Well, Poop.

I have a small sad. It is not a big sad, but it is nonetheless a sad.

It looks like the Fokker move to Wales is gonna be delayed from the summer of this year to the summer of 2016. The woman in charge of Sweet Babou’s transfer quit last October and we didn’t know it. More to the point, she was not so great at making sure the new person had the open cases. That means when Sweet Babou called about final plans, the new woman-in-charge-of-transfer hadn’t known a thing about it. She called today and told him that it will probably not be this summer when everything is ready.  Good think I wasn’t putting the house on the market until March! Still, there was already some purging and packing occurring so this is unsettling.


Posted in life as I know it | 1 Comment

Happy 5th Birthday Spock!

Today is my youngest daughter’s birthday. She just turned five. I am not sure how that is possible since it feels like I brought her home from the hospital yesterday. Baby Spock was, in my opinion, one of the most beautiful creatures to ever grace the face of the planet. In hindsight, however, I may have been prejudiced in her favor. Looking back at photos I now realize that her jaundice made her look like a yam carved into the shape of Winston Churchill’s face with black lamb’s wool on top. My precious daughter was Oompha Loompah orange.

Seriously, it looked as though these two were merged via photoshop:

churchill  oompa loompa

Nonetheless, I adored her. I still do. She has been a joy and a delight and I am eternally grateful she came into my life. That’s even with the fact she has entered the preschool stage wherein nothing on this earth is as hilarious as flatulence. To poot on my leg brings Spock mirth untold. I have become the recipient of much pooting. It’s worth it just to hear her laughter, though.

She has the best laugh, y’all.

Posted in daughters, I like this, dammit., life as I know it, motherhood | 2 Comments

Baron “Taintface” Munchausen

Baron Münchhausen (Karl Friedrich Hieronymus Freiherr von Münchhausen, 1720–1797), was a German nobleman who was completely full of malarkey. Rudolf Raspe put the Tall Tales of the Teutonic Twat all together in a book he titled The Surprising Adventures of Baron Münchhausen. The book was a big hit and when Dr. , Richard Asher recognized a mental illness involving the patient’s grandiose and fictitious medical ailments that they used to get attention and control others, he named it after the Baron. Thus it was that Munchausen’s Syndrome came into being via The Lancet in February 1951.

Munchausen’s syndrome is a pain in the ass to deal with, inasmuch as “the affected person exaggerates or creates symptoms of illnesses in themselves to gain examination, treatment, attention, sympathy, and/or comfort from medical personnel. In some extreme cases, people suffering from Munchausen’s syndrome are highly knowledgeable about the practice of medicine and are able to produce symptoms that result in lengthy and costly medical analysis, prolonged hospital stay and unnecessary operations. The role of “patient” is a familiar and comforting one, and it fills a psychological need in people with this syndrome. This disorder is distinct from hypochondriasis and other somatoform disorders in that those with the latter do not intentionally produce their somatic symptoms.”

I would bet my left boob that Taintface, the asshat and bane of my existence, has Munchausen’s syndrome.

Last Friday, Taintface quizzed my dad on the signs and symptoms of placental abruption. That Sunday, she mysteriously came down with all the signs and symptoms of placental abruption. Mom and Dad had to come get Gozer and Gamer so that BabyBro could rush Taintface to the ER. After a battery of tests, Taintface was diagnosed with round ligament pain. You know what round ligament pain is? Ouchies in your pelvis. I had it while pregnant. Just about every gravid woman on earth has had it. This is her THIRD pregnancy and she knows damn good and well what round ligament pain feels like. In short, my hyena’s anus of a SIL caused undue worry (because WHAT IF this time she isn’t making crap up to get attention) for my parents and scared BabyBro to bits because she is crazy as a shithouse rat.

Taintface is doubtlessly happy. She was the center of attention. She forced my parents to act ‘nice’ to her. Good ol’ Baron Munchausen came through.

My parents are extra disgusted because of the implied stupidity on their part. Why couldn’t Taintface at least have had the decency to Google it and then fake it? Why ask my Dad? Did she really think they wouldn’t put two and two together???

According to Wikipedia, things that can lead to “Munchausen syndrome include childhood traumas, growing up with parents/caretakers who were emotionally unavailable due to illness or emotional problems, a serious illness as a child, failed aspirations to work in the medical field, personality disorders, and a low self-esteem. Munchausen syndrome is more common in men and seen in young or middle-aged adults. Those with a history of working in healthcare are also at greater risk of developing it.”

Except for the fact that Taintface is some form of womanish creature, the risk factors fit her like a tailor-made glove. Her childhood was so heinous that I felt sorry for her for years. I explained it all to my Mom – including asking her to be merciful and tolerant of it – a few years ago when Taintface got a liver biopsy for irritable bowel syndrome (IBS). She haunted hospitals and got referrals to teaching hospitals to by doctors attempting to find the source of her ailment. She was so woe-is-me that that wound up testing her for every damn thing under the sun. You know what they found? Probable irritable bowel syndrome.  If she was sick at all it is with IBS. She drove the medicos to organ biopsy just for IBS.

She’s got some form of BS all right. Also a raging case of WTF.

Posted in are you kidding me with this shit?, health, life as I know it | 1 Comment

The Value of What is Broken

On yesterday’s episode of The Nightly Show comedian Larry Wilmore called out Bill Cosby as a rapist. Even though more than 30 women have stated publicly that Bill Cosby raped them, there are still those who are unwilling to believe it. Worse, there are those who believe it but just don’t care.

In the online magazine The Daily Beast, Asawin Suebsaeng points out that lots of male celebrities have gotten away with doing despicable things to women because people just do not care:

“Bill Cosby is far from the only famous man who has been accused of sexual assault, rape, or violence against women. And it’s astounding how many of them have been gift-wrapped a free pass from an adoring public. Mike Tyson is a convicted rapist, and he now stars as a loveable cartoon TV detective. Roman Polanski raped a 13-year-old and has since won an Oscar to a standing ovation. Sean Connery is the celebrated embodiment of rugged cool, who has openly championed beating women in order to keep ’em in line. Bill Murray has been accused by his ex-wife of repeated, brutal physical abuse. Rick James was arrested for torturing and sexually abusing a woman for three days straight, only to have his image rehabilitated by Dave Chappelle years later. John Lennon is one of the most worshipped artists who has ever drawn breath, and he has copped to battering the shit out of women. Also, who could forget Michael Jackson, R. Kelly, CeeLo Green, Julian Assange, Terry Richardson, Tupac Shakur, Gary Glitter, Charlie Sheen, Sean Penn, Josh Brolin, Nicolas Cage, and Chris Brown … then there’s Woody Allen—the other world-famous funnyman who recently came under fire for alleged horrific abuse.”

And there is more. What about Mel Gibson, who punched his girlfriend so hard he knocked the veneers off her teeth? What about Arnold Schwarzenegger, who became governor of California after sexual assaulting multiple women?

I think the lackadaisical attitudes toward men abusing women says heaps about how we value (or more to the point, do NOT value) women and children in this culture. Sure, we SAY we value them – but the proof is in the pudding. As a culture people act as though domestic violence and/or raping women is no big deal. Guys get a pass for it. It is either ignored or easily forgiven. It is gossip-worthy but not worthy of actual punishment. It is not even seen as deserving a loss in “popularity”. 

Call me a radical feminist, but I think the humanity of women and children is equivalent to the humanity of men and should be treated as equally important.

Posted in are you kidding me with this shit?, Feminism, rape culture, shit I think y'all should know, slut shaming, victim blaming | 3 Comments

Of Parenting and Promoting

I am trying not to be bleak today. A bleak-free day blinks at me like a bleeping beacon. The Big important Issues of the Day are not cooperating with my bleak-less needs, however. Ergo, I’ll blog something cute about my kids and pimp my book.

A few days ago Lilo told me about how she remembered doing something “as a kid”. She’s nine, and apparently feels that childhood is behind her. She has also gotten her very own email account (which I watch like a hawk) so that she can email her Godmother. How cute is that shit?

Stitch continues to be adorable and naughty. She is still fighting us on homework via passive resistance. It takes her 20 minutes to write her name. We have to walk her through every step because she maintains she “doesn’t know” even the most simple answers (on the math which she nails at school with no help, by the way).  She may have to submit to our tyranny but she will make it as frustrating as possible for us so that we may know her displeasure. She is the CLONE of Sweet Babou. He did exactly the same thing in school and remembers it well. Inasmuch as this is his karmic debt, I have put him “in charge” of homework duty. it’s like watching two rocks trying to out-stubborn each other like bull-headed mirror images.

Yes, they are both Taurus. This is why I am so ‘into’ astrology; it makes sense of the crazy.

Spock continues to be angelic (adorable and good with the ability to level cities if needs be). Whenever Lilo & Stitch have gotten in trouble, Spock sidles up beside me to point out that SHE isn’t doing whatever it is that got her sisters in trouble. Then she says, “It’s because I love you so much, Mama.” Yes, she is spoiled rotten and working the baby-of-the-family thing as hard as she possibly can.

As for the book pimping, bear in mind (and share the info with your friends) that my book on Feminism, Fat, and Fokking is still a mere $2.99 and that you can have my blog delivered to your kindle for only $.99 a month. Yes, Fokker witticisms can be yours for a handful of pennies. Think of the joy and wonder of it all.

Also, please with sugar and cream review my book on Amazon. Without reviews it lies there, sad and forlorn. No one wants that, now do they?

Now, I’m off to fold more laundry. Because that is the fabulous rock-n-roll lifestyle us stay at home parents have.

Posted in daughters, fat hating, Feminism, health, I've been thinking too much, life as I know it, motherhood, weird astrology crap that I am into | 7 Comments

Of Places Past

Betty Fokker:

Things all Americans need to know …

Originally posted on MADE IN AMERICA:


We have become more aware that Americans’ chances of upward economic mobility have for decades been a lot lower than Americans imagined, that being poor or rich can last generations. Efforts to explain that lock-in have pointed to several patterns, from the intergenerational inheritance of assets (or debt, as the case may be) to intergenerational continuity in child-rearing styles (say, how much parents read to their children). In such ways, the past is not really past.

Increasingly, researchers have also identified the places – the communities, neighborhoods, blocks – where people live as a factor in slowing economic mobility. In a post earlier this year, I noted a couple of 2008 studies showing that growing up in poor neighborhoods impaired children’s cognitive skills and reduced their chances to advance beyond their parents. In this post, I report on further research by NYU sociologist Patrick Sharkey (see links below) suggesting…

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Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment

Roger Ver Gets My Rant

Roger Ver, a billionaire libertarian thunder-douche with the moniker of “Bitcoin Jesus” renounced his US citizenship so he wouldn’t have to pay taxes.  He fled to St. Kitt’s in the West Indies to escape the tyranny of being a contributing productive citizen. Apparently, he feels that he should still be able to enjoy the benefits of being an American citizen and he is incensed that the USA won’t let him prance back in. Can you imagine the horror of the country you renounced not wanting to automatically give your sorry ass a visa so you can roam the roads you didn’t pay for?

It turns out that there are some people who sympathize with his plight. Mostly these are rich fellow thunder-douches who weep and wail that the ultra-rich are practically forced to leave this country because of horribly high taxes. Unfortunately for their argument, they are full of shit. The richer you are in USA the more loopholes you get in your tax code so that the REAL tax rate on the wealthiest Yanks is much less of a percentage than what a middle class American has to pay. It’s the reason for the proposed Buffet Rule. Worse yet, many of the Big Industries that are supposedly ‘heavily taxed’ actually pay NO income tax.

In short, Roger Ver paid one of the lowest tax rates in any industrialized nation and he still bitched and ran away because he didn’t think he could make it without every single dime of his billions. How much money does his greedy ass need? At what point does the money become a fetish? When does the love of money to the point where you can NEVER have enough become a mental illness?

Roger Ver and his ilk make me want to barf because they are greedy, selfish asshats who want to use infrastructure to make money without paying anything toward that infrastructure. Twatwaffles like Roger Ver are the opposite of decent people like JK Rowling, who wrote this piece for the London Times:

“I chose to remain a domiciled taxpayer for a couple of reasons. The main one was that I wanted my children to grow up where I grew up, to have proper roots in a culture as old and magnificent as Britain’s; to be citizens, with everything that implies, of a real country, not free-floating ex-pats, living in the limbo of some tax haven and associating only with the children of similarly greedy tax exiles. A second reason, however, was that I am indebted to the British welfare state; the very one that Mr. Cameron would like to replace with charity handouts. When my life hit rock bottom, that safety net, threadbare though it had become under John Major’s Government, was there to break the fall. I cannot help feeling, therefore, that it would have been contemptible to scarper for the West Indies at the first sniff of a seven-figure royalty cheque. This, if you like, is my notion of patriotism.”

Roger Ver wanted to be an ex-pat in St. Kitts. I think he should stay there with the other repellent thunder-douches and not infest the US with his presence. If he doesn’t want to pay, the taint-boil doesn’t get to play. That little tick left the dog of his own free will and he can cry me a river over his sorrow that he can’t suck its blood anymore.

Posted in irony set on "stun", Mammon, shit I think y'all should know, Uncategorized | Leave a comment