6 of None or One of the Other

So you know that saying that goes something along the lines of Six of One or Half a Dozen....whatever whatever....yeah, I can't ever get it right but for whatever reason I insist on using it ALL THE TIME.

It always just seems to fit but then doesn't fit at all because I end up totally screwing it up. Why can't I just say "Either way" or "50/50"? No, I try to use the egg one every time and end up saying stuff like this:

Six Of One or None of Another

Six of One or Another of Another

One of the Six or One of the Other

Six of None or One of the Other

Six of a Ton and Lots of the Other

Do you see what I'm getting at here? So if you ever happen to give me two options that are pretty much the same and won't really make a difference to me either way, just be prepared for one of the above responses.

And good luck trying to correct me. What's it matter anyway? It's All of One or Half of the Other, anyway ;)

Ode to Nothing Bundt Cake

Oh you little Nothing Bundt Cake, how I love thee. Let me count the ways (because it is certainly easier than counting your calories).

1. I love your Chocolate Chocolate Chip flavor and I don't even LIKE chocolate cake! This is because every other bite consists of a giant chocolate chip right in my mouth and I LOVE chocolate chips in my mouth.

2. I love your Cream Cheese Frosting!!!!! Yes, five exclamation points were necessary here. I love this frosting so much that it got me to try the real cream cheese over the weekend....DELISH!

3. I love your round little shape (it reminds me of how round my butt will be if I continue to consume you).

4. I love how your frosting drips down the sides of you like a volcano of sweet, sweet sugar love.

5. I love that I can get you in an individual size or in a size that would take me two months to eat.

6. I love that you have Adam Lambert...the should've-been-winner of American Idol holding you up on your website. This makes me feel like "They're Just Like US!"

7. I love that you originated here, in Las Vegas, giving us something other than neon and glitter to admire about our town.

8. I love how clever you are with your merchandise...your tees' that read "Nothing Bundt Drama" and your onesie that read "Baby's Got Bundt" sure do make me giggle.

9. Chocolate Chocolate Chip.

10. Cream Cheese Frosting.

Red, White and Beer

Lots of things were a cause for celebration this weekend:

1. The Wizzles are in town

2. $1 Beer Night at the 51s

3. There was no work on Friday

4. The Wizzles are in town

5. 1st Friday

6. Golden Nugget Pool Time

7. 4th of July

8. The Wizzles are in town

9. Pep and I made cupcakes

10. Shelly's BBQ Party

Do you need another reason to party? Because the Wizzles are in town and this is Josh's first trip to Vegas. So, naturally, we are FORCED to show him a good time. Make that a great time. As previously mentioned, we were at $1 Beer Night Thursday night which was pretty much the best thing EVER since there was no work on Friday, for once. Followed that with some tiki drinks at Frankie's. Friday night was First Friday and the Wizzles got a room at The Golden Nugget. We ate with the Crawfords at Dona Marias, made an appearance at DCR, visited the Griffin and of course, topped the night off at Don't Tell Mama. Stumbled back down Freemont and woke up the next day to bagels and cream cheese (my first experience!) and spent the whole day swimming with the sharks at the Golden Nugget Pool. Saturday night Lobo had a barbecue where 87 games of Flip Cup were played and Gordon wore a polo (and fell in love with Linzi's husband, see below). And Sunday the Crawfords had a barbecue for Miss Shelly's birthday. Pretty much it has been a non-stop party. I took last night to recover by vegging out with some pizza and the first season of True Blood (so addicted!) And now for the photo coverage. Oh and if you're interested, the Wizzles are still here which means the party is still happening. Tonight brings karaoke at the Beauty Bar...and yes, it is a hipster as it sounds.

Bye, Bye Bug :(

So, it's official. I am putting my bug up for sale. For those of you who don't know, I've been dragging my feet on this for some time now. Pep offered me her Jeep which is in much better condition than my bug. And it's a real shame that the VW dealership here likes to charge people up the ahole for little things like A HEADLIGHT CHANGE.

But I digress, I've written a little love letter to my trusty beetle and it goes a little something like this...

Dearest Buzz,

Thank you so much for getting me from point A to point Z and everything in between over the past five (plus) years. From the moment I slapped that Hot Cats sticker on the back of you, I knew we would be friends for life.

Buzz, you were my home-away-from-home. You were there for me when I sat in front of boy(s) house(s) crying for hours on your steering wheel. You were there to rock out with me whenever I would get the new JT album and feel the need to practically blow your speakers with it. And how about all those road trips to California...you sure fit in nicely there. And most importantly, you got me home on nights when I should have just left you some place.

You were always so good about your gas mileage, too...I really am going to miss that (Jeannette the Jeep doesn't have shit on your gas mileage).

I'm sorry that I made you drive around Super Chump for so long because he didn't have a car. And I'm sorry about how embarrassed you got when he would drunkenly jump out of your passenger seat in the Del Taco drive-thru.

I'm sorry that I didn't give you enough baths and that most of the time, half of my apartment was actually in your trunk (ok and the backseat). And I'm real sorry about all the curbs I hit, I didn't mean it.

Thank you, thank you for making Crayola my signature scent. I'll miss the crap out of you and am going to make sure that your next owner has a sense of style for your flower case and will be worthy of your waxy ways.

I'll love you forever,

Katie K.

Now, the ideal situation would be for a HSCOOC reader or someone they know to come and scoop this bug off it's wheels. So here is the add...holler at me if you know anyone who is in need of the World's Best Beetle...

Beep beep! New Beetle for Sale! 2001 Silver Volkswagen Beetle with 116,650 miles. Great gas mileage, AC system to cool you off during hot summer days, 6-disc cd changer, sun roof, automatic transmission and very CUTE! I love this car and hate to be parting with it but my expanding family requires something larger. Blue book is $5,100 in fair condition, asking price $4,500 for good condition.

(and readers, no worries, that expanding family part = Gordo).

Now, for some parting photos...

R.I.P. MJ, The King of Pop

Michael Jackson

August 29, 1958 - June 25, 2009.

"If you enter this world knowing you are loved and you leave this world knowing the same, then everything that happens in between can be dealt with."

You (and your moonwalk) will be missed, Mike.

Killa Bees On Attack

Stop me if you've heard this one before. I was attacked by bees at age 8.

Note: I apologize if this post isn't the most riveting one ever, although getting attacked by bees is pretty serious stuff. You see, all the stuff I'd LIKE to write about, I can't. Well, I could but I am 99.8% sure it would come back to bite me in the ass. My new friend (yes, I am 8), blogs anonymously and I had a conversation with her not too long ago about how I sometimes wish I was writing with no by-line. The freedom to be able to express daily frustrations or just plain talk shit with no repercussions seems so LIBERATING. But instead, you all know who I am, what I look like and that I don't like hamburgers.

But enough of that. On to the ATTACK.

So my family owns a piece of land called The Rambo. The Rambo Run stretches for three miles with a fishing stream. My Grandpa and a few of his buddies way back in the day, bought this piece of land so they could have their own place to fish and shoot the shit. Or be men. Whichever you prefer. It has since been passed on and has a few hundred members. I think you have to be invited to join this club, so don't hold your breath. Even my invite hasn't shown up yet and my dad is the secretary. But I digress, since my dad loves trout fishing more even more than he loves Elton John, a TON of my childhood memories took place at The Rambo. And it is beautiful. See?

And yes, that first photo is of me fly fishing. Well, trying to at least. Again, the digression.

So I had this boyfriend when I was 8, Chris Kourner. I have no idea if I spelt his name correct but hopefully, Chris, if you're reading this, don't hold it against me. It's been a long time since I've scribbled your last name combined with my first. Chris and I were walking through the Rambo woods which consists of a VERY narrow path, one in front of the other sort of walking style. Chris, being the gentleman that he was (or so I thought), was walking ahead of me. We're almost to The Falls (pictured above) when Chris suddenly turns around, pushes me out of the way (there goes the gentleman title) and starts running like a bat out of hell. By the time that I can figure out what is going on, there is a giant swarm of bees heading towards me. I started screaming like the 8-year-old girl that I was and took off running with my arms flailing above me trying to fight off the bees. Now, keep in mind, this is like 1991, the same year that 'My Girl' hit the big screen. Yeah, you know the one where the kid DIES from a bee sting. Awesome. Luckily, I am not allergic and am here to tell you this story today. I escaped with a mere 30 or so stings covering mostly my hands, arms and cheeks. Not butt cheeks. Face cheeks.

I broke up with Chris that day.

Skatin' Kate

For my birthday, I asked for a pair of rollerskates. NOT rollerblades. Rollerskates. Quads. The classics. You see, Sir Gordon has a whole lot of energy and thanks to our 600-square-foot condo, not a lot of room to burn it off. As we know, I tried running out for awhile and that lasted approx. 9 days. I thought about getting the bike out but then I remember that I live on the third story and can barely get my groceries up without help, much less my 40 pound bike. So rollerskates seemed like the perfect solution.

So on Wednesday, I grabbed my tube socks and dog and tied the bad boys on. As soon as I stood up in them, it started raining. In June. In VEGAS. Screw it, Gord, let's ROLL.

And roll we did. Holy crap. Luckily, skating came back like it was still '94 inside Crystal Palace and Good Vibrations by C&C Music Factory started playing in my head. We decided to stay local within the complex since it was our first time. Gordon had a blast, running through the water with his mom on skates yelling "GORDON! SLOOOOWWW DOOOOWWNWNNNNN!" the whole time.

We went to the park yesterday and let me tell you, rollerskates and a goldendoodle get A LOT of crazy looks. But, THAT IS HOW WE ROLL.