"The freedom of Cross Country is so primitive. It's woman vs. nature.
Lynn Jennings"
Obviously this bitch has never been to a Free People sample sale where there are only three sizes in the double-digits in the entire place. Slapping a fellow Fatty for a sweater, now that's primitive bitches.
I'm back, hide your children.
Friday, January 13, 2012
Sunday, April 3, 2011
Declaration Sunday
"I wiped my jango! Can I have a candy now?"
This is what my three-year old yelled at 7:20 this morning. I think it is the making of a good Sunday.
Why doesn't anyone give me a candy when I wipe my jango? Or anyone else's jango? Or the three bums that I wipe? If I got a candy for every jango, penis and bum I wiped I'd be giving Willy flippin Wonka a run for his money.
Gotta go, the little one is in the corner grunting away. Not a good sign.
This is what my three-year old yelled at 7:20 this morning. I think it is the making of a good Sunday.
Why doesn't anyone give me a candy when I wipe my jango? Or anyone else's jango? Or the three bums that I wipe? If I got a candy for every jango, penis and bum I wiped I'd be giving Willy flippin Wonka a run for his money.
Gotta go, the little one is in the corner grunting away. Not a good sign.
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Way to F up my Sunday morning Abercrombie!
Ok, so I am on this total awesome weekend high. Had a great time with friends last night. Let Big E sleep in while I got up with the kids (popped two frozen waffles in the toaster and parked them both in front of the electric baby-sitter so I could surf the web with my coffee in peace). And, I have an awesome date with my three year old today.
Whilst surfing the internets, I discover a little media buzz over A&F and their push-up padded bikini top for the 7-13 crowd. I've got two words for you on the is one, Fucking Gross! Yes, I had to drop the big f-bomb on this one. That is how disgusted I am with this.
I can't believe how over the top blazing mad I am at this. Yes, they have since changed the description but still, whuckity whuck whuck whuck whuck? Who thought this was a good idea? Who? Who? Who?
Sorry for the rant. I promise to post a funny by midnight tonight but I am seeing red and ready to lock and load on this craziness.
Whilst surfing the internets, I discover a little media buzz over A&F and their push-up padded bikini top for the 7-13 crowd. I've got two words for you on the is one, Fucking Gross! Yes, I had to drop the big f-bomb on this one. That is how disgusted I am with this.
I can't believe how over the top blazing mad I am at this. Yes, they have since changed the description but still, whuckity whuck whuck whuck whuck? Who thought this was a good idea? Who? Who? Who?
Sorry for the rant. I promise to post a funny by midnight tonight but I am seeing red and ready to lock and load on this craziness.
Friday, February 4, 2011
Courntey Love Rocks the Preschool
We have been long time fans of Little Otter Swim School. I have reached the time and place in my life where it is in every ones best interest if I don't leave the house without make-up,swimming lessons included (I have to get in with Fat, that's a whole other rant, my friends).
In keeping with this theory, should be a "world wide law", I recently purchased some waterproof mascara from Target. Let me tell you, that $hit was waterproof, chisel-proof and I am almost certain it was acid proof! Could not get it off that night.
I did however manage to rub it in to all of the cracks and crevices (fine, wrinkles) around my eyes. I am way too old to work the heroine chic angle! It didn't come off that night, maybe I'll have better luck tomorrow morning.
Morning. Still won't come off. Now I am looking like I just totally stumbled in from a night club with my dry and crusty weeping widow funeral face. I keep rubbing, still not coming off but now making my eyes totally bloodshot. Not helping the look in the least.
This all would be fine if I could just hibernate the day away. Unfortunately, I have a parent-teacher conference at The G's preschool. awesome, really.
I vow to just keep my head down and let Big E do all the talking until he springs on me his totally forgotten dentist appointment.
Courtney Love will have to handle this one solo.
Way to go asshat.
(Still not sure if that asshat is directed at me or Big E, could be both>)
In keeping with this theory, should be a "world wide law", I recently purchased some waterproof mascara from Target. Let me tell you, that $hit was waterproof, chisel-proof and I am almost certain it was acid proof! Could not get it off that night.
I did however manage to rub it in to all of the cracks and crevices (fine, wrinkles) around my eyes. I am way too old to work the heroine chic angle! It didn't come off that night, maybe I'll have better luck tomorrow morning.
Morning. Still won't come off. Now I am looking like I just totally stumbled in from a night club with my dry and crusty weeping widow funeral face. I keep rubbing, still not coming off but now making my eyes totally bloodshot. Not helping the look in the least.
This all would be fine if I could just hibernate the day away. Unfortunately, I have a parent-teacher conference at The G's preschool. awesome, really.
I vow to just keep my head down and let Big E do all the talking until he springs on me his totally forgotten dentist appointment.
Courtney Love will have to handle this one solo.
Way to go asshat.
(Still not sure if that asshat is directed at me or Big E, could be both>)
Monday, January 31, 2011
Hipster.
Dear Hip Hipster,
I see you driving your 3 series BMW, talking on your iphone while playing only the whitest of the Hip Hop tunes. Your lookin' awesome in what I can only image are a pair of $300 True Religion jeans, truly. The only problem is you're cruising along in a 50 MPH zone at the ripe speed of 30. Now I am pretty sure the inner Bimmer code is, "drive it like you stole it" and since you are clearly breaking that rule (my effing 3 year old is screaming faster! faster!) I am going to have to ask you to head straight up Independence, hang a right at Hendrick BMW and trade 'er in. You've currently been relieved of your stylish car driving status. I am also going to need what little raisins of a set you must have left.
Don't forget to pick up the keys to your "new to you" '07 Camry. Someone's Grandma died and she left it in the parking lot for you.
Douche drivers drive me insane!
Have you missed me girls? :)
I see you driving your 3 series BMW, talking on your iphone while playing only the whitest of the Hip Hop tunes. Your lookin' awesome in what I can only image are a pair of $300 True Religion jeans, truly. The only problem is you're cruising along in a 50 MPH zone at the ripe speed of 30. Now I am pretty sure the inner Bimmer code is, "drive it like you stole it" and since you are clearly breaking that rule (my effing 3 year old is screaming faster! faster!) I am going to have to ask you to head straight up Independence, hang a right at Hendrick BMW and trade 'er in. You've currently been relieved of your stylish car driving status. I am also going to need what little raisins of a set you must have left.
Don't forget to pick up the keys to your "new to you" '07 Camry. Someone's Grandma died and she left it in the parking lot for you.
Douche drivers drive me insane!
Have you missed me girls? :)
Monday, January 10, 2011
Bret Michaels is No Friend of Mine.
Let me start by sharing how I came to give my, (clears throat) bowel movements, the name Bret Michaels.
My friend Melanie has this deep love for the man Bret Michaels. And for the past several years she has some how sucked a group of us in to attending his *concerts* whenever he comes to town. I have been pregnant for the past few years so I've missed out on some of his recent engagements.
Anyway, one year either Melanie or another friend, Crazy Helen, got the idea that they wanted to make t-shirts to wear to the concert. I was not there on t-shirt making day. I show up the night of the concert and these two, proud as f*ing punch, show off the shirts that they've made for us to wear. The shirts have, no lie, "I Love BM" on the front. Whuck? And these two nut jobs don't get why I am hesitant to wear a shirt with "I Love BM" on it. Long discussion, blah, blah, blah, and some how I am talked in to wearing the shirt. I am sure that there was alcohol involved but anyway.
And from this, I now refer to my bowel movements as Bret Michaels.
OK, so Bret Michaels on a regular basis has never been a friend of mine. If I "entertain" Bret Michaels three times a week, it is a miracle. As I sit here getting older by the second I am beginning to become more and more aware (completely paranoid) about how unhealthy these extended visits really are. How much damage can this cause, or how much damage has it already caused. Has Bret Michaels had his way with my health? Bastard!
Jamie Lee Curtis is trying to shove yogurt down my throat in hopes of opening up my poop shoot but try as JLC might, I am just not that into yogurt. I like yogurt but I don't love it and I am sure as hell not going to eat it every.damn.day.
So, I start thinking about probiotics and taking one on a daily basis. Google away and holy shooty hoos! I've got more information, choices, brands, good ones, bad ones . . . than I can shake a stick at.
Too much!!!! my ADHD-self screams! I just need to find a magic pooping pill!
Like with anything that overwhelms me, I ran as far away as possible. So, for now, if Bret Michaels has over stayed his welcome and things start to feel a little crampy and tight between us, I'll just have to stick with one of my two stand-bys: Eddie's Place for their smoked sausage and french toast (my friend Melanie will attest to this) or if I am short on time, a venti mocha latte from the 'bucks.
Whatever it takes Bret Michaels, whatever it takes.
My friend Melanie has this deep love for the man Bret Michaels. And for the past several years she has some how sucked a group of us in to attending his *concerts* whenever he comes to town. I have been pregnant for the past few years so I've missed out on some of his recent engagements.
Anyway, one year either Melanie or another friend, Crazy Helen, got the idea that they wanted to make t-shirts to wear to the concert. I was not there on t-shirt making day. I show up the night of the concert and these two, proud as f*ing punch, show off the shirts that they've made for us to wear. The shirts have, no lie, "I Love BM" on the front. Whuck? And these two nut jobs don't get why I am hesitant to wear a shirt with "I Love BM" on it. Long discussion, blah, blah, blah, and some how I am talked in to wearing the shirt. I am sure that there was alcohol involved but anyway.
And from this, I now refer to my bowel movements as Bret Michaels.
OK, so Bret Michaels on a regular basis has never been a friend of mine. If I "entertain" Bret Michaels three times a week, it is a miracle. As I sit here getting older by the second I am beginning to become more and more aware (completely paranoid) about how unhealthy these extended visits really are. How much damage can this cause, or how much damage has it already caused. Has Bret Michaels had his way with my health? Bastard!
Jamie Lee Curtis is trying to shove yogurt down my throat in hopes of opening up my poop shoot but try as JLC might, I am just not that into yogurt. I like yogurt but I don't love it and I am sure as hell not going to eat it every.damn.day.
So, I start thinking about probiotics and taking one on a daily basis. Google away and holy shooty hoos! I've got more information, choices, brands, good ones, bad ones . . . than I can shake a stick at.
Too much!!!! my ADHD-self screams! I just need to find a magic pooping pill!
Like with anything that overwhelms me, I ran as far away as possible. So, for now, if Bret Michaels has over stayed his welcome and things start to feel a little crampy and tight between us, I'll just have to stick with one of my two stand-bys: Eddie's Place for their smoked sausage and french toast (my friend Melanie will attest to this) or if I am short on time, a venti mocha latte from the 'bucks.
Whatever it takes Bret Michaels, whatever it takes.
Thursday, January 6, 2011
Pancakes and Preseco? Starbucks and the Elephant Man?
Had a great morning with one of my funniest friends. Do you have a friend, or friends, that crack you up? I really hope that you do. I am fortunate to have quite a few.
I am amazed how at the ripe old age of 41 a chat with your friend(s) still means so much. My G is the world, Fat is my heart and Big E is my rock. My girlfriends though, can just slay me with a look, the lift of an eyebrow, the curl of a lip. When you have your besties the world is a doable place. You can conquer all.
A little more me time was one of my ressies for the new year. It started with a pancake breakfast and ended with a few morning drinks (Ha!) Laughed my ass off today talking about, ok so we were imitating him, the Elephant Man over a Starbucks.
So glad I am sticking to my January ressie.
Mad love girls. :)
I am amazed how at the ripe old age of 41 a chat with your friend(s) still means so much. My G is the world, Fat is my heart and Big E is my rock. My girlfriends though, can just slay me with a look, the lift of an eyebrow, the curl of a lip. When you have your besties the world is a doable place. You can conquer all.
A little more me time was one of my ressies for the new year. It started with a pancake breakfast and ended with a few morning drinks (Ha!) Laughed my ass off today talking about, ok so we were imitating him, the Elephant Man over a Starbucks.
So glad I am sticking to my January ressie.
Mad love girls. :)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)