Curiouser and Curiouser or Eat Me.

Ever get that persistent nagging sensation to TORTURE AND STAB A FAT, DUMB, CRANKY-ASSED, STUPID MUTHER-FUCKIN' BASTARD with grilling utensils?

No?

Just me then?

Well alrighty.




Ever have one of those days where you just want to curl up on that mushroom with the Caterpillar from Alice In Wonderland and totally bogart off of his hookah and ignore the rest of the world?

No?

Just me then?

Well alrighty.

Random What's Up Wednesday.

So here is a little random to go with your Wednesday Wheaties. Or Lucky Charms. Or Fruity Pebbles. Or Cinnamon Toast Crunch. Or Cheerios.

There is a guy named Tom Kruse that invented the Hoveround. A mobility assistance device for the physically impaired.

There is so much irony and ridicule waiting to be had in that statement that I am just going to leave it at that.

There is a commercial for a chiropractor here in my city and his name is Dr. Noback.

My daughter walked by a FedEx truck the other day that was loudly blasting country music and said, "Mommy, I really like that crunchy music!"

I was reading the great EPCOT cake comment tragedy this morning right before I posted this, when from the other room I heard odd squealing noises that sounded like a stuck pig or a teenage girl at a Jonas Brothers concert. Since I don't own a pig and The Brothers Jonas are forboden in my house, I jumped up to see what the fuss was all about. It turned out to be FCB looking at his stock ticker and doing a happy dance in his chair because he was making some money back from the slump that occurred yesterday.

Simple things get him going I guess.

Watching the news and the HYPE that is going on with the swine flu, I learned that there has been a fatality in TX. A toddler. And my heart just broke all over again. I have been following the story and the devastation that this flu is causing is just heart wrenching. I couldn't imagine losing my child. I am actually thinking about yanking Punk from school. Not only because I don't want to be exposed to this AGAIN (yes, I think I had this thing. Every symptom they are saying this thing comes with I had in excess for the last 3 weeks. I just didn't get my but to the doctor because I knew I would be hospitalized if I did and I didn't want to be. But I am on the mend, for now, and don't want to get sick again with anything else.) but because I really don't want my child to ever have to suffer anything like what people are experiencing around the world. We were both very sick with this last bout, and I don't want either one of us to go through it again.

So that is mostly what is up with my Wednesday. How about you guys? What's new with you? Give me a shout out and let me know who is still hanging in there with me.

Oh and have a great What's Up Wednesday!

Snarkivore

Yep, that's me. I eat snark for breakfast like some people eat Wheaties. Well, not Wheaties...because, lets be honest here, when presented with the choices, most of us are scarfing down a bowl of Fruit Loops, Lucky Charms or Captain Crunch. You know you do.

Don't lie.

Anyway. I need people to regularly feed my snark. Since I have been all absent from life as we know it and contagious to boot, my funny has been all starving to death from lack of regular doses of snark to snack on.

Oh there are those that recognize the bitchiness that randomly happens to me and flood my inbox with toons and jokes, but only because that can be sent electronically and they don't actually have to be present for me to chew their heads off. (I will say that since I don't get regular periods--I know, over sharing, but stick with me--I rely on other women to allow me to sync up with their normal cycle of PMS. It gives me the excuse when someone asked what crawled up my ass and died to tell them that Feisty, Meuse, Older Sister and *I* are having our monthly. Cuz we had actually all synced up to withing a week. Now Feisty is preggo, Meuse is moving out of town and OS is still wonky from the new baby. I am so confused I am just randomly mean every other day and have been gnawing on FCB's last nerve for a about a week now.)

I think I just need a little action. Anyone got a spare pool boy in a thong or a shirtless gardener they can throw my way? It would help loads. Kthnx.

So without further ado, I will share some shared funny with you. The first is a cartoon by Brian Crane. It came with the title "Pickles" and Feisty sent it to me. I giggled endlessly because it describes me to a T. I am both persnickety and scurrilous. (Click to make it larger if you are blind like me.)

The second was sent by Meuse. Just one of those emails FWDs that everyone usually deletes, but it made me laugh til I shot coffee out my nose, but more importantly, made me want to blog it all immediately. I am just a giver that way. Enjoy.

THE SPOILED UNDER-30 CROWD!!!

When I was a kid, adults used to bore me to tears with their tedious diatribes about how hard things were when they were growing up; what with walking twenty-five miles to school every morning....Uphill...barefoot...BOTH ways!! Yadda, yadda, yadda...

And I remember promising myself that when I grew up,there was no way in hell I was going to lay a bunch of crap like that on kids about how hard I had it and how easy they've got it!

But...now that I'm over the ripe old age of thirty...I can't help but look around and notice the youth of today. You've got it so easy! I mean, compared to my childhood, you live in a damn Utopia!

And I hate to say it, but you kids today, you don't know how good you've got it! I mean, when I was a kid we didn't have The Internet. If we wanted to know something, we had to go to the damn library and look it up ourselves! In the card catalogue!! There was no email!! We had to actually write somebody a letter, with a pen! Then you had to walk all the way across the street and put it in the mailbox and it would take like a week to get there! Stamps were 10 cents!

Child Protective Services didn't care if our parents spanked us. As a matter of fact, the parents of all my friends also had permission! No where was safe!

There were no MP3' s or Napsters! You wanted to steal music, you had to hitchhike to the record store and shoplift it yourself! Or you had to wait around all day to tape it off the radio and the DJ'd usually talk over the beginning and @#*% it all up! There were no CD players! We had tape decks in our car. We'd play our favorite tape and "eject" it when finished and the tape would come undone.

Cause that's how we rolled dig?

We didn't have fancy crap like Call Waiting! If you were on the phone and somebody else called they got a busy signal. That's it! And we didn't have fancy Caller ID either! When the phone rang, you had no idea who it was! It could be your mom, your school, your boss, your bookie, a collections agent, you just didn't know!!! You had to pick it up and take your chances, Mister!

We didn't have any fancy Sony Playstation video games with high-resolution 3-D graphics! We had the Atari 2600! With games like 'Space Invaders' and 'Asteroids'. Your guy was a little square! You actually had to use your imagination!! And there were no multiple levels or screens, it was just one screen...FOREVER! And you could never win. The game just kept getting harder and harder and faster and faster until you died! Just like LIFE!

You had to use a little book called a TV Guide to find out what was on! You were screwed when it came to channel surfing! You had to get up and walk over to the TV to change the channel! There was no Cartoon Network either! You could only get cartoons on Saturday Morning. Do you hear what I'm saying!? We had to wait ALL WEEK for cartoons!

And we didn't have microwaves. If we wanted to heat something up we had to use the stove. Imagine that!

That's exactly what I'm talking about! You kids today have got it too easy. You're spoiled. You guys wouldn't have lasted five minutes back in 1980 or before!

Regards,The over 30 Crowd

Rumors of my deadness have been greatly exaggerated.

While my perfect dream would be to croak right there in Disney, I actually got back home alive and well.

And then slept for 3 days.

I kid you not, this trip knocked me on my ass. Which is kind of confuzzeling, since I was sporting a fart cart the entire time and we never made it to a park before noon and left about 8pm every night.

I chalk it up to the respiratory nightmare I have been suffering through for the last few weeks and the subsequent hangover it left me with. I have been putting some serious grooves in my couch with my butt surfing lately.

So we left last Saturday, got back on Tuesday night and I slept until Friday where I groaned, moaned and creaked my way into an upright position so I could start baking the cake for my niece's party on Saturday. She is one lucky little girl...she had a party on her real birthday while we were in Orlando, and then another this past weekend so the rest of the family could come chow down and present her with more gifts. She absolutely believes that this is going to be a regular weekend occurrence. Birthdays and presents every weekend. Every 5 year old's dream.

So here is the picture of the cake that was described to me in great detail about how and what it should be made out of. Strawberry cake. Strawberry frosting. Pink Mickey Mouse wizard hat. Ears and all. Gotcha kiddo. No problems. Here ya go.

It was all that she asked for. The ears are made of rice crispy treats dipped in chocolate. I baked and frosted. Older Sister helped spackle the cakey leftover bits so that it made a bigger hat versus shaving the sides to make it a triangle. Next time I think we will shave. Less lumpy.

Oldest Niece helped with the strawberry marshmallow fondant. I had to pay her with scraps. She wasn't complaining. The stars and moon are regular marshmallow fondant. All in all a very tasty cake. That is, if you are REALLY into strawberry.

Older Sister asked me to hack into it. She said I baked it, I should cut it.

And that is how you hack into a 7 layer cake.

So now I am upright and breathing and it is a Monday. I have packing and boxing to do. We are either moving in a few weeks or a few months. Who knows. We are however going to have to do a lot of overhauling to FCBMom's house. The walls are currently urine yellow. Ewww. I was thinking of going with a sage and plum color scheme. FCB was thinking of going with a creme and beige. Everything that man does is shades of beige. He is a thrill seeker that way.

I did see a room that was done in turquoise, brown, silver and creme that looked nice though. It is going to take a complete miracle to convince the old fart to go with a color scheme that won't put a Red Bull addict in a coma.

He actually told me he was expecting on me cleaning the whole house amidst all this moving. I told him, "Keep dreaming, Dickens!"

He didn't get it.

After dumbing it down to him and explaining the connection that he had 'Great Expectations' thus the Dickens reference, he still didn't think it was funny. He thought I had come up with a new swear word for him.

Guess he is tired of Fucktard of the Universe.

Oh well. So that is what has been going on here. Sorry for the lack of posting lately. No internet this last trip to Orlando and then with the whole couch coma thing, I have been a very bad blogger.

Never fear, I have been collecting pictures and quips and anecdotes and snark and have been bloggin it 'old school' in a notebook with a pen. I just need to type it out for my dedicated readers (hopefully there are still a few peeps out there that haven't given up on me) and try not to pack up my funny in one of these boxes.

Feel free to oooh and aaaah over the cake. I did. Quite impressed myself with that one actually. I have put out some cool cakes in my time but that one really rocked. And just to prove it....

I think that last one rocks. See? Even Older Sister is happy there in the background!

I have more cakey goodness but I can't find it on the laptop, so there is what I could come up with. I am no Ace of Cakes, but I manage to impress little girls and family members. That's good enough for me.

And she's off!

Back to Disney. Again. With the whole family. Let's hope all goes well this time as we celebrate my 5 year old niece "The Princess Bob"'s birthday.

As of 7am when the family bus was supposed to pick me up, I was on the phone with my sister who had just cracked open an eye. I could hear a bear growling in the background. OOOH GOODY! I get to poke the bear. Poke. Poke-poke.

So far off to a blog worthy start.

Against better judgement of the FCB (who I think is just jealous that he can't go) I am headed out for the weekend. My reasoning is twofold. To get away from him while he has this miserable cold because he is just one Fat Cranky Bastard. And because there is an offer for me to go to Disney with free transportation and lodging and all I had to provide was a couple of meals. Done and done. No twisting of the arm needed.

I especially love going with my nieces. They provide me with endless giggles and occasional blog fodder.

And what I get to come back to? A confrontation with the school because I got a call yesterday that she had been kicked off of bus service because she missed this week at school. I wasn't about to send her while she was sick because they tend to send her right back to me, but on top of that the bus driver got pissy because they had to *gasp* pass my house every day and that messed with their schedule. WTF??? The have to pass us anyway to go get the other kid on the street and WHEN the Punk goes to school they have to stop to get her!?! What inconvenience?

I will be so glad when we move and she can start going to a NORMAL HUMAN SCHOOL.

Cuz I swear this one is run by either aliens or lower life forms in human clothing.

Hope everyone enjoys their weekend!

I'll be thinking of you ask I bask in the glow of a gaggle of little girls and cranky bear of a BIL all from the comfort of my fart cart.

Everybody now! M-I-C-K-E-Y-M-O-U-S-E!

What's Up (every other) Wednesday!

Going to try out this whole post-posting thing. If it works, I might be more regular with my WUW. Think of it as fiber-licious! (Get it? Fiber? Regular? Hello? Why do I hear crickets?)

So what's up Wednesday? How's everyone doing? What's new in your lives? Comment away!!*





*As in let me know you guys are still around...I know it has been quiet here, but I promise to do better. I have enough collected fodder for at least a dozen posts. Like you wouldn't BELIEVE what Bondage Barbie has been up to! And "How to Tye-die your Easter eggs to win friends and influence people!"

Even if you have nothing to say, post the word vert to give us all a giggle. Please? Pretty Please? (Me begging is not a pretty site. I am going to need a forklift to get the hell off my knees. And no dirty comments there about me being on my knees, Peanut Gallery.)

Cough-hack-cough

Still here and on day six of a low grade fever.

I fear I am going to have to do the one thing I have been dreading....

See.A.Doctor.

I tend to avoid them because they like to imprison me in large institutions where they force you to eat crap, poke at you relentlessly, drain you of blood, shoot you up with random medication that makes you feel all woogie and generally take sport in seeing how many times they can wake you through the night. I honestly think there is a nightly betting pool amongst the staff.

Evil bastards.

I thought I was on the mend. I actually felt mostly decent on Easter. Only a temp of about 99 and limited coughing with hardly any snot.

And then...I spent the entire night and morning laying on my couch waiting for sleep that never came and listening to the storm outside. When I did finally doze off at 5:30, I awoke at 7am feeling as though I was drowning in a sea of congestion.

I had bronchitis once. It was just a little cough. And when I went to the doctor for a little medication, he threw me in a hospital for a month because I not only had bronchitis, but pneumonia as well.

This feels the same.

I am determined to self medicate in a stubborn bout to return to Disney to help my niece celebrate her birthday.

What can I say? I am either a die hard fan or have finally lost my mind due to fever.

Oh, nice little tidbit of information that was passed along to me yesterday from the FCB. It seems that TWO! count 'em TWO! different church members called FCBSis 3 days after the funeral to tell her that I was playing video games in my purse in church, as well as picking at my feet and yawning throughout the entire FUNERAL.

I immediately called FCBSis to explain what actually happened. I was actually looking at pictures on my digital camera of FCBMom. Just flipping through, remembering. During the REGULAR SERVICE. I also adjusted my shoe. DURING THE REGULAR SERVICE. My feet hurt from all of the standing. There was a lot of standing. I was wearing the wrong shoes for all the standing. FCBSis only stood up about half the time. We all have various medical issues which make standing a lot, difficult.

And the yawning?

Bad heart=bad circulation. That means that my heart doesn't pump strong enough to get a good blood supply going through my body. I always yawn. A.LOT. It's called lack of oxygen. I actually got a good look at my self in one of the ornamental mirrors in the church after the service but before the funeral. I was pale. Sheet white actually. And my lips were a lovely shade of blue. This happens often. People actually freak a little when they see me turn blue. Family is used to it, but it makes for an interesting party trick.

FCBSis said she understood and wasn't judging. The entire congregation is a bunch of gossipy busybodies anyway. I wanted to clarify that I wasn't disrespecting her mother.

I am not a church person.

Those people were lucky it didn't start hailing frogs just from me setting foot in their church.

The church that FCBMom contributed over $75,000 in the last 10 years.

By the end of the service the entire family was scoping out the place to see what we could get away with walking out of the door with. After all...we paid for most of it. I would have taken the damn ornamental mirror off the wall, but it was probably too heavy anyway.

So we are still sorting out the FCBMom stuff and it looks like we are going to get her house in the end. Which means I am moving in a few months. Joy.

The good thing in all this is my Punk gets to go to a really great school that is one block away from where we will be living.

Oh and I inherited the FCBMom/Dad's Jazzy mobility chair. That alone is going to save me $65 a pop ever time I go to Disney because I will no longer have to rent a fart cart.

So that is the situation going on here. Punk has the sickies too, but doesn't seem nearly as miserable as me. She refuses to take ANY medication and is just as happy and energetic as usual. I am medicated to the hilt and still can't breathe. Sucks.

So dear readers...if there is anyone still left out there...what is up with y'all? I know I am a day early for What's Up Wednesday, but lets be honest...I am not as regular about that as I should be. I just figured I needed to post something before people started asking where MY funeral was going to be held.

Alive...barely.

Just in case y'all were wondering.

Funeral on Sunday. (I took notes)

Baptism of a niece on Sunday. (Torturous meanness from my mother and an asthma attack that is still happening from smokers both at the funeral and the baptism.)

A week of not being able to breathe laced with a migraine that could bring that burliest of manly men to their knees. Add a dash (oh who am I kidding, my toilet and I are now on INTIMATE terms) of vomiting and light and noise sensitivity and you have me! The life of the party I assure you.

So fear not faithful readers. I will be back.

I just need to get over this pesky heart failure crap WITHOUT an inpatient hospital stay.

Cuz hospital food sucks.

Oh, and in case anyone was curious...it took a lot of drugs and a pair of dark sunglasses just for me to be able to be upright long enough to type this out.

So I will leave you with a little funny that happened on my recent trip to Disney.

We were in the boat at Small World when a little boy of some foreign origin (they weren't speaking English) really, really had to pee. The dad lifted him over to the side of the boat and the little boy did his best fountain impersonation. For a little squirt he had a good arc and did a damn good job of not getting any in the boat. I guess where they were from, any port in storm would do. Water is water right?

Yet another reason why you should keep your hands inside the boat at all times.

Yeah, I'm just fat and lazy that way...

While waiting in line for the Dumbo ride last night with my daughter, a woman with two small little girls (that were dressed to the nines in the whole princess get ups that cost $250+ at the Bibbidi-Bobbity-Boutique) told her daughters that I was fat and lazy.

Let me just clarify that situation a little shall I?

I was waiting in line sitting on my EVC (Electric Convenience Vehicle) and I was waiting behind a mother in an electric wheelchair who very obviously had Parkinson's or MS or something else that made her shaky and debilitated. The ride operators were very courteous to us and tried to make sure we were taken care of with respect and care and to make sure our ECV and wheelchair would be waiting for us when we got off. They of course let us on the ride before the throng of people waiting to make sure we didn't have any problems with people rushing us or knocking us over.

The little girls, seeing that we were being allowed on ahead of them, asked their mother why we got to get on first. The mom told her daughter's that the first lady (she was working on getting into a Dumbo right in front of us) was sick and needed help to get on the ride. Then she pointed at me, sitting on my ECV right in front of them, and told them that the only reason I got to go on first was because I was cheating and just too fat and lazy to walk and stand in line like everyone else.

I realize she was probably (in her mind) trying to teach her daughters some sort of lesson on health and nutrition and exercise...while failing miserably at teaching them a lesson in human dignity.

Well the woman on the Dumbo heard the whole remark and spoke up in my defense. She told the lady that just because her disability was visible and apparent, it didn't mean that they could see mine. Some people are disabled with out any outward signs. That there was obviously a reason I was using the cart and more than likely wished that I was healthy enough to not have to use it.

I could have hugged her right there.

I started bawling like a baby. (In my defense it had been building all day with the sadness from FCBMom and the frustration at using the fart cart and the meanness that comes so easily to some people in this world.)

I got on the ride. Sucked up the tears so that Punk didn't have to watch me cry, and enjoyed the ride.

Me and Punky and the Wheelchair Lady and her daughter then all sat and watched the fireworks. We didn't say anything to each other.

But I know she knew how absolutely grateful I was for her random act of "Shut the fuck up, bitch!"

It's over.

FCBMom has passed. It happened shortly before 7am this morning. I know she was just waiting to go home to die. She didn't want to be in a home or a hospital. The last time I saw her on Thursday she was sitting up in bed and smiling and remembered my name. That was the last time my daughter saw her. She was more like normal Grandma then than at any other time in the last couple of months. It was the last rally before she went to be with her husband in the ever after.

Yesterday morning, looking down out of the window of the hotel room (we are in Orlando on spring break Disney trip), Punk said, "Look Mommy, there's Grandma down there!"

I asked her if Grandma was waving at her.

"No Mommy, she is going away."

This morning I got a phone call at 6:50am. It was FCB calling to tell me it just happened.

Punk jumped out of bed and went to the window of our hotel (a different one than the night before which is a long story for another post), looked down and said, "Ooh look Mommy! There are footprints!"

I asked her if she saw Grandma.

"No Mommy, the footprints are Grandma's and Grandpa's and they are going away."

She never met her grandfather. He died a couple of weeks after I found out I was pregnant.

Somehow I don't think I am going to have to explain to her what happened to Grandma.

I think she just already 'gets' it.


I am glad I was able to give the woman 5 years of happiness with her only granddaughter.


R.I.P. Adrienne. You are finally without pain, and reunited with your Love. You are home.