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!***






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Mama said share.

Okay, I went to the doctor and got a magic pill for my case of the serious. We’re all good now, swear. Thanks for putting up with me yesterday, y’all.

On to the grotesque…

It’s my girl Maxie‘s Would You Rather Wednesday!

Sooooo, would you rather…

Eat a quiche stuffed with Chris Farley’s belly button lint and Kanye West’s most pretentious pubic hairs…

(Things to think about: Chris and Patrick were tight.)

Awww. RIP, Miss Vida.

OR…

Marry Jon Gosselin? (Boys, this is for you too.)

(Things to think about: you can only divorce Jon if you marry Kate, and either way, you’ll probably have to wear Ed Hardy for the rest of your life.)

I know, I know. I’m evil.

P.S. Peoples in DC, want a $65 facial for $30? Click here!

P.P.S. See, I’m a giver too. SOMETIMES.

UPDATE:

P.P.P.S. I cannot believe I posted about facials on a WYRW and did not realize the set up I was giving you guys. Run with it, my friends. Run wild.

Mama said share.

So…

I love you guys. No, really. You were absolutely amazing yesterday- I can’t thank you enough for all your words and support. It felt like one Southern gramma big bear hug, and I honestly can’t find to tell you how grateful I am to have all of you, and this little world.

One comment in particular brought a little “No I am NOT crying I was just cutting onions!!!” to my eye… maybe because clairemontgomerymd is a mama, (btw- read my favorite “Mary” story of hers here, it is PRICELESS), but also because she just put this whole bloggysphere thing we have going on into words so damn perfectly. Check it out:

dear mrs. lilu,
blogging is kind of like one big never-ending cyber-slumber party. we’re all playing extreme truth or dare while we laugh and cry together but when asked what we’re doing, the answer is always ‘nothing’. eavesdrop a little, but turn away with a knowing grin that we’re all going to be alright. especially lilu. your daughter rocks. she makes a lot of people’s days much brighter. she’s genuine and brilliant. you’ve done raised her right. we love her and we love you for sharing with us your baby girl. now wipe your tears and make her buy you something pretty for being the best mom ever! seriously – take advantage of this opportunity.

See? SEE??? Isn’t your heart, like, a whole lot warmer now??

*sigh of contentment*

All right, now that that’s over, let’s get on with the gross stuff! (Sorry, mamakins)…

But it is my girl Maxie‘s Would You Rather Wednesday!

So, would you rather…

A)  Get caught masturbating by (on) your friend’s mom…

Grandma’s Boy – More amazing video clips are a click away

or…

B)  Catch one of your PARENTS masturbating? [video clip redacted for all of our sanity]

Think about that…

Hate me yet? xoxo

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Housekeeping: Maxie and I have had to change the date of our wedding, due to the fact that I am an idiot and double-booked a weekend.

All my best friends are SHOCKED right now, let me tell you… this is their surprised face:

Anyhoosits, the festivities will now be on Saturday, the 17th of October, rather than the 24th. Everything else shall remain the same. Except that you have one week less to buy us shit that we will then have to incorporate into the ceremony somehow.

Just kidding.

Maybe.

Mama said share.

So, yeah, I saw it. I’m a grown ass woman and I saw Harry Potter, wanna make something of it?? Whatevs, Hagrid’s totally hot. Any girl’s a spinner with him, after all.

I may have been a wee bit drunk and I don’t exactly “remember” everything that “happened,” but I do recall one of the most critical points in the plot line…

The kids are in one of their classes, and a teacher shows them how to make a potion of the scents that MOST attracts them. You know, sexually. (What?? They’re all 18 now. It’s legit.) And they were all “cookies” and “vanilla” and “Ron’s weiner”!

One of those isn’t true. But it may as well have been.

So of course I start thinking, what would mine be? Besides B’s manly musk, natch.

Well, my favorite smell in the whole wide web world is, undoubtedly, BASIL. I would eat that stuff raw, I swear. The mozzarella is a lovely but unnecessary accessory, from where I’m standing.

(Okay, that’s a lie; there are two things I never say no to: Don Draper and cheese.) But you catch my drift, yes?

Anygryffindor, I got to thinking; what if a guy actually smelled like basil and my grandmother’s kitchen? Would that really turn me on? I’m sure I would try to take a bite out of him, but probably not in the sexy way.

Can you bottle “a man and his dog playing in the park”? Or “my date ripping into some asshat for being rude to me”? How about “cute guy holding door for little blue haired lady”? Cause that’s what really gets my panties…

I’ve said too much.

As it’s Wednesday, I’ve decided to turn these ponderings into a particularly pungent (wooo alliteration!) Would You Rather…

WOULD YOU RATHER…

Smell like a dirty diaper filled with old fish scales and kitten diarrhea for the rest of your life (you are married and madly in love with someone already, but now they will have to smell you every day), or…

Have a partner that smells like a fresh human turd mixed with pickles and covered in burnt hair? (You are married and madly in love with them too.)

***For all of you who have been emotionally exhausted with my endless rants about our trials and tribulations in apartment hunting… fear not! We have officially FOUND what I believe is the perfect place for us- the right size, the right hood, and most importantly, the right price. Read: RENT CONTROLLED, BIATCHES!!! So thank you so much for all the karma and well wishes you sent our way. Mission? Accomplished. And pics to come soon!***

Mama said share.

I’m joining my sugarplum Maxie again for a little “Would You Rather Wednesday” action today. If you have a heart condition (or are just eating your breakfast), now would be the time to look away…

First, some background info. Because I sure as shit didn’t know what this thing was…

What is a mucous plug?

“The mucous plug is a collection of cervical mucus that seals the opening of the cervix during pregnancy. It keeps bacteria and infection from entering into the cervix, providing a protective barrier for the developing baby.”

Let’s dig deeper, shall we? (Ooo, poor word choice…)

“As labor approaches, the cervix thins and dilates, and the plug isn’t large enough to fill the space anymore. The plug may come out all at once, or it may come out slowly in the vaginal discharge over a couple of days.”

And lastly, this wouldn’t be any fun if we didn’t know what it looked like, did it? (I’ll spare you a picture because I am a kind and benevolent person, but perhaps words can do it justice…)

“A mucus plug may be clear, slightly pink, or may be tinged with blood. The plug may consist of stringy mucus, or it may be sticky discharge.”

All right, now that we’re all on board, let me ask you this…

Eat a freshly expelled mucous plug (no sauce/seasonings of any kind, just knife and fork, baby! (Oh, and probably also a little baby…))

OR…Eat the meal created for the Royal Biatch customer in the movie Waiting, pubes, loogies, dandruff and all? (From the greasy likes of a corporate restaurant chef line, no less…) If you’ve never seen the clip, you can click here to go directly to it, or skip to the 1:17 mark on the video below…

Oh, look. I just made MYSELF throw up.

Happy Humpday! Who’s hungry??

(Schmoopy note: Thanks so much for your comments, emails, and other messages re: yesterday. I really appreciate so many of you taking the time to reach out. I think the post came across more drastic than I intended- I am okay, 100% okay… I just need a change when it comes to living a healthier lifestyle. Again, thanks so much, everyone.)

Mama said share.

I’m going to take a page out of my lover Maxie‘s book and rock out with a Would You Rather Wednesday. (Check out all her WYRW’s here.)

Don’t worry, it’s not quite so vile as last time…

For the menfolks!

Sit through an entire performance of “Menopause: The Musical” (no commentary or paintballs allowed)

or…

Have to be a bartend at a bachelorette party, but you are in the body of Roseanne Barr, so you can’t flirt or anything, you just have to sit there and listen to the women yammer on and squeal about penis cakes while you mix all their foo foo drinks?

Oh, also, it’s at this place:

For the ladeez:

Be stuck on a deserted island with Spencer Pratt for a week…

or…

Make out with Carrot Top on national television for two full minutes?

TRANNY ALERT!!!!!

Housekeeping: You want me fluff your pillow? (I know you do, you cheeky monkey.)

1. Thanks for all the input re: shortened posts in Google Reader. I had no idea it was such a charged issue! But I hereby promise to never abridge my posts in there again. Mostly because I looked at The Bloggess‘ and she doesn’t do it and yes I would jump off a bridge if she did because I’m sure she’d have a good reason for doing it, like we’d fall into Narnia before we hit the ground and have tea with Mr. Tumnus when you all thought we’d be DEAD! You just have to believe, people.

2. Thanks to multiple hours spent talking about the grossest stuff we can imagine with my BFeffinF Maxie, I remembered a TMI Thursday that will go down in the books. Read: You will probably never come back here after tomorrow. Actually, that’s not true, because I told you about the time I touched my shart and you still come back for more. Gluttons. (Lex, I promise no poo!)

Mama said share.