This is a 2-parter this week.

I just couldn’t pass up the chance to put up pics my man’s butt. My Harem on Plurk wants to see, so here you go.

You’re welcome.

Anna: What are we doin tomorrow Mama?

Patrick: fartThhshhthhshhshststttttfart

Anna: What?

I guess reading Walter the Farting Dog over and over is helping her comprehension and hearing.

Living my life on the interwebs has taught me new things about living in Canada. I don’t currently live in Canada, but if McCain wins in November, we’re packing up and moving. I promise(ish).

note: please don’t judge me on my lack of Canadian knowledge prior to living on the web. i’ve lived in florida my whole life. all we know about canada is that it’s our 51st state and it’s covered in snow 11 months out of the year. and hockey rules. and all Canadian men have mullets.

•Canada has free healthcare. I learned that a few years ago, but what I originally learned was incorrect. What I learned years ago was it may be free, but unless your eyeball has fallen out of its socket, you’re gonna wait 18 months to see a doc.  I recently learned that is not entirely true. You’re only gonna wait 4 months. Which, if you compare that to the waiting time I experience at my kids’ pediatrician’s office, it’s about equal.

•Canada does not have Target. ERM - exsqueeze me? NO TARGET? For serious, this was almost a deal breaker. I may have to compromise by living near the border and drive over to visit my dear store.

•Canada has places where it doesn’t snow. Seeing as I’ve lived in Florida my entire life, I’ve never experienced living in, or being in, snow. I know I’m missing out on sledding, ice skating, snow angels, and white Christmases, but I’m NOT missing out on slipping on ice, snow drifts, frostbitten nipples, and (so-I’ve-heard) warming my car up for 20 min before getting in. I’m actually kind of afraid of snow because it’s so foreign to me. But then I discovered VANCOUVER. Oh, Vancouver. Only 5 (maybe 20) days of snow a year and actual SUMMERS? I may have found my new home.

•Canada has kickass bloggers. Huckdoll, Mr. Lady, and ZoeyJane are a very few, but some of the very best. Bonus - they’re in the Vancouver area, so we have built-in friends when we move!

•Canada has decriminalized prostitution. Thanks to Mr. Lady for passing along this nugget of infomation. Mama will have a job when we move.

If you can pass along any more nuggets of Canadian information my way on living in Canada, please let me know. I’m hoping/praying/wishinguponastar that Obama wins, but if McCan wins, we’re moving.

I’m going to learn the Canadian fight song. “O Canada! Our home and native land!…”

Yeah, you with the jeans shorty shorts up to your pancake boobs sporting camel toe.

Would you mind giving me a minimum of a three-second warning the next time you’re going to let your ten-year-old kid light fire crackers ten feet from my kids?

Is is a hard concept to understand the close proximity to my little kids that you have your kid lighting fire crackers with your cigarette?

I didn’t think so considering you let your jeans shorty shorts ride up your clam all fucking day and let your ten-year-old kid light fire crackers with your cigarette.

Love,

Me

P.S. I think you need to clean up “down there.”

This is what I looked like when I thought I was FAT.

This is what I look like NOW when I think I’m not THAT fat, am I?

Cupcakes! nom nom nom

Well, hello there, visitors from Huckdoll’s Hood and repeat lovahs. I’ve been awaiting your arrival.

The toilets are clean, the floor is vacuumed, and dinner is ready for you on the table. That’s more than I do for my own mother, so feel special, bitches.

I thought and thought and thought about what you would enjoy reading about, and since I’m a less-than-average blog writer, I’m sharing my finale of my Top 100.

#1 it’s a list (and I LOVES me a list), #2 it’s a way to get you to know me, and #3 I need to finish this Top 100 thing out since I’m on post #235. I’m a bit of a procrastinator.

For previous Top 100s - #1-20, 21-40, 41-60, & 61-80.

81. I believe in a person’s right to choose on every aspect of life, except when that choice may lead to the demise or affliction of another person or animal.

82. I feel passionately about marriage rights and equal rights for every person.

Still with me? I’m really not that serious. I just wanted the quality readers to stick with me through good and silly.

83. I watch far too much TV for a healthyish person. When we bought our fancypants TV, we asked about the TV’s lifespan. The sales guy was all, “Yeah, it will last for 10 years under normal TV-watching circumstances.” I ask, “Sooooo, what is considered ‘normal TV-watching circumstances’?” Sales guy, “Ha Ha (I remember the laughing distinctly), you know, like 6-8 hours a day. Under those circumstances, the TV will last you at least 10 years.” Ummmmm…. I’m inclined to think our TV will last us about 2.75 years.

84. My fat neighbor has bigger boobs that I do. We drive past his house every weekend and have to see the pregnant man belly and boobs covered in man hair, so I know this for a fact.  For a fluffy woman, I have proportionately small boobs. I have to buy my bras in the fat-girl store. Not even in the JCPenney lingerie department. The fat-girl store. Even then, I have space left in the cups for storing food. nom nom nom

85. I was blessed with really great hair but not with the motivation to fix it every day. Or even every week. If I meet you at Target, it will be pulled back in a ponytail and my frizz halo sprayed down with hairspray. If you’re lucky, it will have been picked out. If not, it will be a nest fit for a rat. See my progression o’hair:

86. I have the best husband I could possible wish upon a star for. He believes him doing the dishes counts as foreplay. He flirts with my friends online and in real life, and I count that as foreplay. It’s Business Time.

87. I have two incredibly beautiful and smart girls. My oldest turns 4 on the 4th and my youngest is 2 1/2. If you mess with them, I will cut you.

88. I started a web store after I quit working to stay home with my girls. It’s pretty successful. Go there and buy something. Now. This will wait.

Did you go? No? GO NOW, BITCHES. BUY. Mama has an IRS bill to pay.

89. I have recently discovered Plurk. Because of Plurk, I no longer care for my children, do laundry, bathe blog as much as I want.

90. I loves me some queso. I have the belly to show for it.

91. I believe you should dress for your size. Yes, fat girls, you, too. I never have and never will claim to be a fashionista by ANY means. But, come ON. If you have a belly, wear a shirt that doesn’t hug your Michelin Man. Stuff that muffin top back in your low-riders, take your fat ass to Lane Bryant, and get yourself some pants that fit.

92. I believe I have the face of a 14-year-old boy. Just without the black peach fuzz. I’ve always had bad skin, but once I got on the Pill at 18, it cleared up for the most part. During my two pregnancies and nursing, my skin was near flawless. But now. I have enough grease on my face, back, and chest to run a Taco Bell. Please don’t suggest skin care regiments. I’ve tried Arbonne, Neutrogena, Proactiv, Dove, Ivory, and prescription shit. NOTHING works. Next step: Accutane.  SHIVVVERS

93. I have suffered from IBS (irritable bowel syndrome) in the past, and it creeps up on me like your Grandma’s ex-lax. I spent 4 days in the hospital a few years ago due to severe stomach pains, had my gall bladder out, have been on anxiety meds, and have finally gotten it under control. Aside from the occassional peeing-out-of-my-ass incidents, I’ve been pretty good since having my girls. Now since I’m saying I’m good, I’ll have an episode tonight on the floor of my bathroom. NO - not the ass pee on the floor. ME on the floor writhing in pain while my Ambien-taking husband sleeps the night away.

94. I believe the DVR/TiVo is the greatest invention since bread television. I was raised in a TV-watching household, so I blame my addiction to TV on my parents. I remember watching 90210 in high school w/ my sister and my dad, and my dad would get PISSED if we took a phone call during the commercials. I can still hear him yelling at me down the hall as I broke up with my Senior-year boyfriend over the phone during the commercial of a taped episode. (That’s me confessing to breaking up with my Senior-year boyfriend over the phone during the commercial of 90210.) It’s a serious addiction, but one I’m not going to give it up. Even if you came and filmed me on an episonde of Intervention. But that would be kinda cool to be on a TV show about an addiction to TV.

95. I believe Barack Obama should be our next President. If he’s not, we’re coming to Vancouver. For serious.

96. I believe I am the best mom I can be, but I think I can strive to be better.

97. I am a HORRIFIC housewife. One of the reasons I started my webstore is was to be able to afford a housekeeper. I believe The Secret brought her to me.

98. The best thing about being stay-at-home or work-at-home is being able to shit in my own toilet. See #93. Once you have the pleasure of taking a deuce on your own shitter every day, I can imagine it’s tough to go back to having to go up 3 floors to use someone else’s crapper so your co-workers don’t hear your poo’s splashback.

99. One I should never write long posts if one I am is not willing to read long posts. Unless you promise to end with a joke or are as funny as watching a monkey play with his own nutsack (and who doesn’t find that funny), keep your posts simple and easy-to-read. Mama’s got 145ish things to do.

100. I am always right.

I don’t get it. Really. Don’t get it.

The only part of eDrama* that I MAY be able to comprehend is the anonymity of it. Where you can say whatever you want about someone else and they can’t bust your tires. Or they won’t give you an icky look across the grocery aisle. Or they won’t ostracize you at the 3 year old birthday party.

But to accuse another blogger of stealing their “material”?

Ummmm. Exsqueeze me?

Start accusing me, please. I read about 150 differnet blogs a week, and I beg, borrow, and steal from each and every one of them.

When I may refer to myself in the 3rd person, I’m stealing from Bossy.

When I post pictures of my kids, I’m stealing from Sarcastic Mom.

When I Picnik my pictures, I’m stealing from Mental Poo.

When I talk about sex, I’m stealing from XBox4NappyRash.

When I talk about depression, I’m stealing from Bliss in Bloom.

When I talk about the crazies in my family, I’m stealing from Shamelessly Sassy.

When I’m crude, I’m stealing from Avitable.

When I put my face on someone else’s picture, I’m stealing from Fussypants.

When I talk about busting someone’s ass, I’m stealing from Miss Britt and Magnet Bold Too.

When I talk about the craziness of running a household, I’m stealing from Mom2My6Pack.

When I post artistic pictures, I’m stealing from Secret Agent Mama.

When I answer reader questions, I’m stealing from Rosie.

When I close my posts to comments, I’m stealing from Dooce.

When I talk about my husband being an awesome dad, I’m stealing from Busy Dad and my own husband.

When I insert pictures into my posts to reinforce my point, I’m stealing from Derfwad Manor.

When I talk about losing a family member, I’m stealing from Kaiser Alex.

When I’m completely random and talk about my life, I’m stealing from Huckdoll.

When YOU post a LIST, you are STEALING FROM ME. And I’m sure 1000 other bloggers.

So, please, for bloggy’s sake. Keep your drama to your mama, and post for yourself and no one else. Don’t post for other people.

By the way, you may see other’s posting about eDrama tonight and this week. We’re not stealing from each other. We all just happen to be thinking of the same thing on the same day.

If you have some eDrama to bring my way, I welcome it. Maybe I’ll get more readers.

*I stole the term eDrama from Shamelessly Sassy. I better watch my fat ass.

Little known facts about me you really didn’t need to know but my head doesn’t work even though I’m a smarty but since puppy dogs and daisies are taking root in my brain, I’ll just expose myboobsself. And I loves me a list.

*I still wear maternity pajamas. Cause they’s sexy. And they make me feel skinnier.

*I had eleventeen ideas on what to post about tonight when I was lying with my girls begging them with my mind to sleep, but they’ve all flown away.

*eDrama sucks nutty balls. I never want to be a part of it, and hope no one ever feels the need to attack me. If you do, I have some scrappy bastards ready to come after you. Not that I’m threatening. Just saying.

*I have a housekeeper whom I probably pay too much. Shut up. I know. But I won’t can’t clean.

*DO NOT FUCKING try to make me feel better about saying this, but I’m a suckass blogger. It’s the whole puppy dogs and daisies taking root.

*Or the nasty “d”-word is creeping into my head.

I leave you with this, big fat fucking creeping-in depression. You suck nutty balls.

I was inspired by the genius that is Magneto Bold Too for the use of the smite pic. I don’t want to get involved in eDrama and get accused of stealing shitty shit.

Inside my head for the evening:

*puppy dogs and daisies. soooo cute! squishy mushy fluffy KISSES!

*my neck is sweating

*my lappy is burning a hole between my legs (X - i’ve handed you this one on a platter)

*ihopethegirlsdon’twakeup ihopethegirlsdon’twakeup ihopethegirlsdon’twakeup ihopethegirlsdon’twakeup ihopethegirlsdon’twakeup

*i can totally do those moves on SYTYCD

*yup - just did them all

*i’ve been waiting YEARS for a show like Baby Borrowers. it should be required viewing for ALL teenagers.

*is my Plurk page updated?

*fast-forward Baby Borrowers

*saying, “i’m good with kids” does NOT make you a good parent (see: me - i’m not good w/ kids - just my own)

*dag nabbit - these teens get their own fancy furnished house - that’s not real life - try living with your mom’s hand-me-town tupperware and the $1 store pots & pans - THAT’S real life

*why isn’t plurk auto-updating. awful lot of plurccups the last few days. grrrrrr

*will someone volunteer to take my girls off my hands when they’re 10-18?

My imaginary IM bloggy friend, Amanda at Shamlessly Sassy, has demanded I answer her pressing question.

I sit here tired, weaning off meds (cause my friggin Dr. office won’t call me back), and busy beyond belief. (But I’m kind of glad to post tonight b/c my mom is here in town and won’t be reading my blog for a few days, so hopefully she won’t go back in the archives and find this.)

I wasn’t even planning on posting tonight. THAT’S how tired I am.

But NOOOOOO. Miss Sassy is stalking me, demanding/pleading/begging me to write about peni. The peen. The man stick. The love stick.

I am giving in. I will answer:

“New question: What do you think about penises? Have you ever been randomly flashed by a stranger? If there was a new handy computer tool called a penis, would you use it?” 

THINK about them? I try not to. I’m gay. My husband knows.

Randomly flashed? No, thank GOD.

New handy computer tool? Does it count as a computer if it runs on batteries? If so, then yes, I use it.

Happy now, Miss Sassy?

How about questions for YOU since you FORCED me to answer tonight - How much do you weigh? How much did you weigh when you graduated high school?

Personal enough for you?