Dear Parents who think it's a charming and innovative idea to 'gift' children who attend your kid's parties with the blessing of a fish as their loot bag, fuck off with that shit RIGHT NOW.
So far, my children have been to 2 separate parties and have brought home a total of 4 fish.
Wonder-fucking-ful.
2 Betta fish (who actually ARE quite lovely little fish) and 2 goldfish (who are dirty, filthy, disgusting pigs).
The bettas came first. Each in a separate little vase with gravel and a packet of food. Now I know that bettas, in their own environment, can be raised practically in a puddle but they're in MY environment now and I can't say that I'm all to cracked on cleaning their tanks out every 4-7 days. I have other shit I need to do. Like blog.
If you think the solution is to have my children clean the tanks, think again. Who exactly is going to clean up after THEM? A 4 year old and an 8 year old have no business cleaning filthy shitwater in MY kitchen.
Then came the goldfish.
When I saw my kids arriving home with them I thought I was going to puke.
Really? Honestly? Fuck sakes.
And then it got REAL bad.
The goldfish are disgusting. And leaving them in their little carrying cases was also not going to be an option because I'd have to clean out THEIR tanks about every 20 m-f-ing minutes.
So, what are my options?
Kill the fish and have to explain it to my kids or spend money we DON'T have on getting these stupid 'gifts' better housing.
Well, I can't say that I give a shit about what my bank thinks of me but I DO care about what my kids think of me so into overdraft I go!
First came the bigger tanks and more gravel. Oh and food. And of course we now have to buy them soft fake plants because really, how much pleasure is there in a captive fish's existence? Exactly. None. A fake plant will make these fish think they've died and gone to the bottom of the lake. Geez - I almost forgot about the water conditioner you MUST have in order for their survival and of course, aquarium salt. Oh yeah, and no matter how big a tank you invest in, unless you still want to clean it every week you have to get a filtration system. Yup. Oh and don't forget the heater for the bettas because if the water isn't a certain temperature, they will become very unhappy and therefore, the children will become unhappy. Just like the morning we all woke up and saw that one of the children's fish wasn't moving around very much and seemed to have lost his 'spirit'. (Shut. Up.)
This led to an emergency trip across town to buy medicine, which I have discovered, is quite hard to locate. The good news is that the fish, by some miracle of miracles, is better.
The bad news is that these 'free' fish have now cost me well over a hundred dollars and the debt just keeps on growing.
So, parents, the next time you think it's fun or cool to have a LIVE ANIMAL as a loot bag at your children's party, DON'T. Or else I'm showing up with a kitten at YOUR house. A kitten with a belly full of fish.
My brush with Greatness
A few years ago my husband and I were lucky enough to see Willie Nelson perform when he came to our town.
Now, I have some WAY back memories of the Great Willie Nelson, mostly involving me and my Dad driving around in our 1976 Mercury Comet listening to Stardust on 8-Track! Ah, THOSE were the good ol' days, eh? Back then the only thing keeping me from flying through the windshield when we had to come to a sudden stop would be my Dad's right arm, rigid across my guts, desperately holding me in place on top of the armrests between the 2 front bucket seats. So wonderful - so carefree - so stupid!
Anyway, back to the concert.
So because I LOVE my husband so much, I stood in line for these tickets VERY early one morning. It paid off - we were 2nd row centre. Heaven!
I kept looking right at Willie and he kept staring RIGHT AT ME! Amazing! Simply AMAZING!
We created a bond that I desperately wanted to capture with my camera so I waited until his song was over (not wanting to break OUR bond) and I put my head down to turn my camera on, adjust the settings etc., and then I feel a 'woosh' over my head. I knew instantly what had happened.
I look at my husband beside me. He's looking at me with wide eyes and mouth agape.
I calmly ask - "Did Willie Nelson, my hero of heroes, connector beyond time and space with my dead Dad, just throw his hat at me and it sailed over my head?"
"Yes." he says.
"WHY didn't you make a grab for it?!!?"
"Because if I HAD made a grab for the hat sweetheart, I would have knocked you out."
"Y'know what? For the record - I'm certain I'd much rather be having this conversation in an ambulance, ok?"
And now he knows.
A poncho is nature's way of telling the world - "Don't rob me! I have nothing!"
The same goes for carrying a half-filled drippy garbage bag around. No one will mess with you.
So if you ever see anyone in a poncho carrying a garbage bag, there's likely at least a hundred thousand dollars stuffed into their underpants.
The same goes for carrying a half-filled drippy garbage bag around. No one will mess with you.
So if you ever see anyone in a poncho carrying a garbage bag, there's likely at least a hundred thousand dollars stuffed into their underpants.
Every tarot card, tea leaf, palm reader and psychic I've ever been to had always told me that I would live to a ripe old age. Nice! Then I got to thinking...the next time I see one of these types of professionals I really need to ask a question - "Do you see or sense a number in your head when you say this or do you have some sort of vision of me as an old lady in your head?"
Because truthfully and honestly, if they see a vision of an old lady it could just be me as a hard-lookin' 54 year old.
Seriously.
Because truthfully and honestly, if they see a vision of an old lady it could just be me as a hard-lookin' 54 year old.
Seriously.
Cougar vs. Crow
Why do we call women over 40 who are out and about looking for love ‘Cougars’?
I get the idea of them being ‘out on the prowl’ but I think that’s where the similarity ends.
Personally, I think these ladies should be called Crows.
I’m not trying to be rude but let’s just look at this for a minute…
Crows generally do not travel in large numbers.
Now, unless we’re counting those ‘red hat’ ladies here,
which we are not,
most Crows will either be on their own or maybe with a friend, possibly two.
How do you know when you’ve spotted a Crow?
Well, generally they WILL be dressed in black but yet somehow, they will have incorporated some kind of shiny thing into their outfit.
Crows love shiny things.
And much like a Crow, you will not want to look one directly in the eye for fear of them putting some sort of curse on you or perhaps even stealing your soul.
If you are still not certain if you have spotted a bona fide Crow, approach them carefully and cautiously - with no sudden movements.
Sneak up from the back if you can.
Then look, there to the side of the eye, will be the mark of the bird.
And there they are. Bless them.
Scanning the crowd, looking for ‘Cawk!’
I get the idea of them being ‘out on the prowl’ but I think that’s where the similarity ends.
Personally, I think these ladies should be called Crows.
I’m not trying to be rude but let’s just look at this for a minute…
Crows generally do not travel in large numbers.
Now, unless we’re counting those ‘red hat’ ladies here,
which we are not,
most Crows will either be on their own or maybe with a friend, possibly two.
How do you know when you’ve spotted a Crow?
Well, generally they WILL be dressed in black but yet somehow, they will have incorporated some kind of shiny thing into their outfit.
Crows love shiny things.
And much like a Crow, you will not want to look one directly in the eye for fear of them putting some sort of curse on you or perhaps even stealing your soul.
If you are still not certain if you have spotted a bona fide Crow, approach them carefully and cautiously - with no sudden movements.
Sneak up from the back if you can.
Then look, there to the side of the eye, will be the mark of the bird.
And there they are. Bless them.
Scanning the crowd, looking for ‘Cawk!’
Fartiquette - Vol. 2
I don’t know what the etiquette is regarding farting in bed when you’re the little spoon in the spooning position and you know your partner’s asleep.
You can hear them snoring, you know they’re asleep and you’re just so cosy there all spooned up together and you’ve gotta fart…what do you do?
Do you ‘break the spoon’ and risk waking them up and then you fart?
Then of course you run the risk of them pulling the blankets up, because they don’t know you’ve farted and accidentally end up giving BOTH of you a blast from the Dutch Oven.
Is the alternative is to stay in spoon position and just fart?
On their junk?
That seems a little rude…especially if the heat from the fart, on their junk, wakes them up. Plus, really, I am a BIG fan of the junk.
I like to do things to the junk.
But not after it’s been farted on! Gross.
Then there’s that awkward thing in the morning if he says –
‘Hey baby, the kids are still asleep…you wanna get it on?’
“Uhhhm…why don’t we have a shower first?’
‘I don’t need a shower.’
‘Oh, no, LET’S have a shower. F’reals.’
Can you see THIS play out in
Judge – “After reviewing the case I’ve decided to split everything evenly.”
Husband – “But your Honour, she farted on my junk during the ENTIRE marriage!”
Judge – “Is this true?”
Wife – “No.”
Judge – “May I remind you that you’re still under Oath?”
Wife – (sobbing) “Yes your Honour, it’s true. It’s all true!”
Judge – “In light of this I am revoking my decision. Sir, you will get the house and the car. And as for you, you get the kids and the debt.”
Wife – “NOOOO!!! WHY DIDN’T I BREAK SPOOOON!!?!!?!”
I guess that’s the answer here.
Break the spoon.
A Dutch Oven is no picnic but it’s better than a divorce, I suppose.
Fartiquette
The entire farting etiquette in a relationship isn’t specifically laid out anywhere, is it?
Sadly, there’s no real handbook for the finer points.
There’s the usual stuff, y’know…you’re doin’ it and someone farts and it’s like ‘giggle giggle, tee hee’ maybe a quick ‘scuse me and then back to the business at hand, right?
Sure but what about the specifics of situations like when it’s cold and you’re bundled into the blankets havin’ a go and someone farts…what should you do with the blankets?
Do you pull them tight up around the both of you and carry on?
Right inside that Dutch Oven? Well that’s not sexy!
And what if you fail at keeping the blankets tight because if you’ve got your groove on (inside that filthy Dutch Oven) you’re suddenly pumping out all of that fart air up into your face?
Not Hot!
Or maybe Too Hot?
Either way, a potential mood killer for sure.
I suppose the only real option is to fart and fling the blankets off of you.
Go away bad smell – you are not sexy!
There should be pamphlets at the drugstore for this.
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