Hall of Fame Comments

I cried on the way home just now. It wasn’t because I just dropped my kids off either, because really, I’m way past the point that I cry when I drop them off somewhere. Way past that. Now, I celebrate. I leap for joy. I scream out things like “YIPPEE” and “HOORAY! I get to be alone for once!”

I cried because of some feelings that I was feeling which left me feeling a little feely. Ya know? I wiped my tears, listened to Keith Urban’s “Stupid Boy” (Best Song EVER!!) over and over, cried some more and then pulled in my driveway.

Now I’m home, still feely but not teary. I came in and sat down at my crack pipe computer and started reading the blog that was up on my screen from before I left the house… I’m Quietly Judging You. Much like other bloggers do, I see blogs in various blogrolls and must click on them because their blog names are intriguing. This was one of those moments.

I read this post from that blog and was definitely impressed with her mad take-down skillz of a certain douchebag. I am all for any girl who uses the terms douche, asshat and fucktwat. Because it’s awesome. Anyway, as I got to the comments section and read a particular comment from another blogger I found myself saying, “Wow, that is an awesome reply! That is noteworthy. That is blogtacular!!” Hence, I have now come up with a new addition to my own blog… “The Hall of Fame Comments”. Not only is this a perfect example of how I rip off other people’s shit and make a blog post out of it, but it will also provide linky love to other bloggers. I’m doing my part in this blogosphere, ya know.

Then, I had to poop. And believe it or not, that is hard for me to say because I have a very difficult time imagining celebrities pooping and am embarrassed that I poop, as if I’m the only one in the world who actually poops. Like, does Keith Urban ever use the bathroom after Nicole Kidman has pooped and then run out with his eyes watering and screaming something, “MY GAWD NICOLE! WHAT DID YOU EAT?!” I don’t think so. Nicole doesn’t poop. But, I do. Really.

So there I was pooping and doing what I normally do while pooping. No, not texting this time… I forgot my phone. Instead, I was writing my blog post in my head. And this is the result…

The most notable and awesomest blog comment I have read in recent days…The comment can be found here, in the comments section…duh. But I will provide a direct quote as well…

“That was a Sonny Corleone on his brother-in-law quality beat-down, right there.” by Peter DeWolf

Any comment involving a Godfather part one reference (because it was the best Godfather of course) is much the same as drizzling chocolate over my body and having LL Cool J lick it off. They are one in the same. If you have not watched Godfather part one and do not get the reference then I won’t play with you any more. Gimme my ball back.

And now, a letter to Peter,

Dear Peter,

You are hawt. I love you. Can you come out and play with me? Once I get my ball back from my ex-friends I will share it with you. We can also share Godfather stories and discuss the tragedy of Sunny’s death and how the scene with Don Corleone playing with his grandson in his garden with the orange slice in his mouth still gives me nightmares. We can also trade movie quotes and I will tell you how one of my favorites is “Don’t forget the canolis” right after Clemenza kills that guy in the car out in the country. Look, I’m totally willing to be your friend and overlook the fact that you are Canadian and spell things like favourties and neighbours wrong. I’m a decent American girl, even though I swear a lot and laugh anytime someone says Uranus. (hee hee… someone just said Uranus! DOH! They said it again! tee hee hee). Oh and the fact that you listened to the song “One Night in Bangcock” (tee hee, bangcock… heh) makes me just want to dry hump your leg. I love that song. Oh, and before you go on thinking we are such a perfect match and that you are going to come down to Chicago and steal me away from my husband and we are going to run off to a secret island and make babies, let me just say, I’m not hot, I’m fairly stoopid and I have no idea what Nexus of the Universe means. And I poop. I just really really like the Godfather and thought I could win you over with that.

All My Love,

Angel (DraMa)

Hopefully next week I will be able to write another installment of Hall of Fame Comments.

Now, I must go before my Rockstar Energy drink fully kicks in because at this point my leg is shaking and moving so much that I can barely contain myself in this seat. I need to go run like 20 miles or something.

Tootles.

Safe Texting: Get yourself a text bitch

You know you aren’t supposed to text while driving. But everyone still does… well, those who are text-addicted anyway.

So, while we were on our way into the city on Sunday, hub’s got texted. He was driving.  Here is our converstation….

Me – dude. don’t be textin’ and drivin. you know you can’t multi-task.

Hubs – oh hush. here, type “good for you” for me.

Me – so now I’m your texting bitch? fine. <me typing… g-o-o-d ….>

Hubs – You got that right sistah!

Me – do you want me to put the number 4 or spell f-o-r?

Hubs – just use the #4.

Me – OK. Do you want me to spell out y-o-u or just use the letter u?

Hubs – the letter.

Me - OK. Just checking cuz if I’m the texting bitch I gotta represent you the right way. If you ain’t usein’ the textin’ shortcuts then I won’t, you know when I’m doing your biddin’ dawg. <beating my chest with some phony gangland sign>

(Yeah, we totally like to pretend we are ghetto like that… seriously. Our kids are going to be so fucked up.)

So, if you are going to text and drive, at least have a designated texter with you. The drivers of the world will thank you.

Um…

So, I’m sitting in my recliner watching the Biggest Loser finale, and chowing down on cookies and wine. Gotta love irony. I brushed the crumbs off my chest and then picked up my cell phone to see I have a new text message.

My sister sent me a forwarded text message…. a picture of a penis made out of snow. Ok, lets back up. Number one, I dislike 95% of all email forwards so to get them on my phone pisses me off even more. Number two, a penis? Made out of snow? A snowpenis? Really?

That fucked up a really good alcohol and sugar-induced buzz I was working on.

Now lets switch gears. As I was stuffing my face with Christmas cookies watching people on t.v who dropped gobs and gobs of weight, I saw a preview for the next Dateline featuring this sorry-ass excuse for a man. Know him? If you don’t, try just turning on your television. Unfortunately this jaggoff lives about 30 minutes west of me in another suburb so he has been a very prominent face on local television as well as national. He literally makes me sick to my stomach.

I am not quite sure that the media has ever put the spotlight on a more disingenuous liar in all of my life. Sure, I have convicted him in the court of public opinion. Sure I am going against my “benefit of the doubt” virtues I normally hold to. Sure, he makes my skin crawl and yet I have never met the man in my life. But hey, just watch him talk for 30 seconds. You’ll feel the same way.

I want him to go away. Go far far far far away.

Truth be told, I’m a tad high on the fruits of the vine at the moment…so excuse my oddness… God I love reisling wines.

My evening has been spent, mostly, in peace and alone. It has been a long, long, long time since I have taken a deep breathe. Hubby went out to play his last night of volleyball. The kids are in bed and I didn’t have schoolwork to do. I had planned on catching up on the 14 hours of All My Children that I am behind in. However, I turned the t.v on and got stuck watching the Biggest Loser finale. I only watched one show all season but I kept seeing the latest cast off on the Today Show each week. And, I’m a sucker for makeovers and gigantic transformations. Anyway, for the first time in ages I feel light. Ironic since I just watched people collectively lose about 1000 pounds. I didn’t lose physical weight, so to speak, but I lost a lot of stress weight.

I feel like I have some sort of control back in my life. Per usual, it won’t last long. It never does. Something will come along to replace my temporary euphoria. But, I’ll enjoy this for as long as I can.

Now, I’m off to bed… where my two year old is currently warming my side of the bed… because that is what he does now… comes into my bed. Every. Night.

Day 23 – Black Friday

I may or may not have offended people with my take on Black Friday. In case you missed the harsh words I had to say, allow me to remind you…

“I find the day quite appalling, full of over-consumption and blackened by a

      completely twisted view of a would-be wonderful time of year.”

Well, I still stand by what I said. However, since this blog is a full disclosure blog, I find it necessary to tell you that even though I hold Black Friday in severe discontent, I am not above sending the hubs out into the mayhem! MUWAHAHAHAHA! I spread my evil seeds through him.

I want no part of the chaos and I still feel that it represents a major fault in American Society. But that doesn’t mean I am leaving my home to go live in some commune and wear hemp clothing and use my own poop as fertilizer. I just don’t want to use Black Friday as the gateway to everyone’s Christmas gifts that they don’t need.

Instead, I choose to use Black Friday for more simple things. Like the $25.00 Lexmark printer my hubs bought for me, because I didn’t have a printer. And the $199.00 19″ LCD T.V to replace my 12-year old 13″ Zenith. And the $59.00 lighted garland set with a 9′ long swag, 20″ inch lighted wreath and two 3.5′ lighted pines that will adorn the front door in about 2 days which is normally $100.00… oh and the 3 sets of new LED lights for our Christmas tree that will stay cool and use a fraction of the energy standard light sets use.

Before you start…. wait… STOP CALLING ME NAMES and saying I’m evil for making hubs do this. I did not make him go out there. He wanted to go out on a Black Friday just to say he did it. I was against it at first… until I saw the sale ads. At that point all I did was provide him the items I wanted from those sale ads and gave him a plan of attack.

Then, I read him his last rights and told him that I loved him, always, and that if he were to be trampled to death I would make sure he had a beautiful funeral. Thus, he slept until 4am or so, got up, walked the dog and made it to Wal-Mart by 4:50 to wait in line with approximately 2000 people. He’s a freak.

I stayed in bed… my nice warm bed. Until my sister texted me and woke me up.

Her: “HAPPY BLACK FRIDAY!”

Me: (dreary eyed and pissed) “U suck.”

Her: “Dude, Target is insanely full.”

Me:  “And I’m sleeping. U R nuts 2 b out there.”

Her: (completely ignoring the fact that she woke me up… even though she knew and was laughing her pregnant little ass off at me) “No carts even.”

So, I got up, knowing hubs was already back home, to see what he had gotten. He said it was nuts, fun and funny and that he didn’t get anything, except my lighted garland set. Then he went out the truck and brought in my TV and printer to surprise me. WOOT!

Are you calling me a hypocritical bitch yet? If not, go ahead. We can’t all be perfect. I still shop resale stores, I still try to consume less and reuse more and I still find that battling others for a $200.00 television, appalling. But, Satan has his minions and so do I.

Now, onto other things. I do have a few great embarrassing stories to share from other readers, so, THANK YOU for cooperating. I also have another embarrassing story of my own to share… maybe a couple more than that. That will begin tomorrow.

Recently seen on text messaging

We have a reached a milestone in this house. A milestone that has felt like no other. One that has brought us jubilation, happy dances, screaming and complete and utter joy…

So, in a recent text message to hubs, in order to share this momentous occasion, this is what could be seen…

Me: HE POOPED AGAIN! A HUGE ADULT-SIZED TERD!

Him: Nice.

Me: It was the most b-utiful terd ever!

Him: Ewwww and SWEET!!

Yes, DramaBoy has FINALLY gone poop in the toilet. Never did I imagine the words that would come flying out of my mouth during this torrid and exciting time. Even as I speak these words I’m taken aback by what I’m saying. I’ll spare you the details….the text message is enough to drive readers away as it is.

But seriously people, I have never NEVER seen a more gorgeous piece of poop. Mr. Hankey has NOTHING on what my son created. For those of you whom are horrified by what I am saying then my guess is that you may not have children and if you do have children, then you probably have a nanny too. Regardless, if you are horrified, then just imagine changing nasty, runny, goopy and horribly stinky diapers for 3 years… then experience what it is like to see your child drop that disgusting bodily waste into a toilet by himself for the first time. You’d pop of bottle of bubbly too.

Nevertheless, parents can understand my satisfaction and joy in the fact that my son has finally partaken in “dropping the kids off at the pool”… “droppin’ a deuce” … “playing lincoln logs” and whatever other useful poop metaphor you would like to interject here.

The world just might be on a downward spiral into a devastating collapse but my son finally pooped in the toilet… and in the words of the immortal Metallica “Nothing Else Matters”.

Happy pooping.