PEOPLE ARE DEPRAVED! DEPRAVED I SAY!

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Posted by muffintopmommy | Posted in Awesomeness, Boys, boys, boys! And did I mention, boys?, Uncategorized | Posted on 27-02-2013

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You know, if I can’t figure out how to make millions blogging to realize my dream of flopping in a hammock oceanside while cabana boys bring me adult beverages, damnit, at least I have the depraved search terms (we’ve talked about this before!) people Google to wind up on my blog. And! The occasional ridonkulously wrongity comment that slips through the spam filter? (Spam filter—kind of like birth control–not always 100% effective! What? Who can’t use a friendly reminder?)

This potential MUFFIN TOP PORN STAR (oh you read that right and hellz yeah I’m screaming–I had to scrub myself in Clorox after I read that search term–after I pondered ever so briefly if I could make enough dough at it for my hammock by the sea scheme…..) got a good one yesterday on an old blog post about American girl dolls:

Dating or being married to an American woman is like driving a beat-up Ford Escort. If you are only used to driving a beat-up Ford Escort, then you have no idea what it feels like when you drive a Bentley or Ferrari. You need to at least test-drive a Ferrari, so you’ll have a reference point on what a real car feels like. ,

OH HELL NO! (And yes, the author of said comment is an obvious friend to grammar, what with that needless, random comma at the end. But we’ll let that slide, because she was clearly so passionate that she didn’t notice her error!)

Then? “Inge” goes on to post a link to a site that sounds like it’s about clearing up age spots on your face.

What the farfignugen?!!! Beatch, get off mah blog and take your shitty Euro cream with you!

Oh Inge! No. Foreign women are lovely, indeed, but as a born and bred proud American woman, I will redirect you to my size 8 (formerly size 7–graci-ass pregnancy parting gift!) American shoe up your age-spotless arse.

The hell we be beat up Ford Escorts! Might I remind you of many fine American women…..Christie Brinkley, Brooke Shields, Diane (please refer to a little ditty about a well known American debutante…from the back of Jackie’s car?), Mrs. Huxtable, Mrs. Brady (boom boom!), Lindsey Vonn, the Where’s the Beef lady (hey, what ever happened to her?), Dr. Ruth, suburban cougars, chics who do CrossFit, Walmart shoppers….ME! ————->

FORD ESCORT MY MUFFIN TOP! DON'T HATE ME BECAUSE I'M BEAUTIFUL!

I will add, you have a hell of a sales pitch. You must sell lots of age spot cream. To lepers. In Fuzzschmuckastan.

To the rest of you who visit my blog and are wondering:

Where to put scout badges? On your arse? So people will notice them?

What the best undergarments are for muffin tops? Do I look like I know?

Where to get Diet Coke posters? Seriously??? I love me some Diet Coke but it hasn’t made its way into my Muffin Top DIY design scheme yet….

What’s up with my wife’s muffin top? You probably drove her to drink, buttrash. What’s up with your small….never mind. 

Granny sex face? <———–That’s a special kind of sick. 

Vintage hot daddies? Well now you have my rapt attention. Tell me more! Beav’s dad was kinda hot. Shut up. 

Adam Levine ethnicity? Oooh! I know that one! Is hotsexybeast an ethnicity?

I am not fat, but have a muffin top? Well, that sucks sister. Don’t ever play the lottery. Your odds blow.

 

Bring it, Internet. I ain’t hitting the beach with the cabana boys anytime soon!

 

PSST….IS THAT A VINTAGE GOSSIP BENCH OR A MOMMY’S TIME OUT CHAIR?

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Posted by muffintopmommy | Posted in Awesomeness, Boys, boys, boys! And did I mention, boys?, Friends...you got what I ne-ed, Mom-ness, OH &^%$!!, Retail Therapy, Some things just don't fit into a neat little box. The uncategory! | Posted on 31-01-2013

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Have you ever heard the words?

Gossip bench.

If that alone doesn’t intrigue you just fuhget it and get off mah lawn now!

A gossip bench, or telephone table, are gems from a time gone by. Basically, it’s a chair attached to a little table. Way, WAY (and by way, way, I’m really not sure how long, lemme be honest) before cordless phones were even a thought in some MIT trained brain and people couldn’t yuk it up in every corner of the house, people had beauties just like this:

ONCE AGAIN, I NEED SOME PHOTOGRAPHY 411 BUT YOU GET THE IDEA. ISN'T SHE GRAND?

 

Look at this lovely detailing:

THAT'S THE WAY, UH HUH, UH HUH, I LIKE IT, KC AND THE SUNSHINE BAND!

 

So the rotary phone went on top of the table part, and the phone book went underneath. And the gossipy hausfrau’s arse went on the seat. Amen. I really wish that table could talk. How many incredible conversations might have gone on? I believe this table might be from the 40′s, so my imagination runs wild thinking about it. A GI calling his girlfriend? A mom calling her newlywed daughter to share recipes? Two teenagers talking about what—I don’t even know what?! Two gossipy hausfraus talking about seeing so and so’s daughter at the five and dime with a too short skirt? WHO KNOWS!

All I know is I love this random piece of furniture! And hubs loved me enough to schlep it for me from some guy I found…wait for it….on Craigslist. A man who…let me just say, hubs said after picking up this piece of history, “I don’t want to speak of it again. Sanford and Sons. Without fun Sanford. Or his son.”

Okay then.

For better or worse, people. We took vows!!!

The wood on this table was actually in pretty good shape–you can’t see too well from my iphone trick photography, but it wasn’t the best stain job. All I did was unscrew the seat and slap two coats of miracle Annie Sloan chalk paint in the same Chateau Grey shade I used on my sideboard redo. It took no time at all.

SCALPEL, PLEASE. HA HA. JUST A PHILLIPS HEAD. I FIGURED IT OUT---THIS ISN'T BRAIN SURGERY, KIDS!

 

I bought some fun, sturdy (yet elegant!), upholstery grade fabric at Hobby (I love you!) Lobby, cut a square, and stapled it. I have skillz. (Not really. Noooo.)

WE MEET AGAIN, RUDOLPH SCISSORS!

THIS PART IS ROUGH. PAY ATTENTION. YOU FLIP THE CUSHION OVER, PUT IT OVER THE CHAIR FRAME, AND SCREW IT BACK IN. NEXT WEEK I''M TOTALLY APPLYING TO GRAD SKOOL AT HARVARD.

Before I put the cushion on permanently, I did wax and buff it so it would have a softer, less…well, chalky finish. I did distress it lightly as well.

So here are some pics of the almost finished product:

THIS WAS PRE-WAX AND DISTRESS.

 

I PUFFY HEART THIS FABRIC.

 

And…..now my gossip bench is ready for some 21st century action. I have actually renamed it the Chatty Kathy bench or Mommy’s Time Out chair. I love my kids, you love your kids, all of us who have kids LOVE OUR KIDS. But sometimes, they are ginormous PITAS! (Pains in the asses. You’re welcome.) At which point, we need an escape. Well, the French New Hampshire riviera is not always possible. I give you, Mommy’s Time Out Chair:

PEEP, A KINDLE, SOME VINO. YES, I DO BELIEVE THIS IS THE RECIPE FOR SOME MODERN DAY GOSSIP. I FEEL PROUD TO UPHOLD ITS HERITAGE IN A MODERN WAY!

YES, PLEASE.

 

ONE MORE SHOT. BECAUSE YOU KNOW I DIDN'T GET TO REALLY SIT FOR THAT LONG!

 

The funny thing is, with all of my recent Craiglisting, and seeing what these go for redone (and even not redone) on Etsy, Ebay, and Craigslist, I planned to sell the Chatty Kathy. But hubs —who wouldda thunk?? Has taken a shine to it and asked me not to sell it. What!? I know.

However, if you are reading this and you have a pocket full of cash burning a hole in your pocket, I will totally cut it free behind hub’s back  (For better or worse, people!) for the right price. Because the French Riviera Disneyworld is calling my name!