And Seriously, Who Asks This?

Friend: “How come you never like anything I put on Facebook.”

Me: “Do you ever post stuff about dogs?”

Friend: “….no.”

Me: “Well, then, you’ve just answered your own question, haven’t you?”

I Gotta Put ‘Em Somewhere.

Me: (Pensively staring at my 4’10” friend….or according to Google…147cm)

Penny: “What?”

Me: “Nothing.”

Penny: “You’re thinking about how short I am, again, aren’t you?”

Me: “I could totally put my boobs on top of your head.”

Penny: *sigh*

 

Madam, You Should Come With An Asshole Warning

(After a crazy person almost side swiped me, then cut me off, and when I honked…flipped me off.)

Me: “What the fuck!? That bitch!”

Tracy: “Be nice, she has a handicapped plate.”

Me: “I don’t care if she has a seeing eye dog driving the car, she’s a fucking bitch!”

Tracy: “Maybe she’s a bitch because she’s angry about being disabled.”

Me: “Maybe she’s disabled because she was a fucking bitch and someone pushed her down some stairs!”

Tracy: (pause) “Touche.”

 

**And before any of you angrily email me, I have dedicated my life to the Individuals With Disabilities Act, and I feel that just as everyone should equal access to services, that everyone has equal access to being an asshole…a privilege which this woman clearly took.**

Friends Shank Skanks

Me: I FOUND THEM IN BED TOGETHER!!!

Tracy: Again, I find myself asking you…are you talking about your animals, or are you talking about Ryan?

Me: My animals.

Tracy: Again, this just got way less interesting.

Me: Would you prefer I caught Ryan in bed with someone?

Tracy.  No.  But then, at least I’d have someone to stab.

Me: I’m calling your mom.

Tracy: Now I’m going to stab you.

Let’s All Just Be Happy I Didn’t Teach Your Toddlers How To Play Craps And Use the F-Word.

Shockingly, my best friend, Tracy and her husband, left me with their 1-year-old twins for the night.  I know…I know…who do you call CPS on first?

Ryan: How’s the babysitting? They’re down for the night, yes?

Me: Sleeping like baby angels!

Ryan: How many times have they checked in?

Me: Just twice.  I did just send them this…

Dear Tracy and Tim,

Thank you for entrusting me with your two perfect babies. We are having a wonderful time. A few notes… First, you might notice that your son now calls you “Mummy” with a British accent. We apologize, Xavier thought it would be funny. Also, your other nephew, Liam has some concerns that my fake theatrical crying (when I stubbed my toe) might have made your daughter develop an ‘overdeveloped sense of schadenfreude’. His words, not mine. Lastly, I hope you don’t mind that your darlings now call raisins by their proper name…”Lies”.

Miss you! Hugs!
Megan

Ryan: Okay, two issues…  First, what is your issue with raisins?

Me: They’re the worst things that ever happened.  Overstating?

Ryan: But, they had those really cool commercials in the 80’s.  They had merchandise!

Me: If they were so great, they never would have had to sing and dance. The only reason chocolate advertises, is to keep you from buying OTHER chocolate.

Ryan: Point made.

Me: What’s the other issue, you said there were two issues?

Ryan: Oh, just that they’re never going to leave you alone with their children again.

Me: Agreed.

Men…Don’t Read This One. Trust Me. You’re Welcome.

 

My OB/GYN is super efficient.

Okay, so, after 18 months, I’m having my Mirena removed.  I had it put in, essentially because I was sold on the idea that there was an 80% chance that I would stop getting my period. And, yes, I did stop getting actual periods, but what I had instead were 10-14 days of light spotting every five weeks.  Not ideal.  Worse, I gained a TON of weight, which…unless you’re being rescued from a deserted island, isn’t something most women strive for.

Tracy: Where are you?

Me: I’m at the Gynecologist, getting my IUD yanked out.

Tracy: Nice image. Text me when you’re done.

(ten minutes later)

Me: Done.  Easy peasy.

Tracy: Why did you have it removed, again?

Me:

Because this tiny thing, apparently, weighs 26 pounds.  I feel lighter already.

Tracy: Ewww…you took a picture of it?

Me: That’s not the one that came out of me, weirdo, that’s the sample in the waiting room.

Tracy: How many people were in the waiting room?

Me: I don’t know, 25?

Tracy: So, 25 people just watched you take a picture of something that amounts to a Vagina Lego, and you’re calling ME a weirdo?

Me: Touché

I Am Not A Doctor…And I Didn’t Even Play One Behind Tony Spinnutto’s Swingset

Me: “What did the doctor say?”

Jen: “Well, now they’ve added another drug, also NOT on my insurance, to try and thicken my lining, and then I have to go in for an ultrasound to see if it worked, so they will know IF they can even think about doing the IVF cycle.”

Me: “How many meds are you on, now?”

Jen: “Five.”

Me: “Hey, I don’t want to claim to be a doctor, but I’ve heard of this drug that you can take, all by itself, that’s super cheap, and if you take it, you’ll be pregnant, like…constantly.”

Jen: “You’re talking about meth, aren’t you?”

Me: “Have you ever met a meth head with fewer than five kids?”

Jen: “God, it’s true.”

Me: “I’m not convinced it’s not a fertility drug they lost control of.”

Jen: “Maybe it’s not the meth, but all the hooking they do to GET the meth.”

Me: “Well, there’s another option for you.”

Jen: “You’re never babysitting.”