December 4, 2009
And I am ghey.

And I am ghey.

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blueeyedgreek:

shiningstar:

daveholmes:robhuebel:

(not meant to be funny)

This woman is pretty awesome.

This woman is seriously awesome.

This is absolute perfection.

Bad form, New York Senate! 

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I only have to let the car idle for 10 seconds before driving in the winter?!?

Shenanigans! My father told me that a car needs to “heat up” before it’s driven in the winter. Now, I’ve learned that a car only needs 10 seconds of idling—the time it takes me to plug in the iPod and turn on the same darn playlist I’ve had for two years—before putting it in Drive. Excessive idling can, get this, hurt the engine in the long run.

My father cannot be wrong. He’s never wrong. Epoxy fixes everything. Laying down cures any ailment. Old radios only play oldies stations. These are truths.

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December 2, 2009

Obama

Not happy about Obama’s speech last night. I am not saying that troops are not needed. I’m not arguing about his plan. I’m just displeased with the double talk. Change is not imminent. Ineptitude just has a new face.

The only bright spot is that smug liberals can’t be all self-righteous now, can they?

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Two Teachers Text

  • Bobert: A 5th grader has a Ron Reagan beanie baby and I want to steal it!
  • Me: Oh My Ghod...steal it. I demand it of you.
  • Bobert: Haha he carries it with him everywhere.
  • Me: Pat him down...little kids should be easy to fleece. We need that to match John's Ron Reagan watch!
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December 1, 2009
Let’s talk for a moment about baby clothes. Most infant girls clothes are pink. The ones that are not predominately pink have pink polka dots or pink stripes or leetle pink flowers. I actually like pink, but I am getting awfully tired of putting the Goose in an array of Pepto Bismal-hued stretchies. I want variety. I want her to have style! I want her to understand that women (and NJ guidos) don’t always have to wear pink. But when I find a cute outfit that is unisex, she inevitably ends up looking androgenous. At five months old, she still has wisps of peach fuzz and her ears are not pierced. (That barbarity is set for the week between Christmas and New Year’s Eve. You know, before the new year deductible kicks in.) It doesn’t help that she looks just like John…and last time I checked, he was not feminine. To combat the red rage that envelopes me, Hulk-like, whenever a stranger simpers, “He’s so cute!” I have resigned myself to making her look like fluffy cotton candy. Or screaming, “She’s a girl so step off, you old bag.” Periodically, then, I check online for some cool duds for the Goose. Maybe I’ll find something feminine, chic, and not fuchsia. Alas, they are always too expensive, but I can still dream. And sometimes, awesome peeps like Aunt Erin buy her pink outfits that are cashmere and stylish. Then, we love it. Yet I cannot even begin to explain why I hate this stretchie. Oh wait, I can. It’s the same outfit my ninth-grade English teacher wore every day. And she was so awful, a friend made a voodoo doll in her image and threatened to murder her. Let’s tick off the atrocities: grey knit pants, matching grey cardigan, pearls, and a ridiculous corsage that no one—other than prom-goers—should ever pin on her shoulder. Since this is the ugliest old-lady uniform on the face of the earth, why would I want to recreate it for my five-month-old? She already vaguely resembles an old man (it’s the bald/no teeth bit), so why make it worse? A small part of me wants to embrace the campiness of the ensemble. Like when I sent my brother and sister-in-law a t shirt that proclaimed “They Shake Me” for my newly-born niece. But I just cannot do it. It has gold buttons, for bejesus’s sake. Only my grandma sweater (talked about in an early, early post and most likely again if I have time to opine tomorrow) can have gold buttons, and that embarrassment doesn’t leave the house. If you’re actually willing to purchase this item, you can find it for a mere $47.00 (+ s&h) at psychobaby.com. It’s called the Kids Ink Luxury Romper. I would have named it Become The Fifth Golden Girl.

Let’s talk for a moment about baby clothes. Most infant girls clothes are pink. The ones that are not predominately pink have pink polka dots or pink stripes or leetle pink flowers. I actually like pink, but I am getting awfully tired of putting the Goose in an array of Pepto Bismal-hued stretchies. I want variety. I want her to have style! I want her to understand that women (and NJ guidos) don’t always have to wear pink. But when I find a cute outfit that is unisex, she inevitably ends up looking androgenous. At five months old, she still has wisps of peach fuzz and her ears are not pierced. (That barbarity is set for the week between Christmas and New Year’s Eve. You know, before the new year deductible kicks in.) It doesn’t help that she looks just like John…and last time I checked, he was not feminine. To combat the red rage that envelopes me, Hulk-like, whenever a stranger simpers, “He’s so cute!” I have resigned myself to making her look like fluffy cotton candy. Or screaming, “She’s a girl so step off, you old bag.” Periodically, then, I check online for some cool duds for the Goose. Maybe I’ll find something feminine, chic, and not fuchsia. Alas, they are always too expensive, but I can still dream. And sometimes, awesome peeps like Aunt Erin buy her pink outfits that are cashmere and stylish. Then, we love it.

Yet I cannot even begin to explain why I hate this stretchie. Oh wait, I can. It’s the same outfit my ninth-grade English teacher wore every day. And she was so awful, a friend made a voodoo doll in her image and threatened to murder her. Let’s tick off the atrocities: grey knit pants, matching grey cardigan, pearls, and a ridiculous corsage that no one—other than prom-goers—should ever pin on her shoulder. Since this is the ugliest old-lady uniform on the face of the earth, why would I want to recreate it for my five-month-old? She already vaguely resembles an old man (it’s the bald/no teeth bit), so why make it worse?

A small part of me wants to embrace the campiness of the ensemble. Like when I sent my brother and sister-in-law a t shirt that proclaimed “They Shake Me” for my newly-born niece. But I just cannot do it. It has gold buttons, for bejesus’s sake. Only my grandma sweater (talked about in an early, early post and most likely again if I have time to opine tomorrow) can have gold buttons, and that embarrassment doesn’t leave the house.

If you’re actually willing to purchase this item, you can find it for a mere $47.00 (+ s&h) at psychobaby.com. It’s called the Kids Ink Luxury Romper. I would have named it Become The Fifth Golden Girl.

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sararenee: libraryland: cakecatscuriosity: (via gatekeeper) I wish to tattoo this somewhere. 

sararenee:

libraryland:

cakecatscuriosity:

(via gatekeeper)

I wish to tattoo this somewhere. 

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Advent calendars

Even though the chocolate inside tastes like utter crap, I still buy and eat my way through a Trader Joe’s Advent calendar every December. Let the holidays begin!

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November 30, 2009

Things that make me stabby, Part I

If one more magazine or television program utters “R-Patts” again, I’m going to become psychotically violent.

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bellavita: blaaargh: just out of curiosity, what DO you wear as underwear then? A smaller string bikini? Just an adhesive patch? prettiestgirl: YES Why are people even debating what to wear underneath this abomination? The only items it should be paired with are a match and lighter fluid. 

bellavita:

blaaargh: just out of curiosity, what DO you wear as underwear then? A smaller string bikini? Just an adhesive patch?

prettiestgirl: YES

Why are people even debating what to wear underneath this abomination? The only items it should be paired with are a match and lighter fluid. 

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bellavita: this was also how we determined who are friends were in kindergarden  Bwahahahahaha, I still do this.  

bellavita:

this was also how we determined who are friends were in kindergarden 

Bwahahahahaha, I still do this.  

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I can prolly make this.

I can prolly make this.

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November 28, 2009
Fa La La La LaAAAAAAAARRRR.

Fa La La La LaAAAAAAAARRRR.

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Because I still think (5 1/4") floppy disks are kewl

I have no idea what an RSS feed is. Please explain.

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idledays: Heaven is a place on earth  If only it were a Diet Coke Slurpee…and real.

idledays:

Heaven is a place on earth

 If only it were a Diet Coke Slurpee…and real.

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