Relish in the Stupidity of Others

http://www.textsfromlastnight.com/

Hours of entertainment at the expense of others. My favorite!

I Heart Pennsylvania

Just when I think that government offices are devoid of all technology (have you ever seen the inside of city hall? It’s like stepping into the 70’s…) I uncover something like this. http://www.readynotifypa.org/  Basically you build a profile of where you live and work (or whatever) and then indicate what you want to receive notices about (road closings, amber alerts, severe weather, SWINE FLU (hello!)) and they either text you or email you.  Simple. Useful. How elegant!

 

People, this is further evidence that Pennsylvania is superior when compared to the near bankrupt state of New Jersey (yes yes, glass houses, rocks, I know).  However, Gloucester County, NJ is also included. Probably because we’re nice like that.

Wanna Know if Your Neighbor has Swine Flu?

http://lifehacker.com/5229560/google-maps-mashup-tracks-swine-flu

I love quizes

I love a good online quiz....

I think some of these guys have worked in our IT department. http://www.malevole.com/mv/misc/killerquiz

I got a 6 out of 10 - how did you do?

Butt Floss for the Elitist

What in the hell is this?   I have questions. Please feel free to answer them.

• Do you wear it or put it on your wall? 
• Does that text wrap all the way around to your ass crack or is that a quote on the packaging?
  
• Is Quaker guy, John Greenleaf Whittier, rolling over in his grave? 
• Do you think he knew back in the 1890's that his poetry would some day be featured on someone's hoo ha?
  
• Who pays $13 for a white cotton thong?
  
• Why does it only come in size 0-4? Are larger women not allowed to wear Quaker poet butt floss?

Please help.

Or alternately, if you should decide you want to own this item - here is the link on Amazon.

Things you don't need to know...

Standing next to Fred while the lunch lady was ringing up his purchases…

Her: You looked up my husband on the internet?

Fred: Uh..

Her: You didn’t tell me that. You were looking at his mug shot.

Her (to me): He looked my husband up on the Internet.

Me: Well, I guess as long as it wasn’t the sex offender website then it’s ok…

Some days I wonder about these people ….

Hee Hee...

I love watching old legislators use the word "sexting". Fun to use as a verb - "Teenagers who are sexting are being charged as sex offenders".

That makes me giggle inside.

Au Revoir Good Pregnancy Joo Joo….

Well, it’s official. I am no longer pregnant. Yes, I realize that on January 8^th when a child came out of me I was technically “no longer pregnant", but in the weeks following the actual birth it seemed all the good pregnancy joo joo was still lingering. I know I bitched and moaned about being pregnant but the fact is there were some pleasant side effects. The whole hair thing was at the top of the list (maybe that was even the entire list…I can’t be sure because the pregnancy brain is still lingering which means I can’t think properly).

Anyway the point is, my hair was the thickest its been since I was 10 years old. See before I got pregnant, me and the maintenance guy Mike were on a first name basis. He or one of his guys would come on over to our apartment on a monthly basis to pull the giant wookie out of the drain. My husband repeatedly apologized for this and even offered to do it for him. Mike’s guy Tom says the wookie keeps him employed, so from that point forward we would dutifully call him without apology. Then one day I found myself in the family way and miraculously the wookie decided to stay in my head. So for the last 12 months we haven’t seen Mike (with the exception of the washer/dryer incident which isn’t worth talking about).

The wookie was thick and shiny and easy to style. I enjoyed drying my hair. I could even let it air dry and it didn’t look like hell. It was awesome and I hoped against all hope that this was a new and permanent condition. I knew better….but a girl can dream can’t she?

So, two days ago I was in the shower happily washing my hair when I pulled my hands away to find the wookie was back. I was sad as I watched half my hair gracefully swirl down the drain. Au revoir wookie…it’s been a good run. Tell Mike & Tom I said hello….

Turn down your inner monologue please...

Here’s the situation. You’re walking down the street and your inner monologue is going in your head.

Hey buddy, 1972 called and they want their facial hair back.

Dear lord, someone needs to go shopping for a new pair of jeans. Didn’t it hurt when you stuffed yourself into those?

Does that person not own a mirror?

Put down the aqua net lady, your hair is scaring me.

Nice skirt, don’t your ass cheeks get cold hanging out like that?

Back away from the spray tan before I start to sing the ompa loompa song....

I can’t stop it. I know that when I see the tragic humanity outside my front door I can’t help but stare…and then smirk or perhaps raise my eye brows. I wear sunglasses a lot for this reason. It’s amazing I don’t get my ass kicked. Anyway, I used to wonder about a certain category of women. You look at them and think – “They could be totally good looking if they just lost a few pounds and cleaned themselves up.” You ‘ve seen them - they wander around in pants that are too small for them, visible panty lines, hair looking like hell…you know who I’m talking about. I would see them and think to myself – why on earth would you set foot out of the house looking like that?

Well people, I now know who those women are. Their pants are too small because they aren’t willing to buy new pants because the old pants will fit eventually. The maternity pants don’t stay up and were pretty frickin ugly to start with. And the underwear..well you wouldn’t see that panty line if the damn pants weren’t so small. The hair – well that’s an unholy mess because they didn't have time to style it, dry it or sometimes to wash it. Yes, those sad looking individuals that are badly dressed and don’t care are the species we all know as working mothers.

So, when you see me roll into the office in pants that are shamefully too small with my hair pulled back you should shut your mouth and turn off your inner monologue.

Screw the Cow, I'll just buy the Milk...

My mother used to tell me when I was a kid that no one buys the cow when they can get the milk for free. While it's a nice sentiment (and certainly makes guilty Catholics everywhere feel good about that whole abstinence business) my husband disproved that one when he married me.

I would now like to modify that statement. "I would rather buy the milk as long as I don't have to be the cow." Let me explain....

I recently returned to work and I now have a serious love hate relationship with a breast pump. For a total of 40 minutes a day I am exposed and hooked up to what amounts to a fancy vacuum. I have purchased a pumping bra that my husband believes is some sort of S&M paraphernalia. It's a messy business..blockading the office door, pulling the blinds, whipping out the girls, strapping yourself in, WOOSH WOOSH WOOSH. I just know that everyone can hear this wooshing from 6 offices away.

All the while reading articles like this and this. Yet I continue to put my little containers in the office fridge and redress myself twice a day. Here's why, and my work husband can mock all he wants with comments about about organic food and ergo strollers... I can't be sure that this whole breast milk thing isn't important, so I'll do it just in case.

So as I sit there thinking how undignified it is to be hooked up to a Hoover, I read something like this and I think about how bad I would feel if someday my poor kid has nasty dermatitis all over her just because my selfish ass didn't want to be Bessie the Milk Cow.

Well, even Bessie has her limits. There are only so many times a day you can get naked in your office and still reasonably conduct business. That said, our little friend gets one bottle of formula a day. It's one out of roughly 6-7 feedings. So by my calculations I'm only a good mother 83-86% of the time. I think I can live with those numbers.