Merry New Year!

What does everyone have planned to usher in the new year this evening? We're having a little party here at our house, as we have done every NYE for about 6 years now. It's just nicer than braving the cold and the crowds in town, and we always have a great time with our friends and their children in the comfort of our home. Also, no driving - yay!

This year we've got three other families coming over and we're doing a Pajama Party theme. Basically, the girls and I just decided that we didn't want to dress up and we didn't want to wear anything that does not have an elastic waistband, so pj's were the logical choice! I've selected some oh-so-sexy duds that have frogs and peace signs on them, and I can't wait to rock them with my new red hair.

Oh, did I forget to mention that I'm now a pseudo-redhead? Last Monday I decided to go even more "rock star" with the 'do and I got some flame-red (burgundy, really) highlights. I love it, and everyone noticed for a change; usually my highlights are more subtle, but this time everyone from the mailman at work to Mala's unobservant husband Joe noticed. I'm digging it. I wanted something funky to start 2010 and this fits the bill.

In other news, yesterday Mala, her daughter (who is also sporting some killer pink highlights, btw) and I had a nice lunch at The Ichiban Japanese hibachi, one of Mala's favorite restaurants, which she lovingly refers to as the "Itchy Bum." We were feeling very multi-cultural apparently, because after that we went and got our nails done one of Concord's many Vietnamese-run salons and got called "Baby" while the teeny little women talked about us in their language and filed all of the nails on my left hand crooked.



Mala's doctor is running some tests on her to try to figure out why she's so awesome so they can bottle it, so she was sporting the ever-popular fanny pack o' wires. Basically, she looked like a terrorist. After we were seated at the hand dryer waiting for our bright blue (hers) and deep purple (mine) nails to dry, we were treated to a disgusting display of Wild Kingdom in the algae-clogged cesspool they called a fish tank. It was kind of heartbreaking, really. There were these two horribly neglected fish that kept staring at us with these pleading googly eyes as if to say, "Please, contact the ASPCA! We're pretty sure we're covered by them, right? Help usssss...."



One of the fish was clearly dying, and the other was going all Finding Nemo on us by nudging his friend and hovering by his side. It was very depressing, even though we'd just eaten at a sushi restaurant so we're obviously not huge fish-rights people.

Anywhooooo. I hope you all have a lovely evening and don't have to witness any dying fish! Tomorrow I'll post some pics of our night of debauchery. I dug out some old pics of Mala and me ringing in the year 2000, so we'll have fun comparing then versus now. I'm sure we can all agree that not much has changed in the past 10 years except for a few minor developments like getting married, having children, buying homes, etc. You know, little stuff. ;)

HAPPY NEW YEAR'S EVE, ALL!

Horny Mustangs & Musical Tuesday

On Saturday I found myself in the redneck purgatory known as Walmart, perusing the toy section with my kids. It didn't matter that D had received umpteen-million carefully-selected and pricey new toys for Christmas because he had also received a crisp $5 bill, which was burning a hole in his little pocket. He sat in the front of the cart waving the bill in the air like a flag on an explorer's canoe, as if we were navigating a vast, uncharted wilderness.

It is exceedingly difficult to find a toy that is exactly $5.00 in Walmart. While D searched among the disorganized post-holiday shelves and mumbled something about Darth Vader's light saber I wandered further down the aisle to the clearance section, and that's where I saw this:



I snorted and fumbled for my cell phone. Oh, he's wild, alright. How I longed to turn that mare around in the box and make this officially "found porn," but instead I just took a photo for you, my lovely readers. You see, I am always thinking of you.

When I had finished documenting the unintentional hilarity of the Wild Mustang almost-gang-bang I escorted my children to the check-out so that D could purchase his Han Solo action figure with bonus Storm Trooper disguise, and yes, I had to lend him two bucks to make that happen. Fuckin' expensive toys.

So it's Tuesday and my in-laws are at my house right now, drinking coffee in their PJs. Happily, I am not; I'm working today in my quiet office while my boss is on vacation in Florida and my crazy coworker is holed up at her house because it's -10 degrees out and she is old. Life is good on days like these, although I've been feeling so groggy lately and I just don't know why. It's like I'm underwater for half the day. I'm having trouble finding the funny, I'm not picking up on good movie/music quotes that I know like the back of my hand, and I'm feeling pudgy and fugly after all the holiday binging.

In short, I don't know what I need, but I need something!

I have been listening to lots of good tunes lately, though. I cannot get enough of these three songs:

Not Big by Lily Allen

I just love how Lily's voice sounds so sweet and girlish (not to mention her killer accent!) but she's SO f'ing harsh! Just do me a favor -- listen to this (NSFW) song and try to tell me that it doesn't ROCK. Note: I won't believe you.



Lisztomania by Phoenix:

Funky.



You and I by Wilco (hi Shannon!) with Feist.

Sweet.



So there you have it. Go forth and download. Tell 'em Bev sent ya'.

Have a good day!

You'll shoot your eye out, kid!

Why hello all of you Who's down in Whoville! How the hell are ya?

How was your holiday? Did everyone get spoiled by the big fat man in the big red suit (or equivalent)? I sure hope so! My Christmas was very nice. I got some lovely and thoughtful gifts and really enjoyed watching my children paw through their new loot. We finally relented and gave D a Nerf gun, and he was jazzed beyond belief when he cracked it open at 6 AM on Christmas morning. The darn thing is like an automatic weapon; you load 35 darts into the chamber (which, incidentally, don't hurt at all when you get pelted with them... ask me how I know) and let 'em rip! I have a feeling we're going to be finding those little buggers everywhere from now on. He's already lost at least 10 of them somewhere in the post-present mess that is my home.

I left my husband at home today with strict instructions to tidy the pig sty in preparation for his parents' arrival this evening. They are staying for most of the week and if I don't make sure things are clean I find his mother passive-aggressively helpfully cleaning out my oven or scrubbing the shelves of the fridge. Trust me, there's nothing like finding your mother-in-law folding a laundry basket full of your ugliest, most tattered period underwear to motivate you to get the chores done before they show up!

On Saturday night we went to an "Ugly Sweater Party" at Laurie & Mark's house. I'm pleased to report that we don't own any ugly sweaters despite my Aunt Carol's best efforts in that area, so I went to Walmart and found a perfectly hideous top for myself. I thought I'd win for sure, but then Laurie's friend Karyn showed up decked out in a snowman sweater with matching earrings, necklace, and socks. She blew me out of the water, and that was one contest I honestly didn't mind losing.

On a side note, last week on Facebook I posted something about having over-tweezed one of my eyebrows. So I'm standing in the kitchen chatting away when our friend Ric blurts out, "I can't stop staring at your eyebrows!" Crap! Lesson learned.

I decided to let the boys look like their usual adorable selves with the exception of D's hair. After his bath I had formed it into a spiky faux-hawk and he LOVED it, so out came the hair products to make it official. He was completely psyched to sport the 'do all night, but Jim wasn't as psyched. He is totally anti-hair gel, which is why my husband is a grown man who rocks a bushy bowl cut no matter how well it is cut. Whatev. I pick my battles.

Our friend Mark designed his own sweater. Looks nice, right?



Look closer:



HAHAHA! Is it any wonder that we are friends?

Towards the end of the evening we cracked open their new Beatles Rock Band game and rocked it out for a while. So much fun! A little birdy told me that we're getting that game for Christmas this week as well, and I can't wait. New Year's Eve jam session, here we come!

This is BY FAR my favorite photo from the whole holiday season:



CRAZY EYES! WOOT!

On Sunday D and I joined the Mala clan for lunch and a movie. We saw the Alvin & The Chipmunks Squeequel and it was... a movie. Mala was cracking up because I made it an hour and forty minutes into the film before leaning over to her and saying, "Well, now that's just improbable!" Yes, folks, I managed to suspend my disbelief during a movie about singing, talking chipmunks right up until they pelted a 6 foot tall man with their tiny little motorcycle helmets and made him fall down. That, well, that I didn't buy. No sir.

ANYWHO. It's another short work week for me. In fact, I'm only working for a few hours today and all day tomorrow, then I'm off for the rest of the week. YAY, me! I have a couple of special posts worked out for your entertainment this week, so stay tuned for those!

I'm going to be eating lettuce and drinking H20 all week in an attempt to lose the 4 lbs of fudge I've packed onto the ol' derriere recently. *sigh*

Enjoy your days, luvs!

69, Dude! Plus, what is it about musicians...

that makes them so GD sexy?

I was watching SNL last weekend and the musical guest was Muse. I like Muse in small doses; I discovered them when I read the Twilight series because, as you may know, Twilight author Stephenie Meyer was inspired by the band while writing all four of her treacly vamp novels. She even goes so far as to thank them in the acknowledgement at the beginning of each book, which always cracks me up because here she is, this very proper Mormon mother of three, who loves somber, angsty Eurotrash music.

I remember going to iTunes and downloading their Black Holes And Revelations album right before we had a long car trip planned. Jim and I rocked it out in the car on the way to PA and found them to be enjoyable, albeit rather heavy for us at times. In fact, we dubbed them "Wyld Stallyns*," and you'd better believe there was a lot of air-guitaring and crazy-eyes going on in the car that day. What can I say? We commit.

I find some of their songs to be extremely sexy. I really love Supermassive Black Hole, Knights of Cyrdonia, and Uprising, for instance. They have a heavy bassline, keening vocals, and a sort of funky electronica element. I dig it.

The band, however, is kind of fug. Bad teeth. Skinny. Pale. Not my cup o' tea, looks-wise.



Yet, when I see them play like I did on SNL the other night I think they're sexy as hell. Why is that? What is it about musicians that makes my heart race and my knees part weak? Part of it is talent, yes; I have a thing for talented men, and I always have. But there is more to it than that.

Is it that they have rhythm? Does that fact somehow translate to some sort of carnal knowledge that they will be good in the sack? Is it that they're great showmen who can work a crowd, AKA: they've got confidence? Yes and yes. Is it the fact that they could, ostensibly, have any woman that they want? Yes.

So they're fug. I still think they're hot for some odd reason.

My husband is not a musician but he is a massive music lover. He plays no instruments but is a music collector and kindly gives my very different musical tastes a fair listen. He doesn't criticize me for liking alternative music and Lady Gaga and I don't criticize him for being a die-hard Dead Head.

Every other guy I have ever dated was a musician. I've even fallen for guys before I knew they were musically-inclined. I'm a band groupie from way back, apparently.

So, there's that.

* In other news, today a lovely reader named Anne became follower #69, DUDES!



Thanks for making my Festivus dream come true, Anne!! Welcome to the OOBH. We've been expecting you....

In about an hour I'll be enduring our annual Yankee Swap and potluck lunch here at My Crap Job. You may remember me griping about it last December in my Schweddy Balls post. Some things never change. I requested that S. make her Schweddy Balls again this year and she obliged, so at least I can pop a couple of those rum-soaked bad boys and get my buzz on. My motto regarding my cow-workers this year has been a simple one: Fuck 'em! I've been so much happier ever since I decided not to give a crap.

Hasta la vista, babies!

Stalking Santa is frowned-upon

Why should this year be any different?


I'm always on Santa's naughty list, and that's just the way I like it! If you're not naughty, how do you have any fun at all?

ANYWHO, enough about naughty ol' Bev.

On Saturday night we took the kids on a train ride to "The North Pole." Each year the Believe in Books Literacy Program puts on a special event based on the children's book The Polar Express. Tickets are hard to get; there is a lottery system due to the limited seating and popularity of the show. My mother heard about it ages ago and started entering us all in the lottery every year. It took her three years, but she finally got the call a couple of months ago and we were able to get tickets.

D was sooo excited when he first caught a glimpse of the train (it's back there somewhere but you'll have to take my word for it).




The train ride is very short, but just like in the book the children are served hot chocolate and chocolate candies with nuggat centers. Once the train arrives at the "North Pole" there is a little show where the elves greet you, the book is read aloud, and then Santa comes out and greets every child in the place and gives out the "first gift of Christmas."



My kids were pretty determined to get some face-time with the Big Guy, so when he started making his rounds D was front and center, grinning at him. Santa kindly said hello to him and shook his hand, then continued on around the room. Before I knew it D had followed him and he managed to shake Santa's hand AGAIN. Jim and I kind of chuckled awkwardly and steered D back to our seats, but then next thing we know little M is heading towards Santa, so D ran over to "help" his brother say hello. Poor Santa - every time he turned around he saw a pair of blond brothers in matching green pajamas! By the third time he kind of stood back and looked down his nose at D and then said, "Are you two related? Haven't I seen you before?"

The whole thing is pretty special for the kids, and mine just loved it! On the train ride home each child gets a little jingle bell from Santa's sleigh, just like in the book. What could have been supremely cheesy was actually kind of magical, and personally, this Bah Humbugger really needed some magic this year.

Good times.

My favorite picture of the night was taken during dinner before the show. We stopped at a pizza place and M had just woken up and was quite cranky. He kept staring at us like he didn't even recognize us and we were starting to fear that people would think we'd kidnapped the kid! Finally he retreated to the corner to get his bearings:



What a SCOWL!

It was a nice weekend, all in all. The company dinner party on Friday night was fine; no surprises. As always I got in a few good jokes after a glass of wine and all of my uptight idiot coworkers act like I'm "coming out of my shell."

"You're so much fun, Beverly!" They say, surprised.
"I'm always fun," I reply tartly.

Fuck 'em. Jerks who do nothing but bitch about coffee, carpet stains, and dead rodent smells don't deserve Fun Bev - they'll get Surly Bev and they'll like it, by God.

In other news, I'm one follower away from reaching that magical number: 69. You know how I'm gonna feel about that:

EXCELLENT!


Have a good Monday, everyone!

I'm seein' double!

And it's not just the two (ok, three... ish) Mimosas I had at brunch today, either.

Have you all seen those new AT&T ads featuring a (rather paunchy) Luke Wilson? Is it just me, or does he now look a lot like Beau Bridges? Since when does The Baumer look like The Dude's older, fatter brother?

See what I mean?



Riiiiight?

By this rationale, does this mean that "Butterscotch Stallion" Owen Wilson will soon start to resemble El Duderino, Jeff Bridges?



I think I'm on to something here.

Today's thoughts, in no particular order:

Each day I am edging closer to the brink of insanity because of the rattling of the rear hatch in my car. It started off as just a small squeak when I'd hit a bump or run over a squirrel (don't look at me like that) but now it's a constant, persistent rattling sound that occurs no matter how smooth the road surface and regardless of my speed.



Every day I intend to ask my husband to come out with a screwdriver and tighten up the latches to fix it because he had success quieting it once before. By the time I get into the house, unburden myself of my coat, boots, and various holiday packages, I inevitably forget to mention it. Or, I'll mention it and Jim will then forget to go out and do it, so either way I end up back in the car at 7:30 the next morning cursing my noisy rear entrance.

Oh, come on, you KNEW I had to make a noisy rear entrance remark. This is ME, people.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

It's below-zero here this morning so my hair froze in the 1 minute it took me to walk from the door to the car. I really need to remember that air-drying is never an option in December, even when I'm so bundled up that I resemble a Jawa, as I was this morning. I hate it when my hair freezes because:

1. It's bad for your hair. Duh.
2. It guarantees a horrible flat, staticky hair day.
3. I might catch Swine Flu and diiiiiiieeeee. Ok, probably not, but still. I could.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Those of you who subscribe to comments probably saw that our friendly neighborhood Asian spammers were back last night. I had comment moderation on for over a week and got exactly two comments to reject in that time. Turn off comment mod and within two days I have TWENTY-FIVE spam comments overnight. FMFL!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

By this time tomorrow morning I can go off my doctor-mandated diet of twigs, reeds, and assorted berries. YAY!!! I will try not to go salt-crazy after restricting all things tasty for the past 10 days (minus last Saturday night, when I ch-ch-cheeeeeeated. Shhh), but I will be having a very naughty lunch tomorrow. I don't want to give it away, but it rhymes with Shocko Hell, and I CANNOT WAIT. Don't hate. I know it's disgusting, but sue me - I'm a fan, man.

Today, however, I'm having a bland chicken stir fry over plain, unsalted rice, and for dessert: a pear. Try not to be too jealous, ok?

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Tomorrow night is my company's dinner party. Considering how much I dislike talking to my coworkers under normal circumstances, the opportunity to mingle with them socially in the company of our spouses does not particularly appeal to me. This year Mala and her hubby aren't even going! Now I will be forced to make small talk with the toolbags instead of simply ignoring them & talking to Mala while I drink free wine & eat spicy Seafood Fra Diavolo like I usually do. Crud.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Eight more shopping days till Christmas. I'm officially hosed.

Later, taters. Stay warm!

The gift of the Mag-my

Not to be mistaken for "liquid-hot magmaaaaaa."

Well hellooooooo. You observant types might've noticed that I spruced the place up a bit. I got tired of my deep purple motif and decided to open the curtains and let in some light! I couldn't bring myself to do a holiday or winter theme, however, because I'm lazy and I know I won't feel like changing it again once the holidays and winter are over, so I went with classic bleu. I hope you all find it easy on your eyes. I'm not in love with it just yet, but maybe I'll tweak the colors later and see if it grows on me.

In other news, I finally figured out how to use my new custom domain name AND not disrupt the lives of my lovely bloggy buddies by making you change your reader subscriptions, etc. Turns out that you shouldn't follow the instructions that Blogger gives you AT ALL. Huh, who knew? I'm not a super geeky rockstar type when it comes to HTML but I'm no slouch either ("Don't sell yourself short, Judge. You're a tremendous slouch."). *Ahem*

So yesterday really pissed me off when I couldn't do what I wanted to do. I felt like a Grade A Moron. I had a rough day, and I needed a win.



After frowning at my laptop and scanning countless help forums for a solid two hours last night I finally sent a 9 PM cry for help to my new host company's tech support. Lo and behold, someone emailed me right back with step-by-step instructions and within 3 minutes I had accomplished my goal. It was a Christmas miracle, I tell you! Now my sweet peeps can do NUSSING but I still get to use a fancy new URL that's mine, all mine. HUZZAH! Bev: 1, Blogger: 0.

While I was at it I found this fun little website, so I played around a bit. Enjoy, and feel free to make your own at magmypic.





That's all I've got. Have a good one, all!
xoxo

Wrap it up, wrap it in, let me begin....

Hello, my gorgeous and intelligent readers! How was your weekend? I hope you all got to relax and spend quality time with your loved ones.

I have an important announcement to make: I figured out how to redirect the new url so none of your links will change and you don't have to do a thing. Yay - you know how I value laziness in all forms! So sit back, do nothing, and enjoy.

Now back to my regularly-scheduled shtuff.

On Friday I went to Target and spent a small fortune on gifts, finally. I got some good stuff but still have a long ways to go before I'm close to being finished. I'm not gonna stress over it, though. What gets bought gets bought and what doesn't, doesn't. BAH, HUMBUG! ;)

Saturday was very, very cold and windy. We started the day with me cleaning and the boys playing superheroes, which is pretty standard Saturday AM fare. M has discovered D's old Spiderman costume, which is a bit ripped and tattered. My favorite part is the ripped mask, which allows for just the right amount of faux-hawk to pop out.

M decided to keep poor Jim up for most of the night on Friday, so I took the boys out to give Jim a chance to catch up on some sleep. I had a lab appointment at my doctor's office and had to bring the boys with me, which was hectic. Thank goodness they're very quick and efficient at the lab so I could get in and out without the boys tearing down a drape and taking out some viles of blood or something equally disastrous!

Quote of the morning: "It's okay, baby. Mommy doesn't mind a little prick."

I kept the boys out of the house for as long as I could, but eventually we returned home and we had a nice fire, then Jim erected (heh heh) an 8 ft. tall inflatable Santa Claus that my mom got for the boys. We had shied away from it because of its extremely high cheese quotient, but once it was up we all had to admit that it kind of rocks. It's lit up and you can practically see it from space. Our neighbors had all gone Clark W. Griswold on us and have twinkling lights, garlands, candles and all that jazz, so now we finally look like we celebrate the holiday too, however cheesily.

On Saturday night we were invited over to the home of some new friends for dinner. Jim had gone skiing with this guy one time last year and had a good time, and for some reason we just never ended up getting together even though he called us several times asking to do stuff. Just goes to show you that I am Julie the Cruise Director (without the coke problem) on our Love Boat; I plan all the excursions. When you leave it up to the men it takes a full year to coordinate a dinner party.

They're a very nice couple, they have a huge, gorgeous home that makes ours feel about as luxurious as a double-wide, and our kids are the same ages and got along well. Turns out the dad is a bit of a wine snob, and while I'm not snobby in the slightest I do love to drinka de wine, so we got along just fine. He is a collector so for every bottle he opened the price of admission was listening to him wax poetic about the origin of the grapes and whatnot for 5-10 minutes. We just nodded appreciatively and ooohed and aaahed when necessary. Hey, as long as somebody is gonna keep opening $80 bottles of red, I'm all ears.

Quote of the evening: "This wine is opening up now. Do you taste the notes of oak and hazelnut?"

Me: "Yeah, sure." [glug glug glug]

It was a love connection for Jim and the guy and for our kids, who had a ball. I can hang with the mom too; she's a nice chick, but I don't see us being tight friends or anything. She's got that patented "MOM" look down-pat. She's my age, sure, but... well, we're just not much alike. I really don't want to be mean, so I'll stop now and let you all close your eyes and envision the frumpy-ness on your own. Go ahead, I'll wait.

Get the picture? Yeah, I thought you would. You guys are smaht like that.

I don't care how long I live, I will never just give up and embrace the frump like that. I am young and hip and THAT IS THAT, damn it!



Luckily one of my many talents is an ability to befriend and have a good time with just about anyone (especially when wine is involved), and Jim really needs some closer male friends and he has a lot in common with this guy. They went snowshoeing together on Sunday, too. I think it's man-lurve. ;)

Sunday was nice and quiet, just as I like 'em. We went and got our Christmas tree in the morning and then the kids and I stayed home while Jim went off into the woods with his new BFF. We just sat around and watched Christmas specials and played, and the day went by in a blur of Legos and cookies and Rudolph. We had a simple dinner and shuffled the boys off to bath/book/bed, and not a moment too soon.

Quote of the evening: "Life is not just broccoli and corn, Danny."

Did anyone see last night's season finale of Dexter?! HOLY CRAP! I won't spoil it, but... HOLY CRAP! Mind-blowing, am I right?!

Ok, that's all I've got. It's actually more than I thought I had, but you know me - once I get chatting, it's hard to slow my roll. Have a nice Monday, everyone!

I don't feel like bloggin'

I've got a Scissor Sisters song stuck in my head this morning because I'll admit it: I don't feel like blogging. Go ahead and play this tune while you read this mess, just substitute "bloggin'" for "dancin'."

I admit that I feel compelled to write something for you, my faithful and lovable peeps. If you were here right now I'd ruffle your ragamuffin hair and pinch your rosy cheeks (both sets) because I love you so. But I still don't feel like bloggin'.

What's a girl to do? I'll just give you a brain dump and hope you like it, of course! Here goes.

It's finally winter. It snowed about 9" or so at my house yesterday so school was canceled and we had a rather lazy day. Jim made Bloody Marys and we watched the newest Harry Potter movie with the kiddos, then I took a long hot shower and he snowblowed (snowblew? That just sounds wrong) the driveway. Last night we went over to our friends' house for a casual dinner, mostly because cabin fever was setting in and I didn't feel like cooking. In other news, I finally put some bad-ass snow tires on the Odyssexy, so hopefully I can avoid hitting any more trees this winter. Fingers crossed!

My doctor has me on a truly awful diet right now to prep for a thyroid test I'm having next week, so I'm a little cranky. It seems that even though I typically limit crunchy, salty, chocolatey snacks simply because they're fattening, when I'm told I absolutely cannot have them, naturally they're all I want. Oh well, it's not like it's the holiday season right now and there are yummy treats everywhere I look. Oh wait, yes it is! FML! Ah well, it's temporary and it's not like I couldn't stand to lose a few, so I'm keeping the ol' chin up.

Speaking of Christmas, I've been slacking off on buying gifts this year. No, really, I've only bought two things. I'm just having a hard time getting into the spirit this year. I don't want anything myself, and no one on my list has been outspoken about what they want, so I'm just going to sit down and hit Amazon hard this weekend and hope I get something right. I'm unapologetically apathetic, but hopefully getting the tree this weekend and decking the halls a little bit more will help me get into the swing of things!

I am already looking forward to New Year's Eve though, and not just because I can't wait to kick 2009 to the curb like the disease-infested whore that it is. What? I had a rough year. I am ready for a fresh start, and 2010 seems like a darn good time to get one.

I had a fun little auto-tune video for you to watch, but some sort of copyright infringment made them take it down. BOO. And MEH. BOO-MEH.

Oh! Just found it somewhere else online, and this one seems to work. Enjoy it while you can!



Ok, that's all I got.
Later, taters. (mmm, taters... I want tater chips, or french fried p'taters. CRAP!)

From the Vault

I went through some photos at my mom's house yesterday and found a couple more good 'uns. Time to open up the Vault again and give you a peek at my goods!



The Sixties were a confusing time. Grandma here is thrilled to be receiving what is possibly the most hideous and flammable outfit known to man. She was so excited that she clearly hurried straight to the Christmas morning present-opening without even bothering to put her teeth in. *sigh* I miss that crazy old broad.

Oh, and is that carpet cleaner or AquaNet next to her? Did someone give her cleaning/grooming products for Christmas? [scratching head]

It's well-established that I was a chunky baby, although my sister kindly insists that I was normal-sized and just looked fat in every single photo taken in the 1970's. However, this picture is pretty irrefutable proof that I was massive.

<----

Last but not least, I didn't even know that I still had these photos, so I have to share. When I was a teenager I babysat A LOT. It blows my mind nowadays that I can't pay a teenager to come watch my kids so we can have a night out because they are all just too busy, yet I worked for $3/hour and always said yes. (said the hooker) At any rate, throughout my teenage years one of my best "clients" was a single mom with two little girls whom she had adopted from India. Boss Lady had some money and loved to travel, but doing so with two kids under 5 was not easy for her, so she'd often bring along a sitter. When I was 17 she asked me to go to Switzerland with them for two weeks, and because my mama didn't raise no fools, I said "HELL YES!"

It was an interesting trip; I wasn't nuts about being with the kids and Boss Lady 24/7, but the sights I saw were so incredible that it was well-worth dealing with the spoiled brats children while she went off hiking for most of each day. The night we arrived in Geneva it was raining and foggy so I didn't see a single mountain until the next day. I'll never forget waking up in my dark room and opening up the curtains to the most breathtaking view I'd ever, ever, EVER seen. The pics don't do it justice.






"The hills are aliiiiiive... with the sound of Griswold...."

Anywho, there it is. I've got something special planned for later this week or early next. Would you all be interested in doing another round of "I'll show you mine/yours?" I've got a fun idea for those who want in.

Hope you're all having a happy Monday.
xoxo

Pop Culture Stew - it's piping hot!

Because I can't be bothered to organize my thoughts today, here's a random sampling of some stuff I've come across this week that I thought was noteworthy. Bon appetit!

Behold: the world's biggest bikini model.

No, this is not Photoshop at work, "Amazon Eve" is really 6'8" tall and a working model in Australia. Wowza! That's alotta woman!

I suddenly feel very short and stumpy in comparison.

What do you think, guys? Is this super hot or kind of intimidating? Spill. (not like that, ya pervs, I just shampooed the carpet in here!)

When did Helen Hunt get so scary-looking?
Sure, she's almost fifty and you've got to hand it to her for still rockin' a bikini. Who am I to judge? I haven't worn a bikini in public in over a decade.

But, well... she looks kinda rough, no? Maybe have a sandwich, Helen. Women with some plump don't look quite so... um, Crypt Keeper-ish. Just sayin'.

I am not sure why, but this photo made me think of the dark comedy Death Becomes Her. That's yet another one of those 80's/90's movies for which I have an inexplicable fondness; they're not good, per se, but I find myself watching them whenever I find them on TV. Kind of like Love Potion #9, The Money Pit, Baby Boom, Working Girl, and Overboard, to name a few. Yes, I acknowledge that I'm a shameless cheeseball. Sue me.

Puff, puff, pass, Marilyn!



I knew I liked her. What? It's clearly a rolled tobacco cigarette. What did YOU think it was, ya deadbeats? ;)


Are you all aware of the Three Wolf Moon t-shirt phenomenon? Click that link to see the explanation on Dlisted.



I find it hilarious, but then again, I love it when people proudly wear cheesy stuff in an ironic manner (*cough* blue pleather jacket *cough*). I always loved how Bret would wear those funny animal shirts on Flight of the Conchords, for instance.



And for some truly hilarious parodies of the 3 Wolf Moon shirt, look here. I want the Rowlf the Dog one, I think, or Teen Wolf. The Keyboard cat one makes me think of Samsmama!

Mrs. Keaton just came out! Good for her, and better late than never. I saw her at my sister's college graduation ceremony; her daughter was graduating as well. She was the first celebrity I'd ever seen out and about doing real-life stuff, not on stage performing or anything. It was cool. She looked hot.

So, there it is. My stew is always full of fiber and empty calories - the secret ingredient is saw dust. Shhh. I hope you enjoyed it. I know I enjoyed making it.

Have a nice weekend, everyone!