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Showing posts from March, 2009

Florida: The Good. The Bad. The Holy SHIT!!!

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So you know...I live in Florida now. The good news is that my southern accent is stronger than ever - I think it was some sort of defense mechanism...of or for what, I have no idea. I definitely miss Atlanta and my friends, though, especially now. Spring in Atlanta is SO beautiful.

But Florida is pretty nice, too. We go to the beach at least once a week and we all love having a pool in the backyard. Also, my husband makes me a Planter's Punch every night and I don't even feel guilty by knocking it back - we're on vacation, right??

A couple of weeks ago I was reading the news and saw this weird picture:



In case your eyes can't make sense of it, I'll give you a hint. It's not a puppy. I'm guessing it's not an air freshener, either. It is, in fact, a Burmese Python that ruptured and now has a really big dead Alligator sticking out of it's stomach. Oh, and something ate the snakes head off. That's why there is no head there.

National Geographic has been…

Pardon me, Brother, but could you spare a dime?

In Florida our homeless people seem to have some sort of union or something. They have matching uniforms and are up - at the crack of dawn - asking for donations on my street corner as I'm unsuccessfully trying to hustle my kids to school on time. And it's always the same guy which leaves me to wonder, "If you can get your shit together enough to show up here everyday asking for money, why don't you just...oh, I don't know...get a job or something??"

My guy, I call him Hud (stands for homeless unkempt dude), is not tall enough. This is basically a nicer way of saying that he's fat. But Hud is totally FAT!! I keep wondering just exactly how needy IS this guy when he can afford to eat an extra thousand calories a day?!

Every morning he greets me in the same fashion - he puts a sad little frown on his crinkly face and holds his hand up with his thumb and index finger almost touching as if to say, "Sadly, my shrinky dink is only this big...that's what …

Switching up the team....

About 15 years ago I got a call from my sister-in-law. She was graduating from college and needed a chaperone to drive from California to the East coast with her. The reason for this, I would find out later, is that she was a notoriously bad driver. And I don't mean this figuratively. I'm being pretty fucking literal. As in, she literally flipped a car 3 or 4 times on a highway one time. That kind of stuff.

Anyway, I was just as willing way back then (as I am now) to shirk my responsibilities and do something stupid so I said "sure!" and caught a flight across the country to hook up with her.

She is a sweet girl and we had a lot of fun meeting in San Francisco, going to L.A., Vegas, Carhenge...you name it. At one point, somewhere in or around Colorado, I became exhausted and wanted to stop for the night. I was pretty tired of the Motel 6's we'd been frequenting and asked if we could use a phone book to look up a Bed and Breakfast. She'd never heard of this.…

Check out the schweaty balls on THAT one....

Mr. Bex entered a weight loss contest at work and is driving me bat shit crazy. Thankfully today is the final day of it and, he claims, he'll take me out for lunch anywhere I want to go to thank me for my participation.

While I might have been construed of as "less than supportive" early on by mocking his giving up the nightly cocktail while I enjoyed my steak, I've more than made up for it this morning. Yes, this morning I have given counsel on the ins and outs (mostly outs) of laxatives. I have also wrapped said husband from head-to-toe in saran wrap - and we're not even going to have sex!

Then, when the aforementioned laxative kicked in I was required to rewrap and then help dress him in his already sweat (and god knows what else) covered clothes. I may never be really clean ever again. All of this and it's not even 9am yet.

This is why I will have a bloody mary bigger than my head with my lunch today and I won't even feel bad about. I've fucking ear…

Bex is going GREEN!

As in, recycling. As in I didn't write, fund or act in the following. I know. I said I KNOW!! Plus it's old, hell, you've probably seen it a dozen times. But it cracks me up every time I see it so I'm throwing it up here ANYWAY. Take that.

And the dialogue! Instant classic....

Obama says (under his breath), "baDUNKadunk". McCain adds, "I would tap that, my friend."



It is sad that I have no original material to share. But fear not, young grasshoppers. I just bought a pair of rollerblades and I'm not as young as I think I am. I'm sure I'll come up with something soon.

The Elusive Badunkadunk

The town I've recently moved to is made up of mostly Hispanic people. It's very strange...I'm in the same country, one state down, yet I feel like I should have my passport with me at all times.

There are a lot of things I love about it, with the great food at the top of the list. Cuban, Dominican Republic, Mexican, Colombian...it's all wonderful. When I pick my kids up at school it is more likely that the parents and teachers will be speaking in Spanish, which has given me the very cool sensation that I'm on a sort of permanent vacation.

Probably the worst thing about it is I'm surrounded by people with majorly impressive asses. I've never before felt so boring from behind as I do now. I find myself staring at thick women in stores and restaurants, wondering how I, too, could have a badunkadunk*. I've been eating rice and beans like it's going out of style but it isn't working. I blame my stupid Irish ancestors and their stupid flat Irish asses. …

The Evolution of Hair (no, the other kind)

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I recently asked a girlfriend if her daughters ever saw her naked and, if so, how did she handle it. Her answer was "Well, I used to all the time, but...I'm kind of, um, creative with my hair...so now I put a hand down there to cover it and skedaddle into a pair of panties ASAFP."

Creative...what does that mean? Is there a New! and Improved! Crotch Coif of which I'm unaware??? I asked her if maybe she shaved her husbands first initial down there or something and we had a nice laugh.

The whole reason I asked her in the first place was because I have another girlfriend who was recently in her garden tub, having a soak when her 8 year old son walked into the bathroom and said he wanted to jump in. He did so in his underwear. Well, her husband came in and got pissed off! I guess he thought it was inappropriate for the boy to see his mother naked. I have no idea about her coiffing tendencies...but maybe she has a similar issue.

Well, all of this talk about bush coiffing has …

Rhymes with Holinoscopy

Some time ago I went to my twentieth high school reunion. I had a good time, although I hadn't seen most of these people since the day I accepted my diploma. One exception was a guy named...well, let's call him "Joe" in case he doesn't want to be discussed on a public blog. Anyway, I bumped into "Joe" several years ago on Bourbon Street in New Orleans around 11:45PM on New Years Eve. I don't know about him but we had been drinking since that morning so I didn't remember much about the encounter.

So when I saw him at the reunion I brought up the New Orleans thing and we laughed about it. We started making small talk and he said that he was, in fact, a medical doctor. I thought that was pretty cool. After all, this is someone with whom I'd sit at parties and bang heads with while listening to heavy metal bands. And look how nicely he turned out! I asked him what kind of medicine he practiced and he said, "uh, internal." Well, I'm …