Kindling A Relationship With My Kindle

Afternoon Readers,

     The great thing about kids is they can literally smell when you're trying to enrich yourself, and then do their utmost to stop it. I personally enjoy being critically uniformed. For example, I love being the only one at parties who doesn't know anything about art, literature, or which celebrity has kicked meth. It makes shouting, "Who needs more cocktail weenies?", more convincing for all involved.

     Eventually, I'm asked to leave or "bus the tables" if I don't want to lose my green card. People forget that I'm supposed to be someone important...and that I'm a US citizen... mostly because I can't enrich myself enough. If I could do that if my kids would just let me read more, but they don't.

I Made Friends, and Now They Want To Give You Something

Afternoon Readers,

     Hold the phone, people...I just found the "radio" feature on my iTunes. It's disco from here until the end of this solid gold, sparkly platform shoed post....

     Now then, I don't know if I've ever introduced you to Anna, the mastermind behind My Life and Kids and the awesome Finding the Funny (which yours truly participates in, every Wednesday) but, unlike me, she runs a highly respectable blog establishment. She's organized, funny, and does craft projects with her kids. From what I can tell from her pictures, she has great hair.

A Brief Tuesday

Afternoon Readers,

     I hate to continue the trend of brevity this week, but I have an article staring me in the face that keeps squinting and whispering, "Would you just finish me, already, and stop dipping those peanut butter cookies in your chocolate milk? It's obscene."
    
     With promises of giving you something fantastical tomorrow, I leave you now with a clip that should make your day. Grace over at Camp Patton emailed me another, equally as funny clip, and, since it made my day, I felt the need to spread the laughter along. If it doesn't make your day, you're underwear may be on backwards and prohibiting you from enjoying anything.

Until Next Time, Readers!

Leopard Print Robe

"Like I've told you before, I can't look at you in that thing. It's like a leopard's eating you from the shoulders down."

Afternoon Readers,

Because I'm feeling a little under the weather, I might have to be a bit brief today. It could be the pregnancy, or perhaps the half-pound bag of Twizzler's Pull n' Peel I ate last night, or even the horror of having my new neighbor spot me in my leopard print robe over this weekend.

Judges say:

50% Pull n' Peel
40% Robe incident
10% Floral print pajama/Fender t-shirt combination spotted under previously specified leopard print robe

-1% blaming on the pregnancy, as this baby is so much more well-behaved than the others, I'm thinking of raffling off the twins and starting fresh with this one.

Fanmail Friday: I Don't Care If You're Ugly

"If I hadn't left my letter opener in my glove compartment, I'd know what was in these envelopes."

Afternoon Readers,

     It's been a while since we've done Fanmail Friday, so I thought it was time to get caught up. Also, thank you for being patient with your queries;  I know it can be a little trying, typing in your questions, being inadvertently directed to my website, and then having to wait for me to give you advice. But you know what they say, my dear Readers, "Every cloud has a silver stitch in time on a Friday" ...I'm fairly sure Abe Lincoln said it first.

So let's get to it. Your most burning questions this week:

The Goat Pen

A picture of me and the twins heading to the zoo. I look great in brown, obviously...

Morning Readers,

     Like FDR once said, "The only thing we have to fear is goats." That's why I hardly ever expose myself to Nature. That, and I also have a pretty poor grasp of history. I've said it before, and I'll say it again, goats weren't put here to be friends with us. They have less respect for us than blowfish, and that's really saying something. But, seeing as yesterday found us at the petting zoo, once again, I had to pick a pen to let the twins play in, and the one with the neediest animals seemed the best choice.

     Kick my children into the enclosure with the Bald Eagle and risk exterminating the species and a huge government fine, or let them fair with goats their own size? As I watched Butch and Sundance skip merrily through the gate, my warming heart told me I'd made the right choice.

The Woman Can't Stop Eating

"I just wanna take all the cookies and shove them in my face."

Afternoon Readers,

     Lately, I've found it's a little bit harder to blog than it used to be. Not because I don't love it, but because my ever-expanding self can't seem to stay focused long enough to put a paragraph together. For instance, I got up this morning, determined to speak to you guys about the single most important factor in consistent economic growth and waffles....er...see what I mean?

     Readers, you tune here because you want the hard-hitting news, the nitty gritty on political upheaval, whether Kathy Lee and Hoda are still getting along in an alcohol-induced haze of odd-coupledom, but how can I do that when my mind keeps straying to food?

Junk Mail

"It says I'm an instant winner. Marge? Saddle up the donkey, we're headed downtown."

Morning Readers,

     Besides food to eat, shelter over my head, and cable, I really have nothing to look forward to. Don't cry for me though. Cry for my sports bras. Now those are garments I really feel bad for. What with the stretching and the screaming and me weeping on them all the time...eh em. My point is, as a stay at home mom, I have few things that knock my socks off, on a daily basis. So, when the mail gets here, I put on pants and skip all the way to the box. At which point, I usually wave the stack of paper at my neighbors and yell,

     "I've got mail just like Tom Hanks. I'd say "like Meg Ryan", but everyone knows she's not America's Sweetheart anymore."

I Am That Mom...

"Welcome to "Not letting your kids fall off of things 101"..."

Afternoon Readers,

    You know the one. The one that looked right at the Walmart greeter who told me that my kid needed to stay seated in the cart, and nodded politely but didn't listen. Because my children don't fall out of carts. Whose kid falls out of a vehicle traveling one mile an hour and sustains any type of damage?

     Today, April 10, 2012...I am the woman who watched her son go ass over tea kettle and smack his sweet little head on the floor. The good news is he's fine. The better news is there were, at least, three employees who watched this transpire:

Letter From the Editor: Not Here Today....but you better come visit.

Hold on, Kelley. I'm coming. I just have to figure out how to put my work on a disk and brush my mink.

Morning Readers,

     I'm so glad you stopped by, but I'm actually visiting Kelley over at Kelley's Break Room . She kindly invited me over to help restock the Big Red and scrub out the microwaves. She's super nice like that. If you have a minute, pop over and come hang out with me.

     In the meantime, I hope all of you had a fantastic Easter weekend, and I'll see you all back here tomorrow...:)

Until Next Time, Readers!

Get Your Hands Off My Bunnies

Afternoon Readers,

     Just popped in today to wish you all a happy Easter weekend. In a style I find becoming only to Husband and I, our weekend is being kicked off with a little, good old fashioned identity fraud. So, to whoever hacked our Xbox and charged lots and lots of stuff...just know that Jesus saw you. And He's rising this weekend, so there's something to think about.(That, and you shouldn't ever try to be me; it's a scary place inside this noggin, a horrid mess of bad jokes, Gin, and poorly chosen spandex.)

     If identity fraud isn't enough to make your hare (get it? Easter play on words) stand on end, do yourself a favor and also avoid the candy isle at Walmart, or any major super center for that matter. Yours truly went out under cover of night, in order to procure baskets, chocolate bunnies and eight pounds of jelly beans. I also picked up some stuff for the twins.

Stupid Is As Stupid Does

"Did I kill it? Marlene, let me text you a picture of my new trophy skirt."

Afternoon Readers,

     Ya know, you try and try to tell people something and they just don't listen. And when they don't listen, you have to get up in their grill, shove a shoe in their face, and make them listen. And then they look at you and start crying out of all eight eyes, saying, "But I didn't know any better."

     And then you have to look them in the ugly face and say, "Death comes for all of us, and your taxi just pulled up."

     You know what the sorriest part of it all is? That the last thing these fools see is what a great buy those gladiator sandals with the jewel on them were, right before "Payless Shoes" gets stamped all over their furry bodies.

Refreshed

After the hour was up, everyone went back to being mannequins.

Afternoon Readers,

     I'd say the number one thing people accuse me of, besides stealing their paper, is how refreshed I look. Often times, while walking down the street, strangers will put a hand out, nod in my direction, and say, "I just want to shake the hand of the most refreshed looking woman in town. What's your secret?"

     Most the of the time, I just wink knowingly and reply, "Wouldn't you like to know?"

     And then they shout, "Yes, that's why we just asked."

     To which, I reply by spilling my tinkling laughter all the way down the sidewalk, as I jog away, abs tightened, the enamel on my teeth glinting like a very recently polished chrome bumper....

     Oh, you want to know what my secret is? How you too can wake up looking the Apollo or Aphrodite that you are? Alright, just this once...