Maybe I should do this more often.

So, it's been over 3 years since I posted, because I hardly ever get on my laptop to get on the internet. I just do everything I need to do on my phone. Is there a Blogger app? Maybe I'd be more active. Not a lot has changed. The kids are still growing like bad weeds. I've got one in high school, one in junior high, and one is still in elementary. They still drive me crazy. Oh! We all take taekwondo. That's something we weren't doing the last time I posted. We'll be testing for our black belts in December. Blaine and I will be celebrating 11 years next month. It feels like 11,000. Maybe my life will get more interesting soon and I can bore you with my stories. Just wanted to post something new.

Where have I been?

Not in a boat with a goat. Or in a house with a mouse. Just not posting here, for sure. I have been in a house with 3 crazy children, a crackhead cat, and a dog that doesn't know when to move out of my fucking way!

I'm a little bit ADD....I forget. A lot. I get sidetracked. A lot. I need Post-It notes, I guess. And it's not like I haven't had shit to talk about, because I have. We've had two motherfucking hurricanes hit Louisiana since my last post. That's something to goddamn talk about. Country lost his job because of one of those bastards!

I read Twilight, New Moon, Eclipse, and Breaking Dawn. My housework suffered for a week. And I read the Sookie Stackhouse novels. I watched the entire season of True Blood. Now I want to secretly be a vampire.

We got a cat...you know, the crackhead one I mentioned earlier. I call her a crackhead because there is no other excuse for her behavior other than her being on drugs of some sort. Her name is Bella. BTW, I named her that before I'd even heard of Twilight.

Anyway, there's more to what's been going on in my life than all that, but I'm not going to get into all of it.

And maybe I'll stop neglecting my blog someday!

Home is where the heathens are...

Kennedy went to stay with Blaine's parents for four days, and I'll tell you what, the ride home from bringing her to them was A-M-A-Z-I-N-G-L-Y quiet. There was no fighting in the backseat. No hitting or crying or foul language. I did not have to threaten bodily harm or take off my flip flop once the whole time!

Rhiannon and Colton both rode along looking out their window without having to worry about an elbow coming out of left field or a fist upside their head because their foot was too close to hers...

But....I miss the little turd! Our house isn't the same and it kinda makes me sad. I know she's giving Granny and Pawpaw hell, so I should get some pleasure out of that!

Rhiannon will go next week for 4 days, and The Boy will go the week after for the same amount of time. Too bad they couldn't take them all together...although, I'd probably feel lost without my little heathens. All the whining and moaning I do about how they live to make me crazy, and all I want is for them to be home...

Shut. Up. Seriously...SHUT UP!

My kids are my world. I love my kids immensely. I would kill for my kids. I would die for them.

But if I hear any more screaming, crying, bickering, tattling, whining, name-calling, or one of them say, "Mom!" in a voice that would make Satan cringe, I am seriously going to lose my fucking mind.

Only 36 days, 13 hours, and 50 minutes ... or so I've heard, because I'm not really counting ... until they're back in school!

It's very "moving."

A once in a lifetime event, I'm sure...going to see The Moving Wall on Independence Day. Well that's what we did. It had rained earlier in the day, and I hoped it would subside for our trip up there. It did. We walked around the mud and avoided the puddles while the sun shined above. Reading the thousands of names inscribed on the half-size replica of the Vietnam Veteran's Memorial that is located in Washington D.C. was truly an experience.

Location, location, location!

So, I attempted fireworks pictures for the first time ever. We weren't in the best spot - hence the car you see in some of the pictures...and I didn't have a tripod - I propped my camera on the trunk of my car and randomly snapped away. Next year, it's all about location, location, location! And I'll have a tripod and probably a remote...must be prepared! But I was kinda pleased with my trial and error shots.

A few of my favorites out of all my favorites!







And here are all of the shots that I chose as favorites.

Hello? Is anybody out there?

I haven't forgotten about this blog...

It's obvious...I'm a crackhead.

Next weekend is a big deal. We're having a birthday party - complete with pizzas, cakes, ice cream, a piñata, and a bounce house with slide...much like this one. There will be lots of screaming kids, plenty of fun, and hopefully no fighting or broken bones. This will all take place at my house, because I'm on crack, evidently. What other reason could be behind my planning such an event at my home?

I will have to clean before and after the party. I will have to keep the extra children out of my kids' rooms. I will have to make sure the dog is gone for the day.

I have lost my ever-lovin' mind.

What did she just say?

Mmmkay, so I bought the movie "Gremlins" for my kids. It's a classic, you can't see it at the store for 10 bucks and not buy it. Well, I can't anyway.

So, Kennedy and I were watching it the other night, and it comes to a part where Phoebe Cates' character is talking about the death of her father on Christmas Eve when she was a child:

"The worst thing that ever happened to me was on Christmas. Oh, God. It was so horrible. .... I was 9 years old. Me and Mom were decorating the tree, waiting for Dad to come home from work. A couple hours went by. Dad wasn't home. ....... Christmas Day came and went, and still nothing. So the police began a search. Four or five days went by. ...... The house was freezing, so I went to try to light up the fire. That's when I noticed the smell. ......they pulled out my father. He was dressed in a Santa Claus suit. He'd been climbing down the chimney. ...... He slipped and broke his neck. He died instantly.

And that's how I found out there was no Santa Claus."

Yeah, read that last line again. Luckily the 5½ year old little girl who will only behave near Christmas-time is if I threaten her with calling Santa Claus and telling him how bad she's been didn't catch it!

I forgot to post my pics!

So, that Photo Hunt thing turned out to be cool. I finished a couple of weeks ago and uploaded all my pics, and as promised... here they are.

Photo Hunt

I put together a game on GAG in which everyone (those who chose to participate, that is) have 30 days to get pictures of the following items. I did this in an effort to motivate myself to take more pictures. Some will be easy to get...some, not so easy.

The list:
bird bath
cell phone
riding lawnmower
church sign
sunset
white flower
dessert
someone washing their car
cotton balls
an animal paw
interstate sign
bottle of pink nail polish
yield sign
cordless drill
shirt with a heart on it
$20 bill
tractor
fried chicken
red hat
6:25 on the clock
map
stuffed animal
cows in a field
something reflecting something else
roll of green yarn
bale of hay
can of corn
tube of red lipstick
bricks
water tower
colander
your shadow
bunch of grapes
magazine
cookies
bracelet
rocks
fence
a burning candle
lamp
old building
blue balloon
backpack
Burger King sign
a soda
sidewalk chalk
steps
a flag
traffic light
a padlock
rust
bridge
funny bumper sticker
postage stamp
duct tape
graffiti
Dr. Seuss book
park slide
eyeglasses
bottle of perfume or cologne
an envelope
a menu
a receipt
a calendar
a shoe box
For Sale sign
pink shoes
rocking chair
an open umbrella
a neon sign
a box of hair dye
dictionary
leather wallet
puzzle piece
cassette tape
greeting card
an "unconventional" mailbox
smoke
a brown belt
fire hydrant
gazebo
crayons
roll of paper towels
bubbles
a basket
M&Ms
railroad crossing sign
water (rain or whatever) drops on a window
boat
street light
jeans
beer bottle
bench
water spigot (faucet)
A Christmas ornament (dig 'em out!)
leaf
clouds
a hammer
73 cents...in whatever coins you want
your car keys
something striped
An ad in your classifieds
a chain
a campaign sign
camouflage
ice
a cool drinking cup
something broken
a blue truck
a satellite dish
a ball
a barber shop pole
a tire
painted toenails
a "W" on a sign
a painting
a footprint
fountain
telephone pole
a watch
a screw
an airplane
a tree limb
marbles
stack of books
keyhole
gas pump nozzle
spiral notebook
a statue
a back scratcher
a box of Macaroni and cheese
a pine cone
a sea shell
a yo yo
chocolate
flashlight
the word "LOVE"
mail truck
dryer lint
button
pay phone
gift bag
a character Band-Aid
grocery list
school bus
a bent fork
unsharpened pencil
an apple
mp3 player earphones
flexible straw

I'll post my album link as I get my pictures!

Why did the chicken cross the road?

There are so many answers to choose from!

AL GORE:
"I invented the chicken!"

ALBERT EINSTEIN:
"Did the chicken really cross the road, or did the road move beneath the chicken ."

ANDERSON COOPER - CNN:
"We have reason to believe there is a chicken,
but we have not yet been allowed to have access
to the other side of the road. "

ARISTOTLE:
"It is the nature of chickens to cross the road."

BARBARA WALTERS:
"Isn't that interesting?
In a few moments, we will be listening to the chicken tell, for the first time,
the heart warming story of how it experienced a serious case of molting,
and went on to accomplish its life long dream of crossing the road. "

BILL CLINTON:
"I did not cross the road with THAT chicken.
What is your definition of chicken ."

BILL GATES:
"I have just released eChicken2008, which will not only cross roads,
but will lay eggs, file your important documents, and balance your check book.
Internet Explorer is an integral part of eChicken.

COLIN POWELL:
"Now to the left of the screen,
you can clearly see the satellite image of the chicken crossing the road..."

COLONEL SANDERS:
"Did I miss one?"

DICK CHENEY:
"Where's my gun?"

DR SEUSS:
"Did the chicken cross the road?
Did he cross it with a toad?
Yes, the chicken crossed the road,
but why it crossed
I've not been told. "

ERNEST HEMINGWAY:
"To die in the rain. Alone. "

GRANDPA:
"In my day we didn't ask why the chicken crossed the road.
Somebody told us the chicken crossed the road,
and that was good enough. "

HILLARY CLINTON:
"I have vast experience with chickens and if elected,
I will ensure that EVERY chicken has the ability to cross any road they desire."

JOHN KERRY:
"Although I voted to let the chicken cross the road, I am now against it!
It was the wrong road to cross, and I was misled about the chicken's intentions.
I am not for it now, and will remain against it. "

JOHN LENNON:
"Imagine all the chickens in the world crossing roads together, in peace. "

MARTHA STEWART:
"No one called me to warn me which way that chicken was going.
I had a standing order at the Farmer's Market to sell my eggs when the price dropped to a certain level.
No little bird gave me any insider information. "

NANCY GRACE:
"That chicken crossed the road because he's GUILTY!
You can see it in his eyes and the way he walks."

PAT BUCHANAN:
"To steal the job of a decent, hardworking American."

GEORGE W. BUSH:
"We don't really care why the chicken crossed the road.
We just want to know if the chicken is on our side of the road, or not.
The chicken is either against us, or for us.
There is no middle ground here."

DR. PHIL:
"The problem we have here is that this chicken won't realize that he must first deal
with the problem on 'THIS' side of the road before it goes after
the problem on the 'OTHER SIDE' of the road.
What we need to do is help him realize how stupid he's acting
by not taking on his 'CURRENT' problems
before adding 'NEW' problems ".

I like this explanation the best, though.

Happy Valentine's Day!

Since I've been away...

...and the puppy didn't cease to grow during that time, I thought I'd post some updated pics of him.

Taken on December 10:








And a month later:



His ears are on backwards!

What the crap...another post today?

Yeah, so I haven't updated in a while. Shit gets busy, ya know? Life happens. And... I forget about this thing. So...sue me. I have some dinner plates I might be able to come off of.

Anything exciting going on with me? Well, I introduced my new fish. That's pretty fuckin' exciting. I got a pet I barely have to take care of! Stick 4-6 pellets in his bowl twice a day, change his water once a week, and don't put another male in with him, and he could live over a year! I think I peed a little.

I got to visit my mom. I hadn't seen her in 3½ years - since right after she had her stroke...Kennedy pretty much had to be re-introduced to her, as she was only 2 the last time she'd seen her. Anyway, we drove to Elkhart, TX and spent a few days with her right before Christmas. It was great, and I hated to leave, but we needed to get back home for Christmas. We'll definitely be making the trip more often.

A couple of pics of my mom, grandmother, and kids.



And in Texas, they paint their state flag on the sides of metal buildings.

Something's fishy...

Introducing our new fish...a Betta named Finn.

Oh, Sleep, where art thou?

When my dad's dogs had a litter of puppies last month, and we decided it would be a good idea to get one for the kids, I had forgotten how much was involved when you bring one of these little shits home.

I'm suffering from a lack of sleep. I like sleep. Sleep is fucking lovely. I miss that bitch called sleep...so much! Since I live in Louisiana, we're not having much of a winter. Yet. But the first night we had our new boxer baby, Duke, a cold front blew through, and when I brought him outside to do his business at 2:30 a.m., it was cold. Like 20 degrees colder than it was when I'd brought him out just 2 hours earlier. And all I could think of was, "This is just a cold front...what the HELL am I gonna do when winter finally comes to the South, and I'm fuh-reezing...for real?"

Anyway, he's a good puppy. Very playful, and super cute. But I'm tired (pun, intended) of getting up every two hours to bring his ass outside! He better love me the most!



Awwwww....

"They were hemmed up like a pair of pants in the 70's!"

So, I got this email forwarded, and I must say it's the funniest thing I've read in a long time. The original poster is one funny guy.


Last weekend I put an exhaust fan in the ceiling for my wife's grandfather. While my wife's brother and I were fitting the fan in between the joists, we found something under the insulation. What we found was this:



A JC Penney catalog from 1977. It's not often blog fodder just falls in my lap, but holy hell this was two solid inches of it, right there for the taking. I thumbed through it quickly and found my next dining room set, which is apparently made by adding upholstery to old barrels:


Also, I am totally getting this for my bathroom:


There's plenty more home furnishings where those came from, however I'm not going to bore you with that. Instead, I'm going to bore you with something else. The clothes.

The clothes are fantastic.

Here's how to get your ass kicked in elementary school:


Just look at that belt. It's like a boob-job for your pants. He probably needed help just to lift it into place. The belt loops have to be three inches long. And way to pull them up to your armpits, grandpa.

Here's how to get your ass kicked in high school:


This kid looks like he's pretending to be David Soul, who is pretending to be a cop who is pretending to be a pimp that everyone knows is really an undercover cop. Who is pretending to be 15.

Here's how to get your ass kicked on the golf course:

This "all purpose jumpsuit" is, according to the description, equally appropriate for playing golf or simply relaxing around the house. Personally, I can't see wearing this unless you happen to be relaxing around your cell in D-block. Even then, the only reason you should put this thing on is because the warden made you, and as a one-piece, it's slightly more effective as a deterrent against ass-rapery.

Here's how to get your ass kicked pretty much anywhere:

If you look at that picture quickly, it looks like Mr. Bob "No-pants" Saget has his hand in the other guy's pocket. In this case, he doesn't, although you can tell just by looking at them that it's happened - or if it hasn't happened it will. Oh yes. It will. As soon as he puts down his matching coffee cup.

Here's how to get your ass kicked at the beach:

He looks like he's reaching for a gun, but you know it's probably just a bottle of suntan lotion in a holster.

How to get your ass kicked in a meeting:

If you wear this suit and don't sell used cars for a living, I believe you can be fined and face serious repercussions, up to and including termination. Or imprisonment, in which case you'd be forced to wear that orange jumpsuit.

How to get your ass kicked on every day up to and including St. Patrick's Day

Dear God in heaven, I don't believe that color exists in nature. There is NO excuse for wearing either of these ensembles unless you're working as a body guard for the Lucky Charms leprechaun.

In this next one, Your Search For VALUE Ends at Penneys.

As does your search for chest hair.

And this -- Seriously. No words.

Oh wait, it turns out that there are words after all. Those words are: What. The. Fuck. I'm guessing the snap front gives you quick access to the chest hair. The little tie must be the pull tab.

Also, judging by the sheer amount of matching his/hers outfits, I'm guessing that in 1977 it was considered pretty stylish for couples to dress alike. These couples look happy, don't they?




I am especially fond of this one, which I have entitled "Cowboy Chachi Loves You Best."


And nothing showcases your everlasting love more than the commitment of matching bathing suits. That, and a blonde girl with a look on her face that says "I love the way your junk fights against that fabric."


Then, after the lovin', you can relax in your one-piece matching terry cloth jumpsuits:


I could go on, but I'm tired, and my eyes hurt from this trip back in time. I think it's the colors. That said, I will leave you with these tasteful little numbers:


Man, that's sexy.