December 30, 2005

Oh my gawd. I’m just about peeing my pink lace panties. K’Fed has his own website now. You know K’Fed right? He’s the ‘I wanna be a rapper just like Eminem but I’m a little too white trash to do that but I am married to a greasy, trashy strip, err, singer named Brit Brit and I gots me my own website’ fake rapper dude. If you click HERE you can see for your own little ’selves. He’s such a joke (and by that I mean….he makes me HOWL with laughter).

He’s even got his own “My space” site. Paaaaaaaleeeeeese. Isn’t there enough garbage on the internet? Now we have to be bombarded with Kevin and his idiot ramblings about his life with Brit and their rugrats? But for a good laugh, do click HERE for his My space site. You will be in for a treat ’cause K’Fed plays his song called PopoZao. It sure is gonna be a hit. I can see it climbing the charts now. The depth and soul in that small sample sure shines through. Riiiiiiiiiiiiight. And you can even instant message with Kevin! Woo fucking Hoo! I be crackalackin’ with Kev Kev and got’s to tell my homies! Spread the shit, ah, I mean news people!

Hmmmm. Wasn’t he a back up dancer once? For his not then wife? Yes. Yes he was. And now he’s gonna release his own album on January 1st at midnight. Set your alarms people and get in line ’cause you sure don’t want to miss out on that. Gosh, I’ll be so excited the night before. Oh wait. No I won’t. I’d rather watch the weather channel and eat rocks than listen to that crap. Elmo’s Christmas album has more substance to it. But good luck Kev Kev with everything yo’….your new “album” (I use that term loosely), your “marriage” (again, using that term loosely), try not to piss mama off ’cause she just might take your car away again…sheesh, mind your p’s and q’s and you’ll be fine Kev. I guess that’s the sacrafices you have to make when you marry a redneck dancing money machine. Awww pooooor baaaaby. Let me see if I care about any of you………wait……….hold on………..ah………….ah…….hmmm……..it’s coming………………give me a sec…………….NOPE. But I must say, you do provide me and my friends with giddy laughter (Yes at your expense, but hey, you can afford it. You’s rich. Oh well, you’re not exactly, but your whore, oopsie, wife is). Hahahahaha.

Okay, so remember people, if you’re down and feeling a tad blue, click on Kev Kev’s 2 links above and I promise, you’ll be laughing your ass off in no time. Glad to be of service. ***Hopefully K’Fed won’t be all up in my grill for doggin’ on him or my baby daddy gonna haf to come and protec’ me and all***

December 28, 2005

I got a call from Sears on Dec 23rd, telling me that a parcel is in for my son. Super. I ask the lady on the other end of the talkbox if it’s at the **** location. She informs me that it’s not. It’s at the downtown location. Well now, that’s a problem because we aren’t downtown and nor will we be downtown anytime soon especially 2 days before Christmas. I ask her if they could send it up to the location near my home…the location it was supposed to be shipped to in the first place. She tells me it can be. Oh my gawd, be still my heart. Perfect.

I asked her how long it would take. A day? Two days? Maybe 3 or 4 since it’s right before Christmas? Nope. Three strikes and you’re out. It’s going to take 2 WEEKS. Two weeks? Ummm that’s 14 days. It takes about 20 minutes to drive from my house to downtown, give or take. And this lady is telling me it would take 2 freakin’ weeks to come from DT to where I am? Wow.

They could put a stamp on it and ship it the slowest possible way and it will still take A DAY to come from downtown. Not 14 days people. They could strap it to Tommy the turtle and put him up a hill with cold molasses smeared on his feet and the fucking turtle could still manage to get it from downtown to here in less than 2 weeks. That’s ridiculous.

I asked her if she was joking. She said no, she wasn’t joking. I said I would pay the shipping from there to here. Oh there was no need for that, but it would still take 2 weeks. How? How is that possible? Are they going to leave it on the shelf for, say, 12 days of fermenting and then ship it out on day 13 and I get it on day 14? Oh no, she tells me, they wouldn’t leave it there, they would get it out the next day for sure but it would still take 14 days. Okay, maybe I’m dense here but how the hell could it possibly take 2 fucking weeks to get from downtown to here if they sent it out tomorrow? I’m not getting it. Are they sending it by horse and buggy? And the horse has no legs and the buggy has no wheels? Help me here. Throw me a bone. Something.

She asks me what I wanted to do, so I ponder this for a moment and then I tell her we’ll send our 5 year old to walk down and get it. Because even though she’d most likely get lost along the way, I know she could eventually get there, get the package and get back home long before 2 weeks is up. Thanks Maddy…..see you in a day or two.

Can I just say……abso-freakin-lutely ridiculous? Two weeks. Ya. Right. Give me a break. Please.

December 25, 2005

This is my husband. He’s got an IQ of 48. He’s the brainiac of our family. He loves playing his banjo while picking his nose……he’s quite the multi-tasker. He enjoys eating his earwax.

I’m the ma. I put on my fancy scarf today. I love eating frozen fish sticks. I sometimes lick our metal flag pole on cold days. I love chewing my toes.

This is our oldest boy. He likes growing his toenails until they curl. He likes the smell of rotten cheese. He can count to 37. We’re so proud.

This is our oldest boy’s girlfriend. She is hoping to be in Playboy soon. She’s just waiting to have extensive hair removal. She sometimes eats our son’s belly button lint.

This is our 17 year old. He loves eating raw hamburger and burnt french fries. He can walk on all fours like nobody’s business. He so smart.

This is our youngest. She loves pulling the wings off of dead flies. She sometimes meows like a cat. She’s so purdy.

****Note….our youngest boy wanted no part of this…..I’m thinking he’s the smartest one of the lot. Merry Christmas from our home to yours.****

December 20, 2005

I don’t have any pets. Well we do have fish but I’m not sure if they truly qualify as ‘pets’. We used to have dogs and cats but since moving out here, we do not have any furry four legged friends living with us. However, when we did have dogs and/or cats, I loved them. Alot. BUT never once did I buy my pets presents. We didn’t give them birthday gifts nor did we wrap up trinkets and put under the tree at Christmas with their names written carefully on a cute name tag, like they’re going to read it and jump up in excitement that a package has their name on it. . I’m quite certain they didn’t care.


Well, today I’m watching tv and a commercial comes on for the new Chia Pet and it’s geared towards people’s cats. Hmmmmm. I’m pretty sure that cats don’t watch tv and I’m also pretty sure they don’t want a Chia Pet. And ummm, does a cat owner really want to buy this for their pet? It’s not like the cat is going to toss the seeds into the pot and then patiently wait for it to grow. The cat isn’t going to water their Chia Pet everyday, fingers…..errrr….paws crossed, that their new plant is going to start to sprout. That’s abso-freakin-lutely ridiculous. It’s retarded really.


The commercial shows a cat knocking over their owner’s house plants and the solution is to buy them their very own Chia Pet that they can eat. Huh?????? It’s fucking grass people. When I had cats, they sometimes ate grass and that was a bad thing. Ya. They would then come into the house and puke it up. So I’m pretty darn tootin’ sure that you don’t want to buy your cat a grass plant that they want to chew, then eat and then vomit up green mush. The big fat kitty on tv looks totally thrilled to have it’s very own Chia Pet to plant, water, eat and then barf up on their owner’s cream colored satin comforter. The ‘commercial’ owner is lovingly rubbing her kitty, all pleased with herself that she was smart enough to purchase this for her cat. Riiiiiiiiiight. And I bet she’s gonna be all happy when she wakes at 3am to pee and as she’s walking in the semi-dark hallway to her bathroom, she steps in the putrid shit mush that was once the purdy green grass growing from the Chia Pet’s ass. Oh but the Chia Pet for feline’s is in a mug type dish with Sylvester the cat attached to it. So that for sure is a cool selling point for kitty’s all over the world. Gawd. Give me a freakin’ break. Meow.

December 18, 2005

Minus 6 celcius……that’s 21 Fahrenheit…….that’s freakin’ cold. Plus that doesn’t include the windchill factor…..add that in and then it’s motherfucking cold out. And what do most people do when it’s -6? Well they probably don’t eat icecream OUTSIDE while walking home. But alas, that’s just what Maddy and I did the other day.



I had parcels to mail out for Christmas and decided to take Maddy to Burger King. Hmmmm, we ate HOT food inside the WARM establishment and then decided to get icecream for the chilly walk home. Seriously, that’s not very bright. And I guess I can’t blame the 5 year old in this situation. I mean I am the mom. I could have said, well that’s not a great idea since we’re walking and we’ll clearly freeze if we buy (and by ‘we’ I guess I mean ‘I’ since Maddy has no income really except for what change she scoffs from her dad) icecream and eat it outside.



I was in a big rush to get home so I told her I would get the icecream but that we’d have to eat it on the way home. She was totally fine with that. But then again, she’s 5 and the allure of icecream is very powerful so she’s not thinking of just how cold it will be.



So we get the icecream and our spoons and I get her bundled in the stroller. All that is showing is her face and her big puffy, hot pink mittens are holding the cup of cold, sweet love with smashed up Oreo cookies in it……………………………….ooops sorry, I was lost in the memory of that treat. Anyway, so we start on our way and within like 2 minutes we’re both realizing, well, gee, we aren’t the sharpest pencils in the HB box. Since I can’t see Maddy while I’m pushing the stroller, I stop and go around it to get a look at her. Well, she’s looking just a tad frozen. Her face is red from the wind, her lips are a weird shade of purple-y blue and her teeth are chattering. Okay, what mother in their right mind gives their young child fucking icecream to eat while it’s below ZERO on the Celcius scale? Not a very intelligent one apparently. Shit, I’m that mom. Super.



I tell Maddy that I will take her icecream and she can have it when we get home because clearly it ain’t melting anytime soon on the way home. Not unless the hot wind gods come in and blow, which I’m guessing is not happening. Maddy’s head starts kind of flailing around and for a split second I’m thinking she’s having some kind of seizure. I mean she doesn’t normally suffer from seizures, so why would she be having one today? But that’s the freak in me.



I soon realize she’s shaking her head no, and trying to tell me that she wants to finish eating the icecream. So through her pretty, now dark blue lips, she chatters out some words and I’m quite certain I heard, icecream, want, good, not cold and paws off so it’s obviously clear to me that if I take her icecream I will pay dearly when we get home. I tried people. But the heavenly goodness of Oreo’s smushed up in icecream out weighs the desire to get warm and have your lips back to their proper pinkish red color. Oh and by the way, my fingers were slightly frostbitten from holding my own Oreo goodness. Huhn huh. ***clears throat*** Hey, it was Oreo’s smashed up in icecream people….are you listening? Oreo’s in icecream.

December 14, 2005

Ya. So get the song Stayin’ Alive by the Bee Gees in your brain. Get bobbin’ your head and shoulders….feel the groove….now picture me walking down the street (if you’re not familiar with me, look at my profile and you’ll get an idea of what I look like incase you need to know that inorder to picture me boppin’ down the sidewalk…..anyhoooo), movin’ to the beat of this song.



I’m pushing a stroller with a 40lb kid in it, loaded up with some Xmas presents and I’m feelin’ pretty damn good because Mama’s got some cash in her purse.



Well, now imagine Stayin’ Alive playin’ on a turn table and someone bumps into the record player and the needle scrapes across the record like someone’s nails going down a chalkboard. The fun stops here. And the shit begins. Literally. Dog shit to be precise. Yup. You heard me.



I’m be-boppin’ down the sidewalk like some Disco queen who thinks she’s all that and more and then I feel like I’m slipping. And I am kinda……….in dog crap. Well FUCK ME. And it’s not some little priss ass dog that shits out pellets, it’s a big Golden Retriever.



I see the woman attached to the other end of that dog leash and I want to wrap it around her and not necessarily choke her but perhaps tie her up with it while I beat her with my now, dog shit covered shoe. So my carefree, light, dancing steps are now the rub, wipe, drag and swear steps. And know what the best part is???? The dog didn’t just stop and shit…..no no no, it’s shitting while it’s walking. OMG what kind of dog shits and walks? Dogs multi-task? Really? So far I’m not impressed. I don’t care if that dog can catch frisbees, sit pretty and bake like The Naked Chef……I just stepped in orange-ish/brown-ish mushy dog poo and no matter what you tell me about that dog, I will not care. Not one little bit. And ummm, just because Miss I Have A Multi-Tasking Mutt is pushing a stroller as well as walking her shit puppet, does not mean she can’t stop and clean up the dog’s mess. Unless her limbs have fallen off in the last 2 minutes, she can take the time to bag her mutt’s crap. Oh but maybe I should be happy because, gosh, had I gotten lost, I could have followed the nice little shit trail all the way to my street. Silver lining right? Riiiiiiiiiiiight.

December 13, 2005

This is one of my favorite photos. I took this in 1998 and it’s been published in a book called Wandering Spirits (released Dec 2003) put out by the International Library of Photography. Ryan was about 2 years old…..he was watching his dad shovel the driveway during a big snow storm. It’s one of those pictures that you can’t really plan, it was perfect lighting and a perfect unplanned pose and I got it in one shot. What luck! Thank you to Karen for telling me about this weekly theme! Muah! You can see the weekly themes HERE!

You never know what you might hear in this house (or our van, or the park, or the mall……you get the idea). Here are a couple of snippets of some conversations I overheard and/or was a part of on Sunday at our asylum and elsewhere.
Matt, Ryan and Maddy are sitting at the table. They’re looking at the Sears Wish Book….pretty innocent until they come to the bras.
Maddy:Oooo bras.
Matt: Ya, boring.
Ryan: Can I see?
Maddy: Ooo you want to wear a bra Ryan?
Ryan: Ummm No. I don’t have boobs.
Maddy:Oooo you have boobies…………….*Hesitates*………Can I see them?

We’re out on Sunday and Madison has figured out how to unbuckle her carseat unassissted. So of course she’s all excited about this. It’s a huge deal for her. So as we’re driving, she says she’s going to unbuckle.
Me: You will not unbuckle your carseat Miss.
Maddy: Well I can do it myself now, so I think I’ll try.
Me:You try it Missy and you’ll be sorry.
Maddy then proceeds to press on the clip to unbuckle herself. I hear her and turn and say….
Me: What do you think you’re doing?
Maddy: Weeeeeeelll you said to try it, so I am just following directions from my mother.
Can you spell SMARTASS?

Driving in the van, all 5 kids are with us….hubby is in a store.
Maddy: Ooo you’re a sexy mom.
Ryan: Mom is sexy?
Maddy: Ya. And Amanda is sexy. And so am I.
Ryan: Whatever.
Amanda: Hey, Sean said you’re a MILF. (I’m totally assuming this was in reference to others thinking this and not my son personally.)
Me: What? OMG. Really?
Sean: **Whispering** OMG I can’t believe you just told my mom that.
Amanda: What? You said it.
Matt: OMG are we home yet?
Ryan: Nope, we’re not.
Sean: Ooops.
Me: What?
Sean: Oh nothing.
Amanda: OMG did you fart?
Matt: OMG you’re so classy. I’m getting out of the van for air that isn’t polluted.
Sean: What? I ate too much and now I have to poo.
Me: Thanks for the 411.
Maddy: You have to poop? Yuck.
Ryan: **Laughs**
Maddy: Where are the sexy guys? (Ummm hello??? You’re 5. There ain’t no sexy guys for you Miss.)
Hubby comes back to the van……….
Did I miss anything?
Nope.

December 10, 2005

Hubby and I went to Walmart tonight…..hold onto to your hats people, it wasn’t that exciting. Anyhooo, Matthew calls us to tell us that Ryan told Maddy to go to hell. Not exactly sure why but apparently he wanted her gone, at least at that moment and I guess hell sounded like a good option? So I decided to call back and speak to Ryan myself and find out why he said that and to lecture him on the do’s and dont’s of telling people to go to hell. Maddy answers the phone and I ask her to pass the phone to Ryan. I hear a shuffling of the phone and say hello, and Ryan says to me………”Ya ya ya, Merry Christmas and have a nice day.” Then he hangs up. Which turned out to be a good thing because I immediately burst out laughing. He said it like he was a seasoned, “dry” humored comedian. That kid cracks me up!

I have to give a shout out to my honey……he bought me Nickelback tickets today! And he’s taking me….and it’s not like he’s a huge fan. He likes them well enough but most likely would not bother seeing them if his wife wasn’t a crazy, obsessed fan. Not obsessed in a scary, creepy, we need to take you to jail way, but more like a teenager with a mad crush on a movie star way. It’s all perfectly innocent. Totally. I’m so excited about going…it will be my THIRD time seeing them! And yes, hubby bought me the last 2 sets of tickets and also took me both times. And the second time we went, he was right there in the mosh pit with all the other screaming Nickelback fans. What a guy! If that doesn’t prove he loves me, well I don’t know what does. Thank you Ant, my own personal, sexy guitar man!!!!!!!