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, 24 and 21. 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!

Tuesday, September 30, 2014

Remember when I almost died in a Goodwill dressing room?

Read about how I nearly died!

Remember back before I went to the blogging conference and I got stuck in a dress and I thought I was gonna die? No? Well you can read about it here at the Huffington Post's Comedy page!

Monday, September 29, 2014

30. It's a magic number....

Why is 30 a magic number? Well, Snarklings, I'll tell you. That's just how many pounds I've lost in the past 4 months. Yep, 30 lbs. gone!  And while I still have many more to go to reach my goal, I want to stop and celebrate this accomplishment. Every little bit helps in the struggle to lose weight, and being just a little older with a metabolism that's comparable to a snail wading through a sea of molasses mixed with peanut butter and a side serving of wet cement, 30 lbs to me is worth celebrating.

In 2010, I was at my lightest weight since, like, ever, and I was fit enough to run the Marine Corps Marathon. I had lost over 60 lbs before I ran that race and I felt great. And then, I put it all back on. The struggle is real, you guys, and it totally sucks balls. But it's my struggle and I'm taking the responsibility, because no one forced me to stop going to the gym, and no one force fed me Boston Creme donuts and Five Guys burgers. That was all me.

So it's back on the roller coaster I go, as I try to gain control once again of my eating and exercise habits. I've used several tools that have been extremely helpful. One has been the MyFitnessPal website, and another has been the DietBet site. I'm not getting paid by either of these folks but I'm just telling you that they have been integral in my success this time around. I have found that logging every single thing that I put in my mouth truly helps me keep control of my eating. And it's free, and if it's free, it's for me. The DietBet thing has been pretty useful because I've actually MADE money over the past 4 months. And I like money. Matter of fact, I've got another DietBet starting up this coming weekend. If you're interested in joining my game, it's a $25 buy in and your goal is to lose 4% of your starting weight in 4 weeks. Check out my game by clicking here and join if you'd like.

Have YOU lost weight? What helped? What worked and what didn't? Tell me your story.

Friday, September 26, 2014

What's with all the daddy-bashing??

I had dinner the other night with some of the most amazing and funny bloggers on the planet right now, and one of the topics we discussed between our nachos and hummus and salmon was dad-bashing. We talked about Emma Watson's brilliant UN speech and Mike Cruise of Papa Does Preach mentioned an article from Aaron Gouveia from The Daddy Files about this topic. If you haven't seen either post, go now. I'll wait here. Just remember to come back.

We good? Good. Because I've got something add to this topic.

Stop it. It's old. It's way old, and it's not funny anymore. It's stupid.

I'm speaking only from my personal experience here, I don't know your situation, and frankly, I don't care to. I just know that my husband and many husbands like him are more than qualified to care for their own children. And the notion that dads are 'babysitting' their own children or 'playing mommy' while mom is not around, it's old school. Dads are mocked, questioned or lampooned daily if they show up at the playground or the doctor's office with their child/children. "Oh, mom must be shopping, you have mom duty, huh?" Stop with the stupid remarks!

It's amazing to me that my husband and I even HAVE a second child  because after 17 was born, we both worked, and we worked OPPOSITE shifts so that we didn't have to rely on someone else to raise our kids. That was our personal choice, and don't start writing the hate comments. Childcare is expensive, yo! And why would we both work and have someone else care for the kid when we could be banking that money for their education (or our own personal retirement, whatever)??

I worked until 5:00, he drove the kids in, met me at work, I took the kids home and he went into work at 5:30. We had overlapping days off so we did get to spend time together. And he was home with the kids all day. I never once felt like he was incapable of being a good dad. Yes, they went to the park. Yes, he'd take them on errands. Yes, he'd take them to doctor and dentist appointments and guess what! They LIVED!

I hate to see dads being mocked for doing what they do, being dads. It's ridiculous, and it's a stigma.  It worked for Danny Tanner, Uncle Joey and Uncle Jesse on Full House, it worked for Paul Reiser and Greg Evigan on My Two Dads, and it worked at Casa Snarkfest. It works in real life. So stop the bashing of dads who are just being dads. No special occasion, just being a dad. Is that so wrong?

Wednesday, September 24, 2014

The Search for Happiness

Evening Snarklings! Late blog for me, but I wanted to share! Remember the post I did on being responsible for your own happiness? Well guess what! It's up on Huffington Post! Go check it out and please feel free to leave me a comment or share the post. Thanks!!!

Monday, September 22, 2014

My phone, the asshole...

Let me just start by telling you that my phone is an asshole. I'm not sugar coating it, the phone is an asshole. It's a monster, nearly indestructible. It's a Casio that sorta looks like a race car, with its own protective case. It's been dropped too many times to count, and KNOCK ON WOOD it has yet to break. But it's an asshole, nonetheless.

My phone, the asshole

Here's why: It restarts at the WORST. POSSIBLE. TIMES. Like seriously, life and death situations, it shits the bed. I was driving to a little Mexican place back in June. I had just picked up the adorable Kelly Fox from Foxy Wine Pocket, and along with my friend Mimzy from Showers in the Dark, we were heading to the Mexican place for a meetup with a bunch of other bloggers before we all headed to BlogU14. I had been instructed by the Waze GPS app on the monster Casio to make a right turn onto the tiniest street in the history of tiny streets. I went about 6 blocks on this tiny street and when I thought perhaps my Waze app had been smoking the crack pipe, I looked down at the phone, waiting to hear the next instruction. That's when I saw that my phone had restarted.

Are you fucking kidding me? Thank God I wasn't on a busy highway and possibly missed an exit. Eventually, the phone came back on, I brought up the Waze GPS app again and we were able to find the restaurant. "What awful luck!" I thought. Hope THAT shit never happens again.

Guess what.

I was driving to Arlington last night to meet up with some of my BlogU14 buddies for a mini-reunion, and fired up the Waze GPS app again on the old monster Casio. The longer I was on the road, the more I had to pee, until I thought I was going to end up peeing myself (should've worn my free sample of Depend, no lie). So I'm driving and driving and driving and the Waze app is telling me that I need to get off at the Shirlington Exit of I-395, and then make a right onto Campbell Ave. Easy enough. Except I did not see a sign for Campbell Ave. The sign said "Quincy Ave" NOT Campbell Ave. Not wanting to take my eyes off the road to check the map on the tiny GPS app I continued on, hoping that Campbell Ave was just around that next bend. I glanced quickly down Quincy Ave and saw the restaurant where we were scheduled to meet, but it was too late to turn. Apparently, that WAS Campbell Ave. It's just not MARKED Campbell Ave. I'll be calling the dumbasses responsible for that little faux pas.

At that point I had to pee like a freaking race horse, I've missed my turn and just up around that bend I mentioned was the entrance to get back on to I-395. The expletives that escaped from my mouth would make my mother wash my mouth out with soap.

The Waze app instructed me to get off at the next exit, which I did. I'm very good at following directions....when directions are actually being given. However, once I got off the exit, I heard nothing. Dead silence. I carefully looked quickly at the monster Casio for my next bit of direction, and it had, once again, restarted. I repeat, "ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME???" I am in Arlington. I have NOT ONE CLUE where I am, my bladder is full to overflowing, and my phone just shit the bed again.

Up ahead on the corner, I saw a BP station. Ah, sweet relief was now in sight. I figured I'd pull into the gas station, empty my screaming bladder while the monster Casio rebooted its damn self, and be back on the road in no time. Except when I got out of the car, I saw a sign on the front door of the gas station that said "Sorry, no public restrooms".



First those rat bastards have a blowout on their Deepwater Horizon rig, killing 11 people and basically killing the fishing and tourism industry for years in the Gulf of Mexico and NOW they don't have a public restroom when I need it most! Fuckers.

But, I digress.

I sat in the car until the monster Casio bitch rebooted and brought the GPS app back up and was instructed to make a right, then another right, and lo and behold, there was the garage of the place we were going to eat. As I carefully exited the car, I had to fight off two urges: one was the urge to pee myself, the other was the urge to go to the roof of the parking garage and throw the monster Casio off the roof to its death. But with my luck, I'd end up hitting an unsuspecting, innocent passerby on the street below.

To make a long story short (hahahahahahahahaha) I ended up being the first person there, which gave me plenty of time to pee and freshen up. I ended up having a really fun evening with Ashley from Big Top Family, Ashley from The Malleable Mom, Mike from Papa Does Preach, Jessica from Welcome to the Bundle and her lovely husband Shelby, who I'm convinced spent the evening playing footsie with Mike with their giant man feet.

A happy ending to a horrible GPS experience.

Friday, September 19, 2014

How I Know It's Time for the Dog to Get a Haircut...

I have two wonderful rescued dogs. Henry and Cosmo are brothers who we adopted from a local no-kill shelter about 6 years ago and they’ve brought so much joy into our house that it’s hard to imagine what life was like for us before they came to live with us. They came from a litter of 7 and they all had names that started with “H”. Henry, Humphrey, Hogan, Hannah, Heidi, Hector and Huey. Henry is, for all intents and purposes, a Henry. He’s like a little old man, he does his own thing, he gives not a single crap. Cosmo (the former Huey) is the exact opposite. Cosmo is a pleaser, he lives to make you happy. And he’s a special kind of dog. If Cosmo was a human, he’d have to wear a helmet. He’s such a sweet dog, they both are, really. But Cozzie is just a special kind of special. He chases lights on the wall, he will stare at dust as it rises in the sunlight and bite the reflection of the doorknob from the bathroom door to the hallway wall. There is a permanent line of bite marks on the wall, because Coz just can’t get it that it’s a light and he’ll never, no matter how many times he bites it, ever catch it.
My Cosmo. Just look at that sweet face.

But I digress. Cosmo is my short-haired boy. Henry is my higher maintenance boy. He’s got some Golden Retriever in him, so he’s got long hairy legs, hairy ears, a giant hairy tail, tufts of hair between his toes, a big fuzzy ass and did I mention long hairy legs?

His Majesty, Sir Henry of the Couch

Good, because that’s key to the story. I try to brush him and keep him knot free, but that’s not always possible with the crazy life we lead. So there are times when the boy has some knots and I try to work them out without having to cut his fur. Last week was one of those times. The dogs had been outside after a rain storm, and when they came in, Henry did what he normally does. He sat next to me, and nudged my arm off the computer mouse until I pet him. So I’m rubbing his side, trying to make him shake that leg and I felt something in his long leg hair, something that didn’t quite belong there. ‘Must be a knot, he’s got a bunch’ I thought, as I watched Criminal Minds and tried to maneuver the hair around this spot so that the knot would work its way out. But it wasn’t working. The ‘knot’ just refused to loosen up. I thought I was going to have to get the scissors. And then I looked at the ‘knot’. Turns out, not so much a knot. More like an earthworm. Yes, you read that right, Henry had an earthworm stuck to his fur under his leg. I’m not squeamish at all, in fact, I actually started laughing at this predicament. I asked my oldest to get a tissue as I struggled to get the earthworm to sit still, while trying to get Henry to sit still. A squiggly worm on a long haired dog, and neither will sit still. This ought to be fun! So I grabbed the tissue and lost the worm. Sounds like a horrible tequila induced nightmare, doesn’t it? I tried to get Henry to lie down on his side so I could get a clearer view of his underarm hair and try to find the elusive worm. But Henry would have none of it and I continued to struggle to find the worm. Thank goodness he’s a tan dog and not a darker red color like his brother Humphrey. I’d NEVER find an earthworm on a red dog.

After a good 5 minutes of searching and trying to keep Henry still, I found the earthworm and pulled. Guess what. Now we had 2 earthworms. My oldest was COMPLETELY grossed out at the half an earthworm, now squiggling around on the tissue, while I tried to capture the OTHER half of the now much shorter earthworm that was squiggling around in Henry’s hairy armpit.  Cue the Benny Hill music. Henry was struggling to get me out of his pit, oldest daughter was gagging over the two halves of an earthworm, both sides dancing the Macarena, husband and youngest child were laughing at me and Cosmo was chasing dust mites he saw glowing in the family room light. If Henry would just hold still, the dust mites would settle down and that would be one less thing to deal with. All I needed at that point was for the cat to come in and hack up a hairball. My night would be complete.

All good stories have a happy ending, and this one is no different. The cat didn’t hack, Cosmo didn’t catch any dust mites, Henry finally settled down long enough for me to catch the other end of that little bugger, and we went back to Criminal Minds. But we did have a good, hearty laugh at Henry and his little Wormy buddy. We’re taking Henry to the groomer on Monday.  

Wednesday, September 17, 2014

Blog Tag (or why I hate Dumbass News)

I don't really hate Toby, the Fearless Leader of Real Dumbass News but he tagged me in this shit and I either have to comply or become a Republican, so I really have no choice. So here goes. The deal is, I have to answer 11 questions he pulled out of his ass came up with, then tag some other hapless victims bloggers to participate. If they choose not to join in this stupid fun thing, I get to mock and ridicule them relentlessly until they quit the internet and become fishermen on the vast Bering Sea. I also have to post rules because rules.

1. Post these rules. (check)
2. Post a photo of yourself and eleven random facts about you. (eleven? Really?)
3. Answer the questions given to you in the tagger’s post.
4. Create eleven new questions and tag new people to answer them.
5. Go to their blog/twitter and let them know they have been tagged.

Me. At a Duran Duran show in CT. Don't ask about the horns.

Here are 11 random facts about me because you care. Shut up, I know you do.
1.  My brother Billy is a firefighter whom I idolize.
2.  My cat, also named Dumbass, just celebrated her 13th birthday. We didn't sing to her.
3.  She's pissed that we didn't sing to her (random fact about Dumbass, not really about me)
4.  I've struggled with my weight all my life. Running is the only thing that takes it off and keeps it off. I don't run enough.
5.  I hate posting random facts about myself. I'm not really all that interesting.
6.  I have a small crush on Drew Carey. I don't know why, he's not all that attractive but he's funny as hell.
7.  I'm having a hard time coming up with more random facts about me.
8.  I hated science and math in school. To this day I still hate math and science.
9.  I have a bunion on each foot. I had one surgically removed in high school. It came back. Bastard.
10. Seriously? I still have one more to make up? Shit.
11. I won the Nobel Prize for Snark in 1986.

Now for the 11 questions Toby came up with for me:
1.  Baseball or Football? 
          Baseball, what kind of no-brainer question is that? 
2.  Place you'd like to live other than where you live right now?
          If it wasn't so goddamn expensive I'd live in Hawaii. But it is. Florida has too many bugs. I'll 
          go with Hawaii, assuming I win the lottery (if I ever played the lottery). Yeah. Hawaii.
3.  Are you a nose picker?
          What the hell kind of question is that? Seriously, Redneck? Nothing more original? Like do I
          pick wedgies out of my butt in public? Come on, you can do better than that. 
4.  Would you rather be in politics or have a nasty case of the flu for 2 years?
          FLU all the way baby. Politics will kill you.
5.  Taco Bell or McDonalds?
          Taco Bell AND McDonalds will ALSO kill you, probably faster than politics. Going with Panera
6.  Would you rather spend summer in Texas or winter in Northern Canada?
          Did you know that I'm allergic to Canadian geese, mooses (meese?) and Molsen? I'mma have
          to go with Texas because two of my very good friends recently moved there and they have A/C
7.  If you could go back in time, what would you change about your life?
          Probably would've deleted the email from Toby and not had to complete this stupid activity
8.  If you could write a new law, what would it be?
          I'd create a law that ALL child sex offenders would have their genitals, hands and feet 
          removed and they'd be required to be lobotomized so they'd be drooling vegetables with 
9.  Kids or pets?
          You are completely out of ideas, aren't you Toby? I have both. Too late to go back and 
          make those decisions over again. Besides, I like them both. (both the dogs AND the kids).
10. Weirdest clothes you've ever worn?
          I once dressed as a pregnant nun for a Halloween party my old roommate and I threw. I'm
          surprised I wasn't struck by lightning that night. Pregnant nun drinking booze. SCANDALOUS!
11. Would you go streaking at a public event for $10,000?
          Trust me, people would pay me $10,000 to put my damn clothes back on. I'mma say NO.

And now for the 11 questions I'm pulling out of my ass making up for the next bloggers to answer:
1.  How do you feel about Toby from Real Dumbass News? He's a dipshit, right?
2.  How often do you change the sheets on your bed?
3.  What are your top 5 favorite blogs to read? (answer this carefully.......) :)
4.  Why did you decide to start blogging?
5.  If you could capture the attention of ANYONE in the world with your blog, who would it be?
6.  If you could sit down and have a cup of coffee/tea/booze with anyone, living or dead, who would it be?
7.  George Clooney or Brad Pitt?
8.  Who is the most famous person you've ever actually met and did you act like a complete moron 
      meeting them or were you completely cool and composed? (liar)
9.   Who is your girl crush?
10. What's the very first thing you'd buy if you hit the lottery and won $57 million?
11. What's MOST favorite word and your LEAST favorite word in all of the English language?

Alright, now it's my turn to piss off 4 of my very favorite bloggers who will end up hating me and making up random shit about me on The Google: The Pursuit of Normal, Big Top Family, Foxy Wine Pocket and Comfytown Chronicles, TAG!!! You're it!!

Tuesday, September 16, 2014

To tip or not to tip?

I've done my share of traveling. I am NOT, by ANY means, a world traveling globe-trotter, but I have stayed many a night in a hotel room. And I have discovered over the years that not many people know that it is customary to tip your guest room attendant, aka housekeeping, aka chambermaid. And I was kind of disappointed to hear that.

See, when I was growing up in Wildwood, NJ my mom had several jobs, one of which was a chambermaid. If you don't know what that means, I'll 'splain. A chambermaid is the person who comes into your hotel room while you're not there and makes your bed, vacuums your carpet, cleans the bathroom, changes out your wet towels for clean, dry towels, and generally makes your room pretty again (so you can come back in after a long day and trash it again). And they don't make a whole hell of a lot of money.

I just read this article on AOL and it got me thinking about this. It's a campaign by Marriott where they leave envelopes in the room to bring attention to the fact that the chambermaids are cleaning up after you and they deserve a little tip. $1-$5 per night is what they recommend, more if you're rich and staying in a higher end place. I think it's a FANTASTIC campaign because I don't believe these hard working women (and yes the majority of chambermaids are women) earn enough with the amount of work that they do. My mom would come home with stories of cleaning up blood, puke, crap, booze and other horrific stuff I don't even want to get into.

I'd like to know what YOU guys think. Do you tip when you stay in a hotel? Were you aware that it's customary to do so? Do you think they deserve it? Why or why not?

Next time you're in a hotel and you leave that towel on the floor, remember my mom. She'd have to bend over and pick it up. She'd have to clean up after you. Tip these folks. Do it for my mom.

Monday, September 15, 2014

Phones that die make me sad...

Hey Snarklings! Know what my kids got for Christmas last year? They each received a portable charger for their smart phones. Are you kidding me? They MAKE THOSE?? Holy crap, who knew? And what an awesome idea for when you're out and about and don't have a phone charger lying around when your smart phone craps the bed.

School's back in now, and life has once again gone crazy. Between working full time, kid's homework, after-school clubs and sports, band, volleyball, concessions...the list goes on and on! Even the most organized Mom (well, not so much ME, but other Moms who ARE organized) will tell you things can change at the last minute, and Moms of all people can't afford to run out of power...we mean for your phone or tablet, of course!

myCharge knows how important it is for you to stay charged and connected all day - and all school year - long, so they're giving the gift of portable power so you're never left in the red! To keep you charged and connected myCharge is giving 3 lucky winners each an iPad mini with a myCharge HUB 6000 portable charger! The amazingly compact Hub 6000 features built-in cables and connectors for smartphones, tablets, e-readers and more. Get up to 27 hours of additional talk time for your devices, as well as integrated, quick-charge wall prongs. The Hub series is commonly known as the “Swiss Army Knife of portable power devices.

Additionally, 40 winners will each receive an Energy Shot compact portable charger for their smartphones that delivers an additional boost when you need it most. They come in a variety of styles and can give you up to 10 hours of talk time! (Please note, smart phone not included in giveaway).

Moms are usually the crazy busy knuckleheads running around this time of year, but you DON'T have to be a Mom to win one of these bad boys! Dads, cousins, grandmas, Uncle Herb, single folks, sasquatches, you're all welcomed to enter to win (provided you follow all those rules down below)!

So Snarklings, stay out of the red this school year! myCharge is here to keep you charged and connected! For more information on products visit the myCharge website or follow them on Facebook. You can find myCharge products available at retailers such as Target and Kohl's.

Fill out the entry form below September 15, 2014 - October 15, 2014 for your chance to be one of 40 winners to receive an Energy Shot Charger (10 winners randomly selected each week) and one of 3 grand prize winners randomly selected on October 15, 2014 to receive one iPad Mini with a myCharge HUB 6000 portable charger. Entrants must be at least 18 years of age or older, must live in the United States and have a valid shipping address. See giveaway form for complete list of rules and details. a Rafflecopter giveaway This is a sponsored post from myCharge.

Friday, September 12, 2014

So there's this band...

Maybe you've heard of them? They're the Jefferson High School Cougar Marching Band, and they are awesome. And I'm lucky enough this year to have not one but TWO daughters in this band. How cool is that??

17 is my senior trumpet player, and 14 is my alto sax player. 14's been ready to march in this band since she was, like, born. Seriously. Because this band is the best in the state of WV. One of the largest competing marching bands in WV, they were crowned State Champions last year in competition. Don't believe me? Watch this. Here's just a bit of background on this performance: it was POURING DOWN RAINING and they gave their best performance of the season at this competition. No lie, it was iffy as to whether or not they'd even go on because of the weather. There was a break in the storm and they marched onto the field proudly. They had just begun to perform when the skies opened up once again and drenched them. They marched through the gales and kicked some serious ass.

Storms of Africa

Video courtesy of Vox Domini Channel - Youtube.com

Ok, so those 4 people in the front with the umbrellas? That's us, me, hubby, 14 and her bestie Hannah Banana. Just for the record, at 5:22 that's 17's little solo. And yes, that's me screaming right afterwards. You can hear me screaming A LOT in this video. And at 9:35? That's the 'company front' and I swear to God I get chills every single time I watch it. You hear me scream doubly loud after the company front. Yes, I'm a goober but also a damn proud mom.

That's my girl!

My point (and yes, I am getting to it) is that this band continues to increase in size (145 when 17 was a freshman, currently 172) and there seems to be no end in sight. We always say it, every year, that it takes a village to move this band. We are required to have 1 chaperone for every 10 students on trips, we require 4 buses PLUS 2 trucks to move all the equipment. It's crazy. But we LOVE it and we wouldn't have it any other way. When it comes to marching bands, "SIZE MATTERS".

This year's show is Romeo and Juliet: Undead. I've seen some of the rehearsals and it sounds like it's going to be fantastic. Both my girls are so stoked about it. I, however, will not watch a single halftime performance, because I work in the concessions stand at every home football game. Lucky for me and for the rest of the dedicated parents who work every Friday night home game, we do get to see our kids perform at band competitions, like the one in that video. It's really special for us, because we are so unbelievably proud of these kids and the hard work they put in all year to perfect their show. 

They're going to Disney!!

So why do I work in concessions instead of sitting in the stands watching? Because marching band ain't cheap, my friends. No sir. Band fees, instrument maintenance, band camp (no American Pie jokes please), and this year, "We're going to Disney World!" That's right, every 4 years, the band does one major trip, and how excited am I that it falls on a year when BOTH my girls are in the band? I'm freaking tickled. Seriously. But like I said, it ain't cheap. And by working in the concessions stand, we get a small percentage of the evening's profit, so we work to offset the cost of things. This year I'm thinking of taking a part-time job, but sadly, the only skills I have are blogging and wrapping up hot dogs. Any and all donations are accepted.

Know anyone hiring a hot dog wrapping blogger?

Wednesday, September 10, 2014

Dropping my pants...

You know the old saying what goes around comes around? Well guess what. It came around. And it bit me. For years I've mocked my neighbor, poking fun at her for her hot flashes, her house so cold you could hang meat in there. And then I started getting hot flashes. And for years I mocked those "Depends" commercials. Bladder control issues. BAH. Ridiculous. Who pees themselves?

Then I received an email asking if I'd be interested in a paid, sponsored campaign for Depend (no S, can you believe it? All this time I've been mocking it and I'M the one who's the dumbass for spelling it wrong.) AGAIN I mocked. Like I need to worry about bladder control. The lead in was something like "Did you know that an assload of Americans suffer from bladder control issues, and did you know that a buttload are under age 35?" I thought, wow, sucks to be them, and moved on to the next email. I'm nothing if not overly confidant in my snark, right.

So last week I was sick with a vicious cough. I mean sick to the point where I took off work and lay in bed and coughed from Friday to Monday. And while standing in the kitchen Sunday evening, I coughed so hard I peed a little. Nah, I thought, not karma. Not me. After a quick cleanup and change, I went about my Sunday night business, coughing all the way.

Flash forward to Monday morning. I was sitting at my computer and again, took a coughing fit so hard, I peed a little again. I looked over at my husband and said: "I think I was a little too quick to judge. Maybe I'd better check that email again." To which he responded something about getting me some Geritol and a new battery for my hearing aid. Bastard.

And now I'm readily admitting (albeit begrudgingly) that I jumped to an all-too-common conclusion: That only old people need Depend. Well guess what (yeah, I'm making you do a lot of guessing). I'm only 47 and have peed myself twice within two days' time. So my apologies, Depend, and to make up for my mocking, I'm sharing with you, my favorite Snarklings, the #DropYourPants for #Underwareness Campaign. It's about dropping the stigma of bladder control probs. A stigma that just last week I helped contribute to. Sorry, my bad.

Upon further investigation, turns out Depend isn't actually a big, bulky adult diaper. Nope, turns out they've streamlined these suckers, with more Lycra so they fit closer to the body and don't hang off you like this:

Image courtesy: Morguefile.com

And, to make it more interesting, this #DropYourPants for #Underwareness Campaign they've got going is going to raise some cash for some cool charities. Check out their website to learn more about the charities that Depend will donate $1 to for every photo shared or tweet or Instagram tagged with #DropYourPants  or #Underwareness to these charities, up to $3 million clams over the next 3 years.

Don't believe me about the fit? Get your own sample by clicking here. That's what you get for not believing me. So you'll see me tweeting about #DropYourPants and #Underwareness so that Depend will donate a few dollars. If you want to, you can do the same. Or take a pic with your pants around your ankles. Not like anyone will know it's you. Tag the pic with #DropYourPants and #Underwareness and post it. The bladder you save just may be your own. Don't mock. I learned the hard way.

This post was sponsored by Depend, and yes I was paid just a little for writing it, but the comments and opinions are all my own. Like they'd want me to tell you how I mocked them before I peed myself?

Tuesday, September 9, 2014

Wanna read an awesomely hilarious book?

Today's the day!!! I'm very excited to let you all know that Jen of People I Want to Punch in the Throat is releasing her latest book, Competitive Crafters, Drop-Off Despots and Other Suburban Scourges! I was lucky enough to get an advanced copy ('cause I'm special like that) and I gotta tell ya, I LOVED this book.

Photo courtesy: People I Want to Punch in the Throat
The book starts out with the story of how Jen met her husband, 'The Hubs' (here's a hint, she got all dolled up in her best farmer duds for the occasion), and then moves on to topics that made me shake my head in agreement on every page. From the competition to be 'room mom' to helping out at different tables at the school's fair, Jen proves how douchey parents can really be. We all know the assbag moms, the one uppers, the ones who have to be the big cheeses, and we all know they're assbags. Jen just has the balls to come out and say it.

Her love for her cleaning lady was heartwarming (if you could call it that), a sort of girl meets cleaning lady, girl loses cleaning lady, cleaning lady rushes back into girl's arms. LOVED that.

Her tales of going to parties, TOY parties (wink wink, nudge nudge) cracked me up. Her talk of breastfeeding made me jump up and go "ME TOO!!" And when she got stuck in the carpool lane at school in fuzzy pajamas and couldn't leave the car, despite her son being missing, I lost it. This book is totally relatable, and totally hilarious.

I love Jen, I love her blog and I LOVE THIS BOOK!!!!! So what are you waiting for? Go! Buy! Read! Laugh!

Friday, September 5, 2014

Dress Code Violator!!!

I saw this in my news feed today and you know I just had to say something. This girl wore a skirt to school, the school officials deemed it too short, and made her change clothes. Wait, let me back up a second. They said they gave her 3 options.

1. Have someone bring her a change of clothes
2. Sit in in-school detention
3. Change into a shame suit

Ok that third one is just embellished a little on my part.  She said they never gave her the other 2 options, only #3, which consisted of red sweatpants and a yellow shirt with DRESS CODE VIOLATOR in big black letters. Mom says this violates the kid's FERPA (Family Educational Rights and Privacy Act) rights for making her baby's discipline public. I say 'put on your big girl panties and suck it up'. And here's why:

Last year, 17 wore black athletic running tights and a sweatshirt to school. One particular teacher who is NOTORIOUS for calling students out on their 'inappropriate' clothing options decided my kid needed pants to learn. (I swear this is my favorite meme on the internet).

She called me from school and told me I had to bring her a pair of jeans or she'd be in detention for the rest of the day. Did I bitch and moan and naturally post it on Facebook? Yep. Did I call the principal, the school board, the media, the superintendent or the freaking Governor?? No, I did  not. Because I've got better things to do with my time than make a big freaking production out of something as small as a dress code violation.

The girl in this story broke out in hives upon putting on this outfit, and she was allowed to leave school early. I'm sorry but I'm not feeling the sympathy here. YES it was a pain in the ass to have to leave work, drive home, find a clean pair of pants in 17's room (come on, she's a teen, you know what a chore THAT is), drive to the school and give the offender her pants so she could go back and get more learning done. But I didn't feel that her FERPA rights were violated and I didn't feel the need to bring it to the attention of the national media.

I think this lady and her daughter are bringing more attention to this matter than is really necessary. Seriously. Instead of it just being the kids in school who are seeing the poor kid in her DRESS CODE VIOLATOR outfit, she took a selfie and now the entire country, even the whole WORLD is seeing it. And for what? For attention. Her FERPA rights are gone. Her mom made sure of that by contacting the media. So who wins here?

I do, because I get to post that meme. And I swear, I loved that meme.

Wednesday, September 3, 2014

Is This Menopause That I'm Feeling?

Why didn't any of you bitches warn me? I'm totally about to spontaneously combust! What in the ever-loving fresh HELL is this?? I. AM. ON. FIRE.

Me. On fire. Somebody bring me some water.

Sweet baby Moses on a Cheeto!! I was sick this past weekend and it's like some switch from the depths of hell was flipped on. I went from mocking my next door neighbor's hot flashes (her house so cold you could hang meat inside) to trying to break INTO her meat locker to get some relief. It's HOT, boys and girls. H.O.T. hot. Piping hot. Steaming hot. Burrrrrrrning hot. And there doesn't seem to be any relief! I take comfort in knowing that it's September and the August heat will soon be but a memory and the freezing cold gales of November will hopefully come early to my little burg. Because Damn.

I used to wake up in the morning with my shirt wet, obviously suffering from a hot flash at some point during the night but not bad enough to wake me up. Now there are flames shooting out of my armpits. There's smoke smouldering out of my ears. The sweat under my boobs so bad that water is pooling in my bra. I could wring that bitch out. This is no joke, my friends. This is not a drill. I am on red alert, literally.

I think I'm starting to enter menopause and it ain't pretty. You'd think with as sweaty as I've been all damn weekend, I'd sweat off a few pounds. Being me is like living inside a sauna with a campfire in the middle, and I'm the marshmallow, roasting on the stick. I'd love to hang out and give you more details about how goddamn hot I am, but I need to go take another freaking shower.

This sucks. That is all for now.