Adult Diapers Could Come In Handy

Today, in honor of it being Saturday and having nothing better to write, I have compiled a list of my most favorite funny blog postings. I've found these over time stalking archives through lots of tedious research. With out further ado, I give you the gift of bladder control loss:

Careful With That Punctuation Sport By NukeDad
Neighborhood Hijinks By Mrs.4444
If Jeopardy Were Written By Parents By BusyDad
The Incident By Joeprah
Fatherhood Is A Contact Sport: Redux By Big Bad Daddy
Pink Shirt By Mike
How To Create A High Level Of BlogZanity By Bad Momma

This list is far from comprehensive. So I would like you to leave me links to your funniest favorites, either from your own blog or others. I love to laugh!

So Much To Be Thankful For

Life around here always has it's ups and downs. When I weigh them, the ups win, hands down.
I am grateful for:

• My faith and God's loving grace in my life.
• My Children, who bring me more joy than I will ever deserve.
• Mr. Weasel, who is totally and completely my better half. The smartest thing I ever did was asking him to marry me.
• My home being warm, my children being comfortable and my hubby being hawt!
• My friends and their kindness, generosity and company.
• My mechanic, who does wonders for restoring my faith in humanity and honesty.
• My Mother's passing. She is now reunited with Dad, 3 of her children, 1 granddaughter and God. She is truly happy after many years of suffering.
• The dinner that will be on my table today.
  
• My life, that is so full of blessings it makes me tear up.
• My blog. It has brought me so much enjoyment and it has brought me all of you.
• All of you and your blogs. You are some pretty great people and have offered me laughs, prospective and friendship.
• All the ad clicking you folks are doing, the new total is $165.28
  
• The Microbiologist who took FWM to the doctor with her and almost made me tinkle! The pics are priceless.

I am grateful for all of this and much more. Happy Thanksgiving!

We Believe

Dearest Little Snot,
I am writing to you to inform you that, yes You UnGodly Little Beast, there is a Santa Claus!. I really don't appreciate you spreading vicious lies to my children about it all being a giant facade orchestrated by the Whole World and carried out by parents just to make you happy (wow, you are self absorbed). You are endangering my kids places on the 'nice list' by making them doubt because of nasty rumors.

Did you ever stop to think that maybe that's the way it works at your house because you didn't make the cut and are on the naughty list (and I am soooo not surprised by this) and your pansy parents just don't have the scrote to tell you? So instead they ditch the coal before you wake and place presents (that you don't deserve) under the tree so that they don't have to listen to your little whiny tantrum fit. They just don't want you to feel bad about about yourself or your horrific manners and behavior. This, by the way, is exactly what's wrong with kids like you today. It's like social promotion in schools. Can't read, can't write, can't add, let's promote you to the next grade level so you don't get your feelings hurt. You illiterate little bastadge!

In Our house we believe in Santa. We work hard to achieve Nice List status. We try to be kind to others and each other, not to get presents but because we should. We write letters to Santa and not just a laundry list of "I Want!". We leave a snack for him and his reindeer to try and make his trip as comfortable as possible. In return he leaves us the gifts that he thinks will bring us joy and help us to remember what we are indeed celebrating.

So I am giving you this warning right now. If you ever say something as asinine as this to any of my children again, I will take the coal that Santa leaves behind for you and show you how to make diamonds. 'Nuff said.

Update on the ad clicking campaign: $143.18 is the latest total. This is why I believe! Thanks again. This can keep growing until the 30th to arrive around Christmas.

*Clarification*~ This is only satire, preemptive satire, but satire nonetheless. If this had been an actual event my words would not be nearly this gentle and measured.

I'm Here To Stay!

Well folks, this is my 100th post and it looks like I'm here to stay. So far this blogging thing seems to be working out for me. In the 5 months that I have been turning your brains into mush writing interesting articles to stimulate and challenge your minds and promote conversation such as, 'this woman is a fruitcake', I have obtained much positive feedback and honest criticisms like 'you're hurting my brain you talentless hack' and 'why do you think your funny?'.

I have reaped many benefits out of the experience thus far. I have been offered countless business opportunities involving overseas banking accounts. I have found out how to become a CSI online and how to register to become a video game developer. I have learned where to get Viagra at a discount price by mail and I can not forget that TraciXXX wants to perform for me too.

I have stalked for personal gain befriended and been befriended by some very talented bloggers and blogresses who have helped me develop and grow as a blogger, taught me some tricks of the posting trade, like how to post pictures and video (I am working on ideas for the next one), left me reassuring comments and most importantly gave me the link love to gain readership. You, my friends(and I do consider you friends), are the best and I am very grateful of how you have supported me and allowed me to ride on your coattails.

You have allowed me to go on a Virtual World Tour of the blogosphere. I have visited some pretty great people by mail. The tour is far from over so stay tuned.

In return I have offered you such mental stimulation as Twisted Thoughts. Helpful advice like Do it Yourself Car Repairs, and ideas to entertain yourself in the future here , here and here. I have offered you the odd chuckle and in return you have kept coming back for more and recommended reading this blog to others.

So on this momentous occasion, I am going to ask for more (typical woman). I would like you to to leave a comment about one of the following : A) Describe this blog in one word , B) Top ten reasons I read this blog, C) I want to be WeaselMomma because.... D) Top 10 drawbacks to reading World of Weasels. I am hoping to receive 100 comments. I've never ever even come close to that before, but here's to wishful thinking. And don't forget, it all started here.

Thanksgiving Fun

Ahhh, Thanksgiving. A Time to come together with family and celebrate all of the blessings we have. A day to remember, appreciate and show gratitude for yet having survived another year. A day that more times than not is filled with landmines just waiting to be stepped on.

When spending the holiday with relatives, either by blood or marriage, there is always going to be sniper fire. Comments from Aunt Cookie, who still can't believe he married that little tramp, to the effect of "MMMMM, this tastes wonderful. It's not nearly as dry as it looks" and the inevitable small talk around the wine bottle about "little Susie's boobies are starting to bud". The conversation throughout the day will continually go downhill and you will soon get to hear all about Grandpa Dan's prostate in more detail than you can digest through.

You will hear all the play by play of cousin Lucy and her husband Jed's infertility issues, as Aunt Betsy is in the corner telling everyone that they can't conceive because Lucy was a tramp in college. Speculation and rumor of divorce will be whispered about Mike and Sara because they didn't accept the invitation to dinner. In reality, they were smart enough to avoid this whole scene in favor of 4 nights in the Bahamas.

Soon desert will be served. As Uncle Lou scoffs down his 3rd piece of homemade pie, Aunt Cookie asks "where did you buy the pie? I hope you didn't pay too much, it's a bit too sweet". You want to scream, but you have to play nice. You try to hide in the bathroom to take a few deep breaths only to find it occupied with Aunt Betsy and a colitis attack. Aunt Cookie blames the gravy.

In order to protect ourselves, here in Weaselville we start the day with bloody Mary's. They are just enough armour to deflect the scathing comments and numb the conversation. They take the edge off of an exhausting day. A huge debt of gratitude goes out to my sister-in-law for bringing this tradition to our family.

Her and now, I propose to you a new national holiday ~Grateful Friday~(to be celebrated on the 4th Friday of November) in order to appreciate and mock our relatives from a distance while enjoying a meal with friends. A day to show gratitude for the people we hang out with by choice, not just by birth or marriage. A day to celebrate and be grateful for having survived another Thanksgiving. We already have the day off of work. We already have dinner made, and the Bloody Mary's can be for fun and not just medicinal.

And a huge shout out to BadMomma who has a brilliantly funny Thanksgiving Survival Guide.

Working Within The Budget

With the Christmas season so quickly approaching, I am putting much thought into gifts that won't break the bank. For friends and neighbors I usually whip up some homemade cookies and such, to be delivered in decorative tins. I enjoy the baking and don't mind putting the time in. The catch is that the ingredients wind up getting mighty pricey. So I have been searching for something a little more pocket friendly that will still spread the Christmas cheer that I feel in in my heart. It has to be something made with my own hands, to show how much individual caring went into each gift.

After thinking and searching, and searching and thinking, a friend sent me an e-mail with the perfect idea. This gift fits all the criteria. Thoughtful, inexpensive and handmade. So without further ado, this my friends is what you will be recieving from me this year.



Update on the Ad Clicking Campaign: Grand Total is up to $127.45! Thanks for the clicks.

A Meme by Any Other Name is Still A Meme

I was tagged by Melisa @ Suburban scrawl for the one word meme. So, here ya go. Try not to fall asleep. There will be a quiz.


Where is your cell phone? Counter.

Where is your significant other? Computer.

Your hair color? Dark.

Your mother? Heaven?

Your father? Heaven.

Your favorite thing? Sunshine.

Your dream last night? Dunno.

Your dream/goal? Heaven.

The room you’re in? Kitchen.

Your hobby? Blogging.

Your fear? Loss.

Where do you want to be in 6 years? Here.

Where were you last night? Home.

What you’re not? Fake.

One of your wish-list items? Satisfaction.

Where you grew up? Marriage.

Last thing you did? Laundry.

What are you wearing? Clothes.

Your TV? On.

Your pet? Cuddly.

Your computer? Mac.

Your mood? Relaxed.

Missing someone? Always.

Your car? Minivan.

Something you’re not wearing? Rolex.

Favorite store? None.

Your summer? Stolen.

Love someone? Many.

Your favorite color? Emerald

When is the last time you laughed? Yesterday.

Last time you cried? Overdue.

Now I am supposed to tag eight of you. But I figure you should consider yourself tagged in you are trying to participate in NoBloMo. It will give you an easy post to fill.

Throwing a Nut To a Squirrel

Tom over at Being Michael's Daddy during what must have been a weekend drinking binge has given me this award
“These blogs are exceedingly charming. These kind bloggers aim to find and be friends. They are not interested in prizes or self-aggrandizement. Our hope is that when the ribbons of these prizes are cut, even more friendships are propagated. Please give more attention to these writers! Deliver this award to eight bloggers who must choose eight more and include this cleverly-written text into the body of their award.” .


I feel very honored and undeserving of this award because I am secretly all about winning prizes and self aggrandizement. My blog getting on this prestigious list of talented bloggers must have been an over site. Hopefully Tom won't realize his mistake.

Heck, every squirrel finds a nut sooner or later, so I am just going to enjoy this one.

Now it is my pleasure to pass this onto eight very deserving bloggers, who don't mind a talentless hack like me stalking their blogs.

1. Unraveling Life's Mysteries
2. Life and Thoughts of a Midwest Geek
3. Momo Fali's
4. Manic Mom
5. Terri Terri Quite Contrary
6. Busy Dad Blog
7. Half Past Kissing Time
8. My Microscopic Life

Give them a read if you don't already, they are always worth the click.

Update on the Ad Clicking Campaign. By sacrificing your clicking fingers for the cause. You lovely folks have raised $109.63 to feed the Weasels! That means that right around Christmas I will receive a check. Thanks to all of you for all of your support! Love those clicks!

The Cat Whisperer

Amidst our menagerie of pets exists a cat named Smores. She is a cute, but strange little fur ball. A beautiful and timid calico, she came to us as an abandoned runt. So small I used to keep her cuddled up in the pocket of sweatshirt. She seemed to enjoy the cozy warmth and protection. So small that we would not let her walk the floors freely for fear of her getting stepped on. We would lift her into the food dish and the litter box, for she would never be able to get there own her own. She received more TLC than is natural, which brings me to her strange behavior.

Smores lives in fear of us. She is even fearful of the hamsters. You would swear that she is regularly mistreated and suffering abuse. She slinks around the house secret agent style. Always taking the long way through a room by sticking to the walls and using the furniture for cover. Either she has had Army Scout training or seen the GodFather too many times. Avoiding all contact with humans and the other 2 cats, with one exception.

That exception would be Monkey Weasel. Also a runt in her own right. Quiet and gentle in personality, she and Smores have some kind of super natural connection. Smores never lets Monkey Weasel out of sight. When she's at school, smores will pout all day in Monkey's bed. While this cat will run in terror and hide if someone walks across the room, she will jump into Monkey's lap and cuddle for hours. When Monkey takes a shower, Smores will whine outside the bathroom door. Smores sleeps in Monkey's bed and rarely leaves her side.

Where this gets stranger is that they 'talk' to each other. Smores will "Meow, Meow" and Monkey will "Meow, Meow" back, but they actually seem to communicate. We can ask Monkey to tell Smores to hop up onto the couch, or go get some food, or head upstairs for a nap. Monkey will "meow meow meow meow meow" and lo and behold the cat does it! Monkey always seems to understand what Smores is saying too.

We often ask Monkey Weasel what she said to the cat or how she knows how to speak 'cat' and her response is always, "I don't know, I just meowed". And when Monkey meows you would really think the sound is coming from a cat. The other cats aren't responsive to this, only Smores. They seem to have some kind of telepathy. And even though Smores hides from the rest of us with the skill of the French Resistance, she and Monkey are the best of friends. Some how or another they just get each other.

Sappy and funny?

Yes Virginia, There is a Santa Claus!

Last year around this time, Smallest Weasel was completely enthralled with 'her'(very possessive) Grandma in Florida. Every morning as soon as the older Weasels would head out the door to school she would bring me the phone and insist that it was time for her daily chat with Grandma. Grandma would never go out of the house in the morning until after the ritual phone call.

As Christmas approached and I sat down with Smallest Weasel to write her letter to Santa. The first thing that she insisted Santa was going to bring her for Christmas was "Grandma". Well alrighty then, next on the list was a stuffed animal replica of Smallest Weasel's cat and then some "mac & cheese".

Santa certainly had a big order to fill. Grandma's health had not been good and a trip in the sleigh would make it difficult to bring along her oxygen tanks. Mr. Weasel and I talked and decided it would be best to send Grandma an airline ticket, but that was certainly going to be more money than was in the budget. Lo and behold, I got online and with my first try found a dirt cheap flight at just the right time. I called Grandma and she was thrilled. She would fly in a few days before Christmas and stay for 2 weeks. Smallest Weasel was on cloud 9, even though Grandma wouldn't coming by sleigh.

Topping Eldest Weasel's Christmas list was a cell phone. She complained regularly and incessantly about being the only kid on earth without a cell phone. After a chat with Santa, I had it on good authority that he was bringing her one.

Grandma didn't have a cell phone either. Living alone and in poor health never slowed her down any. She was always off galavanting alone and with friends. Her car was not what you would call reliable. I would feel better if she had a phone. I added her onto my plan and that would be her gift.

We all have our Christmas traditions. One of mine has always been that we open presents from family members on Christmas Eve after we return from mass. Then as we sleep, Santa works his magic.

Last Christmas Eve as we sat and exchanged gifts, Grandma opened her phone to the wide eyed, slack jawed, steaming hot expression of Eldest Weasel. We thought for sure that she was gonna blow. Eldest managed to pull it together without saying a word and remain gracious about her pajamas. Mr. Weasel and I had all we could do to keep straight faces. Grandma was thrilled with her new phone and horrified (in a good way) that we would make Eldest squirm like that. She knew that Eldest was about to lose her mind. She also knew what Santa was planning to bring Eldest Weasel.

Eldest was maintaining her composure very well. That left me only one thing to do, throw fuel on the fire. "Would you program Grandma's phone for her and show her how to take pictures?". At this point it took Eldest all the restraint she could muster not to totally lose it. She begrudgingly set Grandma up and showed her all the features. Grandma, Mr. W. and I were holding ourselves laughing while trying to hide our glee. We would be busting by the time the morning came around. Just as Christmas Eve should be.

Christmas morning was joyful and glorious. Filled with love and family and Christmas Magic. Eldest and all the Weasels were thrilled with the gifts left for them by Good Old ST. Nick. We adults gleaned so much joy by watching their faces as they unwrapped the items from their lists.

Grandma didn't make it through her 2 year contract. That was her last Christmas. Grandma always said that I was the best Christmas present that she ever received (being born 2 weeks before Christmas). Last year Grandma was the best present I could have received. We all got what we wanted for Christmas.

P.S. ~ The Microbiologist knows how to party! More adventures with Flat WeaselMomma.
P.S.S. ~ Your ad clicking is up to $95.69 $99.60! Way to go! Only about 25 or so more ad clicks and I get a check! Thanks everybody for clicking my ads.

Pinky or The Brain?

It seems that my plan for World Domination, Web Domination blog domination has been foiled. Somehow, Joeprah has managed to escape from the torture chamber I had erected in my basement and is back blogging again.

I thought for sure that back in July when I drugged and kidnapped him on his way home from vacation that my plan to dominate the blogosphere was foolproof.

Back in September he managed to escape. I had no idea that the Weasels would switch teams and let him free for a couple of snickers bars bucks little turncoats. Once I was able to recapture him, I had to take greater security measures. We don't have a watchdog, so I installed the hamsters and the fat, lazy cats as my early warning system.

We all know how well that worked. Of course he managed to entertain the cats by letting the hamsters loose. Oh well, at least his imprisonment allowed me time to gain a base readership and a small following. He didn't call the FBI (that was nice of him). So all's well that ends well.

Do you know what I'm gonna try to do tonight?

Update ~ My ad click-o-meter is up to $84.50! Thanks for the clicks!
Update2 ~ Flat WeaselMomma is proving helpful at the Microbiologist lab.

Feelin' The Love

I'm feeling all warm and fuzzy this morning. No, I didn't wet the bed. The blog love is a flowin'. Mike of Unraveling Life's Mysteries and OhCaptain of Life and Thoughts of a Midwest Geek have picked up my cause ('cause Mr. Weasel doesn't have a job) and posted up some link love asking their readers to click my ads, and your ads too. So far all combined clicks are adding up to $58.00. That's a lot of clicking! As soon as I reach $100.00 Google will send me a check.

Other warm and fuzzies are springing forth from the fact that I am on a virtual vacation right now. I am having a boat load of fun, playing with test tubes. That's right, Flat WeaselMomma is in the lab with the MicroBiologist. Just click over there to read about our adventures.

According to unconfirmed reports BusyDad has been making progress in his therapy sessions after his visit with Flat WeaselMomma and is expected to be able to talk about it very soon. So stay tuned folks!

Like A Good Bra.......

You, my faithful readers, are full of support. Thank you for all of the prayers, thoughts and clicks.
Mr. Weasel and I were joking with each other about the ads on this blog becoming our new source of income. I mean, we all know that you can't even buy a Happy Meal a month from the ad revenue. Yesterday, my earnings from your clicks climbed to $31.31! How many clicks there must have been! You all are the best.

There are bright sides to Mr. Weasel being out of work. And well, My blog really didn't need a make-over any more than AIG executives need a weekend retreat.

Top Ten Good Things About Mr. Weasel being laid-off:

1. More time to play RockBand and work on becoming the newest version of the Partridge Family.
2. We no longer have to worry about our federal income taxes being raised in the next presidential administration.
3. We no longer have to worry about paying our mortgage or putting gas in our car (OhCaptain will be doing it).
   
4. Mr. W. will no longer have an excuse for not reading my blog.
5. More opportunity for 'grown-up time' during school hours.
6. Mr. W. no longer has to sit next to the guy with the flatulence problem at the office.
7. Once we find some 'itos', we can use the mojo that NukeDad sent us to have Mojitos.
8. Two words ~ Government Cheese!
9. I will no longer have to answer the incessant question of 'when is Dad coming home?'
10. I now finally understand what Mr. W. does for a living ~ nothing!

Update ~ The Microbiologist is not sharing donuts with me. She probably is trying to save my waist line from further damage.

CLICK MY ADS!!!!!!

We Weasels are a one income family or rather I should say were a one income family. Now we are a zero income family. As luck, or rather this current economy would have it, Mr. Weasel has been laid-off.

This is not good, as it takes his entire income to support our herd. However, it will be okay. One way or another, things will work out. This is not the worst thing that could happen. We learned that 6 1/2 years ago.

Mr. Weasel was out of a job for a while way back a long time ago in a land far far away and in the end it turned out to be for the best. This time could work out just the same.

In the mean time, click the heck out of my ads. I have made almost $2.00 on those ads since June. Every little, you know.

We have health. We have family. We have RockBand. It's all good.

Happy Birthday, Dad!

Today is my Dad's birthday. It's not the actual anniversary of his birth, but his '2nd birthday' as he used to refer to it. Today marks the 233rd Birthday of the United States Marine Corps. Dad was a Marine. I know, I know, 'Once a Marine always a Marine', but Dad passed away 10 years ago. So 'was' seems an appropriate term.

Dad loved his birthdays, both of them. That is where I learned to love my birthday. Not that a kid needs a reason to love their birthday, but he taught me to always enjoy my birthday no matter how many years it was that I was celebrating. He taught me that my birthday was my own special day and that I should treat it as a special holiday. Through the years, I have realized that on this and many other topics, Dad was right. He was never about presents and cake, just about remembering and gesturing.

Dad always celebrated the Marine Corps Birthday. He always took a vacation day from work for each of his birthdays, although he rarely took a sick day. As a child he would always convince his mother to let him stay home from school as his present. None of his 7 siblings ever got the day off.

Dad never reminded us his 2nd birthday was coming. He never expected presents. He just wanted us to remember and acknowledge. Year after year we would wake up for school, enter the kitchen, see Dad and say "Why are you home?". "It's my birthday." was the response. Oops, forgot again!

Today I have not forgotten. Nor have I since I reached adulthood.

Dad was a real special kind of guy. Lots of people think that about their dad, but he really was. He was Joe six-pack. Jack of some trades, master of none. He was a dependable friend, a completely devoted husband and a great Dad.

Dad never gave himself credit for being very smart. He hated school and struggled with his classes. He used to call himself a 'dummy', but he was one of the smartest people I have ever met. He would discuss any subject. If it was something he didn't know about, he wanted to listen and learn. If it was a subject he disagreed about, he wanted to understand the other side. And if it was something that required thought, he was a man you wanted to hear from.

Dad was always extremely well thought out. He could always offer you a different prospective and a reason. You would never walk away without food for thought. He was a good sounding board and a great counselor.

Dad is also where I developed my sense of humor. He loved a good joke, especially if the players weren't in on it. He derived enjoyment from small pleasures and was self entertaining. Dad would stir up trouble just to watch it play out and have a good laugh. As we got older he would fill us in and have us enjoy the laugh with him as we watched the scene play out. Most of it was gut busting funny. He knew how to stir a pot. He could also entertain the room with the best stories. He was a one of a kind.

Dad understood how to handle a teenager. He knew how to get through to us when screaming and grounding were no longer deterrents and abuse had been outlawed. Once, and only once, on a Friday night when I was 18 ,and home from college for the summer, I stayed out all night all night at a local bar with friends (don't gasp like you never). I came home barely in time to change into my work clothes and in no condition to go to work at 6 a.m. Dad sat at the kitchen and said nothing more than 'good morning" when I entered the house. I changed and left for work ( a 2 block walk) and endured 8 hrs in an unforgiving, un-airconditioned kitchen in the city during August. Needless to say, by the time my shift was over at 2, I was ready for some rest and recuperation. I was sick to my stomach, sweaty, head pounding and exhausted. All I wanted was to hit my bed.

After I entered the house and before I could hit the sheets, Dad said to me "I need you to do me a favor". That was the unspoken kiss of death and I knew it. "I need my whites(laundry) washed for the morning". After that it was 'could you shine up my shoes, take care of the kitchen, the rug needs some attention, and the list when on and on until he showed some mercy around 10 p.m. I got the message. I never pulled that trick again.

There have been many times since his death that I have wished for his council, advice, comfort. There have been times that I have longed for his wisdom and company.

Today I will continue a tradition that began when I finally started remembering this birthday. I will bake a Birthday cake. I will not let the Weasels have any until they sing Happy Birthday to the Marine Corps. I think Dad would get a kick out of that.

I could go on until this became a book. There is so much more I could say say. So many more stories to tell. But what it boils down to is this; I love you Dad, Happy Birthday.

And a Happy Birthday to the Marine Corps and all Marines. Thank you for your your service. Semper Fi.

How to make a tween boy cry.

Yesterday the Weasel Family went on a field trip of sorts. We attended one of the most fun fundraisers ever. The Lady Knights of Columbus hosted a Wii Bowling Tournament to benefit SIDS of Illinois. It was a great time.

The day was full of pizza, laughs, raffles, video games and tears. The 4 oldest Weasels and myself were signed up for the tournament. Mr. Weasel and Smallest Weasel were our cheerleading section. One bye one the Weasels started failing us. They were getting picked off by the competition in rapid fire style. Oldest Weasel was up. Her loving and supportive parents let her know that preserving the family honor was now the task at hand, and that if she let us down she would be walking home.*

Eldest Weasel tied her first match. Now she had a playoff to win in order to move on to the next round off play. In the mean time it was my turn. I was up, the pressure was on. I hadn't played this game in at least 6 months. I was matched up against a 14 year old, and we all know they can play video games in their sleep. I was really regretting not getting some practice in over the last few weeks. I managed to squeak out a win and was going to move on to the next round.

Soon I found out that Eldest Weasel had won her playoff and that she too was moving on. Checking the tournament board we discovered that in the next round we would be pitted against each other. Mother against daughter. Only one could move on. I had mixed feelings and turmoil churning within me. I wanted to go as far as I could in this competition, but my maternal instincts were to cheer on my offspring. I was torn. Then came the moment of clarity and seconds before the next game began, I looked my beautiful Weasel in the eye and told her everything that was in my heart "you're goin' down!".

And down she went. I was moving on to the semi-finals. Having already picked off 2 teenagers I saw my prey opponent for round 3. Yet another teen to take down. The stakes were high. My ride home Family honor was on the line.

Between rounds Mr. Weasel supported the cause by buying lots of raffle tickets. The rest of the gang joined into the face painting, pizza munching and emptying Dad's wallet (all for a good cause ~cause they wanted to win RockBand (special edition for the Wii complete with mic guitar and drums).

A quick check of the winning numbers on the raffle board showed that they had won............2 water bottles!!!!!! The son of a friend was the lucky winner of RockBand.

On to the the semi~finals, where yet again, I was able to crush the hopes of a teen who had her eye on the the grand prize of a Wii. I was going to the finals. I was confident. I was ready and able. I was Rocky Balboa. I had the eye of the tiger. I was a contender. I was about to eat my words. I was about to suffer an embarrassing defeat at the hands of grown man who I am sure must play this game professionally.

He was a great sport and managed not to laugh out loud as he totally pwned me. In the end I won a first place loser award 2nd place medal and a $25.00 gift card to the restaurant where the event was being held. It was all a lot of fun and I pretended to be gracious in my defeat congratulated the winner.

The whole gang sat down to munch on some more pizza and they showed me the fabulous water bottles they had won. I encouraged Eldest to check the raffle board again. Some of the prizes were yet to be claimed. She returned to inform us that we indeed had the winning ticket for RockBand. She then went to inform the officials of the mistake. Right away they remedied the mix-up by making a tween boy cry.

After 6 hours of fun we headed home to rock out in the living room. The family that plays together......

*We relented after my embarrassing loss and let everyone ride home in the car.

I Found This Amusing

(exerpt from Warrior Culture of the U.S. Marines, Copyright 2001 Marion F. Sturkey) The U.S. Army, the U.S. Navy, and the U.S. Air Force all have their own songs.

For the U.S. Navy, Anchors Aweigh was written in 1906 by Lt. Charles Zimmerman and midshipman Alfred Miles. Initially the song was a tribute to the Naval Academy Class of 1907. Various people revised it later, trying to weed out the nonsense. Another midshipman, Royal Lovell, penned the final stanza in 1926. Anchors Aweigh has a snappy little tune, but no one knows what the words imply. The original first stanza in 1906 had dealt solely with the game of football. Even today, the song offers a bittersweet "farewell to college joys." The lyrics end by "wishing you a happy voyage home." Many musical experts think that Anchors Aweigh is a ballad for football players who like sailboats. But, no one really knows for sure.
The U.S. Army adopted a snazzy tune for The Caisson Song. Unlike the words in the Navy's song, the words of the Army's song make sense. According to the words of each stanza, The Caisson Song clearly is a melody for rural motorists. Edmund Gruber wrote the original lyrics in the Philippines during World War I. Naturally, since most of the fighting was 8000 miles away in Europe, Gruber made only a passing reference to warfare. Yet, he was careful to be "politically correct." He apparently sought the help of first grade students in composing the lyrics. The banal "Hi, hi, hee" is a dead giveaway. No one has a clue as to what it might mean. Still, at least it rhymes.
The U.S. Air Force did not exist in 1938. But, that year Liberty Magazine sponsored a contest for an official song for the Army Air Corps. The magazine received 757 entries. A group of Army Air Corps wives (yes, believe it or not, wives) selected the entry from Robert Crawford, Off We Go into the Wild Blue Yonder.
After World War II the Army Air Corps evolved into the U.S. Air Force. This fledgling flying club adopted Off We Go' as their official song. It suited the illusionary nature of the new Wild-Blue-Yonder-Wonders with references to "those who love the vastness of the sky" and the fictitious "rainbow's pot of gold." The final stanza speaks of the "gray haired wonder," an admirable gesture of non-discrimination for the new civilianized Air Force.
These three songs, Anchors Aweigh, The Caisson Song, and Off We Go into the Wild Blue Yonder, are often played at public events. They obviously delight the members and advocates of the affected service: Navy, Army, or Air Force. When their song is played, sailors, soldiers, and zoomies leap to their feet and shout, cheer, clap their hands, and jive with the music. They have a jolly time, almost like a high school pep rally.

The U.S. Marine Corps is the United States' military band of brothers dedicated to warfighting. The proud Brotherhood of Marines is guided by principles, values, virtues, love of country, and its Warrior Culture. This brotherhood of American Patriots has no song. Instead, Marine Warriors have a hymn. When The Marines' Hymn is played, United States Marines stand at attention. They silently show their pride in their fellow Marines, their Corps, their Country, their heritage, and their hymn.
The Marines' Hymn is a tribute to Warriors. Marine Warriors stormed fortress Derna, raised the American flag, and gave us "the shores of Tripoli." Marines fought their way into the castle at Chapultepec and gave us the "halls of Montezuma." Marines exist for the purpose of warfighting. Fighting is their role in life. They "fight for right and freedom" and "to keep our honor clean." They fight "in the air, on land, and sea." The Marine Corps is Valhalla for Warriors. U.S. Marines need no song. They have a hymn.
Ironically, no one knows who wrote the hymn, which was in widespread use by the mid-1800s. Col. A.S. McLemore, USMC, spent several years trying to identify the origin of the tune. In 1878 he told the leader of the Marine Band that the tune had been adopted from the comic opera Genevieve de Barbant, by Jaques Offenback. Yet, others believe the tune originated from a Spanish folk song. Whatever! Regardless of its origin, The Marines' Hymn has remained a revered icon of the United States Marine Corps for almost 200 years.
In 1929 The Marines' Hymn became the official hymn of the Corps. Thirteen years later in November 1942 the Commandant approved a change in the words of the first verse, fourth line. Because of the increasing use of aircraft in the Corps, the words were changed to "In the air, on land, and sea." No other changes have been made since that time. When you have attained absolute perfection, there is no need for further modification:

From the Halls of Montezuma, To the Shores of Tripoli; We fight our country's battles In the air, on land, and sea; First to fight for right and freedom And to keep our honor clean; We are proud to claim the title Of UNITED STATES MARINES. Our flag's unfurled to every breeze, From dawn to setting sun; We have fought in every clime and place Where we could take a gun; In the snow of far off northern lands And in sunny tropic scenes; You will find us always on the job -- The UNITED STATES MARINES. Here's health to you and to our Corps Which we are proud to serve; In many a strife we've fought for life And never lost our nerve; If the Army and the Navy Ever look on Heaven's scenes; They will find the streets are guarded By UNITED STATES MARINES.

Sir Winston Churchill, British Prime Minister, became an ardent admirer of the U.S. Marine Corps. In the company of guests of state, he often demonstrated his respect for U.S. Marines by reciting, from memory, all three verses of The Marines' Hymn.

Borrowed from Heritage Press International

Hmm......

• Russia to station missiles on it's border with Poland.
• Iran Threatens U.S. With Suicide Bombers.

This could get interesting.

Obamanation

The deed is done. The election is over and we will not have to live through any more political commercials for a while. We have once again showcased for the world how we roll. Peaceful, free elections(except for voter intimidation on the part of the black panthers in Philadelphia). Democracy at work. Come January, we will have a peaceful transfer of power.

The President elect was not my first choice. He wasn't my second choice either. Or third or 20th. But Obama is the President elect. He will be my President for the next four years.

This is an Historic moment in our Nation. I heard Juan Williams state "What an excellent role model for the young black community. As opposed to gangster rappers. Obama is educated, married and has 2 daughters, he dresses like a normal person and is successful." And this is true.

Having our First Black President in this nations history should disspell the myth that we are an overwhelmingly racist nation. This also goes to prove once again that anyone can grow up to be President in our fine country. If you do not succeed in this nation, it is because you chose not too. That is not to say that everyone who works at it will be rich and famous, but everyone has the ability to carve out a nice little niche for themselves.

We as Americans are promised the God given inalienable Rights of Life, Liberty and the Persuit of Happiness. How we chose to persue that is us to us as individuals.

I urge you all to keep in mind that "A government big enough to give you everything you want is a government big enough to take everything you have." ~ atrributed to numerous speakers.

Update: Onion headline 'Black Man Given Nation's Worst Job'

Didja Vote Yet?

***Today is another November two-for-one special. 2 posts, 1 day, 0 laughs.***



At the last minute I had a CHANGE of heart and voted for Barack Obama.

Ah, just kidding, almost had ya there didn't I?
No, I am not an Obama Girl.
I voted for NukeDad! He's right on foreign policy, the economy, he's right on the bailout.
Can't wait to see his acceptance speech! I'm gonna stay up late for that.

This Is A Complement, Right?

Yesterday I received this award from Melisa @ Suburban Scrawl. I'm going to take this as a special honor. Of Course it comes attached to a meme. It almost feels like that email in your in-box titled "You have won a $500 gift card" only to find out you have to complete a 2 hour survey and sign up for at least 3 of the special offers from their sponsors. Well here goes. Seven weird things about me:

1. I wake up by 5am. I don't have to, I just do. I don't even want to. I just wake up and that's it. So I start my day peaceful and quiet with coffee and my favorite blogs.
2. I do not eat mayonnaise (I may have used this one before, so what). I find it way too disgusting. Even thinking about it too long will make me start to gag.
3. I do not eat mashed potatoes. Yes, this trait seems inhuman to most. I hate them and I gag when I try to eat them. I want to like them. Especially with shredded cheese and bacon sprinkled on top. They look good, that is until the cross over these teeth.
4. I have a sock hang-up. My feet are always cold and I have to wear very warm, cozy, thick and seamless socks. My favorite are lambs wool, cold weather extreme hiking socks. The kind that you buy at an outdoorsman store. I wear them every day usually from October through April.
5. I view my Birthday(and yours too) like a national holiday. I even get my hair done and wear a tiara all day(I may have used this before too).
6. I hate clothes shopping. I hate trying stuff on. It's just a pain in my...... , needless to say I am not an expensive woman to keep.
7. I love to watch TV shows about anything weird. Paranormal, ghosts, Dennis Kucinich, aliens, UFO's, conspiracy theories. It's all just so.....weird and neat and creepy.

Now I am supposed to pass this on to 7 others. But instead of twisting your arm into a meme I am going to let you just take it if you want it and link back to me so I can read your weird list too!

Who Would Like To Soil Themselves?

Bad Momma has posted her 2nd and final installment of the Adventures of Bad Momma and Flat Weasel Momma. There are new pictures to see (and see them you must) and more tales to tell.

When I saw the newest post this morning, I almost spewed coffee out of my nose.

Bad Momma Is one funny, and creative and sadistic lady She even had her boys play the piano for me. during what I am sure was a nasty bout of the glug-glug flu.

She is one heck of a hostess and had all the amenities ready for me that I would expect of a Barbie Dream House four star hotel.

Her boys are darling and not only fine up and coming pianists, but mini Barista's too! They make one mean latte. I taught them how to 'Irish it up' while Bad Momma was at work.

Thanks Bad Momma for such a great time. I hope to repay the hospitality some say soon.

Next, Flat WeaselMomma is on her way to the lab with the Microbiologist.
If you want your blog to be a stop on Flat WeaselMomma's 2008 World Tour, just say so in the comments.

Nobody Around Here Understands Me

Today is a two-for ladies and gentleman. That's right! Here at World of Weasels, TODAY ONLY, our special is Two Posts, 1 Day, 0 laughs!

I was surfing the blogs, checking the stats and Smallest Weasel came to cuddle up with me. Boy Weasel was walking past and I thought I would tell him about the Flat WeaselMomma project and show him the pictures of Flat WeaselMomma trick or treating with BadMomma. I thought he, if anybody, would appreciate the concept. He feigned interest for about 2.3 seconds( less than 2 photos ), looked at me funny and said "That's nice Mom, but I have stuff to do" in the most patronizing way a 12 year old can.

I'm okay with this. I still have Smallest Weasel, who loves to look at pictures.
Me: Who's that? (pointing at Flat WeaselMomma)
SW: That's you!
Me: yup, see this lady(BadMomma)? I went trick or treating at her house.
SW: Was that when you were a kid?
Me: No, it was last night.
SW: ( looks at me funny ) does she live in our neighborhood?
Me: No, I didn't go to her house for real. That's just my picture. I sent it in the mail. I am just pretending to visit her. And last night I got to go trick or treating with her. I even had a costume. And I got to have a Kit Kat. Isn't that funny?
SW: (as dead pan as the best straight man comedy has ever seen) Um, Mom. That's not funny.

Perplexed, she looked at me and said, "Mom, why are you laughing?"

If you would like to host Flat WeaselMomma and blog about it (but are not yet on the list), just let me know in the comments.

Don't Hold Your Breath

....waiting to see this skit on Saturday Night Live tonight, but I think it would be a riot.

Halloween With Barack Obama:
scene: Obama has organized a free party at the local community center for after children have finished trick or treating.

At the door he greets the kids along with Dick Durbin and Nancy Pelosi and starts to look inside the pillow cases at their haul of candy.

Then he informs the kids that they may keep 30% of the candy they have collected and he will be taking the rest. The kids start to resist, so Durbin holds them from behind as Pelosi takes the bag.

All the while Obama explains to the kids that we will all do better if he spreads the candy around. You know for the kids who didn't go trick or treating: The kids who were grounded, the kids who are too cool to wear a costume, or just don't feel like going out when the temperature falls below 60 f. This way everybody gets candy.

A little boy starts to protest "My brother is sick and I was going to share my candy with him. I walked for 3 hours in the cold and had practiced my good manners to get this candy." Obama replies "I will give candy to your brother too. But I can make sure the candy gets better distributed. All he has to do is come wait in line with all the non trick or treating kids and we will give him a coupon for an amount of candy I deem to be appropriate.

The boy throws a crying fit, kicks Obama in the shin and is carried out, sans candy, by the secret service.

Now that would be funny!

In other news:
Flat Weasel Momma is visiting BadMomma after a stint with BusyDad( She must have been a real handful while there because BusyDad still hasn't been able to talk about it). But last night she went trick or treating, in costume with the BadMomma gang. Pics and everything are up, so go check it out.