Tag Archives: captain’s crystal

Leave my booberry’s alone!!!!

Last night my roommate (mom) made an interesting observation and it got my wheels turning, which doesn’t happen very often.  She walked in my room to ask about my latest bout with the police and some speeding tickets I had acquired and failed to mention, but mid conversation she interrupted herself asking very loudly, “ARE YOU EATING BOOBERRY’S AND WATCHING AMERICA’S FUNNIEST HOME VIDEOS?!!!! NO WONDER YOU DON’T HAVE A JOB!” I said, “Mom’s I’m right here you don’t have to yell.”  She went on about how when she was 25 she had a 2 year old baby, a mortgage, TWO car payments, and a husband to look after.  I simply explained that it was her choice and that I’m sure had she explored her options grandma would have let her live at home into her late 20’s and fed her whatever cereal she fancied.  Then she asked if I would be sitting at my dining room table in the mornings eating booberry’s with my kids and watching cartoons.  I told her that I imagined I would.  I mean I’m sorry, no offense to you people that eat your wheaties and your raisin bran, but what the fuck.  When I eat those cereals I may as well be licking cardboard and if I am going to splurge with the cals on something in my day by god it is going to be booberry’s to start my day out right.  As I’m finishing up the last few bites of booberry’s and sipping my milk my roommate gets annoyed and grabs my bowl o booberrys out of my hands and takes it to the kitchen. So there I was left with booberry milk drizzle down my chin to tide me over until morning. Now, on to America’s funniest home videos.  It’s my favorite show, Lucky hates it, but I think whoever thought of it was genius and it is basically my life goal to be the person in charge of what goes on the show.  Imagine this, I’m at my high school reunion sitting at the V.I.P. table eating my booberry’s when my high school crush walks up and asks if he can have some booberry’s I say, “I guess” and snap my fingers at my personal assistant to get him a bowl of booberry’s and he asks what I do and I tell him, “I get paid to watch home videos.”  Imagine the things I would see, forget the news.  AFV is where you learn things.

This all made me think about how much I have really grown up.  Which is not much.  I still love spaghettios, lunchables, and fruit snacks.  But now I think asparagus tastes alright but I will never think sausage is cool.  It looks like a dehydrated turd.  Think about that the next time you order a meatlovers pizza, dehydrated turds baked right in! And they’re chewy. How can you sausage lovers live with yourselves?

As you can tell I am searching for everything and anything to blog about because my life is spiraling down the toilet.  So, I have decided to share my life goals, which is mostly a list of occupations I would like to have, in no particular order:

1. Host The Price Is Right, Let’s Make A Deal, AND The Family Fued (MULTI-TASKER)

2. Be in charge of picking out background music for Gossip Girl

3. Be Donald Trump

4. Win Miss America

I actually enrolled myself in my alma mater’s Miss America foundation pageant, the winner got to go to the state pageant and the winner of that went on to Miss America.  I show up to the call out and the first thing they do is say, “At SHIT U this is not a beauty pageant, we judge solely on your interview and speech.”  Take note, if it was a beauty pageant I would have won.  Not because I’m so jaw dropping beautiful or anything but my school was 70% male and 30% female and 20% of the females were from foreign countries where they don’t believe in bathing or into agriculture so they all smelled and had personal hygiene problems, we’re talking about cow dung under the nails hygiene problems.  IF it was a beauty contest I would’ve been a shoe in but IF it was a beauty contest my competition would have been different.  Apparently the other hygienic girls of SHIT U had already gotten this memo so I got up and walked out.  I mean seriously they were going to judge me based on what kind of speech I could put together about cow’s with colon cancer rather than how good my boobs look in a bikini, which is what they would be judged on in the next round? NEXT.  I should’ve transfered schools right then and there because now I am too old and I feel like I really missed my calling.  A girl that had quarter of an inch long hair, black nail polish, and was wearing the earrings that stretch the holes in your ears out is the one who won.  I made all my friends go with me to the pageant for my 21st birthday and I sat in the back row and sobbed because not only did she take MY crown that  I would have paraded around campus in so gloriously she didn’t even show up to the state pageant and forfeit any chance at Miss America.  I also went out to the bars for the first time the night of the pageant wearing a tiara my friends had bought me for my birthday signing autographs and telling people I won Miss SHIT U earlier that day.  Yep.

5.  Win an Olympic medal for gymnastics (Also now too old and rickety for this)

6. Be a homemaker

7. Be a world renowned surgeon and marry a hot doctor (EXACTLY like on Grey’s Anatomy)

8.  Find someone to marry who looks exactly like Josh Duhamel 😦

9. Marry a celebrity

10. Teach every cheating lying asshole in the world A LESSON.  mwhahaa

11. Be president.

12. Stop eating old candy out of my purse.

As you can see, I am in serious need of a life coach to pull me out of my childhood la la land (because my goals haven’t changed much since I was 10) and send me back to reality.  I honest to god think I am accomplish these goals what with having no background in any of them.  I can do it!

Well, tonight I will be traveling back to SHIT U to get my drinky on.  Drama to look forward to: The Captain, The Captain’s Crystal, HOTTIE MCHOTTERSON & CO, Merdie, and possibly douchearoo will all be in attendance.  Something eventful to spice up my life and yours will surely be happening in t-minus 9 hours. Tick tock!

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BUH-BYE Captain!

Guys I think I’m depressed.  I know I’m in a rut, but I think it’s getting worse.  Here’s how my day goes, I wake up around 10 (noon) and realize that I have a few hours before my roommates (mom & sister) get home.  So it’s like panic sets in and I think what do I need/want to do before they get home in 2 hours? Usually it’s laying in my bed doing nothing which is what I do all night too, but its like from the second I wake up the countdown starts of when they’ll be home.  I know this is all because I want to move out RULL bad so that I can come home from work and lounge around and do whatever the eff I want like I did in college.  And I don’t feel comfortable doing that at home, I feel like they’re all looking at me like GAWD look at that lazy sloth, has she even left the house in the past week? The answer is no, I have not.  Actually yes I did, to get taco bell and then it was BACK TO BED! Everybody is like oh you need to be productive BLAH BLAH BLAH.  Productive doing what? I don’t have errands to run.  Looking for jobs? I do that all goddamned day from my bed throne.  I can’t go interview until the people call me, and while they’re not calling me I’m sitting here eating laffy taffys and watching Kardashian and Jersey Shore repeats until I can recite every ooh and ahh in every episode.  Why don’t I get a gym membership and shut my lazy sloth mouth? Because gym memberships cost money and I don’t like to spend money.  Why don’t I get a part time job? I have one, it’s called slanging Captain Morgan!!  But Gizzy, that’s not a real part time job.  YES IT IS! I make $200 a week slanging Captain, which is more then I would make working at some joe schmo retail store.  Then I need to shut up and enjoy my last days of doing nothing before I get a real job and want to kill myself? Oook, I’ll try.

I finally told the Captain to fuck off and die.  Not really, but it’s coming! Yeah ok he was a hot piece of ass but he is an asshole and I’m about 90% sure he’s gay.  Two days ago he was telling me how awesome he thinks I am and how he wants to “get to know me” and not just have sex with me right? And I didn’t buy it and I also didn’t believe that him and Captain’s Crystal had really broken up.  Yesterday morning after Captain’s Crystal’s night o birthday fun I look at her facebook page and see this status:

Had a FANTASTIC BIRTHDAY!! The Captain sure knows how to spoil me! 🙂 Hot Tubs, Massages, Diamonds … what is this world coming to?!?! HAHA – off for Birthday Sushi with Dad! ♥♥

I knew that this was probably the case.  But I think I’m more surprised at the “Hot Tubs, Massages, and DIAMONDS” part, those are not signs of someone who is or has dumped their girlfriend.  AND WTF, DIAMONDS!? No man has ever gotten me diamonds, other than my father, or jewelry for that matter.  I must be horrible in bed.  Tell me, HOW DO I GET DIAMONDS!?!! So in honor of Lucky and single girls everywhere, I’m going to fuck with him 1 last time this weekend when we work together to really reel him in and show that douche WHAT THE FUCK IS UP then, I’m giving him THE FADE! BOOYAH BITCHES!

I really don’t think this jerk-off knows who he is messing with.  I single handedly turned all of Snoop-Linus’ friends against him and recruited them for Team Gizzy when he took Whore #3 on a date.  I have the power of persuasion.

So, I could tell Captain’s Crystal what he’s been up to, but I’m thinking why end the show early? You don’t go to an all you can eat buffet so you can have a salad and leave. If she’s stupid enough to have no clue what her boyfriend is up to when she’s not around he’ll strike again and the next girl probably won’t be as smart as me and get out while the gettin’ is good before it gets too messy, and I can sit back and laugh because I was the one who got away MWHAAHA.  Such a deviant awesomely awesome plan I have here. But what about girl code and she needs to know what he is doing behind her back!!? FUCK girl code, I say.  She wouldn’t leave him anyway.  What I’m thinking about is playing it cool and acting normal until the next time he invites me to do something then I’m going to storm in like a horny beast, rip his clothes off, tie him to the bed, blind fold him, take a picture for the blog and peace the fuck out and leave him there for Captain’s Crystal to find.  Naked and vulnerable.  BAHAH.  For real, I’m sick of guys thinking they can get away with this shit.  So my new official job/title shall be Miss Gisabelle P.I. saving the world one cheating asshole at a time.  Sounds pretty official.

And for old times sake since this will be my 2nd to last post about the Captain (the last one being how I reeled him in, it’s going to be so juicy I can’t wait) I have listed more contributing factors to why he is secretly gay:

-Left me a voicemail saying he was going tanning

-Gets really into cooking, got this text from him after I told him I needed some dinner: it’s all about creation and loving to do it, knowing a lot of tastes. You have to try a lot of nasty stuff in order to make something really good. Kind of like dating.

-He also likes to use analogies.

-He refers to himself as being a mix between new and old fashioned (on getting to know me before he sticks his wien in me)

-He doesn’t take advantage of drunk girls (Why the eff not?)

-He hangs out a little too often alone with his gay best friend and his gay best friend’s boyfriend.  I mean I love me some gays too, but that’s weird right?

So I went from 2 guys, back to no guys this week.  Meeting 100 guys for the 100th post is starting to look better and better.  I hope someone is coming up with a diet and work out plan for us after the 100th post because we are going to have to drink, A LOT, to pull that one off.  We’re also going to need that if we have to eat 100 chocolates.  I did the math to Lucky the other day (I don’t think she was as impressed with my skills as I was) and if we have to eat 100 godiva chocolates we’ll gain about 8 pounds each.  I’d kind of like to try it just so I can see how many chocolates it takes for my body to be on a chocolate overdose before it starts rejecting the chocolates to the point where it literally won’t let me swallow another chocolate.   Maybe we should’ve had an all of the above option on the poll? That would’ve been my vote. I think I’ll do them all anyway, what else do I have to do? It’s just subbing chocolates in for the laffy taffy.  Another day another dollar, no sweat off my back.

I’m also not opposed to giving out The Captain’s phone number for those of you who are into some late night sexting in order to sway your vote toward the option I want for the 100th post.  I mean for realzzzzz, let me know! Maybe you’ll get some pictures like….


So here we say our final goodbyes to the Captain, sianara asshole and a big SU-FI to you!

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Captain Single!

HO-LA! First and foremost can we have a moment of silence for Lucky’s lappy.  R.I.P. lappy.  Secondly, I would like to apologize for my leave of absence, I’ve been doing research for the blog.  Research of the male anatomy.  Badabing!

Last time in my dream world The Captain was large and in charge with a girlfriend.  Everything is the same.  Except sans girlfriend.  I think. I’ll take a moment for you to do your happy dance.

We had our first date Sunday night and since then we have gotten into approximately 434242340593 arguments.  But they are hot.  We went to a steakhouse, I ordered steak he ordered chicken.  We can all see who wears the pants in this relationship. That’s me, Gizzy the pants wearer.  And we went to see social network followed by a hot make out sesh and some heavy petting.  We went on our 2nd date Monday night for frozen yogurt and another movie.  All is right with the world and now we can get married and have lots of babies with little baby abs right? No.

Yesterday he called me slightly less than a gazillion times because he has a nasty butt dialing habit, so every day I get about 4 voicemails where I can listen to him at the bank, or singing along to Miley in his car, or even him hanging out with a girl. Which is what happened yesterday.  I couldn’t decipher the whole conversation since the message was a little muffled but from what I rounded up it sounded like him and Mystery Woman were having a conversation involving the words, “You need to try harder,” coming from her.  Then I get a text from Captain’s Ex Crystal asking if I can cover her shift on Sunday.  I say sure and ask if The Captain has the materials and she says, let me ask him, and .2 seconds later responds with yep he says he does.   Riddle me this, Mystery Woman + Captain + Convo about something where The Captain needs to “try harder” + Captain’s Crystal getting a response out of The Captain asking if he has my materials BEFORE The Captain responds to my text asking why his butt wants to talk to me so bad = The Captain did not really break up with Captain’s Crystal and they were hanging out.  This is just a hunch.  So I think I have fallen for some trickery.  And I’m ok with it, because you know what I got a steak, a bottle of wine, some custard, and 2 movies out of it.   So all is fair in love and war as long as I’m getting free stuff.

Last night I go to where The Captain and The Captain’s Crystal go to school to see my friend who is in visiting her parents and swing by The Captain’s to get my Captain garb for the weekend.  You all know how this story goes, he looked good, things happened, clothes got ripped, condoms were snapping and babies were made.  That’s how it went in my head.  But what really happened was he got uber pissed off because I told him I couldn’t hang out with him anymore, sober.  Yeah, why I couldn’t just leave it as I can’t hang out with you anymore?  I had to throw in sober. When I’m drunk, of course I’ll come running back for some hot hot lovin’.  So instead of telling me how he really feels he takes it out on the box he’s shoving into my trunk.

About an hour later he calls and I get this voicemail, “Look I’m angry about this because I didn’t just want to have sex with you I wanted to build something with you…” he rambled on and on about how I’m the most awesome person he’s ever met, but you don’t want to hear about that.  The first line is what is pertinent to the rest of the story.   I think this is the first time any guy has ever actually pulled that line on me.  So, he’s 22 (yes, I’m still 25) and he doesn’t just want sex? He must be gay.  It’s all a cover up, this whoooole thing is just so I will go and tell all of our Captain pals about how vagina crazy he is.  Anyway, at the end of the voicemail he yammers on about how he is going to take everything slow because he wants to “get to know me” I think what he really wants is to get to know my boobs.  But, I’ll keep thinking of him as a playa playa and see what else I can conjure up about Mystery Woman and if he really broke up with Captain’s Crystal.  I hope you all know I do this for the blog, and essentially for you.  I don’t love drama so much that I go out looking for it. BAHAHA I almost had myself convinced on that one.  That’s a lie, I love drama.  Bring. It. On.

In other news I got rejected by Gargles Swab.  That means they think I’m a loser in layman’s terms and didn’t give me the job.   I see now why they had to have all that security because I want nothing more than to bust in there right now and demand that they give me $75.  $50 for gas and $25 for emotional suffering.  I think it would hold up in court.  And I bet they would give it to me. Especially when they found me hand cuffed to Josh Duhamel’s desk demanding a good pillaging or money.  I’m not really this big of a whore.  I just like to joke about it.  That’s not true either, I am.  Actually I’m not.  I’m just going to stop.

I missed teen mom last night. So naturally I’m so pissed off today that I want to punch someone’s lights out.  Here’s the thing with having children.  My mom wasn’t a teen mom, she was actually 42 when she had my sister but she did something wrong.  Yesterday my sister pulls me into her room to show me the 5 Justin Bieber posters she hung on her wall

Then my roommate (mom) comes in and tells me that she pretends Justin Bieber is her brother and Selena Gomez is her sister.  I mean, so what the fuck am I? The red headed step child? Guess so! Because then my roommate (mom) tells me that when my sister wakes up in the middle of the night she asks what Justin Bieber is doing and my roommate (mom) says, “Oh he’s in his room playing his guitar.”  And when they went to Khols the other day she was asking if “bubby” could stay in the car.  Personally, I think my mom needs to start checking her backpack for drugs.  Because the kid is on some psychedelics.  And here’s the other thing, if whatever she is on makes her see Justin Bieber, Lucky and I want some.

I’m going to bid you ado with this, my future family portrait.

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Paging the Captain to the Cockpit. Captaaainnn to theeee Cockpit. GARMIN!? What are you doing here?

I am going to seriously attempt to write this blog as fast as humanly possible and still try to make it semi-funny, I need to pass out like whoa. I’m also having a serious debate with myself right now deciding if I should write the Captain story or if you guys would enjoy a timeline of what me and my Garmin do everyday.  Maybe I’ll do both, I’m feeling kind of frisky, after all I did make out last night (Ooooh foreshadowing.  You see what I did there?)

Well twas a weekend full of glorious Captain Morgan promotions and as always, when you got a little Captain in ya, drama follows because it’s someone else’s Captain, yada yada yada.

Friday night the Captain was all over me/semi awkward like, “Oh hi how are you Gizzy, long time no talk.  What’s new? Well have a great night!” *Pat on the back* in front of his GF Captain’s Crystal as per usual which made me uncomfortable since our texts went from flirty to sexting last week and it’s like what do I say? Hey thanks for the pic of your bod last week? Sorry my camera doesn’t work and I couldn’t reciprocate but meet me in the bathroom later and I’ll show you my left boob? This is such a disaster.

Between events we were sitting at another girls house watching tv, The Captain left to go home and be attractive and the topic of The Captain and Captain’s Crystal getting married and having drunk pirate babies got brought up.   Captain’s Crystal is all like, Ohhh I don’t want to jinx it but yeah we’re getting married, we’re sooooo in love. All while my phone is dinging like crazy with texts from, you guessed it, The Captain, asking me to come over and be attractive with him and hang when we are done with our promotions.  I didn’t and we texted until 6am Saturday morning, mostly about cuddling and saying no you go to sleep first, no yooou go to sleep first, no you, no you, pretty standard operation and also pretty 14 year oldish.

Saturday rolls around and it’s me, The Captain, and the Captain’s Crystal working the first event, then just CC and I after that. The Captain sufficiently groped me in front of not only his girlfriend but also a handful of small children.  Somehow we both thought it was acceptable because he was in a polar bear costume and no one could see his face.  So, Polar Bear Costume + Copping a Feel In Front of Elders and Babies = OK!  BY THE WAY, this whole thing is starting to make me feel pretty disgusting because when I was just typing that I was thinking of mascot porn and ewww.

Once The Captain went home Crystal and I sat down for a beer to shoot the shit at a bar where bands play until our next event started.  Where she starts telling me how she just bought tickets from the bartender for a band that The Captain loves, (Techno. do dododo dodododoooo.) in order to “SURPRISE THE BF!”  I started to feel bad about having sextual relations with The Captain.  She is off doing sweet things for him (while yes the rest of the time she is screaming in his face but I am never The Other Woman so obvi I have a conscience but really it’s that I am scared of getting my face beat in by her cave man fist) and here he is texting me non-stop trying to turn the sexting into sexing, sans T.  If he cooks my Mac-A-Weenie and cheese for me, I swear I’ll propose.

So Sunday morning miraculously arrives and I am on the phone with Lucky talking about what we think foam finger is up to (fabulous story coming later this week via Lucky) and I tell her that I think I am going to stop talking to The Captain because I am starting to feel bad about it.  Not 4 hours later I am running around a dark storage warehouse playing hide and seek with him and making out on top of boxes.  I’m a whore.  But for reals, no more.  I tasted the cake, I did not eat the cake nor do I think I can have the cake so this will be a win-lose-lose situation.  I am obviously the winner, coming away with the gold medal in cake tasting.  But yeah, the box make out sesh – pretty hot I won’t lie, I’m not sorry for it. Nope.

What I am sorry for is that I am so ungodly tired from taking my long division test at Gargles Swab this morning that I’m probably going to pass out in my lunch.  I think Garmin is tired too, she started yammering on in French earlier today just out of the blue and I’m like oh god Garmin don’t  die I hear your prayers and I promise we will go on vacay and then if I get this job then we’ll get you a boyfriend, TomTom and all will be right with the world.  Christ almighty we’ve had a rough couple of days.

I’m not seriously about to continue on with stories about my Garmin (although I could, she does lead an exciting life) considering most of the people that read this blog are business professionals and not potheads who want to investigate deeper into the life of my walking talking GPS system.  God, I am tired.  Goodnight errybody!
PS Just received a text from the Captain reading: BOO!
Ohhh we’re getting married. Tehehhe

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