Let's Get Milk-Faced

2004-02-16T22:04:00.000-05:00

Check out the subject of this email I received from Tyson Dickey:

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The text is even more ridiculous. I have HTML turned off in my email client, so this will be the first time I see this message the way it was "intended":

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t=20 enfant saratoga precarious cornelia imponderable underling codeposit =
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nt gnp blueback carbonyl bessie stupefaction kirby=20 decomposable lose st=
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rnery magnuson docket tune dilute galt browne kidde albatross puritanic in=
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ve dovetail london caraway holden talisman shallow glare koenig tripoli=20=
category contact drugstore abacus pixy dickey teheran slight aviate panop=
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tchfork fictive fife continent pronounce king immerse aldrich belfry autob=
iography casket album ashame glean nib sapsucker corundum gretchen confron=
t hollow parvenu bel barrett cindy=20
efficacious quito rotogravure cancelled path claire sharecrop lagrange la=
bel hollingsworth aesthete pursuant alkaloid mullion smokestack modesty by=
pass allan curl bingham collapsible cutoff asleep idiosyncratic birch airf=
rame breastplate absinthe bypath dissuade bruce chorine quart dextrous gad=
fly vasquez practitioner croydon=20 coffer neutrino goblet camino crisscro=
ss contend plaguey greensboro shutoff stabile creamy recruit constituent v=
oice inhabitant officious cancerous omnibus shipman ares leapt hygroscopic=
vi connie picasso cutler scarsdale silverman detain=20 casteth dreadful l=
egendre curt arizona colander optimistic paulus roadhouse propose=20 galla=
ntry node barth muriatic weyerhauser archipelago botulism champion concert=
i tao bethel antigone carnival jew bakelite occurrent annapolis prevent kw=
ashiorkor scary suburb keep parsley delaware buttonweed spooky tam cannist=
er nagasaki depository jason chastity infight helmsman breadth barr=20 pla=
smon said lomb despise decompress lockian baudelaire eduardo dwell nabisco=
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onary abscissa evolutionary circumvent wayne keyboard persecutory blond ps=
ychobiology=20

oh, for the love of God.... WHY did they have to use light cyan, of ALL the freaking colors in the world.... asses.

2004-02-04T14:18:00.000-05:00

Daddy, why does that f--- politician hate women's breasts? Because he's a s-- and a hypocrite, honey

Mark Morford always seems to say what I'm thinking....

2004-01-07T20:13:00.000-05:00

Retirement Complex for Gays to Open

This is just so fucking great. I never ever thought of the fact that many of our elderly brothers and sisters don't have any children to take care of them. This is the best idea ever! It's shit like this that makes me proud to be an American, or something.

2004-01-06T17:44:00.000-05:00

The Spamperor's New Clothes

Apparently some of the spammers got a strange new bot that inexplicably uses dictionary words to generate their "names". Here are some luscious gems culled from my husband's inbox:

Headlining F. Herman
Dud M. Transylvania
Underwrite Q. Guarantees
Songster S. Composts
Consort U. Wicker
Vixenish U. Overlays
Xerography K. Marketplaces
Boltzmann I. Wayward
Transported D. Attempt
Slow P. Photocopy
Irrelevancy R. Stirs
Communions A. Appointee
McFadden I. Retrogressive
Chomped S. Delaney
Franking C. Colonizer
Tonnage V. Stubbier
Weathering E. Liquidizing
Waterfowl R. Adoration
Dogtrots Q. Indorse

Believe me. I couldn't make these up if I wanted to.

2003-12-13T00:21:00.000-05:00

I just have to say...... hee!

2003-12-04T22:28:00.000-05:00

Zevon, Harrison, Cashes Among Dead Grammy Nominees

When I first read that headline, I seriously thought the Dead Grammies was a new awards show. Can you blame me?

And judging from this year's crop of living Grammy nominees, the Dead Grammies would probably be more exciting to watch. A little Marvin Gaye, anyone?

Edited to add: Fountains of Wayne? BEST NEW ARTIST? That's funny, considering the album I have in my hand came out in, uhh, 1996...

And also: Miss Independent for Best Female Pop Vocal Performance? Have the Grammy people never HEARD that song?? It's worse than whale shrieking.

And also: Randy Newman *snigger*

Michelle Branch is a Rock Vocal Performance? Anyone ever heard of Joan Jett?? Or Sleater Kinney?

Did Luther Vandross ever wake up from that coma? Or is he up for a Dead Grammy as well?

won't somebody testify, kick a hole right in the sky

My head hurts.

2003-12-04T00:06:00.000-05:00

You must check out LawForKids.org. They have such a good message! Here's what I get out of this comic:

M.P. is a cool Puerto Rican. Or maybe he's Mexican, it's hard to tell without looking in his drawz. Anyway. Mikeee is a faggy little weenis boy who tricks M.P. into showing him the bag. Five years later, Mikeee looks like Clay Aiken pounding a pointer on a pie chart, and M.P. has a really cool goatee.

Fin.

2003-11-18T00:46:00.000-05:00

Have you seen those commercials for Focus Factor? ("They let ya try it for FREE? It must be GOOD!") It's basically, like, herbal ritalin, or claims to be. Anyway. I am appalled by the hideous ugliness of the dude in the ads - I guess he's the spokesman, or the president of the company, or the head ass monkey, or something. He has the biggest jowls and the worst mini-mullet I've ever seen on a non-Ohesian:

I rest my case.

2003-11-12T00:10:00.000-05:00

The other day, a guy at my husband's job got pissed off at a co-worker and threw away all of the magazines he had left lying around. One of them happened to belong to my husband (to ME, actually, but that's another column for another day), so he grabbed it out of the trash. He also grabbed a Playboy that was in there, because hey, free Playboy!

So inside, we found some stupid story, in which there were a lot of references to a woman's anus. But they didn't say "anus", of course; it was "bung" this and "dirt hole" that.

1. Who in the fuck would ever say "Oh baby, finger my dirt hole"?

2. "Ass" sounds a lot hotter

3. If my back door is my "dirt hole", is the front one my "fish hole"? My "baby hole"? My "rag bag"?

I issue my readership a challenge. Let's think of more stupid euphemisms for bodily orifices!

2003-11-11T22:15:00.000-05:00

TheWordIsSoda: hello
sweet201x: hello
TheWordIsSoda: allow me to introduce myself
TheWordIsSoda: my name is timmy and i just saw you on OUC
TheWordIsSoda: now i notice that your profile says that you read non fiction
sweet201x: yes, timmy, that is correct
TheWordIsSoda: does that mean poetry?
sweet201x: hmmm...... i think poetry is considered literature.
TheWordIsSoda: true but some poetry is autobiographocal so i would consider it non fiction
TheWordIsSoda: what do you think?>
sweet201x: perhaps; although by nonfiction i meant more academic writings
TheWordIsSoda: very good
sweet201x: indeed.
sweet201x: hello?
TheWordIsSoda: hi
sweet201x: hi
sweet201x: did you want to talk about anything else?
TheWordIsSoda: not really
sweet201x: umm, okay. thanks for soliciting my opinion about the literary categorization of poetry, though.

2003-11-04T22:47:00.000-05:00

Is it wrong that I think this site is totally hott? Boys in kilts are luscious.

2003-11-03T19:46:00.000-05:00

Oy vey. Who invited Maxi??

2003-10-21T18:50:00.000-04:00

DerekVegas: may I ask where you are?
sweet201x: ohio
DerekVegas: cool
DerekVegas: well
DerekVegas: honestly
DerekVegas: not cool
DerekVegas: haha
DerekVegas: but you know
sweet201x: sure
DerekVegas: are you in Chicago?
sweet201x: are you joking? lol
DerekVegas: I am just not a fan of Ohio at all
DerekVegas: though Cincinnati was kinda cool
sweet201x: look up, i think you made a typo
DerekVegas: one too many n's?
sweet201x: up higher

............................................................................

sweet201x: why are you not a fan of ohio? what did ohio ever do to you?
DerekVegas: made me drive through it 4 times
DerekVegas: it is flat and there is nothing
sweet201x: don't hate us because we're big and open
sweet201x: ha, ever been to wyoming?
DerekVegas: yes
DerekVegas: now I liked wyoming a lot
sweet201x: lol
DerekVegas: wait are the badlands in wyoming?
sweet201x: i think they're in chicago

2003-10-21T16:52:00.000-04:00

It's so difficult not to be a misanthrope these days.

I have been posting off and on at a "Bargain Hunting Tips For Parents" message board located at a popular baby/parenting website. I will not list it here, but it is fairly easy to find if you care to. Now, some of the other boards on this site are known for their contentious members, but you would think that a community whose main topics include "great sale at Gap today" would have little chance of becoming so volatile.

In the past few months, I have seen posts bashing: Poor people. Rich people. Stay at home moms. Working moms. Public schooling. Home schooling. People who don't understand eBay. People who buy diapers on eBay. Doll collectors. People who ask to borrow things. People who lend things out and then expect them to be returned. People who "just go out and buy whatever they want". People who "will only buy something if it's on sale". Professional photographers who don't want their work illegally copied. Wal-mart, because their pictures don't look nice even though they are cheap. The Picture People, because their pictures are too expensive, even though they look very nice. Domestic cars. Foreign cars. People with white-collar jobs. People with blue-collar jobs. People with children. (WTF?!) People without children. People with MANY children. People with only one child. And on, and on, and on.

You know, I REALLLLLY want those coupon codes, but checking this damn message board is sort of making me want to kick people in the head. And reminding me that 99% of women are total stupid fucking bitches 99% of the time. For a split second, I considered checking out a dad message board, until I remembered that 99% of men are assholes 99% of the time. Which begs, then, a question:

Why not genocide?

2003-10-20T22:04:00.000-04:00

These are two of the funniest websites I have ever visited. I've been reading them all day:

Computer Stupidities

Things People Said

*sigh* people, people, people.....

2003-10-13T03:15:00.000-04:00

Now open: The Let's Get Milk-Faced online store. New products added often! Faster, Pussycat! Buy! Buy!

2003-10-02T01:56:00.000-04:00

What, you're too busy to bother leaving a comment? You have made Morrissey very, very angry.

2003-10-01T20:54:00.000-04:00

Kemp's All Natural Vanilla Ice Cream is so yummily delicious. It has this really light, pure taste and texture - a lot like frozen custard (aka "soft-serve"), but with those delightful little vanilla-bean fragments in it. I cannot believe that I had never even heard of it before last Sunday. God damn stupid Ohio and its icky Toft's monopoly.

And while we're plugging product, the brand new Fire Theft album rocks So. Much. Fucking. Ass. So you should totally buy it. Although I'm generally opposed to the Evil Amazon Empire, which gobbled up ALL of my favorite (read: CHEAPER) music store sites, it's 49 cents cheaper there than it is at barnesandnoble.com, and walmart.com (my new favorite place to buy music) doesn't have it. Will, Nate and Jeremy all deserve your hard earned money, so don't ask me to burn it for you either. Because that would be stealing.

2003-10-01T16:32:00.000-04:00

Truly the fates smile upon me today.

Yesterday I cursed myself for deleting this GREAT penis enlargement ad from my email without saving the accompanying picture. I nearly cried with glee this morning when I found it in my inbox, again!

And that, Don Labia, is what is so great about penis enlargement spam.

P.S. With hips like that, Michael would need to be hung like an eggplant to satisfy Jennifer.

2003-10-01T01:01:00.000-04:00

Every time I check my email, it seems like I'm accosted by the same two god damned banner ads. And because I want you all to share in my ~~pain~~ joy, I present them here, with a few minor modifications.

Yes, that truly is an ad for Match.com. I disabled the "go" button, but look, I linked you anyway. See what a nice girl I am? That blue space on the bottom was filled with a bunch of drop-down menus before, but I think my version is much better. And doesn't that guy look like his name is Chet? Because that's what you'd call it if Scott Wolf and Jay Leno had a turd baby.

WOO! Women have Vigel!! I assume that's Vye-Jel, though it looks like "vigg-ul" to this native English speaker. First of all, if that chick's face was any more flat, it'd be Debra Messing's chest. Secondly, why are they using a sexually attractive young woman in this ad, anyway? Wouldn't that make more sense in an ad targeted to men, a la "Get this hot girl NOW!"? Or are we supposed to believe that either [A] 22 year old chicks need this stuff or [B] you will FEEL like a 22 year old chick while using it? I scoff at this logic. Most women my age (according to the media, whom I wholeheartedly believe 100% of the time) actually have negative feelings toward advertising that uses "prettier than you, therefore better than you" girls to sell shit. Maybe that's why this ad intrigues me so much, though I like to think it's just my background in semiotics that fuels me. Anyway... I admit it. I had to see *what* exactly this Vigel was, so I clicked. I believe the URL it took me to was FemaleAdvantage.com, and it turns out that Vigel is a topical gel (why am I not surprised?) whose main ingredient appears to be.... PEPPERMINT. Though I can see why this might sound like a good idea (think IcyHot), there is no way in HELL I will ever be putting peppermint on my nether regions (think IcyHot in your eye.)

2003-09-30T17:06:00.000-04:00

Date: Sat, 27 Sep 2003 10:47:02 GMT
From: $FIRSTNAME $LASTNAME [bluestellbo@aol.com]
[ Add to Address Book | Block Address | Report as Spam ]
To: [tinabean@herveryownlittleemailaddy.hee]
Subject: $RANDOMIZE

I like how the spammers aren't even *trying* to make their emails look legit anymore. Or maybe they just don't have the time to learn to program. Idiots. And yes, apparently bluestellbo@aol.com is a Career Mass Emailer. Tell all your friends!!

P.S. It wasn't even one of those good "Penis Enlargement" ads. Just a stupid weight loss thing. :(

2003-09-28T22:15:00.000-04:00

This evening, Mr. TinaBean and I picked up an assload of Campbell's Soup At Hand at our friendly local supermarket. This stuff is our new food obsession, and let me tell you, I could not feel more pathetic because of this. Why, you may ask?

Let's begin by explaining just exactly what this stuff is. Soup At Hand is the name the marketing geniuses at Campbell's decided to bestow upon its new microwavable, juice-glass-sized cup of ready-to-eat "soup". Note that "soup" is in quotation marks because, like most of Campbell's ready-to-eat soups (the kind you don't have to add water or milk to), this stuff is thicker than gravy. Even the brothy, non-cream varieties. You don't have to mix it up. You don't have to pour it in a bowl. You don't even have to STIR this stuff, really. Just heat.... and eat.

The advertising campaign for Soup At Hand appears to be geared to the soccer-mom type - in the commercials, we see sensibly-dressed thirtysomething women chugging this swill as they herd their broods into Ford Windstars. However, I have a sneaking suspicion that the majority of us who are purchasing this stuff are not "Always on the go" with "No time to eat right", as the website proclaims. ("No time to eat right?" Are they saying this stuff's not GOOD for me? Unbelievable!) Most likely, it is me and a bunch of 300-pound Usenet slobs who are too lazy to even use a fucking can opener or wash a bowl. (No offense, ScullyLicker355.) (Also, for the record, I feel that I must add that I am a svelte 130 pounds at the time of this writing. And no, I am NOT four foot six, thank you very much.) For this reason, a better name might be "Lazy Ass Lunch". Oooh! Or "Campbell's Gravy Chug!"

So anyway. This is what you do with Campbell's Soup At Hand: Shake. Pop top. Nuke. Cap. DRINK. No more flatware calisthenics for me! From now on, I'll just imbibe my gravy with a straw.

*Note: If you'd like to achieve this ultimate level of laziness as well, here's a quick shopping guide!

I like: Chicken and Stars, Creamy Chicken, Chicken With Mini-Noodles (see a trend?)

Mr. TinaBean likes: Creamy Tomato, Velvety Potato, New England Clam Chowdah

Eh: Classic Tomato

Tastes Like Burning: Mexican Style Fiesta. Actually, it tastes like drinking Spaghettios. So Gwen might like it, I suppose.

2003-09-21T01:52:00.000-04:00

Aaaaaaaand we're back.

So here's a great little anecdote: Tonight I found a 7" Death Cab import on the clearance rack! at Hot Topic. That's like gold, people. Anyway. When we walked into Waldenbooks, it set off the alarm. The chick behind the counter didn't even flinch, as she was apparently trying to add 2 and 2 in the nightly ledger at the back counter. John was like, "Hey, 'scuse me... I think my record set the alarm off."

Chick: "Oh, it's okay."
John: "Well, could you demagnetize it? I don't want it to do that in every store I go into."
Chick: *blank look*
Chick: "Uhhhhhhmmmm..... I....... *points to little security thing* it's that thing right there... you can just take it off."
John: "I was hoping you could just swipe it across the thing..."
Chick: "Well, see, the thing is, I DON'T WANT IT TO ERASE THE RECORD."

What. The. Fuck. Just........... Jesus. I didn't even know they CAME that stupid.

2003-07-21T21:17:00.000-04:00

Milk-Faced is on hiatus. Click on the links to your left for some fine mid-season replacements.

2003-06-16T20:08:00.000-04:00

I am so fucking hot and sick.

I usually try not to post my sad-sack rants or reveal the true depths of my instability here. But man, do I feel like shit. My kid is screaming in his bedroom but it's time to go to bed, god dammit. I am completely intolerant to heat anyway, but when I'm pregnant and puking things are about six times worse. My weight has dipped below 140 for the first time in over a year. Usually I'd be thrilled about this, especially considering that mid-April saw me heading for 160 at lightning speed. Unfortunately, I'm trying really hard to keep another human being alive in there. I still look fat, too, except for the fact that my hip area is concave compared to the rest of me. Supposedly you lose weight there last of all (anorexics keep starving themselves due to the "big hips", and when the last of the fat melts from the area, they die), but I seem to lose weight in this order: hips, ass, face (all at once), then back and thighs, then arms, then boobs, THEN tummy. So of course my new doctor wasn't going to be concerned. He was just like, this should be over in a few weeks. I HAVE PROBABLY KEPT DOWN NO MORE THAN 32 OUNCES OF FOOD IN THE PAST TWELVE WEEKS. Is anyone concerned about this? My dad whined balls yesterday because I didn't come see him on Father's Day. It didn't matter that I spent the day with my head alternately in the toilet and on a pillow. No no. NOBODY APPRECIATED HIM ON FATHER'S DAY. Waaaah waaaaah. You can tell from this that he's certainly the kind of guy who DESERVES appreciation, right? I'm just so sick of people. It's such a load that people "care" for me. They don't. They don't! With the exception of my husband (and my in-laws, who don't really give a shit one way or the other, but are kind to me for their son's sake, and so they can see their grandkids, and probably so they won't go to hell when they die), there is no one in my real, tangible, day to day life who really gives a shit about me. It's all about what I can DO for them. My mom can't watch my kid for two hours in a real emergency situation, but I'm supposed to drop everything to babysit my brother (who, if he was parented correctly in the first place, wouldn't need a babysitter at 14) when she suddenly HAS to go help one of her biker friends. My dad doesn't want to call or visit me, but he gets all bitchy when *I* don't call or visit him. Hell, even my own toddler only hugs me so he can take the cookie from my hand. Which is okay cause I'd probably just puke it up anyway if I ate it.

i've been spending at least 6 hours of every day caring for a very small, needy, careless, hapless person when it's a serious effort for me to get out of my bed, or get across a room. I need a mommy of my own. I need someone to make me some damn food when I know that I need some, but if I get out of bed I'm going to ralph all over the place before I pass out facedown on the stovetop. I also need a fucking baby gate that's not from the 1980's, or a lot of money so I can carpet the stairs so it doesn't hurt so badly when Tristan falls down them. (A lot of money because in order to carpet the stairs, we have to carpet the upstairs of our house, too. Right now it's all plywood, particle board and poorly pounded nails.) It would also be nice if we could turn on the damn central air, but it's only in half of the house, so we have to wait until we put the window a/c in the front, which we did not do this weekend. And a babysitter. A reliable one who isn't a fucking redneck piece of shit or a kid-hitter or a lets-their-kid-hit-other-kids-er. So that I can fucking get better.

2003-06-09T13:21:00.000-04:00

Three States Battling Monkeypox Outbreak

MADISON, Wis. - A virus similar to smallpox apparently jumped from pet prairie dogs to at least four people — possibly dozens — in the disease's first appearance in the Western Hemisphere.

The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (news - web sites) said Saturday the prairie dogs likely were infected with the virus by a giant Gambian rat, which is indigenous to Africa, at a Chicago-area pet distributor.

The prairie dogs were sold by a Milwaukee animal distributor in May to two pet shops in the Milwaukee area and during a pet "swap meet" in northern Wisconsin, the CDC said.

Waaah, waaah, waaah.... I think it goes without saying that anyone who buys a PET PRAIRIE DOG at a SWAP MEET deserves anything Darwinism can throw at him, Social or otherwise.

2003-06-05T21:18:00.000-04:00

Tortlex 2 update: THEY HAVE MR. BEAN'S TEDDY. I have one of these, and it is GOLDEN. Get 'em before they're gone, people... only $16!!!

For the gifters: I do NOT have the keychain version. And I do collect keychains. Ask anyone.

2003-06-05T21:14:00.000-04:00

P.S. As a die-hard hater of technological advances like new operating systems (I'll use Windows ME till the day I die, thank you very much, and I'd probably still insist on 3.1 if it wasn't for my mom forcing us to upgrade back in '95) and photo printers that you just pop a SmartMedia card into (Jesus Christ, people, is it that fucking hard to upload the pictures to your hard drive? [Parenthesis inside a parenthesis - Apparently, it IS: there are THREE people in my husband's family, all under the age of thirty, who have thousands of pictures on their cameras and have yet to figure out how to upload them, YEARS later. Fuck it, I'm not their babysitter.])

Now what was I saying? Oh yes. This new blogger interface sucks and can blow me. What was wrong with the old one? There weren't enough pictures for the tards who shouldn't be using computers anyway? Fuck them.

2003-06-05T21:09:00.000-04:00

Visit my pregnancy blog for (not very) detailed descriptions of my bowel behavior and ER visit.

In other news: Girls, for all your very-cute-stuff needs, I bring you Tortlex2. It has the weirdest name, but the coolest Sanrio, San-X, Disney, Spirited Away (Louis, I'm looking in your direction... oh wait, I said girls, didn't I.), Sesame Street, CardCaptors, Paul Frank.... yadda yadda, if you like it, they have it. Go shop!! (But before you buy anything for our little soon-to-be birthday girl Gwen, make sure you consult me first. That is all.)

And if you don't buy me the plush Pucca that I want so badly there, please know that if I do not acquire this DENIM HELLO KITTY WITH THE GINGHAM OUTFIT, I *will* fucking die. No, for real. August 15, baby - start your birthday shopping now. ;)

2003-05-29T01:07:00.000-04:00

Also: Does anyone have a verdict on split pea soup? I seem to remember liking the stuff an awful lot as a small child, prior to my 15-year pea aversion. Is it any good? Anyone?

2003-05-29T01:03:00.000-04:00

I prettied up the comments! If you dig 'em, show me some love, fool.

2003-05-28T20:48:00.000-04:00

In completely non-related news: Here is a picture of Clay Aiken with red hair and glasses.

The fact that this picture gets me hott only confirms what I've suspected for years: I'm a gay man trapped in a woman's body.

2003-05-28T20:20:00.000-04:00

I <3 Money

I have to admit that in these times of buy-now-pay-later instant gratification, George Bush the Younger definitely has the right idea. I mean, who doesn't love the idea of a blithering idiot who's putting money in your pocket right away? So what if Grandma has to take on a night shift at the Piggly Wiggly 'cause she can't afford her Celebrex. I'm getting $400 in the mail this August!! And did you check out the new tax withholding tables? Man, the upper-middle class gets fucking SLAMMED compared to the middle-middles, don't they? I never really realized how much income tax we (they) pay. It looks like John's 60-hour work weeks this summer aren't going to be so beneficial after all. Fukkers.

2003-05-27T20:58:00.000-04:00

I am so fucked.

2003-05-23T17:26:00.000-04:00

Ha ha, Steve-O. You dumbass.

In related news: SARS came from a Chinese weasel-cat. Or possibly from space. You decide.

2003-05-21T22:21:00.000-04:00

I will now purge my soul of the embarassment I should feel after watching the *two-hour* finale of American Idol, but do not.

Ruben (the fat black guy) so deserved to win. He really is an amazing singer, like, Aaron Neville style or something. Barry White. Marvin Gaye! That doesn't mean, though, that I don't want to see Clay Aiken yanking it on a gay porn website - which, thankfully, is far more likely to happen now that he's lost the competition. Man, is that boy ever cute, in an injured-baby-bird sort of way. You know what a sucker I am for closeted homosexuals, and Clay has it all - tall, skinny, pointy hair, and - MOTHER OF GOD - freckles. If it wasn't for that wonky eye, he'd be the new Jesus. Oh, who am I kidding... even WITH the skanky eye, as long as he washes all the fecal matter off the peen first, I'll fellate him until the world explodes. Oh, right, we're NOT talking about my sexual fantasies here. Riiiiight.

Now. I did not follow this season of American Idol by any means. I am morally opposed to anything that everyone else in Rural Ohio loves so much. I happily ignored the whole thing last year. But three weeks ago, I was laid up in bed with the morning sickness when the only channels that would come in on my non-cable-equipped bedroom television ($9.95 a month for an extra receiver? So I can watch South Park on a 13 inch TV? BLOW me, Adelphia) were FOX and that religious show with the pink haired lady. I was completely mesmerized by the fact that a pasty, lazy-eyed closet case had made it into the "final four" (okay, so the only part that shocked me was the lazy eye - we all remember 'Nsync). Of course, I was twice as shocked to see that one of the other finalists was the hulking heart attack of a homie that I'd laughed at months before as I channel-surfed past a preliminary round of American Idol. "HAHAHA," I said, "LOOK AT THE POOR FAT GUY. HE'S GOING TO GET VOTED OFF BECAUSE AMERICA HATES FAT PEOPLE!" (Or at least, Gwen does. No, really.) So anyway. I realized at that point that I SHOULD have been watching American Idol all this time, as it contains elements of all there is to love, including:
* making fun of everyone!
* high-school show-choir style singing!
* homosexuals!
* commercials for Taco Bell!
And now, to continue in the bulleted-list vein, here are some things that bothered me about American Idol:
* his name sounds like Ruben STUTTERED! HAHAHAHAHA
* Ruben (Stuttered) reminds me of this oil lamp my gramma used to have hanging in the living room. It had a statue of a Grecian Goddess in the middle, and when you filled the lamp with oil, it poured in beady droplets down these plastic wires all around the lamp. This guy is sweating GALLONS just fucking standing there, and it's ten times worse when they make him wear long sleeves. Anyone wanna wager on how long till his heart gives out? I give it a week tops.
* I don't care what anyone says, that fucking black chick couldn't sing.
* However, that other black chick who was on tonight, but apparently got voted off at some point before I started watching, COULD sing.
* Why did Ruben have to sing "Flying Without Wings" THREE times tonight?! For the love of mother mercy.
* And who the hell is doing these arrangements? Since when is "Bridge Over Troubled Water" performed by the Church of Merry Twinkling Elves?
* Gay Gayken sang "Hello" by Lionel Richie!! I have loved that song ever since I saw the video where he gets the blind chick to touch his Johnson by telling her it's a Ball Park Frank. Then they both dance on the ceiling.

I can assure you that I will NOT be making the same mistake with the upcoming "American Juniors" (which seems to me like it would have been more properly entitled "Junior Idol", but I suspect that's neither here nor there.) I want to see that haggard little wench singing "CAUSE I'M YOUUURRRR LAYYYYYYDAYYYYYYYYY" get a record contract. She'll be the next Raven-Symone.

P.S. I feel I was very fortunate to start watching when I did, as it made the Saturday Night Live parody seem fucking hilarious.

2003-05-19T21:20:00.000-04:00

So I skipped 7th Heaven to blog, and here is it 8:58 and I haven't written a thing. Well, except for the thing about Braid sucking. I got distracted because my Yahoo search for Braid led me to this awesome site that sells wigs, extensions and hairpieces. *purrrr* For those not in the know, I am a SUCKER for fake hair. Not that shit they sell at Claire's that is like, purple and floursecent yellow, but fake hair that looks like real hair. I own a lot of it. 'S purdy. So anyways.

My best girlfriend Jen is moving back from England!! She's the very, very bestest, and she's going to be here in THREE WEEKS!! We talked on the phone for two hours this afternoon, and it was awesome like a hot dog. ;) She's going to be here alone for a bit while her hubby finishes up with the selling of their house in Great Britain, so hopefully she'll be so bored that all she'll wanna do is hang out with my pregnant ass. Here's a picture of me and Jen and a dolly I gave her - I'm the pasty one with the caterpillar brows, she's the one who looks fabulous even in her bathrobe:

I'm a good mom! I fed Tristan dinner today, and it contained a course from every food group. Then I had to go to the bathroom, so I gave him a Ho-Ho for dessert. Hey, I didn't want him to fuss, ok? I took a picture of the results, too - keep in mind that this is *after* I pulled the bread out from behind his shoulder:

John went to a different grocery store than usual today, and the milk he got is SO CUTE!! It's called Country Fresh, and it has like swirlies and little flowers on the label. No word on the taste yet, though; I'm still finishing up the Toft's skim with this Nestle Crunch with Caramel. Which is so. Fucking. Good. YUM. It smells like coffee and it's thick like a fun size Crunch bar. And caramelly.

I also took these cute pictures of Tristan. The top one proves that he is without a doubt the cutest child ever to exist. The bottom one isn't a smile, but a sweet look that I adore.

And finally, there are these pictures I snapped the other day in an attempt to show Gwen how cute Tristan looks in the monkey shirt she bought him, which unfortunately barely fits already. Why? Because, as evidenced in these pictures, TRISTAN IS FREAKISHLY TALL. See?

Oh just one more thing. I had a very Zen moment a bit ago. I looked out the door, and there was a bunny standing there! This isn't an unusual occurrence at all, as our yard is like freaking Teletubbyland, but I was still excited to get a picture. As I was snapping thru the window so as not to disturb little Bunnons Lembeck, *another* little rabbit hopped onto the scene!! I was already breathless, and just then a cardinal flew over and landed in the tree. Unfortunately, the picture I got while he was there didn't turn out so well, but I did get this one before the bunnies hopped away.

Oh, and I've been being all creative-like and painting these cute name plaques for new babies I know. The Jayden one got SUCH a big "AWWWWWW" at the shower I attended on Sunday - well worth tolerating the bad food. ;)

the end. for real.

2003-05-19T20:47:00.000-04:00

Based on the song I just had to listen to half of, I can safely declare that Braid are a piece of shit. Who? I don't know, some shitty band that's on this Nowcore compilation CD. I'd link you but I'm too damn lazy.

2003-05-14T00:22:00.000-04:00

We hung out with John's new best friend Kevin and his girlfriend tonight. We went to the Feve for the first time since it re-opened, and WOW. SUCK. They shrunk the menu by about 90%, so basically your choices are burger, boca burger, shistawouk, buffalo shistawouk. And would you like that with fries, spicy fries, tater tots, hummus or tahini?

Tristan got Teletubbies shoes at Dave's Army Navy, which apparently no longer sells baby Converse. >: ( Fascists. Anyway, I am completely opposed to cheap ass character shoes in 99% of all situtations (look at me busting out the % sign tonight), but hello. TELETUBBIES. Tristan about shit. (Literally, probably. LOL.) They've got a big ass fucking yellow flower on the backs of them, so that should give us a good laugh when we take him over to the in-laws'. "WHY IS THAT BABY WEARING GIRL SHOES?!?" mwahahahahahhahaha.

So yeah, Kevin and Andrea. They're the kind of people that like, if I saw them out somewhere, I'd be like,"Wow. They're way cooler than us." Andrea wears makeup, something I considered doing but decided against seeing as how I had a very limited amount of time in which to get ready. Not to mention, I think you can always tell when someone's wearing makeup to hide their terrible acne. I don't have any nice clothes that fit anyway, so what the hell, why fight the scummies, right? Might as well be me. But there I go changing the subject back to myself again. Who am I, Tara Lipinski?

2003-05-14T00:13:00.000-04:00

I just took a hot bath, and it felt scandalously good. Scandalously.

Then I was thinking, Damn! It sure is hot in here, but there's nothing on this effing desk to put my hair up with. Then, lo and behold, I noticed an unopened package of 52 Ouchless Goody Elastics. Sometimes, everything just falls into place.

2003-05-12T10:42:00.000-04:00

And while we're on the subject of boys: Is it just me, or do you have to have testicles in order to enjoy the music of Foo Fighters? And don't you totally think that "I love it but I hate the taste" refers to the oral pleasures engaged in by Dave Grohl and Taylor Hawkins? Because really, do you ever see them not together? And when they ARE apart, aren't they always up on each other's jock?

2003-05-12T02:21:00.000-04:00

I've been meaning to get a link up to Anna's blog. I finally did. Check it out. If you like the graphics, I did them. If you hate them, it's all Anna, baby. ;P

2003-05-11T23:23:00.000-04:00

Stupid crappy day.

2003-05-10T22:11:00.000-04:00

"I Need Love" by Sam Phillips may or may not be the best song of all time. It's no wonder they made her the official Vonda Shepard of Gilmore Girls.

i left my conscience like a crying child
locked the door behind me put the pain on file
broken like a window i see my blindness now

i need love
not some sentimental prison
i need god
not the political church
i need fire
to melt the frozen sea inside me
i need love

driving into town tired and depressed
like a flare the streetlight bursts into an s.o.s.
peace comes to my rescue i don't know what it means

2003-05-09T15:25:00.000-04:00

Just for my sweet Delicious Young Prince, I give you three Alanis songs about Dave Coulier. Please throw your money into the guitar case over there. --->

"Will to Live"

I feel miserable
Hockey players make me ill
I feel miserable
Washed up comedians tear at my foundations
I feel miserable
Stupid jokes are dragging me down to the depths of misery
I want to die

Is it because of Dave Coulier that I feel this way?
With the pink rays of misery pounding on my brain?
Or am I lost in tale of Janis Joplin, adrift far from home
I don't think so, I don't think so.

Dave Coulier Broke My Will to Live
Dave Coulier Broke My Will to Live
Dave Coulier Broke My Will to Live
I was getting better but then
Dave Coulier Broke My Will to Live

I feel miserable
Full House episodes rot the flesh from my bones
I feel miserable
Chipmunk puppets defeat my purpose
I feel miserable
Those goddamn Olsen Twins are doing their best to impale my soul
I want to die

Is it because of Dave Coulier that I feel this way?
With the pink rays of misery pounding on my brain?
Am I lost in tale of Janis Joplin, adrift far from home
I don't think so, I don't think so.

Dave Coulier Broke My Will to Live
Dave Coulier Broke My Will to Live
Oh God, Dave Coulier Broke My Will to Live
I was getting better but then
Dave Coulier Broke My Will to Live

"I Think"

I Think hockey players are really a huge problem
I Think washed up comedians are too much on my mind
I Think stupid jokes have got a lot to do with why the world sucks
But what can you do?

Like a pink rain, beating down on me
Like a Janis Joplin line, which won't let go of my brain
Like Dave Coulier's ass, it is in my head
Blame it on Dave Coulier
Blame it on Dave Coulier
Blame it on Dave Coulier

I Think Full House episodes are gonna drive us all crazy
And chipmunk puppets make me feel like a child
I Think those goddamned Olsen Twins will eventually be the downfall of civilization
But what can you do? I said what can you do?

Like a pink rain, beating down on me
Like a Janis Joplin line, which won't let go of my brain
Like Dave Coulier's ass, it is in my head
Blame it on Dave Coulier
Blame it on Dave Coulier
Blame it on Dave Coulier

Like a pink rain, beating down on me
Like Dave Coulier's smile, cruel and cold
Like Janis Joplin's ass, it is in my head
Blame it on Dave Coulier
Blame it on Dave Coulier
Blame it on Dave Coulier

"Why"

Hockey players, washed up comedians, stupid jokes
Why God, Why?
Washed up comedians, Full House episodes, Dave Coulier
Why God, Why?

What have I done to deserve this pink horror?
Surrounded on all sides with the Hell of Dave Coulier
Like a Janis Joplin character, I'm wordy and alone
Why God, Why?

Chipmunk puppets, hockey players, those goddamned Olsen Twins
Why God, Why?
Dave Coulier, those goddamned Olsen Twins, stupid jokes
Why God, Why?

What have I done to deserve this pink disaster that is my life?
Surrounded on all sides with the Hell of Dave Coulier
Like a Janis Joplin character, I'm wordy and alone
Why God, Why?

What have I done to deserve this pink misery?
Surrounded on all sides with the Hell of Dave Coulier
Like a Janis Joplin character, I'm wordy and alone
Why God, Why?

Why God, Why?
Why God, Why?
Why God, Why?
Why God, Why?

2003-05-09T08:04:00.000-04:00

I have now officially declared that my cold has progressed and mutated into a new disease called the Mexican Barking SARS. I can barely cough at all anymore, and when I do, it sounds like the pathetic cry of an angry chihuahua. Yife! Yife!

I should also mention that I have no voice left, and when I try to speak it comes out sounding like the dying plea of an 86-year-old emphysema patient. And no, I don't think that's funny. My gramma died of emphysema. So quit smoking, you stupid fuck.

2003-05-08T23:36:00.000-04:00

the new alanis morrissette song?

I Think short shorts are gonna drive us all crazy
And firemen make me feel like a child
I Think burning leaves will eventually be the downfall of civilization
But what can you do? I said what can you do?

Like a purple rain, beating down on me
Like a e. e. cummings line, which won't let go of my brain
Like Eli's ass, it is in my head
Blame it on forest fires
Blame it on forest fires
Blame it on forest fires

Click on the lyric to write your very own, courtesy of The Brunching Shuttlecocks.

2003-05-07T02:03:00.000-04:00

http://sweet201.blogspot.com.

2003-05-05T22:01:00.000-04:00

When I was 15, I met a guy who owned a copy of every Rush album, with the exception of their seminal epic Moving Pictures.

I owned no Rush albums, save my two copies of Moving Pictures.

The gods of geekdom smiled down upon us, and we rode off into the sunset.

2003-05-05T00:29:00.000-04:00

So as I was saying. There's a link to my pregnancy blog over there on the right, so you don't have to read about leaky boobs and look at pictures of cribs if you don't want to. But if you do want to... please! Visit!!

2003-05-05T00:27:00.000-04:00

Ignore that, please. It's all fucked up and there's no way to fix it.

2003-05-05T00:25:00.000-04:00

Sorry I haven't been around much lately. Now that I've told everyone in person who needed to be told, I can make an official announcement: I'm pregnant! WOO!

In addition, my

2003-04-30T07:08:00.000-04:00

I am not particularly happy to be alive this morning.

I got about one hour of sleep.

Me, Tristan, and the living room all reek of Tristan's vomit.

Tristan threw up because he was hacking uncontrollably on this cough that just keeps getting worse and worse.

I cannot give him any cold medicine because my stupid idiot husband did not bring any home from the store the other day EVEN THOUGH it was the #1 MOST IMPORTANT THING on the list DO NOT COME HOME WITHOUT THIS.

I think about what the nurse said the other morning and wonder if the benefits of the antidepressant that keeps me sane outweigh the risks to the baby in my tummy.

I wonder if I am a risk to the baby in my tummy.

I wonder why I wanted another baby when I don't particularly like hanging out with the ones I already live with.

I don't want anything bad to happen to myself or my family, but at the same time I just wish I and/or they could fucking disappear. Just for awhile though. Really.

2003-04-21T21:46:00.000-04:00

sick of fucking everything

Ha ha ha. Yes, I fuck everything. Wiseass.

I'm just fucking sick of people and their bullshit. I spent Easter with people I can't stand. Then I sat this morning and had an argument with someone I don't think I particularly like (and the feeling is mutual, I'm sure.) Next, we had to go get diapers and stuff, and we ran into a bunch more people I didn't care to see. My dad was incessantly asking yet again when we are going to have another kid at dinner (the nice quiet dinner my family was hoping to have alone) until finally I was like, "Actually, I'm having some fertility problems. And it's really rude to ask people such personal questions." And he was all "Ehhh, I can ask whatever I want, tough guy! It's not rude, it's family!" So they leave, we go to the mall, and there is my sister in law with her husband and kid. They're not all that bad alone, it's when you get them in a group situation (such as, say, Easter dinner) that I want to gouge their fucking eyes out and tell them to buy their kid some decent clothes. Our kid loves their kid though, so of course we had to spend some time. A la laa.

While John chilled with them, I went to Deb and discovered the Plus Size department. The 36 Dubbs need more than the junior department can provide these days, it seems. I was pretty stoked 'cause the shirts over there have thick enough straps to wear a bra underneath, and they're a little bit longer, which is good for fat tits and fat guts. The only thing is.... wow. They sure do look like fat girl clothes. I do not look like a regular girl with big boobs. I look like a fat girl. Eck.

I think I need more Prozac. Two a day isn't doing it anymore. A punching bag would be good, too. A really soft one, though. Cause I'm a pussy. A really, really, really, really mad pussy.

2003-04-20T02:06:00.000-04:00

score

Today at the flea market I got a really cute little nautical throw pillow and a Cabbage Patch kid. Then at a resale shop which I will never visit again because all the clothes were scummy and faded, I found an On My Way with Sesame Street book that I didn't have yet. And THEN. We went to Taco Bell. And they gave us the WRONG ORDER. But it was still a GOOD ORDER!! Instead of a Cheesy Gordita Crunch, I had a Double Decker Taco. A soft taco instead of a hard one. And a bean burrito sent from the heavens. Yummmm. Then we went to the grocery store. We bought lots of stuff. I don't know if I want Sea Salt and Malt Vinegar chips, or Tostitos and Salsa. Or Tostitos and Salsa Con Queso. By the way, did they stop making Hint of Lime Tostitos? I loved them. :(

2003-04-20T01:59:00.000-04:00

no fucking way

You won't believe what happened last night. A cop came to the door and asked for me. John was all like, oh God, what did you do? LOL. But!! He was here to tell us!! That the Elyria Police!! FOUND MY PURSE!! Which was STOLEN!! In NOVEMBER!! We had to go get it that night. The cop was uber hot. My pics of Tris were still in there, but they'd been in someone's "treelawn" (whatthefuckisatreelawn?) for five months and so are very smeary. The cockfaces took all the CHANGE out of my purse. Can you imagine being that poor?? It makes me sooooo mad - it was found just feet from my dad's house, where we had looked up and down the street for an hour. If I would have just known then.... :( Anyway. There were so many little buggies living in there that I took what I could still use (library card, social security cards, grocery card, etc.) and just tossed the thing in the garage. I didn't want the snailies to die! It's not their fault that their house just happened to be my purse!! Now they can live happily in our fabulous rural dirt. As for the dirt who stole my purse in the first place... I hope all those pennies bought you a fine bottle of Boone's, or some milk for your kid, or a joint. Oh, and fuckyouverymuch.

2003-04-20T01:52:00.000-04:00

initiations

Over this long weekend, I have become a member of two very exclusive clubs: The Mommies Who Have Been Puked Upon, and The Mommies Who Have Had Their Titties Bitten. Ah, isn't this world a wonderful place??

2003-04-16T22:45:00.000-04:00

sinfully delicious

My dad. bought me. Half. A case. Of Tagalongs. Do you know how many cookies that is? That's six boxes. SIX BOXES!! Ninety of the most delicious confections known to man. I guess he doesn't care if my gut hangs out anymore.

We did one of my favorite shopping trips today: the Borders Outlet and PetLand. I petted kitties!! I talked to a nice old woman!! I got a lot of awesome books!! I need to go update my Amazon Wishlist, as I got a couple of things off of it (but at a deliciously DEEP discount!) - Watch Me Grow, I'm 2 and The Complete Book Of Hebrew Baby Names. I also got Tristan a PASSOVER board book, which is creepy, funny, and educational at the same time. Plus I got this book called Sweet Secrets, which isn't about toy jewelry that transforms into a doll, but rather, is a collection of menstruation stories. I already read a bunch of them. It's soooooo good!! Oh, and Naked Babies, which was written by (I <3) Anna Quindlen and photographed by someone who is not Anna Quindlen. Baby feets make me want to snuggle!

We also picked up Tristan's Easter stuff. His basket is a little tin bucket! We got a smooshy little Volkswagen car for the tub, two packs of Hot Wheels, a sparkly pinwheel, some Goldfish crackers, Marshmallow Peeps (DUH), and some Little Debbie Strawberry Shortcake rolls to go in it. Then he is getting a Talking Teletubby (Laa-Laa) and a Harry Lamb like mine, but yellow. My girl one (with white fur) is called Merry Lamb.... I wonder what we'll name Tristan's? Oh, and a Bear in The Big Blue House video. Is it Christmas??

A quick aside: John and I got all excited after reading the Passover book to observe it as piously as we could. Unfortunately.... it turns out that Passover began at Sundown. And I made pasta salad for dinner. So we have already failed. God is so going to smote me. On the other hand, I think this is a *prime* excuse to visit my beloved Max's Deli for some of their famously tasty Matzoh Ball Soup. Mmmmm...... Matzoh.

2003-04-15T01:36:00.000-04:00

whoa

I am both disturbed by and enamored with the Mutant Silents Dollmaker at CrAzie Dollz. That is all.

2003-04-14T15:16:00.000-04:00

more support

It has come to my attention that I was not giving everyone's goodies a fair shake. (Get it? SHAKE? ha ha ha haha) So it is my pleasure to present....

Jock Support. :)

2003-04-14T14:33:00.000-04:00

showing my support

I was just reading through some older posts by my good friend The Dynamite Diva, and I was so inspired by her support of our troops, that I realized it was time I stood up for something I believed in myself. I encourage all of you to save this banner to your own ftp sites and display it on your blog or homepage with pride....

Come on. Who doesn't support boobies??

2003-04-12T19:39:00.000-04:00

guess what? I know the heimlich maneuver!

Or at least, some semblance of it, as I managed to keep my kid from choking to death this afternoon.

Guess what else? Clifford Fruit Snacks, the most delicious of their kind, should apparently not be fed to anyone who doesn't have a full set of adult teeth. They are gummier than most and contain one piece that is the width of a nickel, and a good half inch thick. I guess I should have known better in the first place, but Tristan has always eaten the Sesame Street Fruit Snacks without any problem, so I thought that the much yummier Clifford snacks would be fine as well. What a stupid mommy am I.

It should be noted that John then bitched and stomped off because I wanted him to make dinner (instead of going outside to do some sort of important man thing, like moving rocks) while I comforted our freaked out, hysterical little boy in front of his favorite movie. When I said, "John, our kid just almost choked to death," he looked at me like I was a complete idiot and replied, "He did NOT almost choke to death, he was just CHO-KING. If he was choking for like five minutes, THEN he would have almost choked to death." Then I looked at him like HE was the idiot (and an asshole):"If he was choking for five minutes, HE'D BE DEAD."

"I know!! And that's why he wasn't choking to death!!"

"You weren't even THERE."

And he WASN'T. He didn't see the look on the poor baby's face or hear the horrible sound that I heard coming from his throat. The non-sound of something horribly, horribly wrong.

We also got into a fight last night, because I want a pair of kittens, and he says no more kittens. Then he said I don't respect him, and I can't always have what I want, and this is his house too. Then I got online and went to one of my mommy message boards, where I found out that one of the mommies had gone into preterm labor with her second child. Her first daughter. She weighed less than a pound, was about 8 and a half inches long, and lived for twenty minutes.

It has been a bad weekend.

2003-04-11T22:20:00.000-04:00

grrrrrr

So I found out today that my dad made a disparaging comment about me. To my husband. When they went out to eat together earlier this week after John helped him move a bunch of shit. This is the same cockfuck who told me my GUT WAS HANGING OUT and that I needed to do something about it (even though he, not so long ago, weighed about 280 pounds), and laughed as I struggled with his grandson and cockily asked the child's father, "Doesn't it make you appreciate your parents so much now? Don't you wonder how they PUT UP WITH YOUR SHIT?" The same guy who, a few weeks ago, saw his grandson's new haircut and said, "WHO BUTCHERED HIS HAIR?!?", then had the nerve to ask why I got so upset whenever he "said anything to me." The same guy who always asks are we bringing our son when we come visit, NOT because he wants to see his grandchild, but because he "never gets to show us his cool stuff or play his music loud." The same guy who made me eat at my own little table in my own little room the whole time my parents were married, because he COULDN'T STAND HAVING ME AT THE TABLE. I was the quietest, most subdued child you could ever meet. Beleev dat.

So I'm playing with Tristan, in a happy mood, getting him all dressed up to go to dinner with Grampa. John has been complaining ALL day that he smells something odious, and he starts spraying all kinds of Glade and lights a candle. I am like, "I do not smell what you are smelling." And he says, "I just want the house to smell good since your dad always makes a big deal about it not being clean when he comes." And I am like, "What are you talking about? He never says anything!" (Quite the CONTRARY, in fact. He always says that "it's not a big deal, I have a kid to take care of, and it's not like it's a total trash heap, we just have laundry and dishes that need done." Like, verbatim.) To which John replies, "Yeah, not to your face." And I am like. What. The. Fuck. What did he say. Tell me. "No, I shouldn't have said anything."

"No. Did he say something to you? You'd better fucking tell me if he did. What did he say? What?"

"Well, you know that snotty little way he says everything. He was just like, "Ehhh, Tina doesn't like to clean very much, does she? Ehhhh!" ("Eh" in this case is like a short e sound, not the Canajin "ayyyyyy" that we all know and love. Just for clarification's sake. And my dad looks and sounds like Jon Lovitz, if he was the biggest asshole in the world.)

So here's my lesson for today:

1. DON'T TALK SHIT ABOUT YOUR OWN KID. You motherfucking cocksucker. Fuck you.

2. MORE IMPORTANTLY, if you don't want any kids, DON'T FUCKING HAVE THEM. Don't go fucking seventeen year old girls without a condom. Ass.

3. If you are GOING TO TALK SHIT ABOUT YOUR OWN KID, DON'T be talking it to your kid's boyfriend, girlfriend, husband, wife, gay lover, lesbian, or kid.

4. And finally, if someone says something shitty about your spouse to you, and you don't FUCKING DEFEND them, and/or DON'T FUCKING TELL THEM, EVEN IF YOU ARE JUST TRYING TO SAVE THEIR FEELINGS, you are almost as bad as the shit talker.

current mood: fuckyou

current music: Sunny Day Real Estate - "Round"

2003-04-11T17:22:00.000-04:00

random thoughts

I am so rocking the Too Superlows today. They are effing HOTT. I love them sooo much cause they're like way broken in. Like thrift store jeans. They're also probably the slimmest-legged jeans I own, with only an 18.5" opening. For the longest time after flares became popular (1998, the year after I graduated high school) I couldn't wear them. I stuck to my darling wide-legs because I refused to admit that I had hips. (Very small ones, mind you. I'm totally apple shaped.) I used to have a teeny flat ass as well. But pregnancy and a lot of Haagen-Dazs have finally blessed me with a big old bubble. I also grew about three inches between age 16 and 21, so I don't have to cuff my pants anymore to keep from walking on them. Now, I wear my flare (and bootcut!) with pride.

Additionally. I think I am so lucky that I can eat a box of Tagalongs in one sitting (there ARE only fifteen in the box, you know) and all the ice cream and french fries that I desire, and can still somehow cram my ass into a size 11. I never thought I had any form of disordered eating, but when I think back on what I ate my senior year of high school, I realize that it's no wonder I wore a 4.

Breakfast: Half a bowl of oatmeal, glass of skim milk OR half a grapefruit, glass of ice water

Lunch: Lipton Cup-a-Soup (chicken noodle) OR a salad. Occasionally, some cheetos. Yum.

Dinner: Whatever I or my momma cooked. Usually it was chicken. Or steak. Mmmmm, steak.

Now, that sounds reasonable, right? I had a delicate stomach, you see. And I did pepper that with a LOT of McDonald's french fries and hot fudge sundaes over the course of my high school years. The thing is..... I was never limiting myself on purpose, or thinking about it. But. Was my delicate stomach just a mental thing? Or was I really prone to nausea? When I got preggers, I realized how easy it would be for me to become bulimic. I puked about 30 times a day for three months straight. I quickly learned how to make myself do it, just to be rid of the sick feeling. I could probably cough one up right now if you asked me to. In fact, I know I could, because I picked up what I thought was a clean mug about an hour ago, poured in coffee and milk, drank it all down, then got to the bottom and promptly discovered a rubbery mess of old milk goo. *shudder* Anyway. I'm not that fat. So yay.

One more thing: I so totally need to either get back on the pill or pregnant again soon. My face looks like a beeg-a peetza pie!

2003-04-10T23:20:00.000-04:00

pacific sunwear is my new favorite store, and stephen collins is even cuter in person

I LOVE PACIFIC SUNWEAR!! I decided today that it is my new favorite store. In the past month I think I've dropped at least $150 there (of my husband's money, of course.) Now, keep in mind that almost all of this money was spent on $6.99 and $4.99 shirts and 2 for $20 pants. John and I have now amassed entire new fall/winter/spring wardrobes (because here in Ohio, we only have two seasons: Fucking Cold, and Summer.) There are four Pacific Sunwear stores that I frequent, and today I got to hit my favorite one again. Lo and behold, it turned out that THEY ARE THE STORE that all of the clearance crap from the others gets shipped to!! I had a pair of pants to exchange from *yesterday's* PacSun jaunt (John said they would look hot on me. He was wrong) so I brought them along on our Strongsville Trip.

(A somewhat amusing aside: I meant to blog this when it happened but have been distracted as all hell lately... when I visited this same store a few weeks ago, the clerk who was taking fucking forever to ring me up and her don't-I-look-like-Chris-Carabba-if-he-worked-in-a-cheesy-ass-mall colleague were having a total bullshit contest with each other. I swear, it was the two biggest bullshitters on the planet arguing about who was the cooler one. It seems that one of them knew someone who used to be a rep for some record label, but the other one might be getting a job with a hipper record label. Well, then it turned out that Emo Boy in fact USED TO BE a rep for a label. No, no, Arguing-Not-Ringing-Chick knew someone who was a rep for SONY. Thank god her co-worker knew that SONY ISN'T A LABEL and shouted it from the back of the store. THEY JUST OWN OTHER LABELS. Well, she knew it was whatever label "That band? Trapt? Like, Tee-Are-Ay-Pee-Tee? Is on? Whatever label that is." I think at this point in the conversation I was wondering if those spikey bracelets they sell really *would* break someone's face if applied correctly. Especially since the chick reminded me of the most annoying bitch at my high school. Her name was Dawn, but I saw her waitressing in a TGI Fridays a few years ago, where she informed me that "IT'S SELENA NOW." End of aside.)

So I traded my makes-my-ass-look-flat pants for some Too Superlow Levi 520s. (I always buy the lowest rise I can find, as I'm built like a Ford worker who just can't give up the daily twelve-pack.) I could just die. My ass crack hangs out, like, two inches more than it usually does in my jeans. HOTT. I cannot even believe that I got $42 pants for $10. Woohoo! I also tossed two $4.99 tops - a 3/4 sleeve stripey polo (which I like to think of as my "signature" style) and a RILLY CYOOT turtlenecky sweater with EMBROIDERED SNOWFLAKES! - and two pairs of awesome Tilt jeans in there. I don't know if Tilt is JUST a Pacific Sunwear brand - I didn't think it was, but as that is almost all that's on their clearance rack, I wonder. But they have THE BEST pants. I swear, my ass looks GOLDEN. One pair was missing the top button, and had been there - for TEN DOLLARS - since December. DECEMBER!! It took me five minutes to sew one on. Stupid girls. Anyway... Total? $32.47. The guy who waited on me was SO HOTT, and SO NICE. He talked about how he got his girlfriend a bunch of the $4.99 clothes, and I thought he was a great guy. But when we got home, John informed that the guy was, in fact, just throwing off my Gaydar. And now that I think about it - a guy who takes home clothes for his girlfriend?!? HA! - I realize that he was almost certainly right. Which saddens me a little. The cute ones always are....

But enough about my clothes. Let's talk about the REASON I was in Strongsville in the first place - STEPHEN COLLINS!!! He signed books and CDs today at Borders from 3 till 5:30. Well, he was supposed to be there until 5:30, but there was SUCH A BIG TURNOUT that he stayed until 6:15. Thank GOD, because when I got up there to meet him, it was 6 pm. The crowd was pretty much what you would expect - you had your retards, your cripples, your fat ladies with their homely daughters, and Seventh-Heaven-lovin' teeny boppers like me. To my delight, there was also one Trekkie family - a very ugly couple and their 10-year-old son, who had these weird pointy shoulder pads under his, umm, Trekkie shirt. I wondered why they were there for about an hour or so, until John returned to me from the magazine section and asked if Stephen Collins used to be on Star Trek. Of course, I just read a big article about him being in some Star Trek movie the other night, but that's not the kind of information I have room for, what with all that weed I used to smoke. They were all out of Stephen's erotic mystery novels by the time we got there, so I broke down and spent the $18 on his new CD, because I figured that if the guy is nice enough to sit there for three hours and shake hands with idiots who are asking him things like "Is Mrs. Camden as nice in person as she looks on TV?", the least I could do is throw the guy a little profit. Besides, he sang pretty on Seventh Heaven. As I stood in the 90-minute line, I heard this really groovy doo-wop loungey stuff playing, and I was like, "Ohmigod!! I think this is his CD!! It's so gooooooood!!!" Which was such a deliciously pleasant surprise. In front of me in line was a Fat Mom/Ugly Daughter combo, and they kept getting out of line to grab books on collectible dolls, NASCAR, and Omar Vizquel, then getting out of line AGAIN to put said books back. And bending over and sticking their giant white trash asses in my face. Behind me were two darling, giggly teenyboppers. The cuter one's cell phone had a vaguely familiar, but unidentifiable ringtone, which I heard about twenty-seven times, in addition to one side of a debate with her mother over whether she fed the dog before she left. When you are 23, 16 seems soooooo young.

So I got up to the front of the line. I met Mr. Collins, and he was a delighfully charming man. He's a quiet talker, and he has big, strong hands. His hair was longer and thinner than I expected, but his eyes are sooooooo sparkly, and his SMILE!!! ::dies:: He is gorgeous. Especially for a man who graduated COLLEGE in the 1960s. I made John go to Target and buy a disposable camera since I forgot the digital in my rush to get out the door by 4:00, and he took a picture of Mr. Collins with his ARM AROUND ME!!! (Just like he did for every other ugly woman - don't worry, I have no illusions or stalker tendencies here.) I tried hard not to say anything incredibly retarded (per my history of making famous people hate me), he said thank you for coming out, and then it was all over. My brush with greatness. Ahhh, Stephen Collins. I hardly knew ye.

2003-04-09T15:32:00.000-04:00

I'm drinking the whole milk today, and i don't care how fat it makes me. It's sooooo creamy.

I also heated up cold cuts for lunch. Which makes them hot cuts, I think.

But cutting is NEVER hot. So don't.

2003-04-03T19:43:00.000-05:00

so fucking yay

Next Thursday, at the Borders in Strongsville, I AM GOING TO MEET STEPHEN COLLINS!!!!!!!! OMG, I could die. He's like #21 on the crush list. *diediedie* I wonder if he'll sign my boob......

current mood: sickies :(

current music: The Promise Ring - Deep South

current crush: Jon, it's all you, baby. Not to mention: STEPHEN! FUCKING! COLLINS!!!

2003-04-03T19:28:00.000-05:00

superbaby

Today, Tristan learned how to:

1. Eat with a spoon;

2. Open the door to the laundry room; and

3. Climb up onto the couch all by himself.

It's too bad John just folded up the playpen today, because I think I'm going to be needing it A LOT more often now....

2003-03-31T22:28:00.000-05:00

banner

Dave made me this awesome banner. The question is: Where should I put it? **

You know, I think you could even put it on your own blog, with a link to me, if you like. I can use the advertising.

**Note: Because it is an animated gif file and not, in fact, a tangible thing, I regret that I cannot put it in the place that you are thinking. You dirty bird.

2003-03-31T14:44:00.000-05:00

hmmmm

Is Lauren the cutest sweetie pie, or the sweetest cutie pie?

I love having a new friend.

2003-03-31T09:33:00.000-05:00

annoyed

There is some kind of bird or bug chirping outside that sounds *exactly* like a god damn cell phone ringing. It is all I can do to keep from feeling myself up and going, "Is that me? Is that me?"

2003-03-29T02:21:00.000-05:00

yayyaysuperfun

I hung out with Lauren. And I have the pictures to prove it.

2003-03-21T04:29:00.000-05:00

identical hand twins

Okay, so not actually identical. And not actually hand, either. But look!! I was googling my kid's name today (as I do from time to time, 'cause I'm a total weirdo) and came across this fine gent who shares the same first and last with my little guy.He's an ARTIST, he's in college, he's even pretty cute, and YES, he's CANADIAN!! You know how I loves me some Canucks, eh? Ehhhh.

It seems that The Other Tristan Bentley was doing a little sleuthing of his own, and found yet ANOTHER of their kind on an Alabama middle school's honor roll. This Tristan, though, is a GIRL!! That's right. Tristan Denise Bentley. But that's not the most interesting thing to be found within this list - I got a real kick out of reading all of these poor children's names. (Before we continue, I must note that I am a HARDCORE NAME NERD. I think about baby names ALL DAY LONG, EVERY DAY.) I consider myself a connoisseur of names, and I can also spell connoisseur without looking it up. Aren't you proud of me? Anyway, I've gathered them into faux-pas categories for your chuckling pleasure:

"No one will ever use the middle name anyway, right?"

McKenzie Helen Rice

Tristan Hawk Arnett

Dorothy Madison Jones (I think this is a case of "We'll just call her by her middle name")

Jarrett Hugh Bentley (I assume this is Girl Tristan's little brother)

Joshua Dale Swanson (Dale?)

Colin Jerry Gaines (Jerry?)

Kaylyn Claruece Williams (What's a vtoooomsh?)

"Are you a boy or a girl?"

Jordan Kyle Morgan

Taylor Reid Parton

Jordam Perry (Jordam?)

Dakota Blake Clark

Joey Dee Rollins (also falls under "You named that baby WHAT?!?!" I mean, Hello? Joey Dee?)

Austin Piper Walker (I never thought of Austin as a girl's name, but no one uses Piper for a boy, do they?)

Alliston Casey Maddox (Alliston? Hmmm.... I kind of *like* that!)

"Future Strippers of America"

Rebecca Star Smith

Pebbles Nkkia Brown

Destiny Brooke Hamm

Savannah Rae Draper (I actually *suggested* that my friend name her daughter Savannah. Thank God she didn't listen.)

Angel McKayla Goodman (because all girls named Angel turn out to be sooo slutty)

"You named that baby WHAT?!?"

Prairie Rose Oliver (This also falls under "Future Strippers of America." And "Names for Muppets."

Bronte Mattise Pruitt (Clearly, this momma fancied herself cultured)(though I must admit, I actually LOVE this)

Statlin David Ponder (What the hell is a Statlin?)

Jesse Ray Payne (Well, it IS Alabama...*banjos play in the distance*)

Kaleb Bain Yancy (McBain?)

Cartrite Aubrey Williams (Also falls under "Are you a boy or a girl?")

Sarahlane Davina Gaines (Sarahlane? Hello, I'm Tinaavenue. And this here's Johnboulevard.)

Sunnie Roxanne Norris (Hmmm....in case she doesn't like Sunnie, let's give her a normal middle name. Nah, let's not and say we did.)

And here are a few more to which I wanted to call attention, but they didn't really fit in any of the categories:

Heather Danielle Sprayberry (This name makes me picture a rock-video slut getting sprayed with a hose)

Abby Pullen Clark (Perhaps Clark should get his lazy ass up and walk)

Meagan Danielle Sigala Nance (I recommend that you do not put anything in your child's name that sounds even remotely like a deadly bacterium)

Tamonyqua La’vennya Brown (I'm trying not to make fun of the "ethnic" names on the list, but I couldn't pronounce this if you paid me.)

Kallie Ragon Bible (That Kallie is ALWAYS raggin' on the Bible)

Eric Dillon Gay (If your last name is Gay, for heaven's sake, CHANGE IT!!)

Vinton Cody Sprayberry (You named that baby WHAT?!)

William Richard Morehead (I really, REALLY hope this kid goes by "Dick")

So, I just spent a great deal of time poking fun at the names of these innocent little children. Yep, yep. I'm definitely going to hell.

2003-03-18T17:06:00.000-05:00

po' wahtrash

I was just looking over the week's receipts when I came across this announcement: ''Design your engagement ring at WalMart.com!'' Isn't that so classy?

In related news: Today on Jerry Springer, a newly-outed pair of trailer park lesbians decided to - what else - get nekked and rub boobies together. The twist? One of them was wearing granny panties. (I wanted to show you the actual picture, but apparently you have to join the Jerry Springer Fan Club to see it, and that costs $9.95. A MONTH. What. the. fuck.) Now honestly, folks... if you *knew* you were going to be on a television show where 95% of the guests remove at least *some* of their clothing, wouldn't you wear some less embarassing underthings? And what self-respecting, non-post-partum 21-year-old wears granny panties anyway? (Oh wait, did I just use "self-respecting" and "Jerry Springer guest" in the same paragraph? What WAS I thinking?)

2003-03-18T04:29:00.000-05:00

ten reasons why you would do well to have me as a friend

1. I make a mean chicken soup. It's spicy, but not too spicy. Not too salty, either. And there are no unidentifiable "chicken" parts (a la Campbell's) in it either. Just pure, noodley goodness. Plus, you can have iced tea or grape juice with it. Or skim milk. Your choice!

2. I make good chocolate chip cookies, too. John will tell you that they always dry out when I make the from scratch, but that's only because he doesn't put them away like I asked. He still claims that they are so good that I must be putting some kind of narcotic in them, so who cares if they're a little crunchy, anyway?

3. Ladies, there's a good chance that I'm fatter than you. This means that you will always get the first pick of the guys who might come our way. Plus, when we go shopping together, you will feel SO good about yourself. Especially if we go to Aeropostale, because their clothes run so big that *I* can buy a 7 on my FATTEST days. So you'll probably only need a 3, my little sexy one!!

4. Being fat means I have BIG BOOBS! This one's good for the guys and girls alike. Gents, you may have a gander at my chesties as we talk of love and beer. And my girlies? The generous tatas will be a blessing for you as well, as the guys at the mall will stare at them, look up at my four-eyed, Bert-browed moon face, and immediately avert their gaze to the beauty walking next to me. Because every ugly chick has a pretty friend, right?

5. I'm kinda slutty. Do you need some lovin'? One of my favorite things to do with guy friends is pretend we're LUVAHS in public. If you need someone to play games with your heart, I'm your man. Or woman. Whichever you prefer. I'll also do the naughtiest things, and you don't even have to get me drunk. I'LL JUST PRETEND I AM!! :D!

6. I like to buy people's friendship. Ask John - when I came home from my most recent ($250) shopping trip with several bags full of stuff for him, I said, "You probably thought I bought six bags of clothes for myself, didn't you?" To which he replied, "Not really, I figured it was the usual - some for you, some for me, some for Tristan, some for babies we haven't had yet, some for Julia (my friend's baby), some for your cousin, some for people we don't know...." It's funny because it's true. Even my internet friends get good stuff for Christmas. Please like me. I am begging you.

7. My house is a total mess. Once again, you will feel SO much better about yourself after a few hours with me. Is there week old gelatin on your floor? When your cat tracks a turd across the floor, do you just let it lay there for a day or two? (Okay, I don't either, but ONLY because I have a toddler who thinks everything is food. Including - no, ESPECIALLY - poo.)

8. I will pee on your cereal for $100. Actually, I'd pee *anywhere you asked me to* for $100.

9. I love to listen to people's problems. Want to whine about the marriage proposal you've been waiting on for two years? Need to bitch about your parents, and how they "just don't understand"? I'm a licensed adviceologist* with over 10 years experience. Call me now for your free readin'!

10. I'm always up. Do you SEE what time it is? And I'm online. Don't you wish you had someone to talk to at 4:30 am?? I could be that someone. No. I AM that someone. You know you want it. IM me now!

* License not valid in any of the fifty United States, Puerto Rico, Guam, Venezuela, Antarctica, Greenland, Spain, or the Lesser Antilles. By contacting the adviceologist you declare that she will not be held liable for any horrid misfortunes that may befall you as a result of heeding her recommendations. Services available only where permitted by law. If you or anyone in your immediate family has ever ridden in a hot air balloon, you may be entitled to a free piece of gravel from my driveway. Some restrictions apply. Void where prohibited.

2003-03-15T01:35:00.000-05:00

the secret life of chicken mcnuggets

I've been having a kick-ass time drawin' it up with my friends on Yahoo's new Doodle Messenger. I even made a four-part comic series that I would like to share with you, shown here in its entirety:

2003-03-12T02:52:00.000-05:00

male celebrities I think are hott

I am SO into guys lately. So in no particular order, I bring you my slender, foppish favorites....

1. Ethan Embry. Oh, delicious yumminess. I love everything about this guy, including the fact that he reminds me so so much of my friend Alex, who I never did get to sleep with, but still want to. They both have a lisp!! Purrrrrr........

2. John Mayer. I admit it - I've never listened to a lick of the guy's music. Apparently he's "critically acclaimed", though. Not to mention, quite a piece of eye candy.

3. Josh Duhamel. This guy used to be on my very favorite soap, All My Children, along with Hott Boy #4, Cameron Mathison. I also have some very, very tasteful (and by tasteful, I mean YUMMMMMY) nudes of him in a book that A Delicious Young Prince got me for my 21st birthday, As I See It by famed homo photog Greg Gorman. Thank you again, dear Prince!!

4. Cameron Mathison. Another AMC alum. Look at those cheekbones. Cameron was an International Male underwear model before he was on All My Children, but he's a surprisingly good actor. No, really. Ya gotta believe me.

5. Mark McGrath. While we're on the spiky-haired hottie kick, let's not forget delectable Sugar Ray frontman Mark McGrath. My god, what I would do to this guy. But he did date Carmen Electra, so I'd probably make him wear a condom. Two condoms. A tarp?

6. Jim Adkins. The singer from Jimmy Eat World. SOHOT! Ohhhh, that baby face. And the 1995 hair... hey, Jimmy, howsabout you take your lips away from that microphone for a minute and put them on my *censored*

7. Michael Stipe. It's true: I have a thing for balding, AIDS-patient looking guys. Michael Stipe has the most beautiful eyes of ever forever. When I was little, I was certain I would marry him - I had no idea he was playing for the home team. And now? Well, now I think that just makes him SO MUCH HOTTER. Because the only thing I love more than girl-on girl action, is guy-on-guy action. Oral, not anal. Mmmmmm, oral.

8. Gordon Downie. This Tragically Hip frontman is basically the Canadian Michael Stipe, though he was a lot hotter about ten years ago before he put on all that weight. But then again, so was I. I couldn't find a picture of either one of us from back then.

9. Davey Von Bohlen. Rounding out the Triad of Bald Rock Heroes is the genius behind my favorite band ever, The (now-defunct) Promise Ring. To watch Davey perform is to come in your panties. I know the pic is crappy, but it's the best I could do - Davey's on the far right, looking all mysterious. *licks lips*

10. Ryan Phillipe. I think I might be spelling his name wrong, but who cares? And I'm not sure what's up with that pic, but you all know what he looks like anyway, and I love love love him in the glasses. Love him. I first saw Ryan on One Life to Live when I was maybe 12, and he was playing The Soaps' First Ever Gay Teen. And you know what gay teens do to me.

11. Topher Grace. Topher Grace is one of my very favorite hot boys, and this is MY FAVORITE PICTURE of him. Just in case this site is a free geocities site that doesn't let you link directly to an image, here is the link to the webpage it is on. Oh my goodness, Topher Grace, please will you be my bride? I already have a husband, but it's cool. You can live under the bed.

12. Julian Casablancas. Julian sings with the Strokes. Julian's daddy owns one of the largest modeling agencies in the world. Julian needs to be naked in pictures. Someone tell Julian's daddy.

13. Alton Brown. Not only is Alton thin and balding, but he wears those stylin' emo glasses *and* he has a BUTT CHIN!! I want to stick my index finger between his chin-cheeks and tickle, tickle, tickle. Although, I *am* a little concerned about what he intends to do to me with that mixer. I hope and pray that we're only making cookies....

14. Rivers. Cuomo. Rivers has it ALL. The glasses. The eyes. The pseudo-semi-pompadour, and a facial structure that rivals the Roman Gods. My husband looks an AWFUL lot like this incarnation of Rivers Cuomo, and I couldn't be more thrilled. I'll tell you straight up: I DO NOT LIKE IT IN THE BUTT. But if Rivers asked me, I think I would let him. Oh yes. But only if you sing me "Butterfly" while we do it.

15. David Duchovny. I'm not sure what is so unnatural about him, but this was quite a lovely photo in spite of the odd caption, so I decided to go with it. I think I'm way hotter than his wife, but that's just me.

16. Craig Kilborn. OH MY GOD LOOK AT HIM IN THOSE GLASSES!!!! Super excellent thanks to A Delicious Young Prince for finding this picture for me. OH! MY! GOD! LOOK! AT! HIM! IN! THOSE! GLASSES!!!!!!!

17. Noah Wyle. Of course I love Noah on ER, but you know what I actually thought he was hottest in? Pirates of Silicon Valley. Noah must have PERFECT 20/20 vision, because I couldn't find a single pic of him in glasses. The bastid. Doesn't he know how hot they make me?

18. J. Keith Van Straaten. And for your viewing pleasure, that's my very favorite photo of him with the very hottest Girl Celeb, Lisa Loeb. So much Glasses Action. J. Keith was the SHIT on Beat The Geeks; now, Beat The Geeks is just, well, SHIT.

19. Jimmy Fallon. Jimmy is SO HOT, ESPECIALLY in his glasses. I couldn't find a single decent glasses pic, though. If you have one, let me know. I might even pay you. Seriously.

20. SPECIAL CLASSIC HOTTIE: Gordon Gano, circa 1982. I wouldn't touch this creep with a 59 1/2 foot pole now, but when their self-titled album was released, Gordon was so scrumptiously fey. I can just picture him, scribbling the lyrics to "Please Do Not Go" in his Mead Classic notebook, then double-fisting his johnson under the covers. Which would later beget everyone's favorite party tune (groan), "Blister in the Sun."

So there we have it. Twenty hot guys. I'd give you more, but damn, am I ever tired of typing this. Rock on.

2003-03-11T18:46:00.000-05:00

mmm mmm good

Bake the cookies? Eat the dough. No, bake the cookies. Wait... eat the dough?

And so goes the dilemma of millions of Americans. Who can ever decide on the best method for conquering one of those delectable rolls of refrigerated cookie dough? They're only big enough to do one or the other - if you eat just a few raw spoonfuls, there isn't enough left over for more than a dozen baked treats, which leads many a husband to ask, "What happened to all the cookies?" (To which the correct reply is, undoubtedly, "Jesus, John, how many did you eat? I told you not to take the whole container in there while you were watching Deuce Bigalow. And just how many beers have you had, anyway?!") Well, I am happy to announce that we can fret no more. There's a new dough in town, and I think you're gonna like it.

One of our favorite songs around here is "Mabel" by the SoCal punk band Goldfinger. It has a lyric that goes a little like this:

then on Tuesday, Mabel left me
I heard she's goin' out with Charlie
She saw his package, from what I know she said:
"THAT LOOKS LIKE A TUBE OF COOKIE DOUGH!"

Well, let me tell you, if I met a guy who was hung like Pillsbury Family Size Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough, I would run screaming in the other direction. This roll is SO BIG!!! Remember the scene in Pump Up The Volume where Christian Slater asks the girl, "Is it bigger than a baby's arm?" Well, this mofo is bigger than the whole damn baby. Here is an artist's representation of just how much dough you get in a tube of Pillsbury Family Size:

There is enough cookie dough here (TWO WHOLE POUNDS!!) to feed a family of Ethiopians for a whole month. Or, you can screw the starving bastards - after all, THEY'RE the ones who are dumb enough to keep making AIDS babies every time the flies eat the last one - and do like I do: One for me, one for the oven. Two for me, one for the oven. God, I love America.

**NOTE: Though Pillsbury clearly states that they do NOT recommend eating any raw cookie dough, they also divulge that their packaged doughs are made with dry, pasteurized eggs, which EVERY dough connoisseur knows were created specifically for raw-dough deliciousness. Besides, the shit keeps in the fridge for AT LEAST three months - I'm sure all those preservatives are keeping the E. Coli at bay.

2003-03-08T20:51:00.000-05:00

my best friend

Not too many people know this, but my very best friend is none other than the amazing Sheepy. It is with a joyful heart that I now will sing his praises.

My first encounter with Sheepy took place at the RonFez.net boards. On the off chance that you're not one of those who are "in the loop", Ron and Fez is a radio show that airs nowhere near Ohio, where I live. I only started visiting there because another one of my VERY best friends, T.J. O'Pootertoot, was a board moderator at the time. He was always linking me to these interesting threads, and finally I just gave in and started posting. Anyway.... if you visit the RF.net boards, it is hard to miss Sheepy's posts. He's all over the place. The thing is, I couldn't understand a word he said. You see, I was not yet attuned to the beautiful prose that is Sheepy-speak. I had him pegged somewhere between blathering idiot and total spazz, when a magic moment occurred. There was a thread about shavin' the pubes, and Sheeps made a comment about "trimming back the bushes so you could see the mailbox." Needless to say, I found this HILARIOUS, and it just so happened that at the time, the (actual) bushes around my (actual) mailbox were only trimmed away on the side from which the mailman approaches. I went outside, photographed this phenomenon, and posted the results in said thread. Sheeps was delighted, we AIM'd, and thus began a rockin' palship that I never saw coming.

There are SO many things I love about Sheepy. We can (and do) talk about ANYTHING. He knows so many top-secret pieces of Tina info, I'll have to kill him if we ever break up. He's cuddly and perfect and completely fucking HILARIOUS, and here are some more random reasons why Sheepy is the best thing going these days:

He likes to visit teen help sites with me. Honestly, who can get enough masturbation pointers (pun intentional)? Not me and Sheeps. He is always willing to giggle with me about things like the five stages of pubic hair development. And many teens seem to need someone to answer the question, "Am I Gay?" To which the answer, in most cases, clearly is a resounding YES.

He'll read enema porn stories with me, too. I'm sure your first question would be, "Tina, why the $#%( are you looking at enema porn, anyway?" You see, some naughty Korean was brought to my site from the query "Rub my tummy you're so good to me says toy". Now, I personally have NO idea what this means, but I just *had* to do a search to see just how many pages of results a person would click through before they found Let's Get Milk-Faced. I never did find out, though, 'cause I was sidetracked by this story. Come ON, people - if you saw something labeled enemarotica.com, you'd click too. Don't lie. But I digress. Sheepy and I are now forever corrupted (even more than before), as together we happened upon the filthiest thing ever written. And read it. All. For research purposes only, I can assure you.

Sheepy understands everything I say. If I said to you, "This epstoo is so grovery," you wouldn't have any idea what the hell I was talking about. But Sheepy would.

He's ALWAYS there. Whenever I am sick or sad or lonely or suicidal or happy and want to joke, my Sheep is nearby. We know all 15 of each other's secret AIM names. (Sometimes, I AM online. I'm just HIDING from you. But not Sheepy. Hells no. So NYAH.)

Sheepy likes music. Sometimes we don't like the same stuff, but he is always willing to try out my recommendations. Plus, he doesn't make fun of me for liking Jimmy Eat World. Oh wait..... YES HE DOES. But that's okay. I deserve it. For liking Jimmy Eat World. Did I mention he likes Sean Lennon? Fabulous. Simply fabulous.

Sheepy likes kids. And not in a dirty way. Sheepy lets me show off EVERY PICTURE I take of my darling little Tristan Elijah, and even tells me how nice he looks, even if he really doesn't. Plus he'll tolerate all my pictures of Cabbage Patch Dolls!

Sheepy is a nice guy. He doesn't curse or say dirty things. He doesn't have to!! He is funny as fuck (I *do* have to curse) without resorting to the lowest-common-denominator thing. Have you SEEN his blog?

There are LOTS AND LOTS of other reasons why I am Sheepy's #1 fan, but I either can't think of them right now, or am bound not to reveal them by penalty of death. 'Cause that's what friends do - keep each other's embarassing secrets. And if my SECRETS are more embarassing than what I've already revealed on this page, you can only imagine what must be contained therein....

2003-03-04T23:22:00.000-05:00

my first orgasm

Well, THAT certainly got your attention, didn't it? Today, I want to talk about my first orgasm. I'm feeling a bit nostalgic, you see.

I won't mention how old I was when this all took place, as I am certain there would be some legal ramifications to that. Let's just say that the Simpsons hadn't yet debuted (no wonder I was bored enough to seek out the pleasures of the flesh), and "Step by Step" by the New Kids on the Block may have been the #1 song in the country. Maybe. Anyway.... probably a year prior to The Big Event, I had discovered the Holy Grail in the upstairs of our garage - a big box, chock-full of late 70s-early 80s porno mags that had apparently belonged to my father and/or grandfather. My mom wasn't around much, so I had a LOT of time to myself, much of which involved sneaking off into the woods with my very favorite issues. (All I did in the woods was sit on a log and gape at the pictures - so innocent was I.) In time I would become emboldened, hiding the best of the best (or maybe it was just whatever was on the top of the stack, I can't say for sure) underneath my jacket and racing up the stairs to hide them in my bedroom closet. Really I preferred the ones with a lot of stories; I remember I had this issue of Playgirl Couples that was a letters special or something. (What can I say - I always was a reader!) That one was extra handy, as it was a compact little number about the size of a TV Guide, and especially easy to conceal in case of capture. But I digress. Among the periodicals I managed to sneak into my bedroom were: The Seductive Milkmaid, a black-and-white spread about a woman who squirted breastmilk at her sexual partners (a talent with which God would later bless me as well); an early-80s Hustler, the only part of which I remember being a movie parody entitled "The Postman Always Comes Twice"; and my very most favorite, "Mixed Pairs". This was a pictorial special featuring interracial ("Mixed") girl-on-girl action ("Pairs"). I was so hot for every naked lady in that book. SO HOT.

Let me preface this by saying that I have ALWAYS loved naked ladies. Truthfully, I have no idea how I ended up (semi-)heterosexual, as I never had ANY interest in the men in my naughty books. I honestly wasn't even sure what their role exactly was. (I would later be molested, coerced, and date raped - I am glad I had these first sexual experiences on my OWN terms, otherwise I am convinced I would be even more of a nutcase than I am today.) One of the first dreams I can ever remember having, back in the days when I played with Strawberry Shortcakes and "Every Breath You Take" by The Police made me scared to fall asleep, was me being in a barn, and all these identical ladies were lined up in a row, dressed as cowgirls in fringey satin shirts (white with navy blue fringe, just like one that I had, except I didn't tie mine under my boobs, because I didn't have any). The girls all had HUGE boobs, and big blonde hairdos, and a piece of paper with a number written on it was attached to every one's shirt. One by one, they came up to me and flashed their giant breasts, and I was supposed to be the judge or something. Man, that was a good dream. Anyway. I remember having a girl friend around that time who used to play what we called "woo-woo" with me. "Woo-woo" was when we took off all our clothes, climbed into my bedroom closet, shut the sliding door, and laid together and "kissed" like in the movies. (Imagine opening your mouth as wide as you can, and doing a fish-mouth thing to the person next to you. That's it! "Kissing"!) Whoever was the "boy" got to be on top, and let me tell you, I was almost always the girl. Even then I was the sub! A few years later I had another girl friend who was two years older chronologically, but in my same grade in school. She also helped to guide me down the Sapphic Path, but I honestly can't remember if that was before or after The Big Event. And then there was the friend a few years later who laid on the bed with me and read the naughty novelThe Virgin's Sex Holiday,which I found in my grandfather's chair, cover to cover in one night. Jeez, am I STILL talking? Let's get to the good part.

It was a hot summer night. No, really. I don't have any idea where my mom was at. She wasn't home, I know that. I probably spent my evening the usual way - drawing, writing stories, watching Dr. Ruth and the Home Shopping Channel... I'm pretty sure I took an evening walk. At some point I decided to come indoors and chill with my favorite naked ladies - the girls of Mixed Pairs. I was flipping through, getting that funny feeling, you know how it is. I had been kinda-sorta figuring out the whole masturbation thing for a couple of years, but I never did anything that involved removing clothing or targeting a specific area of the body - always more of a rocking-on-the-floor or rubbing-to-sleep kind of thing. Well, on this particular night, the Mixed Pairs girls were getting me VERY throbby, to the point of sheer pain almost. The rocking wasn't working, the rubbing wasn't helping, and I was feeling mighty curious. Long story short, I figured out what I was supposed to do. It felt good, good, gooooood......... and all of a sudden, it felt SO GOOD. I BLACKED OUT, and SAW STARS, and couldn't breathe!! I thought I was going to die!! I thought I DID die!! I was completely astounded, and probably sat there numb and buzzing for a good two minutes. My big-boobed blonde dream woman and her Asian friend stared up at me from the page, and I stared back, certain that I had discovered the secret of the universe. Later in life, I would learn that that was called an orgasm, and that everyone (well, if they are lucky) has them. But for that brief moment, I thought I had been touched by God. Thank you, publishers of cheesy 70s porn, whoever left that box in our garage, and most of all, lovely ladies of Mixed Pairs. I owe you big.

**A few things I forgot to mention:**

1. I also had this EXACT magazine, and I plan to bid on it tonight. I'm looking forward to the challenge of re-creating My First Porno Stash.

2. The Magnificent Box O'Porn turned up missing after my mother and her second husband split up. Apparently he felt he needed to get SOMETHING out of the relationship. The BASTID. If I had known he was going to do that, I'd have taken the whole damn BOX up to my bedroom. I'm sure no one would have noticed anyway.

3. As for *my* delicious selections, I was forced to throw them away at the age of 18, when I abruptly moved out of my abusive household, and in with my future husband and his good Christian parents. I couldn't have them thinking I was a dirty girl, now could I? (Wow, I wanked to the same mags for a good seven years.... I guess I really DID love those ladies!)

4. The Seductive Milkmaid, if I correctly recall, actually had some photos CUT OUT of it, making the story a bit difficult to follow. Kinda nasty when you think about it now. Where DID those pictures go? I'm not sure I want to know.....

2003-03-02T23:35:00.000-05:00

lame!

I realize that my last post was LAME! to the core. For this I apologize. I really don't even have anything to talk about today, but I noticed that NO ONE in my little circle has been blogging the past few days, so I feel somewhat obligated to say, well, something. OOGA BOOGA! There.

So..... what have I been up to the past week......? Slacking off. Sleeping. Exercising. Avoiding social situations. My gramma fell and broke her arm and stuff again. My kid was super cranky today. I'm so boring. :(

On the up side, though, you can now buy me stuff from my Amazon.com wishlist, or listen to my ("my") radio station ("radio station") at Launch.com. Just use the links to your left there. Apparently, the Launch thing only works sometimes. But if you hit it on a good day you can hear lots of Promise Ring. And who doesn't love Promise Ring, right?? I know I do.

2003-02-24T21:50:00.000-05:00

burning down the house

WOO! We hit BOTH Kmart closing sales this weekend. When we got home today, it seems I'd left the stove on while we went to Sandusky. My chicken soup is burned to the bottom of the pot, which probably isn't non-stick anymore. Whoops. Anyway, I got Tristan some cute clothes. Plus, "Jenny From the Block" came on the radio just as we got back into town. It was thrilling.

2003-02-21T11:21:00.000-05:00

Oh. My. God. And. What. The. Fuck.

I. Woke. Up. To. Pee. This. Morning. And. There. Was. A. Dead. Mouse. IN! MY! TOILET!!!!!!!!

I don't think I can ever sleep again. Apparently, one of these three things happened between 4:30 am (when I peed, and there was no mouse) and 8:30 am, when I made my gruesome and horrific discovery...

My Theory: The mouse somehow backed up into the toilet..... yeah, right.

John's Theory: The mouse was out looking for his nightly drink, when BAM!! Fell into a sea of my unflushed pee-pee.

Third Scenario: One of our 3 Ferocious Kitty Cats attacked and killed Little Mousey (possible), then dropped him off into the potty for mother and dad to behold upon their wake (improbable).

Here are the two damndest things about this whole.....damned.....thing.

1. I can't remember if the toilet lid was up or down when I went into the bathroom. I almost *always* put it down after I'm done, and it *seems* like it was closed when I went in there... I couldn't even see straight this morning, so the details of the toilet were definitely not at the forefront of my mind. In fact, I didn't have my glasses on when I stumbled in there, so at first I just thought it was a weird turd floating around. I was all, "Oh, John left a turd, weird..." Then I thought, "Wait a minute, I'm the last one who used the bathroom, I'm almost positive... this turd must have backed up into the toilet." And then finally, "ACK! THIS TURD HAS A TAIL!!! BAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!"

2. On Wednesday night, John and I went and de-activated all the mousetraps he put in the attic two months ago because they were empty so we thus determined that we DID NOT HAVE A MOUSE. The bastid. He must have been waiting until we let our guard down.

So I of course didn't get a picture of the scene before we flushed Sir Mousey away, but for your delicious viewing pleasure, I have commissioned an artist's rendition from the wonderful Fuzzy Cootie, also known as .....me:

So I'm headed off to the doctor now to get a much-needed refill on my Prozac. Then I think I'm going to the mall. Nothing relieves the "OHMYGOD THERE'S A MOUSE IN MY TOILET"s like a trip to Baby Gap, right? If you need me later, you should be able to IM, because heaven knows I won't ever ever be sleeping ever, ever again.

2003-02-20T02:37:00.000-05:00

my nervous habits

1. I bite the skin on my fingers. Constantly. You could be sitting there in the parlor, trying to have a civilized conversation with me, and I'm going at my pointer like it's corn-on-the-cob. And I don't just nibble. There are calluses where my cuticles should be. It's gross.

2. I scratch at my head. This is gross, too. Especially right now, because it's winter and my scalp is dry and crusty. All day I catch myself knuckle-deep in ponytail, digging like hell at some imagined itch or bump or scale or flake or demon. I even smell my fingers afterward. How else will I know when it's time to shampoo?

3. I bite my lip. Once again, obsessively. I chaw and chew until there are gaping gashes in my soft kissy-flesh. My lips get so dry and crusty that my Lip Smackers run and hide.

4. I tap my feet/ bounce my legs/ wiggle my toes. More than one at the same time, even. I do this when I'm sitting at the computer, watching television, laying in bed, anywhere. I try not to do it at job interviews, though. Although they usually turn me away when they see my fingers anyway.

5. I click my teeth together so that they play a song. This one really bothers me, because if I do it very much I end up with a headache. I'll be sitting here typing away when all of the sudden I realize I'm playing Seven Mary Three with my incisors.

6. I rub my eyebrows backwards. You know, kind of like when you pet a dog the wrong way so his hair stands up on end. I *used* to groom both eyebrows simultaneously - imagine you're pulling your hair behind your ears, but do it with your brows instead - so I actually consider this an improvement. I only pet one brow at a time.

7. I pull my hair into an upsweep, then let it fall again. This might sound kind of minor, but watch someone do it 300 times in a row and THEN tell me how you feel about it.

8. I pick at zits and scabs. I realize that this, too, is utterly disgusting. But I just can't stop. If there is anything on my body that shouldn't be there, I must eradicate it at any cost. Except, of course, for my bearlike leg hair. That doesn't bother me in the least.

9. I play with my jewelry. Diamonds ARE a girl's best friend, after all. Who doesn't like to watch them sparkle, right? Okay, so that isn't so bad.... but I'm just getting you warmed up for the worst one:

10. I rub my genital area with the back of my thumb. Yes, that's right. Laugh all you want, I'm a compulsive masturbator. Well, not REALLY, but when I'm sitting here in my computer chair, my hand falls delicately into my lap. I don't even mean for it to happen, but it's kind of like being three years old and rocking back and forth on the floor while you're watching the Flintstones... it just feels right.

So there you go. Ten reasons why none of you will ever, ever speak to me again.

2003-02-18T23:13:00.000-05:00

hoarding

When I was a teenager and my brother was about 8 years old, I discovered that he had been stealing little things from everyone in the family (and probably kids at school, too) and hiding them under his pillow. He was always a little thief and a pyro - he stole cigarettes from my grandpa, and smoked them, when he was 7, and we always had to keep lighters hidden far away from the time he was a toddler on. Under his pillow I found rocks, matches, rubber bands, paper clips, toy cars, hi-bounce balls, money, keyrings, and a little pocket knife. But this post isn't about my poor, neglected, whacked-out baby brother. Oh no. This one's about Tristan.

Tristan's had a fascination with hiding things since before he could walk. He'd scoot across the floor with a cookie in his hand and toss it in the clean laundry basket for tomorrow (or, you know, two months from now). At every diaper change he would bring a toy along and gleefully drop it behind the dresser. So it was no surprise that when he started walking, he found a super-cool spot to drop things. Next to our entertainment center (a stately monstrosity of cherry-finish particle board that is the nicest piece of furniture we will probably ever own, courtesy of the in-laws), there is a stack of boxes that contains our still-unpacked collection of CDs. Behind that is a few inches of space , a floor lamp, and the wall. Tristan is obsessed with tossing anything and everything behind those boxes. Every night I have to engage in a massive recovery effort if I ever want to see his shoes again, or load up the dishwasher. Until recently, the boxes of CDs were taped shut. Then, John decided to make a CD DATABASE! containing a list of all the albums we own, what year they were released, who produced them and on what record label they were pressed. (Why? Because he's a boy. And he's been out of work for five months. Even Metroid Prime can't hold someone's interest for THAT long.) Anyway.

Tonight, Lisa asked me to recommend some good girl pop. I happily obliged, and asked John to fetch a few albums by that dog, The Cardigans, and Go Sailor (among others**) so I could pick the very best songs off each of them. Upon opening the C-thru-H box, he immediately beckoned me to the living room, so that I might have a look at this:

In this box we have, in no particular order:

2002 Ohio Candidate Requirements Pamphlet, flyer announcing a Breast-Feeding trailer at the county fair (yes, you DID read that correctly, a mobile home you could enter to whip out your tit), and a card reading "Stick With John! Re-Elect John Elmlinger Huron County Advisor" which used to contain a "stick" of gum.... these were all taken from a bag of junk I brought home from the county fair last summer, and handed Tristan in an act of desperation last week

Two pacifiers

Two cylindrical shape-sorter blocks

One toy tiger

A little toy sailor man

Water Squirting Duck and his pal, Water Squirting Frog

Red plastic ball

Dropper bottle of baby Tylenol

5-ounce baby bottle, half full of water - this has been missing since last Thursday. I assumed he had eaten it, like he did with all his socks.

Oh, and a Fugazi CD I took away from him about a month ago and dropped in there. Hey, at least he has good taste.

So apparently, this hoarding instinct runs in the family. Lucky, lucky me. Time to hide the matches.

**see also: Veruca Salt, Sam Phillips, Lisa Loeb, Velocity Girl, Lush, bis, Belly, and Luscious Jackson.

2003-02-18T04:33:00.000-05:00

like those cards on the table at wendy's

I got a comment thingy like all the other hepcats on my block. I hope you'll leave me a few.

2003-02-18T00:41:00.000-05:00

cat ass and cat breath

I just wanted to add that I think John is burning some cat ass or cat breath scented candles. It stinks in here.

2003-02-18T00:28:00.000-05:00

dead stores

I have a really strange, creepy fascination with stores that have gone out of business. I love it all. I'll beat down to any closing sale I can find - the last few days are like a wake for the utterly useless and ugly products that nobody wanted. (Except, of course, for me - I've scored some excellent iron-on transfers, ugly shoes, 80s pop cassettes, and old makeup in my day.) If we walk past an empty storefront, I feel it's my duty to peer inside and see if maybe an empty clothes rack, an old cash register, or a paper cup of half-consumed coffee were left behind. For some reason, I feel compelled to spend hours online, finding any information I can on shuttered stores and why they folded. Was it poor management? Employee theft?? Bad marketing decisions??? Zayre's. Ames. Hills. National Record Mart. Gold Circle. Montgomery Ward. Nobody cares about them anymore but me.... and this guy.

I found this "club" completely by accident, and I can't believe I didn't think of it first. It's so spookily delicious - pages of pictures of DEAD MALLS!! And what's more, they're even in my "neck of the woods", so to speak - good old Ohesia. It's beautiful. Look at all the empty stores!! I can't believe there's another weirdo out there who likes to look at closed stuff. In related news, there are *two* K-Mart stores going out of business within 30 miles of my house.... if anyone needs some Backstreet Boys folders or t-shirt puff paint, just let me know....

2003-02-11T19:30:00.000-05:00

i need more ram

Yesterday we were walking past Radio Shack when John jokingly asked, "Hey, wanna go buy a new computer?" and I replied "Tsch! Yeah! I need more RAM."

He laughed like a seventh grader.

the CD tower

Over the weekend, my husband graciously purchased a darling little 20-disc CD tower to help me corral the ungodly, Pisa-esque stacks of CDs that cover my entire desk. It even matches the black faux-wrought-iron stuff that the desk and its matching bookshelf are made of. In order from top to bottom, this is the list of albums in it - it should be noted that John is the one who stocked it. I would NEVER put them in order, but that's just the kind of guy that he is.

System of a Down Toxicity

Ash 1977

Neutral Milk Hotel In the Aeroplane Over The Sea

The Promise Ring Nothing Feels Good

The Promise Ring Very Emergency

The Strokes Is This It

Yaz Upstairs at Eric's

The White Stripes White Blood Cells

The White Stripes Self-Titled

The White Stripes De Stijl

Treble Charger Maybe It's Me

Depeche Mode The Singles 81-85

Hum You'd Prefer An Astronaut

Hum Downward is Heavenward

Jimmy Eat World Bleed American

Ben Kweller Sha Sha

Stephen Malkmus Self-Titled

Home Town Hero Self-Titled

More Than Electric yesterdaytodayandforever (This is our friend's Christian Rock band. I supposedly "won" their T-shirt design contest back in, like, June. WHERE'S MY SHIRT TOMMY?!?!)

Glifted Under and In

Denali Self-Titled

a CD-R that is just labeled "HUM" - I have no idea what this is as we already own every Hum album

For Squirrels Baypath Road

The case from For Squirrels Example, quite possibly the best album of all time, which I still have not replaced - it was in my portable CD player when it was stolen from my car in November. :(

An envelope with my friend Becky's address on it, which I am always losing

A scrap of paper with a bunch of addresses I don't need anymore, and Zach Slate's email

A free sample package of ThermaCare Heat Wraps, those patch things that heat up and you wear them for "cramps"

I'm definitely not bragging. Where's the My Bloody Valentine? The SDRE? I don't even like some of these discs. And as you can plainly see, I can't even keep the clutter away for a day. Shame, shame on me.

2003-02-09T01:12:00.000-05:00

sleepy musings and random song lyrics

Gwen says I should blog again. I've personally never even spoken to Gwen, but I know many others who hold her in high regard. Plus, she's adorable.

I hear words and quips and phrases
I think sick like ginger ale
my stomach turns and I exhale

I really prefer serif fonts. I wonder why I don't use one here?

It's gonna take a lot to drag me away from you
There's nothing that a hundred men or more could ever do

(I am in complete awe that those are the actual lyrics to "Africa". I always thought they were something more..... poetic.)

I can't live without Prozac. Isn't that a bitch?

bop bop ba da da da da da da da da
doo doo doodoo doo doo doo doo and you

I buy Tristan new socks every two weeks. There are never any of Tristan's socks in the wash. I am convinced that Tristan is eating his socks.

thoity doity boids
sittin on the coib
choipin and boipin and eatin doity oithwoims

I can't think of anything else I would like to say. I need to go to sleep.

2002-08-06T18:19:00.000-04:00

Things I Am Learning

I was meant to have red hair.

My belly is CUTE. No, really.

I look really good in lavender.

I do NOT look really good in ivory.

Fudgesicles may be the only thing that taste better with Nutrasweet instead of Sugar.

I need a girlfriend.

You can broil chicken! It's good that way!!

I should breastfeed.

Prozac and birth control pills are poison; chocolate is not.

Ulcers suck.

Scars are so cool. I don't even NEED a tattoo.

Extremely callused feet make for a pleasant walk in the gravel.

Being married is hard, hard work.

Being a parent makes everything harder.

People need sleep.

Pizza is sooooooo good.

2002-04-23T22:42:00.000-04:00

Holy jeez! I can't believe it's been, like, a MONTH since the last time I posted. Moving is hard work. So is being a mommy!! And being a wife, don't even get me STARTED on that one. Anyway... I just realized that both Louis and Kate are out of town this week. Not that it's that big of a deal since I hardly ever get to talk to them anyway, but it still sucks. No wonder I'm so bored that I have a chance to post here. Anyway...

We're living in this house, but the lady who owns it decided to put it back on the market, even though we want to buy it. We can't right now because no one would give us a loan. We have too many bills. :( So there've been people traipsing through my lovely abode filled with boxes and dead ladybugs with the puffy-haired realtor lady who said she can sell it to us in three months of we pay off our shit. She's a nice lady, don't get me wrong... it's just odd because her name is Darlene, which is my ex-boyfriend/current friend Eli's mother's name, and they both have that damn "Darlene Hair" - long and curly and fluffy and dyed blonde and smelling like a LOT of product.

So much is new with the kid. He just won't stop growing!! I think we should have named him Clifford. He has outgrown nearly all of his 3-6 month clothes, all of his size 2 shoes, his bouncy seat, his swing, his infant-carrier-slash-car-seat, his infant tub, his Boppy Gym, his mobile, and God only knows what else in a few short weeks. He can roll over, tries soooooooo hard to scoot (but just ends up spinning in circles on his tummy), and can sit pretty well by himself, though of course he can't pull himself to a sitting position yet. And he LOVES the three new tastes in his life - Rice "Cereal" (they call it cereal because it's a grain, but really it's bland mush), Gerber Tooth and Gum Cleanser (applied to the gums on the coolest French-Tickler finger thing), and Baby Orajel. Yep, not only is he eating and bathing like a big boy, he's getting teethers, too. Could I *be* any luckier??

Here are his current favorites, just cause I know you want to know... He loves to watch Maisy!! We just got Digital Cable, and the Noggin channel, like, ROCKS. Maisy's on, and Kipper, and about 972 variations of Sesame Street. Then at night, they play CLARISSA!!! I loved that show when I was a kid, man. Anyway, who cares what I like, this was supposed to be the Tristan Blurb. He *loves* The Eye Book and One Fish Two Fish Red Fish Blue Fish, but Fox in Socks makes him CRY!! He gets really bored with There's a Wocket in my Pocket, and he despises anything with pictures of real animals unless they are cats or dogs. Birds, bunnies, and anything else you might see in the woods make him scream out in horror. He also digs all those books with the pictures of real babies dressed up as things. Tristan seems to think reading and eating are the two FUNNEST GAMES EVER. When he doesn't like a book I am reading to him, he'll close the cover and push it away. When he REALLY likes a certain picture, he reaches out to turn the page or close the cover so he can stare at it some more. And eating.... LOL!! That rice cereal must taste like heaven or something. He pulls my hand (holding full spoon) toward his mouth and opens his mouth T H I S W I D E, eagerly shoveling the mooshy sweetness in. Next, he gives me this SUPER HUGE grin as half of the spoonful plops out of his mouth and onto me, his clothes, the cat, whatever is nearby. Then he pushes my hand and spoon away until he's ready for another bite, at which time the same process starts all over again. Babies rule.

So anyway, I'll be around. I'm going to bed now, as my husband has not been nearly as helpful as usual lately, which means I am completely exhausted by two hours ago. My pillow awaits.

2002-03-27T19:43:00.000-05:00

Well, we *finally* got the keys to our new house today. I just went over there with my ma to check things out. What a high! That place is soooooo huge. I'm disappointed we won't be getting to paint and things before we move in, but there's enough room that we can just move out of whatever room we need to fix for a couple of days whenever we get a chance to work on it. It's that big. Seriously. Anyway, I oughta go pack some stuff.....

2002-03-26T02:15:00.000-05:00

The Top Ten Worst Days of My Life...

1. Getting In a Car Wreck, Age 3
2. Getting In a Car Wreck, Age 8
3. Getting In a Car Wreck, Age 17
4. Getting Molested, Age 11
5. Getting Date-Raped, Age 14
6. Launching Self From Moving Car, Age 16
7. Mom's Icky Boyfriend is Moving In, Age 15
8. Mom's Icky Boyfriend is In My Closet, Age 16
9. Breaking Up With Eli, age 16
10. My Dad Almost Dies While I'm 300 Miles Away, age 15
11. The Trip With Eli Where We Went To Michigan to See Sloan and He Got Punched In The Face By Some Drunk Canadian And Had To Go To The Emergency Room, and We Never Did Get To See Sloan, And Then We Made A Wrong Turn On The Way Home And Almost Ended Up In Indiana, Age 16
12. There Is A Misunderstanding About Me Having Sex Or Saying That I Had Sex With Tim, and My Very Best Friend Decides She Hates Me When I In Fact Did Nothing Wrong, Age 16
13. My First Stepdad, Kevin, Kicks In My Bedroom Door, Age 11
14. My Mom Comes To School To Tell Me My Dad Moved Out and Today We Are Moving In With Grandma and Grandpa, Age 7
15. My Mom And I Are Driving And She Tells Me She Is Pregnant With a Baby That Is Not My Dad's, Age 7
16. My Mom Hates Me And Says I Am Abandoning Her Because I Move Out Of Her Abusive Household, Age 18
17. I Do Not Get The Part I Deserve In The School Musical Because Another Girl Is Prettier Than Me, Age 17
18. My Choir Teacher Soon After Is Fired For Coming On To A Girl, Age 17
19. Took a Pee Test and Found Out I Was Pregnant, Age 15
20. Got My Period and Was No Longer Pregnant, Age 15
21. Got Grounded From Church Because I Did Not Unload The Dryer; Subsequently Tried To Stab Myself to Death With a Kitchen Knife, Age 17
22. Went To Therapy For The First Time, Age 22
23. John and I Almost Break Up, Age 21
24. John's Mother Tells Us Our Friend Chad Morrow Has Died, Age 19
25. I Find Out From John's 15-Year-Old Brother That My Best Friend Is Pregnant And Did Not Tell Me, Age 20
26. Big Fight With John Followed By Stressful Day At Mall Getting Bad Pictures Taken, Age 22
27. At Alicia Weisenberger's Slumber Party, a Large Wooden Block Is Thrown At My Head And I Must Act As If It Does Not Hurt, Age 13
28. I Do Not Get Into Pops Ensemble, Age 14
29. My Friend Kimberly Dies Of Leukemia, And I Do Not Get To Say Goodbye, Age 8
30. Andrea Lortcher, Dee Smith, and Jill Sowders Pick On Me and Threaten To Beat Me Up For No Reason Other Than That I Am A Lonely, Scared, and Ugly Fifth Grader, Age 10

Those are just the ones that really stand out....

2002-03-26T01:51:00.000-05:00

Sucks. I'm sooooo tired. I went to bed two and a half hours ago, but got up at 12:30, because obviously, I was still awake. I HATE that, because it's like, I completely wasted SO much time. I wasn't sleeping, and I wasn't getting anything done either... hey, kinda like now! Well, whaddaya know. I want to go eat some Chocula, but I'm not sure if it's cause I'm hungry, or just cause I'm depressed. There is sooooo much to do this week... yesterday we went to get Tristan's pictures done, which was almost a total bust. Even though they usually manage to fuck *something* up, and you never get in until at LEAST a half-hour after your appointment, I chose to again give The Picture People my business. I'm sure you can already figure out where this is going, can't you? There is this really, REALLY weird lady who works there. She kind of seems mentally challenged in some way, she's loud and has some kind of weird speech impediment thing where you can barely understand her (not to mention her voice is nails-on-the-chalkboard cloying [okay, so nails on the chalkboard don't bother me personally in the least - it's a good analogy, anyway] ), and - the MOST ANNOYING THING - she calls every female "Mom".

That's right, when me and John went in a few years ago to have "couple pictures" done, I heard a lady who kept saying "Okay, Mom, now if you could just come over here and fill this out, MOM, Oh hang on MOM, we're very busy, MOM." At first I thought she was talking to her OWN mother, then I was like, Oh, I get it - she's talking to the Mom of the group, you know, like "Dad, sit over here, Mom, stand next to him, Kids, you sit on the floor in front of them." I can handle that, I thought. That's somewhat normal. But then I went up to the desk to ask how much longer it would be, as we'd already been waiting for an hour, and she said....... "JUST A MINUTE, MOM, AND I'LL GO SEE, OK, MOM?!?" I was dumbfounded. Did I *look* like a mom? Was someone else's kid hanging onto my leg? Is there a head hanging out of my skirt? ...... Anyway, she didn't photograph us that day (which, did I mention, was the SECOND time we had been there in two weeks, because the first set of pictures we had done was COMPLETELY out of focus?!), this really pretty young chick did. But, her pictures were boring and sucked. The first time we went, the chick did all kinds of Fun Christmas Poses, with Santa hats and fake presents and so much mistletoe. This time, when we had Miss Stephy, she was like, okay, you sit here and he sits there. *SNAP* Okay, now switch places... *SNAP* Great. Now, go back the way you were before. *SNAP* I'm exaggerating a bit - she IS, after all, the one responsible for our famous "piggyback-ride photo" - but anyway, I was not too impressed. Fast forward a year or so... we take our 6-week-old kid to get his first pictures. *Please please please don't let us get the annoying lady* "OKAY, MOM, YOU CAN GO AHEAD AND GO IN THE BIG ROOM IN THE BACK! I'LL BE RIGHT IN, MOM!" But man, that woman took one HELL of a picture. Or five of them, to be exact. Set us back almost $200.

Which brings me to yesterday. Tristan was being a big crank for some reason, and John and I were both incredibly stressed out due to a combination of no sleep + fighting all weekend. And who do we get for our photographer? Why, it's PRINCESS STEPHY! She of the pleasant demeanor and the boring, boring photo. And she certainly did prove herself... she did four "different" shots of Tristan laying in a beanbag chair. I use the term "different" very loosely, as the only thing different about each pose was his outfit and the color of the blanket on the beanbag chair. When she pulled down the hideous fake-clouds background, I wanted to cry right then and there. Tristybean finally chilled out toward the end, and there was a cute shot of his face while his daddy was ticklin' his toeses. Then we did a family pic, and went to walk around the mall. That was fun - I bought Tristan a few things and John didn't even yell at me. Woo! Anyway, long story short (hahaha, right), we went back to the picture place, there was only one good shot, and NO family picture. I'm like, um, we had a family picture done, where is it? So the chick who brought out our pictures goes up to the desk and all quiet-like goes, "Ummm, do you know what happened with their family picture?" And LoudMouth CuntWhore in the Technicolor Dream-Beanie goes, "OH, THAT WAS THE ONE WHERE IT WAS THE END OF THE ROLL AND IT DIDN'T COME OUT!" I am like, "what", just totally dead-on serious because I am SO pissed, this is like in the top 5 worst days of my life. Well, maybe not, I'll try those at the end... So real loud I say, "Well, that really sucks" and LMCH says (shouts),"IT'S NOT THE PHOTOGRAPHER'S FAULT, SHE HAS NO WAY OF KNOWING WHEN THE ROLL IS GOING TO END" I'm like, "well, that doesn't make me feel any better!" Jesus Christ, is this ROCKET SCIENCE? I don't know what kind of fancy-ass cameras they're using, but I know when I'm out of film, my little Advantix camera sure does let me know. Hell, even the 110 I had when I was a kid would stop when the roll was done. So anyway, I got a coupon for next time. Fortunately, the one photo that did come out is SUPER adorable...

Click here to see the picture that made the day worthwhile...

2002-03-21T00:33:00.000-05:00

Oh, just one more thing. What is it with celebrities changing the PRONUNCIATION of their names? Kirsten Dunst used to be "Ker-sten Dunst," which makes perfect sense, as that is clearly the way her name is spelled. But now that she's grown up, all of a sudden she's KEER-stin. Kierstin. Then there's Ah-lee-shah Silverstone, oh wait, I mean AH-LEE-SEE-AH. Give me a break, sweetie, your name's Alicia, deal with it. If your mom wanted to call you Ahleeseeah, don't you think that would have been your name? And don't even get me started on De-MEE Moore. And the kid from Malcolm in the Middle (By the way, folks: Malcolm should ALWAYS have two L's. "Malcom" looks like a retard filled out the birth certificate. Which, if you are in fact a retard, is perfectly acceptable.) - is he Frankie MOO-nyiz or Frankie MYOO-niz? Nobody seems to know. And who names their poor kid Frankie, anyway?

2002-03-21T00:12:00.000-05:00

So I have nothing to do except this. Okay, actually that's a big fat lie: I have SO much to do that I'm avoiding all responsibility by coming on here and typing shit. Woo! We're supposed to be moving next weekend, but we don't have the keys to the new place yet, and I want to get in there and paint and stuff... the lady we're supposed to be renting from is REALLY trying to get us to buy the house, which we would do if we could afford it. But we can't. It's making me nervous because I'm really afraid she is going to decide not to rent it after all, and then we'll be screwed. I guess I shouldn't worry, as that is completely outside the realm of my control, but still.

So this weekend was way big. We went to like 20 stores on Saturday *and* visited John's Granny, then on Sunday I threw a baby shower for my friend Stacey. It was rawkin. She got all kinds of cute little girl clothes!! There was this one really bitchy fat lady there, though - I believe she was a relative of the grandma-in-law - and she kept complaning because she wasn't winning any of the games, then when she won one, she was complaining because everyone could only get one prize. Like, hello, what are you, fifty? And you're mad because EVERYONE gets one prize before anyone gets two? As I have said before, GROW THE FUCK UP! Then she was bitching during the Bingo game, because we declared that a romper and a sleeper were NOT the same thing, and WHY HASN'T SHE OPENED UP ANY BOTTLES? Jeez, lady, if you're that desperate to get a bunch of crap from the dollar store, here's a fiver on me, just DROP OFF YOUR PRESENT AND GET THE HELL OUT! (Not that my prizes were crap, I'm just saying....) The only other big disappointment was that everyone started leaving after the gift they personally brought was opened, and they left out the back door, and I forgot to tell them all to take one of the favors John and I so meticulously assembled at 3 o'clock that morning, so I had about 20 extra packets of Baby Shower Shower Gel. You should see them. They're darling.

And I haven't done anything I need to do. We SO need to get our taxes done, and I needed to get Tristan's pictures taken before Easter, because it's going to look REALLY stupid to give out bunny-suit photos the following week. I guess I don't have to clean the house now cause we're just going to pick up the mess and dump it off in the other house, LOLOL. But a clean coffee mug would be nice, as I burned the piss out of my hand on this Solo cup. And I would love to be able to go to Tristan's shelf and from it pluck a burp cloth, instead of running to the dryer with spitup running down my arm, ya know?

So if I like the Baby Gap stuff with the chicks on it better than the stuff with the cars, will people think that I'm a bad mother? That my child is going to be gay? I hate all the boy crap with trucks and trains and sports bullshit on them. I mean, some of it can be good, when tastefully done, but some of it so overtly "LOOK MY KID IS A BOY A BOY A BOY" that I just want to slap the mullet-sporting Budweiser-shirt-wearing corporal-punishment-using parents who put their poor kids in it. Anyway, I think it's okay - no, I think it's SUPER - for my kid to wear clothes with chicks and bunnies on them. He's a BABY. And it'll be okay for him to play with dollies, too. And if he wants trucks, obviously, he can have trucks, too, but I'm not going to buy him a 2.99 sweatshirt at Ames that says "TRUCKS RULE" and has one of those jacked-up Broncos with the Truckasaurus tires on it, kicking up dirt, dammit. I'm not white trash. Honest. You gotta believe me. Seriously. For real doh.

2002-03-12T23:48:00.000-05:00

So here's the idiotic money-waster for today: At 3 am or so, as I was searching iVillage for some info on how to make your pussy stop hurting after having a baby so you can have some of the sex, I came across a pop-up ad: "Take Our All New In-Depth IQ Test!" Now, we already discussed how I'm a total masochist when it comes to things that purport to reveal little known secrets about the REAL me, so I happily took the "free" test. It said I had an IQ of 143 (the highest score you could get and still be considered "highly intelligent" or something like that, which of course led me to consider re-taking the darn thing, until I realized I'd surely do worse next time) and that I could order my DETAILED REPORT, outlining ALL of my personal strengths and weaknesses, with NEAT BAR GRAPHS, for the low low price of just $9.95!!! I thought maybe I'd come back and do the whole thing again later, especially since I was deliriously tired and probably didn't do my best. Then I thought, that is SO COOL, I want to see mine!! But John will be so mad at me!! For spending $10 on this crap!! But wait!! At least it's not porn!! YEAH!! You can see my results here. I don't know how long they'll be available before I have to pay another ten bucks, so you'd better go check them out. I was really surprised, as I thought I had GOOD intuition and POOR spatial skills. Maybe they gave me the wrong profile...

In other news: Also spent money on a couple of really cute and super cool Cabbage Patch Kids storybooks at this new dollar store. I can't link to them because I can't find them anywhere online, but they are SO COOL. For any Cabbie-oriented folk who might be reading this, they have photos of Kids from the Coleco Designer and Transitional lines all the way thru the first or second edition Mattel kids. The back covers say there are two more books in the series - I think I may have found my latest quest...

Oh, and I got the orange sweatpants and blue shoes I needed to go with Tristan's Old Navy shirt that has the planets on it, and GLOWS IN THE DARK, which I did not know! Fuck Yeah! My kid's a space cadet!! WOO!

2002-03-12T06:39:00.000-05:00

You know what I bet would be really, really good? Crunchy cat food with, like, tuna-flavored marshmallows. Know what is really, really good? This bowl of Count Chocula I'm eating. It's amazing what you think of when you don't sleep at night....

2002-03-11T22:41:00.000-05:00

So I was just checking out the newly-updated blogs, and came across some guy's post about this Colorgenics personality test. Well, everybody loves a personality test, and lord knows I'm a masochist, so I decided to take it. You look at eight lovely rotating 3-D cubes, each a different color, and pick the ones you are most "in harmony with". (It's a little new-agey, with generic Enya-style music playing in the background. I recommend doing this in a completely darkened room. Very, how you say, Zen?) Anyway, here's what my color choices revealed about me:

You are striving for a life full of activity and experience, and perhaps what is even more, an environment where you would be able to forge a close bond with a person who can offer full emotional fulfilment.

Rejection is a core element in your present lifestyle. This fear of rejection has created a shield around you that makes you unapproachable. You are looking for approval and acknowledgement, but above all you are looking for people who can appreciate you for who and what you are.

The present situation, not of your making, is forcing you to compromise. You will have to hold back and forgo some of your hopes, dreams and aspirations...

You pretend that you are a carefree individual and that nothing really bothers you .. that you are so self-sufficient that whatever problems beset you - they simply flow off you as water flows of a ducks back... You are experiencing considerable stress, trying to conceal yourself from the rest of the world. In actual fact - deep down, you are not at all happy. You feel lonely and you need someone with whom you can "Let your hair down" and share your hopes, dreams and high standards... You are imposing unnecessary self restraint on yourself. You would like to demonstrate the unique quality of your character to all and sundry.

Whatever you have tried to do seems to have gone wrong and you are now quite convinced that there is little point of formulating new objectives and it is this belief that has resulted in the stress and anxiety. You would like to be able to communicate with other people who think as you do. At this time there seems to be no-one on the horizon nor is there any prospect of meeting anyone in the immediate future. But it must be said that you are really a "trier" and indications are that you will .... as indeed you have in the past "bounce back".

Huh.