Anjee's joke of the day

An ugly woman walks into a shop with her two kids.The shopkeeper asks "Are they twins"?The woman says "No, he's 9 and she's 7.Why? Do you think they look alike?""No", he replies "I just can't believe you got laid twice"!


*Rimsnot*




EDIT: upon posting this entry, I realized that I made a typo. RimsNot instead of RimsHot, however it made me giggle like a schoolgirl, so I am leaving it up for my own amusement.

NeenerNeener.

I'm a Man/Girl

You Are 80% Boyish and 20% Girlish

You have a tough exterior - and usually a tough interior to match it. You're no nonsense, logical, and very assertive. Sometimes you can't understand women at all, even if you're a woman yourself. You see things rationally, and don't like to let your emotions get the best of you.

How'>http://www.blogthings.com/howboyishorgirlishareyouquiz/">How Boyish or Girlish Are You?

Chronicles of AnjelinaBoBina: The Illness, Some Witch and my Wardrobe

Chapter One:

The Illness


Dear L. Ness,

I know that over the years we have had a bit of an on again/off again relationship. We never really hung out with any true committment. Somehow, we were just always good for a fling every few years. You'd show up for an impromptu visit, always bearing such wonderful gifts. Snot, sniffles, fever, chills, aches, nausea, cough etc. We'd pal around my bed and bathroom for a couple weeks, maybe have a few outings to the Doc's office, the Pharmacy, sometimes even the hospital and then part ways cordially. Occasionally you'd cart off a few pounds with you for keep sakes only to do it all again in a few year's time.
Now, I am not sure what has transpired in the years since we last hung out, but I do not recall ever re-evaluating the definition of our arrangement and deciding that it was time we had a more "committed" relationship. Don't get me wrong, Yuckies (you always liked it when I called you Yuckies, 'member?) I am not saying that what we have isn't special. It is. Sometimes your visits are a blessing after an overly bingeful Holiday season. And who doesn't enjoy a visit from L. Ness every couple winters, Huh? It gives me reason lie around on my sofa all day amidst a sea of wadded up snot rags watching marathons of Maury. However, I just don't feel as though things are heading in a direction I am really happy with. I feel like you're smothering me, Yuckies!! You have been here for close to TWO months! I had a bit of a life going but you keep running everyone and everything off. I can't even BREATHE! You are high maintenance and EXPENSIVE. I had to leave work because of you, and they wouldn't even let me come back until you were gone! I've been lying to everyone just to be able to make the money needed to try and move you out of here, but you aren't budging.
Okay, this is the deal, Mr. Ness.....I need you to leave. And the sooner the better. We can return to our previous arrangement of serious visits every few years as if none of this ever happened. But I cannot live under these conditions anymore. I need to breathe through my nose again!! I cant remember what it is like spend even just a few hours not coughing. My stomache is in a constant spasm from wretching and heaving. I dont want to have to involve the E.R. or Drs. again, so please don't make this any harder than it has to be. I will enlist the help of a broad spectrum antibiotic if necessary. I hope you don't let things progress to that point, Yuckies.
Please understand that this doesn't mean I never want to see you again. I know there is purpose to our relationship. Just know it's time that you go. You have overstayed your welcome. You need to see other people. Get out there, find a new healthy body to invade. You deserve that.
I have left your things by the door. Don't bother sticking around, even for tonight. It will only make things harder. Besides, I'm moving on. I have invited over some friends of mine that I haven't seen in quite some time. Promethazine will be here and he's bringing along codeine. I have asked cefuroxime over and you should know that oscillococcinum will be here as well. It won't be very comfortable for you around here anymore so you should just go now.
I will never forget the times we've shared, L. Ness. I will think back on all of them maybe even with a smile as time moves on. Absence makes the heart grow fonder they say. Let's try this "absence" thing for a bit.

Sincerely,
AnjelinaBoBina





Chapter Two:

Some Witch


It was a cold and blustery night, the wind whistled loudly outside. But inside, beneath ten pounds of covers, dressed comfortably in my flannel jammas I slept. Sound.

*Bddd-dd-ddddd-dd-d-ddddd-d-d-ddddd*

The phone vibrates my forehead. Half asleep, doped on medication I fumble around in the dark for the source of my annoyance.



Me: "mrghleFWELLO?!?!"
(insert ghetto twang)
StupidHeffa: "Who DIS?"
Me: "UuumWHA?"
StupidHeffa: "I saaaaaid WHO DIS?"
Me: "The person whose phone you called, who's THis?!" (Enunciating the 'TH' sound)
StupidHeffa: "You KNOW who dis is, don't play stupid, put Dontrell on da phone"
Me: "What?!?!?!?" "You've seriously got the wrong number"

*click*


*Bddd-dd-ddddd-dd-d-ddddd-d-d-ddddd*


Me: "Uhlo?"
StupidHeffa: "I KNOW you di'int just hang up da phone! Get Dontraaaaail!"
Me: "Oh, I'm sorry, forgive me for I assumed that when you heard the dialtone you would just "KNOW" (emphasizing the word 'know' as when you're making those quotation bunny ears) that I hung up. I do NOT know anyone by the name of Dontrell so don't call this number again looking for him. You should "KNOW" that I will be hanging up now"

*click*



(Repeat numerous times over the past several nights inserting appropriate ebonics and an increasingly aggitated Anjee.)



Chapter Three:

My Wardrobe


During the course of my sickness I had to do laundry. I have a ginormous machine so I just piled everything in there that was safe to wash together without obsessively seperating into a million mini piles. I was sick, I wanted to curl up in a ball on my bed a cry like a baby, I felt so bad...I had no ability to concern myself with whether or not blacks should mix with reds. I integrated. People have DIED for integration. There would be no segrated laundry that week, oh no. Not on *my* watch.

Sick or not, I had the good sense to know I wanted springtime fresh garments that smelled of morning dew. (Whatever the hell morning dew smells like) So I grabbed the bottle and freely poured it in, not even bothering to measure it in the bottlecap/measuring cup. Only, it wasn't fabric softener I poured into the washing machine that day.
It was bleach.

o.o

That's right, I said BLEACH.
Shut it!
I KNOW the bottles are shaped nothing alike, BUT I WAS SICK, DAMMIT!! REMEMBER?!?!?!?!

Sooo...I successfully destroyed the majority of my wardrobe, some towels and other assorted linens, ALL in one fell swoop.

Pure.
Freakin.
Genius.

All I could do was stare down into the machine as it happily twisted and turned my laundry until every piece was splotched and looked as though it had come down with vitiligo.

*sigh*

I never really liked clothes much anyway.