Sinning is fun again

Um, helloooo, MIA much?

My weekend was friggin awesome, it started Thursday afternoon and is just ending now. We were in Tahoe visiting the Teebs’ family. They’re really fun and I mentioned how I wish hanging out with my mom was as unstressful. OHMYGOD how fucking terrible is that? It was terrible when I just thought it but actually verbalizing and committing the sentiment to the internet seems somehow worse. But also kinda good. I hope other people feel the same way.

Speaking of stressful moms, my shame was lessened when I realized that it’s not all fun and sunshine for TBU and his brothers when it comes to their mom, either. We tried to go out to lunch with her, she had a lot of conditions to be met though. The main one being that we had to eat on the water. We couldn’t just eat a tasty lunch in a convenient location, no we had to eat somewhere overpriced with a view. So we did. Do not eat at Jakes. Now, I know why TBU puts up with all my ridiculous demands in stride.

But let’s get onto the good stuff. We got to the cabin Saturday night in time for dinner, while everyone ate their chicken soup, I ate my specially prepared veggie soup thanks to Mama TBU. I was so grateful. Especially after last weeks staff meeting where everyone but me got a free lunch because bossman forgot about my vegetarian meal. I’m glad he remembered the two other special orders though, that made me feel real good. And fuck no, I do not want chips and/or bite size kitkats for lunch.

OK, trying to reign it in. We were talking about good stuff, no? I mean, the weekend was awesome, so there. My favorite place to eat in Tahoe is El Sancho, go there, get the breakfast burrito with avocado and thank me later. I hesitate to put that Yelp link in because there are only 5 reviews (soon to be 6!) but it’s got the address and phone number. Seriously just go to Tahoe for the best breakfast burrito of your life. We did, and we took it across the street and ate on the water because Mama TBU was with us.

The gambling was not so fruitful, save for the momentary excitement we all felt while playing the Big Spin and the needle got this close to the $1000 slice of pie. We rode that wave clear through this morning. Otherwise, Chris the blackjack dealer took our monies and got TBUs mom all in a huff when he hit on me.

Oh yeah and there’s a hot tub. Which is such a frickin luxury on a cool night after casino cocktails. Of course, the brothers TBU cannot be bothered to pack water attire. TBU can barely be bothered to pack. Anyone who has seen him away from home overnight can attest that his luggage is a Trader Joe’s bag, double bagged if it’s more than one night. So when TBUs naked brother started to massage my back with his feet I had to draw the line. It’s not the first time I’ve been the only clothed one, either. They don’t even realize they’re naked, they walk around with their skinny, straight line alien bodies in complete comfort. It’s almost admirable and at this point I barely notice it.

On the way back we stopped at the jelly belly factory in Fairfield. We wanted to go again to get samples and see the rainbow-y production line but we almost left after seeing all the mccock/pitbull signs in the parking lot. These weren’t lawn signs for the uncommitted, these were almost billboard size for the truly committed asshole/billionaire. As we walked in we wished we had Obama shirts but settled for all the free goodies we could get. Once during the tour we got stuck behind two old ladies with too much perfume. By the end, I learned to follow the Japanese woman to stay ahead of the crowd and have a pleasant breathing environment. Those are a people at the front of the line. So my point is don’t buy jelly belly jelly beans unless… well I would hope you wouldn’t want to, especially if you have a uterus and enjoy higher learning. (Fruit flies are incredibly important to science, man. They share 98% of our DNA and most of the medical advances we benefit from are a result of fruit fly testing at some point in the research and development process. Yes, even Down’s Syndrome studies you fucking fuck.)

Whoa. I really can’t help myself at this point though. What do we have, like 9 days? I may lose my mind and start throwing poop. The sheer amount of things I want to say about this election is precisely what has prevented me from posting the last few weeks. It’s too much. I literally can start crying at the thought of either candidate winning, for different reasons. Do I believe Barack is our messiah? No, but I believe in him. I honestly do, and if, on November 4th, I am cheering instead of throwing up I will know that I’ll undoubtedly be disappointed in him at several points during his administration. But those are disappointments I’m willing to accept considering the alternative.

The Millionizer also reminds us Californians to VOTE NO ON PROP 8*

*godammit, do I really have to say that? I don’t see how a couple of homos ruins your marriage. Get over yourselves you weird ass religious freaks. And the next pair of mormons at my door has an earful coming, and a couple cold glasses of water. It gets hot out there.