Siri have you taken notes from my children?

This is why I never use Siri.  She acts exactly like my children.  Sound familiar?

I push the button on my phone.

She beeps.

I start talking.  She cuts me off before I am finished.

Answers with something I didn't want to hear.

I press the button and ask again.

She just disappears.  No answer, nothing.

I press the button again, frustrated.

She tells me she doesn't understand.

I try rewording the question, dumbing it down.

She comes back with something totally unrelated to the question.

I attempt several more times, hoping that I can get her to do what I want.

Finally, I give up and go find the answer myself.

WTF - Vibra-Finger

One of my fine readers sent me this fine vintage advertisement, I thought I would share with you.  Here's a few interesting things:

Yes, I am sure the total caught your eye too.  Hmmm, a Vibra-Finger?  

I won't tell you where my imagination went (straight into the gutter.)

I see merit in this, yes everyone needs daily stimulation.

It stimulates tissue.

Increases and improves your circulation (and quite possibly, your mood.)

Oh yes, it is sanitary.  I fits in your HAND.

Then I wonder.

In which direction does the finger move?

Do you have to plug it in, or does it take 4 double A batteries.

If it takes batteries how long do they last, especially with daily use?

If it has the disclaimer that it is for personal use, why do they suggest you share one with a friend?

I can hear my phone call utilizing the "money back guarantee."

"I thought this was a massager.  And I tried my daily massage, but even with the high setting and the finger smoking, I did not feel refreshed and rejuvenated like the ad says."

I guess, I'll have to purchase the Vibra-Finger.

Heck, I'll purchase two and receive the dollar discount.

A girl can never have enough Vibra-Fingers.

Have you ordered yours?

WTF - My Dream Job

No, I am not looking for a job, but sometimes when things show up in your path like this one, you can't help but share.

So how is this all kinds of wrong?  Where do I begin.

Adult Party Specialist/Customer Service - OK, what type of customer service are we talking about?  And a party specialist, there are some that say I am very good at partying, does that make me a specialist?

"Looking for people just like you to join our network of Independent Romance Advisors."  What does that mean?  I am not the most romantic person, why me?  And how can you be independent and romantic at the same time?  Doesn't it take two to tango?

"Our program is designed for you.  Spend time you need taking care of your family."  Well that doesn't sound very romantic now does it.  Or my skill at being romantic mentioned in the beginning got me into this family thing in the first place.

"Earn full time pay while you manage your own business and work part-time hours."  OK, this sounds too good to be true until I am a Romantic Advisor on the streets, then I totally understand the part time hours.

"If you are willing to make money and party for a living then its time to become an Independent Romance Advisor."  Make money and party for a living?  Why YES, I'd love to!  I guess I need to read the fine print like "this job is not for those with heart problems, short legs or hairy chests.  Must be willing to work fast and efficiently.  Does not include hotel costs or glitter underwear."

I'm applying, better get in line behind me."

Just Sayin

Sometimes there are moments when I realize that even if this little babe is from MD, there are a few things that I just don't understand.

Like the phrase, "Just Sayin."  The Urban Dictionary defines it as not claiming what you "just said."

In my mind, this phrase is just a  cop out for saying what is on your mind and actually getting away with it.

"Honey, they tried pushing you back in the ocean because you were wearing that gray bathing suit.  Wear flowery bathing suits like me and it will never happen.  Just saying."

See here, you're telling your best friend that, I'm sorry, but you look like a beached whale.  To temper it, the "just saying" is your way of backing back out of the situation.

More Examples:

"Well son, had you picked up the dirty clothes off of your floor, the dog would not consider your room her bathroom because of the smell, just saying."

"Yes, I was all ready to make you that gourmet meal, but after pouring the glass of wine for the chef, it's chicken nuggets and carrot sticks.  Just sayin."

"No sweetie, those leopard skinned spanx pants are not doing what they are supposed to be doing.  Don't come out of the dressing room, just hand them to me.  Just sayin."

"I'm not sure if pulling your breast out in the middle of the National Anthem at a baseball stadium full of drunk dudes is such a good idea, just saying."

So do you think "Just saying," means,

What the flip were you thinking?

Listen to me, you'll thank me later.

Oh. My. God.

No.  Just no....

Or do we use it to say what is really on our mind and temper it with a little bit of honey, just enough that your friend/family member/significant other doesn't go with their inner sense and just slap some sense into you.

Finally, are you just saying what you just said, or just saying what you need to say?

Just saying.

WTF - Happy Birthday Facebook!

Happy 10th Birthday  Crackbook!  Here's a weekly WTF on our Favorite Social Media People.

Political Polly - you know what, I don't care.  We will never agree.  You will never sway me.  Post puppy pictures.

Debbie Downers - Sure life is hard.  Isn't that the way it is supposed to be?  Post cute kitten pictures.

ALLEN CAPS LOCK - seriously, stop yelling at us.  YES, YOU ARE YELLING!

Farmville Frannie - have you seen my backyard?  I'll look at pictures of puppies on a farm anyway.

Suzie Selfie - once a day?  I am lucky enough to remember sugar in my coffee once a day.

Tommy TMI - I am sorry you children have lice.  I do not need to see a picture of it.  Ever.  They are not puppies.

Maxine MySpace - you are so 32 seconds ago - come into the 20th century!  There's puppies here.

Harold Hijacker - listen when the status updates is about puppies, now is not the time to talk about the unemployment rate.  Unless it is unemployed puppies.

Sharable Sharon - I get so inspired by all the quotes you share every morning, said no. one. ever.

THAT family - I never knew Heaven created a family like yours.  We're busy looking at puppies.

So you have those annoying people on Facebook that beg you to HIDe them?  You know what, I did and you should see all the cute pictures of puppies in my news feed.

Who would you add?

Who Needs A Superhero When You Have MOM!

My kids are moving past their wearing the capes to church stage, but every once in a while they ask me what superhero I'd like to be.

I usually say Wonder Woman but

Then a thought came to me:

I am MOM, I am already superhero.

I have xray vision - I can detect a child wearing the same pair of underwear for 7 straight days with just a look.

My vision can find the lost remote stuck between the cushions of the couch, or better yet, when someone puts it in their pocket and it is found BEFORE it hits the laundry machine.

Superbreath - I can take out a group of boys with just garlic bread and pickles - don't tempt me.

Firebreath - I can breathe fire - especially when kids are not ready for school....and yes, it sometimes is real fire.

Wonder Woman had the lasso of Truth - why have a lasso when I have the look of truth.  All I need to do is look at my children a specific way and they immediately spit out the truth, "OK, I know it was wrong.  I was looking at the flaming red stick of wood and wondered what it would feel like, so I put it on my brother's back."

I have Superstrength - yes, you would be amazed at what I can do to get a moldy towel off of a kids bedroom floor.

Able to leap small objects in a single bound, especially if I am stepping on a lego.  I can jump skateboards, and piles of clothes, including a clingy dog to get to the overflowing pot on the stove.

I have an enhanced sense of smell - I can smell a moldy lunch box in the back of my car before it becomes Hazmat.  I can sense whether or not a pair of socks are on their second, or fourth, or sixth rotation.  I can smell test anything coming out of the fridge, especially those that are a day or week past their expiration date (honey, it smells fine!)

I have the Mom Mobile - I can get a kid to school on time even if it means skidding into the carpool line on one wheel with happy Meal toys falling out of the door as he opens it.  Better yet, I have an invisible jet - no one sees me pull in front of the school, push a kid out and keep going - I am that fast.

I have invisibility - I am that nagging voice in my child's head when he thinks about possibly doing something wrong - and oh yes, I nag.

I have Superspeed - you'd be surprised how fast I can run down the neighborhood when someone lets the dog out.

I have a uniform - it has coffee spilled on the front of it, someone's boogers down the leg of the pants, a line of mud from putting bikes into the car, AND something unrecognizable from an exploding lunch box in the back seat of the car.

I have a sidekick - yeah, it's Daddy, and he makes all the jokes of our comic strip.

WTF - What The Friday - Mr. Milker?

Working for a magazine means a lot of email, with many offering me FREE samples to try their AMAZING product.  Imagine my surprise when an email offering Mr. Milker hit my inbox, along with an offer of a free sample.

Mr. Milker - the amazing invention that allows Dads to breast feed their babies the same way Moms do.

OK, this caught my attention.

Breast Envy is a quiet condition that men endure with lasting psychological effects.  Did you know that fathers are quietly enduring not being able to breast feed their children like the mothers."

Well nobody clued me in on this one.  Did my husband really want the experience of breast feeding?  I still remember it vividly, I can tell him all about it.

"Your boobs all of a sudden feel like they are going to explode.  Mine looked like two over inflated footballs.  The poor little baby, who's head is smaller than the huge boob coming their way is hungry, and trying to feed is like trying to find a tic tac on a football.  My husband followed me with the screaming baby reading passages of the 'Breastfeeding Freedom' book someone gave me.  When we went back to the nipple nazi at the hospital the next day she said, 'it's easy' grabbed my football in her hand grabbed the baby's head and pushed the two together.  You then get to go through the chaffing of your nipples due to over use (and not in a good way) where every time the baby cries you bite the strap of leather and breastfeed.  Oh yeah, we bonded, I think, somewhere during this."

When I researching the Mr. Milker I came across websites that give instruction for men with "man boobs" to breast feed their children if they want to.  I'm just leaving that one there.  Ok, maybe not, if I ever go into Walmart and see a man with "man boobs" breast feeding a child, I'm thinking the zombie apocalypse is not far behind.


There are some advantages to the Mr. Milker, Daddy breast feeder can take the 430am shift, and you can possibly even take a vacation.

So if you want the breast feeding experience with the Mr. Milker, here's a few alternative ideas to use it beyond the infant years.

"I put soda in mine and the KIDS loved it.  Would love to get a three feeder version, would cut down on the kids fighting."  OK, how old are these kids and who's breast feeding soda from Dad?

"We don't have any children, but my husband got one and tried it with our Chihuahua pup who lost her mother.  She gained 6 ounces in a week!"  So was he laying down on the dog bed wearing it?

So there really isn't an experience with your children denied to you Daddy, get the Mr. Milker and experience the beauty of breastfeeding your babies, just don't forget to clean the diapers afterwards.

What would you use the Mr. Milker for?

http://greatinventions.tv/home/product/mr-milker-male-breastfeeding/

A Day In The Life Of A Facebook Addict

You are that Facebook person, I know you are:

You see a post and you like it.

So you say, "I will like you."

Then you see another post, but you don't like it.  It is sad, you shouldn't like something that is sad?

But you have to like it, because you want your friend (who you really don't know) to know that you see they are sad----by liking it.

You see another post, it makes you angry.  You do not delete the person off of your feed, you send an angry message back to that person (who you really don't know either) and get into a fight that ends with deleting them, which you should have done in the first place.

You see another post, you decide that it is not nice enough to like, close, but not close enough.

Finally, there is that cute picture of kittens - not only must you "like" this but you must share this because everyone shares kittens.

Then there's the picture that says, "Hangover, The Gods way of saying you kicked ass last night."  You love this but there's a problem:
If you like it, then they know you were drinking last night.
If you share it, then people will know that you drink.
What will all these people, who you really don't know anyway think about you drinking on a Tuesday night.
You take that one and save it for another day - maybe you can share it on a Sunday, but wait then what will all the people you don't know, who go to church, think?

You see a post from a friend about her Labrador puppy, you think, "OK, enough of the real puppy pictures, we like the funny ones that someone else made."

Then you stop by another friend's post and look at the picture, "OK, that's not real.  I will not like it."

Finally you see a few pictures of several friends you actually know together, "Well, why wasn't I invited to that party?  I mean we are Facebook friends."  You decide to LIKE it to show them that you KNOW and you are not happy about it.

All of this happens in the 5 minutes it took you to pull up Facebook and take a look.

You close out of it to actually get some work done.

But go back 5 minutes later.

Is this you?  Do you have continual conversations on what you LIKE and what you do not LIKE?

My 50 Shades of Points

You know you and I HATE all the sex jokes, I mean cum on people!  Here's a honest list on how to please your better half.

10.  I actually pick up dog shit.  Yes, I know he was the one saying we really didn't need a dog, but rather than arguing, I pick up the dog shit.

9.  We have come to an agreement, I don't smell any article of clothing of the family to see if it is dirty.  period.

8.  I can watch a football game and give a better commentary then most ESPN anchors.

7.  I have no problem eating wings, or potato skins, or a big steak.  You'll never find me saying, "oh, I'm sorry - but I'm not sure that bowl of chili was made with grassfed, organic, sunshine loving ground beef.  Heck, I even enjoyed a Skeeter-dog at Skeeter's Hot dogs."

6.  I can take it in the butt, I mean, loving all those high butter, full of salt sauces he loves to cook and suffer for the next few days because it is worth it.

5.  I do not nag.  I get even, once they understand that  - enough is said.

4.  I am pleasant.  No, I am not talking about to look at (though, well, never mind) I actually smile when he walks through the door.  Not the 1950's dressed with my makeup repaired and pearls on smile, a "well lookee here, another adult is in the house.  Time for some real conversation."

3.  I do not expect him to act like the dudes in my romance novels.  Oh, did I just let out that I read romance novels?  Ooops.

2.  I do not make him go to the circus, or the Fair, or Disney World.  Sometimes it's much easier to do this myself than listen to 6 hours of, "how much are we spending?  should they be eating that?  do I have to ride on It's A Small World AGAIN?"

1.  If it is my idea, I run with it.  Pulling another person down, "well it seemed like a good idea at the time" is not a pleasant experience.

Why Don't you LIKE me?

Sometimes it is easy to get caught up in stats.

How many people liked what I wrote.  Did anyone share it?

Why don't they like this, it's pretty hilarious to me.

I can get many positive comments, why am I holding onto the negative ones?

Then I read a quote this morning that makes a lot of sense, "Write like an orphan."

Write what I need to say, and don't agonize over the notifications.

Don't get bogged down by stats that look like you are falling off a cliff on the number of hits.

Create what I need to create, say what I need to say.

Don't read the reviews, don't analyze the comments.

Put it out there.

Move On.

There's better things to do.

The BIG Coverup - the training bra

Remember the first time you had to cover up?

Pre-teen, looking at my flat chest, I remember wishing I had something to cover up.  When they start to grow, my mother looked at my mosquito bites, worried I had cancer and took me to the doctor.  (I did tell you I was a devout Catholic growing up)  The doctor smiled at us and explained, "She's growing breasts."  Before I could understand the humiliation, she took me home and announced to the family, "It's time to go and buy some bras."

I felt like I was walking to my execution, the department store with my MOM, and into the lingerie department.

She starts embarrassing me the moment we hit the top of the escalator,
"Honey, where do you think the young girl, I mean lady bras are?"
"Mom!"  I watch a cute boy go by wishing he hadn't heard that exchange.

To make it better, she adds to the embarrassment:

"Excuse me?"
Cashier, "Yes."

"My daughter is buying her first bra.  Can you recommend something for her body type."
Cashier looks at my skin and bones, "Umm, you may want to hit the training bras in that corner, size extra small."
Extra small?  Training bras? Really?
I stand there feeling humiliated until my Mom returns with a handful of bras, "Honey, I found the extra smalls."  I watch other girls walk by with their Moms, they laugh overhearing then give me the look of, "just endure it and you'll get the bras."

"Look at these cute little puppies, and I really like the American Flag ones," she says holding them up high as other people walk by.  I grab then and turn toward the dressing room, wishing this experience over, silently thinking, I kind of like the american flag one too - makes me feel patriotic.

My mother is following me to the dressing room.
"What are you doing?"  I ask.
"I need to make sure they fit you, you'll need my expertise," she answers.
"Mom, they are bras.  I think I know what I am doing."  I ask, praying I can do this by myself.
She walks into the fitting room with me, and sits on the bench waiting for me to try them on.  Guess this will prepare me for when I end up in prison, my life in the gutter from this one bra experience.

"Honey, does it fit?"
"Mom!"
"Lemme see...."  She runs her finger along the side, snaps it.
"Mom!"
"I think it's perfect."

We go to the cashier, and I endure my mother tearing up as she explains to the cashier and the lady waiting in line behind us that her little girl is growing up, and wearing TRAINING bras.  Then she looks at both of them and winks.

The boys in the class run their fingers down my back to see if I are wearing a training bra, and even if it's simply mosquito bites, I've got the bra on.  I'll never thank her, but secretly glad we took that time to help me become a "woman."

Remember your first training bra?  Did you buy it or did your mom?