Cupcakes Anonymous

Last night bff and I attempted a flip flop cake...

Then we did a few cupcakes...like this...

Then, because I'm a sick human being...I made one like this...

You should know I enjoyed every bit of it.

Rage

How come women can find things and men can't?

How come my man doesn't even know what's in his own house? He will call me and ask me where something is in HIS house!

How come if I tell him EXACTLY where his mystery item is, he still can't see it?!

Man: Where's the soda? You said you had soda for me?

Me: It's on the top shelf, baby, next to the juice.

Man: No, it's not. You don't have soda.

Me: I bought it for you. It's a new bottle. It's big and says "Diet Pepsi" on it and it's next to the juice.

Man: I don't see it.

Me: It's THERE!

Man: ...nope.

...I reluctantly get up and look myself...

...and do you know what?

IT'S RIGHT FUCKING THERE ON THE TOP FUCKING SHELF NEXT TO THE MOTHER FUCKING JUICE

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGG!!!!!!!!KILL!!!!!!YOU!!!!!!!DIE!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I love him, lots.

The Zoo

My man has anger issues sometimes. He escalates into an infuriated state - I blame the animals. It's like zero-to-angry in mere seconds. He has dogs (plural) and cats (also plural) that drive him insane. He is a loving person with a big heart...takes in strays - how else would he wind up with a gem such as myself?

Usually it's like...
"Hey baby, the dog with the crooked penis just pissed on his paw and then hit me in the face with that very same paw.
Then the cat threw up on my bed.
Then the other dog peed all over the house and I stepped in it after I got out of the shower I needed from the pee-paw/face incident.
Now the other cat shit on my kitchen table.
Then the remaining dog barked and woke me up after I didn't sleep all night and then the remaining cat decided to sneeze in my face!
I HATE THIS HOUSE AND THESE FUCKING ANIMALS I CAN'T LIVE LIKE THIS I HOPE THEY ALL DIE!!!!!!!!!!ASSHOLES!!! FUCKERS!!!!!!
FUCK!!!!!"

He also sends me pictures of poop and whatnot. I will spare you...

But I will share this! Cuz it's cool.

Summer friend purchased this little critter for her daughter a few weeks ago. This is post ferrets...

Hedge hog. He's cute, but spikey, like a porcupine. I find it difficult to hold and cuddle him when he hurts me. And poops like a champ.

This morning I saw some terrorist looking men on the lower level of my building...huddled around lots of paper work. Is it mean that I say that? I'm not a liberal so I can stereotype at will, right?

Anywho...I realized downstairs is the Visa office. I feel safe again. I don't believe they will ever blow up the building that gives out the Visas...that's just not logical. Terrorists are nothing if not logical.

Hot Stuff Baby this Evening...

Well, I decided this morning that my man will get some tonight. I prepped the area...

If he only knew decisions regarding his sexual fate were made in the wee hours of the morning...

...so it's been predetermined, unless he does something to anger me before then.

The girl started camp. She loves it, which makes me happy. FYI the cost of such happiness is a mere $1,000 a month...that's not pesos.

I still haven't seen the new Twilight. What kind of fan am I? I'm waiting for the availability of two friends to align with mine...so...perhaps I'll see it when it comes out on DVD next year.

I read The Pact, by Jodi Picoult. She is one disturbed human being. Hmmm...I think I'll write about child molestation and suicide today in great detail. Yes, then afterwards I'll do the dishes and have a nice cup of tea. Sick bitch. I forced myself to finish it hoping for a decent ending and I was severely disappointed.

It's Birthday time...the man, TexAss, work friend, summer friend, summer friend's sister's son - say that 3x fast. I like gift shopping for little people, they are easy. Gift shopping for big people - I'd rather wax off my eyebrows before my wedding day.

I worry that they won't like their gifts. What's the point in giving a gift if they hate it? The man is hard to buy for because he's all, "Don't spend money on me!" Right. I suppose he means, "Don't spend the money I give you on a gift for me." Makes sense in theory...whatever.

Post July 4th

Independance day always brings me back...

My dad used to sell fireworks out of his trunk and our garage. Whatever was leftover he'd set off in the neighborhood. We never had to go anywhere to see them, the show was always in front of our house.

Actually, scratch that, he didn't set them off himself. He used to give them to asshole kids on the block for them to set them off. I guess he didn't want to get burned, thought it better for kids to...good man.

My dad was always obsessed with making money "off the books." He always had side jobs, fixing cars, selling pot, creating a little store in our garage filled with things that "fell off the back of a truck."

Come Christmas, people would shop in our basement for Yankee Candles, Nine West Leather Jackets, Baby Phat sweat suits...yeah...even those.

I thought nothing of this.

He was also Mr. Fix It...you know, jack of all trades, master of none. Whatever he "fixed" would be broken again in no time at all. We once had a hole in our ceiling for a year. Tile that was missing in the kitchen...a toilet that had to be "flushed a certain way" - OR ELSE.

Termites ate through our floor once and he tried to fill in the gaps with CAULK.

His whole deal was he went to Aviation High school...he wanted to be a pilot, or work on planes, or whatever. When he got out of high school, everyone came back from the war and took all the "air plane jobs" WAH WAH WAH ...so he settled for being a mechanic.

He was good at that, but for some reason my mom's car always ran like shit. So we'd be all on the side of the road, stuck, with mom crying in hysterics trying to pull someone over to help us...and my sister and I, catching crickets in the grass. After a while I learned how to add water (poor man's antifreeze) to the car so we could be on our merry way.

These are the sweet memories I've been blessed with.