Move over, Sandy. (Too soon?) America has a new sweetheart, and it’s Betty White. Her new show “Hot in Cleveland” just got picked up for Season 2.

This time, Betty gets to be the Blanche. Me OW.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lilo (girl needs to change that nickname, stat!) will be taking FIVE prescriptions with her to jail.

Don’t worry... I'm sure they're actually for Michael anyway.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Worst. Headline. EVERRRRRRRRRRRR.

I'd like to award this a giant honorary Fail Whale.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The drama with Mel continues: Oksana claims she secretly recorded him admitting to hitting her.

"That's what happens to douchebags," said the devil, as he removed his boot from Mel's ass.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kendra may have just released her book, “Sliding Into Home,” but apparently, her new hubby’s sliding intro strippers.

Hey! Have you tweeted yet today? (If you don’t know what this is about, please to clicky here!)

Follow @LivitLuvit, my favorite contestant in the @MTVTJ search for MTV’s first Twitter Jockey! #zyncmtvtj

(Feel free to modify, the above suggestion is just for your copy & paste convenience. Cause I’m good like that.)

The actual VOTING will start on July 7th, and it will be via Facebook. (I know, the irony…) Anyway! You will only get to have to vote once, so make sure we’re Facebook friends and I’ll send ya a reminder! WOOT!!!

And now back to our regular programming…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Understandably, MTV wanted to give their viewing audience/interwebbers a change to get to know us 20 candidates a little bit better. So, they sent us an impossibly long Q&A. I’m not sure if I should be proud or ashamed of what I put forth, but it is what it is… (here’s the second half).

LiLu’s Q&A with MTV – Part II

How do you go about getting followers? In your opinion, what is it about you that makes people follow you?

My preferred method for attracting followers has always been simple: “Try to write stuff good.”

Where that fails, I go on the offensive, sharing intimate and humiliating details from the dark corners of my world that no self-respecting person ever would, generally with a healthy side dish of profanity.

And yes, I’ve already puffy-painted my handbasket to Hell. There’s an empty seat or two on my bus if you’d like to come along. There’s going to be a karaoke machine and we’ll all be drinking tequila.

How does pop culture influence your life? What about pop culture do you love/hate?

Pop culture, which in this day and age (to me) means awesomely bad reality TV, is my absolute favorite of everything that ever existed. I get more and more excited as it grows increasingly trashier with each new show. There is no program so terrible I won’t watch and thoroughly enjoy it. Bret Michaels, Tori Spelling, Janice Dickinson, the Bad Girls Club, teens who are pregnant, teens at fat camp, and my greatest pop culture love of all, Jersey Shore. The endless blog and twitter fodder they all provide is simply priceless.

Even better than these blissfully entertaining atrocities are the comedic geniuses who have full-time careers mocking them. Joel McHale, CALL ME. Smooches.

What inspires you to publish yourself in the online social media space?

A blatant need for attention, and also it helps to get the voices out of my head.

Meeting new people is pretty okay too, I guess. (And by “pretty okay” I of course mean my favorite part of life, ever.)

Is there such thing as TMI? When do you say when? From your personal experience, describe an instance of someone you know (or follow, etc) going over the line in the digital realm.

As the creator of blogland’s TMI Thursdays, I’d have to say I don’t really believe in “saying when,” on the internet or otherwise. Life’s much more interesting without things like boundaries and filters and shame.

For me, the only thing I can’t stand hearing about online is schmoopy relationship crapola. Look, I get that we all need to shout from our respective rooftop every once in a while… but on the reg, notsomuch. Oh, you love your boyfriend/hubby/Uncle Stan who’s not actually your uncle but calls himself that while he tries to grab your butt? That’s great. Here’s your medal. You are SO UNIQUE.

/rant.

How do you feel the role of the TJ will differ from that of the traditional VJ? How are they the same?

TJ was bigger than VJ. You know… around.

Wait. I think I misunderstood the question. Do over?

Ahem. I feel like both a TJ and a VJ bring information to the public, but the benefit of being a TJ is that it would be so much more of a two-way conversation. Mano-a-mano, and all that jazz. Me likey.

Who are your favorite Tweeps and Twitterers online? Why?

Well, I’m pretty sure it’s not actually Mickey Rourke, but whoever’s running that timeline is hands down my favorite of all time ever Amen. … They also owe my boyfriend an explanation in regards to my sudden and urgent desire to own a cockatoo.

Also, Kenny Powers (NSFW) always makes me snort awkwardly, usually in public. I’ve gotten really good at making it look like a sneeze, albeit a messy one. (New season of Eastbound and Down September 26th, wahoooooooo!)

Why are you perfect for this job? What makes you the ideal candidate?

I am, quite frankly, the bee’s knees. The cat’s pajamas. The dog’s tuxedo. The ostrich’s ascot.

In all seriousness, my favorite thing in life is interacting with people; turning strangers into friends, for lack of a less corny way to put it. With this job, the opportunities to do that would be endless, and frankly, it makes me a bit moist in the pants.

If you are selected as the new TJ, what would be the first thing you tweet? What aspect of the job would you be most excited about?

The first thing I tweet would probably have the words “yeah” and “bitches” in it, except that I’m not sure if I’d be allowed to say “bitches,” but “suckas” is so 2003, you know? Oh, well. I’d make do.

I couldn’t possibly pinpoint what the best thing about the job would be… NYC? MTV? Interwebbing all day and getting PAID for it? Being able to sing along to Fergie’s “Glamorous” and not get depressed?

SIGN ME THE EFF UP, YO.

What would you want to accomplish if you got this job? What would be your key goals?

To show the world you don’t have to be cool to be cool.

Wait, did Aziz Ansari already beat me to that? CRAP.

What would you do with the money you make?

Reenact the Ferris Bueller parade through the streets of Chicago, Matthew Broderick and all.

I recall… Central Park in fall… you tore your dress, what a mess…

If you could meet one current music artist, movie star or TV celebrity through this TJ job, who would it be? Why?

Hmmm. Probably John Hamm, because he’s on my “celebrities I’m allowed to bone” list.

Or Chelsea Handler, although I’m pretty sure within minutes of being in the same room together, something would be on fire and we’d be riding around on alpacas while Chuy made us martinis.

I’ll go with Option B.

Predict the future! What kinds of technology trends do you think will affect this job? How do you think services like Twitter will evolve? What is going to be the next big social technology?

Scientists have proven that within five years… the internet will be able to fly.

Put on your party pants!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

P.S. Have you heard about 20sb’s latest Blog Carnival, “Friends and Money”? You could win $100- just participate and send them your link by tomorrow night! More deets here.

Hey! Have you tweeted yet today? (If you don’t know what this is about, please to clicky here!)

Follow @LivitLuvit, my favorite contestant in the @MTVTJ search for MTV’s first Twitter Jockey! #zyncmtvtj

(Feel free to modify, the above suggestion is just for your copy & paste convenience. Cause I’m good like that.)

The actual VOTING will start on July 7th, and it will be via Facebook. (I know, the irony…) Anyway! You will only get to have to vote once, so make sure we’re Facebook friends and I’ll send ya a reminder! WOOT!!!

And now back to our regular programming…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Understandably, MTV wanted to give their viewing audience/interwebbers a change to get to know us 20 candidates a little bit better. So, they sent us an impossibly long Q&A. I’m not sure if I should be proud or ashamed of what I put forth, but it is what it is… (here’s the first half).

LiLu’s Q&A with MTV – Part I

Give us some background on where you grew up (or where you spent the majority of your life). What about your hometown do you love/hate?

I had the luxury of growing up in Suburbia Shrewsbury, Massachusetts. The greatest thing about living there was definitely the sense of community. Like, when I was in elementary school, we needed a playground. So the whole town came out and volunteered their time to build us this enormous beast of a thing where you could play “Don’t Touch the Gravel” for DAYS. It was magical.

And then, a decade later, they decided it was giving kids splinters, and tore it all down.

So, that’s pretty much the ‘Bury in a nutshell.

Though we did get to underage drink in Chinese restaurants. And the birth control pill was invented there…

Hmm. Let’s call it a wash.

What would a move to NYC mean for you and how would it impact your life?

Moving to NYC would mean an endless diet of Gray’s Papaya hot dogs, learning how to stay up past midnight again, and regularly Skyping with my cats back here in DC.

Wait, scratch that last one. Um, I want to see the Empire State Building! Yeah, that’s the one… *hides*

NOM.

If you were to name your biggest flaws, what would they be?

I drink. I swear. I’m clumsy. I use (and adore) words like “toodles” and “poppycock.” I’m addicted to cheeseburgers. I’m probably a little insane. I have the worst case of “Foot in Mouth” the doctors have ever seen.

Oh, wait. Isn’t this the one where I’m supposed to say something that sounds negative, but is actually a positive?

Uhhh, scratch all that. I’m such a perfectionist! It’s totally a burden! I do work (said Rob & Big style) in my sleep, son!

Describe a few of your funniest and/or most embarrassing moments.

Well, there’s a few hundred of them on my blog. Since that’s pretty much what I do.

But let’s see… there was the time I apologized to an advertisement of Joy Behar’s show at a crowded bus stop. The time I surprise trust-falled (a la Tosh.0) a dozen unsuspecting tourists on the National Mall. The time my cat farted down my throat, and as revenge, I dressed our “family” up in holiday costumes for last year’s Christmas card.

Never a dull moment around here, I tell ya.

When and why did you decide to sign up for a twitter account?

Dude, I’m Gen Y. Twitter is MADE for my getting-shorter-every-day attention span. Why say something in eleventy billion words when you could do it in 140 characters?

*whispers* Plus, it’s kind of totally where I get my news from. Don’t tell anyone.

Do you feel like your online persona is any different from your real life persona? How and why?

Honest answer? Not a bit. Not even the tiniest iota. Ask anyone who’s had the experience (and I choose that word carefully) of meeting me in person: I am the very essence of “what you see read is what you get.”

I’m an immediate hugger, an over-sharer, a bit of a mess… and yes, I’d love to grab a beer sometime.

Why do you think some people take on different personas online?

Clearly, they weren’t hugged enough as children.

I keed, I keed. But it’s not really something I can comprehend, quite frankly. I could never be anyone other than myself. It’s a helluva ride being me.

What are the websites other than twitter and facebook that you can’t live without? Why?

Dlisted, Jezebel and Warming Glow for my snarktastic pop culture needs (mmmm, sarcasm… tastes so good), and The Bloggess/Ask the Bloggess for my funny bone.

Also, every single one of the “Cheezburger” sites: Failbook, Engrish, Lolcats… I love it all. I also use the word “nom” far more often than any grown ass woman has a right to.

Are there any new social media apps/websites etc. that you are excited about? Describe.

I’m honored to be part of the 20 Something Blogger Management Team, which is a group of almost THIRTEEN thousand- you guessed, it, 20-something bloggers, and it’s basically so awesome it must be built out of unicorn farts, aka magic. If you ever feel lost on the internets, trust me, just go there. It’s like the YMCA for gay dudes in the late 70s, only, you know… for bloggers.

That got weird.

What kind of new social media app would you love to see or invent if you could?

Teleportation.

What the French, Google? You give me the capacity to e-meet all these awesome people from all over the world, and then I can’t go grab a drink with them? Can’t bear hug them? Can’t make them feel uncomfortable when we’re getting lunch in a busy restaurant and I announce FAR too loudly that I put my underwear on inside out that morning?

Get on that already.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

More coming tomorrow, but how’m I doing? Are they getting the real LiLu, or what?

xoxo

P.S. Have you heard about 20sb’s latest Blog Carnival, “Friends and Money”? You could win $100- just participate and send them your link by Wednesday! More deets here.

Liza Minnelli, living legend, aspiration for drag queens everywhere, and putting Beyonce to shame with her “Single Ladies” rendition in SATC2.

One of my most favoritest crazy birds in the world. From Arrested Development to making Michael Jackson the best man at her fourth wedding to her brilliant Snickers commercial with Betty White, this diva just won’t quit, and I freaking love it.  

But last night on Kathy Griffin’s premiere, the montage of Liza’s laugh… well… I guess you just had to be there. Nonetheless, this chick has been crazypants through the ages, and I just plain adore her for it.

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Britney Spears, just plain being Britney Spears.  

She hasn’t even done anything that batshit lately, but let’s be honest, she’ll forever have an honorary place on this list for our generation. Like 9/11 and Katrina, so too will this horrifying image forever be etched into our minds:  

Oh, Brit Brit. Please stop procreating. Xoxo, LiLu

Although apparently she has just been accused of “physical harassing” of one of her bodyguards… by nakedness.   

Never a dull moment with you, chica.  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  

Kelly Bensimon, Real Housewives of New York.  

This one can’t really be explained in words. Mostly because she doesn’t know how to use them. At least, not in coherent sentences.  

Listen, lady friend… when Bethenny Frankel pities you, you’ve pretty much hit rock bottom. But never fear… I’m sure Dr. Drew’s already got a room prepped for you on Celebrity Rehab. 

Wow. Just… WOW. 

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Megan Fox, Passion Play, kicked off of Transformers, and new possessor of a “tribute to Mickey Rourke” tattoo.  

I almost didn’t include her, because I’ve always felt she’s so desperately trying to be old-school Angelina (you know, Billy Bob Thornton boning, vial-of-his-blood carrying, make out with your brother Angelina). But then I saw faux-Mickey’s tweet re: the tattoo, and frankly, it’s worth it just to share that:  

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Miley “I’m Not Trying To Be A Slut” Cyrus, Hannah Montana, musical artist, and posing all sexy-like with her dad.  

It's Miley!

“I’m really comfortable with my body,” she says. “I feel more comfortable dressing with a little less, which is just how I’ve always been. Now I’m able to do that a little more freely and, also, I’ve just grown up to be this way too.”  

via Zap 2 it  

At least it's a onesie?

That’s fine, little lady. I honestly have no problem with a gal wanting to whore it up every once in a while; every girl has her “promiscuous year” in college. (Except me, Mom. What’s a penis?)  

All I’m asking is that you OWN it. Go all Xtina: The Dirty Years on us! Stop worrying about what everyone thinks and just admit you’re slutting it up for a while, even if it is only musically.

Can’t cheat on daddy, after all.  

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Danielle Staub, Real Housewives of New Jersey.  

Every week, I think this crazy ass bitch can’t get any crazier. And every week, bless her heart, she proves me so very, very wrong. To the point where I took a “Which Real Housewife of New Jersey are you?” quiz, and B told me, quite seriously, that if I got Danielle… we were through. 

Honestly, I wouldn’t even blame him. (No worries, I’m Dina, apparently. Though I kind of see myself as more of a Caroline. *shrugs*) 

Just watch as much as you can stomach… you’ll get the idea.

Danielle, I hereby crown you Crazy Ass Bitch of the month. We salute you!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  

Honorary mentions: Speidi and the Gosselins, who have blessedly somehow disappeared from the news lately. Maybe there’s hope for your souls yet!  

…NAHHHHHHHHHH.

~Hey! Are you reading this in a Reader? That’s cool… don’t want the man to see you being lazy, for sure. But do me a wee favor and click here, just for a second, if you don’t mind… *vague and mysterious ftw*~

So! My (23 year old) baby sister joined the rat race a few weeks ago. Though we both built character worked through college, she was in restaurants and bank teller-ing, so she’s never had the full-fledged “Office Space” experience before.

It’s been beyond hilarious for me to witness her (via many gchat conversations) discover all the horrible things that come along with the cubicle farm environment, like crotchety old coworkers, bathroom trials and tribulations (the stand-off!!!), pretending to looking busy, avoiding getting dragged into a “lunch group,” etc. etc.

One of the biggest things we both despise about working with people-we-didn’t-choose in a professional setting is, of course, the small talk.

OH GOD, the small talk. If I could banish its existence from this world, I would. I would make everyone’s mouth disappear the moment they tried to talk about the weather, or their kid’s birthday party, or their irritable bowel syndrome.

It would be magical.

But alas, I have no unicorn to speak of, and so we must suffer through it.

Anyhoo, as she was mocking her coworkers yesterday for their endless droning on about insignificant stuff ‘n things, the following conversation ensued…

Lil Sis: seriously, they’re talking about fucking BJs right now
  like literally what things cost

me: who!

Lil Sis: work people

me: *silence*

Lil Sis: You can get 14 bars of Lever soap for like $7!

me: OH
  oh my god.

Lil Sis: RIGHT?

me: um… NOT what i thought you meant when you said BJs.

Lil Sis: ooooo hahahahaha

Apparently, I’ve been away from Massachusetts so long, I’ve forgotten that BJ’s can also mean this:

I kill myself.

Also, now I’m kind of wondering about what they cost.

And not the wholesale kind.




P.S. Thanks to DC Blogs for the shout-out to my neon orange Jersey Shore tribute/condemnation yesterday!

(I’m probably bipolar.)

Okay, people. I know you want your Vegas. Get the fuck ready, cause I’m not holding back. 

My ten favorite most memorable things that I wish I could scrub from my brain with a razor blade, a la Vegas… 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

1. Whenever Maxie, RS27, Lbluca77, Shine, Mary and I are in a room together, someone’s going to get hurt. (Pride not included.) Also, this only makes me love them more, which is scientifically impossible but still true. 

RS27’s arm after battling Maxie’s curling iron: 

Maxie managed to keep a picture of her head wound from being taken, but… 

And finally, this is my own UDI (Unidentified Drunk Injury): 

That’s what happens when you snuggle Maxie too hard, I suppose.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

2. Doing a party dress fashion show (fashion show! fashion show! fashion show at LUNCH!) that involved me changing multiple times in what I did not know was an entirely see-through closet. In a hotel room full of people. And none of them TOLD me. 

Also see: me asking Shine to zip up one of said dresses. “No, really. Go ahead. Just pinch me if you have to! PINCH IT!!! 

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3. Finding these shirts in Wisconsin: 

Words clearly not necessary.

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4. Discovering the art of fake retweeting friends on twitter. See Exhibits A through E. Okay, and F. (Btw that last one totally backfired on her, because some dude DM’d her “Not to be dirty… But the footjob tweet was f*cking hot! ” 

Ew ew gross get me a shower holy vomit in my hair GROSS. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

5. Sharing raunchy sex stories in one of the hotel rooms with some two dozen ladies… and RS27. 

That's about right.

My own submission? Walking in on my grandparents doing it. 

God, I’m great at parties. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

6. Surprise Trust-Falling Rachel into the pool. And by trust-falling, I mean surprise dive-bombing. She’s a sport, y’all. I did at least asked if she minded getting wet first. I did not, however, wait for an answer before shouting “TWSS!!!!!!” and launching our bodies into the air. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

7. Friday night dance party was the most magical thing ever. Two things everyone from Vegas now knows about me: 

A. If you put me in the center of the dance circle, the grand finale of my repertoire will probably be flashing the girls at my love bunnies, Katelin and Vixations. 

B. If a guy from a group of creepy straight boys passive aggressively unpops the collar of our favorite gay because he has the jealousies, I will bitch slap him upside his head. That is all. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

8. Maxie, RS27 and I dancing through the hotel singing the Always Sunny Dayman and Troll Toll songs from start to finish. Like, a dozen times. How did we not get beat up, bozos??? 

“Stage freeze!” “Don’t SAY stage freeze, just do it!!!” 

This is how you dooo iiiiiiiiiiit. (This is how you do it.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

9. Face-licking the hell out of Chelsea the moment I met her. I mean full-on tongue, to the ear, people. AND YOU ALL THOUGHT I WOULDN’T DO IT. 

Also, she rocks. See? 

No drop of beer shall go undrunk! Undranken? My head hurts.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

10. Zomg, I’m still hungover. I quit. Here’s a bunch of pretty pictures. 

We're on a PLANE!!!

Proof that Maxie is an elf.

Proof that I need a helmet.

Look! I'm normal sometimes!

Jay kaying, jay kaying. Never normal.

Adam Lambert, I mean RS27's boyfriend, I mean Ben.

Apparently, Ben thinks I should inform you guys that this was a theme party. LIKE YOU DON’T WEAR THAT EVERYDAY. Not buying it.

GIVE ME YOUR HAIRRRRRRRRRRRR (ps love you Katelin!)

Bottle service. YES WE ARE THAT BADASS. Bishes.

Finally, I have my own Ebony to my Ivory!

Me OWWWWWWWWWWWWW.

Airport french fry breakfast. And yes, my shirt says "Bayside High Technology Team." You may judge me for neither.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Everyone who came, it was a blast meeting all of you. I only wish we’d had more time and less tequila. 

LOVE YOUR FACES. 

Now excuse me while I go throw up.

UPDATE: Yes yes yes Maxie has surrendered a picture of the head wound!!! Here it is in all its purple glory…

You know how sometimes after that fourth beer, people will accidentally say something that reinforces a known stereotype, and at first everyone gasps in horror (if strangers are around- I mean, what?), but then someone goes “Well, stereotypes exist for a reason, after all,” and at some point in history that became an entirely valid argument for being just a little bit racist or bigoty or whatever your judgment of choice is?

Well, I would like to extend this same courtesy to clichés.

Look, clichés exist for the same reason we’ve decided to consider all Jews funny, and all Latinos passionate lovers with pimped out Civics, and all white people as horrible dancers (unless an 80’s beat is involved and The Sprinkler is a bona fide dance move).

Partly because it’s just plain funnier that way… but most of all, it’s EASY.

Think about it. You go to a new place for the first time, you don’t know what the hell to do. So, you go dance on the piano key steps of FAO Schwarz, or have dinner on top of the Space Needle, or visit the Kendall Jackson winery in Napa, or lead a parade through the streets of Chicago singing “Twist and Shout”.

Wait, maybe not that last one.

My point is, what’s so wrong with these things? Just because millions of people do them every year, we’re supposed to look down on them? It’s so WAY TOTALLY COOLER to come home and brag about how you got off the beaten path and found this local bar with a local band playing and and drank the local beer the local bartender recommended and got to talk with the local people, man!

Well, you know what? You were probably annoying the hell out of them, and they all made fun of you as soon as you walked out the door.

(Really, you can’t blame them. You *were* wearing a scrunchie.)

All I know is that when I’m in Vegas in nine days, we will take a totally cheesy picture in front of the Bellagio fountain. We will scream “What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, except herpes!!!” about eleventy billion times, and someone will most likely get married by an Elvis impersonator.

And that’s? Okay.

It’s okay to go out in Adams Morgan and end up at a Jumbo Slice every once in a while. Hell, ride a segway around Penn Quarter, for all I care. Do whatever makes you happy! Life is too damn short to not see the ball drop in Times Square or show your boobs at the Mardi Gras, just because zillions of people have done it before.

Because after all, is there ANYTHING more cliché than some hipster or otherwise pretentious d-bag saying, “Oh, that is so cliché” *condescending hand wave*  ?

I think not.

Bee tee dubs, a very special lady is going to war with a very assholey brain tumor today. Please head over and wish her the best of luck in her fight against Wallace!!!!!

People who need to feel like they have to have their finger on the pulse of every social movement, and everyone else needs to KNOW about it.

People who start 75% of their sentences with “my boyfriend…”

People who don’t say thank you to the bus driver.

People who stand on the corners of busy intersections while commuters struggle to get by.

People who never, ever admit when they’re wrong.

People who speak English LOUDER at those who don’t understand it.

People who the world is always “happening to,” instead of making things happen.

People who have what should be gchat conversations on twitter.

People who put their bags on the seat next to them on a crowded bus or train.

People who are cheap, especially tipping. Zero exceptions.

People who decide to “borrow” personality from others, rather than finding their own.

Just in case anyone hasn’t gotten the memo that TMIT has come to a sad but triumphant end, I figured I’d give you a touch of it today so that no one’s world was completely shattered.

Consider this your TMI methadone, you crazy addicts.

At brunch last weekend…

Me: Lex, why don’t you share that tiny insignificant detail from your childhood that you failed to mention to any of us before? You know, the one about your dad you JUST told me this week?

Maxie and Katie look at her quizzically.

Lexa: Well, when I was little, one of my dad’s part-time jobs was as building maintenance to this block of apartment homes. It wasn’t exactly a great neighborhood, but not terrible. I would tend to tag along on the weekends as he snaked sinks, fixed wires, etc.

Well, one weekend, a domestic assault ended in murder and guess who he brought along to clean it up? There was blood and papers and just crap strewn everywhere. The best part, or worst part? Is he let me take shit from the apartment. I got a coveted copy of Guns ‘n Roses, use Your Illusion II.

I still listen to it occasionally and thank that poor woman for dying as I rock out to “You Could Be Mine.”

*Silence*

Katie: Your dad brought you to a MURDER SCENE??

Lexa: Yeah. That was kinda fucked up. I forget about it… and then I’m like… oh yeah. That happened.

Me: Wait wait wait. I have an idea. Maybe this could be the answer to why you can’t deal with bathroom humor!!! Don’t people empty their bowels when they die??

Maxie: They do! That’s it! Lex, was the body covered in feces?!?

Me: It’s okay, you’re in a safe place now. Finally, we’re getting somewhere!

Lexa: You idiots. The BODY wasn’t still there!

Maxie & me: There, there. *stroking hair* It’s okay now. We’ve got you. We’ll get you to make a fart joke yet!

Katie and Lexa shake their heads pityingly.

I love my friends.

I’m going to be a bit MIA while I rock this whole jury duty thing, but I figured I could give you a taste of how my weekend was. My dear friend cavy was in town, so I figured the only thing to do was throw her a party.

This is how that went.

Actually, this is just the tiniest TASTE of how that went. Let’s just say there will be the vlog to end all vlogs tomorrow, inspired by Tosh.0’s “surprise trust falls.”

You’ll see.

Trust me.

(Thanks to Berto and Lex for the image credit. You can split responsibility as Axe Murderer’s sponsor when she enters AA.)

So, I have a court date on Monday.

And no, shockingly, it is not for indecent exposure, or public intoxication, or getting thrown out of The Royal Palace (NSFW).

Point A: We didn’t get “thrown out”. We were just asked to kindly STOP DANCING up a storm… or leave. Guess our moves were too hot for the strippers.

Point B: Mom, the Royal Palace is a church. Or a library. Swear. Don’t click that.

No, my friends, rather, I have been called to serve my fair city in the way of:

JURY DUTY.

Bum bum bum. *triangle clang for emphasis*

And here’s the thing. Me being me and all, I totally want to go all Liz Lemon with this shiz. Partially to ensure I don’t have to go back the next day, but mostly because hot damn, wouldn’t it be fun to fuck with an entire room of people??

My goal is to make the judge blush at least once.

So, here are the options I’ve come up with so far…

1. Wear a helmet. Preferable of the My Little Pony or Hello Kitty stylings.

2. Bring Murray draped around my shoulders and tell them I have separation anxiety if they try to take him.

3. Turn every question into a “That’s What She Said” joke. And I do mean EVERY…

“Are you racist?”

“That’s what she said!!!!”

(So wrong. I know.)

4. Dress like a Daytona stripper who shoplifts from Fashion Bug.

5. Wear Green Man.

6. Pretend I’m a contestant trying out for American Idol whenever I’m on the stand. Go-tos will be Rick Astley, Pants on the Ground, and “Ambalamps.”

7. Speak only as a white girl doing an impression of Billy Cosby.

8. Pencil in a Frida unibrow, and repeatedly announce that the carpet AND the drapes match the ceiling, while wiggling said brow suggestively.

9. Act exactly like Bill Murray from “What About Bob?”

10. Lizz myself.

And so, dear bloggy cohorts, I need your votes / even better ideas to make it happen.

ARE YOU READY FOR ME, DISTRICT OF COLUMBIA??? I CAN’T HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAR YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

***Alright, folks, you know the rules. Join us all in humiliating the crap out of yourself every Thursday by sharing some completely tasteless, wholly unclassy, “how many readers can I estrange THIS week??” TMI story about your life. Or hell, about someone else’s!

Steal this button and put it in your post just by copying and pasting the html code in the box below, or just link back to the hub with this link, so your readers can read ALLLLLLL the TMI glory, and I’ll make sure to link to you.***

<a href="http://www.livitluvit.com/category/tmi-thursday" target="_blank"><img src="http://i556.photobucket.com/albums/ss5/Livitluvit/tmithursday.jpg" border="0" alt="TMI Thursday" /></a>

Now get ready, my darlings, for the ever popular, yet gravely feared, TMI THURSDAYS…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It is time… for the tenth installment of TMI Thursday, a la Post Secret! If you’ve been living under a rock and don’t know what Frank Warren’s GENIUS idea is, click that link to be amazed. People from all over the world send him anonymous postcards, of anything they want, so long as it represents their own personal secret. And that’s what we’ve decided to do here, from our OWN little bloggy community… TMI style. (Click here for all the past entries.)

Please continue to send your picture TMITs in, any time. You can use the top secret anonymous email account to send it in (Gmail, username tmithursday, password tmit1234), and send them to me at heylivitluvit at gmail dot com. I suggest the free photo editing website Fotoflexer to make it super duper easy.

All righty, then. And away we go…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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Other awesomely bad TMIs this week…

Stephanie’s TMI Thursday: For Serious, I Am Too Busy Gagging To Even Come Up With A Decent Title For This One

Insomniac Lolita’s TMI Thursday : The Incident Down Under

That Kind of Girl’s TKOG Whose nasal hygiene is a marvel of prestidigitation (TMI Thursday)

Wendy’s TMI Thursday: Would you, could you, in a tree?

grilledcheeseandketchup’s TMI Thursday #2: Sham-poo

miss*H’s TMI Thursday: The one with the cottage cheese you would not like to eat!

LivingWicked’s TMIThursday: What? You Didn’t Get The *gag* Memo?

Adam L’s TMI Thursday: The Joys of Running, Part IV: I Can’t Hold It in Anymore!

Spleen’s So THAT’S where all the food went. Evil roommate.

Travis’ TMI Thursday: The First Person To Say, “Sounds Like You Had A Shitty Day,” Is Going To Get Donkey Punched.

Sebastian’s What men do in the shower, or ‘Seb sells out and gets naked on camera’

Cammy’s TMI Thursday: The Time I Crapped My Pants

Heather’s TMI Thursday: Poopie Party

Tricia’s TMIT: That Time I . . . Cried . . .

Amy’s TMI Thursday: To Wax or Not To Wax

Manderz’s TMI Thursday

Torn’s TMI Thursday – many small TMI confessions

Wonderful’s TMI Thursday: I have to pee

Cleveland Poet’s An autbot almost threw up on me or TMI Thursday

amber murphy’s TMI Thursday: isn’t that a ring on your finger?

ClaireMontgomeryMD’s tmi thursday: leftover pot roast

Simply T’s TMI Thursday: Bathroom Wars – Men Vs. Women

Vittoria’s TMI Thursday: Road Trip!

Vixations’ TMI Thursday: Group Masturbation

Brainless’ WAAAYYYY TMI Thursday

MJenks’ TMI Thursday: This Shit Has Got to Stop

Aurora’s TMI Thursday: Misplacing the V-Card

Hey kids, it’s time for a third round of responses to B’s new advice column!

(Past editions here, or for more B, check out “The Shiz My Boyfriend Says” here.)

Things to know:

• I have in no way read his responses. Like at all. I lit-rally just copied and pasted here. So, uh… yeah. This should be interesting.
• I’m scared. (See above.)

And away we go!

Spleeness:  If someone’s new date takes them to a surprise concert, should their musical taste be considered, thus ruining the surprise?  Another question: how would guys celebrate Valentine’s day if they could do it anyway they wanted? Would it still involve chocolate?

I think a surprise concert date is a pretty cool idea.  So 10 points to him!  However, if the actual concert blows and his musical tastes are awful that’s a quick minus 9 points.  Clearly a net gain.  However he could have enjoyed the same benefits if he bought you a nice bottle of wine/movie and not disclosed his love of American Idol’s Fantasia.  If a guy could celebrate Valentine’s day any way they wanted they would not celebrate it at all. Fact. And that non-descript day would probably involve beer rather than chocolate.

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Amanda: If a guy is telling a girl that he loves her, misses her, wants to be with her, but the guy is dating another girl, what IS his deal? Is he worth waiting around for?

I am afraid the obvious answer here is NO!  If he loves this girl, misses her, and wants to be with her he WOULD be with her.  That said, I clearly know nothing about your specific situation.  Perhaps there are mitigating factors that suggest you should be a little patient.  But I doubt it.

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Nikki: if a girl was going to propose to her boyfriend, what kind of proposal would knock his socks off?

I wonder what the protocol of a woman to man proposal is?  For instance, should she call up his mom and ask permission?  I don’t know (probably not).  From what I can tell, the driving force behind a big over-the-top proposals is so that woman can recite to everyone she knows what an amazing spectacle it was thus proving that she has the greatest fiancé in the world (I write fiancé because, without exception, she will say that word no less than 7.6 times a sentence).  Can you imagine a guy doing the same thing:

SCENE:

IN: PETE’S LIVING ROOM – NIGHT

Six guys sitting in PETE’S living room drinking beers around a folding table playing poker.

PETE: So, as I was saying, as the sun set across the ocean, we road our horses along the beach.  Bob, you can just picture my face when, off to the right, I notice a white linen tent pitched ahead of us – and no one around for miles.

Bob lets out a squeal as he lunges to hug Pete, spilling his beer in the process.

BOB: Ohmygod! Oh. My. God. I knew she was going to pop the question during your trip to Bermuda!  Tell him Raphael, I called it didn’t I!

PETE: Well, I’m glad at least one of us was surprised!  As we got closer, she helped me off my horse and pointed for me to look up across the ocean.  What do I see?  A plane– trailing the message: “Pete, I love you! Will you marry me – Sara.”

All the men in the room clap and high five one another.  Rob shotguns a beer in celebration.

PETE:  When I turned back around there she was–down on one knee–with the most gorgeous wedding band you’ve ever seen!

END SCENE

My point is, I imagine what would really “knock his socks off” is something that is truly from the heart.  Tell him why you want to marry him (he’s wonderful presumably) and why spend the rest of your life with him (fill in the blank).

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Sherryrose: Should the sex be had on a first date to find out if the whole mess is worth a second date? or should the third date rule be followed? seems like it would be a shame to get to the third date, tag it, and find out you were wasting your time on the other two dates… (either way…if it’s good you should have been having more of the sex, if it’s bad, you should have been long gone).

I am a very very firm believer that most dating “rules” are utterly stupid.  Use some common sense of course—don’t call the person 6 times the day after meeting—but waiting 73.5 hours is just as dumb.  That said, there is an unfortunate double standard when it comes to men banging on the first night and women banging on the first night.  I guess it depends on your read of the guy:  If you like him enough (or think he’s hot enough) to bang – have at it regardless of the number of dates.  If the sex is awful or he’s judgmental then at least you won’t waste any more time.  But always remember – wrap it up.

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That Kind of Girl: If you’re at a bar with a jukebox and only one dollar, what song is the most likely to start a spontaneous singalong?

It will vary by bar and regionally.  Boston (and anywhere there are asshole Red Sox bandwagoners: Sweet Caroline—Neil Diamond.  Texas (and at line dancing bars: Save A Horse, Ride a Cowboy—Big and Rich.  Gay Bars: Tiny Dancer – Elton John.  There are a only few songs  that will work regardless of location: anything by Michael Jackson, and the Ghostbuster’s Theme Song.  Who you gonna call? GHOSTBUSTERS!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kelly: So B… I was wondering what the protocol for staying in touch with an ex that already has a new g/f. Do guys want to keep in touch with there exes? is friendship really attainable post-break-up? I get that his new g/f would not be a fan of our friendship, but is there a way to make this transition easier?

My advice is not to keep in touch.  At all.  Especially if this was a recent breakup.

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MsDarkstar: Dear B, who in your household takes care of kitty waste related chores? In my household it’s me & I just want to know if it’s a dude thing to not change/scoop kitty boxes. And, you’re a dude, so I am getting your opinion. Thanks!

LiLu: For some reason, my darling dear missed this question, but I will tell you here and now that while it was SUPPOSED to be 100% my duty, as part of the contract for letting me even get the cats he was allergic to… he now will absolutely help out in that department. A good egg, I tell ya… a good egg.

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You wanted more B, you’ve got him, my friends! Ask your questions here for Round 4 of Life Advice from B.

I’m not a big fan of strangers.

It probably comes from the whole Masshole thing, but when someone I don’t know makes a move like they’re going to talk to me, I have a mini panic attack inside.

(It also may be because my father used to regularly present me with newspaper clippings of the latest little girl snatched into an unmarked van, never to be heard from again. Once someone pulled over to ask me directions, and I dove over a stone fence and took off through a cemetery.

It was in the center of our suburban town.

And I was 18.)

Ahem.

Anytwaddle, I’ve gotten better- I can now direct someone to the White House without screaming “Stranger Danger!!!!” and pissing myself- but that underlying fear and dislike of the unknown person remains.

(It’s a good thing I’m not single anymore.)

But every now and then, I am put into a situation where I must consort with a stranger… and sometimes, oh so rarely, it is fantastic.

Yesterday on my commute home, I was sitting next to another 20-something girl on the bus when a bedraggled Englishman hopped on, pulling a very damp and unhappy 7 year old boy behind him.

Of course, they sat right behind us.

The kid spent the next ten minutes whining at 7 year old volume about everything- he was unCOMFortable, the ride was so LONG, why COULDn’t he take his COAT off, stop SMILing at him like that!!!

His poor dad tried to placate the child- in his British accent, no less, which somehow made the whole spectacle all the more ridiculous- but he wasn’t having any of it. He berated his father until the moment they exited, and the bus heaved an audible sigh of relief.

I noticed the girl next to me giving me “the peripheral”- you all know what I mean- and somehow, I overcame my fear of the Stranger, and I looked.

We instantly broke into peals of laughter, swapping jokes about bratty children, and marveling at their skill at exponentially multiplying the syllables in a single word.

Two complete strangers, bonding in a moment of utter ridiculosity.

(It’s a word. Shuttup.)

An Unknown talked to me… and it made my bus ride home.

Moral of the story?

Clearly, I should mock others with complete strangers more often.

***Wait, you’re not done! Don’t forget to check out my round up on DC Blogs today!***

This WYR Wednesday brought to you by my listening to Wale’s “Center of Attention“… on the treadmill. Because that’s where I do my best only thinking.

What? I'm gangsta.

And also, because I’m actually curious what you would answer.

So, Would You Rather…

1. Receive a million dollars $300 thousand (you were all choosing this one- too easy!) absolutely free and clear, but know you will never, ever be famous in your lifetime… for anything?

2. Receive zero financial gain for it, but become famous for something awesome, like an Olympic medal or curing cancer. (Let’s assume in this scenario, for some reason curing cancer did not give you any cash money. You didn’t do something awesome and give it to orphans or anything, you just never got any money for it.)

3. Be filthy rich AND famous, but you have no control over what your fame is for. Like, you could be the Cloon… or you could be Octomom. You don’t know til it happens.

vs.

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***By the way, don’t forget to put this Friday’s Happy Hour on your calendar! Vapiano’s in Dupont! Woot!***

***Alright, folks, you know the rules. Join us all in humiliating the crap out of yourself every Thursday by sharing some completely tasteless, wholly unclassy, “how many readers can I estrange THIS week??” TMI story about your life. Or hell, about someone else’s!

Steal this button and put it in your post just by copying and pasting the html code in the box below, or just link back to the hub with this link, so your readers can read ALLLLLLL the TMI glory, and I’ll make sure to link to you.***

<a href="http://www.livitluvit.com/category/tmi-thursday" target="_blank"><img src="http://i556.photobucket.com/albums/ss5/Livitluvit/tmithursday.jpg" border="0" alt="TMI Thursday" /></a>

Now get ready, my darlings, for the ever popular, yet gravely feared, TMI THURSDAYS…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It is time… for the ninth installment of TMI Thursday, a la Post Secret! If you’ve been living under a rock and don’t know what Frank Warren’s GENIUS idea is, click that link to be amazed. People from all over the world send him anonymous postcards, of anything they want, so long as it represents their own personal secret. And that’s what we’ve decided to do here, TMI style. (Click here for all the past entries.)

Please continue to send your picture TMITs in, any time. I will make sure every last one is posted. You can use the top secret anonymous email account to send it in (Gmail, username tmithursday, password tmit1234), and send them to me at heylivitluvit at gmail dot com. I suggest the free photo editing website Fotoflexer to make it super duper easy.

All righty, then. And away we go…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Other awesomely bad TMIs this week…

heischic’s TMI Friday

moog’s Seeing Red – An Awful TMI Thursday

jenniferalaine’s tmi thursday: i kissed a homeless man.

Ex Hot Girl’s TMI Thursday: Butts and Cats.

Living Wicked’s TMIThursday: A Little Extra SAUCE w/ Her French … Kiss.

Carissa Jade’s TMI Thursday: A few of my hated things

Cheddar’s TMI Thursday: Mommy?

That Kind of Girl’s TKOG Who micromanages your mucous

P’s TMI THURSDAY: HOW MANY BEANS ARE IN THERE???

coffeypot’s TMI Thursday – The Double Date

Sebastian’s Pride & Prejupenis

Mary’s TMIT: Gay BFFs?

JewliaGoulia’s TMI Thursday – 6th Edition

Sean’s TMI Thursday: Why Is Michael Phelps Swimming to the Winter Olympics?

GregoryJ’s TMI Thursday – The Rest of the Story

Ashalah’s first one! TMI Thursday: The Uniballer

Griffin’s TMI Thursday – Basic Training Deformity

the iNDefatigable mjenks’ TMI Thursday: Hair Soap

Travis’ TMI Thursday: It’s Been A Big Week…

Tricia’s TMIT: I Get a Kick Out of You

Jeney Peney’s (Mini)TMI Thursday : Underpants

Tania’s TMI Thursday

Another virgin! Angie’s My First TMI Thursday Post – The Birth of My Son

And ANOTHER! Dating is My Hobby’s TMI Thursday: Why I’m the best girlfriend

Lucy’s TMI Thursday: I’ve Lost That Loving Feeling!

ClaireMontgomeryMD’s tmi thursday: how jean found herself in a vagina

Spleen’s TMI Thursday: you speak (and tell me about your embarrassing purchases)

amber murphy’s TMI Thursday: in which i was born again

Just Linda’s Thank goodness for my lovely pashmina

Pat’s TMI Thursday – I came, I sat, I peed

Krista’s TMI Thursday, the first

Hey kids, it’s time for the second set of responses to B’s new “advice column”! There were nearly 100 questions asked, so we’ll have to break this up a bit. I’ll be posting the responses on Tuesdays until I run out. Easy enough, no? (Last week’s edition here, or for more B, check out “The Shiz My Boyfriend Says” here.)

Things to know:

• These aren’t necessarily in the EXACT order they were asked. Don’t worry, I’ll whine remind him politely until they’re all answered.
• I have in no way read his responses. Like at all. I lit-rally just copied and pasted here. So, uh… yeah. This should be interesting.
• I’m scared. (See above.)

And away we go!

Em: “Question: how do I finally get my 3-year-old son potty trained?”

The entirety of my potty training knowledge concerns kittens.  Though I’m sure most of it is transferable to children.  Make sure your litter box is covered (you put babies in litter boxes right?).  Use clumping litter!  If that doesn’t work just shake the child until it understands.  Lord knows that works with girlfriends (joking, joking).

Dani: “I’m moving to a brand new city in May and I really don’t want to go back to selling pants for a living after busting my hump to get this damn Masters. What can I do in the next 4 months to make myself more employable…

Obviously prostitution or sexual favors is the best way to get ahead.  You mentioned your  history of “selling pants,” I assume that’s a synonym for you know what…(wink wink)

…besides providing sexual favors on job interviews?”

Oh. Well, if you’re taking all the commonsense ideas off the table I’ll have to think a little harder.  I would simply suggest networking and meeting as many new people as possible (principally through drinking).  In finding a new job, knowing the right person will be more beneficial than any four month stint on a resume.

Jaxie: “How do I tell my oldest friend (oldest as in we’ve been friends for 24 years) that she generally sucks as a friend and needs to make time for people, without hurting her feelings?”

Firstly, I avoid the phrase “you generally suck as a friend” in the conversation.  Perhaps tell your friend that you’re going through a rough time, impress upon her that you value her friendship, and say you’ll be leaning on her and hope she can make the time for your friendship.  Something like that. Or you could just save your time for less shitty friends.

Skylers Dad: “You are probably in the same boat as me, gifted with huge junk. How do you handle those awkward stares in the mens room?”

Now THAT’S a good question.  I try to keep in mind others are less fortunate and that I should try to be as discreet as possible with my enormous wang.

brookem: “my manfriend and i are planning to cohabitate this spring. this is new territory for me. while we spend almost every night together now, LIVING TOGETHER is so totally different. will you give me some tips on what to expect and how to cohabitate in peace?”

Two words: closet space.  I remember before our move-in being truly baffled and scared about where we were going to put all our stuff. I truly had sleepless nights over this.  Also, try to knock out the inevitable IKEA furniture shopping and assembly in one day.  Nothing stresses a relationship like IKEA’s god damn furniture instruction. All your screw pictures look the same IKEA! Use words you Swedish bastards!  I had to get that off my chest.  Pick an apartment near your friends and in a fun area so that you both might get out of each others hair once and a while.

hanako66: “how do i make my pug (jager) stop eating my fuzzy dog’s (bailey) poop? you see, a few weeks ago he threw it up in the middle of the night, i went to the kitchen to get paper towels and carpet cleaner… when i came back, he was eating it again. and i threw up. all. over. the. nightstand.

AWESOME! I just threw up too! I could tell from the start we had a lot in common.

I cannot have this happen again as it was very disruptive to my sleep, plus i swear my husband hasn’t looked at me the same since, so please PLEASE tell me how to make him stop eating her poop. ps i hope that animal feces is your area of expertise.”

First, no more licks from that dog.  Second…ummm, I’m at a loss.  I would suggest spraying “otherdogs” shit with something that would make it less appetizing.  But what could make shit less appetizing?  Mushrooms?  That’s all I’ve got.

Saratogajean: “How can I get the neighborhood degenerates to stop smashing their empty 40s on the sidewalk outside of my house?”

Easy. Buy them a 30 pack of beer CANS.  I can not stress the aluminum can aspect of this plan strongly enough.  This will provide you with “bum friends” — the best kind of friend — and more likely than not crushed beer cans on the sidewalk outside your house.  I figure that’s better than broken glass.  Additionally, this community outreach will make you 23% less likely to be assaulted by crackheads. WIN WIN!

HannahBlue:  “How do I deal with co-workers who are driving me crazy? (Since my husband will be a future lawyer, murder is obviously not an option).”

I look at your situation in the opposite way.  Your husband will be well situated to act as your defense in the subsequent trial.  But short of murder, I’d suggest reaching out to your coworkers (on an individual basis), doing them a favor to make their day a little bit better, and hopefully they will return the favor–if they’re not total assholes.  I have found that being passive aggressive at the office never works and you find yourself being paid back in kind.

BeckEye: “Eff, marry, kill: Rosie O’Donnell, Rosie Perez, and Perez Hilton.” 

Kill: Perez (painfully), Eff: Rosie O. (with my eyes tightly closed all the while humming Row Row Row Your Boat), Marry: Rosie Perez– White men can’t jump Rosie, but I’ll show you what we can do! (hint: its sexin’).

Belle/Elizabeth Marie: “How do I wait 3ish more years to get married and start having babies when I want them NOW but my boyfriend is in law school/is a commitment-phobe/is financially supported by his father so it doesn’t really make sense to do now? Love, Trying to be a cool non-pressuring girlfriend.”

Watch and re-watch that scene from Knocked Up where Katherine Heigl is crowning.  With that burned into your memory, you’ll hopefully be less inclined to get preggers.  If that fails, consider how happy your commitment-phobe boyfriend will be helping you with 3AM changing during finals (constructive receipt, 1035 exchanges, and baby shit–now we’re partying!).  Get engaged and enjoy that time, travel, do the sex (with birth control!!!), and relax. 

Repliderium: “How do I tell the fat person that I work with that every time she squats down beside my desk to talk all that I can smell is vagina & sweat?”

I truly do not know how to express that politely.  In particular since you will probably be smelling sweaty vag when you’re having this chat.  The societal implication of the Jersey Shore, the merits of prostitution, and lost love I can handle.  Sweaty vagina is beyond my depth.

You wanted more B, you’ve got him, my friends!

***Alright, folks, you know the rules. Join us all in humiliating the crap out of yourself every Thursday by sharing some completely tasteless, wholly unclassy, “how many readers can I estrange THIS week??” TMI story about your life. Or hell, about someone else’s!

Steal this button and put it in your post just by copying and pasting the html code in the box below, or just link back to the hub with this link, so your readers can read ALLLLLLL the TMI glory, and I’ll make sure to link to you.***

<a href="http://www.livitluvit.com/category/tmi-thursday" target="_blank"><img src="http://i556.photobucket.com/albums/ss5/Livitluvit/tmithursday.jpg" border="0" alt="TMI Thursday" /></a>

Now get ready, my darlings, for the ever popular, yet gravely feared, TMI THURSDAYS…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It is time… for the eighth installment of TMI Thursday, a la Post Secret! If you’ve been living under a rock and don’t know what Frank Warren’s GENIUS idea is, click that link to be amazed. People from all over the world send him anonymous postcards, of anything they want, so long as it represents their own personal secret. And that’s what we’ve decided to do here, TMI style. (Click here for all the past entries.)

Please continue to send your picture TMITs in, any time. I will make sure every last one is posted. You can use the top secret anonymous email account to send it in (Gmail, username tmithursday, password tmit1234), and send them to me at heylivitluvit at gmail dot com. I suggest the free photo editing website Fotoflexer to make it super duper easy.

All righty, then. And away we go…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Others awesomely bad TMIs this week…

Maxie’s TMI Thursday: Phantom Menace

That Kind of Girl’s TKOG Who has no tanlines (TMI Thursday, just a little)

LivingWicked’s TMIThursday: This Gives Want in one Hand … SHIT in the Other … a Whole New Meaning.

Think Tank Momma’s TMI Thursday – The Curious Case of Green Smoke

Griffin’s TMI Thursday – Twofer

Sebastian’s JUST DO IT

Travis’ TMI Thursday: Yes, I HAVE Looked At Lady Gaga’s Vajay.

P’s TMI THURSDAY: PEE ON ME? ER . . .NO THANKS . . .

Corrie’s TMI – In Jonathan’s Naked Glory

Jeff’s friends of friends who nobody knows

Carol’s TMI – Not today Dearest

Hillbilly Duhn’s TMI Thursday – When a small little poof makes a loud racket

amber murphy’s TMI Thursday: in which I am a poet

A Girl’s TMI Thursday: This is Why You Should Always Be Prepared

Colby’s TMI Thursday – That was just so much more than I needed to see in the morning

Jeney’s TMI Thursday : Dutch Ovens

Cleveland Poet’s TMI Thursday or Snot versus Poo the final showdown

Sarah’s TMI Thursday – The worst sex I didn’t know I was having

Tricia’s TMI Thursday: Oh, the Things You Find . . .

Wendy’s TMI Thursday: You can pick your friends, but you can’t pick your family, so can you pick your family’s nose? What’s that saying again?

Insomniac Lolita’s TMI Thursday : Mother-Daughter Talk

Kendall’s TMI Thursday: The Little Death. That Delicious Little Death.

JewliaGoulia’s TMI Thursday – 5th Edition

coffeypot’s TMI Thursday – Mile High Club – Kinda

Saphhyre’s TMI Thursday… #5

Hey kids, it’s time for the first set of responses to B’s new “advice column”! There were nearly 100 questions asked, so we’ll have to break this up a bit. I’ll be posting the responses on Tuesdays until I run out. Easy enough, no?

Things to know:

• These aren’t necessarily in the EXACT order they were asked. Don’t worry, I’ll whine remind him politely until they’re all answered.
• I have in no way read his responses. Like at all. I lit-rally just copied and pasted here. So, uh… yeah. This should be interesting.
• I’m scared. (See above.)

And away we go!

cavy: “B, i would like to know your thoughts/opinions on the possibility of Avatar porn, the Oxford comma, and Meryl Streep’s newfound status as a “sex symbol for the 50+ generation.”

I am fully supportive of innovative pornography–though I don’t look forward to the thought of giant penises blasting out of the TV screen towards my face (I get enough of that Tuesday nights). 

I am a very strong proponent of the Oxford (or serial) comma.  Consider how one would say this list if spoken: “I enjoy sex, beer, and football” NOT “I enjoy sex, beerandfootball.” 

Meryl Streep naked: something I don’t want to see in 3 or 2 dimensions.

Lemmonex: “B, how can I get rid of this uncomfortable itch?”

Penicillin cures all that ails. Except AIDS (isn’t AIDS a drag?)

Ashley: “Why does Axe Murderer not have a wig yet? Don’t you believe in having a stylish cat?” On a related note, Shannon asks: “How do I make my cats love me more than my fiance??”

I DO believe in having a stylish cat.  Though I’ve ceded  to Lilu sole responsibility for outfitting our cats in embarrassing/uncomfortable costumes.   As it turns out Shannon, while costumes do make for a stylish cat, they also result in an angry cat.  Suggest to your fiance that he dress the cats up….to prepare him for fatherhood.  This will have one of two outcomes: 1) He will leave you (now who’s the cats favorite), or 2) the cats will despise him (leaving you as the cats favorite and with an emasculated fiance–TWOFER!).

Nickie: “How do I know if a man is truly into me?”

I guess there’s no absolutely certain way to know.  Does he enjoy your company and prefer to be with you rather than apart?  Does he still play stupid relationship games (i.e. let’s be childish and wait X-days to call, and only see you Y-days a week)? Is he banging other women?  Has he relaxed around you to the point he shares those embarrassing/dorky aspects of his personality (for instance he is a sci-fi nerd, wears woman’s underwear,  cries during Disney movies, etc…)?  You’re probably looking good if the answers to those questions are: Yes, No, No, and Yes.

Alex Roda: “Now how do I become a billionaire? I kinda already used my credit card to purchase a private jet…..”

Alex would later, on his own, come to the correct conclusion that prostitution is his best option.  Someone tell ME, a situation where prostitution isn’t the best option.

Additionally, Paula asks: “I’m always running low on funds. How can I make extra money at night without, you know, becoming a hooker?”

If for some reason you don’t want to be a prostitute try being a bartender: it’s the flirting, listening to stranger’s personal problems, and money of prostitution without the penetration (usually).

PQ: “How can I get the dog to stop sniffing my crotch?”

Go through menopause (Yay, hot flashes!) or shower often.

Jackie: “How can I make sure my boyfriend doesn’t cheat on me when he’s in Canada next week on a “mancation”?”

Your first line of defense should be not to date an asshole would cheat on you while on “mancation” in Canada.  Or for that matter, take a “mancation” to Canada–but I’ll let that slide for now.  Though seriously, I think you’ll be fine. He and his buddies will get drunk, go to some strip clubs, watch football, and draw penises on whoever passes out first .  What you should not do is excessively express worries that he’s going to cheat.  Instead tell him “go have fun, ogle some strippers, drink with your buddies, and come home safe (safe is a euphemism for “not infected with AIDS).”  This should result in your boyfriend being so grateful at having the best-girlfriend-ever he will continue to be extra-faithful.

That Kind of Girl: “Question for B: How does one get over a great lost love?”

One doesn’t.  Sorry.  Just look back fondly on the good times and try not to completely gloss over the bad times/his negative aspects–people always seem better a few years removed.  As cold-hearted as it sounds, I’d also suggest a zero-contact rule with said “great lost love.” Lastly, you should: hang out with your friends, get drunk, hook up, and have some fun.

Carol: “Should a man with a small wang really wear a speedo? And if a man with a small wang wears one, does he think he has a big wang? Should he be informed that it’s not in his favor to wear a speedo?”

Maybe he’s a grower not a shower?

Masala Chica (Kiran): “What does it say about our society that 80% of the literate population in this country actually know who “Snookie” is?”

Just tell yourself its indicative of our society’s keen awareness of violence against women and MTV’s steps to bring light to this horrible problem.  All other alternatives are too depressing to consider.

Vie and T. The Destructor: How do you gather up the courage to tell your best guy friend (who also happens to be someone used to date and have dumped before) that you have developed strong feelings for him? Should I drink first?

Vie and Tiffani seem to be in the same predicament.  Drink before, drink during, and drink after the conversation (and if everything goes well the bang-time which is to follow).  However, I would urge caution before going through with the ol’ reverse breakup.  If you believe: 1) he feels the same way, or is at least open to the possibility, 2) you won’t change your mind about him again, at least in the near future, and 3) you really want a boyfriend…go for it.  As for the conversation itself, be straighforward about how you feel, let him know you’ve really thought it through, and I’m sure showing your boobs won’t hurt your cause.  I can’t think of many conversations that would not be improved by more boobs.

Carissajaded: “Are aliens real? If a guy watches girly movies by himself, is he gay? What is with the guys wearing sparkly shirts?”

1) Yes.

2) Watching girly movies by one’s self is the only way to do it.  Otherwise someone might see you tear up when, for example, that guy from Love Actually goes all the way to Portugal to profess his love to that chick (don’t judge me).

3) Wearing sparkly shirt = gay or a straight douchebag (see Jon Gosslin and the cast of the Jersey Shore).

Kendall: “How do I deal with blogging about a girlfriend? Figure you probably have a good perspective on that sitch.”

If how LiLu tricked me into revealing every offensive thing I’ve ever said is a road map it goes like this: Initially offer your girlfriend full editorial control regarding stories about her.  Next, publish innocuous/charming stories about her without her approval to lower her guard.  Then slowly push the boundaries and soon you’ll be telling stories about how she pees the bed and hates Nebraskans.

Jeney: “B, what is your opinion on pocketless jeans?”

They are awful.  Pocketless jeans make a great ass look dumpy and a dumpy ass look like you have stuffed your jeans with rotten pumpkin (why rotten pumpkin–I couldn’t tell you).  Pocketless jeans are as stupid as non-crotchless panties. See what I did there…

Jay: “How is it you maintain such tight control over your relationship with LiLu, yet she still clearly thinks she’s the one calling the shots? Is there simply some beautiful flaw in her personality that allows for this, or could you instruct me on how to achieve similar results with my significant other?”

It’s all about picking your battles (and being manipulative!). For example, LiLu will frequently go out to brunch, which turns into dinner, which turns into dancing and karaoke on Saturday or Sunday.  She feeling terrible about abandoning me all day. But I put on a brave face and tell her that I love her and to have a great time.  Meanwhile with nothing else to do, I’m forced to spend my day on the couch in my boxers watching football, drinking, and playing video games.  Tough break for sure, but I somehow manage.

You wanted more B, you’ve got him, my friends!

You all know this game by now. Time for another installment of “The Shiz My Boyfriend Says”! (Click for past “Shizzes”.)

(Duh.)

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Axe Murderer has developed this little habit of jumping on B’s lap and rubbing her face on his. Which, as someone who’d never owned cats before, freaked him out a bit the first time…

B: What the… what is she doing?!

Me: Cats have glands on their temples that secrete a scent… basically, she’s marking you as “her property”. Like when a dog pees on a fire hydrant. You should be honored.

B: Oh. Okay. (pause…) But little does she know I’m banging other cats all the goddamn time! Take THAT!

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On the couch. Per yoosh.

B: Name any problem in the world, and I’ll cure it with taking your pants off.

Me: Okay… Hitler!

B: Easy… take his pants off and no one will take him seriously.

Me: Okay… lupus!

B: Damn… that’s hard! You couldn’t give me AIDS or something!?

Me: Um, you could cure AIDS with “taking off pants”?

B: Sure… don’t do it! BAM!!!

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In bed, there is suddenly an audible *toot*…

B: Wtf was that?!

Me: It was the cats!

B: No it wasn’t! I saw it on your face! You pushed that out!

*toot*

B: You’re STILL PUSHING!!!

Me: It COULD be the cats!

B: Stop spreading fart rumors!!!

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While stopping at Tonic for Happy Hour, B interrogates me as to which super power I’d rather have.

B: Okay. Being super fast vs. talking to animals. a la Doctor Doolittle.

Me: Well, super fast. Because then I could get to work and ANYWHERE in no time.

B: WRONG.

Me: What??

B: That is incorrect. You’d hit a million bikes on the way.

Me: But I’d move too fast for them! You said super fast! I’d just blink and I’d be at work.

B: I didn’t say TELEPORT. How dare you make the assumption you can bend space and time. I said nothing about that. Next. Ability to be a fly on the wall, or teleport?

Me: Teleport.

B: Thank goodness. You got one. Next. Be able to read people’s minds, or teleport.

Me: Teleport again. I can travel anywhere that way!

B: (sighs) Wrong again, but at least you gave reasoning this time. *shakes head*

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Happy Humpday, mofos.

P.S. Vote? (Sorry.)