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Kelly Melang, writer, business owner, avid fitness freak.  If you're not living on the edge then you're taking up too much space!

Tuesday, December 27, 2016

WTF - New Year Resolutions

Can you believe it's been a year since I didn't become the better person I was supposed to be?

I've always thought New Year Resolutions were for suckers, people who want pressure and drama in their life.

Here's how New Year Resolutions are Stressful:
You stand there looking at the Oreo package, only three cookies left, but didn't say you were eating healthy this year. What do you do?

Justify emptying the package because it is taking too much room in the pantry?
Figure you'll put your resolution of eating healthy on the kids, eating the cookies so they are not tempted.
Ditch the resolution and dip those babies into cold milk until they practically fall apart, achieving your resolution of finding happiness with each delicious bite.

A friend forwarded me an article by WEBMD on "How to make resolutions that stick."

First of all, WEBMD? Really, I can't go to that website without coming out with Stage IV Rectal, abdominal, combinational cataract cancer! But I did take a moment, reading the article, thinking, "Hey, I could do this." Here is the list:

8. Think about last year. No wait, don't think about last year, you'll either give up resolutions completely as you make your way to the Confessional or your day is shot as you remember, "Oh ha! Who's decision was it to swim naked there?" Thinking about last year could get you in trouble.

9.  Write it down. The article says nothing gets done without writing it down, I'm still up with Think about last year and writing down everything for blackmail, or that autobiography bestseller "What happens on the mountain, stays on the mountain." I could be rich either way!

8. Don't try to do it all in January. Unless it is drinking, what a great resolution to see if you can go through all those Christmas presents in one month.

7.  Go from Baby Steps to Big Goals. You don't have to purchase the Magnum of Wine just yet, start with a bottle and feel good about yourself.

6.  Get a little help from your friends.  Especially that pesky resolution of Drinking More. Tell your friends it is water, pull out the magnum when they appear!

5.  Identify Time Wasters - seriously who needs kids bothering you when you're trying to surf the internet or binge watch Vikings. Get rid of those time wasters!

4.  Sometimes a year is not enough. Just do what I do Jan 2nd, ditch that resolution because hey, we all knew you weren't going to keep it anyway. Unless it was the Drink More!

Here's a few resolutions that are keepers:

I will exercise more, don't send a text to someone in the other room, yell louder!
I will throw out the hair in the drain of the tub immediately and not build up a slimy wad!
I will not treat the dog like a vacuum, not ALL the time.
I will not eat medicine because it tastes like candy.
I will not drink and order online, I'm still trying to figure out my Shake Weight.
I will not take a sleeping pill and laxative at the same time. (Don't ask)

So there ya have it, a great way of making 2017 a successful year!

Cheers!



Wednesday, December 21, 2016

Merry Christmas from the Melang Family

Happy Holidays! I'd love to say I'm saving the Earth one piece of paper at a time and not doing cards this year, but honestly, I just forgot about it.

So here's our Christmas newsletter, electronic edition:
We are doing great! Especially this snow season as we have snow on the ground for Christmas break! Remember last year, the year of "skiing the patch?" This time last year we were hiking Profile Trail of Grandfather and not on the slopes. Any day on the snow is a good day.

Wolfgang is coming into his own with Watauga High School and I am thrilled. He now has his core group of friends and seems over his shyness. How do I know?

He asked a girl to Homecoming, and went.
He went from "get me out of here" to "Can you pick me up late, we're hanging out."
He stayed for all football games, and now the basketball games

Most of all,
He and two friends decided to go shirtless singing a country version of "Santa Baby."

So with all the doubting myself, I am breathing a sigh of relief as he is now living the high school life, something he couldn't do if we were still commuting every weekend for time on the mountain. We've found our home.

Max is enjoying Valle Crucis Middle School, and all the awkward things that go with being a pre-teen. He participated in the Color Run, and has a core group of 5 friends, good boys who really enjoy each other.  Max is getting straight A's in school in addition to being moved a grade ahead in Math for this year. Definitely didn't get the Math gene from me!

I took several jobs this year.

I became a yogi, teaching classes for visitors this summer at Elk River Club, then continuing my teaching and practice with locals with Beech Mountain Club. I absolutely love this, especially when I sit at home with a glass of wine watching yoga videos, planning my classes (did I just say that?) My practice is getting better, my flexibility along with it, I'm even moving into the intermediate poses and pulling my winter friends class with me. I can honestly say yoga has helped me breath literally and figuratively, I don't know what I would do without practicing at least 3 times a week. Right now we are enjoying the "Lion's Breath" pose. Look it up, it's pretty cool.

I took a job as Administrator for Beech Mountain Academy, a non profit helping children become something bigger than themselves by joining a team. We have two divisions, Alpine Racing (gated racing Giant Slalom etc) and Freestyle Ski and Snowboard.  There is nothing better than coaches who are proud helping their kids achieve their goals and watching how these kids gel together. Both teams are an awesome representation of Beech Mountain and I'm humbled being part of this process.

My writing is going well, I'm enjoying the phrase, "If I don't write it, I will do it," phrase when people read some of my short stories, looking up with a "WHAT?" I've finished editing a Contemporary Romance and plan on releasing it through Medium.com in January. One more pass through! Since you're here on my blog, you're in the right place, I'll post the links on all my social media sites as well as here!

Jeff's work is going well, two big things of interest. If you see the new "Most Interesting Man in the World" (Dos Equis) commercial, looking the helicopter in the background. Jeff setup that deal, getting that helicopter to Tampa for a big Dos Equis promotion. Honestly, to me Jeff is the most interesting man in the world.

Jeff received his Aircraft Appraisal Certification this year, helping sellers and buyers determine the correct price for their aircraft. One of his cool appraisals was finding the correct value of the original AirForce One, Eisenhower's plane sitting for years in the airplane graveyard. This airplane  almost collided with another airplane in mid air, creating the VIN number system we use today, determining aircraft by a number rather than make and model.  If you want to see something cool, visit the airplane graveyard in the desert by clicking here.

Shawnee the dog got attacked by two dogs last Thanksgiving and is vibrant today, our pocketbook not so after the $2400 vet bill.

Both boys had a great mountain biking season except for Max breaking his arm in the last race of the season. He crashed at the finish line and asked with a bent arm, "I crossed the finish line, right? What was my time?" His next question at the ER after learning it was broken was, "This is great, I'll be ready to go for snowboard season, right? 6 weeks!" Wolf's last race was riding for a local bike shop, Magic Cycles, he was thrilled to ride their gear wearing their colors.

So where are we now? Sitting in front of a fire, with a glass of wine arguing about whether we should watch A Christmas Story, Christmas Vacation or Elf! Here's to our electronic hug coming through your computer wishing you a very merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.

Much Love, the Melang Family



Oh and did I mention this?

Yeah, this.

Wednesday, December 14, 2016

WTF - Are You Happy To See Me?

Warning: If you are easily offended, pass on this one. Otherwise party on.

Would you like Dark or Milk Chocolate?

Every year we have a Naughty or Nice party in our mountain community, two things make this one unique:

Everyone is naughty, not a single nice gift.
The Median age of our group is older than me. (and I'm not telling my age, just old)

So I only get to visit Night Secrets, our local Fantasy Store once a year (seriously, I'm not kidding) for this party. Today was the day as I heard weather was coming in and I may not make it back to Boone tomorrow my last day before the party.

I'll start with a lift conversation between my sweet innocent husband and a good friend.

"What are you getting for the Naughty or Nice Party?"
He paused for a second, "A big Chocolate D*ck."
Our friends pauses for a very long time, we're worried we offended him, responds, "I could take a bite of that. Dark Chocolate or Milk Chocolate?"
Usually what happens on the lift, stays on the life, but I didn't name names right?

Back to me HAVING to get this gift, how do I do it with a child in the car?

"Where are you going?"
"I'm going into the AT&T store."
"Why? You have Verizon."
"I'm getting an accessory for a phone and they are the only one that has it."
"Is it for me for Christmas?"
"Possibly."
"Oh, OK."

Once safely inside, my car parked prominently in front of the AT&T store, I start down one aisle.

Thought Process:
How could some of these items come in so many different sizes and colors?
What is THAT for?
Oh my God.
That's hilarious, oh, they are serious about it.
5 DD batteries? Are we powering the revolution?
Maybe if I turn it upside down....OOOHHHH!

I pick out my gift bringing them up to the counter, the girl looking at my beet red face then down at my purchases.

"Would you like me to open this one and put batteries in it seeing if it works?"

(Oh, shit) "Um yes, that's good idea."

"You'll need 2 AA batteries for this guy, do you need batteries?"

"Uh no, I have kids." (Crap! Did I just say that? What is she thinking? Why is she smiling at me?)

She puts the batteries in, turns it on, we both stand there watching it for what seems a long period of time.

"Looks like it works like a champ," she says.

"Yep, someone's gonna be happy," I reply (Did I just say that?)

She takes the batteries back out and we both sigh as she puts it back in the box going back to ringing up my other purchases. Just as she's completing the purchase, I stop her,

"Wait do you have any chocolate d*cks?"

"Of course, they are over there by the vaginas."

Of course they are.

Merry Christmas the naughty way, what would you bring to a Naughty or Nice party?


Thursday, December 8, 2016

WTF - Twelve Days of Christmas

On the First Day of Christmas my teenager gave to me
A Learner's Permit from the DMV

On the second day of Christmas my teenager gave to me
two heart attacks
and a Lerner's Permit from the DMV

On the third day of Christmas my teenager gave to me
three stall outs
two heart attacks
and a Learner's Permit from the DMV

On the fourth day of Christmas ,my teenager gave to me
Four squealing tires
three stall outs
two heart attacks
and a Learner's Permit from the DMV

On the fifth day of Christmas my teenager gave to me
Five CLOSE CALLS!
Four squealing tires
three stall outs
two heart attacks
and a Learner's Permit from the DMV

On the sixth day of Christmas my teenager gave to me
Six wrong ways!
5 CLOSE CALLS
4 Squealing tires
3 stall outs
2 Heart Attacks
and a Learner's Permit from the DMV!

On the Seventh day of Christmas I got from m
7 forgotten seat belts
6 wrongs ways
5 CLOSE CALLS
4 Squealing tires
3 stall outs
2 Heart Attacks
and a Learner's Permit from the DMV!

On the Eighth day of Christmas I got from my Teenager,
8 yells for speeding
7 forgotten seat belts
6 wrongs ways
5 CLOSE CALLS
4 Squealing tires
3 stall outs
2 Heart Attacks
and a Learner's Permit from the DMV!

On the Ninth Day of Christmas I got from my Teenager
9 blind spots missed
8 yells for speeding
7 forgotten seat belts
6 wrongs ways
5 CLOSE CALLS
4 Squealing tires
3 stall outs
2 Heart Attacks
and a Learner's Permit from the DMV!

On the Tenth Day of Christmas my teenager gave to me
10 curbs jumped
9 blind spots missed
8 yells for speeding
7 forgotten seat belts
6 wrongs ways
5 CLOSE CALLS
4 Squealing tires
3 stall outs
2 Heart Attacks
and a Learner's Permit from the DMV!

On the Eleventh Day of the Christmas my teenager gave to me
11 missed turn signals
10 curbs jumped
9 blind spots missed
8 yells for speeding
7 forgotten seat belts
6 wrongs ways
5 CLOSE CALLS
4 Squealing tires
3 stall outs
2 Heart Attacks
and a Learner's Permit from the DMV!

On the Twelfth Day of Christmas my teenager gave to me
12 grey hairs
11 missed turn signals
10 curbs jumped
9 blind spots missed
8 yells for speeding
7 forgotten seat belts
6 wrongs ways
5 CLOSE CALLS
4 Squealing tires
3 stall outs
2 Heart Attacks
and a Learner's Permit from the DMV!

Sunday, December 4, 2016

WTF - Do you Fraser Fur?

The picture in the head is never like the actual reality is it?

This year we went on our yearly excursion for THE perfect Christmas tree. Little disclaimer to start, my husband it not the best with it comes to crowds, kids and campiness.

Enter the SugarPlum Fairy Christmas Tree Farm. (Go there, they said, you'll love it)

We pull in and are met by a very nice lady,

"Take Blitzen Way down to Comet Road then make a sharp on Snowflake circle, you can park there."

My husband looks at me, "Is that some kind of code?"

Of course he takes the wrong way through Frosty's Garden one of the guys yelling at us while pointing to Snowflake Circle.

The hubby is always the man with a plan, this time it's my turn with the plan! "We take the hayride up to the trees, pick a tree, cut it down and we're good to go!" I say excited.

He looks at his watch, "So what, fifteen minutes?"

I walk around Sugar Plum Village, into Christmas Corner and return back to the hubby with his hands on his hips, "You're late we missed the Sugar Plum Express."

Trying not to laugh, I say, "What?"

"The hayride, the hayride already left, see?" He points to the disappearing wagon. "You went past the North Pole, we are supposed to wait here. Now we have to wait for the next SugarPlum Express."

"Let me take your picture, stick your head in the snowman." Was that a smile?

We make the second hayride, and it circles all around the farm the hubby saying, "Are we back on Snowflake Lane AGAIN, we were just there. We keep circling the trees, tell them to stop and let us off!"

"Oh honey, just enjoy the experience," I say as we finally stop at the trees.

A very nice man in a Carhart suit hands my husband a saw, he looks at it with a "Do what?" I'm handed a white pole. "This is to help you measure your tree." It comes out like, "Thas is here to hep ya murshure yur traigh."

We start up in the trees, Matthew starts with a 75 footer, "This one's perfect!" Max of course goes for the Charlie Brown tree, "I want this one." The hubby picks the first one in front of him, "This is it, I'm cutting it down."

I stop everyone, "WAIT! This is supposed to be a great experience, look at all these trees! We have to find the PERFECT one!"

All three of them sigh, follow me as I look at every tree, five minutes of looking at trees, they all yell, "I love it! It is perfect!" when I pause in front of any tree even a dead one.

I hear one of them saying, "We should have brought water and snacks, this is gonna take forever."

Finally, they can't take it anymore and make me pick a tree. The Hubby holds out the saw to the kids pointing to halfway down the tree!

"Wait a minute!  Go lower, you're leaving part of the tree!"

"Did you see the price list? It's cheaper if it's shorter! Let's cut here." Before I can argue they are sawing away. The kids each take two swipes loose interest, giving the saw to the hubby running off into the forest. He saws, takes off his jacket cause he's getting hot, continues, then asks, "Don't you want to experience this Christmas memory? My heart is racing."

Me, "Naw, your life insurance is up to date, you can do it."

We finally get the tree down, he walks next to another Dad in the farm, pulling our tree saying, "Jeez we have to do all the work AND pay for the tree!" The other Dad sighs, "I know!" Finally we take it down to Blizzard circle for tagging, my husband moaning that cutting down a tree is harder than it looks! The same guy in the Carhart says, "Why did you cut the tree down? We have chain saws?" My hubby looks at me like he's thinking of using the saw, again.

Making it back to Sugarplum Village as the hubby was not waiting on the Express again, we wander until a nice lady says, "Oh, you pay for your tree in Santa's Workshop." In Santa's workshop the nice lady informs us we have to pickup the tree, put it on our car in Blizzard Circle before we come and pay for it. Moving the truck out of Blitzen parking we get stuck again in Snowflake circle finally finding Blizzard and our tree! Riding back down Rudolph lane we are back in Santa's workshop, the hubby looking at me as they charge his credit card, "See, we saved 20 bucks cutting where we did."  "But we left a bush behind," I whisper.

Before exiting out of Santa's House of course you have to go by Santa. I'm all excited, moving to sit on Santa's lap. Poor Santa looks at my big butt and happily pats a chair next to him, "Tell me what you want for Christmas!"

We get lost on the way out, going around Snowflake Circle for the last time before finding the checkout. A very nice lady hands us a free coffee mug saying, "Come back and visit us next year!" sounding like, "Cahum baak aund visuht us nahxt year!"

Finally rolling down Rudolph Lane and exiting the Sugar Plum Christmas Farm I give my hubby the best gift for helping me make a memory!

"Let's go over to Blind Squirrel Brewery for lunch and a BEER!"

Even though our reality was different than what I pictured we still had a blast! Oh wait, I think I'm just saying that for myself!

How do you navigate Christmas tree farms?

WTF - Do you Fraser Fur?

The picture in the head is never like the actual reality is it?

This year we went on our yearly excursion for THE perfect Christmas tree. Little disclaimer to start, my husband it not the best with it comes to crowds, kids and campiness.

Enter the SugarPlum Fairy Christmas Tree Farm. (Go there, they said, you'll love it)

We pull in and are met by a very nice lady,

"Take Blitzen Way down to Comet Road then make a sharp on Snowflake circle, you can park there."

My husband looks at me, "Is that some kind of code?"

Of course he takes the wrong way through Frosty's Garden one of the guys yelling at us while pointing to Snowflake Circle.

The hubby is always the man with a plan, this time it's my turn with the plan! "We take the hayride up to the trees, pick a tree, cut it down and we're good to go!" I say excited.

He looks at his watch, "So what, fifteen minutes?"

I walk around Sugar Plum Village, into Christmas Corner and return back to the hubby with his hands on his hips, "You're late we missed the Sugar Plum Express."

Trying not to laugh, I say, "What?"

"The hayride, the hayride already left, see?" He points to the disappearing wagon. "You went past the North Pole, we are supposed to wait here. Now we have to wait for the next SugarPlum Express."

"Let me take your picture, stick your head in the snowman." Was that a smile?

We make the second hayride, and it circles all around the farm the hubby saying, "Are we back on Snowflake Lane AGAIN, we were just there. We keep circling the trees, tell them to stop and let us off!"

"Oh honey, just enjoy the experience," I say as we finally stop at the trees.

A very nice man in a Carhart suit hands my husband a saw, he looks at it with a "Do what?" I'm handed a white pole. "This is to help you measure your tree." It comes out like, "Thas is here to hep ya murshure yur traigh."

We start up in the trees, Matthew starts with a 75 footer, "This one's perfect!" Max of course goes for the Charlie Brown tree, "I want this one." The hubby picks the first one in front of him, "This is it, I'm cutting it down."

I stop everyone, "WAIT! This is supposed to be a great experience, look at all these trees! We have to find the PERFECT one!"

All three of them sigh, follow me as I look at every tree, five minutes of looking at trees, they all yell, "I love it! It is perfect!" when I pause in front of any tree even a dead one.

I hear one of them saying, "We should have brought water and snacks, this is gonna take forever."

Finally, they can't take it anymore and make me pick a tree. The Hubby holds out the saw to the kids pointing to halfway down the tree!

"Wait a minute!  Go lower, you're leaving part of the tree!"

"Did you see the price list? It's cheaper if it's shorter! Let's cut here." Before I can argue they are sawing away. The kids each take two swipes loose interest, giving the saw to the hubby running off into the forest. He saws, takes off his jacket cause he's getting hot, continues, then asks, "Don't you want to experience this Christmas memory? My heart is racing."

Me, "Naw, your life insurance is up to date, you can do it."

We finally get the tree down, he walks next to another Dad in the farm, pulling our tree saying, "Jeez we have to do all the work AND pay for the tree!" The other Dad sighs, "I know!" Finally we take it down to Blizzard circle for tagging, my husband moaning that cutting down a tree is harder than it looks! The same guy in the Carhart says, "Why did you cut the tree down? We have chain saws?" My hubby looks at me like he's thinking of using the saw, again.

Making it back to Sugarplum Village as the hubby was not waiting on the Express again, we wander until a nice lady says, "Oh, you pay for your tree in Santa's Workshop." In Santa's workshop the nice lady informs us we have to pickup the tree, put it on our car in Blizzard Circle before we come and pay for it. Moving the truck out of Blitzen parking we get stuck again in Snowflake circle finally finding Blizzard and our tree! Riding back down Rudolph lane we are back in Santa's workshop, the hubby looking at me as they charge his credit card, "See, we saved 20 bucks cutting where we did."  "But we left a bush behind," I whisper.

Before exiting out of Santa's House of course you have to go by Santa. I'm all excited, moving to sit on Santa's lap. Poor Santa looks at my big butt and happily pats a chair next to him, "Tell me what you want for Christmas!"

We get lost on the way out, going around Snowflake Circle for the last time before finding the checkout. A very nice lady hands us a free coffee mug saying, "Come back and visit us next year!" sounding like, "Cahum baak aund visuht us nahxt year!"

Finally rolling down Rudolph Lane and exiting the Sugar Plum Christmas Farm I give my hubby the best gift for helping me make a memory!

"Let's go over to Blind Squirrel Brewery for lunch and a BEER!"

Even though our reality was different than what I pictured we still had a blast! Oh wait, I think I'm just saying that for myself!

How do you navigate Christmas tree farms?

Thursday, November 24, 2016

WTF - I'm F*cking Thankful


Oh spare me, it's that time of year where everyone is thankful for this, grateful for that, inspired by whatever. Oh wait, I'm supposed to ride the tide of thankfulness.

So, yeah, I am thankful for:

My Hubby - I am thankful that he simply shakes his head as I test the Darwin theory on a regular basis. I am grateful he usually is by my side on most of those shenanigans.

Sports Bras - when you have tats like mine you gotta hold those puppies in so you don't get a black eye on a run or brisk walk! I am grateful that I went from wearing 6 bras to one expensive but worth the price feeling like a steel tank around those puppies.

Boxed Wine - I am thankful for boxed wine because it lasts longer than those bottles. I am grateful for boxed wine at the dinner party because we start with a nice bottle then disintegrate to the box because no one will notice the difference thus saving money.

Pepper Spray - I am thankful for my pepper spray on dogs sniffing a little too close to my assets. I am grateful for the pepper spray helping separate the boys in a fight. (Did I just say that?)

Urban Dictionary - I am grateful for Urban Dictionary helping me keep up with my kids in the coolness factor. I am grateful when sometimes I'll put in a word and it comes back with, "Do you want the safe definition or the REAL definition." I just wish a few of those definitions I could un-see.

Friends - I am thankful for my crazy assed friends happily going along with completely deplorable shenanigans. I am grateful they keep secrets as well as I do.

Books - I am grateful for the books I write because if I don't write it, I will do it. I am thankful for the books I read helping me realize most authors are just as crazy as me.

Yoga pants - need I say more.

Cell Phone - I am thankful for my cell phone as my personal secretary, telling me when someone is calling, taking a message when I'm too lazy to answer the phone. I am grateful no one had cell phones when I was a kid otherwise I'd be a YouTube sensation. (Go ahead and google my husband's latest YouTube video)

My Kids - I am grateful for my children, especially that they are still alive today after all the stupid shit they've done. I am thankful after all the stupid shit I'VE done, they're still alive.

Finally, I am thankful for this thing called life and grateful for all the amazing people sharing it with me!

What are you thankful for?




Wednesday, November 16, 2016

WTF - Can't we all get along?

So much vitriol, especially on the Internet, I thought I would share with you how I win a political argument when it comes to social media.

It starts with something coming across my newsfeed, something crazy!

I'm not even mentioning what side, but I sit and read this wondering:
How did they come up with this?
This can't be real, I need to re read it.
Shit, it's for real!
Don't they see how wrong they are?
How could they post this shit to Facebook?

Of course I have to read the comments, because once someone flame throws on Facebook the comments get very interesting.

I'm getting more riled up as I read the comments.


I must type my own comment, I must state my opinion.

So I start typing,

typing fast.

Getting mad as I continue down my line of reasoning so different from theirs!

I stop, reread my comment wondering "I should run for office, this makes so much sense!"

I take my comment and move it to a document for grammar check, the last thing I need is someone calling me out on my grammar and not my amazing views!

Everything looks good, I move back to adding my two cents, knowing this will change everyone's view on my brilliantly worded post.

My finger hovers over enter, I pause.

Re read what I wrote, it is so spot on, it could change the world.

Then I realize I am on Facebook, what am I thinking? I'd have to hire a brain surgeon to change their mind.

Delete everything I just wrote and move on.

Winning!

Wednesday, November 9, 2016

WTF - Warning Labels


Have you ever wondered how we all survived childhood? How your children survived childhood? Especially when there are so many secrets.

When my children were small, I wished most of the toys in the toy store came with the following warning labels.

Packaging is designed so only smart strong people can get to this toy.

Loud as Shit.

You'll never figure it out. Engineering degree required for assembly.

 Please have a drink before attempting assembly.

Buy stock in AA batteries.

Doesn't have a volume option.

He'll beat his brother up with it.

Just go ahead and buy one per child.

We've hidden the "off" switch.

Yes, there is one extra part.

You'll have nightmares about it.

Don't ever step on it.

Becomes a nasty stinky mess after the first use.

Just take it from them now.


Now as teenagers, their Christmas list has changed, but I need these warnings:

You'll hate it.  Honestly, after 15 minutes you'll hate it.

It's too expensive for him to lose it after a day.

Don't buy me, just buy the gift card.

Put the parental safety controls on now.

It will never have enough space.

He'll never figure it out.

Put me back, you don't understand cool.

You'll need a drink before you see him wear it.

He'll beat his brother up with it.

You need to let him pick it out, especially if you can't return it.

Just take it from them now.

Luckily I survived childhood because sometimes ignorance is bliss. Maybe they've hidden those secret warnings in the plastic packaging you can never open!

What warnings would you add to some toys for children or teenagers?




Monday, October 31, 2016

WTF - Yea? But did you cry?

How can you not love Halloween?

The one day where you can let all cleaning skills go stating that "Dust and Cobwebs are decorations!"

You get to dress up.

You get to scare people.

Typical Halloween conversation at our house, two days before the event:

Did you buy enough blood?
Of course, I have plenty of blood. The problem is we may not have enough horror flesh.
Oh OK, then I'll use the bloody scab instead and save the horror flesh for you.
You are the best!

If anyone stopped by the house the day of Halloween they'd hear:

Hold still, the blood is going everywhere!
Let me pick that scab off of you, it needs to look bloodier.
Ewww, these guts are sticking to my fingers!

The boys and I have the best intentions: Scare people in the neighborhood haunted house!

So we dress up, we go over and we do our best!

I'm the opening act, so that requires quite a bit of screaming, lots of yelling and of course my signature sequence:

"I have two potions, one is a good potion, one is a bad potion. Which will you choose?"

The sadistic part of me loves when they choose the bad potion because, the good one smells like flowers the "bad" one a few sprays of my "Instant Smelly Shit" spray.  So not only do I scare them but I get to enjoy their reactions when they choose the "bad" potion!

The boys are zombies in the graveyard and they take their part very seriously. So seriously that they come in saying, "So the guy that runs the place says we have to scare according to his rules, do we have to?"
"What are his rules?"
"Don't freak out the little kids."
I think about it, "Yeah that sounds about right. The adults and teenagers, go for it!"

We spend 3 hours with spaghetti noodles, Instant Smelly Shit, Barf Spray, Jello and of course, treats.

We stop periodically for "Fix my flesh Mom, add some more scab to it."
"I need more blood, I'm too pale."
""Mom, I lost my teeth!  Where are my teeth!"

The end of the night we are laughing about all the people we scared, everyone telling different stories. The best line of the evening was:

"Well, I made two little kids cry, did you make anyone cry?"

It was a good night, a dark and stormy and very good night. Cobwebs and dust included.

Segway post about Karma. Sure I love scaring all the little kids with the Smelly Shit so I get it back when my son decides he wants to see what it smells like and spills it on himself in the car on the ride back.

Sunday, October 23, 2016

WTF - Woods Of Terror, they said. It Will Be Fun They Said......

Do you know what scares a Mom?

Haunted Trails are like childbirth to me. The getting there is the fun part, but then you remember how much you hate certain parts, right?

This year it was 5 teenagers, one car and a two hour drive from Beech Mountain, NC.

Why do I drive two hours? Because out of all the trails we haunt, Woods of Terror is one of the favorites!

First problem, How do I feed 5 children and not break the bank?

I don't save money on separate meals, I buy the catering size when it comes to teenagers! The look on their faces was classic as I handed back 64 chicken nuggets, large tub of sauce, and a gallon of sweet tea with 5 glasses.  "We will never eat all of that," one whispered.

Fifteen minutes later.

Gone.

The fun part? Watching them save the mega tray sitting on the console every time I made a turn. "Save the NUGS!!" was the cry.


My second hint is plan a weekday and early evening for two reasons:  Don't miss the Monster Parade at dusk, where every monster from the haunt marches out behind a coffin car and the owner wearing an yellow snake. Oh, and getting their early means you don't pay the extra per person Fast Pass fee, effectively saving me enough money covering the tray of "nugs" and the tea!


We brought two Woods of Terror virgins with us, teenagers acting like they don't get scared until the song IronMan started. I don't care how many times you come to Woods of Terror, that song starting the parade will always get your heart racing. The monsters coming through then completes the process as one of the two virgins looked at me like, "What have I gotten myself into?"

"They can't touch you, right?" He asked watching a woman walk by with blood dripping out of her mouth.


"Yep," I say, laughing watching her sneak up to him, screaming in his face as he turned back to the parade


"They don't need to touch you to scare you," I say.

In order to survive, here's a few hints:

Go for it, scream your little heart out, believe me, it makes it more fun!
Aim for the middle of the pack, the front gets the first scare, and the back is always followed.
Get used to the sound of chainsaws.
Invite someone really tall or with red hair, they'll get all the attention from the monsters as you pass safely.
If you are under 40 wear a spare mini pad (girls and boys) over 40 think about Depends.
Don't be that guy pointing out what's next, this is the perfect way of getting ditched.
Dress to run - that little girl in the high heeled shoes, well, they ate her for lunch. 
If you get scared, push someone else at the monster. In my case it was the kids pushing me.
Inevitably you WILL end up in front. I don't know how this happens, but it happens.

I spent the hour through Woods of Terror laughing (OK, with a few screams in between) because not much scares me anymore. I've lived through dirty diapers, temper tantrums, science experiments and now,

now,

PUBERTY!  (Insert scream of terror here!)

Woods of Terror, the perfect way to scare the kids, and Moms, if you are looking for a fun night and no voice the next day, this is the place for you.

Don't forget your Depends.


Saturday, October 22, 2016

WTF - Adult or Adultish?

How can you survive having kids without being a little Adultish?

If you've never heard of the word Adultish then stop right, I'm not responsible for corrupting you.

If you are the mother that loves those "community events" that miraculously schedule themselves in taverns with other like minded mothers then read on.

Where's the fine line between being responsible or someone calling child services on you?


Adultish is loving your kids, but giving them some freedom usually enough that you feel that twinge of guilt easily taken care of by a nice glass of red wine.

Adultish is being an adult, but not being a REAL adult, get it?

There are some benefits to being Adultish:

You get the best videos on your camera.

The adult in us sees the bad ending to many of our children, yet the Adultish in us sees many great stories and quite possibly that viral video that could make us all rich.

I tell my children not to do something. They sneak behind my back convinced that my advice "you'll get hurt" isn't real.  Now I am sure Darwin may be at work here, but not my child, so I'm quiet until I hear the squeal. Do I comfort first? No.  I say, "What did I tell you?"

Better yet, sometimes I'm filming.

Being Adultish means any decision is good decision because you are the Adult.

"Tonight's the night of Breakfast for dinner!" Plates of Egos and Pop Tarts all around!

Sure you can tell them you're beat and don't feel like cooking but with enough Adultish authority, they'll all cheer Breakfast for Dinner idea!

Being Adultish means you are allowed to give yourself a break.

Sure you've got a long list of things to do, which all eek of responsibility.

Then your non adult friends inform you they are heading to the pub to solve the problems of the world.

Just for one.

Time to take one for saving Humanity.

Adultish saves you money.

Adults only Gluten Free, Organic, From Friendly Farms, Without Any Preservatives, Lightly Massaged Cereal or Chicken or Meat or even Produce.

Their kids are used to the taste of cardboard.

Adultish justifies that box of Pumpkin Spice doughnuts because, well, because, ummm, because......

It was ON SALE!

Most of all Adultish lets you not take yourself so seriously, laugh at the different lessons you've learned (not fails) especially that idea of putting a tissue box of ping pong balls around your waist, then trying to empty the box by gyrating as hard as you can.

What? You haven't tried that party game?

Well then you must be an adult, not a REAL adult.

Monday, October 17, 2016

WTF - Thank You Social Media For Giving Me Patience

Is it good or bad that Social Media has helped us old folk with our patience?

Waiting has taken on a whole new meaning with Social Media. Kids, social media gives you an extra buffer when parents are waiting on you!

Pulling into the parking lot of High School waiting on my child, normally I'd be frustrated 36 seconds into it because my attention is finding him.

However, a totally new routine gives him extra time as I pull out my phone:

Check text messages, anything important? If not, send a few random things to people.

Check through Facebook, purposely reading through the newsfeed before taking the time checking my own notifications because that is the way you do it. Your notifications are like dessert, "Someone LIKED me" so go through all the mundane stuff then move to dessert last.

Of course, my son isn't here so I'll stalk a few people I'm interested in, lurking away quietly.

Do I send a text message to him saying, "I am waiting on you in the parking lot, come on!"

No, I move over to Instagram, looking through pictures before looking at who liked my picture, (just like the Facebook notifications, dessert last) because it is not all about MY ego, it's about the artwork.

I'll then look through what my Instagram friends like possibly following something if it looks interesting.

I'm not done yet. Perhaps I go back to Facebook because I'm sure within the 3 minutes of Instagram I could miss something there.

Move over to my blog, I check how many people read my post (that's it???) Look through friends blogs, making a few comments. (Why don't people comment on blogs?)

Finally, the finishing with my favorite, SnapChat because I feel this is a direct connection to people and that is important! Take a random picture for my MyStory because my life is that exciting.

When all is said and done, I look up aggravated, "What is that boy doing over there, doesn't he know I am waiting?"

So teenagers, now that your parents are on Social Media, you know you have a good 24 and a half minutes before they really start looking for you! If you haven't introduced Mom to SnapChat, add that because you'll but another 5 minutes of talking with your friends in the carpool with that one!

Has your patience increased in the DMV, the grocery store, the bathroom because your phone keeps you company?

Have you become a raving maniac waiting in line WITHOUT your phone? ("what am I supposed to do, I need to LIKE something")

Tell me Social Media does not have the redeeming quality of giving you more patience?

Friday, October 14, 2016

WTF - Do I Have To Be An Adult Today?

It's decision time, to adult or to adultish today?

This morning everything would be different, I'm going to be an adult and be responsible.

Right?  Right!

I consult the list I wrote (the night before with a glass of wine) of everything I need to do to be a responsible adult.  Gosh, I don't remember writing down that recipe for dinner, that looks pretty hard?

But today is ADULT DAY! Hooray!

I resolve not to yell as the kids get ready for school, tackling the first chore - putting the laundry in the washer so it's ready for the dryer when I come back from carpool.

I'm congratulating myself. I made healthy lunches AND the washer is going at full speed as we leave.

This adulting is going pretty well.

I'm multitasking.

I move from dropping them off at school to the next thing on my list.  Groceries.

I don't feel like going to the grocery store right now, I'll just do it later.

No, I must be an adult, I must go to the store right now. This is how I prioritized my list, less gas.

But I'm out of coffee, I need more coffee to get through the grocery store.

Wait, there's more coffee at home, that's what I'll do, I'll get coffee then I'll go to the store later.

Mountain folk at this point know I am doomed, I went back up the mountain, it will take a Zombie Apocalypse to get me back down. But that's another story!

The wash is done as I enter the house.

OK, the wash, yep, I'm still an adult. I got this.

My list says BATHROOM!!  I look over to the bathroom then back to the coffee maker.

This adulting thing is exhausting, I'm gonna just take a little break and check Facebook.

20 minutes later I feel a little guilty, I really need to get to the next thing on my list.

Oh is that puppies playing in a bathtub?  Hold on a minute.

My washer reminds with an irritated ding that it's waiting.

Oh yeah, the wash, I'm adulting today, I think marveling at the number of yoga pants I've worn this week. Second load of wash in the washer.

I give myself another break because I have crossed off 4 things from my to do list. Need to start adulting with baby steps, don't want to ruin the whole thing in one day.

I could just do the groceries tomorrow morning right after carpool, that way I don't have to leave the mountain early, (See the whole mountain thing, I'll have to write more about this.) This gives me time for coffee.

But what about that crazy dinner I planned for tonight?

Did I tell anyone I was making it? I can't remember, I'll just play dumb. Spaghetti it is, I think the sauce is organic.

So another cup of coffee because I know I'll need more caffeine to adult the rest of this day.

I mean, I've pretty damn good.

Oh look, there's a cute video of babies laughing.

Crap! Time to get the kids from school, where did the day go?

These jeans are digging into my stomach like a Caesarean Section, let me put on my yoga pants before leaving, at least they are clean.

Tomorrow I'll be much better at adulting, I'll hit the grocery store first!

The next morning, I'm rolling out of school drop off congratulating myself for being an adult, being on time two days in a row!

Groceries. A big frown hits my face. I think we can survive one more night without food. There's a cup of milk left in the gallon if I water it down I can get two more bowls of cereal out of it tomorrow morning!  I've got this adulting thing!

Back home for the steaming cup of coffee, this time I'll bypass Facebook and get right to my to-so list!

Yeah, right!

What is that I smell?  Oh, the laundry. Oh well, time to run it again.

What chore has made you question your adulting for the day?  Comment below!


Tuesday, October 11, 2016

WTF - The History of Candy Corn In A Cornhusk

Pausing, with the handful halfway to my mouth, I look at my children.

"What? Do I have to share?"

"Because there isn't enough."

Who doesn't love candy corn? That sugary confection defining FALL! Like most items that go from your mouth straight to your hips many have that love hate relationship with this candy. I thought I'd help you fall in love with it again with a few interesting facts!

Did you know Candy Corn was originally called "chicken feed?" There is no real inventor of the recipe, just oral tradition until it was picked up by the Goelitz Confection Company and marketed as Chicken Feed. I guess low sales made the change to a more appetizing name Candy Corn!

The Goelitz Confectionary Company also makes another addictive candy! They changed their name to Jelly Belly so technically they've been making candy corn since the 1880's. That's a lot of sugar!

 What exactly is in Candy Corn you ask?

Sugar, of course!

Candy Corn's basic recipe is Sugar, sugary corn syrup, carnauba wax and water, mixed with Fondant for texture and Marshmallows for the soft bite. The mixture is dyed different colors then poured into molds on a three pass process. The original labor process used large vats with workers pouring the different colored mixtures three different times, that's a lot of lifting. Now they have machines that mix the sugar concoction before pouring it into the molds.

Based on the success of Candy Corn, companies went on to make Candy Pumpkins (way too much sugar for me) and Candy Turnips (Oh how appetizing!)

If you are staring at the bag, like me, remember, eating 19 pieces of Candy Corn is the sugar equivalent of drinking one can of Coke. Your hips and teeth will thank me later.

But who only stops at 19 pieces when there is a WHOLE bag?

In a recent survey, Candy Corn is one of the most hated confections of Halloween. Brach's begs to differ, selling between 9 billion and 15 billion kernels of the stuff yearly. That's what's keeping dentists in business because someone obviously likes this stuff.

If you need a reason to eat Candy Corn without feeling guilty, the day before Halloween is National Candy Corn Day, I'm pretty sure it doesn't have any calories on that day.

Just when everyone sighs in relief putting the Candy Corn away for another year, Candy Companies have now come up with Reindeer Corn, Cupid Corn, and of course, Rabbit Corn!  You're welcome.

Finally, kids don't read this part. If you're needing some fresh cash, you can always bite off the white part of the Candy Corn, tell your parents you lost a tooth, place it under your pillow. Apparently the tooth fairy has a sweet tooth because this worked for me when I was a kid, oh, and last week also!

The weather's turning cooler, change in the air, the leaves are falling. Go ahead, take that handful of Candy Corn, it is a fall rite after all. Just make sure you share!

Where do you stand? TeamCandyCorn or TeamReeseCup?


Friday, October 7, 2016

WTF - It Sure Was Different Then

"You'll go blind." I heard them say once to my older brother, because I, being a nice Catholic girl, would never even think of it!

I laugh now because when I was a kid, my only foray into something diabolical was finding a Playboy magazine in my brother's bedroom, now with the computer and the Internet accidentally typing in "Pretty Pus" instead of "Pretty Pic" can land you in therapy for a few years.

How did my brother get those Playboys? In a diabolical kind of way.

Enter the neighbor, who looked very neighborly, but unbeknownst to us had a secret stash of Playboy magazines! And said neighbor, and this is the writer taking a little poetic license here, got caught by his wife on said Playboy magazines and was coerced to throwing them away. (Hell, he could have run out of storage in his basement or found the boxes saying, "Where the hell did this come from, I'd better throw them away before Sylvia finds them!")

So all the magazines go into their garbage cans, and since it is Thursday, all garbage cans go out to the curb the night before.

Seriously, I think God has a sense of humor because a beautiful calm sunny night turned into a Squall of a morning, blustery winds, driving rain and did I say blustery winds?

Said blustery winds decided that knocking over the trash can full of Playboy magazines was a must, spreading them all over our Catholic neighborhood, my mother waking to a full frontal nude picture as she opened the front door for the morning paper.

I remember her stomping through the house muttering, "Those lousy no good, I knew there was something wrong, not the stuff for children, all over the neighborhood, half is in my yard they are going to think they are mine!"

She walks out into the tempest, black trench coat (my father's) big bucket hat on her head, goulashes on her feet, walking up and down the street with a trash can picking up the "filth" that has strewn all over to the neighborhood during the night. She is extra careful cleaning up our yard because you can't get "Yard of the Month" if there's a picture of a naked lady draped across your holly bush.

All magazines, miscellaneous pictures, and even a few pieces of trash end up in our garbage, set out again, with lids secured, for the garbage man.

Coming into the house, her deed is done, the neighborhood clean, and starts making breakfast. We all want details about what happened causing commotion in the house but are silenced with an empty bowl, a cereal box, a jug of milk and a "It's none of your business."

My brother, the oldest, the more mature, gets wind of what's happened from my mother's mannerisms and the way she refers to the garbage as, "I cannot wait for the trash men to come by and take care of those Playboy magazines."

Playboy? Did someone say Playboy?

He's not hungry for breakfast, quickly putting on his cub scout hat, jacket and sneaking out the downstairs door as my sisters make barricades with cereal boxes so they don't have to look at me as we eat breakfast.

What is he doing?

I run out in the rain checking on my brother, because that is what the middle sister does.

"What are you doing?" I yell as the rain pelts down.

"Grab these, take them into the garage," he yells over the howling winds.

I grab a stack full of paper from him running into the garage, putting it on the floor, before running out for two more stacks of paper. I don't know what they are, they are important to my brother therefore since this may put me in good grace with him and his friends, I'll do whatever he says.

The stacks of paper move from the floor of the garage to a corner, covered with a blanket as we hear, "Get walking, you'll miss the bus!"

Later that afternoon, in the underground fort we built in the woods behind our house, my brother, his friends and I (my little sister was "too young for this") contemplate his booty.

Wow, I've never seen women like this, cringing as women,  stuck together from the rain, rip in half as the boys try turning pages. All of the magazines are littering the floor of the fort, hidden from parent view. I get kicked out in the very beginning because "I am a girl" and given so many threats "if I tell" that I am convinced I'd end up in a prison colony in Madagascar for squealing.

Those magazines stayed in that fort for a little while, I am sure my brother and his friends enjoying all the "great articles." That is until two of the boys got into a fight inside the fort, one kicking dirt into the face of another and during that fight the support of the underground fort collapsed sending boys out coughing and magazines into their shallow grave.

Unless someone got out their goulashes and a shovel and decided perhaps they were worth saving.

Luckily, I didn't hear of any of my brother's friends going blind, so maybe the magazines stayed where they are.

Wednesday, October 5, 2016

WTF - Overheard At The Doctors

Wait a minute, is that a tickle in my throat? No, it feels like a sore throat. Let me go check WebMD

Could I have strep throat? Is it contagious?

 My quick visit to a Minute Clinic for antibiotics should be uneventful, right?

Wrong.

Sometimes you can't make this shit up, seriously.

Two women sitting in the far corner, I figure they are the safe spot because most of the other people in the clinic are wearing white masks which scares the hell out of me. I mean I could be contagious with strep throat, but what the hell do they have. I take a spot next to them.

Let's just call them 1 and 2, 1 being the person who is sick.

2: "You've got to fill out this paperwork", she says looking at the clipboard.

1. "I can't fill it out because my hand hurts from falling off the 4 wheeler, can you?" She holds up a perfectly good hand.

2:  "Sure, OK, do you have insurance?" She is looking up from the clipboard, pen poised.

1: "Of course I do, I'm on (insert what you will here, TenCare, Medicaid, Medicare, Uncle Cecil's Company policy)"

2: "Good, because it may take longer if you don't have insurance," she replies looking down.

(What may take longer? less paper work, or paying the bill because believe me, I've been there.)

2: "There's a space here for what's wrong with you. It says, what are your symptoms? Your hand hurts right?"

1: Nodding, "Yes, my hand hurts, I've got chills, a headache and white spots down there."

(At this point I have to physically control my head from swiveling over to the two of them with a "WHAT?")

2.  Looking up from the clipboard, "Do what?"  (Honey, I am right there with you.)

1: She points down to the seat of her chair, "You know, down there, the hootchie."

2:  Looking up from the clipboard, "You want me to write that down? You have white spots there, wait a minute, how do you know you have white spots in your hootchie?"

(My question exactly, the last time I checked it was pretty damn difficult looking down there.)

1:  Looking at her friend like she was crazy, "Because I have a picture of them." (Said in the tone that implied it should be followed by a "you dumb ass.")

2:  She is looking at her friend, "You have a picture of what?" (I'm in hook line and sinker, as a writer I gotta see how this story ends.)

1:  Another sigh, "I don't have the picture Carl took it with his phone."

(Another pause for me. Carl? Who is Carl? And where is his phone? And what is he going to do with the picture?)

2:  She nods, she must know Carl, he must be trustworthy with a picture of #1's crotch, "Oh OK, have Carl text you the picture in case the doc needs to see it." (This is making total sense to me.)

1:  Looking at her phone, "Do you think they'll write me a note, I'm gonna be late to my shift at Taco Johns." (Of course.)

2: Signing #1's name to all the paperwork, "Sure that's what doctors do, they give you medicine and write you notes."  (They forgot the "they send you bills" but maybe their insurance isn't like my insurance.)

Folks, seriously, you can't make this shit up.  Darwin is definitely at work here.

Monday, October 3, 2016

WTF - Where's The F*cking Manual

Guys, I think I need to break up with a few appliances. Cue Bad Romance right here.

New Appliances remind me of bad romances.

Start off all shiny and new, you are excited seeing them every day.

Then you fall into a routine, and when you see them you sigh.

Then they become the has been, looking like a used whore in the kitchen with old lipstick, rust in a few places, the novelty worn off as they take up space.

It started with the Mixer making an appearance in the house.

But wait, who needs a stand up mixer when you have a hand mixer, right?

We all oohed and ahhed over the appliance as it basked in the glory of newness.

"You just wait," said the dishwasher, the broken handle duct taped.

"They'll forget about you too," said the apple peeler from the back of the bottom cabinet.

"You give them everything then they betray you with something new," said the Parmesan Cheese shredder.

"At least I'm still considered useful," said the refrigerator.

Romances need a lot of communication, key to making things last.

Want to know the reason we break up with new appliances so easily?

I pull everything out of the box, I put it together winging it along figuring, this fits here, so obviously it goes there.

Holding one extra piece, I start looking for a manual.

Finally, I find it, looking at a few pictures on what the mixer should look like,

My mixer doesn't look anything like the pictures.

I must have screwed something up, going back to the piece of paper, I turn it over.

"For instruction manual, visit our website."

Translated, this mean, "We don't want to kill trees for something you'll lose anyway, so either Google that shit or go to our website."

I look back to the mixer, "I can figure this out, I'm pretty smart."

And that is why the mixer sat on the counter, moving quicker than the dishwasher or apple peeler from new shiny fun romance to "has been" in the matter of a week.

But wait, this romance has a happy ending!

The hubby, not a rocket scientist but pretty close, asked, "How's the mixer working out, are you making bread yet?"

I look at it, "We're separated right now, I can't figure it out."

He does the right thing, looks at it, Googles that shit and has it all together!  "Why not give it a try?"

I look at the mixer, wondering why I wanted to dump it, it's so shiny and new!

"Yeah, let's give this relationship another try," I say pulling out flour.

"Not fair," says the dishwasher, "All I need is a screw in my handle."

"At least they see you, I'm hidden so far in the back of the cabinet, they'll find me again when they move," says the apple peeler.

"I'm just going to sit here and cry," wails the Parmesan grater.

"At least I am still useful," sighs the refrigerator and I reach in for butter.

Saturday, October 1, 2016

WTF - Uh Oh, He's walking toward me!

Oh no, he's coming toward me!

Living in a small community means rules are slightly different. We've already learned how quickly word travels around this town, pleasantly surprised when the trash truck stops and asks if you need help when you're stopped in the 20 yard area on the mountain where you actually get a signal.

Small town means small get togethers meaning rewriting the etiquette when it comes to a party.

On this mountain we have what's called "Touchers," "Kissers" and "Huggers.


No I am not talking about the National Pedophile database, I'm talking about the way we great each other at get togethers. Knowing everyone in your inner circle means you should remember what
 to expect.

The "Toucher" simply touches your shoulder. We call them "drive bys" the makes you think they are buying you another drink,  30 minutes later you realize it was a goodbye.

The Kisser is the person that leans forward like the Toucher, but always includes some type of kiss - juicy, dry, peck or "was that tongue?" type of kiss.  You have to be careful about the Kisser, know whether they are a right or left kisser because if you aim for the wrong side you'll end up with a little French action you didn't anticipate.

The Hugger is the most benign, a quick hug. Where the Hugger gets complicated is when the hug lasts a little too long, what is deemed inappropriate? Sure, I know the hug with the hands on your ass is considered inappropriate or if they snap your bra in the process. Remember huggers sometimes need that reminder, from a slight pull away to a kick in the balls to, LET GO."

So I'm at a local establishment, enjoying a tasty beverage and some live music when I spy him from across the room. He already smiling at me moving through the crowd,  I try to remember, is he a "Kisser" "Hugger" or just a "Shoulder?"

I'm thinking Fran Tarkenton would be a good announcer for this move........

"Well Chris looks like he's planning a running move. He's fading back before charging forward. He cleared several blockers, a quick spin move to the right and Chris, he may break free.  Yes, he's free his arms are coming up. Look she's dropping back anticipating the pass!. She's looking a little awkward, her arms are shoulder height, is she in Hug Mode, or blocking him with a Touch Mode? Ohhhh, contact is made!

A combination of Kiss and Hug!

Gentleman I think he's close to the finish line. No! She backed off and moved to just Touch Mode. Chris, I think we'll need instant replay to see if any illegal contact was made."

So when invited to the small intimate party on the mountain keep a cue card in your pocket listing names and types.

Never underestimate the audacity of a Kisser and never ever, lose sight of the Hugger.

Coming up, Huggers, Kissers and Touchers are totally different animals when it comes to the extra padding of ski clothes!

Wednesday, September 28, 2016

WTF - Timber, There Goes My Manhood


I'm lost in Walmart and can't get out!

Since when have we created an entire aisle in Walmart dedicated to "manly" beauty products.


Can you smell them? Who wants to smell manly?

Men?

Entire collections of shampoo with names marketers thought sounded manly.

ManlyMan
Manful
YouHaveBalls
NotYourWifes


Some product names making sense, like
Hydrate for Men
Odor Guard

Others, I'm not so sure:
Whatever Messy - I thought pomade made your hair non messy?
Phoenix - Is this made in Phoenix?
Dark Temptation - what does this mean? Will you be tempted to use too much body spray?

Packed full of scent, when we open the bottle the scent of manliness makes all of us want to hitch our pants, add a straw of wheat between our teeth and go ride a bucking bronco.

There's men's shampoo, conditioner, body wash, face wash and yes, lotion.

What happened to the unscented bar of soap?

"What's this in our shower?" The hubby asks walking out of the bathroom holding up a red bottle.
"Oh that's your body wash," I reply not looking up.
"My body wash? Timber? What happened to a good old bar of soap?"

The boys explain, "Dad it is a Man's Wash, see it says FOR MEN."
He looked at the bottle, "Since when do I shower in Timber, what does that mean?"

"Oh they come up with different scents, we like this one," the younger child replies.

I look up from my book, "Believe me, I spent 20 minutes in Walmart smelling all the different scents before they finally agreed to Timber over the Wolftorn and Hawthorne."

The youngest continues his explanation, "They have different combinations, this one smells good with the shampoo and conditioner."

"Shampoo and Conditioner?" He asks looking over at me.

"Yes, we bought the Antarctic Shampoo and the Timber Conditioner, so you smell good." The child replies like my hubby needed this education.

He shakes his head, "All I need is a bar of soap for my body and my hair, I don't need all this fancy stuff."

"Don't forget your cologne when you are done," they yell after him as he disappears into the shower.

"Over my dead man bag," he replies.

He has decided face lotion is a possibility because well, when you get older there are quite a few more lines and he read face lotion hides a few of them.  Since I haven't bought a "manly" face lotion for him yet, he's stuck with mine.

"Is this the one?" He asks holding up a generic looking white bottle.

"No, that's for your hands," I reply.

"But it says lotion," he asks looking at the bottle.

"Yes, it is lotion, but it is HAND lotion. This one is your full body lotion," I say.

"So use that one?" He asks.

"No this is full body lotion, but don't use it on your face, here is the face lotion. See, it says FACE on it," I hand him the bottle.

He shakes his head, "Maybe we need a Timber version of face lotion, so I'll know what bottle to use."