VD is for Everybody!

Who knew? I thought it only belonged to skanky meth whores, but apparently we can ALL get in on the action!



And speaking of meth... (Thanks, Tim)

PG Porn

Nathan Fillion! "And by my hammer, I mean my penis..." I loved Dr. Horrible... And Firefly... And Nathan...


I like how the porn stars actually seem to be genuinely enjoying the experience of making these shorts:

Alternate Ending for The Wizard of Oz

We turned on the TV and Thriller was playing. Before I could reach for the remote, my three year old daughter got an eyeful of Michael Jackson turning into a werewolf, in all his Rick Baker-esque grotesque glory.

As I mentally calculated the cost of her impending therapy, she continued to watch the music video with a great amount of interest and even delight, and so... I let her. I taught her the word "zombies" and she totally denied that Michael was a boy. She's going to grow up thinking Thriller is a kinky lesbo-horror music video. So we decided to show her The Wizard of Oz, thinking the creepy Wicked Witch of the West would be just as appealing for her... Turns out, she's scarier!

Anyway, here's a video I happened to come across... Dorothy has a point, there:

RIP Michael Jackson.

Good lord. Michael Jackson died. Though, frankly, he died for me a long time ago... I'm guessing this isn't some sort of weird hoax...
Man, he used to be so cool. I wanted that red jacket so badly.

Flashbacks of the Fecal Kind

It's funny starting all over again. The late night feedings, the weird evolution of the poo (resulting in rolicking games of "Guess What Color the Poo is Now?"), trying to remember to take fifty-billion things along with us even on the "simplest" of outings... But it really is the diaper experience which really brings back some fond memories of the first time I went through all this.

I recall with particular fondness the 2am feeding and diaper change which resulted in my daughter projecting a glob of yellow poo at least two and a half feet onto the carpet before I was able to get the second diaper positioned in time. I am pretty proud to say I wasn't upset, so much as frantic to get the stain up before it set in. I have since adopted the Speedy Switch technique to avoid repeats.

Another highlight of my diaper career involved the time a little bit of said yellow poo snuck out of the "leak proof diaper" onto my daughter's onesie near the poppers at her crotch. I scrubbed at it with a wipe and was pretty pleased with the results. Even my overly paranoid first-time-mother eyes could not detect the slightest mark on her onesie. Then I lifted her bottom up to put the new diaper underneath her, only to then find that the majority of her poo had, in fact, evaded her diaper completely and oozed its way up her back, leaving a fabulously enormous poo stain right above her diaper. Shit. Literally.

Good times, good times...

Every one has a good poo story, be it their own or that of their offspring. Please feel free to share, it won't gross me out. I've become strangely ambivalent towards excrement. It's great how one's standards can drop...

Quick Update.

My mum's in town, so blogging has taken even more of a backseat than when the baby arrived. It's now so far in the backseat, it's in the trunk. I figure you're all big boys and girls who are not so sad as to get your exclusive kicks here, so I'm not worried.

With way too much to do, too few hands with which to do it all, and breasts that spontaneously lactate for many, many reasons, I now tend to get a lot done looking like a freaking T-Rex with my forearms pressed against my boobs.

I got Rock Band 2. Pity the children who will have to hear my singing as well as my cursing my way through the drumming.

My new child is bent on getting into the Guinness Book of Records for being the fattest little tyke known to man. She looks like a short mafia don, what with the little baldish head and cheeks that put Winston Churchill to shame.

I saw my belly dance instructor perform a couple of days ago and it brought tears to my eyes because I miss dancing and feeling the beat. Then I look down and see the little pooch of a belly and realize I've GOT to get back to it. But with a more concealing outfit this time around...

I pumped just so I could have a little wine at a tasting in a wine store. I got slightly drunk. Hey, I'm a light weight AND they gave generous samples. I'm a cheap date.

Life is still damn good. Here's a music video to chill out to. Enjoy:

Literal Music Videos

Ever wished songs and their music videos were better matches? Especially for Total Eclipse of the Heart which had bugger all to do with the lyrics... Well, here you go:

Pardon Me While I Slip Into Something More Embarrassing...

My science teacher was the unfortunate deliverer of the ultimate Freudian slip. Of cosmic proportions. I only wish I was there, but I was grateful for his sharing his humiliation with me. And thus the web.

He was teaching the students about sexually transmitted diseases and various ways in which they might be transmitted in the hopes of dispelling myths and old wives tales. Seriously, I had a student who was convinced that drinking a 2 liter of Mountain Dew after having sex would act as a morning after pill... Another thought that if the girl was standing up and jumped up and down afterwards there would be no fear of pregnancy either... Another thought that you could catch AIDS from toilet seats (maybe if you sat on a seat studded with broken glass right after a crack whore...) so they need all the dispelling they can get when it comes to sex.

Anyway, he was trying to explain how the membranes that line a woman's vagina is an awful lot like the lining of your mouth. What he TRIED to say next was that the nature of the lining of your mouth allows you experience the tastes of the food you eat and why "FOOD TASTES SO GOOD", but instead this is the gem that came out:

"... So the lining of your mouth is the same, which is why vaginas taste so good."

He later reflected with me that even though he had no idea of what he'd just said, he knew something was wrong when the kid in the back (aka Rip Van Winkle) actually lifted his drool covered face off of his desk and stared quizzically at his teacher. After some quiet giggling, a girl raised her hand and said "Do you know what you just said?" and proceeded to quote the statement back to him.

I told him that, on the bright side, if the kids run home to tell their parents what Mr. Science Teacher said, we'd have a great turn out of mothers to the next parent-teacher conference night and the worst he'd probably get is a few winks and giggles. 

I love seeing guys blush and this young man is going to be good for that, I can tell.

This Morning Giggles

Pretty busy at the mo', so here are a couple of clips of British morning show presenters completely losing it over unintended sexual innuendos. Forgive the laughter on the second one, it must have been aired to an audience or something...

You Know What Sucks?

Looking at my lottery ticket and seeing four of its numbers in LAST week's lottery drawing. Dammit. I feel like an idiot for even buying a lottery ticket.

What Few People Warn You About When it Comes to Making Babies

So my mother never really sat me down to give me the Birds and the Bees speech (she gave me this GREAT book for teenagers instead, which I was eternally grateful for. I really didn't need to hear my mother say the words "penis", "vagina", "ejaculate", or "reverse cow-girl"). The real problem lay in the fact that neither did she really give me warnings about what to expect when it came to the result of said Birds and the Bees activity, namely being pregnant and the experiences that follow thereafter. Here is a list of things that startled naive little ol' TeacherLady:

1) Your hips may suddenly get wider way before your belly even starts to grow, so you think you've got time before you have to break out the muu-muus and the wide load pants, but nooo...

 

2) You can't sleep comfortably on your back for most of the pregnancy. I honestly did not know this until I tried it and felt like my blood vessels were being impeded like a hose with a kink in it.

 

3) I didn't know I'd have to prop up my belly when lying on my side, so it wouldn't hang painfully towards the bed like an enormous third breast. I love my maternity pillow.

4) That I'd get heartburn that would cause me to choke on my own vomit quite spontaneously in the middle of the night. (It happened so often I started to refer to the experiences as my "Janice Joplin Moments". Insensitive? Yes, accurate description, yes as well.)

5) I would never (without being under the influence of an extremely mentally debilitating disease or some really bad acid) have imagined in a billion years that the nurses would have the gall to ask me 15 pages' worth of questions while I'm lying on the hospital bed undergoing contractions every 2.5 minutes. Bear in mind, when I say 2.5 minutes apart, that is measured from the start of one contraction to the start of the next... Not giving me much of a reprieve in between.

6) I had no idea I'd produce "enough milk for a small nation" as the infant nutrition specialist put it. This means that when my children suddenly decide to pull away, I then spray my poor  unsuspecting offspring in the face with milk. And my arm. And my t-shirt. And my bra. And my sofa.

7) No one told me that drinking really cold water  could make me spontaneously start lactating. I knew to expect it when hearing a child cry, but even looking at my baby can do it to me too. My husband says he wishes he had that effect on me. I'm glad he doesn't. My clothes are soggy enough. Leaning forward makes me lactate too.

8) No one thought to mention projectile poops. My child's not my own. Nuff said.

9) Not one helpful soul warned me that I'd have the longest period of my life after having a baby and would, at first, require pads the size of place mats. Not one. I'm just sayin'.

10) What no one could ever warn me about is how enormously overwhelming my feelings are for my little ones. I'd crawl through hot coals, broken glass, and a Hansen concert for my babies. God help their future suitors. 

EDIT: I must also add that NO ONE ever mentioned mastitis. Freaking OW. It's like having a toothache in your boob.