Me No Share Cookies…or Cupcakes…or Anything

When I first started dating the Cupcake Dangler, I had to come out of the blog-closet to him:

CD: How long have you been blogging for?

Thoughtsy: About 3 years.

CD: Wow! So I have a lot of reading to do.

Thoughtsy: Awww…. That’s so cute that you want to read it. But you can’t. Not now. Maybe not ever.

To soften the blow, I offered to let CD pick his name. That was a mistake.

CD: I’ve always liked the name “David.”

Thoughtsy: That’s…so…boring. (Author’s Note: No offense to people named “David.”)

CD: How about Lance?

Thoughtsy: Isn’t that a Backstreet Boy? I mean, NSync. You’re not allowed to pick your blog name anymore. You can’t be trusted.

How could I be with a guy who possibly secretly liked boy bands?

Then…he bought me this cupcake. (Translation: I snuck it into his grocery cart, and he pretended not to notice.)

A cookie and a cupcake!

A cookie and a cupcake!

Two desserts. In one dessert! I thought the tables had turned in his favor.

Then he suggested we split it. Split. It.

Which is pretty much the same thing as…

  1. Calling me “fat.”
  2. Questioning my dessert-eating ability.
  3. Taking food right out of my mouth.

That’s when I first realized I made a horrible mistake. It was the beginning of the end for him.


Movie Monday: Son of a…

Recently, I went old school in my movie choices and watched the Garbage Pail Kids (Misty loves them). Somehow I managed to completely miss them while I was growing up. If you missed them, too, let me give you an image:

Garbage Pail Kids = Gross Cabbage Patch Kids

One pees his pants constantly; another farts constantly; one wipes her boogers all over everything…. You get the idea.

You know what this jean vest needs? A boogie. Right here.

You know what this jean vest needs? A boogie. Right here.

Here’s what I learned:

  • Gwyneth Paltrow was completely unoriginal naming her child “Apple.”  The girl in this movie is named “Tangerine.”
  • You can get locked up for being too gross, too tall, too short, too old, and too fat (Ex. Santa. Sorry, no Christmas this year).
  • Fashion in the 1980s was weird.

I also watched Tommy Boy. Let’s have a moment of silence for Chris Farley.

  • Brothers don’t shake hands. They hug.
  • Putting a fat man in a little coat is a bad idea.
  • If Housekeeping asks to jerk you off, it’s probably not Housekeeping.

Next week you’re in for a real treat because I lined up some guest bloggers to do Movies Teach Us posts all week! Woo-hoo!

Favorite Comment From Last Post: “I thought it meant to enjoy the chocolate in the closet.”—April


Chocolate Challenge: Sleep Around

Remember how I’m taking the Chocolate Challenge and doing everything the chocolate tells me to do?

Now my mom is joining in on the fun.

She came over for dinner, and afterwards…

Thoughtsy’s Mom: May I have one of your chocolates?

Thoughtsy: Sure. But save the wrapper. You need to do whatever it tells you to do.

Thoughtsy’s Mom: ::unwraps chocolate and pops it in her mouth::

Thoughtsy: What does it say?

Indulge in dark.

Indulge in dark.

Thoughtsy’s Mom: “Indulge in dark.” What does that mean?

Thoughtsy: It means…you have to sleep with a Black man.

Thoughtsy’s Mom: ?????

Thoughtsy: It’s ok. I can take this one for you.


Freshly Pegged: Wolves Are the New Lap Dogs

Haaaaaave you met Peg? I blog crush on her and her Reese’s Cups. (No, that’s not an euphemism.)

Have you heard about Peg’s series Freshly Pegged? That’s where I am today. Because you know who deserves to be Freshly Pegged?

Someone who laughs in the face of danger.

Someone who walks straight into a wolf’s den and says, “I’m not afraid of you.”

Someone who loves all things furry.

Me.

Favorite Comment From Last Post: “I once went on a date with a guy that I’m sure had his mother in his freezer at home. He spoke to me with his head tilted to the left and didn’t move his lips when he spoke. During the date I texted my BFF, ‘I know that he wants to wear my boobs for a hat, I do not want to be material for nipple beanies!’ I toughed out the comedy show and made a quick getaway. Thankfully he didn’t know where I live. Dating sucks.”—TrippyBeth


How to Spot a Psychokiller

One evening the Cupcake Dangler (CD) invited me to his house. I accepted…and then I panicked.

What if his super-polite gentlemanliness was all an act…and he was secretly a psychokiller.

After Googling the percentage of psychopaths in the population (1-2%), I decided to play the odds. CD was probably safe. And his house probably did not contain a secret torture room.

Nevertheless, I decided to be on guard and look for suspicious psychokiller clues.

CD: Would you like some wine?

What I Should Have Said: No, thank you.

What I Really Said: Yes, please. 

Translation: I’m afraid you’re going to kill me, and I want to be numb to the pain.

CD: Red or White? This bottle of white is already opened, but I can open the red if you prefer?

What I Should Have Said: Red, please.

Translation: I want to be sure you didn’t roofie the opened bottle.

What I Really Said: White, please.

Translation: Roofie, shmoofie.

CD: Can I give you the tour?

What I Should Have Said: Yes. Of the living room. Only the living room.

What I Really Said: Sure!

Translation: I will stab you with the wine glass stem if you try anything.

Favorite Comment From Last Post: “I’m with you; that peacock looks incredibly dangerous. Its beady eye is freaking me out right now.”—Sarah9188


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