I got tagged from Rant & Ravin' Haven!!! This might actually be kind of funny.

Here are the rules:

The Rules:

1. Go into your archive.
2. Find your 23rd post.
3. Find the fifth sentence (or closest to).
4. Post the text of the sentence in your blog along with these instructions.
5. Tag five other people to do the same

I''m really kind of surprised that I had 23 posts to choose from! But here was my sentence:

He'll stick his hands down his pants and go to town in front of ANYBODY

BWWWAHHHAHAHAHAAA!

Now I want to tag some people that I blog to and some new bloggers that look to have interesting sites:

Here are my tag-ees

Freak Magnet
Stewie
Michael
Spicy Cracker
MommyBlogr


*****************************
OK guys... I'm heading to the Balloon Fiesta tomorrow afternoon in Albuquerque, NM. So I'll be gone till Sunday - but I'm coming back with pictures! I'm dragging 3 small children 4 hours away to wake them up at ungodly hours, and haul them around a field where we'll initially freeze our tails off, then burn up in the heat.... I'M EXCITED! I can't wait to see their little faces when they see all the balloons!

OH .. I had an experience last night. I went to Wally World to buy some undies & bras. I always buy thong undies. I know you probably didn't want that information, but I hate granny panties. I don't like undie lines showing through my clothes. But I digress! I was sitting there buying my new slinky undies, when Wally World security shows up. (Hey - they have those secret service ear pieces!! I almost cracked up) But anyway - one guy came up to me and said "Pardon me ma'am, we need to speak with you." WTF?? I'm not shoplifting!! But I asked him what the problem was, all the while I was getting prepared to call a lawyer (LOL). They then told me that their security cameras had observed a man watching me look through the panties, and BEATING OFF while he was watching me!! EWWWWWWWWWWWWWW That's just fucking nasty!!!!! So they came to tell me that when I was ready to leave the store, they would walk me to my car. I asked them if they tried to get the guy - but he *ahem* finished & left. GROSS GROSS GROSS. So I left. I went home. But I just had to share. The security guys did share this little bit of info with me though, he said that they tend to monitor the lingerie sections (women's AND girl's) specifially for this reason. What a sad little world we live in..

ANYHOO.......... You guys have a fun weekend, and I hope my tag-ees have fun!

peace out babies

norman

A small potpourri of things I looked at today:

An email joke:

The family wheeled Grandma out on the lawn, in her wheelchair, where the activities for her 100th birthday were taking place.

Grandma couldn't speak very well, but she could write notes when she needed to communicate. After a short time out on the lawn, Grandma started leaning off to the right, so some family members grabbed her, straightened her up, and stuffed pillows on her right. A short time later, she started leaning off to her left, so again the family grabbed her and stuffed pillows on her left. Soon she started leaning forward, so the family members again grabbed her, then tied a pillowcase around her waist to hold her up.

A nephew who had arrived late, came up to Grandma and said, "Hi, Grandma, you're looking good! How are they treating you?" Grandma took out her little notepad and slowly wrote a note to the nephew.... "They won't let me fart."

Our drunk-looking passed out beagle "Junior"


Now look at this dog. It looks like he's curled up & passed out on the worlds biggest beer bong. See the end of the hose? It looks like he's been huffing beer out of the end, and finally passed out after about a keg.

I swear I have a picture of me in the same position somewhere. (It's from my single-days... I swear)





And who wouldn't want to hug this?


This was what I saw when I opened the door to my house today. My little Avery.

Nevermind that she got hold of a huge bag of paper sacks and scattered them all over the place (you can see the handle of the one she dropped when she saw me). Didn't pay attention to the mysterious yellow stains on her outfit (ewww... what did you EAT??)

But here is my Mommy Blog Moment.


AWWWWW!!! She's happy to see me! She toddled to me on her stumpy little legs babbling jibberish about things she's done & seen today. Actually - I think she was ratting out Junior for bonging on the garden hose.

NORM!

How Smart is Your Right Foot?

And I bet you'll keep trying at least 50 more times to see if you can outsmart your foot, but you can't.
1. While sitting at your desk, lift your right foot off the floor and make clockwise circles.
2. Now, while doing this, draw the number "6" in the air with your right hand.

Your foot will change direction.

I told you! And there's nothing you can do about it!!!

Have you seen the various blogs online that celebrate Half-Nekkid Thursday? Cruise around, you'll find them... I don't participate in the Thursday thing. But today I've experienced "Full Frontal Friday"! I'm thinking I may have founded it, and raised it to an art form at the same moment. I went streaking through my parents house in all my glory. Well - as much glory as a 35 year old body that's given birth to three children can glorify that is.

I didn't actually MEAN to go streaking. And I'm horribly embarrassed right now, and I think my dad is too. I can't remember the last time he's seen me nudie.

Why did I streak? It wasn't an alcohol-induced fantasy, if that's what you're thinking. It was this:



This is a Wolf Spider.

Mr. Wolf Spider was on my shirt. Mr. Wolf Spider took a ride when I found him, as did my shirt. Then I couldn't find him because apparently my wild gyrations in the shirt removal sent him to lower ground. Now, I didn't take time to check the shirt too thoroughly. I just danced out of my pants, my underwear, and my bra with the tickly strap because it was giving me the hibbily jibbilies.


I also want you to picture in your mind... the wild head shaking and limb-flailing I was doing at the exact same time that my clothes were coming off. Ok. You got that picture? Now just two more things to throw into your mental image: High-pitched screamy sounds that I emitted. (Which I think is my bodies way of warding off insects) and the little puffs of smoke my feet left as I careened wildly through the house. By the way - the whole entire strip tease took a record 5 seconds.


I so wish this whole episode had been un-witnessed. But like they say, if wishes were farts we'd die of suffocation in a methane atmosphere.

Witnessed by, in order of their appearance: My 3 year old son, my 9 month old daughter, my 7 year old daughter, my mother, my father and lastly - my husband.

Reactions from the gallery:

3 year old: DO IT AGAIN MOMMY!
9 monther: well... how's startled eyes and tottering as fast as her newly walking legs will take her away from me sound?
7 year old: hysterics... laughter that is
Mother: Polite concern that is overwhelmed by the surpressed laughter
Father: absolute bewilderment, followed by disbelief
Husband: oh he just thought it was priceless and begged for a re-enactment after he got his video camera. (My mother seconded this idea)

Hey! This wasn't a measly little tiny spider. Wolf Spiders are huge!! I kid you not - this hairy fucker was about 2 inches in length. I swear to God! Anyway - he apparently thought I was a suitable ferry and hitched a ride on my shirt. I had been sitting on a bench in my parents back yard and brought him into the house.

But it's been a few hours now and I think the adrenaline is FINALLY leaving my body. I no longer have the uncontrollable shakes and I feel bold enough to blog about it. So enjoy my Full Frontal Friday.

NORMAN!

Really had nothing new or interesting happen today... OH WAIT!! I take that back. I had a LITTLE bit of fun today, but I'm kinda pissed about it.

I bought one of those electric zapper pens. Have you seen them? You click on the top and it shocks the shit out of the person clicking it. I brought it to work and proceeded to have a heyday. I shocked all my office people (the ones that didn't hear the last victim shrieking), and then I went and shocked one of my best friends. He clicked the top, screamed like a little girl, and winged my pen against the wall where it burst open. After I wiped the tears of laughter from my eyes, I picked up the pieces & took it back to my office. About this time, my boss walked in. She looked at me with my pen in pieces and said, "Stressed?" I saw.... an opportunity.

I innocently put the pen back together and told her, "It's my new pen - but I can't get it to click !!" I looked at her imploringly. She took my pen, I watched with bated breath. She clicked it, nothing. "It's trashed" she said, put my pen on my desk and left.

MY NEW TOY IS BROKEN!!!! I'm bummed. It was so much fun while it lasted. I want another one, but with shipping that thing cost me $14.00 and I had to wait two weeks to get it.

So while I'm waiting ('cause I ordered two more of them), I found one of these questionnaires that everyone and their dog is doing. So for shits & giggles here's mine:

i am not: athletically inclined
i love: frozen margaritas (oh yeah.. with a little salt on the rim...BABY!)
i fear: the boogety man. (he's in my closet)
i hope: he doesn't get out.
i hear: him scratching at the door.. (when I'm freaking out that is)
i crave: chocolate. (that time of the month, ya know?)
i regret: telling ya'll that it's that time of the month.
i cry: when I get uber pissed.
i care: about children that are abused.
i always: check under my bed before sleeping
i believe: the boogety man escaped from my closet and crammed himself under my bed
i feel alone: actually - i try not to be alone cause of that frickin boogety man.
i listen: to 80's music (it's my deep dark secret)
i hide: chocolate from my kids. (It's MINE all MINE)
i drive: a bright yellow Escape (I never lose it in the parking lot either)
i sing: at the top of my lungs, in my car, very badly
i dance: like most white people do... badly
i write: short stories that people tell me I should compile & publish (shaaa!! Right!)
i play: online poker at poker party.net. i really believe I'm the next WSOP bracelet winner.
i miss: my brother (RIP)
i search: for my car keys every damn morning (wish they were bright yellow)
i learn: more from my kids than any book learning I ever had
i feel: kinda funky right now. I'm taking painkillers for a pinched nerve in my neck.
i know: I'm a geek!
i saw: my neighbor naked - and he doesn't know it!!! (I'M BLIND!!!)
i succeed: whenever I really put my mind to it.
i dream: of pure total happiness.
i wonder: if I'll achieve that dream
i want: to take my kids to a Disneyland Resort Hotel Vacation
i have: no money to do this (with 3 kids.... sheeeeeeiiiitttt)
i give: money to an abused children's shelter
i fight: when i don't get chocolate
i need: to eat somemore chocolate

Okay Guys....WHY? Why do you feel the need to scratch your stuff all the frickin' time??!
I just had to get on to my husband. Not literally mind you, not if he's grabbing himself as if he's been infested with the fleas of a thousand camels. He'll stick his hands down his pants and go to town in front of ANYBODY. It's one of the reasons why I don't have many parties here. I'm afraid.

I bought him some Blue-Star ointment, but he won't use it. He's afraid it will burn. Well - I'm afraid his dong is going to fall off if it itches as much as he claims it does. He says this is just part of being a guy. And I'm afraid he's proved his point.

Let's go back about 3 years. My son was just learning how to crawl, and he also learned how to pull his diaper off all by himself. I came into the living room, and saw my husband just watching my son sit on the floor butt ass nekked. They both looked so happy. Ethan had a bad case of diaper rash - so I didn't hurry to much to re-diaper him. As he was sitting there, he just casually reached down and pulled on himself. Then he realized that he was grabbing something, and decided to see just how far he could stretch that booger out. (Hey - why ARE they so stretchy??) It was at this point that my husband turned to me and said "See? It's nature... we're born to grab'em!" I think it was then that I started to believe.

Let's go to about 1 year ago... Ethan came running up to me. And he looked just like his father. Hands down his pants and everything.
"Mommy!! I got it! I got it!!"
"What did you get Ethan?"
"MY teetee! I got it!"
"Well - Let go of it!"
"No!! It's MY teetee! It's MINE!!!"

And then he ran away from me. I heard him a couple of seconds later...
"Daddy!! I got it! I got it!"

and my husband's response?

"ALLRIGHT BUDDY!!! WAY TO GO!! WOOOHOOOO!"


norman

Got this over e-mail... it's too funny not to post!!

All hair removal methods have tricked women with their promises of easy, painless removal - The epilady, scissors,razors, Nair and now...the wax.

My night began as any other normal weeknight. Come home, fix dinner, play with the kids. I then had the thought that would ring painfully in my mind for the next few hours: "Maybe I should pull the waxing kit out of the medicine cabinet." So I headed to the site of my demise: the bathroom. It was one of those "cold wax" kits. No melting a clump of hot wax, you just rub the strips together in your hand, they get warm and you peel them apart and press them to your leg (or wherever else) and you pull the hair right off. No muss, no fuss. How hard can it be? I mean, I'm not a genius, but I am mechanically inclined enough to figure this out. (YA THINK!?!)

So I pull one of the thin strips out. It's two strips facing each other stuck together. Instead of rubbing them together, my genius kicks in so I get out the hair dryer and heat it to 1000 degrees. ("Cold wax," yeah...right!) I lay the strip across my thigh. Hold the skin around it tight and pull. It works! OK, so it wasn't the best feeling, but it wasn't too bad. I can do this! Hair removal no longer eludes me! I am She-rah, fighter of all wayward body hair and maker of smooth skin extraordinaire.

With my next wax strip I move north. After checking on the kids, I sneak back into the bathroom, for the ultimate hair fighting championship. I drop my panties and place one foot on the toilet. Using the same procedure, I apply the wax strip across the right side of my bikini line, covering the right half of my vagina and stretching down to the inside of my butt cheek. (Yes, it was a long strip) I inhale deeply and brace myself.........RRRRIIIPPP!!!!

I'm blind!!! Blinded from pain!!!!.... OH MY GOD!!!!!!!!! Vision returning, I notice that I've only managed to pull off half the strip. CRAP!!! Another deep breath and RRIIPP!! Everything is swirly and spotted. I think I may pass out...........must stay conscious...Do I hear crashing drums??? Breathe, breathe...OK, back to normal.

I want to see my trophy - a wax covered strip, the one that has caused me so much pain, with my hairy pelt sticking to it. I want to revel in the glory that is my triumph over body hair. I hold up the strip! There's no hair on it. Where is the
hair??? WHERE IS THE WAX??? Slowly I ease my head down, foot still perched on the toilet. I see the hair. The hair that should be on the strip. I touch. I am touching wax. CRAP! I run my fingers over the most sensitive part of my body, which is now covered in cold wax and matted hair.

Then I make the next BIG mistake.......remember my foot is still propped up on the toilet? I know I need to do something. So I put my foot down. DAMN!!!!!!!! I hear the slamming of a cell door. Vagina? Sealed shut! Butt?? Sealed shut!

I penguin walk around the bathroom trying to figure out what to do and think to myself "Please don't let me get the urge to poop. My head may pop off!" What can I do to melt the wax? Hot water!! Hot water melts wax!! I'll run the hottest water I
can stand into the bathtub, get in, immerse the wax-covered bits and the wax should melt and I can gently wipe it off, right??? *WRONG!!!!!!!* I get in the tub - the water is slightly hotter than that used to torture prisoners of war or sterilize surgical equipment - I sit. Now, the only thing worse than having your nether regions glued together, is having them glued together and then glued to the bottom of the tub...in scalding hot water. Which, by the way, doesn't melt cold wax. So, now I'm stuck to the bottom of the tub as though I had cement-epoxied myself to the porcelain!! God bless the man who had convinced me a few months ago to have a phone put in the bathroom!!!!!

I call my friend, thinking surely she has waxed before and has some secret of how to get me undone. It's a very good conversation starter - "So, my butt and who-ha are glue together to the bottom of the tub!" There is a slight pause. She doesn't know any secret tricks for removal but she does try to hide her laughter from me. She wants to know exactly where the wax is located, "Are we talking cheeks or hole or who-ha?" She's laughing out loud by now.....I can hear her. I give her the rundown and she suggests I call the number on the side of the box. YEAH!!!!! Right!! I should be the joke of someone else's night. While we go through various solutions. I resort to scraping the wax off with a razor . Nothing feels better then to have your girlie goodies covered in hot wax, glued shut, stuck to the tub in super hot water and then dry-shaving the sticky wax off!! By now the brain is not working, dignity has taken a major hike and I'm pretty sure I'm going to need Post-Traumatic Stress counseling for this event.

My friend is still talking with me when I finally see my saving grace....the lotion they give you to remove the excess wax. What do I really have to lose at this point? I rub some on and OH MY GOD!!!!!!! The scream probably woke the kids and
scared the dickens out of my friend. It's sooo painful, but I really don't care. "IT WORKS!! It works !!" I get a hearty congratulation from my friend and she hangs up. I successfully remove the remainder of the wax and then notice to my grief and despair...THE HAIR IS STILL THERE.......ALL OF IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!. So I recklessly shave it off. Heck, I'm numb by now. Nothing hurts. I could have amputated my own leg at this point.

Next week I'm going to try hair color......

Guess who's looting in Wal-Mart?


Any comments? I'm ALMOST speechless. I guess I'm not too surprised after all the news stories about the daily atrocities that New Orleans is having to endure... but this one caught me by surprise.

I got this clip from Warcry Girl. Always an entertaining read!

norman

go here: inkblot test

I just took it. (Kids are in bed - husband's playing his damn video game - and I'm bored...)

Here was my result:

Norman, your unconscious mind is most driven by Kindness.

You have a deep desire to be kind and fair to others. You are preoccupied with finding kindness in the world around you, far more than you may realise on a conscious level. This makes you unusually empathetic and very sensitive to other people's feelings.

Your kind nature makes you an optimist at heart and allows you to see the best in the people around you. Because you're not judgmental, others seek you out when they need a friend.

Your psyche is very rich; the more you learn about it, the more you will understand who you really are.

HA HA HA!! I wonder which one of my personalities did THAT result?? I'm not feeling so kind... maybe I stared at the bat blot waaaay too long...

I went to a psychic not so long ago. I was pretty skeptical, but curious just the same. This is a psychic that the local police department uses from time to time. She's had some success in locating missing people (locally). I called to make an appointment and was told to come in 2 months later. That was pretty amazing. A 2 month wait list? She charges $60/hr and she visits with 8 people a day. Hmmmm, $480 a day and I'm betting she doesn't claim all of it on her taxes. Not a bad little scam. But my appointment day came, and I went for my reading. Being the skeptic that I am, I scheduled with a fake name. I didn't want her to have an easy time doing any research on me to 'surprise' me with facts that she knew about my life. I also brought along a tape recorder. Turned out I didn't need it, she supplied a tape of the reading, and it was included in the cost.

She reads tarot cards. I kept seeing some skeleton looking dude, and she said that's not necessarily a death card, but it was freaky to see it. All in all - it was a pretty mild reading, except for the fact that she said I have more 'spirits' following me around than she typically sees. Apparently, spirits follow lots of people around, I just have more. She called one of them by name, said he was close to me, and that he was very protective. The name she called him was Michael.

See - now that's where I felt my entire face drain of color. I know I know... Michael is a very common name, but she also went on to describe some [former] personality traits of Michael, and I just started to believe her. You see, my brother... Michael died when I was 11. I've always felt that he was watching me. This just seemed to make it even more believeable. So now I've completely wigged out, and then she started talking about an old woman with salt & pepper hair, thick thick glasses, and walks with a limp. This old woman would be passing on a gift. The old woman she described sounded like my grandmother, but again - how common is that description? I was still reeling from the Michael comment and didn't give that last one as much attention.

Then the session was over. As I was thanking her for her time, she told me that I was a puzzle to her. (Yeah! I didn't give her my real name!! LOL). I asked her how I puzzled her, and she told me that I am a strong psychic myself, and she didn't understand why I felt I needed to see her, unless I'm just not 'tapped in' to that part yet. If that was the case, she'd like me to come sit with her a few more times and she would see if a mentoring relationship could be worked out. So again, I'm thinking that this 'mentoring relationship' would cost a few bucks, and I just politely thanked her again and left. I popped my reading tape into the deck and started re-listening to the reading again, and thought I heard something strange. Too much road noise.

I stopped by my parents house on the way home, and laughingly told my dad about the afternoon I'd had. He was faintly disturbed by it. He told me that it's against the Bible to dabble in such things. I just assured him that I wouldn't be visiting her again. About this time... my grandmother totters in. I gave her a hug and she pressed a necklace into my hand. I looked down at it, and she told me that she was giving it to me. It was the necklace that my grandfather had given my grandmother on their 25th wedding anniversary. I hugged her tightly while I felt chills race down my spine. (enter the Twilight Zone theme song!!)

Well - after that weirdness occurred, I decided to listen to the reading one more time. See if I could figure out what was bothering me. I grabbed the headphones and cranked up the volume. When I got to the part that I'd heard the strange sound, I had to stop the tape, rewind and listen again to make sure I'd heard it right. It's my name. In the static, (white noise) I hear my name. My real name. The name I did not tell the psychic. I heard my name right about the time that she's telling me about Michael.

So now I'm not so skeptical. And add that to some of the stranger things that have occurred around me, past and present... I really have begun to wonder. I wonder if I should take her up on the mentoring offer.... LOL

norm

**sigh** I used to love the smurfs. Now I have this:

The modern Smurfs?

norman