Pooper Scooper and the Hazards of Walking

This one is an oldie, but still a goodie for a laugh … even if it’s at my own stinky expense!

When I can talk myself into it, I put on my iPod and blast Springsteen and Tom Petty for the next two and a half miles while I speed walk on the horse trail in my neighborhood. I’ve never seen any horses, only people and pet owners who think the trail is a lavatory for their pets.  About a mile and a half into my walk, I saw a big clump of poop and I side-stepped to avoid it.  I twisted my ankle on a small hole in the ground and I fell face first. My face missed the other turd ahead but my hands landed splat on them. Read more of this post

Love, Betrayal and Venereal Disease over Cocktails

Screen Shot 2011-10-04 at 11.25.58 PMI had drinks with two friends from high school “E” and “N” the other day. After a round of drinks the talk as always, when three crazy chicks get together, got into relationships. Since my love life is as dry as the Sahara desert on a drought and “N‘s” been married forever, which is why she’s more interested in tech gadgets these days, the conversation turned to “E‘s” love life. Here’s the DL.

She dated this guy who gave her his email password so she can check on their hotel reservations for an upcoming vacation. First of all SCHLONGS never give a chick your password unless you REALLY have nothing to hide. Well … so what’s a girl to do with all access to her boyfriend’s email? Well …

“SNOOPYMAIL” of course” Read more of this post

Holiday Colonic

Ever had a conversation and the chat just digressed to sex? Well … I was talking to a friend about getting hydrotherapy after the holidays. Here’s how it went:

Me: I think I’m going to do hydrotherapy after the holidays.

Him: What’s that?

Me: When you get water shot up your bum!

Him: Bleech!

Me: You have lots of toxic stuff in your gut!

Him: Well I’m not getting anything going up my butt!

Me: You should … you’re probably full of shit as we speak. Read more of this post

Truth about Food Poisoning and Fine Dining

Tell me about your fine dining experience 🙂

Get the CCC Badge

Join the Crazy Chicks Club

Join the Crazy Freaks Club

Join the B.A.D Club

© 2011 Lafemmeroar

Health, Excess and Holiday Stress

Thanksgiving took a toll on my body. I ate and drank as if it were the last day on earth.When I woke up Friday I found a note on my pillow.

***

Dear Lafemme,

By Tibor Végh (Tenerife 2010 124.JPG) [CC-BY-3.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0)%5D, via Wikimedia Commons

After months of eating healthy you finally cleansed your body of the toxins you’ve been polluting it with for most of your life. And in one day you ruined all that hard work by opening your pie hole to all that fatty food loaded with butter, eggs and who knows what else. To top it off, you imbibed so much booze that you were barely able to walk straight at the end of the night. What kind of way is that to treat your inner organs? Do you want to end up looking like a crazy chick version of this whale man on the beach?

Have you no shame? Read more of this post

Medical terms you won’t find on WebMD

Jerkteria: A micro-organism extremely attracted to cells with low-self esteem.

Venereal Idiocy: A lapse in judgement usually due to extreme horniness.

Superficialism: The addiction to surgical procedures that reverse the sign of aging on the outside without reversing the rot on the inside.

Couchanism: One who is addicted to therapy even though they are beyond treatment.

Bedbugging: The constant poking of the person sleeping next to you to see if they’re awake.

SARS (Singles Addicted to Romantic Silliness): Single chicks who are unable to comprehend that in reality knights in shinning armor are full of rust.

ABC (Alternative Birth Control): The act of simultaneous masturbation Read more of this post

Weight Loss Revelations

Wikimedia Commons--Circus Divas Illustrations Gallery--

I’ve had an ongoing battle with food

since I was old enough to chew. I love

to eat and portion control is Latin to

me. Before I turned 40 I could eat

anything and I continued to win the

battle. Lately, my losses“have gained,”

but I don’t want to lose the war.

My weight loss revelation came when I said this to myself ...

  

You know you need to lose weight when:

Your muffin top has become a soufflé that won’t deflate

Your fat pants have become your skinny pants

Jabba the Hutt looks like a size medium compared to you

Your undies Read more of this post

Meditation schmeditation: I know a better way to relax

Feeling tense and bothered has made me a very unproductive writer. I’ve been working on a book and I just can’t seem to get my revisions done. I needed to fix the plot holes and other issues of my “great novel” that at this point was far from great. So, I thought perhaps meditation would help release me from my writer’s block.

But clearing my mind is a difficult thing to do. It’s analogous to cleaning the house. I dust, I vacuum, I throw out the junk. But in time all that mess comes back and like Sisyphus, I’m back pushing that rock up the hill. I hate cleaning, but it has to be done. If I can do this Read more of this post

Pooper Scooper and the Hazards of Walking

When I can talk myself into it, I put on my iPod and blast Springsteen and Tom Petty for the next two and a half miles while I speed walk on the horse trail in my neighborhood. I’ve never seen any horses, only people and pet owners who think the trail is a lavatory for their pets.  About a mile and a half into my walk, I saw a big clump of poop and I side-stepped to avoid it.  I twisted my ankle on a small hole in the ground and I fell face first. My face missed the other turd ahead but my hands landed splat on them. Read more of this post

Hot Yoga, Doritos and Stinky Cutie

In my never-ending quest to maintain my, zaftig figure, I signed up for a hot yoga class. My friend said that it was the best thing she’s ever done and that I should do it because I’d love it too. I’ve exercised doing yoga before with videos, but I had never taken a class.

I went armed with my yoga mat, a towel and a humongous bottle of frozen water since I was going to be in a 100 degree room for the next hour and a half stretching, bending, balancing, detoxifying and generally finding peace and balance. Actually, screw the peace and balance part, I wanted to sweat out the pounds.

Well dear readers, my olfactory sense is super cunning and I can smell “stink” before it hits the air and believe me when I say that the toxic smell of feet unfortunately reminds me of Doritos. It was a Doritos factory in that hot yoga studio. Was the smell coming from the feet or the carpet? What’s the difference?

I wanted to get out of there, but I thought about the twenty dollars I paid to take the class so I braved it. It was a full class, but I found a  spot in the back. A few minutes later this dark-haired cutie plants himself right in front of me. Things were looking up when he smiled at me; I smiled back. Then he took off his sneakers and holy “beegeezuz” the fumes from the sour stench of feet had hit the hot air waves. My smile turned into a grimace. My new Romeo had turned into a stinky cutie. But it was feet after all. I couldn’t really fault him for that. After all I’m sure mine didn’t smell like roses either. But I, at least, had the foresight to wear flip-flops and let my feet breath.

The class began.  I had gotten used to the stale Doritos smell and as long as  stinky cutie didn’t stick his feet up in the air and in front of me I’d be okay. I wasn’t taking deep breaths like you’re supposed to though.  Twenty minutes into the class I was sweating but okay. We had started the down dog position which I was very familiar with (if you know what I mean) and transitioned that into the upward dog (something I wasn’t very familiar with).  Then the instructor got on her hands and knees for the modified cat pose, which meant sticking one foot out and balancing yourself.

And there it was before me. From heel to toes was his right foot in all its “stenchly” glory. I gasped, then something went down the wrong pipe and I began to cough one of those uncontrollable whooping coughs that happens just when everyone is quiet and concentrating. He turned around, I thought with apparent concern, but the look on his face said something else. I had disturbed him. I had distracted his search for balance and harmony. Maybe you need to take that outside stinky MILK said (yes, I had just downgraded him from cutie to Man I’d Like to Kick). Outside did he say? The nerve. Well I had no choice. I packed up my stuff, slipped on my flip flops and prepared my exit, but not before I gave a slight kick to his sneakers and said, “Odor eaters.”

Namaste,

Lafemmeroar

© 2011 Lafemmeroar

%d bloggers like this: