Okay, so there I was, minding my own business trying to gear up for a great night dealing with the public at my local Starbucks when I saw this sign:

Try the drink of (certain) DEATH. Now with sprinkles!

That was written by my local friendly barista Wilhelm.

Here’s the thing…

This was written on the chalkboard you look at where you PICK UP your coffee. You’ve ordered, are invested (literally) in your foamy concoction that is in your hand or close to it and now you have to wonder whether the froth you are so enticed by is just some witches brew…

I knew there was something screwy about a $5 coffee.

The fact that they have to give everyone working there an important name like “barista” instead of coffee bee-otch should have been a clue…

Luckily, mine didn’t have sprinkles.

And it was delicious.

in no particular order…

1. 22 year olds who think that power trips are cool and insist on trying to control me…about dishware no less.

2. News about the democraps democrats still duking it out…just pick one already! A monkey could be better than McCain!

3. And have you seen Obama’s crazy-ass preacher?!

4. Britney Spears comeback–I mean the one day she pulls her shit together to ACT–too bad she can’t pull it together to be a MOM. I’m sure her sons will really appreciate her skills one day.

5. People who brag about how much they can eat–just saying that made me gain weight.

6. I got rid of my DVR and can’t remember when any good shows are on so I end up watching the freakin’ Food Network 24/7. I’m actually sick of looking at butter–who knew that could happen?

7. Getting papercuts on my tongue from licking envelopes…apparently the horror stories of rat poop and the extra 10 calories it takes to seal an envelope aren’t enough to dissuade me so I buy the ready-seals…

8. The Dainty Flower grabbing my girls, twisting them with ninja-like force, and saying, “What are these?” She now thinks they’re called, “OW!’s” btw.

9. Play-Doh…in my carpet, daughter’s hair, oh my God it’s everywhere.

10. Reading Dr. Seuss all the time, so soon you start to talk in rhyme.

Okay, so new job working out, but am exhausted so bear with me…

Here’s the thing…I have a new nickname.

As if  being known as Mommy 24/7 wasn’t enough, I now work with 20 year olds who can’t believe that I am able to “keep up” with them, tell me that I look great “for my age” and who insist that while they have cool names like “Shake”, “JG”, and “Remy”, I am bequeathed “Mama”.

—————————————whatever————————————-

Somehow this is an instant initiation though and is a good thing.

I’m not convinced.

I think I am going to insist that they at least add “Hot” to the beginning…

(Oh, and by the way, if one of them even gets it in their head to call me “Big Mama” I am going to F%&*#$#@! kill them.)

just sayin’…

Enter Carly Simon song “New Jerusalem”….Let the river run….

Okay, so for those that don’t know, I have recently acquired a new J-O-B.

And so, I am now dealing with the public WAY more and will be providing a whole new commentary on why I hate love people, and all the ways they can suck it that they add meaning to my life.

So I apologize if my blogging has been slow, I am not used to being up past 9pm and now am up until midnight on a regular basis. I feel like the guy in “Fight Club” when he is in front of the copier and talking about insomnia…I’m here, but I’m not at the same time.

On the upside, I’m so busy that I am forgetting to eat AND my liver is ecstatic because it is getting a minute to breath on it’s own.

So that’s all that’s fit to print here….once I get some sleep I’ll have a lot to say about everything once again….

I have a huge girl crush on Kathy Griffin.

Love. Her.

And so, in a desperate attempt for fame and glory–actually, 2 tickets to her show and a possible meet & greet, I have prepared a little afternoon delight!

You remember “Copacabana”?

Great!

Be sure to sing real loud!

KATHYCABANA

Her name is Kathy, she’s Kathy Griffin,

With her luxurious red hair, and her gays all over there,

She’ll entertain fans, and loves to please us…

She earned that Emmy on her own, and not due to baby Jesus.

A big attention whore, we laugh right on the floor–

She’s had some work, but she looks fabulous,

Who could ask for more?

 

She is Kathy, she’s Kathy Griffin,

The hottest shit she’s always dishin’,

Oh it’s Kathy, she’s Kathy Griffin,

Tickets to Mohegan are what have me dreamin’

Oh please Kathy, consider this…

 

 

It could be Britney, Or Paris Hilton,

Renee Zellweger, Gwyneth too–Ms. Aikan you know we love you!

And when you’re finished, we’re doubled over…

No matter just how big the star–Kathy, who DO you think you are?!

Larry King, Seacrest too, and then there’s Paula Abdul,

Lohan, McGraw, Iraq & Oprah

We’re so proud of you!

 

 

Oh you’re Kathy, you’re Kathy Griffin,

Giving every celeb ass a kickin’

C’mon sweet Kathy…I’m so not kiddin’

Life is a penis when you’re not on the D-List,

Oh those tickets…..please give them to me!

 

 

(Kathy…she’s Kathy Griffin)

(Kathy she’s Kathy Griffin) (She’s Kathy Griffin, ahh ahh ahh ahh)

(Ahh ahh ahh ahh Kathy she’s Kathy Griffin)

(She’s always talkin’, the A-list she’s stalkin’)

(Bravo’s own D-List, I want to give her a kiss)

 

 

Her name is Kathy, she is an actress,

From her Slim Shady video, to TBS her skills will go,

Life on the D-List, we’re Bravo watchin’

Regardless of this song and dance, I am your biggest straight girl fan!

I’d love those two hot seats, perhaps a meet and greet?

Kathy I think that you’re a genius!

Make my dreams come true!

 

 

Oh please Kathy, please Kathy Griffin,

I’m down on my knees and I’m beggin’,

C’mon now Kathy, take heed and hear this…

No matter how this ends, I think we could be friends

Oh those tickets…could they be for me?

 

Could they be for me?

Please Kathy Griffin

Please Kathy Griffin….

 

Yes, it’s true. I quite possibly have too much time on my hands…I’ll let you know if I win…and don’t ask to go–I’m takin’ my fellow “KG lova” Kristen.

So there I was, minding my own business, clipping coupons and fantasizing about how many women would want to be me this week as my long my register tape kept spilling over with grocery savings and I would pay $.03 for $264 in purchases at the grocery store, drinking iced tea and having lovely adult conversation on a random Monday afternoon…

The Dainty Flower and her BFF were outside playing and we (other Mommy included–not referring to myself in plural…anymore) thought it would be fun to give them a bucket and let them water the flowers.

The quiet play, the very cute watering, it was bliss.

Then it got REAL quiet.

Dangerous quiet.

A peer out the window by Mommy yielded a visual of the dainty flower peering from behind a large tree saying, “Your Mom’s coming!” in the frantic tone of a 4 year old with her hand stuck in a cookie jar.

We abruptly hoisted ourselves (insert crashing dish noise here) out of our fantasy world where 4 year olds can take care of themselves and we can luxuriate eating lunch, clipping coupons, and having a lovely glass of iced tea without worry.

And so, here’s what’s up when we get there:

The Dainty Flower is wet all over her legs.

BFF is pulling up her pants.

The bucket is now refilled with interesting liquid.

……………………………………………………….*sigh*……………………………………………………..

It is true.

They were peeing into the bucket.

In the backyard.

That faces all the neighbors.

Except apparently my daughter has bad aim.

We either need charm school or target practice around here…

So I have been thinking about my very celebrity life…you know, wiping bottoms–or at least keeping markers out of them, laundry, cooking, cleaning, my very glamorous job in the cosmetics industry, blog writing, movie watching, wine drinking (or vodka, or alcohol…who’s picky?), book reading, etc.–and I have come up with a list of actresses who I think should consider playing me in my autobiographical movie, “Is this too much gloss?”.

Here they are, in no specific order:

Drew Barrymore: because she smells good…even Oprah says so!

Jessica Rabbit: because she’s not bad…she’s just drawn that way.

Caroline Rea: because she looks like me.

Kathleen Turner: because she is my kind of mom.

Meg Ryan: because the majority of the 90’s I bleached & cut in her honor.

John Travolta: because she brings out my sparkling personality.

Kathy Griffin: because she is one funny bee-atch.

Wonder Woman: because so much of my days are a balance only worthy of bullet repelling bracelets, a magic lasso, invisible jet, super high jumps, a fantastic 3-turn spinning transformation, and let’s face it…she has my thighs.

So here’s what’s up:

The Dainty Flower is giving me mixed messages and now I’m anxiety ridden.

In one breath she is explaining how only girl mosquitoes bite people and that boy mosquitoes drink pollem, yes, with an “m” and it’s so cute that I don’t have the heart to tell her that a. it’s polleN, and b. they really drink nectar, and the next minute she is smearing herself with hot fudge and calling herself a sundae.

Then, at dance class…There is tons of cuteness in the costume…but instead of twirling and gracefulness during soothing classical music, we think it’s way more fun to hang on the bar, disrupt the class by running around, and tell everyone to move “faster, FASTER!” with the voracity of Debbie Allen in Fame. (We stopped attending and strangely the teacher has not BEGGED us to come back yet.)

Cooking with Mommy is always fun. She is able to hull and cut strawberries (with a knife mind you, ’cause we have MAD skills) and I am glowing with pride…yet when I turn around she is crying because she tried to put the tops in her eyes to have “strawberry eyes” and now the juice is stinging them.

At bathtime she is able to wash, play, and entertain herself for an hour–”Go away Mommy!”–and then I turn to look and she is sucking on her soapy washcloth fresh from a good bottom scrubbing.

She can name every color in her crayola box, yet wonders why they all taste the same…

She raids my tampon box and uses them as microphones…

……………………………………………………*sigh*………………………………………………………..

So here’s the thing…

Exactly where is the line that divides thinking “outside the box” genius or just retardation?

I am certified in Special Education and I don’t have an answer.

Everyone thinks that their child is “gifted”, and yet, are the Special Ed classrooms not teeming over?

I’m thinkin’ that the line between Forrest Gump and Einstein isn’t very wide at all.

However, if asked, The Dainty Flower is obviously gifted.

So she enjoys the many stinks of her body, loves putting random objects in her nose, licking people, and has walked around the house naked carrying a marker in her butt.

She’s just gifted comedically.

Now I just have to find the preschool attached to the “Laugh Factory” and I’ll be all set…

or, Why I sit alone at the movies.

1. Meet Joe Black–is there anything more laughter inspiring than Brad Pitt being hit by a bus? I wore out my VHS tape rewinding that scene! That’s just good entertainment.

2. The 6th Sense: “Don’t tell me it tastes funny. You know mommy doesn’t like that.”–Nothing says home cookin’ like a little Drano Surprise!

3. Pulp Fiction–I love when that guy gets shot “by accident” in the back of the car…it makes me laugh every time when the blood hits Travolta in the face.

4. Willy Wonka (the new one)–”If you leave now, don’t expect me to be here when you get back.”–Not only is the father gone…but the ENTIRE ROW HOUSE is missing! I couldn’t believe no one else got the joke!

5. The Cell–I LOVE when Vincent D’Onofrio is hoisting up intestines via crank system…I can’t imagine why was I the only one laughing…

6. Silence of the Lambs–”It rubs the lotion on its’ skin…or else it gets the hose again. That’s right Precious it will get the hose! (Ruff!)”–classic.

7. Hannibal–I horrified audiences when I laughed out loud when Anthony Hopkins ate brains out of Ray Liotta’s head…not a crowd pleaser.

8. Hannibal–Again? I know, but I just COULDN’T BELIEVE my eyes when he fed the face to the dogs…laughter so innapropriate…

9. Brokeback Mountain–seriously, I thought all those “sticky fumblings” in the tent were going to make me pee my pants. I’ve heard better noises in a Porky’s movie…”I can’t quit you”–didn’t he sound just like Billy Bob Thorton in Switchblade? “I like the way YOU talk…”

10. Finally, I would love to give a shout-out to ANY movie where Betty White uses profanity or racial slurs. It’s like listening to my Grandma every time and I just can’t wrap my head around it…so I laugh.

I watch with anticipation as they scan over the bodies…I ooh and aah with delight as they rub up and down in gentle swirling motions…the camera pans over hands, legs, and bodies and I can’t look away from the exhilarating heat on the screen.

My eyes are fixated on the supple skin, the smooth breasts, the ample thighs…

Then the massage of oils…

Finally, the plunge–entering into every orifice voraciously over and over again…filling up until almost bursting…

can’t. stop. watching.

I feel like I’m in the room…everything turns visceral…I imagine with all my senses: feeling like a voyeur, almost tasting, wishing to touch, wanting to smell, listening to the triumphant sounds of glory when it is finished like a bell ringing…

Gasping just a little bit and biting my lip as the completed act fills the screen.

Running to the computer to see if I can download more like a drug addict needing a fix…

I HAVE to have that…..

cornish hen recipe.

Food Network = Food Porn

What did you think I was talking about?