thanks to TMZ.com, i have learned that Kelis filed for divorce from Nas, even though she’s seven months preggo.
two thoughts.
1. call me crazy, but those “irreconcilable differences” may just be pregnant mood swings.
2. after she gives birth and is single again, we’ll see if her milkshake really can bring all the boys to the yard.
there is a 20-year-old boy that comes in to my work who is interested in me. i laugh at this, because poor young boys don’t know what they would be getting themselves in to with me. i would hate to corrupt a young boy’s life with my shenanigans. if i wanted to eff up a young and innocent person’s life, i would just have a baby.
surrogate mother.
i don’t think that’s my gig, but i totally wouldn’t rule it out.
as i was chat-chitting with my mother today, she had mentioned that one of the gay doctors from my old work and his life partner were looking for someone to have their child.
“nay, you wanna make a quick twenty-five thousand dollars?” my mom asked.
“mom, we already talked about the nude modeling thing.”
“no, there’s a doctor at work that would pay for you to be a surrogate mother.”
“i don’t think nine months of pregnancy classifies as a ‘quick twenty-five grand.’ and besides, i don’t want to give up margaritas for that long.”
“well, it’s something to think about. it may be your calling in life.”
“no, mom, i think my calling would be if there was an opening for a drunken circus midget who can pound margaritas.”
random sightings:
1. a 9-year-old mexican boy, in the desert, holding a handgun. apparently, anyone can get guns out here.
2. i was selling supplements to an old man that was fiddling around with something in his mouth. as i got a closer look, i saw his jacked-up denture grill twirling around. its amazing that some people pay money for a second set of teeth, and then trash the hell out of those, too. they were amazingly disgusting.
3. my friend, megan, called me after she bought a bunch of vitamins from a vitamin retailer near her house.
“i just bought all of these vitamins, but are they good for me? i don’t want them to hurt me. i’m scared,” she said.
“megan, it’s not like those vitamins are chris brown or anything.”
(complements of www.coolquiz.com):
Boogers are mucus (myoo-kuss). Mucus is the thin, slippery material that is found inside your nose. Many people call mucus snot. Your nose makes nearly a cupful of snot every day. Snot is produced by the mucous membranes in the nose, which it moistens and protects.
When you inhale air through your nose, it contains lots of tiny particles, like dust, dirt, germs, and pollen. If these particles made it all the way to the lungs, the lungs could get damaged and it would be difficult to breathe. Snot works by trapping the particles and keeping them in the nose.
After these particles get stuck inside the nose, the mucus surrounds them along with some of the tiny hairs inside the nose called cilia. The mucus dries around the particles. When the particles and dried-out mucus clump together, you’re left with a booger!
Boogers can be squishy and slimy or tough and crumbly. In fact, boogers are a sign that your nose is working properly.
okay, so the reason i am posting this is to give everyone a better understanding, if you didn’t know already, how boogers are made. i highlighted the area that pointed out “dust and dirt.” living out in the desert has forced me to spend a lot more time with my finger up my nose. and no, i don’t eat it afterward…i look for somewhere to stick it. just another piece of information i’m sure you could have done without.
exactly nine years ago today, i lost my virginity.
for the record…i still haven’t found it. dang.
i am a loser. who remembers this kind of crap?!?
i just went out with my roommate and her boyfriend for a drink at our local bar. i shared with her the story of my disasterous first-school-bus-kiss-attempt. this is what she said, “ha! i kissed him in sixth grade. sorry.”
i replied, “really? i must have broken the ice. you should thank me that he didn’t scream and pull away like a little girl.”
“i made out with a lot of boys in sixth grade. that was my year. i don’t even know how that happened…i wore flannel shirts and shit.”
“slut.”
this one might explain why i was a prude until i was seventeen. really…i know you might have your own personal thoughts about how skanky i am and appear to be, but seriously, this story is painfully true and embarrassing.
so, there i was, in sixth grade, twelve years old, and i had a “boyfriend.” now, i put that term in quotes because when you’re twelve, a “boyfriend” really isn’t a “boyfriend.” well, at least when i was twelve…in 1996. now, twelve-year-olds are putting some college girls to shame with their sexual shenanigans. one more reason that i hope i never have little girls of my own…and if i do, well, i am going to feed them butter. and tie their knees together.
anyway, i was on the school bus, on my way home from school, sitting in the same seat as my “boyfriend.” we had been “dating” for two weeks by this point and barely held hands or talked to one another. one of my friends was sitting behind me and popped up over the seat to whisper something in my ear.
“you have to kiss him before he gets off at his stop,” she says.
“huh?!?” i retort with a look of complete terror on my face.
“don’t be a wuss. you don’t want to be a prude.”
“i’m twelve.”
“just do it. his stop is coming up. you have to.”
effing peer pressure. so, not wanting to back out of this somewhat dare/demand, i thought, “well, i might as well give it a shot. what’s the worst that can happen?”
my hands were getting sweaty and my heart was about to pound out of my chest. his bus stop was approaching rapidly and i was about to experience the first kiss of my almost teen-aged life. (my actual first kiss was in kindergarten, but i don’t count that one, because i kind of physically abused my way in to his heart. i beat his ass and threw him down on the playground and jumped on top of him. some may call it sexual assault, i call it “i wish i had a roofie.”)
the bus stopped at his house. he grabbed his book bag off the floor of the bus and was about to get up when i turned to him and said, “wait, sit back down.” (talk about setting the romantic mood. what the eff was i thinking?!?)
“okay, why?” he said.
“just do it.”
so, he sat back down and that’s when i went for it. i, without any grace or sexual appeal, launched my puckered lips in his direction, hoping he would reciprocate.
he screamed like a bitch.
i opened my eyes and was completely embarrassed. i buried my face in my hands and told him to get off the bus.
“wait, i thought you were going to bite me. i was scared. just try it again,” he said.
“no way. go home,” i replied.
he stood up and exited. my friend popped up over the seat and said, “what a pussy.”
i broke up with him the next day.
and this, my friends, is why reneecarol.com was scarred for years to come and never tried to put the moves on anyone again. until college.
i have a feeling it would have mentioned something about me commiting an accidental double homicide.
on my way in to work this morning, i hit a bird. yes…i hit an animal that is supposed to fly away, hence why it was born with the capability of flight. i felt horrible. as i hit it, i yelled, “GODDAMMIT, YOU IDIOT.”
and then i felt even more horrible about a mile down the road when it fell out of my wheel well and plopped on the road. dang. sorry, big bird.
second, on my way home from work, i was on the highway when the person in front of me hit a prarie dog. and then i hit it again (on accident) to seal the deal, i guess. poor guy. that’s why we don’t hang out in three lanes of traffic.
i am still dumbfounded about the bird. that is why you were born with wings…use them. that’s like humans being born with genitals, but never losing their virginity. what a waste.