Coffee Grounds

First of all, on a somber note, I was so thankful tonight when I went to check on my kids Max and Ruby, and there were both snoring like lumberjacks. You can't let your babies out of your sight these days, not for one minute. It isn't like when we were kids. Somebody snatched up a little girl here while she was walking home from school on Monday. Today they found her in a landfill. I hope that when they find the guy who did it (let's face it, it will be a guy on the registered sex offender list, probably on parole), well I hope that they let the dogs at him accidentally before they are able to apprehend him. I hope the guy dies a slow, painful, horrible death. A death that isn't subsidized by my tax dollars. I'm so sick of this happening to little kids, over and over again. Anyway, trust no one is my point. Shoot first, then ask questions later if you ever feel threatened. I hate to get all Nancy Grace on your ass, but well, it was on my mind.
Well. Enough sad for today. You know how I'm not drinking during the week anymore? Well in the shower just now it occurred to me that I'm going to a huge wedding next week hosted by a family of professional drinkers. I really need to practice, I mean you don't show up to the Olympics and try throwing the shotput when you haven't done so in 7 days, you know what I mean? So the drinking ban is about to be lifted. As soon as I finish this little rant, I shall pour a cocktail. Slow and steady wins the race, bitches. My 4-year-old says that constantly (well, not the bitches part...yet), no matter what the situation is, when she doesn't really know what to say, she'll just bust out with "Slow and steady wins the race". I wish she would mix it up and say "A stitch in time saves nine" or "Waste not, want not", or my personal favorite "A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush". I mean seriously, what the fuck does that MEAN??

Ok, let me just say that I don't give two shits about Balloon Boy or Balloon Dad or Balloon Family, none of it.I watched their tomfuckery on "Wife Swap" and I think that guy is abusive and p.s. psychotic. But have you seen that video? The one where the balloon finally came down to Earth, or was shot down or whatever? Did you see that guy who jumped out of the truck and started hauling absolute ASS trying to catch that balloon? Running with everything his 45-year-old ass had, and probably thinking he was about to be a hero for saving the little boy? He should sue the fuck out of Balloon Dad for almost making his heart explode. I know I would. When the judge says "On what grounds?", he should stand up and say "Coffee Grounds, Your Honor".

Actually, no, I think that will be the name of my first book.

I had to go on a cheesy "playdate" the other day. I hate the term playdate. Why can't you just invite me to come over and just hang out? Ugh. I'm so not a "mommy" in that respect. Well, this mom who invited us over, she was an extreme couponer. You know the types. They walk around the grocery store with three carts full of all sorts of shit that they don't need or want, and then they get to the register and it takes them 58 minutes to rings up all those frigging coupons. I mean, don't get me wrong please, I love a coup and I use them a lot. But know this....I am not using coupons just for the sake of using a coupon. Also, I am not spending 3-4 hours of my day scouring the internet for fucking coups. I'm far too busy reading about what Lindsay Lohan has been up to for the past 24 hours on dlisted.com.

Anywhore, so this mommy was all "I saved $55 at the grocery store" and proudly showed me the receipt. But bitch spent $300! I mean who does that? Who the hell needs $300 worth of Ziploc bags and cling wrap? Did you need 3 boxes of Toaster Struedel? Answer: No. Side-eye.

Also, and this is so shitty of me, but I'm just gonna say it because it's a huge pet peeve of mine. People who brag about their gd appliances. I'm not talking about people who have the means for the $3,000 washer and dryer. I'm talking about people who have to cut coupons and re-use paper towels and shit. Here comes the really mean part: I hate when people have those really hot-shit washer and dryers, but then dress from the dollar bin at K-Mart. I am a clothes horse, but even I think it's kind of ridiculous to spend that much money on an appliance. Who gives a shit? So long as my clothes are clean and awesome, I don't care. People like Madonna need expensive washers and dryers. Not middle-class fartfaces. I dunno. It just annoys me. It's not even a jealousy thing. Because if you give me three grand, I sure as shit am not spending it at Lowe's or Appliance City or wherever people buy those kinds of things. YAWN.

Needless to say, I don't go on many playdates. My dream playdate is this: I come over to your house, you don't give me a tour of your house, you don't talk to me about coupons or schedules or homeschooling, we sit around reading fashion magazines and tabloids, and watch reruns of Wife Swap. You feed me pizza and then I gather my kids, who haven't been antagonized and bullied by yours all afternoon, and we go home. The end.

Smell this one

Forgive me Father, it has been 11 days since my last blog. I know I should have written earlier but you know, you really need to lay off my ass, because some people have really, really important shit to do in their lives. Things like watching last night's Real Housewives of Atlanta on DVR and also watching "how to apply smoky eye makeup" videos on You Tube. I AM A BUSY WOMAN. I don't have time for this shit.
Ok, so this is not related to anything interesting, but can I give a shout out to my damn Fall wardrobe? What the hell, it's almost Halloween. Hello, tall boots. Hello, skinny jeans. Goodbye, frigging tank tops and shorts. Kiss my ass.
I watched last night's Real Housewives of ATL tonight. I just love NeNe. She is the most fabulous woman ever. Was anyone else surprised that her mom's vacation home in Athens was so palatial? I mean, wasn't NeNe a skripper?
Oh, story time. A few years ago, I don't even remember when but I'm pretty sure it was after the birth of my first child in 2005, I was teaching school. Well, I was working in a school. I wasn't teaching shit, which is a big reason why I quit that bitch. Anyway, I had some tall boots on. Right below the knee, no heel. I must have been wearing them with a skirt. I'm 90% sure that I was. I went to talk to a friend of mine, a fellow teacher, he was about my dad's age or so. I'm married, he's old. Well apparently while I was talking to him, I put my knee or leg up on the chair? And we talked a while about random shit, then I left. Well, the kids lost their minds, I found out later. Granted, they weren't really "kids" per se. They were disabled adults. But they all called me a stripper when I left, and they sang that song "I'm in Love with a Skripper" to my friend. Yes, I am a sessy beast. The hilarious part about it is, I always made such, such an effort to make sure there was nothing remotely sessy about what I wore to work when I was teaching. They still talk about that day. I must admit, I've never been mistaken for a skripper before.
Also, I should tell you, my friend wears a really bad toupee. Like really bad. I was not in love.
I hope I didn't write this here before, but it's on my mind. When I was in third grade, I was at the book shelf after a test (today that would be called the library center) and I was all bent over looking at some books. I sharted in my pants. I farted really badly, and everyone heard and smelt it. And what did I do? I blamed it on the poor, black girl from the projects. Jamelia Dixon. I said "Eww, Jamelia did that". And to this day, everyone thinks that Jamelia dealt it, but the truth is...
bitches, it was me.

Why Can't I Do This on the Regular?

Fuck a duck, here I am like a week later. I talk shit to myself in my head ALL DAY LONG. So I don't really understand why it's so hard for me to come here and type it out.
I really do have a serious public service announcement for the kids tonight though. Kids, when you go off to college, make certain that your college roomate's family income is not in the 7 figures. Because one day, you are gonna have to attend that roomie's wedding. Don't get me wrong, I frigging love going to rich people's parties. I can fake it with the best of them. I can eat their whores-d-vores, and I can drank their champipple like it's the law. But the stress of figuring out what the fuck you're supposed to wear to that shit will turn your hair GRAY. Trust. I mean, I bought the most fabulous dress for the wedding, but then I found out today that the night-before-party is also a formal affair, so fuuuuuck me. Luckily I found a super cheap dress on a J Crew final sale, and I already have shoes, etc. Ugh, I'm rambling, I suppose my point is this: Ladies, always make sure you have at least 3 outfits in your closet that you can wear for the next 10 years, in case someone you know (who doesn't live in a trailer park) has a fancy-ass partay.
All that being said, I can't wait to go to this wedding. I get to spend the WEEKEND in a hotel room, all by myself. Like totally by myself, and many of you will be all, wtf? about that but my only fantasy is to spend a night in a hotel room by myself. Honestly, I haven't slept in a bed myself in about 8 years, so I think it's time I spent a night alone without farts (that aren't mine).
I think that this blog was supposed to be about famous people? I just don't really see anyone doing anything all that interesting these days. So I am just gonna do a bullet list of peeps who are doing me wrong/right these days:

• Angelina, eat a fucking sandwich. Or even a cracker. Anything.
• Kate Gosselin, when your man started wearing Ed Hardy, that should have been a HUGE clue.
• Everyone should read dlisted.com, it's required reading.
• David Letterman is taking a lot of flak for things that happen in offices everyday. You try being the 20-something young chick in an office full of men and let me know how that works for you. I've been there. Yawn.
• Madonna is a tired old tuna boat.
  

"I don't understand how a woman can leave the house without fixing herself up a little - if only out of politeness. And then, you never know, maybe that's the day she has a date with destiny. And it's best to be as pretty as possible for destiny." -Coco Chanel

Gah ok if you own expensive electronics, I would implore you not to store them on your back patio (which is a shithole). My husband can't understand why his shit be broke. He had me order all this crap to "fix" his camera. This afternoon, I decide to take over the backyard again (drink beer, clean clean clean, and listen to music) and I find his video camera and photo camera, in a bag on the frigging back porch. I CAN''T IMAGINE WHY YO SHIT DON'T WORK.

There is this fucking moron here, she faked her own kidnapping and tried to get 50 grand from her husband, and she spent Labor Day weekend screwing some 25-year-old boy, and she got CAUGHT. With a crack pipe. Now, here is my thing. My husband gave me the side-eye this morning for not making coffee. And this trifling bitches husband just stood on the news and announced what an AMAZING WOMAN his wife is. His wife who humped some dude on Philips Highway for 4 days. She tried to steal money from him. SHE HUMPED SOMEONE ELSE AND TRIED TO STEAL HIS MONEY. And this shit just infuriates me, because I really try to be a nice fucking person (hush, I do) and I have never taken 10 bucks from my husband, much less 5 digits. And this guy is on tv talking about what an AMAZING WOMAN this tramp is. Fuck her, is all I have to say. I know so many single women who would never, ever pull some sideways shit like that, you know? And yet trifling bitches like THIS have their man stand beside them. I actually have a relative by marriage who pulled some shit like this, and she ended up with a shitload of money. But she has huge plastic tittays, so I guess this makes her an AMAZING WOMAN too, because the family loves her tacky ass.

I just give up. I am gonna walk around in high-heeled flip flops and daisy dukes from now on. I quit.

This morning, my husband and I had an argument about Kanye West. AGAIN. I think that really, he is just pissed off because he wears the same damn clothes every day, and Kanye is a fashion master. Whatevs. Anyway, he was all glad because Kanye and Lady GaGa's tour got cancelled. Well, I still say that Beyonce's video WAS BETTER and that Taylor Fart Swift shouldn't have won. MTV knew that Kanye was gonna act a fool that night, that's why they invited him. He is an AMAZING MAN. I think the Louis Vuitton Don might have a little drinky-drink problem and that's what egged him on. He was right though. But my husband, who ugh, if you know him, this is hilarious, actually said "But there is a way to conduct yourself in public, and that wasn't right". Ok, foolio. He also made comments about how Kan was walking around with a bottle of Hennessy that night, like he is a teetotaler. OMG LIGHTNING STRIKE HIM.

I can't believe my Dave Letterman was humping on some young chick. The funny thing is, I was always SO JEALOUS of that Steph chick. I always wondered how she got such an awesome job, and now I know how! Whatever, I'm still kind of shocked that he actually had sex. That kind of grosses me out, because hello? He's old.
There's a story on the news now about beer, same day brewed beer is available at Publix today. Le sigh. I'm distracted now.

Ok, well, its the weekend, time to have some cocktails.

Shorty

Here's the thing. I don't understand GPS systems. I mean, I understand them, but I don't get why everyone has one? It's called googlemaps or mapquest.com. If you don't know where you're going before you leave the house, then you need to stay the fuck home.

And I love how whenever I ask people who have gps systems, why they need one. The response is always, "Oh mapquest is always wrong". WTF? Like how often are you out traveling around without knowing where you're going? I go 3 places: Ruby's school, the liberry, and Publix (box of wine on aisle one).

I know some of you have gps systems, or GARMINS if you really want to impress your friends. I can feel you giving me the side-eye through my computer and I don't care. I could dismantle your little talking map machine and you'd never find my ass anyway, you'd just be driving aorund in random patterns.

Sometimes I get this weird thought in my head that it would be a really good idea to make my own karaoke music videos and put them on the internet, which will give me something to do when I get tired of this blogging shit. Which I am right now. I'm going to bed.

Yo

Eff me, I haven't been keeping up with this like I swore I was going to. I've been really obsessed the last few days with dress shopping. I have to go to the mother of all shithot weddings next month in Hotlanta, and I've been trying desperately to find the perfect dress. I found the most perfect dress in the universe. Of course nothing in my life is ever simple, so I found it at gucci.com and that shit costs 5 grand. So epic fail there.
And that led me to thinking about Britney Jean Spears. That heifer can afford my dream dress. She can afford Gucci's entire fall line. And yet, everytime we see her ass she is rocking the Wet Seal clearance rack tube tops and shit. It's not right. I try to live my life by the credo "When you know better, you do better". It chaps my ass when everyone else in the world doesn't do the same thing.
I wish I gave a shit about these people on Melrose Place. I wish I knew their names. You know, I'm actually glad that I had my formative years during the grunge era, because this shit these 20-somethings wear today is ridonkulous. Hookerchic. It reminds me of that Eddie Murphy routine he did about his grandma "These girrrls be walkin' round, wearin the short skirts, smoking the cocaine, baby what time is it, it's so collld in here". During the grunge era, here was my cute outfit: band t-shirt, flannel shirt, very holey jeans, Birkenstocks. Hair long and parted down the middle. Survey says: fucking embarrassing. But seriously, so much less pressure than having to walk around like hooch of the week.
OMG So my sister asked me last week about the Kardashians, and I didn't even really have an opinion? Well, it came on the other day while I was putting laundry away and holy shit, that is precisely, exactly what is wrong with the state of women in this country today. I blame those skanks for EVERYTHING, ok? All of it. It takes a lot to disgust me, trust that, so for me to call the Kardashians out for being NAST says a lot. Here is a synopsis if you have never seen the show: 3 girls have very low self-esteem and sexual issues out the ying, and have a combined IQ of 34, and their stepdad looks like a Halloween costume. They don't like themselves very much. Kim Kardashian stands around professing to be a size 2 and her sisters are drunk and/or pregnant. OFFENSIVE.
I had a really great ending for this, but then I got caught up in Melrose Place, ugh, so that ending has now shit the bed. Peace out, bitches.

I have a good excuse

I haven't written here in ages because frankly I've been on the can. My youngest daughter Max gave the gift that keeps on giving, diarrhea. We all got it. It was horrific. Anyway, it's over now, so now I can go back to focusing on important things.
When filling out medical paperwork, under psychiatric conditions, is it appropriate to write "batshit crazy"? I had to pre-register with the surgery center where I am being spayed later this year, and this question came up. I really, really wanted to type "completely batshit" under that question, just to see if anyone ever mentions it? But then, what if I run for office someday, that is going to come up.
Really though, I was telling a friend why I was vague in a text I had sent her, and I told her the whole "what if I run for office blah blah blah" thing and she reminded me that she has some texts where I have actually threatened to kill her. So I guess there go my chances for 2012. Shit.
Did you hear that KFed is going to be on Celebrity Fit Club? Like who didn't see that coming? I have said from day one that the only reason KFed let himself get fat like that was because he wanted a celebrity endorsement from Nutrisystem or Biggest Loser, Fit Club, etc. Either that, or he really does hate himself. I mean not that he was all that hot to begin with, he looks like a hillbilly, but it takes an awful lot of work to get that fat that fast. And I should know, I'm a 3 ton walrus.
Ok, not really, but it sounds more credible if I say that. Whatever.

I need to go take a shower and pour a strong drink, I just watched Mackenzie Phillips on Oprah and just ewww. And during the whole show, all I could think about was that Wilson Phillips song, you know the one, where they are singing on top of a cliff while wearing mock turtlenecks? My sister used to play that shit incessantly. She probably still has the cd, if you want to borrow it.

A Moment of Truth Moment

I haven't been on here in a couple of days because I've been cleaning up a lot of vomit, which sounds a lot more interesting than it actually is. When I went to that damn school meeting the other night, I had to leave my youngest with the other toddlers and she got a door prize - vomiting and diarrhea 2 days later. That was most uncool.
This morning I think I might have gotten my first prostate exam, but this is not necessarily anything to congratulate me for because I have a vadge. Today was my annual exam and I usually don't even pay attention to what is going on because I've had two c-sections so at this point, you can't really shock me with anything gyn-related. So I had this really nice, long chat with my doctor - who I adore, by the way - and then at the end of the exam, he says, "I have to do a rectal exam". But the thing is, he said this AS HE WAS DOING THE RECTAL EXAM.
Um.
I told my friend Mark about this and he said, "Well, at least you were at the doctor's office?". And I suppose that's true. I'm not really sure if I was violated or not. I certainly felt violated, it was hard to continue our banter about fitness, etc. after that. The thing is, like I told my husband, I really like my gynecologist and he birthed my 2 children flawlessly, so if I brought some joy to his day then so be it. I do hope this plot gets turned into a Lifetime Moment of Truth movie though. So scandalous.
The bad news is, and you might want to quit reading now because this is just really highly inappropriate, before I left the house to go to my appointment, I had the most horrendous poo! I mean to the point where I considered taking a shower? Like really gross, but I was running a little late and just said to myself, (and this is where intuition kicks in and I should have listened to myself) "Eh, screw it, he's not gonna be looking at my ass". So I just wiped really, really thoroughly and left.
I guess the doctor got a door prize of his own.

Quick, Before the Propofol Kicks In

Apparently, fiber makes for terrible farts. Last week, I realized that it might be time to add some fiber to my diet because my eating habits have been atrocious for the last month or so and I spent Friday doubled over in constipation, among other things. So I got back on track foodwise, and am eating high-fiber oatmeal and a banana for breakfast, followed by a midday fiber bar. I have never been so gassy in my life, I have been breaking hearts and leaving farts all over town. I feel bad for people who walk up on me in a store. Anyway, getting old is rather embarrassing. Who knew?
How about Celine Dion all up on the Oprah show taking about how "she grew up listening to Whitney Houston" and how she is such an inspiration. Bitch, you're the same age! Ok, not exactly, Whitney is 5 years older. Celine got a huge side-eye for that one. What a passive-aggressive compliment that was. Celine grew up listening to the smooth sounds of Rene Angelil. It's true, Wikipedia that shit. Also, he gambles one million dollars a week. Meanwhile, I can't afford to supersize my Big Mac Value Meal (voms....not really). Whatever, Celine, Whitney could totally take you in a fight.
Tonight I had to go to a little parent's workshop at my daughters school (where I was holding in gas like CRAZY). Wait, when I reread that sentence, it sounds like I am a parent who is small in stature. I am of average height. Nevermind, the point was, I was at this meeting, eating pizza and other crapola and clockwatching like a mofo, because you know tonight is totally my CW night. I didn't get out of there until 7:45 and that really ticked me off because bedtime for kids is 8, no later. Grrr. Thank God for a DVR, that's all I have to say.
And so 90210 was not nearly as exciting as the previews from the end of last week's episode promised. Why am I such a moron? Why do I always fall for that shit? ALWAYS. The show isn't even that good, and then tonight was so random because just out of nowhere, for absolutely no reason relating to the story or the plot, Rumer Willis was a guest star. Not even a guest star, more like an extra....she was on camera like 3 minutes total, if that. She spoke one or two lines, and was playing my least favorite type of character...the quirky, nerdy type wearing glasses to hide the fact that she is so fucking awesomely HOT. I hate that character, always. Because let me tell you, I was the nerdy, quirky girl and I was not considered hot or awesome. So it always brings out the side-eye when Hollywood plops some glasses and Converse Hi-Tops on some chick and calls her "nerdy". Grrrr. Does that make sense? Maybe my point is more this: Rumer Willis has no idea what it's like to be the unattractive, nerdy girl (no matter what she looks like....she is popular by default) and hot chicks do not purposely walk around looking like nerds. Also, jocks and popular guys do not fall for the nerdy girl who is really hot underneath the nerdy facade. Bleev dat, bitches, I spent a large majority of 1989 and 1990 waiting for just that to happen. Thanks a lot, Molly Ringwald and your stupid fake movies.
Shit, now I'm just completely ranting about nothing.
Ok, so, 90210 blah blah blah this show is stupid why do I do this to myself but wow I love how these kids dress, I'm so old, I should just give up and start wearing Sansabelt slacks and Easy Rider shoes, wait no Easy Stride? Oh hell, who knows but wait, Is Bo Duke guest starring on 90210? Seriously am I stoned? I don't smoke the weed (Whitney) but it is really making me wonder if maybe that brownie I had at the school meeting was of the pot variety? And Bo Duke is even playing a mean, drunken character. I can't stand it, I need a fainting couch because I totally have the vapors now, and no it isn't my gas.
Tuesday night is just a hot, disastrous mess. I swear I am gonna quit next week. I will totally quit Melrose Place, because it sucks major balls. And blows goats. And I just don't care. Also, Ashlee Fartface is really not very good, and this sucks, because I always like the underdog to succeed and honey, it doesn't get much more underdog than Ashlee (Rumer Willis, you either). Sigh, just an awful show. I don't see it lasting very much longer. Failure.
I'm going to bed, I'm done. Peace out, bitches.

Testes, testes, 1,2....3?

Ok I don't really know what the hell to start with, I usually find that a cocktail helps facilitate the writing process, but since I am no longer drinking during the week, this will be challenging. Don't worry, I make up for what I've missed during the week on the week-ends, which really sort of defeats the purpose, doesn't it?
Anyway, so much shit went down today! It was crazy! Everyone got their panties all bunched up about Kanye West yelling at some little girl (who is creepily tall, by the way) who I wouldn't even have recognized if she walked in my front door right now. Seriously, I thought she had a show on the Disney Channel or some shit. I had to ask my sister Beavis a few months ago, "Who is singing this shit?" and she was all "Taylor Swift", and all this time I thought she was on some tween show but really she belts out country-ish tunes. Whatever. So now everyone is all mad at my Kanye. But I mean, what the fuck? Really? What did you think was gonna happen when you invited the crazy to your party? When you invite the unstable relative to the family reunion (I'm talking to you, sister-in-law), it is on like Donkey Kong.
Kanye is just crazier than a shit house rat, that's what he does. It's who he is. So you can't get pissed at him. His hair, by the way, is hot. I don't care how crazy he is, he wears some amazing, crazy-ass stuff. I love that. And he was right, when you think about it, because hello? Did you see the "Single Ladies" video? Who hasn't tried to do that dance a million times in front of the tv? I call that quality time with the family, personally. True story, the other day we were sitting outside under the patio at Sonic, and that song came on and my kids starting breaking it down like we are the freaking Jacksons or something.
So my point is, boring, who cares, move on, and really does anyone watch MTV anymore? Besides my husband, of course.
For some reason, this morning I started watching The View. I guess sometimes I don't like myself very much and I punish myself like that. Whoopi Goldberg....oh fuck it, I don't even care enough to even continue this rant. Next.
I spent most of today watching the clock, waiting for Oprah to hurry up and come on. You know today was WHITNEY DAY. I thought the whole thing was rather bland, I want to hear about blood and gore, because child please, you know there was some nasty shit up in that crack den. And I must have given about 300 side-eyes during that show, starting with the part where she was all "He was never physical" but then in the next segment she described various incidents where he slapped, grabbed, choked, and spit on her. Bobbaaay can totally suck my balls, for many reasons. He fathered children with other women during that marriage, and she still kept his ass around. What the hell is that? And she said she never smoked crack, per se, like she is too uppity for all that. But I call bullshit on that, because I used the read the National Enquirer every Friday, and they had pictures of her bathroom counter and it was littered with pipes.
She said she would freebase all day long (I love how I'm using terms like "freebase" when I actually have no fucking idea what that means, just pretend I'm street) and that she still read her Bible everyday. Whitney can sang her ass off. Or she could.....her speaking voice sounded kinda shot today, so I question how someone can smoke the cocaine for years and years and still be able to SAAANG. I try not to hate on Whit too much, because shit happens to us all, but you know, the only regret I have about anything in my life is that I cannot sing. Sometimes people are kind and say "Oh, you sing good". Insert side-eye. I know these people are liars and that is just wrong.
I sat there watching the whole thing, and then found out it's a TO BE CONTINUED, which just chaps my ass because I have better things to do than sit around watching freaking Oprah Winfrey but I'm locked in now. And you know Wednesday is all about Michael Jackson, so I may as well write this whole week off. Sack of shit, party of one, your table is ready.