It's Good to Have a Harem

When one of my harem boys was behaving in a less than favorable way, the others provided backup to keep me happy. Hugh went on Leno and made me laugh, and he looked gorgeous. During that show, I also got to see Wolvie light a cigar off a burning car and then show me a fastball special. Following that, Craig was quite naughty and amusing, though he still needs a little discipline when it comes to his comments about Broadway musicals. I think he might be a little bit jealous. Anyway, the previously mentioned harem boy fell back into favor (for the most part) when I noticed that for the first time since we have lived in this house, he cared enough to NOT mow my flowers down with the first mowing of the season. A gesture that I most appreciate.

I Just Bought This Last Night on Ebay

It's 100% Merino, hand spun and hand dyed by some guy and his family in Uruguay. It means that I won't be able to buy decent pants for a week, but it's worth it. I'm so happy. I can't wait for it to get here, though it will be two or three weeks. That gives me time to finish the two guitar straps I'm working on now. Yay for me.

Things That Shouldn't Happen During PMS

The grocery delivery shouldn't bring tilapia instead of salmon. Do not get involved in a discussion in which someone needs to be set straight. Do not look at recipes for tasty baked goods. Do not read a book in which you can spend two hours of reading time reading about murder, suicude, execution, family reunion, birth, betrayal and marriage proposals. Not a good time to find out that they math in your knitting pattern was funky, just as you are starting the final step. Most of all, nobody should give even a hint of suggestion that mommy might be taking less than optimal care of the children.

Trees

If a person wanted to plant a Giant Sequoia in his or her yard, the National Arbor Day Foundation sells saplings for eight bucks. If you get in trouble with your homeowners' association, don't blame me cause I'm just sayin'. (do it do it do it do it do it )

Remember This, Grasshopper

Good: Corn muffins fresh from the oven with butter, honey, and a side of bacon. Mmm.

Bad: Getting your belly button jewelry caught on the edge of the counter in front of the sink and not knowing until you walk away. Very bad.

Chocolate Bunnies

Okay, husband, I nicked this from Stephen Redrobe (he knows) who nicked it from somewhere else, where it was nicked from somewhere else, where it was nicked from somewhere else, where it was nicked from somewhere else, where it was nicked from somewhere else...enough credit?

In Honor of National Tartan Day

Ah, nothing like a man in a kilt. There's something about caber tossing that I just can't seem to put my finger on. Hmm...I bet Bert can.

HEY YOU KIDS! GET OFF MY LAWN!

He really needs to relax.

Brain Dump

Unintended chemical experiments have kept me from dumping out my brain for a while, but it's starting to overflow. I have to get it out.

First, I'd like to know why Nelly was on a kids' show on a kids' channel. (and why he picked that stupid name) "Dat shit" isn't really appropriate language for a kids' show. What were they thinking when they booked him? If I want my kids to hear that, I'll just leave the tv off and they can hear it from me when I'm mad. I don't advertise myself as kid-friendly. They do.

The other day, my aunt gave my 4yo an accordian. I'm sure I don't need to say anything about that. The responses are obvious. It was the same day that my mother gave my 2yo a very loud, talking, toy screwgun. His name is Phil the Drill, even though he's not. I guess they couldn't find a name to rhyme with "screwgun".

George Bush is pushing ethanol. Does anyone else see something wrong there? I defintely hear alarm bells going off. He and his puppeteers only do things if there are big dollar signs attached for them. I'm sure it will be no cheaper for the rest of us than gasoline is. At least it will be cleaner. I notice he's not pushing biodiesel, because I can run my car for free after frying up some catfish. Doesn't do him any good. Well, as far as he's figured out yet. I'm sure whatever ends up being profitable will be owned by them in some way. I'm sure they will make accomodating laws tied to homeland security or something. Or more likely, ignore the law altogether. I'd better start making my own solar panels now.

I like The Wiggles. I really do. My kids love them. They're weird, but they're cool. Their music doesn't make me puke. I like it. Sample lyrics "wahoo hey! I'm combing my hair today!" Yes, that's always an event. "Watch him daaaaaance in his pirate paaaaaants." Another good one. And speaking of music, what is it about a the first summery day of April or May that makes me want to put on "Diver Down" and clean the house? Always "Diver Down". Must be memories of warm spring days at school with everyone playing frisbee on the lawn while my husband (then boyfriend) and his friends ran their speakers out the window. All they played there was frisbee. It was a performing arts school, you see. There were hackeysack players too, but they were a minority, as environmental studies was a smaller department.

Yesterday I went shopping. There's a new clothing store in the mall called "Pretty Woman". If you recall, the movie of the same title was about a hooker. Well, the name tells you all you need to know about the clothes they sell. I'm sure they'll do plenty of business.

I know the feeling...

I have days like this all the time. Eventually you go "yeah, something blew up again. Whatever."

Have Fox and Gannon Call Me

I have found the new Peter Allen. It's Anthony from the Wiggles. Seriously. He'd do a really good job. It's almost scary, actually. I'd buy a ticket.

I hate when I do that

I just wrote a JT post involving chocolate raspberry croissants. Now I can practically taste them. Crap. Will I ever learn my lesson? Probably not.

I Needs Me Some Happy

It's difficult not to smile back.

THIS BURNS MY TOAST!!!!!!!!!!

In case some of you might not have realized it, I can be moody. Today I was having a good day. One of the things I had planned was to put our Harry Potter game in debug mode, which will allow us to access hidden areas and a secret game level. My daughter and I were pretty excited about it. So I went into the program and tried to follow the instructions I was given, but the files were completely different from what this guy had listed. So I poked around and finally found what I was looking for and changed debug mode from false to true and saved the changes. Popped in the game, got ready to use debug mode, hit the key I needed to hit, and...NOTHING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! DAMMIT!!!!!!!!!!!!! I went back into the files to make sure I had saved the change and I had. So this made me cranky and now I'm mad that I'm cranky! My poor kids.

This Rocks

I mentioned a while back that my dad died in November. He was not a traditonal kinda guy and I'm not very traditional either, so there was no funeral. Instead, he was cremated and is now holding up my DVD's. We are planning a memorial service in June because of his birthday and fathers' day. Thing is, being not very traditional, I'm not sure what to do, although we're probably going to plant a tree in my yard and put his ashes in the hole. He kept wanting to plant a tree here. Anyway, although I missed this episode, I was lucky enough to find the video online- Craig Furgeson's father died in January (you'd think I could keep up with all my harem boys' goings on, but there are so many of them) and he used his show to have a wake for his dad. (I bet the crew got smashed that night) The Wicked Tinkers came on. If you've never heard or seen them perform, go to www.wickedtinkers.com. They banged the drums for Craig's dad. http://www.wickedtinkers.com/Video/TLLS.set.2.mov My dad would love this. The neighbors probably would not. Still pondering...

Call me cruel if you must...

...but I can't perpetuate the myth that has polluted the minds of so many generations. I don't care if it shatters your faith to the very core, you must know the truth.

CURIOUS GEORGE IS NOT A MONKEY! HE'S A CHIMPANZEE!

There, I said it. I feel like a stain has been removed from my soul. Now what's the deal with the man with the yellow hat? Clearly, he is not the zoologist he claims to be. So what's his scam? Pervert?

Waiting for the blizzard

Don't know what I'm waiting for exactly, but I got some cash to pay the shovel guys, plenty of Pepsi and Doritos, Cranium Cadoo, the Olympics on tv, etc. I just took a hot fudge cake out of the oven and I have a really fun MST3000 episode on dvd. My shovel is on the porch, my car is at the end of the driveway and I'm pretty set. I just hope that when the spousal unit gets off the train on Sunday night, he can dig out his car and come home. It does feel nice to not have to go anywhere.

Meanwhile, at Jackman's Table, will Ridgkov- I mean Ridge really be back later? What kind of packing is he helping his old prison buddy do? What kinds of applicants will show up for the new bartender position? Is Jenda now a Russian citizen? Can Raven really have her croissants and eat them too? And what of Antonio? What indeed...

The Day My Butt Went Psycho

That's the title of the book that I just bought for my daughter. I saw it in the bookstore and I couldn't NOT get it for her. It's about butts plotting to take over the world by switching places with the heads and other various dastardly deeds. I heard her laughing until almost midnight. I think I'll have to read it when she's done. I'm also wondering why I didn't write this book.

FINALLY!

I have slain the basilisk and rescued the entire world AND gotten all my gold wizard cards! Now I hope I will stop having dreams of little sparkly gold areas full of jelly beans. I really hope so. Only problem is now I have to help my daughter through, which is how I got roped into this mess. And THEN she'll install "Prisoner of Azkaban". I'm doomed.

I Didn't Watch the Super Bowl

I don't even know who was playing. I do like the commercials and I wanted to see the Stones, but I was too busy collecting jelly beans so that I could have enough of them to buy the Nimbus 2001 from Fred Weasley so that I could fly around collecting yet more jelly beans to buy snot to make the wiggenwild potion so I don't die when those damn little imps bite me and so I can buy wizard cards to get the keys to open the quadruple locked chamber so I can get the gold ones for some reason that I don't know of. My life is complicated.

I'm Comptetely Math Deficient...

...and even I don't need one of those dumbass tip calculation cards! First, let me say that if you are a complete moron, I'm not talking to you. You need one. The rest of you, listen up. How difficult is it to figure out fifteen or twenty percent? I know, you're too busy. Two seconds in the life of the most important person in the world, on whom all other life hinges is just too much. I think that's a separate issue that you will have to address with your therapist, so for now, let's discuss the math that is supposedly so difficult that you need to carry this card in your wallet.

Let's say your bill is $84.95 before tax. How on earth will you figure it out! Oh the drama! Move the fucking decimal to the left to get $8.40! This is ten percent you dumbass! Now take a nap from the mental exhaustion. I'll wait.

Back? Rested? Great. Now that you have ten percent, can you figure out how to get twenty percent? I'm not going to tell you. I refuse. $16.80 you say? Very good! You get a cookie! But wait! You are cheap and only want to give fifteen percent! Oh no! This is a disaster! How on earth will you figure out how to get one and a half ten percents????? I'm not going to tell you. $12.60! Wow, you deserve a vacation after all that hard work. I'll leave it to you to either round down to $12 or up to $13. It's a free country.

It should be the law that anyone who uses a tip card should not be allowed to work at a job that involves percentages, statistics, money, weights and measures, or any kind of profits. It should be legal to search their wallets daily for a tip card. I don't want a pharmacist who can't use a decimal point and I sure don't want someone like that handling my money. And if you are a teacher or involved in education and you use a tip card, you need to go right to the toilet, stick your head in, and flush. Right now. Go.

The rest of you, throw out your tip cards and relish your new freedom from decimal point phobia.

Feeling Especially Irritable

Look, how about you just don't talk to me today, Okay? Thanks.

AAAAAH!!!!!!!!!! FEATHERS!!!!!!!!!

Remember last spring's dance costume from hell? Well, being that I'm an idiot, I let my daughter keep it, thinking that eventually I'd put it together for her. Today I went to clean out their closet and there were just feathers everywhere! I would put something away and feathers would fly up. I'd throw something out and feathers would fly up. I tried to get all the puzzle pieces back into their proper boxes and there were all these tiny feathers trapped among the pieces. They were flying through the air in the whole room and stuck to everything. They're in my hair, on my clothes, and I just knocked one off my nose. We have dance class today and I'm going to look like a crazy person. I'll never get them all off, especially out of my hair.

Maybe that's a good thing though. Maybe everyone will stay far away from me. Last week I was subjected to the Dr. Phil show. No, not on TV. I could ignore that. There was a family there working out their lifetime of issues. The mom brought her daughter to class and brought along the girl's teenage aunt, and the girl's grandfather, who apparently, they hadn't seen in many years and had never met his granddaughter. They hashed through A LOT of stuff at full volume as if they were at home! I was sitting there trying to will myself to go deaf. I felt like yelling "HEY! I'M HERE! HELLO!" but somehow I don't think it would have helped. What the hell is the matter with some people? I don't care who your real father was, as revealed to you on your mother's deathbed. I don't care who the favorite child was and I certainly don't want to hear about the creepy uncle who stalked your boyfriends. How nice that you forgive each other, now SHUT UP! They weren't just telling family stories, they were SHARING FEELINGS that they had never spoken about, ASKING FORGIVENESS for all kinds of major shit. I don't think that stuff is included in the tuition! There was just me and these three wackadoos. I sat knitting and trying to ignore them like they were ignoring me. It was torture. Thankfully, the girl's class ended a half hour later. I'm sure it went on all night. Couldn't they have saved this? I hope they aren't there again today. I'm not that patient. What I need is a can of Freakbegone spray. Anyone know where I can get some?

How Tired Is He?

My husband is so tired that when he called home today and I told him that I was in the middle of painting our son's toenails (Disney Princess Aqua Sparkle), he said something like "oh that's nice". Man, he needs a day off.

Been away too long...

I haven't posted here in forever. I'm certainly not lacking in things to say, I'm just thoroughly exhausted. Weeks without my husband is a lot to handle. My kids can really wear me out. I never get enough rest. I've been sleeping on my feet for a week straight. Tomorrow is my daughter's birthday party. We're paying bucks that we can't necessarily afford so that I don't have to do it myself. All we have to do is show up, although due to her allergies, we still had to make cupcakes and we'll bring her a happy meal for lunch instead of the pizza they're having. Meanwhile, I'll leave you with a final thought to tide you over. We try to set a good example for our children. When your 2yo comes over to you with a can of frosting and a spoon, gesturing with a cute little squeak for you to please open it, that can't be good. Oopsie.

Just Yummy

These have been public long enough now that I think I can put them here. If there is any doubt about my taste in harem boys, this should clear that up. And all you bachelors who want to pick up chicks, my kids are for rent if you can afford it. It's far more effective than a dog.

Friendship

What's cool is when your best friend's kid is your kid's best friend.

What sucks is when you see your friends headed for a massive train wreck and there's not a damn thing you can do about it except to brace yourself and hope you don't get splattered between them.

I Think He Uses a Remote

My husband got on a plane two days ago. You know the rest...

Solstikwanzukahmas

December is such an eventful month. All that holiday goodness crammed in. Who could think of a better way to spend winter solstice eve, than the traditional sitting up all night in the ER with the toddler who ate a glass ornament off the tree? Mmmm...now there's a tasty and very crunchy holiday treat. Isn't that why mama hangs them on the tree? So you can pick the appley looking things for a yummy snack? And the wonderfully warm feelings that are shared when it's clear that nobody at the hospital believes he really ate it because he has no cuts and it doesn't show up on the x-ray, and clearly mom must have some kind of Munchausen's deal going on. But there's always a solstice miracle. Yes, little Angus Claus delivered that little diaper full of sparkly poop to his daddy the next day. Yes sir, there it was for all to see. I should have dropped it off at the registration desk as a thank you gift. It was quite festive looking.

Then of course, there are the Christmas specials that we watch every year. You know, the ones that are so classic that we know the words. We snuggle up with the kids to share the tradition. Like this one- sing along, don't be shy. I know you know the words..."Mr. Hanky the Christmas Poo, he loves me, I love you..." Makes you all warm and tingly, doesn't it? "I can't wait to jingle your bells, and falala your la..."

Making holiday treats with the kids is fun. My favorite part is trying to convince a toddler that marzipan isn't playdough and is edible, then trying to convince him that the playdough isn't marzipan and is NOT edible. Haha! Oh the larks we have!

Wrapping the presents and putting them under the tree is one of my favorite solstice/christmas activities. My mom showed up with bags of gifts from herself and my brother and my cousin, and as I placed the festively wrapped packages under the tree, one meowed at me. One had the nerve to say "this place looks like a pigsty!" That last one was Dusty the Talking Vacuum Cleaner. He's lucky my son loves him. Loud seemed to be the theme this year. My little brother, now an adult living across the country, continues his career in sibling irritation by sending my kids things like the Disney princess talking cash register and Tumble Time Tigger, who does cartwheels to MC Hammer music. It's his way. In addition, my kids got a Furby, a talking school bus, and an "interactive" US presidents thing where they press a button to learn about a president and it plays "Hail to the Chief" and ends with "Good night, and God bless America." That was from my strange cousin. She's really old. 'Nuff said. Mind you, I'm not the only one around here with a little brother. Their other uncle got them a musical instrument set. LOTS of them in there. Some that you bang on. I try not to think about it.

I know there's a denoument after the official celebration is over. It always kills me when the last cookie gets eaten. I really like cookies. But that holiday excitement returns with the roaring fire in the oven when you use the self-clean feature after spilling beef drippings. It's almost like the return of the sun after the longest night of the year. Flame on! Oooh, ahhh, pretty...cough cough. Then we open all the windows and doors so that the new year can blow out all the smoke. Yeah, that's it.

I hope your holidays are just as much fun as ours. And yes, I say "holidays" because I don't give a crap which ones you celebrate, I just hope they're happy.

X3 Teaser Screencap

"Listen Ri. Ya gotta stop breaking the danger room. Storm's getting really pissed."

Another Holiday Tradition Continues

Echoing my Thanksgiving turkey tradition, I'm only halfway through decorating the tree and it's already crispy. If only life were as consistent as holidays.

Is There No Justice??????

I finally found that stupid Netflix disk that's been lost for a week and now the red mailey thingie is missing! AAAAAAHHHHHHHGGGGGGGGGHHHHHH!!!!!!!

On the other hand, I finally found the picture I wanted to use for a tattoo. That's been lost for a couple of years now. I guess I can wait a week for another disk.

Astonishing

I like Emma trying to read telepathically through Wolvie's head.

When Elves Drink Too Much

Dickhead the Christmas Duck

We went to get a tree today. The guys there tied it on top of the van for me. I had to come up with a plan to get it down once I got home, as I can't reach up there without the assistance of technology, but then I realized it really doesn't matter because it's FRICKIN' COLD out there and I'm not going back out! Mr. Tannenbaum can have a nice little nitey-nite in the driveway and the much larger spousal unit will get it in the morning, when the sunlight gives the false hope that one's fingers might not turn blue and break off in the process.

Meanwhile, my littlest princess is traumatized because some dumbass six-foot duck hugged her while I was getting bagels. Yes, it's that kind of store. Oh man. Every so often she breaks into tears, followed by sobbing "Mommy I don't like the duck". I am almost of the mind to go back there and kick that duck's ass. Actually, I was of that mind at the time, which is why he left in a hurry to go harrass other customers. Of course, I feel like an ass because a duck hugged my kid while I was getting bagels. Nice work, mom. Way to look after your kid responsibly. What if he had been Duck the Ripper? Perhaps I can beat out my guilt upon Mr. Duck. Hmmm. I don't think I'm doing anything this weekend...

And now, I am going to take my frozen ass over to my rocking chair with a big steaming cup of expensive cocoa and read "historical fiction" until my husband gets home.

Set Me Up, Petey!

Thank you thank you to Joan (one of my favorite photo goddesses) for finding this fabu pic of Wolvie in the midst of a Fastball Special! (for those of you who don't know what that is, it's when he has to go really far or really high, so Colossus just picks him up and throws him.) Ah, I could gaze at it all day, but alas, I must go change a poopy diaper. No, it is not mine.

Angus: 2:10

And he held the fork aloft and said unto them "Pantate! Ummmm!" and they were amazed.

Another Brilliant Newsflash

MSNBC has posted yet another piece of urgent medical news, entitled "Longer Needles Needed for Fatter Butts." It's starting to look like The Onion.

I'm Having a "Traditional" Thanksgiving.

That's right, it's noon and my turkey is still frozen.

Cooking Shows Should Carry Warnings

"DO NOT TRY THIS AT HOME"

I just made some seriously weird shit for dinner. I'm trying to rescue it by baking it in the oven. It was supposed to be fried. Rachel Ray, you are seriously messed up. I know, some of you tried to warn me about her, but it looked so easy and homey. I got sucked in. I'm a total food slut. "Look, you can make it crispy and cheesy and..." YEAH! When will I learn? Julia, why did you ever leave us?

Dubloons Accepted

My kids like to play restaurant. Today it's Cafe Aaargh!!! They serve seafood, kelp cookies, sea horse milk, and citrus fruits (because, my daughter told me, friends don't let friends get scurvy!). They said that if you arrive at the cafe and there is nobody at the hostess station and nobody comes when you ring the bell, you should run because it means they're being raided by pirates and she's off trying to save their goods. Likewise, if you are dining and an alarm goes off, it is a pirate raid and you should draw your sword. If you don't have a sword, run for it. They have a special offer right now. For two dollars you can get a coupon for two full dinners. The money goes to a charity to prevent and cure scurvy.

I don't remember being this demented when I was that young. Mine developed over time.

This Needs a Caption...

I Anticipate the Next Big Announcement

There's an article on MSN entitled, (and like Dave Barry says, I'm not making this up) "Obesity Pills Work Best With Diet, Excercise". Yes, somebody, and I pray it was not we taxpayers, funded a STUDY to find this out! Thank goodness for people with medical degrees, huh? The rest of us would never know this stuff if not for their superior intelligence and education. I mean, who could have guessed such a thing? As for it qualifying as news, well, that's another topic.

Someone Needs to Be Beaten

As is often the case, it's someone in the world of advertising. The latest thorn in my side is the phrase "artisan bread". Oooh, I hate this. I guess "gourmet", which was meaningless in the first place but served its purpose well, has lost its impact. I would think that the phrase, used simply as it is and not as an advertising catch phrase, means bread that is not only hand-made by a person, but also has an individual characteristic that has been achieved by artful development and would not be duplicated by somone else. The combination of grains and the texture of crust perhaps. It is individual, and not just a skill, a job, a production, but an art. Not for mass production. Yet, I'm hearing it a lot more. The Panera chain uses the term. Their bread is very good, but simply by being a chain, they negate that characteristic. If they were a single bakery with one or two people making bread, each in his or her own way and you couldn't get it at any other bakery, that would be one thing. This? No. Yesterday I actually saw a coupon for Pepperidge Farm frozen "artisan bread" dough! WTF? And this year, our church's harvest festival put it on the flier. It was still the same bread they sell every year, but since they're calling it "artisan", they charged like two dollars more per loaf or something, which basically is what it comes down to. "Artisan" is the new "gourmet" and the only difference between it and regular bread will be a couple of bucks.

The worst part- yuppies will fall for it and spread it around like herpes. Good bakers will have to adopt the term to keep up with the market and then the price of a decent loaf of bread will be completely absurd. I can't stand what those frickin' yuppie dorks do to food. They elevate the trendy, whether it's crap or not. In a couple of years there will be a different trendy wine, vodka, chocolate, whatever, and guess what. The former trendy one will still taste the same, but the taste was never the point in the first place. Don't tell them that of course. Does not compute. Just hope that they don't discover YOUR favorite "whatever" because soon, you won't be able to afford it anymore and the only ones who can are the ones who won't know enough to appreciate it. But fear not, eventually it will fall from grace and though you may be considered fashionably ignorant, it's better than being fashionably idiotic. Artisan bread. They're fuckin' kidding me.

The Strange Legacies We Leave

My dad died on Sunday. Today when I was doing dishes, I noticed his coffee mug on the side of the dish rack. That's where it always stayed, waiting for him. For some reason, he didn't like to put it in the cabinet with the rest of the mugs. No, HIS had a unicorn on it and could not be subjected to the cooties of the more common inhabitants of my cupboard. This mug survived The Great Mug Disaster of Nineteen Eighty-somethingorother. He had a small galley kitchen. There was a narrow "wall" that was actually more like a pillar at one end of the kitchen on which he had a rack to hang the mugs on. Well, one day when he was making dinner and doing "ballet", he decided to combine some kind of pirouette with some kind of jete and kicked the whole rack off the wall. No, dad wasn't a dancer, he was a regular guy (mostly) which is what made it all the more embarrassing and caused him to blame it on the cats when his live-in girlfriend asked him what the hell happened to the mugs. A couple survived, one of which was his unicorn mug. His very favorite. That was a close one. Needless to say, he was more careful about combining ballet and cooking. So now I have this mug and I'm wondering what to do with it. Should I put it in the cabinet to catch cooties from my other mugs? Should I use it when I already have two other mugs that are my regular ones? Should I leave it on the rack where he put it? Hmmm...

We Made These

I'll write some thoughts about our halloween later. And I do have thoughts.

CRANKY!!!!!!

I waited until the baby was asleep and I rolled out another pie crust. I started to make the filling. I followed the recipe until the end, and THAT'S when I realized that they had left out a step! I poured in the filling, thinking it was awfully runny, and after it went into the oven, I realized I hadn't done anything with the brown sugar mixture. It was supposed to go in UNDER the liquid and now it's going to be gross so why is it even in the oven? Idunno. Because I'm an idiot. I'm very, very unhappy, in a grumbly, not friendly sort of way.

A Bright Spot

What a crappy, crappy, crappy day. It was good to hear that the Cafe Du Monde reopened today. At least I know that one thing is right in the world. Now if I could just be there right now.

In Case You Are Wondering

I'm sitting here NOT making six dozen pumpin-shaped, orange frosted cookies. I'm not doing the tons of laundry that need to be done. I'm not doing any school lessons with the kids, and I'm not out shopping for stuff I need in the next few days. Well, well. I did, however, eat breakfast, get relatively dressed, and do a load of dishes. Hearing the dishwasher going is always encouraging to me.

I'm not particularly tired as I sometimes am, and I'm not feeling blue or anything. The kids aren't being evil. I just feel like sitting here. For no particular reason. Just sitting here. Well, my ritalin is kicking in, and that always brings me to my senses. I swear that damn pill practically talks to me. "Now Rima, it's not so hard. Just go over there, and do this. See? That was simple. Now do this. That's it, you're doing great! It's not complicated at all."

So in a few minutes, I will be mixing cookie dough while the kids have their elevensies. Then we'll clean up the foodage and I'll work on Alex's history project with her while guiding Stevie through whatever workbook section she feels like working on. I will, at that time, be completely ignoring the screaming and the crayon missiles being launched by my son. And then, Idunno. Piano, lunch, laundry, math, desperate need for a nap, suddenly inspired Jackman's Table entry... could be anything.

Good Dr. Doggie!

I was browsing through a women's magazine while sipping my morning coffee. There was an article in which several doctors were interviewed for medical advice that they think is important but that most people don't think of. There were expected things, of course, like how every household should have Benadryl and baby aspirin on hand, but my favorite piece of medical advice was this: To insure proper medical care in a hospital, bring individually wrapped treats like cookies and chocolate to give the staff members. I wonder if that was a full-credit course in medical school, or just one of those pass/fail, half-credit things.

Epitaph: She died of pie.

Did you know that you can hurt yourself with chocolate? I didn't know that. I do now. You know that "death by chocolate" dessert that some restaurants have? Well, that isn't it. It's here, right in my kitchen and in my stomach, and I am afraid, very afraid. There are worse ways to die, but to never want to eat chocolate again, well, that's tragic. This is assuming that I survive. Tony Bourdain would not survive this pie. (though my crust, as usual, was to be worshipped) Let this be a warning so that lives may be saved! But tell eegee to send the recipe anonymously to Sardi's. Heh heh.

Unsupervised

The girls are in bed. The baby is asleep on the couch. This means one thing. I'M GONNA MAKE ME SOME PIE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

What Really Goes On at Our House

You know that baby toy that is made of different sized rings that they have to stack on the post? Well, my son unscrewed the post and is using it as a microphone to sing. He's a year and a half old. And yes, I'm well aware that it's after eleven pm. That's just my life.

Those Wacky Scots

I recently went to a Scottish festival, which was a lot of fun, and many clans had tents set up where you could go and get info on them and meet fellow clansfolk. They are all listed in the program, along with their mottos. This made for good reading. Typically, they are about being brave, being strong, being steadfast, etc. Clan MacKintosh, however, seems to be a little more special. Their motto is "Touch not the cat without a glove". Hmmm.

Now I wonder, is this a safety thing or a cleanliness thing? Were they germ freaks and could have basically picked anything besides "cat"? "Milk not the cow...", "Shear not the sheep..." etc. Or is it a safety issue, where they know cats scratch so wear a glove when you touch them. OR do they mean the CAT has to wear gloves to cover the claws? Did the MacKintoshes put gloves on their cats? Can you picture how the vermin must have taunted the poor things, not to mention the dogs, though I would assume the dogs had their own similar problems imposed upon them. Probably diapers.

Now our clan motto is "Dread God". (Well, not mine really, my husband's. I'm Puerto Rican and our clan motto is "Ever on guard for falling coconuts") Supposedly, that means to have a healthy fear and respect for God, but I'm married to one and I'm pretty sure that it's because they were naughty lads. I bet there was lots of "Oh please oh please oh please God, if ye let me live, I swear I'll not touch another drap o cratur" ZZZZAP! and " I wasnae kissin' Jenny, I was savin' her from chokin', cross my heart and hope te ACK!"

He's at it again...

I am amazed, truly amazed at how deceptive the size of a toddler's stomach is. Angus had another pukefest. He's sleeping now. I was lucky that I had a clean pair of sweatpants left so I can pick up my husband at the station tonight. Our couch needs to be condemned.

And on a completely unrelated note, if you are a "lassie", and a Scotsman asks you if you have any Scottish in you, don't answer! It's a trick!

AAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!!! CALL 911!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I was cooking dinner when Angus came to me, holding his finger out in front of himself, squeaking and looking distressed. I assumed he had boobooed it and wanted it kissed. As my lips touched the adorable, little, pink fingertip, I realized that he wasn't hurt, he was showing me a booger!!!!!!!

Remember when Snoopy kissed Lucy? Yeah, that was me!

Mmmm, Oooey Hughey Wolverchops...

Maybe His Penis Kept Getting in the Way.

I have a cheap, laminate and plastic, piece-o-crap violin that I thought would make a nice wall decoration. So after we painted the livingroom, I asked my husband to hang it up for me. For some reason he said it wasn't possible. He said he needed to do research. Whaaaa???? Ooookay. I was getting impatient about it and wondered if he had finished doing his research on whacking two nails into a wall, but no, he asked for more patience.

So months later, last night, he returned home with a rather obtrusive, padded contraption with a block of wood for a base, that attaches to the wall. (I wonder if he did research on how to attach the block of wood to the wall) It is a special hanger for a real instrument that is played every day by a musician. It's for them to store it within reach, rather than have to go in and out of the case all the time. It's not for attaching a decoration to your wall. It would be like creating a big, padded set of brackets to hang a picture on a wall. I'm not looking to store my real violin, I'm looking to decorate the living room with a fake one. Then again, I'm female so I don't constantly have visions of complicated hardware and engineering feats running through my brain. I got stuff to do.

So with his idea rejected, this morning he asked me "what my vision is" for it. I think he has been too long in the entertainment industry. I don't "have a vision". I just wanted the damn thing nailed to the wall. He said he would think about what he needed to do to make that happen. Jeez Louise.

Of course, when he left for work, I got two pieces of scotch tape, two nails, a hammer, and voila! My "vision" has appeared. Whew, that was tough!

Home Schooling Vs. Traditional Schooling

There are countless reasons why people are for or against home schooling. Some political, some social, educational, etc. and on and on, but here is the real bottom line.

In school, when you do a nice job on your multiplication tables, you get a gold star or a smiley face. At home, when you do a nice job on your multiplication tables, you get to watch "Attack of the Giant Leeches".

'nuff said

My Darling Son

Just ralphed in my hand. Don't worry, I washed them before posting. He has also removed and hidden the "childproof" safety lock we finally found to keep him out of the dishwasher. It's probably with the cable box card that we never found. We used to have a very naughty cat who would hide the waterguns while we were sleeping so that we couldn't squirt him when he was misbehaving. They would have made a dangerous team.

FEMA is no longer giving the evacuees debit cards. I can understand that, but the solution they came up with is a head slapper. Hurricane victims are required to apply for FEMA aid through their website. Yes, on the computers they don't have with the electricity they don't have. When they do this, they will get a direct deposit into their bank that doesn't exist anymore, but they can always use the atm cards that they left in their now nonexistent homes.

Now, I can see one really stupid person at FEMA suggesting this, but I can't see everyone else saying "oh yeah that's a good idea!" I mean, it's kind of obvious, isn't it????

POP QUIZ!

Okay, here's where we see if you guys have been paying attention.

This morning my husband left and won't be back until late Saturday night. Guess what Angus just started doing?

In Denial?

Then read this. http://www.lifeaftertheoilcrash.net/ And not to add to the panic or anything, but there will be a chocolate shortage, with prices climbing soon.

At Least They Haven't Started the Hazing

Poor, poor, new harem boy. Sir Paul and Wolverine were trying to explain to him that people named James who are cool don't actually use it. They go by a completely unrelated name, like Paul or Logan or Wolverine. Wolvie offered him Emilio, since he's not using it anymore, but Jamie didn't like it. Yes, he likes to be called Jamie, and you know what happened when they heard that? Tino and Craig pantsed him while Bobby hit him in the head with a rack of ribs for having a sissy-boy name. So no James or any derivative, ESPECIALLY not Jamie. For now, they're calling him New Guy, or worse. I can't repeat them here. He's taking it like a man though. He says being a harem boy of mine is worth any suffering. So true, so true. For your viewing pleasure, here's a picture of New Guy.

Devastation in the South

I just can't believe what these people are going through. I can't imagine being separated from my children, how it would feel for them, how they would survive, how we could ever possibly find each other again. I can't imagine having to hide my family in a dark corner somewhere, to keep them safe from the fighting and shooting.

My daughter had her piano lesson today. She has always shied away from jazz pieces, not really liking them and having difficulty with their rhythm. Today she decided to learn one because jazz comes from New Orleans and she wants this to be her personal tribute. Her teacher took that lightheartedly, but I had to keep from crying. I hope that someday she'll be able to play in that once beautiful city, and that it will be beautiful then too.

I'm thankful that the majority of the devastated area is NOT full of shooting and looting and fighting and killing, but of people trying to help each other as best they can. I have no words for our government. At least none that won't put me on the homeland security shit list.

Size Really Does Matter

I've been trying to understand this for a long time and it just escapes me. Why do the little pieces of Doritos taste better than a regular sized chip? Coffee tastes better in a teacup than in a mug. Muffins taste better if you eat them by breaking off little pieces instead of biting from the whole thing. But cookies- definitely bigger is better. No question. The science of this completely escapes me.

New Harem Boy

Mowing and weed whacking commence tomorrow.

Well, I didn't get the photos I wanted, but I got two that are good enough. Now the main problem is deprogramming. He is a rabid Red Sux fan. I haven't told the others yet, as they will turn him into hamburger. Here is Bobby cooking the last Red Sux fan to enter the house. He's trying to shake his remains out of whatever power tool another (who shall remain nameless) harem boy attacked him with.

Harem Troubles

I'm trying to add another harem boy to mow the lawn shirtless and "stuff", but his people just won't cooperate. His audition was unprecedented and all I need is a couple of photos but they are most uncooperative. I'm going to have to send in Kristin. That'll teach those self-important ninnies. Really, they're holding up my paperwork!

Be Afraid. Be Very Afraid.

So what the hell is a chicken fry? Just hearing the words, I assume that it's like a clam bake or a pig roast, but according to a television commercial that I saw the other night, it's some weird kind of fast food substance that comes in a french fry box. Again, I ask you. What the hell is a chicken fry?

(I do not condone actually trying said substance to find out and I am not liable for any damage resulting from such an experiment)

The Miss America Pageant in a Nutshell

Here's what one contestant had to say about keeping fit.

"I cut holes out of trash bags and wore them while I ran," says Miss Nevada 2004, Elizabeth Muto. "It really detoxified my body and, to this day, I continue to see results."

Is there really anything more to say?

I Watched "Troy"

It didn't suck as badly as "King Arthur" did. Brad Pitt has improved since "Interview With the Vampire". Orlando Bloom was Orlando Bloom. I liked some of the actors in it. Peter O'Toole makes me laugh, even in the most serious roles. I don't know why. He's just like that. The guy who played Boromir in LOTR played Odysseus, which was really cool. Odysseus is one of my favorite guys of all time. I wouldn't trust him for anything, but I really like him. Now, this Helen chick. Supposedly blessed by Aphrodite to be the most gorgeous and enchanting woman on the planet. Hmmm, you'd think that in Hollywood, there might have been a decent pool of beautiful women. Clearly, acting wasn't a requisite so that opens up the choices a bit. They cast someone who was pretty in a regular sort of way. I remember her from when she was on General Hospital or something years back when I actually watched it. She had brown hair and was about eleven years old. Something freaky about that. Brian Cox was Agamemnon, another guy who makes me giggle, despite his tragic and sometimes wicked life. I don't know why. Maybe it's because he was such a freakin' idiot. I mean, get a clue. Anyway, Brian Cox played an equally obnoxiously evil character in "X-2" as Reverend Stryker. (Oh excuse me, that's COLONEL Stryker. I forgot it's Bryan Singer's universe. @@ Read a comic book, dude?)

Anyway, when I read about the Trojan war (stop laughing, and you know you are) or see a movie like this, several thoughts come to mind. One, if I were Paris' mother/father/brother/sister/whatever, I would have beaten the snot out of him for bringing all of Greece to slaughter us and burn our homes because he was thinking with his dick. True love my ass. Like looks had nothing to do with it.

If I were Hector's wife ( I don't remember her name and I didn't get to hear it since my husband installed "better" speakers) I would have given Paris a second whuping after he ran like chicken shit from Menelaus, leaving my husband to fight his little love spat for him. And then after Hector's slaughter, when Helen tried to comfort me, I'd bitch slap her empty little head right off her shoulders. Man, what were these people thinking? When I read Greek plays and stuff, I notice a theme. I call it "STOOOPUD". Did they all get too much sun or something?

And the skirts. Oy. Those guys are not Scotsmen. No way. They look like girlie soldiers, they really do. It was kinda fun, but not really. Mostly for the comedy aspects. Rent it or not.

It's a Strange World

We live on the corner of our street. The very first (or last) house on the block. The mail carrier always parks in front of the house NEXT DOOR. That would be the second house on the block. He or she then walks all the way down to the other end of the street and starts delivering mail. He or she then gets back to the truck, next door to our house, and proceeds to get in and DRIVE to our house. Maybe thirty feet. Gets out, puts the mail in our mailbox, and drives away. Every time. WTF is up with that?

In other weird behavior, today I saw a stinging thingie, a hornet or something, pick up an entire grasshopper (one of those big ones like Moses used to use) and fly away with it. That was just freaky.

What? WHAT?

What the hell is a sleep number and why should we care?

No, reliving every horrible moment of my day won't make me feel better, but it might get you a good smack so then again, maybe it will.

Today I saw some undies that were nothing but ruffles. 'Cause nothing makes a girl feel sexier than doubling the size of her ass and hips.

And if I have to listen to that toothpaste commercial twit and her bleached blonde hair giggling about her red lipstick ever again, I'm going to throw a shoe through the tv. You know a man wrote that stupid shit. I don't care how much she got paid, she should feel shame every time it airs.

Now go away and leave me alone before I bite you.

Wisdom of the Ages

Today I had a conversation with my 3yo that lead to a question of left or right, which she usually gets but didn't this time. So my 7yo said "I've been alive for seven years so that's an easy question for me. Yup, when you ask me that, I can just say 'left'. I've known left and right for years now."

Then she used her worldly experience to advise her little sister on going to work with Daddy.
7yo: I'm telling you, going to work with Daddy is awesome! But you have to watch him carefully. Don't let him play any violent video games and don't let him eat at McDonald's.

3yo: I won't!

7yo: And if you do catch him doing that stuff, you have to tell mom so she can yell at him.

I'm in Love!!!!!!!!!!

Mundungus

It's what I call my son. He's always where he shouldn't be, doing things he shouldn't be doing, taking things that don't belong to him, and he has a particular fondness for the silverwear drawer. He undoes the babyproofing locks and goes under the baby gate on the stairs. Yesterday he stole the card out of the cable box. We've looked everywhere we could think of. When I looked in the file cabinet, I found his stash and it was amazing. There was a spatula, two spoons, a bracelet, a couple of ponytail holders, a photograph, Brian's former comb, and some cheerios. Of course, the card wasn't in there and we still haven't found it. I'm pretty sure it's not his only hiding place. Whenever we ask him where it is, he laughs at us. I checked the dishwasher because he's always in there. I mean IN there. He opens it up and climbs on in. I haven't figured out how to keep him out. That's just the tip of the iceberg. My little Mundungus. What to do.

Trust me, that's just a technicality

My 3yo: (to me) Wow, you draw really good! You could be a drawer when you grow up!

My 7yo: Um, she's over eighteen you know.

Dumping out my brain...

Can someone please tell me what "microwave safe" means? Does it just mean that it won't make your microwave explode? I thought it meant that the dish in question wouldn't get hot enough to melt your face off, which they indeed seem to do, even if some of the food is still cold. I didn't know that glazed stoneware was full of fat and water. Gee, the things you learn.

And speaking of learning things, it's true- if you move to Hollyweird, you get brain cooties. Perfectly normal people become mental.

And speaking of Hollyweird, I watched a movie last night for the first time in a long time. It was "King Arthur". It was boring, the end.

And speaking of boring, Hillshire Farms lite keilbasa is missing the salt.

And speaking of keilbasa- no no no. That belongs on my other blog. It always comes back to Hugh, doesn't it?

I'm Officially Toasted

My brain is gone, completely gone. I sent my daughter to check on the baby because he was being so quiet that I figured he was up to something. Oh he was up to something alright. Sleeping in my lap!!!!!!!!! God I'm messed up.

Harry Potter #6

This contains spoilers so if you read it, don't whine to me that I ruined your life. Here's your warning. The rest is your choice.







I really liked this book. Of course, I expected to. I really liked all of them. I didn't, however, feel about it the way others told me I would. I didn't feel upset, betrayed, etc. I don't think they realized half of what they read. I'm seeing things very differently than they are. I don't think Dumbledore's death is what they saw it as. I think they're in for some real surprises in the next book.

I'm glad for a few things- that Lupin found love; that Hermione and Ron weren't thrown into a romantic relationship, though their feelings are clearly there; and I'm especially glad that Fleur was redeemed at the end. It disturbs me when an exceptionally beautiful woman is portrayed as shallow and selfish. Clearly there was more to her than that, given her competition in the Triwizard Cup. I think that stereotype is divisive, not to mention offensive and untrue. Women are what they are, beautiful or not. I'm glad she put her future MIL in her place, although I love Molly to pieces. Molly reminds me of myself. I'm also glad Molly was able to accept her and make a loving gesture when she saw the truth.

Now if I could only get my hands on some Puking Pastilles...

I Just Want to Know One Thing

Why is there a pistachio inside our air conditiner?

Happy Happy Joy Joy

Wolvietat had been tagged by another blogger to list ten things that bring her joy throughout the day. I thought that was nice. I'll give it a shot, though it changes with the seasons. Here are my current happy moments, in random order.

1. Watching my son's cheek fat jiggle when he walks
2. The smell of the trees
3. The sound of the dishwasher
4. Hearing my daughter practice the piano and realizing she's my daughter
5. The sound of the cicadas (but not the sight! Eew! shoot me!)
6. Seeing my husband's number on the caller ID
7. Reading a new story post at Jackman's Table
8. Coffee
9. Seeing the children snuggled up together
10. When my daughter mispronounces something cute

Oh hell, let's add some more. I could use the encouragement.

11. The feel of wool and wooden knitting needles
12. The moment my husband finally comes to bed and I snuggle up and fall asleep
13. My son trying to play peekaboo
14. The sight of a freshly weeded garden bed
15. The smell of the garden
16. The sight of all the cute, wiggly little toes in this house
17. SNIKT!

Okay, I'm too tired to think of any more. Nighty night.

Silly Little Man!

FOOLISH MORTAL: I swear dude, it was better than a pastry chef!
WOLVIE: *chuckle* Bub, ain't NOTHIN' better than a pastry chef. 'Cept maybe a librarian.

I'm baking a carrot cake today. I was looking at some online reviews of the recipe I'm using and some were pretty amusing. There's one chick who was displeased because it didn't come out good at all, even though she "followed the recipe EXACTLY". Then she goes on to tell about the substitutions she made, and the adjustment in baking time because she has a special kind of oven that bakes differently. Uh, okay. And then she complained because she had made it for her boyfriend who is "VERY PICKY" and she was afraid to give him any because she knew he wouldn't like it and now she had nothing to give him. Honey, dump the loser. If I spent that much work on something, my husband would eat it and if it tasted like crap, he'd just toss it aside and...well, nevermind. He'd appreciate my efforts.

Another person said the cake was "Excellent!" but then said hers never actually baked all the way and was mostly raw. Hmmm, okay. One lady said that the cake is her husband's new best friend. I assume then, that nobody is allowed to eat it. Then there's the person who said it came out "better than a pastry chef". Well, maybe, maybe not. Has he ever tried a pastry chef?

One person said it's "good but very unhealthy". It's CAKE! You know, as in dessert? Sweets? Treats? No good for you? Silly person. Okay, it's true that I tend to use carrot cake as a meal substitute, but at least I know what I'm doing. I don't tell myself, "hey, you know what would be better for me than some grilled chicken and salad?" Well, I'm off to grate more carrots now. Mmmm...

An "Is it Me?" Thought

Sometimes there are things that I find to be common sense no-brainers. Obvious enough, yet nobody else seems to think so. I don't know why. My current example is this supreme court justice poo. Each president tries to tip the balance by appointing a conservative or liberal judge. I don't understand this at all. Aren't the scales of justice supposed to be level? Isn't justice supposed to be blind? Don't they have that very statue in front of their courthouse? I would think that appointing a judge with a liberal or conservative record would be unconstitutional. I would think that they don't qualify because the supreme court is supposed to be neutral and serve the entire country, not just the groups that happen to agree with the current administration. Shouldn't only judges with an even track record be allowed to serve? And let's remind them of that while we're at it, that they're supposed to SERVE us, not rule over us. I think it's probably something they forget, having been appointed for their personal opinions. Really, does this make sense to anyone else and why does nobody mention it?

Don't Leave Me Unsupervised

http://www.shamelessrestaurants.com/readstory_new.php?uid=1506

I have nothing to say in my defense. I was feeling naughty and I did it.

LOL!

Okay, let me start by saying that I'm not catty and I have nothing against Mariah Carey, but I saw this picture and it cracked me up so bad that I had to share it. I'm PRAYING that this was photoshopped. I understand the concept of contouring, like when you use blush to emphasize your cheekbones or whatever, but this is just above and beyond ridiculous! They painted on cartoon superhero abs! She looks like my freakin' avatar! I have to wonder if she looked in the mirror before she went out. Another option would be to wear a shirt that goes all the way down. I know she's not used to that but honey, time doesn't stand still no matter how much money you have, and she's gotta do it sometime. She's gonna hit that forty mark soon. Hey, if she still looks that good, more power to her, let her wear whatever she wants, but apparently, it's becoming an issue for her. I mean, that's gotta be desperation. Oh man, I'm still cracking up.

Miss Manners Looks for Dirt

The other day, Alex went to that craft camp at Michael's. When we picked her up, Stevie asked her "did you boopsie (their polite word for fart) at the other kids?" Alex looked shocked and said "of course not". Then Stevie said "Did you pick your nose?" I just cracked up. Alex was looking at me like "what is her problem?"

More Trouble in Paradise

Sometimes I wonder if they're more trouble than they're worth. It seems that a certain bad boy has been moonlighting, according to harem universe.com. Methinks there's a serious demotion coming. Somebody is going to spend quite a lot of time cleaning Tino's cleats.

Noisy Neighbors

"I don't care if he's your husband. If he doesn't stop snoring I'm gonna trach him!"

Because I Really Need it...

Now that makes me feel a little better.

During dinner this evening, my daughter went to put ketchup on her hamburger and my 3yo yelled "Squeeze the hell out of it Alex!"

The Politics of My Imaginary Love Life

We're in summer reruns now, which is kinda good because I miss stuff. Last night I watched The Late Late Show, and it was about a month old. First, Craig did a really good, really funny impersonation of Garrison Kiellor, which I was really impressed with and so I gave him a harem promotion. Unfortunately, he then asked a guest, "What's the Tony awards?" which knocked him back down again. I'm concerned that Hugh isn't doing a proper job of educating him. Okay, so he's a busy man. Priorities!

Overenthusiastic Journalists

I'm reading reports of the London bombings. An article on MSN said "New York was on heightened alert Thursday." It IS Thursday. Later in the article it said that Union Station in New Haven was evacuated late Thursday afternoon. It is currently 12:29 pm on Thursday. Do they know something that we don't?

The Final Frontier

My 7yo to her grandfather: I have a friend in Philadelphia who's moving far away to another continent. Timbuktu, I think.

Me: Detroit.

My 7yo: Oh yeah, Detroit. That was it.

It's the Rebel in Me.

I would have done it anyway, but somehow, being in a bad mood gave me some satisfaction when I did it. The box said "do not prepare taco shells in toaster oven". Haha. Just try to stop me!

Weird Moment

I just found myself saying to my daughter, without even thinking about it, "If you don't eat your meat, you can't have any pudding." I'd say it was a flashback, but I never took drugs.

One morning during our vacation in Vermont, one of these was on our patio screen. Isn't it beautiful? It's about four inches across. It's a Luna moth. It looks just like leaves with dewdrops. Unfortunately, although they aren't yet endangered, their population is decreasing rapidly. See, they find each other by glowing in the moonlight, and with all the artificial light from lamp posts, parking lot lights and other outdoor security lights as well as the glow from windows, they're being led astray. How sad. I feel very lucky to have seen one and shown it to my children. It was just so beautiful. The picture doesn't do it justice. Gypsy moths and Tent Caterpillar moths, on the other hand, should be fed to each other.

Wave the flag woohoo.

I'm starting to hate this place. Go ahead and call me unamerican. It doesn't matter, because I'm not rich enough to count as an American anyway. The government decides who has rights and who doesn't. You have to pay for them.

If Walmart wants to build a store and they happen to like your block, say goodbye to your house. They'll pay you pennies on the dollar, essentially stealing your home and your money. Then, of course, there's no way in hell you could afford to buy another house with that pittance because they cost a mint. But it's for the good of the people. "People" apparently meaning not you, because you don't have billions of dollars. Yes, when I think of ways to improve my community, I don't think of schools, roads, libraries, hospitals, I think shopping malls. Right. Maybe the new homeless of New London can pitch tents in the parking lot, if they're willing to pay enough rent.

Of course, this will never happen in Beverly Hills or Southport or Scarsdale. It will happen in the poor and middle class neighborhoods. Mostly the poor. They have always fed the rich. And the rich complain about paying for welfare. Yes, I see what a strain it puts on their family budgets. Puhleese. I can't imagine what the supreme court justices were smoking when they made this legal. Twenty dollar bills?

We don't live in a free market economy, but a free market society and that's just wrong.