Inspired by my Father in laws "quote book", it will only be the funniest, and most though provoking of statements, I am gonna try not to do too much mushy shit, its just for laughs after all.

Saturday, October 23, 2010

Penises need not apply

A gray eyelash. A mother fucking gray eyelash. I blame you spawn. In the last 24 hours I have become the proud owner of a gray eyelash. Some of the quotes that could have possibly scared the pigment out of the fucker:

"I did something really mean to the cat, but I don't want to tell you what it was."

"I think I only throwed up 'cause there were a lots of boogers in my throat"

"Ha ha ha! I just called the hair tie a hair PIE! Hair pie, hair pie, hair pie!" (loudly, in the grocery store)


"Mom! Have you seen the tarantula?!?!"


Spent most of the day yesterday making a "pretend mixed berry and sea weed pie" with Finn. It was inedible berries from the yard, and weeds, of course, and it was heavily armed with guns and swords baked right in. He is the perfectly engineered cross between Martha Stewart and Rambo. My plan is working, kind of.

Hum, I guess the last 24 hours, have been nothing out of the ordinary. Maybe it was just that eyelashes time? Ya know "the circle of life" and all that shit?....nah, it was the kids.


P.S. I told Miah that yarmulke (ya know, that little skull cap the Jewish dudes wear) was spelled with a "R" and an "L", and he didnt believe me (cause, why would he?) and I was right!!! I was right fuckers! About spelling! Woo hoo! Look out Steven Hawking, I am one smart bitch!!

P.P.S (Ladies only, penises need not apply) what do I do about the lash? Pluck it, or mascara it? Its on the bottom. Please advise.

Wednesday, October 20, 2010

Sick Burn

Finn is in this habit of when I am looking for something, he tells me he found it and then gives me something totally different, and then laughs his ass off. Not funny fucker.

Finn: Mom! I found your bottle top!!

Me: Oh good! I am so glad, I was looking for that forever!!! Can I have it?

Finn: Here you go (hands me a dinosaur, and gives me a shit eating grin)

Me: Finn, thats not funny, I was really hoping you found it.

Finn: Yea, Mom, it is funny, its a funny joke, I am a joker.

Me: No, its not.

Finn: Yes. it. is. I am a joker Mom! I learned it from you.

Me: (a small swell of pride from the previous statement) Not really Finn, its a mean joke.

Finn: You're a mean joke.



Now, I know I should be proud of what my kids are doing in school:







(Its a RUG, not a doobie, geeze.)

















Or, their thoughtfulness toward family members:



(For Daddy's soccer payoffs, thats what he wanted it to say, I am not gonna argue with the kid. Come on look how proud he is!)




















But the thing that really gets me choked up, that really gets my eyes swelling, and my sinuses blocked up with mucus, is a really sick burn, from way beyond their years. "You're a mean joke" (Sniff, sniff, slow clap)

Thursday, October 14, 2010

Bitches be trippin'

My kid is sick AGAIN. Thus begins another shitty day of no workout, no school, and a sick kid up my ass all day. So, shit friends, lets make the worst of this butt munching day, and clean the mother f-ing house.

Now I have recently been reading so many post from chicks (sorry,but it is mostly chicks) about how they cleaned all day, organized closets, rearranged furniture, cleaned out the cob webs, and it felt oh so good!!!

Is there something wrong with me? I got NONE of those warn fuzzy feelings from de-lousing my crib. For real, all I feel, is super irritated and fucking pissed. Mostly because its all going to be shot to shit as soon as fever boys fever drops, and his brother shows up. But also, also because I would rather shove weird things up my ass, and then go to hospital and try to explain it away, then spend a beautiful, fall, San Diego day... cleaning.

And don't get me wrong, I am not gonna try and tell you I am cleaning up other peoples crap, its probably like, 10% Miah, 27% Finn, 29% Reid, and like 20 % me. Is that 100? 10+27+29+20? Oh who fucking cares, I have a hot kid in lap talking delirious fever nonsense, like; "Mom, your tummy is really big, is there something in there?...its big...bigger than it was. Its pretty big." Obviously hes loosing his shit.

In closing, I cant believe people enjoy cleaning, bitches be trippin'.