A request

My father went in for a risky back surgery this morning. I've gotten word that he made it through ok, and is now in recovery. We won't know for several hours if it was a success or not, but the odds say that there's a chance he could be paralyzed, or that there will be no improvement at all over his current condition.

If you're a person who prays, please say one for him.

I figure a heathen like me doesn't have too much pull with The Big Guy, and can use all the help I can get. Thank you. :)

4 Things

That son-of-a-bitching-bastard LoveBoatCaptain tagged me yet again.


Four jobs I’ve had in my life:

1. Receptionist for a doctor who couldn't speak, nor write, English
2. Various clerical jobs at an insurance company
3. Package handling: first slinging, then supervising
4. Teaching

Four movies I can watch over and over:

1. The Breakfast Club
2. St. Elmo's Fire
3. Supertroopers
4. Where The Heart Is

Four places I have lived:

In the interests of anonymity, I'm not going to do this part. And I've really only lived in three places, so I suck anyway.

Four TV shows I love to watch:

1. Nip/Tuck
2. Rescue Me
3. Charmed
4. Poker in general


Four places I have been on vacation:

1. DisneyWorld
2. Virginia (I can't remember where in Virginia, but I was there)
3. The White Mountains, NH
4. Various parts of Maine

Four of my favorite foods:

1. The Outback Special
2. Various things involving chocolate
3. Cheesecake
4. Shrimp Cocktail

Four websites I visit daily:

1. CNN
2. Weather.com (hope for a snow day springs eternal...)
3. Various web forums (unnamed...gotta be incognito)
4. UselessJunk

Four places I would rather be right now:

1. Shopping
2. Playing poker
3. Lounging by a pool or lake
4. Anywhere with my husband, and without kids

Four bloggers I’m tagging to do this:

1. Bobber
2. Riss
3. Simpler Times
4. Major Bedhead

I've chosen to spare Bukes, he was traumatized enough the last time.

People who should be shot on sight

Just in case anyone thought I was full of shit...here is the photo I promised.




Yes, folks, you're seeing this right...trees with painted trunks. What. The. Fuck.


You would think this is an isolated incident...a result of mild retardation...sorry, kids, but that's not the case. Behold, the neighbor's house:


Now, these people were clearly ahead of their time. As you can see, this particularly paint job is faded, as they defaced their tree several years ago.

And finally, the other neighbor:


Notice they've paved their ENTIRE FUCKING YARD. What you're seeing used to be a lawn. Apparently, mowing was just too much trouble.


This isn't my neighborhood, but it's close enough to piss me off. What a bunch of assbites.

This explains a LOT...

As my loyal readers are well aware, my hobbies include snacks, kinky sex and forensic examination of my stat counter. For those who are not familiar with this concept, I have code on my blog that allows me to see where my readers are coming from. Sometimes they come from other blogs, but a lot of the time I see new readers coming from various Google, MSN and Yahoo searches. The strangest keywords direct people right to my humble little virtual abode, and this has been a banner day.

[click the image to enlarge]

I've left the IP addresses off to protect the, uh, innocent...but stuff like this makes it very clear why my readership is so inherently twisted. *MWAH*! I love you all.

As a side note, I think I'm half a step away from being flagged as a porn site.

What the f...

I just drove by a house that had the tree trunks painted white. Just to about the 4 foot mark, and it was seemingly done to match the white fence, which also happens to be 4 feet tall.


What kind of a fucking idiot would do such a thing?


I need to get pics, I'll post them tomorrow. People who do stupid shit like this should be shot on sight. Fuck...

Poker. Again.

We ended up going to a friend's house to play poker last night. It was a small game, only 6 people, but it was amusing nonetheless...not surprisingly, and as is normally the case for this group of people, the level of funny increased at the same rate as the amount of Jim Beam decreased. I was drinking, so this story is not going to have the same kind of timely flow as my usual entries...forgive me if it's choppy.

We played one round, and the husband was quite the card shark as usual. Just before we started the second round, his phone rang. He didn't recognize the number, and let it go to voicemail, which he checked while we were playing. As he listened, I could hear a female voice, and the look on his face was a mixture of "What the FUCK?" and puzzled amusement.

K: "Who is THAT?"
Husband: "Hold on..hold on...this is getting speakerphone..." [puts phone on the table]

It's times like this I wish I were tech saavy enough to put an audio file on my blog. What came from the speaker was the most annoying, nasally, drunken female voice I have ever heard in my life.

"HELLOOOOOO...HELLOOOOOO....WOOGITY WOOGITY WOOGITY...HELLOOOO IT'S YOUR LOOOOOOOOOVER...I'm just WILD about you, call me baaaaaaaack and we'll hook up. (123) 45...oh shit, that's not right... (123) 456...78...fuck fuck that's not right... (123) 456-7890...did you get that? (123) 456-7890...WOOGITY WOOGITY WOOGITY!!! YOU KNOW WHO THIS IS, LOOOOOOOOVER...Call me! K? Call me tonight! WOOGITY!!! WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOGITY!!!!! BYEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!"


We were all pretty much falling out of our seats laughing. We played it three times, and she actually tried to call back twice. I swear to God if I ever figure out how to get this message transferred to an MP3, I will post it. And if it ever comes to light that my husband was fucking around with some stupid whore that would actually leave a message like that, I will cut his balls off and post video.

Anyway, we managed to collect ourselves, and the night went on. At one point, all the men folded, leaving the girls to duke it out.

Host: "Ooooh, it's the estrogen hand!"
BrotherInLaw: "Ok, who's got the biggest labia, let's see it!"
Girls: [stare in horror]
BrotherInLaw: [undeterred] "Come on, get 'em out there. LABIA GIGANTIGUS! WHO CAN FIT THE MOST SHIT UP THERE?"
Hostess: "Check."
Girl2: [attempts to ignore brother in law] "Raise."
Host: [in his best female voice] "Oooohhh, my tits are bigger than yours..."
K: "I fold."
BrotherInLaw: "Somebody's labia are sub-par..."

As the Jim Beam disappeared, lips started to get loose. There were revelations about other people who weren't around to defend themselves...

Girl2: "Shit, where's my chapstick..."
Hostess: "Oooh, what kind do you use?"
Girl2: "Burt's Bees. Good stuff."
BrotherInLaw: [casually] "You know, Don used to use chapstick on his ass."
Husband: "WHAT?"
BrotherInLaw: "Oh yeah...he'd take a new one, stick it up there..."
Girl2: "Wait...up WHERE?"
BrotherInLaw: "And once it was up there, he'd twist it up all the way..."
Host: [laughing hysterically]
BrotherInLaw: "And then he'd break it off."
K: "Wait...wait wait...THEN what?"
BrotherInLaw: "He'd just leave it there."
K: "So let me get this straight...he would leave an entire chapstick up his ass?"
BrotherInLaw: "Yep."
Host: "Well, this is the same guy who used to put frozen spoons on his grundle to increase the intensity of his ejaculations."
Girls: [stare in horror]
Husband: "Yeah. Shit like that isn't surprising when you're talking about Don."

Shortly thereafter, the brother in law was knocked out, and he took a piss break. Just as he closed the door, we heard quite a ruckus coming from the bathroom.

BrotherInLaw: "What the fuck..."
K: "Christ, what now..."
BrotherInLaw: [flushes, comes running out] "Did you guys check out that mirror in there?"
RestOfUs: [staring]
Host: "What mirror"
BrotherInLaw: "Dude, the mirror on the back of your toilet is adjusted at a perfect angle to look at your cock while you're pissing!"
Host: "WHAT?"
BrotherInLaw: "What kind of fucking weirdo ARE you???"
Host: "I DON'T LOOK AT MY COCK!"
BrotherInLaw: "[Girl2], go check it out, I'm telling you."
Girl2: [looking] "Wow, yeah, I could see my vagina if I wanted to..."
BrotherInLaw: "See? LABIA GIGANTIGUS!!!"

The iPod, as always, gave an interesting shuffle, but one of the highlight of the evening's soundtrack was a stirring parody of Billy Joel's You May Be Right, performed by my drunken half-Asian brother in law.

"I maaaaaay be white...I maaaaaay be Asian...but I just may be the ruuuuunatic you're rooking for...turn out the riiiiiiiiight...don't try to shave me...I may be Wong, for all you know, I may be whiiiiiiiiiiite..."


Host: "Shut the fuck up and play."
BrotherInLaw: "I call you! Oooohhh, frip 'em, round eye! I have frush!"
Husband: "What the fuck is a frush?"
[hysterical laughter]


We played until about 2am and ended up crashing on couches. The father in law had taken the kids, and the youngest apparently decided to shit up a storm right after we left, which we had to hear about in excruciating detail first thing in the morning. A small price to pay for such entertainment.

At least now I know to hide my good chapstick next time Don stops over. I fully plan to install a dick mirror before it's our turn to host poker night. I also plan to call up a drunken whore later on today and threaten to tear her tits off if she ever calls my husband again.

K Gets Ass Kicked; Hilarity Ensues

My son's school had a family activity this month at an indoor gym that has shitloads of those giant blow-up jumping things that you normally see at carnivals. I guess this is the new craze, and these types of places are popping up all over for $160 per hour rental. Hey, it was free, and sounded like a good time, so I signed the family up to participate. I even made the husband tag along, much to his chagrine. He usually gets out of these kinds of things, but I was damned if I was gonna suffer alone, so we piled into the family truckster and headed out.

We walked in and were faced with the biggest fucking slide I've ever seen in my life. It was damn near the size of one of those giant potato sack slides, and it was full of air and indoors. I was skeptical; youngest child was not, and he headed right the fuck up like he was Evel Knievel Jr.


He looked back a few times, but made it all the way up by himself and hurled himself downward, squealing with glee the whole way before crashed into an air-filled barrier at the bottom.


He is the blur. He was literally moving that fast. I have a pretty decent digital, and 4 attempts later, I gave up on getting a reaction shot.

Youngest Child promptly came over and grabbed my hand.

YC: "Come ON, Mummy!" [tugs hand, starts walking toward slide again]
K: "No. I don't wanna."
YC: "COME ON, MUMMY!" [tugs hand harder]
K: "You can't make me."
YC: [starts wailing, throws himself to the ground]
K: "Goddammit...fine. Once."
YC: [gets up, laughs hysterically as he leads me to my death]

I went down the giant slide, ended up catching my foot on the side and tumbled the rest of the way on my head. YC was waiting at the bottom, pointing and laughing. I promptly decided I was done trying to keep up with the young 'uns.

Shortly thereafter, as I sat on a bench, trying to shake off the vertigo I had from the giant slide, Oldest Child cajoled me into following him through a maze. Ok, I was down for that...how hard can the fucking blow-up maze be? Determined not to let a kiddie toy get the best of me, in I went, only to discover that this kiddie maze was more like a mini-Marine obstacle course.

Here we have the first obstacle: The Rock Wall. 6 feet tall, with tiny little footholds.

Now, bear in mind that I was the wimpy girl who could never climb the rope in gym class, so this shit was slightly intimidating. I managed to get to the top, but I promptly lost my balance (air-filled devices are notoriously unstable...or perhaps it was the shift of my fat ass, who knows) and did an involuntary barrel roll down the other side. Again, I was pointed and laughed at by one of my children.

Next...I was to squeeze through this thing pictured below.



Um, ok. Getting through this fiendish device can only be described as "reverse childbirth".

"Make way, motherfucker, I'm goin' in!"

I somehow managed to get through, though I had to hold my breath for a bit. I flopped out the other side, caught my breath, and was faced with the "get repeatedly punched in the face by giant orange things" gauntlet.





Followed by the "midget tunnel", where I was forced to crawl on my hands and knees to get through. Small children ran past me; again, they pointed and laughed. It was around this point I discovered that my son had long since abandoned me for the trampoline with the basketball hoop.

Then, the final obstacle: a 12 foot tall rock wall. What the fuck!

I figured I was fucked at this point. The 6 foot wall had nearly done me in, now 12??? The tunnels were one way, and there was a 16 year old girl with a whistle who was sure to lay into me if I dared to go "out" the "in". I gritted my teeth, dug in my toes and scaled it like a motherfucker...a motherfucker that is overweight and out of shape, but I made it nonetheless.

I was met with a horrifying sight...the exit slide. Nearly as terrifying as the Santa slide in "A Christmas Story"...


Now, I'm not all that afraid of heights, but I did NOT like where this was going. It was almost a vertical drop, and there were small children WAITING AT THE BOTTOM for the sole purpose of laughing at me. The head of the PTA was waiting with her 8 megapixel digital camera that was fully capable of the dreaded "reaction shot". I was fucked, and I knew it. Too late to pussy out, I sucked it up and headed down.

Needless to say, I am not looking forward to seeing THAT picture hanging on the wall at Open House.

The children chattered excitedly during the ride home. I could only hang my head out the window like a car-sick canine, fresh air the only thing keeping me from blowing chunks. Oldest Child has decided that he wants to have his birthday party at this God-forsaken hellhole. The fun never ends in the K household.

Uh...hungry?

My youngest saw the bread on the counter, and decided he just had to have it.


I found the bag on the floor, surrounded by crumbs.

Half a loaf of bread. Gone in less than 5 minutes. I went looking for him and caught him in the living room, stuffing the last two pieces into his mouth like some kind of rabid squirrel.

Speechless.

MySpace: Not Just For Douchebags Anymore

As you all know, I recently registered an account with MySpace for the sole purpose of taunting Kevin Federline. Shortly thereafter, I discoverd that Bukes has a MySpace profile as well, and added him for shits and giggles. Well, he is not pleased to be all alone with Kevin Federline on my friends page, as Bukes feels like he is "being raped by this pop dick", albeit virtually.

In the interest of safety in numbers, this is the link to my very own MySpace account:

http://www.myspace.com/dailyskweez

This will also be a little experiment in finding the purpose of MySpace...I've always seen it as a way for teenyboppers to prove how popular they are by having 1,346 people as "friends" for all to see, but maybe I'm wrong. I'm curious to see if this is actually popular among adults.

If anyone would like to be added as a friend, feel free to send a request. I'm not picky. My only requirement is that you NOT be an assbite.

I'd rather have coal than THIS crap...

This is the promised follow-up to my "Crappy Christmas Gifts" post from last month. I compiled data from several sources...friends, family, a couple of message boards, and my loyal readers, and this is the all-star list of truly awful gifts.

Penis-related items, as always, were hot:

• A crystal with a bulbous, reflective tip.
• A penis made out of pantyhose and cotton balls...packaged in a mason jar.
• Cock rings. From a great grandmother who thought they were napkin rings.
• A box of condoms. With 4 of the 12 pack missing.
• A sympathy card: "You have my sympathies on the length and width of your husband's penis."
  

Random "What the Fuck?" items:

• A stone gorilla reading the Wall Street Journal
• A "Little Book of Lifesavers". For a 24 year old man.
• Plastic lawn squirrel
• Scratched lottery tickets ("pre-loved")
• A 2 sizes too small flannel shirt from a department store that's been out of business for 15 years.
  

"I got a sweater with a black lab on it one time. I sold it to a Mexican at a yard sale."

• A mouse that sits behind a tiny grand piano and plays Christmas music. Again, for a grown man.
• A pull cart for golf clubs. Never mind that the guy had three, his mother in law said that the ones he was using "didn't match his bag".
• Fifty $1 bills in a bucket of popcorn kernels. I thought my jar was annoying, this guy actually had to DIG to find the cash.
• A bag of sugar and a bag of flour
• An initial sweater with the letter "I"...for a girl named Lisa.
  

Just plain gross:

• A moldy, half-empty box of tampons
• Giant sanitary napkins...like the kind you use after you have a baby
• Homemade jam, in leaky relish jars
• Used & tarnished 80's junk jewelry
• Dead bird. Someone forgot to cut air holes in the wrapping paper...
• Giant balls of soap, made out of tiny slivers of USED soap.
  

Thankfully, there is balance in nature...and for those who got screwed, there is still a chance to get what you wanted at the January clearance sales. I mean, I just got collapsible Rubbermaid food storage containers at Wally World for a buck each. It doesn't get any better than that.

Ha! HA! They DO have a pocket!

LoveBoatCaptain recently ridiculed me because I bought Roos that don't have a pocket. I wept. I felt inadequate. I felt like a dreaded "poser". Even when my students told me that my shoes were "pimpin", I still felt a little empty inside...how I yearned for the elusive Roo pouch...


But today, all of that changed. Turns out I DO HAVE A POCKET! It's all stealthy, and it's on the inside of the tongue, the flap secured with velcro. I discovered it purely by accident, and I guess this new development means that I'm a bad-ass after all.

I plan on hiding something in there. Not sure what yet, but that's not really the point. The point is that I CAN, muthafucka!!!

I can't seem to get away from vagina...

At recess today, the children were allowed to play in the field for the first time since early December. Poor weather and mud has forced us to the dreaded indoor recess for quite some time, so the kiddies were pretty amped.

As we ventured outside, the teachers began looking at each other sideways, alarmed...apparently, nobody had done a walk-through beforehand, and there were broken beer bottles and some interesting graffiti adorning the concrete walls.

I was standing near one of the walls when I witnessed the following conversation between two third grade boys.

Boy1: [points to wall] "What's THAT word?"
Boy2: "I dunno...lemme see..." [squints]
Boy2: "Oh, it's VUH...GIH...NUH."
Boy1: "THAT'S NOT A WORD!"
Boy2: "Well, it's not English, that's for sure."
Boy1: "Then what language is it."
Boy2: [thinks] "It's definitely Chinese."
Boy1: "Why would someone write Chinese on a wall?"
Boy2: "Who cares? It's a stupid word, it doesn't even make any sense."
Boy1: "HEY! Let's go read the words on THAT wall!"

[Boys run excitedly to the graffiti that's in red spray paint on the other end of the field]


At least they were excited to be reading. God, I love teaching in the city.

Odd things that come in cans

During my internet travels this afternoon, I came across something disturbing: Vagina In A Can.


As is the case with just about anything that could qualify as sexually deviant, we have the Japanese to thank for this technological wonder. It's a disposable masturbator, instantly ready for lovin' with the simple pop of a tab. No dinner or a movie required for a piece of this poonanny, just one easy payment of $4 U.S. dollars.


Let's have a look inside...shall we?




Yup. Just as vile-looking as I'd imagined.


This got me thinking...what other unusual items come in cans? Behold, my disturbing discoveries...


Flowers In A Can

At Uncommon Goods, you can have your very own flowers growing out of soda cans for 20 bucks. Just pop the top, add water, expose to sunlight and you've got yourself some nature.
What a racket! Soda cans + dirt + seeds = 20 bucks? Thanks, but I'll stick to killing my spider plant.


Cat In A Can

Now THIS sounded interesting. What could it be? A stuffed animal, perhaps? One that jumps out at you, reminiscent of the ever-popular "Snake In A Can"? I was excited to found out, and clicked the link...



...only to find that it was yet another vagina. Dammit. Can't believe I fell for that...







Thong In A Can


Rest assured that no dolphins were harmed during the manufacture of this product. Tuna safe...oh how clever, it's a fish joke. I'm starting to see an "in a can" trend here...


Tom In A Can


Yes, Tom comes in a can. No, I am not visiting the site to find out what that entails. Click at your own peril, I'm all set.

Condom In A Can

Once again, the Asians are scaring the shit out of me.

Apparently, you can...um..."insert" this spray can and it's contents are supposed to provide protection from diseases, dreaded sperm, and a bit of lube as well.

I don't know about anyone else, but I'm pretty much all set spraying anything with "nanometer-silver cryptomorphic" in the title anywhere near MY cooch. Fuck you guys. Wear the raincoat and SUCK IT UP.

Consciousness In A Can
















Girl #1: "I just don't know where my life is going...it all seems so meaningless."
Girl #2: "It's ok...just go get some Consciousness In A Can!"


Sorry, guys...I've got my own little bit of "Consciousness In A Can", and it's called "COFFEE". Anything beyond that is some kind of new age hippie shit that can bite my ass.


Boob In A Can


Begs the questions:

1) What kind of event would constitute a "boob in a can" emergency?
2) Why would you wanna squeeze a plastic tit? Is this soothing to men?

Clearly a novelty item, but I can just picture some fucking sicko sitting in a cubicle, stroking a rubber teet while he frantically searches for his Swingline.



I've come to the conclusion that, outside of food products, nothing truly useful comes in a can. I've also learned that my husband could be hiding a pussy in the fridge behind the sodas and I wouldn't even know it.

Top 10 funny things recently said in my presence

"Oh cool, my pubes are back!"
~Husband, who trimmed a bit too close last month


Youngest Child: [whining because I bumped his arm] "BOO BOO! OUCH!"
K: [rolling eyes, muttering] "Ouch my ASS..."
Youngest Child: "NO! Ouch my HAND!"


K: "What can I do for you, honey?"
Husband: [thinking] "Well, you can spit-shine my balls and get me a beer."


Youngest Child: [annoyed at broken toy] "JESUS CHRIST!"
Oldest Child: "Mum-MAY! [YC] is copying your bad words again!"


K: "Does anyone know who the founder of our city is?"
Student: "John F. Candidate. The third."


Guest Speaker: [holding shears and a stuffed sheep] "Ok, so I've got my shears, and I've got my sheep, what do I have to do now?"
Student: "KILL IT! STICK IT WITH THE SHEARS! KILL IT!"
Guest Speaker: [stares in horror]
Student: "What? You mean you don't have to kill before you shave it?"


Student: [under breath] "I hate you so much..."
K: "WHAT WAS THAT?"
Student: [in terror] "I ...I...bait fruit...in a hutch..."


[Instant Messenger conversation]
Ghengis: "So I'm buying my car this weekend."
K: "Oh really? This is it? And here I thought you ordered it last summer..."
Ghengis: "I'm so gonna block you. Just wait. Keep it up."


[another Instant Messenger gem]
Husband: "I'm leaving work now, baby, lube up."
K: [shocked smiley face] :-o
Husband: "Stop acting surprised. You love it."
"Husband" signed off at 4:59pm


[message board exchange]
K: "[so and so] hardly ever posts."
Other guy: "Yeah, what's up with that? So mysterious..."
Guy #2: "You guys are lucky, he's been bugging me for pictures of my ass for the last three months. Sends me poetry and everything:

How much do I love thee,
let me count the ways
like the petals on the succulent rose
show me your ass

Manamana...

For New Year's, we were invited to a friend's house party. I find this preferable to spending it in a bar, or paying insane amounts of money for "ambience" at some overpriced restaurant atop a skyscraper. I also find the people who go to Times Square or into Boston for First Night to be absolutely insane, as I am averse to frostbite and the outdoors in general, so a house party sounded pretty damned good.

We dropped the kids at my father in law's house and were on our way. The poor fool and his girlfriend actually offered to watch them for the night. We kissed them goodbye, told them to "be good", and chuckled maniacally as we sped away, knowing that he was in for a reaaaaaal treat spending a night with our little demons. We so rarely get away from them that we really couldn't be bothered to care about the father in law's suffering, and I'm fairly confident that this will not only be the first time that he offered up New Year's Eve childcare, but also the last.

Entertainment abounded; a rousing game of Scene It in the living room, Beer Pong in another, along with one of those hoop-shooting basketball things you find in an arcade. There was even a trapeze bar bolted to one of the ceiling rafters. Since I didn't feel like screaming at a TV with a bunch of chicks I didn't know very well, suck at basketball, don't drink beer and don't feel comfortable hanging upside down, poker and obscene amounts of liquor were my entertainment for the evening.

Poker turned out to be a good choice. We played 5 rounds, starting out with anywhere from 8-16 players, $10 buy-ins, and I won and/or made it to the final hand three times. As I heard 200 pounds of drunken man crash to the floor from the trapeze in the other room, it proved to be an even better choice. I generally suck at poker, but the more I drank, the better I seemed to get.

This is when I attempted to get all artsy and
take a photo from the vantage point of a poker chip.

Our host had his iPod hooked up to the stereo, set to shuffle. His music taste runs the gamut from "normal" to "alternative" to "uh, ok..." to "what the fuck is THIS???", so our soundtrack for the evening was varied to say the least. During the third round, we were all completely fucked-in-half drunk to the point where it was tough to read our own cards, when a particularly odd song came on the stereo.

It was a familiar beat...so familiar that we all looked at each other sideways...some of us knew it right away, others took a moment to catch on, but when the chorus started, we all instinctively sang along:

"Mana mana..."

"Doo doo doo doo dooooo..."

K: "Check."

"Mana mana..."

H: "Raise 10."

"Doo doo doo dooooo..."

Other guy: "In."
Guy #2: "Fuck, I just love Animal. Classic."

"Mana mana..."

Other girl: "Fold."

"Doo doo doo doo doo, doodoodoo, doodoodoo, doodoodoo doo doo doo dooooo..."

[river card...husband has 2 pair]

Guy #2: "Motherfucker!"

"Mana mana..."



[click the image to watch Animal in all his glory]

This went on for the full 2 minutes and 29 seconds of the song. It would never have been funny if we'd been sober.

The drunker we got, the freer the jokes got. My brother in law was probably the worst offender. At one point, he noticed that he'd gotten a substantial amount of black chips.

B: "This is gonna be the affirmative action hand." [pushes in all black chips]
K: [slurring] "Hey, I got lotsa blacks too..." [pushes in all her black chips]


As you can see from this vantage point, I was the dealer, and with the King and Queen I had in my hand, I had dealt myself a full house. I relieved brother in law of all of his black chips shortly thereafter. [notice that hands in the background with the stack of white chips. I offered him a white hood and a torch, but he declined]

B: "S'ok, I didn't want 'em ANYWAY."
K: "Fuckin' racist."

The colored chip slurs kept up into the next hand.

K: "I see you have lots of red chips over there..."
B: "I fuckin' hate Indians. Take 'em." [shoves all red chips in]
K: "I see your Indians, and I raise you 10 honkies." [pushes in 10 white chips]
B: "This set doesn't have any yellow chips. That's bullshit."
K: "Asians can't play poker for shit anyway." [note: brother in law is Asian]

I ended up winning that game, and chortled as I raked in my chips.

K: "Equal opportunity up in this hiz-zay, bitches!"

We stayed up until 4am playing, and ended up collapsing on a floor for 3 hours of sleep before having to face the children. The father in law was practically shoving them out the door. As I predicted, he has shown no interest in seeing any of them since.

It was a fairly tame night with a few laughs, not nearly as colorful as my usual drinking experiences, but a good time overall. Actually, it may have been more entertaining, but I can't remember half of what happened, so I am unable to report.

Next time, I'll try to get some pictures of tits or something to liven it up, but for now, here you have it. At least I finally got it done, right?

Get off the stage, you fat bitch!

This is what Hollywood considers fat.


If these are the standards, I guess I'd better watch my ass, since it's bound to get carted off to a slaughterhouse any day. Moooooo!!!

That's just precious...

There was a bit of a stir on the playground today...

Lots of commotion. Little girls crying. Boys whispering about how awesome "that" was, even though 75% of them probably had no idea what was going on.

Little Ashley was the most distraught of the girls..."WHAT'S HE TALKING ABOUT???" she wailed, pointing to a young boy by the name of Billy, who was apparently telling quite a whale of a tale over by the see-saw.

Billy: "Me and Ashley...we had ass-naked sex last night..."
Boys: "WOW!!!"
Billy: "And get this...when she took her bra off..."
Boys: [giggling..."he said bra..."]
Billy: "Yeah, her bra...and when I took it off, her boob hit me right in the face!"
Boys: [awestruck] "Really?"
Billy: "Uh huh, knocked me right down on the ground. Big ole titties."

Little Billy's parents got a call, and young Ashley went home "sick".

Did I mention they were second graders?

This caused quite a buzz in the teacher's lounge, but some of the teachers were unimpressed.

Teacher 1: "Oh that's nothing. Remember Vibrator Girl?"
K: "WHO?"
Teacher 2: "Oh yeah, Vibrator Girl [laughs], who could forget?"
K: "What happened???"
Teacher 2: "Little Carmen, down in first grade, brought her mother's big pink sex toy in for show and tell. She had NO idea what it was. Poor dear."
K: "You've got to be kidding me."
Teacher 1: "Nope. The principal called her mom to come in and get it."
K: "NO!"
Teacher 1: "Oh yeah. She had to come into the office and claim it. Real nonchalant too, like it happened all the time."
K: [stares]


Welcome to public school, boys and girls, where you can get a "reputation" before you even get pubes.

What were we thinking?

I acquired another pair of Roos last week, blue with yellow accents and YES I GOT THE POCKET THIS TIME, LoveBoatCaptain! My current fascination with Roos has got me thinking about the various fashion faux pas that were committed by my generation.

Day Glo

I am ashamed to admit that I owned a shirt of this exact color. It was long sleeved, mock neck, and it didn't have armpits, meaning the material went straight from my elbow to my midsection for a kite-like effect when I lifted my arms. I had a denim skirt with Day Glo green stitching to match. I also had the matching Day Glo scrunchie. I'm getting a migraine just remembering how I would stare at the mirror for hours to adjust that fucking scrunchie so the pony tail sat JUST SO on the side of my head. Madness.

Layered Slouch Socks

See these socks? Nowadays, they make socks that give you that sought-after layered look WITHOUT having to wear 6 pairs of socks to get there. I remember wearing 3 pairs of socks to get "the look", and hobbling around like my toes had been amputated. Shit, I couldn't feel them, my shoes were so fucking tight that they could have shriveled up and fallen off and I would have been none the wiser. Did I mention the matching Day Glo socks that I layered to complete my kite ensemble? Pure 80's gold.


Pegged Pants

WHO convinced us that THIS looked good??? I personally wanna meet that fucktard and give him a piece of my mind for forcing me to cut off circulation to my feet for a full year of my life. Just imagine: Day Glo kite shirt, layers of matching socks, hobbling around and looking down constantly to make sure that my pants had not become "unpegged". Perish the thought.

Aerodynamic Bangs

I can proudly say that I never fell victim to big hair, but it was pretty much because my mom wouldn't let me. I wasn't even allowed to get bangs until I was in high school because it would have cost too much to pay to have them trimmed every month. I needed the big hair to balance out my kite and was denied. It's shit like this that makes a person climb to the top of a clocktower and start picking off student nurses with a rifle.


Legwarmers



I remember stealing my mom's rainbow legwarmers and pedaling away on the exercise bike so I could be just like Olivia Newton John in her whored-out video "Physical". I think I was like 5, so I never left the house in said apparel...it amazes me that some actually DID, and still DO.







The Madonna Street Whore Look

This particular ensemble really pulls it all together:

Day Glo: Check
Slouch Socks: Check
Teased Hair: Check

How the fuck did she EVER become a global superstar? It amazes me. I mean, her music is ok, but she'd never have gotten where she is without teeny boppers and the gay community worshipping her every wardrobe change.

I recently saw those skinny little rubber bracelets on youngsters...Jesus Christ...why oh why would those ever come back?


I actually started this post a month ago, and kind of forgot about it, until a friend forwarded me one of those "Your were a child of the 80's if..." lists, so I decided to finish it up and post it, since my NYE story probably isn't going to be ready until tomorrow. :D

Highlights of the list (I deleted the ones I mentioned above, and the ones I really don't care about):

"Your were a child of the 80's if..."

1. You've ever ended a sentence with the word "SIKE"
2. You watched the Pound Puppies.
4. Girls wore biker shorts under their skirts and felt stylishly sexy.
5. You yearned to be a member of the Baby-sitters club and tried to start a club of your own.
6. You owned those lil' Strawberry Shortcake pals scented dolls.
8. Two words: Hammer Pants
9. If you ever watched "Fraggle Rock"
11. You can sing the entire theme song to "DuckTales " (Woo ooh!)
12. It was actually worth getting up early on a Saturday to watch cartoons.
14. You saw the original "Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles " on the big screen...and still know the turtles names.
17. You played the game "MASH " (Mansion, Apartment, Shelter, House)
18. You wore stonewashed Jordache jean jackets and were proud of it.
19. L.A. Gear....need I say more?
20. You wanted to change your name to "JEM " in Kindergarten.(She's truly outrageous.)
21. You remember reading "Tales of a fourth grade nothing" and all the Ramona books.
22. You know the profound meaning of "WAX ON, WAX OFF"
23. You wanted to be a Goonie.
26 You have ever pondered why Smurfette was the only female smurf.
27. You took lunch boxes to school... and traded Garbage Pail kids in the schoolyard.
28. You remember the CRAZE, then the BANNING of slap bracelets.
30. You remember Hypercolor t-shirts.
31. Barbie and the Rockers was your favorite band.
34. You ever owned a pair of Jelly-Shoes. (and like ..24, probably in neon colors, too)
35. After you saw Pee-Wee's Big Adventure you kept saying "I know you are, but what am I?"
36. You remember "I've fallen and I can't get up"
37. You remember going to the skating rink before there were inline skates.
39. You have ever played with a Skip-It.
40. You had or attended a birthday party at McDonalds.
42. You remember Popples.
43. "Don't worry, be happy"
45. You wore socks scrunched down (and sometimes still do...getting yelled at by "younger hip" members of the family)
46. You remember boom boxes. . and walking around with one on your shoulder like you were all that.
47. You remember watching both "Gremlins " movies.
50. You thought Doogie Howser/Samantha Micelli was hot.
51. You remember Alf, the lil furry brown alien from Melmac.
52. You remember New Kids on the Block when they were cool... and don't even flinch when people refer to them as "NKOTB".
54. You know all the words to Bon Jovi - SHOT THROUGH THE HEART
55. You just sang those words to yourself.
57. Homemade Levi shorts.. (the shorter the better)
58. You remember when mullets were cool!
59. You had a mullet!
60. You still sing "We are the World"
62. You owned a banana clip.
63. You remember "Where's the Beef?"


Good times, good times...

Busy

Today is a snow day...I'm not quite sure why, as there is literally an inch of snow on the ground and no ice...but I'm taking the opportunity to clean this shithole that is masquerading as my home and to run some errands. I also have about 8 loads of laundry to catch up on. Yeah, what a fucking slacker, believe me I know.

I hope to have the story of my New Year's Eve experiences done late tonight. I think I'm still hung over. Either that or I have mono. Whatever, either way, I feel and look like shit and will fit right in when I venture out to WalMart in my sweats with three screaming brats in tow this afternoon.

Anyway, you clearly won't be getting much entertainment from me today, so I direct you to some nifty news stories about cats.

Cat hitches a ride, travels 70 miles under an SUV

Cat calls 911, saves owner's life

Fuckers dump cat in trash, gets rescued

Heh heh

Seeing this posted on MySpace is almost as much fun as the 30 minutes I spent tormenting KFed's minions at his fan forum. My parting words included telling one of the moderators to "go lick Kevin's taint some more". I'm probably banned now. I may weep.





My childish behavior from 2005 has now come full circle. It's New Year's Day, after all, and I hereby resolve to be more mature.


Anyone care to wager how long this will last?