where my discomfort is your entertainment

Forgive me Father, for I have sinned. It has been almost a month since my last confession blog entry. I looked at my last offering and thought, “Has it really been that long?”. Why yes Ivonne, it totally has. I can’t say it hasn’t been for good reasons though, one of which I will share with you now.

It is nothing new when I mention that I have been having weird abdominal pain that up until now has gone unexplained. Last week alone was a real winner where I spent a day starving and prepping for a colonoscopy and endoscopy. Look, I just turned 40 and getting a screening is good thing anyway and if you are doing one, might as well take advantage and get the other done. You just have to stay on top of that kind of stuff. Anyway, they have been trying to out-rule all kinds of stuff when it comes to my medical maladies and camera hoses were the last step. If talk about shit and anal probing makes your butthole quiver, this is where you exit.

If you have never had to have either of these tests let me tell you, the tests themselves? Cakewalk. You’re nicely drugged up and don’t recall any of the shame of being in room with many people watching as they put a hose up your ass. The worst part of it all is really the day before where you are confined to your house, starving and shitting water. The whole process is kind of embarrassing. One wrong move and you’re sharting… YES I SAID IT. Don’t act like these kinds of things don’t happen to us all, they totally do. Everybody poops.

I can handle the pipe cleaning ritual, whatevs. But not eating for 24 hours? That was a whole other level of hangry – so much so that I refused to make dinner, kicked my husband and kid out of the house so they could go eat in peace and not have to look at my bitter, Oswald Cobblepot mug, staring at the food I could not have. No really, I am pretty sure I made this face when Reza started talking about dinner….

Screen Shot 2015-01-27 at 11.05.14 AM

You have to take all this over the counter poop provoking juice, they tell you that you can have certain juices, specific colors and the consolation prize was you could drink clear Ensure, but only the peach flavor. Barf. When you’re starving it’s like the last Saltine on the Island, but only under those circumstances cause let me tell you, it’s revolting and how anyone drinks that shit of their own accord is incomprehensible to me. So, so gross.

The next morning I suited up in my finest 666 print knee highs, Josh dropped me off and I was turned into a lab rat. I was lucky enough to get the nurse who likes to give Lidocaine at the site before she impales your hand with an IV. I hate IV with a passion. They also put me in this fancy gown that hooks up to a heater hose from the wall. Whoever invented that shit deserves a medal because hospitals are ice boxes and when your ass is hanging out, trust me, that hose of hot air is your new best friend.

Once I was fully admitted, poked, vitals checked, they wheeled me back to the Room Of Orifice Doom. This is where I was all kinds of not happy. Imagine that you are starving and you’re wheeled past a table that has pie. You see said pie (see above photo again^). Then the nurses are talking about said pie and hoping there is still some left by the time they’re done with you. BITCHES. Give me the drugs so I can forget about these awful hunger pains NAO! “Ok Ivonne, we are gonna make you sleepy”…

I would love to be able to give you the gory details of how it all went down, or up in this case? Ha! But the truth is, I was so happily passed out I remember very little of it. I may have woken up mid ass probing but my memory is vague. It’s probably for the best. I do remember my Dr. saying “all done” and coming by to say hi in recovery. I kind of wished I had asked for copies of my photos like Josh did when he got his. No, really, he has copies of photos from the inside of his ass. They were his Facebook profile photo for a while. It was the least they could do after they paraded a whole troop of female students in to watch his anal invasion.

Josh picked me up a couple hours later, got me home and I slept like the dead. I was so doped out I didn’t even think about food. Then I woke up to pho. Amen and amen.

search term hilarity

In this edition I bring you another round of the search terms people used that somehow brought them to my blog…

east coast vagina cemetary
diy padded bra
what should i wear in 70 degree weather
cheeks falling out of shorts pics
hippie peanut butter logos
my huge tits get me out of a speeding ticket
pussy hanging out of shorts
jack black butter
girl pulling wire from a bra
dont let the pale skin fool you
Does a banana shake turn into pee or poop
rasta santa
boobs hanging out window
a beautiful drawing picture on the change you want to see in the world
newspaper ink makes me vomit
fucking in the bra factory

Without fail there is always one asking for ass cheeks hanging out of shorts. It’s the #1 leader to my blog and it’s funny cause they click over only to find me and my cat photos. HAHAHAHHAAH.

search term hilarity

Amongst all the legit search terms such as “beans and ink”, I like to jot down the hilarious and ridiculous terms people enter that somehow led them to my blog. Here are the most recent gems.

babes with ass cheeks hanging out of shorts pics
(^this one is a repeat offender – people sure love their ass hanging out of shorts let me tell you)
i have huge jugs
stop looking at my boobies
tits crying after fight with bra
justin bieber knows a girl named yvonne
my boobs don’t fit, funny pictures
pictures of pussy hanging out shorts
pointy missile breasts
busier than a telephone sex line
big tit wife marked with ink
east coast pussy pix
ass in spandex
does a banana and peanut butter make you poop

Tits crying after fight with bra. Yes, you read that right. If you ever want a bunch of hits on your site, just write about boobs, oh and ass cheeks hanging out of shorts.

search term hilarity

In this edition of of “the things people type and end up on my website”, I bring you the newest and best of the best. (the spelling and lingo is not mine… I know how to use “there” and “their”)

you east coast people are a bunch of pussies
pics of ladies with those shorts were there butcheeks hang out
a good response to cool story bro
girls butt cheeks hanging out in school pics
home is wherever i’m with you
home is wherever i’m with you tattoo
Pissende+kids (<--- you sick fuckers, DIAF ) pisende+girls waxing vagoo my sister gave me a rubdown video rimjob bicycle club fuckin girl in mexico ivonne hogging blankets home is wherever i'm with you jack in the box all i see is people complaining, its fucking frustrating And my personal favorite for this round: ivonne shameless. Why yes, I am shameless. Thanks!

And men, women, you sure love your shorts with the ass hanging out photos. Cochinos!

But yes, people really love “home” by Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros. I get a lot of searches for “home is wherever I’m with you” and it’s because of this song. Heard it?

I got to say though, the Jorge & Alexa version is my favorite.

happy Saturday!

search term hilarity

these are some of the gems that have shown up on my statistic logs as terms people have used and have ended up at my blog. Amongst things like the usual “Ivonne” and “beans and ink”, I have kept a list of some of the better ones for your personal enjoyment. So without further ado:

how to make pesto with ninja
product whore
festival of booths jesus
naked dumpies
old rastafarian
young dumpy girls, naked
“left my vibrator out”
picture of school girls with butt cheeks hanging out
cover stealing, sleep talking, snoring boyfriend
pictures of butt cheeks hanging out of shorts
philly street prostitution
where are the hookers in Philadelphia
young girly girls rules
snow white hanging herself
when should you go to voodoo donuts to not wait in line
where does everyone get these “cool story bro” hoodies
shops that have cool story bro
pissende lungs
well then fuck me in the ass

and my personal favorite: ivonne my dirty friend from Mexico

cool story bro.

Yesterday Reza and I hopped on the train that headed out to Atlantic City and went on a little adventure. Being cooped up in a hotel room is the last thing either one of us needs but the weather here has been on and off rainy, stormy and at around 12 pm the skies parted and it was pouring. It eventually let up and with rain gear in tow, off we went to the train station.

It takes about an hour to get from where we are to Atlantic City and it was a relatively smooth ride. One thing I have is that I am *SPOILED* by having been on the shinkansen in Japan, so anything train wise pales in comparison really. Either way it was adventure time.

We arrived in AC about 3, Josh got off of work at 5 so we had a couple hours to walk around and kill. AC is a trip, it’s like Vegas + Venice Beach had a love child and dropped it on the East Coast, just with a lot weirder people and not in the good weirdo kind of way.

The train station is blocks away from an area called The Walk, which is like a giant, outdoor, outlet mall but it’s spread across several city blocks.

I was pleasantly surprised in this regard cause there are tons of stores I would shop at. Reza had a field did in the Disney Store. Thing is, walk a tap north and the area goes from cool to seedy in two blocks flat. I don’t mind seediness, I got an umbrella in hand and I will whack you if you get too close.

We were headed to Josh’s office but decided that the Boardwalk was a necessity, Reza wanted to see the ocean, and hell, so did I.

Growing up on and very near the Pacific, you take your perspective of ocean for granted. I have always felt like I needed to be near a major body of water, it grounds me and in ways I am grateful to still be close to the sea. The Atlantic is totally different, it’s dark, its beaches have grass… weird for me. The East has been dealing with major storm action the past couple of days so as picturesque as the sky was, it also makes everything look so dull and dreary.

The beach in Atlantic City is nasty. There I said it. The sand was filthy and there was a lot of trash everywhere. I am sure there are other parts of the coast that are beautiful but the idea of anyone bathing there skeeved me out.

I did seriously underestimate the entertainment value of the boardwalk though. Wow. We were only there for about 20 minutes, if that, and the photographic gold was just… yeah. It’s much like Venice Beach in ways… tourist attractions, clothing and souvenir shops and one too many tattoo establishments I would never let come at me even if it was free. Anyway, without further ado, I bring you photographic evidence..

ass writing, spandex abusing offenders in their natural habitat

speaking of ass writing… how about some shorts that barely cover said ass. let me tell you, the people I have seen wearing shorts this short have *zero business* being in them. I had a hard time choosing my favorite, I think it’s between “flirt that skirt cheerleader” and “playette”.

And seriously, I wish I was making this up, but I really don’t see why some asses need wings but here, apparently think they DO! Picture this, if you can see through those pants on the mannequin, imagine on a person, yeah? Good times. The fact this kind of stuff is even made means someone out there is wearing it. Wow.

Nothing says “comfort” like going to the beach in heels and barely there skirts. The funny thing is homegirl in the coral, in her bad tan lined-VPL glory gave ME the stare-down like I was the one who was doing it wrong. OH. OK.

Time ran out for us and we had to walk over to Josh’s office so we could head home. I was kinda sad about my poor planning, had I known there was gonna be so much eye candy to take in, I would have headed out to AC earlier. Oh well, can’t blow my load all in one day, right? We need to go back sometime before the summer is over, Reza saw the amusement park area and we promised we would bring her back.

The Atlantic City Expressway is actually a nice drive. Very picturesque, clad in trees all the way back into Camden County. I can imagine how amazing it is going to look in the fall. Tons of clouds everywhere cause of the storm, on the way back this weird formation was over the Philly skyline.

the rest of the pictures from yesterday can be viewed over on my flickr set

Moving Nightmares Vol. 2

Joy is finding the perfect house and getting beat to the punch. Shortly after we find several other contenders and they all end up being snagged as well. I really want to cry, in fact, I totally did!

But hey, why bore you with my “can’t find a place and movers will be here in a week” drama. Instead I’m going to entertain you with the eyesores I have found since my last installment.

Exhibit A: Jackson Pollack Nightmare. I cannot even begin to comprehend how someone thought this was aesthetic enough for a bedroom.


And then don’t get me started on how much people here love their wallpaper. We have seen some seriously cute houses but then you click to the next photo and you find shit like this…

Exhibit B: Tim Burton’s Cabin… Stripes and trees, the perfect combination!


Exhibit C: Floral Explosion!



Dear Universe,

I know this is your way of providing the funny in an otherwise stressful situation but at the very least let us find a landlord who will let us peel that shit off and paint a respectable color.


the waxing chronicles, part I

The only thing I have ever had professionally waxed is the ‘stache. Yes, I have a light ‘stache. Look, the Mexican heritage calls for a damn moustache 90% of the time, I am lucky I didn’t end up with front to back happy trails. There is some Turkish in there, I am counting my blessings.

I have always been pretty up front with the fact I find body hair repulsive. Save for my head, eyebrows and lashes, I want nothing to do with the rest. If I could walk into a machine that would make everything from the lip down fall off forever, I would do it in a heartbeat. It’s not about wanting to look pre-pubescent and if you want to have your 70’s porno bush, more power to you… it just isn’t my thang.

Anyway, a few weeks back I purchased a groupon for waxing services. It was a killer deal and hey, why the hell not. I decided I am braving a Brazilian and armpit job. The last time I tried to self wax the snatch was a catastrophe. It was stuck to me, I knew what was coming and I had no choice but to yank it off. I broke every capillary known to man. I ended up slaughtering the vagoo in ways that left it looking like some strange purple fruit of the Amazon that had been hacked open with a machete. Emotionally scarring!

So now I have been mentally and physically been gearing up for this… The jacked up part about waxing is you have to let things grow out for days (weeks even) in order to end up with a better result. You can only imagine how much I am cringing at the fact that I am having to sport some wild bush of the Kalahari along with hippie pits. So gnarly.

Anyway, there will be no before and after photos cause that shit just isn’t right. I have an appointment on Wednesday and I fully expect some serious hilarity to ensue. The idea of getting on my knees and spreading my ass for some stranger will only bring on the funny as far as I am concerned.

Stay tuned for Part II……