my husband sells drugs.

“wow,” i’m sure you’re thinking. “i need to figure out how to have leigh hook me up.”

yeah, yeah, i should be so lucky. it’s pharmaceuticals, and not really even *good* pharmaceuticals, if you know what i’m talking about. if you need the drugs my husband is selling, you are seriously effed up and chances are you’ll be dead within six months. uplifting, i know.

but, he’s very good at selling them. he’s so good in fact, that chances are, we’ll be going to paris and italy (the european ones, not the texas ones) in april because of his sales abilities. in which case i’m going to need a passport.

so recently, i traipsed on down to the passport office. if you haven’t had the pleasure of going to the passport office, it’s a lot like going to the post office (cos it was in the back of the post office) only even more frustrating, if that’s humanly possible.

so i figured that i would share my experience with you, because i learned some valuable information, mostly due to the woman in line in front of me.

1. there is a form you can fill out online and print out before you get there. do this. 

2. bring your checkbook. the u.s. government does not take american express.

3. copies of anything do not mean shit.

4. powers of attorney do not mean shit.

5. your ignorance of the rules does not mean shit.

6. the fact that a baby cannot sign his own application does not mean shit. everyone getting a passport must be there, in person, no exceptions, regardless of whether or not they are even capable of holding a pen.

7. your unprepared ass is holding up the line and can you PLEASE move to the side so they can help someone that READ the website before they came down here and knows what the hell they are doing. NEXXXXT!!

7. smiling for your passport photo is strictly forbidden. however, looking like a deer caught in headlights is not only completely acceptable, it’s de rigueur.

dont forget to click http://www.humor-blogs.com/ for me. 

damn you, rickey henderson. i hate memes. but rickey just posted a really cool one that i had never seen before. movie quotes! awesome, i thought. i’ve seen tons of movies. this should be fun…and easy.

not even one. not even ONE that i could remotely figure out without googling. so, i’m taking the low road. i’m not trying to be clever, or impress anyone with my knowledge of obscure movie quotes. these are going to be easy, people. 

also, i have taken some liberties. they might not ALL be movies. i expect perfect scores.

let’s get crackin’:

1. get your ass to mars. (diesel – total recall)

2. i made some love stains in the back. you’ll see. (rickey – harold and kumar)

3. christ. seven years of college down the drain. might as well join the effing peace corps. (george – animal house)

4. giggity! (family guy – bee)

5. looks like i picked the wrong week to quit sniffing glue. (frogster – airplane)

6. effing chuck norris! (renal failure – dodge ball)

7. people on ludes should not drive. (frogster – fast times at ridgemont high)

8. doughnuts. is there anything they can’t do? (harris bloom – homer simpson)

9. i’m not even supposed to be here today! (frogster – clerks)

10. wow, that was really scary and if you don’t mind me saying, if that don’t work, your breath will certainly get the job done, cause you definitely need some tic tacs or something, cause your breath STINKS! (joeybear – shrek)

11. slap it. shoot it. kaboot it! (joeybear – school of rock)

12. just cinch it! (diesel – SNL gap girls skit – this is a classic. i’m going to try to find it on youtube)

13. hey, if you want me to take a dump in a box and mark it guaranteed, i will. i got spare time. (frogster – tommy boy)

14. i caught you a delicious bass. (harris bloom – napolean dynamite)

15. he leaves work, he’s on his way home. WHAM, his cappa is detated from his head.

16. blown up, sir! (frogster – stripes)

17. this is a hybrid. this is a cross, ah, of bluegrass, kentucky bluegrass, featherbed bent, and northern california sensemilia. the amazing stuff about this is, that you can play 36 holes on it in the afternoon, take it home and just get stoned to the bejeezus-belt that night on this stuff. (renal failure – caddyshack)

18. – what happened to buzzsaw? (frogster – running man)
      – he had to split.

19. tattoo on the lower back? might as well be a bullseye. (wedding crashers – rickey)

20. max, can you earmuff for me? we are going to get so much ass here, it’s going to be sick. i’m talking like crazy boy band ass. (old school – bee)

ok, there you have it. i’m not going to call any one out, but if you feel so inclined, come up with your own list.

get your ass over to http://www.humor-blogs.com/

according to some internet sources, when jared, the subway sandwich guy was in college, he operated a successful business from his dorm room – porn running.

seriously? is anyone really surprised by this? he just looks like a creepy video store guy.  supposedly he had an EXTENSIVE collection, which is *shocking*. 

he probably decided to go into business to supplement his food budget. anyway, so he started renting the movies for $1.00 a pop, and things just took off.

you know, personally, i don’t know why he stopped. jared seems like a pretty shrewd guy. he probably could have revolutionized the porn/sandwich industry. 

guy: yes, i’ll have an egg salad, extra mayo, and a copy of “dirty debutantes.”

jared: we’re having a special today, buy two sandwiches get a second video rental free.

guy: ok, i’ll also take a smoked turkey and “matchgame, the uncensored version.”

apparently business was booming. typically college students have a moderate amount of disposable income, are a great untapped market, and know a good bargain when they see it. look where it got michael dell.

if you find me even remotely funny, please click on http://humor-blogs.com/ 

my love for the show “the family guy” is no big secret. in fact, i think lois is a very good mother.

so the other night, my husband and i were watching the “back to the woods” episode i tivoed, when the following conversation took place:

him: what are you laughing at?

me: that barry manilow calls quagmire up on stage and sings to him instead of a girl.

him: why is that funny?

me: seriously? because barry manilow is gay.

him: what? barry manilow is not gay. i mean, his SONGS are gay, but he’s not gay. is he married?

me: no. but what difference does that make? elton john was married to a woman in the 80s and now he’s the freaking queen of england.

him: i still think you’re wrong.

me: hello? MAN-dy? a shadow of a MAN, a face through a window? you came and you gave without taking? some dude is looking through his window, among other things. obviously a thinly veiled nod to his lover, and it’s not “mandy.” it’s a MAN, baby.

him: that’s crazy talk. next you’ll be telling me stewie is gay.

me: uhhh….are we watching the same show?

him: stewie is not gay. what about that episode when he tries to do it with the popular high school girl?

me: yeah, well he also tries to do it with the DOG, too. look, i read about this. stewie is gay and he was going to come out, but the writers decided it was funnier to just have stewie want to sleep with everyone. hell, he even thinks about doing it with jesus. 

him: wha? i don’t believe it.

me: look, you have a gay brother. you’re supposed to know about this stuff. don’t you have any gaydar?

him: well, growing up, i knew my brother was different, i just thought he was a sissy. but he had me fooled because he always seemed to have these good looking girlfriends. anyway, so i when i finally figured out they were just beards, i slept with a couple of them. 

me: so i guess, technically, that doesn’t make them sloppy seconds.

…

so, i’ve decided i’m taking a poll. what do you think?

barry manilow, stewie – gay or not gay? (not that there’s anything wrong with that)

they take all comers over at

apparently, yes i am. since humor-blogs crashed a while back i’ve been having some problems with my humor-blogs account. my user profile just disappeared and the cute picture i photo-shopped down to fit was replaced by the running brown brick (can someone please tell me what the hell that thing is!?) and the cute little bio i wrote just went poof. plus i couldn’t even get in to edit my site details.

so anyway, because i love humor-blogs SOOO much, i have been harassing kindly asking diesel to please figure out what the hell is wrong and fix it.

then just a few days ago, i noticed that when i published a new post, it appeared TWICE on the humor-blogs funniest list. well…. THAT is pretty nice, i thought. i guess bee isn’t the only one who can figure out how to hog the front page and i didn’t have to blow anybody either.

great exposure aside, i still couldn’t get into my account even though it APPEARED that i was logged in (foreshadowing). and then yesterday i noticed that while leighonline.com was sitting pretty at about number 13 on the humor-blogs charts a usurper, leighonline, had just rounded the front page corner and was positioned at number 30, and in the bottom right corner was the little paper and pen icon that had been missing from my profile for so long.

yes, apparently, i somehow had two profiles – a bizarro leighonline if you will. 

and my computer was automatically logging me onto the bizarro profile. and additionally, i seem to have forgotton my original password which i was finally able to retrieve after manually logging out and then clicking on the “forgot your password” link.

a complete blond moment. almost but not quite as good as the time i was discussing the diaper-wearing astronaut with a co-worker.

me: why do you think they wear those diapers anyway? is it for the Zs?
him: uhhhh, you mean the Gs?
me: (laughing nervously to cover up my stupidity) ha ha, yeah that’s what i meant.
him: yeah, well i hear the Ds, Es and Fs are the real bitch.

at this point however, diesel had figured out what has wrong and deleted one of the profiles (the higher one of course) and now i’ve lost about half of my clicks.  thanks big guy. kidding. love you.

anyway, so i can’t believe i’m doing this, but i’m whoring myself out.

please click on humor-blogs to help me regain my once and hopefully future place on the charts.

typically, i don’t ask for favors, but this is a worthwhile cause.

my brother-in-law is currently a candidate for the u.s. olypmic hall of fame. he is an amazing person. when he was born he was a preemie and suffered some injuries to his spine. however, he has not let anything stop him. he went on to become a great athlete and has won several gold medals and set a record in the 100m race.

plus, he’s also a candidate for the hot sexy bald men club.

PLEASE go to this site, watch the video and vote for him.

http://www.usolympichalloffame.com/?page_id=17#video

http://www.humor-blogs.com/

like, oh my GOD! the party was so BITCHEN! 
i’m like totally freaking out!

…

some highlights:

i finally had the biggest hair of anyone.

at this point in my life, i’m old enough to know better than to drink the mystery punch and not just because it was yellow. 

my costume was vintage 80s adrienne vittadini purchased off ebay for $15. but the really amusing part was that i actually owned this sweater in the cardigan version with pockets, which i seem to recall set me back about $100. that was/is still a lot of beer money.

not only my son, but also my daughter asked me if i was supposed to be a cow.

no one threw up, but “spicoli” slipped and fell on the keg overflow and broke his ass on the tile floor.

i was busting some moves that i forgotten i had. 

no seemed to notice the homoerotic undertones of the dance moves the “choose life” buddies where throwing down, but then i’ve got gaydar like nobody’s business.

… 

oh yeah. my husband wore the original mullet wig i bought…and i kind of noticed this. i’m just saying.

i put this slide show together to commemorate the evening.

if the song sounds a little familiar, it’s because some iconic 90s grunge trio, which shall remain nameless, totally ripped off the guitar riff from what might be one of the best 80s songs ever, without even bothering to give credit where credit is due.

now of the three, one of the guys is dead and another one is … a blogger. yeah, karma’s a bitch. like, totally.

click here for more funny stuff: humor-blogs.com

i’m going to an 80s party this weekend. the invitation asked that we dig deep in those closets and come dressed as we were back in the day. problem is,  no one dresses up for an 80s party based on how they actually looked in the 80s.  they dress how they WISHED they had looked in the 80s.

that’s because most of us, or me anyway, lacked the skills to really make myself resemble anything remotely like what i was seeing on mtv. plus, if you know me, you know i was more interested in looking like a virginal preppy than the material girl.

here’s a perfect example. i found this photo while ransacking the closets.

i’m not really sure when this was taken, as i used one of those polaroid instamatics which spit the picture out and it developed right before your eyes, so there’s no date on it. but i’m going to put it right about 1985. 

i’m not exactly sure WHAT i was trying to accomplish, but i’m guessing i was trying to make my hair big. i just wasn’t entirelyremotely successful. i distinctly remember this night and taking before and after shots (no i’m not showing the before) so i know i was trying to doll myself up.

i’m pretty sure i was aiming for something like this:

behold lisa hartman. owner of the best 80s female mullet. ever.

i loved this woman. i wanted to be this woman. i thought she was absolutely gorgeous, and genetically blessed, and she incited a veritable amount of envy in girls, and lust in boys.

anyway, so i decided that i was going to find a way to wear my hair like this to the party. i start rummaging around on the internet looking for wigs, because i figured, since i was never able to achieve that level of awesomeness the first go-around, the second attempt wouldn’t be any better. so i found and ordered this:

and then unbelievably, i stumbled across this. WTF ya’ll?

no, that’s not my before picture. that’s my beloved lisa. holy EFFING crap. i spent years thinking if i could just fix my hair i could look like her and NOW i realize, what i really needed was a nose job. 

ok, so now i feel a little deceived but also a WHOLE lot better. lisa really was just one of us after all. i’ve also decided, i’m not going to stress about my hair either. my husband’s going to wear the mullet wig i bought. he needs it more anyway.

pictures will be forthcoming. i promise.

XOXOXOXO

mullets are always in style at humor-blogs.com

***CAUTION! this post contains explicit photos that may not be suitable for children or adults with weak stomachs. read at your own risk.*** 

i feel like ass. hammered ass to be exact. and it’s all self inflicted. i’m sure you’re wondering why someone would intentionally subject themselves to feeling like hammered ass, so i guess i’ll tell you.

it all started with a picture. this picture, to be exact. there, do you see it? my neck. or what’s left of it.

i’m a pretty tiny person, but i guess when you have two kids and top out in hindenburg-like proportions twice in five years before shrinking back down to normal, something’s gotta give. and in my case, i just blew out my neck. 

plus this whole middle age thing has been bugging me, so i decided it’s finally time to start the renovation. when i broached the subject with my husband, i got this:

me: so i was thinking i’d like to have my neck, you know, fixed.

him: there’s nothing wrong with your neck.

me: yes, there is. it’s saggy and it makes me feel old.

him: how much is this going to cost me? (this is really the crux of the whole conversation)

me: not that much. it’s about $XXXX.

him: what??!! that’s ridiculous! there’s nothing wrong with your neck from what i can see. if you’re going to get some work done, you should get something done that at least i can get some benefit from…like your boobs.

me:   *crickets*  …well, THAT’S interesting because i wasn’t AWARE that there was anything WRONG with my boobs.

him: well, they could always be bigger. you know… pamela anderson. i’m just sayin’.

anyway, so after he came to, we agreed i could move forward with this.

i’ve never actually had any kind of cosmetic procedures done so i had no idea what to expect. the whole idea of being put under kinda scares me, so i was excited when i found a doc who would perform the procedure using local anesthesia. (here’s some foreshadowing. pay attention.) i’ve had the pleasure of popping out one child without the benefit of an epidural, and anyone who’s done that knows what hell is like. so i figured this would be a piece of cake.

so the day of the procedure, i go in early to be prepped. they give me two valium to “calm” my nerves and something else for nausea. awesome, i think. i immediately pass out fall asleep in the room. i wake up about an hour later thinking it was all over and realized they haven’t even gotten to me.

another hour passes and finally the doc comes in. at this point, the drugs are starting to wear off so i’m starting to get a little panicky but now he’s raring to go. first he gives me some shots in my face to numb me up. a LOT of shots.  then he starts doing some lipo under my chin. he is jabbing this long pointy needle looking thing under my chin which i can completely see (but not feel) and all i’m thinking is, great, he’s going to hit my jugular. he must have noticed i was about to lose consciousness.

doc: hmmmm…..ms. X? you’re looking a little pale. did you eat this morning?

me: no.

doc: you were supposed to eat. nurse, can you please bring ms. X a cookie and some sprite?

so i eat my snack like a good little girl, and then he goes back for phase two. i realize now, that i never really asked him EXACTLY what he was going to do to “tighten up” my neck but now i was at the point of no return. i’m not going to bore you with all the little details but let’s just say there was cutting and the smell of burning flesh, and pulling and tugging and sewing going on.  and then we were all done.

the first day or so i spent wrapped up in bandages and eating darvocet like jelly beans, and i had no desire to even look to see what was underneath the gauze. when i started to feel better, i decided to take a peek. i had several reactions all at once, including holy f*&k, wow, and gee…yellow is not such a good color for me.

i must have about 100 stitches around each ear and they are so tiny it’s amazing. my nurse informed me that as a resident, my doc’s nickname was “the human sewing machine.” effing sweet. the man is good. ladies, this is why you want a board-certified facial plastic surgeon. not some dermatologist who took a weekend class. if anyone wants his number, just email me.

but whoa!!! check out that neck! turkey waddle? gone. even my sister sessie, was *kind* enough to remark, “hey, i remember when you used to look like that!”

and now, i do again, hammered ass and all. thanks sis.

get your spirits lifted at humor-blogs.com