Tuesday, October 8, 2013

Pinterest fail. Stay at home date night ideas edition.

I’m  ready to fully admit that I’m a proud Pinterest user. I think it can be an incredibly useful tool for people like me, who from time to time, can’t come up with an original idea to save their lives. It’s a form of social media that is much easier to weed out the crap you don’t feel like being spammed with, as opposed to Facebook. However, every now and then a lame ass pin will slip through the cracks and demand your attention.  Sort of like the little kid in grade school that always smelled like he just shit his pants, but was totally insistent that you played with him at recess. The more you ignored him, the more he ran around you, wafting the smell of fresh shit in his underroos until you just gave in suggested a lovely game of hide-n-seek.

Yeah, it’s just like that.

This is what slipped through the cracks.

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I’ll be the first to admit that I’m not your run-of-the-mill chick. I’d rather watch Soprano’s reruns, than watch The Notebook (sorry Ryan. You’re still hot though.) I’d prefer to listen to gansta rap than listen to sappy love songs. I don’t need my husband to reassure me constantly or hold my hand in public. Basically, I’m pretty much a man, with a couple of key differences, anatomically speaking.

So naturally, when I saw the above pin in my feed, I was all “The fuck?” It reeked of shit, just like that grade school boy, and it demanded my attention. Out of sheer curiosity I clicked the pin to see what was inside, and I immediately thought to myself “Is this real life?”

I won’t go through all 32 stay at home date ideas, because frankly I’d rather stick my dogs paw up my ass, and that would just be bizarre and probably somewhat painful. I will only list a select few of these ideas, as I would surely lose reader interest otherwise.

1. Play “would you rather”. 

Uh, lets not. I can totally see how that would play out around here.

Brent“Would you rather clean the entire house naked (bonus points if you wear titty tassels) while you simultaneously cook me a 5 course meal , OR would you rather play with my balls?” Then he would point to the 13 balls Blake has scattered around the living room floor.

2. Watch a sports game together.

Fuck that. Did a man come up with this genius list?

3. Decorate mugs for each other. “You can pick up mugs at the dollar store and decorate it. It will be a fun reminder of how much you love each other.”

Seriously? I would just draw a huge penis on his mug, and it would look like a 4 yr old drew it, because I suck at crafty shit. How would that remind him of how much I love him exactly?

4. Make marshmallow guns and have a marshmallow fight.

I’m fairly certain if I’m staying home with my husband on a “date night” he would most likely come up with something else for me to blow on, other than an old piece of PVC pipe from Lowes. We also aren’t 5. No offense.

5. Host a book club. “Check out two copies of the same book and discuss it as you read it.”

Great. Our date night has turned into Oprah’s book club now. That’s hot.

Do people really do this stuff?  Do they ENJOY these types of activities? Am I abnormal? Are there groups of men suffering through this shit on a regular basis? Because if they are, I feel like we need to help them. Maybe make a commercial or something. We can scroll pictures of their sad, defeated faces as a melancholy Sarah McLachlan tune plays in the background.

I suppose I shouldn't be sexist. Maybe there are men out there who are suggesting these very ideas to their wives. Who knows? All I know is that I’m extremely thankful that I’m not married to one of them.

Wednesday, October 2, 2013

Dear Diary, there goes another one.

I feel as though I should apologize to you, dear diary, for not writing in so long, just as I did when I was a child. I mean, apologizing to some inanimate object  with no awareness of time seemed like a logical thing to do back in the day.  Luckily I’m a grown woman, and I no longer do such inane things.

Anyway, things have taken a turn for the worse around here. At first I thought it was just a lone incident. Maybe an illness that was real, but perhaps somewhat “stretched” to seem worse than it actually was. Men are real pussies when they’re sick. I should know, I’ve dealt with enough sick men to realize that.

We had just eaten ice cream. He had blueberry cheesecake, and I had chocolate laced with thick peanut butter ribbons that would just melt in my mouth instantly. Suddenly he got up out of bed looking a bit concerned, and retreated to the bathroom. It was the perfect time to steal some of his blueberry ice cream.

It was better than mine. Shit!

“What’s your problem?!” I yelled from the bedroom, between quick bites of his ice cream.

No answer.

Later he emerged looking tired. The kind of look that women have in the movies after they’ve just given birth. He told me he threw up, and I was secretly jealous that his ice cream calories didn’t count.

Dick.

Then I realized that I had been eating from his tainted ice cream, and that it was only a matter of time.

The night came and went without incident. Neither of us got much sleep. I kept imagining all of his contaminated microbes flying around the room with each exhale, coating every surface in our room, including me. Threating to enter my body, and make me throw up, and piss out my ass. Yes, that was a new symptom now. “GI”-joe, fucking up shit internally. A real American hero.

I realized I had to put on my proverbial scrubs, and play nurse again. Yay. I gave him medication to make his symptoms more bearable, (i.e. something that would make him a productive member of society again, hopefully) and I made him drink fluids to avoid dehydration. Ain’t nobody got time fo dat!

He began looking alive again, and I saw the light at the end of the tunnel. My partner in crime was almost back! My aptly timed, bulimic ice cream eating buddy was back! Finally, I can take these shitty proverbial scrubs off and just live, because nothing annoys me more than having to nurse a man who doesn’t take directions well. At least I can curse this patient out without fear of getting “written up”. I was the boss.

Just when things were looking up, Taylor came home from school. She barely said hello, and went straight upstairs, which was odd. I later went upstairs to see what she was up to. I took one look at her, and realized that she had the same pale look that Brent had only hours earlier.

Shit. Another man down.

I donned a new pair of proverbial scrubs and called housekeeping for a “terminal clean” on my entire house STAT! As luck would have it, I just picked up my proverbial housekeeping outfit from the cleaners last week.

 

Saturday, May 11, 2013

School is in session. Now where’s my gift?

Well, summer is drawing near and you know what that means. If you have kids, they will soon be out of school and at home annoying the living shit out of you. Most people would find that to be somewhat of a depressing thought. However, I’m fucking ecstatic about it, and I’m about to tell you why.

First of all, let me state for the record that I love teachers… most of them. I have friends who are teachers, and I have family members who are teachers. Fundamentally, I think what they do for a living is hard work. I say that because when I attempt to explain something to my kids, and they don’t get it the first or second time around, I have have a notion to get really snippy and somewhat short. Hard to believe, I know…

Teaching is an extremely noble profession that I highly respect, and I’m thankful that there are people out there that can teach my children what I can’t. Even when I used to play teacher as a little kid, I sucked at it. I chastised this make believe kid, Henry for being such a tool on a daily basis.  Henry hated me, and I hated him because he was stupid and never understood my lessons. Not to mention he always talked without raising his hand, and he disrupted the class often. Looking back, he probably had ADHD and just needed to be medicated.  His parents were also assholes because they never brought me teachers gifts.

Which oddly enough, brings me to my main complaint. I’m not sure if it’s the location in which we live, or if times are a changin’, but I’m considering pimping Brent out to help cushion the yearly teacher gift giving fund around here.

You see, every year it happens. There is this one persistent and annoying room Mom that gains access to your email address, and then she will continue to suck you absolutely dry of all your money throughout the year for various things.

“It’s Thanksgiving!! Let’s show so and so how thankful we are she’s teaching our kids.”

It’s Christmas- Let’s make so and so feel special because it’s baby Jesus’s birthday!”

“Hey, it’s Valentines! Throw so and so some dolla dolla bills, y’all! We LOOOOOVE her!”

“Okay folks, it’s veterans day. So and so isn’t a veteran, but fuck it, seems like a legit excuse to give her a gift anyway!

“Hey, it’s so and so’s birthday next month. If you would like to pitch in on buying her a gift just let me know! I’ll reach out to you all again every 1.5 days until you fucking crack open that wallet, bitch”

“Oh hey there, we know you already paid for your child’s school supplies at the beginning of the year, but if you can pitch in and purchase these 50 things so we can re-stock the classroom, that would be great!”

“Hey, it’s teachers appreciation WEEK!!! You know what that means. . .  $$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$“

“Hi again, Mrs. so and so has been constipated lately, and consequently her asshole is the size of a manhole cover. Can we all pitch in to buy her some tucks pads, proctofoam, a Block Buster rental card, and a gift card to Whole Foods so that she can buy organic greens to increase the roughage in her diet? Anything you can contribute over $50 would be greatly appreciated”

“Hi everyone. End of the year is drawing near, and I think it would be nice to get so and so a gift  for her to enjoy during her entire fucking paid summer off. How about it?”

I think you all get my point.

I clearly went in the wrong line of work, even given the fact that I have zero patience with most children, but more importantly, “challenging” children. I find that most children who aren’t MINE to be challenging, by the way.

Even so, I’m beginning to think that I could fake it for all the free shit I could accrue throughout the school year. I figure 23 kids per class, equal a lot of  decent shit even with the few Mom’s that strictly bring in failed homemade Pinterest el’ cheapo gifts that I would automatically throw in the trash.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a frugal person who’s opposed to doing nice gestures for someone who’s educating my children, but as we near the end of the year my thoughts on the subject are enough is enough. All of this tomfoolery is cutting into my god damned nail polish fund! more on that later

Anybody remember that old movie where the kid is riding around on his bike while stalking the same people, saying “I want my two dollars!!” Well, that’s essentially how I see the room mom. If summer means never hearing from her ass again, then bring it on!

Friday, April 5, 2013

Helpful life tips from my darling daughter

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Every now and then as a parent you come across something that is a potential gold mind for future use against your kids. My offspring love to write in journals and draw, especially Taylor. Imagine my excitement when Aidan let it be known that he had stumbled across one of Taylor’s book of tips.

I immediately grabbed the small leather bound book and began reading intently as if it were a New York Times best seller, or midget porn. To my surprise, this girl is a regular Dear Abby! If I ever had any lingering doubts if I was raising my daughter to be a bright, independent, and self-assured young lady, I could rest assured that I was.

Since I’m a giving kind of gal, I fully intend on sharing a few of Taylor’s tips with you all. Feel free to share them with your friends, because we all have a few friends that need a tip or two.

There were over 30 tips in her book, from everything to hair care, to skin care, to health care. I’ve only chosen to showcase four of the most important tips here on the blog today. Judging from her handwriting, these tips were not written recently, however, they will be applicable for years to come.

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Here we have tip number 7. “Make-up is supposed to ENHANCE your features, not give you new ones. Wear natural colors.” 

Now this is a fine tip that I wish she would share with some of her middle school peers. Some days when I drop Taylor off at school, I witness several girls channeling their inner drag queen. I’ve never seen so much glitter, eyeliner, and contouring in my life.

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Tip number 12 is also very wise. “Don’t shave unless you know how. You’ll end up ripping off your skin.”

Unfortunately Taylor learned this tip the hard way. She shaved off about a pound and a half of skin from her shin when she took it upon herself to shave without consulting me first. She evidently learned her lesson by later shaving off half of her eyebrow this past summer. I’m pretty sure I blogged about that as well.

My absolute favorite tip out of the whole book would be tip number 20.

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“Don’t wear low-cut shirts or super short shorts. Dress in a not wh**e-like fashion.”

Dressing like a whore is a big no no in this house. I often have little chats with Taylor about dressing and acting like a lady. I know it’s hard to imagine that shit going on around here, but I want to attempt to give her the best start at life. Walking around with her crotch hanging out of her shorts isn’t something that’s going to help her achieve her life goals, Unless her goal is to be a little hooker, which thankfully it’s not at this point. I’m just glad to see that it sunk in.

Let’s move on to our final tip. Tip number 31.

Taylortips3

“Don’t hang out with people just to be popular. When you’re older you would much rather have memories of good friends. You can be friends with them just don’t hang out with them to be popular.”

Now this is some wise shit right here. It’s so wise I don’t even need to expound on it.

Now I’m going to give all of you parents a tip. Just the tip, so don’t be scared.

Don’t EVER throw this kind of stuff away. Keep it until your kids are much older so that you can all look back and laugh. This kind of stuff is priceless!