If you use any of these pictures without my consent, I will hunt you down and cut you. Got it? Contact me as
necessary.
Monday, April 14, 2008
Not Allowed To Date. Ever.
"I'll get a boyfriend when I'm a teenager, but I won't bring him to the house. He'd probably just drink all your beers."---Sophie, aged 5 years and 3 months
Me: ...so as far as I know, he's straight, but he definitely has some effeminate qualities. Him: Hmm, maybe. Me: Hey, what's your favorite Madonna song? Him: Oh! Well, I'm kinda partial to "Material Girl," but I also like that other one where she's wearing a suit and dancing with the little kid. What's it called? Me: "Open Your Heart?" Him: Yeah, that's the one. Me: ... Him: Why? Me: Somebody was telling me about this episode of "The Family Guy" where they were trying to figure out if some guy was gay by asking him what his favorite Madonna song is. Him: [visibly annoyed] Okay. So which song is the right answer? Me: Um, ANY OF THEM.
[Editor's note, because this is unfortunately probably necessary: Mom, if you watch this video and think you hear dirty content, please to be informed that the bunny is singing in GERMAN.]
Speaking very hypothetically, if I had any upcoming wedding showers to attend ALLURA ALLURA ALLURA, the Tuna Safe "thong in a can" just might make a lovely gift.
Home now after two solid weeks of personal/business travel followed by a few days of The Dreaded Post-Flight Malaise. A few things that might become fuller posts at a later date:
1. Bad pickup lines and the semi-toothless men who try them. 2. Bad pickup lines and the creepy business traveler men who try them. 3. Miami is pretty much awesome anyway. 4. Why my parents should never be allowed to discuss contemporary music. 5. Sophie's increasing likeness to one Eddie Haskell.
"OH Mommy! You look like you're watching me play in a sports game!"---Sophie, age 5 years, watching me try on my new (and rather disappointing) "casual" jacket.
The Christmas aftermath at Cheezleton Manor includes about seven or eight dozen extra cookies, a leg and assorted other fleshy parts leftover from a 10-pound turkey, some fine cheese that forgot to make its way out of the refrigerator, 100 or so washed, dried, but not yet put away dinnerware, and about a bazillion unwrapped gifts strewn about every part of the house. It was a very lovely holiday, indeed.
And yet, yesterday at 3:05 FREAKIN' A.M. Sophie woke up, padded down the hall to my room and delivered at my bedside the news bulletin that she TOLD Santa that she wanted a Barbie for Christmas...but she didn't get one. Oops. Pretty sure my response wouldn't win any parenting awards, but it did rather efficiently get the kid back to her bed.
Hope y'all had the merriest and brightest of holidays!
Cheezwerks: Proudly Disappointing Perverts Since 1999
Dear internets,
I was considerably surprised and bemused to notice a recent dramatic jump in visitors to this site, especially given the lack of posting activity 'round these parts. Turns out that - somehow - cheezwerks.com is now the #8 result for google.com searches on "amanda's butt." That really means a lot to me, y'all.
About In short, the meandering thoughts of a
proud mama, workaholic researcher, poodle owner, multi-cat slave, sometime artist and Southern girl. Want more
details?
This site has been
around in various incarnations since 1999; major redesign efforts seem to
coincide with Big Personal Changes.
