پاکستان میں Mostbet com ویب سائٹ ملاحظہ کریں، اور آپ یقینی طور پر کھیلوں پر شرط لگانے یا آن لائن کیسینو میں کھیلنے کے لیے یہاں واپس آنا چاہیں گے۔ کھیلوں کے شائقین کو ایونٹس کے ایک بڑے انتخاب، مختلف پروموشنز اور بونسز، مفت بیٹس، مفت گھماؤ اور زیادہ مشکلات تک رسائی حاصل ہے۔ اور کھیل کو مزید آسان بنانے کے لیے، ہم نے ایک موبائل ایپلیکیشن تیار کی ہے جسے آپ آسانی سے اپنے فون پر انسٹال کر سکتے ہیں۔

The Weekend in Crappy Pics

Friday was my fifth and final day volunteering at a kid’s summer camp. All the proceeds go to charity, so I’m pretty sure my karma is back on the rise after the whole chef heart attack incident last month.

It was also Ana’s fifth day of wearing this dress:

Look at the shame.

She still bathes, she even changes her underwear, but then she shimmies her body into that same damn dirty dress! Brian’s just happy she’s over last week’s obsession…remember the “clown outfit”?

On Satuday, I walked into the kitchen and saw this on my counter top:

The hamster’s exercise ball.

I then had the following exchange with Brian:

 

Me: Why is the hamster’s ball on the counter top?

Brian: I had to wash it out because he peed and pooped in it.

Me: You didn’t use the kitchen sponge, did you?

Brian: Nope.

Brian:………..

Brian: But the soap would have killed any germs on the sponge anyway.

Me: Did you use the kitchen sponge?

Brian: Nope

Brian:………..

Brian: It’s time to throw that sponge out anyway.

Me: Did you use the kitchen sponge?

Brian: Nope.

Me: You didn’t use the dishtowel to dry it, did you?

Brian: Nope.

Brian:………..

Brian: But why would that matter? The ball was clean at that point anyway.

Me: Did you use the dishtowel to dry it?

Brian: Nope.

 

I got rid of the sponge and the dishtowel.

 

We also went to two birthday parties on Saturday, my wonderful mother-in-law’s and my good friend’s, but I decided not to write about them. I think we can all agree that that’s an awesome gift right there. Honestly, anytime I’ve said to somebody “By the way, you’re in my blog post today!” I get a strange look, it’s like a cross between “Oh shit.” and “Why do you hate me so much?”

 

On Sunday, we pretty much did absolutely nothing all morning. Even Mr. Bojangles slept in.

As Brian and I were laying across the bed, he said to me, “Every other family is out in the world, doing something exciting today. We’re not very active people.”

I knew exactly where this was coming from and I was disgusted! “Have you been comparing your life with people posting on Facebook…again?”

He slowly nodded.

“Ugh. Listen up, Brian. If you have 500 Facebook friends, and 10 of those friends say they’re going horseback riding with their families, 8 of them are posting pictures while on vacation, and 3 are trekking through the Andes in Peru with just enough cell phone coverage to brag about it, how many friends does that leave you with?”

“Can you repeat that?”

“The answer is a shitload. A shitload of friends are probably just laying across their beds like us, feeling like lazy pieces of shit. All better now?”

I didn’t stay to hear his answer, I went running because he’s right, we’re not active enough.

Tip: Run on dreary days, in the middle of nowhere, alone. Just thinking there could be a murderer waiting around the corner will raise your heart rate, thereby, creating more of a calorie burn.

I’m just learning to run, and so far I’ve been doing it on the treadmill, and treadmills have these handy-dandy things called shelves. So as I was running free-range style, I began to wonder what people do with their keys, water bottle, towel, phone, lipstick, and money (in case I literally run across a yard sale). I did the only thing I could think of:

I lifted up my boobs and stored everything underneath, like a saggy hatchback. Before kids, these puppies weren’t capable of securing anything more than a ballpoint pen and some bus change. sigh.

How was your weekend?

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The Weekend in Crappy Pics!

We started off the weekend with a Friday night rave…for 4 year olds.

 

In the middle of this music blaring, black-light, moon bounce, birthday party, I received the following phone call from my son:

 

Collin: Hey mom, I have a question. Wait…why’s it so loud?

Me: SPEAK UP! WHAT?

Collin: I HAVE A QUESTION. CAN WE ADOPT ANOTHER DOG? THE PAPER SAYS IT’S AN ASIAN POODLE WITH ASIAN RELATED PROBLEMS.

Me: AN ASIAN POODLE WITH ASIAN RELATED PROBLEMS? WHAT ARE ASIAN RELATED PROBLEMS? (other mothers are now looking at me.)

Collin: I’M NOT SURE. BUT GRANDMOM THINKS IT MEANS IT POOPS A LOT. AND HERE’S THE BEST PART…IT’S FREE! CAN WE ADOPT IT, PLEASE?

Me: NO!

Collin: WHY NOT?

Me: *end call*

 

Music blaring, blinded by strobe lights, and my son screaming, “Can we adopt an Asian poodle with Asian related problems?”

I’ve never tried LSD but I imagine it’s a lot like those 2 minutes.

*Turns out, it was an aging poodle with aging related problems. Well, that makes more sense.

 

On Saturday, I had my hair highlighted:

 

and Brian said, “It doesn’t look like your natural color.” Trust me, I’d be pissed if I spent $100 and it did.

Then, after rotating the couch cushions, we spent the rest of the rainy day sitting on the couch, eating, and trying to ignore this:

Sunday was our 12 year wedding anniversary! My mom and dad offered to babysit so that Brian and I could enjoy a romantic dinner together at a nearby marina. But first, everyone had to get ready.

I applied whore-y eye makeup for the occasion, as I’ve forgotten how to do romantic.

And Ana…well Ana’s going through a clothing phase at the moment. She’ll pick 1 dress and wear it day after day until I pull it from her screaming, crying body and throw it in the wash. It’s not so bad when she clings to a cute dress, it actually saves us time…but then there’s this:

When we dropped her off, my dad asked, “Did she jump a clown for that outfit?”

Later that night, while the kids were in bed, Brian brought the fire pit onto the deck.

Let me ask you this- Did something ever happen, making you question all the decisions that led you to that moment? And did you think about how you’d explain those decisions to the Fire Marshall when he arrived?

A fire on our wooden deck, next to our cedar house with cedar roof, was not our best idea. But besides the occasional flare ups, it was pretty relaxing and a great way to end our anniversary. We’ll probably do it again tonight.

How was your weekend?

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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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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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