No Way Bear Gets Laid

I'm watching Bear Grylls on Discovery and I just wonder how often he gets laid. He's not a bad looking guy but I can't imagine how a guy who pisses on his shirts to wrap around his head, and eats live spiders and lizards manages to convince someone to have sex with him. Right now he just threw his canteen at a cobra while advising viewers to not provoke said cobra. I personally wouldn't want that mouth any where near me and if I saw his penis I would be scared of getting peed on because it seems like he has to involve his pee in every scenario. He's gross like Shrek.

Speaking of Shrek, did you catch Shrek the Halls this week? Luckily, Fidel Tivo'd that for us. We have watched it about 10 times already. It's hilarious. Hopefully that will be on every year or out on DVD or something.

Cow Cock and Cabbage

My Grandmother told her preacher she wanted cow cock and cabbage for dinner. You are probably asking yourself why, so I'll explain in a nutshell. My grandmother is completely senile.

On Sunday morning, I got a call from my stepmother telling me that my beloved Grandfather had just suffered a stroke. My Grandmother's sister was driving by their house, going to church, and saw my Papa laying in the yard with my Ma-ma trying to help him up. She stopped and helped them out because poor Ma-ma doesn't have sense enough to call an ambulance. Long story short, the ambulance came, transported him to a helicopter landing area and the helicopter took Papa to the hospital. I threw some clothes into my weekend bag and headed out for the 4-hour drive on Thanksgiving weekend Sunday. I went straight to my Papa's house and let my Daddy go up to the hospital. I stayed with Ma-ma from Sunday until around 2 pm today.

One thing I love about my family is that they all have a great sense of humor and they are all funny. Obviously, sometimes when they aren't even trying. Southerners have odd relationships with their pastors and if someone in the household is sick, you can be assured that any man who has ever stood behind a pulpit within a 20-mile radius will be on the doorstep near 'bout faster than a fruitcake or a fried chicken. My Ma-ma's preacher made it to their house before the ambulance. He is a pretty young fellow, about 38, and I just don't think my Ma-ma gets it that he is the preacher. I really think she mistakes him for one of my cousins because she responds to him just like she does my cousin, which is normally with some crazy filthy talk since they always have tried to out-embarrass each other. So when the preacher was up there, in his Clemson shirt and jeans, he asked her what she was having for dinner since she has to be pushed to eat. She looked right at him and said, I want some cow cock and cabbage, do you have any of that? That poor guy looked at me and I shrugged my shoulders like, Well, whaddaya do? My cousin was in the room as well and I knew right then that Ma-ma just took the crown for Grand Champion Embarrasser. You just can't top telling a Baptist preacher you want some cow cock and cabbage. And she just didn't stop at once, she said that to him three times. I'm sure the prayers were peppering God that night. I know for a fact that Ma-ma was keeping God on his toes because she said her bedtime prayers about 12 times. Not because she wanted to say that many prayers, but in the 20 minutes that it took her to fall asleep, she forgot that many times. Like good old folks do, my grandparents sleep in the same room but in separate beds so I slept in Papa's bed to keep her company. So believe you me, I am good with God now.

All that extra praying did some good, though. On Tuesday evening, we as a family were resigned to Papa dying where he was because he had become unresponsive. By Wednesday at lunchtime, that tough old rascal had stood up from his bed and was talking to us on the phone. It's not perfectly clear but you can definitely understand him. Looks like he's on the mend. Hopefully Ma-ma won't offer him any cow cock and cabbage when he gets home.

Happy Double Med Day, I Mean Thanksgiving!

I did most of my cooking and drudgery yesterday in preparation for the Turkey Coma today. I wanted to have everything except for turkey and stuffing and gravy done so that I'd have time to watch the parade with my beautiful angels and dear husband. Well the beautiful angels bitched and moaned about anything and everything, and asked me every 23.6 seconds, "Is it time for the parade yet?" until I was forced to the medicine cabinet to drug the devil out of me. I really need to get some booze that works with coffee because honey, there are days that booze with coffee would really help. Like Thanksgiving, and Mondays. I started to pop a Xanax but I didn't want to end up doing the tango around the kitchen with the raw turkey. That wouldn't be the worst or most gross thing I've done under the influence of Xanax, unfortunately.

Anyway, we all survived another Thanksgiving. Tootie even led us in a prayer and we went around the table saying what we were thankful for. The Baptists taught her well. Dinner was delicious, blah blah blah. I got my nap and did my online shopping so I can even sleep in tomorrow since I've blown my budget already. All in all, it was a pretty good day. Hope you all had a great day as well!

Indecent Scarecrow

Tootie brought home another penis picture today. This one is a scarecrow. Either my kid's a perv or I'm a perv. Ok, obviously I'm the perv here because that penis that I'm seeing is really the pole the scarecrow is mounted on. I thought it was pretty funny that I thought the pole was a pecker. I need to get my mind out of the gutter.

I Could Spank Caillou's Little Ass

That Calliou is a rotten little bastard. He gets on my nerves and I thank goodness that he's neither real nor mine because I would be a horrible mother for him. He just woke his napping sister despite his grandmother's repeated pleadings for him to speak softly and I swear my blood pressure rose. I think God knew that I couldn't handle a Calliou so he just made him a little bald 5-year old drawn by some sadistic asshole. I just wish that the folks at PBS had left Calliou in France or wherever he's from, and sent Max from Max and Ruby over to live with him to be tormented or served for dinner, whichever. There's another cartoon needing an attitude adjustment. Ruby is a saint for dealing with that little monster but I have the feeling she's on Baby Bunny Paxil because really, who could deal with him so calmly?

Funny Has Left the Building

Funny has stepped out for the moment, but her cooler friend Shop Around Sue is here to take her place. Don't tell your husbands about Shop Around Sue, she's our secret until the bills come.

From the wonderful world of www.retailmenot.com, here are some fantabulous shopping codes for Dec. 1-3 (roughly, read the details below) at some of my favorite stores: Old Navy, Gap and Banana Republic. How about some 20-30% off, girls? Remember to use ebates for bonus savings, I think it's 3% but that's just from my memory and that's not very reliable.

Old Navy-Friends & Family on line code good from Nov 27-Dec 3---20% off code F8JXXP9RGCNJ

Banana Republic Friends & Family on line code- 30% off Dec 1-3 QLOV5931S3G5

Gap Friends & Family on line code-30% off Nov 30-Dec 3 D1L36GG596NL

Is Gout Hereditary?

My daddy is a hilarious man, because he's crazy. He has restless leg syndrome, which he calls Jimmy Legs, and has a quack doctor that prescribes Vicodin and Valium cocktails for the RLS. I have made fun of Daddy and called him Ozzy Osbourne with his pills, but now I see why the poor guy needs all those fabulous drugs. You see, I too suffer from the gd Jimmy Legs. And the gout. And the crazy. I am slowly turning into my dad as I age. I'm beginning to realize that his doctor isn't as much of a quack as she is a compassionate soul who understands the pure misery inflicted by the Jimmy Legs. I need to go see my quack doctor and see how sympathetic he is to a poor Jimmy Legs sufferer. He will probably just up my dosage of my crazy pills and send me home to suffer in obliviousness.

Online Shopping Tip

No humor here, just some serious shopping tips. I have been doing a ton of online shopping today because I had too much to do around here to actually get dressed and leave for any length of time. I plan to have a stress-free Thanksgiving for the first time in my married life and I'm busting my ass for the weekend and the next 3 days so that I can slip into that blissful turkey coma on Thursday afternoon.

Back to my online shopping tips....

1. Open Ebates account. It's FREE, EASY and you get refunds from so many stores that you actually use. I just ordered some gifts from Sephora and I got free shipping and by using a discount code from www.retailmenot.com, I saved 20 flipping percent. On prestige cosmetics. Tell me how phenomenal that is. I also ordered some gifts from www.target.com and I got 4% back from ebates. Loving it.

2. ALWAYS check out www.retailmenot.com. Even if a code doesn't work or if it's expired, try calling the company's customer service and ask nicely to get the discount. I did that with Land's End today and saved myself nearly $20 and the guy sounded happy to do it for me.

Happy shopping! I know it's fun to go to the mall and actually walk out with your gifts, but if you can get these rebates and use these discount codes it adds up to great savings. I got Leapster cartridges for less than $14 in my Target order this morning, and they have already shipped.

Don't Hate Me Because I'm Bossy

I have a kind of dominating personality and I work really hard at being laid-back, and unbossy in social situations. I was a tiger at work but now that I'm home and medicated I really strive to blend into the background and be less of that in-your-face type of gal, because even I know it's annoying as hell. I don't volunteer to be room mom or committee chairs of any sort. Anyway, I went to our neighborhood fall festival and met up with the Social Committee gals and clicked. I'm pretty crafty and creative and I have a lot of experience in party planning and entertaining groups of people. Of course by the end of that festival the dreaded words just fell out of my big fat mouth. You know, the Oh I'd love to be on the Social Committee, thank you for asking me! The moment the words fell from my lips my hands were in front of me trying to scoop them back in but it was too late. Eyes around me were lighting up and flashing, SUCKER! and there I was, a member of the Social Committee. I went to my first meeting yesterday and Fidel said to me before I left, Remember you volunteered for this, like he was giving me some sort of warning. I was baffled by his comment so I just said, whatever, and headed out to the clubhouse. I came home with a few projects to do. Today, I have to go scope out our entrances and design the Christmas decorations. I also have to find the proper glass ornaments and craft supplies to decorate them for our clubhouse Christmas tree. Like I don't have enough to do to decorate my own home, here I am cheerily volunteering to do the neighborhood stuff. I think my subconscious is driving me to do this to recruit some new drinking buddies. Les is pregnant and doesn't pop in randomly for cocktails any more. I bought her some sparkling cider for our last cocktail party and she called me a bitch for it.

Why Landscapers Don't Run Daycares

I have been goat-roped into babysitting, yet again. This is the last straw for me with the whole babysitting deal. This child was dropped off last night at bedtime and has been with me for the entire day. It's nearly 5 pm and I'll have her until dinner time, most likely. It's apparently of no consequence that I had things planned, like a social committee meeting and planting pansies and removing some monstrous cannas from my front flower beds. All of this while having 3 children, one of which did not exit my uterus, pepper me with questions about anything and everything you can imagine. I did everything short of screaming shut the fuck up and get away from me and still couldn't shake the children. They were like tapeworms, but worse because they never shut their damned mouths. The playroom, which was extremely enticing at 6:30 am, held no interest for the children while I was trying to work. I haven't had my nap, have had the pure shit aggravated out of me while trying to work, and I had to have poor Fidel babysit for me for 2 hours while I met with the other hens about our neighborhood's 2008 social schedule. The icing on the cake was when the neighbor kid came over. The neighbor kid's mom has been saying for weeks, let me help you work in those flower beds, I really want to. Yet when she sees me out there actually working, I learn that her definition of helping is sending me another fucking kid to babysit. He was over here for an hour and a half until I sent him home. No sign of the mom whatsoever. Just that annoying fucking kid bullying the girls and harassing the dogs, and stomping around in my flowerbeds.I hate to be an asshole but goddammit, my weekends are for ME and my family. I haven't even been able to go to the grocery store or to Eddie Bauer to use my 20% coupon that expires tomorrow. I'll be stuck doing that tomorrow instead of napping, so my whole fucking weekend has been shot to hell. Not that I'm bitter or anything.

Update
I must admit that I was just a grouchy bitch yesterday. My extra kid was actually very good but I got woken up early and didn't get a nap. I didn't get a nap last weekend because I was keeping this same kid and when Mama don't get her nap things just aren't good. If I babysit I want the kid picked up by 2 so I can get my weekend nap. I live for weekend naps.

Aquadots for Everyone

It's finally cold here in north Georgia, so I made a fire in our fireplace this afternoon since I didn't have plans to leave the house for the rest of the day. I have 2 children, 1 wiener dog, 2 chihuahuas and 2 cats passed out cold in the family room. You would think I served them all Aquadot soup or something.

Time for a Trim

I'm sitting on the sofa with Moggie, watching Sprout, and she just started rubbing my hair and reciting a poem about Fuzzy Wuzzy. I called yesterday and made an appointment with my stylist for tomorrow, guess I was a little overdue. Don't you love the honesty of kids though? Yesterday while the TV repair guy was here, Tootie informed me that I had stinky breath and the repair guy was snickering. I don't know what he was laughing about because he smelled like a freaking billy goat. I had to open the windows and pull out the Febreze, he was a stinker. Nice guy and he fixed the glaucomavision we had going on but he needs to hit the Right Guard a little harder. I used to work with this guy, a hugger, and he had horses. He actually lived near my boyfriend at the time and since we all worked together and they carpooled, I said to my boyfriend one night, Does Dennis ride or groom those horses before you guys come to work? and my boyfriend was like, No, why? so I told him, well, he always smells like a horse and after he stopped laughing, he told me that Dennis was allergic to deodorant and I was smelling BO. BO and coffee breath do not combine for an attractive smell, let me tell you. It would suck to be allergic to deodorant. I don't like smelling bad. I like smelling like Vera Wang perfume, not farm animals. The bad thing is that you always hear about how bad deodorant is for you, something about aluminum and memory. I can handle not remembering crap, I can't handle being fragrant and sticky in the armpits. Really though, having a crappy memory isn't all bad. I'm pretty good at making lists and writing stuff down to remind myself of important things. I'm also pretty good at forgetting stuff so if someone pisses me off they can just steer clear of me for a week and then I can't remember why I was mad at them and it's all good again.

And the Sun Shone Down

After I dropped Moggie off at preschool, I had to swing by my drive-thru dentist and I was out of there in about 2 minutes. I called my friend CVO to see if she wanted to join me for a 1000-calorie breakfast at Mimi's but she was in the gym or some other such nonsense, which really put me in a predicament because I wanted some fat and conversation. I just kept driving and headed for Hobby Lobby to get me a little fix, and on the way there I noticed a sign in our newest strip mall development that said, "Coming soon: Toys R Us, Babies R Us, Steinmart, Shoe Carnival and Loemanns". Now I had no idea what a Loemanns was but I was so excited about it. I think I heard angels singing from heaven. Lord knows, Mama loves some shopping. I seriously got a little rush, I have a sickness. On to HL I went. I got that warm, fuzzy feeling while steering my rickety little cart through the aisles and even had a few little craft things in my basket. Things were going fine until I looked down and saw Skid Row Santa. He was so beat down that I snapped right out of the retail bliss coma and I put my junk back on the shelf and left. The thought of snapping a picture of him with my camera phone crossed my mind but then I thought I should just cover him with a tree skirt or something because he was a sad sight. Poor guy looked like he took a pickaxe to the forehead, with his head all smashed in. I really should have bought him to curb my shopping adventures but I'm not the sanest person in the world and I have a feeling my conversations with Skid Row Santa would have me committed by Easter. SRS, whadda ya say we head over to Sephora? Come on, I'll let you scare the kids in the play area! Damn buzzkill...

I left Hobby Lobby empty handed and headed for Hardee's. I had a nice country ham biscuit and some OJ, and I'm about to go to Kohls to spend a gift card. I have to be back home by noon because Tootie has early release from school at noon. I'll get her off the bus, head to Moggie's school at 1, and take both of those little monkeys to the salon to get a trim.

Sweet. Baby. Jesus.

This afternoon, Moggie and I came home after preschool and let the dogs outside and got cornered by a neighbor. While I was out there chatting, the TV repair guy called and cancelled on me since I didn't answer the phone, and my Sweet Prince ran into a freaking rosebush and gouged out his one good eye. He lost sight in one eye due to glaucoma and he couldn't have hurt that eye, he had to hurt the one good one. He's 11 so he has some more years left in him and I think he'd prefer to have a little vision, so I called the vet and he came over to put this dye stuff in his eye and found a corneal ulcer and now I have to put this antibiotic ointment in the poor guy's eye 4 times a day. He's my baby so I can deal with that.

Fidel came home and since it was Spirit Night for Tootie's school, we went to this pizza joint that we don't normally frequent. We knew it wasn't going to be fun but we really didn't expect it to be pure fucking hell. We had to wait on the sidewalk in a line to even get into the door. It took about 20 minutes to get in and once we did, it was pure and utter mayhem. I suppose I deserved a horrible night because I was making fun of one of my friends, who is on the PTA at her kids' school because they do Waffle House night. I called her a redneck and laughed at her so I got stuck at the Pizza Hell. From now on I'm just going to say no to spirit night at this joint.

Here's to a better Tuesday.

Why Bother?

You know, from time to time we all go through funks for no apparent reason. Someone close to me is in a funk right now, and since I understand the funk I'm sympathetic and I'm doing what I can to help this person out. However, I am not willing to be a punching bag and that's what I'm getting treated as. I'm speaking metamorphically, not literally. A lot of times you can say the same thing to three different people and have each of them interpret it differently. When you have someone who is overly sensitive and turns everything you say into an insult or a dig, it makes it really, really hard to continue communication. I'm in that Why Bother frame of mind now, because no matter how innocently I say something it gets turned around and I'm the bad guy. One thing about me is you get what you see. If I like you, you know it and if I don't like you, you really know it. I don't try to be mysterious or hard to read, especially with those that I'm close to. I'm one of those friends that you better not ask my opinion unless you really want it because I'm just not the type of person to say what you want to hear, I'll give you my real opinion. At this point I have no idea where I'm going with this. I'm just frustrated because no matter what I do, it's wrong and I'm not graceful enough to walk on eggshells.

Sorry to be such a downer on a Monday morning. Hopefully I'll have some great adventure or funny story to share this afternoon. Our tv repair guy is supposed to come by today to fix our tv which has been broadcasting in glaucomavision. It's a rear-projection tv and the convergence unit is off, which has slightly separated the 3 colors so when you watch tv your eyes feel all bulgy and distorted like you have glaucoma. Maybe I should start smoking maryjane until the tv is fixed.

Cooler than Cool

I have been doing laundry and changing sheets upstairs tonight. Moggie crashed out watching Sprout in bed, and Tootie wanted a snack so she came downstairs with me. The TV landed on TNT somehow and The Wizard of Oz was just starting. Tootie is entranced so we are watching it together. The Munchkin Coroner just declared the Wicked Witch of the East sincerely dead. I'm getting peppered with a gazillion "How comes?" but this is really cool, to sit with my daughter watching a movie I loved as a kid. She looks very sleepy so I don't know how long she will last. The Wicked Witch of the West just popped up so she's a little freaked out now. I should probably put her to bed before those damn flying monkeys appear or else she will be sleeping in my bed tonight.

I'll Take One of Everything

Fidel is in NYC this week and today he emailed me from his Crackberry to tell me he was at the L'Occitane shop and asked me if I wanted anything. I wanted to tell him to bring me one of everything but I wasn't greedy, so I told him I didn't need anything. I really don't need anything because through the beauty that is Ebates I can get cash back and free shipping by ordering online so I just get whatever I need from the online store. I love L'Occitane though. Wasn't it sweet of him to ask if I wanted something? He spoils me rotten. Plus he makes beautiful babies and keeps me fed. I might deserve a little treat for keeping his damn wiener dog for him while he's been gone. She's the cutest dog in the world but she is extremely spoiled. She sits in front of his recliner crying for someone to sit down and cuddle her. She's high maintenance, just like everyone else in this house.

Speaking of dogs and this house, our dogs live in Fidel's office, which is right by the front door off the foyer. It smells so freaking bad. I've washed dogs, bedding, shampooed carpet and it still stinks to Hell. I bought this bag of rocks at Home Depot this morning and threw them in the office, and it already smells way better. These rocks are in a net bag and work for like 6-8 months, then you put them in the sun for 6 hours to "refresh" and they work for another 6-8 months, and then you refresh them in the sun again. They don't smell like anything and you can just hide the bag under some furniture. I'm loving these rocks. I was in the cleaning aisle faced with a wall of products that directed me to vacuum, or blot, or repeat application and so on and when I read unwrap and throw under furniture I was sold. Those are my kind of instructions. Unwrap, walk away and say goodbye to the funk.

JWs Getting Lazy

My friend Stacy called me this morning while I was driving Moggie to preschool to tell me she got solicited by a JW in the Dunkin' Donuts parking lot. She was rushing to get some grub and get to work and here's this lazy ass JW trying to hand her a Watchtower. I would have been like, "Unless that's a donut coupon, keep walking sister". I mean really, that's kind of lazy isn't it? Just hanging out at your car to pass out leaflets as people walk by you to get some food. Kind of like those hunters baiting game and then shooting them at the feed through. L-a-z-y. I would really be nervous to go ringing doorbells but I'm a little paranoid that way. Sometimes you can run across a harmless prankster like me, but you could really run across really dangerous people. Maybe Jehovah sends down a package deal in the Cult Kit, with a taser, pepper spray, and stacks of Watchtowers along with an autographed copy of How to Alienate People and Lose Favor. I wish I could see some statistics on how many folks are actually recruited on the doorbell drives. You know they say they have won the battle even if you are hiding and won't answer the door. They say their presence automatically makes you think of God. Well, that's true. Every time I see them I call out to Jesus, kind of in the way that I call to him when I see an oncoming cop car when I'm speeding. Jesus. Yes, it's blasphemy but at least it keeps Ratfuck from passing my lips and that's what I really want to say.

Now, I'm off to continue my gardening adventures this morning. One of the featured blurbs in the marketing materials for our neighborhood was something like, "Every home professionally landscaped by a master designer", which I'm calling bullshit on since I have some jacked up landscaping. We have these big ugly-ass Cannas in our front bed that just throw everything out of whack because they are so big and out of scale compared to the rest of the landscaping. Cannas are tropical, and while they are pretty in the right setting, our home has a woodland feel about it, with the stones and architectural features. Definitely not tropical, so the Cannas are going to the great garden in the sky. The Japanese Beetles loved chowing down on them so there's another reason for them to go.

Hope you have a great Friday!

My New Drapes

Here are pictures of the much-discussed drapes! I only got 2 crummy pictures before Fidel's camera battery died so this is the best I can do for now. These drapes are for 2 windows, one flanking each side of our family room fireplace. This is the right side, and the left side is reversed so that the long side is on the left.

The next step is painting the room, but that involves painting a coffered ceiling and it can wait because that ceiling will absolutely suck!

Bragging and Gingivitis

You know how I've been bitching and begging any seasonal mythical creature who will listen for a new computer because of the whack-ass lines running down my screen? Well, my angel of a husband came home late from a business dinner last night looking beat down tired and started fiddling around with his computer. Next thing I know, he had swapped out the drives in our identical laptops so now I have the good computer. How sweet is that? I know I'm not normally sappy but I was really touched.

Speaking of touching, I had my semi-annual dental cleaning right before Halloween and I've had freaking gingivitis ever since. I don't normally have this problem but I'm just eat up with swollen painful gums. Maybe she used some dirty floss on me or something. They are probably tired of my teeth being healthy so they are sabotaging my dental health so they can squeeze some money out of my insurance company. Little do they know that there's no way in hell I'll let them do anything beyond cleaning and fillings, and the filling part is even questionable because they don't do sedation. Sedation dentistry is a beautiful thing and it's about the only humane way to work on someone's teeth. Why would anyone suffer through something like a root canal while wide awake? I'm all for a Valium appetizer and some sweet gas or an IV for dental procedures. I'm a freak about dental work so it's in everyone's best interest if I'm in la-la land if I need anything done. Too bad the gyno's office hasn't bought into the whole sedation thing. That whole experience would be much more pleasurable. Valium appetizer, pap smear and a nice dinner afterwards. I should go into business selling these ideas. Don't you always feel like they should at least buy you dinner after you get up into the stirrups?

Saved by Drapery

This afternoon, Donna was over here hanging my drapes that Fidel still doesn't know about. She had just came in and I was going to get a step stool when I heard a crazy thump thump thump wheeeeeaaahhhhhhhh sound and Donna's eyes were as big as dinner plates. Turns out the crazy noise was my poor Moggie taking the quick way down the stairs, ass over teakettle, forehead first into the hardwood floor. She had tripped over her long nightgown and she slid down an entire flight of wooden stairs. Donna was closer to her and she ran to grab her and passed her to me, and when I saw the huge goose egg on her forehead I seriously nearly fainted. Not just overusing the nearly fainted phrase, I seriously was on my way to fainting until good ol' Jersey girl Donna yelled at me and brought me back to my senses. She totally saved the day because I am SO not good at seeing my children injured. Common sense just flies out the window and I'm left looking like a hysterical idiot. I probably would have called 911 when I came to if I had been here alone. I look at it this way, the drapes led to Donna being here, which for sure saved us more money than I spent on the drapes. I don't imagine ambulance rides are cheap.

The drapes look wonderful, Moggie is fine except for a big purple bruise, and now I just need to work on my "Ta-Daaa" and Vanna White pose for when Fidel gets home from a business dinner here shortly. Pray for me.

Our Idiot Box is Dying

Fidel and I have a elderly rear-projection tv in our family room and it's dying a slow death. We spent the weekend debating about getting a new tv, but the problem with that is that they don't make the big tvs on stands any more, and we have a surround that's suited for only that kind of tv. If we went with a new tv, that means getting a new entertainment center and that quickly adds up to $5k. I have found a repairman in the area who gets a ton of rave reviews on a referral site, but there's always the few oddballs who have completely different reviews. For every 50 wonderful reviews, there's one guy saying the repairman abducted their television and hasn't returned it in 6 years or something. The funny thing about the internet is the anonymity afforded sometimes brings out the worst in people. I can't say that it doesn't bring out the worst in me because I have been guilty of being an asshole a time or two but that's not my general personality. I notice that a few of my favorite bloggers don't have open commenting, they have to approve each comment before they will post. For now my comment section is open, and I like to think that I can handle whatever ends up in my comments. So far the worst thing is the weirdo correcting my grammar but that made him look way worse than me, especially since I stated that my blog wasn't a monument to grammar.

If you blog, what's the strangest comment story you have to share?

Things I Don't Cover Here

I love watching the StatCounter Recent Keyword Activity report on this site. If Google is keeping notes on internet users, some of these people have to have "Freak" on their file labels. Here's a sampling of the searches that landed people on my site:

• Fidel Back Spider Learn to spell, it's fiddle
• i think i'm drunk Me too, sister, me too
• deviant housewife Guilty!
• Pumpkin Carving Cock Um, you can draw that, you don't really need a pattern for that do you?
• live lice free Christ, the crap I'm associated with

I am thinking about embracing that whole Deviant Housewife thing. I can see a whole line of t-shirts with titles like, "Don't Ask Me For Things When I'm Drunk" and the always appropriate, "NOT Your Babysitter". I can share my tried and true tips on avoiding housework, not cooking and excuses for not having sex.

Look Before You Follow

I had to go to the mall this morning to pay my Victoria's Secret bill, and the street around the mall was just in a terrible mess, covered in traffic cones. I had to zip through a couple of store lots to get to the mall entrance I wanted to use. When I was ready to leave, there was one car in front of me exiting the parking lot. I saw a ton of traffic cones in front of that car and I started to turn around and use another exit, but then that car turned right and I followed. I wish I had paid attention to the driver before I decided to follow them. It was a tiny little old lady who had to be sitting on a stack of phone books, and this woman was just plowing through traffic cones like crazy. She was clearing a path for me which was good for me, but then this chubby guy in an orange vest is running behind us trying to get us to stop. I could see the street I needed to turn on just ahead and granny was showing no signs of stopping so we just kept on course until she finished running over cones.

Barking Spiders

Have you ever heard of barking spiders? I haven't but now that I've heard the phrase and figured out what it means, I'm going to say this all the time. Fidel says it's when a lady farts, she blames it on a barking spider. Just hilarious! I like to fart and I like to be funny, so that phrase is an all-around winner for me. Woof woof!

My cocktail party was a lot of fun. I got a little too intoxicated but by the grace of God I'm not hung over in the least. I don't know if I've finally gotten good at drinking or if my good luck is due to all the water I drank yesterday, but either way I'm feeling way better than I should be feeling. I think I'm going to quit drinking while I'm on top though. I enjoy drinking and I have alcoholics in my branch of the family tree and I don't want to become one. Plus, I am fat as a tick and have gotten too fluffy for my fat britches so I'll be back in WW this week. Oh, joy.

Back to my drinking too much last night, I place the blame for that on this delicious cheese that I bought at Costco. It's by Cabot and it's a 3-year old cheddar, very crumbly and just heavenly. It screams for cabernet and last night I was obeying the cheese. I bought a Kirkland's Cabernet (yes, the Costco store brand) and I was embarrassed to even have it out but it was very good! My wine snob friend, CVO, even approved.

Oh the Shame

I hit the liquor store this morning for some cheap vodka after I dropped Moggie off at the Baptist church for preschool. I messed around too much this morning and didn't get makeup done so I did end up looking like I just rolled out of bed to get a cocktail. I was the only customer at the store, too. I started to ask them where the vodka was so that I didn't look like I was a regular but I realized that no one gives a shit so I didn't pretend that I was unfamiliar with their layout.

After I paid for my crap I left and took the interstate route home, and had to stop in front of the local adult business shop while waiting to enter the on-ramp. You would be surprised at how many perverts are at a porno shop at 9:30 in the morning. I won't even lie, I felt superior to them with my gallon of Svedka rolling around the back of my minivan. I sat there with my clinking bottles thinking, "Well at least I'm not a pervert". I order my stuff online. This porno shop just looks trashy with it's hand drawn logo. My friend Chrissy has absolutely NO shame and she will go there. She says that people scream "whore" at her from the street! Crazy times!

Stupid Pumpkin

The Great Pumpkin was a bust. Maybe I was stood up because I didn't view the obligatory network airing of the GP, nor did I watch the DVD of it that we own. Or maybe it's because the Great Pumpkin is a big orange turd and can't be bothered to bring a little laptop to the woman who worked tirelessly all month to bring Halloween joy to some kids, JWs be damned. Either way, I'm here on this broke-ass laptop with multicolored vertical lines running down the screen. Looks like Santa is going to be getting lucky because I really, really need a new computer. How else can I bring joy to the ten of you reading me every day?

To soothe my wounds of neglect, I bought myself a pretty apron I've been lusting for. I had PayPal balance and last night I made apple dumplings, from scratch, and wore flour to trick or treat. Of course the flour was the final accessory to my Tipsy Housewife costume that I rocked, if I do say so myself. Perhaps I had so much flour down the front of me because I was sifting while drinking, but if I had a beautiful apron then I wouldn't have been covered in flour. If I didn't have two prima donna girls I wouldn't have been drunk at 6 pm but if a frog had wings he wouldn't bump his ass, yada yada yada. Oh get this. I slammed my drink so we could go out to beg for candy, because I didn't think it would be appropriate to walk around with booze. Boy was I wrong! Apparently it's A-ok to do that in this neighborhood because I saw moms with glasses of wine, no shame. I swear I will shed these crazy Baptist ideas one day, and my tipsy housewife costume will include a wine glass.