Blogger’s Block

Subtitled: My kid is still ridic cute but I have nothing else to say about him right now.

Ughhhh. So little motivation to sit down for an hour and type anything out. So it’s not really a writer’s block, I suppose. More like an energy lack. So many other things to do, both important and not so much. CSI: Miami can really pull you in.


I’m stumped on what to post. I had a first plane trip post semi-done, but that was mid-August so it seems moot. I have a we-took-an-epic-road-trip idea in my head, but can I do that without the plane trip background? I have more gripes about pinterest, a blogging flow chart, autumn photos, nursery photos, a video of Little A rolling over and then me calling him a dummy, a post about how I apparently rock as a domestic goddess.

None of these are remotely finished. Some aren’t even started. But I’ll finish one this week. I’ll even give you guys a say. IT IS ELECTION SEASON AFTER ALL. PRACTICE THEM VOTING SKILLZ.

Vote today, I’ll write tomorrow. And maybe post on Thursday. Or Friday. GOD I AM TERRIBLE AT THIS.

You have your instructions. This blog will not self-destruct because that would be dumb.

Hanging chads are your responsibility.


How’s THAT for a cop out blog post?! None of them are even good ideas.

ALSO if there’s anything you’ve been dying for me to write about, I’d love to hear it. I may even consider it. If you’re lucky.

Things I’ve Learned from Pinterest

Pinterest is…really something. There are a few awesome things. There are a few things that will make you go hmmm. But then there are atrocious things that should have never seen the light of day and the person responsible for them should be locked in a basement and given lotion in a basket made of an old t-shirt.

In Lieu of Cupcakes and Friends – Send these monstrosities to school with your poor kid.

Here is what I know thanks to dedicated pinners:

Everyone is getting married. EVERYONE.

People like things in jars. Cookies in jars, candles in jars, soup in jars, cottage cheese in jars, flowers in jars, DVDs in jars. You $^!%ing name it, you %&#! put it in a jar. And then Pin It.

People like alcohol soaked items. Like gummy bears. Or strawberries. Or more alcohol. Actually, Pinners just @$^@ love to imbibe. Period.

People like all things red velvet. ALL THINGS. I’m not even going to expound on this one further, because I already have and I fear tossing my cookies. THAT ARE NOT RED VELVET.

This pin led me to create a board entitled: OH GOD, THE HORROR.

Everyone thinks they are Martha Stewart. EVERYONE. Newsflash: NO.

People like cheese. You could take anything and cover it in cheese and people would pin it. Twigs? Bark? Tires? Cover them in cheese! FIBER! CHEESE! FIVE BILLION PINNERS AGREE!

People like buffalo chicken but ONLY when it isn’t actually buffalo chicken. Wraps, casseroles, pancakes. Buffalo. I have yet to see an actual wing recipe, but I’ve seen every variation on the damn flavor.

Everyone loves cake (and therefore everything Cake Batter flavored), yet…

Everyone is on a diet.

WTF IS DUMP CAKE AND WHY DOES EVERYONE GO SHIT BALLS CRAZY FOR IT?? See Also: Garbage Bread. Filed under things with unfortunate monikers.

I just…I don’t know. I’ve gotten a few decent ideas, but man. Sometimes I question the future of humanity with the pins I see. There should be a rule that if you pin it, you should have to do it. I would love to see ALL THE RESULTS of that. Mine included.

Now spill it – what have you learned from Pinterest? Anything I should add to my board of horrors?

Here’s the Thing About Red Velvet



I fail to understand the appeal of this foodie fad.

Red velvet came about because of the reaction of the buttermilk and vinegar with cocoa powder back in the day or some crap like that. It was not developed to be a @#$@!% fashion statement of sweets. It’s honestly just Devil’s Food.

Not to say it doesn’t have its place. It does. As Armadillo Cake. And maybe some recipes do taste different…but the majority of the recipes I see are a relatively basic chocolate cake. With dye. Gross.

Alright, it looks neat. It’s dramatic, it’s pretty and that’s fine. But it’s the influx of red velvet flavored products that’s hork worthy.

Shit like Red Velvet hot cocoa? Just hot cocoa. It probably doesn’t taste any different than the Swiss Miss cocoa packets in your pantry. You may think it tastes different but it’s just psychosomatic. But if you want to be hipster and spend extra money on it, by all means. The economy thanks you.

And so help me god if you go banana sandwich crazy for Red Velvet Cake Balls.

Ugghhhh and don’t even get me STARTED on Cake Balls. Or Cake Pops. Or whatever the shit you call them.

But that’s another post.

Red Velvet cake is a way to deliver delicious cream cheese frosting to your facehole, you say? EAT CARROT CAKE. Get some veggies. Less Red Dye #40.

I don’t get it.

But you know what I find even more appalling? As seen on Pinterest: BLUE, GREEN OR BLACK VELVET CAKES.

What the !@#%@  $%@ is wrong with you people!? Save the food coloring for the frosting*. Or don’t dub them all “velvets”. Call it what it is: COLORED !@#%!ING CAKE. And adding food coloring to box cake mix is not a “recipe” so you’re not Martha Stewart. You’re Sandra Lee. And you suck.

What’s next? Red Velvet Pie? Red Velvet Brownies? Red Velvet Souffle? Red Velvet Casserole?

Shit. I just gave you all ideas, didn’t I?

I just. don’t. get. it.


*Exception: Those rainbow layer cakes at kids birthdays are pretty cute. But I must emphasize KID birthday. And it’s sad I have to stipulate that.



Screamin’ Demon

After last Friday’s LOOK AT ME post, I realized I have a ton of photos lined up to share with anyone who will look. So I am hereby (unofficially, because I don’t stick to things for very long) launching Photo Friday. Or Photo Phriday. Or Foto Friday. Whatever, I’m just going to start posting a shitton ton of pictures on Fridays of various shit.

Check out Angry Baby.

!@#$! Baby: On Fingernails

Hey. !@#%@ Mom.

Grow some balls and trim my fingernails. With fingernail trimmers. It’s demeaning to have you bite my nails to shorten them. I mean, come on. I realize my nails are paper $^!# thin and still attached to my skin and the chance of you clipping me is high, but still. Come on. I’m almost a grown ass man. If I had the dexterity I would trim them myself. If I had money and a means of conveyance, I would go get a manicure. But I don’t and I am relying on you. And you’re failing. For %&@!s sake, I heard through the grapevine that you won’t even trim the dog or cat nails.

You’re soooo braaave.

Did you catch that sarcasm?

Don’t even get me started on my toenails. They are weird and crooked and they scratch both of us and you are just ignoring the problem. I don’t CARE if you can’t actually trim them. Find a solution before I draw blood from one of us.

Thanks for nothing,

The !@$@ Baby.


Hey, @!#$%! Baby.

Get your father to do it. I ain’t touching that shit. I’d prefer to not make you bleed. Or, stop flailing and maybe I’ll give it a go.

Love you even though you slice my neck up like Freddie Krueger.