Welcome to "Transient Tuesdays"...I am glad that you decided to stop by! Have a seat, kick up your feet and enjoy this week's post from The Queen Martini. Martinis or Diaper Genies is a wonderfully funny blog...seriously, I very large puffy pink heart this chick! So she might be a little rough around the edges and okay she doesn't exactly come off as nice - all the time - but everyone can appreciate her drunken (and even some not-so-drunken) stories! I SERIOUSLY suggest you follow MODG here. I hope you have some popcorn popped...these are good ones!!
Lessons Learned: Battle Wounds.
Somehow I get hurt. A lot. I don’t play sports. I don’t really do much of anything other than sit at a computer for 32 hours a day. Yes in my day there are 32 hours. But I keep getting hurt. Let’s explore together how we can all learn from my scabs.
I’m staring at a battle wound on my wrist right now from a scab I keep picking. Not just any scab, like the deepest wrinkliest cracky scab from a burn no less. The best part? I don’t even remember getting it because I was so drunk. I THINK I reached into the oven to pull out some apps that I made at 2am. And by apps I mean mini frozen hot dogs . Which I’m totes ok with because of their delicious factor.
Lesson Learned: Don’t make white trash oven food when drunk.
Yesterday my foot gave birth to the tip of a toothpick. I’m not kidding. The grossest part is that I dragged it in my foot from DC 4 days earlier. I was drunk…again…and barefoot. And I danced all over a giant pile of toothpicks. It hurt but I couldn’t tell if I was just stabbed or if my foot actually sucked some pick inside of it. Well yesterday I’m like F, this still hurts. So I SQUEEZED and like the most satisfying pimple squeeze a small piece of pointy wood sloooowly birthed itself out of my foot. I taped it to a piece of paper and saved it.
Lesson Learned: Don’t bring back party utensils inside your body, across state lines.
My foot is gimp and swollen. It has been for 2 weeks. And guess what? I can’t wear heels because of it. ULTIMATE PUNISHMENT considering I am 5’2’’. I don’t know how it happened but I THINK it’s from trying on 5 inch heels that cost more than an ’84 Lebaron. So that’s some karma for you right there. This is my most depressing injury yet. But I wasn’t drunk this time. Amazing.
Lesson Learned: Match your accessory quality to your income. Undershoot if necessary but overshooting makes karma hate you.
After reading this you may think I’m 22, single and some cool party girl. This is where you are wrong. I’m 29, married and I live in the suburbs. I’m just not that smart. I also have yet to grow up. For this reason I have no babies. For this reason my blog debates if I SHOULD have a baby and exactly when.
Would you like to weigh in on my life? Visit MODG. I’ll probably insult you at some point. Be warned.