I Dig Them Up

It's up to you to decide whether or not to watch them. Here are some ca-RAAA-zy videos. Warning: you will never get the time back that you spent watching them. Plus, you may never get over it. Tongue In Cheek and its affiliates are not responsible for loss of time or brain cells in the watching of these videos. Watch at your own risk.

First--Charo


Next--Hasselhoff


I share with love. Truly. You needed to know these things existed. You're now a better person.

You're welcome.

Send The Mojo

So things have been rough around Chez Quinn recently. The Man spent seven hours in the E.R. yesterday, but we confirmed that the pain in his left arm is not heart related. It's muscle related. Which is a big relief. But I really could use some better Juju around this place. I'm feeling a little like this Muddy Waters song.



Until next time, Citizens. Gotta say though, that my super villainy plans are sounding more and more reasonable.

Surviving The Strain On The Crazy Train

So, I'm drowning in my annual kid science days. I only got eight parent volunteers this year as opposed to 21 and 25 the two previous years. I have a new principal who doesn't know what he's doing and apparently lacks the ability to answer emails.

The first of the two days is this Friday, and I've done virtually everything myself. It's been a nightmare of epic proportions. So directly after I take 140 first and second graders tromping through the woods from science station to science station with seven teachers and eight parent volunteers, I'll be retreating to the hermetically sealed environs of My Happy Place.

Until it's time to do it again with 200 third, fourth and fifth graders next month.

Speaking of elementary schoolers. Why in the world didn't they offer a program like this when I was a kid? This ROCKS!!



They also perform Led Zepplin, Jimi Hendrix and James Brown. Among others.

If I survive, I will see you all next time, Citizens. Though I may be forced back into super villainy. Only time will tell.

A Trek To The Unholy Land Of Hideous Muumuus

I had a crazy camping meltdown back in July. Shocking, but true. Two weeks in a pop up camper without tv or internet will do that to a girl.

We were in Maine, having a grand old time. Only problem? The bathhouse was waaaaay far away from the camper. And I was getting weirded out walking there in my pjs due to some of the cro magnon tent campers who opened their beer bottles and cans of corned beef hash with their teeth as they eyed us wimmin folk (me and my two young daughters) on our way to the bathhouse.
 
So my fevered camping brain decided my best defense was a truly hideous muumuu. Because, really, what other defense is there? Nothing trumps hideous muumuu.

The man, reading the crazy in my eye, correctly chose to take me looking for one. Five stores and three hours later, the family tromped into Walmart. Now, I'm desperate beyond all comprehension if I'm willing to walk into a Walmart in the first place. On principle I refuse to shop there and contribute to the decline of Western civilization.

The Urchins are about to become unglued, The Man has that determined manly "I-will-fix-this-if-it-kills-me" crazed glint in his eyes, and I, who despises shopping, am ready for the loony bin.

Then, I see them. And, they're indescribably hideous.

The horror!!

Look at the varied selection behind these two winners.

This one has a zipper opening for easy on and off. Umm, off, please.

I mean, Mrs. Roper's muumuus had nothing on these. Faced with their hideousness, I just...couldn't pull the trigger. I couldn't buy, let alone wear, any of them. So, disgruntled and defeated, we trudged out of the evil store, into the dark night and back to the campground.

Where--we found that the insane, monkey-toed, inbred, knuckle-dragging, banjo-dueling, tent campers had vacated the premises. Leaving behind scary remnants of their encampment for future archaeologists to puzzle over.

So we were all winners in the end. The Man earned good-husband points for attempting to fix my crazy. The Urchins learned that power-shopping doesn't pay, and I could walk un-ogled to the bathhouse.

Moral of the story? Muumuus trump inbred evilness by proximity alone.

Until next time, Citizens!

Welcome To Club Earth

So The Man, the Urchins and I visited some beautiful local caverns recently. We, of course, hit the gift shop-- where we saw this display.

Didn't know there was a membership, though I should have suspected since I've been paying dues.

Apparently this club has an agenda.

And probably a manifesto. A long one.

So the Urchins and The Man are all home for the summer and there are many distractions.

I'm getting scary-obsessive with finishing my edits, and I'm finding things out about myself as I do. Not much of it good. (I never knew I was prone to wild mood swings and such violent thoughts.) Considering I'm all paid up with my Club Earth dues, here's hoping everyone survives.

So what are you doing this summer? Any crazy editing induced violence/craziness you'd like to share? I'm all ears. (said like Dolf in that Van Damme movie.)

My Weekend-The Writer's POV

***Friday of Memorial Day Weekend Driving to NYC to have HUGE weekend excursion with the Urchins' Girl Scout Troop***

Me-  silent for first ten minutes of four hour long trip in mini van with said Urchins and The Man.

Me (again)- **sigh**   I have a motivation problem with my new heroine.

The Man-  Bushy-eyed glance my way, then back to the road.

Me- after three minute silence-   You know, I think I have a problem with my new heroine's motivation.

The Man-  Oh.

Me- two minute silence, then-   I'm thinking I might have a problem with my new heroine's motivation.

The Man- **most likely contemplating the ramifications of being an unwilling captive audience**   Is that so.

Me- repeating statement in other ways for the next hour. (I am a writer after all, and can diversify my sentence structure.)

The Man- through gritted teeth-   Would you like to talk about it?

Me-   Sure!

***Two hours later after on and off brain storming, I'm not completely satisfied with my outcomes***

The Man-  Can we talk about this later instead of in a torrential downpour on the NJ expressway?

Me-  Oh. Sure!

***Two days of jam packed NYC activities with lots of little girls***

***Four Hour Drive Home***

Me- six minutes into drive home-   I don't know if you've heard, but I'm having some motivation  issues with the heroine of my new story.

The Man- White knuckling the steering wheel.

*******

***Memorial Day- 8 minutes into our one and a half hour drive to Philadelphia for a family picnic***

Me- contemplative silence as I think about heroine.

The Man-  Rumor has it that you're having motivational difficulties with your new heroine.

And that's one of the many reasons why I love that man o' mine!

I did partially work out some of the motivational issues for my new heroine, but need to research a bit to make sure they're plausible. I know you were dying to know. Which is why I love all of you!

Coming soon, my answers to the Leibster Award I was gifted by that cool cat Marci Koski of Fuzzy Undertones.

Until then, citizens!

I Haven't Fallen Off The Face of the Earth or The AtoZ Wrap Up

Hi everybody! Yes, it's been five days, which in internet time you must take your total number of days missing and multiply by 48. Then convert your answer to months. Be sure to show your work.

Yes, last Friday I survived the second Environmental Field Day of 140 first and second graders. You know. The one that the principal decided ON TUESDAY to make indoors at the school. So almost all my months of planning had to be rewritten in two and a half days. Plus all the volunteers had to be notified and their new assignments given out. I was really popular, let me tell you. Not cool, since I'm just a volunteer myself.

Needless to say, even this look is not strong enough to convey the animosity I had in my heart for the principal last week.



But I'm totally over it now.  

Mostly.

Anywho, I'm still trying to catch up on all the atoz posts that I missed during my (conniption inducing) days volunteering at my daughter's school. (To be honest, I came home Friday evening, went to put the Urchins to bed at 8, and fell asleep before I could. I didn't wake up until 8 the next morning. Completely unheard of. I was past exhausted.)

As for the AtoZ, I have to say that even though I didn't have the time available that I would have liked to go and visit all the other participants, I still had a great time. I'm not sure if I'll do it again next year, but I'd definitely go say hi to the ones who do (just as I've done in years past.) I've met some fantastic people and have broadened my "must read blogs" list considerably!

So how did you all enjoy yourselves? Do you now have any favorite reruns from Tongue In Cheek? What was your favorite part about the hop? Can't wait to hear!

Until next time, citizens!

AtoZ Witnesses of the Jehovah Kind

Hi again all my new AtoZ friends! I'm Ava and I'm bringing you up to speed with some of my menagerie of mayhem around here at Tongue In Cheek by giving you a bunch of crazy reruns.  Back in 2009 I acquired a zealot who made house calls and who wouldn't take no for an answer. She persisted to try and save me three times. Below you will find the transcripts of each altercation. Enjoy!

Unbelievable

So I'm at home on this rainy Tuesday, feeling sick. (Big frickin' surprise, I've been sick since the beginning of March.) And there's a tentative knock on my only-used-by-strangers front door that is semi blocked by crap and only opens half-way. The dogs go ballistic, and I get ready for the inevitable.

Yes. It's the Jehovah's Witnesses.

Now, I'm usually a polite person. They're following their doctrine, and I can respect that. But when the person you're trying to convert is hacking all over you and not inviting you in and trying politely to let you know that they're not interested and holding back the hounds of hell so they don't tear your throat out and is not feeling well, STFU and leave them be!

Now, not only do they not shut up, and I can't shut the door because then one of my dogs would get cut in half, but they wrap up their spiel trying to elicit a promise from me that I'll read over their pamphlet and talk to them about it when I'm done.

What?

Don't come to my house and assign me frickin' homework! WTH?! Do you think you're going to administer a pop quiz when you get back? The woman actually said, "I want you to promise me that you'll read over this literature so when we come back we can discuss it."

Lady, are you fucking nuts? If you do come back, I don't care about the busy road in front of my house, I'm releasing the hounds. Do you really think I want to discuss anything with a person so driven by doctrine that you have no common sense or courtesy for the sick? Do you really think I want to choose my faith from a door to door salesman? Do you really believe that because I'm a polite person and didn't back you off my property with a gun in your face that I'm going to invite you in for a coffee clatch about your propoganda rag?

Suffice it to say, nice ended and snarky stepped up. I replied, "If you do come back, you'd better bring some different wares to sell because I ain't buying what you're shilling now." And shut the door.

Yeah, I'm going to Hell, but I knew that way before they hit my front porch.

Hello, Satan

"Hello, Satan? Yes, I'd like to book a table."

"At the moment, for one, but you may want to keep a few chairs handy, I think I might be joined by some friends."

"Yeah. Ok. I'd like it to be in the non-smoking section, please."

"Oh. There isn't a non-smoking section. All right. Hmmm. Could it be in a quiet, corner? Maybe something a little intimate and cozy?"

"Yes, as far away from the screaming and fiery pits as possible would be nice. Thanks."

"Okay. See you then!"

Yes the Jehovah's Witnesses were back. Don't worry. I dispatched them quickly. No, not under the loose boards of my porch.

The sad thing is, I don't think I've seen the last of her. I'm getting the feeling she's attached herself like a pit bull to my ass. Like I'm some pet project. I'll fix her. Even if I have to turn the hose on her.

Damn, I wish I had those flying monkeys.

Can You Believe It?!?

The Jehovah's Witnesses came back! AGAIN! They were just here. I, in polite but no uncertain terms, told them not to darken my door ever again.

The woman had the audacity to tell me that I asked her to come back! Now, what person in their right mind would ask the JW's to come back? Seriously? Who? Especially at nine o'clock in the morning! If you've been following the saga,(here and here) you know I definitely did not.

So now some delusional zealot is out there unleashed on the unsuspecting populace, knocking on doors in her sensible shoes, and pestering others.

Hmmm. I'm okay with that, I've taken my share of abuse. It's time to spread it around a little. In fact, I gave her Vicki and Natalie's addresses, and told her they would love to sit and chat with her.

Well, gotta go. I'm too busy laughing evilly and rubbing my hands together to type any more. Have a good weekend!

AtoZ Villanous Minions Needed

 Hey there all you AtoZ participants! Thanks for stopping in. As you read, I'm most likely in the woods with 180 kids, making sure they get a huge dose of outdoor environmental science. And also probably a little insane. Here's hoping I bounce back!

Anywho! My theme this year is a sampling of the zaniness that has gone on around here in the years Tongue In Cheek has evolved. My only regret is that there are only 26 days in which to post six years of crazy nonsense that has occurred. Definitely not enough time to expose you to the true level of my insanity. Which is actually probably a good thing. So, on with the freakshow! Here's a glimpse of my sanity levels from 2010. Enjoy this...

Thursday Ridiculousness

Super Villain Update - Well, I'm scouting some new minion talent since negotiations with the sea monkeys are stalled. Right now I'm courting bandito lobsters, which as you know are the badasses of the crustacean world. I'm sure you've seen their work. But just in case you haven't, here's a little sample.



They really reek of harbingers of doom, huh? Huh? Definitely capable of delivering my wrath. So I'm considering them. If I contact them, I'll do some trial runs, see how we work together. You know, run of the mill stuff.

I'm also thinking about hiring this group to write my theme song once I decide on who will become the deliverers of my wrath. What do you think?

AtoZ Never (U)nderestimate the Power of "The Man"

***E.T.A. The first environmental field day is tomorrow. 180 kids 25 parent volunteers, all outdoor and thunder storms in the forecast. I'm scrambling to come up with a possible alternate venue and how to reach volunteers at the last minute if necessary. I'll be checking in on all you awesome people in two days and will be catching up on your awesome posts. Wish me luck!****

Hi again all you hep cats participating in the AtoZ Challenge! I've been doing my level best to get around to as many blogs in the challenge as possible. There are so many awesome bloggers in this hop! I've been enjoying myself immensely! Which is something I try to do on a regular basis. Even if I must make up new ways in which to do it. And drag "The Man" -aka my husband- into my little neurotic playdates with me. Things are more fun when they're shared, amiright? Including such crazy made up games as...

Stinkbug Chicken (from 2011)


A few days ago, a stinkbug made an appearance in my bedroom, crawled to a high spot out of my immediate reach, and has apparently decided it's now residing there for the winter.

I've been keeping my eye on it, and can satisfactorily report it hasn't moved for days. So I've left it alone because there have been too many other things on fire around here to deal with. Things more important than a stinkbug setting up house on my bedroom wall. Yeah, we've had some major shit.

Anyway, I happened to mention the stinkbug to The Man.

me: "Have you noticed the stinkbug in our room?"

The Man: "Yeah."

me: "Are you going to kill it?"

The Man: "Are you?"

me: hmmmm

And that's when the game of Stinkbug Chicken (c) began. Though I'm not sure that The Man actually knows he's a participant in my new form of entertainment. But I believe he is beginning to suspect.

So here's how I'm playing. I make a comment about the bug to see if The Man will be the one to break down and dispose of it first. Only, I can't actually ask him to do it. I can only bring his attention to the bug in new and  interesting ways. For example.

me: "You know, I think I'll name the stinkbug in our room, Ralph."

The Man: bushy glance from the corner of his eye: "Is that so."

me: "Yeah. It seems he'll be staying awhile and if he's going to see me changing my clothes, I figured he should have a name."

The Man: "How do you know it's a he?"

me: "Because it stares at me so intently when I get naked."

The Man: "That seems logical."

Oh, he's good.

So it's a stalemate right now, but I haven't cracked yet. As long as Ralph stays put, that is. He's perched on my side of the room, so if he goes mobile, I'll be the first to be infiltrated.

Though, truthfully, if that thing starts flying?

Game over.

AtoZ Super Villain Plans

Hi there, AtoZ Challengers and any other happy campers who've happened upon Tongue In Cheek. Today we take a stroll down TiC memory lane with two posts written in 2010 when I decided to broaden my horizons and wrath delivery options by becoming a super villain.

My Evil Plans Are Coming Together

So I haven't been around in the internets for a while. I've been up to no good, of course. Most recently I've been studying up over at ISS (International Society of Supervillains). I've been busy taking the evil ranking quiz, checking out the faq, designing and discarding different costuming ideas. You know, the usual.

You may ask what brought on such drastic and evil preparations, but there's no one concrete event. I'm just getting ready for the distribution of my wrath when I reach the very edge and am thrust over into the boiling chasm of evil. It's always good policy to be prepared.

I'm attempting to convert the sea monkeys to my will. Many, I know, would mock the seemingly wuss-like reputation of the sea monkeys. Only I understand the full range of their power. Only I understand their determination. Only I understand their need to spread their slimy society like a virus until it covers the Earth! Soon I will be their mistress, and they will deliver my wrath! Bwa haa haa haaaaacoughcoughcough!

Uh. whoops. Heh, heh. Did I blog that out loud? Never mind. Condition normal. All is well. Back to the grind!

Super Villain Update

 So the Super Villain plans are on the back burner right now. My negotiations with the sea monkeys are bogged down in lawyer speak. The sea monkeys, which hitherto will be referred to as the first party, have resisted my attempts at a hostile take over and flat out refuse to become my minions. Sigh. I was so sure I could bend them to my will.

Also, the costuming is becoming a problem as I field test. Each material has its own unique set of advantages and disadvantages. Leather, which had been my first pick, really doesn't breathe well. And it constricts movement. So my kung-fu actions would be hindered. Though it does afford a certain amount of protection, especially if I decide that a motorcycle will be my main form of transportation. Spandex, on the other hand, allows for free range of motion, yet no protection whatsoever. Plus, I just don't have the body for it any more. I mean, I want to be taken seriously as a major player in the realm of Super Villains, right?

Also, in my sea monkey negotiations, they want a nod. One of their demands is that I must wear a sea monkey crest or logo of some sort. And while I have a long history of battling sea monkeys and am aware of their wily and nefarious nature, their PR people are just too darn good. For years they've been cleaning up their image. I mean, you tell me, how is this supposed to strike fear into the hearts of an unsuspecting populace?



So I'm stalled. I'm sure everything will turn out all right in the end and my minions will come online. And the costuming issues will fall into place. Until then, I guess I'll just have to be patient.

But, faithful legions, I would appreciate your input on an impromptu poll regarding my costuming and transportation issues. Please select your favorite from each category. Post your selections to the comments. All opinions welcome. Thanks, and have a slimy sea monkey day!

Transportation
motorcycle
amphibious landing craft
armored personnel carrier
Vespa and water wings

Costume material
leather
Spandex
sea weed
breathable 100% cotton

Sea monkey logo
just the head with crown
crossed tridents with sea monkey hand, head, pet sea horse and castle in the four spaces to form a shield crest
Stylized SMW which stands for Sea Monkey Woman

AtoZ The 3 R's Writing, Rummaging and Ridiculousness

Helooooooo Atozers! So glad you've stopped by! I'm trying to keep up with answering comments and visiting anyone who stops in (as well as venturing out to others), but please know that this is an extremely hectic time of year for me, which is why I decided to participate for the first time by utilizing reruns. So If I don't get to you now, be assured I will get to you later to share the love and the good karma!

Today we have the three R's of Tongue In Cheek...

Writing Rummaging and Ridiculousness

So, okay, those are the 3 Rs here at Tongue In Cheek. They may not necessarily be your three.

Anywho, here we go.

Writing
Yeah, pretty much nonexistent right now. The oldest Urchin has started up again with what brought her down last fall. And of course, every crazy test the doctors could think of was done to her. So they're at a loss as to what else to try. They just say inane things like, "Stay the course" and "A thousand points of light" and get me so irritated that I switch around everything in their exam room while we're left alone waiting. Yeah, that's right, search for those tongue depressors. Search for them!

Ahem. Sorry.

I've also been sick for the past week, so my drive is not what it should be. Getting out of bed takes so much effort that opening and editing a wip is more than I can stand right now.

But, I'm leaving on Friday morning for the New Jersey Romance Writer's conference. If I ever look up the directions on how to get there, that is. I attended two years ago, and found it worthwhile. Even though the fire alarm went off in the middle of the night at the hotel. So hopefully going to the conference will get some of my writing mojo to return.

Rummaging
I am a rummage sale junkie. I love a good rummage sale like stink bugs love my underwear drawer.

Whilst arriving early to a particularly good one late in the summer, I eyed the crowd. They were a feisty looking bunch. Frazzled moms with fidgety children, little blue-haired old ladies with huge shopping bags made of recycled plastic (you know, the ones with the sharp, pointy corners), unkempt, overweight, sweat pant wearing men with stringy comb overs.

Yes they were a well seasoned, yet motley crew of hard core rummage maniacs. This is the kind of crowd where the little old ladies will run you over with their wire baskets-on-wheels as soon as look at you. The unkempt men will use every available body odor in their human stink arsenal to clear a section they want. And the mommies will sic their little mucus encrusted darlings on your ass before you can say viscous liquids.

Hard. Core.

All they needed were some eye patches, peg legs and a touch of scurvy, and they'd be the masters of the Seven Seas.

So as I walked down the sidewalk, eyeing the line of competition, and receiving the hairy eyeball in return, I busted out my best professional wrestling announcer voice and yelled, "Let's get ready to RUUUUUMMMAAAAAAAGGE!!!!"

Everyone gave me a lot of room after that, leaving me to browse sections at my leisure. (I owe all my psychological warfare tactics to the sea monkeys.)

Ridiculousness
No, that last section wasn't the ridiculousness. Sheesh. This will be some random ridiculousness.

I found a dead, dried out, cracking apart stink bug.
In my underwear drawer. EEEEEEEEWWWWW! All right, that was more like the "What's Grosser Than Gross" jokes that permeated the early eighties. (You all remember those, right? What's grosser than gross? Finding out your brother's scab collection is missing after eating a bowl of Cornflakes.)

My Reign as the county 'Possum Queen is soon coming to an end, and I'll need to attend the Moonshine and Fried Possum Carnival in the first weekend of November to hand over my crown of taxidermied 'possums with rhinestone accents to the next queen. Ahh, the memories I'll be taking with me after this year of excitement. If you haven't accompanied me on the journey and missed it, check out the 'Possum Queen category to the right and catch up on all the 'possumy goodness this year has wrought.

So I'm off to get my annual haircut today for the writer's conference. My hair is ridiculously long. It reaches my waist. Time to get a few inches off.

So tell me. How are your writing, rummaging and ridiculousness going?

AtoZ Theme Reveal at Tongue In Cheek

I bit the bullet and decided to join the AtoZ blog hop this year, and I can't wait. For the past few years, I've diligently gone to visit the participants and enjoyed discovering so many other cool cats out in the bloggerverse.

This year, I've even gone so far as to join the Theme Reveal! So be sure to check out all the other cool kids joining in!

And now without further ado, I give you my AtoZ Theme "She Actually Posted That?-The best reruns this blog has to offer."

Why does Ava talk about sea monkeys so much? Why do the demon rhythms of the polka strike fear into Ava's heart? What exactly is a Polkapocalypse? When did Ava attempt to be a super villian? How long was her reign as the local county 'Possum Queen? Why did she write about Karaoke in the Pokey (prison)? Just how much does she love rummage? Will she entertain us with her musings on mullets or mutton chops when it's the day for the letter M?

The answers to these questions and many more will be revealed during the month of April. I really wanted to participate during this extremely hectic time of year, so the way I could do it was by tapping some of the six years of bizarre posts I have. They'll be all new to anyone who hasn't stopped by before, and for my followers now, there are plenty in here you ain't seen yet. So it's a win/win all around.

 I'm looking forward to meeting new friends to come and visit me in the asylum, and going out to other blogs to check in on the goings ons. Can't wait until April first! Until then, citizens!

Conking Out Computer

My MacBook, which is about seven years old and has been being very crotchety this past year, is really starting to crap out. Which makes doing any social media a chore.

I've developed a long and harrowing relationship with the stupid spinning beach ball. It's becoming my trigger, like Pavlov's bell. I see that thing and in ten seconds I'm enraged with impatience.

It puts a big damper on my writing as well. It takes literally ten minutes just to open a wip. Then more of my hair is torn out in absolute frustration quality time is spent with the spinning beach ball with every command I give. Don't even get me started on saving said wip.

I've been backing up my computer daily, which, you guessed it, takes even more time to do now than ever before.

So I'm feeling badly because I haven't been getting out to the blogs I love (see sidebar for all the cool cats to visit). It just takes up so much time that I don't have much of.

To help me chill out and get through, I'm dedicating this song to the swirling beach ball. Enjoy some Funk on this Funky Friday. I hope it takes you into a fantastic weekend.

Dear Preschool Mom

Dear Preschool Mom,

Please don't give me your baby to hold so you can help your child with her Valentine project during the party, come back ten minutes later and tell me said baby has a fever and a rash that you think *might* be chicken pox. You know, better yet? Don't bring the baby to a party full of sugared up three year olds at all and expose them to any of it.

If you do that again, I'm going to raise your child's tuition to cover the costs of installing a decontamination shower just inside the door of my home. 

You've been warned.

Sincerely,
Mrs. Quinn

Man, do three year olds know how to party hard. Apparently to them a party isn't a success unless you've gotten icing up to your elbows, a kickin' juice mustache, and paste in your hair. Anything beyond that is bonus.

As you can tell, the parties are planned and run by the parents. So then why am I exhausted? I'm supposed to be writing now since we're going to be buried in a foot and a half of snow by tomorrow. No writing gets done on snow days over here at Casa de Quinn (or Chez Quinn for all my French Canadian silent lurkers).

So as I type, I'm taking a page out of the three year olds' book and juicing up on caffeine. If only I could get a sweet juice mustache going, I know it would make all the difference.

This would be a kickin' diet coke mustache, dontcha think? (picture from yahoo celebrity ca.)

Hope you're getting lots of words on the page, or whatever it is that you love to do- done.

Until next time, Citizens.

Should I Be Worried?

So the youngest Urchin, who I'll grant you, has always marched to the beat of her own drum has begun to worry me a little.

The Oldest Urchin, who watched the old Batman and Robin Movie and when they rolled up in the Batmobile to the Batcopter exclaimed, "Can it get any more action packed than this?!?" She's the girl who watched, enthralled and fearful for Batman's life as he was attacked by a shark.



She is now a super hero fanatic.

The youngest Urchin, however, loves to play the villains. Joker, Riddler, Catwoman, Two Face, Lex Luther. You name it.

The signs were there. Two years ago her Barbies were leading extremely tragic lives. And all the quotes from this post are her.

This is also the child who became Alice Cooper's biggest fan.

And now the villains.

Not that she could ever have learned it from me, mind you.

My Evil Plans Are Taking Shape
Thursday Ridiculousness
Super Villain Update

Huh. Maybe I should be more worried about myself.

Now My Secret Imaginary Boyfriend Is Trying To Kill Me

Some of you may remember that I have a crush on the evil Dr. Doofenshmirtz. Well I've now had this song of his stuck in my head for several days.



This one might actually do me in. But what do you expect from an evil fiend bent on taking over the tri-state area?

The Man and I celebrated our anniversary last Friday. Sixteen years now he's put up with my shenanigans. We decided to go with the theme that has been most prevalent at Chez Quinn over the past year (Hell, it could be the theme of our entire marriage) and took the Urchins to the circus as a celebration. It was quite fitting.

A good time was had by all. We go every year, and every year I leave saying the same thing. I really need to write a romance series about circus performers. I know the title up there says Tongue In Cheek, but I'm actually serious this time. A small circus where most of the drama doesn't happen in the tent. Like this.



I want to write about real circus. Intense, do-or-die struggles with momentary glimpses of euphoria. Grinding, sweat-covered, bone-jarring nights covered in a high gloss. The circus and all that goes with it.

Some day I will.

Mii Music Is Slowly Killing Me

So, the Urchins love to make Miis. If you're not familiar with them, they are little characters on Wii that can be players in some of the games. The girls have made over fifty of them. They love it. Go figure.

I don't mind it too much. It allows me ten or fifteen minutes of peace while they make one or two, and I can be in another room getting something done. But the music . . .  It's killing me.

I usually don't register it right away (or I'd remember to have them turn the volume off). But it's insidious. Some time later, it strikes. It begins replaying in my head, and I can't get it out.



Soon, it takes over my brain like that thing Khan put in Chekov's ear.



And then things start to get a little hazy. I'm not always sure what happens next, but I fear it triggers some sort of Jekyll and Hyde type phenomenon in me.



So lock up your axes, Citizens. You never know when I might get loose!

Happy Thanksgiving

Have a safe and wonderful Thanksgiving everyone. I know I'm going to need a little humor to get through the holiday this year. So here's my favorite Thanksgiving scene. Enjoy and happy Thanksgiving, Citizens.

Seasick Steve And Voice Mail Evilness

Here's a real life character. I really dig his music. The guitar he uses in the song below has more strings than his others. He even has a one stringed instrument made from a hunk of wood, two crushed soda cans and a string that almost looks like a rubber band. But boy can he make it sing!

Here he is playing I Started Out With Nothing.



Onto other news. I've been doing battle with the Dept. of Education's website and voice mail system. Delynn was right to choose voice mail as her minion. It's pure EVIL!

I'm trying to get information on my teaching certificate's status. And it's not easy to come by taking the prescribed Dept. of Ed. route. I may have to re-open my store The Angry Villager and deal with them on my terms.

Which brings me to my writing. Which has not been going well lately. I'm running out of time to be home with my kiddos and writing while I'm here. And I haven't made the most of it. I'm trying to turn that around, but it's tough. We'll see if I make some of the more lofty goals I've set for myself. I won't even consult my Magic Eight Ball. I swear that thing is stacked against me in the answers department.

Until Next time, Citizens!