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Wednesday, December 31, 2014

Happy New Year's Eve

Hope you are all getting ready to rock 'n' roll in the new year. We sure are. French 75s and homemade moonshine are about to flow like water up in this piece.

We are starting the night by having a kiddie countdown thanks to Netflix's King Julien New Year's Countdown. It lets the new year roll in on mommy and daddy's watch, not Time Square's. Your WELCOME!

I swear they are actually having fun.

Happy New Year, Boozehounds. May your blessings be many and your hangovers few.

Tuesday, December 23, 2014

Friday, December 5, 2014

How to survive Christmas Vacation


If you’re anything like me, you are both looking forward to and dreading the upcoming time that you will have off with your family during the holidays. You’ll laugh, you’ll cry, you’ll drown yourself in copious amounts of cheap boxed wine to dull the pain. I absolutely love having the extended time off with my kids. Most of the time. After about five days, we all get a little stir crazy and start getting on each others’ nerves. 

One of the best ways for us all to calm the eff down when we get like this is to have a family movie night. I pop some popcorn, get out our comfy blankets, throw something on the TV and we all snuggle together and zone out for an our or so. 

We have a few favorites flicks to watch, so I thought I would share them to give you some inspiration for your Christmas Vacation. Most of these you can stream from Netflix.

This has to be my favorite kiddie movie ever. It has adult humor that is not vulgar, is ridiculously cute, has a great storyline and doesn’t have any scary or violent parts. My whole family loves it and we watch it all the time.

My god the cuteness of this dragon slays me—pun intended. Just a great story and a really awesome lesson on how it is cool to be different.

Love this Tim Burton flick. A total classic. I can sing all of the songs. They are actually some of my favorite Christmas tunes, I am weird, I know.

Cute. Easy to watch. Harmless in the scary department.

And when you don’t have time for a full movie but want to zone the kids out so thou can make dinner in peace, here are some of our favorites:

My kids love action heroes but most of the cartoon are hella violent. This one isn’t because it was made in the ‘70s. They mainly turn people into drone bees to do their bidding and shit. Love.

I actually love this one. A bunch of cute and funny shorts staring Mater and Lightning McQueen from Cars. My son LOVES this.

Adult humor that isn't inappropriate. The kids love it too.

So what about you? What are you family's favorite movies?

If you share this post, I will buy you a pony. I suck at Twitter. I am OK at Facebook. Pinterest is my bitch. I am also on Bloglovin' and Instagram.

Wednesday, December 3, 2014

Dear Santa, Suck it!


Dear Santa,

I think we need to talk. Your fat jolly ass is really becoming a pain in mine. In order to keep up the ruse of you existing and all, I am somewhat being held hostage to a toddler's demands. You see, whenever we enter the holy land that is Target nowadays, every awesome shiny thing up in there becomes something we should, "ask Santa for". And if I don't pony up said shiny things from "Santa" on Christmas day, my daughter's childhood will be ruined and she will be doomed to a life of working the pole. All because of you. Well, Santa, your ass owes me money. A lot of money. And I am booking a flight straight to the North Pole to collect.

You see, Santa, we both know that you are a deadbeat mythical figure, but my doe-eyed darling doesn't. She thinks that you are all magical and shit and that you can fart toy sewing machines and Lalaloopsy dolls. I, on the other hand, know that you are a just another way for our kids to milk us for even more plastic crap under the guise of "holiday spirit". I am just lucky that my kids don't know the wonder of the iPhone 6 Plus yet. Now that is some naughty shit, Santa.

Also, because you are too lazy to make an appearance more than one day a year (DIVA!), you hire alcoholic homeless men to sit in fancy chairs and act like they are you at malls all over the world. Seriously? You couldn't find a few guys with white beards who didn't smell like a mix of sewer water and Mad Dog 20/20 to play you? Every time my daughter sits on one of their laps I have to hose her off with a bath of penicillin when we are done. Gross.

And, it is so not cool that you sit at the North Pole all year, getting shitfaced with elves while I am stuck here at home doing your slave labor. Not only do you not make any lists, let alone check them twice, but you also don't shop for or pay for any of the items requested by the boys and girls on said list. But, come December 25, your overweight ass sure does shimmy down my chimney, eat all of my cookies and pop back out just so you can take all the credit.

What the fuck, Santa? I had to drive all over God's green earth and Toys "R" Us just to procure that limited edition doll house that my toddler just HAD to ask you for, and you can't even cough up the change to pay for it? But I have to say it was from you? That is some bullshit. You must have some kind of airtight union contract that allows you to sit back and reap all the benefits of gift giving while us drones at home do all the manual labor.

In closing: suck it, Santa. I want my money back. Oh yeah, and can I have a pony? I have always wanted one of those.


Smooches,


Mommy


This is an excerpt I wrote for Scary Mommy's Guide to Surviving the Holidays. It's $2.99 and makes a great gift for yourself or someone with a great sense of humor! Buy it, yo!

If you share this post, I will buy you a pony. I suck at Twitter. I am OK at Facebook. Pinterest is my bitch. I am also on Bloglovin' and Instagram.

Monday, December 1, 2014

Why I would suck at online dating


The concept of online dating has always intrigued me. I hitched my saddle to my husband’s pony before Match and eHarmony were even things, let alone Tinder and god knows whatever perverted shit there is on the market nowadays. 

Whenever I have a nightmare that my husband leaves me out of the blue, the first thing I think is, “Now I can finally try online dating!” Weird, right? I don’t even ask him why. I just accept it and get to work on creating my profile. 

Here is the raw, unfiltered truth of what dating me would be like:

Please note lack of upper lip.

User name: I like beer and boyfriends.

About me: I'm loud, annoying and always right. Even when I am wrong. I am a bleeding heart that will bring home strays (both animal and human) constantly. I love to cook. Sometimes. I like to drink. Most times. I run so I can eat what I want. I eat more than my running accounts for so there is some junk in my trunk (and frunk—can I make frunk a thing?).

Favorite Movie/Band/TV Show/Song/Color/Brand of toilet paper: Christmas Vacation, The Lumineers, Project Runway, Josh Turner Your Man, Green, Charmin

Six things I can't live without: 
Pandora, wine, running, my friends, my kids and my husband (is that weird since this is a dating site?).

What you're looking for: A woman with a take-charge attitude who can drink beer with the best of ‘em and make a lasagna like Paula Deen (minus the dash of racism). You want a girl with a wicked sense of humor who hasn’t missed a meal and doesn’t back down when confronted with a challenge. Otherwise known as a mouthy, southern bitch (minus the whole being-from-the-south thing).

Marital status: Well, I hope that if I am creating an online dating profile that it would be single. If not, I would probably search for a more specific website to cater to my swinger tendencies. I don’t want to waste my time courtin’ no better-than-though monogamists now, do I? Damn right I don’t.

Age: I stopped counting about 5 years ago. Around the same time I stopped keeping track of my weight. I think there might be a correlation…

Height and weight: Tallish. Getting wider/squishier by the minute (see age correlation above).

Body type: Is celery filled with mashed potatoes a body type? Because if so, that’s it. I have lanky limbs and a middle that resembles copious amounts of raw dough being contained in a rather unstable trash bag. Also, baby got back. Lots ‘o’ back. Sorry, I cannot lie.

Income: The question shouldn’t as much be about income but the amount of outcomes that I have. Target is a toothless slut that sings a siren song that I cannot resist. I have yet to meet a clearance end cap that I can wheel past without magnetically drawing half of the shelves’ contents into my cart.

Education: I went to college. I learned how to master the beer bong, puke and rally, find the cheapest food, tame unruly frat boys, and smoke without inhaling (cough, cough).

Occupation: Writer of words, wrangler of toddlers and maker of home. BOOM! It’s a three-fer.

Smoking/drinking/drugs: Yes, please. Except cigarettes, or crack, or Everclear, or heroin, or, hell, can I just have wine?

Children: No. I mean, I have kids that I generally tolerate pretty well most days, but I don’t want you to put any more in me and I for sure don’t want to create a whole Brady Bunch situation or anything. 

Pets: I have an obese cat who will cut you for a slice of turkey or a chocolate pudding cup. I have a rabbit, but all he really does is eat a lot and crap everywhere. I like dogs. If they aren’t annoying and don’t shed everywhere, hump legs, chew things or nudge my arm with their wet nose so I will keep petting them.

Medical issues: Hypothyroidism, acid reflux, PTSD and chronic depression. Sexy, right?

Sexual orientation: I’m a power bottom.

Likes: Wine, salt and vinegar chips, cake, picking my nose when I am alone, making sure things are lined up just the way I like them or else, seeing how long I can make it without showering, inviting people over on nights you want to just stay in and be alone.

Dislikes: Rascals Flatts, chest hair and black olives.

Who should message me: No one. I’m married you pervert!


If you share this post, I will buy you a pony. I suck at Twitter. I am OK at Facebook. Pinterest is my bitch. I am also on Bloglovin' and Instagram.
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