Wednesday, December 21, 2011

You thought I was joking, huh?

More Shit Nobody Cares About But Me...

Ever since we watched Hall Pass, Frank has been harassing me about adding images to his 'spank bank.'  You know what this means, right??  I'm so not taking Piggy D out of our wedding picture frame AND I'm ordering him a Joey Jordison mask.  He'll wear it.  And he's gonna like it.

This evening when it was time to take out the trash, Frank gleefully carried me to the curb, kicking and screaming.  Something tells me he may meet Evil Christine later tonight.  She'll be delighted- she's been cooped up far too long.

Did I already tell you that I ate all the kid's candy for their stockings?  Gotta go back to Ida Red for Nik L Nips and I sure do hate that...

My Babiest Baby C walked out of his bedroom tonight and said "Hey- I'm gonna shave my balls."  He's 3.  No. Fucking. Idea.

Ya know what I miss?  Liner notes, Pantera and my life before children.  Not in that order.

"Balloon fight on the dining room table all you want guys, but if one of you knocks over my wine, IT'S ON!!!!"

Good Evening and Welcome to this Week's Wine Post

Wrapping Christmas presents is for dirty whores.  I hate it.  I can't make a bow with ribbon.  I can't cover a package without using eleventy thousand pieces of tape.  I can't get the paper off the sticky bows.  I can't curl ribbon without cutting it.  My packages look like they were wrapped by a sightless cat on acid.  (The bad kind of both cat and acid)  Frank KNOWS this and yet year after year we go through the same routine:  I wrap and he makes fun of me for the rest of the year.

This year, it's just more of the same, people.  This is how my wrapping went.  After Frank took the boys out for two measly hours.

1:00     Frank leaves with boys

1:01     Place phone call to Frank to see if he was serious about only being gone two hours.

1:02     Panic because he was serious and I'm already confused.  Put on pink sparkly lipgloss.

1:30     Stop sitting on bed holding lipgloss and staring blindly into space and look for tape.

1:39:    Realize I've been looking for gum, not tape.  Happy to find gum, though.

1:45     Locate 1/4 roll of tape, silently cussing at Colin for being a tape waster.

2:00     Locate scissors.  Locate sparkly silver ribbon.  "Heeeyyyyy ribbon- you're pretty"

2:30     Realize I've been playing with sparkly ribbon for a long time.  Panic again.

3:00     Finish wrapping one present.  Hands stuck together with tape. 

3:10     Hair and makeup check in the bathroom.  Wonder how MAC gets sparkle into Dazzlegloss.  Appreciate sparkly for a moment.
             
3:20     More gum.  Also need coconut water.  Wonder if coconut water is really good for you.

3:25     Google coconut water.  Panic. 

3:40     More presents wrapped.  Notice I'm all tied up with silver sparkly ribbon.  And glitter is everywhere.  Appreciate glitter for a moment.

4:00     Frank and boys home.  20 presents left to wrap. Holy fuckballs. 


I did eventually get all the presents wrapped, but it was after about 175,000 'SQUIRREL' moments.  Just another day in the life...

**UPDATE:  YES I realize he was gone three hours. Cheese and rice, that's the point.

Wednesday, December 14, 2011

This week's wine post...

So, remember how I promised to write better blog posts if you guys sent me some awesome signed music memorabilia shit??  Well...this is it so far.  I've decided to write one post a week AFTER (and only after) I've had what I consider, too much to drink.  I want to add that 'too much to drink' to me means more than two glasses of wine because I'm an amateur.  The reason I've decided to do this is because, believe it or not, I censor myself on here.  I know, right?  But I do.  This is the one blog post where I won't take anything back. ( yikes.)

Ok...a ridiculously large number of people find this blog by googling 'Dj Ashba's Mother'.  I'm NOT Dj Ashba's mother.  I would like to add that while it's certainly funny, he's TWO YEARS younger than I am.  TWO YEARS, people.  It's physically impossible for me to be his mother.  Plus, it's nasty because I love him in an unholy way.  So please stop.  I don't know who his mama is, but I'm guessing she has better things to do than be googled.

Frank thinks I'm trying to murder him by giving him food poisoning.  I, however, have eaten the same thing he has and I feel mostly fine.  Monska's hubby has just eaten the same thing we had for dinner, so let's all keep our fingers crossed that nobody dies and this blog post is never used as an 'exhibit' or 'evidence'.  If it is, can I please count on you to have my back?

I'm staying up late so I can clean my house before the awesome lady who helps me with my housework comes to clean up after me tomorrow.  Please file this under #problemsintheburbs or #stupidassproblems.

I did all of my Christmas shopping on Amazon which means that every day, when the UPS dude comes, I feel like I'm getting a present.  Plus, I actually ordered something for myself every time I ordered something for the kids so I really AM getting a present.  Yaaaay me and don't tell Frank.  Frank reads this religiously??  Oh, fuuuuck.

I broke my stupidly expensive headphones this evening while having a teeny tiny hissy fit.  This means I showed them  because now I don't have the only thing that keeps me sane (music) to keep me sane PLUS I have to buy new stupidly expensive headphones.  Fucking idiot. 

Ok.  That's it for now.  If I have anyting else to say, I promise I'll do it quickly, k??  In the meantime, stop googling Dj Ashba's mom!!

The Baby C's in Star Wars Heaven

Tuesday, December 13, 2011

Thinking about the things we write on our children's hearts...

This morning as the biggest Baby C was getting ready for school, he started a conversation with me that left me a little unsettled.  He said "Mommy, you know that we should eat healthy food MOST of the time.  Like, maybe take one day a year to eat junk food."  I said "Yes, Colin. That's right.  We should try to choose healthy food most of the time, but I think once a year to eat junk food is a little extreme.  That's pretty much all we eat sometimes, though.  Maybe less would be better. What do you think?"  "Yeah- I think less would be better." Long pause.  "Mommy, if I ate less junk food do you think I would lose weight?" That hit me like a ton of bricks in the face.  He's 7.  What on earth have I said around him or allowed to be said around him that makes him think he's anything less than perfect just the way he is??  What's wrong with this picture, that a SEVEN year old child would be concerned with dieting???

Big Baby C is built like Frank.  He's bigger than the average 7 year old- taller, thicker but I love that about him.  He's within the guidelines of 'healthy'- he's not overweight by anyone's standards but his own.  His size came in handy on the football field this year, when he was known around our house as 'the Beast' (his request). Is that what did it?  I tease him about having my big behind, in a very loving way, and tell him when he gets older, the girls are going to love his tushie.  Is that what did it?  We do try to limit the soda and other crap our kids have access to, but are we applying the same rules evenly?  Are we as strict on our other two children? Is that what did it???  Somebody please tell me how we have failed this  
little guy so miserably that what he's worried about at 8:00 in the morning is losing weight?!?!

Big Baby C's heart is enormous- he is so sweet and sensitive.  We have to push him to stand up for himself with some of his friends.  I remember in Kindergarten when one of his friends called him fat-- he was crushed.  His teacher was amazing and tolerated me telling him to wipe a booger on the other kid. (that was the nicest thing I told him to do.  I won't repeat the rest) I saw him self consciously play outside around the other boys in the neighborhood this summer, shirtless, just like all the other boys. I think about all the times I told him to put a shirt on and wonder if somehow I sent the wrong message (I was worried about the sun- he rarely sat still long enough for me to reapply it periodically throughout the day.  I also encouraged him to wear a baseball cap and bug spray, but that doesn't seem to have scarred his soul.)

The good thing about parenting is that every so often, you have a chance to reexamine how you do things- not really a chance for a total 'do over', but a chance to adjust your course. 

This morning, I'm adjusting my course, friends.

Monday, December 12, 2011

Eternal Gray - Never Waits



An AMAZING band! Getting ready to write a blog post about them- they are fucking AMAZING!!!!!

Acey Slade And The Dark Party ~ Sugarcum



LOVING me some Acey Slade- got all my cool stuf this week- will post about it later

Thursday, December 8, 2011

Lamb of God - Ghost Walking (Full Song)(Lyric)

Foo Fighters in SNL (Se 36 Ep 19) - Rope

Foo Fighters Walk Saturday Night Live 2011 04 09 (lyrics)

Happy Birthday, Big Baby C!!

On December 6, 2004  I gave birth to a baby who screamed so loudly and for such a long time, that the nurses had to separate him from the other babies.  This was after 18 1/2 hours of labor, folks. I knew I was in trouble. The big kind.

At his two week check up, I told his nurse that I was surprised I had kept him alive for two weeks because, hello, it was me and I had never even kept a plant alive that long.  His first birthday party was more of a 'I can't believe I kept him alive for an entire year!' party.

I worried his first year away on SIDS, falls down the stairs, mysterious diseases, bear maulings, spider bites and drowning in a teaspoon of water...because someone told me that could happen.  The second year, I worried he was a future mass murderer or an evil genius.  I slept with one eye open if he was around, lest I be pummeled on the head with an encyclopedia.  Because that actually happened.  Somewhere between the second and third year, I found peace in the form of some neighbors and good friends who opened up to me about how hard parenting was for them, too.  My friends and neighbors who have sons were especially kind. 

I took pictures and videos by the boat load- every day was cause for me to dress him in a sweater vest and hat (I know) and trot out the camera.  I have the most adorable pictures of him bare butt naked, too...because that's what mothers do.

This week, he turned 7.  He's no longer the baby who can throw up on command (that's true- if there was something he wanted at the store and we said 'no', he puked.  If he wasn't ready to go to bed, he puked.  So glad he outgrew that.)  He has a big heart- one of the biggest and most generous.  This week I lost (as in dropped) $100 in Target.  The first thing Colin did when I got home was give me all the money he had in his piggy bank.  I've seen him nurture and guide his baby brother far more than I've seen him antagonize him.  (But they ARE brothers...there is definitely some antagonizing)  He's well behaved in school and loves to read.  He's one of the funniest people I know.  He loves country music with a passion.  (I forgive him for that, because it's music of some kind, right?)  He is bright and creative- he is artistic and articulate.He has boundless energy and an iron will.  He gets all of that stuff from me.  Except the country music stuff.  I believe we're all clear on whose side of the gene pool his musical taste swam from.

I hope the next 7 years are as much fun, as joyful and as educational as the last 7.  And I hope the next 7 years go by a little bit slower...

Thursday, December 1, 2011

Worst. Mom. Ever. Part...I can't remember...

Ok, so last night I'm all 'love and be loved' and this morning, before I was even really fully awake, I ruined my philosophy by yelling at my son before he was probably even really fully awake.

You know I'm the first person to admit when I screw up and today, I did it royally.  I'm so NOT the mom who yells at her kids.  I don't want to be, anyway.  I can't stand that woman- she usually looks like she hasn't met a hairbrush EVER and hasn't had a good night's sleep in 7 years.  She may have on fabulous sparkly Ugg's but aside from that, we're as different as night and ummm...later in the night.

The biggest Baby C picks the most inconvenient times to poop- he's done it since he was a baby.  All clean, in jammies, should be asleep??  He's gonna poop.  Shopping in a store with no changing tables?  Poop.  Exhausted mommy just dozing off to sleep?  Poop.  This morning, five minutes before he was supposed to walk out the door?  Poop.  And he made the moment even more inconvenient by using an entire roll of toilet paper and clogging the toilet.  AND, yes of course, there was poop everywhere.

I yelled at him for not using the suggested 'courtesy flush'. I yelled at him for managing to get poop on the ceiling (Probably.  It was everywhere else.  I don't wanna go look and you can't make me).  I yelled at him for continuing his 45 minute monologue on various airsoft machine guns throughout the entire process, without drawing a fucking breath.  I yelled at him for conveniently not being able to see the baby wipes, which were right in front of him in plain sight.  I yelled at him for not using the fart fan and for giving me 'poop hair.'  I think I even yelled at him because I was upset I was yelling at him. Then when he left the house, I yelled at him because he forgot his backpack (in my defense, I had to yell- he was halfway down the driveway.)  The only thing I managed to do right was to apologize and then hug and kiss him goodbye.

The worst part of the whole thing is that I woke up in a great mood- still am.  I did all the yelling while I was happy.  Can you imagine if I was pissed off??

One of my bestest friends, Stace, said to me recently 'the only thing I know for sure about parenting is that we're all fucking up our kids while trying our very best NOT to fuck them up the way our parents did us."  I may be paraphrasing or adding swear words to her actual quote. But that was the gist of it and I think she's brilliant.

Sigh.

Wednesday, November 30, 2011

Adding a little love to the evil lair...



I acquired this picture today and I think it's fitting in two ways:  One, it's below Dj Ashba whom I LOVE in a totally unhealthy way and two, it's the purpose of my life-- to love and be loved.

Yeah, I really do think the meaning of life is that simple.  Plus, I think I'm a fucking genius for figuring it out...well, I'm a genius and so are the 50 million people who figured it out before I did.

If you're friends with me, it's likely that I will eventually jump on you and lick your face because being friends with me is like being friends with a really enthusiastic Golden Retriever puppy.  I will love you and I will tell you I love you a lot.  I will also show you I love you and let's just pray you're a hugger with no need for personal space.  Good thing that I have managed to acquire the best, most understanding friends in addition to a new picture!

To all my friends past, present and future- please know that you are loved today.  A lot.  By me.


Tuesday, November 29, 2011

About the Baby C's and...Christians

The other day, the Baby C's and I were sitting around, just watching movies and eating snacks, with Big J and Consuela's precious little, Miss S.  I must have forgotten my manners for a moment and burped...maybe kind of loudly.  (side note:  I have three sons and a husband who barely qualifies as an adult- I swear I do it in self defense).  Big Baby C looked at me, totally horrified.  "Moooom!"  He said, pointing at Miss S "There are CHRISTIANS in the house!"

Fine.   I'll admit that there's something amiss in his religious education because somehow, he thinks Christians don't burp.

Ok...I lied...

I also ordered this...


I ordered it from Black Victory and it says 'Blood Suckin' Mutha Fucka'
Looks like someone found her Christmas outfit early!!  Plus, if you go to Black Victory, the
description of the t-shirt clearly says 'Makes your boobs look good'...I need all the help I can get!

Acey Slade-She brings down the moon (videoclip)



This is Acey Slade and he's working his way quickly up my list- Acey used to be in some of my favorite bands, por exemplo Murderdolls, Dope and Wednesday 13. I think he played in Amen, too but I don't know if it was the same time Piggy D was there or not. Anyway, now Acey plays bass for Joan Jett- and he frickin' rocks!! Absolutely love him! My latest round of goodies for my evil lair are Acey's- I'm sad that he won't be able to actually sign anything to me and make me his 'Favorite Rock Star Mom' a la Mr. Matt Montgomery, but it doesn't matter. I'm so stoked I'm getting some new stuff!!!!!!

One last picture of the birthday boy...

My nephew, Daxasaurus

Happy Birthday, dear Daxarooneytooney!

Today, my oldest nephew turns 20.  Which sounds impossible, what with me being only 28 and all.  But while I lie about my age occassionally, his birth certificate does not- he's 20, folks.  Yikes!

I was the first person to hold Precious Nephew, after Sweet Sister and her hubby (my mother will argue this point with me-- but Sweet Sister will vouch- I was first.)  Because I was childless through the majority of his life so far, I've been able to spend a lot of time with him and we have a bond that extends into the 'Mommysister' category- I love him with all my heart and soul- he is simply the best.

Dax:  if you're reading this, first, shame on you because this blog is nasty and second-- I wish you the very happiest of Happy Birthdays!!!  I LOVE YOU!!!!!!!!!!!

Wednesday, November 23, 2011

Lamb of God - Set To Fail



This Thanksgiving, I'm most thankful for metal!

Lamb of God - Redneck



THE SHIT!!!!!!!!!!!

Clutch - Careful with that mic



Head over heels for these guys!

I found someone new to love...

and it's the best feeling EVER!  Sometimes I ask my friends for suggestions when it comes time to add music to my ipod- there's always something good out there I haven't heard of.  Probably because I have no idea where to go to listen for new stuff-  I mean the radio stations here don't really play much music (from what I can tell, anyway- the Baby C's have to watch Shrek on endless repeat every single time we get in the car)  so I definitely need help now and again.  This time when I asked, I scored BIG!

One of the things I love most in life is catching a band I've never heard of who have actually been around for a while- that's very hard for me to do, but it makes me super duper happy because then I have LOTS of new stuff to listen to all at once.  I'm soooo blissful right now because one of my awesome friends suggested I listen to a band called Clutch.  I believe we're a match made in heaven.  Or hell.  Either way, I'm happy.

My friend suggested a song called 'Rock and Roll Outlaw' and it's my new theme song- it's on endless repeat on my ipod...which makes me a lot like my kids apparently...which is fucked up.  And now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go spend some of Frank's hard earned money on Clutch merch. 

CLUTCH- Rock&Roll Outlaw



Everyone needs a theme song...

Monday, November 21, 2011

Eternal Gray - Black Prophecy (HQ)



Badass!!!!

My New Office

I'm writing this from my brand new almost finished amazing office- or as I like to refer to it, my evil lair.  It's fucking unbelievable.  And it looks like I have an unhealthy obsession with Piggy D- exactly how I planned it! 

I'll be posting pictures as soon as it's 100% done after I (I = my neighbor J) hang the last few items. That reminds me- my friends painted the room for me and my neighbor/brother J decorated the hell out of it.  It's so much better than I ever could have imagined!  A very, very big hug and thank you to everyone who helped!!!!  I'll be getting no hugs from myself- I did practically nothing.

J had an awesome idea to frame a record- my first, if I can find a copy.  Now I'm on the hunt for a copy of 'Hotter Than Hell' by Kiss.  (YES, that was really my first record.  YES I got it for my 6th birthday- I picked it because of the swear word in the title.  And YES I was really in the KISS Army.  Ask Gene- he'll  back me up)

Friday, November 18, 2011

Seether - Remedy



I'm feeling soooo Seether today

Deer Hunting Can Bite Me

Ok folks, it's November and that just means one thing around here- it's time to hunt and kill deer, of course!  Frank told me that deer season is open until July or August this year, but I'm keeping my eye on him- I believe it's over much, much earlier...like May.  I believe this is Frank's way of taking a nice little vacation without us in a lovely place called 'Deer Camp'.  I think 'Deer Camp' translates to 'disco ball and strippers',  I'm not really sure but my problem is that while Frank is out frolicking in the woods, I'm home with the Baby C's...ALONE!  Tonight they invented a new game called 'Mommy in the Headlights'- this means that they both somehow conveniently found really bright lasers or lights and they have been lurking around corners waiting for me to walk by so they can blind the shit out of me.  It's not my fault that I'm all 'SQUIRRELL!' when it comes to bright lights.  They've tripped me twice. Anyway, I think it's perfect practice for next deer season when the Baby C's WILL be going with Frank.  By force, if necessary.

So when Frank's out of town...I don't usually do jack, but this time I'm having a party.  In typical Christine style, I have no idea who is coming, what we're going to eat or where everyone is going to sleep.  I Do know that my two little heathens will be at my neighbor's house all night (God Bless you Judy- May the force be with you, I have the name and telephone number of a good Priest and so on).  My friend or friends and I are going to paint my office and get ready to hang up all of my awesome rock star goodies while having a very responsible and age appropriate slumber party with tons of booze.  I haven't bought anything but pajamas. And that's the ONE thing I did NOT need!  (Not because we aren't going to wear them you pervs, because I own 5 million pairs of pajamas)  I have no idea what I need to paint a room, but fuck it. The party is happening anyway.  (Side note: Who the hell let ME be responsible for planning my own party???)

I'll let you know how it goes!

Foo Fighters w/ Joan Jett - "Bad Reputation" 11/15/2011 Letterman



Two things: Now I gotta put Joan Jett on my list AND wish Acey Slade would have been playing bass

All I Want For Christmas is PIGGY D!

Love Him in a Very Morally Questionable Way


Pictures from Live Image Assassins (I'm almost positive)

Tool - Stinkfist

Korn Feat. Skrillex - 'Get Up' music video



I know I said I finally found music I was too old for, referring to Skrillex...but I LOVE this song!

Friday, November 11, 2011

My AWESOME new shirt!

This is the end of the week of bad moods...please...

It's not just me, folks- every child I know, every adult I know, probably even my dog although she's heavily medicated with happy pills, has been out of sorts-  it's been a shitty week.  I'm declaring it over and done today because I'm ruining my botox.  Yes, if you're really pissed, you can frown through minor facial paralysis.

Yesterday, as I attempted to empty my little's potty chair, I tripped and...well, you know what happened.  That makes me sound really clumsy, but in reality I can't see my feet and two of the littles were hanging on my ankles. (please go ahead and have your moment laughing at me- if you're reading this, I already know your maturity level. And it's low.  Very, very low.  I can't see my feet when I'm standing straight up AND I had pee all over the bathroom. Get it all out of your system.)

In addition,  this week I have almost set myself on fire...twice.

I also bought a sparkly bear hat that turned out to be a sparkly beaver hat.  Now, I'm the lady who wears the sparkly beaver hat.  That's just fucked up.

But today something TOTALLY FANFREAKINTASTIC happened.  If you know me in real life, you know that my FAVORITE store in the whole wide world is Ida Red- it's the former home of a picture frame I almost stole once. (That's a true story- it's made from the old wood floor of Cain's Ballroom.  I asked the guy at the register if he would chase me if I put the picture frame on my head and ran out of the store.  He said I was a terrible thief and that he WOULD chase me and could actually catch me because I looked like a very slow runner and also he used to be some kind of track running dude.  I think he's secretly Ida Red's security ninja, but he has awesome guy hair and he's super sweet so he's forgiven)   I own almost every shirt, one fabulous red necklace that looks like a rosary, all the green apple Zotz and one very kick ass picture frame from Ida Red.  It's my happy place and Stace and I try to go each and every Friday.

The manager there is an absolute doll- I LOVE her to pieces!!  (She has awesome hair, too...I'm starting to wonder if it's a job requirement or something) One time, I confessed my love of all things Ida Red and wrote a note on their Facebook wall- I told Awesome Haired Manager that I thought she and her store were wonderful.  She told me that little gesture made her day- making her day made my day- it's funny how that works.

So today Stace and I made our usual journey to Ida Red- (it was a race to see who could get to the green apple Zotz first...I won.  I show no mercy when it comes to my Zotz) I was happy to see Awesome Haired Manager and Security Ninja Dude.  I was in the process of asking if they could point me in the direction of an Ida Red shirt when Awesome Haired Manager said she had a gift for me.  That alone made my day, but what's even better is that my gift was a fantastically comfortable and gorgeous 'I Heart Ida Red' shirt!  I jumped up and down and may have screamed out of sheer joy.  I'm sorry if I hurt anyone with the jumping or screaming. I couldn't help myself- it's the best t shirt EVER!!!!

I love sharing the places I love with other people- if you're ever in Tulsa or if you live in Tulsa but have never been or if you have been but have not been recently OR even if you're an Ida Red junkie like I am- go check them out!  They're at 3336 S. Peoria Avenue- which is in the Brookside area of town- there are also some great places to eat around there- I suggest you make an afternoon of it!  Tell them the crazy lady who buys all the green apple Zotz sent you!

Thursday, November 10, 2011

Rob Zombie Sick Bubble Gum Live Tulsa

Eternal Gray - Blind Messiah (HQ)

I absolutely love this band and this song is fucking AWESOME!

The List...Amended

I'm really starting to get excited about seeing Wednesday 13 in January- I have the two bravest friends in the world for going with me...even though I might have accidentally told them we were going to hear the Mormon Tabernacle Choir instead.  They may be puzzled, briefly, regarding the fact that I'll be wearing my Sally costume, but they're both super smart so I'm sure they'll catch on quickly. And they'll be delighted!  (If not,  I'm filling them full of alcohol.  Fuck it.  I'm doing that regardless)

I was sitting here sad as can be because one of my favorite drummers in the world, Ben Graves, isn't playing with him.  Then I started missing Acey Slade.  Then Eric Griffin.  THEN it dawned on me- remember my very first piece of rock memorabilia??  The early Murderdolls??  Signed by Wednesday and Joey??  Ben and Eric are so in that picture!!  (Acey is missing- doesn't matter.  I love him anyway)  That's the picture that started it all for me and I'm starting to amass quite the impressive collection!  Anyway, I was just feeling a little nostalgic for 2002, so I decided to add Ben, Acey and Eric to my official list...right under Matt.  For now.  I'm fickle.

Murderdolls grave robbing U.S.A Big day out

Monska and Stace going with me to see Wednesday 13 this January (shhh! Don't show them the video- they think we're going to hear'holiday music'...muaaahahaahaa) How cool would it be if Ben Graves, Acey Slade and Eric Griffin were with him (and Joey Jordison-- he goes without saying) Gonna add Ben, Acey and Eric to My Official List..that list is starting to look better and better!

More Pictures!




Corbin throwing rocks at Ryan's junk


With the very best dog in the world, Gracie

This is when Frank broke my rib or my boob...we still can't decide

The boys are laughing because Frank put a giant, very cold blob of mud down my shirt.  And on my boob.


No love for the girl with the muddy boob

It seems we had a theme that day...and that theme was boobs.  Fits our family like a glove.

Wednesday, November 9, 2011

I Actually Think I Taught My Neighbor's Son Something Useful...By Accident

You already know this has been and is continuing to be a grouchy week for me.  I feel a little out of sorts and because this feeling is so unimaginable for me (yeah, right) I decided that 'Wine Friday' is now 'Wine Wednesday'.  The moment the kids and Frank hit the hay at 8, I hit the bottle of vino. Two glasses in, my neighbor called n a panic "Can you help my son with his poetry class?  He's behind on some homework and the teacher has given him TONIGHT to catch up!"  I was honest and told her I was into the wine and therefore could make no promises about the quality of such poetry, but if she didn't mind her son being around a wino, please send him over.

I think we did a tremendous job (I think we wrote 5 or 6 poems) and except for the poem I helped him write about...ummmm...bodily functions, I think we did a great job.  We were discussing the finer points of poetry and I tried to relate it to something all pre teen/teen/grown assed men can relate to:  impressing women.

I told him if he could write a girl a poem, or even better, a song, he could probably have any girl he wanted.  Especially the song part.  I told him a story from my youth- 17 to be exact- when a guitar player friend of mine wrote a song for me.  I will never forget it.  I don't even know if it had words, but the point was he wrote it for ME.  I was on cloud 9.  My neighbor's son told me a couple of stories about boys in his school writing girls poems or songs and the boys?  Well, they almost always ended up with the girls.  He left my house pen and paper in hand with a gleam in his eye and a newfound appreciation for the written word. 

Dear Mr. and Mrs. K: you're welcome!  But I should also say I'm sorry for the poem about farting.  He probably should NOT use that one to try to get a girl!

Tuesday, November 8, 2011

My MFBFF

I'm in the process of posting my recent family pictures, so I thought I would take a moment to tell you about how amazing our photographer is.  He's a close friend of mine, his wife is equally amazing and his kids are totally perfect and precious.  I met Ryan when I worked at a preschool his son, Ayden, attended.  Long story short, fell in love with his son (how could you not?!?!  He's the greatest thing since sliced bread...I can't wait to get my hands on Ryan's new baby.  I feel that inserting evil laughter here would be inappropriate...like I'm going to bribe him into loving me with endless suckers and Popsicles or something...as if!)  Anyway, when the school closed, I practically forced Ryan to let me continue taking care of Ayden.  That's when I feel like I really got to know his whole family and let me tell you I adore all of them- even his mom and dad ROCK!!  Ryan is really funny and we tease him...mercilessly, really, about being 'one of the girls' and he's a great sport.  We also tease him about what a giant nerd he is, but we do it lovingly.  And well, he IS a giant nerd.  But he's also an incredibly gifted photographer- I mean he made my whole family look good at the EXACT SAME TIME, too.  So obviously he's into voodoo, too (or maybe photo shop.  I don't care- I love the pictures that much!)

Anyway he tolerated our shenanigans so well and he really encouraged my kids to be themselves- even if it meant enduring rocks being lobbed at his manhood by Demon.  He put up with my totally bizarre idea of having a mud fight in my backyard.  He put up with me bitching constantly because I didn't have an entourage (yet...it's in the works) and my constant reminder "young and thin, Ryan- make me look young AND thin!"  The picture taking process felt like we were hanging around with my best friend, doing our own goofy thing and it just happened to get captured on film.  He is the BEST and if you don't use him for your own family pictures, you're insane.

Oh- he hates the term 'BFF' (also the word 'panties'- he's horrified if we accidentally refer to his son's under wear as 'panties.  I promised I would include that in my blog post, btw)  Anyway, once I was teasing him about being his BFF and he countered with 'you're my MFBFF!'  I think we all know what that means-  it means that his family is stuck with my family forever. That's the kindest thing anyone has ever said to me.  If I had a heart, I might get teary right now.  Thank God I'm heartless.

Foo Fighters - Everlong - BOK Center - Tulsa, OK - May 17, 2011

I post this song all the time...it's my very favorite Foo Fighters song and I can't get it out of my head...and I LIKE that!! :)

The Gorgeous Children I'm Trying So Hard Not To Mess Up







How To Mess With Your Kids' Minds...Just a Little

I'm uncharacteristically grumpy today, mi amigos (Monska is teaching me Spanish...I'm getting smarter by the minute over here).  I don't know why.  Maybe it's the earthquakes that we've had in Oklafuckinghoma, of all places.  Maybe it's the rain, I don't know.  All I know is that when Corbin dragged me into the kitchen (for like, the eleventy hundreth time) this morning to stand absent mindedly in front of the open freezer so he could list all of the things he could NOT have for breakfast, I snapped.  Not 'News at 5 snapped'- just 'Christine snapped'. Which means that Evil Christine came out to play with Corbin for a minute (my kids LOVE Evil Christine because she is usually a lot more fun than regular Christine.  Evil Christine made them yellow snow ice cream.  They love that kind of shit.)  Anyway, right around that time my coffee pot started making a weirdly loud hissing noise.  I don't know why.  Maybe it was chastising me for standing there with the fucking freezer door wide open while it was trying to keep my coffee hot?  Anyway I seized the opportunity with both hands.  I stopped, wide eyed and looked at Corbin, totally horrified.  "What have you done to piss the coffee pot off?!?!  Oh my Lord, I'm scared to death- what did YOU DO????????"  I yelled the last part in terror.  He closed the freezer door and ran like hell to the bedroom.  No more freezer gazing!  Ha!  Today, I won my friends.

Unless I need him to fetch me a Popsicle later.  Fuck.

Thursday, November 3, 2011

Today...

Now, knee deep into a bottle of wine, I have decided I will share with you the horror that was today- this afternoon, to be specific.

I've often bitched about having little boys and how disgusting they are, but today I reached a new low.  And they reached a new high.  Parenting is fucked up like that.

While two of my littles were being picked up, the eldest Baby C ran into our house yelling "he pooped on the trampoline!!  And then he took his diaper off!  And now there's POOP everywhere!"  There was little doubt who 'he' was- you know him as the babiest Baby C- or as we lovingly call him 'Demon'.  In case I was unsure of his identity, in walked the babiest of them all naked...except for a giant piece of poop hanging out of his behind.  It was all over his leg, too, I'm not gonna lie.  Anyway, the look on his face said it all:

 'I COULD NOT BE MORE PROUD OF MYSELF FOR SHITTING ON THE TRAMPOLINE AND NOW YOU GOTTA CATCH ME IF YOU WANT TO CLEAN ME UP.  BEST OF LUCK TO YOU!'

My kind parents made noises like 'oh, we need to go now' and 'ok...I can see you're busy' but what they meant was "Hallefuckinglujah it isn't my kid this time!  Woo-hoo!'  I understand their joy and I'll admit, I would feel the same way.  However, because this was MY child in MY freshly cleaned house...I didn't say a lot.  I just silently cleaned him up and promptly made plans for a sitter so I could go to Target, or as I like to call it 'The Mother Ship' and bit my tongue.  I also thanked the me of yesterday for having the forethought to buy two bottles of wine instead of the usual one.  All of this just days after I thought to myself 'I'm getting better at this motherhood thing.  I'm efficient and prepared.  I'm patient and kind.  I got this.'  Yeah, right.

Later after I returned, the babiest baby, belly full of dinner, took of his shoes as we readied for bed and said 'Mommy-  I your hero.'  Fuck.  Yes.  Yes, he is.

Wednesday, October 19, 2011

The Last Straw

Ok...so something happened yesterday that...I guess if it happened to be someone else's kid (yours, for example) I would think it was funny-  really, really funny.  And to tell you the whole truth, I did laugh.  Because I just was NOT expecting it but...

During outside play yesterday, one of my littles slipped into my house and locked the back door.  This is not an unusual occurrence, so I had a plan of action, but the way I found out the door was locked was because my sweet Baby C (His nickname is 'Demon'.  The 'sweet' part might be pushing it), the littlest of them all, took the pacifier out of his mouth, looked me right in the eye and said very clearly "Someone locked the fucking door."

Followed by "Hey, mom the fucking door is locked."  That's just the icing on the cake folks- the night before last he let loose with a string of swear words.  Yes.  He knows enough to make a string.

I know.  Worst. Mom. Ever.  So I'm going to enlist your help, if you know me in real life.  If you don't, just skip this next part and go on about your day with the satisfaction of knowing that you're a better parent than I am.  But if you know me in real life and you hear me say a swear word, please punch me in the arm or if you hit really hard, make me give you a dollar.  (Frank:  you're disqualified from punching me or taking my money because I can predict exactly what would happen:  you'll goad me into swearing and then gleefully punch the shit out of me or take all of my money for 'swearing back pay.')  Also, I need to be able to WRITE swear words so anything that is written, either on here or in real life doesn't count.  Also, if I have PMS, sometimes swearing is the only thing that keeps me from murdering people, so just make sure I don't do it around my kids.  I already don't do it around other people's kids, so this should be a breeze, right??

Also, please remember I bruise like a fucking peach and I don't have a shitload of money. 

This may be harder than I thought...

Monday, October 17, 2011

The List (Official)

Ok...all the debating is over.  I've decided on my final list and now I'm going to share it with you.  This is NOT a list of my favorite musicians- we all know what this list is about.  There is a content warning on my blog, for Pete's sake!  AND before anybody yips about how rude this is to do to Frank, let me just tell you he has his OWN list- and it begins and ends with Carrie Underwood.  He did not give his list much thought.  I however, did.

1.  Matt Montgomery- because I'm his favorite rock star mom. Ya heard me FAVORITE.  It's that easy folks.  Actually, it reminds me of this time when I watched a documentary on HBO about how mean pig farmers were to their livestock.  It disgusted me so badly that I swore off of pig for about two days.  Then I caved because pigs are delicious.  So now you know- Piggy D is delicious and I can't ever veer far away for long.  That's all I have to say about that.  Except that I've been a fan of his for years so he had to be number one.  Plus he has awesome guy hair and I KNOW he smells like cotton candy and sunshine.  Plus we had a moment (I KNOW, ok, but I'm going to have Wenifer write a note because she witnessed the whole thing.  And NO it doesn't matter if he knows me from a rat's ass- this is ALL about me.  You should be used to this by now.)

2.  Dj Ashba- Oh, the debate between numbers one and two- I wish there could be a tie.  But I think second place on my list is a pretty good place to end up.  He is so gorgeous it's impossible to look at him for a long time without becoming cross eyed.  Plus, he signed an entire poster to me, too.  (See??  Easy cheesy!)  He's...so gorgeous that I can't think of words to describe it.  Me, chatty chatterton at a loss for words.  Imagine!  But seriously, he has the looks thing plus he seems like he's really funny and down to earth.  I'm sure he smells delicious, too.

3.  Joey Jordison- totally love this guy but never noticed him til he started playing guitar (Note:  most of my favorite musicians are drummers...this is a different list)  He's sinister (love), wears a mask (scares me so love that, too) and he plays drums like a demon on speed.  Maybe he is, I don't care, the point is, he's gorgeous, too.  Plus, without the make up, he looks like a regular guy...like, from Iowa or somewhere.  Plus his charisma gets me.  He seems like he's a cocky little mess and I love him for that!

4.  Dave Grohl- Please don't yell at me, but I hated Nirvana.  I wasn't a huge fan of Dave's until this past year when I saw the Foo Fighters live. Now, I'm a goner.  I would climb him like a tree.  If he's tall.  Otherwise, I'd climb him like a shrub, which still sounds fun.  When I saw the documentary of the making of their last record, there's a scene where his daughter comes in to tell him it's time to go swimming while he was in the middle of recording.  I expected him to act like an asshole.  All he did was laugh.  And then take his daughter swimming.  Swoon.  Plus, live and in person, he is dreamy times a thousand.

5.  Wednesday 13-  If you mix Peter Criss and Eddie Munster in a blender, it would be Wednesday 13.  Except, Wednesday sings and as far as I know, he doesn't play the drums, but if he does that just proves my point- I prefer a little 'creepy' (rock star creepy, not dude at Quick Trip creepy) and he's exactly the right amount.  Plus, he's the ONLY guy I know of who looks good without eyebrows.  Also seems really funny (from the 'Mad Manager' videos. From a lot of videos.  He's campy and I'm all over it)

How Having Sons Turned Me Into a Dude...Kind Of

Anyone who knew me BBC (Before the Baby C's) knows first hand that I'm the girliest girl in the world.  I have daytime perfume and bedtime perfume.  My favorite color is sparkly followed by pink.  I occasionally wear bows in my hair...and I think it rocks!  I own a tutu (yes, it's for an adult)The first time my hubby took me to an OU game, I asked him when someone was going to hit a home run (that isn't a lie- ask him. He loves to tell the story)  But I've noticed lately that something inside me is...slipping toward the dark side.

I use the term 'ball's out' liberally in conversation. And I'm aware it's referring to testicles.  I also say 'jerking off' as in 'stop jerking off and get in the car!'  I barely bat an eye when the oldest Baby C does his Ace Ventura 'Let me asssssk you a question' routine buck naked, legs behind his head.  I can burp the alphabet (I know, I know...really classy but that one was in self defense...it's a long story.)  I've had to say 'Wash your penis and your butt and also your face.  But wash your face FIRST' so much that it's an automatic response whenever one of my children (or my husband- I'm not gonna lie) gets in the bath.  I'm no longer afraid of balls flying at my face.  Yeah- you heard me BALLS!  I can't say 'pick up your balls' or anything else that even remotely sounds dirty even when it isn't because it makes me have a case of church giggles.  (That might be because I'm extremely immature.)  It makes sense to me that the babiest Baby C needs a cheerio to pee on in the potty because I 'get' that men need targets. 

Nothing takes the 'girl' out of you faster than watching your son play football. You WILL yell 'Rip his heart out!  Eat it while it's still beating!' Of course then  there's the embarrassment of having another parent point out that it's just practice and you're encouraging the cannibalism of his own teammates, but that's irrelevant.  The point is, having boys around makes you more aggressive, too.  I've wrestled my way through cooking dinner (I can soooo shoot for the knees AND cook spaghetti- the kids have weak knees- they go down like flies).  I've wrestled my way through the grocery store, doctor's appointments and car trips.  I fear nothing! 

But I really love all of the things it has taught me about boys.  Men, too of course.  I love how loving my sons has made me love my husband more.  I feel like I understand so much more about men's needs than I used to- men want to kill something, blow something up or wrestle.  Then, they want a sandwich.  They may also want to start a fire. (if they're a pyro- the babiest Baby C is so a pyro...I'll let you know how that one turns out)

The point I'm trying to make here is about tolerance, my friends- boys need an awful lot of it!

Wednesday, September 21, 2011

Piggy D - 1975



Ok...so every new song he releases is my favorite...they really just keep getting better and better!

My Children Are Probably Going to Kill Me Someday, But What Can You Do About It?

The other day, my babiest Baby C and his P.I.C., Miss M were having a tug of war over Corbin's Woody (from Toy Story, you pervs) doll.  I did the right thing and made him give it to her because she's a girl and that's just the way things work so he may as well get used to it now.  What did he do??

He picked up a machine gun and shot me...twice.  Now, I know some of you don't allow little boys to play with guns and that's fine but let me tell you a secret:  they're making guns out of their fingers, sticks and their penises every time you turn your back.  It's in their dna.

Because my littlest little is so atttached to me, I figured if I played dead- real dead, because I am an actress, people, that he would feel bad and stop.  This is how the conversation went after he shot me.  I need to tell you quickly that they still babble incoherently, so the things I infer for myself, I'll write like this.

Miss M:  You shot you Mommy, Torvin?

Baby C:  Yes.  I'll shoot any bitch who messes with my Woody doll.

Miss M:  You shot you Mommy, Torvin.

Baby C:  She dead.  Give me my fucking Woody doll.

Miss M:  Here's your Woody, Torvin. (giving doll back to my son)


Not once was the little bugger concerned that I might actually be dead.  He shot me with a machine gun, folks.  From time to time, it occurs to me that I may have gone slightly wrong somewhere while raising them...I think it was somewhere between The Wiggles and Yo Gabba Gabba.

Monday, September 19, 2011


Waiting for my tour pack sucked...

Luckily, I have no idea how it got here so fast, but...



Yes.  I took my wedding picture out of this frame to put PD in- I couldn't help myself. 
 That is just one of the cool things my order contained- I am in PD heaven today AND he was faster than Dj Ashba which is saying a lot!  Plus, he signed my picture to 'My favorite rock star mom' so, that means out of all of them, I am his very favorite.  There may only be one or two others...or maybe none..but it doesn't matter because I'm his favorite.

I do however have serious doubts that the shirt contained in the pack was worn because it was 113 degrees here, there were WALLS of pyro and the shirt doesn't smell like anything but new.  I had a virtual 'smell the shirt' party at my house today and my friends and I decided several things.  One- maybe it WAS new and he was embarassed of how much he sweated here and didn't want to send me a crunchy shirt or two - (my favorite) he smells really, really good, (like sunshine and candy) therefore no sweat.  Or three- he just sends out new ones because really, who but me would smell the armpits and the belly button area of an allegedly used shirt?  Besided as one of my dear male friends pointed out "Don't you think HE thinks it's weird that YOU want to smell his sweaty shirt??"  Touche', Ryan, touche'.  One of my neighbors suggested that I ask for a pair of his used undies so I can compare, but I believe that would mark me of the off the 'slightly crazy' list and move me onto the 'call 911' list forever. 

Anyway I don't give a rats arse if it's new or not because it's going to look badass in my office!!!!

Plus, now he's back on HWFI with me .  He totally deserves a break!

Something else about raising boys...

First of all, I promised Colin I would NOT put this story on Facebook...so today I'm teaching him  about a little something called a 'white lie'.  But I also had to teach him what a 'courtesy flush' is and how to use a plunger, so I figure we're even.

This is a little piece of  wisdom I imparted upon my oldest Baby C this am:

Colin:(from bathroom):  Wow, Mom! I'm full of poop today!

Me:  Mmmmm...ok. (thinking about Frank for a moment) Perhaps a courtesy flush, son??

Colin:  What's a courtesy flush and I have poop on my hands.

Me:  A courtesy flush is when you flush in the middle of a poop so you don't have to use a little something called a 'plunger' and you need to wash your hands with soap.  This is why you always wash your hands with SOAP after you poop- there might be some poop on your hands that you don't see.  Then, what if you go and eat a sandwich?

Colin:  Oh, Mommy!  Then I would be eating a poop sandwich!  That would be hilarious!   And awesome!  My friends would be all 'ewwwww' and I'd be all 'no, it's cool- I like poop sandwiches...'

I didn't really know what to say after that so I just showed him how to use a plunger in silence.  This is one of those times, I really, really thing Frank would have done a better job at teaching our children something because I somehow made eating a shit sandwich sound cool.

Sunday, September 18, 2011

Please add this to the reasons why you don't want kids

I haven't showered or peed without an audience since 2004. 

The youngest of my Baby C's recently began a habit of building  a wall out of toilet paper so he can hang on my neck while I do my bathroom business. Children are immune to the smell of their own poop and their parents poop, apparently, because he insists on shutting the door and turning off the fart fan every single time, too.

 I also told him that he's getting too big for me to carry around the house while I'm doing stuff.  I said if he could hang on my back all by himself, he could hang there all day if he wanted.  Now, I feel like I have a baby spider monkey because he can fucking do it, people!  That should be a really good lesson if you ignore my advice and have a little bugger anyway- never challenge them to do something you think is impossible just so they'll give you a minute of peace- because all babies are geniuses of some kind.

They'll also call you on all of your bullshit.  I mean all of it.  Today Corbin drew all over his legs with an ink pen.  AFTER I told him at least 7,000 times to stop.  When I told him he was making a huge mess AND he looked goofy, wanna know what he did?  He turned my wrist over and showed me my very own goofy mess- my brand new tattoo.

Saturday, September 17, 2011

Guns N' Roses - guitar solo by DJ Ashba - Live In Osaka, Japan 12/16/09

Another Reason You Don't Want Kids

You don't want kids because they're a total pain in the ass, people.  If you have some already, find someone to give them away to.  If you don't have kids, borrow the kids I just mentioned- it's a win-win.

Recently my three year old has decided that before every diaper change, he is going to take off running around the house while I frantically chase after him, diapers and wipes in hand, until I finally corner him in some random room, usually under somebody's bed.  Then I drag him out, laughing like a deranged hyena (him, not me.  Just wanted to clarify.) while he karate kicks the shit out of me until I get the diaper changed.  That's just for a diaper with pee pee in it.  If it's poop, it's worse.  Today, my friends, he has the trots. 

If you're not familiar with the term 'diaper blow out', you don't want to be.  But just in the interest of convincing you how much you really, truly do NOT want children, I'm going to tell you.  It's when diarrhea leaks out of their diaper...everywhere.  They happen in Wal-Mart, church, family vacations, the Myer's Duren Harley Store in Tulsa, Ok (it happened 6 years ago- I guarantee they still remember it.  It had leaked up Colin's back and onto Frank.  Frank had to wash his hands so I'll give you one guess who had to handle the unholy mess in the bathroom)

Corbin had a diaper blow out this evening, but I'm no amateur-  I sneak the diaper rash cream onto a finger, cleverly hiding it behind the diaper and box of wipes and proceed to chase him around the house.  The first thing I did was run head first into the open cabinet (forgot to close it while trying to hide diaper rash cream- he HATES it) and bust my forehead open.  Now I'm wiping blood from my eyes as I try to locate the little shit before he gets...well, shit, all over the entire house.  When I finally wrestled him to the ground and finished he looked at me and said "Mommy! You're hurt!  I kiss your forehead!"  I'm a big softie folks, so I leaned in for the sweet kiss.  He took a closer look and patted me on the head saying "You gross. I give you hug instead."

Fuck it.  I'm hitting the rum early tonight, folks!

Friday, September 16, 2011

What Pregnancy and Aging do to Men's Bodies...

I sooo did not forget about men's bodies when I wrote my post about post pregnancy vaginas- I was just saving it.  Because it totally deserves a post of its very own. 

It's a widely known fact that men gain weight while their wives are pregnant.  It just happens.  Wife wants to eat two fast food breakfasts in a row (I couldn't help it- McDonald's and Chick Fil A have AWESOME breakfasts) and hubby goes along to drive because wife needs to eat the first breakfast before they get the second because if she doesn't, she'll either puke all over God and everybody or kill God and everybody.  He ends up eating two fast food breakfasts, too.

But what is NOT a widely known fact is that God puts men and women on equal footing when it comes to unattractive aging genitals:  they're called old man testicles.  Please feel free to Google them.

Piggy D Tour Pack from Oklahoma ...

...is headed my way! No way!  I just ordered it this week and it's already on the way to my sweet little hands...I think that's even faster than the poster I ordered from Dj Ashba, but we'll see how the postal service performs. 
The tour pack is courtesy of my darling hubby who said "For the love of God, you're going to keep asking me about it over and over until I give in and say 'yes' aren't you?" which I took to mean "Order it today!  Put it on the credit card!  You're so pretty and I think you may have lost weight!" (Because that is how you translate husband talk and it isn't  called 'fudging' it's called 'marriage' or as I like to refer to it 'happy wife, happy life.'  Stay tuned.  I know loads of shit about marriage.)
The tour pack contains a shirt he wore onstage in the Oklahoma show (I'm probably almost 100% sure it's the one he was wearing when we had 'our moment'.) 
AND
1 Set of Used Bass Strings From The Show
2 PD Limited Edition Guitar Picks
1 Personalized Signed 8x10 of Piggy D...naked (ok, I'm sure he's fully clothed. Just checking to see if you're listening)
1 Sticker
1 "Skunky D." Plush Toy with button
1 Key chain
1 Button Set (3)
1 Pocket Mirror


I asked the wonderfully helpful Brie at Black Victory to have him sign the picture to "Christine, the most beautiful woman in the world"  or "Christine, I can't believe you married Frank when you could have had me" or the most likely of choices, "Christine."  Yeah.  I know.  I'm extremely positive it will be made out to "Christine" and I'm ok with that.  I'm also extremely positive that the next time he's in town that the big burly security dudes will be made aware of 'a possible security threat who goes by the name "Christine."  There may be some kind of restraining order, too, I don't know but I couldn't give a shit because the tour pack is on its way to me right this very second. 


Now if only all of my musician friends (my real  friends, not the ones who are imaginary) would hurry up and send me the shit they pinky promised to send.  You know who you are.  Slackers!


Then I'll have to get busy painting and hanging all of my stuff up and then I'll have to start writing better stuff like I promised.  Fuck.

Thursday, September 15, 2011

Dj Ashba and Ashba Swag

Those of you 'in the know' know that Dj Ashba treats his fans well- he is AWESOME!!!! I was recently beyond happy to discover that the people who work with him at Ashba Swag are just as awesome.  You see, I wanted a poster of Dj for my office (if you don't know who he is, this is one of those times you should totally go Google him-  gorgeous.  Wait- gorgeous times a zillion.  I don't care that a zillion isn't a real number either) But what's the point unless it's signed to little ole me??  So, I emailed his office- expecting the brushoff, to be perfectly honest- and ya know what happened instead?  After I gave Shannon my sob story about writing a silly blog about my crushes on rock stars and such and after explaining how much I NEEDED my poster personalized...she made it happen.  Super fast, too.  I'm going to post a picture of it later, because it's magnificent!  I'll love Shannon forever and I would bake her cookies, or send her flowers if that wouldn't appear slightly 'overzealous' (in other words, perhaps slightly psycho) on my part.  I told her to consider herself hugged bunches and I think that was crazy just the right amount.

Anyway, how many times do you hear of rock stars (or their staff) going out of their way to make someone happy??  Their customer service gets an A+++ from me!

Tuesday, September 13, 2011

Vaginas and Grenades and Flowers

"So, I had to move my balls out of the way so I could pee this morning..." one of my oldest and dearest friends said to me during one of our daily phone conversations.  You see, my dear friend was eleventy hundred months pregnant and in case you didn't know, the anatomy 'down there'...changes.  (changes is the nicest most politest word I could think of.  I'm sorry. If you've ever had a baby, you know what I'm talking about.  If you haven't, please stop reading NOW.)

This is definitely one of the things pregnancy books don't properly prepare you for.  The way everything below the belt (and above for that matter, but we'll discuss that later) suddenly turns into a foreign country- with mountains and valleys and rivers.  It isn't even the same color. None of it looks the teeniest bit vaguely familiar. 

I know what the books say- they describe female genitalia like a flower.  Which is bullshit  because nobody but a crazy person would pay money for a flower that looks like it's been deprived of sunshine and water and then transported in an un-air conditioned van through the desert.

I've also heard labor described as 'the gradual opening of the flower'.  This is even funnier.  Ask any woman who has experienced pregnancy if labor and delivery felt like their 'flower opening' and they'll laugh so hard they'll mom pee (which is something else they don't tell you.  After you have a baby, you pee your pants.  Occasionally.) 

I like to think of it like inflating a balloon, then deflating it.  Then inflating it. And deflating it.  As many times as you have children.  Now imagine a sad basset hound.  Or maybe a Shar Pei that's been yo yo dieting for a year or two.  Now imagine that in 'vagina terms' and you'll know what it means.  It's scary fucking shit.

I called my Gynecologist once to ask about vaginal reconstruction surgery and the best way I could explain it was 'the meat's just fallin' out of the taco.'  The nurse laughed and then said "I know.  I don't know what the hell happens down there after you have a baby."  I agreed and said "It's like a grenade went off or something."  The only thing that kept me from getting the surgery was the fact that it means no sex for 6 weeks even by yourself, which is terrible.  Plus there was a hefty price tag attached to that surgery- upwards of $5,000.  I have other, more visible things that need to be fixed, personally.

In the 70's (or so I've been told- I wasn't even born then.  Ahem) The big movement was feminism and the big deal was to examine 'your business' with a hand mirror.  Apparently all across America millions of women squatted over hand mirrors looking at their girlie parts.  I have a visual of the squatting lasting 10 seconds before the laughter took over and they fell on said hand mirror.  Which makes me think there might be some missing hand mirrors from around that time.  Anyway, vaginas are not beautiful after you have children and that's why God gave you HAIR there, for God's sake.

Wednesday, September 7, 2011

Men and Lesbians

I'm sitting in the bedroom right now listening to my husband watch the movie 'Wild Things'.  Anyone who has seen this movie knows it is famous for one thing- and it isn't the Oscar worthy performances.  It's the lesbian scene between Neve Campbell and Denise Richards in the swimmimg pool.  I will say that I have never, EVER seen Frank move as quickly as he did this evening getting the boys into bed (which mostly involved him yelling from the couch "Christine- hurry up and get the kids to bed.  Daddy (wink, wink) is going to watch that lesbian Denise Richards movie") Now, please know one thing about me, even if you don't care about anything else- I'm not homophobic in any way shape or form.  I support any healthy relationship between two adults, regardless of the package it comes in.  More love in the world?  Sounds great to me!  But let's get back to lesbians, if you don't mind.

All of my girlfriends and I have had this conversation at some point- we don't understand the urge to have a threesome. Basically we're too lazy and it seems complicated-- I would probably need instructions and a diagram of what goes where and when.  And then there's the whole issue of germaphobes- do you hand out hand sanitizer to everyone?  I think it might burn.  Bleach wipes?  They're just a yeast infection looking for a place to happen.  The only other option I can think of is Lysol and I'm guessing it's offensive and a bit of a mood killer to be handed a can of Lysol spray before sex.  It doesn't exactly scream 'I'm gonna rock your world', does it?

And yet 95% of my friends say their husbands would be supportive if they wanted to invite another woman into the boudoir.  They go as far as saying that their hubby's 'encourage it from time to time'.  Like when Frank and I were in Vegas.  He kept telling me "Oh honey, that girl just checked you out."  I'm no dummy.  I can read him like a book.  A short, easy book with giant letters and mostly pictures.  I told him "Frank, I'm sorry.  I'm not a lesbian.  I'm not going to be.  Please stop letting me know that you're totally supportive of me exploring my sexuality."  Frank looked crestfallen and said "Way to crush a man's dream.  It's no different from you having crushes on rock stars and going on about 'Oh, Piggy D is so hot, blah blah blah'.  "Ummmm yes it is"  I interjected "I don't try to get you drunk and convince you that YOU'RE a ROCK STAR!"

Besides, one of my more brilliant friends summed it up this way "Don't husbands realize that if they ever did make this fantasy a reality, they would leave the experience feeling very...inadequate?"

Well said, my friend...well said.  The next time he asks for a threesome, I'm going to ask if I can invite Dj Ashba.  That might make him rethink his plans.

Tuesday, August 23, 2011

Monday, August 22, 2011

A "Beautiful" Lesson by Dj ASHBA

Dj showing you how to play 'Life is Beautiful"...if you have a guitar...which I don't. So don't ask me why I love this video- I think you already know.

DJ Ashba

Just some pics of Dj set to 'Life is Beautiful'

Piggy D. - (L)ocust Dance

Best Piggy D Song EVER!!!!!!

The Best Marital Advice I Have ( For the Wives Only!)

Ok ladies, I'm going to give you the best piece of marital advice you have ever, or will ever receive.  It's not original- I stole it from Jill Conner Browne author of the fabulous Sweet Potato Queen books, but it works.  Furthermore it works every single time.

I like to call this advice 'The Promise'.  Meaning that you 'promise' to do that thing ALL men love and ALL men complain about never getting- a bj. (If you don't know what this stands for, it stands for blow job.  If you don't know what a blow job is....well, google it) This is how The Promise works- you know those dishes piling up in the sink?  The laundry you can't ever seem to get folded and put away?  The shutters on the house that desperately need repainted?  Walk up to your hubby, sweet as pie and whisper in his ear "I would love to give you a bj right this very second, but the dirty dishes are driving me crazy."  The dishes will be done before you turn around and walk out of the room.  There are actually a bazillion ways to use it- please feel free to adjust it to your personality.

You know when The Promise really comes in handy?  Birthdays, Anniversaries and Christmas.  Then you can spend all the money on yourself and he'll be happy as a clam, I promise.

Now I know this sounds suspiciously like prostitution, but it most definitely is NOT.  It's called marriage and it means you'll have a happy hubby.  Because they ALL complain about having a lack of bj's- they're simple like that.

Oh! One last thing- you don't have to actually deliver on the promise every single time.  I suggest you don't every once in a while just to keep him from abusing The Promise. (Can't you just hear them "Well, I'd love to help you carry in that truckload of groceries through the ice and snow if you made a little promise to me..."  We'll have none of that.

Feel free to try The Promise today- let me know how it works out for you!