Wednesday, February 13, 2008
Darling Nikki
Knew a girl named Nikki
Guess you could say
She was a sex fiend.

Met her in a hotel lobby
Masturbating with a magazine!!

See what e-mail harrassment gets you on my blog?? A little ditty about ya sung by Prince.
Remember when that song was just Kinda like Nikki. Ah. Don't worry. She won't be pissed at me for poking fun at her. For proof...see #36 .

Anywho. Joking aside, Nicki was e-mailing me, checking in to make sure I was okay since I seem to be particularly NEGLECTFUL of this blog.

I agree. Especially since I've had so much blogable crap happening lately. Take for instance, that I fell down the stairs at my house the other day. It's amazing you know. Really. And before I go into the particulars, I do have a question for everyone.

Anybody want a cat? Or two cats? Any takers, just let me know.

Okay. So. Here's how it happened:

Ever since I ran the crazy woman off (see last post), I've come to believe that she is trying to kill me using some sort of weird elderly woman/witch karma mojo mambajamba crap.

Cause I don't fall down stairs. I mean, I'm not the most GRACEFUL of people, but I don't fall down stairs. Especially with two small children in a bathtub that require constant monitoring because Ethan keeps trying to make Avery sleep wit da fishies. I would give them baths independantly, but hell - I'm lazy, it's a waste of water, and they're little so they don't really care that they see each other in all their glory.

While making sure that Ethan didn't hold his sister down for yet another prolonged dunk, the phone rang. My man had taken my daughter and a friend to the 3-D Hannah Montana price-gouging movie, so it was just me and the merpeople. Thinking his brain might be melting because he was having to listen to 500 pre-pubescent girlies screaming to the lastest fad, I headed downstairs to grab the phone.

Which is when the two cats that are on my shit-list decided to kamikaze me. One ran between my feet, the other ran behind me and swear to God PUSHED. (I really think he did. Which is why I think the old witched left some hex-powder hanging around).

So down I went, merrily bouncing my head off the banister, and vaguely noticing my ass was trying to flip over my head led by my feet.

And the entire time? I was worried that I wouldn't be able to reach the phone to dial 911 when I broke my neck. After what took what felt like an eternity...I hit the bottom. And noticed two white objects skitter across the floor....small...tooth-shaped objects. SHIT!!! My Teeth! I flung my hand up to my mouth, and sliced the crap out of my cheek. OW! Nope. Teeth are intact. Small white objects were my nails which broke off at an evil slant..effectively become shanks that any inmate would envy.

I writhed about on the ground for awhile, and made sure nothing was seriously broken...other than my nails, my pride, and my wallet because the damn people that do my nails charge me fore EACH BROKEN NAIL. Two were broken and now considered lethal weapons, and 4 were split. Not on ze left side, not on ze right side. But Right! In! Ze! Meedle!!! (yeah. for insight on that reference, watch Hot Dog! The Movie). I finally decided I could move, and crawled back up to the bathroom to check on the kids. Both were peering at me from the tub. "Mommy! What was that noise!?"

"oh. I fell down the stairs." I tried to be nonchalant about it. Mistake. Since the kids don't see tears, this is now considered....FUNNY! BWWWAAAHAHAHAHHAHHAHHAHAHA!!! Meanwhile, still trying to do a damage assessment, I rolled up my jeans leg. Big purple bruises are already forming (I'm very pale, and if a butterfly runs into me, I bruise) One of the forming bruises has ruptured and is bleeding. Which made the laughter stop. And then they turned into the biggest little sweeties ever. Two naked little wet bodies launched out of the tub to give me big hugs. Then I was covered in Dora and Scooby Doo bandaids, because, of course, bandaids make everything better.

I started to feel better, got the kids dressed and waited for my other half to come home so I could grab some muscle relaxers and chug a beer.

HOWEVER... when he got home -- he brought in the mail. Which contained a jury summons. For me. For Valentine's Day. Yay. And then to top it all off??

I'm scheduled for a root canal on Friday.

Oh yeah. Witch sprinkled bad vibes for SURE before she left.

But hey...on the bright side - jury duty will give me something to write about later!

Stay tuned kiddies!
posted by Norman at 8:21 PM | Permalink |


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