SHOCKING NEWS FLASH. Please sit down, absorb, and then rearrange your life accordingly.

So today, while perusing the internet, I see in the grand world of entertainment news, the very shocking reveal that Ricky Martin is not only Livin' la Vida Loca, but he is also... gay. *Gasp*

Really? Are we that board with the news of the never ending war? Or the fact that like half our country has been unemployed for like, ever? Or even what the hell my beloved Britney Spears has done to bring the redneck to Hollywood this week?

Shocking? People, where the fuck have you been. There is nothing shocking about a man like this coming out of the closet:


I'm sorry, but look at the man. He's hot as hell, sporting a deep cut v-neck T-shirt, and rockin' a gold necklace like no one's business. Of course, I'm not saying these things make him gay, but sure as hell don't make him straight. Anyway, everyone knows that straight guys can't display emotion with their eyes like that anyway ....

Besides, how many straight guys do you know take pics like this at the beach with their "friend"?


They are shaking out their towel for crying out loud. Clearly, this should have been a tell-tale sign of his sexual preference.

I mean finding out Ricky Martin is gay is about as shocking as finding out George Michael is gay. Enter WHAM! and Menudo. No one caught on then? I mean, don't all boy bands have at least ONE homosexual on the roster? Lance Bass anyone? I was also thinking that there was a gay theme going on with men with 2 first names, but Michael Scott blew that theory. "That's what she said."

Anyway - This is not a bash on Ricky, or his preferences when it comes to the heart. I'm a gay supporter and I'm ready to go to bat to get them all the rights they deserve... I'm just saying, if you did not know this, you are either a deaf, blind, mute who lives under a rock with their 80 year old grandmother, or you are living like those werid ass people in M. Night Shyamalan's, The Village. **Spoiler aleart!** Ironically enough its the blind, mute girl who gets the hell outta that crazy village and uncovers their shenanigans. See, even SHE would have known Ricky Martin is gay.

In any case, Ricky, do your damn thing. I'm happy you feel like its time to be yourself and let the world know officially that you are gay. Its way better than getting caught in the midst of something naughty by the paparazzi, just ask George Michael. Ricky, I'm proud of you, and glad that I can now call you gay without anyone arguing it. I will now resume dancing to "She Bangs" college style.

Oh - and I sent you a rainbow heart on Facebook.

Gay hand snaps,

Mel

Warbucks: the a-hole chronicles

I've been swamped with homework, and chi lattes that need drinkin' so its been some time since I've shown you doggie nipples or bitches going ape shit in the name of their offspring so I thought I'd give you a real treat: An intro course to all things husband. Yes - I'm going to blog about my my beloved hubs who happens to be the shiz-nit for even attempting to deal with me on the daily. Don't stop reading because you think this is going to turn into some mushy-gushy, lovey-dovey, sugar coated turd. Oh no friend - I'm giving you the REAL inside scoop on hubs. Yea - this here is the dank shit.

(I might add that right now it is 7:39am, and this is my first day back to the aforementioned crazy ass job as a part-timer. And, Since I'm a part-timer until the end of April, I thought working on my blog took precedence over doing anything productive. Isn't that what part-timers do?)

Ok - so back to my hubs. Lets see, how should I ease you into all things Warbucks? (By the way - Warbucks is a nickname he got when he made a very very POOR decision to shave his head clean to the scalp, while drunk as a college freshman at a hall crawl and influenced by a friend who has strange powers over other men when it comes to head shaving. This guy is like the skin head shaman of nonracisit white males. Its weird and creepy and I don't even try to understand it. He also happens to be a tank top wearing Floridian. Let's just say that my hubs and like 4 of his friends all had this shaved head bit going on at the same time. FYI - hubs has a Panera bread bowl for the back of a head. So, it ain't cute.)

Warbucks is, in a nutshell, 3 clicks of the futon away from losing his shit at any given point, in any given day. This is not to say that he is a scary, violent, fly off the handle type person. No. I'm just saying he is constantly battling the urge to punch you in the face. I'm actually starting to think he might be the creator of the "If I could punch you without getting in trouble, believe me I would" fan page on Facebook.

As my beloved Warbucks recently learned at a management training course, he is personality type "D". Basically this means, he is a nice person, who wants to help people, but only if they aren't stupid, sick, or in immediate need of anything. If you need a gun safe delivered 2 days from now, he's your man. If you need a friend to hang out with for beers next Thursday, he's there. If you need someone to chop some fire wood in the next 3-6 weeks, he'll make it happen. If you need something cleaned OCD style, he's all over it.
If you are suffering from the flu and can't walk to the bathroom without assistance, he will role his eyes at you and huff and puff while rubbing his face as if to say "HOLY SHIT, IF YOU DON'T GET BETTER LIKE RIGHT NOW I'M GOING TO START SHAKING FUCKING KITTENS."

This does not mean he is not a loving husband... He's the best and heart him like whoa. But we all have our issues. He rubs his face like this a lot now that I think about it. If he looks at my massive pile of unfolded clean clothes, he rubs his face. When he sees our daughter has pulled every possible dinosaur figurine she owns out and taken up the entire sitting room for a dinosaur dance party, he rubs his face. When he sees that while he was gone for a week I used EVERY spoon in the house without turning the dishwasher on to wash any of them, he rubs his face. Hmmm. I should consider this more....

Anyway - Warbucks is amazing. He is the hardest working guy I know, and he really is the sweetest ever. That said, he can be a total douche. As proven in his personality test which basically says that when it comes to his management style, "YOU DON'T GET ALONG WITH ANYONE. EVER. YOU THINK EVERYONE ELSE ON THE PLANET SUCKS AND YOU HAVE ZERO PATIENCE FOR THEIR BULLSHIT."

Don't believe me? Please gaze upon the following visual given to him in said report to aide in the translation of this information:

The closer you are to the center of the circle, the more likely you are to get along with other the personality types.
Please note that Warbucks' dot is WAYYYYY the hell over there - on the outter most ring of the chart.

Yes, in other words: YOU GET ALONG WITH NO ONE. I'm serious, I've worked with the guy. He says things like "Oh really? That sucks, because, I DON'T CARE." or "Yeah, that sounds like a problem, what are YOU going to do to fix it?" or my personal favorite, "Ok - I'll look into it, right after you clean the front desk with a q-tip."

So really all this is a round about way of saying that Warbucks should NOT be in retail. Or serving the public. In any way. At. All.
Ever.

However, this is just a sliver of the complex individual that is Warbucks. He's also super romantic, an amazing father, and totally willing to go to bat for his friends and family at any given time. Plus he's uber funny, which I dig. There are many sides to this amazing man, today I've just decided to feature his rough side, because, let's face it, so far this blog has been about pointing out how weird OTHER people are. Maybe, if you're lucky, this will become a reoccurring topic and you will someday get to see all sides of the dazzling Warbucks. In the meantime, I'm going to go wash some spoons.



Part-timers of the world, unite!!

Mel

Men's tank tops: a fair piece of journalism... or not.

So. I have a friend who L.O.V.Es him some tank tops. He also hearts my sad little blog, and so has asked me to "write about it in your story thingy." (Yes. Blog is a strange technical term to him that comes from a strange place where computers are portable and people don't use paper maps.)

However, I still thinks he's as cool as a dog on a skateboard so I agreed. He also requested that this not be a "tank bashing" read ... so I will try and be as fair as possible. That said, I'm totally anti-male tank tops and doubt I will have the ability to give a pro side to this.

Points for upfront honesty?

So - background. I'm from Florida, born and raised. The holy land of small clothing. The mecca of people who wear things they shouldn't. The idea of tank tops are not foreign to me... on ladies. I will also mention that I DO understand the need for a man tank undershirt ... after all, they have boobies too and no one likes that uncomfortable moment when you realize you can see someones nipples through their shirt. I don't care how sophisticated you are, nipple presentation makes eye contact hard.

This nipple rule pertains to all species.
Look how depressed mama dog is.
She just wants someone to notice she has green eyes.

So, I understand its hot, miserably hot at times, in Florida and other tropical lands of sweat and mystery. I understand that sometimes you just want to be casual. However, I think neither of these should ever equal the unattractive sporting of a male tank top. First of all, you could have the body of a Greek god and still not look good in a tank.

Point and case, Dionysus:

FYI:
Dionysus is the half-brother of the better known Apollo (already we have family drama).
He's the god of wine and drunken revelry.
No joke. Look it up.
Look how he looks all white trash like he's ignoring his kid and getting smashed... its only because of the addition of the tank.
Before the tank he looked all mythical and protective.
Now, hello front yard with cars on blocks, sofas on the porch, and sagging Christmas lights in June.

Only furthering my point that you have to be sunburnt and drunk to think you look good in a man tank. In Dionysus' case, he's made of marble, so sunburns are challenging, but you get the point.

Now there is always the staple "fat guy on the beach" who sports tanks and speedos. But I believe these people are important. Without extremes we would have nothing to measure against.

WE NEED FAT MAN IN TANK AND SPEEDO.
We do NOT need average man in tank. No.

So, my advice to you is, men, do not purchase a man tank if you are not:

a) fat guy on the beach
b) a lady
c) a gay guy in Bali (Let's face it, gay guys can work a tank.)

In general guys, you should never purchase clothing from a store that has frogs made from shells with googly eyes and sombreros. Also, taking a regular t-shirt and cutting off the sleeves does not make it any better. This might be worse.

So - friend who will remain anonymous, *cough, Jason*, I love you, but I think its time to retire the tanks. Unless that hot wife of yours is a front and your gay, in which case, you have my undying gay-tank support. Mad love.

Eat your fiber,

Mel

Tales from the Mama Bear diaries ...

My daughter is 7, going on 17. Yeah, you really do say shit like that when you have a kid. As well as other things like, "Because I said so." , "I swear I'll put everything on your bedroom floor in a trash bag if you don't pick it up NOW.", and my personal favorite: "Why did you wait until my ass HIT the toilet seat to call my name/scream as if your arm has been cut off?"

You quickly forget after having children, that at one point you had no idea what it was like to be responsible for the success of another human being. So this blog is dedicated to all those out there who have yet to have children and therefore are unaware of, what I like to call, the "Mama Bear" Syndrome.

"Mama Bear" Syndrome is known as the moment when, as a mother, you decide to use the FIGHT option of the fight or flight phenomenon. In other words, if you've been watching Bad Girls Club this season, you go Portia all over someone's ass.

Side note: I'm OBSESSED with this show and when Portia whooped Natalie's ass for talking smack about her 2 year old daughter.
I. Got. That.
I jumped off the couch and egged that shit on middle school style.

If you are unfortunate enough to not know about the Bad Girls Club, check out Portia's "Mama Bear" moment here.

You. Are. Welcome.

For those of you who do not know me well, I am a fairly even tempered person who does NOT enjoy conflict. However, let me tell you a little story about one of my "Mama Bear" moments.

Back in the fine year of 2004, my daughter was 2, and one of our dear friends was dating a girl named Sarah, but for the sake of her privacy we'll call her "Stupid Bitch".

Now, "Stupid Bitch" is the kind of girl who adopts whatever hobbies her current boyfriend participates in way too much. Shes also the type of girl who gets a "Pegasus" tattoo the size of a volleyball on her upper back and thinks this gives her some kind of magical right to be a total douche bag. Too bad that shit looked like a giant retarded non-gay supporting unicorn. Which, in my opinion is the worst kind of unicorn to be.

Anyway - said friends current hobby was riding Asian made motorcycles. "Stupid Bitch" decided she too was into crotch rockets and got her self a shiny purple helmet (that perfectly matched her anti-gay unicorn tattoo) and her own bike. I know, you can't help but love her already ... They show up at our house one afternoon as we are leaving to go for ice cream. Being the very nice person that I am, I invite them to come along. They agreed and said they would follow on their bikes.

(I might take this opportunity to point out that "Stupid Bitch" did not dig kids. She didn't even try and hide her dislike of children. You could frequently see her making a "I'm about to shit, puke, and bleed from my eyes." face anytime my daughter tried to engage her in any activity.)

So my husband scoops up our daughter and jokingly says "Would you like to ride with them on the motorcycle?" to which "Stupid Bitch" replies: "Yeah, shes welcome to --- if she wants to ride bitch." complete with a "whatever" facial expression and a roll of her stupid judgmental bitchy eyes. For those of you who do not know motorcycle vernacular, riding "bitch" means in the back. It also means you are not gnarly enough to be driving.

I do not exaggerate when I tell you that my husband had to make a slow motion MacGyver run to try and snip the blue wire (or is it the red wire?) on my "Mama Bear" time bomb.

My point? People who do not have children can not imagine the devotion you feel to them. So when you see someone go all "Mama Bear", do not think they are crazy. It is simply the blind maddening rage that comes with bearing a child. Perfectly nice people who normally would not resort to violence will beat the living fuck out of you when it comes to their children.
Also - it means you just shouldn't be a douche. No one likes a douche. Just ask John Mayer.


Your body is a wonderland,

Mel