Monday, October 31, 2011

My Spooky Halloween Story

A little background: I love paranormal stuff. TV shows, novels, ghost stories, etc. BUT I am and have always been a skeptic. I always try to look for the logical explanation....after I get excited and freak out. About a month or so ago, Buffy III started acting strange when she was in her crib. She would point to the ceiling and say,
See dat baby?Dat baby right dere!
Of course, I have never seen the baby but she talks about him often. She calls him "Goby Joe".
When I Googled "Goby Joe", this is what I got.

Recently, some odd things have been happening: weird noises, things falling, seeing things out of the corner of our eye, and Mr Buffy and I like to joke that it must be Goby Joe. In fact, just last night I was saying how every time I sit on the couch and watch TV, I will catch something moving out of the corner of my eye in the bathroom. Mr Buffy confessed to seeing things too, but we decided that it is probably the reflection of he window in the bathroom mirror.


Then today while I was frosting the cupcakes I had made for Buffy Jr's school Halloween party, I felt something behind me. I assumed it was my husband, and then I felt a tug on the hood of my sweatshirt. I turned around to see what he wanted. Nobody was there. I immediately got hot and started sweating. I found Mr Buffy and Buffy III sitting in the living room watching Dora. EEEEPPPPP!!!!
After I freaked out, I realized that my hood probably just got caught on the back of my sweatshirt somehow, but couldn't help but ask "Goby Joe? Is that you???"

Tuesday, September 6, 2011

The Hit Maker

My sweet little hellcat, Buffy Jr, has just written her 3rd hit* song. It's a breathy, Janet Jackson-esque dance tune with very interesting lyrics:

I don't have to
I don't want to
It's a fallacy

I'm cool
I'm awesome
It's plain to see

Poof you here
Poof you there
It's goin' down...

Can't you just see Janet Jackson a la Rhythm Nation dancing around and singing this?

 Buffy Jr started writing songs at the tender age of 3. Her first was this sweet little number, written while she was sitting on the potty:

   Sometimes, I cry
and I don't know why.
Maybe, I'm sad
or maybe I'm mad

But then my mama
gives me a hug
and then I don't feel so bad.....anymore.

Introspective at age 3

She has also written a death metal song that I "forgot" to write down. It was full of appropriately dark and angsty lyrics. And when I say "appropriately" I mean appropriate for the genre, not appropriate for a sunny six year old.

Who me?

Buffy Jr isn't just a singer/song writer though, she also is a rapper. Most people who have met her have heard her 90's rap version of "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star", complete with a Vanilla Ice style "boyeeeeeee!" at the end. 

She has always been creative musically and while most of her songs make no sense whatsoever, every now and then I am blown away by what comes out of her mouth. Where does she come up with the melodies? What is she basing her lyrics on? And more importantly, how the hell does she know what the word fallacy** means? 

*the term hit meaning I wrote it down

**for the record, I think "fallacy" was a total fluke. She probably has never even heard the word, much less knows the definition.

The future of music

Sunday, September 4, 2011

Rest in Peace

Please join me in remembering the short life of 22 lovingly baked confetti cupcakes that were to be eaten at my precious daughter's 2nd birthday party.
The cupcakes, complete with Dora the Explorer wrappers, were brutally murder while sitting innocently on my kitchen counter, waiting to be frosted this morning.

Two suspects have been named in the tragedy. A 1 1/2 year old Australian shepherd mix named Boss and a 7 year old Rat Terrier named Bradley are being held for questioning. It is thought that while Boss is the one who reached up on the counter and pulled down the cupcakes (they were sitting on a cup towel), Bradley has been named an acomplice.

Here is a photo of the suspects:

Not a trace of the cupcakes have been found but investigators have said they will be combing the back yard in the next couple of days, looking for evidence.

Update: The body of one of the cupcakes was recovered in the laundry room. Although intact, it could not be saved. It was covered in dog hair and slobber.
The family will proceed with the party as planned. They were quoted as saying "We feel that's what the cupcakes would have wanted."

A friend of the family, killberry, has created this touching eulogy. Never forget.

Though I walk through the valley of the baking confections, I shall fear no canine, for Tupperware art with me. Its locking lid and cupcake-slots, keep me in place.
You were grown in the Earth and to the Earth you shall return. Let us not mourn the loss of these tasty morsels, but rejoice in the fond memories of them once being with us.
Rest well confetti treats, your sacrifice will not be forgotten. The icing will go on to frost another, but you will always remain a short part of its existence.

Thursday, June 23, 2011


I just cleaned out my refrigerator.  It was.....well....

You know that scene in Ghostbusters where the lovely Sigourney Weaver opens up her fridge and that demon-dog-thing growls, "ZUUUUULLLL!"? 

It was sorta like that only with more screaming.

Sunday, May 15, 2011

Yes. This really just happened.

We have a phenomenon in our house we like to call "poop-tastrophes".  It is when Buffy III's poop ends up somewhere it is not supposed to be.  Use your imagination.

So we had a poop-tastrophe this afternoon, and after stripping the bedding and an unscheduled bath, we were good to go.  We had dinner.  We played.  It was typical. 

Cut to about 2 hours later.

Mr Buffy: What's on your shirt?

Me: What are you talking about?

Mr Buffy:  Look. At. Your. Shirt.

Me:  I have no idea what that is.

Mr Buffy:  Oh, I think you know what that is.  How did you not see that?!?

Me:  Dude. I can't see anything below my boobs.

I had shit on my shirt for almost 2 HOURS and didn't notice because my boobs were in the way.

Yes.  This really just happened.