Holy Divorce Batman!

So, I was reading People online (go ahead, judge). I had actually broken a hard-core addiction to celebrity gossip about a year ago, and figured I would pop on over to see what was new. (I bet you thought I was going to say porn, didn't you?)


And my gaaaawd... there is so much I have been missing out on!

Alicia Keys, Neil Patrick Harris and 8 bajillion other celebs had babies!
But, more interestingly.... holy effing hell is everyone and their dog breaking up? Divorcing? Separating? "Trial" Separating?

Obviously, if a couple isn't in love any more, then it's time to move on if you are both unhappy. Or there's abuse. Or cheating.

But honest.to.Jebus this stuff scares me. I mean, if a solid, secure, normal, down-to-earth, wholesome, squeaky clean couple like Christina Aguilera and Jordan Bratwurst Bratface Bratman can't stay together, do the rest of us have a hope in hell?

She is practically DRIPPING with commitment, people!  Image Credit

BF and I have discussed our fears about that dreaded 50% statistic for marriage success. SO, I did the math, and that means at least ONE OF US is going to get divorced after we get married. Fuck.

I know people in their early twenties who (whom? whatever) I love dearly who are already divorced. It breaks my heart. Not because I think they should stay together if it ain't workin'... but... what a shitty deal.

You fall in love with someone, commit to spending the rest of your life together, and then things turn so sour, sometimes so violently/horribly/gut-wrenchingly sour that you despise the person.

In a million years, I couldn't imagine ever being more than a tad bitchy at BF for, say, not using a clean dish cloth to do the dishes! (WHAT?! Go ahead, judge, but food-counter-wiping-uppage leaves bacteria on that shit! I don't want bacteria-laden clean dishes~! Hmph!). I couldn't imagine a life without him. I wouldn't want a life without him.

And when I think about it, I can only assume that almost every.single.other.couple out there at least started out feeling the same way. HolyShitPanic.

Some of the bloggers I follow are divorcees once or twice over. While I ADORE the snippy edge it gives some of them and their dastardly humour, I couldn't imagine enduring one divorce, never mind two! To those of you out there that have had to do this, I tip my hat.

Well, not like, good job, so happy to hear you are divorced. But I mean, for, you know, surviving through it all. Especially if you have children, too, and have to see your asshat of an ex semi-regularly.

All of this feeds my fears about marriage and beh-bees. I am not a religious person (please don't unfollow me, lol), but I feel the need to be married first before having any beh-bees. I need to lock BF in at least THAT much, so it will be a real hassle for him to leave my future-saggy-pimple-covered-stopped-going-to-the-gym-'cause-I'm-married-and-don't-have-to-even-try-anymore ass. Oh, and my beh-bee(s).

Approximation of post-marriage pimply ass.

Wow, I'm getting ahead of myself.

But I fear that, too.

More than a couple of people have told me that people just 'stop trying' after marriage. Jaysus... I don't want that. I need the motivation in the pre-engaged state we are in to keep showering (sometimes) on the weekends. If we're married... hell, maybe I'll go weeks unbathed.

Have to chisel off the lumps, as my dad says. (Which reminds me, I need to dedicate an entire post to all the odd sayings I have learned from my father that I thought were mainstream phrases until I frequently saw the look of confusion on BF and co-workers' faces. I digress).

Celeb couples who have recently bit the dust (or at least recently enough that I remember, or was saddened at some point):

• Sandra Bullock and Jesse James (though he always seemed a little douchey)
• Britney Spears and K-Fed (Whahhh? Not happily ever after forever?)
• Jennifer Aniston and Brad Pitt? (I am STILL mad at Brad for that one)
• Courtney Cox-Arquette and David Arquette
• HELLOOO? Jim Carey and Jenny McCarthy (that made me so sad)
• Ryan Phillllllipppppe and Reese Witherspoon
• Christina & Jordan
• Patti Stanger and Andy Friedman (She's the Millionaire Matchmaker, people, the light of hope is dwindling...) Okay, they weren't married, but still.
• Heidi Montag and that Spencer Pratt douche.
• A bunch more I've forgotten and am too lazy to google.
• Did Catherine Zeta Jones and the old Douglas break up?

This is sort of the opposite of my point, but the results are still horrifying, nonetheless.

Alrighty... well, I never expected this post to go quite the way it did, but, meh, too lazy to overthink it tonight.



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Dr. Asshole - The Movie!

Wow me, two posts in one day (can you tell I am avoiding real work here?)

This is a trial run....

Stumbled upon this cool program and HAD to try it. It's just like taking you guys along to a specialist's doctor's appointment with me!!

This is ACTUAL FOOTAGE of me trying to advocate for myself at the doc's... in the middle of a park somewhere. With large eyes. In cartoon format. So, damn near completely accurate.

Let's see if she works:





Not nearly enough cursing, is there?

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Fergie, Dog Poop, World Going To Hell

Yes, seemingly obscure title, but these things are all somewhat related. 

First off, as much as I want all new blog visitors to read my naked threesome invite experience in the post below, I can't sleep and decided I should make another post since I can't do much else if I want BF to stay sleeping.

Second - For those not in the know, we have a great dane. A great dane is big. A great dane eats a lot and, consequently, poops an awful lot.

For some reason, my brain has automatically, without fail, associated picking up dog poop in the yard with Fergie's smash hit* "Glamorous". I will be out in the back yard (probably in pajama pants, braless, and in an ill-fitting-but-hopefully-clean sleep shirt). Go ahead and hate. I know you'z jealous.

I just saw the music video now, and I realize I wouldn't even be cool enough to attend the "pre-glamorous" kegger.

I will consistently forget to wear a headband or hat to keep my damn, unwanted bangs off my forehead, further challenging me to locate said dane poop while not brushing my hair aside accidentally fouling my hair or face.

After the first scoop or two, Fergie's damn song floods my mind. At first I would chuckle at the irony/juxtaposition of it all, now I just hate my own brain. Thanks Fergie, thanks a pile.

Now, in addition to this, not only do I get slightly pissy because my life is not, in fact, at all glamorous and I am not living the fast life. Much to my chagrin, I will never be up in tha club, sippin' that bub with Lady Gaga any time soon. So I think (in my petty jealous fashion) about how previously meth-addicted Fergie got to be so rich, famous and (unfortunately) influential on today's youth.

I know I am getting old(er) and cranky(ier) when I start thinking about texting language, the lack of sentence structure and grammar, the general decline of today's youth to spell real words, and the mass dependence on spell-check.

Mind you, I capitalize where I shouldn't, I will put a comma damn near ANYWHERE (I love those little spermy bad boys) and I don't claim to be any higher writing authority.

But peeps - the world is going to hell. Between lol-speak on lol cats (love the pictures, feel like a tool trying to talk that way... maybe I will get the hang of it, even though I don't really want to) and texting, 

Like - I M gettin soooo mad @ kidz who r nvr usin proper sntnces. Fergie is not helping me here, furthering this trend and making English teachers everywhere cringe.

Fergie:

Case #1: Song - "Fergalicious" - quote : 

"It's so tasty, tasty, It'll make you crazy. T, to the A, to the S-T-E-Y, girl you tasty.

World is going to hell: Those astute readers out there will note THERE IS NO E IN TASTY!

Case #2: Song - "My Humps" - quote: 

"I'ma get, get, get, get, you drunk,
Get you love drunk off my hump.
My hump, my hump, my hump, my hump, my hump,
My hump, my hump, my hump, my lovely little lumps (Check it out)

World is going to hell: Dammit all to hell... "I'ma"? Seriously? Really? Seriously?

"My hump, my hump my hump my hump" should only ever be spewed out of the mouth of a camel. A talking camel. And even then only twice! Not by my then-7-year-old niece (to my horror).

Case #3: Song - "London Bridge" - quote:

How come every time you come around my London London Bridge wanna go down like 

London London London, wanna go down...

World is going to hell: Read all potential definitions here, if you dare. But let's just say, none of it is fit for an adolescent.

*I don't think that was a smash hit, I was just being sarcastic (shocking, I know).

And no, I am pretty sure that my curse-filled blog that I spell check every time before publishing has no negative impact on anyone, anywhere. And no, I don't have some of these songs on my MP3 playlist. And no, of course I would ever want Fergie's six pack from one of those earlier Black Eyed Peas video. DUH.

Photo credit

Who you callin' a jealous beyotch? 

Whatever, I have to go clean up the yard....

p.s. Sorry this post is in multiple fonts, I can't figure out how to change it in Blogger, drop down menus be-damned.

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