It's hot
06-30-12 | 5:00 a.m.
I suppose I must address the heat. Even though it makes me want to slam people in the face with a Buick when they start bitching about the heat. However, to pretend you aren�t aware that birds are falling from the sky like Oven-Stuffer Roasters is just plain silly.
Okay, I addressed it. The rampaging outbreak of heat-induced swamp ass will not be over any time soon. And I will take responsibility for my small part in global warming since I was 13 years old in 1987 and obviously blew my own small hole in the ozone layer with Aqua Net.
In other news, my younger son JBean has recently had his tonsils forcibly removed from his throat via sharp surgical instruments. Before he had this done, he�d contracted strep throat 6 times in 4 months and his tonsils were roughly the size of watermelons leaving him an airway just about big enough for fruit flies to crawl through. Now, I knew he was going to be a big fucking baby about it because he�s the baby of the family and, like every other man in my life, a total momma�s boy. He�s 14 now so of course he�s so socially, emotionally and physically insecure you just want to punch him. Or hug him, it depends on whether or not I�ve had coffee.
At first, I was all manner of nurturing. I had to be, the doctor told me he was to remain relaxed and not do unnecessary physical activity the first week for sure, slowly progressing to more activity and more solid food after that for another week.
Week one is over.
But in that one week, my tender loving care has created a fucking need machine with whirling teeth and dangerous gears. During week one, he�d taken to clapping to get my attention. Which, was fine last week, he can�t really yell for me and he wasn�t supposed to be running around doing shit.
This week, he gets up when he hears someone has shown up at the house, gets a drink, makes a mild nuisance of himself because he�s nosy and wants sympathy (like dear old dad) and then goes into the living room, plops on his ass�
And claps for me.
Mother. Fucker.
My husband snickered at me, I guess because he forgot I have the power to make his life a living hell with his dinner and crushed laxatives.
Patience blown, I whip into the living room and JBean holds out a Popsicle wrapper.
�Can you throw this away?�
�Do you want me to insert my Nikes into your anus so far I tickle the spot where your tonsils used to be?�
I always carefully select my choice of words. Right after shit comes flying out of my mouth. I always go, �fuck you should have said �I think you�re feeling well enough, my son, to partake in life�s day to day activities and end this farce of a ploy for unneeded sympathy thusly releasing me from the distasteful urge to perform unnecessary acts of crude internal surgery with footwear.��
Either way, he decided anal sex was something he�d wait until spring break 2018 his sophomore year in college, Cancun, Mexico and a transvestite prostitute named ChiChi for, because he peeled his ass of the couch in a hurry and threw his fucking wrapper away.
Then boohoo�ed to his father. Which is like boohoo�ing to your siblings when your Dad spanked you. Really, REALLY not going to get a stitch of sympathy. My husband is just glad it wasn�t him that did something retarded for once.
In closing, I�ll leave you with a short list of my household Quotes of The Week (completely out of context) which we keep on the refrigerator.
~ �450?!? FUCK!�
~ �Why was Hitler such a dope?�
~ �Cody, you don�t listen very well. � Mom, he�s a cat. Hello?"
~ �He�s holding his dick and screaming teriyaki.�
~ �He knows what he�s doing. It�s the Polish method.�
I put the cool in ejacoolation - 08-17-14
STFU - 09-08-12
Be careful, people - 07-17-12
bow chicka bow wow - 07-03-12
Phoning it in - 07-01-12
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