things and stuff

I’ve been busy and well…preoccupied.  These distractions are not yet over, but regardless of the outcome, I feel that it’s all been for the best.  So in the meantime:



I have just been notified that this is my fucking 999th post!  WHAT.  So…so much pressure and anxiety all of the sudden.  What am I going to blog about for my 1000th post?!

I’m really making this out to be more than it is.  I’ll probably blog about poop or something boring like that.  Or not.   Suspense!

Photo Dump: Decrepit Old Lady Edition

I haven’t been posting and now I feel totally shitty.  Coincidence?  I THINK NOT.  I have the cruds today and I’m not getting out of bed.


1.) This is an old picture, but it was my attempt a month ago or so to make a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle pancake.  I got the mutant part down.  I need a better squeeze bottle if I’m going to do this again and not traumatize my children.

My sweatshirt is orange.  Click to embiggen!

2.)  I have been having too much fun with NPC Comic.  It amuses me much!

I done got my hair did.

3.) As per my ChÜberlist: 2014 I was going to donate my hair but upon closer inspection, I actually didn’t have long hair, but a very elaborate network of straw, grass, tumbleweed, and a tiny nest of baby birds.  In other words, previous hair dyeing and general neglect made me decide that my hair wasn’t donation-worthy.  So I’m now 10 inches lighter and all the unhealthy garbage is gone.  Maybe next time.  *big fail sigh*

So…this is my life now.

Or more appropriately, Wendy’s sad life.

4.) I’m going to be selfish for a minute and say I never wanted a dog with so many fucking problems.  So many expensive fucking problems.  Fingers crossed that this is only a bladder infection and her constant leaking all over the couch/ottoman/chair is done with.  $45 vet check and medication, $30 dog diapers WTF, $230 to clean and sanitize the furniture.  Laundry every day.  And let’s remember that we still need a $200 blood test in a few weeks.  Let me be clear:  I love my dog.  She’s loyal and loving and funny and sweet.  She just has so many problems right now.  And frankly, I can’t take another pet death.  I’m fucking traumatized and it’s just too painful.

Bite my terrified metal ass.

5.) I’m going to the doctor next week.  I get cruds that don’t go away, I have a knee that won’t work and then there’s everything else that’s wrong with me.  I hate going to doctors and dentists because I’ve had some terrible ones.  Terribly unprofessional ones.  But seeing as I’m rapidly aging and I spend more money on the dog going to the vet than I do on my own health, I should go. It would be great if I had some anti-anxiety meds left, but for that I need to go to a fucking doctor. Bad catch-22.  And I don’t like setting a bad example for my kids.  And I probably want to live and all that.  


Fatty McBitchalot

At the risk of sounding like a pig, I hate getting ripped off when I order food.  We ordered dinner from a local chain called Joe’s to Goes.  This is what we ordered:

Twenty *AMERICAN* Dollars!

Now, in retrospect, I guess it never said anything about it being for a family.  But a full rack of ribs, even the diminutive baby back ribs, is excessive for one person to eat.  But this is what arrived:

Full rack of ribs with a shot of cole slaw and baked beans.  They forgot the fries, by the way.

Also, am I the fucking Queen of England or something?  I’m in my pajamas.  I’m watching cartoons.  I do not need a $20 individual meal.  A $20 meal should require pants.

Also, the delivery driver, who received 20% tip on his big one mile delivery, was a confrontational jerk when he had to return and actually deliver the fries 30 minutes after the food got here.   So basically, I had some mediocre ribs.  The sides were disgusting, so maybe that was their plan to begin with.  4oz of terrible canned beans that you wouldn’t want to eat anyway and mayonnaise with a sprig of cabbage in it. 

The kids got hot dog meals and they were huge; I cut it in half and they ate one hot dog between them.  I’m not going to get into some discussion about portions and healthy food, but as a parent, are you kidding me?  Look at this:


Yes, that is a 7″ hot dog.  I should have gotten a girth measurement because that thing was huge.  That is a kids’ meal?  I’m actually so annoyed I’m not going to make an obligatory wiener joke.  I know, right?