So I’m skulking around the Internet and I can’t help but notice how many people are writing these long emo Very Special Father’s Day edition posts about their fathers and babydaddies and I’m just like, really?

Am I supposed to cry?  Because I don’t do mushy and sentimental, and I think all those cards they have over at the store are stoopid.

In fact, somebody should shit on Hallmark’s coat just because they’re so lame.

How about a card that says “Happy Fathers day to the guy who gave me life and an anxiety disorder.”

Or “Happy Father’s day, motherfucker!”

Or, if you live in my house, “Happy Father’s day, Daddy! Please wear pants.”

You want to hear my Very Special Father’s Day edition blog post?

Here goes.


I was going to give Mister a blow job for father’s day but he decided to go to a Melvins concert in Boston instead because my blow jobs aren’t better than the Melvins.

The end.

Oh, and the kids gave him new summer shoes so he can stop wearing crocs now, and a camera bag to replace the old cat hair covered duffle bag he’s been dragging around everywhere he goes and embarrassing the crap out of us.

So yeah.  Happy belated Father’s Day to all you babydaddies out there.   I hope you all got blow jobs or at least gifts that will make you less of an embarrassment to your families and no lame greeting cards.

So we bought this swingset for Homeslice and Girlfriend, right?

And it took us a long time to find just the right one for just the right price with just the right quality and we were very excited to show the picture to Girlfriend and what does she say, Queefies?

“It doesn’t have a lot of stuff to do.”

Um, excuse me?

There’s a playhouse with a fucking veranda, three swings, a rock wall,  a picnic table, a sandbox, and a slide.  It’s nicer than our house, really.

Maybe Mister and I will live out there instead because apparently, she wants Disney out in the yard and anything less is unacceptable.

Clearly,  Girlfriend is spoiled to death, so to toughen her up a bit, we’re not going to put mulch under the swingset/palace.  We’re gonna put rocks like we had when we were kids.  My swingset was made of metal and it had a couple of swings and some monkey bars and a trapeze and that was it. It was not made out of some nice non-splintery cedar with rounded edges.  There was no playhouse, picnic table, veranda, etc.,  and if we went too high on the swings, the back would come out of the ground and we spent entire afternoons trying to get the whole thing to flip over.  I think my brother actually did once.  I can’t remember.  And instead of this “playground grade mulch” we had rocks to land on and if you fell off the monkey bars because you were clowning around like a dumbass, you got fucking hurt and it was your own fault for being stupid and you learned not to be a dumbass anymore.

Kids today are soft.

And so we spent half a billionty monies on a swingset that we want more than Girlfriend does.  Homeslice is pretty excited about it, but she’s only just recently discovered how much fun a ball is, so you know.  She’s easily impressed at this point.

And it’s a Toy with Me day today!

Come find out why I’m wearing these ridiculous socks!  Surra de Bunda–Punched by an Ass


Cisco sent me this totally awesome little flip camera in exchange for my blogging about their What If Your TV Could… contest.

Isn’t it cute? I had the option of either keeping it or giving it to one of you people, but I’m a greedy whore bag so you know, you lose.

But!  The good news is that you could win something way better than a flip camera. They’re asking consumers to submit creative ideas about what they wish their TV could do and by doing so, you could win an opportunity to win a Grand Prize of $10,000, as well as the opportunity to receive one of 3 $500 gift cards for the most viewed videos.   All you have to do is submit a short video explaining what future capabilities you would like to see on your TV.

That’s it!

All you have to do is go here to view all the other submissions and to submit your own video.

Here’s our video! You need to go and watch it if you love me at all. You know our videos always rock, right? And for the love of sweet baby Jesus leave a comment, give it stars (to the left under the video), and add it to favorites (the heart to the right of the stars).  I think it needs all of those things in order for it to be in the running.  It won’t take you more than two minutes to watch the thing and press the buttons.

You’ve got two minutes for the Crissys, doncha?  Of course you do!  You want to see us get a new heating system for the ultimate in glamor, right?

And if you don’t really feel like making a video because you don’t need $10,000, that’s fine with me because I’ll have less competition, so you can just leave your ideas in my comments section.  Just know that telling me your ideas won’t get you shit. You have to go tell them. On video.


If your TV could do anything, what would you want it to do?

PS: if any of you guys make a video, I wanna see!  Link me up, dude.

I went out for dinner with Michele last night you guys.

It was the first time I had any kind of food I did not plan, shop for, and prepare myself in weeks and it was glorious, although we could tell Amy Our Waitress was disappointed in us because we had a couple of salads and some waters with lemon. Her face totally fell when she realized she was waiting on two lame ass pussies instead of a couple of gals goin’ out for a calorie fest,  Cosmos, and casual sex with moderately attractive younger men.

I don’t know what she was thinking because we were both wearing cardigans.

Also, it was Ruby Tuesday’s. If I’m going to go out and carry on, I’m not going to do it at Ruby Tuesday’s. I only go there for those fucking delicious croutons and that pasta salad they have with the peas in it. I love that pasta salad.

We did manage to redeem ourselves with Amy Our Waitress when we ordered chocolate cake (one piece to share, of course) and two decaf coffees.

I know, I know. ROCK ON!

And after that decadent dining experience we went to the Grand Opening of a Saver’s!

Shut up.

I’m almost 36 years old. This is my idea of a good time. Don’t ruin it.

And that, my dear, dear Queefies, is where I found Sad Jesus on VELVET!


NOW you’re jealous.

Today we’re talking about Girlfriend’s graduation.

But first you have to look at this picture of Homeslice on her birthday:


“das right bitches.  I’s eatin’ some cake. Whachu doin’?”

And then Saturday was the graduation and it was at 10am at the Schmuckytown Pubic Library and it rained which meant that it would be inside.  Here is the sweaty line of sweaty people. See if you can pick out the EPCs–sort of like Where’s Waldo? only with Escalade Pajama Cunts instead of you know, Waldo.


But I’m getting ahead of myself here because before we got there, there was all kinds of kerfuffles because I am the one in our family who has to get everyone clean, dressed, fed, packed, and ready to go and Mister kind of just wanders around like there’s nothing going on and he doesn’t know what he’s wearing and he doesn’t know we’re leaving or what time the thing is even though I told him 55 times per minute and he’s polishing camera lenses and having a sip of juice and I’m apoplectic (Holla Melissa Lion!) and sitting in the car with the kids and he’s still in the house looking for whateverthefuckhelooksfor and it’s 9:36 and we still have to pick up my mom and one day I’m going to have a stroke trying to get out of the house on time.

But we got there eventually and waited in that there line you saw.

Do you guys remember how Girlfriend felt about dance class?



Well, how do we think she felt about being paraded around in front of all those people in that great big line up there?



That Guy on the Left looks like he’s getting ready to punch her in the face, “Hulk, ANGRY!” Seriously, his face is doing something weird there, like he’s about to morph into something wicked fucked up.

And she wanted me to save her but her teacher put her in a headlock kept her walking the line:


I didn’t save her because she has to learn how to not be such a pussy, amiright?

Girlfriend needs to sack up and deal.


And yes, but no.

She had a big dance number to perform and she had to at least try to get over The Pussyitis.


Or, you know, not.

They were supposed to be doing We Go Together from Grease, but no.

They just…no.

A couple of them did a few little things toward the end there, but for the most part they all just stood there like they had just downed a bunch of Quaaludes.

Nobody says Quaalude anymore. I’m bringin’ it back. You heard me.

And it was just as well because I kept having emotions and I sort of lost it when they sang When a Child is Born in sign language. It was fucking beautiful, okay? And then again when they did a little ballet scarf dance thing to Time to Say Goodbye.

Right? Are you kidding me?

Fucking Satan would have lost his shit, I’m telling you. Even That Guy on the Left was a little misty. I totally caught him “HULK, sad.”

But now I have an official Graduate of Preschool.


That’s the school principal, Mrs. Jeannie. Girlfriend adores her, but I still had to go up with her to get her diploma because she was so not going up there by herself even after a pep talk from her teachers. She was just like, “fuck that noise, you bitches are crazy.” But she didn’t say that.

And we just found out that they passed a vote for all day kindergarten this fall. I’m the only person I know who’s not overjoyed.


I’m not ready for Kindergarten, Queefies.

PS: Today is a Toy with Me day. In a rare serious moment, I’m telling a story of trauma that I’ve never told you guys before. You should come and read it: Catcalling–Creepy or a Compliment?