I would like to have a catchy title, but I used my last funny thought photoshopping shit

 I have been in the midst of a funk.    I just don’t know why, well I do, but they are such first world problems that I hate to be a whiny bitch.  Everything is great at home, hubby is his normal fantastic self, the girls are full of their usual Exorcist moments, bitches one second and then crying because you walked by and didn’t hug them.  (Holy Cripes, they are only 7 and 10 – how much more difficult is it going to get???)

I have a great group of friends – they are just as wacked as me, and I love them.  I am cleaning house in terms of friends and wondering why I didn’t do this when the crazy train first started.  I think that from now on, if I get that first hint, you know the one where I have to plan certain events with certain people only – I am going to cut the friendship strings then and there.  

It’s not that I want everyone to agree with me or have the same opinion.  I love having friends with diverse opinions, as long as they aren’t trying to shove them down when we disagree.  We can believe in different things, we CAN have different political opinions! 

So to that one crazy lady that is spiraling down into a flaming mass of what the fuckery, and where the sheer amusement factor in watching is better than any Spanish soap opera that I have ever witnessed, you rock on girl!  (Yes, I am going to hell – but damn my tan will look F-I-N-E). 

So what the hell is my problem??   

My biggest problems are my insane dreams of the Zombie Apocalypse.  Is it wrong to dream of the Zombie Apocalypse?  Because maybe, just maybe I could get my shit together and feel a little energized?  Kidding….kind of…

Well, with that maudlin intro – Let me tell you some of the funnier shit that has been happening lately:

Balls, Boobs and Vomit

SO CLOSE

My friend (Ro-fighter) and I were blessed with 6^th row, behind home plate tickets to the Giants.  

And what an epic night!  

It started with the crazy guy sitting next to us trying to stroke our arms and legs and his friend who tried to make up for creepy stroker man by buying us all our beer.  All I kept thinking was that my hubby was going to see me on TV with some asshat trying to touch my arm and trying to rub Ro-fighters shoulder.  

This then led to me getting a mini-standing ovation for threatening to kick the stroker’s ass.  I just couldn’t take it anymore, and whimpy Ro-fighter was saving all of her juice for her mass transit fights later.  So, I stood up, grabbed stroker’s arm and twisted it by his head yelling at him that if he touches us again, I am going to rip his arm off and beat him with it.  At this point, all of the boys behind us were clapping and cheering me on.  Stroker, realizing that some girl was going to bitch slap him with his own appendage, decided to hi-tail it out of his seat.  Of course, Stroker’s BFF tried to make it up to us by continuing to pour beer down our throats.   

Even Waldo got into the Mix!

This made Ro-fighter and I very happy, since we were more than willing to take the free drinks and then head out on our own.  On our way home, my little shit starter, Ro-fighter, decided to take on all of the Barak Obama supporters in a crowed Bay Area train, firing off the topic -  “What Barak Obama has done for YOU”.   

Holy Shit, it was like she was torturing small babies right in front of them all!  

While, Ro and I might not agree on our political affiliations, arguing with drunken people and arguing about Politics never ends well.    The only thing that saved us in starring in Throw Mama from the Train was a gigantic heave of barf.  

That’s right – our elitist butts were saved by a fountain of vomit that erupted from the girl sitting near us.  I have never seen grown people leap and move so fast to run to other parts of the train, it was ten shades of AWESOME.    So what did we do, we took a picture of it!

Oh, and we saw this couple......interesting

And this lady was VERY VERY VERY mad at Ro-fighter and I for laughing on the train.  Apparently, only deep thoughts and intellectual conversation are allowed on the train.

Crazy Train, Party of ONE

Holy Batman nuts – there is a level of crazy going around lately that makes the Riddler look like a Clozapine spokesman.  Apparently a former friend of ours is spreading a rumor that my hubby is stalking her.  He is stalking her by driving by her house every day!!  This is batshit crazy stuff, since he drives by her house to get to ours.  As a matter of fact, I drive by her house a shit load, does that mean that I am stalking her too?  I think the FedEx guy is sleeping with her too, since he drives by her house as well.  Oh, and apparently, all she has to do to get Hubby in her bed is crook a finger and he will come running to service her.  AHHHHAAAAHHHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH.

Holee CRAP – I haven’t been at this level of psycho since I was in college and my roommate, after fucking Randy Quaid, tried to sneak into my bedroom and rub their combined juices on me so that I would feel famous too.  ACK, ACK, ACK – I don’t even know what to say!   Poor Hubby, he has never dealt with this level of crazy and just walks away shaking his head.  Of course, I take EVERY SINGLE MOMENT to rub this in and will call him at random times to find out who he is stalking. 

Halloween, Halloween, Halloween 

 Trick or Treat!

Hubby and I every year attend a Halloween party put on by one of our friends.  Every year, we go as a themed couple.  One year, we were Santa Clause and Santa’s Ho.  It was awesome, my makeup was perfectly smeared across my face and Hubby had a goody bag full of Trojan Magnum’s and Ring Lolly Pop’s.  Last year, Hubby wore his fire turn out’s and I was “Naughty Spotty” – complete with black spots and a cute collar.  As we were walking into the party, I get clipped in the neck.  As I turn to try and figure what the heck was going on, I see that Hubby has clipped a leash on me.  Jackass….but funny!

This year, Hubby came up with a GREAT idea, but a little too late.  He wanted to be Fantasy Island, we me as Tattoo and Hubby as Mr. Roarke.  EPIC!  Alas, the party is Saturday.  So we will be going as lame masquerade people….do you think I can scrounge up two white leisure suits quickly??

It's a good thing that Tattoo and I are the same height!

Popping Boobies, Sugar Daddies, and calling it like we see it!

The barf apocalypse didn’t hit!  Hubby was all worried that with me going away on my “teambuilding” event that the girls were going to explode like Linda Blair.    Since we have debunked that myth, poor hubby did get stuck shuttling them around, heating up my premade dinners, and having to do their hair for picture day.    

According to the girls, he did drop the “F” bomb on them a couple of times, something along the lines of, “I am not your FUCKING mother, I will not tolerate this SHIT.” 

All worries aside, home made it through three days with no ankle biters revolting.

I, on the other hand had issues.  (Shut up bitches)  I had “work” related issues with injuries:

I had to build a boat out of cardboard and paddle it in a nasty green lake.

I had to “team build” with a bunch of engineers who were very clicky.  (which, at the end, I have to say, ended up being kind of fun)

I fell.  In the shower.  I swirlied myself around the shower.  And then landed.  On my boob.  The noise was so deafening, I think that the others in my “bunkhouse” thought there was an earthquake in Oregon.  I did not cry.  I whimpered (quietly).  As I was twirling around the shower, I jacked up my knee (it looked like I had two kneecaps) and my boob was so hard and blue/green that I was a tad bit afraid.  I was afraid I might have gangrene and/or I popped something inside.  (After note:  Visit to the doctor only resulted in medal winner for fall, no permanent damage)

I flew a puddle jumper from Bend to Portland and almost died.  Hand to God - 

the little old Abeula next to me was clutching her rosary with many, many Madre De Dios’s later, we finally landed in Portland.

Where the airport had no air conditioning, and it was over 100.  Outside the airport.  Inside the terminal it was 150 degrees with 120% humidity and 1000% filled with funk.  Fail Portland, fail.

So this past week of working away at the soul sucking office, I have noticed a few trends that I would like to share with you all.

Regarding my spam mail – Why do I have 82 emails in less than 72 hours?

Apparently, I am full of moles (you CAN remove them easily, whew), I can mingle with the Christians (no booze, no swearing = no fun), I can look at photos of senior people (ack ack ack), I can blast my belly fat with cheap auto insurance, all this to go along with a psychology program.  If this isn’t my cup-o-tea, then I can look at a truck driving career, where I can use my AARP Membership (seriously you FUCKERS, I am not even 40 yet), eat delicious lobster while checking out the scooter store.  

If all else fails in my marriage I can always date those Millionaires in the Sugar Daddy Club.   82 shitty e-mails, thank goodness for delete all.

I honestly think the end of the world is coming - between these jackasses in the news killing people lately, to the POLICE shooting tourists in NYC, to the crazy drivers only concerned with themselves, and the general douchebaggery of the public - its APOCALYPSE ON BITCHES.

And in closing, I wanted to give a huge shout out to  Kelli  at Improperly Forward.  Her little some e-cards photo on facebook made my fucking day.  After calling my MIL on her bullshit comments (over due and LONG WARRANTED) There was a lot of angst on her end for being called on the carpet.   Kelli – you are my hero!

Biz Snatch Trip

Here it comes......

Yes, that's right!  It's the dirty dose of guess what the bitches did while you were off drinking and galavanting around.  It seems that every time I leave the house for any overnight excursion by myself, one of my girls pukes all over Hubby.  This is such a familiar event in our household that my older daughter told us, “Yep, when Mommy leaves, I totally know that I am going to vomit, I’m just not sure which day I want to do it on.”  Poor Hubby!!  (Snicker, Snicker)

From Wednesday to Friday night, I will be off, flying into the wilds of Bend/Redmond Airport for a fabulous, wonderful, entertaining, twiddle tastic, corporate team building event!!  Can you hear the YA-HOO in my voice?  Oh wait, let me turn it up…woo (snore) hoo.   

Just what I want to do for three days – hang out with some of my peers while we talk about Personal Excellence!!  It makes me want to punch disco ball teeth Tony Robbins and use them as a pretty sparkly necklace for myself!

I’m sure that it will be fun, apparently I hear that we have to do some sort of cardboard boat team building event, punctuated by drinking.  (I’m hoping a lot of drinking, as I will need this to curb my sarcastic nature)

As for dear hubby, he will be stuck with vomiting girls, soccer practice, dinner, laundry, and homework for 3 DAYS!  3 DAYS – can you believe it!!  He still owes me time from when he was in the military and gone all the flippin time!

Wish me luck!

(FYI - I NEED this SHIRT!!)

Pack an extra pair of shoes and your angry eyes...just in CASE PEEPS

So, yeah, sorry about that, it’s been over a month since my last post.  What can I say……ummm…nothing, I missed you guys!

So over the past month, I have let my 10 year old daughter go on a 4 week vacation with my Mom and Dad to Montana.  They stayed on a working cattle ranch that my Dad’s cousin owns, they went to Glacier Park, Yellowstone, Blackfeet Indian Reservation and a whole bunch of other places.    Then we, as a family went on vacation and now we are finally back!

So during my time away, I wanted to share the following observations with you all:

First to my hubby – I wanted to say thanks for always driving, driving me and the girls around, driving the boat, driving me home when I am drunk and in general always driving your daisies around.   I also wanted to thank you for giving me a nose job.  I know it was unexpected, that large wake that came up and scared you but you handled it expertly.  So expertly, that I got a rug burn on my nose along with (2) black eyes.  

Not to mention the gallon of lake water that I drank while choking/laughing through the pain.  I also wanted to thank you for the multiple lake water enemas.   I can’t tell you how refreshing it is to leak from your butt for a week, I swear that tube enemas put olean chips to shame.  

Yep, here is the butt plug tool!

I also wanted to thank you for putting the idea of playing a board game for butt sex into Papa’s head.  Now every time we place Sequence, Mom and I are going to HAVE to win to avoid butt probing….NICE HONEY…NICE!  Also, thanks for pointing out to Papa that he needs the butt plug tool out of the Cabela’s catalog……I can always count on you.  All kidding aside, thanks for always being my rock, even when vacation kicks us in the ass.

To my brother and his BFF Morgan – I wet my pants.  No seriously, I was laughing so hard on the boat because of their “antics” on the tube that I WET MY PANTS.   It’s a good thing I was sitting on my towel and was able to wash off later in the lake.  OMFG….it hurt to laugh that hard.  (Pics below!)  It’s a good thing that they are good with their sexuality and it made it all the more funny, when my girls were like, “oh, that is totally inappropriate”. 

I hate vacation…every vacation starts out like a complete clusterfuck for us.  For instance, two years ago we decided to take our boat to Lake Almanor, during the drive up there our car battery died when we stopped to let the girls go potty.  Fixed that.  Then driving the boat up the steep hill caused our 2001 Dodge Durango to blow a hole in the exhaust system, then the brakes failed as we tried to come to a stop with the boat behind us, then we got a flat tire that required (2) jacks and my hubby almost got pinned under the Durango.  And finally, after driving through Dante’s Inferno (aka Redding) with no AC, some jackass almost killed us as we were driving on a levy road and he tried to pass us on a blind curved 2-laned road.  That trip cost me $50k.  So when the boat didn’t start this trip after we dropped it in the water, you can’t fault me for being Debbie Doomsday!  In the end, they always turn out fun…….(mostly)

kinda looked like this!

I wanted to give a big shout out to the tranny that was smartly dressed in her dress made of plastic garbage bags, with her tube socks and high heels.  Her big pink beach bag totally complemented the black plastic and the wig and 1950’s horn rimmed glasses were just spot on.  I also like the fact that she stopped in the cross walk to blow me a kiss.  Made my day.

For the homeless guy yesterday that was mad that I didn't give him money, the fact that you licked my drivers side window to show that you were pissed was fucking HI-larious!

To the “lady” in the cross walk in the Castro yesterday that showed me her tongue can quite easily fit between her two fingers, you made me snarf my Diet Pepsi.  And while I was not prepared for your act to either (1) capture on my phone or (2) come back with a witty gesture, I am very upset at you.  You see, I was wearing a white shirt, and the diet Pepsi stains did not go so well with my sweater set as I was heading to my meeting.

Fucking Google has EVERYTHING

To the “young lady” that was walking down the street with her underwear exposed through the bottom of her “dress”.  I take issue with you chickadee!  And it is not because of your dress, no no no Missy, I take issue with the hand print tattoos that you had on the backs of your thighs.  Now, I am sure that they were just for placement effect so that the boys know where to grab as you are doing it doggy style, but really….my eyes are burning.

Another big ol’ shoutout goes to the lady in the Baseball complex bathroom last night.  As I walk my 7-year old in the bathroom while hubby is playing, my smart ass little kid says REALLY loud.  “OMG, it totally stinks like butt in here, do they NOT know how to pre-flush”  As the lady exited the stall and ran into my kid, she totally gave me the evil eye.  Granted my kid was holding her nose and give the lady the evil eye back, I found this incredibly amusing.  Jackass, you are taking a SHIT – you do NOT SHIT roses.  You stink.(And not like mothballs, Nat)

I would also like to commend my smart ass 7 year old for the proper use of a word.  She properly executed the use of the word, “SHAW” while speaking to an adult who totally asked her a stupid question.  The “SHAW” was complete with eye roll and look of disgust at said adult for asking her such a lame question.  Now, I don’t condone this behavior and she did get in trouble, but holy shit it was incredibly funny.

Also – T-shirt Hell notified me of a few new shirts so ENJOY!!!

Dear Twatbagders.....suck it

Yes, I’m talking about you.

Oh, oh, oh, sorry, I didn’t mean you (you who are reading my blog, I know you guys are cool)  

I am talking about those asshats in the general public that we have to deal with all the time.

You, sirs, to coin a phrase from  Noa , are insufferable members of society.  

Let’s take a little test shall we to see if you find that you run into these twatbadgers while YOU are being a productive member of society.

I am thinking of forming a new club and calling it, “WAPAT”  Short for Women Against Pretentious Ass Twats. 

 I was thinking about calling it mother’s against pretentious ass twats, but just because we are Mom’s doesn’t mean that we cut out the vagina when we cut the cord.

So....let's begin the WAPAT checklist

At the park, do the other Mom’s avoid you because you let your child get dirty?  Or because you are not obsessively screaming their name and telling them how to play.    Yes?  JOIN WAPAT 

Do you get the evil eye when you are drinking your wine box juice box at sporting events (soccer games, baseball games, picnic events, farmers market outings, school plays – for those I use my “coffee” mug)  Yes, JOIN WAPAT

Do you get the hair toss when you don’t obsessively talk about how much your husband makes, what FAB-U-LOUS vacation you are going on next, or debating the merits of the next hybrid SUV vs. your new Volvo SUV.  Yes, fucking come join WAPAT

Did you get the raspy growl of disapproval when mentioning that you are going to get drunk with your fellow WAPAT’s and go heckle Magic Mike?  Fuck you bitch, I’m gonna do some seriously heckling and cat calling at Magic Mike.

Do you take close and personal shots of yourself and then go an retouch them with instagram before posting on Facebook with the tag…..beautiful…..naturally.  Yeah, jackass you are still taking a picture with your phone you twatipster .  Yep, you fucking can NOT be part of WAPAT. 

Do you find yourself in a crowd of people who like to educate you on how you should think??  Yes??  Then you can absolutely join WAPAT.  Our motto is….while we think you are one cool ass shizzle bitch, we can agree to disagree. 

Do you find yourself frowning over the whiney ass kids today and their fucking over tolerant parent….fucking join WAPAT – where we believe that losing sporting events and not giving trophies to everyone should be the norm.  It’s called losing…..get used to it.  That is why victory taste so good, because it doesn’t happen all the time you TWATS.

Do you frown at people who use words like Fuck, Twat, Twatwaffle, Twat Badger, girl wood, reverse Mormon, douchecanoe, anus cracker, wee jobby, oh I could go on forever.  If you frown…there is no entry.  No WAPAT for you!

If you tell your child, or anyone else’s child that the drink you are holding is a Daddy Soda or Mommy drink….automatic entry.

If you believe in the Zombie Apocalpyse….in a funny and humorous way and not in the Doomsday Preppers Way….You are a shoe in!!

If you like being an armchair activist and putting out calls to arms on your blog and/or Facebook, you cannot join.  Mostly because you probably are a patchouli smelling douchebag and it’s my club…so na na na na.

If you are Weenie’s classmates reading Sla’s blog, you are automatically included.   Only if she says you are cool, because I have heard some stories about you crazies!!!  Kidding….kidding !!  Keep up the good work so that you can take care of my aging parts.  I will require your assistance one day with the “jazzling”  and you fuckers better be smart.

So in closing…..While WAPAT is still in early formation, I will be closely  reviewing your application and if I don’t like you, you can’t join.  (kidding, no I’m not, well maybe I am, …well…kinda, sorta…more than likely)

And in other random news, I want to share with you the picture of my dog.  He is on his way to get “tutored”.  Yep, he is going to get his balled snipped off.  Which is a good thing because those things are so fucking shiny and in your face that they need to go.  Also, my girls keep asking questions about his shiny balls and lipstick that I am having trouble answering without snickering and using potty language.

Ahh, whose gonna get their balls cut off....whose gonna...don't look at me if your gonna....

What happens at the cabin stays at the cabin…(pffttt, bitch, I’ve got a blog!!)

Hello peeps, sorry that I have been so blah blah lately.  I have been working, and working, and working, and working at the cabin, and getting my girls ready for the end of the school year and summer vacation plans, and working, and working, and working at home, and working.

Sense the general theme here?  However, that being said, I did take the time to take part in some serious shenanigans at our family cabin.  

Let’s just say that this involved around 10 bottles of wine, 3 + cases of beer, some rather large marshmallows and 8 adults (semi adult acting).  (Well, really only 1 adult didn’t participate, he stood aside shook his head and mocked us during our low points.  But we can always count on Papa to put the idea in our heads and let us take all of the fool credit. )

Typical View

Even better

It’s a bad sign when your Mommy has to bake the cabin “neighbors” a berry cobbler to “apologize” for all of the noise and shenanigans that your adult children made at the bonfire until 2:30 a.m.  (Well, we think it was 2:30 a.m., we are relying on my sister’s using her one good focusin’ eye to tell the time)

At least this time, no one threw a wine bottle full of gas on the bon fire, and no one fell in the bon fire, and I didn’t throw my flaming marshmallow on my sister’s lap (again), no one threw up, and no one fell over into their own stream of steaming pee while trying to squat.  (I know NOTHING about this ONE…..NOTHING)  

Give me your beer BITCH

And now I've wet my pants...again.

Pony rides anyone??  ANYONE??

No one tried to play mountain golf in the dead of night and got lost, and no one got kicked out of the mountain biker bar that is down the street, and praise the baby HeyZeus, no one wet their pants laughing.  The last one gets a little difficult when you get around my brother in law, because when he is on….HE IS ALWAYS ON.  That man hurts my abs and causes me to purchase poise pads as part of my “cabin” list.

View from Back Cabin

WOOT WOOT, New Bath-house!

The Dreaded BACK CABIN

This trip, we didn’t have any “bat” issues in the back cabin!  “Bat” issues you say…..well, let me tell you.  See, the back cabin is one of those old logging cabins that you can pick up and move anywhere.  It’s a very dark box with windows, and if you have ever been camping or in the woods, you know that it gets DARK DARK DARK up there.  

So, hubby and I are lying in bed in the back cabin, we have one ankle biter in the twin bed next to us and another ankle biter across the room in another twin bed.  Hubby and I have stumbled from the bon fire and are proceeding to saw some serious alcoleholie snores in the dark dark room.  Suddenly, Hubby leaps from a prone position to jumping around the bed like some crazed dog doing butt circles trying to catch his tail, all the while screaming madly.  This causes me to rise like an autobot Stepford Wife while belting out a massive scream that would rival ANY fucking horror flick you have EVER seen.  Finally, my own screams pierce my beer fog and I jump out of the bed and scream for my hubby to quit leaping around the bed like a meth-ed out lab.  My girlies are staring at us with a “What the fuck now look??” and I get everyone to take a breath.  We finally figure out that while lying on his side, my hubby’s arm has fallen asleep.  Said arm, while sound asleep has whacked him in the face, causing him to believe that a “bat” was trying to eat him.  He was attempting to “save” his girls and attack the bat (hence the bed butt circles and screaming) Once we established that the “bat” was really his own arm, I think I laughed so hard that even my poise pad had trouble keeping up with the flow. (Damn kids).  Thank the lordy above that this trip was “bat” free.

Outdoor Shower!!  WOOT WOOT

I did shower naked under the stars, and I did fall (as to be expected a couple of times) 

Scene of the Crime

MMM...velvet cake and WINE...WINE WINE

I DID try TRY TRY to kick ass in Sequence.  Usually, my team goes down in flames (I’m usually partnered with my Mom, who at this point in the evening is giving me the one eye).  This time I was partnered with my brother and my hubby was partnered with my brother in law.  Their team proceeded to hand us our asses on multiple occasions.  My brother (Lord, love him) plays the same as my Mom….I think next time I’m gonna have to call ho’s before bro’s and partner up with my Sis in Law or my Sister for the win.  Damn those boys and their big black bad ass chips.

I did agree to eat bear meat (NASTY), I did move a ton of gravel, I got dirty, and I absolutely had a FABULOUS time with the best family ever!

And a BIG BIG thank you to the BEST brother ever...who brought my own water so we could all drink me.