THIS is why I had children!

Have you seen the Chuck E. Cheese's commercial with the new "25 cent fun" slogan? Well it came on and my 7yo said "I'll show you 25 cent fun". She went and got a quarter, dropped it into the swear jar, and yelled "Crap!" and beamed with joy. Moments like that make it all worth it!

LSG POSTAL NINJA!!!!!

Someone in Arizona is crazy and wonderful. I was having a rather crappy day today when I decided to get the mail. In it was a plain white envelope with "LSG" as the only return address. Inside was an origami strawberry and five of those plastic fortune telling fish thingies that curl up in your hand. I really needed that silliness! Thank you LSG Postal Ninja, whoever you are! XOXOXOXO!

The Vapors

I always wondered what it meant when I'd read that someone had the vapors. I noticed that it was only women, but I figured it was because they were thought of as so weak and fragile. Someone told me that it was gas, and that it would get trapped and painful because of corsets. People could die of the vapors if the corset caused gastric torsion, but I finally looked it up and found that it was more mental than physical in its symptoms.

The vapors was their way of saying PMS. How one dies of PMS, I don't know, but here's a nice picture of a lady with the vapors. I think her husband asked her why she was so cranky that day

Admiring the Architecture of New Harem Boy

I have to stay up until the laundry is done, and I am too tired to have a brain, so here are some pretty pictures. Again, I messed with a couple because I'm that way. I don't know why Blogger has cut them off on the right, but they're still lovely.

#1 Auditioning for the exotic dancing portion of the harem duties.



#2 Working at his primary duty of looking pretty for Mistress. Nice touch with the eye sparkle. He gets extra dessert.



#3 Thinking that his encroachment on Wolverine's territory was totally worth it.

#4 Stunned by my beauty

#5 I'm sorry, darling, but no smoking allowed inside the house. You and Wolvie will have to go outside together.

Parenting WIN!

My daughter had been using newspaper for an "arps and craps" project. When I went up to get her laundry, the newspapers were all over the place in a big mess, so I told her to collect them all and take them out of her room. Of course, this meant to put them in the newspaper bin. However, her alien brain works differently. For some reason, she got one of those green supermarket shopping bags, put all the newspapers in it, and put the whole thing in the livingroom, where one of the younger podlings dumped it all over the couch, followed by youngest podling tripping on the bag.

Of course, I yelled at her. I didn't understand why she didn't just put them in the bin, which was infinitely more simple than the option she chose. I, still shreiking, said that I hadn't told her to put them in a grocery bag in the livingroom, to which she replied, "You didn't tell me not to."

OH NO SHE DIDN'T, GIRLFRIEND! OH YES SHE DID!

I told her "Do not pull that crap with me, child!" Following her around like a crazy stalker, and still yelling, I asked if she had eaten any, because I hadn't told her not to. Did she stick any up her butt? I hadn't told her not to. Did she pack any up and send them to a needy family in Cambodia, because I hadn't told her not to! She was half laughing, half terrified. She thought I had finally lost my mind. (Little does she know that it's long gone).

That's right, kid. You cannot outsmartass me. I'm where you got your smartassery from!!! I've been a smartass many years longer than you have. It just ain't gonna happen.

My Triumphant Return!

It's been a shamefully long time since I've posted here. I've been trying to learn to edit video, make screencaps, use photo editors, etc. so I will begin my return with a picspam of my newest harem boy. The last picture is for those of you who can't figure out who he is. Yes, I've altered a couple. Enjoy.

How to Broil a Steak

Put the steak into a preheated oven set on broil. When the smoke detector starts screaming, it's time to flip the steak. When the oven decides that it's so hot that it must lock itself for your safety, it's time to turn it off. When the oven finally stops holding your dinner hostage, and allows you to unlock it, steak is perfectly done. You're welcome.

Have a Good Journey, My Friend

You were my little brother, and now you're my ancestor. Smartass. May the road rise up to meet you, and may the wind be always at your back. I'll see you again some day at the end of my own journey. You are forever in my heart.

RIP Shaun O'Donnell 1969-2009

It's a Wonderful Life

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Random Strangeness

Today I ordered a pair of shoes specifically to show off my hand-knit socks. They're cute and comfy too. I have to make lots of socks now.

My kids set up a gift registry for Seymour Butts at JCPenney today. They're so special, paricularly our darling little Wednesday.

I put on my contact lenses, got into the shower, forgot about my contact lenses, and was very confused about being able to see in the shower.

For the past couple of weeks, I've had a desperate thirst for chocolate milk. I don't know why. I NEED it. I have no idea what could possibly be missing from my diet. I don't give a crap about regular milk, and regular chocolate is not such a big deal, but CHOCOLATE MILK! MUST HAVE!!!!!! Is there some kind of foundation for kids like me?

I Tried to Be Nice. Really I Did.

So my mom's cousin got on my nerves. At a family reunion a couple of years ago, we all exchanged contact info so that our family could keep in touch. This resulted in her constantly spamming us, mostly with political bullshit. For a while I ignored it. Then she sent one that was extremely personally offensive, and the subject was "If you disagree, delete". In other words, I want to tell you off, but you don't get to answer me because I'm a passive-aggressive chicken shit moron.

Not once has she sent me an email asking about the kids or telling me what she's up to or what her kids or grandkids are up to. I even emailed her back once, saying so. I never got a response, just more spam. So then I told her to stop sending me political and religious emails. No response, just more spam. I put her address in my junk box, but instead of bouncing, it just goes into the junk box. Sometimes it doesn't make it there, it just goes into my inbox for some reason.

Well, I got fed up. Reason and politeness are not her thing, apparently, so I went to LOL News and Politics, found about fifteen anti-McCain/Palin/fundie pics and sent them all to her in one shot. And I'll probably keep it up until she stops or goes mad, whichever comes first. She's already a nutjob. If I'm lucky, I'll offend her and she'll never have anything to do with me again. Oh, I hope so.

I'm Hungry

Last night I dreamed that I was having dinner at my favorite pizzeria, when my former comedy teacher suddenly showed up at my table and demanded that I give him ten pizza jokes immediately. Needless to say, I was surprised by the whole thing, but jumped on it right away. He said they were kinda lame and he could see them all coming and I could do better. He wanted me to rewrite them and was giving me a generous twelve hours to do so. Then I lost my cell phone in the parking lot, and for some reason, had to ride home on a goat. There was chocolate dessert pizza to make it better though. Clearly I have issues.

Now I want pizza, and feel compelled to write a page of jokes.

"The Real McCain"

Rimacat

Tom Cruise is a Crazy Gnome

I dreamed that Tom Cruise was a crazy little gnome dude. I mean he kinda is, but in my dream it was more extreme, if you can imagine such a thing. He was kinda like Rumplestiltskin. He could guess what ingredients were in stuff. His specialty was telling people what blends/impurites were in their pot stashes. In my case, since I don't have a pot stash, he was guessing what was in my lentil soup. My vegetarian friends were over, and they were digging the soup. Tom showed up to be evil when I remembered that I hadn't used vegetable broth. He told them the soup wasn't vegetarian. He told them all the ingredients in the soup, and said I made it with beef broth. Then I told him he was an ass because I had made it with chicken broth, and how could you possibly confuse the two? He got all mad, and stamped so hard that he exploded, just like in the fairy tale. My friends were mortified over the soup. I told them to get over it.

Rima's Happy Place

This summer, thanks to my husband, I found my perfect knitting spot. It's a very wooded park next to a rail trail, where he takes our kids cycling. I sit by the stream and knit. There's nobody else there during the week. I think the place likes me. I get happy vibes the second I step onto the grass and see the trees.

I started today there. I kind of shuffled out of bed and into the car, but it was worth it. I stopped to pick up breakfast at a nearby bakery. I always make offerings when I go. It's very wild, and there's a perfect tree stump, overgrown with weedy vines. It's right in the center of the clearing, which is encircled by subtle protrusions of bedrock. In case anyone wants to know, the spirits really, really like coffee. But anyway, here's part of the view from the rock upon which I sit. The frogs, toads, chipmunks, butterflies, dragonflies, and probably unseen creatures don't seem to mind or fear me.

Here is what I brought with me today. I'm making the Waving Lace socks that are on the book cover, and yep, that's the Twatweasel yarn. So far, so good. I think this place has given me my longed-for sock mojo. Do you think nymphs knit? Sylphs? Satyrs? Well, at least I know they like coffee.

I Like Cake.

I'm 40, my hair is 55.

I just turned 40 two weeks ago. I've had grey hairs for years, and in the recent year or two, I started getting some wrinkles, but in the past two weeks since I turned 40, it's like someone flipped a switch. Suddenly, I have age spots on my face! WTF? Yesterday I noticed that I suddenly have lots and lots of blonde highlights in the front. Then I realized that it was my hair losing its color and going from brown to white. Tons of it!

I really don't want to be one of those ladies who starts dyeing their hair when they're young enough to need it, and then look really artificial when they're old. I also don't want to be forty and white all in the front. So I compromised. If I'm going to dye it and make it look artificial, let it be obvious. Manic Panic, in Purple Haze. Whoooooo!

Inappropriate Use...

...of "apostrophe's" and "quotation mark's" "hurt's" my soul, so please stop it.

Creepy Little Kid for Sale!

"Mommy, how many weeks until you die? Four?"

BLLAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGHHH!!!!