Pleasantly Demented

A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away……

No, not really. But it’s on TV right now, for those of us who hate football, Christmas movies, and toy commercials.

I’m just here, doing stuff. And whatnot. How are you? That’s nice. So, I’ve been told that Christmas is a month away. Is that right? Oh, the strange and blinky/flashy things you humans celebrate!

I am not a holiday kind of girl. Not even a little. Truly, the whole shebang is just a pain in my ass. That kinda includes birthdays, too. I have been trying for a couple years now to get the whole fam on the “cancelling birthdays” bandwagon. With no success.

I hate cooking, so Thanksgiving is a non-holiday, just serving to piss me off that Dominos was closed. As was the Chinese place.

Christmas? My kids are fucking teenagers. Can’t we cancel the present-buying conspiracy already? I’d much rather save the money for a no-expense-spared trip to some exotic country.

Obviously, I am overruled on all fronts. I even got the stinkeye this year for effectively cancelling Sarge’s birthday without his knowledge or consent. Ahem. Fine. It was a bitchy thing to do.

I figure I’ll just toss the boys a wad of cash and call it Christmas.

Yeah, I’m a scrooge. Whatevah.

So the boys have been busy doing boy things. Whatever it is they do. You know, acne cream and way overdoing the Axe body spray. Cuz that’s how they roll.

Sarge has been busy having MS and all that. Playing Army med board chess. Once again proving that no matter how long and how honorably you served, you’re still just a social security number.

I’ve been busy doing, ummm, you know, me things. Whatever it is I do. Running a lot. Probably too much. My knee is threatening to go on strike at any moment. And I just ignore its silly little pestering crepitus. Cuz that’s how I roll.

If I can bribe one of my spawn properly, I will hopefully have a couple of pics of my (drumroll…..) first ever running event ever in the history of myself. Do they call it a race? Or an event? Does it matter? Anyway, this Sunday, Sarge and I will be running a 10K together AND I AM SO SUPER EXCITED I CAN’T SIT STILL!!!

Oh my lord, I just used exclamation points. What’s the world coming to?

So, anyway. To recap. Aimee hates holidays. Aimee is a slutty whoring little bitch of a wife because she cancelled Sarge’s birthday, even though he got to buy a new truck. The boys have zits. Sarge still has MS. And AIMEE IS A BADASS BITCH!

The end.

November 1, 2011

It’s always an experience to hear Jake tell stories. He, my baby chile, got questioned by the law this morning. It’s understandable. It’s a school day. A random hooligan is walking around the neighborhood. Of course, the cops are going to be suspicious. Just more proof that my kid’s entire life is improv and the world is his stage. Here’s how it all went down (according to my 16-year-old chile):

Cop- “scuse me, boy. What’r you doin out here on a school day?”
Jake- “Well, see, it goes a little something like this…..”

*Neighbor who knows Jake sees it all going down and walks outside to lend Jake a hand.*

Neighbor- “Hey now, what’s goin on? This is a good kid here, he’s free to go, you got that?” (small chuckle)
Cop- “Well, sir, you see….”
Neighbor- “He’s homeschooled. Leave him alone.”
Cop- “Oh! I understand now. Sorry bout that.”
Jake – “Well, if you really want to, you can throw me in the hole for being SO DAMN AWESOME!”

*Cop laughs uncontrollably.*

*Jake walks home to tell me his fish story.*

Hey fuckers, wassup?  It's been a while, eh?

*Crawling back in my hole*