I'm Not Very Mature. I Blame My Dad. But You Guys Should Probably Thank Him. Cuz If It Wasn't For His Weirdness, This Whole Blog Would Probably Be More About Bibles And Housekeeping Than Kicking Hobo Ass, PMS, And Doing Stupid Stuff.

Yes, I know. I'm supposed to be telling you guys about my trip to Hawaii. And I will next week. I totally super-duper pinkie swear. And if there's one thing that all my bitches know, it's that I never go back on a pinkie swear. Unless I was drunk when I made the pinkie swear. Or if the pinkie in question had a band-aid on it. Every idiot knows that a band-aid negates the pinkie swear. There are no morons here. Right? Cuz only really geniusy people read this blog. I'm pretty damn certain about that.

I got back to Houston Wednesday Morning around 5:30 am, and that day was totally wasted cuz I was what I'm sure would have been technically classified as 99.9% Zombie. Lucky for me, none of my really Zombie Apocalypse Savvy friends saw me that day, or I would be typing this to you guys from the afterlife, after having received some sort of death-inducing trauma to the brain. Which would have really sucked some big old balls.

And yesterday was really wasted being spacey and doing things that I really can't remember. But thankfully I have some photos that are kinda jogging my memory:

This is why I didn't have time to grocery shop or make a warm healthy meal for my family. And this is why today I have one leg bruise, two hip bruises, and what I'm almost positive are 2 bruised ribs, 1 squished diaphragm, 1 busted ovary, and 1 1/2 twisted fallopian tubes. I haven't had this formally confirmed by an official Medical Doctor, but The Hub is technically a Doctor and he seems to think that what I'm saying makes total sense. Or else he's doing that not-really-listening-to-me-but-nodding-like-he's- totally paying-attention-yet-he's-actually-watching-tv-thing. One of those.

So obviously my lack of sleep and my long plane flight triggered some kind of Plank-Mania wire in my brain. And some of my friends are sending me photos of things they've planked since I posted these pics on Facebook yesterday. And some of them are pretty damn funny. So now to totally waste time until next week when I can hopefully focus long enough to write about my vacation, I want you guys to get creative and plank some really stupid crap and email me the photos. I would like to have some entertainment on this long holiday weekend. And I will also probably end up posting some of my favorites on here sometime next week. I am a 39-year-old housewife and I think planking is funny. Do it for me. You know you want to. (email link at top of page)

I'm Not Dead, But My Brain Is.

I think this is my blog. I don't know anymore. I have jet lag. And like The Hub said, "I don't think you do jet lag very well." Duh. The real question is....What DO I do well? Aside from kicking ass with ninja-esque precision and talking to dolphins with my mind...not much.

They say that you learn something new every day. And you know what? I totally believe that. Although I also believe that I forget about 37 things every day. So this really doesn't help me a whole lot.

Where was I?

Oh yeah. Today I learned that staying awake for 30 hours straight is really not my thing. At least not unless it involves kidnapping hobos and harvesting their organs and delivering them in time to make any money at all. Time is money, and a person has to stay awake for that shit.

Or maybe I learned that yesterday. I kinda totally lost a day. Or a night. Whatever it was it sucks balls.

But anyways, the reason I'm posting this in my altered state, is just to let you guys know that the reason I've been MIA is cuz I was in Maui. And you regular readers know the drill: The Hub doesn't like me to talk about where I'm going before I go. Or before he goes. Or whatever. Because he knows as well as I do that at some point I'm most likely gonna end up in some weirdo's trunk. And I think he's just trying to keep me from making the taking and placing of me in that trunk, just a little harder. He's all sweet and helpful like that.

And for some reason when I got off the plane at 5:30 this morning, my stomach was bloated so huge that I looked like a had a beach ball under my clothes. And it hurt like balls. And I was thinking that I may be pregnant with one of those Twilighty vampire babies that grows really fast. Cuz when I went to the bathroom on the plane, I was totally kicking ass at the whole pee-hover thing until we hit just enough turbulence to make me fall and my ass touched the seat. And I think I heard somewhere that vampire pregnancy can be transmitted through toilet seats. Or maybe that was the herps. Like I said, I'm a bit foggy today.

But when I got home I realized that I just had gas. Crisis averted. Thank God. Because if there's anything that I want less than another baby, it's a sparkly giant baby that can kill people.

That would kinda suck hard, you guys.

So anyways, I was gone for awhile but now I'm back. And I'm sorry to all my new readers who got here just before I disappeared for a week. My summer writing can be sporadic. Mainly because I'm drunk a lot I'm busy building homes for the poor.

Anyways...I'll tell you a few things about my trip later. You know, after I get some sleep. But for now, here is a photo of me resting in a giant marble leaf:

And a photo of me planking a rock:

And this is me in a flight suit, channeling Tom Cruise from way back when we all thought he was cool:

More on that later...

It's Hard Out Here For A Pimp

(I got lots of new readers this week, so if you're totally lost and confused go to my archives and read the O'Mara posts. And for you old readers...Yes. You have to listen to it one more time.)

I've been really busy lately. You know, doing stuff. And doing other stuff. And trying to gather parts for my Time Burger. And doing pilates. And dealing with The Boy. And trying to avoid getting farted on. And trying to do homemakery stuff like laundry and grocery shopping and crap like that. And trying to keep my Facebook Boyfriend happy. And trying to keep The Hub happy. And trying to figure out how to make a giant tube like they use at the bank drive-thru that's big enough to tube me into town so I don't have to drive down our stupid-ass under-construction-from-hell highway. And trying to figure out how to get my hands on some Chinese Throwing Stars. And an army of finger monkeys. And trying to write lame-ass crap on here. And trying to Twitter like a boss.

I have important things to do, yo.

But nothing, oh nothing is as important as my Revolution. Do you hear that Mr. O'Mara? Yes, I was tired yesterday, but after your comment I am fired back up and ready to go! I drank 10 Red Bulls and watched some clips of you on YouTube and I'm back in top Revolutionary form!!

Mr. O'Mara needs more likes. And what Mr. O'Mara needs, this woman gets.

I'm kinda like a pimp and Jason is my ho. Except I don't have any gold teeth. And I don't beat him up.

So maybe it's not like that at all.

Maybe it's more like this: I'm doing you guys a favor here. I'm sharing him with you. And I hate sharing. But I've kept him to myself for years and I feel like I'm doing you a disservice if I don't share him with you. And look at it this way: You're getting in on the ground floor here. This fall when Terra Nova starts and everyone knows who he is, and his FB page is blowing up like a mofo, you can say that you were there first. And he's oh so very nice. If you ask him a question on his FB page he will almost always answer you. Unless it's totally stupid. Or rude. Then I will answer you. With a punch to the nads or ovaries. Whatever you have.

So maybe I am his pimp.

So those of you who haven't yet done so, get on Facebook and "Like" his page and show him some Revolutionary Love. And if you STILL aren't on Facebook, you're super dorky and old-fashioned and you don't know what you're missing. Trust me. Facebook World is awesome. You can have boyfriends on there and your husband won't even care cuz you can't catch an STD in Facebook World. And you have control over who is in your Facebook World. Some jack-wagon that cheated on you with the class skank in the 9th grade? Friend request DENIED! Try that in real life. "Hey Patti, I wanna be your friend. Let's go to lunch tomorrow." DENIED! That would not go over well. But in Facebook World it's totally acceptable. I once had someone un-friend me because I said something they found offensive. I know that's hard to believe, but it's true. Anyway, I sent another friend request and it was accepted. Then I said something offensive again and they un-friended me again. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. I just kept on doing it. And they kept on taking me back. See? Facebook is fun.

But back to my main point: Jason O'Mara is awesome. I'm totally convinced that he is the nicest actor in Hollywood. Tom Hanks can suck it. I mean, I loves me some Hanks, but until he starts shooting the shit with his fans on FB, he can suck my balls. So do yourselves a favor and go like my ho. I mean my Mr. O'Mara. And if you do, tell him I'm waiting for my Koala bear, will ya? My patience is running the hell out.

https://www.facebook.com/jasonomaraofficial

(Oh...and thank you Kory Carman for all my awesome photos. You rock!)

Most People Couldn't Put Up With My Ridiculousness For 15 Minutes. But Some Weirdo Has Done It For 15 Years.

So Wednesday was my 15th wedding anniversary. Or, OUR 15th wedding anniversary. I can't hog all the glory cuz let's face it: The Hub deserves some mother-effin' accolades here. The dude has been married TO ME for 15 YEARS. And since I'm such a pain in the ass, I really consider our marriage years like dog years. Which means that he has put up with my shenanigans for 105 years. Which is how old this guy is:

Which is probably how The Hub feels deep down inside. And I'm sure he often prays for old-man deafness. And at times, squinted-up cataracty eyeballs. So he doesn't have to hear my weirdo bullshit. Or singing. Or see my "sexy" dances. Or oh-so-attractive pajamas which consist of either my mustache or karate man boxers and an old tank top.

A trip to Victoria's Secret would be wasted on me.

So 15 years ago this man actually married me. And as far as I know, nobody was holding a gun to his head. As crazy as it sounds, I'm pretty sure he married me of his own free will. Which kinda makes me think that just maybe he's not a smart as everyone thinks he is. Either that or my dad paid him off.

And don't tell me that the dude didn't know what he was in for. We had dated for 6 years and lived together for 1. Come on. Even if I wanted to fake him out I couldn't keep up a charade for 7 long years. My maximum attention span is about 5 minutes. And that's only if food, beer, tiny animals, drag queens, or Paul Rudd is involved. Otherwise it's more like 3. 

On our honeymoon in Kauai the poor man was trying to keep a Travel Journal. So one afternoon when he was in the bathroom I opened it up to see what he'd been writing and I noticed that he had been very, very detailed about every little thing that we had done. Right down to what food we'd eaten. So on the next empty line I wrote something along the lines of "At 3:15 PM I took a hellacious dump. Odor was about a 6 on a 1-10 scale. It felt amazing." And later that day when he picked it up to probably write about shell we had seen or a fallen leaf, he saw what I had written and he threw the journal away. 

Dude knew what he was getting into.

So in the spirit of this, OUR 15th Anniversary, I want to say "Thank You" to The Hub for sticking it out. And also for not stabbing me. Yet. And here is a re-run of a few conversations we had last year that really explain the dynamics of our relationship. Plus one previously un-published bonus conversation at the end.

I think you will all agree that although I am amazingly stupid, I was smart enough to marry a wonderfully patient and understanding man.

Sunny Friday. Windows down. Steve driving. Me in the passenger seat....

Me:  Mother frick! There's something on me! It's a bug! Help! Help! Get it offa me! Get it! Get it! GET IT!

Steve:  Calm down. (Swats at it)

Me:  What the hell? What did you do?

Steve:  I got it off of you.

Me:  You swatted it down. YOU SWATTED IT DOWN! You're supposed to grab and remove. GRAB AND REMOVE! You just sent it to another part of my body! Where is it? Oh my God...I feel something in my pit. THERE'S SOMETHING MOVING IN MY LEFT PIT! ALL YOU DID WAS RELOCATE IT TO MY ARMPIT! Do you see it? Do you see it?

Steve:  It's not in your armpit.

Me:  HOW DO YOU KNOW? YOU'RE NOT EVEN LOOKING! I CAN FEEL IT MOVING!! I THINK IT'S STUCK IN MY DEODORANT! I GOT A NEW BRAND OF DEODORANT AND IT'S FREAKIN' STICKY!!

Steve: (Rolls eyes. Slaps his right arm.)

Me:  What was that? Why'd you slap yourself?

Steve:  The bug was on me. (Pretends to throw something out of the window)

Me:  What was that? What'd you just do?

Steve: It was the bug.

Me:  What? You should have shown me the carcass. I HAVE TO SEE A CARCASS! You know that without a carcass I don't believe you even a little bit.

Steve:  What?

Me:  You faked that whole thing just to shut me up. YOU KNOW ME! You KNOW I always have to see a carcass as proof. There was no carcass. I'm SO on to you.

Steve:  (Silence..... Sigh.)

Sunday afternoon. Me sitting at table. Steve enters...

Steve: Have you seen that keychain that has a connector in the middle so you can take it apart and make it into 2 keychains?

Me: I don't think so. All the keychains are in the junk drawer. Did you look in there? I don't remember seeing one like that. When did you see it last?

Steve: Well, I got it when I lived in the mushroom apartments.

Me: Your apartment in college.

Steve: Yes.

Me: In 1989.

Steve: Yes.

Me: Well, I haven't seen it. It's probably wherever my Aqua net, neon headband collection and Poison tapes are. Have you looked there?

Monday. Evening. Driving home from PF Changs. Steve driving. Me in Passenger seat...

Me: Man, I wish I had a time machine so I could go back and not eat so much Changs.

Steve: (Silence)

Me: And then I'd go back and make out with young Elvis.

Steve: (Silence)

Me: And then probably go kill Hitler.

Steve: (Completely ignores me)

Me:  I'm so gonna build a freakin' time machine.

Compasses. An Explanation.

So one day I mentioned that I didn't really understand how compasses work. And I know, I know, I'm an idiot. Not for not knowing why compasses work. Cuz who the frick knows that besides (a) The people who make compasses, and (b) Nerds like Steve? I so should have known better. But as usual, I was just thinking out loud and I said it. So he's like "Well, think about it a bit. How do you think compasses work?" So I said "Fairies and Leprechauns. Duh." Then he said something about something being "ferrous" so I said "Bueller?" And he said "No" and then explained what ferrous meant. Which I of course don't remember. Probably cuz I was thinking about that scene in Ferris Bueller's Day Off where Ferris pretends to be Sloane's dad. And he's wearing the rain coat and hat and sunglasses. And when she goes out to the car he totally open-mouth kisses her, and Principal Rooney's like What. Just. Happened. And then The Hub said something about oil and water and "Polar molecules" or something And I said "Like the North and South Pole?" And he said something about magnetization and I said "Wait. Are Polar bears freakin' magnetized?" And he said "Well, it would depend on how many water molecules they have" And I said "So...it's totally possible? Like, if I captured a Polar Bear I could stick it on the fridge? It could hold Ethan's drawings up and try to kill us every time we tried to open the refrigerator? Which is THE BEST DIET EVER! I'm a mother-effing genius."

Happy Anniversary Bee! 

Footnote: Last weekend while cleaning out something in his garage, The Hub found the keychain he had misplaced when he was 19. Amazing.