My Life Requires Alcohol

And whose idea was this detox program anyway?

2010-05-19T18:51:00.003-04:00

I know what you're thinking - Hoodchick and detox? Oh wow, did she go into rehab? Hell no! I'm a little off my rocker but definitely not that far gone.

I came up with this brilliant idea that Bestie and I should do a detox program. And she's enough of a sucker to go along with it. Basically you mix some noxious concoction up with 32 oz of water. You drink one of these every day for 7 days. And it cleanses all the toxins from your system. Well, except for the booze and cigarettes and stuff. Sounds like a good idea, get all the bad stuff out of your body, right?

Let's just say it's not a pleasant experience. When you have to go, you have to go. And I mean right now. Sitting in a meeting with your boss? So sorry, I need to leave. I know you're talking about company strategy and all, but I have some toxins ready to explode from me.

Taking your dog for a nice, long hike through the woods? Oh crap. Literally. Hope that wasn't poison ivy. Feeling embarrassed for me? Don't be. Thankfully I stayed out of the woods that week!

Grow up already!

2010-04-21T21:23:00.001-04:00

Back in September, LMP served my BIL with divorce papers. I was a little upset, but could understand if you’re not happy and you feel like you need to move on, then I respect that decision. I was bummed out about what it means for Mini-J. But hey, what kids today actually have parents who are still married?

I tried to stay neutral. But Switzerland can only take so much. As these things tend to do, it’s gotten ugly. Besides all the childish fighting (because they’re still in the same house and have to stay that way until it’s final) LMP keeps doing really shitty things to people that I care about.

Yeah, my BIL can be a real prick. But you’re leaving. So stop hiding things from each other (from laptops to flat irons) and act like you’re the adults. Hearing about the things you’re doing in front of your kid just makes EVERYONE think you’re dumb asses.
Yes, my BIL has met someone else. Get over it. Who knows who you’ve been screwing, besides everyone seeing you (always in a bar) with men old enough to be your father. This was your decision. Sure, you thought he’d never find anyone and would live alone and be miserable for the rest of his life. Because, as we’ve established, you’re a dumb ass.

Back in February you had a tantrum because my BIL introduced his girlfriend to his family and friends. You called Bestie to get dirt. You even grilled my MIL for information, about her own son, that you then turned around and threatened him with. Do you even care how that made mom or Bestie feel? No, because you’re a dumb ass.

Bestie invited you to an Arbonne party (with wine tasting) tomorrow night. Because we’re still trying to stay out of things and maintain a relationship. But you had to go to my MIL and ask her if SHE wasn’t invited to the party, would she watch Mini-J for you? Well, you fucking bitch, how do you think that made her feel? I didn’t invite her because I know she doesn’t drink wine and I didn’t want her to feel obligated to buy over priced skin care products (and she would have bought some, I know without a doubt.) Was it your intention to hurt this woman who has never done anything to you? Besides babysit her grandson for free while you go out whoring around? Are you a spiteful, immature little bitch or just a dumb ass?

Do I feel better that I got this off of my chest? Yes. I hope it keeps me from spewing forth my opinion of your behavior to your face tomorrow night. BTW, LMP doesn’t stand for little miss perfect anymore…

Hoodchick's back and loaded

2010-04-09T21:26:00.004-04:00

Ok, I haven't written for a really, really long time. I've had a bit of depression going on what with the crappy winter weather, cancer dog, bf's getting divorced, etc. But, some of my friends are totally ragging me so time to stop lurking and blossom back onto the scene, similar to the tulips brightening my flower beds. April showers, bah! I'm an April kid and there's nothing like April to pick up the spirits.

Where to start though - while you all might think I've been slacking I actually have been collecting an assortment of strange pictures, stories and things for your entertainment. Well, they entertained me. The thing that amazed me the most is the number of comments I had queued up to moderate. Some are crap, of course. Some are funny. And then there's this person that commented the following, I'll remind you, on a blog called "My Life Requires Alcohol":

"A profaned, offensive blog...yes, I know that one does not have to read it, right? Pardon me for accidentally visiting the page here and reading a sample of a life certain ones wish not to live of it. Have you drinking considered non-alcoholic beverages and feeding on less junk food?"

Well, I will admit that I just killed a bottle of French Maid Cab (my current favorite) but the FIRST time I read that comment I was stone cold sober and my first thought was "You speaka english?" closely followed by "Douchebag" - neither of which I think the commenter will appreciate. Is it just me, or should they learn to use their internet parental control on their own web access? And, BTW, Douchebag, I don't pardon you.

So, anyway, to catch you up:
Little Miss Perfect (LMP) couldn't live up to her own standards and filed for divorce from my BIL. Boy has this been fun, you're sure to see more posts about this, mostly how much I think they are mentally fucking up Mini-J...

Bestie has a new nickname of TSO - THE SLOW ONE. LOL, that is going to be a fun fun post when I fill in the last few weeks.

And my newest bestie - CB - Cranky Bitch, aka Manlicky, aka TBD. You know when you meet someone and it feels like you've known them FOREVER and can tell them anything (regardless of how much alcohol has been consumed) - that's CB.

So, stay tuned and I hope I live up to my own hype if I survive Captain Clueless' wrath about my jamming to Meatloaf's Bat Out Of Hell album for the last half hour. Jesus, what environment did he grow up in to not appreciate Bat Out Of Hell. Don't you know that I need you? You gotta know that I serve you. For crying out loud you know I love you!

Is that a weasel in your pocket?

2009-12-10T19:53:00.005-05:00

Wait a minute. We have to do this right. Go back and read the title again, but with a flirty suggestive breathy voice. "Is that a (pause) weeaasel in your pocket...?" The response would be "Yes missss, and it's llloaded."

There, now you're getting it. Came across this story a while back and had to save it. You know me and strange animal stories, it's like a fetish or something. Although if I had dangly parts I wouldn't be sticking something down there that could take a chunk out of it.

t's one thing for shoplifters to hide plunder in their pants. But a live ferret? Police said a homeless man in north Florida did just that. And he made it out the door before being challenged.
A 17-year-old witness confronted (the homeless man) in the parking lot and was bitten by the animal after the man allegedly shoved it in the teen's face.
That confrontation makes the ferret a "special weapon" under Florida law. So (homeless man) also faces battery charges for dangerously wielding the animal.

See what I mean! It bit that kids FACE. And what the fuck does a homeless guy need with a ferret anyway?

And think about the whole "special weapon" thing the next time you taunt a woman with your trouser snake.

(Authors note: Do not start lecturing me on the differences between weasels and ferrets. I'm on my 4th glass of wine and weasel just seemed to flow better.)

P.S. Brian Kelly, enjoy the money because you've kissed off all hopes of another winning season!!

Scrooge you too!

2009-12-07T20:01:00.004-05:00

December is a stressful enough time of the year and right now I’m at least 2 weeks behind in, well, just about everything.

I haven’t even started my Christmas cards. I have gifts that need wrapped. Which, at work we “adopted” a nearby school that 90 some percent of the kids families are living at or below poverty level (and that was before the economy tanked.) I have to have that gift wrapped and delivered by Monday. So I might as well wrap the whole pile while I have all the paper and ribbons and shit out. I still have 4 gift cards I need to buy. I need to make 11 pounds of fudge, 3 batches of caramel corn (I used to make popcorn balls, but I can’t get the damn things to come out right since I got my flat top stove), 4 batches of no-bake cookies AND buy containers to pack all that shit in. Not to mention the crap I need to make to take to various holiday parties over the next several weeks. You’re probably wondering why I have to make all this stuff. Between my mom, my sister and my MIL you’d think one of them could figure some of these recipes out. But nooooo, they tell me my fudge is the creamiest, my no-bake cookies are the awesome-ist (which is true) and my caramel corn is just like grandpa used to make. They can never get it to taste as good as mine. Since this is the only flattery I get my head swells so big that I can't think straight and once again I get suckered into making it all.

Also happening this week, my dad has a birthday. He’s still telling everyone he’ll be 39, but really he’s turning 60. So we’re all supposed to go out to dinner Saturday. And I still haven’t found the perfect birthday card. My 18 year old nephew flew in from Oklahoma for a visit and is staying with my parents – but he’ll probably end up here a couple of nights this week. My 12 year wedding anniversary is also this weekend. There was an argument on Sunday that put that milesonte in serious jeopardy. I got in my car and drove 35 minutes to my parent’s house for a visit and still had steam coming out of my ears when I got there.

What with everything that I’ve got going on I said fuck decorating. That’s right. Get over it people. And (spoiler alert) there’s no Santa Claus anyway and I don’t have kids to appreciate the effort. It’s not that I don’t have decorations. I have a whole shitload of decorations. What I don’t have is the time or motivation to dig them all out and set them up. And don’t even get me started on the putting away of the decorations.

Now that I’ve set the background for you, you can understand on Sunday when my mom asked “Do you want a Christmas village set?” why I went a little bonkers. At some point during my tirade of “Are you freakin’ kidding me? Hell no, I don’t want any damn Christmas village! Why does everyone have to get on my ass about not decorating?” Around this time I realized the look on my mom’s face was reminiscent of that time I got caught smoking in the bathroom at school. So I quickly ended with “Oh, but thanks for asking.” Good save, right?

Can I get a Ritalin here? Anyone??

2009-12-02T18:46:00.004-05:00

I meant to post on Thanksgiving Eve, but things happened and I didn't get to it. So, for an update - the dog's in remission for now. I got my stitches out (after getting in trouble for not wearing the annoying splint.) I didn't have to cook for Thanksgiving (thanks Mom!) With the exception of gift cards, all of my Christmas shopping is done. And this evening my internet connection is up.

Seems like everything's getting better. Well, except the weather. And I really can't gripe too much. It's been so warm around here though that it doesn't even seem like Christmas is just around the corner. I will wait until the day after Christmas before I start griping about snow. Maybe.

So, Bestie was trying to get one of those HP laptops that Walmart had on sale. Of course, they probably only had 5 so she didn't manage to get one on Black Friday. Then she tried to buy one on-line (price went up) but they were out of them. Being that I get a discount on computers I told her I'd see what kind of deal I could get her. I swear I've spent 16 hours going through different configurations and sending them to her. I think she's finally settled on one, and I know I'll have to go over and help her set it up. But that's ok, she does a ton of stuff for me so that isn't the real problem.

See, this made me finally get off the fence and order MYSELF a new laptop. And a netbook. So the Captain and I won't be fighting over the crappy laptop he hogs all the time. Should be a good thing, right? But nooooo, now I have to do something about the electronics that seem to be multiplying like rabbits around here. It's going well as I'm sure you can tell by the fact that I'm writing a blog post instead of actually copying files off the 9 year old desktop onto this one.

I don't know what my problem is, but I just keep putting this off. I'm fairly certain that it's been over a year since I turned the damn thing on. I even bought a 1TB external drive to make it easier but I'd rather someone just poke me in the eye with a sharp stick.

Anti-Thanks part II

2009-11-22T20:37:00.006-05:00

Because life’s been force feeding me a big soggy shit sandwich lately, I’m going to lead up to the holiday with a series of suck lists. Hopefully you’re not dealing with these kinds of things so YOU can give extra thanks.

Things that suck about your dog having cancer

• Restraining myself from kicking the vet in the balls when he recommends that I skip the three pack and only buy heartworm treatment a month at a time now
• The steroid treatment that makes him drink, drink, drink and pee, pee, pee – so much for a good night’s sleep or working through lunch
• Listening to him whimper and watching him tremble when we pull into the vet’s lot
• Forget the cost of treatment, how bad is my bank account hurting from constantly buying him new toys and treats
• Realizing we’re both eating like pigs and he’s losing weight, but I’m not
• Wondering how long it will take before I can talk about it without crying
• Realizing that the funky tasting beef jerky we’re sharing expired two months ago, and I’m the one that should have known better than to eat it anyway
• Dealing with non-dog people who just don’t get it
• When we’re doing stuff together, figuring out how not to think about not being together to do those things anymore –

o like racing to and from the garage to carry in groceries
o pulling out household items from the shopping bags one at a time and letting him sniff them until I “finally” get to, ta-da, a new toy!
o the wrestling match that ensues to keep him from scaring the bejeepers out of the pizza delivery man

• repeatedly poking and prodding him to move so I can get into bed, then appreciating that my spot’s all warmed up
• Facing that I might lose one of my best friends way sooner than I thought

Anti-thanks

2009-11-20T23:08:00.002-05:00

Because life’s been force feeding me a big soggy shit sandwich lately, I’m going to lead up to the holiday with a series of suck lists. Hopefully you’re not dealing with these kind of things so YOU can give extra thanks at my expense.

Things it sucks to have to do with your non-dominant hand (due to surgery on the “good” one – which if it was that good it wouldn’t have needed surgery, now would it???)

• Opening anything – this includes bottles of vicodin, bags of chips, bottles of beer
• Brushing or flossing your teeth
• Anything to do with below-shoulder-length hair
• Tying shoes
• Fastening a bra – or pants
• Trying to hold an umbrella and smoke at the same time - thanks for finally sending some rain this way, beeyotch!
• Turning the ignition of your car - thankfully my current car isn’t a stick shift
• Cutting yourself a piece of chocolate ice-cream cake your BFF was kind enough to contribute to your recovery
• Cleaning – ok, I know that cleaning always sucks but do you know how many square inches of scrubbing you can do before your non-dom arm feels like a rubber band??
• Filling in paper work at the physical therapists office. Seriously people?!
• Folding laundry
• Carrying something into a dark room - no, finding and flipping light switches with my nose is not on my skills list
• Inserting feminine hygiene products - ‘nuff said

Happy Halloweenie!

2009-10-30T21:25:00.003-04:00

I know I've been slacking off again, but we're having a bit of indian summer here and you know I'm a fair weather friend. I'm too lazy to look it up, where did the term indian summer come from anyway? Is it offensive to our native american friends? You know, because I strive to be totally PC.

Back on topic. So, my sister sent me an obnoxious text of a guy with a mask on his lap and his male member sticking out, sort of wiggling around. Happy Halloweenie! it declared. I guffawed. I was going to share it, but then I downloaded an update to my phone Wednesday and the message went poof. Dammit.

I know what you're thinking - it's Friday so Hoodchick's obviously composing one of her drunk posts. You're right of course. But here's the thing - last Friday got a little wild, so tonight I'm sipping some pinot noir, nibbling some cheese and crackers, and catching up on my blog reading. How bad could last Friday have been? Let's just say that Bestie and I should not be allowed to do shots together. Ever. Again. Especially after her birthday party over the summer (hey, your BFF only turns 31 once, right?) Anyway, so last Friday it was amazing enough that we got the hubs to go out, but at some point someone mentioned titty bars. There's still a very heated debate about who that someone was. And someone else (cough cough) was hammered enough to say "I've never been to a titty bar." The rest, as they say, is history. Bestie's lucky, her memory of the night is a lot spottier than mine.

So, with the temperature up in the 80 degree (F) area - Bestie and I took the dogs out for a hike and then I came home to chill. Tomorrow's errand day, then trick-or-treat for the kiddies. I bought a big 120 piece bag of mixed candy bars. Captain Clueless is telling the dog that I better give away the crappy stuff first.
"Like what?" I asked.
"The Almond Joys."
"Hey! I like the Almond Joys."
"Yeah, but you don't need them."

A sudden end to indian summer.

Gimme a beat

2009-10-19T20:01:00.003-04:00

The whole diet thing isn’t working out for me. I just can’t give up the booze and chocolate, and then those bastards at Krispy Kreme have the crack donuts back on the shelves.

So, exercise it is. I’m getting a little tired of the same old music on the iPod and decided to hit iTunes for some new stuff. Looking for upbeat, dance type music that will motivate me to get off my ass. Have you heard the crap passing for music these days? Let’s just take a peek at the top of the charts.

1 – Miley Cyrus. Nuff said.
2 – Fireflies. Lyrics (I kid you not): Cause I get a thousand hugs from ten thousand lightning bugs as they try to teach me how to dance.
This is worse than the shitty music on the hybrid car commercials (you know, with people as the landscape.)
3 – Meet Me Halfway. I dig the Peas, but this is a bit mellow.
4 – 3. No, that’s not a mistake on my numbering. Britney couldn’t come up with a better name or lyrics for that matter.
5 – Whatcha Say. Whatcha say, whatcha say, whatcha say. I say your song sucks.
6 – Down. Ok, slow pathetically sappy rap song. Next…
7 – Replay. No idea what in the hell this guy is saying. Techno Jamaican music maybe?
8 – Paparazzi. I’ve got some GaGa. Even if I didn’t think this song sucked, her performances would have made me hate it. Creeee-py.
9 – I Gotta Feeling. Still not feeling it from this song, and it’s pretty overplayed overplayed overplayed (and repetitive.)
10 – Who Says. Seriously, John Fucking Mayer?

Don’t even get me started on the Top 10 Videos. I get the Justin Bierber shit, because you people give your kids way too much allowance. But have you seen the video for She Wolf? What the fuck? It’s like a horrible half naked mime show or something.

Oh yeah, and if you’re going to redo a song like ‘Should I stay or should I go’, it shouldn’t suck.

Screw it, I’m going to finish off those donuts.

This is sure to get someone's goat

2009-10-18T20:30:00.003-04:00

How long do you think it will take for PETA to get bug up their arse about this?

ANDOVER, Mass.— A Boston suburb has some new landscapers that will work for food _ a half-dozen goats clearing and maintaining an overgrown public meadow.

Under a pilot program in Andover, Lucy McKain's dairy goats will rotate their grazing around the meadow for an all-you-can-eat buffet of grass, brush and other growth. The goats can clear as much as a half acre every three days at no cost.

The fact it's free is important to Andover officials, since money is tight and they couldn't afford the heavy equipment, fuel and labor needed to clean up the meadow. Plus, goat landscaping is environmentally friendly.

If the program is a success, Andover officials want to make more public parkland available to other grazing animals.

And I thought that the geese shit in all the parks close to my house is bad...

Sitting on my ass at the ass doctor

2009-10-12T18:12:00.003-04:00

What could be worse than waiting over an hour for an appointment at the Colon and Rectal Center, Inc? I'll tell you - it'd be worse if it was MY appointment. I was just along for moral support - which for me consists of making butt jokes.

I had to keep a straight face while this was sitting on the edge of the doctor's desk as he was reviewing the medical history:

Of course a nurse walked in and caught me taking that picture. What kind of freak does she think I am! Captain Clueless said he was surprised I didn't pop into the exam room and snap a shot of him getting probed. Jesh, I have some boundaries.

Aren't you glad I'm back?

La la la, la la la la la, la la la, la la la la la

2009-07-01T17:30:00.004-04:00

Why can't I get that damn song outta of my head?

Ok, follow up on the babysitting. Parents, really - on a Friday night DO NOT trick a beer guzzling aunt into babysitting the VERY NEXT MORNING. Especially if she starts out dinner at a place with $2 22oz drafts (which I know draft beer makes me feel like shit the next day but they're only TWO DOLLARS!) and (per your instructions) brings a 12 pack over for a visit. Thankfully Bestie decided she was bored Saturday morning and helped me out. She picked up Mini J and by the time they got to my house I'd recovered enough to sit up without feeling the urge to hurl.

For a 2 year old he was pretty good. When he got too bored from chasing the dog around the house and whining about not being allowed to play by the pool, we took him and the dog down to the bike path and a rocky "beach" area on the river. Bestie tried to show him how to skip rocks so keeping him from hitting the dog was fun. We even managed to keep him from falling in. LMP finished her work and we all headed to Chick-Fil-A to meet for lunch where Mini J transformed into demon spawn.

All three adults spent most of the time trying to bribe, cajole and threaten him into eating at least one chicken nugget. He just kept nibbling on the big waffle style fries. LMP told him to eat or he couldn't go to the play area. So then the little brat gets ME into trouble because he picks up one of those big ass fries with both hands and procedes to stuff the entire thing in his mouth. It was funny. I started snickering and LMP shoots me one of those looks. You know The Mom look. Clearly, she needs to lower her expectations. Of me, not her two year old.

Next up, adventures in potty training and dog introductions (but I'm not promising when!)

Adventures in drunken visits resulting in babysitting

2009-06-12T21:30:00.006-04:00

Somehow I got conned into watching Mini-J tomorrow. A Saturday. Morning. With a two year old. I'm sure that all the 22 oz drafts for $2 BEFORE she sprung the question on me had nothing to do with it.

How many kinds of dumb am I? This is the kid that showed up at the ball park Tuesday night without a having taken a nap all day. We walked up to the concession stand to get suckers & to wear him out. Ha! The only suckers were us. He threw a huge tantrum on the way back and kicked his ball towards the parking lot. Then kicked it again. And a third time, into the lot. Under a car. And went after it. With LMP telling him not to do it all the way. To Bestie I muttered - oh that kid would so get an ass whippin'. LMP retrieved the ball and dragged her progeny back to the diamonds, kicking and screaming the whole way.

Later, when he's in his chair in "time out" there are other kids running around playing. He sniffles.
Mini-J: "I want to go play with him." (everyone is "him" or "her" if Mini-J doesn't know their name.) No response from anyone

Mini-J: "Mommy, I want to go play with him!" Still no response from anyone

Mini-J: "I sorry"

Hoodchick: "That sounded very sincere." about 20 seconds go by

Mini-J: "*sniffle, sniffle* Mommy, I sssorry"

Hoodchick: *snicker*

Mini-J: "It's not funny!"

Hoodchick: "Oh, but it is. What isn't funny is the tantrum you threw earlier."

Mini-J: "Wha-aaaa-aaaa"

What is it about 2 year olds that they have to rely on tears to win a fight?

If he wasn't so darn cute I'd have been able to say NO WAY IN HELL!!!

For those of you busting on my Justin Timberlake love, I leave you this (which is really, really funny if you're up on popular music and in a country that allows you to view this. Seriously, I laughed so hard I farted. Wait a minute, I didn't say that. It was the DOG that farted. Really. Would I lie about something like that?)

Let me share a secret

2009-06-10T21:12:00.003-04:00

I'm a closet Justin fan. I watched his SNL episode and it was the funniest thing I've seen in a long, long time.

If you didn't catch Motherlover you really missed out. But being the kind of friend I am, I included it for those of you that need a good laugh.

Oh yes, and I survived Besties wedding. I'm working on some creative photo editing, but some lazy ass bitches are taking forever to get me copies of their pictures (yeah, I'm talking to you LMP!)

Ass Drag Monday - Bonus Edition

2009-06-01T20:16:00.003-04:00

I took a "staycation" last week. Frugal is the new cool, right? Or whatever the cool word for cool is. Anyway, I haven't had a real vacation in 8 years so I'm like Amelia Earhart. Prince. The Sham Wow! (That would be ahead of my time, you bunch of smart asses.)

Why don't I go on vacation? Because we don't want to kennel the dog. I'm not going into all the reasons and details, but sometimes life with a 120 pound dog (who hates other dogs with the exception of my in-laws Rott) can be a challenge. So the summer before last I decided that if I wasn't going to a place with a beach or pool then By God I was bringing a pool to myself.

Last weeks list of activities went something like this:
Clean pool
Lay by pool
Clean house (only because company was coming and saying "clean house" is really a lie - it was more like clean kitchen, bath and living rooms and shut all the other doors.)
Drink by pool with friends
Lay on float in pool nursing hangover
See a softball game
Drink by pool (alone. Which is NOT a sign of alcoholism because it was by a pool.)
Meet friends for lunch
Float in pool
See a softball game - this one is notable because there was a BEER TRUCK!
Accidentally sleep until 11am
Weed a flower bed
Recuperate by floating in pool with a drink
And repeat

Ok, there were also dog walks most mornings - early because for some reason it was already 80 friggin degrees around here last week.

Needless to say, going back to work this morning sucked. Big time. First I had to get out of bed before the sun came up. Then I had to deal with the *deep, calming breath allowing me to not type a string of swear words here* construction zone traffic.

And when I get to the ~~shit hole~~ place that pays my bills, my friends, (I don't have many, so I use that word very loosely) decided to entertain themselves last week by shrink wrapping my desk. Yes, they even remembered to do the scissors.

My poor brain was in so much shock I forgot to take pictures of it before I started the clean up. The thing that almost sent me over the edge was seeing my poor tube of chapstick mummified by all those layers of plastic. Plaaaastic *just went back into vacation land remembering the smell of the new plastic floats*

ADD Stories, oh boy

2009-05-18T20:34:00.003-04:00

First off, I know I’ve been a major slacker on posting. I’ve been lurking and leaving the occasional comment but not getting any writing down. I’ve had stories, just no method of recording them at the time.

For example, there was a great post titled ‘What a Bitch!’ about a police department that was considering laying off one of its canine cops due to the economy. See, they have two K9’s. The one under consideration for getting the axe is the older, female employee. The younger male would be retained. That bitch needs a lawyer! Sex and age discrimination all in one so they can save a lousy $16,000 per year (estimated upkeep, cause you know they ain’t actually paying her shit! Wait a minute, my dog is a spoiled baby and seems to need something surgical at least every other year and he doesn't cost that much. Obviously someone is scamming these dogs out of their hard earned kibble.) I guess it is a dog-eat-dog world. Hahaha. Maybe we should send them Donn’s recent post, I’m sure they’ll reconsider their choice.

Oh, and then there was the post about the ‘The Depression is Over!’ I’ve gotten two, yes, count ‘em, TWO credit card offers in the mail the past few days. I’m telling you, it’s a sign. By the Fourth of July we’ll all be cruising in shiny Hummers, fishing around in our new Coach bags for once again disdained pennies to toss at hookers. Not that I’ve ever tossed pennies at hookers. Seriously, don’t go telling stories on me.

And the really funny post called ‘Thanks for Making Me Look Like a Big Fat Cow!’ about a recent shopping trip with Captain Clueless. I know the men will take his side, good intentions and all that. But I am never taking that man clothes shopping with me again. Half the shirts he picked out were borderline too tight to start out with. He was getting upset because I wouldn’t buy anything he picked out, so I had to. Does he have an image stuck in his head of me 10 years younger and 20 pounds lighter or what? Has he even looked at me in the last 5 years? We get home and I put one of the shirts so he could see the issue. Mmm, look how it hugs that fat roll. Verrry attractive. I think this shirt needs to go back. And what does he say? IT LOOKS FINE. I kid you not. This man actually would let me leave the house that way. Good thing the economy is picking up so I can afford a divorce lawyer.

I’m not making any promises about posting frequency, but I’ll try to be better. I knew the warm weather would make things tough, but I’m even getting hate mail from the library about my books being overdue. I’m sorry, but they are NOT getting Nuclear Jellyfish back until I squeak out enough time to read it. The good news is that I have lots going on that should provide plenty of entertainment. I have a new critter living in the back yard – the dog hasn’t located and crushed him yet. I bought a new bike to work on the fat roll so maybe I can fit in one of those shirts eventually (hey, a bike was cheaper than an attorney.) Keep in mind that me and coordination have a love/hate relationship. And I'm combining diet pills with Vitamin water which may or may not have anything to do with this whacked out post. Lastly, the wedding is coming up on 6/6/09. That’s the first time I actually paid attention to the date that way. Hmm, six sixty niner! Ok, time to take my inner teenage boy off to fold laundry.

Who says I don't know fashion

2009-05-05T19:46:00.006-04:00

I survived the birthday parties and am almost recovered from the bachelorette party. Whew, what a crazy couple of weeks! The bad news, damn softball leagues start tonight. And all the girls have been ~~bugging~~ texting me to haul my sorry ass out there. 8:45 game time. Don't they understand that I'm a busy person with important things to do. I mean damn, people, Fringe is on tonight.

The colors for the upcoming ~~tragedy~~ nuptials are light blue and dark blue. The bride to be spent a lot of time and money buying costume jewlery for the girls in the wedding (not me, thanks for small favors!) - so they all have this color combination in earrings, bracelets and necklaces.

I dragged Little Miss Perfect out to a *ah-hem* "novelty" store to shop for an appropriate bachelorette offering. I found the most perfect, color coordinated gift EVER!

Glutton

2009-04-26T09:46:00.003-04:00

As a kid, birthdays were not that big of a deal. It probably had to do with the fact that my brother, my sister and myself were born within 8 days of each other (+2 years, + 7 years.) There was also an aunt, uncle and cousin thrown in April just for good measure.

With all that going on, there wasn't a lot of personal attention on your special day. How I managed to marry a guy whose birthday is the day after mine is a mystery. Plus his dad's birthday, and his brother's (40 this year!) all in the latter part of the month.

So mid-April through the end is a never ending whirlwind of dinners, lunches, cakes, cupcakes, ice cream and even donuts. To top all this off, the big bang this year is a bachlorette party Saturday night.

And what follows April? Swim suit season. Arrrgh!

Talk Like Shakespeare Day

2009-04-23T18:46:00.005-04:00

Tis as well thus (or tis it this?)

(Grrr, damn html errors)

I'm off to buy duct tape

2009-04-21T18:49:00.003-04:00

I have about 10 minutes until my husband is going to "force" me to watch a special about Micheal Vick's former dogs. The ones that were able to be adopted. Which is just going to piss me off all over again. I still think he should be put in a cage with one that's been deemed unfit (and therefore will be put to sleep) with nothing but his claws and teeth to defend himself. Bastard.

So on that note, here's another amusing story from the AP:

...23-year-old Frasure was convicted of felony theft in 2008 and recently released from prison.

During the hearing, Frasure made repeated outbursts and ignored the judge's orders to refrain from interrupting the court. The judge then ordered bailiffs to silence Frasure.

The Idaho State Journal reported that bailiffs found a roll of duct tape, tore off a piece and put it over his mouth.

Now that I know this is an acceptable solution I'm going to have to get a holster and quick dispenser for my duct tape.

Natural selection, foiled again

2009-04-20T19:02:00.002-04:00

Our society probably made this thing so fool proof that it was impossible for him to take himself out during this escapade:

Police arrested a 38-year-old man who allegedly stole a forklift on Wednesday morning and hit a street sign and a telephone pole during a slow joyride. The man is due in court next month. Authorities said after the vehicle ran out of gas, the man sought treatment at a local hospital for alcohol and drug intoxication.

He was charged with with possession of a stolen vehicle and theft over $10,000.

Police also said he had no proof of insurance and his driver's license had expired.

A story about something that turned into a rant about something else

2009-04-19T18:42:00.003-04:00

I've been skimming headlines, looking for interesting stories when I'm really supposed to be paying the bills. Going through the mail and bills annoys me to no end. First I have to sort out all the obvious junk, pull off anything with identification to shred (because I'm completely paranoid about identity theft.)

Then I look through all the coupon fliers, and they end up pissing me off. Why are the coupons for families of 8? What are my husband and I supposed to do with an extra large specialty pizza and a medium (but it's only .99!) plus dessert? There's two of us, and we don't manage to finish up a medium pie even with help from the dog. And what the hell would I do with a 15 piece bucket of chicken, I wonder?

Now I get down to sorting letters. How many places are still sending you "free" gifts and a guilt trip? Oh yes, dear ASPCA - I admire what you do. And I'll send you another check as soon as you remove my name from all the other lists you sold me out to. I can't save every creature and I don't want to see any more sad faced polar bears, mountain lions, lemurs or koala's.

One good thing has come out of this shitty economy, there's not a single credit card offer in the whole pile.

Any other positives? My husband's IRA actually made money this past month. AND I have a birthday coming up so most of my favorite stores are sending me $10 gift cards or coupons. I'm not thrilled about the birthday - I've tried to give them up ever since 30 rolled around - but I've got a major shopping jones building up.

Now, where was I? Oh yeah, headlines. I came across this story in my attempts to do anything besides deal with the mail:

Police say a man posing as a waiter collected $186 in cash from diners at two restaurants in New Jersey and walked out with the money in his pocket.

Diners described the bogus waiter as a spikey-haired 20-something wearing a dark blue or black button-down shirt, yellow tie and khaki pants.

Police say he approached two women dining at Hobson's Choice in Hoboken, N.J. around 7:20 p.m. on Thursday. He asked if they needed anything else before paying. They said no and handed him $90 in cash.

About two hours later he approached three women dining at Margherita's Pizza and Cafe. He asked if they were ready to pay, took $96 and never returned with their change.

Wow! This generation gets so much bad press - a bunch of texting, video gaming, whining slackers. This kid has it going on. Initiative, creativity, dressing for success. I just hope he used part of the money to pay the back rent he owed his mom.

Why, why, WHY?

2009-04-16T19:29:00.002-04:00

It's somewhere around 20 hours since I've had a smoke. I haven't killed anyone. Yet. Damn, I shoulda bought some pretzel rods.

Incendiary fruit

2009-04-15T17:31:00.002-04:00

I knew my husband was a picky eater when we got married. In the last 11 years I’ve learned that I really didn't have a clue.

During one of our weekly grocery excursions he asks me about juice. The kind that helps you ‘stay regular.’ I said he was probably thinking of prune juice or something like that. We head down the juice aisle and he starts looking at labels. This is the guy whose entire fruit intake was a daily shot of Sunny Delight when we got married, and he thought he was getting actual vitamins from it. It took me 2 years to switch him from 5% crap to 100% actual orange juice. Sighing, I start looking at prices and...

(slightly out of focus, dreamy replay) Hoodchick’s at the kitchen counter preparing holiday goodies. Captain Clueless walks into the room.

CC: What’s that smell? (makes a face as if he just checked the bottom of his shoe and discovered he stepped in dog shit)

HC: (Sniffing the air) What smell? I don’t smell anything.

CC: You can’t smell that? It’s horrible! Like death.

HC: You’re on crack, there’s no smell. Wait a minute, is this what you’re talking about? (holds strainer full of crushed pineapple near him)

CC: Yes, that’s it! That’s disgusting.

HC: You’ve. Never. Had. Pineapple. Seriously, just get out of my kitchen.

Cut to summertime, Hoodchick’s sitting at the table digging into a slice of watermelon. Enter the scurvy husband.

CC: Eating your watermelon huh.

HC: Mmmm-hmmmm.

CC: What’s it taste like?

HC: (Slightly choking) Are you telling me you’ve never had watermelon?

CC: Huh-uh.

HC: Sigh. (How to explain the taste of watermelon? It’s sweet and juicy and a little slice of heaven on a sweltering day.) Try some.

CC: (Takes bite. Makes face like he’s just bitten into a Sulphur Bertie Bott Jelly Bean, starts searching for a place to spit it out.) Ewww!

(End replay)

I’m the first to admit that I don’t love every fruit ever grown, but I do love me a lotta them. I kind of figured it goes back to the baby stage. Everyone knows the jars of peaches, tutti fruiti, bananas and pears were the best. Spoon up some peas or green beans to a tot and you’d better have an apron on because you’re likely going to get it back. So I’m trying to figure out, what the hell did his mom feed him as a baby? Tiny jars of sausage gravy? Pureed pork chops?

Back to reality and the grocery store. He settles on a bottle of prune juice. The label screams things like "For Digestive Help" and "Extra with fiber." Sure, I could have warned him but really, after the flashbacks I figured he'd taste it and never touch it again.

So, the juice makes it home, gets put in the fridge and forgotten until the other evening. He gets it out and reads the label, “Drink 8oz 4-5 times a week.” He gets a glass and pours some “Is this 8 ounces?” I shrug even though it looks like a lot more to me. (One thing you should know about me, I can’t eyeball measure stuff. Is that board 8 feet or 10 feet long? Don’t ask me. I always use measuring spoons and cups. Tape measures. Odometers. And he KNOWS this, but still asks me shit like this.) So, he drinks. I wait. No yucky face, just a thoughtful “That’s not bad.”

Fast forward to the following evening. I get home from work. Captain Clueless tells me “Well, that stuff works. This morning I got to work and it was like” making faces like he can’t figure out the right word, eventually settles on “explosive.”

Sorry honey, that was sympathetic laughter that exploded from me.

Wii bit of controversy

2009-04-11T10:23:00.002-04:00

Last night we finally found the time to play with the Wii Fit that I had to order on line because the stores still never have them around here.

We started out with the setup. A little background, I am clumsy as hell. I'm always running into things, falling down, and constantly have bruises but no clue where they came from - and this is sober! Another thing, I have a job where I sit on my arse all day and I've been lax about exercising beyond walking the dog. So I figured I was pretty much going to be screwed on this thing.

I went first, and did a surprisingly good job on the balance test. It said my BMI was in normal range (?). Then it gave me my Wii age (which, if you don't know is what everyone is bitching about, google it and you'll get about 123 million results.) Mine was -1 from my real age! Woo-hoo!

Next up, Captain Clueless. His background, he has a somewhat phsyical job and he plays softball in the spring, summer and fall. In the winter they go to an indoor place and hit a couple times a month. Also, we're the same age. Ok, I'm a day older. I know, cradle robber. It came back with his BMI being too high, and plumped his Mii out. His age? (Drumroll) +17! Man was he pissed to be in his 50s.

Then he starts bitching that he's really 6', not the 5'11" that I put in for him (which is horseshit) and that he's in way better shape than me and the thing's a piece of crap, blah, blah, blah.

We did the Yoga and Strength Training sets to start out. Our rankings came out about even (I completely sucked at the tree pose, and tried to cheat on the push-up plank thing.) Regardless, the work out kicked both of our asses. I really expected it to be cheesy, but I was out of breath and today I'm sore. I guess that means it works. The bad thing is you have to use it one at a time. But I hope he sticks with it with me, I think the Yoga moves will help with his bad back.

Chantix update:
Could be worse I guess. I expected to have the dream/nightmare problems but so far none of that. The worse is the naseau (which comes and goes,) gas and bloating. I'm trying to eat smaller meals so the bloating isn't as bad but there have been a couple of days where I could barely button my pants and I felt like I'd explode if someone stuck a pin in my belly. I ate a 6" subway sandwich and a 100 calorie bag of Cheese-its and I felt like I'd just gorged Thanksgiving style.

Damn Monday

2009-04-06T21:24:00.000-04:00

Well my roadrunner is down to top off this crappy Monday. I tried to download a mobile blog
posting app but can't get registered yet. If I was stuck at
The doctor or something this might be cool,but I'm at home so
Using this tiny keyboard sucks. Don't start on me about the capitalization
issues,I haven't figured out cursor placement yet. I hate you Time Warner!!!

Zombies ate my brain

2009-04-03T22:25:00.003-04:00

Not literally but it has felt like it lately. For someone who doesn't have much of a social life, I sure haven't been home a lot. However, my neglect shouldn't continue much longer. I just got my Blackberry Storm. So if I can figure out how to use all the crap on it I will soon be posting on the go - woo hoo. At least now I can read blogs while at work (actually that's a joke, I can barely find time to use the bathroom at work.)

I've officially done more work helping my friend with her wedding preperation than I spent on my own. Which isn't saying much because my mom and sister did most of the work for mine. If it had been up to me we'd have had immediate family and a preacher. But NOOOO they wanted a church wedding so I figured they could damn well deal with it.

About the most interesting thing is that I'm on day 2 of my Chantix prescription. I had it sitting around for a while, but didn't want to start taking it while I was still suffering through the virus from hell. Then I made the mistake of googling Chantix side effects and it scared the crap out of me. Go ahead and check it out, I'll wait.

Am I right? Lawsuits, depression, nightmares - the list goes on and on.

So far I have the nausea and sleeplessness. My doc recommended I wait until being on it for 2 weeks before I quit smoking. So the countdown begins. This should be fun, and I'm totally blaming any craziness that goes on here on the meds.

Flim flammed

2009-03-23T17:43:00.002-04:00

Dear State Farm,

While it is admirable that you proactively adjust my insurance rates, I can't help but wonder if you should instead use the money to include a small packet of lube with my next statement.

I may not be Einstein, but giving me a savings of .25 and then charging me 1.00 service fee for making the policy change does not quite add up. Sure, next month I might save that 25 cents again, but I am onto you. I'm sure in May you will save me some additional negligible amount and charge me yet another $1 for that adjustment. I really don't have the time or energy to call you to fix your fucked up shit. Stop it already.

Sincerely,
Violated in Ohio

Treading on Your Bush Rights

2009-03-20T20:06:00.002-04:00

When you think of New Jersey a few things come to mind. Attitude, accents and big hair. Although I think the southern states (particularly Texas) have been giving NJ a run for the big hair title. I recently read an article that Jersey is considering a ban on Brazilian waxing. It seems that two women were hospitalized for infections after receiving their Brazilians.

Everyone knows that when you remove hair – especially down there – you have a risk of ingrown hairs, rashes, and who knows what else. Any woman that goes in to get her who-ha waxed and expects not to suffer probably deserves what she gets.

The fact that the State Board of Cosmetology is considering a ban, after just 2 complaints seems a little fishy (I know, I said fishy, hahaha!) Can you imagine being in a salon, all spread eagled with those strips pressed against your privates when SWAT bursts in during a raid? How humiliating. If they think the original law suits were bad, wait until a personal injury lawyer gets a hold of this.

Brazilian junkies will be traveling to neighboring states to get their anti-bush fix. Who does that help? Not the New Jersey business owners. Will the police start patrolling the Jersey shore looking for ladies with bikini bottoms that lie just a little too flat?

5 0: “Excuse me ma’am, are you a resident of the state?”

NJ Broad: “What’s it fuckin’ ta ya asshole?”

5 0: “Obviously you are. It’s come to our attention that you may be just a little too smooth down there. We’ll need you to come with us.”

I’m sure this is just the beginning. First, they’ll outlaw bush waxing. Next will come a ban on flat irons. I mean, how many ladies are getting burns that lead to infections from those damn things. Then, do you know how many people have scalp burns from the harsh chemicals in those hair straightening kits? It all sounds like a conspiracy to regain their big hair title.

America, Home of the Malcontent

2009-03-19T13:14:00.002-04:00

I spent some time yesterday doing what the majority of the free world was – filling out my March Madness bracket. I’ll be the first to admit, I’m not really a huge fan of basketball, college or pro. My husband and I always take these first two tournament days off, mostly I spring clean. He’ll be watching the championship run non-stop so I figure I might as well have some fun even if I don’t know much of shit about the teams.

Let me say now that I filled mine out on my own time, at home and on my own computer. I’m not judging those that did theirs on the clock or on their employer’s equipment, just saying that I did not.

I had heard that Barack (hey – I voted for him so I figure that puts us on a first name basis) was going to fill out a bracket on the air on ESPN. I thought this was pretty cool, that we have a president hip enough to care about March Madness and fun enough to share his picks with the rest of us. His picks were bound to piss off some schools which would have been enough to keep a lesser man mum on the subject. Let’s face it though, only one team will win and the rest of them should just suck it up and stop with the whining already. I’m sure his picks weren’t any more personal (or prophetic) than the picks made by the thousands of “sports analysts” that have been going on and on about this for weeks. And it’s not like he threw in an 8 billion dollar bet on the outcome.

Being the keen observer of human nature that I am, I knew it would just be a matter before some curmudgeon put their foot in it. But even I was momentarily stunned when it came from Duke’s own Coach K. As soon as I heard it I knew the shit was going to hit the fan. Sure enough, message boards, blogs, even CNN is abuzz with the fallout from this comment:
"Somebody said that we're not in President Obama's Final Four, and as much as I respect what he's doing, really, the economy is something that he should focus on, probably more than the brackets," Krzyzewski told a reporter from the Associated Press on Wednesday.

What a brilliant insight. I’m sure that President Obama should be focused 24/7 on fixing all the fucked up problems in the US. Maybe he should budget a few grand for Depends so he doesn’t have to bother with pesky bathroom breaks. And he can be hooked up to some of those nutrition bags that deliver all your dietary needs intravenously so he won’t need time to eat. I mean, how dare he take a moment to do something frivolous that might give himself and some others 5 minutes of enjoyment.

This same thing happens in the work place. We recently had a bowling tournament between departments. At lunch time the groups went to the local alley and bowled against each other. It was fun. It was good for morale. But of course we had people who sat in their cubicles with their mouths screwed up so tight they looked like puckered assholes, saying things like “I can’t believe everyone is wasting their time bowling. There so much work that needs to be done.” I’m sorry, but you’re not so important that the entire company will implode if you’re not there for an hour and half. Hell, you don’t bother to drag your sorry ass into the office until 9:30 every day. We’re all salary. And we all bust our humps a hell of a lot more than 40 hours a week. We don’t need your stick-in-the-ass attitude. And we don’t need Coach K’s either.

Exactly what is Coach K doing to help this country? He’s an educated, wealthy man. But his entire life’s work is around coaching a FUCKING GAME. Maybe he should wake the fuck up and get a real job that actually does something to lift the US out of the giant shit hole it’s immersed in. Otherwise he should just shut his pie hole and keep enjoying his millions while the rest of us hard working Americans get ulcers about job security, crappy medical care and disappearing retirement funds. And hope we might win $50 on the outcome, because that $50 might mean we can buy groceries or diapers or medicine.

Sneaky bitch

2009-03-17T18:12:00.005-04:00

I spent last week hibernating with a relapse of the zombie virus. It was cold out, so I didn't think I missed much. Then yesterday I discovered that while I was dead to the world Mother Nature went and sprung this on me.

Daffy's by my porch

Buds on a tree with a robin

Mmmm. I grilled hamburgers today. I've moved straight from fevered to spring fevered!

Camping girl style

2009-03-15T12:09:00.011-04:00

I'm finally posting the pics from last weekend. There was supposed to be a bigger group, but just three of us ended up staying Friday night and then only two on Saturday. We were staying by a lake outside of Wilmington, OH. For those of you that haven't heard, Wilmington is the little town that USED to have a big DHL center. DHL closed and now the unemployment rate in the area is just sad.

Here's the "cabin" that we stayed in. The weather was great, we got unseasonably warm temps in the 70's.

Here's the hot tub. Behind it you can see there's not much but trees. It wasn't really that secluded, there were houses close by in the other direction.

We had stopped at a Papa Murphy's and waited 25 minutes for a pizza (if you're not familiar, they make up your pizza and you take it home and bake it.) But when we got to the cabin there was NO OVEN. There was a convection oven, but the pizza was too big to fit in it. So we headed back into "town" to buy a cooked pizza and some other supplies.

This was a bar on the main drag through town. We never did find out exactly what this sign meant. Neither did we get to display our own dancing skills which surely would have gotten us run out of town.

None of my deer pictures came out very well, they blended in with the brown grass and brush so that you could barely make them out. But they were all over the place. We had pizza, brownies and wine and started a fire in the outdoor pit when a pair of glowing eyes came out of the woods and crashed the party. If you look close, you can see one of the eyes.

I didn't really think a possum or coon would come nosing that close to the fire and three gabbing women. I cleaned up the photo and you can make out that it's a little calico cat.

We put some pizza toppings out and she eventually warmed up to us and hung around on the deck while we hit the hot tub. (We assumed it was a she. We weren't rude enough to try to check out the goods.)

I know you're disappointed, but you're not getting a peek at any of the druken chicks in a hot tub photos. I did find it funny that when I got home I had received this joke from my mom (and no, we weren't naked:)
Three Ladies in a Sauna

THREE WOMEN, TWO YOUNGER, AND ONE SENIOR CITIZEN, WERE SITTING NAKED IN A SAUNA.

SUDDENLY THERE WAS A BEEPING SOUND. THE YOUNG WOMAN PRESSED HER FOREARM AND THE BEEP STOPPED.

THE OTHERS LOOKED AT HER QUESTIONINGLY. 'THAT WAS MY PAGER,' SHE SAID. I HAVE A MICROCHIP UNDER THE SKIN OF MY ARM.

A FEW MINUTES LATER, A PHONE RANG. THE SECOND YOUNG WOMAN LIFTED HER PALM TO HER EAR.

WHEN SHE FINISHED, SHE EXPLAINED, 'THAT WAS MY MOBILE PHONE. I HAVE A MICROCHIP IN MY HAND.'
THE OLDER WOMAN FELT VERY LOW -TECH. NOT TO BE OUT DONE, SHE DECIDED SHE HAD TO DO SOMETHING JUST AS IMPRESSIVE. SHE STEPPED OUT OF THE SAUNA AND WENT TO THE BATHROOM.

SHE RETURNED WITH A PIECE OF TOILET PAPER HANGING FROM HER REAR END.

THE OTHERS RAISED THEIR EYEBROWS AND STARED AT HER.

THE OLDER WOMAN FINALLY SAID.........WELL, WILL YOU LOOK AT THAT....I'M GETTING A FAX!!

Despite LMP's fears, we survived the night, no axe murderers snuck in to hack us up in our passed out states. It could be that the cat was still keeping guard even though I caught her sleeping on the job when I got up in the morning.

And since we took Chasers with all the wine so we didn't feel like total hammered shit, we hiked over to the lake in the morning and enjoyed the nice weather.

We had a blast, and Bev got plenty of good blackmail pictures of the Besties. Now it's cold again and I haven't been out of my house all weekend.

Alternate endings, Take 1

2009-03-11T18:29:00.001-04:00

Random conversation in the Clueless household

Captain Clueless: “You know those idiots that stole all that copper wiring from AT&T for five week’s in a row?”

Hoodchick: “Yes, I remember those dumbasses on the news. Like no one would notice and set up a sting.”

CC: “Well one of them plays for X.” (X substituted in place of the actual softball team name.)

HC: “No shit.”

CC: “Yeah, you know the blond guy that plays short stop?”

HC: “Not sure.”

CC: “You know, short, young blond guy. Plays short stop.”

HC: “I have no idea.”

At this point, a normal person would say something like, “Oh, well, you’d know him if you saw him.” Nooo.

CC: “YOU KNOW. THE SHORT. YOUNG. BLOND. GUY.”

Ending number 1 (which may happen depending on the cycle of the moon, how big of a dick CC’s been that day, or any other random female stereotype :)

HC: “What the fuck man. I said I don’t know who you’re talking about. Just repeating short, young and blond isn’t doing anything for me. You think I can remember all of these assholes you play ball with? Besides, that’s one of your frenemy teams and you hardly ever play them. If you said “You know the guy that always wears his shirts too small so his fat, disgusting, stretch marked gunt (btw, thanks for that word FADKOG!) hangs out for all to see?” Or “You know the guy that walks like he has a corn cob stuck up his ass?” Or even, “The 6’5” guy that weighs about 110lbs and has teeth like a meth-head?” These would be memorable traits. Otherwise, all those dicks are wearing matching hats, shirts and pants. You know, uniforms. They all fucking look alike to me. So what’s the fucking point here?”

CC: “You. are. such. a. fucking. bitch.” *silent treatment for the rest of the night*

Ending number 2:

HC: “Oh yeah, the short blond guy.” (eye-roll)

CC: “Yeah (chuckle,) what a fuck-tard” *and all is right in the world*

When your kids start asking you complex questions about when it’s ok to lie, feel free to use this as an example.

What the hell are YOU looking at?

2009-03-10T19:04:00.002-04:00

I don't know about you, but I'm fascinated by stories where animals are fighting back. What amazes me is how humans are just cluelessly going about their lives and thinking that animals are, well, dumb animals despite all evidence to the contrary.

I used to have a cat that would get annoyed if you wouldn't let him outside. He would get on the fireplace mantle and calmly scoot a knick knack over to the edge. And stare at you. If you didn't get up and let him out, he'd take a paw and calmly push it off. Then he'd start on another one. Scoot. Scoot, scoot. Stare. Scoot. Crash. Stare. Scoot. Scoot, scoot.

Obviously this took some amount of thought on his part. Even if I hated dusting all of that crap my mom kept around it was more of a pain to sweep up the mess. I don't think he was being spiteful, just that it was a way to get what he wanted. Which was a shot at all of the neighborhood lady cats. He didn't have to have grand plans to be a thinker.

You'll notice in the story below that they claim the chimps behavior is anti-social. By whose standards? If you were wrongfully jailed, no matter how nice the cell, would you not plot some revenge on your jailers and the looky-loos?

Stolen from the AP:
"A canny chimpanzee who calmly collected a stash of rocks and then hurled them at zoo visitors in fits of rage has confirmed that apes can plan ahead just like humans, a Swedish study said Monday. Santino the chimpanzee's anti-social behavior stunned both visitors and keepers at the Furuvik Zoo but fascinated researchers because it was so carefully prepared.

According to a report in the journal Current Biology, the 31-year-old alpha male started building his weapons cache in the morning before the zoo opened, collecting rocks and knocking out disks from concrete boulders inside his enclosure. He waited until around midday before he unleashed a "hailstorm" of rocks against visitors, the study said."

Just wait until he gets his opposable thumbs on some plutonium.

Porn in a small town

2009-03-06T10:00:00.003-05:00

I was watching the news last night, and they were doing a story in a local small town about the increase in car thefts. On screen was the local 5-0 asking residents to stop leaving their keys in the car and start locking their doors.

In the background I could see a shot of downtown. And just over the officer's shoulder, a movie marquee. (Remember when there were movie theaters downtown? Before the huge multi-plexes took over?) What was showing?
Push
That Into You

I think they've got bigger problems than car thieves.

For those of you wondering what the deal is with an early, sober, Friday post - some of us girls are heading for a mini get-away. We've got lots of booze, cards, a hot tub and a gas fireplace. Alas, no wifi. But I will have my camera, because that's the bitchy kind of friend I am.

On Wednesday, while LMP and I were leaving a bar (yes, after the wine tasting) a guy stopped me. Whatever he said was lost in the band music so I classily yelled "Huh?"
"Is your name Bev?" he asked.
"Uh, no." I replied.
"Oh. Ok. Sorry." he said.
As we walked away I heard LMP pipe up "Bitch, you so know your name is Bev!"

All I know is Bev is going to the retreat this weekend and she's totally getting revenge on Little Miss Perfect.

What the hell was I thinking

2009-03-04T21:51:00.002-05:00

It's Wednesday. I went wine tasting with Little Miss Perfect and a friend yet to be nicknamed. We're taking a girl's retreat this weekend in a cabin so I'm sure to come up with a good one for her after this excursion. Oh, and I now have an alter ego, Bev. More on that later.

Man am I going to feel like shit at work tomorrow.

All aboard

2009-03-02T19:26:00.003-05:00

I spend a lot of time making fun of reality TV, but I do watch some. And last night I couldn’t resist watching Celebrity Apprentice. With the people they had on, it was bound to be a train wreck. I wasn’t disappointed.

Let me just say that I had stopped watching this show after the second go-round, mostly because the “winners” were total asshats and the people who should’ve won had all been axed for stupid shit.

They put the celebrities in teams of men versus women and the first “project” was making and selling cupcakes for charity. (BTW - at some point in my teen/early twenty years I was amused by Dice Clay. I don’t know why, my only excuse is that I was young and dumb. If anyone wonders if he’s really like that, or if it’s just his shtick, wonder no more. He’s a complete pig.)

In short, the men’s cupcakes tasted like ass (according to Jesse James) and the women won because, well, their cupcakes didn’t taste like ass.

The thing that really got me was Dennis Rodman. What he was saying about there being a lack of leadership made sense. None of these people are project managers, and that’s why the show ends up being a complete cluster fuck. I should know, this is what I do (manage projects, not fuck clusters.) At no point do you see them actually sit down, write out all of the tasks and then assign people to them. Then all the PM has to do is make sure each of those people is doing what they were assigned.

Sounds simple, right? It’s not. Because in the real world you end up stuck with people like Dice Clay – who refuse to do what they’re supposed to and go off to do their own thing. And Annie the poker lady/cupcake nazi who was worried about how much money she personally could raise to the point of nearly blowing a $9,000 sale. Thank goodness the bosomed bunny was there to keep the buyers interested.

Instead of stepping up though, Dennis just disengaged and pouted like a 2 year old. If I had been in charge, I would have hooked my pinkie through his lip ring, yanked him down to eye level and told him to get his ass out there hustling cupcakes or him and his worthless scarf could go back to the suite.

I doubt I’ll watch another episode because it’s going to be pretty much the same exact shit every week. But I did learn a couple of things. First, I should make everybody on my projects get a lip ring. Second, I need a playboy bunny to smooth things over when I go all psycho-screaming-bitch on somebody’s ass.

Bitchy or funny, you decide

2009-02-27T20:21:00.005-05:00

I am alive. Barely. At a time when I'm sporting the latest virus I also have 3 new projects dumped on me so have been working crazy hours. By the time I got home and scrounged up some grub, I just wanted to relax. And what happens, fucking phone rings off the hook.

I'm known to enter the random contest or two, so this is the strategy I've started using when charities, sales people, or (wtf?) survey takers call and invade my peace and quiet.

Hoodchick: "Hello"

Annoying caller: "Hi, is Mrs. Hoodchick home?"

Hoodchick: "Why, did I win something?"

AC: "Uhh. Umm. No, but..."

Hoodchick: "If you're not calling to tell me I've won something, then I'm not interested."

AC: (usually with a nervous chuckle) "Well, I'm calling about..."

Hoodchick (interrupting) "Seriously. I'm. not. interested." click

Captain Clueless can't believe I do this. He thinks it's totally bitchy. But he's the guy that picks up and immediately disconnects when a call is from an unknown number. And they just call back later.

Now I'm off to mix beer with antibiotics, and catch up on my blog reading (it's ok, it's lite beer.)

Ass Drag Monday

2009-02-23T19:09:00.003-05:00

It's that day again. I spent most of Saturday hoping I had a hangover. Around 4pm I gave in - I'm sick. I seem to have caught some freaky nauseous, sneezy, coughy crud that has been going around. Which reminded me of an ongoing debate about "The Sleeve."

I don't know about you, but at times when I sneeze and cough - especially if I'm sick - there tends to be some kind of "mucal output." Somehow, without training, I manage to carry around enough tissues to use & discard and hand sanitizer if I just have to be out and about. If meeting someone new, I explain and refrain from shaking hands. But I guess that I am a germ spreader, uncouth and unhip.

The next time you're in line at the buffet, be sure to look for these über hygienic people. Shake their germ free hand. And hope none of that flaky, dried up snot fell off of their sleeve into your entree.

Reality bites

2009-02-20T18:47:00.005-05:00

There are a lot of people out there who love reality TV, and a lot that hate it. And probably even more that say they hate it but are actually sneaking it like a compulsive eater with their ho-ho stash.

However you feel (or say you feel) about reality TV, there are worse things out there. If you haven't discovered the late night adult oriented cartoons, you are missing out. For your viewing pleasure, my all time favorite Robot Chicken episode.

Hilarious (and wrong) on so many levels.

I am now going back to nursing my headache with loads of booze.

Rules for Life

2009-02-19T18:40:00.003-05:00

Jeanne sent out a challenge to her readers to come up with 10 rules for life. Of course I can't do anything normally so (I did some rounding here) I figured I'm about 70% of Jeanne's age so I must only have learned 7 rules worth passing on.

1. Husbands do not find it attractive to catch you mopping up under the boob sweat with the T-shirt you just stripped off after a work out. So be prepared by keeping an eye on the door at all times, ready to fling it into the hamper in a really slick basket shot.

2. Glazed pumpkin spice Krispy Kreme’s do not count towards your daily fruit intake. But boy are they gooo-oood.

3. People who drive 5 or even 10 miles an hour below the speed limit on a dry, flat, straight road are probably: very intelligent, had parents who were married when they were conceived and are physically unable to do the things I suggest. But it keeps me from making rude hand gestures which can get you into a heap of trouble in today’s world.

4. If your kid has to go to the dentist to get a cavity filled, DO NOT let them administer the “goofy gas.” It is more addictive than crack. Your kids will start sneaking sugar covered gummi bears before they lay down to dream of their next fix.

5. Things that really annoy you are probably things you’re guilty of. Like when I am researching a product and there are no reviews, it pisses me off. And yet I’ve never posted a product review. I tried once, but the word verification kicked my ass so I took that as a sign.

6. You can’t change people who are mean, petty, jealous or bigoted. You may have to be acquainted with people like this, but never, ever, mistake them for your friend.

7. Confiscate all cameras and phones before taking a bong hit. Sure, you’re not famous now but if you become famous I hope you will thank me for this tip by sliding me some cash. And I’ll keep the photo to myself.

P.S. I know the link is wonky, but there is something broken when I try to go directly to that day's post. You will have to scroll down to find it. Don't sprain anything.

The new rage

2009-02-16T17:49:00.001-05:00

(Note: I am in denial that last week ever happened. With a phone outage, high winds, power blips, internet outage, torn up siding and shingles and a non-booting computer, trust me, it’s for the best.)

Sunday I asked Captain Clueless to take the dog out for a walk while I cleaned up land mines in the back yard. They returned through the back yard because they had a lot of mud to clean off. He asks me a question as I’m busy scooping. I respond. He loudly says “I CAN’T HEAR YOU!”

I look at him, and sure enough he still has his ear buds in. “Can you hear this?” I asked, as I flipped him the bird.

A few minutes later he asks me something else, and I look at him. He still has the damn things in. There is no way he could hear my response unless I screamed it. I started ranting (to myself because he obviously wasn’t going to hear me) about how rude that is and if he can’t at least take those things out of his ears I am not even bothering to try to talk to him, etc. I go back to my chore and he says “I CAN READ YOUR LIPS YOU KNOW, IT’S NOT NICE OF YOU TO CALL ME A COCK SUCKER!”

I say it was completely justified.

A letter to the phone company

2009-02-10T19:30:00.003-05:00

Dear Cincinnati Bell,

Normally we text each other but for some reason I decided to call my husband today to discuss dinner since I was very late leaving work. Imagine my surprise when I called home and got voice mail.

Being that I never recorded an answering machine greeting, it's a strange male-like voice that should have answered. Once I received a female greeting, I knew something was up. I've never used your voice mail service, and honestly have no idea how to even retrieve messages from it.

I suppose I should call you and complain about my phone being out, since I am paying you fuckers after all. It has been strangely peaceful the last few evenings, with no one calling me to ask for money that I don't have to give. Maybe I don't need a land line after all, thanks for the great service!

Ass Grab Monday

2009-02-09T21:11:00.004-05:00

Ha! I know what you were expecting, with it being Monday and all. So what's up with the ass grabbing in place of dragging? What might be contributing to my cheery mood? (and no I'm not drunk!)

After 4 weeks of being laid off, Captain Clueless went back to work today. Which is good because with the medical and dental bills I've had to cut back on my spending addictions - and I'm really having a sweater jones.

He sent me a text around 9am that said "This sucks!"
I responded "So does welfare!"

For some reason I didn't hear back from him.

We're having a wonderful heat wave - 50's. I was able to wear clothes that don't make me look like a marshmellow, and my favorite light weight leather jacket. I may have a touch of spring fever, although I know it's going to get cold again. A co-worker IM'd me that it was 71 where she lives and I managed not to call her a nasty name. Out loud.

President Obama ended his speech by 9:00 so it didn't screw up Heros or Medium. I voted for the guy, I don't actually have to listen to him, right?

I laughed, and maybe even snorted a little over the pictures of Ponita's horse, Thunder, in giant underpants that I was trying to win.

Hey, February in Ohio pretty much sucks so you have to appreciate the little things.

It's raining cats & dogs

2009-02-06T22:23:00.004-05:00

Ok, so not yet. But the forecast around here is for freakishly high temperatures and rain. Which plays havoc with my migraines so I will be highly self medicated all weekend. This should be fun! Although I'm thinking my doc needs to up my standing darvoset prescription to something stronger.

Now, in honor of Marinka, who has been bragging about her perfect pussy, here's a story that makes me laugh no matter how many times I read it.

The dog vs. the cat
DOG DIARY
8:00 am - Dog food! My favorite thing!
9:30 am - A car ride! My favorite thing!
9:40 am - A walk in the park! My favorite thing!
10:30 am - Got rubbed and petted! My favorite thing!
12:00 pm - Lunch! My favorite thing!
1:00 pm - Played in the yard! My favorite thing!
3:00 pm - Wagged my tail! My favorite thing!
5:00 pm - Milk bones! My favorite thing!
7:00 pm - Got to play ball! My favorite thing!
8:00 pm - Wow! Watched TV with my people! My favorite thing!
11:00 pm - Sleeping on the bed! My favorite thing!

CAT DIARY
Day 983 of my captivity. My captors continue to taunt me with bizarre little dangling objects. They dine lavishly on fresh meat, while the other inmates and I are fed hash or some sort of dry nuggets.

Although I make my contempt for the rations perfectly clear, I nevertheless must eat something in order to keep up my strength. The only thing that keeps me going is my dream of escape. In an attempt to disgust them, I once again vomit on the carpet.

Today I decapitated a mouse and dropped its headless body at their feet. I had hoped this would strike fear into their hearts, since it clearly demonstrates what I am capable of. However, they merely made condescending comments about what a 'good little hunter I am. Bastards!

There was some sort of assembly of their accomplices tonight. I was placed in solitary confinement for the duration of the event. However, I could hear the noises and smell the food. I overheard that my confinement was due to the power of 'allergies.' I must learn what this means and how to use it to my advantage.

Today I was almost successful in an attempt to assassinate one of my tormentors by weaving around his feet as he was walking. I must try this again tomorrow -- but at the top of the stairs.

I am convinced that the other prisoners here are flunkies and snitches. The dog receives special privileges. He is regularly released - and seems to be more than willing to return. He is obviously retarded.

The bird has got to be an informant. I observe him communicate with the guards regularly. I am certain that he reports my every move. My captors have arranged protective custody for him in an elevated cell, so He is safe. For now.....

Gray skies are going to clear up...

2009-02-05T17:31:00.004-05:00

I'm trying so damn hard to be in a good mood, but the world is conspiring against me.

Yesterday I woke up and thought, yes! I only have 7 more days with these temps on my teeth, I have a hair appointment tonight, and AND Plum Spooky finally came in. I was only 169th on the reservation list at the library. Patience is not my forte. If it hadn't been one of the risky 'between the numbers' books I would have bought it last year instead of waiting.

This is what happened.

Wednesday we had a team vs. team lunch-n-bowl scheduled. I’m not much of a bowler, except on the Wii. I felt bad because only 3 of my other team mates showed up, so I actually gave it a try. I rolled a fucking 50 something. My team lost by about 19 pins. The bad part was, as I was carefully tearing apart and eating my chicken fingers (gotta love bowling alley food) somehow I tore loose one side of my temps. I quickly pressed it back on. So far it’s held, but I’m thinking I might not make it until next Wednesday without some repair work. (I didn’t feel bad about my score. Really, I warned them about my lack of skill.)

So, I left work to head to the salon. The disaster area they call I-75 was its usual mess, and I was afraid I’d be late. I finally got through the jam and was flying along thinking, at least I didn’t run anyone over. But if I do, I’m following this example:
Published - Jan 17 2009 06:53AM EST AP
An elderly woman in Palm Beach County crashed with her vehicle into a man on a scooter and then kept driving to make her hair appointment, police said.
Louise Davidson, 77, was arrested Thursday for leaving the scene of an injury crash, Boynton Beach police said.
Police spokeswoman Stephanie Slater said the woman was turning right when she veered into the path of the oncoming scooter that had the right of way. The man was thrown by the impact onto the windshield and then fell to the road, she added.
Police said they later spotted the woman's car after she had her hair appointment.
Authorities said the man suffered abrasions all over his body but the injuries were not believed to be life threatening.

Do not get between a woman with gray growing out and her hair appointment. This is a lesson to all you men out there – hair crises trump abrasions.

I decide to change a few things, which will require some awkward growing out. Looked fine when she styled it, even if the bangs are a bit shorter than I like. I go to style it this morning and I can’t do shit with it. We’ll see if I make it to the new style without taking scissors to it.

At lunch I stop in Walmart to get the only yogurt I actually like (which the bastards at Kroger stopped selling.) Guess what. No. fucking. yogurt. I consoled myself with a box of Ghirardelli dark chocolate mint creams. That sounds like I ate the whole box, but I didn’t. Even if I wanted to.

Back at my desk, trying to enjoy my chocolate buzz and Captain Clueless calls. It seems he took our 120+ lb (hey, it’s his winter weight) dog out for a walk. CC wanted to tell me, in case there are police at the house when I get home, that someone’s poodle attacked our dog. My big sweetie doesn’t like strange dogs, because he was bitten by a loose dog.
I asked if there was blood.
“No.”
Serious injuries?
“Couldn’t tell. He had it pinned to the ground by the throat.”
Did it happen in their yard?
“No, on the street. It didn’t have a leash, just ran out from under a porch at us.”
I told him where the non-expired dog license was, just in case. But I’m thinking it’s the poor little shit’s owners fault.

And of course, there was a wreck on the I-75 parking lot so it took me 3 times the usual to finally get home.

So my question is, if I snarf the rest of that box of chocolate while using the elliptical and reading my book do any of the calories count?

It's an epidemic

2009-02-03T19:47:00.005-05:00

Yesterday was so ass drag that I didn't even make it to the computer to manage writing anything. Today I was going to have some discussion along the likes of - wtf is 'pre' about premenstrual syndrome, I'm this bitchy at least 3 days in.

Before writing my witty post I caught up on some of my reading only to discover that it's an epidemic. I knew that women who lived together or work closely together get in the same cycle, but I had no idea this was happening in blog circles. Scarlet's got hygiene products, MJs teasing a post for later. The men are wearing red bow ties. Some of the gals are super bitchy but aren't fessing up to aunt flow being in town (you know who you are.) It all must mean something. I'm sure I could figure it out, but I need to go eat more chocolate.

Speaking of shit...

2009-01-31T16:16:00.003-05:00

Jeanne tagged me with this meme, but I’m a tad bit behind in my reading so I got it and then had to come up with some shit, um trivia, about myself. I'm not my favorite topic, but here goes:

1 – I lived with a guy who was a compulsive liar. I’m really independent, but it got so bad I moved back in with my parents (which I swore I would NEVER do.) Moving my things into their house, I broke down in tears of relief, to be away from that psycho and to realize that my parents really would take me back, no matter what shit my mom said when I was a teenager.

2 – I was in the choir in school. But I can’t sing at all. I actually got cut off singing karaoke. I tell people it was because the bar was closing.

3 – I took my drivers test the same morning that we left for a cross country trip to visit my great-aunt in Oregon. My dad made me drive through Chicago that night, I still haven’t forgiven him.

4 – My husband of 11 years and I knew each other for 5 months when we got married. And yet none of those betting bastards have paid me a dime.

5 – I was one of only 2 seniors in my high school graduating class that actually took the offered second year of computer programming.

6 – My paternal grandparents divorced when that was a no-no. Actually this is two things. My grandmother left him and the 5 kids and ended up doing time in Marysville’s women’s prison for child abandonment.

7 – Then my grandpa and she said whoever outlived the other was pissing on the dead one’s grave. Grandma was riddled with cancer and had no idea who or where she was. Grandpa died in the night about two months before her. She had no clue. So no one’s grave got pissed on. As bonus trivia – she lived in Denver so I really only saw her maybe 5 times in my life. If I’d been to her grave the one time I was in Denver I might have pissed on her grave for Grandpa Francis.
8 – I think my mom used to ruin my clothes in the laundry so I’d do my own. For cripes sake, she was a stay at home mom on top of it and I was 12 when this started. Eventually my little sister (7 years younger) would want me to wash her stuff. She wouldn’t turn anything right side out. So it got washed, dried and returned that way. Hey, at least I didn’t shrink or bleach her shit.

9 – My maternal great-grandparents lived next to a pig farm. In the typical little-girl way, I was fascinated with animals. But all of my second cousins would tell me to stay away from the fence, that the pigs bite. I’m still a little wary of pigs, but I love me some bacon.

Ok, you didn’t designate a number and I think that’s enough over sharing for now. I'm not tagging anyone (yet) not because I don't want to but because I'm short on time.

Men and their shit

2009-01-30T19:41:00.003-05:00

I hope I’m not the only one that has this complaint. Actually, I know I can’t be because I spend a lot of time at the softball fields with Captain Clueless’ family and friends and I know it becomes a weird competition between the guys because I’ve heard them going through different phrases and laughing. What is it about men that they need to announce their need to take a shit, and the euphemisms they have for it? Honestly, I manage to do “number two” without having to tell everyone where I’m going and what I intend on doing. I really don’t need to know that’s where you’re going. Hell, I probably won’t even notice you’re gone for at least 30 minutes.

If you don’t want to admit it, I’m calling bullshit. Here’s the most frequent list that I am subjected to. Feel free to add the ones you have to deal with.

Taking the kiddies to the pool
Putting a roof on a log cabin
I gotta drop a deuce
I'm taking the browns to the super bowl
I gotta take a(n) (insert name here) and wipe my (insert another name here)

Oh, and when you’re done, I do not need to know that you’re 5 pounds lighter.

Do Mom proud!

2009-01-27T19:26:00.004-05:00

I don’t think Jeanne has mentioned this in her stories yet, but she has a thing for dive restaurants. Sometimes these culinary adventures lead us to a great little place with good food if strange atmospheres. Mom’s Gatehouse was not one of those gems. As we drove along, the neighborhood got a little scarier with each passing block. The businesses all had bars on the windows. There was an air of neglect to the properties and the pedestrians all had a run down demeanor. But we decided to stick it out and made our way safely from the car into Mom’s.

The waitress did her best, but I think that our party of four in addition to what little ‘usual’ lunch crowd they had was too much for her. I’m not going to go into all the details of the experience, because that’s not where this story is going. Let’s just say we never had a hankering for Mom’s cooking again.

Tonight I was half listening to the evening news, and they were showing tape of a robbery in progress at – you guessed it – Mom’s! There didn’t appear to be any customers in the dining area. This white guy in a Green Bay Packers coat was dragging the employee to the register to get money and then ran off. If I were going to rob a business, I think I would select a location that actually might have had some paying customers.

The news story switches to a shot of the police dragging a white-trash-male from the back of a cruiser. I would remark on his teeth, or lack of, but right now I’m not judging anybody’s grill. He’s yelling things to the camera, but his whole attitude seems to have a surreal, almost jovial manner to it. His rant went something like this “Hey Bro! Just because I’m a white guy with a tan coat means I robbed Mom’s? I didn’t rob nothing, I was home drinking a fucking bottle of Bacardi!” The reporter said the police suspect he used the booty from the robbery to buy said bottle of Bacardi. I mean, a pint only costs like $7 so I guess it’s possible that he could have gotten that much. They also suspect he robbed a convenience store earlier while wearing a tan coat.

So where did my curious little mind go after hearing all of this? How did he know there was a tan coat involved? Was I witnessing in real life one of those brilliant police tricks where the suspect admits to something he could have no way of knowing? Does being too drunk on rum really qualify as an acceptable excuse/alibi? And if so, can I take back all the apologies I ever had to make the morning after a rum drunk? Will all of this publicity turn things around and make Mom’s the next hot spot? Will we then be able to brag that we knew about Mom’s for years and all these new customers are just posers and treat them as such?

Yep, I bet there’s a proud Mom out there somewhere, but it’s probably not his.

Ass Drag Monday

2009-01-26T18:42:00.010-05:00

Yeah, it’s my favorite day again! You can’t hear the sarcasm, but believe me, it’s there. With the fish fry to setup for, work at, and the hangover to deal with, I’m just starting to feel human again. I'll try to write something not worthless later in the week, but you know the drivel you get on Monday so you really can't complain.

Tuesday – the doctor called about the MRI results on my knee. No torn ligaments or cartilage damage showed on it. “Gee, why does it still hurt so damn much?” I asked. I mean, he is a doctor, right? Guess what, he doesn’t know. That’s it. Buh-bye.

Wednesday – we’re not reliving that shit again.

Thursday – Weee! That was jello shot making night. This is what 746 jello shots look like (side note, it was supposed to be 750. How much money do you think those bastards at GFS are pocketing by shorting each pack by 1 cup??) And don’t try to call me out on the math. One cup had a hole and had to go in the trash (after the jello I put in it went straight out the bottom and all over the freaking place.) Where was I, besides killing you with punctuation? Oh yes, I tried to take a picture of my aching back when we were done, but it just didn’t come across.

Mini-J and Miss Abby decided to setup some chairs and have a movie night while moms, aunt and friends labored away in the kitchen.

Miss Abby’s new baby sister.

Friday – I had a couple of cocktails and bitched to all of you about my Wednesday. Taking advantage of my impaired judgment, Captain Clueless tricked me into showing him ‘the blog.’ He thought some of it was funny, didn’t get some of it, and strongly objected to the Captain Clueless nickname. He would, because he’s, well, clueless. Seriously, after checking out a few posts he went into the living room and cranked up an Asia song on the TV. At no point in my lifetime did I ever like Asia. And if he had a clue he would know how much they suck. If you’re an Asia fan and feel like bitching about this, don’t bother. You have no cred with me.

Saturday – The big night. Somehow I missed getting a pic of Jeanne slurping a jello shot. She must have sucked them down while I was occupied elsewhere. Don't blame me, she's sneaky like that.

This is Eric. His table won the most-bloated-from-jello prize before the 2 for 1 fire sale.

Now, would someone please tell me why I have an irrational fear that this poor little duckling is going to drown if he falls in here?

Is it wrong to take a hit out on my dentist?

2009-01-23T20:19:00.004-05:00

I’ve been dealing with the whole broken tooth thing. The “temporary” they put on it is small, so it looks a bit odd (Captain Clueless calls me baby tooth) – but my dentist was being cautious and didn’t want me to break off more of the remaining tooth until he got it all fixed up. While I was dealing with this, I figured I might as well get my other 3 veneers replaced. They are supposed to last 8 to 10 years, mine were pushing 20. (If you don’t know what a veneer is read here. I fall in the ‘small gap tooth’ category.)

I went to the dentist at 7 fucking a.m. expecting to get my permanent crown on my “baby tooth” and I expected a chemical/tool combo of some sort to get rid of the old veneers, to be replaced by temps until the new ones came in. Then off to work I’d go.

My first warning should have been when the assistant asked if I wanted novocain. “Will I need it?” I stupidly asked. “Oh yeah,” she replied.

My 2 front teeth (top) are mine. Two on each side of those are veneered (one of those is the broke ass one.) The novocain went into the very sensitive gum line in the top front of my mouth. I’m not a wimpy person but these fucking shots made me cry. I don’t wear waterproof mascara, so there went ‘blackish brown’ streaks down my temples. This should have been a warning, but no, I sucked it up and carried on.

The sadistic bastard then drilled off the veneers and god knows what else. I felt most of it. I really wished I’d gotten nitrous at this point, but I didn’t want to seem like a pussy so I soldiered on. After 30 minutes of this shit, they tell me they have to insert rods or some such bullshit in my gums. I thought I was too far gone to care.

I was wrong. This shit was bad. It was worse than the pain when my knee bent in the wrong direction. My hands were clenched together to keep from punching him in the face. And his cute little assistant. More tears. Somehow I survived it. Then the CLA and another S&M bitch start taking molds. Two of them (green) had to be left in 5 minutes to set. My bottom lip sealed to one of them and when CLA tried to pull it out I almost lost it. I carefully peeled my lip off of it and allowed her to proceed. The next time (with the whole fat, numb upper lip and everything) I had drool dripping down all over my chin. Wonderful.

Now, the S&MB starts taking molds for my temps. My gums are already swollen to twice their normal size, and my upper lip at least four times. She says ‘We don’t normally put temps on for veneers, but I guess you wanted them. (no shit) They’re going to be very fragile so you should avoid biting into things and nothing chewy. The veneers are made in Florida so it will be about 3 weeks for them to come in.” WTF??? Ok, I’m a positive person (NOT) so I thought, maybe this will help me lose weight.

Luckily I stopped in their bathroom on the way to the receptionist. I cleaned up the mascara mess. And the remains of the green molding stuff that was all over my face. The streak under my nose that looked like a booger was a pleasant bonus. AND the baby tooth is still a fucking baby tooth. Then I charged you don’t even want to know how much on my Capital One card for this. Am I the one with a problem??

Back in the car, I tried to take a drink of water and it dribbled all over the front of me. Then I tried to smoke, but couldn’t get my fat upper lip to cooperate. So I said fuck this and stopped at a donut shop and bought an apple fritter that was as big as a dinner plate and a chocolate donut (I so deserved both.)

While some of my twisted co-workers may have enjoyed my completely trashed state, I said fuck it and went home with my donuts. I emailed my boss that I was FUBAR for the day and snarfed donuts and chocolate milk (through a straw stuffed to the back of my mouth.) When the novocain wore off I dosed myself with vicoden the rest of the day.

When I go back for the rest of the dental work, I am so demanding nitrous. I don’t care what they say, I already paid an arm and two legs so at least I should get a good buzz out of this shit.

Where the hell have I been?

2009-01-22T22:41:00.004-05:00

I have many stories to tell, a dentist visit from hell, 746 jello shots, cripes it's been some week. I had a really witty post all written up and ready to publish the other night but the damn maintenance ate it (thanks Google!) Now I'm exhausted (and surprisingly sober) so I have nothing better to leave you than this gem from my dear mother, titled Redneck Seafood Dinner. I've never been a calamari fan myself, but I know Jeanne loves it!

Ass Drag Monday

2009-01-19T18:23:00.008-05:00

I know, I can't believe it's already Monday again. Someone really needs to do something about this shit. Well, since it's here, and so are you, here is another totally worthless Monday post.

Some have noticed that I changed my "photo." The pic of Teri Polo was not cutting it. She looked so wholesome, and, well, nice. Slowly, the picture started getting on my nerves every time I saw it. I mean, she doesn't even look like someone I would hang out with. Eventually, after viewing it so often, I wanted to kick her ass (not just for the photo, did you see Meet the Fockers? That's roughly 2 hours of my life I will never get back.)

So I started looking through my photos trying to find a replacement. One thing, I hate getting my picture taken. Most of the photos were horrible, maybe since most were taken by my supposed friends while out partying (re: wasted.) Or by my dad when he was in his 'photography' phase, which also happened to be in the 80's. You can imagine the hair and make-up. Really. Because I'm not showing you.

I found a few where I was turned away from the camera. However, I also happened to be flipping the bird in all of them. For my own page that would be one thing. But for it to show everytime I leave comments just seemed rude.

Then I found one of a mooning in progress. I couldn't determine if I was pulling up or dropping down and it wasn't a full moon. As Captain Clueless would say, just the coin slot was hanging out. Butt (hahaha,) that seemed only slightly less rude than the finger, and I have that whole 'internet perv' fear thing going on.

So I settled for taking a photo of a few of my bad habits. Marlboro's. Billiards (why is this a bad habit? My dad forbid me from hanging out in pool halls as a teen so I figure he thought there was something wrong with it. Obviously I don't take well to being forbidden because that's where I was ALL THE TIME.) And the drink. What's in it? Well, I will leave it for you to imagine your favorite just-add-cola potion. Because really, what booze won't I drink?

Ambushed

2009-01-18T17:37:00.025-05:00

I woke up this morning to more snow, so I decided I should go out and clear the driveway. Lo and behold, I get outside and it’s a veritable heat wave. A whole 21° F! After finishing my chore and trudging back inside, the general informs me that Q called and we’ve been given a top secret mission. No one is supposed to know, but posing as my butler is just one of his cover jobs. Being a matter of national security and all, I know you won’t tell anyone.

I had my suspicions that this mission was just a ruse. But I was also aware that stir-crazy was on the verge of morphing into just plain crazy and if he didn’t get some outdoor time I might be smothered in my sleep.

The general and I head out into the frozen tundra. We got visuals on some old tracks, but no active signs of life.

The general beat the brush and bank looking for furred or feathered enemies to scare the bejeepers out of, all to no avail.

About a mile and a half into our mission we came across a suspicious looking ridge in the distance. “Hmm,” I say to the general, “there’s never been a ridge in this area. And there’s no snow on it.” He agrees that it’s odd.

We go into stealth mode to investigate. As we get close we realize we had stumbled upon an entire battalion of enemy troops! (And me still with no gak.)

I don’t know if they were tipped off by jingling dog tags, or a reflection off my spy cam but they suddenly split forces and beat a hasty retreat.
Some went to the other side of the partially frozen river, others remained in the sky.
The general diligently searched the abandoned camp site for clues of their nefarious plans.

“It’s a trap!” I screamed to the general, “They’ve circled back around to flank us. Retreat, retreat!” We hauled ass back to the bunker, barely escaping with our lives. The general is still on duty, making sure that none of those dirty birds followed our tracks back to the safe house. “Ruse indeed,” he snorts as I meekly go about my duties.

Have you seen my dancing slippers?

2009-01-17T16:45:00.002-05:00

Once upon a time there was the ‘Season’ in which Lords and Ladies spent hours getting dressed in their finest frippery and stayed out dancing until dawn. And then slept until noon the next day, because really, what else did they have to do besides eat, drink and be merry? My own season is about to start, but it’s a slight bit more common.

What season is it? Of course, it is the whirlwind of softball fund-raisers. It starts out with, if you come to ours, we’ll come to yours. Next thing I know every weekend I will be traipsing out in freezing ass weather to eat bad fish, soggy fries and all the draft beer I could want. Do you know how you feel the day after drinking all the draft beer you could want? Let’s just say I’ll be spending enough time in my bathroom to start contemplating new color schemes for it (again.)

These things tend to be held in drafty halls, which means I will have to wear something reasonably warm. As if I don’t feel fat enough I get to pile on a couple of layers to keep from getting frost bite. There aren’t even flowers, a band or candle light to hide your flaws. Just smelly fish, bad PA systems and harsh fluorescents. Eventually the beer and (they better have) jello shots will kick in and I won’t care so much.

I wanted to rest up for tonight, the first big opener. But I had to get up at some unholy hour to go to the hospital and have some tests run. I tried to nap this afternoon but people kept stopping by and calling on the phone. I know what you’re thinking, why didn’t my butler turn all of these people away? He just barked and barked adding to the general chaos. Good help is so hard to find these days.

The best I can hope for is to win a really good door prize, because I always lose my ass at the gaming tables. Now I have a little over an hour to get ready so I had better go. After all, I still need to track down my corset and have the maid dress my hair.

F@#$%$! up the rules again

2009-01-15T17:52:00.005-05:00

I got this lovely award from Debra. I was supposed to list 10 honest (ah hem) things about myself and pass the award on to 7 others. Now, I don't have all that many contacts in the blogger community yet. So you're gettin' the list and if anyone else wants to participate feel free to steal it here and pass it on. Is this against blog etiquette? Is there blog etiquette? Here's a honest freebie for you, I wouldn't care if there was...

1. I download both mine and my husband’s ipod music on my PC. None of the Kelly Clarkson is mine. Neither is the Shania Twain. Draw your own conclusions.

2. I lie about watching Oprah. You know, when the girls are all talking about ‘Oh, you’re so lucky when you work from home you can watch Oprah’ or ‘Did you see the Oprah episode about countries that love fat women?’ I nod and smile. Hell, I can remember her talk show on TV when I was young enough to earn my income from babysitting. Besides, she is on at the same time as Ellen. And Ellen friggin' cracks me up.

3. If my dog needed a kidney and I was a match, I would give it to him.

4. If I stopped highlighting my hair I would have a large swath of gray front and slightly off center. So I will never stop highlighting, and come on, everyone knows in the movies the woman with the streak of gray hair in her bangs is a total psycho bitch.

5. I play Grand Theft Auto. I haven’t yet whipped out a gak and started blowing people away but that might be because I don’t have a gak. Also the newest one is really annoying because by the time you beat down 2 random people on the street and take their money the cops are all over your ass.

6. When I was younger I was so skinny that people joked about my hip bones sticking out farther than my boobs. Now I'm just trying to keep my stomach from sticking out farther than my boobs.

7. I cuss like a sailor. My friends are amazed that while at work I can somehow censor out all of the fucks but when I’m around their kids they keep slipping out. I’m trying, really. Maybe they should make their kids carry around blackberry’s and dress in suits…

8. I’ve seen KISS in concert twice. Once with make-up and once without (them. I was made up like a total slut.) And I think I actually remembered the words to 3 of their songs.

9. I love horror movies. The really scary, gory ones. After seeing The Ring, The Grudge and Bogeyman that PG-13 shit is banned in my household.

10. I am the coolest person I know. My husband thinks he is the coolest person I know. And that’s just one of the many reasons he is so lovably clueless.

Whew, that was tough. I think I need a drink...

Random thoughts

2009-01-14T20:07:00.002-05:00

It's been a slow week. I had a phone chat with Mini-J earlier, pretty much all I got out of it was 'hi aunt hoodchick', 'blah blah poopie blah blah blah' and 'see you later.' I tried to clarify the poopie part, but he wasn't giving out details.

I did get an award, which says I have to list 10 honest things about myself. It may take me a while to come up with this list of things but I will give it a try. In my mind I am still debating the nuances of honest.

Now I'm missing American Idol. I resisted this show for the first several seasons but even the best of us falls (and I dig David Cook) so I'll leave you with the shortest psychiatric joke I know (so you might get a laugh out of this wasted post:)
A man walks into a psychiatrist's office wearing nothing but saran wrap. The doctor says 'I can clearly see your nuts.'

Ass Drag Monday

2009-01-12T20:17:00.003-05:00

Ok, it's Monday and I'm wiped. I was going to try to come up with something witty, but my brain isn't up to it.

I considered taking a picture of my self-pedicure from Saturday night so you all could get a laugh out of that and guess at how many rum's I had before I finished. However, I was afraid some perv would self-pleasure to the sight of my feet which then really creeped me out and I scrapped the idea. And no, I still haven't cleaned up the mess I made of my toes. Hell, I won't be wearing sandals for months.

So (if I can actually read the writing on this damn recipe) - you are getting these 'super easy' (according to my SIL who cooks AND cleans AND has a toddler AND a job. Really, I thought I liked her but upon further consideration she may need to get a bitchy nickname,)

Apple Dumplings:

2 Granny Smith apples, peeled, cored, quartered
2 cans crescent rolls
cinnamon
2 sticks butter
1 tsp vanilla
1 1/2 cups sugar
6 oz can of Mt. Dew*

Butter 9x13 pan
Roll up apple slice in each crescent, put in pan
Melt butter on stove, pour in sugar. Barely stir together. Add vanilla, don't over stir (should be lumpy & grainy)
Pour mixture over dumplings
Pour Mt Dew around edges and center of pan
Sprinkle w/ cinnamon
Bake @ 350 for 30-45 minutes.

*I know there is no such thing as a freaking 6 oz can of Mt. Dew. I used to drink it by the six pack before I switched to Bud Light. For those of you who need help, 6 oz is 3/4 cup.

Also, 30-45 minutes is a pretty big window. Were they allowing for elevation differences between Ohio and Indiana? I guess if they start to turn a nice brown then take them out. I did eat one over at little-miss-perfect's house, with a scoop of vanilla ice cream, and it was good. They are small, and the fact that I could have eaten the whole pan but I only had 1 means that I didn't ruin my diet. Right??

p.s. To all you lurkers, stop trying to figure out who I am. I will never fess up!

Emotionally scarred for life

2009-01-10T17:09:00.009-05:00

It seems that one of the favorite gifts my dear nephew's received this year was underwear. The ones under 5. Well, the other ones may have gotten underwear too, and I would have loved to have seen them for the holidays (too bad they live in bum fuck New Mexico) but preferably with pants on.

It started on Christmas Day when Three got to grandma's, removed his coat and then his pants. (Side note - the fact that he is three isn't why I call him that. His name is Something Something Something The Third. Poor kid. That and it pisses my sister off.) Why did he do this you may be asking? Because he wanted everyone to see his Incredible Hulk boxers. My sister (aka Tattle Tale Bitch) lets her kids run around like banshee's while at grandma's so I was surprised that she bothered to spend the whole day making Three put his pants back on.

Fast forward to New Year's Eve. We get to my BIL's house and Mini-J is running around in Cars boxers that he got for Christmas. My SIL said she tried to get pants on him but he had a tantrum 'no, mommy, ka-chow ka-chow' so she gave up. It wasn't such a bad idea on his part. I can remember back in my BIL's divorced days when he barely kept his house warm enough for the pipes not to burst. He was too busy spending his money in bars picking up cheap sluts. (Not my SIL, she isn't cheap at all.) Now it's so hot in there if you wear anything heavier than a t-shirt and do anything more strenuous than sit on the couch and blink you will break out in a sweat. But I digress.

Why did this fascinate me? Because I was jealous. Back when I was a pre-teen Underoos came out. And I really wanted me some Wonder Woman Underoos. I begged, wheedled and whined to no avail. My mom, being a cold-hearted bitch, refused to buy me any. Never mind the fact that my dad had been out of work for a while and we may have been on food stamps at the time.

Wouldn't you know it, TTB, born the same year Underoos were, received several pairs. I was too old for the roos by then but it still pissed me off. Even though our finances were improved by then she should not have gotten any. If my brother and I had to grow up being the only kids we knew without super heroes on our skivvies she should have had to deal with the same hardship. I'm just sayin.

Performance anxiety...

2009-01-09T20:26:00.006-05:00

I'm in hell. Really.

I've procrastinated and made half-assed attempts to the point where I have to have my yearly performance review submitted to my boss by freaking Monday. For those of you that don't have to deal with this corporate BS - they give us a list of general level things to accomplish. Then you have to come up with things that fit that list and show you actually contributed something "to the bottom line". It's better if you can quantify them. Then you have to give numerical rankings to your work. Then you go over it with your boss, change the numbers to what they think they should be, sign it and "whew, done for another year" sets in. So I just have to get over the hump, right? But with today's economy and layoffs, I really feel the need to have something impressive in here. I don't think I would do well on welfare, I have too many vices. Chocolate. Smoking. Drinking. Shoes. Heat. Oh yeah, and piles of bills that companies actually have the nerve to expect payment on.

After spending 6 hours refining it today, and being 2 beers in, I'm feeling pretty good about 3 sections of it. The section I'm stuck on is around communication. Now, I know what you're thinking. I've started a blog where I manage to blather on and on about nothing, and I seem fairly literate. But anyone that doesn't know me very well says the same thing "She's so quiet!" Here's a list of the reasons I am so quiet:

I'm an obnoxious smart-ass holding in all of the inappropriate things I really want to say.
I lack social grace. Really. Some (thanks Jeanne) think I have a mild case of Aspergers. I'm horrible at making small talk. I mumble something about the weather, stare at my shoes and then hurry off because "I have a meeting to get to."
Bragging on myself is not something I'm good at. I'm much more likely to make fun of myself for my many flaws. I'm sure being the middle child comes into play here.
I'm a private person. I know, I'm letting it all hang out here. But I feel fairly safe and anonymous except that some people following Jeanne might figure out who I am. And it worries me. Also when you say "I had a really bad weekend" I don't say "Really, what happened?" not because I don't give a shit but because it feels like prying.
Well, ok, some times I really don't give a shit.
I suck at politics and that sort of thing. Really, I just want to make shit happen. And I want it to be right. If you really need your ego stroked that bad, go into acting or something and get out of my world.

Wow, this is better than therapy. Not that I've ever been. Or it could be that I've almost finished my third beer. I have to go. Captain Clueless (who spent 4 hours surfing the net) is done and now in there whining about being bored and all I do is blog anymore, wah wah.

Making Jello shots

2009-01-08T17:32:00.002-05:00

We generally use cheap Vodka, but you can use other liquors - but beware because some don't taste so good together. Like raspberry jello and tequilla? Lime with coconut rum? Eww. Tequilla is really good in the blue jello.

Basically, you do 1/2 and 1/2. So if it is a 6oz package of jello you would follow the basic directions like this:
Boil 2 cups of water (we microwave it)
Completely disolve the jello in it
Stir in 2 cups of cold vodka

Then pour it into something to set. We use the 2oz size plastic cups from GFS. Refrigerate until set. Since we make so many, we do 4 cups water, 2 large (or 4 small) jellos, 4 cups vodka at a time.

Being winter in Ohio (um, it's 19 degrees out) we just stack them in coolers in the garage with the lid open and it's cold enough for them to set.

How do you eat them? Well, you're not supposed to top them with whip cream and use a spoon. Some say if you use anything other than your tongue it's cheating.

I'm off for a play date with Mini J!

Jello shot hell, or is it...

2009-01-07T19:14:00.002-05:00

It's that time again. All of us wives/girlfriends are expected to work our asses off for the men's hobby. Cpt Clueless and my BIL have a softball team. Fish fry coming up on 1/24. So sometime in the next two weeks we better halves will be making jello shots. At least 500. While they are supposedly out 'hitting balls'.

If you've never made these, let me tell you it's a pain in the ass filling up all of those little 2 oz. cups. At least I don't get stuck with lid duty!

So the last few years I tried turkey basters. But you have to put your finger over the end to keep the jello from leaking out. After many batches of purple, blue, red and orange (I banned lime - it's just nasty) your finger ends up dyed a disgusting color.

This year I thought I'd try one of those pancake batter dispensers. Tests were a disaster. Batter might be fine in them but liquids just run out all over. Really. I'm desperate for ideas. It has to be something that won't drip, and holds quite a bit so it doesn't constantly need to be refilled.

It also has to be easy enough to operate with a buzz on. Because really, like we could work with all that booze and not throw down a few. Ok, maybe more than a few. And maybe we gossip a lot while we're doing it. All right already, it's really like a mini-girl party with chores than actual "work." And we eat at least a quarter of them at the fish fry without paying for them.

But don't tell the guys, because we'll bitch about having to do this for at least a month.

Hi ho, hi ho, back to work I go (sort of)

2009-01-05T18:19:00.003-05:00

I don't think I mentioned that I took 2 weeks of vacation over the holidays. I am lucky to have the kind of job that I can work from home if need be. So I did today, which kept me from having to schlep my sorry ass out of bed quite as early as normal. Which would be ok, except the reason I did not go into the office is I needed emergency dental care.

Now, I'm a little paranoid about my teeth. I had years of braces. Then the wonderful retainer age began. Then, because I have little tiny teeth (thanks to my mother's side of the family) I ended up with 4 veneers to fill in the spaces.

So Friday night while innocently snarfing a Frickin Chicken Pizza (a local thing) I BREAK A FRIGGIN TOOTH OFF. In the front, next to the eye teeth. (According the dentist, #10. If I had been caught up on my blog reading I would have told him, no, that's Chewbaca.)

You can imagine my horror. I proceded to down Captain and Diet Pepsi like the world was coming to an end. I was out of Chasers and not going anywhere public looking like that and Cpt Clueless was doing nothing worth while except making fun of me. I told him I was putting the tooth under my pillow and I better find some cash in the morning or that bitch tooth fairy was in for it.

Lucky for her I was too hungover Saturday to keep my promise...

New use for those holiday gift cards

2009-01-02T10:31:00.004-05:00

I know, I'm supposed to be getting showered and ready for a marathon of errands (including a trip to the library that is finally back open! Yeah!) but I thought this was interesting and had to share it.

This might be especially useful to those of you that get gift cards from out of towners who don't realize you don't even have that store/restaurant in your city.

Published - Jan 01 2009 03:38PM EST AP
You can call it a case of creative drug-dealing. Athens police have a 38-year-old man in custody for allegedly accepting gift cards for payment for crack cocaine and prescription drugs. Police Captain Marty Bruce, a spokesman, said the man was arrested Monday night. He was charged with possession of a controlled substance.Bruce said officers executed a search warrant at the man's house and seized crack cocaine, Xanax pills, $899 cash and $175 in gift cards.

Do you think he went on-line to check the balance on the cards before he accepted them as payment? Because you know how sneaky those crack users can be...

Crank Texts?

2009-01-01T18:11:00.003-05:00

Well, I had a fairly tame New Year's Eve celebration planned. We went to Cpt Clueless (don't start on me about apostrophe's, I have no idea where they go on that one nor do I care) brothers house to hang out. My BIL had to work the next day so we were going to have pizza and play with the 2 year old nephew, Mini J. I had a new camera to test out and Mini J loves having "movies" of himself to watch.

At 5:50 I got a text that came from: #-###-###-####. It said "Happy New Year. I know I am early but i have alot of sexy people 2 text so im gettin the ugly fuckers out of the way first... Lol. Pass it on..."

Ok, this just cracked all of us up (except Mini J, he didn't get it.) My BIL immediately wanted me to forward it to him, which I did. He then sent it out to their whole softball team (more hilarity ensued.) But I had no idea who it was from. I thought about sending an equally obnoxious text back - I mean who knows who really sent it to me? Cpt Clueless takes my phone and calls the number (he has his moments) - someone answers and he rudely demands "Who is this?" Then he starts cracking up and hands me the phone, saying that it's my little sister! We talked for a few minutes, and I told her only the phone number showed up, not her name. Well, she had also sent it to our 18 year old nephew so she decided she better clear up to him where it came from.

My SIL couldn't believe that I didn't know my own sister's cell number. Well, I explained, she changes home phone, cell and email as often as I buy shoes - and that's often. About that time I have my first beer of the night (only 2 there, left the hard drinking till we got home later.)

So my mom called me a little while ago to wish me a Happy New Year. One of the first things she asks is if I'm hungover. "No!" I reply (Chasers are the shit) and she said - well your sister said you sounded pretty tipsy when she talked to you last night. I hadn't even started drinking yet and OMG, she's 30 years old and still a tattle tale!

Happy 2009!

Intro

2008-12-31T11:27:00.002-05:00

Everyone (ok, not everyone, but a few people) have been nagging me to start my own blog. Ta-da!

First, let's explain the whole 'HoodChick' thing. I really didn't expect it to stick but it has so I'm just going with it. My husband (who will be referred to as Captain Clueless) and I were both teens in the eighties. He was into sports and cars and sports. I, on the other hand, was into pegged pants, bandanas, jean jackets, smoking in the bathroom - you know, one of the cool kids - also referred to as Hoods back in the day. When I'm rockin to some 80's music or having a really bad hair day Cpt Clueless likes to sneer and say things like 'God, you're such a hood chick!'

I don't mind, because I was bad-ass and he was a dork. It's a good thing we met in the late 90's because in high school I would've been way too cool to hook up with him. We've been married 11 years and it still mystifies me at times.

I'll leave you with a Letterman fun-fact from last night (because when he said it I almost shot milk out my nose:) Despite years and years of scientific study, researchers still have not been able to determine why underwear is singular and underpants is plural.