A Whole Pile of Gibberish & A Messed Up Paradise

I feel compelled to jump in here all "AAAAYYY" like Fonzi, but really, that's just fucking cheesy & possibly detrimental to my readership, so I'll start by saying "Hi, blog, bloggers. I've truly missed your asses, really."

 I do enjoy staying very busy, but it's just not the same without you. All those lonely, wordless nights I lay in bed, thinking about caressing you and your foul words and insane ramblings and how you say "Don't touch me there! It's harassment".

As some of you may know, over a week ago I packed my bags and ran on down to sunny FLA for a fun in the sun vacation and to get away from this apocalyptic rain forest that is NEW New England, and god knows I'm a whore for the sun, palm tress, beaches, tropics, flip flops, bikinis, surfing, and partying, but mind you, everywhere you go is a world of its own.

Yes, where rednecks molest alligators and you have a 40% chance of being murdered just driving to the post office.

Something tells me this was probably created by some 80 year old golfer in Boca. 

So, I'm thinking of adding a new segment here where I elaborate on some of the things I've tweeted, experienced, and talked about throughout the week because, well, it gives me more shit to post about and I have to mention that they're subjects which were tweeted because many of you have probably seen it tweeted, and that would be lame if you heard about it twice without explanation.

Tonight I was in a restaurant and this guy (probably about 60-70-ish) was stomping around unnecessarily like a buffalo with a family size dinner in his hands and a friend of mine said "He's going to eat that whole plate and break the place down." 

(Mind you, this isn't a weight thing. He didn't seem that big at all to me. This a "Why the hell are you stampeding across the floor like a buffalo holding a plate to feed a family of four all to yourself" thing)

Surely enough right before we left, the guy broke the chair and fell out of it and tumbled to the the floor in front of the whole restaurant and that's when it hit me like a pile of bricks - "This has absolutely nothing to do with my blog post, but I'm gonna put it in there anyway". Then it hit me like a sack of crab legs - "I'm going to elaborate on some of my interesting and humorous tweets from this week".

So here we go - "Shit I mentioned on Twitter", & "Down the Rabbit Hole".

Down in Florida I had completely forgotten about the consequences of having to share a room with my mother, and it hadn't hit me till after the first night when I was crying and holding myself , pulling my hair out and slapping myself in the head on the bathroom floor with a pillow. 

True story.

My father says the shit my mother says in her sleep is the most screwed up, psychedelic rabbit hole he's ever been down, and with that, I couldn't agree more...... I was reminded.

The second night she wakes up suddenly out of a sound sleep:

- "I just had the worst nightmare!!"

- "What happened, Ma?"

- "We were singing under the lollipop tree and allll the colors broke!"

- "That's a nightmare, mom?"

- "It is to me!

Someone kept screaming 'What about the green one?! What about the green one?!'......... Like, what about it? What the fuck about it?! IT'S JUST LIME!"

This unfortunately just got worse as the week went on.

- "OMG, I just has the biggest Italian fight!

All the chandeliers came down, someone called me a meatball!"

- "Wait a minute, mom........What the hell is going on now?"

- "I......I don't know what to say. We were burglarized by Bird's Eye!"

- "WHAT?"

(I thought this was some secret service shit before I found out she was talking about frozen peas)

- "What's your favorite way to have fish, Ba?"

- "WHAAATTT?! What. the. fuck?!" *In Tears*

- "Ya know........ A lot of people don't realize the value of stewed tomatoes."

- "Really now?"

- "They don't!!"

"Look, Ba, it's a periwinkle!"

- "Oh, god!

What do you mean?" *afraid to ask*

- "Well, you know how the sun sets on a rock? It's setting on a periwinkle. It's just sitting there all fat and stupid."

- "What the ffffffuck!"

- "BA???"

(One of my many nicknames, somehow short for "Bitsy")

- "Yeah, mom?"

- "How's she doing that with the chick peas?"

- "Who?"

- "I wanna be on The Real Housewives of New Jersey."

- "Kill me now."

*************************************

I go to Florida at least once a year to get away from all the humdrum of regular life & spend weeks at a time with my uncles or watch their house while their on vacation, and this time was quite different than the others so far. This new reality with all going on back home and with all going on back there with my uncle's cancer & all was another dimension. In fact, this new reality of mine had driven me to drink.

....Al the way down to the bottom of a 1.75 liter.

The actual bottle

Bottoms up!

I ended up spending most of my week melting like butter at the beach, getting ripped on tequila, compulsively shopping and tweeting, and abusing Foursquare.

Getting word of some goings on back home.

Meanwhile, World War III breaks out down in Florida with an epic drunk and shirtless fight between the uncles, after my one uncle had fallen down onto the floor of the dining room numerous times from too many cuckoo pills and bottles of scotch and a no sugar, no carb, no food diet combo that would make Judy Garland look like Strawberry Shortcake.

Then the Twitter spelling owl came to my aid. Now I don't know what's up with this cockamamie bastard, but he thought he knew how to spell "pinscher" better than me.

So, my vacation was awesome!!!

I'm going to update my Flickr & actually attempt to put the photo stream on the sidebar of my blog here, so you can actually see some of the nice parts of my vacation, but we'll see because there's a strong dose of Murphy's Law going around right now.

And now I can officially say "I hope you're all having a wonderful start to this summer!" =D

Because mine has been as fun as a bonfire on the beach, and as interesting as a bonfire on the beach with burning bodies in it.

A Twenty Spot & You Too Can Look Pretty Much Horrifying

I know tanning can be a controversial subject; the potentially harmful effects on the skin, yada, yada, but that's not what we're discussing here today. No, today it's about the fact that I have been somewhat addicted to that cocoa glow on & off for years now, and yes, I tan indoors occasionally because it gets you evenly, quickly, and you don't have to bead sticky sweat under the blazing sun for hours to get a beautiful color.

Mere minutes, some crazy, incredibly high-powered fans, grooving to some music in the nude & you're a walking bronze statue. How could some pasty Irish girl not be alll over that shit?!

So, even though I'm convinced I know what I'm doing with my excessive moisturizing & avoiding burning, my fears still creep up on me once in a while. ESP. with my Irish skin. What if I start getting those spots?!

I don't want to end up one of those women who's a walking piece of beef jerky & skin soup because she fried herself constantly for 20+ years like a leather wrapped strip of bacon.

As you may know, there are many alternatives nowadays. You know, from instant tanning lotions that don't work to pills that turn you fucking orange.

I call bullshit on where all the oompa loompas came from.
I'll give you a hint-Spring break.

Considering I recently started tanning again, I've been reminded of my spray tanning incidents gone awry.

 So, in the past few years Mystic Tan has come out with something I figured was the answer-The Mystic Tans spray tanning booth.

It seemed to be the answer for many people with fears of the risks of tanning, it had to be the answer for me, right?

Well, this is where I point out to you that this pixi's luck in some arenas may be a lil different and that I've learned time & time again that what works for most probably isn't going to go right for my ass.

So, on this day of my first spray tan I am so psyched. I have a weekend long date in VT with this hot guy I liked (Who turned out to be the loser of losers & careless, shitfaced drivers, but another story for another time maybe), and I'm happy I'm able to pull off weeks worth of tanning in one 6 minute spray session.

I don't buy all the special before lotions they suggest because the ditz behind the counter tells me I can do without it & gave me some simple lotion they had on hand, so I pick out my color cartridge & head for the booth.

The booth............

(The robotic goddamn gas chamber)

"I will break your legs, boss you around, and spooge in your face."

I had no idea this was really the case till it was too late.

I walk into Captain Picard's lil capsule there onto this octagon metal floor traced with footprint patterns.

I wasn't sure if this was like one of those Dance Dance Revolution games where I had to dance to the Macarena just to turn this on, but because of the cheap lotion (And my lack of booties. And how TF was I supposed to know I needed booties), I was slipping & sliding all over this thing like I was fighting for dear life.

I finally get a lil bit of a grip & insert my cartridge (Uh haha, Beavis), and this voice echoes from all corners like fucking 2010 Space Odyssey.

I have no time to think or even blink before I start getting hosed down in this chemical substance that smells so toxic it really seems like no living thing on this earth should be within 100 miles of it.

This robot bitch is yelling at me, telling me to move my feet onto all different numbered footprints & positions with my naked ass in a shower cap while this machine is giving me golden showers from every angle & I'm just trying so hard not to breathe or break my legs, and this lil routine either unlocks some key to the universe or it's a futuristic game of nuclear Twister. Either way it's like McDonalds meat-I'm hatin' it.

The only thing this was missing was a robotic hand that picks you up & slams you into the walls till you're knocked unconscious.

Here's an older, less deluxe version.

See what I mean? For that type of shit I at least expect breakfast in the morning.

I was thrilled a few hours later when I noticed myself getting darker & darker, and the color itself did look natural.

But when I got to Vermont & was sitting on a grassy knoll with my date in my cute lil mini skirt & noticed my Zebra legs, it wasn't so awesome.

I KNOW it's not a Zebra. It's a Jack Ass, take a hint.

Now this is an ongoing issue with me & you're bound to hear the words "You'd think I had learned my lesson" many times in the future of this blog.

Because a year later I found myself in some weird no name tanning salon that was probably just someone's basement, naked & being sprayed from a canister I swear I have in my garage, by some weird lady, only to have it start raining the second I walked out of there, and have YOU ever seen somebody literally peel & chip like the led paint on an old house?

Remember Death Becomes Her?

I could have used my own mortician too.

This IS what happens when spray tanning goes wrong.

It's like, The Hulk dipped in golden hershey squirts.
The guy on the right, not the one on the left.

I'm going to stick with the lamps until there's a better solution or I learn to do that shit right me thinks.
I mean, even if it can look normal on some people when done right, the facts are still the facts. The reality is a lot like this till your next few showers & tanning session....

Be smart. No one takes a clown seriously.