Tag Archives: wtf

Rick-rolled in real life

Posted on by
Reply

I’ve ruined my child. I know this isn’t a surprise to most of you out there, but I still feel the need to say the words out loud.

It’s official. I really have ruined him.

We know he’s special for an 11 year old. I mean, what other pre-teen’s favorite word is facetious? Who else is planning his high school selection based on whether or not he’ll want to cut his hair? My child…that’s who. (Did I tell y’all that story? He announced the other day that he will not be cutting his hair for 3 years until he goes to Catholic High (where they require short hair). I explained that if he grows his hair for 3 years that he might not want to go from super long to super short. He told me that’s why he had a back up plan: “See, I know I’m going to get into Catholic b/c I’m smart and I’m a legacy, so I’ve decided that if I really like my awesome hair, I’ll go to Central instead.”) Oy.

Two days ago, this very unique-minded child announced he had a new favorite song.

NEVER GONNA GIVE YOU UP by Rick Astley

No. I’m not kidding. He’s been Rick-rolling himself ever since by watching the video over and over and singing it at the top of his lungs. Please use the headphones, Mr. Francis. I promise, if I have to hear that song one more time, I absolutely will give you up.

I have ruined my child and now I’m having to live with the end result. Karma really is a bitch sometimes.

Or as my momma always said: You pay for your raisin’… (Which I always heard as You pay for your raisin…and I always thought “Well duh, cuz otherwise you’d be stealing. And who would steal a raisin?”

weird and random miscellaneous

Posted on by
Reply

My 11 year old’s favorite word right now is facetious.

My 15 year old’s favorite word is some incomprehensible grunt/noise thing that has several different meanings. The three I’ve been able to interpret so far are: No, I’m hungry, and Get out.

I woke up this morning with the song WILD WOMEN DO in my head. I don’t know when the last time I heard that song was, and I’m not really sure what the Universe is trying to tell me, but whatever. I’m just gonna sit back and sing it all day.

BECAUSE I CAN’T GET IT OUT OF MY HEAD NO MATTER HOW HARD I TRY.

I figure if I’m suffering, so should you. You’re welcome.

search me!

Posted on by
Reply

It’s been a while since I’ve done a stat blog. It’s amazing what terms people search for that lead them here.

BTW: we do not discriminate here at Mel-O-Drama. No matter how weird your search terms are, no matter how perverted you may be, you’re welcome here as long as you play well with others. Just be warned, your search terms are totally fair game as a blog topic.

As usual, CNBC’s Melissa Francis’s legs & Naked Melissa Francis have been a hot item. (BTW, she emailed me one day this past summer saying she’s happy to mooch off my attention and maybe I could post some photoshopped pics of her head on Meghan Fox’s body. I promised to do so if she she would get me some face time on her show to pimp my book…I’m still waiting for my invite. LOL)

There’s been a lot of BITE ME! and LOVE SUCKS! activity, for which I thank you. (LOVE SUCKS! will be out July 2010) BITE ME! is still on the shelves so get out there and buy your (minimum) 2 copies!

I’ve had some Shirley Q. Liquor searches. People love her Razorback fight song!

Lots of piercing, tattoo, and cleavage searches.

And then come the weird ones:

  • Teach my ass Melissa (srsly, is this from some kind of porn? I’ve got to find it, because I’m still getting multiple hits a week for that)
  • Bunco MILF (Maria, this could be a new genre! Erotic Bunco Babes!) Also in the MILF dept: My son’s friends MILF, seducing a MILF, MILF Melissa (thanks!) & bitchin’ MILF
  • Superhero having a shag (This is one of my faves and I’m now contemplating a new blog just for that)
  • Reptile Sex (Sadly, I did blog about this once)
  • Spy Voyeurs

and my personal favorite of all of them:

  • GIRLS HUMPING THEIR PILLOWS PICS OR STORIES (this one is from Auckland New Zealand…Nolen, is that you?)

Now, once folks find their way to my blog, they sometimes use my search bar to find specific subjects that I’ve blogged about. Here’s the most recent list

  • DENTON MCDONALD: someone is very interested in my high school boyfriend. Denton, you’re getting searched from all over the states. Are you in some kind of trouble, my dear?
  • DAVID: well, I’ve discussed David Beckham, David Blaine, & Harry and David cherries. Were you looking for someone in particular?
  • Tom Keifer: Ahhhh. someone else loves Cinderella just like me
  • Scooby Doo Blanket: I was totally cute wrapped up in that blanket. It was cold that day!

and finally…the cherry on top of all the searches:

  • spider biting vagina

Excuse me? I trust you did NOT find what you were looking for when you searched my blog? *shudder*

an overreaction of Presidential proportions part 2

Posted on by
Reply

I’m discussing this over at Fictionistas as well–the fact that some schools and parents aren’t allowing their children to hear the president’s scheduled speech for the schools. Mostly I’m talking about how parents should trust that they aren’t raising sheep that are so easily swayed (I mean, ‘indoctrinated’) by one speech.

But at this blog? I’m gonna get a little pissy.

Both Reagan and Bush, Sr. addressed the schools in 1986 and in 1991 and nobody said a word. I mean, both of these presidents had questionable happenings at the time (Iran-Contra, anyone? First Gulf War, ring a bell?) and yet people welcomed the chance for their children to hear from their Nation’s Leader.

So why is Obama’s speech different? What on earth are are people afraid of? Are you worried your child might develop some individuality? Maybe have an independent thought? Yes, it’s definitely best that you keep your kid home then. Would hate for the next generation to grow up and think for themselves.

Seriously, the kids are going to sleep during the address. And if they do listen to the president? Good for them. What is so wrong with any message he’s going to give? If you work hard and stay in school, you too, could be president.

Yeah. That’s definitely a message I don’t want my kids hearing. Screw that. No way in hell do I want my kids to grow up and be president. Maybe I’ll keep my kid home, too. What a great idea.

What I find amusing is that if Bush, Jr. would’ve addressed the nation’s schools, and I would’ve refused to allow my kid to listen (wh/ I would never do because it goes against everything I believe in) but if that had happened, I would’ve been called a communist. Or asked why don’t I love my country?

Politics has nothing to do with this, so why are people making it political? He’s our president and it’s an honor for our kids to get a chance to hear him. They don’t know that yet, but it’s true. And this is the perfect opportunity for schools to teach about our nation’s government and for parents to discuss what he talks about with their kids. And if parents don’t agree with his message, then they can discuss why. But to not allow the kids to hear it because it may be something they disagree with is downright small minded. And extremist.

Now for a very funny take on this subject: Hitler finds out Obama will address school children

a screw, a stud, a bone, a nose and a pair of gloves

Posted on by
Reply

It’s been a little over 2 years since I got my nose pierced. So if you can do the math, I was 38 years old–wh/ is a little older than your average nose piercer…I’ve never once regretted the decision and honestly, I wish I hadn’t waited so long.

Kinda the way I feel about my tattoo…though I will say, I love my tattoo so much because it is THE RIGHT tattoo for me. If I had gotten one in my 20s, it probably would’ve been a fad tattoo and not one that reflected who I am as a person. (I remember wanting a parrot on the outside of my thigh during my Jimmy Buffett days. I mean, really? A parrot?)

Anyway, I tell you all this to lead up to a pretty funny story. Or at least, it’s funny to me.

After my nose piercing, I was told to be careful when using washcloths or towels on my face because the threads can yank out the jewelry. And at the time, that would’ve been very painful because I used the screw and not the bone. (could that sound more sexual?) I much prefer the bone now. (again! so sexual! this is a family blog! *cough*)

ANYWAY

I never really encountered any problems with the piercing except that when I was using the screw, I could see it in my nostril when I looked in the rearview mirror and then all I wanted to do was pick it. And seriously, nobody wants to see me picking my nose in the car.

Fast forward to Wednesday morning. I’m in the shower, belting out some Lady GaGa and exfoliating. I use exfoliating gloves religiously–nothing works better in the world. After I wash my hair I don the gloves and work from my face down. I’m always careful not to get too close to the jewelry as I scrub my face. I mean, it’s been two years and I’ve had no problems so far, right?

Well, apparently I haven’t sneezed while exfoliating my face in two years…
So I sneeze. And my hands instinctively go to my nose. And when I pull back, the gloves yank out my nose stud.

First of all, ouch. It wasn’t real painful (if it had been the screw, it would’ve hurt like hell. Nobody likes a painful screw ) but it definitely stung.
Secondly, I’m blind as a freaking bat. I’m in the shower, with soap on my face, no glasses or contacts, and I hear the tink, tink, tink of my little diamond stud bouncing in the shower.

And down the drain.

It had to have gone down the drain because I haven’t found it yet.

Thankfully I have a couple of spares (I know myself too well. It’s always best to buy two of everything when you’re me) So after my shower I just popped in the micro-stud and carried on.

I’m ordering a new diamond today along with a new belly-button ring. It’s time for a change there, too–thankfully it didn’t take me ripping it out of my navel to realize that.

K*I*S*S*I*N*G

Posted on by
Reply

I’m talking about my first kiss ever over at Fictionistas today. Pop by and check it out.

Kissing can be good (very good), bad (very bad), and sometimes it can be downright ugly. And yes, even very ugly.

This is a story about a downright (very) ugly kisser. The names have been changed to protect the innocent.

I was in 8th grade and in love with a boy named Conan*. Conan was everything I thought I wanted in a boy. He was funny, handsome, tall, athletic and did I mention handsome? I wanted me some Conan like I wanted the newest pair of Gloria Vanderbilt jeans.

A mutual friend of ours was having a party and it was going to be my first boy-girl party. (shut up. things were different back then.) Unfortunately, my mother decided to chaperone said party as well, but that’s a different part of this story and one that will remain locked in the vault.

That night, I decided to try to look like a girl. I wore my hair down (it was always in a hat or a ponytail), put on makeup (according to mom my eyes looked like spiders from an Alfred Hitchcock movie) and even wore a shirt without a sports logo on it. See? I could totally be a girl.

Conan noticed me and we flirted and slow-danced all night. Finally, the moment had come and it was time for Conan to kiss me. (I believe it was a Lionel Richie song that was playing)

He didn’t so much kiss me as he did eat my face.

And his tongue? It wasn’t so much as touching mine as it was filling my mouth. I’m pretty sure I was chewing on it, in hopes to survive without choking to death.

It was the biggest let down ever. A dude with so much potential, a dude I had crushed on for several months, a dude who couldn’t kiss worth a damn.

I was shocked and of course, completely disappointed. But Conan was everything I wanted except for the kissing part. Maybe I could help him improve? I tried that night several times but unfortunately, his tongue kept getting bigger. I found myself wondering how he kept that thing inside his mouth.

So here’s my question, can a bad kisser be retrained? Or do two bad kissers just wind up together because nobody else wants them?

*not O’ Brien 🙂

things to ponder

Posted on by
Reply

Why is it that I can wake up at 6 a.m. with no problems and feel well rested on a Sunday, but come a work day, I feel like I’ve been trampled by an elephant?

Why does my dog bark at the mailman when he’s a block away on a different street? Also, why does my dog have a problem with the neighbors parking in their own driveway?

Why don’t houses come with a ‘self-cleaning’ option?

Why can’t I go to a movie without buying popcorn? It’s ridiculously expensive and stupid to purchase it, yet it tastes so good I can’t resist!

Why did my daddy nickname me Lissa Jane when I was growing up when my middle name is Renee?

Why does the word ‘fart’ make Rader laugh?

How is it I can find 30 4-leaf clovers in fifteen minutes, but I can’t pick a winning lottery number? What the hell kinda crack-job luck is that?

How excited am I that in 3 weeks (exactly 21 days from today) you’ll be able to buy my debut novel BITE ME! off the shelves?

who the hell is they?

Posted on by
Reply

You know the ‘they’ from “You know what they say…”

‘They’ sure say a lot.

Let’s discuss.

Things ‘they’ say:

Out of sight out of mind.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder.

So which is it? Does anyone know? Apparently ‘they’ don’t.

Life’s a bitch.

Life’s a bowl of cherries.

Do ‘they’ just cover their ass with these cliches? How does this work?

Stick it in your ear.

Stick it where they son don’t shine.

Apparently ‘they’ have a thing about sticking it but ‘they’ can’t make up their mind where.

Money is the root of all evil.

Money makes the world go around.

Money can’t buy you happiness.

Okay, so if money is the root of all evil, then it stands to reason that money can’t buy you happiness. However, if money makes the world go around, then one would reason that it could also buy you happiness and that it is NOT the root of all evil. Again, ‘they’ confuse me.

Laughter is good for the soul.

‘They’ definitely got this one right.

wildlife walkabout

Posted on by
Reply

Last night I went for a walk with @jennchristman down by the river. Instead of just walking back and forth on the Big Dam(n)Bridge, we kept going into Burns Park along the banks of the Arkansas River. It was a gorgeous night (see sunset pic for proof) and even though it was a little humid, it wasn’t unbearable. Besides, humidity is good for the skin. Why do you think I look so hot at 40?

As we were solving the world’s problems (for example: Rachel Ray needs a new stylist in a major way, Rock of Love was totally underrated, and we should all talk like Caroline from Real Housewives of NJ) there was a rustling in the high grass over to our left.

It was a tiny little thing rustling around and at first I thought it was a puppy. As I approached the little animal, I quickly saw the shock of white down the middle of its black fur. No, this was not Rover, it was Pepe Le Pew.

“Back away slowly from the skunk. I don’t wanna take a tomato juice bath tonight.”

“Seriously? Tomato juice?”

“Yeah. I think. Or lemon. Or maybe it’s vinegar. I dunno. I just don’t wanna bathe in whatever it is you have to. Skunk Funk is not a fragrance I’m willing to try.”

“I’ve never seen one live. I mean seriously, they’re all dead and stinking up the roadways.”

“I’ve never seen one not in a zoo.”

After 45 minutes, we turn around and go back toward the bridge. Our conversation has moved toward more serious topics like the pros and cons of saving some calories for booze instead of cutting out booze all together, Jazzercise is still alive and kicking, weight training and the hot dudes who offer to ‘spot you,’ and how to get rid of the world of all mean people. (We have a plan, so if you’re mean, get ready.)

That’s when the attack started. Out of nowhere these stupid giant horseflies started dive-bombing us. One hit me in the ear and I’m pretty sure I have hearing loss as a result. They quickly left me alone though and started chasing Jenn. I guess she smells sweeter than me because they were all about her. There were three of them, all were huge, at least an inch long, and landing on her back and buzzing her head. Finally I told her to hand me her awesome ROCK OF LOVE baseball hat and let me swat them. I defended her honor. I was her white knight. I’m officially the butch in our friendship. That’s okay with me. I’m the cutest butch ever.

“I hate nature.”

“No you don’t.”

“I totally hate nature.”

“Shut up.”

“Tell me you hate nature, too.”

“Nope. I love it. I could pitch a tent right here, and pee in the woods.”

“You totally are the butch.”

About five minutes later, there was another rustling and a group of folks was gathered around a tree. I thought maybe it was an Opossum but no. It was an armadillo.

“I really hate nature.”

“Seriously! We’ve seen two animals LIVE that
usually we only see dead. That’s awesome.”

“Nature sucks.”

Our walk was an hour and a half long and apparently sponsored by Mutual of Omaha’s Wild Kingdom.<–and if you don’t get that reference, I’m too old or you’re too young. I’m going with the latter.

stoopid hooman trick–I duz it right akshually

Posted on by
Reply

I’m alive! It’s true. No matter how much I wanted die this week, I actually made it through.

Sometimes I can be for reelz stoopid. I know it’s hard to believe, me being Mel the Awesome and all. But it’s true.

So sparing you all the gory details, because really, they don’t matter in the long run, I basically lost 2 weeks of work on Sunday.

Two full weeks I had been revising LOVE SUCKS! I had been taking my time, doing it right. blah blah blah.

And on Monday morning, I pulled up to finish and tweak (because they were due Monday) and I discovered they were gone. Almost completely gone.
funny pictures of cats with captions
see more Lolcats and funny pictures

Now, I know what happened. Like I said, the only detail that is important is the fact that I am for reelz stoopid sometimes.

Thankfully I have a fabulous editor who gave me the rest of the week to fix my stoopid hooman trick.

And because the revisions were so fresh on my mind, the only real thing that was getting in my way was time. Because, of course, I work on Tues, Wed, and Thurs.

Sleep? Highly overrated.

I actually had a bit of a melt down Wednesday night. It wasn’t pretty and thankfully only one person witnessed it via text message. I believe he referred to me as a ‘grilled cheese sandwich.’ Yeah, a nuclear grilled cheese. It was U-G-L-Y.

And I ain’t got no alibi.

But now it’s sitting in Awesome Editor’s inbox and I’m going to celebrate with a pedicure (am contemplating Kermit Green toes…thoughts?) and sleep.

Oh sleep…how I’ve missed you.

Next week, I’ll be doing a girl’s trip to Beaver Lake in NW Arkansas. Can’t wait. Not sure if I’ll have real internet access there (okay, not sure if I want real internet access) but last year I took lots of pics of wild life and posted all about it when I got home.

So if I’m not blogging til Wednesday, please forgive me!

I hope y’all have a great weekend. Tell me: what you got goin’ on?