I’m having a hard time being patient today.
Since the first of February, the WCLC has been selling tickets called Millionaire for Life.
(Read the picture, it’s self explanatory.)
Anyway, like the good suckers we are, we spent a total of sixty-one dollars for eighteen “chances” to win. We usually spend three dollars a week on lotto. But we always say, You can’t win if you don’t play. Anyhoo, the numbers aren’t up yet. I know because I have been checking non stop since nine. The last time I hit reload I got a 403 Error message. Sigh. Now I can’t get the server to load. Double Sigh.
So, Sans Pantaloons sent me this link. Go, Giggle, and If you don’t understand, read the comments in the last post.
That will be all. Go about your daily tasks; and eat donuts and cake for me.
(Uhm If I think of anything else to say, or if I win/lose, I will update)
Nevermind, we didn’t win. Hmm. Imagine that. LMAO. Dems De Breaks Kid plus, I so blame you all. Did ANY of you have your fingers crossed? Pfft. I didn’t think so!
I’ve seen this on a few blogs. It seems like an easy post. I hope I can come up with ten things!
Tattoo’s. I already have two. Well one. No, two.One. Two? I got the Chinese characters for Mother, and then I got my dragonflies above it, making it one big tattoo. See it here. Because of a blog post I have decided on my next tattoo. But it is a secret.
I really want to get dentures. Sounds weird, but it’s true. My teeth are shot. They suck. The problem is not the money for them, but the fact I am terrified of dentists.
This Diet is kind of annoying. I feel hungry all the time. I am avoiding the scale. I am scared that if I see no movement I will cave and quit the torture.
I think it’s weird. I haven’t even been in the blogasphere a year, and yet some of the blogs I used to love are now So So. One of them has changed directions completely in the last two weeks. Do I stick it out and hope they get back to normal, or leave them for dead?
(how many is that ? Four? Shit this is harder then I Thought) (Thank god I am not doing the 100 things thingy!!)
Sunday Six is fun and enjoyable for me. But when I have a busy weekend, like the last, it really picks my buns when I can’t find time to ask the stupid questions. So far RM, BB and Stupe have been asked, But Stuperman was in video form and you can’t here him over the game boy he is playing. The questions this week, about the Oscars, really amused me, so I will not give up.
I keep stopping and playing in goo between each thingy. Blue goo. Ooey gooey. Blue goo, Gooey blue. bluey goo Goo Goo.
DDR is going well. JJ doesn’t like doing workout mode So I am not seeing the numbers change, so I don’t post them up here. But I worked up a good sweat tonight. Unfortunately I wasn’t wearing deodorant.
Seven?
Hmmm….
uhm…
I need to get.. uhm I typed that and then went to play in the ooey blue goo and forgot what I was going to say.
I am so stumped. You guys can do the last two randoms in the comments for me, OK?
wait!!!1!!
I hate when people say “You Guys” and I always respond in a hurt tone, “But, I’m a girl!” Sometimes I offer to show my boobs to prove it.
There, now all you have to do is leave one random thing about me in the comments. Preferably made up things to amuse me. And I will need someone too peel my grapes whilst I recline on this chaise and read what you all have to say. Any volunteers?
I was looking forward to doing Sunday Six with the boys this week, Kelly has awesome Questions up all bout the Oscars. But something more important has come up.
Spousal Abuse.
Sure I feel a certain amount of shame in admitting that this … problem exists, and particularly that it exists in my own home. But maybe by talking about it, we can solve this … issue.
I don’t feel comfortable reporting it to my family doctor, what if they decide to dig deeper to see if the children are fine, how embarrassing would that be!! They are fine, so don’t worry! And even though Health Care is covered here in Canada, Mental Health Care is not, and I could never afford the fees a counselor would charge. So I’m going to lay on this couch and tell you my woes and you all can be my Shrink, OK?
But don’t send me a bill, I won’t pay it.
Lets see. Lets start with the fact that just last night there was a punch to the face, a knee to the small of the back and an elbow rammed between the shoulder blades of that same, very sore, back. Thankfully nothing was broken and there are no bruises to cover up, although, being winter time, no one looks twice when you wear bulky long sleeved sweaters and turtlenecks.
So How do we get past this problem? Even when all of this is happening, I still love him. He is a good provider, he is great with the kids, and hey, lets face it, he is amazing in bed.
I just don’t like the hitting. And frankly I don’t think he likes it anymore then I do, It just seems to happen.
A lot.
This morning during the customary apology that follows nights like the last, I couldn’t help but think in the back of my mind, that he deserved it.
Maybe this will teach him to take my side of the bed instead of trying to reclaim his side after I have fallen asleep on it.
And how was my trip? So glad you asked!
Let see, there was the time I was in the bathroom with the door locked. I hate trying to wipe my ass and someone walks in. So I turn the nob to open the door. but it falls off in my freaking hand. I had to bang on the door until my husband and MM rescued me.
And the baby. Who still won’t let me take a dump all by myself. (Cus I’m a big kid now) At this point I have resigned myself to accept that he probably never will.
***
My dad once gave my sister a kidney. He never does nice stuff like that for me. I’ve been here for almost 28 years and not one solitary organ. Not even his appendix. It’s not like he is using it. Hrumph, it’s pretty clear who his favorite is.
Moving right along…
So anyway obviously to get the kidney that my dad gave to his favorite child, they cut him open, and obviously this resulted in a scar. And, again, Obviously we chose to tell the children that the scar was from a shark bite, and not from organ donation.
So on this trip, the children finally remembered to ask grandpa if they could see the shark bite scar. Grandpa showed them, but then explained it was not a shark, but that a doctor had done that.
“A doctor didn’t do that grandpa! No peoples mouth is That big.” Said Blue Boy, shaking his head and walking away.
Silly Grandpa, Blue Boy is way too smart to fall for Your lies!
***
My friend Monkee is having a contest that I DO NOT want you to enter. I want to win so stay the fuck away! Have I mentioned I want to win? Oh whatever, I’ll win no matter what you submit.
***
And you should all know that as I type this I am eating chocolate cake, with rich, creamy, delicious, yummy chocolate frosting because on Monday I am going on a new diet.
