Category Archives: Everything Extreme
The junk drawer for posts that I have no idea where to file. That place you stuff everything.
Jabba the Easter bread
Sometimes you’re minding your own domestic business making Easter breads and…
Jabba the Hut happens.
It couldn’t be helped.
The force was with me.
Measuring snow in FFF’s and UUU’s
If there were zero inches of snow yesterday and 11 inches when you woke up today, how much TOTAL snow accumulation does that make?
A. Enough to freeze the puppy’s testicles off if he still had them.
B. A frosty fuckload.
C. Enough that that cat won’t GO outside and you have to scoop the mutherfucking litter box.
D. Approximately four middle fingers if you stack them upright.
E. Snow isn’t measured in inches, it’s measured in FUCK YOU’s.
F. All and any of the above is correct. You WIN. Go directly to the equator and roll around naked.
SPAM for Dummies
I’m feeling feisty. Let’s talk about Facebook SPAM.
What’s SPAM?
In addition to the obvious, yummy processed pig in a blue can, SPAM can mess up your computer.
Bad.
If you CLICK on it.
Spammers usually use far out statements, pictures or videos to entice you to CLICK.
Do NOT CLICK.
Just pretend you’re a kid and the spammer is trying to lure you into their dirty sex-bus with a lollypop.
Just. NO.
Catchy phrases spammers have used successfully on Facebook-
“Hahaha! This girls dad caught her and she is so busted!” (Right. I’m sure he has live video coverage of her in Christian Grey’s room of pain… NOT)
“Flesh eating insect eats ladies face, so cooooool!” (Are ya kidding me??!!)
“Hahaha, Extreme Mom, someone posted this very embarrassing video about you!” (In their dreams)
“You lucky duck. You won a free iPad!” (Reject this piece of fb unfriendly junk. *see previous post*)
You get the picture.
Spammers love pictures. Usually boobs, butts or short skirts. Something you’re tempted to (unwrap) CLICK on.
They’re ruthless muthersuckers who prey on your curiosity.
Also, they can’t spell or punctuate. I’d put them at a second-ish grade level.
(I love to approximate things. Ish = approximate)
This class, SPAM for dummies is hereby concluded.
Recant – if you CLICK on it, a mean snake with a sledge hammer is gonna jump out and mess up your computer.
Don’t CLICK.
Everyfluckingthing
Addendum to “I hate it when my grocery list says… Everyfluckingthing.”
Don’t ever grocery shop after you’ve had a few drinks and your family is home starving (apparently their peanutbutter & jelly hands are broken or sprained or something like that) and you don’t have an actual list, but your brain knows damned well the list reads something like… Everyfluckingthing.
Quite frankly, the sobriety test should be changed from walking a straight line to something more challenging, like ordering lunch meat at the deli.
I bought $140 worth of whoithehellknowswhat that seemed like a good idea at the time.
At least I remembered snack food. Two bags of Halloween candy that I immediately hid in back of the toaster oven.
I’m disclosing my hiding spot because I will likely forget that I did this, but now I have *<lightbulb>* an answer key!
I’m not sure where this post is going.
Don’t drink and grocery shop.
You’re cart will end up looking like Cheech & Chong’s midnight snack and you’ll blow your big chance at snagging Mother of the Year.
Again.
*
Facebook Spies
Everyone knows someone who deliberately keeps a safe distance from Facebook, because they don’t want their family spied on.
You know, that reverse camera that transmits your every move, including random entries from your diary to Facebook TV ? That.
This is a legitimate concern, if you’re running a meth lab in your basement or secretly starring in adult films, in which case you should definitely keep a low profile.
(*as should people with custody issues and certain security clearances. No brainer*)
We’re not talking about THEM.
I’m poking a stick at those law abiding citizens with 2.5 children and a dog, who have an overinflated sense of ego and delusions that as soon as they create a Fb profile, they’re a movie star and the worlds the paparazzi.
Give me a break.
I could personally care less if my ex-boyfriends sister from 8th grade sees a picture of my cat.
It’s Facebook.
Get over thyself.
Badass Kitty
This is Badass Halloween Kitty.
He got caught in the middle of an unfortunate situation involving the puppy’s leash.
My very smart friend Kathy McCarthy Mendez suggested I use tie wraps to keep his bones (the metal frame) from falling apart.
Brilliant idea, Kathy!
And so, I did it.
I tie wrapped his head, abdomen and movable tail. *Good thing I’m an experienced Endoscopy nurse because the tail was tricky. I had to make a few incisions and get right *IN THERE.*
Also, he was missing a screw, (not unlike any other member of my family) so I improvised using Mighty Putty.
Badass Kitty is now 200% badass.
While I was piecing him back together a funny-evil plot popped into my head.
POP.
Let’s say you have a neighbor who you don’t exactly LIKE.
You could hide a SNAUSAGE or ribeye or something INSIDE their holiday decorations… and wait for them to let their dog out.
With your video recorder, of course.
Kit Kat from Heaven (or the UK)
How does that go?
Never take candy from a stranger.
Unless… It’s a complete stranger wearing a scary Halloween mask on Facebook and he asks for your home address, so he can send you a Special Edition Peanut Butter Kit Kat exclusive to the UK.
Right?
Right.
[True story]
It went something like this;
Him- If you send me your postal, I’ll send you a Special Edition Peanut Butter Kit Kat bar only available in the UK.
Me- (!!!!!)
Me- Ummm… (Thinking about it)
A week later.
Dear Complete Stranger from Other Side of the Globe,
I hope it’s not too late to take you up on your generous offer for the Special Edition Peanut Butter Kit Kat bar. I was waiting until after Halloween to see if your scary profile picture was your REAL PICTURE, in which case, I’d be slightly hesitant to send you my actual address.
PS- if it IS in fact your actual photo, just lie to me because I have a monster craving for that candy bar.
Him- Stop screaming! This is me. (Encloses adorable boy-next-door photo)
Me- Ahhhh… much better!! For the record, I never screamed. I was exercising caution. Btw- if you were like a Jason or Michael Meyers or something, I’m thinking a peanut butter KitKat would make a fabulous last meal.
Epilogue.
Received Holy Grail Hershey product and hid it in a super safe place away from curious children and dogs.
I’ve taken several photo’s of it, but can’t bring myself to defile the wrapper.
I think I’m going to make it into a shrine. I probably will.
Thank you, Paul Gunn <–(If I go MISSING) Hint. Hint.
Xoxo
Chocolate ala’ vomit
When I posted the Candy-ALL-Day food pyramid, I was NOT referring to the DOG.
Sigh…
Unfortunately, he takes after me when it comes to being a chocoholic.
Shit.
Not to mention vomit… in the flavor chocolate.
Lots of it.
Bakers chocolate (that’s the worse kind)
We don’t do anything half-assed.
He grabbed it off the kitchen table. Evidently. (as opposed to me serving it to him in a swanky crystal dish)
He has the agility of a cat and the perseverance of a gargantua with PMS.
Kinda like me, except for the agility part. (even though I totally STUCK a cartwheel the other day)
Good news- I’m no longer limping.
Now it’s the dogs turn to be Fuck-up of the Day.
And so he is…
Signs that you might have PMS
Signs that you may have PMS.
* You can toast marshmallows with your breath.
*Your default response to EVERYTHING is… fuckoff and die.
*Your secret chocolate stash looks like it was ransacked by Bigfoot except it was actually you.
*Everyone in the house are wearing crucifix’s… including the dog.
*The snowman is reduced to a puddle when you walk by.
*Your only emotion is RageSobLaugh simultaneously.
*You roll your morning Prozac in chocolate because you’re desperate.
*You consider slashing a biker dudes neck with your hang nail because he’s in your way, but you spare him when you remember there’s no chocolate in the Big House.
(To be continued… in 28ish days.)
Extreme Mom 
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