Birthday Greetings

Below is the card my husband gave me for my birthday on Monday. Take a moment and see if you can figure out what my issue was…

Me: Love the card, but why is our daughter’s name on it?

Him: Because the presents are from her too.

Me: So you think it’s appropriate to sign a 2 year old’s name to a card about sex? You couldn’t pick up a card from her to “mommy” instead?

Him: Oh. I didn’t think of that.

Shoot Me Now

My birthday ended in a major whimper when Entertainment Tonight informed me last night that I share a birthday with Elisabeth Hasselbeck. WTF?! She is only one step behind Nancy Grace as far as I am concerned…actually, she might have passed her by and taken top position as the person I hate the most on TV. It isn’t her ultra conservative view points that bother me as much as her inflexibility and her non-stop, ass-kissing, love fest with George Bush. She defends everything he does and quite frankly, I find that more annoying than I find him these days.

Then, this morning I find out that I actually agree with something Donald Trump said. (Next, hell will be freezing over.) Here is his quote. “… As far as Elisabeth Hasselbeck, I’ve always said she’s probably the dumbest person on television, but when she called me … obnoxious, she was probably right.” You are right, Donald. She is dumb and you are definitely obnoxious.

More on my birthday later. The hubby actually gave me some good blog fodder over the weekend.

Joyeux Anniversaire! Chronia Pola! Hau`oli la hanau! Isten eltessen!

Happy Birthday weekend to me! It used to really stink always having a birthday on Memorial Day weekend, but now I just choose to believe that my birthday is a national holiday. Go me. So, since I am all knocked up, the plan is to get a major sugar high. I might even eat my entire cake. Which would amuse the hell out of my friend Kelly and give her a new story about me and pastry. (Her current favorite story is how I ate a whole pumpkin pie one Thanksgiving.)

So anyway, here’s a fun way for us all to celebrate. The first person who can tell me what four languages I have used to say “Happy Birthday” in the title of this post, will win a prize. Don’t ask me what the prize is…I just decided to do this…but it will probably be some birthday gift that I don’t dig very much. My trash is your treasure. 😉

I probably won’t post again until Tuesday (it’s not like anyone is reading blogs this weekend anyway), but before I sign off, I would like to say HAPPY, HAPPY birthday to No Cool Story, who happens to be my EXACT same age…37…ummm, I mean 29. And to my loved ones who also share a May 28th birthday…sweet little Lauren, my aunt Cynthia, and my sister-in-law Stephanie…Happy Birthday to you all!!

Another excuse not to exercise (like I need one!)

I can’t stand it when exercise equipment is sweaty from someone else….so just the thought of finding dirty underwear in, on, or near my exercise equipment is enough to keep me away from the gym f-o-r-e-v-e-r.

Check out the link below for a story about a family that opened up their punching bag to find it full of men’s and women’s underwear…some of it “USED.” Apparently, it was quite smelly in the bag. Talk about a TKO.

Oh, and the best part is that the company representative said is was “a quality problem that they were dealing with.” Ummmok. How is it a quality problem when someone decides to fill your product with underwear instead of sand? Sounds more like a “dumb ass” problem to me!

“What the F*ck?” Wednesday — Nuts and Cracks

I was reading in my local paper yesterday about a “nut fry” in Wisconsin, which they cleverly pointed out did not have cashews or peanuts. Apparently 300 people got together to eat goat, lamb and bull testicles (and they paid $5!). Yum. My favorite part of the story is a quote from an attendee named Butch, who likes his nuts between bread with tartar sauce. According to Butch, testicles taste just like meatballs. “After a few beers, you can’t really tell the difference.” Uh huh.

An online version of a Houston paper recently published the top 10 passwords…sometimes it seems like the media is more about helping criminals than informing the rest of us (did you get the YouTube video about how to “tap” deadbolts?) So here you go, all you identity theft jerks. Not that you needed help cracking our incredibly clever and well-thought-out passwords.

10. (yourfirstname)
9. blink182
8. password1
7. myspace1
6. monkey (RaJ???!!)
5. letmein
4. abc123
3. qwerty
2. 123456
1. password

Fun with Stats

It’s been a long time since I looked over a Stat Counter report for my blog, but after careful review today I came to two conclusions.

1. Some of the searches that brought people to my site are funny, and some are incredibly disturbing….

Funny: “crazy baby sitter”

Disturbing: “rotting dog corpses pictures” (I promise I don’t have any…don’t ask me how this search turned up my blog!)

Funny: “throwing up barfing vomiting puking”

Disturbing: “sauerkraut juice” (Only Omar’s friend is supposed to care about skj!)

Funny: “accidentally took 2 prenatal vitamins”

Disturbing: “Elmo cursing” (Is their Elmo cursing at them or vice versa?)

2. When you look at the pages these searches pulled up, it’s some of the funnier stories on my blog…kind of a “Best of” The B.S. Cafe.

My babysitter eating a pound of salami, letting my dog eat baby puke, my husband accidentally taking my prenatal vitamins….it really doesn’t get any better!

Here’s to you, Jeff Ruby

It’s not often that I am completely impressed by someone I don’t know, but Jeff Ruby has definitely won my respect. In case you haven’t heard the story, he is the owner of a restaurant in Louisville, Kentucky, who refused to serve O.J. Simpson during the Kentucky Derby. (Here’s a link to the full story:

It makes me feel good to know that somewhere in our crazy, bassackwards world, there is still justice…well, sometimes. Karma is really starting to kick O.J.’s ass, and I couldn’t be happier about it. He didn’t get to publish/profit from his ridiculous book about how he “would” have murdered Nicole Brown Simpson and Ron Goldman, and now some brave man stood up and said “No! You will not be treated like a celebrity in my place of business.” So kudos to you, Jeff Ruby. It’s refreshing to see someone ACT on their values.

But, P.S….watch your back. As O.J.’s idiot lawyer, Yale Galanter, so eloquently put it “”He screwed with the wrong guy, he really did.” Apparently, O.J. isn’t above threatening people. Shocker.

TV’s Subliminal Powers at Work

The hubby comes into the bedroom around 2:00 a.m. this morning, waking me up as he gets into bed….

Me: Why are you up so late?

Hubby: I fell asleep on the couch. Next time, please turn off the TV before you go to bed.

Me: Ok, but that might have pissed you off considering that you were still watching it when I went to bed.

Hubby: Oh, well, I had a really bad nightmare. And when I woke up, one of those infomericals for Viagra or Cialis was on.

Me: And what does that have to do with anything?

Hubby: I was dreaming that my stuff didn’t work.

Me: Wow, that is scary, but I am sure your “stuff” is fine.

Hubby: Want to check for me?

Me: (silent)

Hubby: Ok, then. Sweet dreams.

Open up my head and LET ME OUT

Welcome to Post #101 at The B.S. Cafe. I would like to tell you that I haven’t posted for a week because I wanted to make this entry special, but the truth is that I’ve been a bit of an emotional wreck (thus the title of this post, from the Dave Mathews Band song “So Much to Say”).

So this entry will probably look like mental vomit to all of you sane and non-pregnant people, but it’s cheaper than therapy and I am usually nothing but smiley faces and kisses and puppy dogs, right?

It all started two Sundays ago. The hubby and I were in Destin celebrating our anniversary and we decided to drive by the house we got married in. We turned onto the street, and it was GONE. All that remained was an empty lot and a pool full of dirt…apparently the house was a victim of Hurricane Ivan. For some reason (pregnancy hormones?), I was really upset. Not as upset as the people who owned it probably were, but it was a special place to me…and I had big plans of a 10th anniversary celebration there with all of our closest friends. I know we can rent another place in Destin, but it sort of felt like the universe took a huge dump on the party I had envisioned in my head.

When we got home that evening, my most beloved cat Eddie (who had been suffering from kidney failure for the past few months) died. Again, I don’t know if I can blame it on hormones or not, but I was really torn up…still am actually. He had been such a huge part of my life the past 12 years…and it felt silly to be so sad over a cat, but there I was. Boohooing for days on end.

Then came my granddad’s birthday on Wednesday (he died last time I was pregnant…from kidney failure…coincidence?!). He’s been gone for 2 years, but I get teary when I think about him. His death was a surprise to me, even though it probably shouldn’t have been, and I still wish he could have met my daughter.

So come Thursday, I just needed to get really drunk. And of course being pregnant that isn’t an option, so I was forced to sit around and FEEL everything. Which made me really mad at the universe. WTF universe?! Isn’t it enough that I am tired all the time, and fat, and swollen, and just trying to be a good mommy and wife despite the fact that I have felt like crap for this entire pregnancy?

To top it all off, my favorite talk show host Ellen DeGeneres has been doing her show from a hospital bed and practically bragging about how many pills she’s been taking all week (she hurt her back). I never thought I would be envious of something like that, but no one deserves a pill more than me right now….damn you, Ellen!