My friend Patrick.
He is like Cousin Steve... a pain in my ass. Which by the way, Cousin Steve is feeling soooo much better-something about a med that finally worked for the big lump on top of his head. He is about 75% back to being his normal hilarious self-although last night when I called him and said "My smoke detector is beeping at me making the dog freak out and poop in the baby's room!" he said "Yeah, well I can't get my remote to work and now I have to have my wife change the channels on the TV-you think YOU got problems?"
For those of you who are "new" to the Six-Pack, you may not know Patrick for the simple fact that he is a lazy blogger. He never updates his blog and he seems to think there are more important things out there (like moving across the country, working, blah blah blah) than blogging.
I met Patrick when we lived in Virginia and our spouses worked together... or if you want to get technical, when his wife (Pokey) was my husband's (Ward) boss. Patrick and I met at a Christmas party where I squeezed my size 10 post baby body into a size 8 dress and he took a picture for proof and then posted it on his blog.
I know! It was horrible.
Now that I am a size 4-6 do you see any pics of me floating around his blog? Nope. Sheesh.
Patrick has the right combination of weirdo and smartassidry (to use one of our mascot FlyNavy's made up words) to be one of my friends. He cracks me up and the mere fact that he is a good Cat-lic boy makes him endearing.
It has come to my attention that he is evil and must be destroyed.
So I must destroy him.
It was good knowing you Patrick.
I hope you don't have to spend much time in Purgatory for what you did... but if I were God.... you would be there long after I have left and entered the Pearly Gates of Heaven and you and I both know that I am going to set up shop in Purgatory-we both know that I am going to be there for so long that they may even change the name to Juneatory.
So go on over and see what Stupid Fat Hobbit did on his blog.
Go see what he thought he could get away with.
Go see the way he is showing complete and utter disrespect to the Monday Swoon-the Tuesday Tease-the Wednesday Woah-the Thursday Thicket-the Friday Fancy, the Saturday Sexy and the Sunday... wait, I don't post on Sunday.
Hmm... those are all really good names aren't they? If life ever gets too busy and I can't think of words to fill this blog-I'll just use those ideas right up there. I am so brilliant.
While you are over at Hobbit's place, tell him what a cruel person he is. He loves that kind of shit.
And then spit on the sidewalk and turn around three times, flip off your bathroom scale and say it loud and proud... "Patrick! We just F^%#ed you up!"
Defend the Swoon ladies... defend the swoon.
If a picture really does speak a thousand words-this one would have hit us each on the head with a perfect personality description.
Carl Jung would have a field day with my family.
What do you suppose this picture says:
I know what it is saying to ME... what is it saying to YOU?
It got me a' thinkin'
What does one do when they are in search of themselves?
What do you do?
I could see walking across the Nation like Forest Gump did. I mean, could you imagine the alone time? The moments of reflection and inner growth?
And when we are in search for ourselves, do we ever really find what we are looking for?
If you could walk from one point to another-what would be your point A and what would be your point B?
My point A would be this house... and my point B would be Ireland.
Imagine the people I would meet along the way.
Could you as a person really do this... walk from one point to another alone-with only your thoughts to entertain you? Maybe I would take my iPod.
I enjoy being a hermit at times.
Imagine the leg muscles you would develop.
So.... where would you walk if you could? Where would you go to find yourself? What would be the song you played over and over again on your Nano?
I would play Wave on Wave by Pat Green.... just because I enjoy a good groovin'
Just because it is Monday and I love the Tudors. It may not be historically accurate... but who really gives a crap.
Just because it is Monday and my oldest received her Confirmation this weekend. Uncle Ryan was her sponsor and he has a keen ability to make little eighth grade girls giggle and little eighth grade boys squirm. Anyway... I heart Father Jon, but not in a "Thornbirds" sort of way.
Just because it is Monday and the weather was warm and the parks were packed with shirtless men playing ultimate Frisbee, sand volleyball and baseball. Who ever thought of the phrase "Shirts or Skins" was one smart woman.
Just because it is Monday and I love baseball.
Just because it is Monday and I miss football.
Just because it is Monday and we went to listen to a friend's band play on Saturday night and the lead singer looks a lot like Daughtry. Nice. Red stood me up-thanks a lot Red!
Just because it is Monday and I think Eminem's new song is just about the funniest thing out there right now. I would link to it-but I am having a hard time doing that because of Father Jon up there...
Just because it is Monday and every Six-Pack needs a mascot. Oh yeah. You all know I am an Air Force wife... but sometimes you have to give props to the boys who fly in the Navy.
Enjoy the week ladies... I feel a give away coming on for next week's Swoon. What it can be is a secret-because I haven't figured that part out yet. It is Monday after all.
Every woman needs friends, and I am not talking about the friends that you have because you have children the same age and you are thrown together in the ballet waiting room or the side of the baseball field... no, I am talking about those friends that you can call in the middle of the night and say "I think I may have just shit my pants." and they will calmly and evenly respond, "Well... do you have your good panties on and did you have corn for dinner?" and then you respond, "No-I think someone is in my backyard about to come in and kill and rape me-I just know it..." and they will say, "Are we talking Ted Bundy-good looking-killer or Charles Manson-holy hells bells ugly-killer?" and eventually you are in a discussion about Lifetime movies and whether or not you should wax or shave your unmentionables and you have forgotten about the frightening person on your back deck that does not exist.
- Round the Bend by The Great Divide (yes, it is even country-but I love it so much that I play it over and over and over again in my ears. I just don't know why.)
- When I Grow Up by the Pussycat Dolls. (how embarrassing... especially when they say that wanted boobies.)
- Let's Get it Started by the Black Eyed Peas (just try and not move when you hear this song. I dare ya.)
- Leavin' by Jesse McCartney (I like how he calls her "baby girl" although I don't know what a "lady raid?" is or what in the world "flyin' on the G5" means.)
- Beautiful by Akon (when I hear this song I pull up only one of my pant legs and giggle when he says "can I be your baby father" and whoever thought of calling a woman a "shorty" is a genius.)
- Keeps Gettin' Better by Christina Aguilera (it is my theme song... love when she says "serve it up in a shot and suck it up like a man. Damn straight.)
- Just Dance by Laddy GaGa. I know-I couldn't help myself.
I closed out the set with Seether's "Fake It" just to reassure you all that I am still a Rock star-nothing like a little headbanging to get all of that Pop funk off of me.
Even now, as I am sitting here with my iPod in my ears I have the urge to get up-move a little-escape this mood.
What do you do to escape a mood? Have any homeopathic remedies I can try? Acupuncture? Shopping? Give me your therapy for blowing the stink off of yourself... I can use all the help I can get because I am getting tired of knowing what 4:30 AM looks like.
Daughter: "Mother! I can't believe you have so many children and I am carrying one when a cute boy smiles at me!"
So to make it up to my hair-loving daughter, I am going to put youngsters with hair on the Monday Swoon.
Are you even old enough to vote son?
Mirror Mirror on the wall... scoot over so my boyfriend can see himself and borrow my hairbrush and mouse and gel and hair spray... and has anyone seen my teeth whitener?
This is the worst of all... my daughter has this joker on her bedroom wall. She is Team Jacob. I know... I am embarrassed. Look at his hair! Can you imagine what the drain in the shower looks like when he is done? Ugh-gross.
Okay... fine. Sometimes I understand hair on a man. Sometimes.
My apologies ladies... truly. I just reread this post and said WTF Jimmy! So I thought I would put some baldies on the Monday Swoon to remind us wimins that bald is beautiful-it is manly-it is easy to maintain-and it requires no extra primping in front of the mirror. Who wants a man that has to primp in the mirror? Not moi.
The Six-Pack has been schooled.
My apologies to the masses.
What happened to this week?
What happened to my life?
Just a few weeks ago I was happy in the laziness of my life that offered me time to blog amazing moments of clarity (go with me on this.... ). I was able to clean my house, organize the bills, play with the chillin's, chat on the phone with my father-my mother-my sisters-my long lost friends, I was able to cook (HAHAHAHA), get a pedicure, maybe shop for some bras, and even write one of the most amazing chapters in the history of book writing that you may never know about because now... NOW... I have no time for anything.
Hot Yoga did this to me I tell you-or maybe it was the burst of Spring that brought with it new activities and schedules.
As you know the kids are playing ball-which puts my tiny little hot yoga sitting flesh on a cold hard steel bleachers six days out of the week. That is right... you heard me, SIX DAYS! That is fine though, I don't mind. It would be easier if I knew anything about technology and I could post this blog from my cell phone and tell you about random things I see at the ball parks-which are so humorous that I would get an award or something for mentioning them... but I am too tired by the end of a long day that I forget about all of the colorful people you meet while your rear end is frozen to cold steel.
Have I mentioned hot yoga? Oh yes... I did. You see, I have become addicted-I can't help it. The only set back is that it is a 90 minute class... so that means 90 minutes away from my children to do some soul searching and inward focusing on my own life--which, HELLO!-what mother in their right mind really can do that without feeling completely guilty? Not me... I feel guilty that I am healing my body and starting to look like a FREAKIN' SUPERMODEL in the meantime (okay, there is something completely false about that last sentence... but I am not going to tell you which part-you are smart, you figure it out... meditate on it if you have to.)
I have also been in search of the perfect lawn service for our house... one that is not commercial and can speak mostly English... oh, and one that does not cost an arm and a leg. I just want a couple of people who know how to mow, fertilize, landscape, mulch, toil, weed, germinate, pollinate, edge, and do it with a smile and a "yes ma'am."
The house is also getting painted-I have changed the colors and our painters is such a nice ol' guy that he put all kinds of samples of colors on the side of the house for me to decide which I like better.
I am not good with that kind of thing.
I have to look at it in the sun, in the rain, in the early morning, in the early evening, when the sun is coming up, when the sun is going down, and when I am in a good mood, and when I am in a bad mood... so after a couple weeks of stressing over which shade of BROWN I prefer on the house-I have decided and he will start on Monday-which means I will go over on Monday afternoon and freak out because I'll think I chose the wrong color.
I am cursed.
Not to mention the kids have this whole school thing going on. Ugh-when is it over I ask you? 25 more days and life will be easier right? When they are home 24/7 looking for me to entertain them.... I can't wait! Seriously... I can't wait. Honest. Cross my heart.
Actually, I really can't wait to stop getting up at the crack of dawn and driving them to that building where they learn things and become responsible citizens.
They'll just use that knowledge against me one day-I just know it.
So, today is Friday-which means tomorrow is Saturday and then Sunday and then it is Monday again. Wow! Where did the weekend go? I can only hope that I get a few beers in me sometime between now and the Monday Swoon... or what will be the point really?
And yes, it is 4:30 in the morning on Friday and I am wide awake-hot yoga is making me think too much I think-see, there I go again. It is also making me want to go to bed at 9:30, when I usually don't crawl between the downy fresh sheets until at least 1 a.m. so now I am becoming a early riser instead of a night owl? Wait a minute... that ain't right! I need my night times... for more productive things like watching hulu.com and reading my Entertainment Weekly magazine, which has been sitting on my kitchen table all week with the boys from The Fast and Furious just staring up at me-taunting me.
Women are like apples on trees. The best ones are at the top of the tree.
Most men don’t want to reach for the good ones because they are afraid of falling and getting hurt.
Some men just don’t have the strength to climb for the good apples at the top, and others are just too lazy.
Some are so hungry for any apple that they settle for the ones that aren’t as good, but are easy to get.
The apples at top think there is something wrong with them, but in reality they are the most amazing.
They just have to wait for the right man, one who is brave enough to climb to the top of the tree.
Happy Birthday Red!
Can we all agree that the best thing about this entire picture... hell, the best thing about this entire post... this entire BLOG, is that skinned up knee?
Don't look at me like that Gerard Butler... you heard me. Yeah, I whispered that in your ear. Oh, don't act so surprised. You know you are up for the challenge.
Damn... I forgot my swimsuit. What? You don't have one on? I don't need one either? Oh Mr. Butler-you are a cheeky fellow... and I've already told you once to stop looking at me like that. I am a married woman. Yes sir. MARRIED. (thanks friend for the pics)
Okay, lets put this to a vote shall we? The young Sean Connery....
Or the older, wiser, been around the block and knows how to parallel park Sean Connery?
Dougray Scott... so swooney as a good guy, but so swelteringly swoony as a bad guy. Is "swelteringly" a word? Is "swoony" a word? Who cares...
I fell for you Ewan when you did the movie Trainspotting back in the 90's which was such a disturbingly brilliant movie that I couldn't stop watching you... and it doesn't hurt that you have some ink on the right arm of yours.
Don't you just want to take James Mcavoy home, introduce him to mom and dad and bake him a pie? I don't know what it is about him... but the urge bake for this boy is overwhelming.
AND... since this is MY blog and I am willing to always give you Six-Packers what you want, I still have the right to post something that I like...
So here is a Brit for you...
Yes, yes, yes, I know that Gerard Butler beats this vampire with those skinned knees of his up there... but Robert Pattinson is laying in water somewhere and looking at us as if he needs to bite us or he will just go crazy.
Sorry, I just couldn't help myself.
But in the meantime... I'll give you this funny little story, courtesy of my friend Lori-who always finds the funny stuff in life:
A guy goes to the supermarket and notices an attractive woman waving at him.
She says hello. He's rather taken aback because he can't place where he knows her from.
So he says, "Do you know me?"
To which she replies, "I think you're the> father of one of my kids."
Now his mind travels back to the only time he has ever been unfaithful to his wife and says, "Are you the stripper from the bachelor party that I made love to on the pool table with all my buddies watching while your partner whipped my butt with wet celery??"
She looks into his eyes and says calmly, "No, I'm your son's teacher".
Oh Mercy! Relax-just laugh at it... don't tsk and say "I can't believe June just said that!"
Eh, it is probably just that dinner of garlic bread I ate. That is the last time I eat the whole loaf-so help me Pepperidge Farms.
Here's hoping for the stomach flu-is it bad to think of weight loss when I am doubled over in pain?
Why do these 5 lbs. make me want to jump off a bridge?
Why does my hair look good on days that I have nothing to do and don't leave the house?
Why did the man in front of me at Hot Yoga yesterday think that getting a tattoo of Marilyn Monroe on his left calf was a good idea?
How does Burger King make their breakfast biscuits so good?
Why do I only want these breakfast biscuits when I am on my period?
Why does the drive-thru girl at Burger King get irritated with me when I ask for a plain biscuit every morning for a week out of every month?
How do Velcro curlers work? I mean, it amazes me that my hair actually curls using rollers with no heat in them.
Why do I think I am in a perfectly pleasant mood until someone talks to me and I bite their head off and realize that I am not in a good mood at all?
Why do babies wait until they have a clean diaper on to go poo?
Why does my baby prefer to go poo while standing in the back of my walk-in closet... right behind my bridesmaid dress from my sister's wedding?
Why is is that I can't stand the Wiggles and think they are all mentally deranged, but I have little crushes on the Imagination Movers?
Why can't I go to Vegas with my friend just because my husband is deployed? What trouble could I possibly get into in Vegas?
Why did Jennifer Aniston ever date that tool John Mayer?
Why does the nail polish on my toes last for years, but the nail polish on my fingers only lasts for half a day before it chips?
How come there are not any shows on TV like Laverne and Shirley or Happy Days anymore?
Am I the only one that misses big hair'd 80's rock bands?
Why do I feel the need to buy magazines that will give the diet secrets of the stars when I know that their secrets are really just diet pills and starvation?
Why is plastic surgery so damn expensive.
Why does my 14 year old think she deserves a social life on the weekend? pffft.
Why does a rabbit hide eggs? Rabbits don't lay eggs, they lay rabbits... Why don't we have a Easter Chicken?
Why does getting a text message excite me?
Why does it take me 30 minutes to text someone back and it only takes them half a second to respond again?
What in the world is a SMS Message?
Is Chad Kroeger married?
When I read that she wanted cowboys-I didn't hesitate and happily started scouring the Internet for photogs of celebrities in cowboy roles-because let's face it ladies-the Monday Swoons are all about the eye candy that we see at the movies. I could put my husband on the Monday Swoon every week... but eventually you all would want to hunt me down and kill me so that you could steal my meaty piece of swoon and I have to protect what is mine, and THAT is why I put celebrities on this blog. Honest. Cross my heart.
I sat and tried to think of a movie star who was a cowboy and I came up with little because if I am being honest, cowboy movies are for the mens-not the wimins... and even though we may go see a cowboy movie with our main squeeze, we really don't want to be there but are going in order to make the man that we love and adore happy... because that is what we women are all about... making our man happy. Happy and content. Happy, content and in charge. Happy, content, in charge and made to think he is Superman. Yep-Superman. I don't know how men misread our signals because I know as well as you do that we women would not complain one iota about socks on the floor or the toilet seat up if they would just put a cowboy hat on every once in a while, tip it at us when they see us and say "Howdy Ma'am" with a southern drawl that would make our knees weak. It wouldn't hurt if they had a pair of Wrangler jeans on and some cowboy boots complete with spurs and the earth's dirt from a hard day out on the ranch either.
Yes Sir... we are simple creatures aren't we ladies?
So... without further adieu, let's saddle up shall we?
Now, because of Six-Pack rules and guidelines, it states in chapter 45 page 764 line 4 subtext 7b, of the "handbook" that I must put a movie star on the Monday Swoon... so I put the only cowboy movie star that I could think of. Sam Elliot is the only one I could think of because once I remembered that he was Virgil Earp in Tombstone-I couldn't remember what day it was let alone any other actors playing cowboys. I mean, just look at him.... if he ain't a swoon-I don't know who is!
Black hat... check. Ironed shirt... check. Strong jaw... check. Tiny waist above a tiny ass... check.
8 seconds... that is all I need too.
Look at the power between his legs. Mercy.
I wonder if he likes to watch sunsets over the prairie.
I would like to kiss the person who invented chaps.
You can carry a gun on you... but you can't go into a bar with spurs on your boots. Honest-that was a rule when we lived in Prescott AZ-no spurs allowed on your boots in a bar... but you could have your gun as long as it was not concealed... so not only were there cowboys with hats and boots and wranglers-but they had holsters attached to their waists slightly slinging down with a gun sitting in it. No wonder all of those pioneer women had so many babies.
Seriously? Is it getting hot in here?
Oh Lawsy me!
Cowboy 1: "So last night I ran a bath for my wife and put bubbles in it and lit some candles."
Cowboy 2: "Nah?"
Have saddle... will ride.
Mama's don't let your babies grow up to be Cowboys... because then they would look like this and I don't know if the earth could stand to have too many men who looked like they could eat nails for breakfast. Us women would get NOTHING done!