08 October 2012

Post #75

This past weekend I made the trek north to my family's cabin.  It's always a real treat, pine trees, cool weather, camp fire...and for this special trip?  Wasps!!!  A fucking ton load of wasps.  Delightfully different, in shape, size and color. All day Saturday and Sunday...

They're in my hair!!!

I have never been stung by a wasp, yet I am 100% sure I am deathly allergic.

My dad and uncle told me to calm the fuck down and I wouldn't get stung.  No can do.  A few cocktails later I had forgotten that the little shits even existed.  I followed this behaviour up with a lovely sunburn.  In any case, I still had a blast.  If you ever get the chance to sit around a fire pit with my dad and his brother?  Do so. Hanging out with grown men who think shitting their pants makes for good stories produces hours, if not minutes, of laughter.

Shits and giggles,

Katie E. Eshelman

04 October 2012

Post #74

So my house got broken into, which brought the cops to my yard and inside my home.  I got there ten minutes later but it was too late.  Let's just say as a new member of the break-in club I am more than willing to give some advice on what shit you should put the fuck away when you are not home as the "public eye"might take a gander without your consent...this crap left me wishing I had said list.

What was that?  Yes, I like to party...my wallet does not.  Shits.

It was for a costume dammit!

I have to delve deeper into this one..sts.  I went as a nudist on strike for Halloween last year and my sister thought it would be funny to have this on the opposite side of the strike poster.  I then figured it would be ironic and absolutely perfect to serve as a blocking device for Bitch Tits.  She is NOT allowed upstairs.  Boom. 

Fucking halloween costumes.  Yeah, turns out this is how the police
got ahold of me so fast.  Fucking brilliant!  I win at the game of life!


...let's just say it required batteries.

At least it wasn't a fireman,

Katie E. Eshelman

03 October 2012

Post #73

Last time I punched one of these out it was June.  So what the fuck happened from then until now?  Just a bunch of delightful things...stacked on top of a heaping pile of shit.

A synopsis of my 29th summer in Arizona:


My five year old computer took a dump and my back up file was corrupt!!!  Hooray!

Yeah, I don't think a further explanation as to why I have been absent from my blog needs to be given.  But hey, silver lining here folks.  We got a new shelving unit!   My dad was totally stoked because it was free...due to the fact that he picked it up off the side of the road.

Shelving unit?  He found a fucking, baby changing table.

"I stopped and tossed her in the truck." -Zach Eshelman   It's safe to say our new shelves probably have baby piss on them.  Well done dad, well done.


Burglarized!!!  Fuck yeah!

Bitch Tits:  Still trying to kill me.

Nightmares on top of nightmares.

I honestly have no clue where her blatant, unjustified, hostility stems from.

Drunk Purchases:  I would say right on par with where they should be. 

It's magical, she goes from Bitch Tits to Dick Head in less than a minute!

That about sums it up, life in general has handed me a shitload of downs this summer.  Yet, it also gave enough ups, booze, and football to keep it fun.  All that's left is for it to cool the fuck down!

Jeers and Cheers,

Katie E. Eshelman

28 June 2012

Post #72

With summer comes my "summer" attitude.  Zoshua should know to steer clear, but she's a cat and therefore incapable of comprehending this.  Yeah, shits not given.  I decided to formulate an "annoy the crap out of Bitch Tits and laugh my ass off" plan. After kicking around a bunch of ideas and her favorite toy (which is a fucking cellophane, cigarette wrapper) I concluded that she should wear a hat.  Not any hat would do, this hat had to be fabulous.  I found this...

Fancy as fuck.

Then, I discovered this piece of shit felt cost $45 goddamn dollars.  Ha!  That's not going to happen.  One trip to the online craft store later?

$8.43 and I nailed it.

Crafty as fuck,

Katie E. Eshelman

16 June 2012

Post #71

Cup of warm milk?

Yeah, give me a break.  The last thing I want if I can't sleep is almost curdled, tit liquid.  Nope.  I choose to flip on the TV and see if I can lull myself back into dream land.  Once again I fail.  I manage to tune into "Gangland: F-13"  This normally wouldn't be so bad...but at 3:30 in the am?  Not the best idea.  I know what you may be thinking, it's just a documentary.  You would be correct, the uneasiness lies in the commercials...

A vacuum for dicks and Dick...the pedophile.

Move over Viagra, there is a new tool in town.

I can't explain why, but I feel violated.  Wonder if ObamaCare covers this, as it IS covered by Medicare.  Although, I hardly think the President would ever use one...too many liberals sucking his cock to be needed.

I think I'll write in a candidate for this year's election.  "I'll Have Another" to win.  I believe this is fair.  If people are allowed to vote for a jackass, I should be allowed to vote for a horse.

America, fuck yeah!

Katie E. Eshelman

10 June 2012

Post #70

My dicktard neighbor decided to pimp out his jalopy by installing an exhaust pipe that can be heard from outer space. I have yet to SEE it, but I imagine it must look a whole lot like this...

Let me play you the song of my people...at five o'clock in the fucking morning!!!

Needless to say, I am up at an hour that should be reserved for truck stop hookers and crack whores.  I'm quite certain you can tell from my attitude that I need more beauty sleep.  So thanks asshole, I am awake and need something to occupy my time.  TV?  Sure.  HBO Movie?  Checks. 

What has been seen can not be unseen.

I mean you have got to be shitting me...I am now incapable of going back to sleep, have my .45 by my side, and will have to seriously rethink eating meat (sts) ever again.  If this makes no sense to you?  Google the fucking movie.

Oh what the hell, I'll make it easy for you:

Katie E. Eshelman

06 June 2012

Post #69

Holy shit.

The big 29.  The last of my twenties is upon me.  Today?  I have already purchased a ticket to San Francisco for a football game and accomplished not a single fucking thing at work.  I think this year I will strive to do a bunch of crazy/stupid shit (okay crazier and more unintelligent shit) as I've done pretty damn well with the sensible crap the past nine years.

I'm off to a running start...

How to get your checking account frozen one message at a time.

Sarcasm is truly a gift.  Now, I must share this tiny bit of wisdom...

Age is just a number...

...until you turn thirty.

I am sure that the next year of my life will be an interesting one...that I promise to share.  

To my mom and dad doing the deed,

Katie E. Eshelman

24 May 2012

Post #68


It finally arrived!  I don't know how or why I come up with this shit (booze), but when I decide to do it...it shall be done.

Making my mom and pops proud since 1983.

I am officially happier than Wine Rack Bitch.

Code Red!  We have a bleeder.

Nurse, we are going to need fresh linens...that are right side-in.

To innovation and thinking outside the regular container.

Stoked for Monday,

Katie E. Eshelman

I sincerely thought that when I bought a Wine Rack for my sister and self that I had found the Holy Grail.

Look how happy she is!  I could be that happy.

On Monday the golden package arrived and Megan I quickly bee lined it to Circle K so we could buy ourselves some tester fluid.  Per usual, I didn't follow the instructions so it took me awhile but I finally adorned the sacred bra.  Worst. Invention.  Ever.  Ill fitting and all it managed to do was get the wine warm.  No solving this problem unless you are cold blooded or you drink it really fast...you can probably guess which route I took.  Whoops.  Therefore, I got pretty fucking drunk.  So much in fact I did this...

That's right.  I managed to break into my AT&T account, add Smart Limits, and effectively
block myself from dialing and texting from 10pm to 8am everyday...you just never know.

Mind you, this service is designed for parents who want to control when, how, and who their kids communicate with. Kudos intoxicated self, kudos.

As for the Wine Rack?  Since I knew I couldn't wear the damn thing nor hold it above my head like a beer bong (that takes way too much energy, I'm not in college anymore for fuck's sake), I had to come up with an alternative. Shipping it back would have been the smart move, so we all know that didn't happen.  This did...

Wine on wheels!

I have to go post this review on BaronBob.com so that's all for now.

Thankful for sensible boundaries,

Katie E. Eshelman

19 March 2012

Post #67

AT&T you are as dead to me as the phone I just had to turn off. Why? Because you can't seem to provide me wireless/cell phone/mobile service in my own home.  Unless of course, I touch the antenna of an am/fm radio, while directly facing the north west corner of my house, with one arm raised, and the other clutching a glass of wine (yes that is needed.)  Another solution is to move five feet from my property, thanks for the restraining order turds!

Glad you called me back! Maybe I missed those because you requested
I turn my phone off.  Or perhaps, I had a single bar of shat service!  Your
troubleshooting is as effective as a ten year old condom.
Also, thanks a million for that shit eating grin at the end of your text.  It makes up for everything!

Monday funday :D,

Katie E. Eshelman

12 March 2012

Post #66

There are times in life when you regret your decisions.  Whether it's that last Tequila shot or...hell, the first one. In my case?  Well, let's just say my mother has a key to my house.  She showed up at my place entirely way too early Saturday morning, walked up the stairs, opened my door...and scared the shit out of me.  Fucking headphones, I couldn't hear a goddamn thing.  A discussion and a decision to leave me be till lunch time was decided and she was on her merry way.  Until she saw this...

It was a "I'm not angry, I'm just disappointed..and quite curious" kind of conversation.

Well shits.  Kind of hard to explain to your mother that many, many years ago (oh alright, three) your Halloween costume was your own mugshot.  The word 'fuck' doesn't even cover it.  My only saving grace was the fact that I plead the fifth on my weight.  She found that decision very prudent.

Say cheese!

Katie E. Eshelman

21 February 2012

Post #65

Anger Management. A story in how I schooled myself.

Well, shits.  I learned a life long lesson this past week.  Throwing a purse that weighs a good five pounds, while angry, and trying to slam a door will cause nothing but a whole lot of pain.  I almost ripped the end of my finger off.  After a trip to the ER (where the on-call doctor would have rather treated a sheep with herpes than deal with me), a trip to my general practitioner who knows shit about hand wounds, and finally a trip to a hand surgeon (who I am still on the fence about), I was left with a cracked bone (yeah, not broken...cracked) and this:

What the fuck nurse!?  While your lanyard skills
are very impressive, I am not a Freshman in college who needs to keep
my one key and ID card in check.  

And let me just say, you can't drive with this soap-on-a-rope for shit! I mean I hit blinkers, lights, and windshield wiper settings I didn't even know I had.  Looked like my car was having a damn seizure.

I finally got home.  Where a gift from Amazon awaited.

Guess who's sister got a matching pair?!

That's right.  I figured since my hand will be out of commission for awhile, I can keep my feet warm and clean the floor all at the same time...and so can you Megan.  Get to steppin.

After that excitement wore off I realized that my finger was really starting to burn.  So I took the splint off.  And then it hit me...the crafty ass nurse dutifully fashioned my bandage into a:


The bird is the word,

Katie E. Eshelman

10 February 2012

Post #64

Superbowl Sunday.

Before I even started drinking...much, my sister and I decided it would be a fantastic idea to deep clean our fridge. Terrible fucking idea. Those shelves inside your Frigidaire?  Yeah, they are made of tempered glass.  As I gently cleaned the damn thing it decided to give up on life and explode in my hands.  Miniature pieces of devil ice everywhere!  I am confident that I will be pulling shards of that shelf out of the bottom of my feet till the end of time.  It kind of resembled this...


'Fffffuck....Shit"  (My sister's reaction was remarkably identical.)

Later that day, I drank like I was watching the game.  Turns out I chose not to watch the game at all.  Instead, I decided to purchase an absurd amount of "drinking mugs" off of Amazon. No fucking idea why, other than it seemed like a legit idea. 

It wasn't.

Bitch Tits pissed me off for no reason...aside from the fact that I am terribly allergic to her and got another bloody nose.  I decided to express my frustrations via a new dog tag.

"Love Your Pets"

Unfortunately, it didn't get here quick enough.  I thought my demands were pretty clear assholes! I felt it was an injustice.  So, I figured I would write them a stern letter that expressed my severe disappointment.  Turns out it was just a picture...

My work here is done.  

No animals were harmed so don't go ape shit on me.

'Snappy' means 'Now',

Katie E. Eshelman

21 January 2012

Post #63

What the fuck happened this week...

I got a call at work Friday afternoon from my mother.  I know, Earth-shattering news.  She wanted to know if I had something to tell her.  I was slightly confused until she asked if I was expecting.  Expecting what...??? Oh motherfucking no I am not.  Turns out a company called Similac decided to send this package to my parents house with my name on it...

I will be nourishing nothing of the sort.

I called Similac.  I told the dude on the other line that my parents were f-ing pissed and questioning my virginity, also asked how the hell they get off sending this shit to random people?!  He stuttered something incoherent and then told me that I was chosen from some fucked up database (my words not his) and I would be removed from it promptly. Thanks asshole. And holy hell mom, do you really think that is how I would tell you that I'm with child?  Okay fine, maybe I would.

Zoshua has a new arch nemesis.  Apparently, I have a cat cohort that is just as intent on screwing with Bitch Tits as I am.  I have decided to call it Gingy, that's short for Ginger.

"What the fuck is that?"

That's Gingy!!!
That damn cat sat on that lawn chair like a boss for a good hour or two.  Well played buddy, well played.

Since I have to work on this lovely Saturday I am going to cut this short.

Shits and giggles,

Katie E. Eshelman

17 January 2012

Post #62

Here's the deal.  My sister and I have spent our fair share of late nights singing, dancing, and creating enough noise to warrant a phone call to the police.  Our fun is innocent.  While it has come to my attention that some musicals should simply be watched and not mimicked, I continue to not give a shit.  From the sound of it our neighbor's fun might not be as pristine.  I have decided there are only three possible reasons which might explain the constant wall-banging noises coming from next door:

#1.  She is trying to wallpaper her place in finishing nails.
#2.  She is a nympho and/or a prostitute.
#3.  She is playing the most riveting game of  hands-on "knock, knock who's there?" in the history of time.

It better not be #2 woman.  We have a innocent cat over here with virgin ears.

That's right Bitch Tits, our neighbor might be an actual whore.

I'm not kidding about the whore thing.  Anytime someone knocks on our door she tries to invite them over to her place.  Our UPS guy Juan Valdez, our appraiser that stopped by the other day, and I think she even tried to seduce the ex-cleaning lady.  Holy shit...that might actually explain my last blog. http://eshelwoman.blogspot.com/2012/01/post-61.html  Bottom line, she needs to tone it the fuck down.

Bang bang,

Katie E. Eshelman

12 January 2012

Post #61

I have been a little slow on the updates and rants.  I'm not apologizing. 

My cleaning lady?  Fired.  Before everyone goes ape shit and thinks I am being a total asshole for having someone else clean my house, just listen.  I hate cleaning, I would rather spend an entire day being forced to watch 'Hannah Montana' reruns while sober, and...yeah I have gone too far.  In any case, I despise it.  Well, my "technician of sanitation" pulled one over on me.  I left my key under my door mat and I had my sister write her a check while I was at work (all standard operating procedures for the past couple of months).  Got home and it turns out the "duster of nothing" had lived up to her name.  I mean it has been a downward spiral since she first started.  I used to come home and the place was as clean as a nun.  This time?  She used our goddamn spray bottle filled with water (designed to show Bitch Tits whose boss) to clean a few surfaces, I can only assume she used a straw and a weak set of lungs to vacuum as there is still shit all over the floor, and she cleverly rearranged my bathroom to make it look as if it were cleaned.  Lies.  Where the hell is my toothpaste?!  I would have rather she jacked a piece of jewelry and left my place spotless.

I decided to become more artistic.  Accordingly, I bought a paint-by-numbers kit and am well on my way to fucking it up.


I told my dad and uncle that when my masterpiece was complete I was going to hang it up in the office.  My uncle promptly told me that if that was the case he was going to have his grandchildren make us a few pieces for the wall.  Dick.  I will update my progress after I go to Michael's this weekend and buy some legit paints and brushes.  That's right, I am dedicated to my craft.  Plus, I have a coupon.

Well look at that it's 4:02,

Katie E. Eshelman

04 January 2012

Post #60

Holy crap, it's 2012.

On the business side of things?  Juan finally came back with our computer.  He pimped the shit out of it. I'm not positive all of it was totally legal...so yeah, moving on.

On the personal side of things?  I decided that I wanted to pursue another endeavor in life.  I want to be the face of the container-of-wine known as Almaden. (I really should buy stock in it.) My sister thought it was a fantastic idea so I made her my marketing director and advertising guru. Hence...

No "box" is too big.

The continuing adventures of Zach and his iPhone... 

My dad got pissed at Siri...again.  He actually screamed into the phone "How many fucking boyfriends do you have?!!"  Apparently, when Siri doesn't answer him he thinks she is off gallivanting with someone else.  He thinks Siri is a whore, I guess she kind of is.  In any case, she didn't respond.

And now!  I introduce to you his sidekick Jeri!

This week I learned that you should never tell your mother that a childhood friend is the on the new 'Bachelor.'  Big, fat, fatal error.

Stop watching Mom.

Funny thing about that photo?  It's a screen shot of my sister's phone.  My mom called me once.  I'm quite confident that she inferred from my tone that I wasn't going to answer again.  Sorry Megan.

I continue to live in a constant struggle with Bitch Tits.  I was forced to take away her friendship bracelet the other day, the little shit viciously attacked me.  She almost broke skin.  Finally gave it back to her because she learned her new trick.  To sit on command.  I truly hope her New Years' resolution is to stop fucking with me. 

Well, here's to another year.

Katie E. Eshelman