The other day we met Olivia, Sheila, and Linda for coffee to celebrate Linda’s birthday. We were Joyceshocked by the fact that the happy little group could only sit and coffee klatch for 1.5 hours. It’s a sad day in Joyceland when your BFF’s can only give you 1.5 hours. The three of them, who liken their appearances to those of Chuck’s Angels, are now on Joyceland probation and the only thing that will get them back into our good graces is a Joycespanking and the promise of more time, next time, with love and gifts. Sparkling gifts.
Was this photo taken on a wash day or not? Just wondering.
Does anyone know where you can buy Smencils? You know, pencils with scent—strawberry, red raspberry, orange dreamsicle? Bulldog would like a few and we can’t, for the life of us, find Smencils anywhere. Apparently all the second graders are sniffing their pencils while writing heartfelt essays. (Maybe a Smencil or two would make bill paying a little more fun for Joyce girlas? Picture this: a $753 check to Target . . . pause . . . snnniiifffff your orange dreamsicle pencil . . . there . . . now don’t you feel better?)
The other trend passing through the entire second grade is whether or not to respect the pouch when drinking from a juice box. If you respect the pouch, you punch the straw through the designated hole and begin drinking. Simple, easy, respectful. If you don’t respect the pouch, you punch a hole anywhere you want on the box and then suck through the straw aggressively in the non-respectful place. Sheila tried this with a can of Miller and it made the entire experience a little more exciting.
Here was one of Bulldog’s recent conversations with a friend:
BD: Did you hear about Tiger Woods?
Friend: Yeah, he got in an accident driving away from his house going Christmas shopping very late at night because it was Black Friday.
Priceless. Here’s a little more priceless for you: like everyone else in the world we were enjoying more Tiger talk late Saturday night in the curtained private room of the Firefly. Makes you feel like a celebrity yourself when you’re in the hidden, secret room off of the bar. We gave this “hidden in a bar” feeling four out of four stars.
Anyway, the women in the group revealed that when they heard about Tiger’s indiscretions, their first thought went to Elin Woods–how is she doing, how awful, such a beauty, poor thing. The men in the group revealed that their first thought upon learning about Tiger went to Google—how quickly can we Google Tiger’s girlfriends and see how hot they are without wifey knowing. And then the bomb dropped. Spike, yes, dear, sweet, devoted Spike admitted that last Monday while we were sitting together with Bulldog in the Orlando airport sipping extra-large McDonald’s triple thick milkshakes, he ripped out Rachel Uchitel’s name out of the paper so he could Google her first thing upon getting off the plane! Very, very semi-naughty!! Right under our very nose Spike is ripping the article out of the paper and we’re just sitting there happily slurping on the shake, oblivious to his mancrime. Well. As you might imagine, we took matters into our own hands and promptly grabbed our putter to poke Spike several times in the pee-pee. Hard pokes–like a sword fight. Yes, we did. And that took care of that little Google problem.
And we think Rachel U. has a penis nose anyway.
So, poll your lovers and find out: did they Google Tiger’s girlfriends, too??? If so, Joyce says, “Grab your putter . . . ” xoxo