How I Look

I stole this from Bad Bad Bunny. Google the phrase "(Your name) looks like" and find the best one from the first page of results. Don't forget to put it in quotes, otherwise it won't work. Okay, so I did that and holy fuck! I laughed so hard milk almost came out of my nose and I haven’t even drank milk in MONTHS!

Here are my answers:

Judy looks like you captured a porkiepine puffer in your last post. (I don’t think that’s Kosher.)

Judy looks like she is having a very difficult time not bursting out laughing. (So true)

Judy looks like crying, that makes me a sista' draggin' caveman. (‘sista’ draggin’ caveman’? WTF?)

Judy looks like she doesn't understand. (A more true statement has not been made)

Judy looks like she's hoping that a casting director for the next Tarzan movie might happen by. (Uhh…. What?)

Judy looks like that duck is ready to attack your feet. (Aaackkk! Not a duck!)

Judy looks like she's about to cry and Richard's words hang in the air between them like a poisoned chalice. (Sheesh, he’s such a dick.)

Judy looks like fun in Sweden. (Baby, I look like fun ANYWHERE.)

Judy looks like she has been brought back from dead on a regular basis! (Oh fuck off)

Judy looks like a million dollars. (See I don’t look like the living dead!)

Judy, looks like they're gonna have to clean this area. (Well tell them to get on it! I’m tired of cleaning!)

Judy looks like she will get away with murder. (If only…)

Judy looks like a babbling idiot. (Ironically… I often am a babbling idiot.)

judy looks like a little angel. (awww you’re just saying that to get in my pants.)

judy looks like a monkey. (Not since having the tail removed.)

Judy looks like she is attending a wake not a romantic holiday with her husband. (ahhh… hmmm… GAY husband… what do you expect?)

Judy looks like Natalie Wood. (Before or after death?)

Judy looks like a very interesting piece of software. (Oh hell yeah!)

judy looks like the devil. (Oddly enough, I’ve heard that before.)

Judy looks like Sharon Osbourne. (Sheesh, I think I’d rather look like a monkey or the living dead)

Judy. Looks like you are going to be living on free dinners for a while when you get back. (Will this require me being on me knees a lot?)

Judy looks like she is in pain. (Probably from working on my knees.)

Judy looks a little petulant as she confesses, "It's hard for me.” (Well yeah, that’s why I was on my knees.)

And my favorite:

Judy looks like a crossdressing prostitute with implants. (Dude… implants?)

Oh Noes! My Orgasms Be Borked!

New Bob does not work. And that my friends is deeply disappointing. Not as disappointing as say having the batteries die in the middle of an *ahem* ‘workout’, but still very disappointing. I told K about my non working new Bob and we had this conversation:

ME: …I have a not working BOB
HIM: You've got other Bob's.
ME: and no Bruce Willis in the forseeable future
ME: but this was NEW BOB
ME: the one that if it was good enough would be called Bruce Willis
ME: on occasion.

He’s lacking sympathy. He’s in Austin with the offspring (spur of the moment trip with a friend) and I’m here. Doing what you may ask? CLEANING. And not masturbating. How sad is that???

But I digress.

So Close To A Near Death Experience

In other news I nearly DIED today. Easy Bake Oven tried to KILL me today. And I know not why! I love that car! And her lack of air conditioning and all her beauty marks and her crackly speakers. I love driving her – not in stop and go traffic that is, just on the high way. Oh, wait almost forgot to tell you about my NEAR DEATH EXPERIENCE… well okay, I exaggerate just a tad… how about an ALMOST NEAR DEATH EXPERIENCE or maybe even a NEAR PANTS WETTING EXPERIENCE. That it most defiantly was, I did nearly piddle on my cow print seat cover. So here I was getting on the high way after a LOVELY trip to Wally World to deal with the idiot WalMartians to get my contacts (what FUN!) and I was at the end of the on ramp when I shift from third to fourth and guess what? Easy Bake will have none of that – she refuses to shift into fourth! Or back to third… or even second and defiantly not first…. Nothing. I have the clutch shoved all the way in (the seat was all the way forward so I could actually be doing that) and nothing doing. I slapped on the hazards and coasted into the break down lane as traffic whizzed past me and I had a mini anxiety attack while asking the maker above why he would let me die one exit from home. I did the only semi logical thing to do – I put that bitch in park and stomped on the clutch then tried every gear. When I got to reverse it clunked into gear so I tried first again and lo and behold it went into gear. So to make a pointless story short, Easy Bake decided to work for me and I managed to get back home where I vowed to not drive her and maybe get on some anxiety medicine.

Okay, I must get back to CLEANING.

And Just When I Think It CAN'T Get Better...


It does!

Look what arrived today!



It's BOB! NEW BOB!

Lunch with Bruce Willis and now NEW BOB! *SQUEE!* I'm recharging my batteries as I type!

Fridays ROCK!

A perfect lunch with Bruce Willis. Who could ask for anything more? Certainly not me.

Blame Canada

K is an insane person… He just played a song on his cell phone and says “Do you recognize that song?” I listen for a moment and say “No, what is that?” and with utter surprise and amazement at my lack of knowledge of the song he says “It’s Oh Canada!” I blink twice hard and say “What the fuck makes you think I’d know Oh Canada?? I was born in LOUISANA not CANADA!” His response: “You had a friend you worked with who was Canadian!” Me: “It’s not like he came into work every morning singing the Canadian National Anthem.” As if that wasn’t enough, the youngest of my progeny pipes up “You lived in Canada?” I tell her no, mommy has NEVER lived in Canada. A few select words from K and Cabbage Patch burst out with “Liar! You did live in Canada!” Nothing I can say will dissuade her of this fact. And K, well he sees this as a great victory that one of my offspring believes I am Canadian. I think he needs to get out more.

Mayor Of Dorkville

That would be me. And ya know, today, I’m actually WEARING my DORK shirt so it’s totally appropriate. I’m not going to give you all details and force myself to relive my incredible dorkitude. Just suffice to say that I really REALLY need to learn WHEN to keep my mouth (typing fingers) shut! I swear, if I could have been virtually picking my nose at the same time I was messaging, then that would totally complete the moment… on yeah and if I had toilet paper on my shoe.

I need to go to bed now so I can sleep off my current feeling of being a freshman in high school having just spilled my chocolate milk down my shirt. No worries people, soon I’ll post something worth READING. In the mean time, go read a book or go masturbate or something.

Counting Cups…

And here I sit sipping coffee and using the free wi-fi at Café Brazil yet another night. Tonight I smartly left the family at Casa De Karmically Challenged so I could hog the Internet all to myself. This disconnection of Internet is quite troubling to me… or just proof that I’m addicted to it… and coffee.

And So It Begins

I spend all summer wishing the offspring back into school and then the first day of school starts and I’m in tears. This year K walked Super Girl to her class and I walked Cabbage Patch to hers. This is a good thing, I would have been blubbering like a baby if I had to take them both to class. I always cry when the first day of school happens though (and on the last day as well… but those are different tears). And yet I can’t help but feel a bit like an ass because I know others who this day is much harder for. You’ve been on my mind all day.

Moving On

This whole week has been emotional for me. I’m not much of a crier, D and I just weren’t raised to be emotional. I absolutely loath crying in front of people and actually see that as a sign of weakness… but enough about my damaged psyche… D left for Florida this past Saturday morning. She and Coco The Wonder Dog spent Friday night with me. Saturday morning after I had been at work for about an hour it hit me that my sister was leaving… for 6 months… the first time in almost 20 years my sister would be more than a 45 minute drive from me. Then the tears started and let me tell you, it’s hard to decorate cakes with tears blurring your vision. Actually it’s hard to type also, just writing about this has me in tears again. Sorry, can’t write anything funny about this, D’s the only family member I’m really close with and I’m really sad that she’s gone – even if it’s only for 6 months.

Luckily Saturday got really busy at the store and I worked for 11 hours then came home to collapse so I didn’t cry much after she stopped by the store to say a quick good bye.

Out of the Mouths of Babes

Tonight for some reason was Super Girl’s big night to bring up uncomfortable things for me. Right in the middle of making dinner she brought up K’s older brother whom I affectionately refer to as Dick Hole. I’m not sure why she brought that up since she only met him when she was 6 months old, but she kept on with the questioning of me despite me repeatedly telling her to ASK HER FATHER. Sheesh.

THEN as if that wasn’t enough she brought up my ex boyfriend and started asking questions about him and why I wasn’t with him anymore and how he was doing, that he was really nice and on and on… Sheesh… that kid has quite the memory. Luckily for me the ex boyfriends are few and far between.

Not Much Longer…

Luckily I won’t be internet-less for much longer. I really enjoy the coffee here but I wonder if the mass consumption in such a short span of time is causing me irreparable brain damage.

I promise I'll post some happy photos and non-depressing, Prozac inducing words as soon as my internet is back up.

Somebody Needs to Cut Me Off!

Working on my 5th cup now. Still on the free internet...

Just had this conversation with my offspring who is the space alien...

Her: My Master was mean. He made me clean everything and scrub the toilet.
Me: Oh, just like me then.
Her: Yeah, only EVIL-er.
Me: Ahhhh... I didn't know it was possible to be EVILer than me.

Wow... all this coffee is AWESOME! I think I'll live here. Free internet, awesome freaky 80's music and COFFEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

Sooooo Disconnected....

I'm still internetless. Today I'm reporting from the local Cafe Brazil which has FREE internet. I'm on my 4th cup of coffe (gotta love that endless cup of coffee!!!) and we are pretending to have a family dinner and not just be here to get fee internet (and COFFEE!!) - I look like such a jerk sitting here with K's computer while everyone else eats. How OBNOXIOUS! But WHATEVER!

Moveing on...

For some fucked up reason I still can't sign on to MySpace. I think it has something to do with K's computer and the fact that it's basically EVIL. But I love the evil, especially when the evil is getting me online.

Well I was going to write more, but K is now eyeing the computer. I GUESS I better hand it over since it's HIS computer.... DUDE... he just put the check on my purse! Ass! Maybe I'll start playing WOW now just to get get back at him. ;) kidding!

Fucking, Fuckity, Fuck-Fuck!

I am currently hating Time Warner and AT&T, who are both simultaniously fucking me. And I haven't even gotten a kiss or a reach around.

Wednesday I rescheduled my Thursday install of cable internet and phone to Wednesday of next week. Thursday mid-day my telephone was shut off, and today mid-morning my internet was shut off. K (who was home sick) got ahold of AT&T who told him that Time Warner told them to shut it off and they couldnt' turn it back on any sooner than Tuesday of next week. Time Warner said that because I had rescheduled less than 72 hours in advanced, I was fucked - not in those exact words, but close enough. I had a long conversation liberally peppered with profanity with a very nice gentleman at Time Warner who sympathized and even appologized for laughing when I said I was getting fucked and hadn't even got a kiss or a reach around, but he can't do dick. Though IF they get a cancelation, I'm in... or so they say. So... I'm internetless and phoneless... and pissed of.

AND I can't post this over on my MySpace blog because I can't get loged on. Fuckity, fuck fuck!

Oh... I had a really good day - LONG! Had lunch with an old friend from WAY BACK and it was AWESOME!

CAKES! CAKES! CAKES!

Because I know you want to see this!


I know Sable loves this one...


Ahhh the finishing touches to make it PERFECT. Don't you think so Sable?


This I just like because it's sooo damn pretty!


My personal favorite. I did this today on a whim! I love pretty fishies!

I appologize that the photos aren't fabulous, but I took them with my camera phone.

So Freaking Tired

I’m so freaking tired. I already said that, but I’m so tired saying it twice just makes sense… or three times now. And ya know what? I feel a tad bit guilty saying that I’m TIRED after working all day… decorating cakes! I have this AMAZING job that I LOVE and it just seems insane that I’d be tired after decorating cakes all day and for that, I’m feeling a bit guilty. But… fuck that noise, I’m tired and tomorrow will be just like today… except not… since it’ll be Friday and Friday’s are busier than Thursdays… whatever.. I work every day until Monday. It’s a good thing I LOVE my job!

Will Wonders Ever Cease?

Tonight was meet the teacher night at the Tiny Terrorists school. Due to the fact that the school NEVER sent their reports cards home, I had no idea what grade they would be in. I was completely convinced that Cabbage Patch had failed Kindergarten and was fairly convinced that Super Girl had failed 2^nd grade due to her issues with testing. I was pleasantly surprised to discover that Super Girl is now a 3^rd grader and totally fucking shocked to learn that Cabbage Patch is a 1^st grader! Holy Social Promotions Bat Man! My offspring passed! And I’m thrilled. My kids are ALMOST BACK IN SCHOOL! YAY! The endless litany of “I’m bored.” Is nearly OVER. Happy Dance! Happy Dance! I’m so damn proud of my girls.

Sweet Dreams

This week the senior cake decorator is on VACATION - something of which I have no idea what it is except that it requires them to be GONE and me to work every day until they return. It's cool, I love my job. The only thing is that I DREAM of decorating cakes (and raping Bruce Willis... and the hot gaming geek I call Bruce Willis... together sometimes... but I digress!). Cake dreams rock (and dreams of eating cake of HOT men rock even more), life is sweet. ;)

Destined To Be Vegetarian?

Tonight we went to a steak restaurant for K’s much anticipated return from Cali. Being a steak restaurant in TEXAS the walls were heavily adorned with tastefully done dead things. It was a taxidermist dream. At some point during the dinner, Super Girl started identifying some of the animals (calling a buffalo a moose) and some point, one of the Tiny Terrorists asked if the animals were real. I, being the ever-educational mother said yes. At that point, Super Girl said she was scared by all the dead critters on the walls. I, being ever so compassionate, rolled my eyes and told her to get over it they were dead. Then came the questions of how the dead animals were on the wall and a brief discussion of taxidermy. Super Girl seemed satisfied and stopped feigning fear. Cabbage Patch on the other had was FULL of questions; she wanted to know HOW the animals got dead. I told her that most of them had been hunted and killed – except the cat, that was probably hit by a car and the raccoon, some redneck probably shot that because it was in his garbage. Then she wanted to know WHY anyone would HUNT. I told her because animals are tasty. She was OUTRAGED. HUNTING is BAD. Uh-oh, she’s WAY too young to get a PETA membership. I then informed her that if she was going to become a vegetarian, she need to start actually EATING vegetables. I then listed off several veggies and asked her if she liked them – maybe 4 out of 12 and I know she was lying about liking broccoli. Then I asked her if she liked hot dogs, sausage, steak, chicken nuggets, etc. and she answered yes to all of it. Yeah, I just don’t see her giving up tasty animals any time soon.

Things That Make Me Happy

My birthday makes me really happy. Just because. I love having a day all to myself. (I refuse to acknowledge anyone else’s birthday that falls on my day unless they happen to be a wee child and that just makes me happy they chose to be born on such a great day – yes I know I’m vain.) What else makes me happy – birthday parties for me that are shared with my best friends bachlorette party. Oh hey, I think I’ll just make a list for you! I know that’s what you really want (or not, but that’s what you are getting!).

1. Already listed – read the paragraph above.

2. Again, I said that already.

3. Birthday cards that make me laugh.

4. My fabulous friends wishing me a happy day.

5. My sister making to my b-day party (finally).

6. Heading to the gay bar for dancing and drag show.

7. Wearing a feather boa.

8. Being a fag magnet and having the gay men talk to me about my hair.

9. Dancing with random gay men.

10. Unintentionally looking like a short chubby drag queen because I’m wearing a boa, crazy false eyelashes and dancing at a gay bar with random gay men.

11. Being told I’m too pretty to be single (Bwhahahahahaha! As if! Their seeing eye dog must have told them that.)

12. Talking to Bruce Willis for 30 minutes Sunday night. You sexy devil!

13. Two new gerbils (Captain Jack and Captain Wil).

14. A new cell phone! Gracis D!

15. School starting next week!

16. Talking to Bruce Willis for 30 minutes Sunday night. Did I mention that already? Well it made me REALLY happy.

17. Finding an old friends e-mail by chance through the gay ex.

18. Having D solve my problem with a very simple and quick fix.

19. Being wrong about something.

20. Talking to Bruce Willis for 30 minutes Sunday night. I know I already mentioned it, but he’s a sexy mutha!

Also… K is back from his trip to Cali. YAY! He made a side trip with his man to Vegas and being the UBER GEEK that he is, he has to go to Star Trek the Experience. Being thoughtful, he bought me PRESSIES!! Being ever so slightly geeky myself – I LOVE MY TRIBBLE! He also got the Tiny Terrorists’ some way too cute Vulcan teddy bears. I’ll post photos of them in the next post.

Anyway, I’m happy today.

My Love For A Dog

And I’m not talking about Coco the Wonder Dog, I’m speaking of the dog I loved all through my childhood. That would be Scooby Do. I can’t remember a time in my life when I didn’t love that huge talking dog. And now that I have offspring, I’m delighted to discover that Scooby has a career once again. Yes, yes there are NEW Scooby Do episodes. And yes they are just as cheesy as the originals (Fred doesn’t sport the ever so gay ascot anymore thankfully).

I remember fighting for TV time with my sister because I HAD to watch Scooby and she wanted to watch some stupid education program. As if! Everyone knows a talking dog is more educational than some hippy kids’ show on public television!

And honestly, everything I need to know, I learned from Scooby Do. Let me show you.

1. Always align yourself with smart friends. Everyone must have a Velma in his or her lives.

2. Friends with a badass ride rock. In the event of no badass ride, go for the ones with the hippy van and a gas card.

3. Beware the pretty bimbo and her boyfriend. They always manage to find trouble!

4. Despite what the group may say, you should always trust the dog’s judgment. If the dog runs, you run.

5. Bargaining, always demand a reward for anything you do. Scooby Snacks rock!

6. Have a plan. A stupid plan is better than no plan at all. (I actually learned that from Captain Simian.)

7. Expect the plan to not go as planned (see Danger Prone Daphne and boyfriend).

8. Abandoned theme parks ROCK! Oh and they are always inhabited by ghost and aliens.

9. ALWAYS go with the talking dog. You may not solve the mystery, but you’ll have more fun and there is likely to be snacks involved. Besides, a talking dog is COOL!

10. Don’t be afraid to ask for help. Especially if you are trapped in an abandoned mine shaft full of aliens guarding some plutonium.

11. You won’t go to jail for breaking and entering if you are with a group of friends and act like you are solving a mystery.

12. All bad people wear masks. Practice taking them off people.

13. Never lose your glasses! Jinkies!

14. Never trust Old Man Jenkins!

And this is the reason I’ve practically banned that annoying educational programming in favor of straightforward dog sense. Rooby, Rooby Do!

Started With Vomit and Ended With Vomit!

What a great birthday I had despite the fact that I didn't get ANYONE... er.. ANYTHING off my list. I worked and got to see Super Hot Bread Delivery Man - briefly - I made my own fabulous birthday cake, had lunch with K and the offspring, got home to see birthday wishes from my favorite people in the world - my friends... even one from Japan! Then it was off to the BIG GAY evening of dinner and a movie - HAIRSPRAY - with my ex and his boyfriend (and my progeny). (Okay, okay, the dinner and movie with the GAYS was part of a untilitarian thing as K needed to be at his boyfriends house last night so he coule fly out today and have the boyfriend take him to the airport since I'll be at work in 30 mins. So, not my top choice of things to do, but it was lots of fun.) Showered with gifts (a NEW BARBIE!) then back home to see YET MORE sweet birthday wishes (even one sneaked in by another mansicle on the list - Bruce Willis, you sneaky devil! You just let me know when I can come over and eat you like a popsicle on a hot summer day. ;) )AND the most special part is that Coco the Wonder Dog did NOT forget me, right before bed she barfed on the floor right next to my computer! What a THOUGHTFUL Dog! So yeah, I've had more than enough VOMIT for my birthday, anyone else who's gotten me puke for this birthday - you are going to have to return it, it's so not original now.

Really the best part was all the birthday wishes... and the CAKE. Just know my friends and family care enough to wish me a happy day is enough for me.

I love you guys!

My AWESOME Birthday Cake!







Happy Birthday To ME! (yes I made that cake)

My FIRST B-day Gift This Year!

My cat gave it to me. She barfed on my bedroom floor right after the alarm went off. Isn't that sweet?!?!?!?!

I just want to let everyone know, just in case that was on anyones list of things to get me - I've already got it! So I don't need anymore cat vomit! Thanks anyway.

Okay, I'm off to work now - in a cat puke-free envirnment.

Shit That Only Happens To Me

The conversation just now happened:

Me, standing in the bathroom putting my makeup away. Cabbage Patch, in my bedroom talking to me.

Cabbage Patch: Mom, what is this called? It looks cool.

Me, turning to see her holding my camo print vibrator: *sputter* Uh..ah.. Stay out of my drawer! *snatching vib out of her hand*

Cabbage Patch: Yes ma’am.

MY Birthday Wish List

Since my birthday is Saturday and I'm sure MOST of you have waited until the last minute to shop for the occasion, I thought I'd make it slightly easier and put out a LIST of appropriate and most desired gift items.

BIRTHDAY LIST 2007

The Super Hot Bread Delivery Guy from my store. This boy is a genuine MANSICLE and believe me he is EXACTLY what any woman would need on a hot summer day. Tight muscled body, a multitude of artful and tasteful tattoos, fabulous smile, shaved head and he's really nice! Sounds perfect, right? YES! So someone do me a favor and kidnap him for my birthday, he's very nice, just mention it's a temporary thing and it's for my birthday and he probably won't fight to much – which is good, I'd hate for him to have rope burn or be all tired out before I got him! Oh and don't drug him! I want him all peppy and full of energy upon arrival – I don't want to spend most of my time waiting for him to become conscious then explaining why he'd be naked in my bed room with comfortable restraints. So yeah, him and some whipped cream.

Super Sexy Geeky Comic Book Guy. Super sexy, fabulous eyes, great smile, shaved head (is that a theme for me?), sharp wit. Same rules as above – him and some whipped cream.

Vin Diesel. If I have to elaborate then you are dead. Same rules apply for him also. Mmmmm him and some whipped cream.

Bruce Willis - Oh damn, Mr. Die Hard himself. Same rules, him, LOTs of whipped cream locked in my bedroom.

Any combination of the above mentioned Mansicles. All four, three, just two, only one… whatever, you get the picture… or not… it's MY BIRTHDAY FANTASY, so stop thinking about it! (unless you are any of the mansicles listed above… then think about it… a lot… and call me.)

A new car. No not THIS, but I'd love THIS. Yes really, I've always wanted a hippy mobile minus the smelly hippys.

Some new TOYS would be lovely. And by TOYS I think you all know I mean BOBs (Battery Operated Boyfriends). THIS would be lovely or THIS or even THIS except I don't have an iPod so you'd have to buy one to go with it. (Links on side bar will help you shop for theses items!)

Rechargable Batteries. One woman can not have too many of these. ;) And if I kept them all charged all the time, then K wouldn't get pissed at me for stealing the batteries out of the TV remote. Oh Pu-lease, I have NEEDS, I won't be denied!

A new BOOK! I'm dieing for a copy of Stardust by Neil Gaimen (actually just about anything by him). And as long as you get me that, you might want to give me about 4 kid free quiet hours to read said book, k? Thanks!

A maid. Male, scantily clad with a totally hot body. He doesn't have to speak English, just clean well and look GOOD at it. And cook, he need to be able to cook. (dude, I can't find photos of that on the net so maybe they are like the Easter Bunny and Open Minded Republicans – just a myth!)

Starbucks. Coffee is ALWAYS the right answer.

Okay, you have the list now GO! GO! Out Shopping! Show your love for me with GIFTS!*

*note – don't buy me presents! Just tell me happy birthday. ;) Don't spend money on me!

Of course… if you DID happen to get any of the mansicles for me, I certainly wouldn't turn them away – I mean not after all that effort and all that would just be rude.

How To Amuse Tiny Terrorists



Ahhhh nothing like shooting videos to keep the offspring from killing each other... I think the sound is a little loud tough.

I Got Nothin’

That’s exactly it, I have NOTHING for you today. Which is really no different than any other day really, so what the hell, I’ll blog anyway!

Birthday Kvetch

I turn 36 on Saturday (fuck you to all of you who are all “Wow, I totally thought she was older than that!”) and I have no plans! Well let me clarify, I have LOTS of offers for things to do, none of them are what I really WANT to do. I have an offer to go see Hairspray with two lovely gay men and the offspring, I have an offer to go to the rennie gathering, I have offers from various hot male persons who want to take me to dinner/movie/bed/dessert/etc. Honestly I don’t really want to do any of that. Eh, I’ll probably stay home and do laundry. I know, I’m exciting. Oh yeah, I just discovered that the milk EXPIRES on my birthday... is that a SIGN? Eh, probably not, I don't drink milk anyway.

Another Reason To Continue Making Voodoo Dolls

K is leaving to go out of town on business. He’s leaving the day after my birthday and won’t be home until the 20th. So not only do I get a whole week with the offspring BY MY SELF, but his trip is over my Birthday party!

Enough said… I need more pins for this doll…

Laundry

Damn I hate doing laundry, and only because I have soooo damn much! Anyway, my love see is covered (as always) with clean laundry and my offspring are currently pretending the clean laundry is falling on them and eating them alive. Maybe I used too much fabric softener.

Disney Dreams

I’m thinking of bringing a class action lawsuit against Disney. Why? For all those damn movies I watched while growing up where the animals were helpful and helped the heroine clean house! I’ve been working relentlessly to teach my cats to help around the house and all I get from them is the occasional hairball thrown up on the floor. They are completely worthless. Anyone want to join me in my quest for justice from Disney induced delusions?

5 am Wake Up Call

I got up at 5 am today. On my day off, I got up at 5 am to walk around the park with a friend and my oldest progeny. That’s insane! I’ll do it again on Monday because, well I told her I would. What were you doing at 5 am this morning?

Okay, that’s all.. I told you I had nothing ;)

The Ridiculousness Of Casa De Karmically Challenged

Yesterday, about lunchtime I see Coco the Wonder Dog come striding out of the kitchen with a hot dog in her mouth. I voiced a question to both of my progeny, “Why does the dog have a HOT DOG?” The answer came from my youngest and least sane who scampered toward the kitchen with me in tow while saying, “I wanted to have hot dogs for lunch so I took them out!” Once in the kitchen I saw that indeed she had taken them out of the fridge, which leads me to say, “Cabbage Patch, we don’t put the hot dogs where the DOG can get them! Don’t put food on the step stool. Coco thinks it’s HER food.” And we wonder why the dog never eats her dog food.

Webkinz Mania

How fucking pathetic is this? K and I were both logged on to the Tiny Terrorists accounts playing games against each other for the past 30 minutes. I have to say, he’s a lot harder to beat at checkers than an 8 year old! Sheesh, at least I regained my honor by whipping his ass at their version of battle ship… and if the damn site hadn’t gotten bogged down, I’ll still be beating him down like a clown! And the best part? I won Webkinz money for Cabbage Patch’s horse! I’m such a GOOD MOM!

Day of Dorkitude

Yesterday was not only a LONG day for me but one fraught with dorkyness. But what can I say, I am the Duchess of Dorkdome. I locked up the bakery register and when I got someone to come fix it, it had apparently fixed it self (as it I just didn’t realize it wasn’t locked up), I couldn’t find my invoices for my deliveries for that day, I almost forgot to bake my bread, I made a lovely cake – the wrong freaking size! Then when I went home briefly I found out a friend is extremely pissed at me for something I did not do – I more than likely have completely lost the friendship (which is terribly painful to know), had to disappoint my children by telling them that they could not go swimming since I had to go to a meeting for work that night – I resorted to bribery to stop the tears, I’m not proud of it, but I did it. Whatever. That day is over. Today is a NEW DAY! And it’s RAINING! And my power has been flicker on and off! AND I got a $4 off coupon for a carton of cigarettes! How great is that? It’s not. I don’t smoke! Talk about the wrong target audience. Well I’m going to go drown my issues in a nice cup of coffee. Mmmmmm coffee, Starbucks coffee… almost as good as sex… ALMOST.

Terrorist Scout Trip



Saturday was quite the adventure. Mac Gyver and I took a trip to the hereto unheard of town of Frognot Texas. Why? Because we could. I haven’t watched the news but it’s quite possible that if you hear of possible terrorist activities in a small North Texas town, that might have been us. See we thought it would be really fabulous to take photos in Frognot, ya know to commemorate our grand adventure and prove to people that it does in fact exist – though the estimate population is something spectacular like I don’t know, 10 or 15. Anyway, at the point that we were stopped on the side of the highway taking photos of the water tower (because it has a frog on it) I realized that it was quite possible someone might think we were terrorists since we were taking photos of the local water supply. Mac Gyver and I laughed about this while stopping at a convenience store to get ice-cold beverages and I surmised that despite there being a few actual witnesses to our shady photography we were probably safe from detection. Reason being that as soon as anyone mentioned TERRORISTS the local yokels would automatically assume that to be terrorists, we would have to be Middle Eastern men with full beards. Luckily, I waxed recently. An executive decision was made that our terrorist cell would henceforth be called The Divine Bovines and that our scouting trip had to continue into the neighboring towns. What the hell, we managed to get to Frognot without getting lost why not push our luck?

Whitewright Mostly Right

We motored into Whitewright shortly before the sidewalks were rolled up and headed for the ‘Historic Downtown’ for some shopping. What we discovered:
• Their ‘Downtown’ is about a block long
• The flower shop had moved next door and was closed for the day
• There is a Curves there, though it appeared to be closed midday Saturday
• There is only one and I mean ONE store worth going into
• The Webkinz are a fucking bargain there
• I’m a sucker for my kids
• I purchased a Webkin
• I actually purchased 2
• Mac Gyver has more resolve against spending than I do
• That poor woman who owned the store just about talked us to death she’s so starved for human contact
• Most of the realtor places ‘downtown’ were closed
• The listings were posted on the window
• We could buy a ‘fixer upper’ on a shit load of land for almost nothing
• It was out in the freaking boonies though
• And by ‘fixer upper’ they meant “Walls still standing, roof still on, but you’ll need to fucking gut the place to make it livable”
• I would hate living in the country.
• This place sucks.

Outlet For Supplies

Satisfied that we experienced all that Whitewright had to offer, we headed for civilization. The Outlet mall near my house! Oh, the discoveries were many! I won’t bore you with the details – just give you the highlights:
• Black leather hair bands with little skulls on them are awesome!
• 15 year olds in Ramones tee-shirts make me laugh
• Places that give out samples rock
• The Harry & David outlet is still to freaking expensive – but the samples are to die for
• Leaving a store with a bag full of Buddha’s and a couple of good luck frogs is AWESOME

After spending most of my vast fortune (lie), we had a gourmet meal of Taco Bell and discussed our terrorist activities for the day. It was decided that the Divine Bovines terrorist scout mission was a complete success and should be repeated.

Politely Racist

I’ve discussed before how I happen to work with some conservative Christian co-workers. One of them happens to be of the fun sort of conservative Christian, the fundamental, judgmental, somewhat racist, conservative Christian. We’ll call her Peg because that’s not her real name and if she ever Google’s her real name, despite the fact that it’s fairly common, I’d rather her not find this because it’s utterly truthful and really awful of her.

Recently there was a lovely cake that was made, sort of a wedding/anniversary cake that is often used for bridal showers and all. It has a couple of hearts on it and looks lacy and all that happy crap. When Peg got to the point of putting the names on and saw that it was TWO GIRL names she said, “I hope this cake isn’t for two girls!” and got her knickers in a knot. I casually said “Well maybe it’s just a birthday cake.” To which she countered that it had wedding bells and all on it. Then for the next 20 minutes I had the joy of hearing Peg and Sue (my other CCC) go on about what if the cake really is for a couple of lesbians, and would Peg have done the cake if it was, and all that until it finally ended with Sue telling Peg about some jack ass talk radio program she listened to who had some speaker on who UESED TO BE GAY and I had to stifle my urge to say “Used to be gay? That just means he’s in the closet until someone catches him in the bathroom of a truck stop paying a male prostitute to give him head.” BUT I didn’t. After all, as I told a friend, I’m not there to make a political statement, I’m there to earn a paycheck. Quite frankly, people like that can’t be reasoned with – ignorance and intolerance are hard to get rid of. After they had that conversation I really, really hoped it WAS for a LESBIAN couple and that they would pick it up while she was still working, hand in hand, chains on their wallets, snuggled up to each other, wearing their Melissa Etheridge t-shirts.

As if that wasn’t enough for one day, just a bit later Peg was telling Sue about being at a public park with her husband and daughter. Part way through the story she says “Now I’m not RACIST, but…” and went on to tell about all the TRASHY MEXICANS that were there. As we all know, any statement that starts like that is going to be extremely racist. This time I tuned out their patter, with occasional parts of it filtering through my mind humming Amy Winehouse’s Rehab. In that one conversation they covered the ‘trashy Mexicans’, how they need to learn English, not be on welfare and stop coming over here – well she said ILLEGALY, but you know she really meant AT ALL. Racist.

I’ve worked there for 2 months and I really wish I could say that this was the FIRST time I heard her say such things, but it’s not. I’ve figured out that anytime she’s going to say some horrible sweeping comment about a group of non white people that she’ll start it with “I’m not RACIST, but…” to make it all polite and sweet. I guess I’ll have to remember that, next time I have something snarky to say about hypocritical conservative Christians I’ll just say “I’m not racist, but…” first and then she can’t get pissed at me. (Eyes rolling up in head)

In My Next Life



I’m going to come back as a man. I’m going to be the dad. I’m going to be the one who doesn’t have to worry about changing my plans for anyone else. I’m going to be the ‘baby-sitter’ not the ‘care giver’. I’m going to be the fun one, not the disciplinarian. I’ll be the one asking about where dinner is and not the one making it. I’ll be the one taking out a bag of garbage and calling it a day, not the one washing a mountain of laundry. My next life I will possess the penis. Right now I’ll settle for being the one who makes the voodoo dolls and plots horribly uncomfortable circumstances.



note – this is just me being pissed and venting a little. I’m not discounting all the marvelous dads who do it ALL and I do know a few most fabulous men do it all and more… And I’m available to any of you wonderful men who are reading this ;)



Mood Music: Amy Winehouse – Stronger Than Me



You should be stronger than me
You been here 7 years longer than me
Don't you know you're supposed to be the man,
Not pal in comparison to who you think I am,

You always wanna talk it through - I don't care!
I always have to comfort you when I'm there
But that's what I need you to do - stroke my hair!

Cos' I've forgotten all of young love's joy,
Feel like a lady, but you my lady boy,

You should be stronger than me,
But instead you're longer than frozen turkey,
Why'd you always put me in control?
All I need is for my man to live up to his role,
Always wanna talk it through- I'm ok,
Always have to comfort you every day,
But that's what I need you to do - are you gay?

Cause I've forgotten all of young love's joy
Feel like a lady, and you my lady boy

He said 'the respect I made you earn -
Thought you had so many lessons to learn'
I said 'You don't know what love is - get a grip!' -
Sounds as if you're reading from some other tired script

I'm not gonna meet your mother anytime
I just wanna rip your body over mine
So tell me why you think that's a crime

I've forgotten all of young love's joy
Feel like a lady, and you my lady boy

You should be stronger than me
You should be stronger than me
You should be stronger than me

The Motivation Train Has Left The Station!

Damn, I don’t feel like going to work today. No particular reason other than I’d like to just sleep until noon.

Someone come make me coffee! And breakfast… I like my eggs over easy.

Not As Planned…

So my tough love approach day didn’t go as planned. Partly because it was my day off and I ended up snoozing late. The day didn’t improve much, about the time I decided to take a shower I discovered that the water was turned off for some fucking reason. DAMN! Fine no shower, I could do house work until the water was on… or could I? Nope, seems you actually NEED water to do laundry and wash dishes – and the dog just didn’t feel like licking anymore dirty plates for me. DAMN! Okay fine, what next? Oh I needed to go to the grocery store. Well that wasn’t going to happen until after I hit the showers, there was no way I was going to head outside with raccoon eyes and dirty hair. Ah well it worked out after all, the water magically came back on, I forced my irritable offspring to take a nap and I did get a shower.

Awesomeness

Yesterday I did the MOST AWESOME cake ever. It was a big lion! My boss was rather impressed and took photos of the cake. I went back yesterday evening and took photos of the cake myself – If I ever get a damn card reader for this camera, I’ll share the amazing photos with everyone.

Okay, must go muster up some motivation to go to work now.

Tough Love

Sometimes being a parent means you have to do things that piss of your kids. Tonight my kids are STILL awake, I put them to bed at 9 pm and they are still AWAKE just messing around in their room. Tomorrow I will wake them bright and early and make sure we have a nice active day so they will go the hell to bed at 9 pm tomorrow night. I almost hope they stay up later.

Why I Hate Pants

Recently I made a spur of the moment purchase of some white Capri pants. Now before I go any further, you must know (or not, depends on what you WANT to know) that I HATE shopping for pants, I HATE it. I look HORRIBLE in pants. I’ll admit it, even my beloved camo Capri pants. I look H O R R I B L E. I have the WORST body shape for pants and subsequently I prefer to wear shorts (which really don’t look that much better but they generally aren’t 3-6 inches too long) or skirts. Anyway, like I said, I had a moment of insanity and bought a pair of pants – in my haste I grabbed the next size up. I thought that would be fine, I thought my big behind would compensate. I was wrong. I went for a walk with my offspring today and spent a lot of time hiking my pants up. It was truly a lovely sight. Damn I hate pants on me. And now I have pants that are too big for me. If anyone wants them, let me know!

Gas Station Romance

Something else odd happened to me today other than discovering that my pants were not fitting me. I stopped in a gas station with my progeny to get them drinks. As I dug out the correct change for Abu he made small talk with me. Then he asked me if my daughters were all I had as far as kids. I said yes, just two girls. Then he gets this strange look in is eyes like he was about to ask me out to a romantic dinner and says “Well maybe in the future you will.” I suddenly felt like I needed some Lysol and said something like “Well you never know. Have a great day!” and got the hell out of there before I had to throw the slushies on this man. It was creepy.

Just In

Said to me: Mommy, Coco needs to brush her teeth! She’s got bad breath.
Me: She’s a DOG! She’s supposed to have dog breath! Besides, why were you smelling the dog’s breath?

Tingling With Geekiness

I just finished a discussion with K about a creature on Star Trek and whether it was sentient. The conversation was carried over to an online friend for more discussion and debate. We’ve moved on to etymology. Though this is the same friend I told would end up with calluses on his penis for spanking, his monkey to what he says is an ‘unnatural amount of times a day’.

And now, because it’s late and I’m in an odd mood… it’s time to LETTERS FROM ME! It’s been a while since I’ve done this but here goes.

Dear Strange Old Man in the Store;

PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE stop walking around with your hand on your junk while you shop. I realize you are really old and it’s probably just that you are at the stage in your life where you forget things so you just keep a hold of that to make sure you DID in fact put it in your pants this morning, but REALLY – it’s making me kind of sick. I swear I threw up a little bit in my mouth.

Sincerely,
Grossed Out A Lot

Dear Management Team From A Store That isn’t Wally World but Is Still Super;

WTF is with you coming into the bakery to scope out the cake decorator (me) in such a bold manner? You people creeped me out.

Warmest Regards;
Don’t Want To Work For You

Dearest Lovely Local Firemen;

Thank you for walking through the bakery. Please walk slower.

Lustfully Yours,
I’ve Got Rechargeable Batteries

Dear Tiny Terrorists;

I don’t care that you are bored. Stop telling me about it, it won’t make you less bored, you’ll just be bored AND in the corner. It’s not my fault; blame the powers that be who don’t want YEAR ROUND SCHOOL – fucking commies.

Suck it up.

Love,
Mom

Dear Coco;

Stop sleeping in my bed when I’m gone bitch!

Love
The One Who Feeds You

Dear Guy Friend;

Start that damn blog! The secrets MUST be told.

Anonymously;
Me

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...

My Culinary Expertise!

Said just now by Cabbage Patch: Mom, is dinner ready?
Me: No.
Her: You should have microwaved it.

Ah yes, cooking advice from the child who eats barbeque sauce sandwiches.

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?

Filling Space And Amuseing Myself!

imjudypooh.blogspot.com/

WANTED FOR THE WRETCHED DEFAMATION of a DISAGREEABLE SACK OF POTATOES

$2400

What's Your Blog Wanted For?


You can ask Mystic about that, she's my accomplice!

I am 67% Addicted to Coffee

See??? I CAN stop anytime I like! I just prefer to stop at Starbucks for a nice Vanilla Soy Latte!

I Scored a 73%!

And THIS is why I (usually) use SPELL CHECK!

$5265.00The Cadaver Calculator - Find out how much your body is worth. From Mingle2

Hmmmmm.... I wonder how much K is worth dead?... just wondering!

I Rate!

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.

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.

Happy Friday The 13th Birthday To Cabbage Patch!!

Today is the actual birthday of my youngest offspring. Last Saturday we had her oh so fun birthday party, at a local park. As the day approached, I was mildly worried about the weather as it had been raining for like a month straight or something insane like that in a place where even GETTING rain in the month of July is such a rare occurrence that most people would have a party for that reason alone. But not this year, for some reason – global warming/depleted ozone/nuclear fall out/Commies/apocalyptic storm/celestial grudge/Republicans in office – the area has been getting torrential amounts of rain and as of a week ago today, we hadn’t had a dry day in a while. Not that it mattered; I was still going to have the party at the park. I had a large pavilion reserved, games for kids to play and a fucking scary huge Dora The Explorer piñata chocked full of crap! We were having that party! (Oh yeah, I also did not have a back up plan.)

Saturday arrived with no rain! About 10 am, I realized that this was the first absolutely perfect rain free day we’d had in a while and that we better get our asses in gear and to the park before other people realized it and decided to have a picnic at the pavilion I reserved. I would not hesitate to put the throw down on someone – I had a fucking scary huge Dora The Explorer and I would not be denied my pavilion!

We arrived about 11 am and started setting up amid a chorus of whiny voices claiming to be bored and wanting to go to the splash pad RIGHT THEN. Set up was pretty quick, even with K having to go back home to get the bag of stuff we forgot. With 10 minutes before guests were to arrive the ever so bored Tiny Terrorists took to sitting RIGHT IN FRONT of the cake and peeking into the box.

Okay, I know… Boring you! I’m boring myself. Let me cut to the interesting parts…

Water Balloons!

This actually only took place between the Tiny Terrorist and their cousin as no one else had shown up yet. I made the game interesting (for me) by making the rule that the Little People could not throw the water balloons at any grown up. The dads made their own rule by yelling to not throw them near the grill. Whatever, I had fun pelting the Little People.

Pin The Tail On The Donkey

A perfect game for the 8 and under crowd and great for a group of 6 of them. Shortly before people arrived, I realized I had forgotten the PRIZES for the game! My only hope was that none of them had actually PLAYED the game and KNEW about that part. And as luck would have it – they hadn’t! I was quite amused when I put the blindfold on each one and they said “Hey! I can’t see!” I kept repeating “You aren’t supposed to!” It was quite amusing to watch them – they played the game three times before I got bored and shoved them off towards other things.

Kill Dora!

Anticipating that the overstuffed Dora piñata would explode in a shower of candy and plastic trinkets early on, I let Cabbage Patch be the first to smack Dora. My anticipations were quite wrong. Despite the fact that Dora was merely taped with Scotch tape, she held on for 2 and a half rounds of beatings. Moreover, to be quite honest it looked more like a lynching than anything else… Dora strung up in a tree being beaten with a stick for other people’s amusement… sick really… but I digress. When she did finally succumb to the torture and give up her sugary booty, it was hilarious to watch the kids – who had to actually be TOLD to PICK UP the candy!

CAKE!

Everybody loves cake!

Between each of these events, my oldest was afflicted with a severe whining flu to which I had to tell her that if she didn’t stop the whining that the rabid squirrels in the park would come running out of the trees and eat her brain. She didn’t believe me.

Sadly, I did not stay to see the kids play on the splash pad as I left the party abruptly after serving cake so as to not make the party memorable in a really BAD way. I apologize to everyone at the party for my seemingly rude behavior but I felt horrible. Thank you all who brought her gifts despite the invite clearly saying NO PRESENTS. We’ll be getting out Thank You cards soon.

Anyway… I must force my children to get dressed now that they are clean. Have a delightful Friday the 13th!

Helping Bring A Touch Of Hate To Every Day

My offspring hate me from time to time every day. It’s healthy for them. It makes them appreciate the HAPPY times even more. I do what I can since I’m not raising my children in abject poverty and neglect. Just extreme sarcasm with a touch of smart-assness. Lately my offspring have been developing their own sarcasm and I can not tell you the intense pride I feel… well when it’s not directed at ME, because when it is directed at me then I just get the urge to ground them until they are 30 or so. My youngest progeny just this morning replied my request for help making breakfast with a curt “I’m not your personal chef!” My urge to shove her into the oven was quickly over rode by admiration as I’ve said that exact line or a variation to her just about every day for the past few years. The elder of the progeny has developed the ability to roll her eyes. Usually at me. Which just pisses me off, so I guess she’s succeeded in mission. Though I often wonder if her mission is to set a record for the child who has spent the most time standing in the corner. Cabbage Patch is still working on her eye rolling technique, smartly she has chosen to practice on her sister and not in response to me. I’m very proud of both of them as I hadn’t developed these talents until I was at least 9.

Damn Menopausal Computer

Fucking computer of mine. It’s still having heat issues. K left recently to go procure my computer a new fan as I have yet to locate the Estrogen program for the computer. And just like a tempermental computer, it’s working FINE since he walked out the door. I hate this computer some days. (K brought home a brand fan with a brand new SUPER screwdriver and I installed it all by myself! The fan, not the screwdriver… I used the screwdriver to install the fan silly!)

72 Months Old!

That’s right, my youngest Tiny Terrorist turns 72 months on the 13th! Woohoo! What? Did you have to get a calculator to figure out that she would be 6?!?!?!?! Well so did I… actually I had to use the calculator to figure out the month part, but WHATEVER! Back to me and my HATE. I absolutely HATE it when people refer to their child’s age in months after they are about a year and a half to 2 years old. Come on people! If your kid can actually tell someone they are 2 or 3 then stop looking like an obsessive compulsive totally neurotic child absorbed nitwit and stop with the month thing. Nobody but you gives a fuck how old your child is to the EXACT month. Next thing you’ll say is that you keep track of exactly how many times your kid takes a shit during the day! (please, don’t tell me if you do… I don’t need to know about your sick fetishes.)

(*Dude! I totally suck! I just hit my kid in the head with the telephone. It was an ACCIDENT! Stop looking at me like that!)

Gag Me!

Nothing is more disgusting than dog barf! Yes, dog barf trumps even cat vomit for grossness. Yesterday right after a nap on the sofa Coco decided to hurl on a sock on the floor. It was so vile I did the only thing I could do. Which was yell for K to come clean up the dog barf. No really, it was that bad – worse than any of the times my progeny has spewed on me. Then I told him to just throw away the sock because I couldn’t imagine ever being able to wear it again even if it was washed and bleached a few dozen times (well that and it wouldn’t fit me anyway – not my sock!).

Okay, that’s enough hate for one day. I’ll be back soon with the recap of Cabbage Patch’s birthday and all the toys that give me the urge to disembowel the person who purchased them for my offspring. I know! You can’t wait!!!