The World According to that Man 'O Mine #2 (by Momotrips)
"The ratio of Cool Whippage to pumpkin pie shall be no LESS than 2 to 1. Any less Cool Whippage and the optimum pumpkin pie experience is RUINED."
This sounds simple enough, right? It took me the first five years of our 14 year marriage to perfect the CORRECT pumpkin pie/Cool Whippage serving ratio. Still, each and every time I serve that man a slice of pumpkin pie he holds the plate up and twists it around to check for full "Whip coverage" then ever so carefully cuts the first bite before declaring it perfect. Halleluja, all is right with the world. Sadly, I almost always feel proud that I've gotten it just right...how pathetic is that? I've got it bad for that man.
(by Keeme)
My offspring wanted to watch movies last night and talked me into renting the following
Stepford Wives
Harry Potter and some stupid thing they do
Jersey Girl
I chose
Gothica (yes because Halle it hot)
Van Hellsing
We watched Stepford Wives... It had a few moments but save yourselves the aggravation and don't waste the money.
Next, one of mine, Van Hellsing (watched 20 minutes and did the right thing by REMOVING IT FROM THE DVD PLAYER QUICK). If I had 20 thumbs... they would be so down.
Harry Potter and the Con... was good movie... I liked it (but don't tell my kids).
Today we watch the rest... I can't wait until Sunday when football will knock the images from my brain.
I want to go watch The Incredibles
(by Momotrips)
Well, Thanksgiving was a hoot and a holler this year. I didn’t have to have the clan over to my house for a change which was fabulous. Can everyone appreciate eight kids under the age of seven NOT wrecking my house? Woohoo! My niece just moved into the same master planned community in which my sister, dad and I already live. This is their first home and they’ve been dying to entertain, so they got all 23 of us for Thanksgiving day and 17 of us today. There was much running up and down the stairs of 16 little feet, much eating, much laughter, a 2nd birthday party for my nephew and too much food. Favorite holiday memories made: two kick ass nights of Texas Hold ‘Em poker and carrying my beautiful sleeping boys to the car and to bed – this is probably the last year that this will be physically possible. Sigh.
The dinner (both days of it) was pretty much a let down. The usual fare: turkey, ham, cornbread dressing, my special rosemary sage sausage and rice dressing, rosemary mashed potatoes, green bean casserole, sweet potatoes, pumpkin pie, et al, but it just didn’t have the same effect that it used to. I used to just eat until I thought I’d explode, wait and eat a little bit of each thing that was really good again. As I’ve lost weight, cut back on just about everything that’s bad for me and gotten older, the IDEA of food is always much better than the reality of it. Eating is always a disappointment and I wonder if what I ate was really worth the number of fat grams and calories that I ingested or not. I tend to analyze the taste and enjoyment level of everything I eat and it takes all the fun out of it. The only thing that holds any satisfaction at all is usually dessert. Now mind you, I don’t really count fat grams or calories, but it’s always going through my mind – like, what is the ratio of enjoyment to artery clogging properties of this one little fried crab cake? Is this one little crab cake going to be the coagulated morsel that pushes my cholesterol over the top and stops my heart? Is it really that tasty? What about that dollop of rosemary mashed potatoes with heavy cream and real butter? Is the momentary enjoyment of those 600 calories of creamy goodness going to be the one item that makes my ass grow the 3 inches that make those new cute jeans an unfabulous “Glamour Don’t”? At least when I eat a wonderful creamy piece of cheesecake or key lime pie or Marble Slab ice cream I feel like - ahh, that was worth it – a good time was had by at least 4 out of 5 senses. A good sensory experience was had by all. I discussed this with my sister who’s got 12 years on me and she says that this is true for her as well. She lost over 100 pounds in the last 6 years (is that awesome or what?) and that combined with not wanting to die at a relatively young age has taken the fun out of eating for her, too. Damn, does NOTHING get better with age besides wine and cheese? Sure, two more things I can’t enjoy anymore – figures.
We reminisced about Thanksgivings past and I now recall the most memorable Thanksgiving and I can’t believe that I did not include this in Mac’s “Stick a [gold] fork in me post” below. About 8 years ago, before any of us young ’uns had kids, we spent the holiday at my parents house out in the Texas Hill Country. My husband and I were still childfree and smoochy and my nieces were both either newly married or engaged. There were three cute young women roaming around the house and three handsome young men, besides my parents and my older sister and her husband. At on point I’m sitting in the living room with several other people and my older niece is leaning on the kitchen counter talking to my mom (I miss you, Mom, rest in peace!). My husband is wandering around drinking his Dr. Pepper and trying not to be too “social” as he’s uncomfortable in most social situations. For reasons known only to him he puts down his Dr. Pepper can and reaches out with both hands and grabs the ass bent over the counter. Remember, I’m sitting on the couch in the living room – I, and everyone else in the living room, for some reason at this moment all happen to look in his direction. The ass that he’s grabbed belongs to a woman that is very apparently not welcoming this contact in ANY physical manner. There’s a hushed silence over the crowd and he realizes one moment too late that the ass that he still has a firm grip on is not the ass of the woman to which he is legally bound. The look of sheer confusion, terror and nausea on his face was hysterical enough, but the humor was compounded by the flying backward leap that he made upon the realization that EVERYONE was watching. My poor, poor sweetie. My niece was at first horrified then melted into a fit of laughter that nearly brought on an asthma attack. Everyone else gave him a horrible time about it all weekend and that was the turning point that made him feel that he really belonged in this insanely hysterical family of mine. My mom kept asking if he wanted to squeeze her heiney, too. And by the way, this was the same Thanksgiving that my niece’s husband tried to carve a fried turkey and it shot down the counter (like a bullet) into a full sink of soapy water. He was so mortified that he had to go outside and walk it off. We just kind of rinsed it off, patted it dry and ate it anyway. It’s really hard to mess up a fried turkey.
I hope that your families made some great memories this year and I also hope that you really enjoyed your turkey and pumpkin pie and didn’t fret over the calories and fat grams, because you know what? Your family may be the first to tell you that yes, those jeans make you look fat, but they still love you, that’s why they’re your family.
Happy holidays everybody!
Hey, I know Christmas is a month away but I'm already in the Christmas spirits spirit so I thought I'd share with all of you this original parody of a Christmas song you all know. Enjoy...
Santa Got Run Over By A Reindeer
Santa got run over by a reindeer
when he came to our house Christmas eve.
Some folks say they don't believe in Santa.
If that's the case then I guess they'll not grieve.
The air was cold, it was a blizzard.
The FAA. had closed the skies.
While most folks were stuck in airports,
Santa hitched the reindeer up to fly.
Mrs. Clause, she tried to warn him.
Said, Christmas could come one day late.
Santa scoffed, and said, "No way, Dear.
Come on Rudolph, let's not hesitate!"
Santa got run over by a reindeer
when he came to our house Christmas eve.
Some folks say they don't believe in Santa.
If that's the case then I guess they'll not grieve.
It was early in the evening
cause our house is his first stop;
on the roof there was a clatter
of reindeer hoofs a goin' clop de clop.
Rudolph's nose was shining brightly,
doing well to light the way.
Had we known just what was happening
then we could a helped him with his sleigh.
Santa got run over by a reindeer
when he came to our house Christmas eve.
Some folks say they don't believe in Santa.
If that's the case then I guess they'll not grieve.
Santa grabbed his bag of presents,
down the chimney to our tree,
but when ol' Santa went back up there
he banged his head into ol' Dancers knee.
Dancer screamed, "Look out, they're coming!"
thinking hunters were about.
As the team took off a flying
the sleigh swung 'round to knock dear Santa out.
Santa got run over by a reindeer
when he came to our house Christmas eve.
Some folks say they don't believe in Santa.
If that's the case then I guess they'll not grieve.
The Red Cross came to pick up Santa,
then they threw him on a cot,
said, he'd be laid out for hours,
and when he woke he wouldn't do a lot.
I asked my dad, "What about Christmas?
What of the other girls and boys?
Even though we had our Christmas
the other kids would not be getting toys."
Santa got run over by a reindeer
when he came to our house Christmas eve.
Some folks say they don't believe in Santa.
If that's the case then I guess they'll not grieve.
Daddy said, "We have no choice, Son.
We'll have to do the best we can.
Go inside and tell your mother
we're taking off, we'll be back when we can.
The air was cold there in the blizzard.
At least the reindeer knew the way,
and when they stopped I held the reins
while Daddy grabbed the bag out of the sleigh.
Santa got run over by a reindeer
when he came to our house Christmas eve.
Some folks say they don't believe in Santa.
If that's the case then I guess they'll not grieve.
Was early on, on Christmas morning,
the reindeer brought us back to town.
Santa said, "I owe you big time!
I'll fix you up when I come back around."
Santa got run over by a reindeer
when he came to our house Christmas eve.
Some folks say there's no such thing as Santa,
but he'll be back come next year, Christmas eve.
Yes he'll be back come next year, Christmas eve.
Hey Ya'll,
I can't help it, I'm doing the 30 Days Of Christmas over at BloggingPoet.com and I just couldn'r resist giving all of you loyal BlownFuse readers a sneak preview. Merry Christmas, Ya'll.
The world according to that "man o' mine" #1 (By Momotrips)
My husband, father of my children, light of my life had these words to say to me tonight:
"These low-flow toilets are a crock of shit."
Aren't I the lucky girl? Such "purdy" words and he cleans the toilets, too. Ah, marital bliss.
Her hot honey
dripped from her warm bun.
Her hot honey
dripped from her warm bun.
Delicious and sticky,
it mixed with my butter
on my fingers,
teasing my tongue
as I ate...
Next time I’ll try jelly.
I hope that wasn’t too sticky for all of you. Maybe tomorrow I’ll tell you what I did with the jelly. Then again...
(By Keeme)
I have had many bad things happen to me in my life
* Lost a good job
* Lost a Leg
* DIVORCED
* I Saw GIGLI more than once
And early this morning I had my hand up a frozen turkey's A$$!
That just ain't right.
Well that divorce thing should go under "Why is Keeme Thankful"
Happy hand up a birds A$$ Day!
Howdy Ya'll,
Billy The Blogging Poet back with you at Blown Fuse. In case you just tuned in, the lovely Miss. Tiffany is headed north to get her turkey. Hey, I thought Scott was with her?
His name is Scott, right?
Anyway, as most of you have probably guessed, I don't earm my living doing the blogging poet thing. I earn my living delivering things to people's homes and work places.
Today I had another delivery with the wrong address. Now wrong address aren't uncommon as most of my customers are stupid, but what happened today was the craziest thing I've seen in 30 years of riding around delivering things.
I realized I had a problem when the street numbers stopped at 1709 and the address I was looking for was 2503. Oh well, I thought, I'll just call the lady. I pick up my cell phone and dial the number on the delivery reciept.
"Hello."
"Hello, Ma'am, I'm trying to deliver your package but it appears I've got the wrong address."
"What address do you have?"
"2503 Som..."
"That's not where I live."
"Okay, what is your correct address?"
"Why do you want to know?"
"So I can deliver your package, Ma'am."
"I didn't order any package."
"Maybe a friend ordered it for you."
"Why would anyone do that?"
"Well I don't know, Ma'am, could you please just give me your correct address?"
"You don't have to deliver it, I'll come pick it up."
"But Ma'am, it's already in my (CLICK) truck." I can't believe it, the b***h hung up on me and she doesn't even know where I am.
RING RING.
"Hello," I answered the phone.
"Where are you at?"
"I'm on the side of the ro..."
"I'll be there in a few minutes."
"But Ma'am, you still don't know (CLICK) where I am."
To make a long story short, four more phone calls and 1/2 hour later she drives up beside my truck and parks in the middle of a busy street to get her package. All the while I was less than two minutes from her house.
What is it with people? Simply answer a few simple questions and everything would be easy, but no.......
(By Momotrips)
Some blogtastic evening...
Hey everyone, this is Melissa (Momotrips), a blogless Internet, reader, commenter and lurker. I am a stay-at-home mom of six year-old triplet boys. I am blogless because if I spent anymore time on this infernal machine my big ol’ house would never get even remotely clean and the tidal wave of laundry would literally drown me. Anyhow, Tiffany asked me to guest post for her while she’s gone. I see that I’m joining The Keeme, Billy the Blogging Poet and Mac. I thought my world was a little off kilter until I started reading Haggis Ain’t Cake, so I know I can’t touch Robert for sheer lunacy in my postings. Billy is one of a kind – I think that’s a good thing. Mac has a really nice style – and she’s fond of long posts – ah verbosity, I embrace you! By the way Mac, that’s a good thing – I happen to like long posts. Everyone comes here to get their daily dose of Tiffany’s life – what a let down that it’s just us, huh? I know she’s always my first stop when I hit the Internet. I can’t even put my finger on just what it is about this site that I love so much. Yes, she’s a great writer and I hope someday to be able to purchase a novel with her name on it. Yes, she’s entertaining and her workplace provides daily fodder - I think that the snark content is what keeps me coming back – that and somehow she just makes me feel like I’ve known her for a really long time. With that in mind…
Question: If you could have any three bloggers meet you for drinks, dinner and a night of general gab, who would those three bloggers be and why?
My list is:
1. Tiffany – no explanation necessary. She likes beer.
2. Jennifer from Demure Thoughts - If you haven’t read Jen’s site, and aren’t offended by conservative ranting, you should really check her out. She’s a fountain of knowledge and a great writer – she also has a mouth like a longshoreman – no offense to any longshoremen out there. She’s a true diva and proud of it.
3. LeeAnn from The Cheese Stands Alone - She’s a nut, well she’s cheesy, well, you know what I mean. She is the wittiest girl going. She has a beautifully filthy mind and she loves to mess with the unsuspecting “ignorami” she works with.
If I could get these three ladies together for drinks and dinner, the snark meter would bury itself in the dangerously red zone. Not one of us four can suffer a fool and stupidity just makes us all want to commit murderous offenses daily. I know that I would be sore the next day from laughter. That would be one hell of a girl’s night out. Ah, good times…
Of course, Harvey from Bad Example would want to “horn” in because he enjoys “all girl activities” to the fullest.
These are just the three that I identify with most – the ladies I’d want to sit with at lunch and talk shit about the “popular crowd”. There are so many bloggers that I read on a daily basis and so many that I admire for doing such a great job. Now go on, tell us who YOU’D book for your blogtastic evening.