Preposperous Potty

My mother snapped this photo in an office building bathroom in Dallas yesterday.

In case you can't read that sign above the toilet, here's a closer look:

Yes, there's a weight limit on the toilet!

Have you ever seen this before?

Wonder how they enforce it?!

(hidden cameras? scale in the floor with alarms attached?)

We're re-naming my dad, Lord of the Flies

My dad is in an epic battle with his utility company...although they don't know it.

He's determined to get his electric bill down to the lowest possible amount.

Last week, he achieved his lowest bill yet...$26 for one month!

How does he manage to get his bill so low?

He turns the air off.

Completely off.

And leaves his sliding glass door to the apartment balcony open...

which in turn led to a swarm of flies taking up residence in his apartment.

They even trickled out into the hall...a large enough amount of them that apparently the neighbors feared he was dead!!

One neighbor burst down the door to check on my dad...only to find my dad merrily watching TV in the nude...with a bevy of flies filling the room.

I don't know who was shocked more...but I do know, my dad's new name is Lord of the Flies.

We went the very next day to buy a fly swatter for him. 

The Y2K Bug attacked the frigerator & either it or the dog gave my son strep throat.

I stayed up New Year's Eve playing Monopoly with my boys.

And then the refrigerator stopped working.

It started with the ice...and then the water...and then the cooling...

I thought I broke it, but it turns out it had something to do with the motherboard.

It seems like an off coincidence that it broke right at the new year.

So, I think the Y2K bug of 2010 got it.

It couldn't handle 2010.

And the first day of the new year, my older son came down with strep throat.

Only we just thought it was a sinus infection.

Boy were we wrong.

We had a doctor tell us once that dogs can give you strep throat.

That they are carriers.

So I GOOGLED it ( I google everything!)

and found out that's quite a controversial topic in the medical community.

Maybe the refrigerator gave it's Y2K 2010 bug to my son.

and now it's stalking me...

How did YOUR New Year begin?!

P.S. OMG, do NOT Google Images "Strep Throat."  It's disgusting.

and apparently some people can get it on their feet?!!

Holding Santa Hostage

I have a brilliant idea for a Christmas card.

It would have a photo of my boys holding Santa at Nerf gunpoint...

and the inside of the card would spell out a "Merry Christmas"  hostage message in cut out letters...

and somehow, I'd have to include aliens. 
Or blame it on aliens. 
Or prove Santa was an alien.

Cause that's how I roll.

The Cow Mattress

Did you know that there is a product out there called a "cow matress?"

It's a padded mattress for cattle, specifically dairy cows, to rest on.

It puts less stress on their joints when they get up and down.

Apparently, happy cows make happy milk.

So, I'm torn...do I want organic, grass-fed cow milk?

Or comfy, happy cow milk?

And what's next?

Hamocks for our chickens so they're more relaxed and we have better eggs?

Or maybe pedicures for our pigs, so they produce better pepperoni?

I actually think this was an awesome invention, and I wish I'd thought of it first!!

Money on my Mind

I was stuck in traffic this morning and letting my mind brainstorm...

what do we all see every day that has not been inundated with advertising yet?



MONEY!



It would be kind of cool to advertise on money.

The government could make money...ON money.

I've written a post on foreclosure scams & credit restoration

&

I also wrote a post on Avery Island,
a unique island in Louisiana that's a salt dome and home of Tabasco Sauce.

Egg Heads taking on Reindeer

The Easter Bunny needs to fire whoever currently does his PR,
because Santa Claus totally has him beat out.

Easter has the potential to be as big as Christmas, honestly.


Which sounds more appealing to you,
a jolly fat man in a red suit who sneaks in your house and eats your cookies?
Or a big furry bunny that poops eggs with surprises in them around your yard?



I think part of the secret lies in the music.
Christmas has a ton of great songs ties to it.
So, we need to come up with a bunch of Easter Songs.

How about:

We Wish you a Happy Easter (to the tune of We Wish you a Merry Christmas)

Randolph the Red-Spotted Rabbit (to the tune of Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer)



Santa's got sidekicks too. Elves, reindeer, etc.
So, our Easter Bunny needs sidekicks.

How about Egg Heads?
Little walking/talking eggs with faces, hands and feet, all brightly colored?

And, Easter needs to ditch the pastels.
If it wants to compete with Christmas, it needs bold, jewel-tones.

And I'd love to see those Egg Heads take on the Reindeer.

Any suggestions on how Easter could compete with Christmas?

I've finally one-upped Mary Poppins

The origins of this post started two nights ago, when I woke in the middle of the night with an intense leg cramp.

It HURT.

I hadn't had one in years!!

I find when I'm good about taking vitamins and getting plenty of potassium and fruits, that I don't have leg cramps at all.

Then I remembered my grandmother a sweet lady who-shall-not-be-named, mentioned that older folks suffer leg cramps. And she discovered, through the elderly grape vine, that if you put a bar of soap under your sheets, that they go away. She tried it, and it worked. Now she sleeps with soap in her sheets.

huh.

Then, on the NPR the other day, I heard them talking about leg cramps.
And how a teaspoon of mustard every day keep the leg cramps away.

huh.

A lady called into the show and said it worked for her. She had taken to eating everything in mustard lately. Lots and lots of mustard.

Then I thought...well, shoot, maybe I should try these two things.
But, then, I don't get the leg cramps enough to really tell if it was working or not...

Who knows what else mustard could do if we added it to our diets regularly?
Maybe it could increase night vision in our troops.
I'm sending a few hundred jars to experiment.
I'm sure they won't mind.





Then I found on Wiki that mustard plasters are used in Russia where they think it stimulates the immune system and relieves pain.

Maybe mustard in my hair every night would make it silky smooth with no tangles?
I might try it.

Maybe mustard applied in our nether regions could help people who have trouble getting pregnant, conceive! Think of the thousands they could save in fertility testings and treatment if only they had a jar of mustard?!

Who knows what I could discover!!

But maybe A teaspoon of mustard would help the medicine go down?
In the most delightful way.





What do you think?
How can mustard help you?
Any fun home remedies to share?




***I am not a doctor and should not give out medical advice. Please do not try any of these ideas at home. Ignore me completely, I am a cracked lunatic with no medical training whatsoever.

How is a uterus hazardous to small children?

Cajun Mama had a tweet over the weekend that mentioned a uterus recall.

I was baffled.
I was intrigued.

I followed her link and found this:

I'm now in love with this company called I Heart Guts.



It's brilliant!
It's hilarious!




Where else can you find t-shirts that say this?

or t-shirts that say this?

That says, "Black Lung" in case you can't read it well.




And then they have plushies.




I've got beat...


heart beat, that is.

And a timeless classic: A heart of gold.

Way too cool.
I wish they'd send me some of their products, you know, so I could review them.

I'm in love.

What organ would you like to see made into a t-shirt or plush?

Wait, maybe you shouldn't answer that...

Pill Popping Lament

I take pills.

What kind?
ha!
Wouldn't you like to know.

I use them to handle generalized anxiety and depression.

I don't like taking medicine, as a rule,
because who wants to be dependent on chemicals that do stuff to you?
But apparently my normal-state-of-being needs some alteration.
Which sucks.

A few days ago, I accidentally took one of my pills very late in the day.

Big mistake.
I felt horrible.

I got emotional.
I got dizzy.
My heart felt like it wanted to grow wings and escape my body.

It was not fun.
I think that qualifies as an addiction.

In my emotional state, I start emailing...
my sisters, my mom, my friend Kat,
with all these Debbie Downer emails.

Emails that lament about my life.
I can be quite a drama queen.

Then later I'm embarrassed and ashamed I sent those emails.
and aware that I complain about the same things over and over.





After a while people get sick of you complaining about the same stuff over and over.
Do something about it, you know?
But that's often easier said than done.
I don't want to be a whiner, a complainer, someone who doesn't change or take charge.

It's time for change.
I have a job interview today.
Wish me luck.
It's time for certain doors to close and others to open.
Yes, I'm back to my door metaphor.

I wanted to buy this door the other day at our local Trade Days,
to put on my wall.



However, it was $275, and I just couldn't justify spending that.



Anyway, just a snippet of my addiction.



Rinse, lather, repeat.



Do I make sense?
Do I bore you?
Do I fascinate you?
Do I entertain?

The Signs of Holiday Madness

A couple of weeks ago I was heading into a grocery store with some female family members, and the Salvation Army guy who was ringing the bell out front said, "Hey, Ladies, you wanna ring my bell?" in a very suggestive manner.

My mouth dropped open.

My boys love the cute, lighted, wire sculpture reindeer at our neighborhood entrances. One morning, at the crack of dawn, I saw those cute little reindeer posed in a compromising position.

I burst out laughing.

Everywhere I go, every store, has holiday music playing. And before I even realize what I'm hearing...I find myself singing along, in my head. And it's darn addictive. AND, I notice other people singing OUTLOUD. And wiggling or dancing. It's infectious.

I can't help but smile.

And the craziest part of all? I imagine myself baking all kinds of holiday goodies to wrap and give to people. I have visions so strongly that I can smell the cookies, taste the chocolate turtles in my mouth...and then I realize I'll be lucky if I can make one batch of holiday cookies, much less bake enough that look good and are edible to give to people!!

My mouth waters.

What holiday craziness have you seen out and about? Good or bad.

I've seen cars decorated with Rudolph noses and antlers.
I've seen blow-up Santas on motorcycles.

Do you have decorations in your yard or on your house?
I haven't put up our lights yet. We're fairly low key on decorations but we like to do something.

I see some houses with no decorations at all, and I wonder why.
I see some houses with decorations out the wazoo, all chaotic and crazy, and I wonder why.

Gotta love a little holiday madness.
As long as it's harmless.

Nursery Rhyme Gone Bad

I think this will be the post where I lose all my readers.

Do not read any further if you have a squeamish stomach and/or are currently eating...
or plan to eat ever again.

You've been warned.

I know someone's dirty little secret...and I'm gonna share it.
Whether you like it or not.

Who's secret?

Could be a family member, or a friend...
or quite frankly, a friend of a friend...
You'll never know for sure.
It could be ME for all you know.
(it's not)

I know someone, let's call him or her The Butcher.
Oh, why this nickname, you ask?
I'll tell you why.
Come closer so I can whisper...

Because
this person
after
having
a bowel
movement
then
proceeds
to
cut
up
their
poop
in the
toilet
bowl
with
a
knife


Don't ask me how I know this.
Only know that I wish I didn't KNOW this.

Rub a dub dub, Three men in a tub, And who do you think they be? The butcher, the baker, The candlestick maker. Turn them out, knaves all three!

Are we still friends?
Do you know any dirty little secrets?

A Conversation like No Other

Remember how I was convinced that our impromptu visit to the corn fields resulted in my children's bodies being taken over by Aliens?

Well, this story isn't like that.
It's much weirder.

As I was driving around today, looking for my missing She-Ra Brain,
I was blinded by a bright pink light on a back-country road near some railroad tracks.

Thinking this suspicious phenomenon had to be related to my She-Ra Brain,
I immediately pulled over to check it out.

That's Annie with me. She loves going for rides.

I bet her brain has never popped out all Athena-like
and turned into an '80s cartoon character.

Anyone want to take that bet? No?


Anyway, I was a woman on a mission, so I set off down these railroad tracks.

And pretty soon, I came upon this scene,
which practically caused me to pee in my pants.

I'm glad I left Annie in the car.

The Unicorn was about to tear the Griffin's wings off, when I stepped in.

"Big, mythical creatures, why are you fighting?"

The Griffin said, "Because I thought McCain did the best in the debate tonight."

The Unicorn snorted, "Hell no, Obama kicked butt!"

They glared at each other.

"Dudes, don't fight over politicians!" I shouted. "They're so not worth it!"

"Oh, really, then how do you expect to solve all our country's problems?" the Griffin asked.

Huh. That's a good question, I thought. Without my She-Ra brain, I wasn't sure.
I was going to have to BS the best I could to get out of this one.

"I know, let's vote Pioneer Woman to be our new president!" I said. "She'll cook the best meals for the whole country and take awesome photos of calf nuts for the whole world to see! Calf nuts bring about world peace, you know."

"If we're voting for bloggers, then I choose Black Hockey Jesus," said the Griffin, shooting fire out of it's nose. "He talks to dead people."

"I heard OHMommy was going to put her vote on the candidate who sat best on a stool," said the Unicorn thoughtfully. "Anyone who can coordinate her three children's clothing while traveling through Poland is mighty impressive."

"OH, my good friend Kat would be a great leader! She could whip this country into shape in no time and she'd put free peanut M&M dispensers on every street corner!"

"And, who are YOU again?" asked the Unicorn.

Well, I'm not big like those bloggers, but I'm Rhea, from Texas Word Tangle. Look, here are the new business cards that Darcy made for me."

And with that, the Griffin and the Unicorn wandered off,
my new business cards tucked in their pockets.

Aren't they awesome?

I want to go up in a hot air balloon and toss them into the sky!

Let Texas Word Tangle rain down on everyone!!

And, yes, I've lost it.

Until I find my She-Ra Brain again, you're stuck with weird posts like this.

This is the closest to a political post I'm gonna get.

I'm in love with my new cards. Do you have something new you like?
Did you watch the debates?
Have you seen any mythical creatures lately or my She-Ra Brain?

Disagreeable Familiarity

Have you ever had deja vu? It's weird, isn't it? I think those are moments where we're doing something we've done before, but our memories forgot but our brain remembers. Hence the disorientation yet familiarity of the moment. Or it's just a brain fart. An electrical misfire.

I have a memory from my childhood where I found a package of razors (not knowing what they were) and was playing with them, which caused me to cut up my fingers. Did this really happen? Did I dream it? I have many moments like this...

I'm not the only one, right?

Then there are the memories that I confuse with my little sister. Some things she thought were hers, I thought were mine. We can't both be wrong...right?

The kids make fun of my lists. I have to make lists to remember everything.

My theory is that so much of my brain is devoted to the children that it leaves little leftover for other things. Right. Sounds good. That's my story and I'm stickin' to it.

I asked Remy what he thought brains looked like. He answered, "Big pink things."

I agree, Remy, I agree.




My Brain wriggled at this point (which kind of tickled), shaking awake, and decided to speak up, "No, we are only big and pink sometimes. We can also take on other forms."

Then she proceeded to jump out of my head all Athena-style and turn into She-Ra, the Princess of Power.




For some reason, this didn't phase me at all. I guess because it's my brain, and I know what its capable of.

After she used duck tape to fix the hole in my head, my She-Ra shaped brain got very bossy.

She-Ra Brain: I like the Sudoku puzzles you feed us but all these smutty books are too much junk! We need to read some real Literature, more Latin, or textbooks on Chemistry. When are you going to finish your college degree?

Me: (defensively) Hey, I've completed 90 hours of coursework and made the Dean's List, don't lecture me on education.

She-Ra Brain: You spend way too much time withdrawn inside your head.

Me: Excuse me? So what if I do.

She-Ra Brain: You need to get out more and make friends. Spend more time DOING things rather than thinking about things.

Me: (thinking flattery will get my somewhere) But, with a kick ass brain like you, why would I want to get out more?

She-Ra Brain: More brain food would be nice too. You know, like veggies and stuff. Don't argue with me. Don't make me go all Princess of Power on you.

Yes, my brain just threatened me. I thought I could sink no lower.

Wait, I'm arguing with myself, aren't I? Is this pointless? Am I losing my mind?

Hey, Brain, do you have any pull in the hair department? I could use a little help there. Less frizz would be nice. Hey, Brain, where're ya goin'?

Anyone know how to put my She-Ra Brain back inside? I think she just took off on her flying horse...

What form does YOUR brain take? Does it have any complaints?

Unexpected Visitors

My eyes still feel heavy with sleep as I stand with bare, warm bed-feet on the hard, cold tile in my kitchen. I have before me a loaf of whole wheat bread and various fixings for sandwiches. Texas Homeboy's been up since 4am, but I can't get up before 6am, it just isn't humanly possible. One child, Donny, my 11 yr old, is awake and in the shower while the younger one, Remy, who's 6, still sleeps.

Come on brain, start moving. Let's see, Donny likes lettuce on his turkey sandwich, Remy only wants meat and mayo. Donny gets grapes in his lunchbox but Remy prefers strawberry applesauce. My hands automatically go through the motions of cutting halves and stuffing things in Ziploc bags, but I have to think harder to make sure I get the right stuff into the right lunchbox. I've made that mistake before.

The dog won't go outside for her morning pee because it's raining. She doesn't like to get wet. But she loves to swim. Explain this to me?! It's gonna be a long day for Annie if she keeps holding it in.

I hear Donny get out of the shower, and Texas Homeboy leaves for his long commute to Big D. I finish up the lunchboxes and hear my father getting into his shower when the doorbell rings. It's not even 7am, people. This is weird. It could be my dad's ride, showing up early, I guess.

But, to my surprise, I find three strange figures at the door. I open the door slowly and stare.

"We're the Hormone Brothers," one says loudly, seemingly complaining I don't recognize them.

I don't.

One is tall and geeky looking, it's face covered in acne, shyly hiding behind the other two.

The one who complained is dressed in loud colors and sports a dramatic hairstyle. It pouts and swings it's arms wildly when it talks.

The third worries me the most. It's dressed all in black and seems brooding and quiet...menacing almost.

"Please go away," I say. "I'm not ready for you yet."

The brooding one says, "You won't have a choice."
The dramatic one adds, "You NEED to get ready."
The geeky one mumbles, "Please, if you don't mind, we'll be back."

And they turn as a group and saunter off, the dramtic one leading the way, the brooding one flips me off.

I gasp in horror and quickly shut and lock the door.

"Mama, who was that?" I hear Donny ask from the den.

He's watching The Simpsons while he eats breakfast. He reminds me that he will take the bus home today, and he wants to go to the bookstore after school to get the next book in the series he is reading. I walk over and ruffle his hair. My eyes tear up. He's still my Donny but for how long? I know the hormone brothers will return. I need a plan how to deal with them. I need plans, more plans, and backup plans. Preparation. They've introduced themselves and surprised me, but next time I will be ready.

The Nut House

I'm not sure where to begin.

My house is crazy.

Let's set the scene. I'm making dinner in the kitchen.

My elderly father, who lives with us, comes squeaking in with his rollator
to fix himself a drink...a special concoction of ice cream and Crystal Lite.

Did I mention he's diabetic?

He's gotten very spiritual in his old age
and if you're not careful, he'll corner you and go on and on about the newest guru he's reading.
Regular religion is not enough for him.
He's enjoys doom & gloom, conspiracy theories and esoteric avatars to follow.

His shirt is stained with Crystal Lite, but he can't see it, because he's practically blind.

I point out that his shirt is dirty, and this is what he tells me,
"It's a new design. It's the Father, Son & the Holy Spirit."

And then he precedes to laugh, until the point of choking, at his own "joke."

I tell him it's a good thing he finds himself entertaining.


He heads back to his room, chuckling, where his TV is louder than a full marching band.





Next, there's Donny.
He's doing his homework, part of which consists of trombone practice.
He only knows a note or two, and I have to admit, it sounds like a dying cow.





Then there's Remy. He's either with me or Donny, never alone.

And he's always up to something.

He's been lying a lot lately. He's admitted he likes to tell stories.
I told him I like his creativity, but that I need to know when he's telling the truth or not.

He just smiles.

I'm in so much trouble with him.



Then there's Texas Home Boy, who's off watching
Mad Money or The Daily Show in our bedroom.
Or some horrible gangster movie with violence and cussing that scares the kids.
Sigh.


When I show up with my camera, I get THE LOOK.

You know, this one:

And, Annie, sweet Annie, just looks at me in confusion.

I know, Annie, this IS a nut house.
She follows me around, hoping I'm going to pick up her leash and my keys so we can go for a ride.

Sorry, Annie, someone's gotta keep these guys in line. It's up to you and me, sista.

I think I had a point with this story, but I've already forgotten it.

Scary, huh?
If you stand too close to me, I might rub off on you.
No, not rub ON you.
Get your mind out of the gutter!

I was telling someone today (can't remember who) that sometimes creativity strikes me upside the head with a steel bar,
but other times it sneaks up on me, pulls my pants down and laughs at me.

See, I told you this was a NUT HOUSE.

So, let's have a giveaway!!

I just finished reading a GREAT book, and I want to share it with you.

I'm willing to pass it on, because I want to share my addiction love of reading with others.

So, leave me a comment if you want to win!
Leave me a comment even if you don't want to win.
I love comments.
They make my day.

Did you know you don't have to have a Google account to leave a comment?
You can comment as "anonymous" or just put in a name, any name.

Stephenie Meyer, the fabulous author of the Twilight series, wrote this book also:

I'm not a real big science fiction reader, but this book, The Host, ROCKED MY WORLD.

It's Friday, thank goodness.

What does the weekend hold for you?
In what way is your house a Nut House?
Do you want this book?

Oh, yeah, this giveaway ends...whenever I feel like it.
That's how I roll right now.