In which we visit a psychic.

In the spirit of Halloween….

The muumuus were requested as a presence at a party on Saturday night.

BFF and I decided to shake things up and get new muumuus, and rocked some sporting leopard print ones. They were shiny. I liked them.

Going to the party was pretty boring, so we’ll skip over that part.

So BFF and I were rolling around the Touristy Beach Town at meh, about 1AM, and spotted a Psychic/Palm Reader place that had their “Open” sign still up.

Conversation went something like this:

BFF: OHMYGODLETSGETOURPALMSREAD!!!!!!!! *slams on brakes*

ME: What the hell?

BFF: THEY’RE OPEN!

ME: Again, what the hell?

BFF: C’mon. Chickenshit.

ME: This looks like a crack den.

BFF: Scared?

ME: DUDE. They’re going to murder us and sell our organs on the black market. Seriously?

BFF: SERIOUSLY.

ME: Well fuck, why not. I don’t like my kidneys anyways.

BFF: Text BFFD in case we die.

ME –> BFFD, text. “In case we go missing, we are going to get our palms read at some crack den in *town*. The end.”

BFFD: WTF? HUH?

 

We walk up to this place, which I’m convinced is an underground meth lab slash crack den slash body parts dealership, and ring the bell. This lady comes out to open the door and, apparently, she lives there and forgot to put the closed sign up, but is willing to do our palm readings. SWEET! Keep in mind, we are in shiny leopard print muumuus and totally rocking it. Oh, and it’s past 1AM. This lady’s got balls. Or a machete.

I sit in the chair next to her, and she proceeds to awkwardly stare at my right hand while I sit as still as possible and try so hard not to giggle. She starts off by letting me know that she sees a very long life ahead of me and predicts I’ll live to be 88 (damnit, I was hoping for a verdict of spontaneous combustion).

She then goes into relationships. Are you married? Uh…. no. In a relationship? Most definitely not! Recently separated? Well if you count 2 years as recently…. She then went on about me building barriers regarding dating and love (true, but very general) and said she sees a big change for me in the upcoming year (please let it be both career and love life. PLEASE!) I guess she saw the name “Stephen” in my future and 2 kids so hey, maybe there’s hope if some batty psychic says so!

The only thing that really struck home was the discussion about health. She pointed out that I’d been worried about my health recently, but had put it behind me (yeah, having major surgery counts) and am worried about someone close to me, as well (most definitely). So, maybe she was on to something.

I’m not entirely sure that I believe in this stuff, but this time, with at least one key point, it hit home, and I am really intrigued to see if anything else in her prediction comes true!

Hey Steve, get yer butt over here and find me!  :-D

 

Anyone have any fun exciting Halloween stories to share? Or psychic experiences?

Don’t teach your pet to IM

This post is inspired by something I read somewhere (yes, so descriptive, that’s me) that I can’t fucking remember where to find it so if you know where it is… lemme know and I’ll give props. It made me laugh. Something about Rick and caps lock. I’m too lazy to Google it.

So anyways, the difference between cats and dogs. The age old conundrum. The timeless rivalry. Oh yes, the two most commonly kept pets in the U.S., and yet so different in personalities. Yep. Wait. Except mine. My cat thinks he’s a dog.

This is my hypothetical scenario, in which I teach my pets(Cyrus-dog, Kona-dog, Stewie-cat) to use instant messenger.

 

—10:01AM

Cyrus: MOM!!

Cyrus: MOM!!

Cyrus: MOM!!!

Cyrus: MOM!!!

Cyrus: MOM!!!!!

Cyrus: MOM!!!!!

—10:03AM

TazerWP: What, damnit.

Cyrus: I miss you. You’ve been gone for so long.

TazerWP: Dude. Fucking seriously. Calm down. I’ve been gone for 2 hours.

Cyrus: I MISSSSS YOUUUUUUUUUU

TazerWP: Shut. UP.

Cyrus: Please come home, I’m dying.

TazerWP: Seriously, fool, would you like to keep getting food? Cause if I don’t work you ain’t getting fed.

Cyrus: We can eat rice.

TazerWP: Um, rice costs money too.

Cyrus: …..

—10:32AM

Kona: MOMMMM

Kona: MOMMMMM

Kona: Make him shut UPPPPPP.

Kona: I’m gonna kill something.

Kona: Maybe myself.

Kona: Make it stop.

—10:37AM

TazerWP: What the fuck is going on over there?

—10:43AM

TazerWP: HEEELLLLOOOOOOOOO??!??!?!!

Stewie: HALP!

Stewie: HALP!

Stewie: MAMAMAMAMAMAMAMAMAMAMAMAMAMAMAMAAAA

TazerWP: Woah. WTF is going on?

Stewie: eowirghin;cnre985y342

Stewie: ;eeoirghriu9845394857924hreiugbfjnblkgrh;rhit;ij58t8945

TazerWP: It’s a keyboard, cat, not a bed.

Stewie: HAPOEROHINBG

Stewie: MEA ERGEHRIE3904GHKFJBNN

TazerWP: I’m signing off.

Stewie: MUM SHE’S SQUISHING MEEEE

Stewie:!!!!!!!!!

—10:54AM

Kona: Whatever. That cat is so full of shit. Nothing to see here. Move along.

Kona: You know the cat lies.

—11:23AM

TazerWP: Seriously, I try and leave you fuckers to go to work, like I do EVERY FUCKING DAY, and this is what you do??

TazerWP: I don’t even love you anymore.

TazerWP: ARE YOU BURNING DOWN THE HOUSE RIGHT NOW!??!?!?!?!

TazerWP: God damn it.

—11:38AM

Cyrus: MOM.

Cyrus: MOM!

Cyrus: MOM!!!!

TazerWP: OH dear lord.

Cyrus: I’M HUNGRY!

TazerWP: No you’re not.

Cyrus: EXPIRINGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG

Cyrus: RIGHT NOWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW

Cyrus: FEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEED MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE.

TazerWP: Enough with the theatrics, dog.

Cyrus: MOMMMMMMMM

Cyrus: MOMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM

Cyrus: MOMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM

Kona: Jesus fucking Christ. Why did you ever give this asshole computer access?

Kona: Mom?

Kona: MOM?

Stewie: 30o92wey8ghribjkn;dorfa;eirhgelifubg iruhg9e84t982343489289tyghbvifjdaaaa

—12:37PM

TazerWP: Hello?

TazerWP: What the fuck, animals.

–1:22PM

Kona: Mother.

—1: 56PM

Kona: Mother.

—2:38PM

Kona: MOTHER.

—3:15PM

TazerWP: Seriously?

TazerWP: I told you fuckers I had a meeting.

—3:23PM

TazerWP: Animals?

TazerWP: Jesus Christ tap dancing on a whale. You fucking idiots.

—4:56PM

Stewie: Mum. MUM. Please. Come home.

TazerWP: CAT. SERIOUSLY. WHAT THE FUCK.

—5:42PM

TazerWP: Fuck you guys.

TazerWP: Worst day ever.

TazerWP: Taking the laptop to work with me, now.

Stewie: odifbhdlegiro;i94583290r8wyeaghdfibn948er5g3984hqp938hbp98hvp948grtghhhh

TazerWP: My point, exactly.

 

 

 
EDITED TO ADD: Nope, not too fucking lazy. Yes I used The Google’s magic to find this fool, but mostly because IM went out of style like 8 years ago and I have no idea what an IM conversation would “look” like anymore. Click HERE if you want to read the original.

 

 

 

 

 

 

You know what’s stupid?

So, do you?

 

Slow cookers.

Seriously, what the fuck?

Now, I get that some people love them, and I went and bought one because, on principle, the little fuckers sound like a really good idea.

However, I forgot a few key points in my psychology that make using what was originally intended to be a useful household appliance into sheer torture.

1. Fire. I’m terrified of a house fire. Therefore, I am completely unable to leave the slowcooker in the house unattended. I just *know* that if I do it’ll become possessed and burn the house down. Probably with my animals inside.

2. If I put the thing on overnight, for lunches the next day, there’s no way in blistering hell I’m going to get up in time to prep anything. So really, it’s just a waste. I’m lazy.

3. Patience is not one of my virtues, in the slightest way. So for me to have to put something oh-so-delicious in the pot to be cooked 8 FREAKING HOURS BEFORE DINNER makes me crazy. Instant gratification is much better, which is why hot dogs are often considered a suitable meal.

 

I’m sitting here obsessing over the barbacoa beef with chipotle blah blah I put in the thing at like 10AM. It. SMELLS. AMAZING. And I want it NOW goddamnit! But no, I have to stay home and make sure the stupid thing doesn’t spontaneously combust, and I have to wait here for it to finish and suffer through the tantalizing fumes.

That, and my football team FUCKING SUCKS AGAIN because fucking Campbell had to break his fucking COLLARBONE and Boller is a piece of shit and Palmer isn’t much better!  GAH!

Yep. Today has been weird. And I hate CrockPots.

The end.

Spork me?? Spork YOU!!

OK so remember back in the day when I asked for submissions for a collaborative spork picture post?

That day hath arrived. Be warned.

These are from a few of my very favorite ladies and gents, and there are a few more coming so we’re going to do a part 1 and part 2 post as the submissions keep rolling! If you’d like to see your very own spork featured in the next post, email me at tazerwarriorprincess@gmail.com! The dirtier/crazier, the better!

 

 

Without further ado, some of the best awesome you’ll ever see.

Ever seen that movie, "Teeth"? Yeah, Google that shit. WIT, you fucking rock. Get a link, YO!

I need this one.

LiLo, of LilScorpioSweetie, had some pictures to share!

I. FUCKING. WANT. THESE.

Utili-spork!

Pack o' utilisporks.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Lovely Jen, of Portlandia Mom , jumped right on the challenge and sent me a bunch of pics the same night the challenge was issued.

Peekabooooo

Mmmmmmmm

Schmart Schpork

Bottoms up, buttercup!

"On the set of 'Leverage'. Fear the spork, Timothy Hutton. Tim Hutton looks like he's not sure whether to call security or walk over and tell me how fucking rad I am. . .well, actually its probably the former, but I've deluded myself to the point that I believe the latter. "

From Jen: “Oh Hell to the fuckin’ YEAH!!!!  Hope it makes up for the fact that I couldn’t find a stripper who would “man up” to the spork.  Goddamnit; I live in the one city with more strip clubs and microbreweries per capita than any city in the U.S. of oddamn A. and I can’t find ANY stripper willing to straddle a spork?  Pfft!!!!  That shit ain’t right. . .”  HAHA this is why I love this bitch!

Next up is Mr. Social Assassin, who is fucking HILARIOUS, and had some really… uh… different outlooks on the spork.

Look, water!

I think British sporks are cooler than US sporks. Much sharper.

Freaking British sporks are SHINIER, too!

Hello Mr Lizard...

Shameless self promotion, we like it!

BOOBIES!

Next up we have the HAWT Satan, who of course rocks.

Cat says "Oh no she di'int"

Someone went on a Sporking Spree....

Speaking of the Sporking Spree...

Whut whut!

Ding Dong SPORK.

Spork wants some shiny things

 

Casinos are sins. HA!

 

Lucky Spork.

RIDES! YES!

 

Time for fun!

Naughty Sporky

 

Spork is compensating for something.

 

Time for a snack....

 

 

Shameless self promotion, we like it!

 

"Stop drinking all my latte, Sporky!"

 

More? Snack snack

 

And my favorite... Good Spork v Bad Spork

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Misty, of Misty’s Laws, took her assignment very seriously!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A Very Muu Muu Evening

So today was a day of fucking ridiculous awesome shenanigans. As always. And it’s documented. With pictures. DUH!

BFF and I decided to go do things. What things, you ask? Well, the plan was as coherent as “Hey I’ll come over to your house and we can go into town.” Swell! This has all the makings of ridiculousness.

So we get in the car. Yes I’m being very literal. We get in the CAR.

Alright I lied. About the literal part. That would bore you.

Anywhoo, we go to our faaaaaavorite store ever, which is full of goody gag gifts and WONDERFUL awesome things. I got this hat.

It has BAT WINGS, YO!

I tried to make BFF buy this sticker for her truck, but no dice (cause it’s too true…)

TRUTH.

We got some stuff. Like my stripey black and green witch socks that you’ll see later on. But this is not the point of this blog entry.

So after going thrift-storing (yes, that’s a verb), onward to WAL MART! Wal Mart, though evil blah blah, has some pretty fucking rocking shit.

Case in point.

Yes. that's a fucking Muu Muu

Being the Klassy ladies that we are…

Oh wait there’s more to the story. So BFFD has been trying to coerce me to go to the bar all day. I don’t really want to go to the bar, I’m having too much fun playing in Wal Mart with BFF! But then, I spied the muu muus. My side of the story says that BFF and I spied the muu muus at the same time, but the Amazwins have differing opinions on the subject. She gives me full credit for the awesome that was our BAR COSTUMES.

We debated back and forth whether to get the same ones or not, but we settled on being matching, cause we often get accused of being twins, so why the fuck not.

We joined BFFD at the bar, with muu muus on (and me in the socks). The look on his face when we walked up was eleven kinds of priceless… Going from “Who the fuck is waving at me” to “Oh shit” in 3.2 seconds. I’m pretty sure he looked for somewhere to run, but it was too late because we spotted him first.

We went into the bar, and were promptly accosted by several people wanting to know what the occasion was for our outfits. Well… “It’s Saturday!” with a big psycho grin is what I told people.

Photo op started!

Fuck Dresses, we OWNED that place!

BFFD was a little tipsy to begin with.

The Trifecta

Met a random stranger who wanted to be famous with us…

He's not really touching our boobs. Promise. I don't think he even likes boobs, honestly.

We don’t have a picture of this… but we attempted an Amazwin piggy back ride for a picture, but those motherfucking muu muus are SLIPPERY and BFF and I ended up toppling over onto the bar floor. Sober. It was awesome, cause all the drunkies were amazed that the two sober people in the bar were falling down. Good times.

We got tired of the bar so we decided to bounce and go find better things than a flamer from LA to take pictures with.

Bear Stuff

Look Ma No Hands!!!!!

People walking past us tried desperately to avoid direct eye contact, in fear that our insane would be contagious.

Havin a bebe?

Into the Wild

Trouble right here!

It looks like a Penis

That bear molested me.

Ride 'em Cowgirls!

We had another encounter with a raving fan (read: drunk as shit girl who wanted in on the action)

The brilliance, it attracts strangers

Bear love.

We exhausted options on taking pictures with the magical metal bear, and wandered off deeper into town to see if there were more things to take pictures with.

This sign was awesome…

Only one way driving on this end.....

Naughty pavement.

Naughty pavement's cousin, naughty construction cone

This chair sucks.

It's Tinkle Time!!!!

My dear, I believe you are sending mixed signals.

Pimp THIS ride.

Sober Amazwins wandered back to the shit-tastic bar, to pick up BFFD from his night of drunken shenanigans. Since he may or may not read this blog, I’ll refrain from posting details that would be… sensitive… but let’s just say there was a lot of random nonsense. Favorite quote from Captain McDrunkey?

Me- “C is that your phone going off?”

BFFD- “No. You made it”

Me- “???? What?”

BFFD- “No, it’s not my phone. But it is my ring tone, Mr Jazz. Turn it up!!!”

Me- “uhhhhh… I don’t have your phone?”

BFFD- “WHAT! Am I too good for the radio???”

 

The best part? Walking into my house and having both dogs charge me, growling, with hackles raised, because they didn’t like the muu muu or the hat.
And this is why I have decided that being sober is so much more fun than getting drunk. Muu Muus, bear stuff, pictures, and a full memory of it all.

Um. Shit?

Well the day has come. Noa FREAKING Gavin put my little blog on Funny Bitch Friday.

 

The problem?

 

I haven’t written in three weeks!

May I please offer an excuse?
Working 60 hours a week, six days a week, for three weeks really sucked the mojo out of me.

But that’s done! And I’m back! And I’m feeling pressure to entertain so I’d like to go back to a traditional Fuck You Friday post, in honor of my award. Please, pat me on the head. Yep. I’m awesome. Also, I’m hoping to get in some shenanigan time this weekend so I’ll have plenty of stories!

OH. AND. I’m going to do the collaborative spork picture post next week, so LAST CALL FOR SPORK PICTURES!!!!! Just send me them at tazerwarriorprincess@gmail.com. Include a link to your blog or whatever you want pimped out, and I’ll shoot you a quick email when I post it.

 

To the crick in my neck, FUCK YOU! Walking around with a pinched nerve and the inability to move my head in one direction is driving me berserk. I’m 25 not 95!

To work: FUCK YOU (temporarily). I’m SO happy to be OFF for THREE MOTHERFUCKING DAYS! BAM! And on the plus side I’ll be happier to go back to work on Monday and won’t feel the urge to commit homicide. Maybe. Probably.

 

To the weather: BIG FUCK YOU! It’s HOT and I don’t have air conditioning! 103* yesterday? Piss off.

 

Aw man I’m actually really freaking happy today, so this is a suck-tastic FYF! Yay life!

 

Thank you  Noa for the recognition, I feel all warm and fuzzy! You rock, you OG Funny Bitch! Thanks for spreading the love!

 

To all you new readers just stopping by, say HEY on the TWITTER if you want @tazerwp or leave a comment. I’m a total comment whore. I’ll love you forever. I might even attempt to steal your shrubbery in adoration. Cause I’m cool like that.

Also, anyone can send in spork pics, so please, the more the merrier. I’ve got some really awesome ones already, can you beat them?

 

 

 

In Which I Decided to Kidnap a Ficus

You know what’s great? Best friends.

You know what makes best friends great? Randomly being kidnapped.

So last Saturday (I know, shut up, thanks for coming back…) I was informed that I would be kidnapped that evening. No details were provided to me, even when I begged to know if there was some kind of dress code, cause, a girl’s gotta do, right? So anyway, no one told me shit, so I decided it would be prudent to wear my yoga pants, since the last time we did random I ended up peeing on the beach and let’s just say, yoga pants make peeing in sand in the pitch black much, much easer. This was accompanied by my Awesome Shirt and a GIGANTIC sweatshirt, because I was feeling like a bum, and flip flops.

Well, we went to the bar. Ta da! Awkwardly dressed award for me!

Anywho, I got some dranks.

Stop Judging Me

This bar is pretty awesome (for my limited experience). It has a patio in the back that has it’s own little bar, and doesn’t BLAST MUSIC LIKE EVERYONE IN THE BAR IS DEAF WHICH IS PRETTY MUCH WHAT YOU’LL BE IF YOU GO TO THE OTHER BARSSSSS!!!!

Sorry, I digress.

So the bar is awesome, and I’m feeling weird, and I have a spork.

And there’s a tree.

A very pretty tree.

I must have it.

It must be mine.

Miiiiiine.

My Preciousssss

I must get to know the tree, and decide if it’s awesome enough to risk a misdemeanor for.

Arr, this tree be pretty cool

Must court it, and make sure it wants to come home with me.

Magically, friends started to appear out of nowhere! And by friends, I mean people I’ve never met who wanted to play with the tree too.

This guy... yessss

Hey look, the crazy lady found something fun to do!

And then… it started. That itch. That overwhelming need to…. STEAL SHIT!!!!

Yes, folks, I’m a thief when I get drunk. I take things. I take stupid things, but I acquire them through nefarious means, with no regrets.

But, how does one go about dragging a 5.5′ tree through a packed bar without getting their asses kicked by the bouncers, you ask?

Well, I tried.

Unnnggh, this shit's HEAVY!

Stupid tree!

Maybe if I stuff it in my shirt, they won't see it......

The tree had no intention of joining me on my magical journey, sadly. Maybe next time. We’ll have to go on an “off night when there aren’t bouncers at the door.

I LOVE THIS BITCH!