Due to the last entry, SMF believes that he and I use the word “Babe” too much. However I pointed out that although the word may be spelled the same and pronounced the same, it is a TOTALLY different word almost every time we us it.

Such as:


“Babe.” = “Look, I’ll explain this only one more time…” Mainly used by SMF and usually happens afer….

“Ummm…babe?” = “Ummmm…I’m about to ask you something and I might end up looking like Jessica Simpson and her Chicken of the Sea moment, please don’t laugh so hard that you cause injury.” (I use this one more often than I care to admit)

“Babe!” = “If you don’t knock that off right now, I’m going to deck you.” (used by me when SMF decides to work on his NFL tackling skills or used by SMF when I decide to ‘clean out his clogged pores’.)

“Hey Babe.” = Our typical phone greeting

“BABE!” = “No, you don’t look fat. Yes, those shoes match. Yes, yer hair looks great. Yes, I love that dress. Now can we PLEASE, for the love of all things holy, walk out the door so I don’t start eating my own arm?!?” (Look, it’s not MY problem that I want to look good for him! Yeesh.)

“Babe…” = “You exasperate me. You and yer annoying habits irritate the pants off of me. (“No! Not like that! Get off of me!”) Remind me again why we’re dating?” (Used by both of us)

“Baby?????” = “Please, oh please, oh please buy me this!!!!” (Used only by me. Although when SMF hears the ‘Y’ at the end, he suddenly is unable to understand the English language. Jerk.)

“Hey, Babe?” = “Hey, yer closer to whatever it is I’m about to ask you for and I’m too lazy to get up and get it myself.” (Used by both of us, usually when we’re in the throes of a TV induced, comatose state.)

“Awww, babe…” = “Well, shit. I didn’t mean to make you cry! I was just being a testosterone poisoned ass because it’s a day that ends in ‘Y’! I can’t help it!! It just happens. PLEASE DON’T STOP HAVING SEX WITH ME!” (Take a wild guess on who uses this one…)


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
UPDATED TO INCLUDE THIS PSA FROM A CERTAIN SPECIAL MAN FRIEND!!

Alright, folks??? Want to know the SITUATIONS that happen to surround the “Baby?????” usage?

Read these two PRIME examples....then tell me I'm a jerk. (Keep in mind that this is the girl that wants a total of 14 people in our wedding party!!! I'm trying to save money here.)

1) We were at the mall and I got distracted by the Sharper Image displays. I let her out of my sight for ONE SECOND!! (I know! I know! Dumb. Dumb. Dumb.) Next thing I know she's in a jewelry store with a TEN THOUSAND DOLLAR DIAMOND on her finger. She's standing there looking all cute, showin' off her clevage and battin' her eyelashes sayin, “Baby?????” Um, yeah. In that case, NO HABLO INGLES!

2) We're leaving the movie theater and heading towards my car. Suddenly she darts out of my reach and she's standing next to a little red Miata doing the “Baby?????” routine. My only response was to start chattin up the blonde who getting into her car and wouldn't you know it??? Suddenly Cass materializes next to my arm and is murderously quiet while I finish my conversation with the blonde regarding her windshield wipers.


Okay....let it rip. I'm a big jerk.

The One with the Text Messages

Okay, so remember way back when....I mentioned something about SMF and I working on something hilarious. And then it never came? Remember?

Well here it is. Special Man Friend and I spent countless hours reconstructing ACTUAL text message/IM conversations we have had in the last month.

So, as usual, please remember that these conversations ACTUALLY happened. You know what's even better??? These are TEXT MESSAGES people!!! Texting. Over phones. From different locations. (You'll quickly see why we need "Unlimited Text Messages" on every cellular plan.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

ME: HI BABY! HI! HI! IT’S MORNING AND I’M TOTALLY STOKED TO SEE YOU!!! HOW WAS THE BACHELOR PARTY??? DID YOU SEE LOTS OF TITTIES?!?!?!?
SMF: why? why? please stop. with the caps. and the exclamation points. why? why so much screaming? i’m so hungover.
ME: Sucks to be you…on so many levels.
SMF: i heard that. (and thanks for not screaming.)




SMF: Wakey wakey baby.
SMF: C’mon sweetie, you need to get up now.
SMF: Babe. Answer me. At least let me know you’re alive.
SMF: Okay, I have now called your cell AND your landline! What’s going on?! Why aren’t you answering me???
SMF: BABE!!! I’M NOT KIDDING! YOU BETTER CALL ME OR I WILL SERIOUSLY CALL 911.
ME: Oh, sorry babe. I was out to breakfast with Mom and I had my phone off. Sorry. Tee hee?!
SMF: babe, yer slowly killing me.




ME: What does ‘Fo Shizzle my Nizzle’ mean?
SMF: HAHAHAHAHA!!!! ‘For Sure my N*gger’
ME: WHAT?!?!?!?!? Why haven’t you ever told me this?!?!?!?
SMF: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! Yer kidding, right?
ME: NO!!! I have been going around spewing racial slurs?!?!?!?! Are you kidding me??? Please tell me yer kidding.
SMF: HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!
ME: Oh dear god…I COULD HAVE BEEN SHOT!!!
SMF: When were you ANYWHERE that you were in danger of being shot?
ME: I’m just saying!!! You knew and you didn’t tell me?!? Ugh…how long have people been laughing at me???
SMF: For that?? No idea. Laughing at you on general principle??? Probably your entire life I would guess.
ME: i hate you.




ME: You better have Oreos with you when you get here or I may just have to kill you.
SMF: No “Please”? A "Thank You" maybe? Shoot, I’d settle for that sentence in the form of a question at this point.
ME: Babe…would you please bring your PMS-y girlfriend Oreos so she doesn’t eat your face off in a psychotic hormonal rage?
SMF: In that case…Double Stuff or Regular? How bout one of each?




ME: Where are you?!?!? I’ve been waiting at your place for 15 minutes!
SMF: Sorry. I needed TP for my bunghole. ;-)
ME: Oh SICK!!!! Jesus can HEAR you, ya know!!!
SMF: Yeah, He heard it the moment I thought it. So???
ME: Well, you already made Jesus cry! Why subject ME to your sick and twisted mind too?!?!?!
SMF: Just making sure you still want to get married someday.




SMF: Babe, if we were married and I went to a whore house to get a striptease and a sensual massage, would that be cheating?
ME: ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ (That was me until you apparently went F-ING RETARDED!)
SMF: Seriously, is that cheating? (Holy crap! She’s massaging him with her bare boobs!!!)
ME: babe, it’s 3AM…are you serious?
SMF: Yeah! Is THAT part of marriage?? Cuz if yes, get yer ass up! We’re going to Vegas!
ME: No. That’s cheating. What the hell are you doing over there anyway?
SMF: Watching a documentary.
ME: Babe, for the LAST TIME…pornography = NOT documentary!!!
SMF: It’s HBO! Of COURSE it’s a documentary!
ME: Phone = Off! Bye!




ME: It’s possible that I could be sitting here listening to Britney Spears’ “(You Drive Me) Crazy”….willingly….and liking it.
SMF: And it’s possible that I could be sitting here getting a lap dance from a big tittied blonde….willingly….and liking it.
ME: HEY! Only ONE of those activities would result in you being single!
SMF: You sure about that????




SMF: How’s the paper coming? You still awake?
ME: please kill me.
SMF: You CLOSE to being done?
ME: I think I’m closer to my 30th birthday.
SMF: Okay, well I’m going to support you in my sleep. Try and finish soon, okay?
ME: wimp.




ME: Hey babe, what does ‘tig ol’ bitties’ mean?
SMF: HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!
ME: What?!?!?! Just tell me.
SMF: It’s rappers switching letters around so they can say ‘big ol’ titties’ on the radio.
ME: SHUT UP!!! Really???
SMF: HAHAHAHAHA!!! Why do you think I got so upset when that guy at the bar told you you had nice TIGS?
ME: I don’t know!!! I thought he said ‘eyes’. It was loud in there and I thought you were being your testosterone poisoned self!
SMF: HAHAHAHA!!!! What rock do you LIVE under anyway?
ME: The ‘White Suburbanite’ one apparently!
SMF: You are no longer allowed to listen to rap unsupervised.




ME: Yer butt looks hot when you do that. ;-)
SMF: HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!! You wouldn’t be saying that if you were actually here.
ME: ??????
SMF: I’m taking a dump.
ME: EWWWWWWWWWWW!!!! My mental eyeballs are scarred for life!!!! Sick.




SMF: Whatcha up to Dingle?
ME: Shoppin’ with Da Gurls!
SMF: My apologies to the mall employees!
ME: Hush yer face! We’re having some lunch to recharge our batteries for bra shopping.
SMF: HOLD UP! How come when you and I go shopping you only ever need to buy tampons or Q-tips?
ME: I don’t know. You’ve never mentioned wanting to go underwear shopping.
SMF: Babe. You have boobs. Boobs need bras. I like boobs. I particularly like YOUR boobs…in bras. I’m not seeing how you don’t get this.




SMF: WHAT THE HELL IS THIS AND WHY IS IT IN MY MEDICINE CABINET?!?!?!?!?
ME: Okay, babe, one more time…typically you text message because you and I are not in the same location and you want to communicate with me. In other words…I CAN’T SEE WHAT YER LOOKING AT!!!!
SMF: This thing…it’s brown, with a metal end…in a Vshape….it’s just plain scary. What is it??
ME: Just send me a pic.
SMF:



SMF: If it goes anywhere near any of my favorite Girl Parts please don’t tell me. I’ll put it in the drawer and pretend I never found it!
ME: HAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! That’s a cuticle trimmer. Totally harmless. Except it’s sharp…be careful.
SMF: I’ve established that. OW!
ME: *sigh* Before we have kids I’m having yer swimmers IQ tested.
SMF: Hey now, little Miss "What Does Fo Shizzle My Nizzle Mean"!!!!


Do ya'll see why we're going to need SERIOUS pre-marital counseling?!?!?!? And flexible phone plans??? And alcohol??? Lots of alcohol.


(I know I sort of opened a can of worms with my last post. I'm still working through all the worms. When I get somewhere, I'll update you. *sigh* This is why my therapist's 9 kids will ALL go to Ivy League schools....)

I had a dream last night. It's a dream I have had ever since I was a little girl. I haven't had the dream since I started college 2 years ago....until last night.



It starts off with me in a building. I know this building REALLY REALLY well. I'm comfortable there. Its ceilings are low, like a school building's, with harsh overhead lighting. Each room is small and confining like a class room, but this isn't my school and it is not any school I have ever attended. Really, it's not a school at all. I seem to live there.



Each room has a different theme. One of the rooms is dark and spooky and I hear strange things coming from behind its doors. My heart starts racing the moment I see the door. I avoid that room at all costs. There are other rooms that don't evoke any feelings or thoughts, they are just there.....they're rooms. Then there's the room I apparently live in. This room is beautiful--well-lit, lots of pictures, comfortable couches and big fluffy chairs. My bed is huge and the crystalline white, down comforter almost swallows me whole. I love this room! I see myself curled up in a chair reading a book and enjoying the sunshine pouring in from the window.



Eventually I notice the light has grown dim, I look up and see that the sunshine is still as bright as ever, it's the house that's gone dim. Suddenly there are the sounds of voices, loud angry voices and I start to hear walls cracking and plaster dust falls on the pages of my book. I run out of my room to see the whole right side of the house is gone--it's a big gaping hole leading to the world outside. Rainclouds are forming in the distance and low thunder is rumbling overhead. I look to my left and see all of the doors and windows firmly shut and locked. But through those windows and doors there is sunshine and life, and people! Happy people. I want nothing more than to be with those people. Deep in my heart, I know that if I can get to those happy people, I myself would be happy too.



I start making my way to the first door. Suddenly I hear the low rumbling sound again. It's a bit different than the thunder. I look over my shoulder and see a tiger waiting to pounce. I don't scream. I don't react. I'm not afraid. I've known this tiger my whole life. It's lived in this house with me this whole time. It lived in the spooky room, but when the house broke apart it must have been freed...and now it has leveled its gaze at me. I take two steps backwards and grab for the first door. Now I'm running. I'm running down halls and through doors that lead to more halls. I'm jumping out windows that land me in more halls. The whole time I can hear the tiger gaining ground.



The tiger also seems to know shortcuts. It knows where I'm going to turn, which door I'm going to choose and which window to wait under. Every time I run into the tiger, she sinks her teeth into the first place she can grab onto. She doesn't kill me. She never wrestles me to the ground to deliver the killing blow, but I can see her tear the flesh from bones. I feel the muscles and tendons being ripped and pulled. Sometimes I pull away from her and run to safety, other times I sit down and let her gnaw--eventually she gets up, looks me in the eye, runs her pink tongue over her ivory teeth and turns to leave me alone. That's usually where it ends.



Last night the dream was a bit different. I was running as usual, but this time I seemed to know where the tiger would be waiting and which direction to turn to get closer to those happy people in the outside world. I found myself running faster, making better choices and keeping calm. I had an overwhelming sense of comfort the entire time. I was executing new moves and behaviors but they felt natural and comfortable. I could sense the tiger becoming confused and frustrated. Her roars of anger could be heard throughout the house.



Suddenly I reached the last door. I knew that on the other side of that door was my happiness. I could feel the tiger chasing me down. All I had to do was open the door. I just needed to OPEN THE DAMN DOOR!! Suddenly I felt a sharp pain in the back of my head. I whipped around and faced my attacker. The tiger had reached out with one of her paws and pulled off the back half of my scalp. I was appalled and shocked! "You've never done this before!" I screamed at her.



With my hand pressed into my torn, bloody head I grabbed the doorknob behind me and pushed open the door. I stumbled into the sunshine and fell on the ground. Immediately people started running towards me to see what was wrong with my head. They had almost reached me when they saw the tiger. She had walked out the door and was making her way towards me. Everyone froze in place and the tiger and I squared off. The whole time she was circling me, I didn't move. I stood there and let the blood run down my back. Finally she laid down in front of me and wouldn't make a move unless someone from the crowd began to take a step toward me. Then she would lift her head, tense her muscles and make a sound in the back of her throat that sounded like distant thunder.


That's where the dream ends. I didn't really think much about it until I was talking with SMF today. After hearing the despicable things my mother said to me during our most recent fight, all he said was, "Wow. Yeah, she's really a tiger isn't she?"

Yeah folks, she's a tiger. I get it now.

The One Where Cassie Tries Not to Get Hit On....AGAIN!

After doing a little research and talking with some friends, I have decided that this summer I want to be a live-in nanny. (Mrs. Chili....do the Chili chilluns need a big sister type? Do you need an extra set of hands??? I don't take up much space!!!!)

However despite the fact that I am hilariously funny, incredibly charming and rather cute, I have yet to track down a job. (Hey! Not to mention the fact that I have previous experience!) That being said, I decided to track down a job on the internet. I figured, since I found a Special Man Friend on the internet I would surely be able to find a job, right?

Wrong. Apparently there is little demand for one hilariously funny, incredibly charming and rather cute nanny with previous experience and impeccable references.

HOWEVER!!! amongst the sleazy pedophiles, nasty internet stalkers, and wannabe sex offenders, I am one hot commodity yo! My email is busting at the seams with messages from scalawags all across the country hoping to be the next Jude Law.

Since SMF staunchly refuses to pay me a weekly salary for being his girlfriend (something about not wanting to date a "call girl"...blah blah blah.) I guess it's back to the Find-A-Summer-Job drawing board for me!

PS:

So just a thought....

Right now I'm writing a VERY SERIOUS research paper. :-/ (That's my serious face) BUT!!!...

One of the researchers I am using as references has the last name of Titz! Am I immature b/c every time I make a parenthetical notation that says, "Pekar, Goetz, Titz, 1990" I hear it in my head as, "Pecker Gets Tits" and I giggle.....


Is that wrong?!?!?!? (Please tell me I'm normal.)




(Am I also immature b/c I was genuinely disappointed that I couldn't find a way to use the "Long, Cox" study and therefore had to cut it from my References list? C'MON!!! Long Cox and Pecker Gets Tits ALL IN THE SAME RESEARCH PAPER?!?!?!? Priceless.)

~~~~~~~~UPDATE!!!~~~~~~~~

Hello to all of Cass's faithful followers! This is everyone's favorite "SMF" by the way. (Don't tell her I'm here. Also, don't tell her that if she uses the SAME password for every account she has, I'm going to be able to get into anything. )

I have a bone to pick with little Miss Sass over there about her presentation of the conversation in the last post. I was only going to leave a comment but I'm not positive enough of you will see it and therefore continue to think of me as some barbaric, sex craved, ice cream eating meathead.

If she had been honest with herself, she would have posted the conversation as it REALLY happened....

Cute, but Occaisinally a Pain in the Ass Cass: What are you eating over there?!?!?!? You sound like a pig at a trough. Why do I even date you?!?!? I could do so much better. Blah, blah, blah.....

Me, The Ruggedly Handsome Man Candy: I'm so sorry to have offended you with the sound of ice cream leaving the spoon, my love! How could I have been so inconsiderate? I was just having a little bowl of sustenance seeing as there is no food in the house because I just recently paid the rent and now have to wait for this week's pay check. Please forgive me my dear but if I need to, I'd be happy to stand outside (in the rain) so as not to disturb your wonderful and lovely thoughts.

The Stunningly Gorgeous and Sometimes Conniving, Cassandra: No, no Man Servant. You may stay. Although that reminds me...I don't get what I want often enough from you! You spoil me and adore me and love nothing MORE than buying me gifts and giving me tokens of your love, however I still need more. When we're married the only way I'm going to get you to let me have my way (even more than you already do) is to dangle a bowl of the ONE thing you love more than ME in front of your face....ice cream.

Me, The Luckiest Man on the Planet for Scoring Such a Hot Girlfriend: Try sex first.....wth you covered in ice cream.



There.....I feel justified.

The One About Finals Week.....Another One

I almost forgot to ring in Bobby's favorite time of year!!! And since I cannot deny my all-time favorite blog-crush his happiness.....here it is:


Finals Week 2007!!!! Wooooo!!!! Show us your boobs!!!!!


Well, now that we have the blessed event firmly established I can move on, yes???

In honor of college students everywhere (and in honor of the fact that I REAAAAAAAALLY shouldn't be wasting my time screwing around on the internet) I'm going to post lists! (I know, you can hardly contain yourselves.)

You know you're a college student if.....

1) You feel it necessary to put every little thing you do in your away message. (Potty break!!!! BRB!)

2) When you say, "Next year" you mean "In the fall".

3) "What's your major?" is your default pick-up line.

4) You've written a check for a pack of gum.

5) Ramen Noodles are a food group and Domino's is on speed dial.

6) It no longer bothers you to shower with shoes on.

7) A baseball cap and chewing gum count as personal hygiene.

8) You've done laundry at 4 a.m because you were bored and couldn't think of anything better. (Bonus points if it was a Friday night!)

9) You've bought a book for $150 without batting an eyelash.

10) Fifteen weeks later you sell the same unused book back for $7.....without batting an eyelash.

11) Milk crate furniture is considered classy.

12) You're a Tater Tot Casserole connoisseur.
"Ah yes, a good orange block-cheese aroma. 1998 was a good year for Tots. Excellent vintage. Would go best with meatloaf."

13) You've fallen asleep in class......during an exam.....a verbal exam.

14) You can tell what time it is by the noise level in the hallway.
2 AM = enough noise to make dead people wear earplugs;
2 PM = just beginning to hear the sounds of people stirring.

15) "Getting up early" means getting up before noon.

16) Your outside information source is MTV news.

17) You don't need a stove because you have a microwave.

18) You know the exact closing time of all the drive thru windows, within a 10 mile radius.

19) Going "out to dinner" means going to one of those drive thrus.

20) All of your wordly possesions fit into one Honda Civic.....in one trip.

21) You're relieved when you find one pair of underwear in your drawer because
it means you have two more days until you need to do laundry!

22) 5 hours of sleep is considered a lot.

23) You've begged, borrowed and stolen 100 pennies to trade in at student accounting for four quarters.

24) Dance Dance Revolution and Guitar Hero are your workout routines.

25) You get pants-soilingly excited about getting mail.

If College Students Wrote the Bible

*The Last Supper would have been eaten the next morning--cold.
*The Ten Commandments would actually be only five--double-spaced and written in a large font.
*New edition would be published every two years in order to limit reselling.
*Forbidden fruit would have been eaten because it wasn't cafeteria food.
*Paul's letter to the Romans would become Paul's email to abuse@romans.gov.
*Reason Cain killed Abel: They were roommates.
*Reason why Moses and followers walked in the desert for 40 years: they didn't want to ask for directions and look like freshmen.
*Instead of God creating the world in six days and resting on the seventh, He would have put it off until the night before it was due and then pulled an all-nighter.

And because it's fun, an "SMF and Cassie Talk to Each Other" moment brought to you by the letter X--for HOLY CRAP THAT'S INAPPROPRIATE!
Cass: What are you eating????
Special Man Friend: Ice Cream
Cass: That's how I'm going to get what I want when we're married huh?
SMF: Try sex first.



So, there ya go! It is now time for me to go write some term papers and practice some presentations that are worth ghastly amounts points towards my final grade. Later Taters, I'm off like a herd o' turtles!