the best shit ever

As a result of the recent Roast of James Franco, I decide to re-watch the cult classic Freaks and Geeks. Now if you have never seen this show, stop whatever you are doing and go watch every episode. Trust me on this one. It is too good to be true and I cannot for the life of me fathom why it only survived one season.

I would like to say I only watched one episode a night and it took me like a month to re-watch, but we all know that is a lie. I stayed up way past my bedtime for a solid week and watched this shit like it was my job. You should follow suit, it might change your life.

I could go on and on about how amazing this show is, but for the sake of all our sanity I will keep it to just a few hundred reasons why Freaks and Geeks is the Best Shit Ever.

-Because it proves without a doubt that Jason Segel is the most marriable man in America. Whether he is playing Nick Andopolis or Marshmallow, I think it is safe to say every woman with a TV set wants to bang him. His character in Freaks and Geeks is literally the epitome of what I looked for in a man whilst in high school. Tall, handsome, vaguely musically talented, and stoned. What more could a woman ask for, and guess what he grows up to be an adorable environmental lawyer named Marshall Erickson, so whoever said pot is the gateway drug clearly never met him.

-Because you get to experience what life was like for Linda Cardellini as a teenager in the 80s and as an adulteress in the 60s. A little confusing really, but what can you do. She is gorgeous in any decade. If only she had stayed with Nick she would probably not have been lead astray by that wild Don Draper.

-Because Sam, Bill, and Neal are literally the three sweetest boys on the earth. They will break your heart with their innocence and good intentions. The episode where they swap out real beer for fake beer at Sam's sister's party so none of her friends will get hurt is just too much. Naturally Bill winds up getting hammered while he protects the real keg. They are the type of kids you would want to have.

-Because Janice Ian loves disco.

-Because James Franco is friggen gorgeous. Even as a "punker".

-Because you don't completely hate Seth Rogen in the show. If you have watched many of his movies or listened to any of his interviews, it is pretty easy to despise Seth Rogen. But in the role of Ken he is almost likable. Especially in the episode where he is crushing on a tuba player. It is actually pretty sweet.

-Because Rashida Jones is a bitch. We all know Anne Perkins is mean to no one, so this role really showcased her acting talents.

-Becasue Shia Labeouf played a crazy ass mascot.

-Because Ben Stiller is a secret service man. Model, nurse, dodge ball player, museum security guard...I mean is there anything this man can't do?

-Because of this conversation:

Neil: So I wake up and guess what is on my bed

Bill: A turd?

Neil: yeah Bill, a turd

Bill: Gross

-Because Bernard the elf makes out with Sam. Talk about a Christmas miracle.

-Because the show is set in Michigan. There is no better place to grow up. 

-Because you are genuinely sad when the season is over. You know a show is good when you are legitimately emotional over the fact that you can't watch it anymore. Well played Judd Apatow. Well played. 

just don't do it...

You know that old saying that you should not eat for thirty minutes before you swim?? Well I for one have no idea whether or not that is true. To be honest I don't really like to go without eating for more than thirty minutes ever, so I may not be the best person to ask.

I do know however, that there are several other occasions when you should just not eat. Like at all.

Exhibit A. I made the unwise decision to eat a burrito approximate 12 minutes prior to yoga class this week. Not a good call. Probably one of my worst decisions, and that coming from someone who once swan dove off a balcony of a frat house. My tum was a mess the entire class. I felt like a walrus the entire class, and I am pretty thrilled that I didn't toss my cookies on anyone's mat.

Number 2. You should never in a million years eat before you shop for a swim suit. I chose to eat buffalo chicken strips directly before swimwear shopping earlier the season, and lets just say it was only slightly less horrifying than doing the tricep press with a belly full of burrito. You want to go a minimum of 5 hours of eating when you shop for a bathing suit. It is the only way.

Next. Even more important, never eat before jean shopping. I don't know why it is so difficult to find a pair of pants that make your ass look sensational, but it sure is. I recommend at least two days between your last meal and jean shopping for the best results. Sadly for me, shopping and eating seem to go hand in hand, so I have yet to master this one, but maybe some day.

Numero quatro. Skip eating before you do any drinking. I proved this point over the weekend. If you want a real wild time, just forgo food for the day and then get all liquored up in the evening. Works like a charm I tell ya.

Lastly. Do not eat before you zumba. I had a whole bunch of bacon before shaking what my mama gave me a few weeks ago, and it was not delightful. In fact I burped up bacon on multiple ocasions. I mean bacon is a great thing to burp up, but much like the yoga burrito debacle, a granola bar might have been a better option.

Charming the pants off everyone in Charm City

Happy Monday little ones. Hope you all had a great weekend. I think I did.

I am going to do my best to recap the weekends festivities, but to be honest it's all a little blurry so this post will be as much a surprise to me as it is to you.

Friday night I went to Target after work as I like to do at least three times  a week. You just never know what you may find there. I bought myself a pair of purple pants for a steal of $12.99. Are you outta your mind?

Target was followed by zumba, a short run and then dinner. Over dinner manfriend and I decided we should spend Saturday night in Baltimore so we booked a hotel and spent the rest of the evening watching TV and thinking thoughts of Charm City.

Saturday I woke up early, cleaned the house, and went to spin class for the first time. I survived but barely. That shit is hard man. After getting dressed in my purple pants we set out on the two hour road trip to Baltimore.

It's one of my favorite cities so I was a pretty happy camper the whole ride. We first headed to Federal Hill which is a very cute neighborhood. We went there because they have a pet store I like and I wanted a new decorative poop bag holder for Fred's leash. I got the holder, then we took Fred on a nice long walk.

Next, we checked into our hotel. They had free cookies in the lobby so I fed Fred about five of them, while people gave me strange looks.

After checking in we caught a cab and went to the Baltimore Museum of Art. The collection was way more impressive than I imagined, and I already can't wait to go back. Plus they had these giant pink statues you could sit on so I was thrilled.

Our cab ride to the museum was less than thrilling however. We walked out front of the hotel and the bellman escorted us to a big ass black Denali SUV. You know the type politicians ride around in. At first I was excited because the driver was wearing a suit and I felt all fancy and shit. Then we took off and discovered he had no clue where he was going. I told him the street address and he could not spell so entering it into his GPS was a bit of a process. He was also blaring I love Jesus music the whole time. I forgot to mention this was an un-metered cab. Naturally he royally ripped us off and I chewed him out. I am always keeping it classy you guys.

The whole weekend was right up Fred's alley. He loves to travel and thoroughly enjoys any chance to sleep on a king sized bed.

I tried to be a real girl since we were in the big city and all, so I decided my purple pants should be dressed up with some black boots and this sweet vintage purse I bought a while back. I was feelin fine and we made our way out to Fell's Point which is a real wild bar heavy area of the city.

At this point I had had a salad with a dab of low fat dressing and a coffee so I felt quite saucy after just one craft beer at manfriend's favorite beer bar. Naturally I had 3 or 4 more. We made best friends with our neighbors at the bar and they bought us fireball shots like good little gentleman.

I am not one to toot my own horn, but I am pretty certain both those men were in love with my purple pants. I'm a charming girl when I drink, it's not my fault. Manfriend was getting hungry so we parted ways with our new friends and went across the street to another bar. Here I had about 4 bites of salad and 5 or 6 mussels. I am not much of an eater when I am drinking. 

We met up with some old pals of manfriends and I had several more beers and a shot or two as we bar crawled. My memory gets a little blurry here, I know there was one bar I was not allowed into because I was "leaning" and that is about it. I am told i was a bit of a handful, but I find that hard to believe.

All I know is I woke up in the hotel having no recollection of getting home and feeling way better than I should have. I took Fred across the street to the dog park where I met a few nice Baltimorians and their pups. 

I came back and manfriend was up so we checked out and went to Whole Foods to get groceries for the week. In the middle of nowhere where I live we do not have trendy grocery stores. This is not ideal for someone with an affinity for overpriced hippie food such as myself, so anytime I find myself in a 20 mile radius of Trader Joes or Whole Foods I jump at the chance.

I was still pretty drunk when we got there, which many of my friends back home refer to as an "Erin Morning". I seem to wake up drunk quite a lot, which I much prefer to waking up hungover.

I managed to spend $91 on some green beans, a jar of salsa, and a few ravioli. Ok, so I got a few more veggies, but jeeze Louise I almost threw up in my mouth when the cashier told me the total. I guess it would have been organic puke though so it's all good.

We followed our expensive grocery trip with a delicious brunch at a cute little waterfront spot, we sat outside so Fred could come too. It made me want to move to a city real bad, because I really like bringing Fred everywhere I go. He likes it too.

When we got back home, my car started acting a fool, so manfriend and our buddy fixed it for me while I played referee to Fred and our buddy's dog.

Hope you all had a good weekend. 

the assholes you meet at the gym

So in an effort to get a little smaller, I have been spending a shit load of time at the gym. I usually go to a minimum of 5 classes a week and sometimes as many as seven, as a result I am meeting a whole lot of other gym rats.

Now let me clear one thing up real quick before anyone goes getting all mad and thinking I am making generalizations; I am only talking about the assholes you meet in classes at the gym. I have never and probably will never work out in the lion's den that is the actual gym. No thank you. I run outside (not on treadmills in stinky rooms) and I take classes. So this post is based on my experiences in the locker room and classroom exclusively.

-The woman who is totally unprepared for class. This woman is probably middle aged, often Asian, always crazy. I met one last week in zumba who arrived in khaki capris and clog tennis shoes. I hadn't seen those shoes since the 90s, and certainly never in a gym. The worst part is this woman is usually in better shape than you.

-The woman who doesn't own a sports bra. I met a large middle-aged black woman named Janine last week, who I am not sure had any bra on at all. I saw much more than I bargained for in that class let me tell ya.

-The slut. This girl finds it necessary to show off her goods by wearing only a pair of booty shorts and a sports bra. I typically wear a pant and have yet to over heat. I mean I get you are working out and all, but aren't you cold??

-The suck up. She is always in the front row and seems to be besties with all the teachers. She probably has a banging body so you hate her a little bit.

-The weird breather in yoga. This one is typically an older man who wears dangerously short shorts. His breathing is sexual and makes you incredibly uncomfortable.

-The buff old lady. This one bitch I take Pilates with is at least 65 and has the body of Jennifer Anniston. I don't get it, she makes me feel so out of shape it's not even funny. You should see her.

-The beauty. She works out all hour long and finishes the class with not so much as a hair out of place. She does not look like a red faced hippo like I do after finishing some cardio.

-The beast. She could kill you with her bare hands. She can bench like 88 times her body weight and has a barbed wire tattoo around her bicep. Do not take her spot in class.

-The nudist. She is old, she is saggy, and she loves to get naked. She walks around the locker room like she owns the place while her boobs flop in the breeze. It is almost as awkward as the heavy breather.

What type of gym rat are you?

Shrimp. It's what's for dinner.

One of the more delicious things I have put into my mouth recently is this mango and plantain shrimp dish I concocted as a result of having an abundance of habaneros in my fridge.

If you are a fan of spicy and sweet flavors like I am, I suggest you give this bad boy a try. Bonus: it is super easy to make.

*As you know, I am not much of a measure, so just use your judgement ;)

Mango Habanero Shrimp with Plantain Chips

You will need:

Fresh shrimp
Sweet bell pepper
Salt and Pepper
1 Habanero
1 Mango
Soy Sauce
Plantains
Coconut Oil

Directions:

-Clean and thaw your shrimp. I friggen hate cleaning shrimp so this job typically is reserved for the man friend. Lightly season the shrimp with salt and pepper and set aside.

-Slice your bell peppers into strips and add them to a pan of hot coconut oil. Chop habanero very fine and remove veins and seeds. Be careful because these suckers are hot and the oil will stay on your hands. I always remove my contacts before working with them and try to touch them as little as possible. Add the habanero to the pan of peppers. I like my shit real spicy so I use a lot, but it really depends on your taste. Cooked habanero in my opinion is much less spicy than raw, but a little will still go a long way.

-Once the peppers have cooked down, add your shrimp and saute for a few minutes. Be sure not to over cook your shrimp as they only take a few minutes. Add a splash of soy sauce to the pan when the shrimp are well cooked.

-Next, chop your mango into small chunks and add to a sauce pan. Be sure to stir regularly, use a spoon to smoosh the mangos as they are your sauce. Once the sauce is a nice think creamy texture add it to your shrimp and peppers and mix.

-While you are tending to the shrimp saute, slice plantains into small discs. Add them to a pan of hot coconut oil and season with a bit of salt and pepper. Cook for about 4 minutes and flip and repeat. They should be a nice golden brown.

This dish is really delicious and sort of makes you feel like you are in the tropics for a brief minute before the reality that you are just in your dining room sinks in.

I hope you like it. I also sincerely apologize for the suckiness of my photos. I will work on it.

 

For more great recipes visit the Blissfully Miller and Let's Get Bananas blogs.

you're drunk

I really have no idea why, but for some reason I have been receiving all kinds of magazines in the mail that I never subscribed to.

I haven't purchased a magazine since at least 2009, so I really can't figure out what is going on. I am sure I will get a big old bill here any day now, but for the meantime I have been trying to read the ones that suck the least.

US Weekly is the one I am getting the most of and it is too bad because it is really not one I can get into to. I wish they would send me Rolling Stone or Runner's World, or shit even Maxum would be better in my book. I am learning all about the celeb gossip which is something I tend to be behind on usually, so I guess it is a good thing. Lord knows it is important to know who was out eating ice cream in Hollywood with their kids and where Jessica Alba is vacationing.

One of the stories I read during the commercials of Breaking Bad last night was all about Lamar (Khloe Kardashian's husband if you are not with the program like me) being arrested for DUI.

I just don't get it. Why do rich ass celebrities drink and drive? Are they crazy? I spent some time thinking about it and have come up with several alternatives to drunk driving for the rich and the famous.

-A helicopter. If you have the bank roll for it, why not leave the club in true baller style??

-A rickshaw. I have never been a passenger in one of these bad lads, but I can only imagine it would be pretty damn fun if you were all liquored up.

-An elephant. Imagine how much ass you could get for showing up to the bar with a cutie pie elephant? Girls love animals, it could totally work for you.

-A camel. If the elephant supply is low in Hollywood, get a camel! It is almost as cool and you can get it to spit on anyone who pissed you off that night.

-Your mom. If you are a celeb, chances are you have purchased a mansion for you parents. I would bet my bottom dollar you mom would come pick your drunk ass up just because she loves you, but even more because you bought her a house.

-A limo. Being drunk in a limo is way fun. Just think about what a blast you had at prom. So rent one, you can afford it.

-One of your fans. Send out a tweet asking for a DD and I guaran-damn-tee one of your admirers will come scoop you up and want nothing more in return than an autograph.

-A friend. Don't you have any sober friends? Ok well me either, but still.

-A cab. This is the option I prefer. If you drink to much take a damn taxi! Simple as that. I do it on a regular basis and I am not even close to rich.

songs that define me

As with most things in life I am a day late and a dollar short to Helene's songs that define me link up. To be honest I would have posted this yesterday but I already mentioned her like 28 times in yesterday's post so I didn't want to be too creepy.

I have quite a few songs that mean a great deal to me. They are not necessarily my favorite songs, some I don't like at all for that matter, but they bring me back to a specific time and place so they will forever hold a place in my heart. I am going to do this in timeline fashion for everyone's reading pleasure.

My childhood.

Essentially any Beatles song reminds me of my childhood. We even refered to my mom as the lost Beatle when we were younger because she loved them so much. I beleive with 100% of my heart that my mom would ditch my dad in a hot second if Paul McCartney came a knocking. I actually get really annoyed when people don't like the Beatles. I just don't understand what's not to like?

In addition to the Beatles, the song that really reminds me of being little is this one:

My dad used to blare it anytime my mom asked us to clean up the house. Instead of helping her clean my dad, my sister, and I would grab pots and pans bang on them with spoons and march around the house singing this song. 

Another song that really brings me back is this beauty by Genesis. My sister loved the shit out of this song and we would listen to it over and over again on any given car trip.

Fast forward to high school and there are just so many.

Music played a huge part of my life in high school. I spent almost every weekend at concerts in Detroit and all my weekdays dating boys who played guitars. That was pretty much my only requirement for a boyfriend back in those days.

Literally any Sublime song makes me super happy because I spent so much time listening to them while my bestfriend's brother drove me to school. I was far too cool to take the bus so I rode in a car with way too many people crammed into it to avoid that. Often times I had to sit on someone's lap because I was the last stop, more often than not that someone was wearing pleather pants.

This was my first "song" with a boy. I still love this song a lot, and remember the first time we listened to it in the back of a Ford Taurus:

So I am not sure how or why, but for some reason my little sister and I got really into Mindless Self Indulgence for a long while in high school. Truth be told I still love them. It is not that crazy that I enjoy this type of music because I am a hood rat, but my little sister is the sweetest, most innocent, quiet person. If you met her and knew she listened to this shit you would be stunned.

This next song reminds me of when my grandpa died. It was a hard one on the whole family because my grandpa was the greatest human to ever walk this Earth. We were all pretty messed up at his funeral but in the limo my dad started singing this song and my cousins, sister, and I all sang it at the top of our lungs when we got to the funeral home. I am sure everyone there thought we were totally crazy or complete assholes, but somehow it made it a little better. Plus this is just a sweet song:

I should also give honorable mentions to Kid Rock and Eminem during high school. They are both Michiganders too so we listened to them a lot.

Also, any emo band. I was way into. Dashboard Confessional, At The Drive In, Saves The Day...the list goes on.

Then came college. Man did I love college.

I listen to a bit of everything with the exception of country. I am not a huge fan of country music but by God does it ever remind me of college. My roommates loved country music so much and they would blast it while we got ready for parties. My memories of them are the only reason I can stand country these days. 

Ohh then there is this song:

This song reminds me of a frat party when I met a boy who shall remain nameless. He was the first boy to ever really hurt me and the first boy that really made me feel beautiful. He was serious trouble but so so so so much fun too. This song always makes me feel like a sexy devil when I hear it.

And this one:

I lost a very dear friend to suicide when I was 20. This song reminds me of him because he was obsessed with the Labyrinth. He sang this song constantly and did a weird dance too. His death is the worst thing that has ever happened to me, but it also made me stronger and I will always remember him singing this.

And now.

I still listen to quite an eclectic range of music, but I have to say the music that has stolen my heart in a way I never could have imagined is bluegrass. I can't get enough. I know, I know it is sort of like country but I don't know I just love it.

If you don't think you like bluegrass, or have never heard any, I urge you to check out GreenSky Bluegrass. They are top notch. I have seen them live a few times now and I would bang most of them. Especially the long haired dude. He's saucy.

el giveaway

No, I am not hosting one so sorry if I got your hopes up.

Actually I recently won a giveaway and today I am going to write a little ditty about that.

You see, long before I ever had a blog of my own I was an avid blog reader. I still am. There are many blogs I read every single day when I need a little break from reality at work.

Honestly I love reading anything; the newspaper, books, blogs, magazines, you name it I want to read it. So it is no big shock to me that I am really into reading blogs. One thing I have learned in the year or so I have been a reader of various blogaroonies is that there are a ton of giveaways going on.

Before I started my own blog I was slightly confused by them, so for those of you who don't read a zillion blogs or have your own allow me to explain.

Just like anything in life blogs are often advertised. Some folks I am lead to beleive are even able to make a little extra money off their blog. That my friends is called awesome. One way they make money is by having "sponsors" or advertisers. A great way to get people to advertise with you is to have a lot of followers on your blog via the various blog following methods.

So sometimes blogs host giveaways to promote other blogs. Basically you can win free shit if you follow people on Facebook and the twitster and bloglovin and whatnot. Despite my love of free shit I almost never enter giveaways.

I just don't follow blogs I don't want to read. That is not to say I never enter though. For example, the blog Helene in Between recently hosted a giveaway and I entered that bad lad. Why? Well for one Helene the author of said blog is one of the nicest internet friends I have ever met, and two pretty much every blog participating in that giveaway was a blog I would like to read. I checked them all out and the ones that I was not already following I decided to follow. And guess what?? I freakin won.

I know many of you probably suspect Helene rigged the contest because I am just so awesome, but the truth of the matter is, the old saying "nice guys finish last" is just spot on. I am not really very nice, so cool things tend to happen to me a lot.

If you are questioning whether or not I am nice, I will have you know I recently gave a woman at work the old talk to the hand. Like right up in her face because she was annoying me. Not nice.

The grand prize was $100. Now that is a whole lotta money to a girl like me. I thought long and hard about how I would spend those smackaroos and came up with the perfect solution. I am a firm believer in not spending surprise money on anything you actually need so I have decided on a plane ticket. That $100 is going to cover almost half of the cost of my flight to St. Louis.

Why St. Louis? Well that is where my best boyfriend from college lives and my best girlfriend from college who lives in Michigan is going to meet me there. It is going to be a shit show, and I am excited.

I talk to these two via group text message everyday, and our reunion cannot come soon enough. Thank you Helene for bringing three degenerates back together.

this day...

I'm going to go ahead and apologize in advance, this post is a little more on the serious side.  It just didn't feel right writing one of my normal goofball posts on a day like today, so feel free to ignore this. I promise to only be slightly offended.

Twelve years ago today, I walked into my third period English class and noticed the little wall mounted TV in the corner of the classroom was on. This was weird. Ms. Maurer wasn't the type to play movies in class.

I sat down to realize it was not a movie. The teachers had the news playing in every classroom because word had gotten around that a plane had accidentally crashed into the World Trade Center. How sad we all thought.  As we watched we soon learned it was no accident at all.

The entire class period was spent watching the news. We learned a plane had also crashed into the Pentagon. Immediately every student and I assume the teachers as well began to worry about anyone they knew that lived in New York or DC. We were confused, but for awhile just felt this was a tragic incident.

I knew this was not good, but it wasn't until later in the day after lots of talk had been talked and more news stories unfolded, that I realized how serious it all was. This was not just an attack on some buildings, it was an attack on our Nation. This would change everything.

My 11th grade mind feared the worst. I can remember sitting silently in my Spanish class, the last class of the day, and imagining a war raging in my front yard as I had read about in history books. I pictured my school being bombed, and the fact that my then home was just a few miles from an Air force base clearly meant my family was in imminent danger. I assumed all my over 18 male friends would be drafted and forced to fight in this war I invented in my high school brain.

After school I rode the bus to my best friend's house who had two older brothers. We began plotting ways we could sneak them and my ex boyfriend to their cabin in Canada so none of them would have to be drafted. We were hippie kids, they would not survive in a war. I got in trouble that day for not coming right home from school. Looking back I am sure my mom was as scared as I was.

While none of those things happened, and my life was not impacted in the dramatic ways I imagined that day, the events of September 11 did define my life in many ways. Because that day defined my generation. 9/11 was and still is the worst thing that has happened to America in my entire lifetime. I hope it always will be because I can't imagine something worse, especially now that I am not so innocent.

September 11 changed a lot of things.

Because of that day, many of my friends were sent oversees and came back different. They will probably never be the same.

Because of that day, many families lost their loved ones.

Because of that day, many soldiers were hurt. Some very seriously hurt.

Because of that day, anytime a tragedy occurs we worry it is a threat to our Nation's security.

Because of that day, security at airports and government buildings got a lot stricter.

Because of that day, I have witnessed many of my Middle Eastern friends become victim of prejudice.

Because of that day, I think many of us (myself included) gained a greater sense of pride for being an American.

I may not agree with everything that happens in this country and I prefer a British accent to my own any day, but there is still no place I would rather live.

Today I am attending a Wounded Warrior Project fundraiser and memorial event that a friend of mine is organizing. I have never done something like this in memory of 9/11 but I am glad that I am this year. I am glad because even though I know it will be sad and emotional, I tend to not make a big deal of things. But somethings should be made a big deal of and this is one of them.

Keeping up with Fred

Hey guys, I gotta be  honest, I have nothing to say today. I have a lot of silly work to do and I was not feeling up to snuff last night, so I leave you with a post I wrote a little while back when I took over the blog Dog Hair is an Accessory. The adorable dog pictured below who is not Fred is the author, Adriana's, dog Lil. Her blog post today about Miley Cyrus and what she can learn from dogs is pretty much the best thing on earth, so go check that out.

Ten Ways Dogs are just like Bitchy Socialites 

(this applies to male dogs too, not just the real bitches)

1.) When they get mad they get even

Fred recently got pissed about something or another and decided to ruin my $400 RayBan glasses. Not sunglasses mind you, like the ones I need to see. It was pretty awesome. Almost all dogs decide to ruin something or pee on your floor from time to time. Just like an irate socialite will key your car, burn your house down, or write mean songs about you (I'm talking about you Taylor Swift).

2.) They need their beauty rest.

Both dogs and rich girls love them some sleep. Don't even try to wake Fred up before he is good and ready, he will growl at you. I used to watch Laguna Beach, those girls were the same way.

3.) The expect to be catered to.

Fred lives life like the friggen Kardashians. He has hairstylists, manicurists, chefs, and maids. It must be nice dogs, it must be nice.

4.) They eat their feelings.

Some days Fred just wants to eat everything in sight. Just like girls seem to go right to the ice cream when they get dumped.

5.) The are emotional.

Fred flips shit if he gets yelled at and does everything but write F-you on his knuckles when he gets in trouble.

6.) They nag.

When a dog wants you to throw their ball they will literally sit and bark in your face until you do it. The Real Housewives seem to be constantly nagging their husbands the same way.

7.) They can be super sneaky and manipulative.

Once again watch The Real Housewives, there is shadyness in every damn episode. Fred has his shady moments too, he will climb his ass up on our table from time to time and steal our things. He takes them to his room and lays with them. It is usually a hat or bra...

8.) They have lots of friends.

They might talk behind each other's backs, but they definitely have their posse. And they are always all up in each other's business.

9.) The love getting presents.

Really though, who doesn't? Dogs and socialites are pretty ungrateful however, so don't expect a genuine thank you.

10.) They love to cuddle.

All the damn time.

turkey legs and big old boobies

In case you didn't guess by the name of this post, I spent this Saturday at the Maryland Renaissance festival.

It made for some grade A people watching as I'm sure you can imagine.

I also learned a thing or two should I ever find myself stepping back in time again.

-The best way to prepare for a Renaissance Festival is by drinking Puerto Rican alcoholic Capri Suns on the ride there.

-Your boobs should be out and about at the Renaissance festival whether they look good or not. Even if you are in your late 70s, bust them out. Do you clock in at 600+ pounds, show those girls. It don't matter, they just must be out.

-Shirts are optional at the Ren Fest. Just like the ladies, men need to expose their chests as much as possible.

-Do not forget your cod piece! Especially if said piece is gold and you are wearing your devil horns. There were a lot of devils walking around in the 1500s.

-If you sit in the front row during a skit, someone from your group will be forced to participate in the show, and it will be awesome.

-Always take the slide when possible. Walking is for chumps.

-Turkey legs are not that good. Even though everyone is walking around with them, save your money.

-You feet will get filthy at the Ren Fest and you may need to wash them in a fountain.

-If you hang around with a bunch of drunks they will be called onto the carpet.

I learned a bunch about history too, apparently people during the Renaissance loved to wear raccoon tails, they had deep fryers, Pepsi was the soft drink of choice, and many men rocked crocks.