Category Archives: 1

Wanted: P.O.S.

I know it’s probably hard to imagine that I could be wanting for anything more in my life since I’ve spent so much time residing here in awesomeville but lately I’ve had my eye out for my much fantasized about beach getaway home.

That’s right folks I’m in the market for a beach crack house crap shack.

Note that I don’t actually have any money to buy this little slice of heaven with, I’m just getting started.

It only has to have one room and running water and I’m golden.

I love the smell of the ocean, the windswept dunes and the kids that look like they were imported from the front of the J. Crew summer catalog before it started selling all cashmere instead of cotton.

The hypertension and frown lines begin to abate and the idea of playing the bongos shirtless outside seems a little less ridiculous.

So you aren’t interested in funding my windswept and ocean battered dreams?

I have another option for you!

Recently I was combing the pages for a farmhouse getaway and I came across this house which is the EXACT replica of the home I grew up in Stony Point, New York. What’s even more bizarre? This house is in Stony Point as well!

my old house was even painted the SAME colors! Meant to be people.

My house came with extensive acreage and a few outbuildings but this one will do.

Feel free to purchase it at your leisure and then we can have you sign the Deed of Trust over to me in a timely manner.

Can’t you see the warm country house memories that I’ll be making here?

Baking bread and lighting fires while wild berries and apples grow outside. This is going to be spectacular!!!


No, no one has bought me my house yet, but the people over at Culture Brats have the new 80’s fashion disaster post up and I love them with all my heart so go pay those guys a visit and give them a big kiss xoxox



Filed under 1, beach house, crap shack, do this for me, don't destroy my dreams, I love the beach, I'll take a country house instead, sand, seagulls, surf, things I can't have

Starts With B, Rhymes With Witch

Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee.

What do you get when one and three go to war? Lot’s of flying fists, hurt feelings and exhausted referees.

Into every new year a little profanity must fall and who better to give it to you than Il Duce? The shock value of naughty words spilling forth from tiny lips never lessens, but  even I drew a sharp breath upon hearing his newly acquired profane utterance. 

If you want an extreme reaction, make sure to call me a bitch. 

If you want to make me cry watch my five-year old learn and use that word. 

Number one and number three are forces of nature that suck the air out of every room they enter creating a vacuum that few escape. Sandwiched between these two is my gentle sweet heart who has learned to weather the storm and keep his head down. 

Powerful personalities battle it out over Tokyo

Today I listened to all three call each other that word and waited for the piss poor parenting paddy wagon to pull up and cart me off. 

Good work mom. 

One too many viewings of the housewives of whatever county happen to be on and the word became legend over here where potty mouth is far too prevalent and three bars of lye soap are in demand now. 

Little assholes.


Filed under 1, am I doing anything right?, assholes, Bad cable shows, bad catholics, bad parenting, behavior problems in kids, buffoonery, crazy ramblings, discipline, kids and parenting, kids that like cursewords, parenting, parenting badly, please let him grow up to be normal

How to be a Proper Groupie

It's all part of my rock and roll fantasy

Aren’t we all looking for a spectacular rock and roll way to die?

It’s better to burn out than to fade away people, and erupting in flames after Keith Richards accidentally lights his cigarette with a blow torch next to your  vodka soaked naked body is a lot more interesting than catching and subsequently dying from a case of whooping-cough.

The grandiosity of your exit makes a huge statement about how you lived your life.

Here are a few of my favorites compiled by my reformed sisters in arms & myself.

Death by Electrocution

One moment you are skinny dipping in the hotel pool with the roadies trying to get the golden key upstairs to party with the band then suddenly the inebriated guitarist tosses a plugged in radio into the water and watches curiously as everyone does that familiar dance before collapsing. Sadly, just moments before he was contemplating going up to the room and throwing a tv out the window. Choices.

Going out in a blaze of glory.

Perishing in a mind-blowing pyrotechnics display during the bands second encore at Shea Stadium while scaling the wrong rear wall to get backstage.


You’ve made it inside the iron gates . The palatial surroundings of your rock and roll fantasy guys  compound are so inviting you MUST tour the grounds.  Unfortunately you stumble into the area that houses his collection of rare and exotic animals. Next thing you know your eyes are gouged out by his birds of prey and what’s left of you is then eaten by his pet lion.


Minion on accelerated schedule comes to collect your soul ten years too early after contract with Satan is executed promising ten years of wedded bliss to the rock star of your choice. Damn, the ink isn’t even dry yet.

Ahhh Shit!

Frightened to death in dark hallway after surprise appearance by Marilyn Manson who is there to collaborate on a single in rock stars home studio.

Fly Away Home

Flowing mesh frock (a la Stevie Nicks) snags on wheel of private band jet during boarding. Band too drunk to notice frantic screaming prior to departure, so it’s death by asphyxiation at 30,000 feet or internal injuries gotten from being folded into wheel well during take off and landing. You take your pick.

I didn’t know you were married!

Throat ripped out by the teeth of insanely jealous wife after thrilling chase that includes impressive vaulting over various shrubbery and ducking cutlery thrown by pursuer.

Oh yeah!

Impaled on newly purchased medieval andirons during  extra vigorous sexual escapade.

My head.

Brain injury after taking  hit to the noggin  from flying  drumstick  meant for pompous lead singer.


Filed under 1, blaze of glory, great ways to die, rock and roll, rock stars

Not on the Zombie Bandwagon

These guys are running. Obviously not real zombies.

I can’t stand it when I miss all the fun. 

 And miss it I did as is evidenced by the zombie apocalypse led by the bloggess a few weeks ago on twitter and any number of wonderfully written entertaining blogs I follow chiming in with great zombie stories and facts. I mean christ , somebody even won this spectacular  zombie sock monkey   

Unlike all these guys and gals I’ve missed the boat regarding the love of zombies. 

That’s because I’m genuinely terrified of them. 

 You see, I was raised on a steady diet of Evil Dead and Night of the Living Dead, thanks George Romero and the other masters of horror . 

I grew to dread the slow lumbering pace (come on already kill me quick!) their large numbers and preference for human flesh. I always hated how it took them FOREVER to eat their victim who was still alive while he was being consumed. 


Truth be told, I’m actually scared of them because of the slight chance that they may exist. 

Well, that and they look an awful lot like any number of drunk guys lunging unsuccessfully with an open mouth toward my face. 

Many a long evening spent alone in an old reclusive farm-house had me thinking the scrape of the old oak on my window was the sound of zombie fingernails clawing at the glass pane trying to gain entry for a quick snack. Worse, what if the place was surrounded? After all it was the perfect place for an attack. 

Years later I would be the only one worried when our underaged drinking escapades had us hanging out in secluded graveyards to consume copious amount of alcohol and hide from the cops. As I slunk around on my belly trying to avoid the gleaming flashlight of law enforcement I would wonder to myself if I was the only one concerned about being grabbed by the protruding hand of an undead minion only to be dragged away and eaten. 

This week while spending far too much time on imdb I found out that George Romero has done it again. 

Reanimated corpses and new plot twists!


Filed under 1, George Romero, I'm never going to not be scared of zombies, these other people are cooler than me, zombies, zombies don't eat the cool people

Tranny Nanny

I babysit!

We here in the nation’s capital are a pretty open-minded bunch. 

 Probably because we get to see so many interesting things in a day.

Obama, big impressive monuments, culturally diverse neighborhoods, nincompoops waving signs with the date of the end times, etc.

But today I saw something that really made me smile.

I confess that as I sat at the traffic light waiting to cross Connecticut Ave. I beheld a most unusual sight. 

It was a cross dressing nanny, toddlers in tow.  One tyke in her push cart and the other slightly older sibling holding on tight to his caretakers hand.

Well let me rephrase that. It could have been a cross dresser, a transvestite or an enormous hairy woman with an obviously protruding adams apple.

I don’t know if it was the hairy legs, the stiletto heels or the sparkly blouse and over the top wig but she was a long lean baby sitting machine. 

The tranny nanny. 

She really was spectacular. 
“How” you may ask “do you know that those weren’t her/his kids?”

Well people, I thought about that until a woman, who appeared to be their mother, stepped off a metro bus at the corner and walked toward the toddlers with open arms.

I need to get this kind of stuff out of my head and directly to  the computer  or it just festers there and I spend the better part of my day thinking about the fabulously dressed manny. 

So anyway, I took this a sign of progress and wanted to interject a little sparkle &  pizzazz into your day so that you  can be on the lookout for elaborate and unusual case scenarios in your city or neighborhood.

You never know, you could turn around tomorrow and find yourself in a courtroom facing a yeti lawyer or laid up in the hospital explaining symptoms to carnies or other assorted circus folk.


Filed under 1, cross dressers, drag queens, having an it's pat moment, interesting things I saw today, men that look better in clothes than I do, nanny's, todays unusual find

Things are Not as They Appear.

This Sunday I had myself a true Judas Iscariot moment.

I denied knowing my own children at the grocery store.

Then I stopped after reading that last line and asked myself  “Hey girl who spent her whole life chained to a pew in parochial school! WHO was it now that denied Jesus three times?” “Why YES you moron that would be Peter.”

Judas sounds so much more theatrical though, so I’m keeping it even thought it is not historically accurate.

While waiting patiently in the checkout line my two boys began to act a little squirrely.

They were redirected to the front of the store near the exits brought there by my beleaguered mother who was lacking her usual sharp tongue and was hanging there like a limp dishrag due to a debilitating migraine.

 This means that the boys were running in circles, screaming about having a girlfriend, punching each other, jumping off the bench my mother was passing out on, smashing the video machine with the dollar rentals and accosting the automatic lotto dispenser.

Two über uptight couples with pursed thin lips were starting to shake their heads in disbelief and exchanging disgusted looks with each other at the volume and sheer audacity of the two unruly boys and their comatose caretaker.

“So rude and disrespectful” noted one.

“Why isn’t she doing anything to control them?” asked the other.

Then Il Duce let loose with a rank profanity followed by a roaring hysterical cackle and I watched them gasp with horror.

They were truly disgusted.

“CAN YOU BELIEVE THAT?!” they croaked, looking at me.

I thought for a moment. There were thousands of ways I could go here but I opted for betrayal.

“I know!” I commiserated, as I lugged the rest of my fresh produce onto the belt.

I didn’t feel nearly as bad as I know I should have but it was just so much easier to cut and run regarding knowing this lot than to try to explain them to someone who wouldn’t care.

After scooping my mother up off the bench and driving her back home so she could suffer her mind exploding agony alone on her couch I spoke briefly to the boys about minding their behavior in public. But my pleas fell on deaf ears as they were both fast asleep in the back.


Filed under 1, adversity, am I doing anything right?, bad manners, bad parenting, being shallow and crass, boys with serious attitude, buffoonery, can I have a normal day, cowards, crazy ramblings, disasters, discipline, giving up, I complain too much, I don't know how to end a blog post, i don't like mondays, i love kids, I REALLY DO, I'm not as effective in a bad situation as I thought I would be, kids, kids and parenting, kids that like cursewords, random observations

Barbie On Fire

All the years of careful disaster training, the drills, the metal fire ladder purchase, the detailed escape plan, the nose like a bloodhound.

These things were rendered USELESS in the blink of an eye.

This morning at 5:30 a.m. we were nearly done in by a badly dressed Barbie doll left too close to an ancient defective stove in the basement.

You almost killed me! Next time I'm buying BRATZ.

My husband dropped by our room after he had effectively saved our lives by destroying the blaze singlehandedly with a pan of dirty water.

He didn’t want me to panic if I smelled the aroma of burnt plastic.

I had slept through the WHOLE THING.

Apparently Barbie was also sitting too close to the printer paper. FLAME ON!

My mother would be ashamed. She has spent a lifetime sharpening my skills and instilling in me a lifelong fear of fire since her own house burnt to the ground as a child.

Everyone escaped that fiasco but the eternal flame of terror in her mind had been lit never to be extinguished.

She trained me up right using our 200-year-old farm-house to illustrate her point. Namely that this sucker could go up in flames in seconds flat and you had to know how to stop, drop, roll, commando crawl, apply wet towels to your face and head and have your escape route planned.

Fortuitously, hubby was downstairs in the basement sleeping on the futon after being unceremoniously jettisoned from his own bed by a group of unruly children.

So thankfully, all is well now and everyone has gone back to school and work. That leaves me and the ticking time bomb stove sitting here together eyeing each other up.

Wait until I tell my mother.

Barbies burnt off arm with offending death trap stove.

burnt up printer from new angle.


Filed under 1, barbies, fire, I think that Barbie is out to get us, I think we need to change the batteries in the fire alarm, I'm not as effective in a bad situation as I thought I would be, safety, why you shouldn't have defective appliances