Potty Mouth

It all started because I've been on a quest to find a coffee mug that looks like a nuclear cooling tower.  Since Amazon has everything, they were sure to have it, right?  Instead, my husband finds this gem.  Which in his own way, I suppose it fits the bill.  As much as I love unique coffee mugs, even I'm not sure if I could drink out of this.  The Toilet Mug has all kinds of suggestions to fill the 12 ounces of space inside the uhh...bowl.  Like chocolate ice cream sundaes, chocolate milk, coffee, candy, and I would think some chocolate chips would be perfect for the veteran who wants to remember what it was like to eat MREs. 

Think of it:  it's The Oval Office for your mouth.  A throne for your tongue.  You could put your loose change in it and really flush your money down the drain.  Of course, just by buying it you're doing that already. 

Ahem.

Even worse, my husband had the thought to get one for Little Man...who actually said he'd drink out of it.  Thankfully, cooler heads prevailed.  Because that in my cabinet?  Not happening.

Dear Maura Kelly & Marie Claire

Dear Maura Kelly and Marie Claire,

Your article on the show Mike & Molly was like being strapped in a chair forced to watch 'Heathers'.  First of all, I hate movies.  I can't sit still long enough and my ample-sized behind gets bored very quickly.  The abusive train wreck you called an article was nothing short of bullying.  Even though Ms. Kelly wrote an apology, the cat's already out of the bag, hon.  I'll draw your attention to your own words:  "To be brutally honest, even in real life, I find it aesthetically displeasing to watch a very, very fat person simply walk across a room — just like I'd find it distressing if I saw a very drunk person stumbling across a bar or a heroine addict slumping in a chair."  You say you're not size-ist?  Are you fucking kidding me?!?! Maybe you should slip off your size 1s and put on 'snotty bitch'.  And to be 'brutally honest', I hope my words hurt you, Maura Kelly.  Then maybe you can feel the hurt your article evoked in those who may not be 'naturally slim' like your model friends.  Because you see, many overweight people have been hurt, bullied, and humiliated more times than you can count.  You made vast assumptions and stereotyped them with your keyboard. 

You & I have something in common, Ms. Kelly.  I don't watch much TV either.  Like ever.  You admit to never watching Mike & Molly...that's really a shame.  At the risk of sounding condescending, it's a good idea to know what you're talking about before you write.  I'm sure you could have caught an episode on You Tube or iTunes...any episode...and perhaps your article may not have been nearly as shallow as it was. It's what good writers do, even under a deadline.

I really hope that through this experience, Ms. Kelly, you can learn to put your prejudices aside.  You've taken a lot of heat from your readership on this article, and rightfully so.  It is indicative of the 'acceptable' forms of bullying that are alive and well in our society today.  Whether it was your intent or not, that is precisely what your article articulated, even after your hasty backpeddling.

Halloween Pranks: Doggy-style

Today was a typical morning.  We were busy teaching the kids their lessons when Justice scratched at the back door to go out.  He'd open it himself but we keep the doors locked.  We let him out and he plays in the backyard with one of the miscellaneous sticks he finds.  A little while later we hear a scratch at the door again, his sign to ask to come in.  I opened the door, Justice picks up his stick and takes off back into the yard.   He knows I won't let him bring sticks in the house, so I figured he wasn't done playing yet.  Thirty seconds later, another scratch at the door.  I open it and no dog.  Through the window I can see him ducked around the corner with his ears perked up.

The little turd was playing ring and run.

He did this about 20 more times, obviously amusing himself.  The amazing thing is that nobody ever taught him, he just made it up himself.  Don't ever believe that dogs don't have a sense of humor.

Getting Laid

Two weeks ago my husband was laid off from his job.  We don't look at it as a bad thing, because his boss is a putz and we look at it as an opportunity to seek employment elsewhere.  It simply needs to be managed.  That being said, explaining this to the kids was a whole other matter.  They are at an age where any deviation from the norm is a cataclysmic event.  And let's face it, it'll be fairly obvious when they see Daddy home more often.  They immediately freaked out, like we're going to be on the street tomorrow.  We spent a great deal of time explaining that we just need to be careful about how we spend money.    In other words, don't ask me for stuff.

Apparently though, the kids still think there is a giant crisis.  For the past year my husband has been back in school.  His student advisor calls him occasionally to see how things are going, and last time Divine picked up the phone.  "You've gotta help my Daddy!  He just got laid!!!"

Back to Work, People!

After a heart breaking hiatus, Mr. Desktop and I are back on speaking terms now that he has returned from the hospital.  He said something about 'exhaustion' and 'being worked to death'.  It doesn't take him nearly as long to do or remember things, maybe because he heard me say that his next fate will be one of those recycling days they have around here periodically.  (Who am I kidding?  They don't have those around here.)  Or maybe it's due to the extended vacation he decided to take and thus has more energy.  But I did have to have his mother, brain and memory transplanted to get that kind of obdience coupled with a few threats.

After he came back, we had a meeting to update him.  Since he couldn't remember a damn thing, that took all day.  Then I had to teach him how to function.  I pay for his food, which is unlimited.  In an act of kindness, his health insurance from Norton was reinstated.  I generously gave him an office with a window.  And I do allow him contact with the outside world, he just has to share it...kinda like a party line. 

But alas, there is unrest in the kingdom.  The VP of Operations laptop is resentful for having to take on Mr. Desktop's workload while he was in the hospital.  He says it's degrading that he doesn't have his own office or a desk, and wants to know why Mr. Desktop constantly needs bailouts.  His workspace has TWO windows, and a soft cushy seat.  Norton Health Insurance and all the food he can consume too. Until recently he only worked part time in the evenings.

The laptops in the education department are pissed too.  They're angry that they don't get an office with a window or a Norton health plan.  They tell me it's a 'Cadillac plan' and they're going to submit a grievance with the union.  They just don't happen to like the Kaspersky plan issued to them by said union.  They also seem to detest the Net Nanny system, muttering something about 'big brother watching'.  I reminded them that when they chose to join the army of education laptops in the union, they had to abide by union rules and programming.  They have the same food plan AND they only work 5 hours a day WITH summers and holidays off.  Let's see if they can renegotiate THAT contract!

They heard me discussing getting a personal assistant one day, so they're all miffed. They want the important job, but nobody wants to do the work required.  I'm a busy gal, you know.  I need reliable help ready at any given moment when inspiration strikes. Why is good help so hard to find?

St. Elsewhere...as in NOT HERE.

My computer needs a lobotomy, AGAIN.  We spent the week attempting to breath more life in it to no avail.  So yesterday I trucked it back to the computer hospital.  After already installing a new motherboard, now it needs a new hard drive.  While it's undergoing surgical intervention and probably a few hits from a defibrillator, I've been patiently waiting my turn for use of another computer.  Which in this house means practically all day, cutting online time really short.  With any luck, I should have it back tomorrow.   And of course, barring anymore fatal errors.  The next one may put it down for the count.

Flo Juggling

So you're a guy planning your week.   Perhaps you're considering your social schedule and which girls you'd like to take out.  What do you do?  Whip out your phone and hit your FloJuggler! 

This is, perhaps, the most pathetic use of technology I've ever seen.  FloJuggler moniters women's periods, so men can plan their social lives accordingly.  This quote from the site is priceless:  "Flojuggler is for people who care about the women in their lives. It´s a fun and discreet way to handle a fact of life. Boyfriends, girlfriends, husbands, wives, and kids ALL track hella flos."  I can just imagine it...

Kid  - Oh shit!  Mom's period is due this week!  Better plan a sleepover at Susie's this weekend...
Dad - Dammit!  Goin' fishing with my buds.
Postman - I'll  deliver those packages next week.

I imagine this nifty app just marks the calendar every 28 days.  I don't know about you, but I'm not a 28 day girl. So for a guy's purposes I'm not sure this is nearly as efficient as they think it is.  What is sad though, is that there is a use for this for women with medical situations that require them to know when their period may start.  Not one piece of the site addresses THAT, which would be this app's redeeming quality.  Which is a shame, because it would turn this into something noble instead of trashy if it was phrased as such.  But perhaps this could be a piece of hidden treasure, because it's free.  Give it noble meaning and there'd be a cost to it.