Massengill, Vagisil, Preparation H, Gold Bond Medicated Powder, Charmin, Always and Stayfree, can you PLEASE SHUT THE HELL UP???

Yeah, you know I really wanted to say, “Shut the fuck up,” but I thought I’d leave the REAL cursing for the post rather than the title. Believe it or not, I don’t want to constantly offend the entire world. Well, on most days at least. ;)

Let me tell you a little story. Back during the summer between 7th and 8th grade I’d go to the pool all the time. I was just starting to blossom into womanhood and was uncomfortable enough with periods and new boobs and boys and weird hair and wearing deodorant. It was all a little overwhelming when puberty struck. Anyway, that particular day I was off to the pool with a friend of mine and we had to show our pool IDs to the pool ID guy. As it turned out, the pool ID guy was one of the hottest guys in our town. His name was Ricky and every girl (and I’m sure plenty of guys) wanted to be his sweetheart. He was simply beautiful. Drool… Anyway, I digress… So, Ricky had a little black and white TV up at his ID checking station. Since he couldn’t see the pool area from his post and check out all the hot bodied girls, he needed something to occupy his time, right?

Well, there my girlfriend and I are, passing him our IDs and trying to make small talk with this heavenly god of a boy and all of a sudden a maxi pad commercial came on the TV. SHIT!!!! What should I do? I can’t stay here and let him think that because I’m a girl that I have to deal with those things. I don’t want him thinking of me as a bleeder!! NOOOOOO!! ARRRRRRGH!!!! So, what did we do? We ran screaming into the girl’s locker room. Yep, the most mature thing we could come up with was running away like our hair was on fire. In all honesty, I was blushing so bad it felt like my face was on fire. How absolutely horrible to have the fact that I have girl parts that do oogie things thrown into Ricky’s face as we all stood there scantily clad in barely-there bikinis. It was quite simply too much to bear.

After hiding in the locker room for about 10 minutes and getting our breath back, we ventured out to the pool. We were both still so embarrassed about the pad commercial that we stayed at the pool, turning into deeply suntanned raisins, until Ricky’s shift was over. There was NO WAY IN HELL we were going to walk past him that day. Nope. No how. No way. Unh unh.

Now, I realize that may seem like an overreaction in today’s world, but remember, this was back in 1983. Girls and boys did not discuss the kinds of stuff that we now feel free to openly discuss with the poor mailman or the chick at the Gap. Back then, we had a bit more decorum. Obviously, I got over some of that. But NOT ALL!!! There are still things I would no sooner discuss with my husband than I would with the Pope. There are certain things that should remain a mystery. What happens south of the border should be among those things. So, in case you haven’t figured it out, here’s my beef: I am sooooooooo sick of hearing about the foulness of body parts I could vomit until I passed out from exhaustion. Damn, that’s a lot of vomiting. ;)

Let’s address these disgusting products with at least a modicum of truth. :)

  1. Massengill. NO ONE WANTS TO HEAR IF A WOMAN HAS A “NOT SO FRESH” FEELING! For fuck’s sake, how gross and disgusting can a commercial be? Gentlemen, please believe me when I say that women do not bond over discussing such things while skipping through a field of lavender wearing bonnets and free-flowing white skirts. I’m going to say that no woman (as far as you know) has ever encountered a not-so-fresh feeling because our nether regions are yummy like an ice cream sundae. But on the slim-to-none chance that one ever did (which I doubt) they sure as shit would not have a conversation about it like is depicted in those stupid commercials.
  2. Vagisil. Ummm…women KNOW what the hell you are good for. Must you spell it out like we are retarded? Honest to God, I was eating dinner the other night and nearly puked up my food when I saw one of their commercials. I’m a GIRL and I nearly upchucked my dinner. I can only imagine how disgusting it is for men to have to suffer through them. GROSS!!! Here’s my real issue with it: Women know if something is amiss and know (unless sheltered by parents who refuse to admit that their daughter has girl parts) how to go about getting it fixed. We do NOT need details on the icky issue and we do not need to know every symptom to be on the lookout for. Because if you remind us of all the gross symptoms on NATIONAL FUCKING TV DURING DINNER, how on earth do you ever expect a man to wanna go down there again??? Generally speaking, we like a man to crave our body parts. We want men to dream about that wonderful spot and long for it on a daily basis. We do NOT want them reminded that sometimes there is a “Closed for Business” sign on it for one reason or another. Can there be no mystery left???
  3. Preparation H. Good Lord have mercy. Yes, I’m sure having the issue that needs the attention of Preparation H is not pleasant. I can only imagine that it sucks. But Preparation H has been around since the dawn of time and I’m fairly sure most of us know what it’s used for, so MUST we go into detail on the itching and burning? Really? Must we? I mean, gross. Can you just say, “If you are having problems with your back door, use Preparation H”? Do the commercials really have to get as graphic as a visit to the proctologist? Ugh. Ick.
  4. Gold Bond Medicated Powder. Info on this should be passed down from dad to son, or uncle to son, or health class teacher to the boys. Just like men don’t want to hear about Vagisil, we don’t want to hear about men’s spicy, itchy man sacks. Just as our girl parts are like an ice cream sundae, your man parts should remain a fun playground for our enjoyment. I don’t want to wretch thinking about all the symptoms Gold Bond relieves.
  5. Charmin. My husband was so horrified by the most recent Charmin commercial that he made me sit through it just to horrify me too. It’s nice how couples do that kind of stuff! ;) This particular one was a cartoon of a Mama bear peeking into her baby bear’s undershorts and grimacing by what she saw, while baby bear peeks in the window watching her inspect his undies. It was sooooooooo gross!! Do they really think that by softening it up with cute, animated bears that it is any less disgusting? Can’t we all agree that we ALREADY FUCKING KNOW what TP is for and don’t need it shoved in our faces in such an icky manner. I mean, really, who wants to picture what she was seeing in his underwear? But you can’t help but visualize it in your mind’s eye. Seriously, that is soooo nasty. Can we please bring back Mr. Ripple and the “Don’t squeeze the Charmin” ads? So much less filthy and nasty.
  6. Always and Stayfree. I’d venture to say that in this day and age, with the Internet and a much-lowered filter (I’m guilty of not having much of a filter!) that a great percentage of girls and certainly all women know what a maxi-pad is. Do we need to actively remind everyone what women have to suffer from, in graphic detail, every month? Is it not enough that Eve ate the damn apple and cursed us with Aunt Ruby’s monthly visit? Do we need to show with liquid how much more absorbent one pad is over the other. It’s all marketing bullshit anyway, so is it that important to have demonstrations? I guess I should just be happy that they use blue water instead of red. ICKY!!! ;) Worse yet are the tampon commercials. Those show women doing the splits on a trampoline so they can give us a crotch shot to prove that there’s no string hanging out and no leaks. Again–GROSS!!! Those commercials are a crotch-fest. I’ve never seen so much poon outside of a porn. What got into their brains that they thought this was acceptable??? Just wrong, I tells ya. Wrong.

Whew! That was exhausting! ;)

Now, I full on realize that I am fairly filter-free. I pretty much say what I think, using whatever coarse language I want. But here’s the difference: if you don’t want to read my mouthiness, you don’t have to. You can say, “Good Lord, but that girl is foul!!! I’m never reading her blog again!” And you’d be all set. You’d never have to be horrified by my sass-mouth again. We don’t have that option with today’s commercials. They are served up to us, so often during the dinner hour, and we cannot escape them quite as easily as you can escape me. If these commercials would cut down to 15 seconds and just tell you the basics at a very high level and then for more info you can visit their website, I could live with that. Then they could overwhelm you with any gross thing they want on their website that you voluntarily went to. But to force it down our throats while we are watching TV in mixed company is just awful. Especially, if you are watching it with a mother- or father-in-law. Or a grandparent. Yicky!!!

Okay, that’s my rant of the week. I’ve thought these things for 30+ years and it’s so nice to finally have an avenue for spewing on and on about it!! :) For those of you who stuck it out through this diatribe, bless your sweet and patient hearts! XOXOXO

PS: If the conversation in this video ever actually happened, I’ll eat my hat. :)

Utterly Random Babbling from a Fruitcake

Actually, I don’t like fruitcake. I do like banana nut bread though. Mmmmm…banana nut bread. Now I want some. I do think I’m going to make some funnel cakes this weekend. Talk about yummy and SO healthy!! ;) Lord, my ass grew 3 inches just thinking about funnel cake. :)

Since a bunch of you have asked where I ran off to last week and why I haven’t been around its because the hubby and I went to visit his family last week in Minnesota. The weather was AWESOME! Nice and cool and cloudy and the trees were so colorful. It was just beautiful. Why someone like me, who hates heat and the awful torturer known as the sun, lives in AZ is beyond me. I’m not bright, I guess.

Okay, so for my rambling thoughts (and they are rambles, let me warn you!! As a matter of fact, no one should even read this. Run from your computer now!!!).

  1. People who are dickfaces can suck it. How’s that as a start? ;) I say this because in the last couple of weeks I ran up against a dickface. (Ooohhh, that sounds dirty…) I try to never surround myself with such people because my normally agreeable, fairly sweet self gets stuffed into a jar and the “Don’t fuck with me or I’ll cut you” side of me comes bubbling out. For example, back when I used to party in Scottsdale some of the funnest times I had were slowly disassembling cocky assholes at bars until they were fetal and crying for mommy. I just can’t take it when a guy comes up and essentially says, “I’m the shit (ummmm…no). I’m hot (they rarely are). I’m rich (they never are). I’m drive a fancy car (leased and paid for by them and their 9 roommates). I only like girls with fake tits (mine are real, douchebag). I don’t like girls with opinions (as that means you have to actually think to have a proper conversation). I’ll buy you a drink, but expect head as a thank you (on this they are never kidding). Everyone loves me–I know you do too (not in your wildest dreams, mo fo).” While I’m sure a better person than me would just blow them off, every one and I while I get a little hot in the blood and have to verbally throw down until my opponent is decimated. I know this makes me a bad person (it doesn’t happen that often!) but I just cannot suffer fools and people who behave like that just fuel my fire. I know there is the female equivalent to my bar guy, so gentlemen don’t think I don’t understand that chicks can be just as annoying. :)
  2. If you are not happy with your life, change it. I know this is WAY easier said than done. I know there is no magic wand that we can just wave and BING! we’re rich, happy, healthy and built like a brick shit house. But there are things one can do to make life a little happier. All this constant sulking and blaming and whining and blah blah blah is so pointless. Don’t get me wrong. I occasionally sulk and whine. Everyone gets to do that every once and a while. But to just live life like that is a waste. First step to a happier life? Cut the people who make you want to kill things out of your life. If you can’t stand them or they make you unhappy, choose to not be around them. If they don’t like that, tough shit. They need to be nicer or then can go screw.
  3. I need a ranch. Yep. One of these days, I’m going to have a ranch with chickens and goats. I want the little pygmy goats that are black and white and look like cow-goats. Then they’ll also look like my Moopy kitty. I’ll have a Moopy Cat and Moopy Goats. Ahhh…sounds like heaven.
  4. While I love traveling in first class, there shouldn’t be one. I got Grant and myself an upgrade on the way to Minnesota and it was HEAVEN!!! You can see how much we enjoyed it by the pic. Even the teddies were in heaven. Yes, we travel with teddies. But I digress. If they could just give everyone a speck more room and treat everyone with a little more dignity, then we could ALL be happier on a plane. I understand they can’t give out free food and drinks to a plane full of people. They’d go bankrupt. But if we could just get a little more space and not (in most, but not all, cases) be treated like a chore, then those sitting in coach may not want to burn down all of first class.

    Tick Teddy and Dopple Bear having the time of their lives! DRUNKS!!

  5. I miss my furries when I’m away from them. I guess this is how people with kids must feel when they are away from the kiddos for an extended period of time. I wanted my little kitties in my lap while I was out of town. I missed their stupid retardedness so much. I love me a FuzzyButt and Moopers. :)
  6. I”m never happier than when I’m at a zoo with my honeypie. :) That one kinda speaks for itself.

    Grant and me on our 5 year 1st date anniversary. :)

  7. I’m going to be a photographer at a wedding in 2 weeks. Woo Hoo! I’m terrified that I’ll fuck it all up, but deep down I know I won’t. I usually take pretty darn good pictures, so hopefully I won’t go blind between now and then. A friend of mine has been with her guy for 17 years (and she’s only like 35!) and they are finally tying the knot. Can you see why I’d be scared to death to have that responsibility? But I figure if I take 2000 pics, I can find at least 10 that’ll be presentable. Keep your fingers crossed, please!! :)
  8. Quartz countertops stain. DON’T BELIEVE ANYONE WHO TELLS YOU THEY DON’T!!! Liars!!! We just redid our kitchen and when deciding on a countertop I told the lady that we needed something that wouldn’t stain. I was willing to get a super-dark counter (even though the white is so pretty and clean looking) if it meant that it would be worry free. The LIAR told me that I could let coffee and red wine sit on the white quartz for 2 years and it wouldn’t stain. Ummmm…NOT TRUE! My brand new, expensive countertop SUCKS. The countertop inspector guy is coming over in an hour to look at it. I can only hope he can figure something out because if I have to sue Home Depot, I will.
  9. I have THE best Mommy ever!The more I hear people’s stories, and see first hand, what other people have had to deal with when they have moms that aren’t so sweet and loving, I appreciate my mommy more and more. I’m pretty sure my mom has never said an unkind word to me in my entire life. My mom is a sweet little Southern Baptist and when I was in my teens I dressed like a street whore and listened to AC/DC. She never once made me feel judged or unloved. Ultimately, I was a pretty good girl. Yeah, I drank my share and may have puffed off of a few things that burned, but I was always a nice kid and never got into really bad things. I mean, I never went to school, but I ended up pretty well in terms of education. Through all of this, my mom never criticized me. Don’t get me wrong, she was tough. We couldn’t cuss (can you IMAGINE????). We had ridiculously early curfews and got severely grounded if we were late. She didn’t put up with any backtalk or any bullshit, but she understood that we were individuals, so she let us fly high our freak flags. :) God bless a good mommy.

    Yep, that’s me 100 years ago with a can of Busch beer and no, that is not cigarette smoke in the air.

    Okay, I’ve got to go get ready for the kitchen inspector. If you actually stayed the course and read this tome, bless your heart. I was just having Random Thought Friday and thought I’d share. :) Have a great weekend, everyone! :) XOXO

    PS: I know “countertop” is two words, but it should be one word, so I took a stand! ;)

I am soooooooooo naughty!!!

Sorry, pervs. Not naughty like that! At least not this time. :)

I decided to not give a rat’s ass about what I jammed in my mouth today. I usually try to be fairly good, but today I said screw it.

Here’s my briefest post ever and the chronological rundown of my happy (ready to vomit) tummy contents:

  1. Spaghetti (my yummy recipe)
  2. 1 dark chocolate truffle
  3. 1 Skinny Cow snacky thing
  4. 1 Starbucks venti frappuccino light with 2 sweet & lows and sugar-free caramel
  5. Spaghetti again, because it’s damn good!
  6. 8 nacho cheese doritos
  7. 7 salt and vinegar potato chips
  8. 9 tortilla chips with nacho cheese
  9. 1 small Toblerone candy bar
  10. 1 square of peppermint bark and dark chocolate
  11. 12 green gummybears (2 of them were stuck together doing grown-up things–dirty little bears!)

I’m thinking that if I live through the night it will be a miracle.

Oh, and I just found part of a Dorito in my bra and a smear of spaghetti sauce on my shoulder. WTF? My shoulder? And I was in public for HOURS after eating spaghetti. Good grief.

In honor of my very full belly, let me introduce you to Sparky. He’s in the new cookbook, but I’m not tellin’ why he makes an appearance. I’m mean like that! ;)

Sparky the Dragon
Created by the wonderful Kimberley at:
http://theembiggensproject.wordpress.com/

STOP THE PRESSES!!!

Check out this awesome blog from Rants From My Crazy Kitchen! She’s going to have some of her awesome recipes in my new cookbook coming out at the end of October.

:)

STOP THE PRESSES!!!.

YAY!!! I finally have the cover to my new cookbook! YAY!

Woo hoo!!! After much trial and error, the cover for my new cookbook is ready. I’m so excited! I wanted to show it to you guys to see if you like it (fingers crossed!).

Yay! My new cookbook cover!!

I must share that I had more than a little help with the book. My hubby, sister and mom were instrumental in getting this book written. Their kitchen skills and my sister’s editing skills made this book what it is. It’s got my sassy mouth in it (sans cuss words, believe it or not) but it’s got the love and dedication of my wonderful family on every page too. I’ll never be able to thank them enough!!

Also, two of my wonderful blogger buddies contributed to it.

Bernadette of Rants From My Crazy Kitchen blogging fame contributed 2 recipes to the book. They are so good they make me drool every time I read them!

Kimberley of Face Like a Frying Pan blogging fame created Sparky the Dragon for me. He’s a little surprise that you’ll find within the book.

Big thanks to both of them for their help!!! :) The book would be less without your amazing contributions!!!

The book is slated for release at the very end of October or the first few days of November. It’ll be in printed versions in both color and black & white and on Kindle. It’ll eventually be on Nook too.

Have I mentioned how excited I am???? A LOT of blood, sweat and tears went into writing this book (literally, not figuratively!), but it was worth it all. When I hold it in my hands it makes me so happy and proud. :) Yay cookbook!

I’m going to cry. I never cry, but I’m gonna. Poop.

My sweet babies Chipmunk Chicken and Mouthy

As you guys know, for Christmas my wonderful hubby surprised me with 2 sweet baby chickens. I’d wanted chickens for years and years and I was so excited. We went and picked out our little furry guys; one we named Chipmunk Chicken because he looked like a chipmunk and the other we named Mouthy because she made so much adorable noise. Grant built them a big wooden coop and a fenced-in yard with a sunroof so they wouldn’t overheat in the blistering hot summer. They live in chicken paradise.

Well, Chipmunk Chicken grew up to be a boy–quite the surprise, but he was just so cute and sweet it didn’t even matter. Although I’m sure it probably mattered to our little girl chicken as she was the victim of chicken rape about 10 times a day. Poor little critter.

Look ma! I can stand on one leg! I’m a talented chicken!

The great thing about our chickens was that since I raised them since they were a week old, they knew me and every time I’d come outside they’d get all excited and start making noise and running around like crazy chickens. It was pure awesomeness.

Until Wednesday. Animal control dropped by and threatened us with a $2,500 fine and up to 6 months in the pokey if we didn’t get rid of our grown up Chipmunk Raper chicken. I could rob a 7-11 or molest a goat and get less time in jail. Apparently, one of our other (dick!) neighbors complained. Now, I understand if we lived in a quiet neighborhood that my chicken may have been noisy and annoying, but all you ever hear is a cacophony of a million dogs barking all day and night. Non-stop. Loudly. Irritatingly. My chicken, by comparison, was mute.

Fear the chicken wrath! I’m a big chicken!

So, I asked my nextdoor neighbor (who the day before asked me if we wanted any of their hens as they were about to chop all their heads off–NOOOOO!) if she knew of anywhere that would take my beloved little chicken and not kill him. I also asked if she’d sent her chickens to heaven yet and if not, could I have one for my soon-to-be-lonely little hen? She, being an AWESOME neighbor, asked a relative who owns a farm if they’d take my little critter without beheading him and they agreed. Thank God. We did the chicken swap yesterday and now I have my Mouthy chicken and a new chicken, but no Chipmunk Rapey chicken anymore.

Happiest chicken mommy ever to have lived.

I guess it’s good because at least we got to save one from the chopping block in my neighbor’s backyard, but I miss my little pet so much. And I’m not the only one. My Mouthy chicken, who got much quieter as she got older, won’t stop crying. Now, I know you think I’ve crossed the line into insanity when I say that. I mean, can a chicken be sad? I know I can sometimes personify animals, but this chicken went from hardly making a sound the last 6 months to making this pathetic little warble. She just sits there, not moving, and making the saddest, most plaintive little noises. Even when I go into their yard to play with her, she just sits there crying her little chicken cry. There are few things on earth that sound sadder than that. I know she misses him. They were always together. Honest to goodness, never more than 2 feet apart. They slept cuddled together. They roosted together. They played together. It was so damn precious.

Here’s a video of my little babies the day we brought them home. Beware, I have my my mommy voice goin’ on so I sound a bit like a dim bulb idiot tard, but you’ll be able to tell I’m obviously in love with the little buggers.

Anyway, just wanted to share my sad little chicken story. My heart’s kinda broken…