Tabling the Issue

Thunderduck is freakin' out for a napkin or kleenex. SnotFace just picked his nose and was fixin' to wipe the boogers on the table. I told him that's what he gets for teaching him not to eat them.

While I was Away (YouTube)

Bullet dodged.

This guy's mom is probably grateful that he didn't marry this chick and produce stupid grandchildren. All chances of "My grandbaby is an honor student" bumper stickers would have been out the window with one slipped sperm.

Is MyPoolBoy Famous Now?

I totally promise you, despite the receding hairline, the slit-down-the-sides shirt, cartful of beer and cokes, and the fact that Mr. Walmart is walking toward a RED TRUCK -- that this is NOT MyPoolBoy. Edited to Add - Thunderduck just pointed out that it can NOT be MyPoolBoy because there is not enough back hair BWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!!!!! Go HERE:

http://peopleofwalmart.com/?p=67

Me

Just a small sampling of the kind of mood I've been in lately.


see more Lolcats and funny pictures

Somebody Check Hell

I think their thermostat may have gone out. My nasty filthy tomcat Donny just got caught actually bathing himself. A first for the year, I think.

Tri-Lingual

So. We were at the Mexican food restaurant down the street from our house and they had the tv on some Chinese kung fu-type movie.

In Spanish.

With English subtitles.

I promise you, people, I can't make this shi+ up.

The only way this could've possibly been any better is if the English subtitles had been in text-message shorthand lingo, or ValleySpeak, or Ebonics.

Johnny Cash Does Elvis - I'm Not Kidding

Absolutely one of the funniest things I've ever seen

My favorite video of the week

AKA MJ RX

So the news is saying that Michael Jackson had 19 aliases for his prescriptions. Some idiot caller called in and said "but you need photo i.d. for prescriptions."

Seriously? Like h3ll MJ is going to Rite Aid for himself to get his drugs!

oh. My. Gawd. IT's. DIP!

So. MyPoolBoy has decided that I deserve a break and we are out of town and going to stay at a little bed & breakfast (it is SOOOO CUTE!) and spend the weekend antique shopping and getting a massage/facial tomorrow. Anyhoooooo, he took me to eat at a Mexican food place that Thunderduck just raved and raved about and swore was great.

So we're sitting there and out comes the chips and salsa and The Dip. We THINK The Dip was guacamole. All I can say is that this was the most Dr. Seuss-a$$ looking dip that I have ever been presented with. Bright. Mint. Green.

The following picture was taken with a camera phone in the low lighting of the restaurant and does not come anywhere close to re-creating the exact hue of what was set before me. Jack with your monitor settings for about 20 minutes and remove all the red hue from your screen. The result will be somewhat close to the 1950's travel trailer turquoise tint in the bowl. The lady's purse in the top left corner of the picture is closer to the real thing.


Oh wait! Let me also interject that the margaritas tasted like the Daquiri Ice sherbet at Baskin Robbins, so it really wasn't like I was drinking at all!

So, MyPoolBoy asks the poor little waiter guy what it is -- and PoorLittleWaiterGuy proceeds to recite the ingredients to us: avacodoes, sour cream, cilantro... and then -- because PoorLittleWaiterGuy failed to realize that when I ordered my margarita, I required a child's plate margarita so my mouth wouldn't go into high gear -- -- I then added (with a rather loud blurt) "...and EASTER EGG DYE!"

MyPoolBoy was a tad bit mortified.
I was laughing uncontrollably.
The usual.

Daddy's Little Girl

One of my friends said that her husband said that she is starting to look more like her father and she is not sure how to take it.

How I would take it would be that MyPoolBoy would not get laid for at least 22 business days.

Unless my dad was some really hot drag queen like Chandler's dad on "Friends."

Boob Sweat

wtf?

Well crap

5 things

I was desperate enough to drink my cheap-a$$ bottle of zinfandel that I put ICE CUBES in it to chill it.

I Lied

It's 4 things: I was gonna add my new teaching partner to my Facebook, but I can't remember her effing maiden name.

Sometimes inebriation is a bi+ch.

2 Things

No wait. 3 things.

1: Where do the random SHOES on the highways and byways of America come from? What kind of bender did you go on to leave ONE shoe in the middle of the road?

B: I told MyPoolBoy to drive by the house on our way home from the liquor store so that I could admire the new paint job. And he did - like at 68 miles an hour. I told him I would never be in a gang with him because he doesn't give you enough time to aim during a drive-by. So - MyPoolBoy / me --- not the same gang.

Finally: I totally think someone hypnotized MyPoolBoy's dayum cat..... Oh wait. No. Maybe he got on the counter and drank some wine.

Whoa.

I totally have never seen the words "liquor store" on my phone screen before.

Sage Advice

Dude. If you drive your car through the front wall of the liquor store they will definitely NOT sell you anything.

My New Favorite website

texts from last night

These rank right up there with Felix's voicemail: "call me back and tell me how the night ended"

It's Cryin' Time Again

Been watching the howler monkeys yesterday and today. TheDivaMonster went to the "crying corner" a LOT. I told MyPoolBoy the last time she went that I felt like I wanted to go with her and take a glass of wine with me!

8 MILES WIDE

Banned Camp video suggestion o' the day. My new favorite song.

Problem

How are we supposed to finish painting this house with only 3 cans of beer left?

Bus Leaves at Noon

So MyPoolBoy has been making smarta$$ comments because Pepita offered to buy me a ticket to see my next husband, Mr. Rick Springfield, in concert in Ft. Worth if I could just figure out how to get there. MyPoolBoy said he would buy me a bus ticket to go - "thank God and Greyhound," I would be Rick's problem then, and all that.

It will be the "Rick of Love" bus on VH1 -- watch me!

Tact from the Tacky

A quandary. You see, as hard as it still is for some of you to believe, I am a bit of a bi+ch. And this personality affliction only worsens when I am under the influence of anything fermented. So when the opportunity to rate pageant contestants presented itself, I did not decline - in fact I embraced it with an eerie psycho-esque zeal. And I am trying really hard to blog this with a bit of tact -- at least until the person I want to win actually has the tiara firmly on her head.

Anyhoo - I was drinking Sangria (yummy) and rating the pageant contestants and it is not beneath me to give everyone that I am NOT voting for 1 star and my favorite girl 5 stars. You know, cuz I'm trash. Not only did I do THAT, but I did it multiple times, using every email address I possess.

At first, I was telling myself that it was just a numbers game, nothing personal to the other girls. About halfway into the glass of Sangria, I began to justify my actions with actual REASONS why I felt the girls I gave 1's deserved those ratings.

For instance: one girl had an unfortunate thing going on with her hair - I immediately thought of a Banned Camper statement describing this type of hairdon't as "she must've gotten mad at her head" - 1 star. Little Miss ______ (I won't say the state) looked like she also has a future as Miss October - 1 star. I was taken aback by one chick with HUGE earrings that quite possibly been won for her out of a crane machine by her little brother. It is sweet that she felt she should honor her sibling's mad hand-eye-coordination skills by wearing his prize in her profile photo, but - 1 star, nonetheless. I also gave 1 star to the chicks who looked older than me in their profile photos.

That's it - I make myself feel better by knocking others. I will be the first to admit it's tacky, but it is a personality flaw that I am afraid is undoable at this point in my life. It's in the old dog/ new tricks clause of my WTP contract.

How to Have the Perfect Morning

Howler-Monkeyless.

Slept late.

Waffles.

Butter.

Syrup.

Whipped cream.

Strawberries.

In that order.

Flawless except that MyPoolBoy said my Mickey Mouse shirt is slutty.

Starbucks Racket

Crap! Starbucks is a noisy place -- I keep hearing the cappuccino machine or bean grinder or air compresser/chain saw combination or whatever the h3ll it is that is making all that racket. Plus the baristas screaming out everyone's order when it is done. Lynn, for cripes sake pick up your effing grande skinny vanilla latte already!

Then the guys next to me are talking about their "motorcycles" and HAND TO GAWD one of them just had to explain what a Goldwing was to the other one. Yeah, these guys are hard-core. I cower in fear.

Fear that MyPoolBoy is going to snap and go postal before I finish my coffee. This is not his kind of place AT ALL. He has the only truck in the parking lot and not a single other soul in the place is wearing boots.

Liar Liar Pants on Fire

Just overheard a guy sitting here at the bakery answer his phone and tell the office/work on the other end that he was at Home Depot picking "it" up right now.

I should go on a scavenger hunt for other 10 Commandments being broken today - I could give myself a prize if I spot all 10. Do any of y'all KNOW all of the 10 Commandments????

Where's my Bible? Oh yeah, it's with my hat.

Transcript of an Actual WTP - Felix Conversation

Felix (to WTP): Bi+ch.
WTP: Wh0re.
Felix: Barbie Bi+ch!
WTP: Koozie Wh0re!

How to Deter Carding

The bartender at one of the bars last night thought he'd be really cute and card all 13 of us obviously mature ladies. I honestly couldn't find my ID in my dayum purse (at the bottom in a little change purse). Here's what I DID find and proceed to lay out on the bar:
My tiara
Pink cell phone
Rubber chicken
Hair brush
Jesse's Girl stripper makeup
Vanilla Cream hand cream
Cougar Bingo card
Feathery fuzzy pink pen
Sally Hansen hot pink nail polish
sunscreen-on-a-clip
a maxi pad
my special lie detector (tape measure)
and the only forms of identification I was able to retrieve - my Bi+ch card and my Mensa card (why just be a bi+ch when you can be a smart bi+ch?)

I was the last person of our group that he carded. You think it was the maxi pad?

Big Game Hunt

We had a failed attempt to play Cougar Bingo last night. Perhaps it is a regional thing and the Arizona Cougars are different from the Texas Cougars. Perhaps it is because the places we frequent lend the atmosphere to attract Barflies more than Cougars. Perhaps it is because we were hopelessly drunk and busy dancing with each other. At any rate, it devolved into more of a scavenger hunt after we added some of our own "spaces."

Ear cuffs.
Wearing shirt as dress.
Banana clip in hair.
Dances by standing in one spot and finger-pointing.
Wears keys on arm.
National Geographic boobs.
Applies lipstick without removing cigarette from mouth.

At this point of the evening it starts becoming painfully obvious that our little list is about US.
Tramp stamp.
Hits on guys at convenience store around the corner.
Shaves armpits in car en route to the bar.
Rhinestones on clothing AND accessories.
Animal body parts / not cow leather (i.e., fur, feathers, shells, miscellaneous skin) below the waistline.
Duffel bag-sized purse - bonus points if Poise or Serenity pads fall out when reaching for wallet.
Sucking on unlit cigar.
Beat-up straw cowboy hat.
Captain's hat. Takes pictures of self and friends.
Wh0re-scavenging for koozies and doo-rags from random strangers on porch of the bar. ("cuz it's my birthday!")

Dream a Little Dream

Perhaps in the great cosmic retribution of dreamland, Felix had a stupid dream last night. Worse than my Hoff nightmare.

She dreamt that she parked her bicycle behind a store. Two Keebler elves were trying to steal said bicycle, and she caught them. She had to apprehend the wee ones by carrying them by the back of their collars on their shirts and turning them in to the proper authorities.

That's what she gets for kicking me last night.

Sleeping with Felix

Well I sorta survived the first day/night at the coast with the Lucilles. As usual I slept with Felix and about 5 or 6 am I was awakened by her KICKING THE FOOL out of me. At first, I was startled: was I snoring? am I rolling over on top of her and crushing her tiny little body?

But let me clarify - this was not just a "hey move over" kick. This was a series of rabbit kicks, like when you scratch a dog in the right spot behind its ear and its leg starts moving on its own out of control. It would have been hilarious if it hadn't have been before sunrise - and it hadn't woken me up just enough to cause me to have a weirda$$ dream when I rolled back over.

By weirda$$ I mean it had David Hasselhoff in it.

David Hasselhoff's kid went to our school for some reason. And David Hasselhoff's kid knocked over a grandfather clock that was standing in the middle of the open area by the library at school for some reason. So I was telling David Hasselhoff's kid that he was going to have to either pay $10 to replace the glass in the front that broke, or sit in after school detention for 2 days. Or he could pay $5 and sit in after school detention for 1 day.

David Hasselhoff was not happy.

He came up to school and was griping at me because he didn't think it was fair to make his kid pay for the glass because we shouldn't have had the grandfather clock in the middle of the open area anyway.

Then I woke up.
I don't know if it was the barbecue we ate or the shots we were drinking at midnight, but I'm scared to go to sleep now.

Yes, I fear the 'Hoff.

I Mistook It for Generosity

MyPoolBoy and I are having breakfast at the bakery and he has his usual artery congealing friedeggsbaconsausagehashbrownstoast and he sweetly offered me a piece of his bacon - and then said "next time it's gonna probably have arsenic on it or something."

They can trace arsenic. And he doesn't even have a plan for disposing of my body.

Amateur.

MyPoolBoy - the Cable Interview

MyPoolBoy was on the phone with the cable company because the on-demand movies weren't working. At first he was apparantly talking to a machine that was programmed to respond to voice commands... and it didn't understand Texas drawl.

Name: MyPoolBoy
Phone Number: XXX-XXX-XXXX
Zip Code: ZZZZZ
Cable Code Error: ####

Then there was the obvious "please hold for the next available service representative" - and then after listening to him state his name and phone number and repeat our zipcode twice I started ad-libbing the "rest" of the conversation for him:

My turn-offs are talking to machines and guys that ask too many questions.

I laughed. He didn't.
The usual.

Things I Love

Melon Smirnoff vodka in a medium cherry limeade from Sonic.

That's it.

I don't love anything else.

See What I Put Up With?

MyPoolBoy was in fine form last night as he threatened to make me "accidentally" die by spontaneous human combustion. Here's his plan: He will fart under the blankets and instead of the usual holding me under until I kick him unmercifully and he has to relent -- he has devised a plan by which he will make sure the methane is contained under the blankets, then light a match and throw it under -- WHOOOSH!

Soooooo....This morning we're sitting in the bakery (cuz summer school is OVER!!!!!!!!!!!!!) and he notes that the place is empty. Duh. We're usually here on Saturday and its packed. ANYWAY.... after that observation I chimed in that he could run through the front tables naked and no one would care (unless, of course someone from the street saw him through the plate glass window). He proceeds to undo his fly on his pants. WTF? I told him that if he gets arrested for indecency I would NOT bail him out of jail because I am saving all my money for my trip to the coast and he would just have to wait until I got back.

I need a leash for him. And probably a rolled up newspaper.

Ghetto Lovin' -- Summer Nights Grease Parody

I'm not getting the house clean...

Crack Pipe (Rehab Parody)

I'm finding all kinds of crap on YouTube today!

Surgery Song

For QueenB, on the occasion of her hysterectomy:

At first I was afraid - I was petrified.
Thought I could never live without my womb inside.
But I spent so many nights thinking this period's too long
and I felt wrong
I thought they can yank it out with tongs

So now I'm back... from surgery
and I no longer have to send my husband to the store for me
I should've done this long ago if I'd known how it would be -
I feel so damned relieved to have this hysterectomy

Oh yes it's why .... I will survive.
I won't have any PMS -- my kids will stay alive.
I've got all my life to play
Don't need no Tampax in the way
And I'll survive
I will survive

PSA

"Good Morning Starshine" by Oliver makes absolutely no effin' sense whatsoever.
Maybe if I was a little less inebriated, I would "get it"

Or more inebriated - it WAS the 60s -- Dr. Seuss was smoking the truffula trees or something.

that diddy gloop gloopy part is completely messin' with my head - what the h3ll is that???

Doing my part to keep the public informed of potential earworms.

Go Cougars!

On top of the fact that I was planning on making a t-shirt for the coast that said Go Cougars on it, I found this little gem of a game on a BannedCamper's blog: Cougar Bingo

The photos are priceless and her story about throwing up in front of the teeny boppers is HILARIOUS.

Unholy Smell Part 2: Cougars on Parade!

True Love

We're sitting on the back porch basically having "vice night" (chocolate, wine, cigars) and listening to a love song radio show with dedications, etc. The DJ just asked folks to call in if someone touches your heart...

MyPoolBoy said he wants to touch my heart - and go under my bra and straight for my boob to get to it.

Or reach his hand through my chest and kill me.

psycho.

Here's the Skinny

I got some of those diet pills that are supposed to reduce stress in women to help you metabolize and "let go" of unwanted belly fat (like there is any belly fat that I WANTED)... and I'm reading on the box the additional benefits like it controls moodiness (THAT was what made MyPoolBoy jerk it from my hand and fling it directly into our Walmart cart) - anyway - the moodiness thing: it says that you will begin feeling the effects within a few hours.
I must say that I DO feel some sort of an effect. I took 2 pills as directed on the box - then I put on my red & white bikini and got into the pool with a couple of beers. So here I am, 2 pills and 2 Miller Chills later - I am happy to report that these pills work!

Oh, I still have belly fat. I just don't give a shi+.

T-Shirt Idea

So I've been stuck with nothing to write for a few days, but I keep coming up with all these crazy ideas for t-shirts to wear at the coast (maybe I should stick them on CafePress - if I can remember my account login!)

Here's the latest:
Mullet County Genealogical Society
and then some smart a$$ comment or a really effed up flow chart or non-branching tree

ahhhh, red wine - it's like an enema for writer's block

On the 6th of June

"It was the dark of the moon on the 6th of June in a Kenworth pullin' logs"

Convoy!

I just sent a text to my dear friends with these lyrics.
It is 8 freakin:30 on the first Saturday morning of our summer.

They're gonna kick my a$$.

However, it is the only song I know that contains the inspirational phrase: "chartreuse microbus" in the lyrics. Good times, good times.

I Got Carted (or, The custodians have to wax the floors now)

School was out at 12 today.

I got home home after 1. Not because I was working....

Baloney and Bi+chslap found a shopping cart that some well-meaning local merchant donated to us when we were making all the moves to the new building. A tool in the hands of some. A toy in the hands of the Lucilles.

Somehow it was left behind in a room down the old hall. Felix and I got into the basket and Hyphen stood on the end while Baloney and Bi+chslap pushed us around the new hall where all the ramps were. Then the other grade levels and staff heard the noise of us screaming and came out to take a turn, too.

I have to admit it was a bit scary going around the corners because I was facing the handle of the cart and had no idea if we were gonna bite it or not with them steering and laughing and trying not to pee themselves. And I was sober. Definitely puts the fear into if you are actually cognizant of the possible impending death or severe cranial injuries that could literally be around the corner.

Run, Joey, Run

Bwahahahahahahahaha! Hadn't heard this since I was in 4th grade or so. I've always thought it was one of the corniest songs ever. The kids on the video make it even better. Enjoy!

PS to the Lucilles: Prepare to be bombarded with this song at Port A -- it makes me laugh.

Two Bits

Theme of the day was quarters.

Today they announce that our campus Teacher of the Year was getting a limo ride to eat lunch at a nice restaurant with her entire grade-level team. Since I had nominated my entire team, and they had declined, I got PO'd at them and told them that they were dumba$$es and had blown it for all of us. Baloney told us that the T.O.Y. had invited her to go with them because she was going to be in their grade level next year. I told Baloney that if she had gone I would have kicked her a$$ right there in front of the school and I would charge the kids 25 cents to watch, with all the proceeds going to the Relay for Life fundraiser drive.

After school, Felix and I were sitting in the office waiting on SubFriend to call us back and decide where we were going to go "unwind" for the evening. In walks a mom and a new 3rd grade student. I KNOW. A week before school is out. Since I only have 16 kids in my class, we knew I would get him, so we eavesdropped in between listening to my MP3 player and singing Elvis songs. Good cow! His name is Angel. Here's the thing about kids named Angel and Jesus -- they never are. So they are getting ready to place him in a class and Striptease comes out and asks me how many students I had in my class right now. I said 19. I'm a liar - it's funny to me. Felix interjected immediately that I was a liar.

In the meanitime, there are 2 or 3 little urchins whose parents had "forgotten" to pick them up on time. And they were on my nerves because I needed a drink and SubFriend still hadn't called us and there is no vodka at school. (I've looked) One of them got picked up, there was another one who was being really good and I gave him a quarter. Then there was the third kid. I will get this child when he gets to 3rd grade because that's the kind of little urchin they put in my class for me to "fix." And he was eating BBQ pringles and crawling around and making me insane.

Felix watched in awe as I launched into my typical it's-my-time-off-and-I-don't-like-children-during-my-time-off attitude. I said, "Little boy, what is your name?" And he told me. And I said, "Ok, I have a quarter here..." Up jumps the lad. "Now, wait. This is for you if you can sit there and be completely quiet until someone comes to get you because I've had a long week and I don't need noise right now." And I laid it on the table beside my chair - and lo and behold, he shut up. And sat still. And the principal came in and asked him a question and all he did was nod vigorously. Principal asked me what was going on and I told him I had bribed the little darling with a quarter - and pointed to the quarter on the table. Principal died laughing and told me that it was a big stretch for this particular kid, and started asking him all kinds of questions to mess with him. Good times, good times.

Boy Oh Boyardee

One of my little darlings invented a song and hip gyration exhibition that I have dubbed "The Ravioli Dance." It starts out cute. The song she sings is actually creative and funny. But then the hips start and it is just a pole and a pair of stilettos away from an alternate career path.

Curtailing the Ravioli Dance has been a priority mission for about 3 weeks now.

The Ravioli Dance snuck into the spring music program of old TV themes when the girls did a routine to "I Dream of Jeannie." Even amid all the brightly-colored genie scarves waving, I recognized it from the back row.

Today, the superintendent came by my room and some of the boys did a little skit for him. And then, before I could stop it, she was standing in front of him, asking if he wanted to see her dance. I rushed over to intervene... but I was too late. It was like slow motion and I couldn't get there before The Ravioli Dance in all its inappropriate glory commenced right there in the doorway, much to my mortification.

So. I gently admonish her to return to her seat and as I reach over to guide her in that direction, Super leans in laughing, and whispers to me "Did you teach her that?"

9 more days.

Sack Lunch

Tomorrow is Field Day at school. I need to pack a sack lunch to eat as a picnic with the kids. I think a can of chocolate frosting would be a good lunch. Not exactly the prime example of healthy eating that I should be setting for the students.

But it would be good.

And it would fit in a sack.

I Just Don't Have the Time or Energy to be Psycho Right Now

So, I'm checking out MyPoolBoy's latest comment on Facebook and then I see that the "groupies" jumped right on and commented back at him - one of them went so far as to offer to make him homebaked cookies. WTF???? Am I completely off my nut or is that borderline flirting (or maybe even flat out flirting)? I'm getting tired of being told that I'm too jealous and him spouting off that he should just get off of Facebook blah blah blah.

Meanwhile, I'm drinking all the red wine I can to refrain from being a complete bi+ch until I can get outside confirmation that my bi+chiness about it is even marginally justified.

I've also thought about setting up a bogus account of some fake ex-boyfriend and posting stuff to myself and see how he feels - but that's kind of psycho... not that I'm above it, I just don't have the time or the energy to be psycho right now.

This Is Nuts

One of the BannedCamp ladies blogged about discovering these chips on her recent trip to London. Told MyPoolBoy I needed to find a place that would ship Walkers Crisps from England to us. They are cooked in sunflower oil and are therefore a healthy choice for chip-eaters such as him. He was not impressed

And they are SQUIRREL flavored.

Now he is is intrigued.

I'll spare you the ensuing commentary about squirrels and beavers, cajun or otherwise.

Too bad the flavor lost their consumer challenge and these chips will be gone from shelves forever....

Walkers Cajun Squirrel Flavored Crisps

You Can Tell I'm Sick Because Someone Got New Socks

I found the tell-tale wrapper in the floor of the kitchen. A sure sign that they ran out of clean laundry because I've been bed-ridden for 4 days with strep.

In that time I have logged some interesting numbers:

103.8 - highest my temperature climbed
32 - ounces of lime-flavored Gatorade Rain that I have consumed
3 - number of cats that have napped on the bed with me
21 - total number of kleenexes I had to spit into because it hurts to swallow my own saliva (my tonsils or some glands or another are so swollen they are protruding out of my neck!)
4 - pounds I have lost due to the aforementioned inability to swallow
7 - average number of models per day that Booger Cat and I have watched get eliminated from the America's Next Top Model Marathon
Umpteen - the number of feminine hygiene product commercials that are on daytime television - I'm talking tampons, yeast infection treatments, yeast infection tests, birth control pills, birth control rings, pregnancy tests, ovulation tests, and amped up KY jelly designed to turn women from unwilling participants in their marital relations into "a screamer." Believe me, after having a 5-foot Q-tip shoved up my nose so the doctors could go spelunking in the name of medicine to rule out swine flu, I don't really want to think of any of my other orifices having anything else anywhere near them.
825 - amount of mg of amoxicillin in ONE of the two gigantic pink pills I have to swallow twice daily


That's my THUMBNAIL it's next to. And here's what's unbelievable - I LOST one of them when I opened the bottle to take this shot. Yeah. I know. It's like losing a sequoia tree, but somehow I managed to do it.

I knew this was gonna happen. Stress causes me to get sick and the other day (after a particularly frustrating day of bureaucratic retardation at school) my cheese completely slid off my cracker and I threw my purse down the aisle at Walmart.

So it is possible that I may have angered the Walmart gods.

Oh Baby

Yahoo Answers

First of all - this stupid guy is breeding. Second some girl was stupid enough to let him "impregat" her.

The Mother of All Questions

MyPoolBoy just asked me if today is Mother's Day or tomorrow.

Guess that means that he hasn't really thought through this year's card or gift, huh?

Memo To My Son

Attention: Thunderduck

From: Me

Subject: Your car parked across the street from my house

Message: The neighborhood pigeons have gotten extremely lazy and are no longer roosting in the trees aiming for your vehicle. They have now taken to standing directly on your windshield and crapping at point blank range.

Boom Chicka Boom

I was talking to NurseRatchet yesterday and she told me something HILARIOUS about the bomb threat. Once we were evacuated, the bomb squad and dogs came sniffing around in their kevlar for about 3 hours... they went through all the rooms, checking cabinets, desks, etc.

Good heavenly days - can you imagine what they thought of my classroom with all the plastic flamingos and rubber chicken?!?!?!? It's such a mess it already looked like a bomb had gone off in there anyway. "Whoops, Ted, we're too late for this room."

Anyway, the guys had already had one heartbeat-skipping episode when the found a rubber snake in the cabinet of one of the Ethels' rooms.
So they make their way through the building and end up in the nurse's clinic to continue their thorough searching and sniffing for the non-existent bomb. While they were back in the office part by her desk they had the next big scare.

Now. Let me just interject a tidbit of information for y'all: NurseRatchet is OCD/Anal Retentive, ummmm, I mean, "organized." Like all school nurses, she has a schedule of when kids need to take meds or come in for asthma inhalers or whatever. But NurseRatchet has taken it to the next level and actually has about 15 alarm clocks labeled with children's names set to go off at the time that each child is supposed to come to her.

One of the alarms went off while a bomb squad guy was in her office.

He told her she needed to pay to have his pants laundered.

OMG Y'all

I am a b+ch.

I did NOT click the button that says likes this on the ExGFs comment when she left MyPoolBoy's friends list BUT she got back ON his friends list today and I SWEAR she is posting within 10 minutes of everything he puts on there. So after her last comment I just commented "piss piss mark mark" to let MyPoolBoy know that I was marking my territory... as long as I am the last one to post I can still hold onto the claim that I have staked.

If I Had Known We Were Going to Have a Bomb Threat

... I would have worn more comfortable shoes!

We were evacuated from school and sent down the street to another building for 3 hours. On the day of the TAKS science test. Which the poor kids had to come back and finish after having been cooped up in a dreary stuffy building all that time! They had to finish the test - why? Because TEA is off the deep end with this testing shi+, that's why.

Pretty much my kids made up all kinds of stories about why we were being evacuated: swine flu, gas leak, fire -- the best being that the plastic flamingos had taken over the school and were holding my tiara and rubber chicken for ransom!

So, I was dog-a$$ tired this afternoon. Sat in my massage chair in my classroom and waited for 4:00 to arrive then headed to go tan/nap. Let's just say dinner involved wine - not only because of the day I'd had, but also because MyPoolBoy's ex-girlfriend from high school has been all over his Facebook lately (like every time he posts, she is responding) and I guess he figured I wasn't happy about it and something got said or whatever and she deleted him from her friends list. But not before leaving a message that simply read: So long! If I had had ONE MORE glass of wine tonight, I was gonna click that little thumbs-up sign that says your name and then posts "Likes This"

Batteries Not Included

There are times when I KNOW that some of you think that I make shi+ up. I swear, though, HAND TO GAWD that this is a true and factual representation of the "trophy" made entirely from recycled materials that will be presented by our Student Council to the class that recycles the most before May 22.

As you can see, there are plenty of inappropriate comments just waiting to be uttered:

1) Which student council "member" designed this trophy?

2) This picture was on a poster that needs to be "hung" in our classrooms to promote the recycling drive.

3) It was admitted that they might need to re-"tool" the design before the trophy is actually presented.

4) Is one of the recycled materials by any chance "wood?"

5) One of the Ethels asked "Are batteries included?"





The answer to #5 is no, by the way.

This Was Supposed to Be a Draft

And it posted anyway -- weird. So I'm updating it and making it make a little more sense to people besides me. Here goes:

During one of our neverendingfacultymeetings, they sent over all the insurance reps to tell us exactly how much more we will be paying in premiums next year. One of the plans had deductibles so high I told Felix you might as well die and use your life insurance to cover the funeral costs instead of shelling out money for the deductible and the other 20% it would cost to keep you alive.

Then on page 30something of the booklet it compares plans' costs of having a baby vs. a heart bypass vs. gall bladder surgery or some bull shi+. H3ll, f I found out I was having a baby at this point I would need the bypass, too! Felix was telling me to shut up at this point.

One more thing: There were numerous dress code violations on some of the little girls today, but the most memorable were the words on little girls shirt "If you've got the tricks, I've got the treats"
Not just inappropriate in its double-entendre, but the 5th grade boys would want to read with their finger to track under the words. Or ask for a colored overlay if they were dyslexic and then want to hold the overlay over the words by themselves.

Age Discrimination

So PseudoGrandUrchin/Howler Monkey #1 (TheDivaMonster) is turning 3 tomorrow and we are having birthday dinner and cupcakes tonight at our house. Sitting around and wearing tiaras cuz she wants a princess birthday. H3ll, Ill take any excuse to wear a tiara.

2 incidents of particular note have occurred: PseudoGrandUrchin/Howler Monkey #2 (1 year old - Snotface) ate 2 chocolate cupcakes and proceeded to jump on the trampoline. Ralphed them both up and then went back to playing. Also, TheDivaMonster tried on her new little princess tutu and was walking around lifting it up and showing her shorts underneath.

Why is it when little kids throw up and lift their skirts everyone says they are adorable but when I do it everyone says I'm drunk?

Double Cross

How did I manage to find the church that has the biggest bucket o' crazy that Mullet County has to offer? If you remember a couple of weeks ago, the MusicMan "called me out" about my music/hymn opinions in front of the congregation during the service. After a couple of weeks of cooling-off period (I think I understand handgun laws a little more, now) and some soul-searching, I decided to give him the benefit of the doubt, suck it up and put on my big girl panties and go back to church to let it all go. Forgive and forget and all that.

Fast forward to yesterday - Easter Sunday. Easter was always a big deal since I was little with the whole new dress thing and all thanks to my grandma, so I was excited. What better day to make my comeback appearance? It would give me a chance to wear my new Lilly Pulitzer bargain dress. I probably should note here that I am usually the ONLY one who ever wears a dress to church. The rest all wear pants or jeans. Which makes what transpired even all the more insane.

And then Deuce and I decided that we should wear hats to church. We set out shopping for her and Heathen an Easter bonnet (I already had plans to wear my straw boater with a pink ribbon). Once we had that done, I felt a little better about going back. I had a bit of tossing and turning with the anticipation of what I would say to MusicMan, but I felt like it was time for me to deal with it. So. We go to church and MusicMan is not there. I relaxed a bit - and let my guard down - like a FOOL.

All was going well, I was glad to be back. Believe it or not, y'all I actually LIKE church - or at least I used to. About 15 minutes before the service was over, Deuce took Heathen and Snotface outside, and Heathen left her little hat in the pew. (This is important for later)

We were literally 10 minutes from it all being over and me escaping an entire church service unscathed and thus restoring my faith in the ability to attend a house of worship without being slammed in front of everyone. And then it happened again. This time by the preacher. He went into his Easter message and as he started to wind down and wrap it up, he talked about remembering the true meaning of Easter, it's not all baskets and eggs... Then he went on about how his kids never had the Easter Bunny or Santa Claus because they wanted them to know the TRUTH, etc. etc. etc. He said "you ladies look very nice in your hats but you should not be following the ways of the world and celebrating with your Easter bonnets either." Yes. Dissing me in front of everyone - over a hat.

At that moment I will have to say that I was extremely proud of my reaction. I didn't sit there all lady-like and nod sheepishly, and I didn't swallow hard and remove my hat to appease him. Somewhere in the course of the past few weeks, I got ballsy and bitchy enough that I didn't care WHERE I was, I was going to really stand up for myself. It was one of those dramatic moments like in a movie, you know, what you always later WISH you had done but were too chicken-shi+ to do or didn't think of doing at the time. I shot MyPoolBoy a "I-can't-believe-this-just-happened-AGAIN" look, snapped my Bible shut, stood up, walked to the aisle, picked up the hat that Heathen left in her pew, and WALKED OUT OF CHURCH!

I guess I'm going to h3ll, people. Over hats.

The Eyes Have It

There is a little chicky in line at the bakery this morning and I think she should sue whoever did the unfortunate tweezing or waxing on her eyebrows. They are severely PLUCKED UP.

Let's just say that they are angular enough to be used as a referential teaching tool for the Pythagorean theorem.

I'm not nice. I know. And I've even had coffee!

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I Love a Parade

So. The county seat of Mullet County is having a big festival this weekend and one of the attractions is a pet parade for the kids. The premise is that the kiddos dress their poor unsuspecting furry family members in a ridiculous costume of some sort and march them down through the town square on a leash for the joyous opportunity to be admired/humiliated by the masses that gather along the streets.

Please note that I am not even going to address the concept of dressing up a cat for such an event. Cats are smarter and have enough sense to know when their humans are trying to cause them undue embarrassment. I know of not one single person who has ever successfully decorated a cat in any manner and survived the ordeal without a trip to the minor emergency for severe lacerations and several rounds of antibiotics.

Now I know some people claim their dogs "like it"when they get all gussied up with painted toenails and bows and doggy sweaters, but not so with our little Weezie. Here's the thing... not only does she detest having you touch her paws - she is exceptionally freakazoid when it comes to her toenails. We can hardly trim them, much less paint them. We got one of those doggy dremel kinds of nail-filing thingys for her so she runs when she even hears the blender now cuz she thinks its someone after her toenails. And dressing her up is out of the question as well. MonsterInLaw gave us some old poodle sweaters (now we've resorted to hand me downs for the dog, no less) and when you put them on Weasel she lays down on her back with all 4 legs in the air as if she has died and is awaiting someone to place a lily upon her chest.

So - no pet parade for us... I can envision the Weeze with one toenail painted, frozen from whatever costume we place on her, laying on her back like a crack whore - legs in the air -- and us pulling the leash just dragging her down the road.

Help - I've Fallen

So I FELL OUT OF BED after drinking too much red wine Saturday night. MyPoolBoy laughed at me (because that is how he demonstrates his dire concern for my safety and well-being) and then asked me if I fell.

He says that I pulled my hands and head up over the edge of the mattress a la Kilroy Was Here, and replied "yep." Then he asked if I was ok. "Yep." Finally, he wanted to know if I needed any help - "nope." So he let me crawl my way back into the bed and like the true loving man that he is... grabbed the back of the t-shirt I was sleeping in to keep me from doing it again!

More Powerful Than a Speeding Bullet

Bulletproof weave. I feel much safer with my extensions in...
Attractive, yet functional.

Edited to add: Felix offered to shoot me in the head to see if it works - I better get some Kevlar extensions and a LOT more vodka before we try it

To the Curb

Seriously. Driving home from school today, I pass a house that has its trash set at the curb and beside the dumpster is a myriad of boxes and crates with mens' shoes, boots, clothes, etc. in them.

Now. It COULD be that someone cleaned out their closet, or that someone died.... but my first thought was that someone got kicked out!!!!!!!!

BWAHAHAHAHAHA!

Yes, I'm a Little Bit Evil

Played an unusually hilarious and semi-elaborate April Fools' Day prank on our principal today. Got law enforcement and central office personnel involved, even. Can't really say too much else except that we are MEAN.

I was the soul who was brave enough to go to c/o and ask for them to play along. Was told that I have no fear, do I?

Nope, it's more like I have no shame.

Also remarked during a grade-level meeting today that we could get rid of a body out front where they demo'd the old building because there's a big ol' hole out there. Everyone is agreeing and thinking of other holes around the creek, etc. that we could use for body disposal. I stopped them. No. Y'all don't get it -- they are going to PAVE over that hole out there....

The assistant principal said that I scare her.

Gone to the Dogs

Here are the results of a Facebook quiz I took a little while ago. This explains a lot:

WTP completed the quiz "If You Were A Dog, What Dog Would You Be..." with the result Jack Russell.
You are extremely hyper and always running around. Your friends adore you, but at the same time, if they get too much of you they will become very irritated. . Take the quiz! about a minute ago · Comment · LikeUnlike · Take the quiz! · Create a Quiz.

My Comments: I am MOLLY! I am Felix's Killer Ear-Eating dog!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Waxing Poetic (or at least waxing my legs)

Apple martinis sometimes can be the catalyst for the BEST ideas! So. I have decided that I need to wax my legs, but I have never been one to go to salons for anything except an occasional pedicure and pretty much have always bought strips at Wally World and be my own beauty operator when it comes to depilatory services.

I was sitting here this afternoon thinking I MIGHT could use duct tape to achieve my goal (remember, y'all there is vodka involved here!) So I decided that I would log my progress, conclusions, and findings here for all of you to use for future reference (or for me to use for future reference in case I sober up and need to remember what the h3ll happened to my legs).

Trial #1

Preparatory Step 1.1: Mix apple martini using a formula of 2 parts appletini mix to 1 part vodka. Drink an entire glass to achieve desired buzz effect that provides my brain with enough lubricant to come up with a brilliant idea such as this. Kill enough brain cells to decrease my genius IQ down to average so that I can't tell myself that it is, in fact, NOT a brilliant idea.

Preparatory Step 1.2: Acquire duct tape. Not an easy feat, since it is used A LOT around here due to the fact that not only is WTP white trash, but almost every male in the kingdom is also genetically white trash by at least 50% on a Punnett square. Discover duct tape in Lurch's room - probably left over from prom (duct tape tuxedo). Hopefully has not been used in any major crimes that would necessitate its confiscation by law enforcement thereby making me a wrongfully accused suspect through fingerprinting process.

Preparatory Step 1.3: Insert outdoor speaker jack into headphone hole (what the h3ll do you call that little hole???) and blast Rick Springfield loud enough to sufficiently to cover any anticipated screams and/or expletives that would cause the neighbors to think that domestic violence was taking place.

Preparatory Step 1.4: Log in to blog (You are HERE .) and begin process of explaining my intentions for the experiment. Hyposthesis: Duct tape, long known to have a million and one household uses, will now be able to tout the existence of the million and twoth household use -- hair removal. (I KNOW that twoth is not a real word but it sounds so goshdarn funny!)

Preparatory Step 1.5: Refill martini glass. Dayum! Did I already finish one? Constant in this concoction is the 1 part vodka. Change the amount of appletini mix to a variable of 1 part instead of 2.

Procedural Step 1.1: (finally!) Tear off a strip of duct tape measuring approximately 8 inches in length - does anyone know what that converts to in centimeters for the European readers to grasp this concept?

Procedural Step 1.2: Apply strip of duct tape in the direction of hair growth (I should write directions for personal care products, shouldn't I?).

Procedural Step 1.3: Take a deep breath. No. Seriously. Take a really deep mutha-effing breath.

Procedural Step 1.4: Pull tape quickly in opposite direction of hair growth.

Data Findings 1: Nothing. Tape didn't really stick for shi+ and forget pulling any hair off.

Conclusion 1: I forgot that I put lotion on my legs this morning. Will need to wash said lotion from my skin and refill my martini glass before proceeding any further.

Trial #2

Procedural Step 2.1: Go back inside to make another apple martini using the previous measure of 1 part appletini mix to 1-ish parts vodka. Answer MyPoolBoy's question of what the h3ll am I doing. Ignore his eye roll. Use the excursion inside to also procure a wet washcloth to wipe the lotion from my legs. (Hey, at least I remember what I was going inside for in the first place!)

Procedural Step 2.2: Wipe down legs with washcloth, taking care to remove all traces of aforementioned lotion from my legs. Remark to the cat that this sumbi+ch is sure cold since I let it set while I was typing on my blog.

Procedural Step 2.3: Wait for moisture on my legs to dry since I still have enough of my mental faculties to realize that if the duct tape wouldn't stick to lotioned legs, it sure as shi+ won't stick to wet legs. Drink a little more appletini. Remark to no one in particular that I need a pedicure.

Procedural Step 2.4: Repeat Procedural Steps 1.1, 1.2, 1.3, and 1.4.

Procedural Step 2.5: Yell motherf*&#$er as quietly as you can.

Data Findings 2: Success! A noticeable amount of hair was ripped from the delicate follicles of my legs and retained on the adhesive side of the tape. Note that a relatively miniscule amount of epithelial cells were removed in the process. Run into the house and yell at MyPoolBoy to get the camera. (Photos may be posted later. Or they may not be posted later. Who knows?)

Conclusion: Duct tape does, in fact, have a million and TWO household uses. Consider using duct tape to do a bikini wax. Scold myself for being so inebriated that I would consider such a thing. Allow some of the other voices in my head to scold me for not being inebriated enough to give it a try (chicken! Shut up you sadist! Oh yeah- if I'm a sadist - that'll make you a masochist!)

Postliminary Summation: Decide to screw it and go back inside to get another appletini, leaving legs only partially hair-free.

Cleavage

MyPoolBoy just got caught trying to throw sticks, leaves, rocks, etc. down my shirt.

Evidently he is under the mistaken impression that God put breasts on me for target practice. I told him that I COULD start going bra-less and therefore cause him to lower his aim -- like about waist-high or so.

How to Howl for Cheap

The Lucilles had wanted to resurrect our traditional pilgrimage to Howl at the Moon in San Antonio after TAKS was over this year. Unfortunately, scheduling for a weekend that we can get hotel vacancies is a nightmare because about 1/2 of us have something conflicting on every date that we have picked thus far. So we were talking and came to the conclusion that tonight would be the only feasible time that we could swing it.

On such short notice, though, we cannot get a hotel room -- then we figured we could crash at TrailerTrash's parents house, who live north of town. Alas, this is quite a trek from Howl at the Moon and as difficult as it is to drunkly stumble a few blocks back to the hotel and successfully harass firemen at the firehouse on the corner, there is absolutely no way we could walk (stumble) to TrailerTrash's parents - even sober.

A cab ride would be expensive and would necessitate dipping into the beer money - so that idea was immediately out. What we needed was a designated driver. And there were no volunteers to stay sober -- surprise surprise surprise.

Then it came to me - we could have one of the pregnant staff members do the driving... they cannot drink and thus would be forced to be the designated driver for obvious medical reasons. Since neither of them are Lucilles (or even Ethels), it would be necessary for us to stoop to the all-time low of kidnapping one of them with some kind of makeshift weapon... probably random construction debris of some sort that still litters the playground at school. How to hold them hostage for the remainder of the evening is the only fly in the ointment. Because if they escaped and left us in the lurch we would have no one to drive us AND no one to scrape up bail money if necessary.

Dayum. Plan thwarted.

Tan Your Hide

Thunderduck is working for a collection agency (a real one - no knee-cap breaking shi+, disappointing I know). One of the places he has to do calls for is a tanning salon. He just informed me that the tanning booths are frying the girls brains.

Deuce retorted that its not much of a stretch for them to get naked and lay on their back for 20 minutes so what was he so upset about?
BWAHAHAHAHA!

Octomom

What a backhand that doc has!
Jimmy Kimmel Live - made me snort my Aquafina.

Jerk

So. MyPoolBoy emailed me and asked how I thought Jamaican jerk barbecued ribs with mango-cilantro relish and Zatarains Red Beans & Rice sounded for dinner.

Seriously? WTF?

I emailed him back and asked him if he was aware that kidnapping Emeril would be a felony.

He replied that he got the recipe from Bobby Flay's website.

I told him he was a liar. It had to be Paula Deen or some shi+ like that - Mango-cilantro relish is not a man-word.

I'm still going to get jerk barbecue ribs for dinner tonight, though! A man that is cute AND that can cook! I loves me some PoolBoy!

Holy Moly

It takes a special kind of bi+ch to get pi$$ed off at church. I, my friends, am just such a bi+ch.

To quote Gladys off of the Ellen Show - "I love Jesus, but I drink a little" -- so admittedly I am not a perfect Christian, but it is purely by choice.


Here's the scenario -- we go to a really small church (by small I mean that my family with all my kids and their wives/girlfriends/girlfriends' kids make up over half the congregation). The music minister guy is from California and a really nice guy in an irritating holy-roller sort of way. The past few weeks he and the pastor (who is from North Dakota - so he's a Yankee, but I think God lets that slide) have been asking if there were any particular songs we would like to be singing during the service. And they kept asking and they kept asking and they kept asking. So finally I relented (like a fool) and mentioned to the pastor that I grew up with a lot of the old southern small town Baptist hymns like Old Rugged Cross, Amazing Grace, etc. (you know, pretty much anything off of an Elvis gospel album) and told them I would like to have one of those to sing once in a while. Well last week - the music minister guy was out of town and the pastor chose some music for us to sing that were "old hymns" to him. After the service he pulled me aside and asked if any of the songs he sang were ones that I was familiar with - I honestly told him that I didn't know any of them... maybe it was a regional thing and that us Southern Baptists just had way different stand-bys when it came to church songs.

So last week during the week MyPoolBoy gets a phone call from the pastor, then one from the MusicMan - who told MyPoolBoy that his "eyes had been opened" after he talked to the pastor, then the pastor comes OVER on Friday night to talk to him about what exactly kind of music I liked. At this point I'm telling MyPoolBoy that they are like 2 old women and if they don't have anything better to do except worry about what songs to sing on Sunday to appease me I could tell them plenty of other REAL problems that I have that they could be praying for to take their mind off of the music controversy. I don't know what the two of them were saying to each other to get each other so worked up, but I really didn't care and they were making a gigantic deal out of something really nitpicky and stupid.

So today we go to church -- last day of spring break -- getting ready to wind down before we start the downhill slide for the rest of the year. And the music service started and smack in the middle of all the other songs was "In the Garden." I'm thinking - cool. That'll hold me for a couple of weeks, maybe everybody is finally getting it, and they'll leave me alone.

no.

not at all.

Because obviously MusicMan doesn't respect the dead and he was going to beat a dead horse right there in God's house.

Service goes on -- and at the end the pastor usually opens up for praise or discussion or testimony before we all go home. MusicMan starts to tell about blessings he's received from some people when he lived in California for his music ministry there, and then he launches into how he knows his ministry can bless people no matter what songs he chooses to sing and that people need to open their hearts to a more "normal" way of worship, don't worry about the King James version, "thys and thous don't make it holy" blah blah blah. (Never mind that the people who spoke with thys and thous were the very people that came and founded this whole crazy idea of freedom of worship in this country 400 years ago so that HE would have the right to sing whatever he wanted) It was like he was peeing on the music portion of the service so that his territory was clearly marked. Everyone knew who he was talking to - I DID defend myself a little, just commenting that some of the older hymns are almost poetic - like the Psalms - and there is a traditional, historical value to them. That was about the end of it, then they did the service dismissal and I left VERY quickly.

Thunderduck noted that I was out the door and sitting in the truck yelling at no one before my seat in the pew had even gotten cool.

Here is where it is a good thing that we are Baptists and there is not any communion wine anywhere near me during worship-time (considering that I am a major lightweight and even a sip of alcohol puts my mouth in gear) because I did NOT:

*Stand up on the pew and tell him to Eff off
*Bi+ch slap him
*Throw a hymnal at him and tell him to pick a song and shut up
*Light the wooden cross in the churchyard on fire in an attempt to scare his hippie a$$ back to California
*Draw a line through the middle of the sanctuary for North vs. South so the yankees could have the front half with the musical instruments and sound system and us southerners could claim the back half of the pews so we can sit in the last row like good Baptists
*Toilet paper his house - yet (I'm thinking I could write the lyrics to a lot of songs/hymns on the paper before I wrap his house and he could learn them as he cleans it all up)

Thunderduck's girlfriend said later at lunch (right after I asked the waitress if she could bring me vodka straight up in a Mason jar) that she couldn't believe that he would poke a stick at the beehive like that (meaning our family - since we ARE about half of the congregation) - and for SURE couldn't believe he was stupid enough to poke at the QUEEN BEE.

(Sidenote: I'm thinking of calling her Deuce - as in 2 - cuz her nickname is the same as MyPoolBoy's name and if she and Thunderduck get married there will be two of them with the same name).

Thunderduck said I am the alpha male of the family and we could pay him a visit later - in the Sopranos sort of way, not in the Welcome Wagon with the iconic Protestant casserole dish in hand sort of way... unless I was gonna knock him upside the head with said casserole dish.

Corningware - the southern Baptist lady's weapon of choice.

Just Dessert

people.

Did you know this absolutely perfect food of the gods existed? What rock have I been under? Why was I not informed sooner?

Philadelphia Ready To Eat Cheesecake Filling - Review of Philadelphia Ready To Eat Cheesecake Filling

And so in this review this WOMAN (I know, a WOMAN, knocking cheesecake - is she a commie? or worse, a yankee?) tries to deter me from eating it by proclaiming it to be a "saturated fat nightmare"
SOLD!
She goes on to add that without the crust there are xyz # of calories and grams of fat -- who gives a shi+ lady? There is no need for a crust to be involved at all - me, the cheesecake filling, and the spoon - I'm a purist.

Vroooom Vroooom

MyPoolBoy is looking at some motorcycle restoration website thing so he can figure out what he wants to do with his "investment" that is blocking my car from parking all the way into the driveway.

He just said: "hey, this guy has his parked in his living room"

And I said: "he is obviously not married -- or he is not married... anymore"

Catastrophe Part II

Too much vodka - I'm seeing stuff that I shouldn't.

My warped little brain just realized that catastrophe could also be spelled "cat a$$ trophy"

So... if you have a really nice cat a$$ you could win this little prize.

Cat-astrophe

Donster Monster (my Donny cat) has had quite a spring break. His sorry a$$ came dragging up this morning after a 3-day disappearance looking like a celebrity mugshot of Nick Nolte or Courtney Love. I hope whatever it was he was doing was as much fun as his current condition seems to suggest.

This is the type of Spring Break I aspire to have someday.

All I've really accomplished in the last 3 days is to spray paint all of my office supplies Krylon Ballet Pink. Do not - I repeat - do NOT let me near any of the following if vodka or tequila has passed my lips within a 3 hour time frame:

spray paint
rhinestones
sequins
feathers
hot glue
super glue
Gorilla glue
pink stuff

PS - I wanted to title this entry "My Poor Pussy" but MyPoolBoy thought it would be too controversial since the post titles come up on Facebook and Google and whatnot. Because, you know, all my friends think that I'm all chaste and pure and shi+.

BY THE WAY: Did you know that according to Google Analytics the 3rd most popular keyword used by people who have found my blog through a search is with the term "Hand Fart?" -- I'm pretty impressed.

My Life in Song

So here's this facebook quiz thing-y. You're supposed to choose your favorite band or artist and then answer all the questions with a song title from that band/artist.

This should prove to be redundant as h3ll.

Pick a band/artist:
Rick Springfield (try to contain your absolute shock, people)

1. Are you male or female:
Jessie's Girl

2. Describe yourself:
I Get Excited (or Jessie's Girl)

3. How do you feel about yourself:
Wasted

4. Describe your last serious relationship:
I've Done Everything for You (BWAHAHAHA! - not really, how about, oh, I dunno.... Jessie's Girl!)

5. Describe your current boy/girl situation:
Affair of the Heart (or Jessie's Girl!)

6. Describe your current location:
State of the Heart

7. Describe where you want to be:
Perfect (or Jessie's Girl)

8. Your best friend is:
Everybody's Girl (HAHAHA - Felix!!!!!)
Jessie's Girl (MyPoolBoy)

9. Your favorite color is:
Hey Pinky (ok, technically this was from way back when he was in Zoot)

10. You know that:
You better Love Somebody

11. What’s the weather like:
It's Always Something

12. If your life was a television show what would it be called?
One Passenger or Jessie's Girl

so... let's recap with a visual aid:

You Had Me at Sequins and Beads

MyPoolBoy is reading out the garage sale ads to me as we plan the rest of our Saturday morning. He just announced that he found the perfect one to go to -- fabric, sewing notions, SEQUINS AND BEADS, household items...blah blah blah .... something something.... he lost me after that -- must go buy shiny things....

I told him he had me at sequins and beads!

Let Them Eat Cake

Sitting at the bakery for my Saturday morning coffee with MyPoolBoy and there is a group of wedding cake tasters at the table near us. The mother of the groom, mother of the bride, maid of honor, bride and groom. Lots of discussion and input from everyone... except the groom. They're throwing around phrases like guest servings, fondant, fuschia... he's completely confused.

So he's reading the paper. BWAHAHAHAHAHA! They got him up at 8:30 on a Saturday to come downtown and read the paper! Poor guy.

Bless his heart. You should have seen his little face light up when they brought out the groom's cake samples. They "let" him take the first taste!

Friday the 13th

Funny but sad.

So. I was on the bus today on the way to our field trip today and I commented to the kids that it was Friday the 13th.

Then I looked up and I saw that I was sitting in seat #13 on the bus.

THEN I realized that the kid in the seat next to me was named Damian.

I know.

*** insert creepyspookyscary Toccata and Fugue music here***

So I added these observations to my comments to the kids. And Damian says"Oh wow! The 13th!" And I said I KNOW... and I'm thinking - hey, he gets it!

... and he goes "Yea! My mom gets her foodstamps today!"

no. he doesn't get it. he doesn't get it at all.

A bit later I came to the conclusion that if I ever go to prison, I need LittleBushDeer (BagLady) and Felix's students to come with me to smuggle stuff. On the bus to the field trip I confiscated:
*a fist-sized rock with purple crystals growing all over the top
*the metal buckle off of a seat belt
*something else... not near as impressive as the rock or the buckle so it has slipped my mind

I also facilitated the disposal of a packet of mustard that had been launched through some means of propulsion (plastic spork catapult, I think)

LittleBush Deer had this collection-o-crap in her purse to haul around the whole time we were gone -- but I'm thinking these little sneaks will make great prison shiv mules.

One bright side-note: I cleaned dog-sh1t off of not one single kid on this field trip. yeah. That's how I measure my success in educating students.

oh.... it's feathers

So I'm continuing my neverending quest for a flamingo tiara and I run a pink tiara search thread for grins... and I get this:







(orientaltrading.com)

And I'm thinking My Gawd! Sweet 16 and pub1c hair along the bottom edge wtf?

But then I clicked and looked and it was purple feathers.

ANYWAY - MyPoolBoy and I went out to eat tonight for his birthday and this poor little waitress tells us it's her first week she is waiting on us and one other table - the one behind us. In comes this flake who orders a Caesar salad with no dressing except Ranch on the side. yes. A Caesar salad with no dressing except Ranch on the side.

As long as I live in Mullet County I will never be at a loss of people to laugh at.

It's Like Camp....

So. I am reading my Texas Assessment of Knowledge and Skills General Test Administrator's Manual and I have decided that it can be included on the list of things that are Freakin Hilarious after an 18 pack (or in my case, 3 glasses of wine from my adult Capri Sun box). Our TAKS-stress release/celebrations need to be scheduled BEFORE TAKS next year because we could sit and drink and read this sumbi+ch the weekend before TAKS and have a grand ol' time!

I, of course, felt obliged to text the rest of my grade level and share this important revelation.

First of all, it is arranged into sections labeled Activity 1, Activity 2, etc. and at first I was all - oh, like centers or stations in class - but then I decided NO it was more like camp activities and our "campus testing coordinators" are supposed to be like the counselors or something. So I am at page 70something and am about to go to the Appendices section. And I'm thinking ok, this is the part of camp where you sneak off behind the mess hall in the woods with that really cute guy you met during Activities time and make out. (MyPoolBoy is on red-alert)

Then I drunk-dialed my stepmother who teaches sped and started reading some stuff to her and DYING laughing about how the #2 pencils would be issued to us by the camp counselors (testing coordinators)... I was all: so, is this so we won't give them a pencil with the multiplication charts on them or something or does the pencil we are being issued have special lead that has been shi+ by lord god king Rick Perry himself? Also, we decided that NO toilet paper can be used during the breaks (which, by the way are NOT mandatory so if we feel like not letting the kids go to the bathroom at any point during the testing day, we have that discretion left to our own sick twisted sense of humor, ooops, I mean judgment). The reason for the no t.p? It could be considered SCRATCH PAPER which is NOT allowed. Also, females administering the TAKS test probably should be issued duct tape to tape down our breasts because if you are an A cup that could be construed as answer choice A for some of the questions. If you are a B cup you are giving away all the answer B choices, etc. We don't know what they would do for the male teachers. HOWEVER, we could all stuff our bras with the unusable toilet paper so that we will be the same size across the state.

Anyway, she tells me how they have this kid who is considered ED (emotionally disturbed) because he whips it out at inappropriate times (read: constantly). So then MyPoolBoy says: he can't do that because it would be considered a measurement device that is not standardized like the state-issued mathematics chart. BUT! If you classify it as a MANIPULATIVE (since it is something that he uses regularly in class) then it will be an allowable accommodation!

Oh, and the manual says that we may not instruct the students to speed up or slow down while they are taking the test but it says absolutely nothing about KICKING them to make them speed up or slow down.

Alright - I made it to the Appendices section. I'm gonna finish this and go to bed.

Edited to add: I was gonna email this post to the Lucilles but that dayum squiggly word captcha thing came up and do you know how absolutley CRUEL it is to do that to a drunk person?

Get the Restraining Order, Rick!

I just took the "name that Rick Springfield song" quiz on Facebook.


I made 100% in 20 seconds.

This Is Why You're Fat

This is why you're fat.

Wow. Bacon wrapped mozzarella sticks.

Wagons Ho!

I got a desperately needed laugh today courtesy of the students. I had them on the computers on a pioneer webquest site that helped them know how much all their stuff that they were packing in their wagons would weigh. The goal was to keep it all under 2000 pounds. About 15 minutes in, one of the groups realized that they should have been scrolling down to find some of the other supplies like tools and first aid kits. One group read it out loud and they overheard it... and then started:

"First aid kit? Where's the first aid kit? Scroll down! Scroll down!"
"There it is!"
"Awwww, man! It weighs three pounds - we already have our wagon full."
"So take something off..."

"Get rid of the Bible!"

So later on they dump some more stuff and one of the kids wants to put the Bible back on the list for the wagon, and THIS conversation happened:

"We don't NEED the Bible - what do you think they needed a Bible for?"
"In case they got bored on the trail, this would give them something to do..."

"Oh yeah, like they couldn't just pray if they needed to (and here she put her hand on her hip and started the neck rolling business) - 'Please God help us survive our trip to Oregon.'"

I'm figuring this might be how the Mormons ended up with different Bibles than the rest of us...somebody chucked theirs off their wagons on the way to Utah and they had to start over writing it when they got there!

Sham - Wow Video

Sham - Effing - Wow.
BWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!

I needed a laugh. School sux.

Please, just stop that incessant - BREATHING

So I had a completely exhausting and frustrating day thanks to the continued ineptitude of our spec ed folks. One of them scheduled a conference with one of the parents at the same time that I had an ARD with the other one for a different student. So apparently now they are not only not communicating adequately with me, but they have digressed into not even communicating with each other. Needless to say it was a HUGE inconvenience for me, but I don't think it ever dawned on them.

And now, I have decided that I cannot put up with any other human being on the entire planet. None of them. And MyPoolBoy is sitting next to me eating dinner. And he is making sounds while he eats. And he has the nerve to be BREATHING. And he is making sounds when he breathes. STOP BREATHING BEFORE I MAKE YOU STOP!!!!!!!!!!!!! I am not in the mood to put up with his gawdforsaken BREATHING. Perhaps he will choke on his dinner. Aw hayul no, that would make noises too!

Thank God I still have valentine candy left over. And there are diet-killing chocolate cookies that Lurch brought home from the bakery. And wine.

Movie Night

I have long been a fan of Mystery Science Theater (the movie and the series, until it jumped the shark with its stupid sub-plots) Here's Mike and the crew doing what they do best and proving why I love them in the first place: making fun of movies. Saves me money on vodka and the trouble of having to come up with witty smart-a$$ comments all by myself. MyPoolBoy is more tolerant of them than he is of me.

Click on the preview link for the movie of your choice, when it's done hit the escape key to go back to the page again.

RiffTraxx

Get Down

Last night we were on the deck of our local hangout and PreFriend came up to have a beer with us. DrunkenFelix had called her to come check out some guy that we, as true friends, were going to "help" her pick up. On my way to the men's room, I opened the conversation with a comment on the smell of the candle burning inside the bar... it smelled like syrup. He said it reminded him of a Denny's and I retorted that it was more like a Waffle House. PreFriend was not entirely impressed - she said he looked too preppy for her. Then Felix reminded her that the guy she had given her phone number to on the night she fell on Main Street was at the table across from us. PreFriend was unconvinced. She said I don' know what you thought you saw that night, but NO. I proceeded to lay on the deck and tell her that from THAT angle (flat on your @ss with beer goggles) he looked perfectly datable!

Put That in Your Pipe

thud


Oh, oops my head hit the table when I saw this. Organic tobacco. I guess now that it's all-natural it is good for me. I can take up smoking now!

Grin and Bear It

They've been advertising on the Discovery Channel about that survivor guy rinsing off and eating bear shi+ in the newest episode.

MyPoolBoy is even grossing out.
But I said it is better to eat bear shi+ than to BE bear shi+ like the guy from that grizzly documentary.

And now he's trying to get down into a canyon and he said that he needed to find something to help him get down quickly. Ummmmm.... gravity????? That'd be pretty quick.

I Cannot Believe What I Just Effin' Heard

I am at the bakery having my ritual Saturday a.m. breakfast and Lurch is at the counter waiting on this non-blonde blonde.

HAND TO GOD she just asked if they have any Rice Kripsie Treats. WTF?????????? Peroxide Poisoning.

Chick. Did you miss the part in the commercial where the lady PUT the flour on her face? It was all a big Hollywood smoke and mirrors trick. You know, like special effects and shi+. You really can make your own Rice Krispie treats at home with minimal effort.

So. I am dying laughing and MyPoolBoy is unsuccessfully trying desperately to keep me contained. I at least waited until she went into the restroom before I busted out in uncontrollable fits of snorting. That, I think is demonstrative of remarkable restraint.

VD

Valentine's Day - you people! I've done this twice now....

Actually, this year I do have a std comment:

Mono - the herpes of the middle school set.

So, I woke up in fine form this morning, and sans vodka, I have been rather mouthy and HILARIOUS to ME -- MyPoolBoy does not appreciate my random tidbits of humor as much as I do. Told Lurch he should keep a tally chart in the back of the bakery to see how many of the last minute purchases are made by men vs. women. Also referred to the "Ethels" of the "Lucille" posse as "underlings." (MyPoolBoy DID laugh at that one)

Here's what caused the biggest eyeroll of the morning:

It hit me that this song has a bit of a pedophilic aura about it, simply because of the way that Conway Twitty's voice sounds so old-mannish to me and his alcoholic psuedo-Elvis slur to his words is reminiscent of some old octogenarian who has left his dentures on the nightstand back at the home. If Conway was comin' at ya with the DT's it would almost look like he was palsied.

"Come here darlin, let me kiss you..." BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Who Nose

One of our aides comes in my class to help with science at 12:30. Today we were walking around the room helping kids and she pulled me aside with this keen observation: You have more nose-pickers in your class than any other class I go into.

To which I replied: You know, we just had lunch... I can't imagine that they still feel hungry enough to have the need to do that!

Man TV

Since I got home at 6pm, MyPoolBoy has had the tv tuned to a Rambo marathon. Chunk came in to say goodnight and asked what we were watching.
MyPoolBoy: Rambo
Chunk: 1? 2?
Me: Does it matter?

Goodnight,y'all. It's all I can take.

Shhhhhhhhh

We made it through the big 5-0 blow-out party for Baloney, complete with a huge red velvet penis cake. (Don't mess with us, we will get you back with illicitly-shaped baked goods...You thought the Uterus Cake was bad?) We sliced it with a meat cleaver.

Some of the non-regular staff and faculty came, a tribute to what a true matriarch that Baloney is to our campus. She rates. One of the gals requested that although they would never be able to aspire to the position of Lucille, and there was a healthy respect for that, she DID want to be dubbed as an "Ethel" Ok, Ethel, Wish Granted. Please note that you will now be fair game for me to mention in my Blog and if you ever do anything embarrassing in front of me, then your name will be changed from Ethel to whatever embarrassing nickname I drunkenly decide to use in reference to you hereafter.

AND there was beer pong. AND one of the Ethels crawled on top of the beer pong table. AND...

We had a bonding adventure. All I'm gonna say is at least we didn't toilet paper anyone's house this time.