How do YOU define true love?
Me? I define it like this…

Someone: “I’ve got a huge zit on my ass!”
Someone’s significant Other: “Want me to pop it for you?”
That, people, is true love in it’s rawest, most beautiful form.
(Names left out to protect the sickos innocent)

Why in the hell didn’t anyone tell me it wasn’t “EDDIE are you ok?” (Well, Melly told me, but that was just last week and I’ve been singing it that way my ENTIRE LIFE!)
And who in the hell is Annie anyway? Not that I knew who Eddie was, but still…
Surely, I can’t be the only one who has thought that all of these years.

So, the feeling I’m getting is that everyone LOVES THE CHEESE! Ok, maybe they don’t “love it” but people are definitely digging the CHEESE!
Melly? not really feeling my cheese. Are you feeling it? DO YOU WANT TO FEEL MY CHEESE?
OK! Enough with the cheese.
It’s funny, even though I’ve only been away for what? A week? It feels like I’ve been away forever. Everytime something funny would happen, everytime something would annoy the crap out of me, everytime Gabby would smile, fart, puke in my mouth (and TRUST ME, you haven’t LIVED until you’ve gone to kiss a baby only to be blessed with tittymilk puke IN YOUR MOUTH),giggle, poop in the tub, pee while I was changing her, everytime Tony said something hilarious, I’d want to run to my computer to write about it, but I couldn’t! It was a tragedy! And I’m not exaggerating at ALL! I missed it.
And you missed me. YOU DID! I have the emails to prove it. Damn, it feels good to be missed.
But it does NOT feel good the day after a really good workout. No, it doesn’t at all. I hurt everywhere. And for the first time in years, I can feel my ASSBONES. Or muscles, whatever, it’s funnier to call them assbones. I didn’t realise how much I MISSED working out. That’s right, I missed it. I missed the sweating, the aching, the pain, but I did NOT miss OTHER PEOPLES STICKY ASS SWEAT ON THE MACHINES because they are TOO LAZY TO WIPE IT OFF! That’s just not cool, people, wipe the sticky stuff. Thank you.
With that, I must go eat breakfast before The Boss of me wakes up.

Can somebody in Arizona please hand Bush a hankie so he can wipe that lil bit o’spit out of the corner of his mouth so I can WATCH the damn debates without gagging? Please?

You can file this post under “No one really needs to know this, but I’m sharing it anyway”…

I need new chonies, underwear, panties, whatever you want to call them. Let me tell you WHY I need new ones.
I didn’t buy a single pair of them the entire time I was pregnant. And as I got bigger, it became a problem, because, well, not only was my stomach getting bigger, so were my thighs and my ass. So, to compensate for the leg growth, I did what any person in denial about how rapidly their ass and thighs were growing would do…
I RIPPED THE SIDES OF MY CHONIES A LITTLE. You know, so my circulation wouldn’t get cut off at the top of my thighs, eliminating the need for amputation.
So now I am wearing chonies with tears in the side, that are way to big on me.
And yes, Tony still thinks I’m sexy, but only because he hasn’t actually SEEN them. Because I roll them up into my other clothes when I put them in the hamper and I put them away really fast when I wash them. Because he would LAUGH AT ME and MAKE FUN OF ME and tell me just to go BUY SOME NEW ONES ALREADY
But I don’t want to just yet. I want to be an ass size smaller so I can feel proud and good about myself. Kinda like just the opposite of how I feel when I put on my overized, but formally were too tight so I ripped them to MAKE THEM FIT, chonies.
I can trust you not to tell anyone about this, right?

Me: “You know who Dick Morris is, right?”
Her: “Dick Morris? Personally, I prefer a guy named More Dickus.”

I’m out of CONTROL with the cleaning products. The JOYS of being a stay at home mom! And I’m not being sarcastic.

I lost my shit at Vons last night. They had all kinds of new cleaning products on sale. And I had coupons. AND THEY DOUBLE THEM!
Oh, the products I purchased! Where do I even begin? Let’s start with the new love of my life(Oxiclean is so 5 months ago) The Magic Eraser. Let me just say, they call it “magic” for a reason! It took black marks off my front door that I had tried to get out with other products, but failed, in no time! And the best part? They were on sale, 2 for $4.00 and I had 2 $1.00 off coupons, which means THEY WERE FREE (because Vons doubles the coupons!) It doesn’t get any sweeter than that for a housekeepin’, cleaning product WHORE!
My new favorite laundry product? Downy Simple Pleasures fabric softener. (which, I got for $2.99, because it was on sale AND I had a coupon) Oh my God, THE SMELL!!!! I’ve already done 3 loads of laundry, and it’s not even 9am. And the living room (where the clothes are piled on the sofa, because I don’t believe in actually folding laundry) smells like heaven!
But it doesn’t smell like heaven just because of the VANILLA, LAVENDER fabric softener, no sir.eeeee. There’s also a new little contraption on my entertainment center that is periodically letting out little puffs of scented oil (that normally would cost almost $9.00 but because of the sale and my $1.00 off coupon only cost me $2.49!) A farting air freshener!
I love that my house is TOTALLY dirty right now, but SMELLS so beautifully clean. AWESOME.
I woke up so damn happy.
Because of my new cleaning products.
What the hell have I become?

Do you ever wake up pissed at the world? And you really have no reason to be pissed at the world, you just are? And everything that happens from the moment you wake up pisses you off? For no rational reason? Yes? No? IS IT JUST ME?
Have you ever had a bodily function disorder that you were embarrassed to talk about, even to a medical professional, but you think that MAYBE, if you put it out there and ask someone about it, you might discover you’re not alone, that other people suffer from that same bodily function disorder and there’s even a cream for it, but just as you’re getting the nerve up to ask someone, you realise that it’s more than likely just you and you’re body is really fucked up and if you DO talk about it, it will just get really quiet because the person you THOUGHT might be able to relate is repulsed and scared for you because what is happening when you fart to your body is TOTALLY NOT NORMAL and there’s ABSOLUTELY NOTHING any cream or pill can do for you, so you just keep it to yourself and suffer in silence, counting the days until you spontaneously combust from the disorder? NO? IS IT JUST ME AGAIN?
Have you ever written a post and then, you couldn’t figure out a way to end it?
PLEASE TELL ME YOU HAVE SO I STOP FEELING SO ALONE AND ABNORMAL THIS MORNING.

My husband just walked into the bedroom, holding a big ass pair of very dirty granny panties by the tag and asked me “Babe, are these your chonies? They were on the front lawn.”

Um. No. They were NOT my chonies and I have no idea who’s they were.
Now he’s in the bathroom scrubbing his hands with antibacterial soap and hot water while gagging and I’m laughing my ass off thinking that he might have just touched the neighbors dirty panties!
The moral of this story is do NOT assume panties that mysteriously show up on your front lawn at night belong to your woman.

Or something like that.