because last minute crap is my jam

i bought shitler's xmas present yesterday. i wasn't actually going to get him anything but then he called me at work (yesterday) and said he had just got done getting my xmas present and then i was under my breath muttery (i just made that word up and i really like it so i'm going to use it more frequently) with "son of a bitch" and he was like "what did you say?" and i was like "nothing.  i don't want to talk anymore.  bye."  and then i was like "damn, damn, damn what the shit am i going to get him?"  and there's pressure here people because shitler says i'm terrible at giving gifts (but the joke is on him because i'm just terrible at giving him gifts).  and since i didn't have a spare four hundred doll hairz laying around getting him a PS3 (or 4 because whatever i don't even know what the fuck is the most current gaming system) was out of the question.  so really and truly you would think i would learn from my mistakes about last minute xmas shopping because everything is picked over and there's basically nothing available (but obviously i never do).  so it was just a matter of making do with what was available.  and when i had collected the assortment of gifts in my cart i was fairly confident that all were excellent gifts.  but feedback is always nice so naturally i asked a nearby sixty year old man if he would enjoy all the items if he received them as a gift.  and he told me yes.  so if one were to follow logic - if shitler enjoys these gifts then he's basically a sixty year old man.
now be a good sixty year old man and drink that glass of straight jim beam.

no shilter, 'mo problems: when it rains it pours

real quick. shitler is still gone.  he comes back tomorrow.  THANK EVERYTHING IN THE WHOLE WIDE WORLD.   and not to go into much detail, because that's a post for another time, but i have lived in abject chaos for approximately eight-five percent of the time that shitler has been gone.
like really. like this since monday.

if that is enough to cause you to get an aneurysm then WELCOME TO THE CLUB. and then fast forward from monday to thursday morning (and i've kind of grown semi-accustomed to it - kind of) and it's 6.30 in the morning and i'm barely awake and stepping on stray building materials (like pieces of walls and also broken nails) as i make my through the gauntlet of sheets of drywall and tools and i curse (because that shit is hurtful to feet when stepped on) and then i look ahead and i curse even more.  because i saw this:

i'll give you some time to make an educated guess as to which asshole dog did it.  

you guessed mac, didn't you?

DING DING DING.

you don't get a prize because i'm broke but i'll give you a virtual high five.

i hope he enjoyed the old sour cream left in this container.

i assume he did because the container was so clean you would think i ran it through the dishwasher.

fun fact.

i made a box of salmon burgers last night.  i'd never had them before and they seemed questionable and i made all four that were in the box because i figured "hey, leftovers for lunch."  but it turned out that they were gross.  so i put them back in the box they came from and threw them in the trash.

apparently mac thought they were delicious.

delicious salmon burgers with a cardboard bun is what mac apparently enjoyed as a midnight snack.

so i cleaned it up and then made him pose by his late night dinner buffet.

when shitler gets back i'm refusing to do anything for two weeks.

I DESERVE IT.

p.s. i have never met a dog that looks so cute while being so naughty.  it vexes me.

a post where mainly i whine (sorry)

i came here today and just stared at the cursor till my eyeballs hurt. because there are totally things i want to write about but the effort to do so seems impossibly unattainable.  and really i'm just tired.  like there's a thousand things going on and really i no longer have the patience to do any of them and then it's like all hell breaks loose.
does everyone's life look something like this: xmas shopping?  not done. xmas presents i did buy?  not all wrapped. shark week?  happening right now (ladies know what i'm talking about). the house?  construction zone. the yard?  a mud pit. current status?  single dog mom. bank account?  so pathetically sad.
and okay maybe it doesn't look exactly like that but perhaps some of your life is like some of the above?  OR maybe just lie to me because misery loves company.
but really it's kind of crazy how you become so used to being part of a team. and then your fellow teammate bails on you (not really because yes it's for work) and leaves you in the dust (literal dust) and what you thought was going to be two blissful weeks of watching crap television turns out to be the exact opposite.  and really this entire post is becoming one giant whine-fest.  sorry.
maybe send me cat pictures. those always make me feel like a million bucks.
also this is my whole life.

a post about getting taught a lesson

well monday - we meet again you son of a bitch. i hope that everyone had like the best weekend ever because mine was total shit. but that's a tale for another time.
today i bring you a server story. which i think are the best because it's like you don't think people can actually be as asshole-ish as you think but then you have to wait on them and it turns out that some people are truly horrible.
so the story. it was friday night.  the restaurant was mildly busy when the manager decided to cut the floor (basic restaurant speak for going down to the closing servers and like me who is usually the last non-closing server to show up).  and typically when this happens the servers still on the floor end up with full sections and a late dinner push.  which is exactly what ended up happening.  it was nothing insanely busy but it was enough to keep you running around.
i had a table with a gentleman and his wife.  and at the beginning of service they had given me a movie ticket stub (the restaurant gives you five bucks off your meal if you go the movie theater across the street in the same day you come and eat at the restaurant) and i thanked them and put it in my pocket and went about my merry way.  suffice it to say that the man was unbearable from the get-go.  as in every time i checked on their table he went above and beyond to respond to make my questions with his obnoxious take on what my voice sounded like.  not to mention that the times i did go back to the table it was evident that he found me doing my job to be an annoying interruption of whatever lame story he was telling and couldn't possibly be bothered with me asking if he wanted another drink.  and it's exactly these people who are the kind who you can't ever win with.  my mere presence annoyed him but had i stayed away he would have been peeved that i wasn't attentive enough.
so the meal came to an end, i ran their credit card, and so very sweetly it would give you cavities told them that i hoped they had a "wonderful weekend," and then high-tailed it to the kitchen.  a few had minutes elapsed when a fellow server found me and told me that i had a table saying i had forgotten to take the five dollar discount off their bill.  and after a slew of expletives because i had forgotten and i knew which table it was i ventured out to speak with the gentleman.  i apologized profusely, told him i had completely forgot, and that i would void the transaction, take the five dollars off, and then re-run his credit card.  his response: "no.  that's ok.  i'll just take it off your tip."  and then he opened the check fold and in front of me furiously scribbled out the tip he had originally given me and wrote in the new tip.

in my head, while it was happening, i convinced myself i looked like this:

in reality i'm sure i looked like this:

the gentleman handed me back the book and i sweetly thanked him, once again, and hauled ass to the kitchen.  once i arrived back in the kitchen i couldn't stop laughing.  like at all.  the entire thing had given the kind of lolz that i couldn't control and just kept bubbling out.  i managed to get the story out to the manager and truly it felt like i had just been reprimanded by my father.  like the gentleman shorted me the five dollar discount that i had forgotten and then went above and beyond to dock my tip another three dollars.  almost as if to punish me further and perhaps teach me a lesson about forgetfulness. 

in all fairness - i had forgotten the discount and that's my bad.

but truly this gentleman was a prick.

shit happens.  restaurants get busy and things get forgotten.  but you bet your ass that i try and make up for it and go above and beyond to fix whatever mistake i made and be honest about it.

at the end of the day if that man feels way good about himself for shorting me on a tip because of a mistake i made that i offered to fix then so be it.  i'll take my ten doll hairz (that i had to tip out on to other people so really i only made eight doll hairz on that table) and i'll enjoy the taco bell it bought me and i hope, you sir, enjoy your miserable life. 

no shitler, 'mo problemz: blender wars

i forgot that i never told you guys the blender story. today we'll fix that. so once upon a time we got married. and people gave us stuff.  like nice stuff. and after people gave us said stuff shitler forbade me from using any of it in our current house. his exact words being "we're not using our nice stuff in this shitty house (p.s. the house is not shitty but shitler just badly wants to own his own house)." and i was like "whatever i don't even care." until three weeks ago when i had shakeology stuff that i wanted to try.  and after looking at all the recipes online it had become clear that i would need a blender.  and i was in luck.  because i knew just where to find one.

so i waited until shitler left for bowling that night and then lugged out the blender from a midst the mountain of presents.
and i made myself a shake.  a delicious peanut butter chocolately number that was simply divine.  and then i washed each and every piece, dried them, and put everything back in the box and left it next to the kitchen table because i knew the shakes would be a repeat offense.  fast forward to 2AM.  and being rudely awakened by shitler with a rough shake and the following words: "hey.  HEY.  did you use the blender we got as a wedding gift?"  as i blearily tried to understand what the fuck was actually happening shitler shook me again and asked the same question and when i rolled over to look at the clock and processed what was happening i was all "no shit sherlock yes i did use it.  what gave it away?"
and at this point it finally dawns on me that it's late as balls and shitler has had some cocktails and he is apparently quite miffed that i've used the blender.  so the conversation continues and shitler says "but i don't understand why you would use it.  we agreed that we weren't going to use any of the wedding gifts until we bought a house."  and i was all "i wanted to make a shake.  how do you propose i do that without a blender?"  and shitler was all whiney and went "but we were supposed to use these gifts together..."  and i was like "OMG it is 2AM.  what would you have liked me to do?
tape the box up and act like i never used it?"  and he quietly murmured "well, yeah."  and then i rolled over and barked at him to shut off the lights and go to sleep.
and the next morning i assumed that the issue was null and void.  except it wasn't. because shitler was like "we should just buy a super shitty blender for you to use and we can save the nice one for when we move."  and i was like "that's the dumbest thing i've ever heard.  you just need to relax and accept the fact that i'm using the blender."  and he was like "i don't like it."  and i was like "what don't you like about it?"  and he was all "you're going to ruin it.  you're going to run out the motor before it even gets to be in the new house."  and then every time i used he would give me the death glare from across the room and then he would come over to inspect that i cleaned it properly.  and then one time when i was cleaning it i got too close to the blade and sliced my finger.  and when he asked what i did and i told him his response was "good."  rude.   in conclusion i have two things to say: 1. shitler is super, super sensitive about blender usage. 2. since he's not home guess what i'm using and totally not putting away?
p.s. shitler - if you're reading this, like ya i love you, but it feels nice to not have to live under your blender dictatorship. p.p.s. i'm sure you probably saw this on my ginstagram but the picture is just too much derp.

no shitler, 'mo problemz: installment one (nothing exciting)

day one of "no shitler, 'mo problemz" is in the books. 'twas nothing terrible. i watched about seven straight hours of that vampire show "the originals."  and i think netflix asked me three or four times if i was still watching and i know everyone feels my pain about how junky and lazy netflix is able to make you feel but like whatever netflix if you don't knock it off i'm heading to hulu because they don't ask me that as often so bye.  
i thought about maybe finishing up wrapping the  x-mas presents but decided against that because it involved me getting off of the couch.  and also i made myself a hamburger on the george foreman grill and didn't bother to clean it off when i was done (take that shitler).  other than that there are still piles of laundry to be folded and put away.  and a sink full of dishes.  and apparently rain is deciding to be a thing.  in december.  in wisconsin.   which translates to mud.  which means the dogs track mud in the house each and every time they go outside and it's just a never-ending cycle of constantly washing their dog paws off and then washing the floors because there is mud everywhere and it's a fucking nightmare.
but really that was my day. exciting.  i know. i will say that the best thing about not having shitler around is not having to endure his constant judgement off my all-encompassing laziness.

and also i swear there will be better posts to come. i've totally been working on some.  say whaaaaaaaaat?  i know, i know.  it's unheard of around these parts.
also.  i was thinking of watching the victoria's secret fashion show tonight. like 100% to see t.swizzle but now i'm leaning towards maybe not watching it because i'll just feel like a giant over-weight lumber jack compared to all the darling beauties stomping down the runway. are you going to watch it?  should we watch it together?
also.  this picture of shitler and mac.  makes me lol.  hard. like get your paw of his thigh you super creep.

p.s. i took the trash up this morning.  now there's sauerkraut all over the top of my car.  #rude

a series: no shitler, 'mo problemz

a couple of weeks ago shitler called me at work. it was a normal conversation.  he probably called me a hoe and i probably told him to cram it. and then he informed me after two weekends of being out of town waging a war on deer that he would be leaving again.
for indiana.  for two weeks.  and i waited a beat and looked at my calendar and got like instantly annoyed.  because shitler was all "you'll probably have to do all the x-mas shopping yourself." and i was like " **INSERT EXAGGERATED HUFF HERE** - you're going to miss my work party.  who is going to squire my drunken ass about town?"  and then he was like "you're not seriously annoyed are you?"  and i was all "ya.  i am."  
because the deal is that while i'm the first to admit that i absolutely love it when he's gone, his absence still does suck a big fat one.  the last time he was gone for two weeks wasn't all that bad.  i'm still pissed i had to change that light bulb but like not as mad i was originally (also relax because yes i can change a light bulb but i just feel like i shouldn't have to because hello that's shitler's job and you can read the post i wrote about it here).  but now he'll be gone in december. and we live in wisconsin.  which means who the shit is going to keep me warm at night, and who is going to salt the treacherous hill that we live at the bottom of so that i don't slip and die, and who is going to shovel the snow when it falls, and who is going to listen to me whine about all the things i don't want to do, and who is going to bring me my inhaler and also tampons when i forget them at home, and who is going to drink with me, and who is going to suggest that we eat tacos, and who is going to drive my drunk ass home from my work party, and who is going to bring me chicken wings, and mainly WHO IS GOING TO PLAY WITH ME?
i know, i know.  first world problems. but i'm going to whine about it anyway.
so starting tomorrow and through the next like two weeks or whatever i'm going to catalog how much more difficult my life is without shitler around.  and that's not to be confused with him like how much i will miss him but more along the lines of how put out i'll be for two weeks (and don't even get me started on the lack of putting out during those two weeks because rude).  and also don't get any ideas that this will make me realize that i should be more grateful about having him around because i'm grateful.  barely.
also whatever are you looking at off in the distance, shitler?

the scale: AKA my nemesis

you know what blows the big D? working out like a maniac for entire month. and eating like half-way better than you normally do and also cuttting back on the drinking by like a lot.  and then getting on a scale and seeing that you only lost two measly fucking pounds. IN A MONTH. rude.  so impossibly rude i can't even handle it.
but the only saving grace in that entire debacle was that i remembered to measure myself before i set out on the month-long work out adventure.  and so after i stepped off the scale, and talked myself off of a ledge that included rage-eating an entire loaf of bread and taking a baseball bat to the scale a la office space, i grabbed my tape measure and was like "there better be some motherfucking inches missing or something dies."  and thankfully there were inches missing.  as in three off my waist and two off my hips and thighs.  and so part of me was relieved; that i had something to show after a month of doing things like two-thirds different than i normally do.  but with that being said it's not enough.  so come monday (the eighth) susan and i will be doing two weeks worth of no carb (or at least extremely low carb) in an effort to counteract all the nonsense.  also i think i'm going to force myself to run 150 miles by new years.  and then when i achieve that i'll like eat an entire cake or something.  just kidding.  my reward would include a never-ending build your own taco bar. #amiright
UGH.  it's just so frustrating to work SO much and have little to show for it. at least scale-wise. so what do you ladies do?  what are your favorite work outs?  favorite no carb/low carb meals? help a sister out.
also - can we get a damn huzzah for the mild botox that the blog got? she's looking trim and tight just in time for the holidays thanks to natalie! you can check out her blog here and her blog template shop here.
also this snapchat from shitler about sums up his war on deer.