Regular Guys are Sexy

In old news, Adam Levine has been named the “sexiest man alive” by People Magazine.    Because I have nothing better to do <sarcasm font>, I had a few thoughts and came up with an idea:

1.  I’m hungry.  Maybe that is because while I do find Adam delightful (so don’t you dare  go off sending me hate mail), I feel as if I should offer him a cheeseburger or something to fatten him up a bit.

2.  I really need to go get that new tattoo that I’ve been wanting.

3.  I understand that they have to give other guys a chance, but um HELLO???? WHERE IS JOHNNY DEPP?

4.  What constitutes “sexy”?  Sure Adam is easy on the eyes, but how do we know he isn’t a total prick?  (I’m sure he isn’t, but since I’ve never met him I cannot say for sure either way).  What about Johnny Farmer Bob?  No one showed up here to measure Bob’s level of sexiness.   Does Bob not make the list because he isn’t a guy with millions of adoring fans or have millions of dollars?  I see that Bob is at a massive disadvantage here.

5.  I’m still hurt over the Johnny thing.  I mean come ON.

6.  Who decides these things and why was I not consulted?

7.  WHAT ABOUT BOB?

I say it is time.  Time to show that our regular guys are sexy too.

Damn it, celebrities aren’t the only sexy men.  Our “regular” guys can compete with the likes of Adam, Idris, Jimmy, Luke, and of course Johnny. They CAN fortheloveoftatersandgravy!  After all, we married them/live with them/made babies with them/share a dog with them/haven’t killed them in their sleep to make the snoring stop so we must see something incredibly sexy about them.

While it is common practice to consider one “sexy” just based on what our eyes see <ahem, Johnny>, is that truly what makes them attractive?   Did you choose your husband/boyfriend just based on their looks?  Doubtful.  You chose him for his heart.  For the father you imagined him to be.  For the man you saw in him.  And yes, of course you chose him because his looks made your heart go all a-flutter.

That’s right ladies and gents, I want to see your sexy men.  I don’t just want to SEE them though, I want to know what makes them sexy.  What about him gets you all hot and bothered?  Don’t be shy, this is your chance to show off your man.  Follow closely my friends, there are rules and I need you to follow some directions. There may be a test.  Let’s start with some examples:

From my friend The Underachiever’s Guide to Being a Domestic Goddess:

DG’s husband, also known as the Greek God Adonis is sexy because he is able to laugh along with her daily at the basic, every day events in their family, he’s kind, generous and has a steady base that she can lean on. He comes home and immediately starts entertaining the kids while she gets dinner ready and is right there to help clean up and get the kids ready for baths. When he’s not working, he spends his extra time building Legos , fighting in epic light saber battles, and coaching the boys’ lacrosse team. He doesn’t mind getting up in the middle of the night to be there for the kids, he makes a mean breakfast, and he can fix anything that needs fixin’. He loves to play on his over 40 league lacrosse team called the Rusty Bones where, in each game, he demonstrates exactly why it is called that. He is even sexy when icing knee injuries and other bruises from playing like he’s still in high school. The sexiest thing of all is the way he loves his family with all his might and supports, encourages and cheers on everyone in his life.

DG

Mr. DG appears courtesy of DG

From my incredible friend Craughing:

The sexiest thing about The Fixer is his confidence in being a man. In a world overwhelmed with technology, money and being fake The Fixer shows his heart easily and with confidence. He is not overly concerned with looking tough and has somehow learned the perfect balance of being strong and sensitive. Somewhere along the way in his life, he learned that in order to be a man being open and loving is necessary and masculine. He is not afraid to try new things, admit when he is wrong, or show the world love and compassion. He strives to be a better person every day, and to make those he loves know they are adored. He also has a wicked sense of humor and laughs easily. Overall, his confidence in himself is what makes him the sexiest man I have known, that and he loves me well.

Craughing

The Fixer appears courtesy of Craughing Girl

I Want a Dumpster Baby thinks Dumpster Husband is sexy too, here are her thoughts:

What makes my husband sexy? Simple. He makes me laugh harder than anybody I’ve ever known. That’s the sexiest thing ever. That, and he has a great ass.

DH appears courtesy of IWADB

DH appears courtesy of IWADB

From the beautiful Blissfully Discontented:

Ordering dessert even though I said I didn’t want any, asks for two forks, and turns it toward me for the first bite…at the risk of losing it all to my ravenous sweet tooth.
His ability to laugh at himself…and see the funny in just about anything.  If I didn’t have him to make me laugh I know for a fact I would get sucked into my depressive oblivion as I’m known to do.  Also…he can quote stupid-funny movies like a mofo.  This is what first attracted me to him.  Hand to God.
He doesn’t always get why I need certain things in my life…like my need for sunshine and the shoreline.  But he gets ME.  He knows I operate on a solar-powered battery.  And although having his feet in the sand does absolutely nothing for him he knows the impact it has on me.  He holds my hand and walks countless miles up and down the beach.  He sits with me facing the tide for hours on end.  And he does it with a smile.  Means more to me than any jewelry in a fancy little box could every provide.
Most importantly, he is an excellent dad.  You can see the admiration and love in our kids’ eyes when they look at him.  He is firm but loving.  Silly but focused.  Even when life gets hard and work is overwhelming he puts it all aside and remembers what is important.  Aside from his ability to quote Chevy Chase or Adam Sandler…his ability to connect with kids is what truly attracted me to him.  When we first met we were camp counselors for a summer camp.  The way he interacted with his campers…I knew he was a catch then. I wanted to watch him grow into the man and father I knew he would one day become.  I thank God that he picked me to share this life and these babies with him.
The Gentleman appears courtesy of Bliss Dis

The Gentleman appears courtesy of Bliss Dis

And finally, here is what makes Farmer Bob sexy.  That’s right my friends, you finally get to see Bob.  Here is what makes him even sexier than Johnny:

Being an amazing father is what does it for me.  The way he isn’t afraid to show them his silly side, or his sensitive side, or his angry side.  The way he shows them every single day that he loves them whether it be playing a game of football in the front yard, helping them with homework, or showing them how to put a part on a tractor.  Throw in his never-ending support for me and my goals as a mother and as a woman/writer/person, it’s a wonder we don’t have more kids.  He puts up with me when I’m grumpy, when I’m being redonkulous, and when I’m being over-the-top silly.  He builds my confidence and reminds me that I am beautiful even when I disagree.  He makes me smile when he walks in the room and cheese on a cracker this man deserves a peace prize or something. Thankfully he settles for cookies instead.

Yes, that's really him. <3

Yes, that’s really him. <3

So here is the challenge, think about your man.  Really think.  Write down what makes him so irresistible to you.  What are the qualities that you see in him that maybe he doesn’t see in himself?  What makes him sexy as hell?

Once you have it nailed down (not your husband, your words)  I want to read them and I want to see your man.  Post a picture (keep it clean, the kiddies are watching) along with your words on my Facebook page or share it with me on Instagram (tag me @YKIHAYHT and use #mysexyman). I will give you until December 11 and then  I will assemble all the photos into a Facebook album for all to see and if the response is overwhelmingly positive, we will see where to go from there! <looking for some sponsors for some manly prizes maybe?  HINT, HINT>

Now don’t be shy, let us CELEBRATE our amazing men because the “regular” guys are sexy too!

*Stay tuned ladies and gentlemen, depending on the success (or utter failure) of this experiment you will (hopefully) have your turn to return the favor for your lady in the near future.*

 

 

Should You Really Be On The Internet?

My friend Kenny Rogers says:  ”You gotta know when to hold em.  Know when to fold em. Know when to walk away.  Know when to run.”

This song pops in my head every time I get on the internet.  Every. Time.

All over these here interwebs, someone is being a total dickhead to someone else.  Granted, some people really do deserve it, but for the most part all I see is the herp.  Herpes here, herpes there, herpes all over the damn place.  After a while, it sucks the life out of your soul.   It eats away your brain like a flesh eating amoeba and before you even realize it you have become one of them.  Spewing your hatred all over the screen for all to see.  Spreading the herp from one post to another.

Oh, look at her with her perfect little family.  What a bitch.

Does he want a gold medal for taking care of  his kids?  What an arrogant douchebag.

That is the ugliest dog I’ve ever seen.  They should just put it down.

The admin of this page is a LOSER.  Get a life and get a boyfriend.

Hate, hate, hate.  It’s everywhere and it’s repulsive.

There are people just as dumb as me (some even dumber) and so many people that are so much smarter than I that provide the content that entertains all of us on a minute-by-minute basis.  Did you catch that?  I said that there are PEOPLE providing the content that you read on your little screen.  PEOPLE.

People, because cats can’t make all those stupid memes, they don’t even have thumbs or internet access.

PEOPLE.  People keep the interwebs alive.  People with feelings.  People with lives. People that feel real emotion.

Granted, some people have cold black hearts, but they are still PEOPLE.

PEOPLE.   REAL.  FUCKING.  HUMAN.  PEOPLE.

Before you log on the next time, I ask you to follow this simple flow chart.  It really only takes a second and it should be referred to on a daily basis:

Do you pass?

Do you pass?

It’s hard to shut your pie hole when you read something on the internet that infuriates you.  Oh, it’s SOOOOOO HARD.

But you know what isn’t hard?  Scrolling.  That’s right, scroll right on by that motherfucker.   Try it.  I triple dog dare you.

*Authors note:  Kenny Rogers isn’t really my friend, but if he met me I’m sure he’d want to be my friend*

 

Have You Laughed Today?

We need more funny.   There are just too many negative, heart wrenching, horrible, tragic, craptastic things that really screw up a good day.  I find the best way to combat the uglies is to laugh.  Not just ha ha, but a HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA kind of laugh.  The kind of laugh that makes you lose control of your bodily functions.  Don’t say you don’t know what I’m talking about because you’ve all farted while having a good laugh.  Maybe you’ve peed.  There is always the possibility that you’ve done both at the same time.   I’m not speaking from experience, I’ve just heard stories .

In an effort to bring more laughter to my very small and minute corner of the interwebs, allow me to deliver to you some funny.  If you get through this and you don’t laugh at least once, even just a snicker or a smirk, then I will be truly be worried about you.

Have You Laughed Today?

Before we get into this too deep, you must take the pledge.  That’s right, I’m making you take a pledge.  Now repeat after me:

I <say your name here> (and I really mean say YOUR name.  SAY IT!) promise to laugh at least once during this post.  If I don’t smile or giggle even once I promise to remove the proverbial stick from my ass and read it again.  If I still don’t find it funny,  I promise not to be a spreader of internet herpes and I will just move along.  I also promise to be an ambassador of funny and will make it my goal to make one other person on this planet laugh today.  If I cannot make it happen today, I will try even harder to make it happen tomorrow.  I make this pledge and promise to myself because having a kick-ass sense of humor is so much better than being an asshole.

OK…Now that the technicalities are out of the way, let us begin.

The other night I saw a commercial for Casey’s pizza.  I swear at the end it says “penis for pizza”.  Since I possess the sense of humor of a twelve-year-old boy this makes me giggle.  I then had to ask my Facebook friends for words that make them giggle.  If you can make it through this list of words without laughing once, you may be too mature.  Try it:

Dictator, flatulence, scrotum, doodoo, poop, balls, sack, super duty, Uranus, tits, penetration, lubrication, thrust, erector, weiner, poppycock, tallywackers, vagina, jackwagon, underwear,  lake titicaca, farts, annnnnd….dooky.

I lose it at dictator, but again I am immature.

You all know that as parents/grandparents/guardians of kids (both of the human and furry varieties) we find the most random crap around the house.  I also took this to the Facebook just to see if the level of nasty around my house is equivalent to those of my friends. For those of you wondering what I meant when I said that I find “saucy underwear”, just think of a kid who over-trusted a fart.  I guarantee you will laugh at the responses to this post:

 

Laughing yet?  NO????  Surely you’ve laughed at least once so far???  If not keep reading because I have some pretty funny friends.

 

Why don’t you try this from my friend Kerry at House Talk’N.  She is determined to bring back the dickie <giggle, she said dickie>.  Watch this vlog and try not to snicker every time they say “dickie”.

 

If you are feeling like a terrible parent thanks to Pinterest, you can always check out this post by Nicole Leigh Shaw on Nick Mom and know that you aren’t alone.

Need help figuring out if you can be friends with the other moms?  Have them answer this short questionnaire devised by Kim on In the Powder Room (who I now know is destined to be my sister-wife)

Surely you’ve seen this video that has been all over the interwebs.  It had Farmer Bob laughing so it must be funny:

Are you laughing yet?  You better be because laughter kicks ass.

No?  Here’s my last offer.  If you can read this (and you MUST listen to the clip at the end) from my very dear friend Katy and you don’t at least smile…you have issues.

Now go, complete your mission and make someone else laugh.

 

Do You Have Internet Herpes?

I have to tell you something.  Something very serious.  Something frightening and probably considered a tad too much information.  Are you ready? Here we go …I have PMS.    Not just any PMS mind you, this is late-thirties PMS which is quite different from late-twenties PMS or even early thirties PMS.  It’s true ladies, it gets worse with every passing month.  This month seems to be a bit more disappointing than the others have been and I have been spending the last couple of days trying to figure out why.  Last night I had that “a ha” moment.  It’s people.  Partially myself, partially other people, but people in general are disappointing.

I have had these feelings for a while now, but I think this latest battle with the raging hormones has exacerbated it and brought it to an extremely ugly head. Like a big nasty pimple.   This really sucks when you are a writer and you want to write something so damn funny but you can’t.  You just can’t be funny.  You know you need to be because the people, they like it, but your tank is empty.  If you don’t write/say/do something funny the people will be disappointed. If you don’t blow people away with your witty rhetoric they could revolt and leave you to your own demise.  The pressure deepens and you feel the funny recede further down into your soul.  You beg the funny to come back.  You plead and you scream at it.  You try to entice it with cookies and wine but it just gives you a big fat finger and tells you to piss off.   Come back when you are serious about being funny again.  Find what is stealing your thunder and tell it to hit the road, then maybe we can talk.

I say now is the time to talk.  I realized it’s the people.  Not most people, but a small minority of people.  I would say that there is a 99.9% chance that it isn’t even a single person who is reading this right this moment, but I can’t be certain.  It’s that 0.01% of people who make it their goal every day to ruin someone’s day.  Yeah, I’m talking to you assholes that think you are bad ass motherfuckers who can read someone’s blog and degrade them in the comments.  You people that have to ruin a perfectly good status update with your hateful words.  That woman in Wal-Mart who has to judge another for disciplining her child in a public setting while she talks on her phone and her own spawn wreak havoc in the aisles.  Those parents that volunteer to help with something at school and then the day of decide they don’t want to participate anymore.  What is happening to us?

My initial gut reaction is to give up Facebook.  It seems like that is where the most drama exists, but I’m not gonna lie.  I need Facebook like a stripper needs a pole.  I have had so many positive things come from Facebook both socially and professionally.  Wait?  Did I just say professionallydoes that make me a professional?  It helps me realize that my kid isn’t the only one who eats her boogers or puts his finger in his butt or asks a teacher if it’s OK for him to play with his balls.  What?  Your kids don’t say that?  It helps me feel like less of a failure as a wife and a mother on those days when I don’t feel like cooking supper or if I admit that my kids are driving me crazy.  We all need that reassurance that we aren’t alone and I get that from Facebook, sometimes on an hourly basis.

Unfortunately it also brings out the ugly in people.  One terrible comment leads to another terrible comment and before you know it the hatred is spreading like a bad case of herpes.  Internet herpes.  I can openly admit that I have been known to suffer from this terrible affliction.  Luckily for me I am able to control my outbreaks, but for so many others it is a frequently occurring, and apparently incurable,  problem.  You have all seen it.  The tyrannical rulers of the Internet.  You can write a post about babies and glitter and little baby puppies and they are all up in your business trying to make you look like you threw the babies and the puppies in a pit of fire and sprinkled them with the glitter in celebration of their terrible demise and you will burn in hell for even writing about it.  This is when the outbreak begins and before you know it everyone around you is suffering from the most incredible case of Facebook herpes and and it is spreading faster than the bubonic plague.  Facebook herpes is the worst disease to hit humanity in recent history.  At some point every person has suffered from it, but only those who really care are interested in a cure.

I think it is time for me to let you in on a little secret.  Now, we have to keep this super hush-hush because this has NOT been approved by the FDA and don’t need them all up in my business.  I have the cure for Internet herpes.  If you enjoy your raging case, then by all means I will give you a second to go ahead and leave…You still here?  Good, that means that like me you desire to cure this terrible affliction.  Are you sure you can handle this?  It is an intensive process, but I think it will be worth the effort.  This is so earth shattering it could change the internets forEVAH.  Ready?  You may want to be sure you are sitting down….here we go:

Nice

Holy shit.  Can you believe it?  Take a minute to pick yourself up off the floor and process what just happened here.  Isn’t it a miracle cure?  Together we can do this.  If you don’t have something nice or constructive to say, shut your pie-hole.  If you come across a status infected with the herp,  just walk away.  Don’t feed the herpes monster, just be nice to each other.  Such a simple concept really, but I think if we all join together we can eradicate this terrible disease one comment at a time.

Find What Fills Your Soul

Last week I asked my Facebook friends to ask me questions.  Any question. I promised to answer them completely and honestly, and being a woman of my word, I did.  All except one.  It wasn’t because I didn’t like the question, it was because the timing of it was more than I could ignore.   The weird thing here is that it isn’t an earth-shattering, thought-provoking question, but something about it sent my brain into overload and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.  Today, I answer the question.  I can’t ignore it anymore.  It comes from my dear friend Mary Tyler Mom, and when she asks you better be answering.  Not that she is threatening or anything, but damn…she’s Mary Tyler Mom.  Anywho, dear  MTM asked me “How did you start writing”.  See, nothing over the top.  Not like she asked me to reveal my kids’ real names, or to give out my address.  What’s so damn hard about that question?  The problem is that not only did I interpret it as “how”, but I of course had to put more into it and ask myself “why”.  Why do I write?

I suppose the “how” part is easy.  The smartass in me says, one day I picked up a pencil and grabbed a piece of paper (remember those days?) and started writing words.  In college I progressed up to computers and being a History major, there was never a shortage of papers and late nights.  After college, I quit writing.  I can’t explain why, but I just quit.   Since all I had known for so long was “required” writing, I guess I thought that was all that I could do.  Give me the assignment, let me do the research, and I will knock your socks off with a piece about Abraham Lincoln.  Boom.  Once those assignments weren’t coming in anymore, the writing didn’t go out.

The writing didn’t start to go out again until one year ago.  Yep, one year ago exactly, that was when I realized that I missed it.  I missed the words.  I missed the thought involved in forming the words.  I missed writing.  When friends suggested I start a blog I never thought it would work for me.  I’m not a story-teller, I’m a factual writer.  Short of a few funny status updates I had never written for entertainment purposes, only for that grade.  I knew I was funny in my head, we are all funny to ourselves, but would other people find me funny?  Would other people be able to relate to what I’m saying? Who in the hell would read this drivel besides my mother (occasionally) and a handful of friends.  And by “handful”, I really mean one or two.  Never in a million years did I expect total strangers to enjoy my words.  Never.

As a first-time blogger, I didn’t exactly know what I wanted out of this.  I still don’t know if I can fully answer that question.  I’m not gonna try to bullshit you, there isn’t a writer out there who doesn’t hope that their work will hit the big time, but this biz is hard yo.  There are thousands of writers out there all striving for that same goal and for many, blogging is their job.  They do it full-time and they are determined to be the next big thing.  I gotta give them some big kudos because I can’t do this gig full-time.  Hell, I can barely do it part-time.  I can barely get this post finished because of the constant demand for a rousing game of Go-Fish.  So I suppose the timing of MTM’s question was meant to be.  It was meant to make me search inside myself and really think. Think about how far I was willing to go.  Think about how I could let one little blog mean so much to me.  Think about how much it has changed my life in just 365 days. Think about WHY I keep writing.

Would I love for a piece of mine to go viral?  Duh.  Isn’t that secretly what we all wish for?  I see it the same as when us parents post a “mom brag” photo on Facebook of our kids winning a spelling bee or a perfect attendance award.   If you have something that you are proud of, you want the world to see it.  Would I love to be making more money at this?  Um…who couldn’t use a little extra cashola in their bank account. What am I willing to sacrifice to get there?  My marriage?  I think not.  My kids? Absolutely not.  My friendships?  No way in hell.  But WHY?  WHY am I sitting here at 10:30 at night and 6:00 in the morning writing?  Why?  Because it fills my soul.   Because it allows me to put the thoughts in my head on paper.  Because it isn’t a job, it’s a hobby. Because it gives me an outlet and that outlet has helped me to realize that I am not alone.  Because it has given me the ability to make people smile.  The ability to make a difference.  The ability to be a positive light and add some laughter into someone’s day.

The biggest struggle for me has been to find my voice.  Don’t confuse voice with self-confidence because I am not lacking in the latter, but this blogosphere is hard.   You read one blog and you love her voice, how can you duplicate it without stealing it?  You read another one and you love her design, how can I implement that without it being the same?  You think the more you write, the more people read.  Before you know it you are sacrificing quality for quantity and then then you start wondering  if maybe you should write less because the people aren’t reading, so they must not like you. You get the haters who knock you down and instill the doubt inside you that you suck and should just fold up shop right this instant.  All aboard the emotional roller coaster.  Joy and excitement one day, a quick trip to emotional despair the next.  I think the most important thing I have learned this year, and it has taken me 364 days to figure this out, is to be true to myself.  It doesn’t make a hill of beans of difference what you write, someone is going to disagree.  That is human nature.  The key is to not sacrifice who you are in order to avoid the naysayers. You don’t like me?  I’m down with that. Just know that I won’t allow you to rain on my parade.  Mama ain’t got time fo’ dat.

We all have those days in which we feel as if all we have been served is a big ol shit sandwich with a side of sour pickles.  While I may not be a ray of freaking sunshine every day myself, I make it my goal to try to make at least one person smile every day.  I don’t know, maybe I should say I am an entertainer instead of a writer?  No.  I am a writer.  I am a writer who entertains with my words.  It has taken me a year to be able to say that.  I. AM. A. WRITER.   While my words may not fatten my bank account, or put my name on a best seller list, or even get me that dinner with Johnny, my words make a difference to someone.  Some days that someone may just be me, some days it may be hundreds of people, but as long as they make a difference to someone I will be here.  Writing.  Because it is what fills my soul.

Soul

Can You Poop Without Your Smart Phone?

Do you have a smart phone or other hand-held electronic device that you couldn’t live without? Can you can keep track of that thing better than you can keep track of your two-year-old?   Would your world come crashing down around you if you ever misplaced it? If you have found yourself wondering if you could ever survive separation from your beloved, here are the top ten signs you may have a severe addiction to your hand-held device:

Smart Phone

1.  You find yourself unable to perform your daily constitutional without having your phone in your hands.  If you can’t even put it down to wash afterwards, your addiction is severe, seek help immediately.

2.  Your thumbs have become the most agile part of your body because they get the most exercise.

3.  Your auto-correct knows your thoughts better than your spouse.  It knows that you want to say “that is reDONK” instead of “that is ridiculous”.  It knows that you want to say “that is a piece of shit” not “piece of shot”.   Your spouse is still trying to figure out your cycle.

4.  You have forgotten that books are still printed on paper.

5.  You log off Facebook/Twitter/Pinterest only to pick up your phone and refresh just in case you missed something super important in the past thirty seconds.

6.  You constantly find a reason to say “let me Google that”  and “is there an app for that” during conversation.

7.  You start to freak out because you are trying to get out the door and you can’t find your phone.  Only to realize that you are currently talking to someone.  Via telephone.   DOH!

8.  You wake up in a panic because your device is missing from its place of honor next to your bed. You find it tucked in under the covers because apparently you fell asleep mid-Tweet and you now you know where that black-eye came from.

9.  You start to get the nervous shakes when your battery life drops below twenty percent and you don’t have access to a charger.  You know, when you are waiting to catch a glimpse of the one person you have dreamed of meeting since 1987.  I’ve heard of this happening.

10.   Your idea of  multi-tasking is brushing your teeth, telling your kids to put on their shoes, and picking out some earrings all while pinning the recipe for tonight’s dinner followed by catching up on your Facebook news feed and checking your email.

If you find yourself nodding in agreement to any or all of the above, congratulations and welcome to the club.  Maybe we should start a support group?   Think about it and we can discuss it via Twitter, Facebook, and text message.

 

If I Worked at Facebook

I don’t know if you all have noticed, but lately Facebook has been so kind as to provide us with somewhat of a writing prompt every time we log on.  The same cycle of questions over, and over, and over again.  Questions such as these;

How are you feeling, Tara?
I feel like shit, thanks for asking.

What’s happening, Tara?
I’ve had too much coffee, I have to pee like a racehorse and my kids are constantly fighting over toys. Anything else you want to know?

Share what’s going on, YKIHAYHT.
I’m struggling just to get a new blog post written, I’m hoping to survive Christmas break without losing my mind or my liver, and I really need to clean toilets.

Share what’s on your mind, YKIHAYHT.
You don’t really want to know what’s on my mind, Facebook.  It’s probably not appropriate.

Really Facebook?  This is the best you can come up with?  If I worked there, I think I would have a good time just coming up with totally random questions to ask.  Why not ask questions that would really give some spectacular status updates? Ask the questions that really matter.  Questions like;

Who has really pissed you off today, Tara?

Well Facebook, since you asked, Lifetouch Portrait Studios is tops on my shit list lately.  Not only did I receive my pictures thirteen days after they were promised to me, but they couldn’t even produce the  pictures that I had originally ordered.  One would think that for as much as I paid for those incredibly overpriced pictures, they could afford to hire competent people to not only read orders correctly, but to answer my questions and give quality customer service.  Since apparently their supervisors cannot return phone calls, I get the pleasure of scorching some poor saps ear canals again this morning in an effort to get results.  All I want to do is mail my Christmas cards which now are more like Happy New Year cards that say Merry Christmas.  I will look like the dumb ass who forgot to order her cards on time.  Thanks Lifetouch.  Just when you think convenience pays, it smacks you right in the face and runs away laughing and leaves you wanting to remove someones balls with a plastic butter knife.

Who are you stalking today, Tara?

In all honesty Facebook, today I am stalking some of my fans.  Johnny doesn’t have a Facebook page, so I thought I would take my stalking to the people I adore almost as much.   I figure that I let them into my life, they should let me into theirs, even if it is without their knowledge.  They are all so damn good looking, and I promise I just want to get to know them a little better.  It isn’t my fault they don’t have their security settings on lock-down.  They do look like a fun group, it really is no surprise that they like to hang out with me.  I really think we could have one hell of a party if we all got together.  Somebody should really set that up.

Share a totally ridiculous picture of yourself so others can make fun of you in the comments.  People love making fun of you behind your back, why not let them do it where you can read it?

Well, OK.  I have no shame and I did happen to have a short make-out session with Johnny in Hallmark last night.  Sometimes we just can’t control ourselves.  It is so hard to keep our relationship, and my fabulous hairstyle, a secret.  On the plus side, at least I had a friend with me to take this.  I could have taken it in the bathroom mirror by myself, so remember that before you pass judgement.  And yes, I did have a FRIEND with me, I didn’t have to pay the salesperson to take it. I have friends ya know.

Share your thoughts on a popular and controversial issue so that those that think differently from you can publicly criticize you and your beliefs.

Gee Facebook, since you put it that way, please let me share my thoughts on religion and politics.  I love setting myself up for public humiliation.  It always brings out the best in people.  That sounds like about as much fun as putting my tongue in a meat grinder.  I once made the mistake of asking my friends if they preferred theirs real or fake (Christmas trees.  I’m talking about Christmas trees here you pervs), and you would have thought that I had asked them for their solution to the national debt.  I learned early on to avoid these topics like the plague, but thanks for the suggestion.

What kind of underwear are you wearing?

Very good question Facebook.  Right now, they are the dirty kind since I haven’t showered yet.  I’m not quite sure on my mood, so can I report back to you later on my decision?

Quit bullshitting people, what are you really doing today?

Damn you Facebook, how did you know I wasn’t out scouring the rainforest for endangered animals, or having a crafting party for fifteen of Mini-Me’s closest friends, or potty training PITA in less than six hours?  In all honesty, I’m still sitting here in my pajamas drinking my sixth cup of coffee.  My kids are running around naked, eating cookies and handfuls of M & M’s.  The laundry is about to revolt and I haven’t seen my living room carpet in days.  In a few minutes I am going to force them to put clothes on and sit them in front of the television for the rest of the afternoon while I take a nap.  This parenting gig is hard work.

Tell us the real reason you called in “sick” to work.

Honestly, I just didn’t feel like going.  I’m contemplating a career change and thought I would take the day to scour the internet looking at my options.  Instead I am sitting here on Facebook and will go back to work tomorrow and remember exactly why I hate my job.  I will then spend the rest of the day kicking myself in the ass for getting sucked into stalking, looking at ridiculous pictures, giving my political opinions, and reading totally fabricated status updates meant to make my friends look like the incredible parents that they aren’t.  Damn you Facebook.

Come on Facebook, let’s get creative. Let’s have some fun and really get people talking.  Isn’t that the point of social media?  My creative team and I are always available for consultation, just one little email away.
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In unrelated news, if you are an iPad/iPhone/iPod user, did you know you can add me directly to your home page?  It is easy peasy, lemon squeezy.  Just follow these simple steps and have access to all my new blog posts with the touch of your finger, plus have a little bit of Johnny to look at as well ;-)

1.  Open www.youknowithappensatyourhousetoo.com in Safari.

2.  Click on the arrow at the bottom.                                  3.  Click “Add to Home Screen

          

4.  Enjoy YKIHAYHT at the touch of Johnny’s face.  How awesome is that?