1. Well, I know this is gonna sound weird and all but I really think somewhere down the line my youngest daughter Ella is related to Fred Sanford.
It’s not that she’s really messy or anything it’s just that she gets this look on her face…you know the one he gets when he’s really pissed off at Lamont. Yeah, that one. She has it, dead on…like most of the time. And then there’s that whole, “I’m coming Elizabeth” hysteria. Everything is down right hysteria. That’s Ella.
Really. They’re in the same gene pool. I know it deep in my heart.
2. Rico went to help my friend Farm Chick with her sink hole dilemia early Saturday morning. He informed me that she cooked them breakfast in her bikini…which I know is a lie. He said if I was a good wife I would be doing the same thing…that it would be…errr, “HAWT.”
No, it would not be “hawt”, it would be stupid to fry bacon in a bikini and if you find me one woman who thinks it’s a good idea, I’ll show you a woman who needs enemas til clear.
3. It is really stupid for me to clean the house because no one appreciates it, keeps it clean, nor do I enjoy it.
4. I recently found out the next Blogher conference was in NYC and was sooooo excited cause I have a girlfriend who lives there and I can crash in her Manhattan apartment. This friend is single, no kids, pals around in the Hampton’s on the weekends. I’m insanely jealous.
So I email her and tell her I want to come up next August in which she replies…”You mean…like next year?”
Yes, like next year…cause I have no life.
Yes, that’s me.
5. Ella informed my Indian ophthalmologist that he was “brown.”
Yeah, like he didn’t already know that.
Thanks, Ella.
Mission Accomplished:Mom Embarrassed.
6. My beautiful NYC blog techie nerd, Lara contacted me on Facebook recently using a name I didn’t recognize.
I messaged her to see what the hell was going on. She said she put her name in cyrillic to ward off stalkers.
I thought maybe it was her Ukranian stripper name.
I never get stalkers.
7. I have a retarded cat. I’m sorry….a mentally disabled cat. I’m supposed to be all PC.
Anyhoo, my kids have literally done everything imaginable to it and it still hasn’t left. They’ve dropped him, dunked him in the pool, put stuff in his ears, swung him by his tail…and he comes back for more. He doesn’t even fight back.
They could put turpentine on his ass and he would still rub their leg.
8. Of all the things I’ve given up due to the crappy economy, I miss my dry cleaner the most.
I might consider having a tawdry affair with him in order not to iron.
Hey, if you’re reading this, call me. Maybe we can work something out.
