I had a major mishap this weekend while working on my flea market flip project – the music-themed end table. Despite everyone trying to urge me not to glue the metal music box disk to the top of the table, I decided that it would be safer secured. Because the wood is so thin, screwing it down was not an option. On to Plan B.
My first thought was to just hot glue around the edges. I should have stuck to that plan, but that’s when I caught sight of an unopened bottle of Gorilla Glue sitting in the drawer. It was whispering, “Open me and I shall pay you handsomely.” Who in the hell listens to a glue bottle? Yes, moi. The damn primate on the front got to me. Read more
Caden officially outgrew watching cartoons about a year ago. Aless, on the other hand, has just reached the age of being totally intrigued by dancing sponges and doodling dogs. What does that mean for mom? Well, whether I like it or not, I’m subjected to watching hours of nausea inducing animated characters doing things that would cause us real people to get arrested. As you can tell, I’m not a big cartoon fan. Never have been. But I do behave as my daughter enjoys the colorful escapades unfolding before her tiny, impressionable eyes. Inside, however, is a whole different story. Inside, I’m flipping off Johnny Test and trying to figure out how to pronounce “Lalaloopsy”. La-la-loop-say. Lala-loop-see. I know. I’m going to hell.
Here’s what I’m really thinking while watching kids’ cartoons: Read more
Ever had one of those moments when you look at something and think, “That can’t be right.” So you scratch your eyes, look away for a minute and expect to see something else when you look back. Well, that happened to me on Sunday – at Walmart, of all places. Home of the Crazed and Medicated, which I needed to be after seeing “this.” I didn’t have my phone on me or I would have snapped a picture. Five hundred pictures. Forget pictures. I would have taken a video for the world to see what I endure every damn time I enter that place. Read more
Sometimes I wish I could dissect my brain and find out why it does the things it does. Like the OCD isn’t enough, it’s now thrown me another curve ball; an unexplainable one that I’m hoping a few of you out there might be able to relate to and say, “Okay, this is why this is happening.” If not, I’m going to have to sell the plot to a reality TV show and I’m not fond of that route. Exploitation for dollars! Read more
Some of the weirdest conversations we have around here happen before the rooster crows. Maybe it’s the way our brains wake up. Or maybe we’re not really awake.
ME: Why do alligators have such a powerful bite? That seems unfair to the rest of the animal kingdom.
PONTILICIOUS: What? It’s 5:30 in the morning. I can’t answer something like that right now.
ME: No wonder they have been around since prehistoric times. They can eat a dump truck. And why do think dinosaurs existed? Read more
This isn’t a happy post. This is a “you can bite my butt cheeks and like it” post written specifically for the people who have called me a “jerk” in the last few weeks. Oh, yes, yours truly has been called a J-E-R-K at least three times that I can remember and once by my dog. Well, with the dog it was more of a “You’re a real jerk” look than her actually speaking and saying, “You’re a real jerk.” It happened when I didn’t open the sliding door wide enough for her to shimmy outside and her ass got stuck. It’s not my fault she’s built more like Nicki Minaj than Gwyneth Paltrow. It was cold out! I was trying not to freeze my own ass off while hers was officially getting hung up. But anywho. This isn’t a happy post. Read more