Brit and Bubby before his Jr. prom
His sadistic coaches made him wrestle on prom day. He had time to wrestle Greco (placed first) and left just as Freestyle was starting. He got home about 4pm and had to pick his date up at 5pm. There is nothing like fresh scratches on your face for prom night! I noticed his date touching his face and asking him if a certain mark was from that day. It may all be worth it if it garners a little sympathy from the ladies...

This is how we roll....

Tough girls come from New York, sweet girls, they're from Georgia. But us [Oklahoma] girls we have fire and ice in our blood. We can ride horses, be a debutante, throw left hooks, and drink with the boys, all the while making sweet tea, darlin'. And if we have an opinion, you know you're gonna hear it.

--Ashley Judd

Does the Farmer kiss, beat, or take?

So, I'm in Walls (my favorite discount store) today in the check out line and this lady strolls up behind me with two small children in her shopping basket. Im just standing there, minding my own business, when the two wee ones start singing:

The farmer beat the wife
The farmer beat the wife
High-ho the dairy-o
The farmer beat the wife

Older kid: "Mommy, does the farmer beat the wife or kiss the wife?"
Younger kid(like 3): "Fahmor beath dah wife!"
Mom: "I don't know. He probably kisses her after he beats her, but I think its "the farmer takes the wife."

WHAT? ARE YOU SERIOUS? Did you just say that to your kids? Holy crap. That's not right.

I'll admit that most of the people that go to Walls are a little less fortunate than most, and really can't afford to shop anywhere else. I like the store because they have name brand clothes for like 60% off. Though, I feel kind of guilty, because it's almost like I'm taking the name brand clothes away from the people that otherwise could not afford them. Is that bad?

In other news, I'm leaving on Wednesday for Florida. I'll be gone for like 2 weeks, but never fear, I will have a lap top with me, HOPEFULLY, so I can post pictures and shit.

Much love gangstas!

Wonder Showzen. Anyone seen it?

Dumb.Dumb.Dumb.Freaking Dumb.

So last night, at about 3:00 in the morning, we're at this guys house, and we're learning how to juggle. These guys live all the way by Hefner Lake, but they drive to Wall's (a great discount store) to buy random shit at least once a week. Yesterday they found a good deal on tennis balls. They got a hundred of them for 5 effing dollars. Priceless. Some they threw out of their cars on the highway, some they lit on fire, and some they used to juggle.

While learning the art of throwing multiple balls in the air in a circular motion, a boy turned on the TV. He pushed 55 on the remote control, and there before my eyes was the most ridiculous thing I have ever seen.

A child. A child dressed as Hitler (mustache and all). A child dressed as Hitler asking people weird shit like, "Do you like Hitler?"
Then, he would have a starting contest with the people.

Next, after baby Hitler, were characters like the ones on sesame Street, only disgusting.

For example, Chewties, a cookie made from cooties. On this show, you could die from cooties. Cooties = AIDS on this show. So, they cut off the sores, and they make them cookies, and they sell them to kids, so the kids get the cooties (AIDS) and then they die.

Good show people. Amazing. Lets all eat AIDS cookies and die.

They also have demented hot dogs, an annoying blue puppet that I would punch if it had nerve endings, and children that ask retarded questions.

So theres that.

Oh, and one more thing. I almost got into a fight yesterday.

So, I went to lunch with The Laurens at Primos. We're eating, we're talking to people that work there, and we're laughing in abundance.

These two girls walk in and are seated behind and diagonal to us. I recognize one of them. It's a girl that hates me because of a boy that she liked, that I went out with, that cheated on me with her. I don't have a problem with her, but I am, at this point, disgusted at what it is she is wearing. She's wearing a half top, a skanky one, her hair is put up like it was matted that way for a month, and her make up is so crazy I don't know whether to just look at it or try to fix it. By the grace of God, I stayed in my seat, but the bitch in me had to laugh. So, I did. Mistake number one.

Our waitress is Kelly. Kelly is funny. Kelly made fun of these girls while they were sitting less than 4 feet away. The girls got mad. We get up from our lunch, one of the girls stops us and says, while looking up at the ceiling nonetheless, "I'm glad you think it's so fun to talk shit about other girls. I hope it makes you feel better. blah blah wahh."

She's talking to me. I didn't even say anything. I said nothing at all. So why are they talking to me? The girl I got cheated on with recognized me, and she just wants to start crap. A few words are exchanged, but nothing really important. The Laurens and I make our way up to the front where we talk to Kelly for a while longer.

The girl that doesn't like me and her friend make their way to the front also. They walk out the door to leave. Moments later, we see a car hit the curb. The girl that doesn't like me gets out, walks back into Primos and says, "Whose talkin shit, seriously?"

We stand there in silence as her friend makes her way inside too.

She says, "I just want you to know that I am never eating here again."

Silence. A giggle or two.

They leave and go sit in their car. The Laurens and I walk out and get in our cars. The girls follow us. The tall Lauren started getting pissed, so we pulled into a gas station. They sure enough followed us in there, too. Lauren gets out of her car and walks over to theirs.

"Is there a problem?"

She asks.

"No. Not with you. We don't like Brittany."

I get out of the car and walk over there.

"You need to leave now, " says one girl.

Of course, cause I don't take orders, I don't move.

"Seriously. If you don't move I am going to get out of the car and hit you in the face."

I laughed. I really did. It just sounded so funny. I told her that I was going to stand right where I was, and that if she really had any intentions of getting out and hitting me in the face, it would have been done already.

Silence.

They leave.

We win.

Go us.

The end.

Handy Emotional Barometer

Take the quiz: "How emo are you?"

My results:

Not Emo
You're obviously not an emo kid...you have other interests

Really none of the possible answers were a fit for me on some questions, but I still love the quiz because it called me a kid.

This next quiz is great. Anyone know when Taking Back Sunday will be in OKC? Do I know any of their songs? Is one of the band members named Andy?

Find your emo boyfriend

Emo Boyfriend
Name
DOB
Favourite Color
His Name	Andy
His Looks/Style	Shaggy black hair, blue eyes, wears eyeliner, really skinny, pale, lip ring, band t-shirts, tight pants, and converse
How you met	At a Taking Back Sunday show
How he tells you he loves you	Gives you flowers every day
What he calls you	Hunny
How far you've gone	everything
This cool quiz by _shelovedaboy - Taken 165369 Times.

Actually, I would prefer it if Andy were kind of buff instead of thin. I would also like for him to not be too pasty and leave my eyeliner alone - I mean, Jesus. Tight pants just scream "sissy." They'll have to go. Flowers every day? That would actually piss me off after a few days. Maybe I don't want an emo boyfriend after all.

Andy - If you are reading this and willing to change the core of who you are, give me call.

BEADS FOR CRACK!

What is with boys and boobs? Better yet, what is with boobs and beads? I thought that this was just a Mardi Gras thing, but apparently, it’s a male ego thing. Every where you go, at least around here, boys will have beads, and boobs will have beads, because if you have beads and you’re not a boy, you must have shown your boobs.

I went out to 39th St. on Saturday, because every Saturday is a Cruise Day…eh night. We pull into this parking lot where a friend of mine wants to see a friend of hers who is in a “Camaro Crew.”

Gay you ask? Yes. It is.

We get there and stand out side. It’s four of us girls in the middle of a bunch of boys and some strange girls. We see this guy holding up a sign that says “Show Me Your Boobs!”
He has beads. I looked at the sign a little closer. He has the two O’s in boobs drawn in the shape of breasts. However, to me, the boobs looked more like a butt crack with dimples than it did boobs.

As much fun as it was standing in that parking lot, we had to leave because some guy knocked a girl out. So, we drove up and down 39th until we found ourselves at Sonic (America’s favorite drive-thru).

We all stood in front of this guy’s truck and yelled things at cars that drove by. If a person was driving a Mustang, we did not yell “nice Mustang,” instead we yelled, “nice Firebird!”

People didn’t think it was as funny as we did.

After a while, we all started getting a little slap happy. We decided to do something crazy. Here are the steps to de-bore your self at 39th Street:


Step 1: Steal beads.
Step 2: Find a group of boys.
Step 3: Approach boys.
Step 4: Yell, “Beads for crack!”
Step 5: Realize what the hell you just said.
Step 6: Yell, “Beads for ass crack!”
Step 7: Watch pants drop like my grades in high school.

You know, I really didn’t think that this was going to work, but to my surprise it definitely did. Right when I yelled, “Beads for ass crack,” a swarm of boys circled around us. Boys really showed us their bums, and we really did give them beads. Everyone at Sonic laughed with us and had lots of super spectacular fun. When it was time to leave, we yelled, “Thanks for the ass,” and waved good-bye.

Good-bye.

Lance Thinks He's Gay..wait that came out wrong

Last night was interesting. Very interesting.


My mom, brother, and grand parents were honored with meeting Kris the Hair Stylist.
They were shocked by the way we joked around. He and I are both very sarcastic, we tend to make fun of each other and make one another feel like a retard. It’s fun. I think he did this in abundance last night though, because he was a little nervous.

He came over to do my little brother’s hair. I’m pretty sure that Lance was scared shitless. Kris kept calling him “son” and “kid.”
I think that Lance was not okay with that, although, he did laugh at everything Kris said. I think he was just being polite though, but only because my mom was around. Otherwise, I’m sure he would have been a complete ass crack. Lance doesn’t like any guy that likes me.

Kris came over in the strangest shirt he could find. I think he did it on purpose because he knew it would freak my brother out. I told him in advance that my brother would probably be unsure of a straight male hair stylist. I’m pretty sure he acted as flamboyant as possible, but it was only a joke. Yes, Jameson, it was a joke. It was not his inner gay.

Mema didn’t like his hair, and Papa thought he was straight up weird. My mom thought he acted nervous, and I could just tell that Lance was calling him gay in his head. I can picture Lance thinking, “Man, I’m bending over this sink, and this guy is behind me washing my hair for me. He has to be gay. Man this is so gay. I hope he’s not gay. My mom is gay for making me get my hair cut by a gay guy who is so gay. Why does Brittany like him, that’s so gay. Freakin’ fag. This is stupid.”
However, if he had said any of that out loud, you wouldn’t have understood a thing he said. He blurs his words together like this, “Man, Ya’re Gay. I’ate you guys. I’mona leave now, ok?”


In other news, I’m sure everyone has heard by now that Britney Spears is pregnant. Now, I don’t care who yah are. That right there is funny. I’m sorry, but I can not picture Britney Spears with a baby on her hip. I can’t picture her husband staying around to raise it either. He had his second baby 2 months before he and Britney got married, and he sure isn’t with that baby’s mama.

Wisconsin is trying to make it legal for people to shoot stray cats. I can see it now, massive groups of drunk kids with bee bee guns going cat hunting.

"Hey, dude, look at that black one. Isn't that like bad luck or something? Man, I don't want bad luck. We gotta get that mother fuc-er."

Pow.

"Shit, I missed."

Pow.

"Man, dude, you hit my dads favorite milk cow. How are we going to have cheese this week?"


There was a lady on T.V. that did not agree with this. Here's what she said in a nut shell:

"It should not be legal to shoot cats. The cat's are not the problem. The people not taking care of their cats are the problem. Shoot the people," and then her eyes watered up, "I love cats. I wouldn't want my cat to get shot, would you want your cat to get shot?"

Shut up lady. 80% of people I know hate cats. You are screwed, because the moment that law is made a law, people are coming after your cat. It's your fault too, because you made a huge deal about it. Cats are like rabbits anyway. They are horny little bastards. Hey, guys, you all have something in common with cats. I could so call you a word right now, but I wont cause I hate it. It starts with a P and ends with a Y and sometimes an IES.

Muahahahahahaah.

Opera Singers are Annoying

Papa came in today from his day trip with Mema and said, "There's a cleaners down the road that is hiring."

Well, Hi Papa, how are you? Haven't seen you in a couple of days! Did you miss me?

No? Ok.

So, apparently I need to get a job. I filled out an application at Full Circle book store yesterday, and I was going to fill one out at Route 66, but I'm sorry Mom and Tona, that lady gets on my nerves. As sweet as she is, her voice rang in my ears for about 30 minutes after I had left the store. I don't think I could work with her.

She sings when she speaks, or so it seems. Imagine and opera singer saying this, "Your Mom is Tina? I love her, she's a doll! And you know Tona, Oh I love her too! What color is her hair today? How's Karen, is she ok? Does she need me to send her students? I will, I always tell people how good of a teacher she is."

Blah. Blah. Blah. Blah. Blah. Freakin Blah. Blah.

I almost ate my free sample of hand soap to end it all.

I pasted a smile on my face and just kept it there while she talked. I'm afraid my eyes were squinting though. You know, like when the sun is in you eyes? My nostrils might have been flared too. So, basically, I looked like a freak. She probably wonders what my dad looks like now.
"She can't get that face from her mom," she probably thought.

So what if I looked like that goofy picture of dad from spring break...I couldn't help it.

Hmm. Well.

The news just said that Cookie Monster from Sesame Street is on a Diet. The children's show is challenging obesity. Cookie Monster now eats vegetables. Way to go, people. That's going to get children to eat their veggies. Cookie Monster, well, Veggie Monster, is going to be an outcast now. Kids won’t like him. Kids like cookies, you idiots.

Does anyone else think that's wrong? Is it just me?

Why Do You Wear That Bunny Suit?

Ok. Has anyone seen Donnie Darko?

Megan and I watched it the other night, and I swear to you, our jaws were dropped throughout the entire movie. You are supposed to view Donnie Darko as Jesus. I don't understand that, because nothing he does remotely resembles good ole J.C.

Donnie Darko is one of those movies that you have to have seen about 89 times to get the full effect. I still don’t understand exactly what I saw. I couldn’t even tell you what it was about to be honest with you. All I know is, there is a 6 ft bunny rabbit that tells Donnie what to do. If I woke up to a rabbit telling me to flood my high school, I would be scared as hell, but I would do it because I hate my old high school.

Tonight was pretty darn non-eventful. Megan and I watched 13 Ghosts (which was creepy and lame), and I hung out with my friend Kris (the cute boy who is a straight hair stylist). He and I watched Bad Boys II which is also a lame movie, but what the hell, yah know? He’s hot.

Kris and I decided while he was taking me home that we were going to go to the zoo. We got on this subject while we were debating on whether we should be going east or west on the highway. I have to admit, I wasn’t exactly paying attention to where he was taking me. He could have driven to Florida, and not only would I not have noticed, but I wouldn’t have minded. He makes me laugh. But, I’m still not going to date him.

He had a girl friend for a million years, and moved in with her. So, he likes serious relationships, and he likes living together. I’m sorry, but hell no. He would get sick of living with me anyway. I’m not good at hanging up clothes. Beside all that, that’s entirely to close to marriage. Once again, hell NO.

At any rate, I would like to take a brief moment and take time to welcome Megan to Le Truth. She is awesomely funny, and you will all heart her. Hi Meg, say hi to your mom (AKA Donald Trump) for me!

Bye loves!

The new girl on the block

Why hello ladies i have now joined in with ya'll thanks to britta jonn and i'm sure i will be hooked very soon! My ignorant Goliath/bitch of a roomate will probably be the main focus of a lot of my posts.......but lets hope not!!

Getting back points and inflicting pain on some kid at the Reno Tournament of Champions. 

Working a "bar arm." 

At Dual State trying to get back points. 

Eyes Wide Shut

So for all this time T and I have been closet bloggers. Really the only people we know personally who read what we write are T, Brit, and me. Some of our friends know we blog, but they don't know the addresses to the sites. For the most part we have felt pretty invisible. We've been outed.

This past week two people who we have previously referred to as Handsome Husband and Ex in our posts started reading our blogs. Handsome Husband has been privileged to most things we write because when I find something particularly amusing I end up reading it out loud to him. (Okay, I am a whore for a laugh.) But last week he started reading on his own from his office, which feels entirely different to me. Not bad. Just different. After Ex told us he wanted to read our blog last weekend and we told him no, he told us he would just google us. Apparently he did. He then read every post, and from what I understand, every comment.



Since we couldn't remember everything we had written in the past few months, this revelation sent T and me into our own blog reading marathon. We sat on the phone with each other and read every post on both Le Truth and L'esprit D'escalier. We found that we still amuse ourselves, and we only cringed a little.

Ex told T that he was going to have to stop reading because it made him feel stalkerish. He doesn't understand that's what blogging is about. Reading a blog is like having a little window into someone else's world, and jesus-god I'm a born voyeur. Obviously I am a bit of an exhibitionist as well because I keep writing.

So don't feel weird Handsome Husband or Ex. Read on. Just know that the things you say and do could be fodder for our amusement. We tease because we love. You are both very funny guys, so feel free to comment, even anonymously.

Keep in mind that we have been pretty tame in our writing about relationships. So don't open any doors you don't want to be thoroughly explored!

By the way, Ex, you are still willing to help me fix my computer, right? I was just joking about the mustache; it looked nothing like that picture. And I am smiling sweetly.

This weekend for the under 21 people

Nothing. Absolutely freaking nothing.

So, last weekend my car was broken into. My friend Tiffany said that her bag was in the back seat full of clothes and fake gold earings. She said that it got stolen. She cried and cried. She flailed her arms around and cried some more. Her car keys were attached to the bag. She didn't have an extra set. I had to drive her and her roommate, Megan, back and forth to work all this week.

Yesterday, my car broke down on the highway. The tensioner-pulley-thing did something crazy and stopped working, which made the belt break, which made my power stearing stop working, which then caused my car to over heat, fill up with smoke, and stop. Oh, and my phone was dead.

I got out of my car and popped the hood. I stared at it for a moment and then got back into my car and looked at my friend Megan. Moments later, I got back out of my car and walked around it. I noticed that my tire was some what flat, so I popped my trunk and got out my tire-airer-upper. When I did that, I noticed something. It was Tiffany's bag that was "stolen" with her keys attatched to it. I yelled at the top of my lungs, for she was the reason that my car was smoking on the side of a very busy highway.

I felt much anger and kicked my flat tire. A car pulled over behind mine. It was two boys. They were creepy. They looked under my car, where the problem was not, but I let them do it anyway. They looked funny pretending they knew what they were talking about. They asked if they could give us a ride. I said, "Hell no, but may I please use your cell to call my dad?"

Dad was not happy. I had to remind my dad that my car was a 1992. That didn't help, but he came anyway. Thanks Dad. He called a tow truck, and my car was safely hauled back to my Mema's house.

Since my car is now dead, so is my weekend.

When I told Tiffany that I found her effing keys in my trunk she said, "Oh my God, the person that broke into your car must have put it in there!!"

I'm not sure, but what kind of thief has the time to break into a car, take a bag, decide they want to place it in my trunk, pop my trunk, set the bag in there, shut the trunk, lock my car door, and shut it, too?

When I asked her that she said, "I don't know, but I didn't put it there."

I sure didn't put it in the trunk, dumb ass, and the person that broke into my car didn't do it, so who the hell did, you freaking moron?????

She's such an idiot. I don't hang out with idiots starting now.

As abnoxious as she was at that point, it made me think of other things that annoy me about her. I thought of lots of things, such as, the way she sleeps with her face smashed on the pillow, the way she dips her massive chunk of bread into MY oil and vinegar, and her makeup. I like Megan though, she's cool.

K. Bye.

This weekend in OKC - for the 21+ type folks

According to that bastion of journalism, the Daily Oklahoman:

Friday night - Chebon Tiger is playing at the Belle Isle Brewery.
If you like soulful type blues, you will like Chebon.
If you are a girl, you will think he is sexy.
If you are a boy, you will think he is cool.

Saturday night - Watermelon Slim is playing at Galileo.
If you like old school blues, you'll have a great time.
Ike Lamb is playing guitar for him. Ike kicks ass.
I like Ike. I'm not allowed to say that to him anymore.
A lot of people say it. A lot. When you are drinking, it is hard to resist.

HIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Long time no post, eh? I wish I could say that I have been busy, but I haven’t.

The reflexologist told me that I have Mono and that I am Anemic. Real convincing coming from a lady who rubs feet for a living. To my defense, my Mema made me go. I didn’t want to. I hate feet and having my feet touched. It didn’t matter, I was too weak to talk and I didn’t want to fight with my grandma.

The foot lady told me to take in more iron and vitamin b. That cures Mono? Cough, bullshit, cough. Can I have real meds please? Pain killers, too.

I don’t actually believe that I have what she told me that I have. I don’t want The Kissing Disease. I don’t want to say that I have it, I don’t want to know that I have it, and I don’t want to think that I have it.

In other news, met a cute boy. Cute boy has cute hair. Cute boy drives very cute expensive car. Cute boy also dresses in very cute expensive clothing. He will also own his own hair salon, and the best part is, HE’S NOT GAY. Shut up Jameson (in advance).

I doubt I will date him. I don’t have the patience right now. Maybe its cause I’m sick. No, I just don’t want to.

I went to a really fun 3 kegger last weekend. The same boy followed me throughout the entire night asking me every five minutes if I would like to dance. I responded no each time, but I’ll admit, I considered him to be my friend by the end of the night. That is only because I wasn’t the designated driver.

At one point in the night, I was watching Megan do a beer bong. During this time span, got beer spilled on me four times. The first time it was by a new guy from Germany. He fell over his own foot and his cup fell on my right boob. He said sorry, and then decided to ask me if I wanted to have sex with him. My answer was of course no. German guy passed out in the grass moments later.

The second time it was by my friend Zach. He did it because, “This side didn’t match that side.”

The third time was by Zach; he too fell—over the keg in attempts to hurdle it. That cup went on my left leg.

The fourth time was my fault. I spilt it on my shoe whilst I was checking my watch. Dumb. I know.

That’s about all I needed to catch you up on. See yah wouldn’t wanna be yah!!!