Tina Fey Says Paris Hilton is a Piece of Shit
November 17, 2006 BlogPants
She revealed that Paris Hilton asked the writers to make a skit in which she could play Jessica Simpson “because I hate her& she’s fat. Link.
Please Turn In Your Nipples At The Ticket Counter Prior To Boarding
BlogPants
Alice Bradley has a hysterical twist on the Delta Airlines/Nursing Mother story:
I urge you to stand and fight, before a breastmilk tsunami sweeps us all away.
Link.
The Death Watch of My Mother: Part Three
Parentless
Note from Missy: This story is taking me a while to write because it is difficult to give it all of the emotional detail it deserves. No matter how old you are, losing your Mom makes you feel like an orphan. Going through the death watch of a parent is a horrible tragedy that most of us will have to endure at some time in our life. This is one of my stories. If you are just joining me today, here are Part One and Part Two.
I settled into a chair and talked to the women visiting my Mom. The atmosphere was a little surreal, with her friends coming and going all afternoon. They would walk in and say, “Hi, Sweetie, how are you?” and give my Mom a kiss on the cheek as if nothing were out of the ordinary. Then they would sit down and join the group. Someone brought a plate of cheese and crackers. Someone else brought brownies. As long as her friends were there it was an upbeat atmosphere, and that’s what was weird about it. We talked about different things; reminisced about my Mom; updated each other on our lives. All the while I kept an eye on the machine that told me her heart was still beating, and that she was still breathing. Every now and then I went up to her and told her I was there.
“Hey Mom, I’m here. Your Missy’s here with you.” Everytime I spoke with her I saw some movement, some sign that she was in there.
“Where’s Grampa? How’s he taking this?” I asked Iva.
“Oh honey, he’s sick, just sick over it,” said Iva with a worried look. “He came in this morning and when he saw her he just broke up. He couldn’t stay. He’s fighting a cold, which doesn’t help.”
The ladies kept up the cheerful banter, talking to my Mom and each other. But when my Dad arrived mid afternoon it started to thin out. They sensed he needed something more quiet, more somber. The little party was over. He sat in a corner looking tense, worried, and morose. I had never seen him like that.
Annette went up to my Mom before she left and said to her, “Try to hang in there Hon, your Bobby and Todd are on their way here.” She moaned softly in response. Finally it was just Iva, my Dad, and I.
I tried talking to my Dad, but it was hard. He was stiff and gave me short answers, as if he didn’t want to be distracted from looking at my Mom; as if he was afraid he might miss something. It was like trying to talk to someone engrossed in a book or movie. He didn’t have time for me just then.
My brother Bob and his two sons arrived around 4:00 in the afternoon. Patrick was too young to come up to the room and had to wait in the lobby, but 14 year old Bobby came into the room. As soon as he saw her his eyes started swimming.
“It’s okay, Bobby,” I said putting my arm around him, trying to be encouraging. “Go ahead. Talk to her. She can hear you.” He went up to her, put an arm across her chest and gave her an awkward hug.
“I love you, Gramma,” Bobby choked out before he began sobbing. My brother Bob took him in his arms and gave him a big bear hug as I watched the two of them hugging and crying together for a long time. My throat was closed and silent tears began streaming down my cheeks.
They only stayed about half an hour, since 9 year old Patrick was waiting for them. I asked Bob before he left to follow up on Todd for me. Find out through the Red Cross if he had permission from his commander to leave yet, what his flight arrangements were. Bob called the room about half an hour later to report that Todd had a flight from Ft. Hood to Chicago, then Chicago to the Sault. He would be arriving by 10:00 AM the next day. It was the best he could do.
Iva left at 5:00 to go make dinner for Grampa, then the two of them would be back at 7:00.
When it was just my Dad and I, he started on me.
“You should go,” he said.
“Go? What do you mean ‘go?’ Why should I go?”
“Go. Get something to eat. Have a rest. You can come back tomorrow,” said my Dad. He was trying to order me around as if I were a kid. It made me angry. But I was trying to be sensitive to him, too. He wanted to be alone with her, even though he wasn’t saying that.
“I’ll go down to the cafeteria and grab a bite to eat. I’ll be back in half an hour.” He wouldn’t look at me or respond. I gave his bald head a kiss, then went over to my Mom.
“Hey Mom, Bob and Bobby were here. Did you hear them? Bobby gave you a hug. Todd is on his way, Mom. You need to hang in there, okay? I’m just going to get something to eat. I’ll be right back. Dad’s here for you if you need him.” She gasped suddenly.
My Dad shook his head. “She can’t hear you.” He looked angry. I decided not to argue.
~ Missy
Reprinted with Permission
Eye Candy For All My Chiquitas
BlogPants
Stacy over at Jurgen Nation just posted a DELICIOUS entry. Prepare to cream your panties, ladies. And laugh. Stacy is a pretty funny chick. I love her more than a Demolition Derby, and believe me, that is saying a lot. Daren calls me his redneck wife, but I don’t care. It’s not like I go around driving with my babies in my lap and curlers in my hair. Pshaw.
EDIT: I’m over here today, hijacking Erin’s blog while she’s far far away. She flew Delta. She breastfed her daughter on Delta. Go read.
Anyway, enough about me, what do you think of me? Or not think of me?
Posted by Karen Sugarpants @ 12:41 am | 6 Comments
Sit. Lick. Spin. Sing. But Best of All?
November 16, 2006 BlogPants
Kiss.? These are a few of the commands that work here.
Video: Weird Al - Do I Creep You Out?
BlogPants
Note the jar of eyelashes.? Ugh.? And for the record, Taylor Hicks?? Yes, you creep me WAY out.? Link.
You Should Always Exercise Your Right to Vote
BlogPants
If you happen to click this link, and see that your friend Troll Baby has been nominated in 3 different categories, you may want to make your voice heard. I’m just sayin’. There are a ton of other Great Canadian Blogs though, eh? You should vote for whoever you like of course. Every day. Ahem.
Posted by Karen Sugarpants @ 11:32 am | 9 Comments
I Heart Dr. Gregory House
family
Yesterday morning in the car, I asked Daren - “Do you ever wonder if one of us gets sick with something really obscure, how much it will suck that we won’t have Dr. House to figure it out and save us in the nick of time?”
His response? “You are a fucking nutcase.”
I think I should change the category of “My Better Half” to “My Asshole Husband Thinks I’m Crazy,” or “I’m Married to a Stone.”
Plus? I ordered a shirt for myself, and he done gone and stole it. (The gray one, they are out of the pretty chocolate ones. Thanks Andrea! It arrived quickly and was snatched just as fast!)
So today, this Love Thursday goes to Dr. Gregory House because my husband is a t-shirt stealing, name-calling poo-poo head.
For more Love Thursday posts, please visit the lovely Karen at Chookooloonks.
Posted by Karen Sugarpants @ 7:43 am | 12 Comments
