September 26, 2009

You Thought I Was Kidding...

but I totally wasn't. I'm on Episode 12 of Season 2 of Lost. I've formed many opinions on the characters but I really don't have time to get really into it so we'll stick to the top 5 on my mind right now.

Sawyer - um, I don't get it. He's an ass and not even a good looking one in my opinion.

Jack - yes, please.

Kate - you are truly irritating me with your doe eyes and your split personality. When exactly are you gonna get killed off?

Claire - honey, you might want to be nicer to Charlie cuz you and your kid are kind of a pain in the ass. Get over yourself, mkay?

Charlie - I adore your heroine addicted, crappy rock band playin', English arse!

September 23, 2009

Lost on Netflix

I'm sorry, Martians is on hiatus because I've Lost (Lost, get it?) my mind and decided to watch Lost from the beginning on Netflix Instant. I can't be bothered with such silly things as blogging and taking care of my children. This show is awesome!

September 20, 2009

Merely A Spectator

It happens everyday but I never remember until I see it begin again.

A beat up '93 Jimmy pulls into the school turn-about and he gets out. Obviously fresh from his job, probably as a mechanic or landscaper, he looks like sort of a "rough-neck" kinda guy.



He stands next to the truck until the bell rings when he steps forward, seeming almost as impatient as the little boy he's there for probably is. The kid, a first-grader maybe, with his black Spider Man backpack flopping on his back flies into the arms of the man, who I can only assume is his dad.


It's not a quick hello hug, they hold tight. The boy's arms tight around the man's neck and the man's arms just as tight around the boy. He loosens his grip only to open the back door to put the boy inside the truck. I can't see them after that and I have to stop watching to get Aidan anyway but I'd watch longer if I could.

September 18, 2009

Fuck It Friday

I've been trying like hell to figure out what this healthcare bill is. What it says. What it means. Who's getting screwed and who isn't... At first glance it appears to be written in English but when taken in whole, it might as well be written in Old Latin cuz that's how much sense it makes to me. Here, go give it a shot! It's exhausting! So ya know what? Fuck it!

Here's my trouble... ha! like my trouble could be pinpointed by one single thing, right? ...people who know me but don't really know me are finding out about the blog. I don't think about it being linked on my Facebook page when I friend add them and next thing I know there are all these hits from my city. You cannot know the panic that stings my chest when I see my city on my stats. So far I've gotten a few "love the blog" emails and I haven't got kicked out of any organizations yet but brilliantly witty as I am, someone's bound to "frown upon" the bloggy me. But what am I gonna do? Bloggy me is me. So ya know what? Fuck it.

Farm Town and I are breakin' up. I was going to get to the top level and then quit but I'm bored. It's taking so long to get the experience points to level up, Aidan will be graduating college before I'm there. So ya know what? Fuck it.

I'm sitting on several awards that some of you guys have given me. It's not that I don't appreciate them, I actually love them and I get a big ego whenever I get one but then I'm all focused on my ego and I forget to formally accept them and I feel awful and I email you and say I'm getting to it but I'm really not because I just don't get on it... then I decide I'm gonna just put them 3 at a time in my sidebar and link to whoever gave it to me but then I'd need a new sidebar title and my designer is busy as hell and I'm cheap as hell and I don't wanna pay for it so then I don't even do that nope, the run-on sentence from hell is not over and now I'm just a blog-schmuck and there's no turning back and ya know what? Fuck it.

So, what do you think of Fuck It Friday? I find myself extremely happy with it but there goes that ego again and who's to say it isn't only because I adore the word fuck so much?

September 17, 2009

The Dog's Turn

I don't think I've let my dog have it on the blog. She's part of the family, why should she get left out? I'm an equal opportunity bitcher. Is bitcher a word cuz I'm getting a red line under it. Whatev - my blog, my words.

I think Lexi has restless leg syndrome. It goes beyond the "running in their sleep" thing that all dogs do. She'll just be laying there - you know, awaiting Asher's next blow - and her hind leg will just jerk around for a few seconds. She looks down at it as if to say What the sam hell is that!?!? And I'm all Don't ask me, you were a rescue dog, you could have Tourette's for all we know! And by the way, could you please stop crapping right at the end of the kid's slide? That'd be great!

Another deficit to her dog-ness is the sense of security that she fails to provide me. First you should know that I'm paranoid. When I'm at home during the day every door is locked, even the one to the garage. And I go for the loaded gun from the safe often when I hear something. I don't take comfort in the low crime rate here. I've seen Dateline, it usually starts with "It was the kind of place where no-one locked their doors..." and ends with an entire family slaughtered in their beds. Not this family, mkay? So when I hear something and get scared, you're supposed to sense that and bark or at least act like you'd do more than just lick whoever came to butcher me. Some damn watchdog you are.

Also, I think she sees dead people. She'll be asleep in the middle of the day, cuz that's what she does, she's kind of an "indoor girl", no chasing squirrels for her. So anyway, she'll be asleep and all of a sudden pop her head up and look at something. Not at me or the kids. Not at anything I can see. But she watches it move around the room. I don't like it. It's creepy. What the hell are you looking at?!?! Stop it!

September 15, 2009

I Really Don't Know What I'm Doing, Do I?

I'm really not sure how Aidan got potty trained. I know I encouraged him, maybe sat with him in the bathroom a few times but I knew he wasn't going to potty train until he was ready and not a second sooner. Next thing I knew, I wasn't buying diapers anymore. Not until Asher filled that void. Now Asher is 2 and diapers are still expensive. That, paired with him telling me he's pooping, probably means I should get started. Since he's a little less violently dramatic than Aidan, off we go.


I pulled out the potty chair this morning and stripped him nekkid when he said "poop". He peed in it. About 60 times. One drop at a time. And he won't stop. He won't let me empty it and he won't quit squatting over it. Love the enthusiasm, Ash, but we got stuff to do today so wrap it up, ok?




Update: 2 hours later - He's still nekkid, still dripping into the potty only now he's eating bacon. I'd take a picture but I know there's some sick pervert who would search for 'n@ked toddler sitting on potty eating bacon' and then I'd have to lose my damn mind. I don't have time for that today.

September 13, 2009

A Smartass Sunday Quote

I freakin' love Roseanne Barr


"I'm not going to vacuum 'til Sears makes one you can ride on."


Amen, sista!

September 12, 2009

Neighborhood Blog Fodder

We've got some neighbors. Not the Jackass Neighbors, things on that front have been pretty quiet. The neighbor I'm talking about will be referred to as Monk - you know, because of the OCD thing.

Monk has the best yard on the block. There's a method to his madness. Every Wednesday, rain or shine, Mr Monk edges his sidewalks and driveway. Every Thursday, rain or shine, Monk mows his lawn. In perfectly straight, diagonal lines. We've even seen him cutting the grass with scissors.

Scissors!

When he's done mowing he washes the mower and sometimes he waxes it.

Oh, yes. I'm totally serious!

Also, if it's raining, they pull the cars in the garage and towel them dry.

So today we were thinking about calling the cops because we assumed one of them was dead. See, the lawnmower was just shoved into the garage. We figured there were two explanations - either Mrs Monk killed Mr Monk and she didn't put the mower away correctly OR Mr Monk is going to kill Mrs Monk when he sees the mower sitting in there like that. Either way, something wasn't right over there.

P.S.     Currently is it midnight and I swear on my laptop, Mr Monk is out there waxing his car.

P.P.S.     We're pretty sure Mr Monk would stroke out at the site of the inside of my truck right now.


September 10, 2009

Turns Out It Was A Very Useful Feature

The thing I miss most about my Mariner is that nifty little keypad feature. If I still had that, there would be no need for the nice police officer to come when the little terror known as Asher climbs into my truck and locks himself in. 

Not only does he lock himself in and refuse to pull the handle to open the door, he very slowly and deliberately take his socks and shoes off and rummages through my purse while smiling and I imagine thinking Um, Mom, you can't do anything about this and I looooove it!!! 

Then he promptly falls asleep in there. So it's not like I could spank his naughty little butt when we got him out, right?

September 9, 2009

Pretty Please? For Me?

I really try to reply to all my comments. Except Anonymous and she can kiss my ass. I get my comments sent to my email inbox and it's so easy to hit reply and let my funny flow. Please, for the love of Martians, put your email address in there so I can respond to the comments that make my day. Please? Pretty please? With sugar on top? P L E A S E?????

September 8, 2009

Herb Potatoes

What The Hell Is Happening To My Blog?


Ya'll, don't laugh but I'm about to post a recipe.

It's really not THAT funny. I can cook. A little.

These are so yummy! I'm making some right now and we just had them for dinner last night. That's just one of my quirks, I get a taste for something and will. not. let. it. go. In this case it's Herb Potatoes. I got the initial recipe from Lisa and subsequently butchered it to suit my own tastes.

Also, I don't measure, I go by what feels like enough. And these portions are what I make for my family. Adjust accordingly.
Start with 6 to 8 small to medium red potatoes (unpeeled). You can boil them for 20-25 minutes if you want to or you could just stick them in a pressure cooker for 8 minutes and voila! I'm lazy, guess what I do?

While your potatoes are cooking coat the bottom of your baking pan with olive oil. Lightly sprinkle salt (or sea salt), pepper, garlic salt, Cajun Shake (or Creole Seasoning), Rosemary, and Thyme onto the oil.

When the potatoes are done, cut each one in half and place it peel up into the oil/seasoning mixture. Then slightly mash each potato with a fork just enough to split it a bit.

Repeat the oil and seasoning on top of the potatoes. bake at 450 for 30-35 minutes. Until the potato skins are crispy.
Try it! You can thank me later :)

September 7, 2009

Dear Mama

If Aidan were to write a letter to me I imagine it might go something like this.


Dear Mama,


Why can't I watch Noggin from the time I wake up until I go to bed? Kai Lan is my friend! And why do you cover year ears and twitch when Yo Gabba Gabba comes on? These are the coolest things I've ever seen. Why don't you get it?


Chicken nuggets really can be eaten at every meal. Even breakfast. What's wrong with that? Isn't meat healthy? I even think it's a great snack. Also, every meal should include dessert. Every one. It's part of a well balanced diet.


Can I have that big sling shot yet? Or the skateboard? I really want that skateboard. Nevermind that I wreck my bike and scooter many, many times each day. I can take it. And I r e a l l y want it!


You should really stop threatening to call Daddy when I'm naughty because he's busy and he can't come. Plus, I'm not scared of him either.

Love you, Mama
Aidan



September 1, 2009

One Pound, Two Pounds, Three Pounds?

We have an experiment in mind. It involves one of our kids. Surely that's legal, right? We're not talking shock treatments here - not that I haven't considered testing those dog collars to keep them out of the damn street. But that's neither here nor there, mkay?

We think we need to know exactly how much meat Asher could eat. And here's why. We used to buy two steaks for the 4 of us to share. Then Asher started eating and holy hell, we need four steaks now. This incident might have set things off and things haven't tapered down any.

Mr thinks we should just put down a plate of meat, a pound at a time, and see how much he devours. My bet is on a full pound, minimum. Watch the video at that link and place your bets because the experiment is bound to happen.