Thursday, August 29, 2013

Dear Uterus..... Shut the eff up!

I held the most adorable little baby yesterday. He was so tiny, he smelled so good, his eyes, and dear lord all that hair. I’m not exaggerating when I say that I sat there for almost an hour just cuddling this little ball of adorableness and petting his skin, and sniffing his hair. I was reminded of when my little A-holes were that little, and I could just sit there and hold them and love on them all day long. It made me sad that I don’t have anyone that little to love anymore, and for a moment a small fleeting moment I thought “Hey, I could do this baby thing again.” Then the little effer shit himself and started screaming like a banshee. One whiff of his ass…  DONE. I practically spiraled that thing at its mother. What the fuck was I thinking?  Why did I even pick up that little shit sack in the first place? I don’t even like other peoples’ spawns (I know it’s not PC to say that, but for the most part it’s true.) It must be the meds that make my uterus less angry. A less angry uterus obviously makes you think stupid shit like “Oh look at that little baby. I want another baby.” Well, dear uterus, there will be absolutely no more little fuckers growing in there and here’s why:

·        Sleep is a beauteous thing. Even more beauteous is a full nights, 8 count ‘em eight consecutive hours of shut eye. Babies are little, and dumb and think that only 2 hours or so is enough time to rest. Then they wake up and want food, and attention, and never go back to sleep again. EVER.

·        They shit in their pants. Yes I know, I have done it too but at least I can wipe my own ass and clean that shit up. Babies can’t wipe their own asses. Hell I’m sure they don’t even know where their ass is.

·        Formula smells disgusting. It smells even more disgusting when it has been regurgitated back onto your black tshirt. Same with carrots, and peas, and that shit they put in a jar claiming it’s meat.

·        Speaking of formula… That shit is expensive and the little shit wad is just going to throw it up anyway.

·        The sound of their cry is enough to make a Serial Killer kill himself. It is the most ear piercing deafening sound. My stomach is knotting up just thinking about it. I can’t talk about the crying anymore. I am having PTSD falshbacks.

·        Babies are not cute when they cry. Their face turns various shades of reds, blues, and purples. Their skin wrinkles all up, and you can see the veins in their melons. There is snot pouring from their noses, and they choke on their excess saliva because swallowing is a foreign concept.

·        They go through more outfits in an hour than all 5 New Kids do in a concert. That’s a lot of fucking laundry that mom has to wash.

·        Then there is the baby that never wants to be put down, and you have no choice but to hold it all fucking day because if you put it down for even a second it is going to scream like you are cutting its toes off and the nosey fucking neighbor is going to call the cops on you.

·        The one bright side to the above mentioned scenario is you learn real quick how to manage if you ever had to have one of your arms amputated.

·        Showering is going to become a thing of the past. Get used to baby wipes and Gold Bond to feel clean. You may think that baby is asleep but as soon as it hears the shower turn on it’s all over.

·        You’re sick??? Too bad. The baby is hungry and just shit itself, you don’t get to be sick. Suck it up Sally.

·        Forget shitting in peace until your maternity leave is over. In fact forget going to the bathroom alone in your own house for the next 5-10 years. Every need a child has becomes an instant immediate need the second you pop a squat on the john.

Nope uterus, you are going to remain empty from here until eternity. Our baby days are dunzo. I did my time, and somehow survived it. Now I have semi less disgusting creatures. They learned to feed themselves, shit in the toilet, wipe their own asses (this one may be questionable), use their words instead of screaming and crying, (again questionable). They go to school for most of the day and I can get some shit done nap alone, they will make friends that are way cooler and more important than me, and if I am really lucky their friend’s house will be the cool house to hang out at.

What you think you’re getting……

What you really get

Tuesday, August 27, 2013

10 peeps I want to c*#t punt

I've been pretty cranky lately. I'm wondering if it's time to reevaluate my current med levels to see if they are in fact keeping my chemicals balanced, or maybe I'm just being an oversensitive twat. Either way, I have encountered quite a few panty stains that I would love nothing more than to cunt punt. Here is my top 10 in no real particular order:

10. The Hungry Hippo at Stewart's every single fucking morning making 2 cups of coffee:
       Listen lady, you have been doing this every Monday-Friday for the last 4 years, there is no need  to taste test the god damn things. If you haven't figured out the coffee/sugar/creamer ratio by now, then you are beyond stupid, no one can help you, and you need to send whoever cup number 2 is for to make the damn coffee. So move the fuck over and let a bitch make her coffee already.

9. The Asshat at the Sprint Kiosk:
     He may look like a dude, but he acts like a bitch. Last time I checked the words coming out of my mouth were plain old English, so when I say No, I have a phone that I am happy with, leave it the fuck alone. Nagging at me like a woman is a sure fire way to get my foot square up in your pooter.

8. The "Homeless" Dude standing in the median by SCCC:
     When you ask me for money, and I offer you plenty of resources available to you with in walking distance (You are about 15 feet from the YMCA) and you say Cash is King, the only thing I am capable of replying with is a big fat FUCK YOU! Peeps, I beg of you, do not give this douche knuckle money, he is a scammer.

7. All of the crazy ass Mom bloggers writing open letters to Miley Cyrus:
     Dude, she's an adult she can do what ever the hell her little heart desires no matter how jacked up it looks. Stop calling her out saying she has a responsibility to your young daughters to be a role model. No she doesn't, want to know who does have a responsibility to your young daughter? YOU. Period. If you are Mother of the god damn year why in the fuck are you letting your 10 year old daughter watch the MTV Video Music Awards? What do you think happens on shows like that? It's all about shock value A-holes! Put it on GMC if you are looking for wholesome entertainment, not MTV.... Fucking idiots!

6.  The Dude with the 132lb ball sack:
      I felt bad for you for a minute there guy. But then you started acting like a used wad of toilet paper and I was over it. How in the hell would you even know if your wang dang is smaller post surgery? It has been stuck in your scrotum for years dude. Years! Face it, your 15 minutes are over. Go away.

5. Dave from the Liquor Store:
    I get that I am becoming somewhat of a frequent flyer, but come on.... From day fucking one you have yet to ask me for my ID. The sign says if you look under the age of 40 be prepared to show us your ID. Seeing as how you have never asked, I am assuming you think I am over 40. Dave, I hate you. I hope you get genital warts.

4. The Cranky UPS Guy:
    Sorry it annoys you that our office is on the 3rd floor, but it's kind of your job to deliver the packages. You really don't need to tell me every time you come here how much you hate delivering to us. I can tell just by your squirrely face. In fact I think you just hate your life, maybe if you weren't such a miserable prick people would be nicer to you. My panties instantly wad up around my nethers every time I see you.

3. All of the Dance Moms:
    I admit it, I watch this show every Tuesday. Trust me, I hate myself for it. They sit there bitching and moaning about how terrible Abby is to their kids, yet they continue to bring their kids to her to be verbally abused. I mean she is a great teacher, those kids are amazing dancers but if you hate her that much and are so concerned with the way she treats your kids, and your worried what it is doing to them why in the fuck are you still there??? Oh yeah, attention.

2. Ms. I ate 500 too many Ho Ho's and now I need a mart cart at Walmart:
    I'm fat, I own it. It is not a god damn handicap that requires the use of a motorized vehicle to buy your groceries. You are just fucking lazy. And rude too! There is market etiquette that must be followed lest you want someone to punt you in your fat cunt. Stay to the right, get what you need off the shelf and move on. If you run into your mom's aunt's brother's cousin's friend's baby mama's second grade teacher while shopping, for everything holy find an empty space to go and catch up. Right in the middle of the isle is not the place. And for fucks sake put your asshole kid on a fucking leash or leave the fucker at home!

1.  The Douche that keeps droppin pubes in the staff bathroom:
      Come on!!!! You need to take care of that shit. When you have pubes falling off your vag every time you pop a squat either A. you have way too many pubes. or 2. you have a severe case of vaginal alopecia. Either way it's time to get it under control. And don't try to tell me that you are unaware of your little sitiation.... I have yet to meet anyone who when truly honest doesn't look into the toilet when they are done. Especially a shared toilet in an office. Everyone looks. It's just what you do. You know you just shed a bunch of twat hairs all over the bowl, yet you walked away from it, and left it for someone else to clean up. You are an Asshole of EPIC proportions! I would love to cunt punt you, but then I would get all your pubes stuck up in my toes, and I have no time for that. Instead here is a big fat FUCK YOU!

Thursday, August 22, 2013

Since I'm going to Hell anyway.....

Boredom makes me play on the interwebs all day. I bounce from site to site just amusing myself. Today, I landed on Urban Dictionary. How have I never played in this amazing internets playground before???? I am pretty disappointed that peeps have kept this a secret from me. I know that my friend used it once when we were debating the meaning of the word chode (a ding dong wider than long), but come the fuck on…. I feel like I have been cheated here, and now I’m all pissy and butt hurt about it. Now, we all know what happens when I’m butt hurt over something…. (Ahem getting shot in the ass and lied to about it, Arnold and Da Wif!!!!) I dwell on it, but with all this trying to “Save” me nonsense going on today, I am going to try to turn a new leaf. I am going to just let it go, I’d say let it go and give it to God, or Jesus, or whatever is up there peepin on us at all hours, but I’m not. I’m going to let it go and give it to you. You’re welcome. Here are a few of my fav’s that I call people on the regular that I Urban Dictionaried today…

Twat Waffle: A vagina that is so shriveled up that it looks like a defrosted waffle.

Jo went down on Mary and thought he was eating breakfast.


Douche Knuckle: Noun: Doosh Nuck-le A person who attends a party and then steals beer from the host while leaving.

Tony: Hey man Tap is such a Douche Knuckle!
Adam: Why do you say that?
Tony: That Douche Knuckle stole a twelve pack of Yuengling from my porch at 3:00 AM on New Years Eve.
Adam: Wow... Really? Did he ask anyone first?
Tony: Nah... That is the fucked up thing, all that Douche Knuckle had to do was ask and I would have given him the damn beer.
Adam: Wow, he really is a Douche Knuckle.


Dillhole: Originally used on the TV series Beavis and Butthead, presumably because you can't say dickhole on TV.

A mild insult.

Get away from me, you dillhole!


Touch Hole: A tool, a knob, a jerk-off. More than a dork, but not quite a douchebag.

"Tom, stop being such a touch hole, Bellingham is right near Rhode Island and you know it."

"I just spent the whole day with that guy at the football game and the goddamn touch hole wouldn't stop talking about how good the Kansas City Chiefs were for even a minute."


Some of these words I kind of already knew the semi definition when I was name calling, but Douche Knuckle, really???? When I call someone a DK it’s not because they are beer stealers. Beer stealers are just Douche Bags, the Knuckle adds a whole new level of Douchery. To me a Douche Knuckle would be the kind of person that plays Christian Rock in your ear all friggin day, and tell you that applying certain bible passages will ensure your entry into Heaven. Yup, that’s a Douche Knuckle…. A Douche Knuckle that I want to shove my spork so deep into their freaking butthole right now.
I'm not sure if everyone is aware or not, but I really had no plans to spend all of my afterlife roaming around on clouds with some dirty hippy wearing a dress. To me, it just doesn't sound like a fun time. Besides, what if it's cold up there? I'm allergic to the cold remember? Nope, heading way down south the pits of the underworld seems more my speed. It's always warm down there, it's filled with a bunch of degenerates who probably wont care if I shit myself (I think in Heaven you have to wear white. I don't do white, I would stain the shit out of it faster than you can say, St Paul the whatever.) And I'm fairly certain that the alcohol and drugs will be plentiful down there, hell I may even start doing those drugs while I'm down. I mean what's the worst that will happen? A. I am already dead. and 2. I'm in Hell.
Pretty sure it doesn't get much worse than that. Besides most of my friends will be there and I wouldn't want to miss out on that party, so please Dear I'm making it my life's mission to save this abomination, just let it go, and give it to God... I'm good with hell, I promise.



Friday, August 16, 2013

Butt problems, pancakes, and girlfriends Oh My

Pretty sure my ADD is kicking in here, because I can't come up with one single thing to write about. I can think of multiple things to write about, but not one single thing to warrant an entire blog post about. It's like there is a thing buffet up there in my noggin and it all looks amazing and I can't pick just one thing so I am going to pick it all, because that's just how I roll.
Thing 1:
I was lucky enough to get to spend a few hours in the emergency room on Wednesday. I started feeling like death on Friday and it just progressively got worse, by Wednesday the boss lady was pretty sure I was dying and didn't want it to happen in the office, because a chalk line of me on the waiting room may be a deterrent for future clients so she made the executive decision that I needed to die somewhere else, and the hospital seemed like a pretty good place. At first everyone was all nicey nicey to me and did their best to make me feel comfortable. They asked the standard Do you feel safe? Homicidal? Suicidal? questions. I answered no to all of them but truthfully I was considering sporking the douche that was in the bed across from me, but being transferred to the crazy ward wasn't in my list of things to do, so I kept my mouth shut. Fast forward a million hours and one CT scan later when PA Jorge returns and says:
"Good news Ms. Clark your appendix are fine. However.... (Oh shit, I'm gonna die????) We asked you upon arrival if you were feeling suicidal, do you have anything you want to tell me?"
 What in the what?!!?!?!? I had lots of things I wanted to tell him, but again the crazy ward was not in the game plan.
 "Ms. Clark, it appears that there are multiple pills sitting in your gut at the moment. Did you swallow a bottle of pills before you came in?"
"Uh no?"
"Are you sure about this"
"Uh, yeah pretty sure I would remember swallowing an entire bottle of pills"
"Well then Ms. Clark, all I can offer you is that it appears as though you have not been digesting your medicines and they are all just sitting in there"
"How many of my medicines are just sitting there?"
"If I had to guess.... Somewhere in the 30 plus range."
"Wait a minute, so you are telling me there are more than 30 pills just sitting there? Like just hanging out."
"Yes Ms. Clark, that is what I am saying. It appears that something is wrong. You should call your Primary tomorrow. Have a good night."
What in the fuck just happened? PA Jorge just vanished, so I went home to pray to Cheesus that my stomach wouldn't explode before I could get to the Doctor the next day.
Good News: It didn't explode. I went and saw my doctor yesterday, and was assured my stomach wouldn't explode and kill me. I have to see a new Crohn's guy because the one I have now just isn't working out, oh and I can have nothing but liquids and crushed pills until my appointment. Yippiefuckingskippy. Want to hear the better news? I blew a bunch of them pill left overs out today! Not sure how many, but hey I'll take what I can get here.
Thing 2:
Were you aware that you can now order bacon stuffed pancakes at Denny's? I said BACONFRIGGINSTUFFEDPANCAKES! As if that wasn't enough you can also have them drizzle peanut butter sauce on top of this pile o' heaven. Yup, this is a real thing peoples you need to get on this. It will change your world, and blow your mind. This is going to be the first thing that I cram in my pie hole as soon as I am given the go ahead to put chew food in my mouth again.
Thing 3:
I need it to be Saturday now. I am over penises and children and need to get the hell out. Happy children are the product of a mother who takes care of herself. It really is okay to go hang out with people your own age and leave them in the more than capable hands of their own father. I mean really, you chose to reproduce with this dude, yet you don't trust his child raising abilities? What do you  think is going to happen while you are gone? They may discover they like dad better than you? Oh the horror!!!! I wish my kids liked the mister better than me sometimes, to go into the bathroom alone because they are up his ass and not mine would be magical. Anywho... On Saturday I am going to hang out with a bunch of really cool chicks and bond over lady things. Yup, that's what we are doing. In no way shape or form are we going to drink until we can't stand, and be loud, and obnoxious. We are not going to bitch about our other halves or our PITA children, or invalid by their own choice (lazy) parents. Nope, none of that is going to happen. Just a few dignified ladies, spending time together to regroup and refocus so we can be the best mothers that their children deserve. Did you but that? I had a really hard time saying that with a straight face. But I need to because that is how I am going to spin it to the mister when he gives me the "You just saw them all last weekend and I want to spend time with you" crap. Not sure if he will buy it or not, but that's what I'm going with. Not like it really matters anyway, I do what I want. Not sure if he even knows how to tell me "no", or if he has just given up trying altogether.
Thing 4:
There is no thing 4. I'm done. Have a superdeefuckingduper weekend!!!!

Monday, August 12, 2013

I need some brother husbands

I have a lot of celebrity crushes, enough to qualify me as a crush whore of sorts. I don't think it's entirely my fault though. Hollywood has produced a hella lot of dudes that have just enough qualities to make me fall in love, but not enough to settle for just one. We all know how I feel about Joey McIntyre, you would think that with a love that time tested and deep that he would for sure be my one and only. Sadly, you're wrong, there are others, so many others. I need to find a way to morph them all together to make the "Perfect Man", but until that happens we are just going to have to settle for Brother Husbands.
Duh.... yes Joey will be Hubs #1. He's earned that spot fo sho. Those eyes, and that voice, and that smile. Yerp I's in loves. The way he looks at me when he sings, and cradles my head so perfectly each and every night is just so incredibly perfect. We've been through a lot, Joey and I. Puberty, my first kiss with a boy that wasn't Joey, the birthing of 2 live humans. He stuck by me through all of these things and more. He deserves to be my #1 hunk o burnin love.
Number 2... Vin Diesel, he is the epitome of sexiness. Dude is beyond beast, and he is so funny too. I mean have you seen The Pacifier? Hilarious. He is the sole reason I have watched any of the Fast and the Furious movies, I couldn't tell you what they are about, but I have watched him them. I was slightly disappointed in XXX, based on the title I was thinking it was going to be a 50 Shades Vin movie, but I was wrong. Oh well, he was totally hot in that one too.
Bret, oh Bret I could never forget about you. We have rocked out together for many years. Hell I even have a tattoo that says Poison. He was my original hair band lover. We go way back to 1984 when my brothers would have backyard parties and me and Arnold would crash them. We were so irresistibly cute that all the girls would let us stay and hang out with them and sing along to the radio. I go and see Bret when ever he is in town, or remotely close (Buffalo is close enough) we walk down memory lane together singing hits like Look What the Cat Dragged In, and Talk Dirty To Me. He kind of dances like he's having a seizure, and I'm pretty sure he is balding under that trademark bandanna, but what can I say, I am nothing if not epically loyal to the mens in my life. Oh AND he is a huge animal guy, I mean COME ON!?!?!?!?! Saving the animals.
You would think having 3 husbands would be enough, but I am a lady of excess. Russell Brand rounds out my top 4. I don't care what anyone says about him, dude is funny as hell! Rock of Ages??? He had me rolling. There is something about his hair, and attitude, and voice that makes me swoon. I can't really explain it, but there is a spark and he is my man. We have a connection, and it is real, so back off m'kay.
I wish I could say this was it, but it's not. There's Ryan Hurst (RIP Opie), Chris Pontius, Andrew McCarthy (Yes I named the boy after him), and Jenny McCarthy. Don't even play that you don't have a girl crush too. I think she is the ultimate female, H-O-T, funny as hell, a devoted mom, slightly twisted, and lest not forget that she is currently banging Donnie Wahlberg. It takes a special kinda woman for a job that big. I mean, dude have you seen him lately? No???? Well here ya go. Don't say I never gave you anything....
You're Welcome!
I'm beginning to think that I need to go to some sort of celeb crush anonymous meeting. Damn you Hollywood, and Music World for pushing all this sexiness in my face. How is a girl supposed to live a life of normalcy when her heart is just too big to love one man?
Wait. What am I saying? Rehab??? Hells Nah! I'm going to buy some land in wherever Polygamy isn't frown upon and we can all live happily ever after. Joey will sing to me and pet my head every night, Vin can do all the manly house stuff sans shirt, Bret can take care of our 15 dogs, and Russell will tell me stories and feed me tea and crumpets. Ya know, I think this could work out quite nicely.   

Friday, August 9, 2013

Week in Rewind...... Basically I'm too lazy to come up with anything new

I feel like a bag of smashed assholes today, and really don't have anything other than the fact that my butt and gut hurts on my mind so you are going to have to deal with just a recap of the week....

Monday: Monday? Monday? Oh yeah Monday was the 5th of the month and a Monday.... This combination is like the seventh circle of hell. If you know what it is that I do to make the cash flow then you won't be surprised to know that I was literally dragging my ass when I got home. I'm not sure I managed to do anything that night. Well one of my nephew boys spent the night so I made dinner but that was about it. Oh and I think I made fun of watched a Shark Week show with the fam. I also think it ended in Clark getting his panties in a wad so I was sent to my room for the remainder of the evening, which was finediddly by me because A. I was beat, and 2. I freakin hate Shark Week.

Tuesday: Ahhhhh Tuesday was the day Clark refused to entertain my idea of having Sammy stuffed so I turned to Arnold who always has my back This is how that went down Man I love that girl. She gets me, and I get her, and we get each other, and that makes me super happy.

Wednesday: My Buddy's band Skeeter Creek was playing down at Freedom Park. I love free Freedom Park concerts and I loves me some Skeeter Creek, so duhhhhh of course I was going to go. I had plans to have a dinner date with the girl child, then meet up with Arnold, my wife, and some friends for a good ol fashioned hoedown! So, yeah the girl and I had dinner and aside from the fucking birds constantly staring at me, and flying way too close for my comfort it was nice, it was nice until it wasn't anymore, when a stupid head seagull felt the need to shit all down my boob!!!! Who does that?!?!?!?!?! The damn seagull at Jumpin Jacks that's who. Someone needs to shoot that sonamabitch. I hate him I hate him a lot

But in true KPC spirit I brushed myself off (Well changed my shirt because ain't no way in hell I was touching bird poop.) and carried on. I got to see SK rock, danced a little and hung out with some cool peeps. Note my wife is missing from this picture...She decided to go hang out with someone else. Guaranteed she didn't have as good as a time as she would have if she didn't ditch me, but I'm not bitter, nope not me.

Look No bird poop on this shirt! SCORE!!!!

Thursday: It was rainy and cruddy yesterday, and the girl had a super long practice to learn her choreography. It looks like it is going to be AMAZING so you will totally have to check her out when the competition season starts. While I was waiting, waiting, waiting to pick her up I got to chat with my wife about feeling bad for people that have ugly babies, and diaper wearing flying monkeys. You know the normal stuff. It was all in all a pretty typical day, until my butt broke. For reals, there is a muscle back there called the levator ani muscle, and when it begins to spasm it feels like you are about to give birth to your tailbone through your butt. It hurts a lot. Like cry and pass out hurt. I was able to take my magic make the pain go away meds last night, but they make me high... Like seriously I can hear my ear hairs growing - high. Needless to say, I can't take that stuff at work, and while my ass hasn't spazzed out today, I am still just sore form yesterday's episode, not to mention the fact that my colon is pretty angry.

I think that's pretty much it in a nut shell, just a normal week. But hey it's Friday, and who knows what the weekend will bring. I know for sure probably not a whole lot tonight because I may die tonight, but tomorrow is a new day and the possibilities are endless.....

Yay now I have plans for the weekend! Who's in????

Wednesday, August 7, 2013

I have no freaking clue what to call this one.......

Me and Arnold had a deep conversation last night..... I heart my sissy! I love that we are the same page about all the important things in life, things like child rearing (ha ha ha rear), political issues, human rights issues, mens killing, and dog stuffing.....

Last night I told Clark that I want to have my dog stuffed and placed by the fire place for the rest of eternity when he dies. I want to dress him up like an elf and take Christmas Card pictures with him. I want to carry him to my bedroom at night and lay him on the floor to sleep like he does now, only if he's dead and stuffed I can put him in pajamas that match mine. Clark is a tool..... So, I turned to Arnold, she gets me, and for that I loves her.

I told you she gets me.....

Then, THEN I was watching Dance Moms and Abbey got her dead dog stuffed. Abbey Lee FUCKING Miller had Broadway Baby stuffed. If that mean lady can stuff her dog, why can't I? I was surprised that it was actually a "thing" though. So I ran to tell Clark all about Abbey and Broadway Baby and he was all like "Yeah, but she's not going to dress it up, and carry it around, and take pictures of it....And then hump the damn thing" I never once said that I was going to hump my dead stuffed dog. I mean come on even I think that is pretty grody! We may have a random dance party, but no humping. I save that for Aliens and Storm Troopers. Every chick has her limits.

Monday, August 5, 2013


Seriously, It is rough being me, and having to always be the sensible person in every relationship.... Below is a legit email I had to send out today. For legal reasons (if she decides not to heed my advice) all names have been changed.
Dear Blank (I'm not good at making up names)

Please, I beg of you, Don’t kill your husband this evening. I know how tempting it is to commit such an act but I have thought about it and compiled a list of consequences to such a behavior:

1.      You will end up in jail

a.      And while you look nice in some orange, I’m not entirely sure you could pull off head to toe orange

2.      The shoes are U.G.L.Y.

3.      Lifetime will make a horrendous made for TV movie about your case painting you as the A-hole

4.      Your No Name Child (Again....No good at names) will wind up in foster care. Do you know what happens to foster care kids? No? Let me tell you:

a.      He will feel unloved

b.      He will go looking for love in all the wrong places

                                                    i.     This will lead him to join a gang

c.      He will have to wear ugly colors in this gang

d.      He will get a tattoo of his gang name on his knuckles

e.      He is going to end up on Channel 6’s Perp Patrol

f.       Lifetime will make a horrendous made for TV movie about his life, again painting you as the A- hole

I also have a list of alternatives for you as well:

1.      Stab him in the leg with a spork (I have one if you need to borrow it)

2.      Tie ribbons on his deer head’s antlers. Nothing says “Do what I say, or the deer gets it quite like ribbons on antlers”

3.      Tie dye all his hunting clothes pink

4.      Change his ringback tone to I’m sexy and I know it and set it so it only goes off like that when his boss calls.

5.      Make him unfriend Fly 92 on Facebook

Have a SUPER unkilly night!!!!
Do you see what I have to put up with???? This is my life right here. I swear I feel like that Lucy Bitch in Charlie Brown with the damn Psychiatry sign over her head, only no one is giving this bitch five cents..... I want my 5 cents damn it!!!!
Now I see you nodding your head and the lightbulb going off all like so this is why she drinks! Well, you're wrong. I drink because my friggin father can't manage to pee in the toilet. I drink because my son is convinced that cleaning his room will induce a terminal disease. I drink because my daughter absolutely can not under any circumstances sit the fuck still and bounces, and flips all over the damn place. I drink because my cat pukes up her hair every where and apparently I am the only one who can see it. I drink because my husband makes me watch Ancient Aliens with him.
Holy Shit.....
This. Lots and Lots of this.......