Books and Shit

So do you all remember how last week I was complaining about not having anything to write about? Well I take it back. I was trying to spend a peaceful night with my son at the bookstore, when to my horror we passed the "Sexuality" department. When I tell you what I saw was scarier then the trailer for Sinister,  I knew I had to blog. The power couple that I spotted had to be Medicare age. The dude had on a fanny pack and I swear I could see his ear hair from where I was staring, very obviously staring I might add. The female may have had her boobs sagging so low, the nipple was at her navel (with a bra on). The quaint little section they were reading was the Kama Sutra, (please hold while I throw up). For some reason when I picture people reading and practicing this ancient art of pleasure, I prefer to think of them as young and definetly with perky breasts. Now don't worry my son is 3 and had no idea what was going on at the time, and if he did, he would probably still be having nightmares.

TTFN

Julia

8 days a week

Well I know I said last post that I would try to write once a month, but I ran out of days . The past few weeks has been a blur, like in high school when I would smoke weed before class. I also have a three year old now. And no I didn't adopt another kid my lovely adorable pain in the ass son had a birthday! I'm sure your reading this thinking about how awesome that is but I must add the details of what happens when you turn three, Potty Training! While Mommy dreamed of this day and fantasizes about not buying diapers ever again, the boy decided to make anyone who thinks Freud was full of shit a believer! My son refuses to poop and as a result I have spent many hours sounding like the clingy, codependent Jewish mother that I am! Things like, if you go poop ill buy you a toy, if you go poop you'll feel better and on and on until I can't stand my own voice ! I never want to talk about poop again, unless it involves him actually going so I can say Mazel Tov and move on to Freud's next stage which I believe is where the Oedipus complex stems and that my friends is where I leave you , because it is too creepy to put in words!

I'm Back Bitches

I know that all of my readers must be wondering where I have been (all two of you). Well let me tell you, I have been busy reinventing myself (i.e. slightly starving, working out and sucking in my stomach) to raise my lowered self-esteem. My pursuits of becoming Boca Famous have been hampered by my single mother duties. I feel like Elisabeth Shue in Adventures in Babysitting, except he's my kid and I don't get paid to watch him, and I don't do any of the other cool things either, well, just the ones in my head. I have missed being able to express my daily moments of clarity in blog form, so I am going to try and dedicate at least five minutes a month to this form of freedom of speech that my ancestors fought so hard for. Well I don't know if this is what they had in mind, but I am running with it.  Okay my real job is calling......

Julia

Calling All Rich Men

If I were to put an ad in the personal section this is what it would look like:

Single White Female is looking for a Gorgeous, Rich, Financially Stable Silver Fox to meet all of my needs. I do not want to have to work, cook, clean or do anything unseemly. I am a fucking lady and should be treated as such. I would prefer to have the life of a debutant (think Scarlett O'Hara from gone with the Wind, or Gretchen from Real Housewives of Orange County). I like long days at the Spa, Shopping and Eating on someone else's dime. If you feel that you could meet my needs and my end goal of being Boca Famous, please respond with cash. Thank you!

Julia

What Am I Doing To Myself?

So I have this idea that I am trying out.  I have Vertigo and drink a ridiculous amount of coffee.  Starbucks.  Not that weak nasty shit at Dunkin Donuts.  DD coffee is for pussies (and I don't use that word because I don't like it unless it fits and I am angry so obviously it fits and I am anger at DD for offering such foul beverage).  Shit even McDonald's coffee is better.  So being that I generally feel like I am "Like a record baby...round..round..round..round."  I am going to try having only one cup of Keurig coffee at home in the morning and the rest of the day water and/or tea.  Today is day two.  And I feel a void already.  No Starbucks in my life for over 24 hours.  I feel like the spirit of the Starbucks God that dwelt within my spirit is leaving.  It's going to be a chance for the DD Demon to creep in and make a scene out of The Exorcism of Emily Rose.  Except it really will just involve me vomitting coffee on people who drink Starbucks.  Anyway my experiment is if I cut out most of the caffeine I would like to see if that is contributing to my "this is not like being drunk and the whole world is spinning with me because we just naked table danced in China from all the Sake we drank with chopsticks but Sake is outta Japan so what is it that we really just drank being that we are in China" type dizzy fun.  This is not enjoyable.  I actually cried the other day driving home because it is miserable like Julia dealing with a phantom toilet seat at night.  There is a solution to everything and I am looking for it.  And actually my suggestion to Julia is either cut his dick off so there is not need for him to raise the toilet seat or have him learn to be like a lady (like I do) or if you wanna be really ballsy you learn to be standing up or just pee on his face while he is sleeping.  Anyway I am totally side tracked.  So no Starbucks today.  Hopefully for a good reason in the end.

Paul Liner

The World According to Paul, per Julia

Me and Paul are like the Will and Grace of 2012, except I am not a gingy and I have slightly larger breasts. Paul has mastered the art of imitation (I no China, I Vietnam as he likes to say). But do to a resentment I harbor against a half asian/half white slut, I do not want to perfect that accent but rather laugh while others slaughter it (> <). I would prefer to be a Southern Belle, minus the drinking problem. A glorious version of myself, I bat my eyes and men come from all over the South to help. No that sounds retard. I prefer to be myself, a loud, annoying Yenta whose jokes reek of sexual overtones and unpolitically correct humor. See this journey of self acceptance is arduous (look it up for you simple minded folk). I believe that there is nothing better than a 5'3 (okay I'm 5'1 and 1/3) slighly overweight, lady who has self love! Some days she is lost but most days you can find her in Boca or in trying to rule the world in Plantation with her best friend Paul (but only if speaks in an accent)!

Peace Love and Breast Implants Ya'll
Julia

Accents, Gunshots, and Thumb Nails

I want an accent.  Something magical and glamourous.  How do I go about finding the appropriate one though?  I have tried a broken Asian accent which by the way I am quite good at.  Hay-ro dis ees Paw I fry in frun China to bee-zit my fam-ah-ree in duh Ways Bo-gin-ya.  I have even learned how to right in this mystical accent.  I love being Asian.  Well Yellow Card official per my ex.  I used to be able to do a Spanish accent in high school.  Chew know?  My Irish isn't too bad.  My creepy fat man/woman voice is good.  Yet I need something more.  I need a new accent.  Something no one has heard before.  I want to be the first Accent Trend Setter.  I want the world to want my voicebox.  I wanna wake up in a tub of ice wondering who highjacked my vocal cords and ponder the meaning of life.  Grrr southern twang that I am stuck with when in West Virginia.  And city accent when I am back in Baltimore.  I want more!!

On the topic of gunshots I just thought it added a little pazazz to the title.  On the topic of thumb nails I removed my American French the other day and walked around with one painted thumb nail and it made me laugh.  I was too lazy to remove it at the time.  I was trailer trash status for a day.  You know you are trailer trash when you have only one painted nail and do nothing about it.  This statement is non-negotiable because it is truth and listed somewhere in the Constitution.

I am in a good mood today.  The world is spinning and so far I am not so that's a perk.  I get to have a needle jabbed in my arm today and that makes me so grateful.  And by grateful I mean I don't like needles unless they have ink attached on the end.  Yay blood. 

So in conclusion if you find a small child say 2 years of age teach them how to Dougie and say Gum-ment cheese/EBT/WIC it makes for a good time.

That's all.

Paul Liner