Maybe some duct tape will work

Todays post will be short as I am in a dismal state. I was just getting dressed. I was putting my socks on first of course so I bent over to pick them up when my boobs brushed my knees.

I had to take a moment to pause there, as I realized, aging and gravity are definitely taking a toll on me. Nursing two kids probably isn’t going to help either.

I never thought my perky boobs would get to the point where they would dangle down and touch my knees if I bent over.

Excuse me I need to go find some duct tape now.

Whats that on my doorstep?

I came home today to find this on my doorstep?
What is it?
HMMMM WHAT COULD IT BE?

IT’S PACKING PEANUTS!!!!!!!!!!!


SURPRISES MAKE ME DO THIS


IT’S PIZZA!!!!!!! BUT NOT JUST ANY PIZZA!!!

IT’S PIZZA FROM….

NOW I’M REALLY EXCITED (APPARENTLY SO ARE THE VEINS IN MY NECK)

I MEAN REAAAAAAAAL EXCITED

LOOK FRESH OUT OF THE OVEN NEW YORK GARLIC KNOTS

OUCH THATS HOT..I SHOULD LET MY FOOD COOL DOWN

THE PIZZA IS READY THE PIZZA IS READY

OH YEAH BABY, NO FORK AND KNIFE HERE!

MMMMMM IT’S LICK YOUR LIPS GOOD
THIS POST IS COURTESY OF PATTY! WE WERE CHATTING ON VALENTINES DAY AND SOME GOT GOT TO TALKING ABOUT NEW YORK PIZZA. I WAS TRYING TO EXPLAIN HOW MUCH SHE SHOULD APPRECIATE LIVING IN NYC WHERE SHE COULD GET ALL THE NYC PIZZA SHE WANTED. SHE ASKED ME IF IT COULD POSSIBLY BE THAT DIFFERENT AND I WAS ALL UMMM ITS THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN A PILE OF DOG SHIT AND A BAR OF CHOCOLATE. OR MAYBE LIKE THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN AUTHENTIC MEXICAN TACOS, AND TACO BELL. IT’S! NOT! THE! SAME! WE CONTINUED CHATTING AND I WAS LIKE YEAH YOU REALLY SHOULD FEEL LUCKY. HER RESPONSE WAS, WELL I’M SURE NEVADA HAS SOME SPECIALTY FOODS. I WAS LIKE YEAH WE HAVE BUFFETS AND BAD CHINESE. SHE JUST LAUGHED AT ME, BUT I WAS DEAD SERIOUS. HERE IN NEVADA WE HAVE NOTHING AT ALL THAT WE ARE FAMOUS FOR, OR THAT I WOULD MISS IF I LEFT (JEN AND LEE WOULD ARGUE THAT NEVADA HAS PORT OF SUBS, BUT SO DO OTHER STATES, NO OTHER STATE HAS NEW YORK PIZZA.) ALL THE SUDDEN PATTY ASKED FOR MY ADDRESS AND TOLD ME SHE WAS SENDING ME A NEW YORK PIZZA VIA IWANTNYPIZZA.COM. I NEARLY DIED RIGHT THEN AND THERE. THAT WAS THURSDAY. THUS BEGAN COUNTDOWN TO PIZZA DAY!

TODAY WAS THE BIG DAY. I WOKE UP FEELING EXTRA HAPPY. I BUDGETED MY CALORIES SO I COULD INDULGE AND I RUSHED HOME. I GOT HERE AND THERE IT WAS. MY VERY OWN NEW YORK PIZZA. IT WAS GOOD. IT WAS DELICIOUS. IT WAS PROBABLY ACTUALLY ONE OF THE MOST THOUGHTFUL GIFTS I HAVE EVER RECEIVED IN MY LIFE, AND NOW I FEEL SAD BECAUSE NEVADA IS FULL OF CRAP AND I HAVE NOTHING THAT COULD EVEN KIND OF COMPARE THAT I CAN SEND BACK TO PATTY. I’M GOING TO FIGURE SOMETHING OUT THOUGH, AND WHEN I DO, IT WILL BE GOOD, BUT IT WILL PALE IN COMPARRISON TO FRICKING NEW YORK PIZZA.

MUST STOP TYPING NOW, POSSIBLY DYING FROM CARB OVERLOAD, MUST ROLL FROM COUCH TO BED. LOVE YOU PATTY THANK YOU SOOOOOOOOOOO MUCH!

PS. IF YOU WANT TO FULLY UNDERSTAND HOW I FEEL ABOUT NEW YORK PIZZA, YOU KNOW THAT MOVIE DODGE BALL WHERE BEN STILLER GETS PIZZA, THATS KIND OF HOW I FEEL ABOUT NEW YORK PIZZA.

Who gave me pets

Apparently I shouldn’t be married. And seriously, who the fuck gave me kids? They say, when you go into rehab and AA and stuff before you can have a relationship you should get a pet. And before getting a pet you should get a plant.

When I moved out my mom thought that AA had a pretty good idea. So she brings me a plant. Ha ha! Not just any plant, a fucking violet. NICE! Thanks mom. Some kind of fancy water techniques with that one. Something about watering it from the bottom upside down while standing on your head and flying on a trapeze. No, that can’t be it, because THAT sounds easy. Needless to say the violet last about 3 hours in my home.

After that I did what any logical person would do. I got myself a cat. Getting a cat was easy. Or at least mine was. You couldn’t not feed it, the little fucker wouldn’t let you forget. Seriously. If dinner time for him was 3:00 then you can bet at 2:55 he would go into full alert mode. MEOW MEOW MEOWWWWWWWWWWW! At 2:58 he would start biting you. At 3:00 he would start knocking shit over. And if you made it till 3:01 well then the little shit would just go chew a hole into the side of his food bag. I thought I was being smart by putting his food into a Tupperware, but he just knocked that off the shelf and pried it open (I do not lie this cat is a damn genius).

So then I got a dog. He was the same way. If I didn’t feed him, that was fine with him, he would just hop on my counter and eat an entire loaf of bread. So you can bet I fed him right on time every day.

I’m doing good with the cat and the dog so I think, self, you’ve done good why not get yourself a man. I get a man. We get married we have kids. And then it happens. My parents buy us fish. Great. The first thing I think is, FUCK! Fish have no alarms. They have no meow, or barks. They can’t bite me they have no way to say, “hey you, asshole human feed me I’m starving here.” Everyone assures me that Rob is going to handle feeding the fish. So far this is how that has gone:

Monday:
Me: Hon did you feed the fish
Rob: Sure did

Tuesday:
Me: Hon did you feed the fish
Rob: Sure did

Wednesday:
Me: Hon did you feed the fish
Rob: Sure did

Thursday:
Me: Hon did you feed the fish
Rob: Uhhhhhhhhhhhh I think

Friday:
Me: Hon did you feed the fish
Rob: I think so maybe, not sure

Saturday:
Me: Hon did you feed the fish
Rob: No I had Cody do it.

So as you can see we are doing great with the fish huh. Anyway Sunday night rolls around and Rob looks in the tank to see our tiniest gold fish has died. Well shit. 1 out of 4 not so bad. A whole week the made it WOOHOO! We decide to wait till Brandon is asleep to scoop out his fish and flush it, because being the brainiac mom I am I can already foresee what would happen if he watched us. “Mama I wanna plush pish I wanna plush pish”, thinking it was some sort of game. MOnday morning rolls around and I look in the tank to see tiny fish still floating. CRAP! Rob forgot to scoop him out. So me, Mrs. I’m not touching that so back of Mr. Had to scoop the fish out with the net and run to the bathroom to flush it while holding down chunks of vitamin and vomit.

On to yesterday evening. I look in the tank and see that my Sucker fish is dead. FUCK! Brandon will know that one is gone. I’m all freaked out. He’s just floating there all weird and lifeless, and definitely not sucking on anything. I tell Rob and he says we will get it later. I come out about an hour later and the fucking fish is doing flips in the tank. Huh? Just to fuck with me he did a giant leap and flipped right in front of me. I didn’t even know sucker fish could flip and leap. Well shit. Had Brandon been asleep I would have scooped that fish right out and flushed him. I guess it is a good thing we had to wait for him to go to sleep or I would have flushed a live fish.

I ask again, who in the fuck thought it was a good idea to give me fish? Sucker fish, more like fucker fish! I’ll keep you all updated with this, see if I nearly flush anymore totally alive fish this week!

Fucking holidays

  • Times I drove to the bank today and had to keep driving because it was closed: 1
  • Times I went to put mail in the mail box today: 1
  • Times my boss/mom put mail in the mail box today: 1
  • Times we had to go back and get the mail out of the mail box because of the fucking holiday today: 1
  • Times I called the insurance company today to add a dependent but couldn’t talk to someone because of a holiday: 1
  • Times I picked up the phone to call social security for Codis SS number: 3
  • Times I checked my mail box at home but found it empty because it is a holiday: 1
  • Times I called the power company but didn’t get through because it was a holiday: 2
  • Times I started to do the bank deposit but had to stop because no one could pick up the deposit: 2

FUCKING HOLIDAYS

A how to guide on being ghetto

This week the girl in my office went to 7-11 to pick up her lunch. Shit, I could stop this whole post right there couldn’t I. 7-11 for lunch, thats about as ghetto as it gets huh. The only times I’ve ever been to 7-11 for lunch is when I was menstruating or super high and really “needed” some nachos and/or powdered sugar donuts (not just any donuts, but the ones with the raspberry goo inside).

I digress. The girl in my office returned and announced that this particular 7-11 was going out of business and everything was 50% off. I paid it no mind since I can’t buy alcohol or anything but water during Lent. Later that night my parents called and informed my husband that beer was basically being sold for about .50 each. He was impressed. They showed up with a ton of Bud Lite and Newcastle and I think anything I had ever done wrong to my husband was magically erased by the generosity of my parents toting arm loads of beer into my home. Not just any beer but Bud Lite AND Newcastle. To my husband Newcastle is similar to the difference between Hersheys and Godiva to me. He promptly popped open a fresh beer and exclaimed that he thought it tasted better because it was free and half off.

Tonight, I was sitting here talking to Robs friend who had just come from 7-11 for some chaw (a lá “The Sandlot.” Suddenly I remembered that I wanted to go there. So I dumped the kids on Rob and off I went. I arrived to see little pink signs declaring the store half off and away I went. I walked straight for the Beer. I grabbed (3) more 6 packs of Bud Lite and (2) 40’s of Corona. I feel ghetto just typing out that I purchased 40’s.

As I was stocking up on all this beer it reminded me of my younger years. I could picture young skinny Shannon bopping into 7-11 with her posse of male friends (I still don’t get along with women, they are all bitches) and heading for the alcohol. We would discover the sale and rather then stock up on good beer we would do what any logical college assholes would do. Go right for the cheapest beer. Keystone Lite half off HELL YA! Why pay .50 for a beer when we could pay .25 for one. Then I realized that is what all of my male friends would have done. What Shannon would have done was proceeded to bop up to the counter and purchase every single bottle of liquor AND OF COURSE every single mini bottle of liquor, “because they were cute and like teeny and stuff.” Then I would have bought a few cherry Parliments and called it a night. I would have proceeded to see how much liquor I could drink at once since it was on sale I wouldn’t have to ration, and when I was puking it back up that night, it would all feel okay, because that puke was much less expensive then the puke from the night before. (was that just the mother of all run on sentences or what). I could see me now. Drunkinly stumbling around a frat party telling anyone who would listen and even those who wouldn’t about how awesome I was scoring 50% off alcohol and how, “I’m not even drunk guys,” seconds before heaving onto their carpet. Oh to be 19 again.

Then genius struck. I walked to the chips and loaded up on stuff for Robs lunch 10-15 bags later I had Lays, Maui Onion chips, Wasabi chips, Doritos, Kettle chips and so on. I also grabbed about 7 bags of puffy Cheeto’s for Brandon. I grabbed (5) packs of gum and about (9) Hersheys jumbo organic chocolate bars. I had (6) Kit Kats and (7) Twix for Robs lunch. He hasn’t had candy in his lunch since Halloween when we picked through Brandon’s loot. Not only would he be delighted to see candy in his lunch box it would be WHOLE candy bars! Yeah I was fully aware that he was going to want to do naughty things with me when I got home, beer, chips and candy, shit it couldn’t get any better.

But it did. I ventured over to the novelty ice cream and picked up (3) cinnamon Choco Tacos for him. At that moment, I knew I had won the award for wife who did the best shopping at 7-11. I picked up some large Nestlé chocolate milk for Brandon, some M&ms, some donuts for his breakfast, some butter (shit it was the good Land O Lakes unsalted and it was half off and I was out of butter), and some other ice cream and various goodies.

I was about to leave when I realized I hadn’t gotten the only thing I ever go there for. NACHOS. Okay that is a lie, I go there for nachos and raspberry jam filled powdered donuts, but mainly the nachos.

For me, eating nachos is nostalgic. Every time I get them I revert back to the days in high school when I was ALWAYS stoned. I would be out in the valley with my guy friends and we would get way high. You could tell I was stoned two ways. 1. I asked them to take me to get chicken, or 2. I asked them to take me to 7-11. We would get to 7-11 and it would feel as though I was a Catholic who had just set foot on the popes front door. I had a routine. I would head straight for the Slurppy machine, get a large Blue and then head for my donuts. I would put those on the counter and head back for some delicious nachos. Onions, triple cheese and chips and I was on my way. We would head back to Joshie D’s house and I would proceed to stuff my face with food. The guys loved watching this, because for some reason guys get off seeing skinny girls eat. You should have seen how much they loved to watch me eat chicken tenders with ranch dripping off em, that might have had something to do with the sex noises I made while eating them.

However. Now, every time I get those nachos I realize something. You have to be really stoned to eat them, because fuck they taste like shit! And considering I made a deal with myself to never take another drink or another drug after having kids, you would think I would stop subjecting myself to the rancidness that is 7-11 nachos. But that’s like saying that you would think at some point fat people would be smart enough to stop super sizing. I’ll never be smart enough to avoid the nachos that are so toxic they could probably peal that paint Brandon spilled on my garage floor clean off!

When I got home it was as though Brandon’s head nearly fucking exploded. I walked in carrying bag loads of goodies. All the guys ooohed and ahhhed over the beer while my son jumped from bag to bag shouting, CHEEYO’S, CHOGGLET NILP, DOE NUTS, CHOGGLET, GUM, CHOGGLET NILP, MAMA IT’S CHEEY’S AND CHOGGLET NILP. I swear he is laying in bed right now dreaming of how he loves that his mom is just ghetto enough to guy buy discount beer, milk and butter from her local gas station.

To reiterate, it hurts being this awesome ya’ll!

New new new

Starting now I will be going back and commenting back to you on my posts. I never really believed that people did that but they do so now I will do it for you. If you leave me a comment and it is funny, interesting or questionable I will respond. Starting NOW…GO!

My job

I was cleaning my sons room yesterday when this starting coming together in my mind.

My job.
As your mom,
It is my job to put the lids back on your markers so you actually have markers to use next time
It is my job to kiss invisible owies in just the right spot
It is my job to know that Honcrean means you want some yogurt please
It is my job to know the difference between a hurt cry and a hungry cry
It is my job to know just how to tickle your back
It is my job to know just how you like your cheese
It is my job to put your toys away so next time you go to the place where your toys belong rather then where you left them they will be right there waiting
It is my job to make you eat more then Cheetos
It is my job to know precisely what cheese you want when you ask for cheese

As your wife,
It is my job to know where you left it and find it when it is hiding
It is my job to know how you want your steak
It is my job to know your a baby when your sick
It is my job to know bacon makes everything taste better

What are your jobs?

Hi from the land of , thats gross, we’re sick, and THAT IS NOT HOW YOU REST YOUNG MAN!

HI. We are sick here. It’s really fun. By we I mean my two kids. Brandon seems to have the flu or something and Codi is sneezing boogers 2 feet across the room. Oddly, when I type flu I ALWAYS type out flue because I work in the HVAC industry and flue is something I type daily.

Anyway we got new pets. Did I tell you that? Did I tell you that my parents bought us 4 little fish? They are cute. One of them is a bully but the other three are really nice and cute and sweet. Anyway since we are home sick we have nothing better to do besides sit around and watch fish swim.


Awww look at em. See the black on there, the one with the giant eyes? His name is orange fish (guess who named him). Well orange fish used to be pretty cute with his big ole bug eyes. That is, until we started really watching him and he got soooo gross. He poops like 2 inch long poops. He starts with about a half inch then does some weird swim dancing shimmy shake moves and pushes out another half in and before you know it hes swimming around with 2 inches of poop dangling out his ass. I shit you not (pun intended) I’m so bored I took pictures for proof. My camera is being a slut though so you can’t see very well but look closely to see his pink poop!

Look at me, I have 1.5 inches of shit dangling out of me.


See it there, it’s so long it goes all the way down in front of that egg. As gross as it is we have all been oddly mesmerized by it.


And of course, after the actual real orange fish came and ate orange fish (the black ones) 2 inch long poop, Brandon is now asking if he too can eat “pish poop”.

In other news THIS IS NOT HOW YOU ACT WHEN YOU ARE SICK YOUNG MAN!!!!!


You can’t even tell he’s puking on my couch and coughing phlegm onto my arm and wiping 2 foot dangly gooey boogers onto my leg and belly can you?

THIS is exactly how you do sick.

You’ve got the right idea Codi!