Admit it, THIS is why you missed me.

I now present your nominees for the WPN Hall of Shame:



GRINCH LADY



Remember the line in the cartoon version of How The Grinch Stole Christmas that goes "The Grinch got a Wonderful, AWFUL Idea" ? And then he smiles an evil, toothy sneer?












CHEWBACCA LADY


There's just not much you can do with a Mullet and a Gross Underbite.

She kinda reminds me of Chewbacca. Check it.

I guess we could say she's WOOKIE PA NUB! HAHAHAHAHA!
















And, Finally - BLUE FOOTED BOOBY CHICK!


Doesn't this gal look EXACTLY like a Blue-Footed Booby?















Sigh. I always feel like a supermodel after I look at these people. I just can't get enough.




Anyway, while I was on vacation, I was contacted (via my active Love Happens profile) by these two gentlemen:


Bachelor Number One





Here's a highlight from his profile:

Want a Baby?

"I barely make enough money to support myself, but have made two women pregnant in the past who wanted a baby without a 'man' being around (it was a 'hard' job, but I was able to 'rise' to the occasion to get it done!)."

Stop, stop! Yer killin' me with the dick puns. I love his resume, don't you? I don't make any money, but if all ya want is for me to plant a seed, I'm yer man. Is he hinting that he accepts tips?

I'm so relieved to know that if R and I should decide we want a fourth, we won't have to go through the trouble of a reverse vasectomy. As long as we don't mind babies with 50% troll DNA in them.


Bachelor Number Two



While I certainly share the opinion that you can never have enough fries, I can't stop envisioning a big ol' greasy french fry stickin right out of that big' ol gaping hole in his mouth. I wonder if he does that on dates... I mean, I'd think it's a pretty safe bet that he takes his ladyfriends to Les Arches D'Or.








And now, here are the freaks of the week.




Even Michael Bolton gave up on the Michael Bolton look a few years ago, dude.












This guy's been disappointed so many times, I bet he cries himself to sleep at night.

On one effin' ENORMOUS pillow.
















She kinda looks like a coked-out Carmela Soprano.


















This one's about odd wardrobe choices. A summery straw hat and a furry wrap that would fall off if she let go of it.



















And this one's about an odd hand pose.

I think this could be what Joy from My Name is Earl will look like in 20 years.











She describes herself as a Psychic Jewish Nudist.

It's a shame about the nudist part, as she looks so lovely in Fuchia. But she probably already knew I was going to say that.




Yeah, I know it's not my best work. Cut me some slack. I haven't had as much time to peruse the unsavories this week. Next time I'll do better.

Simpler Simple Green Questions?

So I think I'm gonna ditch the Simple Green Simple Question Game. I was going to take a bunch of it to my parents and relatives when we went on our trip, but I didn't want airport security to think I was a terrorist or anything (like I have TIME to mastermind some heinous plot to blow up a plane full of people), so here I am stuck with about 70 2-oz. bottles of Simple Green.

Oh, and if you're curious, the answer to the last question, "Which two concerts did I attend this year?" is Lyle Lovett and Cornet Chop Suey. That was a tough one.

Maybe I should just do easier questions. I gotta get rid of this stuff. Or maybe I'll just give a writing prompt and let all comments be eligible in a random drawing for a Simple Green Prize Pack. I'll have to reflect upon this.

So, what else is new, you ask?

Well, first let me congratulate Dr. Mad Scientist (Bezzie's husband, allegedly) on successfully completing his Pharmacology and Toxicology PhD requirements. Hmmmm... seems to me that the secret sweatshop of Pygmy Marmosets sounds a little less far-fetched now, wouldn't you agree? Buncha freaks.

Moving on, my boys are taking part in the Christmas Play at their school next week. Pie will be a shepherd this year (he says he wants his shepherd name to be Frank, for some reason) and Tito will be a sheep. Pie clearly understands the relationship between their two characters, as yesterday he informed me, "I GET TO OWN TITO." How sweet.

I think I'm actually almost done with Christmas shopping. I have to get a few more things for Tito's birthday which is on 12/29, but for the most part, I'm done. For the last few years, R and I have made it our goal to be completely done with our shopping by December 1st so that I can knit, relax, decorate, cook and send cards in December. I need to bust a move on my Holiday knitting. I did finish one of the little washcloth/shower gel giftiepoos and it looks really cute wrapped with a bow.

I'm almost done with my prezzies for my friend Auntie Yettie (whom you may remember from the Margaret Verbotten sweater story and from the Rosa Parks table at my sister's wedding). She'll be coming back to the S-T-L sometime soon and our plan is to see Borat. She's totally kickass. Ya think I'm kickass? No, no... I pale in comparison. To her kickassness, I mean. And, well, the other thing.

Sister's birthday is next week, she's getting "The Clutch You'll Never Give Up" from One-Skein. That was my very first Lamb's Pride Bulky experience, and I liked the softness and sturdiness of it. I'm a dork and I didn't turn it inside out before I sewed the bottom shut, but my seam came out so nicely I think I'll just leave it as is.

I've totally revved up my knitting mojo! It's keeping me from strangling my children.


Ok, here's the writing prompt I promised you -

Tell me about something you did as a kid that got you in BIG trouble. I need to feel like my kids are normal.

Miss Me, Didja??

Sunday - We made it!

The worst part of the day was the fact that we'd allowed all kinds of time to get through the lines and there were no lines, so we had to entertain ourselves at the airport for an hour and a half. Next time I'll opt for a flight that's earlier in the day. They were wanting to leave at about 6am and our flight wasn't until 3. Ugh.

The flight was fine, Tito sat with me and Beebie and Pie sat together behind me. Meeting us at the airport were Nana, PopPop (my parents), Aunt Wee (my sister) and Uncle Bama (her hubbypoo). We all went to Red Robin for dinner and went to bed to rest up for the next day's adventure.

Monday - Pie hates Texas but I love Yarntopia

We got up bright and early to drive to Weimar where the kids would stay and play while Aunt Mary Ann and I continued on to Katy for my Yarntopia Splurge! Mom and Dad even gave me some spending money!

Amylovie's shop, YARNTOPIA, is absolutely fantastic. It's bright, colorful, spacious, organized logically and easy to navagate. She's got wonderful displays. I especially loved the little snowman hat and the nifty woven-looking scarf from the cover of Vogue Knitting.

When we arrived, she was teaching a sock-knitting class. I should have sat in and learned something, but I was busy shopping. Seriously, people, I am still glowing from this expedition. I wound up with a lot of awesome yarn and I actually have solid plans for most of it. I've even started two projects already. One is the City Shawl by GlampyreKnits and the other is a total of six little cotton washcloths that I'm going to put with shower gels for my sons' teachers for Christmas. I bought a lot of yarn, and I already need to order more.




The lovely Amylovie winding my lovely Malabrigo
















My haul





And get this, y'all - I GOT TO SIT DOWN IN A YARN SHOP. To my recollection, this phenomenon has never occurred before. I'm always in a hurry and trying to make sure the boys don't start unravelling and destroying things. I actually got to sit down and have a relaxing and yummy LUNCH while having grownup/knitting-related conversation with my aunt and cousin. It was Heaven.

I called to check in on my apes who had been having a good time themselves at my aunt and uncle's house. They had been on a walk and apparently Pie slipped when they were walking near the pond (into which they were throwing rocks and cow pies)and gotten his shoes muddy. My mom told me Pie had asked her for a piece of paper so he could make a sign that said "Dear Mom, please don't kill me when you see my shoes."

Then Tito wanted to talk to me, so Nana gave him the phone.

Tito: Hi Mommy!

Me: Hi sweetie, are you guys having fun?

Tito: Yes, and Ry got his shoes ALL MUDDY!


Way to sell out your brother.


Plus, I got to meet Sheryl, who is such a hoot! She was talking on the phone and I overheard her saying, "Now WHY won't you play dress-ups with your Grandaughter??!!?" I assume she was talking to her husband. Sheryl took this picture of us.





Yarntopia definitely made my yarn dreams come true. I've gone to sleep every night since with visions of Fleece Artist Yarn dancing in my head. That's it, I need to lay off the spicy foods.

Oh, afterwards, we met up with my mom and dad and uncle and the kiddos at the park and as we pulled in, I saw Mr. Pie sitting on a bench with Nana and PopPop. Right away I assumed he was either hurt or in trouble. Turned out, he was hurt. He got the sharp point of one of those evil Texas burrs stuck in his foot and PopPop had to take it out with tweezers. Pie was miserable. I asked him if he was okay, and he said, "Yes, but I HATE TEXAS!"


Tuesday - The Barrio and The Bezz

My dad doesn't have the standard issue, base model "This Might Not Be A Good Idea" filter in his head like most people have. My kids love it.

A "No Trespassing" sign, for example, means nothing to him. Observe:

Um, Dad? That sign we just passed said Trespassers Will Be SHOT.

Beh, it's ok. We're not going to be here very long.

Like if we don't get out of the car it doesn't count. Like if our intentions are honorable, they'll understand. Like of course they'll just naturally assume we're not going to hurt anything. Like they'll stop to ask questions before they open fire. Yeah.

Tuesday Mom had to work a half-day so he took the kids and me to go watch trains. Only one of us thought it was interesting. Personally, I was kinda terrified by the fact that we were driving along some marginally paved road which was probably technically not a road at all. The houses we drove by had plywood with spray-painted gang grafitti covering the windows, bars on the doors, and pit bulls guarding the primer-grey cars parked amidst waist-high weeds in the backyards.

But we saw trains. In fact, we could have rolled down the window and TOUCHED the aforementioned trains. Just a little scary. And then, the train blew his horn. I thought Tito was gonna crap his pants (and he's been doing so well!). After his inital reaction of terror, he was downright giddy.

We picked Mom up at her work and I reminded her that today was the day that we were going to meet my friend Bezzie and her son Chunky.

You have to keep in mind that in my mom's world, everything that has ever been featured in a Dateline Investigation is inevitably going to happen to YOU. You also have to keep in mind that she really doesn't get the whole concept of the Online Community.

She's not technologically savvy. At all. In fact, she confuses the terms "online" and e-mail", so she thinks I know Bezzie from something called "The E-line".

"How do you know that this Bessie person from The E-Line is who she says she is??"

Well, Mom, I guess I don't, but I know her name and her address and her cell phone number and where she works and... (trying to avoid the word BLOG lest she ask me about mine)

"She could be making all of that up, ya know! She could be one of those Internet Predators from Dateline!"

Yeah, Mom, knitters are notorious for that. Ok, we're going to be in a public place, and you and Dad and the kids are all going to come with me, and I really doubt she would kill and dismember all of us in front of everyone at Cici's. Keep your cell phone on, though, just in case.

Yes, folks, it's true. I MET BEZZIE. And lemme tell ya -

Sometimes my mom knows what she's talkin' about.

Here's what I have to say about the ordeal:

Bezz was every bit as charming and witty as one who knows her from the Knittyboard and her blog would expect her to be. But I'm here to testify to the fact that your beloved Bezzie has what I would call a Dark Side.

You know that cute little kid she takes all those pictures of? Chunky? I don't know how to tell you this, but I don't think Chunky's her son. Let me lay out the evidence and you can draw your own conclusion.





During dinner at Cici's Pizza, she managed to charm and beguile my family and me into a false sense of security. I thought it was a little odd that she was wearing black leather gloves when it was 80 degrees outside (note that her hands are under the table), but I invited Bezzie to follow us back to my parents' house to hang out and talk about our current WIPs.

Whips? She laughed nervously. Oh no, no... I don't have any whips. Looking back, this should have been Red Flag Number One.

No, Bezz, Works In Progress. W-I-P. WIPs. What are you working on?

Ummmm... I don't know. Chunky, what am I working on?

Chunky looked panicked and a little bit pale. It was chilling.

"Cat Poo Booga Bag?" Chunky whimpered.

NO, DAMMIT, YOU ALREADY FINISHED THAT ONE! She raised her hand like she was going to smack him but then apparently realized that she was at my house and ran her fingers through her hair instead. I couldn't believe it. Red Flag Numbero DOS.

She awkwardly excused herself and asked me where the restroom was. After directing her down the hall, I knelt down in front of Chunky and asked him if he was okay.

He nodded and said, "Sometimes she yells at us."

You mean you and your dad?

"No, me and the monkeys."

What monkeys?

"The monkeys who live there... in her closet."

This was odd. I mean, I call my kids The Apes but I'd only ever heard her mention Chunky on the blog. I had to ask again.

C'mon, Chunky - monkeys? Are you talking about brothers and sisters?

"Monkeys. There's maybe about a hundred of them. We're all her workers. We do her work for her. She's the boss of us. We call her THE MAN."

Shut the f*ck up... are you kidding me???

"We make things out of yarn and then she takes pictures of them and tells her friends that SHE made them."

So, lemme get this straight. You and a bunch of chimpazees live in a closet and knit stuff all day so she can post pictures and stories on her blog and tell the world how clever and creative she is?

"Actually, they're mostly Pygmy Marmosets. Cuz they're smaller and they eat bugs and ants and stuff. Plus they're really good knitters cuz they can use their hands and their feet at the same time. They can see in the dark and they have also prehensile tails."



WOW. This kid was pretty smart.

Like C3PO Smart.

Obviously adopted. Or perhaps abducted.

Or maybe she built him from a kit.


And come to think of it, Chunky had absolutely inhaled his dinner. Like a kid who'd survived on ants and pygmy marmoset droppings for a while.

Chunky, do you live in the closet too?

"Sometimes. THE MAN has a lot of Holiday Knitting to do. She won't let us sleep. She said she'll get us the Knit Lite needles but she's probably waiting for a coupon. When the monkeys are done with something I have to put mistakes in it so people will believe she made it herself."

Mother of God, this is SO EFFED UP.

"And I'm not allowed to talk about the one who didn't purl right, but she whipped him really hard. Not W-I-P. Whip. Whip with an H."

And it just got MORE EFFED UP. God, what a freak!!


So now the secret was out about Bezzie and her secret sweatshop of pygmy marmosets. And as I was debating whether I should call Child Services or Animal Services first, she came sprinting out of the bathroom, grabbed Chunky's hand and hissed, "We have to GO."

Here's her trying to tell me her ridiculous sob story about how she didn't have any friends and she thought if she could find a hobby she could join an online community of some sort and feel a sense of acceptance.

And you'll notice I'm saying "WHATEVER!"




Watch for her on Dateline.

Or The E-Line.



Wednesday - Belated Blogstalking

Remember the Blogstalking assignment about "Something you've had for a long time that you don't even know why you have" or something like that? I figured my parents' house would be the freakin' motherlode jackpot for crazy shit like that. I think the idea of the assignment was to find some trinket or some other item in your house that holds sentimental value, so maybe I'm employing some poetic license here, but I just had to show you all this.



My parents have all kinds of old spices in their baking cabinet. Last time I visited I found a little container of MSG, probably from back in the days before we knew MSG was bad. This time I found this can of dried parsley flakes hidden in the back. I can't remember a single dish that my mother has served in my entire life that utilzed Parsley Flakes.



I was worried that perhaps this was made back before they put expiration dates on stuff, but I looked and saw this on the bottom of the can.

That's September 6, 1981. To put this in perspective, that means that this can was already twelve years old when we packed it up from our house in Missouri and moved it 1000 miles to San Antonio, back in 1993. Classic.


Thanksgiving Thursday - Food and Family

We went back to Weimar for excellent food and great family fun. I even got to knit some more. I swear I spent more time knitting on this trip than I did sleeping.







Black Friday - Shopping and Tourist Stuff

We got up and went to Target (still early but after all the 5am lunatics were long gone) where I found exactly the two things I was looking for. Later, the entire family (my mom & dad, the apes, my sister and BIL, my aunt and uncle from Ohio and their 3 kids and my aunt and uncle from Texas) went to Rivercenter Mall and a Semi-Grand Tour of Downtown San Antonio which culminated in frozen margaritas at El Mercado and a yummy dinner at Taco Cabana (my favorite).














Saturday - La Cantera

I got to go shopping kid-free with my Ohio aunt and nose-stud cousin. I went to Bath and Body Works with my $10 off a $30 purchase coupon and spent exactly $30. I bought little shower gels which I'm going to pair with color-coordinated hand-knit cotton washcloths for the boys' teachers' Christmas gifts. It'll save me from having to buy gift bags.

I was also accosted by one of those kiosk people who buff one of your fingernails to a high-gloss shine and leave the other nine alone. Oh, I hate that. I'm such a sucker. I cave. I hate feeling anything less than symmetrical. So now all my nails are shiny and my cuticles aren't getting snagged on my knitting.

Later that evening, we got in the security line at the airport and Beeb cried the whole time because she didn't want to leave. I reminded her that today was Daddy's birthday and poor Daddy was home all by himself all week. This time we planned it so that there wasn't so much waiting time at the gate (MUCH better). Beeb and Pie got into it a couple of times on the plane and Tito fell asleep, and Daddy was waiting for us at the baggage claim. Remember the days when you could wait at the gate? Good times.

We made it. We survived.

Happy Birthday. Here's your present - Scarface for Xbox.
I'm goin' to bed.


Sunday - The Inlaws

Pop Quiz - Guess which panties I wore?

FIL never once asked me about our trip. And every time I tried to mention something that had to do with, um, ME, he steered the conversation back in his own direction. At one point he was talking about their multitude of cats (the same number of disciples that Jesus had - coincidence? I mean, the man thinks he's God, for cryin' out loud) and how impressed their vet was by what good health they're all in (since most people who have that freakin' many cats are those icky hoarder people), and to make conversation I said,

"Oh yeah, I forgot my parents have cats and I set my knitting down and one of the cats ate it... oh, did I mention that my cousin owns a yarn shop? I got to go there and hang out and get a bunch of great yarn..."

And without missing a beat, as though I hadn't said anything at all, he replied by continuing with alarming detail about how one of their cats poops and barfs simultaneously whenever they put him in the car for the vet.

During dinner. Serves me right for interrupting.

Yup, I guess we're home.

Just Checkin' In

We made it!

Everything's going great, nobody got lost at the airport.

I will give a detailed update when I get home. Meanwhile, have a good turkey, everybody!

T minus one hour...

We're getting ready to leave in about an hour, but I wanted to tell everyone about the totally freaked-out dream I had that woke me up and kept me up since about 3am this morning.

I dreamed that we lost Ry at the airport.

R picked me up outside the airport in a beat up old blue pick-up truck with no car seats in it. I realized Ry was lost (and come to think of it, the other two kids weren't there either), and I told R to stay with the truck while I went back inside the airport and ran around trying to find someone who could help me.

And who did I find?

Mary from the Amazing Race, who kept telling me to put my bags down and just run (I was like, uh, no way I'm putting my bag down in an airport)

Katie Holmes, who was sitting at a table flipping her hair and snarling at me with her icky snaggletooth (Tom Cruise was not present). At some point she was looking straight at me and whispering to the person she was sitting next to, and I asked them if they could please help me find my son. She spun around and turned her back to me and I very loudly and bitterly said:

"Well, at least I didn't name my kid something STUPID!"

And Philip Kiriakis from Days of Our Lives (which I've watched on-and-off since I was in about 8th grade) who was looking at himself in a mirror and putting on lipstick saying, "This is who I am now".


Spicy food before bed, my friends. Think twice.

East Coast Knitters ROCK!

I HATE it when my pyooter isn't working. You might as well tie my hands behind my back and stick a sock in my mouth. I hate being unable to communicate. I couldn't send email and couldn't upload pics, so I am late in proclaiming my thanks to fellow Knittyheads Turtlegirl, Trillian, Zknitter, Roxy and AliceC who put together a fantastic package overflowing with goodies to cheer and de-stress me.



Overflowing. Literally. I mean, LOOK. I tried to keep track of what came from whom so that I can thank everyone properly, but I think you'll understand how a girl could get confused.





The first package I opened was from Zonda (I think). It's a book I've wanted for a really long time and the needles to go with it. This alone would easily been enough for me to be giddy about, but no... there's more.














Roxy sent this stuff - a makeup bag complete with makeup and other such yummy-smellin' goodies. And pink Cascade Fixation! For some reason, I love knitting pink things.











The boys were SO excited to open this from Turtlegirl!

It bought me about 80 priceless minutes of peace.
















Gorgeous Koigu from Trillian!











And here's a funny story - last week co-conspirator Bezzie emailed to ask me if I'd tried these interchangable needles. I said that I hadn't but that I'd been thinking about it, and since I'm such a good friend, in addition to my endorsement, I even emailed her a coupon so she could score them at 40% off.

I came within inches of purchasing them for myself last weekend (since they were clearly good enough for Bezz) and then at the last minute I thought, "no, I shouldn't... I mean, it would be nice, but I really don't need this..." so I put them back and actually left Michaels with nothing. This was a super surprise, and so was the Lornas Laces yarn in the colorway called BLACK PURL! How appropriate!







Sockatta from AliceC!

The boys want me to make them socks out of this.











And finally, ORGANIZATIONAL TOOLS for Beebie and me! Lord knows we need it.




A huge whopping thank you to all of you East Coast Knitters, and to the other well-wishers (a big wet sloppy smooch to you, Dan!)who well-wished me out of my recent funk. I'm doing much better. I'm down to only a couple of relatively minor stress factors.

Specifically, television has been disappointing me lately. I haven't been nearly as committed to this season of Survivor as I have been in the past. Today, however, I'm actually happy about some TV-ish stuff. Season 6 of Sopranos is FINALLY out on DVD (Yay! It's like a family reunion with your creepy old uncle who tried to kill you!) so that's what R and I have been watching. Can I just go on record with the fact that if any of my kids turn out to be as big a worthless piece of crap as A.J. Soprano, I will have them whacked? Thanks.

And Blockbuster Online now has this new thing where if you take the DVD you got in the mail to their store you can trade it in for a rental, plus you'll still get the next one from your queue mailed to you. It's awesome, you get a free in-store movie while you're waiting for your next one to come in the mail. Basically, you wind up getting twice as many movies. I know a lot of people prefer Netflix, but for my money, I LOVE Blockbuster Online.

And may I gloat over how Emmitt Smith won Dancing With The Stars and he was my favorite from the very beginning?

I'm deleriously happy that 30 Rock is getting its due and moving to Thursday nights! If you haven't seen it, you should. Alec Baldwin is one of the funniest actors out there. The whole cast is brilliant.

I have started taking a new Bellydance class on Thursday nights, which is partly why Survivor and I are falling out of love. The class is tough but I have a cool friend who has a son in Ry's Pre-school class and another son in Tito's class, plus a newborn son. She's kickass. She's the Anti-Stella.

Anti-Stella is so cool that she didn't get mad when I called her 5 minutes before our bellydance class started to let her know that I wasn't going because I had just spent the last half-hour figuring out what I was going to make for dinner, going online to find a particular recipe for chicken breast, locating and mixing the necessary ingredients and various utensils and preheating the oven only to discover that the 2 pounds of chicken I was going to cook had spoiled and smelled so nasty I started dry heaving and then I cried and now I just kinda didn't feel like going anywhere and I especially didn't feel like shakin' my can in Bellydance class. She understands shit like that.

Anti-Stella and I and our boys were invited on a play date with Ry's friend Camille earlier this week. Camille's mom is sweet as can be, but marginally OCD (I think I'll refer to her as Margie for marginal), I suspect. Camille also has twin brothers who are 2-ish, so there were 9 kids running around (ok, 8 running around, the baby is just teeny) Camille's house. It was insanity.

I got to hold the teeny baby for a little while, and he was so snuggly and clean-baby smelling it was just really sweet until he started rooting. Oh, no, no...no, my friend... I laughed nervously.

Note: Here's your last chance to bail out before I start talking about my boobs.

I have a bit of a love/hate thing with my breasts. I was an early bloomer and blossomed into a D cup in high school. You may not be aware of this, but there is a common misconception that any girl with huge boobs is automatically a slut. I think I managed to do my part in shattering that stereotype. Boys are stupid.

When I got pregnant with Beebie, they grew even bigger. I felt like I was in a freakshow. I hated nursing, too. I hated the letdown reflex, hated leaking, hated trying to find nursing bras in my size, hated the fact that I couldn't poke R to get up in the night and feed her if she cried, it was all on me. And I was aware of the possibility of pumping into a bottle but the LAST thing in the world I wanted was to hook a machine up to them so I could feel even more like a cow.

Anyway, I have recently come to appreciate my body in a healthier way. And to celebrate that fact, I got my nipples pierced a couple of years ago. I mainly did it because I knew R didn't think I'd do it. I don't like to lose a game of Chicken, if ya know what I mean. And I was good and sure we didn't want any more babies, cuz I'm closing off the tap once and for all. I don't even want to be tempted.

So I went to this place called Goldenlands on the recommendation of my friend Maddie who also had hers pierced for a time. By the way, Maddie, if you're reading this, please call me. A girl named Jessica (who had, among other things, the skin in the back of her neck pierced) did the work, and R went in the room with me too. Yes, it hurt. The second one hurt more than the first. But they don't hurt anymore. They do, however, conduct cold, which can be downright painful in the winter.

I still can't believe I did it, but I did. I have steel curved barbells. I love them. I can't really feel them except for (ahem) sometimes, but I like how they look on me. I feel like they make me look more symmetrical. I love that they make me feel like a badass. I love that they remind me of how pain is temporary. They're totally symbolic of the fact that I'm too much of a nonconfrontational puss to pierce something that would be readily visible, like a nose or an eyebrow, but I'm still ballzy enough to get a big freakin needle shot through a body part. Twice.

Other than on my blog, I'm relatively private about my badass side. I'm more of a covert, hush-hush, closet, undercover agent badass. It's my little secret from the world. Kinda like my Power Panties, only I wear these all the time. I especially think it's funny when I know people can see them through my shirt but they're trying not to stare.

And more than anything, it cracks me up that my FIL probably never thought he'd have a pierced freak for a daughter-in-law. My sister has her tongue pierced, so I figure my parents can make peace with mine. Except I haven't really told them yet. I'm 98% sure somebody told my mom, though. Whatever. I guess I'd show her if she asked.

So while I was holding Anti-Stella's baby, I let it slip to the other moms that my nips were thusly adorned, and I think Margie was kinda horrified but Anti-Stella said, "Oh, I can TOTALLY see you as someone who'd have a cool piercing!"

Hello, New Best Friend!

I think I'll teach her how to knit.

Today's WPN Theme - Bad Hair Day!

Ok, I'm going to be out of town next week so I hope this batch holds you until then.

How about this idea - I'll invite everyone to nominate their favorite past WPN pic and next week I'll post the winners in a WPN Hall of Shame. I'm gonna go ahead and cast my vote for the Blue Footed Booby girl.

All right, here's this week's crop. And the theme is BAD HAIR DAY.



This guy's username is dream_maker4u.

As long as your dream isn't of him getting a haircut.
















Is this like a bald-guy Mohawk?













With all due respect, sir, I don't care what kind of uniform you're wearing, it's impossible to be a skull-crackin' badass when you're a guy with side-swept bangs.

It's pretty much the polar opposite of badass.












Not just bald, but pasty and bald.













Leathery-faced bouffant guy with earrings!

Yay! Santa got my letter!



















At first I thought he was wearing a vest.


















Ok, you're on the right track, dude - a semi-thick mustache will help you look more badass, but the shiny hairpiece is rather detrimental to the overall effect.













I'm at a loss here. Other than just a resounding "Eeeeewww..."












I can't stop wondering what this dude does for a living.

With the swoopy hair, the lazy eye, and odd wardrobe selection of the jacket over the polo shirt, my guess would be something in radio.
Or shoe sales.

No offense, shoe salespeople.
Or radio people.









Jimmy Buffett apparently got Wilford Brimley's experimental medical supplies in the mail by mistake causing some freaky mitosis shit that scientists are still trying to explain. Meanwhile, this dude makes me think of a gay Captain Kangaroo.

I should probably thank my parents for the years of quality education they funded - all so I could whip out the word "mitosis" (flanked, of course, by the vernacular gems from the opposite end of the diglossic spectrum, "freaky" and "shit") on my silly little blog. Deep down, I know they're proud.







Hey, who let Billy Bob SlingBlade in the Server Room??? SECURITY!!!














And now, the ladies -





Y'know when you kinda hope for their sake that it's a reeeeally old picture? Yeah.















I'll be darned. Women can do the combover too! And it looks just as horrible!














Dammit, Gramma, get off the webcam! You're grossing people out!















This chick's hair is the LEAST of her issues.










I think this lady is this guy's mom.
Remember him, from the October 11th edition?






















The traditional Glamour Shots pose doesn't work in the Glamour Shots photos, let alone when you're just hanging out in your white overalls.

And the black eyeliner doesn't make you look glamourous either. It just makes you look icky. And sad.
And scary.





I know there's a lot of peer pressure out there, but please, kids, I can't stress this enough. There are many dangers of abusing alcohol and other drugs you might not have thought of.

Don't ever cut your own bangs when you're drunk. And don't get so drunk that you pass out and let other people cut your bangs.

Alcohol and haircutting utensils are a very hazardous combination. Don't let THIS happen to you. Just say NO.