Friday Flip Offs! It's time

That's Right, Kids.

Friday Flip Offs are back.

I think my last one was in April, the day that my husband was laid off. Because of the fucking French. Anyway - lots has been going on and I think it's time to share the angst! Let out all of your frustration and Flip Shit Off on Friday so that you can enjoy your weekend.

Let's Do It!

(I even have a button!)
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First, I'd like to give a huge middle finger salute to my sister. Who once again has proven what a cuntbagtwatwaffle she truly is. I recently spent 10 days with her daughter, and though I wasn't fishing for dirt, at all, I learned that her mother (CBTWSister) is trying to manipulate this kid for money. Out of the utmost respect for my niece, who is one of the most genuine, smart, kind, gorgeous people I know, I won't go further. Other than to say that karma's a bitch, CBTWSister. You'll get yours one day. It's sad, truly sad, but you will.

Second Flip Off? Adult Acne. I admit I'm an old bitch. I'm 36 . And it's not raging cystic acne, no, but still. I get those underground pimples. Typically right in the corner of my nose or near my hair line [fucking summer heat].

Exhibit A:



Yah. Right there. The size of Russia. Can you see it from your house? [don't mind my hair, I had just gone for a walk and was all schweaty].

While we're at it? I'd also like to say Fuck You to aging skin. Dayum, I finally got serious about sunscreen last year - but can't get rid of those sun spots on my cheeks. Fuckers.

Exhibit B:



To my fucked up pinky toes. I double finger flip you off. I am walking and walking to prep for the Susan G. Komen 3 Day Walk. [DONATE HERE!!! you knew I'd get that in there, right?] My legs are ready. Even my chub rub, thanks to Body Glide, which I intend to own stock in, the shit's so awesome. Anyway, my pinky toes, they just curl right under their neighbor toes and get crushed. So I use moleskin, blister bandaids and even dry fit toe socks. Yes, click that, it's a picture of said socks and it's fun. I will NOT let sore feet stop me from walking 60 miles in 3 days. I won't. If they need to be cut off, so be it, I'll finish this walk because, together with my teammate Poppy, we've raised over $6,500. InFuckingCredible, right??? We are. And my toes better not fucking let me down.

Finally, Flip off to money worries.

Truly. This one is focused on my momma, though - she recently moved from MT to WI - which was good for her - but hasn't found a job yet and social security isn't covering her monthly expenses. Can I be honest, Kids? She is the very reason I said yes to help promote Juice In the City. Not only are they a kick ass company of moms helping moms, but any money I'm making on sponsored posts? All for my Momma. It's the least I can do. So while I'm saying Fuck Off to money worries, I'm saying THANK YOU for putting up with me pimpin' deals for Juice.


this linky code should work - let's pray, eh?

I totally thought today was Monday

Wait. What?

I have access to blogger.

AT work.

And it's working? We'll see if this post goes through.

So happy belated Memorial Day! Do you say that? For Memorial Day? Is it really happy? Probably not, but I do truly thank all of the veterans out there for their service.

We were non-stop this weekend, and it was gorgeous out. 'Bout time, we needed some fucking sun.

Saturday I did my longest walk ever. EVER. And my feet paid the price. I used moleskin on the places I usually blister. Well now I know I blister between my toes. Yep. My toes are shredded. Thank God for our pool because I soaked my sore body as soon as I got home.

We had other crap going on every day, but ended with family time in the pool. The boys are like fish and I love it. We all have nice little tan lines and are ready for whatever amount of summer New England allows (read: short & fucking hot).

Anyone know anything about Allentown, PA? Me either. But Mr. Kiss is there right now interviewing for a job. It's the perfect position, duties and responsibilities. But it's in Allentown, PA.

Jaysus.

So I have 8-ish weeks to go til the 3 Day walk. I'm pretty sure it's going to kill me. Hopefully Poppy will give a nice eulogy at my funeral.

And finally, tomorrow? June 1? My Big Kiss turns 6. SIX. I'm still amazed someone let me be a mother, much less for 6 years now. That little schmoopy kid is the sweetest and I never want him to turn into an angsty teenager. Please say he won't? Or lie to me?

I'ma hit publish, let's see if it works. And if so, can anyone comment? Stupid blogger.

Friday Flip Off AND Kick a Donkey

As of 9.17am on Thursday, April 7th, Mr. Kiss was officially unemployed. He's a statistic. We'll be collecting the government checks. Maybe even food stamps. Or blocks of cheese. I blame the French. Fucking French.


Which, HELLO? Totally calls for a for a Friday Flip Off.

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Flip off French companies who decide to take over US Companies and lay off 80 people.

Flip off situations that make my kids ask why Daddy won't have to get ready for work in the morning.

Flip off Texas, too. Texas had a chance to remedy this situation. Texas is a cockbag. (thanks Moooooog for that word).

Yah. All of that.

P.S.

I had a lil "list" of a guest post yesterday. Things that make me want to donkey kick you. At Poppy's place. Check it. And don't be a douche, if you do anything deserving of a donkey kick, you KNOW I will find your ass and kick it. Hard.

P.P.S (or is it pss?)

I totally conned Poppy into spooning me in a tent and walking the 3 Day with me. If you've got 5 bucks to spare, please support her. She needs to raise the minimum of $2,300 by July - we can do it, right?

Here's her page.

She may even update it soon with a personal message. Maybe some donations will kick her in gear, for fuck's sake.

I'm begging. I never beg. But I'm begging today. Don't make me make a fucking habit of it.

Monday Funday

There is so much shit going on, I don't even know where to begin.

The best part is, I'm not sad or sick or mad or whatever, just busy. Living life, working, being a mom, wife and friend...you know, that shit you do when you just do it?

Yah.

That!

Not to mention, I'm exhausted today. For a super reason, but damn, I feel like dying. I took a costanza nap today - from 12.30 to 1.15 - locked the door, lights off, under my desk. That would have been This Kid. 

WHY was I up so late? Watching the Packers win the Super Bowl, silly.  All by myself. Well, I let the boys watch the first quarter with me, but then drugged them and watched the rest all alone. Pure Bliss. I may have cried at the end. Whatever, I felt my sconnie pride. Plus? Mr. Kiss called me and all the Grown Men were crying, too.  It seems everyone becomes an emo pussy when their team wins the big game.  I'm OK with it.

p.s. I'm not moving to Texas. Fuck the French.

p.p.s. My girl A was asked by a store clerk where she gets her hair cut and how long did it take to grow it out? It's a fucking wig, she replied, but thanks!

p.p.p.s. I'm watching Despicable Me and sorta want the soundtrack.

Um...

...skuze me while I scream a minute:

TODAY IS THE LAST FARKING DAY OF JANUARY!

That is all.

These Dreams*

The thing about me is that I remember dreams. I don't think that is a good thing. I've read that if you remember dreams, you're not really getting restful sleep. Duh. I haven't had restful sleep in years. Anyway - some of them stuck out, and so I share. It's what I do.

I had a dream that I attended a blogger conference. I’m all “squee” and hugging people. The suite we’re assigned to is HUGE. Like Pimp Daddy Real World Style Huge. Pool tables, kitchens, WINE. One girl (who was not human but was her ‘cartoony blog person’ in my dream) met family the day before so I got to meet a stranger’s kids. At one point I left my laptop in the airport, but never fear! I was able to tweet to the girl coming on the next flight and she picked it right up for me. Then all the girls left me to do super cool things. And then? A co-worker of mine showed up. We jumped on huge beds and watched a movie on the big screen and had wine in our jammies. Her job? She’s the Head of Compliance. i.e.IT Security. i.e. NO blogs at work. Coinkidink? I’m thinking no.

I had a dream that I was offered and accepted this high falootin job. Where I was meant to wear suits every day and report to the CEO who was a woman. I remember in my dream I was wondering why on EARTH would they offer me this job, I can’t do any of this shit. My office was ungodly large, with a t.v. and a fridge and a conference table and a fancy-how-the-hell-do-i-work-it-phone. My first day, I was running late at home. The people around me included my own kids, my mother and my husband’s sister. The latter two live no where even remotely close to me. As I’m pacing and needing to leave, my sister in law says “I have to poop.” Not one of the kids. The 40 year old. And I was late to the first day of my new job.

I had a dream that I got lost in a house that's too big for it's own good. I was turning into hidden rooms and climbing one staircase but descending another. Ending up in an attic, and then being on top of a washing machine. Now that I think about it, this may actually be a nightmare.

I had a dream about clit suckers. I have no idea. Although, come to think of it, this may or may not stem from my own versions of “texts from last night” the day prior.


*hope that Heart song isn't on replay in your head because of the title. Really. Oh it is now? Whoopsie.

Sometimes it's fun being married to me

I got this e-mail from Mr. Kiss the other day:

Thanks for being a working mom. It takes a lot to do that nowadays and glad you have a grasp on that and expenses. I see some of the guys really struggling here with this decision to move* because they are single income with wives who don’t ‘get it’.

Love you.

*the move is a potential job in Texas, as their company has been bought by the Fucking French.

Well his e-mail kinda made my year.

I shop. I shop a LOT. Mostly at Target. But I can get every-fucking-thing-under-the-SUN at Target. Prescriptions, food, make up, shampoo, toys, clothes, miralax (don't ask).

And sometimes? He gives me shit about the Target bill. Like "That was $1,300 in the past 3 months!" Well, Honeypie, imagine if I were some snoot and HAD to shop at Needless Markup? Or even Macy's? And HAD to buy shoes Jimmy Choo?

Because seriously, that would most likely quad-triple-multiply the monthly expenditures.

After I let it sink in, I had to realize that even though the man gets under my nerves sometimes, he's pretty good to have around. Just acknowledging the struggles of a working mom gets him some points, not to mention the "love you." He rarely signs e-mails that way.

So I had to reply to him, right?

Here you go:

Who are you and what did you do with my husband?

Kidding, Thank You. Love you, too.

p.s. this means my dress shopping at Target was ok, right? Spent $39 for your party, but it could have been $129.99 at Ann Taylor :)

p.p.s. I need $40 for my hair appointment tomorrow, for your Party.

p.p.p.s. And don't forget I'm getting my nails done. For Your Party!

Don'tcha wish you were married to me?

footy-note. I'm off to NYC for a while.

Friday F The Eff Off 8-13

My oh my, that do you ever post...that was a 'straight from the gut' post, huh? Just typing as I listened to my boys trying to get themselves to bed that night. I decided to write instead of go up and rip the shit out of them.

Anyway - makes ya think, doesn't it? Thanks a mill' for chiming in with your comments.

Except moooooog. He's an asshole.

Moving on, this week, I only have one Eff You to hand out - here goes...

I could go into lots of fun details on this, but in summary, my husband is losing his job.
Yep.
The company he works for is based in London and they were acquired by a company based in France. They have no need for the US office anymore and so, he'll be out of work. Could be a couple of months, could be a few more, the end is near.

Luckily - and I say this with much gratitude, I have a job. He works with many who aren't in the same situation. Thing is? That pressure to be the sole income earner? Not a fan. Grateful. But not a a fan.

So this week? I am yelling a big fat Fuck The French!


p.s. it's fucking Friday the 13th. Fucking Figures.

p.p.s. if i get this right? it'll show the rest of the friday flippers at kludgymom. Feels good, eh?