Funny crap my husband says, April 2015 edition - lisanewlin.com - (1)Hello my friends!  I am back from a long hiatus from blogging. I’m sure you missed me, but I’m sure you missed my husband more. It’s okay.  I’ve come to terms with the fact that my readers love my hubby more than they love me.  Then again, what’s not to love, especially when he says some of the things he says.

So let’s get to it.  I have a long list because it’s been a while since I’ve done this so settle in for some good laughs. And I’ll say it again….he’s all mine….be jealous.

Parking Expert

Matt: “People who back into parking spaces should be sterilized.”

Receptionist

Matt:  “You need to pick up your prescription from Walgreens. They keep calling me and leaving me angry messages.”
Lisa: “It’s a recording.”
Matt:  “She has a tone.”

photo 2 (14)Humble Husband

Lisa:  “You’re such a martyr.
Matt:  “No I’m not.” <whispers while looking down> “I’m just a really good guy.

Accepting of Others

Matt: <while watching some woman do something strange> “What’s this bitch doing? Aside from being a bitch?

Equine Expert

Lisa:  “Why do they say ‘I have to pee like a race horse?‘”
Matt:  “Because they have to pee a lot.”
Lisa: “But then why don’t they just go pee if they have to pee? Why wait?
Matt: “This conversation is boring.

photo 1 (13)Animal Lover

Lisa: <Observing Matt pushing around the outside plants with a broom> “What are you doing? Looking for critters like chipmunks?”
Matt:  “I don’t care about chipmunks. They’re awesome and fight danger in their spare time. I’m looking for snakes. Snakes serve no purpose.” <begins singing “Chip and Dale’s” theme song>

Partier

Matt:  “What do you want to do tonight? Well, not so much do as watch.

Compassionate Man

photo 3 (10)Matt:  “My eye is starting to droop. Oh no!
Lisa:Don’t talk to me about droopy eyes. I’ve had a droopy eye for a year.
Matt:  “It’s not a competition. Let me have this.”

Insightful

Matt:  “Remember that movie ‘The Land Before Time?’ When Little Leaf’s mom died and he saw his shadow and thought it was her so he started running to it and it kept getting smaller?
Lisa:Yes.
Matt:  “Who the hell wrote that? It’s some f*cked up sh*t.
Lisa:  “This is super random.”
Matt:  “What? I was just trying to make conversation.”

photo 2 (16)Non Judgmental

Matt:  “I’m telling you. That woman is awful. Exhibit B…For bitch.

Motivated Guy

Matt:  “I’m sleepy.
Lisa:  “You were in bed 3 hours ago.”
Matt:  “I know. I miss it.

Easily Impressed

Lisa:  “I just typed all of that on my phone without looking and there was no errors.
Matt:  “Yeah. You do that when you’re typing on the computer too. I think you think it impresses me.

photo (14)World History Expert

Matt:  “When The Italians invented pizza it was pepperoni.”
Lisa:  “You don’t know if that’s true.
Matt:  “You don’t know it’s not true.

Delightful Company

Lisa:  “You know, you’re no picnic yourself.”
Matt:  “I’m a picnic. I’m a picnic in goddamned Central Park.

Fashion Expert

Matt:  “Look at that guy’s hair. He looks like he stepped out of the 80sDo people even do their hair like that? Do hair stylists even do that to people?

photo 4 (1)Wordsmith

Matt:Where’s all this sass coming from? I didn’t know it was Sass-ur-day.

Patriotic

Matt:  “…Because we live in STL. Americas asshole.

Humble Man

Matt:  <cleaning glasses>
Lisa:  “Are those your regular glasses or your Warby Parker’s?”
Matt:  “Warby Parkers. ………I know.
Lisa:  “You know what?
Matt:  “I just thought you were going to say I looked good in them.

Christmas EveLightly Scented

Lisa:  “Wow. That’s a lot of cologne you just sprayed. Trying to impress someone?
Matt:  “No. I’m just not sure how dirty this shirt is.”

Sympathetic Citizen

Lisa:  “They still haven’t found those two guys who escaped from prison.”
Matt:  “I still haven’t found my glasses…I get it.

Fixer Of Things

Matt:  “The hose is flowing fine now….like my rhymes!”

Did you like this edition? Did it give you your Matt Newlin fix?  Which one was your favorite?

FAT TUESDAY

****This post was originally published a few years ago but it’s so perfect and fitting for Fat Tuesday, so give it another go.****

I’m pretty sure I didn’t have to write a blog post about how I love Fat Tuesday, as it’s pretty much a no-brainer. Any holiday with the word “fat” right in the title is obviously going to be observed by this girl. It’s pretty much a celebration of me and my fellow chub club peeps, and what we stand for…which is butter on everything and a side of Ranch dressing.

OMG! I just made up that chub club thing just now and it’s completely brilliant! I’m going to run with it. Okay, I won’t really physically run with it.  I will walk slowly with it or take a cab.  I think I’m going to start a Chub Club for real.

I will be the “Big Cheese” in charge of the outfit, and the members will be named after different variations of my favorite dairy products. This is genius! I predict t-shirts will be made soon with the smallest size being an XL (for the tiny people in the group). This is gold!

Sorry about hijacking my MjAxMi1hOWJkZTkyMDhjOGI2YmM4own post there, but when amazing ideas come to me, which is pretty much every hour, I need to write them down so I don’t forget them.

I’ve got so many irons in the fire right now that it’s hard to keep them all straight.  And by “irons in the fire” I mean “items in the microwave.”

Anyway, I feel like this post is a pretty obvious one and probably doesn’t need to be written, but then again, I thought Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes had a love to last a lifetime, and look how that turned out.

You guys need guidance, and fortunately I’m here to serve.  However, I’m not here to serve you food; only wisdom. Scoop your own gravy, free loaders.

Perhaps the best part about Fat Tuesday is that it’s an actual holiday encouraging indulgence and gluttony.  Any other day of the year, society quietly judges you for overindulging.

Except in my case, society takes the form of my great aunt who doesn’t judge me quietly, but does so quite loudly from the seat next to me at dinner. “Wow, Lisa, you sure can eat an entire ham. Maybe you should grab some broccoli to round out your meal.”

charlie-sheen-fat-tuesday-mardi-gras-ecards-someecardsUm, maybe you should pick your teeth up off the table and shut up.

What other day of the year encourages engaging in a full day of complete gluttony? Thanksgiving is usually restricted to one meal of gorging, and the focus of the holiday isn’t simply stuffing one’s face with carbs (there’s desserts too!).

Apparently we are also supposed to remember the Indians on that day and how we killed them all with cholera blankets and STDs.  Not the happiest of holidays, although pie definitely makes it better. (Pie makes everything better. I think I should make that into a bumper sticker. It could be the slogan for my Chub Club.  I’M ON A ROLL TONIGHT!)

Unlike the short lived Thanksgiving with one big meal, Fat Tuesday encourages gluttony all day long! It’s the perfect day and it should be a national holiday. How can I be expected to work when I have a full cookie cake to eat? And that plate of nachos isn’t going to eat itself.

I can’t be expected to go to work on a day when the world is my oyster of food, and the oyster is on a cracker with Tabasco sauce.  Does my boss not want me to properly honor the holiday?  To basically flip off Fat Tuesday and all that it represents?  Apparently so.  My boss is obviously unpatriotic.

Fat Tuesday is also a great holiday because it actually celebrates being fat! All year long I’m made to feel embarrassed by my love handles and meaty thighs.

fat-tuesday-16

(I don’t feel bad about them, but it’s not for a lack of society’s attempts. They are relentless!)  But just this one day a year, society embraces fatness, one love handle at a time.

Wait, my husband just told me that Fat Tuesday isn’t a celebration of fat people at all. Apparently, he seems to think its a last hurrah of sorts before Lent starts and people give up stuff.  What does he know?  He’s skinny and clearly wants to bring me down on the best holiday of the year.

And if he doesn’t watch himself, he’s going to learn about giving up stuff…in this case, it will be the comfort of our memory foam mattress, as we don’t have one of those in the guest bedroom.

I’m not letting my husband’s nay saying bring me down on the best day of the year. I will relegate him to the guest bedroom so he can think about what he’s done, and so I can enjoy my last stash of Twinkies in peace without judgment. I will also be launching a Chub Club, as this is clearly one of my better ideas. It’s right up there with the Snuggie dress, which is a genius idea if I could just get some funding.

So enjoy Fat Tuesday, my friends. Celebrate your inner and outer fat kid, and if you come across nay sayers like my husband, feel free to throw a pie in their face and tell them they need to get in the holiday spirit.  But don’t waste a good pie.   That would be a tragedy.

The day has come for all you football fans out there.  It’s the culmination of a full season of cussing at the TV, yelling at the refs who clearly got it wrong, and cursing Bill Belichick because he can’t be bothered to wear a sweatshirt the way it was intended…with sleeves.

That last part may just be me, but seriously with that guy?  Would it kill him to not look like a slob for ONE game?  But then again, when he’s regularly on camera with such a beautiful specimen as Tom Brady, he is always going to look like a slob in comparison.  He probably figures he should not even try and just be comfortable.

Okay guys, stop googling images of a topless Tom Brady and focus on this amazing blog post.  Do I need to keep you here with eye candy?  I’m not above it.  <———There. Happy now?

Let’s get back on track, people!  After a season of hard work, two football teams will face off today in the Super Bowl.  It’s the biggest game of the year for those two teams.  It’s the….well….it’s the Super Bowl of…..well…Super Bowls.

Today is Super Bowl Sunday.  Even if you don’t care about football, today is the one day of the year where you pretend to care just so you attend a Super Bowl party.

Every year, I can’t help but laugh at the whole notion of Super Bowl parties.  On any given Sunday during football season, you can find a football lover laying on the couch watching the games, dozing in and out of consciousness.  Sunday football viewing is basically a full day of intermittent napping and football fans can’t be bothered to do anything with others as long as there are games on.

During the season, Sundays transform into a day of solitude for football lovers.

MANHATTANDon’t even think of talking to them during the game, as viewing the sport takes significant concentration.  In my experience, I find such concentration is most often achieved with closed eyes and snoring.

However, once we get to the biggest game of the year, all of a sudden everyone wants to celebrate with a party.  I truly believe the reason these parties happen is because football lovers know if they didn’t have people over, they would sleep through the big game too.  They need parties to keep them awake for the full event.

Fortunately, I’m a giving and caring person who wants to make dreams come true, so I’m happy to attend Super Bowl parties.  However, I take them quite seriously.  If I’m going to go, I want to make sure I’m prepared ahead of time.  I need to engage in a serious fact-gathering expedition before I make my final decision regarding what to root for.

This investigation usually starts days in advance.  I begin researching information about which teams and cities are in the final game and what colors they wear.  (I need to plan my outfit.)

But most importantly, I want to know the spread for the game.  Will there be nachos and dip, or chili and sandwiches?  Cookies and ice cream, or brownies and pies?

Wait…you didn’t think when I said I wanted to prepare myself for the big day that I was talking about educating myself on the teams, did you?  I simply need to know which city each team comes from to know if I will be walking into a theme-based party with food indicative of the teams.  (Clam chowder for New England or crab cakes for Seattle.)  And when I said I needed to plan my outfit, I meant I needed to locate pants with elastic.

You didn’t think when I referred to “the spread” that I was actually referring to gambling on the game, did you?  Do you read this blog at all?!  The only gambling I will be doing today is eating buffalo chicken dip without the benefit of a gallbladder.

I suspect the loser will be my friends’ bathroom.  (FYI…you know who you are and I would recommend stocking up on air freshener.)

To me, Super Bowl Sunday is an excuse to get together with friends and stuff my face with as many foods as possible.  It’s one of the biggest eating days of the year and I need to prepare myself, both mentally and physically.  I suggest you do the same.

As for the winners of this year’s Super Bowl, it’s too early to tell.  But I’ve got my money on the buffalo chicken dip.

Dear Chin Hair,Dear Chin Hair,

Where the hell did you come from?  I certainly didn’t invite you, nor did I tell you to take up residence on my chin.

Granted, I’ve noticed you other random places, but figured you were a one-time visitor and wouldn’t return because the accommodations are poor and the Yelp! reviews are less than glowing.

But now you’ve decided to visit my face?  Not cool.  Not cool at all.

At first I thought it was a mistake; a result of poor lighting in my Volkswagen, Dieter.  I noticed you in the rearview mirror and suspected you were just a scratch on the mirror.  But no.  If only…

I’ve only recently tried to evict you, but you’ve proven a formidable opponent.  You’re strong and stubborn and coarse and much firmer than I would have expected.

Forgive me for being so stern. I realize you’d like a nice place to call home, but that home can’t be my chin.  It just can’t.

Yes. I realize you’re threatening to migrate other places if I evict you, but I won’t be bullied.  You won’t be allowed to stay.  Not at all.  “Not by the hair on my chinny chin chin.”

And yes, I see both the humor and the irony in that statement.

You have to go because no matter what, you’re going to set up shop somewhere else on my face.  You’re quite popular and your friends will want to party at your place…which will be on my face. They’ll leave some of their friends behind who will join you at your permanent residence and will continue to be the obnoxious neighbor who pops up at inopportune times…like at a client dinner.

Not on my watch. Or as it stands, not on my chin.

Where did you even come from? You’re a stealthy one. Sneaking up on me one day only to discover you’d already moved in and furnished the place is not the most pleasant way to introduce yourself.

Perhaps moving in gradually would have helped our relationship.  Of course, had you slowly moved in I probably would have caught you sooner and evicted you, so perhaps this strategy was best for you.

Either way, I need you to go. I don’t care where you go but you can’t stay here…or anywhere on my face or neck. I’ve got enough of your friends to deal with there.

So goodbye chin hair. I won’t miss you and I’m not sorry to see you go. Please go bother some other woman; preferably a cute one in her early 20s.

Love Lisa

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I’m on the web other places this week

I Love My Hairy Children

I Broke Up With My Best Friend (And Maybe You Should Too)

What they should really teach atEvery fall, millions of high school graduates pack up their things and head off to college to increase their knowledge and decrease their bank accounts. It’s an exciting time but a scary one too. There are so many unanswered questions college newbies have, but most of them are too scared to ask.

Most schools require some form of orientation for the new students, although those are about as useless as the salad bar in the cafeteria. I know when I went to college I didn’t know who to turn to for answers.

Unfortunately, I had to learn many of these things the hard way. But in an effort to save other college students from making the same mistakes I did, I’m offering tips for what they didn’t teach you in college orientation, but should have.

  • Never ask “What’s that smell?”  You don’t want to know the answer. Ever.
  • Beer bottles will clink together when you’re trying to sneak beer into the dorm in your backpack. Get cans instead.
  • You will never fit all of your clothes in the dorm room’s closet. Buy some storage bins.
  • Someone will steal your shampoo at least once. It will happen.
  • You will learn to drink bottom-shelf liquor, but you will still hate it. You will also learn that it’s kept on the bottom shelf so it’s easier to grab when you’re laying on the floor “resting your eyes.”
  • You actually have to read the assigned reading. It’s totally a bummer.
  • There’s a difference between cheap and expensive toilet paper and it isn’t just price.
  • Your professor can still see you sleeping even though you’re in the back row.
  • There are some really weird people in the world. One of them will probably be your roommate.
  • Foot fungus. It’s a thing. Wear sandals.
  • That sound you hear through the wall? That’s snoring. You’ll hear that for the next four years.
  • Don’t be a hero and schedule an 8:00 a.m. class. Anything before 10:00 is going to be skipped regularly.
  • The washing machine costs more than just a quarter to run. You might have to get a job just to be able to wash your delicates.

Facts they didn't teach you at college orientation

  • The food in the dorms is all-you-can eat. That’s not  a challenge. Leave while you’re ahead, and while your pants still fit.
  • Make sure you have an internet connection before you move in. Being disconnected is not an option.
  • Spend a little extra time with your parents before saying goodbye. There’s probably an extra $20 in it for you.
  • You can buy nearly anything at the school bookstore, and it only shows up as “bookstore charge” on your school account. Skittles for everybody!
  • You can sell your books back at the end of the semester and get cash back. You can also neglect to tell your parents this important fact.
  • Your dorm room will always be either too hot or too cold, and there’s nothing you can do about it.
  • Your friends won’t go out to the bars until most people are in bed. Take a nap and set your alarm for 9:00 p.m.
  • Some organization somewhere on campus is giving out pizza at any given time.
  • Your rain boots might be cute but they don’t do crap to keep your feet dry.
  • If you find a parking spot close to your dorm, take it.  And then never leave again.
  • It’s perfectly acceptable to raid your roommate’s care package from home before he gets back from class. Those homemade cookies will go to waste otherwise.
  • Opening five different credit cards just to get the free gifts is never a good idea.

Opening 5 different credit cards just to

  • No matter which dorm you get, you’ll wish you were in a different one.
  • No one understands economics. Just remember that supply and demand are related and you should be fine.
  • Night classes go on exponentially longer than regular classes.

Hopefully these tips are useful to college freshmen everywhere.  And hey, if any of you are still reading this, can you grab me some Skittles from the bookstore?

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Other places you can find me on the internet this week

I Sleep With Teenage Boys

Goodbye Summer

pantry say about youMatt and I recently visited my parents for the weekend. Their house is always stocked with food, so the first morning I was there I trodded into the kitchen and quietly opened the pantry door.  I wanted to scour for food but also wanted to retrieve the no bake cookies I hid there yesterday.  (They were delicious.)

I stood there munching on my hidden gems, hiding from everyone else, and couldn’t help but look around at what was on the shelves.  I was pretty shocked at what I found.  Here’s a breakdown.

And please note, these are ALL photos from their pantry.  Every.  Last.  Strange.  One.

1.  Three shelves of liquor

Okay, they weren’t full shelves of liquor, but there were three partial shelves of alcohol goodness.  How many shelves were taken up by cereal and fiber items?   One.  However, I don’t think this is a bad thing. It just demonstrates my parents are always ready to entertain and are great party hosts.

This was perfectly acceptable.

2.  Six flasks

This was a bit more concerning, as they are the only two people who reside in their home.  This large quantity of flasks is a bit more difficult to explain, unless they host parties where they encourage guests to hide their drinks. Maybe they are speakeasy themed parties.

That has to be the reason. It’s the only logical explanation.

Were they really using the flasks to sneak liquor into places?  Maybe, but then again, how many times do you need to smuggle in enough liquor for 3 times the number the amount a normal person would need?

Soooo many places are buzz kills and don’t allow you to bring in liquor, so you have to hide it like teenagers going to prom. And maybe my parents wouldn’t have to smuggle in liquor if the establishments would sell enough for either one or two times your body weight.

Maybe I could get on board with this finding.

3.  One large Ziploc bag of mini bottles of liquor

I suppose this is a backup in case the six flasks of liquor are discovered in a strip search while going to the local cinema. I suppose it’s good to have an alternate plan.

I can say one thing about these people… they’re prepared.  (And may also need to be placed on a liver transplant list more as a precautionary measure.)

4.  Two fans

Fans in the kitchen closet is not what I expected to see. Normally fans are stored in a basement or hall closet.  Not at the casa de mi parents. Those fans are stored in the kitchen cupboard.

Sadly, this makes sense to me.  If they are consuming three shelves of liquor, they’re probably hot.  They need a fan and can’t be expected to share, so a fan for each of them makes sense.

And why would they keep the fans in the basement? That would be too much work to go to the basement after kicking back some cocktails. It’s just asking for an injury. Come on. They’re my parents so you have to assume they’re at least a little accident prone.

This is exactly why the fans are stored with the liquor. I’m actually kind of disturbed that I’m so easily able to follow their logic.

5.  Ten boxes of Jell-0 mix

jello

This isn’t as strange as the other items at first glance but I looked closer. What I noticed were the flavors. Notice anything? That’s right. THEY’RE ALL LIQUOR FLAVORS! There’s margarita, daiquiri and pina colada Jell-o all right there next to the Progresso.

I didn’t know they even made these flavors of Jell-o, but why do my parents have these flavors, and why is there no pudding? Didn’t they know the Jell-o brand also made pudding?

I felt I owed it to my parents to ask about the flavors (and also to see if they had pudding). I assure you that my mom responded with the following after being asked why she had alcohol flavored Jell-o.

Because everyone loves Jell-o shots.”

She said it as if I was a complete moron for asking such a ridiculous question.  As if I was the one with a cabinet full of fans and liquor.  And yet, she had a point.  Who doesn’t love a Jell-o shot?  No one.  That’s who.

Maybe my parents are on to something.

6.  Six containers of peanut butter

JifBefore I go any further, allow me to assure you this peanut butter was in no way laced with liquor.  I checked.

Once again I had to question my mom on the need for such a large quantity of peanut butter and the varying brands.  I could tell she wa growing tired of my questions, but she responded that the generic peanut butter was “for the birds.”

I had to clarify if she meant the peanut butter tasted bad, or if it was  literally “for the birds.”  Apparently the answer was both.  It tasted bad and my mom “wasn’t going to give the birds the name-brand peanut butter.”  (Another direct quote.)

This was said as one of her dogs walked by in a hand-stitched doggie sweater.  I.  Sh*t.  You.  Not.

So in actuality, the two generic peanut butter containers were for the birds, and the two large Jif containers were for them.  The small snack size peanut butter containers were for when a small snack was needed.  I suspect it’s because a bag of almonds couldn’t fit in one’s purse when it was filled with flasks and Jell-o shots.

At this point, I stopped looking at items in the pantry.  It wasn’t so much because there weren’t other strange things on the shelves, but more because I was out of cookies and wanted to find some pudding.

 

-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.  

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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http://www.inthepowderroom.com/read/me-time/2013-08-facebook-is-better-than-class-reunions.html

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113It’s summer time, which means it’s time to hit the pool instead of hitting the gym.

Yeah right, like I hit the gym the rest of the year.

If did, I probably would enjoy the pool a bit more.  Hence, my theory for how to survive the swimsuit season.  Read about it here.  It’s an awesome idea.  (Duh).

So now that you’re equipped to go to the pool and not feel bad about how you look in a swimming suit (because you read my post), you need a few more staples.

Not stomach staples.  You look great the way you are.  Didn’t you read my swimsuit theory?

Read about the five things you need to take to the pool here.  Yes, I’m making you go to another site.  Deal with it.

You know you’d click just about anywhere to learn about what to take to the pool.  So one more click!

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http://www.inthepowderroom.com/read/me-time/2013-06-a-summer-survival-kit-for-the-pool.html

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(RECIPE AT THE BOTTOM OF OF THIS POST)

Back CameraThis Memorial Day, my friend St. Frick (not his real name), invited us to his house for a pool party.  St. Frick is known for his ability to throw amazing parties (and his ability to shove five profane words into a sentence comprised of only three words.  It’s a talent).

We knew we would be in for a good time and we knew the only logical answer was to tell him we would be there.

We arrived at his place and discovered he and some other friends were already in the pool.  Judging by the various beer cans strewn about, they also appeared to have started the party without us (although I still contend a party doesn’t start until I arrive).

I immediately headed to the pool house to grab some libations and catch up with our friends.  I opened the refrigerator and this is what I saw:

At first I thought they were sliced lemons, which would go nicely with my Grey Goose, but upon closer inspection I realized they weren’t lemons, but Jello shots in a lemon rind.

Is that what it’s called?  A rind?

I was beside myself with joy.

Back CameraI decided to try one of them immediately.  After all, I didn’t want to be rude.  I was his guest and I was raiding his fridge to see what free stuff I could find.

What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t do a Jello shot (or three)?

They were delicious.  I decided to have a few more and bring them poolside for others to enjoy.  They were refreshing and alcohol laden, which are two of my favorite things.

I grabbed a couple more and sat on the edge of the pool.  It was like I was being healthy and eating fruit by the pool…if fruit was made of three parts gelatin and two parts vodka.  (If it was, I would eat a lot more fruit).

What kind of person comes up with this idea?  Obviously an awesome person.  I just didn’t know who would be brilliant enough to come up with this recipe.

Normally, if I’m motivated enough to make Jello, it’s done in a dirty bowl with cracks at the bottom courtesy of the time one of my dogs used it as a chew toy.

Don’t judge.  The bowl still works…just think twice about eating Jello when you come to my house…and watch for dog hair.

Back CameraDo you see these amazing Jello shots?  Look how perfectly sliced they are!

Upon closer inspection, I was amazed to discover there were no slices of skin on them, nor were there bloody lemon peels (or rinds.  Are we calling them rinds?).

Maybe it’s just me, but I’m pretty sure I would slice a finger straight off if I was going to slice up these lemon Jello shots.

Naturally, it would be my husband’s finger I sliced, and not mine.  After all, he would be the one holding the lemons while I sliced them.

After several Jello shots, a girl can’t be expected to hold the lemons steady.

Oh yeah, I may have forgotten to mention that when I make Jello shots I’m usually wasted on several of the shots by the time we get to the slicing portion of the recipe.

But everyone is like that, right?

recycleAs if these delicious gems of goodness weren’t already perfect, I realized there was another plus to them.  They are environmentally friendly!

You know my love of animals and of this beautiful planet (which is made even more beautiful by the presence of Jake Gyllenhaal and Andrew Garfield).

So with this recipe I can load up on liquor without feeling guilty about the environment.

I don’t need to be worried about filling the landfill with little Jello shots cups (mostly because when I eat these I will be too blitzed to think straight).

Actually,I’m probably helping the environment by doing Jello shots this way.  I am using biodegradable material for good use, while also supporting recycling.

I’m so considerate.

This is yet another way to give back to Mother Earth while drinking to excess.  Who knew being an environmentalist would be so fun?

The best lemon jello shotsDoes this mean I can stop shaving my arm pits?

Another bonus to these shots is that neighbors going through my trash (or just looking out their window to see me sprawled out on the lawn), won’t judge me for the large amount of plastic containers strewn about me and my body.

Rather, they will assume my drinking caught up with me and my liver finally gave out.  This makes for a peaceful afternoon nap on the front lawn…the perfect way to spend a Saturday.

What’s that you say?  Your neighbors don’t go through your trash?  Sure.

Whatever.  Keep telling yourself that, but do yourself a favor and go outside some night and see if your Us Weekly magazines are still in your trash can.

My guess is they’re not, as the nosy neighbor down the street wants to keep up with the Kardashians but can’t afford a magazine subscription (or cable…or the internet….those fricking Kardashians are everywhere).

So since I’m totally awesome and you guys are just dying to know how these Jello shots are made, I will tell you.  It’s actually fairly easy.  Here it goes:

RECIPE

1.  Cut several lemons in half. (You can also uses oranges, limes or watermelons)
2.  Scoop out the insides of each half lemon so it’s hollow.  (I suggest dumping the insides of the lemon into a large container of Grey Goose and water.)
3.  Make Jello as per the instructions.  (If you are making this for a party that I will be attending, please multiply the alcohol content by two.  Who am I kidding?  Multiply it by three.)
4.  Pour the liquid Jello into the halves, making sure not to overfill them.
5.  Place the lemon halves in muffin pans to hold them upright.
6.  Place the lemon halves in the refrigerator and allow the Jello to set.
7.  Once the Jello is done,  remove the lemon halves and slice the halves into smaller pieces.

Yes, it’s that easy.  I know.  Can you believe it?

And if you make this recipe, I will require you to bring over the equivalent of three whole lemons of Jello shots.

You didn’t think you were going to get this recipe entirely for free, did you?