Crazy vs. Stupid

Daughter comes home from work with boyfriend today. They have been to Coldstone and have ice cream cones. Teddy has a giant waffle cone dipped in chocolate with, I think, cookie dough ice cream. Boyfriend (who wants to be called Killdozer. *sigh*) has gingerbread ice cream.

They sit on the couch and Teddy tells me in a chipper voice, "Killdozer says he hates me." He is going outside at this point to fetch the wiffle ball that got chucked over the fence somehow.

"How sad. What happened." I try not to overreact since she is looking like the cat who swallowed the canary.

At this point, Killdozer comes back into the room, and says, "Just a little bit." He is holding his index finger and thumb about an inch apart to show me just how little it is. "You know, I'm not gay but I understand how guys would want to hang out just with guys."

Well, now he really has my attention. What happened?

"What did she do?" I suppose it is unfair of me to immediately assume that Teddy Bear had somehow provoked him. What can I say? I used to tell the kids a fair is where men in overalls pitch cow shit and race pigs. Get over it. They used to get so bent about mom being unfair. (Is there a mom in the world whose middle name isn't Meany?)

Anyway, he tells me, "Girls are crazy." Teddy is giggling at this point so lord knows what torment she has just put him through. But it is now making more sense. She has a talent for driving him nuts. They bicker like an old married couple sometimes.

"I have to ask. If women are crazy, what are men."

"Men are stupid." He says it so matter of factly. Like, what's the big deal. Lord help them. They have to put up a tent when they go to Coachella. We tried to put it together in the backyard. Let's just say, the first good fart and that thing is coming down. But, it was refreshing to hear a guy say that they are stupid. And it was said with all sincerity, like he would rather be stupid than crazy. Sheesh. That's nuts.

So, in the battle of the sexes, it is Crazy vs. Stupid.

There's A Crack in the Neutral Zone

Dr. F. Latus has invented a new gas neutralizing liner~! A new stocking stuffer for the man in your life. Okay, maybe a few women need it, too. No more malodorous noxious clouds emanating from the hineys of our loved ones. A pantiliner for flatulence. A gassy dream catcher.

Last night I met up with my baby brother, his wife JuJuBeez, and friends Phinelli. (I really need to come up with a name for them.) BB said that John from John and Ken on KFI found this new ad for Subtle Butt, the gas neutralizerr. Butt, I mean but, John loves to hear Terri-Rae Elmer say "Ewwwww" to all the gross things they discuss in the news, so he had an ulterior motive.

After consuming dinner, drinks, and the Mother Lode chocolate cake from Claim Jumpers, we probably all needed the Subtle Butt. Manelli said she needed it ASAP, so I suggested a hasty retreat outside to walk around.

We discussed what movies we would take to the proverbial desert island. JuJuBeez first said we could not take a series of movies, you know, like Lord of the Rings. All the geeks at the table cried foul. I told her that if she wanted to take the BBC mini-series of Pride and Prejudice that would count as one movie. I am not sure she relented but then she said she wanted a favorite old movie, a favorite comedy....Sheesh. Maybe we could all take one from each decade.

Then, of course, the women discussed which men they would want...and they could be men that had already passed away if we wanted~! Woohoo. I was crushed momentarily by the thought that so many of the men I wanted were actually the characters in movies, not the actor himself. Captain Jack Sparrow? Yes, oh yes, yes, please, PLEASE.... but not Johnny Depp. Aragorn from Lord of the Rings, but not Viggo Mortensen. I mean, I really don't want to hear what they think, I just want to play with them. What is the opposite of misogyny? If a man said this stuff, I guess I would get all huffy and offended. Maybe. But since I am quite sure if a man had a choice of any 5 women he could take to a desert island, I am positive I would not be on that list, so I can relax.

Off to dream about who the 5 men would be on my Island of Five...

I Summon Penguinis~! Take That Captain Maximum

A pudgy baggy pants Italian Spiderman with a mustache that looks like a secret weapon getting the crap kicked out of him on a surfboard (in a surf off with Captain Maximum) by babes in bikinis who uses a conch shell to summon PENGUINS to vanquish his foe and get the briefcase with the asteroid?!!

HT to Ruthless for sharing the Italian Spiderman and the Japanese Spiderman You Tube videos with me last night as we tried to bring Casey's computer back from computer hell. His computer is in the same room as Casey's, so he got tortured by us trying to fix the computer and giggling. He was on his computer playing WoW. (Now, the only reason I know what THAT is is because Teddy Bear used to play World of Warcraft, too. Until I refused to pay for it each month. I am such a brat.) He said I wasn't allowed to laugh at him because he had a headset on. Mois? Laugh? Not hardly. I have a dent on the side of my head from my headset squashing my glasses to my head. So he played WoW and we watched her computer scan, which is like watching paint dry. Good thing Casey and I never seem to run out of stuff to talk about. WoW is probably more fun but I have no CLUE what the heck was going on. I'm afraid I would be like Leeroy Jenkins in the video below. Rush out there, clueless and causing trouble. I am sure I would be banished from Azeroth....or whatever.

This Bunny Laid an Egg

The damn Easter Bunny has given my daugher a life-long fear of characters. She is 19 years old now and still will not go near a character. Mickey gives her hysterics, Pooh lives up to his name, and Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum cause fits.

When she was about 18 months old, I took her and her older sister, the Hot Tamale, to Sam's Club to do some shopping. She was happily riding in the cart and her older sister walked next to her. (They are about 5-1/2 years apart.) I had to go to the service counter for some reason I cannot for the life of me remember.

Teddy was standing in the cart next to me but I had my back to her. Her sister told me later what happened. All I heard was a blood curdling scream and turned around in time to see a 6 foot bunny rabbit jump back and rip his head off hyperventilating. (His character head. Although I did want to rip off his real one.) Dumb bunny.

Hot Tamale told me he was creeping up on us with his balloons in hand. I guess he thought it would be fun to sneak up on Teddy Bear and surprise her. Well, he certainly did that. She literally screamed like someone had pulled her head off. How does that much volume come out of something that little? She probably weighed all of 20 pounds. (She has always been a little thing with messy reddish hair.)

The Hot Tamale happily kicked him in the shins for scaring her little sister. It was not a pleasant sight. A tall purple bunny with no head, standing there, red-faced and sweating, and breathing like he was going to pass out. Poor Teddy. She was screaming so loud I had to grab my stuff and go.

So, all you mommies with the happy pictures of your kids with Mickey and Santa. Phhttt...pphhttt.... Shit. How do you make a raspberry sound.

All The Hoos Down in Hooville

Headline: "Cities Deal with a Surge in Shanty Towns" New York Times

During the Depression, shanty towns sprouted up all over the country called Hoovervilles. Not sure what they will call ours--Bushvilles or Obamavilles. Not that it matters.

Does it not make you angry with all the fake histronics about the AIG bonuses? Christopher Dodd knew damn well what he was doing when he slipped in the last bailout plan the clause about bonuses, so his fake shock is disgusting and criminal. For Congress to go after the bonuses with the power of the IRS is foul. Let them have the balls to look at the so-called sacrosanct contracts that 'forces' them to give the money for bonuses. Wouldn't you love to see the contract that lets some scumball financial wizard get a huge bonus even though his company is now jeopardizing the whole financial system? Oh, yes. Where are the great Watergate type reporters looking into that?

Every time Congress turns around, they are making a bad situation worse. Tariffs, taxes, earmarks, pork. Pelosi is a pig. Leave it to San Francisco to keep sending someone that moronic back to Congress all the time. Remember, people, this is YOUR money they are throwing around, not THEIR money. They point a gun to your head, threaten you with seizure of your property and confiscation of your bank accounts if you do not pay up. They should think long and hard about every dollar they spend when it is seized from us.

Maybe they will give some back to us because now we will be poor.

Onomatopoeia

The Yes Dance

Oh man~! Come on, bitches, let's dance~! Let's do the fork in the garbage disposal, Let's do the fork in the garbage disposal. Ding, ding, ding, da ding ding... Slow down bitch, that's enough.

Arghhh, buzz, hiss, mew, woof......

Driven Nuts

Don McLean American Pie

This song drives me nuts. This song does, too.



Most anything by Willie Nelson or the Beach Boys sends me over the edge. I probably could learn to like Willie again, but unfortunately he was my ex's favorite musician so he always played it all the time. I am a rock and roll girl, the louder the better. But I tolerated Willie for years and even learned to love The Highwaymen, but when only one person gets to choose the music for a road trip, it gets old after awhile. I remember playing some Billy Idol, Rebel Yell I believe, and totally getting all into it and thinking, man, this really puts me in the mood, when he came in, turned OFF the music, turned ON Willie and said this really put him in the mood. WTF. Who cares what puts a man in the mood? Doesn't everything put them in the mood? I was married long enough and had enough friends to know if something puts a wife in the mood, man, you better play that stuff a lot~! Maybe he was tone deaf. He certainly had no clue what music rocked my world.

So, in the end, it came down to Should I Stay or Should I Go?


Apologies to The Clash. They rock.