The Push-Pop Trend

Looks like the long-standing cupcake trend has had a make-over.  And you know what?  I totally dig it!  I’m honked off that I didn’t think of this in the first place.  Of course, the first thing my cheap self thought when I saw these was, “Hope!  I can make push-ups with that cheap sherbet and my kid will never know they’re not the grossly over-priced rainbow ones!”

You can find these push-pop containers at the Layer Cake Shop (my fave place for baking supplies).  I can’t wait to make some of these myself.   These are a few that are inspiring me to binge on cake batter and sprinkles.  (Click on image to visit site).


Time Flies

As of today, my daughter has wrapped up her first week of Kindergarten.  On her first day, her Daddy and I cried like she was going off to college, never to return.  It seems like yesterday that she crawled into Porterfield Day School in purple pants with ruffles.  Now she wears a uniform (that she hates), has a lopsided haircut and tells us to leave the classroom to spare her from embarrassment and shame.

Truly, I’m trying to keep up…but it’s becoming more and more evident that I’m going to be one of those moms who hide in bushes and spy on other kids so I can know what’s cool, what’s not and everything in between.  I have no shame.  I don’t care if Cali goes to school and hears, “Hey, Cali.  We saw your Mom again last night, skulking around in the bushes with a submarine style periscope trying to read what we were texting.”   I’m sure she’ll reply with, “I’m adopted.”

Anyway…here’s her first day of Kindy-garden….and a slide show of how far she’s come, baby.

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You Know You’re Ghetto If…

Did I mention that I live in the capital of Ghetto?  Well, FYI…Ghetto was born right here.  We have chicken bones in our Walmart parking lot and hair weaves that tumble along the sides of country roads like tumble-weaves.  (All of this is the gospel truth).  You may ask yourself…”What IS ghetto?”  Well, let me give you a few pictorial examples to wet your curiosity.

Ghetto Kitchen

Ghetto Fly-Swatter

Ghetto Mac & Cheese

Ghetto Bride

Ghetto Emergency Room

Ghetto Leaf Blower

Ghetto Refrigerator

Ghetto Lid

Ghetto Drive-Thru

Ghetto Computer Fan

Ghetto Bathroom Rules

Ghetto Relaxation

Ghetto Dog Leash

Ghetto Bill Paying

Ghetto Doughnut Shop

David Slater and the Monkeys

“They aren’t known for being particularly clever like chimps, just inquisitive. Despite probably never having any contact with humans before, they didn’t seem to feel threatened by our presence.”

That’s what photographer, David Slater, (pictured above) said about these Indonesian crested black macaques BEFORE they swiped his camera and started taking Facebook-worthy self portraits.  Perhaps they felt it necessary to shoot down the myth of chimps being smarter.  And who can blame them, really?  Truth be told, back in my early 20’s, I hung out with some pretty cool people who looked a lot like these macaques…so looking at these pics was like a walk down memory lane.

I wish my chronically depressed cat would take a self-portrait of her pathetic self so I could maybe sell it and have enough money to buy her expensive gimpy bowel food AND keep my lights on.

Casey Anthony: The White O.J.?

Unless you live under a rock, you’ve no doubt heard that Casey Anthony was found not-guilty today on all counts with the exception of lying to police officers.  To say I was shocked to hear this verdict would be a gross understatement.

I know that justice is SUPPOSED to prevail…but does it?  Really?  Or only now and then?  Does the crime have to be videotaped and narrated to be considered valid?  Or was this particular case a prime example of a crappy prosecution who couldn’t make their case?  A bottomless pit of reasonable doubt?

And why is it that the media always gets blamed for a negative judicial outcome?  Shouldn’t our legal leaders have the ability to block out such things and focus on what they SHOULD be focused on?  If a jury is grossly influenced by the media, then it’s an immoral travesty for them to remain on a jury panel.  The media has and always will grab hold of a sensational story and run with it.  That’s their job.  Sure, they go overboard….but they shouldn’t shoulder the blame of mishandled criminal trials.

On a personal note, I cannot accept this verdict.  Not when an innocent child’s life was completely dismissed due to the absence of muscle and tissue on her skeletal remains.  But karma?  That’s the one thing I do have perfect faith in.  Because no matter the verdict or opinion of twelve people “tried and true”….the ultimate verdict is flawless and perfectly just.

So here’s the soon-to-be-free Casey Anthony….the majority of these pictures taken AFTER her daughter went missing.  Sometimes actions speak far more than words or evidence.

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Phobias, Bolsheviks and Vile Odors

I’ve got a couple of phobias.  Clowns (I will punch a clown OWT!), mimes (I will punch a mime OWT!) and heights.  I have different reactions for each phobia.  For instance, when I’m up too high, my butt cheeks have a seizure.  When I see a clown, I have to suppress violence….and when I see a mime, I want to shake it like a martini and force it to speak.  I particularly don’t like it when mimes and clowns get in your face and want to interract and make eye contact.  This only intensifies my phobic reactions.  So if I see one of them approaching, I point directly at them and cock my head to the side, as if to say, “You get any closer and I’ll beat the brakes off you AND the horse you rode in on.”

In my studies, I have found that there are some jacked up phobias out there.  I admit I’d like to hang out with some of these phobics just to see what their particular phobic reactions are.  Like Bolshephobia.  A fear of Bolsheviks.  Really?  A Bolshevik?  Don’t sit there and act like you wouldn’t want to wag a Bolshevik in front of their face just to see.  You know you’d do it.  I know I would.

So here are some of my phobic faves.  Don’t be skeered.

*  Autodysomophobia – Fear of one that has a vile odor.

*  Automatonophobia – Fear of ventriloquist’s dummies, animatronic creatures, wax statues; anything that falsely represents a sentient being.

*  Bromidrosiphobia or Bromidrophobia- Fear of body smells.

*  Defecaloesiophobia- Fear of painful bowels movements.

*  Helminthophobia- Fear of being infested with worms.

*  Hippopotomonstrosesquipedaliophobia- Fear of long words.

*  Koinoniphobia- Fear of rooms.  Awkward.

*  Lutraphobia- Fear of otters.

*  Metrophobia- Fear or hatred of poetry.

*  Omphalophobia- Fear of belly buttons.

*  Ophthalmophobia- Fear of being stared at.

*  Papaphobia- Fear of the Pope.

*  Peladophobia- Fear of bald people.

*  Pentheraphobia- Fear of mother-in-law. (Novercaphobia)

*  Polyphobia- Fear of many things.

*  Rhabdophobia- Fear of being severely punished or beaten by a rod, or of being severely criticized. Also fear of magic.(wand)

*  Syngenesophobia- Fear of relatives.

*  Thaasophobia- Fear of sitting.

*  Walloonphobia- Fear of the Walloons.

*  Zemmiphobia- Fear of the great mole rat.

All Hail Dale. Genius Dad!

I’ve already got a list of things I plan to do when Cali hits the tweens.  Things that will make her question her origin.  Like pretend to be deaf at parent teacher conferences.  Laugh if you want….but the “Deaf Ruse” is one of the most popular tools in my manipulation tool bag.

Picture it.  A full flight, crammed in between a mouth breather and an elderly woman with a colostomy bag.  The oh-so-not-perky air attendant swears to holy god that there aren’t any pillows left, all the blankets are in first class and no more snacks for coach.  Enter in the Deaf Ruse.  I call the air attendant over, nodding quickly to let her know I was a wee bit challenged, then commenced to making jacked up hand signals and mouthing, “May I please have a pillow?”

Oh hark, the change in demeanor!  I got a pillow, a blanket, two more snacks and liquor.  If the air attendant had been paying attention, she would’ve noticed that I was listening to my iPod.  They don’t screen ’em like they used to.

Anyway…let me tell you about Dale.  He’s a stay-at-home dad who came up with a genius idea that would humiliate his 16 year old son down to the ground.  Every morning when the bus would come to pick up the kid….here’d come dad.  All dressed up in crazy stuff.  CRAZY!  Every single day…waving at the bus!  Some major news outlets caught wind of his shenanigans and invited him to come on down…Inside Edition, Good Morning America, Fox News.

Dale had the good sense to blog about all this mess.  You can see all 170 costumes over at Wave At The Bus.  Dale…you’re one helluva guy!  Enjoy your Daddy Day!