Gorillabuns

liar, liar, pants on fire

I don't know if you know this but we are in a recession. Okay, I know what you are thinking - shut-up! How much longer can I go on and on and on and on about this tedious subject? Oh, like - FOREVER!

How does the economy really affect me, you ask? Well, we are heavily involved in the real estate market here in the big/small town of OKC and NO, we don't "Flip this House." Today, Rich heard the all-time high of excuses to "MAKE" the deal work. "Our client has bone cancer and this is her dream home. Come on, can't you find an extra $5,000 in equity?" Really? How sad. Yea. No can do. If in fact she has Cancer, well that's really horrible but come on. What does this have to do with putting your ass on the line to make a bogus deal work?

Yes, the once bleeding hearts have now hardened. HARD. Because of bullshit statements like this. All I know is, if I was afflicted with bone cancer, the last thing I would ever be doing is purchasing a house with a pool, thus depleting my life insurance policy.

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Rant #2: Pray do tell, what is the cut-off for women of age to quit wearing their children's belly bearing size 5T t-shirt with jeans? The jeans being low-riders, or whatever the catch phrase is about these non-bootylicious jeans. I don't care if you are a negative 20, your ass still looks big and your concave gut tends to look plump and full.  Like you just gave birth.

I'm sure it's just me but I just don't get it... and maybe, just maybe, I'm a little jealous. No, really I think you look stupid.

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Rant # Trois: Would the power's that be (you know, Big Brother) make a deliciously low-fat and healthy alternative to the Jalapeno potato chip? Because if there was one in existence, I would totally devour the whole bag right now. My homemade Talepia fish tacos left me slightly unsatisfied tonight. As many things in my life right now.

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Rant # Vier: It was a sunny and balmy 80 degrees today. Even though my pedicure is much to be desired, I broke out the flip flops. While wearing these quick and easy decisions, I remind myself each and every year around this time , how long will it take my poor feet to adjust to the pain and suffering of the flip or flop in this case? Is it five or ten wearings?

I guess I will soldier on because I love my extensive collection of these beauties.

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Rant # Cinco: Celia has a "Mom's for Muffins" gathering at school tomorrow (I so could make a dirty joke out of this title. Don't tempt me) . Today I was warned with all the being my almost Five year old could muster, "Mom, please wear make-up tomorrow and a pretty outfit. You will look so pretty.PLEASE do this for me." What? You don't like my chap-stick, sweatpants wearing existence?

I told her to not worry. I will be sure to not embarrass her and will don on my best white and frilly Prince shirt for her showing.  I might even throw on a little mascara to make a better impression. ONLY for her would I go to such extreme lengths and yes, I DO have a frilly Prince-like shirt I will be wearing for this extravaganza.

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A not-so-rant: Rich and I have a date this coming Saturday night. The first since December 2, 2007. Aptly titled, "The Quarterly Love-fest."

Let's all bow our heads in silence we don't a) become bored and complete each other's awkward silences, b) talk about our children - AT ALL!, c) come home early or d) end the evening in a drunken spat where someone ends up sleeping on the couch.

Not that any of these multiple choices have EVER occurred. Oh, come-on! Don't act like NONE of these have ever happened to you!

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Now, I leave you with a piece of me, from a Bachelorette party, Circa 2006.   

I do believe this is one of the finer pictures ever taken of me. Never mind I should have had my tonsils extracted at an early age and the photographer should have died a very slow and painful death after snapping this shot WITH MY OWN G*D* CAMERA!

with teeth

I'm sure you are wondering why one would humiliate one's self by posting a picture of themselves from 1980 - complete with a fashionable plaid shirt (notice the piping? I know, you can say it, it's FIERCE!), hair carefully parted down the middle with clips that seem to want to take over one's head any minute, a semi-lazy eye and Bugs Bunny teeth that could pounce on a mortal enemy with one full chomp. I post this picture for evidence sake; for proof. My children do not have a snowball's chance in hell of having perfect teeth. Not even a 1% chance, though their father happened to luck out in the void of a chrome '57 Chevy being inhumanely shoved in mouth for alignment's sake.

Why do I bring up the subject of teeth? Let me count the ways.....

To explain, I bring you exhibit a:

Not only were we blessed with a gastronomic system that plagued us with fits of terror during the first year of our life, we suffer daily with horrible allergies, eczema, a possible speech impediment my mother will not acknowledge, and as of last Friday, a major overbite - OF EPIC PROPORTIONS. Like so bad, the dentist thinks in 2-3 years, she'll have to have her jaw broken, pummeled and left on the side of the road for dead.

But at least she doesn't have cavities, right?

Didn't you know I like to live on the brighter side of life? Well, not really but I REFUSE to believe that this little girl who almost died at 17 months after a MINOR surgery is going to go under the knife again. Nope, no sir! NOT IN MY LIFETIME!

So, she better learn to tuck that shit in and pray for divine intervention to fix this problem. Muy Pronto! 'Nuff said. I refuse to believe surgery is a possibility.

Now, let the court be advised of exhibit B (or #2 for those of you counting): This kidlet has the same allergy problem with even worse eczema. She poops quite dainty rabbit turds while having a propensity to a strict vegetarian diet. She sucks her thumb down to the nub while scarring her palate to mimic the mule's jaw from "Hee Haw". To top it off, she has now been diagnosed as being tongue tied. It's no wonder she has a heart-shaped tongue. While this might be a trait widely sought after in the body beautification/modification sector, this doesn't bode well for her future dramatic pursuits.

Actually, I can handle them slicing the underbelly of her tongue to solve this minor problem - what I can't handle is a torture device being glued into her mouth to negatively modify her thumb sucking behavior. 

And to think, I was worried that my children were going to need braces further down the road of their lives. Just like their Mama. Somehow braces seem like a bag of fluffy, sweet cotton candy, consumed on a bright and sunny day.

****A new addition to my posts - A glimpse into my life: Two years ago, today.****

***Now, go title the picture.***

Bless me Lord for I may have sinned

I may have crossed your threshold with the maximum level of alcohol allowed in a place of worship due to many celebrations centered around plastic eggs, chocolate, family and friends.

Far too many easter eggs hunts were had with children I'm not sure belonged with our clan. Really, I don't know half of these kids.

Wait, I think these chicks belong to me. Here, Celia is scoping out the eggs to edge out the competition. Mainly, her sister.

Later that evening, a last minute get together with out of town friends caused my very painful affliction. Chosing sleep while postponing a visit from the Easter Bunny for later in the day seemed to be the best answer for all concerned.

As you might guess, the Easter Bunny visited sometime after lunch. Because she and her partner in crime, where not organized bunnies for early morning hunting.

**I wonder where she gets her competitive nature from?**

Sadly, Moira is happy with her five eggs found. Her sister was so supportive and giving in letting her "find" this paltry amount.

  I'm not quite sure but me thinks someone is strutting her prowess self. Again, I don't know where she gets this attitude.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I think I'm going to settle in for a long Spring's nap. A detox of sorts.

do you know what $36.00 will buy you?

NOT A MOTHER-OF-A-CULTURED-PEARL THING!

Every week (okay, every few days) I go to the store to pick up a few things as to not - OVER-BUY, OVER-SPEND AND OVER-EXTEND our bank account. During these jaunts, I notice every week EVERYTHING is going up exponentially.

Just six months ago, I was purchasing greener and more organic items for the family. Now?

I'm substituting my Horizon milk for generic bullshit to save $3.00 every few days while hoping and praying, my girls don't have 34 DD's by seven while starting their periods by eight.

Until recently, I was using Method laundry products. I've since switched back to the $5-6 dollars a bottle cheaper alternative. to save a buck.  to blow another hole in the O-zone, while making sure the local landfill includes my choices due to it's inability to degrade itself.

I can't afford better things for my family because come on, let's face it - WE'RE IN A RECESSION.

No one wants to come right and say it but I will. RECESSION, RECESSION, RECESSION!!!!

Something has to change and I truly doubt any transfer of power is going to do it.

So, I nominate myself. Make me the "Boss" of this depressing Country.

I know how to creatively balance a deficit budget. I know how to rob Peter to pay Paul. I know how to be a big 'Ol Bitch and bring down "bad behavior" using whatever tactic needed. I'd declare an "Escape from New York" state and send every bad guy there to fend for their putrid selves.  I'd declare no tax on food and would eliminate yearly auto tags. I would ensure every school system was like a private school. None of this "No child left behind" testing bullshit. I would ensure every public official's salary was that of a teacher while teacher's made more than poverty. Speaking of public officials, I would mandate deep investigative background checks while subjecting them to monthly polygraph tests to keep them on their toes.  I would do the same for myself because I have nothing to hide. 

I would do so much more than what has been done, what is being done and what will be done. I feel we, the consumer, the tax payer and the citizen lost power a long time ago. We let people we wouldn't even want to acknowledge as a "one of our own" family members; make decisions for us. In short, I think as a nation, we lost our integrity. This by far is the most humiliating result of all.

***end of, "she don't know what's she's talking about," rant.****

i say huka, you say hookah

In my last post, in which I razzled and dazzled you with my hair coloring prowess, I ended the post with a teaser. A teaser in which no one picked up as "she really might be serious with this statement."

Let me refresh your memory:

"Until next time:  How I procured an art exhibit while lounging in a Huka bar without showing any credentials."

Maybe this by-passed your attention due to the fact, I don't know how to spell Hookah. If I did, wouldn't you be truly worried about this mother of two? Let me state for the record, I did not partake in the hookah. I only discussed with several patrons on why the hell one would put their lips on something that 20 bajillion others had - even if the mouth piece is sanitized after every use. These mouthpieces were NOT disposable. Have these people heard of a major epidemic called, THE FLU? (and yes, I'm SO a mom.)

ANYWAY....during this sweeping adventure with one of my best of friends,

we happened to meet up with a strange guy in the said Hooka bar. We conversed with him after he repeatedly tried to enthrall us with corny phrases and in the end we sequestered him into a game of 20 questions. Strangely enough, he amused us with playing the name game, quickly left for ten minutes , returned to then produce a piece of paper. A check. We figured out (after a most steadfast inquisition) he owed my friend's husband (a ten + year old debt) $500.00. After this check was displayed (verified and number's were transcripted for future banking validity), we bought him a drink. Hell, it's not every night one meets someone who is trying to work out their Karmic soul.

More inane conversations were had,

my picture was taken in "free-form" art (let's not discuss my ass-chin or large and in charge nostrils),

another conversation was started about the local (or the lack of) art scene. While I espoused my VERY distant past of art accomplishments, "the dude" offered me an exhibit at his business in September. After I shot my disbelief across the table, which may or may not have included the Mojito I had been consuming, I began to decide this guy must be high on the purest of rock crack known on the street, named Bullshit. First paying an old debt off then offering an exhibit with no strings attached? Certifiably fried.

We left the bar with a promise I would email him the next week with my intention or as he said, "commitment" to the project.

I've yet to do it.  Why? I haven't produced anything in 10+ years that doesn't reek of commissioned suffering of which I wouldn't count one stroke as art.

The creative juice has been sucked dry from this sponge.  At the end of the day, I want to sanitize and plump up this sponge in hopes it can still function and last. To do the job again tomorrow. The used sponge isn't shiny or new - the design has long since faded from it's once pristine and jazzy exterior. It continues to swipe along doing the job no one else wants to while it stares jealously at the new and improved models displayed all around it.  It wonders how long it can last before it disintegrates; rendering itself useless.

On the flip side? I could always submit my children's art work in my place.