gift giving is an art form

When my sis (PJM) gives a gift, a laugh is usually followed. Over the years I’ve acquired, His and Hers pillow cases courtesy of Ebay (she was outbid on the Clay Aiken pillow case – I’m not kidding), and a box of crap found around her house (I think PJM emptied her entire junk drawer and mailed it’s contents to me).

One of my favorites will always be my Anna doll….

While getting the mail today I found this

Now that is another classic PJM gift!

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Cute Overload Warning

I don’t follow the panda stories whenever they’re on the news, not sure what the huge fascination with them is, if I’m gonna waste my time it’s on awfulplasticsurgery.com. That web-site is where my warped interests lie.

However, my friend wiserbud sent me these pictures and the mom in me just melted. I cannot express to you how flippin adorable these little babies are. If I didn’t think they’d slice me in two with their claws if I got near them, I would bite their thighs like I do my 2 year old’s.

You’d think I’d put the cutest one up first to make you really want to stay and see more, but that’s not how I roll. I’m cool like that. Well, that and I’m too lazy to take the pictures out of numerical order and then remember what number it was and then go throught the effort to make sure I don’t accidentally repost it again because I wasn’t paying attention. And in addition, I would be all itchy and uncomfortable because they were out of numerical order, you know, stuff like that. Continue reading

I met PJM’s Doc…should we be concerned?

After Watching This Video, I Don’t Think I Can Ever Eat Another Vegetable Again

Warrior Diet be damned. This is just inhumane. I’m just going to have to put an extra shot of vodka in my bloody marys now to assuage my guilt.

 
Stolen from a comment thread on Ace’s

bitchface and kare-kare, but mostly kare-kare cuz she’s the real bitchface

There’s a cockroach by my bedroom door

Interesting, it wasn’t there before

Giggles from another room

I wait, revenge won’t come too soon

I knock at the offender’s door

In goes the cockroach, much to her horror

The scope of my sister’s revenge I did not know

Until in my room, 1000 ladybugs did show

Those muther-effers bite

ladybugs

Revenge, While Rare And Pathetic, Makes Me Incredibly Happy

My younger sister kare-kare by fare-fare and I never really hung out much when we were younger. We have almost a 5 year age difference between us and didn’t have a lot in common. I think we started to bond after we’d both became mothers and could share our extreme annoyances regarding our children with each other.

Kare-kare had been drinking with her hubby one fine evening and invited me to come over and play. She and I challenged each other to a drinking contest, but there was twist. She and I had both instructed her husband privately to put only water in our own shot glasses and vodka in the other’s. We both wanted to win this contest and watch smugly as the other sister puked her guts out later. We might even be nice enough to hold the others hair to avoid any chunkage. Yeah, right.

The whole evening I’m thinking kare-kare’s getting more and more plastered as she downs her shots of vodka, while I easily pound my “vodka” and she’s thinking the same of me.

Yeah, well apparently someone had been drinking long before I showed up because even after pounding shots of water for about a 1/2 hour, kare-kare passed out anyways.

The only time I can exact any sort of revenge on her is if she’s stone cold passed out. I went to work.

I wanted to put “Eat Me”, but yes, I felt that would be too mean. She doesn’t know this is on her face when the picture was taken.

I Am Bitchface

My sister gave me a nickname when we were young. Bitchface. Yep, that’s me I am bitchface. My younger sister who was always funnier, prettier, blonder and more self assured than me could always get the best of me.

It’s ok, I have always been bigger than her. When she was beating me at “The Mental Olympics”, I would just turn around and punch her, game over, I win.

The best of times were when our collective evil was beamed on others, but alas, being sisters it was more often than not, directed at each other.

There was always some sort of prank being pulled, or sometimes we were just plain mean to each other. Like the time I ditched Mass, I waited till my sister exited the church and asked her who the priest was and what the Homily (the sermon the priest gives) was about. I picked up my bulletin from the back of the church, this was my ticket stub to prove I was actually there, it was my vallidation. I drove home.

So there I sat at the dinner table, not only telling my parents the unsolicited information about the Mass, but embellishing the details. The oh-so-flowery details of how much I loved this particular priest and how wonderful his sermon was.

My dad was hanging on every word. He was nodding his head in what I was certain was absolute agreement because as I found out, he’d been at that Mass too. Oh man, I was doing good. He was really interested in what I was saying.

I couldn’t quite understand the smirk on his face, but eh, whatever, if you’re good, you’re good right?

Did I forget  to mention my sister lied to me about everything? About who the priest was and what the sermon was about?  My parents let me dig and dig and then went in for the kill. Yep, that was a fun night.

Oh and I’m bitchface? She’s lucky she lives clear across the country because remembering this makes me want to punch her.