*Disclaimer: Parts of the following blog are neither politically correct or particularly nice. There will be swearing. There will be references to mentally handicapped persons in a disparaging (but hilarious) context. There will be talk of rebel behavior and debauchery. There will probably be outright lies.
IF you chose to proceed, you accept full and total responsibility and therefore cannot claim any form of butthurtitis or crybabyness. Capiche?*
My bestie Lou wrote her own version of the epic Spring adventure. And, as usual...I have absolutely no recollection of the events as they occurred. With the exception of the train...
THAT I remember
VERY clearly. Because it was traumatic and painful.
So I will...as usual..copy her blog post here...and then regale you with
MY version of events. Which you should all know by now is the unspoken gospel truth. Because...as much as she likes to deny and deflect...Lou is the pathological and compulsive liar. She just can't help herself....sometimes she doesn't even know she's doing it.
Pity.
Lou and I had been planning this trip for months....
MONTHS. We had decided that the train was the best option for me...I don't fly, and driving is increasingly difficult by myself. Plus I figured that the train would be so...1950's romantic...and a great opportunity to take some great photography! Little bit of sleeping, a dining car (with wine!), and a little bit of peace and quiet. Holy crap on a cracker.....
I am scheduled to get on the train at 1:26 am..
IN THE MORNING. Not a huge problem, since I don't sleep...but with packing, and anticipation, and a visit from family...I hadn't really slept on Saturday. So I figured I would take a nice little nap on the train. It's the middle of the night after all. I wait for the train...in the
COLD..outside...in flip flops (cause I'm going to the East Coast...)...and it arrives...mostly on time. I kiss hubby and baby goodbye, chuck my luggage to the porter ( a lovely gentleman who reminded me of Tom Hanks in Polar Express), was told to take Seat 50 (remember that...)...settled in with my blanket and pillow and ear buds. Cue crack whore across the aisle. "You brought a blanket. Aren't
YOU a smart one?" "They told me to bring a blanket when I booked my ticket, said that the trains were cold at night." "This train is fuckin' cold. I'm cold. I've been cold since Chicago. Can't they turn the heat on? Maybe they didn't charge us enough to pay the heat bill"....on and on and on...until the soldier
TRYING to sleep in front of her turned around and told her to
STFU.
OK....quiet.
Slowing down...slowing down...and we're stopped. I don't
SEE a station....hmmmm. Moving again. Find out that debris had to be cleared from an accident involving another train and a car. We are about 30 minutes behind schedule now...and pulling into Cincinnati.
Lawd Hamussey...the pain is about to begin.
I lower the volume on my iPod..because I want to know what is happening...and I hear the following happening behind me..luggage being put in the overhead bins, shuffling, "excuse mes" and "so sorrys"....and
THEN "Seat 51, I'm in Seat 51. Seat 51...my ticket says Seat 51." Jesus, Mary and the Camel....I'm about to sit next to Rainman.
F.U.C.K.
"Hi, I'm Wayne!" "I'm going to see my brother. He's retired from the Air Force. I work at Kroger's. In the Meat Department. I have 2 dogs and 7 cats. Wanna see pictures? I have pictures on my phone. Here...this is Fluffy, this is SpongeBob, this is Max, this is Jesus...."........................................................................
THIS WENT ON FOR 4 MORE HOURS.
"Wayne, where are you headed?" (please say West Virginia..please say West Virginia)...."Arlington."
F.U.C.K.
Wayne the Retard continued to talk to me for the
ENTIRE 14 hours of my trip.
FOURTEEN MOTHERFUCKING HOURS. And offering me food..."You wanna sammich?"..."Ummm, no thank you Wayne."....and as mustard and mayo dripped down his chin and arm...I'm pretty sure I made the right decision to pass on his date rape laced sammie.
And let me not forget to tell you about the
LOVELY little girl sitting directly in front of me. She was all of 3. With the sweetest little braids in her hair. You know the kind...with the clacky balls on the end? Yeah...her drunk mom slept through the whole trip...so little girl kept staring at me. Which was cute for about 4 minutes. Then I just started kicking the back of her seat. And Wayne...
SIGH...thought it would be ever so helpful...at 530 in the ever loving morning...to provide little girl with his portable DVD player so that she could watch a movie.
YES WAYNE....why don't we give the little girl Mary Fucking Poppins...with
NO EAR BUDS!
BRILLIANT IDEA WAYNE! FUCK YOU WAYNE! Dancing Penguins...hehehe...click clack click.
Slitmywristsandbleedalloverthetrain.
OH...and even when Wayne's sweet 86 year old father fell...into my armrest (and basically my lap)...busting his head open and
REQUIRING STITCHES AT THE NEXT STATION STOP...do you think Wayne stopped talking to me? No...the answer would be no.
Never was I so happy to see a Lou in all my life. And she brought me caffeine. And took me directly to a bathroom....which was good. Because train bathrooms are the epitome of G R O double S.
Epic Epicness may now begin....so from here on out...I am copying Lou. I will fill in the necessary revisions and truth tellings as needed.
We stopped to get some dinner because she was starving slap to death.(Truth. All that avoiding date rape sammies makes a girl hungry!) OK, Hardee's, yeah, it sounds good. Inside the Hardee's....apparently, I have brought her to the ONE Hardee's in Virginia Beach that the homeless people call home. What the hell is happening right now? This chick has moved into the Hardee's. She had all her stuff organized on the table that she was conveniently SLEEPING ON. Yeah, you read that right, SLEEPING ON. Not only was there the homeless lady, then there was the old homeless man that fell asleep drinking his coffee and was DROOLING on himself. The Hardee's employees, just mopped around them. Not one care in the world that the HOMELESS PEOPLE WERE LIVING IN THE HARDEE'S. One hour in Virginia Beach, already an event to remember.(Homeless Hardee's! Strike Me Pink...That shit was funny. Never mind that I had been awake for about 37 hours. Homeless people living in the fast food establishment. Cray.)
We managed to remove ourselves from the Homeless Hardee's unscathed, slightly emotionally scarred, but, physically, we were OK. Off to pick up the heathen children. Banana enjoyed talking with the parental units for a few minutes and then we headed to my house. Day 1, in the books.(Love me the 'Rents!...what a couple of cool cats!)
DAY 2
I woke Banana as nicely as possible (lie) to warn her of the impending hellish experience, which is getting my children up for school. I got her up like this: "Banana. Ba-nan-a." "What?" "All hell is about to break loose." "Why?" "I am about to get my kids up for school." "Oh. OK. Already?" "Yes." I managed to get her and the children up, and filed the children off to school. First stop...WaWa.(YES!! Sweet Mary Jehoshaphat's I missed me some WaWa!) Oh coffee, you know how I love you. Breakfast was at Citrus, a lovely, local restaurant that was featured on Diners Drive Ins and Dives.(My idea.) After that we went roaming around in some thrift stores and managed to score some pretty sweet shit.(Also my idea.) While in one of the thrift stores, an associate sneezed....no one blessed her. Well, wrong move, she got PISSED. “HELLO?!?! Isn't ANYONE gonna BLESS ME?” Banana gets this look on her face, I know this look. “I'm paying, right now, let's go.” Before the door can even properly shut behind us, Banana explodes with this: “IF YOU HAVE TO ASK FOR IT, I'M PRETTY SURE IT'S NOT GONNA WORK!”(First off I want to say, you are lucky I waited until we were outside...that bitch was in need of a reality check. Second...RIGHT?) At the next thrift store, we managed to find a black, pleather S&M puppy costume. Banana thought this was just the funniest shit she had ever seen, so, we stood there discussing how badly her girl weenie dog needs this outfit, and how boy weenie dog would be THRILLED with it. ( I can hear the convo now...Z: "That's MY bitch. You a sexee bitch. Oh yeah babee you know that's what I like" W: "Fuck off, You. I'm sexy and I know it. Do you SEE the pink collar? LOOK AT IT!"...I need to add that Lou pretty much pees her pants laughing at my imitation of my pups...loudly, in the store, no filter....inappropriate probably.)
On our way to our lunch date, Anna managed to introduce me to “Tusk” and belted “Cecelia” at me. It was amusing, and memorable and the highlight of my day.(Good music right there....and you needed to know it. You are welcome.)
Next up...lunch, with Kim, my AMAZING sister in law.(Love her!) We begin our lunch by telling her the hilarious adventures in the thrift stores. After laughing hysterically about the S&M puppy, we tell her about the sneezing associate. Her response? Are you ready? No, really? Get ready. “Next time someone sneezes, I am gonna look at them and say 'Go to hell.'”(Still saying it. Confuses people. Pretty sure everyone hates me now.) Yeah, that's what she said, so, now, don't be offended if when you sneeze, someone yells out “Go to hell!”, it's love, it really is. Then Banana commenced to tell her train story.(Lou pretty much sick of hearing it now.) The waitress we had was slightly overzealous. OK, MASSIVELY overzealous. I would take about 4 sips of my drink and POOF, there she was to fill my glass and ask if we needed anything else. NO, NO WE DON'T...please go away don't come back. We are TRYING to talk here. So, Kim decides that if she manages to come back to the table again, she is gonna shank her with the butter knife Yep, that's right, a butter knife I love my sister in law.(OK...Lou totally forgot to add the part that apparently in my ZEAL to tell the train story I might have said the word retard a tad too loudly a time or two. And that next to us there might or might not have been sitting a little old lady and her mentally handicapped daughter. Which clearly I did not see. So as we are leaving and Kimbo is telling me this, she picks up an enormously large candy bar, thrusts it at me, and says "take this and go apologize to them"....the fuck you say. Not happening. Shit outta luck...my bad.)
Home. Minions. Dinner. TV. Bed.(Zzzzzzzzzz....)
DAY 3
We started our day with coffee (YAY!) and a breakfast sandwich (YUM!) from WaWa, DUH. After that, we went to get pedicures! It was so much fun. First of all, I have to tell you that I have the BEST guy that does my nails, so, when he was available for a pedicure, I was all about it. Unfortunately, nail guy decides that while he is scrubbing all the unattractive dead skin off my feet, he is going to IGNORE the fact that I am literally crying because I am laughing so hard. He has no clue. Banana and her nail girl were watching me, no longer pedicuring, and laughing hysterically at my clear and obvious painful laughter.(I have to say that this might have been one of the highlights of the trip....I had tears running down my face, and my crazy gay Korean pedi lady is staring like WTF is wrong with this girl?....Good times!) This is NOT what I expected. So, nail guy decides he is gonna take note of the painful laughter he is inflicting upon me and be done. We finished up our pedicure. While we were drying I got a call from the DH, and was able to chat with him for a few minutes. That made me happy. After the pedicures were dry, we made our way to the truck. I in my flip flops (because I am a GENIUS and wore FLIP FLOPS to get a pedicure), and Banana in her stylish pedicure flops.( Because I was not INFORMED that we were planning pedis...and my shoes were fucking CUTE!) HA HA, she looked HYSTERICAL.(Fuck You Lou.) We decided that we should run over to Target and peruse the store.(I changed back to my cute shoes.) Just to make sure there wasn't anything we needed. We strolled around for a little bit, and then, Banana found it. The most amazing, wonderful, PERFECT best friends necklace, EVER. A rainbow with a star that says BFF and a Unicorn with a star that says BFF. Now, if you know us, you will CLEARLY see the reason that we so desperately needed these necklaces. For those of you losers who don't know us, let me inform you. We are always talking about Rainbows and Unicorns and glittery shit. OK? Got it now? Good. Moving on. Banana says “We so totally need these. I will have to be the Unicorn and you can be the rainbow.” So, I asked Banana “Wait, Unicorns SHIT rainbows, right?” This, was her answer. Are you ready? Are you sure? You may want to take a potty break, cuz this is GOOD. I'll give you a minute to pee. Seriously. Go. (Insert dramatic pause) Banana says “Yeah, you have to be the rainbow, because YOU are the SHIT!” Oh, I totally get it now, totally. Sadly, we left the Target with NO Unicorn and rainbow necklaces. I just don't feel right wearing Unicorn shit on my neck. (I don't get it. The necklaces were da bomb. Still wish we would have bought them. Kinda sad about it.)
So, we come home, get the little's and head out to dinner with my sister and niece. Well, strike me pink. It was a dinner to remember.(JENNAY!!! This bitch is cray...for real. She fits right in with us.) Laughter through the entire meal, fairly well behaved children, and fortune cookies! YEAH! The best part of the meal. On the back of my fortune for my lesson in Chinese that night was.......BANANA. Yeah, you heard that right. It was banana. So, Banana says, “HEY! That's me! I'mma need to get that tattooed somewhere on my body. That would be awesome until some Chinese person walks up to me and says, 'what does that say?' and I say 'banana', and he says, 'No, that no say Banana.'” Then, my sister pipes up with “Yeah, cuz it probably means Twat Farm.” WHAT did she just SAY? REALLY? Stuff me with the rough end of a pineapple! That was fantastic!!! Banana's jaw hits table.(THUNK) YES, Twat Farm it is.(That is epic. If anyone else had said it..not nearly as entertaining.) Epic word. Going in the regular rotation of BananaLou. We managed to get out how she came up with twat farm, and she simply said this: “OMG, I have this book....” (Dangerous words to Banana and Lou.) “One night we were sitting around and had to find a word of the night, and this book, Creative Cursing, is a flip book and you create curse words, and so, twat farm was the word of the night.” By this time, Banana and I are in TEARS. This is getting better and better. Epic trip of epicness. YES. Continuing on. We finished up, said our goodbyes, came home and got ready for bed.(NOT how the story happened. YES she said the word...and it WAS epic. But we did not find out about the book until the next day. I called J to tell her that I had told this story to J-Love Tat ~cause J needs to chill and ink up~ ...and after her mortification wore off, she told me the story of the book...record straight...)
Let me tell you this. Before you decide to invite Banana to your house, I need to tell you some stuff. She is needy. Crazy needy. She sits in my bed, incessantly scratching her legs and whining. “Itchy, itchy, itchy, itchy. REBEL YELL......I'M ITCHY. REBEL YELL, HELP ME. STOP THE ITCHING.” “Here, take some of this. Put some of this on. It puts the lotion on the skin.” Banana sleeping, shortly after.(I AM needy. This part is true. And while I don't APPRECIATE you airing my bizniss all over blogland...I should clarify that I only fell asleep because you Roofied me. You gave me an undisclosed medication which caused me unconsciousness. Pretty sure that's a FELONY in most states. You are lucky I like you.)
DAY 4
EPIC DAY OF ALL EPICNESS. TATTOO DAY!!! Yes. First of all, I have the most bad ass tattoo guy EVER. J-Love. (Insert explanation of new name here: I am friends with J-Love on the Facebook.(Me Too!) He always, yes, always posts positive and encouraging messages.(He does! It's annoying!) There is a Christian radio station, Positive and Encouraging K-Love. Therefore, new name for my tattoo genius. Perhaps a good bowl of shit Wheaties for breakfast may change his outlook, but, you know, for now, it works for him, and he always makes me smile, and think, and realize.....Life doesn't suck as bad as I think it does.)(He IS pretty awesome...but just once I'd like him to post an assholeish status. Just ONCE.) He is amazing. For real. I went to see him a week before to tell him what we were wanting and see if he thought he could sketch it up. Well, of course, he did. So, today is the day we get inked!! YAY! Super exciting.
Before we can go get our fresh ink we must be caffeinated Wawa....coffee....elixir of life. Creamer, almost out...Banana uses the end of the creamer (she will try to tell you that I did it, but, SHE did it. She is a pathological liar and you can't ever believe what comes out of her mouth.)(LOU GAVE ME AN EMPTY CREAMER CONTAINER. SO OF COURSE I USED THE LAST OF IT. BITCH. And the fact that she also used the last of the coffee should be proof enough.) I go over to get some coffee, DRIP. Oh great, that's just lovely, one drip of coffee. Guy in suit standing beside Banana says that it is good luck to use the last of the coffee creamer.(Did I ASK you to speak to me before I've even SIPPED my UNCREAMERED coffee? NO!) That bastard was a LIAR. BIG FAT LIAR. This was the start of the Creamer Karma day.(Creamer Karma. Not as bad as Jesus Karma. But definitely more annoying.)
Off we go to our favorite tattoo and piercing studio, Virginia Beach Ink. Banana, being the bad ass that she is, get's her cartilage pierced by Shimp while we are waiting for J-Love to finish preparing for us.(OUCH.) The wait was not long. Back we go. We are ready for this! READY. We have spent months planning this day. J-Love says “Who's first?” (Banana, pointing at me) “Me. Let's go.” (I need to tell you that I am getting not just one tattoo, but two, and a touch up. Because I am THAT bad ass. Yeah. I am. True story.)(True story.) Banana is looking at me “You're gonna cry. YOU are gonna cry. I see it coming. You are all kinds of scared. You crybaby.” I look over and say “I am gonna give you a vocalectomy if you don't shut up.” J-Love looks at me and says “No, punch her in the face, no, in the throat, then she can't talk.”(How rude. I really thought you loved me J-Love. What happened to all that Peace, Love, Happy bullshit you continuously spout? Hmmm?) Banana “I will shank you with my leg stubble.”(Which is inaccurate, because I had already shaved leg stubble off. I was getting a freaking tattoo on my ankle people!) J-Love puts on a tiara in honor of my bad assness, and commences to assaulting my ankle with his evil tattoo machine that I absolutely adore.
About 10 minutes in to my tattoo, Banana starts turning a little green. She says she is not feeling so well and that she is quite nervous. (I am cool, calm and collected.) “I don't think I can do this. I think I might throw up.” “YOU are gonna CRY Banana. YOU are gonna be a wussy girl. YOU are not allowed to chicken out on this. We planned this. We are making this happen.” “I'm not gonna chicken out, I just might throw up, that's all.”( I would like to add here...I don't recall this portion of the conversation. But if I DID..I want to say that I have gotten inked before. Four times before in fact. I really do not know what my issue that day was. I am blaming the effects of the roofie that Lou gave me on my ill stomach. My story...sticking to it.) “Whatever, weenie.” “Shut up. You date rape drugged me last night and today, my butt hole hurts.” Laughing I say “What? I have no idea what you are talking about.” “YOU. Date. Rape. Drugged. Me. Last. Night.” “I did not. What did you say about your butt hole?” J-Love looks up at this point and says “Well, it's noon, and you didn't say anything about it until now, so, you must have liked it.” “No, I was still under the effects of her date rape drug until this very moment. She did it. She is a bad person. Hurt her.” “I don't hurt girls.” “PHHHHHT. He likes me. He won't hurt me. I am a GOOD customer. YOU are a weenie customer. Talking about barfing and shit. PHHHHHT.”( There might have been some choice adult language here...and a temper tantrum.)
Banana decides that now would be a good time to start taking pictures of random and amazing things in the shop. I will let her have the glory of showing you those photos with the exception of THIS ONE, which I took, because, let's be honest, it's my favorite and I took it.( I still put Eos Photography on it though...'cause it was my camera. And I was having a temper tantrum.)
While Banana is on her small and very brief photo extravaganza,
J-Love is discussing with me grilling steaks and tuna steaks. We talk about how we like our meat cooked. (Hahaha...you said meat.) (Go ahead, words are failing me at the moment. Laugh, get it out of your system....Are you good now? OK, let's resume.) Banana pipes up with this “YUCK. Tuna. YUCK. Gross. Hate. Nasty. Smelly. BARF.”( Tuna is nasty. Hate it.) I say; “Clearly, you have never had a decent tuna steak, because, they are not fishy and gross and smelly. They are very good.” “But tuna SMELLS.” “Only if it is in a can.” “No, it smells anytime.” J-Love looks up and says: “If it smells bad, don't eat it. That applies to many areas of life.”(Good advice. File that one away, Kiddos.) Tattooing continues and Banana starts telling me that she is way more bad ass than I am and that this will be her FIFTH tattoo, and she has one that covers her ENTIRE back, so, that counts as more. I ask J-Love to look at her back tattoo, and then tell me if her back tattoo is bigger than my back tattoo. J-Love accommodates my crazy request and agrees with me, that mine is way more than hers, and it should count as two.( He only said that cause you were PAYING!) BOOYAH! In your face BANANA. We finished up my ankle, touched up my wrist and did my other wrist tattoo. As J-Love is putting the bandages on my ankle, I nearly fall.( I laughed my ass off too.) Creamer Karma. That's what that shit is. Creamer Karma shall follow me for the rest of the week. I looked like I had been released from a mental hospital and had been put on suicide watch.
Then, it was Banana's turn. Strike Me Pink, what a baby. (Was not. Shut it, Lou.) I can't even believe this. She is all kinds of scared and shaky and green and I really did think she was gonna barf. She says “I'm gonna need some restraints or something.” J-Love looks up and says “You need restraints? I gotta stress ball.” “Has anyone ever thrown up while you are tattooing them?” “Yeah. I also had a guy pass out and pee all over himself.” This is interesting information. File in back of head. NEVER PASS OUT AND PEE MY PANTS WHILE GETTING A TATTOO. So, I, being the awesome and amazing friend that I am try to keep her mind off of it. She, did not appreciate me. She proceeded to yell something at me about “Needles in bone sockets”. I'm not sure what she was talking about, but, OK. I went with it. (J-Love was jamming a sharp ass needle directly into my bone socket and you were prattling on and on about something vanilla and absurd. And I was totally NOT a baby. At least MY body accepts ink...you banana orange ink hater.)
Somehow we got on the subject of J-Love needing to order pink gloves for October. I look at him and ask “You are gonna order PINK gloves?” Because, honestly, I am amazed that he is manly enough not only to wear a tiara while tattooing me (which he did NOT wear while tattooing Banana, because, I am way more special)(still totally pissed about that), AND he wears pink gloves. He says “Yeah, pink gloves. Breast cancer awareness month. These hands support tata's.”OK, I like it. Do it. Now, I have to go get a tattoo in October, just so I can see if he will wear pink gloves AND a tiara when he tattoos me. Challenge on....J-Love, do you accept? Banana finishes her tattoo WITHOUT crying. (Proud bestie moment.) Somewhere in there J-Love tries to convince Banana that she and Boris (her DH)( Can't believe you called him this on here! What a stupid dumbass...I hate his face.) need to rent a party bus, drive out, let him know when they are coming, and he will have the grill fired up with tuna steaks and we will party and tattoo all day long. I believe this should be a reality. For real. THAT would be AMAZING.( This IS happening. I have the ink idea already picked out. Let's do it in October so we can see the pink gloves!)
Off we go to Sonic for a cream slush to reward ourselves for our bravery and will to push through and get these tattoos. (Yum!) Oh, and we got one for J-Love too, because he was nice, and amazing, and put up with our shit, and engaged in the awesome epicness, and wore a tiara.(Reward for enduring non stop mine field of loony. Although he will probably tell you we were the most fun he had all week! Or he better.....)
Dinner, don't remember where.(Does it really matter?) Home. Computers. Sleep.
DAY 5
PREENER DAY! YES! (Totally LURVE this bitch!!) Been waiting for this shit all week. Meet amazing, motorcycle riding Preener at the I-Hop for breakfast. We were discussing our tattooing adventure, and I was talking about how my back tattoo is bigger than Banana's back tattoo, and Preener looks up and says “What are we talking about? Who's back boobs are bigger? Cuz, mine are.”(OWN that shit, Preener. You can HAVE this one!) “WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT PREENER?” “Back boobs. That's the topic, right?” “No. But, OK, if that's where you want to go with this.” Breakfast was lovely. We dropped Preener's motorcycle (Stella) off at her house and headed out to poke around in some stores. Preener had seen this new little shop that she wanted to check out. It was awesome. For real. Little antique shop. Loved it. Then we went to the Goodwill. We walk in the front door. Preener notices that upon entrance to the Goodwill , there is a basket of butter knives. She turns to us and says; “Arm yourselves in the Goodwheel with a butter knife....they have the good shit....bitches be cray up in the Goodwheel. Write that down.” (Something is not right when you have to ARM yourself with a shank to enter the crap store. Shit better be dipped in GOLD. We in the betta Ghetto.)
Banana tries on a witches hat.(for babies.) I found a crystal weight. Literally, looked like a weight, that you use to exercise, but TINY. I look at Banana and tell her “I think you need this crystal weight.” Banana, lifting said tiny crystal weight;“Workin' out. Losin' some weight.” That's some funny shit right there.
Preener sees a guitar on our way out and contemplates purchasing, but decides not to.
Off to lunch. Me:“Banana, try this dip.” Banana: “It's good, but it has a little after burn.” Preener: “Your mom has after burn.”(She's a thirteen year old boy trapped in a hot chicks body.)
I am not sure how this came about but, at some point Preener said that we go together like Peanuts and Mayonnaise. (Seriously, still confused about this. Preener, care to explain?) (Dafuq Preener? We TOTALLY go together. Peanuts and Mayo...not so much. Of course, Preener believes that "If we all had a bong, we'd all get along. Could explain...) Also, we discussed that I am now calling President Obama, Barry. For some reason, Banana stated something about me saying “Barry is gonna get me an AK47.” Honestly, I don't remember what we were talking about, perhaps Banana will remember more accurately. (We were discussing road trips and drive by shootings...to which Preener decides that she can just throw a mattress in the back of your truck (traveling in style) and you said that Barry could buy you an AK-47. Preener and I were amused that you fancy yourself on a first name basis with Mr. Obama. Maybe you and Preener been sharing that bong?)
We dropped Preener off at her house, managed to run to the book store, secure creative cursing and redneck creative cursing. While waiting on the little’s arrival home, we came up with these words:
Jizz Monkey
Pecker Clot
Clit Clot
'Gina Junkie
Crap Blower
Juice Munch
Testicle Diddler
Poop Rag
Pecker Folds
Queef Flaps
Ho Biscuit
and......
Fetus Hole.
AND:
Muff Diddler
Honky Jerker
Bubba Poker
Cock Wanker
Crust Jerker
Trailer Park Crapper...my personal favorite
Bitch Slut Monger
Gut Banger
Skunk Weasel
Chode Swab
Knob Swab
Muff Sandwich
Tang Farter
Bush Fungus
Mama Hole
Possum Plug
Bastard Mucus
Snatch Beater
Grease Farter
Confederate Packer
Rodent Ball Sack
At dinner, Banana had an amazing idea.(Aren't all my ideas amazing?) She thought we should go back to the Goodwheel and purchase the guitar for Preener as an early birthday present. Well, we went. Guitar was gone, hat was gone, crystal weight was gone, and if we had walked back there, I am sure the unicorn was gone too. Pretty sure the creepy singing guy went and bought all the things we entertained ourselves with.(Joy Stalker)
Home. TV. Computers. Bed.
DAY 6
That morning, we got our usual coffee and something to munch on.(Panera) We went to Micheal’s and poked around in there.( Then we went to the big wine store...for Virginia wine for Bananas souvenir.) In the truck, we hear a song....Banana “This guy here, is my baby Mama.” “What?” “Justin Timberlake, he my baby Mama.” “OK, he is a GUY, so, I am pretty sure he would be your baby Daddy.” “Shut up Rebel Yell.”( Fucking hate when I screw up some shit like this. Whatever. And I hate that it's always THAT shit that Lou remembers and gets factual.)
We had a lunch date with Preener, again. We decide to go to Fruitive. OK, let me tell you, Fruitive is this crunchy granola, hippie, everything is made from Kale store. The entire place smells of chlorophyll.(and science.) Banana and I are SCARED.(because clearly we fat bitches and we don't eat chlorophyll rabbit food.) We are standing there, looking at the menu, crunchy granola guys just watching us, not saying a word.(probably wondering if we were going to eat them) Clearly, we do not belong here. Preener arrives and we send her in. Well, Jason Mraz clearly has a HUGE crush on Preener. He is talking to her and all up in her shit.('cause he likes thirteen year old boys cleverly disguised as a hot chick) Then, Preener's boyfriend arrives. We meet boyfriend and decide we like boyfriend.(he cool.I got a Facebook friend request. Did you, Lou? No..because I am cooler.) We order. We drink our smoothies, WITHOUT kale.(Smoothie seemed like the safest non kale option.) Preener and boyfriend eating real food from there that I am pretty sure they snuck Kale into, even in the water. I hope that Preener and boyfriend enjoyed the Kale water.(Hey Preener...was your poo green?) Out come the creative cursing books. Preener: “SISTER PORKER?” Now, she nearly dies of embarrassment as we are sitting outside and there are a lot of people around. Yep, right in the middle of a crowd, she yelled out sister porker. HILARIOUS. Preener also discovers the word Possum Bagger. I like it. In my extensive vocabulary it goes.(Funny tidbit...Preener is a writer. A good one. And she wants to write a steamy love scene. But she gets embarrassed when she says Sister Porker in public. You do the math. AND she calls a penis a weenis......I for one CANNOT WAIT for 51 Shades of Weenis by Preener.)
I discussed with Preener the fact that she has named her bike Stella, and dismissed my suggestion of Shoshanna. That way she can call her Shosh for short. She does not appreciate my creative genius. I ask boyfriend if he will name his bike Shoshanna for me. He denies my request.( And laughed. You forgot that part.) Whatever, creative genius haters, now, my truck is Shoshanna. I am getting it put on her tailgate. Somewhere along the line in the conversation, there was a mention of me just adopting a baby and naming her Shoshanna and trading her for an I-pod. I don't know what that is all about, but it did spark an interesting conversation later between Banana and I where I dubbed her Chiquita. Chiquita she shall remain.( This nickname is most unwelcome.)
Home. Little’s. Dinner, at Highway 55, which is DELICIOUS. If you haven't been, you should go. Home. TV. Computers. Bed.(Dinner was really good this evening...will remember for next visit. Diner food rocks.)
Day 7
The morning was laid back and consisted of Chiquita packing her things so she was ready to go in the morning. We had an amazing conversation. I drug her to Walmart in her pajamas, because, hey, it's Walmart. Who DOESN'T go in their pajamas? (Ummm...me usually.) During our time in Hellmart, Chiquita is saying wildly inappropriate things. Out loud. For everyone to hear.( I really don't know what I was saying...but since I don't have a filter..and I was in WalMart..and I HATE it there, this is probably factual.) I turn to her and I say: “Do you know why I love you so much?” “Why?” “Because you are so incredibly inappropriate at all the right times, and you just don't care who knows it.” “I think I might be a little offended by that statement.” “Don't be, I love you for it.”We were getting some crackers, and Chiquita was bitching, because, let's face it, she hates Hellmart as much as I do. So, I look at her and say: “If you don't stop, I am gonna shove this up your stink hole.” “My speak hole?” “No, your STINK HOLE.” “Oh, I like speak hole better.”(Still using this phrase. Speak hole. Awesomesauce. In Lou's case...stink hole and speak hole are actually one in the same. I want to also add that this particular WalMart is already on my shit list...they have the WORST fat people bathroom stall EVA. The toilet paper is so far away from the toilet that with my little T-Rex arms I had to actually WALK over to the holder...with my pants down, to get paper, to wipe, to walk back, to flush. RIDICULOUS. Actual handicapped people beware...you are never gonna be able to survive a simple piss.) (ALSO.....how many WalMart employees does it take to set up a Maxwell House coffee display? No less then 5 of them...including a manager were arranging a stack of them, Lou and I are walking by as one of the employees tilts the stack ever so gently to the right...and the whole thing comes crashing down. Me..in my Aunt Jamammie do-rag and PJ's says "That didn't work out so good for ya, did it?"...a little shocked and surprised that they didn't kick us out.)
We didn't do much of anything after that.(How could we? I was exhausted from peeing.) Just hung around. We did go for a nice dinner for Chiquita's last night in the VA.(DW's Grill...Yum!) Chiquita got some white jello for desert. She bites white jello and says, with mouth full, “Do NOT eat the white jello. White jello tastes like paint.”(GAH!!! Nasty Paint Jello!) Little boy decides that white jello that tastes like paint is delicious. I am a little concerned.(It's all those paint chips you fed him...isn't it?)
We came home, had a lovely evening together, and attempted to go to bed early since we had to get an early start in the morning.(We attempted..but I don't think we succeeded.)
Day 8
Early morning. UGH. But, we got up, got ready, dropped off the little’s and hit the road. If we make good enough time, we can stop at this amazing cemetery that I found. There are dead presidents there. There is a whole section for Confederate Officers. It's amazing. We made amazing time, and had about an hour to poke around in this cemetery. This 165 acre cemetery that we are both quite pissed that we didn't devote an entire day to. Oh well, another reason for Chiquita to come back.(Like I need a reason!) We managed to get some amazing pictures in our short time there, and headed to the station so that Chiquita could travel home. I expressed my extreme concern that she would be stuck with Wayne again on the train. She said “Wayne on the train is insane in the brain.” ( I wrote poetry!!) Fitting. We get to the station and she nearly missed her ride. OOPS. It's all good though. We chucked her luggage in she hugged my neck and hopped on the bus. I got to Shoshanna as fast as I could, and drove down to McDonald's and cried in the bathroom.( I cried on the bus...and on the train.) I hate goodbyes. HATE. LOATHE. Can't stand them. I composed myself, grabbed some lunch, and got back on the road. I cried into my french fries and chicken sandwich. I cried looking at trees, and I cried going over the bridge. I cried the whole way home. It sucked. For real. BUT, I know that we will have more epicness, more awesomeness, more potatin' and way more BITCHIN'! (Good news! I was blissfully Wayne free for the trip home. Added bonus, I discovered that the seat feet reclined as well as the actual seats...so I was able to stretch out, chill, read a little, take some pictures out the window, and just in general enjoy the trip back!)
So, there you have it, a week of epic proportions. All smashed into this ridiculously long blog. I hope you enjoyed reading of our adventures. Some of which had to be shortened for the sake of the blog. Some of which had to be edited for the sake of humanity. But, make no mistake. We left our mark. We tattooed the town. It will NEVER be the same. We also came upon most valuable information that I feel I should share with the entire blogosphere. Stop Reproducing. Your Vagina Is Not A Clown Car. (FACTS!!!!!!)
A crazy long winded version of events. It was definitely epic and cosmic and amazing......and I am not sure that any of us will ever fully recover from it. Love me some bitches. And I got some good ones.
XOX!
