Car Conversations Never End Well

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Liam: “What was the name of that actor who did the Lincoln commercials?”

Xavier: “Matthew McConaughey.”

Liam: “What was he even in?  Why is he even famous?”

Xavier: “He was in Interstellar, and grown-up women find him attractive.”

Liam: “Mom, do you find him attractive?”

Me: “You mean Matthew McConagh-heeeeeeeeeyyyyyyy.”

Xavier: “Jesus, mother.”

It Be Pirates!!!

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So, to make a very long story short… Some criminal asshole made a duplicate of my credit card, which they then used at a retail store, that shall remain nameless, where a sales associate allowed them to use my card SEVENTEEN times in a row for amounts between 40 and $50, resulting in over $700 in charges. Needless to say, this was both infuriating, and a giant waste of my time to get fixed.

Tracy: “What’s going on with your credit card situation.”

Me: “I’m still working on getting my new card and getting all the charges removed. I filed a police report yesterday.”

Tracy: “Has the store offered to send you anything as a way of restitution since they fucked up?”

Me: “I want more than a gift basket for this bullshit, I want somebody HUNG.”

Tracy: “Honey, we all want someone hung, but I’m pretty sure in lieu of a big dick, you’re just going to settle for a gift basket.”

I Think It’s Safe To Say I Won’t Be Vicariously Attending Prom

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(A series of texts during the Spring Formal I was chaperoning last night.)

Ryan: Did you bring your ruler, so you can measure if there’s room for the Holy Spirit?

Me: If I sent you pictures of the way these girls were dressed, you’d send Morgan to a convent before she hits puberty.  I need a yard stick.

Ryan: What is your exact job at this thing, if they’re letting them in half-naked?

Me: It seems to be me walking around, using a flashlight as a method of birth control.

(Thirty minutes later.)

 

Me: Goddammit! I was right in the middle of the throng, and a fucking Beyonce song came on…

Ryan: That’s going to be the weirdest Worker’s Comp claim in the history of man.

Me: So…much…flailing…

(An hour later…)

Me: We should have made a High School Dance Bingo card for this thing.

Ryan: Has their been an awkward dance battle, yet?

Me: Check. And now two guys have their ties tied around their head.

Ryan: That’s a corner piece. You’re one girl crying in the corner, from a Bingo.

(five minutes later)

Me; BINGO!!!

Ryan: Congrats. The prize is that you have to call her mother.

Me: Fuck!

Now, I Can’t Unsee It.

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Ryan: “Has Matthew ever been with a woman?”

Me: “No, he’s what we refer to as a ‘Gold-star Gay’.  He’s only been with dudes.”

Ryan: “Never tried it out, huh?”

Me: “He refers to the vagina as ‘The Eye of Sauron’.  Vaginas never had a chance.”

I Know, Guys…I Suck, But Tomorrow, I Might Suck AND Be Rich

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Yeah, yeah, yeah…I’ve been slacking with the writing, but I’m going to defend myself and say that I’ve been tied up with Christmas, getting back to work, and my ex-husband holding my children for ransom.  True story.

Anyhoo, one of you, and you know who you are, emailed me, asking if I’d secretly won the lottery and had taken off for parts unknown.  Another of you emailed asking if I was “Seriously dead or just sitting in an asylum and haven’t earned internet privileges, yet”.  I think we can all agree that the second option is far more likely.

Regardless…if any of the following things happen, you’ll know who won the Powerball.

  1. A huge animal rescue opens, called “Megan’s Big Bitches (and boy dogs, too)”.
  2. Sully gets to have his balls back.  Don’t ask how…it’s just going to happen.
  3. Underwires?  Now unbreakable.  You’re welcome.
  4. Tina Fey is on a lifetime retainer to do this, every time one of my children fails to follow a direction already given fifteen times.
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  5. My new legal name: “Thelonious McWhiskeydick”.
  6. An army of drones will follow Donald Trump to all public events, dropping piles of dildos on him.
  7. Unicorns become an actual fucking thing.
  8. Ryan is now at the helm of a privately owned newspaper, whose only purpose is to campaign for increased teacher salaries and talk about how sexually inadequate all my exes were.
  9. This blog starts delivering chocolate bars, Willy Wonka style.
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    Let’s be honest…this movie was an episode of Criminal Minds with chocolate.

    10. Oprah Winfrey names me one of her new favorite things.

In Case You Thought Enemas Were The Most Embarrassing Purchase

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Me: Ryan. Ryan. Ryan. Ryan. Ryan.

Ryan: Yes?

Me: (Sending picture.)

IMG_1015Ryan: What…the…fuck…

Me: Right!? This is a thing now?

Ryan: What aisle are you in, and why?  Do you have something to tell me?

Me: I’m buying tampons, and these were right there.  You know…for people who are blaming faulty sperm for why they still have to buy tampons.  Can we discuss the name “Pre-Seed”!?

Ryan: Can we discuss that for just $44.99 and a handjob I can get 2,000 CVS points!?

Me: Halvsies?

Ryan: Done!

And For My Next Trick, I’ll Need A Blow Torch And A Banana Peel!

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If  you’re not already following Jenny Lawson’s (TheBloggess) Twitter feed of people’s awkward confessions, you’re severely missing out.  I think I’ve done every single thing people have written about, at some point.  I’m THAT awkward.  Case in point…

A text conversation…

Me: Soooooo, I saw a kid walking in my building wearing a nice dress shirt and a tie, so I said, ‘Well, don’t you look handsome today!’.

Tracy: And?

Me: Turns out it’s not a kid…it’s a new 23yo substitute.

Tracy: Oh no…

Me: The look on his face…  I went from friendly mom-figure to cougar in about 2 seconds flat.

Tracy: Awesome. Enjoy sexual harassment class.  Again.

Now, I Want A Cupcake. Okay, I Wanted One Before Then, Too.

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Me: Urban Cookie has the new fall flavors out! You need to try the caramel apple, it’s AMAZING.

Ryan: Everything they make is amazing. They kick Sprinkles’ ass.

Me: Sprinkles is a stupid name, anyway. It’s a name for the world’s shittiest pony.

Ryan: I think my daughter had that My Little Pony.

Me: Was its Cutie Mark a dick?

Ryan: If it was, I’d buy twelve of them.

Me: As long as I get one of them.

Ryan: Fine. Thirteen.