Fake Sun, Fat Rolls, Knee Slappin Funny (HNT)

Well I've never... Been the Barbie Doll type....

Yah, yah, yah.... it's true. I'm a full-figured, plus sized, curvified mama.

This fact doesn't bother me so much really. I'm hot for a curvy beyyyach!

I mean, I'd like to get back down to a smaller size, but I have no great ambition to become a size 2 cupie doll.

No. Those days have long passed my big ass by. 2 kids and Taco Bell... a snowballs chance in hell of being Barbie in this lifetime.

Which brings me to my thoughts for the day....

I absolutely love when somebody says something stupid.

People can really come off with utterly hilarious blurbs and not even know it.

In addition to amusing me greatly, it gives me something to blog about.

Seriously, kids, I don’t make this crap up. And boy, did this one amuse me…

Now I quote what I heard a chick say the other day:

"Tan fat is so much prettier than white fat."

I literally did a double take at her standing next to me as I was checking into the tanning bed.

It took everything in me not to fall over in the floor and gut laugh. Well, because I'm a sarcastic bitch.

What?!?! Tan fat? Pretty?

Hello, sweetheart. I’m here tanning, too.

And I’ll be honest. I see nothing pretty about tan fat as opposed to white fat.

Trust me on this.

I'm a walking ad for Lane Bryant fashions for women, so don't think I'm not saying something I wouldn't follow myself.

But when I look in the mirror there is nothing that makes me think that if I go and get a tan on my fat rolls that it will look any better.

Seriously, if you are fat and you have fat rolls, say like a Shar Pei puppy, it doesn't matter how tan it is.

Do you really think that having tan parts intermingled with the white fat rolls is pretty?

God bless the stand-up tanning bed, you can put your arms up in the air and alleviate those pesky white spots.

The only thing one can do to make ones fat rolls look prettier is cover them up with the proper clothing. I do.

And..... Happy Half Nekkid Thursday!!!!


Death March, Painful Shoes & A Subscription to Annoy Me Daily

Finally. A year after the proposal. Finally, after three changes in date, time and venue. Finally, after finding a wedding cake that didn’t resemble spiderman. Finally, after managing to locate and fit into a sexy yet firm suitable set of wedding underwear. Finally, we did it. We got hitched!

Of course, in our typical style, anything less than complete and utter chaos, followed by family drama and tradgedy simply wouldn't do.

I must say, my bridesmaids were stunning and wearing sexy gowns.

Nice tits, ladies! I couldn’t say it in the church, because well, it was church. But dang, everybody’s boobs looked superb in those dresses!

The boys didn’t look shabby either.

Ain’t it funny how a man in a classic black tux can make a girl weak in the knees?

It was actually beautiful, other than the bridesmaids walking to “Pray for the Dead and the Dead will Pray for you”.

I shit you not. It was not un-noticed by a single soul either.

Long story. I stress here and now, that it was an ooopsie on our part, as we didn’t listen to the concerto in full.

We thought, “Oh that’s beautiful” when we listened to it the first time and turned it off with listening to it all the way through.

So, two of the bridesmaids are walking to lovely strums of a classic string quartet, when it goes into the death march. Literally. Not good.

Sweet Jesus! I almost had a heart attack.

I decided I either need an ample amount of Jack Daniels right then and there or a mega dose of xanax as it was all I could do to keep from crying.

I’m back there yelling to Val “Oh shit! Oh Shit!!!!! Cut it off, cut it off!!”

Which he did, and we went on.

Deep breath. The Wedding March is going.

Walking with Daddy (who was thankfully on his best behavior and didn’t cause any shit whatsoever).

My daddy had come to the rehearsal drunker than cooter brown and was pure evil about my Ma. Not nice.

I FINALLY got up there to my man. The longest mile... you better believe it.

Ok, so here we go. Daddy gave me away and there I stood looking into the eyes of the man I was about to marry.

I never in my life imagined that I would have been nervous.

But I was. Xanax?? Didn't anybody find the damn Xanax???

We stood with everyone looking on… ohhhhh, the sweet, happy couple gazing at one another as “At Last” by Etta James played on.

Then, my friggin shoes started to hurt like hell and I was about to cry again.

We manage to exchange vows with me only tripping once over my tongue and having to start over.

Que the second song “If You Ever Have Forever In Mind”.

By this time, the butterflies have turned to dragons and I’m so nervous that I can feel myself turning red as a chipotle pepper getting over ripe in the sun.

I look at the pastor and say, “Is there anyway we can get him to turn this song off??”

”You really want the song cut?” He asked, looking at me like I’m crazy and then to Tony for reassurance that my head wasn’t going to spin 360 like something from the Exorcist.

“Yah, and the next one too. My shoes are killing me and I’m turning red.”

“You got it.” He said.

He got Val’s attention, music was cut. Moving right along.

We are now husband and wife.He pulled me close and laid the nicest kiss on me.

Dang. We’re in church here, pal, and you’re really turning me on.

Do you go to hell for getting turned on in church?

The only mishap was Lil T coming up to us mid-vows and yelling “Look Nana! Motorcycle.”

When he figured out everybody was lauging at him and saying, “Oh how cute.”, he took off.

So, not a single mishap that was YouTube worthy happened, dammit!

Oh wait... the death march...

I was just waiting for somebody to do something stupid.

We got it done! The ceremony itself was beautiful. Nobody burst into flames from getting too close to the unity candle, although Julie was standing pretty close and she has that sexy long hair.

But, nobody slid and fell off the stage, passed out or puked…

No puke is an awesome thing.

Next snafu:
We were in the midst of finding the photographer to make pictures after the ceremony, when we found out that the photographer had, in fact, left.

He had said to somebody, can’t remember who at this point, that he had plenty of pictures. I still don't have them.

Um. What?!?! I believe I’ll be the one to tell you when you’ve got enough damn pictures and when you can sit down and have cake!

But, I didn’t get the chance. He was gone.

Must have needed a beer or a shot of tequila or something. Whatever.

That’s when SUPERMAN appeared! My buddy Mark.

I was about to cry and there he was, yanking the camera out of the bag, snapping pictures of the wedding party, the reception, the friends, the family.

My friggin hero, I shit ya not!

Ok, so what else. The reception was interesting. There was one arguement and my cake was melting.

I pitched the bouquet, and Robyn (one of my best Pirate friends) snatched it up. She’s next anyway.

Tony flipped the garter…

Curtis (Robyn’s man) yoinked the garter! So, if it wasn’t already happening, it’s bound to happen now!

We cut cake...

drank wedding punch…

and decided it was time to cruise on outta there.

We proceeded to the truck to find it tastefully decorated with multiple condoms and window chalk.

Family-kid drama was on deck... but I am trying to forget all about it at this point.
Family-mom crisis hit with Big T's mom that day too, but all turned out well.

Anyhoo, I suppose it doesn't make any difference how we got there. I got the ring, he gets a life long subscription to Annoy Me Daily magazine for men.


Hooters, Jolly Roger, Biker Underwear & A Naughty Chicken

It's Tuesday again kids and you know what that means!!! A naughty chicken in honor of my bachelorette party and Speedcat Hollydale's quest to bring joy to an otherwise boring existence.

Ya gotta love a bunch of Pirate Chicks along with those who dare to come along for the ride.

They never let a special event go by without celebrating with cake and alcohol.

Becky and Natalie decided that come hell or high water there should be a bachelorette party the week before the wedding.

Thank God they had the sense not to have the party the night before the wedding or I would have never made it.

Yes, my friends. I got soused.

Diva + cold beer + shots of jack = hangover city

It was a beautiful evening, not too hot, not too cold. We all met up at Hooters for dinner and a drink. It was nice. Our little waitresses were super sweet, although I must say, I honestly thought I'd see more tits and ass. Not that they weren't precious in their little Hooters gear, they were. But my 14 year old neice has more boobie and butt than these poor girls had.
Meet Ashley and Felicia:

The Hot boneless chicken tenders were tasty as all hell, my lips were nice and tingly for a while though. The girls decided to get me a cute little shirt to commemorate the joyous occassion.

In general, Hooters doesn't see many bachelorette parties, but they do get hoards of bachelor parties... So, they improvised and got the Bachelor Party Shirt and turned into a Bachelorette Party shirt that all the little girls in tight Hooter's shirts signed with loves n kisses.

We decided that it was time to continue on and move the festivities to Coyote Joe where Natalie and Holly had decorated and made it look like a scene from a slasher flick with the "Wild Girls- Caution" tape.
They adorned Diva with a princess tiara which boldly stated that I am indeed the Bride to Be... and if there was any question left due to the tiara being hiddeny by my hair which was erect like a hard penis, then the big Bride to Be button aptly placed between my breasts certainly gave it away.

So, we go in and invade the corner lot of CJ, nothing different there.

Olga made a real honest to God rum cake. It was a Jolly Roger, cuz she knows how pirates roll.

We love the booty, especially rum laced booty.

It was time to have a little fun. We had games on tap, and honestly, watching them set up the Pin the Bow-Tie on the Bachelor was more fun than playing it. Amanda gave the poster a hard on when she licked it from thigh to belly-button.

And Steph gave our bachelor a nice sized penis to look at...

We had Do the Dare Cards. The name alone implies that there will be some mischief going on.

I need to state that, I, as the bride to be, didn't do anything extreme.

Quite the contrary, I was very well behaved.

Four of the six cards I drew from the deck were completed by our sweetheart of a bouncer. God bless you, Steve-O!

Diva's cards dared her to:
-get the bouncer to laugh for 100 points. Done!
-get a hunk to give her a neck massage. Done!
-get the phone number of a hot guy. Done!
-get a man to show you a hidden tattoo. Done! It was on his upper thigh.
-get the bartender to give you a free drink. Done!
-find a guy, grab his ass, and tell him he has a nice ass. Done! Twice.
(Steph was witness. Two guys, two butts, double points!)

Here are some photos of the festivities! Enjoy!

Shawna found a baldguy & kissed him on top of his head.

Natalie and Amanda took the cake when they talked one of the big biker boys out of his drawers.


Round Five- Moonshiners, Tourist Traps & Neuschwanstein

After the complete and total nervous breakdown Ma had while getting us from Hannover in the north or Germany to Munich in the south, we were both totally excited about getting on a bus and sightseeing with the other tourists schlepping about.

It was one of those whoop ass double decker numbers.

The cool thing about a guided tour is that you can just kick back, not worry about directions, not worry about getting lost.

So, it's Sunday morning. It's 7:00 am. It's cold. It's cloudy. It's a mile and half walk to the tourist trap station where all the tour buses meet to load. Brrrr.

Again, thank God for Starbucks being worldwide.

This is David. David was our tour guide. He was a friggin riot. Sarcasm, check.
This guy spoke fluently English, Spanish, German, Chinese & Italian. Dayum.

They load us up. Spanish and English speaking folks on bus #1. That would be us.

We found a seat mid way back on the upper deck and settled in for the ride and listen to David say he's coming around to meet and greet in a minute... in English then in Spanish.

Once the bus gets a movin, David comes around to collect the cash for entrance to the castles.

Sort of a sucky McDucky deal, we'd already paid more than 80 Euro for the "tour", nothing said admittance to the places we were going wasn't included.

As he collected, he was chitty chatting with everybody. He asked where we were from. I said "Tennessee" with my very bestest southern twang.

David smiles, "Ahhh, Jack Daniels comes from there. You like Jack?"

I smile even bigger, "Buddy, I love Jack, Jim and Jose."

We laugh. He goes on. I go back to sipping coffee and kicking back.

Money collected. David goes back down and gets on the speaker thing.

"Ok, kids. We are about an hour from Linderhoff Castle. Now there will be lots of tour buses there with lots of groups. It is very, very important that you understand that when I call for you, you get to me."

I look at mom. "Heh. They'll leave our asses if we wander off."

Mom said, "Shut up and listen."

I think Mom was starting to grow tired of me. 9 days had been enough for her.

David continues..... "Now, I could say 'group 1", but there will be alot of 'group 1's'. So, what I like to do is give each of my groups a unique name. And you, babies, will be called 'Moonshiners' named for the folks from Tennessee."

*blinkie* *look at Ma*

"Ain't that some shit, Mama. He digs that I dig Jack. I knew my alcoholic tendencies would pay off in fame one day and now I've got a whole friggin tour named after me."

"You're adopted."

So, on we go. Up a steep ass mountain. Now looking down off the edge of that mountain from the upper deck of that bus just about made me yack.

It was beautiful out there though, once we got to the top anyway.

First stop was Linderhoff Castle. It wasn't really a castle. It was just an overdone house. But it was awesome inside.

King Ludwig, the crazy brother that built it and the other castle, was very particular.

Of course, the castle polize would take your camera and throw you in castle jail if they caught you taking pictures inside.

So, we go through the inside. Ornate. Beautiful. Gold everywhere.
About 5 minutes after we get through, we here it...
"MOONSHINERS!! Get to the bus, pronto!"

Back on the bus, we start off an hour to the east to Neuschwanstein. We went through a little town where the cool little houses were painted like pictures from fairy tales.

The bus was tooling fast but I caught one of them... Hansel & Gretel...

Finally, we get to Neuschwanstein.

Now, this is the castle that Cinderella's castle is based off of at Disney.

This is a mo-hunkin castle.

Anyway, David tells us we have an hour and 40 minutes before our tour for lunch and to walk our asses 1.25 miles from where we were to the gates.

You guessed it. I only thought the stairs of death hurt me.

We had to walk from where I stood to take this picture all the way up...

SHIT!!!! My fat ass is outtta shape!!!

This is Ma telling me not to take a picture of her ass...

Heh... This is a picture of Ma's ass...

This is Me & Vashi (a chick we sat with at lunch) hoofin ass up the mountain...

We finally made it!! David was there to greet us... He smelled like Gin.

This is from the top of the high tower to the north... Bungee jumping?? Anybody???

Anyway, we made it through, without going to castle jail.

But, what a jip, it was only 1/4 of the way completed on the inside.

Ain't it funny, that even in a 400 year old castle, they can make you exit through the gift shop???


Round Four ~ Won Tons, Manicotti & Haufbrau Haus Beer Garten

I wandered over to Speedcat Hollydale's page today for the first time. Interesting stuff.
In honor of this visit... I post a chicken!

I never realized eating in a forgein country would be so damn difficult.

First, I am the second pickiest bitch you will ever meet in your life, behind the boy of course... he'd have starved to death.

Ok, being the typical American tourist type, not to mention a closed minded, livin in the box kinda girl, I never realized that Chinese people that run a chinese restaurant in Germany wouldn't speak English.

It was odd to me that they spoke Chinese and German and not English.

Go figure, huh?

But, the place was across the street from our hotel, and smelled really, really good.

The only lucky part is the menu did have English, I can point and the chick could speak some limited broken English.

Chicken Won-Ton Soup: #3 on the menu.
Mini-Spring Roll: #2 on the menu.
Cashew Chicken: #42 on the menu.

Best Won-Ton Soup I ever have had... EVER.

Since I am afraid of anything ending in -wurst or-snitzel, I steered clear of tradtional German food.

God forbid I pork-penis-wurst or something like that.

I'm sure I'd yack.

It's not like I can translate German to English very well.

We were in Pforzheim the first several days:

So, we ate Chinese food at the same place on Sunday and Monday nights.

The Tuesday night, we switched off for some Itatlian. The spinich manacotti was yum and the wine was a-flowin.

Then Wednesday night, we were gonna give the Brazilian place a crack.

But I wussed out, paid for my beer and ran away. They couldn't speak the English and I couldn't figure out anything but shrimp from the Brazilian/German menu.

I don't do shrimp.

So, we ended up back at the Chinese place again, where we were greeted with..
"Hello. You wanta Coka Light and Hotta Tea, yes?"

With a sweet smile I tell her, "Of course and can we have the same table by the window?"

I know she had to be thinking... Crazy American bitch won't eat anything.

She's right. I have food fears.

Then we went to Hannover:

Thursday night we ate food from the hotel bar, which is always tasty with beer.

Bar food = GOOD.

Friday night, we had another awesome Italian dinner with the owner of my company.

Then to Munich:
Saturday night, I finally broke down.

Mommy & Me went to Haufbrau Haus Beer Garten in Munich.

It's one of the oldest original beer joints with 400 years o' history.

Oktoberfest was over. Missed it by a week.

But you couldn't tell it by the guy on the table who had a bucket on his head and was leading the whole place in a German ding dong sing-along.

After several pints of some the delicious brew, I was starting to pack a nice buzz.

So, I broke down and ate stewed steak smothered in roasted onions (DAYUM!!) and some kind of potatoes.

The beer was the best ever though. It didn't have that watery as piss taste to it.

Sunday night, we found us another Chinese place. It was pretty tasty and it overlooked downtown Munich..

So, I guess I totally blew the opportunity to expand my culinary palate...

I suck. If it ain't Taco Bell, I don't want it.

I do know one thing for shizzly. Germany has the corner on the beer and ice cream markets. It was grub and I had my fair share.


Round Three - Heidelberg Castle

My pal, Markus from Pforzheim, decided that we needed to go to Heildelberg to the Castle grounds and wander as it was a beautiful Sunday afternoon. We parked the car and looked up the hill. There it was, as it was last time I was in there, very eery yet beautiful.

I assummed (ass-u-me) that we would go the same way I had went in last time.

Up a nice stable incline to the front of the grounds. Not so much.

Let's just say I assumed way wrong.

We ended up climbing the STAIRS OF DEATH.

All 315 of them.

Straight up.

On the bright side, I was feelin bad that I thought I was gonna have a heart attack because I smoke and I was climbing stairs...

until my non-smoking Ma almost fell out too!!

Thanks for making me feel good about being me, Mom!! I loves ya!

And here are Mommy & Me at the top in the gardens.

We survived the climb.

Since that was in October, now I can say it was worth the pain & suffering.

Although in total ruins from WWII...

still a very beautiful place...

"I'll give ya $5 if you'll jump across and act like you're makin out with that pee-ing statue. Obed (her pastor) will never know. I swear I won't tell him and Jesus will forgive you."

Constantly antogonizing poor Ma is what I live for.

"Ya right, you take pictures of everything and use them for your benefit."

For an older broad she catches on quick.

I DO take pictures of everything.

She's right though. I'd have saved it as leverage for later...

"Be nice, or I'll send this picture of you to the ladies group, Missy."

That's just the way I roll.

So, the front of the place is actually in pretty good shape.

Supposedly the last prince of Heidelburg got pissed at his lady and jumped out the window...

... and all that was left was his footprint where he hit the ground so hard...

yah, yah, yah... a little Heidelburg bullshit there.

Heard that from no less than 6 German types trying to amuse us.

Didn't work.

After we finished wandering the castle grounds, we hoofed it through the downtown area.

All I can say is God Bless Starbucks Heidelburg.

It was cold, it was dark and I needed java.

I know, I know...

I make fun of all things Starbucks.

But when you're that far away from home with all the strange sights and smells of a foriegn place...

let me tell ya... you're thankful for Starbucks.

Also thankful that Markus went in and ordered....

Diva don't brechen zi duetch.