Reluctant Homunculus

Get back to me when you have a meritorious claim.

2011-11-16T14:08:00.003-06:00

When I have to get out a ruler to measure the thickness of your Motion to Suppress, I find it very difficult to suppress my more sardonic tendencies.

I stopped midway through the .75 inch masterpiece on my desk to send the following email to opposing counsel:

Available at the mental_floss store.

So I have this theory

2011-10-07T13:52:00.002-05:00

Subaru owners are not content to use their cars to drive from scenic point A to recreational point B. They also want their fellow motorists to get to know them on a personal level. They want to us to get them. They want us to know that they totally dig nature on a much more profound level than the common man. Oh, and in case you can't extrapolate from the 15 - 20 stickers on the back of the Forrester in your lane, they want you to know for whom they vote. You better believe there is some consistency as to the voting patterns of Subaru owners.

So I started to wonder: what would happen if you were to put a conservative-leaning sticker on the back of a Subaru? Could it even happen?

Here is my working hypothesis:

GOP Sticker

Subaru

Annihilation?

Of course, I can't test my theory, because I would never put the live of loyal retrievers at risk ... oh, and people, too (but mostly retrievers).

The OKO Trike

2011-08-11T18:21:00.001-05:00

As insanely cool as it may appear,

the OKO Tricycle bears a disturbing resemblance to another vehicle.

Photos from last evening's run

2011-07-19T13:15:00.000-05:00

I had a great run yesterday evening, and managed to take a few photos on the trail. I would now like to share some of the poignant thoughts I had along the way.

Suck it, Frost! Some roads are less traveled for a reason.

Poor parenting is its own punishment

2011-07-15T11:12:00.006-05:00

Matt called me the other night to let me know he was going out with friends after work. I immediately seized upon this opportunity to shirk any nutritional responsibility for my kiddos.

At the McDonald's drive-thru I bought a salad for myself, but tossed my kids to the dietary wolves and ordered them up a mess of nuggets, fries, and the like. That's right. Screw their cholesterol levels!

A bit of instant karma awaited me as I pulled around to the first window where we learned the teen who had taken our order suffered from a most unfortunate acne affliction. Most unfortunate. I did the polite thing, smiled, said thank you, pretended not to notice the dermatological catastrophe before me.

That's when Max shouted from the back seat, "What did that mosquito do to your FACE?!"

I smiled sheepishly, apologized, returned to facing forward, and rolled up the window before Max could follow-up with another probing question.

We got our food from the next window, pulled away, and then discovered Max's cheeseburger (no pickles) had not made it into his Happy Meal. Making our return trip to the drive-thru, I told Max all about teenage acne, that it was most likely uncomfortable and a little embarrassing to the kid who took our money, and we don't want to talk about it in a way that might make him feel bad. Max agreed to say nothing when we saw him again.

During the awkward return encounter with the kid at the window, I explained our pickle-less cheeseburger quandary, and he told us to go ahead to the second window. Just before I could pull away, Max proudly proclaimed, "See mom! I didn't say anything about his pimples!"

Fear has a new name, poopiehead

2011-05-26T13:33:00.001-05:00

Coming in October.

This fall, Mom and Dad won't be able to hear you scream.

I don't like to talk about my flair

2011-03-30T15:17:00.002-05:00

No excuse for this cookie.

2011-02-23T18:00:00.009-06:00

Eight years I have been out of college this spring. Still, every December and May I continue to have the final exam dream. You know the dream. You suddenly realize that you enrolled in advanced organic chemistry but never bothered attending class. Now it is too late to drop the class, you only have a couple days to cram, and you are a freaking political science major.

Then you bolt awake in a cold sweat.

Girl Scout cookie season is again upon us! Last night I had another chilling dream. I went to pick up my Samoas, only to learn that they had substituted Carmel deLites. They didn’t think I would mind, as they are “pretty much the same thing.”

If you know anything about me, anything at all, you can predict that I was blue with rage when I woke up choking and gasping.

Like the final exam dream, I predict that this one will reoccur year after year. The stress and trauma of having been maliciously ambushed with the Carmel deLite substitution has left too deep a scar.

I really, really need some rest. Really.

2011-02-08T14:37:00.014-06:00

Molly is teething. I am desperate for sleep. So, so desperate for sleep.

Alternately, I am abusively surly and in the next moment obnoxiously silly. It really depends when you catch me. I almost look forward to random phone calls today; I am often surprised and delighted to see what comes out of my mouth.

I managed to take a break from my zombie trance this morning to fill out a survey from LexisNexis, who had the audacity to ask me to rate them, and then justify my rating. I tried to skip the latter step, but Lexis had to press the issue.

What is the single most important reason for giving Lexis.com this rating?
'I suppose a rating of 6 would indicate a slightly more favorable recommendation than merely neutral or indifferent. That seems rather intuitive on a 1-10 scale, but it may be just me. There are only two meaningful choices for legal research, Lexis and Westlaw. If a colleague, associate or friend were to ask me, "hey, should I go with Lexis or Westlaw?" I would answer with a solid, "Meh. My office uses Lexis. No complaints, it's been a few years since I used Westlaw, so I don't really know what I am missing at this point. Eh, what the hell, I say give Lexis a shot." That is the single most important reason for giving Lexis a 6. You sorry you asked now? I bet you are. Look, I tried to leave this space blank, but the survey required my input. I kinda feel like you forced this rather ambling and prolix response. No one to blame but yourselves LexisNexis. No one to blame but yourselves.'

You gave is a score of 6. What do we need to do for you to score us higher in the future?

One word: schwag.

I'm thinking fountain pen, or one of those nifty travel mugs that look like a take-out paper cup. Those are awesome!
I think I need at least a quick nap as a stopgap against additional douchebaggery.

The Grossest Job You'll Ever Love

2011-02-07T13:26:00.005-06:00

While out to lunch this weekend Max had a productive and slimy sneeze. Matt and I scrambled for napkins and raced to clean up the child before Max could take care of it with his customary lingual wipe (I gagged a little just typing “lingual wipe”).

Relieved that none in our lunch party would be consuming mucus, Matt was yet a little shaken, “I have seen some really gross stuff in my time. I have seen what it looks like when someone shoots themselves in the face with a shotgun; I have cut open a man who had been decomposing for days in the river. But nothing could prepare me for how gross kids are! I have seen things eaten that should never be eaten, disgusting things that had to be cleaned out of horrible places, and the snot! The constant snot …”

I couldn't help burst out laughing when Tough Guy closed his eyes and gave in to a full-body shudder.

Like Manna from Snark Heaven

2011-02-01T11:49:00.013-06:00

I am sure you, like me, have spent considerable time pondering the perfect descriptor for those cooler-than-you chain smoking beatniks nouveau. They are so tortured, so creative, so ... French (even when they are not). To find a suitable term that perfectly captures these people and all their gritty on-trend splendor is a difficult task, to say the least.
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I was supremely delighted when, while browsing Zulily for overpriced baby sundries, I came across THIS:
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It is sublime in its perfection!
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I am only saddened that I didn't think of this on my own.

Well, this shoots my week all to hell ...

2010-12-27T10:56:00.005-06:00

Back in the office this morning, planning my week, and clicking through my email when I spot this in my inbox:

My lifetime charter membership is ending on Friday? Sweet Mother of CRAP! Elder Care Matters is threatening to kill me!!!

I'm going to go rough up Grandma Grace right now as a show of my defiance.

'Tis the season for disappointment

2010-11-17T13:33:00.006-06:00

I haven't even started shopping yet, but I feel confident that I'll pick out all the wrong gifts. Again.

One thing I always get right, though, is the wrapping. I am a world class gift wrapper. Really! But I am starting to worry that the more beautifully wrapped the gift is on the outside, the more crushing the disappointment with the item inside. So this year, I have made up some gift tags that will help manage recipient expectations.

You should have heard the shriek of terror on that night

2010-11-08T15:37:00.013-06:00

When we got our Halloween photos processed, we found some eerie images.

(For purposes of this post, let us just ignore the reality of digital photography, shall we?)

Care to venture what you are seeing in this image? Ectoplasm particles? Electrical disturbances? Ghostly artifacts ?
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Terrible guesses, all.

Matt and I made cupcakes to take with us to a Halloween party. They were frosted with an absurdly delicious whipped meringue icing to look like brains. Some with vasculature and some without (for the squeamish).

I am not terribly practiced at piping icing with a pastry bag, so it took me a lot of time to make our macabre little morsels. I was pretty pleased with how they turned out.
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You know where this story is going, right? You surely have to know.

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Oh yes.

This story ends up with brains splattered everywhere. It was very much like a scene from Pulp Fiction. Poor Marvin.

Yum!

2010-10-28T18:22:00.003-05:00

Did anyone else get super carried away after watching Pan's Labyrinth?

Couple of words make a big difference

2010-10-06T18:14:00.005-05:00

Matt and I were upstairs while Max was entertaining himself downstairs. He called up to us, "I got it! I got it!"

We shouted back down, "Yay! Good work Max."

It occurred to us that we need to be more attentive parents when Max clarified, "I got it ... all over !"

The cleanup was just as unpleasant as you might imagine.

The Old Distract & Redirect Tactic

2010-09-15T16:57:00.015-05:00

Did I mention that I am dieting? World’s least exciting topic it very well may be. That notwithstanding, I shall forge on to bore you with another diet-related post.

I have been nearly fasting all day in anticipation of a deep fried Twinkie at the State Fair. It has been three years since my last deep fried Twinkie, and I intend to end that slump TONIGHT!

Despite its despicable suggestion that I set a weight loss goal of 200 pounds, I continue to track my calories over at the Livestrong site. Out of curiosity, I typed in “deep fried twinkie” into the Livestrong calculator. Fortunately, entering the words "deep fried twinkie" into a fitness website did not cause my computer to explode. I did get some subtle redirection, though.

The folks with Livestrong wouldn't even dignify my query with a response. Rather they cheerily suggest, "Won't you enjoy a wholesome peach. We think you should probably just have a peach."

You calling me fat, Armstrong?!

2010-09-02T17:18:00.016-05:00

Like all mothers of a new baby, I am starving, angry, and just a bit lightheaded. Ah, the joyful post-natal ritual of calorie restriction ...
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I have been using the calorie tracker application available on the Livestrong website to keep tabs of every tasteless morsel that passes my lips. I logged on this afternoon to dutifully report my quarter-cup of cottage cheese when Livestrong challenged me to a fun little game of Truth or Dare.
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Well, not so much Truth, more like Wildly-Insulting-Dare.

Oh yeah. Livestrong just suggested that I lose two-hundred pounds. Believe it.

Screw you, Lance Armstong, and the bike you rode in on.

Don't you shush me, Lefty.
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An offer I could refuse

2010-08-25T16:22:00.011-05:00

As part of the continuing legal education requirements for the Utah State Bar, attorneys must take courses on ethics and civility.

A recent exchange with opposing counsel has me concluding that we need to dial back the civility just a notch.
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OPPOSING COUNSEL: How's the new baby?
ME: Great! Thank you so much for asking.
OP: So, are you nursing?
ME: Uh . . . yeah . . .
OP: Is that tough now that you are back to work?
ME: [shifts uncomfortably] I am able to send bottles of milk with the baby.
OP: Man! Those breast pumps are expensive!
ME: I guess.
OP: My wife had really nice ones.
ME: Excuse me?
OP: Breast pumps.
ME: Oh!
OP: If you want, you could have one.
ME: Thanks, I'm set.
OP: It would be good to have one at home and one at the office though, right?
ME: They are portable.
OP: Seriously, do you want the pump?
ME: No thank you, really.
OP: Why not?! It is in perfectly great shape.

I was able to finally communicate that I wasn't really all that interested in a second-hand breast pump before I made my escape.

My point is that civility can go too far. Uncomfortably, skin-crawlingly too far.
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Just a concerned customer

2010-08-24T11:10:00.003-05:00

Dear Brothers-All-Natural,

First off: I love your products, specifically the fruit crisps. Yum!

Okay, now you are aware that I come to you out of love, you will hopefully not begrudge me for playing grammar cop. On the back of your packaging it states:
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We take great care to insure the quality and food safety of
our products … All raw materials and finished products are
tested daily to insure 100% purity and the best possible quality.

I appreciate and admire the guarantee on the package, but I am 99% certain you are misusing the term insure when you mean ensure.

I say 99% sure, because I suppose it is possible that you are actually referring to some sort of financial liability policy that would pay you for any damages resulting from a less than quality product (in which case the usage here would be correct). I strongly suspect, however, that you are making a specific promise of a quality or condition (ENSURE) rather than referring to limiting financial liability (INSURE).

Sorry to even write this email. Frankly, I disgust myself a little bit for bothering you. I only want good things for you and your tasty products, Brothers-All-Natural! I would hate for your magnificent product to be shunned by grammar-whackos – and you know they are out there.

With warmest regards,

Kerry

Par for our course

2010-08-17T16:35:00.001-05:00

Why I Love my Husband

2010-07-14T17:03:00.009-05:00

We welcomed our baby girl Molly into our family in May. With the blessed event, however, comes exquisite sleep deprivation. I am prone to pining for the rest that eludes me, even on facebook.

Perhaps it is my out-of-whack serotonin levels, but Matt's response triggered a violent gigglefit. Sweet Sassy Molassy, I love that man!

Mood Swings

2010-05-21T15:44:00.007-05:00

Baby is coming in precisely ONE WEEK from today. I am variably delighted and terrified about the prospect of a new baby in our home.
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I have put together a crude diagram that I just tap with my pen whenever people ask me how much I am looking forward to the big day.
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It's nice to have the arrow back on the right after several horrifying days in the red.

Catchy, catchy irony

2010-05-13T14:51:00.004-05:00

I have had this song stuck in my head since the BP spung it's cute little leak in the Gulf of Mexico.

You are whistling right now, aren't you?

Why? Why would I like any of these things?

2010-05-07T18:04:00.004-05:00

I read an article about the increase of babies born to highly educated mothers, and mothers over the age of 30. Based upon that reading, I was presented with the following recommended articles featuring terrible things:

Ew! What?!

2010-04-19T16:33:00.006-05:00

I get a weekly pregnancy email from the American Pregnancy Association which include tips for the poor sucker stuck cohabiting with a gravid woman. The tips are usually something like "let her take a nap while you make dinner, and perhaps she won't threaten to cut your break lines." Helpful common sense type stuff.

This week's tip made me deeply uncomfortable.

Massage my perineum?! That's the tip? Well that just sounds horridly awkward.
"Honey, grab that shoe tree and come help mamma stretch out the old hoo-ha!"

That's actually kinda accurate

2010-03-24T17:21:00.005-05:00

Amazon has a nifty new feature where you enter a specific PayPhrase that gives you a shortcut to spending your money even faster. If you have shopped there recently you noticed that Amazon will provide you with a suggest PayPhrase which is usually some random bit of word salad.

I was shopping for some baby products when spotted this proposed PayPhrase.

Kerry's Utter Responsibility

Did they mean udder responsibility? This gave me a hearty chortle, and reminded me that I need to register for some Bag Balm.

Lack of sleep is hindering my professionalism

2010-03-11T18:10:00.006-06:00

Pregnancy has a way of disturbing one's sleep. The consequences of sleep deprivation can be unfortunate. For instance, one may find one's self more funny than one actually is.

Case in point, in responding to a ridiculously detailed discovery request, I may have included the following item:

In response to request No. 24, [CLIENT] respectfully declines to describe the undergarments of the witnesses of this case, as such information is immaterial to a DUI prosecution, the discovery of which is unlikely to lead to admissible evidence. At this time I intend to call only the arresting officer. If at deposition Officer [LAST NAME] has no reservation to describing his unmentionables, however, I will not object.

TP Axiom

2010-03-01T14:22:00.005-06:00

Listen. We have discussed this at length: the more bathroom tissue claims to be soft, the more abusive it is going to be to the business end of your digestive tract. Further adjectives are to be avoided at all costs when it comes to purchasing this stuff.

For the foregoing reasons, I simultaneously winced and clenched when I read this article from the Consumerist discussing the new tissue manufactured in the UK which incorporates bits of cashmere (recall that cashmere is still wool).

At any rate, the article is worth reading, if only for the delightful comments from like-minded readers.

If you guessed this post was just a lame excuse to recycle my angry TP graphic, you are especially astute!

Designed by engineers who have probably never seen one in real life

2010-02-26T10:50:00.006-06:00

Here's a disturbing little product I spotted over at Amazon:

This is a Microsoft Bluetooth Notebook Mouse, which was apparently designed specifically for trolling the web for hardcore porn.

I especially, especially like how easy the scroll wheel is to find on this model.

Feeling rather ecru today

2010-02-09T17:21:00.003-06:00

Just read an article about how Different Colors Describe Happiness vs. Depression. It was a mildly interesting story about a study with predicable findings.

Happy people gravitate toward yellow. Depressed people feel grey. An affinity for light blue is acceptable, while a preference for dark blue indicates an immediate need for heavy medication. Pretty intuitive stuff, I suppose.

It was the end of the article that piqued my interest.

Whorwell is now testing the [color] wheel on patients with irritable bowel syndrome. He's hoping that color choices can reveal patients' attitudes and predict how well they will respond to treatments like hypnosis. Because people are embarrassed by gastroenterogical symptoms, Whorewell said, non-verbal methods of getting information are sometimes preferable to conversation.

I am just imagining how such research will ultimately affect the treatment of irritable bowel syndrome.

GASTROENTEROLOGIST: How are you feeling this afternoon, sport?

PATIENT: For the nineteenth time: BROWN! I'm feeling brown, okay doc? Dark. Ruddy. Brown.

REPOST! REPOST! REPOST!

2009-12-30T14:41:00.011-06:00

I am about four months into my second pregnancy. I think about food now. A lot. Lately I have been ruminating on the subject of Girl Scout Cookies. Accordingly, I went back a couple years and found this post from spring of 2008.

How self-absorbed does one have to be to giggle at their own handiwork? You are looking at it, baby!

I have also included the comments because in the 3 or 4 years I have been blogging, this is the only negative feedback I have received to date. This is how I know that no one is reading my blog. Except for my mom. Because I told her to.

-----

The Changeling

It seemed like years ago I placed my order for Girl Scout Cookies. When I learned they had at long last arrived I began daydreaming about that first glorious moment in which I would tear open my box of Samoas . . .

Ahh . . . the texture, the aroma, the crunch . . . the happiness!

But my Samoas never arrived.

Instead, I had unwittingly purchased a box of Carmel deLites. Since the packaging looked identical, I presumed that the Girl Scouts just changed the product name.

Sadly, I could not have been more wrong.

The Carmel deLite (shown above) is, at best, a sad and miserable excuse for a Samoa.

This goes far beyond a mere name change, this is not the same cookie but an unholy abomination before God and my own taste buds.

I have done a little digging and it seems that there is a slow and evil encroachment of the Carmel deLite into Samoa territory. Carmel deLites are the carp of the Samoa pond -- an insidious fish of a cookie that is pushing out the more tasty indigenous species.

This affects all of us, people. Sure, you may be able to purchase the Somoa in your neighborhood today, but next year you may not be so fortunate. Then, instead of a delicious Samoa, you will find a Carmel deLite staring back at you with its soulless eye.

-----COMMENTS-----

Anonymous said...I was sad but for a much different reason. I ordered the same cookies and waited and waited and eventually forgot about them. Then, I started a diet and was very upset when my cookies showed up on my door step cause I can't eat them.

Amy

Reluctant Kerry said...
Seems to me like you have some Samoas you can dispose of.

You have my address.

Anonymous said...
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Girl_Scout_cookie "Licensed baking companies can offer up to eight varieties of Girl Scout cookies [. . .] Each baking company names its own cookies." Furthermore,"Caramel deLites are also called Samoas."

They are the same darned cookies. Research next time. They only taste different in your head.

Reluctant Kerry said...Hey Anon. Thanks for stopping by. Two things:

(1) if your are looking for well-researched writing and/or ranting, you have clearly come to the wrong place

(2) You seem quite knowledgeable regarding Girl Scout Cookies, could you hook me up with some SOMOAS (and not any of those gag-eliciting Carmel deLites) ???

Anonymous said...
They are not the same cookie! They are made by different companies to different specifications and have different names accordingly. For example, Samoas use dark chocolate whereas the Delites use milk.

Reluctant Kerry said...
Hello Anon, II. Thanks for visiting.

This post was a ridiculously long rant whereby I told YOU that that they are are not the same cookie. That's right. I. Told. You.

So the Carmel deLite has its own spec list? What is that list, pray tell?

(1) Produce product that looks similar to the beloved Samoas.

(2) Use milk chocolate in place of dark chocolate.

(3) Make these cookies as sad and abysmal substitute for Samoa as you can without violating any express provisions of the FDA.

I propose name change: Carmel dePress. They should come with a gooey Cymbalta filling in the center, that's what I say!

Validation!

2009-10-27T17:16:00.004-05:00

I was puttering around to determine which search terms would yield this site as the first result on Google.

Oh yeah! I am the web's foremost authority on seepy buttholes.

Now I just need to see what all the buzz is about on the topic of sleepy buttholes.

Mmmm . . . fingers

2009-09-17T15:24:00.009-05:00

I first encountered this admonition back at the 2006 Iowa State Fair.

Which made me wonder: whose fingers? my fingers? someone else's fingers? lady finger cookies?

Now that I have a child, it is comforting to know that this ambiguity has been cleared up.

YOUR fingers

Max was moments away from allowing a horse to eat his fingers off, fortunately he received the information he needed before it was too late.

Ahhh . . . Sometimes I Tickle Myself

2009-08-12T16:42:00.012-05:00

I went to court today. After the conclusion of trial proceedings, the judge told a strange story of a shackled defendant who shocked the court by displaying a scar, which was located in an intimate area. My own sense of propriety failing, I made the following request:

ME: May it please the Court? Counsel would like to show the Court her C-Section scar.

JUDGE: Counsel’s request is adamantly denied!

I didn’t really want to show off my scar, but I always hate to lose a motion.

Instant Karma

2009-07-13T13:10:00.009-05:00

I get bored from time to time, and when that happens I like to reach out and make connections with others. Quite often this means sending feisty, colorful, and sometimes blatantly obscene texts to Matt's pager.

As I send these, I imagine: Matt diligently working when his pager goes off for the thirty-seventh time that afternoon; he casually glances at the display, tries to not to react to my filthy little missive, and goes back to rendering excellent patient care.

It is truly one of my favorite things to do. At this point however, Matt has grown accustomed to my obnoxious prank and I really have to get creative to elicit much of a reaction. So it was that my last text to Matt was a well-crafted work of explicit literature. I will not tell you what the text said; suffice to say that I masterfully wove inside jokes with song lyrics with a healthy dash of crude profanity.

I giggled to myself as I sent off my evil text, and then returned to my work feeling quite refreshed and satisfied.

Then . . . my phone buzzed with a new message from my mother-in -law:

Oh. Sweet. Jeebus.

While Matt may not have rolled on the ground laughing at my text, he most certainly did when he found out that I had accidentally sent it to his parents.

Who do you think you are fooling?

2009-05-21T17:58:00.008-05:00

The item below may be sold in head shops, and the purveyor will swear up and down that it is intended for smoking tobacco . . .
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. . . but you and I both know for that this fine piece of hippie paraphernalia is intended for marijuana.
.

Similarly, this interesting item is listed as a wig purifier, which is just insulting to this consumer's intelligence. Let us just call it what it clearly is:
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A DISPLAY BOX FOR SERIAL KILLERS!

I read it for the articles . . .

2009-05-01T12:23:00.002-05:00

I like to peruse Matt's medical journals. Not because I wish to stay abreast of current medical research, but because sometimes they have articles like this!
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Anal Spincteroplasty With Perineoplasty:

Managing Fecal Incontinence

There is not a single word in that article title that is not hilarious.

Sadly, if Karma ever catches up with me, I will undoubtedly be smitten with a seepy butthole for laughing at this.

Just Like Real Life

2009-04-14T13:48:00.002-05:00

I spotted this ad with a cute little dollar sign couple. It struck a note with me.

The husband dollar sign is clearly the frugal member of the couple (read, tight-fisted skinflint). He is extending an arm around his wife, a patronizing gesture placing her under his frugal wing. The wife makes no attempt to return his embrace. Note the distance between the couple. She is obviously seething.

This is the sad state of this couple's relationship, turned tragically sour and resentful by the husband's oppressive frugality.

ARE YOU READING THIS MATT?!

Buy me a new sofa!

Bushwhacked

2009-03-27T23:37:00.006-05:00

Am I just getting old and stodgy, or are commercials for women-specific products becoming progressively porn-ier?

Case in point:

TRIM STYLE?! Seriously?

YouTube, Baby Boomer Style

2009-03-20T14:42:00.005-05:00

After receiving another dubious email forward warning me that I face imminent harm as the result of some new gang initiation plot, I headed to Snopes.com so that I could provide the debunking link to the email sender and let that person know they, and their kind, are full of crap.

This is probably why I don’t have many friends.

Anyhoo . . . I came across this ad while visiting Snopes.com:

This ad is so un-enticing as to render it truly remarkable. What could possibly be more wearisome, more uninteresting than listening to stories on YouTube of the aging population and their insulin delivery mechanisms?

This one comes close.

This one is probably more interesting,

but likely more unpleasant.

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I suspect there is a lot of overlap between
Branson vacation stories and insulin stories.

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Grandma and Grandpa explain to young Jacob
that KY Jelly is not for his English muffin.

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These stories have terrible endings.

BYU Merchandising

2009-03-17T14:07:00.006-05:00

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Max is too young to know it yet, but he is a University of Wyoming fan. While he was still gestating away, his mom was sewing Cowboy pennants for his nursery.

With potty training just around the corner, I cannot think of anything more suitable for Max to poop on.

I may just buy one of these BYU potty trainers over at Varsity Baby.

Now Max can learn to defecate and desecrate all at the same time!

Wyoming Pride . . . it's probably not for everyone

2009-03-10T11:22:00.015-05:00

Let me begin by saying that I am truly proud of my Wyoming heritage, much in the same way President Obama still loves his racist grandmother.

You may recall my post regarding Wyoming’s sub-par Easter Egg. Much as Wyoming's Egg fell short in representing the talent and creativity of Wyomingites, the state continues to elect individuals to Congress who fail to reflect the intelligence of the state populace.

Behold:

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In Lummis' defense . . . the pronghorn is the fastest animal in NORTH AMERICA, which, sadly, may be as far as she considers to be the relevant portions of the world. A weak defense, I must concede . . .

What's up your butt?!

2009-03-06T15:29:00.008-06:00

Got somthing irritating you?

Good chance that you can find an image of that foreign body hiden in your rectum over at Wikidpeia.

Mystery solved!

I'm sorry, I didn't get a word you said, Mr. President

2009-02-24T20:54:00.005-06:00

Presently, I am sofa-bound trying to take in President Obama's Address to Congress. I am CRAZY-distracted by Nancy Pelosi sitting behind Obama's left shoulder. She is wearing some retro-70's-fondue-party-avocado-green sweater outfit, blinking far more than is humanly necessarily, and appears to be sucking broccoli from her teeth.

Try as I may, I can't focus on anything other than her bizarre facial tics, and the gleeful way in which she continually pops out of her seat in applause as though her chair were spring-loaded.

Am I just being catty? Did anyone else find her distracting.

(If I find out she is suffering from tardive dyskinesia, I am going to feel like a jerk.)

Matt tells me these kind of things get to me because I have an overactive parietal lobe. I think I would have been better served had he specialized in plastic surgery rather than psychiatry.

Okay. Back to the Address.

Pet Causes

2009-02-05T19:15:00.001-06:00

I guess everyone should get behind a cause about which they feel passionately.
.
The site e-MANcipate.net is devoted to "accelerating the acceptance of male pantyhose as a regular clothing item"
.

Ah . . . I must concede that mantyhose are quite striking!

I don't want to brag . . .

2009-01-15T11:21:00.010-06:00

. . . that's not true at all, I most certainly do want to brag! Guess what I get to do tonight. Here's a couple hints:

(1)

(2)

That's right. I get to attend the World Premiere of "Mary and Max" and the Opening Night hoopla for the Sundance Film Festival. HOORAY!

"Mary and Max" is a claymation feature about enduring pen-pals Mary (an 8-year-old misfit living in the suburbs of Melbourne, Australia) and Max (a morbidly obese 44-year-old New Yorker who suffers from Asperger's syndrome).

I have my fingers crossed that I will run into Phillip Seymour Hoffman tonight where I will exclaim, "Do you know who I am?! I am a big fan of radio control!" I then look forward to being escorted out by security.

Overall, this promises to be an exciting night!

Add it to the list

2009-01-13T15:19:00.011-06:00

In this third installment of a series entitled "Plastic Surgeons I Won’t Be Using" . . .

. . . I openly declare my personal policy against physicians who use caulking guns as their instrument of choice.

So wrong for so many reasons

2009-01-09T12:36:00.002-06:00

Two words that make my insides churn:

Hello, I am the office perv. Pleased to meetcha!

2009-01-08T00:01:00.004-06:00

.
Dear Websense filter personnel:

I am writing this letter in defense of my character and to deny using my office computer for inappropriate purposes.

By way of background, I recently read about a necklace that sold at auction for more than $2 million. Curious to find a photo of this pricey string of pearls, I ran a Google search with the following terms:

Try, if you will, to imagine my surprise when this innocuous search triggered the Websense porn filter.

I am saddened to find myself in the position where I must affirmatively assert that my search for a "pearl necklace" was, in fact, literal.
.
Seriously, what the hell is wrong with you that your first impression of "pearl necklace" was that of hard core pornography. Tell you what: why don't you get back to me when I run a search for something more blatantly disgusting, like "Cleavland Steamer."
.
Get your mind out of the gutter Websense.
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Very Truly Yours,
.
Reluctant Kerry

Post Sorbet

2009-01-07T23:13:00.013-06:00

.
There have been a number of things I have wanted to post lately, but I haven't. I just couldn't bring myself to return to my typical coarse and arguably tacky brand of wordsmithery following the last two posts of photos of my sweet innocent kiddo.

This post will serve as a buffer. A palate cleanser, if you will.

Okie-dokie, then. Moving on . . .

You may find this hard to believe . .

2008-12-27T15:06:00.003-06:00

. . . but our refrigerator is actually a portal to another dimension!
.

Max went looking for a late night snack, but found the gateway to a parallel universe.

This Year's Christmas Card

2008-12-16T15:41:00.004-06:00

Okay, this is just getting ridiculous

2008-11-23T22:27:00.010-06:00

Things are getting out of hand on Madison Avenue's Creepy Tampon Ad Division.

Case in point:

" Bring it girls. Bring it! Bring it! "

So tampon commercials have always made me a bit squeamish. Ladies in white pants, sitting on white couches, lovingly patting their bichon frise . . . with no signs of the "scarlet shame." Weird, uncomfortable, icky stuff.

But these camera angles -- these are just too much:

" Check it ladies, no mess here! "

" See! "

" I am kicking the stuffing out of the MENZEEEEES! "

" You best not be looking at my hooey. "

And the most horrible of Playtex's menstrual crotch-shots . . .

" Check out my period spirit! WOOOOO! "

- - - - - UPDATE - - - -

Diedre from over at Craft Cabana makes some compeling points in the comments:

And the voice over shouting her approval: "may the best protection win!" WTF,O? Also, in the 28 years that I've managed with just the regular tampons, I've never once encountered the need for "no slip grip." And while we are on the subject, how does the backup layer know it's the backup? Does it sit on the bench until it sees a situation developing?

I am still chuckling (and cringing) about potential injuries sustaind for want of a no-slip grip.

NO HATE! Okay ... maybe just a little hate

2008-11-13T15:24:00.004-06:00

Last night a number of protesters picketed outside of an LDS Temple in New York to voice their support of gay marriage and decry those Church members who supported California's Proposition 8.

Demonstrators conveyed a bit of a mixed message.

"Shame on you!" the large crowd chanted in a 1-2-3 syncopation while looking up at the temple. Several protesters held signs asking "Did you cast a ballot or a stone?" while other signs read "Latter Day H8" and "Church of Mormon" with an X drawn over the second M to read "MORON."

That's some mighty fine wordplay, there. Way to take a stand and come down against bigotry and intolerance.

Not funny “ha-ha” – funny “weird-and-creepy”

2008-11-04T15:36:00.012-06:00

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You may not find this too hard to believe, but not everyone thinks I am particularly witty. Today’s telephone call from a wrong number is illustrative:

ME: Hi, this is Kerry.

CALLER: Well, it’s not supposed to be.

ME: You sound like my mother’s obstetrician.

(silence)

CALLER: What?

(CLICK)

The problem with living with two men

2008-11-01T16:23:00.002-05:00

WOAH!

Max warns: "Do NOT go in there!"

Kindred Spirits!

2008-10-17T15:44:00.015-05:00

Last year I posted this Halloween story about my first grade witch's brew whose rather macabre recipe was published in the local paper - much to my mother's horror.

If you don't feel like going back and reading this year-old post (though you should, it would make me happy), I will just recap the primary ingredients:

hair;
cobwebs;
lizards and spiders; and
little kid's kidneys

The last item being the ingredient my dear mother found unacceptably weird and abhorrent for a young child.

Nearly twenty-four Halloween seasons later, we picked up a great book for Max. The book is called Frankenstein Makes a Sandwich by Adam Rex.

Love it! It is a fantastic book.

Anyhoo . . . there is a poem in this book called "The Middlewich Witch-Watchers Club."

Witch watchers hide in trees and shrubs or settle deep in ditches

And when they spot a witch, they look to see which witch it was

They check inside the Witch Watch Book by Mitchell & von Fuzz

Today they saw a Speckled Crone

which shrieked while eating files . . .

And then a Frazzled Warthag baking kid and kidney pies.

That's right! KID and KIDNEY pies !!! I am not alone! I am not the only weirdo creating imaginary confections made from tender young organ meat. Thank you, thank you, a thousand times, thank you Adam Rex for make me feel like less of a freak show.

Can't Wait for the VP Debate!

2008-10-02T13:34:00.009-05:00

And now . . . a series of awkward, confusing and, uncomfortable photos:

Sea lion stuck on the rocks . . .

Turtle stranded high atop the post . . .

Sarah Palin at the podium.

These images share common threads:

They did not get to the top on their own;
They do not belong there;
They have no idea what to do while they are up there; and
You just want to help the poor thing down.

A shameless retelling of the post turtle joke.

My, what a manly grip you have!

2008-09-18T17:33:00.007-05:00

I came across this ad while reading a legal journal.

Oh, so often I have shaken hands with the likes of the jackass shown above. To be truthful I have never found these vice-grip-blowhards to be the most formidable of opponents. The way I figure, if these guys think it is necessary to put the power grip on a diminutive attorney who barely looks old enough to drive, it can't say much about their own legal acuity. In short, I have learned the more aggressive opposing counsel is, the less intimidated I am by them.

I have, therefore made up my mind regarding the firm placing this ridiculous (reprickulous?) ad.

Meet My Gas Guzzler

2008-09-14T19:02:00.000-05:00

While we were visiting Zion National Park, an Italian tourist backed up his truck and crunched right into the fender of our car.

Lovely!

So after about seventy-two phone calls we were able to locate an honest-to-God insurance company with whom to place our claim.

While my vehicle is in the shop I have had the pleasure of driving a Chevy Silverado extended cab pickup truck. This vehicle is a behemoth. Not only to I make a complete fool of myself every time I try to park this monster, but the gas mileage is KILLING me!

I think I found the problem, though. Underneath the gas cap lives a real-life Gas Guzzler.

Can you see him in there? Let's say hello . . .

This cute little Gas Guzzler looks benign enough, but his appetite is insatiable!

To hell with camping, let's all go INTRUDING!

2008-09-11T10:19:00.010-05:00

My family was driving down the highway when we passed a recreational vehicle with the adorable little name of "INTRUDER"

When Matt and I reach that magical age when we buy matching sweatsuits, take up square dancing, and enter the RV market, I don't think we will want to buy a camper with such a mamby-pamby name. Oh no. We will be looking for something just a tad more menacing, more environmentally terroristic. Something along these lines:

"The Defiler"

"The Penetrator"

and my favorite . . . .

. . . the luxurious "Woods Rapist"

How to be a wife beater (it takes more than just a dingy white tank top)

2008-09-04T13:30:00.007-05:00

I'm already learning so much in my new state of Utah! Here's what came up in today's research:

There are formal procedures one must take if they intend to abuse their household members. That's just smart legislation! If you legalize cohabitant abuse then you can regulate it - hell you can even tax it.

Okay . . . in fairness to to the good people of Utah, this Chapter applies to the procedures by which abusers are arrested, charged, and sentenced. But you MUST agree the choice of words is funny if unfortunate.

McCain is Old . . . But is He Old Enough?

2008-09-02T17:26:00.006-05:00

Here is a fantastic video from The Onion:

Old, Grizzled Third-Party Candidate

May Steal Support From McCain

"I am voting for a man I can imagine drowning a bag of cats." Couldn't have said it better myself!

I think the side-by-side analysis clearly illustrates the stronger coot-candidate.

Banking with a personal touch - excessively personal

2008-08-15T13:09:00.008-05:00

I was setting up online bill pay today with a new bank. As a security measure I was asked to "provide answers for the 5 secret questions below."

Could you read that?! That fourth "secret question"? Here, take a closer look:

My bank is trying to learn what my greatest fear is? I am suddenly uncomfortable with the personal turn this online bill pay process has taken. You would really have to reach to come up with more uncomfortably personal questions.
.

The traffic is a bit . . . different out West

2008-07-28T09:41:00.004-05:00

By way of update, we bought a new house, I started a great new job, and the commute is breathtakingly beautiful.

My complaint: the traffic!

It took me more than two hours to get to work one day last week. I would have taken a different route to work, but no one warned me there would be a cattle drive in the middle of the interstate that morning.

Here's the picture message I sent to my boss:

Running late. Cows.

Define natural

2008-07-17T00:29:00.005-05:00

.
.

Restore my "skin's natural beauty" ? As natural as yellow eyes below a crown of acrylic nails, perhaps?

I'll be adding Doc Jepson to my list of plastic surgeons I won’t be using.

Very clever, you non-obstetricians you.

2008-07-02T00:45:00.005-05:00

We spotted this on a VW Bug the other day:

Made me chuckle hard enough that I almost considered foregoing the assistance of a board certified physician to deliver any additional children we might have in the future . . .

. . . then that absurd thought made me chuckle even harder.

Let me just make public my labor and delivery policy: NO ONE in Birkenstocks comes near me or my kid. There. I said it.

"When you are a man, sometimes you wear stretchy pants. In your room. Just for fun."

2008-06-29T14:42:00.010-05:00

Now that we are back in the Mountain West (Hooray!) we got in a little white water action.

Matt got right into his gear and hopped into the raft looking confident and handsome as ever.

Me on the other hand . . .

.
I held up the party for the better part of an hour trying to squeeeeeeze my post-baby body back into a tiny wetsuit.

Sexy photo, n'est ce pas?

More evidence weighing against Utah's wholesomeness

2008-06-05T18:49:00.006-05:00

We went to Utah last week for a battery of job interviews. My brother was kind enough to let us stay at his house. I was in his back yard when I noticed his neighbors' passive-aggressive message to my brother and his family:

That's right, Utahans see nothing inappropriate in flipping their neighbors topiary fingers.

At least Wyomingites are more direct with their gestures:

Wholesome Utah?

2008-05-30T16:02:00.007-05:00

We are delighted to be moving to Utah. Not only because it is closer to our family in Wyoming, but because of the State's golly-gosh-gee innocence.

In anticipation of our move to SLC next month we have been reading the Salt Lake Tribune to keep abreast of regional news. That's where we came across this fantastic nugget:
.

Caught on Tape: Naked Woman Slams SUV

Holy Heck! What have we got ourselves into?

Hooray. I have career options!

2008-05-28T14:35:00.015-05:00

I am officially unemployed. I just wrapped up my old job and am now fully immersed in that most joyful of undertakings: the job hunt. .

(I hate to lay a guilt trip here, but I am still awaiting SLC job leads . . . whenever you guys get a chance . . . surely you haven't forgotten about me)

I have some interviews lined up in the next few weeks, but for every single interview offer I get, I receive at least three very pleasant rejection letters.

Things are looking good. I have been assured that my résumé is "very impressive" and that many prospective employers will be keeping my information "on file." Oh yes my friends, I am as good as employed.

My favorite rejection letter to date was from an insurance company who was seeking an in-house defense attorney. In their rejection response, they indicated that they had just filled the position . . . however . . . (brace yourselves) . . . my qualifications were so Got-dang phenomenal that I should consider becoming an insurance agent with their company.

I am flattered to say the least.

I say a career move from lawyer to insurance agent is at least one notch over on the dirtbag continuum.

¯I'm a-movin’ on up . . . ¯

Potty Paradox

2008-05-20T15:57:00.007-05:00

As I sit impatiently at my desk waiting . . . waiting . . . and waiting, it occured to me:

The longer you have to wait on the person ahead of you in the restroom:

The more you need to go to the restroom, yet
The less you want to actually enter the restroom.

I need to invest in an S.C.B.A. for office use.

That's some painful protection!

2008-05-15T10:24:00.008-05:00

OH! I actually had to read the ad to understand the illustration.

This is sketch of a light bulb, not the male version of a chastity belt.

That's too bad, really. This was a much more interesting advertisement when I thought they were discussing barbed wire prophylactics.

What exactly are you trying to tell me?

2008-05-07T09:34:00.011-05:00

The eternal question: What is the greatest gift I could give my family?

Unconditional love? Security? Support? Warm-and-fuzzy memories?

No, no. According to the folks at Accuquote, the most wonderful gift I could ever give to my beloved family is the gift of life insurance.

Is that supposed to make me want to do business with Accuquote? Oh, I picked up on the ever-so-subtle potshot. Their ad should just say:

I hate you, Accuquote.

I'm pretty sure that was not my search.

2008-05-05T17:09:00.005-05:00

Google keeps track of the terms you search. For those of you to whom this is news, I suggest you go back and clear your history. Trust me on this, you don't want your kid to be looking up "Bunsen Burners" for her science project only to discover that you have a deep seeded bunion fetish.

Anyhoo . . . I typed in the letter "f " into Google this afternoon and noticed this odd search term:

For the life of me, I cannot recall any projects that would have required "fat chicks" research.

What I have here is a real-life whodunit. WHO has been using my office computer? WHAT were they looking for? WHEN did this happen? WHY the hell didn't they use their own computer?!

If anyone has information that would assist in my office sleuthing, please drop me a line.

Time to retire the sign

2008-05-03T13:24:00.003-05:00

Seeing as how teeth are nature's way of saying "time to ween," my days of pumping at work are coming to an end.

While I won't miss the inherently awkward experience of running a dairy operation out of my office, I will miss the sign I placed on my door while I was pumping.

Nothing says "don't bother me" like a cow on your door.

People wouldn't even knock when I had my sign up; documents would just magically appear under my door to be signed at my leisure.

It is with a heavy heart that I bid farewell to the deference, privacy, and quiet that was utterly commanded by my bovine sign (forgive the pun).

Chomp!

2008-04-30T09:36:00.010-05:00

It was like the perfect storm.

A mother's moment of inattentiveness,

burgeoning incisors,

and a baby with a head cold . . . .

.
.

Do you see where this is going?!

I sat down to nurse Max (who now has teeth on the top and bottom). We were all set up with his boppy, situated in the rocking chair, and just about to begin, when the this harrowing chain of events unfolded:

Max opened wide
I looked away to talk to Matt
Max SNEEZED and CLAMPED down!

" GOOD LORD AND BUTTER ! "

(We are working on the coarse language around our house)

It's trying times like these when one must remember to "count your blessing." For instance, I am grateful to be living in this age of modern prosthesis.

I am laughing, just not out loud

2008-04-22T17:58:00.008-05:00

The first time I encountered "LOL" must have been my freshman year of college. I will confess that there may have been a time or two in the mid-90's I used LOL; it seemed like the thing to do.

It is a proven fact* that despite the frequent appearance of LOL's, those people typing or texting LOL are only laughing out loud 2% of the time. This means that when you see LOL, there is a 98% chance that someone is telling you a filthy-bald-faced lie.

In light of the foregoing I have refrained from using LOL. Please understand, however, I am not above using abbreviations as a means of saving keystrokes and time.

The following is a list of the abbreviations I most frequently use in emails and texts. Please print off a copy for your records. I also recommend laminating this useful reference card.

* A "proven fact" I just made up

Smart Alec for Hire

2008-04-18T09:50:00.011-05:00

I have three questions for you:
(yes you)

Are you an attorney living in Salt Lake City area?
Do you know an attorney living in Salt Lake City area?
Are you aware of law firms in the Salt Lake City area who need to hire a wise-cracking attorney?

If you have answered "yes" to any of these questions drop me a note! I would like very much to be employed when we move to Utah this summer.

My pitch:

I am a hoot to have around the office
I leave snacks in the break room
I know my way around the courtroom

Until I have at least three decent job leads I will be on a humor strike! No more funny for you unless I get my way.

New administrative changes. Make a note of it.

2008-04-15T10:27:00.009-05:00

It has been almost three years since Benedict XVI was elected as the Catholic church's 265th pope (Happy Popeaversary!) and he has just released what is surely the most controversial announcement of his papacy:

Pedophiles. Are. Bad.

This is a new policy?

Now, when the Catholic church interviews a new priest, the candidate gets points off should he admit "a tendency to molest children." What was the old policy?

You have to wonder what this interview process is like.

Interviewer: Would you say you have a tendency to molest children?
Interviewee: How would you define tendency?

Girl Power !

2008-04-11T11:50:00.014-05:00

I post the following ONLY because I know my husband will laugh at this. . heartily.

__________

Ladies, you may have wondered what is a girl's best defense against "The Shocker."

Well wonder no more, girlfriend. Presenting . . . . "The Stinger"

"Feminine hygiene goes lethal with The Pink Stinger, a stun gun creatively disguised as a tampon...except for the buttons, prods and high voltage."

I am going to stop on over to Inventor Spot right now to buy one for myself and one for each of the women in my life.

Self defense never looked so crabby!!!

I leave you with a few words of advice:

Always be on the lookout for men wearing typical criminal attire (note the black stocking cap and teeny tiny prowler Mag -Lite) these are the most common "shocker offenders"
Keep the Pink Stinger separate from your other *ahem* toiletries

DIY Demotivation

2008-04-09T14:18:00.006-05:00

Just playing with the demotivational poster generator at Despair.Inc . . .

When our son is 16 years old, this poster is going up on all four of his walls.

Maybe I am just reading too much into it ...

2008-04-02T16:24:00.010-05:00

Everyday, National Geographic sends a nifty little picture of the day (POD) to my homepage on Google.

It was downright awkward having this particular POD on my computer screen at the office today ...

I'm a little bit afraid that National Geographic is coming on to me.

Hey . . . I'm flattered, but . . .

- - - - - - - - - - UPDATE - - - - - - - - - -

I have clearly offended National Geographic with this post. It was evident first thing this morning when I got online to find that I had been blatantly snubbed.

All of my other nifty iGoogle features opened just fine, but the National Geographic POD is now refusing to speak to me.

Incidentally, My husband read this post last night. Someone had to, right? Anyhoo . . . this photo seems to be something of a Rorshack ink blot test around our house.

Matt also saw a racy image, be what he saw was the Aurora Borealis in a B-cup. I can definitely see how this looks like a cleavage shot.

I won't go into details of what I see when I look at this photo, suffice to say that if this National Geographic picture of the day was a doctor . . . its specialty would be POD/Gyn.

A boob in hand is better than two in the bush

2008-03-29T21:17:00.013-05:00

I am not entirely sure what this title means, but just typing it made me laugh. Joy -- there is joy in that there title.

When I had my C-section, I made some lame joke about giving me a tummy tuck while they had me sliced open. They didn't even humor me with a polite chuckle, which would have been the least they could have done after 14 hours of labor and an unsuccessful epidural, but I digress.

It turns out that such a procedure does in fact exist! I was researching the C-tuck procedure out of curiosity when I came across this freaky little logo for Bermant Plastic Surgery (whose website name is also odd, www.plasticsurgery4u.com/).

While I appreciate artistic license, it has no place in plastic surgery. And what is that weird little point on the right side? Is that a beak?

This is not what I want to see when they remove my bandages:

We once chose an artsy body shop to fix our car after a fender bender. I won't make the same mistake when it comes to going under the knife.

Hillary Explained

2008-03-25T11:09:00.005-05:00

Hillary is now finding herself the subject of a media brouhaha. Apparently Hillary recounted her terrifying trip to Tuzla Bosnia at which time her life was threatened by sniper fire.

The media has interpreted footage of this trip and made an uninformed determination that Hillary was exaggerating her claims that her life was in danger when she stated:

"There was no greeting ceremony and we basically were told to run to our cars"

If you think Hillary was overstating the perilous conditions of her Bosnian visit, then you clearly were not there. She was not greeted by school children, but by a member of the Compact Bosnian Terrorists Organization (CBTO).

This photo chills me to my very core.

It is apparent that the same misogynistic media, which does not believe that a woman can be president, also does not believe that a woman (albeit a tiny woman) could be a sniper.

Chauvinist pigs.

You can see more details regarding Hillary’s harrowing tale here.

Disastrous cropping

2008-03-25T07:23:00.013-05:00

This has to be one of the best photos I have ever taken of Max. Admittedly, the quality is poor, but it makes me laugh every damn time I see it.

He was only about three months old at the time, but was still able to clearly communicate his displeasure with his parents despite being plugged with his pacifier.

I loved this picture so much that I decided that I needed to have it reproduced in mug form. I eagerly looked forward to sipping a warm beverage as our sweet son gives me the finger.

I was bitterly disappointed when my mug arrived:

`
They cropped his first obscene gesture right out of the photo!!! Now we just have a mug with a poor quality photo. What's worse is the fact that I am undoubtedly too lazy to bother to re-order.

So, I have moved on. I am contemplating redesigning the mast on Max's blog. This way he can flip off friends and family en mass.

Max says, "Nuts to you, hippies!"

Clock Watching

2008-03-20T10:00:00.008-05:00

I have so much stuff I need to be doing this morning. I am having difficulty concentrating, though (not the first time I have struggled with this topic).

Today is MATCH DAY !!!!

At noon today we will learn with which residency program Matt has matched.

Will we remain in this Midwest Land O' Corn? Will we be returning to our beloved Mountain West?!

THE SUSPENSE IS MADDENING!

So, we know we will be moving, we just don't know where . . . until NOON, that is.

Last night was Christmas Eve for our family. This morning we are sleepy, we are giddy, we want to know where to start shopping for a our very first house!

I really just don't think I can get anything done today.

- - - - - - - - - - - UPDATE - - - - - - - - - -

YAY! Matt matched with his first choice! We are headed back to the mountains, BABY!

Max can learn to ski, and we will have use, once again, of our climbing shoes!!!!

The Changling

2008-03-15T10:33:00.016-05:00

It seemed like years ago I placed my order for Girl Scout Cookies. When I learned they had at long last arrived I began daydreaming about that first glorious moment in which I would tear open my box of Samoas . . .

Ahh . . . the texture, the aroma, the crunch . . . the happiness!

But my Samoas never arrived.

Instead, I had unwittingly purchased a box of Carmel deLites. Since the packaging looked identical, I presumed that the Girl Scouts just changed the product name.

Sadly, I could not have been more wrong.

The Carmel deLite (shown above) is, at best, a sad and miserable excuse for a Samoa.

This goes far beyond a mere name change, this is not the same cookie but an unholy abomination before God and my own taste buds.

First they came for the Thin Mints, and I did not speak out—because I was only lukewarm about the Thin Mints;

Then they came for the Tagalongs, and I did not speak out—because I think the Tagalongs are kinda gross;

Then they came for the Do-Si-Dos, and I did not speak out—because, to be frank, I don't know what the hell a Do-Si-Do is anyway;

Then they came for the Trefoils, and I did not speak out—because, honestly, who orders Trefoils? Really?

Then they came for the SAMOAS . . .

Suprise filling

2008-03-14T15:15:00.012-05:00

I love the Cadbury Mini Eggs. I really do. It's just that I wish they didn't look quite so authentic.

Specifically, the white speckled ones that look remarkably like sparrow eggs.

Years ago when my dad gently placed in my hand a white egg with chocolate colored speckles, I should have thought, "what a lovely little sparrow egg, I wonder where this came from?" What I actually thought was "Yum, a mini egg! I love these things."

I will never forget that terrible crunch and the nauseous moment of realization that Cadbury Mini Eggs do not have runny, slimy cream filling.

That was about ten years ago; I still gag a little every time I think about it.

Perhaps not age appropriate

2008-03-08T00:02:00.003-06:00

There are so many incredible toys I would love to buy Max. Somehow I have managed to use some parental discretion on the following items:

and my favorites, in traditional University of Wyoming school colors . . .

For now I am determined not to impose my own weirdness on our kid. When he is old enough, he can decide for himself if weirdness is right for him.

No one likes optimists anyway

2008-03-06T16:13:00.010-06:00

Five words:

I . . MUST . . HAVE . . THIS . . MUG

This fantastic product is available at Despair, Inc. :-(.

Enjoy your Friday, people, if you can. Try not to dwell on the fact that Monday is looming just three days away.

Bum Fodder

2008-03-04T13:24:00.017-06:00

Around our house we have frequent disputes regarding toilet paper.

I like to buy toilet paper that is soft and gentle; Matt likes to buy toilet paper that says that it is soft and gentle.

There are two universal truths when it comes to bathroom tissue. First, buying toilet paper is no time to be budget conscious. Second, the more a toilet paper brand claims to be soft, the more freakishly abrasive it is.

A toilet paper which sells for 97¢ and is called something like "Fluffy Soft & Dainty" is probably made out of leftover copies of the Weekly World News mixed in with glass shards.

The ONLY toilet paper I want near my tookus is Charmin Bathroom Tissue Plus Lotio n with Aloe.

You will note the absence of a single adjectives. Adjectives are to be avoided as if your tender little pucker depends upon it -- because it does.

My point in a nutshell:

(I tried so hard to make my little roll of TP look evil and menacing, despite my best efforts he ended up looking inexplicably cute-ish)

Obama explained

2008-02-27T18:45:00.006-06:00

There has been a bit of a media stir after this photo of Barack Obama was produced to the Drudge Report by the Clinton Campaign.

Any speculation that this photo is evidence that Obama is some sort of terrorist is just ridiculous.

This photo obviously shows him enjoying the popular bridal shower game Toilet Paper Bride.

What fun!

Picky eater

2008-02-25T16:38:00.001-06:00

I was starving, I didn't have time leave the office to grab lunch. My Doritos got caught in the vending machine and repeated kicking and punching would not dislodge my would-be-high-sodium-lunch. That left me with the snack of last resort: carrot cake.

Why do bakers find it fit to put vegetables inside of a desert? Carrot cake makes about as much sense as mixing broccoli into chocolate cupcakes. I am also not a fan of the raisin, which I regard as the chewy ruiner of otherwise yummy oatmeal cookies.

By the time I navigated the carrot and raisin landmines, and ate the morsels of iffy cake in-between, this was the the carnage left behind:

I am beginning to understand why people don't take me in public to eat anymore. You should see what I do to a supreme pizza.

So . . . very . . . tired

2008-02-24T16:14:00.005-06:00

We are a sleepy bunch in our household. I keep reassuring myself that sometime between now and Max's high school graduation (Class of 2025!!), he will sleep through the night.

When Max started teething, he got up so often at night, that we said "good parenting be damned" and moved him right into bed with us. At present his crib is serving as a laundry folding station. Now Matt and I are trying to figure the best way to get Max back out of our bed. Our prolonged sleeplessness has resulted in virtual zombification.

Not only are we painfully aware of every sneeze, gurgle, and kick, Max wakes up in the middle of the night and early morning and delights in messing with us. He has awakened Matt more than once with the old slap and chuckle, which is consistently comprised of the following three elements:

1. A single SMACK! square on the face
2. Parental response,"What the . . . ???"
3. Giggling

As for me, I am still dealing with the trauma of awakening to find my nose being probed and explored by tiny-nostril-diameter-fingers. Most recently I woke up at 5:30 a.m. when Max was trying to cram his pacifier into my mouth.

My point is we need to figure out a better method, because every creature in this house is pooped.

Even Mae can no longer deal the prospect of facing another early morning without her hefty dose of caffeine.

(That's a grande, double shot, bassetchino)

Feeling mighty catty today

2008-02-21T12:56:00.007-06:00

Have you had a chance to see the much-ballyhooed photos of the nekked Lindsay Lohan?

Here she is posing as a be-speckled Marylin Monroe atop tousled linens.

Here's my problem with the photo -- the placement of the bedsheets. Perhaps they were arranged in such a manner to preserve Ms. Lohan's modesty (demurely concealing the rumored firecrotch). But after seeing this picture, my mind immediately set to work filling in the missing information obscured by the sheets.

The result is unflattering, to say the least.

It is apparent that I have not mastered the manly skill of undressing attractive women with my eyes.

Sorry about all the hearts lately

2008-02-18T13:37:00.004-06:00

You will never guess what Max said for the first time this morning!!!

That's right. He said "MAMA."

So it went down like this:

Me: Good morning Littleman!

Max: Mama.

BOOYA!

I . . . Am . . . Mama.

He's been saying "Dad" for months. You wouldn't believe the sense of validation I have now that he has personally addressed me as well.

Question regarding responsible parenting: Is it too soon to get this tattooed on my kid?

Meatloaf has a valid argument

2008-02-12T10:34:00.001-06:00

It's tricky coming up with masculine Valentine's day gift ideas. One year I just bought Matt a pair of shoes that he liked, stuffed them full of flowers and called them sporty vases.

This year I thought I was on to something clever, a cookie bouquet! True, it is mushie like a bouquet of posies, but that mushiness is tempered by its high caloric snackiness. This is perfection. What could possibly stop me from making this purchase?!

The answer to that question is a price tag of $73.98!

What the hell? We're only talking nine cookies here sister! NINE!

In quoting the great Meatloaf, as I am often wont to do, I would do anything for love . . . but I won't do that.

(Or suck toes, I won't do that either).

HAPPY VALENTINES DAY! May your homemade cookies be tasty and affordable.