I used to have a floor in my bedroom

Johnny and I are at war with our laundry. Yesterday I was cleaning out Johnny's closet and I found a T-shirt that was advertising some sort of car wash. I'm sure, in it's glory days, this was a great shirt…however it is now faded and has arm pit holes.

I asked Johnny, "Baby can we throw this away?"

He looked at me like I had asked him to give up all of his worldly possessions and join a monastery. So I guess the Safeway Cleaning shirt stays.

Johnny's laundry is sneaky stuff. I'll have it all contained and happy in its little hamper when I leave for work in the morning. I come home and it looks like a laundry bomb has gone off. I know there is a hardwood floor under there somewhere. I'm convinced that his laundry gets hungry and eats my laundry, because I used to have socks...not so much any more.

The dirty clothes (some of which I am convinced are clean) not only terrorize the bedroom, but they have been known to ambush the living room and kitchen. My favorite is when Johnny comes home from the gym and puts his sweaty, smelly shirts and shoes on the furniture. It's like a shrine of stinky manliness right there in the middle of the living room.

How am I supposed to keep this clean? I've tried various reward systems…like if you stop throwing your dirty underwear in the middle of the hallway you can pick out the movie we watch tonight. I've tried bribing him with Mexican food, sexual favors, and money.

This does not work.

So my battle with the laundry continues…he's worth it though.

So these new baked cheetos are good for me?

Um, actually I would think that anything leaving a toxic glowing neon orange residue all over the place should probably not be ingested. I know, I know… "it's just so good when it hits your lips".

And as for the "baked" part…okay, I bake cookies, I bake chocolate cake…I could bake a pound of lard if I wanted to. Just because it is baked, does not mean it's healthy.

What are Cheetos anyway?

Civilians may never exactly know. I'm sure there is some secret society that protects all of the recipes for the Crunchy Cheetos, Cheeto puffs, Chili Cheetos and so on. And if one were to discover these secrets they would have to be killed.

Actually, according to the ingredients they are not much more than enriched white corn, sodium, fat and food coloring.

Now here's an idea, let's put a cartoon character on the box to get all of the children. Yes, we want kids to be begging their mommies to buy the Cheetos because Chester says it's cool. And we wonder why we have these chubby little kids running around everywhere.

Oh, and I love the idea of the 100 calorie Cheetos "asteroids". Yes, you can still enjoy your favorite little salty snack, and only 100 calories. Like people don't have enough self control to not eat the whole bag of Cheetos, and actually they don't. In a package of Asteroids you get 0.62 oz of Cheetos, that's something like nine Cheetos. So that's pretty pointless.

I think I'm going to hold out for the Cheetos scented bubble bath and body lotion gift set.

He's Just Special

I have been so looking forward to taking Crux to the 3rd annual dog swim at Fassnight Park.
I'd like to say that Crux (my year old boxer) is very well-mannered and he obeys almost every command I make…but I would be lying my ass off.

We managed to make it through the parking lot and into the line. Crux was already pummeling small children and sniffing other puppy private parts.

After proving to the park board that he was foaming at the mouth because he was just really excited and not because he has rabies, we were allowed in the pool gates. Crux was off… slipping and sliding, and shaking all over the place, and pooping all over the place. We actually spent a great deal of the time running after him with the complimentary get-your-dogs-shit-off-the-pool-deck bags.

He jumped in the pool once…almost drowned…jumped in again…almost drowned…and this continued for about an hour.

It was like my mothers worst nightmare, a bunch of wet dogs licking everyone. and slobbering all over the place. I loved it.

Although he was gang raped by a group of Labradors, first in show in the poop division, and the only dog asked to leave because he cut his foot and was bleeding all over the other dogs…I think the event was a success, can't wait for next year!

The Gillette Sensor for Women is a Toy of Death

I was once told that I was not allowed to play with sharp objects...I was two. Now sometime between two and twenty-five I have managed to turn almost everything I touch into a weapon of destruction.

I have been using Johnny's razors to shave my legs for about two years now. My old razor fell prey to my bedazzlement and subsequently became a mess of moldy hot glue. I figure what is the difference between man razors and women razors?

I go to Wal-Mart (I know it's sick and twisted...but cheap) and I see this statuesque pink and silver razor at the check out line. I buy it, I take it home.

This morning I'm in the shower, singing and soaping and reading the fascinating descriptions of various shampoos and conditioners, the usual. And I whip out this impulse buy, ready to treat my legs to a "smoother, cleaner shave".

Maybe they should change the packaging to say "Call into work late because you are looking for enough Band-Aids to retain the blood caused by multiple puncture wounds to the knee and ankle areas".

Now my legs are all torn up, I'm late, and it looks like slaughter house five just went down in my bathroom. Seriously, little bloody dog footprints all over the place. I am going to use man razors forever!