Tuesday, October 16, 2012

Maybe You Ought Notta Know.

Coming late to the news, as usual, I just discovered who the asshole ex-boyfriend is in Alanis Morissette's song about the bad ex. It's Dave Coulier. Next thought: Who the hell is Dave Coulier? I had to activate the memory banks on that one to recall that he's the guy from that really awful 80s t.v. show, Full House. Yes, the one that gave us Mary Kate and Ashley Olsen. Thank you so much for that by the way, Full House! But  he's not the cute one, and not the main guy. He was the other guy. The kinda fat creepy uncle. A lot of faded denim and brightly colored sweater vests?  You know the guy. Yes, him!

Then it occurred to me, thinking about that song, that Alanis Morrisette went down on Dave Coulier in a theatre? And then my next thought was someone went down on Dave Coulier?  Dave, born in 1959, is 15 years older than Alanis.  So if she was dating him when she was 18, he was 33. Apparently he was annoyed that her teenaged self would call him in the middle of dinner. Uh, sorry Dad! 

I love that song and I'm so glad I found out so many years later that it was Dave Coulier she was talking about because it's not only affected her credibility in my mind, it's kind of made her out to be a whacko.

Leaving messes, denying crosses, being duplicitous. Dave Coulier

Tuesday, May 01, 2012

Time for A New Post!

I know right?! God, that's a horrible expression.  With each successive new expression I think to myself, that has got to be the worst. Turns out I am almost always wrong. "But I digress" (that's a horrible one from like 1826).

People, invisible people of the internet, how much do you hate it when you hate it when you check in on a blog and there hasn't been an update? If it's as much as I hate it, then the answer is an awful lot.  I made the trip all the way over here!  (Somehow it seems worse when it happens to me.)

The sad thing is I don't really have anything to say. Actually I do...Xylitol.  That's not a fancy-talker swear word, it's a health food item.  And if you want to rid your mouth of plaque, eat Xylitol.  Must be pure, not mixed with any other sweetener or sugar alcohol.  You can buy it at health food stores in crystalline form, just like sugar, or compressed into mints or gum.  It is tasty and it will blow your mind in terms of plaque reduction.  It is candy that is good for your teeth!  How awesome is that!? If my dental hygienist were smart or not so obsessed with talking about her upcoming wedding, her mind would be blown by the state of my teeth since I started eating xylitol.  If your gums ever bleed when you brush or floss, xylitol will fix you up.  Seriously, Google it if you don't believe me.  And then don't forget to let me know how it's going please if you do start on it.

Monday, January 30, 2012

This is actually a serious post today, about parenting. As a mom, I am annoyed at other parents. I find so many of them simply abandon their responsibilities because their kids give them some grief. But, really, that's when you have to step it up, when you're actually getting the grief.

When your kid mouths off, storms off, disobeys and you respond by rolling your eyes, or throwing your hands up, or complaining about how awful she is, you're literally training your child to mouth off to you. The message you're sending is this: "If you want to me to back off/stop talking/not discipline you" just mouth off because I'll throw my hands up in the air and stop parenting. Parent your kids, especially when it's hard.

I also think you should:

Get off fucking Facebook. You're not 17, no matter how much you want to be.

Stop pretending to "get" Lady Gaga. I could puke from the number of times I hear parents say stupid fucking parent things like "Well she's controversial, sure, but she's really talented!". Is she? Would you actually know what "really talented" is? Or are you getting confused by the meat dress? She wrote some catchy songs that seem very derivative of Madonna. She can sing. Feh, whatever. But please don't act like your goddam Phil Spector spotting talent, because frankly, I doubt you know.

Newsflash, 50 is not really the new 30. It's still 50. You also suck at math. Jesus! And btw, 30 is still ancient to your kids anyway.

No matter how cool you think you are, you aren't cool. It's a law of nature. You can't fight it with your Gaga love or new math or any other shit. So please, put all of that aside and just step up, embrace your nerdy self and parent your kids like they need to be parented.

Your kids (and the world) will thank you. Probably in some very indirect way like by asking you to buy more pizza pops or bitching about their texting plan.

International Woman of Communication -- whatever

We went to Mexico over the holidays. I had never been to Mexico before and I loved it, but I was a little disappointed to learn that pronouncing things with a Spanish accent is not exactly the same as speaking fluent Spanish.

Me to son: No, don't worry, I speak Spanish fluently. Cinco de Mayo, por favor.

Well, it turns out I don't because pronouncing English words with a Spanish accent, is also not technically the same thing as actually speaking Spanish. It would be a lot easier if the Mexicans would just do that though.

And by the way I also speak Italian fluently: Pizza! Cappuccino! Nona!