Dirty Rotten Truth

First things first...

Cheers to the freakin' weeken'.

(I'll drink to thaaaat)

Moving right along...you girls...too sweet for participating in my 2 truths and a lie ditty yesterday. I know you've been up all night long, biting at your fingernails and pacing the floors waiting for me to come clean today. 

Well-today, friends, you can put your little minds at ease because I'm here to come clean. I've been up since the crack tallying up your votes and the results are in:

#1: Fifteen of you think I'm too classy to want 4 tattoos.

#2: Thirteen of you think my nose is perfectly natural.

#3: Three of you think I would never drive around with truck nutz on my car.

***

  Perhaps you girls know me better than I thought because...

I do NOT have 3 tattoos and therefore I am NOT dying to get a fourth!

 They say there's a bit of truth behind every lie and, well, I'm no different.

I do have tattoos...yes, plural...but only TWO-not THREE.

I still like to consider myself to be "tatted up".

Tattoo #1: A ladybug on my hip...

...which, by the way-was THE worst pain ever. I thought I was literally going to pass out on the table. Is it just me or does the color look a little faded to you? Oh-wait, it is. Genius over here went running the same week I got it and thought it'd be a great idea to NOT cover it up. The ink ended up getting stuck to my running shorts and half the color was pulled out of it. Damn, I'm smart. Needless to say, guess who's NOT going back to have it fixed?

 Tattoo #2: Two flowers...on my ass.

(Excuse the blur but have you ever tried to take a pic of your own butt? 

Talk about back cramps...)

Anywho, when I turned 18, a group of girlfriends and I (ahem, Brooke, Ashley & Mandi) all decided we wanted tattoos "just to say we had one". So, what better thing to do than to have your mother take you to get your first one? (Thanks, mom.) Since it is located on my hind part, there's a running joke that it'll be turning into a garden once I get knocked up. (Once again...thanks, mom.)

Next on the agenda...for those of you who guessed that this nose of mine is the nose I was born with...you're all too kind. You see...I'm half Italian and a big nose, well, just comes with the territory. To say I hated my "old" nose/"old" profile is an understatement so my junior year of college I went under the knife and had it, um, well, "reduced". :) While under anesthesia I begged the doc to throw in a complimentary boob job too...which, by the way, he did not go for. Shucks.

And last-but definitely NOT least...only THREE of you thought I would never be caught dead driving around with a pair of truck nutz dangling from the back of my car...three? Really?! I mean, I guess I come across as the girl who would do such a thing because, ladies...'tis true. Ha. Yup-back when I had my Yukon (LOVED that truck), I bought a pair and spray painted them hot pink. People-I'm from Texas. I hunt. I fish. Would you expect anything less than hot pink balls hanging from the back of my black Yukon? I am once classy B...lemme tell ya. (And Linds..you tell my Reesey Pants I'm a changed woman since then!)

Phew-feels good to get that off my chest!

Now that you know all my dirt, I hope we can still be friends.

If not, your loss. ;)

Cheers, party people. 

Cheers.