Not The Favorite
Monday, April 28, 2008
Oh No You Di'nt!
I made it out with the girls on Saturday night for my cousins stagette party. And I got my very first trip in a limo! When the limo got to the house, me and few other girls ran to get in and I somehow got the end seat at the very back. Now when you try to squeeze 13 into a limo capable of holding 10, something has to give. And that something was me. I ended up getting squished out and had to sit on the floor. Boo. Well, the trip to the second bar I made sure to get in somewhere in the middle. Gotta tell ya, limo’s rule when in an actual seat.
We had tons of fun out, although I was sad at the lack of money making games for the bars. I mean really, where was the “Suck for a Buck” t-shirt and standard bag of suckers??? Our bride-to-be lucked out and didn’t even have a list of ridiculous tasks to complete by nights end. Men – your undies are safe for another stagette.
I had so much fun and way too many shooters. At the end of the night, the Princess and I left together and we decided to grab a hotdog from the cart in front of Sweets. Whilst waiting, an older man came up to us and started in on the standard drunk guy stuff, you know “you’re so pretty and you girls are so beautiful” crap. Well, apparently we weren’t gracious enough or at all really. The next thing I know, he’s calling me a spoiled brat and a bitch. Whoa, and the gloves came off. Nobody, especially some drunk asshole, calls me a bitch and gets away with it. I distinctly remember telling him that I didn’t know him from a piece of shit on the street and what gives him the right to talk to me that way.
Princess kept telling me to leave, but she did get in a dig about him wearing sunglasses at 1am. We finally started up the street with this asshat following us. He got a little too close for comfort to me, so I turned around and with my best calm, stern, mommy voice and pointed finger, I looked him straight in the eye and said Sir, if you don’t leave us alone, I’m going to call 911. (Yes, I really called him sir.) That was that and he crossed the street.
Side note, cab service SUCKS at 1am. I called for two cabs since P and I were going in opposite directions and NEITHER of them showed up. We each managed to get cabs a half hour later just by grabbing them as they passed by.
How about this?
1 double Sailor Jerry’s rum and coke
3 Lime Fuzzy Ducks
2 Jello Shooters
1 Rootbeer Schnapp’s shooter
1 PornStar shooter
1 Vodka and Sprite
And I woke up feeling pretty damn good, and if you know me, this is HUGE. I usually get a major hangover from just 3 beers. Dude, the times be changin…
We had tons of fun out, although I was sad at the lack of money making games for the bars. I mean really, where was the “Suck for a Buck” t-shirt and standard bag of suckers??? Our bride-to-be lucked out and didn’t even have a list of ridiculous tasks to complete by nights end. Men – your undies are safe for another stagette.
I had so much fun and way too many shooters. At the end of the night, the Princess and I left together and we decided to grab a hotdog from the cart in front of Sweets. Whilst waiting, an older man came up to us and started in on the standard drunk guy stuff, you know “you’re so pretty and you girls are so beautiful” crap. Well, apparently we weren’t gracious enough or at all really. The next thing I know, he’s calling me a spoiled brat and a bitch. Whoa, and the gloves came off. Nobody, especially some drunk asshole, calls me a bitch and gets away with it. I distinctly remember telling him that I didn’t know him from a piece of shit on the street and what gives him the right to talk to me that way.
Princess kept telling me to leave, but she did get in a dig about him wearing sunglasses at 1am. We finally started up the street with this asshat following us. He got a little too close for comfort to me, so I turned around and with my best calm, stern, mommy voice and pointed finger, I looked him straight in the eye and said Sir, if you don’t leave us alone, I’m going to call 911. (Yes, I really called him sir.) That was that and he crossed the street.
Side note, cab service SUCKS at 1am. I called for two cabs since P and I were going in opposite directions and NEITHER of them showed up. We each managed to get cabs a half hour later just by grabbing them as they passed by.
How about this?
1 double Sailor Jerry’s rum and coke
3 Lime Fuzzy Ducks
2 Jello Shooters
1 Rootbeer Schnapp’s shooter
1 PornStar shooter
1 Vodka and Sprite
And I woke up feeling pretty damn good, and if you know me, this is HUGE. I usually get a major hangover from just 3 beers. Dude, the times be changin…
Labels: Drinking
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
Bow Chicka Wa-waaaaa
God, it's been boring over here. I have nothing to write about. Well, nothing I want to write about on here anyway.
So, I'll ask you all for some advice on the Whiny, CrankyPants I call my kid. How do you fix the "I caaaan't!!" that comes after asking the little bugger to do something you know damn well she can do? I'm at my wits end.
BTW Skittles flavored Lip Smackers RULE!
So, I'll ask you all for some advice on the Whiny, CrankyPants I call my kid. How do you fix the "I caaaan't!!" that comes after asking the little bugger to do something you know damn well she can do? I'm at my wits end.
BTW Skittles flavored Lip Smackers RULE!
Sunday, April 06, 2008
Where's The Cheese To Go With My Whine??
Aside from the time I spent with my mom birthday shopping yesterday morning and the birthday supper at Erika's last night, this has to be one of, if not, THE worst birthdays ever. My actual birthday, today, has been so lackluster I might as well have stayed in bed all day. Except that the cat shat all over the bathtub and I had to clean that up at 6am, then I wake up to Lauren playing in the living room at 6:30 and spend 15 minutes trying to get Jon up because he's "letting me sleep in" this morning, then having to get up around 9 because all I can hear is Lauren yelling "WAKE UP DADDY, WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP!" I get up and he's asleep on the couch. So far the day is off to a stellar start.
No one called me all day to wish me a happy birthday (except Shelley at my parent's house, THANKS! and thanks to all the Facebook Birthday wishes!) I didn't get to pick my meal for supper or what kind of cake I wanted. Jon had to go back to bed at 1:30 because his head hurt so Lauren and I went to family supper by ourselves. Sarah and JJ had to leave to go to a birthday party so they didn't stay for supper. Honestly, I really wish I had crashed that 5 year olds birthday party for a little excitement today.
I had mentioned to Jon a couple of days ago that I would like to get a gift from Lauren this year. Nothing big, anything made from crayons or macaroni would be perfectly acceptable. Nada. And I get a cash present from him because he's a procrastinator. Hey, at least I got something this year from him.
The cat has been sick for a couple of weeks so her gift was explosive diarrhea for me to clean up in the bathroom. Bless her little heart...
When we get home from supper, Jon's still in bed and Lauren has a 102 fever. So I give her some Tylenol and put her to bed and now I'm sitting here all alone. To keep from losing it, I've turned to cleaning. So, the apartment looks great, laundry is done and I feel like shit.
Happy Fucking Birthday to me.
No one called me all day to wish me a happy birthday (except Shelley at my parent's house, THANKS! and thanks to all the Facebook Birthday wishes!) I didn't get to pick my meal for supper or what kind of cake I wanted. Jon had to go back to bed at 1:30 because his head hurt so Lauren and I went to family supper by ourselves. Sarah and JJ had to leave to go to a birthday party so they didn't stay for supper. Honestly, I really wish I had crashed that 5 year olds birthday party for a little excitement today.
I had mentioned to Jon a couple of days ago that I would like to get a gift from Lauren this year. Nothing big, anything made from crayons or macaroni would be perfectly acceptable. Nada. And I get a cash present from him because he's a procrastinator. Hey, at least I got something this year from him.
The cat has been sick for a couple of weeks so her gift was explosive diarrhea for me to clean up in the bathroom. Bless her little heart...
When we get home from supper, Jon's still in bed and Lauren has a 102 fever. So I give her some Tylenol and put her to bed and now I'm sitting here all alone. To keep from losing it, I've turned to cleaning. So, the apartment looks great, laundry is done and I feel like shit.
Happy Fucking Birthday to me.
Labels: Rants
Tuesday, April 01, 2008
Flame Baby Flame
I was watching Dateline or 20/20 a few nights ago about homosexuality and transgenders and I’ve been thinking about a certain part of it since. They seem to think they may have found a “gay” gene and I got pretty worked up about it when I heard that.
In the Nature vs. Nurture debate, I am a firm believer that a person is born gay, it’s not something they learn or choose to do. The reason I am so up in arms about the possibility gay gene is that, I’m afraid people will want to start genetic screening and abort babies because they don’t want a gay son or daughter.
And what if they get a positive result after genetic testing and decide to keep the baby out of obligation due to culture or religion, instead of love? Will they raise their child different? Will they treat little Billy or Suzie differently? Will they grow up shamed from the day they are born because of something they were destined to be? You can’t force homosexuality out of someone. Forcing Tonka trucks and dirt bikes on boys and princesses and dresses on girls won’t change what a person feels inside.
The whole idea of genetically testing fetuses for non-health related “issues” scares the crap out me. If my child turned out to be gay, I wouldn’t love them any less or treat them differently because of it. And I hate the fact that there are people out there who don’t see it that way, because of their closed minds and homophobic beliefs.
There is nothing wrong with being gay. And it would serve absolutely zero purpose to find out in utero. It is our jobs as parents to love our kids for who they are; gay, straight, tall, short, fat, thin, easy-going, stubborn, introvert, extrovert and the list goes on.
Oh and the male transgender who is now pregnant? It's not a miracle of science, the woman-turned-man never had the gender reassignment surgery. She took testosterone hormones to have more masculine features, but still had all the female parts required for reproduction. All he had to do was start taking some estrogen to increase his female hormones add some donated sperm and VOILA! he/she was pregnant. No miracle of science, just hormones. It's only weird to look at since he/she still looks like a man. It's not "Junior" people...
In the Nature vs. Nurture debate, I am a firm believer that a person is born gay, it’s not something they learn or choose to do. The reason I am so up in arms about the possibility gay gene is that, I’m afraid people will want to start genetic screening and abort babies because they don’t want a gay son or daughter.
And what if they get a positive result after genetic testing and decide to keep the baby out of obligation due to culture or religion, instead of love? Will they raise their child different? Will they treat little Billy or Suzie differently? Will they grow up shamed from the day they are born because of something they were destined to be? You can’t force homosexuality out of someone. Forcing Tonka trucks and dirt bikes on boys and princesses and dresses on girls won’t change what a person feels inside.
The whole idea of genetically testing fetuses for non-health related “issues” scares the crap out me. If my child turned out to be gay, I wouldn’t love them any less or treat them differently because of it. And I hate the fact that there are people out there who don’t see it that way, because of their closed minds and homophobic beliefs.
There is nothing wrong with being gay. And it would serve absolutely zero purpose to find out in utero. It is our jobs as parents to love our kids for who they are; gay, straight, tall, short, fat, thin, easy-going, stubborn, introvert, extrovert and the list goes on.
Oh and the male transgender who is now pregnant? It's not a miracle of science, the woman-turned-man never had the gender reassignment surgery. She took testosterone hormones to have more masculine features, but still had all the female parts required for reproduction. All he had to do was start taking some estrogen to increase his female hormones add some donated sperm and VOILA! he/she was pregnant. No miracle of science, just hormones. It's only weird to look at since he/she still looks like a man. It's not "Junior" people...
Labels: Controversial, Rants
