Grilling out.

beccas sheppard blog	1
cough syrup	1
becca’s shepherd switzer	1
becca shappard blog

It’s nice to see that my fan base knows how to spell my name.

Also, apparently I am more popular plural.

I somehow caught a cold. I most likely gathered it from the enormous petri dish they call “United Airlines.” Airplanes are like being inside a virus capsule. So many germs floating around in such close quarters. It’s a shock more people don’t accidentally get pregnant on them.

I accidentally just napped for 3 hours. This is a problem, because when I get even so much as a 45 minute nap in during the day, it makes my attempt at falling asleep at nighttime futile. I lay on my back completely alert for like an hour, then start pestering Trent and rolling around and huffing and puffing out of boredom and frustration. Then Trent tries to convince me to get up and go do computer stuff, but I refuse, because I’d be on it until 4 a.m. and just perpetuate the no-sleeping cycle.

A lot of times I resort to playing endless games of Word Mole on my shit Blackberry, but the problem with laying on my back with my arms bent to hold my phone two inches from my face is that my biceps start to turn into cement and hurt like a biotch in no time. Then I have to alternate rounds of Word Mole with stretching my arms out straight in front of me for minutes at a time to counteract the cramps. It’s this whole…thing.

Tonight I will be taking sleeping pills. The only problem I have with those is that they make my arms feel like I have worms crawling through them. If I can get over that, I’ll be sleeping like a baby in no time.

I don’t know why that’s a phrase, “Sleeping like a baby.” Babies are the worst sleepers in the world. They’re fussy, they scream, they sleep in 30 minute intervals with screeching sessions in between, the beep of the microwave wakes them up and they scream some more. The phrase should be more like “sleeping like a blind, deaf, dead man.”

Something on me smells good. Really good. I can’t figure out what it is. Was it my face wash? My moisturizer? Did I put lotion on today? Is my shampoo particularly potent this evening? What is the source of this aphrodisiacal aroma I am producing? I did eat Taco Bell for lunch, but…that’s not it.

Well, maybe it is.

Lil Wayne’s teef bother me. A lot. That mouth, that crowded, jagged mouth (mouf, if I’m staying in character) of his is really frightening when he opens it. He should stop. He reminds me of the bully in A Christmas Story, but…darker.

Whose idea was it to put jewelry on peoples’ incisors? It’s stupid. How did that progression happen? Jewelry on necks, ears, fingers, bellybuttons, noses…….teeth? Bad idea, boss. There’s a reason children dread having braces. They’re hideous. Why would you ever make a more distracting, more conspicuous blingy version on purpose as an accessory? A proper, attractive mouth should be clean, straight, white, and bright. Not “bright” like, disco ball/rhinestone bangles bright. Like pearly, heavenly gates white-bright.

Well, that’s all for now folks. I’ve dragged this on long enough.

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” I’ve been spending so much money. It’s bad. But it’s like all on food! It’s not on anything bad. It’s like….I’ve GOT to have a lobster claw tonight. “

Walking dead.

I am so ill. My darling husband passed along a vicious bug to me this week. Yesterday I spent the day curled up in a ball of agony, aching from head to toe, pain all the way down to my bones, coughing like a madman, mucus all up in my business, and a fever. Eight teaspoons of Tussin, 5 ibuprofen, a Vitamin C tablet (for good measure), and six bowls of cereal later, and I am still on my deathbed.

Cough syrup is so gross. I haven’t had to drink any cough syrup since I was literally four years old. I remember having to sit on the kitchen counter while my parents spoon fed it to me, resisting all the while. That shit tastes like gasoline and flavored lip gloss. Ugh. I have no choice this week though. My coughing is repulsing even my dog. It hurts so bad, it’s like someone is attacking my trachea with a blowtorch every time I bark out a stream of coughs.

At least if I can take down shots of Tussin, I at least know that I can probably tackle shots of 100 proof rum this weekend, that is if I make it out of this alive. Thursday afternoon I am arriving back in the 51503 to rendevouz with my old comrades for the weekend. I will be hospitalized. Or incarcerated. There’s really no way around either of those.

I hate people that have comment-to-comment arguments on things like YouTube videos. Does anyone really win those fights? Who do you brag to when you totally diss on someone’s comment under a Bruno Mars music video? Let’s be serious. Get a life.

The next person on my hit list:

Ma babyboi iz doin all sorts of flips inside me! Lol my shorties r crackn up:) “mom my baby brother iz crazi” iz wut thy keep sayn….hahahah….awww! I luv my lil familia:)

At home wit da shorties:) aint nada like steppin into tha NEW YEAR wit tha ones i love tha mostest!!! erybody else b safe and have a HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!

I’m off to find something that will knock me completely out for the next 24 hours. In a perfect world, I will wake up completely refreshed, and my sickness will have left me entirely. Instead I will probably wake up with mascara smeared all over the left side of my face, hair greasier than a Whopper Jr., vomit on my pillow, and my eyes crusted together.

Only time will tell.

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B: Eggs or oatmeal?

J: Eggs.

B: F*ck you, I’m eating oatmeal.

The Hairy Truth.

I’m starting to just not see the point in shaving my legs anymore. My body temperature has fallen so many degrees closer to hypothermia that in response, it’s trying desperately to adapt by sprouting hair. Seriously, I spend all this time making my legs smooth as eggs in the shower, and then the moment I step out, my body goes into subzero temperatures and my leg hair starts growing faster than bamboo. It is frustrating to say the least.

Maybe I’ll move to Europe so I can fit in.

…Probably not.