I think they're getting Bruce Willis to play it in the movie.

I got some new mascara at the store the other day. It's unstoppable. This concerns me a little bit. I generally consider myself to be stronger than my make-up, but I think I'm going to watch my step around my make-up bag in the morning, just in case.

But Randal did The Wrangle.

I just finished watching Clerks 2 and I just have one thing to say. They did it backwards. They should have had the better quality film back when they were younger and thinner and had better skin. I would have appreciated the grainy black and white this time.

Guilty pleasure

99.7 FM used to be an oldies station that I liked. It's now Movin' 99.7 and it sucks. However, it's still programmed into preset number eight on my stereo so I sometimes mistakenly put it on when searching for something to listen to on my drive. I'm usually in a daze when I drive so I occasionally leave it on way past the point of decency. They play a lot of music that reminds you of the roller rink in sixth grade. This morning I heard I Wanna Sex You Up. And yeah, I left it on and listened to the whole song. Shut up, you'd do it, too.

Hey, listen to this one.

I was behind a minivan today that had an advertisement for All State Insurance on the back. Like the person driving was an agent or something. Anyway, the tail light was broken. I thought that was kind of a bad sign. I don't know about you but that doesn't leave me with a good feeling about All State Insurance. Sure, they say I'm in good hands, but how can I be sure?

I want to be this cat.

The beginning of the end.

Has anyone noticed that I totally hate blogging now?



And Jeremy, I swear to god if you comment that blogging hates me too I'm going to hunt you down.

Nothing's going on.

It's almost two and all I've done today is watch three episodes of Big Day, two eposides of CSI (Las Vegas, naturally), finished the season finale of the Dead Zone (finally), and I ate a plate of Tater Tots. Then I took a shower and realized I have no business eating a plate of Tater Tots. I think I need to go on that post-holiday diet that SJ was talking about. I've never actually dieted before. (shut up, Jeremy) I've always been a believer that if you stay active you can eat pretty much whatever you want. Apparently though, sitting around for five hours watching TV isn't quite the activity level required for that.

And maybe the lemon-garlic chicken I make with the, you know, stick of melted butter isn't such a good idea either.

Or it could just be all the beer I had last night.

Swim away, swim away!

You guys ever had this stuff? Moose Munch from Harry and David?

Don't do it.

If you ever see a bag of this around, just run away.

Trust me.

The world according to a five year old.

This just in:

Superman is cooler than Santa.

(but have a merry Christmas anyway)

My tree is more lovely than a poem.

So I'm flipping through Rolling Stone magazine (thank you, anonymous Rolling Stone subscription donor) and the kid walks by and catches a glimpse of something that automatically appeals to boys under the age of ten. Butts. Naked butts, to be exact. To make a long story short, take a look at what I saw the next time I walked into the living room.





Yeah, this is what a five year old considers an appropriate Christmas ornament.


Kids are weird.

Friday, finally.

I saw a bumper sticker that said Abortion Stops a Beating Heart and I was all, yeah, but wouldn't it be kind of creepy if it didn't?

In the morning.

You know that great feeling when you turn over in the night and look at your clock and you realize you have like, two more hours before you have to get up? You look at the clock hoping it doesn't say you have to get up in twenty minutes, and when you see it's only four AM you're all happy and you roll back over with a smile on your face.

Well, you know what feels even better? When you wake up and look at the clock and notice that you would have left ten minutes ago if you actually had to go to work today. Then you still get to roll over and go back to sleep.

That's right, bitches, I have the day off. Nice.

Frumpy day.

Those of you who have been reading this sorry excuse for a blog a while may remember what the rain does to my hair.

Well, this morning I had on a jacket with no hood and my day was ruined.

All because of my hair.

Actually, all because the jacket I should have had on was at the drycleaners and when I went to pick it up yesterday I had this whole freak out because I thought I left my wallet at DSW but found it in my car a little later incident and couldn't get the jacket because I had no money on me. Yeah, yeah, I know. I'm a gay retard. Who uses run on sentences.

Sundays always suck

I jut stepped in cat puke. I swear, I don't know why I bother feeding that cat sometimes. I would save time by just dumping the can of food right on the floor. The only fun part is when I hear her making the "I'm about to puke" noise and I see if I can get her off the carpet and to the tile in time. It's kind of like that game Perfection.

I put up a little comedy for you. Enjoy!

My own math problem

A box of See's candy + being alone in the office = bad combination.

Slave driver.

I'm so mean.

My kid is home sick today and I have him doing worksheets.

No slacking off here!

Well, I mean, after we finished watching Superman Returns and Fat Albert.

Hey

Want to hear something gross?

I use the pocket on the back of the passenger seat in my car as a garbage can, and I've been sick so right now it's stuffed full of used Kleenex.

Gross, huh?

Sometimes I wish I had an automatic

So, Turkeyblog likes to bitch about his forty minute commute, well how about my hour and a half drive home today for NO FUCKING REASON AT ALL?

No accident.
No death, no carnage.
Not a single cop or tow truck in sight.

Just fifty thousand fuckers crammed into three lanes.

And FYI, when you call 511 and you say "Are you fucking kidding me?" because they have nothing about highway 85, they respond with "I'm sorry, I didn't catch that."

Don't even bother saying it again, he still won't catch it.

It's a Jungle Out There

I don't care what anyone says, I love the show Monk. I love Tony Shalhoub. I loved him in Wings and I love him as Monk. I love the theme song. (which I don't have, but I would love...)

Some may say I love the show because I have certain things in common with the main character.

Those people lie.




I even love the chick who replaced Sharona, even though her name is Traylor. I figure she was trying to do something unique, and didn't realize that she named herself after something that gets blown away by a tornado.

And I can even forgive her for Son of the Mask.

Barely.

Maybe next time.

I wish New York & Company would stop sending me emails. I keep thinking I have real email.

Be honest.

If there was a $5 rebate offer on your beer, would you send for it?

(much too) lazy morning

I really need to get moving. But this chair is so comfortable.

I saw a Miata with the license plate BVRTRNR yesterday.

Does that say what I think it does?

Oddest thing I've seen in a while:

A sweatshirt that said "I Unicycle for Christ"

But the chick who was wearing it didn't even unicycle! Not for you, not for me, and certainly not for Christ.

Slang

A woman on the radio today called in and said she was "juiced" to have gotten through. I've never heard juiced. I don't like it much. Then again, I don't like much of the slang the young kids are using these days. Or, you know, ten years ago.

I say totally all the time.
I say dude, but only for emphasis. (I won't call you dude)
Never much liked tight.
Hated sick.

I remember when someone said those words to me for the first time. I was wearing a shirt kind of like this:


Only it was cooler, and didn't say "TAG THIS", and it was from Gap Kids so it was actually much smaller. Anyway, some guy tells me "the fish are sick!"

I was confused.

Then he said my shirt was tight and I'm all, duh, it's a kid's shirt.

Turns out, he was complimenting me. Who knew?

This morning on the KFOG morning show they were talking about how cold it’s been in the mornings lately. Irish Greg says “It was so cold in the city that when I was waiting for my train I could see my breath!”
It makes me laugh how spoiled we are here in the bay area. I’m complaining when the temperature falls below 60. God forbid it rains, that just ruins my mood all day long. If it’s not sunny and 80 it’s like the end of the world.

I bet the other states think we’re pansies.

But you know what?

They can go ahead and stand in the snow while calling me a pansy. I’ll be laughing all the way to the beach.

So there.

The three words that best describe you are as follows, and I quote: Stink, Stank, Stunk.

How the Grinch Stole Christmas is on right now. I think this is the earliest I've seen it. Usually they wait until after Thanksgiving, don't they?

I suppose it doesn't matter. Caden watches this in the middle of summer. Which isn't right, or so I've been told.

I still want to know why the Who's have antennas.

When the reality just isn't as good as the fantasy.

I've been wanting a cream colored sweater for so long. I'm picky though, I'd see them everywhere but get annoyed because the collar was to high or the knit was too thick or it was too long or it was too short. I finally found one that I liked. It's really cute and soft and comfortable and cozy and it's shedding cream colored fuzz all over my pants and in my hair and in my throat and all over my desk and it's driving me fucking insane.

I hate this sweater.

5:23pm

Is it too early to put on my sleep pants?



Please say no.

We're all pink on the inside.

On the sign in front of my son's school they have notices for the Asian Parents meeting, the Hispanic Parents meeting, and the African-American Kaffee Klatch. This causes me to wonder:

1. Where's the White Parents meeting?

2. What do these groups discuss in their meetings?

3. What the hell is a Kaffee Klatch?

Tell me, Alanis. Is this ironic?

I'm sure you've all heard about Ted Haggard, right? I'm not going to comment on the story because frankly, I just don't care enough, but today when I walked into the back room the newspaper was open to a big story about him. The quote said "I am a deciever and a liar" and I thought to myself "well, at least the guy's honest."

Then I stopped and laughed at myself.


Also, the quote bothered me because it's so redundant.

And so, the hunter becomes the prey...

There's this man that I see in the parking garage sometimes, and we do the usual hello, how ya doin' bullshit that you always do with strangers that you see often. The other day he mentioned that I was there early. Then he mentioned something about the place I work. A few days later he asked me something about the building I work in.

I started wondering, what if I'm his Fudgelover? Maybe he's stalking me. Maybe he's over there writing on his blog about the girl with the retarded license plate. (because, honestly, my license plate is retarded, but it does help me identify my car in a crowded parking lot, as I've mentioned before) Maybe he peeks into my car to find out more about me.

You can't tell much about me by my car either. Other than the carseat in the back giving away the fact that I'm a mom, it's pretty typical. CD's, Altoids, Kleenex. FM transmitter for my iPod which I hatehatehate. He might wonder about the passenger seatbelt always being buckled. But nothing else would stand out.

Well, maybe the empty beer cans and used syringes.
But everyone has those in their cars, right?

The Halloween Drop-Out

The day before Halloween and I just bought my candy. The pumpkins on the porch remain un-carved. I didn't even consider buying a costume this year and I didn't have a party or even go to one. I'm totally half-assing Halloween this year and I don't even care.

Because at least I have a Halloween squirrel to share with you.

Is one beer ever enough?

It gathers no moss.

Ok, who signed me up for Rolling Stone magazine?

Seriously, it's kind of creeping me out.

Here in CA

it's sunny and 80.

Time

Caden lost his first tooth last night. All I had was fives in my wallet so I told him I heard that the tooth fairy gives you more for your first tooth. I don't want him thinking he's getting five bucks for every tooth.

The hands rubbing together guess was the right answer. I was putting lotion on him after his bath and I was rubbing my hands together Miyagi-style. It sounded so wrong coming from his little mouth.

It seems like I never get anything done these days.

three guesses.

Last night my son said to me:

The faster you go, the hotter it gets.
That's how I like it.

Anyone care to take a stab at what he might have been talking about?

What happened here?

I was looking through my archives, trying to find that post that Ty asked me about and I noticed something.

I suck.*

I used to write so much more. I used to write about all kinds of different stuff, interesting stuff*, even. I'd post more than once a day, and I'd be kind of funny sometimes*. What the hell.

Maybe this is coming to an end. Maybe, after two years, I've finally run out of things to say.

I guess I could always tell you what's in my Tivo.

*Yeah, Jeremy. I know. Go for it.

I love George W Bush.

(I don't want to get in trouble)

**How about this, Scooter**


And will someone tell Gavin to behave himself, please? Damn.

I love a fudge lover and there's nothing you can do about it.

Dude, I saw the fucking Fudge Lover today! I can't believe it. I was walking up to my car and there was the Fudge-mobile, driving away. It was actually quite anticlimactic since I only saw her profile and it was across the parking garage, but hey, I know now that the Fudge Lover is indeed a woman. I'm one step closer to becoming, uh, I mean, knowing the Fudge Lover.

She will be mine.

Oh yes.

She will be mine.

Would You Rather...

Since nobody is getting the point (suicide joke) of my last post, I'll throw this out here. They were asking people this morning on Live 105, would you rather kick a kid or shoot a dog. The response was like 83% for kicking the kid. The girl on the show was getting kind of indignant, saying people value dogs over kids, but I think that people value life over a bruise. I mean, if the question was would you rather shoot a kid or shoot a dog, I'm sure it would be overwhelmingly for shooting the dog. Maybe not 100%, but close, right? I would shoot a dog over shooting a kid, but I wouldn't shoot a dog over kicking a kid. I'd even kick my own kid before I'd shoot a dog. But I wouldn't kick him very hard.

This is how I know Terra loves me.

Email from Cindy to Terra: 6 o'clock is good. But I may be dead in the bathtub.

Email from Terra to Cindy: So you'll be naked then?

Body parts on the freeway.

There's a shoe on the side of 280 that I see every day on my way home. It must have a red sock in it, because it at first glance it looks like it has a bloody foot in it. But that can't be true, right? They wouldn't leave a shoe with a bloody stump in it on the side of the freeway, right? If there was like an accident there or something, they would have taken the foot with them. They would have.

But that doesn't stop me from looking at it and thinking "there's that shoe with the bloody stump in it" every day on my way home from work.

And what if it really was a shoe with a bloody stump in it? What if the cops thought the EMT's grabbed it, and the EMT's thought the coroner took it and the victim was dead, or maybe just unconscious, but I think dead and the shoe just stayed there? Oh, and the other shoe is several yards past the bloody one, but this one's clean. I think a hobo was wandering the freeway at night and was hit. Hit and run, probably. A drunk driver wouldn't stop for a hobo. I think.

It's been there for a couple of weeks, and I always see it, I look for it now. I'm way too into this shoe. I wish they would take it away.

I hate seeing that bloody stump.

(but god damn, I love saying "bloody stump", or did you not catch that?)

I screwed up.

My son has a loose tooth. I want it to fall out, so I told him not to wiggle it because it grosses me out. I know that telling him that will make him play with it more.

The thing is.

It really does gross me out.

Seeing it wiggle in there and remembering what it feels like makes me feel like throwing up.

And now I've handed him all the power.

A poem and some other stuff on a Monday.

In fourteen hundred and forty two
Columbus sailed the ocean blue.
And because he found his way
I do not have to work today.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Dude, these fucking talking dolls are creepy as hell. Amazing Amanda. Yeah, she's amazing all right. Just sleep with one eye open because I can easily see Amazing Amanda standing over you with a knife in her little rubber hand. When little Amanda says no, you better fucking listen. But seriously, do kids really want a doll that says no and poops? What kind of fun is that?

You want to know the sad truth?

Whatever you ground your kid from, you're grounded from, too. That sucks big time.

Be careful what you ground your kid from.

One more day

You know what really pisses me off?

When Ticketmaster sends me an email that says

"Don't miss Guns n' Roses".

That really pisses me off.

Death rides the uh...freeway.

I saw some roadkill this morning, oh man this was some disgusting shit, I tell you. All spread out and bloody. One of those things where you drive through some blood and guts and you're all "gross" then you drive through some more and you're all "oh man" then you drive through even more, and you're weaving all over trying to dodge the carnage and you wonder if it will ever end? And you're trying to figure out what the hell kind of animal it was that would make such a big mess but you can't make out any distinguishing characteristics of any kind of animal you've ever seen before because basically every feature has been demolished and spread all over the road like peanut butter. Crunchy peanut butter.

It was nasty.

I may even go as far as to triple dog dare you.

I want everyone to post a picture of themselves. I'm tired of these half faces, just lips, faces hidden by beer, pictures of necks, all that shit. I want real pictures, a cheesy smile for the camera and everything. And it has to be within the last year, I know some of you assholes will be all "hey, you said it had to be me, you didn't say anything about it not being me at age two."

I dare you.

I snoop. So what.

Today the Fudgelover has a McDonalds cup in her cupholder. (Yeah, I'm going with her, I just don't think a man would have a heart in his license plate) I wonder what happened to the Propel Fitness Water?

It's one of those days.

I just noticed I'm wearing my underwear inside out.

I like manly men.

I found these at the candy shop on Pier 39 a while ago. I couldn't resist them. It was a toss up between these and the ones that said "Just like dad!" but these won.

They make me think of Latigo Flint.

I think he'd go for these. After killing twelve men. With a revolver.

To the lady at the McDonald's Playland:

If you don't like the fact that I tied your kid's shoes then get your fat ass outside and do it yourself. The ground is wet, his socks are soaked, and he needs his (awesome) brown Converse high tops. So instead of glaring at me maybe you could step away from your super sized #3 and pay attention to him.

Stupid.

Love, Cindy

T.G.I.F., huh?

Well, the week is finally over. I had a very hectic week, but the only thing I have to do this weekend is lay around. And, you know, stuff.

I'm putting L.A. County by Lyle Lovett up for Amy. She made me think of it today, and now it's stuck in my head.

Have I ever told you how much I hate Jeremy?

Wednesday driving...?

I've been a sucky blogger.

My dad is in town, I've been busy. Busy watching the O'Reilly Factor and the History Channel. Did you ever want to know how the concept of horsepower was developed? Well, I can't tell you because I wasn't paying attention but I bet my dad could explain it word for word, if you ask nicely. Oh, and use correct grammar, he's a stickler.

Great, now he's watching Benny Hill. I just don't get Brittish humor. I mean humour. I'm going to bed.

Sunday driving.

I noticed something today when I was out. People put the most retarded things on their cars. I saw a Buick with a license plate frame that had fake bullet holes all the way around it. Why would someone put that on their car? What kind of person sees that in the Harriet Carter catalog (I'm guessing) and says "holy cow, this is so cool! I'm totally getting one"? Another license plate frame had dog heads in rainbow colors across the bottom. Kind of like this one, only dog heads instead of paws. That's a total two-for-one deal there. You're like "I'm gay and proud" but you're also telling people "and I really like my dog", right? (topic change) When I did the search for this plate I came across this gay pride website that has pet products. I think it's kind of mean to put gay pride things on your pet because really, what if he's not gay? Don't you think he might be kind of embarrassed to go to the dog park with a rainbow leash or a rainbow tag? Do you think the other dogs hit on him because they think he's gay? I feel sorry for those dogs. I bet they never get any ass. Or uh, maybe they do. Oops.

Another useless tidbit.

Peeked into Fudge Lover's car again. Saw a couple bananas and some Propel fitness water. The travel mug was gone, as was the Ikea tupperware. I think Fudge Lover may be trying to lose the fudge chub. I still have no idea what gender the Fudge Lover is, but I know that he/she works out. Or does aerobics. Or lifts weights. Or plays softball. Or simply likes Propel water and is thirsty for no reason other than liquid has not touched his/her lips in some time.



God damn it all, I love Mitch Hedberg.

P.S. Fudge chub sounds funny to me.

What's up with people who don't think I'm funny?
Seriously, I don't get it.

Come on and lie to me.

I lie to myself about coffee. How sad is that? I know I make my coffee too strong, I have a problem. There, I said it. I have a caffeine problem.

So I tell myself I'm only going to use three scoops this time.
Just three scoops.

But I make two of those scoops big, huge, heaping scoops.

But still, I only used three.

Am I right?

Nothing like Back to School Night to make you feel inadequate.

I'm so altruistic.

A woman apparently collapsed on the sidewalk outside. The firemen and EMT's came to help her and as they were loading her into the ambulance I'm looking for my friend, because he drives an ambulance in this city.

Is that wrong? Yeah. I know.

But I do wonder why the firemen drove their truck. The firehouse is like twelve feet away from where she fell. The end of the fire truck was probably blocking the driveway to the fire station. Why didn't they just run on over? I wonder.

I think the sensei at the Cobra Kai dojo gave his students crank.

This made me laugh.











Is it just me or does it look like Mr. Miyagi is molesting Daniel? Kind of gives a new perspective to the whole "wax on, wax off" thing, huh?

Nonsense

Have you guys watched that show Weeds on Showtime? It's about a suburban mom who sells pot to support her family since her husband died. They just started the second season, but I'm still working on the first season on DVD right now. It's pretty good, you should check it out. It has good music, too; Blue Eyed Son, Sufjan Stevens, The Mountain Goats. They're doing this cool thing with this season, they get a different artist to sing the theme song each week. Elvis Costello, Death Cab for Cutie, etc. Which is great because the woman who sang the song for the first season has a really annoying voice. Really annoying.

The brother in law is the best, he has the funniest conversations. He had this whole discussion about the "taint" which made me think of YoJ, naturally.

Billboards and words.

I know you've all seen the Snickers ads like Peanutopolis and Hungerectomy. Some are cool, some are lame. Nougatocity is lame. Not a lot of words can pull off the -ocity at the end. Travelocity can get away with it, I guess because of the L. But after a T? No. No, Snickers, no.
Substantialiscious is my favorite. I like the way it sounds. I love words that end in -scious though, like:

pervicacious
extremely willful; obstinate; stubborn.

I especially love the ones that end in -iscious, like:

pernicious
1. causing insidious harm or ruin; ruinous; injurious; hurtful
2. deadly; fatal: a pernicious disease.
3. Obsolete. evil; wicked.

and my all time favorite:

lubricious
1. arousing or expressive of sexual desire; lustful; lecherous.

But speaking of the Word of the Day, what the fuck is up with today's word:

small beer \small beer\, noun:

1. Weak beer.
2. Insignificant matters; something of little importance.
3. Unimportant; trivial.

They even put the pronunciation on there? Now, that's lame.

Same to you, pal.

You know that "Blog This!" button at the top of this window? I don't like it. It sounds like an insult. Like if someone said to you "I'm going to eat the last piece of pie" and you replied "yeah? well, eat this!" and grabbed your dick or something. That's how I feel about it anyway.

And on a side note, when I eat these:









I'm not hungry for a long, long time.

Cartoons

Remember that Tom and Jerry episode when they're at a construction site and Jerry starts walking around in a glove and he shakes Tom's hand and then slams him down onto the ground?

That's funny.

See, I do know how to quit you.

I quit the Peevery because I really just can't keep up with two blogs anymore. (read: lazy) I can't even keep my own up anymore, as you can see. So, just a warning, you might see more bitching over here from now on. Like this:

What's with the stupid Sleeptrain Mattress Center? They sponsor EVERYTHING IN THE WORLD. My morning radio show, all shows on TV, even the traffic report is sponsored by Sleeptrain Mattress Center. Are they going to sponsor this blog next? I sure hope so. Because as you all know, they are your ticket to a better night's sleep.

I'm going to lunch. See ya.

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.

Monday, right?

My power went out this morning. I had to leave for work so I don't know how long it was out and I'm scared to drink my milk.

I also tried to take a splinter out of my son's hand this morning but was unsuccessful. He acted like I was trying to amputate. It this just my kid being a pansy or are all kids weird about splinters?

Someone in Fremont loves to look at my blog and has an awful lot of time on their hands. That's all I have to say about that.

Boris the Spider (creepy crawly creepy crawly)

You ever get the feeling that something is crawling on you, so you look at your leg to see what it is, but there's nothing there? And even as you're looking at your spider-free leg you still feel something crawling on you, as if the spider is invisible? You feel it, but you can't see it, so your eyes and your skin are at odds.

What's that about?

Uninspired post

As Duckie so nicely pointed out, I've been lazy about posting. I don't know why, I just haven't been in a place to post lately. Like, my chair, or in front of a computer.
I have been listening to so much Mitch Hedberg lately that I'm starting to think in his voice. Thoughts go through my head and I find myself emphasizing like him. Like, the back of the Lays bag says "Nothing compliments a sandwich like Lays." and I'm thinking "They ain't said shit to me." And anyone who knows me will tell you that I hate the word ain't. Well, anyone who knows me might not actually tell you that. Unless maybe you asked.

I came home from work today and changed from khaki pants and a black shirt into khaki shorts and a black tank top. I'm living on the fucking edge right there, boy.

Living up to my heritage.

Here it is, Sunday evening, and the one thing I hoped to accomplish this weekend (mop the kitchen floor) is still waiting to be finished. Or started.

Things I did accomplish this weekend:

Consumed several beers
Went to see Monster House
Started a small fire in my kitchen
Had a banana split
Watched about four hours of TV

All in all, I have to say it was a pretty successful weekend.
What did you do?

Listen.

People who say 'rita instead of margarita are gay.

Bonus: I can keep the same song up for this post.

I realized two things today.

1. Mitch Hedberg is funnier than I originally thought.

2. When you're alone, watching your kid's gymnastics class, and you listen to Mitch Hedberg on your iPod you look like a fucking idiot.

Let's see if I can make this happen. Try downloading him.

Attempt #1

Attempt #2

Kids are weird.

Tell me something.

What would possess a person to hang a sword from a tiny bottle of Sunny Delight? Then be completely shocked when the bottle tips over and spills all over the kitchen floor?

I mean, it's enough to not be aware that a four foot sword will not be supported by an eight ounce bottle of juice, but why on earth would you want to do this? When did hanging things from beverages become entertainment?

Seriously.

Last night...

She said...

No. She said nothing.

I didn't turn on my alarm clock last night. I checked it to make sure it was set for the correct time, which I do every night even though I know I haven't changed it. Hm. Apparently, just checking to see what time it's set for doesn't actually make it go off in the morning. You'd think so, but you'd be wrong. I mean, the alarm clock should know that you don't check it if you're sleeping in the next day, right?

My hands smell like tuna.

Good god, that sounded so wrong.

The California DMV website states that you cannot order a personalized license plate with the number "69" in it unless you have a 1969 vehicle.

That's a bunch of crap.

I totally want it now, simply because I can't have it.

I wonder how much trouble they had with it that they had to make it a rule? I would love to see how sneaky people tried to be, hiding a 69 reference in their license plates.

Give it a try.

Would you rather be a bullfrog?

I have a question.

Would you rather have a friend think of you as a dick or a pussy?

For example:

Let us say you have a friend who is a member of the opposite sex. Your new girlfriend/boyfriend comes along and demands that you no longer be friends with this person. Do you

a. Dump this friend of four years without a word of explanation, leading them to believe you are a complete dick, or do you

b. Tell this friend what’s going on and risk the friend thinking of you as a total pussy?


**Just to clarify, nobody has asked me to get rid of anybody.

10:25 on a Monday night

So, there's nothing going on in my life.
But for some reason, I feel the need to post about the nothingness that is my existence. As if anyone wants to read about that.

I'm mocking you.

You know who you are.

Trash by the road

On the way home today I saw a garbage can
smashed on the side of the freeway.

I stopped and pondered the irony for a moment.

And then I moved on.

News

UC Santa Cruz approved a new major.

Gaming.

Because that's what Santa Cruz needs.

More stoners.

Sorry I called you Fatty, Fatty.

I just ate my peanut butter and jelly sandwich that I brought for lunch.
Because I'm a big fat cow.

It was good.

Hi ladies.

Sorry I was gone so long, I've been very busy. I had a great birthday weekend, just awesome. Thank you all for the birthday wishes, even if some of you only did it because I said to. It worked anyway. Then I went to Disneyland with my son. I'm so not about Disneyland. I still had fun, but it's going to be a while before I go back. I'd rather go to Yosemite.

LA is weird. It takes a certain breed to be able to live there, I think. Certain things drive me crazy, like the lack of left turn lights. Also, where else can you be sitting in gridlock at noon on a weekday, on a freeway that has like seventeen lanes? Also, the McDonalds across the street from Disneyland is full of white trash after 9pm. Also, it's fucking hot there.

I noticed that a lot of people are ugly. I noticed also that a lot of ugly people have cute kids. How does that happen? It's like the kids take only the good features of each parent. Or something. Since there are some parents with no good features. Milkman's baby? It's possible.

I noticed that a lot of people who shouldn't be showing their feet to anyone but a podiatrist wear sandals. Don't they know? Don't they ever look at their own feet? Haven't they ever heard of lotion?

I noticed that a lot of women wear clothes that shouldn't see the light of day. And show body parts that shouldn't see the light of day.

And hello, my kid is useless. We were in line near this guy who was holding his girlfriend's purse, this small lime green thing. I tried to get Caden to tell him "Your purse is cute" but he wouldn't do it. What good is that kid anyway?