Saturday, February 18, 2012

RIP, Randy Jackson.

And so it begins.
Two weeks ago I told you we were getting fish.  This week three teeny, tiny, little non-fish called Zebra Danios were added to the water. The Man said he'd start with a few inexpensive fish to "get the tank established", so he brought home Larry, Darryl and Darryl.  It seems that of the three, Larry is the only one with the teeny, tiny fish guts to break from his cohorts and brave the doorways of Castle Rohan.  Darryl and Darryl, more chicken than fish, are inseparable. They follow each other around like they've got magnets inside them.  I know, I know.  They're schooling fish.  That's what they're supposed to do.  Still...

I really thought we'd lose Darryl first.  I figured that one of them would wander too far from the other and die from separation anxiety.  I was wrong.  All three are still swimming.

Today, The Man brought home five Neon Tetras and a snail.   We have yet to see the snail put anything outside of its shell, so I cannot confirm that it is actually alive, but the Tetras are...with one exception.  

After his initial release into the tank, Randy Jackson became disoriented and listless as he caught himself in the filter's output current over and over again.  The Man knew the end was near, and he took the net out and scooped Randy from the water.  As he flushed him away, he offered these parting words:

 "I don't want you contaminating my tank, Dawg."

(So touching. *tear*)


*makes note on Death Toll Clipboard* 

 2/18/12  RIP, Randy Jackson.

Saturday, February 11, 2012

Before I became a mom, I never...

...answered the door with one breast in and one out of my bra.

...told a passerby at Target that I was on my way to return my crying child at the service desk.


...reminded a fellow parent just how much the overhead compartment on a plane can store.



...understood what was really meant by "extended breastfeeding"(please see also: Co-sleeping,  feeding around a corner, Longboobs McGee, I am not a taffy pull)


...ate food that had been on and/or in another person's face.

...watched Barney and Friends.

...feared that cartoon violence would be acted out in my living room.


...talked with another person's imaginary friends.
...worried that another person's imaginary friends would be a bad influence on my child. 
...scolded an imaginary friend.


...got mad at my husband for falling asleep before me.
...got mad at my husband for waking up AFTER me.
...got mad at my husband for sleeping more soundly than me.


...sounded SO MUCH like my mother.

...started a conversation about poop.
...joined a conversation about poop.
...one-upped a conversation about poop.


How has parenthood changed you?

Friday, February 10, 2012

Father Teaches Daughter Lesson About Facebook

Do you agree with this father's actions? 





What do you think his daughter really learned from this?

We're Getting Fish.

John bought a 29 gallon fish tank and stand during the holidays and chose Superbowl Sunday to set it up...in the office. So instead of having the Exercycle of Doom behind me in webcam pictures, you'll see a tank of iddle fishies...whenever we get them. Right now it's just filled with 29 gallons of tub water.
What he's got so far:  (L to R) Tropical Coral Thing, The Castle at Rohan and the Fires Of Mordor.
John is famous for starting this stuff and then getting frustrated halfway through it and cracking or breaking something. He's also great at using tools that are not meant for the task...like his fists.
Nevertheless, this is gonna be solely his thing (heh, see what I did there?).  I'm only here to figure out the electricity issues: How long an extension cord we'll need and where to plug it in. 
I'll also be in charge of reporting the deaths.  
I may get a clipboard.

Thursday, February 9, 2012

Woo-Hoo! Free stuff!!

Yesterday I won the lottery!  Okay, I didn't really, but it sure seemed like it.  I brought in the mail and discovered that my friends at Amsterdam Printing had sent me a new pen. I have a thing for pens anyway, but I have a serious thing for THEIR pens.  (I'd like to think it's become more of a relationship than just a thing now, but until I get that official Facebook notice I'll remain in Crazy Stalker Mode.) 

My pulse quickened when I saw their name on the shrink-wrapped envelope and felt by its weight that there was more inside than just a friendly little hello-please-buy-our-stuff-oh-and-here's-a-catalog thing.  

I opened it like a kid looking for the prize in a box of Cracker Jacks, and I mean the old school Cracker Jacks, not the new ones with a 2"x2" paper booklet that you have to be superbly skilled in the art of Origami to use.


Stupid shrink wrap.  Can't.  Open.  Fast enough!  
*squee*  
"There IS a pen in there!  Ooh, which one is it?!"

Now, the folks at Amsterdam know that I love their Manor Pen.  I got a sample of one once and somehow managed to break the dang-blasted thing in half.  I wrote them about this and, being the awesome people they are, they sent me a few new ones to replace the one I had apparently used so hard and so much in my fevered list-making frenzy that it cracked under the pressure.  


This new pen they sent was called the Entice Pen.  It's even been engraved with my first name (and my zip code for some reason). 
Hm, what?  Why yes, I DO have a picture:
Second from the left in "graphite" - smokin' hawt stylus!
  

I.  Love.  It.  
I'm totally cheating on my Manor Pen with this one, but...well...it's got my NAME on it, you know?  That's got to make it okay.  


I wonder if I could get the peeps at Amsterdam to tattoo Random Ninja on something...

Thursday, February 2, 2012

Does This Vagina Make My Van Look Hot?

Lately, I've been thinking a lot about truck testicles. 
Let me try that again.
Lately, I've been thinking a lot about blogging about truck testicles.

There's a father in the pick-up/drop-off queue at my girls' elementary school who has an enormous set of chrome-covered balls swinging from his bumper hitch.  I've seen some interesting car accessories in my time. Remember the car bra?  (What was that supposed to lift and/or separate, anyway?)  Recently, I've seen people put eyelashes on Volkswagon Beetles to make the headlights look like eyes.  Interesting, yes, but the truck nuts phenomenon got me wondering, so I started to do a bit of research on this latest (but far from greatest) fad in vehicular personification and I found a guy who makes them on Facebook.  Our conversation went pretty much like this:

Me: So...about those bumper hitch balls...just...WHY??

Ball Guy: Why not ?
Ball Guy: It is a novelty product, we sell them to make a profit. We need the income to pay our bills and cover payroll. Literally hundreds of people have jobs within our industry and dealer program, within the U.S. alone not to mention our dealers in many countries.

Me:  I'm trying to do a little research on this...do you also make a vulva design? 

Ball Guy: No, we get that and breasts request a lot, over the years, however it mostly asked by people who are ignorant of the connotation "he has balls" and what that means.

Me: I know what it means. I also know what the phrase "what a C***" means, but I've never seen one on a bumper hitch.
Me: I don't necessarily want to have a vadge on my van. I'm just saying it should be an equal opportunity thing. Don't you agree?  
 
Ball Guy:  Sure, so go google and search vulva and/or breasts on a truck, find the right company for you and buy and install them. I'm just saying we don't do them, just balls...

Me: No one makes them. Apparently it's not marketable to have a replica of your vulva suspended from the bumper. That's why I thought I'd ask you. Wouldn't you want your daughter to be able to express herself in the same way as any guy who wanted to tout his enormous set at unsuspecting motorists? Think of the children, man.

Ball Guy: So here is your opportunity, start your own company, do something for the children!
 
Me: But...now I'm left wondering if it would be better to make them customizable in different sizes, shapes and whatnot or just have one basic Chaka-Khan "I am every woman" sort of thing.  It can't be any more difficult for my children's classmates to unsee Soccer Mom's kitty swinging behind the van than it is for us to unsee the balls on their dad's truck, can it?


And with that...he left me hanging.   I went back a few days later to find that Ball Guy had deleted the entire conversation from his page.  When I asked why, he said that my last comment was "a little blue and out of line".  

BLUE and out of line?  Really?  Dude, you sell bumper nuts!


Where was I going with this?  Oh, right:
If one day you pull up behind a vulva on a Volvo you just might have me to thank for it.
Possible slogon:  Bumper Vagina.  Bumper vagina?!  I hardly know 'er vagin...ah, forget it.  Too easy.
Ball Dude has since stopped replying and I don't think we are on facebooking terms anymore, so I won't mention his name or even link you to his website.  I know you wanted to put a nice big fleshy set of danglers on your eyelash-clad, bra-wearing Volkswagon and call it The Dragster, but you're on your own with that, chief. 
Sorry. 

Some Other Stuff I Wrote