Forget "post racial"...

Wouldn't it be wonderful if instead of sorting people by race we typed them by "asshole" or "not an asshole"?

Think of how fun census forms would be going forward.  And jury selections. And cities that still institute student busing.

Get me central casting!

If a new movie were to be made about the Boston Strangler (in light of new evidence), it better star Michael Imperioli.





Carry on...

Do we blame gay marriage for this?

There is a penis storm coming!  Lock up your wives and blindfold the children...

This is me, circa 1993

Or last Thursday...

I'm such a trendsetter.  It's hard being me.

What I'm up to...

 Bite off more than you can chew.  

You can always spit it out on the floor if you decide you don’t like it. 

I've been biting, chewing and spitting a lot lately.  Thanks for checking in.

Marriage Truth

This is so true that it's not even funny.  It is.  But it's not.

A Shitty Problem

The Spouse will not let me get one of these:



I think they are hilarious and practical.  A two-fer, if you will.  I love two-fers.  Alas, The Spouse does not want us to be "those people" in the neighborhood.  My rebuttal is that we are indeed "those people" and the sooner we let our freak flag fly, the better for all.

Anyhoo, our neighbors do not have a fenced backyard.  They walk their dogs on a leash, but the dogs have been known to forget where the boundary is on our side lawn and do their business.  Eventually, it gets picked up, mostly on (their) lawn mowing days.  Still, it's aggravating when I'm trying to get my lady-time gardening accomplished and there is a huge pile of shit in my way (they are big dogs).  I think the sign could be an effective passive-aggressive way to let them know that I am onto them.  At the very least, I think this would work:



It runs in the family.  My mom got into an argument at an estate sale earlier this year because a woman didn't pick up after her dog. It culminated in my mother yelling, "BITCH!!" across the lawn after the woman refused to clean up after her dog.  This would be a great story about our family legacy of fighting injustice, except that 7 year old Batman was standing right next to her at the time, wondering if Mimi was going to come to blows with a stranger.  I kindly explained to Mom that my intolerance for assholes has only been curbed by my not wanting to frighten my kids and could she try to remember that for next time?

A campaign has started in the UK (United Kingdom, not University of Kentucky) to encourage owners to pick up after their pooches.  The poster (below) is disgusting and pointed and I think it's excellent.  Hope it works.

RIP

Driving home last week, my jaw literally dropped when I heard the news that James Gandofini passed away.  I was sure it was an internet hoax.  Sadly, it was not.

I know he wasn't responsible for Tony Soprano's lines (there are writers, after all), but he delivered them wonderfully.  Today, I leave you with one of my favorites:

"You know my feelings: Every day is a gift.  It's just, does it have to be a pair of socks?"

Word.

RIP

Oops...

Paula Dean is really red in the face over her unfortunate choice of words.

Bad pun, sorry.  Couldn't resist.

And she just lost her job...

Meanwhile, at the Paula Dean Academy, in Ohio, afro puffs and braids are banned:



http://living.msn.com/family-parenting/the-family-room-blog-post?post=d04c8e5a-0910-4343-8d5f-d8c6cce0a24e

I'm not making this up, people!  If someone banned my ponytail, I would be outraged.  How is this possibly ok?

Family Room

At the home inspection:



Before:



Primer:



Terrible "after" shot:



I have since put the room back together.  The wall to the left is still covered with ripped wallpaper and the wall to the right needs to be painted to match the new paint.  It's not perfect, but it's a heck of a lot brighter than it was a week ago!

Oh Hell NO!

The Spouse thinks that we have enough junk in our house at the moment and I need to focus on downsizing vs. acquiring.

Say what?

Not everything that is in our house will stay in our house.  Some things are in the wrong rooms.  Some things need a coat of paint or an adjustment to be just perfect.  Some things are treasures that I cannot/will not get rid of.  Some things are crap that I need to get rid of.

I have an eye for stuff but not an eye for design.  I can see the possibilities, I just can't pull the room together.   I realized my design deficiency in college, when other girls had awesome dorm rooms decorated with Guess ads and Monet posters.  I had the same things, but not the same eye for pulling them together.  Where others created cozy spots, I created chaos.

It will be years until Wayne Manor is "done".  It needs some serious repairs until we can begin to address some of the more cosmetic things.  Until then, we're going to have a house filled with more junk than we can handle.

The one that got away...

I am going to kick myself for not buying this.



I walked away.  Damn!

Addiction

I'm addicted.  I really truly am.  Not in a "oh, isn't this cute" way, but in a real honest-to-goodness "I need an intervention and 12 step program" way.

I am addicted to estate sales.  In a major way.

I grew up being drug to thrift shops, antique stores, yard sales, and stopping to look at random junk on the side of the road.  My house is filled with stuff that my Granddad, Nana, mom, or some shirt tail cousin found and decided was a treasure.  Now that I am grown, I take the Dynamic Duo along with me on my treasure hunting.  They hate being there, but they hate being left behind even more.  After all, they never know what their ADD-prone mother is going to find.

The Spouse is not amused by this turn of events.  He's not surprised, but he's not happy about it either.  Not the part that I take the kids along with me - nope, he's fine with that.  He's not thrilled about the crap I bring home.

I did not start Pinning my finds until I was well within the throes of this disease, but here are some of my more recent finds:

Drop leaf table with drawer:


It cleaned up nicely and has none of the dust or scratches that you see here:


This tufted ottoman:



Robin has already succeeded in loosening one of the buttons.  I really love it, but am not in love with it in my living room.  (All of these photos are the "scouting" photos I copied.  I don't have any pictures of them in my house.)

Spode Blue Room Collection Plates:



These were not needed, but I thought they would look really cool hanging in the kitchen, dining room, or butler's pantry.  Of course, they are not yet hung and still sitting in a box.

K.P. Mobler bookcase:



This was really an amazing find, and a steal of a deal.  However, in transport, one of the screws went missing.  It may or may not be in my living sofa somewhere.  It's huge and doesn't quite fit into my house.  But it's a famous maker, great lines, and since a screw is missing, it's not exactly in mint condition.  I should probably sell it, but am still deciding...

In another post, I will post some things that were really cool but I passed on due to being out of my budget or not at all right for my house.  In the meantime, please stage an intervention.

Jennifer or Jessica?  You decide.

There's really no point to this post.  Carry on.

Vs

Maternity fashion done right:



When your feet are this swollen, wear flip flops - or at least a larger size.  This looks painful!



Haters gonna hate...

Can I have a refund, please?

Most days, I'm pretty happy with my decision not to attend law school.

Today is one of those days.

Who's up for a swim?

The Wayne Swamp is open for business.

Standing to applaud Denise Richards

Yes, it's ridiculous that I post sporadically at best.  But I felt obligated to some in and give another public shout out to Denise Richards.  Not my favorite Bond girl, but by far my favorite Hollywood mother.

Denise has once again stepped in to take care of Charlie Sheen's twins.  Their mother seems to have disappeared or something.  Thank God that they have a mature responsible person in their lives to take care of them.

I'm not a Denise Richards lover, but I respect the woman for stepping in to a bad situation and helping where she can.

I don't know WTF is wrong with people, WRT the Boston Marathon.  Seriously, W. T. F.

Hi ho, hi ho, it's off to work I go...

Yesterday was Career Day at Batman's school. I signed up to speak and totally rocked it, which is to say that I wasn't booed and heckled. There were three sessions, but I only had enough students interested in order to do two sessions. Obvs, the kids did NOT know how awesome I - and therefore my career - am. 

The kids got to sign up for their sessions, and the other options were zoo keeper (bringing a ferret and alligator), Realtor (handed out large American flags), math teacher (I was more popular than the math teacher), helicopter pilot, coast guard, and martial arts instructor. Imagine my surprise when my kid walked into the second session. He was completely surprised that I was there. I didn't say anything, because I didn't want him to feel guilty if he didn't sign up for my session, and I didn't want to be a distraction and for him to be all fidgety in the other sessions. 

My lovely minion created a poster board of Congress, its chambers, and the White House and she wrote a mock bill about creating a national flavor of ice cream. Different kids got to be my client, Members of Congress and the Senate, and the President. One of the counselors emailed me today to tell me that two kids stopped in to tell her this morning that they wanted to be lobbyists, but one might want to be the President instead.

My kid wants to be a helicopter pilot, but maybe a lobbyist when he retires from the Air Force if he decides he doesn't want to be a professional karate guy.  I didn't have the heart to tell him that there is only one Chuck Norris.

He wishes he were a little bit taller, wishes he were a baller...

Ordinarily, I would be more than a bit miffed that my frenemy, Kim Jong-un, invited Dennis Rodman to visit him in North Korea and not me.



However, I'm busy recovering from my recent stay at hospital with Her Royal Highness - we've had a nasty stomach virus.  And just as I'm running for Pope...  I think it's a conspiracy to keep the Church from having an American Pope.

But, inquiring minds want to know, how big of a box do you think Kim is standing on in the above photo? Rodman's official height (per Wikipedia) is 6'7".

A Shout Out

My friend Alison started a blog to write all about her love of running.  Why are we friends, you ask?  In all honestly, I don't know.  

• She runs. I run after my kids and/or if someone is chasing me.  
• She's a Mizzou fan. I married into the Cult of the Jayhawk.  
• She gets to buy adorable girl clothes and I'm stuck in boy town. (She does have one boy, but he's outnumbered by his sisters.)  

Despite all this, I like her.

If you want to cyber stalk Alison, here's the link:  Http://Runthatbooty.blogspot.com

I plan to follow along from the safety and comfort of my couch.  Probably with a cookie in hand.

Sequestration

Please note:

When sequestration takes effect, the mini-industry known as Wayne Manor will be forced to make furloughs.  The following will be laid off:

- Nelly and her crew of three.
- Rolando and his assistant
- The hardscaping crew will not be retained for our $40,000 project.
- Solange will be cut back to 4 days per week.

While these cuts are not huge on a national scale, I have to think that Nelly, Rolando, Solange, the landscapers and the people they employ will think otherwise.

VD

Robin was home sick on Friday. We were cuddled on the couch watching tv when a jewelry commercial came on. He asked me if I liked a ring and I said yes, it’s so pretty. 


He said if he has enough money in his allowance he would buy it. I asked if it would be a Valentine’s Day present for me. He said no, for Kristina. I said, Kristina!?! Why not mommy? He said that she was the best girl in his class.

Great. Four years old and he's already tossing me to the side for some cute girl.

Happy VD, bitches!