پاکستان میں Mostbet com ویب سائٹ ملاحظہ کریں، اور آپ یقینی طور پر کھیلوں پر شرط لگانے یا آن لائن کیسینو میں کھیلنے کے لیے یہاں واپس آنا چاہیں گے۔ کھیلوں کے شائقین کو ایونٹس کے ایک بڑے انتخاب، مختلف پروموشنز اور بونسز، مفت بیٹس، مفت گھماؤ اور زیادہ مشکلات تک رسائی حاصل ہے۔ اور کھیل کو مزید آسان بنانے کے لیے، ہم نے ایک موبائل ایپلیکیشن تیار کی ہے جسے آپ آسانی سے اپنے فون پر انسٹال کر سکتے ہیں۔

Tips for Tuesday..on Wednesday, because Tuesday couldn’t handle tampons.

Today, I want to discuss something that no one wants to address…why my cat keeps peeing under the damn pool table- son of a bitch! Just kidding (though it does need to be addressed), I actually want to talk about “Tampon Maintenance”. I hope you weren’t eating just now.

As you may know, tampons have been linked to Toxic Shock Syndrome. While rare, the chances of developing TSS increases when using higher absorbancy tampons and when leaving them in for far too long. Now I don’t know about you, but I use the high absorbency ones because…well, because like the wrapper says, I’m “Super”…and sometimes I’m even “Super Plus”. So for me, remembering to change my tampons frequently is very, very important. Not to mention, no one wants a red stain as a reminder.

So now you’re probably thinking “Yeah, great point, Kim. How can I easily keep track of my tampon change? And I love what you’ve done with your hair!” Aww, thanks!

The first thing you need to do is to make some scientific calculations based on your flow rate, tampon absorbency, and menstrual duration ( F/A x M x .75= R), where R equals the replacement interval. Based on this formula, I determined that my tampon should be changed every 4 hours.

Here’s the problem…ask anyone who knows me, I’m late for everything except happy hour (I was even late for my own wedding. Brian, I said sorry like a billion times). So I’ve developed two “reminder” methods that can be used separately or together for maximum remindage.

 

Method #1 – Put it in your calendar and set the alarm to play the Jaws theme- it conjures images of blood (trust me, it’s motivating).

Unfortunately, I kept hitting the snooze button, so I had to develop a back-up method. But what?

As I was pulling out of my driveway one day, I saw the answer right in front of me, literally in front of me- the oil change sticker on my windshield. And method #2 was born…

Method #2– The TEA Bag Tag

The acronym TEA stands for Tampon Expiration Alert. This involves labeling all of your tampons with their change time. Each time you go to the bathroom, simply glance at the time on your TEA tag to determine if you need to change it out! Let me show you how to set this up.

 

1. You’ll need a tampon (duh), a sharpie (won’t smear), a stapler, and a small piece of paper.

 

2. Label a small rectangular piece of the paper with the tampon’s expiration time, then fold it horizontally.

 

3. Put the tampon string inside the crease and staple the paper to the string…like a tea bag!

 

4. Tuck the tag inside the tube so it doesn’t get hung up during insertion.

 

5. Replace back in it’s wrapper and voila!, you’ll always know the answer to the question “Shoot, when should I change my tampon?”

*If you’re keeping more than 1 tampon in your purse, I recommend writing the times on the wrappers so you’ll know in which order to use them.

*Paper may chafe.

*No fact checking was done in the development of this tip.

*Staples may snag pubic hair.

Florida – wine, cigars, & doggie style

 

Today, I’m sharing my Florida vacation (days 1 & 2) through photographs. And if you didn’t read about our flight, you can check it out here (if you care or you’re extremely bored).

_______________

 

Brian was scheduled to be in meetings all of Wednesday afternoon and evening, so I drove out to Madeira Beach to meet up with my aunt, uncle, and cousin.

If you know me, you won’t be surprised to hear that I got lost. A trip that should have taken me 40 minutes at the most, took me almost 1.5 hrs, and that’s with the GPS. Honestly, when it comes to highways, exits, routes, signs, ugh, forget it! I need directions like “Hang a right at the Target. Follow that road until you get to the store where you bought those cute little headbands, then make another right. When you come to your third liquor store – the one that offers free tastings every Friday, veer to the left. It’ll be on the right, next to the house with the ugly pink shutters.”

So when my directions said “Exit in 1.5 miles, toward Boward County/Steel Rd (Rt. 76N)”, I naturally ended up in a strip club parking lot…

 

We’re not in Kansas anymore, boobies.

 

When I finally arrived, we headed out to a little French restaurant.

The Gulf Bistro

As the “guest of honor”, my family asked me to choose the wine for our table. Oh jeez, the pressure- I know jack-shit about French wine.

 

Me to the owner: What wine would you recommend?

French Owner: Well, what will you be having for dinner?

Me: I’m not sure yet.

French Owner: What kind of wine do you like?

Cousin Carla: Something foxy, yet unassuming.

French Owner: … ?

Me: What does that even mean? Isn’t that a contradiction?

Cousin Carla: I don’t know! I’m just trying to think of some adjectives.

Aunt Charline: Carla, let Kim do the ordering. She’s the expert, she writes wine reviews. (hahaha- bad cheapo wino reviews!)

French Owner: Oh really?!

 

– ok, so now the french lady is all impressed and thinks that I’m a wine aficionado. Then this happens…

 

French Owner: Well, what kind of wine do you like?

Me: I like chewy wines.

French Owner: …. ?

Because she looks confused, I assume there must be a language barrier- so I try this…

Me: You know, something chewy that you can really sink your teeth into (I start making chewing motions and grunting).

Me: But I want it to be smooth and soft like a child’s well-loved blankie

I say this while slowly rubbing my napkin up & down my cheek. Then, for emphasis, I close my eyes and smile softly, like I’m in a far off dream. When I open them, she has a disgusted look on her face.

Me: Red. I like red.

 

Later, I got myself caught in the fringe curtains that separate the dining room from the bathroom.

 

After dinner we headed to the Daiquiri Shak, where we drank and watched Cousin Carla’s very talented friend, Jeremy Thomas, perform.

[embedit snippet=”jeremy”]

 

Then we moved on to…dum dum duuum….El Loco Cigar & Wine Bar.

Don’t worry, we didn’t inhale.

We had a great time here! We talked about a smorgasbord of topics, including face lifts, cats, and the existence of God- sometimes all in the same sentence. We also met interesting folks, like the gentleman who sent us these cigars (I’d rather a Cabernet) and Doug of Doug’s Doggie Style grooming…

 

Doug’s Doggie Style Grooming….a business he can stand behind. Man, I crack me up!

Around 12:30 am we headed back to the condo to get some much needed sleep. Did I mention that I planned on staying the night? Yeah, I forgot to tell Brian that too.

 

The next morning we dropped Carla’s pirate hat off at her house….

Don’t you just hate it when you forget your pirate hat at your mother’s house?

 

Then we went shopping, where I scored a bracelet for…wait for it…c’mon guess….91 cents! Can you believe that shit!? It was an expensive store too! Clearance on top of clearance, baby!

 

And on our way out of town, I stopped in the middle of the road and snapped a picture this church…it looks just like a chicken! Do you see it?!

 

An egg-cellent church to attend!

My aunt calls it “Chicken Church”- where the congr-egg-ation flocks to worship. You may have seen this church recently, as I posted it on my blog’s Facebook page and it went viral. The national media picked up on it and the pic has been everywhere, from Yahoo news to the Huffington Post. Sadly, my little blog was not given any credit:( Instead, I’m referred to as “the photographer”, which I guess is kinda a compliment because my pictures are usually crap.

 

Later that night, Brian and I went to dinner where a lady peed on my foot. I’ll tell you about that later this week.

 

 

What the cluck?

The good news:

My picture of Chicken Church, that I snapped last Thursday and posted on my Facebook page, went viral and has been reported my national media news, including The Huffington Post and Yahoo. You can google “Florida & Chicken Church” and see for yourself.

The bad news:

They gave me zero credit as the original photographer!

I’m not going to lie, I’m “clucking” pissed! My little blog could definitely use a shout out!  Is it too much to ask them for a link back to the picture that gave them the story? I’m going to contact them and find out.

Meanwhile, flock to Chicken Church and become part of their egg-cellent congr-egg-ation!

Do you see the chicken?

Free Advice Friday- Farty McNarty

Hey guys! Brian & I are still in Florida with my funny family and we’re having a blast! Sadly, I’ve already managed to pee myself on several occasions, but I stopped at Walgreens today & bought a box of panty liners, so I think I’m good to “go”. <-- see the funny I made there? (Remember, potential thieves, my in-laws are staying at the house along with Mr. Bojangles) 20130307-214537.jpg

And I’m really sorry, but I haven’t had a chance to write because I’ve been so busy eating, drinking, laughing, and shaving my legs (hey, it’s not easy to undo something that took weeks to create).

I’ll get back to the good ol’ laptop on Monday. In the meantime, here’s an old Free Advice Friday that I hope you’ll enjoy!

____________________

Dear Kim,

I have been following your excellent advice and also understand you’ve added running to your repertoire of amazing abilities. I feel now is the perfect time to ask your opinion on how to handle a ‘noise’ that may sometimes squeak out from ‘behind the lower area’ when walking /running with others.

Thank you,
Slightly Embarrassed Susan

Dear Slightly,

I’m not sure I understand your nicey-nice talk. Are you trying to say that farts emanate from your ass while you run? If so, I can help.

Here’s my advice: Shit your pants.

You only have to shit your pants once, after that your friends will think nothing of a fart. Of course, they might be concerned that you’re going to shit your pants again, but if they make fun of you for that then they were never your friends to begin with. I’m a firm believer that laughing at someone for farting is funny but laughing at some one for shitting their pants is just plain cruel.

If you feel like this isn’t an option for you (ie. constipation, empty bowels, etc), I have a couple more alternatives.

1. Make it so people don’t want to run with you.

When I run I flail my arms and legs wildly. But don’t do it too wildly otherwise passersby will throw you to the ground and stick a belt in your mouth so you don’t bite off your tongue during your epileptic fit.

In addition to my running style, I take Mr. Bojangles with me (when he isn’t busy licking his own ass). We look something like this…

Mr. Bojangles, just before he pulled my jacket off.

I found that this is usually enough to put people off.

2. Muffle the sound

There are two ways of doing this. Your first choice is to make a “Wahoo!” yell as you’re farting. Now this is a little tricky because you need to be aware that you’re about to fart in order to pull this off successfully. I’m convinced that all those people in my spin class yelling “yeah, baby!” “wooo!” and “c’mon!” are all just letting one rip. That’s why I always look disgusted when I’m in there.

*Do not use this technique in meditative yoga.

The other way of doing this is an actual physical muffling. I’ve experimented with this and I find that cotton balls and a little duct tape work really well. And the duct tape actually keeps your ass from jiggling so you look tighter and firmer. An added bonus.

I hope I was able to help you, Slightly. Just stay away from the beans, nobody likes a bean fart.

Smell ya later!
Kim

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