Despite my love for sweets, (see love letter to Funfetti cake mix post below!) I'm pretty proud of myself for not being 300 plus pounds which I could easily gain if left alone at a 7-11 overnight. Do I want to stick my head under the blueberry slurpie nozzle, turn that lever and shotgun that sucker like a kegger? Yes. Yes I do. With every fiber of my being; however, I refrain because I care about my health! (actually I just haven't had the opportunity because the damn cashier is always eyeballing me when I start to circle the machine.)
At this point, do you think Jon Gosselin sweats dirty vag water? I know we throw the word 'douche' around in jest but I think that the universe has agreed with the masses for once and is turning him into an actual douche. If he starts growing a plastic spout of his ass, we'll know my theory is true.
I got so busy the other day that I actually told my poo to stop bothering me and come back again later when I'm not so busy. Like it was a Mormon knocking on the door or something. Well, no that's a lie, I would never tell a Mormon to come back later.
Last night I woke up around 2:45 a.m. and thought I smelled meat. I know - don't walk away yet, it gets better. I'm sitting there trying to determine what the smell was. It wasn't overpowering, it was just a hint of a smell. So every possible reasonable explanation goes through my head in about five seconds, 'did viking hubby just cut a fart with some extra stank on it? (no, because the smell didn't make my face want to eat itself which is usually my reaction when hubby lets one go). Is the dog breathing on me? (no). Did we leave a frying pan on the stove and maybe it's turned on slightly? (hmm, possibly.) So the next logical thing is to go check it right?
Well this is where you and I are differ. My brain made a U-turn out of logic town and heads to Tom Cruise's Xenu House of Crazyville because then I start thinking, well - what if this is some kind of ploy (by ALIENS. I know....SIGH...) to get me out of bed (double sigh) so they can electroshock me and put heated pokers up my bum? Fun for Tom Cruise sure, but for me, not so much. I swear, this TOTALLY made sense to me at 2:45 a.m. In my head, I was certain that in the alien handbook on how to attract and abduct humans, cooking meatloaf on low heat topped the list. It was nothing by the way, I ran to the kitchen, didn't see anything and ran back to bed. Because you know,...aliens can't possibly catch me when I'm onto their sneaky cooking schemes and scurrying quickly.
And yet, after all that, I still can't wait to watch THIS MOVIE.
I twitted the other day that I think I am allergic to PTA moms and actually I felt kind of bad about that because I'm sure most of the moms in the PTA are lovely people. So let me be more specific. The things about the PTA that causes my eye to twitch uncontrollably and make me wish for tourettes syndrome are...
* those in the PTA that emphasize and drag their vowels ...'oh that's greaaaaat.' 'Oh that's absolutely daaaarling.' 'Hey yooouuuuuu, how have you beeeeen? Oh wondeeeerful!"
* those in the PTA who can't differentiate whether they're talking to adults or children, so they just talk to everyone in the same, condescending baby talk. And usually, it's the same people who drag their vowels. They're a hoot to have a forced conversation with.
* those in the PTA that treat the planning of a bake sale fundraiser with the same seriousness as feeding starving children in Africa. You're selling homemade cupcakes girlfriend, not rebuilding a village in Darfur. Take it down a notch.
* those in the PTA that give me the side eye because I can't volunteer for 50 events in one week. I have a thing called WORK and Facebook to do when the munchkin's in school. Piss off.
* and finally those in the PTA that can't handle a tasteful dick joke once in a while. (when its just the adults around of course) God forbid I interrupt your fascinating monologue on how much better your child is than some other mom's kid, THEN when said mom comes around you smile in their face and tell them that they're just daaaarling.
Sorry, I got kind of ugly there didn't I? My apologies. My panties get into quite a bunch when I'm denied my sub-par dick jokes.