dirnk n blog

am spending time with fh, drinking and speaking on z’s coolness. til manyana.

douchey mcjackdonkey

so today fh was in a mood all day and finally about a half hour before bathtime, he shares why.

some guys he works with (who up until a month ago or so i was under the impression of them being buds) had some inside jokes on friday, apparently. at fh’s expense. where he could hear em. that would piss me off too. but hey, let’s hear how it gets worse.

so, you know how some guys, ’specially the tradesguys can have potty mouths? know how they can totally crudely joke with each other about how bent over for who the last time and who needs to mount who’s mother? yeah, i love that, too. until this.

turns out these guys are joking around about my daughter getting fucked and giving head. seriously. about my fucking 17 month old barely not a baby.

makes sense why he’d be such an ass this afternoon and just steaming and therefore with no patience and therefore annoying to the nth degree to me. but he made a mistake. cuz he told me.

and sadly…

he went over all of these scenarios about how he wants to fight these guys and tell them off, or bring it up in a company meeting about being just a tad upset about it. i talked him down, i said you can’t be violent because you’ll lose your job and i need you to keep your job and you need your job so it’s not an option. we talked about him publicly humiliating these guys about their facebook addictions and penis envy. we talked about him going to management and saying he won’t work on the road with them anymore.

then i clued in. these guys were talking about doing my daughter, themselves, as if it was funny. i had thought it was like a futuristic, ‘one day, guys are going to be nailing this girl’ type comment, which is suspect and definitely not cool with her dad. but you know, it’s probably true.

but no. 24 year old men thought it was fucking hilarious to talk about my kid in a pornorific sense. about my 17-month old daughter taking both of them at the same time.

how hard do you think it is going to be for me to sit by and say and do nothing? if fh does not, i claim the authority.

date day

date night became date day cuz the whole fucking thing was fun. seriously. funness until bedtime, but even that, i was so high from the funnity that it was cool with me and she dropped off after about 25 minutes.

(funny story. this is night what, 5 of ferbering. so i was supposed to leave her to mew for 25 mins before going back to reassure her. which i did. when i opened the door, she gave one more anger yelp and then went, “HIIIIII!” and smiled when i picked her up. guess she doesn’t hate me for sleep training, after all.)

we started off with sleeping in. she was up a few times last night and so almost 10am rolled around before we dragged our asses out of bed. then, i discovered something amazing. if i put on a show for her to watch and give her breakfast in the high chair, she will be so entertained/eat so slowly that she won’t even notice that i’ve disappeared to do a load of dishes. (cuz i couldn’t do them last night, what with the waking up) she sat in that chair for 30 minutes with a bowl of holiday rice krispies and an orange, without a problem. woot.

then, we did some rocking out to outcast, justin timberlake and the killers*. then it was off to go shopping. the intention: running shoes for her and maybe fn and sam’s bday presents. we got mucho accomplished:

z got these shoes, but for some freak reason, the size 6 is the exact same size as her current size 4s. so they must go back. but s’ok cuz i think we’ll get these rad fuckers, instead.

she got this shirt, too. which i am in heart with. i think i even bought a 18-24 month size, which means i can put it in the too big box and forget about it and then in about five months rediscover it and fall in love all over again!

i bought jeans and a teeshirt from AE Outfitters, too. for me. that fit. mostly. i’ll grow into them. they’re a zero, so. picture hair cascading in waves, boots, a chunky fisherman’s cardi and liquid linered eyelids surrounded in a sheer halo of this. think hippy meets punk. think 1000 times more attractive than the above.

after we bought fn’s present and figured out where to go for sam’s and confered via celltocell with fh about it, we went to the paint store for advice and samples.

then we dropped off stuff and filled our shawarma-holes with shawarma goodness whilst hearing of britney spears. (sorry, even if i was still completely mental and knew it, i’d react the same way if a judge told me that my pothead ex that used and abused me (aka kfed) was to have sole custody and i wasn’t allowed to even see them anymore. i would never let them go. i’m sympathetic for the poor hoebag.)

then it was cuddles and we watched along came polly. cuz i picked, ok?

* and i had a really great example of how i am a crappy mom, what was it? oh yeah. i routinely put on the bloodhound gang’s song foxtrot uniform charlie kilo for her to dance to. cuz she will hardcore, like with TOOL and NIN and MM and who else? oh yeah OZZY! and i loves me some z dances.