Since I live in a home worthy of the pages of Beautiful Home or Country Living or some other lovely rag that has no doubt gone out of print or is about to, I feel I am uniquely suited to dispense home decorating advice. If you have seen my home you know that my style and flair are unparalleled. Therefore it is my beholden duty to share my wisdom with you, the reader.
1. When in doubt, always tear off the back of the house. If you are ever standing around in your kitchen saying things like: "Hey, should I just burn this sucker down?" or "I'm gonna take a power saw to this mutha!" you should immediately start saving large quantities of money so that you can hire a wrecking ball to take care of the situation.
2. A home's beauty and value is deleteriously affected by the presence of any of the following: gun turret, live skunk on property, illegible grafitti on living room wall, angry ghost of grandmother, really creepy basement with biting spider(s), too many strange foil-wrapped mysteries in back of old rusting fridge.
3. That portrait of your mother's vagina above the glass-topped dining room table is really inappropriate.
4. If you tear out that original crown molding from your beautiful Victorian home, it is guaranteed that the future owners of the house are going to track down your ghost and beat the tar out of it.
5. Three phrases that should not go together in home décor: clowns, framed psalms, gynecological exam table.
6. Dead snakes and poo are not something you want on your nice wood floors. Remove them before guests come over and store them in a closet.
7. Lime green and teal wall-to-wall carpets are acceptable, but only if they are constantly in flames.
8. The foyer is the entry point to your home, and will present the first impression to visitors. Therefore, it is best to locate your wet bar and liquor cabinet in this area.
9. Bathrooms should feel like a zen-like retreat, riddled with all sorts of Feng Shui. Clumps of urine-soaked kitty litter granules, pressing into one's bare feet when one steps out of the shower, will ruin just about everything you have tried to achieve in your life thus far.
10. Shells should stay on the beach.
Monday, March 30, 2009
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
A Paean to Poo
Tonight second son insisted on shouting out rude words during dinner, so husband put him in a time out.
[Disclaimer: Yes, I did buy the Captain Underpants series for my sons, but can the excessive potty humor in those books really be responsible for the torrent of doo-doo words now uttered in my household?]
Anyway, the boys' potty talk has reached proportions unheard of in modern history. The conversation goes something like this most days:
Mother: Have you brushed your teeth?
Elder son: You mean PUT YOUR TEETH IN THE TOILET?
Second son: Take a bath in the toilet?
Elder son: Put your buttocks in the toilet.
Second son: Toilet poo-poo weiner! Buttocks poo-poo stinky butt!
Mother: But, have you brushed your teeth?
Elder son: I brushed my teeth [long pause]. IN THE TOILET!
This goes on all day and generally involves putting lunch in the toilet, one's backpack in the toilet, and butts and winkies "into the toilet." The toilet is the receptacle that inherits the universe. It is the swirling nexus-lexus of our world, drawing all intelligent conversation into its gurgling depths. Don't forget to jiggle the handle!
So second son couldn't stop himself today, and wound up in a vastly extended time out. [Please note that as the purchaser of the aforementioned Captain Underpants series, I cannot in good conscience apply time-outs for potty talk. Those who enforce such time outs are not me. I am too busy laughing.] Every time a doo-doo word was uttered, the clock reset itself for three minutes. For close to 45 minutes the little mite sat in his chair and, filled with glee, prattled on the following paean to poo:
Second son: I think about winkies! I think about butts! Buttocks poo-poo toilet. I have a winkie, it's really cool. Another glorious day to celebrate our butts! Another glorious day to celebrate our butts!
Daddy: [from other room] Time out starts again NOW!
Second son: Winkies! Butts! Poo! Poo! Winkies! Butts! Poo! Poo! Winkie party, winkie party. I have a butt. Buttocks. Buttocks. Buttocks. I think about butts. And pooooop! {maniacal laughter}
Daddy: [from other room] Time out starts again NOW!
Second son: Doody doo-doo. Poo. Poo. Poo. Poo. Take a bath in the toilet. Toilet! Toilet!
45 minutes later....
Second son: Stinky Winkie! Stinky Winkie! Doo doo! Winkie butt! {maniacal laughter} Turds. Butts. Poop. Poop! Poop!
[Disclaimer: Yes, I did buy the Captain Underpants series for my sons, but can the excessive potty humor in those books really be responsible for the torrent of doo-doo words now uttered in my household?]
Anyway, the boys' potty talk has reached proportions unheard of in modern history. The conversation goes something like this most days:
Mother: Have you brushed your teeth?
Elder son: You mean PUT YOUR TEETH IN THE TOILET?
Second son: Take a bath in the toilet?
Elder son: Put your buttocks in the toilet.
Second son: Toilet poo-poo weiner! Buttocks poo-poo stinky butt!
Mother: But, have you brushed your teeth?
Elder son: I brushed my teeth [long pause]. IN THE TOILET!
This goes on all day and generally involves putting lunch in the toilet, one's backpack in the toilet, and butts and winkies "into the toilet." The toilet is the receptacle that inherits the universe. It is the swirling nexus-lexus of our world, drawing all intelligent conversation into its gurgling depths. Don't forget to jiggle the handle!
So second son couldn't stop himself today, and wound up in a vastly extended time out. [Please note that as the purchaser of the aforementioned Captain Underpants series, I cannot in good conscience apply time-outs for potty talk. Those who enforce such time outs are not me. I am too busy laughing.] Every time a doo-doo word was uttered, the clock reset itself for three minutes. For close to 45 minutes the little mite sat in his chair and, filled with glee, prattled on the following paean to poo:
Second son: I think about winkies! I think about butts! Buttocks poo-poo toilet. I have a winkie, it's really cool. Another glorious day to celebrate our butts! Another glorious day to celebrate our butts!
Daddy: [from other room] Time out starts again NOW!
Second son: Winkies! Butts! Poo! Poo! Winkies! Butts! Poo! Poo! Winkie party, winkie party. I have a butt. Buttocks. Buttocks. Buttocks. I think about butts. And pooooop! {maniacal laughter}
Daddy: [from other room] Time out starts again NOW!
Second son: Doody doo-doo. Poo. Poo. Poo. Poo. Take a bath in the toilet. Toilet! Toilet!
45 minutes later....
Second son: Stinky Winkie! Stinky Winkie! Doo doo! Winkie butt! {maniacal laughter} Turds. Butts. Poop. Poop! Poop!
Friday, March 6, 2009
Oh Belvedere! Go Home, Boy!
Here is evidence that Belvedere Vodka's ad campaign at the Bleecker/Lafayette Street subway stop has overstayed its welcome. And that Vincent Gallo is known among many as a "filthy turd."
This stoopid ad campaign has been irritating me for a while now, and I have longed to wield my own Sharpie. Other commuters were not so self-restrained. When the posters are liberally decorated with penii, fangs, and obscenities, it's probably time to remove them, eh?
Enough said.
The writing on the woman's face reads "Take these filthy sexist posters down before I blow up this whole goddamn subway station. Ka-boom, muthafuckah!"
What is with this wet, feral look? Does this make me thirsty? Oh, Belvedere! Come bite me, boy!
Vincent Gallo, Bush Supporter.
This stoopid ad campaign has been irritating me for a while now, and I have longed to wield my own Sharpie. Other commuters were not so self-restrained. When the posters are liberally decorated with penii, fangs, and obscenities, it's probably time to remove them, eh?
Enough said.
The writing on the woman's face reads "Take these filthy sexist posters down before I blow up this whole goddamn subway station. Ka-boom, muthafuckah!"
What is with this wet, feral look? Does this make me thirsty? Oh, Belvedere! Come bite me, boy!
Vincent Gallo, Bush Supporter.
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