Well holy shit….

Where to begin..oh I know, let’s start this shit off with a little something that’s sure to bring more beloved hate mail.

If you have never read my posts (you should) then you don’t know that I have recently made to transition from Virginia to Washington state. I have been off the grid for a while and now I’m back…bum bum buumm.

And I just want to say to all you sexy West Coast gay men who are not the women hating, emo-fuck, I’m gay cause society thinks it’s awesome and I would do anything not to be accepted by doing everything that is acceptable, I <3 every kind of fucking art t-shirt wearing, it’s your fault for making gay babies so I don’t have to take the responsibility for breaking my bitch moms heart…..THANK YOU. You make me happy. For you previously described turds, fuck off. You’re as fake as your sob stories and Elton John is ashamed of you. Ok, maybe he isn’t yet…but one day….

I’m pretty sure this anger is coming from my lack of coffee. I have to admit, and I’m not proud, that I am a recovering coffee addict. I have been sober for one week. I want to cut someone. Someone like the many coffee peddlers you find here. They sit in their little coffee shacks bragging of 100 different flavored shots to dress your coffee up while colorful cardboard cut-out coffee beans are screaming “Coffee Mother Fucker!!” Truth be told I didn’t want to quit but I couldn’t handle the pressure coming from those crack coffee bitches! Always coming at me with “Do you want an extra shot?….C’omon baby….it’ll be fun” and “Do you want beans or a straw? On the house.” Yo, everyone knows that you do not, ever, borrow from the house. Then you owe the house a favor and Mr.Coffepimp always collects. Always. So I did something despicable and turned rat. Called my mom up and spilled the beans. (Oh and that pun was totally intended).

Not having the java has made me turn to an even darker side…nicotine. Lovely comforting nicotine. My favorite thing to do for years…until Washington state made it damn near impossible. It’s almost ten dollars a pack here! What the junk WA?! How the fuck am I going to give my self a slow awesome after-sex-smoke death if it has that kind of price tag? It’s not like I can cut down on sex damnit. That’s why I got married in the first fucking place. (and because I love my husband for his brains and some other shit)

I assume once my jitters are gone I might actually enjoy this state. It is gorgeous and Seattle has some perks but it’s been a weird couple months.

P.s. This is an extremely disorganized post…my apologizes! (well,not to you fake gays) xoxoxo

Princess….

  Here you have it folks.

Please, if this has left you breathless place your head to your knees and take deep breaths.

If this has left you frightened, well, imagine how my kids feel.

P.s. and yes, I do look this happy all the time. Just ask my husband.

 

West, fake breast and bestiality…

So there comes a time in every military spouses life when “the man” decides you may fill a much-needed space further away then the space you currently fill. In my case the current cavity I fill is in good ole’ Virginia Beach or Vagina Beach if you want to be a douche about it.

I can honestly say that I hate it here and have hated it for the past 11 years. So when the “opportunity” to relocate was “offered” I was actually pretty excited. Our “choices” where the following.

1.New Jersey

2.Florida

3.Washington

Being that I would rather someone glue all my hangnails to a ledge and be pushed off before I go anywhere near N.J that option was out. Also, before I get any “N.J isn’t really like what is portrayed in Jersey shore” dribble, fuck off and write MTV. I’ve been there. I lost a cell phone and 20 points off my I.Q. just driving across state lines.

Florida. Or Flo-Rida as I like to call it. Wait…what?! That name is already taken by a huge black man who isn’t in Florida?! Damn it all. I guess when I’m old as dirt (and I’m pretty close) I might want to go drown in the miserable swamp land till my wrinkly saggy skin gets as leathery as its amphibian co-inhabitants. But not yet.

Ahhhhh Washington. 3,000 miles away from tourist trap hell. But, what do I know of  west coasties? Well for starters….

A: Bestiality is perfectly legal. No, I will not get the fuck out. Here I am  thinking sheep humping and horse fisting  was a back country red-neck thing. Nope. It’s a Washington thing.

Color me surprised when I ran across that gem. At least they have conditions set in place. Such as not being able to bone an animal over 30lbs.

30 fucking pounds is the cut off limit.<——–See what I did there:)  It’s a safety issue for the person doing said fucking. I guess if you’re going to rape your pet it’s good to have some guidelines and limitations. Sigh.

I know that this doesn’t mean everyone in Washington is a doggy-doer so spare me that letter as well.

B: Some of the best music has come from the west coast. Like that one guy who said “real women have scripts and fake breast”. Ok, maybe he isn’t from the west coast but he knows the women there…

C: It rains. A lot. I blame this on all the dirty hippies who refuse to wash their feet.

But seriously, partly, I can’t wait to meet new friends and be in an entire different area. If you are a westie, give me an inside scoop if you please (but not if you sex up your furry friends, that shit’s nasty).

A little dity…

A liberal muslim homosexual ACLU lawyer professor and abortion doctor was teaching a class on Karl Marx, known atheist.

”Before the class begins, you must get on your knees and worship Marx and accept that he was the most highly-evolved being the world has ever known, even greater than Jesus Christ!”

At this moment, a brave, patriotic, pro-life Navy SEAL champion who had served 1500 tours of duty and understood the necessity of war and fully supported all military decision made by the United States stood up and held up a rock.
”How old is this rock, pinhead?”

The arrogant professor smirked quite Jewishly and smugly replied “4.6 billion years, you stupid Christian.”

”Wrong. It’s been 5,000 years since God created it. If it was 4.6 billion years old and evolution, as you say, is real… then it should be an animal now”

The professor was visibly shaken, and dropped his chalk and copy of Origin of the Species. He stormed out of the room crying those liberal crocodile tears. The same tears liberals cry for the “poor” (who today live in such luxury that most own refrigerators) when they jealously try to claw justly earned wealth from the deserving job creators. There is no doubt that at this point our professor, DeShawn Washington, wished he had pulled himself up by his bootstraps and become more than a sophist liberal professor. He wished so much that he had a gun to shoot himself from embarrassment, but he himself had petitioned against them!

The students applauded and all registered Republican that day and accepted Jesus as their lord and savior. An eagle named “Small Government” flew into the room and perched atop the American Flag and shed a tear on the chalkboard. The pledge of allegiance was read several times, and God himself showed up and enacted a flat tax rate across the country.

The professor lost his tenure and was fired the next day. He died of the gay plague AIDS and was tossed into the lake of fire for all eternity.

Semper Fi.
p.s. close the borders

 

(You may have noticed no ‘foul’ language was used in this. This was so I wouldn’t be offensive….

Happy hunting bitches!

Screen shot…

Addendum to Holy fornicating search terms Batman!

This is the best I can do…first shoot was taken out of previous post….sorry for the blur.

Holy fornicating search terms Batman!

My mind was blown this morning.  Get a load of these search terms that have directed people my way.

In fear of anyone thinking I was making this up, I took a screen shot. For your viewing pleasure….. You’re welcome.

Since these have been noticed this morning I decided that they should be recognized.

dick scum: Dear Sir/Madame,

I am very sorry to hear about your scum down under problem. I am not a medical professional or any other type of  professional but I will do what I can to help since you were so rudely directed to my page.

A: Make sure you read all of my post. Laughter is the best medicine. It’s been clinically proven people who laugh daily live  longer than people with aids, and I am funny as blazes.

B: Wash yo’ dick son! (with soap and hot water. not just with someone who uses mouthwash)

C: If you are a brand new transgender and aren’t sure how to maintain your newly procured phallus, see B.

D: If you manage to get rid of the scum make sure you only dip it into a clean orifice…not a scummy one. Dirty hoes is a no.

fuck you princess: Dear Thhpbpbpbpb,

Fuck me, no fuck you. I have a pseudo tittle, what do you have? Dick scum.

asshole with football in it: Dear Lost and Found

Sounds like you have lost your ball. May I suggest you look into your neighbors yard first. Or maybe upon your roof. If your football is still not found and resorting to looking for it in someones rectum is your only option you should seriously think about trading your Center.

fuck my mouth:  Dear Trolling for a date

Check Craig’s List.

arm pit kiss: Dear Ewwwwww

What the hell? If you are ever redirected to me again feel free to leave a message explaining yourself.

assinatura george washington:  Dear Portugal

Love, Princess Von Voodoo

Princess Von Voodoo vs. Sharks

There are two things in this world that scare the shit out of me. Clowns and Sharks. Someone asked me, after I wrote why my fear of clowns was completely rational, why I was scared of sharks.

Well you asked for it.

It all started when I was 11 years old. My family was at the beach one day, and my friend Jackie and I were out swimming in the deep blue. There were two older and rather hunky guys not to far away from us, so we proceeded to do all the stupid little girl crap that girls do. I was trying to flip my hair out of the water like Little Hasselhoff Mer-dork and Jackie was talking way too loud with emphatic hand gestures any Guido would be proud of.

The guys turned our way and after a moment they said “Hey girls” and we were like “Heeeeeeeyyyyy” *gigglesnort*. Then “Ya’ll should watch out for that fish.” Ohmahgah boys are sooooo stupid, we are in the fucking ocean, of course you watch out for fish. I reply “Um, okay thanks” and proceed to wonder how many awesome hair flips I wasted on two obvious mentally deficient people.

And then it hits me…..

No really, I got hit. In the back. By a huge and very dead mother fucking tuna. A tuna. Tuna. Tuna. Tuna.

This tuna wasn’t even kinda dead. It was so damn dead. How do I know? It’s middle was missing. Just gone. No guts, no ribs…nothing from gills to tail except spine and milky dead fishy eyes. It’s mouth was open in a terrified death scream and so was mine. I hauled my skinny wet ass out of that water so fast Jezzus got jealous.

So why aren’t I scared of tuna? Well because it didn’t eat its self did it? Nope, a shark did. It ate the middle of  a tuna. FYI, tuna in my ocean  can get to be 9ft long and weigh  800-1000lbs. I could have crawled inside it as if it were a lightsaber carved  Tauntaun.

Why do sharks eat tuna? Because they can. They can eat anything they damn well please, like tasty fat lawyers, but they don’t, due to professional courtesy.

This day stayed with me my whole life. I had nightmares for weeks where a mommy tuna would beg me to help take care of her baby tunas.

I was in a pool once and when a beach ball brushed my back I damn neared past out and wouldn’t go back in all summer.

I won’t go near the shark tank at the local aquarium and I sure in the hell do not watch shark week ( I know that should have been capitalized but I don’t think the slimy bastards deserve it).

I had a friend once who went swimming on her period. She might as well have walked into a frat boys house full of horny drunken ass hats wearing cheese pizza cologne. After I reevaluated our friend ship, I let her know she was welcome to go to her grave alone. I mean come the fuck on. Blood is like Chanel #5 to sharks. True story.

A while back my brother told me about this movie that honored an amazing young surfer who was “involved” in a shark attack and even after having her arm bit off had the “courage” to go back into the ocean to continue living her free buffet dream. First of all, you don’t become involved in a shark attack. They don’t call and make sure your ready for that type of commitment. Second lets not get courage confused with insanity.

A shark ate her arm. It ate her arm. A couple 1000lbs fish with rows of razor-sharp teeth and skin designed to help them be hydrodynamic (that means that even their fucking skin is made to help it kill you faster) chomped off a piece of her body. She goes surfing in the middle of an apex predators home, one takes a piece of her for fun, lets her go, the stupid bitch goes back and someone decides she needs a movie to praise her overcoming her odds?! Fuck you Hollywood. You dumb twats. I hope she paddled in circles all day before you had to shell out for a fucking stunt double in a stumpy suit.

Son of a bitch. I can’t even think straight right now……I know this has been all over the place, but really. They make me flustered.

What I’m trying to say is that I hate mutha fuckin sharks in my mutha fuckin ocean. And that if you happen to drop a limb into the gaping maw of a prehistoric people eater…so be it. It’s your own damn fault. You have been warned. People are tasty.

P.s I’ve missed you too Mike. This is for you.