LMFAO Friday ~ Swine Flu Week Two Edition

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Yes, week two of bleep-bleepedy-bleep-bleep-bleepin' Swine Flu. But on the upside, Sam's sister came by yesterday with his TV and coffee pot and some other stuff from the storage unit, so he's officially stopped drinking up my coffee. Proof that there is a God... and that God likes Sam.

Hubby not so much, cause I'm totally ready to kill him, but that's old news, so I won't even bother elaborating this time.

My lungs are still congested. I'm still so wheezy that I couldn't sneak up on a deaf person, and therefore, by extension, I'm still friggin' exhausted and sleeping all kinds of weird hours. Let me put it to y'all this way; if my immune system was a car, it'd be a 12 year old Yugo.

So enough of my personal wah-biddy-wah-wahs... Let's get to LMFAO Friday!

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Every teenage boy in the world wants those teachers creating materials for them!




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Filming for the new National Lampoon movie started today.




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Once again, cigarette companies have denied that they're targeting children...




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Carl's boss didn't appreciate him installing joke switches on the customers' propane tanks.




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When prostitutes are born again...




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Oh, how sweet, Timmy was sharing.




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...and that'd be the weather in Fathead, Arkansas, Bob.




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From a money making standpoint, that's a win-win situation if I ever saw one.




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The rappers have finally gotten the best of Jersey.




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They let me drive tour buses again...




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Hey Jeannie, fyi, your taillights are out.
Hey Joe, fyi, your brakes need to be replaced.




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Obviously, this is mislabeled... it's supposed to be a pedicure set.




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The kid with the price gun used to be an auctioneer...

Blame Shifting, Cough Syrup and Schmuley

So, I started getting better, kind of, and re-read the last post, and found the first three paragraphs SO choppy that it's a friggin' miracle that anyone read the whole post, which may have been subliminally intentional since I told everyone how I went over my bandwidth by streaming porn, to which 'Anonymous' commented that I probably picked up a virus instead of actually going over watching the streamed porn videos, so I checked it with a program that my suspected 'Anonymous' tip giver gave me, and sure enough, I picked something up... except I told hubby that he did it, cause I kept going to ONE site and checking out a whole lotta things, whereas he went to so many sites he was making me dizzy so I left the room, which may have been intentional on his part. Besides, he didn't care that I was dying, as long as I got up and cooked him something to eat, so he deserves the blame on principle alone.

Do you like how I justified the blame-shifting? If any of you new brides want personal lessons, contact me for class times and fees.


Anyway, I've decided not to write any more posts after swigging cough syrup like vodka. Unless I've also taken Benadryl, because that would be either beyond hilarious or very helpful if printed out and distributed to AA and NA groups as a cautionary tale of warning. But for your sake, I ran out I haven't had any in the last three hours today... and by today I mean Wednesday, September 30th because it's like 1 am. So there you go, from the land of sobriety.

Not like I was Tuesday morning when Kathie Lee and Hoda welcomed Michael Jackson's friend, the Rabbi Schmuley, which just had me nearly wetting myself on the couch cause that name cracked me up, which is totally wrong and I am so going to hell... but hey, at this point, I've pretty much got a standing reservation... yeah, I didn't ruin the couch though, I only put the cough syrup to it's most strenuous test via non-stop laughter while attempting to not cough up a lung or two for that matter.

While I managed to keep my lungs, I did find myself completely exhausted and passed out fell sleep soon after... still snickering to "Schmuley" in my head. Poor guy, you know he went though absolute hell in school... at least he would have in my school; and I grew up in a town that was over 90% Jewish. True story. In my world as a kid, the term JAP had nothing whatsoever to do with being of Asian heritage OK?

Actually, The Today Show is totally stepping up to the plate lately. First they talked to the woman who got pregnant while she was already pregnant, which, to me sounds like the worst kind of karma ever... as in you did something so heinous that you have to give birth two months apart. Any woman who has given birth knows how bad that would suck. Like bowling ball through a garden hose suck. Then of course, Rabbi Schmuley, then Meredith sneezed which was so newsworthy it made the website. Matt's just glad she didn't give him Swine Flu because that would have rumors flying like when he was in the last days of co-hosting with Katie the human Kewpie doll...at least she was until she started doing the nightly news, now she's more stressed looking than Kate with sole custody of her eight. Just sayin.

I, on the other hand, look in need of having my roots done and gastric bypass surgery. I guess stressed is better than being looped on cough syrup and laughing your ass off at the name Schmuley and then filling your blog post with the name Schmuley because it cracks you up almost as much when you're sober but lacking sleep after 1 am... Then there's the ability to post the picture more than once!

Oh, yeah, and one other thing...

Schmuley.

I think hubby being home all these months made me 12 too. Actually, that's that blame-shifting thing again, because my sister can attest to the fact that I have had these juvenile bouts of silliness on and off for my entire life.

Schmuley.

It Doesn't Pay To Be Dying From Swine Flu In This House

Jim Henson via last.fm

It only helps to have Swine Flu when dealing with people outside your home, because inside your home people don't care if you die of no-antibiotics-prescribed-Swine-Flu and the obvious heart failure that you're totally going to have just like Jim Henson and John Ritter even if John Ritter actually had an undiagnosed congenital heart condition. Whatever. I'm still going to die and no one here will care until they run out of every single dish in the whole house, but then they'll just buy paper plates and my son will be lucky to get his diaper changed like every 9 hours or so, as long as music isn't playing.

So I'm kind of feeling better today, in part because I slept pretty much all weekend long. Seriously. Well except at night, but I'll tell ya more about that in a minute.

But outside the house, I get the Swine Flu sympathy vote which earned me two blog awards, which I'll post separately later this week in order to fulfill the proposed 'rules' of acceptance so I'm not just a taking skag, cause that's so, so rude. Anyway, I don't even mind that these are sympathy awards, just like the Irving G Thalberg award that they give to people who are less than a click from dying on the Oscars, the ones that they wheel out and can barely hold the microphone because they're so weak. So to you Kaye and DG, I thank you profusely with my dying breath. And yes, I am using my dying breath to thank y'all because you show appreciation which is way more than people sharing my home address do. Even though I do so much more for them than sporadically write a blog.

Ahh the love... That I don't get... It's underwhelming.

Like when I showed hubby how we could stream porn now that we've got high speed internet. You think he'd be thrilled to have a wife so cool about that kind of thing and fall to his knees in gratitude after I showed him all the best clips to watch sites to go to.

So what happens today, when we check the usage for the 3G card, which, I have to tell you, we've only had since the 11th. The one that the Blarney-Gifted salesman assured us would take like forever to get up to 5 gigs... Yeah, two weeks and three days later, we're OVER USAGE. Holy fuckballs he was homicidal upset and accused me of going over because I'd spend night after night streaming porn.

Unbelievable!!! Just cause I totally did I got lucky and found a couple of primo things to show him he thinks I spent all my bandwidth watching people with much better figures than mine doin' the kind of do that I, with my current state of whale like fattness back problems can no longer do, not to mention that hubby won't come near me cause I'm dying of Swine Flu and when it's our sick son sleeping in our bed, it doesn't matter if he gets it, but from his wife, no fucking way... even if I offered to wear a dust mask like they show everyone in Mexico wearing. So, for my part of the world, it's almost fashionable, and shouldn't my husband be thankful that I'm worried about my fashion sense on my deathbed AND I'm offering him sex. I slept all day because I'm dying and he just doesn't care.

Neither hubby nor my body give a damn that my hormones are pre-menopausal making me hornier than a 16 year old on ecstasy. My vajayjay doesn't care if I'm dying of Swine Flu. It doesn't even care if my lungs are so congested that I can hear myself wheezing over the moans piped into my earphones, which, I'm thinking is another good indicator that I'm millimeters from death cause I had the volume turned WAY up so there's no way that I should be able to hear the death rattle of my lungs over someone experiencing 12 inches, OK?

And besides, hubby should totally be understanding because I gave him first dibs I'm dying, duh. And there were so many programey-type things we couldn't download until we had high speed so it totally could have been any number of things that caused us to go over. It wasn't necessarily porn because that really was only two nights, since my hormones got in line with my Swine Flu and now I'm just hot flashing or possibly having the sweats from my body trying to fight off this beast of an infection...

And besides, I'm dying.

Swine Flu in the Old Lady House

Well, it's official. We took the munchkin to the doctor Monday, and he's on the back end of Swine Flu. Of course we found this out after he'd played with every single kid in the waiting room and gone up to every adult and said, "Hello!!" because my child is nothing if not social.

I, myself, woke up Tuesday morning with a very sore throat and a kinda snorkiness in my head and think it's quite possible that I'm on the front end of Swine Flu. Yay. Combined with the backache I've had for three days due to the rains coming in, I'm just havin' a grand ole time over here! That was sarcasm for the uninitiated.

But, aside from that, our good friends, D&D were here over the weekend (if y'all get Swine Flu, bitch at hubby he invited you for this weekend, instead of waiting a week like I'd originally suggested.) and Lady D was telling me that she got rid of all their bugs (they too are a Texas country household) by putting out moth balls.

She swore, no spiders or mosquitoes or tree roaches any of which, in Texas, are both par for the course, as well as large enough to abscond with your toddler and sell him on the black market.

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Needless to say, with my pussy ghostly white Irish-non-Texas-saddlebag skin, getting rid of the mosquitoes made my ears perk up, but when she mentioned the other bugs that she no longer had in her home, I was all, smell hell, I'm gettin' me some moth balls!

So I did... OK, I'm lying. I had hubby get them cause he owed me for sabotaging my Sunday

So it is that I'm sitting here typing this in a Swine Flu ridden home that smells just like old lady, except, I must have only known 'hip' old ladies, because I never knew any who had a house that smelled like this.

I think my sore throat is getting worse from the smell.

Happily, though, munchkin and I are new-mosquito-bite free. That's huge because they've been FIERCE since the rains started. In fact, I'm pretty sure that picture above is life-sized.

But, I'm confident I'll live. As long as no more flying-monkey-sized mosquitoes feast on me, thereby inflicting mortal wounds; and Swine Flu doesn't kill me, cause in southeast Texas, they don't give you antibiotics for Swine Flu. Which, just, ya know, as a deductive hypothesis, may be why the mortality rate for Swine Flu is kinda high in the Houston area. Just sayin'.

But, I haven't hit the lotto yet, so I can't die.

That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

Till I'm floating above my husband who is picking out my pine box. Then maybe I'll consider believing otherwise.

Maybe.