THeY CaLL Me MeLLoW YeLLoW

Yesterday I received an email from a friend that encouraged boycotting the new Mel Gibson movie based on his past transgressions; specifically his antisemitic remarks made following his arrest for drunk driving. The email closed with the statement that Mel Gibson had never apologized for his statements and had shown no remorse for his behavior.

When I receive an email like this one-- cookie cutter diatribe sent to mass lists in people's address books-- I have two tiny characters appear on my shoulders. The Angel on the right whispers in my ear to hit Delete and go back to watching funny puppy videos on YouTube. The tiny red devil on my left jabs me in the eye with his pitchfork until I am compelled to GOOGLE for information that refutes the statement I was sent.

Which I did-and then that same little red devil put the pitchfork into my ear and twisted it inside my brain until I was forced to hit REPLY ALL and to send what I think was the entire congregation of The North Jersey Temple an email with links to Mel's apology in the New York Times.

This is a little like walking into a lion's den holding an entree from Outback Steak House. As possibly the lone Goy, I didn't just stir the pot-I threw the contents in a blender and hit Puree.

Bottom line for me is this:
Hate plus Hate plus Hate equals more Hate.
Hate plus Forgiveness = Love--which is the foundation for ALL religions.
Braveheart = one of my favorite movies evah. Even though I usually do not like movies where people die in the end. There's just something about the way he screams out FREEDOM as he is being deboweled that makes it ok for me.

I'll see a movie for the story it tells. I won't NOT see a movie because someone tells me that I shouldn't for political reasons. Actually, all of this is moot because I won't pay $45 for a babysitter for three hours, $25 for tickets, and $20 for popcorn when I can just wait the three or four months and rent the dern thing and fall asleep in the middle of it in the comfort of my own home.

What can I say? Heck, I am still watching Seinfeld reruns so I guess that's how I roll.

YouR QueSTioNS AnSWeReD

Happy Monday Chickens! I hope you brought your insurance information, because the doctor is in.

OHN wrote:
I have this little thing, over here, now down a little...what is it?

Depends on where you are pointing to, Ohn; the internets makes it a bit difficult to see. If Kreg had written this question I would know EXACTLY what it was, the words "little" and "down" being a dead giveaway. But since it's you, I'm gonna go with a diagnosis of random acne. Most people don't realize pimples can literally pop up anywhere-which would ordinarily lead me to a long story about how I once thought I had a woman's type of cancer because of a weird thing in an odd place --but we're not billing hourly here and I have other patients to see. So I recommend you dab a little Neosporin on it and see if it goes away. If that doesn't work, try Witch Hazel. And drink more. It's my opinion that you can dry out anything if you put enough alcohol inside.

KREG wrote:
Ok doc, what is medically wrong with this person?

I'm glad you asked Kreg, because I am exceptional at celebrity diagnosis. I was one of the first to deduce that Britney had a problem with the crazy. So I'm gonna go with my gut on this one and give you a rational explanation for Amy's behavior. When I was younger, my mother would brush my hair in the morning and she would ask me if rats had crawled into my hair while I was sleeping. I would allow her to work out the snarls and tangles because we shared a common goal of RIDDING ME OF THE RATS" NEST AT THE BACK OF MY NECK. Now obviously, Amy gave up and the rats have moved in and built a condo-and that;'s enough to make any girl look like this. So my solution is:

And I am sure that if she will take my medical advice it will be easier for her to kick the heroin, cocaine and meth problems that are a result of having a bad hair day.

Hi! I'm Amy Wrote;
I have that rundown feelin, my head goes a reelin'. I'm nervous, jumpy & on the edge. Is it neuritis, neuralgia, a head cold or stress?
Or maybe its my sinus drainage?

It's quite obvious she has the Boogie Woogie Blues. Or maybe it's the Rockin Pneumonia. I recommend that you buy an Enya CD, draw yourself a bubble bath scented with eucalyptus, and make sure you are drinking plenty of chardonnay.

Beaux wrote:
I'm sick of work and sometimes I just want to ring my coworkers' necks. Should I quit or should I just suck it up? I talked this over with Dr. House, but I didn't really think I could trust his judgment. Plus he had these watery eyes that just kept blinking and staring out into space. And then of course I am walking around with one foot in the air because I'm trying to kick someones ass. Should I just keep both feet on the ground or try to adjust to this routine of hopping?
I look forward to your response, mostly because hopping is really hard to do for long periods of time.

First of all, Beaux, holding in your anger at your co workers is not healthy and can lead to all sorts of problems, so you should probabaly either start peeing in the company coffee maker, or pick up a copy of How We Handle Work Stress at The Post Office. And put both feet UP. Preferably on the end of a couch while your wife fetches you the television remote. Hopping is very bad for anyone. Having flesh that wiggles is Nature's way of saying Don't Do It.

Finally, BJ wrote:
I have no OFF switch. Even when I sleep, I am rearranging furniture in public areas,conversing with the sled team because they can talk, or driving a 747 like a car down the street (multiple times), in fact the last time I was driving 'the big bird', I rolled down the window and put my arm out to signal a left hand turn. I find humor in too many things that others would not understand, and actually, if I verbalized everything that goes in and out of my head, I would have been locked up with the huggy jacket a loooonnngggg time ago.

My professional opinion is that you may need a little chemical help with some of that free floating mania hyperactivity schizophrenia energy ...please watch the video below and call me in the morning.


I'll be here all week people.

THe DoCToR iS iN

When Jack was cutting something with the exacto knife and the point broke off and flew up into his eye, I'd like to point out that it was ME who correctly diagnosed a corneal abrasion, and advised him to seek medical attention.

Likewise, when Candace showed me the back of her throat and I gave her the news that I thought she had Strep, even while I wasn't 100% correct, she still needed antibiotics so it counts.

I can site numerous other examples where my crackerjack diagnostic skills coupled with my love of WebMD.com have led to medical treatments. Of course, for years now I have had the very best of role models...



and



and let's not forget...



So it's no wonder that I am able to tell you if you are sick. It's just another one of my many superpowers. So feel free to ask my advice on all things medical in the comments below. I'll post my diagnosis on Monday.

I aM I SaiD

Happy Wednesday Chickens!

WHAT I AM READING:

I just finished reading

One Sentence Review: Third book in a series about a girl who is hit by lightening and as a result is able to find dead people so she travels the country with her stepbrother who she has a romantic relationship with and they solve crimes and in all three books the bad guy is the innocuous character that appears in the second chapter that doesn't really do a lot but because so much is written about him/her you just know who did it sorry if I ruined these for you.

WHAT I AM DRINKING

As you can see by my Google Analytics, and the fact that comments left by people like BJ and Kreg are often a million times more entertaining than my posts, I have been pretty much laying off the sauce. But fear not dear readers. I have been learning a lot from Dr. Drew and plan to relapse in a few weeks.



WHAT I AM LISTENING TO

The Spawn have been hogging the CD player lately. ComplicatedBoy was given The Best of Michael Jackson album by Santa, who didn't realize it would lead to incessant performances of Billie Jean while CBoy calls out "Hey Mom- watch me grab my crotch! You're not looking Mom! Really, watch me grab my crotch and walk backwards! Mom, watch me grab my crotch and go up on my toes! Mom- Can I get Jazz shoes?"

Banana, on the other hand, was given a true instrument of torture from Homeland Security. It is a CD on which the cartoon character Dora the Explorer sings a selection of tunes from the '80s. My fellow Mommies will give me big props for sitting through" Vamanos! Celebrate Good Times Come On!" sung in a high pitched nails on a blackboard voice. It's enough to wish Swiper would swipe the CD.

So at work I am driving everybody crazy with obtuse tribute albums. Like the Maowbi Chorus sings U2 in Swahili. Or Bruce Springsteen's greatest hits played on bells.


WHAT I AM WATCHING

I was watching Banana play a computer game the other day HERE This is a game where if you pack your bag, the computer will tell you your PURSE-anality!! I am watching Banana go through her selections,putting make up, cell phone and tissues into her virtual pocket book when she clicks on an icon and asks me What Is Birth Control? Because apparently Japanese Animae characters never leave home without it.

But as far as TV goes, I love A & E's show HOARDERS. I actually said to Sexyhusbandomine that if I had to choose a different profession, I would like to be one of those professional organizers that goes into a person's house and makes it all clean (except i wouldn't ask them if they WANTED to keep the used paper napkin I would just throw their precious items away, cuz that's how I roll as a housecleaner) . Sexyhusbandomine took a look around at our current state of affairs in Chez Veasey and gave a dismissive snort -because apparently I am LIVING in an episode of Hoarders, but whatever.




WHAT I AM LOVING

The trick where you wrap a rubber band around the botton on your jeans, thread it through the opening and back around the button. Brings me right back to the good old days of maternity jeans. ELASTIC WAISTBANDS. Let's bring them back in style, people.

WHAT ARE YOU
reading, drinking, listening to, watching and loving?

CHeaTiNG oN My CHiCKeNS

image courtesy of the frantic meercat

Happy Monday Chickens!

While I know I have been remiss about posting here (thank you kind friends who carried this blog on their shoulders hunched over keyboards for the entire month of December) I have started a new blog that is more visual than literary. I will still continue to attempt to amuse you guys here- but please stop by and give my new site a little love. Let me know what you think

TRAIL OF HEARTS

ATLaNTa ON My MiND

Happy Thursday Chickens, Here's a quick recap of my trip to Hotlanta.



My plane ride there involved someone throwing up in the aisle while waiting for the restroom. Which means I sat for two hours with my shirt pulled up over my mouth and nose like a terrorist, my eyes watering as I tried to quell my gag reflex, pretending to read O magazine and find my happy place and not think about THE VOMIT IN THE BACK OF THE PLANE AND THE WAY THERE IS NO FRESH AIR ON AIRPLANES AND OMG SOMEONE CRACK A WINDOW..... The minute the door opened I made like OJ Simpson in a Hertz commercial and literally VAULTED over seats in order to get off the plane.



Once at the Enesco showroom in the Giftmart, I met Legendary Hollywood Actor Tony Curtis! He was all kinds of sweet. I gave him the mug I made for him and He gave me a big smackeroo on my cheek before we posed for pictures. I stood beside him smiling while the press clicked away while I fought the impulse to give the side of my face a little wipe because that man has some moist lips. I kid. Sorta. I should note he also has the Softest Hands Evah. I know because he held one of mine for like, AN HOUR, while a zealous male fan went on and on and on and on about how Spartacus Changed His Life Blah Blah Blah I am Your Biggest Fan...and I was gonna slink off, but Mr. Curtis just kept holding my hand while that young man waxed poetic. I think I had to hip check him out of the way to get my audience with Mr C.

Right across from the OUR NAME IS MUD showroom stood Meredith Baxter from the television show Family Ties, or if you are as old as dirt me, other television shows like Bridget Loves Bernie, and Family.


She was hawking her great line of skin care products, and her space was packed. I tried several times to get a picture with her, but had to settle for putting my arm around her life size poster cut out. I spent a lot of time waving to her from across the hall with my face pressed up against the glass of my showroom window til the showroom manager complained that smudges from my nose and mouth were blocking shoppers from seeing my products.

When I got the phone call from Sexyhusbandomine and The Spawn in which he let me know that the stomach flu had hit Chez Veasey, I was, as usual, completely drunk and thought they were talking about The Siths from Star Wars--not The Sick. Children. At Home. Because chickens, had I known that The Spawn were ill I would have done what i usually do...extended my trip another day or so and bought more presents at the airport.



But I did not know what awaited me at home, so I got on that early return flight home and was comforted by the fact that TWO PILOTS sat beside me. I like to sit beside pilots on the plane because when the flight gets rocky I can check their faces to see if they have an "o $hit" look on them and that way I know if it's turbulance or if my butt is toast. Plus the stewardesses are usally Extra Nice and that mean Two packs of peanuts. But this is the Gawds Honest Truth chickens-- not five minutes after we were in the air, the two pilots began discussing CRASH LANDINGS. Seems that one of them had recently had to put a small plane down in some cornfield somewhere, and that opened the topic for conversation. Which went on and on and on despite the fact that I had both fingers in my ears and kept saying LA LA LA LA LA.

And then I was home, with a Hotlanta Snowglobe for the Banana, an airport watch for Complicated Boy and a wet kiss on the cheek for Sexyhusbandomine. Ah, Home. Renovations still going on. But that's another story...

EXCyouZe Me!

Happy Tuesday, Chickens!

I will write tomorrow about my fabulous trip to Hotlanta and the kiss I got from legendary Hollywood actor Tony Curtis (saliva was exchanged even though his lips were nowhere near mine) but first- a quick review of what I returned home to.

First of: The Banana recaps the weekend for her teacher with this writing assignment:


For those of you who can't get the gist from the skillfully rendered graphic, it says I THROWED UP TWO TIMES. Yes, I returned to find that a plague had descended upon the House of Veasey. ComplicatedBoy and Sexyhusbandomine also had bugs. But (despite the fact that someone threw up IN THE AISLE of my plane ride to Atlanta)... Not Me. The whole "Fat Fights Viruses" thang is still working for me. Take two cookies and call me in the morning.

And you know what else came down with something and appears to have died in Chez Veasey? MY FRIDGE. Because the warranty was for two years. And at two years, two months, it Just Stopped Working. It was actually warmer in my crisper yesterday than it was outside. So we have been living out of a cooler. Which is no fun because Sexyhusbandomine keeps telling me I can't chill the chardonnay because The Spawn need things like milk and orange juice.

So tomorrow Wednesday I'll try to have a story or two for you. In the meantime, 5 random numbers are:
1,6,8,12,14. Those are the winners of the great buttons from Beanforest. You must email me (LVMUD (at) a o l) within two days to claim your fabulous prize. Get off you button and do it now.

CoMe See Me & TONY CURTIS In HOTLANTA

I am about to schlep my post holiday weight gain onto an airplane and head out to Atlanta for the Big Gift Show. COME SEE ME & MY NEW HOLLYWOOD FRIEND! Enesco (our owners) will be launching a new giftware line called the Trail of Painted Ponies, and legendary actor Tony Curtis will be on hand to show off his life size painted pony on Friday night, January 8th, from 6-8 PM, Americasmart Building #2 Suite 1616. You will find me in the OUR NAME IS MUD booth, where I will be standing trying to avoid eye contact with everyone and where I will have cleverly hidden numerous plastic cups of wine throughout the display. Come say hello, and let me say something completely inappropriate in response! I promise you that you can walk away saying "she looks so much younger and skinnier on her blog."

I have made Mr. Curtis a mug that says "Mr. Curtis likes it Hot," Because I am a total kiss ass like that because Mr. Curtis was in the movie with Marilyn Monroe entitled SOME LIKE IT HOT. And because Mr. Curtis' daughter is Jamie Lee Curtis, who is married to Christopher Guest of SPINAL TAP fame. I'm thinking perhaps Jamie & Chris will come over to Tony's for coffee some day, and Chris will reach into his Father in Law's cabinet and wrap his hand around my creation and turn it over to see who made this wonderful thing, and then he will have an idea to make an insanely funny mockumentary about Mommy Bloggers. Or Potters. Either could be a hysterical premise and I should get a cameo and the same sort of deal Erin Brockovich got. Which would have been a plausible scenerio except: I FORGOT TO SIGN THE MUG.

(So chickens, I will regale you with tales of hobnobbing with the famous when I return on Monday- which means you still have time to enter the giveaway below as I won't announce winners until Monday. Comment on the post below)

A SWiFT KiCK iN THe BuTToNS

Happy Wednesday Chickens! Today, I wanted to share one of my favorite artists on the interwebs with you. He describes himself as " a guy in his mid-twenties born, raised, and terrified of economic collapse in West Michigan." I think he is one of the funniest people I've never had the pleasure to meet. His shop is called BEANFOREST and he creates the most wonderful buttons and magnets. Like this one:


I am going to show you some of my favorites..then GUESS WHAT? You get to pick your own favorite-and FIVE lucky ONIB readers will win the button of their choice! You can enter as many times as you would like- one comment per entry. Just visit Beanforest's store and describe your favorite in comments. Winners will be drawn at random on Friday, January 8. So enter now: Life's short-the day is young and the hijinks are endless!








P.S. If you are not a personal fan of buttons, you can enter someone else in the giveaway. For example, I know this one is perfect for BJ, and it is the perfect accessory to wear when picking up her child from school, or serving jury duty.



Happy Playing Chickens!

MaGiC

Happy New Year Chickens! I hope you all had a joyous holiday season, and that Santa brought you everything you asked for.

Ordinarily at this time of year, I do a brief product review of the presents The Spawn received from Saint Nick. I know this saved 1 or 2 hundreds of you good people from the fate of buying The Bathtub Bubble Blizzard last year. But this year had some unforseen challenges....

First of all- ComplicatedBoy's letter to Santa is as follows:


He writes; "My 3 most importet things are a portal to the North Pole, mostly all my gifts on my list (you can chose) last but not lest is that every kid in the world wold beleve in you."

So obviously, we had our work cut out for us-- as last time we checked at Target, they WERE ALL OUT OF PORTALS TO THE NORTH POLE.

So of course, we checked online.

First, we hit Etsy, in the hopes that we could buy handmade. Our first find was this:


For just $22 from a shop called BWARE this is a MAGIC KEY MOBILE. Could be very helpful, especially if you were planning on breaking into an office and stealing incriminating political evidence...but we were not. What good is a magic key if you can't find the magic portal? We searched again. And found this...



A MAGIC PURPLE SABER WAND, which combines a love of Star Wars with a belief in the occult, at a shop called ORDERED CHAOS for a mere $20 bucks. But we feared that when we waved it, we might end up on The Death Star instead of Santa's workshop, so we turned to EBAY.

Where we found THIS A MAGIC FORK for only $1000. So precious that you can't even steal an image of it.
Ah rats, out of our price range.

Therefore, as 3Lambsgraphics says... we need to just


ComplicatedBoy got a letter from Santa that said The Portal to the North Pole lay in his heart and in his imagination. Which was fine for CBoy, since what he had really wanted was some legos anyway.