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A few things I never thought I’d say before becoming a mom…

STOP trying to get the dog to smell your butt.

No, that’s not funny if you try and toss the dog. Would you like someone to do that to you?

No. I don’t need your help with the dog. (As he was getting a haircut)

If you break your butt jumping from that, dads not going to be happy.

If you don’t do your homework, I wont let you watch Doctor Who. (This is surprisingly effective. Thanks, Doctor!)

I’m sure there will be more to come and I’m sure there are some I’m
forgetting. Its also 2am and I’m kindle posting. So. Yeah. Goodnight!

Its that time again folks.

Have a good one! 

Ghosts pooping. Yeah.

It’s a Monday.

Gettin’ back into the swing of things…

Hells yeah, folks. It’s that time again.. time of wonder and awesomeness. Time of quiet mornings drinking a cuppa tea, enjoying your breakfast without having to utter things like,”No, you’re not going to have ice cream for breakfast.”

“No, I won’t bake you a cake because you hit your toe.”

“Please, don’t try to fart on the dog.”

“I understand grandma lives in California, but she’ won’t get here in time to save you from being in the corner. Sorry.”

You know what time it is folks?

They’re the three best words ever spoken, baby. Don’t get me wrong, I love my kid. I do.  She’s awesome, she’s a smart ass ( I wonder where she got that from?), and well, she’s a dork. (I blame her father.)  But there’s something about her in the summer that makes me want to pull my bottom lip over my head and try and swallow. Truth.  If you’re not constantly entertaining her, its the worst thing ever. You’re a horrible person! She’s! SO! BORED!

Ugh.

How bummed was I that her new school made me go buy her own school supplies.  Yeah, let that sink in for a moment.  Locally, all the children go to one kindergarten.  Just one big building of kindergarteners, I don’t know how they do it, but they do it, and they do it well. Personally, I’d lose my damn mind, but that’s me. Well, anyways, I got lost here, let me get back on point.  The kindergarten place that Cinderella went to last year? They totally buy the supplies for you! HOW FRIGGING AWESOME IS THAT?! All you do is fork over like $40.00 and boom. DONE. I was in lazy person heaven, buddy let me tell you. Signed her up for kindergarten, paid the peoples their money, and damn, I was *done*.  Mother of the year! WOOOOOOOOO!!!!!

This year? I HAD TO DO THIS  SHIT MYSELF. What the poop, yo?

Honestly, I’m making it sound bad.  Only, it was TWENTY TIMES WORSE. I had to go to that store. You know the one.  The one that boasts of always low prices, and fantastic people that work there. You know the place… THE HOUSE OF LIES. That’s where we went. Yeah, I took the kid with me. If I have to suffer…EVERYONE SUFFERS. I’m one of those people that is insanely early for everything. Lets put it this way, the meet the teacher thing to figure out what class she was in this year? We were AN HOUR EARLY.  Oh, did I mention its like down the street? Literally like 3 blocks away.  Momma was a little excited. BITE ME. (Prince Charming? He was beyond annoyed, but you know what? He deals.  Probably because I took him out to eat afterwards. I’m cool like that.)

The afternoon of the first day of school, Cinderella brought home a questionnaire. A “Who am I” type questionnaire that her teacher made that’s about Cinderella. In the “is there anything else I need to know about your kid” question I wrote: Cinderella is a chatterbox. You’ll have to be strict about this, else she will do nothing but talk.

Pretty straight forward right?

We’ve been in school for three weeks already, and in those three weeks? Cinderella has been in trouble three (possibly four because I won’t know about this last Friday until I see the papers on Tuesday) times.  Like I actually had to sign a paper each time that said she got in trouble for talking. I’ve talked to  her about this..”Oh, I won’t do that again!” Next day? Talking.  This is gonna be a long year. A very…long year.

Thirty. Thirttttty….Thirty. It still doesn’t seem right.

Well, folks.

It’s happened. Something unbelievable. Something so horrendous, it’s just unimaginable that I could even write it out here and not immediately fall faint, it’s just that bad.

I’ve left my 20s behind and am now 30 years old.

Did the Earth shudder when you read that? If so, that was me fainting all dramatic like…again. I’m sure my husband is good and tired of that by now. (Shut up!)  How in hell did I get this old, man?  I never in my life thought I’d get to this age, to be honest.  No, I didn’t think I’d die in some odd death, it just never occurred to me that there was more years behind that whole 18 year old thing. Wait, that doesn’t sound right, does it? I mean, I knew there were ages after 18 and all that.  I was just to indifferent to aging to notice,”Oh, holy hell, I’m an adult!”  It snuck up on me, I admit it. (Yes, my hair may be black, but in spirit, it’s blonde.)

The funny thing is, I don’t see how I let it sneak up. I’m a stay at home mom with a five year old. (Holy crap, she’s going to be six soon. *facepalm*)

Could be worse.  I have a cousin* that is absolutely heartbroken when she has a birthday. EVERY. SINGLE. YEAR. I have my moments, true, but every year?  Nah.. I’m too lazy for that kinda break down. When I break down, I’m going to make it worth it, buddy. EVERYONE’S going to know. *snicker*

I think the point of this post is:  I really need to get my head out of my ass.

*If my cousin ever finds this, and ends up reading this, she’s probably going to murderize me. Doubt she’ll find it…SO DON’T BE GOING AND TELLIN’ HER DAMMIT.

Don’t make me eat you.

Well, folks, I did it.  I joined a cult. Sure was nice knowing you all. I’ll be giving away all of my baggage soon!

Kinda.

I joined a weight loss group…One that I shall not post their name to give them any more credit, and well, advertisement but they sound like Plate Archers. (Get it? I’ll wait….C’mon… You totally can hear that spokesperson singing, huh?) (HELL no I’m no giving them any more advertisement.  They took my money, that’s enough stuff I’ve done for them.)

Anyway.  I’ll be 30 next month (30 FOLKS! A BONA FIDE ADULT!), and my ass isn’t getting any smaller, despite all that I’ve done to sit on it. It was time. Hell, it’s past time.  But you know me, I may be late but I’m down to party. Screw it, I’m always late.  (SHUT UP.)

Can I admit something?

It’s not that bad.  I actually kinda like it.  Lets see.  You eat better, you can still eat the normal stuff you’ve been eating, but you make the effort to control yourself. You make an effort to eat better.  Like that’s a bad thing?  Not the last time I heard. I’m starting to feel better, all the way around.   My clothes fit better already, and I haven’t even been on it a week.

But just in general, I feel better. My whole….self?  Gone are the sluggish feelings. Gone is the,”HOLY CRAP I THOUGHT THESE PANTS WERE THE ONES THAT FIT!” feelings. This is something I will be able to stick to, its too easy not to.

SO, you want my baggage I’m giving out?  You can have it.

The Never Ending Bot Battle

You may have seen people with blogs, twitter, websites, well, even TV complain about bots. These are little programs designed to… well…annoy the ever living shit out of you. Well, today, I’m going to show you some examples of bots.  These are what I encountered today when I looked in the spam folder.

Some bots are designed to phish for passwords and accounts.

Some are designed to promote a business (usually porn), and get you to go visit a website, which well then probably phish for your credit card thereby ruining your chance at a decent life, and ruin your credit, and make that chick you were crushing on really dislike you. (Don’t say I didn’t warn you. ) (Yeah, I heard about you.  She told me everything, you nasty!)

Then there are these assholes:

Clicky clicky to read it biggie biggie.

But what it says is:  “Hello, you used to write fantastic but the last several posts have been kinda boring. I miss your great writings. Past several posts are a little out of come on!”

Okay, I’ve had trolls.  I don’t know anyone that hasn’t that pleasant experience.  But what you can’t see there is that it’s on a post ABOUT MY DEAD COUSIN. Yeah. So. Uhm. thanks for that?

The one under that’s a weird one too. Talking about over population ON MY DEAD COUSINS POST. Awesome. Great. Fantastic. So, whatever.

The top post there is an example of just a random bot. ” Hey go here and your blog will go straight to the top! YAY!” (YAY! Here’s my credit card information too! I’ll give you my first born as well, if you promise it’ll stay on top.  I mean, I haven’t been able to *stay* pregnant long enough to actually have a first born, but that shouldn’t matter to the internet gods right?)

That second one? That’s one that I’m gonna keep for agesssssss…….

  • Among the many misdeeds of the British rule in India, history will look upon the act of depriving a whole nation of arms, as the blackest.| An error does not become truth by reason of multiplied propagation, nor does truth become error because nobody sees it. | An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind|An ounce of practice is worth a pound of preaching

Deep, right?

The first three are Mohandas Gandhi quotes, with the last being a Proverb quote.

Gandhi…Remember him?

I want you to go ahead and look again at the picture I have uploaded of the quote.  Go ahead and make it bigger and look at the NAME on the comment. Too much of an effort? FINE! (Lazy ass!)

Some days it just doesn’t pay to look at the spam folder.  Some days it does. Today, I can’t tell what I think at the moment. (I mean, other than dirty)

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