Every time I try to make this blog a bigger part of my life I find myself either too busy or too apathetic to give a shit about connecting with the world. (Read: my loyal 5 followers.) So in the spirit of give-backed-ness I bring you my hung over, raspy thoughts on things as I see them.
With a few exceptions, fashion blogs bug the shit out of me. They are too cool and too filled with ram rod skinny bored looking adolescents. The only thing they inspire me to do is exactly the opposite of what they are doing. Fashion is all about irony these days. The kids don't want to be caught giving a shit, smiling, or befriending someone without a mustache. I am just ready for it to evolve into something a little more jovial and welcoming. How can you moisten panties when your acting like a pair?
Dead horse beating time. The monotonous dubstep scene in Portland is killing me. Blue fucking balls. It took Barisone turning up the old school heat in my bar on the hick ass coast to bring me a dancing climax. You can't spit without hitting a dj and yet they all sound the same. I know that some of you will disagree but I don't give a shitty rat fuck. I am loosing my wet at exactly 72 bpm and that is a about as gay as a bag of dicks. If I wanted to dry hump I would call up my 8th grade boyfriend. I know that there are sub-sub- genre's of dubstep that have been know to get me moving but it's about as rare as a straight congressman. Not that there is anything you can do about it. This is a plea to all of those music selectors out there. Take a minute and look at the dance floor when you are dropping that dubby track. Is there any hot chicks out there? Is there anybody dancing that isn't in a k hole? Prolly not. Just toss in a banger or two for ole MPP over here in Wetsville. Gracias.
I have some photos coming for you soon. Thanks for your patience. More news to come on stuff and things.....stay tuned!
30.4.10
26.1.10
Because you never know...
...when someone is going to run a red light and shit all over your day. Not nearly as cool as THIS!:
24.1.10
Dare I say it? It is too fucking moist in Portland!!!!
This Sunday morn I awoke to yet another grey morning, yet another constant and merciless deluge of water coming from gods ass a.k.a the sky, and yet another mad rush to get my dog out side before his dry heaving turned into barfing. After a wet and uneventful childhood at the Oregon coast one would believe that I was seasoned in the arts of puddle jumping and mud boggin. And I am. But in the city it is more like puddle dodging and mud covered shoes. I could go other places, like Bend, where the powder is fine and the men are finer, or perhaps I could hop a plane and enjoy the dirrrty night life of Reno, drop it to the musical stylings of Coop or Vibesquad until the sun comes up, all the while enjoying the paganistic lifestyle to which I have become quite accustomed, thank you. But no. I am on a self imposed exile here in the wettest, most emo city in the fucking country, no, the world, and as my panties mold, I venture to ask, How moist is too moist? How much more wet can a pair of good old fashioned boy cut powder blue panties hold?
Google Moist. Apparently the poop is not only moist but it is also gay. Nuck nuck.
I digress. Where was I? Wet, bored, blah blah blah. What shall I do with my day, a one so like the last seventy? A day so filled to the brim with rain, that in the literal sense of the word my glass is most certainly more then half full? A day that stretches on and on and on into the kind of infinity that makes you want to stick your head in the oven ala Sylvia Plath? Well. I am going to make a list. That's what I do. I have useless little sheets of paper with lists from here to Bangladesh, no use stoppin now.
The Moist Panty List Of Things to Do When It's Raining (again) Like a Sonofabitch:
1. Spend a paranoid ten minutes staring out of the front window wondering which chicken ass clucker inhabiting this mud laden cul-de-nutsack is planning to rob you. Come to the conclusion that it will be the guy across the street with that stupid "Keep Portland Weird" sticker on his car. Cuz you know a person that thinks like that probably can't keep a job. Plus he kind of reminds me of Norman Bates. Call me crazy but I swear sometimes I can see his "mom" sitting in the window wearing a shawl, waiting for me to jump in the shower.
2. Brew the strongest french press ever and tweak out while you start fifty little projects, none of which will be finished before you crash. Caffeine is still legal people. But who knows for how long, so enjoy it before George Bush has it banned.
3. Post up to Facebook for like seven hours. It helps to have a colostomy bag attached prior to FB session, so as to not subject yourself to the five minutes of update-lessness. Keep snacks on the ready and remember to stay hydrated. Mountain Dew is my favorite. At some point you will need to drag yourself from the square headed boyfriend. It may help if you think of it as an opportunity to collect new clever one liners for which to update your status.
4. We all would love to consider our selves as "outdoorsy". But you are a god damn stinkin lying bearskin rug if you try to tell me that you go outside in this shit. Don't front. So, blow up that exercise ball you bought back when and bang out some awkward sets of reps of something. In the off chance that you ever get around to using that Meadows pass you best be in some kind of shape other than fat. (See previous genius blog for help in this area) If you don't have a ball or some other gym like implement then you might have to venture out to the gym. Though it does require a mammoth bit of effort, it could be worth it, if and only if, you actually make it all the way there. Don't stop at Taco Bell. The Chalupa's will only make you fatter. Trust me, I know.
5. Log on to Hulu and watch the crap out of it. Conan's last week was a banner period in television history. Catch up on your Grey's Anatomy spin off, the Private Practice, for some good frothy dramedy. Greek is a good one to watch if you can't let go of those college fantasies. Who amongst us watched "Revenge of The Nerds" at a young age and believed that college life would be just like that? Me. I did.
6. Organize. Pretend that it will help you be less of a spazz and more of a grown up with prospects. Put away your toys. No babe will ever come over twice if you have the definitive collection of unicorn heads nestled amongst your pillows. (Unless your Johanna, in which case you could have My Little Pony sheets and guys would still be banging down the door.)
7. Eat. Eat. Eat.
8. Drink. Drink. Drink.
9. Now take a nap. You need more beauty sleep apparently and why deny how exhausted you are from that time on the exercise ball?
10. Lastly, create an elaborate and interesting life that exists only in your head so that you can blog about it. No one will question you, they will be too busy getting "outside" and doing things.
And to you dry ones in other parts of our vast country, I hate you.
Google Moist. Apparently the poop is not only moist but it is also gay. Nuck nuck.
I digress. Where was I? Wet, bored, blah blah blah. What shall I do with my day, a one so like the last seventy? A day so filled to the brim with rain, that in the literal sense of the word my glass is most certainly more then half full? A day that stretches on and on and on into the kind of infinity that makes you want to stick your head in the oven ala Sylvia Plath? Well. I am going to make a list. That's what I do. I have useless little sheets of paper with lists from here to Bangladesh, no use stoppin now.
The Moist Panty List Of Things to Do When It's Raining (again) Like a Sonofabitch:
1. Spend a paranoid ten minutes staring out of the front window wondering which chicken ass clucker inhabiting this mud laden cul-de-nutsack is planning to rob you. Come to the conclusion that it will be the guy across the street with that stupid "Keep Portland Weird" sticker on his car. Cuz you know a person that thinks like that probably can't keep a job. Plus he kind of reminds me of Norman Bates. Call me crazy but I swear sometimes I can see his "mom" sitting in the window wearing a shawl, waiting for me to jump in the shower.
2. Brew the strongest french press ever and tweak out while you start fifty little projects, none of which will be finished before you crash. Caffeine is still legal people. But who knows for how long, so enjoy it before George Bush has it banned.
3. Post up to Facebook for like seven hours. It helps to have a colostomy bag attached prior to FB session, so as to not subject yourself to the five minutes of update-lessness. Keep snacks on the ready and remember to stay hydrated. Mountain Dew is my favorite. At some point you will need to drag yourself from the square headed boyfriend. It may help if you think of it as an opportunity to collect new clever one liners for which to update your status.
4. We all would love to consider our selves as "outdoorsy". But you are a god damn stinkin lying bearskin rug if you try to tell me that you go outside in this shit. Don't front. So, blow up that exercise ball you bought back when and bang out some awkward sets of reps of something. In the off chance that you ever get around to using that Meadows pass you best be in some kind of shape other than fat. (See previous genius blog for help in this area) If you don't have a ball or some other gym like implement then you might have to venture out to the gym. Though it does require a mammoth bit of effort, it could be worth it, if and only if, you actually make it all the way there. Don't stop at Taco Bell. The Chalupa's will only make you fatter. Trust me, I know.
5. Log on to Hulu and watch the crap out of it. Conan's last week was a banner period in television history. Catch up on your Grey's Anatomy spin off, the Private Practice, for some good frothy dramedy. Greek is a good one to watch if you can't let go of those college fantasies. Who amongst us watched "Revenge of The Nerds" at a young age and believed that college life would be just like that? Me. I did.
6. Organize. Pretend that it will help you be less of a spazz and more of a grown up with prospects. Put away your toys. No babe will ever come over twice if you have the definitive collection of unicorn heads nestled amongst your pillows. (Unless your Johanna, in which case you could have My Little Pony sheets and guys would still be banging down the door.)
7. Eat. Eat. Eat.
8. Drink. Drink. Drink.
9. Now take a nap. You need more beauty sleep apparently and why deny how exhausted you are from that time on the exercise ball?
10. Lastly, create an elaborate and interesting life that exists only in your head so that you can blog about it. No one will question you, they will be too busy getting "outside" and doing things.
And to you dry ones in other parts of our vast country, I hate you.
22.1.10
Moist Panty Guide to Weight Loss
In the spirit of NYE resolutions or what I like to refer to as Disappointment and Self Loathing Laying in Hungry Wait for My Soul, I have cooked up a few methods that will guarantee a slimmer you. Now, as a preamble I suggest that you enter into this weight loss thing with the same gusto that you use when charging through the golden doors of your local Denny's and give this diet thing all that you got. Cuz if you don't, well, then you will always be a fat ass and panties will not, I repeat, WILL NOT moisten for you or because of you.
Method One: Fish. Now bear with me here. We have all heard a gazillion times of the healthy things fish meat can do for us. And personally as a Pisces (the fish sign stupid), I wholly encourage the eating of fish, especially the kind you find on that slow tour of tuna town. But if you want to loose that jelly roll the eating of those fruits of the sea is a sure fire way to get there, but only if you stick to the MP diet. Here's what you do. First purchase some fish, any kind will do, though I find Salmon works the best. Second, leave fish on kitchen counter for one to two days. During this stage is may help to go camping or visit some pals one town over. Third and lastly, consume that pink mess, raw for you asians, cooked in tartar for us white folk, or breaded and fried for my african friends. By next week you will be ten to twenty pounds lighter. As a bonus you will find yourself with that pale, sucked in cheek look that is so chic right now. You can thank me later.
Method Two: This one is my fav! It involves gratuitous drug use, involved touring of your city, new friends, intrigue, and bicycles! For some of you this may be be the easiest form of muffin top execution on the market. First step, find your local weed dealer and using your most subtle finesse, force him to hook you up with "the dude". Yep. "The dude" is that guy that everyone but you knows about. He is the one that slangs those drugs no one admits to using. But desperate times call for desperate measures. Get yourself some mudda fuckin crack. Do it. Buy in bulk, you'll thank me later. Now the obvious payoff here is an extinguished appetite. But if that is all you are looking for then call Jenny cause I am talking about total radical size dropping weight loss here. I won't even say that there is a definitive second step because at this point your off and running naturally. Just hang out in your living room burning circles into your carpet and watch those pounds fly off. Now, when that bag runs out hop on your BMX and cruise those mean streets looking for "the dude" whose has now become your mother, father, and best buddy. These rides will burn off what is left of your ass and will begin eating into your third chin, YAHOO! We are almost there. You will find yourself surrounded by new and interesting people. They have unique and colorful nicknames like Snot or Turd and they will give you your last push to waifishness. At this point in the game your should never leave the house without your tenny's because Turd has plans to rob you and when he does......run run run! The Nigerian track team will be knocking at your door any day now to recruit your fast ass. Wah-bam, look whose rockin those ill jean cut offs with panache? YOU!
Method Three: Go to college. I know, I know, not as easy as the other two. But many of you, my dear obese readers, have admired my sculpted sixer and my lean thighs. And this, friends, is how I did it. It is crucial that you have little to nil savings upon the entering of collegiate life. Your daily budget must be less then Ten dollars and your rich ole daddy must be so mad at you for dating Juan the landscaper that you are cut off from the family loot. If you can try to attend a school in L.A of San Fran, this will help in confirming your complete poverty. At some point, usually about week two of term one, you will find yourself bargaining with yourself about latte's versus pot pies. Eventually it will be rice versus air. The man in the Bart station holding a cup and selling that god damn Street Spirit news paper will begin to look like an entrepreneur with a golden future. It will hurt, but trust, this is the most effective way to lose it and keep it lost. How will that weight stay gone once you are gainfully employed by the job of your college dreams? Remember how cheap our grandparents were due to the trials of living through the depression? The scars of being a starving student and sweating a bag of ramen like a mofo smokin sherm craves a good tree to climb, will keep you frugal and prepared. These wounds, though closed by years of a regular pay check, will ache every time you think of buying any thing that isn't two for the price of one. Lean times keep the body leaner. Duh.
Aight then. Good luck! And remember, a good heart will not get you laid.
Peace!
Method One: Fish. Now bear with me here. We have all heard a gazillion times of the healthy things fish meat can do for us. And personally as a Pisces (the fish sign stupid), I wholly encourage the eating of fish, especially the kind you find on that slow tour of tuna town. But if you want to loose that jelly roll the eating of those fruits of the sea is a sure fire way to get there, but only if you stick to the MP diet. Here's what you do. First purchase some fish, any kind will do, though I find Salmon works the best. Second, leave fish on kitchen counter for one to two days. During this stage is may help to go camping or visit some pals one town over. Third and lastly, consume that pink mess, raw for you asians, cooked in tartar for us white folk, or breaded and fried for my african friends. By next week you will be ten to twenty pounds lighter. As a bonus you will find yourself with that pale, sucked in cheek look that is so chic right now. You can thank me later.
Method Two: This one is my fav! It involves gratuitous drug use, involved touring of your city, new friends, intrigue, and bicycles! For some of you this may be be the easiest form of muffin top execution on the market. First step, find your local weed dealer and using your most subtle finesse, force him to hook you up with "the dude". Yep. "The dude" is that guy that everyone but you knows about. He is the one that slangs those drugs no one admits to using. But desperate times call for desperate measures. Get yourself some mudda fuckin crack. Do it. Buy in bulk, you'll thank me later. Now the obvious payoff here is an extinguished appetite. But if that is all you are looking for then call Jenny cause I am talking about total radical size dropping weight loss here. I won't even say that there is a definitive second step because at this point your off and running naturally. Just hang out in your living room burning circles into your carpet and watch those pounds fly off. Now, when that bag runs out hop on your BMX and cruise those mean streets looking for "the dude" whose has now become your mother, father, and best buddy. These rides will burn off what is left of your ass and will begin eating into your third chin, YAHOO! We are almost there. You will find yourself surrounded by new and interesting people. They have unique and colorful nicknames like Snot or Turd and they will give you your last push to waifishness. At this point in the game your should never leave the house without your tenny's because Turd has plans to rob you and when he does......run run run! The Nigerian track team will be knocking at your door any day now to recruit your fast ass. Wah-bam, look whose rockin those ill jean cut offs with panache? YOU!
Method Three: Go to college. I know, I know, not as easy as the other two. But many of you, my dear obese readers, have admired my sculpted sixer and my lean thighs. And this, friends, is how I did it. It is crucial that you have little to nil savings upon the entering of collegiate life. Your daily budget must be less then Ten dollars and your rich ole daddy must be so mad at you for dating Juan the landscaper that you are cut off from the family loot. If you can try to attend a school in L.A of San Fran, this will help in confirming your complete poverty. At some point, usually about week two of term one, you will find yourself bargaining with yourself about latte's versus pot pies. Eventually it will be rice versus air. The man in the Bart station holding a cup and selling that god damn Street Spirit news paper will begin to look like an entrepreneur with a golden future. It will hurt, but trust, this is the most effective way to lose it and keep it lost. How will that weight stay gone once you are gainfully employed by the job of your college dreams? Remember how cheap our grandparents were due to the trials of living through the depression? The scars of being a starving student and sweating a bag of ramen like a mofo smokin sherm craves a good tree to climb, will keep you frugal and prepared. These wounds, though closed by years of a regular pay check, will ache every time you think of buying any thing that isn't two for the price of one. Lean times keep the body leaner. Duh.
Aight then. Good luck! And remember, a good heart will not get you laid.
Peace!
11.1.10
Ran across this lil' advertisement whilst meandering through the hilarity that is the casual encounters section of Craigslist. Oh ladies, take a number, because I know you're all gonna jump at the chance to fuck this Uber-Douche hot steamy style. While I try to only fuck men with self-respect and good looks, I think I might make an exception for steroid-boy here, only because he has got to have the biggest balls this side of the Mississippi, posting not only his photos for me to belittle, but also a nice analogy of his entire thought-process in the following neanderthal-esque 21st century cyber mating call:
"I am 26, just moved here and am looking to get my cock wet. I'm good with anyone 20-40 though considering this is strictly for hot steamy fucking, I would love a woman who takes good care of her body with a huge sexual appetite. send me a pic if interested in a night or more with me."
Well, since you put it that way, please, oh puh-leeeze can I fuck you? I'll go the gym, I'll be hot and steamy, I'll- wait, no, I won't do any of those things because YOU ARE A FUCKING RETARD! You look like Sloth from the Goonies threw up on your shoulders to make your face, then punched it, causing irreversible damage. As a matter of fact, I would rather have sex with my own vomit than you. Do you hear me? Vomit has more sex appeal than you. So start saving, because that prostitute your going to have to pay won't come cheap.
21.7.09
Been long time
Woo hoo what a summer! First off let me explain the absence of all things moist on the world wide interweb. Upon my move to the Oregon Coast, land of dry under things and uncomfortably damp weather systems, I succombed to what I will now forever know as my own personal season in purgatory. Three jobs mon, dental work excecuted by a man I refer to as the Butcher of Tillamook County, and No I repeat No ass of any kind. The only blink of light in my world has been the mini fest circuit that I have been on and the loves that I join up with upon arrival. The whole Moist Pussy oops Posse group cuming correctly every fucking time! So here is my review of the good parts of my otherwise shit hole summer (so far).
The Weekend of Annie:
To sacred to discuss. Our last little adventure together, a drive from Oaklandofmilkandhoney to Bend. The birth of Yoda Leg, the official induction of Butthurts into Butterbeanery, a soft landing for me and my new life.
The Oneday Trip to The Bay:
Catching Lokeai Aka Ian the hot yellow man at some shit dive in Berkely where I experience my first moment of being more femme than Annie. What a relief! Googly eye's on that shit! Interviewed for the Levi's award, haggared as fuck and went off on strange tangents to lead designer whom I imagine instantly wrote me off as winner of said award, and got just enough of a dose of the bay to get me through to......
The Caldera Retreat:
Hosted by Mommy and Daddy of the Grove, Inc machine. Mellow, beautiful, perfect. The food was well conceived and executed with love and the venue was lovely and healing. I needed this event like a fat kid needs the tread mill. I did at one point walk into an ohming session with six beers, one hanging out of every pocket and donkey slippers on, PBR in mid crack before I realized that I looked like a lost frat boy. Classic Josi.
The Big Bounce:
The glorious babes of Reno's Dirty Dirty Champagne and Bacon Productions pulled together the sweetest little soiree in the backwoods of California. A little mining town with a few shanty dorms and some green ass trees was the back drop for a three day fun fest. A few noteworthy boy/dj moist panty makers in attendance: Sage C-A, Jeff 'El Jefe the Drrty" Stein, Cut La What aka Mister Spank Bank, Coop Zee Loop, Micheal F. Thunder, Bryan 'El Papa Chango played my track' BarisonA, Ace Hester, Dr. George, That dude from Fort Knox Five who made me wet my shorts, Coach and the Surly haters ball. If I left anyone out, fuck you. Every minute with my lovely ladies was life changing and at one point I saw god. Annie was hooping, Sage was smiling, Naomi was swinging her fur coat around like a hunting trophe, and me, well I was flying above the whole show. It was a miracle, all of it. Good times had by all.
One Day at Emergnsee:
Got good old fashion drunk before noon, followed Kimmy around like a puppy, ate Grove food like it was my job, saw more dick than you can shake a stick at (pun intended ummkay), listened to Yoyo get her foreigner on, home by two on monday. Job well done.
Dj's I didn't really like before but do now, Daedulus, Flying Lotus, and those renegade guys by our camp.
Now what?
13.5.09
Lil lil little one
So your girl, miss MPP herself, is out and a boot doin her thing. Aka, getting awesome, setting standards, lowering bars, pumping Lil weez, reppin the white hood like it was her JOBBBBBB! First thing I run into some random friend of my dads who was hot in the day. And by day I mean back when Jodeci was forever my lady. So being the generous butter bizzzle that I am I flatter this old fuckwit with some kindess and sho nuff his call the cops Imma a gonna takeyo kids chick decides to see your girl as a threat. Now, at my best I am a bee bee gun. It is ten kinds of fun watching these kinds of people getting all Lucy and Desi on this bitch. At some point in the night, and here night is 8:30pm, so your MPP is still straight like Brad Pitt, this woman says to her man in what passes as whisper voice,"Fuck you, go talk to your hot little friend, and just so you know, she has.......a mullet." Yup. Currency is short on top long on back here in Manzanita.
What else?
For fucks sake, lord jesus, send me some Smoke's, Swivnuts, Thunders, Cuts, and the well formed fighting lazers of this urff before I throw myself into the sea!
This town is strange at best and stupid at worst but I can say one thing. Every one this town can run a chain saw and for now I spose that will do. But don't get your sad little hopes up. Only one Mustang can handle this pony and you know who you are.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
