Purple People Eaters and Battleships.

Ah. The time has come for a new blog post.

I'm sorry to my loyal readers that I have not posted in quite awhile. I've had a busy last few months including surgery but whatev. Enough with my excuses.

Todays post is about water parks. I know what you are thinking;

"Amanda, it is late november...why in the world are you thinking about water parks??"

Well...cause they are fugging disgusting. That is why.

I was listening to the radio while driving the other day and there was a commercial on for annual water park passes to a local attraction and got to thinking about all my fucked up experiences....

The earliest memory I have of a water park was probably 14 years ago. I was maybe 9 years old and went with my sisters, mother, aunt and cousins to a park on the eastern side of the state. I was standing outside the women's locker room waiting for someone when a woman came strutting out in a big purple one piece and waltzed right passed me. As a curious youngin' I remember turning to my mom and asking her 

"Why does the lady have such hairy legs?" 

My mom was horrified and told me not to stare and to look the other way.

Years later I came to the realization that that big purple people eater did not have hairy legs but she had pubic hair GROWING DOWN HER THIGHS.What the fuuuck. I'm traumatized. Every time I see a one piece my mind takes me back to that day. YUCK. Shave your shit you weirdo. Ain't no one wanna see that.

I have the same disdain for water parks as I do for public pools. The warm muggy half chemical half body odor smell that floods your nostrils when you walk into the building. The damp fungus covered floors, the weird yellow lighting. Eww, gives me shivers. Sick. 

About 3 years after the pube experience I was in the midst of middle school when it was time for my mother to sign that life changing  paper

"EMS PHYSICAL EDUCATION SWIM PROGRAM"

A part of me wanted to do it do. What 12 year old did't want to go swim in the middle of their school day?! But then a little part of me didn't. What 12 year old girl wants to change into a bathing suit in front of her classmates??  Not me! 

But the day finally came. We of course got the speech from our teachers "Don't do this, don't do that, blah blah blah...Oh and no one is allowed  to change in the toilet stalls, you must change quickly and quietly and line up outside the locker room as soon as possible"

Crap. There goes my game plan.

As I walked into the ladies room in my minnie mouse flip flops I turned the corner and saw what was left of "Senior Swim" aka Grannies butt fuckin' naked. 

There was a traffic jam of preteen girls at the entrance all standing in shock of what they were witnessing.

Grandma showering, Grandma brushing her hair naked, grandma sitting down, BARE ass on the public bench, grandma LEANING DOWN.

We finally got shooed completely into the locker room and were told to change immediately. I wrapped myself awkwardly in a towel and one arm changed into my tankini and tried to look down at the floor the entire time to avoid seeing what I had walked into so innocently.

The next year I went to Palm Springs for Spring Break with my dad and sisters. One of the days we decided to go on adventure and we ended up at a local water park. We all split up at some point during the day. I went down a few slides. Took a trip down the "lazy river" then climbed a few flights of outdoor stairs. When I came to the top I realized this isn't just a simple slide. NO. This was the mother of all speed slides. "Crap, crap, crap, crap, crap. I can't turn around now! I'm already in line!" I was panicked and stuck. Turn around now and climb BACK DOWN all those stairs with people staring at me KNOWING I pussed out. No. F that. By this time I was the next in line. The cute older lifeguard kid was helping the sliders take their places at the top of the death shoot. I looked out over the rest of the park and then down the slide. Sat down in the rushing water and let him give me a starting shove. 

At this point in time I was maybe 70 pounds. I zipped down the slide like a dart, barely touching the plastic beneath me. When I finally stopped at the bottom, I sat up wiped the hair out of my face,stood up picked my bathing suit out of my ass, went to the bathroom and gagged. It was that day I realized: I'm really afraid of heights. 

One time I got a used band aid stuck to my foot in a locker room. Fuck that.

And finally. My last experience. The last straw, the final nail in the coffin, the straw that broke the camels back.

My 14th birthday. My twin sister and I decided we wanted to go to our local park and party like big bad 14 year olds. We each got to pick a friend to come with us. That morning we woke up to a drizzly 60 something June, Northwest day. That did't stop us though. We geared up and hopped in the car and rocked out to our new "Destiny's Child" CD the whole way there.

We of course we went on every slide and roller coaster about 18 times and ended up at the wave pool. It was so much fun. Bouncing like booies, hanging off inter tubes, waiting for the big waves to come so we could shriek like banshees.

I remember it all too clearly, like it was yesterday. I was treading water looking around and as if it was slow motion I saw it coming for me. Slowly, like a WWII battle ship. I tried. I really did. I tried so hard to swim away from it but it was too late. It hit me. A big, fat, fucking turd. Right in the shoulder, like a bullet. I screamed like hell and swam like a Bitch in "JAWS". This of course spread panic through the pool and it was an all out shit storm (pun not intended). I finally found my Mother and cried that I wanted to go home. Who the fuck would't want to go home? A TURD JUST BUMPED ME IN THE WAVE POOL.

And that my friends is why I HATE water parks. 

I hope you enjoyed todays post. If you did, share it! Feel free to share my link. I love all positive feed back. I no longer have a Facebook page but if you have any blog topic suggestions email me or comment on my blog :)

Love to all.

<3 Amanda

The Adventures of Ben and Amanda.

So, for the past 3 years I have been living with my father. It was a little scary at first, I can barely remember living with him when I was younger. But I figured "what the hell" lets wing it.

But as of recently my father has changed his career (for the better) and has decided to fly the coop and move into a big boy home...with out me. So, this post is dedicated to our adventures.

It took us a little while to get used to living with each other, figuring out each others habits, cleanliness and my coming to terms with the fact that my Dad is a big stinky, eating, mess makin', tee shirt wearing, Jersey Shore watching',funny,loving, kinda dude.

I remember right after I moved in I was cranky about something and snapping at my Dad about whatever he was trying to tell me and you know what he said to me?

" Um, do you need me to go to the store and get you some of those tubey things??"

"NO DAD, I DON'T NEED YOU TO GO GET ME TAMPONS"

That was the last time he ever asked me that question.

Eventually Christmas rolled around he gave me his credit card and said "Go get us a tree, Toughie"

(Thats his nickname for me)

So. I did. I went and got the biggest tree I could find, asked a kid to help me strap it on the top of my little Kia and boogied home. When I pulled into the drive way his jaw dropped and asked me if I was crazy. We got it down off the top of my car and lugged it over to the front porch, we then noticed the stump of course was WAY to big for a teeny Wal-Mart tree stand and we'd have to saw a big portion off. 2 hours later we had a jagged excuse for a tree stump,me covered in pine needles and my Dad sweating and staring. When we propped it up in the stand, it of course didn't fit, was crooked and got stuck. So what does my frustrated,un-athletic Father do? Back up 10 feet and run as fast as he can and tackle the tree to the ground. We finally got the sad excuse for our used-to-be fluffy tree in the house and enjoyed our first Christmas as room mates. 

After New Years our tree was as dead and as flammable as a douglas fir could get and since we live in such a strict housing community we could't just prop it up against or garbage cans. After a mini 3 minute brain storming session we decided we'd dress in black, wait for the sun to go down and sneak down to the rivers edge and leave the tree on the banks and have the landscapers take care of it. Obviously no one was around to tell us 

1. This is probably illegal

2. This is really, really stupid

I am 4'11 and 83 pounds and my Dad is 6'1 and a little on the husky side so we are not the dream team for any physical task. When we finally got the tree down the steep, weed covered bank we count to 3 and throw it with all our might. I  start to scramble back up the bank when I hear a subtle splash and  my Dad start swearing I turn around to see him reaching for my ankles while calf deep in the icy water. I start giggling and keep climbing and he's jumping like a dog for a treat to try to toss his chunky body up on to the shore. We got in the house we were covered in mud and weeds and I almost pissed my pants from laughing. 

One time my Dad and I were standing around chinese to go containers in the kitchen when I poked him probably to hard in the belly with a fork and he swung his arm back in self defense.
BOOM, I hit the floor with a thud. As I was dramatically whimpering he stood above me and said
"Holy shit, oh my gosh, are you ok? Did I hurt you? Oh my gosh, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I didn't expect you to be so light. I'm sorry, Amanda! Are you mad at me?"
I of course was fine and was being dramatic but 'til this day I act as if I hold it against him and he's never flinched like that again.

Later that spring I was on my way home from school when I got a phone call from my sullen sounding Dad. I repeatedly asked him whats wrong until he finally caved and confessed

"I got stuck"

He then preceded to tell me he went to leave the house that day through the garage and realized he forgot his phone inside he put his foot under the closing garage door to get it to stop and start raising. Welp. That did't quite work. It closed on his ankle and he was forced to sit down on the concrete and of course; panicked. He was flopping like a fish on land when my sweet neighbor Ms, McClearly noticed him and what does she do? Calls the fire dept. 

My father was a sprawled across the driveway waiting on the asphalt when the fire dept. arrived. Needless to say he never tried to do that again.

Shortly after that on a nice summer evening I came home to my father destroying my bathroom looking for a first aid kit. Right when I was going to ask what was wrong I noticed him bleeding from both hands, one leg, an elbow and also a cut on his head. I started yelling at him to stop moving and sit down. He then told me this story

"Well, I was sitting in the living room watching all those fisherman out in the river catching these huge salmon! So I wanted to join in. I went and grabbed one of those fishing poles in the garage and a bucket for my catches and walked out there. I caught one really quick! But then when I tried to put him in my bucket it started filling with water and he was going to swim away! So I wrestled with him and the bucket 'til I got it above water...and then I fell...and lost the fish...and my bucket...and the pole." 
I hid the rest of the fishing poles that day.

I love my father. But he's not the cleanest creature on the earth, so bless his heart the day he tried to start the dishwasher. I heard him start screaming while he was in the kitchen so I ran down the hall and skidded to a halt in the entryway. He was soaking wet on his hands and knees on trying to shove soaps suds back into the machine all while screaming
" I made a mistake! I made a mistake!"
Ya think?! You put dish SOAP in the thing not dish DETERGENT.
"HHHHHHELP! HHHHHELP"

Right when I step into the kitchen to help start mopping up I flew up in the air and landed flat on my back.
Apparently linoleum and dish soap is quite slippery
About an hour later we got the mess cleaned up and the dish washer empty and running with vinegar to  dilute the dish soap.
That was the last time Ben EVER did the dishes.

There are many more adventures of my Father and I. Maybe one day I'll share some more of them.
All in all, I love my father very much and am thankful for everything he has done for.
 <3 'Til next time
Amanda

P.S If any of my readers know my father...do NOT tell him I wrote this :)

Don't Go To A Strip Club In The Ghetto.

My best friend is getting married. So with every marriage comes the american tradition of the "Bachelor/Bachelorette Party" and were not ones to fight tradition so this past weekend we packed up our cars with junk food, short skirts, high heels, jello shots and lingerie and headed to the big city for her big night out. I'm not a big drinker so I knew I'd be the sober one so I came up with 3 VERY important rules.

NO PUKING. NO CRYING. NO FIGHTING.

But of course their are exceptions to every rule. 

If you must puke. Puke in a toilet, sink or garbage can.

If you must cry. It better be from laughing or a damn good reason other wise.

If you MUST fight. Take off your heels and earrings. Give me your phone. And you better fucking win.

And away we go.

The frugal bunch we are googled the cheapest parking garage closet to our hotel and unloaded there. It said it was " 2 blocks" from out hotel entrance. 2 blocks my ass. It was up the street, around the corner, across the street and WAY FAR up the block. As we were packing our shit up the hot crowded streets,our bottles of liquor clinking together, I could't help but notice how different it was then my safe little town. Bums here and there begging for change, people playing instruments randomly along the walk way, hippies, people screaming in other languages, taxi cabs weaving in and out of the mid day traffic. Need less to say I was out of my element  but I was excited and ready for the night to begin. 

Half way thru our trek up the side walk the bride started to get a lil huffy so I assured her we'd be there soon.I ran into the nearest store and made sure we were headed in the right direction. When we FINALLY got to our room (# 802) we were hot, sticky frizzy and hungry. We all started to get ready for dinner while of course gossiping about people we all went to high school with. Who's doing what who's dating who, who's gained what, who's doing who. 

Dinner was fun. The bride started to get tipsy which was the mission of the night. We then headed back to the room for gifts and a game. 

By the end of the game the Bride was covered in penis's, pretty drunk and a little teary.

Yes, my rule was broken but it was a legitimate reason. She cheered up and we headed out.

I of course was in charge of the brides and the maid of honors money and id's. I crammed all of my essentials into my nifty lil front pack and geared up to begin our night. As we were walking aimlessly down the streets of the city The MOH and Bride were whispering and then exclaimed 

"THE BRIDE WANTS A CAB...NOW!!!!!!" 

Holy shit, ok. I'll flag one down. Which turns out is a lot harder then it is in NYC. I damn near had to walk into the middle of the st. in my heels (which I NEVER wear) and stand there until one stopped.

Luckily 2 pulled up at the same time. There was a momentary cluster fuck as we tried to figure out who's going in with who. As I climbed in the 2nd cab I saw the MOH hand the other cab driver an address.

WAIT. WHY does he need and address. All drivers in the cities know where the bars are. 

WHERE ARE WE GOING. I turn to the bride with daggers in my eyes and nicely ask

"Where in the FUCK are we going"

She then giggled and told the driver where to go. The other girl with us immediately started hysterically laughing and I was in a panic.

NO NO NO NO NO. 

I AM NOT GOING IN A STRIP CLUB.

The bride was laughing saying how we all have never been and it be an "adventure".

Fuuuuuuuck.

It was a short drive to the "club" as we pulled up I saw all the other girls laughing and pointing. 

Now, if you don't already know this. I get awkward. I don't like to see naked people. I don't like people to close to me and I do NOT like to be touched. Sooooo, this is my worst nightmare but I hiked up my big girl panties (pun intended) and walked into the dingy doorway. As the doorman was checking our ids and stamping our wrists a bouncer (who took his job WAY to seriously) marched up to us and told us we had to turn off over sized, plastic blinking diamond rings because 

"one of the dancers had epilepsy" 

I shit my pants. I found this SO wrong but SO funny I could't help my laugh.

When we all got to the bottom of the stairs where we had to turn to be in the "showroom" I guess you'd call it, we all paused. Clearly these bitches did not think this thru but we pushed on anyway. Now i don't know about you but when i picture a strip club at a bachelorette party i picture girls laughing with feather boas having a good ol' time. In my mental picture I blocked out the dancers. Now I know why.

HOLY SHIT BALLS.

Those bitches NAKED. 

I'm not your gynecologist. Close your legs. I have those parts. I really don't need to see yours. I could barely look at the stage. I was in a teeny carpeted dungeon surrounded by creepy mother fucking perverts and 5 other girls who were horrified.Shortly after we sat down they brought us water. 

Fuuuuck you if you think I'm putting my mouth on ANYTHING in this club. 

Girls then began to come up to us and ask us if we wanted dances.

Get the fuck away from me you weirdo. One actually asked me if I liked girls. Which I guess is a legitimate question but I quickly and politely replied 

"Fuck No. I got a boyfriend" and looked away.

Wrong choice. 

Boom. 

Butt hole on the stage. 

Right there in all her glory.

Game over.

I looked at the bride who had quickly sobered up and she mouthed 

LETS GET THE FUCK OUT"

It was a mad dash towards the stairs. I yanked my skirt up and took those suckers 3 at a time. I lost my super cool flashing ring while fleeing but I scarified it to the strippers.

Have it. But don't turn it on cause one of your homegirls will wig the fuck out.

When we finally reached fresh air the Bride and MOH exclaimed how sorry they were we assured them it wasn't there fault and that it was a lesson learned. 

We learned; Don't go to a strip club in the ghetto.

We hopped in some cabs and headed to our original destination, a popular bar. When we got there the MOH went straight to the DJ booth and told him to play the Brides FAVORITE song.

The next thing we knew he was announcing her and then that familiar beat started pulsing thru the speakers. In a flash she was up on a platform pulling me up to dance with her while screaming every word. I indulged and started dancing when I felt a hand on my thigh.

Don't touch me.

I looked down and wouldt ya know, a midget.

I tried not to stare but tried even harder to get way from him. He kept his hands where they were so I simply said

" Don't fucking touch me!" I'm almost postive a bouncer heard cause the next thing I knew he was being plucked from the stage and did not return. We stayed at that bar long enough to watch the MOH and the Bride dance on the main bar, drink a couple WAY expensive drinks and get hit on by some guys. 

We then headed to the next club. By this time the Bride was wasted and was whining that her feet hurt. She attempted to take her heels off but I did a freak out about hepatitis and made her keep them on.

It was a jolly walk to the next place, everyone was congratulating the Bride and hootin' and hollerin'. But I could help but notice every bum we would pass would mumble something. 

What the fuck are you saying? But then again I probably don't wanna know what you are saying. It'll probably disturb me so I'll pretend I don't hear you and walk a little faster. 

As we are waiting to go into the club a hear a guy SCREAMING

"I don't give a fuck give me my damn credit card you ho!"

Apparently the bouncers thought he had tried to hit a girl so they kicked him out and his response was 

" why the fuck would I hit a girl. I'M GAY!"

Which makes no sense but whatev.

The club was just packed full of sweaty drunk people and we made out way upstairs to the "VIP". 

VIP my ass, they'll let annnnny mother fuckers up there. A weirdo with fairy wings on, a dude dancing with himself so I just sat back and people watched 'til the Bride slurred something about going home. So  we poured her into a cab and headed back to the hotel. 

She was fine until we hit that elevator and oh boy.

You know when your stomach kinda drops when and elevator move quick, well I SAW her stomach drop. Her face turned green and her eyes closed. 

GOD DAMN YOU FLOOR # 8!

I started punching the button frantically as if that would really help get us there faster.

She melted into one of the other girls arms and started mumbling about her fiancé and how much she 

"hated that fucking elevator" 

I quickly gave the room key to another sober girl so she could open the door for a smooth landing. 

Well I'll tell ya something. Those hotel hallways are a whole lot longer when you got a shitfaced Bride on your hands. We were all hysterically laughing as she sat in the middle of the carpeted hallways and said "Aim done" She then half crawled and was half drug to our room. 

All in all she was a trooper. At the end of the night not one drink was spilled on her white dress, her lashes were still in tact, she was wasted and we all had a crazy fucking night in the city. 

For my first REAL bachelorette party experience I would't change one thing. I had so much fun. Half the time I was expecting to be punked but it just made it that much better. 

Now excuse me I'm going to sleep until Christmas.

'Til next time Bitches.  

I Want To Punch You In The Facebook

Okay, so this post is about all the stupid shit that bugs me on Facebook.

Ya, sure we are all guilty of putting some dumb stuff on the addictive, useless site but these are the things that drive me CRAAAAZY.

"I Don't Drink"

When someone tells me "Oh, yea I don't drink" and then the next weekend I see pictures of you shiny faced, cross eyed and barefoot on my news feed. Your right you totally don't drink. Thats kool-aid in your cup. Don't worry I look like that when I'm sober too. 

"Check Out My Muscles"

Checking into a gym is totally fine. Good for you,working out is a great hobby.But it's when you post pictures of yourself in the mirror IN THE MIDDLE OF THE GYM. I can see the people behind you judging. They think your a douche, and so do I. Put the phone down and go lift something, don't take pictures of how many calories you've burned either. 

"I Hate My Boyfriend!"

No one wants to read about how pissed you are that your boyfriend blew you off. Listen to a Taylor Swift song, no one cares.

"Bowel Movements/Cramps"

Seriously? Who the fuck raised you? Don't put that shit on Facebook, you Cave Man.

"Gravity and Bitches"

Have you ever noticed that when someone takes a picture with someone significantly shorter then them they squat down to that persons level? DON'T DO THIS. I am 4'11, odds are I am shorter then an 8th grader so I know from experience this is stupid. Stand up straight you moron.

"I'm Heeerrrreeee!"

STOP CHECKING IN TO EVERYWHERE YOU GO. You're going to be kidnapped eventually.

"Ditto"

It's really weird when you copy and paste my status word for word. I'll delete you mainly cause I'm creeped the fuck out. 

"I'm Am SOOO Mad At You"

When you post something about someone making you mad and they aren't even your "friend".

"Oh my gawd, I'm so pissed I haven't gotten child support from him in 4 months"

What's wrong with you? Don't put that on Facebook! Put your smartphone down, put your kid in the car, drive to that Mother Fuckers house, knock on the door and say "Hey mother fucker, I'm pissed at you. Condoms are cheaper then diapers. Give me some kid money"

DON'T just put it on your page and think all your problems will be magically solved.

"Look At How Healthy I Am"
Ok. There is no need to tell all your 'friends" on Facebook you are going on a diet and what it entails THEN take pictures of your grocery cart of all your "healthy" buys. Eating healthy is great but I'm going to read your stupid statuses while eating whatever the fuck I want and I am not going to believe what you say, you know why? Because in 4 days someones going to tag you in a "Check In" at Red Robin. And I am damn sure Red Robin doesn't serve "protein bar and a gatorade!"

" A Day In The Life Of Me, My Friends, My Family, My Dog, My Cousins New Baby, A Moment Frozen In Time By My Canon SD 1000, A Summer Camping Trip With My New Friends, Don't Judge The Life I Live Thru Gods Eyes Were All The Same, Throooooowwww Back Time, Wedding Events, Lil Bit O' Devil In Those Angel Eyes Christmas Cheer!"

Oh. My. Friggin. Gawd. Just Put "Summer 2012 Blame It On The Alcohol" and call it good. No need to name your photo albums long, stupid shit that make no sense.

And Lastly...




"I'm A Girl. Check Out My Boobs"
I do NOT know what is going on in America for girls to think its ok to get in you bikini walk into the bathroom and start snapping pics. Yes, if you are ON A BEACH where bikinis are pretty much required,totally fine. But we all know you ain't swimming in you bath tub after you take that picture. But who's knows? Maybe this trend will catch on, I'll get the fever and start taking pictures of my non existent cleavage. Pretty sure my body resembles Justin Beibers but "YOLO" right?

Ha yea right. Put some clothes on, take your tongue ring out and get a job.

And that my friends are my Facebook pet peeves.
Now, go delete your stupid shit :)
Just kidding.

'Til next time <3 Amanda

P.S A BIG BIG BIG thank you to all my loyal readers. You guys are AMAZING. I love to hear your feed back! Feel free to share the link. Love you all "MUAAAH!"

My Bucket List

I know my posts are usually comedic stories about my life but today I am going to write about my Bucket List. You don't wanna hear about it? Suck it, I'm sure someone does. I have been writing this, re-writing, rephrasing this for about 6 years now so I am sure it'll keep changing but thats the beauty of life, isn't it?

1) Fall in love. 

This I know will not change. I fell in love with the kid sitting next to me in English senior year. We've been through hell and back which just ensures me we can make it through anything, were in it for the long haul as he says. He's pretty cute, huh? :)

2) Sky dive

3) Win something big

4) Ride a camel in the desert

5) Get a tattoo

6) Try out for a reality show

7) Catch a foul ball

8) Go to Hawaii

9) Go to the taping of a talk show/show

10) Lean to play Guitar well

11) Karaoke to a packed bar

12) Get a standing ovation

13) Go to Greece.

No I'm not greek and I hate greek food but it's beautiful.

14) Meet a Yankee

Hello Mr. Jeter

15) Ride a (mechanical) bull

16) Go backstage at a concert

17) Hang glide

18) Get Married

I die.

19) Run a race

20) Learn to Trapeze

21) Witness a human birth

Eh, maybe not.

22) Summit a mountain

23) Drive cross country

24) Own a Chinese Crested 

Everything needs love. Even these.

25) Get my degree in radio broadcasting. 

26) Buy my dream car 

As of right now the 2013 Volkswagen Beetle is my dream car. I squeal every time I see one.

27) Own a pair of Jimmy Choos.

28) Send my picture in to Maxim 

Obviously this isn't MY picture but being a woman is a beautiful thing (much better then being a dude) If ya got it, flaunt it.

29) Write a book

30) Go Sailing

I don't do deep water so this would a big deal.

31) Skinny dip

32) Go to Europe

33) Be a mom

34) Be a honey bee farmer

I love honey and am fascinated with the life a bees so, why not? 

35) Inspire someone.

I'm a pretty harsh critic of people character so it takes a lot to impress me, surprise me and inspire me. I hope one day my character, my stories and my life will inspire someone.

'Til next time <3 Amanda

Sh*t They Don't Teach You In High School

Ok, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry for not posting in a while. I have been way busy but whatever. 

So, here are real life things that they DON'T teach us in high school about REAL life...

1. You will NEVER use math with letters.

I have been graduated high school for 4 whole years now. And I have never been in a predicament where I need to use that shit. NEVER EVER. I truly believe the only occupation that you need to know it is teaching poor students that crap and in that case you are a sick individual who enjoys torturing people.

2. Your metabolism will slow WAY down.

You can not get away with eating a soft pretzel with extra cheese sauce, an Italian soda and a choco taco for lunch anymore. Your ass will get fat, your face will get fat and yes people will notice.

3. Your parents will ask you to pay rent.

To live in your childhood bedroom.

4. "Hot Guy"

That "Hot Guy" you were OBSESSED with in high school,the one you'd doodle about in your notebook, is now a huge douche. You will avoid him in public and secretly be so embarrassed you once wanted his nuts.

5. Interest, taxes and student loans.

Will kick you in the crouch and spit on your neck.

6. No one cares how many Ed Hardy tee shirts or Juicy zip ups you have.

No one.

7. People Change

One of your boyfriends will turn out to be gay. Think real hard....making sense, right?

8. Don't give your phone number to sales people.

Never give your phone number to a Mary Kay rep unless you  REALLY intend on buying some. Because they will call and call and call and call.     

And call.

9.You do not have a good sense of style.

Your first homecoming dress was ugly.

And so was your hair.

10. Don't drink that.

A Jack Daniels black cherry jello shot will make you want to kill yourself.

11. It REALLY sucks to be a woman.

You will eventually have to visit a gynecologist and when they say " I'm going to touch your ovaries now" they REALLY mean they are going TO TOUCH YOUR OVARIES. I prefer to drink a beer on an empty stomach before hand so I got a little bit of a buzz.

12. That's not real life.

If you were "lucky" enough to get something in your Senior Hall Of Fame, sweet, that's awesome...for 2 weeks, until you graduate then literally no one cares. You put "Best Walk" on a real life resume, I can GUARANTEE you you won't get the job.

13. Theres no such thing as "Kinda virgin"

Your friend tells you junior year " Well we like kinda like did it but like not really, so I'm still a virgin!" She lied. 

14. People are CRAZY.

You will NEVER hear a teacher tell they students this. Real shit. People are bat shit crazy.

And finally the MOST important.

15. Be yourself.

In high school I can honestly say I was not myself. I cared way to much what people thought of me. Everyday I am myself the more I love my life. And those people I cared about in high school can suck my big toe cause my life gets better everyday and you have nothing to do with it ;]

 I know there are way more but we will save those for another post.

'Til next time <3 Amanda.

Fat Gene Stole My Garden Gnome.

Fat Gene stole my stole my garden gnome.

So, I live in a really,really strict housing development. We have ridiculous rules such as; 

1. You can not park in your driveway for over 12 hours at a time, you have to park either in your garage or out on the street.

This is impossible because my father stores a restaurants worth of equipment in our garage. So I have received two citations for parking over night in my own drive way because of a specific neighbor calling.

2. You can not have a satellite dish anywhere on your home.

When we tried to have one installed one of the board members chased away the cute worker and we now have a hole in our roof.

3. If your yard is not fenced you are not allowed to do you own yard work. And when landscapers come you are NOT allowed to talk to them.

My 12 foot sunflowers died because I 'm not allowed to plant them in real dirt. I cried.

4. Only tasteful yard decor is allowed.

This is where it gets real.

I love garden gnomes. I think they are adorable so, I put one on my back porch, over looking the bike path and the river. 

One day I was walking thru my living room and looked out and realized my little man was gone. I ran out onto the porch and looked around for him. He was gone. I then waved down my next door neighbor 

Mrs. McCleary. Our houses are so close together you can touch either at the same time and she's always outside on her patio so I was sure she had seen something.

"Mrs. McCleary, have you seen my gnome?"

"Oh sweet girl, Gene steals them"

"Excuse me?"

"Gene across the cul de sac, she's steals yard ornaments she doesn't like. It was either her or that little old couple that walk the path everyday"

"WHAT?"

"I'm sorry, they've stolen a couple of my bird feeders.

Game over.

I walk in and scream for my Dad. He then tells me he knows and that Gene is a nark and she's the reason we've gotten in trouble for breaking all the rules we have.

I have always been a nice neighbor. One time when I thought Gene was dead I creeped over there and listened to see if I heard any movement. Her garbage can had been on the curb for like 2 weeks and I hadn't seen her waddle out to get the mail. I was just trying to help a sister out. Once I heard the microwave "ding" and her dogs bark I knew she was still alive and eating so I scampered back home.

SO WHAT THE FUCK.

Now, I'm not judgmental. I'm a nice girl but once you cross me the gloves are off. And since I'm not a physical threat to anything, I fight dirty.

The next time I saw Gene I asked her if she had seen my gnome. She said "Yes and it is ugly" when I told her I wanted it back she said she did't have it and that it was against the rules to have it anyway. 

You wanna know whats against the rules?! Having more shih tzus then a puppy mill in your house,fatty.

Also, who are you to judge? When I checked to see if your fat ass was dead I saw one of those weird, big ass colored balls in your yard, seriously what the fuck are those even for? Those exist NO WHERE in nature. You are just drawing attention to the fact your fenced back yard look like fuckin' Narnia and you get away with it cause IT'S FENCED.

I am still plotting my revenge against Fat Gene so in the mean time I just wait for one day when that door is left open and all those ugly bug eyed dogs get out and the housing board realizes, their own neighborhood nark is breaking the 

Only one dog per house hold 

rule.

Bitch.

Until I am confident with my gnomes safety they stay inside, with me. Where no old couples or fat waddlers can take them. 

'Til next time <3

Amanda

You Make Me Wanna Drink More

In the spirit of Friday night in America I figured I'd tell all you guys about my first bar experience.

 It was a warm August night in the Northwest and everyone was out on the town ready to have a good time. Ya know, drink to much, make some bad decisions, wake up asking "Duuuude what happened last night?"

 
So, I said what the hell, I'll join.

I threw on my new super cute cream Forever 21 tank top and headed out.

The second I walked into the joint I started towards my sister and friends who were standing by the bar but then....

SHE happened.

We all have them. Those clingers who insist that were "beeeeeeeessssttttiiiiieeeesssss!" But really, no. I don't know, I barely like you and your annoying as hell.

 She saw me walk in and it was like a moth to a friggin' flame. She ran through the pods of people and threw her arms embarassingly around me screaming "OH MY GAWD, AMANDA!!!!"

shit.

I'm trapped. I look over her shoulder while shes yammering on and on about her latest drama away at college at my sister, whos laughing KNOWING that I'm fucked.

 I slowly make me way over to the bar with her clinging my side still talking, order my drink and a shot and drink both quickly.

 "Ohhhh yummy Vodka cranberries! I drink those when I'm on a diet!" She screams

Yea, cause that makes perfect sense.

 I'm trapped for another 30 mins or so. Where ever I go,shes goes. I even try to escape to the bathroom but that was an epic failure.

 "I gotta pee! I'll catch up with ya later,k?! And as I try to boogie away she squeals "Oh my gawd girlfran I DO TOO! I'll go with you!

fuck.

  Not only does she come into the bathroom she squeezes her freshman 15 ass in to the TINY stall with me. STILL talking.

   "Girlfran, I just wanna apologize for making out with your ex boyfriend at that party senior year, ya know I was like totally wasted and did't really even know what I was like doing, ya know? OH MY GAWD! Your panties are like SO CUTE! Did you get them at Vickies Secret?!"

 "Umm probably" I say quickly trying to end this awkward cramped situation.

 As we make our way out of the bathroom "Get Low" starts beating through the ridiclously loud speakers.

"THIS IS MY FAV SONG!!!!! LETS DANCE!!!!"  she screams. Before I have anytime to object she dragging my body into the throngs of drunk white girls who are gettin' way to into it. As I'm adapting to the hot,sweaty dance floor trying to find a route out I feel a body thrusting againest my leg. I look over and find the kid who sat next to me in sophomore Biology. Well, not a kid anymore I guess and clearly drunk as shit. He slurs in my face while spitting beer

 "Girrrrllll, you looook finne asss hellll" Spit.

  "What? Who are you Why are you talking like this? Your religious. You date wore sleeves to prom"

I'm trying my hardest to get away from him while he humps my leg still talking like Snoop Dogg and Clinger is behind doing some sort of retarded Jersey Turn Pike dance move.

Right then I see a itty bitty hole just big enough for me to squeeze thru to sweet freedom,

Drunky Mcbananapeels takes a tumble.

Actually thats a lie. She eats shit.

And you know what that dumb bitch thinks as she going down?

"I'm going to grab this 4'11, 83 pound girl by the pony tail and thats going to make me stand upright again"

BITCH, do they not teach GRAVITY at college? Shit don't work like that.

Needless to say, she takes me down. Flat out on my back with my drink allllllllllll over me. I scramble my way up off the sticky STD covered floor and turn to take off for the bathroom. I leap over her as she's flopping like a fish on the floor

When I finally get to the bathroom and look in the mirror I realize there is no hope. I'm a light pink sticky mess. I call my ride and go home.

So. That is my story. Yes, not all bar experiences are like this one but I learned a few lessons while there.

1. Drink more. It makes things easier.

2. The boy who sat next you sophomore near will turn into a pervert.

and 3. You owe me a tank top...Bitch.

Til next time <3 Amanda

Bitch. Lemme Fix Your Hair.

I wish it was socially acceptable to say to someone 

"Bitch, lemme fix your hair"

Ya, I can say this to my closest girlfriends and sisters but I can't say this to the lady standing in front of me at the Wal Mart with a mullet. 

As a licensed cosmetologist I notice these things and I want to help you but I can't help the unwilling.  

RULE 1

Bangs back to your ears is a mullet. I don't care how to try to style it, it's a mullet. and you need to 

STOP IT NOW.

RULE 2

Black box dye is the devil. 

RULE 3

When the first inch or so of your hair is an orangey/red color. That is called "hot roots" and it's ugly as sin. That's what happens when you color your hair out of a box. Again, STOP IT NOW.

RULE 4

Unless you are 50+ don't get a perm. Taylor Swifts hair is not natural. It's a curling iron. Done by a professional that takes HOURS to do it. And gets paid bank. You sit down in my chair with a picture of T.Swift, just leave, get out. 

And those are my top 4 rules of hair care and I hope they were informative. 

Now go be beautiful.

'Til next time <3 Amanda

First time blog.

The one and only time I ever visited a psychic the only thing I believed was when she said 

 "Your going to write a book one day" well here goes nothing.

  I figured I'd start with a blog since nowadays most people do most their reading online and see where it goes from there.

  I am from a pretty small town as most you reading this probably already know and being from such a small community comes with some pretty crazy situations. Atleast the ones I usually find myself in. i feel as though i can't go a week without something abnormal happening in my life. 

 Weather it be fighting with my fat neighbor, helping my dad tackle a christmas tree, saving baby ducks after their mother was murdered on a bike path or having my eyebrows waxed off by a punk rock white bitch in a downtown salon. 

 So. Buckle up and be prepared for my crazy life. Fair warning. I am wildly inappropriate and swear like a little sailor. I don't mean to offend anyone through this but if you don't like it, don't read it ;) 

                                                          'Til next time <3 Amanda