Tis the Season for Porn on the Grill

Is it any wonder that Bobby Flay was a guest chef at Jackman's Table? I was watching his show yesterday and he was cooking some sizeable steaks. He said, (and I'm not the scriptwriter) "When you're done with a piece of meat, especially one this size, you have to let it rest because it's still hot and it will still be runny." I remember one show last summer when he was grilling some burgers. He was really putting his all into making these burgers and he said "You really want to pack in as much meat as possible" and then he looked right at the camera, gave the burger a good smack and yelled "WHO'S YOUR DADDY?" I almost fell right off the couch. If I remember correctly, that's the show when he picked up the girl at the produce store.

I admit, I have some ribs cooking right now, basted in something called "Bone Sucking Sauce".

Jankee Beisbol!

So the Sux are just mopping the floor with our boys. Sad, so sad. But we watch anyway because we're fools. I've started getting the baby to talk. Now when he sees baseball, he waves to the tv and says "Hi Tee!" Tee, being Tino. You know what's weird? That pitcher they call "The Big Unit". Now, there's a funny nickname, but the funniest part is that it's no worse than his real name. Randy Johnson. I don't even want to know what his mother was thinking when she named him that.

Sunscreen

A few days ago, the 13yo girl who comes over to help out sometimes was here. We went out in the yard after my daughter's piano lesson. The sun was high and it was hot and it was blazing down on us. As I looked at this fair redhead with the full sun on her exposed white arms, I could just about hear a sizzle. I told her she should probably have on sunscreen and she said she was fine. I said it again and she declined. So I said "Look, do you want to be a shriveled old hag by the time you're thirty???" Ah, if only I had had my camera to capture the look on her face forever. She softly said "Um, okay. I'll go put on sunscreen" and went into the house and put some on. So later, my daughter told her that I'll be 37 in July and she couldn't believe it. She said "No way! You don't look that old!" So I said "See? Sunscreen." Haha. (I rarely use sunscreen. When I was a kid, the ozone was in the sky where it belongs, rather than down here in our lungs where it seems to have enjoyed settling.)

whine bitch complain

I can't believe that one picture screwed up my whole template. Unbelievable. Now I have to try fucking with it and I'm so not computer oriented. And I'm tired and I'm hungry, which has little to do with it, but as long as I'm complaining, I thought I'd throw it in.

Oh, well now, that was easy.

Oops! I Almost Forgot!

Thank you, Veronica for that delicious picture! I hope he's feeding you well during your recovery. Ask him to do the lobster ravioli. You won't regret it!

And Dinner When He's Not...

Dinner When Wolvie's Home

Is it me?

People who can't make change are just plain frightening.

Because I Know Everyone Loves to Read About Barf...

Well, in case anyone misinterpreted, no, my husband didn't come home early from his trip. He left later. He's coming home tonight. And he got hit with a touch of what we have here too. Yesterday was my son's turn. I haven't seen that much puke since my husband was in college. He was pretty cheerful about it though. He stayed happy and active all day, which is good, but sucks, since that means he was puking all over the house. At least my daughters can stay in one place and use a bucket.
He also seems to have an evil sense of humor. A couple of times he would walk up to me, give a tiny cough, stick his tongue all the way out and make puking sounds. Then he'd laugh at me when I'd grab the wipes or whatever. He's only a year old. It can only get worse.

Bless His Heart!

DH is coming home. I have to be up every hour to try to get the little monkey to take some more ice if she can hold it down. Then I'm supposed to drive to the doc's at 9am. Not a good thing. I also have ominous rumblings of my own, but it could be that I didn't really eat dinner (I didn't get anything until around 4 in the first place) and just took two advils for my threatening migraine. He's changing his flight. He's coming home. I love him. I totally love him.

It's Just Like I Told You

My husband has a wedding in Florida this weekend. We won't see him until late Monday night. Not even fifteen minutes after he was gone, our 3yo started to barf her head off. I'm washing everyone's hands like crazy. I'm so terrified that we'll all get it. While he lies on a warm, sandy beach. I don't know how he does it.

Oh. Man.

http://www.randomthink.net/misc/ebay/

I'm gonna throw out a whole bunch of stuff today. Even if I need it!

Insomnia?

It's not that I'm not tired, or even not sleepy. I'm both, but I'm too tense and antsy to go to bed. Feeling crappy, with unhappy thoughts. I got some bad news this evening to top off how poopy I was already feeling. I have two kids asleep on the couch and I have to carry them both upstairs and change them into pajamas. I'm too tired to do that. DH isn't coming home tonight so he can't help, and yet I'm still in wait up mode for him. If I could only GET to bed, I could probably sleep for a couple of hours. I wish he were coming home tonight. Bleah. This is major suckage.

And On a Lighter Note

You know that song, "Judy in Disguise"? I can't remember the last time I heard that, but for some reason it was going through my head today. Only it was different. First it was "Poopy little guys with glasses on..." Then it was "Droopy little thighs my ass is on..." I need some kind of help.

Being Old Sucks

My elderly neighbor recently went into a nursing home. Yesterday I spoke with his wife. She said they've been married for 67 years and now they're living apart and they're heartbroken. All they want is to live together again, but she doesn't have the care he needs at home. I'm so sad for them. I wish there were something I could do. I was up all night thinking about it. I was hugging Brian tight. I hope that never happens to us.

The Trouble With Free Stuff

Ugh. Now Hello won't work for either of my accounts. I need to get Photobucket or something. Not good on a day when I feel like crap.

Crumpet? 

He's Such a Nice Boy

This is Tino offering me the bat to spank him for not hitting a homer last night. No no, sweetie. You did great. Unless you want me to, I mean.

Disney Angst

My daughter was just mentioning that when Kanga and Roo first came to the Hundred Acre Woods, everyone was afraid of them. I'm not even going to explore the social significance of that because I think there's an even greater issue there. Why don't they talk like Aussies? Worse yet, why do all the critters talk like Americans? Aren't they in England? And what are kangaroos doing there anyway? As far as I know, kangaroos, like coconuts, are not migratory. I don't know if an English swallow migrates to Australia anyway and I doubt they could carry a kangaroo, even if they grip it by the husk. African swallows don't even come into play here. Wait, what was I saying? Oh yeah. So why does John Smith, an Englishman played by an Aussie, talk like an American? Okay, so he's played by an Aussie who's really from Poughkeepsie, but we can let that slide. And how much did his mother hate him to go and name him John with a last name like Smith? Then again, not much else goes with it. Reinaldo Smith doesn't really work. Giovanni Smith? Hmmmm, Sebastian! Yeah! That's the rockinest boy's name ever. I'm going to try to dub it onto the dvd. I'll have to ask if we have that technology.

Finding Ways Around Things...

So look at this. The buttons work in another browser. The browser I have used the whole time, even before my blog came to be, suddenly doesn't work with the buttons. I can write in blue if I use IE, but not Maxthon, though I used to. WTF??????? Look, orange!

I Wonder What This Means

It occurs to me that at least half of my harem boys are lefties. Hmmm. That's a far greater percentage than the general population. Something for me to ponder aimlessly, pointlessly, fruitlessly. I wish I had some cookies. No, brownies.

Late for a Ben Waa gig. Eegee's gonna kill him. Damn midtown traffic! 

Not Wolvie, but I love this one anyway. Kitty and Colossus, who I hope we'll see more of in X3 instead of that lameass Kitty/Rogue hybrid and her trying to make out with a barely pubescent version of Iceman saga. Do I sound bitter?

And I just looooooove this one. 

My favorite cover. One of my favorite storylines too. In this one, Jackman's Table has hired extra security for a special event. Ru Paul is not getting in.

'Sokay, I'm over it. 

Damn you I say!!!! 

I had to get a new account under a new alias that I have to try to remember. I'm not happy. Damn you Hello Bloggerbot! 

Bring it home to mama, baby! Woohoo!

Anyone watching the game? I have such great taste in harem boys. Yes I sure do. My pookie ookie wookie hit another homer tonight. Nah, I don't really call him that. Not to his face anyway. I wish I could post a picture of him here, but technical support says that maybe they'll address my problem if they get the chance sometime in the future if they feel like it don't hold my breath.

Now I'm Mad!

Bloggerspot still won't let me click any of the buttons to change color, italicize, etc. AND NOW I can't post any pictures because Hello won't work. I uninstalled and reinstalled it a million times now. It's what I use to chat with my honey while he's at work (apparently getting paid to send xo's over the internet). Well, I suppose it's time for that thing I've been dreading. Technical support. If I ever get it working again I'm going to just spam this thing with Wolverine pictures.

I Guess I Forgot

Last night I started a new belly dancing class. It reminded me of two things. One, I'm very bad at dancing. Two, I'm exhausted. Dancing requires movement. Movement that's not just shuffling your feet and trying to keep your eyelids from falling down. You have to act like you have some kind of energy and are glad to be using it. Like you have nothing else to use it for. Sure. After a long day, there's nothing I'd rather do than exert myself. Oh, and I'm supposed to smile. Why do I do these things?

The Secret of Mothers' Day

First, let me wish all the mothers here a wondeful day. And for the rest of you, some helpful hints on how to REALLY make a happy mothers' day. I know you want to get gifts and whatnot. Okay. But guess what. Lack of bath salts isn't the reason she doesn't take luxurious relaxing baths. A gift certificate for a manicure or massage would be just lovely sitting there on her dresser until it expires. Flowers are very pretty until they're dead the next day from lack of care, or dumped because the baby tried to put some in his mouth. Are you getting it yet?

I imagine a moment when I can GO GET a manicure, or take a hot bath, or get a massage. But there's that ironic thing about mothers' day again. Yep, it's that motherhood thing getting in the way. Crazy, isn't it?

Put away your wallet guys. What your wife really wants is for you to BE THERE. Step away from the computer...that's right, you can do it...no, NO! GET AWAY FROM THE LAWNMOWER DAMMIT! Go to the children. Yes, very good. I'm proud of you. So you've told her that you will take care of the kids while she spends an hour or two at the bookstore cafe. Good for you! Now, when she comes home, what will she find? Sure the children are alive. Nobody has swallowed drano or stuck a finger in a socket. But what about the rest of it? Did they eat when they were supposed to, or will that happen when mom comes home to feed them as they leap upon her, clawing and whining before she has her jacket off? Will she have to deal with the fingerpainting mess that occupied them while she was out? Was the bedtime routine delayed in favor of entertainment, for her to do when she comes home and the kids are extra tired and cranky? Hmmm. Let's try again.

"Honey, today (whatever day it is that you have off) I will be the primary caregiver. You pretend you're me. Need to do something? Go ahead! Who's stopping you? Need a nap before dinner? Okay, I'll wake you when I'm about to serve. I'll take over the usual stuff because I'm their parent too. Sorry kids, you still have to clean up your mess."

You will notice by the end of the day that mommy probably looks prettier. She's not yelling. She is willing to play cards and stuff. Wow, who knew? I did, and now you do too.

EEW!!!! BOY COOTIES!!!!!!!!!

I took my kids to a birthday party today. It was at a K of C hall. The ladies' room was on our floor, the men's room was in the basement. There was a little boy there, about six years old. He had to pee. He couldn't find the men's room so he used the ladies' room, which was empty. Well, when some of the girls saw him go in, they freaked out and in turn so did their parents. I couldn't figure this out. The poor kid had to pee. What could possibly happen to the world by him using the upstairs bathroom? If we took the sign off the door would it have been okay? It was discussed in whispers during lunch, so as not to offend the kid's mother. I have to wonder about these people. See, in my house, we have the upstairs bathroom and the downstairs bathroom. If you're upstairs, you use the upstairs bathroom and if you're downstairs, you use the downstairs bathroom. Apparently, these people segregate by gender in their houses. Weird. I'm still trying to figure out what horrors have befallen the females at the party because of that supposed reckless menace to society.

Eating Out

Today I took the kids to lunch. No place fancy, just Friendly's. I had the need for some serious ice cream sundae action. Anyway, as we were going in, I was carrying the baby and trying to hold the door open for my other two little ones. A waitress was coming in from her break and you'd think that seeing a CUSTOMER, much less anyone struggling like that, she'd hold the door. Can you believe she actually squeezed in before I could lose hold of the door? I was really hoping we wouldn't be at one of her tables. Thankfully we weren't. This same woman was at a back table with some other staff, being loud and obnoxious. She yelled and then called one of them a little shit, prompting me to get "that look" from my 7yo. Now again, this wasn't any place fancy, but even at a hot dog stand, there is something called common courtesy and proper public behavior. Then again, maybe her lack of social grace is why she has to work at Friendly's.

On the flip side, although our waitress wasn't the brightest bulb in the chandalier, she was perfectly nice and courteous. At the table behind us, the man didn't say hello or anything. In a gruff tone of voice, as if she had done something wrong, he said "Gimme a diet coke with lemon!" Was that necessary? Her job sucks bad enough. Why make it worse? I bet he never even made eye contact with her. I left her a little extra beyond my already good tip. I like to tip well, because I can. I feel lucky and why shouldn't I make someone's day just a tiny bit brighter? I'm glad my kids are well-behaved in restaurants. Waiting tables must be a hard job.

It's Finally Happened

I always knew this day would come. I fought it as long as I could, which probably wasn't smart, but I am only 36 after all. I realize, though, that I have to give in. And so it begins. I have started using moisturizer. When I start using eye cream and foundation, you might as well just shoot me.

If I Ever Write a Book...

It will NOT have a pink cover, and on the cover there will not be kicky red shoes, a lipstick print, a martini/cosmopolitan, stockings, or a heart-shaped locket.

Please, publishers. STOP IT!