In honor of two big social events for Bev this weekend (Friday: backyard beer garden party, Saturday: Fawn’s bachelorette), I present the second F.A.F.
…..
I don’t care what you say. This bro-ham’s name is Chad, and he definitely just bought beer for his whole fraternity with his daddy’s ATM card. I hope he’s at the beer garden party tonight. And I hope he’s wearing that shirt.
-Bev
Bev is attempting a craft for one of her weekend parties tonight. This basically translates into…. Bev trying to answer an age-old question:
Is one more likely to glue their hand to their face using super glue or ModPodge?
Stay tuned.
Also, coworkers, if I show up tomorrow with tulle stuck on my face, just… go with it.
Let’s just say I’m better at craft beer than I am at crafts.
-Bev
How do I love my landlord/upstairs roommate/new friend?
Let me count the ways.
-Bev
Today marks a new beginning here on beverlygoldenstein.com- the start of a series. The dawn of a new day. The birth of a new baby. The takeoff of a new tier. We’re creating a new course. (Have you picked up on my clever alliteration yet?)
If you’ve been reading this blog for more than five minutes, you know that Beverly here is not a fan of animals. But as deep as my hatred for actual animals runs, my love for funny pictures of them is almost as intense. I know. I’m a walking conflict, and I don’t apologize for it any more than I do for my undying love for Kimmy K. Because of this all-consuming love of funny animals photos that can leave me crying laughing, I have amassed quite a collection of them in my phone’s camera roll over the years. I decided to start sharing my unique medley of photographs with you on what will be known here on out as ‘Funny Animal Friday’ or F.A.F here. I prefer F.A.F., because say it out loud. It rhymes with laugh and that’s what it makes me do.
Shut up and get to the point, Beverly. OK, without further ado, I present to you, my dear readers… the ultimate. My all-time fav. The original funny animal photo to begin the funny animal photos. I give you… Bruce.
If you aren’t saying this in different voices in your head, and laughing so hard you’re crying, you need a psych eval. I also like to come up with names for the other cow. Frontrunners are Albert, Alfonso, Barry, or Fletcher for a boy cow1 2. If that rascal’s an old gal, I believe her name is Beatrice, Francine, or Judy. I think we can all agree that, no matter the gender, that brown cow’s last name is McJudgerson.
**Yes, I realize that it’s not Friday. I was supposed to write this post last night. But then I went to a bar, got a free Miller Lite coozie, heard Mariah Carey ‘All I Want for Christmas is You’ (in May), and I lost my mind, and woke up with a hair tie in a glass of water next to my bed. I don’t even know. Just go with it, and please be aware that I expect approximately 30% of my F.A.F. posts to occur on Saturday. And 10% on Sunday. Don’t hate.
-Bev
1Please don’t tell my dad that I used the term ‘boy cow’.
2Please don’t tell my dad about this blog.
I grew up today, y’all. Finally went into the doctor’s office, and it turns out, this ‘summer cold’ is actually something medical professionals dub ‘bronchitis’ and I am actually thankful to have it so that I can get some meds. (aka: if I would’ve gone in there and heard, “It’s a virus”…. well, this post would’ve been a mug shot)
Anyhoo, part of the issue is my lack of ability to sleep, so Doc offered me codeine cough syrup, which I… turned. down. Yep. I turned down codeine cough syrup because codeine cough syrup makes me, well, turn up1. (I always knew I was Lil’ Wayne’s soulmate… SYZZURP FOR LIFE)
So, instead, I got some cough suppressant crap that I can take in conjunction with my AdvilPM. And some Sauvignon Blanc. She didn’t actually say that part, but it was implied.
Anyway, ain’t no party like a Doxycycline Monohydrate, Sauvignon Blanc, clam chowder, cookie dough ice cream, Benzonatate, Advil PM, Grapefruit Shandy party2. If you need me, I’m on my couch surrounded by said items.
-Bev
1I may have actually used the phrase ‘turn up’ when talking to the doctor.
2Actually, while checking out at the pharmacy, I saw some acetaminophen suppositories. I would have no idea, but I bet there’s really no party like an acetaminophen suppository party. Yikes.
Bev is still feeling pretty under the weather over here (damn you summer colds), and has been having one HELL of a time sleeping the last few days. I decided to take matters into my own hands last night and drink some expired codeine cough syrup I had hangin’ around. I snapchatted a pic of said bottle to a few peeps, and got some pretty funny responses.
My favorite of which was from my 50+ year old uncle, Bart. The snap was a pic of my Aunt Sue drinking a beer at Buffalo Wild Wings, with Bart’s caption, “Gettin’ your purple drank on, huh?”
Yeah, the Goldensteins are pretty pimp. Technically, Uncle Bart is on Mama G’s side, the Pages, but collectively, well, my family ain’t no punk.
If you read this within two hours of publication, please send up a prayer that Bev is able to stare at the back of her eyelids for at least 4-5 hours at a time tonight.
-Beverly Goldenstein-Carter
aka: Lil’ Beezy
Well, the good news is, (based on how this cold is not going away), I don’t think I’ve reached the age of having two-day hangovers.
The bad news is, I’ve reached the age where my mom has reached the age of …
a) having (and using) cardinal return address labels,
and b) sending cards sealed with candy cane stickers. In May.
-Bev
Rented American Sniper tonight. It was between that and 50 Shades of Grey. Just kidding, I would never watch that trash. It was actually between American Sniper and not renting a movie, because for me, renting a movie basically boils down to spending $4 on iTunes to play on Facebook, paint my nails, do laundry, sign up for gym classes for the week, and… well, sometimes blog. This movie is actually good enough for me to pause it while I do some of that other shit though. That’s more than I can say for most…
Anyhoo, big thanks to all the men and women who have served, are serving, and will serve our country so that jackholes like me can sit on our couches, drinking wine, taking Advil PM, and writing pointless blog posts.
-Beverly Goldenstein
American Blogger
When you wake up Monday morning, and you’re not sure if your cold is getting worse, or if you’ve officially reached the age of two-day hangovers.
Memorial Day Weekend, 2015.
-Bev
Have you ever been so hungover that the Subway employee asks you if you need ibuprofen while he makes your sandwich?
At 3 pm?
Yeah, there was a time in my life when I, too, could answer ‘no’ to that question. That time is no longer.
Rough day.
-Beverly