Things I’ve Learned This Week

** I need to start turning tricks on the corner to pay for all this end of the school year crap.

** If it looks like pink eye, it probably is.

** Injecting crazy amounts of shit into your lips makes you look like Curious George.

** Spongebob, Dora & Calillou run a very tight race as to who has THE most annoying voice ever.

** I should never send the dog flowers, unless it’s for a snack.

** The bathroom at the grocery store is all kinds of nasty.  (Just trust me on this one.)

** Whenever my daughter is skateboarding, I need to wear steal-toed shoes.

** Silly Bands are taking over the world, one rubber band at a time.

** Pop Tarts do NOT belong in your bra.

** If you have a penis, it works best to open the toilet seat lid before peeing.

** There’s a big pile of poo in the backyard.  (The poor babysitter learned this too late.)

** When you’re really really tired, you can fall asleep just about anywhere, including the waiting room of the pediatrician’s office.

** Wine corks only break off in the bottle when my husband’s out of town.

** Every clock in our house says a different time, so technically, I am always on time.

** The Blackhawks know how to kick some ass!

** Homemade Mother’s Day presents are still great, even if you don’t receive them until two months after the fact.

** I’ve got the zombie look down to a freakin’ T.

** I should’ve talked the kids into a pet rock instead of a damn dog.

** It’s gonna be a LONG-ass summer.

** Despite what I might think, God does not give me more than I can handle.



Dr. Nucking Futs

I swear I should have been a psychiatrist or some kind of therapist or something.  People are always spilling their beans to me, whether I want them to or not.  However, I don’t even know how to deal with my own shit, so it’s probably best that I don’t try and tackle other people’s shit as well.

For instance, just last week I had some woman following me around the Nordstrom shoe department telling me about what kind of shoes she prefers, as well as her bunions and arch problems.  I have no freaking clue what possessed this chick to think that I gave a damn about her nasty feet.  I tried like hell to ditch her, but every time I turned around, there she was yapping away.  And to make matters worse, she was not only a REALLY loud talker, but she was also a close talker.  I felt truly violated by the time I left the store and went right home to take a shower.

And then there was the woman at the gym last week who struck up a conversation with me about what kind of undies I wear under my workout pants.  Now, granted, her kids go to the same school as mine, but still, talking to a complete stranger about your thong can be a little awkward, to say the least.  She did at least have the common decency to introduce herself to me properly after we’d talked in great detail about our skivvies.  She felt it was just the right thing to do, since we knew so much about each other by that point.

The grocery store is another place where I should start charging people by the hour.  I can’t ever seem to get in and out of there without somebody bearing their poor, pitiful soul to me.  I cringe every time I go through the checkout line when this one particular cashier is working it.  I know WAY more about her financial woes and family drama than I even know about my own.  I don’t know what makes her think I want to hear all about her kid’s boogers when all I want to do is buy my damn bananas.

So maybe I missed my calling in life, and I was really supposed to be a Freudian mastermind or something.  Who knows.  I certainly seem to attract the cuckoos though, which is totally ironic, don’t ya think?  They clearly don’t know just how nucking futs I am.

Parking Lot Peeves

     People, can we just talk about parking lots for a minute please?  Do you find yourself getting pissy almost each and every time you drive into one?  Do you constantly feel like you’ve pulled into an overcrowded idiot convention?  Well, I sure as hell do. I swear I was ready to get all Kung Fu in the grocery store parking lot over the weekend.  If I’d had a megaphone, I would’ve rolled down my window and told every one of those lolly-gagging a-holes to move outta my damn way.  Honestly, how can you have your head up your ass and still drive a car?  Makes no sense at all. Unfortunately, it seems that the general population has forgotten all about the basic common sense rules of parking lot etiquette:

#1:  If you’re gonna insist on waiting for Grandma Moses to take her sweet time pulling out of the closest parking space to the building, then scoot your freaking car over to the side so that the mile-long line of cars behind you can get around you.  You are not the Queen of Sheeba, and nobody wants to wait on your slow ass to get that prime spot.

#2:  Park your stupid car in between the yellow lines so that I don’t have to worry about you door dinging me when I pull in next to you.  It’s not that hard, and if you can’t do it properly, then maybe you need a refresher course at the DMV.

#3:  Don’t put advertisements on my flipping windshield — whatever shit you’re selling, I’m not buying it.  

#4:  It’s soooo not cool for a non-handicapped person to park in a handicapped spot.  Do you really think the person who’s in a wheelchair’s gonna be ok with you taking his spot cause you just HAD to run into the Starbuck’s real super quick to grab your damn latte?

#5:  Driving like Danica Patrick in the Toys R’ Us parking lot is probably NOT the best idea.  Most people prefer that their offspring not look like little kid roadkill.

#6:  When you’re walking to your car with all your packages, you might not wanna walk SMACK DAB DOWN THE MIDDLE OF THE FREAKING AISLE.  Just a thought.

#7:  If you see that I’m trying to load up my car with a bunch of bags AND two small children, you might just wanna find another spot to wait on cause I’m probably gonna be a while.  You sitting there glaring at me with your turn signal on is only gonna irritate me.  And laying on your horn is most certainly NOT gonna make me speed up.  In fact, I may do the exact opposite just for meanness.

#8:  Take your damn cart back to the cart corral when you’re finished with it.  Don’t even think about leaving it in the empty parking space next to yours simply because you’re too stinkin’ lazy to walk it ten paces over to the cart corral.

#9:   If you see that someone’s backing out of a parking space, how ’bout you wait a tiny second and allow them to back out?  Zooming around them on two wheels is not gonna get you anywhere faster.  

And #10, THE GOLDEN RULE:  Do not, I repeat, DO NOT steal someone else’s parking space!

Rainy Day Rant


     Today is one of those wet, dreary days when you just wanna crawl back in bed with a good book.  Sadly, I haven’t done that for almost seven years now.  Instead, I had to make my fifteen thousandth pit stop this week at the grocery store.  And as if going to the grocery store in the rain wasn’t bad enough in and of itself, I had the misfortune of coming across two other irritating issues that bug the absolute hell out of me and make me want to succumb to online shopping forever more.

     As much as I practically live at the freaking grocery, I really think I have earned VIP parking status, and, therefore, should have a front row parking space in my Nucking Futs name.  But, because the world is full of unfairness, I had to park ridiculously far from the door and walk my ass through the pouring down rain.  As I was getting out of my car, I noticed that some lazy son of a bitch had left their shopping cart right in front of the car next to me.  I don’t know about you, but this is something that just boils my blood.  The damn cart corral was a mere 15 feet away, yet some slacker idiot couldn’t muster up the energy to walk it over there.  They decided to leave it for the wind to ram right into some poor sap’s car door. How thoughtful of them.  I decided to put on my good citizen’s hat and return it to the corral myself on the way into the store.  



     After I grabbed all the crap I needed to buy, I made my way to a checkout lane, where piss-off issue number two reared its ugly head in my direction.  The cashier asked me, “Do you want to make a contribution to breast cancer research today?” Now, mind you, I have already made a donation to breast cancer research earlier this month, so I am all about finding a cure.  However, I am sick and tired of being harassed to donate to this or that cause EVERY stinkin’ time I go to the grocery store! Every single day of every single week somebody’s trying to wrangle more money out of me.  And if you say, “No thank you, not today,” they give you the raised eyebrows with a small shake of the head as if to say, “You are a selfish bitch, lady.”  Believe you me, I have donated to plenty of causes throughout the year on my own free will.  I just personally don’t like to have it shoved in my face week after week — it’s overkill and could potentially make people bitter about giving to charitable causes.  

     As I made my way back through the downpour and got into my car, I noticed a fluffed up little bird who was hiding out under the car next to me.  I was so aggravated that I actually thought about joining him.  He seemed to have the right idea just tucking himself away from the rest of the messy, outside world.  Knowing my luck, though, the car would back up right over me and turn me into parking lot roadkill.



     Today is my half birthday.  I know — whoopty freaking do, right? Do you think I’ll be throwing a party or eating a cake or opening presents or expecting any special treatment whatsoever?  Hell to the no I won’t, because it’s a flippin’ HALF birthday!  There’s a reason why people don’t make a big deal about celebrating this very insignificant event.  However, thanks to the idiotic checkout lady at our grocery store, my daughter is now counting down the days until October 19, her half birthday.  

     Last week when I took my daughter with me to pick up a few vital items, we just so happened to choose the lane that none other than Miss Mary Motormouth was running.  I absolutely dread going through this woman’s lane because she is the queen of bullshit small talk.  I know she’s just trying to be friendly, and maybe she really does like her job, but I’ve got no time for friendly these days with my patience being ripped right away by Wrigley’s furry little mouth of razor-sharp teeth.  I’m pretty sure my face is like a flashing neon sign that says, “Don’t f@*k with me.” However, she was apparently oblivious to my scorned, worn-out facial expressions cause she immediately started in with her talk of the weather and all things stupid.  And when she noticed that I had my daughter with me, she turned up the charm factor to full speed.  

     She wanted to know how old my daughter was and somehow got on to the subject of birthdays.  She then began a whole rambling monologue about the fact that my daughter had a big half birthday coming up.  I kept trying to give her the old enlarged eyeballs/shut your damn piehole look, which, unfortunately, went straight over her completely clueless head.  She went on and on and on about how my daughter would be getting half a present, half a cake, half a birthday song, half a birthday crown, and on and freaking on.  I seriously considered opening the wine I was buying and shoving the cork in her mouth to shut her up.  She told my daughter to be sure to remind her mommy about this occasion and even sealed the promise with a high five.  I wanted to strangle this woman and claw her eyes out with every fiber of my being.  My daughter was so pumped up about the whole idea that she’s talked about it ever since.

     I hope and pray that the child doesn’t honestly expect a big to do blow-out cause it just ain’t gonna happen.  I have about as much desire to plan a party right now as I do to drive a sharp stake through my chest.  I’m actually contemplating dropping my half-birthday girl off in Lane 5 on Monday with Mary Motormouth, so she can celebrate her special day with the genius who planted this ridiculousness in her head in the first place.

Signs of Parenthood


     When you become a parent, your whole world is turned upside down. What used to be sacred no longer holds the same kind of importance. Priorities change, and your focus shifts.  You learn to pick and choose your battles and let go of things that aren’t worth getting your panties all up in a bunch.  And as much as you’d like to think you aren’t just automatically catagorized as Mommy or Daddy, there are tell-tale signs and all kinds of red flags advertising that you are in fact someone’s procreator.  

     You know you’re a parent if:

  • You’ve walked around all day completely unaware that you have dried up snot on the sleeve of your left shoulder.
  • It is perfectly normal to have a pirate eye patch on the floor of your dining room.
  • Your grocery cart is filled with things like chicken nuggets and yogurt tubes.
  • You’re blaring The High School Musical soundtrack in your car without even realizing it.
  • There is a purple slingshot sitting smack dab in the middle of your kitchen table.  
  • Sleeping in to you is anything past 7:30 a.m.
  • You get excited to run an errand as long as you get to do it alone.
  • Your purse contains broken parts to REALLY old McDonald’s toys.
  • You have Webkinz tags piled up all around your computer keyboard.
  • Rainbow Goldfish are a staple in your pantry.
  • You call a penis a peeper and a vagina a hoo-hoo.
  • Juice boxes sit proudly next to the wine and beer in your fridge.
  • Time out no longer has anything to do with sports.
  • You’re like a walking TV Guide for every kid’s channel on t.v.
  • Nobody even bats an eye to the fact that there’s a pair of pink Dora underwear lying on your coffee table.
  • Caffeine is your very best friend in the whole entire world.
  • You could put together an afternoon snack with the crumbs and food remnants in your car.
  • You’d give up a pinky finger for a good, cheap babysitter.
  • Your DVD collection has everything from Pulp Fiction to Madagascar.
  • You no longer care that your blinds are covered with dust.
  • You can get up from a meal to wipe someone’s ass and go right back to eating without even a second thought.
  • Poop is always a popular topic of conversation.
  • You’ve forgotten what silence sounds like.
  • You spend WAY more time with your washing machine than you do with your friends.
  • You’re more worried about lice than you are about crabs.
  • You could doctor a boo-boo with your eyes closed.
  • You say things like boo-boo.
  • The best part of your day is when it’s over.
  • You love your little one(s) so much that your heart hurts.