Guest Post: AG From Regected Riter Provides More Tips On Scary Movie Survival

Morning Readers,

     Today I have the pleasure of interviewing my friend AG from Regectedriter. Is he hilarious? Yes. But what you may not know is he's an expert survivalist who recently wrote a pocket guide on not getting killed in a scary movie. Run into a serial killer, while getting groceries? Call AG. Talking killer dolls got you down? AG's your man. Can't get Bruce Willis out of your basement because he thinks he's still alive and acting? ...you know the drill. So, without further ado..

The Happy Helpers Club

Afternoon Readers,

     They showed up unannounced. One minute I was doing chores, and the next, I'd recruited a rag tag help service I don't remember ever hearing or asking about. It happened about two weeks ago. Just as I'd reached to open the dishwasher, a chubby hand holding a business card, stuck itself in my face. Hesitantly, I took the little piece of cardboard out of the waiving paw and read it over:

The Happy Helpers Club, Inc. 

-We "help" out -

Halloween How-To

Morning Readers,

     Did you know Halloween's only four days from now? Yesterday, as I sat and carved faces into milk jugs to set on the front porch, I couldn't help feeling the holiday had snuck up on me, again. Except, this year, our bank account's a little lighter than last year. While I secured the jugs to the railing, with twine, I did my best to brainstorm cheap, easy costumes able to be completed entirely by glue gun. But, though my nickname on the rough streets of Craftville is "Mean Melty McFelty", ideas weren't exactly falling out of my jugs. So, I did what I do in a non-crisis and tried to glean inspiration from good-mom magazines. Here's a few blurbs I'm saving to help put something together for Butch and Sundance...

Nerd Alert

 Morning Readers,
     When Husband and I go out, the general populace usually radiates around our cool. Girls faint, men set free drinks on the sidewalk, and bartenders as us if we're inconveniencing them. Recently, one young lady stopped us and asked, "Are you two super heroes?" We laughed, flexed, told her to stop shaking and that no, we weren't super heroes, but our perfect physiques and impeccably straight noses were terribly misleading. Yep, it's hard being so cool. I'll let you in on a little secret, though... we have to work at it. Mostly by having conversations like this...

An Award: And Seven Things You Didn't Know You Wanted To Know About Me

Morning Readers,

     Last week, the lovely Debra Kristi presented me with the Versatile Blogger Award. As it never fails to amaze me when another person doesn't think I'm completely insane, I was pleased as punch to receive it. Unfortunately, Debra likes to give me awards attached to hundreds of yards of red tape. If I'm to accept this award, I must agree to the following conditions:

1. Thank the person who shared the award with you by linking back to them in your post.
2. List seven things about yourself.
3. Pass this award on to 15 newly discovered blogs and let them know that you included them in your blog post.

     First off, thank you, Debra, for this wonderful award, and for trying to squeeze classified information out of me.

An Absent Mind Is....

Afternoon Readers,

     Yesterday I spent an hour looking for my cell phone. If I didn't find it, I wouldn't have it for when no one called, like usual. If I missed all my non-existent calls, how was I going to not talk to all the people who were trying to not call me about things that didn't concern me at all? After going through all the drawers, the refrigerator and propping-up the dog, I still hadn't found it. I turned to the babies. "Did you eat it?" I put my ear to Sundance's belly to see if I could hear a dial tone. Nothing. It wasn't until I went for my third cookie of the day, that I found it sitting next to the bread. I sighed an ate an Oreo. It had happened again...

Making Do

Morning Readers,

     When I got the mail, yesterday, I was delighted to see the mailman had stuffed a package that was much too large into our mailbox. Relieved it hadn't arrived in a protective box and set on the porch, away from the elements, I grabbed it and bolted back inside. Butch and Sundance were eating dinner, so it was a perfect time to slice through the plastic, dump out the contents and shake out my brand new coat. My seventeen dollar coat, to be exact. And although I'm pleased to have made such a thrifty purchase, the quality of the thing seems to be lacking. My suspicions were confirmed when I peeked at the tag, which read...

The Rare Foot Wing

 Morning Readers,
     If you ever happen to invite me over, don't leave food out you don't want eaten. Like a moth to flame, any stray brownies, meatloaf, pie or Saltines will probably meet their fate at my hands. I look fairly innocent, but turn your back and, wham...."What brownie? I haven't seen any brownies around here. You know how brownies are, probably left you for some Lady O' The Night in Vegas...

Um, do you have any milk?"

But after this past Saturday night, I'm considering revising my grazing habits...

The Uninvited Guest Part II : Rise of the Underground

Morning Readers,

     You'll be happy to know there's been a break in the case:

     Staring at the sprinkled window sill, I wracked my brain. Had we bought the house with or without poop? Flipping through the Tupperware full of official documents, I scanned the contract: Broken window, questionable carpet, one kitchen, invisible fireplace, shingles...hmm...no poop. I looked Butch and Sundance. "Barring the possibility you two pooped on this window sill, it seems our guest has shown his hand. To the Bat mobile..." The rest of the morning was spent gathering supplies and preparing for battle. By the time Husband got home, I was ready..

A Farewell To Romance

Afternoon Readers,

     On the days when I'm lying on the floor pretending my stomach's flat, I often find myself reminiscing about the days when our relationship was young -me and Husband's, not me and my stomach's. The romance, the excitement, the hours of sitting around and pretending we were really busy when we didn't know the meaning of the word. He'd look into my eyes and feign attention while I waxed poetic on the dangers of going from brunette to blond. I'd agree that video games are a cornerstone to society. And I knew we'd forever be as cute as a baby seal eating birthday cake in a polka dotted hat....until a couple days ago, when Husband jumped and yelled...

Put It On My Tab: Part II

Afternoon Readers,

     I love wasting time. Today, I decided to get it out of the way early, so I'd have the rest of the day to get something done. As some of you may remember, I've been dealing with retrieving a refund from Hospital Robs You In Your Sleep, and, as it's only been six hundred hours since our last song and dance, I thought I'd call them up and see how they were enjoying the money they stole from me.

*Ring Ring*

"Billing, this is Sandy."

"Hi Sandy, this is Mrs. Kellerman. I'm calling about a refund I should have spent last week but couldn't because you never gave it to me?"

The Soundness of Silence

Morning Readers,
     It was only a few moments after we'd driven the twins home when I called the hospital:

"Hello, this is Mrs. Kellerman. Yes, I just brought home a set of children and....what?...yes, yes, I got the right ones. It's just, they won't be quiet. Well, you see, I think one of your nurses must've turned something on by accident. They weren't like this when we stayed with you."

I was assured the noise would stop eventually, so I hung up and comforted myself with the thought that, one day, they would stop making so much noise. I must've spoken to the drunk nurse because she failed to mention a few key items. Readers, if you're under the impression that silence and children go together like things that go together...you're mistaken. For Example...

Up Close and Personal: An Interview With My Jeggings

 Morning Readers,

     Yesterday, while rifling through my shoe box of a closet, looking for something that would help me not be naked in public, I happened upon a pair of pants I hadn't worn yet....my Jeggings. For my Readers who don't know, Jeggings are the love child of jeans and leggings. Innocent enough, but, while they look good in theory, my courage to wear them has faded over time. Luckily, my Jeggings assured me they had more than enough time to sit down and do an interview. This made it ten times easier to decide whether I'd grab my crowbar and put them on, or opt for a clean sack cloth. In a riveting interview, here's what Jeggings had to say...

The Broken Record

Afternoon Readers,

     Did you know the only word you need to raise a child is "no"? It's a common misconception that a parent needs to know words like "baseball" or "whatever you need to do to learn", but those are completely unnecessary. Just, "no" and a good, broken-in catcher's mitt will do the job. Speaking of which, typing in said mitt makes it nearly impossible to reach the letter "a. I'm doing that with an old bottle cap between my teeth and what I remember from volunteering at that Magician's Who Help Magicians conference. The only problem with saying "no", all the time, is the fact that it's starting to pop-up when I don't necessarily need it...

So, Nature...We Meet Again

Afternoon Readers,

     I have it on good authority that quite a few people like being outdoors. Some even sleep in it for sport..or maybe it's for melting marshmallows...or trying to attract bears so they'll find the campsite and sentence everyone to untimely bear-realted-face-ripped-off type death. If I don't camp, I'll never see the headline:  

Kellerman woman runs into Winnie The Pooh. Won't be returning from hundred acre wood.

And although I'm not one of those outdoor people, I've made the decision to make sure my children establish some sort of connection with Nature. So I took us to a place where Nature's kept in little pens, for fun...

The Not So Handy-Woman

 Morning Readers,
     They say "Those who can't do, teach". I've always lived by the motto "If you can't do it, do it anyway, and Spackle what you can before Husband gets home." Try putting that on a throw pillow; I did, and now my finger perpetually points skyward, making me look about five times more pious than I should, but I've become accustomed to small sacrifices in the name of trying to do things on my own. Not that I don't have a little bit of talent. When I replaced the molding around the bedroom door, it looked good as new. Yes sir, building equity one, upside down piece of lumber at a time...

The Sleepy Fork Incident

Morning Readers,

     Today I'm writing to you in the dark. Normally, I do my writing the day before, but, at Husband's suggestion, I've risen before the sun and begun typing in the "quiet morning hours". The only problem is that  writing requires a certain amount of organized thought, and I've just recently discovered I don't have at 6:30am. While I was passed out, face down, all my organization drooled onto my pillow. Which is why I'm also in my bathrobe listening to Sunny and Cher, staring at our roll of paper towels. I suppose I would've slept a little better if I hadn't been reflecting on my previous day's events....