Now i’m high on vicodin and i guess some one had the bright Idea that I should wite a post about it.

Lidkt to hear it? her is goes.

So i SPEACLTYWNAK:GEH broke my ankelt a wek ago. 9am-ish. Gas stationss in gualala, ca.

OH AND MYB THE WEAY i would TOTES link to that bloggess post and blog ansd sutff BUT I”M HIGH. JUST SAYING>

Back to the story. I broke the ankel. in 3 places. I’ve treid to load up the x-ray but it’s been a FAIL.. needliesss to say it was BAD>

So today i wanert in to like have it put togehter BACK togheter and stuf.f I wass lll talkin to the nurse and stuff and then i passed the FUCK OUT>

then they cut open my ankel on both sides and put in a plate and some ccrews. theyn they put me back togehter. and then i was like STILL passed out. Beacaue of DRUGS. BUENNOS DROGAS.

Ummmm, I made my nurse pet my hari like my mommy did when i was litte. because i needed TLC like REAL bad. and my shuangnd wants’t there yet. they like didn’t let him back or something.

My leg/ankle was BURRRNNNNINNNNGGG and THROOOOBBBBBING. and it hurt, like REAL BAD> so the anestehsiologint asked if i wanst tedh the nerve block that we cah talked about pre-op. And i like asking something qiunsestions and then the nurse – you know ythend one that stroked my hari — doris was her name — said ‘i think you should get it’ like all sweet lik,e.

So i said OKA HOOK ME UP. So they did. and I can’t geeel mai legsgsss.

But at first i COULD eel the pain still

and Doris was all

You want a vicodin? an d i was all FUCK YEAH GIVE MET AHT SHITA BITCHA!!

well iddint’ wsayt that wai nlwas just like yes please

and she was like

have you had this before? and i was like YES

doris- you want one or two?

and i was like TWO. because i like thought i was int BIG pain.

ANd now i’m high. you’re welcome.

SMOOOOOCH.

Here’s me high: http://12seconds.tv/channel/VDog/229611

That is all. xoxoxoxo

Viva Sexual Resolutions baby!! See my part one here.

We all met Sugar at BlissDom in the infamous Room 704. Sugar is a TOTAL cracker, just like me, BUT she’s TOTES the opposite of me. If that makes any sense. She’s a self-proclaimed “Jesus Freak” and a San Diego conservative (not to be confused from OTHER conservatives, #snort). I’m religiously confused at best and an atheist at worst and a NorCal “Liberal-tarian” (yes I totes made that up. But it TOTES describes me well).

Some things we have in common are a love for chatting and HAIR PRODUCTS. Cuz they are teh awesome. And they smell good. Particularly TIGI Bed Head products. So go check out this post and see Sugar’s HIGH-Larry-Us video of crackertastic proportions. All in the name of getting a good hair booty.

So there you have it. This week’s Best Freakin’ Read On The ‘Net. Go forth and shower Sugar with 704 love.

Peace be with you. (And also with you.)

This post inspired by an Overheard: He’s just a dick in nerd glasses.

So remember, Don’t Kiss The Dicks. Cuz the Dicks don’t last.

You may know Kristen Chase as Motherhood Uncensored, or @mublogger, OR as The Mominatrix.

We agreed to try out a month long stint as Mominatrixes ourselves during The Mominatrix’s Sexual Resolution campaign, sponsored by Eden Fantasys (yes that means there’s prizes n stuff).

All three of us agreed to get our sexy on, but of course, getting it written out will require ummm…motivation. Which I lack completely. Here I am though, to recap the first few days of the Resolution. We want to extend this challenge to ALL of our readers, regardless of marital or progeny status. We all deserve to get off, and honestly? It’s more likely to happen alone than *with* someone, if ya know what I’m sayin’.

Day One: Wear a Thong

Since I don’t own a thong (anymore) and it was my son’s Birthday, I decided to make up for NOT wearing a thong by going commando a few times instead. For example, we went to our friend’s house for dinner on Saturday. I went commando. I dropped off my son at school today. Commando.

Try it, you might like it. Plus, it’s WAY easier to flash your husband/partner/whoever while going commando. Just sayin’.

Day Two: Sleep Naked

I always sleep naked. No brainer here. Love feeling my skin against smooth sheets and cuddling under my duvet covered down blanket. Raur. Plus you can get a little *how’s your father* action in when you cuddle. OR sex. Yannow. Whatever. You’ll be ready to go. No fussin with clothes. lol

Day Three: Read an Erotic Romance

Okay, dusted off the “couples” erotica we have in the nightstand. Browsed some of the stories and laughed. Is it possible that I like my porn a little more porn-y? Why yes, yes it is. Hmm….

Day Four: Lube It Up

Well, you all know I like to play with lube. ‘Nuff said.

Day Five: Find Your G-Spot

Some of you may be ashamed to admit this, but I’m here to reduce some of the stigma. Our Bodies, Ourselves (which I totes found, well-worn, in my mother’s book collection when I was a teen) encourages women to get intimate with your lady bits. Figure out how it all works. A little “how’s your mother” if you will.

So yes, I’ve fingered myself in the name of science. And lost tampons. (What?? Like that hasn’t happened to YOU.) And guess what? That come hither thing? Totally works.

G-Spot found, fondled and had fun with. However, I prefer a toy/real person to myself. Heh.

Day Six: Make Sexy Playlist

While the Mominatrix has some awesome choices, I’m here to admit that the best sex I’ve ever had in my LIFE was to a Mozart piano concerto. So experiment with different music to see what gets your groove thing on.

You hot yet?? Cuz I might be a little…phew!

Fill tall glass to top with ice.

Pour two fingers width of vodka (less if you’re a wuss, more if you’re an alcoholic).

Add bubbly water to the top.

Stick a straw in it.

DUNN.

Got totally smashed on teh localz beerz…which was not unlike her homeland of Fogandraindola (aka SEATTLE).

But it IS totally unlike it becqausr Zserootle (Seattle) doeszn’t have teh strong beer z like HOLLAND. Hwchihc is..

AWESOME because THIS girl? This girl LOVES to drink teh beerz…with or without da gurlz. BUT she’s NEVER tasted the sweet, sweet cannabis because she’s a good Catholic girl…

Like her mother. Which, frankly, is a bit pathetic. Because the guild reaches far anz wide.

This guild is the beer drinker’s guild. There are many members of this guild, but they are predominantely named, “Flinger.”

But “Flinger” is such a well known beer among the Dutch that VDOG became a fellow household name as well as That Which ACommipnies Fliner Well. When drunkz.

Werd to that. Not only does VDOG be known for da beerz drinkin’, she’s been known to hit a …

Boobie lovin’ dude. And by “hit” she means smashin’ ‘em…

In the face with her majestic…

Clogg shoes.

ANd by Cogg shoes, we mean BOOBS. Er…wait…that doesn’t sound quite right…

Until she passed out wfrom the zdrinkin. Which you arealdy knew. Because it was late in HOlland but…

VDog was still awake in Cali. And decided to hit PUBLISH POST, typos and all.

THE ENZ

Design graciously donated by
Carla Duharte-Razura
www.babyjidesign.com

It’s a round of exciting December Birthdays — and we’re goin’ to Vegas to celebrate (Cracker Style)!

Check out the facebook event page, post a badge, and make your travel plans, cuz it’s sure to be off tha HOOK!

Birthday Boys & Girls:

Attending
Aaron, King of Spain, Dec. 9 #36? 37?
Erin, Queen of Spain, Dec. 10 #35
VDog, Queen of Crackers, Dec. 18 #30
Megan, Queen of Undomesticity, Dec. 31, #29

Unconfirmed
Amy, Queen of Outdoor Dogs, Dec. 11 #30
ZoeyJane, Queen of Moody, Dec. 9 #28? 29?

I know there are a ton of people I am forgetting. Let me know who you are and I’ll hit ya up. Werd.
(And a HUGE thank you to Lotus for coding my boxes. Snort.)

Grab a button:

<center><a href="http://www.facebook.com/event.php?eid=132353316587&index=1"><img border="0" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_O7IfeyVWCuo/Sst-iko8dgI/AAAAAAAAC2o/dvu5njNFbjc/None.jpg"></a><center>

<center><a href="http://www.facebook.com/event.php?eid=132353316587&index=1"><img border="0" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_O7IfeyVWCuo/SsuEVWbHoGI/AAAAAAAAC2s/yiPl34FSXXk/None.jpg"></a><center>

I was never Baptized, Christened, or whatever else people do to show affiliation with a group.

My dad actually had a card that said, “Card Carrying Rabble Rouser.” He would also repeatedly tell us that he’d never want to be a part of any group that would have him as a member.

My dad was a scientist type. He made his own DOS code, invented polyurethane formulas for his business, and worked on a PC for as long as I can remember.

My mother, on the other hand, was raised Lutheran. Her parents, my grandparents, lost their faith when their fourteen year old son died unexpectedly of appendicitis. My mom was eleven. She was told that there was no God.

Growing up, my mom tried on many different spiritual “hats,” so to speak. Buddhism (complete with a trip to UCLA to see The Dalai Lama speak, dragging me along as a sixteen year old), new-age spirituality, crystals, past-lives, Psychic Eye Bookstores and geodes on display in her bathroom.

My mom and I both like to believe that we can see the spirits of our loved ones in unexpected butterflies.

~

My father’s mother died when I was three and a half. I did not know her well, but I have a picture of my sister and me with her, on her hospital bed, which may or may not have actually been in the hospital.

She died of emphysema. I could not comprehend that I would never, ever, see her again. I cried often at night.

I could not believe that my father would smoke cigarettes after her death. Of course, I was nine when I really figured that out, and I hid his cigarettes from him. Marlboro Reds.

~

From a young age, I believed in God. Whatever social messages I was getting were strong enough for me to know that I SHOULD believe in God, and that I SHOULD kneel in front of my bed, hands clasped, and pray before going to sleep.

At some point before second grade, I learned that God wasn’t real. That there was Science and Belief. We were in camp Science.

~

At night, I would have dreams about traveling to “Hockey-Zoodie-Land” — my made up universe, that was quite like Earth’s moon. The moon was close enough to be tangible for me — a far away object that I could clearly see “out there.”

As I got older, my dreams became more elaborate. I would take a Limousine to Texas, where I would board a Space Shuttle that would take me to Hockey Zoodie Land.

A bit older, I would play with Mario and Princess Peach on Hockey Zoodie Land.

They were good dreams that took me far from reality.

~

What are your Confessions?

This spring I became a different person. I was exhausted. I had headaches 5-7 days a week. My patience was at an all time low.

I had started snoring for the first time in my life for no reason at all. Sure, I had the occasional snoring episodes when I would be really sick and stuffed up, or when, on occasion, I imbibed in a few too many cocktails.

But this snoring started overnight, every night, out of nowhere. No weight gain, no health changes, just BOOM. Snorty snory badness. My snoring was so bad that my husband was routinely sleeping in the guest room, as he is frequently on deadline and can’t afford NOT to sleep.

So earlier this month on August 3rd, I went in for a Sleep Study, as recommended by my Internist. This was my home for the night:

My girls kept me entertained by saying, “ropes on the wall and handcuffs on the bed, wtf kind of ’sleep study’ IS this??” (Yes, I emailed them a picture to pass the time. I was on my iPhone as long as I could!)

It’s not that I was scared per se, but it’s not exactly a comfortable experience.

I was hooked up to a pulse ox on my finger and heart monitors on my chest, which brought back the memories of my baby in the NICU, hooked up to all kinds of monitors.

I had about a dozen or more sensors all over my head, scalp and neck to monitor…uh…stuff related to my sleep?? I had a monitor on my leg to test for restless leg syndrome. First a gritty cleaner was applied to each location that needed a monitor, to ensure an all night seal. Since my skin is very sensitive, this was a bit painful and left big angry red marks on my skin for almost a week.

There was an infrared camera on me and a sound monitor. If I needed anything, like a trip to the restroom, I had to talk out loud to the room — “I NEED TO USE THE RESTROOM!” Then a voice would come over the monitor, “okay, I’ll be right there!” It was very strange.

There were three other people getting a Sleep Study that night — two men and one woman. The men stayed on one side of the center, and us women slept in bedrooms next to each other. All of the other participants were considerably older than I. I could hear my neighbor sawing away VERY loudly within minutes of lights out.

I had what is called a “split night” study. The first half of the night, the nurse just observed my sleep and snoring. At one point she had to come in to put me on my back, as I wasn’t snoring enough on my side. After an hour on my back, she had the information she needed and came in to put me on a CPAP (Continuous Positive Airway Pressure) machine to begin the second half of the study. My son was ALSO on a CPAP in the NICU.

I slept with the CPAP machine on for the remainder of the night. I woke up with a start at 6:20am. I laid back down to try to get a few more zzz’s, but my nurse was ALL OVER IT, and came right in with a cheery, “GOOD MORNING!”

Dang it. No kid, no husband, no dog, and I’m still up early.

I could see why she wanted to get started though — it took about an hour to put ON all of my monitors, and about forty-five minutes to take them all OFF. I was out of there by 7am.

The nurse is technically not allowed to give you any results since they are not doctors and don’t interpret the results, but she was able to tell me that I was definitely snoring and definitely NOT sleeping when I was on my back. I felt vindicated. And sad.

Apparently it takes ten business days to score your test, which I think is bullshit, but okay, whatever. So I had to make my follow up appointment for AFTER our two week vacation (which ended up being just over one week due to me being a cracker and breaking my ankle). August 24th I was supposed to get the results. But as you’ll remember, I had surgery on the 21st and my husband said, “NO WAY. You need to rest.” “But I want to sleeeeeeeeep!” “Uh, you have norco.” “Oh, right.”

So instead, I went to get my results two days ago. It was illuminating, to say the least. When I am on my back, I wake up roughly every two minutes. I had thirty-seven instances of apnea in an hour. Which means my body woke itself up just barely so I could start breathing again THIRTY-SEVEN TIMES. IN ONE HOUR.

HOLY JEEBUS CHRIST NO WONDER I’VE BEEN AN IMPATIENT, BITCHY, NO FUN, DEPRESSED, HEADACHE RIDDLED CRACKJOB.

{exhale}

I am someone who needs a lot of sleep. A LOT. Nine hours does a body good. I can’t accomplish a lot with these sleep restrictions. But I REALLY can’t accomplish ANYTHING when I’m actually NOT SLEEPING. ALL NIGHT LONG. ::headdesk::headdesk::headdesk::{REPEAT}

Apneas over thirty times an hour is considered “severe.” So I am now a super cracker with severe sleep apnea. And a bionic ankle. And empty uterus.

Yesterday I went to the “durable materials” center where I was given my prescribed CPAP machine. Last night I used my CPAP machine for the first time. I slept all. night. long. My first wakening was at 5am for a bathroom break. That hasn’t happened in YEARS! Then I went back to sleep for a couple more hours.

This machine is going to change my life. I am not ridiculously tired. I did not feel even the slightest urge to nap this afternoon, whereas the past few months they were a necessity for my sanity.

I was at risk for sleep apnea because it’s in my family — my dad and maternal grandfather both had it — I have hypothyroidism, and yes, I am overweight. The doctor is fairly certain that it is not caused by my weight, however, since I hadn’t recently gained weight when the apnea set in. We’ll just chalk it up to getting older.

I wanted to share this because we, as women, are ashamed to admit that we snore. Snoring is NOT ladylike. Snoring is something only MEN do. Snoring is embarrassing!

TOTALLY CHEESY PSA: If you or someone you know snores and it is disrupting your life, get help. Like, NOW. You won’t regret it.