It’s mah birthday, and these bitches made me cry.

But it was a happy cry.

 

I love y’all.

 

Click HERE and watch my birthday video!

Reasons I’ll Probably End Up Being a Crazy Cat Lady

So I’m pretty sure, in my old age, I’ll be one of those psycho hoarders with 210 cats. Or spontaneously combust one day.

1. I don’t get along with people. I’d rather sit alone in my house for a week, and end up with zero food in the house and eating plain noodles cause that’s all that’s left, than go out and interact with the public at large. I only forsee this getting worse the older I get.

2. I yell at the TV. The dogs are terrified of football season, and tend to hide in their crate on Sunday nights because, let’s face it, Mama’s done gone crazy.

3. I like to drink. A lot. Which leads me to think I’ll spontaneously combust.

4. Pranks are a second job for me. Well, if we’re being honest, The Job is a second job for me, and Prankstering is job numero uno. I’m happiest when I’m “getting” someone with something. BAM, BITCHES!

5. Football is awesome. You (as in, life partner, not YOU people) no likey football, me no likey your face.

6. I love pets. I just don’t love picking up after them. Which leads to mountains of fur piled up in the corners of the room that threaten me with death by pitchfork if I try and wander into their territory. Those little fuckers are vicious and malicious and a whole lot of other iciouses.

7. I turn into a homicidal raging rhinoceros once a month. It’s not pretty.

8. I laugh at my own jokes. I might even snort if it’s a real doozy.

9. I eat like a 12 year old. Unless people feed me, I’ll eat the same thing every day for a week and be completely indifferent to it. Hotdogs are awesome, mac n cheese is gourmet, and sometimes I’ll go all gourmet and shit and make curry. Now, I do know HOW to cook, I just don’t give enough of a shit to cook for myself. Meh. Whatever.

10. I have the maturity of a 12 year old. As you all can very well see.

 

So… Would you like to know more? I’m sure I could think of some more stupid/embarrassing things about me to share. Or, you could share some of your own cause EVERY ONE OF YOU are freaking magical!

 

Favorite Tweets this week (If you’re not following my posse, you really should, cause that shit’s crazy):

chemegirl: me tooooooo! like the saggy ballsack that was in SUCH a rush that he bumped a branch to get around me.. which soaked me.

SnarkleyStreet:  I am a Sporkly Unicorn!!! Sporkly Street! Spork Mistress!!!

Patrixmyth: You COULD drink beer for breakfast. You could do that in California too. My dad did. Wouldn’t recommend it actually.

oh_rachael: I AM SO PISSED THAT YOU HAVEN’T PISSED ME OFF RECENTLY. SERIOUSLY. FUCK YOU.

JenReinmuth: Insomnia…2:29am…sporks dancing in my head…fuuuuuuccccckkkkk!!!!!

I fucking love you people. FYI.

.

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Comment of the day (and trust me, I had a hard fucking time choosing):

From…. Jen! at portlandiamom.blogspot.com

“Feeling oddly compelled to take more (and highly inappropriate) spork-pics this week. For fuck’s sake, I live in the city that holds the ubiquitous distinction of hosting more brewpubs and strip clubs per capita than any other U.S. city so I should have something better than vegan food carts and Obama rallies to show for it!”

Jen, your comments fucking rock! Thanks for making me laugh every time I post!

Bring out your dead… er… I mean… send me some spork pics!

Hey so how fun would it be if you, my lovelies, went and took pictures with sporks and got featured on an awesomesauce post?

 

 

Here’s what we’ll do.

 

-You: go get a spork and a camera.

-Take some awesome motherfucking pictures.

-Email me at tazerwarriorprincess@gmail.com and send me said awesome pictures.

-Don’t forget to include a link to your blog in the email, cause y’all know I’m retarded and can’t remember that shit.

 

And then we have a sporktastic mishmash of awesome.

 

Sound like fun?

FYF: Pet peeves, made criminal

This week’s topic is as follows: You have the power to make your biggest pet peeve a federal offense. What is that pet peeve and how would you go about punishing those who commit said act?

 

Oh for fuck’s sake, really? ONE pet peeve? May as well ask me to keep ONE limb. Freaking useless.

 

God. I can’t pick! FUCK!

 

OK I’ll do five. I’ll keep it brief, loves, cause I’m fucking exhausted (I’m so sure you’re tired of hearing this…sorry!) and I want to veg out watching shitty TV and drinking beer.

1. Gum-smackers/poppy chewy gum chewers/mouth open eaters

I fucking hate you. HATE YOU. You, fuckers, will get a burlap sack, filled with rabid badgers, slammed against your offending mouth until you a) knock it off or b) have no more teeth to chew with.

2. CELL PHONE TEXTERS/TALKERS while in line/being helped in a business

I hate you too. Fuck off and die. First offense (assuming you’re obnoxious and don’t apologize for being on the phone) I take a fiery hot mallet to one of your fingers. You feel the burn??? FEEEEEEELLLL the BURRRRRNNNNN. Second offense? No more fingers motherfucker, I’m feeding them to a crocodile while you watch.

3. People who BREATHE on me

Go die. Oh wait… a punishment. I’m going to get an airhorn filled with FARTS and shoot it at you when you breathe on me. You want to know how gross it feels when you breathe on someone huh!??!?!? There ya go bitches.

4. Facebook and other miscellaneous internet narcissists

You know them… the ones that are all “ME ME ME I I ME I ME I MEEE MEEEE AWESOME!!!”. Yeah. You.

I’m putting these people in a dog crate, in a basement, and filling the basement with a thousand starving swamp rats. Let’s see you “like” that, douchenozzles!

5. Animal haters

I will cover you with soft fluffy kittens until you realize how god damn cute soft fluffy kittens are and become less of a waste of space.

 

The end. Yes, I’m a bitch.

A Spork-Tastic Day, Part Deux

So, as you know from the prior entry, we took Le Spork on a RADventure on Saturday, complete with pictures.

Well DBFF got sick of our shit, and let BFF and I go along our merry way. We were texting Skottikins at the time, and decided to take Le Spork to the local beach to see if we could get some awesome shots.

(Bee tee dubs, this is why I LURVE BFF. Cause even though what I just typed totally germinated in my own brain, she’s the one that suggested we do it. Mind skills, yo.)

Having a good tine (nerp)

Die, Pier, Die

YARRR nothing is prohibited!!!!

Irony, we have it

Beeeeeg rock.... little nom.

This is why they lost... cause I mocked them. Tear.

Wiley motherfucker.

I laughed so hard when we found this.

NO SPORKING!

Feeding the sticker on my car

Fishing with a pole is so last year.

We got bored and decided to take the Spork to the store, to see if there was anything awesome we could get it in a picture with.

The hell?

I'm so getting another hour of preacher channel for this one.

Pregnant? Here's a solution for ya

Nothing like sporking a stripper-cop's nads

Dolls are creepy

And, as a finale, THE best text convo ever.

Me: Are you propelling yourself to the border with your Diet Dew rainbow flatulism?

S: I just might. Wait. Is that a silver spork?

Me: You JUST NOTICED THIS???

S: Is that the silver spork that you were born with in your mouth?

Me: Why yes, yes it is. Quite trailer-y.

S: The picture becomes complete.

S: Where are you two? How has the security team not noticed the two Amazons taking pictures of the merchandise next to a silver spork, giggling like eight year olds at a Bieber concert?

…. later….

S: I’m trying to figure out if you and (BFF) are drunk, bored, or both

Me: This is our normal sober selves at work. Fucking genius.

S: Brilliant.

Me: If anything, we’re high on life topped with a caffeine twist.

Me: We’re dressing you in drag and kidnapping you so you can revel in our brilliance. Incognito.

S: I think I may have thrown up in my mouth. Just a little bit. Un poquito.

Me: How do you feel about a blonde wig?

S: I’m incognito, beyotch!

S: I use my left hand, I use my right hand, I’m amphibious, beotch!

Me: You made (BFF) laugh a fart out.

S: I’m standing right in front of you, but you can’t see me because I’m indivisible, beyotch!

S: You can’t hit me. My defense is impregnable, beyotch!

Me: Well yeah you don’t have a vagina. That I know of.

S: I don’t even know what that means but I heard Mike Tyson say that once. I don’t think Tyson has a vagina either.

Me: Well he sounds like a tranny….

Me: I think you’d win a beauty contest against Mike, though.

S: Lizterine, one. Logic, zero.
And that was how I rounded out my day.

Finito.

 

 

ETA: So like 7 minutes after posting this I’ve been scolded for “changing facts” because, according to S, “When we alter the factual verbiage, the terrorists win.” SO. When I said “vagina” in regards to Mike Tyson et al, I REALLY said Kooka. Like those bimbos on Jersey shore.

 

So there, Skottikins, so there. Retracted.

A Spork-tastic Day, Part UNO

Oh hell, where do I even start. This is going to be a two part delivery, because there’s simply too much awesome to contain in one post.
So last night BFF presented me with my birthday gifts. Here they are.

Canned Unicorn Meat, Titanium Spork, and a Stamp that reads "Thanks for being... You, An Asshole, Both"

Oh yeah. She knows me so well. The unicorn meat can, once opened, revealed a dismembered stuffed unicorn. I laughed so hard I snorted!

So BFF, DBFF (Dude is the D, for all y’all catching up), and I decide to take the Spork on a road trip the next day. We plan to drive up Highway 1, through Big Sur up to Monterey, and back. Oh yeah, Spork’s going on a motherfucking RADventure.

This is going to be picture heavy, so if you don’t like pictures… go away.

Anywhoo, we get a pile of coffee, energy drinks, and snacks, and roll the fuck on the road at oh-bright-thirty 9AM.

Highway 1, for those of you unfamiliar with California, is a twisty fucking road that scales the mountains bordering the Pacific Ocean, and pretty much is a 2 lane highway with sheer cliff dropoffs for many, many miles. FUN SHIT.

Our first potty break, and the Spork made it’s debut.

I can’t stop laughing and brandishing the Spork at random strangers. Yes, utensils are vastly entertaining.

I took about 3 “actual” pictures. Here’s one for you.

Ooooo.... purdy.....

No joke, kids, I live in fucking paradise.

Anywhoo, onward with more Spork.

(DBFF behind the Spork)

BFF dancing!!!

Back on the road!

Giggling like an 8 year old going to a Bieber concert, I “stab” my friends.

POKE. POKE.

STAB!

I’m laughing my ass off in the back seat, because A) they can’t see me and B) I can’t hear them over the WHOOSHING sounds. The sunroof is open, and I’m deaf to fucking begin with.

Look at our amazing weather!

We stop at the most kick-ass lookout point… I wish I had all the pictures, like the one with me and BFF posting with the spork while DBFF looked confused and weirded out by us, but some of them were on another camera and are currently waiting to get out of jail.

Bridge, YO!

Moar Bridge

Back on the road!

SNACK TIME!

So, like half the road is washed out at some points, but I didn’t stop to take pictures because the ground was whizzing by too fast, and I was too distracted with my spork to care. But really. They’re building this sweet fucking bridge so hopefully the road can continue on even when the coast decides to lose some weight and be ever closer to rejoining her eastern brethren.

And we arrive in Monterey.

I relentlessly wave my Spork out of the window, desperately hoping someone will notice it and laugh. They don’t. The most I got was an odd look from one of those sign twirler motherfuckers.

This cab made my LIFE. Yes, it’s real, no photoshop.

We found this restaurant

Fucking. Brilliant.

… and we decide to go eat.

The food…Oh my… the food. It’s brilliant. Delicious. YUMMMMM. We ate like pigs. The decor was AAAAHmazing.

Spork meets a cousin

Back on the road, Whole Foods was on the to-do list from DBFF, cause he’s a hippy like that. Seriously, what the fuck is with that store? I felt weird walking in without dreads and a cloud of patchouli vapor following me. I was too afraid to take Spork pictures, though, cause those hippies looked freaking vicious. DBFF got some weird hippy tea drink that smelled like assholes, but tasted OK. I didn’t buy anything. I was afraid of being infected with a love of weed. Rite-Aid seemed like a more appropriate source for me, so from Rite-Aid we picked up more caffeine and headed to Castroville for some fucking Artichokes.

The artichoke house was pretty awesome. They had all sorts of fun stuff, like roosters

BEYONCE, BITCHES

Nutella

And fartless Chili

Completely fucking pointless

The best part? The 12 for a dollar artichokes, and the GIANT painting on the wall, that was, shall we say, simply enormous.

BFF licking the artichoke

BFF and I have a mini dance-off party in the parking lot, while DBFF pretends like he doesn’t know us, and hides in the car while we’re booty shaking and singing some nonsense tunes in front of the artichoke shrine. We get bored and decide to rejoin DBFF, who’s basically snoozing in the car waiting for us to finish acting like idiots in public while random geriatrics stare at us.

At this point, we all piled back into the car like a pack of sleepy kittens, and struggled to get our second wind. We’d been on the road for 7 hours, and were pretty worn out.

Cue text messages from our favorite texting personality, Skottikins, who demands to know if the “nuclear melt-down sirens were activated upon our arrival back in home county”?

I dressed up as a terrorist for this occasion.

It's a turban, fuckers. Don't judge art.

So, upon arriving back in Le Paradise, we drop off DBFF, because in reality, trying to handle two of us is simply too much for one person in one day.

BFF and I continued our adventures…..

But you’ll have to keep reading to find out.

BWHAHAHAAA

Tazer’s guide on how NOT to get hired

In this tough economy, people’s need for a job is at an all time high. However, since some people are earning unemployment benefits and basically getting paid to do nothing, I figured I’d present a few tips on how NOT to get hired for any job you may be interviewing for. After all, who WOULDN’T want to get paid to sit on your ass and play Call of Duty all day?

 

1. Be late. Be very, very late. This shows employers how honest you are, because of course, you’re going to be late to work every other day, so why not show them your true colors?
2. Douse yourself in cologne/perfume. If their eyes are watering, you’ve done it right. They’ll never hear your answers through their raging headache.
3. Dress like you’re applying to be a five-dollar hooker on a corner in Las Vegas. The shorter the better. If your meat-sleeve is about to pop out, you know you’ve got a winner of an outfit on. Bonus points if your bra is hanging out of your shirt.
4. On the same track, if you’re a man… don’t brush your hair. Please, brushed hair is offensive. Rumpled shirts, khakis, and flip-flops put the finishing touch on your undesirable appearance.
5. Talk about children. A lot. Especially if you’re not applying for a job that is in teaching. Talk about how much you love them and want to please them. Make it awkward. They’ll eat it up.
6. When asked, “is there anything else you’d like to tell me about yourself?”, devolve into a senseless rambling about your extensive extracurricular activities. Bonus points go to anything dealing with drugs and partying.
7. Bring your kid along. Change her dirty diaper on the table. It’ll show them you’re family oriented.
8. Happily agree to a background check and drug testing. Feign surprise/horror when you come back positive. Celebrate with a fat doobie.
9. Avoid eye contact at all costs. If they look in your eyes, they’ll be able to steal your soul
10. Don’t smile. It gives them the upper hand and makes you look like a twatwaffle.
11.  Tell them about how you’re in litigations with your former employer. Badmouth bad boss, a lot. Drop a curse word or seven. Make sure the interviewer KNOWS how much you hate “the man”.
12. Show them how interested you are in the job: fall asleep.

 

Anyone have any fun horror stories to share about job applications and interviews?

Operating a motor vehicle in Southern California is a blood sport

Sunday, I decided to make a day trip down to the Los Angeles area from my peaceful, costal home in San Luis Obispo county. Now, I’ve been down there once before, but having spent most of my driving years in small towns and rural areas, it never ceases to amaze me how crossing county lines can completely change the way people drive. Suddenly Granny turns in to Rambo the Hosebeast, and your average housewife is a serial killer.

Driving down Highway 101, once you cross through Santa Barbara, it becomes a “hide yo’ kids, hide yo’ wife” highway. Driving laws as we know them are suddenly obliterated, and “L.A.” laws commence. Here’s a few things I (re)learned today.

1. The left lane, in fact, is not for passing. Nay, the left lane is for the self-proclaimed “King Turds of the Road”, who hog it with their oversized SUVs, and will speed up/slow down to retain possession of the lane.

2. Blinkers are for pussies.

3. There is no such thing as driving a set speed. Rather, you’re required to zoom forward and then randomly slam on your brakes arbitrarily. This causes traffic to fluctuate speed anywhere from 45-95MPH.

4. Any space larger than 6″ between you and the bumper of the car in front of you is an invitation to be cut off. Because, staying a safe distance away from the car in front of you when everyone keeps slamming on the breaks while going 90MPH is a bad idea. Very bad idea.

5. Speaking of spaces… no need to check other lanes when changing, just go for it. Fuck it, they’ll move. Oh and the more times you can change lanes during the course of your trip, the more points you score. Cause y’all drive like it’s Mario Cart down there. Yeah boy!

Dear god. It really is a fucking free-for-all different world down there.

 

Funniest shit I saw on my trip? This guy:

Now, I’m sorry the picture is such a piece of crap, but I was afraid if I got any closer to take the picture I’d a) crash or b) get shot by the gang banger driving the truck. See, this dude was a BIG mofo, looked like he was in the Crips or something… but really, he had a motherfucking UNICORN on the back of his truck. A unicorn and a big ass mean looking ninja dude that you can’t really see here. I almost swerved into another lane laughing so hard when he passed me.

 

I’m so sorry I’ve been neglecting y’all. As my darling commenter/reader/friend Richard keeps noticing…. when I have a bad/busy week, I hardly ever post. Work has been insane, I took my trip to LA yesterday, and have been working my tail feather off, no fun for me!

 

Any fun/terrifying horror stories from driving down there? Or any fun weekend stories?

FYF: Fix the National Debt

This week’s topic is as follows: Fix the US debt problem in ten simple steps. For those of you who will be participating in FYF and do not live in the United States, you may either use this topic or apply the same concept to a financial issue in your country.

Now, see, this should be easy. I’m going to choose to include OPTIONS instead of a step-by-step guide, cause I’m into Democracy and shit.

1. Invent a zombie virus. This way you kill off half of the population right off the bat, and can charge MORE taxes to the survivors for “subsidized protection”.

- Downfall… well half of us would be dead. Hopefully it’d be the stupid half.

2. Here’s a dumb one: LEGALIZE WEED. Come on, motherfuckers, really? It’s the Tickle Me Elmo of drugs. Nobody smokes dope and beats up their dog. Let the stoners be stoners, and either a) produce the weed and get the revenue, or b) taxes, dumbass! Problem solved.

-Downfalls… Well we’d have a lot more stoners in the world. And the smell. GAH. But hey, this is a non-made up option, so ner.

3. Let Canada buy us. Or Apple. Then it’s their problem, and yet nothing would change here. Except some “ehs” every once in a while and too many “i” prefixes.

4. Elect me Dictat..errr…. President.

4.5 And then I take over, do away with politicians, and rule with a gentle yet firm approach. Get your mind out of the gutter. Yes. You.

5. Jail time equals slave labor. Construction, crop picking, clean up crews, trench digging, sewer cleaning… whatever dirty, unappetizing job that we would usually pay people to do, we get the prisoners to do. Cost savings (and there’s less people, remember, so we don’t have to worry about a job crisis), things get done, and hell, prison is suddenly aversive to the general population, so we’d have… less prisoners. YAY!

6. In that vein, figure out a way to blow us off of the continent so we can be an island. No more border wars, no more drug smuggling (because now the good ol’ USofA is in control of the weed, yo), and no more immigration brouhahah. YES.

7. Reinstate feudalism. Well, not the dark ages type feudalism, but instead of welfare, require states to “tithe” to the mother country. Define tithe, you ask? Pick your specialty. CA  can send weed and hair dye. Nevada can send prostitutes and booze. Utah can…uh… send children. See? Where there’s a will, there’s a way, people. Get your heads out of your asses. Not you my love readers, just the “YOU”.

8. Flat taxes, anyone? Why should the uber-wealthy and MASSIVE corporations get ridiculous lumps of cash back from the Guvhment every year?

9. Do the FUCK away with corporate “rescue” bullshit. Real life is sink or swim, bitches, ain’t nothing “too big to fail”. Unless it’s whales.

10. 50% tariffs on Hollywood crap? YES.

What do you people think? Any crazy/made up ideas you have that can add to this list?

I only ask that you keep the angry, super left/right/actual BS out of the comments. It’s a humor blog, and meant to be humorous. Let’s keep political bickering out of it, please. Thanks for reading!

Things you can find on the internet, part Deux

Well, I’m exhausted, mentally drained, and in no mood to be funny so I signed up with Stumble Upon to find some INTERNET GOLD. I figured, why not, let’s share! Plus, I feel like I’ve been neglecting all of y’all lately, and this makes me sad. Unfortunately, I need to make money to replace all of the shit my dogs eat every week, so it’s unfortunate, but I have to work. Presenting: More shit that is weird.

Baby slippers. Because really, who WOUDLN'T want to feel like they're stomping on babies? Really!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Man to Man : Gay Attraction Body Mist 2 Oz

Product Features

• Irresistable, Unforgetable, Hot, Sexy, Subtle Gay Scent
• Get the Man of your dreams.
• Draws Gay Men to you, your home, and business.
• Great help to get dates and bring man to you.
• Natural Aphrodisiac Aromatherapy

Bizarre Tongue-Eating Parasite Discovered Off the Jersey Coast

Ceratothoa imbricata, the South African relative of the parasite discovered off the Jersey Shore. Photo Credit: Dr. Nico Smit Proof the Jersey Shore is a pimple on the ass of the good ol' USofA. Now, if only a parasite would eat Snookie et. al's tongues. PLEASE!!!

Hold the fucking phones. SINCE WHEN do bears have six legs? Man-Bear-Pig? Nay, this is Bear-Arachnid-Eatsyourasshole.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Excerpt from Yesterday's Tomorrows: past visions of the American future, by Joseph J. Corn and Brian Horrigan; Summit Books (1984), page 83. The actual item is from a 1950 issue of Popular Mechanics. Waterproof home: Because your House-Bitch will still be wearing a pencil skirt and frilly apron in the year 2000.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Anyone got any happy pills? I’m fucking over this week already.