Forgive Me *snicker*

For M, on chemo Friday eve ♥

Tomorrow would normally be a “Totally Random Friday” post, but I’ve got a few things to say and am just going to put it out there tonight. Imagine that! Me, of all people, speaking up to say something. I know, right? I’m just as surprised as you are.

Growing up I wasn’t one to “rock the boat.” I took alot of shit growing up for being really smart and being overweight; I certainly didn’t want to call more attention to myself. I always tried to keep the peace. I kept my opinions to myself unless they were the opinions of the majority because I didn’t want to stick out like a sore thumb. I hid my atheism until after college because, believe me, being an atheist growing up in the Bible Belt is just leaving yourself open for a shit ton of harassment and preaching. It was not until after I left my first marriage when I started really sticking up for myself and my opinions (except within my immediate family—I’ve always done that). My first husband was a verbally and emotionally abusive douchebag, and toward the very end of our relationship he got physically abusive as well. By the time our relationship was over and done with I had no self-esteem at all. I realized that I had two choices:  I could live meekly and fly under the radar, or I could be strong, opinionated, open, and agree to disagree with people. I chose the latter.

Jennifer “MckMama” McKinney released a statement on MWOP and her FB page the other day announcing to the world that she got a lawyer and is taking all of us down. She named a few names. My attorney friends and legal research has shown that she doesn’t have a Pampered Chef pot to piss in. She closed the letter out with this:

“Anyone reading this who would like to come clean, apologize or share any information confidentially with me is free to email me at [email redacted]. Thanks!”

Really? Are you fucking kidding me?

Jennifer McKinney is a public figure. She has willingly made a life for herself, her (soon-to-be-ex) husband, and her children on her blog; she posts a ton of photos, tells all about their days, medical problems, struggles, etc. She has chosen to turn a hobby into a career with a six-figure annual salary. Over 24,000 people follow her on Twitter, and she maintains her own Facebook fan page with 12,000+  likes. She was a guest speaker at Blissdom and wrote for the “Million Moms” campaign. She has been featured on “Good Morning America” and on local television stations where she once lived. She makes her living from her readers; they click on her blog ads, they pay to take her photo classes, they pay for photo shoots, and they buy her diet pills. When Stellan was ill her faithful readers (of which I was one) gifted her with free nights at a hotel adjacent to the hospital, free massages, a ton of free food, and eleventy gajillion dollars worth of gift cards.

As a public figure Jennifer must accept the scrutiny that goes with being in the limelight. Your moves, looks, finances, and every other detail is scrutinized. Not everyone will like you or agree with you. Your actions, both blogged about versus what is known in public and court documents, is fair game. There is a difference in being an anonymous person and folks talking about you and being a public figure and folks talking about you. Just ask Dooce, Pioneer Woman, The Bloggess, and other famous mommy bloggers. Hell, ask other public figures like politicians, celebrities, athletes, and anyone else who lives in the public eye.

In my humble opinion Jennifer is grasping at straws and attempting to deflect attention from her current situation. Many times on her blog she wrote (and screenshots have been captured) that her back taxes were paid off and they were paying off their debts. That information is false, and information about her financial fuckery is now available to the public. It is now a matter of public record that she and Israel are $750,000 dollars in the hole. It is public record that she claimed her 2011 income was  $55,000 when in fact it was over $148,000. The audio tape of her bankruptcy creditors meeting is a matter of public record; for your information, audio recordings of court proceedings (when available) ARE FREE AND ARE A MATTER OF PUBLIC RECORD. No one from MWOP “pulled strings” or set out to maliciously harm Jennifer; she just didn’t want her lies to be known. Jennifer is pointing fingers at MWOP readers and the site administrator (spelled A-N-J-A) claiming that we are purposely telling lies and untruths; she even had the audacity to say that some anonymous persons set up a fake PayPal account and put money in it to get her in trouble. Remember….this woman paid $12,000 for an RV out of her PayPal account, and she had nearly $60,000 in deposits in PayPal during 2011. It is virtually impossible to set up a fake PayPal account. You have to supply personal information, SSN, your bank information has to match your personal information exactly—-and how can you open a fake bank account? They even take a thumb print at some banks now. This whole matter just smacks of blame and deflection. What it boils down to is this:  Jennifer is in deep crap with the bankruptcy court and the US Trustee. Her bankruptcy will almost certainly be denied, and the trustee is moving for the court to dismiss her bankruptcy under a certain part of the law which would saddle her with that debt until it is paid off (meaning she can’t file bankruptcy again for those debts). The US Trustee stated in his latest court filing that the debtors fraudulently and knowingly made a false oath or account. He called her out on failing to disclose her PayPal account. He called her out on lying about her income. He called her out on a bunch of other stuff, but my fingers are starting to hurt. You’ll just have to read it.

I love how Jennifer thinks that she deserves apologies from people. Really? How big of an ego does this woman have? If anything she needs to apologize to the American taxpayers for attempting to bilk us out of nearly a million dollars to cover her debts. She needs to apologize to her creditors, the IRS, and her landlord on the farm. She needs to apologize to her faithful readers who seem to genuinely care about her. She needs to right her wrongs and own up to them. Pointing fingers and shouting, “Fire!” in an attempt to deflect attention from yourself is really shitty.

I have talked about Jennifer McKinney on my blog. Some things I have said are factual:  Jennifer is a liar and cheat, and that was proven in black and white court documents. Some of what I have discussed is my opinion, and when I have written my opinions I have stated as such. I have never threatened or contacted Jennifer McKinney. She chooses to live her life in the public eye, and, as a member of the public, I am entitled to my opinion.

But, to be a team player, Jennifer, I will come forward and apologize.

O MckMama, forgive me for my transgressions.

I am sorry I ever clicked on a “Pray for Stellan” button and discovered you.
I am sorry I clicked on your page thousands of times from 2008 until late 2010.
I am sorry I ever asked my husband if we could send you something (we didn’t because we couldn’t afford it.)
I am sorry I ever read about your life and felt like less of a mother because my kids don’t eat organically, drink raw milk, are vaccinated, and because I choose to utilize public schools.
I am sorry that I blindly believed you for so long.
I am sorry for being a big, stupid meany head and not liking the person you have turned out to be.
I am sorry for being a strong enough woman to tell you that.
I am sorry that your mentality seems to be, “If I’m going down then I’m taking everyone with me!”
I am sorry that I feel sorry for you and the kids.

You brought this all on yourself. No one from MWOP or any other “naysayer” made you not pay your taxes, utility bills, mortgage payments, car payments, or medical bills. We didn’t make you go shopping and travel. We didn’t make you eat expensive organic food and eat out alot. We didn’t make you lie under oath. We didn’t even hurt your income! We didn’t make you sign legal documents stating that your information was true and accurate. We didn’t repossess your Cadillac Escalade and Israel’s Dodge Ram. We didn’t make you and your husband separate.

You can continue to point fingers and tell folks that we are big stupid meanies and have cooties. You have made your bed; now you need to lie down in it.


My Baby Pooped!

I know it’s probably not cool to title a blog post after the defecating habits of my 10 month old, but lately we get excited ’round these parts when P poops because he has been so constipated after we switched formulas. Good job, buddy! Mama is proud of you! It is funny, however, that the little tyke will only do #2 when he is in his exersaucer. We laugh and laugh when he gets fussy and antsy, and we know that it isn’t nap or bottle time. I plop him down, and he immediately does his business (when he’s not constipated). I just love that funny little guy; he is my chubby blob of cuteness.

As for me, I’ve had a rough morning as a single mother. Did I tell you my husband left us? He did. Anyway, I went into the kitchen this morning, half awake mind you, to make a pot of coffee. I got it going then sojourned to the bathroom to brush my teeth. Upon putting the brush in my mouth and taking a few swipes at my teeth I discovered that I didn’t use toothpaste; I used diaper cream, and this particular diaper cream is thick and sticky. I’m gargling water and gagging, gargling and gagging, gargling and gagging. The problem is this:  water will not remove this cream from the skin, and, as I discovered, water won’t remove it from teeth either. The only thing that removes this gunky cream is a baby wipe. I knew what I had to do. I grabbed a baby wipe and wiped my teeth and gums down. It tasted so awful. Even as I type this I still have a vague, sticky feeling along my teeth and gums, and when I burped a second ago I swear I tasted Pampers Sensitive brand wipes. So, after the tooth brushing debacle, I head into the kitchen for some coffee and find that I have brewed a pot of hot water. I forgot to put coffee grounds in the coffeemaker. *facepalm* To make matters worse, as I was doing housework this morning I kept having wedgies; my underwear would not stay out of my butt. I went to pee and realized that I had put my panties on backward this morning as well. As a precaution, I don’t think I’m going to leave the house today or operate any vehicles and heavy machinery.

My grocery store (a major chain store) sent me a leaflet in the mail yesterday with 4 coupons for their “Most Loyal and Valued Customers!” Those coupons totaled a whopping $1.60 in savings. Are you fucking kidding me?!? And to save $0.40 on each item I had to buy two of them! Really, Frys? You can’t help a mama out with more than $1.60 in savings?

I’m off to make G breakfast and do some laundry.

Snort out!

A Difficult Season For Sure

I am a single mother again this week. Sad. Hopeful. Lonely. Exuberant. Mad. But strong. J decided over the weekend to abandon me, Footlong, and 6-inch. He left yesterday, suitcase in hand. On a fixed wing aircraft. Direct flight to Atlanta. A brief layover was his and then a connecting flight to Savannah. I’m praying him home. I anticipate late Friday night for the working of my prayers. Say around 10 pm or so.

My surely sweet souled mini-adults have buoyed their mama tremendously with her sadness. Did you know there is a place where children can eat pizza and playing games is theirs? Rides too? A place like that is such; it’s called Chuck-E-Cheese. You can visit chuckecheese DOT com for special deals on tokens. Licked a piece of pizza with a look of wonderment on his face 6-inch did. It was beautiful. He looked amazed. “Mama,” his face thoughts conveyed to me, “this tastes so much better than synthetic milk you but in my baby-friendly drinking receptacle!” Wolf down three slices of pepperoni pizza Footlong did with a burp to boot!

Today will be spent having quality time on the internet since I paid attention to the kids yesterday. Footlong has a list of chores, and 6-inch was told that he must change his own diapers. I need some me, me, me time on my computer and phone. They missed me yesterday. They missed me. I don’t know if J did but I’m sure he did but I’m not positive so I’ll say he might have missed me.

Where is Footlong with my vegan non-dairy macrobiotic breakfast? FOOTLONG! FOOOOOOTLONG! MY BREAKFAST WHERE IS IT? 

Oh fuck it. I’ll just have a donut.

This is a gramatically incorrect work of fiction. Duh.

Toasted Honey or Bubble Gum?

Disclaimer:  If the earlier mention of “vajazzling” had you skeeved out then just go ahead and skip today’s post. You have been warned.

I was watching a repeat episode of Saturday Night Live the other day. Have I mentioned that it has been my favorite show since I saw my first episode in the 7th grade? In this episode there is a parody of the Kardashian family that was awesome. Observe:

It got me to thinking:  why on earth would anybody get their anus bleached? Seriously? Unless you work in porn or pose for medical textbooks, why get your anus bleached? I just don’t get it.

First off:  where do you go for a bleaching? I haven’t seen any anus salons around town. I’ve never seen commercials for anal bleaching. Great Clips doesn’t have it listed on the display board along with haircuts and shampoos. Do you just call around? “Salon Awesomeo. How can I help you?” “Um, yeah, I want to get my butthole touched up. Do you guys do that?”  *crickets*

Again, let me mention that I am a visual person. How does this go down? You lay on your stomach flipping through a back issue of Vogue and chatting about your kids and the weather while a stranger rubs medicinal grade Clorox on you? Do they show you a color palette so you can decide what color asshole to get? “Let’s see….with your skin tone I think Toasted Honey or Bubble Gum would look really nice, but I wouldn’t go any lighter than Fields of Wheat or Candelabra ’cause it just wouldn’t look natural.” Is it like getting your hair highlighted? They apply the stinky solution, put foil over your ass, then plop you down under the dryer for 30 minutes? How often do you go for touch ups?

I get that some people want to feel pretty and confident, but do we need a rhinestone studded hoo-ha and designer asshole to feel that way? Seriously? I feel pretty and confident after having a shower, shaving my legs, and putting on make-up. And why isn’t there an at home anal bleaching product so you can avoid the embarassment of going into a salon and announcing to the receptionist, “Hi, I’m Snort, and I have a 3:30 with Carissa for an anal bleaching!” Hello?!?  Crest Buttstrips maybe? Or “I Can’t Believe It’s Anal Bleach!”

I leave you with the thing I wonder the most:  who in the fuck came up with this idea?

Memorial Day

Today is Memorial Day; it is a day set aside to remember those brave Americans who selflessly gave their lives in service to our country. It is a solemn day of remembrance and of tribute.

Do you know what chaps my ass about Memorial Day? Let me tell you. A majority of Americans do not know how to celebrate this holiday. All I read on FB is “Happy Memorial Day!” or “So thankful for a three day weekend!” and “Can’t wait to light the grill, have a few beers, and celebrate Memorial Day at the pool!” The consumer industry is same; if you ask a child what Memorial Day is I bet they will tell you it is the day when mattresses, furniture, and cars are on sale for one day only. Really? Is this what we have reduced Memorial Day to:  BBQ, beer, a three day weekend, and 0% down and 36 months same as cash on a new living room set?

This Memorial Day please stop to think of those who lost their life so you can enjoy your burgers, beer, pool parties, and rock bottom pricing on a new 2012 vehicle. These soldiers were fathers, mothers, wives, husbands, sons, daughters, brothers, sisters, and friends. They were real people. Their loved ones grieve their loss. It is because of those who have served in our military that we have the freedom to say and do what we choose. It is only appropriate that we honor and remember the fallen in the respectful manner they deserve.

To our fallen heroes:  thank you for sacrificing your life so that we as Americans can continue to be free. Thank you to your families who stood by you and supported you.

Jennifer McKinney posted a blog post last night of two of her sons; she titled it “Band of Brothers.” On Memorial Day of all days. Way to hunt for page clicks, Jen. I didn’t expect anything less from her; why should she honor the fallen when she can’t even be bothered to tell the truth under oath? Get a clue you disrespectful imbecile.

Totally Random Friday

For M, on Chemo Friday  ♥

Another Friday, another shit storm of random [SNORT] stuff:

  • I went last night and got my nails done as my own nails are too thin and brittle to grow long. The nail salon I go to is wonderful, and they offer full-service waxing as well:  lip, eyebrow, arms, legs, bikini (if you can’t be bothered to lift your belly out of the way to shave), etc. Adorning the wall last night was a giant, bright, new sign that said, “We Now Offer Vajazzling!” Oh. My. Fucking. Hell. It was all I could do not to laugh. If you don’t know what vajazzling is, let me enlighten you:  it is bedazzling for your lady business. You read that right. You get your lady business waxed, and the technician will glue sparkly crystals all over your hoo-ha for decoration. Really? I am a visual person, and just imagining the process had me choking back giggles:  legs up in the air telling a complete stranger to put Hello Kitty on your lady bits. And then what? You go home, have sex, and leave a bunch of stones covering the bed, stuck to your panties, and find that you have passively penazzled your husband? Does anyone ever have to do the Heimlich because their lover chokes on a fake ruby? Do you forget that you have it and go to the gynecologist the following week for your annual visit and let them see what remains of the words “Sexy Bitch?” I would die of embarassment if my gyno got me in the stirrups and saw week old crystals that haphazardly spelled “Sex itch” on my lady business. The whole thing is ridiculous to me much like my college roomie who used to put body glitter “down there” to make “it” all sparkly (apparently she didn’t like hers enough to give it a nickname). It’s a vagina y’all; it ain’t supposed to look like a denim jacket from the 1980s.

  • I hate sushi. I do. I feel guilty about it because it is so popular and healthy, but I can’t stand it. I’ve tried it with different kinds of fish, eel, roe, cream cheese, soy paper instead of seaweed, brown rice instead of white rice, and just pieces of fish atop rice with no veggies or seaweed. I just can’t make myself like it. The very first time I tried it was the fall of 1996 when one of my besties from HS came home from college in Macon for the weekend; we went to Mikata, which is one of those Japanese-cook-in-front-of-you-places where the chefs fling eggs in the air, do death defying knife tricks, and make jokes about Japanese Coca-Cola (soy sauce) and Japanese egg roll (spinning a whole egg in circles on the grill). James ordered some sushi for us to split, and I ate two pieces and promptly broke out in hives. I have just never had a relationship with sushi….until now. My grocery store was recently renovated and expanded, and they now have a sushi bar and sell ready-made sushi to go. I figured I’d try a new one, and I love it. The thing is though is that it’s not really sushi. It’s sushi for wimps. It has imitation crab meat (nothing raw) and cucumbers wrapped in seaweed and rice and then covered with spicy mayo and topped with French’s fried onions. I know it is cheating, but it’s the only one I like. I feel like one of those vegetarians who still eats chicken.

  • G was telling me the other day that on the cartoon “Fairly Odd Parents” they make “Very Cherry Brownies.” We have brownie mix, and I offered to make him a batch of brownies; I also told him that I could have to substitute Craisins for cherries. He said, “Awesome! I’ll write you the recipe!” One thing you should know about my spunky 6 year-old is that he loves to write and draw. He has learned enough about phonics in kindergarten to spell things as they sound. He was soooooooooo proud when he gave me this (my translation is on the right):

“Frey-Cherey-Brney”                                          “Very Cherry Brownie”                           
Chklit Badr                                                            chocolate batter
Crenbereyz                                                            cranberries
makwuwwewv 15 mitits                                        microwave 15 minutes             

          I was stunned! That little booger actually wrote (somewhat) a recipe! I am having it framed to 
          hang in the kitchen. I wanted to post a picture but our scanner/printer is broken.

  • I was watching “Chopped” on the Food Network last night; it is a cooking competition where professional chefs compete against one another to become the next big thing, like Mario Batali or Bobby Flay. The premise of the cooking challenges is simple; the chefs are given a box containing 4 mystery ingredients that they must use to make an entree/appetizer/dessert in 30 minutes. They can get additional ingredients from the pantry, but the 4 mystery ingredients must be used. The part I saw last night was for an entree challenge. They lifted their mystery boxes to reveal:  fresh horseradish root, snap peas, oats (snicker), and……wait for it……goat chops. I think I may have peed on myself from laughing so hard. If you know why I’m laughing then good for you! If you don’t then you’ll just have to trust me that the oats, goat meat, and whipping up a dish with odd ingredients has some meaning and that meaning is “funniest most ironic shit in the world.”

  • 5 or 6 of you that read my “The Joy of Crapping” post let me know that I negated to use finishing salt. I didn’t. I will be devoting an entire chapter in the crapbook to starting salt, finishing salt, middle salt, obnoxious spices and dried fruits, and various expensive, weird, melty oils. You’re welcome.

The Joy of Crapping

I have thought long and hard about this venture, and I have decided to write a crapbook. A crapbook, you say? Snort, what is this crapbook of which you speak? A crapbook is a book written by someone who thinks throwing random crap in a bowl is cooking. It isn’t cooking. It is crapping as far as I am concerned. Using that logic, a cook would write a cookbook, and a crap will write a crapbook.

Now, let’s not get ahead of ourselves. I anticipate The Joy of Crapping will be a rather large book with many chapters dedicated to family favorites, my favorites, and recipes I literally throw together at the last minute. This is an overview of the first chapter in The Joy of Crapping:  appetizers!

serves 6

6 slices of 100% whole wheat bread, toasted
2 bananas, sliced
6 fried eggs, julienned
1 cup goat milk cream cheese
1 bunch dill, finely minced
1/4 cup roasted peanuts, crushed
6 Tbsp ranch dressing
Smucker’s Chocolate Magic Shell ice cream topping

Spread each slice of toast with cream cheese then top evenly with bananas, eggs, dill, peanuts, and ranch dressing. Drizzle each slice with ice cream topping and let harden. Using a chainsaw, cut each piece of toast into 4 pieces so that each person can have 4 canapés. Excellent served with Boones Farm strawberry wine OR a jigger of Listerine.

Cocktail Weenies
serves 6

12 Tofurkey tofu hotdogs cut into 1/2″ rounds
1 jar blueberry preserves
1 C. agave nectar
juice of 1 lime
1  can of black beans, drained

In a crockpot heat blueberry preserves, agave nectar, lime juice, and beans until hot and melty. Add slices of Tofurkey.  Set out toothpicks for guests to stab their own slices.

Jell-O Salad
serves 6

1 pack lime Jell-O
1 pack lemon Jell-O
1/4 lb. smoked salmon, hunked
2 ribs celery, diced
1 onion, finely minced
1/2 tsp garlic powder
12 ripe strawberries, sliced
1 carrot, diced
handful of red grapes, halved
1/2 C. raw broccoli

Mix Jello-O flavors together and prepare according to package directions. Place Jell-O in novelty mold and chill. When chilled Jell-O is the consistency of egg whites stir in all ingredients (except Cool-Whip) and then let Jell-O set for at least 12 hours. Serve slices of Jell-O on a bed of romaine lettuce and top with Cool-Whip.

Cheese Ball
serves 6

1 tub yak milk cream cheese (or you can milk your yak and make homemade cheese)
2 scallions, minced
1/2 C. cold, cooked quinoa
1/4 C. chunky almond butter
2 kiwi, sliced
1/2 C. minced raw cauliflour
1/3 C. gummy bears
3 lbs cilantro

Mix all ingredients (except cilantro) into softened yak cheese. Place mixture back into cheese tub and refrigerate several hours until firm. Mince the 3 pounds of cilantro and spread it evenly over your work surface. Empty container of firm, chilled cheese mixture into mountain of cilantro; roll the cheese blob left and right and back and forth and to and fro and this way and that way until it is ball-shaped and covered with cilantro. Sprinkle with remaining cilantro. Serve with Oreo cookies or toast points.

Family Favorite Super Creamy Hummus
serves 12

1 jar coconut oil
4  8-oz. tubs store bought hummus
1 can garbonzo beans, drained
2 tsp. garlic, minced
1 32-oz jar organic unsweetened applesauce
1/4 C. tahini
1 can organic pork brains

Puree garbonzo beans in blender. Add hummus, garlic, applesauce, tahini, and pork brains; blend until smooth. In a heavy skillet melt coconut oil over medium heat; when hot and liquified add to mixture in blender and blend until well mixed and no chunks remain. Put liquid mixture into a bowl and serve with raw broccoli, carrots, nori, vanilla sugar wafers, and organic blue corn tortilla chips for dipping.

7-Layer Dip

In a large bowl place these ingredients, in this order, from bottom to top:  2 cans pinto beans (pureed), 2 pounds cilantro greens, 6 sliced boiled eggs, 1 bag organic frozen raspberries, 3 cups cooked bulgur wheat, 2 cans hunked tuna, 2 cups pureed sweet potato. Top with chia seeds, flax meal, and melted I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter!. Scoop out of bowl with toy shovel and serve in a pita pocket. Serve hot for a hot pocket.