tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-52042951972481183212024-03-05T19:14:32.964-05:00Life...EXAGGERATEDMomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10114432538763605821noreply@blogger.comBlogger83125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5204295197248118321.post-4840729994438907192010-09-02T20:04:00.009-04:002010-09-02T20:26:48.817-04:00I'm a grown ass womanI have a husband, a job, a home, a business, two cars and a dog. But the thing that's suddenly made me feel like an adult is that both my widely-spaced offspring are now in school. Truthfully, it makes me feel old as hell because I have feelings of overwhelmedness on opposite ends of the spectrum.<br /><br />With Bella going to high school, I'm all "OMG, ONLY FOUR MORE YEARS LEFT!!!"<br /><br />And with Baby, I'm all "OMG, WE'RE <strong>JUST NOW</strong> STARTING SCHOOL ALL OVER AGAIN!!!"<br /><br />I know it all goes so quickly and one day I'll be sitting in my rocking chair wondering where my kids are, where period went and why my boobs are in my lap. I wish I could stop time right where it is. I need Superman to reverse the earth's rotation.<br /><br /><p align="center"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 192px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 172px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512474546496602850" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-exZlg0NFaBA2Fi7sHksjmI4KZAPfvbiGrKe_jYiNiU-GJPNiLo39CysAQDG9DaWrbvlIaMifOTeK748memwAdDLhd7Ch-hUTUxd36hN8HWcuNYjYeb-LRIGyjsGdMyjVwXkDciek9nAG/s400/BigGirlPanties.jpg" /> I'm wearing them. I promise.<br />But they're getting in a bunch. </p><p>--<span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"><em>Mom</em></span></p>Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10114432538763605821noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5204295197248118321.post-9781836334289351192010-09-01T00:30:00.002-04:002010-09-01T18:24:04.175-04:00WTF Wednesday: ADD = aluminum deficit disorder?<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeKHintfwyXUupAaTZxJYW70KB8xner9p9CNiCzV8daAQd0qjc2haFNIVDp2WIbhAYiuxXtG2ufrYvMhA1B0bS50OhTxFjIOEuqjEdrr0g0tHfWvlOmHKEnuMEckA3losrdUkeLpyWokUT/s1600/PICT0081.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5511737436576215586" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeKHintfwyXUupAaTZxJYW70KB8xner9p9CNiCzV8daAQd0qjc2haFNIVDp2WIbhAYiuxXtG2ufrYvMhA1B0bS50OhTxFjIOEuqjEdrr0g0tHfWvlOmHKEnuMEckA3losrdUkeLpyWokUT/s400/PICT0081.JPG" /></a> <div>Why don't my people know how to work tin foil? They're not clear on how plastic wrap is supposed to work either, as demonstrated by the occasional dry spots on the cheddar cheese. WTF?! Does this only happen at my house? </div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"><em><p>--Mom</em></span></div>Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10114432538763605821noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5204295197248118321.post-17935988187518794712010-08-27T00:01:00.004-04:002010-08-28T08:07:39.640-04:005 for Friday...he's a girl's man<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJryMRF07Ny7kAJAco59N52wXDkU-3QbsRGNqI56WgLU3ZhCeaDH_JyVKH2BbrR4PVIwqYGphQpUzN9JArlF83UuIBv82QRq5S-7GQL4h1jpQaT-yK3B2qicjPIPHncBg0MxDiPwRwzveU/s1600/5ForFridayNew.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 165px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 179px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5509878614957114338" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJryMRF07Ny7kAJAco59N52wXDkU-3QbsRGNqI56WgLU3ZhCeaDH_JyVKH2BbrR4PVIwqYGphQpUzN9JArlF83UuIBv82QRq5S-7GQL4h1jpQaT-yK3B2qicjPIPHncBg0MxDiPwRwzveU/s200/5ForFridayNew.jpg" /></a> Bella has a boyfriend, Thomas, and he's totally smitten. He's willing to do all kinds of crazy girly stuff with her. All she has to do is say "<em>pleeease</em>" and flip her long red hair, and he's putty in her hands. So this week's <strong>5 for Friday</strong> is titled..."<span style="font-family:georgia;"><strong>5 Girly Things Bella's Boyfriend Has Done in the Last 2 Weeks</strong></span>."<br /><br />In the last week Bella has gotten Thomas to:<br /><br /><strong>5. Help bake brownies</strong>. They were good, all warm out of the oven with vanilla ice cream.<br /><br /><strong>4. Hold her new tote bag in the mall so Bella could photograph it and phone-mail the pic to me.</strong> It's a cute bag from Aeropostale. Thomas looks lovely holding it.<br /><br /><strong>3. Help bake hocolate chip cookies</strong>. Twice. OMG, the second round were some of the best cookies I've ever had. They didn't feel like doing much dough scooping, so they made larger-sized cookies. Yum! These ladies are pretty good cooks. (LOL)<br /><br /><strong>2. Play hair salon</strong>. Bella wanted to see how Thomas looked with spikey hair, so he let her mousse the bejesus out of it. He drew the line at nail polish though. Smart dude.<br /><br /><strong>1. Sing the female chorus of a rap duet</strong>. Thomas let's Bella rap Eminem's portion of "Love the Way You Lie" while he sings Rhianna's lyrics. It's a funny sight, but I gotta admit, Bella's pretty fly for a white girl from the 'burbs.<br /><br /><object width="580" height="360"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/uelHwf8o7_U?fs=1&hl=en_US&color1=0xcc2550&color2=0xe87a9f&border=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/uelHwf8o7_U?fs=1&hl=en_US&color1=0xcc2550&color2=0xe87a9f&border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="580" height="360"></embed></object><br /><br />Some future Friday maybe I'll talk about all the manly man things Thomas has Bella doing at his house. (Hint: "<em>Mom, Call of Duty is so stupid</em>.")Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10114432538763605821noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5204295197248118321.post-57996663562283988402010-08-25T00:01:00.002-04:002010-08-25T07:05:43.826-04:00WTF Wednesday...Bead Head edition<img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 242px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5509187395989159250" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8MgaQixyK3sncHWhgpt1bhsAPjEkms6KHhxN_RDg5TLIINvhjuMdUy72NFsmQumTSHY1nlmd8KQgvg3veWR1EFEJopTPe2LNSW80mm3JULIaBf_kHU-gi8ByjiiC57Uk-mOwUD4IX63v8/s320/bedhead2.jpg" />This falls into that category known as <em>so ugly only a mother could love it</em>...'cept not me. This little fabric guy is named Bed Head and appears to be the love child of Sock Monkey...<br /><br /><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 194px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 259px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5509188488817319586" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeNjdPcn5h_wR5NWF4oanCRzIY39Le8UJRVOAtmqaW_gJjFYObmuBYFuRkWzvqesSa6In8Ii_ojWqVhOavfCEFl798t5Sq-xOavXia3YCb-Tz5aOwrFwqLTRB97UvOJpmt0TqjId_v6LXc/s320/sockmonkey.jpg" /> and the tribal voodoo doll from the movie "Trilogy of Terror."</div><br /><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 237px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5509188690787082258" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFQ3xsDyNb4sVJt6jyp6mWRgXVtEPAo2tUzMSZlF6uvYo_B23z2Dvym1fR_cNy0C4AK-z4M2_lP-6Kc1-J5Po0H0BdH0jqhw-w5Mgqz60Lx-fKN_tYyhgKT2bNee5Psz49roMAYctE1ACx/s320/TRILOGYterror.jpg" />The Etsy write up about him says that he's "patched together with various recycled fibers" (recycled from WHAT is what I'd like to know?) and his "belly has a stone from lake michigan inside" (I don't know why!) and "good wishes come from this." I have serious doubts about that though. In my opinion, I feel nightmares might come from this.<br /><br />Even more troubling is that this dude seems to have a girlfriend...</div><div><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 259px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5509189417535643186" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifrZYFLGUf8FjCvwBKA9Aqh7CnT2L52AhvKRDOF4TXEheexxLIVX0pq5_7rmZ9X7nuL0UlFfaoFPBOdsJebblltLGDjvL-ooERlgpYKE2xMTai9CLMbmkxc-SVf7fLV1u8EZ45A6Edr7T2/s320/beadhead3.jpg" /><br />But the most disturbing quality about our pal Bed Head, is his price tag -- <strong>$295</strong>! WTF?! </div><div></div><div>--<span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"><em>Mom</em></span></div>Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10114432538763605821noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5204295197248118321.post-78932192957661323132010-08-23T23:55:00.007-04:002010-08-24T11:48:27.654-04:00FOR SALE: A virtual freakshow<img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 141px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5508815322596795954" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVVdP2vLoQclBeDHG4odbIYwFLmo_EQrKjfsGf9jQMF-58fc5LJV3BMjoyzDxc9Hff-7O5y7GLad3LWPlyOqp_1y8zgyVSA8sugwtNwwEtiQsPrw7yP6Hx7id8vIy5HKGsXdZBvVXn8y-_/s320/craigslist.jpg" /> <p>The other day I was checking out boats on craigslist. While clicking around, I found a link called "best-of-craigslist." And wow, I am so glad I did. I was up unnecessarily early one morning and I managed to pass the time with some bargain hunting.<br /><br />Just check out some of this high quality stuff for sale. Aren't you in the market for any of this amazing merchandise? </p><ul><li>1985 Space Shuttle Atlantis OV-104 </li><li>Spacious Studio Igloo </li><li>Sea Monkeys </li><li>100$ for two brownies and 1 pt. ice cream </li><li>Jealous, controlling 300gb high-speed USB 2.0 hard disk </li><li>Shrunken Pet Head Amulet </li><li>Republican governor for sale </li><li>bag of butt plugs and/or mannequins parts </li></ul><p>There are also "items wanted" and "in-search-of" ads that sound really swell. Such a shame that these have all expired. Shucks! There are hundreds of really humorous sexual ads and slams against ex-wives and ex-boyfriends but I want you to be surprised when you click through for yourself. But peruse some of these winners... </p><ul><li>Looking for a beard mentor </li><li>Penis Measuring </li><li>Tune Your God Damn Piano </li><li>Thanks For Shitting Your Pants </li><li>No More Sex With Fruit </li><li>Looking for Rabbi Versed in DARK TALMUDIC ARTS to create GOLEM. </li><li>To the diminutive lesbian who slept in my bed last night </li><li>Man-Servant Needed </li><li>To the Father of an Unruly Child At Plato's Closet </li><li>Bong Operations Engineer </li><li>To the Women Who Performed my Vasectomy </li><li>Body Dumping Location Available </li><li>I Puked in Your Purse </li><li>Wingman for Rent-cheap! </li><li>Lost: Self Confidence </li><li>dear girls snorting coke in the bathroom - w4m </li><li>Threesome with my Realdoll - mw4m </li><li>Sit in a hot tub full of marinara sauce with me - m4w </li><li>Michael Jackson rant </li></ul><p>One of the ads that cracked me is a simple ditty titled, <strong><a href="http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bhm/1614891621.html">WTT High Fives for any Musical Instrument</a></strong>. It reads...</p><blockquote><em>Have some instruments (pianos, trumpets, guitars, hurdy-guydys) that you need to get rid of? I will take these off of your hands, and in return you will receive a solid High Five. I have been told that my high fives are top-notch, so this is a very good deal. I will take just about any bass, flute, mandolin, violin, tuba, what have you...I am not picky. So hit me up with an awesome email and let's strike a deal. Local deals only. No traveling to high-five you. Low Fives also, though they aren't as satisfying.</em></blockquote><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTd0uOfwqxfbPkmNFmAJ1MeEPOq0Hf_ZS45bGFJLdx08fIOwySIRd3iZ3LCee6zvrw3aJssxAqHWXIDgROomN2BoWvM_tQhPDK62kcGGlyBsJnpzG9XwjMDlIMBSdJnmh578C-wY-SSUNW/s1600/high5.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5508817777126473010" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTd0uOfwqxfbPkmNFmAJ1MeEPOq0Hf_ZS45bGFJLdx08fIOwySIRd3iZ3LCee6zvrw3aJssxAqHWXIDgROomN2BoWvM_tQhPDK62kcGGlyBsJnpzG9XwjMDlIMBSdJnmh578C-wY-SSUNW/s200/high5.jpg" /></a>Amen to that! Everyone knows low fives suck. Hey, check out the visual on the high five that dude posted. That is one amazing looking fiver! I almost want to give him a jingle and offer up a plastic harmonica or a kazoo just to give that five a whirl. Don't you agree?!<br /><br />Another stunning bit of literary prose was written by a self-proclaimed Port-a-Potty technician who penned the informational manual "Using a Port-a-Potty." It's a classic, and a must-read for all. I won't spoil it by giving away any of the great port-a-potty tips. <a href="http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/snj/1618848861.html">Just check it out for yourself. </a><br /><br />Before I forget, here's the link to the <a href="http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/all/">best-of-craiglist</a>. Scroll through. You won't be sorry. I pinky promise!</p><p>--<span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"><em>Mom</em></span></p>Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10114432538763605821noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5204295197248118321.post-24610102591375299972010-08-20T09:27:00.008-04:002010-08-23T12:09:00.345-04:005 for Friday...wacky school supplies<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwvDWToi_0nlwdfjw4n_0xbRHa9esZhcoZVxLkDb4pJYUcX9ZcTZxE8scuxauHZcrk-Y3SodKNN3Dx3J3ZJEuTWQty0G9z3QpSTt-BLTDewBVcva7zVpRgk7XInhdCXECpUjUI6OpMFrO8/s1600/5ForFridayNew.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 155px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 174px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5508637916751591602" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwvDWToi_0nlwdfjw4n_0xbRHa9esZhcoZVxLkDb4pJYUcX9ZcTZxE8scuxauHZcrk-Y3SodKNN3Dx3J3ZJEuTWQty0G9z3QpSTt-BLTDewBVcva7zVpRgk7XInhdCXECpUjUI6OpMFrO8/s200/5ForFridayNew.jpg" /></a>Yesterday I did school supply shopping with Bella and Baby, so today's <strong>5 for Friday</strong> is going to be about the return to school and the <strong>"5 strangest things I've ever seen on my <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">childrens</span>' school supply list."</strong> So here goes...<br /><br /><strong>5. One box of gallon baggies and one box of two-gallon baggies.</strong> I assumed it would be for bringing projects home, but I never saw a single one of those baggies ever come back home. So, what was the purpose? Let's do a little math...<br /><br />12 two-gallon baggies + 20 gallon bags = 32 bags x 25 kids = 800 baggies.<br /><br />Wow. That's an ass load of baggies. Is she dealing weed?<br /><br /><strong>4. 12 Elmer's glue sticks, not purple.</strong> <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">Ok</span> first, why not purple? Everyone knows it dries clear, so what's the big deal? And twelve?! Let's do some more math...<br /><br />12 glue sticks x 25 kids = 300 glue sticks.<br /><br />Raise your hand if you think 250 of those sticks are going to be dry as a bone by Christmas?<br /><br /><strong>3. 2 blue folders, 2 red folders, 2 yellow folders, 2 green folders.</strong> All with pockets and brads; smooth cover, not plastic; no business card slots. Wow, that's some pretty specific supply requesting. Talk about stress! Must...get...the...right...kind...<br /><br /><strong>2. Alpha Bits cereal.</strong> Really? The kids are going to spell with it, or glue it onto projects? Uh-huh. How about NOT. I knew full well that they're going to EAT it by the handfuls, because that's what kids do. And the thought of kids touching each others' Alpha Bits cereal freaks me right the fuck out. I don't know what year Bella needed it, but I'm sure it was the year that she was sick a lot. From touching and eating each other's germs. Here are some Alpha Bit letters for the teacher that requested that... D.U.M.B.A.S.S. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP8t_CYC4BZskNOGxdwh-jjZoyDEIgubtNp3cM4W9TzU-LAAFnynPLcNLSQ1IKr7DjYMQa6vYd0JGUWivQpNcSWX1WLZPOtvx7HTHigw4Uh2PhKIm7B5GUluhva4b6KoRJZXpKJANrMoLK/s1600/schoolsupplies.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 174px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5507484491775738866" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP8t_CYC4BZskNOGxdwh-jjZoyDEIgubtNp3cM4W9TzU-LAAFnynPLcNLSQ1IKr7DjYMQa6vYd0JGUWivQpNcSWX1WLZPOtvx7HTHigw4Uh2PhKIm7B5GUluhva4b6KoRJZXpKJANrMoLK/s200/schoolsupplies.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><strong>1. Shaving cream.</strong> That was back when Bella was in 2<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">nd</span> grade and my original thought, which still stands today: ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME WITH THAT?! How stoned and/or stupid do you have to be to want a room full of 7 years <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">olds</span> with shaving cream?! And for what purpose?! Why not just ask for silly string? Or a big bucket of mud?<br /><br />So tell me, have you had any crazy items on your kids' school supply list? Or is it just me?<br /><br />--<span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"><em>Mom</em></span>Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10114432538763605821noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5204295197248118321.post-41613294485260603082010-08-18T16:35:00.005-04:002010-08-20T08:17:38.259-04:00Cool! Slim Jims are on sale!That's one of those bizarre statements I never dreamed I'd utter. But I did, the other day in the grocery store. My family LOVES those little sticks of of salt and God-knows-what. And they were on sale, 2 for $5. Or whatever. So I bought 'em.<br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 282px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 172px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506851944704782178" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPM5vA1R8T1E-am9ZO6mVzsE9kWsm_XXRmna2ktTRPguFXUzGSbo780O5nZtWw8hufSq8MSKR3nkBsKnMZRzP7CocBIT2ojUyhPV39PJ0Y6aUvlSQr7ji5uvs49wUvsQLlwu7-dsVGM29y/s200/slimjim.jpg" /><br /><p>Does your family have any weird vices?</p><p>--<em><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;">Mom</span></em></p>Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10114432538763605821noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5204295197248118321.post-85594240147532855672010-08-18T04:34:00.005-04:002010-08-18T12:49:38.615-04:00I'm back. Where's my parade?I've been wanting to come back for awhile now, but I keep getting caught up in other obligations -- work, schooling, kid stuff, husband's business stuff, Board of Director stuff. But I have too much shit in my head that needs to come out, and only so many people in my real life who are willing to listen to my daily musings, bitchings, rants and exaggerations. So, I'm back!<br /><br />And you know what else? Too many people in my real life started reading my blog. It's my husband's fault. He started blabbing about it at work, and the next thing I knew, people were reading it and talking about it and it wasn't anonymous anymore and that freaked me out a bit. I'm cool with strangers reading all my weird shit, but not everyone I know. (Yeah, I know how weird that is.) In the meantime, my husband left the job where everyone was hanging on my every word, and eventually people saw that I wasn't blogging anymore, so I think I've given them the slip. Our town isn't that small, but damn, talk about people being all up in my business! (And if they are reading...hey guys! Don't be pissed. OK?! LOL)<br /><br />Anyway, back to me. I've noticed that I probably need to redecorate. I used to like the juxtaposition of the prissy dots and zebra print, but now I'm not so sure. I may need to re-think my theme.<br /><br />So stand by. And thanks for reading!<br /><br />--<em><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;">Mom</span></em>Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10114432538763605821noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5204295197248118321.post-38753489399158721162009-08-31T08:00:00.001-04:002010-08-20T20:49:15.428-04:00How's YOUR driving?I don't know if you've seen this YouTube video or not. It seems to be making the rounds via email. It's not like me to post this kind of thing, but if you haven't checked it out, you must. And make your teenage drivers watch it out also! It is the most powerful safe-driving message I've ever seen. I think all driver's ed classes should run it--over and over and over. And I think all auto dealers should make their customers watch it before they drive off the lot.<br /><br />It is tough to watch, but DO IT!<br /><br /><object style="BACKGROUND-IMAGE: url(http://i4.ytimg.com/vi/Wwh_nM4wtrg/hqdefault.jpg)" width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Wwh_nM4wtrg?fs=1&hl=en_US"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Wwh_nM4wtrg?fs=1&hl=en_US" width="425" height="344" allowscriptaccess="never" allowfullscreen="true" wmode="transparent" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"></embed></object><br /><br /><br />As school starts up again and the holiday weekend approaches, please listen to Mom and drive safely!<br /><br />--<span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"><em>Mom</em></span>Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10114432538763605821noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5204295197248118321.post-35544889490146895802009-08-29T10:41:00.006-04:002009-08-29T11:02:50.652-04:00Something with booze went unconsumed? WTF?<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhwNBZQ3BQxptp07e6MeJHPnNEndaZqXQrEzMjUBnFnudWZRYU8BJN3P2Neg5x5zUPMLrlHkRAnzC_OV5QZ3jaWQubF3_MSdaycug6ADAbSG15C3uWO_RZCqmtCipyU99h9sKK5s6MXFs6/s1600-h/Rums.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375396464031899970" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhwNBZQ3BQxptp07e6MeJHPnNEndaZqXQrEzMjUBnFnudWZRYU8BJN3P2Neg5x5zUPMLrlHkRAnzC_OV5QZ3jaWQubF3_MSdaycug6ADAbSG15C3uWO_RZCqmtCipyU99h9sKK5s6MXFs6/s200/Rums.jpg" border="0" /></a>Yesterday, while looking for something other than chicken to pull from the freezer (see <a href="http://1lifeexaggerated.blogspot.com/2009/08/5-for-fridaybogo.html">yesterday's post</a> about having an ass load of chicken in the freezer), I grabbed a foil-wrapped object that was neatly labeled, "1/2 rum cake."<br /><br />Half a rum cake? In the freezer? (I know, right?!)<br /><br />Lemme tell ya, I'm really puzzled by this. When did we even have a rum cake? And who the fuck freezes HALF a rum cake? (Me, obviously.) What I want to know is, why couldn't MacDaddy and I manage to polish off a whole rum cake? What kind of wusses are we? Frankly, it doesn't even sound like us, not to finish a cake of ANY sort. I'm mean, IT'S CAKE. And this was a <strong>RUM CAKE</strong>! I'm almost embarrassed to talk about having a half a rum cake in the freezer.<br /><br />I admit though, I'm interested to see how it tastes, because of course I set it out on the counter to defrost. I'm excited to see what flavor it is. And if it's edible! And if it's not edible, could it be...with some added rum to freshen it up?!<br /><br />The more I think about it...I'm starting to feel a little smug. *I* have half a rum cake! I know what I'm eating after dinner tonight. Ha!<br /><br />--<span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"><em>Mom</em></span>Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10114432538763605821noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5204295197248118321.post-41356329983199799682009-08-28T03:06:00.003-04:002009-08-29T11:01:08.615-04:005 for Friday...BOGO<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5rPlDR_Lz51tM-KraWAn4AXaaOJhWlrIM-4Gah93qTJJls3RT526-IQQbJorNHTq-nN2Qstw4PwR3imLbyp75lwqyD00gG4WIrg4-TL7mXwyuQAoT-lvpo1pzdROuAWMbwkqjFDXrkR76/s1600-h/FiveFriday.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374830957095409554" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 217px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 219px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5rPlDR_Lz51tM-KraWAn4AXaaOJhWlrIM-4Gah93qTJJls3RT526-IQQbJorNHTq-nN2Qstw4PwR3imLbyp75lwqyD00gG4WIrg4-TL7mXwyuQAoT-lvpo1pzdROuAWMbwkqjFDXrkR76/s320/FiveFriday.jpg" border="0" /></a>It's Friday, so you know what that means! Time for my "<strong>5 for Friday</strong>."<br /><br />I love making lists and today's list is...<strong>five things I've purchased way too much of during my grocery store's buy one/get one free sales. </strong><br /><br /><strong>5) Sweet Baby Ray's spicy barbecue sauce</strong>. This is our favorite BBQ sauce, and when it's on sale we like to stock up for the summer. We likes us some Sweet Baby Ray on the grill with chicken and pork! It's the perfect combination of sweet and spicy. We have 4 bottles of Ray in the pantry.<br /><br /><strong>4) Boneless skinless chicken breasts</strong>. There are exactly 5 bags of frozen chicken in my freezer. Chicken of some variety is generally my fall-back meal, and how can I fall back onto it if there isn't any?!<br /><br /><strong>3) Laundry detergent.</strong> I current have 6 detergents. SIX! Christ, how dirty do I think our clothes are? Who needs 6 detergents?!<br /><br /><strong>2) Capri Sun.</strong> There are 7 cartons in the basement for Bella's school lunches. I'm afraid the grocery store will call and tell me they need some Capri Suns to sell.<br /><br /><strong>1) Little Debbie Oatmeal Cream Pies.</strong> I hate to admit it, but we possess 8 boxes of OCPs. Hey, they're lunch snacks! Don't judge me. And keep your hands off! Nobody doesn't like a Little Debbie. That bitch can make a prepackaged snack cake like nobody's business! I could probably open a Little Debbie snack cake stand down on the corner and put that little lemonade-selling kid outta business in about 7 minutes. People would come from miles to grab a Little Debbie.<br /><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374831298433099106" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 163px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8f2OJFwY9jHWHNSNnzLSw_BR7Jj4Hft0ShgD6wADbQu7E5L6RGma3oAkKnkBRqAg4nUyewi9pwmKZudGFt0tYTnX7Fq3tKErx6sqwTZeATZEZi6RamyyYXjldjFXPDQBWHX8JmQA5ov3I/s320/littledebbie.jpg" border="0" /><br />So tell me, what do you tend to over-buy when it's on sale? C'mon, I know there's *something*! Fess up.<br /><br />--<em><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;">Mom</span></em>Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10114432538763605821noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5204295197248118321.post-55234181633014614362009-08-27T03:16:00.002-04:002009-08-27T18:25:17.339-04:00My life sucks<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv9Aic6PkyQrE_xRG5sPHY8IPwoK78VfmaL2cfPL2rbTUgJS6DRkrGgrogEZLw-rfAign3W0S67XJAtOsMhM0y1F57C-dYDIsaqSxAyXOZDGWkmzJbI8jUR8HemgcdDiOgV4MtalPxWTp1/s1600-h/zebra+dishes.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374401446016872738" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 259px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 218px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv9Aic6PkyQrE_xRG5sPHY8IPwoK78VfmaL2cfPL2rbTUgJS6DRkrGgrogEZLw-rfAign3W0S67XJAtOsMhM0y1F57C-dYDIsaqSxAyXOZDGWkmzJbI8jUR8HemgcdDiOgV4MtalPxWTp1/s400/zebra+dishes.jpg" border="0" /></a>Bella is on vacation with her BFF for two weeks and that leaves ME to empty the dishwasher. And I HATE emptying the damn dishwasher.<br /><div></div><br /><div>In my dream house I'm going to have two dishwashers. I'm going to use the clean dishes from the first dishwasher and put them into the second dishwasher after using them. Then I can run that load, and then reverse the dish using plan. Doesn't that sound grand?<br /><br />--<span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"><em>Mom</em></span></div>Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10114432538763605821noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5204295197248118321.post-39963285855129913192009-08-26T17:31:00.009-04:002009-08-26T18:26:24.961-04:00Break out the bubbly!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwc-tppcbCFKxAwiWhgdUsdYExcHkeOWYHgXJKYwTAH0soBJfXrl1IDpJYTHf8nAdswJJ_3oOwbc6Gayn_0kT5LYHCpdLfuIe19HyOpOE1exYB2UmqWYLk_ku_llPBTYEfnuodC3AdjvYW/s1600-h/champagne.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374389121816268610" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwc-tppcbCFKxAwiWhgdUsdYExcHkeOWYHgXJKYwTAH0soBJfXrl1IDpJYTHf8nAdswJJ_3oOwbc6Gayn_0kT5LYHCpdLfuIe19HyOpOE1exYB2UmqWYLk_ku_llPBTYEfnuodC3AdjvYW/s200/champagne.jpg" border="0" /></a>Hello bloggers! I'm back from vacation and back on the 'net. With some good news, no less.<br /><br />Do you remember that big state exam I had to take back in July? (If you didn't know, I had to take a big state exam back in July.) I studied my ass ass off, and guess what?<br /><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:180%;"><strong>I PASSED!</strong></span><br /><br />Woohoo! Thanks for your well wishes. They helped. :-)<br /><br />--<span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"><em>Mom</em></span>Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10114432538763605821noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5204295197248118321.post-37476763021828580552009-08-09T23:34:00.004-04:002009-08-09T23:38:53.902-04:00Nick Nolte and I are soul mates<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU6DVn83LDw98XUgyH44W2UIVS3Eu-a45RfXNESoVmYqPsOdmVuU6qZuCnRxzRxYwgy2dIJWMZJ97UDq41-ns4ZUYqqD3eGtQVy_f2k78XebgzFvZw51_dCglSL85KhV_WgcCv8KOH6qE7/s1600-h/noltemug.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368173705776222130" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 351px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU6DVn83LDw98XUgyH44W2UIVS3Eu-a45RfXNESoVmYqPsOdmVuU6qZuCnRxzRxYwgy2dIJWMZJ97UDq41-ns4ZUYqqD3eGtQVy_f2k78XebgzFvZw51_dCglSL85KhV_WgcCv8KOH6qE7/s400/noltemug.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">This is what I look like every damn time I get off the boat. Not wasted like Nick. But I am a windblown mess. Purdy, huh?</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;"></span> </div><div align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">--<em>Mom</em></span></div>Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10114432538763605821noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5204295197248118321.post-26803101213267741012009-08-08T11:59:00.009-04:002009-08-08T12:06:29.742-04:00Being "green" by going yellow<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSbbfVcAA2uP4PZPsq4I9Yo34cQjbHNPQ221YTJqCryGZHr1GKypE4vjgSVXZADGSm-54vl5w3BK3e49mHe7wJ-eENPZCAklsKO-jUIRbeMDsX0M2DFpTQDe5qcM3rrnCJwwxmRrwGJmsc/s1600-h/manikinpiss.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367623450998245314" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 203px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 278px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSbbfVcAA2uP4PZPsq4I9Yo34cQjbHNPQ221YTJqCryGZHr1GKypE4vjgSVXZADGSm-54vl5w3BK3e49mHe7wJ-eENPZCAklsKO-jUIRbeMDsX0M2DFpTQDe5qcM3rrnCJwwxmRrwGJmsc/s320/manikinpiss.jpg" border="0" /></a> <div>I recently read and article titled "<a href="http://www.bizarrenews.org/content/view/113/1/">Brazilian environmentalists tell residents to urinate in shower to save water</a>." Have you heard about this?<br /><br /></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div>Essentially, the article urges people to take their...urges...into the shower, thereby saving a significant amount of water by not flushing. And I'm here to tell you that the United States has LONG been on the cutting edge of shower urination and has indeed been a world superpower in this regard. </div><div><br />I know this for a fact! </div><div><br />When I was at party in college, the topic of peeing in the shower came up in conversation. (Drunken conversation, albeit conversation nonetheless.) And a whopping 100% of the men surveyed admitted to peeing in the shower. 100%! That's an amazing amount of men who had already gone green with yellow back in the '80s. And who knew they were saving the rain forest even back then? Way to go men! Keep up the good work. The rain forest thanks you.<br /><br /></div><div></div><div>Just...watch out for your feet. </div><div><br />--<span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"><em>Mom</em></span></div>Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10114432538763605821noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5204295197248118321.post-6532934250292841342009-08-07T19:36:00.008-04:002009-08-07T19:55:36.081-04:005 for Friday...Baby said what?<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpggZ0V8GZ22p3xEOOdHEm5HZTqmMTgMImH33uFQ3V6aafHCvfuMy2ms5vZIlx-A1GQYorJOK_9AWsOG1OM5oGw-R9zK75L2TYhNxINJlE48WGgEWFsK6Mxng5knJy4dbTVxMHG2AjT7VF/s1600-h/FiveFriday.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367370987643805010" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 178px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpggZ0V8GZ22p3xEOOdHEm5HZTqmMTgMImH33uFQ3V6aafHCvfuMy2ms5vZIlx-A1GQYorJOK_9AWsOG1OM5oGw-R9zK75L2TYhNxINJlE48WGgEWFsK6Mxng5knJy4dbTVxMHG2AjT7VF/s200/FiveFriday.jpg" border="0" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;">It's Friday! One of my very favorite days of the week, and I have prepared another "<strong>5 for Friday</strong>" for your viewing pleasure. Today's theme..."<strong>My 5 favorite Baby One-liners</strong>."</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Both my children crack me up on a daily basis. This witty repartee comes straight from Baby's mouth to my keyboard...</span><br /><br />5) "<strong>Tater tots are the bomb!</strong>" Yes, yes they are, Baby! That crispy crust gently snuggled around the soft potato-y goodness. Mmmmm! What's NOT to love?<br /><br />4) "<strong>This is the worst day of my life</strong>." She declared the worst day recently when it was time to leave the playground. (The nerve of me.) If that's as bad as it gets, then life is pretty good in Baby Land!<br /><br />3) "<strong>God dammit</strong>." I don't know where she got that foul mouth from. (<a href="http://1lifeexaggerated.blogspot.com/2009/07/my-foul-mouthed-child.html">See post on the matter.</a>) :-/<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIGPBSmvKbA4du44rbDqrPij0EPvugbgdZYHWS8jClLBGebDKU8vmltHNEu5N9Rct594dcq2Ei3FwjugfE2VDHW10wXTL0yqmT5SRKJzcb-qGl47zCzJQRn5nMrVHwQqN1RINIBMNYDJmX/s1600-h/FaceComeToYou.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367371781550766002" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIGPBSmvKbA4du44rbDqrPij0EPvugbgdZYHWS8jClLBGebDKU8vmltHNEu5N9Rct594dcq2Ei3FwjugfE2VDHW10wXTL0yqmT5SRKJzcb-qGl47zCzJQRn5nMrVHwQqN1RINIBMNYDJmX/s200/FaceComeToYou.JPG" border="0" /></a><------- 2) "<strong>Do you want this face to come to you?</strong>" I don't know exactly what it means, but I think you've fucked up pretty badly if you're the recipient of *that* face.<br /><br />1) "<strong>It smells like God upstairs.</strong>" Seriously? God? Huh. I didn't know what God smelled like until I went up to investigate. (Did God just use the bathroom? Did he spray perfume? What?) As it turned out, God had been using hair products. Shampoo, conditioner and hairspray to be exact. Take my word for it, God smells nice!<br /><br />What are some funny things out of the mouths of your babes?<br /><br />--<span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"><em>Mom</em></span>Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10114432538763605821noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5204295197248118321.post-9477071927092395772009-08-06T06:53:00.012-04:002009-08-06T12:32:52.630-04:00I'm back on top of the world!OK, so yesterday I was bitching about <span style="font-size:85%;">(<span style="font-family:courier new;"><em>the possibility of!</em></span>)</span> being middle aged. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh81rtd1Jg9nFly1WgT4O0N6sw-JUQzj5uBFwounx6BXKRjJkH9JygzjyohPpL9lVXmSM63aU3cG-GB2j0DSwODxTPv-PjQlcnB6xn2tXcu3Dcj0zpWz1PbuI45bb33tDrOLbYUf2sdpDUO/s1600-h/ego.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366643024136568306" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 182px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh81rtd1Jg9nFly1WgT4O0N6sw-JUQzj5uBFwounx6BXKRjJkH9JygzjyohPpL9lVXmSM63aU3cG-GB2j0DSwODxTPv-PjQlcnB6xn2tXcu3Dcj0zpWz1PbuI45bb33tDrOLbYUf2sdpDUO/s320/ego.jpg" border="0" /></a>See post below. Well, I think I've found a way to feel young and sexy well into my middle-agedness. Going to the grocery store late at night! Uh-huh, that's right, the grocery store.<br /><br />Sometimes I like to go in the evenings to pick up snacks for the teen sleepovers or ice cream or Porcelana Fade Cream. Whilst there last night, my eyes were opened to a whole new world of ego boosting. Have you seen the late-night crowd? Men! ALLLL men. <span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;">(<span style="font-family:courier new;"><em>OK, drunk men. Don't judge me...</em></span>)</span><br /><br />When I was picking up popcorn, two men passed me by and nodded that "how you doin'?" chin nod. While I was looking for soda, one dude belched a little and said "Howdy!" After I checked out and headed toward the door, another fine gentleman hiked up his drawers to cover his crack and suggested I "have a nice evenin'."<br /><br />Man, I must have had it goin' on last night! I am SO ditching that MORE magazine and hitting the grocery store in the evenings. MacDaddy is sort of against it, but I think he might fear the competition. But...who's with me?! Who needs a late-night grocery store ego boost? Anyone? Anyone?<br /><br />--<span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"><em>Mom</em></span>Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10114432538763605821noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5204295197248118321.post-81527677850789959182009-08-05T12:06:00.011-04:002009-08-05T19:44:19.763-04:00Please tell me I'm not "middle aged!"I was sitting in the dentist's office recently with Bella, who was in for a cleaning, and I picked up a magazine I'd never seen before. "<a href="http://www.more.com/">MORE</a>" was the name of the magazine, and its target audience is women over 40.<br /><br />I thought to myself, "Hey, that's me! I'm over 40." And then I thought, "<strong>FUCK, that's ME. I'M over 40!</strong>" And I sank into a depression. I'm over 40. I've been over 40 for several years. What happened to my 20s? Where did my 30s go? How did I get here...over 40? It sucks and don't like it one bit. And as it turned out, I didn't like the magazine aimed at my peeps either. It was a little frightening to me. Check out some of the articles on <a href="http://www.more.com/">its website</a> this month...<br /><br />"<strong>The Best Summer Tunics Under $100</strong>." A couple of things bug me about this... (A) Who the hell needs a tunic in summertime? It's hot out! For me, the less clothes, the better. (B) Who spends $100 on a tunic anyway? (C) The word tunic makes me cringe, so I don't want one at any price. It makes me think "old lady shirt" and I can't handle that! Which brings me to (D) Who the fuck said women over 40 need to wear tunics?!<br /><br />"<strong>Why Middle-Aged Lovers Have More Fun in Bed</strong>." Ugh. Am I middle aged at 40-something?! And if so, do I need to up my game in the sack? I'd better trot on over to Cosmo and check out the "14 Sex Moves You've Never Heard Of" or the "75 Crazy-Hot Sex Moves." If I'm going to have more fun in bed, I want it to be crazy hot and unheard of!<br /><br />"<strong>Menopause and Your Looks.</strong>" I'd rather not know what menopause is going to do to me or my looks. I'll just wait and see what happens. I'm a fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants kinda gal. Whatever it is, I'm sure I'll be fighting it with lotions, potions, cosmetics and hairspray. And maybe some liposuction, or a boob lift. We'll see how it goes.<br /><br />"<strong>10 Great Jobs for Midlife Women.</strong>" There we go with the middle aged shit again! It's like torture to read and consider. And the jobs are a number of high-profile, high-experience positions, like Chief Environmental Officer. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Mmmm</span>-k! Don't I need to be some type of subordinate environmental officer first? And then there's Genetics Counselor. Seriously? I can do that? Even though I don't know anything about genetics? Or counselling? OK, sign me up!<br /><br />I was excited to see the link "Anti-Aging" because I thought, whew, finally some good stuff! And do you know what I found? "<strong>My Bladder Makeover.</strong>" Jesus, I don't even know what to say about that. I'm sure the article has something to do with almost peeing your pants when you sneeze and doing K<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">egel</span> exercises to combat leakage.<br /><br />"<strong>My Divorce Tale</strong>" and "<strong>Quickie Divorce, Ranch Style</strong>" and "<strong>Single Again, Now What?</strong>" don't sound very uplifting. (<em><strong>Note to self:</strong> Re-read the aforementioned Cosmo articles.</em>)<br /><br />I thought "<strong>Weekend Fashion Essentials</strong>" might be a perky, upbeat article but the first essential was an ugly purse followed by a broken image of a pair of must-have sandals. Now I'm pissed that I won't know if I really do need the sandals.<br /><br />The link for "Health" provided some of the scariest shit I dared to read. Breast cancer, pregnancy over 40, heart disease, mental health, osteoporosis...<br /><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">MY GOD, MAKE IT STOP!!</span></strong><br /><br />I'm sure MORE magazine means well, and that they have a ton of subscribers, but man, I just don't know if it's for me. What do they even mean by "more"? More what?! More frightening shit about aging than you've ever imagined?!<br /><br />I am going into "middle age" kicking and screaming; I am NOT aging gracefully, that's for sure. I wear a toe ring. I want to pierce my belly button. I drink and I swear. I lie about my age. I adore lip gloss, and lots of it. I drive a red Mustang. I stay on top of the latest technology. I listen to hip hop to maintain my street cred. Where is the devil when I need him? I need to make a deal! I don't know what I've got to offer (back to the Cosmo articles, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">LOL</span>), but somebody, please make me young again! I can't take it <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">anyMORE</span>.<br /><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366513368207959378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 279px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP1u_C9U56VEbfWHKrSCAhohIYAC1zLsppfgzjoWISuDkWUuMVKDSNujCEtE4C4gMXpuePwyJkBc33cdH9Olin21xEgMdl6F4WDSnHNVxhCoFdY0yWHbCwn0yPgQj5a40SbStxP-XJ5RLh/s400/CatOnAging.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />--<span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"><em>Mom</em></span>Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10114432538763605821noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5204295197248118321.post-24051564963286190042009-08-04T09:55:00.005-04:002009-08-04T10:20:36.359-04:00Terrific T-shirt Tuesday...idiot editionKnock knock?<br /><br />Who's there?<br /><br />Terrific.<br /><br />Terrific who?<br /><br />Terrific T-shirt Tuesday!<br /><br />Today's headline-worthy t-shirt is courtesy of Chris Mauger at <a href="http://cdmauger.blogspot.com/2009/05/yo-soy-el-idiot.html">Maugeritaville</a>, and it's a pretty clear statement in English or Spanish! Check it out...<br /><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366111454725705170" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 318px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC1xmkivTwauegAUndjWcdUJ5lB6eTuYFksKuDArTrBoxY7Oa78Sy3io1nrgO4D_YkMqRpGaOQUTOnLWh1Bop6u4mnXyP9jYM5rsOcSNlqIAlzW5BYVyLlLdIRQZ1ukQGHjsx4vcapwVtE/s400/tshirt2.jpg" border="0" />I'd like to make up a couple of these bad boys and hand them out to people I know, and some random people I don't know, too. I'm sure you have some well-deserving idiots in your life as well! </p><p align="center"><em>Chris, grab your t-shirt and link back to this post if you'd like.<br />Thanks for the funny!</em></p><p>As always readers, let me know if you come across any blog headlines that would make a Terrific T-shirt. (Even a headline of your own!)</p><p>--<span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"><em>Mom</em></span></p>Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10114432538763605821noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5204295197248118321.post-69969387688702496902009-08-03T20:29:00.014-04:002009-08-05T20:38:39.757-04:00How do you like your wiener?MacDaddy's vacation is over and it's back to business as usual. For me, that means goofing online. (Lucky you!) Over the past week, we spent a few days with my folks and a few days at home, plus some time on the <a href="http://1lifeexaggerated.blogspot.com/2009/07/new-baby.html">beloved boat</a>.<br /><br />So far, we've done really well as boating newbies. MacDaddy is quite the Cap'n. You should see him dock it. He can slip her like it's his job! (That sounds kinda sexual, huh?) And me, I'm an expert map reader. Who knew I was a cartographer? As it turns out, I am! Also, I kick ass at cooler packing. There is never a shortage of food or drinks! Or beer.<br /><br />However, I've discovered a boating activity of which MacDaddy and I are none too adept -- grilling. Several companies make small gas grills that you can clamp onto the rails of your boat. We bought one shortly after deciding that we *needed* a boat. We may have even had the grill before the boat! This weekend was the debut cookery, but the attachment clamp gave us attitude.<br /><br />We needed to figure out how to keep the grill from operating like this...<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365900144581322802" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 183px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVtmgqHuNEw3zwDSBxxLF8yzW9SnVPlpZvWjr0uBMreOKE6vLBFYQuEK6BQs6CsIL4cpRWOfyHSsjGy6jamUyOp9kih2LqgOYQ43dro_By7-gt7MAc_wGdmXm1jryUVyOkEoj9f6OG-3lo/s200/grilldown.jpg" border="0" /> <div align="center">to this...</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365900062699890434" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 183px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKSRti9d4uzK3ES6Y-FVo_N6AvONw57L2_ElSt2tFQdGFBoGp7FQDroP_IY8QyW8JQ3RtE1rkObiTsnVcINKdCSHPyd-bf54CFi7J_ZNU3AGu26IIzuRcqqc1LViQ1B3aMN4IImBRXv0HA/s200/grillup.jpg" border="0" /></div><div align="center"></div><br /><p align="center">See the problem?</p><p>On Saturday, our hotdogs ended up in the lid of the grill, dangling precariously upside-down UNDER the flames. (Who likes a dangling wiener?! Not me.) Luckily dinner didn't end up in the water. Nor did we burn the boat down with our flaming gyroscope of death.<br /><br />It seems that you're supposed to adjust the support clamp to best suit the design of your boat. And in our case, the arm shouldn't have been in the vertical position. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmWbK0T8qV5NEhkj6wYHybtvb2BdBTIo_D12w_A5gI3CAf9D_MNmkqTVSxPNuRK2-9ev7H371IYf5hqzeFgcPJa8kOUe3m6mORIy6zskk18kNCu7eI2fXfEgPGIwKH6fASOiNfHPiBNtRI/s1600-h/BatteringRam.bmp"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365903193732238354" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 146px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 170px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmWbK0T8qV5NEhkj6wYHybtvb2BdBTIo_D12w_A5gI3CAf9D_MNmkqTVSxPNuRK2-9ev7H371IYf5hqzeFgcPJa8kOUe3m6mORIy6zskk18kNCu7eI2fXfEgPGIwKH6fASOiNfHPiBNtRI/s320/BatteringRam.bmp" border="0" /></a>Because it turned the grill into a top-heavy Norse battering ram like the ones at an amusement park. ------><br />Except our contraption was on fire, like a fucking circus act. As it turns out, the support arm should be in a horizontal position in order to prevent the thing from tipping. Who knew?! Again, it's a damn wonder we didn't set anything a'fire.<br /><br />Next time we go out though, I think the grill will work prefectly in the upright and locked position. And wieners will be back where they belong!</p><p>--<span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"><em>Mom</em></span></p>Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10114432538763605821noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5204295197248118321.post-50247476756286390972009-07-25T07:45:00.002-04:002009-07-25T07:48:47.991-04:00The big one!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1Ba9VDOe9KJzuAx519jDi-vtW-lC-ILxzSAwkQorpjPKLq2SXilj6pkstEusBrQ85MnSGxB6E6qaT1ZRinAWwtvFsK3BvqYhNM8Bj2xqeQ-88qUDjAxXDAAZSyZMNB1PEWy4FFUomuvqV/s1600-h/test.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362363318269800194" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 160px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1Ba9VDOe9KJzuAx519jDi-vtW-lC-ILxzSAwkQorpjPKLq2SXilj6pkstEusBrQ85MnSGxB6E6qaT1ZRinAWwtvFsK3BvqYhNM8Bj2xqeQ-88qUDjAxXDAAZSyZMNB1PEWy4FFUomuvqV/s200/test.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>I'm taking a big state exam today, and I've been studying for weeks. Wish me luck! I didn't get a chance to do my "5 for Friday" yesterday because I've been in crunch mode. Next week though, I promise! Have a good weekend, and think super test vibes. K?</div><div></div><br /><div>--<span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"><em>Mom</em></span></div>Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10114432538763605821noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5204295197248118321.post-63024006962157918532009-07-22T09:52:00.020-04:002009-07-22T11:36:36.580-04:00No love for the primates<div align="center">Have you seen this video from CNN?</div><div align="center"><br /><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dwgJCMWWIA6yhwm_I4Mrul7tSQW1zoNyiX3P3hfU4-vX3J6j1_rKhq9GFIjUY4B8ziFDUxh0het20RtwhOE9Q' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><br /><div align="left">Man, those little fuckers freak me out. They're like furry little car-jacking felons! I'm surprised they didn't pop a cap in the videographer's ass and hoist the car up onto blocks so they could chop his ride for parts. Remind me to stay out of that monkey ghetto!</div><br /><div align="left"></div><div align="left">I have a serious aversion to monkeys and apes. </div><br /><div align="left">IMO, they're all yellow-teethed, nose-picking, bug-eating, ass-scratching, shit-flingers. I don't think there's anything cute or charming about them. Remember Travis, the 200-pound chimp that attacked a Connecticut woman and ate her face off? I think the owner should have been shot right along with the chimp. An animal of that size should have been returned to the wild or kept in a facility, not allowed near people or behind the wheel of a car. </div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"><br />Have you heard about those restaurant monkeys in Japan that serve drinks? </div><div align="left"><br /><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dy2OHDE9bJkz0hbXfDqYYPoOJPvHpjwmAEZpWT4o8q2n7WKMIS8h6tvEwZfLZQ7h4x3327gBaaemI7gbNFaxQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><br /></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"><br />That is SO wrong! I do NOT want those bug-eating shit-flingers bringing me drinks in a restaurant. What if you don't tip them well enough? Will you get a face full of monkey poo?! Will one of 'em chew your face off? <em>~shudder~</em> </div><div align="left"><br />Personally, there are a couple of primates that I dislike more than others: chimpanzees, proboscis monkeys and orangutans. </div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="center"></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361282210990638930" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 149px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip0zvSKsPoi8VvvUut9m4KX7-LX-darweGD-bQyeFoedELOJOLw9rBBt8vOb7ar9Qq9AvqtT8KIVFp-yw_VYJfNUubGvR9kMZrkNAAUAaMJ_ANQ1x3bc9-W1AkjbQKRegWu52iqbTx7abR/s400/monkeys.jpg" border="0" />Check out that proboscis monkey in the middle. Does he remind you of anyone?<br /><br /><p align="center"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361282398134208786" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 128px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5hdxiPSVfpLrvhuWqysnqFhq0b7nS5_BYVsBXql0aUkX4KIdH_ZJehY24rqHdfgW21lAa1Ou2A38huHDfQ4ALPLOblLQfwtVbr54csVX80-t5rJaCOxdIKoqOqRkipKutDYz3u-6-yKdQ/s200/JimmyDurante.bmp" border="0" /><em><span style="font-size:85%;">Jimmy Durante</span></em> </p><p>I have nothing against Jimmy Durante, but admit it, he's got that monkey look about him! Poor, unfortunate bastard.</p><p>--<em><span style="font-size:130%;">Mom</span></em></p>Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10114432538763605821noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5204295197248118321.post-62942264509560908772009-07-21T09:34:00.008-04:002009-07-21T10:05:21.199-04:00Terrific T-shirt Tuesday...how about a quickie?Hey gang! It's Tuesday, so that means I've done my homework and chosen a fab headline for my <strong>Terrific T-shirt Tuesday</strong>. Today's t-shirt headline is sure to net you a whole host of new friends! (They might be questionable friends, but what do you expect wearing a shirt like this?!)<br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360909469609796050" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 318px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7wSwdppXw42HFiN2yRTSwVa5R_WBTQ2T8XiFRtDmTEGi3biIZwQb9SFMeRyDd-12IH-Ws9fWeZ8dG6uenowBcuI2p9ARSeQDHBks6tGUwYgUnhRQKGrlLpNFJh_rrofY81rCscOOLQInw/s400/tshirt2.jpg" border="0" /><br />This t-shirt has two meanings. Either the way you <strong><em>like it</em></strong>, or the way you <strong><em>deliver it</em></strong>. <em>~wink wink~</em> Either way, you have Diva on a Diet at <a href="http://beacheats.blogspot.com/2009/06/quick-and-dirty.html">Beach Eats</a> to thank for this outstanding headline.<br /><br /><div align="center"><em>Diva, grab your t-shirt and link back to this post if you'd like. Enjoy!</em></div><br />Readers, if you come across a great headline that would make a cool t-shirt, a la CNN, e-mail and let me know.<br /><br />--<span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"><em>Mom</em></span>Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10114432538763605821noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5204295197248118321.post-63311090802133672042009-07-17T03:00:00.007-04:002009-07-17T10:13:02.855-04:005 for Friday...boating boo-boosIt's Friday, so that means it's time for a list. I really dig making lists, so here's my "5 for Friday"...<strong>grievous injuries sustained on the boat in the first week of ownership</strong>.<br /><br />5. <strong>Broken nails.</strong> I have three. I'm a tacky, uneven mess right now!<br /><br />4. <strong>Cuts</strong>. I have an irritating cut in the web of my fore and middle fingers on my left hand. Plus a good one on the top of my head, see "near concussion" below.<br /><br />3. <strong>Mosquito bites</strong>. I'm covered in them. I'm sure I'll begin to exhibit signs of malaria any minute now.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim7cHo031O92dLXtMSUlHHnPXAHNvYz8ce5AQ08Y3wMGHQAGvNkFVaQNEEE3mFYWeaL0brsjwBBklJ5aRcSzIpLlgQBCNBK0GlzCYMqFUvpv6xLj-VtFM-0Bv8ZajTi64zx67whZjd-TpQ/s1600-h/bruise2.jpg"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNkDOcDaufF4XifR8omfNFnf2PQcY4KbPTey0T4ASO81IQf9W46JXxiIAyy0EJERTaDRjF4KTbGx432WY1txx28wRSJaUFPGNWM0hayIlzIleb7NzjFlqBHbwWzgeUPi1l19BFuAyR2-J6/s1600-h/bruise3.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359078881924317730" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 173px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNkDOcDaufF4XifR8omfNFnf2PQcY4KbPTey0T4ASO81IQf9W46JXxiIAyy0EJERTaDRjF4KTbGx432WY1txx28wRSJaUFPGNWM0hayIlzIleb7NzjFlqBHbwWzgeUPi1l19BFuAyR2-J6/s200/bruise3.JPG" border="0" /></a>2. <strong>Bruises</strong>. I have half a dozen bruises on my knees and shins from bumping into things. It takes some time to get used to the spacial aspects of the boat. Plus, I have a whopper on the inside of my upper arm from walking down into the cabin.<br />See -----><br />(<em><strong>Note to self:</strong></em> Don't hang on to outside handrail as you try descend the stairs, dumbass.)<br /><br />1. <strong>Near concussion</strong>. I cracked my head coming up from the cabin on the first night we did the big clean-up. I thought I would pass out as I actually saw stars. When I touched my head, there was blood. <em>~queasy~</em> It seems I slammed my noggin into the locking mechanism on the main cabin hatch. Hopefully, I'll soon master the fine art of ascending and descending the cabin stairs.<br /><br />Jesus, could I *be* a bigger damn klutz?! I'm positive the second week of boat ownership will be better, injury-wise. Wish me luck!<br /><br />--<span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"><em>Mom</em></span>Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10114432538763605821noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5204295197248118321.post-79702040292768232009-07-16T09:19:00.008-04:002009-07-16T10:19:15.693-04:00How'd you find me?<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRA2j-kfjDwerIhjbujfmU2eND8ee8vxtEp60DMb5NjSgGUjbdF4TZXXbaIlxoAUkplCRuU3JUdZNj_qkd8PoZcNWDRpQDhC8ECPTj797Jvu-8dj0XYZJiwDe2VFEC7Y2mluQF8JoKpGo6/s1600-h/search.jpg"></a>I love looking at my search statistics. It's a fascinating look into the human mind. A freaky ass look as I've discovered, but a look nonetheless.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF07vfP2q-wCicWfvyBeu_iFVHsELlFCE0K6v1hfLI9pKAky8IcohWEbDunJpUF-l8GiBm6z-U8dHu_xWM6PSGlU5r6zqwEnctz6cn1JOKcO4Qz0g_2jxVSUReHE62J5Z_NHtGWf4zY_oA/s1600-h/search.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359050896372110962" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 196px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF07vfP2q-wCicWfvyBeu_iFVHsELlFCE0K6v1hfLI9pKAky8IcohWEbDunJpUF-l8GiBm6z-U8dHu_xWM6PSGlU5r6zqwEnctz6cn1JOKcO4Qz0g_2jxVSUReHE62J5Z_NHtGWf4zY_oA/s200/search.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br />According to my numbers, it seems that people are aching for "<strong>jimmy buffet invitations</strong>." Please people, I do not have the invitations! Thanks for looking, but I'm more the go-to gal for jellos shooters and boozy watermelons. If you locate an invitation though, I'll happily bring both! Deal?<br /><br />People are looking for a "<strong>hairy mom</strong>" and a "<strong>butt naked mom</strong>." OK, seriously? Both are equally disturbing. I can sort of understand the butt naked mom (MILF!) but a hairy mom...<em>~brrrrr~</em>...that creeps me out. Who the fuck wants to find a hairy mom on the Internet? And no doubt they were looking for photos, too. Freak! (Which one of you was it?! LOL)<br /><br />I hope the person looking for "<strong>crazy 80's birthday invitations</strong>" finds one. AND invites me to the par-tay! As previously mentioned, I can be counted on to bring the shooters and watermelon.<br /><br />"<strong>Houses you did not build</strong>" isn't really all that interesting. Who wants to know that kind of information? Don't 99% of us live in houses we did not build? I'll bet whoever was searching for that lame tidbit was pretty sad to discover me bitching about stuff instead.<br /><br />I do love that someone wants to know "<strong>what funny brat pack movie featured a princess, an athlete, a brain, a basket case and a criminal?</strong>" because Breakfast Club was one of my movie faves from last week. (Glad to be of service, dude!)<br /><br />OK lastly, lemme tell ya, there are HUNDREDS of people looking for things to "<strong>butt naked</strong>." I think it's a little whack that people can't figure that one out on their own, but if Cosmo felt the need to do a whole cover article on it, I suppose it's a real problem. (C'mon people, you're naked, think it through!!) This is my post that is the most searched of all: "<a href="http://1lifeexaggerated.blogspot.com/2009/04/50-things-to-do-butt-naked.html">50 Things to Do Butt Naked</a>." It was actually one of my first!<br /><p>What searches combos got them to that post, you ask? I'll tell you!<br /></p><ul><li>50 things to do butt naked </li><li>50 things to do bare assed </li><li>50" butt (OK wait...someone is looking for a 50 inch butt?<br />Sir Mix-A-Lot would be pleased!) </li><li>Fun things to do butt naked </li><li>Cosmos 50 things to do naked </li><li>Cosmos 30 things to do to a naked man </li></ul><p>I sincerely hope there are a lot of readers out there gettin' some, with all that naked searching going on! ~wink, wink~<br /><br />So, have you ever checked your search stats? What were some of the interesting or funny catch phrases?<br /><br />--<span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"><em>Mom</em></span> </p>Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10114432538763605821noreply@blogger.com5