A Toddler's Words of Wisdom

Lil J is full of....wisdom. Today, she said, "Snakes are extremely shy creatures. You can't just walk up to them and go 'coochie-coo' or you might frighten them."

I bet y'all didn't know that shit, did you?! You can thank Lil J next time you find yourself in the company of a snake and you feel the sudden urge to say, "coochie-coo" to it. I'm pretty sure that goes for anteaters, too.
Memories are a MOFO

My sister remembers all sorts of crazy shit, but tends to forget the biggest details. That shit gets on my nerves, because then she gets my mind all twisted up trying to figure out whatever it is she's talking about. I especially hate when she brings up stuff that happened when I was in high school and college, because, frankly, I spent most of those years in a drunken stupor, my life full of all kinds of debauchery. How the hell am I supposed to remember shit that I probably didn't even realize was happening at the time? I sometimes find myself going through old boxes, reading letters, looking for pictures and crap like that because she gets a thought in my head that starts driving me nuts.

Sis: What was the name of that restaurant you and Mel went to in 1992 that had the really good noodles?

Me: WTF?

Sis: Remember? It was over there around Shepherd....near that Sears.

Me: 1992, really?! I have no fucking clue.

Sis: But I remember you pointing it out to Mom when we were going to Sears one day.

Me: We haven't gone to Sears with Mom since we were kids.

Sis: Yeah, like 1992.

Me: You're a freak of nature.

Sis: So, you don't remember?

Me: No, but now I want some noodles!!!!

That's how our conversations go. I have been thinking about Vietnamese noodles now non-stop for days! And for some reason, I just HAVE to have the ones from whatever fucking place she was talking about me going to in 1992. So, I call my friend, Mel, and that bitch thinks I've lost my mind. And Mom can't remember what she had for dinner yesterday, much less what noodle place I talked to her about in 1992. I'd really like to find these damn noodles and strangle my sister with them.
This is why I don't go to church

My mom convinced me to go to church on Sunday. Wait. Actually, she GUILTED me into going to church (typical Catholic bullshit). Evidently, it was my aunt and uncle's 40th wedding anniversary and they were going to get blessed or something. And, as if it weren't bad enough that mass started at 8:00 a.m. (which meant waking up at 5:30 to pick Mom up at 7:00 to be there on time), Mom conveniently forgot to tell us that the shit would be in SPANISH and that we had to sit in the second goddamned pew (which meant no texting or bubble game playing). When my sister and I spotted the damn mariachis approaching, we knew right away that they weren't planning on singing shit in English. Sis gave me a terrified look and I glared at Mom, who acted dumb founded like she had noooo idea what our problem was. See, we don't mind going to mass once in a while, but when we are tricked into it, that shit better be low key and in ENGLISH. If you've never been to a Spanish mass, those people get all crazy nuts with the singing and crying. And they like to hug and kiss and whatnot. It ain't fun, y'all. It borders on being creepy and twilight zone-y. And, when your fluently spanish-speaking mother leans over to you and asks if you understand what the fuck the priest just said, you know you're in trouble. Needless to say, it was the longest hour E-V-E-R. And we couldn't even sneak out of there after the damn wedding blessing because the damn priest saved that shit for the end of the service to torture the hell out of us. He must have know we have the devil in us... I bet he was trying to exorcise us or someshit with all the mumbo jumbo that even Mom couldn't understand. And who the hell stays married for FORTY effing years these days?! WTF is my aunt/uncle's deal? They haven't even lived together for an entire year straight through at a time...so I don't think it counts. They just friggen lied to baby Jesus about the big 4-0. And one of my other uncles FELL ASLEEP during the homily. My mom poked ME and pointed over to him so that I could see he was asleep (and snoring softly) and she smiled. Like she thought that shit was cute or something. I asked her if she thought I should tap him or something...and she was all...noooo...leave him alone, poor thing. WTF?! When we were kids and we fell asleep in church or acted up, we got pinched. And I ain't talking a soft gentle pinch, I'm talking one of the titty-twister pinches that bring tears to your eyes and makes you pee your panties a little. It was payback time, damnit! So, I reached over and pinched the shit out of his arm...and twisted. Heh. I didn't expect him to scream and let out a fart, though. Yeah. I hadn't figured on that happening. Then one of my cousin's kids laughs his ass off and the whole goddamned congregation stared at us. My mom was mortified. My sister acted like she wasn't related to us. Then, my grandma let out some snoring snorts because that bitch was asleep, too!

I'm soooo sorry, 8 pound, 6 ounce baby Jesus. I didn't mean to offend the sanctity of the mass, but shit! Those fuckers weren't even paying attention to the gospel...someone had to do something about it. It's just a shame it had to be me. You're welcome. I did my duty for the year. Don't expect me there at Christmas.
Lipstick Lesbians and Tractors

Each night, at the dinner table, I ask members of my family how their day went. The best stories, come from Lil J, of course.

Me: Lil J, what did you do at school today?

Lil J: I went to my new class and played and I was very nice to my teacher. (I take this to mean that sometimes she isn't so nice)

Me: Did you have fun?

Lil J: Yeah, except Justin didn't want to share with me. (Which means she probably snatched a toy out of that poor kid's hands and made him cry)

Me: Ohhhh, is Justin your boyfriend?

Lil J: NOOOOO! I don't like boys, I like girls!

At this point in the conversation, J choked on her drink, I laughed and Hubber was all, "yeah, that's good!" He obviously was thinking like a daddy who didn't want his little girl to like boys because boys are trouble. J and I immediately took it to mean that maybe Lil J is gay... like a lipstick lesbian who likes tutu's and dresses and make-up and purses, but who also has a strong attachment to tractors and dump trucks and fire engines and toy cars. I don't care, either way. I think she'd make a good lesbian.
I Have A Feeling Prayers Don't Work This Way

Over lunch today, a friend and I chatted about what we thought the best punishment would be for our a common enemy. We decided that if we prayed hard enough, maybe he would come down with a serious case of explosive diareah. This would make us so happy we'd consider going to church more than once a year. But, should this bout of squirts occur on a plane, mid-flight, we would be so ecstatic we might even put up a nativity set at Christmas!

His experience would be compounded in the air due to the altitude and cramped quarters. We pictured him, sweating his ass off, tortured, on a tiny toilet seat, trying to steady himself as the plane experienced turbulence. Then, as he tried to return to his seat and everyone was staring at the culprit who stunk the place up, an explosion would occur in his pants and drip down his leg. Then, people all around would start vomiting on him as he tried to reach his seat.

And we'd be thanking 8lb, 6oz baby Jesus for answering our prayer!
TMI Thursday: Pubes, blood and poop, oh my!

Hello, reader! And I mean that quite literally, as I’m afraid I only have one reader. Besides myself, of course. I’m not THAT pathetic. Geez.

Anyway, I’m going to try something different for this post by following the instructions of one of my favorite bloggers. On Thursdays, she asks people to share a story that others might consider to be TMI (too much information).

TMI Thursday

So, here we go.

Someone using the ladies room at my place of employment love, Love, LOVES to deposit DNA samples on the toilet seats for others to admire. And, I ain’t just talking blood here, people – although the culprit has left globs of red, gooey chunks on the seats, too – I’m talking HAIRS. Not head hairs. Gnarly, pube hairs. Long ones. Which makes me wonder, first of all, why the hell are these hairs so long? And secondly, how do they just FALL out onto the seat? I don’t get it. Does this person rub on their doodah as their standing to button their pants? I have also found shit streaks on the toilet seats. SHIT STREAKS. Like right where an ass crack would be. So, either someone pooped standing up and missed the hole, or they didn’t wipe properly and their shitty ass rubbed up against the seat as they were standing. Who the hell does these things?! One day I walked around the office sniffing everyone to see if any of them smelled like shit. Also, before I sit in ANY office chair, I check for stray pubes. No sense taking chances.

Hmmm. Maybe this guy is roaming our building...but it doesn't explain the pube hair...unless he hocked up a hairball....a pube hairball. Where has his mouth been?!