It was a weird night…

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Last night I had a migraine starting when I went to bed. I took some medicine and prayed it would help. I’m not sure it helped with the migraine but it did allow me to write an entire book while I slept. And the bonus, the book is intended to be made into a movie.

I woke up about every hour and wrote down what had happened during the last hour of sleep. I even casted who would star in the movie adaptation of the book. Denzel Washington, in case you’re interested.

I woke up at one point and Lola was staring at me intently while standing over me. I must have been yelling at the actors for not portraying my book correctly. Poor Denzel, he’s probably sorry he took the job. But dammit, I have a vision! I am an artist.

I’m going to be the next John Grisham.

P.S. I still have the migraine so I plan on taking more medicine after the Littles leave today and maybe I’ll write a sequel to last night’s story. It did end on a cliffhanger so I think it’s going to be a series. 

My entire life has been preparing for this moment…

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It was mayhem in the kitchen. There was flour, sugar, salt and oil all over. I had the fry daddy heating up and the batter was being prepared. I tried to control my excitement so that I could properly measure the ingredients, but it was difficult. I spilled milk and cursed myself for making the process even longer when all I wanted to do was eat.

And then the batter was ready.

I walked over the fridge and looked for the target of my nighttime snack. I had an entire drawer of them in my fridge, thanks mostly to a daycare dad who thinks of me in Walmart. Also, friends who are bribing me to keep themselves off the Shank List. Smart bastards.

The Twinkie.

I rolled that Twinkie around in the funnel cake batter and dropped that mother into the fryer. Then I happy danced so hard that I almost twisted an ankle.

Deep Fried Twinkie

It was amazing. And made my belly hurt. I guess that’s the sign of a good dessert.

Tonight I’m going to deep fry a Snickers bar. A fun size version. Because after eating that deep-fried Twinkie I’m not feeling so great.

And in the interest of preserving some of my years on this earth, I’m heading out to buy salad items and fruit. I figure that should offset some of the fried desserts until I run out of funnel cake batter. By my calculations, I have about 5 nights of batter left.

Pray for me.

Leave me a comment below with items I should deep fry in funnel cake batter.

The day the world was created. Oh, wait. Umm, hang on…

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Do you know what happens when the military rolls out a new website?

Fucking anarchy.

I can only imagine what this website would look like if it were designed by Google or Facebook or the people who brought us Twitter. It would probably run. And let me log in. And I bet I could actually upload pictures.

Basically, this new site will allow me, the home daycare provider, to connect directly with parents who need care. This replaces the middleman who used to communicate between the two parties.

But that’s only if I can figure out how to de-tech myself and use what can only be described as ancient methods of scroll down menu after scroll down menu.

I feel like my iPhone 6+ was taken away and I’ve got a tin can and a fucking string…but no other can!!!

The military should have made this shit like Twitter. In 140 characters or less, the parents would tell me why I should choose them. And I could upload my provider profile in 140 characters or less. Mine would read:

U need daycare-I’ve got the only spot-there’s another 100 kids on the list. How bad do you want me to choose u?! P.S. I like cheese…& GO!

It would be funny to see the hashtags these poor parents would come up with.

#desperate #MoneyIsNoObject #DearGodHelpMe #TheNavyDemandsMyPresence #MyBabyNeverCries #IOwnStockInKraft #DoYouLikeGouda #BlueCheeseCanBeArranged #DearSweetBabyJesusPickMeSoIDontLoseMyJob

 

 

 

 

Either way, the universe is on my shank list…

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I opened my email and found the universe knocking at my door with some advice.

Terrible Emails

So I need to scarf down a pizza and then rid myself of the muffin top it will surely give me? Which is a lot nicer thinking than the alternative; they know I am a chubby pizza lover who really should focus more on exercising.

 

 

I was awake for hours…

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Lola told me a joke last night. I was sleeping in bed and I felt a furry little face with pointy teeth right next to me.

Lola

Right.next.to.me.

So I wake up enough to ask Lola what’s up. She said to me, “It’s night-time and I’m not tired.”

And then she proceeded to pounce on me to get me to play. I cursed the gods that saddled me with an active bulldog when all of a sudden Lola yawned and said, “Never mind, I am pretty tired.”

She curled up and went right back to sleep.

World’s most terrible joke, ever.

P.S. I had to use an old photo since obviously I was not going to actually get my phone and take a photo at 2am. If I had done that, I’m sure the flash would have set off an hour-long play session involving Lola’s toys and my having to throw them.

I cashed out before any old ladies hit me with their purse…

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This weekend I went to a local casino with some friends. The place had tons of new machines and I walked around in a neon daze while music from all the machines assaulted my ears. And then I spotted it, the mecca of slot machines, The Wizard of Oz penny machine. And no one was on it. There was even a duplicate next to it so my friend could sit with me.

I happily started pumping money in.

Now, for those of you who don’t know me well, I like to root for the bad guys sometimes. Okay, most of the time. Like in that stupid Potter series, I rooted for Lord Voldemort. In Oz, I rooted for the wicked witch because Dorothy annoyed me. And Scarecrow, don’t even get me started on that guy! Love the movie, but like I said, I root for the villain.

So I’m sitting at this slot machine and I realize that I have to root for the Wicked Witch. You need three of her to get the flying monkey bonus. This game was designed with me in mind!

So I get the witch and win $24 thanks to her monkeys. Did you get that?! $24 on a penny machine while rooting for the bad guy. 

Because the bad guys always win in life.

The people of Earth have been warned…

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Lola woke up this morning with hatred, discontent and vengeance rolling though her veins. As I got Lola out of bed I started to hear the menacing music from Star Wars and realized that this is how Darth Vader probably felt right before he crossed to the dark side.

Lola was halfway down the hall when she uttered the words that struck fear in my heart.

“Darth Vader was an amateur.”

 

 

Lola’s going for the kill…

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“Okay, what’s the best way to conquer this ball? I could do a frontal attack with a 75% success rate. The hail mary might be the way to go here though. I have no idea what a hail mary is, but I assume it means the gods of war will help me out so I can get the ball…hail mary it is!”

Lola Ball

COME HERE YOU DELICIOUS GREEN BASTARD!!!

Lola is having hallucinations…

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Because the alternative to that is just too horrifying to contemplate. If it’s not hallucinations, it must be ghosts and I am not cool with ghosts hanging out in my bedroom. I love watching Ghost Hunters, but I’ll be damned if they’re in my home.

Every night when we go to bed, Lola has this new routine where she stares all around the top of the walls and lunges at things. Things I can’t see. She’s even growled a few times.

Last night was exceptionally bad. She was stressing me out so much that I called the vet to ask if they thought she needed to come in for a check up. They told me she was likely doing it to get attention.

Are you fucking kidding me?!?!?!

I kicked her rear end out of the bed, and the bedroom, and closed the door in her face. She started crying her guts out. After 20 minutes of Lola sobbing I let the little shit back in the room and put her on the bed. I told her to shut it and sleep.

She didn’t lunge at ghosts for the rest of the night. I warned her this morning that one more stunt like that and I’m giving her away to a new family. A family with little kids who will annoy the crap out of her and pull on her nubby.

Now I just need to get through this day without losing it and go to bed directly after dinner.

 

 

Damn you peer pressure…

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About a year ago, I was peer pressured into reading the 50 Shades of Grey series. I had held out because I loathe people telling me “you’ll love it” and then I hate it and I begin to question how we are friends. But I finally read it because everyone was talking about it and I kept missing all these inside jokes on blogs I read. In the interest of not looking like a moron, I decided to just read them.

And they were terrible! Sweet mother of God, they pissed me off as bad as that Bella did in Twilight. Weep, weep, weep, victim, victim, victim, whine, whine, whine. Shut up already before I shank your face into silence! I vowed to not watch the 50 Shades series to avoid being banned from the theater for screaming at the screen.

Yesterday I watched 50 Shades of Grey. Screw you peer pressure, and thank you internet community for all the inside jokes I didn’t get at all!

I sat down in the 21 and older theater and regretted not ordering some alcohol from the bar. I hoped the Icee would put me in a sugar haze so I could ignore the whining of a little girl who can’t do anything but let a man tell her what to do.

Then I was pleasantly surprised by the movie. It’s almost like the director and actors hated Ana’s personality as much as I did and they just changed it. I mean, she led Christian on a merry little dance and basically he became the whining, desperate, dork face.

The icing on the cake was Dakota Johnson, who played Ana. The actress had emotions. Real emotions. I was so happy I almost cried. I had no idea until that moment how scarred I was by Dead Eyes Stewart. A girl I had previously loved in Panic Room.

Thank you director. Was it the best thing I’ve ever seen? No. Did you take the dumbest, cringe inducing, serious lines from the book and use them as humor to your advantage? Yes. For that alone, you deserve some sort of award from your peers. Frankly, without you, we could have been staring at another series featuring a dead eyed actress and a guy deciding what is best for the girl and I would have run screaming from the theater.

To celebrate my not screaming out loud in the theater and embarrassing my friend, I’m going to gift myself with some new books on my Kindle.

 

 

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