October 31, 2006

What would Halloween be without some yummy witches brew? Nothin’. Okay, I’m just kidding, it’s not really brew, it’s stew. And I just made a rhyme. ‘Cause I’m clever like that. And by clever, I mean I’m slightly below average intelligence. And by slightly below average intelligence, I mean I’m a retarded ass monkey.


What a fun day I had. Let me tell you all about it. Get some coffee, maybe a donut or a bran muffin and a pillow. A pillow you ask? Yes, because by the next paragraph you’ll be snoring and laying in your own drool.


I woke up at 5am because apparently my brain doesn’t want me to get used to the time change. I got up, and eventually made it to my computer and checked my email. Nothing much exciting there. I do have many offers for penis enlargement (thanks but I have a vagina and I’m not looking to enlarge it) and an invitation to join the ‘dirty housewives club’. I’m going to pass on that but will keep it in mind if I so desire to one day become a dirty housewife.


I eventually got my kids up for school, came home, did Billy Blanks You Will Die After This Workout dvd, took a shower and started my stew. I chopped vegetables and put them in a pot. Added meat and some seasoning and took a long nap stood by that stove for hours stirring that mixture and babying that stew so it would come out and be the best tasting thing ever. I can safely say it wasn’t toxic the best tasting thing ever but it didn’t kill anyone. Whew.


Fast forward to getting the kids ready for trick or treating in the freezing cold. We got 3 inches of snow a few days ago and good old bitchface Mother nature decided to put us in a deep freeze too. So the kids had to wear 34 layers of clothes under their costumes so they both ended up looking like the Michelin man despite being Tinkerbell and a police officer. We braved the cold for about an hour and then came home, to have my daughter puke all over the kitchen floor. It was a super way to end the evening. And how was your Halloween?


Now I have a migraine from hell, so I popped some pills and will now flake out on the couch since I’ve bored myself to an almost coma state. I can feel the drool about to start. Happy Halloween.

October 26, 2006

Today, while heading to the grocery store, I heard, “Hey I know you”! Oh shit, is the credit lady that calls my home from time to time, and now she’s after me and about to karate chop me in front of the Pepsi machine? As I turn around, I hear it again and, “I read your blog”!


Holy crap, I’m a freakin’ movie star! I knew it would happen, hords of fans swarming me, making me claustrophobic. Okay, so it was one girl but still. And she happens to know my son Matt. But still. And we may have met briefly a few years ago. But still. Let me live in my glory people, dammit!


I’m sure my bag lady appearance my gleaming beauty drew her attention immediately and compelled her to stare at me and then realize, that I’m the fruitloop’s blog she sometimes visits. I have to run out and get some pens. You know, to sign tons of autographs.


Gosh, there’s so much to do now that I’m famous. Like get some booze fancy clothes and a new do. And a Porche. And some new high heels. And some medication new jewelry. Gotta look the part of a famous person. If you don’t see me around alot, it’s because I’m being mobbed by adoring fans and my arms fell off because I’ve signed so many autographs.

My husband comes home yesterday a bit earlier than usual. Our conversation kinda went like this:


Hey, you’re home early.


Yup. I got you something today.


You did? *Me jumping up and down all excited*


Ya, come out to the truck and see.


Okay!


I walk out and see a big beige-ish/brown-ish metal thing. Oh, it’s a dryer. And not a new dryer. It’s a dryer from the dryer ghetto.


My dryer hasn’t been working well lately. It would normally take 4 times to dry a load of towels. It was like a crap shoot. Sometimes you’d hit the jackpot and the thing would dry your clothes and then other times, you’d go down to the laundry room, expecting to put on your favorite jeans and go out drinking doing nice things for the elderly and then you’d get all disappointed because they’d still be soaking wet. Wet jeans are not fun to put on lemme just tell ya.


I try to act excited but honestly, who gets their panties in a bunch over an older than dirt dryer? But then I decided, well, if the thing works, that should be all that matters. I mean, so it’s really ugly looking. So it looks like someone shit on it. So it looks like it hasn’t been cleaned since the ice age. If it works, then yay.


Hubby gets it all hooked up and anxiously waits for me to put some wet laundry in it. Low and behold, I happened to have some and reluctantly inserted it into the drum. I turn it on. And wait. My husband leaves for an appointment and calls me afterwards.


Well?


Well what?


Does it work?


What?


Duh, the dryer.


Oh, yes it does.


It does? Really?


Yes, I swear.


That’s great!


Yes, it is.


I know, I know, it’s kinda ugly but it works.


This is true.


And I only paid $20 bucks for it!


I know you said.


You’re excited about it right?


I suppose I am. I mean it sucks wearing wet jeans. And panties. And socks. And drying off with wet towels.


Well there you go.


Yup.


So there you have it. Love Thursday, Ghetto style. Thanks honey for thinking of me and my wet panties and bringing home the ugliest dryer on the face of the earth. But it works!


Be sure to click the pictures and read the labels, the dryer totally came like that. I swear. *Looking around*. Oh and I swear I washed the damn thing but that bitch ain’t getting any cleaner than that!

October 25, 2006

Hello?


Hi, I was wondering if my order was ready yet?


Your order?


Yes, I dropped off my glass to be cut into sections, oh, I’d say about 3 hours ago now.


Your glass?


Yes! Can you please tell me if it’s done yet?


No.


No it’s not done?


I don’t know.


Can you ask one of the glasscutters?


Glasscutters?


Yes please!


No.


Pardon? Is this Economy Glass?


I don’t think so.


This isn’t Economy Glass?


Hold on. *Pause for about 3 seconds* Nope. I checked. I see no glasscutters.


You could have said this was the wrong number.


And?


*Click*


Ah, between that wrong number, being on hold now for 8000 years with a gov’t agency, having my 10 year old hacking up leftovers for the past week, dealing with my 6 year old, who thinks that we really should be spending more time on her ‘feelings chart’ and getting to know her ‘looks’, trying to clean my spawn of the devil storage room and trying to keep up with all of my soap operas responsibilites, I just feel like I have no time to sit around and eat cake and be lazy be the perfect homemaker. Where the hell is Martha Stewart when I need her? Oh right. She’s busy carving monuments out of pumpkins and then getting a bazillion dollars for making soup out of her pumpkin vomit. Lucky bitch.


How’s your Hump day going?

October 19, 2006

I love this picture. It’s of my oldest and my youngest (I have 2 inbetween, just so you know but most of you do know, but I don’t want them to feel left out and as a mom, the guilt is sometimes overwhelming and this is turning into a story within a story, so now is the time to shut my cake hole and get back to the original story. Whew).


Anyway, today is Love Thursday and I’ve never heard of it (well I’ve heard of Thursday. Ha!) and went to my best friend, Karen’s site, where she was talking about Love Thursday and she told us to go to another site by another Karen and so thus, the chain of events (and not so much a chain of events as a braclet of events since it was a really short ride back to here) that led me here to post about Love Thursday. Holy long run on sentence. Stay away ’sentence structure’ police. I follow noone’s rules! Bah!


As I was saying, before I was so rudely interrupted. By. my. self. **Blink blink blink**. I’ll tell you why I love that picture. I love it because it’s so pure and random. My daughter wanted her brother to pick her up and so he obliged her and I got lucky and snapped it. She’s the little princess, who, is adored by her older brothers and at the same time, she can annoy each one of them with her constant chattering and her ‘occassional’ tantrum or when things are not acceptable to her (See her chart below for details) but for the most part, she’s the little doll that they all want to love and protect.


I always love the people that come up to me and say, what I consider kinda rude things, things like, ‘wow, what a gap between your kids’. Excuse me? Do I know you? And so? We have 2 older boys and yes, there’s an 8 and 9 year gap between them and Ryan. And then 12 and 13 years between the 2 older boys and Maddy. Again, so? That’s my family and I happen to be quite happy with the way things have turned out. I guess it’s just annoying that they assume things, like, we didn’t really want more kids and Ryan must have been an ‘oops’. Okay, well, he kinda was but very much accepted. It’s not that we didn’t want more kids, it’s just we couldn’t make up our minds and were sometimes on different pages of our family book. There were times that I wanted more kids but hubby didn’t and vise versa. Eventually, some other force was at work (okay, okay, we had sex) and brought Ryan to us, regardless of what page we were on. And in the end, we were thrilled that we were having another child.


We then decided to give Ryan a sibling close to his age, however, our first daughter passed away. We were, of course, devastated. But someone, maybe our angel in heaven, looked down on us and 14 months later, Maddy came along. So that’s our family in a nutshell. And to the people who look down their nose at us, thinking there must be something wrong with us because we didn’t have our kids, like stair steps, all the proverbial 18 months apart, well you can just pound sand (that sounds totally threatening doesn’t it?). We like our family, no wait, we love our family and as the picture above shows, age differences really don’t factor in when it comes to matters of the heart.

October 17, 2006

My 6 year old daughter has drawn us a ‘feelings’ chart so we’ll know her different looks. As a mom, I’m sure this will come in very handy. Because when she’s on the floor, screaming, pounding her fists, I will surely go to the “feelings” chart and try determine what ‘feeling’ she’s experiencing. Ah huh.


She’s got the usual feelings jotted down, happy, sad, ‘madd’, blue, tired etc. My personal favourite though, is feeling number 8. Her face is serious looking and her mouth is a straight line. Thus, meaning, it’s her ‘not acceptable’ look as she’s so wonderfully written so there’s no confusion on the part of her parents. So when I ask her to go clean her room, she will undoubtly pull out her feelings chart and point to # 8.

October 13, 2006

Oh ma gawd, did ya’ll see K’Fed on CSI last night? What acting talent. I can’t even believe how well he played himself, a crooked hat wearing, punk ass, most likely dope selling, underwear showing, wanna be gangsta, with a goofy smirk on his smashed up assholes kinda face. Gosh darn it. His raw talent amazed me. It was so life like. Made me wanna eat Cheetos and get pregnant again.


And as you can see from the picture below, it’s like seeing into the future, what with the white socks stuffed into flip flops. You can just tell that he was destined to be on CSI. I mean I can’t believe he wasn’t snatched up long before this and already starring in ‘leading man’ (I use the term man loosely) roles.


I was going to link to his My Space page and/or his web page but then I thought, I don’t want to be responsible for anyone getting cramps, diarreah and maybe vomiting from the possibility of hearing his ‘music’. So if you really want to risk becoming ill, search for them at your own risk people. It ain’t pretty. I keep looking at that picture and shake my head in amazement that he’s not been approached for more acting jobs before now. Look at him. Amazing. So hot. And by hot, I mean hot like steaming, fresh, dog poo.


Peace out.

October 9, 2006

….makeup can do? And a few days. Well, that’s all I have to say for now since I’m going to bed so I can dream about Brad Pitt lookalikes white, cuddly kittens. Sweet dreams.

October 5, 2006

I don’t know what it is with me and the grocery store but for some reason, the cashiers are either obnoxious or dumb or my kids act like zoo animals and really should be tied up or I make an ass out of myself. Let’s go with the latter.

I had to pick up a couple of things so I headed on over to the grocery store, with the intention of getting a handful of items, not really planning to make a complete and utter moron of myself. As I’m in the produce section, I look up from choosing just the right bag of radish and low and behold, Brad freakin’ Pitt is standing there. Okay, so it wasn’t really Brad Pitt but man oh man, it sure looked like him. I was all googly eyed and flustered, like he was paying attention to me. I grabbed whatever the hell bag of radish was closest and decided to follow Mr P. I’m sure I looked like a dweeb or desperate. I noticed others staring at this guy too. So I’m not the only retarded housewife chick checking this speciman out.


I lost Mr P somewhere between the bread and the frozen goods. Damn. I decided to just forget about him and get back to the chore at hand. I’m browsing down an aisle, seeing if there’s some new flavour of salad dressing available and I look up and there he is again. I let go of my cart and pick up a jar of pickles, ’cause that’s hot and make eye contact with him. He smiles at me. He walks past and I decided mama is gonna take a second look and that was a really bad idea. As I’m slowly walking ahead, my neck and head slightly turned to look at BP man speciman, I don’t notice the big fucking metal pole/support beam thing that is looming in my immediate future. As I’m smiling, looking at Mr P and he rounds the corner, I turn to look ahead and I make contact with said big fucking metal pole. With. my. forehead. The aisle was not empty. I’m pretty sure I see stars and not just ones that look like Brad Pitt. An older lady asks me if I’m okay. Sure, sure. I’m fine, I stutter. I quickly go back to my cart and ditch the pickle jar and walk away with my big, giant sack of humilation.


As I’m regaining abso-freakin-lutely no sense of sanity at all some sense of sanity again, I decided I wasn’t quite done with being an ass apparently and head on over to the women’s clothing section, because that’s where BP lookalikes browse. I’m scanning the racks of pants and shirts, my head swivelling from side to side to get just one more glance at this guy because I’m obviously not on enough fucking medication not on medication and want to be greedy and just get that last look. I’m pushing the cart, looking, searching, scanning, then, BAM! I turn straight ahead to see what I’ve bumped into. Please, please let it be a clothing rack. Standing on 2 legs. Wearing jeans. Looking hot. Oh.My.God. I’ve just ran into Brad Pitt’s legs. He turns around and smiles and I turn redder than the walls in the hubs of hell and am asking if the devil himself could come snatch me for the day because it would be less uncomfortable than this moment.


BP man looks at me with frightened eyes sympathy and asks if I’m okay? No. Clearly I’m insane and you must see it, along with my giant black/brown/purple/red/blue bruise on my forehead. I open my mouth to apologize and some kind of squeak came out, can’t say for certain if it was an intelligible ‘I’m so sorry’ or not but at that point, I honestly didn’t care. I just wanted to run for the pharmacy to get lots of medication hills and go drown my embarrassment in a big ass bottle of booze milk.


I think I might hire a personal shopper for getting my groceries. Oh wait, I’m not rich. Damn. Damn. Damn. If you look below, you’ll see a lovely picture of my head. My husband took my camera today but lucky for you, I have a cell phone that captures pictures. Fan-freakin-tastic. And how was your day?

October 4, 2006