Friday, July 6, 2012

A Bum Deal...

***apparently blogspot still REALLY wants me to move to wordpress because for some reason I can't put spaces in to seperate paragraphs. I am not as run on and inept as I appear. Usually***** oh wait I figured it out. Nevermind.


I am going to preface this blog by telling you that it's pretty TMI. And by YOU I mean my mom, my grandma, anyone in my extended family that rolls their eyes (but still reads this) and the friends of my kids on facebook who friended me and I didn't remember to block yet.

If this kind of thing bothers you, then you need to be my guest and click the X because I'm not tolerating any complaints. YOU HEAR ME, SON??

So, day before yesterday, I'd had a long day and I decided to unwind with some new bath salts I got. Because I love bubble baths and bath salts and calgon take me away and all of that crap that probably doesn't even really do anything except get me all slippery. But whatever, that's not the point.

I love Burt's Bee's everything, so when they had that theraputic bath salt that promised to relieve stressful joints and relieve stress with that menthol-y smell I was sold. I have never had a problem and I am not hating on Burt's Bees.

So I pour a capful just like it says into the tub (because too many salt rocks aren't comfy in a bath, especialy since there's oil and you kind of slide around on the tub floor, it's really a good idea to stick to the right "dosage" if you will)

I sit in the bath and I'm like, ooh how relaxing it's kind of tingly all over.

Oh wait.

It's kind of hot now.

Wait, that doesn't feel good.


All my sensitive areas below the waist are on fire, RED ALERT GET OUT OF THE BATH TUB NOW! Especially my, um, butt. Like my actual. Anyway whatever, you're the one who kept reading. This isn't really my problem anymore.

So I come blasting out of the bathtub like the kool-aid man and my husband is thinking I probably got the bath water too hot again and was making a run for the fan. Where I will desperately cool off and sometimes fall asleep while waiting for my heart rate to return to normal. No sympathy because I never learn.


"When are you going to stop doing that?"

"MY BUTT!!!"


"Bath salt! Burn!"

"What? (laughs)" That doesn't make sense"

"It's BURNING MY BUTT- - - -" I am not saying the word or typing it because that is just too gross for me to utter on my blog. I am classier than that, you guys. Well today...

My husband looks at me, I can tell he's amused but he's also confused and is not sure how to handle my frantic hopping. It's not really helping anything.

I'm not going into any more detail but I may or may not have whined enough to warrant a cell phone picture to make sure I didn't have a tumor, but push that thought out of your mind because I'm not confirming or denying it. This is where all my shame comes in.

I'm so uncomfortable, so I hop up and nearly break my neck on the wood floor because my feet still have the bath oil and I almost fell. I get the hemorroid lotion. I get some valium. And I go back to bed.

APPARENTLY not before taking to twitter and talking about the condition of my butt and then comparing it to a dog dragging its bum across the carpet. Nice. I really should have my phone taken away at a certain time..But whatever..

The next day I have a message from Burt's Bees on my twitter asking me to contact them about the bath salts and my butt problem so they can resolve it. I never even tagged them! Now I feel really bad and because my ASSanine tweets were amusing to my 16K followers, they got retweeted which means they are there forever. GREAT.

So, I have a laugh with my "big sis" stand up comedian friend Julie cuz she doesn't judge and she will find the humor in the whole thing and I get on with my day.

Photo shoot later in a sunflower field. FUN!! I have a really floaty flowy dress on.

One of the photographers wants to shoot near a tree. It's so magical looking with all the vine crawling up it and the sunflowers in the background and the vine on the ground. It's not poison ivy cuz I googled a picture of it twenty minutes ago near a similar tree with similar vine that I knew was going to be in one of the 9 or 10 photographer's "vision". I'm not making fun, the field is really magical. And I'm not complaining, the shoot was fun. But damn if I didn't go right on ahead and sit in that pile of vine and start feeling little tingles. Then I saw tiny red ants.

OH MY GOD FIRE ANTS!! I jumped up really fast. They were all over my legs. I had seated myself rignt ontop of a pile of fire ants. Fire ants are like the gift that keeps on giving , long after those little shits have stung you, the sting hurts worse and worse and worse. And today they are welty and itchy.

So now, my ass has been totally chewed up and like, violated by bath salts and HA HA HA isn't this so funny, and when I was talking to Julie again about my latest butt disaster, she pointed out that Burt's Bee's actually makes a really good salve for insect bites.


Tuesday, July 3, 2012

THIS is why I don't do mornings.

So, my dog is really not having a good day. I know you all get a kick out of these dog crap blogs so here is another one for you. Sometime, in the wee hours of the morning, I noticed a drawer was ajar in the kitchen. I shut it, thinking not much of it, but when I opened it, I noticed puncture marks in a coffee bag and coffe grounds all over. Not only that but the trash can was ajar and there was a half chewed coffee filter with no grounds to be found. My super spidey senses tell me that this dog has eaten about a cup of coffee grinds. I looked around the house wondering where the inevitable trail of poop was, but he hadn't done it yet. While I was doing THAT, I also noticed that the crushed red papper I used to make beef jerky with was out and spilled. And mostly empty. That damn dog must have gotten that too. Which would explain why all the water is gone. So, I go about cleaning the spillage and the dog is outside looking at me pitifully. I decide he's probably pooped and all is well, and let him in. I put my headsets on to do my cardio . WHAT??? I know right. It' s fricken 7:30. I am awake. AND EXCERCISING. How CRRAAAZY is that? But, whatever, so I'm jamming out on my elliptical to "sexy and I know it" . I love to excercise to that. Because I jump off the elliptical and shake my shoulders forward during the WIGGLEWIGGLEWIGGLE part. It makes my laugh. At myself. As I was doing the WIGGLEWIGGLEWIGGLE shoulder thrust, I realized I heard howling. The dog wants out. Except he is looking at me, and his butt is pointed at the door and he has sprayed diarreah all over the door and I can actually make out the red pepper flakes stuck to the door. Poop is a good glue apparently. And it's still dripping. And I have to let him outside. Then, he fell in the fish pond. I called the vet and they said that if he continued crying to bring him in, but that his anus was probably just on fire. Make sure he is hydrated. Dont even start judging me because the dog is taller than me when he stands up and knows how to unlock things and knock stuff off cabinets. Ive tried to give him away, but David goes all soft. And it was me who begged to pay 8k for surgery in December. So dont get all hater on me because I'm not that sympathetic to his plight. This dog is going to die because he eats like a trash compactor and until we give him to a new owner that lives in a field that is free of rocks, trash and small animals, I doubt there is a way to avoid it. So, as I'm wiping off the squirts all over the door, in my headphones, I am hearing "sex is on fire" except now the words will forever be "your anus is on fire" THANK YOU KITO and if it gets stuck in your head that way too, you may also thank my dog. I hope your day is better than mine. Im sure the mental image bothers you and so I'll leave you be to go stab your mind's eye out. I'm also adding a picture of a cute kitten to try and make up for it , even though I think cats are evil. That's another blog.