You got to be kidding and shit...

I am a firm believer some people should be neutered and not allowed to procreate. I mean we do it to animals. Crazy vegans and PETA fans don’t eat animals or wear fur because it is cruel. People want to eat free range this and that. While I think their logic is a load of shit and I am all about killing and eating animals as it is the natural food chain and the only way the human race was able to survive and evolve. The fur kept them warm in winter and I don’t suppose I need to tell you what the meat did. Now if you want to employ this “do unto animals as you would have done unto you” B.S., then lets neuter dumbasses and protect society from anymore stupidity. Hell, I will even chance being taken over by tofu eating hippies to weed out the schmucks. I guess you are all dying to hear of an example of one of these people. Granted I could probably give you a bunch, but I have chosen a very simple one.

So, we will just call her Jane. Jane and I are riding down the road and I can barely stand the smell in the car. It is 50 degrees outside (and that is cold for my Southern blood) and I am having to ride with the window down. It smells like baby powder and stank. I can’t figure out why. (I should also tell you that she has no kids) Well for some reason we start discussing animals and Jane makes known that her dogs shit in her bathroom. No, I don’t mean like Mr. Jinx on Meet the Fockers. There is no Ripley’s Believe it or Not toilet flushing dog action going on here.

When they were puppies that is where they went and now they still go there. I inquire why she doesn’t just shut the door if that is the only place they go in the house and ween them off that. Let me also let you know, I hate people who get dogs that do not have the proper time to allocate to them. Puppies, while heart melting adorable, are a major pain in the ass. They have to have a REGULAR bathroom schedule. They must be trained. They must be beat for doing things like peeing and chewing. There will be accidents I know, but to justify training them to shit in the shower?????? Oh yeah did I mention they were jumping over the bathtub and shitting in the shower??? And that is where they shit to this day.

Now, it gets better...Jane says this used to be OK because it was cute puppy shit. Now it is not because it is nasty dog shit. Maybe I was born at night, but WTF is cute about about puppy shit???? Anyway apparently cute puppy shit could be clorox cleaned out of the tub and one can go on about their business. That is nasty. Nasty! nASSty. NASTY. Yeah I think you get it and are agreeing. I don’t know where you come from, but where I come from shit is shit. If it smells like shit, looks like shit, well by damn it must be shit. Now Jane is ready for them to quit. Suddenly I just feel like that smell is the smell of uncloroxed dog shit masked with baby powder. I want to puke. I am freezing. I am queasy. I want Jane neutered.

Ashley's Healthcare Reform

Well it is that time of year. While you men might not understand, the women will like this one. I think the one thing I have supported in the Obama administration is going longer between OBGYN appointments. Not because I think it is a good idea (it is a totally bad idea as far as I am concerned), just because going sucks. So I started thinking about doctor visits. You know, as children we got candy and stickers and bubblegum flavored medicine. We also only went to children doctors. I am thinking many of these principles should be applied to the vag doc.

I mean first, I am not looking to have kids nor do I want to sit in a room full of preggers when I go there. So there should be the baby mama section and the non baby mama section. Also, the interior decorating has to go. I was sitting in the nastiest wallpapered room with floral upholstered furniture the other day. I threw up in my mouth a little. I swear just the visual made it smell like moth balls. Put the old people and the floral arrangements with the baby mamas. If/When I decide to procreate, I will redesign the baby mama side with pedis and massage chairs and what not. I also used to really enjoy Highlights magazine in the doctor’s office as a kid. I do not want to look at parenting or knitting magazine. I will take US, People, Cosmo or any of that typical brainless crap. If you want to include something of quality, I suggest Food and Wine, Real Simple, and Help.

Granted the doctors used to talk and relate to me more as a child, but let me be clear minus getting me a nicer paper gown or having a BYOR (bring your own robe) policy, I don’t want you doing tricks to my vagina. You could warm those tools a little, but that will be all the extra attention needed down there. I don’t feel it necessary to discuss how textbook things or where my ovaries are. I don’t care. Do not make observations. (like last year, I was slightly burned after a tanning bed debacle. There was no reason for Dr. Asshead to ask me if I had been sunning on Miami Beach) You get where I am going here.....And I do not want to discuss boobs or self-exams. Give me the card and lets move on.

Now, on to the lollipops...I think they should start having “party favors” and drinks for that matter at the end of that. I feel like when you go invading south of the border, the least you could do is offer me a free vodka drink. Start handing out sex toys and drinks and I might actually want to go to the doctor. Hell maybe, Obama could even put that into his healthcare policy. More people would be into birth control and that couldn’t be that terrible for our society. I know lots of people that should not pro-create (some of them are even my friends). Plus, if they have “fun parties” at the end that gives someone a chance to earn some more money. I really respect women who decide to market dildos over cheap jewelry and soup in a pack or even tupperware. I have stimulated the economy and cut down on over-population all in one blog. Imagine what I could do in a novel!

Seriously, picture it...modern design, great reading material, non-talking doctor, adult lollipop, and vodka. I am drooling to book my appointment just thinking about it. And I almost finished this entry with out saying twat. Sorry, but the gyno always makes me think that.

Crack, I loved you at first bite

Well you know, I guess I have always kind of believed people who said they did drugs and were hooked for life to an extent. I am been now convinced. I am a believer. Sweet Jesus, I had my first little trip into 5 Guys (aka my new drug dealer). We will start with the entrance. I love the low budget look, the smell of grease, and the chaotic noise. I love how the interior decorating is nothing but a shameless art collection of glowing reviews from around the U.S. and they have their own Idaho delicious potatoes.

I order. I love all the choices (free of charge I might add) I can get on this burger. As a mayo and mustard hater, I appreciate BBQ and hot sauce offerings to the taste gods. Jalapenos never hurt either. I love watching these people work. I love seeing CRISPY FRESH FRIED bacon (I hate soggy Wendy’s bacon and BK is even worse). They are efficient and the french fry smell makes me happy. I wait as my number gets closer and they add my fries into my bag only to dump more in the bag. JACKPOT. I am in love and I haven’t even eaten one.

I am taking this order to go. I appreciate the fact there is to go ramekins that I can fill with ketchup. I love ketchup and I am lazy and do not like having to use those packs (and I think it tastes kind of gross). I practically skip out of this store and mentally celebrate the fact that I am only a mile and half from home.

Barely in the car, I have my first fry. You know the When Harry Met Sally orgasm act, well that was my french fry experience. I love french fries. I really love these french fries. Salted just right. I would wallpaper my house in french fry review too if I created these devils. Burger was equally delicious. They don’t go Jewish on any of the ingredients. Why date one guy when you can have 5 that you can easily crave and want to be around everyday?

It is all about Eve

Soooo I am having a Tim Tebow uninsprired Biblical moment and giving Genesis a shout out. It is indeed all about you Eve. In the beginning God created man and woman. Then woman fed him an apple and fucked us all in return. I resent you more and more with each year and all I have to look forward to will just get worse. Yeah that is right now I get to bleed 3-5 days a week just so I can have a kid. I got to tell you, that was one royal fuck up. (Not to mention one a year field trips to the vag doctor. You just haven’t lived until you have thrown your legs up into those things)

Apples, while yummy have got nothing on a french fry. Had you screwed my over for some delicious fried or triple chocolate thing I might forgive you. As it is, I DON’T. In fact the only reason I eat/crave fucking french fries and gain 5-7 pounds of “water weight” is probably due to a period created by an apple. So actually strike that yummy apple sentence, because I am also beginning to resent apples as I type this.

So what brings this on dare you ask? Well I am normally sane and not the crazy girl, but I really hate when hormones betray my body. It really ruins my credibility when I am tactfully getting my point across about something that I am super angry about and I start crying. WHY WHY WHY WHY!!!!!!!!! I can’t even tactfully chew Comcast out because I break down in tears. They need a come to Jesus speech much more than you and Adam needed an Apple.

Oh yeah and menopause...And all I got to say about that is I am glad I live 3 states away from my mother.

Football

Actual text message from yesterday, "I think our football aspirations for this season are going to come to fruition in basketball. All our injured star players should be back."

My Response: Fuck that. Carpe Diem. I am planning no future happiness on any Ole Miss team. I will cheer for them on game day. The end :)"

What a freaking disappointment. I am hurt by this season. Ironically, we still have a winning record and that is no small feat considering our record under Coach O the last year. There was more promise and excitement in being a Rebel before this season began. It honestly breaks my heart to watch us now. The defense is playing so hard. I want the win for the win. I want it for the team and dammit I really want it for the D. I made the mistake of watching Ole Miss football with Houston Nutt today. I felt even worse for the defense. We held Alabama to 5 field goals in the red zone. 78 damn plays and they got 22 points.

God grant me an offensive line
to accept those shitty losses
courage to realize we can still go to a bowl
and wisdom to know LSU will always smell like corndogs.

My very own football serenity prayer.

Anway I am still depressed about this. I will be roadtripping to watch them play Arkansas. Houston, we better not have a problem.

Never go swimming right after eating...

So day 2 turned out to be a scorcher and beautiful. We made it to the beach around 1. Sunscreen was used and the beer was iced, the day was indeed looking promising. I was laying on the beach and chit-chatting until the sun got the best of me and I had to wade in the water to cool off.

Let me also note now that I am not really a fan of the ocean. I prefer pools and rivers. Salt water and jellyfish just never have been up there on my list of favorite things. THE WATER WAS THE NASTIEST SHIT I HAVE EVER SEEN. In fact, as the beer started to take affect, I remember loudly announcing, "This place is nasty and I have no idea why you would choose this mess over Destin." Anyway, it was filled with algae. It felt like nasty hairy men were rubbing on your legs. It was creeping me the hell out, so I quickly became a beached whale again soaking in the sun. Of course I kept having to cool off and get back in the skanky (this word can be used so many times when discussing PCB) water. I would get out and look like I had neon green snot plastered all over me.

The waves were massive. I was in there about 3 minutes before one washed completely over me and got in my eyes and nasal cavity. (I did save the beer in a heroic effort) It hurt and it burned badly. I gave up and went back to the beach for a spinach dip snack and to get the saltwater out of my eyes. Then I moved to my super beach blanket to read and enjoy the sun and as the facebook status read, "baking in the sun one bud light lime at a time." I am enjoying my book and the sound of the waves hitting the shore and not my face when along comes peer pressure. "Come on Ash, we are sitting on the bank. Come talk to us." Of course I give in and the beer consumption truly begins. We were sitting on the beach and suddenly before I know it, we are back in the angry bashing saltwater.

Beers start coming rapidly as Frank goes back to shore for more. Of course, mostly I was using mine to wash the fucking water out of my mouth that the ocean kept putting in there. Lime really takes the edge of the salt. Somehow we start talking about midgets which temporarily distracts me from the waves. I am obsessed with midgets. In fact, Chelsea Handler is my hero because she has her own personal "nugget". Well Kay for some reason ask me if I have ever seen a midget porn. Me, "THEY MAKE MIDGET PORN????" He says not just midget porn, but gay midget porn. I decide immediately I could never watch gay midget porn because it would ruin sex for me for the rest of my life, but I do have some questions. Just basic stuff like, is like a tripod really or tiny and proportional to the rest of them? (or in Shana's words "cocktail wiener or summer sausage") Isn't that like watching kids get it on? Have you ever hooked up with a midget? Was it awkward looking when they were getting the horizontal polka on with an average person? DON'T ACT LIKE YOU ARE READING THIS AND NOT WONDERING WHAT THE ANSWERS WERE (unless of course you have been watching gay midget porn).

So the beer is flowing. Frankster brings another. I decide screw this, lets have a back up. I go right up and get us a double fisting round. I am obsessed with midget porn and take every opportunity I can to scream something about midget porn (oblivious to the fact children are everywhere). I guess had their daddies not been so interested in hearing me yell about midget porn they would have taken them to build sandcastles far far away from the midget obsessed drunk girl. The waves are smashing me. I start to channel Lt. Dan in Forest Gump screaming, "bring it on wave, is that all you have?, fuck you wave." Soon my whole sinus cavity is on fire. Frank has left to get a breather. I feel envious. I want out of this angry water. He comes back with another beer. By this time, the ocean is so bad every time you open beer 2 it foams from being shook around. I finally say fuck it and go back to the land. I have more spinach dip. Frank comes back out. Kay and Shana are awesome wave jumpers and like it out there. I think fun fail. Then comes the famous words, "Fuck it, lets get drunk." Suddenly, we decided we were going to empty that cooler.

There is a bean bag game which we immediately turn into a drinking game. First go Ashley has to chug a whole beer. I am pretty sure 4 beers were gone in round one on just me. I have to pee. We decide to wade in and take them a beer. We barely get them delivered before we are dying to get out. We go back to the game. I have a buzz and decide we need a wildcard rule. So I decide if you get the bag in the 10pt hole you get to make the other person do what you want. (there are 2 senior citizen couples observing this along with a middle aged jealous dude with a lame wife) I of course hit the wildcard first. I make Frank sing I am a Little Teapot with the moves. I continue chugging. I have to do a solo hotty toddy on a wild card. I drink and drink. Shana and Kay surface and sit down. I have to chug a whole beer. I immediately know this is about to get ugly. Throw up is on the way.

I weigh my options. I start to go for the hotel. I realize 3 steps in I will never make it. I turn around and head toward the water. I think I will at least make it deep enough. I am barely up to my knees, when my head convulses and it happens. I duck down and let it go. I continue walking and it happens again. I am still trying to get deeper in the water in an effort not to draw attention to myself. This happens 4 times and I feel so good. Maybe everyone just thought they were swimming in algae and not spinach. I go back up and plop down and announce I just had a first and puked in the ocean. Everyone laughs. I open another beer. Shana has since taken my place. Frank hits a wild card. I suggest she sing Jesus Loves Me. She does. The old people are amused. I help her remember all the words. She launches into church camp tunes. It is awesome. She is drunk and singing about Jesus.

We decide to head to the pool at the condo. I immediately have the radio turned on the Michael Jackson Sirius channel at the pool. I am having drunk conversation that I can't even remember with what I will describe as Southern Baptist types who probably left and went to pray for me. I am sunburned and have the green shit in my hair. They were yelling that I had alien cum in my hair. This made me squeal for it to be removed ASAP. Before I know it, there is almost as much algae swimming around me as there was in that ocean. They go back upstairs and make the rest of the banana daiquris. I announce that I can only have beer. The cooler was refilled too (obviously empty after that game). We keep drinking. I insist on climbing into the fountain in the pool for a photo shoot before leaving. Strangers are amused. I am doing a zen pose in the fountain and sitting cross legged. I suggest they try it.

We go upstairs and shower. I am going to just skip to the cabdriver now. We see him coming down the street. We are tired, buzzed and ready to go and decided to get in the middle of the street so he didn't have to turn in and then fight traffic to go the opposite direction. I am pretty sure this dude smoked himself stupid on a shitload of marjiuana as a young man. He is freaking the hell out and saying the cops are going to get him for that because it is illegal. I am like, "dude we are in the car, no blue lights, take us to Pineapple Willies." Then I start running project distraction. The following is the Q and A session.

-Have you ever seen any gay midget porn? no

-Have you ever seen any midget porn? no

-Have you ever seen a naked midget? no

-Would you like to? no

-Do you ever watch Skinemax? what is that (i explain "plot filled" after dark Cinemax)

He is confused and maybe amused. I let him know the waves sucked and had my hair filled with alien spunk. He doesn't know what spunk is. I explain I don't like the word cum. I tell him I puked in the ocean and I blame those salty waves. He says it is good for surfers. I announce that nobody comes here to surf and since he lives here he should know this. The ride continues with more assorted conversation and finally we get there. He wants to know if my hair is really red. I don't answer and let the rest of the car. We get out. I tell him my name is Frank and insist on taking my picture with him.

Nothing exciting happens at the restaurant. We eat and I win some trivia. I lost some too. (Just wanted to announce the win thing first) We all realize we are dead tired and call the cabbie. He picks us up. I turn my attention to Asian porn this time. He hasn't seen any of that either. Frank is passed out. Shana and I start telling him Frank stared in Asian porn and was so big it about killed the actresses. This was a fun game, but he was so stupid it almost wasn't fun. We get home and go to bed with working electricity. I would declare the weekend a success and I miss those kids even more now.

Can I please get some tin foil???

Well first let me discuss the sober things that bothered me on this day. I spend A LOT of time in the car driving and I hate inconsiderate people on the road. I concluded that if you have to sit on top of the steering wheel and have to have two hands clenched to the wheel, you should INDEED get your ass out of the left lane. I also concluded that you should not be allowed to drive even in the right lane if you are going to drive 10 miles or less under the speed limit. (I damn near plowed into this old Q-Tip for that. Granted I was playing with my iPod and traveling 10+ above the speed limit, but still...) Also, if the bed of your truck is filled with SHIT, it should be in garbage bags. I damn near ran over 2 bird gourds and assorted pieces of trash because some guy in a Ford Ranger puffing away on some Winstons was littering all down I-10. Strap it down or get on 90 buddy. Swerving is dangerous.

Now on to the fun shit. I finally arrived into town after having to work in the hot sun all day. I was parched and reuniting with some of my favs from Mississippi in the PCB. While the condo was gorgeous, that place is super skanky. Seriously, there are more belly button rings still running around there than anywhere I know. Girls have their nails painted in the tackiest of fashion and they dye their hair using Pepe Le Pew as a guide. That said, let's drink.

We go ahead and pre-party with banana daiquiris. (If you haven't bought the banana puree and some coconut rum, you need to) I get everyone addicted, including my friends this weekend. I don't even like frozen drinks. Then we head over to Sharky's. It is KaraNOke night. Oh yay!!! There were lots of families out there. We had a terrible waitress (by terrible I mean I had a tab with her and one at the bar in order to keep myself hydrated). She kept calling my babygirl everytime I asked for something. I CANT FUCKING STAND TERMS OF ENDEARMENT. I don't even like hot boys calling me sweetie, so that was really getting on my nerves. I knew immediately I would get her back for this at some point. Let the Q and A begin.

I order some quesadillas. I order more beer. We start to order chocolate cake shots (Also very delicious and easy to drink). Some little girls start singing this "cheater cheater where did you meet her that low down white trash ho" song. I start screaming does your mother know you are on stage singing about hoes? I google the lyrics and find someone named Rory and Joey sing it. I think I will download it. I order more beer. I realize I need a to go box. The waitress is nowhere to be seen. So in all that extra time I realize a box won't work because it won't fit in my purse for the rest of the bar hopping. What to do....

My friend Kay has a mohawk. A blue mohawk. I do a photo shoot with it. (me sticking my tongue out, flipping it off, caressing it, etc) I will post the pictures when I get back to Tallahassee. Earlier in the evening I suggested he decorate it in themes. I told him he could hide Easter eggs in it and randomly ask people if they want to go on a hunt. Maybe they would like to play touch football in the astroturf. Really the mohawk and the things I could do with it kept me very entertained. As I am sitting there brainstorming for the mohawk, I realize I should ask for aluminum foil because it will fit in my purse. I am playing the scene out, "SCUSE ME!! Can I get some aluminum foil for my Quesadillas?" and it hits. I should ask for tin foil. She already thinks I am stupid anyway. I might as well let her think I am a redneck too. (earlier we had the idea we were going to get t-shirts airbrushed and do a photo shoot on the beach and I had asked if she could be our photographer. Asked if she had some hot rollers we could borrow, asked any dipshit thing I could think of. *note-sadly drinking got in the way and this plan did not pan out)

Shana says she is going to sign me up for the "I survived a Japanese game show" (I am not familiar) I am good and buzzed. I announce I will dominate them! I will drop an atomic bomb. Everyone is laughing their ass off and can't believe I said this. Everyone in the bar probably hears me, which is funny considering we are outdoors. They start calling me A-bomb at this point. I giggle more. I get a beer. We get chocolate cake shots. I ask the lesbians at the bar to take a picture of us and our shots. I engage them in conversation for a minute and go back to my party. I am working on another beer. I also decide to confiscate all the saltine crackers off the table and put them in my purse with visions of handing them out to drunk people dancing in my head or eating them myself. Of course, I made sure to proclaim myself as Premium and take a picture with the Premium cracker before dropping them all in the purse. I am still worried about this tin foil situation. Amanda, the shitastic waitress is still nowhere to be seen.

I look up and see the lesbians macking on each other. I point and say, "look they are making a double egg omelet." By far one of the dumbest things I have ever said drunk. I cried it was so funny though. And for those of you living in a closet, it was 2 chicks with eggs and no sperm= double egg omelet for drunk Ashley. Tears really welled out of my eyes on this.

There is some old lady at the bar in a shiny silver shirt, short shorts (too short shorts in fact), and some little silver pointy shoes. She also has a head full of blonde hair and 65 years worth of tanning bed inflicted wrinkles. I begin to call her Debbie Reynolds Wrap because I am bored and want tin foil. I make it a point to get a picture of her face. As luck would have it, the wind blows a receipt over and she comes over to pick it up. Meanwhile, I am shamelessly snapping a photo. And then Kay becomes my hero. He strikes up a conversation. "Didn't we see you at the pool? You have to take a picture with me." JACKPOT!! Lord, Debbie Reynolds Wrap was a hott mess. (This photo will definitely be uploaded) She did have a diamond mine on her hand though, so it is possible she is not that ditzy and just doped up on some prescription drugs.

Finally Amanda shows back up. Ever so serious, I look at her and say I need you to help me. I need some TIN FOIL. Really emphasizing the tin. I don't laugh (by some miracle) She is like, "you need a box?" No, I need foil. A box is not gonna fit in my purse and I plan on getting drunk and needing to eat this at the next bar, so I need some tin foil. She vows to find me some. We drink more and more and more. Now I want to leave. I still have no foil. Amanda cruises through. "AMANDA, I was serious about that tin foil." She claims they are looking for it.

Seven minutes later Amanda appear with my shiny tin foil. I make her pose with it for a picture. Shana then has the best idea ever and thinks my tin foil should be folded into a bull like they do at Longhorn. We fold it into a bull. Then we have group shots (Amanda included) with the bull. In fact, I demanded she kiss the bull horn, but be careful not to get any slobber on it in one picture. We move onto the next bar. Kay decided to leave us. I made sure I did a photo shoot with the shark outside before leaving.

Sadly, we were all pretty much drunk by then and this bar wound up being lame for many reasons. More KaraNOke and it was a locals' joint. They are rude and the bartender was a bitch, wouldn't wait on us worth a shit cause she was too busy with the local pervs that gave her $3 and told her she was cute (WHICH WAS A LIE! Granted I like males, but I will admit if a girl is hot. She was quiet the opposite). And it was smokey. I don't know why anyone is still allowing smoking in a bar. There was the fucking trashiest looking Elvis impersonator ever there. Sadly, I did not take his picture, but I did get one of me pretending to grab his ass when he didn't know it. I asked him to sing Kentucky Rain 10 times. The douche bag didn't. We split. Called a cab to take us .5 miles. We did unwrap my shiny tin foil bull and have a Quesadilla snack while waiting. The cab driver tells us there has been a power outage. We don't pay attention. She charges us $10 for .5 miles. She doesn't get a tip because 1)that is ridiculous inflation 2)she was not funny.

We are barely in the door when the fucking power goes out. I prop open the door and let the hall light in. We look out the window and all down HWY 98 is blacked out. Some drunk mother fucker hit a power pole. It is 90 degrees outside. I am drunk and sleepy. I attempt to update my facebook status before going to bed.

This is the result:

Ashley Hollis does not appreciate that the power went OUT in panama city and is gonna continue tobeout beacuse some dr"

I prematurely submitted that one. I am too apathetic to care. Right. I go to sleep. I wake up still drunk the next morning. I cook breakfast for everyone. We eat. We go back to bed for three hours. We wake up and eat the rest of breakfast. Now the beach tale can officially begin on the next entry. I have to go to bed now.