Thank You For Flying With Us

Those of you that have been lurking here for a while know that I recently started riding the bus. This morning the bus was running late so Dave (he’s our regular driver) allowed me and fellow bus stop loiterer Betty to hop on the bus and ride for free. But, because he was running late, Dave didn’t give Betty and I much time to grab a seat and make ourselves comfortable for the twenty minute ride before he took off like Tony Stewart at the Daytona 500 toward the next stop just two blocks down the street. My computer bag went rolling down the isle and I had to grab one of the poles to keep from following in its wake. I sat down in the last seat available which just happened to be across from the driver. I had a full view of the road ahead. This would NOT have been my choice of seats had I know the way Dave drove when the bus was four minutes behind schedule. I said good morning to the regulars, asked after their weekends, and Dave turned….he TURNED to ask how my weekend was. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, did he not see that Beemer he just about tagged when he hooked a right onto one of our famous one-way streets?!?! Two older, fluffy ladies across the isle from me actually screamed as the turn was made for fear of falling out of their seats. They yelled at Dave to take the turns a bit slower as the bus was already leaning and all of the fat people were on the leaning side. They were afraid the bus was going to tip over at the speeds he was taking the turns and had already berated him for taking the corners on two wheels. I glanced to make sure it wasn’t Sandra Bullock driving the bus with the need to maintain the mph above 50 to keep the bus from exploding. I glanced again just to make sure. Damn, it wasn’t her; I was hoping Keanu would land in my lap.

The next turn Dave made was even better, he didn’t slow down and when the driver of that little gold Honda Accord caught a glimpse of the bus heading straight for the front of his car he threw the car into reverse and squealed out of Dave’s way. The bus came to a screeching halt at a light and I took a moment to thank myself for bringing my umbrella with me as I used it to support myself and keep from tumbling forward and right out the front window of the bus. Only two more turns and we would be downtown at the terminal. I don’t have to switch buses but we sit and take new passengers on that have transferred from other routes. I was pretty sure we would make it there without incident. One more light….and then I saw him. A transient in front of the Greyhound Bus station. At the light. WAITING TO CROSS THE ROAD. He saw us barreling toward him but thought nothing of it as pedestrians have the right of way. Well not in THIS town Mister! Thank goodness he glanced up again and realized the light had turned green and Dave wasn’t slowing down. This gave Mr. Homeless man time to Scooby-Doo it back to the curb just a hairbreadth away from certain death.

Another screeching halt brought us to the downtown terminal with about thirty seconds to spare. We’d made it alive with not one injury amongst us. Transfers got off and on and before long we were back on the road for the second half of the trip. This half was uneventful as Dave had made up for the lost time on the first half of the run. A few of us were discussing fun things we had done this weekend, books we were reading, how much rain fell, the usual. (It’s a very chatty group we have on the first bus of the day.) After ten more minutes of recuperating from the hair-raising first half of the ride, my final destination was reached and I was ready to disembark. A fellow rider thanked Dave for the exciting ride, I stated it was the most excitement I’d had all year and Dave swiveled in his seat, turned to me and said “You need excitement? I’ll take you out to dinner.” Yup, this morning, before I had my daily allowance of coffee, I was propositioned by the bus driver.

So how was YOUR morning?

Don't Worry, I Won't Tag You

Through my perusing of the blogisphere, I ran across a meme that’s making the rounds. I first had to figure out what the hell a meme was. I’d been meme’d not too long ago and consider myself a well read person but I had no idea whatsoever what the frick ‘n frack a damn meme was. Thanks to Wikipedia I am now an informed individual.

This is a book meme I’m sure each and every one of you has already run scared from. Don’t worry, I’m not tagging anyone. Anywho, as I am an avid reader and read each and every day (except for those rare occasions I’m too sloshed to hold a book in my hand, let alone read) this one struck my fancy. The rules are simple:

Rules:

Pick up the nearest book.

Turn to page 123.

Find the 5th sentence.

Copy down the next three sentences..

I am currently reading three books so this will give you a little bit of everything:

Necroscope by Brian Lumley. (I was visiting Book-A-Million this past weekend to pick up a few reads to wile away the evenings while the spawn are out of town. Having recently been dumped by my man, I informed the young gentleman at the information desk I was in the mood for a read with a little “bloodfest” maybe “a slaughter or two”. He recommended this series of books of which I purchased the first three of fourteen.)

At the top he paused to draw breath, sat down for a moment swatting at midges in the pale beams of sunlight lancing down through tall, dark pines, then dragged the box along the crest of the ridge to a place where he could see a track running clear to the bottom. In some forgotten yesteryear, a fire-break had been cut here before the lumbermen had remembered or been told about the nature of the place; since then saplings had sprung up once more to almost but not quite obscure the scar. Now that scar was to become the track of Boris’s daredevil ride.

Heaven, Texas by Susan Elizabeth Phillips (Come on guys, be nice, I’m in need of a little romance in my life!)

One of the makeup artists approached him and began to spray his chest from a plastic bottle so that his muscles glistened with oil. He glanced down at himself. Even from a distance, she could see that he looked befuddled, and she couldn’t help smiling as she observed his reaction to what he certainly saw as unnecessary adornment.

And Twilight by Stephenie Meyer (Hey, I’m reading it to make sure it’s appropriate for my teenaged daughter! FINE! I’m just reading it for the fun of it.)

...after I get my license," he amended."Who was that other boy Lauren was talking to? He seemed a little old to be hanging out with us." I purposefully lumped myself in with the youngsters, trying to make it clear that I preferred Jacob."That's Sam - he's nineteen," he informed me.

And there you have it, my first official meme where I actually know what the hell a meme is.

Turf Wars

I was crusin’ da hood wif my joe wenz I hit a deuce o’hard gink. (I was perusing the blogosphere whilst I enjoyed a cup of coffee when I suddenly happened across some very tough hombres.) Wise head, I’z said upside myself, dis is yank! (I though to myself that this just may become a difficult situation.) They be trippin’ ifs they hang a vag he'a! ( It may not be a good idea for these gentlemen to continue occupying space in this general vicinity.) I’z gonna throw lead ‘n pop dem rube. (Should they continue at this locale, I will be forced to draw my firearm and eradicate these vermin.) Take a bounce, true, you ain’t my plugs. (Gentlemen, you may want to consider vacating the vicinity and returning from whence you came.) You’s a daisy an’ hims a nance, hop in dat flivver an' scram out! (Neither of you gentlemen look robust enough to handle this situation; you may want to consider getting into that Ford Explorer behind you, which I believe is yours, and return to your homes.) Ringers! (You two seem to be under the impression you’re a tad more dangerous than myself…..I beg to differ.) Me? I’z da butter n’ egg man, you's not gonna dangle? Fine, pack your colors an' dance! (Me? Why I myself am quite the man about town and have a number of reservation in sharing my good fortune. If you truly feel you must stay to sample the areas goods, I must call you out and challenge your intentions.)

That was pretty much the conversation that went on in my head when I first ran across Ice who then introduced me to BG (There are a number of BG postings, look for them all!) These ladies are some funny girls! And then…..an inspiration! (Okay, it was a suggestion) TURF WARS. The north verses the south. I am so there! These guys are Yankees for cryin’ out loud. Okay, okay so I was born and raised in Pennsylvania but I grew up in South Florida. I understand protecting ones turf. I am older, stronger, wiser and am prepared to wreak havoc amongst this younger crowd.

Ladies? Is there anyone else out there ready to protect their turf? I think we could take these young whipper-snappers on and show them who’s boss. Dibs on who wants to help me take ‘em out? Look for me to show them who’s coming out on top because when it comes to turf…..THIS – IS – WAR!

Thank you both to V. Ice and BG - you guys are awesome!

What A Drag

No, Spawn has not taken to purchasing sequined gowns, stilettos, and really big wigs. In fact Spawn hasn’t been home in almost a month. Spawnette has been gone this week as well and to top it off, my mom left for ten days and my longtime boyfriend decided he could no longer do the long distance relationship thing. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve enjoyed the slovenly lifestyle I’ve been living this week. I come home from work, throw on shorts and a T-shirt, and have Cap’n Crunch for dinner if I want to. The TV stays off and there is always a book or twenty-seven to keep me occupied for the quiet evenings at home. Coop is with me…..wherever I go…..following, following, always there…..and he’s great company. Never demanding (unless his food bowl is empty); always with a kiss on the end of his tongue. But I must say that without my mother, the spawn, and the Man around providing me with inspiration and awkward situations to write about I’ve come to the realization what a big bore I am.

I. Am. Boring.

I have yet to do something to make myself giggle. I don’t roll my eyes at myself. I don’t tell myself I’m gonna take my phone away if I don’t start talking to me in a better tone of voice. I don’t complain about what’s for dinner and stomp my foot in a fit of anger because something on the plate is green. I don’t make excuses to avoid doing the dishes and I actually brush my teeth and go to bed when I’m supposed to without being told fourteen times that it’s way past my bedtime.

I. Am. Boring.

I need a hobby. A hobby that takes me out of the house. Out of the house in something other than cargo shorts, Vans, and a T-shirt advertising Guinness. Something that does not take place at the retirement center six blocks from the house. (Although those velvet paint-by-number classes look fun; everyone needs a velvet Elvis!) I enjoy photography but haven’t had the opportunity to hone my skills lately. SHIT…that huge glob of mendacity just disgorged itself from my lips, didn’t it? That is what my father, in his all-encompassing wisdom would have called “an excuse”.

G-R-E-AAAAAA-T. I hate it when I’m right. I hate it when those light bulb moments take place illuminating my self-deception.

I. Am. Not. Boring.

I. Am. Lazy.

I Got Tagged

Random Chick tagged me with my very first meme; I am to write my memoir in six words. Not as easy a task as I first thought because there are so many descriptive six-word phrases I could put out there to describe myself:

Her sarcasm far exceeds her patience.
I have no patience for this.
Her mating with Satan produced offspring.
There ain’t no cure fer stupid.
When life serves lemons, make lemonade.
Nothing cures heartache more than laughter.
What idiot suggested I do this?
Was I the schmuck that agreed?
This’s bad for people with ADD!
OH NO…here we go again!
Don’t tell anyone I’m a sap.
I played hockey for Christ’s sake!
I am NOT a big wimp!
This is harder than you think!
OH LOOK…..is that a chicken?

But after much consideration, I settled upon the one I think describes me best:

Laugh at life; it’s all funny.




Am I supposed to tag someone? RC did so maybe I should as well. I’m going with these fabulous bloggers; I figure quality vs. quantity so I’ve kept my list short:

Mrs. R

Bonnie

Magpie

Attila

but don't feel obligated.....cause I love ya, man.

All In The Family…..Again

If you’ve been here a while, you’ll remember my story of the family birthday celebration for Spawn and Spawnette in which members of the group thought nothing of bringing with them to the party various types of livestock. This story is even funnier.

Saturday afternoon the EX, our spawn, and most of his family gathered at the home of his parents for an informal get-together/cookout. As we sat around sharing fun stories of our summer escapades so far, I found myself leaning in to hear a particularly funny story being told by the youngest cousin of the group. I’ll do my best to relay that story in all of its splendor and glory.

She began:

“So Husband and I had packed up the boys and headed out to Port St. Joe for Memorial Day weekend. We had to find a place that took not only deviant children but dogs as well cuz we wanted to take them to the beach with us. We found a real nice place that the boys and I enjoyed where fishin’ and the beach were right handy. I thought it was great but Husband said there were too many rednecks around us apparent from their wife-beaters, cans of beer, and fat tattooed women in bikinis.

“After a relaxing weekend we arrived home Sunday afternoon with plenty of daylight for me to go take care of the horses. I headed straight for the barn as Husband and the boys unpacked the car. Small deviant went into the house and came running back yelling to his dad at the top of his lungs”,

“Dad, the dogs pooped in the house while we was gone!”

“Son,” he replied “we had the dogs with us so they couldn’t have pooped in the house.”

“They must have just done’d it cause there’s poop in the house, dad.”

As husband walked into the house he was slammed with the over powering stench of animal waste. “What the……” he yelled as he glanced toward the back of the house and noticed the back door was wide open. Walking further in he sees hoof prints of horse shit that have been tracked throughout the entire house. Apparently, their miniature horse spent the weekend hanging out in the house while the family was out of town. He was a big fan of the living room and spent most of his time there but did take a moment here and there to explore the rest of the house……every single room of the rest of the house…..the house that is currently on the market…….and is open to be shown at any given time. Yup, the horse had a great time and being the kind and courteous little guy that his is, even stayed off the couch because he knows he’s not allowed on the furniture.

And don’t forget, what is the first thing that horse manure attracts? Yup, on top of a house full of horse poop, they had an invasion of flies similar to the African locust swarm of 1986. What a fabulous way to spend the evening of your first day back from a weekend at the beach.

Gosh, and I thought I had it bad spending a weekend trying to keep my dog from peeing in the herb garden I just planted.

OMG Perfect Timing!

Hey everybody! Grab a six pack of Bud Lite, a glass of sweet tea, or a bottle of whine....just pick your poison, kick back, and meet me at Random Chicks' place for a fun-filled afternoon of (drum roll please)

Hurry up, I'm already there!!!!!

Nobody Loves Me, Everybody Hates Me, I'm Going To The Garden To Eat Worms

Hello extended family! I know, I know; I have been neglecting my loved ones but thought the least I could do was try and come up with a good excuse. Anyone up for it? If you feel this isn't a valid excuse just give it to me with both fists flying, okay? I've been dealing with a long-distance relationship going bad and rather than air my dirty laundry (because he really is a great guy) and bashing the name of a good man, I figured I would stew in my own juices and then let them flow when they were properly fermented and ready to intoxicate you.

DAMN - that was a good-assed excuse, wasn't it?!?!?!

No?

Really?

Well short of death, terminal illness, and/or natural disaster, what would be a good excuse for my negligence in blogging?

Go ahead, I can take it!

Filch it Friday

I found this really cool mosaic collage at Magpie’s place last week. I took a few minutes and put together earlier this week for a “Filch It Friday” post both a color and a black and white version of the mosaic. However, Random Chick beat me to the punch and posted it yesterday. Oh well, I’ll just filch from Magpie AND Random Chick instead of just Magpie. Thanks ladies!

Mosaic

This is fun if you have a few minutes to spare.

The concept:

1. Type your answer to each of the questions below into Flickr Search.

2. Using only the first page of results, and pick one image.

3. Copy and paste each of the URLs for the images into Big Huge Lab's Mosaic Maker to create a mosaic of the picture answers. (Right click the mosaic to copy and save.)

Questions:

1. What is your first name? Marnie

2. What is your favorite food? (any kind of) Meat

3. What high school did you go to? Fort Lauderdale

4. What is your favorite color? Orange

5. Who is your celebrity crush? Mark Wahlberg

6. What is your favorite drink? Coffee

7. What is your dream vacation? County Clare, Ireland

8. What is your favorite dessert? Cookie

9. What do you want to be when you grow up? Crime Scene Investigator

10. What do you love most in life? Family

11. What is one word that describes you? Sarcastic

12. What is your flickr name? Queen Goob

(click on the pictures for a bigger and better view)




Have fun and enjoy your weekend!


p.s. I caught the bus this morning....YEAH ME!

What The ƒü¢k???

WARNING: This post contains graphic language; parental discretion is advised.


This morning I awakened earlier than usual. I shat, showered, and shaved, got ready for work, and left the house by 6:30. Coffee in hand and my “everything fits in this bag because it’s really, really big” orange leather tote tossed over my shoulder, I headed out for a block and a half walk to the 80X express bus stop.

I drive an SUV that gets fourteen to sixteen miles to the gallon in town. There is a bus stop right around the corner from my house that goes directly to my work. I only live about seven miles from work as the crow flies but it’s a good thirty minute drive to get there each morning. The bus schedule indicates that from “my” bus stop to work it is a forty minute ride from start to finish. This is cool and I would still get to the office by 7:30 and not have to stay any later than usual.

So there I stood….on a busy six-lane road….in a bright red Hawaiian shirt so the bus driver wouldn’t miss me….and that MOTHER FUCKER DROVE RIGHT BY MY ASS! The mother fucker I KNOW saw me standing on Thomasville Road between the ABC Liquor store and the traffic court building. What the FUCK did he think???? That I was a piece of shit drunk waiting for the fuckin’ traffic court building to open so that I wouldn’t miss my hearing???? I – WAS – WEARING – THIS! AND…..the asshole WAS LATE! I got there early, stood on the street like a discount prostitute just tryin’ to score one more john so my pimp, Daddy MacTastic Dazzle wouldn't beat my ass to a bloody pulp. I’ve never ridden public transportation in this town before and the MOTHER FUCKER DROVE RIGHT BY MY ASS!

So I walked back to the house, grab the keys out of my “everything fits in this bag because it’s really, really big” orange leather tote, hopped into my own personal mini-public transportation microbus, pull out of the driveway, and headed to work.

At least I got to pop back into the house and get a coffee refill.

Who Says It Needs To Be Halloween?

Spawnette invited a friend to spend the night last night. The two of them made plans to go to the movies (as long as I was willing to taxi them) to see the new thriller/horror movie, The Strangers. They even agreed to let me go to the movies with them if I promised to sit off to the side in an unoccupied part of the theatre all by myself with no one to grab during the film. I did not have a problem with my expulsion from the human race; I was going to the movies!

Much to my dismay, by the time I returned home from work yesterday afternoon the girls had changed their minds on what movie they wanted to see. Brace yourselves for a moment. Okay, are you ready? They wanted to see that Kung Pau Chicken Panda movie. UN – AC – CEP – TABLE. (Don’t get me wrong, I love animated movies just as much as the next mom but come on, if you had your choice between a martial arts panda with a predictable outcome and a suspenseful scary movie, which movie would you pick?) I pulled out the AMC20 afternoon listings and through divine intervention was able to find the two movies beginning and ending only fifteen minutes apart. Thank You Baby Jesus, A-Men.

We jumped into my gas-guzzling SUV and flew to the theatre with just moments to spare. We purchased our matinee-priced tickets, fought our way through the concession stand line, filled a smuggled brown lunch bag with some of the girls’ popcorn for myself, and off we went to our respective theatres; The Strangers in theatre 3, and Panda Excrement in theatre 16.

How many of you have been to the movies lately? Is it just me or have the previews been over-run with advertisements. I’m there to see a motion picture, not complete an in-depth critique listing the pros and cons of the seven automobiles promoted before the previews of upcoming movies. I. ENJOY. THE. PREVIEWS.

After the movies (no, I’m not telling you how the movie ended…..) the girls and I grabbed a bite to eat at The Red Elephant, packed up our leftovers, and went home for the evening.

As the evening progresses, the girls tire of playing the video game Rock Band. They come to my bedroom with a stack of DVD’s asking which of the movies they have selected is the scariest. Oh yes, my friends, the girls want to have a “Scary Movie Night” at my house. I look through the selection and determine they would NEVER appreciate Bruce Campbell in Army of Darkness as much as I so I chose for them Boogeyman, Phantasm, Candyman, and Dawn of the Dead. Of the four, they chose Boogeyman as their first film of horror……

I shit you not when I say that no less than seven minutes later blood-curdling screams emitted from my living room along with surround-sound horror movie music and sound effects. It. Was. Awesome.

I fell asleep before the first movie of their all-night-horror-movie-marathon was over. When I lept out of bed this morning to slap my alarm into ten-more-minutes-of-sleep-submission, Spawnette was curled into a fetal possision against the dog on the floor of my bedroom. No covers, no pillow, nothing at all to cover her feet and a friend that was AWOL.

My job was done.

My....God....I love scary movies.

For a great list of scary movies, visit the Boxoffice Prophets - last list on the page.

A Right of Passage

I've been suffering tennis elbow (surfin' the web doesn't help by the way) and this is something I found - verbatim – “Tennis elbow is so common and the age occurrence so striking, that it seems both accurate and reassuring to consider this illness a ‘rite of passage’ through middle age.”

A right of passage? A RIGHT OF PASSAGE?????? What the hell does that mean? I want my right of passage to be perky boobs and slim thighs. I want my right of passage to be retirement at the age of 45 with the rest of my golden years spent around the pool with Cocoa serving me frozen margaritas. I want my right of passage to be fun, exciting, and full of pleasure. There should be a party with alcohol flowing and lots of fattening food. There should be bells….whistles….male strippers. I want crepe paper and balloons. A reason to go shopping for a new dress; a dress just like the one worn by Audrey Hepburn portraying Eliza Doolittle attending the Embassy Ball. And I want to look that good wearing, too. I want Mark Wahlberg on one arm and Daniel Craig on the other. I want gifts and money bestowed on me by well-wishers and loved ones. And I want Ty Pennington to show up at my door with his team of builders with the sole purpose of leveling my home, sending me on a week long vacation to the Caribbean, and having a brand new home right there on my lot with updated appliances and furniture waiting for me when I return.

I do not want this never-ending nagging pain. Gooooooolly, Andy, maybe next we can whack my knees and take out my shoulders leaving nothing behind but arthritis and bursitis. Yeah – that sounds like a good time!

Calling All Super Moms

It was hinted in a comment of an earlier post that as a mother I have “Super Powers”. I think it’s high time that mommies unite and become one with those powers that are at this moment lying dormant within our core.

I’ve made a list of all things powerful that we as mothers suppress; things that need to be brought to the forefront of our daily lives. Things to better the lives of those around us; the lives of our loved ones. Each of these powers should also be connected to a super-hero name so in the true effort to join together across our fabulous nation and beyond, I’ve started a list with the aspiration that you, my friends, will continue to add to it in the hopes that this world……our world, will be a better, safer, more extraordinary place for our offspring to thrive.

(This is where you stand tall, place one hand on your hip, salute with the other, and fix your eyes on the horizon.)

The Burnisher – She has the ability to spit into a tissue enough saliva to clean the faces of two dozen children.

Sackagawea – She is able to pack her entire family’s clothing and necessities into one backpack for a three week trek through the Carpathians.

Phlegm – She is capable of hocking a loogie large enough to match those spewed forth by volcanic eruption and hurling it through the atmosphere restraining unsuspecting victims where they stand.

The Impaler – She is able to slay large bugs from a distance of 4.3 miles.

The Eradicator – She is capable of obliterating any and all memories of the drunken imbecile she made of herself the previous evening.

Spew – She can relay all of her displeasure in one continuous non-interrupted string of profanity without insult or injury to innocent bystanders.

The Exterminator – She can slay an entire village with just one, small, flatulent discharge.

Skurrey – She has the ability to multitask no less than 463 things at one time.

Sinusoid – She can totally and completely block out all sound.

Delgada – No matter what she wears, she looks svelte. If she lets you borrow her clothing, so do you. She’s vain and self-absorbed but only when wearing her black latex cat suit with her thigh-high stiletto boots. (We at the Super Mom Command Center have limited this to once a month, twice during her birthday week.)

It’s your turn; The SMCC is seeking more comrades to add to our faction. Bring them one; bring them all. Nothing, and I mean nothing, should stand in the way of being the best mommies we can……….without going totally and completely insane.

To make YOUR OWN Superhero, go here just like Random Chick did!!!

Summer Jobs

I love my kids. No really, I do. They’re funny, inventive, creative, boisterous, argumentative, belligerent, cantankerous, hormonal, quarrelsome (but we call this petulant because it sounds way cooler)……..WAIT! I’m trying to tell you how great they are and I got side tracked by this morning’s “conversation” with my daughter as I was leaving for work. Yeah, early morning conversations with teenaged girls are my favorite. Goes well with a nice, hot cup of coffee. Lots of sugar and milk. In the coffee, not over my daughter’s head. Here I go digressing again…….that’s what I do people, and I do it oh so well!

Back to my opening comment; I love my kids. Now that final exams are over and school is out for the summer I had a brief moment of peace before I realized that SCHOOL WAS OUT FOR THE SUMMER! I’m not married. I work a full-time job in addition to my many mommythingsIdothatnooneelsecandobecausetheydon’tdothemright. Oh for the love of God what the hell am I going to do with the offspring?!?!?

We took this past weekend and spent it at the beach. I figured we all deserved a break. There you go guys, there’s your vacation! Hope you had a good time now get a job. Is that cruel?

Yea, I thought not.

Spawn is off to Pensacola to work with FAPOS for the next three weeks. One down, one to go.

Spawnette. Ahhhhh, Spawnette. *Big sigh*

“Sweet Pea? Have you thought about getting a job for the summer?”

“I’ll work at that shoe store by the lake.”

“Honey? Not gonna happen. You come by your shoe-whoreness naturally so nope, don’t even think about it.”

“I’ll work at the mall.”

“Sugar? How are you going to get there? You don’t drive and I work all day. On the other side of town. In the opposite direction. Is there anything close by that you would be happy doing?”

“Yeah.”

“Want to fill me in?”

“’Kay.”

“And?”

“I wanna be a Movie Critic.”

“A Movie Critic? Now that is an aspiration I had not aimed for when I was 15. Tell me Sweetling, how are you going to become a movie critic?” (As I think to myself of her difficulties speaking, let alone writing, in complete sentences. And she wants to become a movie critic?!?!?)

“You know that list you made?”

“Which one? I’m a compulsive list maker.”

“The one you just updated.”

“That narrows it down to about twelve.”

“The color-coded one.”

“Oh, the updated list of our DVD’s?”

“Yeah.”

“And how does this help you get a job as a Movie Critic?”

“I’m gonna watch all the movies.”

“And?”

“I’m gonna rate them for you. “

“That sounds arduous.”

“Huh?”

“Never mind, go on.”

“I figure if I watch four movies a day everyday of summer break I can be done before school starts.”

“Perfect, Honey, I’ll let your dad know so he can send you a paycheck.”

“Sweet....hey Mom? We’re out of popcorn.”

Wordless Wednesday.....Or Rather Wordless Until I Finish Writing My Blog For Later Today

"Why I Don't Swim In The Ocean Reason Number 42".





(Taken last Saturday while we were on our mini vacation.)

I'm The Weiner.....

of the prestigious “Seal of Coolness”. The MOST fabulous Random Chick has taken it upon herself to award me with a most undeserving award…..at least according to me kids it is. We all know how cool I am even on those days my coolness factor isn’t registering on the Richter Scale I. Crack. Myself. Up.

So a toast to you R.C. (we Southerners love us some RC, Sugar) and three cheers! Or three drinks should you prefer.

Hip, hip, hurray!
Schlip, hip, Hey Ray!
Fhlip, schnip…………THUNK.

Too much sun; she’s out cold after only three rather sizeable Martinis.

Shhhheeeez, what a welterweight!

Back From The Beach

Just back from a trip to the beach with Merlee and family; will fill you in as soon as I get my work caught up. Enjoy one of the photos I took while we waited for our children to return from wandering the shoreline.