slobber kisses for daddy...

daddy's definitely on the slobber kiss list today. that's because he spent hours and hours and hours last night trying to find insurance for the two-big-boys-who-will-not-go-to-school-or-get-jobs-or-move-out-of-the-house-or-clean-up-the-dishes-or-bathroom-for-that-matter. it's no real surprise that, once those two boys reached a certain age, daddy's company would no longer allow daddy to keep 'em on the family insurance plan, unless they happened to be "full-time students", which, if you had been reading-not-skimming through everysinglewordijustwrote, you'd know, they're not. i'm pretty sure this hasn't been a fun task for daddy... checking out all those companies, reading through all those policies (so many worms, so little time!). still, daddy did it. and, trust me, mommy knows he was a busy little insurance-huntin' beaver, because manymany of the companies daddy sent e-mails to have called here... causing mommy to have to do something she really hates to do. talk to salespeople on the phone. but she does it, and she does it, willingly. she does it for daddy. yep, she tells the nice, eager salespeople that she will happily take down their names and numbers, so she can have daddy call them later.

i probably don't need to tell you, but this is pretty much how mommy handles all money-related transactions that she finds boring (like mortgages, taxes, and, user instructions for her ipod mini...). she knows it's wrong. she's nothing, if not a feminist who believes in shared responsibilities. alas, she can't help it. mommy's eyes get crossed every time she tries to read all those worms that comprise big, important phrases like --in this case-- "primary health-care provider" or "major medical with small meaningless deductible of a paltry $45,000 and/or your first born grandchild, whichever comes first" or "subject to magnifying glass-like scrutiny of monkeys up their ass insurance form scrutinizers". mommy just can't process all this stuff. so, she 'let's' daddy do it. then, everyone is happy. except, maybe daddy, because, why should he have to suffer through enough terminology to gag a maggot? why? because he can. and because he will. my daddy has such an amazing zen approach to so many of life's difficulties, large and small, that he is, indeed, the world's greatest problem solver. how, you ask, does he do it? i haven't a clue... maybe he channels some of bobo's inner dalai. it doesn't really matter. he gets shit done. and that's why he's gettin' a face-full of big, wet slobbery kisses as soon as he gets home. and, when mommy's done, i might give him one or two, myself.

"I know the answer! The answer lies within the heart of all mankind! The answer is twelve? I think I'm in the wrong building." ~ Charles M. Schulz (Peanuts)

and you thought you were clumsy...

i was just reading 4this story3 (on cnn.com) about a guy that tripped in a museum and managed to smash not one, not two, but three chinese vases from the qing dynasty. how embarrassing would that be? i mean, you're trotting along, nice as ya please one minute, and, next thing ya know, yer trippin' on one of yer own shoelaces and whammo! you've single-handedly demolished several priceless antiques in a matter of moments. whoa.

well kids, that story, along with posts about clumsiness on a couple of mommy's favorite blogs (sweetney -- who's little bunny girl actually took a nasty tumble) and miss ann thrope -- who's husband actually posted a hilarious story about a...er... um... nasty tumble-ish mishap involving, but not limited to, a stuck window and some blinds), got me thinking about a few silly mishaps mommy's had over the years... okay okay... actually, it was these tales of real and/or imagined clumsiness coupled with the recent miss america pageant that actually sparked this rumination, if you really have to know (and, apparently you do).

suffice it to say that mommy is, in fact, clumsy. clumsy in the juggling of eggs that fall to the floor because she doesn't know how to juggle clumsy. clumsy in the carting through the grocery store and jars of spaghetti sauce/ strained carrots/ pickles/ salad dressing slip out of her hand and fall/break in the middle of the aisle clumsy. clumsy in the trying to iron the collar of a shirt while it's on her actual body and burns her chest leaving a mark in the shape of the iron in a spot easily viewed by anyone interested in viewing such things clumsy. so, basically, she's pretty clumsy. what? you ask...you mean there's more?.... oh yes. just let me count the ways (the ways that tie in with the clumsy/beauty pageant theme i kind of decided to go with here)...

1. while participating in a local beauty/talent pageant in her long-forgotten-youth, mommy caught the heel of her shoe in the hem of her gown, and ripped and tripped her way down the ramp. her turns in front of the judges were a wonder to behold i wonder why she decided to run in this pageant? one judge was overheard to say. i wonder if she's ever worn high-heels before, said another. i wonder how she's gonna do in the state pageant, since those idiot judges still allowed this graceless cow to win! muttered the disgruntled parent of one of the loser contestants...

2. mommy sang her little heart out, and won the talent competition at the state pageant. she did not win the poise and/or swimsuit portion of the contest, and she told a somewhat questionable joke to the judges in her interview. nevertheless, she was invited back to perform again the following year.

3. for her big performance the next year, her older sister (sometimes referred to, by her other two sisters as quirky, for reasons that will in no way be apparent here, and puh-leese don't tell her, 'cuz it'll only hurt her feelings) made mommy a lovely outfit of satin and some kind of organdy-ish material (i have no idea what organdy is... just try to picture something flow-y and you'll get the idea). it was a fetching little number, too... really cool wide legged hip hugging pants paired with a cleavage-enhancing halter top (this was in the 70's, mind you... so, overall, it was kind of risque for the day). mommy felt very special in her outfit, and hoped her performance would be memorable. it was. mommy totally rocked a crowd of around 1500 people. rocked 'em right up to the last note, for which she took in an extra gulp of air to ensure she'd hit and sustain the very last note of barbra streisand's "sweet inspiration". only, when she took that last, dee-e-ep breath, both hooks on the back of her halter top popped, rendering mommy... topless. in a state pageant. a televised state pageant. televised in the state of california.

4. mommy got over it and, tho' she was never invited to perform in that televised state pageant again, she did get to perform on big deal stages a few more times, until that one, fateful night in fresno, when she was hosting yet, another pageant. for her opening number, she planned to step onto the extended ramp from out front, by the audience, where she was then gonna belt out her song and boogie her way up to the actual stage. instead of that dynamic start, however, while trying to run past the orchestra in order to be in place when her music started, mommy slipped. long story short, she tripped and fell down on her hands and knees in a flowing evening gown, in front of manymanymany hundreds of people. she still got up on that stage, however, and she still sang. and she limped badly throughout the entire night. she did not boogie up, down, or across the stage and/or ramp. and the people laughed at her. a lot. after that, she never got asked to perform much. (that's why she joined the band).

so mommy's had more than her fair share of clumsiness related mishaps, and, thus far, she's none the worse for the wear. in fact, and, in conclusion (oh, and thank god for that because this post is starting to be a real pain in my ass and i'm pretty freaking sure it's time for me to go to bed) mommy's quite certain none of her careless -- albeit embarrassing -- flips and/or flops could ever top the dumb-ass kill me, kill me now clumsiness of... 4this guy3.

i'm gonna kick some ass...*

(and take names later)...there is nothing worse (nothing!) than not being able to load shit up on your computer when you know you have a high speed connection and should, therefore, be able to do anything you want as fast as you want. however, when said connection is shared by not one, but two, big boys who hog whatever it is that gets hogged when they're both online downloading whatever it is that they download, said connection is highly compromised, and rendered, therefore, useless. and, my friends, useless is what those boys' toes will be when i finish with 'em. maybe later i'll be able to tell you about mommy's upcoming trip to new mexico -- which means mommy has to pack, which means mommy's gonna be freaking out soon because she reallyreally hates to pack -- but i'll not be telling you that, or any other tale of any remote interest anytime soon. but i'll be back... oh yes, i'll be back, and then i'm gonna kick some computer ass.

* just because things are moving slow in my world and on my computer doesn't mean you should have to suffer... daddy just updated his blog template (apparently he thought it needed a face-lift so he gave it one--seems a little vain to me, but what do i know? tee hee) anyway, it does look nice... so, why not stop by over there, say "howdy", take yer shoes off 'n set a spell, and, for god's sake, tell daddy you like what he's done with the place... even if you don't. (i don't think i can take listening to the racket of another re-modeling!) besides, daddy's always good for a few laughs...maybe, if you're lucky, he'll even tickle your tummy rub your tummy pat you on the head and tell you you're a good little girl. 4bobo banjoey3

PROGRAM - n. A magic spell cast over a computer allowing it to turn one's input into error messages. v. tr.- To engage in a pastime similar to banging one's head against a wall, but with fewer opportunities for reward. ~ Unknown (courtesy Great-Quotes.com)

dalai bobo's...

...thought for the week

"He is able who thinks he is able." ~ Buddha

we loves us the weekends...

i love 'em, naturally, because my daddy's home, and that means i get double --maybe even triple -- the attention i usually get, which always works for me...

bobo loves 'em, 'cuz there's always a better chance we'll get to go out for fun frolics in the front yard. and, if he's really lucky, he'll get to go with mommy and daddy for a walk... oh rapture!

now max, as you might imagine, couldn't begin to tell you what day of the week it is to save his ever-lovin' wussy life. however, things are probably easier for him on the weekends, because he has mommy and daddy to protect him from big, bad, me. (have you ever heard of such a thing? i mean, i'm just a little puppy-girl... i wouldn't hurt a fly. altho', i guess max does tend to get on my nerves quite a little bit, now that i think about it for more than a tick.) anyway, he'll mos..... huh? what in the ...??

aieeeee!!! ack! gross out alert!! we interrupt this post to bring you this story mommy just read on 4cnn.com3 about crushed bug juice in lipsticks and yogurt and a lot of other shit that you, if you're anything like mommy, will find utterly disgusting. what's worse, apparently the juice, made from the crushed bodies of cactus sucking bugs, is an actual ingredient in these items. items that also include baby foods, juices, and... candy! items the fda has only just now decided you need to know about. the fact that bug juice has been used as an ingredient for years and years and years is of little consequence to mommy, what completely pisses her off is knowing that these companies are only just now being required to identify the f*cking buggish ingredients on product labels. she's also veryveryvery grossed out, so, after she's finished gagging, mommy is gonna go through her lipstick collection and throw anything remotely red in the trash (that may take some time). then, she plans to tackle the fridge (which will take less time, since there's never much in there...) so much for our weekend of fun frolicking and quiet contentment. yeesh.

"I am so busy doing nothing... that the idea of doing anything - which as you know, always leads to something - cuts into the nothing and then forces me to have to drop everything." ~ Jerry Seinfeld

why it's (sometimes) a good thing...

the 2 big boys still live at home. how else would i know about 4this3? (courtesy royal canadian air farce)

could you say no...

...to this face?

if you're mommy, the answer is no. this is the look bobo uses when he wants to go with mommy for a walk. and it always works.

all things monkey...

(sort of)
last night, mommy & daddy watched another episode of love monkey... a show that's, apparently, growing on them, tho', i might add, they still think it has a few awkward kinks in it. they think it's supposed to be an ensemble-ish dramady, but some of the on-sohm is a little bleh... they're not sure all the characters are gonna make the cut as the story-lines get more developed. that said, overall my people think love monkey does have a lot of potential, enough to make 'em stick around for a few more weeks. one character they are truly impressed with, by the way, is the "unknown" young singer/composer with an amazing talent, who is discovered by tom cavanaugh's character. this "discovery" is played by a young man named teddy geiger, who, in real life, is only 17, and has an amazing talent. in fact, this kid is a songwriting prodigy (and self-taught musician -- by the time he was 8, this kid was composing and arranging music for guitar and piano. by way of comparison, let's just say mommy was playing with her first barbie doll around that same age, and leave it at that...). if possible, teddy geiger is even more adorable than tom cavanaugh (and we've already established the fact that he's "cute as a button"). okay, that's all i'm gonna say, for now, about love monkey. otherwise i might fall back into a cotton-spitting stupor again, and we can't have that, can we? no... there'll be no more talk of love monkey, today.

moving right along, one of the biggest pains in the ass for mommy, is the nightly quandry of "what to have for dinner". two nights ago, mommy's decision was made oh-so-much easier due to the fact that daddy was out-of-town, and she only had to worry about herself and one of the boys. she prepared a delicious meal of grilled cheese sandwiches, complemented by a container of applesauce. of course, since daddy wound up returning home in time for a late nite bite, and he was hungryhungryhungry, mommy had to leap into action and whip up a nutritious emergency meal, which was, of course, a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. it, too, was delicious. (this picture, obviously, is not of a sandwich, but the 4peanut butter jelly song3 cracks mommy up so much i decided to use the illustration from the stupid video. sorry. by the way, daddy didn't realize there was audio with this little clip, but there is, so crank up the volume! otherwise, it's just stupid cheesy animation.) now, where was i? oh yeah... last night mommy realized there was nothing good to eat in the house so she decided they'd have chinese, which she then ordered from one of their favorite restaurants. deciding what to order is easy for mommy, because she always gets the veggie lo mein and mu shu vegetable, which daddy likes, too. but the boys were a different story. the younger boy nearly opted for crispy sesame shrimp, described as "a remarkable dish that consists of jumbo shrimp marinated & quickly fried w. crispy, then topped w. our unbendable sesame sauce". yum, the boy said, i love their unbendable sesame sauce. but, ya know, maybe i should have the dragon and the phoenix, which has lobster in a szechuan chili sauce that's spicy and inviting on the other is house special chicken. which never falls in delighting. can't go wrong with something that "never falls in delighting", can ya?. the other boy considered the plumb duck, until he noticed that it was the perfect dish for an evening of wine & rose. certain it wouldn't be the same without wine & rose, he opted, instead, for monkey balls. (kidding! i kid! i was just trying to tie this back to the aforementioned theme of "all things monkey". sorry.)

one highlight i failed to mention yesterday, was the fact that, 4 days after his birthday, the the boy (formerly known-for a day-as-"the birthday boy") finally opened his presents!!!! sadly, there was nothing delicious in any of those gaily wrapped packages, but the boy did seem pleased to get dave barry's new book, money secrets, (which seems like something the boy might need/want to learn about veryvery quickly). the boy also received a cd on learning to speak chinese (because that's what the boy asked for and who knows or cares to know why...), the complete set of seasons 1 & 2 of battlestar galactica on dvd (because science fiction is alive and well in this household)... blahblahblah other stuff (because i can't remember), and... ta-da! a stuffed monkey. a stupid stuffed purple monkey. (because... because... well, because.)

now that the weekend is here, mommy and daddy are looking forward to more entertaining--albeit violent--viewing... no, they'll not be watching football (are there any games this week? didn't think so, but ya can never be too sure.). no, kids, i'm sorry to say, my people will be firmly ensconced in their couches watching one of their new favorite programs, law and order: criminal intent. how sad is it, anyway, that they now have, like, a dozen, episodes recorded on their tivo? or that trying to outguess detectives on a whodunnit show would provide them with so much enjoyment. have they no life? oh, wait, heh heh, after reading through daddy's 4blog3, i only just this minute realized, the answer to that is... no.

"Guns don't kill people, people kill people, and monkeys do too (if they have a gun)." ~ Eddie Izzard

potheads & pissed-off moms...

mommy thought about being annoyed today... in fact, she was working on a very powerful piss-off, directed mainly at the younger boy, who went to bed veryvery late last night without locking the front door. he does this often, usually after he's been "hanging out" with one or two of his so-called friends. mommy and daddy know what "hanging out" really means... and they don't like it. not one little bit. because, you see, this boy is their treasured child, and they love him so-much-it-hurts, and they always have. why, as a baby, he was so precious, so delicious, he could make mommy cry. in fact, he was so completely adorable, mommy often jokes that daddy fell in love with him before he fell in love with her (mommy was 6 months pregnant when she first met daddy). they both lovingly remember him as a gorgeous chubby baby boy with fat rosy cheeks, tousled blond curls, who was precocious to a fault. he was, according to my people, a living doll.

but now, it seems, their "baby", (who stands over 6 feet 5 inches tall, not that anyone asked), has found himself in a bit of a funk. a funk that involves "hanging out" with his so-called friends so much he's actually dropped out of college and has been suspended from his cushy little job at starbucks (where mommy & daddy enjoyed the perk (ahem) of getting their triple-grande-soy-no-whip-mochas at a major discount or, sometimes, for free.). i hasten to add that my people don't mind the fact that the boy (along with the older boy, for that matter) has messed up, or that he's trying to "find himself". they both think that will happen in good time, because he's got a lot going for himself. he's a heck of an artist, and quite gifted on the stage. they also know that, despite the fact that he's very bright, he's had to struggle with attention deficit disorder all his life, which made his earlier years very difficult. and then there's that semi-debilitating case of ocd (which, interestingly enough, gets worse after he "hangs out" with his so-called friends). all in all, my people know it's not easy being him, sometimes, and they respect that. still, it's not too much to expect the boy to remember to lock the freaking front door, is it? i mean, how hard is that?

ah, but i said mommy was working on being pissed-off, right? you see, as she was gearing up for a major rant and rave, she reminded herself of a few things that made her feel better: A) the boy's been a bit of a screw-up lately, but, overall, he has manymanymany redeeming qualities, therefore B) this is just a phase. a stupidshittyf*ckingannoying phase that he has to work through, C) he'll work though it, eventually, D) being pissed-off is a waste of energy and/or time, and, 5) life is wa-a-y too short to spend it being pissed-off at things she can't control.

ya know, mommy doesn't always listen to messages from herself... fortunately for everyone around here, today, she did.

"Growl all day and you'll feel dog tired all night." ~ Source Unknown (courtesy great-quotes.com)

how do ya feed a hungry man?

a man who left his home at 6am in order to catch a flight down to atlanta, where he worked all day and got no food, and then raced back to the airport just so he could get home in time to sleep in his own bed with his wife? well, if you're mommy, you feed that most special of all men...peanut butter 'n jelly.

the tree guys/fence guys are... back!

hooray! whee! yippee!! one need only look out the back window to see the yard fairly bursting with tree guy/fence guy activity. power saws a'buzzin'! sweaty men a'carryin' arms full of fallen timber! branches & large chunks of wood a'chippin'!

oooh! and looky over there! fence guys have already finished with at least part of their attempt at a'mendin'! and i'm quite sure no one will ever be able to tell which section of the fence was damaged in the first place! i mean, that new piece blends in so well, don't ya think?

anyhoo, with all the hubbub, bub, can normal life be far behind? i think not.

did i mention the fact that i'm not feeling terribly bloggish today? apparently, in my little world, this is a slow news day. so there's that. then, to make matters boring, daddy's in atlanta for the day...which means he's not providing me with any inspiration, either. what can i say? this is why i gave you that link to dave barry's website, in my earlier post. you want entertainment? go there.

the blog that ate my brain!

(dave barry alert)

i know i'm not the first... i know i won't be the last... never-the-less, my bloggish brain is blocked, today. since there's nothing worth reading here, kids, why not check out a website chock full o' silliness... courtesy of the one, the only, the deliciously funny, 4dave barry3 (a not-so-very-close-but-still-kind-of-personal but please-don't-tell-dave-'cuz-he-may-not-actually-remember friend of mommy's... which is, i might add, a good story for another day. and, i can tell it, too, 'cuz there's no actual restraining order involved).

as dave's fans already know, dave's got a new book out, so stopping by dave's blog will surely be a nifty way to show his/her (your) support to dave (as you might imagine, mr. barry struggles so to get people to buy his books... that's why he travels all over the country to meet with actual readers, for whom he then reads actual passages of his book, so that the aforementioned actual readers will know that he, dave, is actually very clever and that it's actually okay to laugh). by the way, mommy actually bought a copy of dave's book for the birthday boy... it remains gift-wrapped, and is currently sitting on the kitchen counter.

"Don't you wish you had a job like mine? All you have to do is think up a certain number of words! Plus, you can repeat words! And they don't even have to be true!" ~ Dave Barry

it's all about tom...

no, not cruise. the tom i'm talkin' about is the first truly gorgeous (by my mommy's way of thinking) tom... tom selleck. this post, by the way, is actually for mommy's sister... the veryveryvery smart dr. terri, with whom mommy used to have a shared passion for all things tom selleck. now, before i go on, let me quickly say to any and all of you who aren't mommy's sister, and might be, therefore, curious, that mommy & her sister are pretty much over tom these days, what with his allegiance to the NRA and all. as a matter of fact, mommy is mad-crazy in love with daddy and ditto for the vvvs dr. terri, who is devoted to her honey, the vvvs & vvvcute dr. billy. nah, this tom thing dates back to a time they used to lust after him when he appeared in a recurring role on the young and the restless -- long before he became famous as the dreamy even more lust-worthy detective, magnum. (and wa-a-ay before he melted more hearts as richard on friends...) that said, you're all invited to check out the following excerpt from cnn.com:

LOS ANGELES, California (Hollywood Reporter) -- Rawson Marshall Thurber ("Dodgeball: A True Underdog Story") has signed on to write and direct the big-screen adaptation of "Magnum P.I.," the 1980s series that made Tom Selleck a star.

"Magnum P.I.," which ran on CBS from 1980 to 1988, followed the adventures of Thomas Magnum, a Navy intelligence officer-turned-private investigator hired by wealthy author and playboy Robin Masters to oversee security on the latter's massive Hawaii estate.

the article goes on to describe the car magnum drove on the show as well as the friends that helped him solve crimes and blahblahblahblabbity blah.... the article also points out that...

Thurber is not making a spoof but rather something akin to the tone of the show, which mixed humor and danger.

while it's good to know the movie won't spoof all things magnum, it's really beside the point. what is the point? the point is this: if they're making a movie about magnum, who's gonna play magnum? now, i have it on good authority that mommy can't imagine anyone but tom playing that role... and she's pretty sure her sister will agree. there was, after all, one main reason they watched magnum p.i. in the first place... we're talking about "happy eyes" here, kids... so, where the movie is concerned, i guess the producers will ultimately have to decide just whose eyes they want to make happy this time around. all i know, is that mommy and the vvvs dr. terri will be hard-pressed to envision anyone but tom in the title role and will, therefore, be keeping their fingers crossed, and their eyes primed and ready for more happiness.

i actually have more silly tom-related stories to tell--mommy and her sister had one "close encounter" that might make for good reading in the future, so... stay tuned! (get it? tuned? like the last time i said "tuned" when i was talking about something involving television? remember? ah... forget it. but, stay tuned...)

i don't need anything today...

except for the stupid-ass tree guys to make it back to our yard and get these stupid-ass trees cleared out so the stupid-ass fence guy can come out and fix the stupid-ass fence. puppies need to play in that yard, people! but it's reallyreally hard when gigantic trees are in the way of a rowdy game of "puppy tag". it's just not right... not right, i tell you! what do i care that folks in greenwich and/or stamford might still be without power or.. or phone service or... or... cable? or access to their own driveways... or roads... or... oh, um.. heh heh... never mind.

i do, however, need for the freakin' guy next door who plays the freakin' drums to land a freakin' job and stop bangin' on those freakin' drums day in and day out and well into the freakin' night. i mean, i respect his need to practice, i really do. but day in and day out and well into the freaking night? every day? and every night? holy crap. holy mother-of-drum-poundin'-on-my-nerves 'n keepin'-me-from my-mid-mornin'-nap crap. i need for this to stop. and that's all i need.

wait. i think i need something else. i think i need to know how much longer that boy (formerly known and the birthday boy) is gonna wait before he decides to finally open up his pitance of presents. seriously, isn't it weird that 2 whole days after the fact, he's yet to demonstrate even the slightest freaking curiosity? apparently, he does this every year... mommy said he waited over a week once... but, for cryin' out loud, inquiring puppy minds need to know if there's anything delicious in those boxes, and they need to know, now!

along with the ending of the freaking drumming and the opening of the freaking presents, another thing i need, is for mommy to clean up this god-awful mess in our dining room. and by "our dining room", i mean, my people's dining room, a place, i might add, they never use because they have no friends and, therefore, are never hosting dinner parties, but, so what? it's still a shitty mess. tho', cleaning up this shitty mess will mean putting away all the christmas decorations... which is something, apparently, mommy isn't ready to do or doesn't want to do, but ya know what? tough titty said the kitty... i mean, come on!

the last thing i need today, tho' it's hardly the least, is for my mommy to stop shoving her goddam camera in my goddam face. she does this every day. every single goddam day. as you can tell, it's not as though i'm doing anything unusual, like, say, whipping up a fluffy souffle, or painting a portrait of bobo, or, cleaning up the mess in the freaking dining room. no. i'm not doing anything i don't do on, oh, say... every other goddam day. i sit in my favorite chair, i look out the window, i try to take a nap (despite the freakin' drumming going on next-freakin'-door), then, i wake up and look out the window, again. trust me, i know i'm cute, but, drop-dead-cuteness doesn't automatically give mommy the right to stick her goddam camera in my adorable face every second of the day, does it? i mean, am i right or am i right? damn straight i'm right. so, i need for her to stop, and i'd prefer not to bite her toes in order to get her to do it (something about biting the hand/toes of the one who feeds you...)

as you can see, kids, my needs are simple. besides the fact that i'd like for the tree guys to get out here and clear out the downed trees in our yard so the fence can be repaired, all i really need, in order to be a happy little puppy-girl (for now), is 1) for the freakin' drummer-boy next door to get a freakin' job, 2) to find out once and for all what's in the birthday boy's birthday boxes, 3) get mommy to clean up all that shit in the dining room, and 4) convince mommy to keep her goddam camera out of my goddam face for more than five goddam minutes without resorting to a good toe biting. and that, as they say, is all. that's my entire list of "needs" for today, 24 january, 2006. trust me on this, i don't need one thing more. wait... did i just hear someone mention greenies?

"On the other hand, you have different fingers." ~ Steven Wright

in puppy news...

i didn't want anyone to worry, so i thought it important to note that, despite mommy's brush with baking/cake decorating hell yesterday, bobo, max and i were not forced to stay indoors all day and suffer. no... thanks to daddy, we actually got to have a fun, festive frolic in the front yard for a few minutes! this meant quite a little bit to dear little bobo, i might add, who finally seems to be on the mend from his ear infection. anyway, we frolicked. we had fun. and, it was festive. big whoop, i know. but, like so many other things in life, including, as you can tell from this cute picture of me, not washing the windows in the back door (yeesh), it nonetheless beats a sharp stick in the eye.

cheesy birthday follow-up...

okay, so yesterday i rambled on (a bit too much, some might say, but screw them because sometimes i just have to go with the consciousness-flow of my brain) about the boy's 25th birthday and mommy's self-imposed descent into the pits of hell whenever she has to decorate the requisite birthday cake. i'm already sick of this subject -- especially since i'm probably gonna have to write about it again in march -- but, it does seem fitting for me to, at the very least, tell ya how the stupid lame-ass cake turned out, doesn't it? well, did i mention stupid? lame-ass? then i'm guessing you've already got an idea of how all this went. but, in case your imaginations are incapable of conjuring up visions of something both stupid and lame-ass, i'll go ahead and tell you. i shall also illustrate with some stupid lame-ass pictures, just to make sure all this lame-ass stupidity is crystal clear. here goes:

boy #2 got so tired of hearing mommy yip about the cake, he decided it might be nice to help (what's up with that?). he also decided it might be nice to do something really special in order to commerate the occasion of a 25th birthday. and, since he's more of an actual artist than, say, mommy, he was more than willing to conceptualize a theme and then work his own artistic magic on the cake's canvas of frosting... maybe a picture of wrestlers... or, how 'bout the front of a quarter--you know? 25 cents? only make it 25 years?? get it? or, i know! a picture of matt looking like al pacino in scarface... with a big cigar in his mouth! that would be soooo cool!

of course, since mommy forgot to buy more decorating frosting tubes at the store, and had, therefore, only the colors blue and chocolate to work with (along with a couple of pastry pens, which won't do shit on a cake) she astutely realized that none of the aforementioned suggestions were possible. so mommy, sentimental fool that she can be, persuaded boy #2 that it might, instead, be "cute" to take the birthday boy back to a time he was but a tiny lad... are you mommy's precious little monkey? no, mommy, i not a monkey. i a punkin. i'd like to mention here that mommy actually got a little misty-eyed recanting this adorable exhange. i'd like to, but i won't, because i'm sure you'd find it boring. anyway, a theme, of sorts, was finally agreed upon. yep-- mommy and the boy decided to go with a monkey. a monkey. a monkey would adorn the birthday cake. the french vanilla/fudge brownie birthday cake with dark chocolate frosting filling and fluffy white frosting on the outside. the birthday cake that took mommy several hours to mix/bake/frost. they put a monkey on that cake. a monkey, holding a little beer can and smoking a blue candle/cigar. now, isn't that special?

are you wondering how (and if) this story ends? well, it ends a little somthing like this: cake; decorated. candles; lit. boy; called upstairs from the basement, where he'd been playing video games all evening. candles; blown out. cake; devoured. (tho', sadly, not by me. ya know... that whole chocolate/dangerous to puppies thing? still, trust me, it looked delicious. the actual cake part, i mean, not the monkey). and, when all was said and sang and done, a good time was had by all. the end.

now, kids, as you've, no doubt, imagined, there are manymanymany more important/interesting things going on in the world today ... okay, maybe not important, but certainly more fun/tv gossipy/interesting than this ridicuous story of a birthday cake gone monkey. like: is the cast of friends actually coming back to do a series of specials for the peacock network? are the nbc execs responsible for possibly bringing back friends the same rat-bastards that decided to cancel the west wing? (my people could tell you stories about this network. they could, but they won't) will mommy and daddy ever get over showtime's cancellation of dead like me, of one of the bestbestbest shows ever in the history of smart/fun/engaging programs? speaking of monkeys, who decides which shows are gonna stick around and which ones are gonna get the axe, anyway? there are answers to these questions, kids... answers i tell you! but not here. no, you'll have to check out gossip-mongering daddy for that kind of stuff...on 4bobo banjoey3. so you do that, and i'll go find something else to do. like find out who's freakin' toes at nbc i need to bite.

"Dealing with network executives is like being nibbled to death by ducks." ~ Eric Sevareid