Boobs In Exchange For Technical Support. Please Help!

OK, I'm reaching out to my "tech" readers on a problem I still have when clicking on some of my favorite blogs.

For example, Mental Poo. Same thing with Swirl Girl.

Here's the title on the error page I get:

Error on page: "googleads.g.doubleclick.net..............................................." And then below this I usually get "Error 403" or "Error 400".

So, my assumption is that something in my own computer settings is blocking access to these sites, and I'm wondering if it has something to do with google ads????? If I access these sites from other computers, I can get through with no problems.

I've cleaned my cache and cookies under Internet Options.

Can ANYONE out there suggest something else??? I am in serious need of some mental poo.

I'll even post a picture of my boobs if someone can help me fix this issue.

Just kidding honey!

How does Obama's speech get me thinking about shower curtains and baby oil?

So after a full day of cleaning kid puke and watching hours and hours and hours and hours, oh - sorry - and hours of Nickelodeon cartoons I finally got the kids to sleep and realized a stranger of a man sitting on the exact couch I had secretly planned to curl up on in order to temporarily die.

Holy shit, I forgot I actually have a husband. These days, I am past the point of sanity and have entered a world of chaos infested with puke bacteria that just won't die. I would totally suck as a full-time stay at home mom. God bless all of you that do this on a regular basis. I had a 30 minute conversation with my mom asking her how in God's name could people not only stay home, but institute home schooling as well. Are they insane? Are they serious? Or am I literally just a ruthless selfish bitch of a mother craving coital activity with my manly husband more than once a week?

[Did you like that world coital? I LOVE that word. It reminds me of how my mom might refer to "sex" if she could ever talk out loud about such a subject.]

So, I'm trying to get back to the point of this dreadful post [please people, my kid is home sick yet again today and I just yelled at her that if she's sick but not puking chunks than she's well enough to sit on the damn couch alone because Mommy has a lot of important shit to do like attempting lame blog posts and googling tips on how not to insult lame ass interviewers as I obviously did last week]...

As I snuggled into that hot thing of a man on the infamous "death" couch I was talking about, we prepared ourselves to watch Obama. This is how in sync we are, which is scary. At about 9:28, about 10-15 minutes into Obama's actual speech, Mark's spoken words were literally the exact thoughts going through my mind:

"That fucking line underneath the word "TO" keeps disappearing every so often. It's driving me CRAZY."

silence.

Holy shit. I couldn't even say anything, because I swear I was thinking the EXACT same thing.

Never mind this recession that has cut our household income by like 6+ digits, and never mind Obama's plan to create new jobs, implement tax cuts or improve education in this country for our kids... the monitor's caption of the President's speech was all we could pay attention to. For those of you who were probably listening to what Obama was actually saying, here's what I'm referring to:

The light cuts into it a bit, but the word "to" had an underline, which after careful monitoring and timing by counting "One Mississippi, two Mississippi..." [a minimum of 3-4 times to ensure accuracy], would disappear every 10 seconds. Suddenly it would flash back on the screen and cause the two of us to initiate the counting once again. A simple validation that the two of us are total lame asses. Especially because we thought it was funnier than shit.

So that's where my ability to self entertain is these days. I feel trapped in a house where all I can do is continue to spray Lysol in the hopes that I dare not pick up this bug to ruin the upcoming weekend where all kids retreat to their other parents homes. 48+ hours of total peace. Whoo Hoo baby. Remember that shower curtain and baby oil?

That's all I'm sayin'.

The Four Words a Mom Hates To Hear

I feel guilty for my recent absence. While I have several posts brewing in draft mode, I haven't been successful in google results to add that "perfect photo" for a few of them which to me, seems to tie things all together.

Today would be different she thought to herself. She created a list of to-do things and was ready to tackle the day. And then it happened.

6:21 am: The bedroom door bursts open, as she attempts to pry open one eyelid...


and then, she hears those four fucking words every mom dreads hearing from a child...

"MOM. I'M. GONNA. PUKE."

So here begins her day, with this being all I got for a post. A lousy excuse as to why I hope to be here bright and cheery tomorrow.

A new day.

Cheers.

Why my husband and I are 'almost' brilliant and at the same time still exhausted.

This past week was pure exhausting. And while I'm not so sure that the kids' mid-winter school break set me off to the point of running to my local Target to apply as an hourly cashier, whatever one might consider to be one level away from that pretty much says how I "just barely" managed.

After 7 days at home with four munchkins [intertwined with a surprise interview mid-week, which basically put me over the edge] my husband and I pulled out that infamous can of Whoop-Ass 101 that we've been practicing with. This is something we save for dyer emergencies, and if asked about early on Saturday morning, my response would have been that we are "absolute genius".

I decided to take some time away from blogging, while my husband and I kicked our feet back and watched TV while snacking on chocolates and wine as the rest of the gang proceeded to execute Whoop-Ass 101 drills.

Take a look:

OK. So I lied.

While these are actual photos of our real children, I would like to notify any parent taking Whoop-Ass 101 drills into consideration that THIS IS NOT RELAXING.

And it does not give you any free time. It only triples the time that normal cleaning would take you alone, and is filled with turn-taking, arguments about who gets to mop, clean windows and vacuum while all that really results are streaked windows, dirty paper towels being dropped throughout your entire house and moldings covered in blue and red window paint from being inappropriately doused with too much water.

So while I would like to blog more creatively today, I can't because I will be spending the entire day cleaning up Whoop-Ass.

Shit.

How NOT Working Can Kill You

Trip to Howes Caverns... $122

Babysitter to make last minute job interview today... $45

Gas to fill tank... $37

Passing out from exhaustion after putting kids to bed... Priceless.

Promise to be back at commenting real soon!