sunday stuff

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18

For those that know me in real life, here's an acutal definition of a hoser!

Let me speak out of my ass for a moment...

Siberian Tiger
Originally uploaded by pixelstate.

I know, I promised more positive posts, but that's in 2008.

I am NOT an animals-first type person. I think PETA does some fine work, and I think PETA is full of crack pot lunatics with waaaay too much time on their hands. If I find out that baby kittens were tortured to find the cure for cancer, I will feel bad. Right up until someone I love gets Cancer. (Sorry, Gretty)

But I took my O's to the zoo when Little O was Tiny Toddling O , and I swore I'd not go back. The animals were magnificent, but looked unhappy. The people were horrific, and I almost got into fights over people teasing the chimpanzees. Those primates are probably smarter than you and the fact that they are stuck over there does NOT give you the right to hoot and leer at them. They are demonstrating a great deal more dignity that you, you fat redneck hick. Nice mullet.

I suspect the kid who died in San Francisco was probably the best of the three, but I don't know how much credit I can give him beyond that. The brothers sound like fucking scum of the earth, and if that shoe print up on the wall matches, I hope the zoo sues THEM for the cost of a Siberian Tiger and lost business. The fact that they are being uncooperative with the authorities just confirms to me that they are more that a little at fault, and now a tiger following it's natural instincts, as well as a poor stupid boy, are dead. Those fuck-up brothers are going to sue the zoo out of existence. The fact that the dead boy's dad called looking for him on CHRISTMAS DAY, and he was dodging calls, and the brothers bold faced lied to his dad, says to me that the kid was not the snow white angel his family makes him out to be. Still doesn't mean he should be dead.

But neither should that tiger.

This has been a post from Jen, speaking out of my ass too soon on a news story that we've still only heard half of. I may regret it, much like my post on the HPV shill--who turned out to be totally legit, and is my secret vice to read. But I say again I think those boys had some role in taunting that tiger.

I HAVE STUPID ACRONYM POSTING ENVY.

My new years resolution is to remember to post the OTHER side of my personality (or is it another personality entirely?), the POSITIVE side.

 

And to post more often.

 

Like, everyday.

 

In honor of my resolution, I present my own crazy acronym. 

 

Because seriously?  November is a crazy busy month for me.  But I want to be like the cool kids.

I'm such a lemming.

 

January

jen

just

post

more

positive

posts

en

too

 

JanJenJuPoMoPoPoEnTodo

 

 

 

 

Thursday wanderings...

May I just say that Pakistan continues to scare the ever loving bejeebus out of me?

 

RIP, Ms. Bhutto, I think you were our best shot at a little stability over there.

 

***************

 

Did you all have a deeelightful Christmas?

 

My sweet Sister-in Law, my brother's wife, has started a war. 

 

She gave Little O a pink and black tackle box full of make up.

 

In response to that volley, I told her that she left me no choice but to  buy my gorgeous seventeen year old niece a fake ID.

 

Because the make up is, in fact, damn near invisible, I conceded that we will make sure it's a one name ID a-la-McLovin.

 

McLovely makes her sound like a Grey's Anatomy cast member.

 

*******************

 

My weird mother-issues continue. 

 

I have had an ice cream maker on my Christmas list for the last three years, ever since my brother and sister in law started making ice cream.  When my mom came through just before my birthday, I spied an ice cream ball in her back seat.  I was sure I was getting one for my birthday or maybe Christmas. 

 

Nope. 

 

She gave an Ice Cream ball to my brother and his family (who already make ice cream with his ice cream maker and started me on this whole kick) and she either gave one to SIL's cousin (who is a fabulous guy and I certainly do not begrudge him a flipping ice cream ball), or maybe balls to each of the kids?  I dunno, there were two floating around, and not one for me!  Still nothing for my birthday.  I am becoming obsessive and a little crazy about the whole birthday thing.  I feel like golem. 

 

My buuuuuurthdayyyyyyyy....

 

It's a little black speck on my shiny green soul.   (Do you see your soul as colored?  I envision it as granny smith green.)

 

 

Merry Christmas!

I hope you are all safe and warm...

My MIL went into the hospital and is still in (although they may be busting her out today). The Sisters in law, collectively, decided on Friday to take me up on my hosting offer for Christmas Eve, and the honey didn't tell me until AFTER I'd spent every last dime on Christmas. Ack.

But in spite of having no seating, a frozen turkey, and the SIL's dog eating the cheesecake, it was a nice evening.

THESE were a big hit. I like the peppermint better than the plain. As long as you have a mixer, super easy to do, but the dredging at the end is a little messy.

Currently cooling in the fridge is my first attempt at These. We'll see if they cool in time to take to my brother's. The honey's fam was here until 3 am, so little O is still passed out. Not even Santa could bring her out of her warm cozy bed.

Merry Christmas!

I heart my boy.

Santa is coming to little O's preschool today, and she has been STRESSIN' over what she can wear to look her prettiest for Santa.

 

She talked me into letting her wear her new skirt we'd been saving for Christmas eve.

 

Big O looked at his sister this morning and told her,

 

"You know Little O, Santa would think you're beautiful no matter what you wear."

 

I called him on that one right away, and told him he'd just earned an extra present from Santa for saying such a sweet and wonderful thing.  Then I shot him down that no, Santa would not be bringing him an Xbox or a Wii based upon a lovely compliment to his sister, but he should remember lines like that when he gets older. 

 

 

sunday quizzez

You Know a Lot About Christmas

You got 6/10 correct You know tons about the history and traditions surrounding Christmas. When you celebrate the holidays, you never forget their true meaning - or all the little fun details. Random Christmas fact: "Jingle Bells" was originally written as a Thanksgiving song.

How Much Do You Know About Christmas?

What Star Trek Species Are You?
You scored as a Federation
You Are The Federation, You prefer to be alone and learn. You enjoy helping people and know how to talk things up. You would help people into the spotlight before yourself
Federation
75%
Vulcan
50%
Cardassian
50%
Borg
45%
Klingon
45%
Ferengi
45%
Dominion
40%
Romulan
30%

What Trek Species are You?




Are You Damned?
Brought to you by Rum and Monkey

You can laugh at the silly superstitions of the religious, safe in the knowledge that we are only dust and lies. All that will be left of you after you die is a slow decay and some fading memories in the minds of your friends. Hope you're enjoying your life at the moment- there's nothing better to come.

Yesterday sucked Donkey.

We've had no heat since we moved in. It hasn't been an issue until oh, say , mid November, when things got a little chilly. Jumped through a few hoops for my sweet elderly landlady, and was waiting yesterday for a heater guy.

Work called and said they really needed me like, twenty minutes ago. craaaap.

So called and cancelled the heater guy and went to work. Since I was gone half the morning and NEED money, decided to take my paycheck to the bank AFTER work.

Did I mention that Kmart only loves the po' so much, and all lay aways must be retrieved by Saturday?

Which of course means that I left my paycheck sitting on my desk as I drove at warp speed to the bank yesterday. Tried to call work and my cell phone was dead. So now my paycheck is locked up all weekend, my lay-away is going to be reshelved, and our cars?

yeah. on E.

I guess we have food and lights, so it's not all bad, right? And a seven foot Chrismas tree. And sweet sweet DSL.

Wednesday Hero

This Week's Hero Was Suggested By Louie

Bill Juneau
36 years old from Rush City, Minnesota
November 27, 2007

If there was one thing Bill Juneau loved as much as his country, it was his dog, Jake.

The accident-prone black Lab, who has been hit by two cars, had a toe amputated on his right paw and survived eating 42 candy bars in one sitting, once fell off a dock and through the ice on a lake while Juneau was hunting with his best friend, Dan Bock.

Bock said Juneau jumped into the icy, chest-deep water to save his dog.

"He threw that wet dog on the deck and sacrificed everything to save him," said Bock. "Bill's just that type of guy."

Juneau, a 10 year veteran of the Chisago County sheriff's deputy, was in Iraq helping to train Iraqi police recruits when his convoy was hit by and IED 50 miles outside Baghdad. A spokesperson for DynCorp, the private firm Juneau was working for, said Juneau was driving the lead vehicle in the large convoy that included U.S. Army personnel as well as members of the Iraqi National Police Force. The convoy was headed for a scheduled training mission. An Iraqi translator and a U.S. Army soldier sustained injuries in the blast as well.

His twin sister, Bridget Sura, said he wanted to help Iraqis rebuild their country and create better lives. "He would often sugar-coat the bad stuff, because he wanted us to know about the positive things," she said. "But we still worried every minute of every day." Another reason he joined was because he loved adventure, she said. While with the Chisago County Sheriff's Department, he started and led the country's SWAT team.

Jake, his dog, has been embraced by Juneau's sister's family. "He has more lives than a cat," Sura said, adding that they recently discovered a chocolate stash he'd hidden in his kennel.

"Jake is a part of my brother," she said. "He[Bill] will be missed by a lot of people. This will leave a hole in a lot of people's hearts."

These brave men and women sacrifice so much in their lives so that others may enjoy the freedoms we get to enjoy everyday. For that, I am proud to call them Hero.
We Should Not Only Mourn These Men And Women Who Died, We Should Also Thank God That Such People Lived

This post is part of the Wednesday Hero Blogroll. For more information about Wednesday Hero, or if you would like to post it on your blog, you can go here.

sick day

Sayre posted her favorite ornaments. I wantd to do that for a TT, but I am home today feeling like dog, and so I present to you the three santas that I have managed to photograph.

 
 
 

The Tradgedy of Testicular Blindness...

My friends, it is apparent to me that we have an epidemic on our hands.

 

Yes, I am talking about the horror that IS Testicular Blindness.

 

Isn't it true that Bulls charge the cape because it's about the only thing they see moving?  Don't they have huge testicles?  It's like as the boys descend, so does some sort of film over the eyes of the ovary-challenged, and they lose the ability to find the things that are right in front of them.

 

Where are my socks?  Um... in the drawer?  Oh.

 

Yesterday the Honey blamed the decided lack of Christmas lights on the outside of the house on the fact that he and Big O could not find them.  I snorted and said something under my breath about sending money to the Institute for Testicular Blindness (It's a charitable institution loosley associated with CRSE's brilliant School for the Chronic Asshole). 

 

The Honey challenged me. 

 

He said we should test my theory, using our sweet Little O, who is delightfully testicle free. 

 

I agreed.

 

We got home, and I casually asked Little O to get me the Christmas lights for outside. 

 

She ran joyfully into the house, straight to the table in the living room where all things christmas are stuffed out of the way, and pulled, FROM THE FRONT, CLEARLY VISIBLE from any angle in the living room, the very box that had been invisible to the boys.

 

Testicular blindness, people.

 

 

The Blue Light Special

On my BIG list, of things I envision in our life as the Cleavers, has always been a ping pong table. Why? Damned if I know.

Pool table? Nice, but honestly, you have to have an epic room to have a pool table set up (because no, it will NOT be the centerpiece of the living room). A ping pong table is good clean fun (and pool can be so very dirty...) and would also get Big O and the Honey something that is neither sport NOR Video game.

At our old house a ping pong table was never an option, but this house has a porch that is crying out for a folding green table. With small rubberized paddles (stop that) and featherweight balls that wouldn't damage anything if they got away.

So it seemed like destiny when KMART had a one day special on Friday. Eighty bucks for my slice of the american dream. Now, friends, eighty bucks is nothing--Except for the ever hovering spectre of abject poverty that flashes at the sides of my vision like some evil ghost of christmas future. But Kmart, my friends, specializes in abject poverty. They gots them the lay away. Sheeee-it.

So off I went to squander the extra hour I had, because work let us off early to prepare for the Christmas party. An hour should be long enough to put one item on the lay away, no?

Aw, HELLS NO, y'all.

This is the Central Valley, and I was goin' to the Southside. Unlike the northside Kmart, which they tore down to build a lovely Eddie Bauer/J Jill/ REI complex more in keeping with the Northside's yuppie ideal, southside has their lay away in the same hallway as the bathrooms. Because really, who doesn't want to stand in line as the great unwashed brush much too close to you on their way to and from the facilities?

For the entertainment of the masses, let me present the family Crack. Mama crack needs a bath. A toothbrush. Some basic hygeine. She's waiting for the clerk to fetch her christmas goods from the lay away. I know how to say it now. It's The Lay Away. Daddy Crack is there to move the basket around in random patterns while waiting for the clerk to fill it up. Uncle Crack is bitching about the injuries he got in Iraq--they all think that's hilarious. Oh, he was also in Vietnam and Korea. Uncle Crack looks maybe forty--which means he is probably twenty five in human years, and fifty in crack years. Look! Here comes grandma Crack, who drops off crack baby, because he needs to go. Mama Crack think it's hilarious to shove him into the men's room and kick him in the ass on his way in. She could have been punting a football. Bitch. He's maybe five or six. The clerk has come back with their stuff (finally) and they are poring over their stuff (and props to Crack Parents, they have made sure their kids are getting Christmas). As the clerk disappears to find the next pile of stuff, the sounds of crying come from the bathroom.

"Moooommmaaa.... Moooooommmmmaaaaaa!"

Mama Crack is joking with uncle Crack, and ignores the cries.

"Momma, help meeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!"

"WHAAT?"

"IT'S stuuuuck!"

"AAAAAAAIIIIIIII!!!!!!!"

Now he's really screaming.


AAAAIIIIII!!!! IT's Stuck in my butt! MAMA!!!! THE DOOKIE IS STUCK IN MY BUUUUTT!!!!!

MAAAAAAMMAAAAAAAA...The dookie is stuck in my buuuuuuuuuutttt!


I was trapped for almost my entire bonus hour with the family Crack, and the dookie was stuck in his butt.

But my freaking ping pong table is on The Lay Away. I'm so sending the Honey to pick it up.

This tree does not grow in my backyard.

Money doesn't grow on trees,you know
Originally uploaded by Lifeguardin Gal.

So let me ask you, what would you do for money?

If, say, you had attended the annual Christmas party for the last four years and come away with nothing, while others at your table won fabulous prizes?

What if the uber boss offered a CHANCE at a fabulous prize in exchange for momentary humiliation?

Now suppose you owe your daycare center an obscene amount of money, and have juggled the bills to the point that you got to keep twenty two dollars of your paycheck to last you until NEXT week...

So yeah, I got up and sang solo in front of two hundred or so employees and their spouses.

I'd like to thank my Honey for pushing me, the bartender in the black shirt for mixing some damned fine long island iced teas, and the sweet lord tiny baby jeebus for making sure I did not then choose the envelope containing a twenty dollar subway gift card.

While I could feed my family with the twenty dollar gift card, a week's pay PLUS a fifty dollar American Express giftcard will stretch just a little bit further.

This doesn't really help me this week, as I am sure I'll have to wait at least a week to cash in my certificate, but WOOOOO HOOOOO!

Ask me about the crackheads at Kmart later, because today I am just going to bask in the glow....