Great thing about Turkey Day in the far south next to so much water is that if you are lucky enough to finish your turkey binge by mid to late afternoon, there is always time to catch a quick paddle in your personal vessel to work off the pain. So that is what I did. I stuffed my face, then I went to go work it off ... don't believe me? I have proof:
Mrs. Rockstar always uses Tuesday Treasures to catch everyone up through pictures what is going on around the Rockstar household. I decided that I would use my treasured space to share some of my favorite Turkey pics .... From Redneck Thanksgiving to Big Bird on a plate, I hope you treasure these beloved pictures I have taken the time to gather.
These are hard times. Nothing comes easy anymore. Car dealerships can not move inventory, retail stores are suffering, and even grocers are not doing well anymore. In fact grocers everywhere have had to start cutting prices just to move merchandise. Is it fair? No. But unfortunately hard choices must be made.
Thank you to the thousands of you who almost but not quite voted on my Father of the Year poll (Upper Right Bliggity Bloggity Corner). Thanks more to the other 10 of you who actually did vote. The results, frankly, are stunning. I have no idea where to begin.
In this day and age of hype and propaganda, I totally am able to extrapolate this data from the 10 responders and thousands of onlookers and apply it to the country as a whole, like the people who say eating chocolate is good for your health. Some of you (20%) might say that this is a strech, others (10%) can not believe that you yourself are completely irrelevant, but most of you (70%) are money in the bank on this one people. I am now declaring myself Father of the United States. Thank you good citizens, your vote counts!
Some would say that honor belongs to George Washington, Ben Franklin, or some other dirty wigged individual from the 1700's, but frankly (maybe even benfrankly) a new age is dawning. One where those with slight of hand and even slighter brain can ascend to the pinnacle of this great nation, grab bullwinke by the horns and say, "Yes I am great", "Yes I am fabulously good looking", and "Yes Virginia, I am a narcissist!"
With this meteoric rise of fortune comes great responsibility, and thankfully I understand that. The weight of the world is on my shoulders. I will respond with greatness.
*Margin of error is 30.98% The Rockstar is actually a moron and incapable, among other things, of leading a horse to water
I am still not over this election nonsense (at least in my opinion nonsense). I have been fascinated how many people voted for the Democratic ticket, that when asked, can not form a logical opinion based on actual issues as to why they voted that direction. In fact, I have been so confused at the lack of logical decision making (I know some of you voted that direction logically, and those who did, good for you) that I was beginning to think that the democratic process was broken ... but then I found it. I realize now why so many people I respect voted democrat. I no longer have to question why they did it as I am now quite certain that these people were voting logically. They were not just singing their heart song. They were voting life or death ... I just didn't get it until now:
File this post under big family struggles.
I have three beautiful children who play soccer like they are on a mission. Technically I have 9 beautiful children, but I am only talking about the soccer ones (just in case they are paying attention I do not want non soccer players to consider themselves unbeautiful). Anywhoo, these three amigos have practice on Monday and Wednesday and games on Saturday. I breathe soccer 42.86% of the week.
The rest of my week consists of rockin out (from 9 to 5) and being their personal shuttle service (complete with passenger van) the rest of the time. So where am I going with this post about work and my sweet innocent cherubs?
I will tell you where. Those turds have been stealing my black business socks when they can not find their soccer socks, or said soccer socks are stanky and in need of a washin'. I went looking for socks today that did not fall around my ankles (due to the stretch they have endured from shin guards) and had to settle for navy blue socks. While they do not match my black pants, they will have to do because those three knuckleheads have made it impossible for anyone other than a rhinoceros to wear my socks.
Aren't they the sweetest things?
Seriously, that is all I've got folks. Nothing. No writer's cramp, just nothing to say. Troubled times when I stop talking (or writing)
I am guessing I am not going to get much comment on this as it is hard to comment on nothing. Sometimes it is hard to comment on something, let alone nothing.
What a waste of Blogspot's\Google's storage capacity. Thankfully nothing does not come with pictures, so they will be thankful that I uploaded nothing to their server to go along with posting about nothing.
The fantastic thing about having nothing, at least in my opinion is that by having nothing, I have managed to blog about something. Not much, but something ... which is terribly disheartening to me because now my post entitled "I've got nothing" is now about something and that just doesn't make any sense at all.
So today one of my fears was realized. My third youngest groupie has been potty training as of late. We have a small downstairs half bath where we have put his dopey little toilet. The best way to describe it is as follows: It is a little plastic thing with a round bowl in the middle that you take out of the potty after business time and proceed to dump into the real porcelain king right next to it. File this info away for later in the post.
the yard to keep deer out. Did it work? I have no idea ... but what I do know is coyote urine is awfully stanky. Slip and fall into one of those socks face first and you are going to be praying to Jesus that the rapture comes now so that buring urine smell will no longer plague you. The wind blew just right, you could kill people with coyote urine. Stuff was no joke!
The actual story of me being plucked and shoved naked into this plastic bag can be found here
I encourage you to leave some love on this blog as this kind of cruelty can not be accepted.
Read more...
So the other day my eldest son called me out for basically being stupid. So I asked him a simple 9 year old question, "In the equation y=mx +b, what is the slope?" This was my childish way of retaliating.... make my son feel inferior to my massive rockstar intellect. When he gave me his blank stare I went in for the kill. "Hey #1 Son, how do we know where we are starting on the X axis?"
That is when it happened.... My son said to me "What is an a$$ kicks?" Apparently axis is a hard word to say. Like a proper father I then asked him to repeat the word ... which he did.
I then told him that an a$$ kicks is what he was about to get if he didn't stop picking on me.
Who said math is not fun? Go ahead ... I know you are thinking it .... Father of the Year
In fact, now that Michael has mentioned it, there is now a poll on the right hand side of my blog. Have at it!
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