Go On Take the Money and Run

More Spring flowers.

Today I'm going to try to make us all feel better about ourselves by telling you a little story. Yesterday Coadster and her dad went to Iowa State to attend a minority breakfast thingy and to talk to a counselor about different options for majors.

Her dad borrowed his brother's car to take her, and while they were there, someone broke into it. They took the only thing in it, which was a flashlight, but then they also left something. That's right. The douche bag left his wallet in the car. Really? Wow. According to his license, he was from some small town somewhere, so he probably didn't have a lot of street smarts, but to break into someone's car and leave more than you stole is mind boggling. I'd love to sit in on that court date and watch the judge laugh his ass off.

So, if you're having a bad day, just remember: It could always be worse. You could be THAT big of a dumbass

I Bring Wrath to Those Who Disrespect Me Like a Dame

Here is a barber shop sign in Hills, Ia.

I feel like I'm getting that bad cold my girls have both had. I know I always say this, but it's because it's always true...Kids are grubby little germ breeders. Since there's this gigantic bacterial war going on inside my body, and I want the good germs to win, I'm going to try to write quickly and go to bed at a decent time. A lack of time means I'll be random, because I won't have the several hours necessary for me to form one cohesive blog post. Yeah, yeah. I'm full of excuses.

1.) I love it when it warms up and the snow starts disappearing. Like I said last post, the ice had finally melted enough for me to run my six mile route on Saturday. Just like every other year, I couldn't help but notice all the dog poop landmines suddenly uncovered by the melting snow. Do people only pick up their dog's crap when it's warm enough for others to be out and catch them when they don't do it?

2.) I was going to spend a lot of Saturday cleaning and organizing. On that same day, Stinky wanted money to go to a movie with her friends. Of course, in our house, money don't come cheap. So, Stinky cleaned the kitchen and the bathroom in addition to her normal chores, leaving me plenty of time to sit on my ass when I got back from running. Nice. It's the closest I'll ever get to hiring a maid.


Here is the barber shop that goes with the sign. Closed for the evening.

3.) When I was out on Saturday night, some people at my table were talking about this guy who comes down to the Dublin sometimes who looks just like Anthony Michael Hall. They were wondering how old he was. (The guy in the Dublin, not the real AMH) If you've ever met me, you know that after I've had a beer or two, I can be easily dared into things. This time I even volunteered to ask him.

I stopped him at the bar, asked him his age and he told me he was 25. Then one of his friends showed up, who just happened to also be his boss. He was in his early thirties and getting his MBA, and a total pompous asshole. The pompous guy started aggressively hitting on me, but being a total butt about it. He wanted me to guess his age and then he wanted me to guess which business he owned in Coralville. Turns out, I didn't even know it existed. He was all offended, and I tried to be nice and explain that I don't make it out to Coralville much. He said, "So, what. You can't even go two feet away from your door?" I informed him, that I do indeed leave my house. I know the main drag of Coralville, I just don't drive down the side streets.

"...And don't worry," I said. "You didn't sound a bit condescending there." He acted all shocked that I would think that, but then as part of his "apology", he mentioned that English was only his 17th language. Gross. Thank god he wasn't trying to sound condescending, right?

I got a break for a minute when their other, totally hot, friend came up and introduced himself to me. He was surprisingly charming for someone wearing a "Likes to Fuck" hat. Both Anthony Michael Hall and Likes to Fuck went upstairs, because they both also liked to smoke and left me with Mr. Condescension. He immediately started badgering me about buying me a drink and telling me he would take me to Mexico with him and those two guys. I very politely declined his offer. I told him that I was done drinking for the night. He said he couldn't believe that. I explained that I try to be careful about how much I drink, and that I had already hit my limit, but it was really sweet of him to ask.

"You have dimples, " was his response to that.

"Yes, I do. But I'm still gonna have to decline. It was really nice meeting you," I offered my hand to him, but he wouldn't take it. He got all huffy and pissed off. He turned around to the bar and wouldn't even look at me. Whatever. If he didn't want to get rejected, then maybe he shouldn't have been such an unholy prick.

Okay. I guess that's all the fun I have time for tonight. May you win all of your internal bacterial battles.

She Told Me She Worked in the Morning and Started to Laugh

Well, yesterday was day two of no internets for Churlita. Because I took tons of science classes when I was younger and thought I was going to be pre-med in college, (I know, Shut up) I had plenty of experience eliminating variables. So, last night that's what I did and you want to know what I found out? Both my internet and router must be working because my XBox Live is up. Now, I'm thinking it might be something to do with the fact that I downloaded the 8.0 edition of the free AVG virus scan. For anyone with this kind of knowledge, would that prevent me access from my beloved internet? And if so, do I just take the program off and start all over?

Anyway, I will keep trying to work on this over the weekend, but we'll see how far I get. The guy who was my wedding date last month is in town this weekend and we're going to be hanging out at the local hippie'ish music fest right outside of town and probably won't have tons of time to work on my computer woes. If I do get it up and running, I'll be sure to try and write a post sometime in the next day or two.

Oh, and I Guess That I Just Don't Know

Well, kids. My internet isn't working at home right now, and you know how frustrated I get when things don't work. I came home last night and did all the troubleshooting stuff for my wireless router and everything seems to look like it should work, but then it doesn't.

I think that my router might just be a piece of shit. So, then I figured I could just avoid the middle man and not use my router. All that did was make my computer throw up some stupid note about how my computer wasn't connected or something. Either I didn't hook things up correctly, or there is some program attached to the router that I need to get rid of. Obviously, I have no idea what I'm doing, so if the whole world blows up tonight when I try to mess with things again, you can go ahead and assume that I pulled the wrong plug or reattached a bad wire and caused it.

Anyway, for right now, I'm stuck trying to furtively blog at work again. Ugh. We'll see if I can ask one of my friends who actually has some knowledge about such things and try to get it fixed.

My computer must have known I was going to write another post about boys last night and it was tired of hearing about that shit from me...

You'll Drink the Night Away and Forget About Everything

Here is a picture of my beer and my phone and my girl crush's fanny pack.

So, the Saturday Photo Scavenger Hunt word was Drink, chosen by DMarks. It was a great word for me for a few reasons. First, I've been running a lot this weekend. The weather was perfect on Friday and Saturday. Today, however it was warmer and much more humid. Since I've been spoiled by the nicer weather, I forgot how important it was to hydrate before I run on the hotter days. I ran the full six miles today, but I was so wiped out afterward, I had to rest and drink tons of fluids. Oops.

The second reason the word was perfect is that this weekend I had to serve as my own cautionary tale. Apparently, I can't drink half as much in the Summer as I can in the Winter. It's kind of weird, huh? I think it's because my metabolism gets so high in the Summer and totally shuts down once it gets cold outside. Plus, I run so much more when it's nice out, and I sweat out all the toxins during the day, so it's like starting fresh every single night with no way to build up a tolerance.

So, kids. The lesson we learned this weekend is to drink responsibly - whether it's alcoholic or non-alcoholic. Now, I think I'll take my leave and watch some After School Specials.

It's Too Hot to Handle, So I Got to Get Up and Go

Here is a picture of some clouds and the countryside.

Kids, it just turned July and I can't say that I'm all that sad to say goodbye to June. It certainly wasn't all bad. I had some really great times and wonderful experiences. It was just rollercoastery and I'm more of a slow and steady girl (again, more emphasis on the slow and less on the steady). Last month just plum tuckered me out, is all.

Hopefully, we won't have any more flood drama, but I'm not counting on July to be all that very restful either. Here's how It's shaking out right now:

4th of July weekend - Right now I don't have a lot planned. I may stop by Billy Mac's farm on Dane Road and see some bands in the afternoon and I've tentatively planned to watch fireworks with K. and her boyfriend on Friday evening, but other than that, I'm totally open.

The weekend of the 11th - My wedding date is supposed to come back to town for the Euphoria Fest in Lone Tree. I'm taking a a half day off on Friday. I'll go for a while on Friday night and then camp out there on Saturday night.

The 16th is my birthday - I'm not sure what I'm doing for my birthday. I usually like to celebrate it for at least week. I really am that goddamn special. So, I might celebrate a little during Supper Club on Wednesday and then invite anyone who wants down to the Dublin on Thursday night. I'm taking Friday off work, so my daughters and I will go see a total girl movie matinee that day.

My girl crush at another wedding.

The weekend of the 19th - is my girl crush's wedding. I don't think I need to tell you what kind of crazy dance party will be happening there, do I?

The 25th of July - is when we leave for our California road trip. I'm sure I'll write more about that before we leave, but we won't be back until after the first week in August.

I sure didn't schedule any good resting or napping time, did I?

You Always Keep Me Guessin'

My favorite bartender S.'s wife is an amazing ceramics artist. She made this piece and the one below for my friend Libby.

So, when I got home on Saturday night, I started getting texts from an unknown number. The first one said:

Churlita I hear yr HOT!!!!!!

There are a few boys who drunk text me, and I figured it was one of them using a friend's phone to mess with me, but I didn't want to venture a guess, in case it was the wrong boy. So, this is how I responded:

Me: Who the hell is this?

Them: Does it matter?

Me: Yes it does. Would it matter 2 u? Don't u wanna know whos heard yr hot?

Them: No. I'd b curious.

Me: Me 2. I'm assuming someone I know is messing with me thru u. So who is it?

Them: Someone!

Me: Um duh. Where's a 402 area code from anyway? I have my suspicions but I still feel like Drew Barrymore at the beginning of the movie Scream.

Them: Kind of creepy but you feel hor.

Them: Opps. Hot.

At this point, I was pretty sure I knew who it was. One of the boys who texts me is notorious for text typos and he always writes opps, instead of oops. I was still getting annoyed that he wouldn't come clean. Especially since, in the middle of this, he texted me from his own phone, so I wouldn't think it was him.

Me: Yeah it is creepy but more hot than hor, thx. Ok. Enough bullshit. Who gave u my number. I'm sure they're right there with u.

Them: U r very curious.

Me: U would b 2. Again its getting a little creepy 4 me.

I was pretty much done with the texting, and I think he figured he'd gone further than he should with it, so the guy who I thought it was called me. The weirdest thing about the phone call, is that we talked for about an hour, and neither one of us brought up the dorky texting incident. He didn't own up to it, and I didn't ask him. I didn't bring it up because I knew he was just trying to be funny, and then didn't quite know how to end it once he realized it had gone too far. It was definitely an interesting way to end my Saturday night, but if he ever does it again, I'll make like Barney Fife and nip it in the bud.

Libby calls the top one goosey and the bottom one goatie. Of course.

Life's Such a Treat and It's Time You Taste It

Here's a picture of Libby's dog, licking it up.

Well, kids. It's the end of my glorious three day weekend and I'm trying to clean things up and get ready for the work day. What that means for all y'all, is that I'm posting some texts I've either sent or received before I delete them. If you've read one of these kinds of posts before, you'll recall that it's usually dirty and wrong and less attractive than Kiss without their make-up in the "Lick it Up" video. Remember, unless they're grouped together, these texts stand on their own and aren't attached to the one above or below. Ready? Okay!

1) Maybe he'll be back. Sometimes that happens and you wind up shaving in the Dublin bathroom! I might be back. S. keeps farting by me.


2.) He's makin tatr salad n chickn. So anything.


3.)This is an exchange.

1st Texter: Grassy Ass.

2nd texter: I love it when u speak Iowa Spanish.

1st texter: It makes me seem hotter don't u think?


4.) I have 20 new boyfriends. It must be bar close.


5.) Spayshul! U got cute boyz movin in next door.


6.) Good. I meant every word. Even if I did sound like Corky from "Life Goes On."


7.) This next exchange was the day after a drunk text from a boy at bar close who lives 5 hours from me and told me he was going to start driving to see me. After I reminded him that he probably was too drunk to drive, he told me he'd try to drive down the next day. I got this the next afternoon when he woke up with a belly full of shame:

Him: Needless to say but I won't be making it tonight. I'm hoping for a longer stay in the very near future. Promise.

Me: Ha ha. I kept waiting for you to get here 5 hours after u texted. Just kidding.

Him: I know u did... Liar.


8.) U were sexxxy with 3 xs.


9.) What's up douche?


10.) 1st texter: GW gave me shit that most of those pics were of u n me but she took most of them so I flipped that shit right back at her.

2nd texter: Ha ha! its not our fault that our dance moves are mesmerizing.


11.) I'll let u know when to start feeling shame - u've got a lot of making up to do in the slut arena. better do it now rathr than in the nursing home.


12.) I'm like a Paris Hilton porno shot in night vision in those pics. Ugh.

That's Just a Little Bit More Than the Law Will Allow

Here are some flowers up against a wall.

As seems to be the usual for my Wednesday evening post, it's late and I'm tired, so this will be quick. Tonight is my childless night and so I did my supper club gig at Shakespeare's with some girls and had a great talk and ate greasy food and drank a soda. All of which were wonderful.

After that, I headed down to the Dublin where I had my two beers and hung out with some funny guys and my friend J., who I love. I can't remember how, but we got on the subject of how we refer to our private girl or boy parts (you know how you do that in bars sometimes). The owner said he called his a pecker and I told him I thought that was non-threatening and pretty tame. Most of the guys agreed that they usually used the term cock because that was a little more sexy. J. and I were joking about calling our girl parts cooches. The boys seemed to like that term, although Scooter, the bartender said he had a hard time calling it a cooter because it made him think of The Dukes of Hazzard. I definitely had to agree with him. Imagining someone calling it a "C-c-cooter" is sooo not sexy.

Well, kids. I think it's time to end this quaint little bed time story and call it a night (or whatever you feel comfortable calling it). The end.

It Comes Upon Me Without Warning

So, on Saturday we celebrated the birthdays of two of my favorite people the only way we know how - with a huge fucking dance party. My girl crushes birthday was on May 7th and my friend D.'s was on Sunday.

I would like you to recognize how smart I was by taking a nice, clean girl group photo at the beginning of the evening, because dance parties get sweaty and dirty in a hurry.

See? Like here, D. and J. and T. all still look pretty respectable and cute.


You know, but then we start the sandwich dancing, because apparently we never get tired of it.

Then maybe someone gets a great idea to stick their head in someone else's shirt and button around it so that it looks like some kind of freakish, sideshow appendage.


And other people start getting surly and flipping me the bird just because I very invasively and annoyingly want to take their picture.

The dance party begins in earnest and we get in the way of all the people trying to play pool.

My nicely straightened hair gets all unraveled and starts curling and frizzing just to spite me.


I'm left by the end of the night trying to figure out my IQ on my two fingers... Or am I counting the brains cells I have left?

Then we get to the "ashes, ashes, we all fall down" part of the evening and the chance to take any nice clean photos of ourselves will just have to wait until the beginning of another night, since this one is essentially over.

Did My Words Not Come Out Right?

Here is a picture of a building in Davenport. I just liked the look of it.

Today was nice and warm and mellow. The girls were supposed to go to their dad's house, but they stayed with me until a little after nine. It was fine. I got to catch up on all the teen drama and tried to keep straight which friends they were on the ins and the outs with and then my head exploded.

This weekend was also on the mellow side. I caught up on sleep and got some cleaning done finally. I went out for a few hours both nights. On Friday we went to the Foxhead because our friend Brad was tending bar. Don't get me wrong, there were plenty of people there who I loved and I had a great time. It's just that there always tend to be certain uptight pretentious grad students who are WAY too cool for school, who make me want to be even more obnoxious than usual. Mostly though, I had a great time and spent all my energy on my friends in the bar and some drunk texting to people outside of the bar and it was great.

On Saturday I met my friend K. and her boyfriend A. at the Dublin. It was one of those weird nights there where there weren't very many regulars. It just meant that we had to give Scooter the bartender more of a hard time. I asked him to make me a girly shot and he told me I didn't really want one (which is what I predicted he would say) and then when I assured him I did, he said he would surprise me and K. with one and made us a really good and girly pineapple upside down cake shot. My friend K. said he would be into it and make us something good because he likes to mix drinks, so she got to be right too.

We talked to him about Rock of Love 2, because he's surprisingly really into that show. Then, not more than a half hour later, someone called down and told Scooter that Brett Michaels' tour bus was in front of the bar. I told him I'd go check it out. He asked me if I'd knock on the door of the bus and I said, "Duh. Of course". So, I went outside and knocked on the door of the bus. An old guy who looked like he could be from Keokuk, Iowa opened the door.

"Hi. Um, what's this bus for?" I asked.

"It's a charter bus," he responded, only slightly annoyed. I knew better than to ask straight out if it was Brett Michaels tour bus because it was looking less and less likely to be true and I doubted he had even heard of Poison.

"Okay, but what's it for?"

"It's for a bachelorette party," he said and I thanked him. I knew he wasn't lying to try to get rid of me either, since I didn't see even one bandana or cowboy hat on that bus.

Do My Dreaming and My Scheming

I seem to be going out a lot these last couple of weeks. I think it's probably part of those stages of loss or grief or whatever they're called. You know, it's anger, denial, punk rock reunion shows, dance parties and flirty texting. Isn't that how it goes? Eh, something like that.

Anyway, I've been going out a lot and not spending much time alone. So, yesterday I decided to take a night for me, myself and I. It was really warm on Monday, so I ran and got all high and it was wonderful and then I came home and planned to do all my geek girl activities after the girls went to their dad's house. I thought I might make some food, and mess around on the computer, and play some video games and read my book (I've started reading The Book Thief) and maybe watch a movie. Which would have been great, had there been 107 hours in the day instead of 24. What actually happened, was that I turned an embarrassingly stupid movie on while I was eating dinner and got sucked in and didn't get a whole hell of a lot else done. Um, duh. It was still nice hanging out by myself and living in my own little world.

Tomorrow I'll actually be venturing out. Sadly, I'll miss supper club, but it's for a good cause. I'm finally going to meet my friend J. at the Java House. Even though we live in the same town, I haven't seen him in over a year. I can't wait to catch up on all his business. I want to to try make an early night of it, so I can spend another hour or two of alone time too. This time, I promise to swear off the cheesy, mindless movies.

Though I Knew it Wouldn't Help Me None

Hey, so this is the closest to Saturday I've come to getting my Saturday Scavenger Hunt photos up. Of course, the drawback is that I wasn't smart enough to get a breathalyzer installed on my keyboard when I was sober, so now I'm blogging drunk. I know, stoooooopid.

I promise I'll make this quick and not talk about old made for TV movies like I normally do when I'm drunk. Even though, earlier today I was thinking about when my friend A. lived in the apartment across the hall from me and we made a point to hang out on Sunday nights and watch whichever bad one came out and how lucky it was for us that they made not one, but at least three movies about Joey Buttafucco and how we tried to catch every one so we could rate them. I think we decided that the Drew Barrymore one was the best. Isn't that how it went down, A.?

Okay, lucky for you I didn't talk about made for TV movies tonight, huh? Anyway, the word this week was light. Everyone else did great posts with every different meaning for the word light that anyone could imagine. So, for me, I'm using this photo that Stinky took of me when I was getting ready for the Santa Crawl this evening. I told her I wanted to highlight my boots, and I think she did a good job, don't you? Here is the light shining off of the bottom of my tall black boots.

I'm Tryin', I'm Tryin', I'm Tryin' and I'll Try

After a week, my memory of the boy is getting a little hazy.

Sooo, I'll just tell it like it is. Mr. Awesome never called me. Like I said before, I'm not all that surprised. I knew he had way too much going on already. He's got full custody of his son and he works two jobs on top of that. I have a feeling it was one of those things where last Saturday, when his boy was at his mom's house and he'd had a few drinks, it all seemed doable, but by the next day when he was probably a little hung-over, picking-up his son and eating that cold, hard reality sandwich, it didn't. I totally understand it, I have that same dilemma with dating too. It would be great, but it takes a lot of time and effort, and then even after you work so hard at it, sometimes it doesn't work out and blah and blah and blah. It's hard to know if it's really going to be worth it in the end.

I would like to believe at some point I'll meet someone and it will be worth it, but there seems to be a lot of sifting and sorting required to get there. You know? I've had a lot of people tell me that once I stop looking, then I'll meet my guy. I'm here to tell you, that it's a total load of crap. I gave up and then went four years without dating. I only picked it up again when I decided to give it another shot and actually made an effort.

My first time back in the ring wasn't all that great of an experience. So, all I can do is try to learn from that. And what I learned is not to push it. If someone tells me or shows me that they may not want the same things I want, I need to drop it - even if they ask me to be patient and wait for them to get there. The reality is, that a person either wants you and is willing to work on shit, or he/she doesn't.

Some people had advised me to call Mr Awesome. I have his number, because he called me on Saturday night the minute I got into my car to leave and then again an hour down the road on my way home. But I'm taking my knowledge from this Summer and putting it to use. If he was interested and wanted to work on things, he'd call me and get it going. Since it's been a week, and according to whatever K. looked-up on the web, (an invaluable source of information about relationships and emotions) that means he'll probably never call, I'm letting it go.

At this point, I just have to look at it as a positive thing. During those four years that I didn't date, it wasn't like I never got hit on or asked out, or whatever. It was more that I couldn't find a guy I was interested in and I wasn't willing to settle. Some of the guys I met, had a few things I liked, but then about fifty other red flags and a lot of them were like this other guy I met recently here in Iowa City. The first thing he told me was that he considered himself an intellectual (gross) and then he said he was an alcoholic (strike two) and finally he admitted that he had a trust fund. So, basically he could have been a little more efficient with his words by just approaching me and saying, "Hi. I'm an Iowa City cliche'" and I would have just assumed all the rest.

As I mentioned in my first post about him, Mr. Awesome was the first guy I had met in many, many years who met all the important criteria for me - he was open, and funny as hell and not afraid to admit he had feelings and of course, he was also really sexy. He kept asking me, "How could I have lived my whole life and not met you?" and he was like that for me too. So, I guess now I don't have to find out all the things that wouldn't have worked between us. He'll always be Mr. Awesome for me. And I still remain hopeful that there's at least one other guy just like Mr. Awesome, who will actually call me when I give him my number.

I've Been Waiting to Awaken From These Dreams

Here is a picture of the condom/lubricant machine in the bathroom of my friend C.'s bar. There should be something there for all of your needs, and a bargain for just 75 cents.

I am so pissed at my computer or blogger or whoever's responsible. I can't upload photos to Blogger the way I normally do. Now, I have to go the Photobucket and make an html code for them and then copy and paste that into my post. It's kind of a pain in the ass, and more importantly, I'm worried that there's some kind of weird virus causing the problem. Wah.

So, tonight I watched the weirdest football game I've ever seen. Since it was on network television, we could go to my friend James' house and watch it in high def on his movie theater sized screen. Normally, that is really awesome. Tonight, it was more of a sloppy mess (that wasn't just the rainy, muddy field) and no one scored even one point until the very end of the game. I was kind of bored and tired with it, but because of my special powers, I was afraid that if I went home and stopped watching, the Steelers would lose, or worse it would go into overtime and ultimately the game would never end. So, I stayed and the Steelers won 3 -0. I think they said that's the 6th game the Dolphins have lost by three points this season. Weird.

For those of you who hate football, and America and apple pie, I'm trying to think of an ending for this post that will interest you...Um, sometimes when I get really tired, I think I see things out of the corner of my eyes, plus as my friend Jo Anne pointed out, being old and tired makes my face look like it did when I was tripping and 19 years old. So, maybe that's why almost no one doses past the age of forty - we can just get all sleep-deprived instead. That's enough...Okay, too much bullshit for one blog post. I'll just try and get some sleep, because feeling all sleep-deprived at work is one really bad trip.

After Midnight We're Gonna Shake Your Tambourine

Here is a photo of a dark hallway.

Dear Gentle Readers,

Today I was a total marshmallow. It was great.

I'm just writing another quick post in order to comply with the NABloMe quota of one a day this month. Since I'm going out soon and won't probably be back until after midnight. I'm writing now. The good thing for you, is that I won't be writing later when I'm drunk, because we've already witnessed that horror before, and I like you all too much to put you through it again. The bad thing is, that I don't have time to fashion any kind of interesting post - or any post at all, really. So, here it is. It's a picture of a dark walkway and me writing an entire paragraph of absolutely nothing.

Love me,

Churlita

Frost Had Bit the Ground Below

Well, whatdya know? It snowed some here this evening. Stinky had to celebrate it by, what else? Taking photos of herself in it

It's kind of weird writing around the holidays when you know very few people are going to read it. In some ways it's kind of freeing. Who knows? Maybe on an evening when I'm not so tired, I might just get a little philosophical or something. Tonight though, I'm wiped out. My getting philosophical would probably sound something like this: Derrrrr. Uh, duh....What was I going to say?

My goal for tomorrow, (because a girl always has to have a goal) is to bring my deflector shield to my aunt's to try and protect myself from the guilt that will surely get thrown at me. Over the phone, my aunt already told me that she wasn't going to make too many sides, because it's not like me and the girls will ever stay for very long. I was really good and didn't bite. Instead, I just said, "You're right. We probably won't need a lot of extra food." Good of me, huh? We'll see how I hold up tomorrow when I'm in the thick of it.

That's about all I got tonight. I have to sleep so I can get up, go running, shower, make au gratin potatoes and leave town by 11'ish. How much do you want to bet that I leave a little later than I'm supposed to?

Cause All My Rowdy Friends are Back on Monday Night

Guess what time it is? That's right, it's time for more of Stinky's self-portraits. No camera you say? That's what cell phones are for. This first one is after I gave stinky a haircut. Oh, and look. She managed to capture the dirty clothes in the hamper behind her. Nice shot.

You know how Stinky likes to take a million photos of herself? Well, Coadster is not all that hip to it. We have just as many pictures with Coadster hiding her face in her hands, which just makes it even more fun to try to photograph her.

I'm not sure what Stinky sprays on the mirror to make it all weird and cloudy, but it's kind of an interesting effect. Here she's actually wearing her glasses...And my shirt without having asked permission first.

Hey, there's our old camera. Oh camera, we hardly knew ya.

Many people have accused Stinky and I of making the same dorky, smirking faces when photographing ourselves. I'll just address that by saying, yeah. So?

Tonight I went to my friend James' house to watch the Steelers on Monday Night Football on his GIGANTIC screen in high def. It was so very awesome, and The Steelers kicked such serious ass. During the beginning of the second half, my friend James said, "Damn. The Steelers have gone over five minutes without a touchdown. I'm starting to get bored." You want to know how powerful I am? The only two games The Steelers lost so far this season, are the two that I haven't watched. Talk about a super hero power.

The only problem with watching football with K. and I if you're a guy, is that we talk a lot about how hot certain players are. At one point, James' roommate came into watch for a bit and James said, "Hey, Joel. I guess this guy is particularly handsome." So, maybe we commented on it a little excessively. You would too if you had seen him, and what's the point of watching football anyway, if you can't ogle the players?

I'm in the Mood, The Rhythm is Right

Here is a photo of a bunch of pumpkins put on a pedestal.

Whew! Remember how yesterday I thought I had a hangover after drinking only two. Count 'em, two pints of beer? Well, I must have been high too, because even though I'm the biggest pussy about handling alcohol, even I can't get hungover for two days from drinking two pints. That's right. I woke up this morning, and still had a migraine. Not to be confused with a hangover. Fucking duh.

So, yeah. I woke up with a migraine on a Monday and couldn't find my window scraper, so I was cranky even before I dropped the girls off at school. Then work was busy and sucked ass. In the evening I went to another junior high band concert - which wouldn't be so bad if it wasn't on a Monday night and if it didn't last way too long and if the seventh graders could keep time and/or play their instruments. After we got home, my girls totally bogarted the Guitar Hero 3, and when they finally let me on it, they laughed at me for looking like a total dork. I am well aware that I look like a dork no matter what I do, but I can't imagine anyone looking dignified while holding a miniature pretend plastic guitar and pressing buttons along to the tune of "Slow Ride" - that includes my "cooler than thou" teenage daughters.

In light of all my general crankiness, I'm going with my strengths and taking the easy, sleazy, cheesy route of looking at the Google searches that led people to my blog. Since I've already probably written too much of an intro, I promise I'll only do ten or so.

1. Last week, someone Googled the name of the guy who was my arch enemy in junior high, and the name of the small suburb on the Southside of Chicago where we lived at the time. I hope it was the guy, because even thirty years later, I want him to know what an asshole he was to everyone. Hey, here's a question, do you think the people who were mean in junior high and high school, know they were heinous and feel any guilt later in life?

2. My latest search, isn't all that funny, but it's certainly true, "You gotta front". What do you think they were looking for? Examples of why one would want to front, if one indeed felt it necessary to do so?

3. "Tequila Mockingbird Roller". At first I thought this might be some kind of weed reference, but judging from the other results, it's really a roller derby term. They must have been really disappointed when they wound up on my blog. Almost as sad as all those hundreds of people who still come to my blog looking for "shaved dudes". Sorry to disappoint. I'm not even attracted to shaved dudes.

4. "Picture of a silver spoon in your mouth". Sorry, dude. That's about the last thing you'll see on my blog. Now, if you want to see a picture of a plastic spoon in my mouth, or better yet, a bendy straw, let's talk. That could easily be arranged.

5. "Girl showing tits Iowa Hawkeye" - Um, no. Just no. I'm sure there are plenty of sites for that though.

6. "Photo glamour girl" - See number five.

7. "Endorphins cute" - Finally someone ended up at the right place. I like to think my endorphins are fucking adorable.

8. "Famous people who did mushrooms" - I wish I was the authority on that. Don't you want to know which famous people did mushrooms? My guess is, all of them.

9. "Sex with the big woman" - Again, I can't help you there, pal. I do think it's interesting that they want to have sex with the big woman and not a big woman. I'm glad they have some kind of standards.

10. "Hooker shoes in Houston" - I wish I could help this person out, I really do. I wish I had hooker shoes and I wish that I could wear them in Houston. If you ever see me in Houston, I promise I will be wearing hooker shoes.

11. "Oh life's gonna bring you down" - Don't I know it, pally. Don't I know it.

All Of It Was Made For You and Me

Here is a picture of some feet and some shoes...Some very white shoes.

Kids, I just want to say, I know I done you wrong yesterday and I'm sorry. Can we still hang-out if I promise to be better about only using the same post once? It's just that I looked down the week and saw what was coming and I had to take Monday night to clean, or I knew there wouldn't be another chance. Does it help when I tell you my house is nice and tidy right now?

Okay, whatever. Let's just lay it all out for you. Tonight I had to pick girls up and then I went running and then came home and started making dinner, before I had to take girls to a volleyball game at the high school. I then had almost an hour before I picked girls up and then dropped other girls off at their houses and came home, cleaned my kitchen and got ready for tomorrow. See what I mean? It's all so crazy making, and I know it's what we all deal with in our own ways everyday.

Tomorrow will be just as busy, but the girls will be at their dad's house and he has his car fixed, so he can actually do some of the driving for once. Yeeeee Haaaaaaaw! What am I going to do instead? Well, I'm going to run around with girls, but just different ones. I'm finally going to cash in that rain check with my friend from last week for beer right after work. Then I'm going to leave that and meet some friends at George's so we can walk from there to Devotay to celebrate my friend T.'s birthday. Because T. was so awesome and fun on my birthday, I'm going to try really hard NOT to make happy hour evolve into sloppy evening. I hear it's all about moderation. I'll have to try that sometime.

Thursday night I may have to clone myself. Stinky is marching for the first time at the football game and Coadster has a cross country meet in Cedar Rapids. It would be great if their dad could have attended one thing and I could do the other, but he scheduled auditions for the play he's directing on that night without checking to see if it would work or not. That's all I'm going to say about that, because if I started, I might not stop. I think I'll have to skip Coadster's meet, since I just saw her run on Saturday and I don't want to miss Stinky's first marching band dealio.

Friday's kind of an open spot - which means I may do something, or I may just clean, dig around for sedatives and get ready for Saturday.

Saturday is Stinky's fourteenth birthday. Days like these were made for Valium. After last year, I originally said no more big parties, but then I caved. In my defense, she's been hanging with a different crowd these days - kids who are actually her age and don't seem to be the types to vandalize Taco Bell and bring all the plastic silverware and "Caution Wet Floor" signs to my house. Coadster will be at another DJ'ing gig in the Quad Cities and my friend A. won't be able to come over bearing wine like last year, so I won't have my people to help me. Actually, maybe days like these were made for a Valium, Xanax and beer cocktail.