Saturday, December 27, 2008

How to be a firecracker.

1. If you are not so lucky blessed to ever go see strippers, walk up to one and ask them if their crabs have herpes. It could possibly get your thrown out which in my humble opinion would be a good thing or if you can stay for the rest of the show, you will not get another lap dance.

2. Whenever you see a man wearing plaid, flannel or wranglers, yell across the room, store, bar "Cowboy Up!" For some crazy reason, some cowboys don't like this. Beats me. They do however love it when you yell "Wrangler butts make me nuts."

3. Walk into Target and yell "Walmart Rocks!" (even if Walmart so does not rock.) Target people are pretty dedicated to their store and will get disgruntled about this. Don't worry. They are working and cannot ream your ass for yelling this.

4. If you are at a bar, and a toothless man is trying to make out with you, hand them some Chiclets and ask them to put them in as replacement teeth. And for added insult, say "They will not only give you make shift teeth to replace your missing ones they will also double for a breath mint for your stank ass breath."

5. Wake up in the morning and do a beat down on your sleeping husband. If they are coherent enough afterwards or you didn't put them in a coma, tell them you are sorry for the beaten but you had a dream he cheated on you. Even if you didn't dream that, you can get some repressed anger out with an excuse. Seriously, I am not the only one who has urges to hit their husband am I?

6. If you don't like your snooty neighbors, have a kick ass party, go knock on their door when there is already a few hundred cars outside and instead of asking them to join the party, ask them if your rowdy friends can park in their driveway. It's like a knife in the heart.

7. Ask your doctor for a prostate exam. (Hint. Only if you are a woman because woman don't have prostates. I know this because I had to WebMD it. But if you are a man, and you say this, the doctor may stick his thumb up your ass.) (On a serious should be getting prostate exams because it could save your life. So. Go get a finger job. It is worth it. And I don't think they use their thumb. You can request the pinky.)

8. Super glue a quarter to your local Walmart's floor. Laugh out loud when people try to pick it up but cannot.

9. Take a bucket of water and pour it on your worst enemies sidewalk on a blistering cold day. Then get your video camera ready when they exit the house. Remember, only do this to your enemies. Revenge is sweet my friends.

10. Fart a little and deny it.

Friday, December 26, 2008

I survived.

Christmas. Done. Almost. One more family Christmas to go.

New Year's Eve. I'm getting trashed. For real. The vomit in my lap kind of trashed too.

Today I am being lazy and being a bum, bum, bum, buuummm.......(Sing to Little Drummer Boy to get the real effects of this.)

I could return a gazillion items that ironically never worked in the first place but that means I would increase my blood pressure and probably have one to many anxiety attacks dealing with the rejects out on the streets attempting to drive in a coma or deal with the geeks inside of Sears or Target running over my toes. There is no amount of happy pills to help with that chaos. No.Thank.You. Hmmpppfff.

I could attempt to learn photo shop better and turn all my RAW pictures into Jpeg's but hell...that would demand my brain to work and it is complete slush right now. Not.Happening. This is why I married a computer guru. He can attempt this task or he will be doing a hefty amount of laundry instead.

I could brace myself and enter the disaster zone that my child calls her bedroom and either dump everything into a garbage bin or just start it on fire. Seriously, the other day my brat was actually cleaning it and found a rotted old egg sandwich. She tried to feed it to the dog to erase all evidence but confessed once the poor dog puked it up from the bottom of it's gut. She couldn't lie anymore. After having a few hundred breaths to control my anger I realized that she is not in control of her room any longer and I will return to cleaning it. She has been grounded from a few hundred things now. Gah.

I could try to tackle the mound of laundry that is going to walk itself to the washing machine soon so my hubby can have socks to wear to the basement where he insists he works but I have serious doubts work. Nah. He has slippers.

I could go get a massage Not happening sista's. I have sort of spent my life savings and my child's college tuition on Christmas gifts this year.

I could blog. Oh wait. I am. Ha.

I did survive the sadness that comes with losing a loved one right before the holidays. We all survived. My husband is sad and misses his dad a ton. My daughter is still having troubles talking about him without big alligator tears rolling down her sweet face. I am still crying when need be. Golly we miss that old fool. But. We survived with heavy hearts.

We were all spoiled rotten once again for Christmas. My daughter is definitely not hurting for a damn thing. Sadly. She doesn't get to play with anything until she learns to clean her room. Can I get a woo-hoo from all the mom's who stick to their guns?

I am pretty pumped about getting shit-faced for New Years Eve. Oh yeah. I will probably show my tits a few hundred times. This is sort of a tradition when I get toasted. Hopefully I won't be cold and somebody will not lose their eye.

I truly hope you all had a terrific Christmas as well and that you cherish you moments with your loved ones. And if you are grieving over a loved one as well.....hold on to your faith and your memories. I love you and you and you.

Tuesday, December 23, 2008

I Quit.

O yeah. I quit. I am done arguing. I am done fighting. I am done repeating myself over and over.

Tonight, after I told my daughter repeatedly to eat her supper so we can go see a movie, I finally blew a plug. Instead of yelling or throwing out ultimatums I told her to do whatever she wanted. If her supper was not consumed or the dishes were not stacked in the dishwasher on time then we just wouldn't go. I slowly ate my supper, put my dishes in the dishwasher and walked into my room. I knew I couldn't hold my tongue and I knew I would eventually cave and yell "Hurry the hell up" so I laid in my bedroom trying to meditate to lower my blood pressure.

Five minutes later my daughter bursts into the room with her shoes on and by a small miracle even had her coat on. She cleaned up after herself and was anxiously awaiting me by the door.

I couldn't believe it actually worked. I felt empowered. I can do this mom thing after all. The past few months I have doubted my parenting skills as my daughter has challenged me with a multitude of different antics. The worst being late all the time, constantly needing harassed. I cannot stand being late. I find it terribly rude and uncalled for. And then my daughter, the watermelon with shoulders that I tried to push out of my vagina but ended up being ripped from my womb, is always.always.ALWAYS late. Woe is me. I have grounded her, yelled at her, took things from her, jumped up in down in a fit of rage in front of her and I have shed many crocodile tears because of her. And every single thing has failed. Miserably.

Until today. I always knew that allowing children to make their own mistakes and therefore having their own consequences worked but that mother needs to have patience, tolerance and in my humble opinion, needs to be freaking Mother Theresa to achieve this sort of discipline. I know I am a pathetic loseramazing but I am no saint....yet. But dammmnnnn....I proved that I do have a wee bit of patience left.

So. I praised her, loved up on her and was ridiculously excited that we would make it to the show on time....for once.

Until I saw my husband sitting on the couch, clearly not ready to go.

We were, as always, 10minutes late for the show.

Sunday, December 21, 2008

Because I have nothing else.

Because I have nothing positive to write unless you want me to moan and groan about how much I hate South Dakota weather, I am going to tell you some more facts about me. Oh stop. No need for the applause. Stop it. I can hear you hooting and hollering. Really. You guys should get a life. Just saying that nobody should be that excited about me. Come on now. Settle down.

Oh alright. I will come back to reality now. It was a nice dream though. Thank you for that much.

Ahem. And the top 10 things you should know about me this week are:

1. I think Mark Ballas, the pro from my all time favorite Reason for living Dancing with the Stars a hottie and I would totally bump uglies with him. Except he doesn't have the uglies. I do. So. That sucks.

2. I also think my little heart throb Zac Efron is a gift from God for all of us women to drool look at. Oh. He is some good eye candy.

3. I have recently taught myself to crochet. It's too bad the Afghan that I am making is turning out to be a blanket for a mouse but that is bygones. I really need to learn how to do corners though.

4. I got a pedicure this weekend with a friend and the guy who did my pedicure was flirting with me something fierce. Well. I believe he was flirting with me. I couldn't understand a damn word he said as he is from China (or Vietnam). But it was in his eyes people.

5. I also got really paranoid when he was talking to his mom (whom owns the spa). I'm sure they said something about my feet looking like a crusty ole' scouring pad. I haven't used my PediEgg in a few weeks. I've been busy crocheting and drooling over young pups.

6. I also haven't had time to pluck those pesky whiskers growing on my chiny, chin, chin. That is my plan for this Sunday day.

7. I love watching "How clean is your house." They are two British ladies who shake their wrinkled fingers at dirty people and their nasty houses. Some people are freaking gross man. Ick. But it always makes me feel really good about my own housekeeping.

8. I also love, love, love watching "House Hunters." No reason for this. Just do.

(p.s. I am not linking anything today because I am a lazy blob. You should know this by now. So. Goggle anything you want to know about.)

9. I hate winter with a blazing anger. I hate it and still don't know why I live here in the Midwest. Stupidity is my best explanation.

9. I did nine over again because I am pretty sure you all knew that about my hate relationship with winter..

10. I am infatuated with snow man figurines. Love them soooo much. I love them. I even made up a song for them when I was decorating for Christmas/Winter. This does NOT mean that I love winter though. My snow man figurines do not cause frost bite, nostrils freezing shut, and nasty white slush.

Alright. There you have it folks. Enjoy. Or don't. Whichever works for you.

I must go now and pluck my whiskers, shower and get my ass out the door just to freeze my ass off to go to my daughters dance recital. And maybe I'll do a little shopping considering we will be at the mall anyway. Retail therapy works well for me.

Peace and Happy Holidays my crazy friends.

Tuesday, December 16, 2008

The "real" Christmas Card.

Merry Belated Christmas and a Happy New Freaking Year.

Hello Friends and Family. I hope you this letter finds you well, happy and for crimeney out loud, I hope it finds you warm because so far mother nature has been a slut to us here in the Midwest.

This year has been a whirlwind. I had diarrhea 65 days of the year and the other 300 I was constipated. At this time, you should be thankful you are not my doctor because he gets the whole picture when I am discussing this. Color, texture, firmness etc. Did I mention that my doctor is "Hot" and it is really embarrassing when you are discussing the firmness of your poo. Bygones.

I still do shit for the PTO even though I unofficially stepped down from Vice President last year. I'm a sucker. Next year, I swear, I will be null and void from the PTO. If you have small children just entering Kindergarten next year, take my advice and run for the hills if the PTO tries to enlist you. Just saying.

Oh, and I sell dildo's and butt plugs for a living.

My daughter is a mouthy preteen. The good news is that because she knows everything Craig and I have decided to let her rent her own apartment and move out at 11yrs old. She will be fine and we will only be right up the street drinking at the bar if she needs us. Just a hop, skip and taxi ride home for us to get to her. We also decided that she can drop out of school because it is totally cramping her style. Besides, she knows it all, why does she need school?

And she is always, always late. She's a pokey ass. This way, she need not worry about getting to school on time.

The husband is working from home now and I am drinking daily. It's so much better to tolerate when you are completely shit-faced. He is also the Assistant Chief on the Fire Department which probably has saved him from being murdered by me. At least he is gone more. His bald spot isn't showing signs of growing, so that's good. Someday he will fart is asshole out and he smells like hot garbage 60% of his life. He could probably win a farting contest though, so we always have that going for us. Oh. And he snores like a banshee. Some valuable advise, putting a pillow over their face only temporarily stops the snoring when they stop breathing. The cops will question this though and it turns into a ton of paperwork. I find jabbing him with my elbow works the best.

My hot flashes are out of control and turn me into a raging bitch. One of my dogs is the phantom shittier and shits downstairs occasionally. I find punishing them both by rubbing their noses in it makes me feel much better. And because they cannot mouth back to me I don't give a shit what they think. I procrastinate something fierce and can be labeled lazy. This is why you are getting your Christmas card in July.

Have yourself a Merry little Christmas friends and family. Don't forget to drop a $20 in my envelope for my Christmas present. If you are family, we don't accept anything less then $50. I will break your legs if it isn't at least that.

And I almost forgot. We are also a grieving family and I find myself more aggravated because my father-in-law isn't here for me to pick on anymore. So. This causes my anger to build up. Christmas will never be my favorite holiday again because of losing him so close to the holidays. Maybe Martin Lutheran King Day will be a fav of mine now. Anyway, you may not want to come for a visit anytime soon. I'm liable to pick on you. And most of you getting this letter are snot-nosed babies who cannot tolerate a good beating. Pansies.


Monday, December 15, 2008

What is a Cracker to do?

I'm incredibly bored. I really couldn't get an more bored. I could clean more, but I don't feel like it. I could finish decorating my finished basement, but that would require me to go into the garage to find things and it is toooo damn cold to be in there. I can't leave the house because my nostrils freeze together and I suffocate. is really that damn cold. My nipples are inverting and poking out my back. It isn't pretty.

I could sit and write a post and watch a movie, which is what I really am doing however, the ants in my pants are getting the best of me and my restless leg syndrome makes me feel like I am moving, even though I am stationary. This totally sucks when you are trying to get some shut eye. I have considered cutting my legs off sometimes.

I could tackle the disaster of a room that my daughter resides in but I already threatened her that if she doesn't do it, she will be grounded. And I don't know how you feel about groundings, but I feel it is actually more punishment for me. So, I guess I'll give her yet another day to finally make it look presentable and not like a pack of wolves ransacked her bedroom. A troll would consider it disgusting.

I can give you some valuable cleaning tips since it is what I do best. Plus, I am a lazy piece of slime and I always look for the easiest way to clean. So, I will pass my knowledge onto other lazy pieces of slime too. Your welcome.

1: Use paper bags to clean your mirrors. Newspaper works well too but if you insist on paper instead of plastic, now you have another reason to get what you want.

2: Shaving cream is soap. And so I lather it up in the shower while I am allowing the hot shower to relax my cramped muscles. Then I use a washcloth and clean the tub and shower. It works might fine. And you don't burn your lungs out with toxic fumes.

3: If you have a nasty stubborn ring around the tub, grab a jar of mayonnaise (which isn't any more expensive then cleaning solutions), rub it into the ring and leave over night. Rinse the next morning and viola'....ring around the tub vanished before your very eyes. Or instead of rinsing it out you can make your family packed lunches and that my friends, is called multi-tasking.

4. Lemon juice is awesome for removing rust. And it smells so fresh and clean.

5. Put some baking soda in the toilet and let it sit for awhile. Flush and see how nicely the bowl sparkles. Until your husband rushes in with a newspaper. It ain't so pretty after that.

6. Use tea bags in warm water to wash your hard wood floors. Oh.So.Pretty.

7. Duct tape doubles as a lint brush. It does have more uses then just shutting up a mouthy pre-teen.

8. Put some nice smelling dryer sheets under the couch cushions. It will smell great for weeks. Don't bother removing the crusty food, pencils, mouse turds or anything else. Nobody will see it but they will smell the fresh smell of dryer sheets.

Alright, the Restless Leg Syndrome and ADHD isn't going to let up so I must run around in a circle for a few hours. It's gonna be awkward when visitors come over later.

Happy cleaning.....or not. But please for the love that is all holy, never allow your house to look like this.
You are ultimately a big pile of raunch if you live like this. Just saying.

Monday, December 8, 2008

A fly on our wall....

My marriage is strong, fun, and will last a lifetime. We have an understanding between each other. However, our marriage is always put on a pedestal by others. People envy our marriage. People wish they had a loving marriage like us.

It is true. My husband is a very affectionate man. He routinely shows his love in front of others as I do as well. We are truly, deeply, madly in love. We love our lives, we love our daughter, we love our family. We share love with each other and yes...I think my husband is pretty terrific as well. I am proud of the bond we worked so hard to achieve and I am proud to say that I am pretty spoiled rotten.

But....and this is a big but...we do have our moments of wanting to poke each other in the eye sockets. We have our moments that we leave the house running to get the hell away from each other. I have been known to call my husbands friends and beg them to take him to the bar and out of the house. Especially when my favorite show is on and he is whining like a baby.

You would laugh or cry if you were a fly on our wall though. It can sound something like this.

Husband: "You are being bitchy."

Me: "You are being a bag of vomit!"

Then there are the days that he makes me want to push him down the stairs. For instance. My husband is completely dependant upon me. I'm surprised I haven't had to wipe his ass yet. He cannot manage anything without my help. I know it is a cliche to say "He is like another child" but honestly....he IS like another child. My ears bleed. I hear any given day:

"Honey, Hon, Hooonnneeeyyy" or "" or "Woooffff, Wooooffff, Wooooffff, Bark, Woof,Bark"

from the kid, the husband and the dogs. And then there is the phone. I get asked daily for favors from somebody. I want to hide under a blanket of warm sand in Bermuda from these people. I.Am.Not.Kidding. It is annoying as SHIT.

I swear it is the curse of "Stay-at-home" mom. Your husband expects the world, your kid expects the universe and the friends/other family/acquaintances expect the leftovers. Apparently, my "job" was to become every one's "bitch" when I became the stay-at-home mom. It stinks of hot garbage.

And if that isn't enough, I am also expected to do much more because I only have one kid. So, that means if Sheylee's friends have siblings, then I am expected to pick up slack and be responsible for play dates. I'm considering pulling my child out of school, ending all relationships with her friends and homeschooling her. Pretty much I'm going to turn her into a hermit. It's appropriate since I'm considered a "troll".

Today I got mad at my husband/overgrown-child and made up a Christmas song for him to hear.

To the song "Deck the Halls"

"Deck Craig's balls with a bunch of bruises.....falalalalalalala....laaaaaa!"

He has since left the house giving me the space that I desperately needed. This is where "Understanding" comes into play. He understood that if he didn't get out of my face, he would have his balls for lunch. It's good to be evil.

Thursday, December 4, 2008

You cannot laugh!!!

My daughter. My adorable, sweet, perfect (at times) daughter.


She is my daughter. And for that.....I have no one to blame but myself.

I'll explain. This is another story of how my daughter can embarrass the shit right out of me.

We decided to go shopping for her teachers Christmas gifts and a few of her friends gifts as well (which resulted in buying 10 gifts for all her "best friends"). We were in a store at the mall that has a variety of things. Skanky things if you go in the wrong area (I avoid when I'm with my child but ironically it happens to be my favorite shopping spot when I'm alone), kid things in the good area and a great assortment of cheaper but cool gifts. And there is an area that the teenagers that look like they worship the devil find their clothes.

My daughter, who was staring down a young teenage girl dressed in baggy black pants, chains hanging lower then her pants, spiked black hair, some shirt that had a demonic saying on it, white make-up, black lipstick, and earrings all over the place. She was spooky. I said a few "hail Mary's" after I looked into her strange eyes. Anyway......

My daughter, who never seems to know when to shut her hole, yells:

"Mom, is that a girl or a boy that is dressed all Gothic?"

(imagine her saying this with her hand on her hip, her eyes rolling and her head sashaying)

I prayed like the dickens and pushed (literally) my daughter out the door. I felt the sting on the back of my head from the girl's stares. Gah!

After lecturing her about stereotyping.....and....I'm ashamed to say.....after I got on my knees thanking God I didn't die from Gothic Girl killing us (What? Don't judge know damn well you stereotype too......)we proceeded to Younkers. I was interested in bedding. We happened to go through the make-up area. A older lady was getting a make-over. My daughter, who thinks she is the fashion guru (even though her coat, which is supposed to be a bright green, is covered in chocolate milk, mud and who the hell knows what else) mentions very loudly:

"That lipstick looked hideous on her!"

This is where I considered taking her to the security guards and telling them she was a lost child.

Me...being the patient mother I am, told her that I would shave her head bald the next time she embarrasses me like that. And I mean it people. I will Her head bald. That needed clarification. Moving on.......

We made it through Thanksgiving without my father-in-law, his birthday and now Christmas and my daughter's birthday are coming up. We are not anticipating the holidays at all. Well. Craig and I are not anticipating daughter has presents on the brain right now...which is fine by me. I hate to see it when she misses her papa. We still have some stress and big decisions that we need to get through but all in all.....we are doing good. If you could pray that my husband can find a job he enjoys and not one that he despises, I would be grateful. And pray that we find some peace in our heart. Thank you so much.

Now. For you amusement. A funny joke.

What do you call a delivery truck full of vibrators on Christmas Eve?

Toys for Twats!

ha, ha, ha.

Monday, December 1, 2008

A side of Humor with my Insanity.

Today was one of those "kapow in the kisser" days. I found out that a young kid I know passed away this past weekend from injuries sustained in a motorcycle accident. My "Scoober Boober" dog has what I believe is a intestinal blockage. She just got a mouth full of mineral oil per the Internets advice. My "Vamper Rampers" dog cracked her nail straight down the middle all the way to the bottom and bled all over the place. This means I will be carting two disobedient but very loved mutts to the vet tomorrow. It should be completely shitty. But I will sell my kidney to fix my fur kids. Not to mention I could never, ever tell my daughter that her best pal's died.

I decided that my day was crap so I took my daughter and her friend to see the Wizard of Winter. You probably all seen the Budweiser commercial with the house that lights up to Christmas music? Well....we have our own (and better) house in a town only a few miles away. Go here to check out this spectacular light show. It only has video's from the prior years and I must say, this years is bigger and better plus his neighbors are getting into the spirit too. So, it is more then one house "dancing" to Christmas music. And...And...And...he takes donations and all proceeds goes to Make a Wish! In the last 3yrs, he has raised over $50,000!!!! It's magnificent
So, in the car my daughter reminded me of a very funny story. I thought I would share.

Sheylee was about 5yrs old and decided that she was not able to wipe her own butt anymore. So, she would call you into the bathroom, where you would find her bent over with her butt cheeks spread and poop smeared all over. It was soooooo not pretty.

Me and my husband were going insane. She was in school for criminey out loud. I'm just glad her bowl movements were always on schedule and always when she was home. I couldn't imagine the embarrassment of her teacher finding her in this position. the time we were remodeling our bathroom. There was a gigantic hole where the tub was going to go. My husband and I were downstairs working when we heard the words: "Mooooommmm.....Dddddaaaadddd.....Come wipe my butt." She didn't know we were downstairs so my husband yells up through the hole:

"Sheyleeeeee.....This is the Butt need to start wiping your own butt!"

I heard Sheylee say:

"Oh my just scared the crap out of me. Who are you?"

My husband repeats:

"This is the Butt God. I came here to tell you that you are too old to have your mom and dad wipe your butt. It's gross. Staaaarrtttt wiiiipppiiinnngggg yyyyooooouuuuurrrr ooowwwwnnnn bbbuuuttttt!"

I laughed until I peed. It was hilarious. I hear Sheylee go:

"Fine. I will wipe my own butt. But it is not my fault if I have poop in my undies!"

It may not be funny to you.....but the Butt God story is a classic in our home. We laugh every time. I get the vision of my parents being old and decrepit and living here instead of a nursing home. I get the unsettling vision of my parents needing their butt's wiped and hearing my husband yelling down to them:

"This is the Butt God....wipe your own Butt!"

I'm gonna go drink a little wine and pray that my pups are all better soon. I'm gonna pray for Matt, the young kid who lost his life this last weekend and I'm gonna think about his family. My heart is heavy. Not to mention tomorrow would have been my father-in-law's 64th Birthday. I miss him terribly. I wish he was here. I could really use some advice right now. My husband is not so hip on his current job because they are being dorks and I know he could use his dad's wisdom. My father-in-law was the most brilliant business man I have ever known. *sigh* But I keep on "Keeping ON" because he would not be at peace if we were not. But that doesn't mean I can't wish for him here.

Fly High Matt!

Happy Birthday Dave. We miss you so very much! I can almost feel your strong hugs that I would so often get. Just one more hug, one more smile, one more laugh, one more day. We love you!