You simply cannot go wrong with a post that includes Bob Ross and Chuck Norris.
Bucket Filler
1 hour ago
12/01/2009
11/30/2009
wahh...
I wanted my blog to look cute for the holidays (yes, I am whining about it. Hence the "wahh" in the title of today's post). But I don't know how to edit the template to make it look right. At least, I think it is the template I need to mess with. I changed the background by adding an HTML/Java Script page element thingy and pasting the code into that. And I changed the banner by uploading it from my desktop. But I don't know what to do about the template. Help me.
Until help arives (you've got to help, pretty please!), I will console myself with this:
Ahhh, that is better. Much, much better.
Until help arives (you've got to help, pretty please!), I will console myself with this:
Ahhh, that is better. Much, much better.
11/25/2009
11/24/2009
never thought i'd say that...
The Kids were playing with the newly crafted Nativity hand puppets yesterday. I may or may not have yelled said the following to my dear, sweet children:
"Baby Jesus was NOT a midget football player!"
"We do not use Baby Jesus to dive bomb!"
"The Wise Men are not The Three Stooges' long lost cousins."
“Mary and Joseph did not make a killing by using the animals in the barn as trained circus animals.”
“Baby Jesus DOES NOT DIVE BOMB!”
"Baby Jesus was NOT a midget football player!"
"We do not use Baby Jesus to dive bomb!"
"The Wise Men are not The Three Stooges' long lost cousins."
“Mary and Joseph did not make a killing by using the animals in the barn as trained circus animals.”
“Baby Jesus DOES NOT DIVE BOMB!”
11/17/2009
comparisons...
Cleaning up The Kids' vomit is bad. Cleaning up The Husband's is down right terrifying.
I hate stomach bugs.
The end.
I hate stomach bugs.
The end.
11/11/2009
100th post…
And it is time for whining.
I can feel your excitement through the screen.
I started writing this yesterday (with pen and paper!). I was in a really bad mood and I just wrote down whatever came into my head at the moment.
I can’t think.
Or spell.
Or write pretty.
I hate technical writing sometimes.
Too bad that is my job.
I want to go home and sleep.
I also want to magically lose 50 pounds without any effort.
I want my upper arm flab to disappear.
But I don’t want Madonna-scary looking arms either.
Shudder.
I want my pores to shrink into non-existence.
I’m 29 and I am so sick of having acne like a teenager.
I want someone to come and finish the downstairs of my house free of charge.
I’d also like someone to buy me a water softener.
And a gas-guzzling SUV that seats up to 7 passengers.
And a pony.
A pretty, pretty, pink pony named Sparkles.
With a custom made saddle.
And some matching boots.
I want a haircut that doesn’t make me look like the Little Dutch Boy.
I want the circles under my eyes to go away.
I am tired of looking like I lost a fight with Mike Tyson.
At least I haven’t had my ear bitten off.
I have had my butt chewed though.
That is almost the same thing, isn’t it?
I hate it when my boss comes in and starts screaming at me when he is really upset at someone else, but I just happen to be the closest target.
I hate it that the cleaning staff only empties the garbage can every other day.
I want a professional manicure and pedicure.
But I don’t want to endure The Husband’s teasing.
I have to still buy toys for Christmas.
Given the list of things The Kids want, I need about 10K to pay for it all.
I think they will get maybe 4 toys each.
And some clothes.
Because Mama loves clothes.
And shoes.
I need some chocolate.
I like the taste of Big Red gum.
But I don’t like how it seems to burn the top layer of my tongue off.
Tongue always looks like it is spelled wrong.
I found boogers smeared on the wall in The Kids’ bathroom.
I did not enjoy cleaning it up.
I still want a pony.
And I think I need a princess hat too.
I got a new calling at church.
I am not happy about it.
I don’t teach 3 and 4 year olds anymore.
Now I teach adults.
Why do people think I like teaching so much?
I really don’t think I do a good job at it.
If I did, I would have become a teacher instead of an engineer.
Maybe.
Teachers’ paychecks suck.
I like the money I earn.
Too bad most of it goes to pay for daycare and my student loans.
I wish someone could pay that off for me.
I wish it would hurry up and snow.
I am sick of the gloomy in-between fall and winter weather time.
Not that I am anxious to drive on the ice.
That is another word that looks like it is spelled wrong.
Anxious.
And ornery.
That isn’t spelled like it is pronounced at all.
I like saying the word spatula sometimes.
I don’t know why.
Cry.
Sigh.
Hi.
By.
Yeah, clearly I need the help of a professional. Anybody know anyone good (read: cheap)? :)
I can feel your excitement through the screen.
I started writing this yesterday (with pen and paper!). I was in a really bad mood and I just wrote down whatever came into my head at the moment.
I can’t think.
Or spell.
Or write pretty.
I hate technical writing sometimes.
Too bad that is my job.
I want to go home and sleep.
I also want to magically lose 50 pounds without any effort.
I want my upper arm flab to disappear.
But I don’t want Madonna-scary looking arms either.
Shudder.
I want my pores to shrink into non-existence.
I’m 29 and I am so sick of having acne like a teenager.
I want someone to come and finish the downstairs of my house free of charge.
I’d also like someone to buy me a water softener.
And a gas-guzzling SUV that seats up to 7 passengers.
And a pony.
A pretty, pretty, pink pony named Sparkles.
With a custom made saddle.
And some matching boots.
I want a haircut that doesn’t make me look like the Little Dutch Boy.
I want the circles under my eyes to go away.
I am tired of looking like I lost a fight with Mike Tyson.
At least I haven’t had my ear bitten off.
I have had my butt chewed though.
That is almost the same thing, isn’t it?
I hate it when my boss comes in and starts screaming at me when he is really upset at someone else, but I just happen to be the closest target.
I hate it that the cleaning staff only empties the garbage can every other day.
I want a professional manicure and pedicure.
But I don’t want to endure The Husband’s teasing.
I have to still buy toys for Christmas.
Given the list of things The Kids want, I need about 10K to pay for it all.
I think they will get maybe 4 toys each.
And some clothes.
Because Mama loves clothes.
And shoes.
I need some chocolate.
I like the taste of Big Red gum.
But I don’t like how it seems to burn the top layer of my tongue off.
Tongue always looks like it is spelled wrong.
I found boogers smeared on the wall in The Kids’ bathroom.
I did not enjoy cleaning it up.
I still want a pony.
And I think I need a princess hat too.
I got a new calling at church.
I am not happy about it.
I don’t teach 3 and 4 year olds anymore.
Now I teach adults.
Why do people think I like teaching so much?
I really don’t think I do a good job at it.
If I did, I would have become a teacher instead of an engineer.
Maybe.
Teachers’ paychecks suck.
I like the money I earn.
Too bad most of it goes to pay for daycare and my student loans.
I wish someone could pay that off for me.
I wish it would hurry up and snow.
I am sick of the gloomy in-between fall and winter weather time.
Not that I am anxious to drive on the ice.
That is another word that looks like it is spelled wrong.
Anxious.
And ornery.
That isn’t spelled like it is pronounced at all.
I like saying the word spatula sometimes.
I don’t know why.
Cry.
Sigh.
Hi.
By.
Yeah, clearly I need the help of a professional. Anybody know anyone good (read: cheap)? :)
10/31/2009
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