Is It Just Me Or Is This Kid Crazy Cute?


Recognition by Nielsen Will Get You a Grande Caramel Macchiato, but Only if You Have $4.07 in Your Pocket

Every once in a while, this site gets listed in some sort of "best" or "most influential" or whatever list. Every time it happens, someone asks what I get for being on such a list. The answer to that question is very simple--I get a lot of spam. A LOT OF SPAM.

I get emails addressed to "Blogger" or "Site owner" or "Ms.      " (seriously, they just leave it blank) asking me to post about some fantastic product, some crazy concept, or whatever. In case the salutation didn't make me think they just pulled my email address off some odd list, they usually go on to ask for help with something that isn't even remotely within the realm of appropriate for this space. There have been offers to review "adult toys," requests to post press releases about some new computer game perfect for a grade school boy, and a whole slew of just plain ridiculous things. For example, I (as well as hundreds of other bloggers) was once asked to post a plea to my readers asking them to sign a petition to end 2009 a month early because it was such a lousy year.

I wish that was even the funniest one I've ever gotten. It's not. We'll just leave the Best Of left unstated because it was that bad.

Anyway, my answer to the spam is quite simple: Delete! Delete! Delete! I rarely even bother to open emails if I don't recognize the sender's email address. Sometimes I'll skim them just for entertainment, but usually the spam-riffic PR emails don't even make it onto my radar. I'm just not into that whole thing.

However, once in a while, something about a pitch will catch my attention. Recently, I got one that definitely caught my attention. You can find out about it over on my Reviews page.


Ding Dong! The Whore is Dead!

There have been two times in her short life that Alexis has eaten meat. The first time the dead critter in question was pig. She thought she was looking at her faux bacon, but it was actually the real thing. By the time anyone could warn her that she may not like it, she had shoveled a whole piece in her mouth, made a face that said, "OMG! I'M DYING! AND I HATE YOU!" and tried to spit it all back out. Since her spitting was partially unsuccessful, she went on to puke the bacon. A lot.

Truly, that was one of the best moments of my life. I enjoyed it immensely.

The second time it was pepperoni. That time was my fault because I didn't check our pizza before I left the pizza shop and then did a craptacular job of peeling all of the stuff off Alexis' slice. The end result of pizza with real pepperoni (the kid loves faux pepperoni A LOT) was pretty much the same as the bacon incident. Spectacular!

So, we send lunch to school with the kid most days, despite the fact that our school provides meals. I expect a diamond-studded tiara from the teachers any day. It's the least they can do since we're so kind as to help them avoid the dead animal puke situation.

Today was what I call a "Kinda Lunch," where the kid could eat nearly everything that was being served. It was pancakes and sausages and applesauce, so in my world, you give the kid two of the three things and call it a day. However, sometimes they get a little judgey if too many days pass without the kid eating a protein at lunch, so I opted to toss a couple of faux sausages in a bowl and send them to school.

Of course, she didn't eat them. Whatever. I grabbed the bowl out of the school fridge and gathered up the kid.

As I tossed her into the car after school, she asked if she could eat her sausage. Because, you know, the two meals and two snacks she had already eaten weren't nearly enough. I tossed her a couple of faux sausage links and headed on our way.

Then I realized I had been all meeting-ed up through the day and never managed to eat any meals myself. I made sure Alexis wasn't looking, reached down, and grabbed the last faux sausage. She wasn't around when I packed the bowl, never got a good look at the bowl, and definitely had no way of knowing how many I had given her.

Yet, a few minutes later, "Momma, can I have my other sausage?" came floating from the backseat.

AGGLE FLAGGLE KLABABBLE! I was totally busted.

"You ate all the sausage," I told her. I lie sometimes, but only when I'm afraid for my life.

"Nuh-uh. I have more," she reported.

AGGLE FLAGGLE KLABABBLE! I really was totally busted. I sensed a battle brewing, so I desperately looked around for some sort of distraction.


A random Dora hung on a fence! It was like Karma was repaying me for all the times I've spared the Latina Whore's face. She was even nice enough to put the sign at an intersection with a red light that I swear must last 20 minutes.

"Hey, look! I see a Dora!" I tried to sell the Dora thing as being the most exciting event that could ever possibly happen during a car ride home.

Alexis looked around, spotted the sign, and said, "I don't like Dora anymore."

The fit that ensued because I ate all of the kid's food? TOTALLY WORTH IT. She doesn't like Dora anymore! Woooooo!