Archive for July, 2008

The Hiphopopotamus…

While I was singing a tone-deaf lullaby to the kids last night, I thought of the Hiphopopotamus… 

We like to make up words to songs around here and I was singing to the tune of “Rockabye Baby” (sort of…)  I replaced the words with stuff about not being afraid of scary hippopotamus shadows (it’s either those damn coyotes or that giant stuffed hippo trying to get her…) and staying in her room all night long… While singing screeching to her about the hippo, a certain song that never fails to make me laugh, popped into my head and I thought I would share it with you guys.  

But, first a little background…

Meet Bret and Jemaine… AKA, Flight of the Concords…

These guys are HI-freaking-larious.  They are a comedy team from New Zealand and they sing.  Crazy stuff.  But, they have an HBO show called Flight of the Concords, named after their “band.” 

It’s kind of one of those shows that you have to watch for a while and figure the characters out before you really find it that funny… You either love it or you don’t.  BUT, you’re guaranteed to laugh, even if you don’t particularly care for their brand of humor.

They are just completely idiotic and their characters are these bumbling, dumbass guys with a band that move to the NYC from New Zealand to make a name for themselves.  Their band is called Flight of the Concords.  And it’s a two man band…  Their super uncool, dorky manager, also a New Zealand transplant, is even more idiotic than they are.  He is constantly getting them “awesome gigs,” that are bound to be their big break, at places like Wally’s House of Pancakes.

In this clip, they meet up with two thugs ready to beat them up and steal their wallets.  This is their attempt, in their bumbling, naive way, to let the thugs know just who they are dealing with…  Seriously funny stuff. Most of their songs aren’t an attempt at rap, though, and maybe that’s why I find this one especially funny…  Anyway, here is a snippet of their brilliantly funny show, singing their song Hiphopopotamus vs. Rhymenoceros.


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I made the Mister read my last blog entry, thinking he’d find it funny.  He sat there straight faced reading…  I don’t ask him to read that much, and I only expect minimal chuckles when he does read… But, stone-faced and unlaughing?  Ummm, no.  Unacceptable.

When I asked him what the problem was, he said, “Nothing.”  I said, “You didn’t find it funny at all?”  He said, “Yeah.  But, I know the story.”  Seriously?  I had great fun retelling it.  Whatever.  Oh well.

So, we go about our business of putting kids to bed, etc…  He comes in and sits down and says, “I found it funny, but everything read like a Dr. Suess story in my head.”  I looked at him like he was crazy…

He explained that he had just gotten through reading two entire Dr. Suess stories to Avery out of our giant book of Dr. Suess…  That’s a lot of Dr. Suess…  They aren’t short little stories… 

Anyway, he said that he was reading the entry and that he was so in Dr. Suess mode that he read the entire thing as such…  Here’s what he said:

And, I quote…

“So he layed on the table

and he spread his ass cheeks…

He moaned and he groaned

for weeks and weeks…”

OMG.  I laughed so hard.  Now THAT is funny! 

He should probably lay off the Dr. Suess for a while.

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Something about this blog and asses…

Without naming any names, a very modest, very reclusive certain someone is having ass surgery today.  Which I have had great fun with…  I mean, you have no idea how much fun I’ve had with it… 

Actually, the procedure is over and all is well…  Butt (hehe,) it was a five hour surgery which requires bedrest for a week or so…  Total bedrest.  Total bedrest that requires you to stay off of your back.  How is that even possible?  Bedpans and donuts may have to be used…  Even though he says “Hell NO they won’t!”

Anyway, it was to remove a cyst on his tailbone that he has had since childhood, that apparently is causing him much pain, to consent to major ass surgery.  He was horrified at the idea…  I mean, being so modest and reclusive, how could he be naked in a room full of folks, much less all spread eagle, ass in the air for some hacking on the ole derriere…

A couple of days ago he went to pre-op and made damn sure that the nurse knew that there were to be no students and no pictures of his ass to be taken at all for teaching purposes….  The fewer people that saw it, the better, he said.  I mean how dare they think he would consent to a room full of totally unnecessary gawkers in attendance at the great unveiling of his ass?  He said he told her that they needed to leave him a little dignity, for god’s sake!

He also said he had really been considering shaving it himself, because that was just a little too personal in his opinion…  Someone shaving his asshole was not his idea of a good time…  But, he later decided that wielding a razor around such a delicate area, by mirror no less, was probably not the brightest of ideas.  So, he decided they could at least do that part. 

I’ve been sure to call him everyday and ask him if it was all puckered up yet, or to say, in a little squeaky voice “Help me!  Help me!” like it was his asshole talking.  He said yesterday that it was so tight that you couldn’t get a broomstraw up it.  

This afternoon, I sent him an email with the infamous text message asshole picture (I thought about linking it up, but decided against it…  If you don’t know what picture I am referencing, feel free to go back to June 4…  BUT, BE WARNED, do not do this if you find scary, very graphic, butthole pictures in any way offensive…) attached, saying “See…  This could be you.  Aren’t you glad you didn’t consent to any photographs?”  I just had to…  The debil made me do it.

You know, after two pregnancies, two births and a myriad of tests, invasive procedures and fertility treatments, modesty is something I no longer have…  Not that I have ever been an extremely modest person…  I don’t know…  I guess, though, having your ass cheeks spread eagle and propped up in the air, especially for an extremely modest male, is a bit different.  That is pretty bad, actually…  Plus, it’s a bit different with the gynecologist or birth or whatever…  We have to endure a certain amount of poking and prodding…  And, we actually choose to get pregnant and give birth.  (Well, for the most part…)  We are fully aware of what we are getting ourselves into…  (Well, for the most part…) 

He probably really couldn’t have gotten a broomstraw up it.  I guess the doctor fixed that little problem this morning.  Good thing he was knocked out…

P.S.  The Gs came over last night for our Tuesday Japanese Gameshow Night and said they had a friend who had the same surgery…  That it had to be packed with fresh gauze often, by this guy’s wife, and that she had taken to calling the area his “buttgina.”  I cannot WAIT to pass on that little bit of info. to him…  Wonder if he has to have someone pack his incision site with new gauze???  Who the hell will that be?  Good thing I don’t live nearby…


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Shannon, over at More Wine Please, has given me another Blog Award!  I just don’t know what to say…  Shannon, I love you…  I’m breaking down again…  *sniff*sniff*  Hang on…  I need a tissue…  The House of Crazy is listening to me do a happy dance right now!  Thanks so much!

If you haven’t checked her out, please do so…  I try to give her linky love often because she is just freakin’ awesome.  I want her to live next door.  Or at least in the same town.  Hell, I’d settle for the same state…  She is gorgeous, funny, witty.  And, has two of the most beautiful, blog worthy little girls you’ve ever seen or heard about.  Go check her out, if you haven’t already.

So…  Once again, I get to pass on an Award…  And this time, to only three people.

The Award goes to…

Cake, my long lost buddy.  She has a cupcake in the oven, so she hasn’t been around much.  I miss you, my sweet and delicious friend!!!! 

The Wonderful World of Henry…  She’s an old friend of mine and I just love looking at her sweet Henry (and what a great name he has!)  

Donutorama and Other Tales of Round Food…  Another old friend of mine.  She’s funny, she’s smart and reading her blog makes me miss the hell out of her… 



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NOT me.

Vomit in a can…


Vomit in a jar…

It’s what’s for dinner…

(Don’t ask me why this vile crap is in my house.  It must have been one of those odd impulse buys of the Mister’s.  Whatever the reason, Avery begged and I relented.  And, they cleaned their plates.  I think I’m may be sick.)


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You’d Think…

With a week of nothing, I could spend some time blogging…  But, nooooo…  What is it about having NOTHING to do that makes you have so freaking much to do?  Avery is in “mommy””mommy”mommy,” “play with me””play with me””play with me” mode and I am actually doing some stuff around the house.  I manage to work it in on busy days.  I need to sit my ass down and work it in on my “not” busy days. 

AND if this child pulls on my leg one more time, I’m packing her up and sending her to one of you…  Any takers?


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(Yep, that’s what my calendar looks like this week…  It’s blank.  HOT DAMN!  I cannot frickin’ believe it!)


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