Sunday Scramble 3-14-10

I cordially invite you to join me each week in the Sunday Scramble.  The SS gives you a chance to write down your scattered, random, or just plain stupid thoughts.  No rules apply here.  I give you permission to write anything that's on your mind, whether it makes sense or not!

Okay, lemme know if I'm out of line here.  Each day, I bring Madison to the bus stop and then pick her up in the afternoon.  The girls' stop is half a mile from our house, as it is for many of the kids that take the bus.  So I totally understand all those moms and dads taking the time to bring their kids up there.  But tell me.  Is it really necessary to not only drive them up there, but walk them straight to the damn doors of the bus?  I'm not talking about the littles, but the kids who are 8, 9, 10, and 11 years old.

Then there are the moms that take it even a step further.  They accompany their kids on their bikes.  I have seen a some of these moms send their kids out a couple minutes ahead of them, and then they're seen pedaling like lunatics to get to the bus stop just to see their kid mount the stairs.  I watch all this, sitting in the comfort of my car, where I actually let me child walk from point A (my car) to point B (the bus) all by her lonesome.  The whole 30 or so feet.  Gasp!

Is it any wonder why there are so many children out there that are afraid of their own shadow and have no sense of independence?  It has to start somewhere, and dammit, I think walking 30 or so feet without holding Mommy's hand is a good place to start.

Okay, vent over.


Now you can tell me how wrong I am.



Yay!  Saturday night is my nephew, Jonny's, play!  I'm too excited for words.  Of course, I'll get home too late to add anything about it on this post, but hopefully I'll have plenty to say next week.



I've been rather quiet, haven't I?



Now, we must all bow our heads for a moment in recognition of TAPS  Yes, The Atlantic Paranormal Society.  My beloved Ghost Hunters.

Their little office front in Warwick, RI.

Founder, Jason, and Co-Founder, Grant

Last week they celebrated their 100th episode on the SciFi network and they investigated...

Get this...



Alcatraz!!!!

Did you watch it yet, Sara?  If not, you're in trouble!

I somehow even got Jimmy to watch it a couple of days after the fact, and I could tell that he was intrigued.  He won't come out and say he's a believer, but I know he is.  The TAPS team is so professional and at the core, skeptics.  Not like some of those other ghost hunting shows where they're finding demons behind every closed door.



Congrats to Jason, Grant, Steve, Tango, and the whole TAPS team.  I heart you guys.  And Steve?  I still want to lick the outline of every tattoo you have.


Among other things.

Call me the next time you're in Saint Augustine, investigating the lighthouse, mmmkay?

Let me just say.  I hate blogs that have music playing on them.  How can I concentrate on reading when there are words being thrown at me through my speakers?  Eeks!

I don't know how I forgot to share these pictures of Strudel with you, but I did.

They're scary, so brace yourself.

This is what happens when three people stand inside the slider and the dog wants to get in.

Now this is attractive.

A short video to show you just how spastic this dog is.

Bless her heart.






Now what are you waiting for? Link up!!!





Pssst! If you love me, you might love my stupid sister more. Go visit her at Jill's Believe it or Not, and tell her I sent you!

Sunday Scramble

• Bon Jovi.  I think I'm on overload here.  Ever since Jimmy announced tickets to the Circle concert on April 17th, Madison has lived, breathed and sung Bon Jovi.  Non-stop.  This morning Jimmy was kidding around with her, kind of talking in Bon Jovi lyrics code.  He'd say a random line in a song and Madison would always know the next.  Then he'd say, "Madison, who worked on the docks?"  She'd say, "Tommy.".  Jimmy would say, "Who is Tommy's girlfriend?"  Madison would say, "Gina!"

• At one point, Jimmy said, "Madison, Mommy says you're much too obsessed with Jon Bon Jovi and she thinks you need a therapist.  I found a great doctor to bring you to.  His name is Dr. Richie Sambora."  Madison says, "Nice try.  That's the guitarist!"

• Is this at all normal for an 8-year-old?

• The Bachelor.  He's sweet, he's romantic, he's hot hot hot.

 

• But if he doesn't discard this bimbo this week I just may lose all respect for him.

• Bitchayla strikes again.  This time, she desecrated my Robert Pattinson calendar.  

• I now have something tucked away in the hall closet to show definitive proof of how much stuff Strudel destroys and consumes in a month.  It's called, The Strudel Box:  Dum Dum Dum!!!  Yes, that is its name and it's quickly filling up.  At the end of the month I'll dump it and take pictures for all to see.  

• I think I may need a bigger box.

Case in point:

All that other stuff on the floor?  Clean laundry she decided looked better gracing the carpet rather than the laundry basket.

• You can be mad at her so often and for so many different things, but then you catch moments like this.

I will overlook the fact that A) she's not allowed on the couch and, B) she's also using MY blankie!

• Sinead!!!!  She came over yesterday!  Oh, it was so good to clap eyes on her after 8 years.  She came sans family, and her and I went out for a very late lunch, then I brought her into Publix to show her the glory that is my favorite supermarket.  She bought plungers and shit. It was awesome.

• It's really kind of bizarre how long we've been friends (35 years) and how long it's been since we've even lived in the same state, and how after an hour or so of being together it just went back to being comfortable and easy.

• Sinead does not like TV.  So much so that she does not allow cable in her house.  No, not extended cable.  BASIC cable.   Does this sound odd to anyone else, or is it just me and my whole family that think she's a bit nutso?

• I made her watch an episode of Ghost Hunters International.  I think she likey.  

• No pictures of Nade because she's a privacy freak and I want to respect that.  Well no, I don't want to, but I feel I have to for the sake of a life-long friendship.  

• Sinead called me this afternoon to thank me for yesterday.  Awwww... isn't that just so sweet?  But then?  She turned into the psycho velcro friend we both agreed we abhor!  It went something like this:  "When can I come over with all my boys?  Saturday?  Oh, you're busy then?  Are you sure?  How about Sunday?  HowAboutTodayRightNowWeCanBeInTheCarAndAtYourHouseIn30Minutes..."

• *crickets*

• Okay, so I exaggerate a tiny bit.  But like I told Sinead, I'm not used to having a close friend to make plans with.  I generally don't do plans.  I tell ya one thing, oldest and dearest friend or not, if she starts showing up unannounced I shall denounce her as my oldest and dearest and then skip town.  Sorry Nade. 

•  Mikayla pointed this out to me this week.  (days of the week):  MTWTFSS.

• Should I be proud?  Or scared, perhaps? 

• Jimmy is going to Puerto Rico on business on Monday.  Sonofabitch.

Favorite Bloggy Quote of the Week:

• This week comes to us via Shelley (Ooh shit, am I allowed to use your real name?) of ThatGirl Blogs.

"Even though TheTeen calls hamburger “carcass,” she wanted to help in the kitchen so she made dinner with me.  Sweet right?  Um, yeah, imagine making this dish with a Middle Schooler.  “How big do you want your balls, Mom? You’re going to brown the balls?  Gross!” Fits of giggles.  Snorting.  Doubling over.  She even found some innuendo in the “creamy” potatoes.  Sigh.  Thankfully, TheLittles a) will eat carcass and b) are too busy telling fart jokes to laugh at ball jokes."

I was so glad to find out I'm not the only one that makes inappropriate anatomy jokes with my child.

Now come on peeps, link up and join the fun!!!




Pssst! If you love me, you might love my stupid sister more. Go visit her at Jill's Believe it or Not, and tell her I sent you!

Boundless Joy

If you are a dog owner you have probably noticed that your furry friend loves nothing more than running around wild and untethered, romping with their brethren, getting down to their true roots of being one within a pack.

The best place for our dogs to get this enjoyment?  The dog park!

Unless, of course, you live on multiple acres and have a whole crapload of dogs, then you can just stay home.

A couple of weeks ago I went along with the fam to the dog park Jimmy and Strudel love.  It's nothing fancy... just a large pond in the middle and then grass surrounding it in an oval.  Lots of room for the dogs to stretch their legs and the more aquatically inclined can get their swim on.

Look at the beautiful pit bull puppy.  Aw, they are so cute and innocent looking at this age!

(Please click the photos to enlarge.  It really pisses me off how small the "large" setting is, and how huge the "extra large" setting is.)

I tried my camera's continuous photo setting for the first time and holy crap, I didn't realize it takes a picture like every millisecond!  I had to delete no less than 200 pictures when I got home.  But, it was pretty neat to find this series of pictures, showing Strudel shaking off the water.

I was mesmerized by this one black lab named Duke.  I don't think I've ever seen a dog more in love with the water, or with as much stamina.  For a full hour he did nothing but swim out to get the tennis ball and bring it back to his human.  So well trained and gorgeous.

Mikayla got this quick clip of him.  Look at how intent he is on his human and the ball.  The other dogs are running all over the place and he doesn't even give them a glance.







Gotta love that belly flop!

Strudel has such a great time running with the other dogs. In fact, she tends to run herself into exhaustion, and once in a while she just has to plop her furry ass down and take a breather. Let the other dogs sniff her while she stretches out. It doesn't matter to her that she's stretching out in muddy water, or that it is absolutely frigid.






She reminds me of a gator the way she pulls herself along while still lying down. But then... she's off again!

Remember what she looks like after a romp in the park when Daddy has been too lazy to give her a bath?

Well, when Mommy is there she makes sure we make use the accommodations.  And don't let the picture fool you.  I basically took over from there.  Jimmy is too squeamish to clean Strudel's girly parts.

That water too is completely freezing, but at least it's clean and when she comes home and dries off she looks more like this.

And yes, she does have a leash on while in the house.  It's rarely off of her lately because with it on, when she takes something she's not supposed to, sometimes we get lucky and as she's running away we step on the leash and she's stopped in her tracks.  More times than not though, I'm made to chase her round and round in a circle trying to get whatever it is she's grabbed.  There have been some close calls when I've stuck out my leg to step on the leash and have nearly landed myself in a fat lady split.  

I'll leave you with that delightful imagery. 

Pssst! If you love me, you might love my stupid sister more. Go visit her at Jill's Believe it or Not, and tell her I sent you!

I've Been Liberated! Thanks Strudel!!!

Ugh, I am so stumped for anything to write that it's almost scary.  Me?  Speechless?  Can't be!  But oh, it is. I can't seem to string two thoughts together and it's starting to piss me off.

I'm going to blame it on stress. Or maybe I'll blame it on Strudel. She just poked a few new holes in various parts of my body so I'm feeling spiteful toward her. This past weekend I mentioned to Jimmy my fear that Strudel is somehow mentally challenged.

Soft in the head.

A tad demented.

Possibly in need of psychotropic drugs.

She's eating potting soil at this very moment. But Jimmy says it's our fault she is the way she is.

Don't know if you can tell from this picture, but that's Strudel with her head inside a mostly empty planter.  Yum yum.

See?  Demented.

So like I said, Jimmy says she's not a bad dog, but we're bad owners.

I beg to differ. I have never so much as played tug of war with her, to give her the idea that biting onto and holding onto any part of my person is an acceptable means of entertainment. She doesn't only jump up and chomp down, but does it over and over again and the more you reprimand her the more excited she gets. The more excited she gets, the harder she chomps down. I wouldn't go so far as to say it's aggressive biting, but it for sure isn't play biting either.

She was just at it again and I started videoing her so you'd believe me.




I need Cesar Milan in the worst way. If anyone has any connections, please let me know.

My kinda dog trainer.  Errr... whisperer.








Hell, at this point I'll even take that irritating English chick from It's Me or the Dog.

Just look at her. She's gone all canine doginatrix and shit.

So you know how in the past I've told you that golden retrievers are known to have a soft mouth?  Well I'm here to tell you, there ain't nothing soft about Strudel's mouth.

She loves licking out the remains of tuna from the can.  Sometimes I make her extra happy by smearing peanut butter in it for her.  She then proceeds to skitter and chase that can all over the kitchen.

A couple of days ago I gave her a tuna can to lick and this is what her bear teeth soft mouth has done to it.

Who needs a can crusher when I've got Stru?

Hey, at least she released me from what seemed like a never-ending blog fart, right?  Thanks Stru.


Pssst! If you love me, you might love my stupid sister more. Go visit her at Jill's Believe it or Not, and tell her I sent you!

Warming it Up a Bit

A couple of weeks ago I had this bright idea on how to make my lanai (which is basically my bitch cave) more cozy and cute for me. I decided I was going to string Christmas lights around the perimeter of the overhang and then buy a cool paper lantern to hang over the table.

All great in theory, but how does one hang a lantern without putting a hole in the rented ceiling? Command hooks! Yeah, those work great, except I didn't buy Command hooks. I bought some generic kind, but look... pretty!




But then it fell. Twice. I was not too happy about having to move the table and chairs again and drag the 253 pound ladder around either. After it fell the second time, I knew I had to get the real Command hooks, generic crap be damned.

I was not looking forward to stringing the lights around the overhang either, because, let's face it, I'm fat. It's not fun hefting this globular body up and down a ladder multiple times. Once I'm up there, if I get down that's it. I don't wanna get up again.

But silly me, I forgot. I've got Mikayla and she loves doing stuff like this. I'm a total advocate of domestic child labor.

Then she asked me how we were going to hang them up there.

*crickets*

Then it came to me. Paper clips! Yes, paper clips could work. If I had any, which I didn't. So of course I hunt Michelle down in her driveway and demand paper clips and lots of em. She put out, just as I knew she would and off Mikayla went, up up up the ladder. I was the paper clip bender and ladder dragger. Whew, it was hard work too.




Up and down, up and down, up and down she went. Do you see the size of that ladder? And believe me, it's even heavier than it looks!



Look at the pretty reflection in my just-cleaned windows. I love clean windows! I just hate doing the actual cleaning of them.




Next, I took the bulbs out of the light fixtures because damn, it got mighty bright out here!

It looks cute, no? And isn't it great that we have all woods behind us, no houses? Nice for privacy. That is, if Michelle's back porch, kitchen and dining room windows didn't look directly out on my bitch cave. I have to be real wily about picking my nose and such.




Anyhoo, I decided it was still a bit too bright, so I went to Wal*Mart (gasp... don't judge!) and bought a 25 watt green bulb. Now I truly love it and I'm even ready for Christmas! Shhh... don't tell ThatGirl. According to her, we're not allowed to even think about Christmas until December 1st. I've renamed her ThatScrooge.




Then one 70 degree night, Jimmy felt the need to light a fire. Ya know, 'cause we were freezing our Floridian asses off. Strudel was fascinated by it and kept jumping up to attack the floating ashes. I was just glad she didn't become a pupkabob.






And speaking of Strudel, I think we have the golden retriever from hell. Goldens are known to have a "soft mouth" and a gentle nature. I have scrapes and tooth marks all over my body that say otherwise. I can't even describe the pain when she latches on to my tummy's fat roll. And ooh, a couple of times she's come up behind me and actually grabbed hold of my sensitive inner thigh meat! A few months ago, my friend, Kristen, said, "You're the only family in the world that could ruin a golden retriever." Yep, uh huh.

Yeah, a pupkabob is sounding better and better. Anyone have a really large skewer they could lend me?



Pssst! If you love me, you might love my stupid sister more. Go visit her at Jill's Believe it or Not, and tell her I sent you!

Various Halloween Crap and Some Whining

Due to the extremely underwhelming response to my "answers" post I've decided to put any other answers on hold for a while. Yes, I'm whining and bitching and acting like a baby, but hey, it's my blog and I can throw a self-pity party if I want to!

I hate it when the amount of comments drop so drastically, seemingly out of the blue.

But in spite of that I still have to share a few Halloween pictures with ya. There aren't many, and the ones Jill promised to email me still haven't shown up in my inbox. She's mean like that.

It pisses me the hell off that I can't show you pictures of Alexa and Gianna, but for the time being Jill and I are keeping them off the internet. Ya know, because there's a psychotic-habitual liar-scam artist-thief-wife abuser-asshole on the loose. Not naming names. Just sayin'.

I'm also pissed that because of said asshole I had to edit my pictures to just show my kids. Ugh.

It's no secret that Halloween is not one of my favorite holidays. Honestly, I find it ridiculous to spend gobs of money on tacky costumes that the kids will wear for a total of 3 hours, to then be thrown to the back of the closet. And all for candy.

Okay, maybe it is worth it for chocolate. But ya know, I can't eat it, so no, it's not worth it!

But, I did take the holiday and make it an excuse to do funky makeup and hair. If only it truly showed up in the following pictures, because believe me, it was a bit more dramatic than it appears here.



Yeah baby! When Larry saw me later he said, "Ooh girl, you worked the texture!"


And of course I had to give you a goofy, eye-glittery smile!



I sometimes find it amazing that I purposely make myself look uglier than normal and then have the audacity to post the pictures for all to see.

A bit later in the day I changed my shirt and added a spider clip to my hair that Jill brought along with her. Don't laugh, I was trying to look vampish. I just wasn't pulling it off very well. As I took these pictures my mother was sitting by, snickering at the absurdity.


Looks like the same picture, but it's not. If you click on the picture you'll be able to see the spider fairly well. Of course, then you'll also see my nasty skin too. It's up to you if you want to take the chance.




Before we take a look at the kids, how about a couple pictures of my mother?

Yes, Virginia, there really is a straight jacket waiting for you...





Let's get a bit closer so you can see a perfect representation of geriatric insanity.






The ugly shirt wasn't enough. The ugly necklace and earrings weren't enough. The clashing lipstick wasn't enough. Oh no, she had to add a pumpkin headband and an orange Zoro mask? No wonder my father was walking 20 feet behind her. You don't see him in this picture because he's still standing near the front door!

I told you that wackiness comes naturally to me! Look at the example I had growing up!

But aw, look at my Madison, crouched down in her kitty pose.

Had to do a bit of creative editing here.

And here

And yeah, I'm a terrible mom because I didn't get any shots of Mikayla dressed as a bumble bee. But that's actually okay, being that she didn't wear tights (too hot!), the costume was way too short and she was wearing high heeled Mary Janes. I never knew a bumble bee could look like a ho until Mikayla got dressed up.

Only kidding! Only kidding! My first born could never look like a ho! But she did.

I do have one picture of her, after Trick or Treat, holding her loot. Look at the size of that tin and look at how filled it is! Holy crap!

Just ignore the man beside the ladder. And ignore the ladder that the man was supposed to put away but didn't.



All in all it was a nice day, and great to be surrounded by my family. The neighborhood was literally crawling with ghosts and goblins and dogs dressed up...



Oh wait! Strudel! She was also a bee, but not a ho bee. She wouldn't keep her antennae on though. Could you blame her?



And as if she wasn't feeling violated enough, she had to wear her snout collar while out Trick or Treating.




Another thank you to Ethel for letting Strudel borrow the costume. And another apology to Missie because Strudel ate it.

Before I go, let me ask all of you a question. If I were to do a vlog post, what would you like me to talk about? Or, should I not do a vlog post at all? After all, I could never live up to the standards of YaYa.




Pssst! If you love me, you might love my stupid sister more. Go visit her at Jill's Believe it or Not, and tell her I sent you!

Friday Fragments

Well, here I am again, with permission to be as discombobulated as I please. Ah, that's the beauty of Friday Fragments!




Bitch of the Week: Jill Again!

Okay, well all know sister Jill loves me, right? Right! But there are times that I'm hard pressed to truly believe it. Especially when she says things like this:

"Justine, you really need to get a different CPAP mask. The snausages are giving you a pig snout."

Really sis, that is so rude and completely untrue! Why, my nose is just as petite and adorable as it's always been!






That same day she dropped another bitch bomb on me, this time while she was sitting in the "stylist's" (and I use that term very loosely for anyone who works at a chain hair joint) chair at Great Clips.

Now keep in mind that I had no clue we would be going anywhere that day, so aside from actually putting on a bra so as not to scare young and old alike with my pendulous bosom, I did not do my hair or makeup. I went au naturale.

So there I am, sitting at the station beside Jill, listening to her telling the "stylist" exactly what she wants done and exactly how she should go about doing it. To make her point crystal clear she pointed to me and said, "I do not want my hair to look like hers."

Squee!!!!! She did not just say that! Oh yes she did! Is it my fault that I didn't do my hair because we weren't going anywhere that day? Is it my fault that I was too impatient to wait for a cut from either Larry or Sasha, so took Kristen's advice and went to the new spa right near the house? The spa that is all uppity, with mimosas chilling in a decanter, relaxing music tinkling through invisible speakers and wanna-be Tabithas at every station?


Is it my fault that the dumb bitch who cut my hair thought I needed a little bit more here, and a bit more there and then proceeded to charge me $50 (plus tip!) to walk away looking like she hadn't cut even one hair?

Okay yeah, so all of that is my fault. But did Jill have to rudely point it out? No she did not! Oh sister dear, you are so going to hate payback when it comes!

Hmmm... Where will my melon lead us now?

Trailer Trash?

Ya know how when you go buy a live Christmas tree, the handy-dandy tree lot boys tie the tree securely to the top of your car? Well, I just noticed yesterday that there is still a big hank of orange string attached to my luggage rack. From last year. Like 10 months ago. Orange. On my car. From last Christmas.




Patheticness. (it's a word because I say so)

Wanna know what's really pathetic? Today I stopped by the library to feed my insatiable addiction to the written word. I knew I had a fine for over-due books, but when the woman told me I owed 15.30 I nearly pooped myself. What the hell? How is that even possible when I can check my account online and even renew the books if I can't make it to the library when they're due? It's not like I can claim that I'm rarely on the internet and therefore cannot check my account. I'm still sitting here puzzled over the fact that I let my .10 a day per book get me into $15 worth of debt to the damn library. And that damn library? Just changed their fines to .25 a day per book. Rut roh. I'd better bookmark the website and set up reminders for myself or I'll have to go in there with my American Express at the ready next time.

Swine Flu.

This thing is a horrendous bitch and has apparently been mutating itself. I was told that once you get it you can't get it again. Hmph. Lies! My friend Ethel's son had it last month, and guess what? He's got it again, and this time a million times worse. And as if having the pig flu isn't bad enough, he also just tested positive for mono! Egads, the poor kid.



Single Parenthood.

It sucks and it's basically been my life since the end of July. Jimmy has always had to do quite a bit of traveling in his position but these past few months have just been beyond pathetic. A huge pizza dough-making job in Tennessee that's gone wrong wrong wrong. At no fault of Jimmy or his company, mind you, but the people they hired to install the equipment. But, Jimmy is the head of the project and apparently the head honcho of the pizza dough-making plant thinks Jimmy is the only one capable of getting things done right and demands that he be present at nearly all times. So, Monday through Friday he lives in TN and on weekends he visits home. Lucky bastard doesn't have to put up with Bitchayla's tween angst but for 48 hours a week.

Destructo

I got my new cell phone this week. It's a cool Samsung Behold with a touch screen.




The charger?

Strudel ate it.



Anyone want a golden retriever?



Pssst! If you love me, you might love my sister more. Go visit her at Jill's Believe it or Not, and tell her I sent you!