Here’s a little more stuff because I want to fully clear the decks before I go on my trip to France with Sideboob and proceed to spam my blog with smug posts about my fabulous European travel.
I took the kids up to Snow Mountain Ranch for a few days over Spring Break to hang with family friends and snowboard at Mary Jane.
I left Chief and Scheissehund at home with a sitter and I missed them so fucking much. Especially at night. All I ever really want from life is to have all the animals in bed with me.
As yet I haven’t been able to do better than four out of five, but it’s never the four out of five that I want. I want (in order of importance) Mr. Bates, Minx, Chief (because dogs are easy so why prioritize) and Scheissehund.
BUT THAT FUCKING CAT KEEPS RUINING IT! She keeps Minx out my bed!
So I had a session with a pet psychic (go ahead, mock me, I deserve it) about Mr. Bates because I can’t seem to get him well. It’s always something with him these days and a friend of mine swears that this psychic knows things about her cats that she would have no way of knowing otherwise.
I have spent $65 on dumber things so I figured, why not?
First of all, she didn’t want to know anything about me or my pets, she only asked that I send pictures with their names and ages. The first thing she said was that Bates is experiencing terrible mouth pain. She also said that before he was neutered, he had enormous balls!
SO BIG that they got in the way of his walking and she is certain that there are pictures of them on the internet somewhere.
Naturally I believed everything that came out of her mouth because OF COURSE HE HAD MASSIVE BALLS!
I mean, LOOK AT HIM!
You don’t just tell a person her cat had massive balls UNLESS IT WAS TRUE! I dare say she was going out on a limb because most people would find that to be an awkward thing to talk about. Just sayin’.
So I took him to the vet and sure enough both his top canines were broken and infected. A massive amount of money later and his canines were removed and his teeth cleaned and he seems a lot happier.
Inexplicably the vet gave me his broken teeth. She also gave me Chief’s balls so I wonder if this is standard service for them. They give you back whatever they take out of your pet?
Perhaps I should consider Neuticles for Bates. Definitely going Ultra Plus.
I saw this big fella while driving home the other day. I had to slam on the brakes and turn the car around to talk to his owner. 145 pounds of dog, he is. She says he doesn’t eat a thing and it’s a glandular issue. Not pictured was a big container of dog treats … maybe to tempt him? I don’t know, but he is very loved.
I don’t think I need to say anything more about this photo.
Sideboob keeps talking about wanting a dog which is a terrible idea because 1) her cats are assholes and B) she likes to travel too much. I have encouraged her to take Chief on her excursions. The other morning she took him to Royal Arch and I got to put in a double shift at the studio and burned through the rest of my clay before the trip.
She sent him home exhausted and I got some nice pictures of him.
Tabby’s sister posted this image of a painting she made of her, it’s the best likeness I’ve ever seen of Tabby.
I don’t see nearly enough of Tabby these days, she obsessed with her horses. But I still look forward to whatever time we can eke out.
This Easter I went to Emily’s house for brunch and egg hunt. I took it as an opportunity to engage in some 50’s style cooking. You take a bag of frozen hash browns, two cans of creamed soup, a container of sour cream, and a bag of shredded cheese and what you get is magic.
Of course I had to share it with My Parasitic Twin because among all the things we share in common, casseroles are at the very top of our list.
I love that crazy bitch. She’s always right there with me when I get super random. I never have to explain any 80’s reference or orient her to my current thought process, I just jump on in and she’s on it.
Oh yeah, and this.
Anywhoo, I’ve been momming so fucking hard to get ready. Check this shit out …
I put Itchy in charge of getting dinner on the table every day because otherwise it’s gonna be pizza and spaghetti … at 8:00 after the kids have already gone to town on cereal and crackers because they were hungry but now they aren’t and they just ate a fuckload of crap rather than real food.
Food is my language of love, ergo I love my kids very much and if I come home to find out they didn’t eat every last bit of what I made for them and just got pizza every night so help me …
I can’t tell you how ready I am for this trip. I am completely packed and Sideboob has concocted a contingency plan should the French airline and transportation system strike (they are planning a strike the day we arrive).
We plan to fly into Paris and catch a local plane to the coast but a strike will fuck that up. Just incase, Sideboob reserved a car and planned our drive (five hours to Lyon for the first night, the other five the next day to Menton), reserved a hotel in Lyon (unlimited cancellation policy, natch) and made a Pinterest board for stuff do do on the drive.
I have never been as in love with her as I am now.
And it’s snowing so I cannot wait to get to balmier climes.
Last night my pottery peeps (and others) came over for dinner, it was like the good old days.
There was so much food and booze and I didn’t have to do a thing … until it was time to clean up.
Oh my god, what a mess! But worth it.
And we had an impromptu spanking session apropos of nothing.
My boys were little when I started having these dinners. Since then Alana and Rachel had babies and now they are 3 and 4 years-old. We wanted some grown-up time (obviously) so Alana paid Scratchy to watch the kids. He was magnificent.
He watched Shaun the Sheep with them, hide-and-seek, made pillow forts, took them for rides on the dog bed, and had bear dress-up fashion shows. Itchy hid in is room with a book.
I relate more to Itchy, I never knew what to do with kids when I was young, but Scratchy is such a natural and he made beaucoup bucks doing it. I was really proud of his patience and sweet nature, he definitely didn’t get it from me.
Lauren, my surrogate sister (and Marcia’s daughter) is spending the night tonight, tomorrow my only agenda items are to visit the pottery studio and put stuff on the proper racks and then get a mani-pedi with Sideboob.
We are determined to not out ourselves as from America by dint of our clothes, shoes, luggage, or dirty fingernails.
Au revoir bishes! The next time you hear from me I’ll be in France!