Catching Up And Something You Need To See

I returned from a vacation of clear blue water, palm trees,beaches and rum, just in time to run smack into the worst goddamn blizzard since 1979.

26 motherfucking inches of snow fell within 24 hours, it brought 60 - 80 mph winds with it, causing 15ft+ snowdrifts.

Beautiful Lake Michigan had 25 ft seas. That is unheard of. That was that Mother nature welcoming me back home. Bitch

The gods, not to be outdone, blessed me with a double ear infection and bronchitis. Saturday I was at the Doctor's office whimpering, wheezing and begging for him to make it all stop. 2 antibiotic and some ear drops later, I feel like shit. Fabulous.

I am completely deaf in my left ear, which is not always a bad thing around this place. However, because of said ear, everything I do, breathing, chewing, drinking and etc... is amplified in my own head, and quite frankly, getting on my fucking nerves.

So, while I go back to the couch, I need you all to head over to Mama still Wears Gucci

She is upset, sickened, and desperate , as are the rest of us, to get the word out and shed some light on something called "DD" or Domestic Discipline. This is a disgusting form of abuse that some are trying to disguised as a "lifestyle choice". Bullshit. Please go to Mama Gucci's now.

A Drunken Bunch of Random

First, thank you all for stroking my.......... ego a bit. Y'all make me all warm & fuzzy inside... Or maybe it's the 5 rum punch drinks I've had. Whatever, either way, it feels nice.

Dammit, now I have to sit myself on the naughty step because my imagination is out of control. (yes, I watched Supernanny! Fuck you! Friday TV is for shit.)

On with the show.

It's Sunday, and that means it must be time for....


I watch a lot of those crime shows...48 hours, CSI, Law & Order and etc... I could make it look like fucking Tinkerbell killed you. Just sayin'

Sometimes I just want to tell my Sister in law that I hope she gets diarrhea and can't get her pantyhose off.

Some people fall right the fuck off of the ugly tree and land in the stupid bush.

I need someone to help me find my weekend. One minute it was here, and the next it just up and disappeared. Bastard!

While skipping through the castle today, I started to sing "You are my sunshine, my only sunshine"...then I realized, NOPE, it was just the Xanax talking.

Therapy helps, but yelling obscenities is cheaper and fun to watch how people react.

My dream job would be driving the fucking KARMA bus.

Maybe I could get away with running around hitting people in the face with a stick while screaming, "FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THINGS BEER-A-LICIOUS GET A GODDAMN GRIP YOU FUCKSTICK!"

If you say everything happens for a reason, one more time, don't be fucking shocked when I punch you in the goddamn throat and say "It must have happened for a reason, asshole".

The flying monkeys refused to take me somewhere exciting. I shall now feed them to the goddamn gators.

I'm taking the Spawn of Satan back to the hospital. They forgot to install the teenage mute button.

My fortune cookie said my life will be peaceful and happy. Ok, who gave the good drug to the fucking cookie?

Duct tape... makes me smile just thinking about it.

I wonder what would happen it I ran through Burger King screaming, "I'm the other white meat!"

Strap-on is no-parts spelled backwards. Coincidence?

And this whole post? was just more proof that a box of wine contains more philosophy than all the books in the fucking world.

No Bathtub, No Wine, and No Dutchess

THANK YOU FOR MY NEW BATHTUB BUTTON CB! YOU ARE SKANKTACULAR!!!!

Unfortunately, there will be no Drunken Reflections today. I know, I know. That makes you sad, disappointed, heartbroken, and on the verge of tears.

However, after spending most of the goddamn day in the Emergency Room, it has been determined that I, your Drunken Dutchess, am sicker than a fucking cheerleader on homecoming.

One trip to the pharmacy, a couple heavy duty pain killers, and a fever that refuses to go lower than 103.4, I bypassed the wine and bathtub and headed straight for the warm pajamas, a hot toddy and bed.

I will be back with Drunken Reflections next week, and as soon as I feel less like shit someone scraped off their shoe, and more like me, I will be back to your regularly scheduled daily posts.

Now, to prevent you from having to endure one more run-on sentence, I bid you farewell. Fuck you, I'm under the influence of pain killers and massive antibiotics, asshats. Farewell sounded like a good way to end this shitty drivel.

Let's Get Naughty

I figure if it is good enough for the Queen, blah blah blah you know the rest. So today, I'm joining the Naughty List.


There are rules to this shit, but we all know I don't do rules, so click on the button and check them out.
Now, on with the show.

Here are the 5 Naughty Questions:

1. When did you first realize you had a naughty streak?
I was born naughty for shit sake, but I guess I realized it at age 5. The first day of kindergarten a boy in my class asked me to be his girlfriend. He said he would bring me a candy necklace if I said yes. Of course I said yes. At nap time we put our mats next to each other. No, you fucking pervs, nothing happened, I was 5 years old!

On the walk home, (yes, we actually walked to and from school without our parents, back in the day), a blond boy...a first grade blond boy, said I was pretty and funny and then he kissed my cheek and asked me to be his girlfriend. He was fucking blond, you know I said yes. The next day boy 1 brought my candy necklace. I took it and then broke up with him. Yep, naughty.

2. Have you ever stolen anything? What? why?
Yes. I broke into my little sister's piggy bank and took twenty buck from her. I just HAD to buy the super neat hot pink rollers for my roller skates before anyone else.

Look, the roller rink was the Facebook of it's time bitches. Your super cool skates (not in-line) told your status, you went to the DJ and dedicated songs that clarified what you liked, you hung out with your besties in the snack bar, and skated to a slow song with the one you were in a relationship with. Now that? Was a social network, assclowns.

3. Have you ever cheated at anything?
In the interest of time and carpel tunnel, I will list the top 3. I cheat at games, my taxes, (up yours IRS assholes!), and on my 1st husband. Fuck you, he was my learner husband; kind of like training wheels for a bike.

4. Your most used position for sex?
After 10 years of marriage, position doesn't matter. On the rare occasion there is not a daughter, grandson, or the Spawn of Satan with his posse of smelly, pimply teenage boys around, the Duke and I throw our clothes off with wild abandon and have hot monkey sex anywhere, and anyway we can. It's the best 6 and a half minutes of my fucking week.

5. One place or thing that's in your fantasies but rarely or never in your sex life.
If you read me, you know it is Kenny Mcimafuckinghotie Chesney.

Ok now, play if you want, hook up to the link if you do, and don't forget about

Chocolate and Bullshit

I have a sweet tooth, especially when I'm out of Jim Beam emotionally upset. So, my question is this.

Is it possible to consume so many Hershey Kisses that you accidentally poison yourself due to the fucked up mid-quality chocolate they are made of?

Is 483 too many?

Is it a bad sign that the Duke's head now has a little point with a goddamn paper streamer sticking out the top?

Is there a fucking cure?

Anyway...

Everyone embellishes, stretches the truth, fibs a little. It’s part of human nature. We can’t escape it. And sometimes it’s necessary. There is a time and a place for brutal truth, and appropriate reasons to blur it. However, the level of bullshit that we encounter in our daily adult lives is fucking staggering.

Even though I totally appreciate it when anyone is trying to make me feel better with well-intentioned assvice, I sincerely wish they’d save the tired fucking cliches for someone who’s less hostile.

There are some sayings that just make me want to beat the hell out of people with a flaming fucking 2 by 4. Such as...

Age doesn't matter, you can do anything you set your mind to.
One of the biggest goddamn lies ever told to anyone in the history of the motherfucking world. I mean come on. You can not!

I'm never going to be a defensive tackle for the Bears. (Damn, I love those shiny fucking pants). I can't become a trapeze artist. Besides the fact I'd have to work with fucking clowns, you know I'd fall and kill myself. And I'm sure as fuck never going to be President. The pay sucks and I already have a million fucking people who don’t like me, I don’t need whole countries trying to bomb my ass.

You have nothing to fear but fear itself.
Oh yea? Tell that to the guy with the rattlesnake happily sharing his fucking sleeping bag. What a load of shit. Thanks for trying to convince me that spiders can be useful, and I just need to face my fear. But...Fuck. You. I don't need to face anything, I don't need to get over my goddamn fear either. I need to take prescription medication and mix it with alcohol, fuckstick.

It's just going to be a little pinch.
Bull-fucking-shit! Little pinch my ass. Why don't I take that gleaming needle and plunge it into the soft part of your fucking gum and we'll see if it feels like a little pinch. Lying whore.

It's not you its me.
Ha-Ha motherfucker! It's SO you.

If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say it at all.
What a crock of shit. Everybody wants the fucking dirt. We love gossip. The dirty fucking details and the sordid secrets. Most people lick their lips with anticipation when being let in on the juicy fucking secret. That's why I prefer "If you don't have anything nice to say, come sit by me"! Now there's a fucking cliche I can get behind.

Now, speaking of lies and dirty secrets, it's time for a couple ice cold Coronas and the season premiere of 90210...Fuck you, don't judge me.

Just A Couple Of Things

FUCK YOU BLOGGER!!! If you delete, lose, what ever the hell you are doing with my post for a third time, I will fucking drop kick your stupid ass to the curb.

Also, why do you keep deleting the goddamn comments I leave on other blogs? I KNOW the blog owners are not deleting them (but if you are..STOP IT ASSBAGS!).

Seriously, stop fucking with me blogger, it's been a long goddamn day.

Also...
Dear Dipshit in the grocery store standing in front of me in line,

If you know you are going to write a check, (because why should you step into the 21st century and have a fucking debit card) please, PLEASE have your checkbook out and pen ready BEFORE the cashier tells you the amount. Hell, why don't you live dangerously and fill it out, except for the amount, before getting out of your wussy fucking hybrid car.

Why the fuck must you wait until the cashier tells you how much you owe before you begin rummaging through that godamn hefty bag of a purse to even find your checkbook? Look bitch, if you think I enjoy your entertaining little treasure hunt? I don't whore!

Do you know that while you are pilfering through your hefty bag of a purse, STILL LOOKING FOR THE FUCKING CHECKBOOK, I am having fantasies of beating the hell out of you? Oh yes, I dream of many things while you make me wait. Like yanking that fucking huge bag away from you and shoving it right up your ass.

I also think about running into your heels with my grocery cart until they fucking bleed. I even think about waiting to clip you with my goddamn truck as I exit the parking lot and much more!

For your own safety, either get a damn debit card, or have the check made out already, m'kay?

Thanks Much, Heel Bruiser In Waiting
*******************************************

I fucking hate public bathrooms, but when the beer starts to overflow, a girl has to do what a girl has to do. That said, I have some assvice for you.

Do not, under any fucking circumstances, talk on your godamn cell phone while in a public bathroom. Besides being EEEEWWWWW and just fucking disgusting, it is confusing to those of us who may be drunk and already in the bathroom.

I was sitting on the white throne when a voice echoes off the damn stall walls, "Hi! What are you doing?"

What. The. Fuck? Did someone I know follow me in there? It's a good thing that before I could embarrass myself with an answer, you continued your stupid phone conversation.

I have two words for you..."Stop it"! They should take away your fucking cell phone privileges for that. There are places where you should never have phone conversations and a public bathroom is one of those godamn places.

********************************************

And just in case any toy packaging pricks read my bullshit,

I'm seriously worried about your mental health. You must be fucking insane to think that securing a toy in a box wrapped tighter than a fucking chastity belt on a 17th century virgin is a good idea. Why in the hell must you make everything so difficult to open?

I had the pleasure of purchasing some (twenty-fucking-four) cute little plastic football figurines for my grandson. He loves football, so I got him a whole team. I fucking rock like that.

When I got home I started to try and open them. At first, I was excited, but soon, between the squeals of excitement, came the "fuck you motherfuckers I will KILL YOU!" of frustration.

At first I laughed, thinking it was funny that a bottle of Draino, rat poison, and goddamn bleach was easier to open than these cute little toys. I had to remove tape, pry off twisty things, cut through plastic, and break apart random cardboard bits.

Eventually, I stopped laughing and fucking started crying as I broke down trying to wrestle these brand new goddamn toys free from their bondage.

Since my time and sanity are precious to me, I gave up and set them all on motherfucking fire.

Why do you feel the need to torture parents and grown-ups? Do you sit in a room and cackle at the thought of anxious adults breaking a sweat, pulling out random chunks of hair, and turning into scary fucking sociopaths while trying to extract a new toy from its package? Does it make you giddy to know that I am cursing you fucking nut jobs and plotting your eminent fucking demise?

I have a gun, and will fucking use it!

Fevered Thoughts, Kleenex and The F-bomb

Ok asshats, the Dutchess is tired and has a fucking cold. However, it is that time of the week. So, without further adieu, I bring you ...

Duke bought a handgun, for protection. I laughed my ass off because unless he has suddenly become an enemy of a Mid-west Mafia, I'm not sure what we need protecting from.

Maybe some rogue raccoon running all hairy cary on us with an Uzi. Maybe some terrorist Squirrel with a bomb taped to his body screaming "Alla Malla, lowalololawaolallamalla" while running toward the house. HA!

I lived in Texas for over 10 years and it's in the state constitution that everyone must learn proper shooting etiquette. (BTW, HOLLA MR. CLARK!!! That's a shout out to my 1st gun instructor. Sorry about the toe!)

I picture me in my new bathrobe, bleary eyed from lack of sleep, coon skin hat on, (so I can show the other rouge goddamn raccoons I mean business), storm out of the house with guns blazing.

One rouge coon looks at one terrorist squirrel and says, "Dude, they sent Granny Oakley! BWAHAHAHA"

Fucking animals.

I wish I could fly. But, as I've said before, I'm never jumping out of a plane unless it's on fucking fire and going down. Maybe I should bungee jump. On second thought, NOT with these boobs? Oh hell no. Black eyes are not a good look on anyone.

Look fuckers, I know this isn't my best post. My goddamn nose is runny, my eyes are watery, I have a fever and my fucking throat feels like sandpaper. I'm exhausted, and the night-time cold medicine, Xanax, ambien and the cold Corona I washed it all down with, is taking it's toll. Suck it.

We all know that CB got reviewed by some lame ass review blog. I won't get into it (because they are not worth anymore of my goddamn precious time), however, one of their complaints was that the Royal Family swears too much. What-EVAH!

I've been thinking, and stealing a few of these quotes I am taking my Kleenex but leaving you with this...

Times When The F-bomb Was Appropriate
"A fucking Mouse? You gotta be kidding me!" --Donald Duck

"Stupid fucking Cow!" --Mrs. O'Leary

"Where did I put the fucking handcuff keys?" --Harry Houdini

"Ok, who gave the kid the fucking stone?"--Goliath

"Where the fuck am I" --Amelia Erhart

"More wives = more pleasure...what the fuck was I thinking?"--Brigham Young

"Fucking carpet-bagging Yankees!"--General Robert E. Lee

"Prince fucking Charming my ass!" --Princess Diana

"Someone kill that fucking goat!"--Any Cubs Fan

"Un-fucking-sinkable? uh...NO!"--Captain Edward J. Smith

"Aw, c'mon, no one will fucking find out?"--Bill Clinton

"Where did all these fucking Indians come from?" -- General Custer

"Oh COME ON! Any fucking idiot could understand that." -- Einstein

"It does SO fucking look like her!" -- Picasso

"How the fuck did you work that out?" -- Pythagoras

"You want WHAT on the fucking ceiling?" -- Michelangelo

"I don't suppose it's gonna fucking rain." -- Joan of Arc

"Scattered fucking showers...my ass!" -- Noah

"I need this parade like I need a fucking hole in my head!" --JFK

"What the fuck was that?!" --Mayor of Hiroshima

PINT: Dutchess Style

I'm tired and fucking old. You asshats get this today...

ME

My new award from Donda...

An Award...Sort Of

Ok, the Royal Family got this award from Amy J a couple weeks back. Sweeeet! Right?

Well, not exactly. This fucker came with rules, and questions and directions. When I received this fucking award, I was in Vegas, and much too drunk distracted, to figure out how to play along.

Guess what, you lucky fucks? The damn cursor seems to be mocking me today. Bastard. I can't seem to string enough coherent sentences together to come up with a post, so I'm going to treat you to this fucking Award post thing. Whatever.

So the rules (which I didn't make because we all know the Royal family doesn't do rules) of the award are fairly simple. I either choose to be nice and pass this to 10 people or be naughty and pass it to 5 people. Then I just answer some questions!

I will choose 5 people because, well, obviously.

First I have to answer the damn questions.

1. What is the silliest prank you ever played on someone?
Well, it may have been slightly illegal, and if I told you, I'd have to kill you.


2. If you could take a trip anywhere out of the country where would you go? Why?
The Caribbean...Virgin Islands, hands down. Sun, sea, fruity drinks, white sand beaches, bottomless Coronas, cabana boys, kick ass sunsets. I could go on and on, but I won't.

3. Who plays the most influential role in your life?
Well, I would have to say Jim Beam. What!? Fuck you asshat, don't judge me!

4. Are you ok with your significant other being friends with an ex?
Yep, there is room in the backyard to bury both of those fuckers. They can be friends for all of goddamn eternity.

5. Favorite candle scent?
Coffee. It drowns out the funk wafting out of the Spawn of Satan's room. Heads up to all of you that have small boys. One day, that cute little boy will wake up with a goddamn chip on his shoulder the size of Montana, smelling like, ass, feet and sweat that you would swear comes from a dead fucking body. Even with his bedroom door closed, the motherfucking funk permeates the hallway. Either stock up on candles, Lysol and air fresheners, or just kill the little shit when he turns 15.

6. Next movie you're excited about seeing?
I don't go to the movies. They frown on my BYOB policy. Fuckers should sell beer then, but whatever. However, I DID make the Duke take me to see the Kenny Chesney Live and In 3D movie in April. It was KENNY...come on! I love me some Kenny.

7. You must ban one word from the dictionary and all usage, to be no longer uttered or written. What word do you ban?
Democrat. If it isn't self explanatory, tough shit. Just move on to the next question you goddamn tree hugging liberal!

8. Do you have any relatives in jail?
No, but the day isn't over yet.

9. What crazy fads were popular when you were a teenager?
I lived in Texas, so it was all about boots, wrangler jeans, cowboy hats, which I fucking rocked, by the way, mullets and big fucking hair.

10. Have you ever been mentioned in a newspaper or on TV?
Well, there was the time that I made the 10:00 news. There may or may not have been handcuffs involved. Bite Me Bitches!

Now I have to pick 5 people. Well, fuck that. I don't play by the rules. If you want the award, grab it and play along...or not. I don't give a shit, it's Beer:30 and I have a date with a Corona and a slice of lime.

I'm Not Really Here

That's right bitches, I'm on vacation. As you read this I have my ass wedged into a deck chair, am sitting poolside, with a cigarette in one hand and a drink in the other.

Shut-UP fuckers! The difference in everyday and today is that my ass is wedged into a chair in Las Vegas, assholes!

However, I knew my loyal followers, All! Nine! Of! You! Asshats! couldn't live without the Dutchess' wit, snark, use of the word motherfucker and drunken ramblings for 6 days.

So I, being full of the fucking AWESOME, decided to leave you a little somethin-somethin and schedule a few posts to run while I'm gone. Enjoy, and I'll see you soon. Sooner if I decided to take my laptop with me, cuz I rock like that.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
If I have to travel somewhere, I like to fly.
**It gets me there faster (more time at the destination = more drinking time, duh)
**I can drink alcohol and watch a movie while getting to my destination.
**I'm not stuck in a fucking car with people asking who flarted and yelling "She/He's touching me!"

That said, the airlines could make it more entertaining. Especially the in-flight safety speech and other announcements. Some of these you've heard before but if I were the fucking flight attendant you would hear things like...

"There may be 50 ways to leave your lover bitch, but there are only 4 ways out of this airplane so pay attention shidiots..."

"Welcome aboard Screw You Flight XXX to YYY. To operate your seatbelt, insert the metal tab into the buckle, and pull tight. It works just like every other damn seatbelt, and if you don't know how to operate one, you probably shouldn't be out in public unsupervised assbag."

"Please take care when opening the overhead compartments because, you may be killed by falling luggage after a goddamn landing like that."

"In the event of a sudden loss of cabin pressure, oxygen masks will descend from the ceiling. Stop fucking screaming, grab the damn mask, and pull it over your motherfucking face. If you have a small child traveling with you, secure your mask
before assisting with theirs. If you are traveling with more than one
crotch parasite, pick your favorite.""

"As you exit the plane, make sure to gather all of your damn shit. If you leave something, make sure it is something we'd like to have. Any children or spouses left behind will be sold on the Black Market."

"Last one off the plane must clean it."

"We are pleased to have some of the best flight attendants in the goddamn industry... Unfortunately, for you douche bags, none of them are on this flight...!"

"We ask you to please remain seated as Captain Kangafuckingroo bounces us to the terminal."

"Ladies and Gentlemen, please remain in your seats until Capt. Crash and the Crew have brought the aircraft to a screeching halt against the goddamn gate. And, once the tire smoke has cleared and the warning bells are silenced, we'll open the door and you can pick your way through the wreckage to the fucking terminal."

"We'd like to thank you folks for flying with us today. And, the next time you get the insane urge to go zipping through the fucking skies in a pressurized metal tube, we hope you'll think of us here at Assbag Airways."

"Ladies and gentlemen, we've reached cruising altitude and will be turning down the cabin lights. This is for your comfort and to enhance the appearance of your flight attendants."

"Ladies and gentlemen, if you wish to smoke, the smoking section on this airplane is on the wing and if you can light 'em, you can smoke 'em."

"If your carry-on baggage won't fit in the overhead compartments, please ram, cram or jam in under the goddamn seat in front of you."

"Sorry, assclowns, but our landing has been delayed by a mechanical failure. The automatic machine that beats up and loses your luggage is not functioning properly and we'll have to wait for repairs."

"Please remain in your damn seat with your seat belts fastened until the aircraft comes to a complete stop and the Captain turns off the seat belt sign. To my knowledge, no passenger has ever beaten the aircraft to the motherfucking gate anyway, so you may as well sit your ass down."



Ok, some of these I may have hijacked from others. Eat me fuckers, I'm on vacation.

Tough Shit, I work on my own schedule

Drunk, but alive. Y'all are just going to have to wait for the real post. My drunken double vision is fucking with me.

Oh, quit your goddamn complaining ass clowns! You'll get a real post sometime today!

I will tell you that Tim McGraw? So fucking hot. I did take a ton of great pics, but you bitches will have to wait. Tough shit, I make the rules around here.

I'm not saying if I had all of the under garments I left home with still on at the end of the night. But I do have a few stories to tell, Of course.

For now the Dutchess needs a nap, a hot bath and a funny cigarette.

In the meantime, head over to my Sister's blog and to my nieces blog . Those bitches are fucking going head to head in a Prom Queen competition. Grab a drink, pull up a chair and hold on to your ass because THIS should be good.

Later assbags!