Bumper Stickers Are To Tattoos As ______ Is To Flying Toaster Octopus?

Yesterday I was walking to my car and I noticed these two bumper stickers stuck to the rear end of an old, white, Saturn in my work’s parking garage.
I actually noticed the one that just says “Twilight” before the other. My first thought was, “Oh is there a 14 year girl working here?” which gave way to, “I didn’t know this was also the parking lot for Hot Topic.” But, it’s the other that I think is truly horrible. “I drive like a Cullen”. Really old, white, Saturn? Why not have a bumper sticker that says, “I drive like a glittery virgin” or maybe “I drive fast so teenage girls think I’m dangerous and I’m creepily over protective of my girlfriend so teenage girl’s dads think I’m dangerous”.

Then I got to thinking about my own car how I have no bumper stickers on Yolanda’s (my car’s name) bumper. See I have this theory that bumper stickers are like tattoos, I’ve always kinda wanted one but I could never commit to something that permanent. Also lots of people have them on their cars but I only like maybe 15% of the ones I see.

So, now I have to wonder if the driver of that old, white, Saturn is this lady.

So let’s dig deeper into this comparison.

Case 1: The Funny Bumper Sticker
I like this. Every time I see this stuck to some Jetta or Civic I smile. This is one of those bumper stickers that I might buy if I was randomly looking at one of those displays of bumper stickers that rotate near the register of some local store if I had just come from happy hour and thus okay with spending 8 dollars on a sticker I know I’m not actually going to stick anywhere. If I was a teenage girl and if all my furniture growing up wasn’t antiques I would stick it to my bedroom’s vanity mirror. It’s funny. So is this guy’s tattoo… I like Harry Potter and I like old school Nintendo and Mario Brothers. Plus the fact that Mario is dressed in the raccoon suit is awesome because if you’re playing Mario 3 you totally want that raccoon suit. But, just like “Republicans Vote for Voldemort” I’m not permanently attaching an Italian dude dressed like a raccoon to my neck… or my car.

Case 2: The Long Worded Bumper Sticker
I get it. Whoever would put this on their car is trying to be funny or maybe ironic, but then again I don’t get it. Because after the first line I’ve stopped reading and I’ve moved on with my life and gone back to watching the street while driving and because it wasn’t funny or mean or sad or just really random I’ve completely forgot about your bumper sticker. So what’s the point?

I about died when I saw this tattoo because unlike the bumper sticker above, I will never forget this tattoo. So many things come to mine when I see this.

One, YOU CAN’T HAVE A BIBLE VERSE AS A TRAMP STAMP!!! I mean I get that I’m not the most religious person out there, but even I know that God and Jesus and Elizabeth Taylor aren’t going to just step aside and let you into Heaven when you are standing outside the pearly gates because you turn around, lift up your Abercrombie shirt, pull your Juicy sweatpants down, and bend over. FAIL.

Two, this is the Bible verse I (and every other little sister) had to read at my sister’s wedding (and ever other sister’s wedding). I happen to be horrible at reading out loud. I always read to fast and skip words or make up words and pronounce other words incorrectly. I hate doing it. So, of course my sister tells me the day before her wedding that I have to stand up in front of all her guests and then read this particular verse. On the day of the wedding I panic midway through and completely lose my place in the passage and skip/make up half the “loves is…” of 1 Corinthians 13.

Three, who actually reads this tattoo in its entirety? If someone comes up to me and wants to show me their tattoo and it turns out to be this, I’d be all, “Love is Patient. Love is kin… oh that’s a cool tattoo I guess…” Your body is not a Kindle. Cut it down in size people. Besides couldn't this girl have saved a whole lot of money, space on her body, and vastly reduces the amount of pain she went through by just getting 1 Corinthians 13 tattooed instead of the whole verse?

Case 3: Being Scary
Here we have a little difference between the bumper sticker and the tattoos. The bumper sticker just announces to the world and other highway travelers that yes, you should be freaked by the presences of my monster truck because yes, I am terrifying. While the tattoos are just that… terrifying.
(I don’t think this one needs more explanations…)

Case 4: Drinking is AWESOME Bumper Stickers
Don’t get me wrong, I LOVE DRINKING. Give me the option between and fresh healthy smoothie and a giant 3000 calorie Margarita and I’ll take that tequila concoction any day. But, drinking and driving… not so awesome. Can you just imagine having this sticker on the back of your car and pulling up at a red light between a car with a MADD bumper sticker and one of those white crosses covered with fake flowers on the side of the road. Wouldn’t you feel like a jack ass?

You know what else isn’t cool. Drinking and tattooing.
Girl readers, have you ever done your make up a little buzzed then gone out and someone took your photo only to past it on Facebook the next day? Then when you look at it and right before you “untag” yourself you have to wonder why you ever thought fake eyelashes were a good idea and who talked you into the bright pink sparkly lipstick? Up that feeling like by 1000 when you drink and tattoo.

Case 5: All Over Bumper Stickers
Just like when I’m stuck in crazy, rush hour traffic I want to be behind this car, if the second coming of the Great Depression happens I want to be stuck behind this guy in the five hour line for apples and bread.

Case 6: Stupid, Dumb, and the WFT Bumper Sticker
Sometimes words aren't needed. What more can I add to a bumper sticker that says "vagina full of centipedes"? Just like what more can I say about this tattoo...

Oh, and this is the only thing I have on my car. I figure because it’s silver and shinny it’s more like jewelry than a tattoo…

Because One West Side Story Post Just Isn't Enough and KILLER CUPCAKE!!!

Yesterday I wrote about my trip to the theatre with LSU Friend and Cupcake to see West Side Story and posted this photo.

It was taken with my old iPhone that has no flash.

This photo was taken with Cupcake’s newer iPhone that has a flash.


As I was writing the post yesterday I texted Cupcake asking her to send me the photo taken on her camera because I knew it turned out better and readers; I only want the best for you. Well, being that Cupcake actually has a life at work being and nurse and finishing grad school and whatnot she didn’t get around to sending it to me until last night. I then get the following text messages from LSU Friend.

(I’m the sane one writing in green.)
Yeah… what???

Oh, and can we go back to the picture for a second. This is the photo LSU Friend is thinks is cute enough to thank me for sending it to her (even though really Cupcake did) by using some weird, 5 year old, Baton Rouge dialect of English. LSU Friend and I are staring at something off to the side and Cupcake, sitting front and center, looks like she is half alien with her evil green eyes and she might just jump out of the picture and devour you whole with her EXTREMELY white teeth. Nom. Nom. Nom.

Apologies and Photos Of Shoes, Bacon Alcohol, and Jorts...

Yeah, yeah, yeah… bad Lemon Lady. Bad blogger. I get it.

Moving on…

My iPhone's Photo Album: Round 2
(see Round 1 HERE)

A few weeks ago Cupcake, LSU Friend and I went to go see West Side Story at UT’s Bass Concert Hall. After chugging the last of our wine from dinner, we raced from the car, ran across three blocks of campus, stopped momentarily at the doors to have our tickets scanned and gawk at a woman who wore an acid washed denim vest with acid washed denim jeans and high top sneakers to the theatre, and then climbed four flights of stairs to our cheap seats up top. Completely out of oxygen (was it scaling the numerous steps or the extreme altitude of being so high up in the audience) and panting, we took our seats just as the curtain was lifted up and the Sharks and Jets started “fighting”.

Can I pause just a moment here to talk about West Side Story in general… I’ll be honest, it wasn’t my favorite. Somehow the act of dancing around and snapping just didn’t do it for me. This coming from a girl who LOVES Starlight Express so much I posted a video of it a few weeks back. I mean I totally believe those British actors on roller skates are trains. I do not, however, believe that sashaying around and executing perfect double turns equals gang fighting in New York. Sorry, but I just don’t buy it. Also, do you think that part of the audition is being able to snap? Like do you think all the actors have to perform a perfect split leap arabesque, sing a solo like… well insert famous Broadway actor here, and then stand in the middle of an empty stage and snap to the lone director in an empty theatre. “What? You can perform fortes all night but can’t snap? Get out of my sight!” Reason 4,528 why I want a new iPhone - better camera with a flash!

The earliest Halloween I can remember my mom dressed my up as Rainbow Bright. I found these shoes at DSW in case I ever want to create and adult version of that look.

And just because I have the coolest, greatest, most awesome dog ever…

This past weekend was all about Blood Marys. It started on Saturday when Boyfriend and I tried out Haddingtons on West 6th. They call themselves an “American Tavern with a British influence”. I could care less what pretentious title they give themselves because they have the mixologist from Fino, Bill Norris. His Bloody was light and smooth and crammed full of flavor. According to our waitress, who was very good, they create their own tomato juice daily. This place defiantly has made my top five Bloody Marys in Austin.

On Sunday I left Boyfriend at home to reseed the back yard and watch the dog, while I headed out with LSU Friend and Lil Blount to continue the Bloody round of Austin. Our first stop was Franks. Housed in the old Starlight building on 4th street the waitress from Haddingtons actually told me the day before that if I was in search of the best Bloody in town I needed to try Franks. Thank you random person I had never met before because OMG Franks Bloody Mary is a true glass of sunshine, rainbows, and designer shoes. I mean look at it. It’s called the Redheaded Stranger and we are strangers no longer. Made with bacon infused Dripping Springs Vodka (in my mind much better than Titos), their own Bloody mix, bacon, cheddar cheese, and comes with a Pearl Beer chaser. Oh, and did I mention that this giant glass of adult Heaven was half off… yeah it was.

Round two on Sunday Bar Chi, a Sushi Bar on Colorado St. It was made with Sake, which is what caught our eyes on the menu outside the restaurant. It was good, don’t get me wrong, but after Franks “infused with Bacon and probably Jesus tears” Bloody… well it was a lot to live up to. But, we sat outside on a nice patio so it was worth the stop. The Bloody Mary was on the small side, but it was also only 4 dollars.

The third Bloody of the day is one of my favorites in Austin. It is the Voodoo Queen from Reds Porch. Made from jalapeño pepper infused vodka and their own in house made mix it is SPICY! Spicy and delicious.

Then I had something called a Southern Peach which was alcohol, alcohol, more alcohol, and a splash of something peach. (Probably peach alcohol) Then I stopped drinking and started dreaming of a nap.

Oh, and while we were there we saw this guy in his AMAZING jorts.

Embarrassing Burned Boob Story: Round Two...

Do y’all remember the story I wrote a while back about burning my left boob with my curling iron and then hanging out with my new boyfriend instead of going to the hospital? Well I always meant to write a second chapter to that tale…

When I was a freshman in college I lived with Wesley and he had a friend named Chris who would come over and hang out at the house. One day Wesley, Chris, Kenny, Robby, and I all went to Jims for breakfast. (Jims being a local 24 hour diner) It was right after Wesley and I began living together so it was nice and hot in the Texas heat and I was wearing a little halter top and shorts.

Anyway, we were seated in a round booth and after we all ordered our food I noticed Chris kept staring at my chest. After a few minutes I totally called him out on it.

Me: “Chris! Stop staring at my boobs!”

Everyone else at the table: “Hahahahahahah!!!”

Chris (turning very red): “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I really am sorry, but are you okay?”

Me: “I’d be a lot better if I knew I could eat in peace without having you droll over my lady lumps.”

Chris: “No, really… What happened?”

Me: “What do you mean what happened? Stop leering at me, man.”

Chris: “Are you okay? (Pointing at my left boob) There I mean. Are you okay?”

Me (looking down): “Oh! You mean my scar?”

Chris: “It looks pretty bad. Did you hurt yourself?”

Wesley: “You never heard the story of Lemon Lady’s scarred boobie?”

Chris: “No. What happened?”

Wesley: “Well this one day in Ger…”

Me: “I HAD A BREAST IMPLANT!”

Wesley, Robby, and Kenny: “snicker snicker…”

Chris: “Oh… wait. Breast implant? Breast? Singular? As in only one?”

Me: “Yes, my left tata just never grew like the other so as a graduation gift my parents paid for me to get one implant to even things out.”

Wesley: “Yeah, and man, she’s kinda self conscience about it, so stop staring and bring it up.”

Chris: “Oh, Lemon Lady. I’m so sorry. I mean I never knew. No one told me. (turning to the other boys) You guys should have told me!”

Three years later when I lived in Austin and that same group of people came to see me and go out downtown, we finally let Chris in on the fact that no, I didn’t have one boob implant and both my breasts are natural. He got angry and threatened to leave the bar unless we fed him large amounts of vodka. We obliged.