Sinatra Inspires Shameful Confessions

I am inspired and cheerful at present.  My house smells like a fabulous combination of coconut and lemon instead of it's usual stench of pets and gas.  'Megamind' is on in the background and I so enjoy Will Ferrell.  But this is not where it ends.

For my more faithful followers you may recall a longing I shared a few weeks back about a notebook.  It is actually a journal.  And?  It is currently in my hot little hands.  Did I strike it rich?  Nope.  I actually fondled said journals just last Wednesday when I was at Indigo Books in Saskatoon.  Yet, I couldn't bring myself to engage in such a frivolous purchase and instead bought a discount book for $7.

Nope, friends, I now am in possession of these journals because of the many worthwhile connections I have made since moving to a city I once despised and swore I'd never live in.

Sinatra.

Not ringing any bells?  Check this out; she is the thrower of the still un-contested most fabulous baby shower of all time.

I met Sinatra through 'Stacey'.  They recently went to Vegas together and stumbled upon a giant rabbit.  It was all very Hangover-ish.

Anyway, I went to swimming lessons tonight.  Not for myself, for Rhett.  We were nearly there when it was discovered we had forgotten his actual swimming trunks and towel.  So back home we went.  Once at the pool I nearly took off the poor kid's nose with his sweater while undressing him at mock speed.  Got him in the water and went to join Sinatra, Stacey, and Sinatra's kind-but-elderly husband, George (not his real name, but George seems to embody a sweet befuddled-ness that comes only with age). 

I was hot, frazzled and felt like ass. 

Then, mere moments after sitting down, Sinatra presented me with not one, but two of the coveted journals. 

It was all I could do but to stop myself from fondling these fresh new journals in an obscene and likely disturbing manner to the others seated on the bleachers.  I was thrilled.  The only thing missing were the Cosmos.

I was immediately inspired to blog and couldn't wait to get home to do so.  I couldn't read the one with quotes in it on the way home because that would make me carsick (I'm a true nerd at heart) but I did hold them.

There is one other item worth mentioning here....I asked Ryan to take Rhett to change to prevent the ogling of women.  Turns out he not only likes to observe women.  Apparently while Rhett was changing, a man was as well.  Said man was naked at one point.  This led Rhett to observe, vocally, that this man, in fact, has the same penis as his dad.  As in: "Dad, that guy has the same penis as you!"  He, from the sounds of it, was quite pleased with this discovery.  I am quite pleased Ryan has been able to share in some of the joys of parenting Rhett to the fullest.

"I don't have pet peeves, I have whole kennels of irritation."  Whoopi Goldberg.  I detest 'The View' as well as Whoopi on 'The View', but I like this very much.  The journal is rife with quotes of similar nature.  Guaranteed to make this bitch smile on the worst of days!

And so I shall write in it and come up with my own very quotable quotes.

And finally, as a small thank you to Sinatra, I will make a confession that nearly makes me vomit out of pure shame:  Sometimes, I sing along to Michael Buble.

I Prefer a Firm Noodle

This title came to me the other day after my husband made mac & cheese and I complained that it was too mushy.  I like firm noodles.  Which is what I thought to myself and then giggled a little because sometimes my mind pretends I'm a 13 year old boy.  Further to that point I've been coveting an article from Saturday's paper.  I wanted to post about it.  Then slightly panicked the other day when I almost recycled it.

What is this astounding piece of literature I'm holding so near and dear to my heart?  Well, it's about walruses.  Walruses with giant penises. 

I may need to get out more.

The whole article is about how they're in danger of becoming extinct because the Arctic Ice is melting so they're trying to breed captive Walruses.  Trouble is, the girls are ready to rock when the boy isn't and vice versa. So instead, people are spending a lot of time, and I'm guessing money to figure out how to jack off a Walrus.

What?!

Well, it's no easy feat given that a Walrus penis weighs in at 30 pounds, is 3 feet long and is 22" in circumference!!!  No I'm not making that up!  Which just led me to wonder about the capacity of a Walrus vagina, but I guess we'll leave that for another day.  Anyway, they essentially are fashioning an artificial Walrus vagina out of PVC pipe and such, making sure it can support his 2900 pounds and his giant schlong.  Then they have to make it attractive to him so he gets in the mood.  Apparently his turn-ons are strollers, running children and power tools.  For real.  It's like Playboy for walruses.  He lives in a zoo.  When construction is being done at the zoo he growls and postures and is ready for some lovemaking.  Say that last part like Will Ferrell in Anchorman and it's even funnier. 

You're welcome.

Why all this trouble to fashion an artificial walrus vagina?  Why for artificial insemination of course.

The moral of this story is my aspirations of becoming a published paid writer someday may be a little far off given how easily distracted I am by limp noodles and stories of giant Walrus penises.