Apparently whomever was reading from "The Pentagon" must have referred my blog over to the US Department of Justice. According to my trusty sitemeter, someone from there has been reading. Was it the stealing? Is it because strange people find my blog through weird google searches? Either way, I'm toast. Dark brown, burnt and crispy.
Therefore, I must say the following things to some strange folks out there:
1. To the person who did a google search with these search words "butthole itches and can't poo": I feel your pain. I really and truly do. There is NOTHING worse than an itchy starfish. I recommend a laxative. Once you poo, it usually takes care of the itchy starfish.
2. To the person who did a google search with these search words "mama and boy sex": OH. MY. FUCKING. GOD. How in the name of all things holy did that search lead you to me? You are perverted and sick and perverted and just wrong. Did I mention perverted? Stay. AWAY!
Now, moving on:
Dear Dept of Justice reader,
I promise you that I will make every effort to stop with the kleptomania. It is a sickness and Hubby is trying to stop me. I will attend 12 steps. I will manacle my hands. Whatever it takes. Please do not arrest me.
I promise that I have returned my summons to Federal Jury Duty. I plan on calling next week to check my juror status. If called apon, I will serve. I promise to not blog about it until after the case. Please do not arrest me.
I promise that I have never EVER written anything about child porn. The only references to sex and my children have been in how to scar my oldest to prevent him from having sex. I'm trying to do my part to keep down teenage pregnancy. I'm preaching abstinence (even if I'm not practicing it). Please please do not arrest me.
Sincerely,
Kate
Disclaimer: this post is intended to be very tongue in cheek. It is in no way an admission of guilt on my part for any past or future actions. Except for the part of the pervo that is suffering Oedipus Complex. He really needs to stay away. If the DOJ reader was just cruising by, I hope they like what they read!
Friday, November 30, 2007
Thursday, November 29, 2007
Today Is NOT My Day
Ever had one of those days? Of course you have. One of those days where you almost hope you can be like Bill Murray in Groundhog Day and go back and start over. That's me - Today.
I'm off to Kansas City this weekend for a girls night out. Its more of a quasi bachelorette party for my sister but without the male strippers. Hopefully, there will be wine. All week the weather people have been predicting ugly weather. When does it start? Friday night. When do I leave? Saturday afternoon. Good times.
I'm also supposed to go to the dentist on Saturday. Have I mentioned that I have a deathly fear of the dentist? No? Yeah - its that bad. White face, cold sweat, swirly stomach, the whole nine yards. On the bright side (for the dentist anyway) my mouth is probably going to cost enough to send one of his kids through college. I wonder if dentures are cheaper?
How on earth does all that above tie into having one of those days? Well, let me tell you. I would normally decorate my tree this weekend. Since I'm not going to be there, I've been scrambling to get it done the last couple of days. However, every year, I have a tree disaster. There was the year I checked all my lights and they all worked so I put them on the tree. Only to find out the middle third of the tree wouldn't light up. Then the next year I got all prepared to do the tree to open the box and discover I was out of lights since I had thrown out the bastarding things the year before when they didn't work. I always seem to run one strand short too. Something that is always discovered when I'm at the bottom of the tree. Which usually involves an emergency trip to Target. At which time I always end up buying 2 sets *just to be safe* to discover I've bought a set with white wire. Getting the picture?
So, this year, in anticipation, I prepurchased 2 extra sets of lights. I double checked to make sure they were green wire. Check and Check. I was in good shape. I put all 10 strands (Yes - 10) on the tree and everything was great. Until I told Shaggy to get the garland. Ahhhhh Christmas disaster strikes. I had thrown out the garland. So, tonight on the way home, I make another emergency trip to Target to get the garland. 4 things of it. Check and Check. I get hope and start putting the garland on the tree. Yep - not enough! I restrung that damn garland 4 times hoping I could make it stretch before realizing that 4 strings of it wasn't going to cover this tree all the way round. Next plan of attack? Pushing the tree back and just doing the front, ghetto fabulous style. I get under the tree preparing to push it back and realize I've wound the extra bit of lights around the tree so tighly, I cut the cord. Dammit - Christmas disaster!
After yet ANOTHER emergency trip to Target, to purchase and extra set of lights and more garland, that part of the tree is done and I now feel like the Grinch. Fucking Christmas Tree.
However, earlier in the day, I pulled a stunt that totally demonstrates my lack of common sense. I was attempting to call Hubby (who's cell ends with 53 and mine ends with 51). As the phone was ringing, I hear my cell phone start buzzing. I manage to grab it and see that it says work. Now, you might ask - why would work be calling if I was there? Well, its kind of a running joke since our resident Sybil likes to call from our shop because, and I quote, "I'm too lazy to get up and walk over to the office". So, we do it to each other because we all find ourselves incredibily amusing. I answer my cell phone and I get nothing. I double check, yep it says work and it was definitely a call. So, there I am standing there with a phone at each ear. I also realize I never heard Hubby answer so I hang up the land line phone and I'm still trying to figure out who the heck was calling me. Slowly, it dawns on me. You dumbass, you called yourself. Yeah - I'm the blondest redhead you'll ever meet. Of course, I started laughing like a hyena which brought Satan and our secretary running to find out what was so funny. So, now everyone knows what I did and I'm pretty sure its only a matter of time before they start calling me Corky again.
Like I said, Good times, Good times!
I'm off to Kansas City this weekend for a girls night out. Its more of a quasi bachelorette party for my sister but without the male strippers. Hopefully, there will be wine. All week the weather people have been predicting ugly weather. When does it start? Friday night. When do I leave? Saturday afternoon. Good times.
I'm also supposed to go to the dentist on Saturday. Have I mentioned that I have a deathly fear of the dentist? No? Yeah - its that bad. White face, cold sweat, swirly stomach, the whole nine yards. On the bright side (for the dentist anyway) my mouth is probably going to cost enough to send one of his kids through college. I wonder if dentures are cheaper?
How on earth does all that above tie into having one of those days? Well, let me tell you. I would normally decorate my tree this weekend. Since I'm not going to be there, I've been scrambling to get it done the last couple of days. However, every year, I have a tree disaster. There was the year I checked all my lights and they all worked so I put them on the tree. Only to find out the middle third of the tree wouldn't light up. Then the next year I got all prepared to do the tree to open the box and discover I was out of lights since I had thrown out the bastarding things the year before when they didn't work. I always seem to run one strand short too. Something that is always discovered when I'm at the bottom of the tree. Which usually involves an emergency trip to Target. At which time I always end up buying 2 sets *just to be safe* to discover I've bought a set with white wire. Getting the picture?
So, this year, in anticipation, I prepurchased 2 extra sets of lights. I double checked to make sure they were green wire. Check and Check. I was in good shape. I put all 10 strands (Yes - 10) on the tree and everything was great. Until I told Shaggy to get the garland. Ahhhhh Christmas disaster strikes. I had thrown out the garland. So, tonight on the way home, I make another emergency trip to Target to get the garland. 4 things of it. Check and Check. I get hope and start putting the garland on the tree. Yep - not enough! I restrung that damn garland 4 times hoping I could make it stretch before realizing that 4 strings of it wasn't going to cover this tree all the way round. Next plan of attack? Pushing the tree back and just doing the front, ghetto fabulous style. I get under the tree preparing to push it back and realize I've wound the extra bit of lights around the tree so tighly, I cut the cord. Dammit - Christmas disaster!
After yet ANOTHER emergency trip to Target, to purchase and extra set of lights and more garland, that part of the tree is done and I now feel like the Grinch. Fucking Christmas Tree.
However, earlier in the day, I pulled a stunt that totally demonstrates my lack of common sense. I was attempting to call Hubby (who's cell ends with 53 and mine ends with 51). As the phone was ringing, I hear my cell phone start buzzing. I manage to grab it and see that it says work. Now, you might ask - why would work be calling if I was there? Well, its kind of a running joke since our resident Sybil likes to call from our shop because, and I quote, "I'm too lazy to get up and walk over to the office". So, we do it to each other because we all find ourselves incredibily amusing. I answer my cell phone and I get nothing. I double check, yep it says work and it was definitely a call. So, there I am standing there with a phone at each ear. I also realize I never heard Hubby answer so I hang up the land line phone and I'm still trying to figure out who the heck was calling me. Slowly, it dawns on me. You dumbass, you called yourself. Yeah - I'm the blondest redhead you'll ever meet. Of course, I started laughing like a hyena which brought Satan and our secretary running to find out what was so funny. So, now everyone knows what I did and I'm pretty sure its only a matter of time before they start calling me Corky again.
Like I said, Good times, Good times!
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
8 Random/Interesting Things About Moi
The goooooorgeous Sasha tagged me for this since I bitched whined so much about being left out of her last MeMe. So, she tags me and what do I do? Put it off for the last week. Yeah, I know, slacker. As a matter of fact, if I can stop slacking, I have a whole post about me slacking. Stay tuned. (You're on the edge of your seat right now, aren't you?)
I don't know if these will be interesting but they are certainly random:
1. I lived in England from 1984 to 1993. I attended Jr High and High School over there. I totally loved my time there and spent from 1991 to 1993 living as a Brit with my Brit husband (who is not my husband anymore and is more commonly referred to as that Ass or Sperm Donor or Stoopid Ugly DooDoo Head). While I lived there, I gave birth in a British hospital - not recommended and not ahorror story I will share unless asked for. I don't want to scare any childless people.
2. My mom signed me up for ballet when I was 4 in the hopes I would gain some coordination and grace. It didn't help. I still walk into door frames and I sprained my ankle at work about 2 years ago by tripping on a handicap ramp. Yes, a handicap ramp.
3. Only 1 of my 3 children were conceived in wedlock and only 2 were born in wedlock. I have 3 children and 2 daddies. I love to shock people with this. I love to see them stutter for the appropriate response.
4. I have been called grandma twice while out shopping with Abby. Now, I know I'm not 20 but HELLOOOOO I don't think I look 50. The second time was by some wrinkled old raisin of a cashier at Target who could easily have been twice my age.
5. When we moved to England, I was 12 and I only had 1 book to read - 'Salems Lot by Stephen King. After reading this, I wouldn't sleep with a window open for 5 years and I used to check my sister's teeth at night to make sure she hadn't morphed into a vampire.
6. I once ran from the police. NOT. ONE. OF. MY. PROUDER. MOMENTS. BUT, I will say this, it is a damn funny story that again, I will share if asked.
7. I am terrible with money. If I have a dime in my pocket, I will find a way to spend it 100 times over. One of these days, Hubby's going to take away my debit card. I can't leave the house to pick up one thing and not spend $30 to $50. Often times, I do this even when we don't have $20 in the checking account. Its a disease.
8. I'm really intelligent but I have ZERO common sense. I can learn anything put in front of me but watching mystery shows on TV or reading a mystery novel, I'm ALWAYS surprised at the ending. I'm so not mechanically inclined either. I don't even know how to set my alarm clock. I have to have Hubby set it for me before he goes to Pennsylvania every time and then remind me how to turn it on. If the TV isn't work, I have to call Shaggy to the rescue. (Hey, have you SEEN those digital remotes??? You have to have a mechanical engineering degree to figure it out).
Now, I tag Tina and Deb and Mrs Whogas because they are the only people who's blogs I read regularly that haven't been tagged for this. Tina - because she's sweet and always does them. Deb - because she's just flat out interesting and I want to be her when I grow up. Mrs. Whogas - because she's like me.
PS - again, with the mechanically not inclined, I can't figure out how to do the link thingy on a Mac since I don't have one of those little buttons up there so I'll add the links when I get home.
PSS - I was just reading Tina's and she got tagged with one to list 7 things so she's off the hook but owes me ONE MORE!
I don't know if these will be interesting but they are certainly random:
1. I lived in England from 1984 to 1993. I attended Jr High and High School over there. I totally loved my time there and spent from 1991 to 1993 living as a Brit with my Brit husband (who is not my husband anymore and is more commonly referred to as that Ass or Sperm Donor or Stoopid Ugly DooDoo Head). While I lived there, I gave birth in a British hospital - not recommended and not a
2. My mom signed me up for ballet when I was 4 in the hopes I would gain some coordination and grace. It didn't help. I still walk into door frames and I sprained my ankle at work about 2 years ago by tripping on a handicap ramp. Yes, a handicap ramp.
3. Only 1 of my 3 children were conceived in wedlock and only 2 were born in wedlock. I have 3 children and 2 daddies. I love to shock people with this. I love to see them stutter for the appropriate response.
4. I have been called grandma twice while out shopping with Abby. Now, I know I'm not 20 but HELLOOOOO I don't think I look 50. The second time was by some wrinkled old raisin of a cashier at Target who could easily have been twice my age.
5. When we moved to England, I was 12 and I only had 1 book to read - 'Salems Lot by Stephen King. After reading this, I wouldn't sleep with a window open for 5 years and I used to check my sister's teeth at night to make sure she hadn't morphed into a vampire.
6. I once ran from the police. NOT. ONE. OF. MY. PROUDER. MOMENTS. BUT, I will say this, it is a damn funny story that again, I will share if asked.
7. I am terrible with money. If I have a dime in my pocket, I will find a way to spend it 100 times over. One of these days, Hubby's going to take away my debit card. I can't leave the house to pick up one thing and not spend $30 to $50. Often times, I do this even when we don't have $20 in the checking account. Its a disease.
8. I'm really intelligent but I have ZERO common sense. I can learn anything put in front of me but watching mystery shows on TV or reading a mystery novel, I'm ALWAYS surprised at the ending. I'm so not mechanically inclined either. I don't even know how to set my alarm clock. I have to have Hubby set it for me before he goes to Pennsylvania every time and then remind me how to turn it on. If the TV isn't work, I have to call Shaggy to the rescue. (Hey, have you SEEN those digital remotes??? You have to have a mechanical engineering degree to figure it out).
Now, I tag Tina and Deb and Mrs Whogas because they are the only people who's blogs I read regularly that haven't been tagged for this. Tina - because she's sweet and always does them. Deb - because she's just flat out interesting and I want to be her when I grow up. Mrs. Whogas - because she's like me.
PS - again, with the mechanically not inclined, I can't figure out how to do the link thingy on a Mac since I don't have one of those little buttons up there so I'll add the links when I get home.
PSS - I was just reading Tina's and she got tagged with one to list 7 things so she's off the hook but owes me ONE MORE!
Sunday, November 18, 2007
Randomness
I've had a couple of comments asking about my previous post. I'm going to assume you really want to know if it will be over soon and break down the year according to our sports life at work:
August: NCAA order arrives and mad scramble ensues to get everything ordered, printed and packed for the shipping deadline. Also, preseason NBA (hello....we shipped all over Europe and China this year) and postseason WNBA (yes, apparently some people do care).
September: All colleges and conferences are back in session and with their bright and shiny new budgets with necessitate the need for press conference backdrops (the large banners you see, if your paying attention, behind the coaches and players and many many chairbacks (like a slipcover for the back of a folding chair)
October: Begin shipping the start of all the NCAA fall shipments and mad dashes to correct all their fuck ups - you'd think after 100 years they'd have some clue of what they need. Regular season NBA begins...more chairbacks and American flags and whatever else they can conjure up. This usually involves many teams contacting us for various items.
November: Preseason college basketball tournaments. You've already read enough about this but now hopefully if you watch any of it on TV, you'll have a new appreciation for what goes into it.
December: a mini lull due to the holidays...just enough to convince us that the past months really haven't been that bad. Printing begins on all the winter items for the NCAA
January: Repeat of NCAA for October plus they add in DI Basketball which is so huge it isn't considered part of their normal order. Order for NBA All Star (yes, I can get tickets)
February: Conference basketball tournaments. 'Nuff said.
March: Well, March Madness - again 'nuff said. Add to that the NIT and having to pull an all nighter, Madness accurately describes this month
April: NBA Playoffs. This usually involves having to airfreight something somewhere.
May: NBA Finals and start of WNBA season. Men's and Women's College World Series - yes, I do get to go to at least one CWS game.
June: small lull in which to catch your breath and feel like the day is dragging since you aren't running around like your ass is on fire.
July: WNBA All Star
So, as you can see, it doesn't really end - its just worse at times. Add into the sports mix all our regular customers and it makes life interesting. Have I mentioned that we've done some movies??? Blue Chips, Like Mike, After the Sunset, Eddie, Love and Basketball, etc.
At any rate, its been so busy I've lost my funny. I have it at work but by the time I have a chance to sit at the computer, my fingers just won't work. The only strength they have is to pick up the glass of wine I must drink to relax. Yes, MUST.
I do need some help though. I believe I've mentioned that I have a wedding coming up. My baby sister is getting married on January 5th and I'm her witness/best lady/matron of honor so I need a really nice outfit. I may have also mentioned that I've grown a coffee cake in my abdomen area and that my upper arms resemble turkey drumsticks (you know all round and fat at the top and skinny at the bottom???). So, my dilemma is, what the hell to wear? I want something nice that I can also wear again for when we have recovered enough from paycheck shortitis to go out. Sleeveless is out of the question. I don't want any wedding guests mistaking me for dinner. Oh yeah, forgot to throw into the mix that I'm 5'1.5" - so fat, short, and flabbyness abounds, and really big boobs - what a joy to shop for. All the suits I look at look too businessy (yes, that is a real word) and all the dresses are too long. Anyone have any suggestions??? Anyone? Bueller? Bueller?
August: NCAA order arrives and mad scramble ensues to get everything ordered, printed and packed for the shipping deadline. Also, preseason NBA (hello....we shipped all over Europe and China this year) and postseason WNBA (yes, apparently some people do care).
September: All colleges and conferences are back in session and with their bright and shiny new budgets with necessitate the need for press conference backdrops (the large banners you see, if your paying attention, behind the coaches and players and many many chairbacks (like a slipcover for the back of a folding chair)
October: Begin shipping the start of all the NCAA fall shipments and mad dashes to correct all their fuck ups - you'd think after 100 years they'd have some clue of what they need. Regular season NBA begins...more chairbacks and American flags and whatever else they can conjure up. This usually involves many teams contacting us for various items.
November: Preseason college basketball tournaments. You've already read enough about this but now hopefully if you watch any of it on TV, you'll have a new appreciation for what goes into it.
December: a mini lull due to the holidays...just enough to convince us that the past months really haven't been that bad. Printing begins on all the winter items for the NCAA
January: Repeat of NCAA for October plus they add in DI Basketball which is so huge it isn't considered part of their normal order. Order for NBA All Star (yes, I can get tickets)
February: Conference basketball tournaments. 'Nuff said.
March: Well, March Madness - again 'nuff said. Add to that the NIT and having to pull an all nighter, Madness accurately describes this month
April: NBA Playoffs. This usually involves having to airfreight something somewhere.
May: NBA Finals and start of WNBA season. Men's and Women's College World Series - yes, I do get to go to at least one CWS game.
June: small lull in which to catch your breath and feel like the day is dragging since you aren't running around like your ass is on fire.
July: WNBA All Star
So, as you can see, it doesn't really end - its just worse at times. Add into the sports mix all our regular customers and it makes life interesting. Have I mentioned that we've done some movies??? Blue Chips, Like Mike, After the Sunset, Eddie, Love and Basketball, etc.
At any rate, its been so busy I've lost my funny. I have it at work but by the time I have a chance to sit at the computer, my fingers just won't work. The only strength they have is to pick up the glass of wine I must drink to relax. Yes, MUST.
I do need some help though. I believe I've mentioned that I have a wedding coming up. My baby sister is getting married on January 5th and I'm her witness/best lady/matron of honor so I need a really nice outfit. I may have also mentioned that I've grown a coffee cake in my abdomen area and that my upper arms resemble turkey drumsticks (you know all round and fat at the top and skinny at the bottom???). So, my dilemma is, what the hell to wear? I want something nice that I can also wear again for when we have recovered enough from paycheck shortitis to go out. Sleeveless is out of the question. I don't want any wedding guests mistaking me for dinner. Oh yeah, forgot to throw into the mix that I'm 5'1.5" - so fat, short, and flabbyness abounds, and really big boobs - what a joy to shop for. All the suits I look at look too businessy (yes, that is a real word) and all the dresses are too long. Anyone have any suggestions??? Anyone? Bueller? Bueller?
Thursday, November 15, 2007
My Life In Numbers....
The last month has been hell....H.E.L.L. I tell you. I know I've mentioned work is nuts (the people I work with) and we are busy as, well, H.E.L.L. Here are some numbers for you:
Number of Tournaments worked on: 13 (I think) they include the following
NIT
College Hoops Classic
ACC/Big Ten Challenge
CBE Classic
Maggie Dixon Classic
Aeropostale Holiday Festival
Aeropostale Holiday Classic
Legends Classic
Blue Ribbon Challenge
Pape Jam
Pape Slam
Men's Jimmy V
Women's Jimmy V
Yes, these are all college basketball tournaments. No, they have not all been played yet. Yes, they are all televised. Yes, half of them are played at Madison Square Garden. (Told ya I had a cool job)
Number of hours worked per week on average: 45
Number of mornings started at 6 am: 4 or 5
Number of evenings ended after 5 pm: see above
Number of dinners eaten with the family: 2
Number of times I've fallen asleep with a book on my face out of sheer exhaustion: 2
Number of bottles of Coke consumed for the quick caffeine rush: I think I just gave Ashley 34 Coke points
Number of days I haven't seen Abby at all: 2
Number of times all of us working together have snapped at each other: at least 3 times a day
Number of times we've all professed a huge hatred of college basketball: one kajillion
Number of times I've whined that my feet, legs, back, arms, and hair hurt: one kajillion plus one
Number of jury summons received to Federal Court: one
Number of times I've wondered if said summons is just a ploy to get me in a courthouse so I can be dutifully arrested for uncontrolled stealing: every 5.4 seconds
Number of times stolen bunny has been thrown to the end of the bed and broken ass bunny has been cuddled close: every night
Number of report cards with straight A's: 1 - way to go Kell
Number of weekends I've only had the baby in the house: easier to count the ones that all kids were in the house - ZERO
Number of nights I've stayed awake past 10:30: ZERO
Number of Tournaments worked on: 13 (I think) they include the following
NIT
College Hoops Classic
ACC/Big Ten Challenge
CBE Classic
Maggie Dixon Classic
Aeropostale Holiday Festival
Aeropostale Holiday Classic
Legends Classic
Blue Ribbon Challenge
Pape Jam
Pape Slam
Men's Jimmy V
Women's Jimmy V
Yes, these are all college basketball tournaments. No, they have not all been played yet. Yes, they are all televised. Yes, half of them are played at Madison Square Garden. (Told ya I had a cool job)
Number of hours worked per week on average: 45
Number of mornings started at 6 am: 4 or 5
Number of evenings ended after 5 pm: see above
Number of dinners eaten with the family: 2
Number of times I've fallen asleep with a book on my face out of sheer exhaustion: 2
Number of bottles of Coke consumed for the quick caffeine rush: I think I just gave Ashley 34 Coke points
Number of days I haven't seen Abby at all: 2
Number of times all of us working together have snapped at each other: at least 3 times a day
Number of times we've all professed a huge hatred of college basketball: one kajillion
Number of times I've whined that my feet, legs, back, arms, and hair hurt: one kajillion plus one
Number of jury summons received to Federal Court: one
Number of times I've wondered if said summons is just a ploy to get me in a courthouse so I can be dutifully arrested for uncontrolled stealing: every 5.4 seconds
Number of times stolen bunny has been thrown to the end of the bed and broken ass bunny has been cuddled close: every night
Number of report cards with straight A's: 1 - way to go Kell
Number of weekends I've only had the baby in the house: easier to count the ones that all kids were in the house - ZERO
Number of nights I've stayed awake past 10:30: ZERO
Saturday, November 10, 2007
The Shame of It All
I have topped myself. My kleptomania has reached new and extreme heights. I'm now hiding out in my house just waiting for the knock on the door from the coppers. I'm sure it will be any minute now....
It all started about 18 months ago when I was pregnant. I got this really cool bedding set from E-bay but alas, I couldn't find a mobile that would go with it. At our friendly neighborhood Target store, I found a bunny. A bunny that when you pulled the string coming out of his ass, played a sweet lullaby. After a few sleeplessweeks months, I may have pulled bunny's ass too hard and ended his music playing days for good! I was very traumatized and I think on the verge of tears at the fact that I killed Bunny but it didn't seem to faze Abby. She still loved Bunny and wouldn't go to bed without it.
(yes, that is a glass of wine on the edge of the picture....after today, I deserve it!)
These days, Bunny is looking worse for wear. His nose is coming unsewn and he's had his fair share of spit up, smashed food, and snot rubbed into his fur. (Yes, I'm well aware that Bunny is pink and that I still refer to him as a he...maybe its a gay Bunny). Despite repeated washings, Bunny is showing his age. We've tried bribing Bunny away with other stuffed animals, like a Pooh and an Eyore, but to no avail. Until today....
Bunny's broken Ass.
While at The Hell on Earth Known as Wal-Mart, we found Bunny's little brother. A little more pink with a working ass. Abby saw it and started clapping and wouldn't relinquish New Bunny. Only one problem, she was eating the tag. I turned to Hubby and asked him if we were, in fact, buying New Bunny and he looked at those big blue eyes (Abby's not New Bunny's) and said he didn't think we'd get it away from her. So, I pulled off the tag in the name of child safety and store cleanliness (we were leaving a trail of chewed paper behind us). In my new efforts to stop stealing, I put the tag in my jacket pocket and told Hubby not to let me forget it was there. You see, I was afraid it would fall out of the cart.
New Bunny!
Complete with working Ass!
I'm sure you see where this is going. Yes, I totally forgot that the tag was in my pocket. Its all the fault of Hunts tomatoes. I had a dented can and Hubby knows what a freak I am about dented cans so like the wonderful husband he is, he ran back to exchange the can. That left me to watch Abby, put up the groceries, make sure I got my price matches, and forget all about the tag.
The dirty evidence.
As we are leaving the store, Hubby asks me if we paid for New Bunny. He starts to laugh as I turn ghost white and get a total look of panic in my eyes. As we are walking to the car, I'm lamenting over the fact that I, ONCE AGAIN, forgot to pay while Hubby's delighting in the fact that I saved us $10.94. I said something along the lines that he'd probably turn me in if the Wally Police came after me and he said that he'd be sure to tell them it wasn't the first thing. Then, laughingly, asked if I managed to pay for the Frappucino. Bastard.
It all started about 18 months ago when I was pregnant. I got this really cool bedding set from E-bay but alas, I couldn't find a mobile that would go with it. At our friendly neighborhood Target store, I found a bunny. A bunny that when you pulled the string coming out of his ass, played a sweet lullaby. After a few sleepless
(yes, that is a glass of wine on the edge of the picture....after today, I deserve it!)
These days, Bunny is looking worse for wear. His nose is coming unsewn and he's had his fair share of spit up, smashed food, and snot rubbed into his fur. (Yes, I'm well aware that Bunny is pink and that I still refer to him as a he...maybe its a gay Bunny). Despite repeated washings, Bunny is showing his age. We've tried bribing Bunny away with other stuffed animals, like a Pooh and an Eyore, but to no avail. Until today....
Bunny's broken Ass.
While at The Hell on Earth Known as Wal-Mart, we found Bunny's little brother. A little more pink with a working ass. Abby saw it and started clapping and wouldn't relinquish New Bunny. Only one problem, she was eating the tag. I turned to Hubby and asked him if we were, in fact, buying New Bunny and he looked at those big blue eyes (Abby's not New Bunny's) and said he didn't think we'd get it away from her. So, I pulled off the tag in the name of child safety and store cleanliness (we were leaving a trail of chewed paper behind us). In my new efforts to stop stealing, I put the tag in my jacket pocket and told Hubby not to let me forget it was there. You see, I was afraid it would fall out of the cart.
New Bunny!
Complete with working Ass!
I'm sure you see where this is going. Yes, I totally forgot that the tag was in my pocket. Its all the fault of Hunts tomatoes. I had a dented can and Hubby knows what a freak I am about dented cans so like the wonderful husband he is, he ran back to exchange the can. That left me to watch Abby, put up the groceries, make sure I got my price matches, and forget all about the tag.
The dirty evidence.
As we are leaving the store, Hubby asks me if we paid for New Bunny. He starts to laugh as I turn ghost white and get a total look of panic in my eyes. As we are walking to the car, I'm lamenting over the fact that I, ONCE AGAIN, forgot to pay while Hubby's delighting in the fact that I saved us $10.94. I said something along the lines that he'd probably turn me in if the Wally Police came after me and he said that he'd be sure to tell them it wasn't the first thing. Then, laughingly, asked if I managed to pay for the Frappucino. Bastard.
Wednesday, November 7, 2007
Big Brother Is Reading???
You may or may not have guessed but I have severe issues. I feel the need to daily check my blog in anticipation of any comments that might have been left. I think it's a Freudian thing that goes back to a lack of love from my parents (at least that sounds better than I'm a desperate loser who needs online people to tell me I'm funny to feel fufilled, doesn't it?). I like to view that handy dandy little thing known as Sitemeter. Perhaps, I should stay in the dark.
Today when I looked, I saw a visitor from the Pentagon. Yes, THAT Pentagon. I just hope that they are reading for amusement and not because I've made some terror watch list with all the crap I spew (except from my ass, that's still not going well).
So, Dear Pentagon Reader -
I love the US. I'm not a terrorist. I don't beat my childrenoften. I really do only steal by accident.
Please don't come get me.
Smooches -
Kate
PS - if it helps, I know the words to most of the military anthems.....
Today when I looked, I saw a visitor from the Pentagon. Yes, THAT Pentagon. I just hope that they are reading for amusement and not because I've made some terror watch list with all the crap I spew (except from my ass, that's still not going well).
So, Dear Pentagon Reader -
I love the US. I'm not a terrorist. I don't beat my children
Please don't come get me.
Smooches -
Kate
PS - if it helps, I know the words to most of the military anthems.....
Monday, November 5, 2007
Inappropriateness Returns!
Let me preface this post by saying I have Stage Fright when attempting to poo. I can't go if I'm not home or if anyone is around. Seriously. Total stage fright. Seems weird, doesn't it? Someone who can talk about it, make jokes about it, can't do it! Unless I really gotta go...
So, this afternoon, I was suffering with an itchy starfish (translated: itchy butthole) and I thought maybe attempting to poo would help. So, I'm on the throne, concentrating, willing myself not to make any noise if I go because I didn't want anyone to hear it when I look at the wall and see a HUGE spider. I think it was a tarantula. Ok, maybe I'm exaggerating but it was big and ugly. Its just sitting there staring at me. Planning its strike. And I'm vulnerable. I come up with this brilliant idea to blow at it hoping it will go away from me. No...the little fucker starts coming at me. So, I start screaming. I grabbed some tissues and swiped it off the wall before it could drop into my undies. Then I couldn't find where the little bastard went. Picture this: I'm on the pot, pants and undies around ankles, kleenex littering the floor, me screaming, while attempting to find the spider.
SCORE!
He starts crawling toward me. Me, still screaming, stomped the fuck out of the little bastard. That will show him who is the Alpha Dog.
At the end of it all, I still had an itchy starfish and couldn't poo.
So, this afternoon, I was suffering with an itchy starfish (translated: itchy butthole) and I thought maybe attempting to poo would help. So, I'm on the throne, concentrating, willing myself not to make any noise if I go because I didn't want anyone to hear it when I look at the wall and see a HUGE spider. I think it was a tarantula. Ok, maybe I'm exaggerating but it was big and ugly. Its just sitting there staring at me. Planning its strike. And I'm vulnerable. I come up with this brilliant idea to blow at it hoping it will go away from me. No...the little fucker starts coming at me. So, I start screaming. I grabbed some tissues and swiped it off the wall before it could drop into my undies. Then I couldn't find where the little bastard went. Picture this: I'm on the pot, pants and undies around ankles, kleenex littering the floor, me screaming, while attempting to find the spider.
SCORE!
He starts crawling toward me. Me, still screaming, stomped the fuck out of the little bastard. That will show him who is the Alpha Dog.
At the end of it all, I still had an itchy starfish and couldn't poo.
Saturday, November 3, 2007
All You Need Is Love
A thought occurred to me today as we were out running errands. Ok, you got me, it was several thoughts. Shocker, right?
We took Shaggy out to purchase his class ring. It dawned on me then that he will graduate in 2009 and I graduated in 1990. Get it? 90 vs 09? Pretty sweet, huh? Yeah, yeah, I know you're still doing the math in your head...let me help you out. I was 19 when Shaggy was born. As a matter of fact, I spent my 19th birthday inHELL labor. Shaggy was born at 12:40 am on April 12th. That's right, he missed my birthday by 40 minutes. That's not exactly where I was going with this but a little useless background for you.
As I was helping him design his class ring I started thinking back. Remembering the young girl who thought the world was paved with gold streets and she'd be living the fairy tale. The girl who knew the world was at her feet. The girl who had her pick of colleges and chose motherhood instead.
Lest this sounds bitter and regretful, let me explain. Its neither. If I could go back and do it all again, there isn't much I'd change. But, it made me think. I've pretty much raised the older midgies on my own. Their father left when Shaggy was 9. There I was, 28 years old with 2 kids. How the holy hell was I going to manage. Financially, emotionally, physically. How? Why was I being punished? To say I was pissed off and more than slightly depressed is putting it mildly. I entered the black hole. There were many tears shed - theirs and mine. There was pressure, worrying, stress. There were definitely days I thought I can't do it anymore. Days I thought they'd be better off if I didn't do it anymore. These are days that are still difficult to talk about. I wasn't a good mother...I wasn't a good role model...I wasn't even a good person at times. Yet....they stuck with me. They showed me that my life was worth living.
Now, I'm definitely in a different place. I have a wonderful husband. I have myself back. More importantly, I still have the midgies. When I look at Shaggy, I just can't comprehend that my main role in his life is almost over. It is truly heartbreaking but also very rewarding. I've watched this young boy grow, evolve, mature into a wonderful man. As I watched him make his careful choices for his class ring - choices that were meant to tell others what he was about - I came to realize something. Yeah folks, no humor here, just some soul searching.
What I came to realize is that while we suffer from the same disease most of America does - paycheck shortitis, we are not poor. We are some of the richest people in the world. Our riches cannot be measured in dollars, cents, stocks, bonds, or belongings. They are only measured in the way that there is love and laughter throughout our house. They are measured in the ways that the midgies have healed and grown in spite of all the adversity. They are measured in our families. They are measure in the way that my husband still holds my hand. They are measured by the smiles on Abby's face when she sees any of us. They are measured by family, love, and a sense of peace and rightness in our world.
So, while we will never have the latest possessions, live in the nicest house, drive the best cars, I wouldn't trade a minute of it. I'll take my riches in love, thank you. When the times seem tough, when life is stressing you out, when you are wondering how to pay the bills or eat, look at those you love and remember what is important.
We took Shaggy out to purchase his class ring. It dawned on me then that he will graduate in 2009 and I graduated in 1990. Get it? 90 vs 09? Pretty sweet, huh? Yeah, yeah, I know you're still doing the math in your head...let me help you out. I was 19 when Shaggy was born. As a matter of fact, I spent my 19th birthday in
As I was helping him design his class ring I started thinking back. Remembering the young girl who thought the world was paved with gold streets and she'd be living the fairy tale. The girl who knew the world was at her feet. The girl who had her pick of colleges and chose motherhood instead.
Lest this sounds bitter and regretful, let me explain. Its neither. If I could go back and do it all again, there isn't much I'd change. But, it made me think. I've pretty much raised the older midgies on my own. Their father left when Shaggy was 9. There I was, 28 years old with 2 kids. How the holy hell was I going to manage. Financially, emotionally, physically. How? Why was I being punished? To say I was pissed off and more than slightly depressed is putting it mildly. I entered the black hole. There were many tears shed - theirs and mine. There was pressure, worrying, stress. There were definitely days I thought I can't do it anymore. Days I thought they'd be better off if I didn't do it anymore. These are days that are still difficult to talk about. I wasn't a good mother...I wasn't a good role model...I wasn't even a good person at times. Yet....they stuck with me. They showed me that my life was worth living.
Now, I'm definitely in a different place. I have a wonderful husband. I have myself back. More importantly, I still have the midgies. When I look at Shaggy, I just can't comprehend that my main role in his life is almost over. It is truly heartbreaking but also very rewarding. I've watched this young boy grow, evolve, mature into a wonderful man. As I watched him make his careful choices for his class ring - choices that were meant to tell others what he was about - I came to realize something. Yeah folks, no humor here, just some soul searching.
What I came to realize is that while we suffer from the same disease most of America does - paycheck shortitis, we are not poor. We are some of the richest people in the world. Our riches cannot be measured in dollars, cents, stocks, bonds, or belongings. They are only measured in the way that there is love and laughter throughout our house. They are measured in the ways that the midgies have healed and grown in spite of all the adversity. They are measured in our families. They are measure in the way that my husband still holds my hand. They are measured by the smiles on Abby's face when she sees any of us. They are measured by family, love, and a sense of peace and rightness in our world.
So, while we will never have the latest possessions, live in the nicest house, drive the best cars, I wouldn't trade a minute of it. I'll take my riches in love, thank you. When the times seem tough, when life is stressing you out, when you are wondering how to pay the bills or eat, look at those you love and remember what is important.
Friday, November 2, 2007
My Apologies....
I have to confess that I won't have much time to post the next couple of weeks. This is affectionately known as our busy time at work thanks to all the preseason basketball. Have I mentioned I hate basketball? No? What a lapse on my part.
I have the coolest job on the planet. I work for a small screen print company in Corn Land, Nebraska (wait, before you consult your google map, I made that name up due to the fact that most people think Nebraska = Corn and nothing else) Ok, back from google? Good. Where was I? Oh yes, my job.
I don't actually have a job title so for lack of nothing better to call myself, I'm like a quasi office manager (now, Satan, I know you're reading, don't freak out...I know that I'm really a Bitch of All Things). So anyway, I do all the sales, graphics, and generally whatever else needs to be done. Why is this job so cool?? Well, in case I've neglected to mention - we do all the work for the NCAA and NBA. That's right - I actually have contacts with the NBA and a lot of the teams. I've been offered tours, tickets, swag, etc. One customer at the Nets actually offered me tickets to a game when the Nets were playing the Celtics. How freaking cool is that?
I've had all my sports teams call - I've done work for the Celtics and the Sox and also had some conversations with the Pats. My hubby is in 2nd Heaven because one of my customers is the Philadelphia Eagles - they offered me a grand tour of the place knowing Hubby is a fan. That's right, it pays to be married to me!
We also do all the basketball tournament - conference and otherwise. All. Of. Them. So, consequently from now until April, I'll be working my ass off. Unfortunatley, I do this every year but my damn ass insists on coming back and fiding me and bringing family.
The point? I've been crazy busy and have neglected to post. So, to those of you who read and are wondering if I've dropped off the face of the earth, the answer is no but I've been so freaking busy at work I'm like a one armed Irish man with 2 beers.
I do have things to talk about - report cards, parents night at dance, pictures of Halloween, and some crazy name game courtesy of Deb that I feel compelled to do and pass the enjoyment along to others. If I can make it through next week without talking gibberish and drooling, I promise to update you all.
Love and Kisses!!!
PS - forgive the lack of comments from the original Comment Whore but I have been reading and commenting in my brain...
I have the coolest job on the planet. I work for a small screen print company in Corn Land, Nebraska (wait, before you consult your google map, I made that name up due to the fact that most people think Nebraska = Corn and nothing else) Ok, back from google? Good. Where was I? Oh yes, my job.
I don't actually have a job title so for lack of nothing better to call myself, I'm like a quasi office manager (now, Satan, I know you're reading, don't freak out...I know that I'm really a Bitch of All Things). So anyway, I do all the sales, graphics, and generally whatever else needs to be done. Why is this job so cool?? Well, in case I've neglected to mention - we do all the work for the NCAA and NBA. That's right - I actually have contacts with the NBA and a lot of the teams. I've been offered tours, tickets, swag, etc. One customer at the Nets actually offered me tickets to a game when the Nets were playing the Celtics. How freaking cool is that?
I've had all my sports teams call - I've done work for the Celtics and the Sox and also had some conversations with the Pats. My hubby is in 2nd Heaven because one of my customers is the Philadelphia Eagles - they offered me a grand tour of the place knowing Hubby is a fan. That's right, it pays to be married to me!
We also do all the basketball tournament - conference and otherwise. All. Of. Them. So, consequently from now until April, I'll be working my ass off. Unfortunatley, I do this every year but my damn ass insists on coming back and fiding me and bringing family.
The point? I've been crazy busy and have neglected to post. So, to those of you who read and are wondering if I've dropped off the face of the earth, the answer is no but I've been so freaking busy at work I'm like a one armed Irish man with 2 beers.
I do have things to talk about - report cards, parents night at dance, pictures of Halloween, and some crazy name game courtesy of Deb that I feel compelled to do and pass the enjoyment along to others. If I can make it through next week without talking gibberish and drooling, I promise to update you all.
Love and Kisses!!!
PS - forgive the lack of comments from the original Comment Whore but I have been reading and commenting in my brain...
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