Reader Poll - Mature Audience Only

WARNING: Blog post contains explicit content (nudity).
May not be suitable for children. Parental discretion is advised.

POLL QUESTION:  Is this normal?!

Dog #1:   GILBERT

Dog #2:   REGGIE

This can't be comfortable, right?!


Waking up to the sight of dog genitalia makes me slightly uncomfortable and causes uncontrollable giggling. I am immature. I should have watched more rated R movies as a child. Maybe I would have been better prepared for situations like this. I am now taking any suggestions/tips on how to alter the sleeping habits of my four-legged children.

Thank You.

Dogs Shut Up When You Bark Back

So after a hard day's work at the new job (by the way....I started a new job), I came home to a sink full of dishes, a white tile floor COVERED in muddy paw prints, and a few (about 50) loads of laundry that I let pile up over the past week to be done. When this happens, I usually prioritize. Obviously, only one household chore can be done in a day. Many people think that due to my heritage I have some inherent want to clean, dust, sweep, etc. Ask Officer Bob. This is a lie. After an internal debate (a little bit of eenie meenie miney moe) I landed on dishes. The easiest of the three. Gimme a break. It was my third day on the job and the state inspector showed up. I think that picking the easiest of three chores upon returning home was a step up from my usual habit of consuming an entire bottle of Kahlua.  I will take the time now to tell you that everything you have read thus far is completely irrelevant. I give you the right to click that little red x in the upper right hand corner of your browsing window now to avoid completely wasting another 2 minutes of your life.

If you are still reading........all the previously stated was written to simply inform you that I was tired after this particular day. Not just tired, but HELLA tired. So.....at 9:00pm, I, the 25 year old going on 65 went to bed. I shut my eyes, rolled over, counted goats, rolled over, covered my face with three pillows, and finally, 20 minutes later decided that maybe my body wasn't quite as ready as my mind for sleepy time. This is where this story gets pretty ridiculous. I think I blacked out or something (and there wasn't even any Kahlua involved!)

I got up.
Walked to my dresser.
Put on my running clothes.
Laced up my totally rad running shoes (thanks to Officer Bob)
Strapped on my GPS watch and reflective vest (no comments necessary)
And walked outside.

By the time I was standing in the cold, rainy weather it was too late to retract this decision. And so, I channeled my inner Forrest Gump, and I ran.

And ran.

And got barked at by EVERY flippin dog in this small town.

And ran.

And actually convinced myself that wearing a reflective vest made me an athlete.

And ran.

And looked down at my watch to see I was passing mile 10.

And ran.

And thought to myself that a Mexican runnin' around a small town at 11:00 at night might be slightly suspicious.

And ran.

And cussed.....ALOT. At myself. I honestly can not tell you what happened to me.

And ran.

And totally jammed out to Journey, singing loudly, and making the flippin dogs bark even louder.

And ran.

And looked down at my watch to see the numbers 13.7.

So I stopped.

13.7

As in miles.

End Time?  11:53pm.

(And for all you runners out there (I'm talking to you El Aguila), I realize this time is slow. I get it. But the number to focus on in this manner is 13.7. Miles. That I ran.)

And then?

I was tired.

So I went to bed.

P.S. In case you are wondering, I already ordered a CT scan and set up an appointment with the best psychologist in town. I'm sick. I need help.

Gonna Lay Ya Down By The Fiyah!

If you plan to visit my household within the next ten to fifteen years, please do not dress like an African-American chef. I realize this is quite a demanding request as I personally don't leave the house without my chef hat and chocolate face paint, BUT please do your best to abide by this rule.

Officer Bob has trained my poor dog to be sincerely frightened of all members of the culinary profession. I sincerely apologize to all chefs, bakers, former elementary school cafeteria workers, and the like.

P.S. Officer Bob owned this lovely figurine prior to our house purchase. It will NOT be displayed in the kitchen as requested.

P.S.S. Just add this video to the long list of ridiculous things that keep me entertained. I need to get a life.

If The Mrs. Told You To Jump Off A Bridge, Would You?

I am:  Chicana (aka Mexican-American for all you gringos out there).

I want:  my kids to be bilingual.

I have:  two tattoos and I only regret one of them.

I wish:   for peace of mind.

I hate:  when people take 11 items to the 10 items or less express lane at the grocery store.

I fear:   not living up to people's expectations.

I hear:   my dog chewing on the carpet and I'm too lazy to get up so I just repeatedly scream his name thinking eventually he will just stop.  

I search:   for that one damn missing sock with which the dryer taunts me.

I wonder:  why there are so many different kinds of mustard, but only one kind of ketchup.

I regret:   that I can't answer this with "nothing"

I love:  the smell of freshly cut grass. (please keep racial comments to yourself.)

I ache:  after a really good workout. (and I admit: that I sometimes like it)

I always:   enjoy proving El Aguila wrong.

I usually:   prove El Aguila wrong.

I am not:   African-American. (a question asked often)

I dance:  like Beyonce. No really....in my mind I think I do.

I sing:  a little less like Beyonce.

I never:   turn down free beer.

I sometimes:   turn down free whiskey.

I cry:   when my car catches on fire with every single piece of jewelry I own inside.  

I lose:   my mind trying to lose weight.

I am grateful:   for great people with which to share this crazy thing called life.

I need:   suggestions for a good book to read as I now have more free time to do so.

I should:   spend that free time instead cleaning the house or training for that dreaded race coming up in three weeks.


You're next . . . Laura, Erica, and anyone with absolutely nothing better to do on a Sunday night.

Gunther Gab: Week 15 Update

SPECIAL REPORT: Gunther has officially matured from a lemon to an orange!

ACTUAL SONOGRAM PHOTOS





It is safe to say that one can pretty easily tell that CareBear is pregnant now! It depresses me knowing that I will never look as cute as she does when I decide to bear my own children. At 40 weeks, she might actally reach the same size as my right thigh (the bigger of the two). Must be rough.

Only 25 weeks to go......

Gunther is growing at an amazing rate and looking more like a human every day. Because Gunther's skin is so thin, you are able to see blood vessels through the skin. Lanugo hair covers the baby's body (just like Daddy!), but it will be gone when Gunther is born.  The hair on the eyebrows and head continues to grow. Gunther is also now able to suck his/her thumb. Even though the eyes continue to move to the front of the face, they are still widely separated.  Gunther's ears look like normal ears and continue to develop externally. The bones that have already formed continue to get harder and retain calcium. Gunther is very mobile and flexible at this point. He/she can bend the arms at the elbows and wrists and can also make a fist with his/her hands.

Also.....if the actual sonogram pictures above provide accurate representation, I believe lemon baby Gunther is a boy and there is no question that orange baby Gunther is the offspring of Titty Baby. But then again, you can't really trust hospital technology these days.

We're Not Exactly What You Would Call "Huggers"

Day: Friday, April 1st 2011

Time: 12:30 p.m.

Setting: Mama Dirt's Hospital Room

Text Message Sent To Huracan Ramirez and El Aguila:
"Mom had surgery. They had to remove her gallbladder."

Actual Responses (via text message):

Huracan Ramirez: "Sweet Baby Jesus"

El Aguila: "Damn. Does she get to keep it in a jar? I wanted to name it."

For those of you who actually care more about her welfare than her very own sons, Mama Dirt is recovering from surgery well. Thank you for your thoughts and prayers.

Reason #38 I Better Get More Than The Boys In The Will