June 30, 2007

Do you know what today is? Ah it’s day 3 of summer break for my kids. I mean it’s also Saturday and they’d be off school anyway, but when Monday rolls around, they are not going back. They will be with me 24/7 until September. Is that even legal? I’m going to look into that.

I bought them a pool for passing their respective grades. Not a big inground pool because well, we live in a huge city with small yards but as yards go, my back yard is decently sized, although not huge like it would be if I were living in the country. Am I rambling? Get used to it. These are the yackings of a crazy person now, who will clearly show you just how nutso she is over the course of the summer. Anyway, the pool is an 8 foot round, that is just the right size for them. They love it. And that’s all that matters right? Hell no Right. I get to say to people now, when they call me, ‘oh I’m sitting by the pool’, makes me sound so shee shee pooh pooh and who doesn’t want to sound like that? And who doesn’t love getting splashed when your kids jump in the pool and your really juicy romance novel gets all wet and soggy? You’d have to be a stone cold bitch not to love that aspect of it. It makes me want to jump right in there and strangle join them. Is it September yet?

Did I tell you my arms fell off? No? Well they did. This weight training crap is for, well weight trainers but I continue to do it anyway. I’m not planning to get all muscle-y and get big bowed legs and smother my body in orange day glow tanning spread/oil/cream or anything like that, I’m just doing it……..why the hell am I doing it? I’m going to have to check with my assistant on why I’m doing it. Wait, I fired that cow. She was trying to steal my husband and then I kicked her and she died and then she came back to life……….wait, I think I might be confusing my situation with that soggy, wet, juicy romance novel that I was reading before my kids ruined it. I’m drunk relaxed. Oh the joys of summer break. And by joys, I mean torture joys for real.

My gf Ang and her girls came over yesterday and I made lunch for everyone. Noone died by eating my cooking, which, I think is a good thing. We sat out by the pool, looking all sweaty sexy, while our kids played and splashed and splashed and splashed some more. Did I mention we got splashed? We loved that. I know I did. It’s my favourite thing ever. Well besides typing this whole shit load of sentences with my tongue because my arms fell off. I’m resourceful like that. And I do have a strong tongue. I have proof. My dentist told me that awhile back….let me regale you with that story.

I had an appointment with a new dentist, so I had a thorough check up and they did some xrays and afterwards, my dentist went over the xrays with me. As he’s showing me the different pictures of the inside of my mouth (which were super hot by the way because it could have been the inside of an octopus because no regular person can make heads nor tails out of them anyway) and he points to a particular xray and says, “see that?” Sure I saw it but I had no idea what I was looking at. He told me it was my tongue, which, and I quote, “I had to fight with that thing the whole time I was in your mouth. You have a very strong tongue”. Ummm awkward. What does one say to that? Gee thanks doc, I work that baby out like there’s no tomorrow. I mean who doesn’t want a strong tongue? It’s come in handy for me since I’m typing these days with it because MY ARMS FELL OFF. See how life works out?

I have to go get dressed now. I’m going shopping for sleeveless shirts because my arms fell off and why would I need shirts with sleeves? Just a waste of material. Plus I need a drink, since my tongue has had a great workout typing all of this and I want to keep that pink monster in ‘tip’ top shape. ‘Tip’. Get it? I’m not in my right mind punny.

June 23, 2007

I think it is. I’m pretty sure yesterday was Friday so that would mean it’s Saturday unless we’re in New Zealand, which now, I think it would be Sunday? Do we really care? No.

I thought I’d do something to put everyone to sleep fun by talking about my recent search strings. I always wonder what people are thinking when they search for certain things/phrases on the big ole’ web world. And by wonder, I mean, I could give a rat’s ass but I’m bored. Moving on………

‘What flavor is Shrek’

Well to answer you, I don’t know what flavour Shrek is. He’s big, green, kinda fugly and looks like he’d be smelly. I’m guessing he’s somewhere between green tea, mixed with rotten socks, with some 23 day old bananas but let’s get real here shall we? He’s a fucking cartoon. You can’t eat him mmmkay?

‘I chipped off the corner of my sidewalk with my lawnmower’

Big enough search string? Geez, write a book already. To give you some advice for that style of lawnmowing, here’s a tip: Don’t get drunk, then mow your lawn, moron. And what kind of lawnmower are you using that it actually chipped your sidewalk? Is your sidewalk made out of cheese? If so, I’d suggest selling your home immediately and sending me half of your profits for giving you the balls to get off your ass and sell your house that’s in front of a cheese sidewalk. Gross.

‘I really got to pee n poop’

Ummmm here’s a suggestion: FIND.A.FUCKING.TOILET.

‘Oh my gawd your daughter came into my yard and kicked my dog’

Well your dog came into her yard first and shit on her Barbies, so what did you expect? You go girl.

‘My daughter wears sweatpants’

Sick. She’s obviously sick in the head. Sweatpants? I’d rather drive rusty nails into my eye sockets than be caught dead (or alive) in sweatpants. Punch her now. She needs some sense knocked into her. Do it now if you truly love her. Break her of her nasty habit NOW.

‘Tell Mommy, did you break this lamp?’

Yes I did mommy because it sucks. You have rotten taste in lamps beeyotch, so I broke that mo-fo.

‘Shrek McFlurry’

Trust me, you don’t want one of these. I talked about it here and I think after reading that, you will know WHY you don’t want one of those. Also see the first search string above….Shrek smells. ‘Nuff said.

‘Oh my my my my’

Stutter much? If you stutter, don’t write to me and say I offended you. I’m busy making fun of you cleaning.

‘Diapered kids’

Yes, these are called BABIES.

‘Why are my shoes all dirty with the stains’

Because you stained them with the dirt, duh. Assclown.

There you have it, your complete Saturday (or Sunday if you’re in NZ) entertainment. I’m always so glad when I can help you with your weekend plans. I am so fucking lame rock.

June 18, 2007

Oh I have some news: I’ve been tagged again! Do you know what this means? No? Lemme tell ya. It means that elephants will stampede through your house. I’m so not even kidding.

Okay, beautiful Bella has tagged me and why? Because she thinks I’m a lonely bag lady super fabulous, that’s why. Apparently I’m supposed to tell you 8 random facts/habits about myself, which I know you are dying to know. And why wouldn’t you be dying to know? You have nothing better to do, that’s why. Here are the rules:

Each player starts with eight random facts and/or habits about themselves.
People who are tagged need to write their own blog about their eight things and post these rules.
At the end of your blog, you need to choose eight people to get tagged and list their names.
Don’t forget to leave them a comment telling them they’re tagged, and to read your blog.

Let’s get started shall we? Ya.

I like Strawberries & Cream drinks from Starbucks (and Melie, my sweet friend is shipping me a whole crate of them. I think. Or maybe she said she was going to punch me in the face. I dunno.). And by like them, I mean I will kill for them. For real. I’ll cut you if you if you try to butt in line ahead of me, thus making it take longer for me to get my drink on. Stand back.

I am terrified of spiders. I don’t care if they’re small, cartoon-y looking, pink with sparkles, have bags of money to give me, look at me lovingly or are big, hairy and smelly. I hate all spiders equally. I’m fair like that.

I clean my house alot. I clean my bathroom just about every.single.day. Why? I’m not sure. I just really like my house to be tidy and neat and smell nice, which reminds me, I have to clean my house………………………

Miss me? Okay, continuing on:

I sleep with a fan on. I like the ‘white’ noise of the fan to sleep and I also like it facing toward me. I like to be blown. on.

I have the worst luck with cashiers & customer service people who I have to contact about any given problem about any given product I might have issues with. Never fails. I get the dumb ones, the rude ones, the morons, the ones who want to hit me hit on me, the people who have no time for my whiny bullshit sweetness and who generally just do not have any desire to help me. I really don’t understand those people having the self control not to kick me in the neck not wanting to do their best for me. Hello? I’m so worth it.

I love the song Stayin’ Alive by the Bee Gees. Make fun of me and I’ll get all ninja-y on you. Try me.

I despise sneakers. I can’t even begin to tell you how much I hate them. I do have a pair to work out in but I actually shudder when I have to put them on. I actually kinda throw up in my mouth when I think of sneakers. Let’s stop talking about them now.

My new wake up time is 5:30am. I wake up every morning now at 5:30am. Why? Anyone who can answer that question for me, will be nicely rewarded. How? Oh you just might as well hold your damn breath wait and see.

I’m a rebel. What do I mean by that? Well this is fact NUMBER 9, so that means I didn’t do the EIGHT facts as I was instructed to do, and that my friends, makes me a rebel. Ha. I laugh in the face of rules.

I’m also going to break another rule. I am supposed to tag 8 people but since I know two thousands of people, it wouldn’t be fair to only list 8 of them. So since I’ve stated that I’m a rebel, I’m going to say, if you come here and read this, consider yourself tagged (you can thank me later with cash) and then I will seek and find you and come and see what you wrote about me, it’s all about me yourself.

Well it’s that time again, it’s been 5 minutes: time to clean my bathroom. Gotta go get my Mr Clean on.

June 13, 2007

Here’s a piece of mind blowing information for you: I don’t use soap on my body. I’m not saying I don’t bathe or shower, but I’m saying I don’t like the feeling of my skin being dried out, so I don’t use soap. Instead, I use Baby Dove. I mean it’s in the shape of a bar of soap but they claim it’s not soap and I do believe them because my skin isn’t all dry and flakey and I will cut them if they’re lying to me. So this is where I get a little creeped out. I was watching tv yesterday and a commerical came on for Dove chocolate. Chocolate, as in, that yummy brown stuff we all like to eat and/or smear on ourselves and have it……nevermind. See, I kinda have a problem with the people who create my bathing products, now creating things we can supposedly eat. Like is it really stomach friendly? Or is it just a chocolate bath product and if we actually ate it, we’d get the trots or some other toilet issue? I’m sorta skeptical and I’m doubting I will eat Dove chocolate. I mean it looks like chocolate but it could be a conspiracy and we all know how those go. Moving right along.

Not that you care but did you hear this? Remember Kevin Federline? He’s that wanna be supastar, who wears his pants well below his ass line, big white sneakers, crooked hat and wife beater, who used to be shacked up with Shar Jackson, implanted his seed *shudder* twice and she then became his baby mama and then he dumped her to have sex with (and marry) *shudder muchly* BritneyI like to show my saggy vagina ALOT and shave my head and beat things with my Mary Poppins umbrella and then get skanky extensions and show my vagina again ALOT Spears and then implanted Shitney with more of his seed *Insert vomitting here* and then she became his baby mama too? Remember? Ya, snoresville but you have to listen to this because it quite frankly blows my mind how trashy and messed up some people truly are. Well, now, supposedly, allegedly, Shar Jackson is pregnant AGAIN with, you guessed it, Kevin’s baby. Ummmm what? So, let me get this straight. You Shar, had to have had sex AGAIN with K’Fed inorder to be implanted with his seed AGAIN and that my dear, is just gross. Makes my life seem so boring normal. Oh the fun. Good luck with that. I feel sorry for those children. All 36 of them. Meh.

Oh, I started weight training on Monday. And by that, I mean, I don’t have weights or training, so what I am saying is, I’m still doing alot of eating bonbons cleaning. Na, I’m just shitting you, I did start weight training. My husband bought this big home gym thingy and I have been using it. My arms are feeling like rubber, so I’m actually typing this all with my eyelashes. Yes, they are that long and pretty. Eat your hearts out.

I have to mow my lawn today. If I sound whiny, it’s because I am whiny and I’m not wanting to mow my lawn but unless someone wants to come and do it for me, then it’s just me and my mower. And my extension cord. And my garden gloves. And my giant bottle of vodka sunscreen. I suppose I should actually get off my ass and do it but that would mean I’d have to get off my ass and that sounds so lame and boring. And I’m clearly too fantastic to be either lame or boring. Oh the suffering I suffer.

Oh PS. I eloped 18 years ago today. Ah not with myself, but with a hot guy named Anthony. I mean sure, if I was going to elope with myself, I would because, who wouldn’t? What? Nevermind.

June 12, 2007

…since sliced bread. That’s what this piece of bread is:

What the hell kind of bread shape is that? Oh before I go any further, this will be riveting writing people, so be forewarned. I can’t help it if I’m brilliant.

So anyway, the bread shape. What is it? Who makes bread look like that? I mean this is 2007 last time I checked and hello, can we not make bread look like bread? What kind of pan does one have in order to make the bread come out looking all haphazard like that? I want answers dammit! Does the bread have a yeast infection? Oh feel the pun, soak it in. I was going to make a sandwich but now I’m sorta afraid to. What will my tomatoes think? Oh no bitch, you are not putting us on THAT piece of bread. My tomatoes will riot. They’ll throw themselves at me up on stage. Okay, well, I’m not up on stage but you know what I mean. My mayo will throw up on itself, begging me not to spread it on that slice of bread. Listen darlink, you vill not spread me on dat piece of nasty white,all misshapen an’ shit. No way. My bacon (if I had any) would be pissed that I would be placing their fat ass on that sick looking bread. We fried ourselves in our own grease for you and this is how you repay us? By putting us on your ugly bread? You suck. See how this would go? It would be awful and I just don’t think I can do that to my toppings or myself. Oh the horror.

I think I’ll write to the bread place and complain. Like get your pans fixed and make bread that looks like bread. Guess I’ve got a busy day ahead. Where’s my pencil?

June 11, 2007

…That’s what Paris Hilton told Barbara Walters on the phone. Ah okay. So she’s saying she’s not really dumb but just pretended to be dumb? Hmmmm. She said ‘that act is no longer cute’. Wow, now I beg to differ. Who doesn’t love a dumb person? Especially when they’re over the age of 25? Not this chickie. Show me the dumb, people, show me the dumb. Cute and sexy. I want me some dumb.

Enough about Paris already. Like we have more important topics to cover such as my 11 year old, who by the way, is a Selective Mute and who also acted like he wasn’t one at Walmart the other night.

We’re loading stuff from the cart onto the counter and as my sweet boy is helping me, he picks up a box of tampons.

Tampons? Tampons? Mom what are tampons? His part is all said in a loud loud voice with lots and lots of people standing in the lineup behind us. All snickering. My speaking parts are in part whisper, part hiss through my teeth.

They’re for mommy okay?

Ya but what are tampons? Holding box up, looking at it from every angle.

Just something for mommy okay?

Ya but what are they? WHAT THE HECK ARE TAMPONS? WHAT THE HECK DO TAMPONS LOOK LIKE? SHOW ME, SHOW ME, SHOW ME!

I’ll show you but just not right now, in the checkout, in front of the nice people staring and laughing at me now. Thank you.

SHOW ME THE TAMPONS, SHOW ME THE TAMPONS.

Aren’t you a selective mute? Huh? What happened to that?

I wanna know what the heck tampons are and we should just OPEN the box mom!

Ummm look I see the real Scooby Doo over there. Go pet him.

We went on a picnic yesterday and I took a picture of two dragonflies gettin’ it on.

Sweet isn’t it? Look how their little bodies made a heart shape. Awww, say it with me. I wonder if the girl dragonfly then eats the boy dragonfly? Or maybe they just go out to dinner, you know, go eat some mosquitoes? Or maybe she punches him the nutsac and says, ‘thanks for nothin’. Things to ponder.

Oh, I have a hangnail. And I painted my toenails a new dark red colour. Oh and I love broccoli salad. And I cooked bacon on Sunday too. I know I shouldn’t make you so jealous of my life but it can’t be helped. I’m sorry. Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz…………

Ooops, sorry, dozed off there for a minute. It’s the excitement, keeps me awake at night and then I get tired in the daylight. Good times, good times.

Ah, okay, well my licquor cabinet couch is calling me because my tv wants me to watch it. I’m going to watch America’s Got Talent and pray that they really do.

*Edit* For some reason, my picture is not showing…could be wordpress, could be aliens. I dunno but if it doesn’t show by tomorrow sometime, I’ll just moon you and then we’ll be even. In the meantime, you can have naughty dreams about dragonflies.

*Edit again* Okay it’s now showing, so that means no moon show from me I guess. Aww shucks. Maybe next time.

June 5, 2007

….that some crazy lady would run into the back of my heel with her shopping cart and then she’d laugh and point and half walk, half run away? Who knew? Not me. Lotsa nutjobbies out there people.

Also, who knew that the very short lady at the grocery store would be yelling, ‘hey you’ a whole bunch of times and low and behold she was yelling at me? I didn’t know. When I finally clued in that she was motioning for me to come over to the end of the isle where the faceclothes and towels are, I walk over, while pushing my shopping cart because, hello? I’m a CUSTOMER not an employee. Ya, and I WASN’T wearing a name badge OR a uniform but sure, I can see why she’d mistake me for that ‘hey you employee’ in my denim capris and pink tee shirt and hair in a ponytail. I guess I can’t help it if I look knowledgable about everything. The price I pay.

Anyway, she gets me to go to the end of the isle where there are stacks of faceclothes on sale for $2.34 for a bundle of 12. She points to the sign, which by the way, there were many signs up not just one and they all said 12 WASHCLOTHES FOR $2.34. Plain as day. She looks at me kinda crazy-ish and says, ‘well’? Well what lady? I shrug my shoulders and then look at my watch to let her know I’ve got way more important stuff to do than stand here and watch her be all looney. She then asks me how much these things are? The washclothes? Yes she says. I said, well it says on the GIANT bright orange sign that they are 2 fucking dollars and 34 fucking cents. I didn’t say the fucking part but I was sure THINKING it. She then asks me ‘but how much are they’? Oh Lord. Let’s try this again shall we? They’re two dollars and thirty four cents for FUCKSAKE. Again, I didn’t say the fuck part but I was thiiiiinking it. She looks at me and then at the washclothes and then back to me and says, ‘you people really need to put up better signs for prices’. Then she walks away all huffy. I know, I’m such a crappy NON EMPLOYEE for not having the proper signage up so my NON CUSTOMERS can see what they have to pay for the NON products that I don’t put out because I don’t work there. Gah. Is this like the whole my doctor isn’t my doctor but is my doctoer kinda scenerio, ‘cept I’m now considered an employee of the grocery store I shop at but I don’t get a pay cheque but I do get shit on by customers? I LOVE that.

And who knew that a certain bank which will remain nameless because I might get fired from there because I don’t work there but talked trash about them and then I’d be out a job that I don’t get paid for, and that would suck………but I digress….anyway, a certain bank can’t get their act together and keep our files straight on a certain issue which I will not mention for fear of the universe turning on it’s axis kinda deal and I would feel really guilty if I somehow turned everyone’s world upside down. Oh isn’t that punny? Get it? Ya.

Did you know that I was going to take a shower today but instead I took a bath because I wasn’t going to wash my hair because it looked kinda pretty all flat and stuff since I flat ironed it and my hair is very thick, never gets greasy so I don’t really have to shampoo it every day or it would be like straw? You didn’t know? Well I just told you BUT here’s the kicker. I decided after I got all dressed after my nice bath, that I would clean my bathroom because as some of you may know, I clean my bathroom just about every day because I really like a clean bathroom, anyhoo, as I was bending down to pick up a piece of paper on the floor, which had kinda sorta fallen in behind the toilet, so I therefore, had to sorta kinda squat down and reeeeeach in behind the said toilet to retrieve the piece of paper (I swear I WILL get to the point) and the toilet seat was up and my hair is very long. REALLY REALLY long and guess what? Some of my hair was in the toilet water, which techinally was fresh water, well as fresh as toilet water can be I suppose but still, ewwww. So that means I had to wash my hair because the thought of walking around with toilet water soaked hair ends just kinda sorta creeped me out. Now I must go finish drying it and then maybe flat ironing it if I feel like it, which I kinda sorta don’t feel like. Who knew?