Tanya's Passion Parties

I have had quite the 24 hours.

I've been trying to get the damn Haunted Airman dvd in the mail for Rob's Swiss Miss for the past week, but I get diverted easily by shiny objects, food, alcohol, cute puppies, etc., etc., so I was just getting around to it yesterday morning. Of course I hadn't bought an envelope to ship that bad boy in, so I had to get one at the post office. There was a super long line, so I grabbed the envelope and went back outside to address it. Then I got back in line. And waited. And waited. And waited. It wasn't moving. Why, you ask? Well, it had to do with this nasty, rode hard and put away wet skank in front of me. Upon closer examination, I saw a Rubbermaid storage box with a sign taped to it that said "Tanya's Passion Parties." And it was full of dildo shaped cardboard boxes. Yep, the bitch was shipping peens. And she had like 15 of them. And she was arguing with the clerk over the price of postage. I tried to get a picture, but I was trying to remain inconspicuous (pffffttt...I know, right?). FML.

At that point, I was about 15 minutes late for my "work event" that I was supposed to be leaving for so I said fuck it and stormed out of the post office muttering (ok, loudly complaining) cuss words. I got about 10 minutes down the road and realized that I had definitely stolen the shipping envelope. Oops. My bad. Worth going back for? Absolutely not. So add theft of federal property to my list of great accomplishments (Note to federal authorities: I'm totally making this story up. I have never stolen anything in my life. On purpose. But definitely not a shipping envelope from one of your post offices.) I have plans to go to the UPS store at lunch.

So aaaaannnnyyyyway, I make the 2 hour trek through the swamp to the place I was supposed to be for work and actually almost got there on time. Luckily, I stopped for lunch beforehand because I was there from 1:00-8:00 and those bitches didn't offer me any food or water. It was awful. I ate my last Robward caramel for dinner and that made me sad. I had to talk about the Great Depression and mules for 7 hours (which is what I wrote my master's thesis on. I am so full of useless information), listen to a Jesus singing group (I'm sure there's a more technical term for that...gospel choir? Yeah. That sounds right), and was told by some old dude that mules were an abomination to God because they were, and I quote, "an unnatural mating." I closed my eyes, channeled VF Rob, and refrained from punching him in the face.

Not an abomination. This is hanging in my living room. Is that weird?

Meanwhile, in a little place called the internet, shit was hitting the fan over those Harper's pictures. But did I have internet access in bfe swampland? Of course not! So I just had to read everyone's "oh my god, oh my god, oh my god" tweets on my circa 1950 cell phone and go slowly insane. Plus, it was freezing in the building (and I use the term loosely) that we were in and I was pretty sure I was going to get raped every time I went to the bathroom. There were a couple of hot professors there, but I figured there must have been something wrong with them to be teaching where they did.

Start humming the theme from Deliverance now.

I finally rolled back into my driveway at an ungodly hour of the evening, kicked off my shoes, yelled "Mommy has important pictures to look at! Go lay down!" to my poor neglected dogs and started dry humping my computer. *Sigh* All better.


I'm trying to stay out of trouble today. That's probably going to all go out the window when I go to put up the food drive Christmas tree at work and decorate it with green and red glittered VF Rob pictures (thanks for the idea, FireCrotch!). Guess what's going to be my tree topper? ;)

Oh, and P.S. I almost forgot about the college-age girl with the Team Jacob shirt on. I told her that I couldn't talk to her because of her shirt. I don't think she realized I was joking. Kind of. Whatevs.