20

Risque

Do you know what’s super fun? Getting denied from health insurance companies. You know, the mysterious three-week waiting period, the non-information from the sugary sweet customer service rep, the all-business letter that arrives in the mail…wait, you don’t know what I’m talking about? You all got insurance right away? With no problems? WHAT? FUCKING WHAT?

It seems that my husband and son are prime candidates for health insurance with their big healthy smiles and shit. Alas, I’m what they consider risqué…stated in a letter that read something like this:

Dear Whoorl:

We would be more than honored to underwrite your husband and son into our wonderful and happy health care family.

Unfortunately, even though you have very shiny hair and darling shoes, we have come to the decision that you are not worth the risk (like, HEY-EL NO). After careful analysis, we are pretty sure you are going to cost us a shitload this year. You are welcome to sign up for one of our guaranteed-issue plans (also known as our “dead man walking” plans) which will cost $13,265 per month.

Thank you for your (really just your husband and son’s) business. May God be with you.

Sincerely,
Mr. Positive Thinking

Oh no, THANK YOU! You’ve made my day so much brighter. No pre-existing conditions, no medications, but hell, you get something removed from your breast 2 years ago and it’s finito with the big dogs. ARF!

In other news, has anyone tried this new gum? It’s pretty damn tasty and according to my strange husband, smells like “sex candy”. Interesting. That was this first thing he uttered when he returned home from work and yes, he was serious. Um, wow. I’m not really sure where in the mental rolodex that one’s going to reside.

UPDATE: Once again, the write-something-on-your-blog-and-the-opposite-happens phenomenon has struck. I just found out I was approved by a another good company. Seriously, what is UP with this phenomenon?!

20

Burgerama

cj4.gif

D’s foray into the world of meat-eating was taken to the highest level last night. Up until this point, he had slowly climbed the mountain of non-vegetarianism- spaghetti with meat sauce (Base Camp), a little steak (Camp I), beef and chicken chili (Camp II), but last night he reached the peak.

His first hamburger in 14 years. 14 YEARS! That’s like the age of most myspacers. Over the past month, we’ve discussed at length where the inaugural burger should come from. Fast food joint? Major restaurant chain? At home? The possibilities were endless!

We decided that my cousin, CJ4, would be the expedition leader. And did he ever take the reigns. These burgers were like 3 inches thick. I think little whoorlito was jealous (or maybe I should say BIG whoorlito- 6 months old and 21 POUNDS). However, the beef itself wasn’t enough for my brave D. Apparently, he wanted to completely rip his innards to shreds so he requested BACON on the burger. That was my job for the evening – official bacon maker. As you can see, I rocked a fantastic white-trash apron (aka paper towel) while completing my task.

The burgers were good. Really good. D ate every last bite and sported a completely rock-hard stomach (not in a good way) for the rest of the evening. But guess who’s paying for it this morning?

ME.

Not cool. Not cool. Although, I must admit my consumption of 4 different kinds of beer over the course of the evening could be a contributing factor. Here’s a helpful Sunday morning tip. Do NOT mix these beers and bacon burgers:

1. Pyramid Hefeweisen
2. Shiner Bock
3. Stella Artois
4. Heineken Light

This could cause major time spent in the loo. I hope you all have a much more pleasant Sunday.

44

I’m Back.

Finally. Stinkin’ shit on a stick, people. I hope you like, unless of course, you are using Internet Explorer 6 and my sidebars are at the bottom of the page (UPDATE – fixed, YAY!). And if that’s the case, I think it’s time we had a heart-to-heart. How can I say this…deep breath… I’m SICK of seeing how IE6 treats you…he is such a jerk and look at you! You’re beautiful, smart and witty! Just give Firefox a chance. He’s charming, waaaayyyy better looking and most importantly, he will treat you the way you deserve to be treated. But if you JUST can’t live without IE6, at least get him stylin’ with a little IE7 . I only say this because I care.

So, wow. New host (three’s a charm, right?), new platform, new everything. I finally gave Boobable Hype* the boot and made the move over to WordPress. And let me just say, WordPress, I love you from the bottom of my heart. I want to french kiss you on a bicycle made for two. While wearing berets. Maybe I’ll even let you go to 2nd base, but I must warn you, the bodacious tatas have shrunk back to the original ho-hum pre-pregnancy size. But I can do the cherry-stem-knot-tongue thing! That’s right, baby.

This was quite a project for someone with limited coding skills, especially someone afflicted with PPPP (Pixel Padding Perfection Problem). I could have gone live with this thing weeks ago, but the obsession over 2 pixels here, 5 pixels there was consuming my soul. Do you people realize that your site is translated TOTALLY differently on different browsers? It can look perfect on Firefox, but then terrible on Internet Explorer? And so you fix it in IE7, only to see it look like shit in IE6?! Over and over, as you pull what’s left of your post-pregnancy hair out? Dude, I bow down to coders.

People, this is what has been keeping me awake a night. Pixels. FUCKING PIXELS AND PADDING. Not the fact that my son is 6 MONTHS OLD and is like, a burly man. Nope, pixels and padding. And this book.

But I had a revelation a couple of nights ago! You guys probably don’t give a flying turd about my pixels and padding, right? OH MY GOD, PLEASE SAY YOU DON’T. You all care about things like this!

dd1.jpg

I must say, he is quite the handsome devil (cute shirt from the lovely SAJ).

So, I’ve come to terms with the fact that I can’t make everything perfect all the time. Oh, those silly little life lessons.

So, did you miss me? Lots? Wait, did you even know I was gone?

*name changed to protect the confusing and not-so-helpful