Saturday, February 27, 2010

To Blog, or Not to Blog. That is the Question

I sat down at the computer tonight ready to unleash a comical tirade full of R-rated expletives (I save the X ones for conversation), wrote a couple of paragraphs, then backspaced them all gone. There are rules to this blogging business, and I was about to violate them. Which leads to the question: When to blog or not blog?

When to NOT Blog Rules:
  1. Never blog when you’re in a foul mood.
  2. Never blog when you’ve got your period (which may just be an extension of rule #1).
  3. Never blog when you’re pissed off at one person in particular (yeah, I’m talking about you, buddy)
  4. Never blog after three too many (one too many and you can still be funny, two too many can be funny but with really bad spelling, three too many just ain’t worth it)
  5. Never blog about people who may read your blog (just bitch about them the old fashioned way…behind their back).
When TO Blog Rules:
  1. Blog when you’ve got a great story/joke/lesson to share.
  2. Blog when you’re in a really good mood.
  3. Blog when you need to be creative and have time to proofrreed
  4. Blog when you're sure your kids won't be fighting or screaming they've clogged the toilet...again.
  5. Blog when you’ve got a full cup of coffee by your side.
Well my kids are home and in bed, so they won’t clog the toilet. But my husband had a lot of carbs at the Scout banquet so there’s still the possibility of plunging. I don’t have a cup of coffee, but I do have a beer. I’m in a good mood, but I’m a wee bit pissed off at a particular person. I’ve got a great story and joke to share, but it’s about someone who may read my blog. I’m feeling all creative, but a little bloated and PMSy.

What to do? What to do?

Screw the blog, I’m going downstairs to shoot for two too many. Go read a book folks.

Wednesday, February 17, 2010

Kids Say the Damndest Things....(I'm not the PG type)

As some of you may (or may not) know, one of my personalities works at a preschool with sixteen 4- to 5-year-old pre-K students. There's a lot of the typical preschool chit chat and banter mixed in with lessons, stories and music time. But once in a while, someone comes up with something that makes you wish you had a pen tucked behind your ear. These are some of my pen moments from this year so far. Enjoy.

Secondary Colors
Girl: "Teacher, we're out of green paint."
Me: "Well, do you know what you'll get if you mix yellow paint with blue paint?"
Girl: "Punished?"

Snacktime Banter
Me: "Can anyone tell me a word that starts with C?"
Various kids: "Cat! Cookie! Crayon! Car!...Crap!"
Me: "Well, let's not say THAT word, okay?"
Boy: "Why? Does it start with a K?"

Boy 1: "That girl's my girlfriend."
Boy 2: "Girls are gross."
Boy 1: "I know, but she brings good snacks to lunch bunch!"

Boy 1: Teacher, X is eating one of Y's pretzel sticks.
Me: "Everyone eat their own snacks, not someone else's."

Boy 2 (chewing): "But he gave it to me."

Boy 3: "Teacher, he can have it. I was up my nose."

Teacher: "Today's letter is Q. And when you write Q, it's always next to another letter. Who knows what letter that is?"
Boy 1: "R!"

Teacher: "No, I'm talking about what letter you always see written down next to Q."
Boy 2: "P!"
Teacher: "Well, in words, it's the letter U."

Boy 1 to Boy 2: "She really doesn't know the alphabet? It's right on the wall! PQR!"

Texas Holdem
Me to boy holding himself: "Honey, do you have to go potty?"

Boy: "No, sometimes my wiener just sticks to my pants."

Circle Time
After telling a boy to be still several times, boy says to teacher:
"You really have a tough job, don't you?"

Ouch! Moments
Woman 1: He's such a nice boy. Do you watch your grandson every day?
Woman 2: I'm his mother.

Mom 1: I don't know how you manage with a kindergartner, a 3-year-old AND being pregnant!
Mom 2: I'm NOT pregnant.

4-yr-old Girl: "I like hugging you hello, Miss Suzanne."
Me: "Well that's sweet. I like hugging you hello too."

Girl: "You're just so squishy!"

If Only I Could Smack Parents Moment
Mom: "Say goodbye to Miss Suzanne."
3-yr-old: "Goodbye butthole face."
Mom: " know how kids are!"

Me (in my head): "I know how YOUR kids are."

Prize Winner
Me: "You just picked that out of your nose. Do NOT eat it!"
Boy: "Why, do you want it?"

Tuesday, February 9, 2010

So Many Titles I Could Write...Let's Just Call This One...OMFG

I get a lot of forwarded emails. I mean A LOT. Most of them are utter crap and I delete them without even opening. Some come from friends or family, so I'll read it thinking it's a pleasantry before realizing it's a forwarded fable attempting to sell me on their politician/religion/insurance....THEN I delete (if I've had my morning coffee) or send a "knock it the fuck off" reply (if I haven't). And many forwarded emails have me heading straight to so I can provide to the other 68 people who received the "personal" message that:

  • Tampax doesn't put asbestos in their tampons so you'll bleed more.
  • deodorant doesn't cause breast cancer.
  • asparagus won't cure the deodorant-caused cancer.
  • people aren't hiding under your car at the mall to slice your achilles tendon.
  • Jamie Lee Curtis isn't a hermaphrodite (that one's still a little shaky).
  • Ashley Flores is NOT missing.
  • Mikey did not die of a tragic Pepsi/PopRocks combo.
  • Applebees/Microsoft/IBM/Target will not pay you if you forward this email.
  • Marilyn Manson is not: Paul Pfeiffer from Wonder Years; slaughtering puppies on stage; able to self-fellate thanks to having a rib removed.
But once in a while I get a forward that I LOVE. More often than not it's from my friend Kathy, who shares my wicked sense of humor and left-leaning politics. But even Kathy once in a while sends me something that makes me question its validity. Tonight was one of those times. She sent me some old ads she had been sent. One of them made me search the web to see if it could possibly be fake. But nope, it was real. It's so...bizarre/obsolete/mysogynistic/offensive...It's an OMFG forward. And research proved it was just the tip of the iceberg.

So Ladies and Gentlemen, allow me to introduce you to some 1920s-1940s advertisements for Lysol. NOT for what it could do for your horrifically offensive garbage can or diaper pail. For your vagina. Yeah, you heard me. THAT's why husbands were acting like such an assholes from 1927-1948. Your nether-regions didn't have that same "AH! Now THAT's clean!" aroma that your disinfected trash bins did. Read 'em and weep/laugh, ladies. And smack yourselves upside the head in atonement for your grandfathers, men. I hate to paraphrase an old cigarette ad, but vagina's have come a long way baby. Now if you'll pardon me, I've got a bottle of Massengill's "Mango Mist" somewhere in the hall closet that's about to expire. Flowers and tropical THAT's the way God intended it to smell down there.

Note: If you got this blog entry sent to you automatically via email, just click on the link at the bottom of the email so you can see it real blog, with the pictures and the "appropriate" song choice. Oh...and everyone...feel free to forward this email. ;-)

Thursday, February 4, 2010