He's a slow pooper.......

The Great White Lizard Hunter has a love/hate relationship with poop. He loves to make poop jokes. Don't even get me started on farting..... He often steps in dog poop in the yard, and then gets to play with the hose to wash off said poop.

He doesn't like to actually go poop.

This kid will hold it for ever, and then he will be in the bathroom for upwards of 45 minutes.

The neighbor kids were over a couple of weeks ago and suddenly the GWLH disappeared into the bathroom. Thirty minutes later neighbor boy asks what is going on.

"He's pooping" I say.

"He's a slow pooper." neighbor boy says - then runs to the bathroom door and yells
"You're a slow pooper, GWLH!"

Laughter ensues and he eventually comes out.

Fast forward a week and we are on our way to the Miami Dolphins game with the neighbor kids parents. The GWLH is spending the weekend with his Grandma who was down visiting from Illinois.

We were joking about the "slow pooper" comment that their son made when my cell phone rang - it was Grandma.

"Hello?"

"Hi honey, um, the GWLH has been in the bathroom for about half an hour, do I need to be worried?"

I almost dropped the phone from laughter -

"No, mom, he's just a slow pooper"

"Oh, OK, have fun at the game."

He knows Victoria's Secret

While watching How the Grinch Stole Christmas last night, the Great White Lizard Hunter came out of his room to get a drink. He was walking briskly back to his room when he stopped dead in his tracks. He did a little double take and stood there smiling. We were watching the Victoria's Secret Special. The GWLH started again for his room then backed up again to stare at our TV in awe. Finally he came over to me and whispered in my ear.

"I can't hear you honey, say it again."

"What garble garble garble garble."

"Sweetie, speak up."

a breathless whisper....

"What channel is that on?"

"Channel 6, honey."

With that, he ran to his room grabbed his remote and shut his door.

"No" I shouted, "You may not shut your door or watch that in your room."

He resigned himself to coloring and coming out to peek now and then at the pretty girls with long legs and strange outfits.

At the end of the show when all of the models were lined up on stage he asked,

"Mom, OBH, is this real?"

"Yes, it's real."

The OBH says to him,

"Those girls are pretty aren't they?"

*blushing* "Yes"

"But not as pretty as Mom, right?"

*matter of factly* "No, they're more prettier."

Ain't Got Time For The Pain

Dear Internet People,
I have like 30 drafts sitting here, but things are hectic now, and I can't bear to go and proofread one so I leave you with this: One of the best days I've had in awhile!!!!!!!! and, and.....it leads to the next one which I promise will be funny!
































Coming next: "The Slow Pooper"
Believe it or not it ties in to this post, albeit in a slightly obscure way, but it is sure to make you chuckle.

What is wrong with these pictures?

First:



Answer: Hershey is not making the ducks leave, thereby letting them shit their nasty slime all over my yard.


Second:



Answer: It is 80 degrees outside and we are hanging Christmas lights.


Third:



Answer: What is my son doing on the roof with a broom?

Fourth:



This is what happens when 6 year old boys help you decorate your gingerbread house.




Batman, The Incredible Hulk, dinosaurs, army men, spiders & bugs, drunk clowns.....





What do you people think??????? Any observations? Any comments?

I am a rock whore, The Great White Lizard Hunter rocks out

I LOVE music.

LIVE
LOUD
IN MY FACE

I have been to at least 500 concerts in my life.

The first concert I ever went to was Leif Garrett (I know)

I have seen everything from Rick Springfield to Anthrax.

I have been on more tour buses than I care to mention.

I am a TOOL fanatic.

Maynard James Keenan is God a genius.
I once bared a nipple ring and offered up some starburst for Maynard's song list that was duct taped to the stage - and got it.

I have seen the likes of Huey Lewis and the News, Aerosmith, Guns & Roses, Metallica, Soundgarden, I Mother Earth, Marilyn Manson, GWAR, Staind, Kid Rock, Snoop Dogg, Lenny Kravitz, Queensryche, Disturbed, Foo Fighters, ..............oh my god, I could go on and on.

When I was 6 months pregnant with the Great White Lizard Hunter, I saw TOOL for the 5th time.

That little bugger came out of me with the rock horns blaring and hasn't stopped since.

He steals my IPod every chance he gets and is constantly asking for new songs to be downloaded. He scans the radio stations in the car for a song that is his "favorite".

He's been bugging me for months to go see a concert "like you did when I was in your tummy."

Not wanting to take a 6 year old to a huge stadium concert, we waited for the local radio station to put on one of their two big concerts they do each year. (X-Fest and X-Mas Ball).

I purchased the tickets and told the Great White Lizard Hunter that he would be going to the concert.

Good Lord, it was a daily countdown.

Friday night was the big night. Not wanting to be there for 8 hours like the rest of the losers 20 yr olds, we showed up just in time for the two headliners - Shinedown & Avenged Sevenfold.

The Great White Lizard Hunter was in awe. When the crowd went nuts and were swaying their arms in the air in unison, he was in disbelief. When the sappy love song started and all the lighters went up, he was beside himself. This child was a silent observer, but soaking everything up for the next time. He knew the songs, he was just learning how to react to live music. We didn't go deep into the crowd (as much as I wanted to ) We stayed on the outskirts and let him take it all in. It was quite impressive. He loved it. It made my heart proud.

I wasn't allowed to have a camera in the concert to take pictures of his every emotion, but this boy was in heaven.

I have created a monster.

And I can't wait to take him to the next big show.

Random Thoughts at Work 12-3-08, or other reasons why I absolutely love my job, but hate certain people

* Why does "C" look like she's about to take flight every time she is telling a story? Those arms are flapping!

* Why does "C" constantly have to slam her hands down on the print table while she is talking and attempting to take flight?

* Perhaps slamming the table prevents the actual taking off process? Either way both are annoying as hell and I must walk away mid-sentence.

* Dear "C", if you print a document to the printer, or are making copies on said printer, and it stops mid-way, hitting the printer and swearing at it will not make it continue to print. Opening one of the drawers, however, and putting more paper in, will. Just so you know.

* Dear annoying dude who constantly walks in circles in the courtyard outside my door while smoking (every 30 minutes). You are fucking weird. Nobody wants to talk to you. You think you are hot shit with that blue-tooth dont'cha? You talk like Mike Tyson, have you been sucking helium? Most of us in the office avoid going outside if we see you out there. Please stop checking in my window while walking in circles to see if I am watching you. When you are out there, I hide in the back.

* Dear annoying dude who constantly walks in circles in the courtyard outside my door while smoking - bending down and picking weeds out of the cracks of the pavers does not a "landscape architect" make. Please stop telling me that is what you are. I know better.

* Dear "K" who works in the office across the courtyard. I know it was a little cold today, but it is Wednesday, the day of the week that you always wear the inappropriate white "Marilyn Monroe" dress to your office. No hard feelings, you are built like a linebacker and we always laugh at you anyway.

* Dear caller, if you call for someone and I tell you they are not in and "no, I do not have their schedule", do not ask me if I know of a better time to call because my next answer will be "never."

* Dear other caller, who has called every day for the past two months for the same person and has left a message for that person every time. Get a clue, they haven't called you back. They aren't going to. Stop calling. I stopped writing down the message 3 weeks ago.

* I have got to do something with these shoes I'm wearing because they are making my feet stink.

* Dear "M", when I tell you "so & so" is on the phone for you, do not ask me what they want. I do not know. Don't ask me why they didn't call your cell phone. I do not know, but they are on the phone right now, waiting for you to pick up. Do not give me a blank stare - either answer the damn call or I'll take a message.
mmmmmmm-kay?

* Dear UPS dude - it has been a year and a half. Please stop hitting on me now. Yes, I am still with the Oilybeauhunk. No, I don't want to "make him mad."

PS: why do UPS dudes always smell like a combination of my grandmother's attic and my mother's basement?

Scary Mice with Shitty Pizza - part deux

The Great White Lizard Hunter will be 7 in January. He has been compiling a "Santa Wish List" for the past several months now. Pretty much every time there is a commercial on Cartoon Network - he yells "Mom, come here, I want this, put it on my Santa list."
This list has gotten out of control.
Today, when I picked him up from school there were kids all around him, shouting out numbers and asking "What day is it?" "What day is it?"
One of the after school teachers informed me that the Great White Lizard Hunter was compiling his birthday list and that the children were all signing up to go to the GWLH birthday party at Chuck-E-Cheese.

Oh Hell No. I will not go back to that place any time soon.

Still confused, I checked his backpack when we got home. Inside there was an invitation to a classmate's birthday party at Chuck-E-Cheese. There was also a handwritten list (albeit hard to read) of the GWLH friend's names and phone numbers who were "signing up" for his big party at the gates of hell Chuck-E-Cheese.

So, when did 6 year old kids start planning their own birthday parties and where they were having them, without informing the parents? Am I missing out on something here?

Last year he went to the Zoo for his birthday - on Friday of this week he will be attending his first rock concert. 5 bands - all of whom play his "favorite song". In two weeks he will be going to Universal Studios for the first time. Why then, oh why, please tell me dear internet, would I subject myself to Chuck-E-Cheese with a bunch of children that I don't know - that HE planned all by himself without my knowledge?

What am I missing here?

Turkey Shmurkey, I don't know the rest of the story...

I don't have a creative bone in my body today. My stomach is still full and I am tired. I did find this little note that I must have written last week, it was part of a conversation that I don't remember, but I wrote this much of it down - and keep in mind - I can't make this shit up, people, this really comes out of his mouth...

"That would be awesome, you bent over with your ass in the air and me watching the weather channel."

I have no idea............


Our Turkey Day was for the most part uneventful - the same old thing, too much food, too much booze. It was wonderful to reconnect with family for the first time in many many long months - Even.Though.We.Only.Live.40.Miles.Apart.At.The.Most. I love these people, we just never get together enough. And if you are reading this Mom, we missed you.

Anywho----

This is what I am thankful for this year.
She has been sick for 6 months. We finally got her healed and gave her a very much needed bath today. She will be ready for tomorrow.

This will be us tomorrow........don't be hatin'




That picture was taken by a helicopter before she got sick. The only difference tomorrow is that the Great White Lizard Hunter will be with us.

Say Hello to the Captain!




Hopefully there will be plenty of this:




And I will try not to let this happen again...........





See ya! Haters.

Of hairy boogers and good books

So I am reading this book called "The Gone-Away World" by Nick Harkaway. It is pretty cool, but a difficult read. This sentence stumped me:

"Mr. Clisp, the gambler, teaches us not only mathematics but also materialistic ethics, setting logic puzzles on the board which appear to be value-neutral but which, when resolved, condemn the vituperative harridan in ringing tones."

I read it out loud to the Oilybeauhunk.

OBH - "I know what it means, but I'm not going to tell you."

Me - "Oh really?"

OBH - "Duh, vituperative means nose picking."

Me - "OK?"

OBH - "And harridan is hairy boogers - so duh (sticking finger in nose) vituperative - (flicking finger out) harridan. Picking hairy boogers."

Me - shrugs shoulders and walks away.

I'm dreaming of a White Trash Christmas

**news flash**
**According to Jenny the Bloggess, 4 kittens were strangled because I wrote this post**
one must note that The Bloggess doesn't need traffic from me because she rocks (and I don't get any traffic, but the awesomeness is relevant (crap that's 5 kittens)

The little window in our door fell out and broke last week. It was no big deal as our weather has been awesome and the screen is still in place. Not to mention we were going to get a new window this weekend.
Well the temperature is expected to fall to 39 tonight.
As I was cooking dinner, the Oilybeauhunk was doing something "crafty", and by "crafty" I mean I am using too many "quotation marks" and he is doing something "redneckish" or "white trashy" if you will.

I turn to find a cut up Coors Light box duct taped into the slot of the missing window.

"Why don't you put tin foil up in the living room windows while you're at it, hon?"

"That would be awesome because it's sparkly" he says.

My "My Name is Earl" accent kicks in:

"Fer sure 'cuz it's just tinsel dat ain't been sliced up yet."

"We can hang empty beer cans up for bells and windchimes and use beer tabs for ornaments on the tree" he says.

"Awesome, dude, how about taking bottle caps and drilling little holes for the tree lights to fit through for more sparkle?" I say.

Even more awesome -

"We could cut cans in half for votive candles - that would make for nice ambiance."

"The levels we could take this are endless!!!!!!!"

Where's the dremel? Christmas will be cheap this year - And Sparkly!

Do you like my temporary window?

The awesome Mr. Beez

For fourteen years you enriched my life.

For fourteen years you put up with my insanity.

For fourteen years you followed me everywhere.

You didn't like to be held, but you loved to have your ears & belly rubbed.

You were not a lap cat.

You were stoic and handsome.

You lived like a king.

You fetched balls like a dog and later tought Hershey how to do the same thing.

You came to greet me every day when I came home from work.

You loved raw hamburger.

You pissed off the dogs.

You were a shitty fighter.

You had a fat belly and were proud of it.

You liked to have your nuts rubbed. I was the only one who would do it.

You didn't meow. You said MEH, and you meant it.

You filled a void in my life.

You let Hettie smack you every morning at breakfast.

You and Hershey got your gay love on in what we called your fag & fight sessions - and they were awesome.

You S-T-U-N-K dude. You rolled in some stank ass shit and then came in the house to share said stank.

You were a master hunter. Remember the 63 voles and the skinned headless rabbit you brought me on that 2 month camping trip? Damn. How about the 4 dead squirrels you left me INMYHOUSE while I was away for the weekend?

You jumped out of said camper, twice, whilst going 55 mph on a highway at night and still made it back to me.

Why then, could you not miss the tires last night on your stroll across the street?

Bezl, I miss you.

My heart is broken.

I keep looking for you in your usual spots. Up at the ceiling on the kitchen cabinets. On your scratching post. In my bed.

For fourteen years you were my sidekick.

Even Hershey & Hettie - who hate each other - are sleeping together. THAT has never happened before.

You were the first cat begging for breakfast every morning.

You weren't here for breakfast this morning.

Dude. I miss you more than words can say.

Drunk Dialing - Infommercial Style

What makes a person purchase something they don't need? I understand impulse buys in a store. I understand the impulse buy when grocery shopping whilst hungry. But this? This is just absurd.



Drunk e-mailing - done it.

Drunk myspace - done it.

Drunk commenting on blogs - guilty

Drunk dialing - totally did it.



Now I can add a new one to the list. Drunk Infommercial ordering.



Shit I am lame.



In the last two weeks I have recieved the following two items, God help me if anything else shows up.....



The UPS guys, the FedEx guys, the Culligan guys and the mail people don't come to my door because they are afraid of our dogs. My neighbor across the street always gets our packages. To my dismay, she called me 10 days ago laughing.



"I've got your SHAMWOW! package."

"Jesus Christ", I say



Fucking SHAMWOW! These things are C-R-A-P. What was I thinking? Not to mention that dude on the infommercial is annoying as all hell.



Last week she calls me again - really laughing this time.



"I've got your Aqua Globes."

"Oh, shit, I'll meet you outside."



People? - fucking Aqua Globes. These things are for watering your houseplants. NEWSFLASH!!! I do not have a single houseplant. Not one. Zero. Zilch.



What in the world possessed me to order these gawdy pieces of blown glass? Oh that's right, Coors Light.



I guess I know who's getting some lame-ass Christmas Gifts this year. Sorry family & friends, but the beer made me do it.

Apparently I am going to use the word Apparently a lot in this post.

So, apparently there is some cartoon called Bakugon.
Apparently it is all the rage with young boys/kids.
Apparently my son is a huge fan.
Apparently I am not as good a mother as I thought, because I.had.no.idea.

At the bowling alley Saturday, the Great White Lizard Hunter finds what looks to me like a little black ball. He starts going ape shit yelling Bakugon! Bakugon!

I'm looking at him like he has three heads trying to figure out what he is saying. I ask the Oilybeauhunk if he has a clue. He just shrugs and shakes his head.

You would think the kid found the last golden ticket.

For the rest of the day it was Bakugon Stand! Bakugon Rumble! Bakugon! Bakugon!

Flash forward to Sunday morning. While reading the paper I see an ad for a Bakugon Rumble Arena or something to that effect. Well now my interest is picqued. The Oilybeauhunk and I decide, we are going to go out and get that kid some Bakugon shit toys.

Yeah. Apparently Bakugon is a *HOT* item this year.

Toys-r-us? Sold Out
Wal-Mart? Sold Out
K-Mart? Sold Out
Target? Sold Out
KB Toys? Sold Out

Holy hell.

When we got home from our failed mission I got online.
Apparently I am a glutton for punishment.
The Great White Lizard Hunter will be receiving the $150 Mack Daddy Deluxe Bakugon Starter Pack in the mail within 5-12 days.

Apparently, I am insane.

208 year old Farted Boogers - 6 year old style

We had dinner at Outback recently. (One of our usual places.) The kids menu/coloring book had finally changed. It had one of those stories where you fill in the blanks with verbs, adverbs, exclamations etc. I totally had to keep this one to share, 'cuz damn. The Great White Lizard Hunter is a true American 6 year old. I will type the "story" as is, with his words in color. Enjoy.





It was a snowy day when Scrumper decided to look for games in the Outback. She ran over to her friends's house and on the way stepped in gum, which made her smell like dog poop. Scrumper got to Haiden's house and when the door opened, her friend yelled crap! "Let's go to the Great Barrier Reef," said Scrumper, "so I can wash off my brain." When they arrived at the Great Barrier Reef, they found two shoes that had washed up on shore. This find looked to be 208 years old! After looking at it further, they came to realize that what they found was in fact boogers left over from someone farting!




I had no idea that you could fart boogers!
All hail the 6 year old brain!

A Brand New Day

At the Polling place, I started to feel electric. My hair was standing on end. When I was handed my ballot and moved toward my voter booth to make my choices, I started to cry. I felt so empowered and the importance of this was overwhelming. Since I didn't have any tissues in my purse, I had to do something that I am always yelling at the Great White Lizard Hunter NOT to do. I grabbed the neck of my shirt and wiped the snot from my nose. Classy.


Last night was amazing, and I still get goosebumps thinking about the ramifications of all of it. It is, indeed, a brand new day. I am excited.

Mallory totally ROCKS Halloween!

Last night after trick-or-treating we went downtown to the Halloween Spooktacular. It was a block party full of freaks and geeks and the crowning moment of the event was the band on the main stage.

It was Juliette and the Licks. Hello? Juliette Lewis - Academy Award nominee?

Cape Fear?

Natural Born Killers?

This.Bitch.Kicks.Ass.

People will think you're a real Zombie - with tattoos on you.

That is what the Great White Lizard hunter said to the Oilybeauhunk as we were getting ready for Zombicom '08. Yeah, Zombies don't normally act like they do at Zombicom, I mean, come on, beer drinking, cigarette smoking, dancing to DJ's and general debauchery isn't in the true Zombie tradition, but hey. Apparently, parts of the first, the original, Dawn of the Dead was filmed right here in our little downtown area, so someone thought it would be a good idea to celebrate that fact. Zombicon comes complete with a 2 hour crash course in "how to walk like a Zombie" and free makeup and hair for those who couldn't figure out how to look ugly dead. At midnight, there is a Zombie walk through the streets of downtown. Last year there were about 1,500 people. No word yet as to how many showed up last night, but damn, it was crowded, and it was fun. We let the dogs get in on the fun before we left.

The Oilybeauhunk got creative with his scissors and a blowtorch for our clothes.

There were many a freak there.......awesome!

The Great White Lizard Hunter kinda looks like a deer in the headlights here, but it's just because he was freaking out on the big spider guy.

Yes, that's a cymbal.

Creepy spider guy.

Oh my God - it's Shawn of the Dead - he's gonna take us all out!

It was fun, but we had to leave before the big Zombie walk, because the tree that was holding me up had to go pee, and there was nothing to help me stabilize since draft beer gravity had let me down.

Excellent Injury Thursday #2

We were having a lovely day on the boat (sound familiar?) We stopped at Cayo Costa and I took some awesome pictures. These being some of my favorites:




I even got some of the locals:




Hello Mr. Manatee!





Hello little Sand Pipers!

After a couple hours of relaxing on the island, we packed up and headed into the Sound to do some fishing. Before you ask, yes, duh, we were drinking. We were out on the boat. That is what you do. The Oilybeauhunk and Great White Lizard Hunter were set with their poles and fishing away. Since they were situated, I got up to get my pole. I lost my footing a little bit and fell backwards into the middle of the boat. Where-the-poles-were-standing. Here is the lovely result......




Yeah, that's got three prongs in it. Two are stuck in my arm. The Oilybeauhunk did the only thing he could think of in a drunken panicked state of mind, he grabbed the pliers, I braced myself against the steering wheel, with my beer firmly pressed to my lips, and he yanked that fucker out. Yeah, not really, because you see, at the bottom of that awesome lure are THREE.MORE.HOOKS. When he yanked, those bottom three flipped around and hooked me in the back of the arm. All three of them. Sorry, no pictures of that because that is when I finally lost it. The poor Great White Lizard Hunter was now getting scared because we weren't laughing anymore. He started to cry, so I had to compose myself and convince him that I was alright. I grabbed another beer, slammed it, held on for dear life and told the OBH to GO! During this time he got in the right frame of mind and cut the frigging hooks off first - before the yanking began.

Can you see the rust by the way? Can you say Tetanus shot? When he got the last three out, he wanted to go straight in and go to the hospital. I wasn't done fishing drinking beer, so I said hell no. We moved on to another island and did some shelling, me with my ice-filled fish stained towel tied firmly around my arm. Good Times!





UPDATE: The Oilybeauhunk just realized what I was posting and said that I should be careful because eventually I will run out of injuries to post. I just smiled at him and he gave me 'that look' and said, "Kaila, don't you even dare start doing stupid shit on purpose.!"

I choked on my burp.

The Great White Lizard Hunter told me he was choking. I looked at him....he had strange look on his face.........then he said:

"My burp was too big, it didn't fit in there."

Oh.My.God.

The Egg Timer

Lately, the Great White Lizard Hunter's life is measured only in minutes.

If I tell him we have to leave - "How many minutes?"

If I tell him to get dressed - "How many minutes?"

If I tell him I am cooking dinner - "How many minutes?"

If he goes in the bathroom to take a shit - "Mom, watch the clock tell me how many minutes."


This is never ending. I am tired of the minute game. It doesn't matter how many minutes I tell him, he doesn't have a watch or a clock - not to mention - he doesn't know how to read one anyway!!!


How many more minutes 'til Friday?

How many more minutes 'til Spongebob?

How many minutes is 120 minutes?


Good God. The other day at the grocery store I spotted a cool, red, magnetic egg timer. A light bulb went on above my head. Problem solved.


It seems to be working. I set the timer, put it in his room and tell him how many minutes he has, and explain that when the buzzer goes off - time's up. This morning I didn't have to tell him to finish his breakfast 6 times, and I didn't have to tell him to get his friggin clothes on 12 times. We may be on to something here.


The only problem so far came last night when I was cooking dinner, and I misjudged by more than 10 minutes when it would be done. He had set his timer based on how long I told him until it was ready. Every time I turned around, there he was with a shit-eating grin and that damned timer in his hand. "Mom, the timer says it should be done."

All new Excellent Injury Thursday!

I mentioned in one of my first posts about how awesomely I injure myself. Let me present to you exhibit "A" with a little back story of course.

It was always so sad to see the lesbian dogs' faces when we were getting the boat ready to take out. We never took them with us because......well.......they are unstable.

One weekend we decided to give it a shot. The girls jumped in the jeep with such enthusiasm it was heart warming.

When we got to the dock and launched the boat, the girls jumped right on from the dock. Maybe this was going to be a good thing!

Yeah, right. As soon as the boat started moving down the inlet, Skittish dog started to freak the fuck out. Before we knew it, she jumped over the side and disappeared.

Oilybeauhunk swung the boat around and tried to grab her. She went toward the seawall and disappeared again underneath a 40 foot boat that was docked there. She popped up again on the other side by the seawall that was covered in razor sharp oysters. One of the guys that worked at the marina saw the commotion and came and tried to help. As he was trying to grab her from the seawall OBH yelled at me to jump in after her. Now mind you, I can swim well enough to keep my head above water, but I am in no way a swimmer. When I got to Skittish dog, who kept disappearing under the water, she came at me and pushed me under. Not once, but twice. Now we were both in peril. What a mess. Finally she swam back toward our boat and OBH reached out with one arm and scooped her up. I was helped onto the docked boat by the marina guy.

Even though we were only 20 yards away from the launch ramp, I was ready to call it a day. OBH was having none of it. While all of this had been happening, the other dog, we'll call her Laid Back dog, was getting her sea legs, and digging walking around the deck of the boat, oblivious to the chaos around her.

We headed out toward the coastal islands, and spent a nice afternoon. Skittish dog finally relaxed enough so that it didn't look like her eyes were popping out of her head, but she never once stood up or left the bottom of the boat. Laid Back dog, however, was having a blast. We stopped near one of the beaches, threw anchor and jumped in. Laid Back dog, jumped right in after us and swam around with us. It was pretty cool. We'd put her back on the boat and she would run and jump off again and again. While she was having all this fun, Skittish dog sulked.

We decided to cut their first boating day a little short, and headed back to the marina. When we got there, the dogs were eyeing land like a sailor who has been at sea for a hundred days. We neared the dock and I stepped off the bow onto the dock. Sort of..................

I kinda missed. That picture is from three days later. I couldn't walk for two days. The bruising got much much worse after that. I had managed to separate the fatty tissue that resides between your skin and muscle, and push it up further on my thigh. "Kind of like a cheese grater" is how the orthopedic surgeon explained it. The point of impact, the yellowish area in the pic, is now a big indent and my skin rests directly on my muscle. It is still, two and a half years later, very sensitive.

There you have it, my first example of awesome injuries. There will be more. I am really good at it. Mind you, alcohol is pretty much always involved.

Smart Boy

The GWLH saw that Dunkin Donuts commercial on TV this morning where the woman walks out of her house and grabs a few bills off of the "money tree" in her front yard.





He turned and looked at me and said "don't you wish you had a money tree, Mom?"





"You bet." I answered.





Then the smartest boy on earth said, "Yeah, then we could take the boat out fishing every day."

Overheard at work...

The superintendents are having their weekly meeting with the Director of Construction. It is 4pm in the afternoon. This is what I hear.........

"You don't understand, my cable is out."

"So, they can fix it tomorrow."

"No, there is a very important debate on tonight that I cannot miss."

"But it is on late, like 9pm."

"Well, maybe you should go to California, it will be on at 6pm there."

"You should leave now."

"Wait, maybe you should just go to Europe, it will already be over."


WTF????????? I work with these people.

It was only a sticker

Several years ago I had a bumper sticker on my little Toyota Tercel (hated that car). It was just a simple black background with white letters.


It got me into a little bit of trouble.


I was constantly harassed by cars full of pubescent boys and grown men alike.


I was hollered at by other drivers.


Often they laughed.


Once, while parked in a parking lot next to a nude beach on a private, and very snooty island, someone even left a note on my windshield.


Another time, I was pulled over by the police. They.called.for.backup. What could I have possibly done wrong, I wondered?


After going through the whole license and registration BS and scaring the living shit out of me - they all snickered. I had been pulled over so they could see who had the balls to sport said bumper sticker.


What did the bumper sticker say?

Support Cannibalism

Eat Me

I sold that little car years ago, and sadly was unable to find another bumper sticker like that one. I do however sport a very nice black & white "support ribbon" on my Jeep Wrangler.

It says:

Support Sex, Drugs and Rock & Roll

A girls' gotta grow up a little some time, huh?

This conversation is going in the right direction, No?

Typical afternoon conversation between myself and couple female co-workers. See if you can follow along.

* It started with J talking about her husband's inability to wear pants.

* Which segued into a discussion about whether or not we, as woman, see our significant others differently while suffering from PMS.

* Which segued into a discussion about anger...

* then angry sex...

* then drunk sex...

* then whiskey dick...

* to anal...

* and finally giardia.

The best part was when TP (of the male persuasion) waked in right in time for the segue from drunk sex to whiskey dick. He quickly settled in for the rest of the conversation - but said nothing.

Ask me about our conversations about threesomes. That show Swingtown has our heads spinning!

I'll have a bacon/hot pepper sandwich please.

I have dealt with nothing but idiots today. Amazing Idiots. This one topped the cake....

I went to a sandwich place that rhymes with "tubday". I have to point out that I went through that automated drive-through with the too loud voice that repeats itself over and over. Here is what I ordered:

6" BLT

extra bacon

mayo

hot peppers

I drive up to the window, pay for my BLT, take my sandwich and head back to the office. I get my book, turn on the T.V. and prepare to eat my BLT. As I take the sandwich out of the bag, I realize it feels really light. It looks kinda funny too. I open the bread and what do you think I saw? Refer to my order above. In between the bread there was bacon, mayo and hot peppers. Where's the freaking L & T??? Luckily "tubday" is less than a mile from the office, so I get back in the hot car, drive back to the shop and plop that sandwich on the counter with my receipt. I say "I didn't get what I ordered." Stupid sandwich girl says, "I can only put on the sandwich what is on the paper."

"Yes, and I ordered a BLT."

again, "I can only put on the sandwich what is on the paper."

"It says '1 BLT' a BLT is bacon, lettuce & tomato, it is called a BLT because that is what is ON IT. It already implies that there is bacon, lettuce and tomato on the sandwich."

She looks at me with a blank stare - empty - STUPID - while she puts lettuce and tomato on the sandwich.

It was like a bad comedy skit

"Can I take your order?"

"Yes, I'll have a BLT."

"And what would like on your BLT, ma'am?"

"Call me crazy but I'm gonna have bacon, lettuce & tomato on that bacon, lettuce & tomato sandwich."

"Coming right up."

I mean come on!!!! Ignorance really must be bliss.

Mutherfucker

Once upon a time I had satellite radio in my jeep.


I was addicted to the comedy station.


GWLH was 4 yrs old.


I picked him up from daycare.


I forgot to change the station.


I wasn't really paying attention.


He was babbling about his "busy" 4 year old day.


Did I mention I wasn't really paying attention?


Then I heard his sweet little voice say this:





"Motherfucker, that's a bad word."





I never forgot to change the station again.

Introducing the lesbian dogs

Misty Blue & Stormy Heather - they are sooo gay.

That was the pre-makeout session.

Then they totally use tongue.

Tropical Storm Fay Sunset

These are a little late, because I am lazy, but they are coooool!