I mean, I just started getting the hang of the
internet. I finally
get it. I understand that our alien overlords have dug, deep into the soil of this earth, a complex system of tubes and wires and through this we can all stay connected. I can finally almost visualize those near-invisible strands of fiber-optic cable that
stretch from
Bluetooth to
Bluetooth, letting me talk to you while you drink a cold Coors 16
ouncer and I stand in line for hours at the
Kwik-E-Mart. I realized that Steve Jobs and Bill Gates took a 70/30 split of all the hospital nurseries in the world and have systematically implanted little earwigs in our tiny brains during what they like to call the “hearing tests”
administered in the hospital at all our births,
creating Mac people and PC people. I get it. That’s not above my
intellegence level at all.
But the fact that my Wii can talk to your Wii? I will never, ever understand that.
You know what today is? Do ya, do ya? It’s the day my evil trinity is made complete! Eeeek!
See, I have three kids; 2 boys, 1 girl. And my friend Andy over here; 1 girl, 1 boy. Until today, that is……
All he has to do is have one more girl, and in 20 years or so we can start, through our grandchildren, to build the evil empire that will dominate the WORLD!
Everyone, please, say a little something to your god of choice for a girl. So that we can rule you as evil grand-overlords. Or something like that.
So much for that idea update:
My oh my, but is he ever a keeper. Details here.
Snarky update, upon further consideration:
It’s a caption contest! My contribution…..
Awww, look! He has his mother’s sweet nose and his daddy’s big mouth.
Others happily posted.
Remember the other day when I was all blah blah blah I’m a good momma blah blah rules blah blah discipline blah? Well, Molly was kind enough to point out to me that I better curb that shit fast, otherwise my kids might turn me in for child abuse, just like 75 million other American kids.
LOS ANGELES—A chilling national poll of U.S. children ages 3 through 12
estimated that nearly 75 million youngsters suffer both physical and
psychological abuse at the hands of their parents on a daily basis.
Read it here.
Top 7 random requests of the week, in order of randomness…
- I want potty. Which is great, really, except that potty means ramp for Polly Pocket car or something to go pee pee right next to.
- I want Wii.
Even if she possessed the required eye-hand coordination, they’d never give her a turn.
- I want boobies. Um, dude…I stopped nursing you, like, 8 months ago. Move on.
- Hey, before you give that prom dress to charity, let me see it a sec…
- I want bah. As in bath. Which is nice when it’s all this,
but honestly, this kid likes spending her days coated in a 3 pound layer of filth.
- I want shoe. One: you’re too young for a shoe thing, kid. Two: I hear they should go on your feet.
- I want yummanummy. Yummanummy is the single cutest word you could ever hope to hear your wee one say. Things that qualify as yummanummies:
- Gum. Which makes no sense to me, because it always ends up here in the end.
- Popsicles.
- Watermelon
- Pepsi. Not my favorite.
- And the Pièce de résistance:
Yes, broccoli is a yummanummy. I’m doing something right here, folks.
and it totally went to hell. My, oh my, is this city ever a drama queen. First, we set a record for rain this week:
We’re not talking an occasional shower, or a light sprinkling here; it rained buckets for 7 days straight. It’s July for Christ’s sake, and we’re wearing sweaters. This morning we got up, went outside and huddled in fear as we gazed upon the strange yellow orb in the sky. And then someone reminded us that it’s called the sun, and we’ve seen it before, and we should be ok.
That means no trash collection, no road workers, no outdoor maintenance, no nothing. It got really interesting when the inside workers joined the outside workers in the strike.
Interestingly enough, they are still writing parking tickets, but there aren’t enough parking enforcement officers available to show up in court if you contest your ticket, so if you’ve ever dreaming of parking illegally in downtown Van, now’s your chance!
More interesting (to me, at least) is that a city which is running on essential staff only has found a way to keep parking tickets coming, but has had to shut down all city-run daycare centers. Thousands of families are without childcare in a city where you need 4 3/7 full-time incomes to afford a loaf of bread, a gallon of milk and a stick’a butta. But don’t you
dare park on Robson past three.
I am happy to report that I do not technically live in Vancouver the city and therefore still have trash collection, access to outdoor public pools and the library, and we still have outdoor construction workers plugging away. Though maybe one company ought to have gone on strike, or at least a long coffee break, this morning.
(Whadaya mean, Vancouver’s going on strike? They’re going to screw up the Olympic construction timetable? Well, we can totally out-do them. Let’s bust this oil line that everyone knows is right here and fill the inlet with a ton of oil, kill off a few species of birds and fish, and then we’ll be the biggest bad-asses in British Columbia!)
This little oopsie is right down the street from me. Good thing I ran my errands yesterday, ’cause that street’s not gonna be open for a while.
