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50 Shades Of Grey: I’m Reading This Craptacular Book So You Don’t Have To. You’re Welcome.

I know, I know. Many seem to LOVE this cringeworthy, hot mess of a so-called book. Me? I’ve tried reading it twice and was only able to barely make it through the first few pages. But the movie is coming out next year and stars Mr. Hottie McHotster, Jaimie Dornan.

And yes, I will absolutely, positively see this craptastic masterpiece of a movie when it comes out on Netflix. Because I have a 5 year-old and have pretty much forgotten what a movie theater looks like.

I first noticed this gorgeous man, Jaimie Dornan, in Marie Antoinette, playing Count Fersen. Whooo! Is it getting hot in here? And I remember some scenes where he was grinding up against the lucky, lucky Kirsten Dunst.

Yeah, it is hot in here.

Now, I’m not a book snob by any means. I mean hello, I look forward to my US Weekly coming in the mail every week and may even do a happy dance when I see it. But 50 Shades Of Grey is pretty fucking awful. And that’s putting it mildly.

So, a few days ago I gave myself a little talk. I said “You know what, me? This craptastic book must be read! It’s not like you need to read it for the movie or anything. You must read it for the laughs.”

Keep in mind. There are a few universal truths:

1. Laughter really is the best medicine.

2. You need those guilty pleasures because life can be a pain in the ass.

3. Jaimie Dornan is such a hottie.

Now, this is where you may or may not come in. I would love for us to read this “book” together. And no, I won’t judge you if you’ve already read it. Or maybe even liked it. Okay, I probably will judge you but that’s besides the point. I promise not to hold it against you.

We need to read this book together, have some laughs, and snark the shit out of it.

I will try my best to give weekly updates on it and you are more than welcome to do the same. Whether you put your take on it in the comment section of my blog, on my FB page, or if you have your own blog and aren’t worried about your readers and/or family members questioning your life choices and sanity.

Whatever the case may be, if I have your permission, I’ll include your views of this book in the updates or link the post you write on your blog.

So, who’s with me?

Don’t worry, if you’re all for it and want to participate but then decide not to, no big deal.

So, ladies… this week, we will be reading the first 4 chapters.

Remember, Jaimie Dornan is counting on us!

Oh my, excuse me while I stick my head in the freezer and cool off.

Hot damn, this man is fine!

Hot damn, this man is fine!

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How To Survive A Visit From Your In Laws

1324012756612_5703688My in laws have finally left and surprisingly, I survived. I pretty much avoided them and stayed out of their way as much as possible. Unless of course they took us out to eat. Because HELLO, FREE FOOD! Who the hell doesn’t like a free meal?! Nobody, that’s who.

If I didn’t avoid them as much as I was able to, I would probably be writing this with pencil and paper from a prison cell. I would’ve been all Orange Is The New Black but really though, orange just isn’t my color.

Well, it isn’t really anyone’s color, except for maybe super hotties like Mark Ruffalo, Ryan Gosling, Chris Hemsworth, Liev Schrieber, or perhaps even the always gorgeous Kerry Washington and Robin Wright.

But I’m totally getting off point here.

For the low, low price of zilch, zero, nada, you too can follow these easy steps to survive your visiting in laws.

Take notes, people! There may be a pop quiz later on.

Step 1: Drink… A Lot. Vodka or wine in a coffee mug is a great choice. Especially one that has been hand painted by your child. It will look sweet and innocent but at the same time, you’ll be getting plastered. It’s a win win.

Hiding your alcohol intake will be one less thing your mother in law will judge you by and bitch about. It will also make it more tolerable and entertaining when your in laws tell you stories about your spouse growing up that you’ve heard 1oo times before.

Step 2: Fake an illness (cramps, bloating, pms, mad cow disease, problematic anal warts) and hide out in your bedroom with chocolate and a good book. Make sure to let out a few groans of pain in their presence.

Step 3: Fake raging diarrhea and hide out in your bedroom with chocolate and a good book. Nobody questions diarrhea. Ever.

Step 4: See steps 1-3.

Happy visiting!

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Like a bowl full of jelly.

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I absolutely hate wearing a bra and for years I thought I found a way to avoid putting one on by wearing a jacket.

I never said I was the brightest bulb.

I figured my big boobs would be hidden with a jacket so I wouldn’t have to wear that fucking elastic torture device. During the winter, my plan is pretty awesome since I wear a bulky coat that keeps the twins in line.

In the spring, I try to get away with wearing a jacket for as long as possible to avoid a bra, even when it warms up and I’ll be hot as hell with sweat dripping down my face and running down my armpits.

Anything is better than wearing a bra.

Last week, the hummingbird and I were walking into Target and I was wearing a sweater jacket to avoid the dreaded bra.

The bird was asking why I was wearing it since it was warm out.

Hummingbird: You don’t need a jacket, mommy. It’s nice out.

Me: I know, but I can’t take it off since I’m not wearing a bra.

Hummingbird: Why not?

Me: If I took my jacket off, then everyone can see my boobs jiggling all over and flapping around. My jacket hides that.

Hummingbird: But mommy, you’re boobs ARE flapping around all over the place. I can see them bouncing around even with the jacket.

Nooooo! I thought I found a bra loophole and while I assumed my boobs were under wraps, I’ve been a hot and sweaty mess by roasting in jackets that don’t cover these suckers up after all.

My plan has been foiled all this time without me realizing it. Damn it!

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Snap, Crackle, Pop!

I normally hate killing anything and after yelling for my husband to come kill a bug or spider, I always remind him not to kill it but to catch it and set it free outside. Usually he says uh huh, and then SMASH.

But occasionally he’ll roll his eyes at me and scoop the invading bug up with a tissue, then open the front door to set it free.

After moving to Maine over the summer, I found that mosquitoes and grasshoppers that I swear, would deliberately fly at my face just to fuck with me, were my enemy.

I was eaten alive for months because of these mosquitoes and was on a mission to kill those bastards after all. That’s when my husband came home one day with one of the most romantic things I’ve ever been given.

A bug zapper.

When he brought that thing home and plugged it in later that night, after I heard the sounds of snap, crackle, pop, he was so getting laid. We spend the last few months enjoying the sounds of that zapper.

Each night, hen I would hear the first ZAP sounds of the evening, I’d look over at my husband and say… “Die, Motherfucker, Die!” Then we’d look at each other and start laughing. What can I say, this thing entertained the hell out of us.

A few weeks ago, after I had cursed the first few bugs that crackled in the zapper, the bug crematorium started zapping the fuck out of something.

It was like the never-ending zap of mosquito death. We started laughing and I was like “What the hell is stuck in there… a bat?”

Because yes, one of our neighbors informed us that they had a bat stuck in their garage. Oh, HELL NO!

I’m not down with little vampire rodents that fly and give you rabies. Things that fly freak me out… expect birds but I only tolerate them. Or admire the cute little yellow birds that come to our backyard feeder when I’m safely enclosed in a house and looking out a thick glass window.

But having things flapping their little wings over my head…. nope.

Now that fall is here, the bug zapper has been unplugged and I no longer have to worry about mosquitoes that are so big, you could walk them on a damn leash. Till next year bug zapper… till next year.

*Tracy Bonham ~ Mother Mother

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After having the very serious conversations we have, the husband pointed out last night that Tom Hanks loves making films where his ass gets stuck. We have these really deep discussions so you don’t have to. You’re welcome.

Before the hubby and I were about to go to bed, Apollo 13 was on. That’s when my husband got to thinking and said what the hell is up with this guy. The dude gets stuck in space and in that other movie, he gets stuck on a deserted island with a soccer ball.

Because I’m such a serious writer *snort*, I did some “research” and went on imdb, looking up the films that Tom Hanks has done over the years. Yeah, I’m getting old and need a life.

Holy shit, the hubby was right!

Sure, this is probably overreaching but again, being the serious writer I am, ahem, I’ve compiled a list. Also, the guy sure has made some great movies.

Bosom Buddies - Tom is stuck having to dress like a woman to live in an apartment with his bosom buddy. Hilarity ensues.

Splash – The guy is stuck with a damn mermaid who’s name in mermaid speak will blow your fucking eardrums out. Hilarity ensues.

The Money Pit – Oh look at that, Tom is stuck with a house from hell that he bought with his girlfriend. Hilarity ensues.

Big – Love this movie. Once again, the guy is stuck… as a kid in the body of an adult. Hilarity ensues again.

Turner And Hooch- Surprise, surprise. Tom is stuck with a slobbery dog who is a witness to a crime. Hilarity ensues!

A League Of Their Own – No fucking way! Tom Hanks is stuck, yet again, this time coaching a womens’ baseball team that he wants no part of. Say it with me… hilarity ensues!

Forrest Gump – The dude is stuck in love with JENNY for years and years and years. Fuck that. Run, Forrest, Run!! Can’t hate on this film though because it’s awesome and I’ve watched it about 10 million times over the years. Hilarity doesn’t ensue in this one and people drop like flies.

Apollo 13 - Once again… Tom gets stuck… in space… with Bill Paxton and Kevin Bacon. Tom, sweetie, will you ever fucking learn? No? Okay, continuing on.

Cast Away – Huh, look at that. Tom Hanks is once again stuck. This time on an island with his beloved soccer ball, Wilson. I mean… WIIIILLLLLSSSSOOOONNNNN! *enter crying*

The Terminal – Shocker! Hold on to your seats, people. Tom is stuck in an airport for many months. Hilarity, once again, ensues.

I’m sure I’m probably missing more movies, but this nap isn’t going to take itself.

Stuck On You

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Edward Lobstah Hands

Yesterday, my husband said he needed help with dinner. Of course I rushed down right away… after I took a shower and read some emails. Because I’m helpful like that. Ha!

I went downstairs into the kitchen and the first thing my husband said was to look into a boiling pot that was on the stove.

Ummmm…. Uhhh….

If it’s a boiled bunny in there, I’ll be wicked pissed, yo!

I had absolutely NO IDEA what to expect. None… nada, no clue.

I slowly opened up the lid. That’s when I saw an antennae… IN. THE. POT. It said, hey you, I’m coming to getcha!

Probably.

lobster-11

I screamed like mad and ran the hell out of there. The hubby was loving it. Butthead.

When he took them out of the pot and let them cool down, he took the heads of the lobstahs and did some lobstah commentary.

“Hello, there. I’m delicious and I’m gonna get you!”

Butthead.

When he took the meat out that’s what she said, he strategically placed the lobstahs into the trash so the antennae would stick out… yeah, just to fuck with me.

Well played, my man, well played.

The lobstah was amazing and since I’m a food moaner, I pulled a When Harry Met Sally, that I’m sure the whole neighborhood could hear.

lobster-22

My husband considers this our induction to being true New Englanders.

Also, that damn lobstah is still in the trash can with its antennae sticking out.

Butthead.

lobster-hands11

* I let the hummingbird pick the song.

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I hate shaving my legs. But when I do, I’m a sloppy, drunken, hot mess without the drunk part. You could say I’m the Courtney Love of shaving.

shaving-legs

I’ve always had a hate/hate relationship with shaving my legs. Despite it not being brain surgery, I’m really bad at it. I’ve seen those bitches in the shaving commercials, making it look so easy.

My balance sucks when shaving. I end up looking like a cross between Bambi learning to walk and stepping on hot coals. With the hummingbird’s bath toys taking up most of the tub space, I have just a teeny tiny bit of space to rest my foot on.

I wear contacts and occassionally glasses and it seems when I decide to shave, I don’t have my contacts in yet so I can’t see a damn thing I’m doing.

The first thing I usually do is shampoo my hair and leave it on for a few minutes while I shave my armpits. As I’m shaving, the shampoo starts getting into my eyes and I’m feeling all around for a towel to wipe my face. No such luck.

And I have no idea why I just don’t stop washing my hair when shaving. It’s out of habit, I guess.

I rinse off and blindly try to get the shaving cream onto my legs as the shower is pounding on my back and splashing in my face.

It’s like fucking water torture.

Since my eyes are still burning from the soap that got in them and water is splashing on the back of my head and dripping down the side of my face, I can’t see shit.

I lean over more to get near my ankles and accidentally get water tortured with water again.

I’m holding my breath as I try to shave as best as I can and move on to the next leg.

I can’t take anymore and think that’s good enough.

When I’m finally out of the shower and dry off, I put on body butter and as I’m rubbing it into my legs, I see 2 or 3 long hairs near my ankles that looks like I’ve missed shaving them for a month.

There is ALWAYS those few long hairs I find somewhere on my legs after I shave each time. I’ll be thinking, finally, a success with shaving. And I always find those hairs I didn’t get while shaving.

WHY? WHY, leg hair? Why do you have to be such an asshole!

So, that’s usually my awkward and not at all graceful shaving technique.

One of these days, I’d like to see a REAL shaving commercial that shows a woman in the shower, hopping around as she struggles to shave her legs by being hit in the head and back with water, causing her to drown.

*No Doubt

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