Real Housewives, hungover yoga and paranormal stuff here

I was up late watching Housewife crap and I can't even keep these shows straight anymore. Lissa was asleep upstairs, I could hear her snoring. Annoying. I hadn't been to bed in three days and nights. I get that way sometimes and it's terrible. Lack of sleep makes me goofy, plus, the kids gave me this lung muck and all I could do was accept the insomnia and get on with it. Bravo was running the housewife crap over and over, so I caught up. I was also watching Tori and Dean (what the fuck does she see in him??) and the damn Duggars (future breeders episode), and Little Women. Which is not Louisa May Alcott. Oh, no. It's dwarfs in bikinis. Which only showed me that little people are just as stupid as normal sized people. I know all this is confusing. Think how I felt.

So, the real housefraus of NYC are just as crazy and gross as ever. They all got drunk and then got up the next day to do fucking yoga. All hungover and looking like old white dog shit piles, they couldn't get it together. Legs spread and farting, killing the grass around them with the fetid booze gas coming from their lippod bungholes. HERE's a clip. It's disgusting.

I snapped. These women think they're so much better than any of us, and yet there they are, for the entire world to see with their old snatches hanging out, passing gas and dripping diamonds. I got totally disgusted and I have a habit of talking to myself (not loud) and I flipped the tv off and said, 'Bunch of retarded, no class, fugly plastic whores.' Lissa started busting up upstairs. She was laughing like a hyena. I said, wtf? You were asleep, I heard you snoring. She said, that wasn't me.

I said, to myself, yeah sure. I told her to go back to sleep, housewives was done in our house. (nasty women.) So, after awhile, it got quiet again and I tried to induce sleep by inner hypnosis. You know, like, go to sleep, GDammit, go to sleep, go to sleep, go to sleeeeeeeeeep! I couldn't. Every time I thought I might drift off, I could hear the kid sneaking around upstairs. I could hear her walking and moving stuff. I yelled up there, 'go to sleep!'. She yelled, 'That's not me!' Then she came flying down the stairs, scared out of her mind. WTF? I told her to sit in the recliner and relax and we just listened. Sure enough, the footsteps and movements continued, only this time we were looking at each other. It wasn't us and it was even louder.

She said, see, I told you it wasn't me! I asked her if she was fake snoring earlier and she said no. So, I told her I believed her, because I did. Then I said, 'I thought it was coming from upstairs, but, it's not. It's down here with me.' She flipped out and ran upstairs. I started laughing. I could see her up there covering her head with a blanket. It WAS downstairs though. I told 'it' I had had enough and everybody living or dead in this house had better shut their face. The house got quiet and a couple hours later, I actually got a little sleep. The first in three days. It wasn't much but even a couple of hours helps. Goddamn noisy ghosts piss me off. So do gross fake housewives who think they're better than me. Those nasty women.

Oh, and the OC bitches have two new bitches and they all had a hoe-down. I can't even stand the joke possibilities of that. Hoe down. Riding mechanical bulls in dresses with their old wrinkled hoo ha's out and making filthy sex jokes in front of their children. Wearing cowpoke crap that cost more than my house and will be thrown away the next day. Ukkk. They made me sick too. Nasty women.

Oh, and a daytime party is NOT a good idea, ladies of the OC. Daylight is NOT your friend. That was scary. Nasty women.