Thursday, December 31, 2009

Ringing In The New Year In Typical Sexy Style

Hey, guess what? Today's the last day of 2009, which also makes it the last day of a whole decade. You can thank me later for imparting that knowledge upon you. I'm a giver.

So I thought about writing an epic post today and going out with a bang (that's what she said). Then I thought about it again and decided not to and instead highlight my favorite posts from the past year. Because I'm just that narcissistic.


So there you go. Damn, I'm awesome.

And now I'm off to get drunk on asti spumante because I'm classy like that.

Happy New Year, fuckers!!

Wednesday, December 30, 2009

He Finally Admitted It...Now With Even More P.S.'s!

I'm back, bitches!

The Captain and I were in New Orleans for five days, but he wouldn't let me announce it on the blog in case "some crazy ass follower comes to the house and breaks in and takes all your vibrators" even though I told him "I don't have that many vibrators to make it worth breaking in for". But I guess if you have no vibrators, getting even one would be kind of a Christmas miracle. And I suppose if you also stole my penis straws while you were there it would be kind of like the second coming. Heh Heh, I said "coming".

This just in. I'm probably going to hell.

Anyway, now I'm back and exhausted from all the walking and touristing and hurricane drinking. I'll have pictures for you soon from the trip, but I just had to tell y'all about something amazing that just happened this morning.

Captain Carl told me I am smarter than him. I believe his exact words were "I'm so glad you are smarter than me" and he was being totally serious. And now I'm in smartass heaven.

P.S. Carlos Spicy Weiner is still in doggie jail. The campaign continues....

P.P.S. I didn't get to meet Harry for lunch in NOLA after all. I asked Mike, our limo driver (yes, I said limo driver...jealous?) to drop me at his house on our way in from the airport and he was all "Who?" and I was all "You know...HCJ?" and he was all "Ummmm, I don't know him" and I was all "What???? How is that possible???" and he was all "I know where Brad Pitt lives though" and I was all "Well then take me to Brad's house so I can get directions to Harry's house" and he was all "Okay, hahahaa" and I was all "I'm not kidding, Mike" and he was all "Ummmm" and I was all "Seriously, you want this three dollar tip or not?" and then he put that little window thingy up between him and us and I ended up at the hotel and totally not at Brad's house and Mike probably had to explain to his wife why he couldn't put dinner on the table that night because he didn't get my huge tip. Heh heh...I said "huge tip".

P.P.P.S. I just realized some of my most favoritist bloggers have jumped on the Save Carlos campaign bandwagon. Go here, here, here and here to check out their blogs....because they are so awesome and talented and probably the best writers anywhere and also because they have a picture of a dog with the words "spicy" and "weiner" in his name. If you link up on your blog let me know and I will totally pimp you out over here. I'll be all "Where's my money, bitch?" and then slap you but then I'll hug you and send you back out to the streets with a little pat on the ass because I'm the pimp with a heart.

P.P.P.P.S. Okay, you people are kind of freaking me out with the Carlos thing. Check this out. And this. And this. Twitter people! Twitter! Why didn't I think of that before! If I don't get this motherfuckin' dog, I'm gonna be pissed off to infinity.

Thursday, December 24, 2009

I live in a world of fur – Not the sexy 70’s porn kind either

Captain Carl insisted on having a guest post today to make some kind of point about why he doesn't want to adopt Carlos Spicy Weiner. I agreed so that I can say this is his Christmas present from me. Now I don't have to give him a blowjob.

I am surrounded by errant cat fur, piles of partially digested food, hair, plant material, string(dental Floss) and just because it’s Christmas and the “The brown one” is especially bitchy….lots and lots of ribbon in her poop.“The brown one” can’t pass a present without taking a bite.

You just haven’t lived until you have cats walking by with string hanging out of their asses like some kind of shiny tampon string made by Willy Wonka. “The white one” and “brown one” both evidently like to decorate their back sides for the season. It’s festive and I hate it.

“The white one” is so fat that he can’t properly clean himself so we get to give him monthly butt baths. “The brown one” likes to take turds out of the litter box every once in a while and bat them about the house if she feels the box is too dirty. “The brown one” also likes to pee on any rug in the house. That’s a fun smell… We actually put hard woods in to keep her from ruining the carpet. We spent seven grand so the CAT would stop peeing in the house…. Guess what, it didn’t work. I hate that little asshole.

“The white one” sheds so much that I can’t sit down in my house with black pants on or it looks like my ass ate Santa. “The brown one” likes to wake us up in the middle of the night yowling, or climbing on the treadmill; or my favorite, standing on your testicles.

If we gathered all of the fur on a daily basis, we could knit sweaters for most of the orphans in Texas. We clean up at least one pile of puke each day and every baseboard in the house is dirty from them dragging themselves along or covered in brown and white fur.

“The brown one” likes to stare at me as if she’s waiting for me to drop dead from a massive coronary or seizure. I swear to God she waits for me half way down the stairs in hopes that she can have an opportunistic meal. Cats are likely to start eating their owners within minutes of their death. Dogs will only do that as a very last resort. It’s true, more crime scenes have been tainted by cats than any other domestic animals including pigs. WTF? I would sooner sell these little f’ers to a nice Hmong family for meat. The only thing stopping me from letting these bitches out into the world to be with their kind is Miss Yvonne. They better hope and pray she out lives them….

A day in Capt’n Carl’s Cat Diary:

Sunday Dec 19th:

2:15am - “The brown one” is yowling for her brother again. I reach down and throw a shoe. I hope to god I hit her in the head.

6:30am -“The white one” is puking somewhere. It sounds distant, but could be anywhere.7:00am – Found the puke, on the floor on my side of the bed still warm and squishy between my toes.

9:00am – It’s quiet, too quiet. Something must be up.

1:00pm- Still no sign of puke monsters

3:30pm - “The white one” is puking in the closet. I’m saving that one for Miss Yvonne too clean up.

4:04pm- The fuckers are laying on top of the laundry I just took out of the dryer, I wish I could put them in the washer when I re-wash these clothes

4:45- “The brown one” just tried to trip me on the stairs.

5:45- Miss Yvonne is home and both cats can’t wait to show off today’s ass ribbons. “The brown one” decided on a lovely shiny green string, while “The white one” went with a blue ribbon to match his white fur. It’s like the Macy’s parade without the parade part.

6:45-“The brown one” is staring at me, waiting. I ask Miss Yvonne if I look like I’m about to have a seizure.

7:17pm-“The white one” just puked on the bed – awesome.

8:30pm-“The brown one” is chewing on a present. I throw a book; I hope to god I hit her in the head.

9:45pm- “The white one” just took a dump and we can smell it out in the living room.

9:50pm-“The brown one” not to be outdone did the same. As usual she makes no attempt to cover her mess in any way. Mmmmm, cat odor.

10:30pm-“The brown one” just walked across my crotch as I was almost asleep. I threw her off the bed, I hope to god she hits her head.

Monday Dec 20th:

3:40am - “The brown one” is yowling for her brother. I reach down and throw a shoe. I hope to god I hit her in the head…..

In addition to this daily circus that is my life; Miss Yvonne wants to adopt some Basset Weiner that found its way into our garage. The only way in hell that Carlos Spicy Weiner comes home with us is if he agrees to solve my cat problem once and for all. Oral sex be damned!

Wednesday, December 23, 2009

UPDATED: Short, Fat & Carlos

This adorable guy showed up in our garage the other night.

He ran in when we opened the door and cowered behind the car, whining and trying to make his big old self as small as possible. I managed to lure him out with a little food and once he ate, he decided I was his new forever friend and promptly rolled over on his back to get his belly scratched.

Damn it, I was in love.

Lucky for Captain Carl, some folks from down the street noticed him earlier in the night and had decided to track him down and take him to the city shelter. Because otherwise? That dog would have been ours. No way could I have kept him overnight and then turned him over to the animal shelter. I mean, look at that face!

After they left with him, I begged and begged to adopt him and when that didn't work, I gave the Captain my best frowny face. That didn't work either.

Captain: No dogs.
Me: But he chose us!
Captain: No he didn't.
Me: He did so! He came right into our garage.
Captain: No dogs. Not right now.
Me: You're just a big jerk face.
Captain: Okay, fine. I'm a jerk face.
Me: First Regina, now Carlos.
Captain: Carlos?
Me: That's his name.
Captain: Stop naming every stray dog you see!
Me: I can't help it. Their names just come to me.
Captain: Right.
Me: Tell me that dog didn't look like a Carlos. He's all short and fat and cool. Totally a Carlos.
Captain: I'm thinking he looked more like a Fred.
Me: Oh way to be original, Mr. Smokey and the Bandit.
Captain: *blank stare*
Me: His name is Carlos Spicy Weiner.
Captain: Carlos Spicy Weiner.
Me: Yep.
Captain: Where have I heard that before?
Me: Nowhere. Except here. Because I thought it up. Because I'm awesome.
Captain: Hmmmm...
Me: So once Christmas is over, I am totally adopting Carlos if he is still at the shelter.
Captain: Nope. No dogs.
Me: You'd rather Carlos get murdered?
Captain: Our city shelter is no-kill. Nice try.
Me: He's not gonna be euthanized. He's gonna get shanked.
Captain: *blank stare*
Me: Because he's in doggy prison and there are always about 15 pit bulls in doggy prison and pit bulls are like the shanky-ist prison dogs ever and they will totally pick on Carlos because he's got short legs.
Captain: Your logic really scares me sometimes.
Me: I'm putting my foot down. Carlos Spicy Weiner is ours on January 2.
Captain: Family Guy!
Me: What?
Captain: You stole that name from Family Guy.
Me: Yeah well....your mom.
Captain: No dogs.

UPDATE: Houston has started a "Free Carlos" campaign over at his blog. I sense the Captain is waivering.....I need more comments and maybe even copies of Houston's poster on your blog to convince him.

Monday, December 21, 2009

UPDATED: Happy Holidays From Cell Block B

Since y'all demanded to see the prison art, I have now included a photo of it at the bottom of the post. Consider it my Christmas gift to you. You're welcome.

The Kiddo came home from school on Friday with a drawing of a trumpet, his instrument of choice, from his girlfriend...

Me: What's that?
Kiddo: My Christmas present from Marilyn.
Captain: Oh yeah? Let's see it.
Kiddo: It's a drawing.
Me & Captain: Ooooh, nice!
Me: I didn't know Marilyn could draw like that.
Kiddo: She can't. Her mom did it.
Captain: Oh that's nice, she got her mom to make it for you?
Kiddo: Yep. Cool, right?
Me: Oh yeah, definitely cool. I especially like the airbrushed colors.
Captain: Very tattoo-ish.
Me: Did she draw the trumpet free-hand?
Kiddo: Yep, she didn't use a template or ruler or anything.
Captain: Impressive!
Me: Very intricate.
Kiddo: Yeah, I guess she has a lot of time in prison to do stuff like this.


Me: Excuse me?
Kiddo: Her mom's in prison.
Captain: Oh.
Me: Huh.


Me: What for?
Kiddo: Something to do with meth.
Captain: Hmmm, well....ummm...
Me: That sucks.
Kiddo: Yeah, pretty much.

*silence while we all stare at the drawing*

Me: Well, that is so nice of her mom to do that for you!
Captain: Totally! If I were in prison, I'd probably just make shanks and shivs and figure out how to make moonshine under my bunk.
Me: Drawing is way better than making shivs.
Captain: Probably not as lucrative though.
Me: But less stabby.
Captain: Good point.
Me: I know, right? Up top!
Kiddo: Okay, you guys aren't going to say that stuff when Marilyn comes over tonight, are you?
Captain: Of course we are. n't.
Kiddo: Wait. You are or you aren't?
Me: Right.
Kiddo: Right what??
Captain: We are. n't.
Kiddo: Knock it off!
Me: No need to raise your voice, son.
Kiddo: Just give me a straight answer!
Captain: I already did. We totally are or are not.
Me: One or the other.
Kiddo: This is exactly why I never bring girls over here. *stomps upstairs*


Me: Holy shit. Prison art.
Captain: Maybe you shouldn't blog about this.
Me: I never said anything about blogging about it.
Captain: *stares*
Me: Oh come on! Prison art!
Captain: He'll be so mad at you if he finds out.
Me: I won't tell him about it until he's in college. Then it'll be funny.
Captain: Maybe. Then again, maybe not.
Me: *giggle*
Captain: Stop it. You are going to hell for laughing about this poor girl's misfortune.
Me: I know, I should stop.


Me: Hey honey...
Captain: Yeah?
Me: *whispering* Prison art!

Friday, December 18, 2009

People Love Me. I'm Kind Of A Big Deal.

So Wednesday night was a pretty bad night for me. Marian the Librarian moved out in the early morning hours Wednesday and she asked Captain Carl if he wouldn't mind getting rid of some garbage for her. Just some stuff she didn't want anymore but didn't have time to dispose of. I suppose he thought she meant maybe four or five bags of junk and maybe a few boxes because he said yes.

Dudes. That crazy bitch left about 25 garbage bags of junk, 20 empty boxes and 15 pieces of furniture. I am not even shitting you. How she got all that crap in one little bedroom in the first place is beyond me. Turns out we had one of those crazy hoarding people living in our house and didn't know it. And here's a little bonus....she left a dirty litter box in there. A DIRTY litter box, y'all. It smells like a fucking pet store in there. And not a nice pet store. The kind of pet store that you walk into with your kids because la la la look how we're making happy family memories by visiting cute little puppies and kittens! and then suddenly it's a horror show of feces and urine and hair and yucky smells and your kids are screaming and you're gagging from the fumes and blam! there's your family memory, only it ain't happy.

So yeah...bad night. And yesterday morning I drove to work thinking about how much cleaning and dumping we were going to be doing this weekend and I was all frowny and grumpy and I just knew this day was going to suck. Then I got to work and checked my blog for comments, because I'm an attention whore and also a really shitty employee.

Dudes! I don't know what I did to deserve this (that's a lie...I do know what I did and that is be super awesome and sexy), but three of my all-time favorite bloggers decided to make today "Miss Yvonne Appreciation Day". No shit. Turns out Vic, Becky and Kurt got together (dirty? maybe.) and decided they would each write a blog post about little ole me. And they are all awesome, kick-ass posts and I am (kind of) humbled and (totally) appreciative because I pretty much wish I could write like they do every single time I read their blogs. I'm also completely jealous of how many followers and comments they get, because as I said before (in my last paragraph...keep up, loser) I am an attention whore and everytime I check my followers I make that drumroll sound with my tongue. Your mom taught me how to do that because she's a whore too, but in the literal sense.


Now that Kurt has said I'm super awesome at your mom jokes, I can't come up with a single good one. I think he jinxed me, which was probably his secret plan all along because that's exactly the kind of blogger he is. He uses his ridiculously handsome looks and his run-on sentences and love of all things dinosaur and skittles to distract you before he goes in for the kill. And now that my your mom skills have been disabled he's going think he's the king of your mom. But he's totally not because only one person can be the king and that person is your dad.

That's right. I just replaced your mom with your dad. Your dad is the new your mom.

No? Not working for you?


Thanks a lot Kurt. I hope you and Beautiful Treasure and your dinosaurs are happy now.

Anyway, so I'm always checking Vic's blog to see if she has posted anything new because she is so cute and funny and I hate going weeks between new posts from her. Also she has a profile picture of herself wearing really huge sunglasses but when I first saw it I thought she had fly eyes. Go look at it...I'm telling you, fly eyes. Okay, I just went and looked again and really they look nothing like fly eyes and my mind probably just told me that because she's so damn cute and I was jealous of her non-double chin so I made up the fly eye thing to make myself feel better. My point is that I am honored that Vic took the time out of her very busy schedule to write about me and link to some of my own best posts. Vic, I heart you to infinity plus fly eyes.

And then there's Becky (remember the theme song to Maude? Classic). She has me literally laughing out loud (I know she loves that) with every post. I can't decide what I love most about her...she uses great swears, she's totally inappropriate, she makes fun of things other people are afraid to make fun of, she vlogs on days that she hasn't many awesome things. I've always loved Becky, but now I love her even more because she put boobies all over her blog for me today. Just because I left a comment once asking her to blog about me and to mention titties when she does it. And she did both. I think I'll ask her to send me money and vibrators next. You need to visit her blog today, just so you can see the man boobs picture.








BSGLAPHFF (Best Super Good Looking And Possibly Homosexual Friends Forever)

Wednesday, December 16, 2009

It's Not Stalking If It's True Love

Dear Harry Connick Jr,

I haven't received your confirmation on my RSVP to lunch next week while I'm in New Orleans. I'm going to assume you haven't had time to open it or maybe it got lost in the mail. The US Postal Service is so unreliable, right? I haven't received any of your replies to my other letters either...weird. I am FedExing this one to be sure you receive it.

So you probably remember from my first five letters that I am flying to New Orleans on Christmas day. Are you as excited as I am to finally be meeting in person??? I mean, letters are great and all but nothing compares to a face to face conversation. And really Harry, your last three concerts don't really count as a "face to face conversation". Because even though I yelled "Harry!" and "I love you!" and "I want to have your babies!" and "I will totally punch Jill in the face to get to you!" and then you kind of turned my direction in the stadium and smiled so that I would know you heard me, there were just too many other people there to go any further with it. Which is probably why you sang "It Had To Be You" next. You know, as a signal to me that you love me just as much as I do you and also that you are okay with me beating up your wife. Message received, lover.

I just found out that a girl I work with went to elementary school with one of your cousins. As you can imagine, this news made me all jumpy and clappy and a little bug-eyed. I tried to friend your cousin, but she ignored me so I sent her another friend request after I changed my profile picture to the one I sent to you last month. Remember? The one with you where I photoshopped my face over Jill's face? So far she hasn't accepted my request, but she's probably just busy working or something. We'll probably end up being bff's and next Christmas we'll all laugh and laugh at how funny the world is and how awesome and not at all creepy I am.

Guess what? I made your Christmas present yesterday. I had a hard time deciding between knitting a scarf and making a collage made from my hair and fingernail clippings. I went with the collage. I figure you have plenty of scarves already. Plus everyone always tells me how soft and pretty my hair is, so really it would be mean to not give it to you.

Well, I better run...time to write my annual Christmas letter to all the friends and family. I hope you don't mind, but I decided to tell everyone about our secret engagement. You can go ahead and deny it though....I understand. We don't need the press hounding you. I know that's why you got that restraining order against me too. Because you totally knew I was kidding when I left that message on your website that said "I don't want to hurt you, but sometimes you give me no choice, Harry." Haahahaaa, I'm hilarious!

I'll meet you outside your house for lunch when I get into town next week, okay? I'll be the one wearing reindeer antlers and climbing your security fence.

Love Forever and Always Until Death or Possibly Prison Parts Us,
Miss Yvonne

P.S. I had to get a new username on your fanclub website because somehow I accidentally got blocked again. Just an fyi, in case you are wondering who "iwouldkillforyou" is.

Tuesday, December 15, 2009

I'll Take "Things That Should Never Ever Happen" For 500, Alex.

Yesterday Marian was packing up her things in preparation for her move to Ireland.

Yesterday Emo came over to help her pack.

Yesterday Marian asked Emo to do some laundry for her.

Yesterday Emo had to take my laundry out of the dryer so that he could put Marian's laundry in it.

Yesterday Emo touched my granny panties. A lot.

The End.

Monday, December 14, 2009

I Was Almost A Witness To A Puppy Massacre

Yesterday Captain Carl and I saw a guy on the side of the highway holding a puppy straight up over his head.

Me: Did you see that?
Captain: Was he holding a puppy??
Me: Yes!
Captain: Weird.
Me: He's either trying to sell it or deciding which car to throw it at.
Captain: What's the matter with you?
Me: What?
Captain: Seriously? That's where your mind went with that? He's going to throw a puppy into traffic?
Me: Well, he's definitely not wearing a trench coat and playing "In Your Eyes" from it. What else would he being doing with a puppy over his head?
Captain: Nice John Cusack reference.
Me: Thank you.

*5 minutes of silence*

Captain: I'm so glad he didn't throw that puppy at us.
Me: I know! I mean, we just got the car detailed.

*another minute of silence*

Me: And also because I don't want that puppy to be killed.
Captain: Of course.
Me: I mean, I didn't say that first because it's just implied.
Captain: Right.
Me: Unless you are some sicko who likes to see cute little animals splattered on the road. Which I'm totally not.
Captain: Are you done?
Me: I love animals. So much.
Captain: Mmmm hmmmm
Me: I would totally adopt that highway puppy, but you wouldn't let me.
Captain: Nope, no puppies.
Me: Because you hate dogs and would rather see them hit be a car than living in your house.
Captain: Look, I am not driving back there to buy that puppy.
Me: I know that. Because you could care less that little Regina is about to be roadkill.
Captain: Regina?
Me: That's the puppy's name. Regina Phalange.
Captain: *sigh*
Me: *in tears* Poor Regina! He'll probably take her to pound when no one buys her from him and she'll just sit there in her cage, staring out at all the happy families who pick different dogs to take home for Christmas and then on December 26 they will euthanize her because NO ONE WANTED THE HIGHWAY PUPPY!
Captain: This is why I won't let you volunteer at the animal shelter.
Me: *sobbing*

*another minute of silence*

Captain: Look! Sonic! Who wants a holiday ice cream blast???
Me: Oooh, me!!! Me!!! Ohmygod, I am sooo happy right now!

What? I'm easily distracted. Shut up.

Thursday, December 10, 2009

C is for Awesome

You ever have one of those days where most everything seems to be a struggle and you know that big vein in your forehead is going to burst at any second? Yeah, me too. Only mine is one of those years, not days. I made up my mind this morning to write a really whiny blog just because I felt like it. And also maybe because I have the menstrual cramps. But then something really amazing and unexpected happened. I just reached into my paperclip bowl at work and guess what I pulled out? Not a paperclip or a binder clip or even a severed finger. A blue plastic ring with a picture of Cookie Monster on it.

For reals.

Dudes, I have no idea how it got in there. I've been using this paperclip bowl for years and never saw it. It appeared as if from nowhere! It's like Jim Henson was watching me from heaven and saw how frowny I've been lately and so he reached down from the clouds and blam! Cookie Monster ring.

I think you will all agree that that is probably the most awesome thing ever to find in a paperclip bowl. In fact, it could maybe be the most awesome thing ever to find in anything. Except for maybe a three dollar bill. Because if you found one of those, you could be all "That guy is as queer as this" to your friend and then you could hand the three dollar bill to them and they would be all "OMG that is the most awesome thing you've ever said and handed to me!" and then you would nod and be all "Yes, I know. Now give me back my three dollar bill, hooker" and then the end.

P.S. I gave my paperclip Cookie Monster ring to the loud bitch that sits in the office behind me. Because this is the season for giving and also because I left early yesterday and she saw me so I needed a bribe. Thank you, Jim Henson.

Monday, December 7, 2009

Emo, Enchiladas & The Suicide Girls

Captain Carl and I decided to splurge a few weekends ago and went out for dinner. We don't do that much these days because of this new thing we've got called The Budget. I hate The Budget. The Budget is an asshole. The Budget insists that we capitalize his name because he's soooo important. The Budget is always saying stupid shit like "I don't think you need to buy that shirt" and "Chick-fil-a is not a necessity" and "Making the car payment is more important than driving to Shreveport to gamble". When Captain Carl gets a job, the first thing I'm going to do is punch The Budget right in the face and I'm gonna be holding a credit card in my fist because irony is painful and awesome.

So we invited the Kiddo and his best friend, Emo, to come with us to dinner because I really wanted to piss off The Budget that day. The boys were out "looking for jobs" aka "driving aimlessly while looking for hot babes", so they agreed to meet us at the restaurant. We chose the Mexican place that has the most awesome salsa and the Captain and I settled down to a couple of frosty margaritas and a basket of chips. An hour later, I'm half in the bag and the moron twins have still not arrived.

We were about to give up and order when they sauntered in, looking all Outsider-ish with their black t-shirts and rolled-up jeans and when they sat down, I was all "Stay golden, Ponyboy" and they just stared at me like I was an alien so I shrugged and chugged the rest of my 3rd margarita. Also, they might not have looked anything like the Outsiders, but when they walked in I was thinking "I wonder what Ralph Macchio is up to these days?" and that's where my mind went with things. Shut up.

So the boys are there and we're there and we're all talking and eating enchiladas and I'm laughing my ass off because the boys are there and Emo's too loud and too obnoxious and all pimply and I just want to hug him but I know he'd freak out and say something dumb like "I'm not into old chicks" or "Ohmygod your stepmom's boob just touched my arm" so I don't.

The conversation naturally turned to girls, as it always does with teenage boys. Emo is having a problem getting over a girl, and by "having a problem" I mean "sits outside her house at night in his car" and "follows her around at school" and "calls her 20 times a day". He's basically stalking this girl and I would feel sorry for her, except that she clearly loves it because the minute he starts leaving her alone, she starts calling him. It's exactly something I would have done in high school and yes okay, I actually did do it but only for a few months and only because the guy was losing his hair in the 11th grade so he was totally asking for it.

Anyway, the Captain was trying to teach Emo how to meet new girls because he's a big social retard and he's made the unfortunate mistake of picking my son as his best friend. The Kiddo has an ego the size of Canada (big ups to my Canadian blog friends, yo!) and honestly believes he can get any girl he wants. He's inherited his father's charm and he has no fear when it comes to girls, so I guess the Captain thinks he can help poor Emo with this too.

One of the hostesses at the restaurant goes to their school and according to the Kiddo, is totally hot. So the Captain suggested to Emo that he go up to her and say hi. Emo got all googly-eyed and jerky and said no way. So the Kiddo, our little Rico Suave wannabe, is all "Let me show you how it's done" and walked over to her. Let me tell y'all, watching your kid smile and flirt and fling his hair out of his eyes while the girl he's talking to bats her eyelashes is about the most fun a parent can have. Especially when you're on your 4th margarita.

The Kiddo came back to the table with a big smile and a new phone number, and Emo kept saying "How do you do that??". I suspect this is partly why the Kiddo hangs out with Emo. I imagine the constant ego strokes are addictive. The Kiddo just shrugs his shoulders and is all "Meh, I just do it. It's a gift." and Emo is all "Dude, you are the master!" and the Kiddo is all "Heh heh, you said master" and Emo is all "Yeah! MasterBATOR" and they just sit there laughing hysterically at their awesome joke and then I banged their heads together like in The Three Stooges only without Moe, which worked out just fine because everyone knows Moe was a total asshole.

So Emo recovers after a few minutes with "She's not my type anyway" and I asked him what is his type. Captain Carl pipes up with "Girls who wear a lot of eyeliner and hoodies" which both of us found hilarious but the boys didn't seem to get the joke. Maybe because they weren't on their 5th margarita like I was. Emo said he's not sure what his type is and I figured I knew exactly what his type was, so I'm all "I bet you like the Suicide Girls, right?" and Emo is all "What's that?" and then the Kiddo laughed and was all "Dude, don't pretend you don't know! Like you haven't spanked it to the Suicide Girls about a thousand times!". And then we all looked expectantly at Emo, who actually blushed and then was all "okay yeah" and then "I can't believe you said 'spanked it' in front of your parents!" and the Kiddo was all "Meh, I've said worse" and I was all "This is true" and then I ordered my 6th margarita.

And this is why the Captain and I should win a parenting award. It's okay, you can say it....we're awesome. We're like the Jon & Kate of Texas. Except with less divorce and spiky hair.

Sunday, December 6, 2009

It's Beginning To Look A Lot Like Obsessive Compulsive Disorder

This weekend we put up the Christmas tree.


I am sooo not feeling it this year. If it weren't for the Kiddo, I wouldn't have bothered with it. But I don't want him to remember his last Christmas before college as "the one without a tree and also the one with the really bitchy stepmother". So I made Captain Carl drag the damn thing out of the garage and I set about clearing the the furniture from the front window and pulling all the fucking ornaments from the very back of the closet and damn it! why did I put all this fucking shit in front of the Christmas decorations?? Who needs three extra comforters and five suitcases anyway???

And right about then Renty walked in with a big box and an even bigger grin. Turns out he had a crap ton of his own ornaments and garland and he bought the whole thing at Sam's and it's called "Christmas in a Box" or "A zillion tiny glass ornaments that will take you forever to put up on the tree Box" or something like that. Renty was super excited and looked about 8 years old when he told me he'd love to help us decorate the tree.

well shit!

Let me explain something before I go any further with this story. I have major control issues when it comes to the Christmas tree. I like all the ornaments to be just so and that angel on top better be fucking straight as an arrow or there will be hell to pay. In short, it's perfect or it's not done. I relented a bit last year when, in exchange for their help, I agreed to keep my hands off of the ornaments that Captain Carl and the Kiddo placed on the tree. And I kept my word, even though there were about 15 ornaments that were clearly too close to other ornaments and there was a huge gap near the bottom where no one hung anything and honestly, who hangs two identical angels right next to each other???

Fast forward to today and our lives are very different than they were last year. We've had almost a full year of renters in the house and I've had to let a lot of things go so that I wouldn't drive myself and my family crazy. As I stared at Renty's face, I knew right then that the Christmas tree was going to be another on of those things. I mean, the guy's ex-wife just got remarried (I didn't tell y'all about was a surprise to him and I felt kind of bad blogging about his misfortune), he was alone on Thanksgiving and will be alone again on Christmas. There was no way I was gonna be that big of an asshole and tell him "thanks but no thanks".

So Renty, Captain Carl and myself spent an hour decorating the tree. The Kiddo was at a band function, so it was just the three of us. I even used Renty's tree skirt, which was a huge deal because my tree skirt is the shit. We started drinking about half way through the process and the Captain was blaring Christmas music and Renty was so happy that he looked like he could have burst apart into tiny divorced 40-year old man bits at any moment.

And guess what, y'all? It was really fun. And my tree looks great and I didn't move any of the ornaments and Renty watched Christmas Vacation with us afterwards and we all agreed to make gingerbread houses next weekend when his kids are here and I know that will be awesome too.

Okay, so I moved one ornament. Big deal. It was one of the vintage ones my dead Grandma gave me and the Captain put it on the back of the tree and those always go on the front. So that didn't count.

Okay, I moved three ornaments. Don't judge me.

Fine. I moved four. But that's all. And I totally did it when they weren't looking. I'm like the stealth bomber of tree decorating.

Wednesday, December 2, 2009

I Live Under An Equality Rainbow. Kind Of.

Captain Carl: (reading Meredith Baxter is gay?
Me: What?
Captain Carl: She just came out.
Me: Huh. I wonder why she's coming out now.
Captain Carl: Everyone wants to be on the gay wagon.
Me: I guess so.
Captain Carl: Hell, I'm gay. For lesbians.
Me: I don't think that's how it works.
Captain Carl: I'm extra gay if it involves lesbian twins.

Tuesday, December 1, 2009

Yes, I'm Still Alive And Sexy As Ever. Thanks For Asking.

I suck at blogging. And at dieting. Because I haven't been here in almost a week and still can't think of anything awesome to blog about. And because it's been 3 weeks and I haven't lost a single pound.

Failure, thy name is Miss Yvonne.

Also? Suck it Chick fil A. You and your delicious chicken sandwiches can go to hell. And take that "limited time only" peppermint chocolate chip shake with you. You asshole.

Also? I just read on a fashion blog today that those shrug sweaters with ties in the front are ridiculously outdated. Guess what I'm wearing today after finding it at the back of my closet and getting all clappy and jumpy because I forgot I had it and look how cute it still is? Damn it.

Also? In 3 weeks I'm going to NOLA for 4 days and just realized I have to share a suitcase with Captain Carl because we don't want to pay for two checked bags and there is no way I can take 4 pairs of shoes and 5 pairs of pants and 8 shirts if I have to make room for his shit too. Screw you, budget.

Also? I have to find some holiday spirit somewhere. Anyone have some extra they can email me or something? Because I have zero. We're putting the tree up this weekend and all I can do when I think about it is sigh heavily. Deck the halls with boughs of blah blah.

Also? It's December 1. The mortgage is due today.

Also? Marian is moving out in 15 days and we have to find a new renter.

Also? My kid lost his winter coat and needs a haircut and isn't studying for the ACT and is probably right this very minute skipping class to have sex with his girlfriend.

Also? Captain Carl bought me flowers yesterday. Just because.


Life is pretty good, now that I think about it.