Month: March 2007

3/06/07

Elayne’s blog was down, and then it came back up, and she sent out an email to those of us who are a little more special than the rest of you (pardon me while I preen) letting us know she was back up and running. And I intended to post something here to let y’all know (I know some of you read her as well), but I kept forgetting and kept forgetting until I was looking through my email inbox and found her email from like TWO WEEKS AGO, so here you go: Elayne’s blog is up and running again! Yay! Go say hi!

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My hormones are all whacked to hell and back and I haven’t had a period in.. a while. If I really wanted to know how long it had been I’d drag my calendar out of my purse, but I’m too damn lazy to do that right now, so you’ll have to trust me – it’s been awhile. I’ve been eating like it’s going out of style, my boobs are swollen and I feel all jiggly and wobbly. I know it’s normal to have the hormones all whacked out after losing so much weight in such a short amount of time, but despite the fact that Fred has been neutered (hee!), I still got all worried that I might be pregnant, so bought a pregnancy test yesterday (and tried to hide the fact that the entire reason I was in the grocery store was to buy a damn pregnancy test by buying a bunch of shit I didn’t need) and when I got home I took the pregnancy test, and the pregnancy test looked at me and said “Are you fucking kidding me? You’re the least pregnant woman EVER, stop being a freakin’ spaz!” And I did a little hallelujah dance. I know I need to go to the gynecologist, it’s been two years since my last confession since my last visit, and that is BAD. I know it’s bad, you know it’s bad, don’t lecture me.
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Yesterday, after spending two and a half hours making dinners to get us through the rest of the week (last night, pork chops and mashed sweet potatoes! Tonight, ranch chicken, corn and veggies! Tomorrow, Tex-Mex! Thursday, Pancit! Friday, Taco Beef Skillet! Also, I miscalculated and made jambalaya, so I guess we’re all set for next Monday, too!) and another hour and a half packing (got most of the upstairs done, woot!), I ate lunch and then at 2:40 picked up the phone and called Fred at work. “I’m going upstairs,” I said. “Yeah?” “And I’m taking off my pants,” I said. “Uh huh…” “And I’m climbing into bed,” I said. “Oh realllly….” “And I’m taking a nap, so don’t give me shit!” He laughed. “I thought this was a booty call!” “Well, I DO need to be woken up from my nap so I can warm up dinner,” I said. Did I mention my hormones are all out of whack?
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Okay, I’m off to Smallville to do cleaning and painting. My goal for today is to get the laundry room, kitchen, and hallway cleaned, trim painted, and walls touched up. Keep your fingers crossed that I actually get it all done!
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“Behind you! A serial killer! With a knife! Or maybe there’s nothing there at all! Who knows!”
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Previously 2006: “And they’ll have to call it Wipe the Ass!” 2005: No entry. 2004: No entry. 2003: Want some cats? 2002: I had no idea what to say – “Well, of COURSE you’re only going to date someone you think is cute!”? Then I’m anti-ugly. 2001: Except for that crying at the drop of a hat thing, she’s just fine. 2000: Do y’all ever do that, have moments where the startling realization that you’re a complete dumbass smacks you in the face? ]]>

3/05/07

Check out Donna’s kitties, grooming each other. Sugarbutt and Tom Cullen still love to groom each other like that, though they get too worked up and start fighting about ten seconds in to the lurve session.

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Yes, it was River Phoenix my sister was thinking of at Christmas time. I don’t know why we all have this mental link between River Phoenix and Christian Slater – possibly because they kind of resemble each other. I think they were about the same age, so there’s that, and maybe they ran around with the same crowd. Who knows? I’m just glad I’m not the only one who knew immediately who she was talking about. (Faith, you cracked me up with your Jack Nicholson guess!) Can you believe it’s been 14 years since River Phoenix died?
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Saturday we went to the house early – I’ve been getting up around 6 because Mister Boogers invariably starts acting an ass right on the dot of 6 am for some reason (I call him my “Boogie alarm”) – stopping on the way for breakfast at our favorite little country restaurant. The place where two people can eat a very filling breakfast for about $10. We won’t be going back there anytime soon, I think. Not only was there a roachlike insect on the table when we sat down, there was another one crawling across the floor behind Fred. I managed to put it out of my mind and not think about it while I was eating breakfast, but I don’t know that I’m going to go out of my way to go back there (not that it’s out of the way – it’s only 2 minutes from the Smallville house and we drive by there to get to the house, but you get my point). We worked in the house for about an hour – we moved a bunch of stuff from the house to the shed and the burn pile, then Fred went upstairs and did some caulking in the bathroom and on the stairs* while I started moving stuff out of the dining room so I could clean the walls and paint the trim (I did that in the computer room and half bath on Friday). We left the house a while later and stopped by a carpet store to order a piece of carpet and padding for the spud’s bedroom. Her room is located directly above mine, and she stays up way later than I do, usually. Whatever we can do to muffle the sounds of her moving around in her room, we’re going to do. After the carpet store, we stopped by a lighting store. We were having issues with the bathroom light in the upstairs bathroom (the light over the mirror hangs down too far, so that it’s impossible to open the medicine cabinet, and that’s not acceptable as far as I’m concerned), so talked to a woman at the lighting store, who pointed out that we could turn the light the other way to make it work. We hadn’t even thought of that, so thanked her and left. From there, we went to several different furniture stores to look for a bed. The bed I’m currently sleeping in is just too damn high. I really really hate having to climb into my bed every night, and so we decided that Fred would take my bed, we’d get me a new bed, and we’d get rid of (probably Freecycle) his king-size bed. None of the stores we went into had anything I liked, though they all had beds that Fred liked. I like really simple, straight furniture with clean lines, and he likes the ugliest, most ornate furniture god ever put on this planet. Since we were shopping for me, I got to veto the ugly, ornate stuff. We didn’t find anything we like, so we went back to the house and did some more work. I don’t remember what Fred did – caulked and hung stuff and worked on a door from the spud’s closet to the attic, I think. I finally got the dining room walls wiped down, cleared off the mantel, and cleaned out the fireplace before I painted the trim around the bottom of the room. Once I was done with that, I painted the doors in the computer room (leading to outside), thought about staining the quarter-round we’re putting in the guest bedroom closet and the spud’s closet, couldn’t find the stain, and then we left. We stopped on the way home at one last furniture store, and there I found a sleigh bed that I really like, so we ordered that in the queen-size version (there was another I liked that had drawers underneath it, but it was WAY too expensive) along with a mattess and boxspring. The only issue with the bed is that it might or might not be delivered before we move my stuff into the house, so I might be sleeping on the couch for a few nights. We’ll see how THAT goes. It’s funny – Fred said “I feel like I accomplished a lot today!” and I said “I feel like I accomplished NOTHING!” At Lowe’s, we were in the parking lot and Fred said “Oh look, it’s Guy.” Guy used to work for Fred’s company when I worked there (for those of you new to the Bitchypoo chronicles, I was the office manager for Fred’s company for several years, then quit to fulfill my lifelong dream of sitting on my ass. It’s worked out well for me.), and I haaaaaaaated him. I found him a pompous know-it-all pain in the ass and was thrilled to never have to deal with him again. Anyway. I said, “Guy?” And Fred said “Yeah, who used to work for us?” “Oh, HIM,” I said. I looked him over as he took his kid’s hand and headed for the store. “He’s lost a lot of hair, huh?” “Yeah,” Fred said. Then Guy turned so his back was to us, and I said “Wow. He’s lost a LOT of hair.” “Yeah, it’s really fleein’ the interview,” Fred said. Just as I started laughing, Guy turned around, saw Fred, and waved. Fred waved back. I just sat and looked like a snooty bitch BECAUSE I CAN. *This led to many hilarious moments ie, “Your caulk is getting all over the stairs!”, “Your caulk is dribbling all over the stairs!” and “I like to fill up cracks with my caulk.”
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We got out to Smallville around 8 on Sunday, and set immediately to work. After three hours of wiping down walls and baseboards, puttying, and painting trim, I stomped downstairs to the laundry room (where the only comfortable piece of furniture (a recliner) is located) and slurped down a bottle of water while fuming. Then I dragged Fred out to the front porch (it’s our “thing” when one or the other of us is tired of doing whatever we’re doing, or at a stopping point, to declare “Let’s take five!” and sit on the front porch in the rocking chairs and talk or just watch the traffic go by) and said “It’s 11:21 and I am officially BURNT OUT!” He tried to point out that we were so close to being done and I said “I don’t care! I’m tired of it! I don’t want to putty or caulk or paint! I don’t want to scrub floors or walls or baseboards! I don’t want to carry shit out of the house and empty the garbage can twice a day! I don’t want to paint! I want to just sit around and do nothing AND I AM NEVER GOING TO BE ABLE TO DO THAT AGAIN!” “It’s almost over,” he pointed out. “IT WILL NEVER BE OVER!” I bellowed. Then I threw a little more of a hissy fit, and I felt better. I finished painting the trim in the spud’s bedroom, puttied the holes in the upstairs bathroom, then we hung the door in the downstairs bathroom and Fred hung blinds in the spud’s bedroom while I transplanted sugar snap peas from the little bitty containers the seeds were planted in, to slightly bigger peat pots (everything we’ve planted is growing, but the sugar snap peas are growing like mad), vacuumed, Swiffered, and mopped the floor in the spud’s bedroom, and then got on my hands and knees with cleaning rags and sprayed and wiped down every inch of the spud’s bedroom floor. Rooms that are now completely done (except for curtains): The half bath (except for the cap things that need to be put on the screws holding the toilet down), the computer room (though I really need to put another coat of paint on the doors), and the spud’s bedroom. Still to be done: The rest of the fucking house. See what I mean about it never being done? UGH.
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Saturday night, while Fred lolled about in the bathtub reading and singing to the cats** I started packing up the master bedroom. I didn’t get too terribly far – just the bookcase and the stuff in the closet – but may I say that I just have too damn many books? The bookcase in the bedroom holds all the “I haven’t read these yet” books, and I filled up five boxes with books. Today, in and amongst all the cooking I’ll be doing to get us through the rest of the week, I intend to get Fred’s bedroom packed up (we store a lot of stuff in there), along with the rest of the master bedroom, whatever’s in the guest bedroom that needs to go, and probably I’ll toss all the stuff in the foster cat room into a box while I’m at it. Oh yeah, and the hall closet. UGH. **Last weekend I wasn’t feeling well and went upstairs to lay on the bed and take a nap. Fred was in the bathtub and didn’t know I was in the bedroom. He sang to the cats, and sang to the cats, and sang some more. I fell asleep and woke fifteen minutes later, and he was still singing. That musical episode of Scrubs? That’s his fantasy world. He would ADORE living in a world where people sang to each other all the time.
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Sugarbutt does his Popeye impression. He cracks me up when he sits around with one eye open. “Hey! You! GUYYYYYYYYYS!” Such a sweet boy.
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Previously 2006: No entry. 2005: No entry. 2004: You suppose they’d mind if I went over after dark and pressed my face up against the window to see what’s going on? 2003: Maybe I should go for the dreadlocks look… 2002: Any resemblance to persons living or dead are completely coincidental. I don’t fart. 2001: every Mulvaney shat gold upon command three times a day. 2000: Here at casa bitchypoo, we believe in extremely lazy Sundays.]]>

3/2/07

poor kids in Enterprise, but we got nothing but wind and rain here. I hope that’s true in Smallville as well – I’m about to head out there to work and clean all day. Then I think I’ll come home and pack some boxes. Fun!

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Check out this cool link, sent to me by awesome reader Pam. We should totally do that in the foster kitty room once we get it built, dontchathink?
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The other night we were watching TV (Deal or No Deal, our new addiction – Anya is my favorite model, I think she’s just button cute) and I decided that I was a little hungry, so I went and dug through the pantry to see what little snack-type thing I could find to eat. In the very back was a little packet of walnuts, and I decided that would fit the bill quite nicely. So I put them on a little plate (I hate having to dig to the bottom of a little plastic bag to get the remnants of food) and sat down on the couch and resumed watching TV. I tossed several pieces of walnut in my mouth and began chewing. And then Fred laughed and said “What’s that face for?” Since the walnuts had pretty much liquified in my mouth, I had no choice but to swallow. “UGH,” I said. “I think these walnuts are REALLY FUCKING OLD. I think they’ve gone rancid!” “That bad, huh?” “Yes, they’re AWFUL. They taste like my grandmother’s attic*!” Fred guffawed “I thought you were going to say they tasted like your grandmother’s ass.” Needless to say, I tossed the rest of the walnuts in the trash. *Actually, they tasted like my grandmother’s basement smelled. You know that antique store smell? These walnuts tasted exactly like that smell. I like the antique store smell, but the taste leaves a lot to be desired.
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At Christmas time, when I was in Pigeon Forge with my family, my sister and I were watching TV in our bedroom one evening, and I think that some “news” show was on E! I don’t remember what they were talking about, but they said something about Christian Slater. “Christian Slater,” Debbie said. “Isn’t he dead?” “No,” I said. “You’re thinking of ————–.” “That’s right! How the hell did you know who I was thinking of?” she asked, amazed. “I don’t know, I just did!” I said. A few weeks later, I told Fred of the conversation, leaving out the name of the celebrity she’d been thinking of. I asked if he knew who she was thinking of, and he knew immediately. So my question here is, how many of you know which celebrity she was thinking of? Leave a comment if you knew immediately. I’m just curious.
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You’ve got questions! I would also like to know what all the caulk is for. I’m worried that I’m missing out on caulk that I didn’t know I needed. and What exactly are you caulking for all this time? I’ve been caulking at the point where the baseboards and the shoe molding meet. Also, in some places I’ve been caulking the place where the coves and the baseboards meet. In addition to that, I’m caulking the cracks around the doorways and windows. I haven’t even really touched the caulking that needs to be done, but I’ve come to the conclusion that I need to let some of it go, or we won’t be moving into the house for another six months.
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So I guess the Smallville house now has both caulk and balls? Ho ho, it does! ::snicker::
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ok, i am so addicted to the jewelry site!! i’ve already ordered 4 things. not sure how you can go there and NOT order anything Robyn. I adore that jewelry site. I leave the site open all the time, and when something new goes up, there’s a little musical chime sound that plays, and I always click over there as fast as I can. I’ve actually ordered a ring and a pair of earrings (don’t tell Fred!!!!) and am waiting for them to arrive. I have one hell of a time not ordering EVERYTHING, but I really don’t wear that much jewelry, so it would be pointless.
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How long is the commute from one house to the other? 20 minutes from one door to the other, depending on traffic and such.
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So is the lady on the iams multicat food commercial right? She says that “Cats are like potato chips and you can’t have just one.” I think I’d find it easier to eat just one potato chip than to have just one cat. I find it pretty rare that anyone has just one cat; most people who have cats seem to have two or more.
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Why are you moving to Smallville before Fred and Spud? Because we need to get as much furniture as possible – and all the cats – out of the Madison house so we can touch-up paint and recarpet it. We wanted the spud to be able to stay in Madison as long as possible, so she won’t have that drive from Smallville, and the cats and our belongings can’t really stay in Smallville alone. Originally, Fred was going to move to Smallville and the spud and I were going to stay in Madison, but it makes more sense for Fred to stay in Madison, since it’s closer to work for him. On the weekends we’ll probably occasionally switch, with him staying in Smallville and me staying in Madison.
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Can we have a Maddy update? Also, do you think the recipe requiring the tortillas would be just as good with whole wheat tortillas? Maddy’s a hellion who’s making life miserable for everyone she comes into contact with, I hear – Nance puts up pictures of her all the time, you can see them on her site. Probably the recipe requiring the tortillas would be fine with whole wheat tortillas. What I like about that recipe is that the tortillas take on an almost cheesy texture when you cook them.
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I have to admit, I got a little teary-eyed when I read about Joe Bob going off to the pet store to be adopted. Maybe I’m hormonal, I’m not sure. But I really don’t know how you can stand to spend all that time loving on those cats and then let someone else have them. Too bad you can’t get all your readers to adopt your fosters, like Nance and Rick did! It’s hard to give them up, I won’t deny that – but keeping in mind that they will undoubtedly go to a really good home (the adoption counselors for the shelter are very careful about who they allow to adopt the cats) helps a lot. As does the admonition from Fred that if we ever adopt another foster cat we’ll never be able to foster cats again!
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Have you ever used one of the Super Suppers, Let’s Dish or Dream Dinners? There’s a Super Suppers in Huntsville, and I’ve eyeballed their web site many times, but never actually gotten anything from them. Mostly, it’s a lazy thing – I don’t want to drive all the way to Huntsville and pick up the meals. Also, it’s a money thing – it’s far cheaper to do it at home, even if it’s a pain in the ass and takes up most of the day.
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I’m going to miss all the Joe Bob pictures. Has his sister found a home yet? and Did Princess Screecher (Joe Bob’s sister) get adopted? Myrtle hadn’t been adopted as of Monday. I still have hope for her, though – people definitely look at her, and she’s such a sweetheart that I have a feeling she’ll eventually be adopted. Sometimes it just takes time – Fantine was a total sweetheart, but it still took a month before she got adopted.
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‘god willing and the creek don’t rise’…..? Yes, we don’t want the creek to rise because… it would flood out the road and make life difficult? I guess? I don’t know, it’s a saying I picked up somewhere, I don’t question it.
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Are you and Fred gonna give a name to your new home? Kinda like in the old Southern Plantation Tradition? (forgive me, I watched “Gone With The Wind” yesterday and I have “Tara” on the brain….) We’ve considered “Horseshit Alley” (I always said that if I won the lottery, I was going to buy a huge mansion and name it Horseshit Alley to horrify the neighbors), but at this point we haven’t really decided if we’re going to name it. I guess chances are good we’ll just call it “home.”
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When I buy a new house, will you and Fred come to Texas to help me fix it up before I move in? I’ll… um… I’ll… let you take pictures of my kitties! I would be SO TERRIFIED to try to do anything to anyone else’s home, afraid that I’d fuck it up. I’d have to make you sign a contract absolving me of any damage done, I suppose, but hell! Sure, I’ll come to Texas! I’ve never been there!
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Are the hinges on your cabinet doors adjustable? Ours (European style hinges) have little adjustment screws to raise and lower and move them in and out so they can be perfectly aligned. As far as I can tell, they’re not adjustable, but I’ll have to look closer when I’m actually out there. That would rock, if they were!
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Robyn, I need your cat advice. I haven’t raised a kitten in twenty years, and I seriously do not remember the last one being half so naughty as this little black monster. He’s about in his catly teens – say, ten months old? (I’d have to count on my fingers, but that’s close.) But SUCH a hellion! I’m really ready for the ankle biting and the leaping and grabbing to stop already. Your air-can trick worked wonders with the Christmas tree, but the three of us can hardly carry those around with us in holsters in case he zooms around the corner to accost our knees. Or faces, in Seamus’ case, which I do not find amusing. Please tell me it’s just a phase… It’s just a phase! Okay, I don’t know that, but it sounds like it’s probably just a phase. Young cats are of The Debil and always run around like their asses are on fire. What I would advise you to do is teach the little hellion what “no” means. I started working on it with Maddy before Nance and Rick whisked her away from me. She was a biter even back then (I tried to warn them!). Anyway, she’d go to bite me, I’d flick her on the end of her ear (cats HATE that) and either say “no” or do the “uh UH” noise. She was starting to “get” it – I swear she was! – but it’s something you really have to be consistent with. I’d teach your hellion what “no” means and after a certain point he’ll understand the word. I don’t know how realistic that advice is, though, if he stalks you and attacks you when you’re not expecting it. Maybe snatch him up when he does it, flick his ear, and say “NO” very sternly? I bet he’ll start to calm down in a few months, though. I hope for Seamus’s sake he does! Also, if he jumps on you guys and digs his claws in, I’d recommend you either go with SoftPaws or trim his claws.
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I’ve been playing a LOT of diner dash and diner dash 2 lately and I was struck by how much you look like Flo in the pictures included in this entry. Crazy!! I didn’t know who this Flo was, so I Googled her up, and I have to say, I can see a resemblance! I think it’s the sideways smile, mostly.
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Best picture of Spanky, EVER.
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Previously 2006: I call him Bob. 2005: Bouncing like that just can’t be a good thing. 2004: “DAMN it’s cold in here, give me some ass!” 2003: No entry. 2002: No entry. 2001: Let’s just hope she wasn’t preparing him for the slaughter. 2000: No entry. ]]>

3/1/07

Edited to add, 5:30 pm central time: We’re fine. The tornado that hit was a couple of hours south of us, and last I heard, the really bad weather’s expected to go around us. I hope it does! Edited to add, 9:00 pm central time: Still no bad weather – just wind and rain – and it looks like the bad weather’s done for the night. I’m amazed that Survivor wasn’t pre-empted by the weather coverage, because I swear to god, every time we have bad weather it’s on a Thursday and Survivor gets fucked up!

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New month, new logo! This one was created by talented reader Aly. Every time I look at it, it makes me giggle. Thanks, Aly!!!
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This page cracked me UP. Thanks for sharing, Andrea!
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I watched Shut Up and Sing the other day (Monday, in fact, while I spent the entire day cooking dinners so I’d not have to cook again this week. I’m an excellent multi-tasker, and got lots of TV watching in while I was cooking.). I actually liked the movie, enough that I might want to watch it again in the future. I’ve always liked the Dixie Chicks’ music, and I LOVE Not Ready to Make Nice. Natalie Maines could use some wardrobe advice, though, and I hope I’m not trampling all over her Right to Freely Dress Like a Bag Lady when I say that. (“Robyn,” you are saying right now. “Just what exactly are YOU wearing, that you feel secure in putting down the way Natalie Maines dresses?” And to you I say: “Shaddup.”*) One of the weirdly interesting parts of the movie was when the husbands would show up for a minute or two. Natalie’s married to Adrian Pasdar (the guy from Heroes – but don’t ask me what role he plays in the show, I haven’t watched it since the first episode, which is something we might remedy when it comes out on DVD this Summer/ Fall) and he was around a few different times. Emily’s married to Charlie Robison, who sings El Cerrito Place, which is a song I adore (Emily is, correct me if I’m wrong, the one who’s got the dark hair) and he was in there a couple of times. Martie’s married to some guy I don’t know, and he showed up a couple of times, but since he’s not anyone I’ve ever heard of, I have nothing to say about him. He seemed nice, though, how’s that? Anyway, good movie, I liked it, check it out. *Gray cotton pants, a gray long-sleeved Myrtle Beach t-shirt, and very warm blue socks. Did I mention “Shaddup”?
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I spent all day Tuesday and all day Wednesday out at the house, puttying and caulking*. I hate caulking**. Cannot stand the caulk***. Don’t ever want to see any more caulk**** again, as long as I live. At least it’s mostly done. Not only did I caulk, I found that a couple of pieces of quarter-round hadn’t been nailed down (Fred measures for the quarter round, cuts the quarter-round, then nails down all but the end pieces of the quarter-round so I can paint the ends), so I got me the nail gun and nailed those suckers down. I can guarantee you, back before we closed on this house it never would have occurred to me that I could use the nail gun my own self to nail down quarter-round. I would have waited for Fred to do it. I’ve done a lot of things in this house I couldn’t have imagined last Fall: painting the entire upstairs bathroom, painted the majority of the trim in the house, caulked*****, puttied, switched out outlets and switches, created a brush pile and helped burn it down, kept a fire going in the big fireplace, tried to convince Fred we need a pellet stove, burned piles and piles of leaves, cleaned out an entire overgrown ditch. I’m sure there are other things, I’m just too damn tired to try to think of them. What else did I do? Oh, right – I stained the ends of the quarter-round for the stairs, then worried that the ends looked too dark, so instead of putting polyurethane on them, I left them so Fred could inspect them (he decided they looked fine, so I polyurethaned them before I left), and caulked***** my closet so now all that needs to be done in there, is the trim around the doorway needs to be painted, and a couple of shelves hung. I had no idea the closet was going to take so damn long to get done, but it’s a FINE looking closet and one I’m happy with, and considering I’m going from a walk-in closet to a much smaller one, that’s an amazing thing. We are so very close to being done with the house, which means of course that the worst weather ever is headed our way. I’m sure that when I head out to the house tomorrow morning for another all-day work session, I’ll find that the huge-ass tree we love so much has landed on the house, crushing the holy hell out of it, and rendering the house a complete and utter loss. Good times! *Hee! **::giggle:: ***::snort:: ****::smirk:: ****::g r i n:: *****::snicker::
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Pictures from around the house: The gum trees that are dropping gum balls all over the place. Someone said that pruning back the trees would result in less gum balls, but I don’t know that that’s an option for us, since they’re so big. They’re pretty, but the gum balls are a little bit on my nerves. Between the shed and garage. Behind the garage. One of the things I love about our new house is that there are random daffodils growing all over the place. Daffodils being my favorite flower, I think this is a good sign. I cannot recommend enough the lovely, citrusy scent of winter honeysuckle. I love to sit on the porch and sniff the air. This stuff smells amazing.
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“Hey, lady! How many times you going to flash that thing at me?” Smackdown Stage 1: The Taunting. (ie, “Newt’s mouth writes a check his butt can’t back up.”) Smackdown Stage 2: The Butt-Kicking. (ie,”Momma always was stronger, faster, and meaner than Newt realized.”) Smackdown Stage 3: Confusion. (ie, “Wha’ happa’?”) Previously 2006: It was so friggin’ cute I made Fred listen to it, too. 2005: I have my finger on the pulse of pop culture, apparently. 2004: A day in the life. 2003: What makes me crazy. 2002: No entry. 2001: No entry. 2000: Okay, enough of the wallowing.]]>