Throw Down in LA Town
This entry is dedicated to wishing Matt Hughes huge amounts of luck in pounding the holy living poo out of Royce Gracie.
I heart Matt Hughes. Shorty is well aware that his status as my Cute Boy would be in sever jepordy if Matt Hughes ever sees the light, dumps his wife, and comes running to me, but Shorty has no one to blame but himself because he got me hooked on UFC.
I'm so freaked - I'm going to be in Valdez for a softball tourney so I'm missing Hughes vs Gracie this weekend, and it's going to be a bad ass fight. Gracie is an insanely good fighter and Matt is the 8 time Welter Weight champion, so this is going to be absolutely awesome and I can't watch it!The fur flies on May 27th! Cheer for Matt!
So apparently I have allergies . . . .
I don't wanna play anymore, I quit! Today was a complete waste of very expenisive eyeshadow, due to the fact that I rubbed/clawed/gouged it off within a half an hour of being at work. My eyes itch, burn and water like crazy, my nose is so stuffy I have to breath out of my mouth and my throat is itchy like a mofo. This is absolutely retarded and I'm done. I've never been allergic to anything, and one little evening of raking leaves in the back, side and front yards has reduced me to a watery, sniffling, itchy, sneezy puddle of misery. (Now that's a good visual!)God, I solemnly swear to never make fun of or feel superior to those with allergies if you just make this go away. Give me a regular old run-of-the-mill cold over this garbage. This is horrible. I feel like crap, and I know I look like it, too. My eyes are red and swollen and I look like I've been sobbing hysterically for the past 398 hours. This morning, Megyn told me I looked 'tired,' which is 6-year-old for, 'Wow, Lindsey, you look like ass!!'Ugh. Valdez is going to suck if I can't kick this, and I feel really, really sorry for everyone who's staying in the motorhome because I'm going to bring down the roof with the Demonic Snoring of Death.Speaking of Valdez, we're leaving tonite at 6:30, and hopefully I'll have lots of fun blackmail pictures to post when I get back . . . . wish us luck! (Yes, I know my little image-guy is Spanish, but he totally looks the way I feel.)
Dayquil is my friend. Dayquil makes me happy. Dayquil allows me to get through the working day when I'd rather be curled up in bed with my kittens, a large box of kleenex and a good book. Sudafed, on the other hand, makes me loopy and unable to function properly, which I discovered last nite when Shorty told me to wake up and stop talking in my sleep because I wasn't making any sense. I made perfect sense in my dream. What does he know?May I advise buying large quantities of stock in the Celestial Seasons tea company as I'll be heading to the store to buy out the rest of the inventory at Fred Meyers as soon as I get off work.I feel like poo and I don't mind complaining about it. I hate being sick. :( Poor Shorty deserves tons of sympathy right now because I am a pain in the butt to live with when I don't feel well. (Whit will vouch for this one!) He was absolutely awesome last nite, though, and had a huge bowl of chicken noodle soup waiting for me as soon as I got home from my ball games. That's right, I have a Kitchen Bitch. Be jealous.Oh, and since you all were waiting with baited breath for the update, I batted okay in my co-ed games last nite. I'm putting partial blame on the Dayquil-induced fog I was in. The rest of the blame goes on my jinx and the eeeevil umpire who called my sweet shot down the third base line foul. Bunghole . . .
The Saga Continues . . . .
During my chick's league games last nite I had another in-the-parker, a few doubles and a triple that should have been another in-the-park home run except that I just didn't feel like running, (we were up 15 - 3) and I was either 10 for 10 or 9 for 9 for the nite. Stay tuned for an exciting update on Thursday when I bitch about how horribly I batted in coed. >:(
I jinxed my ass . . . .
I was o-fer in the first co-ed game (grounded out to the pitcher by trying to hit to right field - you'd think I'd learn!) and I was 1 for 3 in the second game, but only because Henry hauled ass to second and beat the throw, or else it would have been a fielder's choice and our third out. (My first hit was a great power shot out to left that the outfielder was waiting for ((bastard)) and my second hit should have been a nice grounder between short and second except that the short stop ((bastard)) stretched out and caught it.)So apparently I bat great in women's but I suck in co-ed. >:(In other news, I hated the dress I wore today so I hit up Old Navy during lunch and bought a cute new outfit and a matching purse. Life is better now. :)
Call me Daddy!
My very first at-bat of the 2006 softball season was a rocket over the left fielder's head for an in-the-park home run. I almost lapped the runner in front of me. I was 4-5, but only because the left fielder pulled a shocking catch out of her butt, or else I would have had a second in-the-park home run.I actually hit to right field, it was a great hit, I got an RBI and I got on base.We won our first women's game Twenty Something to 6.It's gonna be a good season!!!!
Make it go away!
I have a song stuck in my head, and since I have to deal with the annoyance of having it playing over and over and over and over and over in my little brain, I thought I'd share it so you guys can share my pain, too.I've had 'Love' by Keyshia Cole stuck in my head for three days - here's a link. Go, listen, share it with your friends! I'm treating this like a cold - if you pass it on to someone else it might go away.
Dear Incredibly Rich Guy Who Wants Nothing More Than To Send Me Large Amounts of Money:
As I'm sure you're aware, it's a little dicey to send large quantities of cash through the mail nowadays. Therefore, instead of sending me the obscenely large amounts of money I know you're just itching to fork over, I've compiled a list of appropriate items that you may gift me with:
~ a red 2007 Dodge Dakota 4WD 4 door pick-up with dual exhaust, chome accents and the latest Rockford system.
~ a $100,000 gift certificate to Lowes so that I can remodle my kitchen and downstairs bathroom, re-carpet our upstairs, build a small deck off of our master bedroom, take out the sliding glass door and put in French doors to access our current deck, upgrade to thermal pane windows and landscape our front, side and back yards.
~ anything off the A&F, AE, JCrew, Victorias Secret and Banana Republic websites
~ the entire Nordstroms store (instead of bequething you with the head ache of trying to chose what to purchase, just buy me the store and I'll use items as I see fit.)
~ a private jet
~ season tickets to the Chiefs, Steelers, Yankees and to UFC
~ a getaway mansion in Malibu
~ another getaway mansion in Italy
~ a yacht
~ my very own Louis Jadot vineyard
~ a new Demarini F2 bat
~ a new Miken Freak bat
I'll continue to provide you with an updated list as my gifts arrive.
Your generosity and undying love and devotion are, as always, appreciated.
- Skipper
Thanks! I think . . .
A guy just told me that I look expensive. Did I just get complimented, dissed or hit on??? (Expensive, Shorty, expensive. That does not equal high maintenance!)Now I'm wondering about this. Did he mean expensive as in an expensive hooker, or was he comparing me to an expensive stripper? Or mistress? Is this a good thing? And what exactly is his interpretation of expensive? Is he thinking Walmart expensive (shudder) or Armani expensive?I'm going with Armani expensive. He must have been referring to my stellar fashion sense and blondbomshell looks. Pamela Anderson ain't got nothin' on me!
OUCH! MY UTERUS!!!
Okay, so it's not my uterus. It's my back and it hurts like hell! I had my first softball practice on Sunday, and instead of taking it easy and not screwing around, I decided to dick off and try to hit to right field. This constitutes me dancing around in the batters box like Happy Gilmore, completely twisting my stance around, taking a half swing and primarily using my back muscles to push the ball. Yeah, not smart. I have knots the size of golf balls trailing up my back muscles, it hurts to breathe, and I'm very, very whiney. (Couldn't tell, could ya??) Everytime I move it feels like someone's sucker punching me in the back. I think this is God's way of telling me not to mess with my swing and that I'm not ment to hit to right field.IT HURTS! :( *whimper*
I heart Matt Hughes. Shorty is well aware that his status as my Cute Boy would be in sever jepordy if Matt Hughes ever sees the light, dumps his wife, and comes running to me, but Shorty has no one to blame but himself because he got me hooked on UFC.
I'm so freaked - I'm going to be in Valdez for a softball tourney so I'm missing Hughes vs Gracie this weekend, and it's going to be a bad ass fight. Gracie is an insanely good fighter and Matt is the 8 time Welter Weight champion, so this is going to be absolutely awesome and I can't watch it!
