As a side job, I’m a freelance makeup artist. I’m currently doing makeup for an artsy fashion show. Last night, I met with the team designing the garment and we started discussing the makeup they wanted to achieve. The model wasn’t able to come to the meeting so they were concerned I wouldn’t capture their vision. Here’s how the conversation went:

Heidi -  So are you good with what we’re wanting on the makeup?

Me – No problem. I’ll play around with some ideas before the show.

Heidi – Well, how will you do that if the model isn’t around?

Me – Oh, I really don’t need the model initially, I’ll just play with myself… I do it all the time.

silence..

CENTRAL NERVOUS SYSTEM, SOME HELP….PLEASE!!!! For the love of no filter! What I meant was, “I’ll experiment with the makeup on my own face before I do a run-through with the model.”  Because I blab before braining, I communicated that I would just masturbate until I met the model. I guess every artist has their own way of  procreating brilliance.

I  have no doubt she knew what I really meant, but it’s just embarrassing that I couldn’t mold my thought into an intelligent reply. My slips are always sexual implications to strangers or clients, rarely to friends or family that would dismiss it as a Lauren Moment. Ahh…. Freud.. I am the poster child of your life’s work.

It’s sometimes painful to be me, hence, I had to start a blog because, for my sanity, I have to know that other people share my pain.. and mortification. Britney baby, although I didn’t have two children by the age of 25, marry a white wanna-be-rapper who aspired to be ghetto, change accents when I change wigs or cry on national TV while I smacked gum and let snot run down my face for effect .. I do think we could be close friends. Call me.

Anywho, you know I’m Queen of blurting before braining.. this is why I’m categorizing myself with Britney Spears and.. Vice President Biden … away we go!!

Yesterday afternoon, two of my female coworkers and I got a sweet tooth. We work in the Merchandise Mart (in Chicago. On levels one and two there are endless opportunities for high calorie treats, I’m talkin’ every type of fast food vendor you can think of.  We started throwing out options: Cookies? No..  brownies? Nah.. cupcakes… maybe ice cream? Maybe… wait! Milkshakes!!! Ladies, I think we have a winner.

Because it was late afternoon and our brains are dead and perverted at this specific time of day.. we got on the subject of the “Milkshake,” song by Kelis – http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rZ-FAV9fBII.  One of my coworkers wasn’t aware of what “milkshake,” really meant. We then clued her in that “milkshake,” in this song, was a euphemism for a BJ (oral sex to a man.. you never know you’re audience.) She laughed and gasped… haha.. funny.. then it was over. Before we went downstairs I wanted to be polite to the Creative Director and Design Manager in the next room. So I went next door, walked in their office and said:

“Hi, we’re running downstairs real quick, would you guys like a blow job?” WAIT!!!!!! NO! NO! NO! NO!!!!!!! Lauren – Freudian Slip!!!!!! AHHHH!!

“Oh my goodness.. I’m so sorry…. I meant Milkshake. Oh my god… I… am.. horrified.. We were talking about this song because we’re getting milkshakes, right, and what it meant in the song..” Lauren.. just shut-up. Just turn around and walk off.

The Creative Director is a conservative gay man and the Design Manager is a female – both cool -  but, still – COME ON!!! They were immediately stunned – eyes shot wide open – followed by “WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY?”

UGH!! It hurts! It hurts so bad… make it stop!

Girl, you’re not alone if three pairs of feet fit in your mouth with room to spare. I feel ya, Britney baby.

My girlfriend, Betty, was a bridesmaid in one of her best friend’s wedding. Betty and the Bride live in different cities, so Betty was sent to a store to pick up her bridesmaid shoes for the wedding.

Before going, the bride called Betty to let her know that the shoes were ready and in her size. All she had to do was stop by the store, try on the shoes and purchase them. Betty replied, “Great I’ll go get them today.”

When she arrived, she took one look at the bridesmaid shoes, took out her phone and sent a text message to her boyfriend about how UGLY the shoes were…she was so upset, in no way were these shoes going to look good on Betty…or ANYONE. Yuk!

As Betty sent the message, she gasped! She looked at her phone only to realize she had sent the message to the BRIDE!

After freaking out for a minute…and getting no response from the bride…Betty text her “OMG haha just kidding…did you get my joke? The shoes fit, all good!”

To this day, Betty doesn’t know if the Bride knew it wasn’t a joke.

Samantha
Seattle, WA