So I bought a used Bananarama CD (kiss my arse, people) and as a result I was in the kitchen singing, "I'm your Venus, I'm your fire at your desire." I was dancing around while measuring out my food (more on that in a sec) when my five-year-old daughter comes out and says, "That's gross what you said!" I say, "HUH?!" She replies, "You said, 'I'm your penis!'".

So I told her that no, Momma said VE-nus. Then when she left the room I laughed hysterical with my 14 & 11 year-old sons.

I put on my bathing suit. I have no arse. It has melted into my thighs. As I emailed a very good friend of mine, I am amazed at the amount of cellulite and fat that amassed on my ass during my winter hibernation. I must go now and do 1,000 squats and 1,000 lunges.

I am "to snack cakes, what Einstein was to nuclear physics" declared my bear on Friday. You see, another friend of mine had back surgery (her second in three weeks) and was on super drugs (she doesn't share well). The Xanax makes her crave chocolate. So off I was on the way to get her Ho-Ho's and brownie mix (she wanted the batter, not the actually brownies). So in the car on the phone with Bear I say that Ho-Ho's and Swiss Cake Rolls were the same. He had the audacity to say I. Was. Wrong.

We were discussing snack cakes. Saying *I* don't know what Swiss Cakes Rolls are is like saying Clinton didn't have sex with that woman (need another cigar there, Billy Boy?).

So after about five minutes Bear gets on the net. "Uh-oh" he says. He actually said uh-oh. HE had confused Swiss Cake Rolls with Zebra Cakes...two totally different beasts: Swiss Cake Rolls are chocolate cake rolled up with creamy filling and coating in chocolate...like Ho-Ho's, while Zebra Cakes are two layers of yellow cake with cream in between that are covered in WHITE coating with some chocolate lines on top (thus the name ZEBRA Cakes). They also have a salty sweet taste to them while Swiss Cakes Rolls are just plain sweet.

My knowledge of snack cakes is not to be questioned. Herein lies the reason my arse has melted into my thighs.

I've come up with a snazzy new nick-name for Bear's dog. Seeing how he's constantly getting out into the mud and getting burs stuck in his long thick fur which then TOTALLY mats up, I've decided to call him Nappy Headed Ho Dog. I realize that "ho" isn't typically used for males, BUT I've decided it works for this dog. Besides, once we get his balls cut off he'll be an it anyway SO it won't matter.

He doesn't appear to be traumatized by this new term of endearment which is a good thing. I wouldn't want to have Animal Planet or the Dog Whisperer get pissed off.

Till next time...