September 9, 2011

This post is randomer than normal because I’ve been a lazy wanker and haven’t posted in a week and just have to catch you up on a bunch of stuff that is in no way connected. I wouldn’t even read it if I were you. And I know randomer isn’t a word. That’s why I used it, yo.

Today is a scattered kinda day. Which I know is a big-ass shock. Kinda like when you found out Boy George was indeed a boy. So if you don’t like reading my more disconnected postings, you should stop reading NOW.

And for those of you who are still here, you guys are awesome and I’m so glad we got rid of those goody-goody nerds who can’t keep up with normal things like Wheat Babies and Babycado Trees and Unicorn Bikes and Time Burgers and P-Hugs and super-basic stuff like that.

I mean, it’s really quite simple.

Anyway…. last time I blogged I was getting ready to have a tooth pulled. And since I’m a super wuss about all things dental, they totally gassed me up. And they left me in the chair for awhile for it to work it’s magic. The tv was on. I had my iPhone. And I posted a few things on FB and took the following notes:

-Put birds in sterilizer. Assholes. Freakin’ birds. Keep outta my hair. Sterilize them all. Dentist said so.
-James Spader. WTF? Hot asshole. Pretty Pink. Sexy. Growed up bad. Glasses. Doughy.
-Kathie Lee. Yoda? Hoda. Don’t let her sing Hoda. You’re bigger than her. Take bitch down.
-Cats and maxi pads. Why? My cat no period. No puberty. Still bitchy drama.
-Teeth are assholes.
-I’m a good girl. Don’t f@ck with me. Satb. (I think that’s supposed to be stab)
-Why does that door go? Where? Alley? Hobo? Hobos have no teeth. Usually. Stupid gummy hobos.
-Like a scuba. Sharks not.
-Beautiful mojo tooth.

And I think all of that is really quite self-explanatory. Not to mention deep as well as geniusy.


And the Dental Assistant told me my tooth was beautiful and she let me bring it home. Which is good news. Cuz I’m pretty sure it has at least part of my mojo in it, and I was afraid that once it was gone I would turn into a nerd or something. Like The Hub. So now I wanna make it into a piece of jewelry so I can keep it with me all the time. And at first I thought it would make a nice necklace, but then one of my FB people said to make a ring. And that totally made more sense because the only jewelry I regularly wear are rings. So I was explaining to The Hub about the jewelry and my reasoning for wanting the ring vs the necklace and after I went in depth about the pros and cons of each and what kind of setting would best showcase it, he looked at me with that look that says “Oh my God…you’re a dumb-ass” and he said to me “You’re talking about this like you’re actually gonna wear it.” Duh. Who wouldn’t? (a) It’s a mother-frickin’ tooth. (b) It’s beautiful. The Dental Assistant said so. And (c) It contains at least 42% of my Mojo. Wearing it is really a no-brainer.

Sometimes I worry about that man.

Another thing that happened recently, is that The Boy was taking photos of people with his 3DS because it turns your photograph into a Mii. And everyone else had normal Mii’s that resembled their photos. Then this happened:

And I realized that the 3DS can really, REALLY see me. And what it sees is that I have the soul of a black man. Which is part of the reason I dance so well. And can rap my ass off. And I have always said that I was once a black man who died in a scuba diving accident. I remember it clearly. So this DS is like some kind of Psychic that totally shows you who you used to be. And who you are inside. Either that or it sensed my special connection with my Pilates instructor, Phillip. Because it kinda looks like him:

And remember when I went to Missouri in July and my friend “forgot” to put my giant pickle in the cooler for our float trip because she was too busy jonesin’ for some Skoal while I sang a rendition of that Joey Baby song form the 90’s which was not only awesome, but about addiction. I think it was about addictionI mean, I could totally be wrong. I admit it took me years to figure out what She Bop or Turning Japanese meant. But I’m pretty good at deciphering story-type songs. Like that one the fat half of Heart sang about raping a hobo in the rain and getting all knocked up on purpose. And I’m pretty sure that Joey song was about someone trying to get their loved one to stop chewing Skoal. Anyways…after I bitched about her punishing me by leaving Mr. Pickle in the hot car and totally ruining my float down the Meramec River, she sent me this as an apology:

That’s a whole frickin’ case of Mr. Pickles. So I’m gonna forgive her.  At least until I  eat all these pickles. Then I’ll get fired up again and bitch and moan until she sends me another case. I have a feeling Imma be hooked up with pickles for quite some time.

And remember my other float trip friend? The one who only poops twice a month or something and lied to me and Skoal woman about The Goaticorns? I’m almost ready to forgive her too. Cuz she just started working as a caretaker for an elderly couple who – get this – are the freakin’ grandparents of none other than Wheat Baby Daddy’s wife! Buckle your seatbelts people. We are infiltrating the shit outta this whole thing. We now have a spy in place to get Wheat Baby photos. DNA samples. Whatever we need. And if the constipated girl can pull this off, I’ll forgive her for the whole Goaticorn hoax. Probably.

And I probably have more unimportant stuff to catch you guys up on, but after that last paragraph I stopped writing for 45 minutes so I could look at my split ends, talk to The Cat about her gas issues, and sing her a song I wrote about digestion. Then I had a long conversation with my house ghosts about proper kitchen etiquette. Since they left cabinet doors and drawers open yesterday while – I assume – trying to bake me a Thank You cake for being so awesome and trying to get them equal rights:

And I’m starting to realize that those of you who are not on my FB page are probably very confused right now. And that’s to be expected, and nothing to feel bad about. At all. You just miss a lot. Probably cuz you’re lame-asses who are not on my FB page. 

But anyways my point was that in the last 45 minutes I have totally lost focus on writing this blog which totally means that I need to go to bed.  And this isn’t really much of an ending but I am mega-tired and confused. Maybe one of my house ghosts glamored me like the vampires on True Blood do. Either that or The Cat’s farts have poisoned me. Both are pretty damn possible.

I told you this was gonna be random.

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3 Responses to “This post is randomer than normal because I’ve been a lazy wanker and haven’t posted in a week and just have to catch you up on a bunch of stuff that is in no way connected. I wouldn’t even read it if I were you. And I know randomer isn’t a word. That’s why I used it, yo.”

  1. Brandy McMillan Said:

    Patti Overnards, I think we may be sisters. Or at least former black men. Or some kind of witch/coven relative, maybe? The point is, I love your blogs, even the random ones. Oh, and could you please implant my ex with a wheat baby? He deserves to suffer.

  2. Tammy L Said:

    I seriously love your blogs, and your fb page. I don’t know if it’s because it makes me laugh my ass off, or I get so confused that I feel like I’ve been on vacation… but whatever it is, I like it. I hope the queefs (get it? cat? pussy? farts????) don’t poison you.. I would be super sad.

  3. TeacherJ Said:

    Your blog and your FB page never fail to make me laugh. And you inspired me to tell everyone I knew in high school about when Paul Rudd and I were engaged to be engaged and had a love that burned hotter than the sun. I’m trying to convince the hubs to move near to you in a totally non-stalkery sort of way. Just so we could hang out and watch Life on Mars DVDs, talk about Paul Rudd, and all that kind of stuff.

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