Dear Bret Michaels,

Please stop sucking women’s faces off.  It’s gross, OK?  I’ve put up with this human vacuum action for 3 seasons of Rock of Love now, and it seems to be getting worse and worse each season.  As if it’s not bad enough to listen to you talk about “feeling it in your soul” and watch you “connect” with women faster than I brush my teeth.  I started watching your show because I was truly a fan.  Back in the day, I supported your love of eyeliner and addiction to Aquanet.  I defended your tight pleather pants as artistic expression and when you sang “Every Rose has its Thorn” my belief that you were a true romantic was proven true.  When you showed up again…as a has-been, extension-wearing fool in a cowboy hat, I again defended you.  I can no longer do this.  You tease me with the possibility of being a real man by (eventually) dismissing the women who keep the silicone industry in business.  You make me think that maybe, just maybe, there’s a decent man inside those weird muscle shirts and sparkly jackets.   You almost choose a semi-normal woman as your “rock of love.” (whiny and full of mood swings, but given the competition….) But then…after way too many rounds with the human vacuum, you choose the girl with the immobile forehead.  The one whose visits to the doctor for Botox injections can only be rivaled by her visits to the Penthouse studios.  It’s ridiculous. I’m not sure what weight I pull in your decisions, but I’m sure I can’t be the only one who is sick and tired of watching you stick those damn lips out, slowly insert your tongue into more mouths than I ever care to be around, and suck the life out of these attention seeking whores.  

Rock on,

Amanda

 

P.S…I love this commercial.  You should do something more like this…

Don’t call it a comeback…

So I’ve been hibernating for the winter (or my laptop has been broken and I’ve been really REALLY stressed and overwhelmed…hibernating sounds better), and I thought it fit to welcome myself back with a classic LL Cool J lyric.  Cause I’m cool like that.

I’m still really REALLY stressed and overwhelmed…words cannot even describe it.  But my laptop has returned from it’s cross country repair voyage, so there’s really no reason for me not to blog any longer.  In fact…I think I really need the therapy.  Maybe that’s exactly why I’m feeling this way…I haven’t had the creative outlet and I’m all pent up.  Kinda like when someone’s really cranky and people say “she needs to get laid.”  Well, apparently I need to get blogged.  So here I am.  With my pent up frustrations and crankiness will undoubtedly come lots of snarky, smart-ass posts and musings.  The best kind of therapy, indeed.

The first annual “Oh hell no” list of Christmas decor

As anyone who knows me knows…I am a total snob when it comes to outdoor Christmas decorations.  Don’t get me wrong…I’m not a Scrooge.  Very far from it, in fact.  I LOVE the holidays, and there’s nothing I love more than a beautifully decorated home.  I’m pretty particular about my taste for all decor, but I don’t really spend too much time getting all worked up over what people do inside their houses.  I don’t have to see that.  But I do have to see what’s outside.  And people…some of it is just uncalled for.  So, for the benefit of my thousands tens of readers…I present to you my (first) annual “Oh hell no” list. 

  1. First and foremost…inflatable shit is ridiculous.  Now, if you happen to own a car lot and you want to generate some 8\' HOW T/ GRINCH STOLE X-MAS LAWN INFLATABLE $40.0 Pictures, Images and Photosholiday sales by having a giant waving Santa on top of your showroom…go for it.  But if you’re living in the middle of suburbia, there is absolutely no reason for having anything that blows up in your yard.  Sadly, these stupid things keep gaining popularity, and there are now multiple sub-groups of horrible inflatable crap.  The worst of the worst  are the ginormous cartoon characters. You know you’ve seen them…the 15 foot tall Grinch, Bart Simpson sitting on a stack of presents, Mickey Mouse dressed as Santa.  Blech.  What possesses people to think they look good?  Now, I realize that many people obviously like them, and if that’s you…please do me a favor.  If you must have the shit, at least keep it inflated.  Nothing gives me the Christmas chills like a giant lump of uninflated nonsense on someone’s front yard at two in the afternoon.  What the hell is that???
  2. Christmas Lights.  I love lights.  But if you’re going to choose to have Christmas Lights Pictures, Images and Photoslights…please choose a f’in theme and stick with it.  White lights or colored?  Not both.  Big bulbs or small?  Consistently on or blinking?  Nothing (well, aside from those things already mentioned in #1) makes me more irritated than a house that has continuously illuminated colored lights…except for that one blue string mixed in there that’s blinking in a pattern that is sure to induce a seizure in someone.  I just don’t understand how someone can stand back after finishing their day of decorating, and look at that one obnoxious bit of blinking madness and think “That looks fabulous.”  Trust me, I know what a pain in the ass hanging lights is.  I know you don’t want to redo it.  But that’s why you test the lights.  If 9 out of 10 strands are doing the same thing…for God’s sake, take that last one out
  3. Along the same lines…Christmas lights are just that.  Christmas lights.  Not February lights.  Not July lights.  Take the shit down.  Please.  And if you just can’t, for whatever reason, take them down…at least turn them on!  I hate driving down the street in September and seeing nasty old icicle lights hanging from someone’s awning.  Tasteless.
  4. Themes.  Pick one.  Are you going tasteful and classy…white lights and swags on the windows?  Are you going whimsical Santas?  Or maybe you’re more conservative and go for the religious theme?  Even within my strict rules…there is room for everyone.  As long as you pick a genre and go with it.  Don’t have your inflatable Snoopy in a sled smack up against your illuminated nativity scene.  Or block the view of the simple white candles in your windows with a snow globe that sings Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree. 
  5. Animated reindeer.  You know what I’m talking about.  Those lit-up things (some are white wire, others are brown twiggy lights Pictures, Images and Photosthings) that people put in their yard with the moving heads.  I don’t actually mind the idea of them…as long as they aren’t moving.  You aren’t fooling anyone.  We know those reindeer aren’t actually grazing on your grass or leaping into the sky.   And when they get old and don’t move as well as they did when you bought them…they just look spazzy and weird. 
  6. LED Crap.  I’m not actually sure what this type of decoration is really called.  Is it hologram?  LED?  It’s a relatively new thing, and until I know for sure what it’s called I’m just going to call it fucking ugly.  These things take tasteless lights to a whole new level.  Even worse is when they’re animated.  Animated things in general are just bad.   Just in case you don’t know what I’m talking about…
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  8. Candy canes.  Candy canes are meant to be small, sugary, minty pieces of heaven that you eat.  Not giant plastic stakes that you place along your walkway in a lame attempt to decorate.   Enough said.

I honestly could go on forever.  I told y’all…I’m a total snob when it comes to this.  My snobbery has lead to many arguments with my kids throughout the years, but I’ve stood my ground and my efforts are beginning to pay off.  In fact, just last year while at WalMart (looking for simple, tasteful white lights), Boog saw a couple looking at the obnoxious inflatable shit and said “Why do they want that? Those are ugly!”  Normally, I’d be embarrassed by his lack of social etiquette and I’d have a talk with him about the art of biting your tongue.  But in this case, I let it go.  His wife will thank me for it later. 

Although, I do have to finish this off by saying that if you’re going to go tacky…then go tacky.  The only time I find blinking lights, inflatable eyesores, and a path of plastic candle sticks circa 1974 leading to a beautifully illuminated nativity next to the Grinch is when it’s all there.  In all it’s shameless glory.  I have many fond memories as a kid of driving around looking at the “crazy houses” with my family, and my kids love it just as much as me.  So if you’re gonna go big…dammit, do it right. 

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***sorry to anyone this offended.  You’re entitled to your taste (yes, I’m talking to you, Julie) and I’m entitled to my opinion.  Happy decorating everyone!!!

He’ll be so proud

While tucking Drama in tonight, we heard one of Snoop’s many crazy bedtime story voices booming from Boog’s room.  Drama and I looked at each other and I asked her if her daddy was always that silly. 

Drama:  Of course he was! I know why, too.

Me:  Why is that?

Drama:  ‘Cause we got him the alcohol for Christmas and he drank it all.

~I feel the need to clarify that we bought him a bottle of his favorite scotch.  Last Christmas.  Which he still hasn’t finished.~

Me:  No, I don’t think that’s it.  I think he’s just a goofball.

Drama:  (whispering) I think he’s a goofball that stays awake all night painting his toenails and drinking all the alcohol.

So does this mean when they talk about families at school, and one kid stands up and says “My daddy’s a fireman” and another stands up and says “My mommy’s a teacher,” Drama is going to stand up and say “My daddy’s an alcoholic tranny?”

In a nutshell…

I’m a shitty blogger.  My BFFLMNOP informed me, not so subtly, that it’s been ridiculously long since I blogged and ya know what?  It has been.  Oh well…my diary, my rules I suppose. 

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Boog has made a new friend.  S’s family moved in next door in August, and I haven’t exactly gone out of my way to meet them.  For one, I have NEVER seen an adult at that house.  Allegedly there are a mother and father, but I’ve never seen them.  I have seen about 432 children, though…ranging from the goth-whore 16 yr old to the nerdy 13 year old boy to the newly befriended S.  Boog was playing in the backyard yesterday when I looked out and saw him standing on the cross piece of the fence talking to S, who was standing on the other side.  They stood like that…teetering on 2 by 4’s…for over half an hour before deciding to go do some sidewalk chalk out front.  No biggie…  Then after about 30 minutes of that, they came in the front door.  I asked S if her parents knew she was over here, and she told me “I go places all the time…they don’t care.”  I thought this was a little odd…given that she is SEVEN, but whatever.  They played for 5 minutes before I politely kicked her back to her house so we could have dinner.  Boog spent the rest of the night whining about how he needed to go play with her.  Funny how quickly 6 and 7 year olds can become best buddies.  So anyway…this morning I took off for a morning/afternoon of pampering (in the form of a rockin’ new hair color) and errands.  While I was gone, S came over to play.  For FIVE HOURS.  I have never met her parents.  I have never seen her parents.  Her parents have never met us.  And they, apparently, don’t have a problem with her entering our house and staying all damn day.  Snoop offered her lunch, and she replied that she doesn’t usually eat lunch.  Weird.  She left right before I got home, and Boog proceeded to whine about wanting to go to her house.  About 20 minutes later, I went over to her house with Boog (long story short…sticky fingers took off with one of our kids’ souvenirs from the Bahamas) and was a little concerned when she answered the door and behind her all I could see was a dark house with a TV on.  Given that there are normally a slew of loud kids outside, it seemed weird that it was so quiet.  We got home and I mentioned to Snoop that it looked like she was home alone and Boog said that S told him she’s home alone a lot.  Wtf??? Again, I say…she is SEVEN YEARS OLD!  I find this very odd…and very worrisome.  I’m going to have to keep my concerned adult eyeballs peeled for this situation.  In addition to finding out that S is on her own quite a bit, I have also learned that she is a predator.  My boy…my sweet innocent Booger…had his first kiss today.  Actually, he had his first five.  Drama, being the sweet little nark that she is, told me all the details.  And I am not  OK with this.  I really didn’t think I was going to have to have the “you’re too young to be kissing” talk at six.  I’m really, really bothered by this.  I get that they’re going to have “girlfriends” and “boyfriends” at this age…and I’m OK with that.  I had them too.  But I wasn’t sneaking off (completely unsupervised by my parents, mind you), and taking innocent boys up to their bedroom to smooch them.  I don’t think I was, anyway…I’m seriously going to have to call my mom about this. 

Damn…i had so much more to say and now I’ve got myself all worked up over my neighborhood hussy.  Grrrr….

Busy me…

I’m back from quite a long bloggy break…I think I need them every once in awhile.  Not that I’m a daily blogger to begin with, but sometimes I feel this guilt like “damn…I should really blog today.”  And thatreally drives me crazy…so I decided to not give into my guilt and just blog when I was good and ready.  In my defense, though…(why am I defending myself??? Did I not just say I wasn’t giving into guilt??? Ugh…) I have been quite busy the last week or so.  When I haven’t been consumed by the never-ending masses of things to complete at work:

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I’ve been baking this

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so that a certain little princess could have the best 5th birthday ever.

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Followed immediately by everything that goes into creating a Happy Halloween for the 2 most awesome kids in the world.

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Followed by lots of good beer with good friends and a slooooow recovery today.  A good portion of today was spent in line for early voting…I didn’t exactly enjoy myself being harassed by local candidates (although the one lady did have candy) for nearly two hours but I did my civic duty, so I feel pretty good bout that.  Now if only I could tune out all of the damn political smear ads and other BS on TV…

I need to talk

It’s 11:41.  Way past my bedtime.  Way too late to be awake considering that my daughter’s 5th b-day party is tomorrow.  But still…I’m up and I’m feeling chatty.  And Snoop?  Well…his snores are keeping me company as he has sunken into the recliner that never lets him go.  So here are my random thoughts…

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I was home from work today.  I have 3 “child involvement” days per year, and decided to take one today to make Drama’s cake.  I realize that isn’t technically what my employer had in mind, but at this point…I don’t give a shit.  I did have lunch with her at her preschool, and spent the entire rest of the day with her, so that constitutes “child involvement” in my book. I spent the day baking and shaping and icing my ass off.  I’d share a pic, but I’m lazy.  There will be one tomorrow I’m sure.  It’s a castle cake, and it rocks. 

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During my baking, I tuned in to a bit of Live with Regis and Kelly.  Kelly Ripa has rubbed me the wrong way since the day she took over the tabloids.  Something about her skinny ass perkiness just bugs the hell out of me.  But today I found myself cracking up at her and it made me mad.  I kept catching myself laughing and relating to what she was saying and thinking “this is someone I could be friends with.” Then I’d get all pissed off at myself…”no, you hate her!”  Dammit…I was very comfortable in my hatred of her and then she has to go and make me laugh.  I don’t like when my preconceived judgements are challenged. 

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Snoop just sat up abruptly in his chair and looked at me and said “What???”  I didn’t say anything.  He always does shit like that when he’s sleeping.  Once I tried to wake him up (for a valid reason, like work or something….not just to be a bitch) and he sat straight up, said “Huh? Make me a sandwich,” and went back to sleep.  Boog seems to have inherited this nonsense…he’ll often talk jibberish to me when I try to wake him and it provides me with hours of giggles.

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I think I need to start a talk show.  I swear…I could write The Soup and Chelsea Lately and I could be BFF.  How cool would it be to work with your best friends, talk about things that amuse you, make people laugh, and be famous?  I need to look into this.  And I’m not talking some local cable TV shit, either.  I want big time.  Maybe I could start as a guest on the Soup or Chelsea and take off as my own thing in a year or so. I’d love that. 

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I hate the economy for many many reasons right now.  The most pressing issue at the time is that I’m sitting here drinking Bud Light.  In a can.  Ick.  I hate cans…I’m a bottle snob.  And Bud Light??? What the hell is that??? I’ll tell you what that is…it’s $10 per 12 pack, and a guarenteed crowd pleaser (when your “crowd” is one friend who brings her own Mike’s Hard Lemonade and her Bud Light loving husband, anyway).  And you know what’s even worse??? I’m starting to actually like it.

Actually, I’m starting to like it too much.  I should probably stop typing before I say something I’ll regret.