tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-58882376307802658182024-03-14T10:19:42.410-05:00Sarah & NicWelcome to a mash up of random shit that makes us twisted and shameless broads giggle like 12 year old boys.
We are the A.D.D. of blogs.
You've been warned.Sarah and Nichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07825922786941348322noreply@blogger.comBlogger14125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5888237630780265818.post-10045992125626029262011-11-10T19:14:00.001-06:002011-11-10T19:15:42.716-06:00"Can we talk about your pubic hair AFTER dinner? Please?"Yes. Those are the words I actually uttered at dinner last night with my three heathens. They are 10, 9, and 5 years old. My 10yo is in 5th grade and learning about puberty in school. She brought it up at dinner and the topics just spun out of control. Some gems overheard at our table tonight...<br />
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"My penis is always so hard in the morning. I have to push it down just to get it to pee!" ~ 9yo<br />
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"Mom - I yike to make my penis big sometimes." ~ 5yo<br />
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"I learned that to make a baby, the egg and sperm meet in, um, Uranus?" ~ 10yo<br />
"I think you mean 'uterus' hun." ~ Me<br />
"Yeah yeah, uterus." ~ 10yo<br />
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"The hair by my weiner is called pubic hair? Really? Cuz I have some...look!!" ~ 9yo<br />
"Nonononononono...I believe you, I swear! Sit down and eat your pancakes!" ~ Me<br />
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"If my penis gets hard when I wake up in the morning because I have to pee, why isn't it always hard all day?" ~ 9yo<br />
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You might think this is hilarious...as well you should. However, along with it being funny, I think it's wonderful. Wonderful that my children will ask me about anything regardless if it embarasses them. There were moments when I had to stifle a laugh because I didn't want them to blush (but c'mon, Uranus? If she only knew!!)<br />
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My goal with this conversation was to educate my kids on their bodies and lay the groundwork for future conversations that may be difficult for them to approach. One thing I am adamant about is using the correct terminology for their body parts when having these conversations. Yes my boys call their penises "weiners" and I've referred to my own abyss as my lady garden of love ( but not when speaking to my kids though...that's just weird). However, when talking and educating them, it's penis, vagina, etc. I did throw in a Uranus joke at one point because I am secretly a 12 year old boy trapped in a 34 year old woman's body and that shit is funny.<br />
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I do struggle with one area of the puberty topic - body issues. I have body issues, like most people. I'm hoping to curb a little of that by being honest and frank with my daughter as she gets older. She's already bitching about her thighs which just breaks my heart. I can talk about pubes with my kids without batting an eye but I struggle to find the right words to make my daughter feel confident in herself. It's a learning experience and I am learning something new every day. All I can do is show her that she is beautiful regardless of what she thinks and that physical beauty is only a tiny part of the entire package. I'm going to throw out that old cliche' - "It's on the inside that what counts".<br />
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Unless it's syphillis. Then fuck off.<br />
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~ SSarah and Nichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07825922786941348322noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5888237630780265818.post-845742760938478202011-11-09T19:04:00.000-06:002011-11-09T19:04:24.979-06:00Welcome to "WTF Wednesday"!For our first installment of WTF Wednesday, I'd like to introduce you to <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2011/10/23/linda-harvey-warns-against-gay-doctors_n_1027373.html">Linda Harvey</a>. Linda is a "radio personality" and part of a group called Mission America whose mission seems to be spreading the word that "OH MY GOD, THE GAYS ARE COMING AND THEY ARE AFTER YOUR KIDS!!!" <br />
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A couple of weeks ago, dear, misguided Linda advised her listeners to avoid letting gay healthcare workers be involved in the care of their children. Seems she thinks that a rainbow lapel pin is somehow going to turn your child into a gay, God-less heathen and you will instantly be swallowed into the fiery pits of hell for being such a horrible parent. Or something like that. She suggested filing a letter with your pediatrician that says, "Gay people scare me and I want to pass my fear and ignorance onto my children, so please keep the queers away from Little Billy." Or something like that. It's okay if it's an emergency she says. If it's a matter of life and death, the gays get a pass which is mighty generous of her, don't you think?<br />
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This week, she's on a new mission. She wants people to oppose <a href="http://www.pfaw.org/issues/on-capitol-hill/factsheets/Protecting-the-Right-to-a-Quality%20Education-Standing-Together-for-Schools-that-Are-Safe-and-F">anti-bullying legislation</a> because she thinks it will indoctrinate the youth of America. She may have a point. If we don't let our children make fun of and ostracize people who are different than them, how will they feel superior? And how else will the homosexual kid know he doesn't deserve to be treated with dignity or respect? Forget the fact suicide is the third leading cause of death among teens, or that there is an undeniable link between kids who try to kill themselves (or do) and bullying. Never mind that gay teens get bullied two to three times as much as straight kids. Those are just silly facts getting in the way! Parents have an obligation to keep up the "dreaded "climate of hate"" <a href="http://www.wnd.com/index.php?fa=PAGE.view&pageId=365597">(her words and scare quotes)</a> because as any thinking individual knows, once a kid learns it's not okay to treat someone else like shit, they will automatically start loving Lady Gaga and ask for a subscription to The Advocate. <br />
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In all seriousness though, what the fuck? You hate gay people, we get it. Deny it all you want, quote the Bible, say it's about "protecting" kids, but at the end of the day, this sort of bullshit is nothing more than hate-mongering. If I had a sick child, I would want someone good at their job caring for them. How a parent could be concerned about someone who *might* be gay taking care of their sick kid boggles my mind. What are your priorities, exactly? <br />
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Her drivel about anti-bullying programs being, "a carte blanche for sexual-deviance promotion" is nauseating, sad and terribly ignorant. News flash: no one is trying to turn your kids gay. I promise. What we ARE doing is trying to protect innocent kids from being bullied to the point that they try to hurt themselves. Forgive me if I'm mistaken (because I AM a God-less heathen) but isn't there a guy in the Bible she hides behind who said bullying is unacceptable? Wasn't his name Jesus?<br />
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-NicSarah and Nichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07825922786941348322noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5888237630780265818.post-83672298650675319702011-11-07T21:14:00.000-06:002011-11-07T21:14:22.850-06:00Grilled Cheesus hates us.Sarah here...<br />
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My laptop got herpes a few weeks ago and I finally got it fixed. However, I've lost some things and don't realize it until I need them.<br />
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Like tonight. When I went to edit recordings from our 2nd, 3rd, and 4th podcasts. <br />
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Gone. <br />
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All those fuckers are GONE. My head is going to explode!!! This must be the Podcasts' Gods telling us to just give it up already. That Sarah isn't technie enough to edit podcasts to make them sound smooth. That we should stick to what we know for now...posting inappropriate shit on the internet.<br />
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Sigh.<br />
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~S~Sarah and Nichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07825922786941348322noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5888237630780265818.post-31712882299138401572011-10-14T22:53:00.000-05:002011-10-14T22:53:26.866-05:00Whoops...Nic and I...suck.<br />
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We start this blog, hit it for a bit, then disappear for a month. We are so sorry! Nic and I are meeting this weekend to plan our next podcast and our upcoming blog content. Until then we will try to throw some interesting shit on the blog to keep it going. I put randon shit on my facebook all the time...I need to do it here instead. <br />
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Mwah!<br />
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~SSarah and Nichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07825922786941348322noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5888237630780265818.post-32328526947198684932011-09-16T21:32:00.002-05:002011-09-20T11:51:49.586-05:00Debut podcast!Our debut podcast in which we learn about Sarah's unfortunate mishap after taking her youngest to the park, the fact that one of us has an innate fear of microphones, a little too much about feeders and that our bio wasn't lying, we really do laugh quite a bit, and Nic really does snort. <br />
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Enjoy! <br />
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<div><object align="middle" classid="clsid:d27cdb6e-ae6d-11cf-96b8-444553540000" codebase="http://fpdownload.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,0,0" height="25" id="mp3playerdarksmallv3" width="210"> <param name="allowScriptAccess" value="sameDomain" /><param name="movie" value="http://www.podbean.com/podcast-audio-video-blog-player/mp3playerdarksmallv3.swf?audioPath=http://sarahandnic.podbean.com/mf/play/vv6r2w/SNPodcast1.mp3&autoStart=no" /><param name="quality" value="high" /><param name="bgcolor" value="#ffffff" /><param name="wmode" value="transparent" /><embed src="http://www.podbean.com/podcast-audio-video-blog-player/mp3playerdarksmallv3.swf?audioPath=http://sarahandnic.podbean.com/mf/play/vv6r2w/SNPodcast1.mp3&autoStart=no" quality="high" width="210" height="25" name="mp3playerdarksmallv3" align="middle" allowScriptAccess="sameDomain" wmode="transparent" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" /></embed> </object><br />
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<a href="http://www.podbean.com/" style="border-bottom: medium none; color: #2da274; font-family: arial,helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 11px; font-weight: normal; padding-left: 41px; text-decoration: none;">Podcast Powered By Podbean</a><br />
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Special thanks to The Dave (Nic's awesome and totally not stupid brother) for the mad production skills, <a href="http://www.thethomasbrotherz.com/">www.thethomasbrotherz.com</a> for use of their studio, The Hippie for recording our ridiculousness, and to anyone who actually listens to this thing. </div>Sarah and Nichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07825922786941348322noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5888237630780265818.post-83842736231588400632011-09-10T12:23:00.001-05:002011-09-10T13:47:11.446-05:00END TIMES!<span dir="ltr">There was a big giant blackout in So Cal Thursday night. Seems some tool in Yuma pulled the wrong thing. (Which sounds like a bad ending to a date, but that's a story for another time.) We had to amuse ourselves with no electricity for 10 hours without getting all shooty/stabby/rioty. It was touch and go for a while. And I'm only talking about my house.</span><br />
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It may not be much of an emergency situation to people in the Midwest or south where power outages are more common but here in San Diego, you would have thought the world was ending. People on the radio were saying things like "apocalypse" and "end times" (I'm not joking). <br />
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First up was a trip to the grocery store. Our home is almost completely unprepared for emergencies. I say "almost" because I had plenty of alcohol and cigarettes and knew where I had stashed the jumbo bag of tea lights. Food was a completely different story. So we spent about 30 minutes wandering around the dimly-lit store asking each other what kind of stuff we should get. SPAM? Tuna? Powdered milk? We ended up $116 poorer with many cans of stuff that we would not normally eat. And more whiskey.<br />
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I realized during our little foray into darkness how dependent on electricity we are for entertainment around here. It's just not something I tend to think much about, possibly because I would have to admit that I have a problem. (Hi, my name is Nic and I'm an internet addict.) But it's kind of fun to be unplugged for a bit. We swam, barbecued, played games and had actual conversations that were not about what was on television or the fact that the boys hate the music I put on.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYiyuftuoinLoPODJDvapSVtX9ohRzDioJVJUVh0rG1s_b8EsAw1bh32RCHdsoIcHia4m6B1QdyktI8XCnV0q1asYJS8caKVasJAXubm2nkMXTCCEq5dAzlVNUSsIT5fK8SYpNRGQhBOHW/s1600/lick.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYiyuftuoinLoPODJDvapSVtX9ohRzDioJVJUVh0rG1s_b8EsAw1bh32RCHdsoIcHia4m6B1QdyktI8XCnV0q1asYJS8caKVasJAXubm2nkMXTCCEq5dAzlVNUSsIT5fK8SYpNRGQhBOHW/s320/lick.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br />
I did have to put my foot down when they started coming up with other activities. Looting and playing outlet roulette with metal knives until power was restored seemed like bad ideas. <br />
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All in all, it was almost fun. Like camping but with less dirt. We learned a few valuable things, too. <br />
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The Hippie: "I learned that in a situation like that, there are no other people I'd rather be with. And to make sure the van has gas."<br />
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The Dave, well, he's sleeping, but the fact that the first thing I heard at 2:40 when power was restored was, "OH SWEET JESUS!!" means he learned that he really, really likes his air conditioner.<br />
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I learned that I can actually survive without my laptop as long as my smartphone is charged.<br />
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-NicSarah and Nichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07825922786941348322noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5888237630780265818.post-14742997852891605712011-09-07T17:48:00.000-05:002011-09-07T17:48:56.645-05:00*** Sarah Does San Diego ***<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Because I know how reading long posts about someone's vacation can make you want to stab your eye with a rusty fork and fill the socket with rubbing alcohol, I'll sum this trip up in a few sentences and photos...</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Friday Night - Flight to San Diego was delayed an hour. Had my dinner on the plane. Thank God we stopped at In-N-Out Burger on the way to Nic's from the airport.</span></div><br />
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</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Got off the plane in San Diego and after grabbing my luggage, </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">THIS walks in to greet me...</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6awHGUIMTau3LM9atBGz-0Rk21tppAlxF29oI1vEuTlZXWBStC6pM431nouPpGbod9t2-o6UtFkEf9wN49oJRuTM1xNRKB6ckxTeQomGfaTkMtStJ9xGUCaTaqCbfHBlyk03q156lXQR5/s1600/033.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" nba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6awHGUIMTau3LM9atBGz-0Rk21tppAlxF29oI1vEuTlZXWBStC6pM431nouPpGbod9t2-o6UtFkEf9wN49oJRuTM1xNRKB6ckxTeQomGfaTkMtStJ9xGUCaTaqCbfHBlyk03q156lXQR5/s320/033.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pardon the blurry but you really need to see this shit up close!</td></tr>
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</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Friday night consisted of us sitting on the patio, drinking beer, </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">and laughing our asses off.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I went to bed with my snuggle buddy, Baby Lennon, and luckily woke up the next morning before Nic blared Justin Bieber's bullshit throughout the house.</span></div><div align="center"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJE5_awFfH-qWCpW_HOlB2hGskiV558ptKyq0q3c4WjpU-iCN42Up7zgCAVYBrwc3cGXPYqXNi7cARLd4BVOiK4iaTIuOFAe7wW1kpQ98ao0L2f6fweK0lUzfS51Ha7YwCWxdfX_SOItnm/s1600/037.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" nba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJE5_awFfH-qWCpW_HOlB2hGskiV558ptKyq0q3c4WjpU-iCN42Up7zgCAVYBrwc3cGXPYqXNi7cARLd4BVOiK4iaTIuOFAe7wW1kpQ98ao0L2f6fweK0lUzfS51Ha7YwCWxdfX_SOItnm/s320/037.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Baby Lennon, aka Bitch Tits</td></tr>
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</div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Nic showed off her Martha Stewart skills and made a kickass breakfast. </span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">(Excellent work on incorporating protein, Nic!)</span></div><div align="center"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6Jy0-cPDdsdGkM-maUOc8jb9d7u30WQ1ODTAUfuGpPoL_TAQFgOcdAu427alwvmMqJ_rjPOmoec_r_Qzbtr2XuancesiwgA2E3x5BGrJomNrXxS0fHu5sDfD31_-Gj16W-tIR9OOROMzI/s1600/035.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" nba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6Jy0-cPDdsdGkM-maUOc8jb9d7u30WQ1ODTAUfuGpPoL_TAQFgOcdAu427alwvmMqJ_rjPOmoec_r_Qzbtr2XuancesiwgA2E3x5BGrJomNrXxS0fHu5sDfD31_-Gj16W-tIR9OOROMzI/s320/035.JPG" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nic can kick Martha's ass in a penis pancake contest!</td></tr>
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</div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Nic and I decided to go thrifting. We really love our new dresses. </span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Can you tell?</span></div><div align="center"><br />
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</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">After thrifting, we filled our bellies with Chipotle, </span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">then got a wild hair up our asses and got our noses pierced!</span></div><div align="center"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy2TR2dtIdtW3UWfta5eILm6IKj0KMRPQY4HnEDC1i02Gf2NOtl8c09OlJ9oyqEYYDY8BYWfB7WykIN7X1g2E3TPdMoaGGF6RIBBl1UwxrHGNUn3lTC669NiVayhp1gYpUtwuuOJSoSpds/s1600/042.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" nba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy2TR2dtIdtW3UWfta5eILm6IKj0KMRPQY4HnEDC1i02Gf2NOtl8c09OlJ9oyqEYYDY8BYWfB7WykIN7X1g2E3TPdMoaGGF6RIBBl1UwxrHGNUn3lTC669NiVayhp1gYpUtwuuOJSoSpds/s320/042.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yeah I know, you can't see the piercings well. Just pretend cuz they really are there!</td></tr>
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<div align="center"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I learned not to announce you have to take a shit while at Nic's house, or you will walk out of the bathroom and see this hanging across the doorway...</span></div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXfata_YHHwbzbFXWyV7xi1nW8RrsUdJkmi_8lJZ_pqts7rv0QFUzDNKRiuJex_IVRO366jSo6BR5u9Tg9yxEaWMqXHljQWijYBsSQft-u8wl8Pgp0t9k2zsDSTb41VWHfNXTR5tjFL-A_/s1600/048.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" nba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXfata_YHHwbzbFXWyV7xi1nW8RrsUdJkmi_8lJZ_pqts7rv0QFUzDNKRiuJex_IVRO366jSo6BR5u9Tg9yxEaWMqXHljQWijYBsSQft-u8wl8Pgp0t9k2zsDSTb41VWHfNXTR5tjFL-A_/s320/048.JPG" width="239" /></a></div><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Other things that happened that I don't have pictures of...</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">~ Waking up Sunday morning to the Macarena blaring throughout the house ~</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">~ Baby Lennon farting on me...more than once. Cat farts smell horrible!! ~</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">~ Sarah and Nic recording their first podcast.</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> ~</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">~ Nic's multiple snorts throughout the weekend from laughing too hard. ~</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">~ Sarah and Nic fertilizing the yard on the side of the house ~</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">~ The Hippie being EXTREMELY patient & sweet the entire time I was there ~</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">After Nic and The Hippie dropped me off at the airport and after many hugs and "I love yous", I made it to the line for security. As I reached in to my carry on bag for something, I found a little note tucked in the side pocked written by the one and only Nic...</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmHyH_H2wf7wiNb0OdoKANfJIdskocmkmB8tcQXpM0RdPkqzO9GkIwXaw9QWn6bVGN2AtzuCduSI2d2TDe4s22zRphzcrOnXSsVAhqRtYlavwFPVYPCpCACkBAMHmWGzzdbOXVOh76Bnub/s1600/052.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" nba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmHyH_H2wf7wiNb0OdoKANfJIdskocmkmB8tcQXpM0RdPkqzO9GkIwXaw9QWn6bVGN2AtzuCduSI2d2TDe4s22zRphzcrOnXSsVAhqRtYlavwFPVYPCpCACkBAMHmWGzzdbOXVOh76Bnub/s320/052.JPG" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I love you too, stupid wench.</td></tr>
</tbody></table> <br />
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<div align="center"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The trip was amazing, too short, and absolutely full of laughter. </span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I miss my best friend immensely and can't wait to see her ugly mug </span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">again in a few weeks!!!</span></div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">~ Sarah ~</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Sarah and Nichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07825922786941348322noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5888237630780265818.post-50273572050535051652011-09-06T23:33:00.000-05:002011-09-06T23:33:59.630-05:00Giirrrrrl...you need to take kerr of them crusty crusts!<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/gtkU2ch0sRI" width="425"></iframe><br />
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I admit...I've dyed my herr with koolaid before (shut ya lips - I was 16 years old. I didn't know any better!)<br />
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Enjoy loverlies.<br />
<br />
~ SarahSarah and Nichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07825922786941348322noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5888237630780265818.post-37631475929935782532011-09-04T23:25:00.000-05:002011-09-04T23:25:07.767-05:00Labor Day Weekend in San Diego!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmLRxaMDRVo2W9SRurd966IwkG0SSIK11_2AtzaCgboj9cDzlE0zSOJxTITe1G7A7-kvJ2Hv7Vi0Bra3rxcx7XEMjLkqa_q9f0yyrHbLmYJSPr8OQTHpU6pXjh5zb3mtjXt1GeGKLPjRGa/s1600/Underwater.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmLRxaMDRVo2W9SRurd966IwkG0SSIK11_2AtzaCgboj9cDzlE0zSOJxTITe1G7A7-kvJ2Hv7Vi0Bra3rxcx7XEMjLkqa_q9f0yyrHbLmYJSPr8OQTHpU6pXjh5zb3mtjXt1GeGKLPjRGa/s320/Underwater.JPG" width="320" xaa="true" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div align="center">I've been in San Diego since Friday visiting my bestie Nic! Picture above was taken today. The amount of laughter during my trip is fucking ridiculous!!</div><br />
<div align="center"></div><br />
<div align="center">~Sarah </div><br />
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Sarah and Nichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07825922786941348322noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5888237630780265818.post-87126903339374773962011-08-30T17:43:00.000-05:002011-08-30T17:43:48.893-05:00My first "guest blog" experience!A few months ago, I found a podcast that sucked me in from day one. Sarah and Stephanie from <a href="http://www.getmommyadrink.com/">Get Mommy a Drink</a> are f'in hilarious. Their tagline "A podcast for Moms who don't necessarily play well with others" speaks to my soul. *wink*<br />
<br />
Today they posted my guest blog story about my divorce. You can read it here - <a href="http://www.getmommyadrink.com/?p=481">How We Make Divorce Suck Just a Little Less.</a><br />
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Now I have to go referee the fight going on between my two boys over who has to pick up what toys in their room. They'd be done by now if they'd quit pissing each other off!<br />
<br />
~SSarah and Nichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07825922786941348322noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5888237630780265818.post-77870943571505725972011-08-29T23:09:00.000-05:002011-08-29T23:09:38.726-05:00SMKS (Shit My Kids Say)...My 8yo son to my 4yo son as we get ready to leave this morning...<br />
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"If you fart in the car, I will beat you like a baby seal."<br />
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<br />
~ Sarah ~<br />
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PS...I *swear* that he didn't learn this one from me. I admit that most of the shit that comes out of their mouths is my fault but NOT THIS ONE!!Sarah and Nichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07825922786941348322noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5888237630780265818.post-32085089040895125452011-08-15T16:07:00.003-05:002011-08-30T12:06:12.793-05:00Baby WantsI don't have kids. It has nothing to do with not liking children or having a career that they would interrupt, and no, I'm not *whisper* infertile. The truth is, I don't want kids. Most of the time.<br />
A few weeks ago, I met Sarah's boys via Skype. Holy hell. We had show-and-tell time with Uncle Paul and Auntie Nic. (Auntie Nic. Sigh.) We talked about baseball and hockey and there was much giggling. Interacting with bright, inquisitive kids always makes me wonder what kind of mom I would have been. Because of course, any child of mine would be way above average. The kid sitting in the dirt staring blankly at nothing, eating his boogers with one hand, his other hand down his pants, for some reason, never puts these thoughts into my head. Kids who are fun and funny and rambunctious are a different story.<br />
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That night I had a dream that I had a baby. Usually when I dream I have a baby it will go something like this: I come home from work, pour myself a drink and go about my normal business when OH MY GOD! I FORGOT I HAVE A BABY AND LEFT IT UNDER THE COFFEE TABLE AND FORGOT TO FEED IT! I wake up in a cold sweat and am relieved to discover that no, I don't need to wait for CPS to come knocking on my door. This time though, everything was perfect. I was sitting in a rocking chair with my tiny infant who was all happy and content. Because that's how they are all the time, right? The next morning, I woke up with a bad case of the baby wants.<br />
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Before I go any further, I should note that I am 36. My husband is 20 years my senior with three adult children. We have three grandchildren and another on the way. I'm not exactly in a position at this point in my life to be entertaining thoughts of bringing a child into the world. But there I was, laying in bed, wondering what it would be like to have a little one snuggled up next to me.<br />
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It seems that anytime the baby wants strike, there are suddenly adorable, well behaved kids everywhere. For the next week, I fought off tears every time I saw a little one, and there were a lot of little ones.<br />
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That Saturday, we were invited to the neighbors for a party and not being ones to turn down good food and booze, we accepted.<br />
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I ended up very soon after arrival being greeted by the neighbors' 7 year old who requested my presence in the bouncy castle. FUCK. "Okay," I thought, "not a problem. They will be obnoxious because they are unsupervised and hyped up on soda and sugar." Nope. They wanted to tell me stories and show me their acrobatic feats. After about 45 minutes of a group of 4-10 year olds jumping on my ovaries, I needed a breather. (By that, I mean alcohol and a distraction.) I excused myself, grabbed a beer and found my husband who was involved in a very animated discussion about Mariachi vs. Polka music. My mind now completely off the kids, I'm starting to relax when the 7 year old comes over where we talking and says to my neighbor, "MOM! J is crying and asking for you!" I turned to my neighbor and said, "You stay with your guests, I'll take care of it, don't worry." The 7 year old takes my hand and leads me back into the bouncy castle where I find her brother sobbing. I sit down next to him and ask him what's wrong. More crying. "Are you hurt?" Crying. "It's a little overwhelming in here, do you want to get out?" Still crying. "Why don't you get on my shoulders and I'll take you to your mom?" Jesus, do kids get tired of crying? "She is just over there! We can get out and run right to her!" No dice.<br />
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I'm starting to panic a bit, when I realize there is something wet running up my leg. Suddenly, my ass is soaking wet.<br />
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I go home feeling pretty good about the fact that an inconsolable 5 year old and some kid pee has staved off the baby wants. I would clearly suck at the Mom thing if I can't handle those two things.<br />
A few days later, I get this:<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeDJwJPhuiej2gXiuzhNy1cykEvkpqvbweMjSfDJgvh8__DNkvfPtTD8Lwm2CTIprSnE-Avu8P6cAYnCRLZzjJCpe51TaJF0PMJ9q7R45z-jM9sQTzsJKKE6lJQUwv0P5ZKIR4BeozkXTX/s1600/s%2526j.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeDJwJPhuiej2gXiuzhNy1cykEvkpqvbweMjSfDJgvh8__DNkvfPtTD8Lwm2CTIprSnE-Avu8P6cAYnCRLZzjJCpe51TaJF0PMJ9q7R45z-jM9sQTzsJKKE6lJQUwv0P5ZKIR4BeozkXTX/s320/s%2526j.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
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Fucking Sarah.<br />
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-Nic <br />
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Sarah and Nichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07825922786941348322noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5888237630780265818.post-42178847945295952682011-08-14T00:50:00.003-05:002011-08-14T14:00:46.297-05:00~ Mixology with S&N ~Nic and I are far from liquor snobs. We like top shelf liquor and premium beer but if left up to us, we prefer bar pours and cheap beer. Why? Cuz you get more that way. DER.<br />
<br />
Instead of trying expensive drinks, wines, and beer, we decided to stay true to ourselves and promote our own version of liquor reviews - cheap drinks baby!<br />
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Now, I'm a beer drinking girl. I rarely drink mixed drinks. Beer is just easier and always tasty. However, one of my friends was drinking a delicious concoction last weekend - vodka lemonade.<br />
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But not your usual vodka lemonade.<br />
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It was grape vodka and crystal light.<br />
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It was a party in my mouth.<br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/66381571@N06/6040807110/" title="VodkaLemonade by SarahandNic, on Flickr"><img alt="VodkaLemonade" height="200" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6187/6040807110_27dcfced92.jpg" width="200" /></a><br />
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It's a yummy yet cheap summer drink and it is also low-cal for those watching their weight. <br />
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~ Sarah<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/66381571@N06/6040840686/" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="SarahSig by SarahandNic, on Flickr"></a>Sarah and Nichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07825922786941348322noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5888237630780265818.post-80822668481167095262011-08-13T17:53:00.009-05:002011-08-14T14:00:00.383-05:00The internet isn't just about porn and Facebook...It can be about kick ass friendships.<br />
<br />
Nic and I met seven years ago...online. <br />
<br />
We finally met in person in March 2010. <br />
<br />
We connected in such a way that didn't require us to sit on each other's face. Out of this online friendship came a stronger "in real life" friendship that continues to grow despite our distance.<br />
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We cannot have a serious conversation without one of us belching, farting, or making a sex joke. It breaks the ice. It's what we do.<br />
<br />
We have ideas.<br />
<br />
Good God do we have ideas.<br />
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Whether these ideas will come to fruition is unknown.<br />
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But we have ideas.<br />
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What we DO know is that we will have a podcast. What we do NOT know is how to do this podcast living 2,000 miles apart but I know that it CAN be done. We aren't the most tech savvy of broads but we will find a way to make this work.<br />
We apologize in advance if you don't find us funny. We think we are hilarious and the key word here is THINK. We have a lot to say and are frankly tired of listening to each other talk . Why not make the rest of the interwebs listen? <br />
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We are just getting started so the afterbirth is still dripping off this blog. Keep your eyes and ears peeled for whats to come. We talk about everything from sex to scrapbooking, marriage to stand-up comedians, current events to funny pictures of cats. Like our masthead says, we are are the A.D.D. of blogs. You don't know what you'll get any given day so keep stopping by. We will make your jaw drop at one point or another.<br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/66381571@N06/6042272923/" title="SarahandNic by SarahandNic, on Flickr"><img alt="SarahandNic" height="200" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6121/6042272923_c0c02e0ed0.jpg" width="200" /></a><br />
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~ Sarah & NicSarah and Nichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07825922786941348322noreply@blogger.com1