And The Award For Worst Housewife Ever Goes To...

"Listen to that little voice in your head that says,"I don't have what it takes to do this job."-Walter T. Pratt

If you haven't figured it out, the "Worst Housewife Ever" award goes to yours truly. My husband kindly bestowed it upon me at about 6:30 this morning when he was getting himself dressed for work. Why you ask? Well, it seems that though I managed to do about 3 loads of laundry the day before, I somehow forgot to throw in any of his underwear. Which then left my husband to storm through the house like a drunk gorilla and shout that I am in fact, the worst housewife ever. Normally I would argue that there is no possible way that I could be the "worst" at anything (other than spelling), but the fact that he now must go "Indian" to his weekly office meeting, proves that in fact I am. Not that my husbands lack of underoos is the only thing that qualifies me to receive this prestigious title. There are plenty of things that are neglected, overlooked and shoved into closets by me on a daily basis that have allowed me to earn it. So instead of hiding the fact that I have found yet one more job that I am unqualified for, I have decided to own it and do what comes natural to me; punish myself through the written word.

I will break down my housewife duties and give you a glimpse into how I do things. I have to warn you, it's not pretty and if I had any self respect I would keep this to myself. Lucky for you I don't. Enjoy my crazy!

* Cooking

My cooking is terrible. I think it has something to do with the fact that I only know how to make four things and the recipes for all of them came off the back of soup cans. Sure, I could probably do better if I took the time to learn how to make things that didn't have the word helper or instant in the title, but no one is starving or overweight in my house. They're just slightly nauseated and possibly at risk of coronary disease.

*Cleaning

I only clean the things that are visible. Out of sight, not my problem is my motto. I do try to clean under the sofa once a month to keep the dog hair tumble weeds from rolling out when a draft blows in from the open front door, but bedrooms and closets that contain a working door leave me with little motivation to make or keep them tidy. That's why during parties and gatherings you will never be offered the "five cent" tour of my home. If you are super nosey and decided to ask for one, expect this response. "I have four bedrooms, they are all basically the same... Messy. Tour over. Now beat it!"

*Bathrooms

Bathrooms are cleaned for company or after a stomach virus rocks a family member...Oh, and when a tiny tree starts to grow in the shower.

*Nice Things

Most of the furniture in my home is only a few years old, but between the kid and the dog using it as their own personal jungle gym and in some cases- napkin, you may find it hard to believe once you see their condition. The coffee table is chipped and dented, the sofa in the family room has Cheetos stains, the sofa in the living room smells like dog and an inch of dust and dog hair covers everything else. I try to Fabreze and vacuum rugs once a day, but I have got to be honest, by Friday I have pretty much given up. This is why until the dog is dead and the kid is in college, we cannot have "nice" things.

*Laundry
Laundry is a huge thorn in my side and one of my husbands biggest disappointments in me. I have a routine, but it sucks and I'm learning to work around that. Here's what happens: I do the wash when I get tired of tripping over it in the bathroom. Then after a load is washed and dried I remove it, fold it and throw it in a basket where it will stay until it is worn and tossed back on the bathroom floor. I hate putting clothes away and mating socks, so I don't. Socks go under the clothes to the bottom of the basket. This is where they rest until my husband starts his daily treasure hunt. At this point it is up to him to find a pair of socks that are not only the same color, but also the same style. I'm a housewife (a really crappy one, remember?) not a maid. If he wants his stuff in the closet he can walk it there himself. Until then, happy hunting.

*Bill Paying and Scheduling
Paying bills and schedualing our family time is the only thing I am good at as a housewife. I can't say this is something I was always good at because after all, my credit score is 4 ( not 400... 4), but I find that most of my other shitty housewife tendencies can be overlooked by my husband as long as I stay on top of these two small task and for now I'm doing OK.

The Mouthy Mommy is the "Worst Housewife Ever" title holder of 2010 and after reading this blog can you think of anyone who deserves it more? If you can submit who and why on the Mouthy Mavens Facebook page or here in the comment section. I'll pick a winner Friday and that person will receive a Mouthy Housewife journal to record all of their own mouthy moments.

Project Help Haiti.

"Our world is nothing but 95% poverty-stricken, bloated-stomached babies and 5% money-grubbing pricks. In your lifetime, you've only met people from the latter category." -Walter T. Pratt

Since none of you live under a rock, I am going to assume that we all know what's going down in Haiti. It's horrific at best and after watching a segment about the Haitian orphans Sunday morning, I decided that crying and text messaging $10 from my wireless phone was simply not enough. I needed to think bigger. So, as most of you know I put a donation drive together, but that was not my original plan of action. I had something much grander in mind and for the first time in my life it was only 65% selfishly motivated.

As always this is a true story. Here's how the conversation went when I brought my first idea to my husband for approval.

Me: Steve, we need to adopt a Haitian orphan!

Him: What? Are you crazy? No!

Me: Oh, come on! You want another kid, I don't want to get fat, these kids need a home. It's a win-win and I bet you can get one on sale right now.

Him: I'm not even going to begin to address how many things were wrong with that statement. I'll just put it to you this way, you're not getting an orphan, a maid or a nanny. Stop asking me for ridiculous things that cost money. The answer will always be no. However, it was nice of you to think of someone other than yourself. I'm proud of you.

Me: Fine! I'll just find some other way to help and I'm not asking for permission next time.

Him: Do what you have to do. Just make sure what ever you find doesn't involve me supporting it financially.

Once my plan to bring home a big batch of orphans was crushed, I decided to brainstorm new ways to cash in on my new found humanitarian obsession. I knew that the first thing I needed to do was find an organization that would accept things other than money because as it was earlier stated to me by my cheap and often insensitive husband, I have no funds to give (heck, I'm one lost paycheck away from needing a telethon myself). So I came up with "Project Help Haiti." It's not big or fancy, but when you're helping people who have less than nothing, you realize that small and thrown together gets the job done too. Especially when you have readers as wonderful as mine. For those of you that feel this kind of charity is futile or unnecessary, I just want you to remember that life is full of small gestures that change the world. Why wouldn't you want to be a part of that?

Please take the time to pay it forward, no donation will be turned away. Here are all the details if you would like to join me in giving.

Donation Drive To Help Haiti

A drive is being held this Saturday 1/23/10 at Cornerstone Fellowship (13969 Orange Blvd West Palm Beach, 33419) from 9am to 2pm to help the earthquake victims of Haiti. All goods will be flown directly to those in need by Missionary Flights International or delivered through other missions. The items we need most are:

Baby gear (baby food, diaper, formula, wipes…)
Hygiene products (toilet paper, tooth brushes, sanitary napkins, soap…)
Food (canned food with pop top lids, cereal bars, rice…)
Clothing, Shoes, Pots, Pans and Cutlery are also needed.

**We ask that no water be donated at this time.

If you would like to make a monetary donation to help keep the planes fueled so that they can continue to make their daily trips to Haiti you can visit http://www.misionaryflights.org/ ... Every little bit helps! We hope to see you there.

Sponsors:
The Mouthy Mavens http://www.mouthymommy.com/
Cornerstone Fellowship http://www.fitlyframed.net/
Missionary Flights international http://www.missonaryflights.org/

4 Steps To Keeping Your Dignity In The Great Beyond

"Here's what happens when you die: The blood stops flowing into your brain, and you have a few last flickering thoughts, then you stop thinking all together. The synapses in your brain stop firing, and your personality and thoughts cease to exist. Your body decays. Grubs and boll weevils burrow into your head. Worms crawl in and out of your eye sockets. Maggots feed on your brain. Oh, wait. I'm getting it all wrong. Actually you go to a country club-type place and hang out with Jesus, Mark Twain, and all your long-lost relatives. What was I thinking?" -Walter T. Pratt

Well, now that we know what happens physically when you die it's time to talk about what your no good relatives are going to be doing after they've had a moment to celebrate your passing. If you have children or are a person who prepares for the inevitable, chances are you have purchased life insurance and wrote out a will. Your beneficiary is set and you have specified who gets your "Pretty Kitty" plate collection and those baseball cards (in terrible condition) that you have been hording since you were a small child. But as for all the day to day nonsense, the furniture, clothing and whatnot's, someone or many someones will be entering your place of residence to rifle through it and you can rest assured that they will be carting away anything that isn't nailed down. I guess when you think about it in the grand scheme of things it doesn't seem like a big deal, because after all, you are dead. Right?

I get why some of you may feel that way. In fact, I at one point felt that way too. That was until I had to clean out my mother's house and ran into a few things that no child should ever have to see. It was a real eye opener and it occurred to me then that EVERYONE has stuff tucked away in closets and drawers that they are not particularly proud of. Things that even in death, are majorly embarrassing and will no doubt, tarnish their legacy. But what can you do to keep this from happening? Funny you should ask, because as always, I had a few ideas.

4 Steps To Keeping Your Dignity In The Great Beyond.

Step 1- Get yourself a bag or box of a specific color
This is as easy as it sounds. Look at the things you own that need to be chucked after your departure and buy something to keep them in. I say pick a color so that the buddy you pick in step two, can identify it easily.

NOTE: Shoe boxes tend to blend with the scenery and will need to be spruced up or decoupaged. You need it to scream "Here I am! Burn me!"


Step 2-Use the "Buddy System"
Figure out who the one person is that you trust to dispose of your smut. It can be a cousin or sibling. I personally have chosen my best friend, The Perpetual Bridesmaid. Not only is she a kook like me, but she's also very discrete. Which is exactly what you'll need for this task.

Note: Your "Buddy" should be someone off balance and trust worthy. You need this someone to retrieve the colored bag of filth from your secrete hiding place and do so without being compelled to tell anyone what's inside or meet you at the pearly gates due to shock.

Step 3-Make a game plan

Though when and how you will expire is a mystery, your buddy must always be ready. Make Sure they know the three "W's"; when to pick up the stuff, where it is, and what to say to the greedy family members who will no doubt, want a piece of what's in the bag.

Note: Keep the plan simple and straight forward. Your buddy is throwing out a bag of dildo's not accepting a case for Mission Impossible.

Step 4-Figure out what is bag/box worthy and waste no time putting them away
Anything that cannot be openly displayed on a coffee table when your mother's around belongs is this special place. This includes, but is not limited to:

~Dirty Magazines (Especially those that contain tranny midgets and farm animals)

~Sex toys (No one wants to handle your "personal massager" collection. We all know what they are really used for. It's gross...Put it in the bag!)

~Old journals ( This strictly depends on content. If you wrote a nice memoir by all means leave it accessible. However, if you are anything like the Mouthy Mommy and have chosen to write a graphic novel about your life, for reasons unbeknownst to even you, it's best that you rip out the gory stuff or scrap the entire book. Remember, even if your family thinks you're a whore, they don't need the evidence spelled out in your own handwriting.)

~Drugs or Paraphernalia(Though you started doing drugs to ease the pain your family has caused you, it's none of their business how you choose to self medicate to get through the day. Hide your stash or risk leaving a legacy that says you're a junkie. It may not be true, but those nut jobs you're related to will need something to blame for your demise and I can guarantee it won't be themselves.)

~Photos or video of you naked, in drag, or copulating ( Yikes! If you have this stuff save your buddy the trouble and burn it now. You guys are close, that's why you chose him/her, but there's a limit and pictures of you getting "it on" in drag is it...Trust me on this one.)

** All embarrassing material must go to the bag ASAP. It may be taken out, used or reviewed, but always returned promptly when finished.

Note: There may be things that are not linked to your sexual deviance that belong in this bag. Since I only own the latter, I can't think of any examples, but please feel free to leave some in the comment section if you can.


Once you have your bag in order and your "Buddy" on standby, your bucket is ready to be kicked. I can't promise that it will all work out according to plan. Who knows, maybe your buddy will die with or before you. Or worse, they could get Alzheimer's and forget where you hid your stash. I wouldn't waste time worrying about that much though. You've got bigger problems. Including how hard it's going to be for you to get into heaven. God sees all you know, even what's in the bag.

China VS America..A Worthless Toy Smack Down!

"People are probably trying to poison you"
"It's a conspiracy"-Walter T. Pratt

Last week my kid came down with a terrible head cold and I had to take him to the doctor. I hate going to the pediatricians office. One) because there's nothing worse than being quarantined in a room with sick children that have no regard for personal space and two) because there's never anything to read besides Highlights magazine and the toy recall binder. The toy recall binder is roughly the size of two encyclopedias stacked on top of one another and it is a real buzz kill. I hate finding toys on the list that I own. Not so much because they could potentially maim or kill my two year old, but because I spend a lot of money on these toys and I'm way to lazy to return them once they are recalled. Not that there is a point in returning them. I'm just going to use the money to buy another crappy toy that will eventually be recalled too. And God only knows what the company is going to do with the toy once they receive it. Probably repackage it and send it somewhere else in the world where people don't check lead content or care if their kid chokes to death. So to end the cycle and save a life, I toss the defective toys in the trash and go an my merry way.

(*** My little tree huggers out there try not to get you organic cotton panties in a bunch over this. I always wrap the hazardous toys in news paper, stuff them in a mess of plastic grocery bags and hide it under the soda cans at the bottom of the trash before I send them off to the landfill. I wouldn't want the lead paint leaking into our water supply any more than you would.)

Anyway, as I sat flipping through the book of doom, I found myself checking out where the defective junk was manufactured and yes, it was almost always made in China. Seeing "made in China" plastered on every page got me thinking about all the recent calls by American moms to ban Chinese made products from the USA. I wondered if it would really solve the problem. Would American made toys be safer? I decided to do some research to help me make a more educated decision. I hope my research will help you too.

When I got home from the doctors office I jumped on my China made P.C and did a little fact search. It turns out that though 96% of the recalled toys are made in China, only 10% of them are recalled because of lead paint. 77% of them are recalled do to design flaws. And do you know who was designing this junk...Stupid Americans. That's right, it was us. Did you really think the same people who are inventing robots and that PlayStation 3 you love so much would produce something as worthless as a Easy Bake Oven? No way. They simply follow the 77% of bad directions they are given and laugh at our ignorance while they do it. As for the lead paint issues, that is completely on the Chinese. They should have known better. However, I think it's an obvious case of "you get what you pay for". You can't pay people two cents and hour and expect them not to try and cut corners. These are the things that happen when you want something for nothing. And please try not to fool yourself into believing that American companies are more noble either.They find ways to cut back and make more money too. The only difference is we Americans have regulations. Regulations that still allow us to use lead paint, but show us how to do it with out getting caught. Regulations that allow small children to work in sweat shops in third world countries just so that you can save a buck when you buy a made in the USA product. So think about that when you decide to gather up your posse and boycott. If the products are not made in China that means the same idiots that design these death traps will be manufacturing them too. All while paying little children a dollar a day to do it. Does that revelation upset you? Well before you grab your torch and pitch fork think about this. Most labor shops are not filled with five year old children assembling Barbies and whatnot's while being whipped and starved. I have a close family member that was in charge of quality and shop control for a few of the big American factories and she gave me an interesting perspective on it all. The shops give these kids a place to go and make money for their family and it's a safer option than begging in the hot dangerous streets all day. The children are also guaranteed hot meals in the shops, which is more than I can say for them if they were at home with their poverty stricken families. I'm not trying to be funny or cruel. I realize not all of these child labor shops are good environments, but some of them are saving those poor kids from dieing of starvation. Just think about it before you hate-mail me or decide that your kid will be playing with home made garbage from now on because China and America are evil.

To all you boycotters who still feel China is out to get us, I want to commend you on trying to solve 10% of the problem by creating a new one. Just keep in mind that it will cost you double for that American made alternative and on top of raping your wallet, it will still be a worthless piece of junk that's probably made somewhere other than the USA. I hope this will help you choose your battle wisely....

**Sorry it was so heavy today. Let me make it up to you... I would like to send you off with a few worthless toys that were designed and made by Stupid Americans. Go USA!!!

Lawn Darts-

Made and designed in the U.S of A. This fun projectile reportedly cause over 6700 injuries. All the injuries occurred because Americans couldn't figure out that Lawn Darts were made to be thrown at the Lawn and not at family, friends and neighbors. In 1988 we the people of the United States could no longer be trusted with them and Lawn Darts were pulled off store shelves.



The Atomic Energy Lab-

With this toy created in 1951, you could be the first kid on your block to glow in the dark. It came complete with four samples of Uranium baring ores, a Wilson's cloud chamber and a Electroscope(to measure radioactivity). Included with the American made abomination was a government manual called "Prospecting for Uranium." The manual urged kids to go out and find radioactive material with the tools provided in the energy lab. If any was found they could receive a large monetary reward. The best part of this was that it was marketed to ten year old kids. (Were you even trusted with real scissors at the age of ten?) The Atomic Energy Lab was pulled from store shelves a year after it's release. It's sad that it took Americans a full year to realize playing with radioactive material is a bad idea...

Thanks Sis, Now I Feel Old And Worthless!

"Your family only tolerates you because you have some of the same genetic material as them. They are basically in it for themselves."-Walter T. Pratt

What were my parents thinking having all these kids! OK, there are only three of us, but would it have been so bad to stop at one? I understand that accidents happen, my son is living proof of that; I just wish there was a point where my parents said "three is a crowd" and stopped having children. I am the oldest of three girls and while I love my sisters unconditionally, that doesn't always mean I like them. My youngest sister Taylor, is 11 years younger than me and is really becoming a pain in my ass. Mainly because she's living La Vida Loca while I'm grudgingly pushing my cart of youth up and over the hill. It's so unfair!

It all started less than a year ago when my mother passed away. Being the oldest, I felt the responsibility to jump in and fill my mother's shoes. Not that my dad isn't doing a great job dealing with an adolescent girl alone, because he is. I just didn't want my teenage sister to have to grow up feeling like she was missing out on the mom experience. What do I mean by the mom experience? Well, when you are a girl you go through things that no matter how hard a dad may try, he will never understand.For example, dad doesn't see why getting your period warrants a sick day or why tampons aren't sold is cases of 1000. He would also rather not deal with grooming issues and boyfriends. So, it's in this space that I step in. I go with her to buy underwear and feminine supplies. I take her for haircuts and highlights. I've shown her how to turn one eyebrow into two and most importantly I'm teaching her the art of humiliation as only a mom can. When I pick her up from school, I make sure to blast the latest Hannah Montana hit, while I gyrate uncontrollably in my seat and scream her name from the open window. When we go to the movies and she points out a cute boy she likes, I make sure to point at him and shout loudly "Taylor, that's the boy you like? He looks gay." So when I think about it, maybe I deserve some of the crap she's been shoveling my way for the past few months.

Truthfully, the stress from all life's curve balls has begun to age me. Mentally, I've always felt about 40 years old, though physically, I thought I looked years younger than my actual age. My sister,Taylor, has decided to call bullsh%$ on this delusion and knock me down a peg. She started her reign of terror one day when we were getting ready to go out to a movie together. Tay had decided we would see the latest Tyler Perry hit and have some dinner down at City Place ( a happening West Palm Beach hot spot). It pained me to have to sit through a movie that didn't contain vampires or talking animals, but I wanted her to have a good time and decided to struggle through the movie against my better judgement. I arrived at my dad's house early, so that we could get ready together and have some surrogate mother, sister time. Looking back, I can see that this is where my ageing woes began creeping in. For our night out on the town, she dressed in a pair of skinny jeans, that looked like they had been drug behind a truck for five miles and a Batman shirt.( By Batman shirt, I mean a top that's sleeves connect to the waist line in a way that makes you look like you have bat wings.) I wore a pressed black button down shirt, bootleg jeans and heals. When we were ready to leave the house we took a minute to examine each others clothing choices. I thought she looked homeless and she thought I was lame and looked like mom. On a mission to forget her earlier statement about me looking like our mother, I fished for a compliment on our drive to dinner. I did this by congratulating her on having such a young looking older sister. I told her that she was lucky to look like me, because at the age of 26 I still looked 16. Though she agreed we looked similar, she disagreed strongly that I looked younger than 30. Her words crushed me, and I knew I had to punish her. The problem with being a surrogate mom is you have no real authority. With this in mind, I had to think of a creative way to get the message across that this kind of behavior will not be tolerated. So, I put on some old school New Kid on The Block music and rolled down the windows, allowing everyone we passed on the road to see my tired, busted dance moves. She was mortified and I was sure she would keep her thoughts on me getting old to herself from now on... I was sadly mistaken!

Taylor continues to rain on my "I look good for my age" parade whenever she has the opportunity. She points out my sagging post baby skin, my stretch marks and my ghost like complexion at least once a week. To make matter's worse, she wont allow me to participate in any of her school functions. I asked her if she would get me the paper work so that I could chaperon her school's homecoming dance and she refused. When I asked her if it was because I was so young looking that her peers might mistake me for one of them; she laughed in my face. Then she told me the real reason. Apparently those busted, tired dance moves of mine are really embarrassing and she fears that someone at the dance will realize we are related. Is that any way to treat your moster?(that's sister/mother put together. I'll have to put it on urban dictionary)

Her latest attack on my youth, can only be described as criminal and is the driving force behind this blog. This weekend my baby sister stayed at my house. We went to the mall, talked about boys and had a lovely time. That was until Sunday morning. I was sitting at the computer looking up all the latest Twilight news when I noticed her standing behind me. The fact that she was so quiet should have made me realize something was up, because she just loves to criticise me for being a 26 year-old Twilight fan. A few minutes passed and the silence was broken by her gasping loudly. "What?" I asked her. By her face I could tell something was wrong."Oh, my God Jennie. What happened to you?" Now I was getting nervous. What had happened to me? I had no clue. I was just sitting quietly at the computer minding my own business. Was I bleeding and didn't know it? "Taylor, what is it?" She paused for a second and ran her fingers through my hair. "Jennie, the top of your hair is so gray! It's crazy!" She could see I was stunned by her attention to detail and quickly came up with something to make me feel a little better. "Don't feel so bad, Jen. At least your hair's not falling out like Cassie's. Now that would suck." Cassie is my middle, prettier sister and I'm sure she would be more than unhappy that Taylor threw her under the bus so quickly to make me smile.( Though I'm sure,at one time or another, Taylor has sacrificed me to make her feel better.It's not nice, but it works for us.) While the thought of Cassie holding clumps of her silky, ash brown hair in her hands wast slightly comforting, I still found myself speechless. The reality that no matter how hard I try or what I may think, I am closer to thirty than twenty was hitting me hard. So was the unfortunate truth that from now until I die, I will only get more wrinkly, grey and busted. On the upside, I do realize something little Taylor doesn't. My looks are her future and if I look like mom so does she. After all, and she said it herself, we do look strikingly similar!



***Thanks for reading... Just wanted to let everyone know I will be on hiatus for a week or two, working on my book. Sorry! I'm a crappy multi-tasker and really need a time out from blogging to focus. Please don't forget about me when I'm gone! I will be back the first week of November. Enjoy your Halloween!

Today is Wednesday and "You Are Worthless," But Let Me Tell You Why...

Hello all! I'm so glad you chose to join me again for "You Are Worthless" Wednesday. Today's segment is dedicated to readers who are on Facebook.

I would like to start by asking; where exactly do you think these blogs come from? Do you think the blog fairy drops a new gem on my pillow twice a week? Or do you think there is a magical bunny that leaves me colorful plastic eggs with shiny new blogs inside? The answer is no, on both accounts. And if you did believe this to be true not only are you worthless, but you are bat crazy loco too (thanks for the phrase http://www.perpetualbridesmaid.com/ ). The truth is that I personally brainstorm and type these masterpieces myself, all while neglecting housework and my family. I do this all for free and never ask anything from you in return. That is until now. In the last week the Mouthy Mommy has scored herself a pimp called the Mouthy Mavens. (They are the reason my blog page got such an amazing face lift...You're welcome.) In return for the Mouthy Mommy's blogs they are asking that people become a fan of the Mouthy Mavens on Facebook. The Facebook page will allow you to access MouthyMommy.com easily and allow you to gain access to me on twitter as well. It isn't hard; all you have to do is sign into your Facebook account. Type Mouthy Mavens in the search box. Hit enter. Then click "Become a Fan" next to the Mouthy Mavens icon. Or you can click on the link that sits at the top left of The Mouthy Mommy's blog page. Sounds easy right? Then why is it that you are still not a fan? Is it because you are worthless? Or is it because you're incompetent? Either way, take a few minutes while you're stalking your exes and old high school friends on Facebook to sign up. Or shoot me an e-mail and I will send you a personalized tutorial complete with pictures, detailed directions and a sketched outline of my middle finger.

I know I cannot force you to do anything, after all I am not your mother. And I really hope you thank God for that too, because if I were your mother, you can bet there would be a few new additions to the foster care system this week.

Well, I promised myself I would keep Wednesday's short so that I could focus on other things, but of course my readers screwed that up. This is why I wish I was famous. Famous people don't have to belittle or threaten others to gain fans...I can guarantee Oprah doesn't have this problem. (*Sigh*)This just proves, yet again, that I am as worthless as you are....Here's your quotes for the day. Enjoy them and try not to be such a huge disappointment in the future.

"Your parents didn't think about what they were doing for a second. They just reproduced like dumb apes, and here you are---part of the problem."
-Dr. Walter T. Pratt

"The law of averages would suggest that at some point in your life, someone has referred to you as "that idiot."-Dr. Walter T. Pratt

***On a manic note, thank you to everyone who has already become a fan. I can't tell you how much your support is appreciated!

Introducing "You Are Worthless" Wednesday

*Disclaimer*
If you do not have a sense of humor, please do not read Wednesday blogs. They are intended as a joke and nothing more. In other words, please do not read this and then credit me in a suicide note. I have no money for your angry family members to gain in a law suit and I am positive I would never survive in a penitentiary setting. However, If you like to laugh at dark humor, read on my worthless friend!

"You Are Worthless" Wednesday is dedicated to those who each day, get one step closer to jumping off the deep end. Does it ever bother you that when you're feeling depressed and lonely, people reach out with sugar-coated nuggets of useless wisdom? Do you ever think that maybe being optimistic is for chumps? As someone who is one meltdown away from the cuckoo's nest, I'd like to take the opportunity to show you why your misery is warranted and justified.


I recently ran across a book by Dr.Oswald T. Pratt and Dr. Scott Dikkers. They have collaborated on a book series called "Just Give Up". Dr. Pratt is a former psychiatrist who has had it with his patients whining and is ready to cut the B.S. and tell them like it is. Dr. Dikkers is from "The Onion." One of the books in the series, titled "You Are Worthless," is the inspiration for my new Wednesday blog segments.

But why am I doing this? Why am I quoting someone else's work instead of coming up with my own originals? Well, there are two reasons. I'll start with the most important. I am currently working on a book, that now, because of all my blogging (whose sole purpose was and is to gain interest for the book) has gone from my baby to my neglected, red-headed stepchild. Considering that the book is my ticket out of the depths of poverty (and this blog is completely free to the public), I think it's time to give it more attention.

The second reason is that I am just as worthless as you are and I hope that realization will inspire some dialogue between us. This blog has been very one sided. Maybe you have a quote or a thought to share. Think of all the ways hearing someone else's misery helps you feel better about your own current, pathetic situations. You can share your worthlessness anonymously (by clicking on the "Click to comment" link at the bottom of this blog) and it is a good way for you to give back and help someone other than yourself for a change. People helping people...It's a win-win...

I want you to know that on occasion some of the "You Are Worthless" Wednesday quotes will be originals from the Mouthy Mommy. After all, I may have a few extra minutes to kill while I'm trying to neglect house work, bill paying, or my family.I'm not sure... But in the mean time, the quotes will come from the book, mentioned above, with limited commentary from me. Know that this is only temporary. It's just a way to devote the time needed to get my book done, without the pressure of blogging two originals a week. So, that in mind here is your first worthless quote.. Enjoy it or don't, who cares!

Today's quote is about friendship...

"Let's sit down and actually count how many genuine, true friends you have. It's not that many is it? Actually, you probably don't have a single friend. Oh, except Jesus. He's your friend. Why don't you call him and see if he wants to hang out?"

Wow, this is a good one because it's able to crush your spirit and your faith all in one shot...

***Because I tend to be very self-absorbed, I like hearing feedback; good or bad. ( but especially the positive stuff. It strokes my ego and gives me a reason to pull my sorry ass out of bed every day!) So feel free to let me know if you like this or if I need to go in a new direction.

Hope you come back next week... Though, if you don't, I completely understand.