Saturday, 21 July 2012

Robin Williams syndrome, camel toe and rinsing brain out with soap...all in all, normal day.

There is a great Robin Williams joke where he has had a few too many and is pulled over by the po-po.
As the officer is walking up to the car RW is practicing saying a common phrase all so soberly.

'What seems to be the problem officer? What seems to be the problem officer? What seems to be the problem officer?..okay,okay, I'm good, here he comes.'

'Sir, license and registration'

'Vat zeems tabe depobem-  hic -ossifer?'

Utter fail.

I'm Robin Williams, without the drug or alcohol problem and about only half the body hair.

(Rowwwr, sounding kinda sexy aren't I?)

That's my sexy pose,
 Mixture of I think I have malaria ,feel my fore head
Eww, I think I touched something sticky.

That saying of 'You can dress them up but don't give them pie....or take them places that have pie, something like that'. I'm told that all the time.

Example #1 - At bootcamp as usual,(just realized that with the amount of time I talk about bootcamp that people who read this and don't know me must think I am TOIGHT....yeeeah, not.) and I'm looking like all the other boot campers. (To a degree.) 

t-shirt- check
yoga pants - check
ankle socks- check
sneakers- check
hair in ponytail- check
Go and sit in my normal spot
Start bootcamp.

Sounds normal doesn't it?

Behind the scenes

-put on tshirt...maybe I'll wear yoga tank top today, arms looking okay,not bad..sitting in car at the end of driveway, suddenly throw car back into park, race in and throw three sizes too big t-shirt back on. Hello, my old friend.
-put on yoga pants- hmm, they're loose on my waist but I seem to  still have the dreaded camel toe. Surely you can't develop a muscle on your..." 

...and the problem with my toes is what?

Spend 10 minutes googling 'Possiblility of exercise giving you  a muscular vajajay?'
Wondering if other's have this, spend couple of minutes picturing fellow bootcampers then realizing I'm  picturing if fellow bootcampers have muscular vajajay...rinsing brain out with soap.
-ankle socks- sneaking up to sleeping offspring and peeling off socks while they are dreaming about pie.
-sneakers- take out of locked curio cabinet since I spent more time and money on them then I did my first wedding
-hair in ponytail - wash hair, dry hair, pull it all back in messy ponytail so it won't look like I was trying...elapsed time of not trying: 40 minutes, really not giving a shit: 60 minutes min.
Go sit in normal spot- put away shiv, carried just in case someone had tried taking my spot
Start bootcamp.

So that's all fine, but then the Robin Williams syndrome kicks in.

Scenario- sitting on precious spot on floor waiting for boot camp to start
Have E-Reader up as shield so don't have to speak/embarrass myself.
Cute, fit instructor comes up(obviously not having crazy syndrome coursing threw her veins) and asks,

"You're a reading fan I see."

Normal response (I know this as I have read them in books, not because I ever give one)

'Yup, love books. Can't seem to put them down, obviously'
They both laugh politely and she moves on to the another normal person.

Yuuuup, pretty normal.
No crazy here, nope, nope nope.

My response (*resigned sigh*)

"You're a reading fan I see"

'More than my own kids, I would run you down before looking up from my book...seriously, dude I would'...awkward pause...followed by trilling insane giggle and anecdote about being a bit of a slut 20+ years ago in Montreal and how I know lot's of Spanish swear words from spanish men I slept with back then.....why this topic? No clue.
...then there was Vincent, then Alejandro and  Henri and  Maria  eep...umm, I mean Mario.
I'm sorry,what were we talking about?
Hello? hello?...Wonder where she went?

I now look at all the other non- camel toed, normal looking bootcampers and wonder if maybe there is one or two that have a touch of the Robin William's syndrome like me.

Anyone...just a smidge?
*resigned sigh #2*

(Liar, liar camel toe on fire)


Sunday, 15 July 2012

Put the lotion in the f*#$in' basket!(10 pts in huge giveaway if you caught the movie reference)

I tend to do weird things when I'm bored.
The End.

That's it.
That's the whole post.

Hello? I'm not kidding.


Go away.



I'm feeling kind of sorry for you now since your life is obviously more boring than mine.

I mean not in the way you feel sorry for those kids on tv who haven't eaten for a week.

You- Oh my,  those poor little sprouts- (yeah, I don't know why I'm suddenly sounding like Dolly Parton either)- I just want to gather them to my delicate rock like bosom and feed them jelly donuts till they spew. Now where is my check book? My, that's odd it was lodged under my left boob. Wonder how long it was there?

Come here you cute little itsy bitsy darlings
Why I could just eat you right up, you all are so sweet!

Umm, you know what scary nice lady
We're good eating what we have right here.
Yummmy, sand....
Is she gone yet?

'Oh,those poor little darlin's whatever I can do to help I'll do it -
DING!- oh, my popcorn is ready, yumm, .
Now what was I doing....oh, yeah. True Blood marathon!

That's pretty horrible.

I mean not staying up to date on True Blood weekly just sends a poor life lesson to your kids.
Just saying.

Anyhoo back to feeling sorry for me...or you. Whatever, I can't keep track so let's just focus on me 'cause J'adore moi.
(Mistress of Immodesty folks, not Mistress of Fake Boob Bitches pretending to care about the rest of the world)

I was telling you that I sometimes do weird things when I'm bored.
It was brought to my attention by my eldest offspring when he commented on something in my living room.
Let's see if you notice it in the first picture.

Eek, needing some new furniture.
There goes the frenchmen's holiday plans.
Damn, I'm a keeper.
You'd think I must be really good in bed.
You'd think it.
Anyhoo, did you notice the oddity?

Nope you say? (Ignoring you keeners in the back who already have their hands up, put them the hell down you stupid wankers. Hmm, another career to be crossed off list,Teacher)

Here's another picture closer up.

 No, you boring twats. It's not that I need  curtains!
Imagine if that was it.
Wow, soooooo funny!
Going to tell everyone about this blog with the window that needed new curtains.
Conan, I have this writer for you. She does this bit with a curtainless window..
Bwahahaah.....ah, no.

Still nothing? (I swear I'll cut your hands off if you put them up one more time. Anything to do with children, crossed off career list.)

I'll give you a hint.

Betty, all around cutie pattotie, pee supplier ('cause wood floors can't get enough moisture especially in this hot weather) and distributor of....
Do you get what it is? Do you want a closer look, 'cause if you're still with this blog post you obviously have nothing better to do...
Yup, it's just as pretty close up. Kind of like  a Picasso.
It's a bowl of Picasso like dog hair.
Now this wouldn't be so weird if I had just recently brushed Betty but I did that three weeks ago.
 The weird part is that for some reason I don't want to get rid of it.

My offspring and I had a chat about it and the sad thing is that isn't the weirdest conversation we had that day.

OS - Nice decorating Mom. Hair bowl is the new black this season?

M- I like it, it gives the room texture.

OS - Like Buffalo Bill in Silence of the Lambs thought the women screaming in the hole were just ambiance?

M- Yeah, like that. 

OS- (Eyebrows raised)

M- Wait, this where you tell me I need to get out more?

OS- It's either that or stay in with a lock on the outside of your door.

See, aren't you wishing that you had left when I told you from the start?

Thursday, 5 July 2012

Bootcamp, three ways. Not a threeway bootcamp, that would just be cleaning of lots of unknown liquids, ya pervs.

Every time I come home from boot camp my daughter/son/hubby asks the same question.

How was boot camp?

I seem to always want to karate kick people in the head when they ask dumb questions like that, but with my new found patience (and the threat of jail) I don't do that.


This actually what I look like when I do it, I have a full size cat suit in the closet.
That's just a really big ass dog.

Back to the family.
 I'm not quite sure why they ask it, 'cause it's not like I come home singing from the Sound of Music.
I scoot out of class like the hounds of hell are chasing me.
Or Tom Cruise is eyeing me for wife number 4.
I then zoom home 'cause I can feel the muscles starting to seize.
I  proceed to worry the neighbors as I sit in my car in the driveway with the door open while having a little nap on the steering wheel.

I'm telling you George there is something not right with that girl.
Who has a specially made cat suit in her closet?
I mean, really, when the Walmart has lots of lovely ones at half off.

When I exercise at all my face turns an especially lovely color of red.
I've had complete strangers ask me if 'I'm okay' through out the years. 
(Hence the cat suit and knowledge of jail with the karate kicks)

So I'm walking into the house with the red face and sweat pouring off me and without fail the question comes.

How was boot camp?
No kicking aloud
Besides you  just finished vacuumed all the cat hair up from the last ass kicking.

I'm not sure if you noticed but sarcasm is bit of a forerunner for me when I'm asked anything.
So I've come up with a couple of slightly insincere answers depending on my audience.

Answer to 11 yr old offspring

Ah, just the norm.
We all gather in a big circle.
The lady who's first wearing the boot, Pam, starts us off with a singalong.
She then passes the boot to Julie who is a bit of a high stepper fan , so then we dance.
Then it's passed to either Holly or the 'other' Melissa and we do kind of individual dances with them.
Then the boot is passed into the center and we all listen as the boot tells us a lullabye so we can take a nap.

Answer to 18 yr old offspring.

Ah, just the norm.
We all gather in a big circle.
Then Bootie, Pam's nickname, brings out the medicinal ciggs.
We proceed to all partake in the 'special smokes', wind up taking our shirts off
and start talking about our periods while sitting cross legged in our bras.

and then the answer to the 52 yr old hubby.

Ah, just the norm.
We all gather in a big circle.
The main rule in Boot camp is you can't talk about boot camp.
Let's just say, a bunch of girls, sweaty, heavy breathing, who are predisposed to talking things off.
(Sneakers, but he doesn't need to know that . He's paying so I have to throw him a bone sometimes.)

B- 'What the hell do I have to do with this blog?'
M- 'You're pretty, just shut up and stand there.'