Let's Give Thanks To Our Troops

My dad sent me this link this morning.

http://www.letssaythanks.com/Home1280.html

It literally takes about 1 minute to send a card online.

So please click it and go do one. Or two. Maybe 10.

BREAKIN' BALLS

You've inspired me honey. To write a blog post. It's been a while.

Sure, there may be some ball breakage going on in the post, but don't worry, I'll give you a chance to get back at me. Or you can take it out on me in the sack. Either is fine with me.

So my husband got an iPhone this past weekend. He's been wanting a new phone fo-evah. He hates the one he had. The guy is a total IT junkie. It's what he does for a living. His work phones have always been the best.

Then, when we decided to get him a cell phone strictly for personal use, we went with a simpler model. It looked cute to begin with. (Which is always a plus for manly men, lemme tell ya) He even got a yoda "skin" for it. It suited his needs. For a while. Then he started having trouble texting.

I guess when you go from having a keyboard on your phone to type messages to having to navigate T9, it's not real pretty. Or easy. He recently sent me this just to give you an idea of how good he was at T9.

So we decide we are going to get him an iPhone for Xmas. It's hard but he thinks he can wait til December.

Then on Friday I decide, because he is a wonderful man and I love him very much, I decide to see if I can get him an upgrade now. Turns out he's not eligible until January. But with a little finesse and a really good customer service rep (after the third time I called) I find out that I can give him my phone's upgrade eligibility now. So I do.

I text him, "Wanna get an iPhone tonight?" and he texts back, "Your the best!"

We go in to get him his new toy and he already knows all about it. Knows everything it can do and then some. Has apps all lined up in his head ready to be downloaded to his phone. Or is it uploaded? Fuck if I know, I'm not the IT person in this family.

So I start to tease him. I tell the kids we're gonna start taking bets on how many apps daddy is going to have on his phone by the end of the night. The guy can't stop playing with his phone. He's tossing fake crumpled up pieces of paper into a fake waste basket on his phone. We're falling asleep to a soothing white noise app on his phone. He's downloading ITunes to his phone. XM radio apps, police scanner apps, drunken text apps, some shit called Yelp. Crazy man, crazy.

Just so you know though...I immediately started noticing how bad my phone sucks now. How it shuts itself off mid-text and mid-phone call.

I can't wait until January when I get to steal his upgrade.....iPhone, here I come...now what apps should I get?

It's good to be back. I missed you.

Now on a serious note...

Tomorrow is the Marine Corps birthday. And the day after that is Veteran's Day. Two holidays which are proudly celebrated and respected, in this household.

We all should take a moment, a long moment, to think about and thank, all the men and women who have served our country. They are the reason we have the freedoms that we do. They are the reason why America is such a great country to live in. I think we all forget that sometimes. We take it for granted sometimes.

...and we should not.

You Can Help A Husband Give A Wonderful Gift To His Wife

Kevin of Always Home and Uncool has asked me to post this as part of his effort to raise awareness in the blogosphere of juvenile myositis, a rare autoimmune disease his daughter was diagnosed with on this day seven years ago. The day also happens to be his wife's birthday.



*

Our pediatrician admitted it early on.

The rash on our 2-year-old daughter's cheeks, joints and legs was something he'd never seen before.

The next doctor wouldn't admit to not knowing.

He rattled off the names of several skins conditions -- none of them seemingly worth his time or bedside manner -- then quickly prescribed antibiotics and showed us the door.

The third doctor admitted she didn't know much.

The biopsy of the chunk of skin she had removed from our daughter's knee showed signs of an "allergic reaction" even though we had ruled out every allergy source -- obvious and otherwise -- that we could.

The fourth doctor had barely closed the door behind her when, looking at the limp blonde cherub in my lap, she admitted she had seen this before. At least one too many times before.

She brought in a gaggle of med students. She pointed out each of the physical symptoms in our daughter:

The rash across her face and temples resembling the silhouette of a butterfly.

The purple-brown spots and smears, called heliotrope, on her eyelids.

The reddish alligator-like skin, known as Gottron papules, covering the knuckles of her hands.

The onset of crippling muscle weakness in her legs and upper body.

She then had an assistant bring in a handful of pages photocopied from an old medical textbook.
She handed them to my wife, whose birthday it happened to be that day.

This was her gift -- a diagnosis for her little girl.

That was seven years ago -- Oct. 2, 2002 -- the day our daughter was found to have juvenile dermatomyositis, one of a family of rare autoimmune diseases that can have debilitating and even fatal consequences when not treated quickly and effectively.

Our daughter's first year with the disease consisted of surgical procedures, intravenous infusions, staph infections, pulmonary treatments and worry. Her muscles were too weak for her to walk or swallow solid food for several months. When not in the hospital, she sat on our living room couch, propped up by pillows so she wouldn't tip over, as medicine or nourishment dripped from a bag into her body.

Our daughter, Thing 1, Megan, now age 9, remembers little of that today when she dances or sings or plays soccer. All that remain with her are scars, six to be exact, and the array of pills she takes twice a day to help keep the disease at bay.

What would have happened if it took us more than two months and four doctors before we lucked into someone who could piece all the symptoms together? I don't know.

I do know that the fourth doctor, the one who brought in others to see our daughter's condition so they could easily recognize it if they ever had the misfortune to be presented with it again, was a step toward making sure other parents also never have to find out.

That, too, is my purpose today.

It is also my birthday gift to my wife, My Love, Rhonda, for all you have done these past seven years to make others aware of juvenile myositis diseases and help find a cure for them once and for all.

To read more about children and families affected by juvenile myositis diseases, visit Cure JM Foundation at http://www.curejm.org/.

To make a tax-deductible donation toward JM research, go to www.firstgiving.com/rhondaandkevinmckeever or www.curejm.com/team/donations.htm.

1 Year Blogging Anniversary

One year ago today I began to blog.

I was nervous to share myself. Scared to expose my inner most feelings.

But, I did it anyway and I'm glad I did.

Haven't been blogging much lately but I miss it. I do. And I miss my blogging friends. I do. I really do.

I've decided to repost my very first ever blog post in honor of my anniversary.

Notice how I used to censor myself. That fucken shit went right out the window huh?

By the way, if you leave a comment, it would be cool if you left the link to your first blog post. I think it'd be cool to see how you all started out as well.

September 28, 2008
Newbie

Hello Everyone! So this is my very first blog ever! Been contemplating it for a while. Been reading a lot of other blogs and they are so funny and wonderful and true to life, my life anyway. You terrific ladies and some gents live all over the country yet share so much in common. If you ever lived on the same street you'd have one hell of a block party! Finally decided to take my b@!!$ out of my purse and let 'em all hang out. Well, not all yet. But gimme time. As you can see from the name I have a lot of stuff scattered around my head so I figure this may be a good way to get it out and share a little bit, and to see if anyone relates to me the way I sometimes relate to you. So let’s give it a try…here is one of the things running through my head because of what’s happening in my life…

Is it wrong to want to threaten a 4th grader? (I should mention I’m 33)

So my beautiful, sweet 7 year old daughter sat down to eat lunch at school. (For some reason the 2nd and 3rd graders all get to swarm the lunch line at the same time so by the time my daughter gets through and sits down to eat the dreaded 4TH graders are let out of class to start their lunch.) 2 fourth grade boys sit down at the same table my daughter and her very little friend are sitting at. Her very little friend gets up and moves to another table. My brave little girl stays put. One of the boys looks at her and says, “I’d move if I were you” …WHAT??!! Oh noooo he di’int! Threaten MYYYY little girl?

So what would you do if that happened to your little girl? Here’s what I want to do. I want to send my badass biker hubby to school all decked out in biker gear, tattoos all hangin’ out to just sit and have lunch with his little girl. Maybe float a few stink eyes, crack his knuckles a little bit in their general direction. Mess with my baby…I DON”T think soooo…

Thanks for reading :)

Moxie Mona Gets Around....the blogoshpere

Welcome Moxie Mona followers, welcome to Temecula, California. (Wait, real quick here...can we change her name to Moxie "The Moaner"? Just a suggestion.)

Home to wine country ...

...hot air balloons...

and all those wild fires you saw on the news a couple years back...

Now, of course it never fails, that whenever you live in a town with cool stuff to do, you never end up doing them. I live about 2 miles away from all those wonderful wineries and have only ever been to one. For Mother's Day brunch. Totally does NOT count. Someday I'd love to take a wine country tour, (with Tiffany, and then we can make friends with everyone on the bus and end up in Old Town at Rosa's) but for now, it is not in my cards.

I did however take Mona to the wilds of my side yard. Where we've been growing our very own wine grapes for the past couple of years. Not to bad if I do say so myself.

The same goes for hot air balloons. Never done it. I do however see them flying over my backyard many an early morning during the season. Them hot air balloons sure do know how to piss off the neighborhood dogs.

What else is Temecula famous for? Why Casinos of course! Here's Mona trying her turn at Lady Luck on a video poker machine...

(No, I didn't really take her to a casino. That's a crappy ass cobweb covered old poker machine that's been sitting in my garage for a couple of years.)

And what would a vacation be without a scandalous hook up? If Stella can get her groove back then Moxie Mona sure as hell can get her moves back...hence the name "Moxie the Moaner"....

...enter Baumy.

So aptly named by my then 4 year old son. What does it mean? Beats the shit outta me.

Sure Mona is way more butch then Baumy and will probably crush him in the heat of passion but you know what they say, it's not the size of the ocean it's the motion of the ocean.

AND......

....Baumy is a biker. You KNOW you can't go wrong with a biker. So here's Mona with her ginormous gams wrapped around Biker Baumy, out for a ride in this wonderful town of ours.

(Okay, so technically it's my garage, but I happen to think that my garage is a wonderful part of this town.)

Look at her. So content with the wind blowing in her big chunk of pillow hair. Watch out Mona! Don't lose that kick ass yellow headband with the red star on it! It can get pretty windy round these parts.

What? You have your red bandana on to protect that kick ass yellow headband with a red star on it? Whew. Good thinking.

Of course, once Mona got her first taste of a Temecula biker, she couldn't stop there. Oh no. She turned all hoochie mama and started makin the rounds.

She tried to get her claws into this guy...

She even tried to drive...

Dude, Mona, you're supposed to try and get in their pants, not their shirts...

Ummmm, is she trying to blow him? And why is he smiling???



Oh hell naw! You better step the fuck back bitch! That's my man.

So, after Mona got her ass beat, she decided it would be a good idea to move on. And move on she did. Several times in fact.

She moved on to biker Spiderman....



....then she knocked boots with biker Woody...



...then she bumped uglies with Lego Luke Skywalker...



....she played hide the salami with this wild hog...



and then....wait.....is that?......is she dry humping the blue guy from the doodle bops???....



Okay, Mona, you've officially sunken to a new low.

.....spread eagle much?

This smut was brought to you by...

Hosted by:
Better in Bulk
Mama’s Losin’ It
Mayhem & Moxie
Scary Mommy
& 7 Clown Circus

Feel free to send all complaints of this posts' disgusting crassness to them :)

Moxie? Or Just Plain Stewpit?

2) Moxie is defined as the ability to face difficulty with spirit and courage; bold energy. Describe a time when you showed moxie.


Okay Mama, I will.


Once upon a time, there was a young, naive girl named........Princess Buttahcup. (THAT"S ME!)


One day Princess Buttahcup decided to head on down to her local AM/PM for a lottery ticket. Every Princess can dream, can't they?


When Princess Buttahcup came out of the lovely, yet convenient, AM/PM, she noticed there was a strange man sitting in the front seat of her carriage. Yet, she had driven alone to the AM/PM.


Who was this stranger sitting in her carriage? And why the fuck was he rifling through her shit?!


Thinking back on the situation, the young and stupid Princess Buttahcup should have gone back into the AM/PM to call for help. But she didn't do that. Nope. She walked right up to her car and said, "HEY! What're you doing in my car?!"


Did I do that? Did I just say that? Yep. I did.


The strange man looked at her and said, "Oh, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." (He must've been fuckin high.)


He got out of the car and walked up to dumbass Buttahcup. He kept apoligizing to her and wouldn't stop following her. She finally came to her fuckin sense, locked her car, and went inside to call the police for help. (Back in the day, the Princess had no cellie.)


She went in and told the convenience store clerk that there was a strange man in her car and to please call the police. He just looked at her like she had mushrooms growing out of her head. So did all the people in the store. No one helped. The strange man kept following her and apoligizing.


When she realized no one would help, she got back in her car and got the fuck outta dodge.


That's when the reality of what just happened hit her. When she realized how dangerous it was of her to confront that son of a bitch. So with her hands shaking like crazy, she drove home and called the police.


There was a police officer near by and it turns out the fuckin idiot strange man was going into all the cars at the back of the convenience store that weren't locked, and stealing stuff from their car while the people were inside. And they caught him.


The moral of the story is that a) you should always, always lock your car doors when you run in to buy lottery tickets and b) don't ever expect help from people in convenience stores. Prince Charming is extinct.


THE END

Please join me tomorrow when Moxie Mona herself comes to visit me :)

Tuesday Tribute: How I almost met "THE DONALD"

Today is Tuesday Tribute over at Moxie and Mayhem.



All this week the chickies over at Moxie and Mayhem are hosting "Around the Blogoshpere in 5 days" with Moxie Mona. Who is Moxie Mona? She's a freaky ass wonder woman doll, I mean, she's the sexy, sultry mascot of the new and terrifawesome (is to a word. it means terrific and awesome) Moxie Media. Who are also sexy and sultry. Pretty sure I'd do em if the opportunity ever presented itself.

Along with linking to all the websites who were kind enough to take Mona around their town, (I'm doing one on Friday), they are hosting a different linky subject each and every day this week.

Go check em out. You can tell them I sent you and they STILL won't kick you out.

The subject I chose to write about today was option numero uno, the most outrageous person you ever met while traveling.......

Not sure he was necessarily outrageous, but I did come THIS close to "The Donald" once.

Which Donald? THE Donald. The one with the hair and the fricken billions!

Yeah, that one.

Dave and I were in Las Vegas before we got married to check out some venues. My dad had a friend over at the Mirage who hooked us up with a tour of the facilities and when we were done we were walking from the convention area to the hotel area.

Not many people around. It must've been late or something.

Anyway, all of a sudden Dave goes, "Dude! That's Donald Trump!"

I turn around and sure enough it's "The Donald". He had two big ass body guards and some hottie he was talking to. Thinking back it must've been Melania, before they were married. Or it could've been some other leggy brunette, but I'm pretty sure it was her.

Dave's all, "Let's follow him!"

And I was all, "Na-uh! He's got two huge bodyguards! I ain't gonna stalk him around the Mirage!"

So we left. I'm such a pussy. I could've had "The Donald's" autograph....or a big ass bodyguards' shoe up my ass.