they want some biscuits

Warning!! If you are over the age of 60 you may find this very offensive.

Since when did people establish that elderly people were the people to respect? Is it because they are so packed with information on life? They ARE packed with information, but none that is of any use to us. Sure, if I need to figure out how to defeather a chicken or properly clean some dentures I'll be sure to call an elderly person. They way I look at it they should respect us young adults. We are the ones that know how to send e-mails and leave voice mails. The other day my grandma called my cell phone and I missed her call. My voice mail rang and it was my grandma pushing buttons and saying, "What did that lady say?"

Now I'm not going to lie, old people are fun. It's not like I don't like them. They are very amusing. About a month ago we were having a family dinner and my grandma came to join us. We were all complimenting my brother on a concert he conducted. My grandma then says, "Those kids in you choir are ugly." That was pretty amusing to me.

Here is my favorite quote from my grandma: "If I could I would, but I can't."
Do you really want to know what she was talking about? SEX!! She's 92!
I like old people because they make me laugh.

Have you ever stuffed your face with fast food until you thought you were going to burst and blow chunks everywhere? Then ate more? I have.

The other day I saw a guy driving down the street with a parrot on his shoulder. A real one. That's HILARIOUS! True story.

Whenever I exit the bathroom I can expect some family member to scream at me, "Wash your hands!" I refuse. I don't feel it is necessary. More people should not wash their hands. Fuck all the scientific studies. Most of those "studies" are made up in order to sell tons of soap. Don't people know that when you turn on the water with your dirty hands those germs linger on the handle? And then when you finish washing your hands you touch the dirty handle and those germs are right back where they started from. ON YOUR HANDS! Think about when you are using a public bathroom and you go to wash your hands. A person could have just changed their baby's diaper and went to wash their hands at the same sink you are about to. Guess what's on the handle? Baby poop. So, you lather your hands up really good and just when you think they're squeaky clean, you stick them in baby poop to turn the water off. Here is my secret, just take a shower every once in a while and your hands will get washed automatically. Otherwise, there is no need to wash them.

I have a very serious question to ask everybody. But first, I would like to explain that it isn't easy being me. I sleep in the basement of my house. In order to get some breakfast when I wake up at 4 pm, I have to climb thirteen stairs. Thirteen! Sometimes, I only make it to twelve and I have to whine for my mom to hand me some cheese crackers and Mountain Dew for breakfast. Let it be known that the computer is also upstairs among my assorted breakfast crackers. I can't always get to it. OK!?

Here is my question: How do you scratch your butt?
I prefer to scratch my butt under the pants but over the underpants. Butts itch, don't deny it. How do you scratch it?

I haven’t writing in a while again. I would bust out some excuses, but I think I have used all of my good ones. I haven’t even read my blog in a long time. (I like to read my blog over and over again and giggle about how funny I think I am.) Although, I do have to say, I am a very important person. I am super busy with the sleeping and the watching of the TV...

After 10 minutes of staring at the screen, straining my brain to think of something
funny to write...

And… that’s all I got. I don’t even have any good stories about poop. How lame is that? Now you see why I haven’t writing in a while. I got nothing. Maybe I’ll poop in the back yard and see if my dog, Abby, eats it. I’ll let ya know how that turns out.

The other day I was at the mall and I saw a woman shopping for shoes. So obviously, minding my own business, I looked the other way. Until I saw something out of the corner of my eye. The women was holding a hot pink leash attached to something. From around the corner emerged a child. A child? Yes, a child. Who knows how that leash was attached to that kid. It was probably clipped to a leather spiked collar around the child’s neck. Why do people do that to there kids? What is the difference between holding the end of a leash oppose to you kids fucking hand? Hey, next time clip the leash to the kids tongue and drag him/her around the mall that way. Or here, just do this, get a fucking dog!

I’m in the stage of my life when I really need to decide on what I want to do for the rest of my life. I guess its called a career or something. I have given it A LOT of thought and I have finally found out my true calling. I’m going to be a Super Hero. Now, I don’t have any super powers yet, but I was thinking maybe I could learn some witch craft or something. I’m going to call myself The Kickass Bitchass Puncher Chick. Basically, I’m going to go around and punch people. But only people who are doing bad things. Like, if some jerk steps on a caterpiller, I will punch him or her. I’m going to bust out the punch of death. Never before seen. I’ve secretly been working on it. You are not allowed to hit me back, though. You can’t hit a super hero, are you insane?