Lady A…..with a twist….of vodka.

Everyone on this planet has been subjected to Lady Antebellum’s hit song “Need You Now” at least 9,000 times in the last  six months. The song is everywhere. While I appreciate music and all that it is worth, even the bad stuff, I couldn’t help but fill in the lyrics with my own take on the situation. Off of the top of my head…here is what the chick really wanted to say:

I just dropped my valium,

Now it’s scattered on the floor.

Reaching for my vodka, I think that I’m on shot number four.

And I wonder if I should have done those lines.

To me it seems I’ll be just fine

It’s a quarter after noon, I’m completely trashed and drunk-dialing now.

You said I shouldn’t call and you hoped I’d take a fall but I am trashed right now.

And I don’t know how to just shut my mouth, I am trashed right now.

Another shot of Cuervo, just ran into my closed front door.

Wishing you’d come get me, how’d I get here on the floor?

And I wonder if you’re on the other line.

Maybe I’ll call you one more time.

It’s a quarter after noon, I am effing smashed,

And drunk-dialing now.

Said to get a life, you already had a wife but I’m smashed right now.

And I don’t know how, but I just fell down, I am hammered now.

Yes I’d rather puke than have you reject my call.

It’s a quarter after noon, I’m running out of booze and drunk-dialing now.

And you said I made you sick got hit with an ugly stick but I’m sloshed right now.

And I don’t know how but I just found out that I’m having your baby now.

I’m inebriated now.

Oh baby I just fell down.

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Hearting True Blood…it’s an art, really.

Any of you who know me, I mean “KNOW ME-KNOW ME” understand, and most likely share, my love for the HBO entertainment goodness that is True Blood. I feel compelled to write about it since last night’s episode was the best this season, in my opinion…and where would you be without my opinion? Probably face down in a bowl of split pea and ham soup being molested by circus clowns. Just a hunch…

Anyway…for those of you who know not of the wonderful display of modern day naughtiness coupled with the vampire-esque darkness that is True Blood….you must go, faster than immediately, to the nearest DVD renting receptacle, Best Buy, or online viewing site of your choice and catch up on previous seasons and the episodes of Season 3 thus far. Do it….do it meow.

Now, for those of you who are in the know and caught last night’s episode…..feel free to post thoughts and insight here. What’s up with Franklin, our delightfully bubbly and incredibly text savvy vamper? Is he gone for good? Do you find Tara’s facial expressions to be increasingly annoying, such as myself? Perhaps you have a hunch about next week.

PS: I hate the word hunch and I used it just now.. .time to update my “hate words” list.

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Cigarettes are bad…mmmmmkay

I found myself watching re-runs of Will and Grace last night after I ran out of roach and ant spray and my Friday night killing spree fell short of a massacre. Worry not…I am on my way to get more spray after writing this.

Now, I am normally a lover of commercials, especially when well thought out and especially comedic. More entertainingly, though, I wonder how it is possible for chocolate and junk food commercials to get away with casting skinny 98 pound women to wrap their lips around chocolate and french fries, yet cigarette commercials have been banned. Clearly, the effects of cigarettes have become common knowledge and the harmful chemicals and addictive nature of smokey treats have brought advertising the product to a screeching halt.

Shouldn’t the effects of eating chocolate and junk food be handled in the same manner? Should we not have fat, disgusting, cholesterol infested candidates for casting in commercials that promote the stuff?

So, let me get this straight. Our country is infested with fat asses who pray to Gods with names like Ronald McDonald and assorted colors of M&M characters whom cost our country billions a year in medical expenses and funding for their electric motorized shopping vehicles. We can turn on the television at any given time and see the very products that most likely put them in this state being gobbled down by skinny bitches sporting daisy dukes. Yet Joe Camel and Marlboro Man have been laid to rest due to the harmful products they promoted?

Makes sense to me.

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We the RoBotS of the United States….

There comes a time in our lives, well MOST of our lives, when we find out that some of the things our parents raised us to believe are not exactly true. No, you will not get a cold from going outside without a jacket, your eyes will not stay crossed if you hold them that way, you will not get a wart of a frog pees on your hand (though strippers, in some cases, are a completely different story), thunder during storms is not God bowling, and eating before you go swimming will not cause projectile vomiting or labor-like cramping…in most cases anyway.

This brings me to my point…are you ready for this? Get a life and beliefs of YOUR OWN. Live a little. Pop the post utero bubble you are surrounded by and get off the tit.

Too many of our younger generation THRIVE souly on what their parents and even more catastrophically, their churches, tell them to do. Now, don’t get me wrong…guidance and insight from your elders and peers is a good thing. But living your life by a book of any kind, or by the words and thoughtless banter of beliefs passed down through generations of your family is most certainly robbing yourself of a personal relationship with yourself.

Take a moment, Twilight loving generation, to question WHY things are….and WHY you feel the way you do about important issues in your life. Turn off your Fox News, block out the left or right wing conversations that go on around you and shove your Skullcandy earbuds into your head as far as the masses of your dome will allow them. And think.  Go ahead, I double dog dare you. You may be surprised what you discover.

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Call me your best, and I'll act like the rest.

IN RESPONSE TO THE QUESTION:  “Who is your best friend?”

Who cares? A “best friend” title given to someone very special to you is only a recipe for disaster.

In my experience, a friend deemed “the best” has somehow always managed to fall short of their BFF expectations. But first, let’s look at the expectations of said “BFF” and all that they entail…at least where I come from.

1. Do not sleep with my boyfriend/husband….unless given permission, in which case you should cut me off from any further drinking, feed me some Ramen Noodles and Ibuprofin, and send me to bed…next to my boyfriend/husband.

2. Listen to me bitch about my life while I only pretend to be concerned of the contents of your own.

3. Water my plants and feed my dog while I am away on trips. The trips I had no intentions on asking you to come along on, since I knew someone would have to stay behind to take care of chores mentioned above.

4. Keep my secrets. And by “secrets” I mean “things I have told you not to tell anyone although I know you are probably building a text in your head to send to your “other” BFF as soon as our convo is over.”

5. You can pick your friends and you can pick your nose, but you shouldn’t pick your friends nose.

6. Tell me when I look like a cow and do not let me leave the house looking like an asshole. I don’t care who you are, or how long you have been friends. A girl NEVER wants the other girl they are hanging with to look better than them. BFF or not.

7. A true friend will change the unidentified fecal odor trap attached to your children. Diapers are love.

8. And finally, a true “best friend” never calls themselves, or you, a best friend at all. Real friends don’t need titles or matching key chains. Unless, of course, you are 12…in which case your BFF’s change weekly. True friendship is understood and often goes unspoken. That is all.

7.

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