Voicemail: Steak and Eggs and Reba Part 2

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As many of my friends (or my station wagon full of blog followers – up top! *high fives*) know, earlier this week I posted an actual voicemail left on my work’s answering machine. I will cherish it all of the days of my life. Leaving it as just audio on YouTube didn’t seem to do it justice, even though it still makes me laugh 3 days later. SO, my Lovah (his brains are way huge) has helped me to make it Sundance-worthy! I have reenacted it at the link above using Reba, Live! and Reba, Country Superstar-featured in a Forever Lazy.

Enjoy and go balls out sharing it with whomever you please!

Peace, Love & Reba

~Nic

Grandma’s Cleaner

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YOU WILL!

YOU WILL!

The doorbell rang at about noon today. Smith, wearing only one sock answered the door. I should offer that he was fully clothed besides the one sock, but please know that I debated informing you of that for at least 3 minutes. It is unclear to me why he was only wearing one sock, but he had been wearing just the one sock for at least 3.25 hours by my guestimation. I was cleaning so I did not proceed to the door. Come to think of it, I usually never go to the door because I am almost always in my underwear. Don’t you judge me, I like to stay nimble incase of a fire or natural disaster. Anyhow, from where I was I heard the following:

Smith: “Mumble mumble”

Man Voice: “Good! Mumble Mumble?”

Smith and Man Voice: “Grumble grumble mansounds.org”

I then heard them both giggle as they went outside and closed the front door behind them. I thought: “I wonder if they were talking about I can has a cheesyburger.” (cause that’s what I giggle about 8-15 hours of my normal day to day.)

(How can you not laugh about this?)

10 minutes later Smith came storming into the house from the garage exclaiming “QUICK! I need a squirt bottle! Where are the squirt bottles?!” (As if we have so many of them that there is some sort of room or storage space in our house just for storage of said bottles.) After pulling the contents of the under sink cabinet out, he retrieved a bottle and literally ran out of the back door with the squirt bottle in the air, “I’ll be back in a minute… I gotta… mildew! This is AMAZING!!!”

Hmm… was the visitor a scientist? At this point I was curious, but not curious enough to put on pants. Fifteen minutes after that Smith came back in to retrieve money. Five minutes after that he brought in a hot pink bottle of solution that he just bought off of, for all I know was, a vagabond.

Smith talked me into putting on pants to show me all of the things he and this strange man cleaned around our house to “put his solution to the test.” I was pleasantly surprised because when I say this stuff cleaned, it cleaned the shit outta some shit. Mold on bricks, gutters, break dust, the ground, a wall of something or other. It was pretty cool. I think Smith thought so too because he acted as if the solution was an Easter Miracle. He currently has the bottle “resting” on my side of the bed. The point of this story is, if someone comes to your door selling “Grandma’s Cleaner” put on some pants and buy that shiz. Then clean some shiz. You’ll be happy you did. Unless it turns out that this shiz is poison, but he literally squirted it in his mouth as part of his demonstration. Now I want to spray it in my mouth just to see if it tastes like strawberries. Which is likely how they used to knock off kings and shit back in the day. Well played, vagabond. Well played.

*squirts*

P.S. I found this guy selling Grandma’s Cleaner on YouTube. Smith said this wasn’t our guy, but that he was just as entertaining.

My boyfriend is afraid of my period.

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Warning: Men, your heads may explode after reading this post. While I will not be using the word “vagina” I will be talking about the matters of the ol’ front butt. You have been warned. Proceed with caution.

I love Smith. He is the greatest boyfriend, that will do just about anything for me, including buy feminine products girl’s party favors. He’s also like some sort of ninja in the lady mood matrix. All I gotta do is let out a little grumble and he’s all:

“Hey babe, you wanna to watch Annie with me while I braid your hair?”

I’ve only consciously discovered this recently, when I noticed that he may be afraid of my period when it rains in my lady garden. Mainly because I opened my medicine cabinet to put in a bottle of Midol that he picked up for me when he was “doing some grocery shopping.” It joined four other bottles that he had already picked up in the same manner:

He's in deep, I tells ya!

He’s in deep, I tells ya!

Later I found a bottle in the vitamin drawer near a flash light, like in case all hell breaks loose and there’s no power or Midol left on the planet. Seriously, Midol around here is like jars of mayonnaise or ketchup on most other men’s shopping lists.

“Hmmm… do I have mayonnaise at home for my big midnight sub sandwich that I shall make with 42 varieties of meat and then eat said sandwich in my underwears? Hmmm… can’t remember, better pick one up to be sure…”

I mean if tomorrow US currency was changed to trading Midol pills for goods and services, I would be like a Sultan or some shit, so I’m crossing my fingers.

Further proof: we both went shopping together weeks ago when it was actually “raining in my lady garden.” I ran into Walgreens real quick for some makeup while he went in to “start the shopping.” This is what was happening when I found him (in the wine aisle no less).

It's like he has an app for that...

It’s like he has an app for that…

In conclusion, I may need to do some serious monthly mood charting. As cupcakes have been recently added to his lady garden combat arsenal.

I gotta hand it to him – bish is crafty! :D

Art Students Like Funyuns

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My best friend, Lala is moving away to a magical island! We don’t live in the same state now, but for some reason thinking about her moving has made me nostalgic for our BFF experiences thus far, including college. I was an art student, she was a math major – but eventually she came to the dark side because we had cookies. I couldn’t have been happier because with us both in art classes together, they had two carbon copies of sparkly snarkdom at their immediate disposal. This post is a tribute to our college days!

WHEN SCHEDULING SAID THERE WAS ONLY ROOM FOR ONE MORE IN THE CLASS:

Stay real still, they won’t notice a thing.

“SHIT! THE C- PARKING LOT IS FULL AND WE’RE LATE!” :

Yeeeah, we’re gonna need to call security to get this out of this shit after class.

WHEN NEITHER OF US LOOKED AT A CAMPUS MAP WHILE ELECTING OUR FRESHMAN CLASSES:

Shit! I got side pains, yo!

WHEN IN ART HISTORY WONDERING WHY GHANT, A PROFESSOR BORN AND RAISED IN NORTH CAROLINA, HAS A BRITISH ACCENT:

What the shit?

(SKIPPING HIS CLASS TO GO TO THE OLIVE GARDEN):

Boo-yeah!

WHEN THE PROFESSOR LIKES THE CLASS SUCK-UP’S ART PROJECTS MORE THAN ANYONE ELSES:

TO THE TEACHER WHEN STUDENT REVIEWS FAVORED OUR ART WORK MORE THAN THE SUCK-UP’S:

I will cut a bish.

WHEN THE COLOR THEORY PROFESSOR WANTS TO KNOW “WHO’S ART IS THIS? THE COLORS ARE NOT MIXED REALISTICALLY…”:

“Psst… say it’s yours, I’ll buy you lunch.”

OUR REACTION HEARING WE WILL HAVE “MALE NUDE MODELS IN LIFE DRAWING TOMORROW”:

“Brown-chicken-brown-cow” (say it out loud.)

OUR REACTION WHEN THE OLD NUDE MODELS DISROBED IN CLASS, REVEALING MUCH MORE HAIR ACCUMULATION THAN WE HAD MENTALLY PREPARED FOR:

What is THAT?!

“NICOLE, PICK A PARTNER…”

O’tay!

WHEN VISITING THE RALEIGH ART MUSEUM FOR AN ASSIGNMENT:

*FARTS*

TYPICAL ART STUDENT:

Mmmrph…

US:

I’ll tell you what I want… “I WANT A SON!”

“YOU HAVE FOUR HOURS, THERE WILL BE ONE, FIVE-MINUTE BREAK, TWO HOURS IN. PLEASE OPEN YOUR BLUE EXAM BOOKLETS, NOW”:

Ah crap!

SEEING THE MEANEST, SKINNIEST CHEERLEADER FROM HIGH SCHOOL AT SUBWAY ON TATE STREET. NOTICING SHE GAINED 60 POUNDS AT COLLEGE:

MAKAELA AND THE DRINK MACHINE:

*drags out of classroom doorway by foot*

FAILING TEXTILES CLASS:

“WHAT’S A PELL GRANT?”

“It’s FREE MONEY!”

“I’M GONNA NEED THAT PELL GRANT BACK, IT WAS A MISTAKE”

“THE UNIVERSITY IS CLOSED DUE TO SNOW”:

NO EXAM TODAY, BITCHEZ!

PRESENT YOUR 400 REQUIRED DRAWINGS ASSIGNMENT FROM LAST NIGHT, THAT WAS ON THE SYLLABUS I GAVE YOU 4 MONTHS AGO, BUT NEVER REQUESTED OR DISCUSSED IN CLASS AT ANY POINT IN TIME:

Here ya go!

WHEN AN INSTRUCTOR PEEKS THEIR HEAD INTO THE DIGITAL LAB, HAVING HEARD LOUD LAUGHTER AND A SPONTANEOUS TWO-PERSON RENDITION OF A SPICE GIRLS’ SONG DOWN THE HALL:

Good luck, LaLa-Bean! I’m so excited for you and T! I miss you preeeeetty much every day from here anyways, so you can assume the trend will continue. <3

The Magic of Rahat and The Lone Nut

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I have been off in the wild blue yonder fighting the forest fires of the internal turmoil that are my artistic endeavors. (It’s not actually turmoil, but I liked that it made it seem more dramatic.) I have also been consuming a lot of Pad Thai and midnight VH1. SO I have decided to post something enjoyable that is shorter, as it might be a better route than waiting until I have the eight years I need to put together what I deem to be “a proper post.”

I will start with the following. Before your mind gets scared, this is picture proof of Smith’s insistence on clinging to the empty tinfoil of cookies that he consumed over Christmas. He is currently insisting on keeping this remnant of holiday bliss because it houses one, lone, chocolate-covered cashew that fell off of a chocolate haystack circa December 28th. Warning, what you are about to see may disturb you:

I'll won't let go, Jack. I'll never let go.

I’ll won’t let go, Jack. I’ll never let go.

Next, this video made me laugh extremely hard today. I may be overreacting, but if I were about twenty years older, I am more than certain I would have needed a Poise pad and possibly a bath.

I hope you enjoy this video as much as I did.

For the 50+ crowd, please feel free to use a Poise at your discretion.

Healthy Holiday Trash Cookies

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Super Easy Holiday Trash Cookies

Mmm looks so guuud.

Step 1 – FInd a recipe for easy, healthy, holiday sugar cookies.

Step 2- Go to store and gather ingredients. Make sure store is unexpectedly packed with batshit crazy Thursday afternoon shoppers so that it’s a super easy experience all together. Also, be sure that you get forced to purchase more quantity of individual ingredients than you will ever need or use.

That is some bullshit.

That is some bullshit.

Step 3- Go home and tediously prepare the cookies per the instructions as you destroy what used to be your kitchen.

Where's that penny...

Where’s that old rusty penny that was just here a second ago…

Step 4- Begin to panic when nothing is turning out as pictured. Use every utensil you can find to stir something, anything. Be sure to dirty every dish, even if only by accidentally touching them with your creep melty dough strong hands.

Ah shit.

Ah shit.

Step 5- Bake* two batches of healthy holiday shit taco trash cookies. Let cool. Test their alternative use as a mouse pad. Contemplate their existence as a dog treat. Make Smith taste them. Realize how much you love Smith when he **coughs** and offers, “Hey! The texture is odd but it tastes real good, babe! Good job!”

Step 6- Give up when you realize that for the most part, you hate baking. Dump evidence of your baking endeavors into the trash. Plan to tell people you didn’t answer the phone for four hours because you were out planting something in the ground somewhere. There you have it, easy, healthy holiday trash cookies. Serves 15.

Trash cookies

“Trash cookies are so delicious, and good for you too!” Says homeless dog

*In low altitudes: Rely on Christmas cookies from your kick ass neighbors (Who own their own catering bakery.) If you don’t know what went into making said cookies, you can assume they were only made with love as the main ingredient. Love is fat free and low carb.

Merry-effing Christmas you non-bakers!

Merry-effing Christmas you non-bakers!

:D

Resolve to only bake healthy cupcakes in the future. It’s your role and you know it.

Mmmm shit tacos....

Mmmm shit tacos….

Happy Gangnam Holidays!

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So here we are, and the weeks of holiday travel are upon us. Where did the time go? Just last Friday you were suckin’ on hot dogs at the 4th of July picnic and now you are mere moments away from getting to see a male family member throwin’ back some ‘nog dressed in only his dingiest of underwearz. Wherever you are this season please stay safe, be merry, find a time to laugh so hard that you pee at least 4 drops of joy-filled urine, taste the dang fruitcake, and for the love of gingersnaps make one of these for your family and/or friends!

Enjoy Smith, starring in A Very Merry Smith Gangnam Style Christmas at the link below:

A Gangnam Smithmas

Click for a Gangnam Smithmas or use the link below!

A Very Merry Smith Gangnam Style Christmas

Merry Kwanzannukahsmas!

Art Miami, aka that time I crapped quinoa for 5 days.

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Had you begun to wonder if I’d been abducted by ninjas? Fear not! I was MIA in MIA…mi on some shoots with Smith. Please enjoy this photo of the cutest dog ever, seemingly taking a little nap a top a pile of trash. (He got to go with us on our road trip! :) )

He's actually in his bed, but stole our coats to make it fluffier.

He’s actually in his bed, but stole our coats to make it fluffier.

If you have never been to Miami, think of it as the penis hole of Florida. That’s how I like to think of it anyway. So when I find myself in a crappy part of town I’m like; “Well, it’s not THAT bad, for a penis hole, that is.”

All we are is piss in the wind...

All we are is piss in the wind…

Every December, Art Basel takes over the town. It’s like a high-end art fair that takes place all over the city but mainly in the convention center (Art Basel) and GIGANTIC tents at the 31st Street and 1st Avenue block area (Art Miami).

VIP bitchez!

VIP bitchez!

I got real intimate with these tents, I was all up inside every nook and cranny… so much so that I’m pretty sure I could pleasure Art Miami in a sexual way if I had to. Overall it was pretty cool. There was new art and old art, performance art – where I saw a girl running around with her boobies painted gold, galleries represented from all around the world, strange women in furs – in the sweatiest city on the east coast, mind you , so good luck to them with that.

While there is art, and artists, and art lovers – I found the price of the various shows to be a bit inflated, as is the price of everything in Miami. Anyhow, most passes to the art tents/shows, which allowed you to walk around the tent with a guest, were $100. Does that seem high to anyone else? It would be like paying $100 to go to the mall, if the mall were in a tent and smelled like weed and Cristal in some areas.

Overall, I enjoyed seeing the art and seeing that this art event is so popular. You can read about what celebrity I saw here.

Here’s some of the art I liked, if I had an extra $50,000 laying around I could have bought it all. Please note, apparently I am fond of bunnies when unicorns aren’t available:

Diamonds!

Giant diamonds!

Take us to your leader...

Take us to your leader…

Somebunny ask for 4' bunnies?

Somebunny ask for 4′ bunnies?

Goth bunny with mouth that makes me feel uncomfortable.

Goth bunny with mouth that makes me feel uncomfortable.

This is made of buttons hung on string! Crazy!

This is made of buttons hung on string! Crazy!

I loved this one...

I loved this one…

If you are planning a trip to Miami, here’s a short FU travel guide:

1. Prepare to valet almost everywhere you want to go. There might even be valets for the valets, and that’s some inception type shit goin’ on there. Valet ranges from $5- $35.

2. Just because the price is listed as “price” it does not mean that is the final price you will pay. You should buffer your internal bill tally costs by $15 at nice dining restaurants, and by $100+ in hotel costs, if you are staying on actual South Beach.

3. Hotels

Where NOT to stay:

The Shelbourne on South Beach. It’s the biggest rip off ever, all in hidden fees. Like the $36 complimentary breakfast fee, $30 per day resort fee (they’re not a resort) and the $27 for not purchasing your in-room bottled water fee. These are not exaggerations. Also, if you book a room for under $350 you will be staying in Shit Taco Towers, the unrenovated, low-rent, run-down apartments that look as they likely did when they inspired Little Shoppe of Horrors or Slum Dog Millionaire.

Stay Close Enough:

Try the Double Tree if you’d like to stay Downtown Miami. It’s seconds from the freeway so it makes getting to Lincoln Road and South Beach pretty easy. They’re nice rooms, with a great staff in a high rise of luxury condos that people own. The price is the price and the staff is very agreeable. Great valet too! They even gave Smith a cookie when he walked up to the desk to check in.

Me: “What’s that?”

Smith: “It’s my check-in welcome cookie.”

Me: “Did they think you were a small boy?”

Smith: “No, they just thought ‘I gotta get this guy a cookie!’”

For THE BEST HOTEL IN MIAMI, if you’re not Missy Elliot (aka not willing to pay $900 for a suite at the gorgeous Le Fontainebleau or the Viceroy – we’ve been in both and the rooms are very similar to this little gem):

The Element by Westin. It’s near Miami international and it’s beautiful, safe and even allows you to bring along your canine companions! The staff was awesome too. Oddly enough it’s down on the water near the shipyards – which would normally be where someone would find your body. Not in Miami, it actually felt safe compared to most areas and was totally gated and… beautiful. Stay there! It’s around $200 a night for your own clean, modern apartment with a full kitchen to boot!

Modern and awesome!

Modern and awesome!

Z-man enjoyed the view from the back of the couch!

Z-man enjoyed the view from the back of the couch!

Plus it’s in walking distance from El Farto cafe. I don’t know what they serve, but I am damn sure bitchez got beans… and no English speaking friends to run their “possible restaurant names” list by.

El Farts in the house!

El Farts in the house!

Please don’t burn this mother down, it’s my only hope for hap-peniss in the penis hole.