Welcome to Snarkfest

Welcome to my snarky corner of the web. Join me as I discuss everything from wine to chocolate. There may be a few other topics mixed in there too. I talk a bunch about my amazing offspring, 19 and 17. I sometimes go on and on about my secret crush on the amazing Mike Rowe. I talk about things that irritate me or things that make me happy. Sometimes I just talk to hear myself talk. Feedback is always appreciated but please make sure it's respectable. No nudity or profanity. I'm the only one allowed to be profane. But any and all snark is welcome and appreciated!

Wednesday, August 29, 2012

Snarkfest, delivered hot and fresh to your inbox!

With my DEEPEST apologies to anyone who had subscribed to Snarkfest when I was using Tumblr, I deleted all 3 of those subscriptions (sorry Mom, sorry Aunt Irene and sorry random reader) because as I tried to add the 'subscribe' widget here on Blogger, I kept messing things up. It's how I roll. Sue me.

So anyway, I deleted those, added the widget here on the ol' Blogger site and I see that I do actually have a few subscribers, which is cool, but have no idea how they subscribed, which makes me scratch my head. Anyway, my point (and yes, I DO have a point) is that now there's a spot where you can click, type some screwed up letters and once you get the verification email, voila! I'm in your inbox! And really, who WOULDN'T want a hot, fresh load of snark in their inbox?? Snark is fun! Snark is good! Snark rules!! Snark is colorless and odorless and won't leave a mark on your coffee table.

So go ahead, subscribe and I promise I'll use my snark ONLY for good and never for evil. I won't ever spam you. I won't ever overload your inbox. I'm not that good, trust me. See how long it took me to get THIS shit figured out?

Cue the pic of the adorable baby scratching his head. Not my kid.
Pic courtesy: neotechproducts.com

Monday, August 27, 2012

Following the band, suffering the mom-guilt....

This past weekend was a whirlwind. I had tickets to see Duran Duran at the new Ovation Hall at Revel, Atlantic City's newest place to go to lose your shirt. We found out while we were eating dinner that the show was not going to happen because Nick Rhodes, the keyboard player, was hospitalized for exhaustion. Pardon my snark here for just a second, but really? Exhaustion? The man stands behind a Macbook and presses keys. If they told me he was hospitalized for carpal tunnel, or a hangnail, or hell, even arthritis, I'd totally get it. But exhaustion? The hardest he works at each show is coming up with new reasons why 'The Reflex' won't use it. And taking pictures of the audience when he's not pushing buttons on his Macbook.

We do know that the 'nana broche' he wears on his top button is pretty heavy, so that might explain it a bit:
Nana Broche - Image courtesy: Tampa Bay Times



Ok now that I'm sure I've pissed off a ton of Nick Rhodes fans, I want you all to know that I do love him, he's a wonderfully talented keyboard player, he is charming and smells wonderful in person and looks better in full makeup than I do. I do wish the best for him and a speedy and full recovery, truly I do. And I'll share this blog that was just shared with me to show you that I DO truly love Nick, and that I'm NOT a horrible fan who is pissed off at the band for the cancellation. I'm honestly not the least bit upset.

My POINT in all of this is that the show was cancelled. But while we WERE disappointed, we made the best of it. After all, the group that I had met up with hadn't been together since we all traveled to the Foxwoods LAST April to see....Duran Duran perform there. Seeing a trend? Yes, we're hopeless Duranies and we have formed a huge bond through the band. And even if the band doesn't show up, if we're together, we're going to make the best of it. I met a few new friends, and got to spend time with some great friends I've known for well over 7 years. AND we did managed to hang out with some of the band, because let's face it, they had no other plans once the show was cancelled. The backup singer, the lovely Anna Ross bought me a drink, the lead singer Simon LeBon proved, yet again, what a douchebag he is. We've begun referring to him as LeDouche, or even better, Zack Galifinackis. Twins, separated at birth? You decide:

Courtesy: picgifs.com

Courtesy: Kathy Murphy
All kidding aside, we all needed this time to get away and relax, away from our normal jobs, our normal life, our kids, our houses, our pets, our routine. We don't do it often enough. We all need to have our fun. Our children have fun daily. And if we aren't enjoying ourselves on occasion, we tend to get cranky and grumpy, easy to piss off. So we really shouldn't feel guilty for taking a weekend and living like a rock star. Hell, we shouldn't even feel guilty when we take an HOUR to spend alone. But we do, don't we? We as women tend to feel guilty for treating ourselves. Don't tell me you don't feel guilty if you go out and buy something nice for yourself, knowing full well that little Janie needs socks for soccer or little Jackie needs a new pocket protector for his nerd shirt. You do! Don't lie! We ALL feel guilty if we do something for ourselves. And we SHOULDN'T!

When my husband left his job to finish school, he was home with the kids more, which freed up more of MY time, and I used that time to my advantage. I started running. I ran like a maniac while he wasn't working. I lost 60 lbs. in about a year. I felt great, I looked great, I wasn't (as) dumpy anymore, and it was all because I took that time for me. I had the free time because he was there to help out. I didn't feel guilty, because he encouraged my running, my weight loss, and loved the results.

Then, 13 months after he left his job, he found another, much better job. I love that he's back to work. I love that he's doing something that he loves to do. But gone are the days when I could go out and do a 10 mile run during basketball or volleyball season, because I'm the one that needs to be there at the kids' activities. His commute no longer allows him to be present for some of the things that he was on hand for for all that time. Don't get me wrong, I swear I'm not complaining. Really! I'm not! But my running has been cut back tremendously, and I've put back about 30 of those pounds that I had lost. It's no one's fault but my own. I'm taking the rap for this. It's all my doing. And when I have the choice of doing a 3 mile run with my daughter or a 10 mile run with my running buddies, my allegiance now lies with spending that time with my daughter. She's a sophomore now and time is going by so quickly that I'm afraid I'll blink and tomorrow she'll be graduating and going away to college. She still likes me, still wants to hang out and run with me, which is freaking awesome, because I know that's not always going to be the case. At some point, she's going to prefer hanging with her friends instead of with me. And I totally get that, but in the mean time, I want to hang on to that precious time, that special time that we spend together. So there in lies that fine line. That mommy-guilt line.

I never want to be 'that woman'. The one who resents her family, her life, because she never got to do the things she wanted because she devoted her life to her husband and children, ensuring that their lives were wonderful and all the while doing without, herself. I don't want to lose me. I'm so lucky that I have the opportunity to spend time watching my beautiful girls grow into amazing women, I'm beyond lucky to have a husband who, after almost 18 years of marriage, still loves me as much as he does, and the fact that he understand my need to retain my sense of self and get away from time to time to do things for myself makes me luckier than any lottery winner.

Wednesday, August 22, 2012

Are you effing kidding me??

I read a blog a few weeks ago (I apologize, I cannot remember whose blog it was) about a 16 year old girl who was sexually assaulted, then criticized for Tweeting the names of the creeps that did this to her when they were found guilty, but since they were minors, their names were not made public. I thought, you know what? Those asshats deserve to have their names made public for what they did to her. KNOWINGLY did to her. While she was passed out. Now, she's not completely innocent in the grand scheme of things. She's 17 (16 at the time of the assault) and was participating in underage drinking, but because she over-indulged and passed out, did that give ANYONE the right to sexually assault her, take pictures of her and post said pictures on the internet? I don't fucking think so. 

Now she is being held in contempt of court for Tweeting the names of her attackers. According to this article from the Huffington Post, she's being threatened with jail time for making the names of those scumnuggets public. I'm sorry but boo-fucking-hoo for them. Here's a quote from one of the attacker's lawyers:

"He's had to move," David Mejia, the attorney for one of the attackers, told The Huffington Post. "He has lost all the potential that was there. He was attending high school and was kicked out. He was on course to a scholarship to an Ivy League school to play sports and that may be jeopardized. He's in therapy. He's just overwhelmed and devastated by what started from the conduct of this young girl saying false things as she did."

Mejia filed a contempt motion against Dietrich in July. She had tweeted the names of two teenage boys who assaulted her back in August 2011. 

After naming the boys, Dietrich, then 16, tweeted, "I'm not protecting anyone that made my life a living Hell."

Now keep this in mind. In June, these boys confessed to felony sexual abuse and misdemeanor voyeurism. They CONFESSED to felony sexual abuse. Whether or not it was 'legitimate' rape, penetration or not, they CONFESSED to felony sexual abuse. They CONFESSED to criminal sexual abuse or touching, according to the Huffington Post article. If criminal sexual abuse is this year's charge and they get away with it because they are minors, what's to stop them next time from following through with actual 'legitimate' rape?

Excuse me for just a moment for my forthcoming tirade.

Are you kidding me? One of the boys is trying to hold HER in contempt of court because HE touched her inappropriately while she was passed out??????? He was on course to attend an Ivy League school to play sports and that may be jeopardized??? HE'S in therapy??? SHE ruined HIS life?? Are you fucking kidding me??????? There aren't enough "are you fucking kidding me's" for me to wrap my head around this.

The boy's lawyer was hoping she would show remorse or offer an apology? What???? I'm sorry I Tweeted your name announcing to the world that you're a pervert who sexually assaulted me??? Is that a good enough apology? That boy doesn't deserve an apology, he deserves to be put in jail where he becomes the bitch of a 300 pound inmate named Tiny, and gets traded around the cell block for a pack of smokes. Daily.

I'm sorry if anyone is offended by this, but in my opinion, these boys, minors or not, KNEW what they were doing and deserve what they get. Savannah's only mistake, in my opinion, was underage drinking to the point of passing out. She deserved to get in trouble at the hands of her parents, she deserved the hangover she probably suffered, but she did absolutely NOT deserve to be sexually assaulted. NO one deserves that. Except the jackasses who did this to her. Sadly, they will not serve one minute in jail. They may have their future at an Ivy League college put in jeopardy. Isn't that a shame?

Sunday, August 19, 2012

Big Time Monkees?

Big Time Rush concert tonight. As God as my witness I WILL remember to bring earplugs. I can't believe my husband decided not to join us.

Carlos, Kendall, Logan & James. Why in the world do I know their names???
Photo courtesy:  ontheteenbeat.blogspot.com

I find their show to be humorous, kinda like the Monkees back in the day. And NO I'm not old enough to remember the Monkees in first run. I watched re-runs, thankyouverymuch. My favorite Monkee was Mickey Dolenz, followed closely by Davy Jones. Not sure who I would associate with whom when it comes to comparisons of BTR and the Monkees. Logan is the smart one, as was Mike Nesmith, although Kendall seems to be pretty level headed. Carlos is most definitely the Peter Tork of the group. James is hard to say. James is pretty dim but he's pretty, well, pretty. Davy was the pretty one but he wasn't nearly as dim as James is. And Mickey? He was always the funny one. All of these BTR guys seem pretty funny on the show, so it's hard to say which one could be the 'Mickey' of the group.

Who was your favorite Monkee? Or, who is your favorite from BTR? Moms? Girls? Chime in here. I know you're out there. I can hear you breathing. Heavily.

Google +, or how to really piss me off

Really Google +? Oh, you should upgrade! Upgrade to make your life easier! I call Bullshit. I noticed a typo in my profile (which was just fine BEFORE I upgraded to your stupid Google +). When I upgraded, I got some stupid message saying that my profile would have to be re-typed, so I said, okay, I can handle that. Except apparently I can't. I typed that I have '2 hair-assed dogs' instead of '2 hairy-assed dogs'. Now I realize that in the major scope of things, it's not really that big a deal. But I hate that shit. And now it's scratching my eye. Every time I am on my home page, it screams at me: "YOU'RE AN IDIOT!!"

So I tried to fix it, which only ended up pissing me off even more. The edit page comes up and says 'click on the part of your profile that you want to edit' but it won't allow me to edit 'hair' to 'hairy'. So now, every time I go to my home page, I'm reminded of what an idiot I am.

My husband said that it's not true anyway, Cosmo's not hairy. Au contraire, mon ami. Cosmo actually sheds more than Henry and trust me, Henry is a HAIRY-ASS dog.


Anyway, I digress because I got carried away with how adorable (and freaking hairy-assed) my dogs are. My point was that with Google + I can't figure out how to edit my stupid mistake. So for now, I draw your attention to my profile on the right and how leaving out the 'y' in hairy has annoyed me a little and how upgrading to Google + has NOT made my life any easier.

Thursday, August 16, 2012

Your pet hates you.

Let's get one thing straight right now. If you dress up your dog, your cat, your hamster, guinea pig, giraffe, Beta fish, whatever, he HATES you. He wants to tear out your throat. He wants to eat your liver with some fava beans and a nice Chianti. Seriously.

My friends who know me well will tell you, I absolutely HATE to see animals dressed up. If they had thumbs and the ability to call a lawyer, they'd sue your ass in a heartbeat.  They only put up with you dressing them up because they don't have thumbs and can't feed themselves. Do they chew on your shoes? Do they pee or poop in the house? It's most likely due to the fact that at some point in time, you've done this to them:


This is not a happy kitty.
Photo courtesy: TrendHunter.com




Admit it, if someone did that to you and you were powerless to fight back or stand up for yourself, you'd want to kill them too. I'm not exactly sure why one does this to an animal. It's not funny (okay it's a little funny) but it's also borderline animal cruelty. Admit it. You're laughing at this cat. He's looking at you and in his little cat brain he's saying "Could you please have at least removed the Goddamn tag before you put this shit on me?? Who the hell am I? Minnie Pearl???" Because he knows who Minnie Pearl is. No self-respecting, costume wearing cat wouldn't know who Minnie Pearl is.

Then we have this poor little bastard:

Kareem Abdul Japug
Photo courtesy: VH1 (don't ask)

Seriously, what kind of sick bastard does this to a dog? Doesn't his owner know that he's not only going to get the shit kicked out of him by all the other neighborhood dogs, but he'll need therapy too because white pugs can't jump. For chrissakes, everyone knows that. Wrong. Just so wrong. If you do this to your pet, you deserve for him to jump on your balls and make you spill your beer all over yourself.

I have no words for this picture:

Seriously, wtf is that?  Photo courtesy: dailymail.co.uk



And this poor little bastard is wishing those other two heads were actually REAL so he'd have some help when he climbs up on the bed while you're sleeping and tears your arms off and beats you to death with them:

"I am not amused, asshole." Photo courtesy: funnyfidos.com
This may just be the first time in recorded history that dog and cat came together in unison and killed their master in a manner far too graphic for this family blog:

Yes, fluffy, sadly you do. Photo courtesy: Kodak.com

This dog, through no fault of his own, looks like a giant asshole. He knows it, the other dogs in the neighborhood know it. Hell, even his master knows it, yet still, he wears this costume. But don't worry, this flying Fido will have his revenge. When you go to sleep at night, he will use one of those wings to break into the refrigerator, he will eat every last grape in the produce drawer and he will commence to shitting all over the house. From one end of the place to the other, you will wake up to the glorious smell of dog shit and you will regret ever making him wear this dreadful outfit:

I am NOT a pilot, I am an angry dog. Photo courtesy: nynerd.com
These crime-fighting cats will exact their revenge on you when you least expect it. You have dressed them up like superheroes, but I can assure you, if you were ever in need of help, these furious felines would be the LAST ones you should look to for assistance. In fact, I'm thinking if the Riddler or the Joker had you tied up on railroad tracks and a train was coming, these kitties might just be driving the train:

Superheroes. No. Super pissed off? You betcha!  Photo courtesy: cdn.hahajk.com
I could go on and on, but I'm guessing you get the message. For the love of all that is holy, STOP the madness. If you think your pet would look adorable in pink tights and a tutu, think about how YOU would feel if someone bigger and stronger came in to your house and put pink tights and a tutu on your ass. Would YOU like it? Probably not. Give your pet that same consideration. And if you WOULD like it, well, that's a blog post for another day.

Wednesday, August 15, 2012

A-HA moments and cookie whores.

Last week while 14 was at Cross Country practice, I decided that since we are broke, I'd do my grocery shopping at the local Aldi, rather than at Food Kitty where we usually shop. Very few name brands there at Aldi, but their prices are freaking awesome. I ended up with 12 boxes of cereal, and each box was under $2.00. Sure I took my chances on off brands (Millville brand cereal anyone? Anyone?)  I bought two boxes of fake Lucky Charms. This was Monday at 7:00 p.m. By Tuesday morning, both boxes were gone. Apparently the fake Lucky Charms were a hit. It was also the first time that 14 had ever actually eaten the actual cereal WITH the marshmallows. EUREKA!! "Mom, if you actually eat the cereal WITH the marshmallows it's AWESOME!!" Normally 14 picks out the marshmallows and eats those first, THEN eats the cereal bits. It's amazing what can happen when you come out of your box.

Sadly, though, not all of those cheapy boxes of cereal were good. They have a fake Banana Nut Crunch cereal (Post makes the real version and it's great) and it tastes a lot like ass, only nastier. Not that I've actually eaten ass, but if I did, I'm guessing it would be a step up from this fake banana shit. It's all granola with dehydrated banana chips mixed in. Separately, they may taste somewhat decent, but put them together and charge $1.60 per box, and you've got a box of ass. Seriously. If I'd actually spent on this crap what Post normally charges for the real stuff, I'd shit out a puppy. And it would taste better than this cereal. Lesson learned.

A few weeks ago I was talking to my friend Lorrie about marketing my blog a bit better. I had talked with Jen, the head mistress over at People I Want To Punch In The Throat and she suggested doing the Blog Hop at You Know It Happens At Your House Too. Prior to that, I had basically whored myself out to all of my Facebook friends, begging them all to not only read my blog but to post the link on their pages too, thereby getting me more traffic to my site. I had not developed a Facebook page or a Twitter account for the blog but when Jen suggested I do that, I thought, 'GEEZ! Why didn't I think of that??' Another a-ha moment. Which brings me to the conversation with Lorrie I mentioned way back at the beginning of this paragraph. When she and I were discussing my whoring myself out to all my friends for my blog, she mentioned that all Girl Scout moms whore themselves out when it comes time to sell Girl Scout cookies. Wow, I had never thought of that but it's true! It's not the actual Girl Scouts that do most of the selling, it's their moms who become cookie whores. How many of us bring the order form to work and go around, desk to desk, unbuttoning the top three buttons, leaning casually forward so that just a hint of clevage is showing and ask in our most sultry voice, "hey, wanna buy some cookies?" Okay that might not actually work with our female co-workers but it sure does get the men to buy them by the case. Yes, we moms will go the extra mile to make sure little Suzie gets to go on that end of the year horseback riding trip.


Monday, August 13, 2012

Let's see if my kids really pay attention to my blog

Guess who just bought 3 tickets for this Sunday night's Big Time Rush concert in Bristow, Virginia?? Guess whose rooms will have to be SPOTLESS if they actually WANT to go to this Big Time Rush concert on Sunday night???


Ok, now I wait and see if 14 & 12 really do pay attention to my blog OTHER than to see if I'm ragging on them.

Sunday, August 12, 2012

Sunshine Blogger Award! (that's right, Snark-shine)


It is with great pleasure that I accept the nomination for the Sunshine Blogger Award that I received from the awesome, beautiful and talented Christina at Riding the Crazy Train: Diary of a Delirous Mom. Go visit her site, she's very cool and very funny! In accepting this award, I promise to continue to be a little ray of snark-shine in everyone's life. I'm also very happy to be able to nominate some fellow bloggers for this award, because they bring a smile to my face with each blog they post. Scroll down and see who I've nominated and please go visit them and tell 'em Snarky sent you.





The Rules:

1.  Include award logo in a post or on your blog page.
2.  Answer (10) questions about yourself (*the same ones that I answer below). 
3.  Nominate 10-12 other fabulous bloggers.
4.  Link your nominees to the post and comment on their blog, letting them know about the award.
5.  Share the love and link the person who nominated you.


Ten Questions and Answers:

1. What would you most like to change about yourself?

I would love to be able to change my hair and love it every single day. I hate my hair and if I knew I wouldn't frighten small children and baby animals, I'd shave my head. 


2.  What is your theme song?

My theme song would probably be the theme from Mission Impossible. I wake up every morning, don my black tights and turtleneck, put on my repelling gear and make my way downstairs to try to please everyone in my house. It isn't always easy and it isn't always fun but it is SURELY impossible.

3.  One part of your life, a memory, action, etc. that you wish you could surgically remove from your brain?

The night before my friend K left for college. My friend D and I were dallying in something we should not have been dallying in and I ended up with my head in the toilet at McDonalds as K was profession her never-ending love and friendship for me. It was an ugly night and an even uglier morning. Let's just say sloe gin shots with Michelob chasers is NEVER a good idea.

4. What generation do you wish you had been a part of?
  
I was born in the 60's, lived through the 70's and developed my musical taste in the 80's, so I'm going to say I was a part of the generation that I was supposed to be and I wouldn't change a thing. Except jelly shoes because I always got blisters from those.

5. What was your favorite childhood toy?

Hands down, my Barbie three-story Townhouse with working elevator!!! 


6. What is your favorite housecleaning chore?

Seriously? This isn't a real question is it?


7. Do you Twitter?

Oh I'm a Twit alright. I'm a Twit on a daily basis. 


8. Any goals?

Lose the extra pounds I put on, keep them off, continue running, cure cancer, ya know, the usual.


9. Do you really drink margaritas all the time?

No, red wine. I drink red wine all the time. I drink it on a plane, I drink it in the rain, I drink it on a boat, I drink it with a goat. I drink it all the time, I love to drink red wine.


10. What is the ugliest car you've ever driven and were embarrassed to be seen in?

My first car was a '74 Chevy Vega, grey with red wheels. I had to stick a pencil in the carburator every time I needed to start it. Yeah, good times. 


My Sunshine Nominees are:

Midlife Mayhem
Busymee
Ninja Mom
There Must Be A Third Option
Rubber Chicken Madness
Crazy Mama Drama
Abby Has Issues
Twins Happen
The B(itch) Log
The Fordeville Diaries
Not My Mom's Blog




Thursday, August 9, 2012

Rushers, Directioners, Duranies, OH MY!

Back in the day, we called ourselves Duranies. We followed the Fab Five in every piece of reading material we could get our hot little hands on. Remember Tiger Beat? Teen Beat? Bop? Rolling Stone? (yeah, that's still around). We Duranies had to WORK to find out the latest on our heartthrobs back then. Google? There was no Google! Cha Cha was a Latin dance. We were JUST getting into push button phones, for God's sake. We didn't have computers, internet, cell phones, texting, iPads, i-anythings!! We had to walk 10 miles in the snow, up hill, both ways, barefoot to buy magazines and darn-it, we liked it! Sure, every so often MTV would throw us a bone and have an interview with our boys and we'd all set our VCR's and watch them over and over. That was OUR Youtube. Pfffft. 'Friday Night Videos' was the shit and you watched it EVERY FRIDAY NIGHT just hoping they'd show your favorite band's video. And you checked MTV every chance you could get because back then the M actually stood for 'MUSIC' and not 'Manure' 'Malarky' or 'Merde'. 

Today, you can get information on your favorite band in less time than it took me to type this sentence. And these kids have NO idea how lucky they are. God, I know, I sound just like my mom did when she used to tell me how lucky we had it because we had a car with air conditioning and pleather seats! When SHE was a kid she rode in the rumble seat and she liked it!

Oh sorry, back on topic. My kids now can access any website at any time and see their favorite bands, Big Time Rush and One Direction. They are now considered "Rushers" and "Directioners". One Direction, for those of you who are living under a rock with my mom, is the NEW Fab Five. The next best thing. This is the nickname they have for themselves: Directioners. And they apparently take that nickname very seriously. Case in point: Last night 12 was on the computer and 14 was texting way later than her cutoff time of 10:00. And 12 kept calling 14 over to see what Louie's new haircut looked like or what someone was saying about Niall. Apparently, some absolutely INSANE chick on 1D's FB page (stay with me here mom: One Direction's Facebook Page) had the absolutely audacity to say she loved Harry and Zayn but didn't really care for Niall. "Well then she's not a Directioner!" I heard 12 say, and 14 agreed profusely! Apparently, there is a rule written somewhere (maybe it's tattooed on Harry's skull?) that in order to qualify as a Directioner, you MUST love ALL 5 MEMBERS of the group!!! Disliking one is the equivalent of disliking ALL 5 and you will have your Directioner club card taken away and you will be forced to listen to.....ugh, the Jonas Brothers.

Yes, apparently they're a little more strict today then they were back when I was a Duranie. Back in MY youth, you didn't HAVE to like all 5 members to be in the club. Hell, I never could STAND Andy Taylor. He was my least favorite of the Taylor brothers. I always wanted to take scissors to that nasty, greasy little ponytail of his and run off with Simon LeBon, spend hours laying on the beach drinking Pepsi and mocking Andy. (ok I was 16, and not yet the sleazy stalker I am today). That was the beauty of being a Duranie, you could like whomever you wanted and NOT like whomever you wanted and you weren't judged. There were 5 of them, PLENTY to go around.

Not today. Today, if you don't like one, you OBVIOUSLY don't like ANY of them. They apparently come as a package deal. It's the Directioners code.

I'm not sure if the same is true for Rushers, because my girls, while still very much in love with BTR, are more serious about the 1D rulebook. Is it POSSIBLE that you can LIKE the way James looks but hate the nasally, whiney sound that comes out of his mouth? I don't know. But if that is not the case, apparently I'm out of the Rushers club.

Tuesday, August 7, 2012

Music, Music, Music

I'm considering moving my blog from Tumblr over here to Blogger, so please bear with me as I may or may not make the transition. As an introductory blog, I'm digging up a blog from May 25th. This wasn't that long ago, I know, but it was one of my favorite blogs and I'm putting it here, just in case there's a person out there in Blogville who hasn't read it yet.

So today's topic is music. Good music. Bad music. Music in general.
As parents, we've tried to provide a wide variety of musical interests to 14 & 12. We play a huge variety of music in our house (on iTunes, CD, DVD, etc). My kids have listened to Bach, Chopin, Creed, Beach Boys, Grateful Dead, Beatles, and Frank Zappa. We've taken them to see Paul McCartney, Billy Joel, and The Police in concert. And I've taken them to Duran Duran (couldn't drag Don kicking and screaming to that one). And I've taken them to see Miley Cyrus, Big Time Rush, Hot Chelle Rae and One Direction (good GOD why didn't I remember my ear plugs for that one???) And I have to say, their taste in music isn't all that bad. (They enjoy Nikki Minaj's 'rap', I wanna find a pencil and jam it so far into my ear that I can actually erase the sound she makes). When I hear "Let's go to the beach, beach..." I can't get to the dial fast enough to change it before I have to vomit. But for the most part, their choice in music doesn't suck.
Hot Chelle Rae opened for Big Time Rush the first two times we saw them (yes, we've seen them three times now). And they were actually really good. The second time we saw them, the lead singer, Ryan Follesse wore a shirt that said Van FU*%@% Halen but we were so far away from the stage it could've said Elmo for President and we wouldn't have known the difference. But I digress. Their music was fun and enjoyable. So much so that I actually made my own Pandora channel with their music. I actually downloaded a bunch of their songs (yes, I paid for them all) and turned both girls onto the stuff they hadn't heard before. Listen to I Like It Like That and tell me your not moving your foot or nodding your head to the beat. HOWEVER when New Boyz start singing, go make a sandwich or something. Because this is something that bugs the crap out of me. 12 and I were driving yesterday and she said something that I've been thinking forever. Why do they take a good song and then ruin it with some crappy rap thrown in? Seriously. Listen to Maroon 5's Payphone. Was Wiz Khalifa looking for a job and Adam Levine felt bad for him and offered him that crappy rap part? Because it ruins the song. The guy sounds like he never made it past the third grade. Sad really. But other than that, the song is really good.

Let's move on to songs that DON'T EVER need to be remixed. Gotye's Somebody That I Used to Know is the poster child for this. Good Lord, whoever came up with the idea to remix that and thump that bass a little harder should be beaten with an aluminum bat. Until they are unconscious. It's awful. And completely unnecessary. Why take a perfectly good song and ruin it?

Since it's my blog and I can post whatever I want, I'm going to let you listen to the GREATEST Duran Duran song (yes, in my opinion, you got a problem with that??) ever made. Come Undone is, by far, the sexiest song Simon LeBon has ever written.  If you don't think so, tell me why. Then go hit yourself in the head with an aluminum bat. Because you're wrong. 
Now, can I just tell you how I get down on my knees every night and thank Jesus that my girls don't listen to Justin Bieber?? They'd rather listen to Billy Joel's Downeaster Alexa than Boyfriend. And for that, I'm going to start giving them an allowance. Next week.

So I'm a firm believer in providing my kids with a varied musical experience so that they can make good, educated choices in music and not come home wanting to dye their hair orange and start 'rapping' about going to the beach, beach.

I'd write more but now I have to go vomit.