debutaunt.com

Yes. I'm fascinated with weirdos

I know. Was I right or what? I couldn't stop reading about that dude's foreskin. It was horrifying yet strangely fascinating. Like, damn, what was that guy thinking as he was writing?

Was he thinking that it was innocent and he was being helpful, or was he being more grotesque. Was he remembering his roommates masturbation or was he actually thinking about SJ as he wrote and was simultaneously masturbating. Or maybe a threesome with his wife. I can't imagine the effort that went into that regardless of his intentions. For a few minutes, I was thinking it actually was Y typing as 'Jesse,' to write some bullshit about cock mutilation.

I get some really freaky people that search strange shit to get to my site (accidentally). The real freaks are too scared to comment. But after reading 'Jesse's' dick manifesto, I'm sort of glad.

The #1 is some entry I had from way back that had sex with three x's. Like "se.x.x.x." That one brings up mostly Europeans. Like those extra x's just will make what they find that much dirtier.

Followed closely by "assfuck" and "the biggest one I ever saw."

Weirdest one still was "thin granny sex."

Still. I would have been honored had I had an 870 word comment sometime. That's a lot of effort for some dickskin.

I'm not weird. I just play one on t.v.

I don't want to know who you are

Ok. I'm sure the author of this meant well. But verbatim is a comment left on the Sarcastic Journalist's blog regarding the big brewhaha over circumcision she caused the other day.

"I grew up as the only intact boy in my area. I owe my good fortune to having unusually savvy parents. When a nurse came to take me to be circumcised, my parents said no because no male in my family had ever been circumcised or had any problems with his foreskin. Also, my grandfather was a druggist and had had to correct physicians’ prescriptions so that the doctors didn’t injure or kill their patients. At a time when most people treated doctors as if they were gods, my parents knew better.

Even if stretching had not worked, I now know that there are other simple ways to safely make a tight foreskin retractable without cutting, including, for example, topical application of the common steroid cream, beta methasone valerate 0.05%."

The internet scares me.

And you all thought I was hork-ariffic when I wrote about MY sex life. Sorry, there are just some things you should just not share with the internet. Like the tapering of your foreskin.

Besides, who writes an 870 word comment?

True to Life Mantras

Mantras for Daily Living by my Big Sis. The Uber Fitness Goddess

Repeat after me:

Rice cakes taste good
Myoplex tastes exactly like a chocolate shake from McDonalds
Grill chicken with no fat or oil tastes like chicken and not dried fleshlike cardboard
Really, I am not starving to death
A half of cup of rice is all you need to feel really full
Eating 10% fat doesn't make me edgy or irratable at all, I am just normally a complete jerk
If you eat a lot of veggies, you don't want to eat Girl Scout cookies
You can never get sick of egg whites
The smell of cooking steak is repulsive to me
Canned tuna does not smell like catfood
No, that's not my stomach growling - I am absolutely content with my whey protein shake
No. Really. Dammit! My stomach is NOT growling
Drinking tons of water does not make me pee like a racehorse
Drink alcohol? No way, my body is my temple
Eating six times a day does not make me obsess about food
Myoplex does not smell like chalky throwup
My stomach is completely shrunk - I couldn't chow down even if I wanted to
Oatmeal is my friend.

Whoops, I, must, stop, typing ... My nose, well it has, grown so long, I find it hard, to type, as it is, smooshed against, the monitor.

No amount of concealer

And all this typed from the Keyboard of Satan

Or would that be the Debbil?

For one of my sexy friends who is secretly sexy:

"but one wrong look, and i'd prolly be on her like sticky on a stamp."

that was said about you. heh.

Extreme Closeups

The view from my chair:

Much easier than writing an actual entry.

I've been writing a bunch, but keeping them in draft. I might post them one day, but for now, you all will be left in the dark.

My girlies know what it is though.

I miss Zoe. That is all.

No Sleep for the Jizzy

I have never seen baggage like this on my face before.

Someone tell me it's ok to take a long nap for the rest of the afternoon, ok?

The Ass that is My Tongue

Ok, this protein shake tastes good, but leaves my tongue tasting like dried leather.

See

Party like Cock Stars

Me Piehole girl made me think of this.

1. Drink until you pass out. Headbob and sleep on somebody's boobie.

2. Eat bacon-wrapped shrimp. Eat as much as you can so that no one else can get some.

3. Play a game that never ends. Answer questions and say things authoritatively like "I'm sure it's tureen; I think."

4. Argue over lock vs. locks.

5. Affectionately mispronounce cupboard as 'cup-board.'

6. Accuse boys who know about mascara and valances of being metros.

7. Sleep until 11am the next day for the first time in 10 years.

8. Say your goodbyes three separate times.

Have a great time. Even sans alcohol.

Day One is halfway down.

Request

Need better breakfast ideas. Must be easy to fix and fast.

I am not a big fan of eggs. But I need to find some better recipes using a combo of 1 egg and 3 egg whites (or egg beaters). Needs to be lower in fat, low carb, and tasty.

I can't seem to find the right combo of spices to make them taste like anything other than well... yuck.

I don't like fried eggs or anything runny because it reminds me of snot.

So if you want, email them to me or post them for all to see.

And Happy Birthday, Ms. Sassypants. Your pants are pretty damn hot! They will get even hotter now that you are in your 30's. It's a fun time.

Hi Freaks of Humanity

Ok, some wack job

has directed a few people over to my site. He also posted a great rampage about what a freak hypocrite I am. Like that's news.

So if you are here because of Sheepfucker Todd, why don't you go on over to Todd's house to thank him for me.

Yay!

Yeah, I changed the link to his house. We don't want him getting anally raped by strange dudes, do we?

I Miss Zoe

She is having fun with my stepson, her big brother. Lots to do up there. Wearing her Grandma out.

My house is eerie and quiet.

Too empty for my likes.

Dinner

Had dinner at Pappadeaux with my peeps last night. Of the 6 strongest most kickass women I know, 4 of them were there. Paigey and Meerkat we missed ya. Girlies (and my Beatleboy) it was awesome to see you. I think that should be a weekly tribunal sort of thing.

How is it that they can charge $16 for a grilled chicken breast? Damn.

And fucking Capn Morgans and Dr. Pepper (KK's drink). Spensive. Hope it was the bombdiggity.

Had a two hour phone call with The Boy. Then he couldn't help but make that long ass road trip. He was on the phone with me the entire time, but about 4 minutes in to it he said:

"Promise me that you will do two things."

"Ok. Anything. Sure." I'm thinkin it's probably a blow job or something of that nature.

"First. If I get pulled over for a DWI, bail me out."

"Mmm... oh. Ok. Sure."

Then silence. Complete silence.

"Boy? Boy? What's up? Where'd you go." I can hear the sound of a car hitting those speed bump things that keep you from going off the road. He's tired as fuck and I thought maybe he fell out. "Dude. WAKE UP."

He said... "oh, hell. I'm getting pulled over right now."

I finish up my workout where I left off earlier. Jump in the shower, and was thinking that I would have to call my BIL in the morning to post bond or something.

Come out of the shower to find that I missed 3 calls from him.

Turns out that he got a WARNING. He was speeding and threw out a full glass of alcohol out the window, practically in front of the cop, and got a FREAKING WARNING.

I totally made it worth his while, but damn, I'm tired as a mofo.

Ding Ding Ding!! We have a winner!!

It's like winning the sex lottery or something.

Bless All This Mess

I am dressed like a dork today. Generic work/company golf shirt and some capri pants and sneaks.

So I'm eating my yum salad and I brought a small orange.

Which I then proceeded to drip on my left boob.

Here is the carnage. You'd think that being small of boobage it would fall on my lap.

Yes, I am missing my Zoe. And feeling anti-social.

Me and Zoe testing out our camera phone. I told her to make a face and she made the same one I did.

This type of facial contortion runs in my family. Here are two of my three bros.

Zoe visiting my mom, aka Momo G, at a university I used to go to. We went to the basketball game and then went to go look at Christmas lights. I'm so glad she's prettier than I am.

This is the normal me. I'm trying to become much less sensitive about the way I look in pictures. I'm pretty cool with myself in person, but since I got the haters giving me shit about being so fucking ugly, I'd figure I'd just start putting my ugly mug out there. Peace.

Did I say I miss Zoe yet?

oh. ok.

First Phone Call

This phone call undid all the great meditating and stretching I did this morning:

Mom (me): Hey, I was just calling to see how our girl was doing.

Dad (Zoe's dad): She's ok, she almost drown yesterday.

I'm not sure if I will last an entire month of this.

Apparently Zoe was swimming and went down the slide with her arms up and a floatie came off her arm. She went under the water, but kicked the whole time. Still she was scared. The girl has only been swimming with floaties like 4 times. She just learned to swim.

I know I'm an overly cautious mom. But I'll be damned if my child drowns when I'm nearby.

Now he wants to send her to a daycamp. Ok, the whole purpose of her going up there was to spend time with her relatives. She could have gone to camp here (as I had already paid the daycare for it).

At least I am attempting to take care of myself. Worked a bit too late, but came home and grilled up a lean steak and some veggies. Then went swimming for an hour - mostly laps and some resistant exercises.

Big deadline today.

Wish me luck.

See. I *Do* Love You

Since I couldn't say it any better than Simply Greg, I won't attempt to.

Anatomy of a Drunk Dial

I'm Backkkkkk

I miss Zoe. I'm sure I will write that every day. So just deal with it.

New Orleans - A rememberance:

"Go hoochie or go home." (yes, I was showing some cleavage - thanks to the miracle that is the engineering of my bra)

"Throw me some beads. I'm not going to flash you, but I can't see you without my glasses so SHE will have to catch them for me."

"I can't taste the alcohol in this drink."

"She's flirting with everything that has a dick."

"What's in a hand grenade?"

"Take my picture."

"What do you do in Houston?"
"She's a prostitute"

Kissing a strange gorgeous man. (but then checking my purse after to see if he was a pickpocket)

Upgrade on my hotel room for being a single mom with some time off from me kiddo. Yay for sympathetic front desk clerks.

Driving to New Orleans and back in that short period of time sucked. I knew that it would. Especially on the way back, post hangover and nauseated.

What dumbass decided that it would be smart to put two lane freeway between here and Louisiana? And on the way back, damn Louisiana put these roads that have so many bumps it's like a freaking obstacle course. I'm like... they must really HATE Texans to do that to us. You are already tired and sick, so then they make the ride back miserable.

As far as Bourbon Street - well that probably will be my last time down there. I did that (and better) ten years ago in Austin. Not much to offer for me there.

But I would go back and do the touristy tour / history kind of thing. There was so much to look at that I could have used a few more days there. I want to go down the Mighty Mississippi. I want to go on the cemetary/ghost tour. I want to relax and eat in a tiny cafe. I want to be touristy/non-touristy.

It would be a cool place to go with The Boy For Sex for a long weekend. But what I'd do to him there could easily be done in my apartment.

I think I'm still hungover. It's going to be a long work day.

And I miss my Zoe.

To my girls: I love you Meerkat and Pleather. I couldn't have picked any better to hit the road with.

Buzz for Fridays

Wilco - Radio Cure Lyrics

Cheer up, honey, I hope you can
There is something wrong with me
My mind is filled with silvery star
Honey kisses, clouds of fog
Sugars shrugging off
Cheer up, honey, I hope you can
There is something wrong with me
My mind is filled with radio cures
Electronic surgical words
Picking apples for kings & queens of things I?ve never seen
Oh, distance has no way of making love understandable
Cheer up, honey, I hope you can
There is something wrong with me
My mind is filled with silvery star
Honey kisses, clouds of fog
Picking apples for kings & queens of things I?ve never seen
Oh, distance has no way of making love understandable
Oh, distance has no way of making love understandable
Oh, distance has the way of making love understandable
Oh, distance has the way of making love understandable
Cheer up, honey, I hope you can

Jigga What?

Oh man. I'm totally a big ol' titty baby.

I packed up Zoe's stuff last night and was bawling my eyes out. It was like she had died or something and I was giving away her possessions. I carefully folded everything and packed up some toys and books and videos. I made a few lists and set out her kid ID card and her health insurance card. I wrote out her night routine and made sure I had it all listed out that she needs to rinse with flouride and use conditioner on her hair and that she has sensitive skin and can only use Johnson's baby lotion.

I'm excited about the time off, but that child is like my right arm. I've never been separated from her this long.

This morning she got me like no other. She didn't want me to get up to go to work and wanted to stay snugged up with me. She asked if I could skip work and just stay with her for the day. And was tearing up because she said she was going to miss me. I told her she will have lots of fun with all her cousins and how good it will be to see her dad. I didn't want her to see my cry, but I cried the whole way in to work.

My stomach hurts.

But French Quarter, here we come motherfucker!

Wishful Thinking

Sent to me via a friend:

[Chef quote]My lil bro told me last night that if I didnt slow down with my womanizing my dick was gonna look like a hot dog in a microwave. Maybe he has a point but hell I can't help it. I am like a crack head when it comes to pussy. Gimme Gimme Gimme!!!! [/quote]

No, I think it would look more like a lil smokey.

Wait. Too late. It already does.

Yep, this is about right

So glad to have cleaned house over in these deb_parts. It's like a breath of fresh air.

Thanks for letting me borrow this, Y.

Shell Go To Hell

Simply Greg posted something that made me think about priorities in my life and what makes me part of who I am.

I know that I rant off and on and come off as a raging bitch sometimes, but I've always been a pretty fair and tolerant person of other people and other cultures. I never grew up around racism, as my parents aren't like that at all, so I still don't understand it. I never want to. I don't proclaim to be an expert on other cultures, but I find them interesting and amazing.

I have a close friend who is Indian and I am grateful that she explains things about being a Hindu to me in such a patient and loving way. I think it is because I am open minded and don't make rude assumptions about her and because I really just want to know things. Not like they teach you about India or Africa in school or anything. (well at least back then they didn't)

I know that the online dating thing has shown me a few things about life and hate and intolerance. Many people that are very tolerant of all kinds of people (or at least say they are) but won't date all kinds of people. They don't really have a reason, but they aren't open minded one bit. And some are outright racist assholes about it.

Chef was like that. He said he would fuck outside his race, maybe, but would never marry one. And if I ever was brought to his family in Florida, that I shouldn't mention to the "Crackers" that I had dated all different kinds of men - Blacks, Latinos, Asians, and other religions - especially God forbid, telling them about Dr. Egypt who was a Muslim. Because you know, that means he's a terrorist and all, riiiiiight? He also said we should have dropped a bomb on the entire Middle East after 9/11. He also said he was a hitman. Yay. He's a genius.

I never really had dated outside of my race before college simply because I am a 'burb girl. I lived in nearly all white neighborhoods and went to nearly all white schools. But that was before I went to a university in San Antonio for a few semesters, where my folks had moved after I graduated H.S.

It was there that *I* was the minority. I was the Gringa, the Blanca, the caucasion one with the mysterious black hair and blue eyes and white skin. The little old ladies in the city used to throw me Santeria signs as they thought I was some kind of witch.

But I was surrounded by new things and these great great people. And for the first time, these gorgeous men with skin darker than mine (which isn't hard to do) who thought I was the bombidity dizzle.

I am not a tiny person by any means. I'm 5'10 and am built fairly large. I mean I wear a size 9 ring and can't wear a woman's watch because my wrists are so big. When people say "I'm big boned," well I really am. Like a freaking Amazon.

So my whole life growing up, I was usually taller than most of the boys. And they usually preferred the cute petite cheerleader, blondie types to debu_amazonia.

But when I started school at that college, these men were attracted to me. Me?? They found my curves sexy and my thick muscular legs ... well hot. I still get hit on all the time when I go to visit my parents. Not everyone digs my special brand of sexiness, but those that do and get a chance to find out are really appreciative (and know exactly how to show it... heh)

I think it was this awakening that really made me feel comfortable in my own skin. I wasn't always a raging mass of hormones like I am sometimes now, but this was the beginning. I learned to perfect the art of kissing. I had sex with my boyfriend on a regular basis and realized just how much fun and how hot it could be. I felt sexy. They made me feel sexy.

But it was also here that I learned that people that are considered different well... weren't so different. They live and love and hurt and laugh just like the rest of us. Yeah, I guess it was jungle fever in a way, but it was more than that. It was experiencing life through another culture and race's eyes.

I had experiences I'd never been exposed to before and gained a new understanding (and big time sympathy sometimes) about what minorities really do go through. Dating a Black guy and seeing the hatred and the way that people scorned us. Or watching my girls get called "spics" and "beaners" while they were at a movie. Or going out with my Hispanic friends and learning their culture and how rich and wonderful it all was.

See, this was also pre-J-Lo era. Before the rest of 'Merica started realizing how sexy and hot curvy women were. Before Beyonce was once of People's sexiest women. Before Halle Berry was considered an actress and not just a background character for Spike Lee.

I remember when we had a bad storm and our lights and water were out in the co-ed dorm. My folks had a huge house then and told me to bring a gaggle of kids over to spend the night at their house. One Black kid asked me... "Are you sure? Won't they freak? What will your mom say when you bring a Black kid over to their house?"

I said, "she's gonna ask you what you want to eat."

It was here that I protested against Apartheid. We had a protest against oil companies for their business dealings in South Africa. Where I started writing my congressmen. Where I wrote papers in school and spoke out against injustice.

It was here that I grew as a person. The base for a value in my life that is very important to me.

It's more than just finding men of color truly sexy. I mean, I think men in general are just freaking hot.

It was about coming to the realization that while we are all so very different, when it comes down to it, these people were all individuals just like me. Some were assholes, some were wonderful and it didn't matter what color their skin was. But I realized that not everyone thinks that way.

I don't know why people are the way they are. I find all different looking men sexy. I don't know why someone would automatically exclude an entire race as their dating partner.

No wonder they are still single.

Merry June.

Ah. What Shall My Vagina Do

Ok. I have to clarify. No. There is no new boy; although there is another one that wants to be and damn he's just smokin hot. Not sure what I'm going to do with that just yet as eventually The Boy for Sex is moving to another state.

My fun weekend with sunburn was provided by the magnificent BFS. Funny that I got called a whore so much even though I've only seen one dude since before Thanksgiving. Sue me if I like to have sex. If you aren't getting it enough, that's your problem. We are planning a few fun things now that I'm going to be free for about a month.

Yes, that's right. A month.

My Zoe babe is going to her dad's for an entire month.

I'm going to miss her like crazy, but I know that she will have a great time up there. It's gorgeous. And she has a bazillion cousins and relatives to meet and hang out with. They always have a big family reunion, so I know she will love it. I also know I need some Debu_Zen time. Some good workouts, lots of swimming, cooking healthy ...

[aside]
Is it too late to name Zoe George? Because I've been eating clean for a few weeks now and grillin like a fool on my new G. Foreman grill my sis gave me. Now I want the one she just got with the removable grill panels.

Grilled veggies, steak, chicken ... mmmm

And all very simple. My crazy tight jeans slid on very nicely this morning.
[aside over]

My older sis has also offered to come help redecorate my apartment and maybe make it a makeshift two bedroom. Doesn't matter to me because it's not like I have parties at my house or people over that often. And when I do, they don't seem to mind the setup because usually we go swimming and hang at the pool next to my apartment.

I have been looking for two bedrooms in my area, but the ones that I can afford are too shady for me - old, no washer/dryer connections or just really run down and people hanging out in the parking lots.

I like my apartment and have always enjoyed living there. I know all my neighbors (and there is a cop across the hall who is now on the lookout for that crazy Chef bastard if he decides to get coked up and show up on my doorstep one day) And the location and school district is pretty great. (As my Z starts kindergarten in August already)

So we've been thinking of what we can do to make it a bit more Zoe friendly. We want to surprise her with a new bedroom for when she gets back. My sis's going to try to work with what I have, but has offered to purchase whatever we need (since she's kinda on the loaded side). I don't know how I got so lucky to have such an awesome family.

This week Zoe has been going to Vacation Bible School at my other sister's church. I have used the extra few hours to go swim and run errands and do stuff for my trip.

I'm in a good mood. Looking forward to my roadtrip with my girls and some time to reflect and get some R&R.

and some crazy sex. So if I don't update much, it's because I'm busy getting busy.

Be well my friends and freaks.

Werd Up Motherfucker

Ok, so now if you want to be a dick, you have to leave a comment. I turned the search function off so asshats like Yohn (Chef) can't come on here and leave the nasty messages and insults.

back at it I see

the "dad approval - check" comment was AFTER he asked me to marry him. He later on asked my dad, I think over the phone actually.

Fuck off, Yohn.

And, btw, when you leave all these long ass searches on my site it cuts them off before you finish them.

Why be such a chickenshit? C'mon. Step up and comment you fat freak! No, you are too much of a pussy.

Fucking asshole. Owes me money as well. Mooching lardass.

Bling or Blong?

this story came up the other night. I'm bored so I'll post it. Yeah. It's long. Read it or skip it - I don't care.

And yeah, asshole, it's about you and your freak ass.

Last year my birthday sucked* mainly for one reason. Yes, I got engaged. You'd think a girl would flip and be all excited about it, but this wasn't something magical and special that you wanted to tell your grandkids or friends or anything.

So, I had told Chef that my first husband proposed in bed - half jokingly, half seriously after 20 days of dating. No ring, but it was funny, sincere, sexy and kinda silly.

So I had said that if I ever got proposed to again, I wanted it to be story-worthy and not like... we just boinked like rabbits and he popped the question.

And I wanted a rock because I have some bling already and what's the point of a dink ring? But that if you couldn't afford it, buy me a simple band from Sears instead. I'd be just as happy with that. I'm not a gold digger, but go big or go home.

At this point, I'm in no rushed to get married (hell, I'm still not divorced) and I don't need some damn ring or promise or anything. I'm still not ready to settle down either.

So anyway, there had been some wishy washy plans for my birthday because he had been being like the Dick from Hell lately and couldn't get his "big plan" to work, since he kept fucking hinting at some private and special (HA!) dinner party and had already told every friend of mine as well. I just wanted to cancel because he was acting all aweird and dickish.

Not to mention, the douchebag kept asking me my ring size (yay... surprise - not! Note to boys - go find a ring she wears and measure it. don't fucking ask them) I like surprises, but hate when someone is too childish to keep the surprise and keeps hinting at it.

A few days prior my dad was in town and Chef hooked up tickets at this cool jazz concert that I knew my dad would like. Chef was all bugging (or tweaking maybe now that I look back on it) and I swore I thought he was going to propose in front of everyone at the Verizon. I had told him my family is old fashioned so if he ever did want to pop the question, he best ask dad first. He didn't propose and was still all jittery and weird in front of my dad.

So basically for my birthday, his plans all crapped out and I had to handle it - as usual. I hooked up dinner at this small mexican joint and then we went to go see this band, Riverfly. I had told him (after his stupid hints) that I didn't want a proposal at Riverfly in front of all my friends because I don't like big specticals, but proposing at the Jazz concert would have been cool because they were all strangers.

So, the proposal: That afternoon D-gurl and I hung out and went and got our hair did at J's salon. Then a bit of shopping. It was July and it was Africa Hot. A special brand of hot. My folks were staying at my sisters and Chef was hanging out there. But Chef was home all alone and they were out running errands.

So I go to pick him up, all sweaty and hot and having to pee. D-gurl is missing somewhere (she was in the kitchen hiding), and I was like... I have to pee. He makes me stay in the living room and says some canned Hallmark crap like he can't live his life without me or whatever. All I can think of is that's nice. I have to pee.

I'm sure it was a sweet sentiment, but when your bladder is aching from marathon shopping... well, you can't think past the impending flow. Need. Relief. Immediately.

So he hands me this ring from his pocket. No box (bad sign girls). Pretty diamond - not a rock, but not a chip.

And

It was broken. Like he had broken it off of the wedding band. Not cut, but like he ripped it apart (he later fessed up that he did break it off) And only fit my pinky (remember.. he asked my ring size - I wear a size 9 but this was a size 5.5)

And... was scratched. Badly. Like all over.

I was happy, but not estactic. I mean.. not quite like the movies or whatever, not romantic in the least (I smelled of sweat - bad!), but it was sincere. But it seemed pressured (not from me - AT ALL) and he was rushed and nervous, but in a guilty nervous way.

So. debu_ballsy asks where he got the ring from. He said Biddle something or other. I'm like... um, why would they sell you a [i]used ring[/i]? (I know my stones, folks, Biddle is top notch). He said it's not used but was scratched from being carried around in his pocket. That he meant to propose and ask my dad, but that he hadn't done it for some reason or other. So he carried around this ring in his pocket and the coins scratched it. Yeah. Right.

So I ask if we can go to Biddle and have it resized. He says he doesn't have the receipt because he mailed it to his mother for the insurance. And that we can't go there to have it refitted. Nice. So I get my big proposal and have a ring I can't really show off. Nor can I tell anyone in my family because he skipped dad. But he had told the world that he was going to propose, so they are all expecting it. Great.

I'm still thinkin that he hit the pawn shop at this point.

I finally get to pee, and made my kidneys sigh in relief.

Then at the party all my friends and the band ask to see "the ring." See. How cute is this. It's on my fucking pinky. Yay! No. My parents and family don't know. I can't tell them because jackass can't get shit right.

He tells everyone about the proposal and I'm all embarrassed and turning red. I'm shy like that and prefer low keyness in public. They even had some damn video camera on us - yes. Me. The one that hates having her picture taken.

He gets drunk and acts like a douchebag at the bar, and we fight and then when we get home, he fucking passes out on my bed (sans shower - ewwww fucking makes me want to hork cos he stinks), and I can't move his lard ass (all 300 lbs of it) so I end up sleeping on the living room floor (I don't have a couch) because he's snoring like no other. Yeah. I also have a few herniated disks in my back at this point so I'm fucking miserable and cold. Happy Freaking Birthday!

He later goes to take the ring to this other jeweler to be refitted and reset to something in white gold (since all my bling is platinum or silver or white gold and I don't wear gold gold).

So NE-WAY - a few months go by and long story short I get this IM from a girl I know (no names), and it's directed at him. She says she wants the rest of the money and feels that she has been ripped off and that she just wants the RING back.

I was like... oh really?

Turns out he promised to pay this woman in increments for the ring, but he never did. He gave her a few hundred bucks. Since he couldn't come up with the $300 to get the ring from the jeweler and waited too long, they still have it. Couldn't even give it back to her if I wanted to.

I think he owes that chick like $1000 or something.

I felt bad for her, but fuck if I'm going to pay her for it.

Lesson time folks:

What is the debu_mantra? Dodged a motherfucking bullet. It's 91,348,103,948 times better to be alone for the rest of your life than stay in a relationship built on lies. Listen to your first instincts about someone also, because usually you are correct!

Never. Again. Never. For the Debster.

*thank God some of my badass girls came out that night as that was about the only thing that saved me.

Cursing Mama

Ok, I lost my favs.

I realize now that I lost Bookie, Thorn, and Cursingmama as well as I can't remember their dang sites.

Not that I have had much time for reading. Too much work lately.

Worked until 8pm last night, then brought a document home and after Zoe went to bed read until 1am.

She's got Vacation Bible School all week, and my sister picks her up. I don't have to get her until 8:45. It's nice, but I don't want to spend all my free nights working.

Looks as if I may have to.

I can't wait for Saturday. Road trip eminent.

Today is one of those days

I just feel like smacking people upside their heads.

People just need to fuck off today.

Life is Good

that is all.

Fucking for days will do that to a girl.

In Person is Even More Delicious

I'm sunburned and exhausted but happy.

He's not sunburned, exhausted, but very happy.

It was a great weekend.

I miss Paige!

One week countdown. Then it's on like Donkey Kong.

The Phone is delicious

Sexy boys should grow on trees.

Hate to me is Pity

Ok, how sad is it that I'm not writing about the things that I should be? I am a good writer. I'm pretty funny sometimes.

But now I spend all this time addressing trolls who lurk openly and not so openly. It stunts my progress. And it's very unfunny.

No, I'm not addressing anonymous trolls (I actually like newbies), but these are people who have actually interacted with me from my past.

People like ex boyfriends, their lame prison friends, ex NY dudes (ok, dude) that I fucked, and his new homely ass girlfriend.

They come on here solely because they are lame as fuck and obviously have nothing better to do. I mean it's not like the internet has an end. Go somewhere else already.

They come on here and anonymously insult me. Like it hurts my feelings or something. I write and sound pissed, but really I'm calm. I don't get mad, I just reply. I write. And once I hit the send button, all is well.

Back in the day shit like this used to bother me. But then I generally will consider the source. Lame nobodys from NY. Loser, baby-dicked jailbirds and their new/old unsuspecting/unlucky women.

It's like fighting with a retarded infant. You can't feel anything but pity for them.

So. What does this mean to the average deb reader? (of which there are many from what I've seen on my control panel, but not many that comment)

This means I will have to beg my cyber friend Em to come back in and do a little locking down of this journal. To password it the fuck up again.

So, I'd love to keep the few loyal readers or new readers I do have. So pop me an email at debsterc(at)earthlink(dot)net. A few lovelies I already know where to find ya (sj, rachelalaska, and ms. sexypants)

Once I get the passwords shutdown, I'll be sure to let you back in.

Hope the tards find a life.

I miss you Ms. Bookie. Hope married life is treating you well.

Ahahahaha

You really are a sad pathetic piece of shit.

Damn.

Post or email if you want the new passwords. Because that action will be happening soon.

You fat fucks.

Goodnight.

Let's just see the freak show:

Hello Sirius Satellite Radio, Inc. aka Tranny girl. Your IP address is all up in my control panel. Hellooooo...

OrgName: WEST FLORIDA ELECTRIC, Address: 2903 JEFFERSON STREET
City: MARIANNA FL
aka fatuglymotherfucker Chef - dude was reading for HOURS

What the fuck are you going to do when I password this bitch back up? Talk about paranoid.

Yeah

Sorry.

My blog.

My rules.

And yes, bitch, it is all about me.

I'm going to miss you Paigey-Poo!

We Have A Weiner

Ok, roll call here.

Ex ugly cyberstalker boyfriend - check
Ex ugly boyfriend's friend he was gay for - check
Ex ugly boyfriend's new girlfriend or freak cell mate he called Cletus - check
Random asshole I fucked in NY - check
Random asshole I fucked in NY's new tranny girlfriend - check
Random asshole I fucked in NY's new tranny girlfriend's lawyer - check (*snort* on this one)

Enough freaks in debu_ville yet?

I'm bored. I can't sleep either. So I randomly check out my site stats.

Jed actually read my journal 79 times in May 2005. He visited here more than *I* did. He came in 5th in the top 10 viewers, but only behind the random bots that surf blogs. 466 hits of 106 files. Guess you don't get humped by your girlfriend enough.

Dude. Seriously. You're weird. Go slit your wrists if you are that bored.

I promise one day I will go back to being normal. In the meantime I'm just kind of wierded out by all the freaks.

If you would just leave me alone, I'd just leave you be. But no. I'm the crazy one? It was all dropped. I will never see any of you fucks again. But you come in here and shit on MY couch and I'm supposed to just let the turd lie there?

You're skeery. And ugly. Well except for Greg. He was kind of cute in a asshole way. But I'm sure I too have a nickname now. Like all of Chef's exes, they all have some Antichrist name. Could it be that your sick ass turns them into the Antichrist? (again. Red flag. Do not pass go.)

I think all women should be required to meet the ex of their new man. Because then they could compare notes and just see where the lies come in.

Awesome

That is awesome.

Awesome
Awesome
Awesome
Awesome
Awesome
Awesome
Awesome and
Awesome

Don't fuck with the master

View image

Sad when the good looking one is the fish.

Someone emailed me and asked what fatass Chef looked like. I may remove this later, because he was so putrid to look at, but (and try hard to hold on to your lunches) here goes:

Can you and your freaky weird stick toilet paper roll holders up their asses women stay out of my journal now, you douchebag?

Which cow is it? Kimberly S from where is it Buttfuck Tennessee or Kara the proofreader from Houston? Or is it Ms Dunn, since after all, you are her "boy toy." (emphasis on the 'boy' part of that equation - since his dick is the size of like a two year old.)

Yeah. And *I'm* the ugly one. At least I know how to flush and don't blame my kid when there's shit on the toilet seat, you disgusting pig.

Shall I continue?

Junior

Ok, so after swimming Zoe was starving. I was grilling some chicken and veggies but she couldn't wait.

So I tried something new for her. (oh and yay for Iron Kids bread without crusts!)

She promptly ate 3 peanut butter and banana sandwiches.

I have given birth to Elvis reincarnated.

P.S. Thank you lurker-esque person from BC for that note.

Phish... She's a Fish

Ok, so Zoe's always loved the water. A regular swimmer that one. Never been afraid. But when she was small, and I wanted to teach her how to swim, I couldn't because she had ear tubes aka "her special ears." (I learned to swim when I was three)

So yesterday we started our new summer routine, which is swimming every day after work. Good for her, some physical therapy for my back.

And she has some new floaties. She was timid at first and would only go around the edge of the pool, but then I had her hanging onto my back while I swam.

In one minute, she was swimming. I know with floaties, but still. It's a start.

So today we go and she's swimming like freestyle. Starting to kick underwater and gain up some speed. She starts wearing her goggles and looking underwater.

Then I'm sitting on the steps, doing some kick exercises, and she up and does a somersault underwater. Then again and again.

Even though my stomach has been queasy for a few days, we had a great day together.

I love that kid.

Cellmate Anyone?

More "searches" from Florida. The fun never ends:

"Funny that you would call us fat, since Yohn hated your fat sagging hooters and your nasty body--go eat yourself into another diabetic coma you disgusting whore"

Yohn, why can you and all your sad pathetic friends just stay out of my journal? If that truly is what you said about me, then dude, you need a mirror in the worst way, you fucking lying, mooching, drug-head, jailbird*.

Dude.... I bet you still can't even see your teeny tiny dick underneath all your blub. I have never dated a dude with a body as gross as yours or a dick as small as yours. I couldn't even stand to look at it.

I may not be Miss America, but at least I can see my feet and I have really nice breasts. There are plenty of men that don't find me appalling, and at least they will get to appreciate me. You on the other hand can not be found attractive by anyone. Especially if they get a glimpse at your saggy ass and your flab galore. 270 pounds my ass. You were definitely pushing 300+. There's nothing attractive about a snoring, binge-drinking, oaf.

All of HC make fun of you now because you used to brag about your dick being as big as a "baby's arm." And I'm sure you didn't catch the glances that Greg threw my way when you said that in front of us at that bar. We both knew the truth, and I'm sure he felt sorry for me. Sorry, but unless the baby in question is a mouse, then yeah, maybe that is correct. Your dick resembled an acorn. Seriously. A little tiny squashed acorn. No wonder you resorted to sticking toilet paper rolls up some chick's ass to get her off. (or was it your own ass - who knows?)

If that comment is from one of your cell mates in Florida, then I'm sure you told her all kinds of crazy shit about me. Honey, why don't you send me a proper email and not be just an anonymous troll? I found out from dating Yohn that his version of the truth and the actual truth are so polar opposite. He's delusional. Seriously. Just ask any of his exes.

Lesson here, children, that if you are dating a guy and he has nothing good to say about any of his exes, or has horrible nicknames for all of them, it should be a huge red flag. HUGE HUGE red flag. Like Run, Forest, Run red flag.

Go ahead and date that ugly asshole. He is crazy, is grotesque, and has the tiniest dick I've ever seen. He sucks in bed. And I'm so grateful and thankful that he's gone. So is Zoe and all of my friends. He's hideous.

He's also the only ex I have that I don't have fond feelings for. That should tell you something.

So, lessons here kiddos, if you resort to reading the journal of an ex of some guy because he says she's crazy, then you really need to consider the source. That one gives a new meaning to the word crazy. Why would you read this? You are just fucking weird. Just like those crazy bitches in NY. I will never see them again in my life, yet this tranny looking chick who dates this angry, bitter weirdo I fucked once comes here. As does he. What the fuck is wrong with you people?

How fucking creepy is that? Cyberstalkers!

*Yes, Yohn (Chef) just got out of jail and has been lurking in my journal for weeks - catching up on the six months he missed. I have seen his IP addresses and I can see what he's been reading - like for hours. I don't know why he was in jail, but all I know is what he's telling everyone the reason is is not true. I don't care either way. He's sick. And a sick pervert.

Where's Me Mojo?

I have felt a bit catawampus lately. Like my mojo is off.

There are so many sexy men. The flirting is off, but yet still somewhere. They are still after me. I'm a powerful flirt. But right now, it's at a low simmer. I think I may kiss someone soon just to see if the fire is still there.

And The Boy For Sex, well that's the one that got away. Our timing and distance could not be more off. I can't love a man who is shutting down. And not just from me, but from life. I can't choose complicated men like that anymore. Dr. Egypt was the same way. My life is complicated enough. I don't need explanations. I don't want emotionally unavailable men. I know they both loved me, but it can't be that difficult. I don't have the patience for it.

So now I guess I declare myself once again single. Weird.

But I'm also in need of some Deb time. In the worst possible way.

I'm about to get some as Zoe is headed off to her father's for a while. I feel like I am going to stop breathing without her near.

So I'm either going to be greatly social or abusively anti-social. I'd love to spend a weekend in bed. With a book, not a man.

I spent tonight with the mighty Paige and her chirrin. She's quiet but carries a big stick. She's me, but with tact. And Zoe adores her and her girls. Me too. I want to be her when I grow up.

I got to see the season premier of the new Six Feet Under. I felt lost but then it was right back at home.

I would shave my head if I could kiss Nate Fisher. Damn he's fine.

Cyberstalkers ... I still see you lurking. Just because you are silent, doesn't mean I don't know what pathetic pieces of crap you are.

If I'm as lame as you say I am, then why are you here? Fat ugly fucks.

Shhhh

All is quiet in debu_world.

Busy at work. Babysat this weekend. Making road trip plans.

And lots of flirting.

That is all.

Countdown to a big event.

All Work and No Favorites

My hard drive at work crashed. They are sticking it in a freezer to attempt a recovery. WTF?

Damn the luck.

All my dastardly pictures... lost.

And my over 200 favorites. Over 4 years worth. So I'll just have to get some new ones.

So if you want me to add you to my favorties, let a sista know!