Friday, July 29, 2016

Fantastic Visions

Last night, I took a time out to watch the Fantastic Four with Bug. I have tried to do it numerous times and get interrupted each time. Still, last night did not disappoint in that task. I didn't get to finish it again due to mommy and house things. Anyway...during the movie, I could not help but notice...

ME: You know when he is stretchy dude in the vent system I wonder how long his wee wee goes and if it gets tied up in his peanuts. Does it get bigger or just longer? When he is stretchy dude is it limp or erect? Adrenaline has to kick in or something. I mean he is dragging himself along that metal. That has to hurt. Is the metal cold or hot? And why isn't he wincing when his wee wee gets hung up on the corners and he is on the straightaway? Or across the grates?

BUG: Mom! You are gross! Who even thinks about stuff like that.

ME: Well, he's naked. I know I wouldn't want my hoohah to get all stretched out like that and I am sure no man in America would want to see it either. And no one wants a va-jay-jay capable of swallowing large animals or children. That is why the stretch hero is a dude. It's OK to grow a wee wee bigger but not a hoohah. How could you not think about it? Except you. You should not even be thinking about stuff like that.

BUG: I'm not, Mom. Be quiet!

ME: Well, if the metal was cold or hot it could make a difference in whether he has a shrinky dinky or a hot dog. 

BUG: I CAN'T LIVE WITH YOU ANYMORE!!!


Seriously. Watch the movie and tell me you didn't think the same things.

Friday, July 15, 2016

Harry Potter House Butt Crack Chronicles #847801

Last night I was nasty and hot from cutting trees and gardening so I quickly took a shower when I finished. I couldn't stand myself and I was pretty sure there were some prehistoric bugs in my hair.

Hi. I am so happy to see you!




There was a knock at the door. Bug answered.

Some time passed and she stomped upstairs:

BUG: Mom, someone is at the door.

ME: Well, go see who it is. It is probably Joe.

BUG: I don't like answering the door.

ME: Do it! I am naked. I will get dressed.

*stomp*stomp*stomp*

Pretty soon I hear the door open and close.

*stomp*stomp*stomp*

BUG: Mom, it's the cops!

ME: Let him in!

BUG: I don't know him. He is a stranger.

ME: It is Joe. He is here about the electricity.

*stomp*stomp*stomp* opens door

BUG: My mom is naked. Wait for her here. She will be down after her shower.

JOE: Ok.

So I enter in my sweats and wet up do. I dressed for the occasion.

ME: Sorry about the mess. Just pretend you are at a cranker's house of hoarding and chaos.

JOE: Oh no worries. It looks lived in.

ME: Ew. The dreaded statement we all don't want to hear..."lived in."

Joe giggled.

I swear I really don't keep a wreck of a house but try to be neat and tidy most times.

Joe got his invoice paid and left. Bug and I had a chat about not being so rude to the cops. She insisted they were strangers and could wait outside until an adult could deal with them. Ack! Where did I go wrong?

BUG: And another thing, Mom. When you were talking to Joe, you had one boob in and one boob out of your bra. I could see it through your shirt. And you didn't have panties because your sweats were in your butt crack. I am sure he saw all that.

I looked down. Sho nuff.

Fuck me in the ass. Gah!

Wednesday, July 6, 2016

Can We Get Any More Random?

Bug is back from her Wyoming visitation and after a week of decompression and Momster moments, I think she has settled back down. It is always a tough time. I still can't get her to mow the grass without rude comments, threats, and bribery. I have failed. Back in the day (decades ago) when I was a kid and we walked up hill both ways to and from school, I just did things because I knew they were mine to do. My parents didn't have to scold me or bribe me. I did it out of respect because that is what you were supposed to do. That...and they could kill you.



Haha.

Yes. Parents actually had authority over kids and respect. Where did we go wrong?

Summer is sailing past me like a whistle fart. I can't get a grasp on anything. My writing sucks. My paid writing sucks even more badder. I can't finish two books I have started. Currently, I am mostly involved with working out, being a mom, keeping a clean house, and well...life.

Life gets in the way.

And bills. They keep coming and I don't want them anymore. I think I missed the right turn where I ran into a prince charming who would take care of me. My mom keeps telling me I am my own prince charming. She is a feminist. I really don't like that era of femiNazis. They can kiss my ass.

I want to be taken care of and treated like a princess like my dad said.



You other women can be self-sufficient. I don't like it anymore.

I need a little cheese to go with that whine. It is funny how I am the opposite of my mother. I like men. She does not. I like the companionship and well...sex is great! She does not.

Please, God, don't let me ever not like sex. Sex is awesome! Also, could I please get more of it. Please and thank you.

It's a problem at my age. Men can't keep up with me and I surely don't want to tangle with any young ones that can. I would have to put a garbage sack over their heads so I didn't feel like a pedophile and then once they started talking...duct tape. That then might make me a serial killer.



So...I say no to the cougar thingy.

Another reason why my sex drive is going through the roof more than normal is my workout load. If you increase exercise...you increase those sex doping thingies they call endorphins. I have no idea how we get dolphins in there. Some man probably named it that because how else would they refer to women's parts as tuna taco or the other fishy things. Ew. Gross.

I am seeing great progress in my workouts. Finally. Just in case you were wondering...to get an old lady back into shape takes an act of God. God gives me progress with an increased sex drive and no Dwayne Johnson to take care of the problem. Sigh.



Whew. It's getting hot in here. Speaking of heat...

Weather this summer has been all over the place. One day it is 93 with 54000% humidity and the next day I wake up to 55 with a high of 75. We have had little rain which means little tornado activity. Now...I'm not complaining about the lack of twisters, but the rain thingy is becoming pretty dire.

"They" say we are in a drought. Well, I have been in years of drought, baby, and rain once a week ain't no drought. This is not a real crisis, spoiled people of the near south. Can't you squeeze that condensation out of the air and water the crops?

I don't know. I still don't fit in around here although I am really trying. How many years does it take you to adjust to a new culture?

And if you think this post makes no sense, you should spend a whole day with me. I tell you. It's like I have teenager brain.



Can We Get Any More Random?

Bug is back from her Wyoming visitation and after a week of decompression and Momster moments, I think she has settled back down. It is always a tough time. I still can't get her to mow the grass without rude comments, threats, and bribery. I have failed. Back in the day (decades ago) when I was a kid and we walked up hill both ways to and from school, I just did things because I knew they were mine to do. My parents didn't have to scold me or bribe me. I did it out of respect because that is what you were supposed to do. That...and they could kill you.



Haha.

Yes. Parents actually had authority over kids and respect. Where did we go wrong?

Summer is sailing past me like a whistle fart. I can't get a grasp on anything. My writing sucks. My paid writing sucks even more badder. I can't finish two books I have started. Currently, I am mostly involved with working out, being a mom, keeping a clean house, and well...life.

Life gets in the way.

And bills. They keep coming and I don't want them anymore. I think I missed the right turn where I ran into a prince charming who would take care of me. My mom keeps telling me I am my own prince charming. She is a feminist. I really don't like that era of femiNazis. They can kiss my ass.

I want to be taken care of and treated like a princess like my dad said.



You other women can be self-sufficient. I don't like it anymore.

I need a little cheese to go with that whine. It is funny how I am the opposite of my mother. I like men. She does not. I like the companionship and well...sex is great! She does not.

Please, God, don't let me every not like sex. Sex is awesome! Also, could I please get more of it. Please and thank you.

It's a problem at my age. Men can't keep up with me and I surely don't want to tangle with any young ones that can. I would have to put a garbage sack over their heads so I didn't feel like a pedophile and then once they started talking...duct tape. That then might make me a serial killer.



So...I say no to the cougar thingy.

Another reason why my sex drive is going through the roof more than normal is my workout load. If you increase exercise...you increase those sex doping thingies they call endorphins. I have no idea how we get dolphins in there. Some man probably named it that because how else would they refer to women's parts as tuna taco or the other fishy things. Ew. Gross.

I am seeing great progress in my workouts. Finally. Just in case you were wondering...to get an old lady back into shape takes an act of God. God gives me progress with an increased sex drive and no Dwayne Johnson to take care of the problem. Sigh.



Whew. It's getting hot in here. Speaking of heat...

Weather this summer has been all over the place. One day it is 93 with 54000% humidity and the next day I wake up to 55 with a high of 75. We have had little rain which means little tornado activity. Now...I'm not complaining about the lack of twisters, but the rain thingy is becoming pretty dire.

"They" say we are in a drought. Well, I have been in years of drought, baby, and rain once a week ain't no drought. This is not a real crisis, spoiled people of the near south. Can't you squeeze that condensation out of the air and water the crops?

I don't know. I still don't fit in around here although I am really trying. How many years does it take you to adjust to a new culture?