Dear Mr. Scooter Rider:
WTF are you doing on the freeway in the middle of rush hour, IN THE FAST LANE, on that effing thing?? It was irritating enough when we were in bumper-to-bumper traffic and you kept messing around with the strap on your helmut and nearly falling off every 10 feet. But when we broke free from the pack — and you couldn’t go over 45 MPH — well, let’s just say my road rage nearly got the best of me.
It would have been totally wrong to gently bump into you with my SUV, but at least my blood pressure would have been back to a normal level.
Please stop kidding yourself … that is not a motorcycle. It’s a glorified moped. And you ride your moped to the neighborhood pool and back. Just like I did when I was in high school.
P.S. If this is your mid-life crisis, you really missed the mark.
P.P.S. And don’t let me catch you in anything leather.
Saw this sign at the church where my girls attend a Mother’s Day Out program. They also serve breakfast to the homeless every morning.
Anyone care to speculate on what kind of bathroom vandalism would cause an entire PBJ lock down?
The unfriendly skies
WTF is up with all the plane crashes and near-misses lately? A plane crashed in Iran this morning… a foot-long hole “opened up” in the fuselage of a Southwest flight on Monday … doesn’t seem like a good time to get on a plane, huh?
We haven’t been traveling much these past two years because taking toddlers on planes not only makes you incredibly unpopular, it also makes you feel like an unqualified cat herder. But with all the recent crashes and emergency landings, Dan and I have discussed taking separate flights next time we travel somewhere without the kiddos. Not that I find that to be a bad idea. Might as well get a break from everyone, right?
Why senior citizens shouldn’t give birth
Remember that woman who had twins a few years ago at the age of 66? Well, she died. They are 2 years old. They were conceived with donor eggs and sperm, so they have no father or true extended family. Ridiculous. Selfish. Argh.
Taxidermy at it’s finest?
On my lunch-time cruise of TweetDeck (yes, I have a bit of a problem now … I’m hooked), I came across these photos.
Be warned. I got a little queasy when I took the time to think about what I was looking at. The last photo is my personal favorite … and a potential Father’s Day gift for Dan next year. Nothing says “we love you” like mouse-head cuff links.
P.S. I can access “F*ck You Penguin” again today. FU, IT.
My baby turned FOUR last Saturday. FOUR. I can hardly believe how fast the years have flown by. It seems as though she has instantly turned into an opinionated, funny, strong-willed, somewhat bossy, thoughtful, good-natured, emotional, sweet little person.
So anyway, we (me) threw a SpongeBob water slide party.
Thanks to Nam for spending 2-1/2 hours helping me ice this friggin’ cake! Then her kiddos got fever and she couldn’t even come over and enjoy the glory. And of course I didn’t give her any credit.
Anabella finally decided she wanted to be four. Up until party time, she was TWO, dammit.
I wanted to strangle Dan when he came home with this million-dollar water slide last summer, but it’s probably the best money we’ve spent in a long time. It’s durable, the kids will play on it for hours on end, and in Texas, we have lots of time to use it.
I almost peed myself laughing when Scarlett came down the water slide. Her expression was 70 percent “WTF? Please call CPS!” and 30 percent “I think this is fun.”
Anabella got a ton of great gifts, but this one was a big hit, which means Anabella and Scarlett threw-down over it. (For all you Noggin virgins, it’s the hat and glasses that DJ Lance wears on Yo Gabba Gabba.) The hat plays dance music from YGG when you move.
Happy birthday, Anabella. As my favorite four year old always tells me … “you’re my girl!”
The IT gestapo is at it again
First, they blocked the National Nap Month site, because reading about napping is “malicious,” and now they have blocked Kodak Gallery, because it’s a “personal network storage and backup” site. Uh huh. So? Weirdly enough, you can still access Snapfish and Shutterfly and Flickr. Just not the one site I use. WTF?
And it’s also strangely and ridiculously random. I can visit one of my favorite blogs (“F*ck you, Penguin”) one day and the next day it tells me that site is “tasteless.” You can’t email me a document with the word “f*ck” in it, but I can email my list of our 200 top executives that same document, no problem.
Bad marketing, Texas
I saw this sign last week and it gave me the heeby jeebies. WTF is up with the creepy-ass sign, Texas? I don’t mind participating in an extended neighborhood watch, but could we get a better mascot? The guy with the extra wide shoulders, teeny tiny head and crazy eyes kind of looks like one of the Sand People from Star Wars.
As I sit here writing this, I hear one of my coworkers return to the office. He’s eating something, he opens a can of coke, and then I hear him … clipping his nails??? I walk over to see why he is back, but it’s not Stephen. It’s the janitor. Hanging out in Stephen’s cube for a quick bite and some personal hygiene. WTF? What else is going on in our cubicle nation after hours?
I get joy from my children almost every day, but one thing that is really so super awesome fantastic about little kids is how much they enjoy holidays. Anabella really “got” July 4th this year, which made it my best July 4th in at least a decade. (My last awesome July 4th included me losing my hearing for about two weeks, but that’s another post.)
My friend Stasa threw a great party, complete with babysitters and lots of activities for the kiddos. And she lives about a block away from the location of the biggest fireworks in Houston, so it couldn’t have been a better evening. Anabella discovered her love of glow-in-the-dark jewelry and fire, in the form of sparklers …
… and we had an incredible view of the fireworks display. (Sorry, but iPhone isn’t equipped for that kind of photography.)
So it totally made up for having to stay in this hell-hole weather, instead of taking our usual trip to Michigan, where they are enjoying 70-degree days. (Bastards.)
Dan also cleaned our pool this weekend, evicting our two resident frogs and their million or so offspring. (He also had to kill a water spider that was apparently the size of his hand. Eeek.) Which means I no longer have to listen to frogs fornicating as I go to sleep at night. Oh. And I can swim in my pool. Yeah!
P.S. What’s Scarlett balancing on her head today? A box of mac & cheese, of course.
I received the following mass email from a neighbor yesterday:
If you know me you know I have two dachshunds that run out the door, climb under the fence or escape when the yard company does not shut gate totally. I really try to watch them but they are a handful. Thanks to anyone that has or will help me. I am at (address).
Name of Neighbor
WTF, stupid neighbor? I have personally returned your dog(s) at least five times and my babysitter has returned them twice. Once you wouldn’t even answer the door, so she opened it up and threw them in. This is what your note says to me:
I have two dogs that are a total pain in my ass and I don’t care enough to take care of them. They will probably be run over in the near future, but I’m not really concerned with that … in fact, that would be great because these dachshunds are ruining my life.
If you see them, please go to the trouble of catching them and bring them to me at my earliest convenience. Of course, I won’t do anything to keep it from happening again, so please expect to do this several times. You don’t have anything better to do, right?
The Queen of the Subdivision
P.S. Please do not touch me, look at me directly or use my name in vain.
Have any stupid neighbor stories for me? Feel free to leave a link.