Friday, September 30, 2011

10 Easy steps to not look like an idiot..

I know in this fast paced world of social media, fashion and the ever growing "political correctness"  I thought I would just throw this out, you know like a Peachy PSA, mostly because I actually care about you guys and since the game changes faster than the banking rules in monopoly when you are playing an 8 year old.  These rules are subject to change at any given moment and may be antiquated by the time you see it.  In that case, you should know better.




** Disclaimer** This post was originally started for another blog, however due to the tone and nature of the none peachy topics it landed itself over here on ThePits***




10 Easy steps to not appear like an idiot ( because I love you)






1- Sunglasses:  big, little, round, square, coach, or Serengeti drivers.  We all know they are a great buffer for a previous late night of party making or a quick jaunt to the corner market when you don't feel like slapping on a hundred bucks worth of make up to purchase a $3.00  ICEE or Iced coffee.  However hopefully around the age of 4  you have figured out that even if you are wearing sunglasses other people can still see you.  You're basically reducing yourself to a 3 year old or a dog that sticks his head under the couch or pulls a blanket over their head to become invisible.  WARNING others will still see you, which is fine,  UNLESS-  it's raining, it's night time, or you are inside a building.  In any of those cases you will be stared down, at, and generally look like  an idiot.


2- Fanny packs:  yes I own one ( ok 3)  but *cough*I got them when they were cool,*cough* ( sure sure whatever)  also you CAN'T freaking go to Disney without a fanny pack, or New York unless you have a fanny pack or a book bag,  especially if you have kids,  it is by far the saddest product I have to admit got a raw deal because honestly when you wear it and you got curves that fanny pack will bounce bounce baby bounce bounce,  which is basically a mating call at any comi-con.


3- Going to a comi-con while wearing sunglasses and a fanny pack.   Really?  If you are a chick WTH?  If you are a dude, I'm sorry man,  but buying a cat will probably be the closest you will ever be to "owning puss".






4-  Allow your daughter to wear a "vamp"  pirate serving wench or french maid costume before she is allowed to date ( which in my house was 18, but I am not judging you or your daughter, everyone else may be though)  especially if you dress her in a fashion that basically says, "  hi, please eyeball me like prime rib"






5- Allowing your child to be a jerkface.  If you have decided to go forth and multiply take the extra step to actually parent your kid. What I mean by this is,  if you have them and notice they are not nice little kids, then don't be surprised when they are totally assholes as grown ups.  Honestly if you had a puppy and didn't housebreak or crate train them and then one day went WTH?  Why did you just treat that person like that?  YOU ARE AN IDIOT.  Talking down about other people, families,  even animals, is basically telling your kid it's ok to be a jerkface.   Empathy, no matter your financial, racial, or cultural status you better teach it to your kid. They are your children, not your playground/pta buddy where they can fathom how to be 2 faced.






6-   Don't buy a car you can't afford the tag on.  In other words,  stop !  Deep down you simply need to move from point A to point B.  Sure things like AC and defrost and heat those things are nice,  but honestly the entire country has spent the last decade being so concerned about  appearance they would rather eat ramen, be late on the power bill while making sure they drive an expensive car and have their spa day.  Stop it, you look like an idiot.  If you can't get your car tag, don't buy that smart phone and get your nails done.  Honestly WTH are you thinking?  Anyone who judges you by the car you drive was obviously a victim of number 5.


7-Quit with the guilt factor.  Really if you are white upper middle class housewife with a college degree in philosophy or the advanced studies of western European guinie pig psychology or whatever the hell else your parents wasted their money on, that you will never use please tend to your own business, be grateful for your station in life and quit feeling the inner guilt you are clearly harboring for that station thanks to your parents hard work and your luck.  Put down the poster board, and picket sign,  Unless you are EXTREMELY well researched and rounded on the particular situation then shut up and go crochet something.  Seeing you on the news fighting for whatever the " topic of the week" is  makes for interesting news until the reporter asks your opinion and you say something asinine like " uhm it's bad for our country and moving in the wrong direction"  literally that's the equivalent to the stereo type of the guy with a pabst blue ribbon and a mullet saying, " it sounded like a train and then BAM my trailer was blown away"  please stop, unless you did something horrible you are paying penance for, stop it, if you want to pay it forward because you are lucky and do realize it.  Do community service,  teach your children ( if you have them)  by example, Visit a nursing home, VA, or go help in a soup kitchen,  pick a family that you can anonymously help,  mow an elderly senior neighbors yard,  trust me when I say that will be WAY more community service.  Sure you wont end up on TV and get all that valuable face time but was it really about you anyway or was it about the cause?


8- LIFE IS NOT A CONTEST.  If you live life as if it is constantly a contest YOU LOOK LIKE AN IDIOT.  Remember 3rd grade?  My Dad can beat up your Dad,  or   My scooby doo lunch box is way cooler than your strawberry shortcake lunch box.   There is a reason that is called elementary behavior, you should learn to not do it BEFORE you leave elementary school.   You don't need to look prettier than everyone, your husband does not need to "out earn" everyone, you don't need to buy $3000 worth of freaking chocolate bars so your kid can get a twenty five cent bouncy ball.  Oddly the same holds true on the opposite end of the spectrum.  You don't have to have the absolute worst migraines known to man simply because whoever you are talking to has fibro, or RA,  it's NOT A CONTEST.   My brain hanging out does not allow me a free pass to call you an idiot for being pissed you locked your keys in your car.   My pain/grief/joy/happiness is not a barometer for anyone elses problems or success.  Yesterday someone I care a lot of about said, " I feel like such an ass when I complain to you about my everyday crap, because compared to you it's nothing"  I literally had to stop her and say NO!  You totally get to own your  problems or joy, this isn't a contest or game.  I'm not a child who feels the need to excel in either direction I am just here to enjoy this journey called life, it sucking sometimes is just part of the deal, the same goes for you.


OK I am done,  It's 8 steps, because I am lazy, I mean, because I love you.  If you really want 10 go ahead and write the last 2 it will be good for you.




xo
Peach out

Tuesday, September 27, 2011

Hero worship, the line forms here...

I have 2 huge dogs, a 7 yr old black lab ( mei) and a 5 yr old dalmatian (loki).

Admittingly Mei has an addiction to digging holes that rivals any crackheads need for a rush, and Loki is trouble by  many extreme neurotic syndromes and is randomly  willing to eat through a french door if I am in the shower and he can't see me.

However these magnificent yet flawed ( like us) beasts are my friends, my buds, my dawgs YO!

They will chase mail people, children and best of all,  the power meter dude.  An unfortunate side effect of such behavior resulted in them becoming pussified.  What I mean by that is, for over 1 1/2 years now these 2 giant hell hounds have become the equivalent of piddling little purse puppies.  They live inside.  It began when Loki was run over, nothing like a crushed pelvis and a couple surgeries to convince you to let the suffering dog sleep inside, but we can't be having favorites no no no, so in comes Mei, simply by proxy.

They are extremely handy.   The only exercise I get every day is sweeping the floors of the massive amount of hair they shed that leads to a mathematical conundrum that should have them running about completely nude ( as in hairless) which means clearly my dogs are exceptional, at growing hair.

There is also a possessed evil cat that dwells under my roof, but this is not about her or her evil ways.

For 2 weeks now there have been what can only described as a marauding GANG of  Thugs (stray cats)  living on my back and front porch.  Their tendency to accidentally think this is OK is in large part the fault of my husband and child feeding and spending time in the yard paying them undue attention.

This is a cause and effect situation..   The presence of these thug cats has turned my massive mans best friend BEAST dogs  into sniveling she wimps.  They want out, they can't go out back there's a cat on the deck OMG what do we do?  Sure we are 10x's the size of those furry things but OMG they make an awful hiss.  Ok lets go to the front, everyone's excited sliding on the wood floors hauling ass to the front door, fling it open and SATAN is sitting there with fangs, and  claws and a hunched back and making a noise that scares us.

Since I personally fall no less then 35% of the time I am standing up  I make it a habit not to bend over.    But I love my dogs, and by love my dogs I mean I want their hairy asses to shit outside.

I took a gamble picked up the cat who was preventing my dogs from access to the grass in my yard,  thus allowing them to freely run into the sunshine and pee and dig holes.

Short lived was our little utopia when my vicious attack beasts were quickly engaged in a war for the porch with the legion of felines.

I again had to get up I walked to the front door, fling it open and NOW  my dogs can not get in,  because SATAN is standing guard at my front door, they are in battle mode, attempting to defeat this foe but literally powerless to do anything other than bark at it, and quickly jump backwards.

It was clear to see by the look in their eyes that they felt absolutely horrible for not being able to help me.  In their eyes I was trapped, trapped in the house they couldn't get to thanks to what I can only assume in dog vision equates to a 300 foot  DRAGON.

Without even thinking I simply drop kicked the cat across the yard thus giving my strong manly beasts a hurdle free path to enter the castle.

I looked down and saw my dogs, frozen in time, staring at me in total disbelief.  I was a GOD.  They were completely freaked out that I, me, a mere mortal was able to defeat the SATAN beast so that they could again return to the comfort of laying on my leather couches in the air.

As if for only a moment,  my dogs could speak I am sure they would chant my name, just like the last couple minutes of the movie Rudy.

For I have that level of power.  You are welcome.

Monday, September 26, 2011

We are all just nuts.



 
On the outskirts of a small town, there was a big, old pecan tree
just inside the cemetery fence.  One day, two boys filled up a bucketful of
nuts and sat down by the tree, out of sight, and began dividing the nuts.

'One for you, one for me, one for you, one for me,' said one boy.  Several
dropped and rolled down toward the fence.

Another boy came riding along the road on his bicycle.  As he passed, he
thought he heard voices from inside the cemetery.  He slowed down to
investigate.  He just knew what it was.  He jumped back on his bike and rode off.  Just
around the bend he met an old man with a cane, hobbling along.

'Come here quick,' said the boy,
'You won't believe what I heard!  Satan and
the Lord are down at the cemetery dividing up the souls!'

The man said, 'Beat it kid, can't you see it's hard for me to walk.'  When
the boy insisted though, the man hobbled slowly to the cemetery.

Standing by the fence they heard, 'One for you, one for me.  One for you, one for me.'

The old man whispered, 'Boy, you've been tellin' me the truth.  Let's see if
we can see the Lord...?

Shaking with fear, they peered through the fence, yet were still unable to
see anything.  The old man and the boy gripped the wrought iron bars of the
fence tighter and tighter as they tried to get a glimpse of the Lord.

At last they heard, 'One for you, one for me.  That's all.  Now let's go get
those nuts by the fence and we'll be done...?

They say the old man had the lead for a good half-mile before the kid on the
bike passed him.



Tuesday, September 13, 2011

I really need a penis.

Ok, I have a problem, and I know the first step to overcoming a problem is to admit you have a problem so we can just count this as the first step to a healthier me right?

Wait what's my problem?

Oh yeah, sorry,  I have acute incurable penis envy.  There I said it, now somebody pass me a fucking doughnut and some OJ after the "hi's and welcomes" calm down.

I don't think I ever went through the entire "denial phase".   I have always loved penis, despite the fact they are possibly the most hilarious looking part of a human body and hang around with nuts I love them.

Everyone I have ever been madly in love with had a penis.

Short of having one of my own  the penis is pretty much perfect.  It's like a thermometer only it rises in the occasion of attraction instead of temperature.  The rest of the time it just hangs there, all awesome and hilarious.  I have to give credit to the penis for being involved in the creation of all 3 of my children.  Yeah it's obviously remarkable.

However I also have to admit that my reason for penis envy is indeed for 1 solitary reason.
Just one, out of all the wonderful things a penis allows you to do.
Pee in the snow,  write your name, miss the toilet,  be embarrassed in middle school by random wood, hide behind pleated dockers, and drive a chicks head into the wall.  Yeah those are all great, but I really am envious of 1 and only 1 thing.  Me and Demi Moore share our envy issues.

I WISH I HAD A PENIS SO  I COULD TELL PEOPLE TO SUCK IT.

literally that's it.  I mean sure I would love to just bend over the numbnuts in the medical field and ram them with a hefty member but honestly I think I would feel just as satisfied as if I could stone face look at them and say,

"suck my dick"

If I had a dick I would probably go ahead and trade 5000 words out of my lexicon just to be able to stone faced look at someone and say, "suck my dick"  and then offer up a dick.

This is probably one of the many reasons I don't have a dick, because whoever was in charge of passing out penis, said, " oh hell no,  this is a bitch, no dick for her, she will have everyone sucking it".  They were right.

Examples from just today-

New Brain Surgeon-  blahdy blah blah, blah shit you have heard for 10 years, blah blah shit you have heard, blah, shit that is irrelevant, blah,  anyone could die anytime, you could get hit by a bus leaving here, blah blah blah.
Me-  "oh I see,  well in that case,  SUCK MY DICK"


Post office worker-  uhm no, you have to buy another box, they are over there were you stood in line for 20 minutes, no I am  not going to help you even though you asked, yes I realize I am sitting on a fucking stool watching TV but I will sell you a stamp for you to stick on your letter then tell you to put it in a slot in the wall that leads to a basket under my hand but I wont do it for you.

Me-" Oh ok, sorry to bother you by actually parking the car and staggering in then waiting in line 3 times because you couldn't get your fat ass off the stool to actually do your job, or mailing a letter, so instead of getting back in line can you go ahead and just SUCK MY DICK?"


Neurologist- You didn't have a seizure during the 30 minute eeg, but that doesn't mean you don't have them so you officially can't drive for a full year starting today.  Oh and here's some medicine that will make you feel like I punched you in the vagina.
Me- " So I don't have seizures? or I do? or what?  never mind just go ahead and SUCK MY DICK."


Lady at the refill pharmacy-  no that rx is expired, no that one can't be renewed until tomorrow, these 5 are a week late refilling, and this one you need to come back in 6 days to get.
Me- " oh well they just told me I am not allowed to drive anymore for an entire year and I live pretty far away from here, so if you could fill anything that needs to be filled for the next 2 weeks that would be awesome and save me from going without my medicines as prescribed, since I can't drive and all.
Bitch / Lady-  NO
ME- "OH OK, HOW ABOUT YOU JUST SUCK MY DICK THEN"


French Neurosurgeon-   bladee, blah voila, tres blah,  cava , blah,  uh duh twa, blah,  I am so good looking and french I will distract you with my laid back attitude and frenchness. blah,
Me- "  Je parle en frances,  poir fe vour  SUCK MY DICK"


Gas Pump-  $3.39
ME-  "SUCK MY DICK"

Dog hair on the floor -   no need to sweep just scream
ME- "SUCK MY DICK"

Dinner?  Family?  what ?  I got nothing...
ME- " SUCK MY DICK"

Laundry?
ME- "SUCK MY DICK"


I should just get white business cards with the words, " SUCK MY DICK"  on them, nothing else, just pass them out to everyone I meet thus cutting straight to the chase.

Honestly I really believe I could live remainder of my entire life just using those 3 words,  if of course, I actually had a dick,  until then,  it's an empty threat.  ( ha, no penis? empty? get it? ha?  shit I am funny right?  no?  well then to you I say,  " SUCK MY DICK")


XO
PEACH OUT

Thursday, September 8, 2011

Grease me up Johnny boy

In the immortal words of the founding father of HOTNESS, ( John Travolta aka Vinny Barbarino duh)

" I got chills they're multiplying, and I'm losing control, cause the power you're supplying,  IS ELECTRIFYING!"

Yeah baby, finally all these long years after Grease, suffering through Grease 2, then of course my name being Sandi and my Best Friends name was Danny hence we pretty much HAD TO DO THE LEADS in what can only be described as a High School murder of what should never attempt to be acted out by anyone other than John and Olivia,  I finally, honestly know for sure 100%  that he was singing to me.



Now I don't want anyone getting confused, yes Brendan Fraiser is still my #1 boy toy.  Me and Mr Depp have a deep down intellectual relationship that blurs into something possibly inappropriate at times.  Then there is that new guy, the new Conan dude,  yeah what's his face?  Pretty sure he will be giving me  massages in the near future while he plops chilled grapes in my mouth. All of this is fact, you heard me FACT.  I can't help my hotness and their inability to be immune to my prowess.  

I thought it was the  brains, the boobs, the attitude, the fact I ooze a sexiness of accident prone klutz that makes me more "approachable" to these mere mortals.  But today it all came together and I have the truth.

In the past couple weeks the circumstantial evidence is accumulating, I present to you the following exhibits.

EXHIBIT A
I've had about 6 EKG's this year (  EKG is for your heart,  most of them centered around my May 2011 great Heart Attack adventures.  I pulled off a couple heart attacks in less than a month from a prior healthy heart.  I mainly did it so I could get felt without having to buy an airline ticket.  Plus the little pasties with bb's on them stuck all over my breast makes me look like a cow with erect teats.  


EXHIBIT B
I had the immense pleasure of having a full on EMG  ( this one is pretty awesome, and by awesome I mean it sucks and hurts and should have been abolished in the 1940's along with shock therapy and lobotomies)  This lovely exam is done by a Neurologist and they put leads on your body parts, fingers, hands wrists, spine, neck, legs, and everywhere but your snatch.  Then they send an electronic pulse to that lead while you lay on a little metal disk that acts as a grounding so you can complete the electrical circuit.  If this doesn't sound extreme enough for you, add phase 2 of the EMG, this is where they actually stick more needles in you that your Grandmothers ugly ass Tomato pin cushion.  But because having needles shoved between your fingers and into your neck is not allowed thanks to the Geneva Convention  along with waterboarding ( which sounds shit tons funner)  they claim this as a medical test, and they hook electrical current to those needles and measure the jerk, timing, and screaming levels only to deduce that you are neurologically every level of jacked up but there's nothing they can do,  which prompts you to stab the Doctor in the retina with frozen supersized depends pad because you pissed yourself all 145 shocks.  Ok you don't have to stab the Doctor but honestly they deserve a good stabbing for doing such a painful test just so they can "confirm" there is nothing they can do..  Skip the depends and just drive a mini van up his ass and then say, " wow, yeah your ass is totally jacked up, but that van is stuck so there's nothing we can do"


EXHIBIT C
The EEG,  if you are bald, and like discos this is the test for you.  However if you have very long hair, and tend to get headaches and seizures from flashing strobe lights and are opposed to voluntarily hyperventilate  for 3 minutes this may not be the test of choice.  Nothing says Studio 54 like laying in a pitch black Faraday Cage with a lamp as bright as the sun 1 inch from your face smacking faster and faster light into your eyeballs while you hear sounds like somebody slipping on rubber gloves.  All in all, if you can tolerate strobe lights, noise, claustrophobia, and laying on your back then this isn't a bad test.  However be prepared to spend a good hour trying to wash the + symbols and glue off your head and out of your hair.


In conclusion,  all of these exhibits have 2 things in common.  Me of course, and Electricity.  the E in the first letter of each test stands for Electricity.  Yes of course I have also had heart caths, and  extensive MRI's and bloodwork, and ambulance rides, and ultrasounds, and CAT scans but those are just not relevant.  

Exhibits A, B, C  prove I am FREAKING SHOCKING !   So Johnny babe come on over,  I am going to get one of those red round "take a number" thingies so I can  share my electric personality with as many as possible in the most efficient manner.


Now serving  number 76.


XO
PEACH OUT
 

Friday, September 2, 2011

Sainthood or a complete idiot.

Please pleaser someone snopes this and tell me this isn't true.  Tell me someone who is defending the safety of me, my family, my rights, my country is NOT THIS BIG OF A FREAKING IDIOT.  If it's not in snopes please enter it and then debunk it.  I hope this guy has not been given a GI weapon of a higher caliber than a packet of ketchup.






I have to go now, I have a date at the adult porn cinema where I will be wearing a body condom and sticky proof shoes. 


xo
PEACH OUT