Hill Country Gal

Saturday, February 2, 2008

Friday, February 1, 2008

So this dude that works for the State Police *UP* in Hamilton, N.J. has been going to church a lot lately.

You see, he's been *ahem* testing his faith.

That's right, baby.

And what better way to do so than to watch

on a

computer.

OK, I'm fibbing.

Not on HER^^^^^ computer.

Besides, ^^^ hard drive is nothing but

Instead, Thomas G. Findler was busted sneaking into Grace St. Paul Episcopal Church in the night over the last three weeks to look at pornography on a nun's computer.

The church "custodian chased him out, right into a police officer who happened to be nearby."

Prolly waiting for his turn on the computer.

Anyhoo, reached Thursday morning, Findler's father said his son was not home.

Hallelujah!

Bless me, for I have sinned....

.....and it was good!

:)

Wednesday, January 30, 2008

THE AMAZING

Post Secrets

Without doubt, this is one of the most amazing vids I have ever seen.

THE MYSTERY

So I had just finished taking my shower and

OK, back up.

Let me set the stage here.

I don't have one of those dresser drawer thingies for clothes. Well, I do, but it's upstairs and it's cold up there in the winter and ass-hot in the summer.

So, in the washer/dryer room, downstairs right next to the bathroom, there's a row of shelves.

And this row of shelves is where the clothes that are being worn that season get put.

To wit:

The Nurse's shelves.

My shelf.

Notice the order of my stuff on my shelf. R to L, bandanna, socks, the 2 bras I own, panties, sweat shirts and pants, jammies, and T-shirts.

So here's the routine.

Just before my shower, I grab a pair of panties and a T-shirt and beebop to the bathroom. I place them on the top of the commode shelf thingie and do the shower thang. I dry off, deodorize the pits, Q tip the ears, and reach for the clean clothes. Panties first, followed by the T.

Simple. Routine. Never varies.

Except

Last night, did the shower, deodorant, Q tip. Put the panties on, reached for the T.

Whoa!

My panties were down around my ankles.

Hmmmmmm

OK, pulled 'em back up over my hips and reached for the T.

Panties flopped to my ankles.

WTF???

Put my glasses on and held the panties up for inspection.

Right style? Uh huh.

Right fabric? Yeah.

Right color? You bet.

Right size? FUCK NO!

They were, oh, I don't know, about 6 or 8 sizes TOO BIG FOR ME!

So I put the T on, got another pair of panties (that fit) and headed to the living room where The Nurse was in his recliner watching something on TV.

I stood between him and the TV and held the HUMONGOUS white cotton bikini panties up in front of me.

The Nurse: "Holy shit! Are you gaining weight?"

Me: "Fuck off. Have you finally decided to explore your feminine side?"

The Nurse: "Nope."

Pause.

The Nurse: "But you can bet your sweet ass if I did those would be lacy & satiny."

BWAAAAAAHHAHAHAHAHHAAAAA!

So the question is, where the fuck did those big ass panties come from?

Now, theoretically, it's possible The Nurse had an orgy with 3-4 women and one of 'em washed, dried and folded their panties and put 'em in my pile and I just didn't notice. Them or my panties stack.

After all, when I'm in my office writing a post, I am intensely focused on nothing else.

As a matter of fact, Brad Pitt himself could be sitting on my face and I wouldn't notice unless his genitals were blocking my view of my monitor and then I'd just be like, "Yo, Brad, move the boys. Now!"

So the question remains, where the fuck did those big ass panties come from?

You know, you learn a lot about peeps by their underwear.

That's right, baby, you do.

Ever have guests that stay for a few days and you offer to wash their clothes for 'em?

I did.

Brother in law.

Black thongs.

OMFG!!

Black thongs.

BWAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAA!

:)

Any movie fans in the house tonight?

This vid is a compilation of movie themes composed by the great Basil Poledouris. See if you can name all the movies here.

Monday, January 28, 2008

AFTER SOTU

Somehow, this seems appropriate in the light of day after enduring Dubya.The.Vile.Prick's last ever (we hope) SOTU.

59%

blatantly stolen from my friend John Good at Left in Aboite.

Now take this test.

Obviously, I am a meat eater.

Friend or not.

If I'm starving, you will start to look might tasty to my hungry ass.

And you better NOT fucking taste like chicken, either, you hear me?

:)

Hey, guys, we survived SOTU.

WoooooHoooooo!!!

:)

Sunday, January 27, 2008

THE STATE OF THE UNION IS FUCKED

Yes, dudes & dudettes, once again it's SOTU time.

Only this time, it will be

last ever SOTU.

We're gonna be live blogging the ~~drunken~~ historic occasion and if you choose to join in, we're gonna be getting shitfaced.

We will be downing 1 shot of whatever your fave poison is every time Dubya The Asshole mentions certain words.

To wit:

STIMULATE

FREEDOM

DEMOCRACY

BLOW

Now, no SOTU ~~slurred~~ delivered by Dubya The Asshole is complete without an "Alamo Basement."

For those of you who aren't familiar with it, Welcome to Texas!

"Alamo Basement"

2 parts peach schnapps

1 part Ballerina vodka (or any vodka that comes in a 1/2 gallon plastic easy-pour safety bottle)

A crushed Vicodin*, and a splash of soda.

It's served through a funnel and accompanied by chanting.

* If the person ordering is such an anal stickler for historical accuracy that they say,
"There is no basement in the Alamo!," Substitute two Vicodin.
~courtesy of the marvelous Betty Bowers.~

Bonus.

If, by some miraculous cosmic event, Darth Cheney's latest pacemaker yells, "Fuck this! I'm outta here" during SOTU, we will pause in our festivities (momentarily) while you grab yourself a piece of ass.

Followed promptly by 2 shots of your fave drink, of course.

Are you ready to rumble?

Saddle up, baby.

Let's ride!

:)