In some regards, I consider myself a very lucky woman. I have terrific kids, the best sister on the planet, a wonderful yet insane family and, a husband who, if fails to make me happy is still a great, hard-working provider and a wonderful dad. More than many have, right?
And then comes my bloggy friends. Those men and women I’ve met over the past 14+ months here in blogland.
There are the weird ones, like C, Mariah, and the Holy Crappers, #1 and #2. There are the sweet and cuddly ones like Shelia, Picket, Gloria and BJ. There are the hysterically funny ones like Nikki and Robin and Pooba and Yaya. There are the ones that make you think, like Chuck, and the ones who open your world to things you’d not normally think about and in doing so break your heart… like Amelia and Lilly. The quirky, off-beat ones like Jason and Tami. The ones that take you on journeys to places near and far like Donna, Chris, and Xinex. The ones who make your life more colorful with their eye for gardening and design, like Tootsie and Gollum and Artie. And the ones who can cause you to be completely bloggerwhelmed because they tend to post 348 times per week, like Stacy.
I could go on and on because I know I’ve left out so many of the blogger buds I’ve come to love and care about.
Like my idiot sister Jill. But I can’t list everyone… there are too many. And do you realize how long it’s going to take me to link all these blogs as it is?
But what the hell am I going on about? This isn’t a sentimental post about those whom I find near and dear to my heart. This is about the coach, the crab and the sperm!
Apparently I need to bitch slap myself back to the reality that is an actual quirky-dirky post.
Anyhoodle, several months ago, for reasons unknown to me, Nikki asked for my address. I gave it to her, I guess in hopes that she’d send Crumpet my way, ya know, give Strudel a reason to mature her ass- and nipple-biting self. (more on that at another time). Nikki, however, had something else in mind.
See, she had done this funny I Wish Wednesday post and she featured these adorable plush toys.
Well, I just got totally excited when I saw these cute little fluffies and left Nikki this message…
Ah, I really miss basements!
OMG, i so want that sperm plush toy!!! I want it I want it I want it!!!!!!
Justine :o )
So she bought me one and had it mailed to me! If only someone could have been there to record my face when I opened the box to find a stuffed sperm with a bow on his head, looking up at me. I think I had a perpetual smile on my face that day.
Unfortunately, I put him up on the kitchen counter, forgetting that my nosy children were going to pick him up and read his tag. It was easy to explain to Mikayla, but afterwards I had to put up with her questions: “Why would your friend send you a stuffed sperm? What are you supposed to do with a stuffed sperm? Sleep with it?” Not even gonna go there!
Madison? I told her it was a pollywog. She believed me too.
Blogger buds? Meet Seamour Sperm.
Now tell me that’s not an adorable face. Wait, do sperm actually have a face? Maybe not, but this one has eyes!
A friend of mine suggested that because of my current situation I should have named him SeaNo Sperm. Sorry Becky, the name sticks. Ew, that could have a double meaning, couldn’t it? Oh yeah, I went there!
And this concludes the sperm portion of our post. Now on to “The Coach”.
A few weeks ago, my friend Cole, over at All The Small Stuff had this really awesome giveaway. This was the second of her giveaways that I entered and the second I won! First time around I won a year subscription to The Bark magazine. It’s now a regular fixture in my powder room.
But this time I won this adorable pale pink Coach wristlet. Go Cole! You da woman! Go Cole! I wanna be your biatchhhhh! Now let me confess something. I have never even touched a Coach bag, let alone walked into a Coach store, so even this little bitty bag put me in a bit of a tizzy.
Look at how damn cute it is!
But wait. What’s that? There, connected to the strap? Holy smokes, it’s a price tag!
That’s right, ding-dong Cole actually forgot to remove the tag before mailing it, but hey, even at that deeply discounted price I now know that Cole is not a tightwad and, apparently enjoys spending copious amounts of cash on people she’s never met. Hey, more power to ya honey, as long as the stuff is coming my way!
When I emailed Cole my thank you and a giggle about knowing how much she paid, she sent me a return email with a *blush* and some embarrassment, knowing I’d point out her faux pas on my blog. How could I resist?
And that concludes “The Coach” portion of this post.
Now we have The Crab.
When I opened the package from Cole, not only was there a cute card and my adorable Coach wristlet in there, but also a toy for Strudel! Cole and her pups sent Strudel a squeaky crab! Oh, how cute! Look!
***Disclaimer: Excuse the dented and uncovered garbage pail. Was just about to empty it.
Lying. And that stupid step stool that the kids keep bringing into the kitchen. And the numerous dog toys on the floor. And the leash. And the dirty floor.***
So now you understand the title of this post, eh? The Coach, The Crab, and The Spermatozoa.
Now am I not a lucky girl? Who wouldn’t want a stuffed sperm to call her own? Who would be so stupid to not love a little Coach bag? And the crab? I think I hear Strudel ripping him apart right now. Ah, it’ll be fun while it lasts!
Go visit Jill, yada yada yada. Love me, love her, yada yada yada.