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My husband is a philanthropist!  I know, you probably already figured that out since he’s married to me.

That’s not the only charitable thing he’s done.  He does more!

He recently launched a non-profit group for a film festival.

20130731082359-sham_logo_square__1_Not that kind of “film.”  Why are my readers such pervs? (I love you guys for it.)

The Sham Film Festival is my husband’s non-profit that will take place in April 2014.  The goal of the Sham Film Festival is simple: to bring together a group of talented filmmakers (amateur, professional, student, weekender, whatever) and watch as they mock, spoof and satirize everything from reality TV shows to misleading movie trailers.

Sounds both fun and hilarious, correct?

Well so is this little promo video you should watch about it.   You will laugh and then be compelled to donate.   Even if you don’t laugh, please donate.

After you watch the video, read below to find out what’s in it for you.

What’s in it for you?  It’s tax deductible!  It’s a federally registered 501c(3) non-profit, so you can deduct the donation on your taxes.

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This guy really wants you to donate. He will be sad if you don’t. Please don’t let him down. Hasn’t he suffered enough being married to me?

As if that isn’t enough, if you donate $10 or more, you will get a sweet LisaNewlin.com bumper sticker. This is an offer just for you guys, my dear readers.

Yeah, that’s huge.

You don’t have to put it on your bumper.  You can put it up at work or tape it to your boobs and wear it as a t-shirt.  You know what?  If you donate $50 or more, you’ll get a LisaNewlin.com t-shirt.  If you donate more than $50 I will give you something super awesome that’s LisaNewlin.com related.

Mind = blown.

How will I know you donated?  Leave me a note in the comments after you’ve donated or send me an email at info@lisanewlin.com.  I will double check (not that I think you’re a liar) and then I will get your info and send you your prize!

SIMPLE! So get to watching and get to donating, and get to sharing.  Please feel free to share this post and/or video with everyone you know.

Do it for me.  Do it for Matt.  Do it for ‘Merica!

http://www.indiegogo.com/projects/help-launch-the-sham-film-festival

THANK YOU!

photo credit: SplodgusMaximus via photopin cc

photo credit: SplodgusMaximus via photopin cc

Okay, maybe the second part of that title isn’t true in the sense that you’re thinking.  I won’t be on TV for Nickelodeon. The first part of the title is totally true.  Marc Summers should absolutely look out for me. I’ve got a Double Dare I think he will like.

Now back to me.

For some insane reason, I’m now one of the writers for NickMom.com.  It’s run by Nickelodeon (obviously) and I am now a contributing writer to them. Cool, huh?

Yes, I know I’m not a mom, but that’s the part that’s so cool.  I’m so good they wanted me even though I’m not a mom.  I’m pretty much in high demand after that video interview with Wendi McLendon-Covey.

None of that about being in high demand is true, but if you believe it, then I should also tell you I weigh 110 pounds and have the singing voice of an angel.

I'm as excited as this guy! photo credit: Vaughan via photopin cc

I’m as excited as this guy!
photo credit: Vaughan via photopin cc

My posts for NickMom will be short and hilarious.  Here’s my first post over there.  Please go to the link below and show NickMom that you love me and that I should eventually take over the network and run all things Nickelodeon.

I can then move on to MTV.  I don’t want to shoot to high at the beginning.

Did you know Nickelodeon is owned by the same company that owns MTV?

Yeah, I totally knew that too.

photo credit: thecreatrus via photopin cc

photo credit: thecreatrus via photopin cc

Seriously though, go to this link and read the list of my 9 suggested ways to answer a telemarketer phone call.  It’s funny and you’ll learn something too. After all, isn’t that what Nickelodeon is all about? (Cue inspirational music and video of a shooting star.)

Don’t make me beg. Check out this link so Nickelodeon doesn’t fire me after one post.  I suspect I’ll mess this gig up on my own.

Note to self:  Don’t cuss on Nickelodeon.  After all, You Can’t Do That On Television.

Yeah, I totally went there.

Now you need to go here.

And seriously Marc Summers.  Watch yourself.

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http://www.nickmom.com/more-lols/much-more-proper-ways-to-answer-telemarketer-phone-calls/?xid=lisanewlin

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Isn't he cute?

Isn’t he cute?

My husband and I recently decided to test the bounds of our relationship:  We took on a home improvement project.

When we bought our house, the guest bedroom was a shade of baby blue that no baby has ever been able to successfully rock.

Unfortunately, we were too tired from bossing the moving men around to paint the room back then, but we figured we’d get to it later.

***Enter five years later***

A few weeks ago we decided to take on this painting project.

Maybe we were incapacitated, or maybe we were just stupid, but either way, we decided to paint the room and roll the dice on if our marriage would survive.

Cleaning before painting.  Even though paint wasn't opened at this point, it was still crucial he wore the HazMat suit.

Cleaning before painting. Even though paint hasn’t been opened at this point, it’s crucial to wear the HazMat suit.

SIDE NOTE:  Home Depot and Lowe’s should add a complimentary divorce kit to any home improvement project purchase over $200.  It would be an excellent service to their customers.

Fortunately, our marriage (and our walls) survived painting and redoing our bedroom.

Of course, my husband said a few funny things throughout the day that helped get me through.

Smelling paint thinner also helped.

 

Idea Man

The kids are using Pinterest these days.  They tell me there’s good stuff on there.”

FOR THE REST OF THE DAY, WHENEVER WE SAW ANYTHING WE LIKED AT THE STORE…

Pin it!

Inspirational Speaker

We haven’t made any mistake that can’t be fixed.”

LESS THAN 2 MINUTES LATER….

Well, that can’t be fixed!

Doesn't it look like he's not wearing shorts under his painting suit?  He is, but still...

Doesn’t it look like he’s not wearing shorts under his painting suit? He is, but still…

The Musician

Lisa:  “I have California Girls in my head.”

Matt:  “Crap.  Now I do too. Wait, which one?  Katy Perry or the Beach Boys version?  I want to be on the same page.”

The Martyr

Matt:  “I’m tired and hungry.”

Lisa:  “Poor baby.  How do you do it?  How do you forge ahead when things are this difficult?

Matt:  “One day at a time…<sighs and hold head down> One day at a time…

Wealth of Knowledge

Matt:  “There was an interesting article the other day about how people are able to walk across hot coals.”

Lisa:  “How do they do it?

Matt:  “I don’t know.  I didn’t read the article.”

The Fashionista

Lisa:  “You can’t wear your Chuck Taylors while you paint.”

Matt:  “I can wear my Chuck Taylors and do anything.”

Can you believe he chose the Chuck Taylor's that most closely matched his outfit?

Can you believe he chose the Chuck Taylor’s that most closely matched his outfit?

ambushed.jpg<<<<<<<I’m re-posting this one, as it happened over Christmas, but it’s one of my all-time favorite stories, and it’s such a funny memory.  I think you will enjoy, assuming you like pubes humor.

If you don’t like humor about pubes, you probably shouldn’t be reading this blog anyway…

ENJOY!>>>>>>>

Beautiful, right?

Beautiful, right?

Yes, I realize that brilliant graphic above and the title of this post isn’t how you spell “ambushed.”  I was trying to give you a hint as to what this blog post would be about, and I wanted to do it creatively, because I’m awesome that way.

Hopefully you can look past the spelling and look to the hilarity of the story.  You should, because the story is amaze-balls.

And before we go any further, how awesome is my drawing for this one?  I did it on Paint and it only took me an hour.  I’m so talented.

Every year, Matt and I go to Mexico to celebrate the Christmas holiday.  By “celebrate” we mean we lay in the sun all day, drink fruity drinks, and occasionally look at each other and say “Oh crap, its Christmas!  I totally forgot!”

We don’t go to Mexico because we don’t like Christmas; we just don’t like cold weather, or obligatory functions, or any kind of holiday that requires purchasing gifts.  (If you have a job and/or a bank account, you can buy yourself a gift.  I’m not waiting in line to get you a gift card to Starbucks.  FYI.)

drinks on the beachThis year was no different and we spent the holidays lounging on the beach, silently passing judgment on people as they walked by. (Sometimes not so silently, depending on the quantity and potency of the cocktails.)

We don’t do this to be mean, but mostly just to entertain ourselves, and because there are some seriously freaky people in this world…or at least in Puerto Vallarta over the holidays.

A few days ago I was scanning my surroundings, just taking in the scenery.  Okay, so what I was really doing was looking around for the waiter on the beach to check on the status of my refill of my Bahama mama drink.

He was nowhere to be found (probably/hopefully because he was making me another drink).  Instead of finding the waiter, I found something far better.

A young woman, probably in her early 20s, was walking up the beach from the water.  She was skinny and wearing a tiny bikini.  As I looked at her, I noticed something on her crotch area.  Immediately, I suspected she somehow got seaweed caught on her leg while she was in the ocean.

Because I’m a super caring person (and because I wanted to check on my drink status), I decided to get up  further investigate.  I figured if she had seaweed on her lady parts, she would probably want to know so she could remove it.  It’s the least I could do.

photo credit: jenny downing via photopin cc

photo credit: jenny downing via photopin cc

Oh god, how I wish it was seaweed on the inner parts of her legs.  If only….

As I approached, I realized it wasn’t seaweed, but rather an explosion of pubic hair coming out of her bikini and crawling down her legs.

I say it was crawling because I swear it was alive and quite mobile.  I saw it swaying in the wind and immediately imagined what it would look like when she was in the water.

The movement of it would most likely be confused by a snorkeling 10 year old as a different kind of seaweed.

It looked like it was busting out of her bikini bottom, as if it was trying to escape the constraints of her tiny cotton suit.  I could almost hear it gasping for air, or at least for a good shampoo and conditioner.

Naturally, I alerted my husband immediately.  I feel like this is one of those obligations a wife has to her husband.

In addition to honoring and cherishing, blah blah blah, I think there’s something in the vows about promising to alert your husband at the sighting of out of control bush at a beach.

photo credit: •●pfaff via photopin cc

photo credit: •●pfaff via photopin cc

If it isn’t in the vows, it should be, because that’s the kind of stuff that can break up a marriage otherwise.  I’m a caring wife that way.

Matt’s reaction was similar to mine.  He was horrified and happy, all at the same time.  We were both completely intrigued and decided to try to get a closer look.  Who was this creature who felt so uninhibited as to display her female whiskers.

Also, we wanted to make sure we took our camera to capture a photo of this remarkable sighting.  After all, I’m a journalist and this was just the kind of investigation you, my readers, depend upon.

I failed.  Just FYI so you don’t get all excited about seeing a photo of an untamed bush, and then you get disappointed when you don’t find it.  Part of you knew I would fail because I’m not really that great of a journalist, and I think posting photos of a stranger’s bush might put my blog into a porn category.

I’m not ready for that kind of traffic yet, so for now, you’re going to have to use your imagination.  Plus, this isn’t that kind of blog.  I try to keep it classy, people.

As we got closer to her, we confirmed what we already knew.  It was an overgrown forest between her legs.

No, it wasn’t a forest, it was a goddamn jungle.  Perhaps she wasn’t capable of trimming or removing it because it was just too strong…like maybe it was the Hulk Hogan of pubic hair.  I wondered if it wore a bandanna and called everyone “brother.”

bush.jpg

Please note the image is an artist rendering.  It’s not an actual photo.

I could only imagine what kind of sheers would be needed to slay that dragon down south.  Perhaps that’s why it was so out of control.  No razor could tame it.

No blade would step up to the task.  What she needed was Arthur from Disney’s beloved “The Sword in the Stone.”  Perhaps he was the only thing strong enough to tame that mane.

*Of note:  Arthur is also known in the movie as “Wart” which poses an interesting question about whether the massive bush was hiding something more serious…like herpes.  It also demonstrates my uncanny knowledge of Disney movies and characters.

Perhaps the only thing that would knock out a mass of hair that size would be a fire.  But then again, if she used that method, she would have a burning bush, and I don’t think that’s what Moses was talking about in the Bible.  However, he was in the dessert sand, so perhaps there’s some truth to this theory…

We approached cautiously, careful not to alarm it. I couldn’t help but say “It looks like she has two dead animals plastered to the sides of her legs.”

I bet two dead animals would smell better than what she’s got going on down there,” was my humble husband’s response.  I suspect he wasn’t wrong.

Blond Boy Crying

We followed her flowing fringe until “Miss Bush” arrived at her destination.  Unfortunately, it was not the salon for a wax.  Rather, she met up with her “friends” who were lounging on chairs on the beach.  The reason I use the term “friends” so loosely is because anyone who lets another person go out in public with pubic hair like that, is no friend at all.

Am-BUSHEDBut her friends got what they deserved, because she began talking to them while continuing to stand…while they continued to lounge in their chairs.  This provided a front row viewing of the lady mustache she was sporting.  (I just made up that term “lady mustache.”  Let’s make that a thing.)

It was obvious by their faces that her friends were aware of the vagina wig.  (There’s another one! “Vagina wig” is pure gold!  I can’t stop with creating these slang terms!)

But funnier than the faces of her friends staring down the barrel of her beard, was the face of the clearly traumatized 14 year old boy standing nearby.  I’m completely serious.

Matt and I had to stifle our laughter at that poor, tortured soul who was horrified and wanted to look away, but couldn’t find the strength to turn away from the lady sideburns.

(That’s it.  I’m going on the road with this act and all the names I’m making up for a woman’s bush.)

I wanted to comfort the poor lass, and tell him not all women’s genitalia looked like the base player from Guns ‘N’ Roses.  (Slash may have been an ugly dude, but he knew how to stroke that guitar.)

I also wanted to give him this month’s edition of Playboy to show him what classy pubic hair look like, but Matt left it on the plane for an uncomfortable stewardess to find.  (He finds this prank hilarious.  He also likes to whip it out in the middle of the flight and make the person next to him extremely uncomfortable.  And I’m talking about whipping out the Playboy magazine, not something else, you perv.)

It was at that point that we decided to go back to our lounge chairs and stop staring at the freak show of frizz.  It was starting to look angry and I swear that thing waved at me as we walked by.

We returned to our lounge chairs stunned and scarred from what we just viewed.  We knew we would never be the same, and for as long as we lived, the Mexico Christmas vacation of 2012 would forever be known to us simply as “Bushapalooza.”  We’re having t-shirts made.

Ulta-BeautyI guess I really spilled the beans in the title of this blog post, so you pretty much know my big news.  I guess it’s also not surprising that I spilled the beans, as I spill pretty much everything.

It’s also probably not surprising that I referred to beans in this post, what with all my fiber issues and such…

MOVING ON!

I went to BlogHer 2013 in Chicago a few weeks ago and had a blast.  For those of you who don’t know blog-speak, BlogHer is a national convention with over 5,000 bloggers and tons of free shit.

I’m serious.  There is literally lots and lots of free shit, including vibrators and lube.

I’m not kidding.

ULTA Beauty was a sponsor of BlogHer, and somehow, the lovely women at the Richards Group Advertising Agency found me and thought I was funny.

I know.  Ree—-dic.

They had me shoot a little video, which I thought was just for fun, so I agreed. (I’m sure that’s what Farrah Abraham said about the sex video too…just for fun.) I figured they wanted the video for the sole purpose of laughing at me and making fun of my inability to use eyeliner.  They wouldn’t be wrong if that was their reason.

Apparently they liked my video and showed it to Wendi McLendon-Covey who thought I was funny.  Allow me to say that again, people, WENDI-MCLENDON-COVEY THOUGHT I WAS FUNNY!

Obviously she pitied me and my inability to use eyeliner.

You know who she is. She was the busty cop on Reno 911 and the sex-crazed mother in Bridesmaids who complained about her semen-infested home.

bridesmaids-photo-ellie-kemper-melissa-mccarthy-wendi-mclendon

Courtesy of Universal Pictures

Since she loved me and wanted to become my best friend thought I was funny, ULTA asked me to interview Wendi for their ULTA Beauty LOL marketing campaign, which is all about embarrassing beauty moments.  Naturally, I’m the perfect person to talk about embarrassing moments, so it was a perfect fit.  I know nothing about beauty, but I guess they figured I could wing it.

I met Wendi and did an interview with her, which was fun and exciting.  There were sound guys and cameras and a boom mic and everything, so you know it was legit.  THERE WAS A BOOM MIC, PEOPLE!  That’s the big time.

My interview was edited down to a 30 second clip that will be used for ULTA’s social media for their Beauty LOL campaign.  Cool, huh?  It’s a good thing they edited it because in our conversation we discussed key parties and having a stroke.  I’m not kidding.

It’s hard to believe she’s even funnier and more beautiful in real life than she is on camera, but she is.  She’s in a new show this fall called The Goldbergs.  It’s about a family in the 80s, so you know it will be hilarious.

For now, I hope my video with Wendi and ULTA will hold you over.  Please feel free to share this and splatter me all over the internet.  This is the one video I’m actually happy to share, and one that won’t result in indecency charges being filed against me.

DISCLAIMER:  I know I look horrible in this video.  They say the camera adds 10 pounds but I’m pretty sure the camera they used added at least 100 pounds.  

 

Yes, you read that right!  I’m now a published author, and have a piece in the book, “You Have Lipstick on Your Teeth’ And Other Things You’ll Only Hear From Your Friends In The Powder Room which was released today.

Obviously, since I’m in it, you know the quality is top notch, and the other writers are equally hilarious. Honestly, I have no idea how I was asked to write for this book, but I’m not going to knock it.

I suspect they really wanted to ask Lisa Lampanelli instead, and just confused email addresses.

Whatever the reason, I’ll take it!  I just hope they don’t realize Lisa Lampanelli isn’t in this book.

So please, oh please, check out this book, and by “check out this book” I mean buy it.  Don’t check it out at the library, as that’s lame.  I mean, who uses libraries anymore?  Okay, lots of people do, but whatever.

BUY THE BOOK!

It’s available for Kindle and in paperback, and I believe more options will be released soon.

Please note one of the other options coming soon is not for me to come to your house and read it to you personally, although that could be an option if you pay me in cupcakes and Chipotle gift cards.

Lipstick photoIf you’re interested in the exciting possibility of a live reading, please contact my agent at info@lisanewlin.com. Sure, that looks like it’s just my email address to my blog, but my super important agent checks it from there as she likes to keep a low profile.

Okay, my agent is me, but whatever.

Seriously.  Please buy the book and tell everyone you know to buy it too. Perhaps you should just buy a bulk order and send it to everyone you know. I can guarantee you will laugh.

Come to think of it, you should buy a package of Depends when you buy the book because you’ll probably pee your pants with laughter (especially if you’ve had children and the resulting loss of bladder control that’s a side-effect of giving birth.)

I will stop babbling now because you’re going to go buy the book.  It’s currently in the top 50 on the Amazon Best Seller List for Humor, so obviously lots of other people love it too.

Either that, or my mom is taking out a second mortgage to purchase all the books she can.  Either/Or.  Just buy it.

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http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00EA7ZNHO

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**On a serious note, thank you to every one of you who read this blog.  I couldn’t do this without your support and I’m so grateful for each of you.  Although I know many of you, there are many I don’t know, which is perhaps the coolest part of all of this.  You all make me believe it’s possible to achieve my dream of becoming a humor writer.  THANK YOU!**

 

 

Source:  Kobi Levi http://kobilevidesign.com/index.php/footwear/miao.html

Source: Kobi Levi
http://kobilevidesign.com/index.php/footwear/miao.html

It’s no surprise I’m a dog lover.  The dog hair on my clothes and the faint smell of urine give that away fairly easily.

Yeah…the  urine smell is from the dogs…

Recently, one of my fellow dog-lovers shared a photo with me that I felt compelled to share with you.  Fortunately, my friend isn’t Anthony Weiner, so I can share the photo here instead of burying it in the back of my mind and seeking therapy immediately.

(Really Weiner?  You send dick pics and your name is Weiner?  If it wasn’t disgusting it could actually be kind of awesome.)

Okay, enough with the Weiner talk.  (That’s what she said.)

Seriously, guys.  Focus.

Here’s the non-perverted photo my friend shared with me.  Can you believe it? They’re shoes by designer Kobi Levi that look like a dog.

Sure, the dog is headless, but let’s not get too judgy about the accuracy of the shoes and why this is a headless hound.  I have way too many other things to be judgey about with these shoes.

Let’s get started.

http://kobilevidesign.com/index.php/footwear/miao.html

How long can this one hold the downward dog position?
http://kobilevidesign.com/index.php/footwear/
miao.html

First thing’s first, where do I get these fine furry friends?  Do I have to adopt them from a shelter or will I have to go to a breeder for them?

Quite honestly, they look high end, which suggests a breeder was involved in these sweet kicks.

Either way, these sure give new meaning to the phrase “designer dogs.”

If I adopt them, what do I do when I don’t want them anymore because they pee on the floor and chew up my underwear furniture?  Is my only option to put them down…literally?

Are they up-to-date on shots or do I have to pay for that separately?

What kind of care do these puppy pumps require?  Is food and water needed or just a good brushing every now and then?

Do they shed?  I can’t take another shedding dog in my house, so this furry footwear needs to be shed-free.

Is this one napping? http://kobilevidesign.com/index.php/footwear/miao.html

Is this one napping?
http://kobilevidesign.com/index.php/footwear/miao.html

I realize Kobi Levi designed these shoes, but do you think he sold the design to Hush Puppies?  Do you think that’s why the brand is called Hush Puppies?  Because these shoes don’t know how to keep the barking down to a minimum?

Perhaps these dogs literally bark when you wear them.  If so, that would give new meaning to the phrase “My dogs are barking.”

How will they react to the doorbell? Will they cower in a corner and pee on the floor, or will they howl until the intruder leaves the premises?

How will they react to other dogs?  Will they immediately sniff a dog’s crotch and then begin humping him or her?

Where exactly are the genitals located on these shoes?  How do I know if they’re male or female?  Are they spayed or neutered?

Judging by this photo, I’d say these shoes are girls, as I see no sagging fur balls hanging low.  Are the male version loafers for men?

Do these shoes make you randomly start humping people whenever the need arises?  If so, that could be an explanation for Kim Kardashian’s hoe-bag behavior.  The shoes did it!

Nah, she’s still a slut-bag.

Can you wear these shoes around cats or will they immediately get into a scuffle with any feline?

Will they randomly start chasing their tail? This is important information I need to know, as I already have enough challenges just walking normally without having my shoes break out into play.

Are they like most dogs and go crazy for bones?  If so, what kind?  Will they go crazy for the bones in my feet or are they looking for something more of the Nylabone variety?

Do they like to dig and bury bones?  If so, I’m in trouble, as they’re already in the position to start digging to retrieve my metatarsals.  Will they try to hide those or will they just gnaw on them until my feet are numb?

I guess if that’s the case, I can definitely say “These puppies are hurting my feet.”

Do these shoes know how to heel or do they also come in flats?  (Yes, this was a bad pun. I know.)

How do I protect them from wear and tear?  Do I give them a monthly flea dip?

Are these shoes trained to fetch the paper and my slippers on a Sunday morning, or will they stay in bed and hog the covers?

What do I do with them when I want to leave the house?  Do I have to put them in a kennel or will they be good and not tear up the house?

I have so many questions about these shoes, none of which are answered.  I guess I will never know unless I purchase a pair myself.  Either way, I suspect they all have perfect soles…just like most dogs do.

Puppy pumps

photo (83)

From left to right:
Driedonmilk.com
lisanewlin.com
adayinthewife.com

I attended BlogHer again this year, and I was not disappointed.  I learned a lot including the fact Queen Latifah has some rocking biceps and Wendi McLendon-Covey is even funnier in person.

Cha. As if that was possible.

I took quite a bit away from the conference, including some great swag bags and a few embarrassing pictures I will promptly burn.

In addition to those, I took away memories of a great time and great friends.

For those of you who missed this year’s BlogHer, I’ve compiled a list of a few things I overheard this year at the conference.

These will make you feel like you were there, although it won’t give you the full experience of answering sex questions and winning Trojan products only after spinning a wheel.

You’re going to have to experience that in person next year.

Yes, this is really driedonmilk.com wearing a plastic measuring cup we got for free.  You're supposed to use them to measure your cup size, but we used them as hats to mimic ANTM poses.  That's what everyone uses them for, right?

Yes, this is really driedonmilk.com wearing a plastic measuring cup we got for free. You’re supposed to use them to measure your cup size, but we used them as hats to mimic ANTM poses. That’s what everyone uses them for, right?

“We really bonded over sizing each other’s boobs with measuring cups.”

“I loved Queen Latifah but didn’t see her crown anywhere?.  Do you think she is related to the Royal Baby?”

“Sorry, my vibrator is in the way.”

Did you visit the butt paste people yet?”

“Do you mind if I plug my iPhone, iPad, and laptop into this one outlet?”

“Is this my lube or is it yours?”

“Did you notice the Bearded Iris is neither bearded nor is her name Iris?”

Yes, it's a wheel of Trojan products.  And it was awesome.

Yes, it’s a wheel of Trojan products. And it was awesome.

“How am I going to fit all this toilet paper in my suitcase?”

“I’m going to swing by the Coca Cola booth and blast my abs really quick before this next session.”

“You’re the only non-grandma I know who can rock blue hair from the Windex booth.”

“Do you think I could get another pedometer?  Mine had an unfortunate drowning death in the women’s restroom.”

“Good God, these swag bags are heavy!”

“This was the greatest time ever and I can’t wait to do it again next year!”

Above all others, I heard the last quote the most.

Thanks to BlogHer for another great conference and another great year of fun.

Check out all this free swag!  We hit it big at the Wheel o' Trojan!

Check out all this free swag! We hit it big at the Wheel o’ Trojan!

 

overhear at blogher

 

 

 

Lisa and Matt birthday 2013As you know, my husband and I went on a romantic trip to Vegas.  (Constantly being propositioned by overweight men to  engage in sexual encounters with others is romantic, right?)

Fortunately for me, I had my husband’s random comments to keep me entertained and keep my focus away from the men in thongs and wedges on the Strip. (I don’t need to be reminded that a 45 year old guy looks better in Spandex than I do.)

Because I know how much you love these nuggets of wisdom from my beloved, I jotted down a few of his musings to share with you.  Enjoy.

Tour Guide

photo credit: otzberg via photopin cc

photo credit: otzberg via photopin cc

Matt:  “That’s the Luxor. You can see the beam it shoots up in the air all the way from space.

Lisa:  “Really? From space?!”

Matt:  “Well, maybe not from space, but it goes pretty high.”

Scholar

Lisa:  “Is that book good?

Matt: “I haven’t started yet. I was kind of hoping to wrap up this conversation you’ve got going.

Film Critic

Lisa:  “Meredith Baxter Burney was in a million Lifetime movies.

Matt:  “I don’t know who that is.

Lisa: “She’s the mom from Family Ties.”

Matt: “That’s her? She’s always either getting raped or getting the shit beat out of her on Lifetime.

Beauty Scout

photo credit: viZZZual.com via photopin cc

photo credit: viZZZual.com via photopin cc

Matt: “Look at that chick.”

Lisa:  “What’s wrong with her?”

Matt:  “She looks like she’s seen some shit…like a brick wall.” <Then made hand gesture smashing his hand to his face>

Bully

Matt:  “Are you crabby? Did that hurt? Want me to call the wambulance? I’ll call 9-1-wah.”

Travel Agent

photo credit: Whirling Phoenix via photopin cc

photo credit: Whirling Phoenix via photopin cc

Matt:  “People come here from all over. Some come from Boise. Some come from Idaho.”

Lisa:  “Um, Boise is in Idaho.”

Matt:  “What’s the other place in Idaho?”

Lisa:  “There’s lots of other places in Idaho.”

Matt:  “As far as I’m concerned, it’s all Boise.”

 

Jerry in his favorite surveillance spot.

Jerry in his favorite surveillance spot.

As many of you know, I have a gansta gnome guarding and protecting my home at all times.  

(This is not to be confused with the crazy Bachelorette contestant Kasey, who guards and protects women’s hearts.  My gnome doesn’t do that. He also doesn’t get crazy tattoos while on the season of a reality show.  He’s smarter than that…and he’s a gnome.)

My gansta gnome is Jerry Yardcia, and he keeps me safe from the dangers and threats of living in the suburbs.  He’s pretty hard core.  If you don’t believe me, look at his medallion.

If that doesn’t say bad ass, I don’t know what does.

Since Jerry took over security for the Newlin household, things have been safe and quiet, save for the occasional unwanted humping.  (Our dog Max likes Jerry…a lot.)

Despite the canine advances, lately Jerry looked lonely and in need of a friend.  After all, he can only talk on his mini cell phone so long before the battery goes dead.

We decided something had to be done, and Jerry needed a friend.  Unfortunately, we didn’t know how to go about getting him one, as we didn’t know what type of friend he would prefer.  A talkative friend?  Funny? Quiet?  Old?  Statue?  Bird bath?

Fortunately, we didn’t have to make that decision.  One day, I came home from work and looked Jerry’s direction, hoping to get a report of the happenings of the neighborhood.  I always throw him our secret gang sign so he knows it’s me, as if there’s another woman in a stained dress with Cheeto-stained fingers who frequents the suburbs.

As I threw our super-secret sign of recognition to Jerry, I noticed he was not alone.  He had a friend.  A friend who looked remarkably like him.  Here’s what I saw.

jerry and jernome

They’re multiplying!

Obviously, Jerry’s friend was shy.  He was also a master of disguise, as I could barely see his gy-gnomous head hiding behind the flower bush.

I came inside and asked Matt where the second a-gnomeonyous gnome came from. (Yes, attempting to change “anonymous” into a word using “gnome” was a bit ambitious, but a girl’s gotta try.)

I don’t know.  He just showed up and has been chilling with Jerry all day.”

Indeed.  They appeared to be besties.

Although I was happy for Jerry and his new friend, I wanted to find out more about this mysterious guy.  I had so many questions:  Who was he?  How did he get there? Was this who Jerry was always talking to on his cell?

Jernome

Jernome looking….well…simple.

I approached them both, greeted them, and asked to speak to the new gnome alone.

Jerry complied with my request but told me to keep it short.  I reminded him that he is less than a foot tall, so I had no choice but to keep it short.

NOTE:  Jerry is not a fan of short-jokes.  It’s a delicate subject for him. LESSON LEARNED.

When I was a-gnome with the new gnome he told me he was Jerry’s cousin, and his name was Jer(g)nome.  That explained why they looked so much a like.  (That, and they were both manufactured in the same plant in Thailand.)

Jernome is a man of little words, and not just because he’s only a foot tall.  He was noticeably quiet about his story and where he cam from.

In all fairness, his timidness could be because he’s a statue.

In an effort to get him to tell me more, I got out the garden hose and turned on the water.  All of a sudden, Jernome because far more talkative.

Allegations of water-boarding were made, but those are obviously unwarranted and I will deny any and all such charges.

From what I gathered from Jernome’s quiet demeanor (except when it came to water), he is…ahem….a bit slow.

To put it another way; if our dog Max was a gnome, he would be Jernome.  Come to think of it, if Max was a gnome, he’d still have the same IQ but would probably lick his junk less.

Our sweet, sweet, Max

Our sweet, sweet, Max

Although Jernome didn’t come out and say it, I got the feeling Jerry gave him a job because Jernome couldn’t get a job anywhere else.  I considered suggesting he apply at my favorite Greek restaurant, as the waiters there have no personality and can’t seem to understand that I always want extra Tzatziki sauce on my gyro.

Always.

So for now, Jernome will stay and be Jerry’s wingman.  I suspect his only job will be standing around looking pathetic.  That’s yet another thing he and Max have in common.

I also suspect Jerry will send him on mindless errands just to keep him busy.  So the next time I see Jerry eating a sub sandwich with onions on it, I won’t remind him that onions make him gassy, which kills my hydrangeas.

Instead, I’ll know that Jernome messed up the order, and although Jerry will cut any bitch who stiffs him on a drug deal, he’ll eat onions and endure farts if it means Jernome feels needed.*

*If enduring farts makes one feel needed, then my husband is the most needed man in America.