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That Beaver kid and his fever stuff

Posted on August 25, 2010 by ThePeachy1 in It's Juicy

I have been spared from the Beaver fever.  It’s apparently worse than the swine flu combined with e coli and a touch of syphilis dementia thrown in for that special dash of insanity blend.

Here’s the deal, I have figured out that this Beaver kid has obviously used some type of mass hypnosis,( allegedly),  similar to that sparkly vampire stalker crap making grown women want to swoon over a pasty fictional entity.

I am sure they are either putting this insanity stuff in tampons or the public water systems. It’s even making even some of my dear friends nearly wiggidy whack, get on my short list of people I need to get POA on,  act a bit odd. I am sad because if they start to turn into zombies I will have to off them with a double tap and I really do like my friends.   But I am thinking this is similar to mad cow which we all know is just a thin line from zombie status.

I couldn’t find the remote and was forced like a POW lucky enough to catch an interview with little Justank Beaver.

I have a couple conclusions, in addition to his ability to make nearly anyone with a uterus or drinks public water scream like they lit their own hair on fire,  and he’s probably the anti christ, and he’s spoiled out  of this world and should be diced, chopped and ground up  by a product from Billy Mays. He might want to try an exercise in humility, because the only thing worse than a self righteous, all powerful, money having spoiled teen, is the years we have to watch them crash and burn and hit rehab and or optional jail.

Here’s another conclusion and probably the most profound one.

I am positive, pretty darn sure, think he is might be the illegitimate love child of Donnie Osmand.

Here’s why.

justin bieber is probably donny osmonds love child. allegedly

Spooky? yeah I know. Check out the PURPLE on Justin

Remember Donny’s socks?  ( if you don’t your too young and therefore you should be out partying not reading my old lady who remembers Donny Osmond’s socks were ALWAYS PURPLE  blog.)

Is this just a coincidence?  That some obscure kid has just been “discovered and propelled into modern famedom.  Even though he sounds like he belongs in the Vienna Boys Choir unless he has that Magical Mr. Microphone (we all had or wanted)  altering his voice like HAL.

Is it just a coincidence he is the spitting image of Donny Osmond?   Is it  merely a fantastical shot that made them look alike and Justin wearing purple?

NO.

donny osmond and justin bieber, that beaver kid

Again with the purple.

So we know that due to The Osmonds religion they are to have huge families and in wedlock.  But we all know Donny had to be a player.  So I am thinking that he used his left over money from his Donny and Marie Show to pay musicians with street cred  to promote his un recognized secret son.  Then through some voodoo hex, people were disillusioned enough to think he had talent or appeal. My kids weren’t allowed to take opposite sex phone calls at his age, let alone get on stage and sing about love. Dangerous People. I tell you “By the pricking of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes.”

I write this wearing my tin foil hat , asbestos pajamas and  drinking my artesian well water.  Yeah I am definitely safe. Probably.   The Question here is, are you?

XO

PEACH OUT

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donny bieber, donny osmond, justin beaver, justin bieber, justin osmond, public water, purple socks, spoiled kid stars, the beaver kid, tin foil hats, well groomed beaver 27 Comments Read More

The Non Advice Column for Tell it Tuesday

Posted on August 24, 2010 by ThePeachy1 in Peachy Advice

Please be advised that I have NO expertise ( despite what the massive spam on my site that I block says). Except I remain in the top listing in google for the search term ” epic asshattedness” NOT MAKING THIS UP. Google it, I have been 3 and 4 for over 2 months. So proud.  So if you send in your question, which you’re totally welcome to do,  to beingpeachy@gmail.com, PULEEZE for the love of baby cheeses know that your advice is coming from someone who is known for “epic asshattedness”.

Dear Peachy:

My husband has a great job he loves and it’s pretty secure.  However we are always broke.  Stretching dollars to cover the bills. I am thinking of going back to work but when you factor in daycare, gas, clothing, it seems like I will be working just to cover the cost of working.  I know the economy is hard everywhere so I am sure a lot of people are in this situation.

signed,

Broke and clueless

Dear Broke and Clueless-  yes sadly this is a common issue. I think just about everyone is hurting right now.   I myself have been collecting the silly bandz my son comes home from school with because I think this will be the new currency.   Just yesterday I announced an up and coming auction I plan to have where we will sell shedded dog hair and silly bandz.  But then today I was filled with extreme happy when I found this.  Yes you can create a coupon for you or your loved ones, or your enemies to sell their organs, souls and a variety of other things.   I was thinking I might even put a kidney up. Someone suggested liver but honestly I can’t see me getting bluebook on that liver of mine, it’s got a ton of mileage. xo ThePeachy1

coupon for ThePeachy1's soul, only slightly used

I wonder if I can put these on Craigs list?

***************************************************************************

Peach

My facebook friends suck.  My entier family got onit  and I have to toler8 my emo cousins,  my creepy uncles, and even my mom and dad.  They embares me so much by correcting my spelling or telling me and my friends to watch my mouth.  I can’t block all of them they would make my life a living hell.  But facebook was fun, now it’s like kissing your grndma on the cheek at prom.

Thanks,

There sucking my lifeforce.

Dear THEY’RE sucking my life force (they’re not there)  ( I am no spelling or grammatical genius) but damn it you really should be a little grateful that they still love and acknowledge you.  Because you are uhm how should I put this…  an idiot.  That’s the nicest thing I can say here. When you write to complain about people correcting you at least try to write as if you don’t need correction.  As far as your potty mouth, well I am guessing your a kid, and if you are, suck it up turd brain,  you’re not paying for that computer or that internet access.  It’s not your right, it’s a privilege. If you’re an adult,  please don’t breed.  ThePeachy1

kid in dunce cap writing I will be good on the chalk board

be good, or you get the dunce cap

****************************************************************

Oh wise Peachy1,

I adore your blog and think you are amazing.  So where else to go with my problem.     My daughter started high school today.  I have put it off and put it off, but I am not sure when we should have “the talk”.  And I don’t want to scare her to death like my mom did me with a ton of books from the library.  Do you think I can put it off another year or 2 and what approach should I take.

Sincerely,

Scared of the talk.

Dear Scared of the talk.   The good and bad news here is, she probably already knows more than you.  Remember with teens access to the internet, nearly uncensored TV, and open discussion of this in schools and with friends,  there is probably little you can say she hasn’t heard. Also warn her about pictures and sexting, that’s something new that should be included in the old fashioned talk.  Good luck  xoxo ThePeachy1

( PS- due to your giving me compliments in your question you get bonus points and I sent you an email with actual advice, sort of)


Probably shouldn’t use this video from the 50’s because they call it a curse, and talk about getting a cold from swimming while you are “mensteration” ( yeah that’s how they are pronouncing it.   Your call. Just sayin’

**********************************************************************

And that wraps up this weeks non advice column.    probably nothing useful, but you asked.

PEACH OUT.

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2 income families, epic asshattedness, family ruining facebook, going back to work, high school, parenting, selling your organs, teenagers, the talk, ungrateful kids, working moms 14 Comments Read More

Moronic Monday- Canada doesn’t want me

Posted on August 23, 2010 by ThePeachy1 in Moronic Mondays

So today is Monday. Me and Monday have a long history of not getting along, in fact I am pretty sure Mondays have been out to kill me for decades, yet every week I fight the good fight and try to kick Monday in the junk.   You may have noticed a hint during me burning down my house, or when I got viciously attacked by fire ants, or  any of my other daily fun adventures.

This one is super cool it involves me breaking international laws and furthering the stereo type of dumb Americans, particularly from the south.

The setting. My mom and Grandparents moved from Florida to Michigan and my Grandfather had passed away. I know old people are supposed to move TO Florida not From it. Don’t ask that is an entire different post. About a year later I drove all my kids up to Michigan. I wanted them to see where I had went to elementary school and visit “that” side of my family.  So we do.

They are shocked to find out I walked blocks, crossed train tracks and a freakin raging dam on my way to elementary school.  I was also shocked, the miracle I survived the Slo Gin fiz drinking style of parenting my mother was probably the explanation for why my luck is so shitty now. I used it all up just surviving childhood.

That day, I totally owned her.   I took her along with my minions to the Dam Park, where we drove my  mother insane.  See my kids were around 13, 11 and 1.  I pulled into the park and my daughter immediately caught the pun. I said ” kids this is the dam park”. My mom lost her shit, my daughter said, “can we play on the dam swings”, My mom lost her shit again.  It went on with the Dam sidewalk, the dam parking lot, dam water, dam birds, damn teeter totter,  the dam bushes and so on and eventually even the 11 year old chimed in( he may have issues but he aint stupid). So after we had tortured my mom enough we went to our Dam parking space and got in the car and left the Dam park. I think my mom lost her shit enough to qualify as a spokes person for Alli that day.

We went back to my mom’s and went through Grandads stuff. I didn’t want his money or bonds, I wanted the things that meant “him”.  So I got a sword from his Calvary days,  and some carpentry tools..  Now if your not familiar with real carpentry some of these tools look like torture devices used in the movie ” Saw” but to me they were just tools, his tools.   We continued our visit. Saw the sites.  There aren’t many sights in Alma Michigan.

So we are all driving around and I come up with this dumb ass, brilliant idea to take the kids to Canada. I remember going thru the Sault St Marie locks as a child and thought wow this will be a neat learning experience.  So we get on the highway and go to Canada. No big deal.

It was awesome.  We went to a store and bought stuff, we talked about their money being loonies, instead of dollars.  We fed Canadian geese, it was just a full on neato educational kind of day.  Then I get on the main strip to head back to the states and it hits me.  I realize I have no way to prove my kids are american citizens. Not one kid has ID, I don’t carry their birth certificates, and they are too young to drive.  Then my gut got in a tighter knot. I realized HOE- LEE SHITTARDS.

I have weapons in my car.   Now this may or may not be a big deal. But it was right after 911.  So there were all kinds of crazy customs body cavity searches going on and here I was with 3 kids with no documents, a sword and ax and other miscellaneous killing objects in my car, and oh yeah my gun, cause I don’t go anywhere with out my 45. ( yeah that’s right I pack heat, don’t judge me, I drive across country with 3 little kids, and I will shoot somebody)  So my brain is going in 500 directions and my pulse is racing, my sphincter is tightening.  I consider the option of a hotel and having the DH mail me documentation on the kids but what to do with the weapons?  The weapons they didn’t even check me for getting INTO the damn country but I knew I would get arrested trying to bring back in.  Not an option. My husband had told me not to lose any of the kids on the trip.  Whoops.  Sorry honey, I lost all 3 and I am in prison can you come get me. No that’s not an option.

Then like a beaming bright cartoon light bulb over my head the solution passed me at a stop light.  The OPP.  No not the “are you down with OPP yeah you know me” OPP, but the Ontario Provincial Police, OPP.

So like the truly whacked out mom I am. I blow through a red light and start flashing my headlights at him.  Why you ask.  I needed the cops.   You may not see the grand scheme here but my brain works on a different wave length then the average bear. It has to, for survival purposes.   My older kids are all like, “MOM WHAT ARE YOU DOING”…   I say all calm and June Cleaver like, ” Look kids it’s a real Canadian Policeman, wouldn’t it be so cool to meet him and like take a picture? ”   Are you following my train of thought yet?  The kids weren’t either it’s ok.

I tell the kids, it’s very important as soon as he pulls over they bail out of the car and run up and hug him, close, yes, hug the stranger in the foreign country policeman as soon as we get his WTF is he not writing me a ticket ass over roll to a stop. So after tailing this cop and honking and flashing my headlights and blowing through red lights and stop signs He finally pulls over.  My kids follow the plan perfectly the rush him like they saw a short line at Disney, as I snatched the baby out of his car seat and thrust him into the arms of the Canadian Cop.  I  grabbed my old fashioned film style camera and began fake clicking away. ( I had used all the film taking out of focus pictures of them feeding the damn Canadian Geese)

out of focus canadian geese

OH wow kids out of focus geese... LOOK !

Now to all of you reading along this may or may not sound like I have flipped out and finally went over the edge.  And you may or may not be correct. But as usual there was a method to my madness.  As the OH SO SHOCKED cop is standing there with my kids clinging on him holding my toddler and all of them totally hamming it up for the camera. I began saying utterly insane touristy stuff.

” Kids, go ahead and  ask him if he is a real Mounty, you know like Dudley Do-Right”( gratuitous mention of another Brendan Frasier film).  Yes I went there, and yes I made my children be the pawns they were destined to be the second that egg attached to the wall of my uterus.   The Officer looked confused and agitated and I believe he may have rolled his eyes a few thousand times a couple times.  We laid on the dumb American as thick as we could. And I even made the kids show him the new ” Loonies” they had gotten and they asked all sorts of dumb touristy questions that were way below his paygrade as I fictitiously snapped a thousand pictures with the camera with no film.

When I felt we were balanced perfectly on that fine line before getting placed in the Canadian nut hut and assuring him we were clearly dumb American Tourist. I said officer I have a weird question for you.  I took my baby and placed him back in his car seat.  And shooed the other two into their designated seats.

“Can you tell we are American Tourists?”  I ask.   He nods so fast I think he could have given himself a concussion.  So I start, ” well we were just visiting family in Michigan and I wanted the kids to see your lovely country and I sort of just drove here un prepared.  Now I am confused because I didn’t bring any proof they are mine to get them back in the country.”  Cut to the kids fighting WWF style in the car while screaming , ” Mom he’s touching me” , “MOM I am gonna kill her for breathing my air”.

Me, ” Officer can you tell they are my kids”… He again nods with profound clarity that no one would ever try to steal these kids.   He explained very nicely that the older 2 could probably get me through customs because they would be asked questions about the family and where we lived and other things and in turn it would end up verifying the baby and we would probably get through after a few hours and blah blah blah…

See my brain shut down when the entire  fate of  getting all my darling children back in the States hinged  on “the older 2”.  My daughter was around 13 and would have jumped at the chance to explain to customs that the 11 year old brother was actually an international spy with Wolverine like Adamantium bone grafts in hopes he would not make it past customs.  And well the 11 year old could not be counted on because of the Autism / Aspergers thing he was likely to tell them some fantastical story about being from another planet, or that he had no clue who we were.   I had to take the next precarious step in my ” hey cop look how stupid I am adventure”.

I said, “well you see there is something else and  clearly I wasn’t thinking about it, but we just settled my grandfathers estate, that’s why we were in Michigan to begin with cause we live in Florida have you been to Florida it’s lovely really is , if you ever come to the States you have to visit Florida.”  {breathe}  “Anyway my Grandfather was awesome, he was a master carpenter built houses, barns, cabinets and just about anything, it was would it was like art, seriously you should see his stuff it’s so awesome,  if you go to Alama Michigan you can see tons of his work {breathe} .  It’s working, he’s nodding along my systematic wearing down of his brain by submersion into my life story in 2 minutes along with my ninja like photo op children he is ready to hear anything.    So I open the back of my van.  He looks in. I said, ” See this was his sword from his days in the Calvary and this is his wood tools and his ax and I didn’t think about it when we came into your country but I think these might be considered weapons and I am all freaked out between the kids and the weapons I may not get through.” {breathe}.

“OH yeah, and I totally have a loaded 45 in a lock box under the front seat.”

He wipes either sweat or tears from his eyes.  I couldn’t tell by his boiling red face that was crinkled like he had just been forced to suck a lemon if he was about to taser me or trying to not piss himself laughing. He pauses less than 1 second.

He  grabs a pad out of his pocket, removes the pen from his uniform pocket, all my vital organs shut down.  He’s writing?  This is better than the entire draggin me off to jail thing right? I mean a ticket I can deal with a ticket, I deserve a ticket I blew through all those stop signs and flagged him over.  Do you get a ticket for being a dumb ass?  Is it a misdemeanor or a felony.  I could see my self in a Canadian Court being charged with felony dumbassery.

woman in the courtroom

Yes your Honor I am a dumb ass, but I don't think I am a Felonious Dumb Ass.

He hands me the slip, without saying a word.  My knees are trembling and there’s this pain in my gut, probably because my heart has stopped pushing blood to my vital organs.

He had given me directions to go down along some oil fields and catch a ferry where I wont get stopped.  He also makes me promise to just go ahead and leave.  As in LEAVE HIS COUNTRY.

That’s the condition?  Leave Canada ASAP?  Dude we are totally on the same wave length here.  I did. I followed those carefully written directions  on which he even included an artistic map so a dummy like me wouldn’t get lost. Or maybe he thought I couldn’t read Canadian ( dude I know it’s English just like we write here it’s a friggin joke, seriously, maybe. ). I don’t know the point is he wasn’t taking any chances of me NOT getting out of his Country and it worked, and I was out of there.

So apparently if you prove your a big enough stereotyping american butt head tourist and give the background on the weapons your toting, and your kids act like they are escaped criminals that would make Hannibal Lector curl up in a ball and rock back and forth.  The law will be on your side.  Oh yeah and they will ask you to go ahead and leave their country too..

So there’s your travel tip for the day, or you could just go ahead and bring proof that your kids are yours and american and leave the weapons at home… totally your call..

PEACH OUT

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being an idiot. moronic monday, being peachy, border, canada, customes, fail, kids, parenting, thepeachy, traveling with kids 6 Comments Read More
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