Out OF THE MOUTHS OF BABIES.

Butt Dust & Fleas
These have to be original and genuine - no adult is this creative!

MELANIE (age 5) asked her Granny how old she was. Granny replied she was so old she didn't remember any more. Melanie said, "If you don't remember you have to look in the back of your panties. Mine say five to six."

STEVEN (age 3) hugged and kissed his Mom goodnight. "I love you so much, that when you die I'm going to bury you outside my bedroom window."

BRITTANY (age 4) had an earache and wanted a painkiller. She tried in vain to take the lid off the bottle. Seeing her frustration, her Mom explained it was a childproof cap and she'd have to open it for her.
Eyes wide with wonder, the little girl asked: "How does it know it's me?"

SUSAN (age 4) was drinking juice when she got the hiccups. "Please don't give me this juice again," she said, "It makes my teeth cough."

Drew (age 4) stepped onto the bathroom scale and asked: "How much do I cost?"

MARC (age 4) was engrossed in a young couple that were hugging and kissing in a restaurant. Without taking his eyes off them, he asked his
dad: "Why is he whispering in her mouth?"

CLINTON (age 5) was in his bedroom looking worried. When his Mom asked what was troubling him, he replied, "I don't know what'll happen with this bed when I get married. How will my wife fit in?"

JAMES (age 4) was listening to a Bible story. His dad read: "The man named Lot was warned to take his wife and flee out of the city but his wife looked back and was turned to salt." Concerned, James asked: "What happened to the flea?"

TAMMY (age 4) was with her mother when they met an elderly, rather wrinkled woman her Mom knew. Tammy looked at her for awhile and then asked, "Why doesn't your skin fit your face?"

The Sermon I think this Mom will never forget.... this particular Sunday sermon..."Dear Lord," the minister began, with arms extended toward heaven and a rapturous look on his upturned face. "Without you, we are but dust." He would have continued but at that moment my very obedient daughter (who was listening!) leaned over to me and asked quite audibly in her shrill little girl voice, "Mommy, what is butt dust?"

My godchildren...

Julian

Rowan

Aren't they just too precious?!

A cigarette shortens your life by 2 min ....

A beer shortens your life by 4 min ...

A working day shortens your life by 8 hours!!!!

I REST MY CASE!!!!

HE'S MOVED OUT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

On Friday night things got so bad at home I took the kids and left. Luckily (in this case in any case) Mom stays about 5 mins from me. I know this not because I've timed it, but because I cannot finish a smoke between her house and mine. I've tried, even when I double clutch, it is an impossible feat.

We slept at Mom's on Friday and went back home on Saturday morning, I thought he might have sobered up by that time and aquired some much needed manners, but I was wrong. He still carried on behaving like a dickhead. (This might be due to the fact that he is one?) I made SURE that he took everything that he owned from the house.

I was shit scared, I've never quite seen him as crazy as he was the weekend. He was exceptionally unpleasant. He called me names that I'm too ashamed to post. Considering that I am who I am, this is quite an accomplishment.

Since he doesn't have access to the web, I can tell you what the final nail in the coffin was: for some reason he was convinced that I am pregnant. This is medically impossible (or as I've been advised lately: highly unlikely). So, considering that we already lost a child, what he said was, to me, deadly. "If you are pregnant and I believe you are, loose the fucking thing." Ouch!

I am not, in case you were wondering, but still, who the fuck does he think he is telling me what to do in the first place and sliding in at close second what makes him think he is God and he can decide if anything that lives in MY body (even if it were a bad cold) gets to live or die.

Friday night sucked, needless to say and Saturday morning wasn't any better, but the rest of the weekend was BLISS. Just to rebell against the norm the kids and I had breakfast serial for supper last nite. Just because we could.

It finally happened....the cute guy that I've been perving over at work joined us for lunch today. We shook hands (mayor tingles..see paragraphs below) and he actually SPOKE.

Johan, we'll call him Johan, cause, well, it's his name, is an absolute babe!

See, I'm not your typical "oh I love u let's get married" babe, which for some reason leads to all my relationships getting way too serious, because all guys think that they will be the one that can change my mind. Guys, get this: not all girlies want to marry. Some of us just want someone to call up once a month and say fancy a movie and a fuck? Maybe between the two we can work in supper, cause you're gonna need the energy.

The problem with this is that all the guys that I've been with want to 'talk' after sex. I don't, I mean really what is there to say? I had an orgasm - it was great, can I sleep now? And what the hell is with the cuddle thing??? Spend more time on foreplay and forget the after cuddle!

I degress. Johan is not your typical business man. Sure, he wears a suit and those yucky shoes that go with suits (you know, the leather ones that look like school shoes). The secret to my infatuation comes from casual Friday. He wore jeans, a black T and doc martins. To make matters worse, I could see tattoos peeking out under BOTH sleeves. Man, did I ever want to rip that T-shirt off and.... uhm, yes - I'm sure you know what I mean.

Good lord, I feel like a little school girl! Thing is, I just want it to be a brief encounter, we're both working late and happen to bump (grin) into each other in the elevator and then maybe in the closet and on my boss's desk. I don't really want to get to know the guy - I just want to shag him!!

I've spent my entire grown -up life, since my 1st divorce, trying to avoid 'serious' relationships. My next supposed fling was with a waiter - someone who made a living out of flirting. We ended up trying to 'save each other'. I got him into a stable job and he convinced me that there is such a thing as 'love'. Right. That lasted right up to the point where he cheated, beat me up and to this day, has the power to scare the b-jesus outta me. We've been divorced since 2004, yet he is still part of my life. He is currently residing (for lack of a better word) with me. Not a day goes by that I don't wish him away. I want vanishing powder - any shamans or voodoo guru's out there that can help?

He was supposed to move out end of May - he's still there. He's supposed to move out this weekend - I don't know if he will. I've threatened with the police this time and maybe, just maybe, I will really call on them to assist with the evacuation. Thing is, he literally nags me into submission. No is not an option - he will nag (and by nag I mean he calls me up to 55 times a day!!! yes, we did count) until I am so worn out that I just give in to whatever. Be it another week of him staying there or tagging along to a lame-ass movie that I REALLY don't want to see or changing my dinner plans (normally a toasted cheese sandwich) into something that he likes just to get him TO SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!!!!!!

But I degress again. Johan. Mmmmm, what a delectable uhm, gentleman? I don't think I have ever met a guy that is so shy. He literally cringes when he has to speak. He's obviously brilliant at what he does, all his superiors sing his praises and if I tell you he's a computer guru, you're picturing Bill Gates right?

Wrong. This guy has got an ass you can hop a coin on. Built like Vin Diesel (which is a big plus considering my vibrator is endearingly called Vinnie) just taller, head shaved, which is another big turn-on, I mean this guy HAS GOT IT ALL. I never realised I was such a pervert! Sure there is the Vin Diesel thing, but what are the chances? I don't even know if Mr Diesel knows that there is a country called South Africa, let alone that there would be a serious need for body guards if he ever decided to visit... but Johan ... I touched his hand and I could imagine that very hand on all sorts of other places and found myself wondering if he tastes as good as he looks?

How perverted am I? I'd love to get a rating from you guys....

I always loved bunnies, now I know why. Another great mystery solved. Meet suicide bunny!

You named it WHAT??

One Woman's Tale of Woe

All hair removal methods have tricked women with their promises of easy, painless removal - the epilady, scissors, razors, "Nair" and now...the wax.

My night began as any other normal weeknight. Come home, fix dinner, play with the kids. I then had the thought that would ring painfully in my mind for the next few hours: "Maybe I should pull the waxing kit out of the medicine cabinet." So I headed to the site of my demise: the bathroom. It was one of those "cold wax" kits. No melting a clump of hot wax, you just rub the strips together in your hand, they get warm and you peel them apart and press them to your leg (or wherever else) and you pull the hair right off. No muss, no fuss. How hard can it be? I mean, I'm not a genius, but I am mechanically inclined enough to figure this out. (YA THINK!?!)

So I pull one of the thin strips out. Its two strips facing each other stuck together. Instead of rubbing them together, my genius kicks in so I get out the hair dryer and heat it to 1000 degrees. ("Cold wax," yeah...right!)

I lay the strip across my thigh. Hold the skin around it tight and pull. It works! OK, so it wasn't the best feeling, but it wasn't too bad. I can do this! Hair removal no longer eludes me! I am She-rah, fighter of all wayward body hair and maker of smooth skin extraordinaire. With my next wax strip I move north. After checking on the kids, I sneak back into the bathroom, for the ultimate hair fighting championship.

I drop my panties and place one foot on the toilet. Using the same procedure, I apply the was strip across the right side of my bikini line, covering the right half of my who-ha and stretching down to the inside of my butt cheek (Yes, it was a long strip) I inhale deeply and brace myself....RRRRIIIPPP!!!! I'm blind!!! Blinded from pain!!!! Vision returning, I notice that I've only managed to pull off half the Strip. CRAP!!! Another deep breath and RRIIPP!!

Everything is swirly and spotted. I think I may pass out...must stay conscious...Do I hear crashing drums??? Breathe, breathe...OK, back to normal. I want to see my trophy - a wax covered strip, the one that has caused me so much pain, with my hairy pelt sticking to it. I want to revel in the glory that is my triumph over body hair. I hold up the strip!

There's no hair on it. Where is the hair??? WHERE IS THE WAX???

Slowly I ease my head down, foot still perched on the toilet. I see the hair. The hair that should be on the strip I touch. I am touching wax. CRAP! I run my fingers over the most sensitive part of my body, which is now covered in cold wax and matted hair. Then I make the next BIG mistake...remember my foot is still propped up on the toilet? I know I need to do something. So I put my foot down. DAMN!!!!!!!! I hear the slamming of a cell door.

Who-ha? Sealed shut!

Butt?? Sealed shut!

I penguin walk around the bathroom trying to figure out what to do and think to myself "Please don't let me get the urge to poop. My head may pop off!" What can I do to melt the wax? Hot water!! Hot water melts wax!! I'll run the hottest water I can stand into the bathtub, get in, immerse the wax-covered bits and the wax should melt and I can gently wipe it off, right???

*WRONG!!!!!!!*

I get in the tub - the water is slightly hotter than that used to torture prisoners of war or sterilize surgical equipment - I sit Now, the only thing worse than having your nether regions glued together, is having them glued together and then glued to the bottom of the tub...in scalding hot water. Which, by the way, doesn't melt cold wax. So, now I'm stuck to the bottom of the tub as though I had cement-epoxied myself to the porcelain!! God bless the man who had convinced me a few months ago to have a phone put in the bathroom!!!!!

I call my friend, thinking surely she has waxed before and has some secret of how to get me undone It's a very good conversation starter: "So, my butt and who-ha are glued together to the bottom of the tub!" There is a slight pause.

She doesn't know any secret tricks for removal but she does try to hide her laughter from me. She wants to know exactly where the wax is located, "Are we talking cheeks or hole or who-ha?" She's laughing out loud by now...I can hear her. I give her the rundown and she suggests I call the number on the side of the box. YEAH!!!!! Right!! I should be the joke of someone else's night.
While we go through various solutions. I resort to scraping the wax off with a razor. Nothing feels better then to have your girlie goodies covered in hot wax, glued shut, stuck to the tub in super hot water and then dry-shaving the sticky wax off!!

By now the brain is not working, dignity has taken a major hike and I'm pretty sure I'm going to need Post-Traumatic Stress counseling for this event. My friend is still talking with me when I finally see my saving grace...the lotion they give you to remove the excess wax.

What do I really have to lose at this point? I rub some on and “OH MY GOODNESS!!!” The scream probably woke the kids and scared the dickens out of my friend. It's sooo painful, l but I really don't care. "IT WORKS!! It works!!" I get a hearty congratulation from my friend and she hangs up. I successfully remove the remainder of the wax and then notice to my grief and despair....THE HAIR IS STILL THERE.......ALL OF IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!. So I recklessly shave it off. Heck, I'm numb by now. Nothing hurts. I could have amputated my own leg at this point.

Next week I'm going to try hair color......

So are these

These are just to good NOT to publish!

Finally! The truth about BMW drivers....this add also applies to anyone driving a Mercedes, Volvo, Audi or SUV (SUV only if your not a farmer that actually NEEDS one!).

Fantasic advertising. I would take my neighbourhood Pedophile to this clinic...

Where does Happy The Clam come from? A movie I once saw. It is more of a conversation than a movie, but I loved it.

Made Mom watch it and she didn't get it. I guess that if you are cynical and bitter you don't appreciate the truths in most of the comments made in the movie.

Which movie you ask? One if Jim Carrey's first. Let it be known that I am not in any way a fan of the man, but in this instance he played Death aka The Grim Reaper. Movie's called 'High Strung', star of the movie: Steve Oedekerk. Picture this: Grimmie comes to pick you up in a strech limo. You don't believe that he is TGR, in order to prove that he is he removes his ear and puts it on his forehead. Most original proof of identity I've ever seen.

There are so many memorable quotes from this movie, view some here:
http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0102032/quotes