Is it just me or is Ramble On one of the best songs ever written?
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
Dear Binky,
Okay Mr. I drink beer and design witty t-shirts in my spare time. Evidently, I need to explain to you what it is I do all day so that maybe, just maybe you'll get a glimpse into the life of a woman.
"Mommy, mommy....change me," she says to me at 6:10 in the morning. It feels like I just went to sleep 5 minutes ago. How can it be morning already? "Mommy change me!" she yells. "I wanna go in the play room." I groan and turn to look at the clock one more time just to make sure I'm not dreaming or something. I get out of bed. "Where's your sister?" I ask. Her reply, "I wanna watch Dragon Tales! Mommy put Dragon Tales on now!" she shouts. "Quiet you'll wake up your sister," I whisper. "I want milky", she demands again. I walk to the kitchen realizing how badly I have to pee. I can't leave to go pee though because she'll get upset that I haven't brought her her milk that she so desperately needs in order for her happiness to be complete. So I tighten my legs together and start hopping from one foot to another as I poor the milk in her sippy cup. Of course the pouring of the milk is not exactly helping with the whole pee issue. I'm trying to get the damn lid tightened around the sippy cup and of course I can't do it. Damn I really have to pee!
I manage to walk out of the kitchen without wetting myself. I hand her the sippy. And then I hear it. Their bedroom door is opening. The other one is poking her head out. "Mommy I need milky...
And that's just the first 10 minutes of my day. Now do the math and figure out how the rest of the day works from there. I am mommy. My job is to keep my mouth shut while changing diapers, potty training, filling sippy cups, changing clothes, doing laundry, making meals, vacuuming, loading the dishwasher, stopping to color a picture with them, washing faces, mopping the floor, making the beds, stopping to let them play outside, and filling the bathtub with just the right amount of bubbles. I am my children's bitch. I will continue to be their bitch until they turn an appropriate age. So Mr. I drink beer and make witty t-shirts in my spare time, have I given you a reasonable excuse for why I couldn't sit at my computer and write about shit that irritates me in a timely manner? LOL! I just had to give you shit Binky. Muah!
"Mommy, mommy....change me," she says to me at 6:10 in the morning. It feels like I just went to sleep 5 minutes ago. How can it be morning already? "Mommy change me!" she yells. "I wanna go in the play room." I groan and turn to look at the clock one more time just to make sure I'm not dreaming or something. I get out of bed. "Where's your sister?" I ask. Her reply, "I wanna watch Dragon Tales! Mommy put Dragon Tales on now!" she shouts. "Quiet you'll wake up your sister," I whisper. "I want milky", she demands again. I walk to the kitchen realizing how badly I have to pee. I can't leave to go pee though because she'll get upset that I haven't brought her her milk that she so desperately needs in order for her happiness to be complete. So I tighten my legs together and start hopping from one foot to another as I poor the milk in her sippy cup. Of course the pouring of the milk is not exactly helping with the whole pee issue. I'm trying to get the damn lid tightened around the sippy cup and of course I can't do it. Damn I really have to pee!
I manage to walk out of the kitchen without wetting myself. I hand her the sippy. And then I hear it. Their bedroom door is opening. The other one is poking her head out. "Mommy I need milky...
And that's just the first 10 minutes of my day. Now do the math and figure out how the rest of the day works from there. I am mommy. My job is to keep my mouth shut while changing diapers, potty training, filling sippy cups, changing clothes, doing laundry, making meals, vacuuming, loading the dishwasher, stopping to color a picture with them, washing faces, mopping the floor, making the beds, stopping to let them play outside, and filling the bathtub with just the right amount of bubbles. I am my children's bitch. I will continue to be their bitch until they turn an appropriate age. So Mr. I drink beer and make witty t-shirts in my spare time, have I given you a reasonable excuse for why I couldn't sit at my computer and write about shit that irritates me in a timely manner? LOL! I just had to give you shit Binky. Muah!
Thursday, October 18, 2007
My Dear Friend Alcohol
Dear Alcohol,
First and foremost, let me tell you that I'm a huge fan of yours. As my friend, you always seem to be there when needed. The perfect post-work cocktail, a beer at the game, and you're even around at the holidays (hidden inside chocolates as you warm us when we're stuck in the midst of endless family gatherings). However, lately I've been wondering about your intentions. While I want to believe that you have my best interests at heart, I feel that your influence has led to some unwise consequences:
1. Phone Calls and text messages: While I agree with you that communication is important, I question the suggestion that any conversation after 2 a.m. can have much substance or necessity. Why would you make me call my ex's? Especially when I know, for a fact, they DO NOT want to hear from me during the day, let alone all hours of the night.
2. Eating: Now, you know I love a good meal. But, why do you suggest that I eat a taco with chili sauce along with a big Italian meatball and some stale chips [ washed down with wine & topped off with a Kit Kat AFTER a few cheese curls & chili cheese fries ]? I'm an eclectic eater but, I think you went too far this time.
3. Clumsiness: Unless you're subtly trying to tell me that I need to do more yoga to improve my balance, I see NO need to hammer this issue home by causing me to fall down. It's completely unnecessary, and the black & blue marks that appear on my body mysteriously the next day are beyond me. Similarly, it should never take me more than 45 seconds to get the front door key into the lock.
4. Furthermore: The hangovers have GOT to stop! This is getting ridiculous. I know a little penance for our previous evening's debauchery may be in order. But, the 3 p.m. hangover immobility is completely unacceptable My entire day is shot. I ask that if the proper precautions are taken [ water, vitamin B, bread products, aspirin ] prior to going to sleep/passing out [ face down on the kitchen floor with a bag of popcorn or wherever . The hangover should be minimal and in no way interfere with my daily activities.
Alcohol, I have enjoyed our friendship for some years now and would like to ensure that we remain on good terms. You've been the invoker of great stories, the provocation for much laughter, and the needed companion when I just don't know what to do with the extra money in my pockets.
In order to continue this friendship, I ask that you carefully review my grievances above and address them immediately. I will look for an answer no later than Friday 3 p.m. [ pre happy hour ] on your possible solutions. And hopefully we can continue this fruitful partnership.
Thank you,
Your Biggest Fan
P.S. Please take a moment or two and note the following items below that I think may be of some interest to you.
THINGS THAT ARE DIFFICULT TO SAY WHEN DRUNK:
1. Innovative
2. Preliminary
3. Proliferation
4. Cinnamon
THINGS THAT ARE VERY DIFFICULT TO SAY WHEN DRUNK:
1. Specificity
2. British Constitution
3. Passive-Aggressive Disorder
THINGS THAT ARE DOWNRIGHT IMPOSSIBLE TO SAY WHEN DRUNK:
1. Thanks, but I don't want to have sex.
2. Nope, no more beer for me.
3. Sorry, but you're not really my type.
4. Good evening, officer Isn't it lovely out tonight?
5. Oh, I couldn't. No one wants to hear me sing
First and foremost, let me tell you that I'm a huge fan of yours. As my friend, you always seem to be there when needed. The perfect post-work cocktail, a beer at the game, and you're even around at the holidays (hidden inside chocolates as you warm us when we're stuck in the midst of endless family gatherings). However, lately I've been wondering about your intentions. While I want to believe that you have my best interests at heart, I feel that your influence has led to some unwise consequences:
1. Phone Calls and text messages: While I agree with you that communication is important, I question the suggestion that any conversation after 2 a.m. can have much substance or necessity. Why would you make me call my ex's? Especially when I know, for a fact, they DO NOT want to hear from me during the day, let alone all hours of the night.
2. Eating: Now, you know I love a good meal. But, why do you suggest that I eat a taco with chili sauce along with a big Italian meatball and some stale chips [ washed down with wine & topped off with a Kit Kat AFTER a few cheese curls & chili cheese fries ]? I'm an eclectic eater but, I think you went too far this time.
3. Clumsiness: Unless you're subtly trying to tell me that I need to do more yoga to improve my balance, I see NO need to hammer this issue home by causing me to fall down. It's completely unnecessary, and the black & blue marks that appear on my body mysteriously the next day are beyond me. Similarly, it should never take me more than 45 seconds to get the front door key into the lock.
4. Furthermore: The hangovers have GOT to stop! This is getting ridiculous. I know a little penance for our previous evening's debauchery may be in order. But, the 3 p.m. hangover immobility is completely unacceptable My entire day is shot. I ask that if the proper precautions are taken [ water, vitamin B, bread products, aspirin ] prior to going to sleep/passing out [ face down on the kitchen floor with a bag of popcorn or wherever . The hangover should be minimal and in no way interfere with my daily activities.
Alcohol, I have enjoyed our friendship for some years now and would like to ensure that we remain on good terms. You've been the invoker of great stories, the provocation for much laughter, and the needed companion when I just don't know what to do with the extra money in my pockets.
In order to continue this friendship, I ask that you carefully review my grievances above and address them immediately. I will look for an answer no later than Friday 3 p.m. [ pre happy hour ] on your possible solutions. And hopefully we can continue this fruitful partnership.
Thank you,
Your Biggest Fan
P.S. Please take a moment or two and note the following items below that I think may be of some interest to you.
THINGS THAT ARE DIFFICULT TO SAY WHEN DRUNK:
1. Innovative
2. Preliminary
3. Proliferation
4. Cinnamon
THINGS THAT ARE VERY DIFFICULT TO SAY WHEN DRUNK:
1. Specificity
2. British Constitution
3. Passive-Aggressive Disorder
THINGS THAT ARE DOWNRIGHT IMPOSSIBLE TO SAY WHEN DRUNK:
1. Thanks, but I don't want to have sex.
2. Nope, no more beer for me.
3. Sorry, but you're not really my type.
4. Good evening, officer Isn't it lovely out tonight?
5. Oh, I couldn't. No one wants to hear me sing
Fucking Britney Spears
Unbelievable!! The little white trash whore has managed to fuck up again! How do you lose visitation rights to see your kids? What...was she doing a line of coke off her sons changing table? Seriously?!? What a fuck up! The worst part is SHE is the one young girls look up to, which just makes me wanna lose my lunch. Shit! She lost her kids to K-Fed. I never thought I'd see the day. I'm not an old person but I can't believe what the world is coming to. This is why 12-step programs insist that you take it slow. Start off with a plant. If it survives move on to a cat or dog or in Paris Hiltons case a ferret that you can dress up as a rodeo clown. And if that survives then you move on to a relationship/kids. 10 bucks says she would've killed the plant.
Plausible Deniability
Plausible deniability is the term given to the creation of loose and informal chains of command in governments and other large organizations. In the case that assassinations, false flag or black ops or any other illegal or otherwise disreputable and unpopular activities become public, high-ranking officials may deny any connection to or awareness of such act, or the agents used to carry out such act.
In politics and espionage, deniability refers to the ability of a "powerful player" or actor to avoid "blowback" by secretly arranging for an action to be taken on their behalf by a third party—ostensibly unconnected with the major player.
More generally, "plausible deniability" can also apply to any act that leaves little or no evidence of wrongdoing or abuse. Examples of this are the use of electricity or pain-compliance holds as a means of torture or punishment, leaving little or no tangible signs that the abuse ever took place.
So I heard this term AGAIN last night while watching Independence Day. Don't you just love it? It just rolls right off the tongue. I love the meaning though. Look at what it can get you out of. God Bless America!
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
Boobs!
Remember back in the day, when you could put your bra on and not have to adjust your boobs to make sure they fit in the cup properly? What kind of bullshit is this? Thank you pregnancy. I'm all saggy and droopy and I'm not even thirty! I'm just the "Mom Blob". The tummy tuck helped of course. But now, instead of looking like the female version of Buddha, I resemble one of those African tribeswoman you see on the cover of National Geographic. All I need now is a grass skirt and a couple of plates in my lower lip and I can party too. Woo hoo! Once again, thank you jebus for plastic surgeons.
I don't wanna!
I remember summer nights. I remember walking down to the lagoon, our arms loaded down with paper sacks of cheap 40 ouncers we bought at the liquor store. I remember smoking our cigarettes and thinking up stupid sex rhymes to replace movie titles. I remember having fun. I think about it all the time as if it happened just the other day. But, it was so long ago. How did time go by so fast? When did I stop being me? I know I grew up. We all did. We had to, it's life. Is that what changed me? Us? Most of the time I think it's just me. Maybe I'm not as accepting of it as every one else. I miss it all so much. I miss me.
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