Because we got it at the Checkers in Sanford Florida son...
They were recently cited for storing the buns in the men's room. They were stacked floor to ceiling and less than 12 inches from the commode...but I am sure it was ok because we all know how clean the men's room is...not.
They were also keeping cups in there...that gives all new meaning to my boy's favorite drink...the Suicide.
There was "soil build-up" in the ice bin...and they were cited for storing onions on the floor of the walk-in cooler.
They had a total of 9 critical violations and are still open for business....
EWWWWWWWWWW....
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Stealing is fun.
Magnuts had a great game last night. He is the first batter...for reasons he doesn't care for. The soon to be 9 year old is 47 inches and 52lbs of high octane boy with a strike zone of about 4 inches. He is almost always walked. Make no mistake, if anything comes near his strike zone he is going to swing...but lately nothing really has.
What used to be his favorite part of the game, batting, is now the most boring to him. Never one to accept "boring" he has developed a new favorite...stealing...and he is good, very good at it. He may be small but he is quite fast.
Last night at his first at bat he was walked. Because no one was on base the catcher took his time getting the wild pitch back to the pitcher...so Magnuts simply rounded first base and stole 2nd...on a walk. Let me say that again-He was walked and STOLE 2nd.
The other team was stunned...and questioned the legality...totally legal.
He was a stealing machine. He batted twice, walked twice and scored twice.
So stealing is his lemonade from the no strike zone lemons....
What used to be his favorite part of the game, batting, is now the most boring to him. Never one to accept "boring" he has developed a new favorite...stealing...and he is good, very good at it. He may be small but he is quite fast.
Last night at his first at bat he was walked. Because no one was on base the catcher took his time getting the wild pitch back to the pitcher...so Magnuts simply rounded first base and stole 2nd...on a walk. Let me say that again-He was walked and STOLE 2nd.
The other team was stunned...and questioned the legality...totally legal.
He was a stealing machine. He batted twice, walked twice and scored twice.
So stealing is his lemonade from the no strike zone lemons....
Monday, April 28, 2008
Anger Management
I think I may have a problem.
I have managed to tick off 3 different families...not including the lady this morning.
Last year at this time Miss-D was preparing for the Student UN. She had a substitute teacher who was "prepping" them during English class. Miss-D's group was to be lead by this substitute and the country they would be representing was in Africa. The teacher spent most of English class talking about rape and genocide...I took exception. It was not until she sent Miss-D home with 3 college papers that I lost my mind. They described in graphic detail the use of rape as a weapon. A weapon designed to spread HIV. The first paragraph of one of the papers was a detailed account of a large family being slaughtered and/or raped in their church. It talked about a father watching his son's head being removed, watching his daughters and wife being raped, and then his own brutal death.
If this were a movie it would have been rated R for subject matter alone. Most of the graphic details would never have been filmed because they were just too horrific. So I was a tad pissed that someone would give things like that to my 6th grade daughter. The Principal agreed and the substitute has never forgiven me.
Did I mention that she has a son in MonkeyBoy's class...one of his best friends...
At the beginning of this year some of you will remember MonkeyBoy's unfortunate drawing that detailed the steps for making a Mentos/Coke "bomb." The step mother of a classmate found the drawing in her son's room and dragged her step son to school the next morning screaming to the principal that she had "found Internet bomb making plans" in his room. She threw her step son and my son under the bus because she didn't know what a Mento was. She believed the Internet to be evil...or as she said "from the devil."
So...needless to say MonkeyBoy has not been invited over to her house to spend the night...not that I would let him go.
And finally this very Friday I lost my cool again. After school MonkeyBoy told me that a classmate had offered him dip during PE. I told him to stay as far away from the kid as possible. That night he had a baseball game and while walking from our car to the field we ran into this kid....well the boys did. Magnuts yelled that this kid was trying to talk to MonkeyBoy...I whipped around and spotted him. Not hard to do considering that this kid is as big as my husband. I called his name, twice...loudly. I then told him that I knew what he had done at school that day and that I was not having it...that he had better stay away from my sons and that if I heard about it again there would be consequences. I then asked him if I had made myself clear.
I proceeded to the fields and asked around to try and find out who this kid's mother was. I really wanted to talk to her...I felt like I should explain what was going on...and why I had just shouted at her son on the school playground. No one had any idea who she was or where she was...not a problem because she found me.
The first words out of her mouth were, "do you have a problem with my son?" I answered honestly, "yes." I explained what had happened at school, at which point her son started throwing his arms in the air protesting that he could not have possibly had dip since he had no way to purchase it. I looked his mother in the eye and told her, "my son was offered dip from a can that your son had in his right front pocket. They were standing over their by home plate when it happened during PE and he saw him spitting the mess through the fence."
To this she said, "you should have come to me, not my son." She was right and I told her so. I said that until this conversation I did not know who she was but now that I did I would always come to her first...stuck out my hand and introduced my self. I went on to tell her that almost ten 7th grade boys had been suspended that very day for having dip in their lockers. I asked her how she would feel if her son came to her and told her that someone had offered him and illegal substance at school....
I doubt it, but I sincerely hope that she does some serious searching through that boys things.
Of course MonkeyBoy ended up eating it on this one too, the boys on his team called him a snitch. I could have prevented that by holding my temper...
So I guess it was no surprise to the other parents this morning when I laid on my horn because someone broke in front of my in the school drop-off line. I had allowed a two car-length space between me and the next car in line so that people trying to leave the school could get out. This doofus decided to jump into that space just as a lady was using it to leave the school parking lot.
Anger management issues or an unfortunate set of circumstances? discuss.
I have managed to tick off 3 different families...not including the lady this morning.
Last year at this time Miss-D was preparing for the Student UN. She had a substitute teacher who was "prepping" them during English class. Miss-D's group was to be lead by this substitute and the country they would be representing was in Africa. The teacher spent most of English class talking about rape and genocide...I took exception. It was not until she sent Miss-D home with 3 college papers that I lost my mind. They described in graphic detail the use of rape as a weapon. A weapon designed to spread HIV. The first paragraph of one of the papers was a detailed account of a large family being slaughtered and/or raped in their church. It talked about a father watching his son's head being removed, watching his daughters and wife being raped, and then his own brutal death.
If this were a movie it would have been rated R for subject matter alone. Most of the graphic details would never have been filmed because they were just too horrific. So I was a tad pissed that someone would give things like that to my 6th grade daughter. The Principal agreed and the substitute has never forgiven me.
Did I mention that she has a son in MonkeyBoy's class...one of his best friends...
At the beginning of this year some of you will remember MonkeyBoy's unfortunate drawing that detailed the steps for making a Mentos/Coke "bomb." The step mother of a classmate found the drawing in her son's room and dragged her step son to school the next morning screaming to the principal that she had "found Internet bomb making plans" in his room. She threw her step son and my son under the bus because she didn't know what a Mento was. She believed the Internet to be evil...or as she said "from the devil."
So...needless to say MonkeyBoy has not been invited over to her house to spend the night...not that I would let him go.
And finally this very Friday I lost my cool again. After school MonkeyBoy told me that a classmate had offered him dip during PE. I told him to stay as far away from the kid as possible. That night he had a baseball game and while walking from our car to the field we ran into this kid....well the boys did. Magnuts yelled that this kid was trying to talk to MonkeyBoy...I whipped around and spotted him. Not hard to do considering that this kid is as big as my husband. I called his name, twice...loudly. I then told him that I knew what he had done at school that day and that I was not having it...that he had better stay away from my sons and that if I heard about it again there would be consequences. I then asked him if I had made myself clear.
I proceeded to the fields and asked around to try and find out who this kid's mother was. I really wanted to talk to her...I felt like I should explain what was going on...and why I had just shouted at her son on the school playground. No one had any idea who she was or where she was...not a problem because she found me.
The first words out of her mouth were, "do you have a problem with my son?" I answered honestly, "yes." I explained what had happened at school, at which point her son started throwing his arms in the air protesting that he could not have possibly had dip since he had no way to purchase it. I looked his mother in the eye and told her, "my son was offered dip from a can that your son had in his right front pocket. They were standing over their by home plate when it happened during PE and he saw him spitting the mess through the fence."
To this she said, "you should have come to me, not my son." She was right and I told her so. I said that until this conversation I did not know who she was but now that I did I would always come to her first...stuck out my hand and introduced my self. I went on to tell her that almost ten 7th grade boys had been suspended that very day for having dip in their lockers. I asked her how she would feel if her son came to her and told her that someone had offered him and illegal substance at school....
I doubt it, but I sincerely hope that she does some serious searching through that boys things.
Of course MonkeyBoy ended up eating it on this one too, the boys on his team called him a snitch. I could have prevented that by holding my temper...
So I guess it was no surprise to the other parents this morning when I laid on my horn because someone broke in front of my in the school drop-off line. I had allowed a two car-length space between me and the next car in line so that people trying to leave the school could get out. This doofus decided to jump into that space just as a lady was using it to leave the school parking lot.
Anger management issues or an unfortunate set of circumstances? discuss.
Friday, April 25, 2008
She is straight...
I took Miss-D to art on Wednesday only to find out that it was picture day...of course we were not prepared for that...but the teacher insisted she stay.
When I went back to pick her up someone had "fixed" her up for the picture. They had straightened her hair and applied a ton of makeup.
Her hair looked nice. She has always wanted straight hair and I have resisted...but when I saw how happy she was, and when she told me she felt pretty...I took her to the store to buy a straightening iron. I did not freak when I read on the package that the thing gets up to 400 degrees...I did not let myself worry about a hair fire...I tried to focus on her being happy.
It is just hard for me to believe that in just a few years we went from this:
When I went back to pick her up someone had "fixed" her up for the picture. They had straightened her hair and applied a ton of makeup.
Her hair looked nice. She has always wanted straight hair and I have resisted...but when I saw how happy she was, and when she told me she felt pretty...I took her to the store to buy a straightening iron. I did not freak when I read on the package that the thing gets up to 400 degrees...I did not let myself worry about a hair fire...I tried to focus on her being happy.
It is just hard for me to believe that in just a few years we went from this:
To this:
Y'all pray for us...
Thursday, April 24, 2008
Twilight Zone...
Tuesday I went to Lowes...and I saw something...something the was so bizarre that at first my brain could not process it.
There was a lady holding what appeared to be a little girl in her left arm...appeared...until I noticed the leash around her right arm...and that the little girl was a little hairy...
It was a frickin monkey. A monkey in a dress with a baby blanket. A monkey...in Lowes...in South Alabama...
There was a lady holding what appeared to be a little girl in her left arm...appeared...until I noticed the leash around her right arm...and that the little girl was a little hairy...
It was a frickin monkey. A monkey in a dress with a baby blanket. A monkey...in Lowes...in South Alabama...
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
Giving him the finger...
Lately Magnuts has been acting a little off. He is quick to tears and easily frustrated...kind of like me when I am getting sick or have PMS. Since PMS is not an option I have been watching out for a fever or...little spots all over his body.
I have since come to believe that he is just whipped. I have been making a special effort to make sure he is in bed as early as possible. So maybe having spend the night company was not such a good idea Saturday night.
When his friend went home Sunday afternoon Magnuts got upset because we never played kick ball. He actually broke down.
I was worried that his friend might give him a hard time about it. On the ride home from school Monday I asked him about it. He told me that the boy told everyone what a good time he had had and that he wasn't worried about him telling about the crying part because he had "pinky promised" not to.
MonkeyBoy laughed in surprise..."You pinky promised! really?!?!?"
I glanced at Magnuts to see how he would handle being mocked by his big brother. I need not have worried...he reminded me again just how resilient kids can be....
With a devilish grin on his face and a shrug of his shoulders he responded, "What can I say, I'm just a pinky promise kind of guy..."
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
I see London I see France...
Last night Magnuts and MonkeyBoy both had home games. I arrived at the parking lot at 5:30 and saw something...hilarious. There was a man standing by his truck in his UNDERPANTS!
I watched him lean into his truck to grab his pants and was reaching for my horn...I was already giggling at the thought of him smacking the crap out of his head when he jumped...and noticed that his shirt had the word Umpire on it. Then I saw him in profile...it was the Ump...Mr. AssiveAggressive .
I decided to let it go and began to make my way to the field...laughing so hard I almost wet my pants. Of course I let all the other parents know what I had just seen and there were all kinds of jokes about the "count" being 0 and 0.
The stat book that I keep has to be signed by the umps, it should be done before the game but because AssiveAggressive was late I didn't have time. After the game was over I walked over to where he was sitting in the dug out.
I held out the book and asked him to please sign it. He did not reach out to take it and was giving me a look. Mr. AssiveAggressive was acting like he was not going to sign it...and so...
I spoke before I thought...and this is what I said:
"Hey Ump, since I have seen you in your underpants the least you can do is give me your autograph..."
You should have seen his face.
He signed the book.
*****
On a totally unrelated subject....this weekend Rob and I were talking and I said something that made me laugh.
We were talking about being a 2nd hand smoker...and I said, " Yeah, I am a second hand smoker...I got smoke in my nare and now my legs smell ah Gouda...."
When he didn't laugh I was all "nare, you know sounds like Nair but means nostril....Gouda, a cheese that is often smoked..."
He didn't laugh and now believes that I am insane.
I watched him lean into his truck to grab his pants and was reaching for my horn...I was already giggling at the thought of him smacking the crap out of his head when he jumped...and noticed that his shirt had the word Umpire on it. Then I saw him in profile...it was the Ump...Mr. AssiveAggressive .
I decided to let it go and began to make my way to the field...laughing so hard I almost wet my pants. Of course I let all the other parents know what I had just seen and there were all kinds of jokes about the "count" being 0 and 0.
The stat book that I keep has to be signed by the umps, it should be done before the game but because AssiveAggressive was late I didn't have time. After the game was over I walked over to where he was sitting in the dug out.
I held out the book and asked him to please sign it. He did not reach out to take it and was giving me a look. Mr. AssiveAggressive was acting like he was not going to sign it...and so...
I spoke before I thought...and this is what I said:
"Hey Ump, since I have seen you in your underpants the least you can do is give me your autograph..."
You should have seen his face.
He signed the book.
*****
On a totally unrelated subject....this weekend Rob and I were talking and I said something that made me laugh.
We were talking about being a 2nd hand smoker...and I said, " Yeah, I am a second hand smoker...I got smoke in my nare and now my legs smell ah Gouda...."
When he didn't laugh I was all "nare, you know sounds like Nair but means nostril....Gouda, a cheese that is often smoked..."
He didn't laugh and now believes that I am insane.
Monday, April 21, 2008
The CDC and you...
A conversation with my cousin this weekend:
A-So I hear Miss-D has the pox?
Me-Yeah and 30 minutes after we got home from the Pharmacy the CDC called me asking all kinds of questions...
A-WHAT? WHY?
Me-They wanted to know how many spots she had, how many people lived in the house, their ages, if any of us had had it before, did any of us have spots now....
A-Damn, those people at the pharmacy are nosey why do they need to know all that?!?
Me- CDC not CVS genius...the center for disease control...
The CDC did call and had a hundred questions. As I was on the phone with them we were interrupted by a fax they were receiving from Miss-D's school...her blue slip.
At Magnuts' baseball game Friday night I found out that the school sent home a letter that day. A letter explaining that there had been enough cases for the CDC to call it an Outbreak.
They will be calling me back today to ask questions that will determine if I can send her back to school tomorrow.
You would think that I was housing Ebola infected Rhesus monkeys instead of a kid with Chicken Pox.
A-So I hear Miss-D has the pox?
Me-Yeah and 30 minutes after we got home from the Pharmacy the CDC called me asking all kinds of questions...
A-WHAT? WHY?
Me-They wanted to know how many spots she had, how many people lived in the house, their ages, if any of us had had it before, did any of us have spots now....
A-Damn, those people at the pharmacy are nosey why do they need to know all that?!?
Me- CDC not CVS genius...the center for disease control...
The CDC did call and had a hundred questions. As I was on the phone with them we were interrupted by a fax they were receiving from Miss-D's school...her blue slip.
At Magnuts' baseball game Friday night I found out that the school sent home a letter that day. A letter explaining that there had been enough cases for the CDC to call it an Outbreak.
They will be calling me back today to ask questions that will determine if I can send her back to school tomorrow.
You would think that I was housing Ebola infected Rhesus monkeys instead of a kid with Chicken Pox.
Friday, April 18, 2008
Itchy Witchy
There are some things in life that should NEVER be combined. Things like bleach and ammonia or a 13 year old girl with PMS and Chicken Pox.
Sweet merciful God...the first combo will only result in a little mustard gas...the second is actually scary.
I got the call from school at 11am...the Doc-in-a-Box confirmed Pox and we were in front of the drug store by 11:45. The doc recommended an oatmeal bath.
My first clue should have been when Miss-D asked me to get the "Cinnamon" kind....
She expected me to to come lumbering out of the store with a 100lb bag of Quaker Instant Oats on my back...
A warm bath and her favorite breakfast...you can see why she was a little pissy.
We spent the evening saying things like this:
"Boys just leave her alone"
"Boys just stay away from her"
"Yes I know she is being a wench, just move along"
She was laid out on the sofa with pillows and a blanket. She had a little table next to her with juice, a snack and the remote....
All one had to do to earn her wrath was come NEAR her...breach her perimeter and she went off like a howler monkey.
Finally I heard myself telling her, "You have Chicken Pox. You do not have the plague or cancer...suck it up and shut it. You WILL stop shrieking and hissing or I will send your little pock covered behind to your room for the duration!"
*****
To be continued...Monday's Topic- The CDC And You.....
Sweet merciful God...the first combo will only result in a little mustard gas...the second is actually scary.
I got the call from school at 11am...the Doc-in-a-Box confirmed Pox and we were in front of the drug store by 11:45. The doc recommended an oatmeal bath.
My first clue should have been when Miss-D asked me to get the "Cinnamon" kind....
She expected me to to come lumbering out of the store with a 100lb bag of Quaker Instant Oats on my back...
A warm bath and her favorite breakfast...you can see why she was a little pissy.
We spent the evening saying things like this:
"Boys just leave her alone"
"Boys just stay away from her"
"Yes I know she is being a wench, just move along"
She was laid out on the sofa with pillows and a blanket. She had a little table next to her with juice, a snack and the remote....
All one had to do to earn her wrath was come NEAR her...breach her perimeter and she went off like a howler monkey.
Finally I heard myself telling her, "You have Chicken Pox. You do not have the plague or cancer...suck it up and shut it. You WILL stop shrieking and hissing or I will send your little pock covered behind to your room for the duration!"
*****
To be continued...Monday's Topic- The CDC And You.....
Thursday, April 17, 2008
Build a little bird house in your soul...
As I bent to pick up the gas can to fill the mower something flew over my shoulder close enough to ruffle my hair.
I looked to my right and saw this:
Our pool all packed up from the summer...and a little brown bird has made a nest and filled it with 5 or 6 eggs.
Any idea what kind of bird lays white eggs with pink/red speckles?
I looked to my right and saw this:
Our pool all packed up from the summer...and a little brown bird has made a nest and filled it with 5 or 6 eggs.
Any idea what kind of bird lays white eggs with pink/red speckles?
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
I am a pud.
So last night I went to Magnuts' game. I have to attend all of his because I keep the books. Because I keep the books I sit as close to home plate as possible so that I can hear the ump.
Last night I secured my seat and began getting the line-ups written down as other parents filed in. The first batter was up...the first pitch was thrown...it was close and the ump made no audible or physical call. The second, then the third and even a 4th pitch...still no audible or physical sign of the count. The score board showed a 1 and 1 count, impossible with 4 pitches thrown. I asked one of the parents next to me if they had heard a count...they had not. No one knew the count, so very politely I said, "hey, ump...what is the count."
No response.
All of the parents looked at me.
So I said again..."Sir, can you give me the count..."
Nothing.
By this time everyone around me has decided that he can not hear me.
So...
"HEY BLUE, CAN I GET THE COUNT...PLEASE."
In the nicest loud voice humanly possible...really.
Nada
By this time the first batter was on first, walked we guessed because he didn't hit the ball and it didn't hit him.
By now other people are asking him for the count. Then the coaches wife asked him to please state the count for our bookkeeping...and she said it in a normal tone.
He stopped the game, stalked over to me and told me off... and not in the nicest way possible. He told me that I was not allowed to ask for the count that he would give the count when he felt like it...and so on.
I was so taken aback I just stared at him.
At this point, as he was walking back to the plate, the Mom behind me yelled "HEY BLUE! WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE TALKING TO YOUR ELDER LIKE THAT!"
W.T.H.
He turned on his heel and came back to give me a little more lip. I was still stunned...but I did manage to squeak "I didn't say it."
Because if I had said it I can promise you I would not have used the word ELDER...
The rest of the evening didn't go any better. The ump, being the passive aggressive ass that he is, continued to be mute on the count. It was so bad that 6 different batters continued to stand at the plate at the ready position when they should have been on first base. They had been walked and had no idea.
The good news is that I did not become ThatParent and end up ejected from the park...the bad news is AssiveAgressiveUmp will be calling our game Friday.
Last night I secured my seat and began getting the line-ups written down as other parents filed in. The first batter was up...the first pitch was thrown...it was close and the ump made no audible or physical call. The second, then the third and even a 4th pitch...still no audible or physical sign of the count. The score board showed a 1 and 1 count, impossible with 4 pitches thrown. I asked one of the parents next to me if they had heard a count...they had not. No one knew the count, so very politely I said, "hey, ump...what is the count."
No response.
All of the parents looked at me.
So I said again..."Sir, can you give me the count..."
Nothing.
By this time everyone around me has decided that he can not hear me.
So...
"HEY BLUE, CAN I GET THE COUNT...PLEASE."
In the nicest loud voice humanly possible...really.
Nada
By this time the first batter was on first, walked we guessed because he didn't hit the ball and it didn't hit him.
By now other people are asking him for the count. Then the coaches wife asked him to please state the count for our bookkeeping...and she said it in a normal tone.
He stopped the game, stalked over to me and told me off... and not in the nicest way possible. He told me that I was not allowed to ask for the count that he would give the count when he felt like it...and so on.
I was so taken aback I just stared at him.
At this point, as he was walking back to the plate, the Mom behind me yelled "HEY BLUE! WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE TALKING TO YOUR ELDER LIKE THAT!"
W.T.H.
He turned on his heel and came back to give me a little more lip. I was still stunned...but I did manage to squeak "I didn't say it."
Because if I had said it I can promise you I would not have used the word ELDER...
The rest of the evening didn't go any better. The ump, being the passive aggressive ass that he is, continued to be mute on the count. It was so bad that 6 different batters continued to stand at the plate at the ready position when they should have been on first base. They had been walked and had no idea.
The good news is that I did not become ThatParent and end up ejected from the park...the bad news is AssiveAgressiveUmp will be calling our game Friday.
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
What is in a name...
Rob works for a South Korean company. Language can be an issue. What kills me, and I mean has me rolling on the floor laughing, is the name changing. The Koreans often "Americanize" their names to make it easier on their American employees.
(all last names are fictional)
How about the guy who loves Indiana Jones movies-Harrison Ch'oe Kyu-pyeong
Or the Star Wars fan - Han Solo Yi Yong-su
Or the boss who didn't alter his first name for years and then suddenly sent out a company wide memo announcing that from that day forward he was to be referred to as Phil...turns out he was a golf fan.
You gotta think these guys have a great sense of humor.
Just a side note, there is a Chinese foreign exchange student at the FlyingMonkey's school . Her name is....Deja Woo
(all last names are fictional)
How about the guy who loves Indiana Jones movies-Harrison Ch'oe Kyu-pyeong
Or the Star Wars fan - Han Solo Yi Yong-su
Or the boss who didn't alter his first name for years and then suddenly sent out a company wide memo announcing that from that day forward he was to be referred to as Phil...turns out he was a golf fan.
You gotta think these guys have a great sense of humor.
Just a side note, there is a Chinese foreign exchange student at the FlyingMonkey's school . Her name is....Deja Woo
Monday, April 14, 2008
The Bavarian Consipiracy
Rob loves cake. He particularly likes the new whipped icings available on the bakery cakes at Wal-Mart. Every now and then he will just pick one up for "the kids" to enjoy over the weekend. This weekend he brought home something new...a bakery cake with Bavarian Cream filling. Oh crap.
I am not a cake person...well not just plain old sheet cake. I like my dessert to have a little texture, maybe some crunch...but....
The days of me sitting smugly by while the rest of my family scarfs down a sheet cake seem to be over....Bavarian cream y'all...lots of it, under whipped chocolate icing...not fair.
I am not a cake person...well not just plain old sheet cake. I like my dessert to have a little texture, maybe some crunch...but....
The days of me sitting smugly by while the rest of my family scarfs down a sheet cake seem to be over....Bavarian cream y'all...lots of it, under whipped chocolate icing...not fair.
Friday, April 11, 2008
Fun with poles and nuts...
Rob is my best friend...we make each other laugh. In the past when he was mowing the grass I would wait in front of the bathroom window, when he passed by I would flash him. I have had to stop that little funny now that the kids are helping him.
Yesterday while he was outside his counterpart from work, R called. He needed me to give Rob a message. They were having trouble with some of the transponders they were building and R had figured out the problem. The bolts were too tight, the openings too large, and they were causing the poles to lean...
So I wrote the message, folded it and had MonkeyBoy deliver it to Rob...it went a little something like this:
"R's pole is crooked because the hole was too big. To fix it you need to move his nuts to the left. Love, Me"
You should have seen his face...
Yesterday while he was outside his counterpart from work, R called. He needed me to give Rob a message. They were having trouble with some of the transponders they were building and R had figured out the problem. The bolts were too tight, the openings too large, and they were causing the poles to lean...
So I wrote the message, folded it and had MonkeyBoy deliver it to Rob...it went a little something like this:
"R's pole is crooked because the hole was too big. To fix it you need to move his nuts to the left. Love, Me"
You should have seen his face...
Thursday, April 10, 2008
Dear Big Girl,
Yes you, the one discussing methods of...ummmm...feminine grooming, in public, with your skinny friend yesterday.
Your friend is a crack head. She does not love you. She is right about waxing, it will hurt like a mutha'. What she doesn't get, because her thighs have never had the pleasure of meeting, is that for a big girl what she is recommending would require a degree in mechanical science, a few dozen Xanax and a small miracle.
I understand that you don't want to use a razor, the resulting bumps can be painful and unsightly. So I get that once you ruled out wax and razors the next logical choice would be Nair. Sure it doesn't leave bumps or rip your top layer of skin off...but it comes with it's own set of issues.
As a fluffy girl myself, with the 3BabyBelly I considered how you might possibly achieve the decorative design that CrackHead decided would be perfect for your vajayjay. It can be done, but you are going to need to pick up a few things.
First, in order to fully expose the "area" you are going to need one of these:
Lets be honest, if you try this "grooming" in a standing position the only person who would recognize the design would be a mental patient taking a Rorschach test.
If you would like to breath during the 7-10 minutes you will need to leave the Nair on you will also need one of these:
When I lay flat on my back my 3BabyBoobies can hold my chin up. When you flip over everything is going south...you are gonna need an airway....unless you can breath through your ears.
I think it is safe to say that you will not be able to apply the depilatory from this position...neither of us has done a sit-up in recent memory. So...you are going to need a friend....a good friend...a good friend without a camera phone.
I think it is safe to say that you will not be able to apply the depilatory from this position...neither of us has done a sit-up in recent memory. So...you are going to need a friend....a good friend...a good friend without a camera phone.
If this all seems like too much, let me recommend a better option...buy a bathing suit with a frickin skirt and get over it.
Your friend,
Laura
Wednesday, April 9, 2008
Wednesday
This morning there was an article in our local paper about a lady suing the college, city and a local frat over noise issues. 3/5 of people that chose to comment on the article blasted her claiming that she is trying to get something for nothing or that she should have known that it would be loud living that close to the campus. Here is a partial quote from one of the other 2:
" This lady is totally in the right. If you are a college kid or bass thumpin' punk and you disturb a grown person's rights with your drunken antics or loud music, then you should be kicked in the head once for each minute that you caused this person grief. "
I need to meet this person. At 36 I can already see myself as the "GET OFF MY LAWN" old lady...except it would be "GET OFF MY LAWN OR GET TO MOWING."
Have a nice day.
" This lady is totally in the right. If you are a college kid or bass thumpin' punk and you disturb a grown person's rights with your drunken antics or loud music, then you should be kicked in the head once for each minute that you caused this person grief. "
I need to meet this person. At 36 I can already see myself as the "GET OFF MY LAWN" old lady...except it would be "GET OFF MY LAWN OR GET TO MOWING."
Have a nice day.
Tuesday, April 8, 2008
It's That Time...
Magnuts had his first game last night. While getting dressed he decided that his new sliders were "itchy" and asked me for baby powder. Of course we were out, but I did find a box of Old Spice Body Talc, circa 1950. Magnuts, after being assured by MonkeyBoy that it was a manly smell, proceeded to dump half of it right down his pants.
When he got up to bat he was walked on 4 straight balls...he has a strike zone of about 4 centimeters. In a daring move the coach encouraged him to steal second...he ran and then slid safely resulting in a spectacular cloud of red dust and Old Spice.
I am keeping the books for Magnuts' team this year. The coach wants me to keep the stats for every single pitch thrown to get a better idea of how we are doing offensively and defensively. Last night I sat right behind the batters box to make sure I could keep up with the count. I think our Ump was training in Mime...I couldn't hear a word that he said... I had to keep watching his hands.
BTW...I am surprised at the people who will heckle the Ump. It always ends up being the quiet preppy Moms that are so composed and polite at practice...and they can be brutal. It is disconcerting to watch a woman dig through a monogrammed diaper bag for a coordinating monogrammed burp cloth while screaming..."HEY BLUE HE IS GONNA NEED A 5 IRON IF THAT IS THE STRIKE ZONE"
You just know you are going to see one of these women on the news:
Disgruntled female fan knocks umpire unconscious when she hurled a full Nuk baby bottle from the third row bleachers....Stunned witness comments, "she was always such a quiet woman"...
When he got up to bat he was walked on 4 straight balls...he has a strike zone of about 4 centimeters. In a daring move the coach encouraged him to steal second...he ran and then slid safely resulting in a spectacular cloud of red dust and Old Spice.
I am keeping the books for Magnuts' team this year. The coach wants me to keep the stats for every single pitch thrown to get a better idea of how we are doing offensively and defensively. Last night I sat right behind the batters box to make sure I could keep up with the count. I think our Ump was training in Mime...I couldn't hear a word that he said... I had to keep watching his hands.
BTW...I am surprised at the people who will heckle the Ump. It always ends up being the quiet preppy Moms that are so composed and polite at practice...and they can be brutal. It is disconcerting to watch a woman dig through a monogrammed diaper bag for a coordinating monogrammed burp cloth while screaming..."HEY BLUE HE IS GONNA NEED A 5 IRON IF THAT IS THE STRIKE ZONE"
You just know you are going to see one of these women on the news:
Disgruntled female fan knocks umpire unconscious when she hurled a full Nuk baby bottle from the third row bleachers....Stunned witness comments, "she was always such a quiet woman"...
Monday, April 7, 2008
My Monday Gift To You...
Knowledge is power and today I offer you a gift of words....a new phrase for your repertoire.... you are welcome.
"HOLD THE LEGS"
Definition: Back off I can do this without your frickin help
When to use:
Lets say that your husband is working on wiring some new gadget to all of the other gadgets in your entertainment center. You are holding the flashlight so that he can make sense of the 3 million different wires. When you decide to start offering unsolicited suggestions, questioning his methods and finally ask him if he actually read the manual...in this house he is going to tell you to "Hold The Legs."
Much like I would tell him to if he was hanging over my shoulder in the kitchen or while I was working on a web page.
Origination:
Many years ago while we were both stationed at Ft. Knox, Rob worked with a young man that for our purposes we will call Rooster. He wasn't really a redneck but he was definitely country...bordering on hillbilly. One day he was working on something when another soldier decided to "over help" him. Poor Rooster stood it as long as he could and finally threw up his hands in frustration and said:
"Hey! I am the one screwing this chicken you just hold the legs...."
"HOLD THE LEGS"
Definition: Back off I can do this without your frickin help
When to use:
Lets say that your husband is working on wiring some new gadget to all of the other gadgets in your entertainment center. You are holding the flashlight so that he can make sense of the 3 million different wires. When you decide to start offering unsolicited suggestions, questioning his methods and finally ask him if he actually read the manual...in this house he is going to tell you to "Hold The Legs."
Much like I would tell him to if he was hanging over my shoulder in the kitchen or while I was working on a web page.
Origination:
Many years ago while we were both stationed at Ft. Knox, Rob worked with a young man that for our purposes we will call Rooster. He wasn't really a redneck but he was definitely country...bordering on hillbilly. One day he was working on something when another soldier decided to "over help" him. Poor Rooster stood it as long as he could and finally threw up his hands in frustration and said:
"Hey! I am the one screwing this chicken you just hold the legs...."
Friday, April 4, 2008
Blinded by the light, wrapped up like a DEUCE....
The ceiling fan in my office is also the light fixture. I am too short to reach the chains without using a stool. I like it left so that the fan is on but the light is not, and TooTall (aka Rob), who can reach it flat footed seems to forget to pull the chain to turn off the light when he is done...he just flips the switch on the wall turning it all off. It.Drives.Me.Nuts.
This morning I woke up with my jaw throbbing, stumbled into my office in the dark and flipped the switch to turn on the fan. Once again TooTall forgot to pull the chain and I was blinded. Apparently the new light bulb has approximately the same wattage as the sun.
I think I need a nap.
See ya Monday.
This morning I woke up with my jaw throbbing, stumbled into my office in the dark and flipped the switch to turn on the fan. Once again TooTall forgot to pull the chain and I was blinded. Apparently the new light bulb has approximately the same wattage as the sun.
I think I need a nap.
See ya Monday.
Thursday, April 3, 2008
Harmony & A High Colonic
For the last month Rob has been working 6pm-3am. He did this so that his company could train the new night guy. Monday he went back to his regular schedule...yet things around here were still wonky.
Tempers of the entire clan seemed to be short...some of us were forgetful. Some of us were just downright stupid...for example-If you decide to amp up your box fans and then choose not to put the guards back on do not forget yourself and reach in to pick up a string...those flimsy plastic blades can actually put a big hurt on your hand.
I try very hard to get the FlyingMonkeys fed and delivered to school every morning without conflict. It just seems like chewing someones arse and then dropping them off at school sets a bad tone for their entire day...so some days I just have to let stuff go. Yesterday morning I failed. We had plenty of time to get ready, no need to rush, and yet it turned into a giant cluster...I chewed butts all the way to school...then felt like a giant turd the whole way home.
I considered how tense our house had been lately, our family "harmony" was definitely off. Rushing around trying to be at all the practices, supplemental practices, papers/projects due, and a poor nights sleep...something had to be done.
I mentally cancelled all afternoon activities. Came up with a plan of action that would hopefully result in a nice quiet night that would allow us all to recharge and then shared that plan with the FlyingMonkeys when I picked them up...along with an apology for acting like a rabid howler monkey that morning.
At dinner that evening I had to explain to Rob that I indeed had referred to our lack of family harmony...he couldn't get over me using the word "harmony." I think he was worried I might break out some healing crystals and insist on a family high colonic to finish the evening. Uhhh....not gonna happen...ever. My version involved extra TV time for the FlyingMonkeys, a cocktail for me, and a cookies and cream milkshake for Rob.
Before dinner was over the kids were talking about what they had done to contribute to a night of family harmony...cleaning up their rooms, getting an early shower, not beating each other to death....Finally one of them asked me what I was going to do...I looked Rob right in the eye and said, "After you all go to bed I am going to make-out with your Daddy...so you better stay out of the kitchen if you don't want to see us all kissing and hugging."
Yes, I poked the "Harmony Bear". The kids started gagging and telling me I was gross...but they were grinning, and for the first time in a few days Rob was too.
So this morning all is quiet, the FlyingMonkeys are dressed and ready for school and the rabid howler monkey is nowhere to be found. Harmony seems to be restored.
Tempers of the entire clan seemed to be short...some of us were forgetful. Some of us were just downright stupid...for example-If you decide to amp up your box fans and then choose not to put the guards back on do not forget yourself and reach in to pick up a string...those flimsy plastic blades can actually put a big hurt on your hand.
I try very hard to get the FlyingMonkeys fed and delivered to school every morning without conflict. It just seems like chewing someones arse and then dropping them off at school sets a bad tone for their entire day...so some days I just have to let stuff go. Yesterday morning I failed. We had plenty of time to get ready, no need to rush, and yet it turned into a giant cluster...I chewed butts all the way to school...then felt like a giant turd the whole way home.
I considered how tense our house had been lately, our family "harmony" was definitely off. Rushing around trying to be at all the practices, supplemental practices, papers/projects due, and a poor nights sleep...something had to be done.
I mentally cancelled all afternoon activities. Came up with a plan of action that would hopefully result in a nice quiet night that would allow us all to recharge and then shared that plan with the FlyingMonkeys when I picked them up...along with an apology for acting like a rabid howler monkey that morning.
At dinner that evening I had to explain to Rob that I indeed had referred to our lack of family harmony...he couldn't get over me using the word "harmony." I think he was worried I might break out some healing crystals and insist on a family high colonic to finish the evening. Uhhh....not gonna happen...ever. My version involved extra TV time for the FlyingMonkeys, a cocktail for me, and a cookies and cream milkshake for Rob.
Before dinner was over the kids were talking about what they had done to contribute to a night of family harmony...cleaning up their rooms, getting an early shower, not beating each other to death....Finally one of them asked me what I was going to do...I looked Rob right in the eye and said, "After you all go to bed I am going to make-out with your Daddy...so you better stay out of the kitchen if you don't want to see us all kissing and hugging."
Yes, I poked the "Harmony Bear". The kids started gagging and telling me I was gross...but they were grinning, and for the first time in a few days Rob was too.
So this morning all is quiet, the FlyingMonkeys are dressed and ready for school and the rabid howler monkey is nowhere to be found. Harmony seems to be restored.
Wednesday, April 2, 2008
Lions and tigers and bears oh my!
Wait...for us it is, Hornets, panthers and a FERAL SOW WITH 50LB PIGLETS IN TOW. We are a venomous snake in the toilet away from our own World's Deadliest Places designation.
The neighbor, (guess who Mom) who called to tell me about seeing them has decided what "WE" should do about them. She wants US to kill the sow, and then for US to capture and pen up the piglets until they are big enough for US to take them to the "processor."
Picture me sitting in a tree in the middle of the woods holding a loaded gun. There are so many things wrong with that sentence...first of all "middle of the woods" seems to imply that I would be willing to walk a great distance and we know that to be a lie. I bought a car to avoid doing that. Also, climbing a tree...who are we kidding. The loaded gun thing is entirely plausible, but not in a tree in the woods. It would mean that not only did I walk a great distance *snort* then climbed a tree, but I did it all carrying something that weighs more than 5lbs.
So unless the pig decides to walk in front of the house, allowing me to take the shot from the safety of my bedroom window we will all be having Hormel with our eggs.
The neighbor, (guess who Mom) who called to tell me about seeing them has decided what "WE" should do about them. She wants US to kill the sow, and then for US to capture and pen up the piglets until they are big enough for US to take them to the "processor."
Picture me sitting in a tree in the middle of the woods holding a loaded gun. There are so many things wrong with that sentence...first of all "middle of the woods" seems to imply that I would be willing to walk a great distance and we know that to be a lie. I bought a car to avoid doing that. Also, climbing a tree...who are we kidding. The loaded gun thing is entirely plausible, but not in a tree in the woods. It would mean that not only did I walk a great distance *snort* then climbed a tree, but I did it all carrying something that weighs more than 5lbs.
So unless the pig decides to walk in front of the house, allowing me to take the shot from the safety of my bedroom window we will all be having Hormel with our eggs.
Tuesday, April 1, 2008
Ohhhh Baby!
Looky looky:
Tiny soft Mary Janes...
It is almost time! I put these in the mail yesterday morning...I think they will have some little feet in them very soon!
Tiny soft Mary Janes...
It is almost time! I put these in the mail yesterday morning...I think they will have some little feet in them very soon!
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