Everything you don't want to know about chicks

This is the real deal people. We poop, we fart and even more angelic, we bleed for 5-6 days every month. Hotness.This blog isn't just about gross habits. It's about a REAL girl with confidence to talk openly about the things that most would deem embarrassing. Stay tuned...I'm going to make this fun for you and me both!

[chickspoop-blog]

How the fuck am I supposed to deal with these disgusting women in club bathrooms. Ps: just after taking this photo a girl puked on my foot. She's lucky to be alive...I really didn't want to see her fucking chicken burrito from Chipotle.

[chickspoop-blog]

Bleeding Love on Valentine's Day

You may be wondering why I didn’t post last week. Maybe I got busy? Maybe I’m over this blogging shit? No….in fact, I had many foul words coming out of my mouth all last week. Lot’s of rich content; however I couldn’t concentrate enough to put that anger and frustration into words due to the heavy bleeding coming from my uuuurrrrea. N’am sayin?

I pretty much hated the world. Hated you. Hated hating you. And then I cried. It’s really fucked up having a vagina. You’re telling me that I’m gonna bleed for 5 days every month, until one day in my 40s-50s my vaj dries up like the Sahara and I can’t hold my own bladder? Even laughing at my own jokes will cause me to piss myself? That’s fucking torture. Thanks, Eve….You’re a gem. Honestly.

Additionally, why is it that the Lawd makes us get our periods right when we’re taking a mega dump? I know I’m not the only one who experiences this. I have friends who have confirmed the phenomenon. Seriously though, do I not have enough of a mess going on down there already? The best is when men say, “What the fuck...do you eat toilet paper or something?” My response to that is, “No, I don’t eat toilet paper. My vagina does. Sorry I bleed for 5 days without a flinch and you get a paper cut and start bitching.” I’ve never actually said that…but if ever asked, that would be my response.

Lastly, if i want to eat Twizzlers for dinner, leave me the fuck alone. And If I want a burrito with my Twizzlers, leave me the fuck alone.

[chickspoop-blog]

Size Complex

If you’re reading this, you’re most-likely not still in high school.  If you are, your precious little mind and ass should really pay attention to what I’m about to say.  It will save you from the shame and embarrassment that lies ahead if you do not heed my advice.

Muffins are a great, tasty treat.  They make a great indulgent breakfast when the time is right, and pair well with your favorite morning beverage.  And who doesn’t love the top of a muffin? Risen to perfection and sprinkled with tiny crystals of sugary bliss…

Here’s the problem I have with muffins.  THEY SHOULD NOT BE COMING OUT OF YOUR FUCKING PANTS.

Guess what? You’re not in high school or college anymore. 

You’ve matured into a woman with curves.  As my friend and coworker Ash Cash MoneyMillionaire stated, “Just because you can button them, doesn’t mean they fit.”  Spewage, is not hot, not classy and sure as fucking hell not professional.  What is with the size complex you bitches have? I wear a size 10. I could button a size 8, but then you’re gonna see shit you don’t want to see. Trust me…you don’t want to see allllllllllllladis. 

By the way, how in dear baby Jesus’ name are you comfortable? Crack kills people.

I also don’t want to know that your belly button is big enough to eat cereal out of.  I’m not really sure what it is with the breakfast theme in this blog post, but just stay with me.  When I can see the moon crater, that is your belly button, that means your shirt is too fucking tight.  Size up girl, size up. You’re not a small anymore and that’s OK.

[chickspoop-blog]

You're lucky I didn't take a picture of your license plate you mother fucker. If I could, I'd fart in your face after mexican food you fuck head.

[chickspoop-blog]

I Have a Serious Concern.

I don’t mean to bring this post back to the gym, but there’s just too much material there for me to write about. I feel like this is my opportunity to tell all 9 of my subscribers to this blog (fucking subscribe if you haven’t) that I have a serious concern. This post might save a life.

In my time of trying to keep up with my fitness (basically cutting it even between the treadmill and Mexican food) I have observed something heinous. Something so wrong and unnecessary. Please see exhibit A:

STOP. JUST STOP IT.

1. I know damn right that you’re not comfortable in those pants. I don’t know about you, but my ass sweats when I actually exert any kind of energy at the gym. Let’s please stay away from light colored pants/shorts….for the children.

2. While we’re at it, a sports bra doesn’t qualify as a shirt. More power to you if you have rock hard abs. But Lawd knows you’re not wearing half a shirt because you don’t want attention. And by the way…ever heard of MRSA or staph infections?? Cover up yo skin gurl. SHNARSTY!!!!

3. Vagina cleavange is not sexy. No one wants to know what your FUPA looks like. Don’t know what a FUPA is? See definition here: http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=FUPA

The next problem I have with you sickos is this:

WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?

I guess the only plus side to this is that I barf up my lunch. Saves me some calories.

This is unacceptable. You mean to tell me that your shit isn’t chaffing like a mother fucker?? You mean to tell me that you don’t know you have cellulite on your fucking ass? I’m not gonna say it’s gross to have cellulite. Lawd knows we all have it, but for fucks sake keep it under clothing. You don’t want to see my ass, and I sure as hell don’t want to see yours.

Finally, ladies. Wear a damn SPORTS BRA. They have fabulous ones at a place I like to call WALMART for like $6. I don’t want to know if they hang low, wobble or flow or that you can tie ‘em in a knot or in a bow. Honestly.

You know how they say if you’re leaving the house for work and you second guess something you’re wearing, you probably shouldn’t wear it? Yea…Let’s take that one to the gym with us in 2012 and beyond…if we live past December!

[chickspoop-blog]

The Rumbles at the Gym

Being that this is my first blog entry, I feel totally responsible for adhereing to the title of it.  Not to say that all posts will be about pooping. (I mean really, how far can I go?) But I will be focusing on the behaviors of the mysterious animal that is the female human.

So....Rumbles at the gym? You know what I'm talking about? You finally got your fatass to the gym and you're feeling great. You think to yourself "Fuck yeah I can run this shit."  You're 10 minutes in and feeling fantastic until....grrrrrggg. Mmmmmhmmmm; dats right guuuurl.  Time to continue that run to the bathroom because you are about to BLOW.

This is by the way, the WORST time to have to duke.  You're sweaty and disgusting and Lawd knows you're not putting your ass on that nasty toilet seat. (If you are, then stop reading this blog...your level of disgust is insurmountable) So you struggle to hold your shit in while cross hatching the fuck out of toilet paper in order to make a nice seat for you to unleash hell on.

It's OK though girl...keep it up.  That's just your digestive system waking up! What's worse though, is if you're trying to be healthy at work...so you're eating veggies, beans and eggs for lunch.  Get ready for a fart every step you take, every move you make (thanks Diddy.)  G'damn that's rough...especially for the people behind you...but I know you can't help it.

PS: I look like the hottie in yellow to the right.

Please leave comments on this post so that I know I'm not the only disgusting female on this planet.  Also, let me know if you want me to write about something in particular! :)