"What the F*ck?" Wednesday

This is what I was looking at yesterday morning. Today, I'm staring at a cube wall. Well, only until 1:00 p.m., but still. WTF?

More Christmas Trauma

So, this time last week I was trying to get a picture of the girls with Santa. (Here is last year's attempt in case you don't remember. ) After an hour wait, and Dan spending lots of time walking the girls around the mall, I finally got to the front of the line. The lady took exactly one picture before Scarlett burst into tears.

WTF? Why does Scarlett hate Santa so much? Anabella loved Santa as a baby ... and look at him. Could he a better looking Santa? Scarlett wrestled around ... got her clothes all askew ... and then had a total meltdown. Why can't I get one decent Santa photo out of these two??

-- The B.S. Cafe is now serving stale candy canes and a mother's broken dreams.

Merry Christmas and such

Hi everyone! Hope your holidays were fabulous. I'll blog about ours later (I'm at the airport) but let's just say Anabella got a truck load of toys but only wanted to open her M&Ms and mommy discovered her second gray hair on Christmas day.

Dan and I are heading to Cabo San Lucas for three glorious kid-free nights, so I will be gone for a few more days.

Blogger Dan: our bet on the Texans game tomorrow is on. If you lose, I want either a can of Garrett's popcorn or meatballs from Rosebud (but I'll need to have those overnight. Ha!) Figure out what Texas treat you want ... Not that it's going to matter.


-- The B.S. Cafe is now serving guacamole and margaritas.

"What the F*ck?" Wednesday

WTF? Why is Santa trying to choke poor Winston?

-- The B.S Cafe is now serving pupperoni.

What does this guy do for a living?

First of all, GO TEXANS! Thank you for beating the Titans (without the involvement of poo water). That made my whole week. (We left a little early and as we walked by the port-o-potties, the hubby said "Maybe we should splash a little blue poo water on you ... just in case. Thanks, Omar. I will never escape that now.)

Second, Dan (not the hubby ... the other one) has extended a bet on the Texans vs. Bears game and I hereby accept. But what should the bet be?

Third, what do you think the guy above does for a living? I have been passing by him for several years now as I head down to my seats. And he has always had this hair style. And he obviously has season tickets. So I can't help but wonder...


-- The B.S Cafe is now serving Texas pride. Suck it, Titans.

That Girl Needs to Learn How to Cook!

So we had some real excitement at my office this past week. It started around 5 p.m. when the smell of burnt popcorn filled the air ... really filled the air. Less than a minute later, the fire alarm goes off and the loud and unintelligible voice of security comes over the intercom and tells us to "go to the stairs ... blah blah blah ... evacuate."

While we all pondered whether or not to actually leave, our department head comes by and says something about setting a bag of popcorn on fire. HA! No way! Now we are all very amused and not the least bit worried about dying in a high-rise blaze. (Granted it's time to go home, but the elevators have been shut down and we are on the 35th floor.)

Apparently someone did call security to let them know what happened, but that didn't stop them from sending 17 (SEVENTEEN!) emergency vehicles to our building. (Although, you can only see 11 in this photo ... sorry for the sucky quality, but that's the best my iPhone could do from the window, at sundown.)




This is the person responsible (our boss), hiding in her office in shame.


5:35 pm - The firemen arrive on our floor. So thank goodness it wasn't a real fire, or we all would have been toast. I counted seven of them, but there may have been more. I was trying to be inconspicuous with the photo taking.

And here is the culprit. I wonder how much this bag of popcorn really cost in the end?

The biggest lesson learned was ... I am way too lazy to walk down 35 flights of stairs. And that popcorn only takes about 2 minutes to cook in our office.

P.S. The title comes from a coworker who called up to make sure we were all okay.

-- The B.S. Cafe is now serving popcorn ... well done.

"What the F*ck?" Wednesday

SNOW! In HOUSTON! WTF??? 

Not that it wasn't totally cool, but it just doesn't snow in Houston

-- The B.S. Cafe is now serving snow cones.

Why Mommy Drinks

Just pretending to be 3 years old
Over the weekend, my angry chick went missing. I knew Anabella was the culprit because I have had to tell her several times not to play with it. ("Art" and "breakable" don't mean much to a 3 year old.)

Me: Anabella, where is mommy's bird?

Anabella: Birds are outside. (runs to window) Nope, no birds outside right now, mommy.

Me: Where is the bird that mommy has on the desk in her office? The one you were playing with yesterday?

Anabella: Bird?

Me: Yes. Let's go look. (walk into my office and point to where Angry Chick used to be)

Anabella: Bird is gone. (runs to office window) Nope, bird isn't out there mommy.

Me: Anabella, did you move mommy's bird?

Anabella: What bird?

Me: Anabella, the kitty misses her friend.

Anabella: (Very serious look on her face) Really?

Me: Yes, the kitty is very sad.

Anabella: Oh. (thinks about it for a minute.) I broke the bird. He's in that box. (pointing under desk) Sorry, mommy. (leaves the room)

Sure enough, angry chick was thrown in a box ... her gun barrel broken off. So apparently my sweet little girl was taking me on a silly, wild chicken chase, all the while knowing exactly what I was talking about. When did she get so smart ... and devious?

Coolest Car Ever
Okay, maybe not the coolest car ever, but look at what my car did the other day when I was dangerously close to running out of gas.

It took the initiative to find me 20 gas stations within the range of the amount of gas I had left. The only way it could be any cooler is if it said something like "Hey, dumba** ... you will be walking in about five minutes if you don't get some gas."

Secret Santa
I convinced my coworkers to participate in a Secret Santa exchange this week. Look what I got today ...

It's an old-school slinky ... no plastic, child-safe crap going on here. It's better than a stress ball, which is why I've been playing with it all day. No sense being productive on a Monday, right?

-- The B.S. Cafe is now serving lead-based toys.

Double Turkey

Dan and I managed to squeeze in a date night over the Thanksgiving weekend. We decided on dinner and Dave & Buster's ... Dan likes to pretend shoot things, and I enjoy any game that gives me tickets so I can "buy" worthless crap like this incredibly cool, farting finger pen. (Don't worry, I always get Anabella something while we are there ... this time it was a Dora wallet and a wind-up penguin who does back flips.)

Trivia is one of my favorites, but I also like Tower of Power .... BA DA DUM! (that's the noise it makes.) My friend Rakel and I totally rock ToP. (We hit the jackpot six times between the two of us last time we went on a double date to D&B.)

But the coolest D&B news was from the bowling alley, where Dan THE MAN busted out SIX strikes in a row. And this was after 1.) I had given up on bowling for the night, and 2.) He'd had about five beers. Everyone was MUY impressed ... high-fiving him and making comments on what a cool dude he was.

So here's to my honey and his double turkey. Fame and Glory not only at D&B, but also in the blog community.

-- The B.S. Cafe is now serving poultry.

I Heart Joel McHale

I somehow got sucked into watching the Britney special on MTV tonight and it reminded me of this spoof from The Soup.

Enjoy!

"What the F*ck?" Wednesday

OMG, are you f*cking serious? There is a typo embedded into the technology of my new car!!!! WTF???

I will now be forced to look at this every time I make a phone call. Clearly Land Rover has no understanding of what this will do to me. And don't tell me it's because you're British or some stupid sh*t ... you are owned by Ford now.

Fix it, Land Rover ... FIX IT!

**************************

Now for a funny, and non-Rhonda-traumatizing WTF...

... someone has way too much time on their hands. (The title of this email was "why men should not be allowed to play with action figures.")

WTF? Quit playing with dead animals, dudes.

-- The B.S. Cafe is now serving roadkill.

I am so F*cking OVER you ...

I have banked with many different institutions in my life and I can honestly say that Wells Fargo is the worst. Beyond the worst ... it's the devil. Maybe the bank isn't the devil, but the devil definitely works there ... and he is my account manager.

I won't go into a long, drawn out story about all the bad thing Wells Fargo has done to me ... but here are a few highlights.

1. Opened a savings account in my name WITHOUT my permission, then started automatically deducting money from my checking to put into said savings account every month. Then, didn't pay me interest because I hadn't signed the IRS form (maybe because I didn't ask you to open a savings account for me, a**holes?).

2. Told me there would be a 10-day hold on a large cashier's check and sent me a letter telling me the same. After 12 days, several charges bounce, because they decide to put an additional hold on said check without informing me (I guess Chase Bank is not a reputable source according to WF.). On top of that, they paid themselves (my car payment) first (putting my account in the negative) and then bounced several smaller charges on the same day, which would have gone through had the car payment not, and charged me $35 a pop for each.

3. After depositing CASH, at lunchtime, I find out they didn't credit it immediately. Who doesn't credit CASH on the same day if you make it in before close of business? Argh.

So the latest fiasco involved me buying a new car and riding myself of the Range Rover and Wells Fargo all in one swoop. (I have been counting the days!) I called them up, got the payoff information, filled out their little form to stop automatic withdraw of the payment from my account, sent it back and did a little dance. The end? NO.

Several days later they decide to go ahead and take out the payment, even though they probably have the payoff check in their satanic little hands, which of course overdrafted the account ... because it has no money in it since I intend to close it ASAP. So now, even though they have an extra car payment in their possession, they have been psycho calling me all weekend because my account is in overdraft.

Only the devil would pay himself a car payment on a car that has been PAID OFF from an account that has no money in it.

Zoo Day goes Rated X

On Sunday, we had incredibly gorgeous weather, so we decided to take the girls to the zoo. I was a little hesitant because a baby elephant died last week and Anabella always looks forward to seeing him. Luckily, three-year olds are easily distracted by leaves or pigeons or whatever, so we didn't have to deal with the death issue this trip.


All of the animals were out enjoying the cool weather. I even managed to get most of them to look right at me for a photo.

Does anyone else watch Meercat Manor? We love that show and our zoo has a really cool Meercat exhibit.

The big cats are usually hiding mid-day, but they were all out lounging around on Sunday. Look at the paws on this big boy.

Only in Texas would you find an armadillo on the carousel. And look at Anabella's face ... she cracks me up.

Oh, and just so you know. Sunday is Leather-Pants-For-Dads Day at the zoo. WTF?

Okay, here is the real zoo scoop. This is a very bad monkey.

I could skip the monkeys all-together, but Anabella loves them (probably something about sharing a love of playing with poo). Anyway, this monkey was acting all freaky, so I ask Dan "what is he doing?" Within seconds it became VERY clear what he was doing, so we steered Anabella in the other direction.

As we get to the other side of the cage Mr. Spank lives in, there he is again, plopped down in front of the crowd. Before I could even ask if it was the same monkey, Dan, Anabella and Scarlett were off to the next exhibit. I decide to take this picture (so I could blog about him) and before I get my eye away from the lens, Mr. Spank starts up again ... and "finishes" his business. That's right, I got a telephoto view of the whole event.

And really, this is all my friend Halle's fault. Just last Friday she was telling me that she and her husband were reading my blog and she couldn't think of anything worse than getting blue poo water on yourself.

Well, guess what? Watching a monkey enjoy a happy ending is worse than blue poo water. I can't even believe I am saying that, but seriously people, I was very disturbed and now have that burned in my mind forever.

BAD MONKEY.

No Words, Just Photos

Taken by our favorite photographer, Kaoni Norris, a few weeks ago.

"What the f*ck?" Wednesday

WTF? If you have a 200-pound kid that still isn't potty trained ... well, you have a serious problem. Not even SpongeBob can fix that.

I'm so f*cking OVER you ...

... TEXANS! Not Texans meaning us cool people who live in Texas, but The Texans as in the football team.

I am so tired of dragging my ass to Reliant Stadium every other Sunday to see them lose. It's depressing. Especially because 1.) we have a lot of good players, and 2.) we have spent a lot of money to be season ticket holders for 7 years of losing seasons.

I know we are a new team, but COME ON. Despite what Omar thinks, they are not losing because I refuse to splash more blue poo water on myself! Get a decent quarter back. Get a better coach. Do SOMETHING. Throw money at it! Seriously, I hear that works.

Oh, and while you are at it...please get rid of the hookers who dance in the end zone after every quarter. What happened to the days when cheerleaders did CHEERS and not just slutty dances? I don't want my daughters watching that crap.

So to wrap this rant up with something completely not related to the Texans sucking, a little fun fact about me. Here is the view from my seat ...

And here is where I watch the game.

I think somebody has a TV problem.

Will the POOP ever stop?

I walked into my bedroom Friday night to find this pillow on the floor. (Don't worry, I don't have exercise mats on the floor in my room ... this was taken at the pillow's new home ... the garage.)

From the distance, I was like "Hmmm, what's that pillow doing in here? And what is on it? That couldn't be ... no ... that isn't ... SH*T!!!!"

So of course I scream for Dan, because this clearly happened on his watch.

Dan: That's definitely Frankie. Frankie sh*t all over that thing.

Me: So you are saying you think Frankie balanced on this ball while doing his business. Or you think he moved around so he could crap on various different spots on it?

Dan: I don't know! That's definitely dog sh*t.

Upon further investigation, we noticed spots on the carpet where poop had previously resided. And then it became crystal clear what happened.

Me: Anabella, did Frankie poop?

Anabella: Yes, in your bedroom. I cleaned it up.

Me: (in my head) OMG, are you serious? You used a silk, Marge Carson pillow to roll up dog sh*t off the floor? WTF??

Me: (out loud) That was really nice of you to help clean up, Anabella. Next time, tell mommy or daddy and let's use a paper towel, okay?

Anabella: (big, sweet smile) Okay, mommy.

Clearly, the poop is never going to stop. Ever since Anabella arrived, it has been a constant in my life ... kind of like sunrises, Pinot Grigio and cussing.

And if you are wondering why I still have the Poop Pillow, it's because my irrational mind is not totally convinced yet that it can't be cleaned.

"What the F*ck?" Wednesday

Scarlett came home from school today with this hairdo, if you can even call it that.


WTF? My adorable baby doesn't need a weird, Alfalfa ponytail. Look at her face. Does she look like she is enjoying this?

Now, the do that resulted from removing the ponytail was actually quite amusing.

Photo Op Weekend

Just a few photos from our Halloween weekend. This is the first time Anabella understood what trick-or-treating means ("they are going to give me candy?!"), so she was really pumped. Scarlett went as a little witch. Couldn't keep the hat on her, but she looked pretty cute anyway.

Anabella wanted to be a pirate ... of course she had her "Arrrrrrr!" down perfectly, and she was the World's Most Polite Trick-or-Treater ever, yelling "Thank YOU! Happy Halloween!" as she left every house.

Here is Winston in his pirate outfit. That's Chloe, our neighbor's daughter, who wanted to share her candy ... apparently Winston looked like he needed a tootsie roll. When I mentioned he could barely fit into his costume, she decided to keep it for herself.

Saturday morning, we woke up to find a giant pile of itty bitty pieces of tin foil on the dining room table. I totally flipped out, thinking that Anabella had eaten 50 pieces of chocolate before 8:00 a.m., but then she showed me this.


I guess she just liked unwrapping them. Whew.

And here is a picture of Anabella at a princess birthday tea party on Saturday morning. She wanted to take the outfit off as soon as we got in the car.

And she was completely OVER it after 15 minutes and 3 cups of "tea." I have to admit ... I love that she isn't a super girly-girl. Not that there is anything wrong with that, it's just that I'm not a bows/bedazzled/glittery kind of girl either.

Anabella was completely disinterested in Cinderella, who had the full attention of all the other princesses, and spent about 20 minutes sitting in a chair, holding a fork, and staring down the cake.

That's my girl!

"What the F*ck?" Wednesday ... I mean, Thursday

A day late, but with plenty of gravy ...

Before you say anything about my high-carb, low-nutrition lunch, please remember I have been eating lots of soup lately and I can't eat anything healthy (no raw veggies or even most cooked ones, no nuts, seeds or anything high in fiber!).

So I get this yummy to-go lunch and when I get back to my desk I start pulling out container after container of condiments ... three gravies and two tarter sauces to be exact.

WTF, Luby's? I didn't ask for either of these condiments, and while I appreciate you assuming I wanted them, one would have been plenty. I wasn't planning to take a gravy bath or have a tarter-sauce facial today.

Housekeeping

I would like to say congrats to my friends Kathy and Matt who welcomed a gorgeous little girl on Monday. Her name is Peyton ... how cute is that?

And for NCS, some things to go with your toast band-aids.

Taking a Chill Pill

Sorry I haven't been around much, but I have been taking it easy. I don't think I have ever shared here that I have Crohn's disease (mainly because it has been in remission and quite frankly, it's a bit of a downer), but I do ... and it's back with a vengeance.

So, I've been relaxing as much as possible, which means everything else has been sidelined over the past week. But the good news is I am feeling better every day and apparently potato soup is a miracle cure for intestinal disorders. Just so you know.

I have also been taken off of "hate mail" duty at work and that helped my angry gut almost immediately. But here is what I learned from answering nasty emails for almost two weeks.

1. Excessive use of exclamation points (e.g. I am so angry!!!!!!) or question marks (e.g. What is wrong with you people??????????) means you are very, VERY pissed.
2. Some people don't understand how to use rhetorical questions properly. (e.g. Don't you think I would like a spa vacation??? I demand an answer!)
3. Making threats is okay, just make sure suspicion won't fall on you by using a clause like "Not that I would do that," "I don't think it's right, but..." or "I'm not saying I want this to happen, but..."
4. If a person closes a letter by saying "I'm not crazy, I just want to know," they are crazy.

Weekend Disturbia

It was a wonderful weekend...lots of QT with the girls, a 90-minute massage, and tailgating with the hubby at the Texans game. It was perfect, except for two of the most disturbing incidents in my recent life.

Saturday morning, we wake up to Scarlett making silly sounds through the baby monitor.

Hubby: Good morning. I had a really nice dream about you last night.

Me: Really? Well I dreamed that I was having sex with Donald Trump. (I have no filter first thing in the morning.)

Hubby: WHY?

Me: I don't know! But if it makes you feel any better, he had a really small penis.

Hubby: I could have guessed that.

Of course I spent the rest of the day trying to decipher my dream. I'm sure it goes without saying that I do not find him attractive. I hadn't been talking about him or seen him on TV recently. So WTF?

Fast-forward to Sunday.

It was a gorgeous day...sunny, cool and slightly windy. We are out in the parking lot at Reliant Stadium tailgating before the game, and suddenly I have to go...like NOW. So I did what I never do...I used the port-o-potty.

I was taking care of my business when I felt something splash back UP onto my butt cheek. AHHHHH! NO! Not blue poo water on my butt cheek!! I had come armed with hand sanitizer and paper towels, but no amount of sanitizer on my cheek made it feel clean. In fact, I have never left more dirty. Ugh.

It was all I could think about for the next 3 hours. The hubby tried to calm me down, but all I could think about was that spot on my butt cheek and God only knows WHO'S poo water on it.

As soon as we got home, I stripped off my clothes and washed them in boiling hot water. Then I went straight to the shower where I washed that spot for about half an hour.

I can still feel the poo water on that cheek...I'll never recover.

"What the F*ck?" Wednesday

SO much WTF-ness today...

First, how do you like these shoes? Look at the adorable little mouse faces on the toe.

Would you ever be caught dead wearing these? I expect not. But that isn't the WTF part.

Would you pay $299.94 for these ridiculous shoes (ON SALE, no less!)?

Look at these. I don't care if they are Prada...and "on sale"...I am not paying $399.94 for a pair of shoes with a 1970s-era plastic yellow buckle.

These are the least expensive of the bunch at $199.94, probably because they are beach wear, but still...they look like something Mrs. Roper would wear with one of her muumuus.


These win the "WTF, are you f*cking kidding me?" Award. I am in no way thrifty, but I can't believe someone would pay even $25 (much less $299.94) for this pair of floral print moccasins.


Seriously, DSW. WTF is going on with this shoe selection?

Death on a Platter
I know you will find this hard to believe, but the green stuff tasted even worse than it looks.

My favorite wine bar, Max's Wine Dive, changed up their menu, and this was a new addition ... "French escargot in honey bacon and sweet onion butter with hon shimeji mushroom, grilled crouton, and parsley foam."

My friends and I were very excited to try it, and quite frankly, I wasn't worried about the parsley foam because I have always lived under the assumption that parsley has no flavor.

I was so wrong. Parsley does have a flavor (especially in foam form) and it is called ASS. It was by far the worst thing I have put in my mouth in a very long time. In fact, it was so bad that I wiped off my tongue and did my best to quarantine the nastiness to one side of the plate.

What are we drinking?
According to this article ... "bacteria, caffeine, the pain reliever acetaminophen, fertilizer, solvents, plastic-making chemicals and the radioactive element strontium." WTF?

http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20081015/ap_on_sc/impure_bottled_water