Wednesday, December 30, 2009

John Boys

I pee. Like, a lot. I am not sure if it is bladder brainwash from when I was growing up, or what. You know, "Go pee-pee before we leave" or when on vacation, "We are stopping for gas. Go in and pee. You don't have to? Well, try anyway..." It could also be the fact that I had three ginormous babies that did some squishing to my organs (8 lb, 4 oz, 8 1/2 lbs, and the whopper that was 9 lbs, 11 oz). At any rate, I can tell you where bathrooms are in any store, restaurant, play area, friend's home in Y County. I have even had to make pit stops in porta-pots here and there. And those things make me want absolutely puke.

I swear to you, I can pee "just before" I walk out the door, drive 30 minutes, and be like, "Aw, hell, gotta go again." Make no mistake, I have no problem with holding it...no dribbling here...but I just have super-functioning kidneys.

That being said, I would not want to do a big fat sneeze when holding a full bladder. That could be catastrophic. Or hilarious. Depending on where I am when it happens. Haha, I said "Depend".

At any rate, so, OK, I have two little boys. One big boy, of course, who can go potty alone, and has for many years, but two littles that still have to go in the Ladies Room with me. When the biggest kid was little, I was a single mom and when he got too old (in his mind) to go into the Ladies' Room, I remember standing in the doorway of the Mens Room, holding the door open with my foot and announcing loudly, "Austin, I am RIGHT HERE. Are you OK? Aust, I am STILL HERE, OK?" (Translation- "Any potential pedophiles, be on alert. Do not even THINK of messing with that kid there. Momma Lion is at the door. Oh, and sorry to any of you fellers just trying to get your pee on, having to listen to a woman's voice bouncing off the tiles. Shy bladders will have to 1. wait, or 2. go pee in the parking lot.")

Anyway, the littles are nowhere near being ready to go to the Mens' Room solo, so they come in with me. Usually, I go in a stall and have them stand right outside the door, with their shoes peeking under where I can see them, but if the bathroom is crowded, they have to come in the stall with me. Yep, pretty crowded, and you hear me saying the following:

1. Do not touch ANYTHING. No, not that, or that. Please, will you just put your hands in your pockets???

2. I will flush it with my foot. Do not touch the flusher. Thanks anyway, but I will handle it.

3. Leave that metal box alone. (Ladies, you know what I am saying. Ick.)

I had both littles in a crowded bathroom recently, and we packed into a stall. I was doing the hover and my youngest loudly proclaims for all to hear, "Hahahahahahaha! Mom, you are peeing out of your BUTT! Hahahahahaha!" To which I hear snickers and giggles. So I try to quietly explain that a) it is not actually coming from my butt, and b) GET OUT from behind there!

Then he says, "Oh, so it must be from your BA-JINE-AH! Hahahahahahaha!"

Heavens to mergatroid. I wanted to get the heck out of there, but I had to make the Walk of Shame to the sink. I tried not to make eye contact with anyone.

It made me recall a story one of my best friends told me about her daughter coming into a stall with her and announcing to all in the bathroom, "Mommy, you have a REALLY BIG VAGINA!" Yikes. I suppose peeing from the butt is a little better than that. But not much.

Maybe it is time to stand guard at the Mens' Room after all.

Sunday, December 20, 2009

Thrift Store Thursday

So, my intention was to do a holiday-themed TST, but upon checking out the holiday decorations available for purchase from my local TS, I found it to be sorely lacking.  This leads me to believe that either 1.  Very few people are donating holiday decorations, or 2. Someone, or someoneS bought most of the available Christmas cheer.

I lean more toward #2, only because I have seen many outdoor holiday displays around town that make me wonder/afraid of what it looks like inside.  You know, craptastic displays like this one...

Nonetheless, I was able to find a few interesting pieces for your enjoyment.  I suppose they could be bought and given as Christmas/Chanuka/Kwanzaa/Festivus/Winter Solstice/WhatTheFrickEver gifts, so let's say we are sticking with the theme.  Pretend with me, much like we pretend that I actually create these posts on Thursdays.

OMG.  The perfect gift for my sister-in-law.  Provided, of course, she changes her name to Brandon Edward Reams.  Oh, and that date at the bottom.  I am sure she would be cool with shaving ten-ish years off of her birthday.  I do think she will like the lovely bluebird with the broken-looking neck.  Or is he constipated?  Jury is still out.

Or maybe this vag-inspired picture? Seriously, I am not the only one that sees this...right?

How would you like this cheery fellow looking at you from atop your armoir?  My fear of clowns doesn't seem quite so irrational right now, does it?  (Frickin A...really.  Who puts this in their house and calls it good???)

For that special someone.  You know, when you want to say, hey, I'm wild about you.  So much so that I bought you this shitty wooden gorilla.

AHHHH!  A TRIBBLE!  Oh, just a wig. Eww....

Know anyone who just bought a house and needs a sofa?  Or in this case, a SofaKing Ugly?

But this gift....  This one is super-special.  This says hey baby, you rock my world.  Or else it says, hey, did you know your friend was a freaky pervert?

(I just have to preface this with a "good Lord.")

It is especially awesome if the recipients name is Kermit.  As in, "Hey Kermit, big boy, come and get it, baby."

Or you could just do gift cards and cash.  If you want to keep your friends for another year.

Monday, December 14, 2009

Making up for it

OK, to make up for my crybabylittlebitch post from yesterday, I present you with this, courtesty of YouTube.

OMGigglinGertie, how cute is this kid? And how does he know all the words to this song? (OK, maybe just he and I sing it that way, but still...)

I like it, I love it, I want some more of it.

Sunday, December 13, 2009

If I could live one day all over again...

...it sure as hell wouldn't be this one.

Warning. Piss and moan post, dead ahead.

As sucktastic days go, on a scale of one to ten, where ten is complete and utter catastrophe, chaos, and mayhem, and one being, oh, say a broken nail, today rated a solid 5. All things considered, it wasn't the worst of days, but bruddah, it was no picnic, either.

1. Rain. Cold, crappy rain. All stinkin' day long.
Hello, December? Um, where the frick is my snow?

2. At grocery store (after running in from said cold rain), only about halfway through and the celly rings. 'Tis the hubs. "How close are you to being done?"

"Uh, only about halfway."
"The Christmas tree fell over and there are ornaments, glass, and water everywhere. I am standing here holding it upright and need you to help me."

So, I park the cart up front, tell a girl in customer service that I will be right back, and can I leave my cart there? Sure, she says. I rush home to find a hella mess. This is one gargantuan tree. When they say "the bigger they are, the harder they fall", they ain't playin' around.

**Pause P&M session to say YAY! None of the ornaments my mom made me over the years when I was growing up broke. All were intact, which is no small miracle, as they are all ceramic! Not to mention the best part...the tree did not fall on anyone. **

Resume Pissing and Moaning...

3. Returned to grocery store (p.s., called and told them I would not be back any time soon, and to please put back the refrigerated items, only to be told that the CS girl did not relay my message to hold cart, and all items were placed back on shelves. Sheesh.) I am in the meat section looking for ham hocks, which I have no blessed idea what they are supposed to look like. Who eats this crap? Apparently we need them for ham and bean soup, that Dave was making (supposedly, but more on that later...) OK, in the meat section, and suddenly some random woman is going, "Hellooooo, Hellooooooo, HELLLOOOOOO!" and waving her hands in front of my face like I am some idiot. All with this totally exasperated look on her face. Apparently, she wanted my attention, no? And apparently, I was ignoring her, or MAYBE I AM DEAF IN MY RIGHT EAR? How about that idea, lady? Her big hairy deal question, "What is today's date?" I was flabbergasted at the rudeness and managed to mumble out "The thirteenth, I think." I looked for that broad all over the store for the rest of my shopping trip so I could give her a frosty explanation as to why I did not answer her when she needed my attention for the oh-so-important date so she could decide whether or not she wanted to buy whatever meat she was considering. At least, I think I would have said something. Probably not, but in my head, I gave her an earful.

4. Regarding the aforementioned bean soup, hubs had to run an errand (yes, important, but still...) and left me to do all the chopping of veggies and putting together of the soup. I hate onions, and had to chop a bunch of them. Bleh. The ham hocks are just grody looking and I did not want to even handle them for the time it took me to plop them in the broth. (Then again, I have some issues with handling raw meat.) Point being, if I was doing the cooking tonight, it would have been something simpler that had ingredients I actually LIKE.

I know. I am being a big whiny babypants.
It's Miller time, friends. Multiple Miller time.
Tomorra...is anotha day!

Tuesday, December 8, 2009

This is what you get...

When you dick around at the polls and "Ha ha! I wrote myself in!" on an elected position.

Yes, that is my jokey-joker husband who is now an elected official with a whopping one vote. Needless to say, we scrambled to figure out exactly what a "Minority Inspector" was expected to do once we got this notice today. I was so hoping that it would involve something like having to speak in public, or do some such embarrassing thing. I am twisted like that, and make no mistake, he would wish the same on me, should the shoe be on the other foot. Alas, it appears that he only has to show up at the poll in our district when there is an election. I guess he helps oversee things (?) I am still not totally sure. Once it became clear that it would not be anything that would give me reason to poke fun at him, I sort of lost interest in the research. Bummer.

Lest you think he does not take voting seriously, this man never misses an election. He votes in local races as well as national ones. He is very patriotic and takes seriously his right to vote. And now he can surely show his pride in serving his district.