Go See This Movie!

Yesterday Jamie and I went to see Walle. Now I don't want to get all Ebert on your ass, but if you don't see this movie (and I don't care if you have kids or not) you are nuts. Animation: Excellent. Storyline: Excellent. Humor: Excellent. Message: It will make you think.

'Nuff said... Now go see it and get back with me.

Marry Me!

Right now I am digging through my giant stack of marriage proposals for the sole purpose of being able to do this in front of everyone I know, because it's the best wedding song, ever!!!

Who says white folks can't dance?

Trading Spouses: Meet Your New Eyeballs

The voyeur in me loves to watch reality TV. Not that “Survivor” crap, (I would let the vultures do with you what they will!) but those shows that delve into the everyday lives of people doing whatever it is they do. One of my faves is “Trading Spouses: Meet Your New Mommy.” CMT bought the rights to it and airs old episodes most evenings and I find it fun to see what’s going to happen when Mommy A and Mommy B switch places and move into each other’s homes.

The most famous of all is the woman who called herself the “God Warrior” and has since become somewhat of a celebrity in her own right, but I think she’s just plain crazy and I’ll leave it at that. (Take a look if you’ve never seen it.) There are so many others that demonstrate both the transparency and true adaptability of some of these mothers. One that sticks out in my mind in particular was the episode where a vegan mom switched places with a mom from Louisiana whose husband was a gator wrangler. That was a trip. The vegan mom broke out her “Don’t Be Cruel To Chickens” video in the middle of her tofu-burger fest and everyone left as she proceeded to break down and weep for the chickens. Later, she kept on preaching to the group about why she eats cardboard, saying that “we really need to be careful about what we put into our bodies,” (I mean, just look at you people!) cut to the next scene, and she has a beer and a cigarette. No kidding. In the same episode, the gator mom wanted to cook authentic Louisiana jambalaya for her new family, but instead decided that she had to respect the family’s beliefs and modified her recipe so that it was vegan. They loved it, and her, and I thought that was really cool.

Last night was an especially interesting mom trade. Traci was from Scottsdale, Arizona. Her introduction was filmed in her giant bathroom while she was in mid-bubble bath, bragging about her Tuscany inspired manse and all its trappings. She had her perfect house with her perfect hair, perfect boobs, perfect husband and perfect kids. She just knew she could show her new family a thing or two about—what else?—being perfect. Penny, on the other hand, was a pine nut farmer from Licking, Missouri (I want to move there just so I can say I live in Licking). That’s right, “we’re in pine nuts” (At one point during the episode they were sewing up nut bags—I kid you not!—but I digress). Penny was all about getting dirty (both literally and figuratively). When she appeared at the airport to meet her new “husband,” she was wearing teddy bear slippers with her dress. Her explanation: “My husband gave these to me because I’m afraid of bears.” Um, whaaaa??? She was a trip, that’s for sure. She didn’t follow the herd, no way, but there was something about her. There was also something about Traci, only that “something” didn’t really blossom until near the end of the show. The mothers had spent a week with the other’s family. One week observing, interacting, taking it all in. Penny saw not perfection, but rejection and cruelty. That is, the Arizona family’s youngest child did not meet his father’s perfect standards and was reminded of that every day during whatever activity at which he was not perfect. As if that was not bad enough, he was constantly reminded how really perfect his older sibling was! Ugh. Penny caught on to this really quickly and invited the boy to take a walk and just talk. It was at this point that even I could feel the little guy’s heart breaking due to the lack of acceptance by his own father.

Meanwhile, back at the pine nut ranch, Traci finally decided that instead of sitting around surrounded by imperfection that she might help do something about it. She helped the dad organize his filing system. She helped sew up nut bags (ha ha I said nut bags—again!). She took the son shopping for a pair of tennis shoes (for which he was so incredibly grateful that it choked me up) and was finally able to see that just because these people didn’t have a lot of “stuff” that they were very rich indeed… Rich with love, acceptance and true affection for one another.

Each episode ends with a one-on-one meeting between the mothers to discuss the week’s events. Most times it’s a standoffish thing. Sometimes it’s even aggressive. These two embraced one another like I’ve never seen before and it was just so cool. Penny was grateful, gracious and accepting of Traci. Traci was equally so and asked Penny how her family was. In all honesty, Traci was told that her husband was fine, that son number one was fine but that son number two was NOT fine. (This is normally where the Springer rejects start throwing chairs, but not so in this case.) Traci already knew it deep down, she just needed a funny pine nut farmer in teddy bear slippers to say it out loud. She also needed to be told that her “perfect” husband was a heavy-handed control freak. Again, Traci knew it all along. The two mothers left their meeting arm-in-arm saying, “let’s go get ‘em,” and they did…

The final scene showed the moms back in their respective homes, reunited with their families. Penny was thrilled with the effort Traci had put forth regarding her business, but was more ecstatic just to be back with her loving family. Likewise, Traci was happy to see her husband and children again, but there was a marked difference in her attitude toward her youngest son. Traci’s husband, however, told the camera that he really didn’t think the experience had changed his wife at all. Then Mister Perfect got the surprise of his life when, at the very close of the show, his wife simply said, “no…”

Go get ‘em!

Bye, George...

George Carlin died yesterday in Los Angeles... What a genius that man was! I could sit here and bore you to death with Carlin quotes, but I won't. My tribute, intstead, is to share my favorite poem of his and ask what you might have liked about him...

So here's the poem... It's all about cuss words and I love it!!!

rat shit
bat shit
dirty old twat
sixty-nine assholes
tied in a knot
hooray!
lizard shit!
fuck!

Rest in peace, G... You will be missed.

"Y" Because We Like You

Here's Jamie's version of that mouse, Whatshisface...

This is what he copied it from:

I think going forward I'll put his pics on the dashboard, but wanted to post just this ONE more... (wink, wink!)

Out Of Order

Hey, everybody!!!

I know you waited with bated breath the entire weekend to read my posts and my comments and I do apologize... I hope you are OK now that you know I'm here and I promise to both enlighten and entertain you again shortly... Thanks for all the cards and letters.

Love,
Amy

P.S. My freakin' Internet was down all freakin' weekend!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! UGH.

More Drawrings

Some more of Jamie's artwork...

Man, my arm really hurts from Reenie twisting it so hard!!!

Did You Know You Can Mail A Coconut?

A few weeks ago, I opened my mailbox to find a coconut. Yes, you heard me, a coconut! It had been mailed to my son from Hawaii. It even had a stamp on the outside. The trinket was painted with the words "hang loose" and the hand-thingie they do out there, Brah...

It looked just like this:

My son drew this last night. He was sitting at the kitchen table drawing like he does many nights. I should have taken a picture of the coconut perched on my window sill so you could see how well he copied it. I think he has a good eye, and a future in something creative... So far, he's narrowed down his career choices to Animal Cop/Rock Star/Artist.

(All this ambition at the ripe old age of eight!)

After the "hang loose" picture was finished, he asked me to go look in the living room, where he had hung this from the mantle:

I asked him if he had copied this from something he saw and he said, "No, just my imagination."

Cool.

The last in the series is this one. For those of you who don't watch Family Guy, (oh and you should!) this is Brian, the dog/surrogate father of the family. It took Jamie about thirty minutes to convince Mama that this had not been traced. I'm adding the cartoon's actual illustration so you can see for yourself how good this is... Jamie even managed to credit TBS on this one. Ha!

Yes, I know Mama is bragging!

If I Won The Lottery

You know, it drives me crazy when I hear or read stories about people who have won the lottery and, when asked, say, "Oh I could never quit my job! I just wouldn't know what to do!"

Can I get a big SHUT UP???!!! Are you kidding me? That, my friends, would be the FIRST dang thing I would do. Next, I'd pay off all my debts, my family's mortgages and say bye because I'm moving somewhere tropical at least for a year where I can get away with as little clothing as possible and still stay within local custom. After that, we'll see...

What would you do if you won?

This guy, for one, is honest:

Walter!

OK, everybody, time to switch gears...

This is comedian Jeff Dunham and his pal, Walter. I think I like this so much because (if I'm not already) in about 30 years or so, I'll be just like Walter (only I think I'll skip the bowtie).

Enjoy!

Handcuffs And Crap, Part Two!!!

The cast of characters is as follows:

Jamie: My son
Mary Kate: My niece
Nonnie: My mom
Poppy: My dad

So you already know that Nonnie got Jamie some handcuffs yesterday. Aside from that, the kids went swimming in the lake, played on the playground and went to McDonald’s. According to the report I just received from my mom, she was long overdue for a nap (bless her heart! – Oh, by the way, that’s what we say in The South, “bless your heart.” As in, “She’s so tired, bless her heart,” or, “She’s so stupid, bless her heart.” It’s a universal term).

So she feels that the kids are fine since Jamie is watching a video and Mary Kate is working on one of her magazine projects (that means cutting out pictures) and she’ll go lay down. She says that shortly thereafter she heard crying—no— screaming. She thinks one of the kids must have fallen and runs to check. No one is “injured,” it’s just that it seems the key to the handcuffs no longer works and Mary Kate has been detained indefinitely. This doesn’t set well with MK, who can wail like nobody’s business despite her tiny frame. She is at this time doing so. Jamie is crying because he thinks he’s in trouble. Poppy is pissed because he can’t get the key to work, either. Mom is trying to keep herself together until Poppy returns with… Wait for it...

BOLT CUTTERS!!!!

Mom wants to know if I’ve ever seen a pair of bolt cutters. I tell her hell yeah I’ve seen bolt cutters!!! She says oh you should have seen how big Mary Kate’s eyes got!!! I can freaking imagine, Mom! At this point both Nonnie and Jamie are crying and Mary Kate is shrieking to high heaven. Here comes Poppy with the bolt cutters! (Hey, kid, as long as I have these out let’s take care of that loose tooth of yours!) Holy shit. Then about two seconds later Poppy takes the bolt cutters to the handcuffs and Mary Kate draws back a bloody stump… Just kidding. Free at last!!! Everyone is fine, now. I’m sure that my mom, though, who can barely drink one glass of wine, was shooting tequila until she passed out last night.

It’s only funny because no one got hurt. Oh and because I wasn’t there.

Handcuffs And Crap

My conversation on my way home last night with my son, who stayed the night with his cousin at my parents’ house:

Hi, Honey! How are you?
I’m fine.
What are you guys doing?
Just playing around.
That’s good. I’m glad you are having fun.
Guess what Nonnie bought me?
What?
You have to guess.
Some kind of candy?
No.
Some kind of game?
No.
I give up.
I’ll give you a hint: It has to do with the police.
Concert tickets?
What?
Never mind. A badge?
No.
(oh, please not) A gun?
NO.
What’d she give you?
Handcuffs!!!!
(Oh, lordy) Really?
Yeah. MK and I are playing “coppers.”
Did you arrest her?
Yeah!
Did you lock the handcuffs?
Yeah!
Do you have a key?
Yeah!
OK, well have fun and be careful! I love you.
OK... Mom what are you doing?
I’m on my way to your aunt’s house to pick up her dog.
Why?
Remember, he’s staying with us while they are out of town.
Oh, right… Mom?
Yes, Baby?
Just pray that he doesn’t crap on the rug again.

Is It Rude To Burp In Front Of The Governor?

So this afternoon the governor of our lovely state is coming for a visit with my boss and some other bigwigs in town. Today I plan to meet him (finally).

He’s been here a hundred times in the four and a half years I’ve worked here, but I have never gotten the chance to shake his hand. He seems like a decent guy, a real people-person and I would just like to say hello. Unfortunately, I am one of those employees that people seem to forget: You know, I’m just the Executive Assistant, (read: the one who makes sure all this shit gets done) so why bother?

Anyway, this morning I made it a point to tell my boss that I would appreciate being introduced. I mean, my vote carries as much weight as anyone else’s doesn’t it? He said sure. Cool.

Now I’m scared. Not intimidated-scared, but Arby’s Turkey-Bacon Wrap scared. WTF was I thinking? At lunch I was starving and it’s boiling hot outside and I didn’t want anything really “heavy” to eat so I thought I’d get me one of these wrap things and pretend it’s healthy. Only the wrap-thing has onions in it. Stupid me ate the onions. Now I am burping like crazy. Onion burps. Shit.

I can picture it, now: “I’m pleased to meet you, sir.” Braaaaaaap!!!

Maybe I should start cleaning out my desk right now.

The Ocean

My friend sent me this, a sample of what kids said when asked to write about the ocean…

Seems they have all been to my house…

1. This is a picture of an octopus. It has eight
testicles.(Kelly, age 6)

2. Oysters' balls are called pearls. (Jerry, age 6)

3. If you are surrounded by ocean you are an Island .
If you don't have ocean all round you, you are
incontinent. ( Wayne , age 7)

4. Sharks are ugly and mean, and have big teeth,
just like Emily Richardson. She's not my friend
any more. (Kylie, age 6)

5. A dolphin breathes through an asshole on the top
of its head. (Billy, age 8)

6. My uncle goes out in his boat with 2 other men and a woman
and pots and comes back with crabs.(Millie, age 6)

7. When ships had sails, they used to use the trade
winds to cross the ocean. Sometimes when the wind
didn't blow the sailors would whistle to make
the wind come. My brother said they would have been better
off eating beans.(William, age 7)

8. Mermaids live in the ocean. I like mermaids. They are beautiful
and I like their shiny tails, but how on earth do mermaids
get pregnant? Like, really? (Helen, age 6)

9. I'm not going to write about the ocean. My baby brother
is always crying, my Dad keeps yelling at my Mom, and my
big sister has just got pregnant, so I can't think what to write.
(Amy, age 6)

10. Some fish are dangerous. Jellyfish can sting.
Electric eels can give you a shock. They have to live
in caves under the sea where I think they have to
plug themselves into chargers. (Christopher, age 7)

11. When you go swimming in the ocean, it is very cold,
and it makes my willy small. (Kevin, age 6)

12. Divers have to be safe when they go under the water.
Divers can't go down alone, so they have to go down
on each other. (Becky, age 8)

13. On vacation my Mom went water skiing. She fell off when
she was going very fast. She says she won't do it again
because water fired right up her big fat ass. (Julie, age 7)

14. The ocean is made up of water and fish. Why the fish don't
drown I don't know.(Bobby, age 6)

15. My dad was a sailor on the ocean. He knows all about the
ocean. What he doesn't know is why he quit being a sailor
and married my mom. (James, age 7)

Somebody Call DHR... It's Amy's Kid!

Tuesday night I'm standing in the bathroom, staring into the mirror and wondering why the crap at the age of effing FORTY I am still getting pimples when I hear this mantra coming from the living room:

"Say hi. Say hi. You will respect me. You will respect me!"

At first I didn't pay much attention because I figured it was some game my son was playing with our hyper dog and she was barking right along.

(They do this chase-thing around the house about every night)

"Say hi. Say hi. You will respect me. You will respect me!"

There was a pause in footsteps and barking. I looked out into the hallway to see my son standing there with a basketball stuck in his boxer shorts. (Don't be TOO impressed... He's only eight and it was one of those mini-basketballs that you can play with indoors).

"Huuuunnnnneee!!!! Doooooonnn't!!!!" I pleaded.

He takes off down the hallway with the dog in tow.

"Say hi. Say hi. You will respect me. You will respect me!"

After he ran off I had to close the bathroom door because I was laughing so freaking hard I cried.

That's my boy!

Dear Mr. and Ms. A-Hole

Dear Mr. and Ms. A-Hole Moviegoers:

I realize that it’s a free country and you paid the same amount that I did to go see the Indiana Jones movie today. However, for future reference and for the sake of your fellow moviegoers you might want to think about the following next time you go:

It was Sunday at 11:30. There were a TOTAL of ten (yes, I counted) other patrons in the theater when you arrived. Therefore, we were all spaced out nicely and basically all had a row all to ourselves. Apparently you didn’t notice that. I mean, how often do you get to go to the movies and basically have your choice of 240 out of 250 seats? That must have been a shock and surprise to you because you chose to ignore the situation and sit at the end of our row at the top of the steps. Fine. That’s your prerogative. However, in civilized movie-going culture when someone needs to get past you, the tradition is that you will perform The Seat Shift. Since you were obviously not familiar The Seat Shift, I shall describe it for you:

Moviegoer A (in this case, ME) whispers, “excuse me” as he/she attempts to move out of the aisle. Moviegoer B (in this case, YOU, Ms. A-Hole) performs The Seat Shift. The Seat Shift can be accomplished in two different ways.

Method One: Moviegoer B swings their feet, via butt cheek rotation, to the opposite site of their seat, therefore allowing a reasonable space by which Moviegoer A can pass as swiftly and efficiently as possible and get to the restroom without missing too much of the film. In your case, however, the “excuse me” was met with zero reaction and zero Seat Shift.

Method Two would have been appropriate in combination for both of you. Since you were on the end of the aisle at the top of the steps, Mr. A. In your case, (I'm talking to you, Mr. A-Hole) when I returned from my trip The Seat Shift With Leg Tuck would have been appropriate. i.e., scoot back in your seat therefore allowing you to tuck you feet beneath your seat for 1.5 seconds while I passed. Instead, you refused to move and I ACCIDENTALLY stepped on the edge of your shoe and for which you gave me a nasty look. I apologized, but your SIGH indicated that my apology was not accepted. In the meantime, Ms. A-Hole, you could have again facilitated Method One and I would have returned to my seat without incident. Instead, you refused to budge and therefore forced ME to climb OVER YOU. Nice. Very, very nice indeed!

You know what, though? The next time the two of you go to the movies you might not encounter the polite, patient and sincere person you met today. Next time you might get the person that tells you to move the fuck out of the way. Next time you might meet a person that’s twice the asshole you both were put together.

May you have popcorn stuck in your gums for a month.

No Love,

Amy

This Is True Love

Today my friend and I were talking about our kids—he about the daughter that he completely adores, and who obviously adores him. I made the comment that I wished someone would talk to or about me the way he talks to and about her, but then I realized I already do…

I don’t know of a day that goes by that my son does not tell me I look “hot” or that he loves me or that I’m funny. Not a day goes by that I don’t tell him that he looks "cool" or that I love him (about nine hundred times) or that he does something that makes me laugh so hard that I snort.

I haven’t been so lucky in love, at least in the grown-up sense. However, I wouldn’t trade the true love, affection and utter joy that I feel every day when I am with my son for anything in the world. I’ve made a lot of mistakes, but my son is--by any stretch of the imagination--the best thing I ever did.

Lucky in love: I am!!!

Mister T

Yesterday morning, my son called me on his way to camp…

Hi, Mom!
Hey, Baby! How are you?
Guess what was on Miss M’s front porch this morning?
I don’t know, what?
Guess!
Uh… Flowers?
No.
Then, what?
You have to guess!
A present?
No!
I give up. What?
A snapping turtle!
What? No way!
Way.
You are kidding?

Sidebar: Not only is our area nowhere near close to water or any other turtle-friendly habitat that I know of, but the little booger had climbed the steps to get to the front porch… Eight of them, to be exact…

No, really!
How big was it?
About the size of a Frisbee!
You are kidding? What did you do? Did you touch it? What did Miss M say?
No, it was really big. We just left it there.
Did he ring the doorbell?
MOM!
Well then how did you know it was there?
We saw it when we were leaving for camp.

Then, last night on the way home…

That must have been a trip to see that turtle, huh?
(Laughing) Yeah! Hey, wanna know what he said?
What’s that?
Yo, man, where’s my room?

Ha.