butterbur-51919I’ve always been a fan of Kermit The Frog.  He’s the first thing that comes to mind when I think of green.  After all, it isn’t easy.

Kermit is definitely a sexy beast who looks good with or without clothing, yet Kermit is the epitome of nudity.  When you think about it, he’s the only Muppet who can pull off the totally nude look.

Okay, so maybe Rowlf The Dog is naked, but he always has that piano at waist level, which tells me he’s insecure about something.  I suspect I know what it is…

He’s not neutered, of course.  Geez.  You guys are such pervs.

<insert public service message about spaying/neutering your animals or I will cut your balls off.>

Where is this post going?  Good question.

If you’re still reading and haven’t gone to PBS to watch Sesame Street, then I will tell you where this post is headed.

To the gutter.  Or actually, to the streets.  Follow my logic.

For some reason, in thinking about Kermit, I began to wonder if Kermit was a lover or a fighter.  He always pushes away Miss Piggy’s advances, which suggests he may be a fighter. But who would he fight with? That annoying Elmo? Hopefully.

Which begs the question: Who would win if Kermit got into a fight with Elmo?

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I’m not talking about one of those “You took the last fruit roll-up so I’m going to kick you in the shins and run away” fights.  I’m talking about a true fight.  With biting and crap.  Who would win?

That frisky frog is one good looking dude, but is he scrappy?  He seems like such a nice guy, and he does let Miss Piggy walk all over him.

Okay, she doesn’t literally walk all over him, as that would most certainly crush his rib cage…unless he’s into that sort of thing.

Wait, a frog doesn’t have ribs.  Plus for Kermie!

SMACKDOWNBut what about his physical prowess?  He has scrawny arms, but is he strong?  Does he work his core, or only his glamour muscles?

He might be an underrated opponent just because of his size, yet he might be able to bench press like a sonofabitch.

I’ve seen it done.  Not by an amphibian, but by scrawny guys at the gym whose moms drop them off after swim practice.

But then there’s Elmo.  I don’t know what species he is, other than a creeper who talks like a child despite the fact he frequently wears business suits.

I think he’s supposed to be a monster of some sort, but I don’t know any monsters who giggle like school girls.

Come to think of it, maybe he’s neutered, and that’s why he has such a high-pitched voice.

That could be a point in his corner for overpowering Kermit, as he wouldn’t have his manly monster parts to get in the way of a smackdown.

Instead of making you read my word vomit, which is clearly what this post is, I’ve decided to make a tally of things each opponent has going for and against him.

You’re welcome.

Elmo Pros

 

Elmo Con (1)

So there you have it:  my thoughts on who would win in a fight on Sesame Street.  The outcome is unclear, and I suppose I will leave it up to you to decide who would prevail in this matchup of Muppets.

Let me know your thoughts, and if I can figure out how to do a little chart of everyone’s answers, I will.  And by “I” I mean if someone else can figure that out. We all know I can’t figure that out.  If I could, I would have done it already.

So let me know who you think would win, and your thoughts on why. This is a very important topic.  It’s really for the kids.

jumping off diving board**This post is syndicated with The Levison Group and originally appeared in various publications across the U.S.**

It’s summertime and the living’s easy. Well, maybe the living isn’t easy but it’s definitely summertime.

Summer is my favorite time of year and lounging at the pool is one of my favorite pastimes, and not just because there’s a great concession stand. However, I can never escape my legal tendencies, even at the pool, and every year when I go I think about the legalities behind it.

People undoubtedly injure themselves every year at their local swimming hole. From belly flops to slip and falls, the pool most certainly has its fair share of lawsuits.

So why is it that none of us sign a waiver when we’re admitted? Obviously the pool hasn’t hired me as their lawyer because if it did it would require everyone to sign a waiver before accessing the pool.

I’ve thought about what it should include, and here is my proposed waiver.

  • I agree not to run at the pool. I’m not sure why I would run around the pool as it’s all the same body of water and one part isn’t any more exciting than the other.
  • I will throw away my trash from the snack bar so ant farms don’t set up camp around the only available table. I will also agree to give the rest of my pretzel with cheese to the woman who has been eying it since I sat down.
  • I will not stand on the diving board while yelling to my friends about what kind of jump to do. I will collaborate with my friends and come to a decision about the jump before approaching the board.
  • I will not bring water guns to the pool and shoot them at unsuspecting people who didn’t want to get blasted in the face with chlorine water. I’m not sure why I would bring a gun that shoots water to be used while simultaneously standing in water.

kids at pool

  • I will not shove my body into a suit from last season and parade around the pool. I will accept that I have gained a few pounds and buy the next size up.
  • I will not spray sunscreen. I will use the stuff from the bottle because the spray sunscreen is ridiculous. I’m not that lazy.
  • I will not yell at my friends across the pool about stupid stuff.
  • I will read up-to-date magazines so I can share them with other pool goers when I’m done. Everyone deserves to be caught up on the latest celebrity gossip.
  • I will not throw a tantrum like it’s the end of the world when my parents make me leave the pool. I will come back the next day. And the next.
  • I will wear shoes in the restroom, because it’s gross not to
  •  I will ignore the fact that the lifeguards are all 16 years old and weigh 100 pounds and couldn’t even save my left foot if I was drowning.

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  • If I fall asleep at the pool I won’t snore. If I do, I understand if other pool goers move my chair away from them.
  • I will not block the exit ladder in the deep end of the pool. If I’m under 10 years old I shouldn’t be in the deep end anyway.
  • I will not talk loudly on my cell phone while laying out. I realize, however, it’s acceptable to do so only if I discuss juicy gossip on the phone and then let other pool goers in on the details.
  • I will not ask my friends whether that was a good cannon ball. It’s a cannon ball. There’s no skill.

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Maybe this waiver wouldn’t deter these behaviors from happening at the pool, but it would at least give a basis to kick people out for their idiotic behavior. Then again, if people were kicked out for violating these rules, there would be no one but me left at the pool. Come to think of it, that wouldn’t be so bad.

Hey local pool, call me.

The real pool rules

It’s Mother’s Day, which means Facebook feeds everywhere are filled with homages to moms.  Happy Mother’s Day to all of you moms out there, and Happy Mother’s Day to me too.

Okay, so I’m not a mother in the sense that I pushed kids out of my hoo ha, but I still think I’m a mother after all.

Granted, some people would agree I’m a mother, but would then add an unfortunate expletive after that.  Those people suck.  Duh.

Hoo-ha pushing or not, I’m a mother all year long.  No, not to human babies, although I swear I love them as much as if I’d delivered them myself.

Disturbing?  Absolutely.

True?  Totally.

Max in a tux with a smooch this pooch pillow

So how am I mother, you ask?  (Aside from the a-forementioned curse word?)  Here are a few reasons:

1.  I deal with poop all the time.

No, it isn’t in a diaper, but I have to pick it up with a plastic bag, so I’m still hurting the environment the same way.

The bad part is that unlike babies who (hopefully) grow out of needing moms to tend to their bowels, my dogs will never become sufficient at picking up their own poo (with anything other than their mouths).

2.  I take them to daycare

Yes, I’m that mom, and if you took your dog to daycare, you would know why we do.  Best money ever spent, and I don’t even have to pack a lunch for them!

Much like mothers of human babies, I also worry about what they’re learning at daycare.  I fear one day Shady Jack will come home and drop the f-bomb.  I know that guy is learning bad language from all the other pups, as it certainly wouldn’t come from my angel.

3.  I’m up at least twice during the night with them

From whimpering to peeing to running out of water, I’m up with them a few times a night when all I really want to do is sleep.  Matt and I take turns pretending to be asleep so we don’t have to get up.  We’re just like a real family!

Jack in rescued collar4.  One of them is always going to the doctor

From the sniffles to randomly being attacked by two dogs, one of them is always going to the doctor for something.  We haven’t had a pink eye outbreak yet, but I know it’s coming.  (No thanks to daycare.)

5.  I spoil them with toys and treats they don’t need

Do they need baskets full of toys and an entire cabinet of treats?  Not anymore than your kid needs 10 Barbie dolls and a Malibu playhouse.

Yet, whenever I’m at a pet store, I feel obligated to get them something.  After all, they deserve it, right?

Bentley in bowtie6.  I talk to them in a baby voice.

I don’t want to admit this, but I do.  I sometimes talk to them like they’re babies and I ask them questions.  I don’t expect answers from them…yet…they’re only toddlers.

7.  I assume everyone wants to see pictures and hear stories about them.

Much like moms with their wallets full of baby photos, I’m the same way with my iPhone full of dog pics. Do you want to see them?  Not any more than I want to see the photo of your kid’s school picture.

He's actually running!

8.  I’m convinced they’re the cutest things ever and no one has cuter babies.

This is not up for debate.  I’m convinced of it because it’s 100% true.

9.  I will personally inflict pain to anyone who hurts them.

For reals.  Don’t even think about it.

10.  Our house is in constant disarray because of their toys and play time.

They can’t learn to put their toys away before getting out more, and I’ve often threatened to take them away if they don’t start taking care of them better.

Shady Jack in tuxI then burst into tears because I realize I’ve turned into my mother.

11.  They’re the reason we sometimes miss social events.

From missing a charity event because Bentley ingested stuffing from a toy, to missing a road trip with friends because Shady Jack’s junk was bleeding, we seem to miss events just as much as other parents do.

12.  Our friends are comprised of their friends’ parents

Just like soccer moms team up together in their velour track suits with their cup of espresso, dog moms team up together in their dog-walking clothes with their handful of poo bags.  It’s a shared bond, and no, you can’t join in.

13.  I correct other parents on their parenting styles

If I see someone handling their dog in a way I don’t agree with, I say something.  Did they ask me for help as I passed them while walking down the street?

No, but I’m sure they’re happier to have my wisdom, as I’m clearly an excellent dog parent.  Moms on the playground do the same thing.

Everyone hates those moms.

All 3 at photo shoot14.  I spend most of my disposable income on them

Have you seen the cute toys, bones, treats, collars, leashes and games you can buy for your dogs?  If you have, you definitely have a living room full of Angry Bird dog toys and doggie iPhones.

15. Conflicting parenting styles are a source of arguments

At times, Matt and I will disagree about which way is the best way to discipline the dogs.  Obviously, since I’m always right, my parenting style is correct.

However, it takes him a minute before I beat him down he comes to his senses and realizes my way is the right way.

See?  I’ve convinced you why I’m a mother.  I’ve also convinced you I’m a crazy dog person who probably needs to get a grip on reality, but you knew that already.  You read this blog.

Much like all moms, I love my boys far more than I should, and I wouldn’t trade the three of them for anything in the world.  I couldn’t be happier with them, and I’m so lucky I get to be their mom.

And just like other moms, I don’t have a favorite.*

*I totally have a favorite.

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Happy Mother’s Day to two of my favorite moms.  One of them gave birth to me and the other gave birth to the apple of my eye, my sweet niece, Miss K. The other handsome dudes in the photos are my dad and my brother, as if you couldn’t figure that out.

photo credit: Gage Skidmore via photopin cc

photo credit: Gage Skidmore via photopin cc

I just finished watching the entire series of “Breaking Bad.”  Coincidentally, I also began my life-long love of all things that are Aaron Paul.

The two are most definitely related.

Aaron Paul plays one of the main “Breaking Bad” characters, Jesse Pinkman.  Jesse is an aimless druggie who can’t find his way to anything other than a one-hitter box.  Although, I’m sure he could find himself to another kind of box..if you know what I’m saying. <wink wink.>

Yes, that was a crass joke.  I’m writing a post about why a guy who plays a drug dealer is an ideal boyfriend.  I’m not sure why you’d be surprised with a little play on the word “box.”

With every season of “Breaking Bad,” my love for Aaron Paul grew.  The show was amazing and brilliant, as were the double entendres I made during each episode.  Some of those were just downright fantastic.

photo credit: Gage Skidmore via photopin <a

photo credit: Gage Skidmore via photopin <a

What drew me back to the show each time was not only the plot twists, but the amazingly attractive meth-cook, Jesse Pinkman (played by Aaron Paul).

What is it about him that makes him so dreamy? It’s not just that he’s extremely good looking.  That helps, although that’s not the only reason I’d buy whatever Aaron was selling…even if it was blue crystal meth.

It’s that he has so many other qualities that make him so appealing.

He plays a bad boy, which isn’t something I’m normally into, but I found myself wanting to be bad just because it felt so good.

For those reasons, I made a list of why Aaron Paul would be the perfect boyfriend.  One glance at him tells you he’s crazy good looking, so that’s not even going to make the list of reasons he’s perfect.  Duh.  That’s too obvious.

1.  He’s supportive

http://instagram.com/p/etMqL9uIDT/

http://instagram.com/p/etMqL9uIDT/

There are so many times over the years he has yelled out “Yeah, bitch!”  In fact, when the show won the Golden Globe in 2014 for Best Drama, he accepted the award by yelling this endearing phrase.

What better way to support someone than to yell “Yeah bitch!” when they do something great?

Empty the dishwasher?  “Yeah bitch!

Get a promotion?  “Yeah bitch!

Want to order pizza for dinner instead of cooking?  “Yeah bitch!

Are you sensing a theme?  You should.  It’s support.

2.  He’s a good cook

is the perfect boyfriendI can’t say this for sure, but the meth addicts seem to think he makes good $hit, and I hear they’re pretty picky when it comes to their smack.

He’s also meticulous about having his cooking utensils cleaned properly, which is good, as mama likes a clean kitchen.

I’m not sure if his specialty is just moon juice, or if  he has other signature dishes, but I’d be willing to find out.

That guy knows his way around a kitchen, and by “kitchen” I mean “my lady parts.”

I’d let him heat things up any day.

3.  He’s good with kids

Aaron Paul with baby

http://youtu.be/Hq-gl0N3kxY

Look at how happy he is with this kid…and it’s a kid he doesn’t even know!  I can only imagine how he would nuzzle a kid when it was his own.  (I can also imagine how he would nuzzle me to make that kid.  I imagine that a lot.)

Not only does he seem comfortable around the kid, the kid seems comfortable around him as well. The kid is practically burying itself into his face.

Actually, I would do the same thing. That beard is just asking for nuzzling.

I’ve never wanted kids but I’d be willing to have them if they were with Aaron Paul.  I think we would have to start trying immediately. We’d practice a lot.

4.  He looks good in a uniform

photo credit: InstantColor via photopin cc

photo credit: InstantColor via photopin cc

Everyone loves a man in uniform, and once again, Aaron Paul delivers.

No one wears a haz-mat suit quite like he does.  Look at the way that yellow makes his face glisten.  He’s positively radiant.

And what else?  HE’S HOLDING A DIFFERENT FRICKING BABY!  (See #3 above for why that’s so awesome).

I never thought haz-mat suits were sexy until Aaron Paul came along.  Why would I?  How many times do you look at your local sewer worker knee-high in waste and think “I’d like to rip that suit off of him and get him really dirty.”

Hopefully not often, but if you do, I’m not here to judge.

Now, however, I see that yellow haz-mat suit in a whole new light…and it’s not just light from the radioactive materials.

5.  He smells really good

photo credit: gdcgraphics via photopin cc

photo credit: gdcgraphics via photopin cc

Okay, I don’t know about this one, but I’d love to find out personally.  (HINT: Aaron Paul….let me sniff you.)  He just looks like someone who would smell good.  Right?

I imagine he smells like a forest on a spring day, with just the right mix of pine needles, musk, and Axe body spray.  I’ve tried to recreate the smell with car air fresheners, but I haven’t been able to get it just right.

Maybe I should get the air fresheners from Walt’s car wash.  They probably have a Pinkman scent.  I bet it would be in the shape of a beaker.

I could go on with more reasons why Aaron Paul would be the best boyfriend ever, but I don’t want to convince any of you to go after him.  He’s mine, so hands off.

And what about the fact I’m already married?  No worries.  Matt is cool with my relationship with Aaron Paul, as he knows love knows no bounds (or in the case, it knows nothing based in reality).

Pssst!  Aaron!  Call me.

-I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Clause-I’ve never been big into Christmas at all, so Christmas songs are just not my jam.

Fortunately, I’m using this post as an excuse to feature photos of random dogs in Santa gear.  That is totally my jam.

It’s not that I hate Christmas, it’s just that I don’t feel the Christmas spirit people talk about, unless that Christmas spirit is feeling drunk.  Then I totally get that feeling.  I get that year-round.

Don’t get me wrong, I love getting gifts, so please don’t interpret my lack of enthusiasm as a suggestion you don’t need to give me a gift.

Quite the contrary. I need gifts to cheer me up around the holidays because Lord knows the Christmas songs don’t do it.

The other day I was somewhere unwillingly being subjected to Christmas cheer when I heard the song “I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus.”  I’ve found that song annoying for decades but I’ve never really stopped to think about the lyrics.

They’re creepy.  It’s just a super creepy song.

photo credit: Doxieone via photopin cc

photo credit: Doxieone via photopin cc

You already know it’s a song about a kid spying on his mom while she’s dry humping Santa, but I’m going to take it that extra step and break it down for you line-by-line. Don’t worry, I’m going to add my commentary and the questions I have for the kid.

Okay, so he doesn’t technically say he sees them dry humping, but we all know the score.

I saw Mommy kissing Santa Claus
Underneath the mistletoe last night.”

—-you saw your mom kissing a mythical creature and all you thought to do was write lyrics to a lame song? You didn’t try to snap a photo with your iPhone or use the nanny-camera to record it?  You wrote a song?  Really?

Someone has been watching a little too much Glee.

How do you know it was Santa that your mom was kissing? Lets not jump to conclusions that Santa is stepping out on Mrs. Claus.  Do you have any solid evidence to support the assertion?  Of course you don’t.  You were too lazy to even  SnapChat a picture of this alleged embrace.

Let’s not give Santa the stigma of being a ladies man unless you can back it up with a poorly recorded video.

photo credit: DaPuglet via photopin cc

photo credit: DaPuglet via photopin cc

As for your mom…well…it’s not that shocking that she was caught getting a little naughty during the holidays.  Let’s just say this isn’t her first go-around under the mistletoe.

Which begs the next question. How the hell do you know what a mistletoe looks like? How old are you?!

I’m in my 30s and I’m not sure I could identify a mistletoe, yet you spotted one with your laser vision from across the room?

You’re a weird kid.

She didn’t see me creep
down the stairs to have a peep

—creep is right. You’re a creepy kid who is most definitely going to turn into a peeping Tom.  Given this behavior at such a young age, I’m confident you’re going to grow up to be one of those men who wears garter belts under his work pants and complains that your cats don’t tell you enough that you’re pretty.

Stop creeping on your mom and go back to bed.

photo credit: jdlasica via photopin cc

photo credit: jdlasica via photopin cc

She thought that I was tucked
up in my bedroom fast asleep.”

—that’s where you should be, you spoiled little brat. Don’t you understand what bedtime means? It doesn’t mean “spy on your mom.”

It means you secretly go online and watch episodes of “Buffy the Vampire Slayer” and look for shots of Sarah Michelle Gellar’s belly button.  That’s what normal boys do!

Why do you have to bother your mom while she’s in the throes of passion?  She’s just trying to get her grove back after shooting out a bunch of kids who don’t know how to follow some simple fricking directions and go to bed when they’re told to.

Maybe Mama wants some “bedtime” of her own. Ever think of that, creeper?

photo credit: AndrewC75 via photopin cc

photo credit: AndrewC75 via photopin cc

Maybe if you weren’t hyped up on energy drinks you wouldn’t have the jitters and could go to bed like a normal human being.

Then, I saw Mommy tickle Santa Claus”

—yeah…tickle. That’s what you saw. Just an innocent game of “tickle.” Totally.

Underneath his beard so snowy white”

—I’m not sure what you’re referring to when you say “underneath his beard” but whatever it is, it’s probably nothing someone your age needs to see.

If by “beard” you mean pants, them yeah, she was probably tickling him real nice-like under his “beard.”

Oh, what a laugh it would have been
If Daddy had only seen
Mommy kissing Santa Claus last night”

photo credit: komehachi888 via photopin cc

photo credit: komehachi888 via photopin cc

—yeah. Daddy finds infidelity hysterical, especially when it’s done in the house he works 70 hours a week to pay for. It’s a real laugh out-loud moment, especially when Daddy finds an extra “beard” balled up on the floor next to the Christmas tree.

Had Daddy seen what was going on, he wouldn’t have gotten a laugh. What he would have gotten was his 12 gauge shotgun and given Santa 10 seconds to put his “beard” back on and leave the premises before the “Stand your ground” rule was enforced.

Daddy is not a fan of gun control…or of mommy whoring it up.

I wish there were more verses to this jolly tune, but the kid who wrote it probably had ADD and moved his focus away from his slut-bag mom and onto the shape of his thumbnail.

Had he not been sidetracked, I suspect the next verse would be about seeing Daddy bitch-slap Mommy and pistol whip Santa Claus.

Somehow, that’s just not as catchy as the original lyrics.

DISCLAIMER:  Yes, I know the song is supposed to suggest that she was really kissing his dad.  I’m not an idiot.  I just like to believe Mommy is getting a little on the side.  

Why moms can find lost thingsFor some reason, men can’t seem to find things. Maybe it’s because they’re usually focused on other things; like what’s in their pants…or getting into yours.

Whatever the reason, my experience with men and locating items is they can’t seem to do it without my help.

Am I just a really good finder of missing items?  Probably, although I often lose my dignity at karaoke bars and have trouble locating it.  (It’s not at the bottom of five glasses of vodka.  That’s always the first place I check.)

Maybe I’m just overly talented at finding things and that’s why I’m often summoned to locate anything from missing car keys to the mustard in the fridge…in the same exact place it always resides.

I suspect part of the reason I’m so good at tracking things down is because I’m great at word searches.  I’m fricking fantastic at those bitches. I can find the most complicated of words among a sea of vowels and consonants.

photo credit: Thomas Hawk via photopin cc

photo credit: Thomas Hawk via photopin cc

Actually, that fact doesn’t have anything to do with this post.  I just wanted to find a way to sneak in the fact that I kick ass at word searches.

Mission accomplished.

Back to locating things: I don’t think I’m alone in my experience of being the go-to person for finding lost items.  I think it’s a widespread occurrence.

For some reason, men need women not only for procreating and endless hours of boob-grabbing, but also for tracking down missing underwear.

Dare I say this is an epidemic?  I dare.

Dare I say it’s worldwide?  I double dare.

I’m totally a daredevil when it comes to making allegations about men losing things. (I also love Double Dare and Marc Summers.)

"Where's MY uterus?" See what I mean?  Males are always looking for something... photo credit: Mohammed Alnaser via photopin cc

“Where’s MY uterus?”
See what I mean? Males are always looking for something…
photo credit: Mohammed Alnaser via photopin cc

I feel confident saying that women across the globe are inundated with inquiries as to where their male loved-one last left his favorite pair of running shoes.  (In the bathroom under the sink.  Duh.)

This phenomenon is not limited to adult males.  Rather, such forgetfulness starts at a young age.

Forgetting where they put their favorite fire engine develops into forgetting to call their girlfriends and then eventually leads to forgetting they were supposed to be home at 6:00 to clean the house.

Okay, those last two aren’t necessarily about losing things but I think they support the overall premise that men are forgetful.

What’s my point? That’s an excellent question.  My point is that either men are lazy and want to make women do all of their searching, or men are born with an inherent ability to lose things.

I’m not sure which explanation makes me sadder.

The only logical conclusion I’ve drawn from all of this (aside from the fact I will definitely get comments on this post about being a man-hater), is the reason women are so great at locating lost items is because of their uterus.

photo credit: dullhunk via photopin cc

photo credit: dullhunk via photopin cc

It’s one of the things that makes us different from men, and it’s clearly where we derive our ability to locate long lost possessions.

Notice I didn’t say it’s our vaginas.  It’s not.  Vaginas have enough things to worry about without having to locate little Timmy’s lost soccer uniform.

Plus, men can purchase artificial vaginas and I don’t think they have any better luck locating things just because they have a pocket pu$$y.

This leads me to my well-reasoned belief that women are capable of finding nearly anything simply because we have (or have had) a uterus.

It’s a fact, mostly because I said so.

The uterus is basically a beacon shining brightly, pointing the way to all of those missing puzzle pieces and lone socks.  What else could be the cause of our magical powers?

Nothing.  It’s the uterus.

Does that mean if you’ve had a hysterectomy you are no longer a finder of things?  Of course not!  If you’ve ever had a uterus, even if it was subsequently removed, you still retain your mad GPS skills because you were initially granted the infinite tracking abilities a uterus provides.

So there you have it.  Mystery solved.  Now you know why everyone comes to women for anything that’s lost (or in plain sight).

Come to think of it, if women were in charge of the search party, they would have found Amelia Earhart within an hour.

woman with lost item

photo credit: oxygeon via photopin cc

photo credit: oxygeon via photopin cc

I’m published today over at In The Powder Room because for some reason they let me continue to write for them.  I have no idea why, but don’t knock it.

Today’s post is about the various reasons why Facebook is better than class reunions.  Yes, it’s awesome and yes, you should read it now.

Go there.  Do it.

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ninja momFrickety Frick, people!  I’m this month’s assassin in the Character Assassination Carousel over at http://www.ninjamomblog.com/.  She’s a big deal and has a hilarious blog and I’m actually still in shock that she enlisted me to be an assassin.  I wonder if I get paid in Skittles.

I wonder if I can get paid in Skittles.

In case you’re not “in the know,” The Character Assassination Carousel is a monthly murder of a children’s book.  Don’t worry, it’s a clean kill, so there’s no messy clean up.

Each month a new assassin takes his/her best shot at a ridiculous children’s book.  This month, I’m mocking “Where’s Waldo?

I know, it’s an easy target, but I’m an easy girl.

Wait…that came out wrong…

ENJOY!

WHERE’S WALDO? 

Where's Waldo-I don’t have kids, which is probably for the best, but doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy my monthly subscription to Highlights Magazine, or an episode of SpongeBob SquarePants.  (He lives in a Pineapple, people!  UNDER THE SEA!)

If only enjoying children’s TV shows could get me into the pre-boarding spot at the airport.  Apparently you actually have to have kids with you for that.  Pfft!

Despite my lack of little ones, I still enjoy the beloved “Where’s Waldo?” books***.  Why wouldn’t I?  Each edition is visually stimulating, and even more maddening than the next.

***NOTE:  If any of you would like to peruse one of these fine pieces of literature, I would recommend purchasing one for yourself.  In my experience, parents frown upon strangers looking over their child’s shoulder pointing out Waldo.  This activity can get you escorted out of the airport and placed on some sort of watch list.  Hypothetically, of course.***

photo credit: rhett maxwell via photopin cc

photo credit: rhett maxwell via photopin cc

However, with my love of tracking down the elusive Waldo comes a series of questions.  I’m demanding answers and hoping to get more than “Because Waldo is awesome.” (Thanks for that enlightening tid-bit, Mom.)

I deserve better than that, and so do the fine kids who are looking for him.

For those of you not on the same heightened literary plane as me, “Where’s Waldo?” is a series of picture books where the reader is summoned to find Waldo in a sea of people, places and things.

It’s harder than it sounds, as Waldo is a master of disguise, which is probably why his books have been so successful; his mortgage payment depends on not being able to locate him easily.

So the first obvious question I have is “Where’s Waldo?”  Although you may be able to locate him on paper, as far as I know, no one has ever met this mysterious fellow.  We’ve only seen his meme.

photo credit: palindrome6996 via photopin cc

photo credit: palindrome6996 via photopin cc

Does he ever go out in public as himself?  He doesn’t do book signings or publicity junkets, which truly speaks volumes to the success of his books.  Most publicists demand such things to drive sales.  Maybe he just doesn’t need it.

Really though, where is he?

Honestly, I hope he’s in prison, because that guy is probably a pedophile and shouldn’t be featured in children’s books anyway.

Something about him hiding in plain sight just creeps me out and makes me wonder if he’s housing a stash of fingers in a hope chest in his basement.

If no one has ever met him, do we know if he’s a real person? Maybe he’s the mythical Keyser Soze of children’s books.**

**Where’s Waldo? books are not only children’s books.  They’re also books for a highly sophisticated writer who writes a fascinating and hilarious blog http://lisanewlin.com.  I’m just saying.

photo credit: Carolyn Coles via photopin cc

photo credit: Carolyn Coles via photopin cc

Since we don’t know who he is, the next logical question is “Why, Waldo?  Why are you hiding?

The first reason that comes to mind is that he’s on the lamb.  For what?  I’m not sure, but I have a feeling it has to do with loan sharking.  I just have a hunch.

Trust me on this.

Why is he so intent on hiding?  I suspect it’s because he’s wanted by Interpol, which would make sense, as his travels span many continents.  Has anyone ever considered looking at his passport?  Is his name listed as only “Waldo” and nothing more?

How did he get to be so good at hiding?  What do we know about this Waldo guy, anyway?  We allow his likeness to come into our homes and sit on our coffee tables and backs of toilets, yet we know so little about him and his profession.

Is he a spy?  Where did he get his mad hiding skills?  Was it from years of playing hide and seek with his siblings?  Does he have siblings?  Did he assassinate them at a young age?  Is that why he’s on the lamb?

Now, I realize this next question may seem to be off topic, but follow it through.  “Why is he always wearing the same sweater?

It seems to me that if you want to blend in, wearing the same red and white striped sweater isn’t the best way to become a wallflower (unless you’re in a candy cane-themed room.  Then it’s truly the only way to become a wallflower).

photo credit: walknboston via photopin cc

photo credit: walknboston via photopin cc

Either way, I would think frequent costume changes would assist in avoiding detection.  Does he have several of those same sweaters, or is he just wearing the exact same outfit everyday?

I hope for everyone’s sake he has several of the same sweaters and he swaps them out every few days.

Otherwise, he’d be easy to locate based purely on body odor alone.  I suspect all that evading authorities would cause one to perspire, and if that sweater is a polyester blend, it will hold onto a stench until the end of time.

And what about those glasses?  Why not switch those up every now and again too?  I know the hipster look is in style at the moment (arguably), but shouldn’t he consider rocking some different frames to avoid detection?  Maybe he should get some contacts too.  Does he have a condition preventing a change in eyewear?  Those astigmatisms can be a real bitch.

And yet, despite all of my questions, he continues to evade all of us, and in a strange way, I say “Bravo to you, Waldo, if that is your real name.

On second thought, maybe he doesn’t skirt all of us.  Maybe it’s just my prying eyes he manages to avoid.  But then again, my eyes are usually filtered through a hazy film of vodka, so perhaps he isn’t as elusive as he thinks he is.

 

photo credit: Lynn Friedman via photopin <a href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/2.0/"

photo credit: Lynn Friedman via photopin

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I’m not sure if this is on the up-and-up to disclose other assassins, as I don’t know if assassins have an oath of silence.  I guess we will all find out soon if I mysteriously go missing.  For now, I shall ignore Omerta and tell you who the previous assassin was.  It was my friend Sarah at The Sadder But Wiser Girl.

Sadder but wiser

 

http://thesadderbutwisergirl.com/

She’s guest posted on my page before, and she’s awesome and hilarious.  If you go visit her, and you should, tell her I sent you.  Please also tell her our secret code she knows you’re legit. It’s Character Assassin Carousel.

It’s so obvious no one will guess it.  Let’s keep that password our little secret.

Who is the next assassin?

http://moms.fortwayne.com/?q=blogs/blog/3-rivers-2-kids

Her name is Bonnie Blackburn.  The name alone suggests her character assassin will be brilliant!

North West's guide to living with a horrible nameAs you know Kim Kardashian and Kayne West’s baby has entered this world via Kim’s money maker, and she’s already one!

I’m calling North “Baby Karwestian” mostly because it sure as hell beats what they named her in real life…

North West.  They named their spawn North West.

Just when I think those two can’t get any dumber, they go and totally surprise me with this ridiculousness.  I guess they’re overachievers in that sense.  I think it’s a fair assumption that they’re both idiots.  In case you need persuading, here’s some evidence.

Exhibit A for Kim:  Every single variation of Keeping Up with the Kardashians, Kim and Kourtney take Miami, Khloe and Kris take My Brain Cells, etc.

Exhibit A for Kayne:  His incoherent rant during the Red Cross fundraiser for Katrina victims.

As if Baby Karwestian doesn’t already have the Gucci playing cards stacked against her based upon her DNA, she has to go through life saddled with the name North West.

photo credit: Leo Reynolds via photopin cc

photo credit: Leo Reynolds via photopin cc

I can only hope for her sake that she’s similar to the math phenomenon that two negatives make a positive.

Here’s to hoping North West turns those negatives into positives…and that she turns her father into the authorities for being a total douchebag.

That’s a crime, right?  If so, he’s Public Enemy Number One.  Come to think of it, he’d probably conceed that just because he is confident he’s the best at everything in the world;  Just ask him.

I’ve been thinking about poor North West and all the horrible teasing she’s going to get based solely on that horrid name.

What’s worse is she’s destined to have an enormous booty, which will most likely be yet another topic of ridicule.  That’s a blog post for another day.

North West is going to learn how to handle being mocked for her name.  Sure, she could turn to kids who have gone before her, like Rumor Willis and Apple Martin, but I’d like to do my part to help too.

In an effort to prepare North West for the inevitable bullying she will receive, here are a few things I think kids will say to make fun of her ridiculous and directionally challenged name.

I can practically hear the kids yelling these taunts in the school yard.  Or, in her case, in the paparazzi-ridden private school at the oxygen bar where all the kids take their recess.  It’s right after yoga and colonics…between third and fourth period.

(When else would you do a colonic? After lunch?  Pft!)

Here are some nicknames:

  • North by Northwest (it’s a play on South by Southwest.  I feel like I have to spell that one out for you.)
  • South East.  (I find this one hilarious, as it’s the exact opposite of North West.  Get it?  South East?)

Here are a few jokes I can imagine the kids telling;

  • Where’s the best place to get <insert various sexual favors here>? North West.
  • Guess who likes to go ‘down south?’  North West.”
  • “Do you know where the entire football team goes after practice?  Up North West.” (Okay, I realize the majority of these are about her being a hoe-bag, but come on.  If the extremely overpriced shoe fits…hopefully it won’t.)
  • “Northwest Airlines:  We put our junk in the trunk.”

Like them? Please tell me you have better ideas for nicknames and jokes for North West. I know you guys are far more creative than I am.

 

photo credit: premasagar via photopin cc

photo credit: premasagar via photopin cc

We need to band together and come up with all the possible nicknames and jokes for North West, so we can tell her what they are and prepare her for the inevitable ribbing that will come her way.  And it won’t be the kind of ribbing that’s for her pleasure, I assure you.

Now tell me what you’re thinking!

HappyMother's DayHappy Mother’s Day to me!  (Oh, and to you too….)

Okay, so I’m not a mother in the sense that I pushed kids out of my hoo ha, but I still think I’m a mother after all.

Granted, some people would agree I’m a mother, but would then add an unfortunate expletive after that.  Those people suck.  Duh.

Hoo-ha pushing or not, I’m a mother all year long.  No, not to human babies, although I swear I love them as much as if I’d delivered them myself.  Disturbing?  Absolutely.  True?  Totally.

I have three dogs that are the loves of my lives.  Oh, and my husband too.

My dogs are my babies, and I couldn’t possibly love them more.  As you know, I recently wrote a post about why my dogs are better than your kids.  You can check that out here.

Max in a tux with a smooch this pooch pillow

He’s such a ladies’ man.

Okay, so I’m not saying my dogs are better than your specific kids, but just kids in general.

So how am I mother, you ask?  (Aside from the a-forementioned curse word?)  Here are a few reasons:

1.  I deal with poop all the time.

No, it isn’t in a diaper, but I have to pick it up with a plastic bag, so I’m still hurting the environment the same way.

The bad part is that unlike babies who (hopefully) grow out of needing moms to tend to their bowels, my dogs will never become sufficient at picking up their own poo (with anything other than their mouths).

2.  I take them to daycare

Yes, I’m that mom, and if you took your dog to daycare, you would know why we do.  Best money ever spent, and I don’t even have to pack a lunch for them!

Much like mothers of human babies, I also worry about what they’re learning at daycare.  I fear one day Shady Jack will come home and drop the f-bomb.  I know that guy is learning bad language from all the other pups, as it certainly wouldn’t come from my angel.

3.  I’m up at least twice during the night with them

From whimpering to peeing to running out of water, I’m up with them a few times a night when all I really want to do is sleep.  Matt and I take turns pretending to be asleep so we don’t have to get up.  We’re just like a real family!

Jack in rescued collar4.  One of them is always going to the doctor

From the sniffles to randomly being attacked by two dogs, one of them is always going to the doctor for something.  We haven’t had a pink eye outbreak yet, but I know it’s coming.  (No thanks to daycare.)

5.  I spoil them with toys and treats they don’t need

Do they need baskets full of toys and an entire cabinet of treats?  Not anymore than your kid needs 10 Barbie dolls and a Malibu playhouse.

Yet, whenever I’m at a pet store, I feel obligated to get them something.  After all, they deserve it, right?

Bentley in bowtie6.  I talk to them in a baby voice.

I don’t want to admit this, but I do.  I sometimes talk to them like they’re babies and I ask them questions.  I don’t expect answers from them…yet…they’re only toddlers.

7.  I assume everyone wants to see pictures and hear stories about them.

Much like moms with their wallets full of baby photos, I’m the same way with my iPhone full of dog pics. Do you want to see them?  Not any more than I want to see the photo of your kid’s school picture.

He's actually running!

He’s actually running!

8.  I’m convinced they’re the cutest things ever and no one has cuter babies.

This is not up for debate.  I’m convinced of it because it’s 100% true.

9.  I will personally inflict pain to anyone who hurts them.

For reals.  Don’t even think about it.

10.  Our house is in constant disarray because of their toys and play time.

They can’t learn to put their toys away before getting out more, and I’ve often threatened to take them away if they don’t start taking care of them better.

Shady Jack in tuxI then burst into tears because I realize I’ve turned into my mother.

11.  They’re the reason we sometimes miss social events.

From missing a charity event because Bentley ingested stuffing from a toy, to missing a road trip with friends because Shady Jack’s junk was bleeding, we seem to miss events just as much as other parents do.

12.  Our friends are comprised of their friends’ parents

Just like soccer moms team up together in their velour track suits with their cup of espresso, dog moms team up together in their dog-walking clothes with their handful of poo bags.  It’s a shared bond, and no, you can’t join in.

13.  I correct other parents on their parenting styles

If I see someone handling their dog in a way I don’t agree with, I say something.  Did they ask me for help as I passed them while walking down the street?

No, but I’m sure they’re happier to have my wisdom, as I’m clearly an excellent dog parent.  Moms on the playground do the same thing.

Everyone hates those moms.

All 3 at photo shoot14.  I spend most of my disposable income on them

Have you seen the cute toys, bones, treats, collars, leashes and games you can buy for your dogs?  If you have, you definitely have a living room full of Angry Bird dog toys and doggie iPhones.

Bentley sleeping in red sheets15. Conflicting parenting styles are a source of arguments

At times, Matt and I will disagree about which way is the best way to discipline the dogs.  Obviously, since I’m always right, my parenting style is correct.

However, it takes him a minute before I beat him down he comes to his senses and realizes my way is the right way.

See?  I’ve convinced you why I’m a mother.  I’ve also convinced you I’m a crazy dog person who probably needs to get a grip on reality, but you knew that already.  You read this blog.

Much like all moms, I love my boys far more than I should, and I wouldn’t trade the three of them for anything in the world.  I couldn’t be happier with them, and I’m so lucky I get to be their mom.

And just like other moms, I don’t have a favorite.*

*I totally have a favorite.

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Happy Mother’s Day to two of my favorite moms.  One of them gave birth to me and the other gave birth to the apple of my eye, my sweet niece, Miss K. The other handsome dudes in the photos are my dad and my brother, as if you couldn’t figure that out.