Thursday, November 15, 2007


Spent my evening at the mall looking for some cool Lightning gear for mini-me and some jeans for the other little darling. I had a bad "Christmas too early" vibe as we drove up, but ... no. No decorations on the lightpoles in the lot and no big bows on the doors.
I figured the guy who moved daylight savings a week , got together with the guy who moved Thanksgiving a week, and they decided to hold back on the glittery extravaganza until we all finished shredding our calendars.
When what to my wondering eyes should appear?
One skinny-ass Santa, that's what.
This was too funny. Perched out there in front of the only thing Christmas they drug out of storage ( one big old tree ), was a guy who wasn't foolin aaaannyone. When did Jared start a Subway chain north of the Artic circle?
Anyway, since there was no line, we went through the motions. My 4 year old son steps up, stands in front of Santa (too scared to sit on his lap), and says " Where's your fat belly?" Now, I'm crackin up, and Santa goes into this prerehearsed Mrs. Claus diet speech that he will no doubt be repeating to EVERY kid he sees.
My advice- You're gonna lose your voice rollin out that diet schpiel to the next thousand kids, so slide a pillow under the parka slim.


I have keys on my keyring that don't unlock anything.


Wednesday, November 14, 2007


Enough already. Quit your moaning. Everyone's got problems, everyone's got woes. I will always lend a sympathetic ear to anyone in need, but some of this stuff is driving me nuts. Some thoughts for consideration; Life promises nothing, therefore you are due nothing. Your birth certificate has no entitlements clause. There is no free lunch, there is no free ride. There are no hand-outs, only helping hands. No one owes you a living, no one owes you an explanation. You are what you've learned, you are what you eat. You reap what you sow, and you make your own choices. If you don't like it, change it. If you don't want it, scrap it. If you don't need it, recycle it. If you want happiness, you can find it. If you want money, you can work for it. If you want respect, you'll have to earn it.

Tuesday, November 13, 2007


My kids have questions. Since I am the smartest person they know, I hate to disappoint. Maybe someone can help me, in case any of these come up;

Why isn't a penny the smallest coin?

Why aren't the letters on a keyboard in alphabetical order? (you know - like the song)

Why did Wile E. Coyote keep ordering from ACME?

If a spider makes a spiderweb - What makes a cobweb?

What animal do they make SPAM from?

Was Pac-Man fever a real sickness?

Do squirrels poop? (I've never seen this happen)

What happened to all the quicksand?

Why are the Red Hot Chili Peppers so bad-ass?

(okay that last one was mine)

Monday, November 12, 2007


Cockroach Cancer
More Funny Pictures at

I awoke this morning with great expectations and a desire to start my morning routine with as much unbridled enthusiasm as I could muster for a Monday. As I passed through the kitchen on my way to wake the kids, the mustering was put to the test. A roach. A dead roach. Motionless, upside down, and well, just plain gross. I got it into a dustpan and into the trash before any further ickiness could ensue. That should have been it. No more. End of story. Out of sight - out of mind. But then it hit me. Roaches can go a month without food. ( they can survive on postage stamp glue if they had to.) Roaches can go without air for 45 minutes. Roaches have a high tolerance to radiation.( you know the whole nuclear war survival story.) A roach can live with its freakin head cut off! (Until it starves- no head= no mouth= no food). Now I agree that the best kind of roach is a dead one, but I gotta know. Why is it that a creature that can survive all that stuff, couldn't make it in my house? I didn't spray anything, set off any bug-bomb, or whack him with my shoe. So tell me, what's wrong with MY house? This is where I've chosen to raise my two children. We eat, drink, sleep, and play in here. This is where we live and breathe. Still, roach is dead-couldn't cut it. Wait.... I know - old age! That's my theory. Unless there is some sort of cockroach suicide study I haven't heard of.

Sunday, November 11, 2007


I am a big fan of live music. The scream of the guitars, the rumble of the drum beat, the mass of concert goers paying homage to their favorite bands from "the pit", I love it all. But, - (and I know you saw the "but" comin) I got a beef. To the drunk people behind me at the Pepper show, maybe it's not a good idea to start drinking at 12:15 for a 9:00 curtain. And it's surely not a great plan to use said drunkeness to annoy those around you. Hey, just glad it was me who got to knock you off the bench and watch you tumble like a hamster.

To the idiot at the Ribfest concert, HEY, THE BAND IS BEHIND YOU!. Standing up and facing the crowd only lets us get a look at the more-on who is blocking our view of the stage. If you're not here to watch, then go home and buy the album.

And finally, to this guy in the picture, ..........where do I begin.