So I've been tagged three times (by Poops, LynnM, and Carmen) to reveal seven random things about myself.
Seven, huh? Fine.
Shall I relate each to one of the Deadly Sins, just for fun?
Sloth - I hate mopping the kitchen floor. And updating the bank balance. And laundry. And hand-washing dishes.
Gluttony - Sometimes, when my kids aren't around, I'll hit the drive-thru and have a damn milkshake for breakfast.
Lust - Johnny Depp. Johnny Depp. Johnny Depp.
Envy - I quote Morrissey - We hate it when our friends become successful. I hate to say it, but it's really kinda true.
Wrath - I don't think I have a really hot temper, but I hold grudges FOREVER. I know it's wrong, but if somebody wrongs me, I may forgive, but I never forget. I LOVE a well-crafted and perfectly-timed revenge plot.
Pride - One of my proudest accomplishments is the time I saved over $26 in coupons at the grocery store. I'm DAMN proud of that. In fact, I still have the actual receipt taped to the refrigerator.
Greed - I'm working on my greed issues. I haven't bought yarn, CD's or clothes for myself for quite some time. I did buy a pair of shoes last week, but they were only $20 and I really kinda needed them. Kinda.
Nah, if there's a theme to the randomness, then that's not really random, is it? Ok, then - y'all are getting a bonus. I'll reveal seven more things. And these will be random.
1. Back when I was single, I was what I like to call a "last name shopper". By that I mean that I would have serious reservations about marrying a guy whose last name I didn't like, either for the way it fit with my first name or for whatever other reason I could think of.
For example, one guy I dated for a really long time's last name rhymed with my first name. I didn't want to be Sarah Barerra. Call me shallow. Another guy I dated's last name was Tsiu, pronounced like Sue. I didn't want to go through life as Sarah Sue either.
In my own defense, in both cases there were myriad other reasons why it just wasn't going to work out between me and the aforementioned guys (who are now on the scrap heap along with the other guys whose hearts I've broken in my younger days).
My other primary reason for rejecting a last name was where it came in the alphabet. No Abernathy, and no Zwieben. I went through school with an end-of-the-alphabet last name and I hated it. The only thing worse, I always imagined, would be having the first name on the class list and having to go first on Oral Book Report Day.
I absolutely love my married name. It rolls beautifully off the tongue. Plus, as a bonus, I got a fantastic husband too.
2. I had a roommate in college that I couldn't stand. I actually had three roommates, and the other two hated the roommate too. She was just a redneck idiot. For a while she was dating two guys, both named Brad. Brad #1 was technically her fiance, and he was attending a school about an hour away. Brad #2, conveniently, lived in the fraternity house next door. My boyfriend was in the same fraternity.
The Much-Despised Roommate met Brad #2 when she and I attended a party at the neighboring fraternity house. Neither of us got home until the next day, but I got home quite a bit earlier and informed the other roommates that I was pretty sure she'd shacked up with Brad #2. We heard her merrily trotting up the stairs and decided to pretend we were asleep so we wouldn't have to hear her tell all of us about how amaaaaaazing her evening of Bradlust was. Gag.
Ok, it was like 2:00 in the afternoon.
She barges in and starts to speak the beginning word of any sentence she ever spoke... "(insert stereotypical sorority girl gasp) Ahmigodyaguys...", then she realizes we're all asleep and immediately picks up the phone.
Obviously, we could hear only her end of the conversation.
AhmigodTina! Guess what?
I TOTALLY shacked with Brad last night!
I know! I know!!!
He's sooooo cute!
Ugh, no he's not! He's a Neanderthal. His knuckles practically drag on the ground. His fraternity brothers call him Lurch, for cryin' out loud.
And he's reeeeeeally sweet. I can't wait for you to meet him!
(pause - and don't think we didn't know just exactly what question was being asked)
Well, we tried but... he couldn't get it up.
We shook in our beds with silent laughter.
Well, I'm gonna go take a shower, I just HAD to tell you!
I shared that story because for some reason I remembered it today. I assure you that it wasn't because of some erectile dysfunction. R's plenty functional.
3. R got a vasectomy on our anniversary two years ago. I like to think of it as The Gift That Keeps On Not Giving.
4. I can say the names of all fifty states in alphabetical order in less than ten seconds. I can also fit my entire fist in my mouth. The latter is a popular party trick.
5. My parents, sister and I were in a commercial once when I was about nine or ten years old. It was for a bank. My line was "C'mon, Dad, let's go!" or something like that. I never got to see it because the bank was located in a different part of the state.
6. I've been watching the DVD's of Little House On The Prairie with my kids. I used to love that show. I think I'll conveniently skip the one when Albert's girlfriend gets raped, though.
7. I told my Beloved Local Meteorologist that I was pregnant with Tito before I told my parents. See, the reality is, I have a crush on him, but we actually are friends and have been for about five years, when I first met him at a station-sponsored premiere of the movie Ice Age.
That random enough?
I have no idea who hasn't been tagged for this, so I hereby invite anyone who hasn't to participate!
Thursday, May 31, 2007
So I've been tagged three times (by Poops, LynnM, and Carmen) to reveal seven random things about myself.
Sunday, May 27, 2007
Monday, May 21, 2007
... and all I got was this lousy T-shirt!
Let me preface this whole story by saying that I had never been to a Ren Faire before. The Pirate Festival was similar, but this was a full-on Renaissance Faire. You also have to appreciate that hangin out with Rennies is SO not my scene. I mean, I'm a closet geek, I'll admit it, but Ren Faires are a little too In Yer Face with the geekiness for my taste.
But I did it. I went. I didn't get all garbed up, but I went. We stayed the whole day. AND I liked it. AND I'll go again. AND maybe I'll dress up in something wenchy.
HUZZAH! We had a good time. I even did the Caber Toss, can you believe? And quite well, I might add.
There's sumthin kinda hot about dudes in kilts. I actually said that to one of the young Scots, to which he replied,
"Aye, yer a flurrrrrty thing, aren't ye?"
Why, yes. Yes, I am.
Must be all that practice I've had flirting with my Beloved Local Meteorologist, Upon Whom I Have a Wickedly Impure Crush.
There's also sumthin really sexy about a dude walkin around in garb and gnawin on a big ol' turkey leg. I know that's probably icky to most people, but for some bizarre reason, I'm incredibly turned on by that. I, myself, however, prefered to eat something more dainty. Like a roasted ear of corn. Yum.
I'm Dead Sexy!! You know you want summa dis!
I never know if I'm supposed to speak in character to someone in a costume if I'm not dressed as a character, ya know? I'd just want to talk like my snarky lil self to the villagers and the merchants and everyone would speak to me in accents and it was cool but it also frustrated me a little simply because I wanted to ask real, honest, questions like, aren't you DYING in that corset??
Anyway, then I met The Falconer Lady whose falcon freaked me out when he flapped his wings and BRAAAAAWKED and looked like he was gonna rip out a vein in my neck or something. I thought R was going to piss himself laughing at me. He shoulda snapped a picture of me screaming and running away in horror, I'm sure it would have been hilarious. I'm freakin' terrified of birds. Particularly birds of, um, prey.
Beebie and Pie wore the hats I made them, from the book Folk Hats. Tito also wore a hat I made, but it was the one I made him for his Halloween costume - James, from the Thomas the Tank Engine series. Not exactly period, but he wanted to wear something that his mommy made too.
You may recognize Beeb's shawl as the one I wore to the Pirate Festival.
The blue cards in their hands are their King's Quest Cards. You're supposed to visit the different booths and merchants and get them to stamp the card, then when the King and Queen hold court, you present them with your completed quest card and you are Thereby Officially Knighted.
Pie was deliriously excited about that.
Here are my children being named Defenders of the Realm. It was a very proud moment for me as a parent, lemme tell ya.
Beebie was also selected from the audience to play the Queen in a play about Sir George and the Dragon.
Pie didn't want to be in the show. He wanted to try on fancy clothes.
So we walked around and the boys got some fancy wooden swords (which you have to pronounce like Darrell Hammond as Sean Connery) and Beeb got some fancy pink and purple knee socks, and I got some perfume oil, and then it was time for the Joust.
Based on where we were sitting, we were supposed to cheer for the bad guy. His name was Malcolm, and his motto was "cheat to win". It was interesting to watch the Joust, especially as it was billed as To The Death. At the end, Duncan, the good guy (the one we were actually cheering against), was about to win but Malcolm begged for mercy, and then when Duncan had his back turned and was giving a little speech about the virtues of being merciful, Malcolm snuck up behind him and stabbed him. And, as if that weren't enough, Malcolm knelt down, took his dagger and cut Duncan's throat.
CUT THE MAN'S THROAT. Blood spurting and everything. If you look carefully at this picture, you can see it.
I mean, obviously, it was pretend, but shit! I didn't expect that much realism. It was kinda horrifying.
You should have seen my poor Pie. He turned pale. He was absolutely AGHAST. I poked R to make sure he told Pie it was pretend, and once Pie realized the blood was fake, he was just fine.
Speaking of my Pie, he is now a PreSchool Graduate. His class had their little graduation ceremony yesterday, and, as I had previously warned Anti-Stella, I wept. It was that Michael W. Smith "Friends" song. It gets me every single time. Seriously. Even thinking about it now, I'm choking up a little.
I managed to videotape the ceremony for R, whose evil job would not let him leave for an important milestone in his child's academic career. But said evil job pays the evil bills, so whatever. And here's where I was going with that thought - I cried again while I watched the tape.
Anyway, as he walked back down the aisle after receiving his diploma, he did the Rock 'N Roll hand gesture which I found rather amusing.
And, as part of the ceremony, each kid gets to say what they want to be when they grow up. For the last several months, Pie has declared that he wants to be a comic book artist. Yesterday, however, he said he wanted to be a teacher. Everyone went "awwwwww...".
I was just glad he didn't say he wanted to be a lazy fatass like his mommy. He's been known to say totally off the wall stuff that embarrasses the friggin hell outta me.
So, let me think what else is going on... well, I've been trying to commit myself to exercising more with the kids, and the only way to really do that is to actually trick them into it by telling them we're going on a Nature Hike.
Last Saturday we went on a Nature Hike. The kids were really good for me on the 3/4 mile walk and I was proud of them.
And we saw some nature.
Including a skink, I think.
Pie wanted to name it Skinky the Skink. I thought it would be funny to name it Skanky the Skink. Beeb suggested we name it Britney Spears, since her name and the word Skanky are pretty much interchangable.
Tomorrow night, Beeb is playing My Country 'Tis of Thee on her flute in the school's Variety Show. I'll take a photo or two for you. I haven't heard whether or not Aldigirl will be performing. I sure hope so.
In knitting news, I'm working on something - another stashbuster projext - and I'll show you when I'm done. Unless it sucks, in which case, I won't show anyone.
I'm also working on my Dong-A-Long project. I've received three so far, and I'll post them on the Dong-A-Long Blog later this week.
Thus Spake Penny Karma, aka the F-Bomb Mom at 11:26 AM
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
Pie's class had a Mother's Day Breakfast (originally billed as Mothers' Tea, but tea was not actually served) last week, and among the festivities was the game "Figure Out Which Portrait On The Wall Is Supposed To Be You." There were little descriptions under each picture to help you guess, but the artist's name was covered up to make it more challenging.
Here's me. I had the biggest smile of all of the moms.
I don't know what's up with the double chin, though. Or that red line between my eyes. I asked Pie if it was my eyebrow (singular), and he said no, it was my glasses.
His description of me went like this:
My mom has orangish hair.
Her favorite colors are purple and green.
She is good at knitting.
Her favorite food is Macaroni Pizza.
I like it when she cuddles me in bed.
I loved that he said I was good at knitting, cuz I don't think I am. He's probably just kissing my butt so I'll make him a Superhero Cape or something. He's been the recipient of a few knitted items recently. Including these, which I intended to look like something a knight would wear. He called them his Quidditch Gloves.
I also made him and Beeb each a hat for the upcoming Renaissance Faire. I made Pie's out of Touch Me I traded with Pam, and I made Beeb a peasant hat out of some Lamb's Pride Bulky I had, so both projects came from my stash. I'm too lazy to get up and take pictures of them right now. I'll post them later, when we actually go to the Faire.
But anyway, back to the portrait - some of the other kids said their moms were good at laundry, selling Girl Scout Cookies, and doing cartwheels. One mom's favorite food was McDonald's. Yeah, right, kid. Another's was Chocolate. I thought Pie described me pretty well! Y'know, considering the fact that he's too young to say his mom is cool as Friggin Hell.
The kids also set the tables, and at my seat was this hand-decorated plate:
I am on the left. Pie is on the right. There's a heart between us because we love each other. There's a rainbow in the sky and we're walking through the flowers. I love the artwork he does.
This clever garden stone came from Beebie. She put a stich marker because she knew I like knitting, and that I'd get mad if she swiped one of my needles. The letters are from my Boggle game (guess I need a new one), and she used the first initials of each of the kids, plus D for Dad. She used the dice with a 5 on it to stand for the 5 members of our family. She also put in a cap from a water bottle and from my favorite soda (Boylan's Diet Creme Soda).
I loved how she found lots of little things that I like around the house, but I was puzzled by the horse. I'm not really a horse person, other than my Nancy Kerrigan flaring nostrils. Horses kinda freak me out. So I asked Beeb why she put a horse in it, and she said she just put it there because she liked it. Whatever, it's cool.
And this was from Tito Mosquito! He painted me a flowerpot and the flower inside it is actually a pen! Cute, and functional!
Next to the flower, in the pot was a little picture of Tito on a stick. I'm going to put it next to the one Pie made for me last year.
So that was my Mother's Day Haul. I can't complain! Well, I could, but I won't.
As if you needed any more evidence that I'm a damn genius, please meet my friend Mark Twain.
Tell me that's not a KICKASS costume!!
Thus Spake Penny Karma, aka the F-Bomb Mom at 2:47 PM
Sunday, May 13, 2007
Have you read my Mother's Day Malaise Trilogy over there in the Cliff's Notes section? You should.
Friday was the Mother's Day Tea at Pie's school. I'll have to show you what he made for me. All the kids drew portraits of their moms. It was really cute. Tito painted me a flowerpot. Beeb's at a sleepover party right now. We'll see if she remembers to say Happy Mother's Day to me.
I woke up at 4am and couldn't go back to sleep. And then, I was summoned into action at 6:45 by Tito whacking me in the face with his empty chocolate milk cup.
I suppose technically I had Breakfast In Bed. I brought a Boylan's Diet Creme Soda and a box of Wheat Thins back to the bedroom with me after I got up and got Tito his refill.
We're due at the inlaws at noon. We get to spend the day with them, because I'm not a mom deserving of my OWN day. I love my MIL, but yeah, I'm bitter.
I don't even want anything for Mother's Day other than not having to go out there.
At least I've got my Power Panties on.
It's gonna be a faaaaaaabulous day.
I think I'll watch THIS CLIP several times before I leave.
It's one of my favorites. I imagine the serious brother as Pie and the screw-up as Tito.
Thus Spake Penny Karma, aka the F-Bomb Mom at 8:53 AM
Saturday, May 12, 2007
Yeah, it's a little late, but I just had to say this.
Ok, seriously - whose brainchild was the theme of Bee Gees Night??
Did anybody else think the whole idea was a complete disaster from the get-go? Because, not to sound like Simon, but to me, anyone other than the Bee Gees singing a Bee Gees song just sounds like reeeeeeeeally bad karaoke.
Like can't you just imagine some drunk co-worker guy from Payroll at the office Christmas Party? You just saw him openly making out with the equally-drunk Receptionist on the dance floor and now he suddenly feels the overwhelming urge to start Jive Talkin' in front of everyone. We've all been there.
C'mon. Stayin' Alive was just weird. It had nothing to do with the way Lakeisha sang it, it wouldn't have mattered who sang it. It was just weird, uncomfortable and awkward. Beyond weird, really. Bordering on bizarre.
The other songs were less weird, but I think it must be quite difficult to put your own unique "spin" on a Bee Gees song. Blake tried, and I actually liked that he made it so different that it almost sounded like a kinda cool remix. And I thought Jordin was good with Woman In Love, which I don't really think of as a Bee Gees song, but Randy didn't like it. He said it was "pitchy." If I had any alcohol in this house, I'd create a new drinking game and do a shot every time Randy or Paula said the word "pitchy." And drink twice when Simon says "cabaret."
I can't imagine looking at the list of possible song choices and finding one Bee Gees song I would even want to attempt to sing in front of people. At least not sober. Did the judges want the individual contestants to try to replicate the sound of three grown men singing in falsetto? Because they pretty much bashed everyone but Jordin. What were they hoping to hear? It's not the same as Motown Night or Tony Bennett Night. Seventies Disco Night would have worked better, I think, but they've already done that, I think.
Anyway, all I can say is, Thank God we weren't subjected to Sanjaya's rendition of "More Than A Woman."
Am I the only one who was thinking Barry Gibb Talk Show the entire time??
Thus Spake Penny Karma, aka the F-Bomb Mom at 8:17 AM
Tuesday, May 08, 2007
I love to read News of The Weird. Call it schadenfreude, but I enjoy reading about when something weird, embarrassing, or unimaginable happens to someone other than myself. Ok, yes, it's sad when the people do something stupid that kills them, but sometimes you just can't believe the level of stupidity required to do these things.
One of my favorite Darwin Award Honorable Mentions is Lawn Chair Larry:
(1982, California) Larry Walters of Los Angeles is one of the few to contend for the Darwin Awards and live to tell the tale. "I have fulfilled my 20-year dream," said Walters, a former truck driver for a company that makes TV commercials. "I'm staying on the ground. I've proved the thing works."
Larry's boyhood dream was to fly. But fates conspired to keep him from his dream. He joined the Air Force, but his poor eyesight disqualified him from the job of pilot. After he was discharged from the military, he sat in his backyard watching jets fly overhead.
He hatched his weather balloon scheme while sitting outside in his "extremely comfortable" Sears lawnchair. He purchased 45 weather balloons from an Army-Navy surplus store, tied them to his tethered lawnchair dubbed the Inspiration I, and filled the 4' diameter balloons with helium. Then he strapped himself into his lawnchair with some sandwiches, Miller Lite, and a pellet gun. He figured he would pop a few of the many balloons when it was time to descend.
Larry's plan was to sever the anchor and lazily float up to a height of about 30 feet above his back yard, where he would enjoy a few hours of flight before coming back down. But things didn't work out quite as Larry planned.
When his friends cut the cord anchoring the lawnchair to his Jeep, he did not float lazily up to 30 feet. Instead, he streaked into the LA sky as if shot from a cannon, pulled by the lift of 42 helium balloons holding 33 cubic feet of helium each. He didn't level off at 100 feet, nor did he level off at 1000 feet. After climbing and climbing, he leveled off at 16,000 feet.
At that height he felt he couldn't risk shooting any of the balloons, lest he unbalance the load and really find himself in trouble. So he stayed there, drifting cold and frightened with his beer and sandwiches, for more than 14 hours. He crossed the primary approach corridor of LAX, where Trans World Airlines and Delta Airlines pilots radioed in reports of the strange sight.
Eventually he gathered the nerve to shoot a few balloons, and slowly descended. The hanging tethers tangled and caught in a power line, blacking out a Long Beach neighborhood for 20 minutes. Larry climbed to safety, where he was arrested by waiting members of the LAPD. As he was led away in handcuffs, a reporter dispatched to cover the daring rescue asked him why he had done it. Larry replied nonchalantly, "A man can't just sit around."
The Federal Aviation Administration was not amused. Safety Inspector Neal Savoy said, "We know he broke some part of the Federal Aviation Act, and as soon as we decide which part it is, a charge will be filed."
A man can't just sit around. I love that.
I also love that they don't know exactly what law he's violated, but they're darn well gonna come up with something.
This is where those dumb laws come from.
Fast forward to last week when I read the following headline and immediately felt an overwhelming sense of deja vu:
Firefighters free toddler after he gets toilet seat stuck on his head
Updated: 9:00 p.m. CT April 25, 2007
LONDON - British firefighters said Wednesday they came to a boy's rescue after he got a toilet seat stuck on his head.
The toddler, 2 1/2, and his mother walked into a fire station in Braintree, Essex, on Tuesday saying the boy had put his head through a small trainer seat for the toilet and could not remove it.
"His mum had tried to get it over his head but couldn't budge it, so she walked him down here and asked us to have a look at it, and we went to work and we managed to get it off in no time," firefighter Chris Cox said.
"We simply put some dishwashing liquid on his head and ears and it slid off nice as pie."
He said the boy had been "very brave" and "toddled away as happy as can be" after his ordeal ended.
Copyright 2007 Reuters Limited.
I'm thinking brains do not grow on trees in the town of Braintree.
Now, allow me to assume you haven't committed my entire blog to memory and direct your attention to this entry from June 14th of last year. I'll wait.
Have YOU ever had News Of The Weird happen to you?
Here's the news story I WISH would come true. I found this on MSN Money today.
The price of a mom: $138,095
A new report assigns a salary to a stay-at-home mother, based on the jobs she does in a normal week.
By MSN Money staff
What's a mom worth?
According to one new report, $138,095 a year.
That's the figure in a report by Salary.com, which calculates the wages that would have been paid a stay-at-home mom in 2007 if she were compensated for all the elements of her "job." That total is up 3% from 2006's salary of $134,121.
Moms who have jobs outside the house would earn another $85,939 for their mothering work, beyond what they bring home in existing salary.
The final salary was calculated by weighting the salaries and hours worked in each role.
Isn't that interesting? Right now, I'm in my damn jammies writing about toilet seats stuck on kids' heads and cereal by the handful out of the box.
Waiting for my paycheck to arrive.
So maybe a man can't just sit around, but apparently a woman can.
Thus Spake Penny Karma, aka the F-Bomb Mom at 9:52 AM
Sunday, May 06, 2007
Pie: Hey, Mom?
Me: Yeah, buddy?
Pie: Am I allowed to say "What the hell?"
Me: I would prefer that you didn't. It's kinduva grownups-only thing to say. It's rather inappropriate for a five-year-old like you.
Pie: But I can still say "Friggin", right?
Me: Um, I guess...
Pie: Well then, I can hardly wait until I'm old enough to say "FRIGGIN HELL!!"
Friday, May 04, 2007
I'm pretty sure I'm addicted to these goofy quizzes.
|You Are 56% Lady|
You're part lady, part modern woman.
Etiquette is important to you, but you brush aside rules that are outdated or silly.
|Your Boobies' Names Are...|
Your Girl Parts Are Named:
And, since I'm only 56% Lady...
|Your Penis Name Is...|
Thus Spake Penny Karma, aka the F-Bomb Mom at 8:46 AM
Tuesday, May 01, 2007
Last Thursday evening, Beebie had a strings concert at her school.
Tito didn't like it because he had to be quiet.
Personally, I liked it because you can always count on Beeb's flamboyant (yet straight, allegedly) music teacher to regale us all with his clever costumes. Remember Brokeback Mountain, the Musical? Here's a flashback from last year.
This time he wore a Phantom of the Opera cape and a mask that looked like an athletic supporter/protective cup on his head.
The highlight, however, was when R stealthily snapped a pic of Stella. Have I mentioned how much I love this man for his endless contributions to my blog?
Isn't she pointy? That's the "I just sniffed some bad meat" expression I was telling you about. Just don't ever confuse Stella with Anti-Stella. Anti-Stella kicks ass. (Ass is a funny word. Just ask her kids.)
Now ask me where I got this bruise.
We knew we were going to miss Surivior because of the strings concert, so we set it up to tape. Then we got home in time for the very very end of it, and I didn't want to know what the final vote was, so when Beeb turned the TV in the living room to CBS and I heard the words "Three votes Alex, three votes Mookie..." I ran out of the room as fast as I could so I wouldn't hear.
In my haste, I whacked my arm against the hook that sticks out of the doorway. But it's a lot more fun to tell people that I burned my husband's toast.
Friday R was off all day so we went to the newest mall in the area to check out Cabela's. The boys call it The Dead Animal Place. At Books-A-Million, we pre-ordered Harry Potter for about $20 and then we went to Olde Town St. Charles to see if we could find a rugby shirt with the flag of my ancestors at Thistle and Clover. I found this kickass Scotland shirt but it was waaaay too small (smaller than the amount of "too small" buxom girls like me can get away with) so I left empty-handed and broken-hearted.
Then when I got home I got a package containing a new product called, of all things, Poo-Pourri! You know how sometimes I giggle about the silly Google searches that lead people to my blog? Some recent viewers searched the following phrases:
block cheddar pictures (this was someone from HEB in San Antonio)
FIL ALDI (this was someone from NASA, which scares me)
Napoleon the Farter (someone in Dublin)
my breasts "I was an early bloomer" (someone at University of South Dakota)
and finally, Smoking Panty Poop (someone in the UK)
Well, Suzy found me by searching the word Poo-Pourri, which would bring someone to the post where I explain my Power Panties (see the Cliff's Notes in the sidebar). She makes this stuff called Poo-Pourri, and you can read all about it if you click HERE. Get the poop, so to speak.
She asked me if I'd be interested in trying some and letting you all know what I thought of it, and naturally I said SURE! So it arrived on Friday. And look how cute it's packaged!
All you do is spray a little of it in the actual potty prior to pooping, and then when you flush, the stank goes down with the offending poop and left behind is a very pleasant aroma. It's kinda citrusy without smelling like that icky synthetic citrus scent. And what I like best about it is that it LASTS.
I was really impressed by this product and I would certainly recommend it. Even for the foulest poopers. And believe me, R and I put it to the test (Mexican Buffet. 'Nuff said.). I will be giving some Poo-Pourri away in a future contest. Stay tuned!
Friday evening we went to the Super Hero thing at the Science Center.
It was a cool way to illustrate various scientific concepts, such as -
and Prosthetic Limbs.
Beebie climbed the Spiderman wall
so did Pie
and R got all the way to the top.
R's got a great butt. I know that's what you were thinking just now.
Tito and I didn't do the wall. He was too little and I really don't relish the thought of people staring at my ass and wondering why there's not a movie showing on it.
Then we saw Mark Twain at Ted Drewes. See him?
Saturday I took the stuff in the trunk to Goodwill and we took a million things back to the library. There are now only five library items in the house that I can't find. Not too bad.
Beebie and Pie had been nagging me for a week to teach them how to knit. I told them I would teach them after Beeb finished reading the sixth Harry Potter book. And the girl busted a nut and finished it before I was really ready, but whatever.
I got a Learn To Knit DVD at the library just to give them some visuals, and I got two sets of aluminum needles in different colors so I could show them how the stitches move from one needle to the other. I put a lot of thought into this, knowing full well that these children have the attention span of fruit flies and I would hold their interest for about thirty seconds before they asked me to think of something else for them to do.
Knitting 101 didn't go over well at my house, so I watched baseball and knit in bed until R called to tell me that he had learned his schedule for the following week. He got moved to a different department so we knew his hours might change. There was some speculation that he might be off on Saturdays from now on. I could certainly live with that, although I would miss having a mid-week day off with him. Either way was fine.
He got the suckiest possible shift. He has to work 10am to 9pm. And he's off on Wednesday, but he still has to work Saturdays. Eleven hours of people yelling at you for stuff that's really not your fault.
I wish I could work somewhere so he wouldn't have to go back there. It sucks so bad. I would do anything to get R out of that job. But the sad thing is that it pays better than anything I could get, so he takes it on the chin and puts up with it. Then the poor man comes home to the freakin' Ape Shack. I feel just awful for him.
Also on Saturday, I tackled The Linen Closet.
I forgot to take a Before pic, so here's the After.
For the Before, try to imagine the contents of THIS BAG crammed inside the closet along with everything else you see.
The continuing tally of stuff I've gotten rid of (if you're keeping track at home):
Two pack n' plays
Two car seats
A broken lawnmower
A diaper bag
6 trash bags of clothes and toys
Various random incomplete sheet sets
Sunday we went to the Irish Festival of Music and Dance in Carbondale, Illinois. At the entrance to the bridge from Missouri to Illinois via the charming town of Chester, we saw, of all things, a dead armadillo! I'm pretty sure the Northward Migration of the Armadillo is a sign of the Apolcalypse.
Chester, Illinois is the home of the Creator of Popeye.
Here's the aforementioned bridge. It would have been quite something had the armadillo actually made it across. I'm assuming he was looking for a bridge since armadillos can't swim. I mean, can they? I have no idea.
Lewis and Clark apparently did something historically significant here too.
So here's a pic from the Irish Festival. Pie is enjoying the rich Irish tradition of hogging playground equipment.
In spite of the fact that we spent about five hours in the car, a good time was had by all.
And for today's project, I cleaned the refrigerator.
PLUS, here's my latest project. I'm kinda proud of this. THIS is why I'm the Evil Genius with the Heart of Gold.
Remember the crocheted penis I showed you a few days ago? Well, I came up with something cool.
The Dong-A-Long. Link is NSFW, FYI.
I saw this crocheted penis pattern on one of my favorite craft sites, The Anticraft.
And I wanted one. But, alas, I don't crochet.
So I asked my extremely creative Knittyboard friends if someone would make me one. And the idea took on a life of its own.
People offered to send me Beanises with FunFur pubes. Beanises with realistically misshapen balls. Beaded Beanises with genital warts. Self-striping Beanises. It looked as though I was going to receive a truckload of Beanises. Now, not to sound cocky, I'm a pretty fun gal. But I had no idea what I was going to do with so darn many Beanises.
I thought about it a long, looong while, and I concluded that maybe it would be nice to do something good with all these Beanises. Because otherwise, how am I going to explain them to my kids?
So I'll stop beating about the bush. Here's what I'm gonna do. I'm hosting a Dong-A-long which will benefit The Prostate Cancer Research Institute.
It seems Breast Cancer gets a lot of attention, and rightly so. Obviously I'm not saying it shouldn't. But ladies, we should also remember the guys. They're our husbands, boyfriends, brothers, dads, and friends. Apart from skin cancer, prostate cancer is the most common cancer among men. ALL men are at risk for prostate cancer, and the risk increases with age.
The American Cancer Society estimates that there will be about 218,890 new cases of prostate cancer in the United States in 2007. About 27,050 men will die of this disease. Prostate cancer is the second leading cause of cancer death in men. Lung cancer is the first. While 1 man in 6 will get prostate cancer during his lifetime, only 1 man in 34 will die of this disease. The death rate for prostate cancer is going down, and thanks in part to the efforts of research teams, the disease is being found earlier as well.
I don't want to in any way make light of a serious topic, but it seemed a logical fit - crocheted penises/accessories for Prostate Cancer Research. And so began the Dong-A-Long.
Anyone who would like to participate may contribute a finished Beanis which will then be auctioned off (details forthcumming). The proceeds from the sale will then be donated to this charity.
And if you don't crochet, you're welcome to whip out a Banana Hammock or a Weenie Warmer instead.
I'm such a fiendishly clever humanitarian.
Thus Spake Penny Karma, aka the F-Bomb Mom at 9:09 AM