The Hookers Gave Me Some Disease

Hello, Wifers.

I am sick.  I suppose one should assume that one will pick up some kind of disease at a hooker convention, but still, I was taken off guard.  I am now hacking up a lung regularly, much to the great joy of my co-workers and dining companions.

So last Friday morning I packed up all of my hooker equipment (rug hooking, for the newer readers) and set off in the swagga wagon for Lenexa, Kansas.  It is a seven hour trip from my house to Hooker Heaven, and while I managed to have a mostly uneventful trip weather-wise, I did have one stereotypical Missouri moment.  I need to fill up the tank and get a Diet Coke, so I took the next exit that had a gas station.  Oddly, most of the pumps had a bag over the handle, or a tag on it, but I finally found a pump that seemed to be operable.  I put it in and got back in the van to wait.  I few minutes later, I look out of the window, and the pump says I've only registered about $2.15 of gas in the tank, so at $3.26 a gallon, something has gone awry.  I look up, and there is gas flowing from the top of the hose at the very top of the filling station area, so there is gasoline running down the hose and onto the ground. 

My first thought was "I'm gonna blow this mother sky high."

But then I realized most of the gas had soaked into the snowbank around the pumps, so maybe I had a chance.  I got out of the van, replaced the pump handle, and moved the van.  I walked into the station to tell someone about the flammable liquids pooling around the ground around their gas station.  I looked around the room, and realized something terrible had happened in this town.  I'm going to start a charitable foundation for these people.  I'm going to go all Erin Brokovich on their asses, because they had obviously grown up on a toxic waste dump of some kind.

• Midget?  Check.
• No one with more than 12 teeth?  Check.
• Humpback? Check.
• Mullet as predominant hairstyle?  Check.
• Everyone sitting at a table and smoking eating Funyuns? Check.
• The strains of Deliverance playing in the background?   That might have been my head.

I said, "Hey, the gas is pouring out of the top of the pump onto the ground!"  They all slowly look at me, and the young gal/guy with the mullet said, "Huh."  I said, "So....you might want to shut it down or something."  And they said, "Huh."  And I said, "Okay then...thanks..." and backed slowly out of the door while they all sat and watched me until I pealed the hell out of there.

At the hooker convention, I made a big mistake - I wore black pants at a place where hooker wool was everywhere.  You heard me.  I got Hooker Wool all over my pants.  There are guys who would pay big money for that on the internet.  I made new hooker friends, drove home in seven hours and finished my last hour of the trip on the interstate in freezing drizzle and starting to hack my lungs out.

So I've just dosed on Nyquil for the third night in a row, I might have to join a twelve-step program to quit.  Particularly when I stayed up to watch the Oscars, and then had a Nyquil-induced dream about Colin Firth sending me a tool kit in the mail (for the hooker equipment) and asking me to run away with him, but I told him as much as I would love to, REALLY, he had a lovely Italian/Spanish-type wife and I had Current Husband, and it wasn't meant to be.  I'm hoping for similar Nyquil results tonight.  Wish me luck.

Bragging Mom Alert

So I've mentioned the Variety Show last Friday at our elementary school.  The Son lives for the Variety Show - he just loves it.  This is funny because I don't consider him a particularly showy kid.  He isn't the class clown or the ham, and while he isn't shy AT ALL, he isn't a Look At Me kid - until the Variety Show comes around.  A couple of years ago he told Current Husband and me that he wanted to do the dance from Napoleon Dynamite at the Variety Show, and I balked.  I thought, "someone is going to want to kick his ass."  And don't we all want to avoid having someone want to kick our kids' asses?

But CH, of all people, convinced me that it would be okay for him to do the dance.  It's just a grade school Variety Show, big deal, right?  Still, I worried.  I've posted this here before, but here it is again, because I am annoying like that:


And it was pretty cute.  Last year, he did the McDonalds Fast Food Freestyle from You Tube, which was cute, but not quite the same.

This year, he decided to do The Evolution of Dance from You Tube, and I have to say, I think he kind of nailed it.  The show is supposed to have acts limited to 3 minutes, and The Evolution of Dance is about 9 minutes, so we cut him off around 4 minutes.  You can't really tell because the stage lights are so bright, but he is wearing an Orange Crush t-shirt just like Judson Laipply.



The screaming is coming from a pack of 5th grade girls, but if you think they are screaming loud for him, you should have heard them screaming for the boy who sang "Love Me" by Justin Beiber before him. Back off, ladies, this one is mine for a little while longer.


His moves come from his father - I have no skills, but the baby Daddy can breakdance, even though he'll deny it. It's why I married him. (CH, you know it's true.)


Hope you are all having a great week - I'll report over the weekend on the Hooker Convention I'm attending this weekend, called a "Hook In". So THAT'S what they're calling it these days.

Hello? Is This Phil McCracken?

I think I may have mentioned before that my maturity level can dip to dangerously low levels.  Once, when Current Husband and I were out for drinks with another couple, they asked us what we thought our "spiritual ages" are.  I believe CH said his was somewhere around 30 - he may have been around 30 at the time - and I thought mine hovered somewhere closer to 17.  I'm going to be 42 in April, and yet, I still fall in love with bands, and have to listen to their music constantly; I eat complete junk with no regard to the fact that my metabolism has abandoned me completely; and I still laugh at farts and make sexual innuendos wherever I go.  Sometimes these traits are charming, but most often, they're just annoying to the adults in the room.  And I know a LOT of adults.

This is why I love me some Jon Stewart.  He has the intellect of an adult, but his sense of humor can frequently be of the nudge-nudge/wink-wink variety I love so much.  Last week, this segment was on his show, and I was literally crying with laughter.

The Daily Show - Harry Baals Government Center
Tags: Daily Show Full Episodes,Political Humor & Satire Blog,The Daily Show on Facebook

Oh Jon.  How I love you.

This bit reminds me of three things:

A)  I know someone whose maiden name was Sue Hunt, and she has a brother named Mike.  Really.  Perhaps it is his community center they speak of.

B)  In college, when I lived for a summer in the Lambda Chi fraternity house with a couple of my friends, a group of us stayed up one night making phone calls to people asking for Sharon Peters, Phil McCracken, and Anita Cox, just to name a few.  Oh, the hilarity.  I also remember a lot of beer being involved, a song written about a man who ate a whole shaved ham, and lots of pretend calls to 9-2-2, better known as the number for the WAAmbulance, as in, "I'm tired, I'm going to bed", and then "Someone call 9-2-2, she's bailing on us" and everyone says, "WAAAAAA!!!!!".  Honestly, that was the best summer of my life, because every night was just complete random hilarity.  And lots of beer - did I mention the beer?  I love my life now, but there is something special about being 21, single, responsibility-free and still believing the world is your oyster.  And thinking nothing of wearing a bikini. The last summer before reality set in.  *sigh*

C)  I owned a retail gift/home decor store for four years, and about six months after I opened, a woman wrote a check for her purchases.  Thankfully, I stuck it in the drawer without really looking at it, because that night when I was cashing out the drawer, I saw that her name was Sharon Peters.  And if I had seen that when she was standing there, I would have laughed out loud, and then probably tried to start a conversation with her about it.  I can't imagine that would have gone well.

I'm sorry about Friday's lack of Whoreticulture, I did have the Variety Show for our school that night, and it went about like you would expect a Variety Show to go...microphones running out of batteries, bad stage cues, and the finale song accidentally being switched to an instrumental CD instead of the one with the lyrics, so I had to walk on stage, interrupt the finale, and say we were starting over.  There goes the Oscar.  But the kids were cute and had fun, and the parents who volunteered on it with me were awesomesauce and they came over for a drink afterward to commiserate about our technical difficulties, so it all ended well. 

However, one tip to parents - when your child is in a show where multiple parents have put in numerous UNPAID volunteer hours, and your child hasn't shown up for ONE rehearsal?  And you admit you never checked your e-mail or your child's backpack for information about the show? Don't make your first comment to the coordinator, 10 minutes after the show has ended, about how you think it could be more organized and you'd like to offer some suggestions and bring a group of people in next year to help.  Because the coordinator JUST MIGHT be thinking about stabbing you in the calf.  That is all.

I'm going to try to post a video of The Son doing 4 minutes of Evolution of Dance in the next day or two, I think he is pretty awesome, but I'm slightly biased.  Happy Monday, and have a terrific week!

Stage Mom From Hell

It's official, I've become the Stage Mom from Hell.

This isn't because I want my kids to be famous, or to even be on the stage so much - it's because I'm the mom who coordinates the Variety Show for our elementary school.  This is my fourth year of involvement with the show, and every year I think,

"WHO IN THE HELL LET ME BE IN CHARGE OF ANYTHING?!?!"



I am an incredibly well-intentioned disorganized pre-Alzheimers perimenopausal woman.  It's a miracle some days that my own three kids get fed, clothed, and sent to school, so being in charge of other people's children scares the beJesus out of me.  I don't know how teachers do it.  It's harder to yell at children you aren't tied to by blood.  You can't say things like, "Practice lip-synching that Taylor Swift song better - I'm not your personal DJ!" or "Clean up that act, I'm not your maid!" or "Mommy needs her wine right now".

So the dress rehearsal is tomorrow night and the show is Friday night, at which time I will be walking around with huge red hives on my face, swimming in my own sweat and considering throwing up.  I don't know why I get so worked up about it.  I guess I'm always a bit of a PTA reject, and I enjoy the kids, but I fear judgement by other moms.  You think you're done with all of that craziness in Junior High, but I've learned that the mean girls are just as mean at 40, they're just more sly.  Most of the moms are great, but there's always The One.  I tend to make a spectacle of myself and then go home and think "WHY WHY WHY" while drinking my wine.  *sigh*  Then I hide for another year and come out of the cave when the Variety Show starts again.

I'll try to get Whoreticulture Friday in yet this week, but it might end up on Sextastic Saturday instead.  I hope you're all having a great week!!
 
p.s. The Son is doing "The Evolution of Dance" from You Tube, right down to the Orange Crush shirt, and if I may say so myself, he is nailing it.  That kid cracks me right up.

Happy Valentine's Day, Bitches!

Honestly, I have no idea why I just said that, but I'm going to tell you that for some odd reason, it felt good.  I swear that I am 100% sober.  But I am drunk on blog love.

Nigella Lawson said on NPR today that she is to Valentine's Day what The Scrooge is to Christmas, and I have to say that I'm a bit the same.  I love Current Husband, he loves me, that's super.  So why is it that I get irritated every Valentine's Day?  Let me give you my rundown of irrational reasons I'm bugged by Valentine's Day:

1. Flowers.  My sister-in-law owns a greenhouse, and this is one of her busiest days, so I hope you all buy flowers from your locally owned florist.  That said, I get really pissed at the pressure put on people to order flowers.  I would much rather get a random bouquet of flowers during the year for no good reason than to get flowers on V Day or birthday.  I did get flowers today, for probably the third time total in the 20 years I've been with CH, and they were lovely, but I was the only woman in the building who got them, and honestly I felt a little guilty, like I had to say, "No, really, I'm usually totally disappointed with the rest of you today."  Anniversaries, however, are flower occasions, especially on anniversaries divisible by five.  There were flowers at the wedding, it seems like a nice reminder.
2. Candy.  Sweet Baby Jesus, how much candy can I stuff in my craw in one day?  After Halloween, I ingest more chocolate today than during the rest of the year combined.  It's because everyone is getting chocolate, but no one wants to eat it all because we're all on the downside of eating ourselves into a coma from Thanksgiving through New Years and we're all thinking, "Oh hell, I'm fat again and swimsuit season is coming - please someone else eat the rest of this chocolate!"
3. Music.  I have to listen to the Top Hits station because of my teen/pre-teen, and have you heard some of what passes as relationship music?  Rihanna's new song is about S&M, it actually repeats "S S S S and M M M" and the chorus says "Sticks and stones may break my bones, but whips and chains excite me".  I'm sorry, aren't you the girl who was beaten silly by Chris Brown?  Who is your manager?  Then the rest of the songs are "Let's get drunk and crunk and glitter on the floor and take off our clothes and ride the disco stick".  But whatever you do, DO NOT KISS OR RESPECT ME.  Because then I will tire of you.  My God, I'm old.
4. Porn. I love the ads for Doctor John's porn shop or whatever it is, and they say, "Come here for all of your sex toy and fetish needs" and "It's Valentine's Day all year here!"  Yes!  My idea of Valentine's Day is a gag ball and leather studded chaps.  Giddyup, Valentine!  Now spank that ass!  And how many husbands are saying, "Yes, I need to get my special lady friend a Valentine's gift AND I  like porn, so I can hang out in this porn shop for a few hours, and then buy her a gift that says 'I intend for you to pleasure me this holiday'." Brilliant.
5. Dinner.  This one is Nigella's, not mine.  She said today that one reason she hates Valentine's Day is that some couples use it as the one night a year they go out for dinner, and then you end up in a restaurant with 20 couples who have nothing to say to each other.  I don't necessarily agree with Nigella on this one, because I am always up for an excuse to go out for dinner, but I do avoid VD because you can never get in anywhere because of the Valentine crowd.  I like to dine on the Thursday after, because it's quiet then.  Happy Valentine's Day, food.  I love you.

I'm not trying to bust St. Valentine's chops.  I think it's sweet and wonderful when someone takes a moment to appreciate the ones they love.  I just get annoyed when it's contrived because Hallmark and FTD guilt people into it, and then there are these expectations that can never be met.  And the guys who use it as an excuse to hang out in a porn shop and buy crotchless underpants for their 2-month girlfriend.  However, crotchless underpants after being together 20 or 30 years says, "Hey, I'm still curious about what I can talk you into" and shows interest.  Wanting to see someone in crotchless underpants at 45?  That's love, people.

Happy Valentine's Day, Wifers!  I give you all a big sloppy kiss!  And crotchless underpants!