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The Girl From T-Town

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The Girl From T-Town

I will never be The Girl From Ipanema. I should be really pissed off at this. I’ll never be tall. If I wanted to be tall then I’d have to be stretched out by some sort of evil medieval rack. When I go walking nobody every says “ahhh”. It’s more like “AHHHHH! What the hell is wrong with that big haired mismatched…umm…lady?”. I’d walk to the sea every day but it takes me at least two hours by car. If I was to walk to the sea then it would take (does math) a shitload of time. I’ll never be that awesome girl from Ipanema.

I’m pretty cool with this.

So I’ll never be tall and light will never give me a tan because I am a black hole of everything. If I’m wearing the color brown then logically I should wear my pimp ass fuzzy leopard print slip on shoes. The head scarf with the skulls on my head don’t mean I’m too lazy to do my hair it means I’m trying to prevent my gigantic fro from devouring your entire family.

Pimp Shoes!

           Pimp Shoes!

I completely care or some crap that your perfect family is not taken out by my evil puff that some may call hair. 

The tattoos mean something to me and it doesn’t mean anything to you. It shouldn’t. They are not your tattoos. I have piercings in my body because they not only look cool to me but I really dig getting them. Yes…my shorts are guys shorts. I don’t really feel like having the bottom of my ass hang out for everyone to attempt to avoid eye contact with. Craft beer gets me excited. Really bad B movies also get me excited.

I’ll never be that girl who never sees from Ipanema. Nor will I ever be that one that has figured out that prints don’t match other prints just because they are the same color. I’m just me.



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I just wanted to say that I’m proud of the fact that the United States has finally realized that same-sex marriage should be allowed. I’m proud of those who have taken all of these years to fight for equal rights. I am proud that now those that love each other can have a way to make a union legal. This is a historical day that the children of our children will look upon and go “It wasn’t legal back then???”.  There is so much that still needs to be done but this is a huge milestone and I’m proud to see it finally happen.


Love Is Love!

“Tipsy” Cerulean

Just One Of Those Weeks

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It’s been one of those weeks that makes you want to kick something that would make everyone go “OH MY GOD! I can’t believe she kicked that!”.

I dropped out of a few things that I had my hands in because I felt that my hands were no longer helping as much as they were just there. Constantly being out of the loop on something you’re suppose to be helping or reporting on is a complete waste of my time. Yeah…I”m a bit hurt and sad about the whole thing but what are you gonna do? Sitting around with a thumb up my ass while watching people bumble around like blind dogs bumping into walls isn’t my cup of tea.(booze…beer…water..whatever…)

At least I now have time to do a new project or eight.

I don’t want to even get started on my computer issues of the week. So much computer down time has put me way behind on important things that need to be done each week. Constantly playing catch up is getting old.

I really could use a vacation. Or someone to make me drinks and serve them to me like I was on vacation.


I’m going to hit up some craft beer places this weekend. See a little bit of baseball. Possibly fight dragons while creating the worlds greatest masterpiece out of dried up markers.


I learned ten exciting things!

1. People ask you for things and sometimes you only get jack shit back in return.

2. Sometimes being a hermit is better than dealing with people.

3. Don’t drink tequila straight out of the bottle because it’s just not tasty or fancy.

4. When you’re ignored or out of the loop it’s a sign you should quietly leave so you can at least hold your head up high (and try not to throw up some middle fingers in the process).

5. St. Bishop kicks so much ass. So much ass this week. So….much….ass…..

6. There is crying in baseball because…FUCK MAN…what the hell is wrong with the Tigers? Come on already!

7. Chalk art rocks!

8. Parsley can be your friend. (Yes…I’m watching a cooking show while I write this.)

9. Dogs don’t understand that they cannot lay on a board game while you’re playing on the floor.

10. Loggerhead sea turtles have been on the endangered species list since 1978. (We’re doing a report.)

Here’s To A Better Week Next Week!


It’s Been A While

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It’s been a long while since I’ve really posted anything exciting on here. Or anything at all. I was so caught up on other projects that I started to neglect the ones that truly matter.


Yeah. I’m being pretty selfish but fuck it.Your own shit is the ONLY that really matters.

So…since it’s been such a long while I’ll update you on what the hell I’m actually going to be doing on this website (at least once a week…go me…). I’ll start by reintroducing myself. My name is Tipsy. I am a woman. Got the girl bits to prove it. I throw crap on a website that involves stuff on my mind, my family, and other things that are going on.  I use a lot of bad words and say things that would make a truck driver blush. There you have it.

Holy Shit! It’s that simple! Set it and forget it! Or something like that.

I’m going to leave it at that for now as I have a lot of stuff coming up (once or twice a week as I’m feeling like a motherfucking overachiever now. Feel my overachieving muscles bitches.)

Till Then,


Can You Picture That?

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 A week ago Bishop & I had the opportunity to go someplace, just the two of us, & enjoy an adult beverage. In my case it was several beverages. It felt like complete freedom. The opportunity to go to a sports bar, drink some beers, discuss baseball, & forget about crap for at least an hour.

When we first arrived at our bar stools I noticed that the juices used for mixed drinks in the fridge had these plastic phallic looking things on the top of them. Being the mature adult that I am I instantly felt the need to take a picture, post it on twitter, & make the comment that the bar put penises on their juice. I also felt this mature need to ask where I could get a penis juice topper.



Not finding an opportunity to take a penis topper photo I settled back into a few tall beers & baseball discussion.

Nothing turns me on more then great baseball talk. Not only am I an adult with a penis juice topper fetish but I can’t listen to baseball sports radio or have a related talk without sporting a woman woody. Yes. I am that mature.

After a while two young, rednecky (I made that word up…rednecky….it should be a real word. Just saying.) saddled (see what I did there? “Saddled”. “Rednecky”. OK. I’ll stop.) on up to the bar. Completely ignoring them I finished my third tall beer (Yes. I am lying. It was more then three.) It was at this moment that I finally got my opportunity to take a picture of the penis juice topper. I just, politely, asked the bartender if she could pull out the bottle so I could look at the top.

I am a stealthy ninja.

I made the comment that it looked like a dildo to the delight of the two rednecky individuals sitting next to me. Many laughs & comments on how the juice looked like “cum” were made by them. Not really giving a shit what they thought I was OK with the fact that I had made some ones dirty joke evening. I’m a people person. (I’m lying again. I am not a people person.)

On our way out of the bar Bishop made the comment that they were the sons of some fellas who lived in a small town next to ours. I asked Bishop if he was uncomfortable with my comment on the penis juice topper. He wasn’t. Like me, Bishop really doesn’t give a shit what people think or who someone is. He says & does whatever he feels like. He did, however, know that they might make that joke to someone else in the future, that it will get around, blah blah blah. Being the not a people person I am I really don’t give a shit. So I made some rednecky young guys laugh. Good for them.

This got me thinking about small communities in the country where we live. I’ve lived here for ten years and have never lost my big city mentality. You don’t talk to strangers. You don’t give a shit what anyone thinks about you. You keep your own personal business to yourself. Alas it doesn’t work that way in the country. Everyone knows everyone and people love to talk around here. This could be the biggest reason that I don’t speak to people. It’s probably just the fact that I don’t give a crap and I am not a people person. I don’t care if you are the son of some big guy who owns a lot of land. I don’t care if your cousin was the bartender. I also don’t really care what you think.

Togetherness & community isn’t a bad thing. Knowing lots of people is good. But not being yourself because a rednecky young fella might tell his pa a gal made a dirty joke at the bar isn’t me. So…I’ll keep making my penis juice topper jokes, cursing like a drunken sailor, & being me. You can take the girl out of the city, give her a chicken as a pet, & teach her to drive stick but you can’t take the city way of thinking out of her.

You shouldn’t have to.

Snowmagedon 2012?

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This past Sunday everyone was reporting the massive amounts of snow that were going to hit Virginia. They were warning people to be careful (which you should be), making videos on how to properly drive through snow (which you should know how to do), & telling everyone to get prepared.

Bread & milk were selling out fast at the grocery stores. (I don’t get it. Why do you need 20 loaves of bread & a cart full of milk? Planning a sandwich party?).  It was the only thing that anyone could talk about.

“Are you prepared?”

“Do you think it’s going to be a lot?”


I’m originally from Ohio so snow doesn’t freak me out. I laugh at little flakes. I flip off blizzards while drinking cocktails.


Man I really hate snow.

The snow came. It snowed all day. It snowed throughout the night. It snowed a couple of  inches. Monday was a holiday so there was no school to cancel. It was beautiful. It was packable. After it was all said & done it lasted….a day. A whole whopping day. As temperatures rose it was almost all gone by Monday afternoon. Tuesday gave us even warmer weather, leaving us with nothing but puddles.

Puddles people.

Today it’s going to be in the 70s. Snowmagedon? Bah. Whatever. You people freak out too much. Chill out. Stop listening to your stupid weather man, & learn to read a weather map (& check out temperatures.)

I spit in your face February “snowstorm”. I only have one thing to say to you.


(Took photo in backyard the morning after the snow. By the afternoon it was all gone.)

If You Loved Me….

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…you’d let me eat your brains.

How romantic is that?

Valentines Day. That one day of the year where we are supposed to show love to our someone special. Hearts & love & songs sung in really high voices.

Alrighty then.

So. I have to buy something for someone who I love one day a year when I should show my appreciation to them every year.

Thank you “St.” Bishop for putting up with my dumb ass every day of the year.

Exactly how does one show love on this day that actually shows your real appreciation? Candy is meh. It’s candy. Flowers die. Nudity beats underwear in a heated battle. (Hehe) A card is appreciated all of one minute before it thrown to the side. How the fuck am I suppose to show my appreciation to the one person who actually, for as much as one is able, understands my crazies, my weirdness, the fact that I don’t like root beer (OK. He doesn’t get that one), & would defend me against ninjas? Especially when I don’t have the money to buy him a robot giraffe?

Damn good question Tipsy! Damn good question!

Why thank you me!

I’ve come up with a list of things that, if I was able to, I would get “St.” Bishop this year to show my love.

1. Robot Giraffe Complete With Neck Saddle: Perfect for riding into work on sunny days & reaching things off of really tall buildings (Oh look! I seem to have left my sunglasses on a skyscraper. Go robo giraffe goooooo!)

2. Giant Poking Stick Of DOOM: This is not an ordinary stick. It’s a stick of DOOM! Used to poke people at work or on the go. This poking stick can strike fear into anyone who sees it. Also great for scratching your back or dialing a telephone from 20 feet away.

3. Personal Grocery Shopping Bitch: Hate Grocery shopping? Enjoy making others feel really uncomfortable? Why not combine both with your own shopping bitch! Send them alone to pick up your supplies or have them tag along. Make others feel really awkward as you belittle your bitch in the middle of the cereal aisle. “I said no raisins (Whapp Whapp With DOOM Stick). Gimp mask not included.

4. Pantsless Fridays: As your new overlord of everything awesome I shall declare Fridays officially off-limits to pants. Don’t feel like doing laundry on a Thursday night? Just don’t feel like wearing britches? Fuck it! From now on Fridays you don’t have to! At work or at the gym. Pantsless Fridays can’t be beat!

5. Trained Zombie Security System: Hate your neighbor? Can’t stand the sight of their dog escaping only to crap in your yard? Well..NO MORE! Our trained zombie security system is for you! It can eat the brains of your enemies, scare small children, force dogs to crap in their own yard out of fear. (Warning: May smell bad. May rot all over your yard. Wear brain protecting helmet when coming in contact with zombie. May cause vomiting.)

THIS….is how I show my love.

“Tipsy” Cerulean

P.S. – Pickle isn’t getting a zombie or a doom stick. Instead I bought her cupcake smelling body spray. She would have enjoyed having a zombie though.