My computer "desk" is my kitchen counter. See those brown packages on the counter? Tug, Rich? Those are your not yet mailed out Prizes. MetalMom? Yours is in the sewing room un-adressed becuase I lost your address..I know, I'm bad. OH! and you can see all the paint! Excitement!
We do have this desk like thingy, But its just for the phone and the cords and sometimes my coffee.
See? Lots of stupid cords. Why does a "wireless" computer need so many cords anyway?


Anyway. I wanted to be, and now I am. Job well done. Someone pat my back for me! Maybe a gold star?

Labels: I'm Important Too, Pictures

With all of the dental work I have been getting done, as well as the dates for upcoming work (ACK! three teeth- September seventh) (Or was it the Sixth?) I have had a nagging worry sitting at the back of my tonsils mind. Lately it has taken to jabbing me with a pointed stick every time The Husband and I Undress for bed.

Can you give a blow job when you have dentures? Anyone? You in the last row? Sigh.

As it is right now, I cannot do anything Hoover-ish with my mouth. Big gaping hole, exposed bone, that kind of shit. And before that heals I will have a matching hole (hopefully with no bone) on the right.

Looking at the calendar I assume that it is going to be February/March before I can open up the oral amusement park. And then there is the fact that the idea of giving some tubular loving to the Husband without teeth makes my stomach quiver with distaste. I get the immediate picture of a little old gray hair'd lady (Hi Granny) on her knees. (Not that My Granny would know anything about BJ's)(In fact, I'm pretty sure she is still a virgin)

I need some honesty from the male blogging sect.

Given the choice between having false teeth fly out at an inopportune moment and having your sausage gummed to death, what would you choose?

Labels: I'm Important Too

*note to self* write that post about blow jobs tomorrow morning when you have more time to really bite into the subject.

*note to readers* I told you to ignore this!

Labels: I'm Important Too

We went out to dinner tonight. Not becuase I wasn't in the mood to cook or we had any insatiable cravings, but because I was too lazy to wash the dishes.

Come to think of it, un-washed dishes are the main reason we eat out. Well except for McDonald's. I need no excuse for a Big Mac.

It took them almost fifteen minutes to seat us, and then another ten for our drinks to arrive. We were not offered water, and she forgot to bring it no matter how many times we requested it. I had my coffee, so I was willing to let that go.

The Husband's and my food was brought out first. It took ten minutes for the boys food to come. Half of my dinner went to them as they were starving. Thats ok. My Chicken fingers were burned, My Fries were raw and the dressing I ordered on the side was covering not just the salad, but the fires and chicken as well.

Appetizing.

Rainbow Man spilled his drink and when the server noticed me frantically trying to mop it up with the two napkins she had given our table, she brought me a smelly, dirty rag. Just brought it and handed it to me. It was disgusting. I had to clean up the mess as best I could.

I placed the wet napkins and disgusting cloth on a plate at the edge of the table and went to the washroom to wash my hands and get some paper towel to finish mopping the table.

The plate with the cloth stayed at the table the entire meal. It smelled. Had I mentioned that?

And this was all in the first forty minutes.

It became obvious she wanted us to leave, even though Blue Boy was only one bite into his burger - which she refused to wrap up - when she balanced the bill for the dinner on top of my full cup of coffee.

We got to the counter, still hungry and very upset. This is a small town restaurant, but it's part of a large franchise. Thomas the Cook. I don't know if my American readers will have ever heard of it, But in SK, it's well known. We have gone to this same restaurant many, many times, and had nothing but a good time.

I have been with my husband for 11 years and in all that time, no matter the service, he is polite and kind, and he always leaves a tip, even when I am ready to punch the server for being a dickfucker, he will leave a tip. Today was very different.

At the till, the chick asked how everything was and without hesitation, The Husband said Horrible. He then proceeded to spend five minutes telling her, in explicit detail, why.

"Well, what do you want me to do about it??!" she asked, after giving us a total for over forty dollars. For food we were unable to eat.

We won't be returning.

But on the plus side, Granny Loves me.



It will take some bribes time for me to think on who to pass this along too. Be generous patient.

Labels: I'm Important Too

We tried to paint spots on the wall tonight but were unsuccessful due to my Supreme Bitchyness. We got nine done. Out of about thirty? More? Less?

• I have absolutely nothing to talk about.

• The kids spent the day either fighting or throwing up.

• I burnt two different batches of cookies.

• I feel slightly ill from the antibiotics, but so far it''s not that bad.


• A little light headed though.

• I had to turn on the captcha. Sorry. I had forty seven spam comments in under an hour. Thats annoying. I will leave it on for a few days. Hopefully the spambots will be gone by then.

Here's a photo. Talk amongst yourselves while I go soak in the tub.

Labels: I'm Important Too

Last Wednesday I had two of my upper molars removed. During the first extraction I panicked .. freaked out casually mentioned to my dentist that it felt like she was going to break my jaw.

She reassured me very much by telling me she takes out over 700 teeth a year and has yet to break a jaw. Seven hundred? Thats a fucktonne of teeth! Seriously, take away 108 days for weekends, a week at Christmas and another week in the summer? She has to extract almost three teeth a day!

Thursday after the extraction I panicked again went into the office becuase I was worried about the site. See, I had felt something hard with my tongue and when I used various contortionist maneuvers, a flash light and a set of mirrors and a coat hanger, I saw that it was coated in something white.

I was worried It was an infection.

It turned out to be cracker bits from my soup at lunch.

I'm a closet hypochondriac, So sue me!

I was adamant all through the weekend that something was wrong with my mouth, that it wasn't healing right, while at the same time, seriously worried about going back to the dentist only to find out I had mistakenly lodged the batteries to my vibrator in it.

Or Something.

My tune changed by Monday morning when I woke up and my face was on fire. That sucked. I called the office and could hear the disdain the receptionists voice as I begged for an appointment. I got one. At eight thirty that night. Fuuccck.

Here is a very technical drawing I drew all by myself. It will help explain things.



There is a very thin ridge of bone between your teeth. Obviously it does not go as high as your gums, but it is there. She broke it. Not intentionally I am sure. (Although, after all the trouble I have given her in the last week, do you think I should be worried about my appointment on the sixth to have three more teeth removed?)

Now, It's not broken in the sense that I need a cast (LOLZ) or pins or anything really. Its like a fracture, or something. Anyway. I have antibiotics (Guaranteed to cause stomach upset or your money back!!) And the break will heal in time. Lots and lots and lots, of time.

But I was right and she was wrong nana-nana boo-boo. And she damn well better stop telling people she has never broken a Jaw bone, or else!

Labels: I'm Important Too, Pictures

Our ketteh Tigger has been put on Stuff On My Cat again. She is pictured with a rat on her back. The rat's name was Bob. Unfortunately, Mario thought Bob was the Cat, not the Rat.

What would they say if they knew the rat became lunch for the snakes?

If you want to see the whole Rats On Cats On Brats series, Click here.

(this is the second post of the night. scroll down for the first)

Labels: I'm Important Too

Labels: I'm Important Too, Pictures

Sitting in McDonald's today, my husband that I was weird.

Me! Weird.

When I asked for clarification, he said he was not able to point out any one thing that I do weirdly, but that my whole view of the word is weird.

I argued the point and continued to press him for examples. Again, He was unable to offer any.

He did try to say he loved me, even though I was weird.

Too late jerk! Your foot and mouth? They've already met, and it was love at first site.

He went on to say that all of YOU think I am weird too, and thats why you keep coming back to BPR.

So what say you?

Labels: I'm Important Too

In reality it is half past one. But if you look at the time stamp of this post It is pretending that it was written yesterday at 11:59. Blogs are sneaky that way. One day they will rule the world.

I need to point out I am deeply in lust with the new camera. Thats right. Only four days after I bought it, it showed up on my door step. With crickets. About thirty of them. Only one was alive so I gave it to the cat. It's no longer alive.

I drove out to my dads house after supper today. My granny has been telling me she has a surprise for me for about six weeks and Mother Marnee bribed me with a box full of books. I picked up my sister Sheri becuase her birthday is tomorrow and dad is on call and so she won't get to see him.

I gave her the cards. She was very pleased. Thank you.

Here are six million* photos I took with the new camera. I know they should be on the photo blog, but just this once? Deal with it.

Stuperman. The black and white with blue eyes? Done on the camera with a click of a button.







*Not an exaggeration.

Pee ess: I need to :

Get hosted, install a CMS like wordpress.org, or install MT 4.0, or any other CMS, and get it approved.

What does that mean? Oh. and it's not for BPR, its for my PPP blog, Paint! Or wait. Maybe I will use Where Was I. Whatever. What is a host? Where do I find one, how much does it cost. And what the fuck is a CMS??!!

Labels: I'm Important Too, Pictures

So yesterday was interesting. The appointment went as well as I expected. I think I was most nervous about the needles used for freezing but I lost that particular fear about the same time the Dentist had her foot on my forehead and it felt like she was yanking out my entire jawbone.

But hey, No worries, right?

To address a few issues;

The whole bloglines thing. I was *considering* reverting bluepaintred to one post on the main page and taking a nightly PPP opp. I just needed to know how many people were going to be subjected to it VIA bloglines/readers. I have decided that for now, the twenty bucks a night just isn't worth it, but by damn if BPR ever reaches a PR6, I will be taking the 200$ opps like it's nobody's business!

The credit card questions were becuase we found something we really really need want This. Trust me, if you have a cat. Click the link. Every 2 months you have to change the soap cartridge and every four months you need to change the litter. The problem is, It can only be bought online. With a credit card.

I do not think I am responsible enough to have a credit card in my possession, so we are still wavering on it. The Hubs thinks it will be fine, but I know me, and money - we part ways often and quickly!

And finally, the rumor that BPR is too fucking lazy to reply to the past weeks' worth of comments and deserves to be beaten with large strips of salami? Normally, I would beg for forgiveness, but it is true. I am lazy - feel free to take out your meat and beat me with it.

Labels: I'm Important Too

Best Of Craigslist:

Dear Crazy-As-Bat-Shit-Lady:

I am honored that you chose my ad for a mini fridge out of all the ads you could have chosen. It makes me feel good that my mini fridge will be supplying you with the ice cold beverages you've obviously become accustomed to.

Next time you answer one of my ads, please note the following:

1. I am not Home Depot. If you travel thirty minutes to pick up a bulky 40-pound object, please come prepared with the necessary items you'll need to secure it to your vehicle. Yes, I have rope. I have a lot of rope. I have many different colors and sizes of rope. No, you can not have my rope. The ad said I was selling a fridge, not a fridge with rope. Nor was I selling a fridge with padding so that the pleather seats on your piece of crap car don't get marked up.

2. What part of 'buyer must pick up' in the ad was confusing to you? Yes, I have a vehicle. No, I don't want to haul your fridge all the way to East BumbleFuck on the hottest day of the year. No, I'm really really sure I don't want to do that. No, really. I'm sure.

3. Please call me only once with ALL your questions. I left for the day, and had 5 messages on my answering machine, the last one was at 10:30 pm. Frankly lady, you were sounding a bit too crazy by the end of the day. It's a fridge. A small metal box that keeps shit cold. I don't have the fridge's family tree. For all I know the fridge's was conceived by a slutty young Maytag that graced some hillbilly's side porch. I don't know the exact age of the fridge. I bought it a few months ago, I used it for a couple of days, ok, I lied, I used it a whole week. The fact is, you're not buying a race horse, you're buying a used fridge.

4. No, I will not knock $10 bucks off the price of the fridge because your anal retentive eyes picked up the ittiest, bittiest hairline scratch from across my driveway. I'm not making judgments on you, but I'm pretty damn sure Donald Trump didn't send you across the country to pick up a used fridge for Trump Towers. Though I'd wager the whole concept of the mini-fridge bar is a familiar one to you.

5. Yes, you can unplug a fridge without any harm to the fridge. Believe me, the fridge is fine. The manufacturers have figured out a way to extend the life of a fridge that has been unplugged. Yes, I'm absolutely sure of that. No, you did not have to leave 2 messages about your concerns with the fridge being unplugged, and frankly it was a little embarrassing having the same conversation with you in my driveway where my neighbors could hear.

6. No, I don't have the operating instructions. I can write them down for you though: Plug fridge in. Open door. Put crap inside. Take crap out when it's cold. Eat or drink crap.

7. I am not a fridge pimp. I don't have any more fridges at that price. No, I don't know where you can get another fridge at that price. Yes, I know it's in great condition for the price, and I'm sure you'd like your other crazy-as-bat-shit-mini-fridge-buying-friends to have one just like it, but this is all I have. Here's a thought, there's this online classified ads website. Yeah, you may have heard of it, it's called CRAIGSLIST. I dunno, maybe, just maybe, in this great land of ours, there's another mini-fridge being advertised there.

8. Please remove my phone number from your address book. I think our relationship is over. Oh, and if you've added me to your AIM Buddy List, please delete me. Please. I beg you.


Yours truly,

The mini-fridge seller

Pee ess: My mouth hurts. A lot. But thanks to the Wisdomosities of Fantastagirl it is no longer bleeding like a son of a bitch!

Labels: I'm Important Too, Stolen Jokes

First of all you should know that I just got out of the bath. It was a very short, lavender scented bubble bath. It was short becuase I ran out of book to read and I NEED a book in the bath.

I got out of the bath and began to towel off so I could go get dressed for bed, write my post and then undress for bed again. I decided to cut out the middle man and am now sitting here naked. There are still three bubbles on my left foot - oh! Two now.

(I smell like lavender, Verry Niiice)

I wanted you all to be picturing me naked as you read this. OK - wait. Dad? Not you.

Second. I need to know how many of you read me through bloglines (Or Google Reader) . This is very important and I will be making a big decision based on the answers I receive. If you do not speak up now and say you read me through bloglines you are NOT allowed to bitch if I change ..something.

And third. Most importantly. Me and Jittery need a bit of advice.

We want a credit card. No thats not true. Credit cards are evil. Worse than Carrot Top.*shivers* We do not want one at all, and are very scared to even consider applying for one, and yet the fact remains, we must get one.

Since we fear the awful powers of credit, we know next to nothing about them.

• We need one that has a LOW limit. Say five hundred.
  
• We also want one that is secure for online, one with reasonable interest rates (hey, whats a reasonable rate of interest for a credit card company to charge?)
  
• and one that has either low or no annual fees.

Are we asking for the impossible? Help us out. Should we be looking at Visa? Master card? Capital One (I like their commercials!!) or something else?

Labels: I'm Important Too

So my day started off SO perfect. NO kids, slept till eleven. A shower All.By.Myself. No kids screaming in the living room making me come out with soapy feet and bubbly hair to kill separate them. NO Stuperman knocking on the shower door to let me know I have bubbles on my head and "dats berry silly mommy, take it off" Lemme repeat. No kids.

None.

So I went online and found out that Fantastagirl and Angel both gave me a Nice Matters award! Sweet.

See. I am too nice. They said so and They wouldn't lie. Would they? I get to give this to fourteen hol-ehfuck.thatsalot! bloggers now. But I will do that later becuase you need to know how awesome my day was.

So the kids came home, and one would think that right there the perfect awesome wonderful day would end. But it Didn't! See. We emptied the pool. Have you any idea how fun it is to give three kids buckets and ask them to empty a pool Without getting wet? Hilarity ensued. Also. I soaked them all.

And then? Then I went to PPP and found out that my good buddy CoffeeMom won a freaking roomba! Awesome fucking news. (I want one. Send it now)

And then? Then I checked my PayPal. Does anyone even remember why I started Whoring myself out the the wonder that is PPP?

Anyone?

*pout*

I wanted a new camera. A small one I could throw in my purse. This will be here in a week.

And then? Best of all? BFF Kissy Called me and told me she was ditching work so we could go for coffee. YAY ME.

And to tag the 14 peeps I think are nice? Innerestingly enough there are 101 blogs in my bloglines and when I take out all the porn links, and the ones that are celebsites, I still come up with more peeps than I have awardtags. Which I hate. Still. I'll try.

Avitable - He comes across as gruff and rude, but I think he is more of a teddy bear then a profanity filled gorilla.

Mr.Fab - Now here is a weird, but nice guy. If you were to try and guess how many times I have e-mailed him with a problem you'd have to start guessing in the triple guesses. And each time I ask, he has the answers or can point me to them. Hmm. Maybe he's not so much a Nice guy as a know it all. No matter. It's already typed and I'm not deleting all that hard work.

Shelli - Shelli reminds me of myself except in one area. She really is a nice person. I just pretend to be.

Sheila - She rocks becuase she makes me feel loved with her constant battle for Firstdom.

CoffeeMom - She comes and drinks coffee with me. She MUST be nice!

NobodyTM - Nobody is nice. Know how nice? I've asked him twice to transfer blogspot blogs to dotcoms, and he did it both times. I wonder what he would say if I asked him to do it a third time for me.....

MalnurturedSnay - He hates salad and loves Harry Potter, but nicest of all? He brings people pizza!

And Uhm. Sigh. (I'm getting really tired of tagging people here).

How about MetalMom,
NotaGranny,
Monkee,
Lynda,
Miss Ann The Unlinkable,
ICANHASCHEESBURGER,
and you

That was hard. Sigh.

But srsly? I love you all.

Labels: I'm Important Too, Meme

My son had a sleep over last night. It was. . .Interesting.

For example;At one in the morning, they came up wanting me to read them a story. Uhm. Hello? No.

I told them to go back downstairs and read each other a story. So they did. They picked Ghostly Tales for the Campfire. A collection of scary stories to be read in the dead of night around, well, a campfire. Duh.

Last summer we took it to the lake with us and the stories were scary enough that I refused to walk the hundred feet from the tent to the washrooms by myself at night.

(I drove)

Still. No big deal right? Whats a bunch of scary stories when you have a lamp on all night long. Right?

I don't think they counted on the power going out at two (for six fucking hours) nor that the thunder would be rattling the windows hard enough I was afraid they would break. But the lightning was cool. Even they had to agree with that.

So the boys whimpered and whined until three when they finally passed out from exhaustion, flashlights still on.

Me and the husband stayed up until almost four playing cards and eating brownies.

I took pictures. Because when do I not?


And in a Breaking News - Stuperman Update, I asked him to put all the shoes in the closet. He wore each pair into the closet and then took them off. These are my newest pair.
Also. I hear wedding bells. This is CoffeeMom's Daughter. Open mouth kissing. He's advanced for three. Or he watches The Husband and I too much.

Labels: I'm Important Too, Pictures

Labels: I'm Important Too, Pictures

The other night I read post about Avitable and his Manties and I haven't been able to get it out of my head since.

Now, I'm not one hundred percent sure what Manties are, but it brings to mind what we Canadians call "Tighty-Whities". Refer to the link for a photo. And let me warn you to NEVER image search "boys briefs" in Yahoo. (Google is safe enough)

Either way. I keep picturing Avitable in Tighty Whities and lemme tell you, I'm not enjoying it.

For two reasons.

Number one. Guys do not belong in little boy undies. No. Don't argue with me. You know I'm right. It's Just plain Wrong! Embrace your larger self and move up in the world. Introduce your parts to the comfort of The Boxer.

But worst of all? I am reminded of My Husbands vasecotomy whenever I think of grown men in tighty whities.

See the thing is, to make a man happy - any man, you have to admire his tubular appendage on a daily basis and must not, in any circumstance, laugh at him in his underwear.

Ever.

But when the doctor told my husband to make sure he had some briefs on hand for after the surgery becuase the boys would appreciate the extra support, I had to giggle. I couldn't help it!

For some reason The Husband did not let me accompany him to the store to purchase said undies.

And when I walked into the bedroom with a fresh ice pack after his surgery and fell to the floor, tear running down my face, laughing at the sight of his butt encased in bright red Tighty whities...well lets just say he wasn't very pleased with me. For a long time.

In fact, I can assume that if he decides to read this post, he will once again be very unhappy with me.

So Avitable, and all of you guys out there under the mistaken impression that it's OK to wear Manties, Please for the love of God, switch to Boxers.

It makes for a happier marriage.

*Rainbow Man Finally updated his blog
*I will be putting new pics up on the photo blog tonight
*DeeJay Of Simply Sassy has started a special new blogroll for Weekend Bloggers. Please join it! Stalkers work week-ends too!

Labels: I'm Important Too

At around ten O'clock today It occurred to me that it was time to draw cards to see who was the winner in the super awesome shoe contest.

I thought about useing that random.com site thingy, but all that typing?

So I threw all the cards onto the floor, face down and had Stuperman Draw a card from a pile. Then the other two whined that they didn't get to pick a card.

I tried to explain that I only had one prize but they reminded me about the closet full of "stuffs".

They helped me pick out a second and third place.

But not becuase they love you. Because they wanted their turn picking cards.

So out came the video camera. It took six tries to get Stuperman to pick the right card. And by right card I mean The one he picked the first time.

The first time he picked a card I showed it to the camera. oops. I can;t be posting other peoples full names and address. Back down it goes.

Tries two, three, and four he picked a different card.

Try five he picked the right card, I was bright enough to cover the senders name, but for some reason, zoomed in on MY name and address.

FuuuuCK. Back down on the floor.

Try six, he both picked the right card AND I didn't screw up.

Finally

It's tough working with child actors.


can;t you see the video? Click here

Winner of the shoes:

Metal Mom. - Now. About the shoes. If they don't fit, too bad. Have a contest on YOUR blog, or, give them to a friend.

Second and third goes to Simple Rich and Tug. - And I'm not telling what you are getting. But it isn't penis soap. The children picked out two matching items so that - in Blue Boys words :

"Then they don't have to share cus they each gots their own to play with."

So yea. Enjoy the whole not having to share thing.

Also. Thanks to all of you who sent in cards for my sister, and thanks fuck-of-a-lot for signing real names so I haven't a clue who half of you are!

Jerks.

Oh, and. Stuperman, Might have - purely by accident - learned to say "Holy FUCK cat!" this evening when - while sitting on my lap watching "Caturday" videos on YouTube - the cat jumped onto the counter, slid into a glass of water, spilling it all over, before it broke on the floor.

Maybe.

He also might be still awake in his room right now as I type this, singing over and over to himself Holy fuuuuck cat! Hoooooooley fuuuuck caaaaat" which is what might have reminded me to add this last bit to the post.

Labels: I'm Important Too

Do you realize how freaking exciting my life is people? Have you any idea how hard it is to cope with this level of adventure?

Today. The highlight of my day was deciding between a toasted cucumber and mayo sandwich and a slice of banana bread.

Wow. Now there's some grade fucking A blog material right there!

Maybe bullet points would help?

• hmm.
  
• Bff Kissy came over today.
• She brought a Webkinz for Rainbow Man
• That's three hours of internet I will never be able to get back.

Sigh. Whycome everyone BUT me can make bullet points exciting?

Labels: I'm Important Too

..Which is usually dangerous. Do most people have an about me page on their blog? Should I? If people really have a burning desire to learn more about me, why can't they just read my archives? Or! Here's a thought. Become a regular reader and learn through the wondrous thing that is osmosis.

And. If I were, not that I am, but just pretend I was going to make an about me, It's OK if I lie my fingers off, right?

Do people really need to know that I'm the 60 watt not the 120? Because I'm sure I'm not the only mother out there who, upon passing the bedroom door, behind which, her youngest child sleeps, will open the door and wake up the boy becuase she heard a strange noise.

Did that last sentence make any sense? I'm too lazy to go back and read it.

See what happened is this: I was walking back and forth, back and forth from my bedroom to the sewing room with wee little strips of fabric, being ever so careful as to not mix the wee strips of fabric when I heard a strange wheezing sound coming from Stuperman's room.

It was more of a gulpy gasping sound, like he was trying very hard to breath but couldn't quite do it. After carefully laying out the wee strips of fabric int eh sewing room, I opened his door. He is fast asleep. I pried open his eye lid, which is really quite a fun thing to do, so long as the person is deep asleep.

Try it tonight with a loved one.

When I got no response to the eye pry, I felt his forehead, hmm. not hot. He seemed to be breathing fine, so I shut the door and left.

A few trips back and forth back and forth from my room to the sewing room, and i heard the noise again. This time I woke him up. Weird. He's breathing just as well as normal. But now he wants to stay up.

I convince him to go back to bed and am determined to ignore the weird sounds emanating from his room.

Until it happens again, this time louder than ever. I made the husband go check on him this time. Except he never made it all the way to Stuperman's room. He stopped at the dryer and said "This noise?"

"exact- Fuck!"

So sue me. Mixing up a dryer and a baby? It could happen to anyone! I bet Britney Spears has done it a million times!

Labels: I'm Important Too

*mew*

Because I am a girl, my tummy hurts and all I want to do is crawl into my bed and pull the covers over my head.

Unfortunately, before I can do that two things have to be done:

1. Write a post - to which I say fuck it, laugh at us if you want.

2. We had to take the bed apart to do number one. It hasn't been put back together yet.

I stress yet

Labels: I'm Important Too

As if!

The husband And I were just talking about how expensive school supplies have gotten. Now on the school supply list, they don't just list what the kids need to bring, they want us to buy specific brand name items!

But thats not the point. We were talking about glue. White glue to be exact. I owned up to the fact that when I was in grade school I was a regular paste-eater and, if you really want to know, during craft times with the kids, if I get paste on my finger, I will lick it off before I wipe it off.

He said he has never tasted glue.

I call bullshit. What do you say?


Since Friday, I have painted my nails Wal*Mart (yellow), Marine Scene (blue/green), Red October (deep metallic red), 115A (navy blue), Slut Red (uh. Like it sounds), and Mandarin Mantra (orange).

Right now, my nails are naked.

Labels: I'm Important Too

Welcome to My life.

The paintbrush bit my boob. There was a lot of blood.

I might have cried.

Me and my ice pack are busy making sweet, sticky love.

Don't worry. Stage 2 of Project Polka Dot is complete.

Here is a picture. Of Stage 2, not my boob.

Labels: I'm Important Too

About the only thing that I look forward to when I think about the kids going back to school is going to Wal*Mart for Back To School Shopping. We go to Wal*Mart every second Saturday, but it is a fast in and out trip becuase we have so much to do!

Only once or twice a year, do I get to wander around the splendor that is Wal*Mart for as long as it takes; the end of August for school supplies and End of October for Christmas Gifts.

In preparation for tomorrow, when I will spend hours and hours among the screaming and unwashed masses, I did my nails.



You see.

Labels: I'm Important Too, Pictures

...or at least it should be!

Ninety eight and a half years ago, Lynda tagged me with a meme. And becuase we all know how quick I am to respond to things (note to self: reply to yesterdays comments ASAP) I think I deserve a gold star, or at least a cookie for getting to it this fast!



5 People who will be annoyed that you tagged them:

1. Sheila
2. Fracas
3. Tigger
4. I believe
5. Violent Acres

4 things that should go into room 101 and be removed from the face of the earth.

1. Spiders
2. Fat people in spandex
3. Michael Jackson
4. Perez Hilton

3 things people do that make you want to shake them violently.

1. Abuse children
2. Not letting me merge
3. Drink and Drive

2 things you find yourself moaning about.

1. Morning
2. Fucktards who forget to set the coffee timer.

1 thing the above answers tell you about yourself.

1. Naps are good. They make you more tolerant. Except int he morning.

RULES

• Link to the original meme at freelancecynic.com so people know what it’s all about!
• Be as honest as possible, This is about letting people get to know the real you!
• Try not to insult anyone - unless they really deserve it or are very, very ugly!
• Post these rules at the end of every meme!

Labels: I'm Important Too

These are the same photo. I added the line. This photo was taken five hours after he hit his head. The swelling has gone down a considerable amount. As well. It was nearly black at first and is now a light blue.

What do you do when the mom in you comes out and "freaks"? When everyone around you is saying "Oh he will be fine, It's just a bump" But you sit and worry about concussions (his pupils dilate the same) and skull fractures....

Wait. Is that possible? I mean he said his head doesn't hurt, he is acting like himself, if his skull was broken, wouldn't we know? He didn't pass out, nor was he dizzy or nauseated.

His hands were shaking so badly ten minutes later he said that they "sure were hyper" What does that mean? Nothing? Everything?

What happens when the force of everyone makes me keep him home and ignore my instinct to rush him into the nearest city for a Doctor to see him. What do I do if it is serious and something worse happens.

Something I am unable to even type?

Is it just the mom in me panicking? I mean. The other woman, my mother in law had six children and ran a daycare for 18 years. She would know right?

Right?

I'm going to go to bed scared. I just know I will have nightmares. And each time I wake up I will go and check on him.

I am putting off bedtime. It's been five hours since the two boys crashed onto the asphalt trying to catch a Frisbee.

I can't wait for morning. And I hate morning.

I will update.

12Am: knows his name and age, his brothers' names and correctly identifies two fingers.

2 AM: tells me his name and then says if I wake him up again he will be cranky and that no one likes cranky boy.

11:30 AM : verdict. I over reacted. He is fine.

Labels: I'm Important Too, Oh Noes, Pictures

Stage Two of Project Polka Dot was started this evening.

It included me screaming "Your getting it on the wall" and him replying "It's paint. It goes on the fucking wall"

I suppose paint also belongs on my bed, my phone and my carpet?

Fucker.

Oh and I washed the cat today.


Psst: Here is Stage One.

Labels: I'm Important Too, Pictures

For the last three hundred and sixty five days I have been trying to figure out where my Seven Year Itch is.

I still have about an hour left to locate it and put it to use.. but what exactly am I looking for?

Is it a disease?
Uncomfortable woolen socks?
Is it by any chance related to yeast and my personal amusement park?

Some people have told me that the seventh year you are married, you start to wonder if this is the person you really want to spend the rest of your life with.

Well bully for them. I did that the first year I was married. Back when all my baby did was scream. Well thats not true. Sometimes my baby would scream and poop. When I could not figure out a way to leave the baby and keep the man, I decided to stick around. (Turns out they cry way less when you feed them!)

During the past year there were definitely times I got itchy. But. Was that the Seven Year Itch?

And now that year seven is gone, Did I just lose all chance to experience it? Does it come around every seven years or just the once? Can I order it off of eBay? Most importantly, can I return it if I am unsatisfied? (I already checked; there is no return address on the kids.)

In any case.

Labels: I'm Important Too

Well. That was fun.

Obviously you noticed I was gone. Yes, obviously. Don't think for a minute that I don't realize how hard it is for y'all to get through your day without your daily dose of Bluepaintred.

Narcissism at its finest, people!

Side note: Rainbow Man thinks I should start calling myself Purple. He also thinks no one will understand the logic behind that statement. Pfft. He's clever like his daddy, that boy.

So we went camping, in case you couldn't tell from the post below. But it was all very sudden. I think I've mentioned a few times here on BPR that I babysit a little girl. Her mom called me at one on the First, and said she had lined up alternative childcare and we were free to go.

We packed fast, and forgot a few key things, but were on our way by two. YaY!

As I know you are all on the edge of your seats wondering if I managed to solve the disgusting prospect of Bush Coffee dilemma, here is photo evidence that I can rise above all and triumph in the glory that is coffee!

Labels: I'm Important Too, Pictures

Labels: I'm Important Too, Pictures