On hiatus

February... it's just not my month. Three years ago, I lost my unborn son. I remember standing at the window of the hospital, watching the rain. I thought, you know, it was the perfect weather for the day. I liked hearing the thunder as I fell asleep that night. It mirrored what I felt inside myself. The next day, the nurse brought me a decorated tray, all done up with heart napkins. They even put a valentine on there. "Someone loves you..." I was too numb at the time to be upset about it. I remember smirking at the thought of it all.

I don't do Valentine's Day. I don't want to see hearts, I am not going to get caught up in Valentine memes or any of that. In fact, I'm kind of burnt out. I'm taking the next month off. I need a break from this for awhile. Those of you that sent me stuff for That's So Wrong, I promise, I will put it all up when I come back. And I'll still be around, you know? I just need some "me" time for awhile.

Anyway, I luff you guys. I'll miss you.

Pogo

Am I the only one feeling the strain from Pogo? In a couple of days, I won't be allowed to play the Members only games. Damn it. They want me to pay for it!? Damn. Sigh. I might just have to give in. Those games are so damn addictive.

I feel like crying. But I won't. Because that's just sad.

Pogo.com, why hast thou forsaken me?

A Pen is

A pen is - mightier than a sword.

A pen is - a wonder of nature.

A pen is - for all the times she asked for diamonds and you brought her hot wings.

A pen is - for saying sorry.

A pen is - for saying "I love you."

A pen is - for me to adore.

A pen is - good for nicknaming.

A pen is - suprisingly strong at times and weak at others.

A pen is - always there for you.

A pen is - made for comfort.

A pen is - good for squirting people.

Remember, it's not how big the pen is - it's how you use it. (And if you think I just spent all this time writing about pens, YOU'RE WRONG.)

That's So Wrong

I didn't get too many pictures this time. I tried to get some on here that wouldn't work before. Somehow, I got them to work this time.


Those aren't t-shirts.


Don't look under the bed.

Why it's good to learn english.

Video Links

Gun Prank

Horse wants to give his opinion on the interview.

Never leave a pile of bricks lying around.

Message board hijinks.

Bush like 'em bald.

This week's entry is dedicated to all the contributors: Celeste, Lahoma and Chris.

So tagged!

First of all, let me say that I crack me up. I guess I can pretty much count on me not growing up for awhile given that I got one of my catch phrases as a secret sentence over at Charles' blog. The thing about it is that I had to think of a sentence and I caught myself saying that phrase, so I emailed it to him, thinking there's no way he'd ever use it. BUT HE DID!!!!!!! And that's why Charles rocks and is getting pimped today. I luffs teh Charles! He put new music on his blog and it's fantastic. I love that kind of stuff. So I just left his blog window open, so I could finish listening to it. Did I mention Charles and I will start our own super villain gang, if the world were ever to change? Yes, I don't know what I'd be, but Doppleganger is the man!

I've been tagged. Before I get to it, though, can you imagine if Cousin It were to ever play tag?

"You're it!"

"I know."

This is the effect of having waaaaaaay too much time on one's hands. Where do I come up with this stuff?

Promise has tagged me for a questionnaire type thingie.


1) What is your middle name? Camile. Pronounced Camille, but they misspelled my birth certificate. Story of my life.
2) What size is your bed? King
3) What are you listening to? Charles blog.
4) What are the last two digits of your phone # ? No comment.
5) What is the last thing you ate? A hot pocket.
6) Last person you hugged? My son
7) How is the weather right now? Cold with a touch of "as hell".
8) Who was the last person you talked to on the phone? My husband
9) What's the first thing you notice about the opposite sex? Eyes. Windows to the soul.
10) Do you have a bf/gf ? I don't have a boyfriend, because I'm married. I don't have a girlfriend, because my Chris might like that too much.
11) --- whoops ---lol Where is number 11? Gone. I killed it with a roundhouse kick.
12) Do you drink? Nope!
13)Have you ever gotten so drunk that you don't remember the entire nite? Can you say Southern Comfort, Jack Daniels and some sort of wine cooler mixer? Yeah, I thought you could.
14)Hair color? Brown
15) Eye color? Green
16) Fav baseball team? Whichever one I'm watching.
17) Fav animal? Unicorn.
18) Favorite season? Spring.
19) Ever cried for no reason? Every month.
20) Last movie you watched? The Island, very good, too. Right up my alley.
21) What book are you reading? I ran out of books to read.
22) Piercings? Two in my left lobe, two in my right and I used to have one in cartilidge of my left ear, but I think that one closed up.
23) Favorite movie? ...tch fine. Flashdance. Shut up.
24) Fav college team? I am going to stay true to myself and say exactly what I said to the billing department of ISU. I hope all colleges and universities go down in a huge fiery ball of flame for charging their students the amount that they charge them. No, I don't have a fucking favorite college team! I hate college!
25) What are you doing right now? I am being pissed over the last question.
26) Pets? Sasha and Angel.
27) Dog or cats? Dogs.
28) Favorite flower? Orchid.
29) Have you ever been caught doing something you weren't supposed to be doing? Daily.
30) Have you ever loved someone? What kind of question is this? "Have you ever fallen asleep? Have you ever eaten chicken?!" Yes, I love many people. Not all at once though, because I just don't have the time.
31) Who would you like to see right now? A naked Wentworth Miller
32) Are you still friends with your ex's? Nope.
33) Have you ever fired a gun? No, but I do have a gunshot hole in my kitchen floor.
34) Do you like to travel by plane? Yes.
35) Right handed or left handed? Right.
36) If you could be with someone right now, who would it be? I already told you. A naked Wentworth Miller. (Bring it, Chris.)
37) How many pillows you sleep with? I am not in the habit of having sex with pillows.
38) Are you missing someone? Yes.
39) Do you have a tattoo? No.
40) Do you watch cartoons on Sat. mornings? No, I watch them in the evening.
41) Are you hiding something from someone? Why do you ask?
42) Do you play an instrument? Learning piano, slowly, very slowly. Oh oh oh I can play the Ari harmonica. And man can SHE sing! All you gotta do is blow. (I crack me up.)

Heather tagged me as well.

Fifteen years ago, I:

1. Was thirteen.
2. Was in eighth grade.
3. Got big boobs.
4. Discovered that men do leer at girls who are thirteen. *eck*
5. Was very shy.

Ten years ago, I:

1. Stopped being shy.
2. Started college.
3. Dreamed of being a psychologist.
4. Wore make-up and did my hair every single day.
5. Thought I was smarter than everyone else.

Five years ago, I:

1. Knew I was smarter than everyone else.
2. Lived in Michigan.
3. Got baptised.
4. Moved to Quincy.
5. Learned that little boys can be very destructive.

Three years ago, I:

1. Lost a son.
2. Found out that I really don't know a damn thing.
3. Figured out who my real friends were.
4. Realized that life is precious.
5. Struggled through severe depression.

One year ago, I:

1. Started a journal.
2. Found my voice.
3. Learned to love to write.
4. Realized that humor helps us through.
5. Accepted that what will be, will be.

Four months ago, I:

1. Had my seventh wedding anniversary.
2. Dedicated a whole month's worth of entries to my Chris.
3. Lost a Vivi. I'm still bitter. (Losahs Unite!)
4. Learned just vain and egocentric I really am.
5. Realized that not everyone can take my humor.

Yesterday, I:

1. Played Sly Cooper with my son.
2. Had a blast doing it.
3. Failed to see why a salad could not be eaten without ranch dressing.
4. Kissed my Chris.
5. Heard my mother quote a woman off television by saying something about "I need to reproduce before my eggs rot!"

Today, I:

1. Realize just how far I've come.
2. Know that I couldn't have gotten where I am today without all the wonderful people in my life.
3. Probably won't finish the laundry.
4. Am writing in this blog.
5. Love me.

Tomorrow, I:

1. Will still love me.
2. Will probably kiss my Chris again.
3. Will learn something new.
4. Will forget it by evening.
5. Will do That's So Wrong. (Shameless plug)
6. Will dream those little dreams.

I tag Char, Charles, Promise, Heather (Promise and Heather are tagged to do the one they haven't done) and Galen and Tawnya. Oh and Chris, too.

Level up

The funny thing about life is that sometimes, when you really look back, it's all about the people along the way. Each individual person can leave their mark on you, changing the reality of what it is to be you. A memory, an impression, a belief, if reflected on often enough can impact who you are. Each of us has this capacity.

When I think back to various stages of my life, I remember not only the key people in that era, but also random people I've met along the way. Whether it be the fat kid on the playground that later became a high school football hero, or a stranger I saw one afternoon, if I've remembered them, then it must've been important. It must've somehow left a mark on me.

Here I am at twenty-eight. In a few months, that number will change. When you're in your twenties, you can still have a childish mentality and not really be worried about it, because hey, you're in your twenties. But thirty is right around the corner. The big 30 is a magical number. In my head, it's the number that means that, Ari, you need to grow up. Maybe that's the time when I can shine. Maybe that's the time when I can start impacting people the way that others have impacted me. Don't get me wrong, I'm sure I've left marks on people throughout my twenties. It's just that, chances are, those were silly, random things. Nothing philosophical, nothing mind-bending. Just pinkalicious panties and catchy phrases. Not that there's anything wrong with that... but I've got to grow up.

The last thing I want is to have my legacy titled "Spank Me Pink". I wonder if anyone remembers that one. Hehe.

I have all the stages of my life planned out, I think. Twenties are about having fun. In your thirties, that's more of an explorative phase. Forties is about saying "Fuck it, I'll do whatever I want." And fifties is about wishing you were in your twenties again. Whatever comes after that is miscellaneous catch-all area where I will pursue anything I didn't in the other stages. This works for me. Err, well, it will work for me once I get to those phases.

Weird. Now that I've written all that, I sort of feel like Doogie Howser typing away. This growing up thing is hard.

I was arrogant in my past life

I totally just stole this from Chuck. I clicked on the link and this is what it said:

You Were an Eagle

You are able to rise above the details of life and see the big picture. A spiritual being, you tend to go beyond material concerns.

What Animal Were You In a Past Life?

An eagle!? Who wants to be an eagle? Pffffft, that's no good. So I kept clicking on it until I found just the one I wanted.

You Were A Jaguar

A shapeshifter that understands the patterns of chaos. You are powerful and move without fear in dark places.

What Animal Were You In a Past Life?

There, that's much better.

He brought it

My Chris came home from work early yesterday.

"Would you make me some coffee?" he asked.

"No, I will not. Make it your damn self," I said as I went to make him coffee.

After a few minutes, he came back inside the house and asked, "Would you come help me load the bike into the trailer?"

"No! Load it in there yourself!" I said, as I put my shoes on to go help him load the bike onto the trailer.

"Hand me those bungee cords," he said.

"No," I shot back, as I handed him the bungee cords.

"You're seriously going to get it, Erika."

Oooh, he said my full name.

"Bring it on, old man, bring it on."

I saw him raise to his full height, his back to me and slowly turn around.

"Old man, huh?"

Now, I'm not going to explain what happened next. I don't even know if I can explain it, as I believe the events of what happened next made me lose a few brain cells and left me in a mind-shattering-I-think-a-part-of-me-died-floated-up-and-touched-a-piece-of-heaven state.

And now I know why Michelangelo painted Adam in this pose:

That's what touching heaven feels like.

I might have to not make his coffee for the rest of the week. We'll see how this goes.

I am not Gordon Ramsy

These past two days have been like hitting the jackpot as far as Chris and I are concerned. American Idol and celebrity skating? Wonderful. Priceless. We've been whipping out one liners as fast as they come. Which no one else would probably get, but we make each other giggle, so it's all good.

So we're sitting there, making fun of people on tv, because this is the stuff we do together. For some reason, I like to sit with my legs underneath me, so that my feet are near him. I'm weird. He reached down and started playing with my toes. What the hell? He kept taking my second toe and kept bending it up and down. I could feel the bone popping.

"Quit playing with my toes!"

"But they're so little!"

Oh, great. More short jokes. I am 5'4" tall. I don't think that's too short. I mean I know I'm not that tallest person, but I am not the shortest, either. That being said, I am constantly reminded of my height. The toilets at home are just my size. I can sit on them just fine. At my mother's, it's a different story. To this day, when I sit on her toilet, my feet still dangle over the edge. I swear, this thing is like Paul Bunyan's toilet seat. It's tall as hell. I'm twenty-eight! It's ridiculous that my feet still don't touch the floor if I go to the bathroom at my mother's house. Ridiculous, I say. It's like climbing Mt. Everest. I just have to pee, that's all! I don't even have to do number 2! Feet don't fail me now!

You know what else? Creamer, that's what. My Chris loves french vanilla creamer. So does the rest of the population of Quincy. I swear, they should sell this shit on the street corners. It's a struggle to get it whenever I go shopping. You have to get there early. All the old people are up early and sneak into the shops before me to take all the creamer. And let's just pretend that on some odd chance, there is a whole bunch of creamer there waiting for me to buy. I'd buy as much as possible, because there is no way I'm dealing with my Chris sans creamer. He's a bear without it. But that never happens. There's always one or two containers of creamer there on the shelf and wouldn't you know it? It's pushed all the way back on the top shelf. So my short ass has to climb on the damn bottom of the freezer to reach up there and try to get it. The shit I do for my boys. Yes, I climb like a monkey on the freezers of the grocery store, just to get creamer. This is true love, folks. The proof doesn't get any better than this.

It's been experiment week here, when it comes to dinners. My boys hate experiment week. I have come up with some pretty nausea producing combinations in my lifetime. Turkey fajitas were never a good idea. I do pretty well on my own, when it comes to thinking up new ideas for recipes. It's the recipes from others that the boys have problems with. I received a recipe book from Kraft a few days ago. So I went about getting all the things I'd need for experiment week.

The first recipe was a mac & cheese/ salsa dinner. Let's be real here. We are carnivores in this lil household of mine. We are not omnivores. Carnivores. Meat. Good. So making a dish without meat is blasphemous. I added polish sausage to it. It was ok. It could've used more salsa, but to be honest, it just wasn't that impressive.

The second recipe was a citrus beef roast. I always thought the trick to a good cook was being able to incorporate fruit into a meat dish and have it come out all right. I was excited to make this one. I was rooting for this roast. To be honest, I thought it was pretty good. The boys salivated over the smell that wafted through the house. It smelled divine. Unfortunately, the boys didn't think it tasted so divine. So that one wasn't a winner, either. It was the first time I'd cooked a roast, though. Yay, for me. I'm learning new things.

Third recipe was patty melts. I'm not going into this one, because they were nasty. Gross. Kade loved it. Strange kid.

Tonight I'm making chicken cordon bleu. I've never made it before, but my Chris says he loves it. I'm hoping this one works. We're on day four of experiment week and so far, we have no keepers.

This housewife thing is ridiculously hard. What pleases one person doesn't please the next. And you get paid in hugs and kisses. That's always nice. I like that part to be honest. But Kohl's doesn't accept hugs and kisses, no matter how good I tell them they are. It's a shame. It's a damn shame.

That's So Wrong

Ok, I have a few things to say before we get into this week's entry. I finally got off my lazy ass and did the feedblitz thing, so you can subscribe to my blog if you want to receive an update alert. Also, if someone can tell me how to get gifs/bmps to work, I would appreciate it. Let's roll.

Ooooh, naughtay!

A huge what for entertaining?! Oh Shirley.

My favorite kind of flavor.

This is why being a lead rider ain't all it's cracked up to be.

It must be fantastic, even cows hang out there.

The baby's on the sauce.

Leftover holiday picture, nice... bow.

How in the hell?

The funniest part of this picture isn't the two people riding this contraption, it's the guy behind them in the blue coat that is all leaning in for a closeup. Pervert.

I luffs teh Jodi!

Ghetto booties unite!

Santa never left me this kind of present...

Video Links

Cellphones and toys

Why you shouldn't pass out in college

Why you shouldn't try to impress your friends in college

Forget college, you should have learned this in grade school!

This week's entry dedicated to the contributors: Debbie, Jodi, Chris and Stephaine. For once, my Chris didn't send me anything. *pouty face*

Ghetto Booty

I'd just like to say that I talked to my mother about writing this entry before I wrote it. That's my little disclaimer. With that said, let's move on.




My mother has a ghetto booty. These are not my words. This is a bad picture (unfocused), but it's the only one I have that illustrates my mother's bum. She has a serious ghetto booty, folks.

My mother sells car parts. As you have already guessed, this is a particularly male dominated field. So when she sells parts, there are lots of males around... staring at her butt. After waiting on a few customers, she stood behind the counter to wait on yet another male. She asked what he wanted, she told him to follow her so she could get it. That meant coming out from behind said counter. And when she did, this is what followed:

"Now I know why those guys were staring at you so bad!!!" said her latest customer, "You've got a ghetto booty!"

Mom just laughs and rolls her eyes heavenwards when someone says something like that, but let's be real here. I'm my mother's daughter. That means that I, too, could be on the fast track to ghetto bootydom.

This requires serious thought.

And no, I will not post a picture of my ass, thank you very much.

Lessons from Kade

It all started on the ride down to St. Louis.

Kade - You know Ruby Bridges?

Now we were on a bridge when he said this.

Me - No, this isn't the Ruby Bridge, I don't know the name of this bridge.

Kade - No, not a bridge, I mean, Ruby Bridges. You know, Ruby Bridges.

Me - No, honey, I don't know. A person?

Kade - Yes, she's still alive.

Me - Who's still alive?

Kade - RUBY BRIDGES.

Me - Okay hon, I got that part, but I don't know who she is.

Kade - You know, Ruby Bridges, the little girl.

Me - Hon, you have to explain. Did she do something notable? I don't recognize the name, sweetie.

Kade - Remember back when white people and black people hated each other?

Me - Uh, ok... ooh yes! I'm with you now! She was the first black student to go to a white school, yes?

Kade - Yes! Ruby Bridges.

I felt like the biggest jerk for not knowing her name. I was taught Rosa Parks, Harriet Tubman and the underground railroad (in earlier times), Martin Luther King Jr. and even a bit of Malcolm X (albeit sparingly, lest the teachers accidently promote violence, big roll eyes there.) but I don't remember being taught Ruby Bridges. I learn something new everyday. The good thing is that since my seven year old son made me feel like an ass, I'm not likely to forget her name ever.

Since this is Martin Luther King Jr. Day (ya'll better OBSERRRRRRRRRVE, as K1 would say), and since next month is Black History month, Kade's class has done some studying. Now kids understand a lot of things. They often express it in naive terms, but they do understand. Awhile back, The Tuskegee Airmen was on and we watched it, because it's a war movie and war movies get played relentlessly in my house. I remember we watched the one scene where the guy comes off of duty, having served his country, only to be presented by a sign that that designated that whites go right and blacks go left. Kade asked why that was so. I explained it to him. I could never accurately describe the look of disgust that came across his face.

Don't get me wrong, racism still exists, I know. But the world is different to my son and his friends. He and his best friend, maybe they are sheltered, maybe if they lived in a bigger city, it would not be so different to them. Maybe in a different time, a different place, they would not even be allowed to be best friends. But the other day, I was confronted with my son and his best friend who came to ask me what the "n word" meant. They heard it on the playground and THEY DID NOT KNOW WHAT IT MEANT. For that, I was grateful. I explained to them both that whoever said it was not a friend and it was not a nice word, never appropriate to say.

Sometimes, it's better to see the world through a child's eyes. My son told me there were no black people. There were no white people. There were brown and peach people though. But in the end, they were all just people.

And I smiled.

Chuck E. Cheese

I just woke up. I'm exhausted, but it's a good kind of exhaustion. It's the kind of exhaustion that happens when you drive to St. Louis and all the surrounding areas, take grandkids to Chuck E. Cheese, then drive home. It was great.

Yes, they call me Grandma. I don't even mind it. In fact, it's so cute when they do it. We had all five of them, plus Kade. I'm TIRED. But I got some great conversation pieces to relate to you guys. We call the oldest, Kayla, K1 and Kade is K2, because even though he's her uncle, he's younger than she is. She lets him know this. Lil Brandon is B2, because his father is B1. Are you confused yet? Ciera is C1, while her sister Caitlin is C2. And then there's Andrew. I suppose if you think about it, I could be A1 while he could be A2, but none of them call me Ari, so we just call him Andrew.

Car conversation:

B2: Hey Kade, scoot over!
K1: That's not Kade, that's K2, because I'm older than him.
K2: You may be older, but I'm still your uncle.
B2: Yeah, but you're so little!
K1: Oh yeah, the only reason you're taller, Brother B, is because you got that big ole afro goin' on.
K2: What's an afro?
B2: Shut up, my hair looks good. I AM lookin' good. I was the best looking baby out of all of us. Just ask Grampa, I'm his favorite.
K1: No, you're not! I'm the favorite! You can just call me Beautiful. That's my new name, Beautiful.
B2: Yeah? Well, I was the biggest baby when I was born. I weighed nine whole pounds!
My Chris: That's not a baby, that's a bowling ball.
B2: See? Grampa loves me. That's why he spoils me so much.
K1: He spoils me too!
K2: I don't have school on Monday! It's Martin Luther King's birthday!
B2: I don't have school, either.
K1: Me neither, but no one does, because that's the day everyone observes Martin Luther King's birthday! Did you hear me? Ya'll better OBSEERRRRRRRRRRRRRVE!

That's about the time we had to put an Eminem cd in so that the kids would quiet down a bit. There is nothing more relaxing then hearing three kids rap the same lyrics over and over. I thought Kade was the only kid that loved and knew all the words to that one particular song that makes fun of Michael Jackson, but I was wrong. All three adore that song. It must be a kid thing.

Ciera and Caitlin are far more dainty and reserved that K1, K2 and B2. They're the youngest. I think they just haven't found their voice, yet, but when they do, watch out. Andrew is a doll. Everytime he won tickets, he'd come show me, and I'd refill his little cup with tokens. I was surprised at how outgoing he is. This was the first time we'd met him, but it was like we'd been visiting him forever. What a sweetheart. C1 and C2 were a bit more shy, but I figure, now that we know how to keep in touch with them, that will eventually fade.

All in all, we had loads of fun. LeDonna never fails to crack me up. As soon as I get the photo, I'll show you. I hope they took the photo! All the kids were on the couch waiting for their picture, my Chris decides he wants to be in the picture too, so he lays across all their laps. LeDonna (B2's Mom) put her finger near Chris' butt, making it look like she was going to poke him. Suddenly, without warning, Chris leapt off the couch, asking the kids, "Were you going to spank me or something?!" He has that butt radar. He knows if something gets near his butt. LeDonna and I laughed our asses off.

I can't wait until summer, so we can take all the kids camping. Right now, though, I'm tired. So, I'm gonna go relax... No Eminem songs, though.

My new catchphrase

Conjunction Junction, what's your function?

I am changing the meaning of this little phrase, oh yes I am. It will no longer be about asking what the heck a conjunction does, but rather asking what the function is of whomever or whatever I decide it to. For example, if I were to ask what Hillary Clinton's purpose in life was, I'd say Conjunction Junction, what's Hillary's function?! Seriously... what is her function? I think she's a robot.

Anyway, this isn't about Hillary. It's about my new catchphrase. So other than my example of Mrs. Clinton, my first assassination with this catchphrase will be:

Drumroll, please

This guy:

Conjunction junction, what's THIS guy's function?!

Dopplegangers and defying gender roles

While going through pictures today, I was yet again, made aware of the two versions of my Chris. There is the summer my Chris and the winter my Chris.

The summer my Chris shaves his head to be cooler. By cooler, I mean less hot and not more hip. The effect of shaving his head makes him look meaner. I call this look the "Stone Cold" Chris. You can see the resemblance for yourself.











Stone Cold Steve Austin Vs. My Chris



Don't get me wrong, I don't think my Chris could ever take down Stone Cold in a battle, but he'd have you believing he could, if you asked him.

Then there is the winter my Chris, who curiously enough, also has an alter ego. I call the winter look (which is the version he is in now) the "Alan Jackson" Chris. And also, I must note that my son, Kade, is in this picture, as well. His alter ego was "Cupid" Kade back when he was two years old. Sadly enough for me, he grew out of this phase. Let us look at winter my Chris while we simultaneously mourn Kade's golden curls.

Alan Jackson Vs. My Chris

You see what I mean now? I can't really say which one is my favorite look, as I think he is handsome no matter what. *bonus suck up points for me* But I do have to say, it's pretty funny watching other people's reactions to the summer my Chris. For some reason, people are terrified of him. I think this is hilarious. Why? Because while others may be intimidated of him, my Chris has been known to utter the phrase, "I wear the pants in my house... until Ari gets home."

This is actually an ongoing joke between the two of us. We think it's funny to turn the tables on each other. I can't count the times that in a disagreement, he has declared that if I don't back down, he will take me to the bedroom. And he can't count the times I have told him to sit there, look pretty and let me do the talking. To us, this is hilarious.

We defy gender roles daily. Sometimes he is more dominant and other times, I kick ass and take names later. Give and take, people. That's what it's all about.

That's So Wrong

It's Wednesday!!!! Let's get this show on the road, eh? For some reason, I can't seem to get gifs or bitmaps to work. This first picture is of a mouse humping a mouse. I'm not sure if I can get the "hump" action to work, but I'll try.

Arithetic?

Is anyone else tempted?

Fed Ex Vs. UPS

The power of a motorcycle, they even get grannies all revved up.

Maybe the window seat wasn't such a great idea, after all.

Poor Fido.

Take a deep breath...

Ewaaaaaagh!

Someone slap the mother...

Video Links

Beat that ass!

There is something seriously wrong with guys that ride crotchrockets.

And this is how the teddy bears have their picnic!

Dumbass.

I'm too sexy.

Sonic gives advice to Katie Holmes dad.

This entry is dedicated to all the contributors: Alexis, Jodi, Stephaine, Debbie and my Chris.

Worst Case Scenario

I have a nasty habit. It freaks me out and when I speak about it to others, it freaks them out too. It tortures me, it makes me worry. It's the last thing I think about before I fall asleep. What is my nasty habit? Worst case scenarios.

They run through my head at least once a day. Some days are worse than others, though. It's like I'm mentally trying to prepare for the worst thing that could possibly happen.

"If the house catches on fire, who do I save first?"

Of course, the answer is Kade. That one's easy. My husband knows this and agrees with it. But they get much harder after time.

"If I lose control of my car on a bridge and it plummets into the river, will I be able to get both Kade and myself unstrapped and swim to the surface before we drown?"

That one is a little harder, because I don't know the answer to that one. It's freaky that I think about deathly situations like this. I'm a parent, though, so my main job is to keep that little boy safe. It's kills me to know there may be situations arise that I have little to no control of. I'll tell you one thing though, I'm sick of thinking about these scenarios.

Sometimes, though, they are good. I started thinking about what I would do if something ever happened to my Chris. I then realized, I had no plan, nothing, I had no information at all. So he and I sat down and not only talked about insurance policies and who to call, what to do, we also talked about who would get Kade if something were to happen to both of us. Most people don't like talking about death, I don't either, but sometimes it has to be done. A lot of times, people don't plan for these things to happen. I just have to know that even in death, my son will be cared and provided for. It really does ease the mind to have a plan of action prepared ahead of time. No one wants these things to happen, but we have no control over that. It's better to be prepared.

Ohhhhhhh Yeahhhhh

While talking to Omar about music, I remembered a little ditty that got put into a lot of eighties movies. It usually made it's appearance when a hot girl or a gorgeous car came into view. But hang on. Let me tell you why best friends are so great. This is why:

"There was this song from Ferris Beuler..."

"I have it, here I'll send it."

Yeah, Char rocks hardcore for KNOWING every song I could ever possibly love. And you're probably hearing it right now.

I have no doubt that when my Chris gets home from his meeting, he will ask, "Why didn't you take the time to take the decorations down?"

"I was finding the bow bow chicka chicka song from Ferris Beuler. That's why!"

In another related story, Promise sent me some bow chicka bow chicka bow bow porn music. When I heard it, I laughed my ass off. Thanks hon! You rock!

It's so great to have friends.

Keep a level head

I'm sure you've read about the trapped miners in the news. The strange thing is that my house has been turned into grand central station as far as phone calls go for that past several weeks. Service men and police officers alike have been calling here when the Westboro Baptist Church (WBC) invades their city. They're calling to find out more information about these wackos. And because Chris is the ride leader for the Patriot Guard in west central Illinois and has helped organize rides to honor the fallen soldiers and to serve as a human barricade so the family doesn't have to see the "protestors" at the funeral, his name has gotten around.

So the sheriff from West Virginia called our house this morning, needing information to better protect his community. Apparently, the WBC has gone down there to "protest" (or really to call the trapped miners names and to speak about how they must have been abominations to God). It is disturbing and sick, I know. The reason I am writing about this again is that there is some information I want to share about these WBC people.

They provoke. They WANT to provoke you. If they come to your town, don't touch them. Don't attack them. They WANT you to. They want people to become enraged, they want to get attacked so they can sue. This is how they make their money to fuel these little road trips. And their money is running out. And while I might agree that they may deserve to be punched in the face, DON'T DO IT. It will only fuel them further, give them more ammunition, more money, more lawsuits.

I say this to everyone, but especially to the Star Riders, Patriot Guard riders and other riders across the nation. Keep a level head. You're there to support the family, whether they show up or not. Remember that. It's all for the families.

You can find more information here: http://patriotguard.org/

To the families of the miners, I am terribly sorry for all that you've gone through and for all the loved ones you've lost. My heart goes out to you.

Monster Sleepover

It all started when I retrieved three monsters from school today. Last I checked, I only had one monster, but alas, two more decided they just HAD to be at my house tonight. Mmm, okay. So I brought them home. There was one point where I actually worried that the upstairs floor would collapse, sending them plummeting to the downstairs living room. Man, those kids can jump. I can't even remember the last time I jumped up and down for no good reason.

Oh wait. Yes, I can.

Nevertheless, one monster got a little shy later on in the evening, deciding he didn't want to spend the WHOLE night after all. Eh, this happens. No worries. I told him that was fine. These kids have to ease into the idea of staying away from Mom and Dad for a whole night. What can you do?

The other one decided he just had to call his Gran and Grandad to tell them goodnight. I thought it was sweet so I let him. This is how the conversation went:

"Grandad? Hi, I just wanted to tell you goodnight... Is Gran there? Goodnight Gran! Let me speak to Grandad again... Uh huh, uh huh, goodnight!... I gotta go now... No really, Grandad, I gotta go pee now!"

Kids.

That's So Wrong

I forgot it was Wednesday again. Thanks Charles, for reminding me, or I might have missed it this week entirely. Woops! Let's get this started then.

How to know if you're speeding.

Hang in there!

Video Links

The gayest referee ever

The flying cat

Too much junk in the trunk

Greatest video ever, IMO

This entry dedicated to the contributors: Debbie and My Chris. Don't forget, if you would like to contribute a funny pic or a link to a funny video, just email me the link or picture and you too can have an entry dedicated to you.

I'm going to go lie back down in bed now with the hopes that I won't puke today. I feel awful. So Ciao, for now.