Open Mouth, Insert Foot, Chew Vigorously

How I love caller ID - to bad it doesn't work all the time. I like to sneak a peak at who's calling to shoot the breeze.

My friends and family call to chit chat and of course I answer the phone in a very smart ass way designed to shock you and make you giggle. ie:

"Nikki's slave shack - what cha want?"

Well, on one particular occasion, I had a friend of mine get a new phone number that wouldn't pop on my caller ID for some reason or another, she was gonna call me and chew the fat and go over a couple or three things about some arrangements we were making.

The phone rings - I pick it up - "Nikki's house of pain - do you want me to beat the shit out of you?"

IT WAS MY HORROR IN LAW!!!!!

My bible beating, Christian to the core Mother in law responded

"Not today thank you"

and hung up the phone.

I swore I would never answer the phone that way again. Yes, I despise her, but I never EVER want to put Charles in a situation where she can complain to him about me.

I did it to her again 1 year later.

"Nikki's Organ Transplant station - I'm gonna cut your ass up"

"I don't think so" she says and hung up.

Charles won't let me answer the phone any more. He says I'm setting a bad example for the kids.

Damn kill joy.

The Bite My Ass Award

In keeping with the tradition of the "Asshat of the Week" award over at Attila's blog, I introduce you to the "Bite My Ass" award.

This award is set aside especially for those who I think really deserve to be single out for being such jerks.

The honor of the first award goes to Mr. Ronald Wayne Blankenship of Alabama. Mr. Blankenship ran for sheriff of Jefferson County. In various news stories, it is reported that Mr. Blankenship FAKED HIS DEATH AND HAD A FUNERAL several years ago to get the $340,000 in insurance money.

It is also reported that Mr. Blankenship has a past of BAD CHECK CHARGE(S) and there were some questions concerning him and a CAMPER TRAILER FIRE.

In 1990, a SWAT teamed swarmed his home for a THEFT charge and found a CACHE OF WEAPONS INSIDE A MATTRESS BOX SPRING. It was later found that along with the warrant for theft, there were also warrants out for ASSAULT, BURGLARY, MORE THEFT AND FORGERY.

Mr. Blankenship said: to paraphrase - It wasn't me, you have the wrong man. There must be another man out there with my same name, date of birth, married to a woman with the same name as my wife. It all a big coincidence because "I stand before the Lord, I've never been convicted of anything." YET COURT RECORDS SHOW THAT MR. BLANKENSHIP DID AT LEAST ONE YEAR IN THE COUNTY LOCKUP.

During the run for sheriff, Mr. Blankenship denied to be interviewed or release personal information because he was concerned over identity theft.

Mr. Blankenship I despise you and people of your ilk.

You can bite my ass.

WARNING -- TMI--YOU MIGHT WANT TO LEAVE NOW

I have just got to vent. If you don't like it, then carry your ass that way ---->

WHAT IS IT WITH MEN? Am I the only wife that has this problem? Please help - I'm serious because this is really starting to piss me off.

This morning, I woke up at 5am with the dog scratching at the kennel door like I hadn't let him out in 3 days to pee. He woke up Super Kid. I let the dog out only to find that he peed in the kennel. Cleaned that up(that was a wonderful experience - it was just how I have always wanted to start my morning), and tended to Super Kid. Went ahead and fed Super Kid breakfast because there was no way I was going to get him back to sleep when we needed to get up in an hour anyway.

Woke up Lauren (which is damn near impossible) , made sure Lauren brushed her teeth - she didn't do it well - I made her do it again. Realized I forgot to put her pants in the dryer last night. Oh she has more than one pair of pants, but she was going on a field trip today and HAD to have THAT pair - the ones she wore on Monday. So instead of putting the whole load in the dryer, I threw just that one pair in so it would dry quicker.

I ironed my clothes for work, ironed Lauren's shirt and ironed the baby's clothes. Made Lauren go brush her hair again, got super kid dressed and finally got to brush my teeth. Fed Lauren breakfast, fed the cats, fed the dog and watered the garden.

Took a "shower", basically all I had time for was an extremely brief introduction between my skin and soap and had to get the heck out of there because I remembered we had to leave an hour early this morning to be at the daycare in time for her bus to leave on her field trip.

While drying my hair, the hair dryer died and I don't have an extra one. I had to dry my hair and curl it at the same time with the curling iron. My hair didn't like me before - it fuckin' hates me now.

I finally got to put my pants on. Remembered Lauren's pants, threw them at her and told her to put them on in a hurry 'cause we had to go. Put my shirt on, put the dog in the kennel and woke up hubby. Was headed out the door and putting my shoes on (we keep all shoes in the laundry room - no shoes in the house) and as I was putting on my heels, Super Kid's top came off his cup and drowned my shoes in milk. I put on black flip flops instead of the heels, made sure I wasn't stepping on my pants leg stuffed the baby in the car seat, rinsed out my shoes and put them on the porch to dry. Fussed at Lauren to hurry up or she wasn't going to make the bus for her field trip. Went back inside, fixed myself some tea and woke hubby up again. Ran out the door and drove like the devil, slinging gravel and puttin' a ton of dust in the air.

Got to daycare, remembered to put Lauren's hair up - did it in the parking lot, dropped of the kids, got to the office and worked like a fiend all day long - looked in the mirror around lunch and noticed I forgot to put my make-up on. Stayed late at work for 2 hours to catch up, picked up the kids, drove home, let the dog out, let the cats out, fed the fish, fixed dinner, fed my spawn, bathed super kid, put super kid to sleep, sent Lauren for bath and bed, washed dishes, rewashed the load of clothes I forgot to put in the dryer this morning, scrubbed the kitchen floor and finally put away a load of clothes that was sitting on the couch looking rather wrinkled and scary.

I finally crawled into bed at 10:23pm. I was exhausted. I mean, just beat down! Hubby roles over and I can tell he's feeling rather "FRISKY".

First, let me say in his defense... He's sick. He has been quarantined to the bedroom so the kids don't get sick too. I don't mind doing all this when he is sick. He usually helps out with house and kids and what not. . . . . BUT

YOU AREN'T TO FUCKING SICK IF YOU'RE LOOKING FOR SOME FUCKING ACTION BUDDY. I'M PLAYING SINGLE MARRIED MOM HERE AND YOU'RE IN BED CHILLIN OUT WATCHIING THE DAMN TV PROPPED UP ON PILLOWS AND ALL OF THE SUDDEN YOU HAVE ENERGY WHEN I COME TO BED?!

YOU'VE BEEN IN BED FOR TWO DAYS BECAUSE YOU HAVE A FUCKING HEADACHE AND YOU FEEL SICK TO YOUR STOMACH. ALL I CAN SAY IS BIG FUCKING WHOO.

I HAVE BEEN SLEEPING IN THE RECLINER FOR 3 DAYS SO YOU WILL GET GOOD UNINTERRUPTED, GOOD QUALITY SLEEP (I snore). I'M FRIGGIN TIRED. LEAVE ME THE HELL ALONE.

DON'T GET ALL OFFENDED AND PISSED OFF IF I SAY NO. HAVE THE FUCKING BRAINS TO REALIZE I'M TIRED. I ONLY HAVE SO MUCH ENERGY. I DON'T HAVE THE ENERGY TO BUST MY ASS ALL DAY AND THEN COME TO BED IN A BLACK NIGHTY TO BE YOUR LITTLE SEX KITTEN, WHERE YOU WOULD PROBABLY WANT ME TO BE ON TOP ANYWAY BECAUSE YOU'RE SICK. FUCK YOU.

IF YOU WANT ACTION? I WANT HELP YOU ASS.

My Practical Jokes - Surprise Level - Jaw Dropper

Yes!

Let it be known that I have corrupted my daughter. I have taught her the way of the practical joke, and in the words of the infamous Martha Stewart "It's a good thing." She is my "Grasshopper"

My daughter and I are extremely devilish beings. We enjoy it. It's fun. She has pulled a few of her own, mostly on me - which I shall never tell you about.

I will however, enlighten you to how we got Hubby together! MWOOOOAHAHAHAHA!

Hubby tends to be pretty serious - despite what you read on my blog. I give you glimpses of what the average person never sees. If you go back to the picture I posted of us, you'll see he's smiling. I'm not going to tell you what I had to promise to get him to smile for a picture - you're to young. He only gets goofy occasionally if we are with the short people(Connor and Lauren), or in that even more unique of instances - we are ALONE.

This of course is a challenge to me. I love to see him loose that reserve he has.

At any rate - on with the story.

Lauren and I were driving home a few months ago and SHE asked if we could play a joke on Daddy. Well, who am I to curtail the imagination and incentive of children? I naturally agreed. (I really try to nurture her - can't you tell?)

It takes about 30-45 minutes to get home from school and we were just coming up with one thing or another until finally, we hit the jackpot - so to speak. Hubby was already home that particular day so we quickly ironed everything out and went over it a couple of times to make sure everyone knew their part.

We pulled up in the driveway and Hubby unexpectedly came outside. Lauren - to her credit - was able to "roll with the punches". We altered our plan by going ahead and starting the show there in the driveway instead of waiting until we got inside.

Me - (pretending to be extremely irate) Lauren. You had better go to your room and just plan on staying there for the rest of the night. I don't want you poking your head out asking for water or anything. You have those little cups in your bathroom, you can drink water from the tap tonight.

Lauren - (very meek and pitiful) I'm sorry mom. (uh-oh - she's fighting a grin. I cut my eyes at her, hubby turns his back of an instant and I wink at her. She grins really big and then is all meek again)

Me - I'm not interested in how sorry you are. I'm not interested in anything but your behavior today. I'm not interested in your back talk either. Don't you say another word! Just go to your room.

I slammed the car door for emphasis and Lauren ran inside with her head down clutching her book bag for dear life. I was having a hard time fighting my own smile. I reached in the car pretending I forgot something until I could get control of myself again. I walked up to hubby, pecked him on the cheek.

Me - (still pretending to be pissed off in the highest rafters of pisstivity.) Hey baby. How was your day? (I practically growled at him)

I walked on in to the house, hubby trailing behind. That was good. I couldn't keep the grin off of my face - and he couldn't see if he was looking at my back.

Hubby - So what happened?

Me - I can't talk about it! I just can't talk about it!

Hubby - (sitting in recliner watching me)

I toss things around for general effect and keep the scowl on my face. I sit for a few minutes and then go stand out on the deck to smoke (we don't smoke inside at home). Hubby comes over and lights one up with me.

Hubby - You alright? (I knew I had him then - he usually leaves me alone when I'm mad - I had been prepared the thrust him into the situation - but there he was practically begging me for it)

Me - Charles, I'm so mad right now. I CAN NOT believe what this child has done.

Charles - (still cool and calm) What'd she do?

Me - She HIT, HIT a three year old! I just can't believe this shit! That poor little girl! She knows better! I just don't have the words to tell you how upset I am that she did that. (I snubbed out my cig and lit another. (I was getting a head rush, but I smoke heavily when I'm mad so I had to keep going ) On top of that she got her report card today and there are 2 bad grades on it!!!!

Hubby - Trying to keep straight face but I could just see it in his eyes. The "Oh shit, I think she's going to explode" look.

To hubby's credit he wanted the whole story - which I knew he would. I had thought ahead and gave him the full "shpiel".

Me - she saw her report card at school and knew she was in trouble! Then at school, that sweet little girl did something or another and she HIT HER! I can't believe she hit her!

Hubby was quiet. I could tell he was upset. I tried to act contrite.

Me - I'm sorry to come home like this and upset you. Why don't you sit down in the recliner and I'll get you some tea or something.

I walked over to the fridge and fixed a glass of tea. When I was ready to go back into the living room, I stuck my head around the corner and signalled for Lauren.

I gave Hubby is tea and he sat silently for a moment.

Me - What do you think we should do?

Him - I don't know. I'm really surprised. Lauren just isn't like that. That is totally out of character for her. Is there anything going on at school?

Uh-oh. There he goes being all wonderful again. That normally wouldn't be a problem, but not now! He's going to ruin the joke! I had to put an end to this quick before it went ker-flewy.

Me - WHO CARES WHAT'S GOING ON AT SCHOOL! SHE HIT A 3 YR OLD LITTLE GIRL! I'M GONNA WEAR THAT CHILD OUT! AND THE REPORT CARD! I JUST CAN'T BELIEVE IT!

Pause....I'm breathing heavily.

Me - You're going to have to be the one to spank her Charles. I can't do it. I'm to mad.

Hubby - Let me go see what happened.

He gets up to go back to Lauren's room, and Lauren jumps out from behind the recliner and we both yell "GOT CHA!!!!" and start giggling.

The look on that man's face was priceless. He looks at me and says "You realize I'm going to get you back for this don't you?" I blew him a kiss and fluttered my eye lashes at him.

He chased Lauren around the kitchen island, around the dining room table and finally caught her in the Den where he pinned her to the floor and tickled her until she couldn't breath.

Good times.

Take a Minute

I know you've come for snark and giggles.

But please take a few minutes and go here.

Sign the petition.

SAVE THE NET.

WHY DOES HE DO THAT?!!!!!!!!

This is the third time in a month I have gone to the bathroom and there has been no toilet paper on the roll. Three guesses to who the last person was in the bathroom and the first two don't count.

I'll even give you a couple of hints:

1 - Lauren has her own bathroom.

2 - Only Charles and I use our bathroom.

Why can't he understand that I just can't shake mine dry? Why do I have to be reduced to pulling off miniscule bits of TP off the roll that are still GLUED to it? Why am I reduced to wiping myself with only enough TP to cover the tip of my index finger? What happens if I have to perfume the bathroom with potpourri (you get what I'm trying to say here right)? What in the hell am I going to do then? Why do I have to be reduced to doing the crouching duck walk to the cabinet to get TP and then back again to clean up? Is it because Toilet Paper doesn't begin with an "S" like SEX and SLEEP that he can't comprehend the importance of it?

I love that man but I swear, the next time I end up with a naked toilet paper roll, I'm going to get one of his shirts and apologize later for the dampness. "Oh sorry dear, I must not have left it hanging out on the clothes line long enough. No, I don't smell anything funny. . . or maybe the baby needs to be changed. Have a nice day at work!"

Do Things Like This Only Happen To ME?

Okay, okay. I've never professed to be the most sensitive person on earth. I think my blog title shows that, but I'm mostly harmless, really. I try to respect other people's beliefs. I am starting to broaden my horizons in many aspects of my life and learn more about different things that I would have been closed off to before.

One of those things is religion. Shoot me if you want, but Mary Chapen Carpenter said it best "Forgiveness doesn't come with a debt." Here Here. But I have started going back to church, well okay I started going to church - minus the "back" part. I wasn't brought up in the church and have forged my own relationship with God over time. I love him, he loves me and we both get a good laugh out of some of the stuff he pulls - because we all know GOD does have his little jokes.

Getting to the point. Lauren has gone to Revival every summer with my HIL (Horror-in-law for those of you that are new) and really enjoys it. My neighbors S and J started going to this little Baptist church about 2 miles from my house - roughly the size of a shoe box - and S highly recommended it. That carried a lot of weight with me. I think quite highly of S. She is one of the most down to earth people I have ever met and will accept you for who you are, no questions asked. I like that. I respect her, so when she said something good about a church, I paid attention.

We started going to the earlier services so Lauren could go to Sunday School. That first Sunday, I sat through the regular service while Lauren was in Sunday School and when it was time for her to go to children's church, I was resigned to listening to the same service all over again - good thing I brought my Sudoku book and a pencil. The preacher comes up to me and says "You're not going to sit through the sermon again are you?" "Yeah, Lauren is in Childrens Church so I'm here for a little while." "Well, they have bible school down stairs for adults. You could try that if you want. I mean, I'm good, but not that good." SNICKER ~I love that preacher~

I'm sitting in the Fellowship Hall with a bunch of people I haven't seen before sitting in one of those metal folding chairs, and this guy starts going on about adultery. I'm listening like a good girl. He's got my attention. Next he starts talking about how we should try to learn a verse of the bible every week or so and then starts talking about a fellow he knows that has memorized almost the entire bible word for word. And then he says...

He once told me there are X (I don't remember how many he said) many passages in the bible related to adultery and you should learn them all so that the next time you are tempted by lust, you should repeat them in your head because there is just no way you can feel lustful and recite verses from the bible at the same time."

That did it for me. I was immediately picturing in my head, Charles and I about to do the dirty deed and tried at the same time to say the Lord's Prayer. I started cracking up. It started off real slow and I couldn't keep the smile off my face, I casually raised my hand to cover it. I started to laugh harder and noticed my body was starting to shake so I faked a few coughs to cover it up, but it was not use. I couldn't stop laughing. I was thinking to myself "Who is going to do this? Is there a piece of ass out there that is so wonderful you gotta break down and pray to keep from getting your groove on?" I started laughing so hard tears were rolling down my face. I snorted. This guy who is infront of a whole class of adults turns to me and says "Are you going to be alright?"

In between cackles I said "Yes (gasp) I'll be fine." and then I just couldn't hold it back anymore.

I busted out laughing. I laughed so hard my stomach hurt, right there in front of everybody. I laughed, and laughed and laughed.

I felt like an ass. I really did, but damn it, I like going to church even more now.

Doctor, I Feel a Pulse!

I'm baaaack!

Don't be afraid. I'm harmless - except for the rabies. he he

I'm sorry I have neglected my blog and yours. I've had some family business to attend to. Now it's time to torture you again. AREN'T YOU EXCITED? (don't lie to yourself, you know you are)

I want to point you in the direction of a new blog that I have found. It's called Post Me A Secret - you may have seen it on my side bar already. It's similar to Post Secret, with the main exception of.... regular Joes and Joe-ette's can email their secrets and they'll be posted for the entire world to see, and it's done anonymously. It's good for getting that stress off your chest (or anywhere else you store it). There's also a comment section, so you get feed back on your secret. It's not just updated on Sundays so you don't have to wait in tortured silence to see if you'll be posted or not. The most important thing about this blog is that I really want to know your business - so go visit and send in your sin. I wanna read all about it.

That's it for now I'm afraid. The baby wants a beer and Hubby needs his diaper changed...er...you know what I mean.

Where is the Calgon when you need it?

The Bitch is Back

Hey Everybody!
I got an email from my brother Jason in Iraq! ~whooping and hollering~

Don't ask me where he is, because I have no idea. Do you remember me posting this? His email below just confirms that the love he has for his little sister is still there.~sniffles, wiping tear from eye~

God I miss his sorry ass, and I have this strange feeling that he really wants me to kick him in the nuts. - Call it a gut feeling - LOL

The email is below - slightly edited. (It's family business)

Subject Line: sup bitch

hey ya trick ass bitch,
i'm glad i got your e-mail. don't worry it doesn't cost me any money to send e-mails, i'm at the MWR where what little bit they got is free.

DELETED

other than that drama, everything here still sucks. its starting to get really hot here. it's really hot during the day. well over 100 degrees every day. it's even hot at night. when the wind blows it like somebody turned on a hair dryer. OR you could just be breathing in my face (that would explain the funky smell too). just think, it's only going to get hotter. between 130 and 140 in july and august.
so, give Lauren and Connor a hug and kiss from Uncle Jason. tell yer old man i said "Hey!" as for you... make sure you wear make-up so people don't confuse your face with your ass. LOLOLOLOLOLOL!!!
i love you bitch. take care and drop me another line.
sorry i haven't written, i didn't have your e-mail address.
love you,

JASON



Kinda makes you weepy doesn't it.

Fun with Flax Seed

As promised to Kevin, I'm gonna tell you a little story.

It's an emotional story. It will warm you heart. It will bring tears to your eyes. It will make you laugh, because it's a story about farting.

Yes dear friends, Nikki the Great farts. Are you shocked? Are you aghast? Well, you would have been if you had been around in this little incident. Oh, wait, sorry. I meant a gasp.

Hubby and I have changed the way we eat. We no longer subscribe to the southern mode of cooking for everything. Here in the south, just about everything is fried and they still use lard. Yes, I said lard. Crisco is for those high faluten folks, real southerners use lard. Cholesterol only comes into question for people when they go to the Dr.

Dr - Your triglycerides, LDLs and HDL don't look good. You should really start trying to cut back ...

Everything else is tuned out. Wife and Hubby go out to the car.

Hubby -Mama, did you hear or understand anything he just said?

Wife - Well Daddy, I think he said something about cut.... Cut something.... Hmmmm. Do you think he was telling you to get a hair cut?

Hubby - Well, maybe so Mama... (thoughtful look on face) Let's go to the barber shop and then we'll head over to Tony's Breaded and Deep Fried for the buffett. I could eat a pretty sizable steak and a baked potato about the size of a station wagon.

Wife - (giggle) Daddy you are so clever. (giggle) Don't forget the trimmin's (finger wagging).

Well, that may be a little exaggerated, but it's not to far off the mark. Charles and I are a bit different. He was diagnosed with Diabetes a couple of years ago and his cholesterol was scary.
After we left the Dr's office, I was in shock. Hubby was in deep shock,and started saying some rather depressing things that alarmed me - and because I am the loving, caring, understanding wife that I am, I told him:

Shut the fuck up. You don't have cancer, you aren't going to die. We'll do what we need to do to get a handle on this. Pull yourself together.

Harsh? Yeah, it was harsh, but Hubby was starting to freak me out with some of the stuff he was saying and my response got his attention and snapped him out of his funk.

We went home, cleaned out the pantry of all the bad stuff (which wasn't much) and went to ...THE HEALTH FOOD STORE - Dum Da DUM DUM DDDDUUUUUUUUUUUUUUMM!

We eventually found a store here locally that sells stuff especially for diabetics. WE LOVED THAT STORE (it eventually closed). We got sugar free chocolate chips and sugar free syrup and good for you pasta and bread. We found cookie mixes and all kinds of great stuff that Charles could eat. I'm not the type to sit in front of my man and grub on a really big bowl of ice cream with chocolate syrup and sprinkles unless he can have some too- that's just wrong, so we ALL changed the way that we ate. Not just Charles. It's there that we found FLAX SEED.(insert psycho sound track here)

We thought it would be good to add a bit to what ever we cooked to help with his cholesterol. Just a sprinkle was required, just a touch.

Well, I WAS COOKING ONE EVENING (what in the hell was I thinking?) and we were having horrible tasting food (because I was cooking) for dinner. Thankfully, Charles came home and took over before I did to much damage and rescued the meal(it was thankful and so were we). I had cut up everything that needed to be cut up. I had prepped everything according to recipe. Except the flax seed. It was in a bowl and had not yet been measured, but I was so relieved that he was cooking dinner, I immediately pushed all thoughts of me having to cook out of my mind and busied myself with something else that needed to be done (because there is always something). In other words, I forgot all about it.

Charles added it to the meat loaf. THE WHOLE DAMN BOWL. Oh, the meatloaf was good. We exclaimed at what a good taste it had, how unusual, how well it went with the sauce that he had whipped up and put on top (we are connoisseurs of meatloaf at my house). Charles of course took it as his due and even threw me a bone. "You got everything together. You helped." I of course felt suitably petted and blew him a kiss.

We cleaned up the kitchen and dining room and all went into the living room where Lauren and Charles turned on the boob tube and I picked up some craft or another that I was working on.
A few minutes later, I started to cramp. "Ouch" I thought. "Meatloaf isn't sitting quite right"

The house was suddenly filled with a green toxic fog and it didn't come from just me. Charles farted so hard, the force of his emissions shoved him against the wall where he was briefly pinned at the waist and could only kick his feet and wave his hands until it was over. Lauren and I did the only thing we could think of: DUCK AND COVER! We would have laughed at him when he slid to the floor in exhaustion, but we both knew taking a deep breath would be a big mistake.

We opened the windows and aired out the house. Everyone did the obligatory visit to the bathroom to get it out of our systems, and we were mostly fine for the rest of the night - the occasional fart was forgiven as long as you had the decentcy to point your butt in the opposite direction of someone's face.

Of course, I had to go to work the next day, and we all know it takes more than one visit to the bathroom to get everything out of your system. I should have called in sick, or stinky, or crampy, or something. I didn't. Oops.

Now, I keep air freshener in my desk drawer because some of my clients haven't figured out how to work a spigot and soap is only something they may occasionally use on their hands if it's Saturday. I nicknamed a couple of them Onion People - you know, they stink so bad they make your eyes tear up. When ever they leave, I liberally spray my office with air freshener and beat feet outside while the stink and the fresh fight it out. Sometimes I have to respray. Sad, but true.

All morning long, when ever one of my co-workers would stick their head in my office - they would ask when the Onion People have been there and tell me I needed to respray. You and I both know that the Onion People didn't show up that day. It was me. I did it. I was farting so hard and long I could have challenged Shaggy and Scooby and won. By the afternoon, people stopped coming by.

Wonder why?