NothingSacred

Creepiest Craft Ever

I know you've been there. Your kid comes in and tells you that they have a school report and that they must construct an Indian a Native American costume in which to deliver it. They tell you this at 4:48 on a Tuesday. It is due at 8 AM on Wednesday. It was assigned two weeks ago.

After you finish beating your child (you guys do that, too, right??), you haul cookies to your local craft store to gather supplies for what will undoubtedly be the shoddiest, most poorly crafted costume in the room that will make all others wonder if you are the developmentally disabled mother of an above-average-intelligence child ('cause all our kids are brillz, huh??). Sadly, those other Alpha Moms already KNOW you so you'll have to suck up their pitiful glances in your direction as you drop off Chief Hot Mess.

Anway, back to your trip to the craft store... which seems to have been taken over by total fucking aliens and possibly a busload of German tourists. Nothing is where it should be logically placed, the place is like a wandering through a warehouse of absolutely useless-for-your-needs crap.

And can I just ask: When did pattern-makers decide that Native American costume patterns were no longer needed by moms? Yes, I get it. Playing cowboys and Indians isn't PC, but fer Chrissakes, are we going to just ignore the fact that our national history includes Native Americans? And sometimes school dictates that not only Pilgrims show up to a party!??! WTF?! I found patterns for cowboys & pilgrims, soldiers, gladiators, and even entire passion play set-ups but not a SINGLE Native American one! Evidently the pattern-makers think a retarded chimpanzee can knock together a good Tecumseh costume... but they are mistaken. Long story short: I was on my own.

So as I wandered the aisles, heart racing in panic, eyes darting through the wares (There! There! I can construct a full headdress out of a pink boa, right?!?), what should fall upon my gaze? Only the creepiest fucking craft box I've ever seen.

Behold, The Reborn:

You really have to see it in person, but hurry! It's on clearance. Strange these devil-spawn reborn babies aren't flying off the shelves!

Maybe it was because I was in a Hobby Lobby (which, you know, is so Christian it's closed on Sundays...) but when I was faced with the word "Reborn" in the baby context I couldn't help to wonder if this isn't some sort of new post-abortion therapeutic craft? (In which case they should hand them out at Planned Parenthood.)  Or some sort of Evangelical Baptismal deal... which is silly since a baby has no sins from which to be "reborn"... but whatever.

My absolute favorite is the little "Make a Baby!" florette!! Which got me to thinking maybe this isn't a craft at all, but there's a tiny man trapped in that box, all studly and fertile, just waiting to knock a sister up. Or maybe it's a cut-rate spermbank option? You crack open the box and find a little vial of hobo semen, a turkey baster and a squeeze-tube of cut rate lube and instructions in broken Chinglish. I don't know. 

I don't know what the fuck is in that box, and frankly, it has kept me up wondering. Mostly because now I am too terrified to sleep for fear of dreams of little "reborn" preemies. And the type of woman who would want one of these laying around her house.

Oh! The costume? Yeah, I ended up renting one from the local dinner theater. Yep. Suck that, Alpha Moms!!

And I heard from a friend who witnessed it: Deuce (Chief Dinner Theater) told the entire class a long, elaborate story about how he & I made the damn thing in my studio! Yep. He lied his ass off. Without me even TELLING him to! God, I love that kid.

Oh shit. I just realized I haven't returned that costume yet....

Comparing Family Plans

Dear, sweet Edna.... She brings so much joy (and snot-spurting snorts of laughter) to my life.

As I've written before, Edna and her dear husband, Darth Vega (from now on referred to as DV) have four gorgeous little ones. A couple of them may even have been planned.

For years Edna has struggled with differing birth control methods as she's really sensitive to any sort of hormonal interference and unusually suspect of Big Pharma malfeasance.  So they've tried a variety of methods, usually falling back to their Catholic fave, the rhythym method. (Enter into evidence, Your Honor, their family as an example of how reliable that is.)

*Let this blog in no way insinuate that any of the mini Ednas blessing our beautiful world are not, each and every one, entirely welcome and joyous.

So, ths last time Edna was pregged up the topic of The Big Snip came up with DV. Now TOM has done his fatherly duty and had this procedure and I'm happy to say we've never been happier! TOM has told DV about this miraculous endeavor, but DV has been a little, well, gun-shy to embrace this solution.

So last winter when Edna was first blooming with girl 4, DV said he thought he was ready to go for it. She relayed the good news and I encouraged her to have him go get it RIGHT THEN, while he thought it was a good idea. DV can be a bit... mercurial. I told her it was perfect timing. She was already pregged and by  the time she was unpregged he'd be 6 months in on shooting blanks. Well... they dawdled. And then they had the ultrasound. Once DV heard it was another girl suddenly the Snip didn't sound so attractive. I'd warned her to strike while the iron was hot. 

So I haven't heard anything about it in awhile, but then, yesterday, I got these texts. (Which are a real labor of love for Edna as she still uses a flip phone! (*snicker*) 

Ok, so here is what DV is requesting. He wants Edna to drop her phone plan, which she clings to fiercely as she's always had the phone plans in her name. It's her weird little independence symbol. But she doesn't want to give it up. DV, on the other hand, just got on a family member's plan so he could upgrade to a new iphone and pay a ton less. So for Edna to do the same (and enter the 20-teens in phone tech) she would have to get on DV's family member's plan. Which she's not crazy about doing. But you know how that is... you like to be in control of your own bills, you know?

Well, DV evidently views this as some way that would make it harder for Edna to ever leave him if she ever wanted to do that.  Something as ironclad as getting out of a phone contract with AT&T. Forget the other things that may keep her around when things get rocky... 4 kids... and a legal contract... and a promise before GOD! Those things are CAKE to get out of compared to shaking lose of those bastards at the phone company! 

So, DV won't get clipped until Edna submits to the ultimate act of commitment: joining him on his phone's family plan. Thus... for Edna to get the family plan SHE needs (no more babies) she must accept another sort of family plan.

You see now how Edna keeps me laughing til my cheeks hurt. 

Learnin' the Internets

 

TOM just posted this to his facebook and it made me so deliriously giggly, I had to share it with the world (C'mon, he's only got a few hundred friends... and we all know my blog circulation is WAAAAAY bigger than that!). 

Thanks to my brother in law, my Grandma finally got email!

So I sent her the following message: "I’m really glad you have email now! I can send you pictures of the kids and drop in to say hi more often this way! Write me back so I know this is you. Love you!" 

 
She replied: "First I need your e mail address."

A Very Little Naughty Badger Snack

Blame Game of Thrones... it has turned this little guy my most bizarre celebrity crush ever. 

I don't know if it's him or the character he plays or my recent inability to STOP reading George R.R. Martin's incredible Game of Thrones book series (I'm dragging my feet on this last one, knowing that it could be years to wait for the 6th of 7 books to be published-- but screamed through the first 4,000+ pages of the other books in just over a month). At any rate. This is my new cougar snack. Lite.

So anyway, what with my new found midgie mania, I couldn't help but click on this link when I saw it (plus, it involved Gordon Ramsey, who quite clearly is a potty-mouthed soul brother of mine). (thanks, MickG!).

Go on. I'll wait.

Come back when you're done so we can ask some pertinent questions.

 

Like...

 

WTF?!?!?! Dwarf Porn Actor Found Dead in a BADGER'S DEN?!?!

At first I thought "badger's den" must be a hipster euphemism that I'm just too old to get. And then I read the story and it turns out-- he was found in an actual fucking badger's den!! WHAT?!?

And they aren't ruling out suicide? Really? It's possible that of all the places this PORN STAR would choose to off himself would be in a badger's den?!? How would you even do it there?!  Or did he wait for the badger to come home, find him and offer himself up to be eaten by  the nasty mean little thing? Suicide by badger?! That's a new one.

Let's say it wasn't a suicide. Give the guy the benefit of the doubt. As sad as one must be to not only be a porn star, but one that looks like Gordon Ramsey (!), let's say that he wasn't so depressed as to off himself with an angry, overstuffed weasel and was looking forward to, at the very least, his next fluffing session. That means that this thing went out and got him! AAAGGGHHH!!! Scary, man-eating badgers on the loose!

Hide yo children! Hide yo wife! Hide yo husbands! (Especially if they're small.)

As if dwarves didn't have ENOUGH shit to deal with -- now they gotta worry about badgers, too?!? 

Chicken or the Egg

            Today at lunch with my friend, C, I was shamelessly promoting how cute my newest litter-pup, Trey, is. In fact, I pondered if he was my cutest work to date, to which C threw out the theory that as one has more children they get cuter. As in, your worst looking is your firstborn, and your best is your last born. Immediately we began trying to find any holes in this theory.

        [We now need to break and all have a communal giggle at the fact that the Old Man just walked in here, flash light in hand, to ask me to check out what I thought the thing in the roof of his mouth was.  Whoa. The boys are in bed, there, Buck-O, I'm officially off-duty. You'll have to find some other lucky loser to inspect your mouth sores, Buddy.  Wowza!]

             Ok, so back to C's theory. We immediatley recognize the truth from the Wilson bro's standpoint. Owen may be funny, but technically, Luke is cuter (could this lead to suicidal tendencies... I should hope not.. but then, can I really believe anyone would commit Hara-kiri over Kate Hudson? I mean, she's cute and all, but anyone ever really notice the size of those Sputniks she call ears? Oy!). And then, we consider the Beckham Boys.  Well, without a doubt that Cruz is, indeed, the cutest of the bunch. Have you all seen that little fucker turn into the youngest, cutest B-boy ever during the Spice GIrls Reunion Tour? Priceless. Makes me wish I would've gotten Deuce signed up for some toe-tappin' instruction when he turned 2! Ok, so then we have to wonder (and only time will tell), if Trey will, in fact, be the best looking of the bunch. He's got his work cut out for him, in my opinion. As much as I love Deuce for being the sweetest little creampuff, Ace looks seriously like the Old Man... ie., super-hot. 

            What do you all think? Do kids get better looking the more you have, or are we just easier judges on them as we get older? Maybe what I think is frankly adorable at 33 was only mildly cute at 26.  And then, what if its just that they are cuter for the very fact that they are younger?!?

         Anyway, I'd like to hear your opinions on this-- and I know you all judge your kids, even if you don't want to admit it. There's no frontin' here, sisters! Tell me what you think.

                 Although, I must mention to C... I have thought of an exception: Jim Worrell's big brother. Waaaay cuter than Jim-- although I recently saw him (Jim) at Target... not too shabby, all things considered. Luckily, he didn't see me, as I ducked headfirst into a circular rack of girl's reduced-price peasant tops and when the ensuing commotion caused everyone in the vicinity to look my way I hid behind Ace and acted like I"d dropped an earring. If anyting, he saw a giant butt, but nothing too identifiable). At any rate, his older bro... what was it? John? The dark-headed one. Ay carumba, mami! That was this 14-year-old's ideal man! (Sadly, I have no actual memory of any features on his face, but only the vague impression that I'd deemed Jim's older brother superior to most beating male mammals at the time-- it was 1989, gimme a break. So for now, I'm pretty sure he looked exactly like the Old Man) But then here's a query, C: were they full-blood brothers? I seem to think he may have had a different dad... if so, that excludes them from this postulation all together.

            Additionally, C, if kids get cuter as you have more, than you having any more after The Hay will surely be cruel to the rest of us as we currently must squint or avert our gazes completely at the mere sight of your son. Especially when he smiles. If you have any cuter, I'd say Shit Creek, here we come! Paddles? Nope, don't need 'em! 

Apologies for typos and nonsense; this post powered by Big House White Wine. I'm no wino, but I gotta say... not bad for a screw top. Ha! 

Pike or Pipe? Age-old questions...

I've been dreading this... coming back after such a long time away from posting. The longer between posts the harder it is to return. Not that I haven't been thinking up funny little things to write about, and (of course) there has not been a sabbatical of stupid shit that I have done or things I've done lately to annoy others-- oh, don't worry about that! I just always feel like when I skip a few days and get too busy that everyone loses interest and stops reading this and stops checking in. Also doesn't help that no one bothers to leave comments (its that little link-y thing down there that says "comments")... wow, does your computer come with smell-o-vision, cuz that STUNK of desperation! Yuck! 

Speaking of computers (what a segue!)... guess who is taking the iBook plunge?  That's right, sisters (and brothers)!! I have ordered it! It is on its way! I can't wait!  This blog, in fact, prompted me to finally bite the proverbial bullet. Wait, is that a proverb, or just a cliche? Yeah, anyway.  James filmed me doing something that I need to share with you all-- no! Not THAT, you pervs! And this old clunker, well when I attempted to download the vid onto it, she just couldn't take it, Captain! 

So, last Friday I loaded up on the back of the Old Man's new bike and went promptly to the Apple store with my little Sony camcorder in hand and demanded that they prove to me that their little machines COULD, in fact, transfer that video.  It did!! So I came straight home and ordered me one up.  Why didn't I buy in the store, you ask?  Well, I'd love to share! I LOVE buying stuff off the internet through ebates.com-- it is the best thing going!!! They send you real checks back for shit you buy from your favorite stores, that you're jsut going to buy anyway, and all you have to do is link through their site.  So far this year they've sent me a hund-o back just for thinking of them before I buy! It's the best.  You should get there ASAP (well, after you are done reading this!)... OH! And don't forget to tell 'em I sent you-- they'll gimme more bucks back for that!!  Yippee!  Mama loves savings!!

Ok, so I need your help for a bit-- and this means you'll all actually have to leave comments-- and no, I didn't think this topic up just to get you to do it, but hey, two birds... one stone...

The other day the Old Man came home saying that at the office that day he and some coworkers had debated a little saying and were at loggerheads as to which was correct. Is the saying "Coming Down the Pipe, or coming down the pike"?

I've always thought it was "coming down the pike", as in the "turnpike". I mean, I see how both would be logical, as things travel down both.  But, I've always thought that something "coming down the pike" referred to an event or a job or an idea or a vacation or a party or "exciting things ahead" or something, so I sort of equate those with people bringing them.  And people travel on turnpikes, not in pipes (generally speaking, although I have a few friends that travel with pipes, but that's another post).

I know lots of stuff goes down pipes-- water and gas and all sorts of good stuff like that, but then again, so does sewage.  So, I'm just saying that if something is coming down the pike, I might be likely to look forward to its arrival, whereas, sticking my face up to see whats gonna appear out of the pipe, well, that could just end up real ugly and I might not be so excited for that. Trepidatious may be a better descriptor for that event.  My god, can you imagine if it were a muskrat or something?? Just skittering down a dark pipe and popping out all in your face? (Yes, D, I know you can imagine that, happily, but for the rest of us... TRAU-MA...)  So my vote is for "coming down the PIKE".  How do you all feel?