funny crap my husband says, August 2014I’m not even going to pretend this time that you guys are here to read my writing.  I’ve finally accepted that the real reason my blog stays in business (albiet making no money) is because of the funny crap my husband says.  I really need to trademark this $hit.

This month I have so many that I’ve actually had to hold some back for next month, which is just downright ridiculous.  It’s also a teaser for next month.

Let’s just get this party started.

Television Producer

Matt:  “That relationship is destined to end in a murder-suicide.  When it’s on Dateline it can be called “Murder-suey in St. Louie.”

Humble Servant

Lisa:  “You were right about this ONE thing.  Big deal.  A broken clock is right twice a day.”

Matt:  “Yeah.  And this broken clock was right today.”

This was the item he was right about.  Look at him.  Pure.  Joy.

This was the item he was right about. Look at him. Pure. Joy.

Butter Fingers

<sound of microwave turntable moving in the other room>

Matt:  “It’s ok.  I’m fine.  Don’t worry.”

Lisa:  “I knew what that sound was and I knew you were fine.”

Matt:  “Fortunately I was.  But I could have gotten a bruise that would have lasted for days.”

Employee of the Month

Matt:  “Isn’t that why we all have full time jobs?  So we can print stuff for free?”

Green Thumb

Matt:  “We should go sit outside for lunch and take Shady Jack.”

Lisa:  “That sounds good.  Where do you want to go?”

Matt:  “I don’t know.  I plant the seed of knowledge and you have to water it.”

Celebrating our birthdays that are three days apart.  We ate so much food.  So.  Much.  Food.

Celebrating our birthdays that are three days apart. We ate so much food. So. Much. Food.

Bladder of Steel

Matt:  “You go ahead and get in the pool.  I have to go to the bathroom.”

Lisa:  “Ok.”

Matt:  “Nah.  I’ll just pee in the pool.”

Reasonably Flexible

Lisa:  “Why don’t you just do it this way?  Your way doesn’t make any sense.”

Matt:  “This conversation doesn’t make any sense.”

Mechanical Engineer

Lisa:  “My seatbelt is stuck.  I can’t get it.”

Matt:  “Stop pulling on it and it will work.”

Lisa:  “Ok.  You do it.”

<Matt can’t get it unstuck>

Matt:  “I don’t know why you have to break things.”

Renaissance Man

<laying in bed and pointing to the window next to the bed>

Matt:  “Hey.  I opened up this window with my foot.  Are you impressed?”

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is my husband.  And yes, I married him because he could open a window with his foot.

<swoon>

Which one was your favorite?

Lisa and Matt at Hooers

neonAs my dear readers know, I had a birthday this week.  Normally I love my birthday because it’s an excuse to eat cookie cake without people passing judgment on me (or at least if they do, they keep it to themselves).

When I was a kid I anxiously counted down the weeks until my dig day, knowing I would finally be a year older and closer to being an adult.

When the day finally arrived, my parents would wake me up singing “Happy Birthday.”  I always pretended to hate it, but secretly I loved the attention, even if my dad was off-key.

In the years leading up to my 20s, I continued to look forward to my birthday.

The 21 birthday is a coveted one because it means you can throw away the fake ID, or at least give it to another deserving soul.

The 25th birthday marked what I believe to be the age when people would start taking me seriously.

They didn’t.

Birthday in VegasOnce I got into my 30s, however, I stopped counting down to birthdays with excitement and started counting down with read.

I began thinking of those final days as the last moments I would be young and I cringed with each passing day as my birthday drew near.

This year I realized that’s not the way I want to live my life.  I turned 34 this year.  Yes, 34.  I’m not ashamed to admit that I’m in my mid-thirties and am no longer the young woman I used to be, and I’m okay with it.

Yes, I’m starting to see sun spots on my face and my chest is starting to show signs of years sunbathing with baby oil.  My feet are starting to ache when I stand too long and my stomach is far more sensitive than it used to be.

matt and lisa on mopedThe scars from my gallbladder surgery hurt when I eat too much and I know that sitting on bleachers will irritate my sciatica.

I know all of this, and yet I’m not sad.  I”m happy about it.

Why?  Because those sun spots on my face and chest are from vacations with my loved ones and afternoons at the pool with friends.

My aching feet are from years of exploring the world, hiking a mountain, walking across The Brooklyn Bridge and running a 5k.

My sensitive stomach is from years of drinking beer at the bar and eating at five-star restaurants in Beverly Hills (all the while wondering if we were going to be kicked out for being “commoners”).

Matt and Lisa Family Mexico 2011My gallbladder scars are from when I was hospitalized and became friends with my roommate.

My sciatica acts up when I sit on bleachers because of all the years of basketball games, World Series games, tailgating and college bowl games.

Yes, my body may be more achy than I’d like for it to be.  Yes, my skin may not be as resilient as it once was.

But my soul?  My soul is enriched more each year because of the life experiences I’ve had.

I’m not the person I was when I was 25 and for that I’m grateful.  I don’t want to be that person. It’s not that she was a bad woman; I liked her when I was 25.

But now, I’m the new and improved model.  I may have signs of wear and tear, but I think I’m better than ever.

Matt and Lisa on Beach-dark hairSo this year, I’m celebrating turning 34.  I don’t mean just that I’m having some cake and a day at the spa, although I certainly will do those things.

Rather, I’m talking about celebrating the 33 years I’ve been on this planet, creating memories and enjoying those people I love.

I’m going to look back over my years and take note of my accomplishments and my failures, because both have made me who I am.

I will also look forward to getting older instead of dreading it.  I will embrace each coming year, knowing I’m a better person each year because of the life I’m living.

Lisa with iceeSo when people wish me happy birthday, I won’t roll my eyes, mostly because the shingles on my eye won’t let me roll them.  But I also won’t roll my eyes and complain about getting older.

I will thank the well-wishers and remind myself that my birthday truly is a happy time.  It’s a time to celebrate life and making it through this crazy world one more year.

I will definitely drink to that (and then wash it down with cake).

 

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Love my stuff?  Of course you do!  Then please share it everywhere!  Then you can say you knew me when…

Week 3 of Tinder TuesdaysIt’s Tuesday and I’ve got a doozie lined up for you today.  It’s my birthday today so I wanted to do something extra special for this week’s installment.

This photo won’t disappoint.

From sequins to body hair to inappropriate floating devices, this week’s photo might just be my favorite one so far.  I’ve also decided that for this week only I’m going to post the picture.  I think I’ve done enough editing out to protect the real person’s identity, although I can’t imagine he isn’t well-known wherever he goes.

Either way, enjoy this week’s edition.  Please also feel free to send me money, candy, or any other birthday gifts you deem appropriate.

Tinder Tuesday HulkeThis guy is clearly festive, which is why I chose this as my birthday photo.  Check out his sequined banana hammock.  Nothing says “I know how to please a woman sexually” quite like gold sequined Speedos, although I doubt those are Speedo brand.  He doesn’t strike me as the kind of guy who would go all out for expensive items.

I mean, he clearly can’t invest in a razor for his man-palace.

This brings me to the second part of the photo I’d like to address.  What the hell is going on in his genital region?  Believe me, I don’t want to look there but my eyes can’t help but be drawn to the explosion of hair fighting to escape the sequined thong.

I suspect he had a hard time shoving all of it into those bikini bottoms and the visible hair is what wouldn’t fit.  If you look closely it appears as if part of his junk is actually exposed, although we can’t be certain as its covered by bushes and debris.

Homeboy could use a hedge trimmer.

What makes this even more confusing is the fact that he knows how to groom himself, as his facial hair is…interesting.  For starters, it’s perfectly manicured into two bushes on either side of his face, separated by a strip of skin.  It’s what I can only assume is a landing strip of pleasure.  It’s like a backward version of a Brazilian.

The can in his hand tells me he knows how to party.  Is it a manly beer?  Pft!  Of course not.  It’s Margarita in a can…just like all the real men drink.

This margarita tells me he knows how to party, but is too lazy to make a batch himself (although I’m sure he’s made many batches of his own special sauce…if you know what I’m saying.)

Tinder Tuesday Hulke

Take another look!

Looking to the bottom left of the photo, I see floral cushions mimicking those from the set of “The Golden Girls.”  I suspect they may actually be from the 80s.  I also suspect they’ve seen more action than Blanche Deveraux, and probably have just as many STDs.

Mixed in with the cushions is what appears to be a giant inflatable wiener.  I’m not sure I know what to say about this.  It’s a giant inflatable wiener.  Nuff said.

As if an inflatable wiener amongst floral cushions isn’t odd enough…there’s an Asian umbrella.  Quite honestly, I expected to see an Asian umbrella in this photo, but I thought it would be in Mr. Love’s drink.  No such luck.

Maybe the umbrella means he cares about protection…or he likes tea at high noon.

And what kind of vessel is he riding?  (I  bet his pick up line would be something about how you should “ride his vessel.”)  It looks like he’s on a barge or large dock of some sort.

What’s particularly interesting is the fact that there is a pool on the vessel.   I’m not sure why he would need a body of water on top of another body of water.

The only logical conclusion is that he sweats profusely and likes to be near water to cool off and let his chest hair flow with the water.

It also looks like there’s a pole in the background to the right.  I can’t tell what’s flying from it but one thing’s for sure:  it’s his freak flag.

What’s also funny is the fact there are people in the background who don’t seem surprised or shocked that a sweaty and hairy beast in a sequined thong is drinking a can of margaritas.

I’m not sure what kind of party this is and I can’t decide if I want to be invited.

I bet there’s crabs in the water.

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Do you love my blog? Do you love Tinder Tuesdays?  Then please share me so others can get in on the fun!  Post me on Facebook, email my blog to friends…whatever.

Just don’t sign me up for Tinder.  I will seriously cut you if you do.

funny crap my husband says, july 2014My husband frequently blurts out nuggets of wisdom, most of which are unintentional, all of which are hilarious.  I’m not sure where he comes up with this crap.  I probably don’t want to know.

Either way, here’s the monthly installment of some of the ridiculous things he’s said in the past month.

And no, he wasn’t drunk when he said any of them.  It’s a fair question.

Millionaire

Lisa:  “Do you know what swagbucks are?”

Matt:  “No.  But I figure I must have at least a million of them in the bank.”

Dating Coach

Matt:  “Tinder is like Match.com minus the dignity.”

Musician

Lisa:  “You don’t know this band?”

Matt:  “No.”

Lisa:  “It’s Color Me Badd.”

Matt:  “Well, color me embarrassed.”

photo 1Pool Boy

Matt:  “There’s a difference between peeing in the pool and peeing into the pool  One is way more subtle.”

Foodie

Matt:  “I had a dream we went to a strip club for lunch and we had the buffet.”

Lisa:  “That sounds….interesting.

Matt:  “Yeah.  I wanted to go there for lunch today but I know the buffet isn’t on your diet.”

TV Critic

Lisa:  “You don’t like Cosmos?”

Matt:  “No.  It’s too much animation.  Just tell me the things.”

jumping off diving board**This post is syndicated with The Levison Group and originally appeared in various publications across the U.S.**

It’s summertime and the living’s easy. Well, maybe the living isn’t easy but it’s definitely summertime.

Summer is my favorite time of year and lounging at the pool is one of my favorite pastimes, and not just because there’s a great concession stand. However, I can never escape my legal tendencies, even at the pool, and every year when I go I think about the legalities behind it.

People undoubtedly injure themselves every year at their local swimming hole. From belly flops to slip and falls, the pool most certainly has its fair share of lawsuits.

So why is it that none of us sign a waiver when we’re admitted? Obviously the pool hasn’t hired me as their lawyer because if it did it would require everyone to sign a waiver before accessing the pool.

I’ve thought about what it should include, and here is my proposed waiver.

  • I agree not to run at the pool. I’m not sure why I would run around the pool as it’s all the same body of water and one part isn’t any more exciting than the other.
  • I will throw away my trash from the snack bar so ant farms don’t set up camp around the only available table. I will also agree to give the rest of my pretzel with cheese to the woman who has been eying it since I sat down.
  • I will not stand on the diving board while yelling to my friends about what kind of jump to do. I will collaborate with my friends and come to a decision about the jump before approaching the board.
  • I will not bring water guns to the pool and shoot them at unsuspecting people who didn’t want to get blasted in the face with chlorine water. I’m not sure why I would bring a gun that shoots water to be used while simultaneously standing in water.

kids at pool

  • I will not shove my body into a suit from last season and parade around the pool. I will accept that I have gained a few pounds and buy the next size up.
  • I will not spray sunscreen. I will use the stuff from the bottle because the spray sunscreen is ridiculous. I’m not that lazy.
  • I will not yell at my friends across the pool about stupid stuff.
  • I will read up-to-date magazines so I can share them with other pool goers when I’m done. Everyone deserves to be caught up on the latest celebrity gossip.
  • I will not throw a tantrum like it’s the end of the world when my parents make me leave the pool. I will come back the next day. And the next.
  • I will wear shoes in the restroom, because it’s gross not to
  •  I will ignore the fact that the lifeguards are all 16 years old and weigh 100 pounds and couldn’t even save my left foot if I was drowning.

small__418273862

  • If I fall asleep at the pool I won’t snore. If I do, I understand if other pool goers move my chair away from them.
  • I will not block the exit ladder in the deep end of the pool. If I’m under 10 years old I shouldn’t be in the deep end anyway.
  • I will not talk loudly on my cell phone while laying out. I realize, however, it’s acceptable to do so only if I discuss juicy gossip on the phone and then let other pool goers in on the details.
  • I will not ask my friends whether that was a good cannon ball. It’s a cannon ball. There’s no skill.

small__14079385883

Maybe this waiver wouldn’t deter these behaviors from happening at the pool, but it would at least give a basis to kick people out for their idiotic behavior. Then again, if people were kicked out for violating these rules, there would be no one but me left at the pool. Come to think of it, that wouldn’t be so bad.

Hey local pool, call me.

The real pool rules

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.”

 

photo (75)My husband I just went to Las Vegas for a “vacation.”  I use the term loosely because my idea of vacation is chilling by the pool, reading a book and silently judging the women who think they look good in a thong bikini.  (They don’t.)

Vegas is the opposite of that, with the exception of women in thong bikinis.  There’s lots of those.  There’s also lots of men in thong bikinis too.

Vegas doesn’t discriminate.

I’d never been to Vegas so I didn’t know what to expect.  When I arrived I was overwhelmed and wish someone would have prepared me for the shit show I was stepping into.

Because I’m good to you like that, I’ve made a list of a few things you should know if you are going to Vegas.  I’d like to prevent others from experiencing the horror that was my first time there.

Here it goes…

1.  There’s shopping.  Lots and lots of shopping

photo credit: Marshall Astor - Food Fetishist via photopin cc<

My favorite indulgence!
photo credit: Marshall Astor – Food Fetishist via photopin cc<

I’m a fan of capitalism and free market, but Vegas is ridiculous when it comes to shopping.  Not only are there shops and stores everywhere you go, there are people on the street corners hawking everything from water bottles to free cds of their music.

Right, like the guy in the street with the stinky pits and the nasty teeth is going to be the next big music star.

Wait. Is that how Kid Rock was discovered?

Vegas doesn’t just slap you in the face with commerce, it punches you in the nose and then the stomach, and while you’re keeled over in pain, it gives you an atomic wedgie….and then it charges you for the experience.

Make sure you bring cash; not only for the shopping, but also for the alcohol you will need to numb the pain of the sucker punch to the wallet.

2.  Penny slots aren’t actually penny slots

My winnings!

My winnings!

Don’t be fooled!  Remember #1 above where I talked about how commerce bitch slaps you?  (I hope so, as it was only a few lines ago.  If you’ve forgotten, you should probably see a doctor about that.)

Although the penny slots say they’re a penny, they’re big fat liars with their pants on fire.  While it’s true they take pennies, it takes 40 of them for one spin of the slot, or in this high tech world, a push of a button.

There is no other option other than to bet $0.40 a spin.  Maybe if you’re a high roller you can afford such ridiculousness.  I, however, cannot, partly because of item #3.

3.  Everything costs a million dollars

These nachos, a margarita and a mojito at the pool cost $70.00...BEFORE TIP!

These nachos, a margarita and a mojito at the pool cost $70.00…BEFORE TIP!

Want a small Diet Coke fountain soda?  That will be $5.00 plus tip.

What about a small bottle of water?  That will also be $5.00 plus tip.

Neither comes with a happy ending.  Believe me, I asked.  For that price, I’d expect at least a butt grab, but the waiter was NOT on board with my advances.

Before you come out to Vegas, might I recommend taking out a second mortgage on your house just to pay for dinner and drinks?  And don’t eat too much, as that will force you to go to the restroom.

Although Vegas charges you for every single indulgence, they can’t seem to put anything other than 2-ply toilet paper in the restrooms.

You probably have to pay extra for additional ply.

4.  Bling is everywhere

bling at pool

This is an actual photo of someone at one of the pools in Vegas. BLING!

Make sure you pack your sunglasses because it gets extra bright when the sun reflects off the sequined bikinis at the pool.

I’m not sure if it’s a requirement in Vegas that all women be adorned with glitter, sequins or rhinestones, but I suspect it is.  From teenagers to grandmas, nearly every woman sparkles with the finest rhinestones Hobby Lobby has to offer.

Here’s a tip:  Pack a glue gun with extra glue sticks.

You can make a killing offering to glue fallen sequins back on outfits.  You should probably offer to glue the legs shut of some of these sparkling women, although I wouldn’t recommend going anywhere near their jackpot.

You will NOT come out a winner, I can assure you.

5.  There aren’t free drinks on the casino floor

http://www.flickr.com/photos/pablito_garza/8360706964/

http://www.flickr.com/photos/pablito_garza/8360706964/

Contrary to popular belief, you aren’t served free alcohol while you’re gambling.  They make you pay for that too.  (See #3 above.)

Come to think of it, perhaps they give out free drinks, but only to people betting more than $0.40 a spin on the Airplane! slot machine. (The slot machine is just as much fun as the movie, although it doesn’t say “Surely you can’t be serious,” when you bet the minimum. Wouldn’t it be cool if it did?)

That’s all the tips I have for Vegas virgins.  The irony of that sentence is that no one in Vegas is a virgin.  No one.

If you’d like one final overriding tip, might I suggest you go somewhere else for your trip and avoid Vegas all together?

Yes, I might.

Things you should kow before going to Vegas

113It’s summer time, which means it’s time to hit the pool instead of hitting the gym.

Yeah right, like I hit the gym the rest of the year.

If did, I probably would enjoy the pool a bit more.  Hence, my theory for how to survive the swimsuit season.  Read about it here.  It’s an awesome idea.  (Duh).

So now that you’re equipped to go to the pool and not feel bad about how you look in a swimming suit (because you read my post), you need a few more staples.

Not stomach staples.  You look great the way you are.  Didn’t you read my swimsuit theory?

Read about the five things you need to take to the pool here.  Yes, I’m making you go to another site.  Deal with it.

You know you’d click just about anywhere to learn about what to take to the pool.  So one more click!

arrows

http://www.inthepowderroom.com/read/me-time/2013-06-a-summer-survival-kit-for-the-pool.html

arrows up

(RECIPE AT THE BOTTOM OF OF THIS POST)

Back CameraThis Memorial Day, my friend St. Frick (not his real name), invited us to his house for a pool party.  St. Frick is known for his ability to throw amazing parties (and his ability to shove five profane words into a sentence comprised of only three words.  It’s a talent).

We knew we would be in for a good time and we knew the only logical answer was to tell him we would be there.

We arrived at his place and discovered he and some other friends were already in the pool.  Judging by the various beer cans strewn about, they also appeared to have started the party without us (although I still contend a party doesn’t start until I arrive).

I immediately headed to the pool house to grab some libations and catch up with our friends.  I opened the refrigerator and this is what I saw:

At first I thought they were sliced lemons, which would go nicely with my Grey Goose, but upon closer inspection I realized they weren’t lemons, but Jello shots in a lemon rind.

Is that what it’s called?  A rind?

I was beside myself with joy.

Back CameraI decided to try one of them immediately.  After all, I didn’t want to be rude.  I was his guest and I was raiding his fridge to see what free stuff I could find.

What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t do a Jello shot (or three)?

They were delicious.  I decided to have a few more and bring them poolside for others to enjoy.  They were refreshing and alcohol laden, which are two of my favorite things.

I grabbed a couple more and sat on the edge of the pool.  It was like I was being healthy and eating fruit by the pool…if fruit was made of three parts gelatin and two parts vodka.  (If it was, I would eat a lot more fruit).

What kind of person comes up with this idea?  Obviously an awesome person.  I just didn’t know who would be brilliant enough to come up with this recipe.

Normally, if I’m motivated enough to make Jello, it’s done in a dirty bowl with cracks at the bottom courtesy of the time one of my dogs used it as a chew toy.

Don’t judge.  The bowl still works…just think twice about eating Jello when you come to my house…and watch for dog hair.

Back CameraDo you see these amazing Jello shots?  Look how perfectly sliced they are!

Upon closer inspection, I was amazed to discover there were no slices of skin on them, nor were there bloody lemon peels (or rinds.  Are we calling them rinds?).

Maybe it’s just me, but I’m pretty sure I would slice a finger straight off if I was going to slice up these lemon Jello shots.

Naturally, it would be my husband’s finger I sliced, and not mine.  After all, he would be the one holding the lemons while I sliced them.

After several Jello shots, a girl can’t be expected to hold the lemons steady.

Oh yeah, I may have forgotten to mention that when I make Jello shots I’m usually wasted on several of the shots by the time we get to the slicing portion of the recipe.

But everyone is like that, right?

recycleAs if these delicious gems of goodness weren’t already perfect, I realized there was another plus to them.  They are environmentally friendly!

You know my love of animals and of this beautiful planet (which is made even more beautiful by the presence of Jake Gyllenhaal and Andrew Garfield).

So with this recipe I can load up on liquor without feeling guilty about the environment.

I don’t need to be worried about filling the landfill with little Jello shots cups (mostly because when I eat these I will be too blitzed to think straight).

Actually,I’m probably helping the environment by doing Jello shots this way.  I am using biodegradable material for good use, while also supporting recycling.

I’m so considerate.

This is yet another way to give back to Mother Earth while drinking to excess.  Who knew being an environmentalist would be so fun?

The best lemon jello shotsDoes this mean I can stop shaving my arm pits?

Another bonus to these shots is that neighbors going through my trash (or just looking out their window to see me sprawled out on the lawn), won’t judge me for the large amount of plastic containers strewn about me and my body.

Rather, they will assume my drinking caught up with me and my liver finally gave out.  This makes for a peaceful afternoon nap on the front lawn…the perfect way to spend a Saturday.

What’s that you say?  Your neighbors don’t go through your trash?  Sure.

Whatever.  Keep telling yourself that, but do yourself a favor and go outside some night and see if your Us Weekly magazines are still in your trash can.

My guess is they’re not, as the nosy neighbor down the street wants to keep up with the Kardashians but can’t afford a magazine subscription (or cable…or the internet….those fricking Kardashians are everywhere).

So since I’m totally awesome and you guys are just dying to know how these Jello shots are made, I will tell you.  It’s actually fairly easy.  Here it goes:

RECIPE

1.  Cut several lemons in half. (You can also uses oranges, limes or watermelons)
2.  Scoop out the insides of each half lemon so it’s hollow.  (I suggest dumping the insides of the lemon into a large container of Grey Goose and water.)
3.  Make Jello as per the instructions.  (If you are making this for a party that I will be attending, please multiply the alcohol content by two.  Who am I kidding?  Multiply it by three.)
4.  Pour the liquid Jello into the halves, making sure not to overfill them.
5.  Place the lemon halves in muffin pans to hold them upright.
6.  Place the lemon halves in the refrigerator and allow the Jello to set.
7.  Once the Jello is done,  remove the lemon halves and slice the halves into smaller pieces.

Yes, it’s that easy.  I know.  Can you believe it?

And if you make this recipe, I will require you to bring over the equivalent of three whole lemons of Jello shots.

You didn’t think you were going to get this recipe entirely for free, did you?

311

It’s the holiday weekend, which marks the beginning of summer, or as I like to call it, the beginning of BBQ season.

Summertime is the perfect excuse to always have french onion dip in your fridge, and at least 3 bags of Ruffles potato chips in the cupboard.

Okay, since it’s not 1932 and you don’t have a cupboard, you can keep them in your pantry.

But with all the fun of the summer months also comes the dreadful swim suit debacle.

Questions like “why didn’t I start a diet in January?” or “why do I eat so many carbs?” or “how is 2 Broke Girls still on the air?” regularly float through my head this time of year.

Seriously, who watches that show?

A better way to view theWith the dreaded bathing suit season comes the thought of dieting, hunger, and the inevitable bad mood that follows when you cut off access to this girl’s carbs.

However, this year I have a different point of view to the bathing suit season.

Instead of starving myself and forcing those around me to become alcohol dependent, as that is the only way to deal with me when I’m trying to eat less than 3,000 calories a day, I’ve come up with a new approach.

Isn't this a better site to see on the beach than flabby thighs?

Isn’t this a better site to see on the beach than flabby thighs? (I’m sure she’s reading Immanuel Kant….or maybe it’s just a book with pretty pictures. Where’s Waldo may be over her head.)

I’m not going to focus on how I look in a bathing suit. I’m going to focus on those around me and how they look in said bathing suit.  (Not mine.  They can wear their own suits.)

I realize this doesn’t immediately make sense, but neither does Justin Beiber getting another album.  Bear with me.

I’ve decided that during the summer months when I’m lounging by the pool, I’m only going to surround myself with skinny people with awesome bodies.

Yes, you read that right.

I am willingly going to be the fattest person in my entourage instead of realizing halfway through the day that I’m the lovable fat friend and the only one in the group wearing Spanx and still looking overweight.

Instead, I’m going to embrace it and make a conscious effort to be around only skinny people.

The reason?  No, I’m not a masochist, although for some reason I continue to buy the Greek veggie dip telling myself every time “this time it’s gonna be good.”

Aside from that form of self torture, I’m not really into that.

But I figure if I surround myself with skinny people who look good at the pool, my view for the day will be delightful.

These chicks seem pumped about the idea.

These chicks seem pumped about the idea.

As far as the eye can see I will view attractive, bronzed bodies with minimal cellulite and the ability to walk without their legs rubbing together.

It will be perfection!

After all, I’m not the one who has to stare at flabby arms and a gut filled with Chipotle…that’s my friends who have to do that!  Suckas!!!!

I think this idea is fool proof and it will be effective immediately.

I realize this seems like discrimination, but I like to think of it as a beautification requirement where I am surrounded by “happy little bodies,” which are much like the “happy little trees” Bob Ross used to paint, although hopefully these bodies will have less bush.

Yes, I really just made that joke.  Low brow?  Yes.  Hilarious?  Also yes.

So if I ask you to go to the pool with me this summer, you should take it as a compliment.

Aside from the fact you will have the honor of chilling with me poolside and partaking in my awesome snacks, of which you can only have one, you should also be happy to know that I consider you a hard body who will make me feel better about myself.

And isn’t that really what friendships are all about?