M

Oh M. Stop causing your momma first time mommy stress. Stay on the boob.

HO HO HO

Happy holidays from the Good Joo household to all

BABY!

Baby French Bitch is here. Born at 1:50pm. 6lbs 15oz. Congrats to Bad Joo and her family.

Oh Deer

GJ found something similar to this on Etsy and decided that there was no way in hell she was going to pay $375 for a deer made out of resin when she could just make it out of shit. Plus, GJ has no idea what resin is or how to do anything with it. GJ's husband is notorious for his inability to put out the recycling bins. They sit in the garage of GJ for months at a time until there is no more room to park cars. Last week at around 8pm GJ's hubby opened the garage door alarmed at the burglary type noises coming from within. He was concerned to find his charming (as always) wife digging through the recycling bin, talking to herself, and morphing a strange animal type head out of garbage. And here is the result. And you know it's hanging in GJ's living room. And you know you want one (unless you are SL.)

Going Gonny Rogue

It has been established in the past that Gonny, formally known as Gonna is a pest. Once upon a time she was a fat, happy, in door cat. Then GJ adopted her and all hell broke lose. Every rodent in Indiana has had a play date with Gonny and they have all ended poorly. Now by poorly you might think that GJ means "with death." Of course this is the case, but what "poorly" does not include is the 30 minute post mortem regurgitation of the rodent. Not enough time for the creature to have been digested, but just enough time for it to have been stretched into a long tube and displayed on GJ's front porch with A LOT of blood. Gonny's mad hunting skills are of grand delight to a certain 4 year old. "How long is it? How long is it?"

Death to Smoochy

Ahhhh today. Today was the first day of GJ's workout with her personal trainer. Now GJ has been a "worker outer" for many years and is no pussy when it comes to making herself sweat. Really. GJ works out hard and if it wasn't for that damn Mountain Dew and eating random shit in the middle of the night she would probably weigh 34 lbs like all of her friends. In an effort to step it up even another notch, GJ decided to go with E who is one of her fitness instructors at the Y. E runs a gym out of her home called the E Gym, which is a very, very, very crafty name. Upon arrival GJ was weighed, measured and then brought down into what we will now refer to as the "DEPTHS OF HELL". And what followed was basically E's boot camp class from the Y, but oh...say...5000000000000 times worse. OMG. Death. GJ died. Approximately 45 minutes into this little workout GJ began to see black spots. Yes. Like "hi I'm going to pass out."

GJ: I think I'm going to throw up
E: No you aren't
GJ: Yes I am
E: No you are not
GJ: Yes
E: No
GJ: Where can I throw up? Wait, wait...my head might explode. I think my heart rate is 450.
E: I'll get you some juice
GJ: No. I don't want juice
E: I'll get you some
GJ: NO. I need to throw up (said in a very whiny voice)
E: Then throw up in the garbage (clearly not believing GJ)
GJ: I want to throw up in the toilet
E: No
GJ: Then I will throw up on your face
E: No. You are not going to throw up
GJ: Throwing up like a drunken frat boy in garbage can
E: I can't believe you threw up
GJ: Still throwing up AND shitting her pants
E: You didn't look like you were struggling
GJ: Still throwing up and thinking...the 70lbs of sweat on your floor and in my clothes and the fact that my face is the color of a beet did not indicate to you that I might be struggling????? How about the comment "I CANNOT DO ONE MORE LUNGE. I CANNOT. I WILL DIE. I'M DEAD..."