Tricia here. Hopefully Dina's blogposts will get better because that one kinda sucked...not that I'm complaining.
But speaking of complaining, that's kinda what this blog is all about. If you know me and you know Dina, then you know we LOVE to bitch about stuff. Sometimes all that bitching doesn't really fit in to our normal blog routine of bitching about our weight and how hungry we are though, so it doesn't find a home on our respective blogs. (Dina has a blog? What blog? Huh?) Well...except of the two entries so far, they're both about being fat, so...well, okay, starting now we'll bitch about other stuff, deal? DEAL, brother!
So sit back and kick up your shoes and get ready to read some bullshit.
OH AND SPEAKING OF SHOES...(this is yet another segue)...
One of the things I hate the most about living in a hot place in the summertime is that dudes think it's okay for them to wear flip-flips or sandals even though their feet look like they were carved from dried dog shit. The real dry kind! Like, after it turns white, kinda...you know what I mean.
In general, I don't prefer seeing anyone's feet when I'm out and about doing my daily business things, but at least most women try to give a shit. Guys will put a fucking flip-flop on the most disgusting foot known to man, then have the nerve to get pissed off when a stray dog confuses it for a brick of hamburger meat. It's not the dog's fault! Put a pumice on that freaking dead sea scroll you call the sole of your foot and behold the magic of skin that hasn't seen more cracks than a plumber's convention. It's not that hard! Even a fattie like me can make an effort and I can barely even reach those damn things!
I remember being in middle school and me and some friends made up these lists of what we would require in our ideal guys. #2 on my list was that he had to have nice feet. NUMBER TWO!! That was right after #1 - Must have money. And then what happened? I fell in love with a poor man with the most terrible feet I've ever seen.
Jeff's feet are like comically bad. Hobbits look at Jeff's feet and point and laugh. His toenails are like these evil triangles that I really can't even describe, but if I had to try, the description would most consist of the words Fritos and Talons. They scare me, but I love him. So for the most part I don't care. BUT...he has NO shame when it comes to those things! If you wanna rip up the carpet in our own house, that's one thing....but to wear those stupid Birkenstocks out in public knowing your feet look like that, that's another thing entirely!
It's gotten to a point where getting him to put on shoes has become like a negotiation ritual in our relationship. "Okay, I'll clean the kitchen, but you have to wear sneakers when we go out with our friends on Tuesday." DEAL! It's not really fair, but it's a part of my life I've learned to accept.
So...what I'm saying is...either get a pedicure, or put on some goddamn real shoes.
Whew...okay...I feel better.
So what's your main complaint about summer? Don't come with that "NOTHING, I LOVE SUMMER!!!!!!!!!" crap either because everyone hates something and this blog is about TRUTH! Spill it.