McRevenge

There's only been a few people I have met that I have secretly put them in the 'must seek revenge on this shit head' list. Here is the story of two people on that list. I get in moods sometimes, where I am a raginggggg bitch. And I'm in the wrong for ever going out in public when I'm in that state of mind. But if someone does something tremendously dumb or annoying when I'm in a 'Leanne state of mind' mood they are doomed. So, a while back I was going to Toronto for the day and I was going to take the Greyhound there. I decided to stop by McDonald's for breakfast, to get a beloved BLT bagel. They are fucking delicious. In my mind I thought this BLT bagel would brighten my day, I envisioned, sitting there outside waiting for the bus, birds a chirping, sun a shining, just enjoying life. But nope, the fucktards who work at McDonald's fucked that up. I order my bagel, after like 5 minutes of waiting for the girl working there to even acknowledge me because she was too busy adjusting her hat she has to wear. Bitch, you're wearing a McDonald's uniform, you can only look so cute with that shit. So, finally, she puts the order in, and the greasy,pimply, pre pubescent moustache wearing kid walks from the back of the food prep area to the front where the overhead menu is and stares at the picture of what goes on the BLT bagel. You have to be fucking kidding me right? He legit stared at me for a solid minute. Goes to the back and asks another employee what goes on it. So he attempts to make it, I can see him making it and he is royally fucking it up. But I'm not going to correct him right now, I need to see where this goes, for entertainment purposes. So he finishes making the sandwich, his bimbo partner in crime puts the sandwich in the bag, but the turd in the back didn't wrap it properly so the bagel fell outta the wrap and into the brown paper bag. She pretends she didn't notice and hands me the bag. I stand there, arms crossed, bitch face on, eyebrows raised (perfectly plucked and filled in may I add, they really add to my bitch face) and I ask her to get the guy from the back so I can have a word with them. She stares at me in awe, and I say..go get your friend from the back so we can all have a chat. Soooo, she goes and gets him. And they stand there just marvelling in my ridiculousness, I say to them "okay..now...you both are going to try this again. BLT is a an acronym for what goes on it...bacon...lettuce....and tomato. Not the sausage, cheese, one tomato and a pickle or whatever you decided to put on it. So you will make that properly, and then you (looking at the girl) will package it properly, don't act like you didn't see the sandwich fall outta the wrapper into the bag. Just don't pretend. I saw...I'm not impressed." They both stare for a little too long, and go make me my BLT sandwich. He finally got it right..but really. How the fuck do you not know what goes on a damn BLT? So I finally make it to the Greyhound station and get on the bus, I have an hour bus ride to sit and plan my revenge on these two. This is how the revenge scenario plays out in my mind...these two will fall in love while salting fries at McDonald's, they will get married and in 10 years have a couple of kids. One of those kids will be a boy...and in 18 years he will be out under aged drinking at a pub with his friends, he will meet this smoking hot cougar (that'll be me) he will fall in love with her, despite the age difference. He will take me home to meet the family on Thanksgiving Day. His mom will be appalled by the age difference and that her son is dating an older lady. She will be traumatized by this. Just heart broken. She knows she wont have any grandbabies because my uterus and eggs are just dried up to all hell by now. She will take her anger out on her husband (the fucker who couldn't make a BLT) and their marriage will suffer. And I will turn to them, look them both in the face and say. "You fucked with my BLT bagel, now I'm fucking with your son. McRevenge fuckersssss!"

Let's take a moment to talk about some things....

There are way too many 'fads' out there that I can't really comprehend. Let's start off with twerking. This dance doesn't look sexy, appealing, cool, or interesting at all. To me, this dance move looks exactly how I look at 2 am when I get a crazy bad leg cramp while sleeping and trying to shake it off. Next fad, the belly top, the mid drift show-er, the muffin top exposer, the 'that's not a tattoo, it's just my stretch marks from being pregnant 4 times' fad. Who in their right fucking mind brought this into society? I understand some of these fads and fashion trends are created for the cat walk. And yes, it does look great on some people....but it's never those people that wear this mid drift showing shirt. Now, I think women of all shapes and sizes can be beautiful. That being said, I have a belly, and I know that this fad is not for my body type. I tried doing p90x ab workouts and I just looked like Chris Farley rolling around on the floor, sweating from places I didn't know could sweat. So, I cover up my gut, I'm not ashamed of it, I've invested a lot of time and money into eating Doritos to accomplish this glorious cushion of love. But no fucking way in hell will I wear a top that shows it off. But I've been seeing wayyyyyy too many ladies wearing these belly tops that shouldn't be. I'm very happy that you are confident with yourself. But if you are as beautiful and sexy as you think you are, you will be able to show this off while covered up a little bit more. Maybe it's our fault for calling it the belly top, that's kind of misleading, since you may be like ehhhh I gots me a nice belly, I can wear this shirt! We should've called it the 'only if you have a toned tight stomach shirt and are between the ages of 18 and 23' shirt. Okay, now that I've likely insulted one or two people reading this, let's move on to the last fad. I can not understand why people wear these thick, black framed glasses for fun. There is no prescription, you are wearing them because you think it's cool to wear spectacles. I have worn glasses since 4th grade I think. And it's terrible. What these hipsters who wear fashion glasses do not understand is what it's like to cut a 4 inch long slice out of your leg because you can't wear your glasses in the shower while you shave your legs. Or how when you do your makeup while blind because you can't do your eye makeup and wear glasses at the same time, and then you do your makeup, put on your glasses to find out that your eyebrows are penciled in so thick you look like an angry bird, and that you actually applied mascara to your upper lip and not your lower eyelash. Orr how about when you are trying to get sexy with a guy, and you're making out, things are getting hot and heavy and you get off the bed to take off your shirt, you also remove your glasses, leaving you pretty much legally blind then you go to sexually crawl onto the bed but you miss it by an inch because you cant fucking see anything, and now you are laying on the ground like a moron. Soooo hipsters, you still think it's cool to wear glasses? What's next wearing braces for fashion and not function, every hipster walking around with head gear, skinny jeans, a skateboard they don't know how to use and a band tshirt for a band they don't even know? Fuck right off hipsters, and you too Miley Cyrus for trying to make twerking cool, go on wit yo' pancake ass.

JiffyPop test of endurance

I have a very sure fire way to find out if things will work out with a guy when we first start to date. I like to call it the 'I can't fucking tolerate that...' motto. I have certain quirks about me, one of which being, I can't fucking tolerate the way people eat popcorn. So, on the first date I make sure we go to the movies, and get some popcorn, and if the guy eats it quietly, and properly he stands a chance. But. If the guy eats it like a hungry/horny lesbian eating a 6 pack of hard shell tacos from Taco Bell the date ends right then and there. I can't fucking tolerate someone who can't eat popcorn normally. Now, I have friends who say 'dude, it's not THAT big of a deal if someone can't eat popcorn quietly, that's no need to break up with them.' Excuse me? So when we are cuddling on the couch watching all day marathons of Golden Girls we can't eat popcorn because he chews it like a cow chews its damn cud, and I can't hear what Blanche is saying over his ignorant chewing, should we eat fig newtons instead? NO! I can't budge on that, I want to enjoy popcorn during movies and tv shows. It's a great snack. You can't replace popcorn as a movie snack, but you can replace the guy who you sit and watch movies with. And I've done it, I sat there and stared at a guy who ate his popcorn ignorantly during our first date, he likely thought I was just admiring how fucking adorable he was. But I was truly just waiting to see how long it would take for him to choke and die from hoofing in a popcorn kernel the wrong way. I wouldn't save him, that's his mothers fault for not teaching her kid to eat popcorn like a normal person. She put her son out in society without teaching him the basics. Not my issue. So we never had a 2nd date. And I hate it when bitches complain about shit their men do that drive them bat shit crazy. First thing I ask, 'welppp, did you know about this annoying trait when you first started dating? Yes, yes you did? And this is one of your 'I can't fucking tolerate that...' topics? And you chose to still date him? And now you can't even look at him without wanting to snap his neck and then spit on his corpse?' When this happens, you can't be mad at the guy anymore, you have to be mad at yourself. You made that decision to stay with a guy even though he does the very thing that makes you tick. I feel like I'm doing that guy a favour by cutting it off after the first popcorn eating disaster. I don't want to act like it doesn't bother me, or that he can learn how to eat it properly, and then he doesn't. And then 10 years down the road we will be having family game night, sitting around the table playing Monopoly. And he is chomping away on this delicious fresh popped buttery popcorn, and I fucking snap, and smash his face into the Monopoly board, and the little game pieces are jammed into his face, little hotels piercing through his eyelids, Monopoly money splattered with blood, the cheap silver Scottie Dog token staring at me with a look of fear in his eyes. My two little kids traumatized for life. And what if eating popcorn like that is an inherited trait!? And my kids eat it like that too. and I have to sit around listening to my family sitting around sounding like they are chewing on stones? I would surely have a mental breakdown! All because I didn't leave him after the fist date when I knew he ate popcorn like an ignorant heifer..That would be irresponsible. This is called the JiffyPop test of endurance, it can make or break a relationship.

Mall rats

Yesterday I went to the mall to look for a pair of heels for a few upcoming weddings I am attending. Now, I should have known this was a mistake, I hate the mall, I hate the mall right before school starts and the mall is infested with teenage shit heads. I walk into the mall and I kid you not it smells like teen spirit. There are teenagers every where and at the front entrance of the mall there is a group of 5 teenage boys who all look like Justin Bieber who yell out words like 'penis!'every time anyone walks by them. But I got really confused, I thought they were advertising a sale of penises. And I got really excited, thinking maybe the mall isn't so bad after all, I can just come here and buy a box of penises. But these kids were just liars and were not selling penises. As I look for some shoe stores I notice there are about a million teenage girls who all look identical. Every single one of them were wearing weeeee little jean cut off shorts and belly tops. This is how I know I am old, when I notice this trend and I'm appalled by it. I sound like an old lady when I just want to hiss at them 'where are your mothers!?" I sadly walk on by tender tootsies and just want to go in there and buy myself a nice pair of loafers to wear, I need comfort now not style. But I head on over to some fashionable shoe store and stare at my options of 7 inch hooker heels. When I finally find a pair I like, I quietly whisper to the store clerk "ummm, do you...umm, have these shoes in a uhhhhh ummmm, ahem....size 10?" Bitch responds "ohhhh Hun, I don't know if we have them in a size THAT big!" She pretends to go check but really just stands behind the counter texting her boyfriend talking about anal. I'm just guessing that part, but I'm pretty confident my guess is a reality. I don't even know this girl but I just hate her and her life for judging me and my big feet. Do you know what they say about girls with big feet? We like guys with big feet because they have big penises. Anywhoooo, I go to like 4 other shoe stores and face the judgemental stares of these whores who work there. One girl tried to be helpful and got me a few pairs of shoes that were size 10s all of which were flip flops or looked like crocs. Sooo, fuck this noise, fuck all you shoe stores for giving me a complex. I do what any normal female would do and go to the food court, because when clothes or shoes don't fit, food court Chinese food will always comfort me. I go to ManchuWok, I get me some noodles and veggies and a coke, and sit down to enjoy this meal. As I'm digging my way thru the noodles, I can feel someone staring at me. I look up and there is this teenage girl sitting alone just staring directly at me. I ignore it and continue to eat. Every time I look up, this girl is looking at me, I get uncomfortable because I likely look like a fool trying to eat my noodles. I instantly start to worry if I have something on my face, did I accidentally wipe off my eyebrow at some point in the day? Whyyyyy is she looking at me so intently, I don't even think she has blinked yet. I start to get enraged. I want to go confront her, but I give her a friendly wave instead. Maybe she knows me? Bitch doesn't even bat an eye when I wave! Now I'm riiiiight pissed off. I sit there just staring back now. 5 mins go by, she reaches in her purse to get something, all while still looking at me. I get kinda worried, what if she pulls out a gat and shoots the shit out of me? Nope, guess what she pulls out....a walking stick....you know the red and white ones THAT BLIND PEOPLE use?!? I was in a staring contest with a blind teenager, and she without a doubt won. Now I sit there, with cold Chinese food, feeling like a fucking prick. I felt like the biggest asshole ever, the only asshole that will be bigger then how I felt in that moment, is the actual asshole of that judgemental shoe store clerk after her boyfriend was done with her last night. I fucking hate the mall.

Prissy white bitches are the reason I stay home on Saturday nights.

There are two things I am sure of one being that I'm an asshole, there is no need to question that. And the other is that National Geographic needs to do a documentary of drunk white girls at the club.We went out last night to celebrate my friend's bachelorette party...at this point I would like to inform you that my iPad changes the word 'bachelorette' to 'nacho florets' which on it's own is epic. So I meet the crew at the bar, and I am dead sober. Biggest mistake EVER. There are way too many foolish drunk white people at this place for my mind to process. Yes, I am in fact white too, but there are a certain group of white people at this place. For example, the white girl dancing and trying her darnedest to recite the words to Nelly's 'Country Grammar'. I figure her up tight parents deprived her of listening to 'coloured people' music when she was in high school. So here she is, trying to lip sync the words but she has no fucking clue what the fuck is going on. But then something amazing happens right before my eyes, the Nelly song drops off and all of a sudden the twang of Miley Cyrus's voice penetrates this white girls ears and she fucking drops it like its hottttt. You could see the look of relief on her face, like thank the lorddddd, I know the words to this song! I've come to the conclusion white chicks love the song 'Shoop'. Myself included. When that beat drops it is nearly impossible to not start my flow off "here I go, here I go, here I go again...girls what's my weakness...MEN!" But when this jam starts to play, us pasty bitches just flock to the dance floor to show how cultured we are and to bust out our rap verses. 

I have found a new pet peeve while out last night...I'm not really sure why it bugs me, but it does. I saw way too many bitches walking around drinking wine. You're at a bar. Your wine comes from a box. And you are walking around like some uppity twat holding your glass of wine with your pinky finger in the air. Do you think this makes you look sophisticated? Like you will attract the attention of a millionaire? He will think to him self "oh wow, look at that intelligent woman with a blossoming personality drinking that very earthy wine. I may just gallivant on over to her and talk about the wine, discuss the levels of acidity and inquire whether or not it would pair well with Brie cheese. Then I will take her home to my loft apartment and have missionary intercourse with her, and afterwards we will snuggle and I will caress her silky blond hair, and in the morning I will wake up early and make her a quiche for brunch and I will accompany that quiche with a glorious mixed green salad. Then I will marry her, and we will have 2 kids together. All because she drinks wine at a bar  
and that is ever so appealing". BITCH that shit will never happen, drink a fucking beer like everyone else at the bar. God fucking damnit. 

I should not be allowed out in public. 

BlogThis! Thursday, August 15, 2013 I'm in an abusive relationship....with my uterus. My uterus is angry today. She didn't even want me to write in the blog today, I had to bribe her with a white chocolate Kit Kat for her to be distracted long enough for me to write this. Why hasn't anyone invented chocolate covered Midol yet? When my uterus is mad like this I envision her as an angry Spanish woman, I don't know why but thats how her personality is. I just picture my uterus saying in her spicy Spanish accent, "ohhhh I see, me and your auntie Ovary make you nice eggs and you no want? Ohhhh I see señorita, you're too important to fertilize this egg we give to you, as a gift?! Ahhhh I see chola, you're better than everyone else? Que no me amas?" I try to make her happy, I give her chocolate, and anything she needs to get her thru this tough time. But she is still a raging bitch. She also faxes over memos to my other body parts and says shit like; "okay team, it's that time of month again, you remember your duties? Head, remember to produce blinding headaches so Leanne can't think properly and in turn she will say stupider shit than she normally does and people will just think she is suffering small strokes. Boobs, plump up real nice okay? So big that she can only wear a ratty old sports bra. Face, you have a very important role in ruining Leanne's life...start placing those pimples all over her face. But make sure they never turn into white heads and Leanne can't pop them, but we all know she will try anyway and then have massive dry scabs for at least a week. Last but not least, Vagina....now you're going to feel left out here, but you play an important role....you're going to feel the dire need to befriend a penis, but you can't, because you will be all bunged up with a tampon, so hang tight for the week. Okay team, get out there and really fuck up Leanne's life. Sincerely, your co-conspirator, Uterus"   The chocolate is wearing off...I have to go before she gets angrier. She scares me. (To any creative minds out there who noticed her fax message wasn't representing her Spanish heritage...this is intentional. She was writing a formal business memo. Just because she is Spanish doesn't mean she has to speak ghetto Spanish all the time. Don't be such a stereotypical jerk) Wednesday, August 14, 2013 A Mother's love My mom is a kind hearted person, very loving, understanding and has sure put up with a lot of my antics over the years. Although she is a lovely person that kinda shit doesn't get ratings with my fan base, so here is a story about the one and only time my Mother has lied to me. Years ago my Mom, sister and I went to the US to go on a girl's shopping trip. We ended up at Burlington Coat Factory and I came across this wicked awesome "leather" bomber jacket. I turned to my Ma and said "Be completely honest, does this jacket make me look like a butchy lesbian?" My mom looked me dead in the eyes and said "No, it looks great!" I was thinking to myself, hellll yes I look like a bad ass chick with my new digs. On the Monday morning I get dressed, and decided it was slightly nippy out so I would wear my new fierce jacket, show the world how fashion forward I am. I get my stuff for school and head to the subway station. As I am waiting on the platform for the train a lady wearing a ripped up jean jacket, combat boots, a nose ring on both sides of her nostrils and a bleached blond pixie cut approaches me and asks me for my number. Right then and there I realized my sweet,innocent Mother lied to me. She sent me out in this scary world to get bum rushed by lesbians. She will never admit that she did this on purpose. But I know she did it to get back at me for the shit I pulled in my teenage years! So, here I stand face to face with this woman, who wants to enjoy the all you can eat Taco Monday special. I politely tell her I am flattered but I am in fact straight....despite what my butchy leather jacket insinuates....she stared me down, eye fucked the shit outta me for about 42.7 seconds and went on her way. A week later, I wore the jacket again because it was cold out and I didn't have too many other options. Guess who hits on me at Starbucks? A lady! There is nothing wrong with being gay, or lesbian. It is a lovely thing, but for me I know that 100% I am a straight female. If I still am attracted to men after seeing a 3 inch penis, then I know I am a die hard wiener fan. And it is a factoid that pink does not look good on me, this is including and not limited to a pink vagina being on me. I also know that this jacket is without a doubt a pussy magnet and that my Mother did in fact lie to me. Tuesday, August 13, 2013 ..and this lil piggy went wee wee wee allll the way home! If you are my Mother or Father...look away...do NOT proceed with this tidbit......I am way too old to get grounded......I'm sorry..I know...I can feel you just dying of embarrassment Mom...I get it...please don't yell...I love you. Everyone else...enjoy :)  I have come to the conclusion that I hit my "peak" far too early in life when it comes to men. When I was in my teenage years I had so much penis thrown at me I didn't know what to do with it...literally...I had no idea what to do with it. Now, the only time a penis has been thrown in my direction lately was when my ex boyfriend got out of the shower and came at me with his flaccid penis yelling "look at the lil piggy". Mind you it did look like a lil pig's nose indeed, I give him extra points for the creativity. But sweet Jesus, really?! I don't really even know where this blog post is going, so I'm just going to leave you with the image of a flaccid penis engraved in your mind. You're welcome. Monday, August 12, 2013 This PSA is brought to you by.... I had a few ideas for my next blog entry until I saw a few things today that set me riiiiight off and I had to interrupt my thought process because people are fucking idiots. This one is for a specific group of ladies. I'm going to call them the "no flush crew". These disgusting twats insist on not flushing the toilets in public washrooms. I have seen WAY too much human excrement to last me a life time of disgust. Every time I went to the washroom at work today I saw the taggings of the "no flush crew" I've narrowed it down to two motives of why these heffers do such a thing. First off we have the sows  who leave bloody tampons in the toilet. My guess is they are so fucking excited that they got their periods after that pregnancy scare after her one night stand with Pablo in the Taco Bell employee washroom, that she decides to leave the evidence of her menstrual cycle in the toilet for all to see! Bitch....high five your self that you dodged the pregnancy bullet once again this month. Pat your self on the back that the pull out method didn't fail you, dont leave that filth in the toilet for the next poor soul to see. Secondly, the "ladies" who like to leave the turd floaters behind. I'm guessing this is a pride thing. You are so proud of your super duper log that you just have to share it with your co-workers. Did you think we would marvel in this? That we would consider you a goddess that your anus can stretch to an ungodly size to get that thing out of your body? You were wrong...no one wants to see that shit..literally. If you are so proud of it, own up to it, take a picture and put that on Instagram, throw a filter on that, put a frame around it, maybe throw some text on er. You bitches that do this kinda stuff are just wrong, dead wrong. Stop it. Stop making me interrupt my daily blog programming to give you this public service announcement. Ya dig?! Sunday, August 11, 2013 3 inches of vengeance There are 3 things that are all 3 inches long that have come WAY to close too my body and they have all traumatized me. 1) small Asian penis 2) the claws of a peacock (I got attacked by one years ago and I have a scar to prove it and 3) a centipede. I'm going to tell you about number 3... Let me set the mood here for you....it was a lonely Saturday evening, I decided to have a glorious bubble bath. Lit some candles, got out my iPad, loaded up Songza, chose a play list, likely something called '26 and single on a Saturday night...' I let the bath run, poured in some vanilla liquid soap, which was from the dollar store...I spare no expense when it comes to alone time....I slowly sink into the warm water. I lather up my right arm pit, and start to shave the grasslands that have formed...when all of a sudden a centipede fucking slithers out of the overflow drain....slitherssssss I say! My exact words as I vaulted out of the bath tub were 'holy sweet mother of fucking Christ....' I have never moved so quickly, my cardio for the week was complete after that mad dash out of the tub. As I stand there naked, I get my iPad and Google 'can centipedes swim?' The answer was no, so I decided to let that fucker drown, keep him in the tub for a few days as a warning to any other critters that wanna try to watch me bathe. Needless to say, this traumatized me, I refused to have a bath or shower for much longer than I care to admit, I walked around with one half shaved armpit for a week at least.  I will never be the same, having a 3 inch centipede that close to my vagina has traumatized me, much like the Asian penis did.... Everyone poops.... It's pretty apparent that I am single. It will be very apparent why I am single after this post. I would like to offer a public service announcement to people starting a relationship or in a new relationship, hell maybe it even applies to people who are in non-open minded relationships. Ok, here it goes. I'm going to talk about poop. I understand people don't really think poop and relationship talks go together. But hear me out. Okay guys, you know how women always order a light salad on your first dates? Well it's not because they are concerned about their waist lines, it's because they don't want to take the chance of ordering a creamy, cheese covered pasta entree and have to shit instantly on your first date. Years ago I was dating my first love, we spent every moment we possibly could together. But if we were together for 24 hours a day, how could I find time to drop a deuce without ruining the chance of him ever getting an erection around me again?! So I would pretend to have a shower but I would just take a quick poop then just wet my hair so it looked like I took a shower. There would be days I would have to poop sooooo badly I would have the sweats going on, I felt like I may throw up. And all he wanted to do was cuddle and I just wanted to cry from the gas bubbles polluting my insides. So finally, I couldn't take it, it was go time. I looked him right in his big brown eyes and said 'Baby, you love me unconditionally right?" Of course he responded with a yes, but he look scared and worried and asked 'Is everything okay? Did you...did you cheat on me or something?' At this point I was even paler than I normally am, ready to puke and poop all at the same time from the pressure happening in my body. I very slowly said "No...babe...I didn't cheat...but...buttt...well you know....I...umm...I have to poop...I poop, I don't know if you know that girls poop...but I need to...and I feel like I may die right now....so...." He looked at me like I was a fucking moron, he literally patted my head and said "You're so special, go poop babe.' I skipped to the bathroom and as I pooped I felt such a relief, not just in my bowels, but in my relationship...I could be comfortable around him and not have to worry about that part of life. Now, in the first couple weeks of relationships I give the guy the "Everyone Poops" book that parents read to their kids about pooping and potty training. And I have the talk with them, girls poop, so deal with it. So yea...I'm still single..... Saturday, August 10, 2013 Lee's lessons of love. Volume 1 I am without a doubt the worst person to offer anyone relationship advice. I date guys who are so young they don't know the movie 'Clueless', so young they still have a hangover from their 19th birthday, which was likely the day before, I find men attractive who have stutters because when we fight it takes him so long to get out his argument that I win every fight because his opinions are incomplete therefore invalid, I date men with a lack of personality because there is no way I can date a guy who will outshine me but then I get bored with them. I always think I want a serious relationship but then I forget that with a serious relationship comes compromise and understanding, two things I don't fully comprehend. How can I date someone and let them use my good towels when they dry off their filthy hooves, or let them drool all over my comfy pillows which each have their very own designated spot in my perfectly arranged OCD bed? Although I am obnoxiously impossible and stubborn, I find the joy and love in the simplest of things when it comes to relationships. I doubted that love was real for awhile, that it was a fictitious emotion or event in one's life. Until the simplest moment happened many months back. I was dating a guy, things were good, but he was the type of guy to come over unannounced. I don't do well with that concept, at all. So there I am sitting on my couch, pantless (if I'm home alone pants are never apart of the equation), I'm watching Discovery Channel, I was really into the documentary on poisonous frogs, I was elbow deep into a bag of zesty Doritos, no makeup, nappy pony tail sprawled out on the top of my head, when all of a sudden my door opens and my boyfriend of like 2 weeks frolics in and stares at me. I sit there dumb-founded, super embarrassed covered in Dorito dust, looking like honey boo boo's mom. I wanted to die, the golden rule is you do notttt let the guy you are just starting to date see you in such a ridiculous state. Too make it worse, I'm pale as fuck so when I blush, this paper white powdery skin glows like a neon sign outside of a rub n tug. What happens next was the most romantic thing ever, this action made me think true love does exist....this guy takes off his pants, plops down next to me grabs the bag of chips, grabs the biggest,sloppiest handful of delicious Doritos and gives er hell. We enjoyed this special moment...pantless, covered in the glorious crumbles of artificial cheese flavoured corn chips. That right there kids is what you don't read about in Disney stories, but that, that is love. Friday, August 9, 2013 And then there were 8! I had a decent sleep, woke up to the birds chirping and the sun shining. I crawl out of bed at 5:50 am, go to the bathroom to wash my face; may I add that this face is full of acne because it can't make up its mind if I'm young enough to still have acne or old enough to have crow's feet, anywhoooo, I wash my face, and apply a moisturizer and look at the mirror and notice 2 of my super sassy fly ass press on nails are missing! I dig thru my makeup bag and find some extras and sit there on the toilet and glue them on so I don't look like too much of a hood rat walking around with 8 fabulous nails and 2 stank ass looking nails. I go on a mission to find the 2 nails that fell off in my sleep. I look every where, they weren't anywhere in my bed or surrounding area. I shrug it off and rehearse what I would say to a male sleep over buddy if he randomly found it in my bed at a later date. I go back to the bathroom and do my makeup and attempt to brush my hair. Now, for anyone who doesn't know me or doesn't know much about me. My hair is a nappy, tangly, matted to all hell and a bitch to brush, so I take the chump's way out and just don't brush it. But...today is Friday so I'm gonna go all out and brush at least the top layer. In the midst of brushing this rat's nest I hear a cling clang in the sink..I look down and what do I see? A matted black with gold tip super sassy hellllla fly press on nail! My fucking hair ate it in my sleep! My hair is always consuming things, it's like it likes to hoard objects! So if one was in there, the other one was in there too! If there is one thing I know about my hair, it likes to collect things in pairs-like it is Noah's Ark or some shit. I dig thru the nap to find the buried treasure and sure enough, there it was, the second nail! Keep it classy bitches. Thursday, August 8, 2013 By popular demand...a pic of my ghetto fab press on nails! All the single ladies.... I don't really know how Beyonce thinks she has the right to make a song about single ladies, and make it empowering and enchanting like it's a fucking victory being single. No where in her song does she talk about how slim your pickings are if you are a single lady nearing your 30s. Let me tell you the sad reality which is my life. The men I get hit on by typically have some mysterious stain on their shirts, let's categorize that by putting it in the 'blatant disregard for hygiene' category. The next most common trait...men with not a damn tooth in their mouth. Is it worth it for me to take this toothless bird under my wing and put him on my benefits package and get him a grill? Am I getting that desperate? Men in wheelchairs adore me, now this isn't that big of a deal. Dating a man in a wheelchair isn't so bad...when we fight and he tries to stroll away, I can just put a stick in his wheel and yell "WHERE YOU GOING huh?" I will win every fight. So we can look at that as an advantage. Now let's talk about past dates I've been on. *If you are my Mother or Father please skip this section, pretend like this is a choose your own adventure book and you just skip to the next paragraph*. Years ago I went on a date with a very handsome man, a tattoo artist. Funny guy, charming, just enough sass to keep me on my toes. We go for a date at a local pub and order wings, we decide on getting a mix of hot and suicide wings. Dude proceeds to tell me he likes it when a girl eats hot sauce then sucks his man parts. He said it added 'a flare'. What.the.fuck. Why would anyone disrespect Franks Red Hot sauce like that? Bitch, I DO NOT put that shit on everything including your god damn dick. Okay, on to a more recent date. This very nerdy man asked me out on a date, at the time he asked me out he was paying me for my services....noooo, I'm not a hooker, he was paying for his meal at the restaurant I used to work at. So he was paying, and he was at the 'tip amount' screen of the debit payment....wellll fuck, I can't say no or he will tip me terribly. So, I agree to go on the date with this lil hermit. Days later we meet up for a coffee, he paid for it, so that's nice to get a free coffee. I'd like to start off by saying he is a very nice, funny, insanely intelligent mechanical engineer....I'd like to continue on by saying he had THE smallest girl hands I've ever seen. The chances of him having a big ol penis was slim to none, realistically. The thought of his petite hands feeling me up made my vagina close right up like a Venus flytrap. How can someone with such small hands even get the full effect of my obnoxiously large white girl ass? So, that being said, I ended the date with a 'I will keep in touch...' Moral of the story is, fuck you Beyonce....don't glamour the idea of being a single lady. It's not all 'oooo oo ooooo now put yo' hands uppppp' for us single bitches. The reality is we sit in the corner with our bag of Cool Ranch Doritos and try not to cry at the thought of the men we are left to choose from. As I am... For years friends and family have marvelled in the ridiculousness that is my life. Now, I will share it with the world! I sit here telling myself I will not have regrets about what I blog about, but so far I have one small regret...why the hell did I decide to blog the day after I had a hood rat moment and applied press on nails?! Yea, I said it, press on nails...but they are matted black with gold tips, my inner Shanniqua couldn't resist the temptation. For those of you who have me on Facebook know that my inner Shanniqua is mourning the loss of my black BabyPhat purse whose strap broke recently. Since I don't have the money to purchase a new weave to please Shanniqua, a set of $11.99 ghetto certified press on nails will have to do. That being said they are a bitch to type with! I'd like to start off by stating a disclaimer or two about this blog, if I offend you I'm sorry (and by 'sorry' I do mean that I'm sorry your opinion isn't welcome here), if you see a story on here that you question may or may not be about you...well it probably is, and if you think about suing me...best of luck to ya, the only valuable things I have in my possession are my 18" nappy hair extensions, passwords to numerous porn sites, and 14 different makeup products to create the fiercest eyebrows ever. This blog will contain my opinions, stories, rants, hopes, dreams, and the obnoxious thoughts that swim around in my brain! To my friends and family, this is for you and your entertainment! Most of you have listened to my comedic styles for years, if not decades! I hope this blog provides you with the Leanneisms you need to live a happy and fulfilled life. To my mother, I apologize. I know when you first held me as a new born baby fresh from your womb you didn't envision your little baby girl having the personality of a drunken truck driver, for that I am sorry. I would like to thank you for not letting me listen to Alanis Morrisette when I was younger because she was 'too foul', it was at that moment I searched for other music and I discovered Wutang Clan who taught me more swear words than Alanis ever could.  My vocabulary blossomed. To the hipsters of the world, who think it's cool to wear tacky reading glasses. Where the fuck were you when I was 11, an insecure preteen who had to wear glasses because I was blind as shit? Why didn't you make it cool back then? Huh?! To the Universe, thank you for always sending the weirdest human beings in my direction. I always have something to laugh about, and to now blog about. Keep those freaks coming my way! As for the youngin's and the sensitive bitches out there, this will be an uncensored blog with grown up tales, you have been warned! That being said, I am off to start writing blog entries! Subscribe to: Posts (Atom) Blog Archive ▼  2013 (36) ▼  August (16) ►  Aug 08 (3) As I am... All the single ladies.... By popular demand...a pic of my ghetto fab press... ►  Aug 09 (1) And then there were 8! ►  Aug 10 (1) Lee's lessons of love. 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There are two things I am sure of one being that I'm an asshole, there is no need to question that. And the other is that National Geog... This PSA is brought to you by.... I had a few ideas for my next blog entry until I saw a few things today that set me riiiiight off and I had to interrupt my thought process ... Thank you for shopping at Walmart..... Did you know at Walmart they sell opinions? Yea, I didn't know that either until I went there tonight to buy some stuff and got the opin... 3 inches of vengeance There are 3 things that are all 3 inches long that have come WAY to close too my body and they have all traumatized me. 1) small Asian penis... The day we were no longer virgins...she said VS. He said This is going to come as a surprise to some of you, but I am not a virgin. I know right? I just blew your minds.I thought it would be intere... Da Baby Boom of 2014! It seems like this long, cold winter has caused quite the baby boom, it seems as though everyone has had a baby or is pregnant. I guess that... Autocorrect,you cock blocking son of a bitch. As if being single isn't hard enough, us single people have to contend with many variables that keep us single. Such as, the friend in t... I'm in an abusive relationship....with my uterus. My uterus is angry today. She didn't even want me to write in the blog today, I had to bribe her with a white chocolate Kit Kat for her ... Wax on, wax off. One of the many trials and tribulations of being a woman is that we need to make the decision on how our vagina looks. Do we want it to be n... A Mother's love My mom is a kind hearted person, very loving, understanding and has sure put up with a lot of my antics over the years. Although she is a lo... Followers Powered by Blogger.