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Are You There God? It’s Me, Dumbass

26 Jul

Due to a nasty storm which resulted in hail damage, the house is getting new siding.  I’m excited, but due to my almost constant state of annoyance, the whole things has been a bit….annoying.

I had worked myself up into an annoyed tizzy just thinking about it while watering my flowers the other morning when I heard a buzzing in my ear.  Thinking it was a bee getting ready to fly into my ear, have millions of bee babies that would sting my brain, and then all fly out my nose after killing me, I instinctively swatted it away.  I used the same hand I was holding the garden hose in.  I ended up spraying myself in the face:


I looked around to make sure no one *clear throat* Hubby saw that.  I was in the clear, and so continued to water the plants.

I was giving the rose-bush in front of our diningroom window a good soaking when I noticed that the shutters could use a fresh coat of paint.  “I wonder if they would paint the shutters when they replace the siding”, I wondered….out loud. 

*SIDE NOTE:  I talk to myself…a lot.  It’s not really talking to myself.  It’s more like thinking out loud.  The problem is that I tend to ramble.  Imagine what that looks like to a normal person.  A bit cray-cray.

Just then I heard a soft muffled voice say something like,  “I can’t believe this.”  The voice sounded distant.  The neighbors must have had their radio on or something.  Oh well.

I was working my way to the flowers at the back of the house when the hose got knotted on something.  That put me over the edge:

SON OF A BITCH! I hate this g-damn hose!  Why does it always get knotted?!  You would think they would have invented something that stops hose knots.  Actually, they probably have something at Home Depot.  I should look the next time I go.  I think we need AA batteries, too.  And, I think they have a sale on charcoal.  I’ll have to call mom.  She always knows when there’s a sale on something.

My tirade was interrupted when I was startled by “the voice”.  This time the voice was a little less muffled.  It sounded like it was coming from my butt.  Maybe I had butt dialed someone? I panicked at the thought of having gotten my phone wet.  I reached for my back pocket (wait for it)  with the hand holding the hose.  Good news:  My phone was in the house.  Bad news:  My face and my ass were totally soaked. 

The voice:  How long?….Again?  Seriously?

Me:  Hello?  Hubby?

The voice:  …..all day.  Moron. 

Me:  Whatever!  I’m almost done watering the plants.  Keep your pants on…for now. *chuckle*

The voice:  What?

Me:  Did you go to the store yet?  Can you check if there’s something that prevents garden hose knots?  I’ve been having technical difficulties out here.

The voice:  Hello?  Ma’am?

Me:  (Confused)  Hello?

The voice:  Hello?  I’m up here. 

Just then I looked up to see a man sitting on our very steep roof and a very looooong ladder laying on the ground with my garden hose knotted around it.   Then, I realized that it was Saturday.  The insurance adjuster was coming on Saturday to survey the damage on the roof and siding.  He was coming early, was going to climb up, inspect the roof, and leave.  We wouldn’t even notice he was there.

Me:  (Mortified.  Staring straight ahead.)  Hiiiiiiiiiiii.  You must be Tom from the insurance company?

The voice:  Yeah.

Me:   I suppose you need this ladder to get down?

The voice:  Yeah.  I do.

Me:  How long….

The voice:  A couple of hours.  I hoped to get your attention when I saw you come out to water the plants, but….

Me:  Soooooo…you saw?

The voice: (beyond annoyed and terrified by the crazy lady who talks to herself) Can you just get the ladder, Ma’am?

Thankfully, (for Tom) we haven’t had to deal with each other since that day.  When Hubby asked me why he was suddenly fielding the calls from Tom the Insurance Adjuster, I just told him that Tom was probably being sexist and would rather deal with “the man of the house.” 

Hubby’s not buying it.


No, I Didn’t Get Raptured. Just Ripped.

1 Jun

What’s up Interweb?!

So, yeah.  I took an unexpected hiatus.  I basically took a hiatus from everything including, but not limited to, cleaning my house, yard work, and checking anything off of my To Do List.   Things I didn’t take a hiatus from include eating ice cream, reading some really good books, humpy time with the Hubby, and piña coladas.

Since my last post, I am now the mother to an adorable, but extremely a-hole-ish, new puppy!  I forgot how much work a puppy can be, especially when you end up with an a-hole like Kemba.  Obviously, I love him, but he’s sort of evile.  As a matter of fact, as I type this I can hear his evil puppy growls and snarls as Hubby sternly repeats, “Kemba!  No bite!!”.  This has been going on for about 20 minutes.  We better break that dog’s spirit soon or I’m afraid we’re going to end up with a complete dickhead of a dog.

I can’t wait to read what you guys have been up to.  I missed you.  Seriously.  I’m not just saying that because I’m drunk.  As my classy girl, Snooki, would say, “I love you so much, I want you to get it in”.

Jersey Shore, Bitches!

Boys are Made of Frogs and Snails and Puppy-Dog Tails

19 Apr

It is with great joy that I introduce you to the newest member of the DMTF household, Duke Kemba Red De Los Santos de Sevilla (Kemba for short):

King of Cute

I was going to wait on the birth announcement until he grew less mole-looking and more Cockapoo-looking, but the excitement was too much for me handle. 

Here he is again:

Shhh. Can you hear my ovaries bursting?

Kemba needs to stay with his birth mother for a few more weeks, but believe me when I tell you that my uterus aches with the need to caress this creature.  I yearn to lay his warm fuzzy puppy body against my chest and breathe in his puppy breath.  I want to hold him up to my face and gaze into his puppy eyes as I envision a future full of puppy cuteness, flower costumes, and dog booties.  I want to swaddle him in the softest of baby blankets, warm him a bottle, powder and diaper his fuzzy little puppy butt, and carry him around in a car seat.  I can’t wait to get him home.   

You may think my love for Kemba is a little over the top.  I totally agree.  My undying love is not the biggest problem, however.  You see, I wanted a girl dog.  I already have a boy dog.   This time, I wanted a small, pink ribbons in her hair, doggy nails polished, pink tutu wearing, girly girl of a dog.  Alas, it was not meant to be.  All the females in Kemba’s litter were spoken for, and there was no way my womb would withstand the wait until late October for the new litter.  So, I settled for the runt. 

Luckily, I’ve come up with a solution.  I’ve decided to raise Kemba as a girl dog.  Hubby and Son have made it clear that any attempt I make to present Kemba as a girl will be met with fierce opposition.  They have threatened to turn him against me by rough housing with him, and teaching him to fetch.  Son said he would make it his personal mission to discourage Kemba from sitting on my lap.  Do you see what I’m dealing with? 

My intention was to conduct a poll and let you guys decide whether or not I’m completely nuts (he-he).  Instead, I’ve made an executive decision.  

Kemba and I will have a secret.  When no one is looking I will whisper into his ear that she’s such a pretty girl.  I will remind her how much Mama loves her little girl.  When no one is home I will dress her up in puppy evening gowns and doggy heels.   I will also teach Takeo how to clap for his sister as she promenades around the living room in her puppy bikini. 

It should be noted that I just took a break to look at the Kemba pictures, again, and I’m pretty sure I just felt the milk come in.  My boobs are rock hard.