Wednesday, April 15, 2009


When we were kids you broke my heart. Or so I thought at the time. Sixteen year old girls are silly that way.

When we were a bit older my heart broke for you. The death of your little boy. So very, very, sad.

Today my heart breaks for those you've left behind. Your life taken way too soon. Your father, who has to bury his youngest son. Your wife, who has lost her best friend. Your son, who is now without his Daddy. And so many, many friends.

You fought the good fight Chris. Now you can rest. I know you are in Heaven with Alec in your arms. I hope your heart is at peace.

Tuesday, March 17, 2009

Did You Just Say Meow?

I risked my life today to set free a feral cat. Set it free from the very trap I placed a can of "Special Kitty" cat food in to lure the little MF'er into the trap in the first place. I hate these friggin cats and I hate the dumb-ass old lady who lives in the house behind me who keeps feeding them even more. And I do wish she would stop coming outside in her nightgown and also that her husband would not ride his bike around the neighborhood shirtless. Because he is old. And yes, men can get saggy tits too. Actually I consider his tits to be more soggy than saggy. But anyway...the cats. The nasty, filthy, feral cats who kill rodents in my yard and leave their innards spread out in the grass for me to clean up so the kids don't step on them and then track squirrel intestines through my house. And piss everywhere and holy shit does cat piss stink! There were 4 feral cats and I have successfully captured two and the animal police came and picked them up and that was exciting!!! Plus one raccoon, and now I know why they say not to leave the traps out overnight. But the raccoon was sleeping and actually had to be encouraged to leave the trap once I got it opened. And my (man) neighbor was watching and screaming "it's rabid, it's rabid!" Oh, and my husband was watching out the window because he apparently had some raccoon trauma as a child. And for real, that raccoon was cute (and sleepy.) But the cat? That thing was out of it's effing skull. I had to get gloves, and a coat, and a shield and a butcher knife to go near it. And set it free. Because the animal police people are done work at 4:00 and it was 4:20 and they were closed. And wouldn't be back for about 17 hours which is too long according to the paperwork they gave me to leave the thing in there. My husband was all "don't set it free, it's the smart one, it's the one we've been waiting to get." And while this is true and it was in fact, The Smart Cat it was going meow meow meow in this little sad voice and fucking shit could it be that I have a heart?! For this bastard cat that I hate and makes my sun room smell like piss when it rains? So yeah, it took a long time and it was very scary but I did get the trap open and set the cat from hell who was no longer going meow meow meow it was more like growl hiss growl free. Because I just felt so bad for it. At that moment anyway. I will not feel bad tomorrow morning when I put another can of "Special Kitty" in the back of that trap and set the spring loaded door. Don't mistake kindness for weakness you furry little fuck.

Saturday, March 7, 2009


Riley is the eleven month old son of one of my friends. He was born with Heterotaxy Syndrome and Complex Congenital Heart Disease. In May we will be having a benefit for Riley and his family. Right now we are in need of donations for a Chinese Auction. If you or anyone you know can help by donating an item or gift certificate for a basket it would be greatly appreciated. You can e-mail me at
You can read Riley's story here:

Tuesday, February 17, 2009

Thursday, February 5, 2009

You Can Kiss My Ass If...

You are a grandparent to my child and did not even send him a friggin card on his birthday.
You are the superintendent of my kids' school district and you keep having these 2 hour delays because 7 snowflakes fell out of the sky.
You say "mani-pedi."
You have a really fast, really expensive sports car and you drive 19 when the speed limit is 25 and you are in front of me.
You live in my snobby, pretentious neighborhood.
You throw your little baggie of dog shit in my trashcan after the trash men have already come.
You asked me to be a bridesmaid in your wedding and are forcing me to wear the most God-awful, pouffy dress ever to have been created by anyone, anywhere.
You are a grown woman and your name is "Sassy" or "Cookie." Stop it.
You were once married to my husband and when you come to pick up your son for your weekend visitation you ask if you can use my bathroom. And you shit in it. And then you advise that I don't go in there for a while .
You let your 27 little kids run around the library screaming and don't even attempt to keep them quiet because that book is just so darn interesting.
You are a recording that keeps calling my house asking for Rosalie Adams.
You are not a recording and you keep calling my house offering me special offers.
You put onions and pickles on my Double Cheeseburger after I specifically said no onions, no pickles.
You bitches know who you are.

Wednesday, February 4, 2009

My Best Friend

My best friend is Elvis' biggest fan.

My best friend calls me "sister."

My best friend has the most amazing memory in the world.

My best friend will ride the biggest scariest roller coaster and not bat an eye.

My best friend can find humor in any situation.

My best friend is the most positive person I know. Her glass is always half full.

My best friend is an awesome basketball player.

My best friend was there for me when my mom passed away.

My best friend loves vacationing in Florida.

My best friend has hopes and dreams for her future.

My best friend was there on my wedding day.

My best friend keeps me in her prayers.

My best friend has written me a million notes-all of which I've saved.

My best friend makes me happy.

My best friend probably sounds a lot like your best friend.

My best friend has Down Syndrome.

But it doesn't make her who she is-it is just one part of the wonderful, amazing, loving, person she is.

Love you Sister!

Saturday, January 31, 2009

February 1,1996

Thirteen years ago today, at 4:34 in the morning a baby boy was born. He was so perfect, so beautiful, and so very, very, tiny.

And then I blinked.

Happy Birthday Joseph Anthony. I am so proud to be your mom.

Wednesday, January 28, 2009

It's A Boy!

No really, it is. Doesn't my twelve year old son have some bouncy and beautiful hair? We offered him 50 bucks to get it cut and he said no. Dammit.

Friday, January 9, 2009


Dear Child Study Team, Principal, 2 Out of 3 Teachers, and Guidance Counselor who Laughs Like a Horse,

Thank you all for wasting two and half years of my time. Thank you also for wasting the time of my child. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for treating me like a person who was making a huge deal out of nothing and thank you for the fact that my kid thinks he's stupid. Thanks for blowing off my concerns and for patronizing me. Thank you for ignoring the advice of a pre-school teacher, a psychiatrist, a therapist, and a neurologist. I'm sure they have no idea what they're talking about anyway. Thank you for refusing to evaluate him all three times I sent a written request. Thanks also for allowing us to spend a whole bunch of money to have him privately evaluated since you wouldn't do it. We really appreciate it. Truly.

When I brought a copy of the evaluation we had done to our last meeting I was kind enough not to shove it straight up your ass which I felt inclined to do. Instead I let you read it. I highlighted the sentence which contained the words "qualifies for special education" so you couldn't miss it. I thought that was really nice of me. Isn't that wild? He qualifies for special education. He has learning disabilities. Who'd of thunk? All along, it appears that I was right. I wasn't making a big deal out of nothing. And you guys suck.

So I'll see you in a couple weeks at the IEP Meeting that you have so graciously scheduled. It will be real nice to see you all. Again, I thank you for your concern and support and for truly caring for my child as an individual. I'm so glad that he will now be getting the help he needs and deserves.

Love and Kisses,
A Disgusted Mom