Walmart and F-Bombs

Today, I was totally the white trash person of Walmart. Wiener had a conference call, so I had to get the screaming demons out of the house for a bit and decided a quick trip to the store for milk and eggs was in order. They do not sell vodka at our Walmart. Bastards. My outfit was perfection. No shower, dirty yoga pants, a neon orange Corona t-shirt, hat, no make-up. Devil Baby had un-brushed hair and was wearing a sparkly skin tight stripper dress. Fifi looked cute, except for the stringy beach hair.

We looked only one step up from the fluffy, frazzled mom of five we saw yesterday back to school shoe shopping with her brood who was walking through a strip mall pushing a newborn baby in a car seat plopped in a Target shopping cart smoking a cigarette. We weren't at Target. Classy.  

We made our rounds through the store uneventfully. Which is a pretty big feat considering Devil Baby usually asks for things the whole time and she and her sister fight and hit each other. Thank Baby Jesus in a tux for small mercies none of this happened during today's trip. As we were checking out, however, the natives began to get restless asking for candy and pinatas. No clue where pinata came from. Then they were messing with the child seat in the front of the cart, and also hitting each other, and I knew a finger pinch was in the foreseeable future.

By the time we got to the car and Fifi sighed heavily when I asked her to put the cart away for me, I had reached my limit. So, when I asked her to put up the middle seat on her side and sit there instead of the far back where I had to put the groceries, and she began arguing- I lost my shit. The clincher was when I responded to her protest with a loud "everything is not a motherfucking debate" just as I see the old man entering the car next to us. Oops. 

I was given dirty looks, but he knew what was good for him and kept his trap shut. Otherwise, I may have unleashed the hounds of PMS on him. Or not. I feel bad if I offended his delicate sensibilities, but I'm sure he has not known the insanity that is motherhood and the witching hour in the days before school starts. Kids become howler monkeys with ADD on meth. And if he is familiar with this, I'm sure he has either forgotten or has lost his cool at one time or another. So don't judge me, crotchety old man wearing a bucket hat. You need to get off my lawn.

And don't judge me, dear reader, for occasionally always using profanity around my evils. I'm just trying to prepare them for a life on the mean streets of suburbia and it isn't all rainbows and unicorns. Also, studies have shown it is good to swear in front of your kids. I want to marry her. 

Ma ma ma my Corona...

Sounds about right.

  

Racist Road Trip

This summer we took a road trip to visit family in various states. Actually, it was a planes, trains and automobiles type of road trip, minus the trains and add a shuttle bus around a resort complex.

There were a few interesting things that highlighted our trip proving racism is alive and well in the good 'ole U S of A. And by highlight I don't mean it was on a positive note, it just punctuated the fact that racism exists and everyone is stupid.

Our first encounter was driving through McAlester, Oklahoma en route to the Branson, Missouri area. There was a small motel with a sign out front that read "American Owned and Operated." What the actual fuck? How is this racist? I'll tell you. Why would we care if it was American owned and operated unless there are people that take issue with motels not being American owned and operated. And if they aren't American owned, who are they owned and operated by? So now we must wonder and worry who is owning these local motels and why should we be concerned they aren't American owned.

So what did it mean? An initial thought was that we were driving through an area with a lot of casinos and Native American nations. Surely this sign was not in reference to Native American owned businesses, because who is more motherfucking American than a god damned NATIVE AMERICAN?! Or was it in reference to any other ethnicity who owned businesses in the area? Why should it matter who owns the motel as long as it is clean, comfortable, and they have good customer service. Free wifi and vodka would be a plus, but I'll settle for clean and friendly any day over some chubby, cigarette smoking white man in a wife beater asking me if I need turn-down service. 

Next on our agenda was driving through the highways of Missouri headed to the St. Louis airport where we would catch a plane to visit family in Chicago. As we were enjoying our customary road trip beef jerky and nuts (that's what she said) I read a billboard that said "Man + Woman = Marriage." Yes, I know this isn't quite racist, but it is derogatory to a group of people nonetheless. It led me to wonder who footed the bill for this propaganda? Was it a church or a bored homophobe with deep pockets? If it was a church, couldn't this money have been better spent feeding a few homeless people, ya know, like how Jesus used to (allegedly) do? Because I'm sure everyone who read the sign immediately called their state representative to voice their disapproval for gay marriage rather than just continuing on to the lake or beer store or wherever they were heading. Also, I was quite amused at the amount of Queen played on the local radio stations during our drive through Missouri. It was almost as if there was a secret group of DJ Illuminati conspiring to brainwash the state and turn everyone gay and then legalize gay marriage, because we all know that's how one becomes gay.       

Chicago was enjoyably non-racist and we moved on to Michigan where we visited with some relatives (on Wiener's side) that we have not seen in a long time. One night after dinner, an older Uncle made a few inappropriate comments about Hispanics, particularly insensitive since we have several Hispanics in our family (and obviously not cool in general), which apparently opened the door for another family member to unleash his drunken racist redneck side. I defend my right to call him a redneck, since his neck is in fact red. I won't go into the nitty-gritty details of his comments, so as to not enrage you and cause you to punch the computer screen in anger, but let's just say I was disgusted and planned on giving him a good ass reaming in private- and not the kind some people enjoy.

So long story short, or not so much, one average family's summer vacation on the great American road was polluted by assholes who think they are better than everyone else and emit the sense of self entitlement they accuse other races, creeds, and cultures of doing. And that's calling the kettle black. #notracist

Chief Black Kettle
Black Kettle was a pragmatist who believed that US
 military power and the number of immigrants were overwhelming. 
He was a peacemaker who accepted treaties to protect his people. 
Now that's a real American. 

Devil Baby Serial Killer Strikes Again

A random smattering of potential Devil Baby serial killer foreshadowing:

~One evening Devil Baby asked if we could have brains for dinner. Then she said she was going to eat her baby brother's brains, and then she said her baby brother said she couldn't eat his brains. She doesn't have a baby brother.

~During a bubble-bath one night she was in the tub eating the bubbles off a spoon and said "Yum! Brains are fantastic!"

~While I was emptying the dishwasher, she grabbed some tongs and said I'm going to cut your brains out.

She is definitely in a zombie brain phase and I swear we haven't watched Walking Dead in months!

~When Devil Baby plays hide and seek she likes to say "Come out, come out wherever you are." It would be cute if it didn't have the same eerie inflection as Robert DeNiro's character in Cape Fear.

~During an afternoon walk we saw a small bunny underneath the bushes quietly nibbling some grass. I pointed it out to Devil Baby and we oohed and ahhhed over it. As we walked home later she said "Mama can we kill the baby bunny and eat it for dinner?" 

~While being babysat at a friend's house, she kept telling them there were "Killer Clowns" lurking about. This was especially awesome because the man of the house is terrified of clowns. Simultaneously creepy and awesome.

~Lately, when Devil Baby gets frustrated she growls "murder." I don't know where she gets it. I usually yell "I'm going to kill you" when I'm enraged, but never murder.                                                                     

~When she gets mad she says "I'm getting very angry" in a hulk voice.

Stay tuned for more Devil Baby antics. Unless I get murdered by it or my brains eaten. #scared  

A Modest Rant

In order for this post to make any sense, you have to watch this video.

As I first watched the video, I thought it was interesting and some good points were made. But once it was over, I got mad. 

While I don't want to see anyone, including my children, wearing a thong swimsuit with their anuses (ani?) hanging out, nor tiny triangles over their gazongas tempting the nip slip gods, I really have no problem with women wearing bikinis or semi-revealing swimsuits. Women's bodies are beautiful and, yes, they come in all shapes and sizes. Women should be free to wear a swimsuit that they are comfortable and confident in without people like this making us second guess our choices.

If you watched the video, you will have heard how she discusses the evolution of women's swimwear from swim costumes and the quick entry into the water via a horse drawn port-a-potty-like-atrocity, and then to the more form fitting one pieces, then a slightly more revealing tankini, then to the most scandalous bikini. So scandalous, French models wouldn't model them- only strippers. Have you met any modern day French women? They are very confident in their sexuality and with nudity- they're just more classy about it than Honey Boo Boo's mother. 

She talks about modesty and the woman in the song "Itsy Bitsy Teenie Weenie Yellow Polka Dot Bikini" being afraid to show herself in public because her sense of modesty was gnawing at her not to reveal herself like a common whore. Which is entirely possible. Or maybe she was having her monthly visitor and didn't want to risk an embarrassing incident like this one. I don't know. I didn't write the song, so I can't speak for her innermost thoughts and fears.

Personally, I don't care if you're modest or an extrovert- just keep your thong anus out of my view. Wear what you want, whether it be a one piece or two or tankini or string bikini. But what really pissed me off, was the research she discussed about how a man's brain reacts to seeing women in various states of undress.

Her argument supporting modesty in swimwear was because when men see women in revealing bathing suits, it triggers their brain in the areas that acknowledge things as objects rather than relate-able individuals with whom they should interact and engage in meaningful conversation with. Women in revealing swim wear make men think in terms of actions such as "touch" and "grab" rather than in in emotions such as "connect" or "empathize." It makes them see objects rather than humanity.

To me this is sending a mixed message. It seems to me the problem is not with what the women are wearing, it is with the way the male brain works. So, because men cannot control their brainwaves and innate thought patterns, women should cater to male shortcomings and behave in a manner as to not illicit an inappropriate reaction?

Well to this is I say, FUCK THAT! I get that people are wired certain ways, but do we really need to change our lives and feel ashamed of things because we must consider how other people will see us and interpret us? No ma'am. Ain't nobody got time fo that. Life's too short. 

I know she didn't mention rape, but I am going to stretch things a bit here, since she wasn't suggesting women wear more modest swimwear for the sake of being more mysterious or leaving something to the imagination- which would be a little easier to swallow. Or not. The premise of her presentation was women should dress more modestly because we become things men objectify rather than relate to. No one deserves to be objectified or manhandled or sexually assaulted. Not the modest soccer mom, not the sexy actress, not the Puritan-ish clad young lady, not the teenage girl wearing the trendy shorty shorts, not the stripper, not the pageant toddlers, not the roofied graduate student, not the prostitute. Not the women and girls of India, who dress as modestly as they come, and are assaulted, raped, humiliated, pawed, groped, cat called, murdered and objectified on a horrifyingly regular basis.

When are we going to address the problem instead of band-aiding the trigger? In this day and age we shouldn't be having to teach our girls not to dress a certain way, act a certain way, feel the need to be ashamed of their bodies or hide them because they will get unwanted attention and possibly be assaulted and raped. Now I agree there are a lot of young girls and women that dress in a revealing style and act provocatively and push boundaries and limits. But that does not give someone carte blanche to react in a way that is clearly wrong. You don't see me losing my mind and running off to hump the lifeguards at the community pool just because they have no shirts on their tan, glistening, ripped abs. Jeez.

RISQUE                     MODEST                         WHORE  

Yes, we should teach our girls to have respect for themselves and not be little trollops, but the idea that women need to dress or behave in a way that quells the male's instinct to objectify us to prevent harm or incident is asinine. We instead need to focus on teaching and re-programming the male population that no matter what, women are to be treated with respect, dignity and grace at all times. And if that doesn't work, we need to electroshock therapy those motherfuckers into submission. Or lobotomize. 

Now if you'll excuse me, I have a new bikini top that I need to try out at the community pool and my favorite lifeguard is on duty today. Oh wait...     

Father's Day Conversation with Wiener

After a lovely home-cooked Father's Day breakfast of bacon, pancakes and eggs and the opening of cards and hand made gifts from the kids and I, we left for dip at the local community pool. 

Me: So how do you like my new bathing suit top? Does it look ok?

Wiener: Yes, it looks great. You're a beautiful woman.

Me: Aw, thank you. How sweet. And Happy Father's Day to you. You're welcome for the two beautiful children I gave you so you could enjoy this Father's Day.

Wiener: You mean the children I gave you?

Me: Um, no, the children I gave you. 

Wiener: No, you just pushed them out while you were on lots of awesome drugs. I gave them to you.

Me: What? No, I did all the work. You just laid there the whole time we had sex and then I carried them the entire nine months and gave birth to them.

Wiener: Whatever, I'm not even sure if DB is mine. She looks nothing like me.

Round and around and around and around we go...

Happy Father's Day Wiener. You really are a great dad. Even if your idea of helping clean up after dinner is moving the dirty dishes from the right side of the sink to the left and consolidating them. 

Wiener and all his FD goodies. Don't be jelly ladies.
Plus an awesome DB photo bomb.