You know what I love? Purses. I love me some purses. All sorts of colors and sizes and styles, with long handles or no handles or dainty little chains for handles. I wish I could buy lots of purses and switch them out all the time but that's a hassle and even if you buy one of those little caddies to just plop into a new purse, your purses all have to be hollow (no inside pockets splitting it up) and all the same size. So instead I just lust after purses in the store like some pathetic hobo with an empty stick.
I hate cowl necks. They call them cowl necks because they're hoping you don't notice how much the act of wearing a cowl neck resembles the act of being born, through a very loose and flappy vagina. Seriously, who ever looked at a woman in a sweater and thought, "You know what would make her look better? Knit labia all around her collarbone there." Nobody. Nobody has ever thought that, because it is sick and wrong.
My son has a new favorite movie. For a year now his favorite movie has been Cars. You know what made him change it? Us, buying him a bunch of Cars things for Christmas. Now his favorite movie is How To Train Your Dragon. Crap.
I wonder if I can drink vinegar. I know I can choke down white wine, and that tastes like vinegar. And I do like vinegar and oil on my salads. But could I just do a shot of vinegar before meals. The reason I ask (yes, there is a reason) is that I read that drinking vinegar before meals somehow stops absorption of carbs or something, and people have lower blood sugar after the meal than if they hadn't drank vinegar. So that's good for diabetics, which I may someday be, but it also can help with weight loss. The article I read said that people lost up to 4 pounds a month just by doing this. I wonder if I can drink vinegar.
Why is the verb "absorb" and the noun "absorption"? I always want to use a 'b' and type "absorbtion" and spellcheck is always there with it's haughty red underline. Damn elitist spellcheck.
I don't like hunting. I don't like Sarah Palin. But I exponentially hate Sarah Palin's defense of hunting. Not because she's wrong about why it's okay for Alaskans to hunt but because she thinks people who hate hunting hate it for Alaskans. See, there are lots of parts of Alaska where you only get groceries every few months, due to the nearest store being 400 miles away. And those people live off dry goods and frozen food. So sometimes they have to hunt just to get food. Which is no big deal. It is not only no big deal, but it is world's apart from the guy who lives behind a Super Walmart and takes vacation time off work to soak himself in deer pee and go sit in a tree for 5 hours hoping to kill something for fun. I don't care if that guy eats it or not; he's killing it for the thrill of the hunt. Why is it that a kid stalking and killing feral cats in an alley is sick but a middle aged guy stalking and killing deer in the woods is fine? Is it better if the kid eats the cats? No, but it is if he's in the middle of freaking Alaska and the next pontoon boat full of bagged rice and Spam isn't due for another 3 months. So STFU Sarah Palin.
I like lima beans. I also like asparagus and brussels sprouts. But I never cook them because no one else likes them and faint gaggy sounds emanate from Ryan's chair at the table when she sees them. And I really like them. I should make them but it's just not worth the hassle of cooking an extra dish and then packing the leftovers into the fridge to mold in a Rubbermaid box.
I'm pissed at the people who stock Walmart. One tiny thing, and I'll just get it out of the way here, is that they can't tell thin spaghetti from spaghetti so when I go to buy spaghetti, the section for thin spaghetti is full of thin spaghetti, but then so is the section for regular, slightly thicker spaghetti. And since that space is full, no one ever orders the damn regular spaghetti! It seems like a simple thing to just buy the thin kind but the thin kind cooks faster than the regular kind and I mix my spaghettis half white and half wheat so they both have to cook the same. I buy bulk spaghettis and then mix them all up in a Tupperware box and it wouldn't work if I just up and added 7 minute spaghetti to my 10 minute spaghetti box just because some illiterate stockboy can't read the shelf tag. Also, they don't stock shit for little boy's clothes. Tons of stuff for girls but boys only get play clothes with trucks on it or geeky 3 piece suits. He's not in a wedding; he just needs something to open presents in and then spit up all over. A red sleep'n'play with a reindeer on it would suffice. But nope, nothing but dump trucks and church clothes, in a sea of red velvet girl clothes.
The absolute best way to get poop out of baby clothes (probably any clothes but I haven't crapped myself yet to check) is Irish Spring Icy Blast hand soap. Just scrub the clothes in the bathroom sink with a bar of soap (yes you have to touch the slimy orange poop for this to work) and even a white onesie can be saved. I don't know why, but it works better than Shout or Spray 'N Wash or Oxy Clean.
My husband tries to win arguments with reality. Do all men do this? He insists that the dishwasher should, by virtue of its name, actually wash the dishes, no matter the state they're in when he loads it. So if he puts in a frying pan full of grease and cooked on bits of blackness, he is absolutely shocked when he opens the dishwasher to find grease and bits of blackness inside all the glasses. I think that somewhere in his head, amid the reels of porn and football statistics, is the belief that the dishwasher is a machine which hums and makes sloshing sounds all while an army of tiny men with toilet brushes come out to scrub the dishes, look them over, and then scrub them again. The fact that it's basically just an out of control fire hose spraying scalding water in all directions inside a sealed box with no regard for how clean anything gets in the end, just never sinks through his head. It's insane, and it drives me insane.
A Vicks Vapor Inhaler, when put through the full laundry cycle, will come out only slightly less meth-tastic in the end. Its main ingredient is levmetamfetamine, which is chemically very similar to methamphetamine, which is why I call it my meth stick. I've been calling it that for 3 cold and flu seasons now and no longer think anything of it, until I ask Tom to go grab me a new meth stick in front of strangers at Walmart. Oops.