Synchronized Peeing

Yep.  That’s me.  HAWT!  Right?!  I had my bestie Elaina take it at our friend D.C.’s pool. Behind me is the pool lounge area with a patch of pool there in the middle right side there, in case you can’t see it.  I imagine you can.  That’s me in the bikini.  Every time I have a friend with a phone, I have a picture taken of me.  At a beach, in a bar, at the pool.  The point of the pictures is to motivate all you gals out there trying to drop a few pounds and I’ll probably drag this over to The Wii Mommies and my Facebook page.

Okay, so basically I’m just going to tell you about my day yesterday.  Why?  Well, because I just feel like it and I think it’s pretty fucking funny.

I have a bestie (I already said that, I know.  I just drank like five cups of coffee).  We go out twice a week to sing karaoke.  On Tuesday, the bar is slow so I can sing about five times, sometimes seven.  The beauty of that is I can try out new shit and see what new songs I can do on Friday when it’s so packed I can only sing two or three times.  I have my usual rotation I can fall back on.  Eagles (Heartache Tonight & Seven Bridges Road), Dusty Springfield’s “Son of a Preacher Man” and some other shit.  Any suggestions for me to try on Tuesday’s that aren’t cheese karaoke and songs you think I can sing well (shit that I know – like 90′s and earlier).

Okay so here’s my bestie -

Julie Maloney Momspective


I have an entire Facebook folder with all the different pics from our nights out. A lot of them are blurry because it’s usually taken by someone who’s been drinking.  I drink water.  I max out at three beers. At home it’s one thing but at a bar I keep my shit in check.  My drinking, too.   I’ll link to the public folder here but to see my wall and the rest of my shit you have to be my friend.  Do me a favor and let me know who you are with a quick message.  I get about ten friend requests a day and I have no idea who you are or why we’re becoming friends and I’ve had some psycho’s tell me I’m the spawn of Satan (Sorry, dad.  I didn’t say it, I always tell them to fuck off and I block them.  Crazy fuckers).

Anywho, she and I stalked a friend of ours until we got permish to head over to his pool.  Now that I know his pool code, I have a place to take a lunch break (hour or three a day, depending.) as long as I send him a text so he doesn’t look out his window and see me in his pool without him knowing.  I wouldn’t do that, I’d fully expect him to come hang for a bit.  I’m going there later today.  YAY POOL!

Wow.  Can’t you see how this post is going nowhere?  I actually have something I wanted to talk about.  So I suppose it is going somewhere.  We finally hit up D.C.’s pool (not like Washington, I’m using his initials) where that picture above was taken and my plan was that we’d get there at three since I had everything done except comment returns which I’m about to do now.  Well not NOW but in a second.

So the second we get there we strip down to our kini’s and jump right in.  It’s about three at this point.  All three of us are just swimming around and chatting.  Okay, they were sitting/swimming.  I was in the deeper part of the pool so I could get a leg workout to stay above water and I talked.  I talked for TWO HOURS STRAIGHT.

Yep.  Totally fucked up my plan to tan.  I’m a very careful tanner.  I have a great waterproof SPF 50 for my face that won’t clog pores and one of those super body spray ones, also SPF 50.  I just like to go to the pool about four or seven times a week and I love to swim (my thighs are stating to look the way I want but I still have no ass so I’m going to have to figure that out later) and to my surprise, I also love to talk!

I mean, yeah, I like writing but I am apparently a talker!  Can you imagine that?  I actually have a weekly radio talk show where you can hear me talk for 30-45 minutes.  It’s officially a drinking game show.  Everyone who joins my show live and is registered in the chat room can talk to me and each other and if I just happen to say “Awesome”, everyone is supposed to pop up a smiley face and I have to take a shot and play a slapping noise.  THEY ARE TOO but apparently they forgot that.  Last week I killed a bottle of Schnapps. The show started as normal as any other show and ended with me slurring to the chat room “Let’s take this to Facebook!  WOO!” (I lost nine friends that night because of home page domination).  I’m drinking beer tonight.  Oh shit.  I have a show tonight.  Thanks for the reminder.

So we hop in the pool at like 3:05 and the next thing I know, I’m like “Shit, dude. I’ve gotta pee.  Where’s the loo?” and D.C. points it out to me.  Since my bestie and I hang out pretty much constantly, she also had to pee.  We get out of the pool and head to the potty and I shit you not, we totally synchronized peed.  It not only started and stopped at the exact same time but it lasted FIVE FUCKING MINUTES!

NO SHIT.  She and I were like “Dude!  Are you still peeing?” and then we pretty much knew we were both peeing since we were sitting in stalls next to each other and we had the same stream velocity and we talked about the pee, wondering if it would ever end.  As time went on, we kept peeing and laughing and the pee eventually came to a close and we washed our hands and headed back to the pool.

Thank god I wasn’t at the doctor.  No cup could have handled that flow.

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Written by Julie Maloney in: Adventures


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