FUFF Blog Stalk Friday and A Pissy Post

CB changed FUFF to Blog Stalk Friday. Jeeze...just when I could remember FUFF, it's now BSF. Whatever, on with the show...

It was time for my yearly physical, and as usual, the Doc. ordered lab work, blood work, and other shit.

After taking my blood,
Which BTW, why in the fuck do you need 8 goddamn tubes worth? Is Team fucking Edward running the goddamn lab now?

Anyway...The nurse handed me a piss cup and said Doc ordered a urine test too, so I headed to the restroom.

Now, you all know I have mad Ninja skillz, but not many people know that I also have piss test skills too. Since I've been on probation and parole before, I've peed in more goddamn cups than Lindsey fucking Lohan.

I've perfected the skill of aiming without looking and for the guys out there? It's a completely different story when you have a twat. We can't just stick it in the cup and let fucking fly. We have to carefully hold the cup so that our stream, at the very fucking least, hits the side of the cup and runs down. Fuck this up and you walk around with pissy goddamn panties.

Add that to having to hover over the damn toilet (because you don't sit down and then put the cup in place or you end up accidentally touching the fucking toilet water and just, eww, cut my whole fucking arm off, please) and trying to keep your damn dress from getting in the line of fire and you have one tricky fucking dance that takes mad skillz.

I lifted my dress, dropped my thong, and guided the cup into the piss zone. Even though I'm sure I'm in the right spot, I slowly begin to pee just in case.

jesus fucking christ on a cupcake!, I felt the warm piss hit my motherfucking hand. I clenched, stopped the piss flow and readjusted the fucking cup. This cup must be small," I told myself. After making some minor corrections, I relaxed and once again, started pissing. Again, warm piss trickled down hand.

"What. The. Hell." Is my goddamn pussy crooked? I tried a third time, adjusting the cup to where the pee should be coming from. This time, there was no stopping the stream of piss and I gritted my teeth in disgust as I pissed all over my motherfucking hand, the toilet seat and the floor.

When I was finished, I sat down on the toilet and looked at the goddamn cup up to see if any piss got inside.

Well, fuck me. I forgot to take fucking lid off.

I really shouldn't drink before going for these fucking tests.

Then, I noticed that the label on the cup was paper. Just fucking Fabulous. Any other time, it was written on the cup with a goddamn permanent marker. Nope! Not this time.

I tried to wash off the cup and that drenched the fucking paper label, causing it to start peeling off. You couldn't even read my goddamn name anymore.

I whipped that piece of shit cup into the garbage and washed my hands with scalding water. After cleaning the seat and floor and washing my fucking hands, again, I opened the door and called for the nurse.

"Um, I need another pee cup."

"What happened Dutchess?"

"I...I sat on this one. Um...Broke it."

"You sat on it?"

"Yep. Snapped the piece of shit right in half."

"Ok. Just give me the broken one and I'll get you another."

"I can't. I threw it away."

"Oh, well I'll just come in and -"

"Why?"

"We have to account for all medical supplies. I just need to document it."

"So, write it down. This isn't a fucking drug test. I just need another goddamn cup."

"Well, if you could just-"

"OK NURSE RATCHED!! I pissed all over it and tried to wash it off and now it's fucked up, CAN I JUST HAVE ANOTHER GODDAMN CUP?"

"Oh. Yes..um sure...one sec."

I bet there is no fucking piss cup count. The bitch just wanted to make me fucking admit it. Fuck You Nurse Ratched.

Now, go check out the rest of the kick ass people who participate in fuff Blog Stalk Friday.
This is not for the weak and timid. Twat waffles need not click.


It's Friday, BEER ME!!!

FUFF and An Award

Well, first, Happy Birthday (late because I'm lame) Miss C ! Guess what asshats? She gave little old me an award because my blog is HOT.

She digs that I'm bat shit crazy. This bitch LOVES me. Thanks Miss C, I fucking heart your whore face.

Now, should I tell her that the real reason my blog is hot is because of the ridiculous number of menopausal goddamn hot flashes I have throughout the day? Pfffft.


It is also time for...


I love my beer....and cupcakes...and tequila and ...well anyway...

In order to keep this fat ass under 2500 lbs, I had to do something. I decided to start exercising regularly. YES I SO FUCKING DID! Shut-UP! I hear you laughing assbags!

So, I hired a trainer, I call her Barbie the Bitchy Torturer,(because she is as tiny as Dr. Ruth, has a body like Barbie, (without the ginormous tits), natural blond hair Britney Spears would kill for and a cutesy southern accent!!!

Three minutes into my first workout, I immediately decide I hate this fucking exercise shit! Really. Really. HATE. This. Shit.

Bitchy barbie says, "Oh Dutchess, I thought this may be too hard for you. Women your age that are um...out of shape...usually sign up for the water movement classes. I could show you...

Did she just say...OH HELL NO BARBIE!!!! I am going to take this little Barbie Bitch and snap her like a goddamn pencil over my motherfucking knee. Then I remember the terms of my parole. FUCK, no breaking Barbie Bitches.

However, I'm not a quitter. I'm a tough old broad and I am definitely not giving up my goddamn nightly Coronas. I had to figure this out and perhaps there will be an added bonus of driving Barbie Bitch stark raving mad. At the very least, I will crush her little Barbie spirit under the sole of my Nike cross trainers.

I had to find a way that I could actually enjoy this exer-hell bullshit. I thought, "Well DUH! I love Corona, it makes me happy, I think I will have 1 or 3 before my scheduled work out time. (WHAT?!! Can I help it if they are like those goddamn potato chips, you can't eat just one!)

Fuck me,! That was not a good idea at all. Ice cold Coronas taste like the nectar of the fucking gods...until it starts to slosh around on your damn belly while you run on the treadmill, sweat balls on the elliptical, and a do some assinine medicine ball shit. Let's just say that, sadly, drinking is not an option before the gym.

Through trial and error, I found that those wonderful naturally grown wacky weeds were the solution to my problem. A little smokey tokie before my goddamn torture sessions, and presto! Exer-hell isn't too bad.

Then came today. See, there is a new raquette ball court at the gym where I meet my Barbie twice a week. Barbie the Bitchy Torturer decided that playing a game of raquette ball would be a good cardio workout and shake up our normal routine. I, being a bit influenced by a funny cigarette said, "Shhhyea!!! I'm in Barbie Bitch!"

Let's just say that 20 minutes later I was on the floor in a motherfucking fetal position. Barbie the Bitchy torturer smiles and says, "Well, I guess we are done for today, huh?".

I say, "yes, and I only lost because I didn't have on the right bra. My boobs were not properly restrained."

She says, "Not restrained properly?"

"I look at her and sneer, "Have you ever tried to pack two G cups into a fucking super support sports bra? I need a goddamn hydraulic winch and a team of power-lifting Oompa fucking Loompas, and today is a goddamn Oompa Loompa holiday."

"Now, help me up, I think I broke my fucking spleen."

I Have To Do EVERYTHING Around Here! /FUFF

Since my whorefaced niece The Crazy Brunette seems to be MIA, I am going to host her Fucked Up Friday Follow, right here in Dorkville.

CB, BTW, is in deep shit. I brought my goddamn laptop on vacation. Little bitch said she would cut her arm off before ever leaving her laptop behind for her vacation. So, where are the goddamn posts?Hmm? She isn't in goddamn Siberia, she is in California, where they have Wifi everyfuckingwhere.

Anyway... If you are new, go HERE TO READ THE RULES

BUT YOU WILL HAVE TO COME BACK HERE (Dorkville) TO LINK UP

Anyway, on to Fucked Up Friday Follow

I have some things to get off my chest.

To Every Burger King or McDonald's Employee Who Ever Lived: Why do you choose a job working with the goddamn public when it's obvious that you utterly despise all living creatures? Why didn't you go work at the DMV where people expect to be treated like peasant shit? Why can you not just give me my fucking McSalad without causing me mental anguish because my total was $6.68 and I gave you $21.18? Why????

To The Guy Who Left A Message For Me While I Was Gone: You win today's "Most Worthless Strand of DNA" title. Here. I'll tell you why.

I get back home today and I have a message to call Angus (named changed to protect the stupid) from the company that is remodeling the guest bathroom. So, I call.

*ringing*

"Hello?"

"Hi, Angus, it's Dutchess calling. How are you?'

"Did you get my message to call me?"

*blink. blink*

"Nope. I just wanted to see if you watched CSI last night."

"Uhh. Yeah, actually, I did."

"Wow. Thursday nights must be very confusing for you. Anyway, I just called to see if you could give me a brief synopsis cos' I fucking missed it. I had to give myself an enema."

"What? Who is this?"

"The Dutchess...we are your clients..you're remodeling our guest bathroom..."

"I left a message for you to call me."

"Huh. Well, I tell you what, I'll call you as soon as you tell me what happened on CSI last night."

Seriously, Fucktard. Stop smoking crack or raming your fucking head into a wall every night or whatever the hell you're doing because it's KILLING YOUR BRAIN. JUST FUCKING STOP. Or just stop trying to communicate with the outside world. jesus christ on a cracker.

To The Mid-Life Crisis Motherfucker with the hairy arms and the Dodge Viper who happened to be in front of me at the bank:

I come to the bank as a courtesy to my Hubby, for our business, not because I enjoy the witty banter from the goddamn tellers. I am late for my regular Corona pick up, you fucking stain. Do you think that maybe while we sat in line for 10 minutes you could have filled out the damn deposit slip instead of waiting until the receiving box actually opened??

I know that your money really needs to hit the account before 2 pm or your check for that Maxim subscription is going to bounce like my tits without a bra, but bugging the fuck out of the teller while she's trying to process your deposit isn't helping. It made it douche bag.

It shoots up that fucking plastic tube and goes straight to her. I know you can't see it, but, trust me on this. It's a PLASTIC TUBE. Not a portal into another world, you big hairy ball sac.

Oh, and when the slip comes back, can you please just put the receptacle back in and leave? What the hell are you looking for in there? Your goddamn misspent youth? MOVE, YOU ASSHAT.

To the Amazon Bitch who almost knocked me down in her hurry to get into The Deli: It happens all the time. You're walking on the sidewalk into an establishment and someone is crossing the parking lot to walk in. You know that one of you needs to pause and let the other go first or there will be a collision.

I saw you coming, cunt nugget. I hesitated to stop because I had already lost 30 minutes to Mid-Life Dicklick, so why the hell not you too. You, on the other hand, had other plans. You lowered your head like a motherfucking bull about to charge and even skipped a little as you rushed in front of me and then let the door close In. My. Face.

Newsflash, you Amazon whore. There's no shortage of salami. They aren't rationing the cheesecake or the goddamn ham. I could maybe understand your urgency if a bus full of Ethiopian refugees had pulled up at the same time as you did, but we are the only ones in the restaurant. I hope they were out of cheesecake. Bitch. Fuckyouverymuch


Now, link-up bitches. Tell me about your FUFF post. And for fuck sake assbags, please follow CB's rules. I don't need her crazy ass bitching at me.

FUFF and My Love/Hate (mostly hate) Relationship With Mother Nature

Dear Mother Nature,

Thanks for all the fucking rain you have provided this summer Especially today. No, really. Thanks so much. As you can see, my flowers look fucking awesome!

I don’t even have to remember to water them. At all. Really. So thanks. A lot


Aren’t the poppies to-fucking-die-for? Truly?

So here’s the thing, Mother Fucker Nature. I’ve kinda had it up to my tits with the rain for this summer. Actually, all the way up to my tits, in my nose and out my goddamn eyes. With. The. Rain.

Let’s talk. I know, I know…usually by this point in the season I’m bitching about the humidity fucking up my hair. So you thought you’d switch things up a bit this year and flood fuck us with record-breaking downpours. How motherfucking sweet. Really.

Know what’s really sweet? This is really sweet


This is my new outdoor furniture. Purchased this year. For outdoor goddamn enjoyment and entertainment. You know, summer fun ? Have you fucking heard of it? It’s totally kick ass. All the cool kids are doing it. Or they’d like to be. If it were not for the goddamn rain.

Thanks to you, and your rain, I can’t use any of it. When the rain stops, the chairs are too wet to sit on. When the rain stops, there are ginormous puddles and my side yard could be mistaken for a fucking small pond. Where there are puddles, and ponds, there are motherfucking mosquitoes. And we don’t even need to discuss the motherfucking mossies again, do we?


And today? Tornadoes, ear splitting thunder & lightening and 5 inches of fucking rain in 45 minutes? Really?

Roads are closed, trees down and Mitchell International Airport was even evacuated. Did I tell you that I have to fly the hell out of there for vacation? Look, I REALLY NEED this vacation. I need room service, I need to sleep in and not have to make my own bed. I NEED NEW SHOES!!! Jimmy Choo has a shop at Caesar's dammit! You're a woman, I know you understand, right?

So please. I hate beg you: Give me a little break-y, will ya bitch? Just a teeny one. One round of 24 hours without downpours, tornado watches and “severe thunderstorm warnings.” One. That’s all I ask.

And don’t go getting all fucking bitter ’cause I’m asking you to change. Don’t start thinking of ways you could get back at me with, say, a week of record low temps in the desert when I'm in Vegas.

Don’t even fucking go there. ‘Cause you know what? No matter how much of a spiteful bitch you can be? You’re not half as bad as I am with a goddamn hangover and no sleep. Just a little tidbit for ya.

So are we good? We clear on that? Yeah? fanfuckingtastic.

Thanks Much,

PS...Mother Nature, sweetie, ...Every motherfucking channel has been on "Storm Team Coverage" since 4:30. Thanks for making me miss Big Brother you skanky whore.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If you liked this, go check out the other Fucked Up Friday Followers

F.U.F.F. and Drunk Blogging

Hello asshats.

Tis’ the drunken dutchess. Have I told you that I love drinking? I am one with the alcohol...like a ninja with his nun chucks.

Hell, I can damn near focus on the screen while I type this. Shhhyeah, I fucking kick ass!

Can I just say that
1- I loooooove spell check, (no did NOT just type slepp instead of spell).
And
2- it took me almost 4 fucking minutes to write that shit.

Welcome to Dutchess' Drunk Blogging 101, bitches!

I've decided that drunk blogging is the new drunk texting which used to be drunk dialing before everyone(including my goddamn mexican landscaper) stopped talking to one another and started texting and twatting.

I had a post all ready to go about an event related to the Blog Bash, I talked about in yesterdays post. I was going to tell you about the Twitter party of the Bash that took place last night. Then I looked at what I'd written thought, "Well this is a load of bullshit", so I deleted the piece of shit. Why?

Because it was all a goddamn lie. I didn't go to the shitty Twitter/Twatter whatthefuckever Party. I'm glad I didn't go because it could have gotten ugly. But, that is a whole other can of motherfucking worms I'm just not going to open right now.

The truth is, I got lost in a vat of Mojitos while watching Big Brother. (shut UP you douchebag BB haters)! That show tops my summer Must See TV list.

Well, fuckity fuck fuck... I lied again, so what, sue my fat ass. Rescue Me rocks my motherfucking socks off and is my FAV summer show with BB running a close second.

Either way, I drank, smoked, watched BB and forgot about the fucking Twitter Twatter Bash Party thingy. I told you I wasn't good at following rules. Oh well, Tough shit.

But I digress. From a non-existent fucking point. (Seriously assbags, if you even knew the backspaces involved in this entry you would give me a medal!

If I weren’t paying attention this entire post would be all "srrriousslkky… ig yooor eben knew motrrkurrr…" and I would totaly expect you sluts to know what I fucking meant.

But, whatever...moving on. (Should I tell you I have this goddamn post blown up to 150% in mircosoft word so that I can focus on it?)

Cake. Better yet, Cupcakes. Have I told you I love cupcakes almost as much as I love my Corona? Yes, I, your Dutchess has a serious obsession with cupcakes.

It may or may not be related to the amount of tokey tokey I do, but so what, that isn't the focus, shut the hell up. This is all about the cupcakes....or lack thereof.

Someone ate the last cupcake. There will be motherfucking hell to pay. As soon as the double vision and room spiny thing stops.

This concludes Drunken Blogging With the Dutchess.

Now, send me cupcakes bitches... and don't forget about this....



IF YOU ARE EASILY OFFENDED, IF YOU DO NOT CUSS, AND IF YOU ARE ONE OF THESE "PRETTY PLEASE FOLLOW ME" TYPE DOUCHFACE...DO NOT PLAY.

Go fuck your self and leave.

The F.U.F.F.. Is for ass kicking, badass, awesome, people that are not concerned about being family friendly, politically correct, or proper.

We may be dirty, we may be loud, drunk, or high. But I promise, we will hat will rock your motherfucking socks off!