Things that Suck OR Why Mommy Drinks “A Hundreds” of Wine

These are all the things that sucked this week:

Suckage item #1:

 

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Right here is what I call a pile of bullshit.

This is Homeslice’s homework which is actually designed to torture ME.  Not only did I have to cut this shit out into tiny squares that are impossible to control, but I had to sort it because it was arranged randomly. I had to go over them one by one with her. She got most, but I think she got a lucky guess on the others. I put those fuckers in the “done” pile realfuckingquick.

Guess or not, it’s still a correct answer, amiright?

Suckage item #2:

 

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My weekly allotment of wine was nearly done by Wednesday!  In my defense this was purchased last Friday night and was shared amongst friends, so really, wine consumption has been quite tame.  But still, this photo makes me sad because: rationing.

Suckage item #3:

 

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I did not get Veteran’s Day off, but everyone else did and so in an effort keep kids off screen time (mandated by me), Mister let them go wild streame-ring the  house. It’s a multicolored Halloween prank at my house right now.  It’s lovely, but who is going to have to take them down?

Anyone?

Anyone?

ME!

At least it wasn’t toilet paper, I guess. Girlfriend is known for her excessive use of tape, so I am particularly pissed about this because everything is taped down solid, which makes for extra pain in the ass, but most irritating of all is: there is NO tape left in this house.

You don’t realize you need tape until there is no tape.

Protip: Hide the fucking tape.

Suckage #4:

 

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This is my container drawer. Somebody should complain.

Suckage #5:

 

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Wall-e, the butane powered space heater, is now a permanent resident in my living room.  Mister thinks it’s the fucking balls.

It terrifies me every bit as much as the gas dryer, washing machine and garbage disposal.

Mister wanted me to post a picture of it when it’s lit, but I didn’t want the Internet to catch on fire cuz this thing says “DANGER” all over it.

Suckage #6:

 

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Who knew these fuckers take on water? I found myself standing over the kitchen sink shaking drips out of them until I noticed this:

 

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They have assholes.

So to get the water out, we had to drill them BIGGER ASSHOLES.

Lovely.

Now we have rose bud gang-bang “amules.”

Suckage #7:

 

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I dont live in a place where people keep chickens. So imagine my surprise to find these three ladies just chillaxin’ out there on an ordinary Monday morning?  I had dicks in my mulch, so why not chickens?

My driveway is a place of many wonders, Queefies.

So, how did your week go?

Mine was kinda crappy and included some heavy stuff, but this is all that I can share because we try to keep it light and fluffy over here.

Feel free to dump your bullshit here.

In fact,  please do.

 

 

 

What to Expect When You’re Expecting

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No, I am not pregnant, conclusion jumpers.

Hey there.

It’s been a while since I’ve posted anything as our friend Brittany so eloquently pointed out.

That’s because it’s true what they say: “you can’t have it all.”

You cannot.

Full time job, two kids, three dogs (one you have not met yet but will super soon), house, yard, pool, garden, goldfish, dishes, cooking, packing lunches, doing laundry, cleaning just so the place doesn’t get condemned, picking up toys, consuming alarming amounts of vodka/wine/Citrucel, exercising so I don’t go insane, applying multiple anti-aging products, etc. takes a shitload of time.

And well?

Even though I have missed this blog and all of you good people, I have not been able to carve out the time to keep it all up. I’m sure you understand, and I’m sure many of you are in the same position: life is overwhelming as all fuck and it seems to just pick up speed every day.

That being said, and I know I’ve said this before, but I am coming back.

I’m not sure how often but I’m going to promise at least two posts per week. I have a list of great ideas. All will be executed. This, I promise to you all and to myself as I have to get back in touch with the person who used to come to the blog and laugh at how absurd life is. Right now, I see absurd and take a Xanax and go cry in my car.

This is totally unacceptable behavior.

Life is too short not to share what’s stupid and absurd and laugh about it with your friends. I need my friends back.

I need you guys.

So here I am, coming back and making a promise that I will be here for you, and I know you will be here for me. Let’s laugh at shit again because life is fucking funny. It’s absurd. And we all have the same struggles. That’s why we come to this blog.

I speak for us all: the ugly, the victorious, the hilarious assholes we have to deal with in the world and the dog pee on the floor you just mopped mere moments ago.

This is the good stuff. This is life.

If we don’t all get together and laugh, well, then we’ll all pop Xanies and go cry in the car.

I am back and you are back and we will have lots of fun together.

So, whilst you wait for the next post, which may come again really soon, take a look around at the new place and tell me what you think. A few new categories will be added, the look is different, which I owe all to the lovely Ms.Brittany (aka Mediacrisis). She’s been goading me into this and finally took matters into her own hands and took over the old blog, made it mobile friendly and gave it a new look. Many thanks to her and also hopes for an occasional blog contribution because she is all sortsa awesome.

Things may change here and there as I have time for tweaks, but for now this is what it is. I hope you like it and I hope you come back. I miss our old gang. You all meant more to me than you ever imagined.

Love and many kisses to you (some with tongue and some without depending on how well we know one another)

THE QUEEN SHALL REIGN AGAIN.

This is my solemn vow.

[EDIT: THERE APPEARS TO BE AN ISSUE WITH THE COMMENTS ONLY DISPLAYING ONCE YOU HAVE MADE A COMMENT OR HAVE A COOKIE FROM THE SITE. PLEASE DO NOT HESITATE TO COMMENT SINCE THEY ARE BEING RECORDED PROPERLY AND WILL APPEAR ONCE THE TECHNICAL ISSUE HAS BEEN RECTIFIED.]

You Better Not Pout, You Better Not Cry

You better watch out, I’m tellin’ you why…

DADDY IS TRYING TO TAKE A MOTHERFUCKINGPICTURE AND IF YOU DON’T CUT THE SHIT THERE’S GOING TO BE NO CHRISTMAS THIS YEAR I MEAN IT!

It’s Christmas portrait time, Queefies.

It’s one of the most stressful days of the year for Crissy and Mister because omg kids.  If you’ve ever tried to take a portrait of your kids with their shiny happy little faces you know it’s a total fucking shitshow.

We decorate the tree, light the fireplace, set up the camera and the lights, get them into their matching Christmas dresses (purchased weeks in advance in preparation), comb their hair and get them in front of the camera to pretend that we are a functional family.

There’s bribery of the M&M persuasion and when that doesn’t work there’s threats of taking away television and when that doesn’t work Christmas gets cancelled like fifteen times.

Then comes the begging: “Please just smile.  This is not for US, this is for your family!  Auntie Cya and Marcy and Dips and Pop-Pop and Popa and Grammie and Uncle Billy and the people who love you want to have nice pictures of you!  DON’T YOU LOVE AUNTIE CYA? Smile for Auntie Cya! Come on, come on, sit here and smile…good!  good!  YAY!  Happy Kids! AW FUCK! THE DOG’S ASS IS IN THE FUCKING FRAME! GET THE FUCKING DOG OUT OF HERE!”

And then we try again and again and it goes similarly and it’s exactly like herding 147 profoundly retarded cats.

I start sounding like Bill Cosby:  “Come here. Come here. Come Here. Here! Here! Here! Here! Heeeeeerrrreeeeeeeee!!!!”

“Sit down. Sit down. Sit down. Sitsitsitsitsitsitsit.”

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Brain. Damage.

And I look like Jeffrey’s mother:

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This is because Girlfriend knows she’s in a position of power over both of us, so she fucks with us.  She splays her legs out, she crosses her eyes, she sticks out her tongue, she does whatever she can think of to ruin the shot.

She finds it tremendously rewarding to see Mister and me go to Crazytown.

Now, one might question why we do this year after year if it’s such a disaster.

Because if we didn’t, we wouldn’t get pictures like this:

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Have yourself a crappy little Christmas.

What Happens When I’m Not Home…

Sigh.

My dreams of having a maidlaundressnanny have been crushed, guys.  HippieMom SuperNanny has left us.  The halcyon days are over.

Her husband got a fancy new job and they had to move away.  Far, far away and so I no longer have her at the house, doing battle against the filth and the dishes and the laundry.

Our new childcare arrangements are so complicated we had to make a spreadsheet, but we’re making a go of it and not replacing her because there is no replacement for HippieMom SuperNanny.

We cannot bear the thought of even trying.

It’s only been one day and the house is already falling to crap.

Queefies, how is it possible that I can vacuum and wash the floors on Monday night and by Tuesday evening, even though nobody has been in the house all day, the place is a total fucking shitshow?

I have one theory, and one theory only.

It’s THIS:

Alice and Vivian have all the dogs in the neighborhood over for a dog party and the recalcitrant shitbirds ham it up in my kitchen!

I leave in the morning, and the two of them start barking out the windows, exactly like how it takes place on 101 Dalmations when the puppies go missing, and the next thing you know, they all come over here.  Tequila brings beer (ironically, she doesn’t like hard liquor), Henry‘s got da Chronic, and Talus brings the hos.

The end.

The Twat Ring

Are you guys following me on Pinterest?

NO?

The fuck is wrong with you?

You should be following me because everything I pin is the most awesome stuff the Internet has to offer. Obvi.

Right now, I’m on a quest for the perfect ring to replace my stolen wedding set. Remember that? It was terrible, and I’m still traumatized and pretty angry that some low-life scum sucking douchebag thought she had the right to help herself to our family heirlooms.

Our family is not a sentimental one at all, but one thing we do get attached to is jewelry. We really get into handing things like that down.

So, there’s a lot of pressure on this replacement ring to be ultra special and something that generations will enjoy. My plan is to have my heirloom ring re-created with some diamonds my mother gave me that belonged to my Great Grandmother.

I’ve decided to replace my wedding set with either a diamond wedding band, or just a diamond cocktail ring. I don’t feel the need to have a traditional wedding set because who says I have to?

Nobody. So long as there’s something on that finger, I’m good with it. There are so many beautiful things out there, I don’t want to limit myself to wedding sets.

I only like vintage stuff. All the new stuff I’ve seen isn’t doing it for me–there’s too many little doo-das all over the place.

So, I fell in love with this:

And I thought about it and thought about it and wanted it soooo badly.

I finally broke down and had it shipped to a local store, hoping that I could just get over it and that I wouldn’t like it when I tried it on. It’s about four sizes too big, but I liked it. It’s very unique and the quality is absolutely exquisite. It was so white and clear I couldn’t get over it. It was almost disturbing how white the diamonds were. I thought everyone would love it, so I posted a picture of it on Facebook.

A few people liked it, but most didn’t!

WHAT?

And then somebody said it looks like a twat.

Does it look like a twat to you, Queefies?

I think it looks like leaves, but now all I see is vagina when I look at it.

I don’t want a vagina on my finger, you guys!

So, the ring is pretty much ruined for me now and the search continues. Those of you who are easily distracted by anything sparkly can help me because I’m always pinning stuff to my Treasure Bath board on Pinterest. You guys can help me find the perfect heirloom ring for Homeslice and Girlfriend that hopefully does not look like a twat.

(If you think this is just a desperate ploy to get more followers on Pinterest, you are absolutely right.)