The Ghetto Sheet

If you’re in our family room watching t.v. during the day, there’s sometimes a glare on the screen because of the natural light coming in via the kitchen. When it’s just the three of us  at home watching tv or playing video games in the middle of the day and there’s a glare, Donny or myself will put up the ghetto sheet.   We take two push pins and hang a sheet across the opening  to block the light.  Don’t judge us!

The other night I was on the couch watching t.v., the sheet was up, and I felt like someone was behind me. I whipped my head around only to find the ghetto sheet looking back at me.  Before I could breathe a sigh of relief, my eyes traveled downward and I saw Kali’s two little sock clad feet.  Like something out of a horror movie about evil little children.

“Kali?”, I called nervously.

“Yes?, she replied cryptically.

“Umm, whatcha doing?”

“Looking at this spider on the ceiling.”
Whew, I thought, my child isn’t evil. She’s just weird.

Anything For Love?

This morning, Bette, Mike and I were talking about how hard it is to get tickets to see Oprah. I said that I’d probably have to get on a waiting list now to get tickets before the show stops filming in 2011.

Bette: Well, whose dick do we have to suck to get tickets this year? Find out and we’ll send Mike and Donny.

I couldn’t hear what Mike was saying. I just heard the word “bitch” a few times, and Donny just looked at me like I was crazy. So, Bette and I are cracking up and asking our significant others, “You wouldn’t suck dick for me? If you loved me, you would!”

Nina: We’d suck dick for you!

How Much For That Doggie In The Backyard

…the one with the doggie AIDS?

Randy, my love, you wanted a blog, here it is….

So, Tuesday night I’m on IM with Randy and he’s giving me a hard time. This is nothing new. He always gives me a hard time.  If there’s a single typo, spelling, or math error in a blog, Randy will find it.  It could be the War and Peace of blogs, but he will find that one thing wrong and that will be his comment. Bastard.  But on IM, he gives me a hard time about two other things.

One, he sent me a song before Christmas and I still haven’t listened to it. In my defense, it’s after Christmas now and it’s a Christmas song. I’m just not in the mood.  Two, I never call him.  We spoke on the phone once and I’m embarrassed to say that my journalistic instincts kicked in and I drilled the poor man on everything from his kids, to his job, to what it’s like to hunt and eat what you shoot.  I even teased him about his accent which he denies having. He totally does.

Anyway, he’s giving me a hard time and I’m taking it good naturedly because he also called me gorgeous.  And you guys know how I roll. Me likey the compliments.  As we’re chatting, Mike and Bette call me, and I tell them I’m talking to Randy and he’s giving me a hard time.  Mike tells me he has the perfect way to get back at Randy and have a laugh or two in the process.  Hey, this is what true friends do! I tease Mike daily because I have an Xbox 360 and he doesn’t.  When he gets one, I’ll find something else to tease him about.

Turns out Randy has what some might call “an outside dog.” A dog that is basically kept outside.  Now, this doesn’t mean that the dog is mistreated. Hell, if I had a dog I’d probably keep his little ass tied up in the basement.  And, um, if I had a basement.  So, Mike is all, “You gotta tell him you got an email from this poor dog. It will really get under his skin. The dog’s name is Cedar.”

I IM Randy….

Nina: I just got an email from someone at cedar@pleaseletmeinitscoldoutside.net  Do you know who that is?

No response.

Nina: The subject is: I’m starving!!

No response.  Then…

Randy: Tell Mike to shut the fuck up!

I tell Mike and Bette and we start cracking up.  Then…

Randy: What does the email say?

Nina (into phone): Crap, he wants to know what it says.

Mike: Hold on.

Mike runs to get on IM and I improvise till he does…

Nina: If you’re reading this email, I’m probably already dead.

Then Mike feeds me the rest….

Randy is a bastard and I’ve been outside for three months. I’ve got mange, fleas, and now I have doggie AIDS.  I’ve been forced to chew off my own paw because I’m so hungry and cold.  My paw tasted like shit because it was frostbitten.

The kids really want to play with me, but they don’t even know where their Daddy is to ask him if they can. I’m not even sure they know what he looks like.

Randy interrupts: If he chewed off his paw, how did he type the email?

Nina (into phone): He wants to know how the dog is typing with one paw?

I’m dictating this to a chipmunk. Since Randy hasn’t been home from the internet in three months, he hasn’t been around to hunt the poor chipmunks.

At this point, we can’t even continue because Mike and I are screaming with laughter. I can’t even type and my face is wet with tears. For the record, Bette giggled and just said “tsk tsk tsk” a lot. She’s a sweetie.

I had to share this with you because everyone else I’ve read it to just dies laughing. Donny, my Dad, my Mom…especially my Mom.  She was howling with laughter into the phone, “doggie AIDS!! Bwahahahahahaha!”

Randy, it took me 1,001 blogs, but you finally got your own.  Still think I’m gorgeous?  *mwah*

Update: Mike found the rest of the email. It goes as follows:

If you are reading this, then it is too late for me. But please, get the word out that dogs need to be let in sometimes. And fed.

Also, someone needs to call PETA on Randy’s ass. My body can be found behind the shed, with my face in my own poop. Yes, I was eating it when I expired.

I’m a dog, okay? That’s what we do.

Help me,

Cedar

Help me.

Bad Mommy

As soon as her hot chocolate cools down enough so that she may sip it without burning off a tastebud or twelve, I will be driving Kali to school. You may be wondering what she’s doing home at 10am, but the better question would be, “Why did she stay home yesterday when all the other kids in our county returned to school?”

Simple. Her mother, that would be me, assumed that she returned to school next week. Why? Because that’s when her mother, again me, is returning to school and in true Nina form, she believed that everything (in the world, universe, galaxy, et.al) revolved around her. Her being Nina, not Kali.  By extension everything in her (Nina’s, not Kali’s) world revolved around Kali.  With the exception, obviously, of her education as this story so blatantly proves.

When asked lovingly, and with all the patience one musters for a mildly retarded child, by Richard (Tralfaz) over the phone, where she obtained the information that Kali returned to school on January 8th, and not the 3rd, Nina replied, “From myself.” Richard sighed. The same sigh exhaled when said mildly retarded child poops and then plays in it.

Today is a different story. I awoke too late to put her on the school bus as I kept hitting the snooze button. I kept hitting the button because it was interrupting a dream I was having with James. Wipe your drool, kiddies. Despite having a plethora of shirtless pics posted at his profile, the only dreams I have of James involve the two of us in the Big Brother house plotting ways to not just evict our fellow houseguests, but to kill them. Don’t judge me!

Speaking of James, the other day Donny and I were at the computer doing some online banking when I accidentally clicked one of the many little icons taking up residence on my toolbar. You know the ones you have no idea how they got there? So, I accidentally clicked one that was the Myspace logo.  I sigh, and wait for it to open so I can close it and go back to paying bills.

“What is that?,” Donny asked.

“I have no idea,” I replied.

It opens to reveal….James’ Myspace profile. Donny just looks at me. I look at him.

“I have no idea why that’s there!”

I really don’t!  Great, now I have to convince my husband that I’m not stalking James…anymore.

Taking Inventory

My smart, sexy, oh so funny, sister inspired me to do something I should have done a long time ago.  No, not have a baby. Although, I did think that her relocation to Atlanta with my scrumptious nephew was a sign that I should have my eggs checked for dust, but I instead realized that she was sent home to inspire something else: my artistic drive.

She lent me a book which was very funny. I read it in one day.  As I read it I realized, “I could do this! Why, this is nothing more than a book o’ blogs. I got blogs. I got blogs coming out my ever widening ass.” (As of this blog, I have 10 till 1,000) Then my sister told me that as she read it, and the prequel before it, she thought the same thing.

So, why hadn’t I done it? Laziness and fear. But mostly laziness. Ok, the majority of it was laziness. Like 99.8 percent pure laze.

I wasn’t going to make New Year resolutions because I think they’re lame.

And I never keep them. But that’s not the point…

The point is that today, after spending most of the day alone with my thoughts, I realized that maybe I should this year. And this year will be different because they will be realistic. Unlike previous years where I was downright resolute in my quest to marry Jason Behr, travel the country by motorcycle, and finally beat Final Fantasy V. (Don’t judge me!)

I’m going to start simple:

- Continue going to school (which was my resolution last year, to go to school, and three semesters in I think it’s fair to say I’m kicking school’s academic arse) and do well

- Remember to place the house phones on the charger so that when I want to use them they’re juiced up. (Like tonight when I went to call Richard, Mike, Bette, and Emily only to realize both phones were dead)

- Send birthday cards to all my family and friends (so that they arrive in time for their birthdays)

- Go back to reading for pleasure (which I didn’t do much of last year due to school. Hopefully, the book club will help me do this)

- Write, write, write

- Encourage my friends

So, that is all. Starting tomorrow I will be taking serious inventory of my blogs, and begin working on new ones, all because my little sister believes that one day people will pay to read my ramblings.

Happy New Year, bitches!  I wish nothing but great things for you and yours. I know I’m going to grab a bunch for me and mine. (insert big fat smooches right…about…here.)