Tuesday, December 22, 2015

Queen Of The Quiffs

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When I was 14, I was crowned Queen of the Quiffs! In light of the Steve Harvey / Miss Universe Pageant fiasco last night, I hope this true and mortifying story helps those ladies feel better! This story will be included in my upcoming Comedy Memoir Book called My Eyes Are Bigger Than My Vagina. Enjoy and please feel free to share your embarrassing stories with me! 

***Warning, this is a Very Graphic post!  If you are sensitive to 'The Sex' stuff, then you shouldn't read any more of this***


Friday, November 02, 2012

Totally Random!

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Today I went into a rage spiral! While I was reading the paper,  I saw a link to a website and tried to click on it...it took me a while to figure out why the page wouldn't load.

Later on, I went shopping and I bought a brand of laundry detergent for the sole reason that it had a Chuck Norris seal of approval on it....I mean that's gotta be some tough assed detergent right? I will be selling ring side tickets to 'Laundry UFC', so you all can see this soap roundhouse kick my laundry in face :)

~I surrender to The Writing Womb~

Monday, October 03, 2011

The One Where I Procrastinate

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Today is the first day of my life...or maybe it's the first day towards my demise, who's to say? I am embarking on a new career, in a new city and I have no idea what the fuck I was thinking!

Last month, I finally made the decision to uproot myself from my comfortable, safe, boring little life and move to Vancouver to start my comedy career. A bold career move at 33!

Yesterday, I finally moved into my new ' $900 shared accommodations; listen to your roommates hair growing in her sleep because the walls are so paper fucking thin that if you touched them, they would crinkle', luxury apartment!

This morning, I sit in my new room, surrounded by 4 'walls' of tissue paper, a mountain of unpacked boxes and an audience of voices in my head that say 'what a Fucktard! You actually think you are funny enough to make it? You will be eating jam from a homeless guys toes in a month and you won't even be able to afford the bread to spread it on!'

Right now, all I want to do is figure out how can I get away with using a vibrator without the new roommate hearing it! For $900 a month, I should be allowed to masturbate all over the apartment, using a diesel powered meat curtain machine that would overshadow the sounds of most chainsaws, without anyone even blinking an eye!

Hmm what would MacGyver do? Maybe a pair of almost dead batteries will do the trick? Or one fresh one and one dead one = not so many vibrate-y sounds?

I'm not horny, I just need to take my mind off of all I have to do...um so I guess you could call it Procrastination Masturbation. That way at least I can feel like I have accomplished something today. But alas, these walls won't allow me to get the Job done!

Unpacking has never been my forte, but neither has anything else in life...good thing I am so optimistic about this fictional career!

After reading this blog post, all I can think is 'holy shitballs, what have I done?'
Over and out
~I surrender to The Writing Womb~

Friday, March 11, 2011

I'm back with some Style!

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So even though I haven't blogged in about 5 months, some awesome person has given me an incentive to write again as I was emailed that I am now the proud owner of some fucking award that means absolutely nothing to me but still made me feel good to receive it because that is just how shallow I truly am! 

Yet I do feel entitled to it because I am totally stylish with my potty mouth and excessive abuse of swear words. Making words like 'Shmegma, Quiff and Beastiality' sound stylish, sure is hard work and therefore I accept this award! So thanks to you 'Clocks Declaring ' for honouring me with the 'Stylish Blogger Award' and for getting me back on the horse ( this is my segue to the last paragraph of this blog post, just so you know that this post does in fact have continuity in a graceless sort of way...that's right, I am all about Style now people, you may hold your applause until after the break). 

Also to all of you who bitched and whined for me to come back, all 2 of you...here it is...the post you have all been waiting for...trust me, this post is like Jar Jar Binks in the Phantom Menace...irritating, pointless and utterly uncreative.

Life in my end of the world is really really good...and when things are really really good, I don't feel like writing...must be that tortured artist mentality either that or the comedy writing team that took up residence in my brain is still on lunch 5 months later...and I forgot to fire them and hire new ones...man, where do I find a sweet job like that?

So trying to write when I am happy and satiated is like trying to give birth when you aren't even pregnant...nothing can be created except maybe a quiff or two...and PUSH! One more, come on, push that blog post out! Ah congratulations, it's a pussy fart with all 10 fingers and toes!

Mostly, my "happy writing" looks like I ate a bunch of Skittles and washed them down with purple Koolaide and then regurgitated it all over the page...sure it's colourful but there isn't much substance to it. 

Hey so remember way way back at the beginning of this post I spoke about a horse??? Well, I will leave you with this deep thought I just had about them...

'Fuck you and the horse you rode in on' is quite a saying!!
I often wonder what it really means…like if you say that to someone, does that mean you want to fuck a horse?
Or does it me you would like to have a threesome with the horse and its rider?
Or is it a really obvious way to indicate to other people that you have in fact forgotten to take your Meds because most people generally don’t ride horses around town anymore unless they are rich or possibly a part time Rodeo clown...and if you are in fact off your Meds and seeing Rodeo Clowns you should probably call 911...but I digress..

Whenever I hear someone say 'fuck you and the horse you rode in on' I think of how it surely must have originated...some cowboy with road rage is behind another cowboy who is being a dick by riding slow and not letting Ol' John Boy pass...as they both finally arrive at the saloon the second cowboy tilts his hat and says 'howdy partner' with a smug look on his face that says he knew what a dick he was being and then the Ol' John Boy just loses it and is all like 'I challenge you to a duel Pilgrim' and in some kind of word miracle the other cowboy pulls that amazing one liner from thin air....The first cowboy ever in the history of the world, to use that line!
I like to believe that Ol' John Boy just tilted his hat and said touche and then they all slapped their knees, bought each other a beer while firing their guns in the air and pissing in their pants because of the hilarity of that quick witted comeback ….but we all know the inevitable outcome of saying something like that back then was the second cowboy getting shot in the face...cowboys were killed for much much less back then.

I guess upgrading that saying isn't really as much fun, as 'Fuck you and the porshe you rode in on'... it doesn't have the same ring to it....because fucking a horse is really quite taboo, even in this day and age ...it's not yet something you can casually bring up at Thanksgiving Dinner...at least in most Countries. Although 'fuck you and the Retard you rode in on' could be even more offensive because nobody ever admits to fucking a retard or a horse :o)
Plus that just screams classy all over it doesn't it?

So, until next time everyone, fuck you and the Horse and/or Retard you rode in on :o)
Thanks for reading
Love Patricia

~I surrender to The Writing Womb~


Thursday, October 28, 2010

Failure Smells A Lot Like Schmegma With A Dollop Of Warm Apple Sauce!

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Poop, double decker, camel-toe-jam, kerfluffenheimer, fromunder cheese, schmegma, dollop, hand-me-downs, apple sauce, penis...

I tried really hard to come up with something interesting to write for you all but those are the only words that came to mind. I think I might have popped a large hole in my brain from how hard I tried...can you smell it? Smells a lot like failure and disappointment to me...ah the sweet aroma of failure how I have missed you so! Doesn't it smell good?

So, my gift to all you dear readers is that I will not try to continue this butchery of a post. So for the safety of your brains, enjoy the cartoons I just made :o)

Because poop has feelings too...and when it smiles at me I should really learn to smile back at it :o)

I use the word Kerfluffenheimer a lot! Most people want to know what it means and the truth is, Kerfluffenheimer means whatever you want it to mean...today it doubles as a really bad swear word or a really dirty old fart you have held in for much too long cause you are trying to be polite. But tomorrow, Kerfluffenheimer could mean something very different.

I always thought that Toe Jam sounded pretty yummy....but camel toe jam? Could be a new trend!

Sometimes I feel that the word penis is the real plural for pen :o)

~I surrender to The Writing Womb~

Saturday, October 23, 2010

Holy Craparoni! A Butterfly Raped My Finger!

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Hey bloggy friends! I am sorry for being such a slacker in my postings here at The Writing Womb but cut me some cheese errr...I mean slack.

The weather is amazing here in Thailand and considering the monsoon season has just been unexpectedly put on pause for the last week or so, I have been taking some time for me to do fun things like this;

and this;

and this;

So, as you can see, I am terribly busy right now with my schedule chalked full of all these tiring and not fun at all events *sarcasm intended* that leave me no time to remember things like what day it is or better yet, what month it is...all this sunshine has depleted my last remaining brain cells and I am uber forgetful these days. 

I will make some cartoons this weekend and find 2 healthy brain cells in this noggin' of mine to help me create something entertaining for your hungry eyes for Monday's post.

Oh, but for now, here is a slightly interesting story I wanted to share with you.

See, I was talking to a friend today and during our conversation, I pointed my finger at her and a butterfly landed right on my index finger. 

After I got over the awe I felt of how special I was that a butterfly chose to land directly on my finger, I started to feel a little violated when I saw him pumping away at my appendage like it was it's very own sex doll or something...what the hell butterfly? Stick with your own kind! I don't mean to be racist against butterflies or anything but really, he didn't even bother to use protection or lubricant and um maybe next time a little foreplay? I know I have a very attractive finger but what the hell am I a 1950's house wife? ( I just assume that all 1950's housewives never got any foreplay, I don't know why I think that, I just figure women who drink that much and require that many barbituates probably weren't getting any foreplay).

Anyways, at first, I felt so dirty...but then I remembered... this was the most action I have seen in a LONG time, so I shouldn't complain *smiley finger*

BEST FINGER RAPING EVER! Thanks Mr. Butterfly for making my day a special one...brings a whole new meaning to 'smell my finger' that's for sure.

Time to get to bed so I can wake up early and get back to my hectic life of beach bumming and snorkeling.

Loving all your comments and emails! Thanks for caring enough to write them...now smell my finger, it smells all rape-y! Isn't that special?

~I surrender to The Writing Womb~

Monday, October 18, 2010

I Wanted To Somehow Mention Jeff Goldblum In This Post But I Lacked The Creative Ability To Do So!

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I was at work today, in my little registration hut just outside the yoga hall, feeling anything but Zen because of a certain flying insect that felt the need to swarm my head all morning.

I was trying to figure out why flies irritate me so much when it occurred to me, that flies tend land on and hover around only a few things: The starving 3rd world children, The Rotting Corpses, The garbage  and The Fecal Matter.

So, when a fly lands on me, I take it personally! To me, it’s as if the fly is deliberately insulting me with its presence. Like it’s trying to tell me something…Leaving me to wonder if I am a rotting corpse, or stinking like garbage or have somehow become a hungry third world child or maybe it’s trying to remind me of what a huge pile of shit I am…either way, it’s annoying and my self esteem plummets when they won’t leave me alone.

All morning long, this damn fly was flittering around my head. At first I would just brush it away and try to send peaceful thoughts its way but after like an hour, each time it came close to my head,  I was all ‘oh no you didn’t’ (neck attitude included) cause today is not the day to remind me of what a piece of shit I am. 

I began cursing at the top of my lungs and getting more and more annoyed while others became more and more amused of just how intensely focused I was at capturing and executing this little fucker.

So every time I got a glimpse of this annoying insect in my peripheral vision, I attacked the air like I was Luke fighting against the federation wielding my invisible light saber as I yelled profanities and Star Wars quips just to make it fun (I am pretty sure this is how ‘normal’ people get locked away for a brief period of time) *making Darth Vader like breathing sounds* Fly: ‘Patricia, I am your father’  Me: (best adam sandler impression ever! Think Happy Gilmore meets Billy Madison) “You’re gonna dieeee  flyyyyy!” Laser battle commences...cue the awesome lightsaber sounds *whhuuuummm, whhhuuummmm*

I was staring at the computer screen, trying to finish up some work when I saw him out of my peripheral, my back arched like a cat ready to pounce I stayed very still didn’t move a muscle…eyes focused straight …I was trying to trick the fly into believing I hadn’t seen him see? I was trying to show him I was still working see? oh yes I was being very very sneaky indeed… this was it…but as soon as I moved my eyes to the right it zipped out of my sight again! GOD Damn it!

I immediately took on Axl Rose’s persona as I shrilly said,  “You know where you are? You’re in the jungle baby!!! And your gonna DIIIEEEEE!” 

The people at the nearby restaurant were super impressed! They had breakfast and a free show!

My face contorted into some sort of golemnesque mask as I slowly wiped at  the area where the fly had touched me hissing ‘My precious. He wants the precious. Always he is looking for it.  But we mustn't let him have it.'

Man, was this fly fast! Seriously this fly had nothing on speedy Gonzales. Like maybe if you combined Speedy Gonzales with the Roadrunner and sprinkled some PCP over their heads and gave them one of those brooms from Harry Potter, maybe then they could compare to the lightning fast ways of this fly. Every single time I went to look at it and capture it, it moved out of my line of vision! It was like it knew if I got one direct look at it I would surely be able to end it’s annoying little life. This fly had the fucking Vulcan Mind Meld on me I swear! My mind to your mind Your mind to my mind ( I am such a geek to know this oh lord!)

I now am fully understanding of why cats will spend several hours chasing one flying insect…it’s not for the sheer joy and pleasure of it but because they are so fucking annoyed and must get even with the flying critter. There is some sort of twisted satisfaction you get out of killing an irritating insect.

I went back to my work and he showed up again but as soon as I moved my eyes he high tailed it away from me again!

I was hysterically livid …and then it struck me…um Trish, lets think about this for a moment… flies don’t have a brain large enough to conspire to irritate you nor do they have the ability to Vulcan mind melt with you…I nodded my head in agreement with myself…plus you have never once got a good look at this ‘fly’ right? So I moved my eyes quickly to the right and sure enough I saw my ‘fly’ again.

I took a look in a mirror and saw that it was actually a tiny mosquito that I somehow managed to annihilate with my amazing killer blinking abilities (now those are some mad skills right there, like some bad assed Karate Kid shit right there! Daniel-son aint got nothing on me, wax on, wax off!)

Its nasty carcass was resting right on my eyeball! I mean my eye was a little scratchy but I just figured it was a broken blood vessel or something from the lack of sleep I had the night before.   How fucked up is that? All that time, energy and terrible celebrity impressions,  trying to get even with something that I already had masterfully killed…I think a big DOH! is in order here! Like I should get a big wad of DOH for being so retarded (or maybe a 'special' helmet).

The Winner after this round: ME !!! So Suck it, Mosquito!

~I surrender to The Writing Womb~

Monday, October 04, 2010

Rainbows and Dolphin Farts

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My new bloggy friend Marcy over at Giddy fingers  commented on my last post about laser hair removal saying "If I were to do it I would get my entire body lasered (apart from my eyebrows and head otherwise I'd just look like a freak dolphin)"

This image in my mind made me laugh so hard a little brain flew out of my left nostril (even though I don't have much brain to spare, it was totally worth it).

So here it is, the dramatic before and after Laser Hair Removal of Miss Giddy Fingers. Check out her blog she's totally hilarious!



Now that is one sleek and sexy Laser Hair Removal procedure! That's Dolphin Hawt!

I wanted to show the before and after pics of Spiderman's buttery balls but alas, those pics were waaaayyy too graphic even for this naughty little blog *crooked smiley face*

Anyways folks, I won't be able to blog again till next Thursday due to a redardedly busy schedule that has just happened upon me *wipes tear from eye* I will miss you all so much *Oscar winning performance*
So, until then, keep it smooooth!
Kisses and Dophin farts to you all!
Patricia ~ The Naked Writer

Thursday, September 30, 2010

Laser Hair Removal = Super Hero's Best Kept Secret!

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I have always wanted to try Laser Hair Removal, but whenever I think about doing it, all these unsubstantiated fears come up and consume me.

Like how do we know it’s safe? What if voluntarily subjecting yourself to lasers gives you cankles in the near future?

What if leg hair becomes fashionable 10 years from now and then I will look like a plucked chicken that no man will ever find sexy?

What if I get lost in the arctic circle while looking for Santa at the North Pole and the only thing that could save me from hypothermia is curling up with my big bushy Paul Bunyan legs?

What if when I am a senile old lady, I mistake my hairy legs for cute cuddly kittens that are always there with me, giving me something to live for…could I really deny my future bluehaired self that kind of pleasure?

What if the laser somehow deflects off my leg and hits a big shiny object like a desk or medical cabinet or something and then beams right into my eyes hypnotizing me to become the first anti hair removal robot. Where I turn into a lethal killing machine whenever anyone even mentions the phrase ‘hair removal’

That’s a little crazy I know! But we don’t know what these lasers are capable of…maybe that’s how the super heroes REALLY came to be…they were just regular civilians trying to rid themselves of excess hair…and poof laser in the eye! And now they have super powers and must save the fucking world every second of every day…what a pain in the arsehole…that theory makes much more sense to me than a spider bite or expedited human mutations.

Thanks for the Spiderman Costume pic


I also have an issue with Laser hair removal because it’s just a priest and a bottle of holy water away from being a modern day exorcism. Where we banish unwanted body hair as if we were (get ready to use a heavy southern drawl here) ex-or-cisin’ the demons! Sending that hair back to the depths of hell from which it came.
 The power of Christ compels you and so does the power of the Laser :o)

Anyone ever done this to themselves? Any problems? Does it actually work? Did you have hair removal remorse? Did you get cankles or Elephantitis of the leg area? Would love to know!

~I surrender to The Writing Womb~


Monday, September 27, 2010

Her Name Was Kock!

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You know when you first meet someone and they tell you that their last name is Kock and then you subtly point out the obvious ice breaker that could have the both of you rolling on the floor with laughter and being BFF’s for the rest of your lives but they fail to see the humour in it because they must be either dead inside or in a waking coma?

Then you have to bottle that laughter up and hold back all those zingers and naughty one liners that are now bombarding your brain until you can barely take it anymore.

Her pursed lips and scowl are now forcing you to swallow all that joy deep down into your belly until it can be released as a big fart at a later time when you are all alone with the covers up around your head so you can inhale the smell that once was the biggest laugh you never did have!

That is essentially what happened to me today. Except I haven’t had the pleasure of revisitng my joy in fart form yet. I feel all bloated with the laughter I had to supress cause of this girls missing funny bone.

My brain sent out an APB "calling all cars, calling all cars, be on the look out for one bone. Code name: Funny, known to reside in the elbow region...may be armed and dangerous."

I mean if my last name was Kock, I would totally make fun of myself by promoting myself with hilarious t shirts.

Or when people would say 'holy fuck!  Your last name is kock?' In my best Ron Burgundy, Anchorman impression, I would be all like 'yeah, it really weighs me down… all 12 inches of it' 

With a last name like Kock, I would be forced to procreate just so I could name my kids Sweet Kock and Hannibal Kock. These names alone would ensure my children's success in the porn industry and bring mamma home the bacon!
 I just don’t understand why people who have obviously funny names don’t have a better sense of humour about it!!!
~I surrender to The Writing Womb~



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