Getting older is a bitch. I've always liked older men, but suddenly I find myself lusting after 30 year old boys. I think, when did I start liking younger guys? And when did I get so frigging old that I began thinking of 30 year olds as BOYS? The most insulting thing of all: when did I become a "Ma'am" damn it?!!
All right, who's the wise guy that told Paris Hilton we have military in Afghanistan?
I'm damn sure she didn't know that on her own. Stop the presses, Paris is halting her appeal. And she ought to. Hell, she ought to be ashamed of herself not being able to do 20+ lousy days. The most hilarious part of her statement was when she said, "I must also say that I was shocked to see all of the attention devoted
to the amount of time I would spend in jail for what I had done by the media, public and city officials." Shocked or elated? Yes, the rest of the world is shocked, too.....at the amount of effort and histrionics she put in trying to avoid facing up to her responsiblities. I KNOW this sudden about face means she's going to bore the world with a damn book. Or at least, an appearance on Okra.
Overtime Hawg, to me yesterday evening: "Why don't you give me your cell phone number? That way I can reach you in an emergency."
What? Annoying the fark out of me at home isn't enough?
I said sure, but I'll pretend to forget. If she pushes, I'll give her a cell phone number all right.
But it ain't gonna be mine. She's got a "real" cell phone. I have a Trac Fone, which means I pay by the minute whether
she calls me or I call her. AND I don't have any "free" minutes. I have no interest in paying to talk to her. I don't even want to talk to her for free.
I came in to work last night and right up she said, "Will you do blah blah for me? I don't feel good, that's why I didn't do it." WTF?
We all know how annoying Martha Stewart can be, but I want to kvetch about a MUCH MORE ANNOYING mother on tv: the chick in the Viva ads.
We've all seen the commercial: the kid, who apparently has NO common sense, takes a 2 liter of orange soda from the fridge and shakes it like a Polariod picture. His mother turns and he blasts her in the face with the soda. There's a moment of silence when he stares at her, expecting a good tongue lashing--and rightly so!
At that point, I'd be polishing up the paddle and doing my stretching warm-ups, so I wouldn't fatigue before I was finished administering a well deserved paddling.
Mother says, "Bobby! That's not the way you do it. THIS is how you do it," and she blasts him with the
water sprayer in the sink, while he, in turn, laughs and blasts her back with the soda. The sticky, insect attracting soda.
Who writes this drivel? No mother in this country would laugh at her kid spraying sticky, orange soda
all over her damn kitchen, even IF she does use absorbing Viva towels.
Then it shows HER cleaning up. Yeah, right. I'd boot his ass into a giftless Christmas, and the damn soda right along with him.
There was a story on CNN this morning about a boy who was dying with cancer and his last wish was to kill a bear. So this hunting club arranged for him and his dad to come in and shoot the bear. The boy died some hours later. I don't know how I feel about this. An innocent animal was slaughtered for what reason?
This is how Mr. G so lovingly asked me if I wanted to partake of some blissful lovemaking yesterday:
"Want sex? Speak now or forever hold your peace."
Cue up the Barry White music.
How could I ignore that erotic request?
On last night's evening news, they were discussing the fact that a "popular bagpipe band" would be performing at an area event. "Popular bagpipe band"....there's an oxymoron for ya.
The offspring have decided to pony up and use their one chance to save their sorry asses from Summer Camp Hell. There's a class
called "Ooey, Gooey, and Good To Eat," and one of them must attend with me, then I'll relent on the camps
I've chosen for them, and let them attend the ones they picked.
They're drawing straws as we speak and the shortest straw holder is the "lucky" "winner".
The only drawback is that the class concerns "edible chemistry experiments."
You all know Goddess is not a lover of science. Or math. Or history. Or geography.
Several other subjects are iffy as well. American Government, Law, Political Science, blah blah blah.
So if "Ooey, Gooey, and Good To Eat" is a class where we make bubble gum and marshmallow peeps, I'm gonna spit.
I've taken that class more often than the "Grow Your Own Pot At Home In The Closet" camp.
I think they hold the same damn class every year. They just disguise it with a new name.
One year it was called "Let's Eat Peeps!" and I thought it was a cooking class.
I went so far as to take a jar of gravy and some mashed pa'taters with me, anxious to eat them succulent little chickens. Imagine my disappointment.
Mashed pa'taters and gravy don't go well with marshmallow peeps.
Female Offspring #6 has already chosen a camp she wants to attend called, "Down on the Farm," where they'll explore the world of farm animals.
I know some guys who have "explored the world of farm animals," but that's a different camp all together.
It was called "Goin' Down on the Farm". E I E I OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO...use more lube next time.
In addition to farm animals, at "Down on the Farm," the kids will learn about "fruits and vegetables and investigate farm equipment."
Kids will also learn how to give cows artificial growth hormone shots, and then
they'll learn how to lie and say, "NO, our cows have NOT been given artificial growth hormones" with a perfectly straight face.
"Investigating farm equipment" involves learning which appendage you can and cannot safely put into a moving fan blade.
I guess a pass or failure grade depends on whether or not you come home with all your fingers and toes....and other
stuff they shouldn't be yanking out down on the farm.
Male Offspring #4 wants to attend "Let's Have a Luau". They're going to learn to make leis with Hawaiian flowers,
then they'll hunt down an innocent pig--possibly a pig from over at the "Down on the Farm" camp--slaughter it and roast it on a spit.
One lucky kid will get the opportunity to
shove the apple in the pig's mouth. M.O. #4 is holding out hopes that he's the chosen one. I always knew he was "special."
Male Offspring #6 is in hog heaven--no pun intended--because he's found an "Awesome Art"
camp that primarily employs the use of "yarn and twine" in picture making. One can only wonder
what sort of twine art you can make, but hey, if it keeps him busy and out of my hair, I'm all for it.
In all this camp planning, I didn't even realize my neighbor was having a camp, and I could have sent all the offspring over there for free.
Their kids both attended "Sit On the Grass and Watch Dad Side The New Garage For Three Hours" camp. Fun for all ages!