With Mother Nature showing a warmer side, more people are dressing for the change. The outfits and looks for hot weather never fail to scare the crap out of me. Since when did it become acceptable to wear lingerie outside of the bedroom and claim it is a tank top or a dress? How about a smidgen of fabric covering each nipple and calling it a bikini top? Don’t even get me started on the thongs. Why would you want a string up your butt all day long?? And then, let’s try to go swimming with that epidemic? No thank you. Also, even in nice weather, a bra is REQUIRED if you have boobs. And pretty please, if you plan to wear a tank top, shave your pits!!!
Sunless tanning lotion. Just DON’T DO IT! You will look orange and pathetic and nobody is going to be in awe of your supposedly awesome tan. And, everywhere you sit will be stained in oil. So, I come along and need a place to park my butt and have to wipe off my seat first. Don’t sit out in the sun until you look like a shriveled up old prune either. It’s not healthy and it’s not attractive. Daisy Dukes. They can be sexy but only IF you have the body and never at a family reunion, church or work. But, don’t be surprised when men are drooling all over you. Why act offended? That’s what you were going for right?
Most of us will be too big and too white for the season. Don’t sweat it. Be comfortable in your own skin and get out there and enjoy the world.
I think you know it is time to take a step back from social media when it has you teetering on the brink of insanity daily. Enough with the ugly baby pictures! We know you love your kid and one or two pictures is fine but 15 shots of the same pose is a bit too much. Oh, now it is drooling, now it is wearing a hat, now we put a teddy bear next to it. What will be next? Now it is eating, now it is sleeping. Will it poop? The suspense is killing me. Next up: the rude comments. Didn’t your mother ever tell you if you didn’t have anything nice to say, not to say anything? (you can see I never learned this lesson either). But seriously, Why be hating on a girl just because she thinks she is a duck or believes she is a size 0 when she is really a 16? How about the complete and total slaughter of the English language? Numbers are not part of words and there is a difference between YOUR and YOU’RE. Look it up. Guess what? We know you hate your job because we all hate our jobs too! There is no need to state that fact. Nor do you need to count down the hours until you get off, it just makes us want to shoot ourselves in the head too. One last thing, don’t post the messages saying I will win $100 if I share this or if I don’t share this post, 50 puppies will die. Whether I re-post this, ignore it or don’t even see it, the same exact thing will happen: NOTHING.
They say it’s better to be pissed off than pissed on. You know what? They are right. Have you ever actually been pissed on? Today, I had that experience. We’re not talking a golden shower or anything like that. It was the work of my baby daughter. A rookie mistake on my part. I took off the old diaper, put a new one under her and went in for a quick raspberry. What I received was a pee waterfall, not a few small drips either; more like Niagara Falls. I pulled away all disgusted with piss dripping off of my chin. When I asked her what she was doing, she just laughed and laughed. Devious children! They know so much more than they let on. Don’t trust them I tell you. At least she got some cheap entertainment to start her day.
I will never understand the people who refuse to use public restrooms. Sure, it’s inconvenient. They usually stink and sometimes you have to battle it out for some TP. But, if you have to take a dump, you have to take a dump! I don’t really care where I am at, if they have a restroom I am using it (I am not above squatting in the woods either). I can’t comprehend why you would torture yourself and try to hold it in. I once dated a guy who always had to stay close to home in case he needed to use the bathroom. It was absolutely ridiculous planning an outing around his bathroom needs. We would have to leave concerts, clubs, picnics, you name it; just so he could go home to take a poop. One day he had the flu but still went into work. Needless to say, that day he didn’t make it home in time. His white pants were loaded with green diarrhea. I laughed for a good hour. Then, he actually thought I would launder those pants for him. Get serious! I told him to throw those stank things out, this isn’t the poop patrol. Bathrooms are there for a reason. So plug you nose, do your business and move on with life. As far as I can tell, women have it much worse. We are the ones who have to wait in line for an hour…
Damn you social media! Now, my daughter has been sucked into the madness. I know, I am a geezer and too old fashioned. But, I don’t believe 10 year olds belong on Facebook, Tweety, Clicker or whatever the heck is out there. She just isn’t ready for those pressures and doesn’t understand the safety measures that need to be taken. Nonetheless, today her dad found her on Instagram. He called me and I asked her about it and got the instant tears but she claims she doesn’t have it on her iPod. Well, she doesn’t have the app anymore. She deleted it, so she’s got me there. But, her account still exists with pictures and posts a plenty. When I asked her why she wanted the account she said EVERYONE in her class has it! I don’t know if that’s true but she will be the ONE who doesn’t. Now, I am the big, bad meanie. That’s ok, I am here to be her MOM first and then her friend. Can’t we just keep playing Candyland?? I am not ready for all of this.
Everyone’s got an opinion. And, they aren’t afraid to voice it, especially when they are hiding behind a computer screen. Don’t you just love all of the political posts and rants?! I don’t mind that people share their voice, but before you do, try to have at least some clue regarding what you are talking about. People go on and on and make no sense. They really want to say something, they just aren’t educated enough to know what. But, instead of remaining silent, they hop on board with a campaign they are clueless about and will fight to the death for it. It doesn’t matter that they are actually fighting against their best interests, they just want to yell. Be a part of things, have a voice, and by all means vote. Just know who and what you are fighting for…
R.I.P. Dr. Derek Shepherd. Grey’s Anatomy killed off the beloved McDreamy character in last night’s episode. The crowd went wild. Fans have posted thousands of comments expressing their anger and even threatening the show’s creator. Now, I am a fan too and love me some McDreamy. But, get a grip people! It is just a show and he was just a character. I loved him in Can’t Buy Me Love, Loverboy and Sweet Home Alabama too. He will go on to do other projects. HE isn’t ACTUALLY dead.
I hope women realize that NO McDreamy actually exists, anywhere. There is no guy on Earth that always looks great, knows all the right things to say and will make your heart skip a beat every time he walks into a room (men: the female version is non-existent as well). It’s made up, make-believe, a DREAM for sure. What does exist are several versions of McNightmare. If you don’t believe me, just look back on every person you have ever dated. Sweet dreams? Probably not. Even McDreamy himself has 2 EX wives. Just saying.
Some people like to sing in the shower. I prefer to sing in the car. I sound awesome and the trip to wherever I am headed is a much happier one (it curbs my road rage). But, what do you do when someone catches you singing? Not a damn thing! What do I have to be embarrassed about? I am rockin’ it. It isn’t like I got caught picking my nose or something. I just keep right on singing. Today I was caught singing almost an entire chorus (air guitar and drums included). I was unaware that a car full of teenagers was stopped next to me at the light. They were kind enough to clap and cheer for me before speeding off. See, I am good. I should start charging for my show on the road. It is becoming a family band as my youngest daughter had busted out some moves too. My oldest daughter will also join in but only if it is Taylor Swift or One Direction (yes, I am still working on her). Keep an eye out for us, we are the next big thing rolling through your town.
Passwords. They are everywhere. You can’t do anything without them. Those little login boxes are lurking all around just waiting to mock at me and spew out “Password incorrect, please try again”. For “safety” reasons we are told to not reuse the same password for different places. And, it shouldn’t be anything obvious like our address, kids’ names or favorite sports team. How on Earth could I remember anything else, most days I can barely recall what day of the week it is. I would seriously have to remember about 20 different user name/password combinations just to get through the day. Now, most sites have added the bonus of needing a capital letter, a symbol, a number and who knows what else. Like it wasn’t hard enough to begin with. I keep trying what I think the password is until I get the message asking me if I have forgotten my password. No, I am purposely entering the wrong crap just to waste time and see if I can drive myself crazy. Then, you get the endless questions verifying that this is your account. What is my favorite food? What was my first job? What was the name of your first pet? Now, you would think I should know the answers to these questions. After all, I have answered them before and this shit is about me. But, sometimes I still get it wrong and receive a message saying I have to contact customer service. At that point I start cussing, slam the computer down and give up the fight. Until we meet again…which is probably tomorrow.
Let’s clear something up about the “Like” button on Facebook. It isn’t merely an acknowledgment of the person’s post. It means that you actually LIKE what they have said. For example, if I post “What a day! I fell down in the street and broke my butt. Then, a car ran over me!” and you “Like” it; you like that I fell down, that my butt is broke, that a car ran me over or all of the above. What the hell kind of friend is that? We are on Facebook complaining because we would like some sympathy (or at least help with the lyrics for our country song). So be a friend, don’t “Like” our misery. It is never cool to “Like” a post about a lost job, grandma’s funeral, a dead dog or a recent bitter breakup. Hit that button that says “Comment” and type “Thinking of You”. It’s that easy to NOT be ignorant.