Mom – "This. Is. Not. Good." #
The grandparents attempt to wear Paul out… http://t.co/HFVY9AUk #
"Tell the ones that need to know – we are headed North." But unlike the song, I'm smuggling a dozen Bojangles biscuits in the trunk. #
It's way too early in the morning for Rocco to be coaching Mom on masturbation as a [...]
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Unless ukes have thorns. One of those things. Currently both my ukes are covered in vomit. Hence this fast, sloppy video. ….and SCENE. May your VD not involve you contracting any new VDs. Next year I’ll buy you something shiny. Probably. And as [...] Just stood by while Dad explained to the optician that "The best thing for cleaning eyeglasses is white cotton underpants." # Paul has decided we won’t be recording a new ukulele video today. He decided that at one am this morning and has been reminding me with a determination that is rather daunting. So you get an old video instead. But it tee-otally meets our VD criteria. Now if you”ll excuse me, I”m off to shove my tits in [...] You may have already seen this, Interwebz. But I’ve watched it at least seven times and it still slays me. So I can’t risk you missing it. Thusly *said with a thick lisp*….
Me: "I need another song." Rocco: "Did you do Karl Marx yet?" Me: "You mean Richard?" Rocco: "Whatever." # Phew. What a week. But it’s Friday. And I have a wine opener. I’m not afraid to use it. But first, here’s Installment Three of Uber Cheesy 80′s Love Songs Massacred on Herbert for VD Awareness. Or something.
Cutting out dairy is surprisingly easy…when you replace it with bacon and french fries. # This is what happens when I don’t get my shit together and record the video the night before. But a gal can’t waste a chance to uke a cheesy 80′s love song, can she? Shout out to Joules for reading my mind and giving me the confirmation that this counts as a VD song. Heh. Nothing says [...] Apparently it’s going to take me more than three months to not squirm at the “m word.” And no, I don’t mean moist. So. I’ve been a…*cough*…a mo…*swallow*…a moth…*cough, cough*…a mothe…*ahem*…a MOTHER (there I said it!) for three months. Three months. THREE. MONTHS. (Hey, Jenny Slater.) Also? Please don’t expect me to call Rocco “Dad.” “Dad” lives in [...] |
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