A WTF? Moment
Just now my youngest offspring said: I have two boobies mommy! My head whipped around so fast I'm going to need to wear a neck brace for a week. I saw her looking at her new charm and said: RUBIES! RUBIES! Those are rubies.
Nothing much else to write about today... well lots really but I think it's best not to write about this and my current obsession right now. It could be really fabulous, but being MY life, MY Karmacially Challenged Life, it'll probably turn out quite shitty and possibly even regretable. But what the fuck! It's fun for now!
Move along now, nothing to see here...
Friday, July 20, 2007
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
And The Answer Is: Because I Cleaned The Kids Room!
Just like Jeopardy except much more boring. And no prizes.
Why is there a mountain of laundry spilling out of my laundry room and into the kitchen?
Why is there a bag full of stuffed animals by the front door?
Why have I used my complete and extensive vocabulary of swear words twice this morning?
Why did I consider kenneling the offspring for the rest of the summer?
Why was I staring at an unidentifiable something while standing in my progeny’s room?
Why did I stop and wonder “What is that smell?” earlier this morning?
Why have I written the Tiny Terrorist out of my will and added Bea, Dragon and Coco instead?
Give up? Well, yeah, you have serious short-term memory issues if you do – give up the pot now – since I already told you the answer.
Today my plan was not to spend the morning swearing, cleaning, and slave driving my offspring. Well okay, the slave driving part was in the plans but not the cleaning of their room, just slave driving in general – it’s good for them, it builds character.
And the final question:
Why do I have the urge to drink an entire bottle of tequila?
Just like Jeopardy except much more boring. And no prizes.
Why is there a mountain of laundry spilling out of my laundry room and into the kitchen?
Why is there a bag full of stuffed animals by the front door?
Why have I used my complete and extensive vocabulary of swear words twice this morning?
Why did I consider kenneling the offspring for the rest of the summer?
Why was I staring at an unidentifiable something while standing in my progeny’s room?
Why did I stop and wonder “What is that smell?” earlier this morning?
Why have I written the Tiny Terrorist out of my will and added Bea, Dragon and Coco instead?
Give up? Well, yeah, you have serious short-term memory issues if you do – give up the pot now – since I already told you the answer.
Today my plan was not to spend the morning swearing, cleaning, and slave driving my offspring. Well okay, the slave driving part was in the plans but not the cleaning of their room, just slave driving in general – it’s good for them, it builds character.
And the final question:
Why do I have the urge to drink an entire bottle of tequila?
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
Filling Space And Amuseing Myself!
What's Your Blog Wanted For?
You can ask Mystic about that, she's my accomplice!
See??? I CAN stop anytime I like! I just prefer to stop at Starbucks for a nice Vanilla Soy Latte!
And THIS is why I (usually) use SPELL CHECK!
$5265.00
Hmmmmm.... I wonder how much K is worth dead?... just wondering!
What's Your Blog Wanted For?
You can ask Mystic about that, she's my accomplice!
See??? I CAN stop anytime I like! I just prefer to stop at Starbucks for a nice Vanilla Soy Latte!
And THIS is why I (usually) use SPELL CHECK!
$5265.00
Hmmmmm.... I wonder how much K is worth dead?... just wondering!
I Rate!
I am SHOCKED! SHOCKED I tell you! SCHOCKED AND APPALED that I didn't rate an X. I guess I don't discuss masturbation, anal sex, prostitution, monster cocks and copious amounts of booze enough to rate that well. I really should start writing more about my weekends. ;)
Mingle2 - Free Online Dating
I am SHOCKED! SHOCKED I tell you! SCHOCKED AND APPALED that I didn't rate an X. I guess I don't discuss masturbation, anal sex, prostitution, monster cocks and copious amounts of booze enough to rate that well. I really should start writing more about my weekends. ;)
Is Canada Another Planet?
I know I have discussed how my youngest offspring is actually an alien from Copperhead Planet. I’ve started to wonder if by Copperhead Planet she actually meant CANADA. Why do I think this? Well every time she brings me a drink despite the temperature of the liquid in the glass she is brining to me, it NEVER EVER has ice in it. I’ve started asking her if she’s Canadian before requesting ICE in my ICED TEA (which she will usually go back into the kitchen to get for me and bring me a couple of ice cubes clutched in her dirty little hand). Yesterday she brought me a glass of water, set it down on the computer desk and then said, “I’ll go get your ice now” before I could even say anything.
Someone Call PETA!
Sadly the just over a week old Webkin that Cabbage Patch got for her birthday and Super Girl cried about for an hour has been utterly forgotten and totally neglected. I now feel obligated to log on to the Webkinz site a few times a day to make sure that the Sims-esque horse is fed and happy. This is somewhat disturbing and comforting all in the same moment. The horse blows me a kiss when I go see her! How could I not spend an hour playing games to earn enough Webkinz Cash to buy her a pool?!?!?!?!
Political Movement
I’ve decided that I really do need to start a political movement to have YEAR ROUND school. I’ve been a supporter of the notion for quite a while and today when my offspring dusted my living room with FLOUR I was even MORE fired up at the idea. And for the whole 35 minutes that I spent cleaning and vacuuming while lecturing my Tiny Terrorists, I’m use THEY TOO were totally in favor of year round school or anything at all that would have involved them not being in the same room with me or having to hear my voice. Summer vacation sucks. I’m looking for ways to get around those pesky child labor laws so as to keep my offspring occupied for the remaining eternity (seems like it) that summer lasts.
High Score On The Fuck Up Test!
This weekend I got the brilliant idea to get new inter tubes for the Tiny Terrorists bikes (they each had a flat). That was my FIRST mistake! The second was going to Wally World WITH the Tiny Terrorists AND their father. What should have been a quick $6 trip turned into an hour-long $81 trip with much whining – I couldn’t help it, I just wanted to be out of that damn place! The rest that happened was something akin to a Three Stooges skit with only two Stooges and two monkeys wearing pastel colored bike helmets (brand NEW because they HAD to have them despite my argument that they didn’t need helmets since they weren’t yet up to riding more than 10 feet before falling off).
Months ago, I did bike maintenance that was REMARKABLY easy and quick. This gave me an amazing false sense of security in this area. I had no doubt I would be able to replace not just one tire but TWO in less than 20 minutes. Oh how painfully wrong I was. First, I had trouble getting the nuts off Super Girl’s bike to get the damn wheel off. Where in I discovered that we have the LAMEST maintenance man EVER for our townhouses. When asked if he had a wrench or a pair of pliers that I could borrow, his answer was no. What fucking maintenance man doesn’t have a WRENCH??? My dad was a maintenance man for 25 years, it doesn’t matter where you are, if you ask that man for a wrench/screw driver/pliers, he can have them in your hand in less than 5 minutes… but I digress. 30 minutes into this endeavor (after finding another screw driver) I sat on the ground with my hands covered in black stuff while I cursed under my breath and tried to get the inter tube into the tire like I had done before. I called K to help. Suffice to say that an hour later I had threatened to throw both flat tires into the trash and just by new wheels, asked the kids why they didn’t just want skates and done an amazing Fu Manchu impression complete with visuals. By the end of it, neither bike is ride able, both brand NEW inter tubes have been pierced (by both K AND myself) and dinner was really late. I rock.
I know I have discussed how my youngest offspring is actually an alien from Copperhead Planet. I’ve started to wonder if by Copperhead Planet she actually meant CANADA. Why do I think this? Well every time she brings me a drink despite the temperature of the liquid in the glass she is brining to me, it NEVER EVER has ice in it. I’ve started asking her if she’s Canadian before requesting ICE in my ICED TEA (which she will usually go back into the kitchen to get for me and bring me a couple of ice cubes clutched in her dirty little hand). Yesterday she brought me a glass of water, set it down on the computer desk and then said, “I’ll go get your ice now” before I could even say anything.
Someone Call PETA!
Sadly the just over a week old Webkin that Cabbage Patch got for her birthday and Super Girl cried about for an hour has been utterly forgotten and totally neglected. I now feel obligated to log on to the Webkinz site a few times a day to make sure that the Sims-esque horse is fed and happy. This is somewhat disturbing and comforting all in the same moment. The horse blows me a kiss when I go see her! How could I not spend an hour playing games to earn enough Webkinz Cash to buy her a pool?!?!?!?!
Political Movement
I’ve decided that I really do need to start a political movement to have YEAR ROUND school. I’ve been a supporter of the notion for quite a while and today when my offspring dusted my living room with FLOUR I was even MORE fired up at the idea. And for the whole 35 minutes that I spent cleaning and vacuuming while lecturing my Tiny Terrorists, I’m use THEY TOO were totally in favor of year round school or anything at all that would have involved them not being in the same room with me or having to hear my voice. Summer vacation sucks. I’m looking for ways to get around those pesky child labor laws so as to keep my offspring occupied for the remaining eternity (seems like it) that summer lasts.
High Score On The Fuck Up Test!
This weekend I got the brilliant idea to get new inter tubes for the Tiny Terrorists bikes (they each had a flat). That was my FIRST mistake! The second was going to Wally World WITH the Tiny Terrorists AND their father. What should have been a quick $6 trip turned into an hour-long $81 trip with much whining – I couldn’t help it, I just wanted to be out of that damn place! The rest that happened was something akin to a Three Stooges skit with only two Stooges and two monkeys wearing pastel colored bike helmets (brand NEW because they HAD to have them despite my argument that they didn’t need helmets since they weren’t yet up to riding more than 10 feet before falling off).
Months ago, I did bike maintenance that was REMARKABLY easy and quick. This gave me an amazing false sense of security in this area. I had no doubt I would be able to replace not just one tire but TWO in less than 20 minutes. Oh how painfully wrong I was. First, I had trouble getting the nuts off Super Girl’s bike to get the damn wheel off. Where in I discovered that we have the LAMEST maintenance man EVER for our townhouses. When asked if he had a wrench or a pair of pliers that I could borrow, his answer was no. What fucking maintenance man doesn’t have a WRENCH??? My dad was a maintenance man for 25 years, it doesn’t matter where you are, if you ask that man for a wrench/screw driver/pliers, he can have them in your hand in less than 5 minutes… but I digress. 30 minutes into this endeavor (after finding another screw driver) I sat on the ground with my hands covered in black stuff while I cursed under my breath and tried to get the inter tube into the tire like I had done before. I called K to help. Suffice to say that an hour later I had threatened to throw both flat tires into the trash and just by new wheels, asked the kids why they didn’t just want skates and done an amazing Fu Manchu impression complete with visuals. By the end of it, neither bike is ride able, both brand NEW inter tubes have been pierced (by both K AND myself) and dinner was really late. I rock.
Monday, July 16, 2007
Monkey Hate
I’ve made an odd discovery today. Apparently, I have something against monkeys. I’m almost disturbed by this revelation, but not really. I’m thinking that possibly I’m just full of hate towards a couple of specific monkeys but ya never know, I think I’ll might want to just avoid the monkey house at the zoo from now on. I know, you are wondering exactly which monkeys have pissed me off (or possibly, you are actually wondering if I’ve finally taken that leap off the edge of sanity and am sinking into the abyss of lunacy) and why I have such homicidal rage toward them.
Dora the Explorer’s stupid monkey friend Boots the Monkey. He’s an idiotic purplish monkey who wears bright red boots and always shouts when he talks (I’ll cut him some slack on that last part since everyone in Dora land speaks several decibels louder than any normal person and in both English and Spanish! Although maybe that’s just how you have to live in Dora land, where just about every animal and half of the inanimate objects can talk and everyone sings idiotic songs when they have to make a decision about anything. Still I’d pay money for a singing dancing baseball bat to shut that fucking monkey up.
The other primate in question is Curious George. I hate that fucking monkey and would call animal control to pick him up if I lived next door to him. That monkey causes so much trouble I’m SHOCKED that no one in that town has decided to put out a special plate of poison cookies for him. At least he doesn’t sing. However, he fucks up everything he comes in contact with. Someone please put that damn monkey in a cage and take him to a medical lab for testing!
WOW! I certainly have a lot of irrational rage focused on cartoon characters! WHEN WILL SUMMER BE OVER?!?!?!?!?!!?!?!
Ahem… I’m back now. Moving on.
Rising To The Occasion
Yesterday as the family and I drove to Wally World, we saw a mini van near the park with a shit load of balloons tied to the top. As I noticed it at the red light, I thought, “Why would anyone tie balloons to the top of their car?” The van drove under the bridge then turned onto the road ahead of us. As it got to the top of the hill balloons started flying off the van. K and I started laughing because we had a very vivid mental picture of what must be happening inside the van as more and more balloons escaped their binds and floated off to the heavens. By the time the van had driven half a mile more than half of the balloons on the van were gone. We had this conversation:
K: I bet it’s a man driving.
Me: and a woman in the passenger seat saying, “I told you not to tie those balloons on the van!”
K: and him saying, “It seemed like a good idea, it’s not like I could see out the back window if they were in here!”
Me: and a little kid in the back screaming “My balloons! My balloons! Whaaaa! My balloons!”
I almost wish we had followed the fan to see what happened when those doors opened.
I’ve made an odd discovery today. Apparently, I have something against monkeys. I’m almost disturbed by this revelation, but not really. I’m thinking that possibly I’m just full of hate towards a couple of specific monkeys but ya never know, I think I’ll might want to just avoid the monkey house at the zoo from now on. I know, you are wondering exactly which monkeys have pissed me off (or possibly, you are actually wondering if I’ve finally taken that leap off the edge of sanity and am sinking into the abyss of lunacy) and why I have such homicidal rage toward them.
Dora the Explorer’s stupid monkey friend Boots the Monkey. He’s an idiotic purplish monkey who wears bright red boots and always shouts when he talks (I’ll cut him some slack on that last part since everyone in Dora land speaks several decibels louder than any normal person and in both English and Spanish! Although maybe that’s just how you have to live in Dora land, where just about every animal and half of the inanimate objects can talk and everyone sings idiotic songs when they have to make a decision about anything. Still I’d pay money for a singing dancing baseball bat to shut that fucking monkey up.
The other primate in question is Curious George. I hate that fucking monkey and would call animal control to pick him up if I lived next door to him. That monkey causes so much trouble I’m SHOCKED that no one in that town has decided to put out a special plate of poison cookies for him. At least he doesn’t sing. However, he fucks up everything he comes in contact with. Someone please put that damn monkey in a cage and take him to a medical lab for testing!
WOW! I certainly have a lot of irrational rage focused on cartoon characters! WHEN WILL SUMMER BE OVER?!?!?!?!?!!?!?!
Ahem… I’m back now. Moving on.
Rising To The Occasion
Yesterday as the family and I drove to Wally World, we saw a mini van near the park with a shit load of balloons tied to the top. As I noticed it at the red light, I thought, “Why would anyone tie balloons to the top of their car?” The van drove under the bridge then turned onto the road ahead of us. As it got to the top of the hill balloons started flying off the van. K and I started laughing because we had a very vivid mental picture of what must be happening inside the van as more and more balloons escaped their binds and floated off to the heavens. By the time the van had driven half a mile more than half of the balloons on the van were gone. We had this conversation:
K: I bet it’s a man driving.
Me: and a woman in the passenger seat saying, “I told you not to tie those balloons on the van!”
K: and him saying, “It seemed like a good idea, it’s not like I could see out the back window if they were in here!”
Me: and a little kid in the back screaming “My balloons! My balloons! Whaaaa! My balloons!”
I almost wish we had followed the fan to see what happened when those doors opened.
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