OH, shit. LB learned how to say No.
Happy NO NO NO NO NO Year to us!
May yours be filled with yes yes yes yes.Read more
Mrs. Flinger goes Thursday Thirteen (again). My Thursday Thirteens are public and can be found here.Read more
We had a date night. A DATE NIGHT, people. As in, no baby, a movie, coffee (without chasing the toddler) and dinner. IN. A. BAR. With a drink! And.. did I say this? NO. BABY.
Sad thing is, there are a few things that are different now that we’re parents. Like…
My battery is dying. (Literally) I’m whiped out. It’s midnight. It’s been an emotional few days. I’ve had two glasses of wine and now I decide to blog? Hellya. I may say something I regret but Internet! I need you!Read more
I’ve been held captive by the family. Please send for help.
In the mean time, enjoy a short clip about the end of the world as we know it. Peace.Read more
Y’all, I wanna wish you the happiest holiday… Merry Christmas! I know I, for one, will be off making the yule tide gay. I sincerely wish you the greatest holiday with your family and friends and loved ones. Peace on earth and may all your children sleep through the night while visions of winning the lottery and stickin’ it to “the man” dance in your heads.
May all your friends understand your emails and take nothing wrong.
May all your dogs not crap in the garage.
May all your house guests use the spare half bath to do their makup and... Read more
Our Christmas tree has turned Mary Kate (or was it Ashley?) Olson and stopped eating. It refuses water. It will not drink even though the basin is full. The little needles are beginning to dry out and become brittle and fall. It doesn’t have long now.
This sounds a wee bit more appealing, to die a little every day, then put up with the current living situation. I will go apeshit and my head will spin three-sixty and fire will begin shooting out of my eyes. Don’t push it. Seriously.Read more
tits boobs turned three years old. That’s right, folks. Three years ago these puppies braved the knife and took off about one to two pounds per boobie. (I’ve been informed that while they are smaller, they still do not perk and thus are not “tits” but rather, the saggier counter part “boob”.) While I was informed that getting the reduction may cause me to have trouble breast feeding, I wouldn’t trade my decision for two minutes. Honest to god, you people who think bigger is better are just sorely wrong. I’m...
Here’s my Thursday Thirteen! I’ve done it before, but I hope to be a regular:Read more
Let’s be honest here (because since when am I anything but?), I hate confrontation. In fact, I hate it so much, I’d rather bitch about you on this here blog than tell you in person. Well, “you” not YOU, since you read this blog, I’m not talking about You, but rather, “you”.
So, I get these emails yesterday. People in my life, I dunno, caught on that I’m pissed. How’s that? Is it because I hide my feelings like Paris Hiltion’s cleavage? Is it because I stand out like midget wrestling? Is it because I wrote more than a few... Read more