Thursday, December 30, 2010

I am the whitest person you know.


So, I was at the grocery store a little while ago. I was wandering down the paper goods aisle, squeezing the Charmin and generally minding my own business when I heard the song that was playing from the overhead speakers.

I couldn't make out most of the words, but from what I could decipher it seemed to be mostly about getting drunk on champagne. And then the chorus played.

Now I'm feelin' so fly like a cheese stick
Like a cheese stick, Like a cheese stick
Now I'm feelin' so fly like a cheese stick
Like a cheese stick, Like a cheese stick
Now I'm feelin' so fly like a cheese stick


And that's when this white girl got very, very confused.

I realize that I'm not hip or cool or down with what the kids these days are saying (are kids these days even saying hip, cool and down?), but I'm pretty sure cheese sticks aren't hip or cool. I'm also pretty sure that they're not fly.

If I were to make an educated guess, I would probably think that saying you were "feelin' fly like a cheese stick" might be a clever way of making fun of people like me. Cheese stick--it's the new cracker!

Anyway, I was deeply disturbed by this cheese stick song all the way home.

Yeah, soooo...it's not cheese stick.

(Be sure to pause the BeeGees over there on the right before you play the video. Yeah, I have the BeeGees on my playlist. So what? They're totally fly... like a cheese stick!)




See? It totally sounds like cheese stick!

Also, I have no idea what a G6 is. I'm such a cheese stick.

Monday, December 27, 2010

I'm pretty sure Elvis will somehow be involved.



So, internets, remember last January and The Weekend of Awesome? No? Well go read that link, then. Geez people.

Anyway, The Weekend of Awesome is happening again this year, but it will be in March instead of January, and instead of being on the beach in North Carolina, it will be in Las Vegas!

So, if you're interested in coming along and you don't have a penis, e-mail me. I need a final head count, oh...like yesterday.

A few details:

-The dates are March 21st through March 25th (That's Monday through Friday, so it will be the WEEK of Awesome this year).

-It's going to cost approximately $120 total for your portion of the house rental (The more people who come, the less it will cost).

-It will be a large private house with several bedrooms and bathrooms and probably a pool. I can't choose a house definitely until I know how many it needs to accommodate.

-If we do the food like last year, it will cost about $30-$40 total for the week.

-NO KIDS ALLOWED. I do this to escape my own kids. I certainly don't want to deal with yours. Nursing mothers can of course bring their infants, however you should keep in mind that we will be in Las Vegas, and that means you will be toting your nursing infant on the strip. But, I suppose your stroller would be a handy place to store all those nudie show and whore house flyers that will be thrust at you.

-You will be sharing a bedroom, and unless you bring an air mattress, you will be sharing a queen size bed.

-I will set a deadline for commitment, and will base the cost of the house on that number, so once you commit, you are responsible for payment of your portion EVEN IF YOU CANCEL. Otherwise, I will be stuck footing your portion of the bill, and as much as I love you all, I don't have the money for that. (Telling me right now that you want to come is NOT a commitment. I'll verify everything with you personally before you'd become responsible for payment).

-Payment will be due in full in mid February (specific date to be determined soon).

-Obviously the costs listed do NOT include your travel expenses.

O.K., I think that's it. If you want in on this, I need to know NOW.
My e-mail address is on the right, near the top.

Saturday, December 25, 2010

A Very Douglass Christmas II

I just realized that it's been a couple of years since I did this. So, without further ado, I present for your Christmas viewing pleasure the Douglasses through the years! Behold the awesomeness that is my bad hair and fluctuating weight! Also, I want you to keep in mind that these are the best shots we got every year. That means there are worse versions of each of these pictures. Hard to believe, but it's true.



1997, married 6 months



1998, we added a cat



1999, we added a kid



Our 2000 picture is lost somewhere in cyberspace. So, here's Will in 1982 instead.



2001, Germany



2002, Germany



2003, Germany (are you detecting a pattern here?)
By the way, I was knocked up in this picture but didn't know it yet. So it's technically Liam's first Christmas picture.



2004--Will was in Germany. Ben, Liam and I were at my parents'. Liam was only 3 months old and recovering from open heart surgery. So, this was the best I could manage.



2005, we'd added TWO kids
Geez Louise, I look like the poster child for postpartum depression.



Bonus: me in 1977.



2006, Maryland



2007, Will was deployed and we spent Christmas with my family. I guess I didn't take one in front of the tree that year either.



2008, Georgia



2009, Georgia



2010, Tennessee
I'm pretty sure the phrase, "Smile or get beat"
was uttered at some point during this photo shoot.


Merry Christmas!!




Thursday, December 23, 2010

Thursday Morning Confessions


1. Sometimes I wish I lived in my Christmas village.

2. I have successfully been ignoring the fact that Will leaves in threeish weeks. If I don't think about it, it won't happen, right?

3. Your Christmas cards? I throw them away. It's not that I don't like getting them--I do. But I don't keep them. Sorry.

4. I have a zit on my back that's so large I should probably name it and claim it as a dependent on my taxes.

5. I'm only blogging right now so I can put off my enormous to-do list for a few minutes longer.

6. I vowed that I would stick to my regular wake up at 5, work out at 8, in bed by 10 schedule during vacation. Instead, I have been waking up at 7, working out when and if I feel like it, and haven't been to bed before midnight.

7. I put money instead of candy in the last three drawers of our advent calendar this year. The kids all whined and traded their money for candy.

8. I haven't the foggiest idea how to cook the ham for the Christmas Eve dinner we're hosting tomorrow.

9. I kind of want to get a cat.

10. Re-watching Battlestar Galactica isn't as much fun when you know who all the Cylons are.

Monday, December 20, 2010

The Christmas Letter

Really, we weren't even trying. We're just naturally that screwed up.


Dear Family, Friends and Internet Stalkers,

This has been an exciting year for the Douglass family! Most exciting, of course, was our move from redneck infested rural Georgia to the hillbilly riddled Tennessee/Kentucky state line. It's been really great so far. We're much closer to a Wal-Mart now, and the skanks around here are at least 30% skankier! Also, some of the gas stations on the Kentucky side have topless dancers and electronic gambling after 10 pm! And toddlers are totally allowed to participate! Really, it's like we're living the American dream.

Amelia turned five this year and started kindergarten. She had a rough start, and for a while there we were pretty worried that she was going to have to spend her life getting by on her looks. But, through the miracle of threats and bribery, she has learned to read. She loves Barbies and drawing, and like her mother, is showing a real affinity for telling others how they should be living their lives.

Liam started first grade this year. We just couldn't be more proud of how he managed to not get expelled, despite being suspended eleven times in the first nine weeks of school. We discovered that the combination of bad parenting, video games, television and processed foods had caused him to suffer from ADHD. But, not to worry! We now have him amply drugged to get through the day and he's doing wonderfully! He's currently really into Indiana Jones, and spends much of his free time running around in a hat and whip killing all the Nazis.

Speaking of Nazis, Ben started middle school this year and became a full fledged tween. We found out that he has a higher IQ than both Einstein and Hitler, which has really motivated him to try even harder to fail all his classes. I'm happy to report that he has been mostly successful in that endeavor. A few B's and even an A kept him from his goal, but I'm sure he can bring those down to at least a low D next semester. He also scored the lead part in the middle school play, and decided he loves acting and would even like to pursue acting as a career! We are so looking forward to the proud day when we can read about his scandals in Us Weekly. Ben's other interests this year have included growing out his hair like Justin Bieber while simultaneously professing that Bieber is "gay" and "retarded."

Will started off the year by becoming a Warrant Officer in the US Army. This means more money in his paycheck that he's not allowed to spend, and the privilege of being superior to all the enlisted military members everywhere. The biggest news for Will is that he will be deploying to Afghanistan next month. There he will spend a year playing computer games, watching movies, napping, not dealing with his three children and not having sex. So, basically just like home. Except now that Don't Ask Don't Tell has been repealed, there will probably be a lot of really fabulous parties over there. I won't lie. I'm a little jealous.

The biggest event for me this year was getting a tummy tuck. I had several pounds of flesh removed from my abdomen, which I immediately replaced with jalapeno chips and chocolate. I spend most of my days thinking up ways to not kill my children, talking to my friends who live in my computer and generally offending everyone with the things I write here. This year I also discovered the joys of texting, so now I have another way to avoid interacting with real, live people. I have also managed to not become addicted to Valium or porn, and to not get excommunicated. So, all in all I consider it a successful year!

And remember, "Happy Holidays" is what the terrorists say.
So, Merry Christmas from The Douglasses

Thursday, December 16, 2010

Clearly Santa sees more than I do.

So, I just overheard Amelia singing "Santa Claus is Coming to Town." She apparently has her own version.

He's sees you when you're sleeping. He knows when you're awake. He sees you when you pick your nose and eat it. He knows when you steal Liam's toys. He knows when you don't flush the toilet. He sees you when you hide your toys under the bed. He sees you when you pinch Nick at school. He knows when you throw your whole lunch away. So be good for goodness sake! Santa Claus is cooooooming to toooown!

In other news, Liam would like to wish you all a feliz navidad.

Or, umm, a fleasnobe dod!








Tuesday, December 14, 2010

It's genetic.


THIS:



PLUS
THIS:




EQUALS THIS:


LiamGeek from Brandi Douglass on Vimeo.

(The tongue thing? That's from my side of the family. My grandmother did it. Some of her siblings do it. And every candid picture of me proves that I do it, which is why I delete them all and have none to show you here.)

Poor kid, he never stood a chance.

Monday, December 13, 2010

You guys are kind of hilarious.

So, here we go. The winner of the Scrapgate 2010 Scrapoff!

There were five entries, and all five made me laugh. A lot. A few of my minions and I deliberated and chose our favorite.

First, the runner-ups (Or is it runners-up? Whatever.):


From AndSuchAs


WARNING: The next entry has some "inappropriate" language, so if you don't want to see it, scroll really fast to number three.









From Elisa




From Alex




From Mariska
(Mariska, this was neck and neck for 1st place)



And the WINNER!

From Ellerby.

Ellerby, e-mail me your address and I'll send you a Christmas ornament. A nice one, too. Not just one of those colored balls that come 12 to a pack for 99 cents. Although that would be kind of funny of that's all I sent.




Sunday, December 12, 2010

Same old argument.


So, a friend sent me a transcript of a conversation she had on Facebook. It raises the same argument that women have been having for nearly 40 years now: Which is harder--having a career outside the home, or being a full time homemaker? Is being a homemaker the same as having a "real" job?

Here's the conversation (printed exactly as it was on Facebook, so don't get all up in my junk about spelling and grammar errors.):

Susan High-ho, high-ho, it's off to work I go.....(does it count even if I don't leave the house?)


Andrea

Yes, it does! Being a mom is the hardest job on earth! I don't care what ANYONE else says. :)


Susan

I agree! ;) Being a mom you wear SO many hats - your to-do list is never empty!


Claudia

If you have really been out in the work force you would not think that- try answering to a lot of people and having to do things their way, back stabbers, unfair bosses, mean busy- body co-workers, just the daily grind! Studies show people that work are more stressed with more stressed related health problems than anyone else!


Susan

Still, I'd like to see any of them handle a two year old, a one year old and two newborns - all four in diapers - single handed - with no help except a husband after regular business hours. Oh, and this is with a c-section! :D It was rougher than any work experience I've ever had or known of! LOL (and I was in a job where I got hives daily from the stress, previously!)


Claudia

Noted! I guess everyone has their own personal he..!


Susan

WOW! I don't think this is my personal hell! I love my 'job'. I *choose* to stay home with my children and provide for them. It has it's rough spots, but it's certainly not something I would give up or change! I guess what I really want to point out, is that unless you've seen both sides of the fence - working out of the home in the workforce, and working IN the home - providing for a growing family of children, you can't sit and judge. I don't think being a mother is any less difficult than many jobs out in the workforce. And I certainly don't value it any less!


Laurie

I say it still counts!


Laurie

Susan! couldn't agree more


Kellye (sister of Claudia)

I can tell you that having a CAREER, not a JOB, and supporting yourself is very difficult, but very rewarding. I know I don't have to depend on someone else to give me money and that's important to me. Also, there is education that must be obtained and just getting up everyday and answering to so many people is very stressful. You can't get fired at home, you can at work. We all choose what we want in life. I know changing diapers all day would not be my scene, but I have it to hand to those who want to.


Susan

Kellye, while I understand your coming to your sister's defense - neither of you have an understanding of caring for children 24/7. Yes, it's difficult and rewarding. A career is "A chosen pursuit, The general course or progression of one's working life, A path or course, as of the sun through the heavens." I believe Motherhood is my chosen CAREER. Yes, my husband and I agreed that he would be financially responsible for our family, and I would take care of things at home - this calls for many compromises and sacrifices that allow us to give the best possible home for our children. He doesn't "give me money". We share one income - I work for it, too, just in a different capacity.

Yes, mothers need to be educated in many areas - perhaps more than some areas required for a specific career or job. Answering to so many young children and a husband is stressful. I never get a day off. I don't get paid vacation - I work on our vacation days. I never get a sick day. I'm always a mother. And, I want to add - yes, I can get fired - it's called Divorce (being fired as a wife) and the potential to lose my children if they are not cared for properly.

We do choose what we want in life. I agree. I worked long and hard and endured many heartbreaking years trying to have a family. I am not bitter about the choices I made. I know after my retirement (when all my children move out), I will still have my coworkers (family) checking in, caring about what is going on in my life. I love working with my family. This is the best career I could wish for!

I'm glad you realize changing diapers isn't your scene - that's probably a good thing to know. No one *wants* to change diapers - but we choose to take on the unpleasurable aspects of the job because of the great rewards we reap as mothers. What a divine calling!


Angela

You are a mom 24/7 you can't call in sick like a reg job you can't qiut no matter how bad you would like 2. STRESS we invented the word Education well we did have jobs before and some are going back to school and staying at home. It is a blessing to be able to raise your own kids rather than PAY some stranger to raise them. Our career is a job just unpaid satisfaction knowing you are rasing your kids the best you can and Yes it does get crazy but it is our own crazy. I have been in the military and worked as a surgical tech and thoght that difficult at times but being a mom has yet to be the hardest I have done and will be my greastes accomplishment


Kellye

I'm not coming to anyone's defense - certainly not my sister's because her views don't need defending! Also, I would've written first - she just happened to comment before I did! Obviously we aren't going to agree and that's fine. We all have our own sets of values and things that we think are important. Some people think education, higher learning and a successful career is important, some don't, but that's ok too. I think it all depends on what we were taught as children. I just know from personal experience that women have to know how to support themselves and their children. Marriages don't always last - men leave and they die. Life isn't always rosy. Glad you're so happy!


Angela

Oh life aint always easy and if my husband did pass i would be able to get a job and support my family and duh that's whats life insurance is for 2!!!


Susan

I apologize for thinking you came to her defense. I stand corrected. :)

I really don't understand why I was attacked for making such an innocuous statement! This has really been blown out of proportion!

Yes - we all have our own sets of values and I feel secure that I am putting the correct priorities at the front of my life. Since a youth, I've wanted to be a mother - and worked hard to accomplish that goal! It's ok if these same priorities aren't the same for you - I can agree to disagree, but I still think I'm doing what the Lord would want me to do.

Most married women and mothers that I know aren't oblivious and uneducated. They know things happen. We've all seen it happen to friends and acquaintances. We know to be prepared. I'm educated, and feel sure I could obtain a job to pay the bills should something happen to my husband's job, or to his life, or our marriage. One of the ways we have prepared is, as the previous poster said, through life insurance. We are covered for our family's needs to allow us to do what is necessary to become self sufficient. We sacrifice now to pay that bill to assure us of assistance should the unhappy need arise.

I hope that we can let this issue rest. I never posted anything negative towards working women, and don't appreciate being told I don't work, or have a job or career, or however someone wants to say it. I never posted the original status to start a controversy! I work hard. I know that, and any other mother can also attest to working hard!

I know the Lord knows where my heart lies, my husband and children are loved, and I am blessed! I hope everyone has a great day!


Karen

wow, I wonder if every woman who is a mother posted this as her status, would they get the same responses. I'll be posting it. . .


Kellye

Oh - that's right, insurance, how silly of me! That must be why women never have a hard time supporting their children, and why they never go on welfare, live in poverty, etc. It was all my years seeing this as a social worker that fooled me!!


Susan

Kellye - I'm not saying ALL women are prepared, I'm saying that WE are prepared. We are following what the Prophet would want us to do. Please don't put us down for it.

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

So, where do you guys stand?

I'm somewhere in the middle. I hated working with a passion, and maybe that's because I wasn't in a rewarding career that I enjoyed. I was glad to quit once we had Ben. On the other hand, there are days that I hate being home. I get lonely. I miss having interaction with other adults. My kids are as annoying as any obnoxious co-worker. So, I don't know. I do like being able to nap when I want. And no one is going to fire me if I decide to read blogs all day instead of cleaning bathrooms.

Basically, this is my approach to work:



But anyway, I don't see it as something to fight about. We all make our choices, and we all live with them. As they say, the grass is always greener...

One thing I know for sure--I think the hardest job is having to work outside the home and also run a home and care for children. I don't think anyone can argue with that.

Anyway, I thought the whole exchange was interesting. (And fun trivia fact: Kellye and Claudia unfriended Susan that evening. Even better fun trivia fact: At the time of this conversation, Claudia was Susan's Relief Society President. For those who don't know what that is, Claudia was charged with the spiritual and temporal welfare of all the women in her church congregation. Regardless of one's opinions on the topic of working mothers, I think we can all agree that Claudia's approach was less than Christian.)

So, what do you think, internets? Is there a right or wrong here?

Friday, December 10, 2010

Oh, the irony.

So, in the midst of Scrapgate 2010, I happened to look around the room in which I compose this here little blog.

And this is what I saw.


Innocuous enough at first glance.



But when you look closer you see all this.
Modgepodge. Thirty-five different types of edging scissors.
Stickers. Glue dots, tape pens and other fancy adhesives.
Rubber stamping stuff. X-Acto knives. Decorative embellishments.



Cardstock scraps. Rub-ons. Various sheets of letter stickers.
Fancy paper punches. Brads. Wire. Beads. Embossing supplies.



Important papers or bills, you might be thinking? Nope.
Trays and trays of cardstock arranged by color.



And the most damning of all.
Hundreds and hundreds of 12x12 sheets of SCRAPBOOK PAPER.


No, I don't scrapbook, but I do craft. And I do have kids who like to get creative with paper and glue. I do get suckered into making things for various church assignments. (And for the record, I only bought about about a quarter of this stuff. The rest was given to me by scrapbookers who wanted to lighten their load a little.)

Anyway, after all the fuss about my dislike of scrapbooking, I thought it was kind of funny that I was surrounded by the tools of the trade.

Hobbies are great--even scrapbooking if that's your thing. It's when you do your hobby, what ever it may be, for the wrong reasons, or if doing it has negative consequences (like, you have no extra money, yet you keep buying supplies. Or you ignore your family to do it. Or you do it to try to be better than someone else. Or you have a whole blog devoted to your hobby and when some other blogger writes a post about not liking your hobby, you write a mean spirited blurb with a link to said blog post on your hobby blog, but that link allows me the blogger who doesn't like your hobby to find your e-mail address and home address and place of employment and boss' name and I the blogger who doesn't like your hobby uses it to tell your boss what you're doing at work and to send you a handmade Christmas card. Hi, Donna C.! Merry Christmas!).

Anyway, don't forget! Tonight is the deadline for entries in the Scrapgate 2010 Great Scrapoff! I have about 6 entries so far, and they're pretty good. Most people have told me that they've made their pages at scrapblog.com for free (using items that cost zero credits).

The winner will be announced Monday.

Wednesday, December 8, 2010

There goes my frakkin' book deal.


So, a friend alerted me to this article in the Salt Lake Tribune yesterday.

For those who don't want to click on it, here's the gist.

A Mormon author has written a series of Young Adult novels called The Scorch Trials. I've never read them, but I've been told they're kind of like a Mormon version of The Hunger Games (minus the excellent writing).

Deseret Book, which is the Mormon version of Barnes and Noble (minus the Erotica section), has decided not to carry the book in its stores. Here's why:

“This latest book from James Dashner contains language some of our customers would find offensive, as this book is targeted to teenagers,” said Gail Halladay, managing director of marketing at Deseret Book. “We must be careful with all the books we bring in, and we look very closely at the language in the books we carry.”

The offensive language in question?

The Scorch Trials, the story of teenagers trekking across a dystopian landscape populated by “Cranks,” includes words such as “damn” and “this sucks,” as well as the phrase “shuck it.”

I just...I can't...I'm speechless. Really, this is a level of ridiculousness I haven't seen in a while.

I just have one question, since I know many of you reading this are Mormons yourselves. What's the difference between shuck and fetch? Or flip? Or frick? Or any of the other Utah versions of that word?

Yeah, that's what I thought.

Shuck that dang crap. It sucks.

Sunday, December 5, 2010

What does the H stand for, anyway?


Today at church the teacher asked the kids, "What's another name that we call Jesus?"

Now, when you present a question like that to a bunch of kids between the ages of three and seven, you're just asking for it.

The four year-olds did not disappoint. One of them piped up with, "Steve!"

But the best was when one of the kids in my class leaned over and said, "My dad calls him Jesus H. Christ."

Thursday, December 2, 2010

This calls for a scrapoff!

So, when I wrote yesterday's post, I had a hunch that most obsessive scrapbookers were crazy. Thank you for confirming my suspicions.

Seriously--I've gotten more angry e-mail over this than I did over the sex posts and the Prop 8 post. They're just freaking scrapbooks, people!

Also, thank you reader Seana for sending me this digital scrapbook page. I don't know if it's an insult or a joke. I laughed, so I guess it doesn't matter what your intention was.


So anyway, I was thinking that maybe this should be a contest. Make a scrapbook page about me or any of your favorite stories from the blog (you can use any pictures of me you find here), e-mail it to me, and I'll send a hand selected Christmas ornament to the person whose page I like best. If you don't do digital scrapbooking, you can make a regular page and scan it in, or take a photograph of it.

Oh, and it doesn't have to be complimentary or nice in any way. You can feel free to use this page to tell me how you really feel.

O.K., so, I need to receive all entries by midnight Pacific time on Friday, December 10th. The winner will be announced on Monday the 13th.

Also, by sending in an entry, you are agreeing to let me post your creation in a blog entry. If you don't want your name used, let me know.

Wednesday, December 1, 2010

No thank you, I don't want to see your scrapbook.


So, I don't scrapbook. I have no desire to scrapbook*. I think it's a lot of time and even more money spent on something that will rarely get looked at and could be destroyed by something as simple as a spilled glass of juice.

And I'm just going to be honest here--no one but you gives a crap about 90% of the things you scrapbook. Sorry. Showing someone your scrapbooks is the modern day equivalent of forcing people to sit through your vacation slide show.

Also? When you scrapbook everything, it makes the important things seem, well...less important. Like highlighting every word in a book.

I can't remember every birthday or every Halloween or even every Christmas of my life. But I do remember the important ones.

I remember the ones worth remembering.

As I was decorating my Christmas tree this year, I realized that my ornaments are kind of like my version of a scrapbook (which is much cooler than your actual scrapbook).

I knew exactly where every ornament came from. Every single ornament on my tree has a memory attached. They've come from places we've vacationed, places we've lived. I have a "Baby's First Christmas" for all of my kids. I have my own Baby's First Christmas ornament. I have exquisite and expensive Venetian glass ornaments, and I have pipe cleaners with eyes glued to them. I have ornaments given to me by friends over the years, going back to seventh grade.

So I guess my point is, memories are wonderful, but you don't need to spend hours and enormous sums of money on supplies to create elaborate books to remember. And not every single event in life is special. Sometimes Halloween is just Halloween and it doesn't really need to be documented**. Your children will not be scarred if you don't.

I know I'm glad that I got a small box of meaningful Christmas ornaments from my mother and not a pile of scrapbooks. I think if my mother had made scrapbooks for me like many of you out there make for your kids, I would have been all, "Dammit mom. With the money you spent on these supplies we could have taken a Caribbean cruise. Twice."

O.K., so maybe I don't have a point. Maybe I just wanted to rag on scrapbookers. Either way, I feel better now. And I've probably alienated at least half of my readership.

You should go make a scrapbook layout about how I offended you.


*The exception is digital scrapbooking. That's pretty cool, and more financially responsible, and if you back it up, won't be destroyed by a wayward glass of OJ.

**I'm not talking about taking pictures. It's always nice to go back and look at long forgotten pictures. But they don't need to be in a scrapbook. Ever.

Monday, November 29, 2010

Apparently Jesus prefers stilettos.

It's that time of year, internets. Christmas music time. I love Christmas music. I love turning on the radio and hearing it, I love singing it, I love coming to my blog and hearing it. I really had to restrain myself from putting up the Christmas playlist in July a month ago.

There is one Christmas song, however, that you will never see on my playlist. (Well, two actually. I'd like to put Lonely Jew from South Park on there, but it's so riddled with F-bombs toward the end that even I couldn't in good conscience put it on the Christmas playlist. But you can totally click HERE to hear it.)

Anyway.

The one song you will never see on my playlist is that stupid Christmas Shoes song. There is nothing right about that song. Nothing.

Here, read they lyrics:

It was almost Christmas time, there I stood in another line
Tryin' to buy that last gift or two, not really in the Christmas mood

Standing right in front of me was a little boy waiting anxiously

Pacing 'round like little boys do
And in his hands he held a pair of shoes
His clothes were worn and old, he was dirty from head to toe

And when it came
his time to pay I couldn't believe what I heard him say

Sir, I want to buy these shoes for my Mama, please

It's Christmas Eve and these shoes are just her size

Could you hurry, sir, Daddy says there's not much time

You see she's been sick for quite a while

And I know these shoes would make her smile

And I want her to look beautiful if Mama meets Jesus tonight


He counted pennies for what seemed like years

Then the cashier said, "Son, there's not enough here"

He searched his pockets frantically

Then he turned and he looked at me


He said Mama made Christmas good at our house

Though most years she just did without

Tell me Sir, what am I going to do, somehow I've got to buy her these Christmas shoes

So I laid the money down, I just had to help him out

I'll never forget the look on his face w
hen he said Mama's gonna look so great

Sir, I want to buy these shoes for my Mama, please

It's Christmas Eve and these shoes are just her size

Could you hurry, sir, Daddy says there's not much time

You see she's been sick for quite a while

And I know these shoes would make her smile

And I want her to look beautiful if Mama meets Jesus tonight


I knew I'd caught a glimpse of heaven's love
as he thanked me and ran out
I knew that God had sent that little boy
to remind me just what Christmas is all about.
***

First of all, why is a kid who is too young to understand the concept of money and price tags alone in Wal-Mart (admit it--it's impossible to picture this taking place anywhere but a Wal-Mart)?

Second of all, What's up with the dad not bathing his kid? I mean, the wife is on her deathbed. The least he could do is make sure the kid is clean. You know what would make mama smile more than shoes? Knowing that her kid is going to be cared for when she's dead.

Thirdly, I feel really bad for the mother. Year after year she's gone without while her kids got great gifts and her husband, who can't even take the trash to the curb on garbage day, got all the electronic gadgets he wanted (not that I'm projecting or anything). And now she's dying and all she's going to get is a pair of whore shoes from Wal-Mart to wear when she meets Jesus.


Straight from the Christmas 2010 Wal-Mart collection.


Have you seen the kind of shoes Wal-Mart sells this time of year? And if you've ever spent more than five minutes with a child, you know that the tackier something is, the more likely they are to choose it. These are the shoes he bought for mama. I guarantee it.

Who the hell wrote this song?

Thursday, November 25, 2010

The top 10 things we're all thankful for, but won't admit.


Happy Thanksgiving, internets! I hope your day was full of unhealthy food and dysfunctional people!

I've been seeing a lot of people posting blogs and Facebook updates about what they're thankful for. Yeah, that's not so much me. I think we're all pretty grateful for family, friends, health, blah blah blah. I mean, how often do we hear of people updating their status with, "Damn, I hate being in good health and gainfully employed. I wish I could get laid off, and then maybe get cancer!"? Exactly, never.

So, I've decided to share with you the top 10 things I'm really thankful for. You're probably thankful for most of them, too, but won't admit it.


10. I'm thankful when hotel housekeeping leaves a tip envelope with the housekeeper's name on it. It makes it much easier for me to leave her a nasty note about why it is she's not getting a tip from me.

9. I'm thankful that I'm not a hoarder.

8. I'm thankful that I was smart enough not to get a pet that requires me to follow behind it picking up their steaming feces with a baggie.

7. I'm thankful I never had to sleep with a teacher for an A.

6. I'm thankful I'm not blind, because I'm pretty sure being blind would be the very worst thing ever for a germophobe. You'd never be able to see if that fork in the restaurant had food stuck to it, or if you were walking into a puddle of urine in a public restroom.

5. I'm thankful for every time Brad Pitt takes his shirt off in a movie. Except for during the first half of The Curious Case of Benjamin Button. That was not hot.

4. I'm thankful so many Mormons are addicted to porn and I'm not. If someone tries to point out my spiritual shortcomings, I can always say, "Hey, at least I'm not addicted to porn like the rest of you!"

3. I'm thankful I lived in Europe and can refer to "that time we were in Paris, " or "the Thanksgiving we flew down to Italy for the afternoon."

2. I'm thankful that I'm thinner than Oprah.

1. I'm thankful for the internet. Without it, I'd have no friends.

Wednesday, November 24, 2010

Like Swatches, for the middle aged suburbanite.


Remember Swatches? They were really popular in the late eighties, and kind of pricey (for a rubber watch), and the more popular you were, the more you owned--and wore all at once.

I only had one, which should come as a surprise to no one.

Last night I realized what the grown up, nearing middle age, living in the suburbs, raising a family equivalent has become.

These suckers:


As I walked around my neighborhood last night, it occurred to me that approximately 99.99% of the houses in my neighborhood had them. Many, many of them. One of the houses near me has 47 of them in their front yard. FORTY-SEVEN! This is not a sprawling estate. This is a 2300 square foot home on three quarters of an acre, just like all the houses in the neighborhood.


(Not my neighbors. This looks tame and classy compared to the 47 solar light house)

Having 47 of these in your yard looks just about as ridiculous as wearing five Swatches up your arm. But the difference is, no one thinks you're cooler for having more solar lights in your yard than necessary. Also? Colored ones and flashing ones do not elevate your social status in any way, shape or form.


Six. Six is the limit. If you have more than six, I suggest you seek intervention immediately.

(In the interest of full disclosure, I have four. And they came with the house. And only one actually works. So, it's like Swatches all over again.)

Sunday, November 21, 2010

Random Bits



1. Your kid's primary teacher knows all your family secrets.




2. This was on my SoBe Lifewater, and it made me laugh all evening.




3. I will never understand boys.


Yes, that would be super heroes, clone troopers, knights, Indians and dinosaurs
(oh, and Woody riding a shark) versus army men.



4. I will never understand girls.


This shark gets around. It's the same one Woody was riding earlier.


5. Green bean casserole is the best food ever created, but only if it's made completely from canned products.





Friday, November 19, 2010

Part Two

O.K., so if you didn't read yesterday's guest post from Oliver*, go read it now.

Here's part two.

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

Part the Second: A Queer, a Lesbian and their Bishop Walk into a Temple



To say I was shocked to learn that Patty is a lesbian is an understatement. Of all people, I should have been able to pick up on this. I mean, she didn't even drive a Subaru or listen to The Indigo Girls.

And then I told her that I, too, was gay.

It's hard to put what that moment felt like into words. There was joy. There were tears. There was a great feeling of relief on both our parts that we didn't have to try to find each other sexually attractive.

And then we started the process of figuring out what to do next.

We knew a few things for sure: We loved each other deeply. We wanted to live our lives together rather than apart. We wanted to follow what we believe to be God's church. We wanted to be parents and have an eternal family.

So we decided that we should get married.

I know, some of you just got really upset. I even know what you're thinking. "They won't be able to find true happiness because they're hiding their authentic selves." Or, "They should be free to find the same kind of love that heterosexuals have--love that includes sex." And I'm sure there were even a few of you who are wholly disgusted by the idea of two homosexuals doing anything like being happy, and I don't really want to entertain what your thoughts might have been. Those people should stop reading right now and go watch Bristol Palin dance, because you're not going to like the rest of this story.

Is it possible that I would be happier in a relationship with a man? Maybe. I don't know. But I'm happy now, so why does it matter?

Sex is not the be all and end all of life. Do you know how many sexless heterosexual marriages there are out there? A fricking lot.

Yes, Patty and I made the conscious decision to live a life that doesn't include sex. I know that's really hard for most people to understand, I really do. The thing is, while I'm sexually attracted to men, I've never been emotionally attracted to them. I've never desired to be in a relationship with them. And as attractive as I find men to be, I find the idea of buttsex completely ooky. It's your pooper, people. I won't share a drink with another person because there might be saliva in it. So, poopers are off the negotiating table. And don't get me started on oral sex. Yeah, that's not going in my mouth. I'm a urologist. I know where that's been.

(And right about now some of you are asking yourselves, "Well what about Patty?" Patty's story is Patty's to tell if she wants to. But I can tell you that this decision was a greater sacrifice for her.)

O.K., so back to the story.

Patty and I wanted to do this the right way. We didn't want to lie to our church. We didn't want to do something that was wrong. So, we talked to our Bishop. (For all you No-Mos, a Bishop is the clergyman for a congregation. Like a pastor.)

You want to see comedy gold? Tell your Mormon bishop that you're gay, and your fiance is a lesbian, and you want to marry each other in the temple and live a chaste life.

Of course he didn't know how to handle that. Higher ups were called in. Things were discussed. Letters were written. And in the end, they couldn't find a doctrinal reason that what we wanted was wrong. Permission was granted. To be honest, I'm shocked that Boyd K. Packer didn't drop dead from a heart attack on the spot.

{Tangent: I know some of you reading this will not be able to comprehend how two homosexuals could also so devoutly believe in the Mormon church. We just do. Sorry. That said, we do not support prop 8. Gays should be allowed to marry secularly, or in religions that do not see homosexual behavior as a sin. Also, I know the man is an apostle, but Boyd K. Packer is a jackwagon that makes me (and hermaphrodite kittens, apparently) cry. I'm glad the powers that be changed his talk, but sad that he said what he did (in conference, and in numerous talks previously) in the first place. On a somewhat related note, if I did ever leave the Mormon church, I would call myself a Homo FoMo, short for Homosexual Former Mormon. Feel free to use it. Also, my apologies to all the non mormons reading this who are all, "Who the hell is Boyd K. Packer and what is he doing with hermaphrodite kittens?" End tangent.}

So, we got married in the Washington D.C. temple. And a couple of years later we adopted our first child. A year after that, our second.

And we are happy.

We don't openly share that we are homosexuals, but neither do we actively hide it. We're realistic. We know it would be hard on our children. They both have special needs, and they don't need something else people can be cruel to them over. They will know when they are older. And they will know what love is, and though it takes many forms, it is ultimately a reflection of what God feels for us. No matter who makes our netherbelows tingle.


*Names have been changed to protect our identities. I chose Oliver because I had a childhood crush on the misfit cousin Oliver who made The Brady Bunch jump the shark. Patty chose Patty because the TV character she identified most with as a child was Peppermint Patty on The Peanuts.

Also, I want to give Brandi a big, wet, sloppy gay kiss for helping me turn my thoughts into something mildly entertaining. She can be my fag hag any day.

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

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