livejournal) myself this Clinique lipgloss that I have been hunting on ebay for months without success. And a partial jar of Mac Pastorale pigment.

I've also got my eye on a cute pair of olive drab bondage pants.

I don't know if I've mentioned it previously but I handed over budgeting to Uniballer entirely. I am not super great with money and that freaks me out like you don't even know. Having him handle the finances has taken so much stress off of my shoulders.

And bonus even prior to getting a raise, I have actually had some little bits of mad money. Which I have used to fill in gaps in my wardobe, used books, make up. I am not hard to please. However I do like having enough spare coin of the realm so I can keep myself in little trinkets.

That isn't to say that when it comes to anything over 20$ I don't still freak out about it because I do.

I don't like to talk about it but yeah. It's an issue.

Um.

I feel like I need to talk about how mad at my body i am right now but I'm not entirely in the mood so maybe tomorrow.

Meanwhile I'm going to crawl back into my turtle shell, watch belly dance videos on youtube and sip ginger tea until my stomach stops doing that stupid thing it's doing.

Homo Out.

Stumble It!

Ugh, fat rant and some people are fuckers.

No really.

I am kinda sick.

Actually I feel like stepped in shit.

I wanna go home.

Finances suck again.

And I feel a little ranty.

I have a lot of love for Queen Latifah. A lot. I have since I first heard of her back in the day. I rocked out to U.N.I.T.Y, I watched "Living Single" religiously. Okay I am OG Queen Latifah lover.

That said I am really not happy with her right now.

She announced her new Curvations Clothing line and as I first looked I was so excited. Gorgeous clothes, hot plus size models and then I started checking the prices.

If you look at the website linked in the article yes, her clothing is sexy and beautiful but, very expensive. I saw a one shouldered tshirt top for 68$ or some shit. T shirt material. More than sixty dollars.

Does she not remember what it's like to be poor?

Also her sizing only goes up to a size 22 and I don't like that. The whole thing strikes me as a marketing ploy. Less "I love my fellow big girls" and more "Let's make some fucking loot".

Mind you there's nothing wrong with making money. What I don't like is the faux rah rah I love you guys-ness.

Don't play at fat politics. Don't play at support when in the end we all know it's not about supporting your big booty sisters but, about bilking your big booty sisters for serious money.

I am unamused.

It strikes me as funny that now that I'm actually fairly chubby, and in all actuality right in the middle of "average" for an American woman that now my fat politics rear up all pissed off and whatnot.

I remember when I was actually a fair bit bigger than I am now wanting so badly to lend my help and ear and voice and getting rebuffed many times for "not really fat". Someone actually said those very words to me and I was so hurt. Hurt because despite my vehement support without any creepy "admirerness" or anything I was showed the proverbial door by lots of evil looks and the cold shoulder.

I think that's a big part of why lately I tend to be so reticent around any cause. While yes I might agree and want to champion something at the same time, I don't want to be outcast because I don't fit the mold. For all of my piss and vinegar I am actually very sensitive to that sort of thing. Fat activism wasn't the only place.

LGBT activisim. Yeah. Everything was fine while I had a girlfriend but when I started dating a boy yeah quite suddenly I was persona non grata amongst some of who I thought were my closest friends.

I never understood that mentality. Especially if you are well aware just how passionate of a person someone is and you dismiss them out of hand because they seemingly "break ranks". The fuck kind of shit is that?

However for all my vitriol today I actually did something nice. Which brings me to rant#2.

Be NICE to old people you fucks.

So as I'm getting off the bus today this elderly lady and her "companion" I put that in quotes because he was an asshole. So little old lady in her cute lavender polyester pants and with her cane could hardly get off of the bus and forgot to get a transfer. Even though uber fucker was hollering at her (from about fifteen feet away) to "get your damn transfer". SHe couldn't hear him. Fuck I could hardly hear him over the bus din.

I got her transfer and tucked it into her purse then helped her down out of the bus. She almost tipped over and fell and I put my arm around her waist and helped her to the flat part of the ground while her "companion" stood and tapped his toe. Turns out Miss Lady has very bad balance and "always" has trouble in that spot. She thanked me effusively and tottered to catch up to her "companion".

How hard is it to be nice to and conscious of old people?

I have hollered at more than one person for almost knocking someone down in their haste to get on the bus or off the bus. I would rather be late to where ever I'm going than to stand by and watch someone fall or have some other difficulty. I have more than once helped an older person use their atm/ebt card at the store. Or got them on the right bus.

Is it that hard to wait a goddamn minute?

Same goes for people with small children. Even if you don't like kids, you don't have to be a fucking dick. Let them pass. Or if you see someone struggling w/baby stroller grocers etc offer a hand it's a decent fucking thing to do.

Okay I think I am spent.

I am going to have some ginger tea and try not to stab anyone.

Homo Out.

Stumble It!