For those of you…

Who have been living under a rock, I thought I’d make an announcement here...for those who might still think I write here...which I don’t.  But I am going to start a new blog...ANYway…

in case you’ve been living under a rock and haven’t heard, I’m pregnant.  Yes.  With a real human baby.  The kind that poops and cries and spits up and makes messes and noise.  No we don’t know the gender yet.  I’m not sure when we’ll know.  Sometime in the next month or so I’m guessing.

Anyway, did you want to see some pictures? 


That was baby Love’s first is the second:


Oh, Baby Love is due November 15th. 

So, for those of you who were living under that rock, you can now pick yourself up off the floor.  LMFAO.

I’ll keep y’all posted when I go and change my blog address and start up my new digs. 

Later! smile

Edit:  Uh, yeah so it has been so long since I posted on here that I can’t remember how to work my damn blog.  haha!  Click the little name.  EYM DUM.

I hate money.

The paper and metal kind.  Not the kind I get from my debit card. 

Why?  Because one of the reasons that I detest going out shopping is because inevitably, I will always be behind some douchebag who is counting out money. 


Cashier:  Your total is $56.96.

Douchebag:  *digs around in their giant suitcase sized purse* Twenty, thirty, thirty-five, forty, forty-one, forty-two, forty-three, forty-four, forty-five, forty-six, forty-seven, forty-eight, forty-nine, fifty, fifty-one, fifty two.....oh...lemme see....Twenty, twenty-five, thirty-five, forty, forty-five, forty-six, forty-seven, forty-eight, forty-nine, fifty, fifty-one, fifty-two, fifty-three, fifty-four, fifty-five, fifty-six, fifty------wait, I have change!  Five, ten, fifteen, twenty, twenty-five, thirty, thirty-five, forty, forty-five, fifty, fifty-five, sixty, sixty-five, seventy, seventy-five, eighty, eighty-five....oh...I don’t have enough...lemme just give you another dollar. 

Cashier:  From $57.00....

Douchebag:  WAIT!  Lemme give you the six cents.  One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six.

Cashier:  From $57.06.  Your change is ten cents.

Douchebag:  Can you give me two fives for this ten?  Do you have a roll of quarters?


Douchebag:  *glares at me as though I were the one being retarded*

Twenty minutes later...after Douchebag gets all her change put away.

Cashier:  Your total is $56.96.

Me:  *swipes debit card, enters pin and waits 10 seconds or less*

Cashier:  *hands me my receipt*


WHY DO THEY DO THAT?  I propose that cash be eliminated.  Just think of the savings from not having to print dollars or mint coins!  Not to mention the savings of TIME which is much more precious to me than anything else right now since I don’t seem to have much of it.  Just swipe your debit card and move the hell on.  Companies would save money too because the cashiers would be more efficient not having to count change and wait on people like Douchebag.

It is over.

My friend Lisa has lost her fight with cancer.  I mean, I knew it could probably happen...but I kept wishing and hoping that there would be a last minute miracle or something and that she would pop on to Twitter and say, “GUESS WHAT?  I’M BACK!” but I guess cancer doesn’t really work that way. 

She’s at peace now.  For that I am thankful.  She is no longer in pain.  For that I am thankful.  I’m also thankful that I knew Lisa.  I’m thankful for the time that she and I spent on her one-woman blogathon on her Rock Bitch blog one night when she and I got to know one another a lot better.  I’m thankful that she got to spend some quality time with her family before she passed.


Fuck cancer.  I hope it chokes.

Dear NHL,

Please buy some HD cameras for Canada.  It is annoying to try to watch a hockey game broadcast from Canada as it looks like I’m watching the game through a thick layer of dust.  No, it isn’t dust on my TV.  I checked.  It is almost not worth it to watch if it isn’t in HD.  I can’t clearly see anything that is happening.  Please fix this immediately.

Thank you.


Mrs. Jennifer Love

Why I shouldn’t be allowed out in public.

With the public people in the public places publicly.

Why?  Because working with “The GP” gives me tourettes.  Now, I’m not playin’ y’all.  I’m not saying that to be mean to tourettes sufferers.  And I’m not just saying that because some tourettes sufferers say curse words or inappropriate things.  No, when I’m out with these people, I have other issues.  Tics.  Things I can’t control.

Maybe I have social anxiety.  But I’m not really that way around other situations....just when I’m working.  I have work tourettes.


* I see someone walking down the aisle and I say to them, “Hi!  Are you finding everything okay?” Now y’all should know by now that I do not give two shits about whether they’re finding things okay.  It just comes out of my mouth without me even knowing until it is out.


* I’ll help a customer and be all smiley, selling, selling, smile, smile, thanks, smile, smile, have a great day, smile, smile.  Then I turn around and I feel like my head is going to explode unless I make a face that tells other around me just how much I fucking hate “The GP.”

* If someone asks me for something that I don’t really want to do or asks me to go somewhere that I don’t want to go, I curse (you KNEW cursing was going to show up eventually, right?)...I curse enough to make a sailor blush.

So you see, there is no way that I should be allowed out in public.  I never know how I’ll react to the ignorance of some people. Some people make my eye twitch.  Some people make me spontaneously smile.  And if you know a SINGLE THING about me, you’ll know that I AM NOT LIKE THAT EVER.  That both an eye twitch and a smile are, in my book, equally horrifying.  I’m pretty sure I need to be medicated.

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