There's a good chance these might be pjs...

I love it. Birchbox wants me to "shake up my beauty routine". That's mighty fucking presumptuous on their part. Clearly, they have not laid eyes on this tired ass ghost of girl past. I'd probably have to actually have a beauty routine (outside of shower, wash face, slap on waterproof shit, stretchy headband to hold back the bangs I never should have gotten & rake the fur into a haphazard ponytail...& by "haphazard", I mean that I probably should have brushed it at some point today)...it's kinda like "Why bother when somebody's just going to spit on me soon anyway?".

I keep hoping that Stacy & Clinton are going to ambush me when I'm walking MGD to school...things are pretty damned busted then. Or maybe Oprah stages a style intervention for me at swim team. Or maybe I win damned Powerball & go all new money crazy. If I had people, my shit would look amazing every day. Every DAY. 24/7 of obscene new hotness.

I've got people now, but they aren't helpers. The big one wants to fight me in Panera, fart on me & then yell, "YaFACCCCCE!" as the answer to everything. Well you know what? Chicken Butt. Frog punch to the shoulder. That's what you get.

The small one...not a helper. Voted "Most Likely Poke Your Eye Out & Spit In The Socket" 7 months in a row. Always got to be in the bathroom with you. Chewing on cords & biting giant holes in the roll of toilet paper. Licking the damned toilet. Trying to stand up in the wet shower. Disappearing down the hall & bashing the sliding glass door with a stick. Spitter. Screamer. Newly & quietly obsessed with wedging himself behind the couch & ripping the surround sound cables out.

Jesus is testing me.

Old & busted in yoga pants. Beat down expression? Check.

At least my nails are done, right? Because that's going to distract everyone from...this. Like a giant rack. JUST LIKE a giant rack. Or a goat man.

Pig in rain boots. That's pretty damned distracting, too.

Busted.

Longer, leaner, faster, stronger!
Ashley

Baaa Ram Ewe

Saw a guy that looked like a full-on minotaur goat man in reverse at the gym this morning. With white bike tights on. Everybody knows that if you're going to rock the spandex shorts, they have to be tiny and black, Goatee. Innocent bystanders running the risk of being bird watchers...BABY bird :-O

His eyes are up HERE, ladies & that peeps don't need a drink.

Baaaaaaa...

THAT and the prospect of being jacked up for a few days by lifting with friends made me miss Game Day this morning.  Which I don't like to do normally, but...beer...meat...cake...& the hub has a strict NFC rule, so got to keep my shit tight if I hope to weasel a sweet ass minivan out of him...seeing as how I can't finance one with PB&J...But football...I like football.  A lot.  I like beer and meat and babies that entertain themselves while the game is on.  Which is all day on Saturday.  Boat seems to know what's expected of him & quietly breaks non-essential shit.  Like the closet doors in the front hall, DAMN IT!  He knows I'm not getting up.  (I might get up) Spray nasty soy milk all over the front of the IKEA entertainment center that took 4 trips and Google translator to assemble?  Sure thing.  (I won't get up for that)

I smell poop & it ain't my damned turn ;-)

P.S. There is no defense anywhere near Athens, GA today.  UGA & UT have the most combined points in a SEC game.  Ever.  Richt & The Pants need to be ashamed of themselves.

P.P.S. 9:15PM is unacceptable as a start time for a game that's not on the west coast.  Why in the hell we left that up to Ole Miss is beyond me.  Ass.  Holes.  All of them.  It better be an ass whupping by halftime because that's probably as long as I'll make it.  Roll Tide zzzzzzzzzzzzz

Shit.  He's crawling under the couch (I'll lean over for that...if he gets stuck)...

He's stuck.

Longer, leaner, faster, stronger!
Ashley

Hi. My name is Ashley & I'm a cub scout mom.

I generally dislike cub scout meetings. 7:30 on a Friday night? Come ON. Granted, it ain't like I'd be out doing some cool shit, but I just wouldn't be doing THIS if I thought I could get away with it.

Tonight, however, took a definite dog leg towards enjoyable...

We finally got done with all the formalities & discussing who can't have gluten (& heads up - I don't care. You'd better bring Spotty his own snack when it's my week because I made ZERO effort to remember which one he was) & I'll be damned if tonight's thing wasn't on basketball. Which I KILL at.

Turns out I will push a kid down if he tries to drive the lane..."Goddamn it! You drive like my fucking grandma. Get that weak shit outta here."

Ok. So nobody drove the lane & I didn't get the chance, but still...I wanted to push the big one down who kept whining about getting sweaty. He also had blinky light mandals on. Strike 2. I wanted to smack his normal looking dad for allowing THAT to happen.

Best part was that we meet at a church...where other groups meet...at the same time...in fully lit rooms with lots of realllly big windows. I was being friendly & waved :-) Because I'm super friendly like that. I also stared at them - a lot, since I was bored as hell at first & I'm generally ok with other people being uncomfortable. "Oh shit...that's AA". FYI - They aren't into waving back ;-) Unfriendly bunch...

AA-holes ;-D

Longer, leaner, faster, stronger!
Ashley

Where's Thor when you need him?

I swear to God if I thought Little would be ok, I'd go to sleep in my folding chair.

53 more minutes to go.

Maybe we'll get some lightning. I already prayed for no football games here tonight & a close parking spot, so Jesus may be all done with me today. Might be like Aladdin - you only get 3 a day & I burned one earlier on this week's Bachelor Pad elimination. I should have been praying for these poor retarded people wearing pants & long sleeves that haven't heard that its a smooth humid 92*. I'm looking at one jackass wearing a damned sport coat right now...unless there's some goddamned magic in that Planet Smoothie cup that I am not aware of. Can't rule out magic. Or cocaine. Either way...

39 minutes...no lightning, yet. Running low on goldfish. Shit's going to go straight to unruly if we run out.

I should probably stop eating them...

Don't sit next to me. Don't sit next to me. Don't sit next to me. That's right, Swim Mom. Perch your irritating all-natural ass somewhere else. Keep it moving...away. And don't block my view of my kid doing his not-paying-attention (again) dance. Jesus.

22 minutes...nada. Looks like I'm SOL tonight. Sigh...

Longer, leaner, faster, stronger!
Ashley