Hello and welcome to the MENTAL HEALTH HOTLINE.

If you are obsessive compulsive, press 1 repeatedly.

If you are co-dependant, ask someone to press 2 for you.

If you have multiple personalities, press 3,4,5 and 6.

If you are paranoid, we know what you are and what you want. Stay on the line and we'll trace your call.

If you are delusional, press 7 and your call will be transfered to the mother ship.

If you are schizophrenic, listen carefully and the small voice will tell you which number to press.

If you are depressive, it doesn't matter which number you press. No one will answer you.

If you are dislexic, press 69696969.

If you have a nervous disorder, please fidget with the # key until the beep. After the beep, please wait for the beep.

If you have short term memory loss, please try your call again later.

And if you have low self esteem, please hang up. All of our operators are too busy for your shit!

Saturday, June 30, 2007

Horny Bastards are Frothing At the Bit

Okay, I'd love nothing more than to satisfy the insatiable needs of blogland (I'm a tramp like that!) but honestly, my "ASS," as my Mother so kindly puts it, is currently owned by a rather demanding individual (not Daddy Dearest, poor guy can't remember the last time he got some "ass"...was that too much? oh well, you asked for it).

Anyway, since my darling daughter insists that she needs to be the center of attention for most of the day... what is a mother to do? I thought about putting her in the baby sling and hanging her off the side of the desk, but unless I super-glued the pacifier in her mouth, I'm afraid she'd still object.

On the up side, she decided to develop a sleeping schedule. For three days in a row she was going to bed a little before midnight & sleeping straight through (minus a couple of feedings) until 9:30 am. The down side? We let her sleep all of one day because we were rearranging the bedroom and now that wonderful sleep schedule went out with the dirty diapers. Back to SQUARE ONE... which is just to the left of HELL!

Good thing is that Ell now has her own personal corner in the bedroom. Bad thing is that she refuses to spend any time in the bedroom unless she is asleep on MOMMIE'S BED!!

... on a lighter note, I'd like to publish this letter ...

Dear Mr. Postman who was sleeping in his vehicle at 3 PM in the park,

I now know why my mail is always late!!

Thank you!

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...
I was tempted to blare on the horn as we passed him, but then I decided he was only delivering bills so who the hell cared.
... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

So our lives have been filled with tons of intellectual conversations.

Case in point:

*on trip to Nebraska*
Daddy Dearest: That tower looks like it has ping pong paddles on it!
Daddy Dearest: Oh Wait! They're bottle caps!
Daddy Dearest: Nope! They're modern indian drums!
Daddy Dearest: They just automatically go off on schedule
Daddy Dearest (in American Indian voice): Teepee burn down, Squaw run off, Horses die, Casino go under, We eat hogs, I sell my hair, Make good Tampons!! (by now voice is East Indian)
Me: *laughing hysterically, throws notebook on car floor*
Daddy Dearest: Release everything! Can't hold onto this! Must focus on breathing!
Daddy Dearest: Rub belly pat head, rub belly pat head, rub belly pat head! SHIT! Rub belly rub belly rub belly!!

As you can see, our car was clearly leaking some form of toxic gas into the vehicle which created this strange state of non-sense delerium. Not convinced! Try this conversation on for size:

Daddy Dearest: *something about Cantaloupe*
Me: We can too elope!
Daddy Dearest: No we can't!
Me: *Discussion about telling people we're already married*
Daddy Dearest: *Comments that we could stage a wedding complete with rented tux and dress*
Daddy Dearest: We'll even rent the bouquets!!
Daddy Dearest: OOOHHH!! I want a bOOOOOkie!
Me: *laughing hysterically* You're DELERIOUS!! *more laughter* bOOOOOkie!!
Daddy Dearest: bOOOOOkie? I don't know no Bookie! I don't read BOOKS!!
Me: *laughing & trying to speak*
Daddy Dearest: Mrs. B!!! (refers to a previous conversation not worth mentioning)
Me: *more laughter & tries to comment* B-b-bo...
Daddy Dearest: (interupting) BOO! Boob! Boobobee!!
Daddy Dearest: "Hi! I am BOOBOBEE!!"
Daddy Dearest: Let's name our son BOO-BO-BEE!!

Now, as much as I would truely love to blame these non-sense conversations on toxic gases, recreational drug use, or 80's flashbacks, I am reluctant to admit that this is just a fact of our lives. Even now, the insane subject matter continues to haunt me.

If you have watched the new animated series "Lil' Bush" this will be a lot more hilarious too you, but in case you haven't I'll give you a little background. The series has Bush Sr. as president and all of today's politicians are just kids. The character Lil' Cheney goes around constantly saying "Raar, raar, raar, ((random statement)), raar, raar!" That being said, this insanity has trickled into our brains and has become the new "silence breaker" in our home. When there is nothing to say (or we're too braindead to form logical conversations) we simply spew off these random statements...

Raar, raar, raar, POTATO CHIP raar, raar
Raar, raar, raar, MOO COW raar, raar
Raar, raar, raar, WHIPS & CHAINS raar, raar
Raar, raar, raar, CRYING BABY raar, raar
Raar, raar, raar, SCARY CLOWN raar, raar
Raar, raar, raar, CANDY BAR raar, raar
Raar, raar, raar, STRIP POKER raar, raar
Raar, raar, raar, UGLY NEIGHBOR raar, raar
Raar, raar, raar, JUNE BUG raar, raar
Raar, raar, raar, CABAGE PATCH KID raar, raar
Raar, raar, raar, ANAL SEX (Was that too much? Sorry!)

You get the drift! It's been mind boggling around here!

And on a final note... let me leave you with some lyrics (sung to some symphony that I knew until I tried to think of it!)

If you are in the other room, then you will hear me,
If you are in the other room, then you will hear me,
I'll scream out loud
I'll scream out loud
I'll scream out VERRRRYYY LOUD!
Where is my blankie?
Or my binkie?
Or my baba?
Where is my blankie?
Or my binkie?
Or my baba?
Where is my BABA?
Where is my BABA?
Where is my BA-BA-BAAA?
Oh no my tummy
It hurts when I throw up...

So, yeah... You can thank Daddy Dearest for not only giving up the computer, but babysitting for the last couple of hours so that I had time to entertain your selfish asses!! And just in case the thought crossed your mind to critisize... his poker check came today and all I can say is "SHUT THE FUCK UP! HE MAKES MORE ON THIS COMPUTER THAN I MAKE IN TWO MONTHS OF WORK SO HE CAN HAVE IT ALL HE WANTS!!" Besides, if you checked your site meters you know I've been here, I just haven't been in the state of mind to think of something creative!

So now I've taken time to satisfy your blogland needs (leave the money on the dresser!) if you don't mind I'm going to go satisfy myself (selfish bastards didn't even offer me a kiss!) But honetly, I have a patriotic manicure that has been in the making (one layer at a time) for the past five hours (just enough time for one coat to dry between Ell's screaming fits). So if you don't mind, I'm going to go paint the stars on my right hand and consider painting my toe nails with pretty spring flowers.

So put your damn clothes back on and lock the door on the way out!!

FOR SALE: Bottled baby puke and dirty diapers. No questions asked. All sales final. Product may vary.

Thursday, June 21, 2007

White Women CAN Jump

So here I was outside minding my own business. We had just got back from town and the front door was still propped open. When I turn to go inside, THIS is what I saw trying to enter my house!! 13 inches of this!!!

Needless to say my daughter has quite a set of lungs and we found out today that she inheritted them from me. SCREAM? Yes I did. Like a GIRL!!


All the while I was standing on top of the bench on our front step. Exactly where this creature sought to hide after being chased from the house!


I cleared the flowers and landed several feet into the yard!!

Monday, June 18, 2007

Sunday, June 17, 2007

Happy Father's Day

Just thought I'd let you know there are a couple new pics up on Ellie's site. Make sure you scroll down to check out how she fell asleep the other night. Seriously, she screamed if I tried to move out of that position. I finally convinced her I could lean her against my legs, but she wouldn't let me move my hands from under her arms. YES!! SHE'S SPOILED!! But seriously, who wants to listen to her scream when all she wants is to be held?

Hope you enjoy. If you're Dad deserves it I hope you called (or at least sent a card)... if you're Dad's a JACKASS, I hope you got the chance to flip him off (or at least curse his name under your breath).

Have a great one!

Friday, June 15, 2007

Freaky Friday!

Well, I'm home on out of school suspension for lude acts in the school boiler room.
(Funny, Coach didn't think they were lude when it was just the two of us down there last week!)

For the most part, I'm enjoying a break from the boring routines of the public education system. (Plus, I don't have to sneak off to the bathroom for my afternoon cocktail.)

Today we had to take the beautifully deceptive screaming demon in for her Well Baby Check-Up. Turns out that I did NOT give birth to a "Spawn of Satan," I just have a little girl with a sore mouth. (maybe it's just a ploy to keep me from selling her on Ebay because the thought definately crossed my mind).

So today little Ellie got her first medicine. She gets 1 drop of Tylenol every four hours and 2 mL of goop in her cheeks 4 times a day for the next week. I figured she was going to be a real pill about taking medicine, but it turns out she's an instant drug addict. I put her drop of Tylenol on her tongue thinking it would come right out, but instead her eyes lit up, she smacked her lips and licked the tiny bit that was on her bottom lip. Okay, so maybe I'm jumping the gun on the whole pail-killer junkie. I'm sure it was just the grape flavoring that sparked her interest. (Then again, we're still waiting for the paternity results from the running back!)

Considering that my day started at 7:30 AM you'd think I'd have a whole lot of brilliant knowledge to share with you. Sadly, the day has just drug along like a pimple on a snail's butt.

There were a few key highlights like my incredible brain-fart at Wal-Mart. Here I am counting carefully as we shop to make sure we don't go over what I have in my purse because Daddy Dearest left his checkbook at home. I've got it figured to a tee. I rounded everything up and was right on track. WRONG!! Clearly I have lost the brain cells that have to pay taxes (they are probably sitting in some Federal Prison for tax evasion) and I obviously forgot that you have to pay for those three Father's Day cards you have in your hand (but they're just PAPER!!) So thank goodness for Daddy Dearest and the $5 that went on his VISA card!!

Heading home we are stopped next to a little school bus (or as they prefer to be called "length-challenged educational trasportation vehicle"). On the front end of this bus is a bar-like apparatus that looks as if it is designed to break your kneecaps upon impact. The bar is hinged to open straight out in front of the bus.
--I turn to Daddy Dearest and ask, "What is that? A plow you over at the knees bar?"
--He responds with a perfectly straight face, "Haven't you seen those before? They swing out like so *swings his arm* and apparently they are designed so that when a car hits it, the car is stopped or transported to another dimension!"
Come to find out it's actually a crossing guard to prevent kids from walking too close to the front end of the bus, but I still like the idea of transporting drivers to another dimension which Daddy Dearest says must be like hell since everyone there damn near plowed into a school bus.

Speaking of highlights, here's one for you:

Dear Miss Twenty-Something Pharmacist at Wal-Mart:
Just because I'm shopping in Wal-Mart does not mean I am some white-trash wellfare case of a Mommie. (Okay, so I'm white and I get some State assistance, but you're just jealous!) Anyway, I'm not stupid that's for sure. So clearly if I thought my child was ill I would take her to the doctor before I asked some Medical School drop-out what I needed to do (Thus the reason I said "The DOCTOR recommended an OTC treatment!") I have a presciption for the yeast in her mouth and if you would actually speak to me rather than using the cashier as a "go-between" you would know that! And while I'm at it, I've been lucky enough to have never had to deal with ickiness down below, but even I know (with my inferior intellegence) that my daughter does NOT have Athlete's Foot on her bottom! Now I know why I get my presciptions filled by a REAL pharmacist on the other side of town!! Please contact the cheap online degree program that educated you in common medicines and tell them you need a refresher course.

And to top the day of, I went in this afternoon and had a tire patched up. I learned that getting a patch costs 1/4th of what my tires cost. Seems like a lot to me, but hey who wants to spend $48 when $12 will do the trick! Anyway, not the point. The point was, I swung by to see if they could squeeze my tire in after I ran to the bank. Sure enough that wouldn't be a problem. They aired me up and I ran off to fetch some cash since I had previously gone over-budget at Wal-Mart (damn taxes anyway!). I get back, hoo haw, boring, jack it up... yippy there's a locking nut, good thing the socket was in the trunk... seriously, who's going to STEAL my tire? Anyway, everything goes fine, it was just a nail, he found it quick... bing bang we're out of there quicker than a quarterback leaving a boiler room! So why am I boring you with this story? Well because, I go to pay the man $12.88 with tax.

Mechanic: Would you like a reciept?
Me: No, don't worry about it. (I don't think there's a guarantee on patching a tire)
Mechanic: Well, if we're going to skip the paper work, how about we just skip Uncle Sam too. That'll be $12 even.

Now see, this is why I live in small towns. Granted, the man might someday end up sharing a cell with the part of my brain that was shopping in Wal-Mart today, but the guy won my business in the future.
Even though it was only 88 cents.
Even though he might not do the same thing next time.
Even though the government would probably give him a life sentence an $10,000 in fines for that 88 cents.
It's not about the 88 cents, or saving a buck three months from now.
It's about knowing the value of a customer and not nickling and diming everyone to death.
It's about just being generous sometimes.
It's about a round of drinks on the house and a Christmas bonus for your employees.
It's about a hand shake and an honest living.
It's about sitting down for dinner at the end of the day.
It's about family, neighbors, and community.
It's about holding your head up and loving your life.
It's about all the things that used to be right about this country before big business and climbing the corporate ladder became a priority.
It's about $12 to feed his family and 88 cents that will light up my daughter's eyes when it's in her piggy bank, but it's really about the values of people today.

That being said, I think it's about time for me to catch a quick nap. Seems the Coach isn't the only one with a few tricks up his sleeve. Turns out that he had no idea his star quarterback can't add two plus two! I reacon he'll be needing some of my "special" tutoring if he's going to be eligible to play in next week's big game. And since the Math teacher happens to be a good "friend" of mine, I don't see how anyone else will be able to do the job as well as I can. I have no doubt that I'll get a full pardon from the Principal come Monday morning.

Some parent's are driving around with
"My child is an Honor Student"
bumper stickers.
Other's are proud to announce,
"My kid might not be an Honor Student but he can kick your kid's ass."

As for my mother? She got herself a bumber sticker that says,
"My daughter might not be the Head Cheerleader, but she still screwed the whole team!"

Since when is being a slut considered a crime in this family?
(Or for that matter... drunk, junkie, head-case, loser, bum, asshole... the list goes on and on.)

Tuesday, June 12, 2007


Sorry I've been slacking so much on this blog lately.

It's just that satisfying the whole damn football team is very demanding when you have a newborn at home. On top of all that, there's a long list of paternity tests to run to find out which of those uniformed "hunks" is Ellie's daddy. I'm hoping it's that hunky linebacker with the deep blue eyes, but as long as it's not the same one that knocked up Chris, I'll be okay.

So, I'm only one girl and the blog kinda gets put on the back burner because I just can't do everyone... I mean EVERYTHING!

When I'm not auditioning to be the next Playboy Bunny, I'm trying to keep this apartment (and the people who live in it) somewhat sane (I use that term lightly). Unfortunately, since I was certain my latest photo-shoot was going to pay off, I kinda let things slack off around here. Now I have kitchen kooties running rampid in my house. There will be some definate extermination going on soon.

I was finally able to convince one of the football players that Ellie was his daughter, so last night he watched her & cleaned up some of the trash around this place. I figure if I convince a different one of his teammates every week, I'll have free housekeeping through the summer.

Anyway, Chris seems to be down in the dumps lately (still waiting on her VD test results after she heard about her post-game celebration in the boys locker room) so I thought I'd pay one of the underclassmen to write "Chris didn't do it" on the football field in diesel fuel. That oughta cheer her up.

Other than that, there's really nothing new around here.

OH! Yes there is! I've officially renounced my religious beliefs. What tragic event would make me do such a horrible thing? I watched Comedy Central the other night!!

WARNING! The following material may be offensive to those with strong religious beliefs and frankly I don't care because I'm warning you in advanced. If you keep reading past this point, you revoke all right to be pissed off about anything you read. If you do choose to complain, I will only point and laugh at you like I do my own family when they start ranting about something ridiculously stupid.

Those who know me well are aware that I have no problem with your invisible man in the sky. I have no problem if you go out every third Tuesday and worship UFO's. I don't care if you dance naked around an old oak tree during the full moon. I'm okay if you get you religious teachings from the wise words of Mother Goose. I'm perfectly content with my spiritual beliefs and so long as your beliefs let you sleep well at night, I'm perfectly content with yours as well (unless you bring your beliefs over to my house and let them shit on my front lawn. In which case I'm likely to kick you and your beliefs so hard the Pope will feel it).

That being said, Comedy Central has changed it all for me!

There I was sitting on my couch contemplating how Mary Poppins is the Anti-Christ when comedian Dane Cook starts talking about his encounter with an atheist. It was this little skit that totally took all of the enjoyment out of the theory of reincarnation. Just my luck, things would happen exactly as Dane describes. I'd come back as a beautiful tree in a peaceful forest. There I'd be happily enjoying my breezy treeness when some ugly, sweaty jackass would stroll up to me with a frigging axe. He'd chop me down, drag me off through the mud, take me to the mill where they'd cut me up to make paper. There is no frigging way I'm spending my next life as the HOLY BIBLE!! Just dig a whole and feed me to the worms please!!

And now, just to test the true loyalties of my visitors, I'm going to post a picture I took a while back. Yes, it is a real book. It is really in my house. And no, I am not in the least bit offended by the fact that this book is in my house (However, you might be!)

. . . .

. . . .

. . . .

. . . .

I warned you!

. . . .

. . . .

. . . .

. . . .

I completely understand at this point if you feel the need to never visit my site again. In fact, if the thought crossed your mind, I highly suggest that you follow those instincts because you are obviously way too uptight for me to handle. So GET OUT!!

And if you are the type that feels a desperate need to pray for my immortal (and obviously misguided) soul... please save it for someone who wants your saving. I personally believe that all the people I like will end up "down under" and frankly, I'd be miserable in a place where everyone was happy and make-me-want-to-puke cheerful!

As for the rest of you... did you notice that every third letter spells out "LIE"? Hmmm... very interesting! But like I said, you could take your "teachings" from Mother Goose's Nursery Rhymes for all I care. So long as we can agree to disagree... we can be friends.

That says a heck of a lot considering I'm not even "friends" with half of my relatives.

You must be special!

Gotta go now! I hear the boys are a little down in the dumps over their last game, so I'm sneaking out of study hall to have some fun in the janitor's closet. If you see him headed back there, do me a favor and tell him the toilet in the girl's bathroom is overflowing. That should buy me enough time. Thanks a bunch!

Friday, June 8, 2007


Read my FRONT DESK ----------->
Leave me a comment to tell me how far you actually got.
I'm curious to see how BORED you really are!!

I'll give you extra BOREDOM points if you not only read the whole thing, but take the time to actually click all of the random links (some of them really are worth a click).


Sunday, June 3, 2007

Welcome Home Grandma & Grandpa!!

Hope you had a great time up by the Great Lakes!! Let us know when you make it home. We love you bunches & tons!!

Baby Ellie, Mommie Kori & Daddy Dearest

The Cost of Birth (2007)

Just thought these figures would floor some people (like my Mom)

This is the cost of our pregnancy. Thankfully, insurance will cover it all so Mommie & Daddy don't have to live in the "poor house".

$ 40.00 - Pregnancy Test
$ 70.00 - Hormone Level Test
$ 170.00 - Ultrasound 1
$ 170.00 - Ultrasound 2
$ 102.00 -Consultation/Family History
$ 130.00 - Prenatal Visit
$ 220.00 - Ultrasound 3
$ 200.00 - Ultrasound 4 (sex/health)
$ 64.00 - Glucose Testing
$ 68.95 - Labwork
$ 50.00 - Prenatal Visit
$ 252.00 - Ultrasound 5
$ 2500.00 - Delivery (Doctor)
$ 62.18 - Post-delivery Medication
$10843.48 - Hospital Bill
GRAND TOTAL: $14,942.61

Not counting Ellie's $2000 hospital bill or the follow-up exams!

Maybe they should print this out and give it to all high school students as a form of BIRTH CONTROL!!

Friday, June 1, 2007

Quick Facts About Ellie's Birthday

May 9, 1960 - The FDA approves the world's first commercially produced birth-control pill, Envoid-10.

May 9, 1914 - President Woodrow Wilson issues a presidential proclamation that officially establishes the first National Mother's Day holiday to celebrate America's mothers.

These are my two favorite facts about our daughter's birthday... one is just IRONIC... the other is just COOL!!