Boxelder Bugs Must Die!

Posted on April 13, 2012 by funnygurl2

Ugly little sucker.

I never really had Boxelder Bugs anywhere I had lived, until I moved into my house. I was told you only have them when there is a Boxelder tree nearby. As far as I know, we only have Walnut and Maple and Pine trees near us. Maybe a better name for them would be aluminum siding bugs, since that is where they love to hang out at my house.

I find Boxelder Bugs totally gross. But I was willing to only kill the ones that made it into the house. It is convenient that my dogs will eat them as “treats”. But then came the bad year. The Boxelder Bugs filled up my hard in big piles. I wanted to spray them with nice, poisonous bug spray. But my husband said that would kill the grass. I should never have listened to him. (Sorry Honey, but I think the grubs are doing in your grass faster than my bug spray would have.)

Mating. All over my porch.


So, I let them live that day. Then they started coating my house. They fornicated all over my porch. They laid their nasty little gold eggs all over my house siding and chain-link fence. I was overrun and distraught and disgusted by their very existence. I complained to everyone I knew. Finally, someone told me the secret. The wonderful murderous secret I use to my advantage to this day.

Dawn dish soap.

Yup. The same dish soap you buy at Meijer. The one that has pictures of cute little penguins on it and claims to help save wildlife. Dawn dish soap has been responsible for the murder of thousands of Boxelder Bugs at my house. I fill up the weed sprayer with a small amount of Dawn and lots of water. And I suffocate the hell out of those mother fuckers.

It took a lot of time and determination that year, but I did get the Boxelder Bugs under control. The mistake was letting them lay eggs, because Dawn doesn’t work on the eggs. The only way to kill the eggs is to smush them. They are small, so sometimes they just fall off too. Your best bet is to spray them when they are tiny little hatchlings with only fur for legs.

Threesome.


This year looks to be almost as bad, with our easy winter and early summer temperatures. But I saw them outside my window mating. So promiscuous. I grabbed my weed sprayer and went to town on them. Oh yes. My husband has an old ice shanty he leaves sitting by the driveway, against the house. And his toolbox for his truck. And they live there. I should move those obstacles, because I bet there are just red nests teaming with colonies of Boxelder Bugs under there. I have to be sure to spray not only the side of the house, but also the front and then the back, as the sun moves throughout the day. It will take a few weeks of daily spraying, but then they will be knocked down for summer.

I wish I had a hazmat suit to wear when I spray. After years of seeing their numbers decimated, they are starting to fight back. I can’t stand those THINGS landing on me. On my legs, arms, in my hair. One even landed on my glasses-ick! I come back into the house and can’t even enjoy a job well done because I feel as though they are crawling all over me. I am all buggy.

Some PETA person might think what I do is awful. It is the same policy I have against bats, birds, squirrels (don’t get me started)—all creatures. They can live wherever they want, but not in/on my house. No freeloaders. And nothing with wings or feathers or creepy crawlie attributes.

Did I mention the live ones eat the other dead Boxelder Bugs. They are CANNIBALS! You know why they have red markings, don’t you?

They were created by the devil.

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Support for “Mom Jeans”

Posted on April 11, 2012 by funnygurl2

I support Mom Jeans. I have since before they were called Mom Jeans. Everyone agrees that male youth look stupid wearing jeans so large they have to hold them up to walk down the sidewalk (except, apparently, male youth). So how come no one can see that girls wearing jeans that show off their butt crack is stupid and repulsive?

I own a few low-rise jeans because there wasn’t any other style available to buy at the time. I want my jeans to be comfortable. If the waist is pushing in on the middle of my gut, that is neither comfortable nor attractive. I don’t find the draft between the low rise jeans and the high rise shirts comfortable either. And we all know no matter how tiny your underwear is and how often you tug up the back of your jeans, you are always showing underwear and/or butt crack. I guess young girls like that look to attract guys. Let me tell you, guys attracted by that are not quality guys.

I just went to shop for some new jeans because my favorite old pair is sprouting holes. What were the main things I looked for when searching for a new pair?

CHEAP: I’m unemployed. And I don’t believe in spending a lot on clothes. They are all the same shitty quality and made in foreign lands, no matter how much you pay.

PETITE: I am sick of walking on my too-long pant legs when I run around the house in my socks.

HIGH WAIST: I don’t want my underwear showing and I don’t want a backdraft.

SMALLER SIZE: Since I had a baby, all my jeans are too big. I bought a belt to hold them up. The belt is also too big. I want to be able to play with my toddler on the floor at library playtime without my pants feeling like they are going to fall off.

STRAIGHT LEG: I am a traditionalist.

What did I NOT look for when shopping for jeans?

Designer labels
Ultra-low rise
Flare leg

I have been waiting for like 10 years for the “fashion industry” to come to their senses and at least sell high-rise and low-rise jeans next to each other on the shelves. After all, as much as you think your grandma is out of fashion, do you really want her to come visit in low-rise jeans? With her Depends sticking over the top? I think not.

I’m not stalking you. is NOW ON FACEBOOK! “Like” that I’m not stalking you and get an update when there is a new post to read. (It is sort of like YOU are stalking ME.)

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Happy 1st Birthday I’m not stalking you.

Posted on April 8, 2012 by funnygurl2

I can’t believe I have had my own personal blog for a year now. I dreamed I would have more followers by now, but I have more followers than I really thought I would have. So why hasn’t anyone offered me a million dollars and a book deal yet? Hmmm. Must be the public at large doesn’t find my posts about Punky Brewster, Mom rants, and my dogs interesting enough to follow me. You know what? I am not going to write about better topics, so for all of you who follow this blog, YOU ARE SCREWED!:)

In the last year, I lost my job, job-hunted furiously, supported my husband as he changed careers, and sat with my son through the same major surgery–twice. I feel like 2012 will hold better things for my family this year. I HAVE to tell myself that.

I am glad I have my blog, because I hope that it keeps my writing skills from getting too rusty. On my resume, I do tout my great writing and proof-reading skills. Plus, at my core, I consider myself a creative person. My asbestos friend has found an outlet for her creativity by making clothes for her kids and painting vacation bible school sets. My sister-in-law has found hers by sewing felt toys for craft shows and making Ugly Bird (Oh, I mean Angry Bird) cupcakes for her son’s birthday party. Besides, making a Werecart and Christmas stockings, all I really have is this blog.

Made by my SIL. Happy Birthday to me, Happy Birthday to me...


I get more joy out of brainstorming, planning, writing, and publishing this blog than I did from the last three years I was at my job. It makes me feel free, like when I was younger and used to write stories, just because I could. It makes me feel creative, because I can add links, formatting, and pictures to tell my story in the best way. It also makes me feel organized, as I have to pick which posts are timeliest and when they should be posted. I guess that means, in the end, it only matters that I write my blog, and not who may or may not read it.

I’m not stalking you. is NOW ON FACEBOOK! “Like” that I’m not stalking you and get an update when there is a new post to read. (It is sort of like YOU are stalking ME.)

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The Werecart

Posted on April 4, 2012 by funnygurl2

A golf cart Halloween decorating contest. Sounds crazy, right? What if it wasn’t even held in October.

…and that is how the Werecart was born.

The Werecart


My Mother-in-Law has camped for years at a nearby campground. My husband and I would go out occasionally throughout the summer to spend time with her and just relax. She has a camper that she leaves parked there year round. Almost everyone there has a golf cart to speed around the dusty campground on. Riding on the golf cart and watching a campfire are the big entertainment there. And that is what makes it relaxing.

The campground closes in mid-October every year. Fear not, the children still get to celebrate Halloween. They usually hold a Halloween celebration during the summer. (Note: You can’t necessarily just use your costume from last year. A Halloween costume for October in Michigan needs to be warm. In the summer, it does not.) One year the campground announced a golf cart costume contest. It sounded completely insane. And that is how I knew I had to enter.

I pitched my idea to my MIL. She was open to anything I wanted to do. My husband and I made a quick weekday trip to the campground, so that I could take measurements. The campground is very deserted during the week. To measure the angle of the front of the golf cart (very critical to my design), I just folded a piece of paper. I am sure my Geometry and Trigonometry teacher would be very disappointed in me. I only had a week to complete my crazy project. I had to go the next day to JoAnn Etc. and buy a lot of fur. Fur ain’t cheap. Then I laid on my dining room floor for a week, trying to measure my limited amount of fur correctly. The fur was flying. I believe there were a certain amount of frustrated tears. By Saturday, there was more black fur on my floor from my project than from my two actual dogs.

Notice the blood on the fangs!


My husband and I drove out to the campground. It was a rainy, dreary day. I worried whether the pieces would fit properly. I also worried whether the weather would damage the fur. You never want a werewolf to be mistaken for a drowned rat.

It turned out everything fit fine and it was as cute as Hell. It even proved very durable when we test drove it around the campground’s gravel road and over potholes. But due to the rain, the Halloween festivities were delayed till the following weekend. This was a potentially devastating development for us, as now our competition had seen what we were bringing to the table.

My asbestos friend's daughter isn't afraid

Neither is my nephew


The next weekend we saddled up the Werecart again. Strange circumstance number one was that the judging for the golf cart contest was taking place after dark. It is hard to see details, or anything, that way. I had brought a tape player so that the Werecart could even growl while being judged. The winner would get a cash prize. I planned to split it with my MIL, and use my half to recoup materials costs and to buy a weather radio (which I desperately wanted). Strange circumstance number two: I believe the cart that won was just a big box over the top of it, with some windows cut out that had flashing lights and smoke coming out of them. But I have to admit, I don’t really remember who won. I was too busy being mad that we did not. My MIL felt robbed as well. We believe that the judges gave preferential treatment to their friends. We got a $10 prize for honorable mention, I think. I let MIL keep it for bingo money the next day.

The next year there was another cart costume contest. The Werecart emerged from his den to stalk the day. But, when it came time for the contest, he was gone. He doesn’t put himself up for rejection twice. The Werecart knows it rocks. ‘Nuf said.

The End.


I’m not stalking you. is NOW ON FACEBOOK! “Like” that I’m not stalking you and get an update when there is a new post to read. (It is sort of like YOU are stalking ME.)

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You Give Hoodies A Bad Name

Posted on April 1, 2012 by funnygurl2

World English Dictionary
hoodie (ˈhʊdɪ)
— n
1. a hooded sweatshirt
2. a young person who wears a hooded sweatshirt, regarded by some as a potential hooligan
–from Dictionary.com

Hoodies have been in the news a lot lately. This post has really nothing to do with any of that.

When I was little, I had a blue zippered sweatshirt jacket I loved. You know the type, with two pockets and a drawstring for the hood. Many pictures exist with me wearing it. After the blue jacket, I believe I owned a red one. Then a grey one. Then a yellow one. For several years, I didn’t have a sweatshirt jacket, as they were referred to around my house. I don’t even think I realized they made them in adult sizes. Plus, at that time, jean jackets were all that was cool to wear.

Then when I was in high school, I found a red sweatshirt jacket adult-sized at my local Meijer store. I bought it and wore it all the time. It was just like the one I had as a kid, with the drawstring hood, zipper, and two pockets. When I was in college, I had no winter coat. I didn’t have the time or money to get one. But mostly, I probably just thought they were bulky and uncool. So I always layered my denim jacket over my red jacket when it was cold. Yeah, I was cool.

On Saturday Night Live, Adam Sandler sang a song called “Red Hooded Sweatshirt”. I totally felt he was singing about MY red hooded sweatshirt. I loved that song, although it never became as popular as say “Lunch Lady Land” or “The Chanukah Song”. The highlight of the SNL performance is the reaction by Adam Sandler to Sir Paul McCartney’s cameo.

I only had that one hooded sweatshirt for many years. After all, you only need one, right? Then I started a new job and met a crazy girl with green hair. (Of course she was crazy, she became friends with me, right?) She had a hooded sweatshirt for every day of the week, and then some. That is the first time I ever heard anyone use the term “hoodie”. I had to admit, it was kind of catchy. And I totally blame the green-haired girl for badly influencing me to increase my hoodie collection exponentially. I should probably also blame my employer at the time for keeping the building so cold that people had to run heaters under their desks to keep warm. And for a casual dress code.

The purchase of my favorite hoodie was the result of bad planning. My mom, soon-to-be-husband, and I went to Put-in-Bay, Ohio for the day. As it was summer, I didn’t take a jacket, completely forgetting that land surrounded by water (a.k.a. islands) are cooler than the mainland. So I found a totally overpriced hoodie in a souvenir shop and bought it. I thought I would wear it that day and never again. But, I have found, that sometimes impulse purchases are the best ones. (Or the worst ones, but I digress…) It is a beautiful sort of dark rose color. It has two snaps at the neck, which thank God, have never triggered my nickel allergy. It is just the right amount of too big for maximum comfort. It has a pouch on it, rather than two individual pockets. Brand new, the inside was super fleecy and warm and fuzzy. My green-haired friend (before she went on Paxil) coined a great term called “cocooning”. It is when you don’t really want to be at work or around anyone and anxiety is eating at you and you just want to hide in a cocoon away from the world. My Put-in-Bay hoodie was perfect for that. Nine years later, it is no longer as fuzzy. And the elastic cuffs on the sleeves started to rot off, so I had to cut them off. But it is still one of my favorites. And I am wearing it right now as I type.

Following Put-in-Bay, one of my favorite hoodies is my black “Spotted Cow” jacket. It was also super fuzzy when I bought it. Not so much anymore. When I wear it, everyone asks me if I work at the Spotted Cow (Uh, no. Duh. Why would they assume that? I just want to stay warm!). And then there was the time I told my friends it would be funny to have a shirt that said “I’m not stalking you.” Because, you know, that is just what someone who is stalking you would say. So I ordered myself a hoodie with that saying on it for my birthday.

I must admit for a while my hoodie addiction was out of control. And I have to control it every day. You never get over hoodie addiction. It is a disease you have to deal with one step at a time. By my estimate, I currently own about 16 hoodies, including one for bedtime. My favorites get worn more than the ones that are not. I must admit, during the summer I miss slipping into a comfy old hoodie. I even had a maternity hoodie when I was pregnant. It was blue. Very similar to the color of my first hoodie I can remember.

I still wear my red hooded sweatshirt, even though it must be around 20 years old now. (Damn, is that right? Time for a new wardrobe.) I know they make me look casual and sloppy and sometimes homeless, but I don’t care. Comfort shall reign supreme in my clothing kingdom. Eat that, What Not To Wear. And if someone shot me just because I was wearing a hoodie, I believe I would die happy:)

I’m not stalking you. is NOW ON FACEBOOK! “Like” that I’m not stalking you and get an update when there is a new post to read. (It is sort of like YOU are stalking ME.)

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