The Weekend in Crappy Pics.

On Friday, Mr. Bojangles reminded me that all kinds of assholes use toilet paper.

 

On Saturday, my in-laws asked if we’d like the kids to sleep over at their house…as in, they made it an actual question. Bahahaha!

Brian said, “Let us talk it over” just so we didn’t seem desperate, knowing that if we pounced, they might run. But then we called back 30 seconds later to say “yes”. We couldn’t risk them changing their minds.

After slowing the car down to drop them off, we went to this wonderful organic farm-to-table restaurant. The place was absolutely gorgeous, the food was local, and the menu…

Us: “We’ll have the Noah’s Ark special, please.”

Waiter: “What’s that?”

Us: “Two of everything.”

And this was dessert….

I wanted to lick those glasses so badly.

On Sunday, I spent the majority of the day getting ready for Camp Cheapo!!!! That’s right folks, tomorrow kicks off season 2 of the cheapest summer camp ever! I will entertain neighborhood children all week with poorly organized activities, sub-par materials, and questionable decision making skills. And if there’s any educational value whatsoever, it’ll be by sheer coincidence.

Since Spring, I’ve been thinking about doing something really special and totally awesome for this year’s campers. Here’s my text to the parents:

And they know, that I know, that they all have deep Jacuzzi tubs, because we have the same builder. No getting out of this one.

However, when trying to procure the duck eggs this weekend, I found out some disappointing information.

1. Baby ducks imprint. Meaning that when they hatch, they’ll think the first person they see is their mother, and forever depend on that person as such. And since the only time I fly south is on US Air, I’m not really a good duck role model.

2. It apparently violates my neighborhood’s deed restrictions. Well, la dee da.

So I cancelled my egg pick-up and made a “Dunk Bucket” instead. It’s my cheapo version of a dunking booth. It’s no baby duck, but I hope the kids like it.

Wish me luck tomorrow.

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Free Advice Friday – Nursemaid or Nurse Slave to your kids?

Dear Kim,

Please help! Recently, my son had dental work. Therefore, it was “liquid, to soft, to regular diet as tolerated”. Well, after Day 1 he developed strep throat sooo it was back to liquids or whatever I could get him to eat. I was literally spoon feeding him chocolate ice cream! His temp was 103.4. Poor baby! Right?!?!

Well, Kim, now the fever has broken..thank goodness!! However it’s Day 5 and he still wants ME to help him eat, he says he cannot eat solids because it hurts?!?!

Help!
Nursemaid in Nebraska

PS. He is 6 years old!!

 

 

Dear Nursemaid,

Answer me this…is he at least wiping his own ass?

So your little darling insists that you hand feed him like he’s a baby bird. Well lucky for you, I happen to have second-hand experience with such matters, and second-experience is almost always better than third-hand experience.

Nursemaid, when I was in 7th grade I had this friend named Karen. I really liked Karen and her large family, until the day they took me on a 5 hour bike ride, uphill, in the middle of July, because that was their stupid idea of family fun. “What’s wrong with bowling?” I asked. Sadly, when 8th grade started, we were no longer friends. Turns out, 20 miles of sweating and sticking to a plastic banana seat is my friendship tipping point. Who knew?

Anyway, one Spring afternoon, Karen’s sister found a baby bird laying in the middle of their yard. She quickly brought it in and convinced her entire family that they had to raise it and teach it to fly. Like bats out of hell, they all hopped on their ten speeds and rode to the neighboring town library- which was about 10 miles away. Freaks. At dusk, they returned home with 50 million books, including, “Raising Wild Animals!” by Ura Phool and “Regurgitating for Dummies” by Ima Bryd.

For weeks, they hand fed that baby bird ridiculous milkshakes made from peanut butter, chicken (which still doesn’t seem right to me), and jelly beans. I think the books they borrowed from the library were being used to hold open a door or something.

One day, a neighbor told them that they had to start giving the bird real food, food that he would normally eat in the wild. Otherwise, there’s no way he’d survive on his own as an adult. And so they did.

That bird ate those crappy seeds and nuts, only because it’s all that was offered. But he was PISSED! And everyone knew he was pissed because he started doing mean stuff like, shitting on their lawn chairs, biting them at meal time, and hoarding things in his nest. He hoarded strange things too, things like small pool toys, hair accessories, acorns, and Kotex pantyliners which were often stuck to his furry brown tail. Now that I think about it…he might have been a flying squirrel.

Yes, he was definitely a flying squirrel.

Nursemaid, bird or flying squirrel, my advice is the same:

1. Remove all of his favorite liquid and soft foods from the house.

2. Purchase all of his favorite solid foods.

3. Offer to *regurgitate them.

*I’m told that regurgitating on demand is difficult, not to mention hell on your esophagus. Instead, simply chew up his food then spit it out on his plate for consumption.

By following the above steps, I have no doubt that his throat will start to feel better almost immediately!

 

Sincerely sorry for you,

Kim

 

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Cheapo Wino Review Wednesday! A Cabernet (yes, again) from Argentina.

 

Cruz Alta Mendoza Reserve Cabernet Sauvignon 2012 – $11.99

 

Winemaker’s Notes: “Deep ruby red color. Complex aromas with cassias, mature red fruit and coffee from the oak. Rich and long lasting on the palate, its tannin texture provides a smooth and pleasant finish.”

 

Kim’s Notes: “I think I might maybe like it?”

I have to admit, I originally gave Brian shit for picking this up as I really don’t care for French wines. Yeah, yeah, I know, it’s from Argentina- but notice that the label says it was aged in French Oak. And to me, French Oak tastes like my Baby Hathaway doll smelled on Christmas morning 1976. THAT, my friends, is a problem.

As usual (and as recommended), I had my first glass on an empty stomach. I found it to be well balanced, with a nice texture and pleasantly plump body – not unlike myself. And surprisingly, I didn’t detect the plastic diaper smell I was dreading. No Baby Hathaway here. But I was a little disappointed that I didn’t taste any oak – momma loves her oak (just not French). I think this wine is a lot like a Pinot Noir…maybe…who knows.

Brian tried it and said, “I think it’s a little winey”. Whatever that means.

Then I said, “You’re a little winey…a little whiney bitch!”

Then he took my slice of pizza and licked it. Then I threw up in my mouth.

Surprisingly, I still found the Cruz Alta pretty good. It wasn’t heavy, but it had some character and weight. Not unlike my throw up.

However, after eating some Ben & Jerry’s Ice Cream, things went south. The wine started to taste tangy and a little sour. Strange.

Now here I am, all confused and with mixed feelings. But for $11.99, I think I’ll give it another shot and report back.

 

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The Weekend in Crappy Pics

Remember my Tip for Tuesday?

Show your dog who’s Alpha by making him carry his own poop bag on your next walk!

Well, let’s just say that Mr. Bojangles is having some adjustment issues. Friday, after I took “The Shit Bag” (trademark pending) off of his collar, he walked into the middle of the street and plopped down.

I’m thinking this is the human equivalent of laying your body across some train tracks. Don’t worry, I crinkled a wrapper and he came running- though he was not amused to find out it was a tampon wrapper.

 

Friday evening, I used child labor to juice my limes. Shut up…maybe these were used for refreshing & organic ice pops and NOT margaritas. You don’t know.

 

As a thank you for all of her hard work, I bought her one of those “As Seen on TV” ice cream makers.

This is how that went:

 

 

No! Don’t give up now!

 

 

An “As Seen on TV” sucker enjoying her milkshake.

 

And look what arrived for me on Saturday! I guess my Cheapo Wino Reviews found their way to the PR department for Billy the Artist, so they sent me this free wine bottle holder for review! LOVE IT!

And it was just in time for the Saturday night event held at my local wine vineyard! And by “event” I mean me sitting on my ass, drinking wine, and listening to music- the opposite of eventful.

All of my friends ooh-ed and ahh-ed over it, plus it stood out so no one could “accidentally” wander off with my wine, thinking it was theirs. Vineyard people are sneaky bastards.

Want one? Check out the wine bags, plus all of his other gorgeous accessories here.

Oh, and this couple annoyed me just for trying too hard…

I bet they had real silverware, a candelabra, and a cheese wheel in that basket. Golly, I sound bitchy…

 

On Sunday, I gave our 3-legged dog a haircut. Afterwards, knowing my qualifications as a dog groomer (none) and my knack for humiliating my pets (PhD level, my friends. “P” to the “h” to the “D”), he quickly ran under the kitchen table and refused to come out.

Family comments like “What have you done?!” and “Wow, now his missing leg won’t be the first thing people talk about.” didn’t help.

As you can see here, he insisted on having his dinner delivered.

And after enough procrastination, I got down to making my Beaver Baby orders (my parents are so proud).

Then on Sunday night…get this…Mr. Bojangles stole 5 (Five, 1-2-3-4-5, cinco, 5.0) hot dogs from the counter! I heard Brian scream and saw Bo run out onto the deck with a hot dog hanging out of his mouth. Sadly, I missed the photo opp because I was enjoying a margarita w/ freshly squeezed lime juice. Shut up…I might have juiced them myself. You don’t know.

When Brian left this morning, he made me promise I’d follow Bo around, waiting for the inevitable diarrhea. And he was no joke, I had to swear with one hand on my heart and the other on my favorite bottle of wine. So I have my day planned. How was your weekend?

 

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