tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-82461800894962935812024-02-19T06:28:29.117-08:00From My Point of ViewA little bit of this a little bit of that. Some crafts, recipes, thoughts, frustrations and alway a greatful heart to God.Melissa Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13223170707265595091noreply@blogger.comBlogger22125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246180089496293581.post-30512322445932958042011-12-06T10:21:00.000-08:002011-12-06T10:21:17.416-08:00So I'm not PerfectGuess I didn't keep my promise to stay current with my blog. Sorry to the whopping 3 people who are not related to me that follow it...I've been a little busy. When you work 2 jobs, are a full time student, wife, mother, housekeeper, chef, personal assistant and small business owner things get crazy and you just can't find time to write.<br />
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So I'm going to try harder to post more often.<br />
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Things here in sunny California are going so well. God has blessed our little family in so many ways. We now have a non-leaky roof over our heads, but that doesn't mean my bedroom is livable. In fact far from it. We need drywall, a ceiling, carpet, closet doors, ect. Its actually really cold without those things and its starting to freeze the rest of the house.<br />
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Christmas is fast approaching and so is my birthday. (Yippeee, this year I'm ok with celebrating it) Our family has been busy decorating the house for the holiday, trimming the tree and beginning the baking. The biggest challenge has been keeping our 7 month old bloodhounds (Lady and Lulu) out of the tree and not chewing on our gifts. *Sigh*<br />
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As your family begins to celebrate remember the holiday season is here because God blessed us with the birth of his only Son.<br />
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I'm bringing back Christmas. I'm not going to be politically correct this year or any here after! Merry Christmas!!!! Jesus is the reason we celebrate, its not the gifts, its not the trees or lights, its the birth of our Lord!Melissa Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13223170707265595091noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246180089496293581.post-5685295394221340392011-03-16T21:15:00.000-07:002011-03-17T13:25:52.335-07:00Bragging RightsBecause its been a great day and I don't want to bring anyone else down I think I'll do some bragging instead. <br />
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In case you've been living in a hole underground with no access to the outside world there was a devastating earthquake followed by a horrible tsnuami in Japan. The news footage is never ending. Thousands are dead, injured or missing. The people of Japan are doing as good as can be expected, in fact they are doing so much better then our own people here in America when we had the Hurricane Katrina disaster.<br />
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My youngest son is 6 years old and in the first grade. We've talked about this disaster and how it is affecting the people of Japan. He's really concerned because one of the little girls in his class has grandparents in Japan. He asks after every news clip if that part of Japan is where his friends family lives. I always tell him no. He's just worried sick.<br />
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So on Monday when he walked into class he went straight to his teacher and asked her if their class could do a fundraiser to help the children and victims of Japan. <br />
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My heart burst with pride when his teacher told me. I'm sure the many talks and discussions about helping others helped him with this idea. Needless to say his entire school is collecting spare change to help the victims of Japans' earthquake and I couldn't be prouder!Melissa Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13223170707265595091noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246180089496293581.post-9971095709846941622011-03-14T23:02:00.000-07:002011-03-14T23:02:23.365-07:00Where did all the fat go?<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="http://files.sharenator.com/fat_woman_with_fat_hanging_out_of_dress_If_browsers_were_women-s394x410-28069-580.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" id="il_fi" src="http://files.sharenator.com/fat_woman_with_fat_hanging_out_of_dress_If_browsers_were_women-s394x410-28069-580.jpg" style="padding-bottom: 8px; padding-right: 8px; padding-top: 8px;" width="192" /></a>If your wondering where all the fat people are just take a walk at the grocery store or Walmart down the street from my house. Holly cow batman. I mean seriously how do you let your self get to be that big? Its not healthy, its not attractive, and I'm sure it costs an arm and a leg to feed that belly. </div><br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="http://media.peopleofwalmart.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/10/2083.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="2083" border="0" class="alignnone size-full wp-image-25672" height="125" src="http://media.peopleofwalmart.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/10/2083.jpg" title="2083" width="200" /></a>When did it become normal to have this big flap of skin and fat hanging so far down from your stomach that you can't see your knees? Its hideous and wrong! I'm not perfect and admit I own a few pairs of jeans that will give me the muffin top look (before you say anything I've had to kids so shut up). But at the same time I'm not shooting for handicap plates on my car so I don't have to walk more then 10 feet the electric cart at the store. What's the weight limit on those things anyway? I could swear the woman at Walmart had smoke coming out from under hers. Talk about engine strain.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">So how do we take care of this obese epidemic?</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">I'm so glad you asked, because I have some great solutions:</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><ol><li><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Lets not make clothing in that 2XL thru 8XL category any longer. If they want to be that fat make them wear a sheet. By providing these people with clothing that hides the enormous amount of fat are we really helping them?</div></li>
<li><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Put a scale in front of the counter at McDonalds and require these people to stand on it and have their weight publicly announced before they can place their order. I can see it now..."You weigh 479 lbs. Can I take your order? Would you like to supersize that big mac? No, ok let me make sure your order is correct. That's a 20 piece chicken mc nugget, 2 big macs, 2 large fries, a large vanilla shake and a diet coke." I guarantee that these people would turn around and walk out the door the minute they saw the scale.</div></li>
<li><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Lets narrow the doorways. Instead of those 40" doors or the double doors, all door opening should be 30" or smaller. He he, I can just see these people trying to slide in sideways through the door like a bagel into a toaster.</div></li>
<li><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Mandate these people obtain a gym membership paid for out of pocket and use it before providing them with medical coverage. Imagine the amount of heart disease and diabetes that could be cured with weight-loss alone. </div></li>
</ol><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Just so we're clear I'm not a person who hates or despises overweight people. I just don't understand how or why anyone would let their body fall so far into that fattening status. Its wrong! I want to live a long and healthy life and see my boys grow up to be the amazing men I know they will become, but I can't do that if I die from fat surrounding my heart and other internal organs causing unnecessary damage. Wake up people! Put the chili dog down and step away from the ho-ho's. Grab a stalk of celery and go for a walk. If you keep up these habits your going to die at an early age and the inheritance your family could have received will go to pay for your over sized casket.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
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" style="cursor: move; height: 185px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; width: 272px;" unselectable="on" width="272" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A casket built for two or one REALLY large person</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Melissa Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13223170707265595091noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246180089496293581.post-16116712102497335802011-03-13T20:32:00.000-07:002011-03-13T20:35:40.912-07:00Brown Chicken, Brown CowOk, here's the deal. As I was driving home from work the DJ on the radio was saying his 3 year old loved watching this music video and every time it came on his son would get up and sing the song and dance to the video. Of course to be helpful I have attached the video for you to view before giving you my rational on it.<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/MzQ4qdlhurc" title="YouTube video player" width="640"></iframe><br />
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If you didn't watch the video you might not understand my rant.<br />
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Seriously, Is this a video aimed at children or adults? Who lets their 3 year watch this? I'm telling you right now if my 8 year old watched this he'd know exactly what those puppets were doing behind the hay bale. What would Sesame Street and Jim Henson say if they had seen the cleavage on that female puppet? Eat your heart out Miss Piggy! If you want a rack like that your going to have to schedule an appoint with a Fluffing Surgeon. <br />
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Secondly, did they really end the video showing a chicken and a cow after doing the deed? Can you see that on Elmo's world. Ohh Ohh Mr Fish, somethings wrong with Mr Noodles pants.<br />
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And why did she rip her eyes and hair off her face? Anyone see the point in that? Guess I can't ask for much since the video and song are titled "Brown Chicken Brown Cow"<br />
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Really, seriously the stripper pole in the hay loft. What farmer keeps a stripper pole in the hay loft? Obviously those are kept in the pole barn. Hence the term pole.<br />
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I'm just not sure what the record label was thinking when they pitched this video idea. Hey guys I know where we can get a great deal on some trashy farm puppets, lets use them for this video. Maybe they figured since the song title sounded like a kindergarten lesson the video should appeal to that demographic.<br />
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Guess I can't complain too loudly, they could have used real animals...yikes.Melissa Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13223170707265595091noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246180089496293581.post-36467565242921470752011-03-10T21:23:00.000-08:002011-03-10T21:25:00.240-08:00Better late then never I guessSo I'm really late as my fabulous cousin Chad tagged me on his blog back in October, but there was so much going on then.<br />
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Its basically a change to answer a bunch of questions in as many words as you want as honestly, crazy or scarily as you want.<br />
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My hubby says I love to talk about myself so I guess there could be worse things. I mean seriously most of my other blogs are about me bitching about something so why not.<br />
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<strong><span style="color: #4c1130;">1. If they were to make a biopic of your life what would it be titled and who would be casted to play you?</span></strong><br />
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Seriously if they were to make a biopic of my life it would be a soap opera maybe we could call it, And you thought your family was awful. If you look at my parents divorce record, my in-laws divorce record, the drama of the many divorces, my life would take one hour a day every weekday for 30 years. Who would play me? Hmmm the current me would be Mary-Louise Parker and then I would be recast by Susan Lucci because that woman is never going to age. Finally as age would have to take its toll, I'd like to see me as an old lady played by Betty White. (she reminds me of my grandma)<br />
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<strong><span style="color: #4c1130;">2. What is your favorite dessert? Be specific</span></strong>.<br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_NSipT0aNjlNJ0FAtIPIBUenSL5mrtMKBZz2PR1PKl3QJArb7yTk9ecBEe1Brm8RcF0kH_vfU9SpIxqdD-ojEHz8SCyzTg_8uAioJJcrduep-F8PuZ8t1n2r0PYMeqNsd_fRPTxtj7Y0/s1600/cheesecake.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="138" q6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_NSipT0aNjlNJ0FAtIPIBUenSL5mrtMKBZz2PR1PKl3QJArb7yTk9ecBEe1Brm8RcF0kH_vfU9SpIxqdD-ojEHz8SCyzTg_8uAioJJcrduep-F8PuZ8t1n2r0PYMeqNsd_fRPTxtj7Y0/s200/cheesecake.bmp" width="200" /></a></div>Did you say dessert. That has to my mouths most favorite word, however my ass hates it. I'd eat just about any dessert out there. I'm good with chocolate; but I really, really love cheesecake with fresh strawberries on top. Mmmm, if this doesn't get finished its because I headed to the kitchen for dessert.<br />
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Your hungry now aren't you?<br />
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<span style="color: #4c1130;"><strong>3. What's your favorite cocktail, shot, and wine? In that order.</strong></span> <br />
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Well because I spend so much time drinking my favorite cocktail would have to be fruit cocktail. I use to fight with my brothers over who got the most cherries, and now my kids fight over them.<br />
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I'd have to say my favorite shot is a .22 (again I'm a big drinker). This little baby has no recoil and if shot into a head will just rattle around in there. (or so I'm told)<br />
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Now for the wine, give me anything that makes the voices go away. After spending the day with 300+ elementary school kids on the playground I need some quiet. Wine that goes good with a bath or a warm bed and a book is good too.<br />
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<strong><span style="color: #4c1130;">4. What is your favorite holiday? How would you celebrate it?</span></strong><br />
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<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlAR6CavNHM81fX9-Kut7nFglRMjAbPnlOQUVeMLE0x28BVz9fxJw3CKSQnR92gtc3pYPkmjWH7AXfRedIv3L1uegpBaoy6zr50OsNvrXSQQNNjf8gN837AnxBU-S5VNT0eH_0ak6qR44/s1600/IMG_0478.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" q6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlAR6CavNHM81fX9-Kut7nFglRMjAbPnlOQUVeMLE0x28BVz9fxJw3CKSQnR92gtc3pYPkmjWH7AXfRedIv3L1uegpBaoy6zr50OsNvrXSQQNNjf8gN837AnxBU-S5VNT0eH_0ak6qR44/s200/IMG_0478.JPG" width="150" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Hmmmm, favorite holiday? I'm really not so great at celebrating holidays. I barely decorate for Christmas because it competes with my birthday. Thanksgiving is spent at the coast. (Nothing better than turkey on the beach) and Easter is spent in the mountains. I guess my favorite holiday is my husbands birthday. We celebrate the entire month of February and every year the decorations just get bigger and better. Even though we have Valentines Day and our anniversary in February I get more excited for my hubbys birthday. The kids help me decorate and the hubby gets to feel like a king for a month. <em>(as a bonus the decorations help with our bad moods when we do our taxes)</em></div><br />
<span style="color: #4c1130;"><strong>5. If you could travel anywhere in the world where would you go and why?</strong></span><br />
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I'd go just about anywhere. I would love to see the world. I want to take my husband and children with me and explore this great world. I guess a big place we want to go is Australia. I want to see the toilets flush backwards. Just kidding, it looks like such an amazing place. Sure I'd love to explore Europe and parts of Africa and South America, but Australia has so many different things that are only there, not to mention those men with their accents.<br />
<span style="color: #4c1130;"><strong>6. How would you describe your personal style?</strong></span><br />
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Is vintage rhinestone cowgirl chic a style? Depending on the day my style changes. If I'm in a mood its going to be something vintage and cute. If I'm having one of those days where the men in the house are out numbering me there isn't enough pink or bling in the world. I need to be feminine. Then we have my cowgirl attire, because I always have been and always will be a cowgirl at heart. But the fashion industry amazes me all the time and I love so many designs. Especially the shoes. If I could fill my house with shoes I would, but then I'd have no place for the purses that go with them.<br />
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<div><b><span style="color: #4c1130;">7. What do you keep in your Box of "It's Not Going to Work Out"? (Basically, what secrets do you keep from your significant other that may make you look a little bat shit crazy?)</span></b></div><br />
Oh where to begin. Actually I don't think I have too many secrets. I meet my hubby in a bar and married him 5 months later. Maybe that makes me a little crazy, but 9 years later were still going strong. I guess I'm a bit of a hoarder, but who isn't these days. Hasn't it become trendy? No? Oh well.<br />
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<strong><span style="color: #4c1130;">8. Tonight you can do anything without worry of cost... what would you do?</span></strong><br />
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Anything, did you really say anything? I'd would definitely not be grading pathetic attempts at college research papers. So I would love to go in and change some legislation in Sacramento so tomorrow I don't have to pay as much in my taxes and the taxes I do pay don't go to lazy ass people in the form of welfare. I'd do some serious damage shopping online. I love coming home to a box on the door step. Its like my birthday. Make a quick trip to Disneyland and cut in front of everyone in line...yes I really would, then end the day at a spa being pampered. Ok back to reality.<br />
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So I don't follow any other blogs to tag that haven't already been tagged....this means if your reading this and you don't have a blog you need to start one so I can read your answers.Melissa Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13223170707265595091noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246180089496293581.post-61813222433363596552011-03-10T07:12:00.000-08:002011-03-10T07:12:20.949-08:00One t.v. and two very confused kidsSo this morning when I woke up I just couldn't handle the constant fighting and arguing over what show the kids were going to watch on cartoon network on demand. My solution, stand in the kitchen pretending to make waffles while changing the channels with the other televisions cable remote. <br />
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I know its probably evil, but I couldn't help but standing there changing channels and laughing hysterically in my mind. The boys were so concerned that the t.v. wasn't working right. Every time the on demand screen popped up it was suddenly turn off. I know its wrong, but really for everything these kids put me through its the least I can do as a parent.<br />
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Just imagine it. The kids turn the on demand programing on and suddenly it turns off. Then the kids turn the on demand programing on and suddenly it turns off. The on demand stays on long enough for them to get to the kids programing and suddenly it turns off again. They got so frustrated they just turned the t.v. off and went to play.<br />
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Look I know its bad, but I gave up facebook, so I have to find something to entertain myself.Melissa Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13223170707265595091noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246180089496293581.post-27093688467454387222011-03-09T07:45:00.000-08:002011-03-11T22:23:47.486-08:00Facebook and LentSo I decided to give up Facebook for Lent. A whole 46 days without social networking. The time is now 7:40am of day one and I'm dying. The temptation to click on that little facebook icon to check my status and see what everyone else posted is driving me nuts! So now I have to come up with a list of things to do besides facebook.<br />
<br />
<ol><li>clean my house (yeah right)</li>
<li>do my homework (not likely)</li>
<li>grade papers (ugh, that does need to get done)</li>
<li>watch t.v. (there's nothing good on)</li>
<li>yard work (ummm, nope, that's the hubby's job)</li>
<li>read a book (my battery is dead on the nook)</li>
<li>internet shop ....hmmm I think we have a winner!</li>
</ol>So because facebook is now off limits I'm going to spend a small fortune online shopping for the next 46 days. I bet the hubby will love this!Melissa Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13223170707265595091noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246180089496293581.post-12380372379167737162011-03-08T22:39:00.000-08:002011-03-08T22:39:49.548-08:00Little ShitsSo today my son got in trouble because another kid stole something from someone elses desk and blamed it on him. HELLOOOOO son, for weeks I've been telling you this kid is a loser and you don't want to be around him. The little shit took my sons homework and put his name on it. Now my son is missing his homework and this little fuck got credit for his. <br />
<br />
That's not even the beginning. Today at baseball practice he decided to group up with two of the dumbest 8 year olds this world has ever seen. Who show up to play baseball in swim trunks and flip flops? (I'll give you a hint, these two morons.) So because he chose to practice with these dorks he ended up running laps for over half of practice because they were too busy screwing around.<br />
<br />
Grrrrrr. I told him today that if he keeps hanging out with losers he's going to end up doing drugs and spend time in jail. Then I told him if he went to jail I'd leave him there. To harsh? Maybe, but I'm so tired of him chosing to play with these little shits who's parents would rather buy their children off with toys and video games rather then be a parent and hold their child accountable for their actions.<br />
<br />
He has permission tomorrow to tell this kid at school to leave him alone and not come near him any more. If he gets in trouble for that his dad is going to go down to the school and have words with the principal. I'm not going to watch my 8 year old become one of those little shits people rant about on their blogs.Melissa Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13223170707265595091noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246180089496293581.post-2604436451838120262011-01-21T17:14:00.000-08:002011-01-21T17:14:08.931-08:00Amazon.douchebagsSo in case you can't guess by the title I'm more then a little upset with Amazon.com these days. Where to begin....hmmm<br />
<br />
Lets see how about the $360 worth of textbooks they supposedly lost. <br />
<br />
For those of you who aren't aware you can create your own store on Amazon and do business through them as a 3rd party. So as Christmas was approaching and I had an entire shelf of unneeded textbooks I looked into their textbook buy back program. Everything sounded wonderful, you submit an invoice of the books your going to send, print a prepaid postage slip and ship your books to the 3rd party company and then you get an Amazon.com gift card. Score...they pay much better then the community college book buy back so why not. <br />
<br />
Well after weeks go buy I find out that they gave me a gift card for 3 of my 20 shipped books and that they are returning books to me with a note regarding the reason they couldn't accept them. I get a box in the mail that's rather small (there's no way it can contain my other 17 books). I open it and its not even my books. They sent me someone else's books. To make a long story short Amazon says they can give me a promotional offer of $320 but I can only purchase stuff directly from Amazon. That's like the book store saying sure we'd love to buy your books, here's $320 in cash, but you can only spend it in our store.<br />
<br />
After 2 1/2 months of arguing and over 10 hours on the phone with customer service people in Kansas (AKA India) I have no choice but to accept the stupid promotional offer. So I'm swearing off Amazon once this voucher is spent. They can kiss my ass!<br />
<br />
But alas the story is not over. In late 2009 we purchased some Rosetta Stone software listed as new in the sealed box for $300. Well we never got around to using is because we had lives and learning Spanish really wasn't a priority. January 2011 rolls around and we've decided its time to use this software and learn to speak this stupid language before English becomes obsolete. Guess what, the software won't work. It lets us do a lesson and then asks for an activation code. There wasn't one in the box. So I try to contact the company that sold it to me through Amazon, but they don't exist. Next step contact Amazon directly. Guess where this has gotten me. No where. <br />
<br />
So the moral of the story is, if you want to be screwed sideways and upside down its cheaper to pick up a prostitute, because Amazon is going to charge you not only money but a lot of your valuable time.<br />
<br />
On a side note, if anyone has any suggestions on how I can get revenge on the douche bags please let me know.Melissa Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13223170707265595091noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246180089496293581.post-73480044438432351822011-01-11T22:31:00.000-08:002011-01-11T22:31:56.961-08:00OopsWell in case you haven't noticed I've been on vacation from my blog for about a year now. I promise that the new ranting and raving is about to begin. <br />
<br />
Hmmmm where to start....<br />
<br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGoeNi4lLVBEp88QBxwO0A3fX9undCOUK77w2RBslzdjIFWgLKsRkXQOhYqKSEBDdVKAo400TzHMV5JbU9hW3nISqXLsiIy6mKgSlp7gkRTFOGy3FYIjcLaLxjXzHJzrYdWfnSd4NzqNc/s1600/crosshair.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGoeNi4lLVBEp88QBxwO0A3fX9undCOUK77w2RBslzdjIFWgLKsRkXQOhYqKSEBDdVKAo400TzHMV5JbU9hW3nISqXLsiIy6mKgSlp7gkRTFOGy3FYIjcLaLxjXzHJzrYdWfnSd4NzqNc/s1600/crosshair.bmp" /></a>Well I could begin by putting some cross hairs on a map on my blog and see what the Democrats can blame on me. (I have the utmost sympathy and prayers for the victims of the senseless shooting in Arizona, but hardly think this is the platform for democrats to use to silence the republicans and tea party patriots of our country)</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">I could go on and on about the new ammunition laws that go into effect on February 1st in the state of California. Yep this ones great. If you want to buy ammunition prepare to have your fingerprint taken, your drivers license handy and voluntarily strip searched. (Ok they aren't strip searching anyone) But seriously your going to have to jump through hoops to legally purchase ammunition. Do you really think this is how the criminals are getting their bullets. Ummmm, NO. They get their rounds from the guy around the corner selling them out of the trunk of his car, not the local sporting good store. One thing is for certain, while our government continues to make it harder for honest and law abiding citizens to protect themselves the criminals will find it easier to arm themselves with illegal gun and ammunition purchases. They're all ready breaking the law, do you really think they're going to go to the store to get their weapons?</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">However, my favorite new topic this week is stupid parents. </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">I took my son to his basketball practice and while its painful for me to watch 6 year olds badly run back and forth across the court, I love him and he wants to play so I go. However I object to the fact that while I am sitting in a nasty public gym with all these boring people the parents of one particular child on my sons team are getting high. They leave their two other younger children to fend for themselves in the community center while their 7 year old is practicing and go out to their beat up shit box of a car and light one up. Are you kidding? You can't wait an hour to get stoned. They spend 15 minutes outside smoking and then when they come in I have to smell this foul marijuana stench on them. <br />
<br />
How do we solve this problem?</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">I have a great solution. (Ok not necessarily great, but it just might work) My husband and I actively remind our kids all the time that drugs are for poor stupid people. We watch movies and television and when someone on the program does something really dumb or goes to jail we tell the kids its because they did drugs. My children love to point out stupid people on drugs in television programs. Well this evening I told my son that he shouldn't play to much with a particular kid on his team because his parents do drugs. Now what 6 year old do you know who's going to keep this to himself? I guarantee that before the next practice my son tells everyone that there are parents who do drugs in the bleachers. Maybe they'll stop coming to practice and I wont have to see or smell them anymore. I feel bad for their son, but really lets face it, if his parents can't stay unhigh for an hour of basketball practice there's no amount of extra curricular activities that are going to keep this kid off drugs. </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">So as usual I'm the horrid witch who so lovingly pointed out the stoners on the basketball team, thus scaring their child forever and its my fault. Hmm wonder if these crazy left wing lunatics will blame another youth drug abuser on me? </div>Melissa Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13223170707265595091noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246180089496293581.post-72103332811930283292010-02-10T19:17:00.000-08:002010-02-10T19:17:00.611-08:00How to Pay Your Bills With Food Stamps<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_vt9Hh0klLtKyKHQ46kNXhRMHeopE4XBoOdvFzAidsMVFhTay_yy-Govphhyky2S14m6Kdj4cQQ4IL-ODQ7TYsT7P09iuBdb4Q2IFx0r-_-yZrnKVyMUBnjfRlW9lgsCu14iTww-dfiM/s1600-h/food_stamps.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" kt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_vt9Hh0klLtKyKHQ46kNXhRMHeopE4XBoOdvFzAidsMVFhTay_yy-Govphhyky2S14m6Kdj4cQQ4IL-ODQ7TYsT7P09iuBdb4Q2IFx0r-_-yZrnKVyMUBnjfRlW9lgsCu14iTww-dfiM/s320/food_stamps.jpg" /></a></div>Yep, the economic situation this country is in has definitley brought more families into dependence on the government for their food supply and other needs. Really, I'm serious, so many more people are relying on food stamps to assist them in getting by. There's over 36 Million people in this country who rely on food stamps. Let me repeat that.....36 MILLION PEOPLE....Holy shit. Funny thing about those little government assisted food payment devices, they're not stamps any more, they're a little card just like your ATM or credit cards. So tell me why do we call them food stamps? So let me ask you, when was the last time you were asked to show your id when you used your credit card or ATM for groceries? <br />
<br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNDeHYCwTW4z4CmvqBcpcEgPzoY0nleuqJnWMtVOnhxDtzWJnRFslIe9o0wKFPAYqB761iCcmlRAK9QrJgUkCuSjdTleAbGRR69-XfZy92A1HX3MD6zjXNzMNKScfnls7VJ4fQdvtoCpM/s1600-h/pink+snowballs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" kt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNDeHYCwTW4z4CmvqBcpcEgPzoY0nleuqJnWMtVOnhxDtzWJnRFslIe9o0wKFPAYqB761iCcmlRAK9QrJgUkCuSjdTleAbGRR69-XfZy92A1HX3MD6zjXNzMNKScfnls7VJ4fQdvtoCpM/s200/pink+snowballs.jpg" width="200" /></a>This takes me to today's rant...If I have $200 on my "Food Stamp" card and I owe you $70 for something or I need to buy some beer I'll use my food stamps. I just give you my card and pin number and you can go buy $70 worth of groceries and either cancel my debt or give me $70. No one knows except you and me that I'm paying off my debts or spending government assistance on beer or drugs. It's great, I'm living the American Dream off your back and tax dollars. How about we make them show their id to use their food stamps card. Oh and while we're at it, make them buy healthy food so I can quit paying for their diabetes with tax payer funded healthcare. Since when is Pepsi, Doritos and pink snowballs a well balanced meal?</div><br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Not everyone gives their food stamps to others to pay for things. If you live in California you've at some point been approached by someone with broken English trying to sell you tamales in a parking lot out of the back of their car. Just what I want. Some homemade tamales (they bought the ingredients with their food stamps, or someone elses) that have been sitting in the back of your car for the last 5 hours while you harass everyone in the store as they go in and come out. </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Listen to me Mr. President....QUIT wasting my Fucking tax dollars on useless fucks! I guess I shouldn't be surprised that you're wasting my money on useless people, I pay your salary don't I. As one of your many bosses and in the words of Mr. Trump.....YOUR FIRED!</div>Melissa Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13223170707265595091noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246180089496293581.post-59118407202847532002010-02-09T09:09:00.000-08:002010-02-09T09:09:20.011-08:00Stupid People<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT2F63hjdS5T2VFucF4adgVlq7mdyZm0mJ1SgqlBEDn-F2ovmpkTmfn6LrHO9faffbE5usH4MeFvSfSuiQNv-Xrg-b5C88kBLMoS1H2Wn-PRK-9BPCNb9qbFA_4Ke6Roo470zW5cGW4aA/s1600-h/Stupid+People.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" kt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT2F63hjdS5T2VFucF4adgVlq7mdyZm0mJ1SgqlBEDn-F2ovmpkTmfn6LrHO9faffbE5usH4MeFvSfSuiQNv-Xrg-b5C88kBLMoS1H2Wn-PRK-9BPCNb9qbFA_4Ke6Roo470zW5cGW4aA/s200/Stupid+People.jpg" width="200" /></a>Have you ever worked with one of those people who is absolutly stupid? And I mean STUPID! I have, and luckily I left that branch and thought I didn't have to work with them anymore. Guess what, I was WRONG, and unfortunatley I have the pleasure of receiving emails daily from this moron asking me the same question, just worded differently. Can I ignore and blow it off? Nope, still work for the same company so I have to help her. It irritates me so much that I have to do this dip shits job and my own. Shit, fire her dumb ass and give me her paycheck if I'm gonna do her job. I've never meet someone so inept at doing their job. Not only is this chick an absolute dumb ass, but she's a fat dumb ass. Yep, just proving my point that there really is not room in the work force for fat, lazy, stupid people. For that matter there's no room on the planet for these obese retards! (I feel bad comparing people who are actually retarded with this loser!) But seriously, if your too stupid to do your job, you obviously don't deserve it. If you can't work your going to rely on the government and welfare to take care of you. Yep, I'm still doing all the work and your sitting on your stupid, lazy, fat ass! Yep, no place for you on Earth, try Netpune, and leave those of us who are competent and capable of doing our job alone. </div>Melissa Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13223170707265595091noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246180089496293581.post-58920657445950219792010-02-05T09:41:00.000-08:002010-02-05T09:45:29.982-08:00Bikinis and coffee<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2Qsh4hnWycA7CaVSjDDRPPX-DuXrrpAoaOvlRkTtkwMZYSzGI-TFff58YXxsJRSt92gTY7T5nvhjx1hmgu05u3i5ekEUUkKSaXnT8PjSgN4geSShPP29ZbgLvb73edyZff7GVNKUoVi0/s1600-h/hooters-waitresses-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" kt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2Qsh4hnWycA7CaVSjDDRPPX-DuXrrpAoaOvlRkTtkwMZYSzGI-TFff58YXxsJRSt92gTY7T5nvhjx1hmgu05u3i5ekEUUkKSaXnT8PjSgN4geSShPP29ZbgLvb73edyZff7GVNKUoVi0/s200/hooters-waitresses-1.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">So I was perusing the headlines on FoxNews.com this morning and came across a "tit"ilizing story. Many people have partaken in that wonderful eating establishment we know for its owl with the big eyes, yep that's right, HOOTERS. What wife, mother or girlfriend likes this so called restaurant? Can't think of any. I guess if you really look at it, its just girls wearing really short shorts and skin tight shirts with huge boobs serving over priced stale beer and mediocre hot wings. Well they're not running around in pasties and a thong.</div><br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOhs-pIP4hl3ndQtYuO-QGs_6x4EWnbjZunnQoJXsHCAYEdBjzL_kU6MbEE4iqPOrlDVjx8d0y1WJW5az-8ae23KqcEybkToAjsLu3pz0CjNNcs5esTSMI1iAtu5jRyseIDyDNHUxTddw/s1600-h/coffee.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" kt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOhs-pIP4hl3ndQtYuO-QGs_6x4EWnbjZunnQoJXsHCAYEdBjzL_kU6MbEE4iqPOrlDVjx8d0y1WJW5az-8ae23KqcEybkToAjsLu3pz0CjNNcs5esTSMI1iAtu5jRyseIDyDNHUxTddw/s200/coffee.jpg" width="200" /></a>Which takes me to back to that news article from Fox News. Apparently that little known corporation Starbucks is making it really hard for mom and pop coffee houses to break into that mocha market in Washington and Oregon state. Solution, have the girls making and serving the coffee in a bikini. Hmmmm, steaming hot coffee and exposed bare flesh, yep not applying for that job. But seriously, if you read the article it tells about these bikini clad women who aren't really wearing a bikini, but instead more like pasties and crotchless thongs, while performing lewd acts for customers with the whip cream. Glad I always order my mocha with no whip, can you say herpes? Anyway, I'm all for the bikini coffee houses, what are you shocked? How else are these homegrown coffee houses going to compete with the Starbucks next door and across the street? Let just keep it to a bikini and no naughty stuff while making my drink.....oh yeah and if my husband starts suddenly drinking coffee after this there will be a problem!</div><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,584927,00.html?test=latestnews">Read Fox News Story</a></div>Melissa Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13223170707265595091noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246180089496293581.post-46175607591277542192010-02-04T15:29:00.001-08:002010-02-04T15:29:55.152-08:00My Tax DollarsWell, were getting to that time of year again. Many of us are anxiously looking forward to tax refunds and have already spent them 10 different ways. Me, not looking forward to tax time. I know its hard to believe right. But seriously, every year we end up having to pay taxes to either the state or the feds. I really wouldn't be so upset by this, but in case you don't know I live in the wonderful welfare state of California. That's right, the state where they take my hard earned money and give it to some lazy SOB so they can have a good quality of life. Excuse me but when did your sorry ass become too incompetent to get a job. Just the other day I saw a help wanted sign at Taco Bell, get off your fat ass and go get a job. Start contributing to society instead of sucking us dry. I made the mistake of going to the grocery store on Monday. Why is that a mistake you might ask, well Monday was the 1st of the month (the same day the government gives everyone all my tax money in the form of welfare checks.) Every lazy lowlife in town was at the grocery store stocking up on chips, frozen pizza, hohos and Pepsi. Great, can you say diabetes? I can, but hey why should they worry? They also happen to have great state funded health care paid for with my tax dollars. I mean seriously, do you know what a zucchini looks like? (Only when its deep fried from Carls Jr.) Yep, I'm really dreading tax time, because I know it means some fat, lazy ass loser is going to get more of my money so they can spend it on shit they don't deserve.Melissa Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13223170707265595091noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246180089496293581.post-23082151422263483482009-12-08T10:54:00.000-08:002009-12-08T11:11:11.613-08:00Driving like a soccer mom<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic2_AEr2a6DvhB7m070QJvMN-xAvbvncEBrDZaq1w7nreQR0jmxcymuJ7_FA8JTWnYTy3eWa9XzpC7PweCsufrn_7_xmku6LwKtVZsWwF0kfB5lkctiTHG-KvkzHIKyvjndONQLAu0efw/s1600-h/soccer_mom1%5B1%5D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" er="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic2_AEr2a6DvhB7m070QJvMN-xAvbvncEBrDZaq1w7nreQR0jmxcymuJ7_FA8JTWnYTy3eWa9XzpC7PweCsufrn_7_xmku6LwKtVZsWwF0kfB5lkctiTHG-KvkzHIKyvjndONQLAu0efw/s200/soccer_mom1%5B1%5D.jpg" /></a><br />
</div>Definition of a Soccer mom: (noun) An American mother living in the suburbs whose time is often spent transporting her children from one athletic activity or event to another.<br />
<br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Yep, that sounds about right. I am that soccer mom. Back in the 90's soccer moms drove their mini-vans from one practice to the next like the devil was chasing them. Times have changed a little as the years have gone by. Soccer moms no longer drive mini-vans, those have been reserved for hip grandparents who aren't ready to settle down and buy that Buick. Soccer moms of today drive huge gas guzzling SUV's, yes even those hybrid variations. Why? Because they are so way cooler then a minivan and they're huge. You can seriously mow down a small community of lawn gnomes in one of those things. And they'll still hold half the soccer team, the dry cleaning, a weeks worth of groceries and the golden retriever. So they better question is why wouldn't you want one?<br />
</div></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0FjzwYgIJXP4q2tRzOs1VCrsD1OWinRk_2fF-YNmxs5yzro5Jjpiu2mX9a5lwwr0ysckAtxPUDnSAelNOhokvbzq9QIngJlSpwZBEmUaK1oyvqp15q0kfNS2LQPGGvV3D5vk3s2evZSc/s1600-h/draft_lens1523267module8685590photo_792px-7_garden_gnomes%5B1%5D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" er="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0FjzwYgIJXP4q2tRzOs1VCrsD1OWinRk_2fF-YNmxs5yzro5Jjpiu2mX9a5lwwr0ysckAtxPUDnSAelNOhokvbzq9QIngJlSpwZBEmUaK1oyvqp15q0kfNS2LQPGGvV3D5vk3s2evZSc/s200/draft_lens1523267module8685590photo_792px-7_garden_gnomes%5B1%5D.jpg" /></a>Anyway to get back on track: As I'm doing about 95 down the highway passing compact cars and semi-trucks it hits me, I'm such an awesome driver. I mean seriously, who else beside a soccer mom can make it across town with two kids who are changing into practice gear, pick up everything for a nice home cooked dinner and get the dog from the groomers in under 10 minutes? Again, I am so totally awesome. I should start a driving school for other moms who are needing to learn the skills of a trained soccer mom.<br />
</div></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">There could be such a variety of different classes<br />
</div><ul><li><br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Driving 101<br />
</div><br />
</li>
</ul><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"> This class would be just beginning basics. You know how to push that skinny little pedal through the floor board to maximize your speed. Maybe have some cardboard cutout of children in the middle of the street for those times you need to swerve as you going 60 through a residential area. And of course that basic parallel park using the emergency brake at high speeds.<br />
</div><ul><li><br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Multitasking on the freeway<br />
</div><br />
</li>
</ul><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Most men don't realize the skill it takes to drive a car with more then one screaming child in the backseat, while you apply makeup, adjust the volume of the stereo to drown out the kids, and not get caught on your cell phone calling your girlfriends to make sure your on for happy hour because the dog ate your blue tooth again. This class would help so many women out there who just don't make the best use of their time while driving.<br />
</div><ul><li><br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">3 kids and 3 practices<br />
</div><br />
</li>
</ul><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">An easy class showing beginning moms how to get all of their children and any tag alongs to ballet, soccer and karate at the three different locations with the crazy practice schedule intact. <br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Ballet starts at 3pm and ends at 4pm, Soccer starts at 3pm and ends at 4:30pm and Karate starts at 4:15pm and ends at 4:45pm. This class would show those new moms how to maximize time and have all the kids at practice not to early and god forbid, they be the last ones picked up.<br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><ul><li><br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Getting the most use of your SUV's storage space <br />
</div><br />
</li>
</ul><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4KqoK_p5u_t5WHUynaNDGMe0UX8AWvUHRWLk1HDzMBB2mwnFi2YN45W1OyG9BQXlb_ZZRKoiTl9eI3Ec2BiVgqdQCUpEoBXaJP0XoHAVOtWEjnv8SuJMig74oruiCd67p_RlpB_4xKfI/s1600-h/car.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" er="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4KqoK_p5u_t5WHUynaNDGMe0UX8AWvUHRWLk1HDzMBB2mwnFi2YN45W1OyG9BQXlb_ZZRKoiTl9eI3Ec2BiVgqdQCUpEoBXaJP0XoHAVOtWEjnv8SuJMig74oruiCd67p_RlpB_4xKfI/s200/car.bmp" /></a><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">There is a reason we bought that beautiful 13mpg SUV. (Contrary to what the neighbors think, it isn't because Karen down the street got one first) Those things hold so much, if you know how to pack them, and that's without the roof rack. This class could focus on how you get the kids and all their sports gear in the car, along with your latest purchase from Costco and the fighting issue is not an issue at all, because everyone has enough space and no one is touching the other.<br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><br />
Yep, bet I could make a fortune teaching other moms how to truly be that soccer mom. <br />
<br />
For this family soccer season ended about a month ago, I still have those soccer mom instincts on the highway. And were getting ready to start indoor soccer in March. After the holidays there will be more then soccer to worry about. The boys are going to start music lessons, T-ball, football, Kung-fu (again) and of course soccer season officially starts in the fall. In all that down time I have while driving, I think I'm gonna start working on a business plan for a soccer mom driving academy, after all, I am a totally awesome driver!(Just ask my insurance agent)<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.glitterfy.com/" target="_blank"><img border="0" src="http://img10.glitterfy.com/graphics/182/soccer_moms.gif" /><br />
Glitterfy.com - Glitter Graphics</a>Melissa Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13223170707265595091noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246180089496293581.post-7728161412419075392009-12-03T09:14:00.000-08:002011-03-14T22:14:42.020-07:00Working for a livingI know that to some its a novel concept, this whole doing an honest days work for an honest days pay thing. But is it really that bad? I mean really? If you can find a job you enjoy going to everyday, and you don't have to work with a bunch of brown nosing, backstabbing, selfish jerks it can actually be a nice part of the day. So why, why is it so hard for some people to do this? Instead they opt to find someone with the financial means to support them and their laziness. Now I'm not saying lazy is bad sometimes, hell most weekends I live in my sweats and never feel the breeze from outside. Its those who feel the world owes them and everyday they shouldn't have to do anything.<br />
<br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">The world owes you for what? Your crappy childhood? The stress of aging parents? The stress of being a parent? I'm sorry, but those are the worst excuses I have ever heard! And just what does the world owe you might I ask? A new plasma tv, diamonds and rubies, a Hummer, ohh I know an all expense paid trip to Hawaii. News flash people your not owed any of this. </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWVMuhwUECgCLzkdxoMTeU_47uJ6vGZPW7WCC9QiG_gnCsiDCXCnknWlyGHKK7bHHHW8GbDD0pGkPn2gp36LBcqD07M0_4YO0bLd1iPowqvwywZVO4flUL_0-_2qNKwzPHkB5ehKt7wJM/s1600-h/26606b0403bdebfa%5B1%5D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" er="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWVMuhwUECgCLzkdxoMTeU_47uJ6vGZPW7WCC9QiG_gnCsiDCXCnknWlyGHKK7bHHHW8GbDD0pGkPn2gp36LBcqD07M0_4YO0bLd1iPowqvwywZVO4flUL_0-_2qNKwzPHkB5ehKt7wJM/s320/26606b0403bdebfa%5B1%5D.jpg" /></a>Sure there are some people who are born into wealth, but somewhere at the beginning someone had that work ethic that earned that pile of cash you are so greedily spending. And because you were "entitled that cash and the world owed you so much" your not working to keep the pile high, instead your spending it faster than Obama is spending my tax dollars. Your kids are going to have to pay for your retirement out of their minimum wage. After all you set such a good example they're not going to get a real job, because money comes from that tree in the back yard. Hope you like spending your senile years in that crooked home they're always showing on 60 minutes. You know the one where they feed everyone Alpo for dinner, because they can.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">I live in a little tiny house, and I work everyday. Well I sort of work every day, that is to say I have a job, but somedays I just show up. Back to my original train of thought. I live in a little house with my husband and two children. We have 2 cars that are paid for and my husband also works. I know what a shock right. Seriously we can afford a bigger house, newer cars, cable tv and luxury vacations, but then there's no money for me to frivolously spend at Walmart. Yesterday I received $3000.00 in the mail. Yep that's right I got 2 checks for $1500.00 and change. Did I race of to cash them? Nope! The money isn't mine and it didn't belong to the person who gave it to me. It came from a bank account of a crook who was trying to scam me. I know everyone is thinking, Christmas is only 21 days away, what great timing. Nope, I don't think so. God is watching and if I cash those checks I'll be playing chess with Hitler and the person who sent them to me in the afterlife.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Here's the reality</div><ul><li><br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">If its not yours don't touch it</div></li>
<li><br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQFL_jKY8BqsXbbLdgy6wlT2p4_x7l6y3g4j160hzmg-6faZHb8-iu6OKHdwEKyGWNQyIIfSO1OgIgy8jgFfIWVhw4pxEapPx8E0BAkR86zPDEB8h_h28GU-wShmDCOmhyphenhyphenNDqytqZUY10/s1600-h/hell.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" er="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQFL_jKY8BqsXbbLdgy6wlT2p4_x7l6y3g4j160hzmg-6faZHb8-iu6OKHdwEKyGWNQyIIfSO1OgIgy8jgFfIWVhw4pxEapPx8E0BAkR86zPDEB8h_h28GU-wShmDCOmhyphenhyphenNDqytqZUY10/s200/hell.jpg" /></a>If its not yours don't give it to someone else</div></li>
<li><br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">If you work hard and earn it, it feels so much better </div></li>
<li><br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Contrary to popular belief there is not get out of hell free card so make smart decisions</div></li>
</ul><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">I don't want to sound mean or negative (oh who am I kidding, if you know me, you know I'm mean), but really if your too lazy to get off your fat ass and do an honest days work, or at least show up to a job, do you really deserve to share the air I'm breathing. NO you don't. You don't deserve anything. Get off your lazy ass, get a job and earn the right to live here and breath the same air as me. Earn the right to complain about others and the obstacles life throws at you. If you can't do something as simple as get a job, do the world a favor and get a shotgun, take your shoe off, and insert your toe in the trigger.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div>Melissa Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13223170707265595091noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246180089496293581.post-50766307111311609982009-12-02T11:48:00.000-08:002009-12-02T11:48:45.429-08:00Kids and JacketsSo Sunday afternoon the kids wanted to go play in the backyard, and of course that's fine with me. Finally some peace and quiet. Now I know I don't live in Northern Michigan or Maine or anything, just the armpit of Central California. The temperature was a balmy 40 something degrees so I told both my kids to wear their jackets and keep them on. Now if you have children, have babysat children or observed someone elses children from a distance you know right away that didn't happen. My 5 year old got hot and took off his brandnew jacket and threw it in the dirt. No big deal, last year I spent alot of the husbands money on a kickass washer and dryer, I know the jacket can be washed. Infact I was shocked the jacket lasted as long as it did, but I wasn't expecting to go out back and find my 5 year old running around in a short sleeve shirt with no shoes in 40ish weather. And what was his reason you ask for taking off his shoes? He knows that I get upset when they jump in water puddles with their $45 sketchers, so instead he was jumping in the puddles barefoot. <br />
I did mention that the puddles were created by my 7 year old right. He thought it might be fun to make ponds for their toys to float in. <br />
<br />
So here's my new thought with regard to unsupervised children in their own backyard.<br />
<br />
Next time I send the boys out back to play I am first sewing the zipper up on the jackets and then sewing the bottom of the jacket to their pants so they can't pull them over their heads. To avoid the shoe problem I'm really not sure what to do. I could go and get them some punk boots, I mean seriously, with all those zippers and buckles they'd never get them off. Of course now that I've said that they probably will, so instead its a pair of cheap-o Walmart shoes wrapped in duct tape up to their knees. Good luck getting those suckers off now, and do I care if they get wet in the puddles? Nope the shoes and duct tape only cost $5 (I got them at Walmart). <br />
<br />
I know some of you are thinking just go out back and watch them play, but seriously that's not gonna happen. Why do you think we bought a house with a backyard? Its not like I'm letting them play in traffic. Now that the chickens are gone (its a sad story, please don't make me tell it) there's really no dangers in the back yard so they can play all they want with no worries. The only danger is the dangers they pose to themselves by taking off their clothes and me finding out!Melissa Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13223170707265595091noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246180089496293581.post-44554480321602794462009-12-01T11:20:00.000-08:002011-03-14T22:11:19.465-07:00Letters from Benny<div>Every Friday I receive a wonderful letter from my Stepfather (Benny) to kick off the weekend. They are full of wonderful information that you can use in everyday life and conversations. The following are unedited excerpts from letters sent by Benny. While many parts might seem slightly confusing, remember that I have 5 chickens, 2 boys and a husband.<br />
<br />
Excerpt from email sent January 9th, 2009 (Names have been changed to protect the guilty)<br />
<br />
<em>Let's just begin by saying I hope you celebrated Friday in a style that was fun, full of frollic and...well, I can't use that type of language with my kids.<br />
<br />
I realize that today wasn't much to you, just another day at work, commuting in traffic, get the kids fed and off to bed, and the other mundane things that life brings. Which pair of scrubs to wear? Does this saddle make my donkey look fat? If I get the large diet coke, can I super size my fries? Did I really put that new hot red sweater in with the whites? Will Tom wear pink undies? Shrunken, does that sweater fit even better? Well, would Tom think it fits better?<br />
<br />
Well, Ivan missed you today. I asked, and he tells me that you didn't so much as respond to the invitation, much less send the RSVP! What gives? No slightly extravagant gift? No little something (think bling) that shows your appreciation for all the blood, sweat and tears I've shed over you? No treats for the dogs? No second hand card, suitable to be sent to anyone I know named "Ramon"? No singing of the theme song to that masterpiece of the cinema arts "TGIF"? Not even a phone call? You could have phoned, if nothing else and just breathed deep and heavy into the phone. After all, it is Friday! And what's a little suggestive breathing on the phone on a Friday afternoon? Around here we call that "normal". </em><br />
<br />
Excerpt from July 2, 2009 email<br />
<br />
<em>My Dearest Melissa, Chickens and assorted others who might read this.<br />
<br />
This is absolutely appropriate for today.<br />
<br />
Today is "Stay Out Of The Sun Day".<br />
<br />
Really. You think I could make this stuff up?<br />
<br />
I mean, honestly, who could come up with "Stay Out Of The Sun Day"?<br />
<br />
But, don't you think it really should be held on a Sunday?<br />
<br />
So, gather all the chickens and herd them all inside. Put 'em in the garage with that Screaming Yellow Zonker Corvette you're hiding from the local Fuzz. Wait minute, let me rethink that. Chickens are not known for being the quietest creatures around. Sorta like Frat boys at a bikini contest. Put them in the garage where you're hiding the car is a sure way to get busted.....<br />
I know! Put the chickens in the garage, let them party like it's 1999. That'll distract the Fuzz. Then move the Corvette inside. Say, in your bedroom. The Fuzz'll never think of looking for the car in there!<br />
Explain to Tom that it's cheaper to put the car in your bedroom for a few months than it is to pay those pesky storage fees down at the county impound.<br />
Then explain to Tom in a sultry voice, how you plan on marking the 64th Anniversary of the Bikini on Sunday. Do that right, and he'll not only forget about the fact the chickens have invited the neighborhood Chihuahuas over thinking they're a small time mariachi band, he won't even mind the music when they start to play!</em><br />
<br />
Excerpt from September 3, 2009 email<br />
<br />
<em>September is National Chicken Month!<br />
<br />
WOO HOO!<br />
<br />
I knew you could do this.<br />
<br />
It's also National Rice Month.<br />
<br />
Mmmm......chicken and rice.....that sounds good....<br />
<br />
*ahem* excuse me, lost my train of thought there....<br />
<br />
It's also "Library Card Sign Up Month"<br />
<br />
National Courtesy Month<br />
<br />
and National Honey Month.<br />
<br />
Now me? I'm off to the Library to politely ask for a cookbook so I can find a recipe for some honey glazed chicken and rice!<br />
<br />
So, sashay into the backyard when you get home and let the Ladies know that this is their month! And this is your Friday!</em><br />
<br />
Excerpt from October 22, 2009 email<br />
<br />
<em>My Dearest Melissa,<br />
<br />
Well, your Momma has climbed K2, the worlds second tallest bed. Only Mount Everest is higher. And this will be proven in the coming weeks as the new box springs she talks about arrive and we slip them under the mattress.<br />
Which brings up a suggestion for an appropriate Christmas present for her: a foot stool. She needs one to get into the bed. It's that high.<br />
We have a sleigh bed, with matching foot and headboards. You can see the footboard, from the door. And most if not all of the mattress above the footboard. There is no way you can see the footboard from the bed itself. As a matter of fact, when I tried out the bed, I got off it by sliding over the footboard, cleared it like an Olympic high jumper.<br />
As for the headboard. You can see it from the door. If there are no pillows on the bed. One pillow, and we're talking throw pillow here folks, and the headboard disappears. Seriously, you can't see it.<br />
In the old house, the bedside table was an inch or so higher than the top of the mattress. Here it's a good six inches below the mattress.<br />
The bed is belly button height on your Momma.<br />
Landon would have a hard time seeing over the bed. Willow thinks twice before attempting to jump up on it. Heck, your Momma thinks twice before getting in it. Fall out of it and you'll run the risk of serious injury!<br />
Brings a literal meaning to the term "go climb into bed."<br />
<br />
About your truck...come and get it.<br />
<br />
I went out on Tuesday to get in it and head to the other house to get boxes and keep on moving. It had other ideas. I do believe the clutch has decided it don't want to work any more. Which puts it just a half step behind the Volvo, which will go into gear, it just would prefer to fight you on every shift.<br />
I'm getting an automatic in my next car. I'm old, I'm cranky, I don't want to fool around with putting in clutches and adjusting them anymore.<br />
Just let me know when you're coming, I'll get the freezer in the back of the truck for you so you can take it all at once! Heck, we'll even throw in a cinder block or twelve to put it up on. You know, to give the place that proper red dirt road down the hollar ambiance. You have to supply your own stained toilet as a planter. </em><br />
<br />
This just a small sample of his handy work. I really think his letters should be published in a book. I think it should be titled <strong>"Letters to the Chickens"</strong><br />
I know this isn't my usual rambling, but I have enjoyed all of Benny's letters and think the rest of the world deserves to enjoy his random babbling. </div>Melissa Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13223170707265595091noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246180089496293581.post-91687471352024706032009-12-01T08:54:00.000-08:002009-12-01T10:59:12.548-08:00Christmas GiftsSo with Christmas a mere 24 days away I thought it time I begin my letter to Santa(Yep Hubby this means you!)
<br />
<br />Dear Santa, I have been a very good girl this year, only spending your money on truly necessary items. (You know that I couldn't live without those Prada boots) I haven't used many swear words (when talking about you) in my conversation and I even let you watch football on your 52" TV instead of Lifetime movies most Sundays. The house was clean that one week we weren't home and I only left the kids in the backyard unattended those six times. In light of my good behavior I think I deserve some great presents.
<br />
<br />I know there's been a great PSA this year about PAP Smears, but really I don't need one for Christmas, you gave me one for our anniversary, remember?
<br /><object width="560" height="340"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/MkuI4oU250s&hl=en_US&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/MkuI4oU250s&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="560" height="340"></embed></object>
<br />Instead can I have that diamond studded bra we saw in the Victoria Secret catalogue, you know which one I'm talking about. I don't need the matching panties, I think the studs might cause chaffing.
<br />Also since I've been sooo good this year I think I deserve a full length cashmere bathrobe. I know its a little impractical, but I've been really good. Besides you really need to make up for Christmas 2003. You remember, the year you gave me a laser hair removal gift certificate. Yeah that went over about as well as a fart in a whirl wind, when we got married you knew I preferred the European look, but because I love you so much I went and had those little hairs from you know where removed. I was wondering what Ken was getting Barbie and then I remembered that there's really nothing he can get her, she has it all. I don't want it all, just most. So to make it easier I have included a list of things that I "DON'T" want this year or any other.
<br />
<br />1. Squirrel feet earrings (even if you shot the squirrel yourself, I don't need the memory) <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaI4sfcEDn5CtMszuIT95d-OWfpdUPqKbrwZKrAf_Fg66A_bSChziy35uHQkm84jcjg_TqKOc6VxzEVAm8J5UEV_b-5gSWi1opxnagK8QG9DWhP0Fmyz-IQjXan4QteheBcz2SJvdn7IY/s1600/feet%2520earrings.img_assist_custom%5B1%5D.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaI4sfcEDn5CtMszuIT95d-OWfpdUPqKbrwZKrAf_Fg66A_bSChziy35uHQkm84jcjg_TqKOc6VxzEVAm8J5UEV_b-5gSWi1opxnagK8QG9DWhP0Fmyz-IQjXan4QteheBcz2SJvdn7IY/s200/feet%2520earrings.img_assist_custom%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410341620212510946" /></a>
<br />2. A new vacuum
<br />3. Tickets to a Raiders game
<br />4. A gym membership
<br />5. New mattress
<br />6. Flannel Pajamas
<br />7. Cookbooks (if you don't like my cooking quit asking me for dinner)
<br />8. Riding lawnmower
<br />9. The clapper, Chia pets, or anything else that might have been endorsed by Billy Mayes (may he rest in peace)
<br />10. Something you think your mom would love
<br />
<br />
<br />Should you feel the need to purchase any of the above items as Christmas gifts please include a new Remington 1100 shotgun and a bulletproof vest for yourself.
<br />
<br />Sincerely,
<br />Your well behaved and much deserving wifeMelissa Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13223170707265595091noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246180089496293581.post-9296153241605839452009-11-30T15:46:00.000-08:002009-11-30T16:49:44.117-08:00Hollywood HolidaysOk, so we've all watched those stupid and sappy holiday movies where the dad is in a hideous sweater standing at the head of the table getting ready to carve the perfect turkey and thanking their family for being there, while a gentle snowfall is seen out the window behind him.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeD3yvfThv9Dq_7iXI2WldjokZrZyfthc5CWd5Cf7WWLGI1GgkV3i6CydiGJSBp98bf-aaTvQWWXHncHAd-alkG1vy9i3Gmk8b3qOTyqN6cJ0U_on_n-Hp8RdEeCOqYsitejkPdSuMIzU/s1600/dinner0912_468x669%5B1%5D.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 140px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeD3yvfThv9Dq_7iXI2WldjokZrZyfthc5CWd5Cf7WWLGI1GgkV3i6CydiGJSBp98bf-aaTvQWWXHncHAd-alkG1vy9i3Gmk8b3qOTyqN6cJ0U_on_n-Hp8RdEeCOqYsitejkPdSuMIzU/s200/dinner0912_468x669%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410056685708974866" /></a><br /><br />Reality check people. Its not all perfect turkey and happy family. In fact I think sometimes the holidays would be better if there were no family. For instance this year instead of making that dreaded journey to my mother-in-laws or my husband's mother-in-laws (yep, this is you mom) we skipped all the family fanfair and left town. Not only did we leave town, but we went to an area where Ugly holiday sweaters are illegal! Oh and that light dusting of snow outside the window didn't exhist either. Let me tell you how much more fun the holidays are if you boycot that whole Hollywood facade. <br /><br />Try going to Marie Callendars for their turkey dinner. Sure its $20 a person, but you don't have to fight that little white haired lady in the bakery for the last marble rye, you don't have to spend hours cleaning your house before your family showes up, and there's not cleaning when everyone leaves. (They have a bus boy for the cleanup) You just order your dinner and then leave a nice tip on the table before you leave. Hell they'll give you dessert to go if you ask nicely. <br /><br />Well what do you do when dinner is done. You don't have to fight Uncle Bob for a place to crash on the couch. There's no family traditions because you left all of that and them back home.<br /><br />Here's the real holiday in easy steps:<br /><br />1. Get hotel room reservations and tell no one in the family where you are going. If anyone asks tell them your thinking of cooking dinner at your house this year, but you need to check with your husband first<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOtugrMSBoYf5tQXrdKK5EqT-IyCgEkDg_MMjxmlkEgd4JWyIWMFj68R3_XxAnXojWmeajhK3Hm9W67s8Dh2KTGsuE_zuLYKMgHyqFnD-FpXzwiglYKrZSsjU_p3P99EOc_aZ3Ezeai4U/s1600/lens6780682_1251870963beach-christmas-cards-sm%5B1%5D.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOtugrMSBoYf5tQXrdKK5EqT-IyCgEkDg_MMjxmlkEgd4JWyIWMFj68R3_XxAnXojWmeajhK3Hm9W67s8Dh2KTGsuE_zuLYKMgHyqFnD-FpXzwiglYKrZSsjU_p3P99EOc_aZ3Ezeai4U/s320/lens6780682_1251870963beach-christmas-cards-sm%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410063376298525970" /></a><br /><br />2. Call Marie Callendars and get a reservation. (Seriously, your not the only one avoiding the whole Hollywood Holiday and that place fills up fast)<br /><br />3. Pack your suitcase. (Leave the ugly sweaters at home, remember they are illegal)<br /><br />4. Bring a swimsuit and beach towels.<br /><br />5. Sneak out of town at 5 a.m. when none of your family members will suspect your departure<br /><br />6. Oops, you seem to have forgot your cell phone. (Unless you want to send pictures to all the suckers at home having that Hollywood Holiday)<br /><br />7. When you return and your family wants to know why you disappeared, tell them it was a last minute decision.<br /><br />But seriously if you had the choice between sitting at the kids table and spending the holiday with 20 of your closest family members and that poor single girl who works with your Aunt Mildred or sitting on the beach watching waves crash in a skimpy two piece bikini, watching that hunk of a man you get to sleep with tonight, which would you choose?<br /><br />Hmmm, I wonder.Melissa Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13223170707265595091noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246180089496293581.post-37075461389088819722009-11-23T09:11:00.000-08:002009-11-25T11:10:40.271-08:00Reverse RacismI must start this little note with some background knowledge for the reader. Back in March of 2009 my son's preschool thought it would be a great idea to hatch some chickens from eggs. Long story short they moved in with us. I have spent the last 9 months raising these chickens. It started out really simple. Put the chicks in a box with a lamp for heat. Ha, did you know that if you don't turn they light off, they don't know its time for bed. So they are outside in their box at 12:00 A.M. chirping and squeaking under my bedroom window. Let me tell you, the husband was thrilled about this! Time goes by and my boys are having fun playing with them, but they want to show them to grandma on a web call. Great, now I have chicken who poop at will hovering over my laptop keyboard. Its ok, they held it in. The boys bring them in to watch cartoons and hang out in my family room. Ok, buy now they are a little big to be "lap" chickens.
<br />Did I mention there are 5 of them. Yep, that's right 5 chickens, and no we don't live in the country, we are right here in town. (Oops, don't tell anyone) So I know your wondering what kind of chickens I have. Well I have 3 red ones and 2 black ones. No I don't know thier breed, it wasn't written on the egg before it hatched. So we needed to name them. At first they were just 1, 2, 3, 4, and 5; but seriously those names are lame so they got new ones.
<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu9CNNpUunubxA94HrdEgZb9fUavj1OaZO4E-ZG4SX5N_MFDddIzGftQEYEemWHN50S7Kcv0nnq3Rd08nDWKec68cPBp04048rltOiLMdXvht6E8r7QSYlhX67BlgzaGe-mHxu9C2iALw/s1600/DCP_8744.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu9CNNpUunubxA94HrdEgZb9fUavj1OaZO4E-ZG4SX5N_MFDddIzGftQEYEemWHN50S7Kcv0nnq3Rd08nDWKec68cPBp04048rltOiLMdXvht6E8r7QSYlhX67BlgzaGe-mHxu9C2iALw/s320/DCP_8744.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407350688796882946" /></a>
<br />At this time I'd like to introduce you to Michelle Obama, Oprah Winfrey, Reba Macintyre, Wynnona Judd, and Lucy Ball; of course at home we don't use their last names.
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<br />So now begins the tribulations with regard to reverse racism. At first I thought the chickens just didn't like dogs. They chased a lonely Chiuaua out of the yard. Seriously what kind of dog is scared of a chicken? The blue jays that use to sit in the grass, can't stop and rest their wings for fear of being attacked by my 5 girls. Ok so birds of a feather flock together...or so we thought. I went out back just the other day and well since my chickens own the yard and refuse to stay in their coop I went to see what they were doing. Reba and Wynonna were eating what was left of the pumpkin plant in the garden and Michelle and Oprah were pulling feathers from Lucy's neck. What the hell. So I yelled at Michelle and Oprah and put them in timeout for awhile. We do not pick fights. So after a discussion about playing nice with the other gals in the yard I let Mrs. Obama and Mrs. Winfery out on good behavior. You'd think they had learned their lessons right. Nope as soon as it was dinner time those two fat asses started a fight with Reba. Here's Reba wasting away while Michelle and Oprah gorge themselves. The least they could have done is kept the food from Wynonna (the other lard ass in the yard). So why is this? I think my black chickens are racist. They don't want any chickens except black chickens in the yard. This will not do, we do not condone racism in our home. So the solution to most of you would be just eat Michelle and Oprah right? WRONG! These are members of my family. The two racist ladies in the family will begin seeing a counselor and if that doesn't work, well, I guess I'll buy some red spray paint and give Michelle and Oprah a new look.Melissa Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13223170707265595091noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246180089496293581.post-21263442426391473852009-11-19T15:47:00.000-08:002009-11-19T16:20:58.264-08:00People in Control<div>Why is it when you give a person the smallest inkling of control they think they can rule the world and the way you live in it. For example an employee realizes that their boss is useless and really does nothing all day long and they make a casual comment to another coworker about their observation. One would think that the coworker (in this instance we'll call her Mary) would acknowledge the comment and know that her coworker is just blowing off steam. But what if Mary is an ass kissing brown noser who instead runs straight to the boss? Now we have a problem. Mary has gone to the boss and taken ammunition straight from your mouth with her. (the only thing that could make this moment worse is a tape recorder in Mary's pocket when you were talking) So if you were the boss what would you do? Well since you have that little bit of control, you obviously call in the employee and confront him/her not knowing the circumstances of the said conversation between him/her and Mary. </div>
<br /><div>So that takes us back to the power and control problem. Now the boss has the control and power and you the employee who was venting off some steam and relieving a little stress are at their mercy. What now? Do you kiss your bosses ass and beg for mercy?</div>
<br /><ul>
<br /><li>HELL NO!</li>
<br /><li>You deny EVERYTHING!</li>
<br /><li>And I do mean EVERYTHING!</li>
<br /><li>You have no clue what crazy Mary is talking about (she's been going through a hard time and is probably drinking again)</li></ul>
<br /><p>Ok, so we think the problem is solved right. You've denied everything until you are blue in the face and maybe your boss believes you. There's still a few problems.</p>
<br /><ol>
<br /><li>Your boss still has the control and power. You now have a target on your back and are being watched like never before.</li>
<br /><li>Your boss still has the control and power, and s/he is still useless</li>
<br /><li>You can't trust Mary any longer</li></ol>
<br /><p>Well, short of putting liquor bottles in your bosses desk and a dead body under their car in the parking lot there really isn't much we can do about numbers 1 and 2. Ah, but number 3 will be fun!</p>
<br /><p>How do we deal with Mary? At this point she probably doesn't know that the boss had a stern conversation with you and you were written up, and if she suspects she can't confirm (unless she was standing outside the door with a cup against it) We all remember that old adage "Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer" lets roll with that.</p>
<br /><p>Lets make nice with Mary, after all, the nicer you are to her the more she lets her guard down. Who knows maybe one day she'll have a bad day and need to vent. Luckily for you, you just purchased a new pen size tape recorder. She'll never know what hit her.</p>Melissa Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13223170707265595091noreply@blogger.com0