Oh what fun it is to have a contest where you tell people to molest things with their bodies. This brings me joy.

Seriously, you guys. Getting email that has photos of people surprise buttsecksing people and things is very exciting. And no. That is not some weirdo invitation to send me porn. I am not interested in creepy buttsecksing pictures. Just, ya know, normal "Hey! I Humped a statue in South Korea for you!" or something like that. It's fun to see other people doing the kinda inexplicably odd stuff that I like to do. I love it long time. Not to mention the fact that I got photos from all over the globe. I love that! LOVE!

As you will see, I got lots of entries. Some followed directions. Some didn't. Some looked like they were really feeling the love. Some looked embarrassed and like they were trying to be all casual like "I'm just walking by this statue...la de da de da...QUICK! TAKE A PICTURE!" But no matter what, they were all fun to look at and I hope you all had fun doing it. how could you not? Humping things is fun. And if you don't agree, then you gots problems. 

I had a difficult time choosing the winner, but in the end I decided on Beth Nowaczyk and her high rooster. I liked it's uniqueness. It's height. It's cluckiness. And her commitment.  Congratulations Beth! You win a Zombie Beer Bottle Opener, a Mom-Brain T-Shirt that says something ridiculous on it, and a cool Mom-Brain magnet that says something even more ridiculous, not to mention the adoration of myself and my many followers for giving it to a giant rooster.

P.S. An honorable mention goes to Sue, who has the last picture on the bottom of this page. She made me proud by Surprise Buttsecksing her friend while he vomitted in the toilet after too much drink-poo time. What a good friend you are, Sue. He should be proud to have you in his life. Kudos.

THANK YOU ALL FOR PARTICIPATING! XOXO

Winner! Winner! Chicken Dinner!

(See winner for the design portion of my contest in a blog next week)

This is Sue and her barfy friend.

Trolls: If only they would stay under the bridges where they belong, this world would rock my socks off

As most of you know, I have a Facebook page that accompanies my blog. Like my blog, it's usually a light-hearted, goofy world of unicorns, finger monkeys, and other silly things that make me happy. People come to me for laughter and fun, which is great, because that is how I have always tried to live my life. I have over 55,000 people on my Facebook page, and probably more than 99% of them rock. But occasionally there is some jerk with no sense of humor, that takes themselves too seriously, and thinks their poop doesn't stink. Listen, everyone's poop stinks except for Lord Burgess Atwood's, and that's because he's The Lord Of All Unicorns and his poop smells like cotton candy and bubblegum. The people who are in poop-stink denial will see something that they don't agree with and decide to make a big whiney announcement about how butthurt they are and how they are un-liking my page. Then, every damn time, they will hover and wait for some attention. So not only do they throw a public hissy fit about whatever the heck it was that they disagreed with, but they make a big to do about leaving...and then they don't go. Why? They are attention whores who are looking for a fight. In the internet world these people are often called Trolls. I prefer to call them sad, pathetic, party-pooping douchebags, but that's just me.

When I first started my page I admit that these kinda people would get me down. I would worry that I had offended someone and I would feel all kinds of shitty. Then I realized that I could say something as simple as "I hope you guys have a great day" and some sad sack out there with nothing better to do than whine, will get pissed. Maybe cuz I said "guys" and they are a girl. Or maybe cuz I said "day" and they are a delicate douche with alabaster skin that sunburns easily, and they prefer night. If someone is a whiney sad sack, it doesn't take much. They can turn anything into something to complain about because their sole purpose in life is to complain, and they have an insatiable need to poop on other peoples parades. They aren't happy unless they are making other people unhappy. It's not hard to see that they have self-esteem issues and the only way to feel better about themselves is to make someone else feel like shit. If you don't like something on someone's Facebook page, there is an "unlike" button that you can click and POOF! Mystical, Magical, Facebook Fairies remove that page from your orbit. But they don't click the damn button. Instead they tell you what they don't like about you and how much they hate your page.

Last night, when I told one of my many funny stories about The Boy, some woman said that she didn't think that my stories were true, that I surely make them up, and that there was no way The Boy said what I quoted him as saying. Let's get one thing straight: If I was gonna have a fictitious blog, it would involve much more exciting topics than spiders, laundry, trips to target, my funny kid, and stupid things I do like dance for The Cat. I'd go big or go home. We're talking Jetson's house and pet aliens and time travel.  And never in a bajillion years would I lie about something my son said, or represent him in an untruthful way. Never ever ever. And believe me when I say that The Boy takes huge pride in the funny things he says and the fact that I post them. Word for word. I showed him what that woman had written, then he read my quote and he tsked and said "Wow....you're NOT lying. That's EXACTLY what I said!" What was this woman's problem? What was the point in saying what she said? Who knows. I cannot get inside those kinds of heads, nor would I want to, cuz there sure as shit ain't no happy unicorns prancing around in that miserable noggin.

What has really been annoying me lately, is that most of the people who stir up trouble on my page are moms. And the moms who stir up trouble totally think that they are better moms than everyone else. Case in point, I posted this e-card this week:

This is a quote from Louis C.K. who happens to be my favorite comedian. He writes about parenthood in an amazingly honest, no-holds-barred way. It's this brutal honesty that makes him so funny. If you want people to laugh, you talk about things they can relate to. And although some of the things he says might initially be startling, they are all true. If people get offended (and they do) they don't have to listen to him. But if you can pull the self-righteous stick out of your butt for just a few minutes and listen, I don't see how you can NOT applaud him for telling his parenting stories in an open, truthful and funny as hell way, knowing full well that some people are gonna be pissed.

I have a HUGE respect for any mom/parent who can talk about their real life stuff without feeling like they have to pretend to be the perfect freaking parent with the perfect freaking kid. Newsflash: Nobody is perfect. Don't we, as mothers, have enough worries about whether we are doing it right without self-righteous know-it-alls judging us when they don't even know us? And I'm not saying that nobody's life is Leave it to Beaver-ish. I'm just saying that I haven't met any yet, and if I did I'd question whether they were actually human and totally do the robot test on them, i.e. kick them in the underballs or ovarnads and see if it hurts. No pain = creepy robot invasion. I think that there is a reason that Louis C.K. has such a huge following, and that sitcoms that follow in the awesome footsteps of "Roseanne" have been so popular over the past 20 years. Most people know what's what. They are living real lives and have real families with real drama and real fun.  It ain't the 1950's and that June Cleaver crap is soooo not gonna fly.

We all have our own style of parenting. When The Boy was a baby and people would ask me how he was doing, I would sometimes say that he was being an a-hole, and people would look at me like I had just murdered 27 puppies in front of them with my bare hands then made them eat their eyeballs (I like to be visually dramatic). The truth is, the first day we brought him home from the hospital I decided he was a mega-a-hole because he wouldn't shut up with the freaking crying. I wondered what I had done to deserve getting stuck with a turd baby. Eventually we realized that he was crying non-stop because in all the exhaustion and nervous newness of having a strange, tiny person in our home, we had kinda sorta forgotten that babies need to be fed. After that little whoopsie, I decided that maybe he wasn't actually an a-hole and perhaps we were just idiots.

He still spent months and months with his diaper in a wad, occasionally acting like a moody a-hole. He would cry like a maniac for no reason, making me question my lifelong belief that all babies were adorable and sweet. I even started to question whether or not I was a good mother. Eventually he grew out of it. Mostly. I mean, sometimes he still acts totally turdy. But those episodes are rare. And when I tell him he's acting like a turd, he usually realizes that I'm right. Same thing when I am acting like a turd and he tells me so. Listen, everybody at some point acts like a turd or an a-hole or whatever. Even babies. Even nuns. And nuns are married to God, you guys. Didn't you see The Sound of Music? Some of those nuns were definite a-holes. To judge a person for saying that their spawn is acting like an a-hole or a jerk, is ridiculous. Sometimes people act like jerks. It's a real thing, and as a parent I consider it my job to tell The Boy when he's acting like a jerk. How else will he know? My way is to get to the nitty gritty and say "Dude, you're acting like a turd today." That may not be your way, and  that's okay, but it's my way. I'm not beating him. I'm not calling him names. I'm calling his behavior a name. I'm letting him know when he's being a jerk so that some kid at school doesn't have to let him know with a sucker punch to the face. I'm actually saving his face from getting disfigured, you guys. And that's pretty amazing of me.

Every mom (and dad) has different parenting styles, and unless someone's style is to abuse or neglect their children, I don't think that any of us have a right to judge. We certainly don't have a right to judge someone as a parent when we know absolutely nothing about that person and nothing about their child. And although I cringe when someone's kid is being a major a-hole and the parent doesn't care, I would never ever say anything to them about the way they dealt with their own child, unless it directly affected myself or my boy.

After posting the infamous e-card, a woman said this in the comments:

"pathetic that people treat their children like this. This "mom-brain" bitch needs her kids taken from her. Unliking this stupid fuck page"

This is an example of what sometimes happens on not only my page, but other pages as well. Did I write that card? No. Did I say that I flip MY child off behind his back? No. So why would someone feel the need to post such a hateful rant on the page of a person that they don't even know? The worst thing you can say to a parent is that their child should be taken away from them. And to say it because of a funny card that they posted on Facebook and with no knowledge of that person's real life, is not only irresponsible behavior for ANY person, but especially a mother. Is it wrong to laugh at a quote about flipping off your child behind their back, but right to get on someone's public page and call them a bitch and say that their children should be taken away? Are those the lessons that you want your children to learn? Some might say that THAT is the kind of person who should not be raising children. But hopefully nobody comes to your page and says that to you for all the world to read.

Sometimes people don't think I'm funny. Sometimes people think I'm immature. Sometimes people think I am annoying and that my rants are too long. Sometimes people disagree with things that I say. Sometimes people just don't like the way I look. Guess what? That's okay with me. To each their own. But you bring my child into it in any way, shape, or form? That's not cool. And the thing is...those people came to me. They came to my FB page of their own free will, and if they see something that makes them so mad that they want to spew hatred everywhere, that should be a sign to them that it's time to go. They have that choice. There is no reason to act like an a-hole and start a fight. What's the point? All you are doing is outing yourself as an attention seeking bummer of a human being. Do these people go around in their real day to day lives telling people to their faces what they hate about them? Do they go around name calling people they disagree with? I'd bet all the Modelo in the world that they don't. They save that behavior for when they are behind a computer and can act like they are a bad-ass without actually facing their victims and having to take responsibility for their obnoxious behavior. From the safety of their homes, thanks to the magic of the internets, they can be Keyboard Warriors, act like big hateful bullies, and get their rocks off by treating someone like crap.

It's all pretty sad. And it's even sadder when moms are doing it to other moms. Women are supposed to support women. Moms are supposed to support moms. Human beings are supposed to support human beings. Don't we have enough problems without turning on each other for no reason other than the fact that someone finds something funny that you don't? Or someone parents in a way that you don't? Most of us are doing the best we can to raise kids that turn into people that don't act like a-holes. People that will support other people and do everything they can not to hurt anyone, yet have the courage and self-worth to stand up for themselves when they need to. People that won't grow up to be bullies who get their self-esteem by trying to take away someone else's. We are all in the same boat here. If you think someone else isn't steering their boat the right way but they aren't putting you or anyone else in danger, let them keep on steering their freaking boat and stay the frick out of it.

And just for the record, The Boy is the love of my life and he is a pretty awesome kid. I cooked him up and popped him out and taught him 11 years worth of stuff, and he is one of the smartest, sweetest, most well-adjusted kids on the planet. Partly because he is infinitely loved yet treated like a normal person who makes normal mistakes, and partly because we tell him if he's acting like an a-hole.

YES! YES! YES!

If you can win a Pulitzer for lame and somewhat vulgar cards, back off people, cuz it's all mine

I am posting a bunch of my stupid e cards here because for some reason lots of my blog readers aren't on the book of face, and are missing out on these ridiculous things. And also, because people keep stealing these stupid cards and idiotic quotes and claiming them as their own, and when I post my things here they are supposedly instantly copyrighted. Really, people? THIS is what you are gonna plagiarize? Not Shakespeare? Not Dostoyevsky? You're gonna steal a quote from me where I threaten to spork someone in the taint? Wow. Alls I can say is that dude...you are all kinds of effed up. It's effed up enough to say the stupid crap that I say, but even MORE effed up to steal it. I would recommend some therapy for you. Pronto. And don't go trying to steal MY therapist, because I'm pretty much all he can handle. Are we clear? Good.

The only good part is that when someone steals any quote from me AT ALL, I always have a few people who either recognize it and tell me, or come to me and say "This sounds like something you would say" and show me an e-card or poster of a quote that sounds like me BECAUSE I'M THE ONE THAT SAID IT! And I know I know I should be flattered that people are thinking my stuff is funny enough to steal, and I kinda am. But I'm mad too. Mad because it's rude and dishonest and pathetic. When someone takes something that came from your brain, it feels really, really, wrong

So anyways, here are some cards I made after I found out that I was wasting my precious time making cards on the Somee card site because I heard that although you can use their site to make some funny cards with your own sayings, once you make them you cannot take credit for them. They are their property and they can even sell them if they want. I say screw that crap. I'll make my own. So I did. And although I am sick of looking at these photos of myself, I used them figuring that it's just a wee bit harder for someone to steal my stuff when my face is on it. Even though the a-holey of the world still find a way. Anyways, now that I have made these literary masterpieces, I am sitting back, feet up, waiting for my Pulitzer. Norman Mailer, John Cheever, William Faulkner...you can all step aside. Actually, I guess you can roll aside. Since you're all dead and stuff. People are always saying "he would roll over in his/her grave" so I guess dead people can roll. Or they could come back as zombies and step side to side like those Thriller Zombies do. If I were dead I'd do that. Rising from the dead as a zombie and doing the Thriller dance is way cooler than rolling over in a box in the ground. I am all about getting attention, and I'm guessing that if you were dancing down the street all dead and gross and everything, you'd get lots more attention cuz ain't nobody gonna see that whole grave rolling thing except for some worms and maggots. Point is, I doubt any of those writers ever wrote the phrase "I'll kick you in the nads." But what the heck do I know? I mostly cliff noted those books due to the fact that I was too busy drinking beer and kissing boys to read a 8 million page novel.

Anyways, here are a few of my cards. I'm sure Hallmark will be calling at any moment. Most likely they'll be calling to tell me that I am an abomination to the purity of the flowery kitty cat greeting card industry. But who cares WHY they're calling, as long as they call. Right?

The Final Blog In My Pay It Forward Like That Kid In That Movie From The Other Movie Where He Sees Dead People, Summer Blog Guest Series

Summer is over. Thank balls. Because I have had enough boob sweat to last me a lifetime. As summer ends, so does my awesome summer guest blogger series, with the title that is way too long. 

I did this guest blogger series this summer for a couple of reasons. One is because I am lazy in the summer & would rather drink beer than blog. And another is because now that I have more readers than I ever dreamed of having, I like to spread the love by spotlighting other bloggers who are either just starting out or just haven't had a chance to get noticed on a larger platform. The fact that I am "a larger platform" shocks me daily. And the fact that when I ask these bloggers to write for me they are actually nervous and excited shocks me even more. I am just a dork, with a dorky blog. All you guys need to chill. 

My final post of the summer is from Allyson who has a blog called The Crumb Diaries. My friend Chris introduced me to her blog and I kinda fell in big time like with her. What did it for me was the fact that Allyson raises a special needs son, and since I have an older sister who has special needs, I felt an instant connection to her.

After reading a few posts about her son Logan, I was smiling from ear to ear at his quirky self and I wanted to jump into my computer to give him a big old hug. Allyson's gift is that she is able to laugh at the interesting things that happen at her house instead of letting things get her down. And as the parent of a special needs child, THAT is the key. As a matter of fact, as a parent of ANY child, that is the key. As you all know, I can laugh about pretty much anything, and that is why I have enjoyed various jobs working with special needs children and adults in the past. Patience and a sense of humor make all the difference in the world. Allyson has both of those and I think it's pretty great that she is sharing Logan with us. This boy is a hoot.

So I wanted to share Allyson and Logan with all of you and give a big shout out to everyone who is raising a child with special needs. You are the rock stars of the mommy world.

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I am honored, flattered, and amazed at being invited to do this guest post. For REAL- amazed. I am just a small town girl who lives a crazy life and started throwing it into a blog- so for Insane in the Mom Brain to pick it up and run with it is unreal. To write out your innermost feelings, and be liked, appreciated and acknowledged by someone you’ve looked up to is crazy! STILL grinning.

So, what is this crazy life that I speak of? It’s kind of like this: I am the Ringleader of a 3-ring shit show. Now, don’t get me wrong- by “shit show” I really don’t mean it’s all bad. I literally mean some days are an actual “shit” show, as my special needs teenaged son is the Master of all things that clog. There is not a toilet that he cannot defeat and conquer – including any Disney World hotel toilet, which you’d think would be equipped for people after eating all that crappy park food. THAT was embarrassing.

Last Xmas, he actually received his own plunger. See? SHIT show- legit.

One day, (a day that still holds strong as my worst day of my life) we had a flood in our basement. The water resulted in damaging both my washer and dryer. I am somewhat of a laundry fanatic, so this was traumatic for me. I was bound and determined to get at least one load of laundry done- so I chose the most important thing- bath towels. This took me ALL day, these bath towels. The washer didn’t spin right, so I had to keep going down to the basement and screwing around with it. The dryer wasn’t getting hot enough, so it took 4-5 cycles to dry the load. It took me about 6-7 hours to get one load of towels washed- but I did it! I felt pretty accomplished putting them away.

I went to bring down some more laundry and noticed a smell.  Upon further inspection, I made the very unpleasant discovery that our 7’ tall freezer had died in the flood, and now its contents were…well you know *gag*. I called in back up on this one, and the husband and his trusty 2-wheeled dolly came to the rescue…until he put the freezer up onto the dolly, the door swung open and SPLASH GUSH OOZE, all things nasty and rotten came pouring out of that freezer and onto my basement floor. *dry heave* We sort of stood there for a moment, frozen in horror. The stench snapped me out of it and the cleaning process began. Bleach. Lysol. Ammonia. HOURS this took us. As we were just finishing the clean up, I notice drip- drip- drip water leaking from a pipe overhead. “Huh, that’s strange. That’s not a water pipe” my husband says….then.. “Where is Logan?”

I rush up 2 flights of stairs to find the upstairs bathroom door locked. *knock knock* nothing.

“Logan…everything okay in there?”….not a peep. Finally I jimmy the door open- to find Logan standing in the bathroom…..pants around his ankles..an unbent wire coat hanger in his hand. He’d been trying to ‘snake’ the clog- and also clean up- unsuccessfully. The floor was soaked..and what was also soaked? My precious towels. Every. Last. One.

It’s always something at our house. Sometimes good, sometimes not, but writing it out does help. As Logan is growing up- he’s getting more and more fun. The stuff he does intrigues me- I really wonder about the ‘why’ behind it. I wish I knew what he was thinking.

He has a cell phone, like most teens. It’s set up so he can press a button and call one of us, and the caller ID is linked to a photo so he knows who is calling. This works great- MOST of the time, although he won’t stop changing it to French which forces me to sit on a translation program online to change it back, because I don’t know French! He has also replaced our pictures in the caller ID feature. I am now a turkey sandwich, my husband is a bath mat and my daughter is some rocks.  He loves the camera feature on the phone. He favors taking ‘self shots’ as well as MANY shots of his feet.

Some others:

He can be a challenge- but being the mom to a special needs kid has taught me so much. I am the parent I may have pitied 17 years ago, but boy has my opinion changed. I feel lucky, I feel blessed, I feel accomplished. He has taught me patience, tolerance, persistence, but above everything else, he has taught me that no matter what life throws at me, I can handle it. I can have a shit day and really feel like bitching about it- but then I realize- someone, somewhere is having a much worse day than me. Someone somewhere is having a much worse life than me. Someone somewhere is much less loved than me. I honestly have nothing to complain about- so I laugh and share.

Someone once accused me of ‘exploiting’ Logan for laughs. I feel really sorry for this schmuck who thinks that. I laugh because Logan’s funny! He says and does things so outside the box. He does things we don’t understand- does that mean I can’t share them?

I mean, some stuff’s been a bit baffling, maybe even troubling- but it’s all just him.

He has an obsession with ponies- I worried it was a fetish!!  (No really, I even called the doctor)

He pours powder into things. Yea, wtf? 

He hoards magazines –mostly Victoria’s Secret (ugh!)

He dips chips in yogurt and hot dogs in chocolate.

He takes/hides/loses important documents, keys, tv remotes. You name it- he has stolen mine and lost it and blamed it on somebody else, usually “Santa”. He’s the go-to guy for pinning it on.

In all reality, I never saw this life for me. I never saw myself as having to be a knock-down drag-out fighter who would stop at nothing for my kid. I never saw my child living with me forever. I never saw it coming…but I would never change it.

We may never understand the ‘why’ of Logan, but I’ve come to terms with letting go of the ‘what if’ for Logan. He is just Logan- quirks and all, and I will continue to love him, laugh with him and blog about him. Because he’s freakin’ awesome- and the star of this show.

Allyson's blog:  The Crumb Diaries

Allyson's Facebook page: The Crumb Diaries