Adventures in Pet Photography

Have you ever wanted to try something and thought to yourself, hmmm how hard could that be really? I've been sitting here in Captain Carl's office, playing around on the computer...aka procrastinating on decorating the house for Christmas and doing laundry.


So I've been sitting here and this little patch of sunlight is coming through the window and hitting the floor right by my feet. Anyone who has cats knows that there is some kind of law in cat world that wherever a sunbeam is located, a cat must lay in it. So Boo decided to mosy on over and join me in this particular sunbeam. Perfect opportunity for me to do some pet photography, right? How hard can it really be??

I present to you, A Lesson In Futility.

"Boo! Come here Boo! Good boy! Awww, what a pretty boy!"

"Shit."

"Boo, come here big boy! Come here Boo Boo Kitty!"

"Damn It!"

"Hey Boo, look at mommy! Come here and look at mommy!"

"Ack!"

"Boo, get your fat kitty ass over here and look at me. You want a treaty? I'll give you a treaty, just come look at mommy."

"Son of a bitch!!"

"I know you can hear me. Quit ignoring me, you little fucker."

"That's a good Boo Boo. Mommy loves you, yes she does!"

That took me 20 minutes. Damn, pet photography is hard!

I'm Fixin' To Blow Up, Y'all

Holy shit.

My poor body. Oh what abuse it has taken from me in the last 3 days. Someone, please! Tell me to put down the fork! Seriously, I need to stop celebrating holidays because apparently I lack the ability to cease eating while they are occurring. Hell yeah I want some pecan pie! I only ate, like 15 minutes ago, but whatever. Bring it!

My tummy is so pissed off at me right now.

I hope everyone out there in bloggy land had a nice Thanksgiving! I'll be back once I poop out all this holiday cheer.

Already with the Holiday Crap? Plus A Haircut Happened.

My neighbor has his Christmas lights up already. Suck it, neighbor dude.

I mean come on...before Thanksgiving even? And way to totally outdo me with the giant blow-up snowglobe with the penguin that plays peekaboo from the inside. Like my two strings of flashing lights in the overgrown bushes/weeds in front of my house can compete with that shit.

Maybe I'll try to get in the holiday spirit here on the ole blog. Here's a pic to get you in the mood. This is me and my niece wearing jacked up cowgirl outfits in front of my in-laws house at Christmas in 2006. Notice the awesome Christmas decorations. We were leaving to go ghost hunting. Yep, you heard me.

Here's proof of the ghost hunting. We're standing in front of a crypt in the woods...for reals! It's scary as shit. That's Captain Carl on the far right. That's his "mocking my fear" face. He doesn't believe in ghosts, can you tell?

Hey guess what? I got a haircut today. In case you don't remember, read this post to see how my last one went. Yeah, it's really been that long since I cut my hair. I'm a beauty procrastinator. This time things went much better. Captain Carl said it's the best haircut I've ever had since he's known me. Of course, he didn't know me in high school when I had my kick ass spiral perm and mall bangs. I went with the stacked bob cut. Think Victoria Beckham, only fatter with a double chin.

Captain Carl Is A Beast

So Captain Carl totally busted out of his flannel pj's this weekend. Just to clarify, he ripped out the crotch of his pj's. He just sat down and *whapow* the fabric ripped and out comes his junk. Pretty impressive.

And hilarious.

Of course, the first thing he says to me is "Don't you dare blog about this."

I'm totally offended...as if I would blog about my husband's giant penis ripping apart his pants! How insulting and accurate.

Don't hate ladies....you know you're jealous.

I Got Tagged...And Apparently That Doesn't Mean Anything Dirty. I'm A Little Disappointed.

I got tagged by Plo at ForCryEye ....the coolest chicky baby puppet in Puppetland.

So here's my thing with tags...I enjoy doing them, but I usually break the rules and never tag more people. So Plo, please don't be disappointed in me...I promise I'll try to come back to this when I'm not cranky and tired and try to tag some peeps.

In the meantime, please to be enjoying my answers below. Feel free to comment at will...and if you want me to tag you, let me know and we can be tag buddies. hee hee...so dirty!



THE RULES:
1. Link to the person or persons who tagged you.
2. Post the rules on your blog.
3. Write six random things about yourself.
4. Tag six people at the end of your post and link to them.
5. Let each person know they've been tagged and leave a comment on their blog.
6. Let the tagger know when your entry is up.


1. The phrase "Getting Tagged" makes me think of doggie-style sex. It's just the way my dirty mind works.

2. I'm from Minnesota and have a kick ass accent. I sound like I came straight out of the movie Fargo. Oh yah, you betcha!

3. One of my biggest fears is that someone will break into our house when we are gone, hide and then come out and kill us all while we sleep. It drives Captain Carl crazy. Every night I'm all "What the hell was that?" and he's all "What?" and I'm all "THAT! That noise!" and he's all "yawn" and I'm all "Go see what it is!" and he's all "The hell I will." and I'm all "What if it's a guy with an ax?" and he's all "Tell him to do me first and put me out of my misery" and I'm all "You're an asshole" and he's all "Can I be a sleeping asshole please?" I love that guy.

4. Do you know the way to San Jose? Laa laa la la laa laa la la!

5. I have a hump. For reals. Not like a Hunchback of Notre Dame hump or anything...it's barely noticeable. I have what my mom calls a Dowager's Hump. Ever heard of it? Me either. She probably made it up. I have 3 sisters and 2 of them, myself and my mom have this little curve at the top of our spines just below our necks. It's totally a cute, sexy hump. Ima get get get get you drunk, get you love drunk off my hump.

6. My favorite songs of all time are My Sharona, You Dropped a Bomb on Me, and Word Up. You know, the classics.

Read Yo-Mama's Blog. Do It. Do It Now.

So for a few weeks I noticed that when I googled my blog, a couple of my posts came up right at the top of the first page. Yea! How does that happen? I have no idea, I'm a googling idiot.

But the last couple of days some strange website keeps popping up ahead of mine when I google myself. Every day there is another entry above mine, the fuckers. And I won't even visit the website to find out because they totally suck. Boo!

So since I know nothing about google analytics or blogging whatsits and all that jazz, I decided all by myself that the answer to getting shoved up to the top of google search again is to mention my blog name multiple times here.

So. Yo Mama. What? That's right, Yo Mama. I said Yo Mama's Blog. Blah blah blah yo-mama. Oooo snap, I totally snuck that last link to Guy Kawasaki in there. Jenny at The Bloggess would be so proud.

P.S. I totally forgot to blog about how my son had his girlfriend over last night and Captain Carl totally caught them making out. Hee hee!!! (Don't worry, it was just kissing. Anything else and little Miss Thing would have been on her way home pronto.) Unfortunately for me, and fortunately for the kiddo I was not there to see it. If I had, I would have snuck back and thrown a few condoms at their heads and then run away. And maybe I would have made fart noises while I did it. Cause I'm awesome.

Quantum of Bad Judgement

Big news! Captain Carl took me on a date Friday night. I know!! Not only did we have dinner, but we also....get this....saw a movie. Gasp! Two date-like activities in one night! Holy crap on a cracker.

So we decided to see Quantum of Solace...it was pretty good. Lots of chasing and shooting and the hotness that is Daniel Craig or whatever his name is because I really don't care what his name is, he is lickable and that is all the matters.

And of course, because we are magnets for idiots, a couple sat down behind us with 3 children under the age 5. TO SEE A JAMES BOND MOVIE. Nice. Not at all inappropriate. Fucking dumbasses.

I know my last post was all about how cool and forward thinking our parenting style is...but come on dudes. Even I wouldn't take a 3 year old to a movie that is guaranteed to have people getting killed in just about every fashion imaginable and naked chicks. Side note...this James Bond edition was disappointingly short on naked chicks. Not even cold weather nipples poking through a shirt. I think maybe there was a side boob in silhouette in the opening credits, and those chicks aren't even real...they are cartoons. Sigh.

Anyway, I spent about 10 minutes fuming to Captain Carl in a stage-whisper about how irresponsible and stupid some people are. And we see this shit every time we go to the movies. Someone actually brought a baby to see Knocked Up. Yeah, it was too little to even be able to watch the movie, and yeah it is kind of funny ironic when you think about a baby in a theater watching a movie about having a baby...but still. Dumb.

Turns out those 3 kids were incredibly well-behaved through the whole two hours of Quantumness. So I couldn't decide if that was because their parents manage to discipline their children or if it was because the kids were silent because they were shoveling scary images into their brains in order to have some dandy nightmares later. Either way, I got to watch my movie in peace. Which is more than I can say for the time I had to take the kiddo on his first date to see "Balls of Fury" and sat amongst about 100 teenagers laughing at butt and sex jokes. Ahhh, good times.

But come on people! Get a babysitter or go see something age appropriate, for nut's sake!

Failing Miserably or Coolest Parents Ever?

WARNING: This post is way too long...feel free to skip it, but know this! It's pretty much the most awesome post I've ever written. So if you are okay with missing out on that, then that's cool. Loser.

So I was reading Happy Meals & Happy Hour today, and I left a comment on this post that got me to thinking...yeah, I know...scary.

I would consider my husband and myself fairly open-minded, forward thinking parents. We have rules for our 16 year old...rules he must always follow or he gets punished. We have a standard level his grades must be at all times, he has chores he must complete before any socializing can happen, etc. Pretty typical stuff, I would say.

But in a lot of ways I think we are different than some parents. What I mean is that we are always extremely open with him about life. We don't shelter him from reality, we try to make him aware of what is going on around him in our world. We tell him our honest opinion about things such as sex, birth control and religion. Hot topics for most parents are things we discuss without any qualms in our home. Our son knows his dad smoked weed sometimes when he was younger. Our son knows that we have become increasingly disillusioned with organized religion. Our son knows his parents have sex...often. Like rabbits. Really sexy rabbits. Ahem... the point is, we talk to our son about real shit.

Example: When the kiddo got his first girlfriend at 15, the Condom Fairy visited him pronto. For reals...the ACTUAL Condom Fairy (i.e. Captain Carl dressed in fairy wings and a blonde wig that I had from past Halloween costumes). CF and I snuck into the kiddo's room early one morning, and CF scattered condoms over his sleepy little head. Got it all on videotape too. We, of course, thought this was HIL-AR-I-OUS. The kiddo, not so much.

It was freaking genius and funny, but we did it because we are realists. By the time I was 15, I was doing the dirty in the backseat of my boyfriend's old Fury using the tried and true pull-out method of birth control. Captain Carl could probably have written a How-To-Score-With-Teenage-Sluts book by that age. Of course, we have preached abstinence and common sense to the kiddo from the moment I washed his first "alone-time towel" (parents of children under the age of 12...pay attention. No, your son will not suddenly develop a bladder infection that requires him to be in the bathroom 8 times a day. It's just puberty...roll with it.). But come on peeps, if you think your hormone-enraged teenager is going to actually listen to you then you, my friend, are delusional.

Yeah yeah yeah...I know there are some truly "good" kids out there. You might get one of those "good" kids, but let's do the math. Most of us were bad in at least one way...what are the odds your kid won't be? So we want him to be prepared in case he makes a decision we hope he doesn't make. Same thing goes with drugs, alcohol, driving drunk, getting married, douche-bag teachers, etc. The list goes on and on.

Anyhoo....most of the time I feel totally comfortable with our parenting style. It doesn't work for everyone...it probably will offend some people actually. But meh...whatever, our kid is awesome and he's going to be a fantastic grown-up someday, so I'm cool with that.

But there are some days when I wonder if we are just completely awful parents. Like the day I let the kiddo watch Team America when he was 12 years old because I had never seen it but knew it had puppets so how bad could it be? Yeah...ummmmmm, did you guys know there is a puppet sex scene in that movie??? Gah! Or the day just recently when I made these awesome cake balls for dessert and my son said, "I've got two balls" and Captain Carl responded with, "That's what she said" and then they laughed for about 5 minutes.

So yeah....leave me a comment and tell me what you think. Worst Parents in the World, or Wicked Awesome?

Wide Width My Ass

I have fat girl feet. There are only a few select retailers that sell good wide width shoes. I'm talking about sexy heels...just cause I'm fat doesn't mean I want to wear fugly shoes.


So I thought I found some great pumps recently. Open toe, fabulous black and white check fabric, 2 inch heels. Yummy. And bonus, they are wide width! Awesome, my chubby little tootsie will look tasty and will feel comfy too!


Wrong. Two hours into my work day today and I had lost all feeling in my toes, which had squooshed together so hard that they were leaving impressions of themselves in each other. Four hours into my work day and my feet felt like giant sausages stuffed into lipstick tubes. Luckily, I keep a pair of emergency flip flops under my desk in case a situation such as this arises. Arose? Arises? Blech.


But because I'm a such an attention whore, I put those torture devices back on my swollen feet after lunch....all because one lady told me this morning she loved my shoes when I walked into the building.


And I could have worn my comfy flip flops out to my car at the end of the day, but I didn't. I wore those fucking nazi shoes all the way out to the parking garage and drove home wearing them. I'm a glutton for punishment.


Now I want to buy THESE. $50???? Seemed outrageous when I first saw them...but tonight I would pay triple that....my poor toes!

I. Am. Crazy. Cat. Lady.

Wow, I just re-read my last post and realized what a Debbie Downer I am.


I can't do that to all of my many (4) readers!


So...here I am at my office Halloween party last Friday. I came as a Crazy Cat Lady.




I can't believe the first picture I post of myself is this one...complete with double chin and weird claw hand motion.

I totally won a prize for favorite costume. Yep, I'm awesome. And fat.... And crazy for posting this disgusting picture of myself. And clearly my left boob is bigger than my right...What?!! I wore an old bra that day...on purpose, because I was supposed to be CRAZY. Shut up, you don't know me!


Now I need to run off and get a nice picture taken of myself and photoshop out my waddle to make up for this nasty thing.


P.S. Read this one fast...it might disappear once I come to my senses and delete it.

McBama & Paden

Instead of trying to decipher both candidates platforms, figure out who the hey-ho the VP candidates are (because unless you are a huge political nerd, you've probably never heard of Palin or Biden before this year...no? Maybe that's just me then...wow, embarassing...) and wade through all the really mean and ugly mudslingers you come across.....


How about we just mix-mash them all up together and create one super President & VP?


Meh.


I voted...I was excited about my vote. Still am.


But can I just say??? So. Tired. Of. This. Bullshit.


Captain Carl's job is no bueno and we are both dangling oh so precariously close to unemployment...as so many others are right now. We've got a kid to get through college in less than two years. We've got a mortgage and car payments and stupid debts to pay. I just want to feel financially safe again...like we did 3 years ago, when we had plenty of savings and steady work. You know, before our own personal bomb hit and we were unemployed, burning through every penny of our savings and borrowing from my sister to pay the taxes. I'm sure it won't matter to us which candidate gets elected....at least in the short run. We'll still be scrambling to keep afloat for quite awhile. I don't really know who to blame for it....ourselves mainly. But lately I've really enjoyed pointing a finger at our country's leaders....the middle finger, mostly. No one is hiring right now...no one wants to spend any more money. So you lose a job because of downsizing, outsourcing or closing all together, and you have nowhere to go.


Captain Carl took me to lunch today. He confided in me about how worried he is about his job. He's looking for something else, and there just isn't anything out there. I see on his face how awful it is for him to be back where we were not too long ago...how it keeps him up at night, worrying about how to provide for his family if he is laid off.

All those what if's......I hate them.


Meh.