Hooligans' Halloween History ~ Part 1

After much digging through old photo albums (damn the pre-digital era!) & scanning in more than my fair share of pictures, I now present to you...

THE HISTORY OF THE HOOLIGANS' HALLOWEENS!

(I apologize in advance for the sheer number of pictures I am posting... it was SO hard to choose just one from each year!

And to save you time, I am breaking this up into a PART 1 and PART 2. You are welcome.)

1999

Scott looks 16!  I was gonna make some joke about him sportin' Swatch Watches, but then I realized that was more 80's, they'd be neon colors & he'd have 2 or 3 of them on one arm.  Oopsie daisies!

Binky Boy!
Cal almost always had a binky in his mouth & 3-4 of them hooked on his fingers, which he sniffed and rubbed on his nose.  Completely normal, no?!  HA!

Mom's first Halloween as "Gran!"
Cal, 11 months old & Maranda, 7 months old

2000

Nice corduroy overalls & LA Gear's.  What a tool.

Refusing to wear the MF dragon hat.  AGAIN.

I hate this mofo!!!  Grrrrrrr!  It's trying to EAT ME!!!!!

2001

Claire, 3 months old & Cal, 2 1/2  years old

My lil' penguin!

My little Buggy Boo!  Those eyes... 

2002

Mooooooooo!  Bok Bok!

Best.  Chicken.  EVER!

2003

Lion roaaaaaaaaar!!!! Cal, rewearin' the ol' cow costume.

Gumball machine!  SCORE!

2004

A spittin' image of my Dad (Papa Jack) here!

What'd I doooooo?!

2005

Best.  Costume.  EVER!!!!!!  Jellyfish!

2006



Lola, 6 months old



Jellyfish do-over!  Hey, we lived in a new neighborhood!!!  

2007

Jose Cuervo, get your ass in gear!

Nice glasses, Ms. Palin.  Now show me some fancy pageant walking!

Super rotund Lola & Cal

Hot tamales!

Claire's about to bust out of her costume!

Stay tuned for Part 2 & pics from this years' Halloween!

xo

Polly Pox & The Herpes Hooligans

I got two words for ya'.

F*CK.  HERPES.

And by herpes, I don't mean the pesky crotch kind... ohhhhhh, no.  Nor am I referencing the cold sore variety.  Alas, the herpes that CAN go f*ck themselves are of the shingles and chicken pox species (...or is it order? Genus? Class?  I sucked the big one at science class.  Just ask my friends, Jose & Fernando, who may or may not have carried my ass through multiple college chemistry classes more than I care to admit!).  Those little bastards (the herpes, not my friends!) seriously have done a number on 2/5 of The Hooligans so far, possibly more to come.

The tail end of September, I woke up one day to what I perceived to be a rabid, violent, hateful spider attack on my back.  Mid-sleep the previous night, I remember itching an area on my back, deciding I dreamt about this supposed arachnid bed assault, rolling over & going back to sleep.  Till morning... when I woke & realized that I still itched like a mofo back there.  I staggered to the john where I attempted to check out the damage, and I discovered I had a whole grouping of red, itchy, now rather inflamed bumps in an area about the size of the bottom of a pop can on the right, middle side of my back.  There were a few other itchy spots trailing off toward my spine. Yep, that little shit spider SURELY plotted from above, Matrixed his 8-eyed ass down from the ceiling, obviously sought out She-who-hated-him-worse-than-any-individual-on-the-planet (AKA Yours Truly), and proceeded to get to third base go up my shirt to feast on my back, realized he's likely busted, maniacally tried to get away, bit me 3 more times, then exited my sheets full tilt before I could ever locate/squish/throw in the toilet/pee on/flush his hairy, disgusting carcass down my likely-not-clean toilet (you know, for old time's sake!).

Spiders are sooooo evil.  No really, they are. Screw that whole "They're more afraid of you than you are of them!" bullshit or that "No really, spiders are GOOD!  They eat the cockroaches!" pile of crap because seriously, they're the devil's f'ing spawn.  Positive.

I totally forgot about the onslaught for a few hours until it started to itch again. I pulled my best Tommy Boy  to Scott: "It doesn't itch HERE or HERE so much, it's more in THIS REGION HEEEEEEERE...," pointing to said spider-bitten area.  Scott's all, "You have a rash... no wonder it itches."  "It's not a RASH... I'm positive I got bit by something. Likely one of those massive spiders that come in off the field -- you know, the hairy ones that if you try to stomp on them, you bounce back up because they're THAT BIG.  They're like small dogs," I reply.  Scott, AKA Dr. H, comes back with, "It looks like a contact dermatitis to me, or whatever the hell it is my Dad always talked about. You know, like you got into contact with something that made you break out."  "Ummmm, this is a BUG BITE.  Check me for fang marks.  I'm positive they're there, like 29 times over."  

We go back & forth about this for the next 24 hours, the hubs quizzing me like crazy about whether I changed detergent/perfume/got new sheets/got a new shirt/tag on new shirt rubbed me/rubbed up against something shirtless. Yeah, that's SO not it, hon, but thanks for the diagnosis!  I've clearly been violated by a spider repeatedly, until further notice.  Let me go throw up in my mouth now.

The next day I see my parents, and after recounting this oh-so-interesting tale to my Mom (I am ashamed to admit it might have taken like 15 minutes to tell... yes, I know.  About a dumb spider bite.  I hate those little f*ckers.).  Mom takes it all in, then with a laugh says, "It's probably SHINGLES!!!!  HA!"  

Those 3 revolting words may just have changed the past 3 weeks of my life.  Because dammit, she was RIGHT.

Days later, there were more blisters under my right boob, and holy balls, those spots itched, too.  Also, I had more odd symptoms crop up like numbness, pain/hurt/tickle combo, and some odd, tingly sensation on my right inner thigh (though that might have been related to something else.  Ha! Ha!).  Anyway, then the blisters appeared... then they popped... then they scabbed up... but in the middle of all that bullshit, THE SHINGLES HURT LIKE A MOTHERF*CKER!!!!!!!!  I recall one night Scott was out of town & it was just me home with the three kids for 5 straight nights, and I was literally BAWLING from the pain.  I remember screaming, "I THOUGHT ONLY PEOPLE OVER 60 GOT THE SHINGLES!!!!!!!! I am NOT friggin' GERIATRIC, dammiiiiiiiittttttttttttttttt!!!"  I finally took a handful of few Tylenol and crashed, with Polly Pocket in my arms.  (Thank GOD she slept!)

The pain was more bearable each day, and I barraged my aching body with tons of homeopathics, natural antivirals, vitamins/minerals, & healthy shit to try to kill those damn herpes once & for all.  I did some checking/researching regarding the ability to pass the shingles and/or chicken pox on to someone who has not had the chicken pox, namely our three children.  It was possible, I read, though probably they'd have to come into contact with the blisters themselves.  Considering the fact that I breastfed all three of our kids for a combined total of 59 months, clearly my topless days are long since over.  SURELY we were in the clear, right?  RIGHT?!?!?

Ummmm, yeah... till this past Sunday.

Yep, yep.  Two weeks and one day after I got the shingles (in my 30's -- WTFFFFF!?!?!), my tiny, sweet Lola, who had been really fussy and pukey the previous 3-4 days, busted out with three blisters -- two on her back & one on her leg.  I knew immediately.  OMG.  That herpes is some nasty, contagious shit.

What is up with this f*ckery?!  I HATE YOU, Motherrrrrrrrr!!!!!

Yeah, YOU.  I am SO plotting evil things RIGHT NOW, beyotch.
(Thank God for Instagram filters which make the spots not look so flippin' red...)

Chicken pox can blow me.  Anybody got a vat of Calamine?!

Today many of the blisters are starting to scab, Polly P. let me put her down for the past hour while I worked on this blog, and she is sleeping a lot (i.e. healing!). Yesterday was a pretty miserable day for her, but I see slight improvements today.  I figure I'm at T-minus 9 days and counting till the shit hits the fan with Cal & Claire. Apparently chicken pox is "highly contagious" and often times whole houses of kids get them simultaneously. Fan-f*ckin'-tastic. I feel like such an a-hole.

Alas, Polly Pox, I mean... Polly Pocket is awake, and I'm gonna go swoop her up, find a non-pox covered area to kiss (if that's possible -- they're even on her eyeballs, gums, crotchal region, tongue, & inside her ears), and feed my little spotty angel. Oh, and hopefully in all my "spare time," I can Google how to avoid also getting the gout, menopause & dementia, too.

This t-shirt can be yours by clicking HERE!

xo

Nothin' some penis can't fix

I am pretty sure, judging from the tiny amount of pee that came out (Ease UP, you guys, I said TINY AMOUNT!!!  I *AM* aware that you all know about my past sharting episode, but rest assured, I am not incontinent. Yet.) that I laughed harder last night than I have in quite some time.  Here's why...

OK, so part of the reason I've been slightly MIA lately is because our hard drive crashed (I am sooooo thanking 8 lb. 6 oz. newborn infant Jesus for Carbonite about now!!!) & also because of THIS...

Meet Cash (AKA Butters), 10 weeks old, our new, furry whippet son

What'd I doooooo?!?!?!
(Ummmm, for starters, you chewed the shit out of our weed guard under the deck steps where no one can get to you, shit on the exposed dirt, then ate your own semi-soft/watery-from-transitioning-dog-foods turds, buddy.  I am soooo submitting this pooch to that website, Dog Shaming.  OMFG!)

Despite my trash talkin', I LOVE THIS DOG!  He is not only incredibly charming, flat-out GORGEOUS, and very smart, but he also already has us wrapped around his little finger paw!  We are in full-on potty training mode mixed with some serious teething hoopla.  He is affectionately called "Gator" due to his lightning-fast, chomping jaws.  Hard to stay mad at him too long though... he's too damn cute!  

We finally remembered last night that we had an old Bully Stick laying around from Romeo's horrific teething days, and we decided to bust out that big boy to see if Cash wanted a piece of that action.

(Side Note:  For those of you unfamiliar with Bully Sticks, you NEED to get on it (pun intended!).  The first time I saw them was in a local, upscale pet shop.  It was meaty and irregular-looking, and I just assumed that it was some type of dehydrated beef or something.  Not quite.  Bully Stick = dehydrated bull penis.  NO LIE!  And TRUST ME when I tell you that all dogs LOOOOOVE them some bull schlong!!!  HA!)

Cash was no exception.  He seriously went to town on good ol' Mr. Knish.  Observe...

Truly the John Holmes of bulls here

Double-pawin' that baby-maker!

Ignore the apparent vein on the underside of this love rod... slightly too graphic for my blog.
Wait, who am I kidding?!?!

Doggie porn!  Butters has a new BFF!
Fun fact for ya'... bull penises range in length from 30-40" when erect.  Lucky cows!  That's a long bratwurst!  HA!

Hey-oooooooo!!!

Cal said, "This pic is hilarious -- that penis is highlighted on Dad's face!"
God, I love that boy o' mine.

Notice Romeo's not-so-subtle interest in Cash's Magic Stick

Drop that shaft & no one gets hurt!!!
Poor Pocket is mortified!

PENIS ENVY!!!  Straight up.
(And HANDS DOWN, this is my favorite pic of the bunch!)
Check out the mayhem that is this whole scene... Baby Puppy gettin' jiggy with his bull junk (which Scott happens to be holding for him to chew right over his own package!), big doggie brother attempting to steal said pecker, old dog sniffing his younger brother's crank, the girls refusing to make eye contact, Cal/Scott/Me laughing uncontrollably off-camera.  It's a wonder this pic isn't blurry from the camera shaking due to my hysterics!
HOT MESS!!!!!!!

This manhood is MINE!  All miiiiiiine.

Mr. Happy is a bit hard (to handle)!

So, as we watch this scene unfold, I get to wondering about the Bully Sticks & whether they contain any additional hormones/testosterone/etc.  Here's our dialogue:

Me:  So, is it safe for a 10 week old puppy to chew on bull winkies?!

Scott:  I don't know -- probably?!  He seems happy!

Me:  Should I be concerned that Cash will get hooked on the skin flute & get too much testosterone & be all aggressive & grow too much & his balls will shrivel up & he'll be all muscled out & shit?

Scott:  I doubt it.

Me:  I mean, he already appears to be larger than Romeo was at this same age... what if this makes him grow to like 45 pounds or something?!  Too much penis could be a bad thing?!  (I whisper to Scott, "Neverrrrrrr!!!!!" HA!)

It was then that our darling, precious, 13 year old son chimes in with, "We need to give Pocket some penis."

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!

Me, between laughs:  WHAT?!?!?  HAHAHAHAHA!  WHYYYYY, CAL?!?!?!  HAHAHAHHAAAA!!!

Cal:  TO GET HER TO GROW!!!  We need to grind that penis up & put it in her bottle!

----- MORE LAUGHS/SILENT LAUGHS/TEARS!!!!! -----

Scott, after finally catching his breath:  Why don't you Google it & see if it's safe?!

Me, post Google action:  Says online it's a safe, healthy, high-protein treat that all dogs REALLY enjoy.  That peen's a keeper!

Post-phallus exhaustion/afterglow at its finest.  I love my family!!!

"I nicknamed my penis 'The Truth' because bitches can't handle it." ~ Unknown cocky bull

PS ~ You're welcome for the 19 slang penis references throughout this post.  And you're also welcome that I didn't use more.  I am ashamed that I only exhausted approximately one third of my wanker synonym list.  (Make that an even 20!)

xoxo