Something funny happened today...

Dang cats,,, that's not funny!!!
(Ok maybe a little,, but still!!)

Something (fun)ny happened yes, but really that's not new for me. I can find comedy anywhere. It scares me sometimes. The other day there were two grasshoppers in my driveway. They were about a foot away from my son's car door. My son was not a big fan of this because these were "Uber" grasshoppers, grasshoppers so large that you could ride them as horses comfortably over hills and through flowered meadow.

Traxx immediately recognized one of the grasshoppers as "Hopper" from Disney's "A bug's Life", and this was certainly a disturbing thing because "Hopper" was very, very mean. But there was more to the story. The bottom uber-grasshopper was dead, and the other was standing over it with one "hand" on its lifeless chest. I swear he looked at me as if to say: "this was a cherished friend and I am in mourning". The girls agreed. I got that feeling he was eulogizing him and I went off into my tangent of an elaborate bug funeral. Everyone joined in adding little totally random trivial snippets about the dead hopper, like the time him and Jiminy Cricket got sick after staying up all night eating candy and annoying people with their chirpy songs . And then I got called weird.

I always get called weird, but I'm OK with that.

If this was in your path, would you jump?

It's very rare that you see an adult letting loose with their kids outside of their home. It's like we have some force field around us as adults that prevents us from just being random and unstructured with them. Are we afraid that others will look and judge us for our childish acts? Certainly if you are doing them without a child with you, there might be a problem (as in my case, snort), but when my kids are with me that's my license to loosen up the ingrained "adult" sensibilities and let us ALL be kids for a while (if in an appropriate situation, of course, yada, yada, yada, wakka, wakka, wakka). I always smile if I see this fun interaction with children in public. And when I am the center of it, it does not embarrass me in the least. But lately I have not been feeling like "myself" and I have been forgetting to do this like I used to. I have to get over that, they won't stop growing up for me to snap back into "me" again, I will just miss valuable time.

So this is what happened today.

My daughter had a dental appointment. I sat in the kids waiting area with Traxx. He was getting a little bored of the activities we had brought and I needed to reel him in a bit. With all of the seats being connected I decided I could get him to use his imagination and pretend we were at a theme park and on a thrill ride. It did not take long before we were engaged. After we put our restraint belts on and the safety bar down over our laps, the announcement to keep your hands and feet in the car at all times was made. I also warned that the coaster was going through a library so we needed to be as quiet as we could (see I'm not rude).

And then,,, we were off.

With a little direction he was in his own colorful world, and I was his sidekick. I wish I could zone back into a kids mind and see what he saw. I showed him how to put his arms up at the tip-top of the hill and the force of turns pushed us into each other as we went around loop-de- loop, giggling quietly with each other. The clicking of the coaster jolted us back each time we climbed a hill and the force of the drop pushed us back into the chairs as we again raised our hands. I am sure this made for a funny visual to those around not "in the know".

Those clinic chairs turned into a fierce dragon-coaster for almost an hour. A few kids joined in cautiously as their parents looked at me as if I was insane.

Two staunch looking elderly adults came in and began to stare at us all. But I was not there for the adults, I was there for my child and we were not harming anyone, the children joining in also kept voices low and the giggles were free but restrained in decibel. The very tame looking individuals decided to sit on the "coaster" wall. Traxx whispered to them that they were on the dragon-coaster and informed them what color their "dragon-cars" were. I expected them to snidely reject his playfulness and possibly move to a better seating arrangement. Instead, they belted up and put their safety bar down for the ride. The woman even asked if we could wait to go until she put her purse down. Of course we did.

There we were, 3 adults and 5 kids on a dragon roller coaster in the middle of a dental clinic, arms in the air, wind whistling through our hair. Not caring that we looked silly, not caring that it made little sense to the passer-bys in the hall, but all living in the moment and enjoying children as they should be enjoyed,,, being kids. And being serenaded with the best sound in the world,,,,, laughter.

When I stood up to leave (Oooops, I mean when we exited the coaster "to the left"), the elderly gentleman grabbed my hand and thanked Traxx and I for the "amazing ride". He served up a sweet wink at me and they continued another pass on the coaster with the remaining children.

I wonder how long the coaster ran today.

I dare you to try this.. I dare you to step out of adult shoes and into those of the little ones. Skip with them in the store.. Eat pop-rocks while swinging at the park.. Share a shake with them while playing a game of "I spy" in a restaurant....

Double Dog Dare you!!! (no one can walk away from a Double Dog Dare!)

"Happily Ever After".. is that ALL we are after?

I have been struggling here to keep up. I miss the interaction with all of my blog family. I don't think any of you know how much I look forward to reading your posts and commenting. When I don't get to.....Aaaaaggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhh I say...Agggghhhaaaaaaaaa... I will get caught back up after this next migraine decides to leave. This is the prologue to the last post I wrote, the serious part if you will.. I will share it with you now.

Let us pour a glass of wine (or carry the wine box over) and reflect together shall we?


Where are you with "Happily Ever After"? Are you in it? Are you still searching for it? Given up? Maybe you had it but it got lost along the way.

As a child my only dream was to be happily married with 2.5 kids in a decent home, comfortable and stable. I have never been materialistic, a fact that helps being in the situation I am in now. But were my expectations too low? That certainly was not the mind set of "shooting for the stars" or a "dream big" philosophy, still, I would have been contented.

By all sense of reality then, I was IN my "Happily Ever After" for a time. Would I ever have the chance for another? I had all of those things I thought it would take, but I forgot something along the way, standing still is boring. Not the raising of the kids and the marriage part of it, but the NOT longing for something else, something grander, never to "settle".

I worked so hard to integrate myself into a "normal" family because my home life was anything but. I needed out and I needed to see what family was about, gatherings, helping in times of need, fighting sometimes, but always having a place to go on holidays. It was all a foreign concept, until I married into one and experienced it first hand, and I liked it. I let my world revolve solely around that entity. I was not an "I", I was part of a package, weakly in the background, doing for everyone but me, never saying "NO".

When I said "I need" (something) I really meant "They want"(something), and I bent backward until they got it.

I lost my dreams, I lost my happily ever after and I am right back in the thick of "not normal". I get invited to go to peoples places on special occasions, I went a few times, I felt like I was hi-jacking THEIR family. It also made me miss the concept of a family even more, it's easier on my heart just NOT going, but that takes its toll too. Now faced with everything I have going on, I see the flicker of a dream in the distance. But I turn away, doubting that I am strong enough to crawl to it. After all, I had my chance.

I have learned that in order for it to materialize, "Happily Ever After" has to change, grow and mutate into different things or you will never be fully aware when you are in it. You will be stagnate, taking for granted the very things that compose a great fairy tale to begin with. The "true" happy ending is compiled through the chapters and excerpts "BETWEEN" the pages and dark paragraphs filled with trials and tribulations. All these experiences tie together somehow in one central foundation of hope, faith, love and the ambition for more.

So as I continue to write my fairy tale ending, where I am now doesn't really matter. I have to let it go. In actuality it's all about those "IN BETWEEN" pages and how I compiled them, the good tempered with the bad, and that I kept writing all along, not afraid of the next twist of plot.

So where are you?

Now THAT'S how you live happily ever after!!!!

With all that blah, blah, blah about living Happily Ever After,,, I can't wait till "Prince Charming" finally shows up. He'll saunter in with his tired looking white steed (obviously the steed is tired because "PC" searched valleys high and low). He remains vigilant through rain, sleet and snow (he might be a postal worker) looking for me. I will gaze into his weary (yet remarkably blue) eyes, (obviously) weary because he slayeth a few dragons for me (they were un-trainable), got "Knighted" (nothing sexier than a Knight, even if it IS only valid at Medieval Times!) and killed my mascara nemesis (sparkly paint-ball fight style).

His journey to me was long and treacherous. He finally figured out that the "code" word for Princess access was "Rumpelstiltskin" (or however you spell it, because I love me a good word game) and climbed up on a braid of the finest hair weave extensions (multi-colored for a fun effect) carrying a glass slipper (that only fits my petite foot) and a case of Sierra Mist (because that's how I roll).

But seconds before addressing me, he was woefully effected by a spell placed on him when he was first born by an oooh, oooh, witchay woman (apparently she was bitter because she got the moon in her eyes). The spell dictated that whenever he sees the most beautiful woman in the world, instead of wooing her with his charms, he turns into a frog. So he sees me and (obviously) **poofs** into an amphibian (albeit a handsome amphibian and I must say, seeing a frog carrying a glass slipper AND a case of Sierra Mist was certainly endearing).

He tries to kiss me (but I wanted to help the environment, so I dumped his green ass back into the contaminated swamp where his tadpoles can have 3 tails and 5 eyes like nature intended).

Now he has to make the harrowing journey all over again (minus the Sierra Mist and now bringing a medium sized bag of Circus Peanuts. Of course I had new demands, I'm fabulous).

This time, he befriends a witch (because she needed frog urine for a spell she is casting) and she turns him back into a handsome prince again, but he really wasn't my type, (he was totally manscaped and smelled like feet), so I gave him a list of my specifications and sent him back (after commandeering the Circus Peanuts- duh) to find the witch with a beaker of the finest frog pee (that I am not sure why I had readily available).

She clicked her heels (which were NOT red OR sparkly), but this ended up sending him to a spiral yellow brick road in the land of OZ anyway (WTF??) where he tamed a girly lion (by bribing him with a lollipop filled with courage and a set of premium prosthetic testicles) and rode him (piggy-back style) to my extremely tall tower. He was now un-manscaped and full of machismo wearing the obligatory "boots and tights" combo and donning a shiny new set of tin armour plates (that the lion was curiously upset about) and he no longer smelled of feet.

After a 8 hour climb (because he knew the sex would be worth it, he took a Viagra and chugged 4- 5 hour energy shots) he spread bundles of hay (which strangely enough, the lion also had a strong attachment to) on the wooden bed to soften our lovemaking. Some hay was also scattered on a table (to cushion it for the lion's premium prosthetic testicle operation, which I don't think "PC" was qualified to do).

I was out of my tower at the time (painting the roses red, because I like singing that song). I'm pissed because he should have known that (because I tweeted about it).

But alas, he sees me in the garden with heavens light haloing down on me.

After all of that turmoil (and after I kick the lion out because he won't stop crying and smelling handfuls of hay), Prince Charming takes me softly in his arms and gently touches my cheek (cause he's a puss and wouldn't slam a gal up against her own tower wall--- rolls eyes).

As he is leaning in for our first kiss (I burp on him because I drank too much Sierra Mist) and I say with quivering tongue:

"Oh my, excuuuse me, but, meh (shrug), I went ahead and married the teen aged soft pretzel boy from the mall because my daughter said that we ALL would live like SOOOOO happily ever after if my husband was a soft pretzel maker."

... And I showed Prince Charming my stunning soft pretzel wedding ring with rock salt accents..... He could only agree with my daughter (because he knew he really couldn't top mad soft pretzel making skillz,, I mean really,, who can?).

As he rode his steed off into the distance (sobbing over me and on his way to the ER because he had an erection for more than 4 hours) my husband "Dex" (who was, to my despair, "naturally" manscaped because of age) drove up in his neon green Tokyo drift car blaring techno and smelling all doughy,,,,, (but carrying a big bag of fresh, warm soft pretzels).

At this time I felt I should ask Dex about the wisp of tan lion hair and blood stuck to the new dent in his bumper, but I don't (because the aroma of pretzels overtakes me and I needed to make sure I had mustard).

....And we lived like SOOOOO happily ever after...

The End

.....urrrrrrrp
(it's the Sierra Mist, really it is)

The Procession

She was feared, bitter and alone, yet very well off as a widow of a multi-millionaire husband. He had always left her widowed even while he was with her. She lived the life of extreme appearance with people envying the money with no clue of the heartbreak it financed. Her nights were spent in the rainbow reflections of crystal chandeliers, drinking dark rum and smoking clove cigarettes with ease. No children were conceived and no animals wandered the halls of the mansion. She gave to no one and asked nothing above exceptionally grand service from her staff. Her worldly needs were met and she was too hardened to feel the rest.

A long night on a silk pillow yielded a dream, a harsh reminder to her future if she did not change her ways of bitter retorts and angry rampages. She had, in a darkened dream state, perished there in the core of her cold mansion. The funeral procession consisted of an imposing hearse that crept along gathering drops of rain, followed by an ominous black car with an emotionless parishioner at the wheel. There was not a single friend or family member to shed tears or speak words of sweet recognition. An elaborately detailed coffin shined against the rich black dirt. The only acknowledgment of her life came from the unknown parishioner who uttered the words “change now” with bland conveyance as he dropped a single white rose on cue. The sound of the rose hitting the coffin jarred her awake. She calmed her breathing and questioned her path.

The very next day she gave her first donation to charity. The week after, she dressed and stood unassumingly behind a food line dishing green beans to dirty faces, looking straight in the eyes of financial despair, this time without judgment.

She traveled out of her comfort zone to read and donate books to the children living on the bad side of town. She walked the dogs at the shelter, laughing at the mud on her outrageously priced sneakers she had never had occasion to wear before. She started to give her time and love freely to things she had never considered worthy before.

That night the procession in her dream grew by ten cars, the rose count was up to five.

A month later she heard talk of a mother with a daycare issue. Her son, aged 3, was autistic and as a single mother, she did not have the money to get him into proper care. He kept getting kicked out of establishments because of his anger issues. His mother was very close to losing her job and had no options for care available. She knew it sounded absurd, but possibly she could take care of him, at least for a while until proper care was located.

That night her procession grew to 30 cars, the rose count was 45.

When she met him she was fearful. The mother stood shaking and tearing up on her porch, leading her to believe this was going to be a battle she may not win. What place does an elderly woman with no children have taking a toddler in, especially with noted behavior issues? But his eyes read pain, and now that she had felt the gift that being charitable affords, she had no hesitation.

He was a messy boy with crystal blue eyes and a loss of contact. She started her days researching things that may help her with him. She became obsessed with giving this child every opportunity to be turned around and succeed, even with his disabilities. She began stumbling on different therapies and new learning techniques. Information about little known food reactions haunted her. She ascertained that common chemicals in food could cause certain children to show developmental and behavioral issues. She was able to provide the finest in dietary management and doctor care for the boy she had since fallen in love with. He improved daily and to every one's amazement went on to excel scholastically and socially.

In her time left, she fostered 8 more children just as she had done for the boy. All of the children had varied success levels, but each one was a valued relationship and adopted grandson or granddaughter to her. She was adored by each of the children's family members as well and raved about in the small town for her heart of gold.

As her health continued to fail she still gave freely of herself. She was visited often for her wisdom and charm and was known for trying to donate anonymously to her community, even though they all knew she was the benefactor.

While being interviewed by the local paper, she answered a question about why she had chosen to help so many after being secluded for so long. Her answer was simple and profound.

"It is never too late to reevaluate your place here in life and give back, I am blessed I did not run out of time before I was able to see that. A wealth of happiness will follow when you find your real net worth."

She stopped to take the hand of her interviewer and shared a knowing smile before continuing.

"And, it's NEVER found in the bank." She whispered while placing her hand over his heart and coyly winking.

She passed away the next week.

At her funeral there were 150 cars in a grand lighted procession, the number of roses left in her honor was too vast to count.

Combatting Swamp Ass/Bog Butt- A world-wide PSA event

Oh,, it does so!!!
Wanna race me and find out?
And I see through your clothes too!!
And the third arm is "handy" sometimes!!

But it's even more of an important issue than THIS
(if you can believe that!!)

I would like to take time out of my regular posting frivolity to talk candidly to you about an issue that seems to be plaguing the men of the world.

I am confused. Very confused. I got an email from a guy who said that he saw my blog on Swamp Ass. He said he had to write me because I was cute/funny and he just had to tell me that. This confuses me because I don't have a blog on "Swamp Ass". And it doesn't sound like a very pleasant blog to visit, and I certainly wouldn't want to live vicariously through other bloggers THERE!! There are enough loonies on Blogger for me to stay addicted!! (you know who you are!!). I tried to look up Swamp Ass.com and could not find it (don't cry, I'm sure it's a nice place if you're on it, I won't judge you).

The Urban dictionary saved the day and cured my Swamp Ass ignorance issues by defining what Swamp Ass is for me. I had no idea. So now my blog is Edutaining (educated + entertaining)..

I'm a giver.

This is the definition according to the Urban Dictionary:

Swamp Ass:
A condition where you sweat a lot in the ball/ass region and it releases a terrible smell. Other factors contributing to the condition is not wiping properly or not showering.

Can also be called "Bog Butt". (ie: "Bubba's got Bog Butt again!")

Here is an example of the word being used in a sentence.

I was standing behind Jordan and he smelled bad I said: "wow you have some bad swamp ass!"

Now I can categorize the problem with terminology conducive to a medical condition and not just say:

"Holy Halibut, WTF is THAT smell!!!!!"

.....Instead, I can be more empathetic and throw out a:

"Holy Halibutt, WTF, Swamp Ass got you coming AND going didn't it???!!!"

I wonder if the red bears in the Charmin commercial have been diagnosed yet?

Are you laughing because I should have known what this was?? Are you laughing because everybody else in bloggyland knows what Swamp Ass is and my innocence is sweet and endearing?

----OR----

is it because I got another "interesting" dating opportunity "with a special twist" and you are a bit jealous of my game and swagga? Hate the game not the player people!! I would have rather had another unsolicited "pipe pic" to add to my deleted collection (Ok maybe I kept one)

No really.....I kept 2..... laughing

To further "edutain" you and arm you with the latest in Swamp Ass knowledge needed to combat this little spoken about issue, I submit the following video of a product that is recommended to cure Swamp Ass!!

(Stay tuned (if you can) until at least 1:14 when Lanny the contractor gives his glowing testimonial,,well,, not much,,,,,, he cracked me up!!! Get it? CRACK...I slay me....)



They should have hired "The Hoff" I am sure he wouldn't have cost much more than the Hoff look-a-like they got!!

You're Welcome!!! Now go get some Aspray and have a Kickin' Swamp Ass-less Day!!!

Happiness orgasms!!

I has dem!! Well no, I did not REALLY have the physical manifestation of an "sexual" orgasm, but, I did have a pretty cool "Orgasm of the Soul" (you should try one,,, they're magnificent!!).

Traxx started VPK this week. He is psyched about being a "BIG BOY" in school now and some of the "baby" things I used to do for him are being shrugged off in his newly found independence. But the bedtime "snuggle bear" is still fully in tact ( I think more for me than him). His hair was looking all "Bieberish" so drastic measures needed to be taken. I would have him shorn after "school". Right by his school is a Barber shop and since I was early and they were open, I decided to go ahead and get it done there.

I walked into a bevvy of hot Latin men or as I will now refer to it: Heaven. I lust openly over really appreciate me a nice hot Latin man (grrrrrrrr). But they were hardly "MEN" most were terrifyingly younger than me and all were fluently speaking Spanish. Now in my swizzly, swirly weird genius mind, in situations as these, tends to wander a bit into the land of "Seductressville" (population me). I tend to "imagine" that all of these "R" rolling hotties were admiring me in impure ways. Reality dictates that this is NOT the case, but, meh, who needs reality, I like my world better.

We were ushered into Adonis's chair and I told him that my son needed a faux hawk from a hair artisan. He was trying to hold back his longing for me professional and courteous. The Spanish talk about my fabulosity (hidden cleverly as small talk) continued until the young man next to me complimented my hair,, and then my sparkles, this is where the happiness orgasm happened. I made a comment about trying to stay young with the fun spikes and sparkled cleavage that he clearly admired. He smiled and touched my arm, I gushed and blushed like a school girl until the guy cutting Traxx's hair waved his hand in front of my face to ask if I would join him in the back for a romp what size clipper to use on the sides. I then disclosed, in a playful whisper, my age (cough-boo-hiss). The room gasped. And the youngster went on and on about how I did NOT look 40 and asked if he could say something "respectfully" to me. I stuttered:"Yes, please". And he said" "You are a very beautiful woman". I think when he hits puberty he will do very well with the ladies!

The moral of the story (besides me lusting over a handful of men) is:

It's hard to imagine what simple words like those spoken respectfully by a stranger can impact your day in such a positive way. And here with me having all of the health and life issues something that simple really just made my steps "floatier" and my smile brighter. You never know what that person in front of you in line is dealing with. A quick "You look very nice today" or even a "nice shoes!" can lessen the blow of a shitty day somehow. It only takes a moment to compliment someone and you never know what effect it has on them. Times are hard and simple gestures are FREE and not used often enough.

Follower Homework Assignment:

Go out and compliment at least 5 people today and see how it makes you feel. I bet you'll be surprised that it actually makes YOU feel good too!!

Dear pretty, pretty Moxie dolls, I am sorry for your luck!

Yes, you were chosen to come into a household where a child got caught painting Rollie-Pollie's (pill bugs) in pretty pearly pastel hues. I don't think the bugs minded very much because they carried it very well actually and let's be honest, it was an improvement on a dull gray exterior. We let them go as somehow the paint had not taken their lives (except the lavender one).

We cried as we waved and I gave the bugs some motherly advice:

"If any other RP's give you a hard time about your girly hues, tell them, that's just how you roll!" (I slay me!)

But the Moxie dolls that come into our home were purchased for their stunning beauty and really did not need makeovers. And in fact they were perfectly IN TACT when I went to bed.

The girls who had had bouts of roaring sibling rivalry and multiple occurrences of the dreaded "silent treatment" that day, had banded together some time in the night to revamp the Moxie collection!

I first knew of this when I experienced the pain of stepping on a discarded Moxie piece. I don't know how this happens but if there is a small toy with sharp angles any where in my home, it will relocate in the middle of the night to be the center point in my direct darkened path to the restroom. I have "toy" shaped scars on my feet and have made up new 4-letter words courtesy of my late night pain infused trips to the restroom.

I picked the piece up and examined it. What I saw was a bit traumatizing because I really was not expecting to find an appendage in the hallway. The Moxie foot was left there without the slightest attempt of saving its integrity. How callous was this? Even I know that an appendage has the chance at being reattached if kept in a cooler of ice (which is clearly available in Barbie's RV site) and quickly taken to the Moxie hospital where Moxie surgeons are waiting to perform an operation to save the limb. There was no blood at the scene, but the foot itself did have teeth marks on it from some sort of animalistic attack (or just DramaGirl's boredom and infatuation with chewing straws and such).

Now the doll would have to be fitted with a prosthetic limb and go through months of rehabilitation.

As I made it to the bathroom, I noticed something else was tickling my newly pained blue piggies. I flip the lights on only to find the silken flowing locks of a brunette Moxie mixed in with the long snippets of the once coveted blonde Moxie. The hair had once flowed luxuriously past their rear ends (as mine had done when I was younger which was irritating because I always sat on it and jerked my head back with alarming speed and jarring anguish) was now snipped to their shoulders.

What horror has happened here? What monster would cut such lovely strands of hair off of a freaking $25 Moxie doll!!!

And NOT to save the strands for "Moxie Locks of Love"???

This would need to be addressed. Balding Moxie dolls were missing out on quality esteem boosting wigs, this angered me.

But as not to take any chances with myself being footaly amputated and strandularly shaven in the hours before the morn, I shivered as I looked in on the suspects and locked my bedroom door...

The guilty ones were softly woken in the AM:

"GET UP!!! WERE LATE!!!"

And I gathered my information of the maulings. Turns out the Moxie feet are detachable due to the fact that she wears "skinny jeans" and such. Who knew?

And..... in a surprising intellectual move to cajole her mother, the suspect claimed the hair stylings were said to be executed so that they would match mine, because my hair is so "cute".

Hmmmmm. Well done spawn-o-mine!

And yes I will have that "respect your things" and "those are expensive" talks with them but I can't help but flash back to the time I tried to curl my Barbie's hair and it wouldn't "take" so I left the iron on, with the Barbie hair in it, to go play outside and came back to find out that a Barbie head/face is essentially hollow when burnt through with a curling iron and synthetic Barbie hair does not take well to heated appliance styling AT ALL!!

**UPDATE**

The location of 2 Moxie feet is still in question and suspicious bite marks were again found on the Moxie doll leg stumps.

Some things will forever be shrouded in mystery.

The problem with me.....

So how's the diet going... very well I say....VERY WELL!!

I have been eating plenty of brightly colored Vegetables and Proteins along with some Fruits.

So basically:

Brightly colored veggies

Beans for protein

AND

Fresh fruit

I kid, I kid!!!!

I really I have had this on tap:

Aw, dang, REALLY,,, well THAT was RUDE!!!

actually

I GLISTEN and ADD SWEET AROMATIC AMBIANCE

and I don't run,, unless there's a bug or a swarmy man
or
FREE MASCARA

But seriously, it has been going well, every time I mention something that actually has taste in it like the Fig Newtons I love, my loving daughter says:

"If you eat THAT you will NOT get the surgery and start to "LIVE" again, do you WANT to DIE for a cookie?"

(slight pause for the clarification of who is the wise parental one)

(Jeopardy music)

(once confirmation is reached)

I say:

"......Uh,,,,, no,,,, but it's NOT a cookie,,, it's FRUIT and CAKE,,, says it right 'chahere on the package!!"

.... And we laugh and laugh....

Yesterday I took the girls to McDonalds and got them each a $1.99 Happy Meal, but I was mad at them so I told the order taker to take the HOPE out (insert laugh here)!!

See,, this is the problem with me, I tell a lot of jokes that nobody "gets", my kids "got it" though because we had just seen the commercial with the kids looking for the "invisible" HOPE in each Happy Meal box.

.... And we laughed and laughed...

And I also ordered a large Diet Coke..

And when she handed it to me she said: "Here's your diet!!"

I looked at the cup and then looked at her and said: "God I wish it was that easy!"

...... and I laughed and laughed

..... and they stared and stared until I clarified:

"A DIET in a cup...GET IT... You said "here's your DIET!! I drink it down and I'm done!! Here's your DIET!!"

(this is where I take the time to mimic handing the cup back to her..... And wait patiently for the payoff of my punch line....

....And I laugh and laugh.....

(awkward silence)

See,, that's the problem with me.

Home Owners Association Hell

So I got back from my hospital stint and have survived thus far. However I am perky shade of green and am woefully reminded of "THAT" episode of The Family Guy (I'll link below for you, you're welcome!!).

I woke up to the sound of petulant thumping on my door. It was my elderly Home Owners Association Minion coming to lay down the law with me.

A week or so ago we had a storm that knocked all my dead palm fronds to high hell. I had drug them one by one to pile neatly beside my garage. These things are huge and heavy abominations to my sunny Florida skyline. When properly trimmed they are gorgeous, if not, we are risking life and limb walking out my front door. It is expensive to trim them because they are 10,000 feet tall! But the frond pile had only been there less than a week.

Him: **pound** Pound** pound**

Me: WTF!!! It's only 8Am!!! (I walk to the door with my comforter around me) ..why does he always come when I'm almost nakey? Dammit.. (I wipe the hair out of my face and open the door with a smile of hatred)

Asshole: This "REFUSE" by your garage needs to be eliminated or I WILL issue a citation!!

Me: That's unfortunate because I have just gotten out of the hospital, I have no one to help me and I can't do anything with it right now, I'm so sorry, I will take care of it as soon as I can.

Idiot: Well if it's not gone by tomorrow I will issue it.. I WILL.. tomorrow.

Me: Really? Can I just have a few days please?

Meanie: No, it needs to be gone by TOMORROW!

Me: Could you issue citations to the punks that litter my yard and knock on my window at 2AM? Or how about the ones who race down this street and threaten my children's life? The one's who steal everything I leave outside for more than an hour? Or maybe the drug dealers down the road that bring in riff-raff every night and make us feel uncomfortable, have you cited them lately? Gun shots, well those don't seem too nice in this community either, perhaps we could do something about those as well? But you must live in the "good" part of this neighborhood, I wish I did. Perhaps it would be neighborly if you helped me, would you like to help me?

(I pause to give a big Seductress smile)

(he found no humor or empathy in his heart with my pleas)

Doorknob: If THEY have refuse in their yard I WOULD cite them. And you had better cut your grass!

Me: Sir, this has been there less than a week, please give me a few days so that I can get someone to deal with them, I promise it will be gone in a week, I have been sick.

Wicked witch of the West: Tomorrow.......And your little dog too!!!!

(I made that last part up about the dog, that's a great line, someone should write a movie with that in it, and perhaps a tornado and a rainbow...YES!!... a RAINBOW!!!)

He storms off to a "smart car" playfully painted green and white that was purchased with my tax money. No one looks cool OR threatening in a smart car. I laugh and wave as he stuffs himself in it.

I don't want to live like this anymore. I hate that I can't justify spending $40 every two weeks to cut my grass because my children need things as frivolous as food and toilet paper. But I am doing the best that I can. I do not live in a gated community with 5 car garages and fancy landscaping. It is perfectly acceptable for 5 or 6 palm fronds to be neatly piled by my garage for a week. So I moved them. I put them in my storage shed.

A few days later I went to the hospital again. When I had come home this time, my neighbor had cut my grass for me (it was so sweet, they are new and had found out I was sick, I am glad their are still people out there like that!)

BUT...

.........they left a pile of trimmings NEATLY piled by my garage.

The next freaking day HOA Minion comes back.

At 8AM AGAIN!!!!!

**pound**pound**pound**

Me: (sarcastically sappy sweet) Wonderful morning isn't it sir?

Jerkface: You have another pile.

Me: Yes, it was born yesterday, I call it Fred and it's a really sweet little bundle of branches.

Tyrant: You have until tomorrow to remove it.

Me: But I love it! What if I trim it in the shape of my patience being stepped on, you know, like every time you knock on my door at 8AM.. the morning after something is NEATLY piled by my garage.

Scrooge: Tomorrow......

(he shakes his fist in the air each time, it's really attractive AND assertive!!)

Me: Sir, all kidding aside, the grass got cut yesterday, it is neat and tidy now, is it unacceptable for me to ask for a few days to dispose of this? I don't have a truck and I don't have the money right now to pay to have it removed and again, I am sick, I just got out of the hospital yesterday I am doing the best I can, can't you see that by the yard being done??

Puppy kicker: I will cite you tomorrow then.

Me: Bless you, I knew you'd understand!

And I closed the door before he could say anything else. But he left me a big red warning taped on my garage. What a kind soul. I went out and moved the pile into my shed again.

Next time I am going to tie a balloon to the door handle of his "smart car" and watch it float away!

WHO WANTS CHOWDA???

Game Face!!!

Well....Game eyes!!
These are my don't muss with me eyes!!
You skerred?

SOMEONE said I was turning into a Crazy Cat Lady. We won't mention any names here but he was swimming around in the same tummy pool as I was at one time...

ahem, nudge, waving flamboyantly

This affected me.. Fighting the world takes a lot out of a gal ya know. Continuing the current fight when there are even loftier wars scheduled on your day planner gets pretty old as well. My biggest battles are ahead,, but alas,, my pen is ready,, to write down the screwed up way my brain processes hardship into a warped comedy script that can be hopefully enjoyed by all.

In referring to the Crazy Cat Lady comment,,, I guess I have been in a hide-out status lately. But that's only because of my secret Ops missions that I have been successfully completing. And trust me- you should be very grateful to me for saving the world in the way that I have been lately!

The egregious use of blue eyeshadow anywhere above the lash line- yep- working on that.

Sweatpants with words like "Baby Phat" on the ass,, writing a law against them.

Spidery mascara and make-up that makes you look like "Edward Cullen".. forming a coalition against it!!

No seriously.........

YOU WILL THANK ME
(unless you are a Jersey Shore gal..)

It's been easier for me to stay indoors and shut out the world. I don't feel like me, I don't have my "wee bit" of DivaXtrodinary confidence I once had, in me anymore, I need to get that back and stop punishing myself like this.

Point taken.

I am OK with being the "Crazy" lady that everyone wants to be around, but not "The Crazy Cat-Lady" that everyone avoids as she sits in the dark knitting "paw cozies" out of lint balls. Besides, I have never owned a cat because I think they are banning together with a plan to take over the world.

Fetch me some milk my Minion!

You are fooling yourself if you think they really love you and will take you "with them" on the conquest. They are all trained in psychology and are talking about you behind your back.. Purrrrrrr my ass!! Plotting is more like it!!

Today I journeyed out for a bit. Where did I go? Oh, well, do you really want to know? I went to Walmart. I needed things like "spam lite", Green Olives, diet water and molding wax to get my feisty rocker chic hair spikes back.

As I leafed through a Glamour magazine for new Fall make-up ideas,, I saw these:

And mama does love a fierce long boot but her legs are only 12 inches long so these will never work unless they start executing the "leg transplant" surgery I have been suggesting in my "Long Boot Lovers That Can't Wear Long Boots" therapy class.

But I decided to go to a cheap shoe store anyway, and I don't even really need shoes!!

Viva-La-Adventure!!!

And I saw these:

Oooooh Sparkles!!

...and grommety things!!!

And after the lengthy photo shoot I had (for your interactive blog post reading benefit), I said:

"Well,, aren't you a fabulous reminder of the Sparkleiscious life that I used to live?!"

.....and:

"I could just wrap you around me and love you like the devil on a cold winters night!"

.....and I started to sing:

"Blinded by the light, revved up like a douche ...(I mean deuce), another runner in the night.. Blinded by the light, revved up like a deuce, another runner in the night.. Madman drummers bummers, Indians in the summer with a teenage diplomat.. In the dumps with the mumps as the adolescent pumps his way into his hat.. With a boulder on my shoulder, feelin' kinda older, I tripped the merry-go-round.. With this very unpleasin', sneezin' and wheezin, the calliope crashed to the ground..... (Sniffle) The calliope crashed to the ground..... (Sobbing) But she was... Blinded by the light, revved up like a deuce, runner in the night......

.....(in my best falsetto voice) ...

BLINDED........BLINDED....

(bow, bow, no really, shrugging off the standing ovation (as there were no chairs readily available) bow, curtsy, blowing kisses)

As the customers audience started to video me with their cell phones and I continued to dance with my Sparkleiscious shoes,, the manager could only stare in shock admire me a few moments before he came over and snatched my "musical muse of inspiration" shoes out of my delicate jazz hands. Yes, I agree!! HOW RUDE!!!

But,,, I now know that after my surgery and recovery time, I will purchase those shoes and go to the town square gazebo and dance fiercly in my "musical muse of inspiration" shoes in front of my towns people in celebration of yet another victory.

Advance tickets go on sale October 1st.

Tomorrow I journey back to the hospital for another round of fun and I will be back with you in a few days to tell you about how I scared the surgeon with a ketchup packet and a properly executed "Scream Queen" howl!! (giggle, snort)

Now SING:

Same as it ever was......

"Where have you been Seductress?" You ask while you stroke your perfectly tanned 6 pack, playfully winking as you motion me to touch as well.

"Oh, I'm so glad you asked!" I say with a giggle as I "play" your "washboard" abs and offer a slight wince at the memory of my last week or so.

And then..... I decide I don't want to share with YOU after all because you are just going to run home to ANOTHER Internationally known Supermodel who is half the woman I am (literally) but not nearly as stunningly beautiful as I am (cough) and pretend you were golfing all night (hmpf).

I have better things to do with my imaginary where-abouts conversation..

Now let's start again shall we?

Next imaginary follower interviewee please.

(the next follower sits down and adjusts himself)

"Seductress, I have missed you soooooooooooooooooooo much and my blogality (blog/reality...winks) has not been the same without you, tell me where you have been, I pray, as it has agreed with you in that you look radiant tonight in your lace corset and exoticly wild purrrrr-y cat-like eyes."

"Oh my, do go on about my exoticly wild purrrrr-y cat-like eyes!!" I say whilst "vogueing".

Wait. Do you people REALLY want to know what happened?

Pull up a ergonomically designed and aesthetically beautiful aluminum folding chair.. What? There are a lot of you!!

I am depressed.

It's been a bad medical week for me. Which turned into a bad "I hate making decisions like these" week, which turned into a bad "situation" week and is ending with a bad "Maybe I made the wrong decision" thought and a bad "will I ever be well" thought process and a bad "I want to get drunk and stupid" longing (which I didn't really do, thank you) which is leading to a bad "eat a whole cheesecake" episode (which sadly is haunting me and may still come into play).

The general theme was....... play along with the home game....... BAD!!!

I won't bore you with ALL of my awful realities this week, but here's a start...

A few months ago my doctor put me on medication to strengthen my organs (not orgasms sadly).. HUH? Who said that?

Well, I need another surgery and you kind of need strong organs to get through it.. So this medicine is pretty much like those pill sized capsules you can buy at the register of any respectable rinky-dink souvenir shop that you put in water and.. ba-WAAAM-O.. they turn into a comforter size beach towel ... You take it,, you expand like Violet in Willy Wonka....

"Seductress, you're turning,, uh,, even more,, seducing!!"

For me, not so happy with the whole idea at play here. But I need this surgery and I go into him last week and say sweetly: "Please Sir, let me have the surgery so I can live again!".

.. Only I am clinging onto his lab coat and standing on his stomach as he is vertical on the blandly colored industrial tile floor pleading for the practice's "big nurse" to help him and dodging the stray white foam that is flinging from my now growling mouth.

He says... Lets do it.. In a month.. But now I want you to lose the extra weight first..

WTF!!!!

BACK THE TRUCK UP!!

........... Dude YOU CAUSED this extra flippin' weight!!! I begged you NOT to do this to me... remember... tears... sweat... sobbing... You're too weak you NEED the steroids... your blood pressure... blah blah blah... remember???

This could ONLY happen to me...

I have to lose almost 30 pounds in a month... and then... they will slice and dice me back to health...

So when I got home I drank Strawberry Zinfadel in a 7-11ish big gulp resembling cup and watched a TLC channel "wedding"-- "romance"-- "remind yourself- your single, old and alone" marathon and tried not to drunk text (although I did not really get drunk, I say this for effect, I only had a glass or 3).

And I have to go in Monday for yet another ERCP procedure. YIPPEEEEEEEE!!!!!

There is more but I am here to say that I am sorry I have missed all of your posts and will catch up as soon as I emotionally and physically can..

Today I am sick, snuggling a heating pad and watching "Kendra" on VH1 try to set up her mother on a blind date. Sounded cute and all until I realized this grown ass woman was setting up her MOTHER with guys in my general dating age bracket.....facepalm.....

.....and the 7-11ish big gulp resembling cup comes back out..... But it is filled with water...

*SIGH*


Is this my beautiful life? Well,, How did I get here?

What have I forgotten lately?????

I forgot that I'm human and therefore not perfect

I forgot what it feels like to be unconditionally loved, but not what it feels like when it stops

I forgot that I need to be with others, and not push them away because I am scared

I forgot that I am worthy

I forgot that me doing the right thing, doesn't always mean the right thing is done

I forgot that the ones who said they will always be there and weren't, must have forgotten what it feels like to find out some one's not

I forgot that pain is supposed to make you stronger, if it does not kill you

I forgot that you might not see all of my flaws as harshly as I do

I forgot that it's OK to lose at one game if you're not afraid to start another

I forgot how strong depression is and how weak we become when lost in it

I forgot that being alone can happen when you're not

I forgot what a real kiss feels like

I forgot that being loved and being in love is too different things

I forgot that hope doesn't always guarantee that what you hoped for, is what you actually needed

I forgot how important my smile is to others

I forgot how important my smile was to me

I forgot that one battle ending does not mean you won the fight

I forgot that the tiniest life raft looks like a yacht to someone who is drowning

I forgot my storm was never yours

I forgot having my love would be YOUR honor

I forgot what it feels like to look forward to the night ending and the sun hitting my skin

I forgot that laughing AT myself isn't always the best medicine

I forgot that sometimes being selfish is not

A post like this clears up some things in my head. Maybe there are some things you have forgotten, I could go on and on but it comes down to one thing:

Remembering is harder than forgetting sometimes.

Don't it make my brown eyes blue!!

**Special announcement: Remember that chain letter that you didn't forward to 12 people and an ostrich and because of that you are doomed to having giant pigeons poop in your eye? Well if you go HERE

Because I am being interviewed for SUPAHSTAH SATURDAY.....All of that will disappear!!! But if you don't........

You won't know when.... You won't know how.... But:

pwsssssssopotsssssskersplat!!!!!!!!!

Pigeon Poop right in the EYE!!!!!

Now back to todays post...already in progress...


Lately I have been crying a lot about everything it seems.

The following items have made me cry lately:

*McDonald's commercials- (huh?)- Well,, OK,, 2 of my kids have graduated from "Happy Meals" to "Mighty Kid's Meals" dammit!!!!

*Hannah Montana- Because Hannah wants to just be "MILEY" and not HANNAH anymore!!!!

*That pretty weed flower in the yard - It died!!!!

*The Trix rabbit- Because we ALL know,,, he will NEVER get that bowl of fruity cereal that he NEEDS as a part of his wholesome daily nutritional breakfast (if you add an orange and a piece of toast) he's gonna get scurvy or Squaids!!!! And I'm tired of pussy-footin' around the truth with him!!!!

*SPORKS- My SPORK broke and I had to publicly denounce my love for them!!!!

*Icy Hot- It freaking got on my lady parts and I still feel the sting!!!!

....and then......

I was for some strange reason watching the cheer leading movie "Bring It On"..

Sniffle,, snort,, sniffle...

Don't laugh..

I got emotional when they won the competition..

I am still sobbing a little misty..

It's just that the underdogs never really win in life and it was nice to see them come out from behind the shadows and win,,,

,,,you know 'cause it WAS broughtent and all.. and... It ...It ... It...

It makes me wanna scream the following statement at life:

LIFE....... I BROUGHT IT!!! (did you even SEE my sparkles???)

.....and all I got is this lousy T-shirt that says "DORK"!!??

(insert ugly cry)

I could wonder why this is happening, but I have always been sensitive to things. I think maybe the fact that I am turning 40 soon is causing it though. I guess I would be alright with turning 40 if things in my life were better.

The following are two examples of how my life could be better:

If Brendan Frasier would drop the stalking case against me "that" girl,,,, like really Brendan,, is me "someone" staring in your windows SOOOOO scary you have to call the big bad police on "her" and then chase "her" down the boulevard while "she" is wearing a caveman costume ONLY as loving tribute to YOUR movie Encino man (which was released in Europe as California Man and is a 1992 comedy film directed by Les Mayfield and starring (you) Brendan Fraser, Sean Astin and Pauly Shore. The plot revolves around two geeky teenagers from Encino, Los Angeles, California played by Astin and Shore, who discover a caveman in their backyard frozen in a block of ice. The caveman, played by (you) my lovely Brendan Fraser, has to learn to live in the new 20th century. Along the way, (you) teach them one or two things about life (swooooon). It was followed by a TV movie sequel, Encino Woman (which YOU were not in and it sucked because of that.....) filmed in 1996... ...it's not like "she" is crazy/obsessed with you and knows all the details of your life or something.. (Brendan James Fraser, born December 3, 1968, is a Canadian-American actor of stage and screen. He has starred in many major Hollywood films, including The Mummy film series, Crash, Dudley Do-Right, Looney Tunes: Back in Action, George of the Jungle, (white shirt with horse,,, droooooool) as well as, Journey to the Center of the Earth and Encino Man (see above).

Born in Indianapolis, Indiana, the son of Canadian parents Carol, a sales counselor, and Peter Fraser, a former journalist who worked as a Canadian foreign service officer for the Government Office of Tourism.),,, but whatever dude..

I mean a REALLY,, you NEED a restraining order,,, come on,,, I'm "she's"only 4'11" for cripes sake!!

OK!!

Or maybe if Victoria Beckham would just concede that David loves me just a little a lot more than her and her face is actually stuck that way even without Botox (reality, duh),,, life would just be easier,, but it's not.

Love the new TAT don't you?

And it's not just about a man, although that would be a freakin' fantastic nice addition, it's every damn thing.....

I have so many hopes and dreams that seem to be too outlandish to become reality at this stage in the game. There really is boatloads of imaginative real estate in my brain that I should be profiting off of. Instead,,, all of this imagination swirls around me at night singing show tunes in grand Broadway performance fashion, complete with little white gloved jazz hands.

That's not weird right?

(Seductress is rocking back and forth in her chair,, again crying..)

That's it.. I need a list of reasons why it's cool to be 40..

Please enter your reason in the comment section below........ And if you're not 40 yet, just tell me I'm sane and that it will be alright... or send Circus Peanuts... either one really.

(whispers: Circus Peanuts)

Thank you in advance for your help.

...And for not sending the psychiatric professionals.

(insert Godfather theme music here)

Yesterday I would have my second encounter with the Mafia.

The following is a true story.

The first time I encountered the Mafia was in Russia, many, many years back. We were building a processing plant in Siberia. A week before we had arrived to the small town of Langapas, the town's only restaurant was burnt to the ground. The Russian Mafia was being touted as guilty in the suspicious arson. Seems the owners did not pay up and kiss enough Mob-boss rings to keep the business safe. This again was all just "suspicion" as no one would ever actually prove it was the doing of the Mob, safer to gossip about it and enforce the other small businesses to ante up payments every month.

They could not speak English and always stood stoically guarding the entrance to the apartment building we were staying in. But my encounters with a Mobster were helpful in my fantasy life (but only in fantasy, as I was married at that time), in fact, it still fuels the Seductress fire.

They all intrigued me, stoking that sense of danger, but only he, was the one on my wandering mind.

He was a tall dark shadow of a man, wearing a long black leather coat, one hand tucked in safely holding what you knew was a formidable firearm. His presence was verified by the others swarming around like ants and the silver BMW idling in front of a town where having a car was frowned upon as "excess". We were told not to look them in the eye as if they held the key to us making it out in one piece. We were not to speak, they knew why we were there and that it would help their profits, so we were safe, not threatening, exonerated from the fear they brought.

But why would I listen? I should have by all means been weary of him, but my life was droll and I was a feisty American with a little Italian bravado of my own worked in. But I wasn't stupid, I did remain ever aware of the sexy presence that greeted me as I walked home ALONE everyday.

One shot of those dark eyes and I was lost in his world.

We began an innocent flirtatious relationship. I felt less geeky when he spoke to me with Russian flair and smiled so provocatively. "N'Yet, Americaneets", was the only thing I said the first day. It was supposed to be Russian for: "No, American", my way of telling him I spoke no Russian, as if he did not already know. I brought him fresh bread and he spoke to me fluently as I gushed and ran up the million stairs to my apartment.

This would be a highlight in my life, a little "naughty" thing that put me in danger, although I never felt that with him. I looked forward to seeing him there, I should have been nervous, I giggled with him and squirmed with each visit. And then, on the last day, he gave ME bread, a hug and a sweet little kiss on the cheek that I can still feel. I never told anyone about him, until now. But I wanted to slam that Russian against the wall everyday for 3 months!!! Maybe that's why I Y vodka in my diet coke...

Yesterday's visit with the Mob was quite different.

This was an elderly Mob I found at "Little Joey's" Italian restaurant while I was scoring an antipasto salad. The two "founding" members sat at the head table alert to every activity in the joint. There was little talking in the place as I watched member after member "check in" with them before disappearing into the back. Everyone dressed in a very pristine manner with a flair for wool hats, Pompadours and embellished canes.

Was this the little known "Snowbird" Mob? What acts could they possibly have in planning?

The shroud of questions prodded at me as I bravely stayed longer than I should have to get the answers I needed. Time lapsed and bread sticks flew. A ruckus whirled from the back as the members, all departing together, fled the secrecy of the meeting room and did the "Snowbird Mobster" waddle to the door.

The mood now was jovial and the "Fuggetaboutit's!" and "How YOU doin's?" were thrown out freely.

I then glanced at a previously hidden clipboard front and uncovered the mystery behind the "Little Joey's Snowbird Mobsters".

It read:

Square-dance Council Meeting
-Minutes-
September 2010


WHAT????

Mafia/Square-dance Council....... same thing really....

Fuggetaboutit'!!

(resume Godfather theme music here)

34 1/2 Reasons you should love me...

I can make that Origami swan thing that flaps it's wings (that's a big deal in the Origami underground)

I use big words in everyday conversation, words like: flummoxed and befuddled, because I always am those most of the time...

I don't cook, so you never have to worry about trips to the hospital for food poisoning or salmonella

I can do the hand thingy-you know-- this is the church, this is the steeple, open the doors and look at the people!! It's great fun at sign language conventions, it's like a foreign language there.

I am chock full of wholesomely goodness

I don't know how to crochet, but if I did, I would never crochet you a toilet paper cozy

I can take a sunrise. Sprinkle it in dew. Cover it in chocolate and a miracle or two!

I will make sure MY Presidential addresses don't interrupt your favorite TV programming

I will make trampoline jumping an Olympic sport

Everyone LOVES the "Blooper Reel", I LIVE the Blooper Reel

My milkshake brings all the boys to the yard, And their like. It's better than yours, Damn right it's better than yours, I can teach you,,,,, AND I WOULDN'T CHARGE!!!

I throw like a girl, so I would never successfully dunk you in the dunk booth at the church bazaar

I am biodegradable (except for the sparkles)

I think your tractor is sexy

I have a secret you want to know

SPAM on tap

Metaloxidesiliconediodefieldeffecttransistorcomposablereadonly memory failures do not scare me

I have extensive training in broken bone survival strategies

One day I will construct a 50 foot tall sculpture made entirely of Circus Peanuts, it will be virtually indestructible, except squirrels will eat it, I hate squirrels

I know the magic word, neener, neener, neener (no really, it's neener)

You're not heavy, you're my brother

My cardboard box home will be envy of the underpass dwellers

Snoop Dog is writing a song about my Swizzle. Fo Shizzle!

I make crazy look crazy

I can tie a knot on a cherry stem with YOUR tongue.. It's a telekinesis thang

I suck at miniature golf, but love staring at the windmill thingy and letting you win

I will buy a "choppy" and you can have the second "choppy" FOR FREE!!! Just pay shipping and handling (and I keep the extra "gratey", stop being selfish)

My mug shot will be the first one on the cover of Vogue

I see through your clothes, and you look goo-oood

I don't require adult supervision 65% of the day

I still run with scissors but only because I am trying to prove the point..

I know what Jerry Springer's FINAL, "final thought" will be

I am a hug hoarder

I start every meal thinking about Green Jello and floaty pineapple rings

I almost had another reason........