So it's come to this...

...I'm spamming my own blog here with a forwarded email but it's the best I've seen in awhile:

New Baskin-Robbins Ice Cream

In honor of the 44th President of the United StatesBaskin-Robbins Ice Cream has issued a new flavor, Barocky Road.

Barocky Road is a blend of half vanilla, half chocolate, and is surrounded by nuts and flakes. The vanilla portion of the mix is not openly advertised and usually denied as an ingredient. The nuts and flakes are all very bitter and hard to swallow.

The cost is $100 per scoop. When purchased it will be presented to you in a large, beautiful cone, but then the ice cream is taken away and given to the person in line behind you.

Thus you are left with an empty wallet, no change, holding an empty cone, with no hope of getting any ice cream.

(LMAO!!!)

For Clamuck...

Back off Brangelina and Bennifer....

Now, I've only seen one photo, but this guy bears something of a resemblance to the Canuck.

This is hifreakinlarious, but not for the young'uns to see.

The Female Essence Factor

If you hadn't guessed, one of the key topics around here these past few weeks has been boy-girl and man-woman relationships and relationship dynamics.

The Beloved proffered this bit of wisdom about the Athlete:

He's a 17 year old boy. Trust me. He only wants one thing.

I objected to this over-generalization and went into a full-blown defense of the Athlete and of well-formed young men (rare though they may be) everywhere. I see a caring, socially responsible and well-rounded young man who's been respectful (other than the movie-smooch move) and far more patient with the Princess than a purely hormone-driven 17 year old boy might otherwise be. So the Beloved revised his analysis:

Okay, fine. They want to smell you, touch you, then have sex with you.

At that moment, the baby crawled into my lap, put his head down on my shoulder and started sniffing my neck (like his daddy, he loves my perfume) while petting my hair with the hand that was draped down my back. An instant later, he shoved his other cold little paw down into my decolletage, started patting my sternum, made his happy-boy cooing sounds, and then grinned at me, much to the Beloved's delight.

See, we're all the same. We can't help it. Pigs, pigs, pigs. Pigs from birth to 95.

He smirked at us and sauntered off to the living room, copping a quick neck-sniff, a smooch and a terrible eyebrow wiggle on his way past me and our happy little boy.

Not a dry eye in the kitchen.

Merci, Monsieur Cartier...

McCain on SNL

Funny stuff!



Fine. Gold. Hee hee hee!!!

Our Composer in Residence...

Friends, we have greatness in our midst.

As Election Day approaches, our favorite Neanderthal, Cavey, has composed some alternative lyrics to improve on a few rather dreadful old tunes...pop over and take a look, but if you are easily offended...okay, well, maybe don't. Whatever the case may be, I say it's great to have a smile on your face and a song in your heart.

Thanks Cavey!!!

An Aspie's Ode to Stinky Diapers

A burst of new song overheard last night in the living room during a rather malodorous diaper change:

It isn't funny to be stinky
'Cause stinking isn't funny

It doesn't bother you

Because your nose is stuffy

.

And it's not funny to sneeze

When your little nose is runny

Quit rubbing all that snot
On your nekkid tummy

You don't have to smell you
Stop laughing, it's not funny...

Followed by:

"MA-MMMMAAAAA! He's disgusting! I need help!"

After clearing the toxic waste spill, I ran upstairs to write it down before I forgot it. Oh, did I laugh!!!

It happened in Vegas....

....and he's STAYIN' in Vegas!

Ten Things I'd Like to See in Action: A Meme

Courtesy of MSgt. Cavey....

1. His Excellency Erik Richtsteig, Bishop of Rochester (Sorry Tara, but don't be greedy!)

2. Digi, arguing a career-making case in the Riverside County Courthouse, taking a dramatic pause, looking Heavenward for inspiration...and cracking up because of something she sees hanging from the ceiling. (Long story...)

3. Dinnertime at Jackie's...or better yet, the Parkes home!

4. A wedding photo of Kasia & The Canuck

5. Karen, at the investiture - oops - installment of Father Joan in Rochester. ("Go ahead. Make my day!")

6. A serious, knock-down, drag-out catfight between Condi Rice and Michelle Obama. Intellectually and physically, Condi SO wins!(Vincenzo, I rely on you to make this virtually happen!)

UPDATE: The prompt, talented, and ever-intrepid Vincenzo comes through!!!

7. The Beloved, holding that long-promised 9-figure winning Powerball ticket in his hand

8. Me, looking down at my hospital wristband and the matching one on the sleeping newborn in my arms, sometime in 2009. (Prayers for that one, please...so far, not so good!)

9. The downfall of OPEC

10. The return, open practice, and "coolness" of traditional Christian morality - and hence, the restoration of the traditional family...as led by real, MANLY men - in American culture

AND....I have one more:

11. The return of Ma Beck to her blog! (We miss you!!!)

All are encouraged to participate, but those linked by my wretched attempts at humor, you're TAGGED!

Awwww...Nuts!

Imagine if your Chapter of Faults took place on national television...

BO: "Hey...how'd those get in there?!?"

JJ: "Oops, must've dropped my butter knife"

(P.S. Don't worry, Fr. Erik - they had a lot of us fooled!)

Mean wife moment

Ok, I know I'm bad...but the poor beleaguered beloved just got home from a day of security and fire training, sits down on the couch and stretches back with a huge sigh...and Jack the Cat chose that precise moment to jump into his lap for some dude time. Like a 12 lb bowling ball to the unprotected belly and manly bits. The sound of pain and all the air rushing out of his lungs - it was too much.

All three females are howling like hyenas, weak and weeping with laughter, the baby catches on and starts giggling, which makes the Beloved gather up what's left of his dignity and hobble to the kitchen for a drink, and perhaps a cold compress, grumbling about his "mean wife" and offspring. He had a little smirk going on, but still...

The cat, still not sure what our human issues are, is somewhere hiding on the third floor. ("Dude, all I wanted was a little ear and belly scratch...no need to freak out on me!")

It's like any given "Funniest Home Videos" moment. What is it about seeing such things that makes us laugh like that?

(My tummy still hurts!)

L.O.FRIGGIN'.L!!!!!

Ahhh, the 10 year old strikes again! She just got up for a late-night drink and walked into my room to find out "what all the howling was about" on tv. The Obama victory speech, I assured her, with a happy crowd cheering.

"Oh. They sound like orcs. Goodnight."

Deadpan delivery, as only an Aspie can do.

(Oh my gosh, I am still laughing!)

[Don't] vote for O[rc]bama!

(Surely someone with Photoshop skills could have fun with these!)