*tap, tap, tap*

Is this thing still on?

Pass the Depends please…

3 decades. 30 years. 10,950 days.

No matter how creative you get with the math, 30 simply isn’t 29.

As you can see Here I dealt with 28 with the deepest level of grace and modesty. There is no link for my 29th birthday as during those months total hell was breaking loose. And now we come to 30.

Needless to say I’m not happy with the latest turn of events. It’s official, as of the 19th regardless of how I say it I won’t be able to say, “I’m 20 something”. That just plain sucks. Most of the people I have relayed my current dilemma to don’t get what the big deal is, “So you’ll be thirty, what’s the problem?” Thirty for a woman, this woman anyway, is a big scary monster. By far worse than anything I could have dreamt up was stalking me, laying in wait under my bed as a small child. Nope, this is HUGE. I won’t be “in my twenties” anymore and that bothers me. To hell with growing old gracefully, unless you consider kicking, screaming, cursing and wailing “Dear God WWHHHYYYY!!!???” graceful.

Dinner for 10 (small villages)...

So my menu is less than traditional but who gives a crap? My guests will just have to understand 4 simple truths- 1/ It’s the holiday’s, I’m busy. 2/ It’s better than nothing. 3/ They’re welcome to feast on my craptastic always entertaining festive attitude. And 4/ There’s no bill at the end of the meal.

~Whore derves~

Awesome Pumpkin Spice Graham crackery dip (that I’m going to claim I made from scratch) to put on cookies - Check
Nilla Wafers and Ginger Snaps - Check
800 Deviled Eggs - Check
Enough sliced cheese to constipate an elephant - Check
Loads of those little “designer” crackers (that’ll make everyone think I’m classy) for cheese - Check
Triscuits (loaded with fiber- insert evil laugh here) and Wheat Thins in case people hate designer crackers - Check

~Mains & Sides~

Turkey - Check
Ham - Check
Metric ton of Stuffing - Check
5 gallons of Gravy - Check
Canned Yams (but I'm going to say I picked them myself) - Check
That Cranberry flavored gel crap in a can - Check
4 billion red potatoes for homemade mashed taters - Check
Boots to mash taters - Check
Creepy Cheesy broccoli rice casserole (that I’ll probably hate) - Check
Dinner Rolls - Check
Sweet Potato casserole - Check

~Dessert~

Pineapple Upside Down Cake - Check
Cupcakes - Check
Peach Pie (I’m also claiming I made from scratch) - Check

~Extras~

First Aid kit - Check
Pepto Bismol - Check
Prep H - Check
911 on speed dial - Check
Alibi - Check


Now I'm really poor. Happy Thanksgiving, you're not getting shit for Christmas!

Hell hath no fury like an Aza scorned!

Who needs Karma when you’ve got Aza on your side?

The last few weeks have been a bit of a whirlwind. As some of you may know Kojak, my bestest friend in the whole wide world is going through one hell of a vicious divorce. His former bitch is trying to take him for everything he’s worth. She apparently thinks a 7 year marriage with no children and no property constitutes 3K a month for the rest of her life. Think again, bitch! Aza’s on the case!

So long story short she’s been playing the “I’ve got mysterious illnesses and can’t work” role. Every time she’s showed up to court she’s not worn a bit of make-up and looks like soft serve shit. Yet behind the scenes she has been working and playing. The playing part is where I come in. She’s been bar hopping, shopping and vacationing all over the place for the last year now. All this time she’s been claiming she’s at deaths door and cashing a 3 thousand dollar alimony/temporary needs check, slowly dragging out this divorce killing Kojak financially each month. Heh, her friends and family have been taking pictures of these little outings. Lots of pictures. Pictures of her at parties, on vacations, at theme parks, during the holidays and all the while drinking like a fish in a good number of the photographs. These pictures were put on their myspace pages. Her myspace page as well as those of her friends and family are all set to private however the online slide show websites hosting the pictures posted to myspace are open for general viewing.

Sooooo, should you decide to get into a vicious nasty divorce with your spouse, lie your ass off about your health and screw them financially/emotionally for over a year- ya better make sure your retarded friends and family don’t post pictures proving you’re just fine. Ya also better be sure your spouse doesn’t have a friend with a computer that wants to see you crash and burn in hell.

To my dearest friend’s ex-wife- I hope you shit yourself on the stand when Kojak’s attorney brought out 60+ pictures of you acting like the completely healthy, white trash, gold digging whore you are. I also hope you shit yourself when your married lover (that recently dumped your stupid ass) was brought up on the stand and confirmed in testimony that you were just fine when the two of you went to New York and on that cruise.

So lots of other stuff going down but that's what I was most consumed with last week.

Another post about ta-ta's

Holy crap, I’m so sick of reading/hearing about politics I can’t see straight! That being said…

I think I’d like to talk about breasts for a moment. I, like every other woman on the planet am hyper critical of myself. I’m 5’5” and weigh a buck thirty, I’d really like to weigh a buck twenty. My nails are flimsy, I’d like them to be hard as, uh…, nails. My ass is dangerously close to being “smushy“, I’d like to bounce a quarter off of it. I’m a solid B cup, I’d like to have boobs that have their own zip code. But here’s the thing, I’m lazy. I could go to the gym that I’m currently paying a monthly membership to and drop the 10 pounds, take vitamins to make my nails stronger, do leg lifts to make my ass less borderline smushy and/or have surgery to make my boobs the size of New Jersey. But that would take effort on my part. More effort than I’m willing to dedicate. Although I see Quasimodo staring back at me if I peer into the mirror for too long; all in all, at first glance and a distance I’m not a bad looking chick. Not to mention, what I lack in looks I certainly make up for in personality. In person I’m funny. Really funny.

But anyway, back to boobies. As mentioned and on a few occasions pictured here on Surreptitious Psychosis, I’m a B cup. There’s nothing spectacular about them, they‘re not “ubber fabulous”. It’s just your everyday average, run of the mill, B cup rack. So about a month ago I’m listening to the radio and I hear a commercial for a “breast enhancing” OTC (that’s “over the counter”) that “increases your bust size by at least two cups sizes!” Something that takes virtually no effort on my part? Now that’s for me! Where do I sign up!? So of course I called and said “Yes, I heard your commercial and I’d like to super size my rack please!” A month has passed and I honestly can’t say the enhancer didn’t work. D seems to think they appear “fuller”. But lets face it, he’s a guy so all he’s really thinking is “Boobage!” I can’t really tell. Women naturally fluctuate by almost half a cup size in extreme cases during each month based on ovulation cycle, diet, water weight etc. Unlike a lot of men, we don’t whip out a measuring stick at every given chance. Also, contrary to popular male belief we don’t stand naked in front of a mirror staring at them and touching them at every given opportunity (sorry to burst the silicone filled bubble, guys). We check thoroughly once a month for lumps, bumps or changes (at least the smart among us do) and basically leave well enough alone.

Hell, I read a study that said 80% of all women in the US are wearing the wrong bra size! Just goes to show how “in touch” most of us really are. I guarantee you they’re not wearing bras that are too big. Our collective wreaked self esteem ensures that we’re wearing smaller bras because we really do believe our racks are smaller than they actually are/should be. Thanks for nothing to the ginornous boobied asswads at Cosmo! I take great comfort in knowing that when I’m 65 I’ll still have firm breasts perched upon my upper chest. When you’re 65 you’ll be sporting the “yeah, they were huge and fabulous when I was 25 but now they just look like an old nut sack” look.

So yeah, they seem a bit “enhanced” and yeah my braziers seem to be a bit more snug but that could be because I ate a piece of chocolate cake last week or I’m retaining more water than usual because of the “hotter than Hades” Florida heat or any number of other factors. I can tell you this, I sure as hell won’t be scheduling breast reduction surgery anytime soon because of this “miracle enhancer”. Then again I’m not going to say it didn’t do anything at all. The girls and I bonded during this experience. Now I can say, my breasts aren’t just guinea pigs for experimenting non FDA approved drugs on, they’re friends.

My Dad...

There are no words that could possibly express how much I love my dad. How much I appreciate all he sacrificed for the family. How badly my heart hurts for his loses. How high my spirit soars for his victories. How scared I get when he’s sick. How happy I am when he’s well. How much I wish the best things in life for him. So I’ll post a picture, since they’re worth a thousand words…

My mom took this picture on Christmas day in 1978. I was 6 days old. Those are my dad's arms holding me.




Now, 29 years later, we've traded hairdo's. Somehow I'm sure I had something to do with that.

Happy Father's Day!

It’s official

By purchasing my first set of golf clubs I’ve single handedly saved the game of golf. Because we all know how much it sucked before I came along. As your new golf leader I intend on enacting and personally enforcing the following rules…

1. Knickers and ugly pants were worn in the game over a hundred years ago. Unless you are one hundred years or older (cause then it’s just cute), take them off, they look ridiculous!

2. When you see me coming, get the fuck out of my way. Being 3 days older than Christ does not give you the right to play in less than slow motion.

3. Making fun of me or my kick ass girl golf clubs is a capitol offense. The sentence is, death by Aza’s 9 iron.

These new policies are effective immediately! How on earth can I justify rocking the very foundation on which golf was laid? What qualifies me as your new gold leader? It’s simple really, I am to golf what Dale Earnhardt Jr. is to basketball.

Seriously though, D plays, Kojak plays, everyone plays. I’m surrounded by golfers so while kicking and screaming in protest I finally cried “Uncle” and I got a set of chick clubs. I’m happy to announce that even though I gave in, I have no intention whatsoever of succumbing to the craptastic thrift store fashion made infamous by the game.

Kojak is quite the golfer so I’ve drafted him as my personal coach. Bless his heart, knowing that I have the temper of a Tasmanian devil in heat after being poked in the eye with a stick, he’s still willing to teach. Pray for him.

So in summary, when you see me on the LPGA tour or The Big Break launching all of my golf shit into the pond, getting into fist fights with my caddy Happy Gilmore style, knocking people out with my 450 yard putts, just sit back and enjoy the show.

It’s not a tumor and

No, I’m not a leper, it’s a zit. Thanks for asking, asshat!

UHG!!! I have a zit. Satan apparently impregnated my right cheek with an unholy spawn from hell the size of a 6 month old baby when I wasn‘t looking. It’s driving me absolutely freaking bonkers! I’ve tried ichthomol ointment, warm compresses and squeezing the ever loving Christ out of it. My efforts have only pissed it off and made it take up a stronger hold on my red, puffy and inflamed face. I’ve entertained the idea that maybe it’s not a zit. Remember the ol’ spider eggs story? It‘s been told a hundred different ways but they all have the same ending- they hatch. Here’s the way I heard it.

The short, short version in comma form…Girl wakes up with a small “zit” on her cheek, she is told to leave it alone as picking at it will only make it worse, “zit” grows itchy and somewhat painful, a few days pass, the “zit” is now huge and terribly uncomfortable (much like my current situation), mother suggests daughter take a hot bath and apply a compress, upon submerging in bath and within moments of applying compress her cheek erupts disgorging (I so dig that word!) thousands of tiny spiders. Hence, it was never a “zit”, a spider had laid eggs in her face.

So now I’m sure you understand why I want to take a scalpel and a dash of C4 to my face right now.

I'm Hit!

I have been tagged by Will Tone over at Brother In Blue with the “weird” meme. All I can say is, Dude, if I didn’t dig your blog, I so wouldn’t do this.

The rules are as follows: Simply link to the person who tagged you (see above). SHARE SEVEN WEIRD things about yourself (see below). Tag SEVEN bloggers to do the same AND include a link to their blog. Let each person know that they have been tagged and finally post the rules on your blog (that would be this paragraph).
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

1.) My best friend is a cop. I take tons of pictures of him and his coworkers. I plan on sending them to Fox with the request that they create a show called “World’s Most Shocking LEO Pictures” or “Cops Gone Wild”.

2.) I frequently make odd and strange noises randomly at home and in public.

3.) I’ve wrangled chickens. It’s a long story.

4.) I have a creepy obsession with the movie “Kung Pow!”, I chalk it up to my OCD.

5.) Kojak lives right next door to a fire station. When he first moved in I baked treats for them every weekend. After a few months he told me I wasn’t allowed to bake for them until they showed a little more appreciation for my efforts.

6.) I watch the NFL channel more than most men.

7.) I get incredibly car sick if I ride in the back seat, even for short distances.

If those aren’t enough, there’s always my first meme and if you are hankerin’ to know a butt load of weird things about me there’s my 100+ list.

So I’m tagging the following amazingly awesome super rockin’ bloggers…

Latté Girl @ Inner Dialogues
Eric @ The Noisy Cakehole
Tuna Girl @ Tuna Girl
Lushy @ Such A Pretty Face
Kilroy_60 @ Fear And Loathing- The Gonzo Papers

If ya don’t want to do it I’ll be super disappointed but I’ll totally understand. No pressure, right? If you’ve already done it, do it again with 7 new weird things. There are a few others I’d tag but they are lazy slackers, less likely to update their blogs than me (you know who you are).

Looks like the only time I post is when I’m sick

Here was how today was supposed to go….


5:00am- Get D off to work and go to sleep
10:00am- Get up
10:15am- Get dad up
10:30am- Get a shower
11:00am- Grab a snack
11:15am- Get ready for Kojak’s award ceremony
12:00pm- Boondoggle around
12:30pm- Start bitching at dad to get in the car
1:00pm- Leave for the award ceremony
1:20pm- Arrive at award ceremony
1:30pm- Watch Kojak get award
2:00pm- Get some lunch with dad and Kojak before his shift starts
3:00pm- Drop dad off
3:30pm- Head to Kojak’s house to straighten up and get some laundry done (while harassing his cats) before his tattoo guy comes over Tuesday
6:00pm- Come home
6:30pm- Decide what everyone wants for dinner
7:30pm- Get started on dinner
9:00pm- Feed everyone
10:00pm- Get started on chores around the house
1:30am- Check email and watch a movie
4:30am- Get ready for bed
5:00am- Sleep




Here’s how it has gone thus far…


4:10am- Post on my blog while listening my tummy serenade “Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap”
4:45am- Doze off feeling rather queasy
5:00am- D wakes me up as he’s getting ready for work. Feeling really queasy
6:00am- Sit bolt upright in bed. Bathroom, NOW!
6:15am- Lay back down, thank God it’s over
7:00am- Fall out of bed running for bathroom
7:15am- Lay back down, thank God it’s over
9:00am- Jump up and trip over cat running for bathroom
9:15am- Lay back down and pray to God that it’s over
10:00am- Tummy wakes me with odd noises
10:05am- More praying
10:10am- More praying
10:15am- Cat scratches the hell out of me when I jump up and run for the bathroom
10:30am- The cursing of the small bowel begins as prayers for it aren’t working
11:00am- Small bowel responds to said curses with a little curse of it’s own “Get to the bathroom, NOW!!!”
11:30am- Call Kojak
11:45am- Slam foot in cabinet while running to the bathroom
11:50am- Reset toe that is jammed up into my ankle
12:00pm- Kojak calls
12:15pm- It is decided that I will not be attending his award ceremony
12:30pm- Dad leaves alone for ceremony
12:45pm- Run from the living room to the bathroom destroying all in my way
12:50pm- Call D asking if he’s experiencing anything similar. Have to leave a voicemail
1:00pm- Kojak calls and I apologize for not attending. He says he’s had a similar tummy upset. I take comfort in knowing I’m not alone
1:30pm- Gingerly sip Boost
1:45pm- Decide to move into the bathroom as I’m sick of injuring myself running to it
2:00pm- Curse. A lot
2:20pm- Posting from my bathroom...

Random thoughts at 4:10 in the am

4:10 to Yuma totally pissed me off. Why couldn’t it have been "Quarter after Yuma"? That's a way more interesting title because it makes even less sense than the movie. Oh wait, it was "No Country For Old Men" that pissed me off. Nevermind.

How come more black people don’t play professional golf?

My tummy hurts. Bad. It must have been the butter, dill doesn't disagree with me like this.

I would buy a cheap set of clubs and learn to play golf if I weren’t so damned aggressive.

What in the hell am I going to wear to Kojak’s award ceremony today? This guy needs to give the whole “nominated for everything under the sun” thing a rest. They should just give him the most awesome cop ever award and be done with it because I’m running out of suitable award ceremony attire ideas here. Why can’t I just go in my standard garb- jeans and a tee or sweats and a tank?

The new wild cherry and mint crunch M&Ms just plain rock!

Geez, pizza sure would be good right about now.

If I had dentures I would totally intentionally gross people out with them. I’d think up new and creative ways to make people inadvertently touch them.

I have got to finish 1 or 2 of the 800 half written posts I have collecting dust in my documents file.

A little message I'd like to pass on to the IRS with my check...

I felt like you should probably know this…

I’ve been busy. VERY busy. Kojak posts more about what’s going on in my world than I do- so if you want an update, go check out his blog. I’m still here, among the living dead, just busy. VERY busy.

So when I stumbled across the below I felt that I should share this information immediately. This crap is vital!

Top 10 Useless Body Parts
By The Science Channel

When you're sick you may feel that certain body parts are more trouble than they're worth. And in some cases, you'd be right. While the human body has evolved and adapted significantly since the caveman days, a few biological traces of our prehistoric ancestors still remain with us in the form of freeloading body parts we lug around with us, but have no use for. Take a gander at the top offenders!

10. Plica semilunaris
You may not know it, but you have a third eyelid. Pull open the two more noticeable eyelids and take a look -- it's located right in the corner by the tear duct. This small third eyelid is left over from what's known as a "nictitating membrane," which is still present in full form in some animals including chickens, lizards and sharks.

9. Body hair
No doubt we were once hairier. Up until about 3 million years ago, we were covered with body hair. But by the time Homo erectus arrived, the ability to sweat meant we could shed our woolly ways.

8. Sinuses
Doctors don't really know much about sinuses -- only that we have a lot of them. Possibilities for their function range from insulating our eyes to changing the pitch and tone of our voice.

7. Adenoids
Adenoids trap bacteria, but they're also prone to swelling and infection. Just ask any 7-year-old. Luckily, our adenoids shrink with age and are often removed, along with ...

6. Tonsils
Also prone to swelling and infection. If you still have them when you reach your 30's, it's almost an accomplishment.

5. Coccyx
More useful as a game-winning Scrabble word than as part of the anatomy, the coccyx or tailbone, is made up of several fused vertebrae left over from the olden days when we had tails.

4. Arrector pili
When we were hairier (see No. 9), the arrector pili made the hairs stand on end when we needed to appear bigger and scarier. Now, it just gives us goose bumps.

3. Wisdom teeth
Back in the day, when we ate mammoth meat off the bone and didn't floss afterward, our teeth tended to fall out. Therefore, when those reserve molars, aka "wisdom teeth," came in, they were welcomed. Nowadays, fluoride and dental plans have made them just a huge pain.

2. Appendix
Darwin claimed the appendix was useful for digestion during our early plant-eating years; it's dwindled down to little since we started eating more digestible foods.

1. Male nipples
Because, why?

2 Freakin' Years!?

I started my blog 2 years ago today and all I can say is "Wow, what a waste of your time!"

Yeah, I'm here

So, Latté was all like “Hey man, you need to update your blog” and I was all like “Yeah but it’s so much more fun to hang around and harass you on yours. Plus, you have way more interesting stuff going on over here.” Then she was all like “Look, I’ve tried being polite about this but here’s the thing- It’s closing time. You don’t have to go home but you can’t stay here.”

Okay, so none of that really happened. But it was an exchange I’d imagine could have happened. Plus, it helped me start a new post.

Kojak is starting a blog. Actually, I’m starting a blog for Kojak as he has no real ‘net experience. In fact the only real computer experience he has is on the laptop in his cruiser when he's running your tag deciding whether or not you‘re going to go to jail for that hooker you locked in your trunk who managed to pop out your tail light and wave for help (or does that only happen to Dyck?). So as he patrols the city hopefully he will post about some of the funny shit he runs across or at least rant about that Mr. Ed fucked Tammy Baker lookin’ reject of a soon to be ex-wife of his.

His link is over in my sidebar (Glock N’ Cuffs) but I’m not going to officially start whoring his blog out until the template/design is done and he’s ready to start posting.

So there, I posted.

Because it’s gratis and it’s poop. It’s gratis poop!

Okay dear reader I’m offering you, yes you, a challenge. Because lets face it, I’m just to fucking lazy busy to squeeze something creative out.

I MUST have Gratis Poop!!!

But I want, nay, need your help…

So the folks over at I Love Chicken Poop.com are giving away free Poop. I love their Poop, especially because of the prospect of it being free and the reality of me being poor. They are having a contest called "Compete For Poop!!". Basically the competition consists of sending in a clever picture of yourself, friends, family, pets, etc... with a Chicken Poop product. They will in turn post the best picture (mine), pick a winner (me) and send (me) free Poop.

I only have my Chicken Poop Tee to work with as I can’t find my G’damned Chicken Poop Chapstick anywhere!

Here’s where you come in. As previously mentioned, I’ve not been feeling terribly creative lately so I’m asking all two of my devoted readers to help me decide what kind of ingenious (winning) picture I should submit. Please keep idiotic suggestions to yourself as they only make us both look stupid- you for coming up with it and me for actually considering it.

If I win because of your suggestion, I will send you a very nice thank you card and um….., be like appreciative and stuff?

So could you please help me out already?

Who the hell is that and do I really care!?

I hate it when I go to a blog and the author says something like “So Sarah and I killed the guy, dug a deep hole in the backyard and proceeded to make sweet, sweet love a top the shallow grave!”. The first thing that comes to my mind is “Who the fuck is Sarah!? Your homicidal BFF, a coworker, some hooker you picked up last week and made a major connection with, your dog?” (the latter certainly being the most entertaining and interesting an idea). This elusive example sucks for the reader because as the reader you‘re stuck trying to figure out who the fuck Sarah is and whether or not you care.

But I also hate going to blogs and seeing the author say “So Sarah (my dog) and I killed the guy, then (my dog) Sarah and I dug a deep hole in the backyard and Sarah (Sarah’s my dog) and I proceeded to make sweet, sweet love a top the shallow grave!” This redundant example sucks for the author and the reader. The author feeling the need to annoy the shit out of their readers by constantly reiterating who Sarah is and the reader being made to feel like they ride the short bus by having constantly been reminded.

Some blog author’s wouldn’t give a shit if you knew who “Sarah” was. They’d figure “If these assholes want to know who Sarah is and how Sarah fits in my life, they’ll stick around and hope I post more information that will bring Sarah’s role in my life to light.” That strikes me as rather selfish. How do you decipher who the characters are when you’re not an “every day” reader. How does the author fill the reader in without being superfluous? Where’s the happy middle ground for authors not wanting to repeat themselves and readers not wanting to read authors repeating themselves?

I’d think the happy middle ground is in a post like this (as mentally challenged as it may seem) being permanently linked somewhere handicap accessible on the page…

Who The Hell Is She Talking About!?

The people I occasionally reference in my posts…

D- Some poor idiot I duped into marrying me 12 years ago
Dad- I won’t assume my readers are so stupid that they can’t figure this one out
Kojak (or The Cop or Officer Hottie)- My BFF
Tabby (or Ms. T)- My other BFF
George (or Whore-Hey)- My EX!!!! douchebag therapist
Krazy K- My psychotic, neurotic, alcoholic sister
Pitiful J- My lazy ass, pot head, half brother
Fat Nasty (or MIL)- Mother In Law (duh!)
The Harpy (or SIL)- Sister In Law (see above)

So the next time you find yourself asking “Who the hell is she talking about!?” There you have it.

Well that killed 10 minutes...

Scary Monster over at Me No Blog had an excellent idea…here’s what he said…

“This time Me believes that me has found a way to tie in a new concept that will allow every one to participate in the post thereby forming a web within the web.
Iffin ya don't understand what me be talkin about then yer in good company.

Below is a joke.
whether it be good or bad doesn't really matter.

What does matter is that Me will post the punch line in me comments section.

Me would be extremely grateful iffin you could post a single punchline to a joke that you like in the comments section as well and then post the body on your blog. This way folks that visit will see only the punchlines and have to visit you to get the whole gag.

This just might be a fun way to tie all our posts together for a short time.Give it a shot, It will be cool!”

Which I think actually translates into….

Post a single punch-line to a joke (good or bad) that you like in the comments section and then post the body on your blog. This way folks that visit will see only the punch-lines and have to visit you to get the whole gag.

So here goes…

What do a bungee jump and a Hooker have in common?

This is why my dad rocks…

All I could say after seeing it was “Holy Christ, that was truly one of the funniest things I’ve ever seen in my LIFE!”.

This is hysterical


Thanks, dad! Listening to you giggle like a 5 year old was almost as funny as the video.

I was a meme virgin until…

Lattégirl tagged me.

Seven weird things about me

1) I eat in my sleep.
2) I fantasize about being a ninja (or a Jedi).
3) I think testicles are stupid looking.
4) I sit in my back yard late at night, half naked and contemplate life.
5) I can talk people into doing really stupid shit.
6) I hate nickels!
7) My inner voice sounds like Darth Vader.


Now I tag people:

DS @ I Must Be Slipping
Rose @ Great Googly Moogly
Tuna Girl @ Tuna Blog
Kilroy_60 @ Fear And Loathing
Trinity 67 @ Thoughts…

None of you should in any shape, way or form feel obligated to do this retarded meme…I did it cause I got excited about it being my first and well, I dig Lattégirl (not like that you perv!)