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Read this week’s “That’s What She Said” to hear how Hollywood turned me into the creepy old lady who looks at little boys. Yes, I went there.

I got a little stir crazy at a family party this weekend and decided to tattoo my nephew.

He pondered the display of love for a moment,

but ended up taking matters into his own hands.

He just looks so smug.

Apparently he forgot I know the garage code…

AND where his dad keeps the permanent markers. Vengeance be mine.

Yesterday I spend a significant amount of time looking at local classifieds for a pug puppy to bring home.

And then I came home to Daisy eating her own shit in the backyard.

After a considerable amount of dry heaving and a few tears later,  I took her into the house to clean her up. I put her in the tub and brushed the shit out of her teeth. Literally. I was still worried about her catching pink eye, athrax, cyptosporidioosis, anthrax, hantavirus and every other communicable disease imaginable, so I decided to use something that would kill bacteria.

Enter half a bottle of Lysol Disinfecting Wipes.

Enter a semi-reportable case of animal cruelty.

Poor, poor Daisy. SHIT EATING DAISY.

Afterward I felt guilty that I pretty much put bleach in her mouth so I gave her a treat and poured myself a glass of wine. Which I promptly set down in order to put the cleaning supplies away. In my STILL panicked state I accidentally set the glass where Daisy could reach it.

Um, yeah. I think I have a wino pug. I also think it’s safe to say we both deserved the wine buzz we got last night.

This week’s “That’s What She Said” is all about floating the river. I’m addicted. The only issue is it’s impossible to get a good tan.

My jort loving friend Jeremiah picked up some Two Buck Chuck for me when he was in Las Vegas over the weekend. I thought the favor was an act of kindness, but as it turns out it’s just another way for him to torture me.

Dick.

I suspect the “willing to negotiate” is code for a Hugh Grant movie marathon with a wine infused Sarah. I can live with that.

My niece, Hannah, is not made of sugar and spice, and everything nice. Nope. She is made of spunk and spice… thank god.

This week’s “That’s What She Said” is about the Ben Folds concert at Deer Valley.

All drunken shenanigans can be viewed here… until my mom calls and begs me to take them down.

A big thanks to the Utah Jesus for saving us seats!

Read this week’s “That’s What She Said” to hear about my current dating adventures. I skipped posting last week’s column because I’m lazy and also because I was off having aforementioned dating adventures. You can catch up here, though fair warning: it’s boring.

I spent the Fourth of July just like every other American: chasing the neighborhood ice cream truck around the block, which totally counts as exercise. Just so you know.

I didn’t see any non-dairy options and figured it wouldn’t hurt to ask…

“Do you have any soy ice cream?”

“No.”

“What about coconut milk ice cream?”

“No.”

“What about Nut Rolls?”

“Um, no.”

“Well what good are you? Some adults don’t want dairy.”

“I bring ice cream to children and you’re not a child.”

“Good observation but I may have a kid hidden in the backyard waiting for a treat.”

“In that case I may call the police.”

WHAT THE HELL? I thought those creepy dudes were in charge of molesting children, not protecting them.

Obviously I didn’t have a kid in my backyard, otherwise I would have sent the kid to fetch my treat. Everyone knows kids are just short slaves.

Sheesh.

Remember that huge line at the Apple store for the new iPhones? Remember me bitching about it on Twitter?

Well what you don’t remember is me telling you how I got my sexy new phone. I explain and apologize in this week’s “That’s What She Said.”