Things I know with absolute certainty

Questers!

It has obviously been far too long since I have graced you with my presence. Yes, you beautiful peasants, this is Rachel, your lovely goddess.

You all on the left, my obvious sexy nakedness on the right.

Have any of you ever just had one of those moments where you suddenly remember something after the fact? Like, buying yourself a brand of gum and then remembering you tried it before and hated it? I do that shit all the time.

Or how about the things you know with utmost certainty? Like, you know them so hard that you'll never forget them. I also do that shit all the time.

I am a fucking contradiction (tee hee, you can't say contradiction without saying dick).

Questers, these are the things I know (list up to 22 because that's my age bitches) and will never forget, unless I have a major head injury, get Alzheimer's, etc.:

1. Turkey Hill, Sweet Tea tastes like how a trashcan with a new bag smells. 

No seriously, think about that next time you drink it. It's like a plastic trashcan with a new Glad Flex bag.

2. Kevin Hart is the funniest motherfucking male comedian on the face of this Earth. Fuck the boyfriend for introducing this hilarious man to me.

You'll honestly die from laughter the first time you watch this.*

*Note: he is crude as crude gets...so....yeah.

3. Sitting in a hot-tub to get warm and then jumping into a pool is awesome.

4. Deer are assholes who always run right in front of your car. 

No, that's cool bro. I didn't like or need my car anyway. I'll just walk from now on. 

5. Driving someone who is under the influence of drugs home is never a good idea. 

Let me say it again Brett, a white car does not necessarily mean a police car. Stop yelling, crying, and jumping every time a white car passes us or gets behind us. 

Brett, will you stop hyperventilating and laughing at the same time? What are you freaking out about? That's a fucking mailbox! No, it is not your mom! Your mom isn't a mailbox! What would she even be doing standing on the side of the road? Get back in your seat and put your seatbelt on!

6. Typing BOOBS and BOOBLESS on a calculator never gets old.

Har har har! Boobless!!!! You're boobless!!!

7. Saying a 'bad word' for the first time is the most exhilarating and terrifying experience of early childhood.

"Ha, doo-doo butt fungus face! That's what you are, granny panties pee-pee licker! Hee hee!"

8. Seeing a dog die in real life or a movie will always make you tear up...at least a little. 

 

Even this movie made me cry! And none of them die!

9. Putting grape juice in a wine glass will always make you feel bad-ass. 

Mmm, yes, indeed. This is a lovely vintage of Welch's Grape Juice. Excellent on the nose with hints of excess sugar and ripe, juicy grapes. An amazing sipping juice, with sweetness and a kick of tartness on the palate. The finish is long and drawn out, sure to leave you refreshed and tingling. Pairs well with Jesus' body, Lunchables, PB&J, etc. 

10. Horses will be dicks just to be dicks.

Food now human! Now! I say now! *KICK, KICK, REAR* 

*Dumps food* Ah, horse love human. Human and horse are the best of friends.

11. The scene in I Am Sam where Sam starts yelling in the restaurant will always make you feel awkward inside, and you'll gladly skip past that part. 

Yet, you never want him to lose his daughter.

12. Belly dancing is NOT incredibly easy despite what others may say.

13. Dr. House from, well, House, is an asshole doctor and I don't care what you have to say about that.

14. Criminal Minds is probably the best crime show in the history of ever. 

If this episode didn't make you cry...Seriously, some of the saddest shit ever.

15. Stepping on a Lego is Satan's way of saying 'fuck you in the ass with a rusty cancer pipe'. 

16. No one plays GTA for the story line.

17. Disney owns the world.

This is also the evilest thing I can imagine. My Mickey Mouse shower curtain will never look the same.

18. All puppets excluding Sesame Street, The Muppets, and Fraggle Rock are creepy as fuck. 

My parents bought my older brother this for Christmas one year. His name is Slappy. Mike liked to put Slappy is my room while I was asleep. Fuck you Mike and fuck you Slappy. 

19. Nothing beats icecream on a hot summer day.

Seriously nummy.

20. Watching nerds play Magic is slightly endearing if you can get past the smell of B.O., unwashed balls, and virgin testosterone. Slightly endearing because they get fucking serious with their game and B.O. because I'm absolutely sure the vast majority of them don't shower...ever. 

The only card I use to win when I play Tyler. At least he smells delicious and knows how to clean his balls. 

To all Magic players, really I'm just giving you all a hard time. But have any of you honestly ever sat through a tournament? The air always reeks of rancid hairy ass and sweaty ball-sack. Always. Last time I went with Tyler (oh he's such a cute nerd), I sat next to this boy, who I kid you not, smelled like old vagina. How is that even possible?

21. Chef Boyardee, Spaghetti and Meatballs is deliciousness! I don't care how bad it is for you. 

Fucking yes!

22. Quip It! is a wonderful game that you can never stop playing. If you ever get caught up in this game, please be prepared to never stop. Actually, you better sign away your life first before popping in the disk.

This game was designed for perverts and if the makers say otherwise they are lying. 

Well questers, I think that's good for now.

Adios!

ha

IM GLAD YOUR PEN IS GONE RACHEL.


THATS WHAT YOU GET.

My Pen

Questers, it is with much sadness that I, Rachel, announce the disappearance of my best writing buddy, my pen, InkJoy.

InkJoy, I've had you for months. I've used you for corrections and memo's, took down messages with your blood. I'll never forget the moment we met. It was perfect.

The Staples man delivered our parcel which I signed for, not even knowing you would be included as a random free gift/sample. How could I have known that a simple bazillion dollar order of ink cartridges would include your delectable body? But, oh! There you were, nestled soundly in your own little packet, clicky black body snuggled gently among bigger ink carriers. I was in immediate love.

The moment you fell into my hand I knew we were destined for greatness. How could it be anything else? Your grip was too comfortable for words. Your style was suitably classy. Oh, I knew we were to be the best of friends.

And how could I live through the first moment your ink touched smooth white? You rolled so smooth, your ink so black and thick. Yes, you were the yin to my yang. And what's this? No smearing! Unheard of for a lefty. InkJoy, I vow you completed me.

But what is to be now? How can I simply go for a plan old blue Bic or Zebra in purple? How can I replace you? How will it be these next few days.

InkJoy, I know not where you have gone or who has stolen you from my office, but please do not be afraid. I know no one will have quite the gentle touch as me nor the inherent handwriting skill. Please know I will never forget you. You were truly my best work surprise, truly the best of penmanship companions.

Rest in piece, InkJoy/Rest in the hands of the jealous unholy motherfucker that ruined my day.

Thing I both hate and love about being an adult

Hello Questers! This is the lovely (define lovely during pregnancy) Rachel once again.

I'm sure you all are shocked by my sudden not-taking-two-thousand-years-to-make-a-post behavior. Good for you because you get an amazing (obviously) post. Bad for you because you're only getting one because I'm totally bored.

Does anyone else have the Monday blahs? 

Coincidentally, this is exactly what I'd look like if I was a single mother struggling with alcoholism during the '20's.

Thus, my mind is currently occupied by the reasons I both hate and love being an adult.

Reasons to LOVE being an adult over the age of 21:

*I can legally smoke if I want. It's too bad I have never smoked. How am I to assert my adulthood to the other adultified people?

What my boyfriend cancers...I mean...smokes.

*I can legally purchase and imbibe alcohol, and if I get carded, HA, in their faces. I'm legal.

Nummy, nummy, nummy!

*I live on my own (meaning with boyfriend) and do not have to clean the dishes nor sweep if I don't want to. My house, while not filthy, isn't exactly OCD clean so take that as you will. Although, I  did scrub the kitchen floor on my hands and knees yesterday. Fun times for a pregnant lady.

*I have a boyfriend and my parents can't make me dump him, not that my parents would ever do that to Tyler.

*I can have all the sex I want: loud sex, quiet sex, rough sex, bathroom sex, kitchen sex, living room sex and I don't have to worry about anyone but my dog hearing (he's probably traumatized for life).

*With the above, I can have sex without worrying that the boy I'm with will be charged with statutory rape. This is a good thing.

*I can make my own life choices and decide what's best for myself.

*I can vote for or against any person running for public office. 

*I can eat pizza and icecream for dinner if I damn well want.

Reasons to HATE being an adult over the age of 21:

*I can legally purchase DRANK, just increasing the chances of my DD status becoming a nightly affair (Note: I don't drink).

*I have to do adult things like clean my own house, cook, wash clothes, etc. I. NEED. AN. ADULT.

Oh Spock! That face! That body! You drive me wild!

*I have to pay for all my shit: food, clothes, house, car, utilities, etc.

The best kind of dinner after paying all the bills.

*I have to get up and go to work every weekday from 8:30 to 5:30.

*I have to file my taxes and pay all those stupid government bills throughout the year.

"As you can clearly see, you actually owe US money. Looks like you'll be getting an audit, not a vacation."

*If I get sick, I have to take myself to the doctor and pay my co-pay.

*I can't pretend to fall asleep in the car and have my daddy carry me inside. :'(

The best feeling ever!

You can pretend you didn't do this, but you're lying. You're either lying or had a sad, sad childhood.

*I can't reasonably explain to my boyfriend why I feel like watching Care Bears.

Dark Heart! You are the biggest douche of my childhood.

*I can't play an imaginary game outside without the local authorities arresting me for suspected drug use.

"Ma'am, have you been under the influence of illegal drugs this afternoon?"

"No officer, I was just playing corporate lawyers. I'm prosecutor this time."

"Ma'am, I'm going to have to ask you to come with me."

"But, the jury is almost finished deliberating."

"Ma'am, I will not ask you again."

"All rise for the judge, you too Copper."

~ Bzz! That is the sound of the taser electrocuting me ~

*I can't get into a fight without running a chance of being stuck with a criminal record.

*It is not okay for me to point out someone's bald spot. 

I did do that when I was little. I think my parents were mortified.

*I can't ride the kid's rides at amusement parks.

*Playing on a playground is definitely a way to get put on an FBI watch list.

This is what people will see me as. I do not want a lisp.

*Climbing your neighbor's tree is not acceptable. It may actually get you arrested for peeping.

And I'm sure I can increase these lists, but my brain has short-circuited.

Damn that looks good enough to eat.

Also, KELSEY. Yes, I'm talking to you. Post something lady. Anything.

As for you questers? Well, we'll see how quickly either Kelsey or myself can post again.

Update on Kelsey!

Well, not that anyone is interested. I find it fascinating that I was the only one that posted when we first got started and then after a while it was just Rachel. So, heres a mild update on Kelsey, by Kelsey, I suppose.


Hey questers! I've missed you! Kinda! Sorta! PERHAPS. Anyways, life is busy lately for the mildly lethargic Kelsey  I've been doing school stuff. I joined the forensics team and all that good stuff so most of my free time goes to that, as my last update conveyed.

this isn't forensics go to hell this is forensic science fuckers

Rachel laughs at me for being on the team, but I bring home a lot of awards and she SECRETLY CARES. I enjoy it profusely, mainly because I stand at the front of the classroom and say words and people actually have to listen to me. Being the psychology freak I am, my topics have been the Kublar-Ross model for Poetry (and currently Ophelia's madness for it this semester...), Foreign Accent syndrome for Informative and then...Cookies for After-dinner Speaking. Yes. These all go together apparently.

I googled after-dinner speaking and got a bunch of pictures of random men...and then this. Okay. This is accurate.

Apparently googled is not a term that the google blog website recognizes. Huh. Okay.

Anyways. I also recently watched Fruits Basket and Ouran High School Host Club and then read the mangas, so that took up a bunch of my time. And I've been catching up on Supernatural. And rereading Harry Potter. And basically avoiding having to do actually work and think about things.

Bobby is my baby. I love him a lot.

So, yeah. I've been all sad and junk lately, much to no one's amusement. All my friends are pretty sick of my shit. I'm like in love with some dude that has a very lovely girlfriend so thats...a problem for many reasons. On top of that, I found a girl I grew up with as a sister and then lost contact with. I found her online, facebook and all that jazz and I've been going back and forth for weeks now on whether I should contact her or not. I'm kinda a whiny pansy ass. This post will have no funny parts if you haven't been able to tell yet. I also typed that as yeti originally. So, take that as you will.

The biggest update is that lately I have been preparing about four months in advance for a small get together I am throwing for my ladies. I'm inviting all my ladies and all their boyfriends. Which is fun for me, because I get to go alone! Oh, well, I'm the hostess and will focus on making the night special for everyone.

But, what is this get together you ask? Oh...you didn't ask? Well, Ill tell you anyways. Dick.

I am throwing a formal Tea Party!

it will be about as crazy as this

I've bought the perfect dining/tea set (91 pieces for 80 dollars, going right in the hope chest!) and a serving tray for the tea pot. Now all I have left is the linen napkins, the silverware, a venue, and I have the perfect dress picked out. I'm putting a lot of money and time into this and I know Rachel finds it ridiculous.

But, personally, if its something I can do for my ladies, I think its not ridiculous at all. I don't have many bills now or basically any responsibilities. Rachel is pregnant, Tanieka is engaged, Brit has been dating her boyfriend for a year and a half now, and Jennifer is dating my brother. To me, that doesn't sound like we are kids anymore that can hang out whenever. It takes a long time to plan for everyone to hang out and most of the time I screw up and someone has to be left out. I do my best. I really want the tea party to be special. I want it to become something everyone enjoys, even if they do have to dress nice (for this one at least...pictures and stuff), and that they would want to do at least once a year or something.

We will all eventually start moving our separate ways and that thought scares me. I'm trying my best to be able to go to a distance learning college nearby for my bachelors so I can stay with my mom and keep close to wp and Rachel for another two years. But, Tanieka and Jennifer will definitely be going away for college and Brit isn't going to be able to stick around forever. I want this tea party to be a reason for them to come back, no matter what, and see everyone. I want it to be something that we do often, seeing as I have the supplies now, and bring whatever new members along that join our family. My ladies have already added three guys to the family, I added Jennifer and she pulled my brother into the group (he seems to be adjusting well). I know its probably not healthy, but I don't want to let go. Not yet. So, if this is the only thing I can do, if setting up little get togethers and throwing them parties when they tell me its their birthday...spending a little bit of money won't hurt me, so I'm going to keep doing it.

Well, that was a fun bit of whining, wasn't it? So, I will of course post pics of the Tea Party when it happens. I've already started baking and cooking to try everything out. I haven't found a soup thats suitable for April, yet, but I will! Next weekend I'm making finger sandwiches! Everyone I've told about it first ask for an invitation and when I tell them its my family only, they then ask for pictures when it happens. I'll be more than happy to oblige. I might have to make little invitations to send to my ladies, too...hmmm, ideas, ideas!

Thanks for listening and have a great day, space aliens!

Why I am the least favorite child...and other goodies

Long time no rant, questers. I know you all are so angry you could just silver-back gorilla fight me (*side note* I have no clue if those are silver-back gorillas). 

Life has been fairly good in my realm, although fighting to maintain the land of my people has been most difficult. I've already lost many brave souls (AKA Nigel's) to the war effort.

Is this insensitive?

Many moons and eons ago I posted a little about my family and childhood, mainly that I was a egg in a sausage factory...a horrendously tortured egg (psst- I have two brothers!). I however do not know if I mentioned that my parents fail at picking favorites.

I'm like this. Humpty-dumpty...oh, and evil.

Favorite children happen, just like shit and herpes happen. They just do. Usually the favorite is the first-born or last-born, hardly ever the middle. Guess which I am?

Did you guess first-born? Well, you're wrong. Awesome, you guessed last-born? Wrong again.

Unfortunately/fortunately (depending on how you look at it), I was born the middle child. I am unfortunate that I am the middle child because...fuck the middle...but I'm also fortunate because I am a little sister AND a big sister. I'm like the Big-Little program all-in-one! 

Where you'll never catch me in a million years.

I never really cared about being a middle child. It was whatever. I honestly didn't even realize how unfairly I was treated sometimes until my late teens/early adulthood. 

Example #1: Verbal Arguments

The sad fact about my family is that we are arguers at heart. We will argue about anything and everything (from gay marriage to religion to fucking dirt). We pretty much don't need much incentive to start an all out debate over the Thanksgiving dinner table at Grandma's. We are also the clan with the 'I'm-always-right' blood. You can see then that my two brothers and I absolutely never argued, except for...well, always. 

Probably the only thing my brother and I agree on - Atheism

My parents were usually fine with letting the argument run it's course until things got physical or someone started to cry. Then it was remove quarreling siblings and blame the perpetrator of the argument. Now, I'm not saying I was always right. Hell, I was probably in the wrong most of the time (probably why I was blamed all the time).  

I got into an argument with Mike (older brother) once over medical jargon. It's nice to note that Mike knew jack-shit about medicine while I was training in it. I don't remember what word/disease we were feuding about but I was 'obviously, completely, clearly in the wrong'. We got increasingly agitated and loud until my parents came in, told us to shut it, and told me to stop causing arguments. Yep...even though I had only been correcting him at first (you know, like a good person?). Oh well...

Or how about the time that my older brother called me a fat whore (in front of his friends) and I started crying. My mom found me crying on her bed and asked me what happened. I told her and guess what? Mike got in trouble! Lol! Just kidding, I was told to ignore him and stop starting arguments. 

*Please note, lest pitchforks fly my parents way, that I have the best mom and dad in the world regardless of their unnoticed favoritism towards Satan, I mean, Mike.*

Example #2 Physical Altercations

I've been in fights. A lot of fights. With a brother 2 years older than I and a brother 1.5 years younger than I, well, I certainly took a rock to the head more often than not (*note* my brothers weren't excessively harsh...most of the time).

I've never really been a wuss and I'm actually glad of these little tussles, since they have made me stronger overall. But once again, we have little instances of favoritism.

In a verbal argument turned brutal showdown to the death, Mike and I stood toe to toe just waiting for the moment to attack. He tackled me. I kicked him. He pulled my hair. I bit him. He maybe-not-so-accidentally threw me down the stairs. I was blamed for starting the fight. Oh, how the cycle repeats.

My body is the one in pieces.

*Please note that my parents would never let us get seriously hurt and wouldn't even let us fight if they caught us. Also note that they are bad-ass.*

Example #3 Pets

When I was in middle school my parents got Mike a little black lab puppy. He named her Leela. Yes, from Futurama. She was so fantastically cute that I wanted a puppy as well.

I can totally see the resemblance here. 

The resolute answer was no. Understandable, but sad. Two puppies at once was probably a little overboard for my parents.

A few years later I asked for a dog again. My parents said we couldn't get another dog until school was out (FUCKING SUMMER) because no one would be home to train it until then. Fair enough. I asked for a cat instead.

Something like this!

We only had one cat at the time (belonging to Mike). My cat had died year prior from liver/kidney failure while I was still in elementary school.

The answer again to my request was no, yet mom and dad agreed I could get a pet...just not a dog or cat. Okay, I thought in my young mind. A rabbit? No, they smell. A ferret  No, they are evil. A guinea pig? No, horribly smellier than a rabbit. A snake? Nope, not again (we had a snake when I was younger and had to get rid of it when we moved). I was at a standstill. I didn't want fish or something stupid like that (I totally had fish at one point. I was just fussy because my parents weren't being cool). And finally, after many attempts to get a cuddly snuggle bunny or chinchilla my parents agreed...To. A. Fucking. Bird. 

I took my only chance at pet ownership and my parents bought me a bright green and blue hand raised Budgie. I named him Clicker (because obviously GENIUS) and he actually became my friend.

This, only brighter and with more blue.

You may be asking yourselves where the unfairness is. My parents allowed me to get a pet, just not a dog or cat or smelly rodent. And sure, that would have been okay...except, a few months later my parents got my younger brother, Cody, a cat (which he named Amy...from Futurama). A cat like I wanted! A cat who proceeded to kill my bird the day she arrived at our house. 

The face of a murderer (I still like her though).

Oh, did I mention that Cody didn't like this cat because she wasn't super cuddly so my parents got him another? 2 cats when they swore we weren't getting any more cats.

What did I get for my murdered bird? Another 2 birds...

*Please note that I still have the best parents ever. They just kind of thought I fell in love with birds, I didn't. They were sadly misinformed by my sobbing when my buddy Clicker clicked no more.*

Here's a fun story regarding Clicker's death and funeral. He was attacked at night and died the next morning (a Saturday) from shock. I called my parents crying - my dad had said Clicker would be fine. He was just being a good lying dad. My dad told me to have my brothers help me bury him. My brothers were such "good brothers" that day! Oh no, I meant the opposite. They totally told me no! So I lovingly filled a shoe box with soft rags and laid Clicker in his warm tomb before surrounding him with dandelion weeds. At least the weather was wonderful for a funeral. Ah, just fucking with you, it was raining hardcore and I was crying like a baby while trying to bury my pet. 

Wasn't that a fun story, kids?

So yeah, instances of favoritism all over the place but I still had the best childhood ever. I doubt my parents even realized their little acts of PUTTING MIKE ON A FUCKING PEDESTAL. 

Oh the loveliness of families!

Go go average family! Mighty, normal, average family!

In other news, baby WP (womb-parasite) has been moving. I'm secretly hoping he/she take looks and brains from Daddy Ty.

Also, I had a dream the other night where I was supposed to infiltrate SeaOrg and take out all the major Scientologists. I saw them handing out pamphlets and decided to ninja into their society. I became a level 9,000 paladin or some shit and was able to sit in the highest choir of Tom Cruises (I actually know diddly about Scientology). The dream ended by me freeing all the abused/brainwashed children from international water slavery and defeating the evil John Travolta (because he is obviously the head of the whole organization). I will probably be put on their hit list now so if I disappear you know.

Tom Cruise - Scientology Defender of Justice

Not to poke fun at religion or anything but seriously? Scientology?

In another flash of news, the current weather sucks. It sucks so hard. It was short-sleeve wearing weather just a few days ago...then it is snowing...then it is sunny...now it is windy and freezing. I give up.

I bid you adieu until next time (like 2 months from now).

Baby Momma!!!!

Yo Questers! It's been a while.

Far too long since I last regaled you with the fascinating tales of my life. Far too long since I've made you swoon. Far too long since I've been crude to you.

Alas, times goes by much too quickly. And since I have the memory of a rock, I forget the Bucket Sphere even exists.

For shame!

Fuck you Rachel!

And so I bring you the joyous news of my pregnancy. Yes I, Rachel, am going to be a first time mother. What?????!!!!

Holy shit! Something like this is growing in me!

I am in absolute shock over this. I wasn't trying for a child, but succeeded anyway. Seriously, it's not a competition body!

I'm a ball of nerves and I keep thinking ridiculous things like: what if it dies? how will I afford this? what if my man and I fuck up? what if? what if? what if?

My OBGYN has given me a list of a fucking thousand do's and don'ts, and how do I follow? So many vitamins. So many appointments. So many people to tell.

My father? Took it well. Friends? Also well. Boss? As well as can be. Coworkers? Excited. Mother? Doesn't know yet (since I just found out this morning). Grandmother? Never knowing ever if I can help it. She is a grade-A Bible thumper. 

6-weeks. 6-fucking-weeks. A month and a half of baby growing. I'm going to be a mother. I'm going to be a fucking mother. I'm going to pop a child out of my hoo-ha. Noooooo.....!!!

Questers, please make this baby awesome. I couldn't stand an un-awesome baby. 

And thus, this is where I leave you. Maybe more posts later!!! And not about babies!!!...(necessarily).