Bad Mood

Dear Amy,

I have been in a foul mood for about 3 weeks now. I don't know why. I haven't a clue. It almost seems as if I had a sparkle or glimmer of happy times then a cosmic fire extinguisher came along and put it out. I just exist. Day to Day. Same shit, different day. Nothing happens anymore. Are we in a slump?

How bad is it you ask? I have had the same bottle of bubbly in my fridge for over 2 weeks now!! I haven't even entertained the thought of opening it. Sad. What happened to our spirit, our gumption, or willingness to go out on a ledge and pee? I wanna get so drunk we wind up doing shots of Vanilla Extract again. Life is nowhere the amusement park it was when we were on Vicodin.

I started thinking what could have led to my demise. What could the contributing factors be? Have I done anything different? I remembered that I had gotten a new therapeutic mattress & started smoking weed all in the same week. This just makes it hard to get out of bed is all. Dosn't really put a damper on my social life.

I want to make Tequila spiked Arnold Palmer's again and mumble things to each other in French so who ever we happen to have around does not know we are saying the most ridiculous things about them. This is not cool.

If I am going to drown.. it is going to be because there was open bar.. on a yacht!

Drunk much?

Amy,

Did you get drunk last night? You put Christian lyrics as your Facebook status again.

Why TIticaca can never be a Smudgie name..

Titicaca is not a good name for a Smudgie. It is not a good name for anybody. I know where you got it Aimes, and I do love Titicaca as a person.. pigtails and all but, I love Bubble more and Titicaca knows this. We never connected. Titicaca sounds like it translates to Shitty Titties. Shitty Titties is not a good name for a Smudge. We are hot, smokin, all of us and there is nothing shitty about a Smudge. Wait, maybe.. um, not going there this early in the morning.

A-N-Y-W-A-Y, speaking of shitty titties.. I'm tired of being the ass girl. You get to have all the fun. Let's do a stint in Arizona (only a couple of weeks) so I can get mine done. They are perfectly fine the way they are, just too normal. I want perfection.. I want SKI SLOPES!!! I want them to turn up on the ends like the roof of the Grinch's place. Seriously!. I don't want the big obvious half circles that move around on your chest under your skin. NO. I want big bouncy ski slopes. Let's do dueling datebooks cause we are going to Arizona to the Master. Besides, people are going to start to ask why all my pictures are from the back and you never get to see full frontal of me. :(

Cumulus Clouds, the shortage of rainfall in the Mojave and why we can never eat at the Varsity!

Recent events have me planning a trip to the A.T.L. soon and I was invited by an old school chum to meet her at the Varsity for lunch. I had to decline. I am saddened by this because there is no place on earth better to buy lips and assholes grilled to perfection than THE VARSITY! Hum, "What happened?" you ask.. "Why is it that you are excommunicated from that wonderful island o' grease and beer battered onion rings?".... MINNIE DA' MOOCHA!

Let me set the stage... It was July hot in Georgia and my dear friend Minnie (AMY!) and I's dogs were barking from all the shopping we had just done. My heel had broke on my shoe and we limped in the Varsity for lunch and a malt. No sooner than we sat our butts down in the booth, she sticks her Jimmy Choo out and trips the little waitress in the red t-shirt! Hot Dogs are flying at this point. I came very close to loosing my best suede Prada to a coke that whizzed by my head. I peeked out from under the booth clutching my bag, coke-a-cola dripping from my extensions and gave her one of those "What the fuck?" looks.

Very matter of factly she says to me as she straightens herself up on the red vinyl, "Bitch had it coming". "What?, what did she do? We just got here!" I asked. "History, her and I have history" Minnie says to me. This is when she explains that she came in two weeks prior and made the acquaintance of a lovely little fellow named Lyman. Lyman is a sophomore at Tech. Minnie and Lyman connected over a slaw dog and found themselves in one of the ladies bathroom stalls shortly there after discussing the shortage of rainfall in the Mojave. Apparently the conversation got pretty heated and the waitress that now has a bloody nose from her slip and fall, kicked the stall door in and says "LYMAN! I told you if I caught you with another slut again I was going to bash you in the head until all you saw was Cumulus Clouds!". Bitch then takes a swing at poor little Lyman, he bobs and weaves and our Minnie takes one for the team, right on the kisser. Well, at this point Minnie's right brown slowly starts to rise, her face turns blood red and her left eye starts to twitch (it always does when she is fixin to twist off) the waitress gets a glimpse of this and she turns so fast and runs in the opposite direction her little paper hot dog hat hovers in the air for a second before it falls. Girlfriend left skidmarks on the tile!

Minnie hurdles Lyman and runs after the waitress; you can only go so fast in 5" Blahnik's. Girl was gone! She makes it to the parking lot only to see a beat up Honda civic skidding sideways out of the lot. She picks up the closest thing to her feet, winds up and pitches a baseball size landscape gravel at the Honda. It misses its target and goes right through the wind shield of an M6. Alarms go off. She debates on running but her purse with I.D, Credit Cards and the rest of the 8 ball we did that morning is still in the stall with Little Lyman.

She dashes in the ladies room, Lyman hands her the purse and asks if he will ever see her again. She says "Damn I hope not, go back to your dorm room, Ugg boots and Ramen noodles kid cause you've still got some growin to do. Oh, I'd get that wart looked at if I were you".

So here we are sitting in the booth in the aftermath of this most recent event when I see a portly black gentlemen walking over to Minnie and I. He leans over and under his breath he says, "Get the hell out and don't ever come back. I know who you are and I know what you do. Georgia ain't big enough for the two of you and short of bringing Marie Laveau back from the beyond, I will never get the bad Jou Jou of you two outta here. Now Get, and don't ever look back or I will call the Dean at Tech and tell him what yall did at the KA house last Spring".

We are never going back.

Tomorrow.. Round Table Discussion on why "Sexting" is a bad thing.. What?

Seriously! How the fuck could this be bad... Tomorrow.. too tired tonight.. but TOMORROW we will get to the fluffy powdered glittery bottom of this....

May the force be with you......I think

Dear Mel,
I swear this JUST HAPPENED to me!!
So I go to Kroger (which I like to call Kay-Rogay) to get supplies that cannot wait until tomorrow. Namely, Little Debbies and Diet Coke. Anyway, I got to the U-Scan to ring up my purchases, which I know I am not supposed to do because those 4 machines are taking the place of 4 workers, but the only lanes open were manned by Kroger employees who I have already creeped out recently and I was just trying to avoid an awkward moment.
Anyway, the machine I was at had this really weird echo when it said, "Please scan your first item." I looked at the U-Scan supervisor, who is in fact a real person, who helps when you screw up weighing your own bananas. I said to her, "I think my machine is broken." She said,"Why?" I said, "It has an echo, like Obi Wan Kenobi is trapped inside." She said, in a very unamused voice, "Thats just the way it sounds." I shrugged and said, "OK, but someone is in real trouble when he decides to use the force to get out of there."
So, anyways, I ring my stuff up and scanned my ever useful debit card, and when it asked me if I wanted any cash back, I replied,"Well, as a matter of fact I do please." I may have to make purchases tomorrow that I do not want traced back to me. So I enter in that I would like to receive $40 back. Nothing happens. I wait. Nothing happens. I said to the lady, again, "Mine is broken." She said, " It has to tell me to give you change before I can give it to you." So I stand there, wondering exactly who was the boss of this little relationship and wait. After a couple seconds, I look at the machine and I said, in my best Yoda voice, "Me, forty dollars give." At that exact second, the machine starts spitting 8 nice, crisp $5 bills at me! As I was leaving, I said to the very startled lady, "May the force be with you."
So in other words, I may have to find a new place to shop.
Love, Amy

Dear Mel,
On this day, I make a promise to you:
When(not if)we get rich, I promise that I will hire a small Asian man to follow us around everywhere we go. He will have a large gong, and everytime anyone says either of our names he will bang it. Just like Long Duk Dong in 16 Candles, our second most favorite movie ever! Whether we are teetering around on 5" platform Pradas and wearing Sasha Fierce catsuits or Fred and Ginger jammies and mirabou slippers. This I promise you.......

Love, Amy

Paging Dr. Howard, Dr. Fine, Dr. Howard

Dear Mel,
There is a huge neon sign on my forehead that says all weirdos welcome here. Really.
Being a strange person, I do tend to love other people of equal or greater strangeness, but things are starting to get out of control!
Just today for instance, I get a phone call from a girl I went to high school with. We were pretty good friends for a while, and then parted ways when she moved to another school. I would run into her from time to time and always go out of my way to talk to her and catch up, but it has probably been 10 years at least since I have seen her. So I run into her at the grocery the other day and stopped and talked for a few minutes, promising to send her a friends request on facebook, and I do as soon as I got home.
So, anyway, she calls today and tells me she needs advice. She has married this man a few years younger than her, and while I was telling her congrats on being a cougar, she starts to tell me about how he doesn't make love to her anymore. And that he likes to play with his instrument in the shower. He isn't a musician. I was floored. She wanted my advice on how to handle it.
What? How the hell am I supposed to know? I haven't seen you in 10 years and you are asking me? I do not have a degree in anything, much less psychology!! My only advice to her is the next time she hears him in the shower slapping his sausage, jump in and join him!
The funny thing is, this isn't the first time this has happened. This week! Maybe I should start an advice blog for sexually repressed wives of men who like to jerk the gherkin! I could call it "ask Mother Thumb, and her four daughters!"
Love, Amy

Amy is fucking insane, brilliant but insane

she just said....

our second catalog has to have a pride and prejudice theme
has to
HAS TO
outdoor shots
in fields
with fog
and a mysterious man in the background of every shot
it is imperitive
or i may stab myself in the heart
or at lesst prick my finger
or stub my toe