Memoir Monday - The Shit Edition

I really like this new Memoir Monday button. Last night, Tee was going back through my blog and catching up on the posts I'd written lately. It's always funny to listen to her while she's doing that, because it makes me laugh at the shit I posted all over again. When she finished reading them she said two things.
"I feel empty inside when I'm all caught up and don't have more to read." and
"Uh, your stupid ass forgot to do Memoir Monday. Like a couple times in a row, dumbass."

Er, well...something along those lines anyway, but it's true, I did forget. I remembered today and that's all that counts. Right?

I finally thought of a poop story!

When my parents bought the house in Price Hill that they still live in today, I was 6 years old. My sister was 12, Laine was 11, and Donovan was only 4. We had a little white pomi-poo named Hank. At the time, the house was occupied by a family of renters. The previous owner decided to sell and I'm not sure of the entire story, but either the renters wanted to buy it and couldn't or the owner wouldn't sell to them. For whatever reason, they didn't want to move. As a result, they stopped putting their trash out on the curb and instead slung it out the backdoor into a corner. (It took my parents two months to set it all out for collection.) They also allowed their cats to piss in the house, broke huge holes into the walls in several of the rooms, didn't cut the grass, and who knows what else that I just don't remember from 30 years ago. Their son, Daniel, had scratched his name into the plexiglass window of the back door, which stayed there for 10 years before my dad replaced it. (Daniel ended up in prison for strangling his girlfriend or some shit.)

There were 3 bedrooms upstairs, but because one of them had huge holes in the walls, my brothers had to share a very small room where they had bunk beds. One day I was looking for Hank to play with, and couldn't find him. I'm looking all over the place, and finally find him hiding under the bottom bunk. When I reached under to get him, he growled at me. I was a little freaked out by this, so I go get my mother.

She looks under the bed and can see that Hank is chewing on something under there. She reaches under and pulls Hank out, still holding onto his prize - a pair of boys underpants. The dog actually fights her to keep his grip on the underpants, but my mother eventually manages to get them away. To find that they are full of shit. Remember, he was a pomi-poo. Ironic? You decide.

She gives me the dog, and reaches back under the bed and pulls out a handful of Donovan's little underpants, each full of various amounts of dried poopy. Some had been chewed on (by the dog, not Donovan, if you were wondering). Apparently, Donovan (who was potty trained) had been crapping in his drillies and then shoving them down between the mattress and the wall, for Hank to find and enjoy. He probably still poops his pants to this day. (I mean, his mom is still doing everything else for him, why not cleaning up after his shitty drawers too.)

And that is the only poop story I can think of. Except for the one time when someone found paper towels full of shit stuck to the ceiling of the bathroom where I worked. And I didn't have to deal with that so it's not much of a story. Although I'm really having a hard time calling a 4 year old's shitty britches something worthy of the 6 o'clock news.

The Bacon Report (II)

Once again, I have collected a veritable greasy smorgasbord of bacon search terms on my google analytics, and as the Bacon charter stipulates, I am now entitled to share those with you. I had some very delicious bacon sandwiches yesterday, and I find it very sad that I'm not currently eating one. That really has nothing to do with anything, I'm just hungry right now. Talking about bacon does that to me.



1) Bacon Costume – To be honest, I never would have thought to be The Bacon for Halloween, but now? Totally. I was actually kind of inspired by the Bacon Care of Bizniz video, and then I got this search result on analytics, and decided I would search for it myself. Now if I can just get MJ to wear the egg costume…..and carry a juicebox…..

2) Bacon energy drink – I have seen many recipes for alcoholic beverages that have the Bacon in them, but so far, no luck on the energy drinks. I’m not really sure how that would taste anyway. I mean, I love the Bacon, but it’s meant to be eaten. I really can’t say I approve much of perversion of the Bacon like this.I would suggest eating a few slices of bacon while enjoying a Lo Carb Monster.

3) Who ate my bacon? – the Fuck? That’s what I’d like to know. If someone ate my bacon, there’d be Hell to pay. But really, can you blame a person….you’ve got a loverly stack of the Bacon sitting there, waiting for lunchtime, and someone else sees it, and says I must have this bacon…and they just eat. You’d do the same, my friend, you’d do the same.



4) Smells like bacon in this motherfucker – Now that’s what I’m talkin' 'bout! The Bacon air freshners, the Bacon scented candles, frying up some of the Bacon in a skillet, the Bacon cologne. It’s all good. Now they just need to come up with the Bacon fabric softener.

5) Marshmallow fluff bacon fudge – Well I couldn’t find one made with fluff, but if you want a chocolate bacon fudge recipe, go here. Chocolate and bacon. Fuck me.

6) I want to cover myself in bacon – Shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit. Who doesn’t, bitch?

7) Where to buy bacon flavored lube? You will be able to eventually buy it here. They are testing it out, and supposedly, it’s not a joke. However, don’t count on it actually being made with real bacon. I have bought their bacon mayo product in the past, and was sorely disappointed.

8) Is it against the law to marry bacon? That depends on if you mean Kevin Bacon, or the actual the Bacon. I doubt there are any laws governing this, because as much as I love bacon and oft times joke about it being MY LOVER, I wouldn’t ever actually haul 150 pounds of it into a church and marry it. Because that’s just fucking crazy.

9) Banana bacon bread - I don’t have a recipe for this one, but I’m sure if you really wanted to do it, you could crumble up some bacon and add it to the batter. It’s called experimentation, and I am for it in all aspect of life.

10) Bacon is my life – Then you’ve come to the right place! Ok, you’ve come to the right place even if bacon isn’t your life. If you need more baconspiration, I've got plenty of awesome links in the sidebar. There are people in this universe who are even more obsessed with bacon than I am.



The search term last month that made me laugh the most actually was not a bacon related search term.

Spicy pork grinds make you poop.


Just let that sink in a minute.


I happen to have two bags of spicy pork “grinds” in the kitchen at this very moment. I am now tempted to go in there and eat both bags, so that I will then have a poop story to tell you about. Very, very tempted. Maybe if I do that, Badass will give me one of his buttons. Or maybe I’ll try to talk MJ into eating them for me, and if he wins a button, I’ll just take it. Because that’s how I roll.

A Day In the Life of.............Me

I truly thought about waiting to write this post until I was good and fucking wasted (which is not this evening, as I will be painting tomorrow, and if I’m hungover, I won’t paint) just so I could talk about myself and not piss my pants from laughing, or stick my finger down my throat in an effort to distract my brain from the drivel I’m likely to spew about myself. Because no way do I think I'm the awesome motherfucker that everyone else.... ok my family... MJ at least? fine then just... the cat thinks I am.

I got this award from Maggie, my Meg, my sweet brother from another mother, my lover from down under, my...... wait a minute, I’m not entirely sure I’m not drunk after all that shit. Moving on.

Here it is.

Can’t you just picture me???? I mean, I’d be like one of those Zombies that are totally real by the way in the movies that eat your face off. And I’d do it for the least little shit too, don’t doubt me, or you won’t have a nose by the time you get to the end of this post.

I don’t have to pass it on, but if I do, I’m supposed to pick those people that I think have the balls to handle it. Those in my collection of blogger friends who will as soon punch you in the cock as look at you. I honestly think most of you are really nice, and as I thought about it, I wasn’t sure how many of you would actually take a shit in a jar and leave it on your ex husband’s porch steps, and then proudly admit you did it. (I totally made that up, I’ve never done it, but MJ, watch out if we ever get divorced because I will so do that to you.)

Pikachu, I choose you. Or in other words I’m gonna go with:

Pamajama at Twisted Family Antics
Noelle at Elastic Waistbands and Comfortable Shoes
Eloh at Elohssanatahw
Mepsipax at The Adventures of Being A Dick
Amanda at Martinis or Diaper Genies

These are the killers I’d take with me to a bar fight in Price Hill where my only weapons would be a broken beer bottle and my incredible lightening fast reflexes... and my astounding wit...fuck...and my dad. I wanted to also bring Travis at I Like To Fish along for the ride (he could sit on Pam’s lap) but I was afraid he’d hurt me if I made another joke about him. You don’t fuck around with them Okay boys. You make one joke about a shart, and they go all Zombie face biter on your ass. Oh wait. That’s kind of the point.... so fuck yeah! You’re back on the list Travis!

I Really Wish I Had Some Good Shit Stories, Those Seem To Be Really Popular Lately

My cell phone rings. I don't recognize the number, but I answer anyway. MJ was out. He'd gone to the condo association meeting to complain once again about the Fucktards, so maybe it was him? Or maybe it was Scotty McHottleton calling me about the date again - weather's going to be bad tomorrow. Who knows? So I answer.

Me: Hello?
Anonymous caller: Hey Heather! What's up?
Me: Oh, nothing.......ummm, who is this?
Anonymous: It's me, Kay.
Me: Kay? Er....Kay? (My BFF's name is Kay, but this didn't sound like her at all, so I was confused.)
Kay: Yeah, you know, your cousin... KAY.
Me: Oh. Uh, do I have a cousin named Kay?
Kay: This is Heather?
Me: Yes.
Kay: Heather Claxton?
Me: Ahhh, no. Not that Heather! LOL
Kay: Oh that would explain it, sorry! LOL
Me: No problem. ~click~

I get a lot of wrong numbers. I mean way more than the average person does, and how weird was that one?


So I am sitting here in the living room with my dryer spilling it's guts all over the floor and sofa. And guess what? Yeah, pretty sure I can't fix that fucker. I had good intentions, but once we got it apart, we really had no idea what could be wrong. There aren't that many parts to it, and the belt seems fine, but my dad's thought is that it's the bearing on the back of the drum, or some other expensive part. It looks like we'll be buying a new one tomorrow morning. I was offered two different free, used ones, but I don't really want to inherit someone elses problems. Besides, when I pulled the back off the dryer, I sucked up 4 inches of lint. Every surface in the dryer was covered, including all the wires. That scares the SHIT out of me. I would rather buy a new one, and know it's relatively less likely to start a fire.

We are expecting some super shitty weather this weekend, so Tee's date may be cancelled, we probably won't get to go shopping for Lloyd's birthday or see him for it, and Tee has a solo and ensemble contest for band that also stands a chance to be cancelled. MJ did make it to the condo meeting at least, and a letter will be sent out early next week warning the Fucktards about the thumping and stereo in specific, and the late night laundry and loud appliances in general. I'm bracing myself for the fallout. It's been quiet today, but she spent the previous 48 hours doing nothing but thump her walnut sized brain out.

I did very poorly on my so-called diet this week, and this is looking to be a beer filled weekend.

And that's a wrap, lovers.

A Manner of Speaking

I may have mentioned a few days (or weeks or months, whatev, you know I got CRS bitches, so shut it) ago that Tee went on a date. I didn't mean it was her first date ever, just her first date with that particular boy. She'd been dating some loser other guy for a year and a half, who never actually took her out on any dates. He was just sort of tagged along with everything she did with us or her dad. When she broke up with him, he immediately deleted her from his Facebook. But he did not delete myself, my husband, Enrique, or the Kraken. ??? Then he re-added her. Ummmkay.

This date was with a nice young man who has known her from school for a few years. However, Tee is not seeing him exclusively and went to a school dance at the last minute with another boy from school, and this Friday, she has a date with a drummer from our pipes and drums band, Eoghan. He's actually from Scotland, although he has been here so long he doesn't really have an accent.

His dad, though. Oh yeah, he's got a Scottish accent. He called me tonight to make sure I was ok with Tee being driven around by his son to the movies on Friday. Before he called, Eoghan told Tee that his parents wanted to call and talk to me about it, so I knew one of them would be calling.

It just so happens that MJ does a fairly good Scottish impression. He's a very talented mimic, actually. The problem is, he slips into another "voice" so easily that he has actually mimicked the person he was talking to at the time. Whoopsie. For a little while leading up to "the phone call", we were all sitting around in the living room, discussing that and other things, and all the while MJ was talking with his Scottish accent. We were laughing of course, and he was teasing Tee and telling her he was going to talk like that in the background when Eoghan's parent's called.

I was actually surprised that it was his father, rather than his mother. We had a short conversation in which I spoke very little, so as to encourage him to talk in his incredibly hot accent. Hot, girls, hot, I'm tellin' ya.

What was weird about the whole thing was that he knows who I am, but I don't know who he is. He told me he's seen me at band practice. I've seen Eoghan, obviously, but there are a number of people who come to the practice that I don't know who they are. I was trying to figure out if I knew which one he was, because Tee knows him. I couldn't figure it out.

MJ said it doesn't much matter, since I'm already taken. I can still drool, though.

AWWWWWWWW YEAH!!!

Celebrity News and Celebrity Pics



Last night we sat down to watch our favorite show, which happens to be House. The opening scene featured Hugh Laurie aka my lovah Dr. House, taking a bath. The bathtub had these rounded sides that I liked so I said:

"Look at that tub! I really like that!"

"Mmmeeee too! It's got a naked Dr. House in it!"

I'll give you one guess as to who said that.

Why Do I Do These Things?

I took Tee to the "clinic" at the drugstore. I've been there myself before and it's much faster and easier than going to the doctor. All I wanted was some pink eye drops and a note for the school. The intake nurse was very pleasant, and while we were being assessed, I noticed an extensive collection of "quick diagnosis" books on the shelf. Umm? Please don't tell me you have to crack out one of those books, ever. That does NOT give me confidence in using this service. I don't remember them being there last time I was in, and they have access to a computer. Wouldn't it be easier to pretend you know what you're doing by having your quack database on the pc instead? I'm easy to fool, but the books sitting out on the desk are a dead give away.

After we got to see the nurse practitioner, I realized by the time we were done that she was drunk. Ok, so maybe she wasn't actually drunk, but had she been drunk, I would at least be able to say that what she said made sense.....for someone who was drinking on the job.

She said that even though she didn't think Tee had pink eye, she was going to treat her for pink eye. And prescribed pink eye drops. She said that her coughing was due to her asthma (and not the cold she's had all week) and that she should use her albuterol inhaler. Then she told my that my niece Doodle (she was with us) had the same exact cough, which was probably where Tee got her cough. She gave me a sample of cough syrup and told me it would be perfect for Doodle (hey, a twofer diagnosis, what a bargain!). So I should have Tee use albuterol, but Doodle only needs cough syrup. For the same cough. Nurse Ratched then finally concluded that Tee has a sinus infection, which probably started out as just her seasonal allergies, and to give her some allergy meds to take care of that. The bubble in her ear isn't fluid at all, but too much ear wax, and to put two drops of warm baby oil in each one, and she'll be fine. Sooooooooooo. We got pink eye meds for the non-pink eye, and nothing at all for the sinus infection. And free samples of cough syrup and toothpaste for Doodle....

While we were perusing the aisles, waiting for the eye drops to be ready, we came across my Valentine's Day present. Errrrr, see above.