This made me giggle.
Me a lottery ticket. hehehehe
Friday, February 09, 2007
Thursday, February 08, 2007
Random Thoughts
I think my oldest doesn’t like her birthday or something. Every year right before her birthday Super Girl becomes Super Brat. I don’t understand this. Out of the 7 birthdays she’s had, I’ve canceled two of them two years in a row. She’s very, very close to having her 8th birthday canceled due to extreme brattyness and she’s only got 5 more days until her birthday.
Correction on the Dead Gerbil post: The wishes followed on the gerbil burial were the wishes of Cabbage Patch not the deceased gerbil who did not have a will and at the time of his horrible demise had not verbalized his wishes for burial or otherwise.
Peanuts. Does anyone actually LIKE that comic/cartoon? I absolutely despise each and EVERY one of their holiday specials. The best thing about growing up was not EVER having to watch another Peanuts holiday special. Okay maybe that’s not the BEST part of being a grown up… Being able to buy booze and having sex and not having a curfew and… well you get the picture… but not having to watch that crap is still damn good.
Why is dating so fucking difficult? No really, WHY? Why do the few guys I DO like seem to lose interest after the first date? And WHY do all the other guys I want to forget me continue to pursue me almost to the point of needing a restraining order or a witness protection order? (some idiot is messaging me at this very moment) Honestly are there any nice, intelligent, good looking, straight men out there who aren’t just out for sex and want to date me (believe me, the freaky sex will come to those who wait)? Maybe I should just join a convent… oh wait… I’m Jewish.
I think the lone male gerbil is lonely… or maybe he’s a bit psychotic and he’s pondering how he murdered Spike.
Where the hell did the warm weather go? Yesterday I was walking around in shorts and a t-shirt and today, well today I damn near froze my ass off in my shorts when I took Coco out.
And that is all. The End.
PS - the best insult in the world is to call someone a TWAT, as in "(fill in the name) is a TWAT." Thank you Savol for putting it in perspective and giving me a giggle.
I think my oldest doesn’t like her birthday or something. Every year right before her birthday Super Girl becomes Super Brat. I don’t understand this. Out of the 7 birthdays she’s had, I’ve canceled two of them two years in a row. She’s very, very close to having her 8th birthday canceled due to extreme brattyness and she’s only got 5 more days until her birthday.
Correction on the Dead Gerbil post: The wishes followed on the gerbil burial were the wishes of Cabbage Patch not the deceased gerbil who did not have a will and at the time of his horrible demise had not verbalized his wishes for burial or otherwise.
Peanuts. Does anyone actually LIKE that comic/cartoon? I absolutely despise each and EVERY one of their holiday specials. The best thing about growing up was not EVER having to watch another Peanuts holiday special. Okay maybe that’s not the BEST part of being a grown up… Being able to buy booze and having sex and not having a curfew and… well you get the picture… but not having to watch that crap is still damn good.
Why is dating so fucking difficult? No really, WHY? Why do the few guys I DO like seem to lose interest after the first date? And WHY do all the other guys I want to forget me continue to pursue me almost to the point of needing a restraining order or a witness protection order? (some idiot is messaging me at this very moment) Honestly are there any nice, intelligent, good looking, straight men out there who aren’t just out for sex and want to date me (believe me, the freaky sex will come to those who wait)? Maybe I should just join a convent… oh wait… I’m Jewish.
I think the lone male gerbil is lonely… or maybe he’s a bit psychotic and he’s pondering how he murdered Spike.
Where the hell did the warm weather go? Yesterday I was walking around in shorts and a t-shirt and today, well today I damn near froze my ass off in my shorts when I took Coco out.
And that is all. The End.
PS - the best insult in the world is to call someone a TWAT, as in "(fill in the name) is a TWAT." Thank you Savol for putting it in perspective and giving me a giggle.
How To Get Searched At The Airport
This past weekend I ventured to Houston to attend Queen Mystic’s Super Bowl Party. K procured tickets for me from his adorable boyfriend who is employed at a major carrier and could get me a good price on the ticket (i.e. FREE).
Saturday morning I got up at the obscene hour of 4:25 am to shower and get packed (oh like you don’t wait until the last minute also) and be ready to leave casa de Karmically Challenged at 6:45 am to arrive at the airport by 7:15 am. Moments before we left I had this brilliant idea to put the things I needed into a new purse instead of cleaning out the old purse that contained many extraneous items that probably wouldn’t make it through airport security (as in the small bottle of vodka – Absolute I think, (oddly enough it came from an airplane and was gifted to me by D after one of her many trips abroad), the cute pink flask of tasty loki with my name on the front of it (Judypooh), the various packets of ketchup, jelly and taco sauce deposited there by my offspring, I’m sure there is probably a knife – possibly plastic, possibly metal -, a spork and the makings of some kind of explosive with detailed instructions any 5 year old could understand also deposited there by my progeny). Part way to the airport I discovered that my brilliant idea might have been really great if I had actually put things in my purse that I’d really need – as it was I only had my driver’s license, $15, lipstick, a book, house keys, some mints and a Starbucks card – because, come on, who really needs a debit card when you have a Starbucks card with $15 on it??? That’s like 4.5 lattes!
K deposited me at the airport and I kissed the family then waved them off as I headed to catch my flight. First stop, the ticket counter to collect my tickets from Will Call. I approached the counter and told the clerk that my tickets were in Will Call and gave her the confirmation number K had passed along to me. She tapped something in the computer and stared at it asking me if I had my tickets because she had my reservations but I needed tickets. I looked at her and considered panicking but decided not to as K had informed me on the way to the airport that he had left his phone at home so hopefully I wouldn’t have any problems. BASTARD! Fine. After 5 minutes of exchange and bewildered looks, I again mentioned Will Call and my tickets being there (actually it was the third time I mentioned it) her mental light bulb went off and she said “Oh why didn’t you say so. Will Call is different.” And before I could give her the bitch slap she deserved she disappeared behind a door to search for the tickets. Ms. Clerk took entirely too long to find the tickets but finally did reappear all smiles and sunshine and directed me to head for security.
And now the real fun part happens! I followed the other passengers to the security line like grazing cattle and presented the first security person with proof that I should be in the line at all – my ticket and my driver’s license. The security person looked at the ticket and then at the license, then looked at me then back at the documents. I smiled back, anxious to get through this and get on my flight. Then she said “Do you have up to date identification?” I said no and wondered how in the world she knew that the address was incorrect on my license (yes I am blond at times). She said okay and told me to go to Lane 1. Lane 1 was a shorter security line so I was happy to go there. I followed a couple of other people to that lane and casually looked down at my license to compare it to my ticket and at that moment I realized that my damned license is expired! Shit! I shoved everything back in my purse and put it and my boots, and my coat into the plastic bin and put my luggage on the belt next to the bin. Then I proceeded to prove to airport security that I’m a total ‘tard because I can’t go through the metal detector right. After my second walk through the metal detector I was told that due to my license being out of date I had to be searched as well as my bags. Oh FUN! How was I to know that an expired driver’s license is a sure sign of being a member of Al-Qaeda?
I stepped aside with two security officers and got politely felt up by the female officer while the male looked on and prepared to paw through all my belongings. Dude, it’s all good – I hadn’t had a date in a couple of weeks so it was like a double date for a moment. As I watched them go through my belongings I was hit with a pang of regret that I hadn’t packed anything more interesting than a couple of books and some lipstick. I suddenly wished I had a bag full of batteries, vibrators, whips and hand cuffs so I could smile knowingly and mumble “business trip” to their curious looks. But no, nothing so exciting as that – not even garb as I chose not to garb because I didn’t want to have to deal with the extra weight in my bag. Bad planning on my part. And then it was over, no phone number, no thank you, no ‘call me sometime’, just ‘have a nice flight’. I’ve had dates like that before, just not usually felt up in public at an airport nor has it ever happened so quickly. Bastards.
After my encounter with the security people, I raced to my gate having realized that all this fun left me with a mere 10 minutes to get to the gate. No worries though, I got there and on the plane right away then I text messaged K “I got searched!” and turned off my phone. I figured that would give him something to think about for the next hour.
This past weekend I ventured to Houston to attend Queen Mystic’s Super Bowl Party. K procured tickets for me from his adorable boyfriend who is employed at a major carrier and could get me a good price on the ticket (i.e. FREE).
Saturday morning I got up at the obscene hour of 4:25 am to shower and get packed (oh like you don’t wait until the last minute also) and be ready to leave casa de Karmically Challenged at 6:45 am to arrive at the airport by 7:15 am. Moments before we left I had this brilliant idea to put the things I needed into a new purse instead of cleaning out the old purse that contained many extraneous items that probably wouldn’t make it through airport security (as in the small bottle of vodka – Absolute I think, (oddly enough it came from an airplane and was gifted to me by D after one of her many trips abroad), the cute pink flask of tasty loki with my name on the front of it (Judypooh), the various packets of ketchup, jelly and taco sauce deposited there by my offspring, I’m sure there is probably a knife – possibly plastic, possibly metal -, a spork and the makings of some kind of explosive with detailed instructions any 5 year old could understand also deposited there by my progeny). Part way to the airport I discovered that my brilliant idea might have been really great if I had actually put things in my purse that I’d really need – as it was I only had my driver’s license, $15, lipstick, a book, house keys, some mints and a Starbucks card – because, come on, who really needs a debit card when you have a Starbucks card with $15 on it??? That’s like 4.5 lattes!
K deposited me at the airport and I kissed the family then waved them off as I headed to catch my flight. First stop, the ticket counter to collect my tickets from Will Call. I approached the counter and told the clerk that my tickets were in Will Call and gave her the confirmation number K had passed along to me. She tapped something in the computer and stared at it asking me if I had my tickets because she had my reservations but I needed tickets. I looked at her and considered panicking but decided not to as K had informed me on the way to the airport that he had left his phone at home so hopefully I wouldn’t have any problems. BASTARD! Fine. After 5 minutes of exchange and bewildered looks, I again mentioned Will Call and my tickets being there (actually it was the third time I mentioned it) her mental light bulb went off and she said “Oh why didn’t you say so. Will Call is different.” And before I could give her the bitch slap she deserved she disappeared behind a door to search for the tickets. Ms. Clerk took entirely too long to find the tickets but finally did reappear all smiles and sunshine and directed me to head for security.
And now the real fun part happens! I followed the other passengers to the security line like grazing cattle and presented the first security person with proof that I should be in the line at all – my ticket and my driver’s license. The security person looked at the ticket and then at the license, then looked at me then back at the documents. I smiled back, anxious to get through this and get on my flight. Then she said “Do you have up to date identification?” I said no and wondered how in the world she knew that the address was incorrect on my license (yes I am blond at times). She said okay and told me to go to Lane 1. Lane 1 was a shorter security line so I was happy to go there. I followed a couple of other people to that lane and casually looked down at my license to compare it to my ticket and at that moment I realized that my damned license is expired! Shit! I shoved everything back in my purse and put it and my boots, and my coat into the plastic bin and put my luggage on the belt next to the bin. Then I proceeded to prove to airport security that I’m a total ‘tard because I can’t go through the metal detector right. After my second walk through the metal detector I was told that due to my license being out of date I had to be searched as well as my bags. Oh FUN! How was I to know that an expired driver’s license is a sure sign of being a member of Al-Qaeda?
I stepped aside with two security officers and got politely felt up by the female officer while the male looked on and prepared to paw through all my belongings. Dude, it’s all good – I hadn’t had a date in a couple of weeks so it was like a double date for a moment. As I watched them go through my belongings I was hit with a pang of regret that I hadn’t packed anything more interesting than a couple of books and some lipstick. I suddenly wished I had a bag full of batteries, vibrators, whips and hand cuffs so I could smile knowingly and mumble “business trip” to their curious looks. But no, nothing so exciting as that – not even garb as I chose not to garb because I didn’t want to have to deal with the extra weight in my bag. Bad planning on my part. And then it was over, no phone number, no thank you, no ‘call me sometime’, just ‘have a nice flight’. I’ve had dates like that before, just not usually felt up in public at an airport nor has it ever happened so quickly. Bastards.
After my encounter with the security people, I raced to my gate having realized that all this fun left me with a mere 10 minutes to get to the gate. No worries though, I got there and on the plane right away then I text messaged K “I got searched!” and turned off my phone. I figured that would give him something to think about for the next hour.
Wednesday, February 07, 2007
Dead Gerbils Are No Fun
So it’s done, I told the wee child of the demise of her gerbil. After a brief discussion with K I decided to go with the cold hard truth as he was unwilling to come up with a good lie. Not that really mattered, the whole thing went like this:
Me: Cabbage Patch, I have something to tell you.
Her: What?
Me: Look in the gerbil cage and tell me what’s missing.
Her: The food?
Me: No.
Her: *looking more closely* The water?
Me: No. *rolling eyes and cursing her father for her getting his observation skills*
Her: Da wheel?
Me: No, no, no. That’s all in there. Your gerbil. He’s dead.
Her: *looking at me with surprise* He’s dead.
Me: Yeah honey. Spike is dead. *pulls her into a hug*
Her: *muffled sniffles*
Me: It’s okay honey. *getting teary eyed*
Her: *looking up at me* Can I see him?
Me: Umm… no, it’s gross.
Her and her sister: I wanna see. It won’t be gross.
Me: NO. It’s GROSS.
Her: Can I get a new gerbil?
Me: Um… yeah, I guess.
Her: Okay, can I play outside now?
And that was the end of that. K buried the corpse in a small soap box under a tree by the creek per her instructions (actually she wanted it buried much closer to home but that just seemed a bit to creepy for me.
So it’s done, I told the wee child of the demise of her gerbil. After a brief discussion with K I decided to go with the cold hard truth as he was unwilling to come up with a good lie. Not that really mattered, the whole thing went like this:
Me: Cabbage Patch, I have something to tell you.
Her: What?
Me: Look in the gerbil cage and tell me what’s missing.
Her: The food?
Me: No.
Her: *looking more closely* The water?
Me: No. *rolling eyes and cursing her father for her getting his observation skills*
Her: Da wheel?
Me: No, no, no. That’s all in there. Your gerbil. He’s dead.
Her: *looking at me with surprise* He’s dead.
Me: Yeah honey. Spike is dead. *pulls her into a hug*
Her: *muffled sniffles*
Me: It’s okay honey. *getting teary eyed*
Her: *looking up at me* Can I see him?
Me: Umm… no, it’s gross.
Her and her sister: I wanna see. It won’t be gross.
Me: NO. It’s GROSS.
Her: Can I get a new gerbil?
Me: Um… yeah, I guess.
Her: Okay, can I play outside now?
And that was the end of that. K buried the corpse in a small soap box under a tree by the creek per her instructions (actually she wanted it buried much closer to home but that just seemed a bit to creepy for me.
Tuesday, February 06, 2007
To Tell The Truth or Make A Fantastic Lie?
Which should I do? I’m completely torn. I’m a terribly truthful person but I’m in a quandary as to what I should do at this very moment. I just discovered Cabbage Patch’s gerbil quite dead. EWWWW! Now I’m not certain if I should tell her and let my tiny 5 year old experience grief for the first time or if I should concoct a fabulous tale and have K purchase a replacement Spike.
Internet if I ever needed you it’s RIGHT NOW! Give me your input! I have until 4 pm to decide what to do about this dead gerbil problem. Do I tell her Spike has gone to the big running wheel in the sky or do I tell her that her daddy took Spike to the vet for a check up?
Which should I do? I’m completely torn. I’m a terribly truthful person but I’m in a quandary as to what I should do at this very moment. I just discovered Cabbage Patch’s gerbil quite dead. EWWWW! Now I’m not certain if I should tell her and let my tiny 5 year old experience grief for the first time or if I should concoct a fabulous tale and have K purchase a replacement Spike.
Internet if I ever needed you it’s RIGHT NOW! Give me your input! I have until 4 pm to decide what to do about this dead gerbil problem. Do I tell her Spike has gone to the big running wheel in the sky or do I tell her that her daddy took Spike to the vet for a check up?
Saturday, February 03, 2007
Flashbacks At Starbucks While Waiting To Steal A Car
D and I went to Starbucks yesterday morning to celebrate Groundhog Day. Just kidding, I don’t give a crap about those oversized rats, we just went for coffee. What I didn’t realize was that it was RETRO day at that Starbucks. The decade was the 1980’s. There was the chick with the shitty geometric hair cut and equally crappy tattoos, then Mr. Poodle hair making me remember all those guys back in the 80’s with bad perms. Before I could even stop snicker at that in walks Neil Diamond (black leather jacket and bald spot included) followed by none other than Gary Coleman accompanied by Sally Struthers – it’s heart warming to see that she’s still very involved in feeding the children… as well as herself. Then in walks Mary Lou Retton. I’m going to have to get a job at that Starbucks so I can relive the 80’s at least once a week.
Then we left, we walked out to D’s car parked right out front. Upon opening the door to her car I was shocked by an apparently empty McDonald’s bag and half a dozen Riccola cough drops occupying my seat. I thought “We didn’t go to McDonald’s… Riccola? She didn’t have those in the car…” about that time D says “This isn’t my car!” We both start laughing as we close the door and go AROUND the corner to D’s car, all the while musing over why anyone would leave a Mercedes Benz unlocked outside a Starbucks.
Later this conversation took place:
Her: I’ve decided I’m just taking two sets of bra and panties and that’s it.
Me: hmmm… Well I’m glad to hear you are going to make this a working vacation.
Okay, I’m off to wake up everyone and get on to the airport! Have a fabulous weekend everyone!
D and I went to Starbucks yesterday morning to celebrate Groundhog Day. Just kidding, I don’t give a crap about those oversized rats, we just went for coffee. What I didn’t realize was that it was RETRO day at that Starbucks. The decade was the 1980’s. There was the chick with the shitty geometric hair cut and equally crappy tattoos, then Mr. Poodle hair making me remember all those guys back in the 80’s with bad perms. Before I could even stop snicker at that in walks Neil Diamond (black leather jacket and bald spot included) followed by none other than Gary Coleman accompanied by Sally Struthers – it’s heart warming to see that she’s still very involved in feeding the children… as well as herself. Then in walks Mary Lou Retton. I’m going to have to get a job at that Starbucks so I can relive the 80’s at least once a week.
Then we left, we walked out to D’s car parked right out front. Upon opening the door to her car I was shocked by an apparently empty McDonald’s bag and half a dozen Riccola cough drops occupying my seat. I thought “We didn’t go to McDonald’s… Riccola? She didn’t have those in the car…” about that time D says “This isn’t my car!” We both start laughing as we close the door and go AROUND the corner to D’s car, all the while musing over why anyone would leave a Mercedes Benz unlocked outside a Starbucks.
Later this conversation took place:
Her: I’ve decided I’m just taking two sets of bra and panties and that’s it.
Me: hmmm… Well I’m glad to hear you are going to make this a working vacation.
Okay, I’m off to wake up everyone and get on to the airport! Have a fabulous weekend everyone!
Friday, February 02, 2007
Excitement From The Heavens
This morning the Little People were blown away by what they saw outside. SNOW! You would have thought that the jolly fat guy who handles that tree holiday had made a second visit to them and left them the keys to the warehouse for Toys R Us. I’m not a huge fan of this SNOW stuff as it’s usually just a big pain in the butt what with it being COLD and WET and how it’s accompanied with nasty ICE that makes driving hazardous and WORST of all how it usually causes the SCHOOLS TO CLOSE! Today’s SNOW is an exception, I doubt it’ll last all day and though there are some slick spots on the road, it appears that it’s not all that bad out there and best of all – the SCHOOLS ARE OPEN! YAY!!!!
Ahhhh now if only I had some hot chocolate, Amaretto and a certain sexy man to snuggle with – this day would be PERFECT.
Enjoy some photos I took this morning (in my bathrobe and slippers no less!).
See all that excitement???
This is why I moved where I live - I love this view... if only I had known that in the spring and summer it's COVERED in poison ivy of which Super Girl and I are terribly allergic... well that view wouldn't have been so tempting!
Because I just HAD to show yet another photo of La Seg's offspring! This is how she USUALLY looks! Such a good baby.
This morning the Little People were blown away by what they saw outside. SNOW! You would have thought that the jolly fat guy who handles that tree holiday had made a second visit to them and left them the keys to the warehouse for Toys R Us. I’m not a huge fan of this SNOW stuff as it’s usually just a big pain in the butt what with it being COLD and WET and how it’s accompanied with nasty ICE that makes driving hazardous and WORST of all how it usually causes the SCHOOLS TO CLOSE! Today’s SNOW is an exception, I doubt it’ll last all day and though there are some slick spots on the road, it appears that it’s not all that bad out there and best of all – the SCHOOLS ARE OPEN! YAY!!!!
Ahhhh now if only I had some hot chocolate, Amaretto and a certain sexy man to snuggle with – this day would be PERFECT.
Enjoy some photos I took this morning (in my bathrobe and slippers no less!).
See all that excitement???
This is why I moved where I live - I love this view... if only I had known that in the spring and summer it's COVERED in poison ivy of which Super Girl and I are terribly allergic... well that view wouldn't have been so tempting!
Because I just HAD to show yet another photo of La Seg's offspring! This is how she USUALLY looks! Such a good baby.
Thursday, February 01, 2007
Baby Photo!!!
She's so beautiful!!! (yes I did take that photo)
EDIT*
By popular demand...
MORE BABY PHOTOS!
She's so beautiful!!! (yes I did take that photo)
EDIT*
By popular demand...
MORE BABY PHOTOS!
Wednesday, January 31, 2007
IT IS DONE!
Shana had her darling daughter yesterday evening at 8 pm via c-section. Her little angel was 7 lbs 5 oz and 21 in. long.
Yesterday was a REALLY hard day for her that started with her arriving at 6 am to the hospital, included her getting 3 epidurals – yes 3 freaking times – before she got any relief and her not dilating for the most part.
As expected, she’s super tired today and really sore.
No I don’t have any photos of the baby – so sorry. Planning to visit tomorrow when she’s feeling more up to visitors and THEN I promise I’ll take a million photos.
Shana had her darling daughter yesterday evening at 8 pm via c-section. Her little angel was 7 lbs 5 oz and 21 in. long.
Yesterday was a REALLY hard day for her that started with her arriving at 6 am to the hospital, included her getting 3 epidurals – yes 3 freaking times – before she got any relief and her not dilating for the most part.
As expected, she’s super tired today and really sore.
No I don’t have any photos of the baby – so sorry. Planning to visit tomorrow when she’s feeling more up to visitors and THEN I promise I’ll take a million photos.
Friday, January 26, 2007
Some People Are Fucking Stupid
Or
Proof That Even The Stupidest Warning Sticker Is Needed
I just ran across this news article. WTF? How STUID must one be to not realize that sponge should be WET before you nuke it for 2 minutes or it’ll burst into flames?!?!?!?! Come on people, the original article described how they soaked the sponges in dirty water prior to sticking them in the microwave.
This is my favorite paragraph:
"Just wanted you to know that your article on microwaving sponges and scrubbers aroused my interest. However, when I put my sponge/scrubber into the microwave, it caught fire, smoked up the house, ruined my microwave, and pissed me off," one correspondent wrote in an e-mail to Reuters.
I wish I had that person’s e-mail so I could send them a thank you note for making me laugh at someone’s incredible stupidity. I usually have to rely on tales of current hijinks by certain people’s idiot ex’s.
On to other news. This article talks about how Viagra may decrease a man’s ability to smell. Apparently researchers studied 20 young men and found that the ones given 100 mg dose of Viagra had a ‘drop in olfactory ability”. I wanted this article to end with this statement: “An informal exit interview found that none of these men cared if they couldn’t smell when they had an enormous erection.”
Since we are talking about Viagra, I think you all should know not to give it to your pet iguana no matter how much he begs for it. Poor Mozart’s going to get the Lorena Bobbitt treatment because of his week long erection. Shed no tears for him people, iguana’s have two penises so this won’t even put a dent in his sex life. (though part of me is REALLY curious as to why Mozart was getting Viagra!)
In other animal news, NJ has issued a warning to squirrel hunters to NOT eat the squirrel that live near a TOXIC WASTE DUMP. WTF? WHY does anyone NEED to be told that? Ewww… I think I just threw up in my mouth a little bit.
And that is all, go about your business.
Or
Proof That Even The Stupidest Warning Sticker Is Needed
I just ran across this news article. WTF? How STUID must one be to not realize that sponge should be WET before you nuke it for 2 minutes or it’ll burst into flames?!?!?!?! Come on people, the original article described how they soaked the sponges in dirty water prior to sticking them in the microwave.
This is my favorite paragraph:
"Just wanted you to know that your article on microwaving sponges and scrubbers aroused my interest. However, when I put my sponge/scrubber into the microwave, it caught fire, smoked up the house, ruined my microwave, and pissed me off," one correspondent wrote in an e-mail to Reuters.
I wish I had that person’s e-mail so I could send them a thank you note for making me laugh at someone’s incredible stupidity. I usually have to rely on tales of current hijinks by certain people’s idiot ex’s.
On to other news. This article talks about how Viagra may decrease a man’s ability to smell. Apparently researchers studied 20 young men and found that the ones given 100 mg dose of Viagra had a ‘drop in olfactory ability”. I wanted this article to end with this statement: “An informal exit interview found that none of these men cared if they couldn’t smell when they had an enormous erection.”
Since we are talking about Viagra, I think you all should know not to give it to your pet iguana no matter how much he begs for it. Poor Mozart’s going to get the Lorena Bobbitt treatment because of his week long erection. Shed no tears for him people, iguana’s have two penises so this won’t even put a dent in his sex life. (though part of me is REALLY curious as to why Mozart was getting Viagra!)
In other animal news, NJ has issued a warning to squirrel hunters to NOT eat the squirrel that live near a TOXIC WASTE DUMP. WTF? WHY does anyone NEED to be told that? Ewww… I think I just threw up in my mouth a little bit.
And that is all, go about your business.
Thursday, January 25, 2007
Badger, Badger, Badger, Badger…
This morning I witnessed the return of THE BADGER. This is Cabbage Patches alter ego that only makes an appearance when she is awoken. When Super Girl started kindergarten a couple of years ago I discovered this horrible personality and often took great care in doing whatever possible to not come in contact with it, i.e. after a couple of weeks of dealing with it while trying to get Super Girl ready for school, I just let her sleep until whenever since she didn’t have to go to school anyway. The kid loves her sleep, I can respect that.
As this school year approached I had a growing sense of foreboding. I had horrible dreams of every morning her screaming and crying from the time she got up until she got on the bus. Images of me wrestling her into clothing every morning and putting her in a head lock to get her hair in a ponytail. Not good, not good. The beginning of kindergarten didn’t start like that; she was amazingly eager to go and was mostly happy to get up in the morning. As the months progressed she wasn’t quite so eager to get up though. She’d come down stairs and lay on the couch, pulling the afghan over her head and wouldn’t move until she absolutely HAD to. Eventually she figured that if she refused breakfast she could get 10 more minutes of sleep. And hey, isn’t sleeping more important than a bowl of Cheerios?
Last week she was sick one day, so she got some medicine and was sent back to bed. She was so totally cool with that. Funny thing was that she woke up at 9:30 am feeling better and announced to me that she was getting dressed and I’d need to walk her to school. She doesn’t quite understand the concept of staying HOME from school. A couple of times this week she’s tried to convince me she was SICK so she could sleep in – she can’t fool the thermometer though. Tuesday and Wednesday she just wouldn’t get dressed so I had to wrestle her into clothes (of which she told me she didn’t want to wear) – what fun!
Today was the day I’ve dreaded. She was in full on BADGER mode. From the moment I flipped on the light in their bedroom until she stepped out the door (and I’m assuming got on the bus… maybe even now as she’s headed to lunch) she screamed and cried and gnashed her teeth. She denounced us all and proclaimed that she hated her clothes, she hated the cats, she hated me, she hated her sister, she hated the dog, she hated those shoes, she hated her backpack, she hated her coat… you get the picture. It was something else. (And for all of you soon to be parents and parents of tiny angelic babies, who happen to be snickering, be warned… it WILL happen to you. All children are born to appear angelic, but they are really little time bombs of terror just waiting to unleash it on you when you least expect it… and then they’ll be adorable and cute again so you don’t actually lock them in a dog crate, you just really, really consider it).
So… what’s the point of this post? Fuck if I know, I thought it might more socially acceptable to write about that than a detailed inventory of my sex toys or a boring account of folding laundry.
This morning I witnessed the return of THE BADGER. This is Cabbage Patches alter ego that only makes an appearance when she is awoken. When Super Girl started kindergarten a couple of years ago I discovered this horrible personality and often took great care in doing whatever possible to not come in contact with it, i.e. after a couple of weeks of dealing with it while trying to get Super Girl ready for school, I just let her sleep until whenever since she didn’t have to go to school anyway. The kid loves her sleep, I can respect that.
As this school year approached I had a growing sense of foreboding. I had horrible dreams of every morning her screaming and crying from the time she got up until she got on the bus. Images of me wrestling her into clothing every morning and putting her in a head lock to get her hair in a ponytail. Not good, not good. The beginning of kindergarten didn’t start like that; she was amazingly eager to go and was mostly happy to get up in the morning. As the months progressed she wasn’t quite so eager to get up though. She’d come down stairs and lay on the couch, pulling the afghan over her head and wouldn’t move until she absolutely HAD to. Eventually she figured that if she refused breakfast she could get 10 more minutes of sleep. And hey, isn’t sleeping more important than a bowl of Cheerios?
Last week she was sick one day, so she got some medicine and was sent back to bed. She was so totally cool with that. Funny thing was that she woke up at 9:30 am feeling better and announced to me that she was getting dressed and I’d need to walk her to school. She doesn’t quite understand the concept of staying HOME from school. A couple of times this week she’s tried to convince me she was SICK so she could sleep in – she can’t fool the thermometer though. Tuesday and Wednesday she just wouldn’t get dressed so I had to wrestle her into clothes (of which she told me she didn’t want to wear) – what fun!
Today was the day I’ve dreaded. She was in full on BADGER mode. From the moment I flipped on the light in their bedroom until she stepped out the door (and I’m assuming got on the bus… maybe even now as she’s headed to lunch) she screamed and cried and gnashed her teeth. She denounced us all and proclaimed that she hated her clothes, she hated the cats, she hated me, she hated her sister, she hated the dog, she hated those shoes, she hated her backpack, she hated her coat… you get the picture. It was something else. (And for all of you soon to be parents and parents of tiny angelic babies, who happen to be snickering, be warned… it WILL happen to you. All children are born to appear angelic, but they are really little time bombs of terror just waiting to unleash it on you when you least expect it… and then they’ll be adorable and cute again so you don’t actually lock them in a dog crate, you just really, really consider it).
So… what’s the point of this post? Fuck if I know, I thought it might more socially acceptable to write about that than a detailed inventory of my sex toys or a boring account of folding laundry.
Wednesday, January 24, 2007
LAST CHANCE TO ORDER GIRL SCOUT COOKIES!!!
Hey just wanted to let you know that today is the last day for you to order cookies - I have to turn in the orders this evening at Super Girl's Girl Scout meeting. (If you've already ordered, I've got your information written down already, if you'd like to add to your order, feel free though ;) )
If you'd like to order some cookies, she'd need to haveyour order by 1-24-07 (today). The cookies are $3.50 a box and she needs to have themoney by 2-20-07 so she can deliver cookies shortly there after. Here are the fabulous varieties:
Samoas - vanilla cookies, vovered with caramel, rolled in toasted coconut and striped with chocolate
Thin Mints - oh you know what those are!
Do-Si-Dos - Oatmeal cookies with creamy peanut butter filling
All Abouts - these are new. Shortbread cookies with fudge on one side.
Trefoils - shortbread cookies
Tagalongs (my favorite) - coookies topped with peanut butter and covered in chocolate
Sugar Free Little Brownies (another new one)
Cafe Cookies - gourmet-styled cookies caramelized with brown sugar and a hint of cinnamon
If you'd like to pay with PayPal use this e-mail address (moocowmoo at hotmail.com) and please inclued a $.50 or so more to cover the cost of PayPal. If you'd like to mail acheck - let me know and I'll give you my address to send to and the informationto put on the check.
Anyway, that's about it.
Let me know by 5 pm if you'd like COOKIES!!!
Hugs
Judy
Hey just wanted to let you know that today is the last day for you to order cookies - I have to turn in the orders this evening at Super Girl's Girl Scout meeting. (If you've already ordered, I've got your information written down already, if you'd like to add to your order, feel free though ;) )
If you'd like to order some cookies, she'd need to haveyour order by 1-24-07 (today). The cookies are $3.50 a box and she needs to have themoney by 2-20-07 so she can deliver cookies shortly there after. Here are the fabulous varieties:
Samoas - vanilla cookies, vovered with caramel, rolled in toasted coconut and striped with chocolate
Thin Mints - oh you know what those are!
Do-Si-Dos - Oatmeal cookies with creamy peanut butter filling
All Abouts - these are new. Shortbread cookies with fudge on one side.
Trefoils - shortbread cookies
Tagalongs (my favorite) - coookies topped with peanut butter and covered in chocolate
Sugar Free Little Brownies (another new one)
Cafe Cookies - gourmet-styled cookies caramelized with brown sugar and a hint of cinnamon
If you'd like to pay with PayPal use this e-mail address (moocowmoo at hotmail.com) and please inclued a $.50 or so more to cover the cost of PayPal. If you'd like to mail acheck - let me know and I'll give you my address to send to and the informationto put on the check.
Anyway, that's about it.
Let me know by 5 pm if you'd like COOKIES!!!
Hugs
Judy
The Shoes That Saved My Life!
(Not really, but they are really fabulous)
WOW! Look! I’m not dead! The three of you who do read this brain damage causing blog may be wondering where I have been. Let me tell you. I was abducted by aliens. Yup, they just sucked me up in their ship and made me play cards with them. I couldn’t leave. Just up in the mother ship hanging out. It was a lot more boring that you might think. They aren’t very good at conversation, everything leads back to them talking about anal probes and I’m all like “Okay, whatever, enough about that. We are playing bridge and I just have to tell you, conversation about probing of the buttal region is completely inappropriate for a bridge game. Maybe it would be appropriate for a poker game but definitely not this.” And they’d be all “Ohhhhhhh…” giving me that look with their big shiny eyes and all…
Um... yeah... so where was I? Oh yeah, so I have been MIA because of aliens and being abducted. Except I wasn’t really, I just thought that being abducted by aliens sounded better than admitting that I was just fucking depressed. Yeah, just fucking depressed. So I just didn’t have anything that was even remotely cheerful and happy to write so I didn’t. In fact I didn’t even talk to people. Didn’t read much of my e-mail or take many phone calls. Because I was depressed. And ya know what, that’s just depressing. I know, I suck as a friend for not returning e-mails or phone calls. I didn’t think you really wanted me pissing in your Wheaties so to speak though. But I’m feeling better now. This past weekend I got the old metaphorical crow bar out and pried my head out of my ass. It’s amazing how that can change ones shitty outlook on life. That and a little therapy. And that of course brings me to… My Day of Retail Therapy AND THE SHOES!
Yesterday D was over (I have my time share dog
As with all therapy, it always starts with a lot of mixed feelings and often is painful and frustrating though hopeful. The first place of therapy involved me trying to find a pair of jeans. Now let me take a moment and explain, I don’t wear jeans. I look shitty in jeans. I’m the wrong shape to wear jeans. It’s an abomination. The mirror in the fitting room reflected the abomination that was high lighted with the harsh fluorescent lights. Out I went to model the horror for D to witness. Children cried and old people wet their Depends as I emerged from the fitting room in the terrifying ensemble. The jeans hugged places they should have never come near, they bagged in places they should have hugged and they were two feet to long. I myself had to fight off the urge to jab my own eyes out with spoons at the very sight in the mirror stareing back at me with a pathetic twisted visage. (It didn’t help anything that we had left to run a quick errand early in the morning and I had not bothered to wear make up… or do anything other than clip up my hair… or to wear decent clothes… yes, yes I was looking all of Britney Spears fatter older sister who has the same terrifying fashion sense, all I needed was a baby to almost drop and a K Fed look alike to complete that look.) Hopes dashed by the deceitful jeans, I chalked it up to a learning experience – I learned to not shove my ass in a pair of them!
Later that afternoon the clouds parted and the angels sang as we went to another place to continue our therapy. I scored a shirt and some half price perfume. The trauma was over. One more stop and I heard the cherubic choir as I sat in the shoe department and convinced my offspring to bring me shoes to try on… I convinced Cabbage Patch to actually PUT the shoes ON my feet. I knew this was a sign of celestial harmony. And then it happened, Cabbage Patch brought THEM to me. The shoes were ringed with a heavenly aura as I looked on with awe. She placed them on my feet as though The Creator himself (instead of Liz Claiborne) had just made them especially for me. I gazed lovingly at THE SHOES as she fumbled with the buckle (then impatiently shoved her aside as I strapped them on). With much excitement I took a few steps in them and was delighted that they were amazingly comfortable. I was in LOVE. After a short moment of hesitation I allowed D to convince me to buy those bad boys and we were off! Take a gander at the photo of THE SHOES. Do they not look as though they were made by a heavenly presence? Oh yes, yes they do. And now I must go and snuggle my shoes before bed.
Saturday, January 06, 2007
New Year Whine
(sorry, it's not funny or anything, just whiney)
The New Year rang in not as expected. The trip I was planning to go on didn’t happen (let’s just say some people are incredible assholes deep down – no I’m not talking about K who is far from an asshole). After getting past the stomach flu I got hit with a lovely cold. Why? Because I gave birth to two walking-talking bio-hazard germ magnets that live to spread their diseases to me like Pestilence of the Four Horsemen.
I’ve been living in a veritable haze of medication, tissues and migraines. I don’t recommend it for anyone. Some of the medication has been very interesting, as in leaving me seriously spaced out (Drixoral cold & allergy 12 hour sustained relief ) to where I had difficulty carrying on a coherent conversation and let’s not even think about the ever so entertaining shopping trip with D and the offspring. My bursts of energy have been spent doing the never ending mound of laundry and reading. I haven’t even felt much up to being on the computer and just haven’t. I haven’t even been reading e-mail or answering the phone. Sorry, just not in the mood to be social, really in the mood to just crawl in a cave and be left alone until I feel like a human again. The progeny don’t much go for that idea though, they have needs and they seem to believe that I am the only one who can take care of that for them. Aren’t they supposed to be self sufficient by now? You know, make their own meals, and work a job or something? Whatever, I’ll be thankful when school starts again on Tuesday. (This damned school district has the longest winter break!)
Another added bonus for the New Year is that Easy Bake Oven is not working. It was briefly fixed and now it’s not again. *sigh* I don’t even want to go into it now, but hopefully it’ll be up and running soon.
The job situation is completely uncertain at this moment. I don’t know if I’m fired or not. Honestly I’m not sure I care either. I lack any respect for my boss and simply can’t stand her. So maybe this is a good thing, I don’t really want to go back to work even though I do love what I do, I completely dislike the company I work for and of course my boss and the ‘new changes’ to the company that the new owners are convinced will make things ‘better’ yet seem to only make things shittier and more stressed. So I may be looking for new employment soon and with that I’ll need to figure exactly what it is that I do want to do as far as employment and all like that. Who knows, maybe this is all the cold medication speaking for now.
Thursday, December 28, 2006
Proof That Santa Hates Jews
Monday night after working that day and celebrating the tree holiday with K’s family and seeing a movie with La Seg I was struck down in my prime! STRUCK DOWN I TELL YOU! Within 10 or 15 minutes of returning home at
Morning happened and I called K on his cell phone (yes, yes we live in the same casa, he just couldn’t hear my sad little whimper upstairs) and suggested he call my sister to take the Tiny Terrorists and call my boss to call me in dead for the day. He called D but refused to call my boss as she bitched him out when I had a migraine. D fetched the Little People shortly after K left for work and as luck would have it she was here when my boss called to let it be known that she was pissed yet again at me for being too sick to work. I let D handle the call – no one can out do her in the BITCHY department. Then they left. The rest of the day was a blur of misery.
The next day I managed to keep down half a cup of broccoli cheese soup and some ice tea! Today I’m not cringing when I cough nor do I curl into the fetal position after a sneeze. And honestly, WTF? WHY are my SHOULDERS SORE??? I don’t remember using THEM while shouting groceries.
And, whatever, that’s it. I’m tired now. I’ll write more later.
Wednesday, December 20, 2006
Kosher Gerbil Day
I know I haven’t posted much about Chanukkah this year. I honestly wasn’t much into the holidays until RIGHT before the first night of Chanukkah, then I was pissed because no one else seemed to really be into it enough to help me get my fucking Chanukkah garlands up (you know, the one’s I obsess over) so I had a little temper fit and declared that ALL HOLIDAYS in December were CANCLED. The Tiny Terrorists took no notice of their mentally challenged parental unit. They knew that once their daddy returned from
Well he returned if nothing else. And there is always a certain amount of gayness floating around this house even without holidays, so whatever, the holidays are still happening despite my proclamation.
Prior to K’s trip to
This year my general ambivalence toward the holidays in general left me a bit behind in my e-mailing pleas to NOT SEND MY KIDS ANYTHING. By the time I realized that it was nearing that gift giving time of year (hey I was working on some major denial, I figured if I pretended it wasn’t happening, it wouldn’t!) it was already a week into December. YIKES! The next thing I knew I was picking up a box at the office! I read the return address and CRINGED! My FAMILY! They SENT GIFTS! (or a mail bomb – either way a good reason to cringe.) With trembling hands I opened the box and discovered… GIFT CARDS! They sent my kids GIFT CARDS and an ornament! I LOVE THEM!
But I digress… I got side tracked… that’s how I am (isn’t it easy to understand how I get so freaking lost when driving?!?!?!?!). This is about Kosher Gerbil day. K and I discussed what to get our offspring for gifts. I suggested the PETS that Super Girl has been begging for. (Pets because I couldn’t just get Super Girl a pet and not Cabbage Patch so it would have to be PETS instead of PET). In previous discussions with Super Girl I had narrowed her pet choice to anything that wasn’t a CAT (we have two, we are at the maximum cattage here), or a DOG (I have a time share dog –
On the first night of Chanukah I told the offspring that they would get one and only one present for Chanukah but it would be a BIG DEAL pressie. They were TOTALLY psyched and immediately started guessing what the BIG DEAL PRESSIE could be – the second guess was “Is it a pet?” Sunday (the third night of Chanukah) we took them to the pet store to select their gerbils. Super Girl got an albino and Cabbage Patch got a little ginger colored one with black eyes. Then it was time to name them. I had told K to remind me that I could not name the rodents since they aren’t MY pets – I would have named them Latke and Matzo (thanks Mystic for those suggestions) and I did suggest it to the progeny – which of course got me a dirty look from K. While in the store Super Girl looked at me and said “I’ll name mine WHITEY.” To which my eyes bugged out of my head and all the air left my lungs as I thought of the reaction my ‘former gang member’ neighbor would have to hearing that. I firmly and politely told her “NO! Absolutely NOT!” and then refused to explain why. She settled on Dragon for hers. Cabbage Patch took a tad longer to decide, at first she said Staph to which I giggled and said what a great name it was (What? My gerbils are Bubonic Plague and Hanta Virus – it fits!), then she said Scrap and finally she came up with Spike.
Sooooo… Kosher Gerbil day was a success. Dragon and Spike are settled in well and the offspring think I ROCK! Until their dad gives them something EVEN BETTER for that other gift giving holiday… you know, that one that involves the tree and the reindeer and that fat guy in a red suit and that baby and all the animals and stuff. I don’t get it, sounds like something inappropriate that people would have to pay money to attend. Whatever, not that there’s anything wrong with that. Happy Chanukah!
Never A Good Thing…
When the day starts with a puking child. That was yesterday for me. K and I split sick kid duty. I went to work and he called in for the morning. I intended to blog about Bast’s party and post the ever so amazing photos from said party, but when I got home I was a bit preoccupied with a feverish child.
Later that night it was time for more LATKES! I made another batch of fabulous potato latkes for dinner and then attempted to make apple latkes. The potato latkes were fabulous yet again, but the apple latkes… well not so much, in fact they weren’t even fit for human consumption… maybe not even animal consumption. No worries, they are tied up tight in a garbage bag. *sigh* I think I’m done making latkes for the year, I MIGHT make donuts, but who knows, I’m kind of tired of frying things. This might be the night of Lays potato chips and Krispy Kreame donuts. Rah, rah, the festival of oil.
Oh yeah, happy Chanukkah to everyone one… even you cute little goyim readers! Keep it kosher! ;)
When the day starts with a puking child. That was yesterday for me. K and I split sick kid duty. I went to work and he called in for the morning. I intended to blog about Bast’s party and post the ever so amazing photos from said party, but when I got home I was a bit preoccupied with a feverish child.
Later that night it was time for more LATKES! I made another batch of fabulous potato latkes for dinner and then attempted to make apple latkes. The potato latkes were fabulous yet again, but the apple latkes… well not so much, in fact they weren’t even fit for human consumption… maybe not even animal consumption. No worries, they are tied up tight in a garbage bag. *sigh* I think I’m done making latkes for the year, I MIGHT make donuts, but who knows, I’m kind of tired of frying things. This might be the night of Lays potato chips and Krispy Kreame donuts. Rah, rah, the festival of oil.
Oh yeah, happy Chanukkah to everyone one… even you cute little goyim readers! Keep it kosher! ;)
Tuesday, December 19, 2006
Weekend of Activities
Ya know, one of the main reasons I quit working weekends was so that I could sleep in! Well whatever. Now that both of the Tiny Terrorists are in Girl Scouts (Daisy Scouts and Brownies) I have yet to have just a weekend to sleep until noon. Not that I did that during the weekend when I was home, but hey I can dream.
This past weekend was FULL of activities. Super Girl went to the ballet with her troop and Cabbage Patch toured the Fire Station with her troop. Lucky for me, I organized the fire station tour so I HAD to go. Honestly it had NOTHING to do with me wanting to oogle hot firefighters. Well maybe just a little, but it WAS really for the kids.
Sadly only two girls showed up (including my progeny), but that meant we got a very personal tour with the three firefighters. (NOT like THAT, there were children there! – Though I wouldn’t mind that kind of tour just for ME. “Oh Mr. Fireman! Have I got a fire for you to put out.”)
The girls completely enjoyed the tour and got to climb on the fire trucks and ring the bells. I completely enjoyed the tour though I didn’t get to climb on any firefighters or ring their bells. I did however take many, many photos to *ahem* document the tour (i.e. I got to take photos of the hot firefighter for masturbation material and pretend it was totally innocent) – yes I know I’m a total DORK, I even wore my DORK shirt that day.
Sadly the fire station was a one story building so there was no POLE to slide down, and no occasion to make cheesy jokes about said fire pole. There also was no Dalmatian. Two stereo types ruined in one afternoon. But firefighters do wear red suspenders… on their fire thingy outfits. And they are hot. Well one was hot, the other two had wedding rings so that kind of turned the HOTNESS factor off for them. They were still cute, but I wanted to practice mouth to mouth with the single one. I may have to stalk him. Maybe just set fires and hope he shows up (KIDDING! KIDDING! I shall just lick his photo often and consider driving by before engaging in masterbatory pleasures).
Later that night I went to Bast’s party… but that’s another post.
Ya know, one of the main reasons I quit working weekends was so that I could sleep in! Well whatever. Now that both of the Tiny Terrorists are in Girl Scouts (Daisy Scouts and Brownies) I have yet to have just a weekend to sleep until noon. Not that I did that during the weekend when I was home, but hey I can dream.
This past weekend was FULL of activities. Super Girl went to the ballet with her troop and Cabbage Patch toured the Fire Station with her troop. Lucky for me, I organized the fire station tour so I HAD to go. Honestly it had NOTHING to do with me wanting to oogle hot firefighters. Well maybe just a little, but it WAS really for the kids.
Sadly only two girls showed up (including my progeny), but that meant we got a very personal tour with the three firefighters. (NOT like THAT, there were children there! – Though I wouldn’t mind that kind of tour just for ME. “Oh Mr. Fireman! Have I got a fire for you to put out.”)
The girls completely enjoyed the tour and got to climb on the fire trucks and ring the bells. I completely enjoyed the tour though I didn’t get to climb on any firefighters or ring their bells. I did however take many, many photos to *ahem* document the tour (i.e. I got to take photos of the hot firefighter for masturbation material and pretend it was totally innocent) – yes I know I’m a total DORK, I even wore my DORK shirt that day.
Sadly the fire station was a one story building so there was no POLE to slide down, and no occasion to make cheesy jokes about said fire pole. There also was no Dalmatian. Two stereo types ruined in one afternoon. But firefighters do wear red suspenders… on their fire thingy outfits. And they are hot. Well one was hot, the other two had wedding rings so that kind of turned the HOTNESS factor off for them. They were still cute, but I wanted to practice mouth to mouth with the single one. I may have to stalk him. Maybe just set fires and hope he shows up (KIDDING! KIDDING! I shall just lick his photo often and consider driving by before engaging in masterbatory pleasures).
Later that night I went to Bast’s party… but that’s another post.
Tuesday, December 12, 2006
Yep... I got tagged.... here ya go
Ok.. I got tagged by Princess Heart AND Queen Mystic! So I guess I HAVE to do what the princess ... so here it goes!!!!
Rules:
Each player of this game starts with honesty, answering these questions.
People who get tagged need to write a blog of their own, providing their answers.
At the end you need to choose 6 people to be tagged and list their names. Don't pick someone who has already been tagged with these questions.
Don't forget to leave a comment that say's "Tag...You're it!" and tell them to read your blog.
1. What is your favorite faire and why? Hmmmm… I do love Scarby because it's home fair, but I love TRF too! I'd have to say whatever faire I'm at with all my friends.
2. Most common color in your wardrobe? Red and black.
3. How many faire-related weapons do you own? None…. Yet.
4. How old is your character? No comment…
5. How many characters do you have? The fair Duchess Fate (aka Judypooh)
6. Nationality of your present persona: ummmm... fae
7. What kind of shoes do you wear? Sandals or maryjanes
8. Socks or hose? Knee socks or thigh high stockings.
9. Have you ever gotten so drunk at a faire that you don't remember parts of it? Nooooooooooooooooooo… But I've put forth a great effort from time to time to make that happen.
10. What were you drinking at the time? Water.
11. Have you ever been on cast? Nope.
12. Would you like to be on cast? Not so much.
13. Why? why what??
14. Have you ever been a vendor at a faire? no
15. Have you ever worked a booth at a faire? Again… no.
16. How many groups are you in? SPCF, Emerald Dragon, McBuggins and Gnomes.
17. List your titles: Duchess Fate, Judypooh, DORK
18. Are you in the SCA? Isn't that one of those veneral diseases?
19. List your titles and awards: Duchess Fate
20. Caffeinated beverage of choice: Coffee
21. Alcoholic beverage of choice: Loki… Just hand me some and I'll drink it.
22. Have you had sex while at faire or in the campground of faire? Why? Have you HEARD something? Was your tent next to mine? I'll try to keep it down from now on… NOT that I'd ever do that anyway.
23. How many times? Why? Have you HEARD something again? Well if your tent was NEXT to mine then you could have just kept count now couldn't you?
24. Do you sew your own clothes? Actually I have a herd of beautiful tiny faries who sew garb for me at night as I sleep. Sadly they tend to procrastinate only sew right before faire.
25. What does a Faire Scotsman wear under his kilt? And what makes you think I've ever investigated THAT? I'm royalty after all – I get others to do that for me… then let me know if it's worth my time. ;)
26. What is the most embarrassing thing that has happened to you at faire? IN faire… ummm… I'd rather just forget that. In CAMP, well – I really am just one embarrassing moment just waiting to happen at any time, just add alcohol.
27. Do you have a favorite show? Sound & Fury, Ded Bob, Iris & Rose
28. What is your favorite faire food that you eat at a faire? Fried Macaroni and cheese
29. Do you wear period underwear? Um… did you just ask me about my undies??
30. Do you camp or hotel when attend out of town faires? I love to camp… as long as I have access to a SHOWER. The parties in the camp grounds ROCK!
31. Have you ever lost your shoe or shoes while walking around faire? Not so far.
32. Have you ever been assaulted by the alcohol-impaired while attending? Who hasn't???
33. Head gear: Tiara, feathers, something fabulous
34. Have you ever been picked to be in a show? No
35. Who gave you your faire name? Fate – The lovely and eloquent Queen Mystic gave it to me. I've always been Judypooh, it's a combination of what people called me while growing up. No Pooh is not my real last name, nor is Judypooh what's on my birth certificate.
36. Have you ever met a special someone at faire? Depends on what you mean – as far as a Special Someone as in romantic interest – not so much, Special Someone as in Wonderful Friend and Long Lost Sibling Type Person – Yes.
37. Does your spouse or significant other attend faire with you? My Gay Husband attends faire sometimes. It makes life interesting. (Just wait until he convinces his boyfriend to attend too!)
38. Can you fit into a porta-potty while in garb or do you have to remove some pieces before stepping in? EWWWWWWW! I avoide port-potties at all cost.
39. Do you speak with an accent or stay in character when mingling with the mundanes? Not so much.
40. Invent one question on your own and ask your six tagged pals.
Have you ever seen a accident at the faire when one of the mundanes was hurt by a reinnes carelessness? nope
Ok... my question for you.... If you could add one thing to TRF (not change... add) what would you add? I don't know, I haven't explored TRF enough to make that call.
What's your most cherished faire memory?
PS I tag no one... feel free to pretend I tag you if you like ;)
Ok.. I got tagged by Princess Heart AND Queen Mystic! So I guess I HAVE to do what the princess ... so here it goes!!!!
Rules:
Each player of this game starts with honesty, answering these questions.
People who get tagged need to write a blog of their own, providing their answers.
At the end you need to choose 6 people to be tagged and list their names. Don't pick someone who has already been tagged with these questions.
Don't forget to leave a comment that say's "Tag...You're it!" and tell them to read your blog.
1. What is your favorite faire and why? Hmmmm… I do love Scarby because it's home fair, but I love TRF too! I'd have to say whatever faire I'm at with all my friends.
2. Most common color in your wardrobe? Red and black.
3. How many faire-related weapons do you own? None…. Yet.
4. How old is your character? No comment…
5. How many characters do you have? The fair Duchess Fate (aka Judypooh)
6. Nationality of your present persona: ummmm... fae
7. What kind of shoes do you wear? Sandals or maryjanes
8. Socks or hose? Knee socks or thigh high stockings.
9. Have you ever gotten so drunk at a faire that you don't remember parts of it? Nooooooooooooooooooo… But I've put forth a great effort from time to time to make that happen.
10. What were you drinking at the time? Water.
11. Have you ever been on cast? Nope.
12. Would you like to be on cast? Not so much.
13. Why? why what??
14. Have you ever been a vendor at a faire? no
15. Have you ever worked a booth at a faire? Again… no.
16. How many groups are you in? SPCF, Emerald Dragon, McBuggins and Gnomes.
17. List your titles: Duchess Fate, Judypooh, DORK
18. Are you in the SCA? Isn't that one of those veneral diseases?
19. List your titles and awards: Duchess Fate
20. Caffeinated beverage of choice: Coffee
21. Alcoholic beverage of choice: Loki… Just hand me some and I'll drink it.
22. Have you had sex while at faire or in the campground of faire? Why? Have you HEARD something? Was your tent next to mine? I'll try to keep it down from now on… NOT that I'd ever do that anyway.
23. How many times? Why? Have you HEARD something again? Well if your tent was NEXT to mine then you could have just kept count now couldn't you?
24. Do you sew your own clothes? Actually I have a herd of beautiful tiny faries who sew garb for me at night as I sleep. Sadly they tend to procrastinate only sew right before faire.
25. What does a Faire Scotsman wear under his kilt? And what makes you think I've ever investigated THAT? I'm royalty after all – I get others to do that for me… then let me know if it's worth my time. ;)
26. What is the most embarrassing thing that has happened to you at faire? IN faire… ummm… I'd rather just forget that. In CAMP, well – I really am just one embarrassing moment just waiting to happen at any time, just add alcohol.
27. Do you have a favorite show? Sound & Fury, Ded Bob, Iris & Rose
28. What is your favorite faire food that you eat at a faire? Fried Macaroni and cheese
29. Do you wear period underwear? Um… did you just ask me about my undies??
30. Do you camp or hotel when attend out of town faires? I love to camp… as long as I have access to a SHOWER. The parties in the camp grounds ROCK!
31. Have you ever lost your shoe or shoes while walking around faire? Not so far.
32. Have you ever been assaulted by the alcohol-impaired while attending? Who hasn't???
33. Head gear: Tiara, feathers, something fabulous
34. Have you ever been picked to be in a show? No
35. Who gave you your faire name? Fate – The lovely and eloquent Queen Mystic gave it to me. I've always been Judypooh, it's a combination of what people called me while growing up. No Pooh is not my real last name, nor is Judypooh what's on my birth certificate.
36. Have you ever met a special someone at faire? Depends on what you mean – as far as a Special Someone as in romantic interest – not so much, Special Someone as in Wonderful Friend and Long Lost Sibling Type Person – Yes.
37. Does your spouse or significant other attend faire with you? My Gay Husband attends faire sometimes. It makes life interesting. (Just wait until he convinces his boyfriend to attend too!)
38. Can you fit into a porta-potty while in garb or do you have to remove some pieces before stepping in? EWWWWWWW! I avoide port-potties at all cost.
39. Do you speak with an accent or stay in character when mingling with the mundanes? Not so much.
40. Invent one question on your own and ask your six tagged pals.
Have you ever seen a accident at the faire when one of the mundanes was hurt by a reinnes carelessness? nope
Ok... my question for you.... If you could add one thing to TRF (not change... add) what would you add? I don't know, I haven't explored TRF enough to make that call.
What's your most cherished faire memory?
PS I tag no one... feel free to pretend I tag you if you like ;)
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