Wednesday, June 26, 2013
Jenky Teeth to the Rescue
I’m baaaaaaaaaaaack.
What can I say? I can’t resist the urge to drop excessive amounts of f-bombs (that’s FUCK for those of you keeping score) and flag the adult content of this blog to the extreme. Plus, who am I to deny my faithful fans?
I figured I would bring this badboy back once I got knocked up again and had Fetus II, or Bun The Sequel, to blog about. We’re not quite there yet, but I’m sure I can provide some entertainment before I get all crazy hormonal again. So, here goes nothin…
Why is it that nearly every time I arrive at the gym I have to shit? I literally pull into the parking lot and my large intestine is done cookin. This may not seem like a problem, except that I can’t shit in public restrooms. I’m convinced that this is my lazy, fat ass’s way of keeping me from burning calories because inevitably, I am going to decide that I absolutely can’t run with a turtle head, or that my stride will be so awkward that everyone will know I’m trying to hold in a huge shit. Tonight I toughed it out for 27 very long minutes (not exceeding 6 mph, I tried 6.5….it was a NO GO). I would have gone longer except that the daycare came to get me to report an injury. I did not waste any time getting off that treadmill. Not so much out of concern for my offspring, but more so because I literally could. Not. Go. On.
I get to the daycare to find my sad looking child with a puffy, bloody lip. What happened, you ask? My brilliant two and a half year old tried to bite into a plastic bagel and busted his lip with his jenky teeth. And he has the nerve to yell “RUN, MAMA!” when we get outside. Not happening, kid. God bless your jenky teeth.
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
Ball-dropping
Dear Bun-
Happy testicle dropping week! That’s right, while you may have decided to “grow a pair” awhile back, they weren’t much to speak about. Now, the balls have officially dropped and the key is keeping them at a reasonable size. I’ve heard stories about babies with elephantitis of the balls (you Prairie kids know exactly who I’m talking about!) and I would hate for you to have that anomaly.
Speaking of swollen body parts, I see that you’ve moved on from cankles to the sausage fingers. I’m just gonna say that it would be in your best interest to direct the fluids elsewhere. If you keep it up, people will go back to thinking you’re a bastard child because I can’t wear my damn rings. This isn’t an episode of “Sixteen and Pregnant” and I sure didn’t shotgun a wedding for nothing, so I’d appreciate some discretion in the fluid department.
I know you’re probably thinking that I’ve had a lot of demands in your short time as a fetus and this is probably true, but let’s try to keep this in perspective. In two months you’ll be all: “I want food!” or “Wipe my ass!” Let’s just that say my reaction time to “Wipe my ass” is directly related to your adherence to my demands. I realize that this is an uphill battle for you (especially in the boob department) so I suggest you use the next two months wisely.
Good talk, see you out there…
Happy testicle dropping week! That’s right, while you may have decided to “grow a pair” awhile back, they weren’t much to speak about. Now, the balls have officially dropped and the key is keeping them at a reasonable size. I’ve heard stories about babies with elephantitis of the balls (you Prairie kids know exactly who I’m talking about!) and I would hate for you to have that anomaly.
Speaking of swollen body parts, I see that you’ve moved on from cankles to the sausage fingers. I’m just gonna say that it would be in your best interest to direct the fluids elsewhere. If you keep it up, people will go back to thinking you’re a bastard child because I can’t wear my damn rings. This isn’t an episode of “Sixteen and Pregnant” and I sure didn’t shotgun a wedding for nothing, so I’d appreciate some discretion in the fluid department.
I know you’re probably thinking that I’ve had a lot of demands in your short time as a fetus and this is probably true, but let’s try to keep this in perspective. In two months you’ll be all: “I want food!” or “Wipe my ass!” Let’s just that say my reaction time to “Wipe my ass” is directly related to your adherence to my demands. I realize that this is an uphill battle for you (especially in the boob department) so I suggest you use the next two months wisely.
Good talk, see you out there…
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
We're back
Dear Bun-
Did you miss me? It’s been awhile, I know. Let’s catch up.
Is this what you wanted? A fat mom? Granted, I’m mostly fat in my bra, but what’s with the cankles, kid? I can’t think of anything less attractive than these monstrous, pasty-white cankles. I’m putting up “Missing” posters for my talocrural joint. Don’t know what that is? Google it, friend. That’s right, it’s the round bone that should be visible on any normal person’s ankle. Apparently my cankles swallowed them. And I’m not wearing those god damn old people stockings either, so don’t even think about popping a varicose vein. We’ll see who’s laughing when you’re busy drinking up and turning into Buddha Baby and I’m burning all the calories!
I would also like to address your “schedule.” Is it really necessary for your sad Billy Blanks impression to begin every night just as I’m about to sleep? And while we’re on your nightly activities, could you please try not to encourage your dad? He really thinks you’re giving him a “high-five” every time you kick him.
We’ve got another three months of this situation, so let’s finish strong. Before you know it, you’ll be drinking ketel one straight out of the boob. I’m kidding! There will be diet coke in there too.
See you in three!
Did you miss me? It’s been awhile, I know. Let’s catch up.
Is this what you wanted? A fat mom? Granted, I’m mostly fat in my bra, but what’s with the cankles, kid? I can’t think of anything less attractive than these monstrous, pasty-white cankles. I’m putting up “Missing” posters for my talocrural joint. Don’t know what that is? Google it, friend. That’s right, it’s the round bone that should be visible on any normal person’s ankle. Apparently my cankles swallowed them. And I’m not wearing those god damn old people stockings either, so don’t even think about popping a varicose vein. We’ll see who’s laughing when you’re busy drinking up and turning into Buddha Baby and I’m burning all the calories!
I would also like to address your “schedule.” Is it really necessary for your sad Billy Blanks impression to begin every night just as I’m about to sleep? And while we’re on your nightly activities, could you please try not to encourage your dad? He really thinks you’re giving him a “high-five” every time you kick him.
We’ve got another three months of this situation, so let’s finish strong. Before you know it, you’ll be drinking ketel one straight out of the boob. I’m kidding! There will be diet coke in there too.
See you in three!
Thursday, July 29, 2010
Hotdog in the Bun
Well, well, well…look who decided to grow a pair.
Of course, they haven’t descended yet and they are chillin in your abdomen, but you’ve got balls, alright! It’s hard to believe I’ve got a little dude in there, especially what with all of the ridiculous men hitting on me on National Avenue. Topping the charts right now is this fine gentleman:
“Hey girl…oh SHIT, you pregnant!!!”
Yes, good sir. I am with child.
These guys are really enjoying the extra weight you’ve packed on for me. Twelve pounds, to be exact. Come December, I expect you to latch on to these boobs and get to calorie burning. It’s the least you can do, Bun.
Of course, they haven’t descended yet and they are chillin in your abdomen, but you’ve got balls, alright! It’s hard to believe I’ve got a little dude in there, especially what with all of the ridiculous men hitting on me on National Avenue. Topping the charts right now is this fine gentleman:
“Hey girl…oh SHIT, you pregnant!!!”
Yes, good sir. I am with child.
These guys are really enjoying the extra weight you’ve packed on for me. Twelve pounds, to be exact. Come December, I expect you to latch on to these boobs and get to calorie burning. It’s the least you can do, Bun.
Monday, June 28, 2010
Non-bastard
Hey lil Bun,
Lucky you, in just a few days you won’t be a bastard fetus anymore. That’s right, Daddy and I succumbed to the pressure and we’re about to shotgun a wedding. I always envisioned myself skinny and drunk on this fantastic day and you’ve got me pregnant and sober. I’m sure you’ll enjoy the one glass of champagne I’ll be allowed. Oh, and if you could shoot for discretion on Friday and not make my uterus pop out so much in my dress, that would be awesome. I was going to try and help the cause by holding out on ice cream and burgers this week, but then I passed by Culver’s on my lunch break. Whoops. I seriously don’t think I’ve fed you more than 3 servings of vegetables throughout this pregnancy…but we’ve got 2 more trimesters to go, so I’m confident we’ll get the whole pyramid in there somehow.
The lack of nutrients obviously isn’t stunting your growth at all, at least not in your head. We got a little sneak peek of you last week and DANG! your head is huuuuuge. I know your body will catch up, but right now it just floats around following that big ol’ head of yours. One more month til we get to see you again, and I really need you to spread eagle for the camera…we want a clean shot of what you’ve got goin on down there!
Lucky you, in just a few days you won’t be a bastard fetus anymore. That’s right, Daddy and I succumbed to the pressure and we’re about to shotgun a wedding. I always envisioned myself skinny and drunk on this fantastic day and you’ve got me pregnant and sober. I’m sure you’ll enjoy the one glass of champagne I’ll be allowed. Oh, and if you could shoot for discretion on Friday and not make my uterus pop out so much in my dress, that would be awesome. I was going to try and help the cause by holding out on ice cream and burgers this week, but then I passed by Culver’s on my lunch break. Whoops. I seriously don’t think I’ve fed you more than 3 servings of vegetables throughout this pregnancy…but we’ve got 2 more trimesters to go, so I’m confident we’ll get the whole pyramid in there somehow.
The lack of nutrients obviously isn’t stunting your growth at all, at least not in your head. We got a little sneak peek of you last week and DANG! your head is huuuuuge. I know your body will catch up, but right now it just floats around following that big ol’ head of yours. One more month til we get to see you again, and I really need you to spread eagle for the camera…we want a clean shot of what you’ve got goin on down there!
Friday, June 11, 2010
Cletus
Dear Bun,
Thanks for that. You know exactly what I’m talking about. The crying at work. Not cool. And over one of your potential names, really? We don’t even know if you’ve got a hamburger or a hot dog yet and you made me cry at work today because some other knocked up bitch stole your name. This might even trump my more recent emotional melt down over not having friends anymore. It almost makes me want to start calling you Fetus again, or even Cletus the Fetus.
Let’s review. Courtesy of Cletus the Fetus I am now: sober and boring, fat and lazy, I’ve acquired super nostrils and I can’t even eat a fucking cold sandwich. But, I think you and I can work this out, so I’ve come up with a few ways that you can make it up to me:
1. Be a super cute baby. Everyone says I’m going to think you’re cute no matter what, but I think most infants look like little aliens. You might be famous in the blog, but don’t think I’m going to be posting pictures of an ugly kid. I know we’ve still got some prime facial development time so, make it count.
2. Don’t cry a lot. I know that if “karma” exists you’ll probably be a non-stop crying, little alien baby, but I can only hope for the best
3. Be funny. I’ve told a number of people that I’m going to punish you if you make jokes that aren’t funny, and I mean it. So, I’m telling you now that you can avoid a lot of timeouts if you just bring the laughs.
OK then, it’s settled.
By the way, did you enjoy that dream I had the other night? Yea, the one where I was doing tons of shots. Those are like sex dreams to me these days. Clearly the non-alcoholic beer isn’t really doing the trick for so I might start doing some research on non-alcoholic vodka. I’ll keep you posted on that one.
Keep the game tight, Bun.
Thanks for that. You know exactly what I’m talking about. The crying at work. Not cool. And over one of your potential names, really? We don’t even know if you’ve got a hamburger or a hot dog yet and you made me cry at work today because some other knocked up bitch stole your name. This might even trump my more recent emotional melt down over not having friends anymore. It almost makes me want to start calling you Fetus again, or even Cletus the Fetus.
Let’s review. Courtesy of Cletus the Fetus I am now: sober and boring, fat and lazy, I’ve acquired super nostrils and I can’t even eat a fucking cold sandwich. But, I think you and I can work this out, so I’ve come up with a few ways that you can make it up to me:
1. Be a super cute baby. Everyone says I’m going to think you’re cute no matter what, but I think most infants look like little aliens. You might be famous in the blog, but don’t think I’m going to be posting pictures of an ugly kid. I know we’ve still got some prime facial development time so, make it count.
2. Don’t cry a lot. I know that if “karma” exists you’ll probably be a non-stop crying, little alien baby, but I can only hope for the best
3. Be funny. I’ve told a number of people that I’m going to punish you if you make jokes that aren’t funny, and I mean it. So, I’m telling you now that you can avoid a lot of timeouts if you just bring the laughs.
OK then, it’s settled.
By the way, did you enjoy that dream I had the other night? Yea, the one where I was doing tons of shots. Those are like sex dreams to me these days. Clearly the non-alcoholic beer isn’t really doing the trick for so I might start doing some research on non-alcoholic vodka. I’ll keep you posted on that one.
Keep the game tight, Bun.
Friday, May 28, 2010
Shrinking Fetus
Dear Bun,
Got to see your shadowy ass again this week…good to know your heart is still flickering away in there. I hate to do this to you, but I have to update your due date to December 28th, which means you’re going back in time on floating fetus model. Kind of a bummer because the littler you are, the creepier looking you are, also a bummer because even though we’ve past Jesus’ birthday, I’ll be damned if you’re born in 2011. Let’s keep it to 2010, Bun…I need those tax dollars and I’ll need a drink to ring in the New Year!
Met the lady that’s gonna pull you out of my va-jay this week, too. Exciting shit! Your dad was there, which was awesome when I was spread-eagle in the stirrups getting assaulted by the first person that will ever lay hands on you. She was mostly just interested in talking about how I have a male-ego. Good news is, we’re clear on the Syphilis test…I know you were anxious about the update there!
Got to see your shadowy ass again this week…good to know your heart is still flickering away in there. I hate to do this to you, but I have to update your due date to December 28th, which means you’re going back in time on floating fetus model. Kind of a bummer because the littler you are, the creepier looking you are, also a bummer because even though we’ve past Jesus’ birthday, I’ll be damned if you’re born in 2011. Let’s keep it to 2010, Bun…I need those tax dollars and I’ll need a drink to ring in the New Year!
Met the lady that’s gonna pull you out of my va-jay this week, too. Exciting shit! Your dad was there, which was awesome when I was spread-eagle in the stirrups getting assaulted by the first person that will ever lay hands on you. She was mostly just interested in talking about how I have a male-ego. Good news is, we’re clear on the Syphilis test…I know you were anxious about the update there!
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