My blogs are boring

It's true.  Nothing exciting has been happening to me.  I'm just living a happy, drama-free life.  I apologize if that makes for a pitiful blog.  Also, my blog had somehow become mandatory reading material at work and while part of me doesn't care, part of me doesn't want to share more of myself with those people.  My page is no longer public...just one more way to have less drama.    I was telling my husband about my boring blog and he said that I've become a soccer mom.  Say what?!?  I'm no fucking soccer mom.  I'm  a FOOTBALL mom!  BTW, my baby's team won the last game 42 - 0 (and still got yelled at for being lazy).  There was a crazy lady on the other side of the field screaming at our team not to hit the boys on the other team.  What the hell was she smoking?  How do you not tackle in football?  She screamed at our coaches that they only cared about winning the game.    What did she expect?  She must be one of those soccer moms.  Ick. 

I'm not remotely athletic or particularly competitive, but I believe in keeping score.  If you want your child to play a game where no one wins and no one loses and ability doesn't matter then your kid better have down syndrome.  But if he does, don't let him play football.  All that helmet switching will only confuse him.  And for the record, the Special Olympics have winners and losers.  Retarded kids accept that some people are better are certain things.  Why grown women of normal i.q. don't understand that just escapes me.  They need to stop taking their child's Ritalin and accept reality.  Your kid's not perfect?  Mine either.  Life's like that. 

I'm turning into my mother.  I went to the bathroom the other day at work.  I was in the stall and let out a big ""aaaaaaahhhhhhhh"" of relief.  right. out. loud.  Then I started laughing uncontrollably. right. out. loud.  I'm hovering there, hand on the wall, tissue in hand wondering if I'll topple over if I try to wipe and unable to control my laughter.  I can only wonder what people were thinking.  No one said anything as they flushed or washed their hands.  For some reason it brought to my mind that scene from Carrie in the girls locker room when they started throwing maxi pads at her and that killed the laughter.  You know, those were some fat pads.  Did you know they still make pads that thick?  What's that about?  I don't know about you, but I don't have an extra two inches of space between my body and my underwear.  I don't want to walk around feeling like I've got a couch cushion between my thighs.  Sometimes when I'm in the feminine hygiene aisle, I wonder what kind of self-abusive person buys those.  I wonder that her life is like.  I wonder what other weird things she does to punish herself and make life less pleasant.  One day I may write a story about her.  I think I'll name her Norma.

We went and saw Igor.  Don't waste your money.

I've been noticing more and more women with tattoos on their necks and behind their ears.  I can't believe they don't know how trashy they look.  And don't get me wrong, I love tattoos.  When I retire, I plan on sleeving my arm and getting a Harley.  It will be so sweet.  But I hate homemade looking tattoos with unfortunate placement.  I'm a big believer that nothing should go below the wrist, below the ankle or above the collarbone.  Everything else is fair territory.  Please remember people: Good tattoos are not cheap and cheap tattoos (make you look like an escaped convict) are not good.  Spend the money- it's cheaper than laser removal.

Ok, I think I'm done for now.  Back to my boring life.  I'm gonna go grab my husband so I can have my way with him.