Guilty Pleasures

Leaving a small puddle of apple juice on the floor because the kids have already skidded on it twice and it keeps getting better.

Shoving my son's finger WAY up his nose upon his refusal to remove said digit for the umpteenth time.

Sticking the lint back in my daughter's toes after she spent 20 obsessive minutes clearing it out.




I'm an evil, evil mother. I seek out little sadistic moments that help me get through not ever being able to take a shit in peace.

My Tuesday:

No work
Barfing
Computer maintenance
Back pain
Tension
Sleeping late
Immensely erotic dreams
Laundry

Details:
Day off from retail - hating the wierd schedule.
Caught whatever stomach bug my mom has.
Found a motherfucker of a virus.
In my feverish state I must have slept like a pissed off hedgehog.
My mother, well, she's still keepin it real.
I officially woke up at 2p.
So there was this one about a cat with 2 penises and a vagina, who had a litter of kittens, but no nipples to nurse them so they died.
I love having to wash "big boy pants" that my son soiled a week ago.



Someone plese send me something to lighten my day. I feel like hammered shit.

Laziness

I totally pilfered this from Dorky Dad.
I'm like those Cliff's Notes dudes. I'm really not up to writing, as I pretty much belched forth my spleen in one of my more recent posts. Bleh.

And Dr. Phil Makes It To the Third Round!!!

Poor, Poor, Hildegarde

It is through a thick Cuervo haze that I come to tell you the sad story of the demise of Hildegarde. She was a big girl - all three rows of seating and tinted windows galore. If you recall, Hildy was bequeathed to me by some very generous people after I made The Big Leave in November. She left today on a flatbed with 386,511 miles on her - the last 3000 of which served me well.

It was a sad state. My mother and I were off to do some shopping. I pulled out of the garage, and went through the parking lot to head out and a ghastly scraping sound emanated from the passenger front wheel. I had known it was coming. Some clicking and a gangsta-esque lean told me that the suspension - and most likely my entire right front end - would one day just sort of drop off. Luckily it was just me and my mom, and not on the highway. Kinda really sad though. I told myself with as many miles as Hildy had seen, this next big tadoo would be the straw that broke the camel's back and we would have to part ways. So, I called the tow dudes, signed over the title, and off she went. It was a gruesome scene, really. The axle, shocks, struts, and all the other guts lay on the ground beneath the wheel well, while the tire itself had become wedged half beneath the passenger side door. Just awful. One of the shittiest parts was that Ma and I were heading out to shop, go to a movie, etc. AND I WAS HAVING A FANTASTIC HAIR DAY!! All for not, due to Hildy developing vehicular leprosy. Damnit.

In other news, I must give a shout out to my stellar psychic powers. I chose the apartment I live in, and both places of employment I have had here in Faar-goh based on the possibility of catastrophe. Having said that, my new job at Big Retail is just a short bus ride away. I am not at all as squeamish as these people-cicles about public transport. Growing up in Jersey, and having lived in and traveled to Philly made me appreciate trains, subways, buses, trolleys, etc. It was actually a relief today to call my insurance company and cancel my policy. Not that I paid much at all - like $400 a year for Hildy - but it's an expense I'd just as soon go without. And gas? Fahgetaboutit.

So yeah, I'm working at Big Retail now. If my name was something normal like Sue and this town wasn't so small, I'd totally spill the beans on what corporate monger I was slinging for - but too many stalker stories out there.

Working on my feet all day is actually a welcome change. I missed the micro-friendships you develop with customers on the sales floor and at the registers.

So my drunk ass is goin to bed. I have to sit through a child psychologist meeting tomorrow with The Soon To Be Ex and I want to be as lucid as possible for all the finger waiving and "constructive criticism" that this woman will be slinging.

A Banner Of The Obvious

So why is it that people post photos of their naughty bits on online dating sites? Doesn't like, mystery exist any more? Doesn't the fun in getting to know someone lie in speculating on the dimensions of their bits and pieces? (And their mental fortitude for that matter.) And then it's all "Oh! I put my quarter in! I wonder what color gumball will come swirling down??!"
That pre-discovery thrill is why some people never get married. Me? I'm totally Nancy Fucking Drew. Don't post a photo of your Johnson. (Johnson?) It's like lacing Valentines candy with iocane powder. Not cool.