Probable Rambling, Terrible, Horrible, No Good,Very Bad Idea

New Year’s Eve.

Stale cake and terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad wine.


Delicious red velvet cupcakes with cream cheese frosting and Moscato wine.


Work.  Work.  Work.

Peggy Appointment.

Work.  Work.  Work.

Start dating?

Weepy, anxiety-ridden Peggy Appointment.

Do NOT start dating.

Work.  Work. Work.

NEW ORLEANS with sister Boop!

Adorable hotel.

Eat.  Eat.  Eat.

Shop.  Eat.  Shop.

Eat again.

Overhear “He couldn’t get on the internet on account of his flipper.”

Multiple Long Island ice teas at hotel bar.

Ponder alcohol resistance.


Eat. Eat. Eat.

Shop. Curse freezing weather.  Shop.

Get tattoo therapy.

Or is it a therapy tattoo?

Eat. Eat. Eat.


Hot chocolate spiked with peppermint Schnapps.

Ponder alcohol resistance.

Start feeling crappy.


Goodbye Big Easy!

Hour drive.

Lunch with 15 coon-ass relatives.

Hug. Hug.  Hug.

Talk. Eat.  Talk.

Homemade pralines.

Talk. Hug coon-ass relatives I don’t remember.  Talk.

Frankenstein chicken gumbo.

Feel crappier.


Wake up with head full of demonic snot elves.

Homemade biscuits.

Cough. Cough.  Cough.

Lunch with 8 coon-ass relatives.

Answer awkward questions about estranged sister Beena.

Smile and nod while wishing for a nap.

Talk. Talk.  Talk.

More coon-ass relatives.

Suggest hugging a bad idea.

Hug. Hug.  Hug.

Listen to crazy coon-ass stories.

Fake loving bread toasted harder than carbonite.

Grandmother pleased.

Teeth almost broken, but grandmother pleased.

Cough. Cough.  Cough.

Slip into bed.

Listen to pleased grandmother spray Boop with holy water in next room.

Thank Morgan Freeman she didn’t come in and spray me.

Start wondering why she DIDN’T come in and spray me.

Remember I don’t care.

Coughing fit.


Wake up coughing.

Hock up one of 387 demonic snot elf nests inhabiting nasal cavities.

Homemade biscuits.

MORE coon-ass relatives.

Insist hugging a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad idea.

Hug. Hug.  Hug.  Hug.  Hug.  Hug. HUG.

Try to stay conscious while Boop drives to parents’ house.

Six hours later…

Happy, happy furry babies!

Guilted into staying for dinner.

Family smartly votes not to hug Typhoid-Hellish.

Drive home.

Take expired Nyquil.


Call in sick.

Crawl to doctor’s office.

Recoil in horror after stepping on scale.

Negative flu test.

Rabid sinus infection.

HUGE pink pills.


Let the dogs out.


Feed dogs.


Unsuccessfully explain to dogs why mommy’s too almost-dead to go for a walk.


Call in sick.

Repeat previous day, minus doctor.


Drag self to work.

Stupid. Stupid.  Stupid.

Pray for 5 o’clock or death.

Curse ungrateful dogs who still desperately want to go for a walk.

Feel guilty about cursing ungrateful dogs.


Drag self to work.

Ditto the day before.


Finally finish prescription but continue to cough.

Find out groundhogs are also called whistlepigs.

Start calling MadamBob “Whistlepig.”

Work. Work.  Work.

Sneak peaks at tattoo.

More work.

More coughing.

Thank Morgan Freeman it’s the weekend!

Convince family coming over is still a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad idea.

Cough. Nap.  Think about starting eyelash fetish website.


Work. Cough.  Work.

Squee over pictures of KrazyKev’s thumb monkey!

Cough. Work.  Cough.

Completely unsupervised, PITA-less Friday.

Decide rambling blog post is a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad idea.

Fuck it.




Posted in Health, humor, nonsense, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

Christmas Revelations

The holidays are a time for extended family visits, which bring about all kinds of revelations.

This Christmas MadamBob found out her mother did her master thesis on prison gangs and her father doesn’t like black-eyed peas because they taste like dirt.

The combination of Dad’s unchecked diabetes (the house was SO hot), sleeping on my niece A1’s super-hard bed and a non-negotiable night light for her baby bearded dragon lizard caused me to find out what it would be like to sleep on a stack of firewood on the surface of the sun!


This is Jub Jub, who looks big but is actually only 4 inches long.  For now.

Jub Jub

To keep the temperature at sub-tropical levels he has to have a heat lamp on at all times.  This is the view from A1’s bed with Jub Jub’s “night light” on.

Jub Jub's Nightlight

Needless to say, I didn’t get much sleep on Christmas eve.

And then, after watching this scene from “Elf” on Christmas day this happened…

Boop:  He’s so cute!  I wish narwhals were real.

Me:  I know.  I… wait.  Did you just say you wished narwhals were real?

Boop:  Yeah.

Me:  They ARE real.

Mom (from the kitchen):  Pfft!  No they’re not!

Me, A1 & GoldenBoy:  Yes, they are!

Boop:  No way.  Really?

A1:  Really.  See… (show’s Boop her phone)

Mom:  Let me see that… (looking over Boop’s shoulder).  Did you…

A1:  No, I didn’t PhotoShop it.  I could have, but I didn’t.

Boop:  So they ARE real!

Me:  It looks like your Christmas wish came true, Boop!

Boop:  It did!  Next year I’m going to wish Chewbacca is real.

Me:  Kick ASS!

Boop:  And pygmy hippos.


Boop:  What?

GoldenBoy:  A1…

A1 (getting her phone out):  I’m on it.

Ok, let’s recap.

Narwhals AND pygmy hippos are real.  Sleeping on a stack of firewood on the surface of the sun is completely impossible.  Baby bearded dragon lizards are high maintenance and MadamBob’s dad will eat black-eyed peas no matter how much they taste like dirt (they so do!) because it would be unwise to cross a woman with that much knowledge about prison gangs.

So very, very unwise.

Merry Belated Christmas!

Boob cone and gnome butt,





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Elective Girlie Surgery And Wookie Razor Burn

It’s going to be a very long, very slow day.

The bosses are out, the office is uber-quiet and I’m waiting for a text from MadamBob’s husband saying she’s done with her elective girlie surgery.  Emphasis on “elective.”  It’s nothing serious.  Although, they did have her scheduled for stomach cancer surgery at her pre-op appointment.   It took her two days to get it straightened out.

At least she thought it was straightened out.

There’s still a chance they opened her up, found NO stomach cancer and for a split second thought there had been a Christmas miracle before visions of lawsuits started dancing in their heads.

Hopefully she wrote “Stomach Cancer-Free! Do Not Operate!” on herself with the red pen I swiped from the office.


What else?

I finally finished knitting Chewbacca then felted him in the washing machine. Here’s a before and after of the shrinkage:

Chewie Before & After

After he dried it took two hours and three disposable razors to de-fuzz him. Then I spent the rest of the evening shoving Poly-Fil up his freshly shaven crotch until I ran out.  Four bags and he’s still not full!  I see a trip to Michael’s and a Saturday full of swearing and wookie-stuffing in my future.

Which will be followed closely by a week of anxiety about getting his face right and whether or not to go with the traditional bandolier or the medal he sorely deserves or a “Rebel Scum” tattoo or…or…or…

What else?

This one time, at orchestra camp…

Oh look! MadamBob is out of surgery!

Out of Surgery


Ok. Now I can relax!

Is it time to go home now?

What do you mean it’s not even time for lunch?!

No MadamBob and time standing still makes Hellish something, something…


Come on 5 o’clock!

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Must Be Thanksgiving!

The Macy’s parade is in full swing, there’s an improvised razzleberry pie is in the oven and I’m running late.

Must be Thanksgiving!

And there’s much to be thankful for.

Obviously, the most ginormous of them all is the sponge being in jail where he can’t hurt anyone I love.  They moved him this week to a prison in Beeville, TX, which is about a 6 hour drive, which means it’ll be very hard for my sister to visit him, which means my youngest niece won’t have to spend every weekend in prison listening to a raving lunatic.

Thank you SO much Morgan Freeman!

Other than that everything else seems little, even though that couldn’t be further from the truth.

I’m still thankful for my family (whether they’re speaking to me or not) and friends and health and job and roof of my head and all three of my blog readers and Dutch’s machete wound healing up and…

Oh, did I not mention that?

Last Sunday my father was out in the back yard hacking down banana plants with a machete and accidentally hit GoldenBoy’s dog, Dutch, with it.

Dutch Machete

It’s hard to see, but he’s got a six-inch gash full of staples in the middle of that bald patch.  The poor thing didn’t make a sound, not even a yelp.  Dad didn’t even know he’d hit him until he turned around and saw a gaping hole in his side!

Poor Dutchie.  He was a little sad, but he’ll bounce back.  Bitches love scars, you know.

What else?

I’m thankful for green sauce, Nutella, not having too be cut out of my house, almost being done knitting a giant Chewbacca and…

Did I not mention that either?

With all the stress last year I lost the will to knit, but after buying tickets to see the new Star Wars movie I was inspired again and started work on a giant Chewbacca!

When I say “giant” I mean he’s going to be huge compared to anything else I’ve ever knit…

Chewbacca knit and blurry

Yes, that’s me and yes it’s taller than I am (5’2″).  I need to reshape his head and finish one of his arms, but the knitting is almost over!  After that I felt him in the washing machine (he’ll shrink by  1/3), stuff him and then try not to screw him up when I needle felt his face.

Don’t worry.  Once he’s shrunk, stuffed and I sew his crotch up his legs will look more proportionate!

Trust me.

If he turns out how I picture him in my head and he’s not too big I’m going to take him to the movies with us.

Consider yourself warned, MadamBob!

I should make him a medal!  What do you think?


The pie’s done!

And it exploded.

razzleberry pie exposion

All over the bottom of the oven!

Clearly I improvised wrong.

Then again, I had one explode on me before and it ended up oozing out of the cake cover and into the passenger seat of my old Equinox.

And that was without improvisation.

Maybe that’s just what razzleberry pies do!  They explode!  Someone should really disclose that in the recipe.

Oh well, as long as it tastes good, right?

It’s going to be interesting getting it across town.

Speaking of, I’d better get moving before the family starts rioting.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone!







Posted in humor, knitting, Star Wars, The Holidays, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , | 2 Comments

Five Homerisms I Use In Real Life

Homer: Fiddle-dee-dee. That will require a tetanus shot.

Stepping on a nail after promising not to swear prompted this from Homer. Slamming my fingers in a car door while in the presence of my nieces prompted it from me. Also the time I nearly ripped my pinky toe off at my parents’ house and the time I pierced my tongue with a bristle from a steel grill brush that was hiding in my steak. That last one actually required a tetanus shot.


Homer (after changing his name to Max Power): Kids, there’s three ways to do things – the right way, the wrong way and the Max Power way!

Bart: Isn’t that the wrong way?

Homer/Max Power: Yeah, but faster!

MadamBob and I frequently scream “MAX POWER!” at pedestrians who lack a sense of urgency while moseying through a crosswalk when WE have the green light. If you’re going to do something the wrong way at least do it the Max Power way and move your ass!


Homer: Shut up brain, or I’ll stab you with a Q-tip!

When Peggy said she wanted me to work on getting rid of my negative thought patterns I’m pretty sure this isn’t what she meant, but it works! Not for long, but it works.


Homer: To alcohol! The cause of – and solution to – all of life’s problems!

I can hold my liquor very well, but I don’t drink enough to use this quote as-is, so it’s often customized to fit the situation. Other causes of – and solutions to – all of life’s problems include: Nutella, creamy jalapeno dip, dating, dogs, money, push-up bras, cell phones, social media, sea monkeys and Goldenboy’s personal favorite – sisters.


Homer: No beer and no TV make Homer something, something…

Marge: Go crazy?

Homer: Don’t mind if I do!

This one was born to be a fill-in-the-blank!

No margaritas and no green sauce make Hellish something, something…

No carpool and no MadamBob make Hellish something, something…

No Max Power and no shotgun make Hellish something, something…

Go crazy?


That was fun!  And easy since I was already halfway there.

Now tell me…

What do you say when you require a tetanus shot?  What do you wish would work at Max Power?  What did your brain say to make you stab it with a Q-tip?  What is the cause of – and solution to – all of your problems?  What no ___ and no ___make you something, something…?

And what Homerisms do you use?

Come on Marge!  We’re missing the chili cook-off!

I mean, spill it Mildred.

I know it’s not just me!

This time.

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