Santa Baby...I want some Chalkboard Paint!

Today's post is brought to you out of absurdity. And tradition. Mostly absurdity.

You know how it is: you visit friends, speech gets twisted, things are said out of context, you say something horribly embarrassing and off color and it haunts you for a year. Which of course means your friends also coined some ridiculous phrases, but  YOU don't remember them. Why? Why so unprepared! I have a solution!

Need to write something down? Do it on the WALL!

QUOTE WALL. 

Yeah, yeah. Quote boards are popular, and part of the tradition I mentioned earlier. I once bought a poster board on day #1 of a 2 week trip to Minnesota, and by the end we were cramming things to fit on there. Accidental innuendos spurred on by pulling all-night talk sessions ::cough, cough:: or wine....Anyways, it has since been laminated and is living in someone's closet. For a reunion maybe. Where we will laugh at ourselves. I heartily recommend the practice.

Well, fabulously creative phrases, and accidents, and sometimes poor comebacks just seem to "POOF!" into existence in my house. And I need a quote board. I know, "Don't you have an expo board for that!? I mean you are obsessed!" Well, no. Because, by definition Expo-topia is organized. And my quote wall should be anything but. ::petulantly sticks out her tongue::

When Sisterita and I were kids, my DAD actually brought home a 4x6 ft chalkboard. Sisterita loved it. I think she still laments its loss in the house sale. My point is, I got curious and decided to look into buying a chalkboard for capturing the quotes and fun and silly sayings! But...I discovered CHALKBOARD PAINT. The flexibility! The options! The stylish nature of it! I mean LOOK what I found!

Have a new obsession with Greek architecture? DONE.

Want to let your dinner party know the menu for the evening? Hell, they could rate it! 

Or, if you are a vampire and can't abide mirrors?

What if you have your own Wilson, you know from Home Improvement?

 Only your neighbor is mute. And mysterious... Probably anti-hero seductive. Well, now he can leave you notes. On the fence. In a gloomier garden, of course. More wild ivy, less sandalwood furniture.

The one I couldn't find: the one by the "facilities." I mean, how much easier would like for dive bar owners be if they painted stalls with chalk paint that they could wash, vs replacing metal doors vandalized by drunken, vindictive exes? You know I am right. I should invent that.

So, Santa...how about some Chalkboard Paint? I have been downright noble this year. Let's make it happen.

Business in the front, and party in the back… and I’m not talking about a mullet...

 Today's installment is brought to you by guest blogger, the incomparable, incredibly funny—and yes, she is poised to humiliate me—Sisterita! I, B-Verbose, do take credit for the formatting and hyperlinks...but, well that isn't really all that impressive, and seriously, if you don't laugh out loud at her writing style, you are a slimy snivel-y snail.

Formula:

Preface + Easily relatable protagonist + Amazing vindictive antagonist + Climax + 

Pertinent moral and/or life lesson + Conclusion = GREAT story

(all parts mentioned above) +segue for a sequel = AMAZING story

Confession -  formulas make me weak at the knees…

Preface:

B-Verbose has been asking, begging, PLEADING for a guest “blogger”. Although much in tune with verbosity and grammatical excellence, I have been overcome with hesitance. Typically a sound reason rears its welcomed head. Example(s):

I’m too tired.

Tonight, well, I’m just not feeling it.

Nothing I have to say is complimentary.

In all honesty, this enchanted day has been quite surreal. Work was more of an adult-sized playground than socially acceptable. The local antique store advertised a majestic mirror for $39.99 (and needless to say I took full advantage of their blindness and misjudgment). A traffic jam halted traffic  (in an otherwise quiet town). Thus, upon unlocking the red door that marks the entrance to my home, and carrying in the daily “steals” purchased for decorative purchases, I poured a small tasting of wine and prepared for dullness.

Protagonist:

B-Verbose is a goddess among women. This terminology (which is not used often enough) is perfectly applicable to my “big little sister”. As a 5’ 4” bombshell with red lipstick and killer high heels, B-Verbose stops traffic in the best of ways. Married women are envious, single woman stand hopeless, and I… as the loyal little sister… remain her biggest cheer leader and P.R. gal.

Antagonist:

I couldn't find Jim Carey in the Mask...

Every woman NEEDS a little black dress- every woman DESERVES a killer black skirt. There is nothing like a 1940’s silhouette to:

1. Accentuate the backside 
2. Empower the inner dominatrix
3. Make middle aged men stop in their tracks and shout the cartoon-wolf like “AAAH-OOOOOO- GAAAAAAA”

But remember, Gentle Reader, with great power comes great responsibility!

Climax: A personal favorite of mine, for obvious reasons

Confession... unlike B-Verbose (who has the Cadillac of filters albeit no common sense), I am a “say what I think” sort of lady. The big red “Stop” or “Abort” button of life has been broken since ’93. Accordingly, after traffic jams and spontaneous purchases, I unlocked the door of our humble abode with one thing on the mind:

Finish decorating the bathroom quickly as to make way for wine and wisdom by 8:30 pm.

Keep in mind, Gentle Reader, yours truly is the oldest 22 year old (in a figurative sense) to ever grace the planet earth.

SOOOOOOOO…..

As the amazingly priced mirror from 1961 is being prepped for exhibition in the dining room, in walks B-Verbose. The door opens, the clouds part, and the birds chirp as always in moments of “fairy tale” entrances. 

Me: “Blah blah blah, blah blah.”

Her: “Blah blah blah, blah blah blah, blah blah.”

Me: “You are going to HATE me. Turn around, shut up, and let me take a picture.”

Her: “What’s wrong? Is there something wrong with my outfit?”

Me: “If by wrong you mean your seam has busted and your ASS is EXPOSED, then yes, maybe there is something wrong…..”

The slit skirt...that WAS in the back!

Dear Lord, as always, thank you for the sh*ts and the giggles!

Very few pictures were captured. Hysterics ensued, tears formulated in green eyes, a full on “pity-party” commenced on the kitchen floor. As a result of the “wardrobe malfunction” texts were sent, calls were made and threats were exclaimed.

If anybody, ANYBODY, noticed but DIDN’T say something, I’ll NEVER forgive them. My ASS was exposed at a non-profit kickoff event. I could die, I WILL die, ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

:: insert yours truly pouring wine into  a glass, passing it to the victimized party, and making rap song references to lighten the mood::

Little in the middle, but you got much back.

My Anaconda don’t want none unless you’ve got buns hon.

Big bottom girls you make the rocking world go round.

BEND OVER THAT ASS TOO FAT (personal favorite, dur)!

Lesson:

Ladies should invest, focus on, and fully inspect themselves in full length mirrors before leaving home… and Sir Mix A Lot should make a song about the ritual of it all.

Conclusion:

Some say Delta Burke. Some say Ginnifer Goodwin. The world, however, is dead wrong. B-Verbose is the Elizabeth Taylor of our time. Instead of violet eyes, hers are green. Instead of multiple husbands, she’s holding out for the one worthy of her attentions. Non-profits, married men, and lesbians alike, WATCH OUT. If she can stop traffic in a black skirt, just imagine…..

Lord have mercy, baby’s got her blue jeans on!

Tune in next week for:

You Say Summer Dress, I Say Indecent Exposure!