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