My daughter has been into music. Quite a bit of music. And her style seems to be as ecclectic as her mothers.

Does she want to hear Taylor Swift? Nope. If that pops on the radio her little hands clamp right over here ears and she shrieks "That's HORRIBLE!"

But if I hit my little CD button in our truck and out blasts a little ditty by one of my all time favorites, Maylene And THe Sons Of Disaster, my daughter goes from bleeding from the ears to air guitar and head banging while she yells to some of the lyrics (the ones you can make out easily).

Though amusing, something tells me I don't want my daughter to show up at the library or our next playdate singing along to http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UQX57tL4Y-Y

So now I forced myself to experiment with some more kid friendly tunes. Radio Disney it is.

.....help me.

NOw her favorite song for today is from Phineas and Ferb (I admit, it is one cartoon I'm more than happy to watch with her.) And as she calls it "Finny an Berb!"

Enjoy:

VacciNOWAYtions

Ma is going to be four in March, and though homeschooling would be my dream, I need to cover my bases. Today's challenge. Enrolling my kids in school.. (DundunDUUUN!!!)

UNVACCINATED.

Oh yeah, I just went there. Sadly, because our dear state of New York is run by a bunch of brainless needle loving Nazis, getting your tainted, dirty, unvaccinated children into any school is nearly impossible. You only get two exemptions here: Medical and Religious, and they can still turn you away no matter what you say.

But how hard can it be, you ask? All they ask is that you write a letter claiming your "Sincere Religious Belief.".. and you don't even have to specify your religion? Hell, you don't NEED a real religion. Because of the Separation Of Church And State, you can claim a sincere belief in The Flying Spaghetti Monster and they are supposed to take it.

The only problem here, it's up to the schools opinion whether or not your belief is "sincere" enough in their eyes. So they might accept the letter, reject it, or have you meet their attorney for a "Sincerity Test."

Yes, a Sincerity Test. And I'm not talking filling in little multiple choice bubbles with a number 2 pencil. I am talking an INTERROGATION that can last HOURS, stuffed into a little office and being grilled in intimidated by a snake eyes lawyer.

Don't believe me? Check out what this poor couple went through. They recorded the lawyer sneering, intimidating and mocking them for over an hour before deciding that their beliefs were not "sincere" enough.

http://www.ageofautism.com/2009/01/witness-a-ny-religious-sincerity-test-for-vaccine-exemption.html

In the mothers own words: "The law provides an exemption that fits squarely with our beliefs. All we wanted to do was follow the law and we were treated worse than criminals. The school berated, harassed, intimidated, humiliated and outspent us. "

Scary stuff, huh? I can only hope that doesn't happen to me when the time comes, because it would not take much to make this Mama hawk lose her cool and throw Mr. Lawyer our the nearest window. The lawyer even goes far enough to ask her "Have you talked to God? Has God talked to you?" That's a loaded question, if you say no then you won't look sincere in his eyes... but say yes and they'll lock your ass up in a Happy Home.

I love the "So, if God allowed Man to create vaccinations, how can they be bad?" Well dumbshit, God also allowed man to create Nuclear Weapons, and the last time I check those aren't very good either.

The human race can really be a group of pompous asses. We think we can control bacteria, we think we can control animals, stop floods, Batshit Bill Gates even thinks he can control the WEATHER (Good luck with that, dude.) http://www.weather.com/blog/weather/8_19894.html

Giggle.

So what's next? We tried to vaccinate against the flu, but all it had to do was mutate into another form of the flu that's resistant to the first vaccine. Instead of thinking "Whoops, we screwed up that one. Maybe we shouldn't mess with it so it doesn't mutate again into something worse." BigPharma not only magically produces a NEW vaccine, but they want they're miracle vile to be mandatory to everyone in the US. Yeah that's right! Pretty soon you will be fully expected to have someone inject you with a concoction of who-knows-what.. a concotion that is so new we have no idea what the long-term side effects are.

Forget long term, we don't even know what the short term side effects are. It could be even worse than the Big Pharma Gardasil Whoopsie. "OH, oh man, I'm sorry, we didn't KNOW it could cause paralysis and death! Thanks for letting us know that happened to your daughter!"

Instead of using kids as guinea pigs... how about you guys use.. Oh I dunno. GUINEA PIGS!

Tsk, Tsk, Octomom

I was in the mood to watch a train wreck apparently, so I flipped on Fox and watched about 20 minutes of the Octomom Special they score.

OH. MY. GOD. At least they didn't try to show her in a good light, because that would of been impossible.

Here all the highlights, and pretty much all you need:

I saw twenty minutes of an air headed botoxed woman speaking like, like, Valley Girl, like, whoa. Complaining about how she hasn't been laid in ten years (Can't imagine why), and whining and sqealing poor than all of her children put together.

14 poor, miserable children, the older ones acting acting out like WHOA, and her giving the camera "Advice" on how bad discipline in general is. Eight neglected babies laying on a dirty carpet, screaming for someone to feed or otherwise love them in general, while their mother sat back, laughing at the cameras and ignoring them all.

The story Nadya told while driving, about locking her mother in the trunk of her car when she was seventeen, then driving like a maniac, LAUGHING while she described her mother screaming and the sound of her body rolling around the back of the car.

And I just looove the birth footage, when the poor nurse was trying to kick the evil camera woman out of the room because the camera woman was in the way. And the CAMERAWOMAN said "Go do something important.:" The nurse IS doing something important you asshat, she's delivering BABIES! And Honey, don't ask the nurses and doctors to get out of YOUR way because you're not getting the footage of babies in a life or death situation.

And the kicker at the end; Octomom sitting behind a row of screaming babies, picking them up one by one to show them off to the camera. "This one has a really sweet temperment." - She sounds more like a dog breeder trying to sell a puppy than a Mother of children.

Oh, Nadya, I bet you were REALLY happy with your portrayal to the public now. Rather than change anyones mind, you instead embarrassed yourself to millions more across the nation. That special of yours was more like you waving a flag and going "Hey! Child Protection! Take my kids please before I damage them even more!"

You even allowed your babies to come into chaos WHILE being born. Shame On You, Octomom.

To the Ciy People.

For the "City People", Citiots", and people whose homes are in New Jersey, Manhattan, Connecticut, ect, ect.. Who either rent or bought a "second home" out here in what you call "The Hamptons.":

You are not special.

Nothing in the world possibly makes you more important than the hobo on the street you would not give your 65 cents to as you made your way to the Jitney for a weekend in "The Hamptons."

You could own a "second home" here for 50 years... it still does not make you a local.

Yeah, we may seem "poor" in your eyes when you come out for your happy little weekend getaway.. clogging up our town. Sure, many of us might make money by ripping you all off (Apparently, 99 percent of you did NOT get rich with your brains.)

Well, we may be poor, but damnit, this place would not exist if it wasn't for us. Our great grandfathers shed blood making this town, and we will be damned if you take that for granted.

You wanna cross a street? Sure.. but use a damn crosswalk.

Going for a bike ride? Have at it.. but stay the hell out of our way. If we hit you it isn't going to be out fault.

Want to go to a restuarant for dinner? Go ahead, but be nice to your server, unless you want to spend between 50-500 dollars on food covered in spit.

We are not "Rednecks" or "White Trash". We are not here for you to take advantage of us, and to be mean and nasty to us. If you want servants, go hire one. Bonackers have too much pride. Over the past 370 years we have shed too much blood, sweat and tears to make this place exist for you people to shit on us every summer. We see you as nothing but annual parasites, sucking the life and soul out of all of us.

Next time you come out here, take a good look at your maid, and your driver, and the guy you bought your fish from, and your server at a restuarant. Ask yourself 'What is so different between them and us?"... the answer will be nothing.

Nothing is different between us. The only difference is you people were lucky to come into money. We work 10000000 times harder than you have ever worked, but you guys were just lucky enough to find a job that pays you a million dollars for being lazy. None of you know what work really is. None of you have cut off a finger, or broken a bone, or died doing what you do.

Once apon a time this was a beautiful, quiet, close knit fishing town. We all looked out for each other, cared for each other so much we'd take the shirt off of our back for a neighbor in need, and no one ever, ever worried about money. Too many things in Life were more important than shiny toys and what "So-and so" thinks of you. And then you infested our home like expensive cockroaches and destroyed it all. You gave us our version of Armageddon.

This Town was at it's best over 100 years ago. Now, thanks to you, it's a dump. You have made our town so bad, our kids have no idea what they can grow up into. We have no idea if our own, dear children can even have a future here at all.

So what now? Are you all proud of yourselves? You absolutely destroyed our world with your horrible personas, and cars, and attitudes, and big ugly mansions that you barely even use. You've driven the price to live up so badly a thousand people can barely survive even though we've been here hundreds of years and do not know anything else. And you've never actually done anything productive with your lives, but hey, you have money, so Life MUST be good, right?

Wrong.

At least we know what Life is about. Life is Friends, Family, and Love. Not Swift Cars, Mansions, and Toys. Half of me is so angry at you all, for the pain you have caused myself, and my husband, and children, and father and grandfathers, for the blood you have shed for your spoilage and convenience... but the other half just pities you. I pity the fact that none of you know what true, genuine Love is, or how to love the "little" things. You have no "real" friends.. just the ones you paid for.

By the time you know what Life is you'll be on your deathbed, and feeling regretful for wasting it all away.

And to be honest, after all of the horrible things you've done to us, I won't be sure if I will feel genuinely sorry for you or not.

My husband broke the biggest cardinal rule known to married men, specifically married men to Stay At Home Moms. Last night, my husband did the equivilant of me waltzing into his mechanics shop and telling him he doesn't know how to fix anything. My dear, foolish, thick headed husband was begging for a beating by uttering the cursed words most Working Husbands fear...

"You haven't done shit around the house lately."

I know, most of my readers who live the SAHM/WP lifestyle are right now cringing after reading those, but no fear. I am not a violent person.


I am, however, a spiteful one.



Now for a joke:

A man came home from work and found his three children outside, still in their pajamas, playing in the mud, with empty food boxes and wrappers strewn all around the front yard. The door of his wife's car was open, as was the front door to the house and there was no sign of the dog.

Proceeding into the entry, he found an even bigger mess. A lamp had been knocked over, and the throw rug was wadded against one wall. In the front room the TV was loudly blaring a Cartoon channel, and the family room was strewn with toys and various items of clothing. In the kitchen, dishes filled the sink, breakfast food was spilled on the counter, the fridge door was open wide, dog food was spilled on the floor, a broken glass lay under the table, and a small pile of sand was spread by the back door.

He quickly headed up the stairs, stepping over toys and more piles of clothes, looking for his wife. He was worried she might be ill, or that something serious had happened. He was met with a small trickle of water as it made its way out the bathroom door. As he peered inside he found wet towels, scummy soap and more toys strewn over the floor. Miles of toilet paper lay in a heap and toothpaste had been smeared over the mirror and walls.

As he rushed to the bedroom, he found his wife still curled up in the bed in her pajamas, reading a novel. She looked up at him, smiled, and asked how his day went. He looked at her bewildered and asked, "What happened here today?"

She again smiled and answered, "You know every day when you come home from work and you ask me what in the world I do all day?"

"Yes," was his incredulous reply.

She answered, "Well, today I didn't do it."


My only problem is that I do not have any novels here that I haven't already read 4325689437 times, but I do have a handy dandy computer and a really comfy chair to sit in for the next 8 hours. Maybe after I feed the kids and toss the dishes haphazardly into the sink for my dear Lurch to come home to, I'll throw on my bathing suit and relax in Ma's wading pool on the deck.



Mommy's taking a day off.. and Daddy's going to have to work overtime.

My husband is on a babysitting suspension.

My brother went out on Tuesday, and I trusted me dear Lurch with Moo, Ma, and all of our furchildren.
The next morning after a healthy breakfast of 4 cups of coffee with 3 extra-strength Tylonol, I was brushing Rubys hair and to my terror, giant clumps and locks of curls fell out, and I freaked. In a complete panic, and wondering if she got a hold of some radiation, I called my sister, jumped on Google, was ready to make a visit to the State hopsital when Lurch came home.

All of a sudden, a little voice inside said "Liz, you DID leave him alone with the kids last night.." so I asked "Hooooooney? Did Ma play with scissors last night?"

*Pause*...."Why?"

"DID SHE?"

"Umn. Well, she started to but I stopped her." he replied sheepishly and turned away.

Well Dear, you didn't stop her fast enough. I'd hate to see what could happen if he was the SAHP. Would be children be running around bald and dirty day in and day out until the Men In White commit my husband and I? Since i'm too scared to fix it myself, I'll have to make an appointment for a 25 dollar cut.

Bah.

Oh My Gobble!

Travelling down Cranberry Hole Road a car of Jersiots stopped short right in front of us, causing my husband (with awesome reflexes) to lock our truck up and turn to the side to avoid hitting them. The windows on the passenger side rolled down and heads and arms crane out with a camera, pointing with the most shocked expressions of absolute, pure joy.

It was our Sunday drive and I was not about to let this ruin my day, so we sat back and waited patiently as they snapped photos into the woods and exclaimed ”THAT’S AMAZING!” for a couple more minutes, and we wondered if they even realized there was a obnoxiously loud turbo diesel truck idling five feet behind them.

Slowly, and reluctantly, the heads sink back into the car and they move on, making us wonder. What in the world were they looking at? Did they find the Montauk Monster? The Camp Hero Beast? Bill McGintees brain running loose through the forest instead of his head where it’s been missing from for years?

Their glee and wonder at this apparently exotic animal they stumbled over on their Bonac Safari peaked our own curiosity, so my own head stretched out the window when we finally had the chance to drive by ourselves.

“What is it? What is it?” my husband asks and my reply was more of an “Are You Serious?” type of shock than a truly awed one.

No Montauk Monster, no beast, no brain.

It was a turkey.

A friggin’ turkey.

Do they not have Turkeys in Jersey? If they really wanted to see one I would of been happy to give them the 19 pounder in my freezer. I personally think they’re a lot cuter without that tiny head and all those feathers, preferably Golden Brown with cornbread stuffing on my Thanksgiving Table.

A. TURKEY.

I loudly Gobbled at it, and hoped my poor attempt at Turkey Language translated to “Get in the woods you damn bird.. you’re amusing the tourists too easily!” At least the gobbling made my hubby giggle, since before that second he looked more ready to make a Golden-Plated-Jersey-Volvo sacrifice to the Poultry Gods.

I hope those folks don’t cause any accidents by stumbling over a rare and elusive Squirrel or even gasp, Bunny. “AMAZING!”? No, not car accident-worthy amazing.