(if your hand is up, you are a fucker and can leave NOW)

Just now I kept backspacing between up, and you trying to get rid of the ; I had mistakenly typed instead of the , . I tried a few times to get the comma right instead of the whatever it is called (;) but the stupid ; kept showing up. Then I realized my monitor was dirty and wiped off the spot.

It’s been that kind of day folks.

∗ Posted by bluepaintred on 05.13.2008
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Last night I tried very hard to go asleep because I knew that in the morning not only would I have to wake up, I had to STAY awake. See, on any normal day, My eight year old makes breakfast for the two younger boys and makes the school lunches. their clothes are picked out for them the night before, so they can get dressed on their own as well. I wake up with enough time to double check lunches, make sure they have not put each others clothing on by mistake - which has happened more than once. (a lot more)

I also do not believe they should walk out the door without an I Love You and a kiss. But. After that? Stuperman picks out a movie, I pop it in the bedroom TV and he watches while I sleep. I PPH sleep. I’d have it’s babies, so long as I could sleep through procreation.

Anyway. Last night I tried to sleep, which, if you want to be technical, actually falling asleep was NOT the problem. The problem was staying asleep. All night long I was plagued with nightmares. I woke up too many times to count with my heart pounding, sweaty, and one time, I was crying. Each time, I was sure the dream was over,  So I would lay back down to sleep, but the nightmare would begin exactly where it had left off when I woke up the last time!

This afternoon in the car on the way home from picking up Blue Boy’s new mattress, I complained to hubs that I had not slept well, and explained about my nightmare. At that point all that I could recall, other than it was very scary, was that there were millions of snakes. But, almost every single one was the length and thickness of a piece of spaghetti. And the spaghetti snakes were clear. It doesn’t sound scary now, but it was. I swear.

It should not have surprised me though, that when I asked Hubs a few minutes later what he wanted for Supper, He said Spaghetti. Fucker. Then again, the fact that I punched him, shouldn’t have come as such a  surprise to him either!

∗ Posted by bluepaintred on 05.12.2008
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So. How was your Weekend? Mine was expensive. In under six hours I spent almost a thousand dollars, and that *kinda* hurts. And then? Someone, I think cat, hubs thinks dog, peed on my couch. Granted it was a very old ugly couch, but dammit! It was MY couch! I Sit there!

So now the couch, which REEKS, is sitting in the garage, (it’s too old to try and save) and my living room looks barren. I flat out refuse to buy new couches until the kids are older, so I have been half heartedly looking through the online classifieds. AND! And! My house? It smells like pee. I washed the floors and the walls, and sprayed the other couch and the mat it sits on and the drapes with fabreeze, but it still smells. Not as bad now as this afternoon, but still. Gross.

Any suggestions?

Sigh.

*EDIT* Vindication! I sent Smokey to her bed for a treat. When I bent to give it to her, I smelled The Smell, really strong so I moved Smokey and sniffed the dog bed. Bingo. More pee. And there is NO way Smokey would pee in her own bed. That cat better get a freaking clue, and SOON. The dog bed? In the trash, thank you very much.

∗ Posted by bluepaintred on 05.11.2008
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∗ Posted by bluepaintred on 05.10.2008
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A while back, before we even had Smokey, I watched an infomercial on a product called the FURminator. Originally we searched for it in hopes that we would be able to use it on Tigger, AKA Fat Bastard, but were unable to locate it, and settled for a knock off version that did not work worth a damn.

How much is a damn worth anyway?

Then Dooce wrote a post singing praises to the FURminator and I did a quick Google search on the product and ended up at the homepage, where I watched the little video they have of fur just flying off in clumps at this dogs feet. TV magic, I figured, but with the amount of fur Smokey is shedding, i felt we had to do SOMETHING.

We stopped at our local petstore this evening to see if they had them. Hope springs eternal and all that rot. I just about had a freaking heart attack when I saw the price of the thing. Holy fucking shit, I’ve never spent 49 bucks on a pair of jeans! Was I seriously going to spend that on a DOG BRUSH?

WTF? I did.

Turns out, it was worth the money, in the time it took a fifty+ pound dog to eat a handful of cheerios, this is what the FURminator collected :

Thats a full size, fits my fat ass stool, people.

Holy shit. A product that actually works like the advertisement says it will! If you have a pet that sheds, you need this thing.

*this is not a sponsored post, in fact, I paid them over fifty bucks to write it.*

∗ Posted by bluepaintred on 05.09.2008
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People say I am too over protective. FAIL. I did not stop him from doing this. I peed my pants watching, But I did NOT stop him.

(Sorry twitter followers, I know you have seen this video already!)

(pee ess: Click the image, it will take you to a youtube video)

∗ Posted by bluepaintred on 05.08.2008
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Me and the internet are fighting.

This morning I was all “Hi interwebs! How are you today? I love you. look! Coffee!  Lets all go surfing together and then maybe after that, we can have a picnic!”

And the interwebs said:

Then I said, Right Click Close, dear interwebs, stop being so silly! We need to check our email! And after that! FaceBook Scratch and Win! Wont that be fun?

And the interwebs said:

To which I replied, Dammit interwebs! Right Click CLOSE !! Now quit fucking around. I have my coffee, now I need my surfage! Lets go! We need to get this all done so we can go paint the dog house this afternoon! Won’t that be fun? You can come sit out on  the little Bistro  table with me and help supervise the boys! Now, lets go check bloglines!

And the interwebs said

And I said. RIGHT FUCKING CLICK CLOSE. Fuck you bitch. I’m going for a smoke and when I get back you had BETTER work!

And then the interwebs said

And now we aren’t really talking to each other. We tiptoe around each other, careful that we speak to each other no more than necessary (not on my part, I am ready to forgive and forget…) I think we need a counselor or mediator…

∗ Posted by bluepaintred on 05.07.2008
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