Wednesday, September 26, 2012
Monday, November 14, 2011
Camel Toes and Chinese Junk
Kids have a tendency to say some pretty funny things...even when they don't intend to.I often wonder if, some day, they will grow up to be sitcom writers. Some of the things they say and do is definitely funnier than most of the garbage-filled, short-lived sitcoms on TV today. I offer the following snippets:
My oldest son and I had just returned from getting his braces on (irrelevant, I know), when out of nowhere, he says, "Mom, I have a question. What's a camel toe?" This is the part where I looked at the child as if he had 3 heads and said to him, "Uhhh...well...it's uh.......why do you want to know?" Now, let me state that I generally do ask my children why they want to know something so that I can determine exactly how much information needs to be given to suffice their inquisitive little minds. Anyway....he tells me, "You know that song 'Come Together' by the Beatles?" To which I reply, "Yes........" He says, "Well, they say it in there and I didn't know what it meant."
At this point, I'm trying my best (and failing miserably) not to laugh at the child. He was dead serious and waiting patiently for my answer. I did what I could to muster up the determination to answer the boy with the most mom-ish answer I could find in my brain, which was currently occupied trying to run quickly through the lyrics of this song trying to figure out which verse contained anything about a camel toe!! Instead of answering him directly, I say to him, "I'm pretty sure it doesn't say 'camel toe'" He assures me it does. I ask him to sing me the part of the song that says it. He says he can't remember which part. So, I tell him to do what any normal mom would tell him to do, "Google the lyrics and show me where it says that".
He Googles the lyrics and proceeds to tell me, "This one must not be right because it's not on here". YA THINK?!?! At this point, I can't help but laugh. Obnoxiously. For an extended period of time. Poor kid is still just waiting for an answer. So, I obliged by telling him, "You know how when a girl's pants are too tight?.....well, it's um.....let's just say it's a wedgie in the front....." You could see in his eyes that the proverbial light bulb had just gone off. Then I proceed to say to him, "Now do you see why I was positive that THAT is NOT what they said in that song?!"
Moving on.....This story needs prefaced with the following information: Any time a toy or something breaks around here, a certain member of the family likes to call it "Chinese junk". Being that most things, these days, are made in China, I guess it's appropriate to assume that the junk came from there.
This past week, my youngest son went to dinner at a local Japanese hibachi steak house with my Mother-In-Law for a family member's birthday. I suppose my son was not all that impressed with the display as he kept getting up from his seat and hiding behind his Grandmother's chair. At one point during the routine,the chef was balancing and juggling (or attempting to) a raw egg with his spatula. Apparently, there was some miscommunication between the chef and the egg because the egg fell to its untimely demise and broke. My son, didn't hesitate to spew out, with unfaltering conviction, "Chinese Junk!" The chef, whom, I assume, was Japanese, clearly heard my son's opinion of this egg and quickly responded, "That's right! Chinese Junk!"
I suppose I should just be thankful that A:) I wasn't there and B.) It wasn't said at the China Buffet!
Kids!
My oldest son and I had just returned from getting his braces on (irrelevant, I know), when out of nowhere, he says, "Mom, I have a question. What's a camel toe?" This is the part where I looked at the child as if he had 3 heads and said to him, "Uhhh...well...it's uh.......why do you want to know?" Now, let me state that I generally do ask my children why they want to know something so that I can determine exactly how much information needs to be given to suffice their inquisitive little minds. Anyway....he tells me, "You know that song 'Come Together' by the Beatles?" To which I reply, "Yes........" He says, "Well, they say it in there and I didn't know what it meant."
At this point, I'm trying my best (and failing miserably) not to laugh at the child. He was dead serious and waiting patiently for my answer. I did what I could to muster up the determination to answer the boy with the most mom-ish answer I could find in my brain, which was currently occupied trying to run quickly through the lyrics of this song trying to figure out which verse contained anything about a camel toe!! Instead of answering him directly, I say to him, "I'm pretty sure it doesn't say 'camel toe'" He assures me it does. I ask him to sing me the part of the song that says it. He says he can't remember which part. So, I tell him to do what any normal mom would tell him to do, "Google the lyrics and show me where it says that".
He Googles the lyrics and proceeds to tell me, "This one must not be right because it's not on here". YA THINK?!?! At this point, I can't help but laugh. Obnoxiously. For an extended period of time. Poor kid is still just waiting for an answer. So, I obliged by telling him, "You know how when a girl's pants are too tight?.....well, it's um.....let's just say it's a wedgie in the front....." You could see in his eyes that the proverbial light bulb had just gone off. Then I proceed to say to him, "Now do you see why I was positive that THAT is NOT what they said in that song?!"
Moving on.....This story needs prefaced with the following information: Any time a toy or something breaks around here, a certain member of the family likes to call it "Chinese junk". Being that most things, these days, are made in China, I guess it's appropriate to assume that the junk came from there.
This past week, my youngest son went to dinner at a local Japanese hibachi steak house with my Mother-In-Law for a family member's birthday. I suppose my son was not all that impressed with the display as he kept getting up from his seat and hiding behind his Grandmother's chair. At one point during the routine,the chef was balancing and juggling (or attempting to) a raw egg with his spatula. Apparently, there was some miscommunication between the chef and the egg because the egg fell to its untimely demise and broke. My son, didn't hesitate to spew out, with unfaltering conviction, "Chinese Junk!" The chef, whom, I assume, was Japanese, clearly heard my son's opinion of this egg and quickly responded, "That's right! Chinese Junk!"
I suppose I should just be thankful that A:) I wasn't there and B.) It wasn't said at the China Buffet!
Kids!
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
19 kids and STILL counting....
I'm sure no one who follows the show 19 Kids and Counting is the least bit surprised at the Duggars latest announcement....they are expecting.....again. How, exactly, is one supposed to react when the Duggars announce for the 20th time that they are having yet another child. I mean, surely, the element of surprise was lost somewhere around child number 8, 9, 16......Not that it's any of my business, well, actually, it is....you put your life on television, that kind of makes it my business....BUT.....I think it's getting a little out of control. What the heck are you thinking having 20 children? And her poor, poor uterus. Ugh. That thing has got to be begging her for mercy at this point! Nearly 20 years of being pregnant, I think it's high time she let that thing retire! It's done its work. Let it rest! It needs a vacation!
And what in the world are they going to name this 20th child of theirs? If you follow the show at all, you know that all of their children have names that begin with the letter "J". I'm pretty sure they're exhausting all the options at this point. There aren't many names left. They've used nearly all of the possible choices.
I wonder if they'd like to take suggestions for possible names. I have a few. In no particular order, here they are: "JimBobputthatthingaway", "JoeKing" (as in, you've got to be freaking joking), "Justgivemethebirthcontrolandnobodygetshurt" and my personal favorite, "Jesuswhat'sthematterwithus"
Honestly, there needs to come a point (very soon) where they STOP counting. This could, theoretically go on FOREVER...I mean, 19 kids...and counting. I'm pretty sure that the Duggars must not have gotten the message that the goal was not to count to infinity and beyond. And I'd like to know what her doctor's advice to her is. I can't imagine that it's "Sure, keep popping them out like you're a Pez Dispenser. I highly recommend abusing your body that way to ALL my patients". I'm sure, somewhere deep down, her doctor must be thinking, "You know...that thing has seen its day......like 15 kids ago. Give it a rest!"
To each his own, I guess, but, I have to wonder if it's ever going to stop. At the rate they are going, they will, most likely, account for half the population in their town on the next Census.
So, congratulations, I guess, to the Duggars and their ridiculously large small city of a family.
And what in the world are they going to name this 20th child of theirs? If you follow the show at all, you know that all of their children have names that begin with the letter "J". I'm pretty sure they're exhausting all the options at this point. There aren't many names left. They've used nearly all of the possible choices.
I wonder if they'd like to take suggestions for possible names. I have a few. In no particular order, here they are: "JimBobputthatthingaway", "JoeKing" (as in, you've got to be freaking joking), "Justgivemethebirthcontrolandnobodygetshurt" and my personal favorite, "Jesuswhat'sthematterwithus"
Honestly, there needs to come a point (very soon) where they STOP counting. This could, theoretically go on FOREVER...I mean, 19 kids...and counting. I'm pretty sure that the Duggars must not have gotten the message that the goal was not to count to infinity and beyond. And I'd like to know what her doctor's advice to her is. I can't imagine that it's "Sure, keep popping them out like you're a Pez Dispenser. I highly recommend abusing your body that way to ALL my patients". I'm sure, somewhere deep down, her doctor must be thinking, "You know...that thing has seen its day......like 15 kids ago. Give it a rest!"
To each his own, I guess, but, I have to wonder if it's ever going to stop. At the rate they are going, they will, most likely, account for half the population in their town on the next Census.
So, congratulations, I guess, to the Duggars and their ridiculously large small city of a family.
Tuesday, November 8, 2011
Social Media Stupidity Epidemic Takes Nation By Storm
Social Media has taken quite a hold on the world. It seems there's not a minute that goes by that there isn't mention of one form of it or another. It's in commercials, printed advertisements, and you rarely hear a conversation between two people where it isn't mentioned a time or two. The problem is, it seems to be making people dumber-er. Yep, dumber-er. It's true. All the abbreviations and lazy lingo used on these forums seems to have replaced normal English. It makes me wonder how many times these people were actually dropped on their heads as infants. I mean, I get the occasional typo here and there, but this is far worse than typos. This is, perhaps, an non-curable epidemic of sorts. There definitely should be a vaccination in the works for this mass outbreak of stupidity and nonsensical talk! If man could come up with a vaccine to prevent Polio, surely someone, somewhere could come up with one to cure this garbage, right?! It would be epic! It would be a miracle of modern medicine, that's for sure!
I have to admit, I have had quite a bit of fun with the aforementioned dumbassery. I'm not gonna lie, I have literally laughed out loud at some of this crap. Just the other day, one post, in particular, provided hours of laughter as it stated that this person had "Chillopett" for lunch. Of course, my first thought was, "what in the hell is a Chillopett?!" Then the ideas started rolling in, complete with imagery in my head of what this lunch could have possibly consisted of....Maybe a hybrid of a Chia Pet and a Pillow Pet? Maybe a frozen Pillow Pet? Maybe it's a Pillow Pet on a Chalupa shell?And how would one garnish that? How is that cooked? Can that be adapted to be made in a slow-cooker? Maybe this chick has PICA and I shouldn't be laughing at the fact that she is eating stuffed animals and ceramic planters? What the hell is a Chillopett? After an extensive internet search and a few phone calls, I still don't know. I didn't have the heart to ask. I simply responded with a thumbs up and an "mmm....sounds good!"
Truth be told, I really find it rather sad that some people have, apparently, completely forgotten how to speak and spell correctly. I offer the following, real-life example: "...it's out of conetroll..." I really actually saw this used in place of, what I can only assume was supposed to be "control"...I had a lot of fun with that one, too....Here, I'll show you:
The moral of the story is: The world is going to Hell in a hand-basket (whatever that means) and I think social media and texting are partially to blame. The other part, we'll go ahead and keep blaming on the whole dropped on the head as a baby thing.
I have to admit, I have had quite a bit of fun with the aforementioned dumbassery. I'm not gonna lie, I have literally laughed out loud at some of this crap. Just the other day, one post, in particular, provided hours of laughter as it stated that this person had "Chillopett" for lunch. Of course, my first thought was, "what in the hell is a Chillopett?!" Then the ideas started rolling in, complete with imagery in my head of what this lunch could have possibly consisted of....Maybe a hybrid of a Chia Pet and a Pillow Pet? Maybe a frozen Pillow Pet? Maybe it's a Pillow Pet on a Chalupa shell?And how would one garnish that? How is that cooked? Can that be adapted to be made in a slow-cooker? Maybe this chick has PICA and I shouldn't be laughing at the fact that she is eating stuffed animals and ceramic planters? What the hell is a Chillopett? After an extensive internet search and a few phone calls, I still don't know. I didn't have the heart to ask. I simply responded with a thumbs up and an "mmm....sounds good!"
Truth be told, I really find it rather sad that some people have, apparently, completely forgotten how to speak and spell correctly. I offer the following, real-life example: "...it's out of conetroll..." I really actually saw this used in place of, what I can only assume was supposed to be "control"...I had a lot of fun with that one, too....Here, I'll show you:
 | |||
| Cone Troll |
Monday, November 7, 2011
Hotlines and Help Groups
I'm digging out the notebooks. The ones where I have started writing things and then left them to collect dust, those notebooks. I have several of them. Words, words, everywhere. Those words I had intended to "someday" put together in an organized manner and call it a book. Those words that have sat, un-viewed, untouched for at least two years. They need to go somewhere, so why not here?!
Do you really think that a support group for sex addicts is really a good idea? I mean, seriously. What do you think happens when 30 grown men and women who, through their own admissions (i.e., Hi, I'm Joe and I'm addicted to doing it), are put together in a semi-intimate setting discussing their trials and tribulations in overcoming their addiction? Can you imagine the scene in the parking garage after that meeting? Ugh.
And where are the support groups for those of us with less universally recognized addictions? For instance, what about Hair-coloring Addicts Anonymous (aptly abbreviated HAA!! since that's the reaction given by most who come in contact with a recently home-colored head of hair)? I believe this is a serious issue, which is widely overlooked, that is facing our great nation!
Millions of women trek to their local drug store armed with nothing more than $10 and an unreasonable expectation of looking like the bitch on the hair color box. I mean, I don't know the girl, personally, but surely she must be one. What with her perfectly hued hair and all. What should be highly guarded and perhaps even treated as a form of chemical warfare, is readily available on the shelves for any ill-prepared woman to purchase. You should, at the very least, be required to have a permit or a degree in chemistry to use this crap!
After making the trek home, it's off to the bathroom, which, suddenly, is turned into a dangerous chemical laboratory (as in, the warning label on the box which clearly states to never leave the mixture in the closed container for risk the bottle may explode!) I...er, um...I mean, those other women, begin the task at hand with the eager anticipation of beautiful, lustrous, perfectly tinted hair as seen on the packaging. Open. Pour. Shake like hell. The noxious scent of ammonia, or whatever the hell deadly toxin is in that stuff, quickly fills the air. And then, starting at the roots, working to the ends, covering each strand completely, she smears this toxic mess into her hair as if it were, in fact, her job.
Then it happens....you wait.
25 minutes of hell as you wait and watch with fright as your hair turns quickly from "Bleached out Bimbo with Dark Roots" to "High School Goth Chick" (the box actually said "French Roast or some bullshit). Then....the panic sets in. SHould I rinse now? It's only been on 6 minutes! Can I endure another 19 minutes? Will it really turn out like the picture? Of course it won't you dumbshit!
I can almost guarantee that there has never, and I mean NEVER, been a call to that hotline number on the box that went like this:
Rep: Thank you for calling That one hair coloring company. How may I help you today?
Caller: Oh yes, I just wanted to say thank you so much. My hair looks JUST like the picture on the box!
Now, while I've never worked at one of those hair-color help lines, I have, in fact had to call them. Yeah. I said it. I've called them. The conversation, in reality, goes a little more like this:
Rep: Thank you for calling and how may I help you today?
Me: Um, yes...I purchased a box of your hair color. It is color # 14G. It says "Rich Honey". The woman in the picture is sporting a wonderfully shimmery honey blonde maine. My hair, however, now looks like I just got a hair transplant from freaking Carrot Top!
Rep: OK. Ma'm. So, what can we do to help you today?
Me: Well, you can start by telling me who the color blind jackass is who fills these here bottles because surely to God there must have been some sort of mistake! It's not supposed to be THIS color!
Rep: I see. What we need to do now, ma'm is remove this color from your hair. Please give me just a moment while I refer to my incident manual to find the appropriate solution to your problem.
Me: Your incident manual? Refer to your incident manual?!?
Rep: Yes, ma'm
Me: So, you aren't a licensed cosmetologist or anything?
Rep: No, ma'm. The company puts its employees through training on how to handle these types of incidents and provides us with a manual with step-by-step solutions.
Me: Let me get this straight...you're using instructions, provided by the same company who put the instructions with the Fire Engine Red paint I just put on my head and you want me to do what YOUR instructions say to CORRECT the problem?!?!?!
Rep: Uh...yes, ma'm
CLICK!
Well, long live Carrot Top, I guess (at least semi-permanently!)
Do you really think that a support group for sex addicts is really a good idea? I mean, seriously. What do you think happens when 30 grown men and women who, through their own admissions (i.e., Hi, I'm Joe and I'm addicted to doing it), are put together in a semi-intimate setting discussing their trials and tribulations in overcoming their addiction? Can you imagine the scene in the parking garage after that meeting? Ugh.
And where are the support groups for those of us with less universally recognized addictions? For instance, what about Hair-coloring Addicts Anonymous (aptly abbreviated HAA!! since that's the reaction given by most who come in contact with a recently home-colored head of hair)? I believe this is a serious issue, which is widely overlooked, that is facing our great nation!
Millions of women trek to their local drug store armed with nothing more than $10 and an unreasonable expectation of looking like the bitch on the hair color box. I mean, I don't know the girl, personally, but surely she must be one. What with her perfectly hued hair and all. What should be highly guarded and perhaps even treated as a form of chemical warfare, is readily available on the shelves for any ill-prepared woman to purchase. You should, at the very least, be required to have a permit or a degree in chemistry to use this crap!
After making the trek home, it's off to the bathroom, which, suddenly, is turned into a dangerous chemical laboratory (as in, the warning label on the box which clearly states to never leave the mixture in the closed container for risk the bottle may explode!) I...er, um...I mean, those other women, begin the task at hand with the eager anticipation of beautiful, lustrous, perfectly tinted hair as seen on the packaging. Open. Pour. Shake like hell. The noxious scent of ammonia, or whatever the hell deadly toxin is in that stuff, quickly fills the air. And then, starting at the roots, working to the ends, covering each strand completely, she smears this toxic mess into her hair as if it were, in fact, her job.
Then it happens....you wait.
25 minutes of hell as you wait and watch with fright as your hair turns quickly from "Bleached out Bimbo with Dark Roots" to "High School Goth Chick" (the box actually said "French Roast or some bullshit). Then....the panic sets in. SHould I rinse now? It's only been on 6 minutes! Can I endure another 19 minutes? Will it really turn out like the picture? Of course it won't you dumbshit!
I can almost guarantee that there has never, and I mean NEVER, been a call to that hotline number on the box that went like this:
Rep: Thank you for calling That one hair coloring company. How may I help you today?
Caller: Oh yes, I just wanted to say thank you so much. My hair looks JUST like the picture on the box!
Now, while I've never worked at one of those hair-color help lines, I have, in fact had to call them. Yeah. I said it. I've called them. The conversation, in reality, goes a little more like this:
Rep: Thank you for calling and how may I help you today?
Me: Um, yes...I purchased a box of your hair color. It is color # 14G. It says "Rich Honey". The woman in the picture is sporting a wonderfully shimmery honey blonde maine. My hair, however, now looks like I just got a hair transplant from freaking Carrot Top!
Rep: OK. Ma'm. So, what can we do to help you today?
Me: Well, you can start by telling me who the color blind jackass is who fills these here bottles because surely to God there must have been some sort of mistake! It's not supposed to be THIS color!
Rep: I see. What we need to do now, ma'm is remove this color from your hair. Please give me just a moment while I refer to my incident manual to find the appropriate solution to your problem.
Me: Your incident manual? Refer to your incident manual?!?
Rep: Yes, ma'm
Me: So, you aren't a licensed cosmetologist or anything?
Rep: No, ma'm. The company puts its employees through training on how to handle these types of incidents and provides us with a manual with step-by-step solutions.
Me: Let me get this straight...you're using instructions, provided by the same company who put the instructions with the Fire Engine Red paint I just put on my head and you want me to do what YOUR instructions say to CORRECT the problem?!?!?!
Rep: Uh...yes, ma'm
CLICK!
Well, long live Carrot Top, I guess (at least semi-permanently!)
Saturday, November 5, 2011
No Material?
So, I've been playing along with the "Today I am thankful for...." theme on Facebook these past few days when a friend of mine suggested I should be a writer. Then another friend asked if I had ever considered blogging. I told my friend that I had actually started a blog some time ago, but just didn't have any material. She replied, "no material? You've been posting material on here for a week." Touche. So, in taking her friendly advice, I've decided that it's time to just start posting! Here are a couple of the posts, with some additions, which I've shared this past week. Enjoy (or not. That's up to you!) :)
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
My First Post
Here it is. My first blog post. Try to contain your excitement, please!
Let's start with why I chose the name "Little Woman, Big Mouth". I am a woman. I am small in stature. I have a big mouth. That pretty much sums it up. I have no issue speaking what's on my mind. In fact, I usually just say what everyone else is already thinking. I don't think it's such a bad thing. Some see it as a character flaw. I, however, say it's better to let it out than hold it in! I have my opinions on just about everything and I am not the least bit timid about voicing them. With me, you never have to wonder what I'm thinking, which, I would imagine, should be a major relief for my husband because he never has to read my mind! Lucky him, right? So, all that being said, if I love something, I'll tell you. If I hate something, I'll tell you that, too. Life is too short to play guessing games.
I also love laughter. It is, after all, the best medicine. I love laughing. I love making people laugh. So, hopefully, you'll see something here, at some point in time, that makes you laugh.
Just not right now.
That's all for now. Maybe my next post will be more interesting.
Let's start with why I chose the name "Little Woman, Big Mouth". I am a woman. I am small in stature. I have a big mouth. That pretty much sums it up. I have no issue speaking what's on my mind. In fact, I usually just say what everyone else is already thinking. I don't think it's such a bad thing. Some see it as a character flaw. I, however, say it's better to let it out than hold it in! I have my opinions on just about everything and I am not the least bit timid about voicing them. With me, you never have to wonder what I'm thinking, which, I would imagine, should be a major relief for my husband because he never has to read my mind! Lucky him, right? So, all that being said, if I love something, I'll tell you. If I hate something, I'll tell you that, too. Life is too short to play guessing games.
I also love laughter. It is, after all, the best medicine. I love laughing. I love making people laugh. So, hopefully, you'll see something here, at some point in time, that makes you laugh.
Just not right now.
That's all for now. Maybe my next post will be more interesting.
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