Tag Archives: The Captain’s Crystal

Promo Girl/Lebron James Politics

So does Camille Grammer have anal leakage or what? Every time I type in my little log on and password and head to our dashboard I see this:

top searches

camille grammer anal leakage

I know it’s not uncommon for our blog to yield as a search result when people google disgusting things such as anal leakage, since I did use that as an example of something that someone might ask our advice on, but what I don’t get is who the eff out there wants to read about Camille Grammer’s anal leakage? I mean #1 how do you even get anal leakage and #2 Why do you want to read about it? Tell me this please.  You, the one googling anal leakage, you have some explaining to do, SHOW YOURSELF!

Speaking of anal leakage, has everyone seen that new facebook feature where you can ‘view a friendship’? I did this with several of my friends and was slightly disturbed by my own sense of humor when that video I posted last week of the fat guy licking his man boobs to “I kissed a girl” came up on 98% of my friendship pages.  Sigh. I think I might need a life coach.  The other 2% of my friends had a picture of a mexican fiesta pop up when I tried to plan a cruise to Cabo Wabo with my college friends and the only one who agreed to go was Anth.  Thumbs DOWN.

So, today’s post is about being a promo girl.  You think you have what it takes?

The first step is to select your category, are you:

1. Preppy/Think your shit don’t stank?

2. Hot, drunk, and stupid

3.  Ugly, old, and fat

4. a hodge podge of races with fluctuating weight

If you chose 1, congratulations you can be like me! You can work for Captain Morgan, Crown Royal, Jose Cuervo, Ursus, and many more!

If you chose 2, today is your first day of Jagarmeister rush! ON THE GROUND!

If you chose 3, you are an imported beer queen.  Heineken, dos equis? At your service gramps!

If you chose 4, I’m sorry.  You are a miller girl.

I probably fit better into category #2 because you know, drunk. But I take what I can get.

In all seriousness I have a question/favor to ask of you, our loyal readers.  Do you guys think I could charge a fee for people to hang out with me? Like as a service? I would name the company, “You’ve got a friend in Gizzy” like nerds who don’t have friends could call me up and pay me like $50 and I would let them get me drunk infront of their co-workers or something/I could wear something “showy” for added impressment (thanks for the idear, Anth.)

I ask because I am bombing interviews left and right and my life has actually come down to the point where I think my stepmom is getting me a job.  Which makes me sad.  Because I wanted to move far away and be all independent woman and come home for the 4th of July and be like, “Hey everyone meet my hot actor boyfriend, his name is Zac Efron.  Yeah the one from high school musical.  What about Vanessa? Oh he dumped her when he met me because god she is like sooooo 2009.”  But it doesn’t look like that’s going to happen anymore, because at one point it did.  When I was meeting celebrities left and right and they thought I was cool.  But now I’m like Matt McFaggot, a has been in the eyes of Hollywood.

It all started when Lebron James denied me a picture, he’s the one who made hanging out with Gizzy not be cool anymore.  Meatloaf, Lynard Skynard, Drew Carey, Shawn Marion, John Mellencamp, and Candace Cameron (yep, I’m name dropping all the celebrities I have met because I am depressed but this is making it worse because nobody really knows who any of these people are anymore) all thought it was cool to hang out with me.  But no here I am paroozing around one day chit chatting with Anderson Varejao having a grand old time when Lebron comes along.

When Lebron walks up.  Like any warm blooded American would do I pull down my shirt a little and bat my eyes at him, we shoot the shit because I’m so. cool. and then ask for a picture because obviously no one would ever believe I was hanging out with Lebron James and Anderson Varejao when I’m not even from Cleveland and Lebron says, “Naw girl, just for the kids.”

After that I pretty much made it my life mission to run into Lebron again when I am famous and deny him a photo.  Like be at some awards show (the oscars, with Zac) and see Lebron pull up behind me and linger around the red carpet for him to be like, “Gizenator my girl! Lets get a pic for the paps.” And I can be like, “Naw Lebron, just for celebrities.”

Really though, I know everyone wants to know how I was hanging out with Lebron and Anderson.  A friend of mine gave me post game passes for the Cavs when they were playing the team from the state I am from.  So, I got drunk at the game and was eyeing Anderson because he seemed nice.  When Lebron walks up, vagina blocks and shatters my ego for not being a kid for the rest of my life.

So there you have it.  It was my one chance to meet a nice, successful guy and Lebron James ruined it. And I am out for revenge.  Ok, mayybbeee his hair is a little crazy but I can deal with it, he was nice and brazilian. And I am pissed all over again.

Anywho, I think I am getting set up with someone tomorrow.  My friend Betty said she has “someone she wants me to meet.”  I don’t know how I feel about this because the last time she tried to set me up with someone it was an epic fail and made me realize that she clearly has no idea what I look for in guys.  I haven’t asked any questions about this guy because honestly I don’t want to know, if I know before hand that I’m not going to like him I’ll probably try and find a way to cancel which will piss her off so best to be surprised right? RIGHT! But this last guy was baaaad, she met him at a club, he was nerdy, weird, and basically the complete opposite of everything I look for.  At one point I actually pulled her aside where she said, “He’s nice right? Why aren’t you saying a word to him?” and I had to be like, “Honestly? Do you hate me? Why would you do this?” At which point I decided to make myself seem unattractive to him so he wouldn’t ask for my number or anything.  We were at Betty’s having some drinks on her deck with her husband at the time, and our couple friends Chad and Rachel.  Chad said he wanted to go to the gas station to buy some cigarettes so I handed him my credit card and asked him to stop and get me Mcdonalds AND taco bell.  I think it worked.

It just makes me nervous, because when Betty is picking out guys for her friends they are really guys for her.  I liked her husband, he was really nice, not so much what I long for physically but you know it’s whatevs.  I guess I could hope she shows up with Kelsey Grammer, even though he’s a little old for me.  I could be Hollywood for a while.  Her current boyfriend is an archaeologist professor and talks with big words.  The 3 of us went canoeing and I remember him saying some big word and I asked what it meant and he said “water” like why wouldn’t you just say water? You’re not hanging out with jeopardy winners or anything.

Well, since Lucky’s dad is in town you guys are stuck with me all weekend.  Tonight I’m working with the Captain and The Captain’s Crystal sooo…. giddy up!

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And a sext message in a pear tree…

Does it make me a tool if I looooooveeee full coverage underwear? I’m not talking like full on grannies.  I’m talking about boy shorts that cover everything.  I just put on a fresh pair and my area is in France and everybody is in bed for the night.

Side note: Just got this text from The Captain, “On a scale of 1 to 10 how good is my body? Be honest.”  I bet you guys can’t waaaaiiiit to hear what happened.  Mwhahaaaaa.

Anyway, back to my underwear.  I had a hankering for some Mcdonald’s last night after I saw the episode of Sex and The City where Carrie throws le filet o fish and le big mac at Mr. Big, so I got up out of my bed and went and got me some.  When I returned home and was walking through my garage I stepped in something wet and slipped and nearly fell to my death when my ass smacked the ground in my full coverage underwear.  It took that for me to realize I had just gone to Mcdonald’s wearing no shoes, no bra, and no pants.   After I heard my ass hit the cement I decided it was time to start working out.  After I ate my Big Mac and fries. MONOPOLY!

I rolled out of bed in the morning and power walked a 5k.  I was pretty proud of myself but I seriously think I was 10 steps away from  a heart attack.  I only weigh 115 pounds but it’s about 110 pounds of flub.  My heart was the little engine that could and it held out but I don’t know what I’m going to do about this.  All I can picture is my little heart in my chest with his fists up trying to punch the Hamburgler in the face to fight off the fat and grease but his reach is too short and the Hamburgler wins. And the Hamburgler WINS!  If I die of a heart attack I want you to make sure my headstone says EXACTLY this, “To the victor go the spoils, the Hamburgler wins again!”

Now that I am simultaneously writing this blog and sexting with The Captain I’ll just go ahead and spill the I’m Sorry I Suck beans.  The Plan was supposed to go into action Sunday afternoon.  I was all set up with rope (duct tape) and a blindfold (t-shirt) to teach The Captain a lesson.  We walked in his apartment after work and find Raymundo, The Captain’s asian french speaking roommate, sitting on a bean bag looking like he had no intentions of going anywhere for a while. While The Captain went and changed out of his polar bear costume:

I had a little chitty chat with Raymundo where he told me his plans for the day were to sit infront of the tv and start watching Dexter from season 1.  He had rented all 5.  Hooray! So I pushed the plan back and told The Captain I had to skeedattle.  I didn’t want to do it with Raymundo there because what’s the fun in that if he gets untied 5 minutes after I leave? I probably should’ve just manned up and done it because it’s all only getting more intense, he’s starting to call regularly and want to see me regularly and I am beginning to run out of excuses and he’s not bad at sexting either, anybody wanna see a little word porn? OK! Here’s what he sent me tonight, keep in mind my responses were nothing like his and topped out at an OMG, OH WOW, or yeah that sounds good.

Captain: Do you like soft kisses up your body then my hand grabbing your hair and just… you know.

Captain: What about a massage then soft kisses on your neck and down your back

Captain: Well do you like feathers? Me not touching you blowing feathers up and down your chest then stomach then massage you wherever you want (the feather thing is totes from 40 days and 40 nights, ah Josh Hartnett)

*OK, So right here is where I felt I needed to contribute to the conversation so I said what about whipped cream? Continue…*

Captain: Whipped cream is too sticky, I’ll just lick you.  I love to lick even though someone doesn’t like it but I’m good at it just a side note

Sccccreeeeeeeeettttttccchhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

That’s the sexting bus wheels coming to a fucking stop.  You love to lick even though SOMEONE doesn’t like it.  He’s going to have to pay another $19.95 if he wants this session to continue.  I don’t think so.  I replied saying goodnight.  Hopefully he gets that next time why not just invite Captain’s Crystal into the conversation so she can add her 2 cents in as well.  Christ.

He also sent me a good morning text today and a little treat for you all:

Basically the EXACT same picture as last time only closer, but totally completely different.  I mean gosh.  But this one is different and borders on pornographic so kids, hide your eyes! BLINDFOLDS!

So I apologize that this was not my last post about The Captain, but it’s coming, hopefully before anything else too crazy happens, Captain’s Crystal just posted on my facebook wall asking me to go out with then tonight.   THIS IS JUST MADNESS!! Just hang on to your little pirate hats and we’ll be on our way…

In other boy news I got a friend request on facebook the other day from none other than, are you ready for it ready for it, drumroll please……….

DOUCHEAROO!!!!

I pondered accepting for a while, because I can still creep on his ugly ass because his profile is open however mine is closed.  Did I really want him looking at my pictures? I look good, so why the hell not.  I accepted.  For the blog. I give the new friend status a week to marinate before I get a text saying, “Hey facebook friend,” mark my words.  1 week.  If I have nothing to blog about that day, maybe I’ll respond to stir the drama pot a little.  1 week.

And I got another rejection letter from a company, I’m starting to get really upset:

Dear Gisabelle,

Thank you for your continued interest in BP and the position of Fart Knocker. We regret to inform you that BP
has decided not to progress with the selection of any candidates for this particular position.

We would like to invite you to apply for other positions that are closely aligned with your qualifications and interests as they arise. To access these opportunities through BP™s website go to
http://www.bp.com/careers. We encourage you to register for job alerts by
creating a Search Agent that will notify you about future opportunities that may be of interest.

Again, thank you for considering BP as a potential employer. We wish you every success with your career.

Sincerely,

BP Global Recruitment

So don’t hate me because I applied to BP.  I NEED A JOB! I figured that no one else is going to apply there because people want to blow them up so why wouldn’t they hire me? Instead they decide to hire NO ONE.  Like, fucking come on!? Give a girl a break.  If anyone out there reading this feels sorry enough for me to give me a job in finance email me cocktailsattiffanys@gmail.com I promise I’m not as big of a sloth as I seem.  I’ll relocate!

And that’s where I hit rock bottom.  Begging readers for a job.

Well it’s almost time for the Teen Mom repeat, I’ve had 5!!!!! redbulls and I am ready for this hour and a half finale.  I cannot wait.  So glad I made it out of my teenage years without getting preggers.  God bless abstinence and crooked teeth. Amen.

P.S. Welcome back Lappy!

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