Monthly Archives: April 2012

Man Rant Mondays III

Welcome to the third installment of “Man Rant Mondays”.  It’s not so much “complaining” about men as it is “advice” for men given from a woman’s point of view.  As with all advice from a woman, you can either take it or be wrong.  It’s entirely up to you.

Man Rant IIIMan Feet

Man feet are gross.  Feet in general are unpleasant, but at least us girls exfoliate, trim, moisturize and polish to take the edge off of the nastiness.  The sheer size of man feet make them ugly.  Then there’s the hairy toes, which more times than not are crossed over one another, like they’re locked in some sort of wrestling match.  Add to that the discolored uneven toenails, and stinky foot funk that smells like buttered popcorn covered in vinegar and you’ve got a hot mess that nobody wants to witness.  Also, what’s up with the second toe being dramatically longer than the first one, it’s like you’re flipping us off with your feet.  It’s not “cute” when you pick stuff up and hand it to us with your finger sized toes.  And no, we don’t think it’s a “cool trick” that you can actually pinch us with them.  Do us girls a favor and cover those man puppies up!


One Of Those Days

Have you ever woke up to a bad omen, like stubbing your toe, or a strange homeless person in your bed, and you just knew it was going to be one of those days?  Well yesterday morning my bad omen was a decapitated bunny on my driveway.  Head completely severed.  I began to run through the list of people I may have pissed off that might be trying to send me a message.  I was mildly rude to the cashier at the grocery store the other day.  In my defense, she should have known as she was ringing up my tampons that PMS was a likely factor here, so I’m not sure why she was working so slow.  Then there’s the homeowners association.  I’m a little late paying my dues.  If it was them I feel they’ve taken it a bit too far.  I mean, call a lawyer, like everyone else does.  I looked around and whispered “Edward Cullen, is that you?” I decided that I wasn’t touching dead bunny, so I recruited my husband for clean-up.  He goes outside, and with a piece of junk mail from the mailbox, begins “flicking” the head down the driveway and along the curb into the neighbor’s yard.  Are you kidding me?!  I’m pretty sure that falls under “littering” or something.  I talk to my neighbors on a regular basis.  I can already hear the conversation:

Me:  Hi Neighbor!  What’s up?

Neighbor:  Not much.  Why did your husband leave a rabbit’s head in front of my house.

Me:  It was a gift.  You don’t even want to know what he got me for my birthday last year…

Despite the bad omen, it ended up being a pretty good day for me.  Not so much for headless bunny.

Thank you for stopping in and reading my post!

Curse of the Chain Letter

Dear Family and Friends:  I’ve recently received some chain letters in my email and feel compelled to clear up a few things.

I’ve already had the shock of my life.  It turns out the world does NOT revolve around me.

I don’t need my true love to call me, as he is in the bedroom sleeping.  What I really need is for him to stop using my living room as a hamper.

If the “worst disease ever” happens to fall upon me, I’ll survive.  I have a great doctor AND a great drug dealer.

I feel sorry for the man who lost 40,000 dollars because he didn’t forward the chain letter, however, I’m only at risk for losing about 10 bucks since that’s all I have to my name.  I’ll take my chances.

I’m not intimidated by “bad luck”.  I’m broke, I can’t find my cool socks, my roof is leaking and I pee a little every time I sneeze.  Bring it.

Ten Things I Learned in Chicago

10) It is inappropriate to smell between the toes of the gigantic Marilyn Monroe statue.  Just so everyone knows, it doesn’t smell like anything anyway.

9) Chicago cab drivers are not afraid to die, and they’ll take you with them.  At one point I’m pretty sure we were up on two wheels.

8) City pigeons are nothing like suburban pigeons.  City pigeons will sit on your hand and drink your Starbucks while crapping on your leather jacket and if you don’t share they’ll cut you.

7) The car horn and the middle finger are the main forms of communication between drivers and pedestrians.

6) The group of old ladies in the Red Hats are a real gang, don’t let their smiles fool you.

5) When I bang on an upside down bucket it’s annoying.  When a group of guys do it on the city streets it’s music.

4) The “Bean” is useless.  The last thing I want to see is a giant mirror that makes me look short and fat under the unforgiving light of the sun.

3) The mall in my town isn’t a real mall.

2) When the train jolts as though it’s going to run off track, jumping up and screaming “We’re all going to f*cking die!!!” will get you nothing but dirty looks.

1) While the height of the buildings in the city is impressive, walking around while looking straight up is frowned upon.  Apparently people don’t like getting bumped into.  They think you’re trying to steal their wallets.

Dysfunctional Humor


I opened up my laptop to find that my background image had been set to a diagram of a penis.  It was huge, and bodiless, just hanging there in shame.  I had no idea who put it there until I heard my teenage son giggling like a girl in the other room.  After I got my laughter under control, I reminded him that my computer is not to be touched.  He stormed off to his room yelling dramatically over his shoulder that “this house is a PRISON!”  I rolled my eyes and looked back at my computer, laughing all over again, because let’s face it, penis’ look funny.

That’s how I lost my “Mother of the Year” award.

Eating dinner as a family, I began to fill my husband in on what he missed during the workday.  I informed him that our daughter had ripped a hole in the crotch of her tights at the elementary school and I had to run over there to drop off some new ones for her.  It was at this point that she announced to all of us “Yeah, I needed new tights because my vagina was getting cold.”

That’s how I lost my “Mother of the Year” award.

Sitting on the back porch with my toddler, I noticed him chewing on something.  I hadn’t given him anything to eat, so I asked what he had in his mouth.  He opened wide to show me.  On his tongue were a bunch of black crumbs.  Confused, I swiped his tongue with my finger and examined closely what I had retrieved.  I saw a body and a bunch of dismembered legs.  The head was gone.  He had been chewing on a spider.

That’s how I lost my “Mother of the Year” award.

Man Rant Mondays II

Welcome to the second installment of  “Man Rant Mondays”.  It’s not so much complaining about men as it is advice for men given from a woman’s point of view.  As with any advice from a woman, you can take it or be wrong.  It’s entirely up to you.

Ice penis in my pop

Man Rant II:  Sexual Innuendos

When I say I’m in the mood for sausage, I actually mean that I’m just in the mood for some food.  It’s bad enough that I have to chop up my banana before eating it to avoid looking like a dirty whore, but your ability to turn everything into something sexual is becoming excessive and hard to understand.  For instance, when I ask you to take out the garbage and you reply in a seductive tone “I’m going to take out YOUR garbage”, I don’t know what that means.  When I mention I need more protein in my diet, I mean cheese.  And while the large penis shaped ice-cube that happened to form when you froze your bottled water is most definitely impressive, I don’t want it in my glass of pop, banging against my lips with every sip I take while you unsuccessfully try to conceal your amusement.

The Real Signs Of Aging

When someone says “Do you want to party?”,  I enthusiastically reply “hell yeah” as I’m pulling out the Monopoly game.

When I wake up several times a night to pee, and I hadn’t even been drinking that evening.

When a friend calls at eight o’clock on Friday night and asks if I want to go out, but I’m already sleeping.

When living on the edge means I’m wearing a bra without under wire support.

When someone says “I have a surprise for you”, I cross my fingers that it’s an hour of babysitting so I can nap.

When I notice my kids are taller than me.  Because I’m shrinking.

When I get up and my body makes so much noise I’m afraid it’ll wake the baby.  Next door.

When I cough, sneeze or laugh too hard, I pee a little.

When I no longer want to do anything that requires me to take off my fuzzy slippers.

When I defend granny panties like they’re my children.