I wish heads were disposable.
26 Jan 2012 Leave a Comment
You know what would suck? Being only a head, like in Futurama, especially on days that you’ve decided to get owned by a migraine.
Have a great day y’all.
Bambi I am not.
25 Jan 2012 3 Comments
in And then I found 5 bucks, I am a stubborn asshole, This belongs in a "mommy blog"
You know what I don’t get about people that are anti-cussing? They’re still basically cussing, they’re just using different words to do it. And their argument about people that cuss not having imagination? Kind of moot. They ALL say “dang” or “darn”, “gosh” or “golly gee whiz”. Where is the imagination in that? Why don’t they say like… Flibbertygibbet? At the least, they could use ampersand or bleep. There are more inventive words out there, but there are words that are much more lame too.
When my step son was little, he would call me a dumb bitch. Now, I’m not denying that I am a dumb bitch, but no 3 year old child needs to say that, so my in laws decided to give him a replacement word before I murdered him in a terribly violent manner. Instead of letting him call me a dumb bitch, they encouraged him to call me Bambi. Bambi definitely sounds better in public, but I knew what he really meant, and I wasn’t any happier about it. He was still essentially saying something entirely inappropriate, and now I had two phrases to delete from his vocabulary, one of which was the title of a favorite movie of mine! Awesome.
It took many threats of doom and destruction, but I finally got my step son to stop calling me both Bambi AND dumb bitch, much to the dismay of my in laws, who seemed utterly unable to understand why I was protesting to his use of Bambi. As if it actually were something cute and innocent. Hmph. Bambi only sounded cleaner. In reality, it was paint over a stain, and a very thin coat of paint at that!
Anyway, I digress a little. My point here is, replacement words? Kinda stupid. And pointless. They really aren’t any less offensive if you think about it. I dunno. Maybe that’s just me.
What do you guys think? Replacement words: useful tools, or a ridiculous waste of breath?
Most unexpected line ever.
24 Jan 2012 1 Comment
This one time, at band camp?
…I’m not finishing that line.
SPEAKING of unexpected things. Once, years ago, we had this junk car. It was going to go to the crusher, so we decided to have a little fun with it. We took bats and smashed windows, dented the hood, et cetera et cetera. I was kicking the door, and I COULD NOT get the stupid dent to stay in it.
Kick! WHAM! …Pop.
Kick! WHAM! …Pop.
Most frustrating thing ever. Finally after I don’t know how many kicks, the door gave up. The dent didn’t pop out. I was so excited I started jumping up and down, waving my arms around and yelling “YAY!”
Suddenly, behind me, there was applause. I spun around to look and saw that some people had pulled up to the stop sign near the house and decided to stay and watch me kick the door. When I got it, they cheered for me. Ugh. I was so embarrassed. I can turn some really nice shades of red and I am pretty sure I hit every single one of them that day. Goodness. They drove off and I spent the rest of the day in hiding.
I handle unexpected things soo well, let me tell you.
Once I was watching… One of the um, … Dangit, what’s it called? Um…. Hrmmm. Final… FINAL DESTINATION! That’s it! One of the Final Destination movies, when somebody got squished. I was all by myself and it was a total surprise to me. I screamed, leapt from the couch and ran to the kitchen. Because in my head I’m 12, that’s why. I spent the rest of the movie peeking around the corner watching it from there. Me, a dork? NEVER! You probably shouldn’t ever watch even a really lame horror movie with me though. Not unless you feel like listening to me squeal every time something happens while I watch the movie from between my fingers because I’ve covered my face with my hands.
12, remember?
Anyway, I guess what I’m saying here is that I’m awesome with surprises. Surprise!
If I ever say “gosh” or “darn”, just take me out back and shoot me.
23 Jan 2012 2 Comments
in Ficrific, I am a nutjob, Like a cat, Weather
Okay, I’m about tired of this non-winter. I want AT LEAST a week of snow and cold before the equinox, Miz Mother Nature, okay? Okay?!
It’s January now, dangit! When I was a kid, we had waist deep snow by October, and on Halloween we went Trick-or-Treating in it uphill! Both ways!
Actually, every bit of that is true. I lived in the mountains when I was little, of course there was snow and hills! I know I can be a smart ass at times, but you guys didn’t really think I’d lie to you, did you? I’m hurt!
Someone turned the heater up to 70 last night, and Imma kill whoever it was when I find out. I keep my thermostat set at 60. 64 if I think I might be cold, but 70? 70 is too high like, ever, but especially when Winter apparently FORGOT TO COME THIS YEAR. So I woke up all hot and grumpy and this morning I’m walking around in jeans and a tank top with the windows open. That’ll teach ‘em! Stupid thermostat is back where it’s supposed to be too. 70. Jeez.
So I have been trying to modify some of my more erm… Coarse language a little, recently. (Yes, I know there is a bad word up there. I’m not changing it. Because I don’t want to, that’s why!) I already use substitute words like “bleep” and “ampersand” (yes, I really say those), but I have been trying to get rid of even more cuss words and DO YOU GUYS HAVE ANY IDEA HOW HARD IT IS TO CLEAN UP YOUR LANGUAGE WHEN YOU’VE CUSSED LIKE A SAILOR YOUR WHOLE BLEEPING LIFE?! It’s ffffffff… Bleeping hard, yo!
Grr.
I do that a lot now.
“Ffffffffffffff… Argh! Where did that wall come from?”
“Son of a…. RRRRRRRRRGH! How does a person trip over flat surfaces so bleeping often? “
“Ow! The mother fffffff – stupid dog bit my stupid ffff – BLAH! My stupid TOE, and it hurt dam…. DANGIT!”
By the end of the day my language has usually devolved into something far less pretty. Chelle. Foul-mouthed, accident prone clutz since… Forever.
Anyway. I have to go now. Walls to walk in to, floors to trip over, dogs to get nommed by, mouths to wash out, thermostat messers-withers to hunt down… You know. The usual. Take care, all. Have a good day!
And now back to our regularly scheduled program.
20 Jan 2012 1 Comment
in Ficrific, I am a nutjob, This belongs in a "mommy blog"
Before I get started, let me first apologize to those that saw my really spectacular low these past few days. No one should have to witness something like that. I’m better now. For those that missed it… Hi! I’m Chelle, and I’m not going crazy at all, I promise! (That’s probably a lie.) (The being crazy part, not being Chelle.) (I think.)
SECONDLY, I need to give a shout out to my very bestest best friend Jam, whose birthday is today. HAPPY BIRTHDAY JAM!
On with the show!
My kids. They are loud. Very loud. Now, I know you could say that about most children, but I’m pretty sure mine take it to extremes. And sometimes, they draw me in. Philomelus will run up to me and shriek in my face. In return, I’ll yell right back at him. Then Ploutos joins in, and next thing I know, all three of us are shrieking at the tops of our lungs, each trying to hit the highest note we possibly can. I usually lose myself in the moment until I realize my throat hurts, then it’s all “Guys! Shush! We can’t be this loud!” As I sheepishly look around to make sure no one saw me being so uninhibited, even though I KNOW there was no one nearby. It’s so much fun. People say that when you’re angry you should just yell to let it out, but I’m saying that the really theraputic thing? Is to scream for the joy of it.
We do it with howling too. It started when I would read Philomelus one of his books about animals. We’d get to the coyote and I would ask him what sound it makes, and my little baby boy would let out the sweetest little howl you ever heard. Sometimes we’d howl at Philomelus just to see if he’d howl back. Then came Navi, who howls. I would love to howl with her, so I try to join in (she shuts up). Then my boys will start and we’re all howling together with the dog looking at us the whole while like we’re nucking futs.
I still have dreams of howling with my dog. It WILL happen some day! What’s that you said about me being crazy? I couldn’t hear you over all the noise.
Ahem. Anyway. I am normally a quiet person that enjoys quiet surroundings, but my kids bring out the child in me. The child that revels in life just because she has it and is absolutely unabashed to let the world, even the universe, know exactly that. I recommend trying it some time. Make some noise, just for the fun of it. I dare you.
