dawnolsen.com

Three's Company

Well, actually in my house it will be more like six is company since there are the five of us sucking up oxygen in this humble abode. But we can always make room for good friends.

I will be TRYING to post even though I am scrubbing my gross house in anticipation of a visit from a good friend. He is braving the blizzards of the northeast and flying into lovely Cleveland for a wintery stay. Word of advice, Cleveland in the winter is not much of a tourist site, but hey, like Craig says here, Cleveland has it's own unique charm.

So I was thinking, the only time I really clean my house, and by clean I mean: get in the corner and suck up the dust bunnies, scrub the soap scum out of the shower, vacumn under the furniture, disinfect all surfaces, change the sheets and put out clean linens, is when company is coming. It wasn't terrible, as I did it in December thinking I was going to have company, but that visit never happened. It's like a full time job for a whole week and I really make a point of doing a good job.

But the question is why? Gosh I don't know. My mom never did such things, and I have visited other people who couldn't be bothered to do really ANYTHING in anticipation of my visit. I guess it's just something you do to show you care, and since I can't afford to feed my guest, the next best thing is at least making their starvation hygenic and pleasant.

Ahhh, I can't wait until Lily gets a hold of our pal, he just doesn't know what awaits him. Nothing says torture like the smell of fresh, unsuspecting meat in the eyes of a four-year-old. Can you say "Let's watch Cinderella again?" forty times?

hehehe

Dean's Rocking The Free World

Yes, I know Howard Dean's famous Yeeeeaaaahhhhhh has pretty much been done, but this is good for so many laughs.

I am surprised no one has done a Huey Lewis, The Heart Of Rock Roll version yet.

I mean these lyrics are begging for a Deanmakeover:

D.C., San Antone and the Liberty town, Boston and Baton Rouge
Tulsa, Austin, Oklahoma City, Seattle, San Francisco, too
Everywhere there's music, real live music, bands with a million styles
But it's still that same old rock and roll music that really drives 'em wild

In Cleveland
Detroit...heart of rock and roll

I still think that Lileks' is the best yet, and it really pains me to say it.

BTW - the heart of rock and roll is NOT in Cleveland. It's too fucking cold for anything to be beating here, 'cept of course my head on a wall.

Okay I am done. Thanks for playing folks, have a nice weekend.

Update: I think the reason Lileks works so well is the frantic feel to it, nothing says lunatic like a little siren action.

A Little Embarrassed

I am hoping that no one noticed my new ad. Yes the one for the mini-cams, which to me, is equivalent to porn or selling Viagra. I know it's kind of lame and cheesy, but I don't choose who advertises on my site, I merely agree to accept or deny, and well, I am in position to deny anyone at this point. If they want to pay $15 dollars a month to advertise on my site, I guess you can sell anything you want.*

So if there are any freaks, say some transgender sites looking for an upstanding gal to hock your wares on, I am the low-rent mother fucker you are looking for. I don't turn ANYONE away.

Better get me while I am cheap, you never know when I will become really popular and can be picky about my advertisers. That might happen like, say, 2000 n' never.

(This beats begging for donations don't ya think?)

*Within reason - I absolutely oppose anything involving children, er I mean, anything illegal, infact, I will hunt you down and kill you, just so you know.

This is a good as it gets

Seriously folks, my blog isn't going to improve. What you see is what you get. I am neither funny, nor interesting, so if you are waiting for the opportunity to tell me to go away, wait no more.

The lack of comments by the three of you who keep hitting the wrong button is killing my soul. Dead blogs get more love than I do.

If you have any suggestions on how to liven things up, well by all mean don't hold out on me.

GOOD NEWS, doctor says I can have sex again. BAD NEWS, who the hell cares.

"Dear Ben" (The Updated Version)

I JUST CAN'T CONTROL MYSELF
I CAN'T SEEM TO GET OVER MYSELF
IT SEEMS I'M DISGUSTED BY THE WAY YOU LIKE TO TOUCH ME
I HOPE YOU"LL UNDERSTAND
WHY I AM DUMPING YOUR LOSER ASS
FROM THE WORDS YOU SPEAK SO DEEP
YOU LIKE YOUR WOMAN SKANKY AND CHEAP

{CHORUS}
I LOVED YOU, BUT YOU'RE A DIRTBAG
YOU COULD HAVE HAD MY AMPLE ASS
AND ABOUT A MILLION DIFFERENT THINGS
BUT DIDDY HAS MORE MONEY
HE CAN BUY ME ANYTHING

I THINK GOD MADE YOU A LITTLE STUPID
A MIX OF SHITFORBRAINS AND INFIDELITY
BABY YOU'RE SO DUMPED
I WROTE THIS SONG TO LET YOU KNOW
THAT YOU WILL ALWAYS BE
TO ME, MY LATEST FUCK,MY PUBLICIST WILL CONTACT YOU,NO YOU AIN'T GETTING THAT RING BACK, AND THANKS FOR BUYING MY MOMMA THAT MERCEDES SUCKA

{CHORUS}
I LOVED YOU, BUT YOU'RE A DIRTBAG
YOU COULD HAVE HAD MY AMPLE ASS
AND ABOUT A MILLION DIFFERENT THINGS
BUT DIDDY HAS MORE MONEY
HE CAN BUY ME ANYTHING
YOU HAD TO KNOW I'D LEAVE
'CUZ IN REALITY
IT'S ALL ABOUT J.LO
YOU WERE LIVING IN A FANTASY.

(thank goodness that trainwreck is over - I always liked her with P.Diddy anyway, somehow, they seem MADE for each other.)

My Son Is So Effing Great!!

I was just thinking as I gazed down at my sleeping bundle of joy, my kid is just so fucking awesome I don't have the vocabulary to describe it.

He just makes these goofy fucking faces and little squeaks that let me know that in fact, he is the FUCKING BOMB. Maybe it's because HE LOOKS SO FUCKING MUCH LIKE ME that I have that "special" feeling, but more likely it's because he is such a cute little fucker.

Hell, even his little mustardy-looking craps ROCK THE FUCKING CASBAH!

Honestly, I spend my whole day just whispering sweet nothings in his ear about what smart, strong, sweet, handsome little fucking joy he is.

Sometimes I even find myself repeating myself with this very phrase, "I love you little fucker, you know that? Mommy just loves your fucking ass."

ROCK ON, LITTLE FUCKING MAN, ROCK ON!!

(A Dawn Olsen original by request)

Not So Newlyweds: Dawn and Eric

I am ashamed to admit it, but I love the MTV generated entertainment du jour, The Newlyweds: Jessica Simpson and Nick Lachey. Yes it's lame, yes it's silly, but damn, I find them to be likable, especially that Jessica. See some think she is dumb, but after intensive study, I think she is just "innocent" and "sweet" - you know, kind of like I am. Well, at least the innocent part.

See, the reason that show works so well is because Jessica is so "ignorant" on so many, many, MANY subjects. Take for example the "Chicken of The Sea" episode. Poor Jessica, she takes everything at face value and has been sheltered her whole life that cooking, cleaning and basic fundamental skills of existing are new to her. Rather than belittling her, what Nick should be doing is what Eric does when I pull a Jessicaism, or as they are called in my house, a "Dawnism".

Instead of thinking of how stupid Jessica is, Nick should look at each of this scenarios as an opportunity to teach and mold Jessica into the kind of "woman" he wants her to be.

This morning is a great example of how The Olsen's parallel The Lachey's.

While Eric was taking his morning bath, which is not at all a fruity thing for a man to do, I was busy preparing Alex for an exciting day of sleeping, eating and listening to mommy tell him whutahansomeliddlemanheis, over and over again in my exaggerated and annoying mommy voice.

Then without warning we lost electricity, (does one ever get warning of such things). It wasn't really "lost" it just wasn't finding its way to OUR house. Lily had spent the night at a friend's house (the first time ever - CONGRATS TO HER) and we were about to leave to get her. I ran upstairs to report the outage to Eric, only to discover he already knew, 'cuz his "not fruity" bath bubbles weren't working.

Suddenly a thought occurred to me. And I had the misfortune of voicing it.

"Eric, how will we be able to pick Lily up?"

"Um, what do you mean." he asked.

"Well, if the electricity is out, how can we get the car out of the garage. The garage door won't open without electricity." I confidently replied.

Eric looked perplexed, but rather than roll his eyes, his whole face lit up with anticipation. This was clearly an opportunity, and one he pounced on with boyish excitement.

"Dawn dear, do you really think in last 50 years of garage door technology and advancement in the science of garage door technicians it never occurred to them that the power might go out and people would need to open the door?"

I thought for a moment, all did not compute. Somewhere in my little pea brain I was convinced that the door was hermetically sealed for your protection and only electricity could open it. But instead I opened my mouth and out came, "Oh, yeah, I guess that makes sense."

You see Jessica, in time you will realize that you just can't fight the tide of overwhelming intelligence and reason, just do what your man says and smile as you go about pleasing him with your loyalty and subservience.

Be sure to tune in for the next episode: Dawn and Eric - Live and Unedited.

Blue Eyed Handsome Man

Perhaps it is presumptious of me to state that my son is the most handsome 5 1/2 week old in the tri-county area, but damn sometimes you must just state the obvious.

The person taking pictures sucks bigtime, but hey when you are that cute it doesn't matter!

Spending Quality Time

Sorry AGAIN for the lack of posting. My sister, mom and my niece and nephew came for an all too short of a visit. It was really great to see how the kids have grown and to watch them all play together. But as my sister says, three is the lonliest number, and with the three cousins, there seemed to be someone left out of the loop at any given time.

They all enjoyed meeting the newest member and their visit coincided with a milestone for Alex, he really smiles now and seems to be becoming a "settled" baby. I will post pictures of this amazingly cute toothless grin.

Things should be back to normal tomorrow. In case the three of you care.

The New Man In My Life

I remember before Alex was born thinking that I would have "trouble" loving a boy like I do my daughter. Someone wise told me to "not buy trouble" and I have been living that philosophy each day since.

Truth be told, I love my little man more than I thought I ever could. There is something to be said about a mother and son, and now I have the pleasure of experiencing that special bond. I am truly blessed with two little gifts from God.

(Picture courtesy of Mike Crooker, who took this at the Crooker annual Christmas party. He and his wife Liz and their children Andy and Lily were great hosts and the Vegan Menu was the BOMB!!! Thanks again Mike and Liz!!)

Comedic Genius

Just go here. Although most of you probably came from there already.

A Real Blog Pussy

Looks like Acidman finally revealed his true nature, and funny thing is, I really like his post now. Until he gets back anyway.

Nice job *Acidman* your blog finally has some class and humor:)

Sounds Tasty

I am proud to announce that the talented and sexy Ginger of CrispyDuck has teamed up and started a blog with another fine gal Candace (I don't know her as well, although I am sure she is sexy and talented too!) and created CandiedGinger.

Be hospitable and please say HI!!! - even though I spell it "HIGH" and get made fun by all kinds of pretentious assholes for doing so. BLOW ME.

mmmm.....candiedginger.....that sounds better than the crap I just ate for dinner: leftover surprise - it's no surprise it was leftover. UGH!!

To That Special Someone

I have something on my mind that I really need to get out before I lose perspective, so I am going to share my thoughts about that "special" someone who has really aggravated me right now, and many times in the past.

"You know, I thought that you were a nice person. Someone I could count on. Haven't I been there for you through the rough times, times when you could count your allies on one hand. A lot of damn good it did, you are just like every other selfish fucker in my life, you treat me like crap, you make promises you NEVER intend to keep, you lie like a dead bloated dog and you use me whenever it serves your purpose.

I really should rid myself of you, as you are a malignant tumor on my soul. But that would be against my nature. I told you I would always be there for you in good times and bad, and I am a person of my word. So for that I must suffer under the pretenses that you care about me, because CLEARLY, YOU SELFISH ASSHOLE, you don't.

So, now I say FUCK YOU, so that I may go back to being my usual doormat self and allow you to walk all over me until you get bored and find someone else to make a pincushion out of.

Thanks for nothing assplow."

No need to ask who that was for, it doesn't matter, they don't really give a fat fig.

WORSE THAN I GOT IT

Kat, who is the woman I want to be when I grow up, is having a really hard time. The kind of time one has just before they have a mental breakdown, tells everyone they think they love to "FUCK OFF INTO ETERNITY YOU SELFISH SHITS AND DIE" slam the door so hard it breaks stuff and then throw yourself down and cry like a little baby for your momma. Yes, I know this, I have done this.

While I think my life sucks serious schwappe for having no money, too many bills and no prospects on the horizon, her life sucks much worse because she has a bunch of thoughtless, selfish little shit teenagers in her life who need to be beaten with the "fuckyou" stick hard.

If you have any spare change or some words of encouragement for her as a mom, struggling writer or a CARING HUMAN BEING, please feel free to share. She needs it and deserves it.

BTW - Kat, I think you are a great writer and really NEED to make time to pursue your career.

Sorry Seems To Be The Hardest Word

It would seem Elton was on to something with that song. And it also seems perverse to discuss the nature of an apology, because an apology "should" stand on it's own merits right? WRONG.

Let's use the Pete Rose issue for example. Some say, "Hey the guy apologized, that should be enough" others say, myself included "He isn't truly contrite, and that means he didn't really learn from his mistake - don't let him in." Because there is a principle to be learned in all of this. Pete broke the cardinal sin in baseball, he bet on the very game he was assigned to protect the integrity of. It's not the sin that we are mad about, because everyone sins, it's his unwillingness to take REAL and TANGIBLE responsibility for his actions.

I have this conversation with Lily just about five times a day. It's like a rehashing of my own childhood. I would do something wrong, like back talk to my mom, disobey her wishes, behave in a manner that is unacceptable and she would send me to my room to reflect on my actions. I usually spent about ten or fifteen minutes just watching the clock, put on my sad and contrite face and slink out and apologize. It may have worked the first few times, but after while my mom just wasn't buying it. As she put it, "Dawn, there is more to an apology than just saying I am sorry. You have to actually mean it, understand what you did and try not to do it again." It took a long time for that to sink in, but when it finally did it made a lasting impression.

What I eventually decided was that I would never say I am sorry unless I meant it, understood what I did and would make every effort to not do it again. I am still trying to teach this to Lily. She seems to understand half of it, but the not "doing it again" part takes a long to time to master, and I suppose I can't expect anymore from her than I did from myself.

Today we were watching one of her kid shows and they had this very subject as their object lesson for the day, but with one caveat: saying you are sorry EVEN if you didn't mean to hurt the other person. Now that's a tough one.

Lily wanted to know why should someone have to say they are sorry if something was an accident and they didn't MEAN to do something. The quick answer would be "because it's the right thing to do." But that confuses my previous lesson of meaning it, understanding it and not doing it again. So I had to think about why someone would apologize for something that was not done on purpose.

The answer became obvious: another person was hurt by YOUR actions. It doesn't matter if you meant to or not.

"I didn't mean to run into your car, it was an accident, I am sorry."

"I didn't mean to forget to pick you up from school, it was an accident, I am sorry."

or in the words of John Lennon:

"I didn't mean to hurt you, I'm sorry that I made you cry, Oh no, I didn't want to hurt you, I'm just a jealous guy."

So, sometimes you say you are sorry because you DIDN'T MEAN to hurt the other person, and you feel bad and you want to make them feel better. In some ways that's a pretty noble thing to do if you think about it. Saying you are sorry when you don't have to, just because you care about another person's feelings.

"I am sorry readers for not posting, I didn't mean to make you cry, Oh no I didn't want to hurt you, I'm just a busy mom."

Hardcore LIBERALS: The new face of racism

What in the Sam Hell is going on in this country? When did some liberals take it upon themselves to become a bunch of racist, bigoted, tired old buttplugs?

Okay, I guess you can't really count people like Hesiod as a real "liberal" as he is clearly from another galaxy far, far away, but this kind of shit has gone too far.

Oh, I think I understand what's going on. See, if you are a person of color AND conservative then clearly your race can be used against you, because heaven forbid you not follow the stereotypical party-line of liberalism. If you are a conservative and also a minority in this country, then you have CLEARLY sold your soul to the "white devil" and have made a mockery of your race. It couldn't possibly be that you have educated yourself to the various political paths and ideologies and chosen the one that you feel best represents your values, beliefs and faith.

Furthermore, just because you also happen to be a minority/person of color/hue/black/creed/nationality/religion whatever, how does that give you the right to start race-bashing others - say for example here and here?

There seems to be a vast left-wing conspiracy going on here. It seems that certain liberals are trying to keep conservative, free thinking individuals, who happen to also be of a different race than whites, DOWN. Why is that?

Maybe it's just me, but I find it kind of duplicitous to call into question someone's race in a derogatory way just because their philosophy differs from your own, but then use that same race as a benefit when it suits your agenda.

It's no secret that Liberals traditionally have championed the dignity of minorities and their right to equal treatment, and then when some members of those minorities turn conservative they turn around and make slave jokes.

So tell me please, why is it okay for say, Jesse Jackson and Al Sharpton to use their race to polarize blacks to their political view, but to then turn around and use Colin Powell, Clarence Thomas or Condeleezza Rice's race against them to make a point about conservatives keeping the people (or their own race) down?

Certainly, even the most-blinded-by-their-own-hate-and-self-righteousness liberal, could see that this is slippery slope to take in defense of one's own beliefs and agenda.

If we are to be motivated to live in a color-blind society, where everyone is treated equal regardless of their race or their political agenda, how can we accomplish this when there are those who feel the need to point out stereotypes and base accusations solely on the color of another?

This kind of race-baiting is almost as offensive as all the Trent Lotts, Strom Thurmonds and Rush Limbaughs of the world. Almost anyway.

Oh, and screw you sideways Hesiod you worthless little tool.

(thanks to Kevin for original link)

Apology accepted - but does it change anything?

Pete Rose bet on baseball! And now, 15 years later he is sorry. Why should anyone care?

I grew up discussing this very controversy with my dad, a sports fanatic. It was one of the few things we could really get deep about and I loved to hear his wise and experienced opinion on the subject.

My dad's feeling (at least the last time we spoke) was that Rose should just admit, apologize and then stand on his baseball record (a very impressive record indeed) - and then in time he would rightfully be inducted in the Baseball Hall of Fame. I naturally assumed that my dad had the right attitude and was correct. These days I just don't know.

The problem isn't that he didn't do what we asked, it was when and how he did it. I am a firm believer that we are in bondage to sin. Truly, we can not free ourselves of our compulsion to do what is wrong, especially when inherently selfish motives are involved, like greed, gluttony, and lust. These alluring sins are just too tied into the human psyche to be avoided. That is why the world is full of fat, lying, cheating, money-grubbing individuals. It applies to all of us at some point in our lives.

So it could be said that Pete Rose was just being human. Isn't he allowed to be human? Not in baseball. Baseball is our sacred sport - it stands for what it means to be an American. It is a sport of elegance, heroes, set and defined rules, gallant behavior and above all - NO FUCKING CHEATING. Why is cheating frowned on so fervently in sports, especially baseball? The Black Soxs scandal of 1919. Thanks to that scandal, Americans almost lost their beloved pastime. People lost faith in the baseball dream and their heroes and since that time the game of baseball and its leaders and rulemakers have bent over backwards to make sure the game's integrity has stayed intact and unmarred from scandal.

So that brings us back to Pete Rose. I agree with my dad, a man as graced with natural baseball talent as Pete Rose, with incredible career stats to boot, by golly he should be in the Hall of Fame, except for one thing.

He isn't sorry and he waited too long. The time to apologize and come clean was then and the motive should have been guilt and remorse over dragging the game of baseball through scandal-slime. But that's not what Pete did, Pete waited years and years to see if he would be forgiven without having to admit to wrongdoing, and then when he finally admitted he BET ON BASEBALL while performing his managing and coaching duties, he did so without any real contrition.

Essentially Pete Rose is saying, "Look, everyone knows I was great baseball player and I can push the buttons of the purist baseball lovers of the world and stand on my vast sports achievements. They will be forced to acknowledge my role and put me in the hall of greats where I belong. So what if I fouled and sullied the game with the lowest, most heinous crime one could commit in baseball, I AM PETE ROSE DAMMIT."

Well, sorry Pete this is one baseball lover who feels the only day you should be
honored for your skills is the day AFTER you die.

On second thought, apology NOT accepted.

Nature's Birth Control: Children

I know it's only been four + something years since I became a mother, but in the time I have discovered that there is nothing more effective against unwanted pregnancies than the firsthand experience one has when they become a parent.

I can almost guarantee my two older stepkids will not experience unplanned pregnancy, as they have become older siblings FOUR times in the last five years and they know the various levels of Hades that having little kids around can create.

I think the most dramatic change in my life is that sex has become something you have to plan ahead for and schedule. It DOES NOT HAPPEN spontaneously when you have little kids.

At first they are in your face, literally all night long. Any parent worth their salt pays close attention to newborns and tends to their every need. Maybe I am fanatical about this, but I can't IMAGINE having my itty bitty little man (or my precious little girl) anywhere else but right next to me until they are about, say, THREE years old. I remember checking to make sure Lily was breathing at least ten times a day when I first brought her home.

Although I am much more relaxed the second time around, that's only because I know the shortcuts and can manage to still be paranoid without so many steps.

BUT, all of this leads to one thing. NO PRIVACY, NO TIME TO YOURSELF, NO NOTHING BUT POOP, BREASTS, and MORE POOP.

Gosh, there was a time when Eric and I would spend hours just talking about music, universal truths, Eric and why he is so great and I am so lucky to have him, (yes, it's true and I ACTUALLY MISS THAT SOMETIMES). So these days, now that I know the babyfactory has been shut down for good, I ask myself when will I ever be me again?

Or is the answer NEVER, as I will always have some otherworldly concern for the fruits of loins to haunt me UNTIL THE DAY I DIE.

Man, people should warn us about this stuff in health class.

Birthday Wishes

I know I speak for Dawn as well in wishing a very happy birthday (tomorrow) to one of our favorite bloggers, John Hawkins of Right Wing News. Happy 33rd, JH! May you become another Rush Limbaugh, minus the painkiller addiction and the progressive deafness. And may your next list of favorite blogs not be marred by certain conspicuous omissions . . . .

For those who've never seen it, Dawn's interview with John from August 2002 may be found here.

Baby Shit

I went back through Dawn's archives and counted. You know how many posts she's treated us to in the past twenty days? Three. Three posts. If she sits it out again tomorrow, she'll be averaging precisely one post per week since late December. Not good, people. I think it's time to apply some pressure. I'm going to call her tomorrow and do some cajoling, so if some of the other Dawnie D die-hards could leave her a comment or send her an e-mail, maybe we can guilt her into getting back on the horse. Desperate times, desperate measures, etc.

In the meantime, you guys want to hear about babies, don't you? Hmm. I don't have any children myself and don't expect to have any, so there's not much I can say on the subject. How about some links instead? Wanna see baby pictures of celebrities? That Brad Pitt is a cutie! Wanna see the top ten most popular names for boys and girls in each of the last twelve years? You might as well; your tax dollars paid for the site. Wanna read a load of complete horseshit on how to select your baby's gender? Here's a mnemonic device to help you remember. If girls make you glad, mom rides dad; if boys make you smile, doggy style! Finally, wanna buy Dawnie and Alex a little something to show how much you care? Her Amazon baby registry page is still open for business.

All right, all right. It's not really blogging unless you share. Fine. Here's a baby picture of yours truly from a magical time when Gerald Ford was in the White House and the number one song in America--I shit you not--was "Having My Baby" by Paul Anka. Number one song the next week? "I Shot the Sheriff."

Heads up, ladies. Not only am I available, but I'm twice as cute now and have almost as much hair. And I wear that exact same expression all the time. Call me!

Blogging: Priority Z

Or that's what NC has assessed and he is RIGHT. I want to blog, I have a lot to share, feelings to get off my chest (so to speak) and valuable commentary to add, but damn if I still don't feel like hell!!

Alex is also sick now, though so far only the sniffles, but let me tell you, when you are that small every strain of mucous is a big deal to you and he has been letting me know in no uncertain terms HE IS PISSED ABOUT BEING ILL.

Also, I have something truly gross and personal to share, it would seem I dislodged something between birth and my endless hacking and I don't know what it is. It may be my bladder or perhaps another organ, but it seems to be wanting to exit from the wrong orifice. Not that there is a "right" orifice for an organ to exit, but this one is definitely WRONG.

Anything else? I mean really, ANYTHING FUCKING ELSE?

Eight Links

1. The Straight Dope. Have you been over there recently? They're talking about Napoleon's cock!
2. Despair, Inc. The 2004 calendar is out. "Power" is good, "Potential" is better.
3. Booknotes. Streaming video of C-SPAN's weekly one-hour chats with authors of prominent nonfiction books dating to 1989. Great stuff if you have the time. Start with 2003 and work your way back.
4. AskMen.com. The anti-Booknotes. Brimming with short, fun, half-assed bullshit about all things dating.
5. WhiteHouse.org. Everyone's seen these, but they keep adding new ones. Personal favorite right here.
6. Breakfast From Hell. A modern classic from X-Entertainment. "Sausage has a new face, and it's not unlike the current face of what dogs leave on your front lawn."
7. Green Bag. Here's something for the bloodsuckers out there. It's not quite a law journal, not quite a parody . . . it's Green Bag. If you find this shit funny, you're probably a lawyer.
8. The Darkness. I heard them for the first time yesterday. You need to download "I Believe in a Thing Called Love" right now. First you'll think it's a send-up, then you'll think it rocks, and pretty soon after that you'll be singing along with that numbnuts when he does the "touching YOU-OOOOOOO" part. I'm not sure if it's supposed to be a goof or an honest tribute; probably somewhere in the middle. In that sense, it's like the "Green Bag" of rock.

The Lottery

Dawn is AWOL once again so I thought I'd do a little guest-posting, in my own voice this time.

Here's all I have to say for my first post.

(Click the photo.)

Who Does He Look Like?

Ugh! Did anyone get the name of that truck?

The one that hit me like a ton of bricks. Besides my computer being sick because nitwit teenagers like to download P2P software and screw things up, Lily and I came down with a cold that would have brought down and elephant.

I have been sick for over a week and then last night, on a rare moment of leisure, Eric and I convinced his parents to watch BOTH children and we caught the new LOTR - The Return of the King at the theatre. IT WAS AWESOME, but I know it would be. I have read the stories many times now so I don't think I could have been disappointed.

While sitting there for a really long time I started to feel weird, not surprising as I haven't had much sleep, have had a fever for days and my head feels like it's full of swamp water - this feeling was different. It was a burning fullness in the chest (by which I mean breast) and I just figured it was that ever present feeling that lactating moms get when away from the baby for too long - engorgement. I was wrong.

Suddenly I was chilled and feverish, felt dead to the world and I was dragging my feet like I was Frodo dragging the ring up Mount Doom.

We got to the in-laws, Alex had just fallen asleep and was sleeping like a little drugged man. I had no way of relieving the pain in my breast. I was becoming really sick quickly and we rushed home. Considering I have been feverish for days I wasn't sure if I was having a relapse of something new was hitting me.

I made the mistake of taking to yellow pills (antihistmines) before crawling, shivering into bed trying to wake Alex to feed him and release the burden in my chest, when I just passed out cold. All night long it was a battle of shivering, coughing, grogginess, and the burning orb to my right. Because the medicine I took passed to Alex (STUPID ME) he was zonked too and it was hard to wake him to feed - the pain persisted and when we both woke up this morning he was out of it and I felt like I had had my ass kicked by an army of dead.

I am still waiting to hear from my doctor about what is now a raging mastitis. I bet you people know more about birth and female issues than you ever thought possible.

But don't go away, I am sure I have more dumbass moves up my sleeve on how to create havoc in one's own body.

Too Much Fruit

Ever since I plopped Alex out I have had the STRONGEST craving for FRUIT. I want to eat it ALL DAY LONG. Today I ate fourteen peaches for lunch plus a box of prunes before dinner and they gave me the shits something AWFUL. UGH. For most of the afternoon my movements around the house consisted of trips from the windowsill to the bowl and back. I was like a fruity little mouse running through a maze, except that the maze was really only the hallway from the crapper to the kitchen and there was a wicked DOODY smell wafting through the air the whole time. It got so bad that Eric had to take a long walk to clear his head. So BEWARE. Too much fruit can KILL A MARRIAGE.

Even more alarming than my bowel movements was what Lily said to me when she saw me on the can. "Are you pinching a loaf, mommy?" WHOA. I did NOT raise my child to say such things. I patiently explained to her that describing a big log turd as a "loaf" is impolite and from now on all shit references should be to POOPIE instead. It has worked well so far except that "POOPIE" does not sound good in every context, as I am realizing. For example, last night Eric and I got into an argument about who was going to eat the last peach. Lily was there so when he told me to get bent I had no choice but to tell him to EAT POOPIE AND DIE. Then later we were watching the news and a story about the big earthquake in Iraq came on and Eric said how sad it was that so many Persians had to die. Hey, I said, POOPIE HAPPENS. And it did, about five minutes later when I finished eating that last peach. It smelled good going in but NOT SO GOOD coming out. UGH. I LIT A MATCH.

I am going to go watch Men In Black 2 with Lily now. I liked it the first 75 times we watched it but in hindsight I must agree with Eric's assessment that it is a piece of poopie. I do like that Will Smith guy though. He is a PISSER. I mean, a PEEPEE-ER.