Dog Shirts and Toothless Guys With Rob On Top

Before I get started, Bex needs a cupcake. Here ya go love. Lick the icing off first. ;-)

Ok. Now that that piece of business is out of the way, let me just say that this is gonna be a random one.

I've been promising Bex that Turtle has pictures for her since like, forever ago, and have been too blah to actually download them off of my camera. But I'm gonna do it tonight! I swear. (See, Past Meg is writing this and Future Meg is going to post it later tonight. Magic.)

Fire Crotch sent me pictures of the shirts that she bought for her guys and I just knew that T had to have a shirt. And I found the perfect one. It says, "What if I'm not a superhero? What if I'm the bad guy?" That describes him to a T (haha...pun intended, bitches!). He's like a super-human moron (pat on the back if you know where that came from. Don't be ashamed...you know you do). So anyway, the shirt came in last week and I was so impressed that it fit him (FC and I discussed this....the ones she ordered fit too. It's hard to fit my dogs because they're like body builders and their chests are really wide. If you have big dogs, order an XXL from CafePress. You won't be disappointed). Turtle hates wearing clothes, which is unfortunate since I buy a lot for him.

I put the shirt on him and we watched Twilight (natch). He was glued to the screen. When the scene that's described on his shirt came on, he insisted I take a picture. Him and his Uncle Robward, partners in mind-reading, virgin-deflowering, I-wanna-suck-yer-blood crime. *sigh* I'm a proud mama. Here he is in all his glory:

So that's random shit number one. Random shit number two goes along with the fact that I decided to cancel Christmas Sunday morning because I didn't feel good, my family is all kinda fucked up right now, my house was a mess, I hate my neighbors, I didn't get to see Jack all week, and I was PMSing. I texted this to Leighann, who promptly wrote back, "Snap out of it bitch! We're going to get Christmas trees tonight!" Groan. I had the baby all day and drug (dragged? What's correct here? No, I don't have an English degree. Ok, I do, but it's in creative writing and we don't have to use correct grammar if we don't want to. Plus, I'm from BFE Carolina/Virginia and talk like a super-human moron sometimes) Justin with me to a kiddie Christmas party. Bless him. We got back and Justin bailed (bitch) and me, Brad, Leighann, Landen, and BigBabyD went to get trees. It was sumpthin. Here's me with the toothless dude who secured it to the roof of my car for me. He was nice.

Brad helped me get the tree in a stand and into my house, and as we stood there admiring it, he asked if I'd ever had a Christmas tree up in my own house before. The answer to that is no because DouchBag ex always thought it was too messy and he just wanted to go home to his mama's house to enjoy a Christmas tree. Brad shook his head and set forth the following proclamation: From this day on, we will always have Christmas trees no matter what. The end. Then he said, "It's Christmas, bitches!" and I was filled with the holiday spirit. I love him.

So here's my tree. I got some lights and about 7 ornaments (ok. Moment of truth. I went to type ornament and typed unicorns instead. WTF is wrong with me?) on it and then gave up. But I think it's pretty and my big huge multi-colored seriously tacky lights are FTW. Oh, and is that a glittery Rob on top? I think it may be.

And I'll leave you with this. I can't look at this picture and not be in the holiday spirit. He told Santa he wanted a pony and a Rob, by the way. Srsly. Santa looked at me like I'd lost my mind. *fist pump* Represent!!