I wish Bob Ross was my dad.

I used to watch him paint when I was little and I always wanted to crawl into the TV and hug him.  I watched him every day.  I asked my parents for art books so I could learn how to paint like him.  He was sort of a hero, actually.

He was always just like “maybe get a little crazy and put a tree here.  Whatever you’re comfortable with is fine.”

My dad was always all  “SIT DOWN AND EAT OR YOU’LL GET A SPANKING!”  followed by “QUIT CRYING OR I’LL GIVE YOU SOMETHING TO CRY ABOUT!”  And then he’d smack us on the back of the head,  or clap his hands really loud right in our faces, just to let us know he was THE MAN.

We got a lot of spankings and we did a lot of crying.

I bet Bob Ross would never make me eat meatloaf under threat of a spanking. He would probably leave his dinner to make me a grilled cheese sandwich like I wanted.

Also, Bob Ross had cool hair.  My dad was bald.

PS:  I need a topic for next week’s Toy With Me. Is there something totally gross you saw recently, or is there a story you want me to tell/re-tell? Maybe I’ll just tell the story about how I turn men gay.  I’ve got three under my belt.  I’m pretty proud of that.  Email me!

PSS: This post was way emo-er than I planned.  Sorry.  I thought it was going to come out funny, but no.  That’s okay though.  Bob Ross still loves me, even when I suck a little bit.

Quick update on the Karma situation:

Yesterday the basement flooded, Homeslice was a crankasaurus, Mister was in a shitty mood, Girlfriend followed me around demanding cookies, a show we bought tickets to was switched to a different performer–no refunds (fucking Ticketmaster cunts), Big Pussy ate my new favorite plant that I bought at the flower show and barfed it all over my dining room table, Alice fished a coffee filter out of my compost bucket and ran around with a diarrhea coffee buzz like you read about, BUT it was raining like a sonofabitch so she refused to go out which means she had diarrhea anyone? anyone? all over the house, AND I came down with a cold and a wicked sore throat. I can take anything, but a sore throat really pisses me off.

So yes. The universe pretty much shat on my head.

Don’t kill ladybugs. Roger that.

Yesterday after reading that my “ladybugs” were actually some sort of Beetle impostering as ladybugs, Girlfriend and I went on a killing spree.  Each armed with a library book( I KNOW IT!), we went into the bathroom and opened up a can whoop ass on the beetles.

We were like, all Matrix-y and shit, and we were spinning around and doing ninja flips and gettin’ all crazy, and we were pretty bad ass, laughing all the way and making splooshy sound effects and high fiving each other until all the beetles were dead, dead, dead.


And I enjoyed it a little too much, and I blame Girlfriend because she thought it was hysterical, which made massacring tens of ladybug beetle things AWESOME! Hahahahaha! and we totally bonded and then I realized something.

Karma is a bitchface.

It’s always making anything fun a wicked pain in the assical.  Murdering bugs, annoying as they may be, makes for very bad karma.  I mean,what would Buddha say?

I do not think he would be pleased with Girlfriend and me.

Mister tells me that my source of information on the whole beetle/ladybug thing was bad and that ladybugs come in all different shades of orange/red and if he’s right, I have just gleefully killed what are arguably the most adorable bugs in the entire entomological world.

What happens to you when you smoosh good luck ladybugs with a library book?

This can’t be good, Queefies.

So now I’m scared that something really bad is going to happen, and I keep going back to this show I was watching on Monday night. I don’t know what show it was because I don’t really pay attention to show names, but it was one of those police shows–OMG! Greg from Darma & Greg was in it– and it was about a guy who started shooting people who looked like his wife. After he shot his first person, he got a high from it, and then he got addicted to shooting people and he couldn’t stop, and he just wanted to do it more and more and it became like, an obsession.

I didn’t see the whole thing, but I think he murdered his family probably.

I’m scared that this is going to happen to me now. I’m going to start killing bugs like, all the time, and then before you know it, BAM!

I’m a killing machine.

I already share a name with a serial killer, so it’s like I am one already!

And you’re getting a twofer today because it’s TOY WITH ME Wednesday!

Breastfeed my husband? Hell no!

Morning Queefies!

I don’t know how much time I have this morning.  Homeslice and Girlfriend are still sleeping.  I always get really paranoid when they sleep late, and I keep going into their rooms to make sure they didn’t die.  I put my hand on their little tummies to check for breathing and sometimes I poke them to make them move.  I’m an awesome mother, obviously.

They’re both still alive, btw.  I poked them.

Can somebody tell me why my upstairs bathroom is infested with lady bugs? It happens every year at this time. I counted 21 of them yesterday, and I have to do the floor every day because when I go in there, it’s littered with dead lady bug parts. Apparently there’s some sort of a lady bug coup d’ etat going on in there.  It’s a veritable  lady bug blood bath.

But why are they doing it in my bathroom?

I saw Amityville Horror AND I read the book, so I’m kind of an expert on these things, and so I know that it’s usually flies that come with an evil haunting and so I don’t think that’s why all the lady bugs.

As far as I can tell, they must think the horrible daisy border the former owners put up is real. Stupid lady bugs.  It’s ugly AND it’s wallpaper, you guys!  Get a clue.


I am not only Queen of Fucking Everything, but I am also Earth Mother and all the creatures big and small want to be near me regardless of ugly wallpaper.

I spend a lot of time in that bathroom, you know.  I brush people’s teeth, I give people baths, I wipe people’s butts (not Miste’rs though, thank Jeezus, but I could be anywhere in the house and hear “I pooped!” and I have to come running to wipe Girlfriend’s ass), and I clean it and clean it and clean it. Not Girlfriend’s ass.  The bathroom.  Because lady bugs are messy.

Between that upstairs bathroom and the kitchen, it’s pretty much my day.  So why aren’t they in the kitchen where all my plants are?

Because lady bugs are fucking stupid and they have horrible taste in wallpaper.  That’s why.

In other news, the flower show was pretty stupid.  It was more of an opportunity to find a landscaper than to learn about pretty flowers.  We paid $17 a person to see landscaping vignettes.  It was fucking stupid.

But we got a cute picture of Homeslice:


so that was good.

And I noticed that not one of you showed up there to meet me which proves once and for all that I don’t have any REAL friends.  Sure, you say you love me but WHERE WERE YOU?

I agonized over my outfit just for you.


You know what TV show I’m totally addicted to right now which means they’ll change my cable and I won’t be able to see it anymore just like the Horrible Ghost Hunter’s Tragedy of ’08?

It’s The Millionaire Matchmaker.

The other night, she called somebody an “ugly firecrotch bitch.” And then, after she got all up in Firecrotch’s grill, she was all “get her out of here!  Take her away!”

How can you not love her?

You can’t! You can’t not love a person who calls somebody a hilarious name and then has them taken away.

I’m totally going to start doing that, FYI.

From now on, when somebody pisses me off, I’m going to have them taken away.  Wherever I am, I’m just going to start shouting “take her away!” and maybe somebody will do it.

And if that works, I will then start shouting “off with her head!” and see how far I can take this thing.

I love these little experiments.  I’ll keep you posted.

And speaking of experiments, I saw my first bisexual porn the other day.

It was…


I sort of just sat there with my head cocked to one side going “huh” because even though there was a girl involved, the guys weren’t really interested.  It was really just gay porn that was happening and then some confused, cracked out slut just like, wandered onto the set and started sucking some wenises.

The guys just kind of looked at her like, “TAKE HER AWAY!”

And I was very confused because I didn’t know who the hell I was supposed to be watching and there were wenises going every which way and boys were kissing boys and girls were sort of there too and it was…a cluster fuck. I couldn’t get into it.

Oh, and just a heads up, we’re taking the ladies here today so if you’re stalking us you can adjust your plans accordingly.

So yeah.

That was random.