Flutes, Not the Pan Kind

Hells to the yeah, Interwebz!  Just in case you didn’t hear already, my scans were cleaner than Lindsay Lohan’s crotch.  Which…makes it sound like they were filthy so that might not seem like the best analogy.  But let’s face it, I’m really not THAT clean myself.  Still, I’m pretty confident Lindsay’s crotch is cancer-free.  So I’m going to stand by that analogy.  And Lindsay’s crotch.

….and this post has already taken a turn for the terrifying.

So Deb sent me this graphic a while ago and I think it’s a pretty accurate depiction of how I feel today.

But then I personalized it.  Well I stuck my head on it.  (Is there a “that’s what he said” joke in there?)   Because I’m positively drunk with all the time and possibilities I have now.  You know, seeing as how I’m not expecting to drop from the face of the planet in the near future (pending any sudden impact with semi’s of course).  Anyway, here’s my head.  (TWHS.)

Yes, I’m positively drunk with possibility.  In fact, after a glass of champagne last night, I decreed that I would only drink from champagne flutes all day today.

Hot Chocolate (that froth is marshmallows, you pervs)

Which backfired quickly because I couldn’t actually drink the hot chocolate in a champagne flute.  It looked an awful lot like a chocotini…and it’s still too soon to think about chocotinis.  WAY too soon.  I’m not really looking to swallow vomit from a champagne flute.  Though I’m sure there is a market for that.

And lunch?  It took quite some time, but I managed to eat everything from a champagne flute as well.

Pistachios

Citrus Wedges

Turkey Soup

Can I share a little helpful hint with you, Interwebz?  Don’t microwave a champagne flute.  Also?  Maybe don’t put turkey soup in a champagne flute.  Especially if it has corn in it.  ‘Cause it’s just not pretty.  You’re welcome.

I’m a little nervous about the pizza I’m planning to order for dinner, but I’ll try and cram it in there anyway.  (Now there DEFINITELY was a “that’s what she said” joke in there!)

In other news, I think I pulled a hammy doing all these David Lee Roth kicks around the apartment and my arms are getting weary from all this fist pumping.  But all this happiness is tempered slightly with the loss of my dear cousin, Miss Patty Mouse.  She died yesterday morning.

So not to get all Disney circle of life on your asses, but I’ll be simultaneously toasting Miss Mouse and myself each and every time I raise my flute today.  And I’ll be toasting you.  But mostly I’ll wait on the Interwebz toasts until later this evening when I’m filling this flue with something bubbly.

Seriously though, I’m one lucky gal.  I’m healthy.  I have Rocco.  I’m part of a crazy beautiful family that never ceases to amaze me with their grace and ability to find joy in times of sadness.  AND I’ve got you, Interwebz – you bunch of crazy, taco-loving, vagina-joke-laughing, supportive-tweet-sending, clean-scan-dancing, pony-humping-freakazoids that make me smile each and every day.  Thanks, bitches.  I love you like Charlie Sheen loves coke.

Indulge me while Patty Mouse (wearing red as fiery as her personality, accompanied by Mom and Aunt Ga Ga) sing us out…


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43 thoughts on “Flutes, Not the Pan Kind

  1. Fate is a giant asshole sometimes. It hands you the best gift ever – something truly worth celebrating hard, then takes away some of the lustre by handing you a big old sadness at the same time. Sorry to hear about cousin Patty. 🙁

    But stoked to hear about the cleaness. The scans not LL’s vag. There are probably entire families of hobos living in there! So yay for champagne flute celebrations! Congrats!

    1. Sing something raunchy with Hamish for her – she’d love that. She made me look like a pristine totem of purity.

      I’ll be toasting your birthday tonight, too. Even if you eat pie. Heh. Pie.

  2. I’m not going to ask how you know about the cleanliness (or lack thereof) of LL’s lady bits. Suffice it to say that I celebrate your non-cancerousness, I shall raise a glass in your general direction (I should think you appreciate me not fulfilling original quote, thankyouverymuch) when I am where there is a bottle and a glass.

    Congrats.

  3. All I can say is I’m very sorry about Patty mouse, I’m ecstatic you’ll be around forever (I said forever damn it!) and you are rockin’ those assless David Lee Roth pants!

    Love you! Love you! Love you!

  4. So very sorry to hear about cousin Patty 🙁 Sad news sucks the funny right out of me. I’ll be thinking of you all day and maybe even playing a little tune on my kick ass kazoo in honor of her.

    But I am also, OVER THE FUCKING MOON one of THE MOST AMAZING people I know is cancer free!!!! Way to kick cancer in the taco!!!! This little ditty sums up what I think cancer really needs. http://bit.ly/fnm7CD

  5. I, too, will be cheering your sweet news, along with your aunt. just three hours behind you. Perhaps I’ll even try a DLR type kick… on second thought, I like my hips intact.

  6. Technically, the problem with your champagne flute experiences is that you are not adding champagne to these things. Champagne and cookies. Champagne and turkey soup.

    Congratulations Ells 🙂

  7. God damnit! I tuned in for a celebration, but left all teary eyed. Ain’t that just like life. Laughing through the tears.

    Here’s a big wet Herpes free smooch

    Welcome home girl. Us Interwebz were holding our breath for you.

    Blessings and Peace Miss Patty Mouse.

  8. Can I WOOT any louder for you? What relief! You are my hero! From now on, I won’t open a can of whoop-ass, I’ll open a can of Elly. But that sounds gross. I’ll open a can of LL’s vag. No, that’s not right either. I don’t know what I’ll open, but it will be AWESOME. 🙂 Cheers!

    1. What if Tom G. switches out the can of Elly for a can of man boxers? Also are there air holes in this can scenario? You know I’m not a dainty girl, right? That’s gonna be one sizable can.

  9. Now I feel better about having peanuts out of my coffee mug yesterday. But not as much as hearing you got the all clear.

    I feel inclined to caution you about getting too familiar with Lindsay’s crotch. That’s a whole ‘nother world of health risks right there.

  10. Yay!! On the cleaner than LiLo’s crotch scans! (You’re right, that doesn’t sound quite good enough.)

    And my condolences on the loss of your cousin. 🙁

    (My apologies if I’m a day late and a dollar short with the wishes here,,, I’m rather Twitter-challenged.)

  11. Aw, girl. I’m all at sixes and sevens…happy about the cancerlessness, grossed out by the turkey (urp) soup in the glass, and terribly sad for your loss and moved by all the nekkid fist pumps.

    I’m gonna just go with the nice, grounding thought of NPH and unicorns.

  12. I am so very sorry for your loss. {{{hugs}}}

    Now… on with the champagne flute. I think you may have come up with the next biggest diet idea ever: You can only eat what you can fit inside a champagne flute! So there goes the big chuck of pork chops! Unless you grind it up. Ok. I guess it is not such a dieting idea after all…

  13. I kept getting all these crazy ass images of you suited up in that body hugging metallic armor with the chain mail you put on for fun sometimes and riding that bad mammajamma horse with the wings right over cancers sorry ass.
    Why I imagine you in medieval gear is beyond me but I wish my mind could put it on film for you to see. There’s fire in the backround and surround sound and EVERYTHING.
    I’m sorry about Patty but I’m so incredibly happy for you that I’m going to start drinking early every single day this week.

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