This weekend I endured another round of Twilight mania. What the hell is wrong with people? No, really, I need to know.

First, no one in their right mind should ever, ever, EVER think a vampire is sexy when he friggin' sparkles. That's just wrong. Vampires do not SPARKLE. Not under any circumstances. (Well, maybe if you rolled one in glitter and put it under a disco ball, but I don't really see that happening.)

Point is, vampires are all scary and hidden in the shadows. They are maybe evil, but always sexy. If I saw a vampire and he was all, "We have to hide because we sparkle in the sunlight", I would totally laugh in his face and tell him what a douchebag he was. Then I would make it my life's mission to follow him around, making fun of his sparklyness at every opportunity. Sparkly vampires are just dumb.

Second, what the hell is wrong with all these 30 something women being practically orgasmic over Tayler Lautner? I agree that he is a very nice looking kid. But he is a kid!!! He lives with his parents. He isn't even old enough to drink. He's barely old enough to drive. These thoughts you are having are illegal. And also, a little bit icky. Maybe I am just a prude or whatever, but he is a teenager. Soccer moms should NOT lust after teenage boys.

Now, I admit, that there have been a few times in the past several years when I have gone to high school football games for one reason or another. And I have seen a few boys that were cute. And I have thought to myself, "Gee, he's cute". This was immediately followed by the clanging of WARNING! DANGER! bells in my head, followed by the urge to vomit as I think, "That thought could get me arrested".

What else irritates me? That damn oil spill. Here's a novel idea fellas. Why don't we stop bitching about who's fault it is, or who should have done what when, and actually get off our asses and do something about it? I know that sounds like crazy talk, but trust me - it might actually work. Beyond that, send Ty Pennington and Martha Stewart down there. They will have the mess all cleaned up, and a new oil rig built in like 3 days. And where the hell is Oprah? Couldn't she have financed the entire cleanup effort by now?

Also, is no one thinking about hurricane season? What the hell happens when a hurricane comes through the Gulf and picks up all that oil, then moves over the states dropping oily rain over everything? Isn't that like Level 3 Apocalypse or something? I mean, if everything is covered in rain laden with oil and chemicals, isn't that pretty dangerous? Food and water supplies all the way up the food chain are contaminated. Sounds pretty serious to me. Does no one feel the need to mention this scenario? Mention it to Nance Grace ... she'll rant about it for weeks.

I hope people that park in a handicapped spot without a sticker or plate go to a special area of Hell where they have to park a mile away from EVERYTHING and walk. This includes toilets.

My sweet precious angel pup is going to be 15 soon. She's starting to show her age and it scares me. She is my heart and soul and I don't know what I will do without her. I wish she was a tiny teacup size so I could carry her everywhere with me. I just can't imagine life without her, even though I know it will happen one day.

It's fitting that The Minion's first real understandable word is her name. He crouches down and wiggles his fingers and calls her. She is unimpressed and heads the opposite way. It's so cute.

The Minion is into everything. All. The. Time. He eats like a pig and is so long and skinny I call him my little stringbean. His new favorite thing is to climb up on the couch and throw himself around like he's having some sort of fit. He's actually wanting you to wrestle him. Thanks to his Daddy for teaching him that.

Speaking of POF ... he went the other day and got his hair cut. Brought the mohawk back. I have to say, he's one of the few people that can actually pull it off. He looks like a badass, and he knows it. I think it makes him look more like the wild Indian that he is. I like him today. Possibly because I haven't seen him since 8 AM. hee.

Minion's awake. Motherhood calls. It trills actually. Like a cross between a dove and Gizmo from Gremlins. Yes, my kid is "unique".

What's fun and educational, and possibly somewhat racist?

Well, it's this. The Passover Ten Plagues Finger Puppets.


I first came across these in a post last year by Steamy. I laughed so hard I cried, and decided then and there that this was quite possibly the most awesome thing ever ... and I had to have it.










So, I searched online and found a site that had them. I bought two - one for myself, and one for a friend of mine who is just as sick and twisted as I am. No one but her could really understand the truly amazingness of this item.

(They are fun AND educational - it says so
on the label)

So, I get them and I grab one randomly for my
friend's gift, and hang mine up from the mirror
on the dresser in our room. I feel the need to
look at it every time I come in or out of the room.
It's just so wrong, and funny, it never fails to make me laugh.







Now, in Steamy's original post, and in the set I gave to my friend, the Darkness plague was a little sad faced house, all black and pitiful. Cute. In fact, all of them are pretty darn cute. For signs of the apocalypse, these things are damn cheerful. Except one. And it seems a little off.

I noticed it a couple of months ago, and I've been just about giddy with it ever since. The fact that this is an actual Jewish educational toy, purchased from a Jewish educational site just makes it all the more delightful. See my Darkness isn't a house. It's ... well ... it's a little bit racist. Do you see it? Surely it's not just me.


See it here, right in the middle of the happy plague of locusts, and the death of the firstborn. Firstborn's not too happy either, but then, he's dead, so that probably explains it.
















Just to give you the total picture of awesomeness, here's some close-ups of the rest.

Note that Hail is apparently Bozo the Clown. Very, very interesting.

The Cattle Plague is looking a bit distressed, but in a comical and fun-loving sort of way.

And though Mr. Boils looks more than a little vexed at his dermatological condition, he still manages to pull of an air of whimsical charm.

I thought the Death of the Firstborn deserved an encore.

Don't Blood and Rain of Frogs look like happy little pals? And I think maybe Blood has a bit of indigestion, or possibly a case of IBS.

That lion (aka the fun-filled Rampage of the Wild and Deadly Animals) looks like he's just licking his chops in anticipation of some human snacks.

And the cheeky guy next to him ... that would be Lice. Who knew that Lice were so personable?

I've been thinking about the possibly "educational" uses for these finger puppets, and all it does is make me laugh. While I guess some high-minded religious types might be able to successfully incorporate these into a lesson that is entertaining and educational, all my scenarios land right smack in the middle of two categories: Blasphemy and Going Straight to Hell.

Well, hello there. It's been a while. Apparently I've been in sort of an anti-writing mood. Or rather an anti-computer mood. I hardly ever turn the thing on these days.

I was totally addicted to Mafia Wars and Farmville. Haven't touched either of them in over a month. Strange. POF is mad that I haven't been keeping up with his Facebook page for him. Oops. I just don't find it interesting at present.

Most people would call it a case of the blues. But blue is a happy color to me. For me, it's a case of the pinks. The Evil Pinks. It's made me blah and just not really interested in much of anything outside of The Minion.

But things have been busy here at the Haus of Evil. POF got his fancy blueprint type drawing software on the computer, so I fear I have lost him forever. It's called AutoCAD, and it is the Devil. Anything involving geometry usually is.

Also, this morning, he practically levitated off the couch when Robin Meade from HLN was reporting live from Nashville. He actually said the words "Robin's in Nashville, we need to stalk her". Cute, but a little scary. I had no idea he had such feelings for her. He will never ever live it down. heh.

The Minion fell out the back door yesterday and got his first concrete scrape on his big ole noggin. Luckily I was able to realize he was launching himself off the step in time to grab one arm and, with my cat-like reflexes and grace (snort), was able to prevent him from slamming down face first. Instead he barely even hit the concrete and just has a minor scrape on the side of his forehead. I however, have sore muscles and a knot in the middle of my back where the door handle tried to penetrate a lung. Fun times. It scared the crap out of me, and I was amazed that I managed to not fall and break something myself. Coordination is not something I have in abundance.

I have been lazy and horrible and stopped walking daily on the treadmill. Which makes me angry at myself cause I was really in a rhythm there and was noticing a difference in how my clothes fit. I lost my willpower for some reason and haven't found it again. Taking a nap when The Minion does has been much more to my liking. Or reading a book. Or watching TV. Basically, I am just lazy.

I don't even have anything funny to say. Or hateful. I am definitely not in top form. Maybe it's due to too much Yo Gabba Gabba.

We finally managed to schedule a family beach vacation for this year. We didn't get to go last year, and I could definitely use a break. Plus, seeing The Minion on the beach will be awesome. But now we have that whole oil spill / possible beginning of the apocalypse thing happening, so who knows if we'll get to go or not.

I blame the Queen Mother. She has an astounding track record at destruction. For years, she would just mention in passing an area she would like to visit, and the next thing we knew, it would be totally devastated by some sort of natural disaster. This is a record though, even for her.

Before I get even more boring, I must go and bathe. The Minion finally fell asleep, and I actually have a lunch date today. I am sure she would appreciate decent personal hygiene.

So, here we sit, at the Haus Of Eville, watching the flood waters rise around us. The wieners are not pleased. We have a no pee/poop ban until water goes away. Fun times. The Minion is oblivious.

We've had rain before, but never flooding like this. I am not into it at all. Partly because I just know our crawlspace is flooding ... and if we have a tornado, this is where we have to go.

See, POF has his Evacuation Plan for danger. And it involves crawling under the house. Cause we really don't have a safe place inside. Technically, the safe room would be the front bathroom. Except that it has a window and a giant ass mirror. Hello flying death shards. Not cool.

And my claustrophobia is not gonna be into climbing in a tiny ass closet with another adult, a small child and two weenie dogs. No thank you - I will be huddled under the flying death shards. Better yet, I will just go stand up on the hill with a big metal pole and wait for what comes.

So, the Plan. We are supposed to grab our prepacked supplies, leash the hounds (in their storm ready harnesses, of course), grab the Minion, and traipse outside, around the house, and to the door that goes under the house. Then, we are supposed to hop down into the space - which isn't really a crawl space, you can sorta stand bent over - bringing the dogs, supplies and kids with us. And it's dark down there. And dirty. With dirt. Or mud. And water. And did I mention the dark. Probably bugs. Crawly bugs. Shudder. I do not like this plan.

The Mother of Evil entered us in a local contest to win a storm shelter. Nice thought. Except that she made me watch the video about it. It goes under the floor of your garage, and it is approx. 6 feet wide and 12 feet long. It's basically a big metal coffin. It looked like crawling into the cockpit of a fighter jet. Or an Indy car. Uh, no thank you. Again, flying death shards for me, thanks.

My 80 year old grandfather, however, will not be deterred. I love him, don't get me wrong. But he thinks it's like 1950 or something. No concept of the present world dangers. He doesn't watch the news. Refuses to even discuss the fact that one block away is the crack riddled gang land of his area. Because his street is still the same. Mother of Evil and I get very frustrated.

We're in like Level 3 Apocalypse Watch here. Roads are flooded and closed. Trees and power lines down. Just craziness. The mayor of Nashvegas released a statement this morning telling everyone to stay home and not go out unless it was an emergency.

So what does my Granddaddy do ... he goes to church. Told Mother of Evil that there were "some logs in the road, so we had to go the long way around". Logs in the road. Mom sees footage of the area on TV, and the mall area is totally flooded and there are whole trees down. Whole entire trees and flooded parking lots. Scary. And my grandfather is all "La De Da, some logs in the road, La De Da".

Of course his church didn't cancel services, though most others did. But I won't get into that. He's home safe, and hopefully staying there. He's one that will go out and try to get across it, through it, etc. just to see if he can. Makes me nuts. He thinks I overreact.

I can't believe the idiots that are still out driving around, like it's no big deal. People, the interstates are FLOODED and closed in places. One local news station has 6 inches of water on their ground floor. The children's hospital has water in their lobby. This is serious. Stay the hell home. Duh.

Then again, go ahead and get out in it. Maybe your dumb ass will get swept away to a far away land. Sorta a survival of the fittest situation. And this Darwin fish is taking its little feet and running to higher ground.

Things have been busy here at the Manor of Evil. We've been doing some work out in the yard - the moat needed to be re-dug and those alligators needed a dental. Things are getting back into shape, and it's lovely to sit out back and look at the lovely view. Especially when the Venus Fly Traps are hard at work. Their little smacking sounds can be quite soothing in the twilight.

We have a bat house to put up, but I still haven't found a location that I really like for it. I do have bird houses up, and feed in the feeders. The alligators do need a snack.

I've also been doing my duty and getting on the treadmill every day. Well, almost every day. At least 5 days a week, which for an exercise hater is pretty good. We've even gone to the park a couple of days and walked there. And with some SPF 10,000, I managed not to fry to a crisp.

Thank goodness The Minion seems to have gotten his father's skin tone.

The Furry Minions have loved frolicking in the back yard since we've had such nice weather. Of course, that means we have to listen to Rhubie's incessant gnawing on her feet since she's allergic to grass. And Jerry just licks all the time anyway. It's enough to make my eye twitch sometimes. I've even threatened to put a muzzle on him. Or rip his little tongue out of his head. Which I would never ever ever do ... there's a Special Hell for people who mistreat animals. But still. Sometimes. That licking noise is just really annoying.

I'm not feeling funny today. Sorry. But the kid is still entranced by that Shake Weight commercial, so that's always good for a laugh.

The Minion is mesmerized by the Shake Weight commercial. It comes on, and he freezes, staring at the TV. Last night there was even some drool involved. I don't know what's going on with that commercial, but it's hypnotizing the toddler in this household. Which is actually quite hilarious.

Avocado Jesus


So, I must confess that I am somewhat addicted to guacamole. Not like my book addiction, but close.

See, for Christmas, The Queen Mother bought me one of those Ninja things. It's like a food processor type deal. I was sorta "meh" about it at first, but a couple of months ago, I had some smoothie stuff and decided to drag it out of the box and give it a whirl.

I made the smoothie and it was okay. But I started flipping through the little booklet and saw a recipe for guacamole. And I thought, "I could do that." So I went through my cookbooks and found a couple of other guac recipes. Then I cobbled together my own, based on the guidelines of the recipes I had found.

I threw the Minion in the car, drove to the store and bought the stuff I needed. I came home and made my first homemade guacamole. And it was so freaking good, ya'll. Like one step away from a religious experience good.

And from then on, I almost always had fresh guac in the fridge. Guacamole because my personal Saviour. I loooove it. And then I started calculating ...

I am making guac by the quart. Yes, POF does eat some. But for the most part, it's all me polishing off almost a quart of guacamole in 3-4 days. And I tabulated and figured I am eating about 3/4 cup of guac a day, on average.

And then I wondered ... how much is too much? Avocados are supposed to be really good for you. And all the produce I am using is fresh, half of it organic. Tomatoes are good for you, garlic is good for you. An entire race of people eat cilantro by the bushels, so it's got to be good for you too. I assume. They haven't died out or anything, so at the very least it isn't detrimental to your health. But is 3/4 cup of guacamole a day so much that it's bad for me?

I panicked. And I went cold turkey. For almost 3 weeks I have been guac free.

Then, today, as I pushed my cart through the produce aisle, there they were - whispering my name. So I bought the ingredients and came home to make some guacamole.

And Oh My God, How I Have Missed You, My Lovely Green Concoction.

POF was getting ready to head out the door to practice with one of his bands. And I was practically orgasmic licking the spoon. As he walked through the kitchen, I paused long enough to inform him that I was pretty sure I was emotionally cheating on him with guacamole.

His response, without missing a beat: That's okay, I've been doing the same to you with beer for years.

And that is why I love him oh so much.

Now I am counting down the minutes till dinnertime. Cause whatever I eat, it will be consumed with a side of guacamole. Oh yes it will.