19 April 2010

I Will Bitch No More Forever

With all due respect to Chief Joseph for bastardizing his speech, and all apologies to everyone who knows that I will not be able to keep that promise, watch this. And count your lucky stars. And be amazed. And then join me in a little guilt for not being more appreciative of all your blessings. Unless of course you're not as self involved and selfish as I am and then you don't have to.. Whatever. Spend the 4 minutes. I cried, and you know how much I love to do that.

Ruthlessly and gleefully stolen from Peedee

A Few Random Thoughts

Since turning 43 I have been struck by new inquiries into the meaning of life, not all of which can be summed up with "how the fuck did this happen?"  Seriously.  How did I get here?  As I sit alone in my king-sized bed with ice packs on my knees, I wonder what detour caused me to be here.  Why icepacks, you may ask?  Because I'm all out of Percocet that's why.

Here's a thought...feet are not the most attractive feature on anyone over the age of three, but if you have horny, calloused, clod-hoppers with four out of the five of your toes more hammered than the captain of the Exxon Valdez, perhaps you shouldn't wear flip-flops.  Even if you are a guy, that means you have uuuuuugleeeee feet and you need to hide that shit in shame as propriety demands. 

My well known fear of general anesthesia was reinforced the other day.  We had to do an emergency c-section on a patient and her anesthesia had just been reversed as she started telling me all about her dream.  "You were in my dream and you had a gorgeous figure, you were beautiful (okay, I'm on board so far) and all these men were around you, wanting to date you.  (Me likee your dreams, sister) One of the gentlemen asked me if you had breast implants.  You were driving my boat and we were sailing all over the ocean.  DO you have breast implants?"  Wow.  That's it!  I want epidurals for all surgeries from now on.  If I have a brain tumor, just let me go.

I finally had confirmation this morning that FB actually has some of my DNA.  He was sitting sullenly in the front seat of the planet killer (yes, despite the whole WA state "over 12/over 85lbs/over 4'8"" rule for the front seat, there he sits.  He's taller than I am, he weighs almost as much as I do, and he LOOKS older than 12, so I figure that's close enough) and I, being the incredibly obnoxious person I am, cheerily, and loudly, exclaimed, "What a great day!  It's so beautiful!  Are we all so excited to be here on this gorgeous spring morning?"  Mind you, the sun isn't quite up when we leave the house, so I was talking liberties with the whole "gorgeous spring morning" thing.  Without even moving his head, FB said, "Mondays are NOT awesome."  That's my boy!  I concur.  Especially since my day started at 0445, running with Knucklehead McSpazatron.  The only time I ever want to see 0445 is on my way to bed. 

I'm getting my nether regions electrocuted tomorrow, so tonight I pre-gamed for it by clear cutting the remaining foliage.  I'm sure there are stranger bedtime rituals than shaving your gittery hoo-hah, but I'd be hard pressed to guess what.  Yeah, I know, TMI, but now is hardly the time for me to start being discreet.  A few more years and I'll being publicly discussing my bowel habits.

A friend of mine sent me this picture of a redneck boob job.  It's NSFW and definitely painful to look at, so it's after the jump

18 April 2010

I have one sick laptop. I have no idea what is causing the problem, be it the dreaded Norton Suite those bastards at Comcast insist I download, a particularly nasty virus that causes my Internet to fade into the ether when I try to start it, or my own, and more likely, incredibly bad karma. Whatever the cause, I have spent many hours and several classic films on DVD trying to unfuck this POS. To the point I am resorting to blogging in ye olde iPhone in an effort to vent some angst and avoid throwing this particular piece of technology out yon window. Whatever is wrong with this thing, it will not even let me reset to a restore point. So I am now in the process of deleting Norton. And look. The Internet comes right up. The bastards. To the dulcet tines of cheesy '70s "bow-chicka-bow-bow" from The Towering Inferno
Well, Im re-installing Norton. We'll see if this is the last post I do from the phone or not.

09 April 2010

Yucky, schmucky, sucky day. I wish I could have a foot tall Bailey's Banana Colada right now. But since I can't, I'll have to settle for Singing In The Rain.  Gene Kelly, Debbie Reynolds, Donald O' Connor...better than Prozac.  I can't find my favorite line on youtube, so you'll just have to watch the thing.

Sometimes though, sweet, happy and funny just doesn't cut it.  So you need something angry, hard and fast, that just reaches into your brain and shakes it around.  So, there's there's always Offspring, which kind of speaks to me: (NSFW lyrics, but awesome cranked loud on the freeway. Not that you'd be reading this on the freeway, but you know what I mean) 

Ah, that hit the spot

08 April 2010

The youngest and hairiest of my four beautiful boys...and one of the two with four legs.

This was about an hour before he was accosted on our walk by one crabby pit bull mix. Her owner was walking by us and I saw that she was in training mode, so I planned to not disturb her. For some reason she had her dog in a break away collar and she lunged (the dog, not the owner) and came over to have a chat. I was watching the dog's body language and just as I thought, "I think we should go; she looks pretty tense." she latched onto Bugs' neck. Her owner ran towards her as I pulled Bugs away and distracted the dog. That lasted about 2 seconds. She went to go for him again and I got all alpha dog/mama bear, stepped in front of her, pointed my finger in her face and shouted "NO!" She looked at me as if no one had spoken to her like that in her life. I was thinking, "Try it again and I'll have you on the ground so fast your head will spin. Either that, or I'll kick you in the snout." Her poor owner was apologizing all over herself. She was probably praying I wouldn't sue. I told her it was okay, because he wasn't hurt, but I was thinking that dog needs some more socialization/training/control. Of course, Bugs' coat is so thick and he's shedding so bad, that other poor dog was probably coughing up hairballs all day. Might make her think twice before trying to be all that again. Knucklehead McSpazatron just looked at me like, "what the hell was her problem?" And was none the worse for the wear. He is now stretched out on my carpet between my weights and my knitting bag, having quite the animated conversation in his dream.
I stole this from a friend on Facebook. It's hilarious because it's true! Anyone who thinks this is an exaggeration has never worked L&D outside of a hospital that only gets private pay/insured patients. Actually, it's not all true. The nurse's line at the end would never be said. But it gets thought A LOT!

07 April 2010


I feel like Stan most of the time. And every time I say I'm going to quit I get a reaction, well, not like Kyle's, but I do get grief! Stan sums it all up at the end of the clip.

One More Reason To Love Snickers

"That's not what your girlfriend says!" I love Betty White. And who knew Abe Vigoda was still kickin'? I think this one is the better of the two:

*smack* "Ya feel that?" Aretha sounds like me on a road trip.
Here's a little recap on Easter.  Since I was making a dinner based on the impulse purchase of a Peeps cake, I was mulling menu items over in my head.  I bought a bag of red potatoes to make some nice garlic/parsley potatoes. realized I had asparagus at home, so I need not worry about the green veggie, bought some pineapple rings to stab into this huge ass ham, and decided I needed something beside just those pineapple rings for a fruit. I bought a small bag of frozen peaches that I thought I could thaw and sprinkle with cinnamon.  (SoS can be picky about the types of fruit he'll eat as well as everything else, but I knew he'd eat that.) I cheated on the crescent rolls and bought Pillsbury, cuz, let's not get carried away with this whole "Holly Homeaker" thing here.  As the magnet on my fridge says, "The only domestic thing about me is I live in a house."

It was a nice little Easter morn with very little candy.  Since Valentine's wasn't all that long ago and my parents had dropped off an ass ton before they went to Bend, I figured the boys would be fine.  They each got a chocolate rabbit (not Easter without 'em), some gum, a Cadbury egg, and a DS Pokemon game.  SoS got Heart Gold and FB got Soul Silver.  The same game that FB has been dropping oh, so, subtle hints about for the last 2 months.  An example:  "Mom, I really want Heart Gold or Soul Silver.  Davey has Heart Gold.  He says it's a cool game.  I bet it would be lots of fun.  I wonder if I will ever get Soul Silver or Heart Gold.  I wish I had enough money to buy Heart Gold or Soul Silver,"  And on and on ad infintum.  Okay, dude, I get it.  Needless to say, they were thrilled with their Easter baskets and were zoned out within 10 seconds of the games loading.

I put the ham in at 12:30 with an idea to eat around 4.  (I told you the damn thing was big.)  As it was cooking I got a phone call from my parents who were on their way home and thought they would be rolling in around the same time.  Knowing how hateful it is to have to think about making dinner or eating out after being on the road, no food in the house, and bags of laundry staring you in the eye, I invited them over for dinner and they gratefully accepted.  Dilemma time.  I definitely had enough ham, but the rest of the meal...maybe not.  Okay, potatoes...if we have small helpings.  Rolls...one each.  Fruit...yeah,no.  I had some frozen fruit medley thing that I use to make smoothies with:  melon, peaches, blueberries, that sort of thing, and I was sure I could find a recipe for a nice sauce to go over it, so that would work.  Asparagus...ooooohhhhhh.  First thing:  soggy and rotting.  Apparently I forgot how long ago I actually bought it.  Second:  wouldn't have been enough anyway.  Luckily, I had this Green Giant frozen veggie medley with cheese sauce that I had bought for those nights when I don't have time to do anything else.  Which SoS might take a stab at, because it's covered in cheese.  And you can steam it in the bag, in the microwave, so it's freaking easy!   Go Green Giant, ho, ho, ho!  Are the Green Giant and Santa the same person?  Or do they just share the same vocabulary.  It's pretty limited either way.  Sorry.  Tangent.  And my kid is ADD?

My next problem was what do I get to drink.  My mom and I would both probably do water over anything else, my dad would refuse my milk because all I have is skim (or "chalk water" as he refers to it), and the kids will drink what I give them and like it!  I did, however, have some pink lemonade in my freezer.  (Dear heaven, how long has this been in my freezer?  Since Steve died?  That would go along with the sundry of everything else I found this weekend that has expired, including the Zyrtec I stll gave to FB.  Because if he sniffed or wiped his nose on his sleeve one more time, I was gonna smack him upside of his head with my shoe.)  I set it, along with the frozen fruit, on the counter to thaw and in the process of getting both out of the freezer, noticed the cranberries.  Do you eat cranberry sauce with ham?  I didn't know, but I did know those suckers had been in the freezer for awhile (read more than a year...maybe even two) and I needed to make some cranberry sauce.
While I waited for things to thaw, I decided I needed to tidy up a little.  I'm sure my mother wonders where she went wrong when she walks into my house, and I usually couldn't give a rat's ass, I'm a busy, working, single mom, but this wasn't just clutter, this was starting to border on needing FEMA  and hazmat.  The dog hair guinea pigs were starting to organize and I feared an uprising any second.  Now, I have been taking some vitamins from GNC that purport to "make your workout more effective."  You are supposed to take them 30 minutes before a workout or 30 minutes before breakfast if it is a rest day.  It is my belief that these share the same chemical composition as speed.  Seriously, it's herbal speed.  I was zinging around the house like a hummingbird.  I expected to break out my toothbrush and scrub the grout in my shower.  Needless to say, my house got tidied up enough that my mother, in her exhaustion, wouldn't give me that pitying look or drop hints about a housekeeper.  (She did, however mention that she has decided I need a Japanese Maple in front of the window where we cut down the tree a few weeks ago.  But that's another story.)  I found a recipe for a sweetened yogurt sauce to go over the fruit using plain yogurt.  Being a freak, I have plain yogurt in my fridge; it's all I eat.  Except for this day.  None.   "Hey", I thought, "sweetened sour cream would work just as well."  Yeah, except the sour cream was, you guessed it, expired.  What the hell is going on in my fridge?  Am I living in a time warp?  What to do, what to do?  What I did have was some cottage cheese and some ricotta.  Okey, doke.  Cottage cheese, ricotta, a dash of milk, sugar, vanilla in a high speed blender and voila!  Fruit sauce!   Everything went along swimmingly, except as I was putting leftovers away, I saw the giant bowl of cranberry sauce still sitting in the fridge.  Well, at least I have an ass ton of cranberry sauce to go with that ass ton of ham.  I put all the drippings from the ham in glass and every time I looked at it I thought of that line in Down Periscope:  

LT Pascal: You think we're all going to jump out of bed in the morning and have a big, hot, steaming cup of PIG FAT?!?
Buckman: Well, it depends, Sir, if it's a cold morning, it could go either way..."

The Peep cake was actually good!  The only problem is that hideous colored icing dyed your skin, your clothes, the plates and pretty much everything else.  I'm sure if I had a colonoscopy they would think I was violently ill.  Or molding, one of the two.  About that cake....yesterday I looked at the remainders and not only had it been de-Peeped, but most of the frosting had been removed.  I questioned my only suspect and his response was it must have been either Sylvester or Bugs, not realizing of course, that I know both the Cat from Hell and Knucklehead McSpazatron lack both opposable thumbs and the capacity for complex problem solving.

SoS told me today that when I died, he would visit my grave every day.  Uuuuhhhh, thanks, bud. 

06 April 2010

Call Of The Wild

When I lived in Finland, I fell into the habit of not flashing bunny ears behind some unsuspecting soul for a laugh, but rather moose antlers.  Here I am injecting a bit of Scandinavia into a soon to be hectic morning for me and the end of a night from hell from the woman who raised me to be the sick, workplace adrenaline junkie I am today.  I love me some Virg!

This one makes her look like she's bugling.  Nice rack!  ;D

Thanks to the Maharlot for the iPics!

03 April 2010

I've been a little busy lately.  Work has been hectic, including an emergency c-section first thing in the morning.  I live for that shit.  I think my dream job (aside from flight nurse...11 more years, baby!) would be an obstetric ICU.  Way cool!  But, I digress.   It's been spring break (why are these children never in school?), which means all the errands that I would normally do that requires no tag-a-longs (for my sanity most of the time) had to be postponed or rearranged.  I haven't even been able to keep up with all my blog reading and my Google reader is about to explode from overload.  Now some people have been incredibly remiss in posting, and the poor little blogs are weeping uncontrollably at being orphaned in such a rash manner.  But, we should give him a break as he may be a little overwhelmed adjusting to his new life direction.  And I would just like to say everything I've ever said is just as true now as the day I said it.  Why people insist on arguing with The All Knowing is beyond me. 

Friday was my BFF's (not THAT one!  This one is human and doesn't require batteries) birthday,  so we dumped the kids in daycare and went to see Hot Tub Time Machine.  We haven't seen a  movie without kids in tow since Superbad.  And actually, we had her 21 year old with us.  He may be an adult, but he's still our kid, so it counts.  It was pretty funny...for those of us who could relate.  The main characters were 19 in 1986 and so was I.  The little punks in the front row who aren't even 19 now, couldn't possible have enjoyed it to any extent.  Afterward we went to Panera Bread for lunch.  Holy crap, that place is crack to me.  Which is why I avoid it like the plague.

In the 14 seconds that the monsoon actually stopped today, I mowed the lawn.  Nothing like mowing soaking wet grass and seeing your breath.  You should not see your breath condensate while you are mowing the grass. There is just something so fundamentally wrong about that.  Psycho weather.   I had to get gas for the mower and while at Costco, saw a guy that had to be a transplant.  Baggy, silky gym shorts, skinny legs, a NY Yankees sweatshirt and CROCS!  Ewwwww.... He obviously doesn't know that the Pac NW uniform is denim shorts, a Mariners/Seahawks sweatshirt (Yankees.  Blegh.), socks and Tevas/Keens/Birks.    What a fool.

I'm not exactly sure what my problem is with decorating during religious holidays, but I get so irritated.  The kids aren't allowed any where near the living room during Christmas until the lights are on the tree because I'm a snarling bitch while I  string them, and I don't want them even breathing while I'm getting the dye ready for Easter eggs.  Let's all celebrate peace, love, and Christ-like tendencies while mom yells and bites our heads off!  W00T! 
Here are the boys dyeing their eggs:

These children take any excuse they can to strip down to their skivvies.  This particular one was, "Be careful with the dye; it will stain your clothes."  FB is just growing as I look at him.  He may be taller than I am, but I still outweigh him and age and treachery will always overcome youth and skill.

A sweet faced SoS, belying the devilishness within. 

My parents are in Bend watching my niece race, so the boys and I are on our own for Easter.  I had to get a few things from Target and Al's (just a few unimportant things, like food for lunch and dinner) and both parking lots were insane.  Walking through the stores themselves required some serious navigation skills and more will power than I have ever possessed to not scream "Get the hell out of my way, you freaks!  Why the hell did you wait until the day before Easter to fulfill all your Easter needs anyway."  I was feeling oh, so superior until I walked into Albertson's and, like a beacon from above, I saw this:
Look, I know that it looks like something that should be featured on Cake Wrecks, that the frosting is a hideous shade of green, the Happy Easter is cheap and the flower ring fell off the cake and had to be replaced, but it is surrounded by Peeps!  Peeps, I tell you!  I was destined to have this cake!  It's probably dry as Utah in August, and tastes just as good, but it is ringed in Peeps!  Since I now had an Easter cake, I determined I must  make Easter dinner and became one of the unfortunate shoppers I had earlier been slandering with the most violent curses.  I settled on ham.  Do you know what kind of ham you can buy the day before Easter for Easter dinner?  A freaking big one, that's what kind.  I bought a half of a spiral cut, bone-in (Heh.  Bone-in. Heh heh.  I'd like a bone-in.  Heh heh.) and it is almost 12 pounds.  We are going to be eating ham, ham hash, ham soup, ham sandwiches, you name it, until Christmas.  It reminds me of the first Thanksgiving the BFF made after she divorced the Rat Bastard.  She called me Thanksgiving morning to inform me she had only forgotten one thing...the actual turkey.  All there was left was 25 pound FROZEN turkeys.  We spent all day defrosting it in hot water in the bathtub (it's a wonder we didn't get salmonella) and finally ate the turkey at midnight.  Everything else was eaten at 4.  The turkey was midnight.

02 April 2010

Put yourself in his dad’s shoes « BurnPit

MOTHAX, TSO, and whatever other nom de guerre he uses that I don't know about yet (Dear Hubby doesn't count; I know about that one) has posted a story about a Gold Star father and his fight against the Westboro Baptist Church protesting at his son's funeral.  If you don't know about the WBC, they are the scum of the Earth and an insult to the words Christian, Baptist, Church, decency, compassion, basically the entire English language.  Go read this.
Put yourself in his dad’s shoes « BurnPit
Here's a picture of the protesting they do at the funerals:

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