8:18 p.m.
Sweety and BB are swapping between Dog the Bounty Hunter and Football. I need another drink.

8:29
That was good. I made BB & LB try some of the peanut butter fudge that my sister sent. They agreed that it is fantastic. I miss her. I so wished I lived closer to my first family.

Dear Tiny Dog Oy,
Just because I want a new Chihuahua puppy, doesn’t mean that I love you any less. It isn’t your fault that you can no longer provide me with sweet puppy breath.

I miss sweet puppy breath.

Dear SWEETY,
If you would OPENLY WELCOME OY INTO OUR BED, I WOULDN’T BUG YOU FOR A NEW DOG! I love sleeping with Oy. She is my baby surrogate. You know this.

6:35 p.m.

We were supposed to go to our friend’s house tonight for a New Year’s Eve party but Sweety got stuck at work late and is getting sick with the sinus crud so we are staying home.

That’s okay.

I got my hair done today (adios, gray motherfuckers!), and my nails painted and put my makeup on (glittery eyeshadow. I love glitter. I don’t care if it looks stupid.) to await tonight’s festivities.

We’ve got fireworks! I love fireworks. LOVE FIREWORKS.

Star Jones in a bikini. I coulda prolly went my whole life without that. She looks like a mean person. Maybe she’s not. Maybe she just got stuck with that mean face.

I’ve got vodka with some tabasco and lime juice to squirt liberally into it. (thank you, Amy. You have put the “sauced” into “Happy New Year!”) And snacky foods. Holy mother of Pete. We’ve got some snacky foods. I took a video. Will post it tomorrow. Tomorrow starts my new “Sweety approved diet” and Fritos with sour cream and tabasco isn’t on it. Neither is pizza. Or cheese. Man, I wish I had some real Coke (ha! I typed “cock” at first) in a can. I might even cook up some biscuits. So I’m eating up tonight.

LB is in our bedroom, going on hour 8 of playing football on the Playstation (and I don’t normally let them do that. but we’re on school vacation, dammit.) and BB is in the living room with Sweety and me watching football on t.v. And I am tapping away on the keyboard. My plan is to sit her and type away (and bore the holy hell out of anyone that trudges through this later) and talk to you like you are really here. Okay, maybe not really here. I would be more fun if you were really here.

My iPhone jumped out of my purse today and landed on its face. It is now cracked. But it still works. It’s only one crack. Not a spiderweb. I’m going to stop talking about it or I will cry tiny tears. Phone. Fucking phone that you can’t get insurance for. Meh.

Sweety just slapped Tiny Dog. I am kicking his ass in his sleep later. I don’t care if he is letting her lick out his nose now to make up for it. I am a grudge holder. If Sweety whacks me in the thigh again - I’m hitting him in gut.

How long is this mother grabbing football game gonna last?

8:05 p.m.

Stinky Dog is rubbing her head on my leg like she’s getting ready to make sweet love to it. If you crawl around on my house on your hands and knees, you can see the trail of Stinky’s love.

Uh oh. Sweety whacked me in the thigh and when I went to whack him in the gut, I was too slow. I hit his hand instead. It’s not good when you don’t his someone full force where you planned on. It gives them time to get back at you. I’m fucked.

Dog the Bounty Hunter? They are watching that. I hate Dog. I don’t know why. He just seems holier-than-thou. He makes me want to puke.

8:15 p.m.

Stinky is still rubbing her head on me while her feet twitch violenty. Is this Basset Hound masturbation? I wonder if her coochie’s wet. I’m not going to check though.

*I am not even going to look at these posts until tomorrow. I will reply to comments then. I feel bad posting new shit without replying.

I’m sorry that they’re out of lobster.

Out of lobster? Well, what do they have?

Crabs.

That’s cool. I like crabs.

You’ll have to catch them though. They’re like little spiders. You eat them raw. Feet first to make sure they don’t claw your eyes out.

What the fuck? Raw?

Yeah. They are juicy and good that way.

I want my crab cooked. Not raw.

You’ll have to go wait in the cook line for them then.

Okay.

Hey! Do you want me to get a light bulb?

What for?

So we can put a switch on it and have light.

Nah. I like it dark.

Oh…okay…

I love you though. Thanks for asking.

I love you too.

Mom & Stepdad left this morning. Their plane took off at 6:30 so we had to get up a bit before four to get there in time. The early hour helped keep the “goodbye” from being too sad. We were all too tired to be sad. We spent all day at Sea World yesterday and had a ball. It was neat seeing how excited Mom got when she saw things.

Stepdad left us with a gift. A cold. Or something else that’s horrible and lives in your head. I have excreted at least a gallon of mucas in te past 24 hours. Trying to not breathe too deeply because that starts a coughing fit. Hopefully, this shit will go the way of the dinosaurs soon.

Has anyone out there ever had a motherfucking boil? (and if so, how, for the love of Pete - how do you get rid of it? I’ve tried slathering it in baking soda paste and soaking in hot water to no avail.) First time in ever dealing with one. It has its own zip code. If it were in an area that was more easily accessible, I would burn it off with a cooking torch. Hopefully, this shit will go the way of the dinosaurs soon.

Tiny Dog certainly misses having my Mom around. I looked over at Mom while she was at the kitchen table the other night and she had Tiny in her lap. She was tearing turkey into tiny bits and hand-feeding it to Tiny Dog. I swear, the dog stuck her tongue out at me when I made her put her back on the floor. Tiny’s gained at least 2 pounds in the past week.

Oh! Speaking of poundage! I’ve hit my goal!

I knew if I kept hitting the Burger King often enough that I would!

I weighed myself this morning and saw that I broke the big 2-0-0. Woo hoo! Mission accomplished. I’m thinking I can eat my way on into gastric bypass surgery. (end sarcasm here)

At some point last year, Sweety said he was going to start cooking for me so I would eat healthier and try to cheerlead me along. For the record, I wanted no part of that. He didn’t get around to cooking for me but did make some headway in the cheerleading department. It was always nice to see him give me a glare whenever I was eating something that was bad for me or was eating too late in the day. There’s nothing funner than secluding yourself somewhere in the house to eat that’s away from prying eyes. (That was sarcastic too, okay?)

We’re leaving the movies the other day (After I’d eaten popcorn. Holy shit. Don’t go to the movie and eat popcorn! It is evil!)

You’re going to do things differently in the new year! We’re going to do things differently in the new year!

*crickets chirping*

I am going to cook for you! Chicken! You will take it to work and eat that instead of junk food!

Okay. If you pack it. I will eat it.

No more junk! And exercise! You will hate me in the beginning but you will thank me a few months from now!

*yeah, so will my new husband* thought to myself

I know what you’re thinking - “sure, and my new man will thank you when I leave your ass!”, right?

Whoa. You really do know me.

Instead of crash dieting like I’ve done in the past, I’m going to go slow this time. If I could just knock off 10 pounds a month, by this summer, I’d be cute again. And not winded all of the time with creaking knees.

I guess I’ll go wash off this freaking baking soda and check on my baby boil.

For all purposes, Christmas has been celebrated here. The boys go to their mom’s in the morning so we opened gifts and had Christmas dinner today. I am full as a tick and tired.

I told you all that Sweety got my Mom and Stepdad down here. That was my Christmas gift from him. Well, he got me a couple of other things too that just blew my freaking mind. First, an autographed copy of Gunpowder by Joe Hill. This was on my wishlist at a bookstore I like online and Sweety saw me drooling over it one night. He gives me shit about how much money some books I have cost and I really never thought he’d buy me one. It hasn’t been sent to me yet but I was speechless (I don’t think I’ve ever been speechless before.) when he told me that it would be and showed me the email that confirmed his order.

And next? A marshmallow blaster! It shoots them up to 40 feet! I have been stalking the dogs and family members all afternoon. I’m going to get a piece of foam rubber and cut it out in the shape of a large marshmallow. It will be used to shoot Tiny Dog when she wants to cry at my bedside in the middle of the night.

For once, I managed to get Sweety something for Christmas and he was really surprised. A vintage Shoot the Moon game. His grandparent’s had one when he was a kid and it was the only thing that he wanted from them when their house was being cleaned out. (his grandpa died earlier this year and his grandma had to go live with her son, Sweety’s dad) He couldn’t find it at their house though when all the kids gathered their earlier this year. I managed to snag one on eBay for him that was just like the one they had. Still in the box and everything! Score one for me.

Getting to see my Mom has been great. We’ve eaten our weight in rice and kimchi and taken a nap or two together with Tiny Dog. We’re going to get up and make breakfast in the morning and after the boys leave, laze around and do a bunch of nothing. This has been the nicest week ever.

I need to go and have a piece of pecan pie.

I hope you all have a fantastically merry Christmas!

So do Chi Chi 2.0 and Stinky Dog.

My Mom and Stepdad will be here today! Wootie woot! They will leave next Sunday. I am so excited to see them. Mom and I spent 20 minutes the other night deciding if we will eat at an all you can eat crab leg place or an all you can eat chinese buffet that has crab legs when we go shopping tomorrow. We are still undecided.

Another shout out to my awesome Sweety! Thank you for getting them down here for me!

I’m taking a tiny break from cleaning the house before they get here. I still need to clean the bathroom they will use and wash the stinking dogs. By vacuuming the carpet multiple times and then hitting it with a can and a half of carpet cleaner, I managed to get the dog feet smell out. Stinky Dog is loving on me now. She has no idea that she’s fixing to get a hot water bath and get her butthole squeezed. Merry Christmas, Stinky!

Heh. A few minutes ago, I popped a really big air bag that was in a box that was mailed to me. It was very loud. So loud that the neighbor’s dog went apeshit and that set off all of the neighborhood dogs. I could hear the owners coming outside to yell at their dogs to shut the hell up. I liked setting off a chain reaction.

Dear Spamming Assholes,
Look around here. Do you see any mother fucking spam in my comments? No. No, you do not. Do you know why? It’s because I despise you and I delete your shit immediately. Do us both a favor and go play in traffic. At the very least, waste your keystrokes elsewhere.

Sincerely,
The Bitch That Runs This Place

Dear Tiny Dog,
Thanks for taking time out of your busy schedule to puke on my lap. I know that no other spot in the house would have brought you as much comfort in your time of need. It truly brightens my day to know that I mean so much to you.

Love,
Mama

Dear Idiot At The Post Office,
When the clerk says, “Next person that is READY, please!” - that means you only go hog up space at the counter if all of your shit is filled out. If you are still addressing envelopes and insurance forms, the person behind you (me! me! me!) gets to go. Get your shit together or else I’ll stick a foot in your ass.

Signed,
I’ve Spent Too Much Time In Line Already, Dummy

Dear Lady With The Tiny Flesh Loaf,

Your baby was freaking adorable. And quiet. And adorable. And I loved looking at her tiny toes. Thank you for taking her to lunch today so I could ogle her.

Sincerely,
Is It Baby Fever or PMS?

Dear Dumbass,
So after 8 years you want to see your daughter? Sending her mother a MySpace message to communicate your intention is not the best way to go. Sending her a MySpace message with two misspellings in the first (and only) sentence doesn’t look too hot either. Crawl back under your rock. Or jump in front of my car. And don’t send me any more messages either. Fucktard.

Very Truly,
I Hate Your Guts & Wish You’d Spontaneously Combust

Dear Sweety,
Hey! That stuff we did the other night? (Yeah, that’s what I’m talking about.) When can we do that again? Let me know when you feel like it.

Waiting By The Cedar Chest Full Of Tricks,
Your Fantastic Wife

The boys had to be bribed to go with me. They got to go to a movie (Madagascar 2 was good, btw) in exchange for going and wrangling the live dogs. I was standing in line with Chi Chi 2.0 in my arms when the lady behind me struck up a conversation…

Oh! Is that a chihuahua?

Yes.

Wow! She is tiny! I’ve never seen such a tiny dog!

Yeah. She weighs barely anything. She is very light!

(she peeks at Chi Chi’s wizened face that I have half-heartedly covered with a blanket) Is she very old?

Oh, yes. She is very, very old.

(she touches Chi Chi’s nose lightly and draws back) Wow! She’s asleep, huh? She sleeps good.

She is a very hard sleeper. She is the best dog ever.

The whole time, I’m talking in a very serious tone and I can see BB standing behind the lady and his face is all red because he’s trying to not burst out laughing. I would have told the lady that she was dead but I was afraid that she’d freak out and the other people in line would freak out and I would be asked to leave before getting the photo done.

These are the lights that the neighbor glares at.

I so love those twig things with lights on them.

I freaking overslept this morning and the boys got to school late. Argh. School starts at 8:51 and I woke at 8:57. I set my alarm clock incorrectly. We managed to get out of the house and to the school by 9:08. I’m embarrassed. I hate to be late for things. I have been known to NOT GO to something if I’m going to be late. If you look at my work record, you will see that I have NEVER been late. Absent perhaps, but not late. I was tempted to tell the boys they could stay home today (today is the day that school lets out an hour early anyway) but figured that Sweety would cut my head off if I did that.

An asshole seller on eBay has burned me. I won an auction for a camera about a month ago and it was never sent to me. PayPal did give my money back. That was nice. But I really wanted the camera. On the same night that I won the camera, I bought a lens for it from an online store. The time frame to return it passed while I was still waiting for the camera to arrive. I sold the lens on eBay this weekend. I give up. I’m not ready to pay the retail price for a big boy camera. Meh. The dogs’ retinas thank me.

Sweety tried to fix our t.v. awhile back and it didn’t work. For the last month, we’ve watched a television that makes a sound like a plane taking off and the color on it was almost black and white. Unbeknownst to me, when we were out and about on Saturday, Sweety bought a new t.v. Brought it home last night, hooked it up, and voila! The color was still off. After much poking and prodding, we realized that some things weren’t plugged in properly at the cable box. But now we have a new t.v. And another giant t.v. that probably will work after buying a $100 part and making sure that it’s plugged in correctly. I don’t know what in the hell we’re going to do with that one. I think we should just take the new one back and try to fix the old one again but I have a feeling that my idea will not be met with open arms by the menfolk of the house.

Do you pass the hat at your job to get a gift for your boss at Christmas? I’ve been at this hellhole place of employment for 7 years now and have never been on a team where the people did that. Until this year. I didn’t get a stinking, fucking turkey sandwich when I worked on Thanksgiving but you people want me to contribute to the “buy the supervisor that makes more money than us - Oh! By the way! No more raises til the economy picks up!” fund? I’m seriously thinking of checking my name off the list when the envelope comes around but not putting any money in it. I stuck $10 in the envelope that came around yesterday for the lady on our team that is always baking cakes and bringing them in though. I like cake. I’m not a total tightwad. I like to prioritize.

We’ve put up more Christmas decorations and our anal neighbor is spinning out of control. Colored lights! Oh no! All we have up are a row of lights around the edge of the roof, a snowman and 3 things that you poke in the ground (they look like tree limbs with lights on them). After the addition of the tree limb things, he stood at the end of his driveway, looking at our house and shaking his head for a good 10 minutes, I kid you not. I spied on him through the kitchen window. When I was tired of spying, I opened the blinds and he scurried away. I REALLY like the tree limb things. I’d like to buy more and keep them up around the perimeter of the house year round. To keep dragons away. Heck, I’d even leave the snowman up. He is so cheery.

Courtesy of the most awesome Bekah. She has mad skills.

First off, I must apologize for not replying to comments in the last post. There were too many for my weak mind to handle. I suck and I’m sorry.

Okay.

Now I can post about whatever hits my Crown Royal addled mind.

I’ve never seen the movie Predator before. So shoot me. That’s what Sweety’s watching now. He thinks it’s a disgrace that I haven’t seen it. WTFE.

Heh, I taught the boys what WTFE and STFU meant. They were fans of screaming OMG and I thought I’d expand their horizons. They knew right away what the WTF and FU stood for so I didn’t teach them much.

One of Sweety’s favorite movies is Pure Country. (Even though I recognize that George Strait is fantastic and I’d have his little cowboy hatted babies - I can also admit that that movie sucked herpes infested donkey balls.) Can he really berate me for not seeing Predator? I think not. I’ve been dying to go to New York forever and a day to see The Nutcracker at Christmas time and he says no - but he finds out that Pure Fucking Country is going to be made into a musical and he suddenly thinks New York might be okay. Pfft.

It’s official. I’d rather pick Stinky Dog’s nose and eat her boogers than watch Predator. Stinky has some amazingly clean nostrils right now. You could fuck them and not get the clap or crabs.

Sweety is reciting the lines from this movie before they are said. He needs some stout electroshock therapy.

He has never seen Heathers. Oh Em Gee. I just ooched it to the top of my NetFlix so he can be enlightened even sooner.

Tiny Dog is licking out Stinky’s eyes. I swear, you have never heard a sound like it. Unless you eat watermelon with reckless abandon.

I think I need some crackers.