At the tail end of all the Fay mayhem, I started finding little piles in my house.

one might try jumping to the sensible conclusion that Rocket

was responsible. And, if I said Ney it twasn’t that furry little bastard, a faithful reader might crack a dirt monster joke, which would make me snicker with glee and then run over to my window so I can peer out across the expense of my backyard and ponder the existence of said dirt monster with more then just a tad bit of apprehension.

And, if I showed you this photo of my nephew who seemed to delight in these mystery piles,

you might start to gag a bit and perhaps one or two of the more delicate and/or pregnant readers might hurl deeply from your toes, for which I sincerely apologize because really he’s not actually eating the poop. i mean, yeah it’s disgusting that he’s got that warm pile nestled in his hand and part of it precariously close to his precious tween taste buds but we all know I like to push the envelope of disgusting, particularly with my desserts. There was the infamous cat crap cake of ‘05

and now the rainy day peanut butter pile cookies

We perverted the recipe I used for my BOGO cookies. Yes, cookies taste great but it’s hard to keep a manchild enthusiastic about baking when he’s dolloping dainty drops of jam into cookies - that is sooooo no cool. Where are the ninja swords or fire? Yep, none to be found so you do the next best thing - you talk poop. What 11 yr old isn’t interested in scatology?

This was boy nephew’s favorite picture of the process

He felt that it had a rather nice emotional quality to it.

Tessa totally rocked out until she caught me recording her. I tried to act as casual as possible and even kept on singing - yes it is me singing and not some cat being tortured in my car. Speaking of ungodly noise, you may want to turn the volume down a bit.

What the heck is happening here?

Last night I found myself enjoying a salty nut snack. Cashews are among my favorite things to nibble on. I am an admitted nut muncher. My habit runs us at least $10 a week. None of that cashew pieces crap for me. I demand large fancy whole cashews and they can not be processed on shared equipment. Ann’s house of nuts once leveled me me with gluten contaminated cashews- I’ve learned my lesson.

My family has even joined me in this cashew consuming compulsion, upping the cost of my habit. I’m a stingy mom who only offers 3 or 4 nuts to the tots, hoarding the rest. If the children were given free reign over the cashew cannister, I’d have to go back to turning tricks as a gymnastics coach to afford our nut needs. Blessedly, I’m often able to slip away unnoticed and indulge in my salty snack. Sure I have to lock the bathroom door and pretend to be taking a dump but I think it’s worth it to keep my overhead cashew costs down.

Enjoying fancy cashews has a secret upside- not all the nuts look the same! Companies like Planters screen for uniformity but your more fancy nut companies let nature shine in all it’s glory. Did you know that nature has a great sense of compassion

Oh and humor, nature definitely has a sense of humor.

You will see giant boobs

You will see clowns going about their daily clown business

You will drive around confused and pissed off because both Google maps and Mapquest point you to non existent streets. You will be further miffed when you discover the free parking that lured you 2 hours from home is not free and in fact costs $7. In an attempt to maintain a good attitude you will smile like a wild cracked out monkey.

You will come home five hours after you left to a partially demolished home. Your children will be naked, crusty and hungry. The one who is too small to pry open the fridge on his own will be consuming his own body parts in a bid to survive.

Apparently self cannibalism is preferential to taking any one of the 6 different types of bottles presented as a boobless alternative for obtaining milk. This same bottle hating boy will wail the first twenty minutes you are home causing torrents of milk to flow from your overly full bosom. He will refuse to help a gal out until he has fully voiced his displeasure over this temporary abandonment. He will then spend the next eight hours clinging to your body and staunchly refuse to look at his father who so lovingly cared for him in your absence, you will be secretly pleased.

You will spend the next 7 hours staring at your phone, willing it to ring. When it doesn’t you will be vaguely disappointed. You may even be apt to cry out “Who the hell wanted to be on ABC’s National Bingo Night anyways?” You will then spend Sunday wondering if they will call, tell you that there was some sort of crazy mix up and ask you to race back to Tampa for a screen test. Because of this you will also refuse to return the second dress and pair of shoes you bought just in case and that will be enough time to decide that you must maintain ownership of this fabulous red polka dotted dress just in case they call you for some other game show.

I laughing and I wondered how they keep their house so clean, but mostly I laughed

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R0DU8CLJmOE]

Wouldn’t that make a kick butt alter ego for the Pillow Fight League? Yeah, I thoughts so. I’ve already thought of a the name (Suzy Homebreaker)and the outfit. Now they just need to pick up shop and head to Florida, cause we all know there’s an ice cube’s chance in hell of me hauling my sun native butt up to Canada for anything, not even bacon.

.

ButtShroom na na na na na na na na ButtShroom! Buttshroom! ButtShroom.

Not only is this mushroom sporting a supple tush, but it looks like it needs a good wiping. Eeeewwwww