Let's draw the line at genocide

Saw that on the news last night in a story about Fidelity's dealings with oil companies meddling in the Sudan. Fidelity says they have a legal responsibility to provide the highest returns to consumers, therefore they won't rethink their choices. The reporter asked "So Fidelity is not willing to draw the line at genocide?" What a novel policy. A little mutiliation and oppression would be fine, Fidelity, as business is business, but draw that line!

Yesterday a ybab played a fun game called "Let's cry all day." Yes, let's. Of course she settled right down as soon as her father came home, and her fever and general malaise finished by the time the doctor charged us $30 to say "Fluid in the ears, no infection. Teething." Which I knew, but wouldn't I be a jerk if I were wrong? On the way back, we saw dogs, so I guess that wasn't a total waste of a leaving of the house.

I've been meaning to write about NBC's segment on cocktail playdates last week. A blogger I read, Melissa Summers of Suburban Bliss, got totally sandbagged by a stern robot of an expert, who asserted that women must never, ever drink in the presence of a child, and anyone who has even one drink has Issues and needs to learn a Healthy Way of Coping. I couldn't write about this at the time I watched the segment, because it was 8 AM, and I was already drunk, and so were all my friends. Don't you put Kahlua and whiskey in your coffee*? Now, we have been known to have a glass of wine with dinner because we don't like coping. We do like wine, though. But, to Melissa's point, there is a man around to keep me in line. Unforunately, that man is Mr. H, who has never actually managed to do this.

Meredith Viera had her "disapproving mother hen" face on throughout the segment. Perhaps she should go back to The View, where she and Barbara Walters and Rosie O'Donnell and that pretty-but-dumb little one can talk about being disgusted by breastfeeding instead. Rosie O'Donnell apparently didn't let her partner breastfeed their baby past six weeks because she didn't want to miss out on bonding too. Well, I have news for you: a ybab prefers the perfectly teat-less Mr. H at least 90% of the time. As a society, we're OK with genocide, as long as it's profitable, but titties, man, titties. Those are really scary. Especially when attached to drunk women. They are like twin frozen margarita machines, right there on the chest, where people can see them!

*This reminds me of one particularly awful job I had. My office wife and I would go hit Bruegger's every morning for coffee and a bagel, and then we would nip into the liquor store next door for, well, nips to add to the coffee. And thus renewed, we would go back to our sublet lair in an unheated church basement, clap our leg irons back on, and enable the purchase of cut-rate vacation packages. You know, make the internet happen. But we drew the line at genocide!

Posted 10:01 AM by Licketysplit

If it quacks like hydrogenated oil, then it must be an Oreo

Recently I found out that Oreos are dairy-free. Who knew eating vegan could be so bad for you?

I am covered in fibers from my new hemp shopping totes. That I used to carry home pure poison.

Oh, that smear on the floor is avocado. Glad I finally figured that one out. I might get around to cleaning it up in another few days. I have to clean up because IKEA is coming to leave us 379 boxes of screws and some pieces of MDF. This time, I am not going to follow their instructions. I am going to build a small replica of the Guggenheim Bilbao instead. Directions are for chumps! And Mr. H, who will really put together the IKEA. I will stand there and say "Are you sure that doesn't go there...are you SURE?" until he backhands me and takes my shoes and sends me to the kitchen.

But that's OK, because there are Oreos in there.

Posted 2:01 PM by Licketysplit

State of my union

Mr. H and I had an amicable disgreement over the number of Spice Girls. I came up with four, and he said five or more, maybe six. I really searched and came up with "Baby Spice, Scary Spice, Sporty Spice, Posh Spice, and maybe Brainy Spice?" He had to look it up. I forgot Ginger Spice. How could this happen? I saw Spice World in the theater. Possibly twice.

And so life returns to balance. But Mr. H still hasn't come up with a good reason as to why he is not Jude Law.

Posted 9:05 PM by Licketysplit

The more I ignore me

Yesterday my lunch resigned from my stomach on short notice. As I was hunkered on the floor, a caustic freshet of broccoli dill soup shooting from both my mouth and nose, I realized it was the fourth anniversary of Vomitola.com! Actually, I realized that this morning. And the anniversary is really last Monday. No, head in bowl, I thought "Heather would know just what to play!" That's a compliment. Once I threw up during a college radio shift, and while I was off horking up my tacos, she played "The Choke" by Skinny Puppy. Oh, nobody knows the trouble I've seen...nobody knows but boddddyyy.

I also realized that I haven't thrown up in seven months and two days. Say, that's the exact age of a ybab. Say. I threw up ON her on the most auspicious day of her birth. Should I put that in the memory book? Of course I'm going to. Where is the memory book, anyway? Mr. H has not thrown up in the entire six or seven years that I've known him. His take on the situation? "I'd rather crap." Well, wouldn't we all. Wouldn't we all!

Posted 10:04 PM by Licketysplit

A priest, a rabbi, and a parenting expert were crossing a river in a rowboat...

I accidentally watched thirty seconds of the local FOX affiliate's morning show last week. Why was the TV left on FOX at all? Cops, duh. Anyway, a self-proclaimed parenting expert was talking about "infant discipline." I picked up my coffee and prepared to be infuriated.

But the lady had a point! She said that I shouldn't be picking up my ybab every time my ybab cries because this will teach her that I will pick her up every time she cries. I pondered this, thinking that surely there will be some time when I'll need to pick her up. What if she is being partially eaten by crocodiles? But I realized that I would have to stand my ground. If I pick her up every time she's being eaten by crocodiles, she's just going to expect me to pick her up every time she's being eaten by crocodiles. Shouldn't she be learning to self-soothe if she's being eaten by crocodiles? She should also be able to sleep through being eaten by crocodiles, for at least twelve hours in a row.

I still haven't gotten around to writing the nasty letter I planned to write. I have been too busy picking up my ybab, but only when she is not being eaten by crocodiles.

Oh, to finish the joke, the parenting expert fell in the river, and the priest and the rabbi beat her senseless with a paddle. She died.

Posted 8:50 PM by Licketysplit

Jack Bauer sleeps with a pillow under his gun

Phew, I almost forgot. This concludes Jack Bauer week. Yesterday was all bokka bokka what? As all the days are, really. Someone threw up on my back, and lunch was had, and I was told a disgusting fact. The Main Idea of this fact was "large nipples, small penis." Does Jack Bauer have problems like that? Perhaps his nipples are enlarged because he straps them to a car battery for ten minutes each morning as part of his toilette.

Posted 8:27 AM by Licketysplit

Jack Bauer doesn't recycle, and he doesn't even feel bad about it

So the word on the street is that no one likes Jack Bauer. Tell me about it. I don't like it any more than you men. I don't even watch 24. My ex-almost-brother-in-law, an actual crackhead, found it too hard to follow. I can eat fifty eggs. You don't want to see what the inside of my head looks like. It's like that Mucinex commercial, except with movie quotes hanging down like streamers. Oh, there's one on my shoe.

A planet must be doing a thing. Quelle mysterioso. Will I finally roll over that 401(k) from 2001? That requires getting a signature from someone who ought to be in jail. I think that's been the sticking point. Will I stop silently judging people at the grocery store? Only if I start judging them out loud instead.

Tune to tomorrow to find out how fat Jack Bauer's mama was. Well, I will just tell you now to save you the trip. She was so fat that he had to starve her for three months in a crawl space.

Posted 11:51 AM by Licketysplit

If Jack Bauer were considerably less masculine, his name would be Chuck Norris

Jack Bauer will not be getting the iPhone because there is not enough room for hiding explosives in the battery compartment. He is also suspicious of the hike in text messaging rates.

Jack Bauer hopes you are not enjoying Jack Bauer week. I'm sure not enjoying it.

Posted 9:00 AM by Licketysplit

Jack Bauer once double-teamed a chick all by himself

I am finally halfway through reading the October issue of Vogue. I've found out about outfits that are already out of style and movies that are already out of the theater. Very useful. Where's the beef? Not in Vogue, of course.

In other TCB news, I am halfway finished collecting the annual bucket of refuse to take to the accountant. It seems we've paid enough in medical expenses and usury mortgage interest to buy a Lincoln Navigator. Well, more than a Yaris or two at least. How very, very exciting. I even paid my quarterly taxes like a good Beta, and I have the faint hope that we might get a refund. After all, a ybab is a terrible drain on our finances what with her daytrading habit. I keep telling her to hang on to Home Depot, but she doesn't listen.

Posted 9:02 AM by Licketysplit

If Jack Bauer lived next door to Kramer, Kramer would knock before entering

Not much going on at This Old Hovel. I find myself wandering around muttering things like "They're boxy, but they're good!"

Yesterday, we went to IKEA again, under great protest. Did you know that you need to special order hinges for your kitchen cabinets, but you have to pick up your handles at the store? You can't just also order the handles. Theoretically, at the end of 3-5 more weeks, we'll have some cabinets. Goodbye, pile of food. Goodbye, unused rice cooker. Now no one will be able to see that I don't use you.

Anyway, at IKEA, you can totally tell who is from Cambridge. That is all. And you can also tell who made a wrong turn looking for the Christmas Tree Shops. They'll be the ones in your way in the marketplace as you desperately try to escape. They'll also ask, of the ybab strapped to your front, "Is he comfortable in there?" No, I am Jack Bauer. I specialize in discomfort of the infant variety. If a ybab is comfortable, then I am doing something wrong. Please call my 800 number.

Posted 11:56 AM by Licketysplit

Take your protein pills and put your helmet on

I am hoping my new vitamins make my claws strong and my coat lustrous. I think I'm malnourished. My current diet tops even the "chew n' spit" diet for sheer brutality. Try it some time: strap a twenty pound squirming weight to your front while grocery shopping. Then lug whatever you buy down a two-block long hallway, up some stairs, and through an elevator. When you try to eat any of what you bought, someone will start screaming at you. I think "eeeeeaaaaahllllltpppppthhhh" means "You have cankles, you hideous dugong!" The only solution to screaming is vigorously bouncing the twenty pound squirming weight. The weight likes deep knee bends the best. Food gets crusty on the table, and who wants to eat that now?

I so don't have cankles, for the record. I am seeing numbers on the scale that I haven't seen since not eating in college. A ybab should stop trying to starve me to death. Is she in cahoots with a cat? They are just waiting to eat my face when I finally collapse. If my returns keep diminishing, I will no longer test well with the vagrants by the bus station. That would be terrible.

Posted 9:09 PM by Licketysplit

Whoa dilly

I am in the land of mundane tasks. That is right next to the Island of Misfit Toys. The cat has started a pots n' pans band with the ybab. I asked them to be quiet while I was calling Fidelity to tell them to do something to my no-money, and they laughed at me. Then Fidelity laughed at me and said I had to DOWNLOAD A FORM AND MAIL IT LIKE A PEASANT, even though their site said to call a rep to access this feature. Some feature. Some pig. It's OK, a ybab didn't need a college fund anyway. She'll get through on pluck and determination and a last minute made up scholarship essay just like her ma.

Speaking of the peasantry, I had to lie to them on engraved stationary the other day. Bless their little hearts. They think they are doing something good, but their puny offerings merely sadden and then enrage me. Back to the discount chain with your slutty infant outfits! I will thank you through pursed lips. My, what a colorful outfit. My. The accompanying rash is also colorful. Those pants make a six-month-old into a regular Tara Reid, which is what we all want in our heart of hearts. There is no nice way to just say "Please don't buy gifts ever agin. We'll still love you, if not love you even more."

Posted 9:55 AM by Licketysplit