WTF Wednesday: What's that on my butt?

It's been a while and I woke up this morning and thought, "I should blog today." 

Then, I immediately felt something on my butt. And I thought, "Hey there thing on my butt. What are you?"

It was quite early. I wasn't alarmed for my health or anything. But I was certainly curious what was on my butt. 

(my husband is looking over my shoulder right now thinking, "WTF was on her butt?!" Don't worry, he'll find out along with you all.)

Anyway, back to my butt. 

There was something on it. 

I reached around and touched it... (it wasn't my butthole or anything... don't get carried away... it was on the broad side of my right cheekers where all good things in life are). 

It was a mother puppy M&M. 

You would think this is the part where it would end and say, "that was my WTF moment."

It wasn't. My thought process after discovering the ass candy was WTF worthy. 

Thought 1:

Those little candy shells aren't playing. 

Seriously. They are magical. I don't have a slight ass. I don't typically move a lot in my sleep. There was no chocolate melted on my ass nor the sheets. They should make planes out of that shit! 

Melts in your mouth, not in your hand? 

Also, not on your butt! 

Thought 2: 

DAMN IT! I WANTED TO EAT THAT. 

I realize it would have ended up on my ass anyway, but I would have liked to have tasted it first, you know?!

Thought 3: 

Seriously... WTF is that candy shell made of?! I ingest that quite often. Is it digestible? 

What should have been thought 4 (but didn't occur to me right now):

How did the damn M&M get on my ass in the first place!? 

1) I aim for my mouth every time. Not my ass. 

2) I am the cheapest person on the planet. Wasting even one M&M pisses me off. 

3) I have a deep love and admiration for peanut butter M&Ms... I keep an eye on them. 

How in the hell did that happen? 

And how in the hell did I not notice ALL NIGHT?! 

Folks is tired round these parts. Real. Damn. Tired. 

Have you ever found an M&M on your butt?

WTF Wednesday: Doctoral Degree

I started my doctoral program this week. As dorky as I am, it is very exciting. I find some of the readings will be fascinating and writing 20+ page papers doesn't really freak me out much. 

But did you notice I said "some" readings? 

Reading for educational purposes makes my eyes close. For real. 

I can't do it for long periods of time. Heck, I'm not fantastic at it for 10 minutes at a time without having 14 "SQUIRREL!!!" breaks. 

When I was getting my master's degree, I figured out that if I walked while I read, my chances at falling asleep were minimal (though I did test the boundaries of this probability many times). 

I would either go walk the track and read, walk on the treadmill and read, or just walk around the apartment. And it worked! 

Which is why I now have a treadmill at home. You remember the story.

After my first class on Monday night, it sunk in just how much walking I'm about to do. And as the cheapest person on the planet, I haven't bought a pair of tennis shoes in a very, very long time. 

Want proof? 

I wore these to the kickball tournament the other night because I couldn't find the "new" tennis shoes my sister had given me when she was tired of them. 

Yup. Those are Asics. From high school. 

I bet your shoes can't change colors. That's all I'm saying. 

So after class on Monday I realized I needed 1) a book bag and 2) tennis shoes. 

For once in my life, I sprung for brand new shoes because I wanted to see just exactly how much damage I could do to them using them exclusively for reading class material/dissertation material. 

So here is the before shot!  

In about 5 years or so, check back and I'll do the after shot in my gown! Don't think I'm playing! 

WTF Wednesday: My Husband and My Fat Ass

Have you ever said something you regretted? 

You know, you said it, and then it was like, "Well shit. Its out there now. No take-backsies." 

And now that it is out there, you desperately want to make it better, so you immediately make it worse by CONTINUING TO TALK.... 

This has never happened to me but MAN did it happen to my husband the other day! 

I work on a college campus... with kids who live on campus... 

Translation: August is the hell you love to hate and hate to love. It is a beautiful, awful little beast. I both live for it and loathe it. 

On top of that, we've had a lot of changes and stress and just stuffs going on so the stress was REAL last week. Big ole nasty understatement. 

My husband was home for the 2.5 seconds he has been over the summer and was headed to the store. I was going on about my day and the stresses and woes that came with it... and then I said, "Unrelated... I need you to get me some Diet Dr. Pepper and the biggest bag of peanut butter M&Ms you can find."

His dumbass says, "Ohhhh... Rikki... if I get you those, you'll get chubby."

Oh no he didn't. 

Oh yes, Ryan Gosling, he did. 

I said, "Excuse me?! I've eaten them all summer and I haven't gotten chubby yet."

He says (direct quote here), "Are you sure?"

AM I SURE?!?!?! 

AM I SURE?!?!?!?!

I said, "What the hell is that supposed to mean? Am I sure? Are you sure who you are talking to right now? Are you sure you want to live another day to spend with your fat ass wife? Am I sure?"

Just when you think it can't get any worse... he says, "You haven't even gained one pound? Really?"

He must have caught the dumb in St. Louis. I wanted to donkey kick him right in the taint. Too bad I was on the phone with him at the time or I just might have.

Here is a list of things I said to him for the rest of the mother puppy night...  because bless his heart, he had it coming... 

• Well one thing is for sure, you won't be getting any of this fat ass tonight.
  
• (as I was walking away from him) Look away. I don't want my jiggly ass to spoil your appetite.
  
• I had plans on being on top tonight, but I don't want to crush you.
  
• Am I allowed to have cheese dip tonight? I promise to only have a serving size so I don't add to the peanut butter donk I have.
  
• Nevermind, no cheese dip for me. I'll just eat grass from the backyard. 

And so much more. To the point he was getting pretty annoyed. To which I replied, "Well at least you aren't too fat. Do me a favor and grease my saddle bags so I can get into the shower." 

I always have all the sympathy. 

In his defense, he was worried about my cholesterol and overall health. And he repeatedly backtracked and apologized. But at this point, it was fun for me. 

If you are a guy reading this, here is the appropriate answer to your wife/girlfriend/anyone with a vagina requesting chocolate... 

"Of course, honey! But, what if they don't have a five gallon tub? You know what, never mind, I'll get all they have on the shelves and help you eat it. Would you like to watch the Notebook tonight?"

I don't like the Notebook even a little bit, but play the odds folks. 

Never... and I do mean NEVER... insinuate that she may get fat or she isn't aware of how fat she has gotten. If she is anything like me, she will NEVER let you live it down. 

Huh, Justin? 

I mean... WTF?

WTF Wednesday: Old Men at McDonalds

Since I'm on vacation this week, I decided to treat Sam to breakfast at McDonald's this morning. He loves getting a "patty" (read: sausage mcmuffin, no cheese) and he really likes eating it inside. 

He picked the table right beside the obligatory table of old white men having their coffee in the morning. 

#ugh

Not that I don't love me some old people, but when you are in a small town in Arkansas, you can just expect that this liberal lady is going to have some major eye roll situations arise. 

Did you know that one of these old men's doctor had the nerve to retire and hand his case over to that little "foreign girl"? 

Did you know that "foreign girls" have no place in medicine? 

Did you know that once you start taking cholesterol medicine, you can never stop? 

Did you know that the Vietnam War is what ruined this country? 

Did you know that since the "colored folks" started getting into politics the world is now coming to an end? 

Do you know what the German word for "bra" is? 

Stopemfromfloppen

(okay that one was kind of funny)

It took everything in me to keep my mouth shut and pretend I wasn't hearing this garbage. 

Don't think racism is alive today? Pick any McDonald's in a small town and just listen to the men. Their theories on the world are enough to make any sane person develop a bit of an eye twitch. 

I realize I'm liberal and I'm disappointed with Hobby Lobby and SCOTUS, and I don't believe in torture, and I live under this far-fetched assumption that smart people get things done no matter what equipment is in their pants or what color the package is... but OH MY PRECIOUS FRIED DONUTS I couldn't get out of there fast enough! Damn me for believing in the womens and the races and thinking we should be good people!

Man, what an ass am I?! 

Peace out. I have to clean my house now... like a good woman. 

WTF Wednesday: The Gremlin Has a Death Wish

My son is an evil genius. This is not news. (And this post was supposed to be up yesterday but that's just how my day went.)

But due to recent events, this was a conversation I had with the hubs sperm donor (I will refer to nothing related to my hell-child demon spawn with love for the entirety of this post) earlier today.

Me: He tried that shit again at Susan's?

Sperm donor: God bless us if we can get this kid behind something that matters in life. Because if he decides he wants to be bad... we are screwed.

Me: He does look cute in orange.

But what did he do, Rikki? What could possibly be the problem? 

He's like a cute little Gremlin when it gets wet... 

He's all sweet and cuddly and, "Give me all your hugs and kisses." 

Then... when you are least expecting it... he goes for the kill. 

It started when he got sick and we let him sleep downstairs with us. 

He made all the right faces and said all the right things... and bless his sick little heart, he needs to be by his mommy when he is sick. 

Around this time is when I assume the angry hobo with bad breath moved in upstairs. 

Because ever since then he has BEGGED and PLEADED and MANIPULATED his way to sleeping downstairs. 

On Monday he had a small fever and complained of his ears hurting. This is probably legit because I definitely ignored these cries over the weekend (mom of the year, I know) (but also he manipulates to get what he wants and since he is a proven little terrorist, forgive me for not trusting him). 

I went to pick him up. On the way to pick him up I was informed his stomach was cramping and he was about to throw up. 

Gremlins are messy little shits. 

I got him home and he damn near turned cartwheels out of the car. 

That was my first clue he was playing me. 

My second clue was him begging me to jump on the trampoline and asking when he could get treats. 

We had a come to Jesus meeting where I calmly firmly explained that sick little boys eat applesauce and toast and do nothing fun but lay down.  

Gremlin: "Oh yeah." And then laid down. 

That night he begged to sleep downstairs. What if he threw up? He would need his mommy. 

And we took the bait. 

Tuesday morning he woke up and said, "I think we need to cancel today. My belly hurts." Then he started to cry. 

I was already dressed and ready for work. And I love my job. I don't take "mental health" days and I certainly don't fake sick days. Never have. 

And I knew he was playing me. But I also knew that if I was wrong, I'd feel like the giantest jackass in a red state and so I could take this opportunity to teach him a lesson. 

Life was so boring and bland to him by 11:30 am that I finally got him to admit he was lying to me. 

 
Anger seethed through my body like stiffed drug dealer on tax day. 

I chanted to myself, "Thou shalt not beat thy child. Thou shalt not beat thy child." 

And I vowed to make it the worst sick day he has ever experienced. 

"Lay down, Sam. You're too sick to play." 

"But I'm not sick." 

"Horseshit you aren't. I stayed home to take care of my sick son so lay your tootie down and rest." 

Gremlin: "Can I have a snack?" 

Me: Sick kids don't get snacks. Sick kids eat applesauce and toast. 

Gremlin: Can I sit with you momma? 

Me: No. I don't want to catch your sickness. 

Whatever I could, I used it. And he was not having any fun (as he told me multiple times). 

And then the little spawn of Satan did it... HE FAKED MORE STOMACH CRAMPS! 

He's lucky he didn't get a swirly. 

He acted so pitiful. He stuck his lip out. He asked to go sit by the toilet. 

Then he asked to sleep downstairs. 

WHISKEY TANGO FOXTROT!

At that point I just got mean. 

Me: You are lying. I don't like kids who lie. Get away from me with your lying face. 

Stuff like that. And he admitted to lying. Again. 

And then like the dumbass parents we are, we agreed to let him sleep downstairs one more night on agreeable terms. He could either: 

1) Sleep upstairs and get to have candy and cartoons the next day. 

or 

2) Sleep downstairs and not get candy and cartoons. Also, he had to sleep upstairs the next night with no fight. 

He chose option 2 (for non poker folks that means he called our mother puppy bluff). 

Shit. 

He woke up this morning and wanted a cartoon. 

Me: Nope. 

Gremlin: SCREAMING*CRYING*RABIDMONKEYANTICS

Me: Get away from me with that drama. 

(LOTS MORE DRAMA)

Gremlin: YOU HURT MY FEELINGS!

Me: I'm going to hurt more than your feelings if you don't knock it off. 

Gremlin: *throwsclothesaroundinafitofrage*

Sperm Donor: *stepsintosavesonslife* Sit your butt down on those stairs and knock it off. Next step is a spanking. 

*quieter drama*

Sperm donor leaves. Gremlin refuses hugs. 

Sperm donor drives away. 

Gremlin loses his God forsaken mind and attempts another fit (because he wanted an apple and not a banana). 

Momma lays the smack down. 

Gremlin cries all the way to Susan's. 

Gremlin eats banana. 

This is why Momma drinks. 

WTF Wednesday: Mean People

I haven't blogged in a while and I'm sorry for that. I know all 12 of you were hanging on the edge of your seats wondering where I went. 

I may be a bit sparse in the coming weeks but I will do my best to pop in every once in a while. If any bloggers want to trade interview questions and swap, holla atcha girl! 

Today, I'd like to feature mean people. 

Dear Mean People of the World, 

WTF is wrong with you? Stop being being mean. It is unbecoming and it is a quick way to get pushed down the stairs if you catch me on a bad day. I have a bit of a tolerance problem for bullshit. 

Just be nice. If this is too hard for you I will gladly walk around and slap you with a sack full of bar soap every time you do something mean. Consider it my gift to society. 

Sincerely, 

The rest of society


I mean, for real though. Tornadoes just ripped through Arkansas. Utter devastation across the state. And then there are jackasses posting on Facebook about how the weathermen blew it out of proportion and they need to stop over-exaggerating the weather. 

Umm... 18 people died! I think they nailed that shit on the head. And also, from the perspective of someone who lost people in the tornado, you look like a giant douche canoe who thinks the world revolves around them. How's about your get your ass down here and help your fellow man instead of bitching that you didn't get to catch your show that night. 

Also, if you take pictures of people without them knowing and then post them on the internet so others can mock them... you are a bastard. Those are real people with real feelings and you just exploited that because you have a superiority complex. 

Finally, what is the deal with "one-uppers"? If someone tells you something that they did well... CELEBRATE WITH THEM! Don't point out how you did that before and you did it better than they did. Chances are if you are shallow enough to make that type of leap, you weren't that good anyway! If you can't earn the praise you desire, then just do better. Don't steal the joy of other people because you are mediocre. 

As you can tell, I have some thoughts on these issues. The moral of the story is simple. 

Just be nice.

Think about the people you like to be around. Typically they make you feel better about yourself in some way. 

Now think about the people you don't like to be around. They typically make you feel bad about yourself in some way. 

Which category do you want to be in?

WTF Wednesday: Pre-Dyed Eggs

Pre. Dyed. Easter. Eggs. 

What the flub? 

Is this real life? Are we really this lazy? 

Since this rant isn't about a magical human sized bunny that shits eggs to celebrate the resurrection of Jesus... let's just fly on past that subject. 

If you aren't into boiled eggs... there is this magical subsitution for you... they are called plastic eggs. 

Plastic eggs come in a variety of shapes, sizes, and color combinations. If you do not care for plain blue eggies, take the top off of some pink ones and mix and match those bad boys. 

No dying. No stinky egg smell. No rotten stank when you find one under your couch in three months. 

#winning

But if you prefer the boiled egg route, then, I don't know... 

DYE THE DAMN EGGS! 

That's the fun, yo! 

Share in the magical moment with child as they watch the eggs change colors! 

Who buys boiled eggs as treats for their children?!?! 

I don't know a kid out there that would choose a boiled egg over a plastic egg with candy goodness inside. 

Hell, shove some raisins in that plastic vessel and I'm still pretty sure the kids are going to choose that. 

So what is the point of BUYING dyed eggs. 

If you are dying the eggs... you are either being CHEAP (which I'm not judging on that... see Thrifty Thursday thread) or you are sharing the experience with your child. 

I'm pretty sure that magical experience with your child is not showing them that you can purchase colorful eggs from the grocer like any hobo off the street with $3. 

That's not magic. It is commerce. 

Veruca Salt wouldn't even fall for that shit if you told her it was pooped out by a unicorn. 

Folks.

WTF Wednesday: Who the Hell is Lucy?

This post takes a bit of prep work but if you are into creepy shit kids say, hang around for it. 

 When I was pregnant with Sam but we didn't know if he was a he or a she, I asked my then 3 year old niece, Rylee, what I should name the baby. 

She said, "Lucy." 

I said, "Well what if it is a boy?"

She said, "Sam." 

The creepy part of that was my grandpa, Sam, died when I was in 4th grade. She didn't know that or his name. My sister and I have always missed him dearly but never really talk about him or his name. 

I was thrilled when Justin said we could name him Sam if he was a boy because it was meaningful in so many ways. 

Fast forward to creepy conversations with Sam. 

Sam has never heard that story. He knows Rylee wanted to name him Sam but that's about it. 

We were going to Walmart the other day, and Sam says, "Mom, I need to buy my sister a present." 

I said, "Your sister? Who is your sister?"

He said, "Lucy." 

He proceeded to tell me he met her in heaven and she isn't allergic to peanut butter like he his so she'd really like some peanut butter and she likes healthy food too so we could get her some of that. 

And I'm still here going,

"WTF?!?!?! WHO IS LUCY!?!?!?!" 


No, I'm not pregnant. No, I've never had a miscarriage. 

But if I do get pregnant and it is a girl, I'm not sure I'll tempt the gods by not naming her Lucy. 

What's the creepiest thing your kid has ever said?

WTF Wednesday: The Many Uses of Disposable Panties

Surely you didn't miss the Disposable Panty post, did you? If so, brush up on your knowledge here before continuing on.

After this discovery of disposable panties and the uncontrollable urge to buy them, I decided to see how else they could benefit the world.

Sit back and judge enjoy.

ONE: Disposable Panty

Modeled here by yours truly, this is the product you are working with. They are elastic edged, however, they only stretch so far so I'm not sure what "free-size" means. Also, putting them on top of jeans does give the illusion you have a hint of a penis.


TWO: Face Mask

Tracy is modeling here the "traditional" face mask. But if you are into a bit creepier look...

I am modeling the "put the lotion in the basket" model here. Either way will keep the bad breathies in and the bad germies out.

THREE:Stylish Hair Accessories

You can't go wrong with a disposable panty headband. It is pink. It is fluffy. And frankly, it looks good on you. But if you aren't a headband girl, that's okay. 

You can use it a scrunchy! I know they haven't been popular in about 20 years or so, but retro is SO IN right now. 


FOUR: Protective Shoe Booties

 

We have all been there. You walk into an establishment and your shoes stick to the floor. This is a problem no longer! Keep a pack of disposable panties handy and they can rescue your shoes from the stickies. 

FIVE:  Laptop Screen Protector

Leaving for a bit? Slip on a disposable panty laptop cover and keep most of your screen protected! 

SIX: Over the Shoulder Boulder Holder

We've all been there. Ran out of the house and forgot the bra... no problem if you are packing some extra disposable panties! They secure your breasts and make all of you (winky face) a bit more perky. 

SEVEN: Coffee cup heat protector

Sometimes Starbucks gets a little over-zealous with the coffee heat, am I right? Disposable panties to the rescue! Simply wrap one around your cup and tie in a knot! Now your hands are protected, and let's face it, it looks fantastic. 

EIGHT: Hands Free Cell Phone Device

Bluetooth is for chumps! Just wrap a disposable panty around your head and it nestles your phone lovingly to your ear! It is practical, stylish, and will show your boss your originality and ingenuity.

NINE: Get-Along Device

You've seen the get along shirt. But I present to you the "get-along panty." 

You may start off afraid of each other, but you will end up... 

happy to be in the get along panties together... 


TEN: 50 Shades of Bondage

The right panty can really bring the right amount of kink to the bedroom and this panty is no different. A few twists around the wrist and your partner will be bound and thrilled... you're welcome. 


Do you have any other uses for this genius invention?