Do you want to know what happened yesterday?

I went to pick up Caden from after school care. This was only his second day of school ever, and his first day of the after school care at the YMCA, which is right there on campus. Anyway, I walked into the class and the YMCA girl asks me who I was there to pick up. I say Caden, she immediately tells me that he's not there.

What do you mean he's not here?

She says no, he's not here, someone picked him up already.

Hm. Heart starting to pound now.

She gets on her little walkie-talkie to ask the other girl, the one that goes to collect the Kindergarteners when school lets out. No, she says, the teacher said someone picked him up after class, he hasn't been here.

My hands are shaking as I call his dad to see if he picked him up early. My mind was racing, my sister? His dad? No, they would have called me. They would have called me.

Then the girl says

"I'm sorry, he IS here. I got his name confused with another boy."

Fuck you, you stupid fucking twit. Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you. If you don't know the kid's names maybe you should verify information before telling a mom that her kid is not there. Do you have any idea how many awful scenarios can cross a parent's mind in a fraction of a second? I hate you, you stupid fucking brainless asshole. Fuck you.

and fuck your stupid walkie-talkie, too.

Ok, here's the 411.

My son is sick. He's got a fever and may be delirious. He's repeating lines from That 70's Show and laughing every time Fez talks.

I might have to get rid of the music thing over there. Streamload/Mediamax isn't working so well. I suppose I could leave Gary Jules up there forever. That would hardly be worth the $10 or whatever I spend on that.

Now he wants to watch Cops because he's never seen anyone get arrested and he wants to see what it's like. I don't know if this is such a great idea. We'll see, I guess.

(oooo, the post already says 8:00. exciting)

For the record...

Butter Pecan ice cream is not good. I realize now (too late) that it's Pralines and Cream that I like. Good thing I didn't buy the big one.

Damn.

Sure wish I had some Pralines and Cream.

Seriously, who takes a picture like that?

So I'm flipping through the Sunday paper, reading the ads and the comics (several days too late) and I see an interview with Ashton Kutcher in the Parade. I'm not finished with my soup so I start reading it. He says he's happy now, doing what he wants to do. He says he was (or is, I guess) the middle child in his family so he spent most of his life trying not to cause trouble. And I'm all, did I just identify with Ashton Kutcher? Fuck.

haha!

I was totally going to update but when I went to choose a song I found Streamload doing an update or some shit. I always change my song when I post so obviously I can't post, right?

I bought an 18 pack of Tecate last week and there are only two gone. I'm slipping in my old age, I think. I had planned on having a few more over the weekend but never got around to it. Have I told you that I don't like to drink beer when I eat? Have I told you that I don't like to drink beer and walk at the same time? Well, drink anything and walk, really. Ok, I really just don't like to walk. Especially all the way across fucking BERKELEY.

So, no song this time. Sorry.

Keeping it real.

I just told my son that my neck hurts and he replied "well, Mom, you're just going to have to deal with that."

How do you think he'll like it when I say that to him next time he falls off his scooter? "Mom! My femur is sticking out of my skin!" "Well, Son, you're just going to have to deal with that." Maybe I'll offer him a bandaid, but that's it.

My kid is an ass.

Obsessed with myself.

Remember when I told you guys about the Fudge Lover? I have become increasingly consumed by finding out something, anything, about the Fudge Lover. I mean, that was over a year ago. I park near the Fudge Lover every day and I have yet to even catch a glimpse of the Fudge Lover. I don't even know if the Fudge Lover is a man or a woman. I've had some ideas thrown at me: she's a white woman who likes black men, he's a gay man, she's a really fat lady who really just loves fudge. I'm starting to think that I will never know.

The other day I took a peek into the car and saw a black and silver travel mug and a tupperware dish from Ikea. This tells me NOTHING. Then I started thinking, I use a black and silver travel mug and I have that same set of tupperware from Ikea. (It was $2, dude, I couldn't resist) So I wonder. Am I the Fudge Lover? I do love fudge. Who doesn't love fudge, you know what I mean? And the similarities don't end there. I will say I've never slept with a black man, but even though it's technically impossible for me to be a gay man, I have taken it up the ass on quite a number of occasions.

That's not true, I've actually never taken it up the ass. I just thought it would be funny to say that. It was funny, right? You were shocked and you covered your mouth. Admit it.

We've got to pray just to make it today.

Yesterday I saw a car with a license plate frame that said

Can't Accept Jesus?

then the plate itself said

DOWNUGO

That dude's not beating around the bush. That's a pretty clear message right there. It was on a brand new E55 though, so I'm thinking I should look into this Jesus thing. Seems like a pretty good deal. Plus, I already have an advantage because the other day I saw a bumper sticker that said Jesus loves me. Imagine that. He loves me. And I've never even met the guy.

I seriously can't post.

I keep starting posts and when I think too much about what I've written I imagine reading it on someone else's blog and rolling my eyes because it's so lame and boring.

Lame and boring.

That is my life.

You don't really want me to post. Trust me. You don't want to read about my cat's birthday, right? You don't want to read about my kid being a smartass. You definitely don't want to read about my masturbation exploits or my penis tattoo.

So just sit back and listen to some comedy.
Laugh for me. I need a good laugh today.

And you wonder why I don't return calls.

It's never ok to begin a voicemail with "I'm glad you didn't pick up..."
and not explain why.

We're American. We always change things to suit ourselves, right?

I say we officially change the spelling of

would to woudl

your to yoru

it's to it;s

the to teh (this one's already in motion, tahnks hax0rs)

oh yeah, and thanks to tahnks.


This woudl greatly improve my typing skills. I appreciate yoru support.

I hate my FM transmitter.

I was zoning out on my way home from work, listening to the radio and not really paying attention to it. Suddenly I realized I was tapping my fingers to Stayin' Alive. Really. Isn't that gross? I hate that song. I don't know how in the world a man can sing in a higher pitched voice than I can.

(Stuff it, Turkeyblog, I don't want to hear any comments about my "operation", ok?)

Hey, show of hands here, when you hear Stayin' Alive do you automatically think of the movie Airplane? I do.

You are SO not my peer.

I have to go to jury duty today. Aren't I the lucky one? So when I don't answer any emails today, don't be offended. Sure, I hate you, but that's not why I won't reply.

I hope I'm on the jury for a person who reminds me of someone I hate. I'll be like "Yeah, she's guilty. Guilty of sleeping with my boyfriend senior year! That bitch is going to prison."

That would be fun.

I was looking at the website, checking my jury status (since we all know I don't need directions to the courthouse, right?) and did you know that you can't even bring your knitting needles in with you? God damn! What am I supposed to do all day?

I'm going to be bored and my cat is going to be cold.

This made me think of Terra.

Music all over the place. Not just in the park.

I went to see Xavier Rudd on Friday. (No Yoj, that wasn't a dream)
It was very cool, of course. A little different this time, since I was driving, but still cool. He even amazes me when I'm sober. I'm putting up one of the live tracks for you to listen to. I'm actually still listening to them, trying to decide which one to use. AS WE SPEAK! We're not speaking, are we? Oh, on the live CD he just said "Thanks for all the good energy guys, it feels great up here" and he said that same thing to us on Friday. What a dick. He's a total liar. I didn't feel any energy there at all. I did, however, smell a lot of pot and sweat. That was gross. They don't blend well.

I'm going to see G Love tonight. Fuck yeah.

and speaking of spiders...

I killed a huge spider this morning. It was huge, and black, and thick. I was walking by and saw it on the baseboard by the front door. I stood there and stared at it for a while, knowing I had to get it but not wanting to make a move. It was like The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly; I could imagine the camera on my eyes, squinting, then cutting to the spider’s thousand eyes, all evil. (come on, whistle the music now) So, I sprayed some Fantastic on a paper towel, which made me feel like I was trying to kidnap the spider instead of kill it. I went a little closer and stared at the spider for another minute. I just couldn’t bring myself to reach my hand out, so I sprayed it with the Fantastic and when it fell to the floor I threw the paper towel on top if it and started pounding it with the Fantastic bottle. It worked. I persevered and the little fucker died. I even dislodged a leg. Which sucked because then I had to make sure I wiped up the body and the limb.

I fucking hate spiders.

It pays to advertise.

So, I keep getting these advertisements from the La-Z-Boy Gallery with their weekly specials and what-not. Stuff like “Hey, buy two chairs and we’ll give them to you for only fourteen thousand dollars, instead of the usual nine thousand dollars apiece” and gibberish like that.

You know, because they’re so expensive.

Anyway, what makes me raise an eyebrow is the flyer that says “Come in now and we’ll give you an extra 10% everything in stock, excluding chairs.”

Excluding chairs? What the fuck. Isn’t that what they’re known for? The chairs?

That’s like The Shane Company saying “Hey, come on in and we’ll give you 20% off everything in our store, except diamonds.” Lame.

Oh, and Tom Shane? You might want to look into a new spokesperson for your company. I know people who practically sprain their fingers trying to change the radio station every time your commercial comes on. We hate your voice. Get off the radio.

I'm such a tease.

I thought about posting but decided just to change my song instead.

Jehro is what would happen if Bob Marley and Jack Johnson had a kid.