Spama-Lama-Ding-Dong

Just a forewarning: This post has nothing to do with Spama-Lama’s or Ding-Dong’s.  Well,  maybe Ding-Dong’s… the hostess snack cake, not the penis.

While Lucky was locking lips with an ex-coworker all weekend, I was enjoying some quality family time on the home front.  Does everyone remember my Teen Pregnancy cousin(TPC) and her pregnant Mother? Well TPC graduated high school this weekend.  It was up in the air until about two days before when she announced a D minus was indeed a good enough grade to get a high school diploma.  Of course the talk of the family after was how big her stomach has gotten.  Typically at family events she wears baggy clothes to hide her pregger belly, but not this time.  She had on a skin tight teeny weeny dress.  The whole fam was freaking out asking her to turn sideways so they could capture the moment at the best angle.  I felt sorry for her, while I don’t agree with her decision to put the baby up for adoption at an attempt to erase her ex-boyfriend and entire pregnancy from her memory, I can understand how it would be hard to have to look back at what will probably be the happiest day of her life and only remember that she was pregnant with a baby she didn’t want.

So I made a stupid move and run up next to her, turned sideways and pushed out my stomach out to about a 6 month food baby pregger size and was all “Here take pictures of my baby before it drops!!” (It’s something disgusting that I’m really talented at, also a reason I will appreciate being preggers later on in life – I can let it allllll hang out.) Anyway, the whole fam flipped their shit andstarted accusing me of being pregnant and they were all, “Why I would never have thought…Gizzy, a baby out of wedlock??? WHO? WHAT? WHEN?” *GASP*WHISPER*.  In front of my 80 year old grandmother I had to belt out, “YOU HAVE TO HAVE SEX TO GET PREGNANT GUYS!!!! 14 months celibate does not a baby make! It’s calllllllledddd a food baby.  EVERYONE! Get. A. Life!!!!!” Eff.

I mean really? Lets not get ahead of ourselves.  I am the star grandchild.  I’m the smart, nerdy, athletic one that graduated high school with honors, went to college, has a good job, didn’t get pregnant as a teenager, has never been arrested or divorced, and doesn’t do drugs.  Stop selling me fucking short.  I’m also the funny one.  Like, yeah… I’ve just been hiding my unborn fetus under my extra small spanks, it’s no big deal guys. Oh and that beer I had at lunch? I WANT my baby to have a space between it’s eyes you could land a plane on…so family, put that in your pipe and smoke it!

Anyway, on to some blog news, Lucky and I have this idea we’d like to run past everyone.  Whether you guys like it or not we’re still doing it because Patti Stanger says so.  Our idea is to go get a drink alone after work one day looking all sexretaryish in a nice bar where there are a few young business professionals having an after work cocktail.  We will order something sexy (See: Martini, Red Wine, Ice cubes, etc…) and make corner eyes at any hot men we see.  Then they’ll come over, ask us out and fall in love.  Wah-laaa!! So we’re entering into Phase 1 right now: To Find The Perfect Bar. 

We both have to do a little research on the bar to find the one with all of the following qualities:

1. Not too crowded

2. Not too empty

3. Not too grungy

That’s about it.  Like my How to Meet a Doctor Plan, this one will work too.  Lucky has a little anxiety about it, so lets make her feel better everyone.  Words of encouragement please?

I really have nothing going on in my life, so in addition to a hot man I’d also like to ask this question:

MTV! Won’t you pimp my ride?

P.s. My bald jewish neighbor just came home drunk, drove his Porshe into his garage door, and then tried sticking key in our door.  

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One thought on “Spama-Lama-Ding-Dong

  1. I wish your neighbor was my neighbor…. That’s hilarious!

    As for the bar thing…try it once and see what happens.

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