tonight i had a house full of boys. five of them. youngest just turned 5 and the oldest just turned 12. let me tell you: you haven’t lived.
my brother is getting married, right? right. i know! i’m surprised too. that someone would even want to share a car ride with him, much less a life is unfathomable to me, too. but there’s something for everyone, i guess. so somehow, this marriage thing translates into me babysitting. a lot. for like, a million different functions that i don’t particularly want to attend because, for some reason, the thought of contact with actual people frightens me and i’d rather demure and bow out gracefully by fidgeting like a two year old in desperate need of a pee while mumbling embarrassingly until i finally utter the phrase, “….but i’ll babysit for you if you’d like.” somewhere in the conversation. usually at a really quiet lull so that there is no mistaking what i said. add that all together and voila! you’ve got me on a saturday night babysitting five boys who —swear to god, at one point or other during the night, i searched every single one of their heads for a “666″.
all-in-all it was fairly successful in that no one lost a limb and i don’t have any court dates pending. i used my masterful grasp of creativty and the remote control to divert catastrophe. that and the good old standby, food-bribes. those boys sucked in the pizza like they had never before in all their lives been fed. which is, you know, astounding because every single parent said, “oh HE JUST ate.” when dropping off their precious angel. bullshit he did. better check that kid for tapeworm lady. he just about cleaned me out of house and home.
so also we did some crafty stuff too. because i didn’t want them to sit around and eat pizza while watching tv all night. god knows they all get enough of that watching daddy at home. hahahahahaha! oh. i kill me. i do! ahem, anyway. so shut up you about boys doing crafty things. okay? they’re like under 12. and most under 10. and also: it beats sitting on their asses watching the idiot box. and, also, probably it’s building something in their brain maybe. like maybe strenghtening problem solving skills and mathematical ability and maybe i’m building little scientists and chemists and architecs here. huh? did you ever think of that? maybe, i said!
so anyway, we made sock puppets. okay, and also? we didn’t use my old socks. god. what kind of a babysitter do you think i am? besides. my socks are too good for those brats. even the old ones.
so i bought a new bag of just plain white socks and some google eyes, felt, pompoms, buttons, yarn and small hats. we glued them all together and made puppet people. it worked really well for keeping them occupied for awhile and not fighting or breaking everything in sight. until they were finished. and then all hell broke loose because they started eating each other. they put the puppets on their arms and then chased each other around the house screaming and yelling, trying to “eat” each other’s puppet. so that was fun. can’t wait to have that brilliant idea again.
jacob made a puppet. you know jacob? my son? my own precious angel? his first was an adorable dog with brown felt ears, a red tongue that sticks out the side, two googly eyes, one with a black circle around it. he glued a brown pipe cleaner around his neck for a collar. and put a button on it. adorable. his second puppet? oh, he curled two pieces of black yarn, glued them under a black hat. made a jew. named him jewwy jewington. made a song about him.
we’re sure going to hell!
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A Woman's Manifesto
Because a woman’s work is never done.
and is underpaid, or unpaid, or boring, or repetitious,
and we’re the first to get fired,
and what we look like is more important than what we do.
And if we get raped its our fault
and if we get beaten we must have provoked it
and if we raise our voices we’re nagging bitches
and if we enjoy sex we’re nymphos
and if we don’t we’re frigid
and if we love women it’s because we can’t get a real man
and if we ask our doctor too many questions we’re neurotic or pushy
and if we expect childcare we’re selfish
and if we stand up for our rights we’re aggressive and un-feminine
and if we don’t we’re typical weak females
and if we want to get married we’re out to trap a man
and if we don’t we’re unnatural
and because we still can’t get an adequate, safe contraceptive, but men can walk on the moon
and if we can’t cope or don’t want a pregnancy we’re made to feel guilty about abortion
and for lots and lots of other reasons
we are part of the women’s liberation movement.- Joyce Stevens, International Woman’s Day, 1975.

Man Vs. Heart Attack
I am somewhat worried about the dude on Man v Food. He isn’t looking so good these days and putting that food away like that can’t be good for him.
One should always be drunk. That's all that matters; that's our one imperative need. So as not to feel Time's horrible burden; one which breaks your shoulders and bows you down, you must get drunk without cease.
But with what? With wine, poetry, or virtue as you choose. But get drunk.
And if, at some time, on steps of a palace, in the green grass of a ditch, in the bleak solitude of your room, you are waking and the drunkenness has already abated, ask the wind, the wave, the stars, the clock, all that which flees, all that which groans, all that which rolls, all that which sings, all that which speaks, ask them, what time it is; and the wind, the wave, the stars, the birds, and the clock, they will all reply:
"It is time to get drunk!
So that you may not be the martyred slaves of Time, get drunk, get drunk, and never pause for rest! With wine, poetry, or virtue, as you choose!"
Charles Baudelaire













I wish my boys were young again so I could do that ‘sigh’. We made sock puppets during English lessons one year. One horrible girl kicked up a fuss because her sock wasn’t green like the one in the book. Lucky you’ve got boys