She walks, she talks, she crawls on her belly like a reptile. She's almost human. It's.....THE OPTO-MOM!!!

Monday, October 31, 2011

Happy Hallow-Christma-Giving

I’m so confused. (Yeah, there’s a shocker.)

Is it Christmas already? Did I sleep through Halloween and Thanksgiving, or did we just skip all that shit and go straight to the Ho Ho Ho Season?

Oh, it’s Halloween today? Well, ya could knock me over with a feather, because I went to The Wal-Mart looking for some Halloween stuff, and thought I had stepped into a Winter-fucking-Wonderland.

There were Christmas dresses and wreaths and lights and various holiday doo-dads all over the place. And hidden behind a lovely selection of Hickory Farms Holiday meat baskets, I finally found 2 bags of low-budget Halloween candy (you know, the kind with mostly those crappy-tasting jawbreakers?), a Superman cape, and a hooker wig.

Luckily, I already had a costume for Miss Smarty Britches and myself (so that hooker wig's still available, ladies!). We took part in a haunted birthday party last weekend. MSB was the Grim Reaper, and I was a zombie.
Just add red lipstick, and I'm Courtney Love!
We really had a lot of fun scaring the shit out of little kids. Yeah, we’re mean.

The kids went on a “haunted” walk through the woods. MSB was up in a treehouse, so it looked like she was floating, and she threw plastic spiders on the kids when they walked past her.

They stuck my ass out in the woods by some fake headstones with a spooky light. I laid down in front of the headstones, and my cousin dumped two trash bags full of leaves on me.

When the kids walked by, I stuck my hand up out of those leaves, and the screaming and crying began! WooooHoooo! I fucking ROCK as a zombie! Then I limped after them a la Jason Vorhees, eliciting even more peewee panic.

So, tonight MSB is trick-or-treating with my sister and her two-year-old, who is the cutest stinking li’l cowboy EVER!

And I’m at home with more than 5 minutes to myself, so I decided to grace you with a Halloween blog post.

Now, last Halloween I did a post about how all of the female costumes were slutty, naughty, or sexy. I suggest you read it HERE, or my zombie self will come to your house and eat your brains.

This year, I've decided to post about what some of you people do to your poor dogs every Halloween. That's right....doggie costumes! Along with what I think these pups would say to their owners if they could talk.

"I hope you get warts."

"Somebody better save me a turkey leg."

"A cat?  You dressed me up as a fucking cat?"

"I'm a wild and craaaazy guy!"

"What are the guys down at the park gonna say?"

"Oh yeah.  I'm cooking you up something REAL nice.  Check your shoe in the morning."

"I couldn't be Toto.  Nooooo, I've gotta be that skipping bitch Dorothy!"


"The bitches love a baller!"

"I'm the bride, and this is MY day!  I said I wanted roses, not no cheap ass daisies!  It's MY DAY, DAMMIT!"

"Kiss my ass.  Really."
"I'm really more of a jeans kind of girl."

"Garsh, our owners are creative...NOT!"

"I am Bark Vader."

"Shit on your rug, I will."
"I bit the sheriff...."
"What do you mean you don't know nuthin' 'bout birthin' no puppies?"

"I never get my own costume!  I always have to wear my cousin, the chihuahua's hand-me-downs.  NO quiero Taco Bell!"
"What am I, Jurassic Bark?"

"I am SO chewing your hat later, sailor boy."

"Yeah, I'm Paula Deen's dog."
"Slash can't rock out without his hat and guitar.  Bring me my fucking hat and guitar!"
"Hey, Marmaduke.  Wassup, big boy?"

"Weiner dogs dressed as hot dogs:  yep, that's original."

"Pimpin' ain't easy."
"You've jacked my hair all up.  Do you have any idea how much my salon charges?"
"But I'm not even a hound dog!"

"Have the lambs stopped crying, Clarice?"
So, there you go.  Hope you enjoyed this year's Halloween post.  And for cripe's sake, just let your doggie be a doggie!

Tuesday, October 18, 2011

Dear Opto-Mom: Babies, Divorces, and Chauffeurs

Are you ready for a new edition of Dear Opto-Mom? Of course you are!

Just a reminder: These are actual questions taken from Dear Abby articles, but instead of including Abby's wise and trusted advice, I have included my own politically-UNcorrect opinions.

DEAR OPTO-MOM: Our daughter "Bree" has just announced that she's pregnant with her third child. Her other children are 1 and 2. My wife and I are in our 60s and provide child care three days a week, while the other grandma baby-sits for two days. We also pay for preschool and swimming lessons, as well as cook dinner for them on the days when we baby-sit.

Bree and her husband do not earn enough money to support even one child. We know we'll be expected to finance college for the children. When we agreed to help out, we asked them to promise they would not have more than two kids. This third one will cause us to use up our savings, increase our child care responsibilities and take us into our 80s to continue helping. Is it wrong to feel used? I am very depressed over this. -- OVERWHELMED IN SAN DIEGO

DEAR OVERWHELMED: I suggest that you and your wife move to Tahiti. Send the kids 20 bucks on their birthday and enjoy your retirement. Maybe if Bree has to take care of her own children for once, she will keep her legs together and her drawers pulled up.
DEAR OPTO-MOM: I'm going through a divorce and have decided not to begin dating until it's final. I'm doing this because I wouldn't be comfortable dating someone who is still married. I told myself I would politely explain this to any gentleman who asks me out, but no one has -- and I'm a little bothered by it. No one approaches me at all. I don't wear my ring and I consider myself to be a very attractive person.

I have had several boyfriends throughout my life, and looking back at them and my marriage, I realize that I was the first to show an interest and ask them out. I'd like it if a guy approached me and made the first move. I'm worried that when I'm ready to date it won't happen. I understand that approaching a stranger is a little unnerving, but I'm beginning to take it personally.

Please don't suggest going to activities outside the home to meet people. I work and go to school full-time, so that's not an option anytime soon. -- LOOKING FOR A DATE --IN THE FUTURE

DEAR LOOKING: You probably have either bad breath or body odor. Have you done the underarm-sniff and the breathe-in-your-hand test? Try this: Go to the Occupy Wall Street protest and maybe some 25-year-old will invite you back to his mom’s basement to have sex. Just make sure to tell him you hate capitalism while wearing designer jeans and making calls on your iPhone and eating Ben and Jerry’s.

Otherwise, I’m not sure exactly what you want. You seem to be upset because no one is asking you out so you can tell them, ‘NO.”
DEAR OPTO-MOM: My fiance, "Johnny," and I have been together for four years and engaged for 16 months. Our wedding is in a few months. Until recently, Johnny didn't have access to a car. That means for the past four years I have done all the driving, including visiting him at school two hours from my home every three to four weeks.

It didn't bother me because it was out of Johnny's control; his money went to pay for his education. However, because he has a car now, I feel it's reasonable to ask that he do most -- though not all -- of the driving. We live in the same town now and our homes are a mile apart.

Johnny seems to take offense at the suggestion and acts as if I am "punishing" him. I'm not, but I'm tired of driving all the time and would like a break now that he can give me one. What do you think? -- AT THE WHEEL AGAINST MY WILL

DEAR PUSHOVER: Tell Johnny to grow the fuck up. You’re not a chauffeur. If you want a more subtle approach, call him “Miss Daisy” and make him ride in the backseat. Make sure to wear a uniform with one of those snappy chauffeur hats...

*Disclaimer - Please note that Opto-Mom is not a licensed therapist, and you should not take her advice under most circumstances. If you do decide that Opto-Mom's advice is right for you, side effects may include: divorce, headache, being fired from your job, getting shot, getting stabbed, diarrhea, being waterboarded, getting arrested, loss of limb(s), psoriasis, death, separation from your children, syphilis, and being charged with tax evasion.

Tuesday, October 11, 2011

Dear Opto-Mom: Hookers, Thieves, and Air Travelers

I was really bored the other night, so I started reading Dear Abby online. Yes, my life has officially sunk to a new level of pathetic-ness.

Anyway, I noticed that all of Abby's answers were so vapid and uninspiring, so I felt the need to take those same questions and provide my own answers.

Get ready for some brilliant insight, with this, the first episode of DEAR OPTO-MOM!


DEAR OPTO-MOM:  My mother and I had a debate about who should pay for dates. She thinks the man should pay, especially if sex is involved because "you don't want to give it away for free."

I disagree. I say the man should pay for the first, and maybe the second date. After that, they can agree to alternate.

I have been seeing a wonderful guy for about six months. I'm pretty sure I make more money than he does, but even if I didn't, I don't feel the need to be supported. I don't agree the guy should always have to pay. Times have changed since my mother dated. What's the general consensus on the subject these days? -- INDEPENDENT WOMAN IN MARYLAND

Dear Independent: I think your mom is calling you a hooker. Seriously. Don’t talk to her anymore. Personally, I say let him pay, and you save your money and buy some new hooker shoes.

DEAR OPTO-MOM:  I go to movies occasionally with my niece "Connie" and her two kids. Although the theater has a sign "No Outside Food or Drinks Allowed," Connie sneaks snacks in in her oversized purse, then doles them out after the lights go down. I'm not talking about a couple of candy bars; she brings bags of candy, chips and cans of soda.

While I agree with my niece that the price of refreshments is outrageous, I also believe it's the theater operators' prerogative to set prices and policy. I suggested Connie skip the snacks during the movie and take the kids out for ice cream afterward, but she said she didn't want to "deprive" them. When I offered to pay, she said it wasn't about the money, it was "the principle, and besides, "everybody else does it."

I feel my niece is teaching her kids it's OK to break rules you find inconvenient as long as you can get away with it. I enjoy the outings with them so I've dropped the subject for the sake of harmony, but it still bothers me. Connie probably thinks I'm a critical old crank who's out of step with the times. I'd love your opinion. -- PAYING FOR MY POPCORN IN OREGON

Dear Popcorn: Good Lawd! Are you always this uptight and bitchy? If your niece brings Junior Mints to the movies, I’ll go with her!

DEAR OPTO-MOM:  Just a quick question regarding airline flying etiquette. What would be the proper way to handle a situation where the flight attendant comes around to serve refreshments and the person next to you is napping? Would it be appropriate to give him a little nudge when the attendant gets to your row, or just order your own and let the person be skipped over? -- UP IN THE AIR IN MASSACHUSETTS

Dear Airhead: No, you should sing “Super Freak” until he wakes up. Start quietly and gradually increase your volume until you’re at full voice during the chorus.  If he still doesn't wake up, steal his pretzels.

*Disclaimer - Please note that Opto-Mom is not a licensed therapist, and you should not take her advice under most circumstances.  If you do decide that Opto-Mom's advice is right for you, side effects may include:  divorce, headache, being fired from your job, getting shot, getting stabbed, diarrhea, being waterboarded, getting arrested, loss of limb(s), psoriasis, death, separation from your children, gonorrhea, and being charged with tax evasion.

Tuesday, October 4, 2011

Holy $*@#. Am I Really This Old?

Oh no! Say it ain’t so!

The Opto-Mom is… is… 40?

Yep, it’s true.  My birthday was in September, but I've just now gotten up the courage to admit it.

This was me about 40 years ago:
All together now....."Awwwwww!"

And this is me today:
Fabulous at Forty!

On this prestigious occasion, shall we take a look back through the adventurous life of one silly Opto-Mom? Yes, yes. I think we shall.

Before I could even walk, I managed to climb up the drawer handles next to the refrigerator, and when my mom came back from the bathroom, I was sitting ON TOP of the refrigerator. This was only the beginning of my exploits and, therefore, a life of boisterous merriment for my parents.

When I was a toddler, my cousins and I would sneak into the refrigerator and eat butter right from the stick. Our moms would come in and there would be tiny little tooth prints in the butter.

From the ages of 5-7, I was obsessed with hair. I once took a round brush and rolled it up all the way to my scalp, at which point it got tangled and stuck there. It took 6 hours and 2 hairdressers to get it unwound. I also enjoyed cutting hair…mine and any friends or cousins who dared to get near me when I was wielding a pair of scissors.

My childhood home was right near the railroad tracks, so I adapted by sleeping VERY soundly.  My parents would hear a THUNK in the middle of the night, and when they got up to investigate, I would be curled up on the floor beside my bed, still fast asleep.  Also, I could sleep through a smoke alarm, which would inevitably go off every time my mom made gravy for breakfast.

When I was about 8, I wanted to sing “The Devil Went Down To Georgia” at church because I thought it highlighted the triumph of good over evil.

My sister is 12 years younger than me, and when she was a baby, I accidentally threw her in the ceiling fan.  This has had far-reaching implications on her mental status, with which we are still dealing today.

My mom always told me that if I had questions about sex, to ask her. So I talked to her once about a rumor that was going around school. I asked her if it was true that if you sneezed 3 times in a row, it was the same feeling as when you are “doing it” and have an orgasm. She replied, “Apparently, SOMEBODY'S ‘doing it’ wrong.”

Well, now that I've either bored or entertained you with my lifetime anecdotes, I guess I'll go take a nap.  You know, we old middle-aged people need our beauty sleep!