Dear Ethan;

Oh sweetie, If I knew how hard your daddy was gonna spank you, Or how long your Momma was gonna yell, I swear, I SWEAR, I would never have made you tell them what happened. I'm so sorry little man.

Sure, smashing your bike into Blue Boy's bike, while he was on it, and trashing his training wheels 'cus "training wheels are for babies" was mean, but you're just a little boy!

When you saw the plastic bits littering the road, you said sorry right away. You hugged Blue Boy when he cried. I thought you were going to cry too. You might think you are a big guy, but you are only five, just a few months older than Blue Boy is.

No child - fuck that - no person deserves to be talked to like that! And there is never anything a child can do that deserves a spanking like the one you got.

If I knew you were going to get into that much trouble, I would have looked the other way.

I'm so SO Sorry.

Come by tomorrow and I will give you a Popsicle;


Your Very Mean Neighbour Lady Who Couldn't Take Five Seconds To Think Before She Acted.

Pee Ess: Ethan, If I EVER hear your daddy hit you like that again, I will call the cops on his ass so fast his head will spin! This is a promise I make to you.

***
Edit:

Family Draaaaama Update: My brother just got arrested. Now the shit be hittin' the fan peoples!

Labels: I'm Important Too

It's so hard to do anything when there is fahmahlee Dramaaaaa happening isn't it?

I so totally logged on to write a brilliant piece of bloggetry, something that would leave you gasping in awe and maybe even shedding a few tears. But then my phone rang.

Le Sigh.

There isn't much I can do when the family draaaaama is happening hundreds of billions of miles away, now is there? Yea pfft. Where are my cheesy poofs?

fack it anyway.

So my latest doctors appointment to address the OMG I'm dizzy 24/7 - stupid facking headache leave me in peace- hey why did my leg just fall asleep - woah pretty stars - faint - issues; is June 14Th. That's a long fucking wait.

Le sigh squared.

It's seriously hard to type when the freaking monitor keeps going in and out of focus don't ya know.

So uhm. We cleaned the basement and only found one spider. That's pretty good. OH! And I am all out of fudgesicles, which is good, as I am pretty sure there isn't a diet out there that includes them ... (if you happen to know of one, send it to me ASAP)

Why is my left ear ringing but my right one isn't?

Fuck this. It's too hard to keep the screen in focus AND myself on the stool to keep typing. But hey, gimme props for tryin' which is more than I did last night!

Labels: I'm Important Too

I love being first. First Rules!!
What do you like to be first in...

RoxDar

If I had the chance to pick something that I would always, not matter what, be first for, I would pick first in line for the toilet.

Case in point:

What a way to spend a Saturday afternoon. It's way too hot, it's crowded, and what on earth is that smell? The carnival was in town and I was waiting, non to patiently, to use one of the six million port-a-potties.

A strange man in front of me turned. He was covered in hair. It was disgusting. Like a black angora sweater - the only reason I knew it was not a sweater, is that no one is dumb enough to wear a sweater in this heat! Plus, the bacon cheese burger tangled up in the vicinity of where I assume his right nipple would be, was a dead give away!

Big foot was my best friend you know. The abominable snowman ate him for lunch one day. That sucked. Said the freakishly hairy man.

Huh? Maybe the heat was getting to him...

Oh hi. My name is Bill. Are you waiting for the fat woman to sing too?

What next I thought, now on top of everything else I have this crazy guy bugging me. Gimme a fricken break!

I think your cheese is rotten, he said.

In my most authoritative tone, I replied; Look mister, I don't have any cheese, I don't know you, I don't want to know you and I really wish you'd leave me alone! I'm hot, I'm tired, and I don't need this!

There. That should stop him!

Woah! Take an ice cube lady! I'm just trying to make conversation!

FUCK!

And what exactly would you have me do with this ice cube? Shove it up your fat, hairy ass?

OK, OK, it's time to calm down, soothed Bill, you know, there are doctors who treat this kind of thing. The could prescribe something for that there temper of yours. You should seek help as soon as possible, because I really hate elephants!

ME! I screamed I should seek help? You're the one talking about big feet and melting snowmen and invisible fucking cheese!!

What.the.hell? He stuttered; I'm not the one who started talking about flat-footed ballet dancers and blow-up dolls, am I? Nope. I'm afraid, little missy, YOU are the crazy one here! So whats your name?

Huh? Maybe the heat was getting to me...

What part of 'whats your name didn't you understand?'

Why on earth should I talk to you, much less tell you my name? For All I know you're a serial killer who walks around asking people their name before chopping them to bits with a rusty butchers knife because the look like your dead dog FouFou!

So what if I peed my pants on the way home? At least I got away from the bacon cheese burger freaktard!

Pee Ess: Go back and read the disclaimer

Labels: Blogger Buddies, I'm Important Too

By these guys. Cus I asked them too, that's why! I got a *meh* and because thats on the list of top ten words I find amusing, right below vajayjay and right above cocksucker, I'm *meh* about the reveiw. Read it if you want, here is the link!

Pee Ess: Breaking story: Eye kant Spel...

Labels: Go Read My Real Post, Slacker

Yesterday I asked for blog post ideas and y'all came through with a blast! That's a lot to choose from people!

(START - 10:59 pm my time. I deliberately did not check comments until just before opening this window - sorry for not responding!)

I was tempted to start with the easy ones and get them out of the way but that would leave me with all the hard ones at the end So I asked Jittery Joe to pick a number. He picked seven which is:

Sheila said...

Why is the cat in the dish washer again?
I love to eat turnips, but you know what they do to me...
Don't you pick your nose to scratch your ears, too?
I have never seen a bug come out of there before!

7:33 AM, April 26, 2007

Trust my pal Sheila to have multiple strings going at the same time! Here we go! I shouldn't have to point out that the following story is not true! Any similarities to real bloggers is coincidental and not intended by the author. *muah!*

(All linkage is just to prove I know how to link. It doesn't mena a damn thing. Stop looking at me liek that!)



EXCITEMENT! Finally I was going to meet some bloggers! I'm kind of nervous. I mean really. they could all be serial puppy killers, what do I know of them but from their daily addiction to the web?

I dressed with care - Fine, Fuck you, With comfort in mind. What If I had to run to escape the weird ass bloggers? I didn't want to be tugging my thong and cursing high heels!

We were to meet at a coffee shop. This was my idea and a great one indeed! Cus, hello? Coffee! World peace could be achieved with coffee! (I would have also accepted chocolate or strawberry bubble bath)

The place was busy. Would I know them when I see them? Would they know me? Should I have sent out a more recent photo. Or waited to dye my hair neon pink? Which totally rocks by the way. I'm thinking of getting the ends dipped in electric blue, whattaya think?



OH! I think that's them! ohmigawd! Its Mr.Baf! Wow. His..personality.. is much bigger in real life!

Turns out no puppies were killed at all during our visit. Sigh. I was really hoping for a new fur cuff. Whatever. Did you know that when Mr.Baf eats turnips his face gets really really red? I was a bit nervous when steam started coming out of his ears, but after he manually adjusted the crank in his pants, and the steam dissipated, all was well.

I told him he should get it checked by a reputable doctor, but he told me that his butt is still beeping on the hour, and for three minutes every morning at seven, from his last doctors exam. I understand his hesitation to go back!

Only one of the bloggers was late meeting us, but it was hilarious. I should have brought my camera! She completely covered in soap and cat hair. She tired to tell us her granddaughter Elleb had put the cat in the dishwasher, but knowing her as I do from her blog, it was quite easy to read between the lines and understand that the cat, her, and large kumquat had been engaged in some pretty kinky activities and she lost track of time.

It's too bad she didn't think to invite me, I have a box full of over ripe kiwi in the back of my car. Sure the seeds are a bitch to get out of tight places, but they are so fun to squeeze!

My friend Aliehs came too. Unlike Illehs, she wasn't preoccupied with cat tails and was on time. She brought her hottie boyfriend too! That was a bonus because we didn't know he was coming. It was a bit weird meeting Mot. He is in a wheelchair, - that's not weird, my sister is in one too, but she has lots of XXX bumper stickers on hers - Mot kept picking Aliehs' nose and then stuffing the boogers in his ear. He would just reach across, shove his finger in, root around and pull out. It was like Aliehs didn't even notice. I'm not sure she will be invited to another blogger meet, even if her BF is hawt!

I know for a fact all those bastards bloggers will be typing at the speed of light to tell all thier minions what happened to me, so I want to get my version (the truth) out!

The worst moment came just half hour into our meet. I was on my sixteenth cup of coffee, - everyone else was still adding their various creams and sugars, - and just as I leaned over to grab my purse out from under my chair - I had the cutest pictures of my brats having a "cock" fight between the snakes and our cat - Oh god, this is hard.

As I leaned forward, in complete view of everyone there, a bug crawled out from under the edge of my skirt. At first I figured I could just swat it and everyone would think it was just some random bug.

That idea was squashed when it crawled onto the table carrying my tampon. Mr. Baf fainted - after wetting himself - and Aliehs screamed and said "I have never seen a bug come out of there before!" while standing on her chair. Illehs just kept picking the cat hair out of her teeth. It was horrible.

I told them that I was getting some work done,. The bugs were the construction crew just getting the site ready for the interior decorator I was meeting later that day.

I don't think they believed me...

(END - 11:30PM my time)

(I will not be prefacing my future blogger ideas with a disclaimer, simply their comment quote and a link - the disclaimer still applies)

Labels: Blogger Buddies, I'm Important Too

I had something; Nothing specific mind you, to post about today. But then I lost it somewhere between cleaning out the garage (while The Husband Played PlayStation) going to the park (where the kids buried me) and watching a movie cuddled under a warm blanket (while the cat sat purring - which means shedding- so I can't stop sneezing and I am about to cut my fucking nose off).

So I have nothing to say today.

One that note. Inspiration comes from all different things. Take this comment from my dear friend Shelli for example :

I have never known men who do the coin jiggling thing. You can make up a story on a whim, can't you. You should let people give you a topic or a line and then you take it and make it into a story.

What a great idea! Feel free to leave me a word or phrase or idea in the comments and I will work it over..somehow! Plus! Easy! Post! Ideas! Yay!

*****I SHOULD WARN YOU*****

I once got bored and wrote the life cycle of sperm. It was absolutely all encompassing. their monetary/banking systems, governments, health care, schooling, social hierarchy, EVERYTHING. Including original drawings of wee little sperms waiting in line at the bank and my favorite, riding the Farris wheel.

Labels: I'm Important Too

I honestly think men should not be allowed to speak without the presence of a lawyer.

We were sitting in Edmond the Tax Dudes' little waiting nook when Jittery Joe stuck his hand in his pocket. I knew what was coming. I think this is something all men do when they are bored. It still doesn't make it right.

Coin Jingling. I hate it. You hate it. We all scream for ice cream It should be outlawed. So should the incessant clicking of pens.

They give me the *shivers*

So, his hands shaking furiously up and down in his pocket, He says "I must have more then ten dollars in here. I wonder where it all comes from."

In a desperate attempt to stop The Husband from feeling up his coins in a public place, I said "Well dear. After hooking up at a local register, they head to the nearest, and seediest pockets they can find. There, two pennies will fall in love. The product of this union is called a nickle."

"And the dime?" He asks, eyebrow cocked, hand still pumping away in his pants. I went through the denominations of coin currency, one by one. The penny begot the nickle, the nickle begot the dime, the dime the quarter and so on. I was getting really into my explanations.

For example. Here in Canada we have various animals on our coins. On the nickle, we have the beaver. I explained how sometimes two women fall in love. How they bump beavers to have fun. And then, when they were sure they were in a committed relationship, they go to the piggy bank and are inseminated with coinage. Thus the nickle births the dime.

I am having moderate success with this distraction. His hand has slowed from a fast jerking motion to a slow, rolling motion in his jeans.

And then he has to ruin yet another perfectly good distraction conversation by bringing in Man Logic.

"Two pennies can't make a nickle. You have to start with the larger coins, because that's where the smaller ones come from. Five nickles to a quarter, twins for a dime. Like that. The way you are telling it, you end up with negative amounts. Then you have to deal with the ..." As his hand resumes its furious pace.

Le Sigh.

Labels: I'm Important Too

about this post.

My baby turned five today. Five. How? Where was I? What do you mean he isn't my Baby? He damn well is. And Dammit, If I want to mommy blog all fucking day long I will!

Five years ago I drove myself to the doctors office for my scheduled appointment. Blue Boy was one day overdue, and my contractions were eight minutes apart. My doctor told me to turn around and head for the hospital, but I told him I'd rather go to the mall instead.

So I did. FYI people. When you are panting and clutching your belly every four minutes, the people in the line in front will let you pass by. Just sayin'.

So after a few hours at the mall, I didn't stay too long because I still had plans on phoning The Husband at work to get him to take me out for coffee before we went in to whelp the kid.

To make a long story short - because this isn't about Blue Boy's birth, but his birthday - Jittery Joe was NOT at work when I called to beg him to take me to the epidural hospital.

He was at the hospital already - getting stitched up himself. By the time he made it home the only thing on my mind was my glorious, beautiful epidural. It was the one and only time I have ever refused a cup of coffee.

(Also. I did not get my epidural until I was nine centimeters. Yeah. I know. They don't give them after seven. Unless you are me. And very bitchy. And insistent. Oh and you threaten to walk out of the fucking hospital right now and have this goddamn baby in the parking lot if I don't get my goddamn epidural NOW)

(And also? 11.5 hours of labour - total- and three half hearted pushes. No swelling, tearing or any other sort of pain if you discount the massive hemorrhaging that started two hours after his birth)

Where was I going with this again? I don't remember either, except that even when Stuperman was minutes old, I still considered Blue Boy to be my baby.

It might have been the fact that I knew. I KNEW that our pediatrician was wrong about his diagnosis. I knew it with a hundred percent certainty. I knew Blue Boy should have been treated by nine months old. I knew KNEW. That's why I kept taking him in. But I still accepted her pithy words and did nothing.

In a moment of strength I called on a different doctor and Blue boy was in for the first of his surgeries (left orchiopexy and minor plastic surgery on his tongue) within a month. And now, at five years old. I hear him talk and I see his scars (He had a third operation last May - right orchiopexy) and think about how he will never get to be a daddy, and I am overcome with guilt.
And how in the hell do I face him in twenty more years when he tells me he and his wife are "trying"? How do I tell him it's MY fault??

I had every opportunity to fix this in time. Had I just stood up for my son when he was unable to stand up for himself, - my ONLY job as a parent ->keep your baby safe and healthy - and I failed it - he would have been fine. But I didn't and because of that, I hold him a wee bit closer, because..

He's my baby.

And he turned five at 7:30 tonight(04/23)

(And also. I am well aware that this post jumps around more then Fab on a monkey, but I had to write it quick! quick! quick! because BB's story still either pisses me off or makes me sob, so deal, mmk?)

Labels: I'm Important Too, Mommyblawgin

ehn.

I feel like I have been on the run all day long. And yet. If I stop and think about it, It's actually been a really good day.

Lets start with the kids. They got up..whenever, I don't know. I was still sleeping.

They ate breakfast without dumping the entire box of cheerios on the floor. I got up round eleven and The husband made me coffee. They played - without fighting - until cookie time, which in some homes is known as lunch time, and then I sent them to the Mother-In-Laws' so We could get our taxes done in the city.

What did I do while they played? I surfed blogs and managed to not comment on a single one. I have been very bad at commenting lately. Bad bloglines! Bad! Tomorrow I plan on commenting on every single blog in my bloglines. That's uhm. 93. and there are about ten in my bookmarks. Might just comment on them too. Never know.

Moving on to tax time. We got to to the city early. If you take into account the fact that Edmond the Tax Dude was running late, we were almost an hour early. So we walked around the mall and I had a cappachino.

My first.

It was interesting to walk in the coffeebistro thingy. All I wanted was a coffee. A plain, hot, black coffee. I had to laugh, when I asked her for it, and she told me they don't serve "regular coffee". She said it in such a ... "OMG you drink regular coffeh??!! you poor poor stupid girl. Move into the 21st century, puh-leeese!" kind of way.

So I ordered the cappachino. 'Cus I knew how to pronounce it. Later the husband told me That there were flavored syrups, but I didn't feel confidant enough in my coffee bistro knowledge to tackle that subject! Maybe next April.

The cappachino itself was .. OK. Nothing special, not something I would order again. It also took a hell of a long time to make. She was doing something with a machine that spat steam every where, and it was rather amusing watching her jump out of it's way every thirty seconds.

Edmond the Tax Dude had told us to walk around for forty minutes, so after forty five minutes pouting over TVs big enough to store children in, and disapproving looks from the camera clerk as I drooled on her display cases, we headed back to the tax place. But Edmond was still busy, so The husband and I had a spirited discussion on coinsecks.*

Finally Edmond the Tax Dude ushered us into his office and proceeded to take his comb over through our papers one by one. It was rather entertaining telling him the spellings for names, reciting birth dates and what not, only to have the husband stop him and say - "wait, there's not supposed to be a backslash here, right after the H in my name". Or "You have one to many sevens in the word house". - I thought that for a six hundred and eighty year old man who had forgotten his hearing aid, he did well, But The Husband was convinced that today was Edmonds' First day with a keyboard.

Taxes took close to Three.Bloody.Hours to complete. And I had to pee five minutes after we started.

We walked out of Edmond the Tax Dudes office, giggling, with a check in our hands and bladders ready to burst.

Drinking a very very large cappachino on the way to get your taxes done is a very very bad idea. However I would like to point out I did win our race to the restrooms!


*coinsex discussion has been typed out and will be saved for a rainy day.

Labels: I'm Important Too

The party for Blue Boy was a big success.

Stuperman managed to get a girlfriend three years older than him. They spent a lot of time holding hands. There were a few times I glimpsed her hands on his butt. She says she was helping him up to the high parts on the slides, but I dunno. Would you trust a girl in pig tails and pink camo?

Blue Boy had so much fun that he asked if he could be five again at his next birthday. I told him no.

I am way to tired to properly post anything, but I took many photos and many videos which will be dealt with in the next week. Or so.

**

The solution to my problem earlier this week is this.

**

Tonight I got the stuff ready for us to bring in tomorrow to get our taxes done. And by got ready I mean I slapped some random numbers on a paper that I am hoping he will accept even though we have no documentation of expenses what so ever, because we suck. What a horrible end to what had been an awesome Caturday.

Labels: I'm Important Too

I swear to God, It happened exactly like that too. Bam, out of the blue, it jumped out and attacked the van. A costly mistake, but I owned up to it right away. I'm good like that.

So now Interwebs, you are witnessing history. (Be sure to mark this on your calendar!)

I was wrong.

There I said it. Wrong. Off base. Haventgotaclue x 4. (Heh. Stole that last one from Miss Ann 'cus it amuses the ever living shit out of me.)

Wrong wrong wrong wrong.

Hi my name is Bluepaintred, and I am stupid.

That sort of wrong.

(why can't I ever write a short post? I try to I swear I do. I just can't do it. Adding shit like this doesn't help either)

OK. Lets do this bullet point to see if it will go faster:

• Today started in a very normal way.
• But
  

Labels: I'm Important Too

I always is like to think the of the worst possible thing that can happen in any situation.

Being hit by a train while swimming for example. Or having a speck of dust fly up and lodge itself in my belly button and burn its way through my body down to my toes while trying on a new pair of Capri's.

Some people think this is strange. I do not, because when you are expecting an octopus to leap out of the sewer and drag you under to his deep dark lair to make octo-babies with you, It makes your day So. Much. Better. when you manage to walk across the street unscathed.

I try to instill this wonderful characteristic in my children at times.

For example. With no clue what to get Blue Boy, we guessed and bought a bunch of random crap. I figured If I could make him think that something stupid was his gift, when he opened the actual toys, he would be over the moon.

I gots good logiks, huh?

I told him his present was in a bag on the table. His little face lit with glee as he raced to peek in the bag.

Can I open it? he asked, sounding doubtful.

Yeah. Here. I said as I dumped the bags' contents on the table. A roll of scotch tape and a package of dry erase markers.

Fully expecting confusion, anger, tears even, I was a little shocked when he looked up at me as if I had told him here's a million bucks, go buy candy!!

Is this fo' really my tape? He screamed, clutching it to his chest, knuckles white with the death grip he had on it.

Clearly, we need to take all this crap* back and get another roll...







* Individual photos, ones where I actually tell you what all of this crap is, can be found at Paint!
And over at the Photo Blog, I have photo proof of the difference between boys and girls.

Labels: I'm Important Too, Pranks

What should we get my four-turning-five-this-Monday year old for his birthday? I think he would be heartbroken if we actually did buy the Polly pocket and barbie like we have been teasing telling him...

enh! I have felt like crap all freaking evening. Stupid head.

I took the buttons off my keyboard because somehow coffee, a lot of coffee, spilt all over it. Then I had to go downstairs and take a picture of the keyboard down there to get them back on right.

I still screwed it up.

Please go here and enter your blog URL. Hilarity WILL Ensue (thanks Monkee, for the link!)

Fuck this is a boring post. I need something exciting besides the six hundred pound lady in sausage casing jeans that she slit deliberately... this was not an accidental overdose of cellulite, she did it voluntarily! On the ass cheeks. And on other worse places I am trying to forget.

Oh God.

I can still see the jiggle.

Labels: I'm Important Too

If:

• You are So mad at someone you want to ___ them.
• You cannot tell them why you are mad for fear you may say something you will regret.
• You KNOW you will say something you will regret.
• They are finally starting to realise I just might be mad at them.
• No fucking shit Sherlock!
• Soon they will ask you what the fuck is wrong.
• And you will still be too mad to say anything.
• However,
• Should you say "nothing",
• It then makes no sense to bring it up at a later date to be "talked" about!

I am going to bed in hopes of avoiding a confrontation. Discuss.

Labels: I'm Important Too

Not blogging till Friday, eh? Well, I did say if something happened, I would blog. And since no one (roxdar) would answer their phone, I guess I am blogging LOL

A while back, round December, Stuperman was really ill. When he finally got in to see his pediatrician, After a visit to the ER, his doctor put a note on his chart that he was to be seen immediately if I call again. Dr. P. was just as mad as I was at the wait we were given. Now I know, and Dr. P. knows, that the note on Stupe's chart was for his follow up appointment for his ear. The appointment he had in January.

Seems they forgot to take the note off his chart because I called this morning, thinking it would be a two week wait, and he has an appointment for this afternoon at 1:30. LMAO - Score!

Stuperman has been getting hives, huge angry red ones that itch him like crazy. They last for a day or so, go away completely and then come back worse then the time before. There is no trigger that we can see.

When He crawled out of bed this morning, I saw it was definitely time to get his hives looked at, seeing as he was covered head to toe!

In other news, I offer this tip to females around the world : You should be aware that the shaving of a feline pussy will dullen your razor blade MUCH faster then the shaving of a human pussy. And with razor blades costing 30 bucks for twelve, it's much better to listen to your husband when he says a cats fur is it's clothes and cat's don't like being naked.

What on earth am I to do with a half shaved pussy?

**EDIT**

from what I could understand, Dr P thinks its an infection of his oil glands caused by beta carotene (??) he has a prescription for antibiotics and a beta blocker? or something. He said in three days this round will clear up, to keep the cream on hand because it will come back again and again due to his fair skindedness...

so all is well.

Labels: I'm Important Too

Well that sucks. Only the end of my post got published (?wtf anyone had that happen???) Here is the first half of the post:

**

OMG its Sunday. Do you know what that means? Do you people realise how close I came to going INSANE. The fucktard long Easter Break is finally OVER*.

By eight thirty Monday morning, he will be back to school. Not a moment too soon either. I love my kids I really really really do. But sometimes, they annoy the crap out of me. Like when I have to spend all day breaking up fights. and the noise. Oh dear god the noise.

I couldn't even ship them outside for the day until last Friday for crying out loud.

I tell you, Easter break just About killed me. Or them.


Ooops! That's not what I meant to type. Here is what any loving mom would say:

I'm so sad that break is over, I'm so going to miss having that boy around. I should home school him!

*shudder*


I loaded an Easter video here. I would have loaded up more, but I gave the computer downstairs a hear attack trying to send them all upstairs at the same time. heh.

I loaded a shit load of photos on the photo blog here.

*If even ONE of you mentions summer break, I will hunt you down and kill you. I swear I will!

**
And now, two of my favorites. Enjoy them, they will be here all week!

alternatively;

Labels: confused

Today was wonderful.

• My son kissed a crocodile.
• According to a herper, my snakes are not lesbians
• Snake eggs sell for forty bucks a pop.
• Corns can lay as many as 35 eggs per clutch.
• It was warm enough for the children to swim in mud puddles all afternoon.
• During Supper, when asked what "pulp"was in regards to their orange juice, I successfully convinced the boys that the reason you have to shake OJ is to "stun" the pulp because if you don't they bite your tongue when you swallow it. Every so often they frantically stirred their OJ to Stun the pulp. Very Amusing.
  
• A totally relaxing day..

Bullets come in handy when you spend all night curled up on the couch and finally look at the clock only to realise that its quarter after one in the morning and you haven't posted.

I'm going to update this in the afternoon with pictures of the reptile show.

Spell check said I only got one word wrong. It does not recognise herper as a word which means I got ALL the words right.

Until I spelt recognise wrong.

Here are the photos. You can see these, with explinations as wella s many many more on my photo blog. (I will be uploading them as soon as I publish this!) Oh, the photo blog can be found over there on the sidebar under "links". I would directly link, but I am rather lazy...

Labels: I'm Important Too

The Husband and I were out for a smoke. He is reading the manual to his new PlayStation game. And telling me about it. Boring and weird things about it. Do I care that the dude in the robe isn't even pictured? No I do not. In fact I don't give a hot damn about anything PlayStation gameish. Except for DDR (six new records today :o)

So he gets to the end of the manual (sweet no more talkie talkie!!) and says "Warranty void if damage is caused by abuse"

I just laughed and said "What like sticking your dick in the hole and playing it by hand?"

Jittery Joe said that he are sure it covers sexual abuse too.

But my problem is you cannot abuse a thing. You just can't. Does a carrot or cucumber feel used after an adolescent tenderly washes it and puts it back in the crisper? No. Does the Shower head feel abused when it spends longer than normal cleaning cooter cleavage? No. A DVD doesn't have feelings, so it cannot be classified as abuse and therefore it would not void the warranty.

Who is right?

.

Labels: I'm Important Too

(Edited Edition)
I'm so important that people are clamoring at my e-mail to interview me!

First off we have Five questions from Mr.Fab.

1. You are hopelessly addicted to coffee. How long can you go without coffee and does your behavior change the longer you go without your devil beverage? Actually, I can go quite a while without it. See, every second Saturday we go grocery shopping for the following two weeks. We always have big plans about getting up by ten and hitting the stores by 11. We usually wake up at 1130. Or later. This means I have no time to brew up a pot. And if you mention the auto timer one more time I will get mad. I never remember to set it. If there is still some coffee in the pot leftover from the night before, I will suck that back, usually right out of the pot. If not, then I deal with it. Shopping with the children can take four or five hours, and if you add that to the ten or twelve hours sleep I got the night before, that's a long time without coffee. I don;t think my behaviour changes, as long as I am doing something. I get really bitchy REALLY fast if I am out of coffee, or my pot breaks and I am stuck at home. On a side note. Try searching the term "coffee" in my blog. Doesn't help does it? Seems I mention coffee four posts out of five. Sigh

2. You have three boys. Do you think life would be easier or harder if you instead had given birth to three girls? Hard to say. I know that other moms have told me girls are way worse then boys, and that I feel like a sick-o when I have to change a girls diaper, and also, girls are WAY more expensive then boys are, and that. OK, yes life would be harder with girls, Besides I like having all boys!

3. You and Jittery Joe got married at a young age, and so far it seems to be working out great. Do believe that everyone has a soul mate; someone that they are destined to spend their life with, or is it all one big crapshoot? Young? Not really, We were both twenty and about to become parents for the first time! I'm not sure I buy into soul mates or not. I know that one day I woke up and realised that seeing JJ made me happy, and being with him made me ecstatic. I'm happy so far with how my life has turned out, with the exception that I still don't have my Yorkie to put bows in, so if life IS a big crapshoot, then I rolled some damn lucky dice!

4. You live in a pretty rural part of Canada . Do you feel there is an advantage to raising children in the country as opposed to the country? Well now, that's a really difficult question. Lets start with living in the country. I like it. We live close enough to a big city so shopping is convenient, yet far enough away from the same city that I feel safe. The school in this small town is excellent. They look out for the kids. For instance, If RM is late by ONE minute, they call to see if he is OK. I love the fact that I can send the two older boys out all day long and they are safe. Of course they aren't aloud to leave the street, but still its a safe area for them. I like knowing that when I am out of town, my neighbours know, and watch out for my house.

Now, As for living int he country as opposed to the country, I HATE living in the country in the middle of summer when the rabbits next door and the horses in pasture behind the house are working together to send their shit smells into my bedroom. I hate the country when the towns only Slurpee machine is out of order and I want something cold to drink. I hate seeing an ad in the flyer and wanting to run into Wal-Mart, but not wanting to drive the 30 minutes in. And the biggest part I hate about living int eh country as opposed to the country is my husbands daily commute into the city in the winter when the roads are covered in ice.

Wait. Did you mean as opposed to the city?

5. Eventually your boys will all be in school. If you decide to pursue a career outside the home, what field do you see yourself entering? I don't ever want to work outside the home. Way back when I wanted to be a teacher. I'd still enjoy teaching, but I am looking forward to Stuperman going to school so I have more time for my writing.

And Now Avitable's Five Questions:

1. Can you actually spell correctly and you just like to make my head explode, or can you just not help it? Whiel I would liek to say I can type correctly and I do it to piss you off, I can;t. I type badly. A lot of my errors are keys hit in teh wrong order, but I am also an atrocious speller. A long time ago I came to grips with this, my pnly fault, you should think about putting your big girl panties on and dealing with it too! (refused to use the spell check on this question :p)

2. If you had to choose between Mr. Fab and myself, who would you choose and why? Remember that I'm almost 20 years younger, which gives me more stamina, and I have my hair. Unfortunately for both of you, Neither of you are anything like my type. For one thing, I hate excess body hair. Its gross. I like leg hair, but that's it. I cant stand facial hair (The Husband often goes weeks without shaving, I hate that) I hate armpit hair (He also refuses to shave that) I hate HATE chest hair (he only has six, so that's OK) and I am really fond of a smooth cup-a ball sack. And for both of you, I have.. issues with uhm. Your size. There really is no polite way to say that, is there? But the question was if I HAD to choose, I would choose Fab, cus he has the bunnies.. Wait, do you have pets Avitable? Avitable, because I like dogs more than I like bunnies...

3. If you had to lick someone's dirty, sweaty balls or freshly cleaned asshole, which would you choose? Hmm. This was the hardest of the ten questions. I'm seriously not into man ass. I like to grab a feel and pinch the booty as I pass as much as the next girl, but the black hole is not my thing. I guess would lick the nut sac and then gag until he offered to go and wash it.

However, how does one wash their asshole and not their balls? I mean to properly clean it you can't just run a washcloth up and down the crack, even if you look past the friction burn, that isn't what I would call clean. You need soap and hot water and lots of it. I would be interested in the actual dynamics of how a man washes himself. I mean, How do you soap up the peen and not spend a few minutes playing with the cock and balls?

4. Which one of your children is going to grow up to be the serial killer? Oh that's EASY. The easiest one of all. The Husband and I have covered this in the past, several times. Without a doubt, Blue Boy will e the serial killer. We have said this for a long long time. he will either kill messily and with a gusto or he will rule the world. Possibly both. RM will either be a professional gamer, a lawyer or a stunt man. Stuperman will always be my baby and never EVER leave home. Even if he wants too.

5. What do you want your kids to have that you didn't growing up? I always wanted my own penis, and since each of the boys have one- even if Blue Boy is lacking in the testicle department- they have all fulfilled my childhood fantasies. That came out wrong, didn't it?



Leave me a comment saying, “Interview me.” I will respond by asking you five questions. I get to pick the questions. You will update your weblog with the answers to the questions. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview someone else in the same post. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions.

I doubt I can come up with good questions. What will probably happen is I will end up asking a rude question and begin to receive the hate mail I have been longing for!

Labels: I'm Important Too, Meme

I was talking to my Sister-in-law on the phone tonight. She was put in charge of coming up with tonight's post. She failed, so by default, she becomes the post (insert childish stuck out tongue here).

The Husband has about a billion sisters. Or five. Three of them are pretty whacked out for various reasons, one is so far away I barely know her, and the other is normal except for her aversion to snot monsters children.

I was talking to the normal one. About the abnormal ones. Following me still? The Sisters are very very difficult to get off the phone once they start talking. I think it has something to do with the OMG T.V.'s are evil, None aloud in mah house! Out Damn Spot. OUT! attitude they have.

One time I was forced to pinch the baby to make him scream in order to get of the phone. I'm not proud of it, but it had to be done.

Normal Sis sets a time limit right at the start of a call, Saying Hi! I can only talk for this long as I am going out.

So internets, what do you do to get out of talking to annoying People? People you have less than nothing in common with? People who take every word you say and pass it on to others?

**
In other exciting news!!

Mr Fab was offering to interview people, and I got my questions VIA e-mail today. Should I tell him he screwed up one of the questions or answer it as is? One one hand, I like Fab. On the other hand, It would make the answer funnier... decisions decisions!

**
Breaking new update!

It occurred to me, whilst lounging in the bathtub, melting bits of chocolate on my tongue, what good is a diet if you cannot cheat on it? that if I keep coming up with excuses for why the children can't have just a little bit of Easter candy, Please mommy, Next April we will be frantically eating bunnies to make room for more. Again.

**

My other blog is set up with PPP now. It is still awaiting approval. I don't remember how long that takes. I would be very grateful in an oral sexish way (given by the snake of your choice, of course) if you would link Paint! on your blogs and add it to your Technorati favorites. If you have any other ideas on how to raise my page rank, spill it!

Technorati Profile

Labels: I'm Important Too

Nine thirty at night and I am exhausted. Its damn hard work sitting on my ass all day drinking coffee you know. I was just laying in bed reading and I thought "I better go blog before I fall asleep and forget about it!"

As for the contest. I thought there was a three way tie. Till I re read all the answers. there is only one person who got four out of five right, and then, she re-commented, after I told her she was in the lead, and changed one of her answers and ended up with five out of five.

Did any of that make sense?

Told you I was tired. Anyway, Sheila got them all right (Blue Boy, Rainbow Man, Stuperman, Rainbow Man and Jitteryjoe). Please email me your stalker info and I will get it in the mail.

I decided to the store and get some hot dogs as I will have company with small children over tomorrow. When we were there, I asked Stupe if he wanted to hold the hot dogs for me. He was quiet for a minute, looking at me, and then said OK. I handed them to him and he exclaimed in a very loud and excited voice "OH! They are not hot mommy!"

It never occurred to me that children would see hot dogs that way. I wonder if he thinks they are really made out of dogs too... I think I will tell him they are next time we see a dog walking around.. .

I heard a rumor that I might be going to the spa in June. Something about getting my hair cut in layers. This will be a very new experience. I once splurged and paid nineteen bux for a hair cut. Normally I stick to the magi-cuts in the mall. They charge eight bux. And neat stickers on the mirrors. Plus they massage my head with this minty smelling soap stuff. I wish I knew what it was. Do you know?

I have been worrying about the Spa thing since I was told. What exactly goes on in a spa? What should I wear? Do I need to shave my legs? Is this where the magic pedicures that everyone talks about happen? And what exactly is a pedicure? Should I already know all of this stuff because I am a girl?

Some days I think I am just a guy with a vagina. And less hair. Who hates sports. But I burp really well.

Labels: I'm Important Too

What do you do when you don't have anything to post except how you frantically cleaned the house because you are getting company over who could care less weather or not the cupboard doors are washed (they are) or the floors have been swept( they haven't)?

You have a contest of course!

This is an easy one interweb. We are going to play "Who said it?" I am going to give you 5 quotes from today and all you have to do is guess if it was Stuperman, Blue Boy, Rainbow Man or Jittery Joe.

(Answer In The Comments)

1. I have a hole in my gitch (underwear) because at the night-times my nekkie growed and it broked them.

2. You can only give Harold three strawberries because he is allergic and will get the hypothermia.

3. I am a boss of you!

4. It goes all the way to the bottom! LOOK!!! Now it's smoking!

5. I have to pee. Can I drain this water?

The first person to get all five right gets a prize. If no one gets all five right, whomever comes closest to five, gets the prize. The prize is a surprise to everyone but me. And I like it, so you should too!

Good luck!

Labels: Contest, I'm Important Too

This afternoon, at my folks place, we dined like Kings. There was a Ham AND a Turkey. (I had both) Stuperman came wandering into the kitchen, hungry and coming down from his fourth or fifth Sugar High. I got down on my knees to give him a quick cuddle. He was looking at the oven.

The Turkey was beautiful, golden brown and swimming in juices. It smelt wonderful. Stuperman Pointed at it, So I told him that it was the Easter Bunny. He giggled and said "Eater Bunneh!" Ignoring the gasps of dismay from the three other mothers in the kitchen, I took that as A Sign that I should continue.

I explained that Grandpa had heard a noise in the middle of the night and had killed the Easter Bunny by mistake and so now we would be eating him for dinner. Stuperman thought this was hilarious.

Later on, during the carving of the Easter bunny Turkey, Stuperman laughed and pointed, saying "Gampa cuttin the Eater Bunneh!". I kind of wonder what will happen the next time Stuperman sees a Turkey in the oven, but we will cross that bridge when it comes.

Since the Death of the Easter Bunny was such a hit with the baby, I brought Blue Boy over and explained what had happened.

His eyes filled with tears and his little lip trembled. Then He realised it was me he was talking to and yelled, "Dat NOT de Easter Bunny! I'm not eating Dat!!"

I tried my damnedest to convince him, I even offered him the fluffy bunny tail, arguably the best tasting bunny part there is. He was adamant and I finally had to quit trying to convince him when it looked like he was ready to punch me.

Le Sigh.

I moved on to Rainbow Man, who was playing his Nintendo DS in the living room. Again, I patiently explained what had happened with the Bunny during the night. I offered him a hug and said it would be OK. He looked up from his Game Boy, sighed and annoyingly adult sounding Sigh, and said "It's just a Turkey Mom, But I will play your game if you want."

They Grow Up So Damn Fast.

*sob*

Labels: I'm Important Too, Pranks

Having successfully convinced our older children that all chocolate comes from the rear end of Rabbits, I feel that This Easter will be a special one indeed. In fact, it;s already special because this is the first Easter we will be Bunny Poop Hunting at my dad's.

Normally we do the Poo Egg Hunt at home and then head over to which ever house is sporting the tastiest Easter dinner.

I actually remembered to bring my camera so I am hoping I will remember to take pictures/video of the children fighting over who gets which piece of poop first.

I just learnt that the highest amount ever won on Deal or No Deal was 464,000. Just thought you wanted to know this.

I'm going to get my dad to scan the photos that the boys got with the Easter bunny. Hopefully I can post them tomorrow night. And uhm. I'm going to make a pot of coffee on the next commercial. Also I have to pee.

Ok so I just made the coffee on a really cool grinder, so in five minutes ill be sippin' the drink of the Gods.


Seriously I have nothing to say. Did you expect me too?

Also. ZOMGS! Chocolate bunny poo out my wazoo in just 9 more hours! I loves me some chocolate poo!

Labels: I'm Important Too

Today was a full day and this post was going to be about that.

(We saw the Easter Bunny! Got Pictures! Six O'clock news taped My boys! Told y0u they were cute!!)

What happened is, My In-Laws took the three boys for the night, (Friday) and we don't pick them up until after shopping Saturday. The Husband and I went out for a night on the town, which usually includes a movie and coffee. We are SO exciting!!

At coffee I even took notes to facilitate me remembering the funniness of our conversations.
(quick example of said notes : Butt implants = chocolate; weatherman vrs. lawyer)

But then. Then we saw the movie. If you see only ONE movie this year. Just one, See this one.

300.

I was looking forward to it. I had read a lot of different reviews. Hot. Nearly Naked. Buff Men. Three Hundred Hot Buff, HOT Men.

Whats not to look forward to?

This movie.

I don't have the skills needed to convey how good this movie was. How amazing. How powerful. It's a movie filled with death, blood, gore, pain and suffering and yet, this move is the embodiment of life. WHY we are here, why we fight and Die to be here.

Its about love and family and future and past generations of humanity.

Sure there are hot men in this movie, and yes they are running around in leather speedo's with sweat and blood dripping of their taunt rippling stomachs, but by the end, cease to be men. They're just soldiers fighting for their way of life, for their freedom.

They become the symbol of why every one of us continues to take our next breath. If each of the actors were a hunchback covered with pus-oozing warts, the movie would have been just as amazing.

My fascination with the tight butts and broad shoulders ended about ten minutes in, and my heart, my whole being was pulled into this movie, fighting with them, fist clenched in agony with every stroke of the sward.

Literally on the edge of my seat.

At times I laughed; So filled with glee, so proud of them and why they fought. At times I cried; My heart breaking for them, like they were one of my own. Towards the end, I had to sit on my hands from fear I would throw my fists in the air and chant battle cries right alongside them.

This wasn't just a movie. This wasn't just special affects and bouncing boobies, as nice as the boobies were, this movie, the morals, the lessons, the spirit of this move is one we should all endeavor to embrace.

A free people, no matter the cost. Free to live and love and be.

Labels: I'm Important Too

The deadline has run out, its five to twelve and I still have no idea what to post.

so uhm yeahhhh

• I made some clay that seems to be just floury playdoh this afternoon. Then I made it into a volcano. Rainbow mans' school has been out since Wednesday and classes do not resume until the sixteenth. In an effort to ensure I do not kill my children - who are kind of cute, plus I think murder is illegal, - we will be having some volcanic eruptions to stave off zOMG RUN MOMMAS GONNA GET US eruptions.

• I told the toddlers, after they drank a glass of milk that only kitties drink milk so they must be kitties. Then I took out a laser pointer and had them chase it. I video taped it, but haven't bothered to upload it. Maybe after Easter.

Here! Proof I have Evil Annoying Children!




Even Stuperman is out to get me!

Stuperman with a cap gun minus caps : Oh! I shooted it in my mouth!
Me trying to do my hair : mmmhmmm..
Stuperman: Did that hurted me mommy?
Me : Yeah, it sure did
Stuperman, pauses, considers that and then says : ow mommy OW! I can hab a cookie mommy?

Labels: I'm Important Too

Katherine, has tagged me with a meme of sorts. Maybe it's an award. I'm not really sure. I do know that I think it is pretty fucking cool!

I will admit to a cirtain amount of envy when I watched Ole Blue dole out his "tags" for this very thing. It's be quite a few days since she bestowed this on me, and she may have thought I didn't know because I haven't acknowledged it in any way. It's just such a surprise, I mean... me? Thinking?? Was Katherine referring to this post maybe? Or this one? It was Probably this one... Maybe.

I guess it doesn't matter which post I wrote that made her think I think, as long as I can successfully come up with five new bloggers to pass the award on to. And therein lies the crux of the matter... Who on earth do I tag?

I have given this a LOT of thought in the days since Kathrine posted. Here is what I have come up with:

1. Finn. Not only does Finn take awesome photographs, she writes from her heart. I tend not to comment on a lot of posts that make me think, because I feel I need to step back, and think about it first. I'm also leery of saying the wrong thing, I have a very bad reoccurring case of Foot-in-mouth disease.

2. Avitable. I kept coming back to his blog while scanning my bloglines trying to decide who to choose. I know that the topic is thinking, and I'm sure the guy who made up the meme meant high end stuff. However, where else but at Avitables', will you learn that fisting is approved by the Bible? And if that doesn't make you think, I don't know what will!

3. Cecily. I know Cecily does not read my blog. In fact a lot of the people on my bloglines don't read BPR. That's OK, they don't know I exist because I am hesitant to comment on their blogs. I think out of the few hundred posts I have read at And I wasted all that Birth Control, there might only be one or two that did not send me away thinking profound thoughts.

4. Catch. This is getting harder and harder. There are generally only two types of blogs I visit. Funny blogs and personal blogs. Catch has managed to combine both. One day she will ask us probing questions and tell us snippets of her daily life with her mom and her job. Then the next she will post a picture of rainbow poo!

and lastly,

5. Shelli. If you ignore the last weeks posts - because Mr. Fab has taken over and is alternately sexing up the polar bears or killing them off, Shelli writes about things that a lot of bloggers shy away from. She writes in a way that instantly connects you to how she was feeling and makes you sit back and remember similar things that have happened in your life. And sometimes that's hard to do - to go back and remember the fear and grief of a loved ones death. But She also writes about the happy moments in her life with the same intensity, again, drawing you back to memories or making you look forward to experiencing it for yourself!

Whew. It really is hard to pick and choose from the hundred-some blogs on my list, Every blog in my bloglines is there because I get a lot of enjoyment from reading it.

[this part is copied directly from Katherine's blog 'cus I'm a lazy bitch]

If I've presented you with this glorious award, the participation rules are simple:

3) Optional: Proudly display the 'Thinking Blogger Award' with a link to the post that you wrote.

Labels: I'm Important Too, Meme

Last night we got to bed on time. [Insert clapping] We always try to get to bed by midnight, and always its 12:30 or 1 am before we finally close our eyes. And that's not even counting taking time out for the Marital Mambo!

So last night it was 11:56 and I was in bed, eyes shut, lights off. [Give the lady a gold star!] I heard this weird noise. I guess The Husband heard it too because after a few moments he asked; "Is that the snakes?"

We got up to check.

Our Snakes are lesbians.

I should have caught it on film. I will next time. But this time, we were too shocked to do anything but watch their frisky and somewhat kinky antics.

It would have been arousing, if I wasn't so tired to begin with!

After several tense minutes spent frantically googling "Snake Sexing" to make sure they were both girls* and that we weren't about to become herper-grandparents at such a young age, we went back to bed.

We thought the girls had finished, turns out, they were just waiting for us to turn the lights back out.

Laying in the dark, listening to the rasp of their tightly coiled bodies roiling over a recently shed snakeskin, listening as they lifted the rocks in the tank up and over, sighing as they dumped over their water dish (again - this is their favorite past-time), we began to talk.

I sure hope they are lesbians. We don't need any more babies!

Yea, he replied softly in he darkness.

I wonder if all snakes do that biting thing? I whisper, trying not to distract the coiling lovers on the dresser.

Maybe they're just kinky. I could hear him smiling as he said this

Desperate you mean? If they are both girls and they want some lovin, they aren't getting very much satisfaction just bumpin' uglies, are they? We should get them a stripper pole or something... I am still whispering

We both giggle.

The idea of handcuffs was considered and then discarded - to use them, they would have be lizards. We discussed various buzzing devices one might have around the home, but wondered if the vibrations would hurt them like it does a fish when you tap on the glass.

We eventually settled on a Sex Swing

In any event, we have do something to make sure they know we are OK with their lifestyle choice, right?

The husband lay silent. Then He says; "Oh well, I guess in a few weeks, we'll know if we should be ordering Rainbow Stickers or a box of cigars!"



* Did you know snakes have a Y shaped Penis? Way cool

Labels: I'm Important Too

I have to say, I'm pretty pissed off at y'all.

And let me tell you! If you knew that this site existed and chose NOT to tell me, the you are not my friend anymore!

See what happened is I losted my net today for like all day and I had to wash dishes and do laundry and watch Reign of Fire with the boys and bake cookies and stir jello instead of internetwebbing! And so when the husbandy-type dude came home I cried and told him to fix my internets and he did.

First stop! Bloglines! OMGZ who has updated??!!?? But then my face got stuck on my monitor because Teh Caption Kittehs! OMG! Funny captions coupled with random funny misspellings, But wait! Did I just pee my pants a little bit? Yes! Yes I did!

And I still don't know if you updated. Ei is sowwy.

So yea.

And now we come to the portion of the program where you sit helplessly and read while I bitch and moan at the fact that Teh Interweb people - who make me pay out my ass for my interwebs - are upgrading something or other which means I will have shitty ass internets for a shitty ass long time:

Bad Internet Service Provider! Bad!

That felt good!

And....

You should all know that Stuperman came up to me, in the bathroom, where I was very busy, and said "I has to shitting Mommy" I don't think any of you could have gone one more second without knowing this.

Labels: I'm Important Too

So our April fools joke ran flat this year. I told The Husband we should have saran-wrapped the doors to their room trapping them in!

He is such a spoil sport.

Instead we covered the cupboard that the bowls live in and all the spoons in saran. And also the toaster in case they wanted toast for breakfast.

I was hoping to find a crying child at my bedside this morning asking for help making breakfast because OMG the bowls are in jail!

I even took the camera to bed because I planned on taping it for your amusement.

Little brats ate dry cheerios instead. Right out of the box! Shit!

Sigh. Did any one else get off a good prank? I know Avitable did.

I didn't do Sunday Six with the boys this week because I am very very lazy. I did do the dishes though. Where is my gold star?

Here are my SS answers.

1. Why do we color Easter Eggs?
We color Easter eggs because there is nothing I like better then trying to scrub food coloring out of clothing and skin. Also I love when one of the eggs goes missing and is found a month or two later, broken, and under a bed. Best! Thing! Ever!

2. Where does the Easter Bunny live when its not Easter?
When it is not Easter, the Easter Bunny is down at the North Pole helping Santa with his New Christmas Ad Campaign to ensure Maximum Whining from October through December 24th. Santa, In return, acts as a look out while that deviant Bunny buggers every chicken he can find.

3. What is Passover?
Passover is when I get picked last for dodge ball. I hate being passed over!

4. Why is Passover special?
Passover is not special in any way, in fact its very hurtful and mean. It is one of the reasons I would tell my male Phys. Ed. teacher I had my period 28 days of the month. And why I would use drywal plaster and gauze to give my self casts that lasted the length of Gym class.

5. What is your favorite Easter food?
My favorite Easter food is anything chocolate but I am especially fond of the Mr.Crispy (chocolate bunnies with rice crisps) and malted balls. I looooove malted balls!

6. What comes after Easter?
After Easter you spend the next month bitching about how you can't stop eating the leftover chocolate and why is this still in the house dammit?!? How do you expect me to stay on my diet when there is chocolate everywhere! Also, you usually buy a new scale because the one you have already is obviously broken.

Here. This is what we did last year to the boys. Not on April first though. I don't need a special day to torture Prank my boys.

Labels: I'm Important Too, Sunday Six