Saturday, October 31, 2009
Notes from Trick or Treating
Dear Teenage Boy Wearing a Banana Costume -First of all, the correct response to my query of "is it peanut butter jelly time?" was not rolling your eyes and sneering "yeah". You're the one dressed like a 2-year-old internet meme, don't get snotty with me about that.
Second, you're about 5 years too old to be out begging for candy. Go read a book or something.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
My kid cracks me up - he went up to a house (a house with fall decorations AND porch lights on) and knocked politely. Five seconds later, the next door neighbor walks out of HIS house and yells (in a kind of rude manner) "NOBODY'S HOME RIGHT NOW!!!!" (exclamation points and all)
My kid trudges down the front steps and falls into step with me as he says "Then they shouldn't have their _______ porch lights on!"
I stopped in the middle of the street. "What did you say?"
"I said they shouldn't have their _______ porch lights on!"
And, yes, he left the little bleeped out spot in his sentences.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In the begging for candy, my kid dragged home about 700 pounds of candy. Add to that the 400 pounds I bought to give out (of which we passed out about 5 pieces) and we've got enough candy for the next three Halloweens.
Labels: adventures in shitty parenting
Trick or Treat, Yo
I'm aware that the time of my child's life when I am allowed to have some input into his Halloween costume is drawing to a close, but I still try.
Me: Hey, wouldn't Shaun of the Dead be a super cool costume?
My Kid: Um... no, I want to be a rapper.
Me: *exaggerated eye-roll because, let's face it, while he may have a collection of Nike Basketball shoes that would rival Jay-Z, and be able to recite Lil' Wayne's entire body of work, he's still just a skinny white kid with insanely long eyelashes* Maybe we could put a little something extra into it - what about a Zombie Rapper?
My Kid: Yeah, I guess
Labels: adventures in shitty parenting
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
[clever title]*
[amusing anecdote about how someone in my life is being funny/obtuse/ridiculous/jackasinine/adorable][sarcastic commentary on above anecdote]
[obscure pop culture reference]
[appropriate clip art image blatantly stolen from Google]
*alternate title: "Sometimes It Would Be Nice To Have An Anonymous Blog". I'm just sayin'.
Sunday, October 25, 2009
What does it mean when an email containing the following passage:Last night, I dreamed we were lesbos. Don't worry, you were the
lipstick one. Kidding about the second part. WTF, though?
lipstick one. Kidding about the second part. WTF, though?
is one of the least weird emails I get in a week?
Saturday, October 24, 2009
Things that can fuck right off today
Me - for spending Saturday night Googling to find out how to remove tint from my car windowsMe (again) - for forgetting to eat breakfast 3 days out of the past week. Chips and guacamole at noon is not a balanced breakfast.
Avocados - I love them, but I was gifted 24 of them last week and I think I'm turning into one
My boobs - for getting smaller as a result of the jogging and other assorted exercise I've been doing lately
The sandy dirt from my yard - because it's EVERYWHERE in my house, no matter how many times I sweep it up, it's back.
The short kid on my kid's basketball team - for not being able to shoot a basket to save his life and for being dumb enough to try to bully the tallest kid on the team (my kid)(he's just lucky my child grew up with me, so has the patience of a saint and has yet to punch the little creep)
The letter "e" - Just because
Labels: boobs
Friday, October 23, 2009
It's a good news/bad news situation
The good news - I made a spectacularly authentic block of Muenster cheese in a mere 2 weeks.The bad news - "authentic" Muenster cheese tastes like dirty socks soaked in bile.
You would think the cheesemaking book might put in a little disclaimer in recipes - something like "just FYI, this cheese tastes like barf and will leave a an aftertaste in your mouth that is similar to the one you get after a long weekend of drinking in Downtown Vegas"
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Really?
Dickhead California Highway Patrol Officer: Do you know why I pulled you over today?Me: (Because I was going 20mph in a 15mph school zone? In my defense, the sign said 15 when children are present and there were no children present) *confused smile and shrug*
D-CHiP: You failed to stop at the stop sign at Royal Oak
Me: *even more confused because I totally DID stop there, I remember specifically because I had just seen a cute house for rent and when I stopped, I made a mental note of the street name so I could remember* Uh... really?
D-CHiP: And your windows are illegally tinted
Me: *looking around my vehicle to see if my cluttered Honda Element (with FACTORY FUCKING TINT ON THE FUCKING WINDOWS) has been magically transformed into some limo-tinted '67 Impala that smells like marijuana* Uh... really?
I hand over my license and registration.
D-CHiP: I'm going to let you off with a warning for failure to stop, but I'm going to write you a [some name I don't remember for a Fix-It ticket]
Me: Really? I mean, really?
D-CHiP: This tinting is illegal. In the state of California, you are not allowed anything more than a clear UV coating.
Me: But... This is factory tint. And when I got my car registered, the DMV didn't say anything about it.
D-CHiP: Did you actually take the vehicle in to the DMV?
Me: (REALLY???) Uh.... yeah. I brought the car from out of state, so I had to take it in for inspection.
D-CHiP: *thinks for a moment* Those inspections are more for the VIN numbers
Me: *watching EVERY SINGLE OTHER VEHICLE ON THE ROAD whiz past with windows tinted infinitely darker than mine* Um... really?
D-CHiP repeats that he's not giving me a ticket for the *alleged* failure to stop and takes my paperwork back to his car.
So, Officer 70s-Porn-Mustache takes something like
COURT!
Here's my issue - if I actually did run a stop sign (WHICH, AGAIN, I TOTALLY DIDN'T) isn't that slightly more of a danger to the public (ESPECIALLY IN A SCHOOL ZONE) than the factory fucking tint on my windows that don't even really keep it cool?
Also - in everything I find online, it states that the California law is that the window must be at least 70% clear. I can't find anything that says it can't be anything but clear. Even the DMV websites says 70%.
Fuck tha poe-leece. (not really, just that guy)
Saturday, October 03, 2009
How I got locked out of my house in my pajamas.
So, this afternoon, while the husband and child were off at some sporting event, I was working on my newest hobby, making cheese*&**, when I looked out the kitchen window to see the neighbor's scroungy little mutt ambling across my yard.We have lots of stray-ish dogs in my neighborhood and they all seem to find their way over to our house - I'm fine with that, always willing to hang out with the pups and/or spare a dog biscuit***- but this dog is a little fucker - always getting loose, always barking at leashed dogs, and always in a grumpy mood - seriously, this little thing won't let anyone get close to it, but he has decided that our front yard is the perfect toilet.
Now, I'd mention to the neighbor/owner that the dog is always stray and always crapping in my yard, but that house is home to 3-4 families, none of whom seem to speak English and I can't be arsed to learn how to say "keep your dog and his feces in your own yard" in Spanish, so there is that.
I see the little furball sniffing around the yard, looking for a place to crouch and I toss down my cheese press, race to the door and run outside, ignoring the fact that I'm wearing pajamas**** and my hair is still wet from a shower.
"Get off my lawn," I yell at the little dog who barks at me and steps off the grass onto the street.
I turn to go back into the house and the dog trots back onto my lawn. By this time, my dogs can hear the dogs collar jangling, so they're getting all "OMG-SOMEONE-IS-ON-OUR-PROPERTY!!!!!"
"Go home, you're not going to shit here today!" I yell at the little fucker.
He runs in the general direction of his house, stops, looks back to see if I'm still watching, runs over to my mailbox, raises his leg and pees.
"Go!" I holler at him..
He takes off across the street and I, satisfied that he's gone, turn around to go back and work on my cheese some more.
Except that the door is locked.
How is the deadbolt locked? I'm the only one home and I certainly didn't bring my keys out with me.
I hear my dog jumping up on the door again and realize that he must be the exact right height to have hit the deadbolt and turned it far enough to lock it.
Awesome.
Briefly, I ponder how long it would take for me to train him to jump up again, hit the other side of the lock and unlock the door for me. Keeping in mind, of course, that I'm wearing pink and orange striped pajama bottoms (with a hole in the butt) and a baggy Brontosaurus t-shirt.
Then I remember that, unless the cat has locked it, the back door is always unlocked.
Crisis averted.
But still.
My. Dog. Locked. Me. Out. Of. The. House.
*yes, making cheese. Yes, I'm pretty much Amish now
** I've mastered mozzarella and my first round of Muenster will be ready in about a week - jealous? I know
*** and in the case of Spencer, the soaking wet Golden Retriever, spend an afternoon tracking down his family only to have them not know that he was even missing
**** yes, I was wearing my pajamas at 4PM on a Saturday afternoon. Because my life is wildly exciting
Labels: suzy fucking homemaker
Thursday, October 01, 2009
Dear My Landlord,
While I appreciate you saving a few bucks by hiring college guys to work on the landscaping at my residence, do they always have to be hot, shirtless and gleaming with sweat?Oh, wait...
Nevermind.
Carry on.
Labels: letter to