Priceless Thursdays

Dog Costume for daughter bought after Christmas on clearance at Target: $11.99

Swiffer Duster handle and extra swiffer pads: $5.99

Nearly causing an auto accident outside my house when a passing driver caught a glimpse of a lunatic in a dog costume dusting windowsills and nearly steered into an oncoming car: Priceless!

You should have seen her face!

Yum-O! Ciggies!

Hold the presses! Call the Today Show! Someone saw Rachel Ray smoking a cigarette!

Told ya so, told ya so, told ya, told ya, told ya so! I knew she wasn’t innocent. I knew America’s sweetheart wasn’t so sweet. HA!

Someone else saw her spray Dunkin’ Donuts coffee out of her mouth and yell “what is this shit?”

I think I like her now.

Fuck A Book

Book titles take on a whole new meaning with a properly placed F-Bomb.

Check it out:

  • Eat, Pray, Fuck by Elizabeth Fuckbert
  • The Kite Fucker by Fuckhed Hosseini
  • Plum Fucky by Janet Fuckonovitch
  • The Heart is a Lonely Fucker by Carson McFuckers
  • In Defense of Fuck: A Fucker’s Manifesto by Michael Pollan
  • Fucking for Pizza by John Grishfuck
  • To Kill a Fuckingbird (or To Fuck a Mockingbird, I can’t decide) by Harper Lee
  • Fuckaholic Takes Manhattan by Fuckie Kinsella
  • The Sun Also Fucks by Ernest Fuckingway
  • Oh, the Places You’ll Fuck! by Dr. Seuss
  • Fuck Everlasting by Natalie Fuckit
  • The Fucker by Lois Lowry
  • James and the Giant Fuck by Roald Dahl
  • Miss Nelson is Fucking! by Harry Allard
  • One Fuck, Two fuck, Red Fuck, Blue Fuck by Dr. Seuss

This gets annoying really fast, so that’s all I’ll do for today. This is best as a collaborative project. If you’ve got a good one, don’t hesitate to share.

We’ll do movie and song titles next!

Add a Little Sparkle and Sass

I’m so over doing housework. I’m not just over it, I hate it passionately. But I’ve discovered that for me, the secret to making it a little more exciting is all about having the right accessories. Let me show you what I mean. (click on the pictures to make them bigger)

As you know, it all started with vacuuming wearing a motorcycle helmet.


It makes me more aerodynamic as I hug the curves and speed through the straight aways.

Here’s what I wear when I clean the toilets:

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Tiaras: not just for Prom anymore!

My daughter’s dog costume is fun to dust in.

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I just have to remember not to pee on the floor when I’m wearing it.

I like to rock a feather boa, stilettos, and hot pants while I do dishes.


Boo ya!

I cannot recommend cooking au naturale…

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It horrifies people.

Happy Monday!

The Cold and the Soapy

There I was this morning taking a luke-warm shower when the water got progressively colder. “Crap!” I thought to myself, “I guess I’d better spread my hustle.” So I ditched the notion of shaving (Yet again. Am now a She-Yeti), speedily ran conditioner through my hair, and lathered up my body. I was just about ready to rinse off when the water shut off completely. Nothing. Nada.

“Nneeeeeettttthhhhhh!!!!!” I screamed for my husband who I knew must be the one responsible for this.

“WHAT?” he responds from deep within the house.

“No! Fucking! Water!” I yell back.


There I am, standing in our freezing cold bathroom with conditioner in my hair and a soapy hoo-hoo with the door open to our even more freezing cold hallway when he finally appears at the top of the stairs.

“Sorry. The oil burner was out of water and I had to fill it. There’s nothing I can do” he says.

“What?” I ask while shivering and looking at him with only my left eye as the conditioner has run down into the right one.

“Do you want me to get you some paper towels or something?”

“NO! I want you to get me some hot fucking water right fucking now!” I exclaim through chattering teeth and burning squinty eye.

“Well, you’re going to have to wait a few minutes until the boiler can heat more water. I don’t know what the big deal is. Just rinse off with cold water.” I barraged a host of very naughty words at him (you can only imagine) but in the end, I still had to wait.

The water finally did come back on, but I wound up running late and catching a bone-deep chill that I cannot get rid of despite two sweaters and a steaming Vanilla Chai.

I’m still freezing my nips off, my eye is red, but at least my hoo-hoo isn’t soapy anymore.

How was your shower this morning?

Priceless Thursdays

Online shopping trip to Old Navy to buy two pairs of new “flirt cut” pants: $35.50 

Discovering I lost no weight during the great Olestra incident of 2008: disappointing

Yummy Girl Scout Cookies on break room table at work: FREE!!!

Trying on new pants to discover they call attention to my second ass and squeeze the fat around my middle thereby creating the dreaded “muffin top”: Priceless 

Alice’s Restaurant

But at our house, you sadly cannot get anything you want at Alice’s Restaurant.

Meet Alice, my not-so-mini-Mini Schnauzer.


Cute as she is, Alice has a bit of a weight issue. She’s never met a Snausage she didn’t like.

At her last vet appointment, the doctor said she’s at least 3lbs overweight. I gasped, covered her ears, and hissed, “She’s not fat. She’s just fluffy!” He remained unconvinced. Whatever. Fine. So I’ve put her on reduced calorie doggie food which I can only imagine must taste like the bottom of an empty pizza box. I also take her for a 30 minute walk around the neighborhood at least a couple of times a week. We both look longingly at the ice cream store at the corner where we would usually stop in for a Frosty Paws and a small chocolate soft serve (it’s for the kid! I swear it!).

She seems to be recovering some of her girlish figure, but I’m having some ethical issues. I know it’s not healthy for her to be fat and all, but the poor creature follows me around the house with a look on her face that says “I’m hungry, mother.” I toss her a carrot, a piece of celery or a chewey, but she just looks down at it, shifts her weight from paw to paw, and looks back up at me like she gets the joke but doesn’t think it’s funny. Her inner fat girl demands cookies! I can relate! It sucks when people won’t give you cookies!

So, how do I explain the concept of a diet to a creature whose intellectual pursuits include nosing through the trash and growling at her own butt?

Genius Super Bowl Commercial

Does anyone have the phone number for the Dyson people? Actually, it could be any vacuum cleaner company, it doesn’t really matter which one.

I need the advertising department please.

I’ve got an idea for a Super Bowl commercial. Check it out:

Picture your average American living room with a vacuum cleaner parked in the middle of it.

A person approaches the vacuum, turns it on, and extends the wand to vacuum the drapes. The vacuum sucks in the drapes, the room, the house, and then the entire universe leaving the bewildered person and the vacuum alone in white space.

And the tag line reads: “Dyson. We totally suck.”

Freaking brilliant, right?

Advertising genius wasted in the back room of a library.

Olestra: Now With Sharting

Warning: embarassing and personal, yet valuable consumer alert.

From this moment on, it shall be known as The Olestra Incident of 2008.

There I was this morning, minding my own business when a little gas slipped out. Normally this would not be a noteworthy event, but this was special. It was…juicy. “Huh” I thought to myself, “that’s odd.” And then I checked.

It was oil.



Naturally, I was completely horrified as my husband laughed hysterically at me. I’ve heard of this happening to people, I’ve even joked about it from time to time, but I never imagined it could happen to me!! I traced it back to the 1/2 can of Light Pringles cooked in Olestra I consumed at lunch yesterday which in restrospect turns out to have been a very bad idea. I should have listened to my husband when he told me to cool it with the chips. Now I cannot leave the house because the only thing worse than sharting at home is sharting at The Home Depot.

I’ve learned that when it comes to chips, you can either eat the regular ones and have a fat ass, or eat the Olestra chips and have an oily one.

I think I’ll just have pickles on the side next time.

Dream Machine


It’s the new Dyson DC 18.

Fully loaded.

Corners like it’s on rails.

Quiet as a kitten.

If you have the means, I highly recommend picking one up.



It’ll rock your world, bee-atch.