How to lose weight with Jimmy Fallon

Jimmy Fallon came to Orlando, and it turned all Games of Thrones here in the City Beautiful. Alliances were made, bitchez were cut, someone showed their boobs – you get the idea. The Tonight Show mentioned tickets, and then all hell broke loose to get them. So much so, that I think we crashed their website because tickets went live, then went down and then went live again. Personally, I like to think that I was the one messing it all up because I was routed into EVERYwhere on every kind of device with wifi that I owned, hard core stalking for them tickets. Picture Seth Green in The Italian Job, that was me. Of all the Facebook talk about it- there were only about 4 of us that actually got tickets, and all 4 days of the show were sold out within 5 minutes of the launch- with a technical glitch on one of the sites lasting about 2 minutes, so yeah. I was excited! We secured 3 tickets so Smith and I could take our friend for her belated birthday. We chose the last day of filming because I thought it would likely be the most exciting.

Note to self: never buy peach colored shorts.

Note to self: never buy peach colored shorts.

When I found out Michelle took her Crazy Legs to the show a couple of days before, I hit her up for some tricks of the trade she learned on the road.  “Bring and umbrella and sunblock for the ginger <because he will die otherwise>,” she said. She was right, had we not brought an umbrella, Smith AND I would have bursted into a star and gone to live among the Great Bear and the Seven Stars constellation. When I pulled my magical umbrella out, you could hear people lusting to partake in my giant gerber daisy of shade- and I shared it (yeah, you shade thieves were all up on me… not too smooth with your shade stealing efforts, peeps. You need to watch The Italian Job.) But oh em gee – I can hardly blame them because in that sun, on a blacktop back lot, it was blistering without it! To make it extra uncomfortable for those without water or umbrellas (I was golden in this case because Smith spoils me), they unplugged all the giant fans. It felt like Universal was doing their own Divergent type of mind control training course back there. I was relatively comfortable and still was sweating from my elbows, so I can’t imagine how other people felt.

When The Tonight Show invites you to their show, Universal just decides to take over your whole damn day.

“Oh you want to see the show? Start sweating in your buttcrack and we’ll talk, Buddy.”

We had to be in line to retrieve our tickets from will call at 10, then after getting the tickets we had to be back in line by 3, show starts at 5, then after the taping we had to be at the concert venue by 8. So while we were at Universal, we couldn’t really do anything without it running into some time we had to be in line for something to do with the show. Let’s put it this way, when I left my house in the AM I was presentable, but when we started taping I looked like the toppins bird lady from Mary Poppins- and I was one of the comfortable ones! A dude with dreads in front of us lifted his arm at one point and the smell almost made Smith crap his pants, and that chain of events doesn’t even make sense. DIVERGENT!

Jimmy was flawless and so funny. The Roots are amazing, but you already knew that. Paula mentioned that the Wednesday taping wasn’t that great  – but ours was really funny, fun and Jimmy didn’t do any retakes, so smooth – it was literally like watching the show on tv, only really loud and with other people’s body odors that make your colon malfunction. I spent my time with Jimmy doing the robot when the crane cameras swept around.

“The Tonight Show starring Jimmy Fallon in LOUD AZZ SMELL-O-VISION!”

Our guests were George Lopez and Pit Bull Pitbull, which at first I was like “Meh” as I’m not an actual fan of either of the guests- but honestly, George was really funny and Pitbull’s concert with The Roots as the band was AMAZEBALLZ. The show was a good time! I prayed Jimmy would go Oprah on us and just start popping off cars or trips to Australia, but he didn’t. We had special treatment so they let us into the concert venue before they opened it to the park, at which point it got REAL crazy out there. I had to push a drunk woman off of me using only her boobs. She got aggressive trying to drop elbows and steamroll me out of the way with those puppies (even though she had no wrist band and therefore shouldn’t have been up there anyhow) so I was forced to grab them padded c’s and force her back from whence she came. It was just as awkward and amusing as it sounds.

The Gates to Mordor

The Gates to Mordor

Ticket

My ticket, standing in the sweat lodge line

One pic and then they made everyone turn phones off so no more inside. :(

Only one pic inside, they had everyone turn phones off/no cameras allowed after we got seated. 😦

 

The Roots concert sound check

The Roots concert sound check

The Roots & Pit Bull about to take stage

The Roots & Pit Bull about to take stage

Jimmy! I couldn't get it to focus! :\

Jimmy! With them moving and us dancing I couldn’t get my phone to focus! lol

Jimmy in motion again lol

Jimmy in motion again TIMBERRRRRRR!!!

 

Pit Bull

Pitbull

Quest Love and Damon, Tuba Gooding Jr.

Quest Love and Damon, Tuba Gooding Jr. ❤ My favorites!!!

 

 

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Magical Panties

I shared this on Facebook and people seemed to enjoy it, so I’m sharing it here too!

I was spending the day at Disney with my boo when I noticed a small string, about a half-inch long, sticking out above the waist of my pants. I decided to pull on the string to get rid of it.

I was a string pulling machine!

and I pulled…and I pulled and proceeded to pull about 4 yards of string out of my pants.

Could have knitted the world a sweater!

I felt a breeze of unwanted freedom below and snapped the string with a key to stop the madness. I had a ball of fuzzy string pilled forever high in my hand and scurried to find somewhere to throw it away.

Watch out I’m trying to get rid of this shit!

I became afraid to use the public restroom because I feared my underwear were either gone entirely, or just laying down there like a fig leaf. I didn’t want to shift any tables in the jean-time-continuum ’cause I just can’t walk around naked in jean shorts. 100% cotton, maybe- but I’m definitely not doing any high kicks in either of those scenarios.

Eventually I did have to crack the pee levee because I drink a shit-ton of water. I stowed myself away into a back corner restroom stall where the light was flickering. Apparently that string was a major component of my underwear’s elastic band because without it, my underwear just kept getting bigger and bigger like they were magical. **ExpectoGrow’Em!** I tucked and folded them bad boys up like I was crafting origami cranes down there and went back out to hit the rides.

Pantygami

By the end of the night I could have sailed a ship with these bloomers, or at least have worn them as a shall or a hipster infinity scarf. At one point I seriously had that shiz tucked up under the bottom of my bra.

If I can figure out how to harness the power of the string I will market rip-cord panties to the world for the holiday season. “Pull this string! BOOM! Comfort.” Well, until they fall out of your pant leg.

Home Alone

I grew up a delicate flower in a boys world. Meaning, I only had brothers and if I was a flower, at the time it probably would have been some kind of flowering stank weed until about the age of 20. Today I was thinking about all the fun we had growing up together when I remembered this story:

ME SO SCARY!

My brothers and I would always sneak watch Unsolved Mysteries. If you hadn’t heard of this show, thank your lucky stars because that shiz would make drops of my urine pop out from fear quite regularly. So scary! Even the theme music was spooky. It had been unofficially banned from our house at night because we would stay up late watching it and then freak out all night about being kidnapped or abducted by aliens. But as they say: “When the mom and dad cats were away, the mice shall play!” SO when our parents went out of town overnight on a business trip for my Dad’s company, we were knee-deep in a marathon of “The Mysteries That Shall Not be Named”… or watched, or solved for that matter, before our folks ever got out of the subdivision. It was a lovely late spring evening and the windows in the tv room were wide open, welcoming the breeze of the season. A half hour into the marathon we were jumpy. One hour in we were down right terrified. When we heard that “the killer <was> still on the loose” in the state we lived in, we quickly shut all of the windows, locked the door and turned on every single light in the house. I think there was even discussion of recreating the scene from Home Alone where young Kevin had cardboard cutouts roaming the house on toy trains to make it seem like a party was happening as to escape certain doom. But then I think we got overwhelmed with the amount of work it would take… and our lack of working toy trains… and our inventory of zero cardboard cutouts… that we just decided Ace would make hamburgers on his George Foreman grill instead.

Ouch.

While Ace grilled us up some of his signature crumbly-to0-thick-and-kinda-raw-yet-somehow-burnt-burgers that we didn’t even have buns for, we made a pact to stay up all night and keep watch for axe murderers until our parental units arrived home in the morning. Ace actually came up with the plan mid-yawn. And by 2am, that bish had snuck up to his room after claiming he was “going to be right back, I have to go to the bathroom.” To keep ourselves awake, the remaining siblings; Rhino, Logan and I decided to mess with Ace. So Rhino and I snuck upstairs to Ace’s room, while Logan hid in the closet at the front door. Rhino and I took a deep breath to stop laughing, and then ran around upstairs screaming out “AHHHH! THE FOREMAN GRILL!!! AHHH!!! THE HOUSE IS ON FIRE! IT’S ON FIRE! HELP HELP!” as we banged on pots with wooden spoons. (I’m not sure why the pots and spoons were how we thought fires worked, but Ace didn’t ask any questions.)

GOO!

Ace shot out of bed in his tighty whities and darted down the steps and into the front yard. It was as if he had been pulled out of the house on a string. There was no rubbing of the eyes or sleepy stumbling, just haul-ass darting out of the house nearly naked. (Besides the panties and ever-fashionable tube socks, that is.)

At first we were entertained, but then we were like – “Hey, he didn’t even look for any of us!” Ace didn’t even look back. He didn’t yell inquiries. There was no “Here! Take my hand! Follow me!” or “I’ll fashion a ladder out of these sheets and we will all climb down to sweet freedom! Together!” Nothing. Not even, “If this shit is on fire, where’s all the smoke?” Just half naked Ace running so fast out of the house he left the front door open and a tube sock at the base of the front steps. Like some kind of stinky Cinderella. Logan popped out of the closet and closed the door. Then we turned on all the outside flood lights and watched Ace walk around the yard for ten minutes scratching his head and climbing over bushes. It might have been one of those “it’s funny because I’m sleep-deprived” moments, but to this day I STILL crack up at the thought of Ace running around the front yard half naked under a floodlight, throwing rocks at the house (he must have not known how fires worked either) while we giggled and watched him through the peep hole.

TAKE THAT, FIRE!

Eventually Ace came to the front door because he heard us laughing so loudly. He wasn’t even mad. He just was all “Well dang, all I could think was Mom and Dad are going to be pissed if I burned this mother down with the George Foreman Grill!” Again, nothing about his burnt siblings. Bahaha I love you Ace! Brothers are the best!

Boy Scouts Done Lost They Mind!

We live in a neighborhood – and in said neighborhood we have “The Scouts” – Girls and Boys. Having been a Girl Scout, when fundraising season comes along I certainly don’t mind Smith handing out seven bucks for a box of Caramel Delights – or that he buys enough Thin Mints to keep himself sustained long after the apocalypse – but Boy Scouts?! You guys have lost your badge-loving minds. WHO CHARGES $55 for popcorn?! Are the Boy Scouts run by crazy people? Who’s making this popcorn? One Direction and the 1996 cast of Friends? Listen, this is not Mayflower times. Corn is no longer “the hot new thing on the streets,” so stop charging us like these nuggets are made of gold.

But she taught y'all how to make that shit!

Damn, that’s cold. She taught y’all how to make that shit.

If I had to sustain myself with popcorn, I’d be dead by lunchtime… of boredom. There aren’t even fortunes or magical gems in this stuff. Every year y’all sucker us in by sending those lil cuties around in their tiny neckerchiefs, but y’all won’t get me again. I KNOW HOW TO PRETEND I’M NOT HOME LIKE A CHAMP!

Ding Dong – no one’s home, chumps!

Come back after hurricane season and I will give you my Chef Boyardee cans, but until you guys stop thinking you are selling popcorn to Donald Trump, I ain’t buying. Hmm popcorn or gas for the month – which should I choose? Doi. How’s about I just give you ten dollars, you make some cookies and keep your popcorn for the rich and famous?

Additionally, y’all better start waving back after fundraising season is over or I’m turning the sprinkler settings on randomize. Acting like you don’t know my ass – but bishes gotta offload some kernels and all the sudden it’s like “Oh Hi, Miss Nicole!” Then a month later I wave and y’all act like I’m passing out candy bars and puppies from a van with no windows.

Shut up, you live next door and I baby sat you twice.

Game. Set. Match. I WON’T BE FOOLED AGAIN!

P.S. The winter theme on the tin was lovely.

How to Tie a Tie – In 5 Easy-NEVER

Any other girls ever curious about how to tie a tie? As a child, I was always fascinated watching my Dad magically turn a piece of oddly shaped cloth into a beautifully tied knot. I think because my Dad was a business man and not really the creative type – so seeing him whip the loose ends of the tie around so purposefully and artistically made me think he was some kind of secret artist I’d never heard of. (Because he was secret, you see.) You’d think with that much fascination that I would have been tying ties all my life like a mullafugga, right? Wrong. Tie knot instructions are lost on me. Let me take you through learning to tie a tie with me in “five easy steps.”

STEP ONE: “Cross the wide end over the narrow, then slip the wide end up between the tie and the collar, then simply drop it back down.”

My reaction to step one: I’m excited! —> “Oh yeah! I always wanted to do this… like professionally! Here’s my chance! Okay, concentrate!”

STEP TWO: “Wrap the wide end behind the narrow end from right to left.”

My thoughts: “Hmm I’ll read a few more steps and then find me a tie! Yes! This is gonna be awesome! I’ll be tying everyone’s ties! They will know me and my tie knots throughout the land! Gasp, maybe I’ll even invent a knot! HOLY CRAP!…”

STEP THREE: “Bring the wide end in front and over the loop between the collar and tie.”

My thoughts: “Eff this, I’m out.”

Then I go eat a bunch of chocolate and contemplate my life choices.

Not even sorry.

Luckily Smith can tie his own, or I can tie him a nice bow-like tie, as if it was intended for a present – which could totally work around the holidays.

Can you tie a tie? THEN SHUT THE HELL UP AND GET OUTTA MY FACE!

😉

Cordially Yours,

FU

If you’d like to learn to tie a tie, try Esquire (5 steps, in images like above).

Legend of the Suburban Orangutan

So, today Smith is out on a job and I am at home alone. I woke up late, took my lil buddy dog for a leisurely stroll, made some art, and spent some time with my kitten looking at pictures of cats online before ultimately heading to the shower, to blow the cumulative stank offa me.

boop. boop. boop.

After singing my best Journey medley for fifteen to twenty minutes, I exited my shower oasis and searched for my towel. It wasn’t on the door – because I took it off and walked around the house with it over my shoulder for ten minutes of pre-shower resistance. No big deal, I’ll just go out and get it – right?

Wrong. Smith forgot to tell me that the pest inspection dude was coming today. Therefore, I bust out in all my naked glory only to find a dude standing in our window with an oversized toilet brush. In my uncoordinated panic I twisted my ankle, yelled out ACK! as if I were the real-life Kathy cartoon, and dove into the bedroom like I just heard someone yell they cut the wrong wire on a bomb they were diffusing.

BOOM!

Worst yet, EVERY PIECE OF CLOTHING I OWN IS CURRENTLY IN THE WASH ROOM – WHICH IS OUTSIDE THROUGH THE GARAGE! So currently, I’m writing this post while holed up in Smith’s closet (it’s the only place with no windows) sitting in a giant t-shirt that I think has a picture of Michael Jordan on it.

So life like. It’s like I’m looking at a photo!

The way I was awkwardly moving and thus unflattering angle making, I’d bet that the pest dude just thought he saw a suburban orangutan. I’m praying his eyes could not adjust to fully understand what he was seeing due to the bright sun outside. Either way, this dude is dead to me now. There will be no waving. There will be no small talk. I KNOW WHAT YOU SAW, BUDDY! You couldn’t even throw me a courtesy knock or doorbell? Boo. I quit us.

I look much hairier in motion.

Thank You Thursdays!

When I realize it’s Thursday, (because normally I do not know what day of the week it actually is and I go by “it feels like a Tuesday today” kind of logic) I’m going to make a conscious effort to post something I am thankful for- because “Thankful Thursdays” sounds good and I’m going to make this a universal thing just like that time when I made short busses come into style. With that, today I’m thankful for the ability to find humor in most anything. It always makes life entertaining. Let me share a few random places that have left me with the giggles lately:

1. This quote from Michael Scott on The Office about a character he made up and cried about for a non-existant movie he never made:

He had no arms or legs. He couldn’t see, hear, or speak. This is how he led a nation.

*This* is how he led a nation? *This* is? That just makes me lmao!

2. That time I saw an ice cream truck that read “Watch out for the childrens.” That’s right, “childrens” – with an s. How many dang kids are eating popsicles there that “children” needs to become more plural?!

WAIT FOR ME ICE CREAM MAN!

3. This girl’s reaction to seeing her spotty coverage map on this Verizon commercial:

What the hell am I seeing right now?!

4. This meme @SngleMomConfssn posted about diets:

JUST SHUT UP!

JUST SHUT UP!

5. The sign burning out on our Embassy Suites, to only reveal “Assy Suites” (Forgive the blurriness, Smith was driving at the speed of light and I took this shot right before we blasted back in time.)

Dang, I gotta mini fridge and a writing desk - these suites is assy as hell! *4 stars*

“Dang, I gotta mini fridge and a writing desk – these suites is assy as hell!” *4 stars*

6. Inspirational Mr. T on a unicorn:

Follow your dreams, fool!

7. And this “What I gotta put this on, #PowerRanger?” quote from this girl about it being to hot out side this past summer. (NSFW – language)

Bahaha! Laughing is good. Anyhoo – find something that makes you laugh and share it today! Happy Thank You Thursday!

Seadon’ts

I love wave runners. My lovah loves wave runners. So much so that we have been tempted to buy them several times, and only haven’t because A. we lack a place to store them properly and B. we don’t live on the water… yet. So when visiting the Keys (one of our favorite places to Seadoo, by the way) and some dude with an Irish accent says he offers “relaxing tours of the Island on wave runners…at your own pace… for 20% off” we were WAY on board!

We arrived at the shack and Irish guy was nowhere to be found. They wouldn’t couldn’t take our 20% coupon we just got that morning even though they said they would when we reserved the tour. The weather seemed a bit foreboding, but we were assured, “Nah, that’s nothing – the tour is still on, man!” After being issued a life preserver that smelled like a giant foot, we all (about 10 of us) followed Cheech and Chong on our cracked up wave runners. Cheech gathered us about 50 feet out from the shore and told us that we would all follow each other in a line, and to read his hand signals, ya know “for safety.” Then the bitch proceeded to tear outta the lagoon at what looked like 1700MPH leaving everyone in his ocean mist dust.

This thing is outta control!

At that point, I was thinking… “Man, it sure feels like someone’s going to die today, but maybe I’m just getting use to the waves or something.” Smith was booking it on our wave runner to catch up with the asshat tour guides and I am certain in my fight to stay on the back of that thing that I pulled out several of his nut hairs.

RIP Smith’s Nut Hairs – we will never forget.

The ocean was so volatile that we were hitting waves at about 60MPH then shooting up into the air and dropping at least 5 feet… every five seconds. Some swells going by made our view of the now grain-of-sand-sized tour dudes obsolete. Cheech eventually stopped about 25 minutes into the “tour with breathtaking views and vistas.” He addresses the group:

“Yeah so you guys need to go faster and keep up with me. It gets smoother if you go really fast. (Note: It does not.) Also it looks like we got some pretty severe weather happening right now that we didn’t know about when we left (even though EVERYONE was ASKING before we left) so make sure you avoid the lightning, and it’s probably gonna get pretty bad and… so let’s go!” That’s right, “avoid the lightning.” Because lighting is predictable as shit, said no one ever.

Just then a wave turns our wave runner over and we go flying unexpectedly through the deep silent abyss. When I make it to the surface all I hear is commotion and Cheech yelling “OMG ITS IN THE WATER!!! ITS IN THE WATER!!!” At which point I assume “it’s” a shark because the tour guide is screaming like a crazy person. “It” ended up being some sunglasses and if I hadn’t just been rocked to the core at the thought of being eaten alive I would have slapped this bitch like they used to slap women in the olden days to calm them down.

Smith talked me into getting back on the shit taco to finish the tour (I had already begun to swim the mile or so to shore after this fiasco). We rode for about ten minutes before we got trapped in a thick pocket of fog rolling in and had to drift in the stormy sea for about 30 minutes. You couldn’t see the shore or other boats or… anything but whoever was right next to you. For me that was a couple of Seadoos and a hand full of Smith’s nut hairs. It was during this time that I saw psycho tour guide’s assistant, Chong, floating around eating a muthafugging homemade sandwich. How the heck did he get that out there? AND WHY DIDN’T HE BRING ENOUGH FOR EVERYONE?!?!

Later, dudes.

End result is, we didn’t see anything scenic, and we feared for our lives for *three and a half* hours on our *two* hour tour. If you’re in the Keys, unless you KNOW it’s a beautiful calm day, SKIP THIS SHIT! Don’t listen to sweet-talking Irish guy. His pot-o-gold is full of lies!

EFF YOU BAREFOOT BILLY’S!

Your Lady Garden and You – a magical journey.

An awesome friend of mine has a daughter who has “become a woman.” Talking about it with her has made me think back to when I was that age and all of my friends were dropping like flies into the monsoons of their lady gardens – so I have decided to make a quick post to let you young ladies know, “it gets better.”

It gets better, ladies.

How to manage:

A. I like to refer to the area in a comical manner. “Lady Garden” seems to suit it well. No one wants to be clinical when it comes to discussing things with anyone that isn’t a doctor. Even with a doctor I struggle to be clinical without throwing up in my mouth a little. Referring to it as your Lady Garden, or some other quirky name, makes it way easier to joke and discuss the happenings therein with your friends. Note: Well before the term “Lady Garden” was officially adopted, my Grandma referred to it as a “Muffin” and your “Muffin Basket.” Which I always found hilarious. To this very day I use the terms interchangeably.

B. Therefore that “time of the month” can easily be stated as “It’s raining in my lady garden” or “I have soggy muffins.”

C. Pads, tampons, various accoutrements associated with your Lady Garden/ Muffin Basket are to be known as “party favors.” Then no one ever has to overhear you asking anyone for anything. “I forgot my party favors, do you have one?!”

D. Speaking of tampons – wait ’til you go to college for those things. Or be like me and kinda wait ’til you graduate college and you panic because a group of friends with a boy your interested in book a vacation in a tropical beach oasis where you’ll have to wear a swimsuit nearly every day. Either way, you’ll need to buy some extras and practice… by “practice” I mean lock yourself in the bathroom yelling out “AAAAAKKK WHAT IS HAPPENINNNGGG????” for 30 to 75 minutes of uncomfortable joy. Tip: If at any point after you put it in, you can still feel it, you’re doing it wrong. You gotta be sure to push that party favor to the top of the mountain or you’re sure to fail the expedition.

Yeah, you’re doing it wrong.

E. Everyone is freaking out about it. If “they” ever make fun of you for anything it’s because they’re terrified of whatever it is happening to them. So in that sense if anything embarrassing ever does happen, you’re kinda like a super hero who lived to tell the tale! Also, if they’re making fun of you in general it’s probably because the weren’t hugged enough as a child – or they have a secret hairy mole that their parents lovingly named Petunia. Anyhoo, be strong young padawan.

F. Find a partner in crime that can “spot check” for you. Come up with a code phrase like “Do you *know* when football season starts?” *wink wink* Then you can scoot out and let her check to see if your Lady Garden fountain has sprung a leak. (Know that 97 out of 100 times it has NOT. We’re just paranoid.)

Wink Wink.

G. You know that tiny useless pocket in your backpack or purse that’s good for nothing? Well it’s good for hiding the holy grail of emergency party favors. I had a friend that would wrap them up in a piece of aluminum foil incase it ever accidentally fell out of her bag while onlookers were present.

Nothing to see here, it’s just some tin foil!

I think a cheapo eye glasses case works wonders. One day you’ll grow to be unashamed and stash them in your boyfriend’s car door, or in your tiny azz purse for all the world to gaze upon, like me!

There may come a time….

1. There may come a time that you spring a leak while you are waiting in a lobby for your best friend and designated spot checker to get out of advisor counseling. Even though you are wearing jean shorts and drinking a Blue Coconut Route 44 slush that you guys got on happy hour at Sonics that matches the color of your jeans perfectly, do not try to dye your pants in the handicapped stall of the school bathroom. This plan ends in disaster because you have to wet your entire shorts in order to make it look like you didn’t just pee yourself by only trying to dye the “affected areas.” Also, it’s cold in there and you miss out on the rest of your delicious half-priced slush.

Blue Coconut Slushes For EVERYONE!

2. There may come another time when a friend is hip hopping through the school giving Friday end-of-day shout outs to everyone she knows with (unknowingly) her pad sticking out of her short’s leg. Do not panic. Run over to her, back her into the lockers, give her your gym shirt and tell her “Do not ask any questions, tie this around your waist and go to the bathroom… NOW!” You guys will still have time to call your mom to pick you both up because you missed the bus home.

Nothing to see here, folks.

3. There may yet still come another time that your friends all plan a trip to a water park while it is about to rain in your Lady Garden. This is a time you may want to investigate using the torpedo of party favors, or avoid going in the water past your knees. Whatever you do, do not ride “The Black Hole” high speed water slide with a pad on. You go in looking like the Queen and come out looking like a brick layer… or a brick smuggler to be more accurate. Luckily, you found someone to walk behind you while you hurry to the bathroom to panic and marvel at the amount of water one of those things can soak up.

Nope, nothing.

Keep in mind, the best way to get through anything difficult is to know that someone else got through it too. Share your embarrassing stories with your friends that embarrassing things happened to. It will make them feel better and both of you will always know that with a little laughter, “it <always> gets better!”

hehehehehehehehehehe