So today I’m at my desk just workin and ish, and my Ma calls me. This is not unusual considering the second I got a ring on my finger she hasn’t let a day pass without 15 phone calls about wedding shit. So anyway I pick up the phone and she’s all “LET’S GO REDSOX!!!” All loud in my ear. I’m like oh yea, she went to the Sox/Rays game with her buddy today. “How’s the game?” I ask. “We’re fuckin losin! Do you believe that shit! And these mothafuckas with their cowbells and shit! All loud! Fuckin Big Papi!….drunken grumble….throws a Beckett in there…more grumble…IN MY FUCKIN BEEEAAAHHH”. “Ma, are you, are you drunk?” I ask trying to keep it low, as I am, afterall, at work. “Fuck yea I am. LETS GO RED SOX!!!!!”
Needless to say, while I am slaving away in my office, my Ma, all 52 years of her, is sitting in the sun surrounded by Rays fans and cowbells, praising her love for the Sox like she’s on Yawkey Way, and, sigh, drunk dialing her daughter.
Should this NOT be the other way around?!??
So last night after Neeter’s birthday dinner, we strolled into a gas station to get the Bday girl and Miss Jo some butts, cuz they’re buttheads :). Anyway, so, I buy Neeters cuz she’s foreign and it’s her bday, and Jo is in front of me. The nice man, Jim, cards us. He says to Jo “Oh, Scorpio!” and laughs and me and says “Capricorn!” and we just nod and look at each other all, “WTF” like. Whatever, so then he says, “I a pyschic”. And we all laugh. To which I proceed to prompt the obvious question, “Do you see us being awesome?”, and he laughs and says, “No!”. Then Jo says, “Do you see me falling in love and getting married?” And he says, “I see you loving many boy”. So we laugh all weirded out and proceed out the front door, heads held in shame cuz this dude just straight called us unawesome sluts and stuff.
So he proceeds out the side door to light himself a cigarette and we’re in the car, probably fighting with the Ipod, and in the front door walks a gentleman headed for some purchases.
Now tell me, Jimbo, if you were such a good fuckin pyschic, you woulda seen that mothafucka comin in your vision, would you not?
We’re just sayin….
So, I got a call from Melissa, the owner of the apt we looked at yesterday, and she said everything looks awesome, if we can bring the deposit by tomorrow it’s ours! I can’t even begin to tell you how excited I am. Not that I don’t love our condo, it will always remain in my heart as the place where we had our first kiss, our first home together, our first pet fish who we killed 24 hours later, it holds TONS of memories. Hanging out there before we began dating, hours and hours of Rockband, beer pong, darts, but that’s where it gets tricky, it’s become such a heavy burden on me. The house is a mess, we are VERY cluttered people considering we merged two lives together. I just can’t WAIT to ditch all the shit we don’t use and start fresh.And what a better time than now!
So, I’m BEYOND through the roof, things are definatley looking up for us two who seem to have the WORST luck, and have had a rocky year. 09 is good for us kids, and it’s wicked sweet.
In OTHER news, today is one Miss Anita’s birthday and we’re celebrating tonight by eating seafood and then going drinking, which I’m sure, will as usual, result in some obsene photos and someone yakking. It might be me.
Anyway so thanks for all the crossed fingers. I can’t wait to move now! Come help me pack or bring a truck and help me move. Yes of course I work for a company that does moving, but I can’t afford them thanks to my shiny new apt. Just kidding. Or, am I?
When I was ten years old, my father and I took a trip to Paris, leaving my younger brother and mother in London where she was filming a movie. My dad believed in one-on-one time with us, and sometimes that extended to a weekend away. We stayed at a great hotel and he said I could order whatever I wanted for breakfast (French fries). We went to the Pompidou museum, the Eiffel Tower and the Louvre - the usual spots. It was pretty great. On the plane back to London he asked me if I knew why we had gone, just he and I, to Paris for the weekend. I said no, but I felt so lucky for the trip. He said, “I wanted you to see Paris for the first time with a man who would always love you, no matter what.”
Soooo after 2 months of searching for THE first time I walked into an apartment and fell IN LOVE. So let’s everyone cross our fingers (even though it’s not EXACTLY what I want, it’s pretty much better than what I wanted) so that within the next two weeks Ben & Kelly (also sometimes known as “Belly”) Can move into the apartment with the prettiest view in the whole wide world. Are ya fingers crossed?!?!? Yea, I’m watchin you son.
I hate everything. Every apartment we look at isn’t good enough, please don’t even get me started on the wedding stuff. I haven’t had a diet coke in 24 hours and I could slap someone (yay diets), and speaking of diets bananas are disgusting and 8 glasses of water a day is BORRRINNGGG.
But anyway, other than that everything is well but I’m sitting here reading some other peoples blogs and I’m WTF you guys, what’s with the being mean to each other, like WTF is with this Ben dude and why on God’s green does he think he is like the Tumblr Pope. Does he run this shit? I mean really? He all made some girl Jamie something that I follow as well all shades of upset and that ain’t cool. Leave her alone. It’s a blog. It’s not yours. Chill the fuck out. Write on your blog, she’ll write on hers. End Scene.
But this whole sitch totally reminds me of this wicked mean girl I went to high school with. She would always be all talking ish about me behind my back, but since I went to this old ass school, I could hear people talking in the bathroom if I was like outside of it or whatever. Then she’d come up to me and be all “HEEEEEYYY can I copy your whatever the fuck homework”, and I’d be like “UH NO”, and trot away. I don’t tolerate hate. I don’t TOLERHATE (copy right this bitch for me if you can, yo).
Cuz here’s the deal. Being mean, it ain’t cool. Nah, it ain’t the bees knees you guys. Get with the program. Nice is in these days (UNLESS you are at a Dunkin Donuts drive though. Unleash your fury there). But for reals. Welcome to the internets. Unless someone has given you official judgemental bastard of said internets, then go forth and conquer. But I don’t see ya badge hall monitor. Just sayin.
So anyways, be nice, spread HAPPY thoughts you guys we’re in a fuckin recession! Don’t let it turn into a Depression! And the first sign of a Depression (aside from a faulty economy and not enough jobs and mumbo jumbo) is….what…..THAT’S right! Sad stuff. So stop making people sad. Use your negative energy to like, I don’t know, reblog cupcakes.
In other news: I have all my bridesmaids in order for the Nups. That’s a big deal. AND I didn’t puke on ANY of them when I asked. Even bigger! (Gotta LOVE nerves and ulcers)
H’s & K’s
So, the guy at my DnD called me “A sassy bitch”, this morning. Which I WOULD have taken as a compliment had it not be completely out of context. I order the SAME thing from the SAME Dunkin fuckin Donuts every damn morning, and they always do something mildly retarded that makes me want to cry for humanity and it’s stupid people. When I say, “A Large Iced Coffee with cream and sugar, and and English Muffin with butter”, and you hand me a small hot coffee, or a large soda, or an ice cream cone because you are attached to a fucking Baskin Robbins, with a blueberry muffin/donut/left over Valentine donut, and I do not accept your offerings and ask for what I ASKED for, then follow it up with, “I mean I’m here everyday do I mumble? I can talk louder” in my sweetest give you a fucking toothache sorority girl voice batting my eyelashes, MUST you call me a sassy bitch INTO THE MICROPHONE so I can hear you, because the order box is about 3 feet away. I know how alarmed you looked when I alerted you that it’s perfectly acceptable to get a GED now a days, everyone in the trailer park is doin it, and it MIGHT help you learn to listen to my simple, dumbed down order, but hunny THAT’S when you should have called me a sassy bitch. Not a cunt rag. Your boss did NOT looked pleased as he stood behind you watching this transaction. I hope you’re there in the morning, I will miss our witty banter.
When people like, delete you from their Myspace or FB friends to make a “statement”. The only statement I can see here is that you’re sitting there all “ooohhh I got you biattttttcccchhh, you can’t peep my social networking site no mo! Cuz you know you were stealin my icons and layouts and songs. You bitch!”
But what it REALLY says to me is, THANK GOD. I didn’t have the engergy to do it myself, or it didn’t cross my mind because I’m not a pathetic CHILD. What youre REALLY doing is preventing me from seeing your sad pathetic woe is me updates every twenty five fucking seconds with your gloomy faces and sad lyrics. And thank Baby J I don’t get the alerts of your pictures anymore. There’s only so much of someones tounge you should see before you have dreams of ripping it out of their mouth.
With that being said, I’m glad I don’t have the babysitters club as friends on myspace anymore, but let’s be serious. They’re really losing out on being friends with ME.
Hello world and friends and family of Kbels, it is I, um, Kbels. Anyway, sorry I’ve been so distant, because about 8 of you pointed out that I have not blogged in 24 hours and had a heart attack, but rest assure all is well in my little world. As many of you know, Ben proposed to me on Valentine’s Day, thus making us, as usual, the couple that you want to vomit on. Listen we’ve gotta pull out all the big guns ok? He’s losing his hair, we’re both getting fat, we can both drink you under the table still, I mean come on now we have to do SOMETHING to turn heads.
I kid, it was actually perfect. However, I guess it was supposed to be MORE perfect, but, we had a few hitches. Never the less, having our friends there to surprise me (and catch amazing video footage of said event!) was more than I could have asked for. I just wish that a) i wasn’t frizzed as fuck. damn beach. b) I didn’t start crying like a big fat baby and keeling over with tears and mascara everywhere, c) I could read “Will you marry me?” In the sand, because I had no idea wtf I was supposed to be looking at. But of course, in true Kelly and Ben style, things went a little amiss. This will most definatley be magnatized times 80 when we actually DO partake in our nuptials, but of course we will be having an open bar (mainly for me), so you will all be so drunk that the only thing you will remember is how cutes we both looked! And perhaps, if we’re lucky, the name of that pretty wedding guest you met at the reception. But, and I will remind you this over the next year and a half (we need some time to plan, my mother has way to many ideas and we are broke as a joke), the first person to look at my sister with even a GLIMMER of hope in their eyes perishes in a fire pit that I will have constructed outside of the venue. I will fireman carry you, in my Vera Wang (hopes!) and toss your ass in. Get it. Little sister, Maid of Honor,very young, quite attractive, NO ONE TALK TO HER.
Well, I’ll be back eventually, I don’t feel very funny ever since Rocky, Ben, and I ate our body weight in fried food at the fair yesterday. I will, as a parting gift, grace you will all we ate so you can roll your eyes and go, how is this tubby bitch gunna fit in a wedding dress. Ha! You feel like a jerk now huh? GOOD
BIG X’s and little o’s
Food Consumed at the fair (We ate Wendys BEFORE we got there and came home and ate pizza, btw):
Fried Pepsi (YUP)
Ribs, cole slaw, baked beans *I did NOT partake in any of this GTB
Some sort of meat sandwich
Fried Reeses Peanut Butter cups
Snow Cone (Ben’s five)
3 lemonades (2 different stands, Rocky’s business as trashual)
2 diet cokes
NACHOS (of course, I had to)
1 Pepsi (not fried)
and to top it ALL off
FRIED BACON COVERED IN CHOCOLATE.
You heard me. BACON. IN. CHOCOLATE. You have not LIVED as a fat person until you have tried this delcious mess. NOM.
You guys why are we so afraid of Friday the 13th? No honestly where did this blinding fear come from? I just read that it’s estimated that 800-900 MILLION is lost in business on this day. Are you KIDDING ME? WTF? What’s the story behind it? Someone friggen tell me. God, I KNEW I should have stayed in bed.
email me if you have any idea (kbutler81 at hotmail dot com)
I blame you for EVERYTHING. Legit. Everything. Do not question why, but had you not made it acceptable for small children to wear abdomen exposing clothing and have older boyfriends, little girls would all be ok and normal. This is your fault. Also in fault: Bratz Dolls, the movie “Bring It On” (Volumes 1-73), One Olsen Twin, not the other, I won’t expose which one, Britney Spears, the Show “The Secret Life of the American Teenager”, One Tree Hill (you are SO to blame), ANY FUCKING THING ON MTV, The movie Thirteen, Zack Efron, The Internets, and of course, the news.
I would like to go back to days of yor when the raciest thing on TV was Lassie cuz Timmy fell down a fucking well and everyone went bizzurk.
Quit bein a hoe, Miley. SOMEONE SET A GOOD EXAMPLE.
Anyways, I’ll talk to you soon, k?
Ok honestly, Cash Cab? I HATE when you pick up NYC yuppies who fucking know EVERYTHING. This makes me SO mad. Like tonight with the family who had the kids with all the fucking matching names, Cherokee or whatever and Charolette and Chair, Who knows but it all sounded the fucking same. And you were all doped up on what I’m sure is a combination of a couple of Zanny bars and 8 Starbucks Non Fat Mocha Lattes. Whatever you make me sick. Knowin like all this RANDOM shit that you coud have only learned from your library on the 2nd floor of your remodeled brownstone or the education you got at that Swiss Boarding School . WHATEVER. I couldn’t even tell if that kid in the back to the right was a boy or girl. Not quite emo but like WAY over cultured and one to many Broadway shows, you’re all on the boarderline of me throwing up everything I ate today onto my futon.Video bonus? ARE YOU KIDDING ME? Do you NEED more money than you already won, no, don’t ask Chalk in the back seat if she wants to take it, man up and decide for youself.
I’d really like to think your happy ass got out of the cab and gave some money to a homeless person or like, at least to a hippy playing the sintar on the street. But you probably gave it to little Chicklette cuz clearly she is your favorite.
I hate everyone equally guys. Don’t be offended.
So, today I realized I had a problem…I’m WAY to fucking nice. I just dropped 30 bucks on getting my nails done (my v-day gift to myself cuz no one loves me more than, well, me) and I look like I just fell out of my fucking trailer and I’m captain of the White Trash Softball team. I KNEW it was going to look like absolute ass but I didn’t say anything to the nice lady, cuz we’re in a recession and I know her business isn’t catching a break. She about tackled me when I walked through the door like she hadn’t seen people since 1986. Whatever. I’m way to nice and have WT nails, but SO fitting because I am after all in Florida. But if i EVER went home looking like this I legit would be shot the second I landed at Logan.
Awesome? Not so much you guys.
I’ve decided that Facebook is the devil. Why? Look to the left of your friendly social networking site. People you may know? FUCK THIS APPLICATION. These people I “may” or may not know are not necessarily people I want to be friends with. Quit fucking pressuring me. It’s not cool and I don’t like sitting there with someone I hate staring back at me. They aren’t my friends for a reason dude. Here are several options, FB, that you can use to rename this application to make it more Butsy friendly k?
-A flock of you’re stupid dumbass cheating exboyfriends that still live with their mothers.
-Group of bitches you went to college/highschool with that you only talked to because you ran in the same social circles
-People from your town you haven’t seen since you were 6
-Gaggle of random young bitches your douche ex boyfriend cheated on you with
-Friends/Fraternity Brothers of said douche ex boyfriend who used to ADORE you but since HE cheated on YOU they’ll never speak to you again. (cuz it was SO your fault biatttcchh)
That’s pretty much fucking it. Stupid facebook. Whatever, I hate you. What’s with the new like feature? I pretty much HATE everyone. There should be a “Distain” button instead. Criticism is IN right now you guys.
"Sally is going to the gym with Roro then tanning with Skeetch! Call/Text the celly telly!" Yea, if there was a button next to that that said STFU I’d hit that. Fuckin facebook.
This makes me want to punch babies “All I gotta say is______!!!!!” Like, ok FIRST of all that’s not all you had to say because you haven’t shut the fuck up in 20 minutes. Second of all, um, what is that? Is that like supposed to be the funniest thing anyone had ever said. “All I gotta say is Post It’s in Cabo with Fran Drescher!!!” Ok, we get it. Everyone has inside jokes, but COME ON NOW. Share with us. We are admist a crowd. Say, “One time me and Jack Handy here were in Cabo and we saw Fran Drescher and she was fucking wasted and covered in Post Its”. The we will ALL laugh. Not the nervous, swirling the straw in the iced down Madori Sour giggle, but the whole hearted belly laugh, cuz bitch you funny.
Ok I know I do it too, but it annoys me, mainly because I’m nosey. When we’re all sitting around and someone brings up the topic of botched nose jobs and someone goes, “All I gotta say is Catherine Harris, senior year, wild turkey!” I wanna be like who the fuck is that bitch, is this senior year of high school or college, and wild turkeys as is rabid foul running everywhere or the liquor? Was she drunk or chasing the poultry? Have you tried Wild Turkey is it any good? What the fuck does this have to do with a nose job?
You get it everyone? I am fucking nosey and I want to know your business so tell me. Oh, and if you catch me doing this don’t be all, hey well on your blog you said….EH EH EH STOP! I know. I am the face of hypocracy. At least I have the balls to admit it. And that, my friends, makes me a superhero.
It has been brought to management’s attention that some individuals throughout the company have been using foul language during the course of normal conversation with their co-workers. Due to complaints received from some employees who may be easily offended, this type of language will no longer be tolerated.
We do, however, realize the critical importance of being able to accurately express your feelings when communicating with co-workers. Therefore, a list of 18 New and Innovative ‘TRY SAYING’ phrases have been provided so that proper exchange of ideas and information can continue in an effective manner.
Number 1 TRY SAYING: I think you could use more training. INSTEAD OF: You don’t know what the fuck you’re doing.
Number 2 TRY SAYING: She’s an aggressive go-getter. INSTEAD OF: She’s a fucking bitch.
Number 3 TRY SAYING: Perhaps I can work late. INSTEAD OF: And when the fuck do you expect me to do this?
Number 4 TRY SAYING: I’m certain that isn’t feasible. INSTEAD OF: No fucking way.
Number 5 TRY SAYING: Really? INSTEAD OF: You’ve got to be shitting me!
Number 6 TRY SAYING: Perhaps you should check with… INSTEAD OF: Tell someone who gives a shit.
Number 7 TRY SAYING: I wasn’t involved in the project. INSTEAD OF: It’s not my fucking problem.
Number 8 TRY SAYING: That’s interesting. INSTEAD OF: What the fuck?
Number 9 TRY SAYING: I’m not sure this can be implemented. INSTEAD OF: This shit won’t work.
Number 10 TRY SAYING: I’ll try to schedule that. INSTEAD OF: Why the fuck didn’t you tell me sooner?
Number 11 TRY SAYING: He’s not familiar with the issues. INSTEAD OF: He’s got his head up his ass.
Number 12 TRY SAYING: Excuse me, sir? INSTEAD OF: Eat shit and die.
Number 13 TRY SAYING: So you weren’t happy with it? INSTEAD OF: Kiss my ass.
Number 14 TRY SAYING: I’m a bit overloaded at the moment. INSTEAD OF: Fuck it, I’m on salary.
Number 15 TRY SAYING: I don’t think you understand. INSTEAD OF: Shove it up your ass.
Number 16 TRY SAYING: I love a challenge. INSTEAD OF: This fucking job sucks.
Number 17 TRY SAYING: You want me to take care of that? INSTEAD OF: Who the fuck died and made you boss?
Number 18 TRY SAYING: He’s somewhat insensitive. INSTEAD OF: He’s a prick.
What’s up with like every chick taking pictures of themselves on the toilet? I have like 8 friends on Myspace where they’re on the John in their pictures. Come on now. Pull up your pants, get out of the bathroom, and if you’re gunna be shameless, take a picture in the mirror like the rest of the idiots in social networking picture taking 101. Geez. Gross. And WICKED unsanitary. I’m not taking a picture of you and you’re girlfriends doing Myley Cyrus faces and peace signs after you just documented your piss.
Sorry. Whatever. It’s early.