1. When he doesn't know the words to a song, he will either make up his own, or sing, "Peanut butter and jelly," repeatedly to the song's melody.
2. He is scared of mice. Up on a chair making a high-pitched whistling sound scared of mice.
3. Most of his pants are floods because he is quite tall and it's mostly legs.
4. He has some funky dance moves, including: the shopping cart, the salt-n-pepper shaker, the moonwalk, the 'i'm blocking punches' move, and my favorites: the sprinkler and thread-the-needle.
5. He appreciates fine bone china and fancy candles.
6. He refuses to watch Talladega Nights because he thinks they are making fun of NASCAR.
7. One of his eyeteeth is a bit recessed and he won't get it fixed because Jewel (the singer) has one just like it; he is convinced it is a sign they are destined to be together.
8. He loves Hawkin's Cheezies and gets huffy if there aren't any in the house.
9. Guaranteed, he will be sleeping on the couch by 8:30pm unless America's Got Talent is on. Conversation must wait until commercial breaks.
10. He will be very offended when he reads this because he will think I am making fun of him. Which I kind of am, but in that hey I love your quirks and want the world to know it kind of way. Also in the you called me unoriginal so I'm showing you how unoriginal I can be, jackass way, and of course the thanks for always hitting on my friends and my sister when they come over and this is why we can't have nice friends and now I'm getting you back for it way. (He's inappropriate like that.)
Is your signif other this weird, too?
Monday, September 14, 2009
Sunday, September 13, 2009
Stone Fox
For a laugh, I googled my nickname. Just to see. Would my blog come up?
No. No, my blog didn't come up.
This is what did:
"Stone Fox is a book about a ten year old boy named Willy who must win the big dogsled race in order to pay the taxes on his grandfather's farm." And so on and so forth.
People, this is not why I chose this nickname. My real name is not Willy, and as a matter of fact, I don't even have one. I also am not Native Indian (or First Nations, or Aboriginal, or please insert whichever term you are most comfortable with), I don't run dogsled, and I will talk to white people. Unless you are one of those white people on www.peopleofwalmart.com (thank you, Snarky Mom).
This is why I chose this nickname:
urbandictonary.com definition for stone fox: One who is so awesome that not only are they foxy, they are also solid.
I didn't get it from urbandictonary.com first, I actually got it from TV. I was watching The Rockford Files one day and Jim Rockford called a smokin' babe a stone fox and I thought, 'Me like.' (We're not really into complex thoughts up in our Penthouse Suite.)
Let's pause for a moment.
Actor who played Jim Rockford: James Garner
Author of Stone Fox: John Gardiner
Coincidence? I think probably.
No. No, my blog didn't come up.
This is what did:
"Stone Fox is a book about a ten year old boy named Willy who must win the big dogsled race in order to pay the taxes on his grandfather's farm." And so on and so forth.
People, this is not why I chose this nickname. My real name is not Willy, and as a matter of fact, I don't even have one. I also am not Native Indian (or First Nations, or Aboriginal, or please insert whichever term you are most comfortable with), I don't run dogsled, and I will talk to white people. Unless you are one of those white people on www.peopleofwalmart.com (thank you, Snarky Mom).
This is why I chose this nickname:
urbandictonary.com definition for stone fox: One who is so awesome that not only are they foxy, they are also solid.
I didn't get it from urbandictonary.com first, I actually got it from TV. I was watching The Rockford Files one day and Jim Rockford called a smokin' babe a stone fox and I thought, 'Me like.' (We're not really into complex thoughts up in our Penthouse Suite.)
Let's pause for a moment.
Actor who played Jim Rockford: James Garner
Author of Stone Fox: John Gardiner
Coincidence? I think probably.
Thursday, September 10, 2009
The Flop Sweat
Dictionary of Fox:
Flop Sweat: (n), a total body sweat that is the result of both exertion and stress. Usually presents with mild confusion and a distinct lack of coordination.
I spent most of the day in a flop sweat. Drop off clothes here. Pick up high chair here (SO glad to be rid of my old, ugly behemoth). Feedstarving rabid animals children. Doctor's appointment because Little Dude is now sporting the Latest Rage in Scrotum Accessories; a supersized, raised, Zincofax-ain't-gonna-do-it diaper rash. Pharmacy. Call screetching halt to everything in order to buy 2 bottles of Diet Pepsi and some party mix to wash it down with. Home. House clean like speed freak hopped up on PCP (is that the same thing? I'm not current with my drug lingo). No time to cook a decent meal, defrost tupperware of frozen stew (that even I thought was tasteless the first time around). Drag Hurricane and siblings to Tack-win-dow.
Whoa, whoa. Let me stop here. I need to describe the teacher who runs the taekwondo class. Firstly, he is well groomed and pleasant looking, but no Brad Pitt. BUT, and rarely do you meet someone like this (and f*ck, this is going to sound cheesy), he has this intangible quality that is almost.. mesmerizing (yeah, cheesy but true). Kind of like you know that if you give him bullshit, he will put you down. Down down to funkytown. With sexy results. Immediately I get the sweats and start fumbling around and stuttering like a complete moron when trying to talk to him.
Class started, and the teacher talked to the kids for a bit about what they did over the summer. Then, it was time to run laps. Hurricane made a beeline for me yelling, "I don't wanna play no more!" I told him that I knew he was scared, but he was gonna do this. The teacher walked over to my son and I, put his big stone-mason hands on my little boy's shoulders and said, "You will go run laps now." I watched my openly-defiant kid fold like a cheap tent. I knew that my presence was making the Hurricane act like a Mama's Boy, so I figured I should go. I sweat some more as I stumble around and ramble on about how I'm leaving and I'll be back and I have no frigging clue what I said; I can feel all the other parents and the teacher are staring at me, wondering if I am "special with an R." I finally manage to get our shit together enough to carry Little Dude in my arms and push an empty stroller out of the gym. Why wouldn't I just put the baby in the stroller and calmly stroll out? Why, because I have gone temporarily brain dead. Oh yeah, and the Princess is trying to climb in the stroller at the same time I am trying to push the stroller out the door.
I was so flustered that I loaded the kids and forgot the stroller. Until I drove over it's front wheels. Silver lining: I hated that stroller and it's stupid non-swivelling front wheels and lack of umbrella. We paid $10 for it and I don't even feel guilty about throwing it right in the trash.
(Used stroller for sale. Cheap. Right front wheel has 360 degree swivel! Right front tire not included.)
Wouldn't you know it, the Hurricane enjoyed his Tack-win-dow. Awesome. I get to be awkward and have a shiny forehead again next week. How lucky for me.
Flop Sweat: (n), a total body sweat that is the result of both exertion and stress. Usually presents with mild confusion and a distinct lack of coordination.
I spent most of the day in a flop sweat. Drop off clothes here. Pick up high chair here (SO glad to be rid of my old, ugly behemoth). Feed
Whoa, whoa. Let me stop here. I need to describe the teacher who runs the taekwondo class. Firstly, he is well groomed and pleasant looking, but no Brad Pitt. BUT, and rarely do you meet someone like this (and f*ck, this is going to sound cheesy), he has this intangible quality that is almost.. mesmerizing (yeah, cheesy but true). Kind of like you know that if you give him bullshit, he will put you down. Down down to funkytown. With sexy results. Immediately I get the sweats and start fumbling around and stuttering like a complete moron when trying to talk to him.
Class started, and the teacher talked to the kids for a bit about what they did over the summer. Then, it was time to run laps. Hurricane made a beeline for me yelling, "I don't wanna play no more!" I told him that I knew he was scared, but he was gonna do this. The teacher walked over to my son and I, put his big stone-mason hands on my little boy's shoulders and said, "You will go run laps now." I watched my openly-defiant kid fold like a cheap tent. I knew that my presence was making the Hurricane act like a Mama's Boy, so I figured I should go. I sweat some more as I stumble around and ramble on about how I'm leaving and I'll be back and I have no frigging clue what I said; I can feel all the other parents and the teacher are staring at me, wondering if I am "special with an R." I finally manage to get our shit together enough to carry Little Dude in my arms and push an empty stroller out of the gym. Why wouldn't I just put the baby in the stroller and calmly stroll out? Why, because I have gone temporarily brain dead. Oh yeah, and the Princess is trying to climb in the stroller at the same time I am trying to push the stroller out the door.
I was so flustered that I loaded the kids and forgot the stroller. Until I drove over it's front wheels. Silver lining: I hated that stroller and it's stupid non-swivelling front wheels and lack of umbrella. We paid $10 for it and I don't even feel guilty about throwing it right in the trash.
(Used stroller for sale. Cheap. Right front wheel has 360 degree swivel! Right front tire not included.)
Wouldn't you know it, the Hurricane enjoyed his Tack-win-dow. Awesome. I get to be awkward and have a shiny forehead again next week. How lucky for me.
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
The Hurricane
This is one of those posts I am writing for OAP Me. When I am old and aged, I will want to remember my children before they grew up and stuck me in a nursing home where I was forced to talk to boring old people ("Goodness! Back in my day, 'spam' wasn't something you got over the email, it was canned ham. We ate a lot of it when I was a child. It was cheap, and we didn't have a lot of money, but we did have a cat. Later on we had a dog. That dog was such a beggar, always hanging around the stove waiting for scraps, especially fried ham.. what was it called? Oh yes, Spam. Goodness! Back in my day, 'spam' wasn't something you got over the email...")
The Hurricane. He's 4. I get it. He's "busy." "Busy" I can handle. Openly defiant, bossy, mouthy, giving attitude, not listening.. I didn't really sign up for that. I signed up for one of those easy kids that other mothers seem to have.
The absolute worst crazy-maker: he specifically, repeatedly, does things he knows are wrong. Oooooohhhh, things like getting in his sister's face, getting into/playing with things that aren't his (laptop, phones, drawers, MY TRUCK, etc.), ripping all the pillows off the couches, dragging toys into the kitchen when I am cooking supper, and generally making a giant mess or a lot of noise (usually both) wherever he is. I know all of this is little stuff. It's just frustrating to be constantly saying the same things over and over.
He's still in the stage where he questions everything. "Who was that on the phone, Mom?" "What did you talk about?" "Did you talk about diapers on sale at Superstore?" "Tell me what your conversation said." I find that to be trying, at times, when I'm focused on something else.
Most of the discipline stuff that They (The All-Knowing They from the Fake Institute) recommend hasn't work until quite recently. I have tried the Usual Stuff. (And by "tried" I don't mean half assed it for a couple days and then gave up; I usually gave it at least a week or two to see if things improved.)
Time out? Just started working for us. Previously, I would have had to hog-tie the kid, as he was constantly leaving his time out chair. Hard to do when you've got a baby hanging off your boob and a toddler wandering around testing the strength of the furniture. With her face.
Taking priviledges away? Also only just started working for us in the last 6 months or so. Before that, he could not care less if we took away every toy, movie, tv show, special treat, and scrap of fun in his life. He did not have a currency of any kind.
Spanking: Oh yes, I spanked my kid. I'm not embarassed or guilty about it. However, it no longer works for me; the last time I spanked him, he laughed. Obviously, he doesn't take it seriously anymore, so I don't use it anymore. I still think it is a useful tool in the discipline toolbox. For a long time, it was the only way to get that child's immediate attention and let him know I was Serious Business. (Flame me if you want, but I don't buy into this "spanking is abuse" nonsense. Abuse is abuse; spanking is not.)
Soap in the mouth: tried this for potty mouth. Didn't work. Blew up in my face. "Mom, if I say a bad word can I have soap?" I shit you not.
Every moment I have spent seeing red and breathing hard and reminding myself that he's only four, I'm the grown up; he is my son and I would miss him if I went to jail; all of it is totally negated by the fact that he is my sweet child, my shy one, my thinker, my empathizer. The kid who wants to make sure everyone is part of the fun and no one is left out but is too shy to join in play until he is asked. My constant eater, who already needs to get a job so we don't end up in the poorhouse. My naive one, the one most like me, who believes what people tell him, even when he shouldn't. Like tonight, when he came into the bathroom sobbing so hard he could hardly get the words out, "The Giant Robot Daddy told me that my real Daddy went to Venus today and he's not coming back until tomorrow is that true Mommy?"
All of it sticks in my heart as I see him starting preschool in a couple of weeks. I want to go with him to make sure that the other kids like him, and accept him, and make sure he's not being bossy. I want to hold his hand and introduce him to the other kids; quietly remind him that he must be a good friend if he wants to have a good friend. I want to spare him the anxiety of being shy and feeling left out if no one asks him to play. I want him to listen to the teachers, and love learning and feel good about himself.
I know I can't do any of that. I have to let him go on his own and struggle his way through structured learning and finding his place in the pack of wild animals known as preschoolers. I can't believe my baby is going to school. This is a tough one.
The Hurricane. He's 4. I get it. He's "busy." "Busy" I can handle. Openly defiant, bossy, mouthy, giving attitude, not listening.. I didn't really sign up for that. I signed up for one of those easy kids that other mothers seem to have.
The absolute worst crazy-maker: he specifically, repeatedly, does things he knows are wrong. Oooooohhhh, things like getting in his sister's face, getting into/playing with things that aren't his (laptop, phones, drawers, MY TRUCK, etc.), ripping all the pillows off the couches, dragging toys into the kitchen when I am cooking supper, and generally making a giant mess or a lot of noise (usually both) wherever he is. I know all of this is little stuff. It's just frustrating to be constantly saying the same things over and over.
He's still in the stage where he questions everything. "Who was that on the phone, Mom?" "What did you talk about?" "Did you talk about diapers on sale at Superstore?" "Tell me what your conversation said." I find that to be trying, at times, when I'm focused on something else.
Most of the discipline stuff that They (The All-Knowing They from the Fake Institute) recommend hasn't work until quite recently. I have tried the Usual Stuff. (And by "tried" I don't mean half assed it for a couple days and then gave up; I usually gave it at least a week or two to see if things improved.)
Time out? Just started working for us. Previously, I would have had to hog-tie the kid, as he was constantly leaving his time out chair. Hard to do when you've got a baby hanging off your boob and a toddler wandering around testing the strength of the furniture. With her face.
Taking priviledges away? Also only just started working for us in the last 6 months or so. Before that, he could not care less if we took away every toy, movie, tv show, special treat, and scrap of fun in his life. He did not have a currency of any kind.
Spanking: Oh yes, I spanked my kid. I'm not embarassed or guilty about it. However, it no longer works for me; the last time I spanked him, he laughed. Obviously, he doesn't take it seriously anymore, so I don't use it anymore. I still think it is a useful tool in the discipline toolbox. For a long time, it was the only way to get that child's immediate attention and let him know I was Serious Business. (Flame me if you want, but I don't buy into this "spanking is abuse" nonsense. Abuse is abuse; spanking is not.)
Soap in the mouth: tried this for potty mouth. Didn't work. Blew up in my face. "Mom, if I say a bad word can I have soap?" I shit you not.
Every moment I have spent seeing red and breathing hard and reminding myself that he's only four, I'm the grown up; he is my son and I would miss him if I went to jail; all of it is totally negated by the fact that he is my sweet child, my shy one, my thinker, my empathizer. The kid who wants to make sure everyone is part of the fun and no one is left out but is too shy to join in play until he is asked. My constant eater, who already needs to get a job so we don't end up in the poorhouse. My naive one, the one most like me, who believes what people tell him, even when he shouldn't. Like tonight, when he came into the bathroom sobbing so hard he could hardly get the words out, "The Giant Robot Daddy told me that my real Daddy went to Venus today and he's not coming back until tomorrow is that true Mommy?"
All of it sticks in my heart as I see him starting preschool in a couple of weeks. I want to go with him to make sure that the other kids like him, and accept him, and make sure he's not being bossy. I want to hold his hand and introduce him to the other kids; quietly remind him that he must be a good friend if he wants to have a good friend. I want to spare him the anxiety of being shy and feeling left out if no one asks him to play. I want him to listen to the teachers, and love learning and feel good about himself.
I know I can't do any of that. I have to let him go on his own and struggle his way through structured learning and finding his place in the pack of wild animals known as preschoolers. I can't believe my baby is going to school. This is a tough one.
Monday, September 7, 2009
Presidential Speech
Being Canadian, this doesn't really affect me. But it's my blog and I'll write what I wanna..
Whilst cruising on MckMama's BlogFrog community today, I came across a thread about President Obama's back-to-school speech, airing in US schools tomorrow. I was not entirely surprised by the lack of support for the speech on that community, as I do see quite a few Religious Right/Moral Majority/Extreme Conservative opinions voiced there.
I read the speech. Frankly, I thought it was fantastic, well written, and definitely something children should hear from the President. A Global National newsstory on TV showed a woman in Colorado being interviewed about this speech, and she was crying!! She said something along the lines of, "My children being forced to watch this.. I just get so upset!" I also read a few articles (and the message boards) on the internet. I was stunned. Parents threatening to pull their children from school in order to keep them from hearing a Presidential speech? Are you effing kidding me?! 'Obama is a pushing his politics on our children!' 'Obama is trying to indoctrinate our children into his socialist regime!' 'This is how Hitler and Stalin started!' 'Obama is trying to circumvent our authority as parents by speaking directly to our children!'
Say what?
I just don't get it. It's a fucking speech, people. A speech telling children not to believe that they will automatically grow up to be a rich entertainer, athlete, or reality TV star, but to stay in school. Maybe I'm dense, but I fail to see how that translates into: don't listen to your parents, kids, we're giving away free haircuts for all who join Obama's Cult! Socialism is the new 'navy'!
So, friends, I am curious as to what you think of this kerfuffle. American friends, will you be keeping your kids home or are you going to let the Government poison your childrens' minds in order to control them and turn them into Godless Homosexual Socialists on Welfare?
Whilst cruising on MckMama's BlogFrog community today, I came across a thread about President Obama's back-to-school speech, airing in US schools tomorrow. I was not entirely surprised by the lack of support for the speech on that community, as I do see quite a few Religious Right/Moral Majority/Extreme Conservative opinions voiced there.
I read the speech. Frankly, I thought it was fantastic, well written, and definitely something children should hear from the President. A Global National newsstory on TV showed a woman in Colorado being interviewed about this speech, and she was crying!! She said something along the lines of, "My children being forced to watch this.. I just get so upset!" I also read a few articles (and the message boards) on the internet. I was stunned. Parents threatening to pull their children from school in order to keep them from hearing a Presidential speech? Are you effing kidding me?! 'Obama is a pushing his politics on our children!' 'Obama is trying to indoctrinate our children into his socialist regime!' 'This is how Hitler and Stalin started!' 'Obama is trying to circumvent our authority as parents by speaking directly to our children!'
Say what?
I just don't get it. It's a fucking speech, people. A speech telling children not to believe that they will automatically grow up to be a rich entertainer, athlete, or reality TV star, but to stay in school. Maybe I'm dense, but I fail to see how that translates into: don't listen to your parents, kids, we're giving away free haircuts for all who join Obama's Cult! Socialism is the new 'navy'!
Also, I am aware of the lesson plan that teachers were to give to students to go along with the speech that asked kids to write a letter to the President explaining what they could do to help (or "serve") him. Yeah, I agree it sounds funky (borderline free-haircut), but the wording has since been changed.
Honestly, why all the haters? I have to echo a comment I read on a few pages: if a conservative were giving this speech, would conservatives still be so up in arms? If George W. Bush (who I think was quite possibly the worst President, ever) gave this speech to kids, I would still allow them to listen: it's the content that matters.
Even if I didn't agree with the content, I would still let my kids hear it. Why? Because it's the President. (Or, in Canada's case, the Prime Minister.) Because my kids need to understand that the world is not filled with people who think exactly like their parents. Any political speech my kids hear will be followed closely by me talking to my kids about it. Does anyone want to raise robot children who are clones of themselves and don't have their own original thoughts? I don't.
Honestly, why all the haters? I have to echo a comment I read on a few pages: if a conservative were giving this speech, would conservatives still be so up in arms? If George W. Bush (who I think was quite possibly the worst President, ever) gave this speech to kids, I would still allow them to listen: it's the content that matters.
Even if I didn't agree with the content, I would still let my kids hear it. Why? Because it's the President. (Or, in Canada's case, the Prime Minister.) Because my kids need to understand that the world is not filled with people who think exactly like their parents. Any political speech my kids hear will be followed closely by me talking to my kids about it. Does anyone want to raise robot children who are clones of themselves and don't have their own original thoughts? I don't.
So, friends, I am curious as to what you think of this kerfuffle. American friends, will you be keeping your kids home or are you going to let the Government poison your childrens' minds in order to control them and turn them into Godless Homosexual Socialists on Welfare?
Saturday, September 5, 2009
The Alpha Male
Hubby and I went to the IMCA Modifieds SuperNationals (open-wheel racing!) tonight. On the way home, we started discussing what he was going to buy next for his pickup. First, he wants the chrome exhaust stacks, and then he is going to get some KC lights because his last pickup had KC lights and he sure misses them. I did mention that we are hillbillies, right? Ok, good. In case you don't know what KC lights are, see below.
On his old pickup, Hot Stuff had four mounted on his front grill (as above), four mounted on the roof of his cab facing forward, and two mounted on the roof of the cab facing backwards. Why backwards, you ask? Because if someone had the sheer audacity to tailgate him, flashing the brake lights simply would not suffice. It would be far more effective to flip on your rear KCs and temporarily blind the jerk behind you.
It was at this point (after only 6 years of marriage) that I realized I married an Alpha Male. Intrigued by this thought, I did a bit of surfing, got completely distracted for an hour, and sort of found what I was looking for. Traits of the alpha male include natural leadership skills (check), physical attractiveness (oh hell yes check), confidence (check), assertiveness (check), aggressiveness (check), demanding (check), egocentric (mm-hmm), constant need to reinforce own alpha status by dominating others (isn't how this started? Power struggle between alpha male and tailgater? Resulting in not just a show of dominance, but Scorched Eyeballs dominance).
I found a couple of "How to be an Alpha Male and Bang a Ton of Chicks" sites that included things like charisma and ability to make oneself the focus of a group, etc., but I'm not going there. I have no desire to Bang a Ton of Chicks. (Maybe one, I would. For fun. You know. If I was single. She'd have to be pretty hot. But not too hot, or I would feel inferior, and I can't get my freak on if I'm not feeling good about myself. Not hideous either, because that would throw my game off. And being a first-time lesbian, I wouldn't have much game. I'd have sweaty hands and the giggles. I don't need to be worried about saying inappropriate things like, "Ooh baby, it makes me so hot when you tickle me with your knuckle hair," on top of it. Not that looks count for that much, I'm not that shallow. So maybe one of us should be blind [and by 'one of us' I specifically mean the person who is not me], so the other person doesn't get wrapped up with body images. Blinding another person sounds extreme, so maybe we could just do it in the dark. Or wear blindfolds. Also, I'm going to put it on the table right now that I am not going to be responsible for the dental dam. I'm new at this and I don't need the extra stress. Just sayin'.)
But I digest.
Are these characteristics specific to alpha males? Or are they sprinkled throughout the male population? In my hour long Magical Mystery Tour across the internet, I couldn't find a definitive answer. What does it say about me (or any woman), that I am attracted to this type? Mainly, I think, it says that I had too much time on my hands and decided to fill it with a difficult man. But again, most men are difficult in some way, and isn't 'too much free time and not enough stress' the reason why most women get married? And honestly, I got tired of taking out the garbage myself.
On his old pickup, Hot Stuff had four mounted on his front grill (as above), four mounted on the roof of his cab facing forward, and two mounted on the roof of the cab facing backwards. Why backwards, you ask? Because if someone had the sheer audacity to tailgate him, flashing the brake lights simply would not suffice. It would be far more effective to flip on your rear KCs and temporarily blind the jerk behind you.
It was at this point (after only 6 years of marriage) that I realized I married an Alpha Male. Intrigued by this thought, I did a bit of surfing, got completely distracted for an hour, and sort of found what I was looking for. Traits of the alpha male include natural leadership skills (check), physical attractiveness (oh hell yes check), confidence (check), assertiveness (check), aggressiveness (check), demanding (check), egocentric (mm-hmm), constant need to reinforce own alpha status by dominating others (isn't how this started? Power struggle between alpha male and tailgater? Resulting in not just a show of dominance, but Scorched Eyeballs dominance).
I found a couple of "How to be an Alpha Male and Bang a Ton of Chicks" sites that included things like charisma and ability to make oneself the focus of a group, etc., but I'm not going there. I have no desire to Bang a Ton of Chicks. (Maybe one, I would. For fun. You know. If I was single. She'd have to be pretty hot. But not too hot, or I would feel inferior, and I can't get my freak on if I'm not feeling good about myself. Not hideous either, because that would throw my game off. And being a first-time lesbian, I wouldn't have much game. I'd have sweaty hands and the giggles. I don't need to be worried about saying inappropriate things like, "Ooh baby, it makes me so hot when you tickle me with your knuckle hair," on top of it. Not that looks count for that much, I'm not that shallow. So maybe one of us should be blind [and by 'one of us' I specifically mean the person who is not me], so the other person doesn't get wrapped up with body images. Blinding another person sounds extreme, so maybe we could just do it in the dark. Or wear blindfolds. Also, I'm going to put it on the table right now that I am not going to be responsible for the dental dam. I'm new at this and I don't need the extra stress. Just sayin'.)
But I digest.
Are these characteristics specific to alpha males? Or are they sprinkled throughout the male population? In my hour long Magical Mystery Tour across the internet, I couldn't find a definitive answer. What does it say about me (or any woman), that I am attracted to this type? Mainly, I think, it says that I had too much time on my hands and decided to fill it with a difficult man. But again, most men are difficult in some way, and isn't 'too much free time and not enough stress' the reason why most women get married? And honestly, I got tired of taking out the garbage myself.
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
Kittens For Sale
2 Kittens available.
Older kitten is a 4 year old short hair with blue eyes. VERY rambunctious, requires a lot of space to run and play. Cannot be confined, refuses to be crated for bed. Wakes up very early in the morning and digs in cupboards. A steal for $1 bazillion OBO
Younger kitten is almost two years old, light colored long hair also with blue eyes. Loud, makes a lot of noise. Gets into everything. Clumsy as hell, but very entertaining. Price reduced to $1 kajillion OBO
Both kittens are extremely cute and very well behaved at other people's houses, but are hellacious at home. They eat a lot of kibble, so please do not call unless you have lots of money and can afford to feed them. Unlike other cats, these cats do not sleep (or even give the mama cat an hour's rest!) during the day.
Would like both to go to same home close by so mama cat can visit frequently.
Older kitten is a 4 year old short hair with blue eyes. VERY rambunctious, requires a lot of space to run and play. Cannot be confined, refuses to be crated for bed. Wakes up very early in the morning and digs in cupboards. A steal for $1 bazillion OBO
Younger kitten is almost two years old, light colored long hair also with blue eyes. Loud, makes a lot of noise. Gets into everything. Clumsy as hell, but very entertaining. Price reduced to $1 kajillion OBO
Both kittens are extremely cute and very well behaved at other people's houses, but are hellacious at home. They eat a lot of kibble, so please do not call unless you have lots of money and can afford to feed them. Unlike other cats, these cats do not sleep (or even give the mama cat an hour's rest!) during the day.
Would like both to go to same home close by so mama cat can visit frequently.
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