How I’m doing.

(In case you were wondering.)

Today, we went to Walmart to get:

1. Juice
2. Creamer
3. Vitamins
4. Margarine

On the way to the back of the store, we passed the baby section.

I gave it the finger, as hard as I could, the whole way by.

Never even looked in that direction.

Hand high up in the air, That Lone Finger stabbing relentlessly at the air that it was slicing through, I walked on by, emanating the directive.

You know. THE directive.

I think that’s right on par with where I should be in the healing process.**

**According to Lotus’s Handy Dandy 23423042394 Step Guide to Healing from being SUPER Frackin’ Pissed Off at the World at Large as well as Specific Elements of It in Particular, thank you very much.

Also, I have something(s) to share with you soon. Not now, because I don’t feel like it yet. But soon.

So there.

Yup. Spazzazoid.

After yesterday’s slight moderate okay, huge heart-attack moment, I’m trying to stop shaking like a dorkwad and breathe normally.  Why does something like that make me go all bat-turds?

Oh, yeah.  Because I’m a slightly moronic Spazzazoid.  Yes. I just made up a word.  Use it freely.

My plan for today was to keep the “meme drawer” clean and do a couple of these thingies I’ve been tagged for.  Because if you’ve been around for awhile, you have seen what can happen when I don’t keep the Meme Drawer Clean.  And if you haven’t been around awhile, feel free to click and find out, man.  But be warned.  That’s a shizzo-lotta crap to read about me. 

But hey! If you’re really into getting to know me better you can read about My Eights.  Or, if you’d just like to point and laugh at my stupidity… Get In Line.  Uh, I meant, you’re in luck, because you can now do that… with such wonderfully embarassing anecdotes as the “floating turd story” and finding out that you’re not alone if you have, indeed, sharted… just by reading this sexy post.

*ahem*

It’s also Thursday Thirteen, and dangit if if I didn’t get my Go-Go-Gadget Brain! in gear and decide to be the incredibly whizzomatic, geniusoriffic, and smartastical person I am (*snort*) by bringing you today’s…

7 Things Meme PLUS 6 Things Meme = Your Fabuloso Thursday Thirteen!

Holy turds, who knew I could add?

I was tagged for the 7 Things Meme by the following awesomeatious persons:
Napaboaniya
Christie
Kat
Vegan Mama

And for the 6 Things Meme by these wonderiffical peeps:
Sarie
Ray
Cookiebitch

 

13 Random Thoughts that floated through Sarcastic Mom’s head today:

1. Why.do.I.have.to.wake.up?

 

2. I’m totally unprepared for the first time I catch Braden eating a Booger.  Words of advice?

 

3. I wonder if it’s possible to vote for Coffee for President.

 

4. Why can’t groceries just regenerate themselves?

 

5. Kevin & Leroy are still touching me innapropriately.
Hi. This is my backfat.

6. Has anyone’s vag.ina actually ever fallen off?

Hm. I googled it (“vag.ina fell off”) and discovered 2 awesome things.
1. It doesn’t look like there are any documented cases of vag.inas falling off.
2. The #2 Google Hit for that search is on THIS SITE.  I’m putting that on my resume.

 

7. What’s that SMELL?

 

8. My hand just had to slip while I was checkin the diaper, didn’t it?  My finger just HAD to slip into the sh*t, didn’t it???

 

9. Poop should not be allowed to exist. (Then there wouldn’t be any Scatastrophes.)

 

10. Tabitha D’umo is still mocking me.  Die, whore!

 

11. I am a good mother.  Ignore the picture below and just maintain eye contact with me, damn you.

 

12. It’s really not that hard to ignore your child’s screaming when it’s coming from inside the closet on the other side of the house.  Really.

 

13. I don’t have to pull any cheap tricks to make people visit my website. It’s just because I’m such a good writer.
“The Rack”

Have a great (rest of) Thursday, friends!  And don’t forget… *insert words of wisdom*

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Nice Guy vs. Crazy Crotch Lady

A few quick notes:

Picked up the bow for John’s Christmas present today.

To the woman who saw me “trying it on,” I am sorry you had to see that.  Also, I am sorry your kids saw that, too, because I am sure they asked you, “Why was that lady holding a bow up to her privates?”  And it’s not like you needed ONE MORE question to answer from the kids.

To the man who ran all the way from the register to where my quick walkin’ booty had gotten by then, thank you SO MUCH for bringing me the two bags of groceries that I paid for and almost completely lost.  You reminded me that there are still nice people in the world.  Rock on, Mr. Running With Bags Man. I love you.

That is all.