I really feel bad. I put up an offer to Rent My Blog was swarmed with bids, most of which expired, because I FORGOT all about it. Want to know how I picked my renter this time? She posted a comment to let me know her bid was going to expire. I’d have to be a HUGE ASS not to pick her after she was kind enough to remind me that I was being exceptionally rude. So, thank you Blackbelt Mama from the bottom of my pea-pickin’ heart. (Please be sure to give her a click! Her blog is pretty entertaining!)

Ok, I’m still riding high off of yesterday’s post, I hope I’m not the only freak out here who totally gets a kick out of getting off a good post every once in a VERY long while. I do try, on a daily basis, not to just churn out crap here, but yesterday was a rare moment of beauty and poor Sinatra’s sacrifice was well worth the boost to my ego.

I’ve actually never been so happy that my hamster is a little fat ass, I don’t know what might have happened if he hadn’t gotten stuck in the tube! For the record… my husband SUCKS… the cost to replace the tube - $12, cost to replace the hamster? $15 - not being the kind of person to say, “I told you so,” I was sure to call him with a “Booo YAH! Bitch!!! Who’s your mama! Not only is my conscience clean but I was RIGHT, too.”

Yes, yes, I know, I should have just pulled a George Constanza and left on the high note when everyone was laughing, right? Right.

Ok, on to my favorite posts of the week:

Escort Service @ KillTheGoat

Watch out when Joe has writer’s block. That’s all I’m going to say here, just go Eat At Joe’s, the mind is dirty but the food is great. (or something like that… I was trying to be clever.)

Fugetaboutit!!! - I dare you to read this and not laugh. Rarely do I hit this blog and not laugh my rear end off. Sorry… but this kind of thing amuses the hell out of me.

Related Tags: Hamster, Sinatra, Husband, Favorite Post Friday, Blackbelt Mama, Kill The Goat, Eat At Joe’s, Fugetaboutit!!!

Dear Diary,

Today I almost killed my daughter’s hamster.

The day started out as any other day. Kate has been at my mother’s for the past two weeks and even though she is only 3 minutes away it would seem that her social schedule has not allowed her to get away for even a moment to clean out poor Sinatra’s habitat.

Cleaning out Sinatra’s cage isn’t out of the ordinary for me this summer considering I had to do it for the 16 days that Kate was on the east coast and now for the past two weeks.

I was rather smug proud of myself that I found a way to make quick work of the royal pain in the ass inconvenient task. Rather than taking the entire house apart, I simply stuck the lovely, on-board, hose attachment to my beloved vacuum, down the tube and sucked out all the old shavings, hidden food and, well, hamster poo.

Usually I take Sinatra out and put him in his exercise ball to run around while I complete the task of being his maid. This actually makes him more like real family, the fact that I have to pick up after him just like I do everyone else. Today Sinatra was being a complete bitch a little more stubborn than usual and so I left him in one portion of the tube while I sucked out the other portion.

Imagine my surprise to find out that my bagless Bissell vacuum is a little bit more powerful than I had original estimated it to be. One instant I was cleaning out his “condo” the next instant there was a “shloooop” sound and he was gone.

In what seemed like an instant I had the filters out of the vacuum and was yelling for Ethan to come help me while trying to recall what exactly one might do to perform CPR on a Siberian Dwarf Hamster. Unfortunately, we wound up cutting the vacuum hose into three pieces. To be fair, Ethan cut the hose because I was a tad bit upset over the thought of having to tell Kate that I murdered might have been responsible for the untimely demise of her hamster.

Once we had hacked the tube to bits (always careful to make sure there was nothing in the section we were cutting) we realized that he was still stuck in the long, narrow, hard, plastic “working end” of the tube attachment. (Damn you Bissell and your quality construction.) Peering into the end of the tube (right before the accordian section starts) where we had just cut I could see his furry, fat, little ass and bear-like tail.

I pulled on his tail… no response. Tugged on his back foot… he tucked it up under him, I yelped with joy and then considered sticking the handle of a screw driver or wooden spoon down the other end to kind of shove him out. I then realized that while he might make a great, natural, pipe cleaner, I probably had a better shot of really injuring him, that is, beyond the damage already done to both his health and dignity.

So, Ethan stuck his fingers down the tube, grabbed his back legs and gently pulled him out. He was limp… Ethan laid him carefully on the floor so we could get a good look at him, suddenly he sprang to life and ran down the hall in his weeble-wobble fashion. He’s pretty quick for a little fat-ass.

Now, he’s resting quietly, obviously traumatized by the whole event, and I have to go look for a replacement tube for my vacuum.

As my husband kindly pointed out, “A new hamster would be cheaper.”

Yes, but a new vacuum hose is easier on my conscience, thank you.

Related Tags: siberian dwarf hamster, Sinatra, pets, vaccuums, guilt

Did I mention that I absolutely adore my son’s girlfriend? Yep, Ethan has a girlfriend… the first one to actually be introduced to the family. As in, she comes over for dinner, goes places with our family, and Ethan goes to her house as well.

And… she’s amazingly cool! Plus she’s smart, has a great sense of humor, is gorgeous and the two of them are so freaking cute together! Heck, I’d date her. If I were 14… and a boy. Should something happen I don’t know who would have their heart broken the worst out of the three of us.

Get this, Maggie even likes her! Which means that any possible makeout sessions are promptly and irreversibly interrupted by a 2 year old… YIPPPEEE!!! I have my concerns, like any raving, lunatic, paranoid mother normal, rational parent would. However, the best lesson of all was having the resident demon toddler. Living with (and helping to care for) Maggie is enough to make anyone fall madly in love with birth control and abstinence.

So the other day I was driving K (Ethan’s girlfriend) home and we were talking about rap and rappers in general. K likes hip-hop and fortunately, classic rock (or Ethan’s head would explode). Snoop Dogg came up and I mentioned that I had seen a thing on MTV about him having his own porn film company.

Me: Apparently he directs them as well.

K: Ewwwww!!! Ick!!!

Me: Yeah, can you imagine being in a… hmm… “vulnerable” position and having some stoned dude saying, “Oh yeah, fo shizzle.” *laughing because me saying “fo shizzle” is like listening to Larry The Cable Guy speaking in french*

Ethan: *laughing*

K: *laughing* OMG! We are SO WHITE. That’s sad.

I love her!

And, I love this almost as much as I love my son’s girlfriend. You HAVE to go look at Miss Britt’s new design that she busted her tookus building. I think she did a kick-ass job. Don’t you?

Related Tags: son’s girlfriend, girlfriends, toddler, Snoop Dogg, Larry The Cable Guy, Miss Britt

The guilty parties shall remain anonymous. Sorta.

Him, “I used to like you.”

Her, “I used to give a shit.”

————-

Her, “Get your tongue off my neck and give me a second. I can’t get Rod Stewart’s “Love Touch” out of my head! Blech!”

Him singing, “If you want my body and you think I’m seeeeeeeexy…”

Her, “Oh good, that did it, now I’m not in the mood AT ALL.”

————

In carwash looking at the back of a Hummer purchased from 3-Way Chevrolet boldly displaying “3-Way Hummer” he says, “I’d love a 3-way hummer.”

Her, “You’ll be lucky to EVER get a ONE-way hummer.”

————

Shopping for fresh seafood:

Her, “Why don’t we pick up a crab?”

He goes over to pick one out, comes back with a crab and smirk saying, “I asked that guy for a crab and he said that he already saw me with one, why would I want another?”

Related Tags: scenes from a marriage, marriage, husbands, him, her, he said, she said,
Rod Stewart, Hummer

Ahhh, I used to love that game as a kid. Then I grew up and my life became a game of memory.

One blue toddler sandal…

Ok, I KNOW I’ve seen this before… lemme think. Yep, it’s over there!

DAMN! I got one white flip-flop!

Ooo, Oooo, one black converse sneaker!!! I KNOW where this one is!!!!

BINGO!!!!!

HAHAHA, I get another turn!

Ok, half of purple cow from the baby’s Leap Pad farm toy…

DAMMIT!!!!

I got the blue toddler sandal.

Wait, wait… I just saw the other one…

Yes, I know, the $100 donation was good for one link and this is my second link to Yandy.Com, but you know what, I’m throwing in a freebie here because I think the concept rocks and this is one important charity. Let’s give a click and throw some extra traffic over there!

Drumsticks, licking, and nuts - family friendly, but absolutely HEEEEEEELARIOUS!!! (yes, I now I spelled hilarious wrong there… on purpose. Honest!)

“Uh-hem, those are for Bob…” - Wickedly funny, but what else would you expect from Wicked H?

It’s The Great Penis Charlie Brown - another gem from our darling Bonanza.

Did you miss the first run of the “The Whore that made the Waitress Cry?” Get over there and find out what exactly was worth 70+++ comments.

.

..

…

….

…..

Why are you still here? I’ve given you things to do… now get to clicking!!!

Related Tags: favorite post friday, enter the laughter, Avert Your Eyes, Bonanza Jellybean, Jennster, Rent My Blog

Meh… it’s not one of my best or even most creative. Cut me some slack it’s like 105 here with insane humidity. I decided to take a picture just after a shower… so forgive the lack of make-up. My husband actually likes this picture, well, better than the other one. But, we all know how I feel about him lately. ;o) Happy HNT!

Ok, now, the Blogathon is coming up… TJ attempted to live in the outside world away from the blogosphere, I admire her will and desire, but am more glad that she’s back with the rest of us normal folks. This means that she got a late start working on sponsorships so run over there and check out her charity and SPONSOR her!

Don’t forget to stop by during the blogathon - Zazzafooky was pretty wild last year and SO much freaking fun that I really regretted falling out somewhere in the middle of the night.

Related Tags: Blogathon 2006, Charity, Zazzafooky, HNT, Half Nekkid Thursday, blogging for charity

OMG! I’ve got one that is going to take the cake ladies. Honest, I swear.

Just when you think you’ve basically got them trained and that they might have at least a portion of a brain that will keep them from doing something absolutely, incredibly, STUPID…

They surprise the hell out of you.

Let’s see, Monday night Mike came home late, he acted like an ass (not unusual) and we got into a spat. He slept in another room and we didn’t speak the next morning at all.

Now, it’s typical for him to forward me jokes and things from work. But, you tell me, after a night like that would you send YOUR wife You’ll probably have to “Right Click Save Target As” or something to that effect. Give it a try… it’s worth it. It would be amusing under other circumstances.

I replied:

“Should I be reading something in to this?”

And, he (stupidly) wrote back:

“Did you fuck my brother???” (this is in reference to the audio file above, not the spat we had. LOL)

My response:

“Out of ALL that “I don’t give a shit, keep the house, I’m outta here” (see audio file)
The BROTHER thing is the ONLY thing you respond to????

I mean… one brother is bad enough, my taste in men isn’t THAT bad.”

He has yet to respond, this might be the smartest decision he will make today.

Later that day…

He responded: “Don’t even think you’re keeping the house, I have trees planted there.”

I told him that I’d keep the house and if his trees are that damn important… I’d rent him a COT in the garage.

He actually seemed to like the idea.

Jackass.

Related Tags: men, marriage, stupid husband tricks, husbands, spats, marital bliss

So sayeth I…

I know I’ve been guilty a time or two of committing sins of grammar, punctuation and spelling. I admit it. But, I also admit that I do honestly try to make sure that I spell things correctly use proper grammar, etc. Honest, I do.

Which is why (regardless if I live in a glass house, or if I am a black pot) this email annoyed the living hell out of me. See, I paid these people to list my house on the local multiple listing service. They did. I’ve had to make a few adjustments to the listing and did so via email and telephone. Last week I needed to make another adjustment and sent them an email. I received a rather curt response from some moron that I had never dealt with before. When I questioned his ability to provide appropriate customer service I got this in return:

Apparently, they have moved offices and are no longer working out of the manor. Perhaps they are working out of the guesthouse? The cabana?

The guy signed the email “Richard” perhaps he should have just signed it “Dick.”

Guess what? I’m a whore!!! Jennster said so! She really did check the comments here! Let me tell you, picking just ONE renter was a real bitch this time. Fortunately, I have been reading Jennster for several weeks now (although, I’m a bit of a lurker - sometimes I suck at comments, I admit it) and I think you’ll get a kick out of her as much as I do.

One of the cool things about this renter is that I’m also vacationing over at her lovely blog as well. So, thanks for the bid Jennster and thanks for renting your spot to me as well!

Related Tags: customer service, grammar, spelling, punctuation, Rent My Blog, Jennster

Ok, Dr. Hottie may rock in the whole surgery and looks department, but can I just take a moment to say (imagine this in my husband’s redneck voice) “he dun fucked my mama up!”

My mother has been in a Vicodin and Valium induced fog for the last week. When she comes to she calls me. Then she complains that she, “lost a week.” After that she rambles on asking how many stitches do I think she has, why does this hurt so bad, and maybe she shouldn’t have done this after all. On Saturday she called twelve times. Sunday she called 4 times in the morning and was threatening to drive over here because I “abandoned” her. My brother had to hide her keys.

Emphasis on ELECTIVE SURGERY, Mom!

At least now I know why my mother doesn’t drink… she becomes a completely different person! All of her complaining is done in a southern accent, somewhere between a Paula Deen and a Scarlet O’Hara. I have no clue where any of that is coming from!

Now, I’ve been over there every day, twice on most days, with the exception of Saturday and Sunday. I left Kate over there in charge and that kid is a mini-Martha Stewart in the making. When I say Martha Stewart I’m not talking about floral arrangements I’m talking about that “other” reputation Martha has.

Now, I love my mother, heart and soul. I adore her. I’ve helped nurse her through a few medical recoveries both elective and, hmmm, not so much…

But this facelift bit takes the damn cake. Kate has been there to ensure that my mother takes her pain meds at the right time, because as I have been warned, emphatically, by Dr.Hottie’s office if the pain meds wear off, it’ll take a helluva lot to get control of the pain again.

Conversation with mom on Friday when I stopped by to check her sutures (and yeah, there are ALOT of them):

Me: Is Kate taking good care of you?

Mom: (sounding like she has had about 6 margaritas and 5 shots in the last 1/2 hour and spent the majority of her life living in the deep south) Every time I start to perk up she runs in and hands me pills and knocks my ass out again.

Me: Good.

She called at 10:30 that night to tell me that she was going to bed… then she decided to have ice cream. So I talked to Kate and we decided she also needed another Vicodin. As Kate was getting out the pills I could hear my mother in the background ala Vivian Leigh, “WHY do I need more of those? Those make me loopy! You just gave them to me five minutes ago!!!” Apparently, they cause some sort of rip in the fabric of time as well, because my mother’s five minutes was actually nearly 4 hours. And, that’s right, folks, she doesn’t know anything about birthin’ no babies. Well… she does… but you get my point.

Kate put me back on the phone with mom, who started rambling again… so I said, “Oh, Mike’s right here!” and handed the phone to Mike, who had somehow come under the impression that Mom wanted to talk to him. I don’t know where he might have gotten that idea, but I’m sure he didn’t get it from me… Then we made obscene gestures at one another as he feigned concern for her current condition.

His end of the conversation:

“Well, I’m looking at before and after pictures here and you spent a lot of money to look really bad…”

Then he handed the phone back to me and more obscene gestures ensued.

I hate men.

Oh, here are the pics I mentioned…

Mom before:

Mom After:

Hmmm… maybe Mike was right.

Related Tags: Plastic surgery, facelift, moms, surgery, husbands, men, vicodin, valium