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I feel pressure. Mega pressure.

Because I think to myself? Self, you sure haven’t blogged alot lately. Then I think, self you need to do this thing with this blog. THEN I think ‘oh hell, haven’t in so long, what to say? There is no magic!’

But that’s not true is it? There is always magic, even if you have to like, I don’t know, scrape it off your crack or something. So what you get is crack magic but it’s still magic.

Today I think it might rain. On park day.

Park Day is when I pick up my daycare kids and go hang out with the stay at home kids. The stay at home kids have not usually spent their day eating dirt so they are cleaner. On the other hand the stay at home kids seem to respect property and where’s the fun in that?

No, this is not a ‘mommy war’ debate so don’t even start with me iwillbeatyourcrackass no magic there. I’m too inner focused (read: self obsessed) to really care what anyone else is doing.

My stay at home moms treat me just like any other mom and vice versa.

The point is that it might rain on park day.

Poor rain. Everyone hates you. This is makes you sad. Well, quit sucking and cheer up like sunshine and maybe we will start liking you again.

Universe. Get out with that.

Park day is sanity day. It’s the day I can look forward to seeing some friends and picking up the boys (picking up from daycare is really a lot of fun). It’s the day I know I can get some Vitimen D which is very important for the eyesight and the health. It’s the day that my boys can eat stay at home mom snacks and I can be all, ‘oh I’m sorry I forgot to put sugar bombs in the car. I’ll totally bring snacks next time, not really! Hey can I have some too? Thanks.’

But I guess the Universe is has other ideas. I don’t know. Maybe grass is higher up on the universe assisting list. Maybe so.

I am really trying to get back into the swing of this…. I swear.

I was going to talk about bewbs but rain seemed magicker.


Traffic skeeves me out.

I don’t know. First, it’s transportation and I hate all forms of this. Except teleportation which I trust because that is future technology. The Future is science and nanosomethings. Plus, in the future, they have a prime directivet that says: ‘don’t fuck shit up’.  So teleportation technology is always perfect. Unlike this 21st century bullshit.


Second, people are ridiculous and if you put them in a car they lose what little of their damn minds they have left. You can be all, ‘ok come over truck that looks like it might fall apart if the wind blows, please enter my lane’ and the truck will just fucking hover next to you. WTF?  ASS! GET OVER! Nothing.

Then, when you finally flip him the bird and speed up, he’ll speed up and cut you off. Because he’s traffic and traffic is a bitch.

Then semis will stall in the middle of the highway. Why aren’t there separate semi highways already?

I can completely understand why people go Barry every day.

Eej therapy

You know what else? I go through all this just to get to work and listen to lung cancer over there try to work out sharing bronchial real estate with tar balls. He’s so traffic.

But not you, lovers.

You are teleportation to me.

Wow, yesterday some freaky shit went down on this blog. The behind the scenes part. First, we had the whole lobster invasion and then even weirder shit started happening when lots of topmommybitchesbloggers started stopping by and probably crying into their breast pumps. I don’t know. They didn’t leave a comment. So I was all, “I better check this out right?” and myself was all, “Yeah get on it!”.  When myself agrees with myself something is up.

I guess topmommyblogs reset its numbers and so I WAS #11 ON THE HUMOR AND FUNNY BLOGLIST! What? I know! (they actually say: humor and funny. Redundant.) It won’t last because I don’t have such hilarious topics as :Faith, Family and Infertility. Or a title like The Leaky Boob. Who can resist that?

I should have seen it all coming. The Universe tried to warn me by giving me conflicting signs.

Pretty much.

See, first: I saw 3 Hummers. As a symbol they are pretty obvious. Greed. Destruction. Stupidity. Blowjobs. I saw one dark blue, one gray and one kind of green. That’s not too horrible. Yellow is completely unacceptable. I see a yellow hummer and I know the universe is communicating that I need to just go home and watch the Spanish channel.

The thing about Hummers is that they are tanks. For the road. What kind of nonsense is that? It messes with the reasonable side of the Universe and Universe is like, ‘I need to fix this shit.’ So what does the Universe do? The Universe in all its wisdom sticks douches into Hummers. That evens things out. Anyone else sitting in a Hummer would look scared and white knuckled because Fuck! It’s a road tank! Just driving down the road!  AAAAHHHH. But Hummer douches are at complete ease. You may want to hate that greasy hummer douche but you shouldn’t. He’s probably saving your life by being douchey enough not to freak out about his road tank.

Overall though, Hummers are a bad bad sign. Avoid them. I know it’s hard because the second Diddy (side note: originally I had it as P. Diddy but wikipedia told me he dropped the P – thanks wikipedia I would have looked really stupid not knowing what ridiculous name rapper Sean Combs had chosen for himself this week!) gets something everyone and their douche dog has to find a way to have it –

Which reminds me – I need an iPad.


Pshew! Pshew! Take that Hummers! The glorifying wrath of my riffs and pleather - pshew! pshew!

Oh, right. Then I heard some good 80s rock. Music is an excellent way to feel out the universe. It’s like it’s speaking directly to you. I heard Livin on a Prayer. Universe was all, “Hey, it’s ok that Hummers exist in this world and in your face. Cause you know what? There’s also hot young people making love in their parents basement and they drive Camaros.” (incidentally, if I see a camero of any color it = bad ass day.)  Then I heard Child of Mine and that’s the Universe saying, “Sweet child, it’s going to be ok.”

Taken together it means the Universe was trying to warn me of the weirdness/to take me down and kick me in the nuts/to not even bother with me and those signs were meant for someone else, someone more important. Like #1 Top Humor and Funny Mommy.

Sometimes, I think the universe is trying to communicate with me.  Signs and all that, or like, ok  this one time?  When we lived in that little house on 16th the phone rang and I was all, ‘ugh phone why are you on me with the ringing?’ because I don’t like answering phones.  But this day I felt compelled to pick it up.  I did and immediately this crazy bitch starts freaking out on me with this real urgent sounding message…in Chinese.

I know!  Madness.  So I was like, ‘umm, sorry wrong number’ but she wouldn’t calm down and I just hung up.  This happened two more times over the week.  Each time I was the one that answered the phone, even when Danny was home, and people, I do not answer phones.  If you’ve ever tried to call me you know this.  The only rational conclusion was that the universe was trying to tell me something urgent.  Only the universe?  Speaks fucking Chinese!

Needless to say, I did not get that message.  Hopefully it wasn’t that big a deal and I really hope Universe doesn’t expect me to do something like save the world or recruit a super cool mutant to go bust my girlfriend out of an secret government facility.

And now I think Universe is trying to send me another message and this one I do. not. like.  First, we have the great yoga ball bail out.  Then, on my commute home I see this.

Truck nutz.  With a z.  A “z”, that makes it even worse.

No, I’m not going to include a picture.  Because, uh. Offensive.

I’m not a prude or anything but…  It offends my sensibilities.  It does.  And it’s not like I can look away, or change the channel or put the book down.  I can drive into oncoming traffic but short of that?  What?

Here’s my list of why I hate them:

  1. They are just gross.  They are vieny and wrinkly and old manish.  If I had a testicle mold i would make sure it was like the superman of balls – not some true to life dangly mess.
  2. My english major brain can’t wrap my mind around them.  What am I supposed to think of these nutz?  Is it literal?  Like I’m to assume that along with its nuts your truck has some kind of a heart and functioning kidneys?  Why?  I tend to think this cause the nuts are so real looking…  Or maybe a metaphor – for how much of a bad ass you and/or your truck is?  This makes sense I suppose, especially for the tendency to associate balls with brawn or something.  Or maybe it’s just some kind of analogy?  I don’t know!!
  3. It makes me wonder about the Truck Nutz counterpart.  Can you imagine trucks driving around with Truck Labiaz?  I don’t want to have to wonder about this!
  4. Look, you’re driving a giant, unnecessary truck.  So, I already know you’re a dick; there’s no need to add a set of silver testes to it.  That’s just redundant.

Why am I seeing all these things?  What is it Universe?  Why me?

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