You'll Learn To Keep House

Hey 19

2011-07-25T12:21:00.001-07:00

M is 19 months old. That's right, internettes. It has been nineteen months since This Joo pushed that bad boy out of her ladybits whilst surrounded by a veritable crowd of well-wishers. At 19 months M - a.k.a The Otter/The Bird/The Little Gray Mouse/The Little Brown Louse/The Grouchy Gray Grouse- amuses this Joo with his daily antics of telling EVERY DOG IN THE NEIGHBORHOOD TO "HUSH", saying "no" to everyone else, and having Autistic-like fascinations with bubbles (which he asks for fifty times a day).

No, he's not yet sleeping through the night. And, yes, he's still nursing. KEEP YOUR LAWS OFF MY BODY. Wha?

This Summer Sucks My Balls and Your Balls

2011-07-21T10:22:00.000-07:00

please note the casts and the red streak in A's hair

Just for the record this summer has been nothing but a giant pain in the ass for me and my charming offspring. Esquire, however, is having the summer of dreams what with his training runs for the 50 mile race he is doing in August. You read it right. I know. Kill me first. The first memo received early summer was to let me that my first born is oops deaf. Great. So it wasn't my imagination that for the last three months I was having to put a bullhorn up to her ear and yell into it through a microphone for her to hear me. Alleriges...tubes...and we have hearing. Oh and she is allergic to everything. Including your balls. Next J also had to have a set of the tubes put in. Check. No more ear infections. And then...the biggest of all balls...B catapulted herself out our living room window. Perhaps some of you recall A doing this 3 years ago. Well I clearly didn't learn any lessons from that so I have continued to keep my windows open. Sure enough I was just getting into the tub with J when A started screaming and then...oh God...oh shit...oh big, fat balls...running outside completely naked, picking B up, B passing out, me screaming to get the neighbors, calling Esquire, going to ER, being admitted, and two broken arms and a concussion and strangely no visit from CPS. There my friends is what a shitty summer includes. Oh and just to add to the glory we are going camping for a week. Ha.

Weeeeeeeee're Baaaaaaaaaaaaack

2011-06-17T13:03:00.001-07:00

These Joos apologize for their long absence. They were saving baby seals in Afghanistan. Or something.

To recap the last few months, the little bungalow is done (more later on that), the Joos are joos, and B fell out a window and broke her head and both arms (but is otherwise fine).

And we promise to be better about posting if you'll just give us half a chance in the future. Aw, baby, don' be like that. Come on'. Give Jooie some sugar...

"I'm Not Finished"

2011-03-16T06:33:00.001-07:00

As Edward Scissorhands famously said to the Avon lady who discovered him, the little house is not yet finished. But we're getting there. Really.

This has been an eye-opening experience. In the course of rehabbing the little house, this Joo has learned all kinds of things that she, the experienced bungalow drooler, did not know. For instance, didst thou know that unglazed porcelain hex tile still exists? It does. And it's not too expensive from your local big box tile store. Didst thou know that a vintage wall sink from the 1930's can be had at a salvage yard in the Midwest for around $15? It can. Also, red oak floors simply coated with oil-based polyurethane turn the color of red oak floors covered with varnish 100 years ago. TRUE STORY.

All this and much, much more await this Joo in the Little House That Could. Move-in is scheduled for March 26. NO FOOLING.

fin

Dance Hall Days, Love

2011-02-16T16:54:00.000-08:00

Thanks to Past Perfect, historic preservation consultants, I tracked down the above article, written during the construction of the little bungalow in 1910 and published in the local paper. This article confirms that the little bungie is not a kit house, but rather constructed and planned by a local builder.

While this is very cool, perhaps what is most cool is the description of the second floor, "...the second story is left entire, to be used as a gymnasium, dance hall, or anything else that the owners may desire." Take your baby by the hand indeed!

Jooapalooza Day 1

2011-02-12T18:24:00.001-08:00

M and Little Ju's wardrobes are provided by Pewabic Pottery, Detroit, Michigan.

Imported From Detroit

2011-02-07T14:15:00.000-08:00

So, it's not often that this Joo speaks of football or cars, but a car company aired a commercial during the Bowl of Supers that deserves kudos. Chrysler's homage to the D, as these Joos affectionately refer to Detroit, made this Joo all shivery.

Those who know these Joos know that the Joos love Detroit in all its squalor, which is why they have chosen the D for the first annual Jooapalooza next weekend.

So, bravo Chrysler! Detroit needed the publicity (and you probably did too).

Jooapalooza

2011-02-03T18:48:00.000-08:00

The brainchild of Joos' Addiction (to hardware), the first annual Jooapalooza is scheduled for next weekend. Jooapalooza attendees can expect a tour of Pewabic Pottery in Detroit, shopping for hardware for the little bungie that could, and much, much more. Sorry, folks. Jooapalooza is open to nursing Joos and their nursing babies only. And, yes, I'm still nursing M. STOP ASKING ME THAT. WHY IS EVERYONE SO OBSESSED WITH MY BOOBS?

fin

Kitty Kitty Kitty?

2011-01-19T17:30:00.001-08:00

Having seen a few bungies nearly identical to the little bungie that could(n't), this Joo had been trying to find plans for a kit house that match. While it's possible this was just a builder's designed that was re-used, this Joo suspects otherwise. Anyone out there in cyberland a kit house expert? Can you play the memory game with this house? Rumor has it the LBTC was built in 1915, although that date has not been verified by this Joo. The layout is: entry, then right to living room, straight back to dining, then kitchen (half of which could've been a porch at one time). On the left are two beds, a small bath, and a hall leading to the upstairs.

INQUIRING JOOS WANNA KNOW.

El Peso Pit-o

2011-01-18T10:56:00.000-08:00

Being a jet-setter has its disadvantages, namely, this Joo can't recall how up-to-speed the Internettes are on Mrs. Blandjoo's Dream House. Demolition has been completed, and the worker bees are busy reinforcing the attic so the whole thing doesn't fall on this Joo's head. The good news is that work is progressing. The bad news is that the demolition uncovered still more work that lies ahead. Therefore, it looks as if this Joo will be not be living in the Little Bungalow That Could(n't) until April at the very latest.

In other news, Good Joos kidneys continue to revolt, and it looks as though she will again be going under the knife. For what? These Joos know not. When? These Joos know not. Perhaps this surgery has something to do with Good Joo's super secret dick http://youlllearntokeephouse.blogspot.com/2009/10/joos-dick.html . Perhaps not. Stay tuned for the next installment to find out.

The Phrench

2011-01-04T01:16:00.000-08:00

Despite this Joo's rather intimate association with the Phrench, they never cease to amaze me. Although prior to the present visit, I vaguely recalled that the Phrench enjoy a scented toilet paper, I had forgotten this little factoid. The dirty foreigner and his family seemed to have risen above the hint of "lack of indoor plumbing"ness of that particular affinity, and appeared to choose only plain, unscented (albeit always pink) toilet paper. Until now.

Who knew. Who knew that anyone, and I mean anyone, would ever want their ladybits (or gentbits as the case may be) to smell like a peach candle? Hmm? And when this Joo went out on the interwebs to find illustrations for this particular entry, she found that toilet paper in France is available in a dizzying array of disgusting scents, including without limitation mandarin orange, strawberry, lilac, ad nauseum. And, for those who "want to give themselves a little inspiration" (which must be French for "when you want to rub one out in the bathroom"), French toilet paper is also available imprinted with illustrations from the (I am not making this up) Kama Sutra. Because buying separate porn is such a hassle.

So, cheers to the French. And happy belated birthday to Good Joo. This Joo will be back from la la Francy in a week or so to shower her with gifts. In the meantime, gypsies, tramps, and thieves, my house is attended, so don't even think about it.

Love,

Bad Joo

Uno

2010-12-23T11:03:00.001-08:00

Happy first birthday to this Joo's one and only. I'm so overwhelmed by the enormity of how much I love you, I have nothing further to say.

The Money Pit

2010-12-21T12:34:00.000-08:00

So, we did it. We finally closed on the Little Bungalow That Could(nt), and sold our current house. Smooth sailing from now on, right?

LE WRONG.

We apparently transformed into a very continental Tom Hanks and a darker haired Shelly Long, for we today learned that the house is in fact CRUMBLING. Ish. It seems that the bowed sidewalls that everyone (and by everyone, I of course mean the FHA Appraiser, Consultant, and Contractors) assured us were going nowhere are in fact about ready to break due to the improperly supported weight of the roof. And one of the neighbors tried to tell me this early on in the process, but this Joo ignored him, choosing instead to believe a bunch of licensed professionals.

And I would've blindly gone on their bad advice, had a certain city inspector (whom I regretfully referred to as an incompetent, alarmist ass - sorry, Boris, or Yuri, or whatever the fuck your name is) halted work on the project, citing irreconcilable differences with the roof system.

So now we wait. We wait while an adorable little structural engineer calculates forces and tolerances and tells us what we need to do to stabilize the structure and properly support it. Until that time, we cannot even begin to reroof the little bungie. *le sigh*

LET THIS BE A LESSON TO ALL OF YOU. Or not. We're still delighted to be rehabilitating our dream house.

It's really going to happen. I think.

2010-12-07T07:52:00.000-08:00

So, for those of you keeping score at home, we have not yet closed on the little house that could. We have, in the meantime, sold our present house, and signed reams and reams and reams of paperwork. Alas, no closing yet.

This is still because we're getting a federally subsidized rehab loan for the little house that could. And, as a result, the lender is being pickier than a migrant worker in a peach orchard. FOR EXAMPLE, as we near our closing deadline, despite the fact that Bad Joo is paid THE SAME AMOUNT EVERY PAY PERIOD, the lender is requiring proof of deposit and check stubs for each salary deposit. Unimpressed? How 'bout 'dis one: we have the money for our down payment in one account (call it Account X), but we'll be paying the down payment out of Account Y. Therefore, in FHA Lender Land, we must show not only the long standing funds in account X, but also the balance in account Y, AND THE TRANSFER OF FUNDS FROM X TO Y LEST WE SECRETLY USE DRUG MONEY INSTEAD.

Fuck me.

We're supposed to close by the 15th.

Bad Dog Momma

2010-11-16T13:13:00.000-08:00

I keep trying to come up with a fitting eulogy for my dearly departed Grace. However, my grief is still so thick, even three months later, the only thing I can come up with at this point is a bad hair ballad.

http://youtu.be/I-h4A7bF8wQ

Sorry, Grace Anne. You were a good girl. You deserve far, far better. If you knew her, comment here please. Help me out.

Shopping

2010-11-09T12:17:00.000-08:00

Bad Joo snorts period reproduction fixtures like junkies blow blue. Some of her favorites can be found at such fine retailers as http://www.rejuvenation.com/ and http://www.schoolhouseelectric.com/.

Bad Joo particularly loves the skyscraper-esque majesty of Rejuvenation's above-pictured Echo fixture: http://www.rejuvenation.com/fixshowW372/templates/selection.phtml .

FHABULOUS

2010-11-08T12:15:00.000-08:00

This Joo has just submitted what she hopes is a complete loan application to the mortgage company for the Little House. For those of you keeping track at home, from this point forward, it's supposed to take thirty days to close the puppy. Please cross your fingers, toes, nooks, and crannies for us.

More Little House

2010-11-07T05:45:00.001-08:00

In the continuing saga of Bungalow Bill, we offer another before photo. This Joo cannot wait to restore this puppy.

The Little House That Couldn't, Apparently

2010-11-04T15:09:00.001-07:00

So, this Joo is still in the process of purchasing the Little House That Could and is presently trying to close an FHA 203K Rehab Loan, or as the Pro's like to call it, an "Are You Fecking Kidding Me?" loan. For those of you not in the know, an FHA 203K Rehab Loan is a loan designed to allow home purchasers to borrow up to 110% of the value of a home at the time of purchase in order to make approved repairs and improvements to a home that will be their primary residence. Funds are disbursed directly to the contractors or homeowners making the repairs by the bank at various points throughout the rehab process.

Real Estate Agents and Mortgage Brokers fear the AYFKM loans, for they require a mountain of paperwork and certification taller and more evil than Mount Doom, and (this Joo is pretty sure) are underwritten only by Sauron. This Joo fears nothing. And so she perseveres. And it will happen, my pretties. This Joo and that dirty foreigner husband of hers will raise their child in the Little House That Could. ETA for our closing is 30 days.

10 months

2010-10-23T04:29:00.000-07:00

It's official. Ten months ago, little M popped outta this Joo like greased lightning. He now talks "ba ba, pa pa, da da, ga ga (but no mama)", crawls, stands, does stairs, claps, growls, does "so big", chops, and juliennes. And despite the sleepless nights and the bad teeth, this Joo couldn't be happier.

The Little House That Could

2010-10-20T12:40:00.000-07:00

Some people are addicted to booze. Others habitually tie off their arms with JCrew tie tourniquets and inject themselves with what the kids call "horse." Still others gamble. Bad Joo has a problem with old houses.

Bad Joo has dreamed since Bad Joo was a little Bad Joo of an adorable, historic bungalow. Since attaining adulthood, this dream has fleshed out, and Bad Joo compulsively shops her city streets for said bungalow. Until now.

Wait. Back up. Bad Joo has a few favorites, namely, a Japanese inspired bungalow on a certain park, a cottagey bungalow in a certain preppy city-lette; and Bad Joo's new bungalow. That's right. The one pictured in the previous post.

You see, sixteen years ago, when Bad Joo moved to Grand Bibleville, Bad Joo spotted this little number, and Bad Joo said, "I will have that house." And now she will.

Call it fate. Call it kismet. Claim that Jesus arranged it all 'twixt deciding who'd get into heaven (there are only 144,000 spots). Call it what you will, but a short time ago, Bad Joo and Mr. Bad Joo were driving aboot, and Bad Joo asked him to drive by this little number to see how she was doing.

And there was a motherfucking for sale sign in the window. Not a realtor sign. Not a fancy, shiny sign with a tube for flyers and bells and whistles. No. A little 8x10 Ace Hardware For Sale By Owner sign.

So Joo called. And found it was for sale for $ridiculouslylow,lowprice.00 . Because all of these sixteen years, the house was inhabited by a little ol' lady, who recently went to be with her Jesus. And the house is in a shambles. In ruins. And now it is Bad Joo's sworn duty to fix her back up.

Because, you see, she is the little house that could.

TO BE CORN-TINUED.

Dear M Redux

2010-10-19T13:01:00.000-07:00

Dear M:

You are adorable and wonderful. You smile all the time. You regale us all with "ba ba" and "papa." You never cry. You never sleep either, but that's for another post. In short, you are the world's most perfect baby.

But I really could've done without the full scale decimation of my teeth. Nothing says "white trash" like a mouth full of cavities and a mother effin' crown. How come no one ever told me that pregnancy and nursing would devastate my mouth?

Love,

Mama Joo

Foque You Very Much

2010-10-18T12:27:00.000-07:00

It has been brought to these Joos' attention that they have not been blogging with satisfactory frequency. Or at least, the frequency with which these Joos have been blogging is not pleasing to at least one of their many, many fans.

Fine.

Doods. These Joos have in the last two months: (1) pushed a baby out the hoo; (2) suffered through night after night of M's cock teething (defined as carrying out the motions of teething without actually ever producing a tooth, a la cock tease); (3) PURCHASED THE ABOVE ADORABLE, YET DECAYING, BUNGALOW IN A LOCAL HISTORIC DISTRICT WTF?; and somehow managed to organize three weekends of Joos, complete with Joo travel to Joo and ensuing mayhem with the Joo children.

This may not sound like a lot to some of you, but it is a lot for these Joos. Still, we shall endeavor to do better. In our next episode: the before pictures of Bad Joo's new bungalow, and the story of the little house that could.

Wordless Wednesday

2010-09-22T04:55:00.000-07:00

You know how bloggers do that whole Wordless Wednesday thing? Well this is like a wordless wednesday, except it's Wordless September. Avec a smattering of words. SUCK IT!

20

2010-08-31T07:01:00.000-07:00

Inches. The circumference of M's waist. For real. We measured. He is a behemoth in a ladies' diaper.

In other news, Little Baby Ju is faring well, and Good Joo is too, except that she just purchased That-Which-Must-Not-Be-Named.

Jesus = A Mountie

2010-08-24T18:14:00.000-07:00

Apparently. Please enjoy this musical interlude whilst the Joos attend to Little Ju and other bags of tricks.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QhV4-1nZs_A

Five

2010-08-20T07:33:00.000-07:00

Happy anniversary to my mail order husband, best friend, and fellow disdainer of so, so many. Je t'aime.

BAYBEEEEEEEEE!

2010-08-19T14:09:00.000-07:00

Baby Ju was born today at 4:25. 7 pounds, 8 ounces. 20.5 inches long. Congratulations to Good Joo and her family!

I'm so excited. And I just can't hide it.

2010-08-18T10:48:00.001-07:00

Good Joo's about to lose control, and I think she likes it.

Good Joo is being admitted tonight to begin the process of evicting that bad ass baby. ENFUCKINGFIN.

Sisters are for making us bawl our eyes out.

2010-08-17T14:56:00.001-07:00

I love you, Joo.

Grace Anne May 1, 1999 - August 16, 2010

2010-08-17T10:01:00.000-07:00

When the rottenweiler sized hole in this Joo's heart closes up a smidge, she'll write more, but in the meantime, these Joos leave you with this:

A: Why are you crying?

GJ: Because Grace Anne went to heaven.

A: Already?

GJ: Yes.

A: But what is Bill doing?

GJ: Sitting on the couch, I guess.

Of All the Stupid Shit

2010-07-27T16:22:00.000-07:00

I get the fall J. Crew catalog in the mail today. You know when I am about to birth and be a big, flubbery, gross, milk factory, dead hoo, sleepless, hot mess. How depressing. I just laid in bed with it (occasionally licking it) wondering how long it would take me to lose 500lbs of baby and 400lbs of fluid. A week?

I get a bill in the mail from one of my 10,000 renal ultrasounds. Ultrasound $218. Insurance coverage $3. My total $215. Awesome. Thanks. And since when is an ultrasound to determine if you are indeed going to die of kidney failure experimental? Shut up.

A going to vacation bible school. I know. I know. It was an act of desperation. And not in finding the Lord. In trying to let A have some semblance of fun this summer away from her mom who is a grouchy, psycho, fat pig. Poor A. On Tuesday I walked in to pick her up only to be greeted by the preacher yelling "WHO'S BEEN FOUND?" In panic mode I tried to locate A who was very busy screaming "ME ME ME ME ME" and dancing. Holy shit. I almost went into labor.

The fact that there is currently a kitten residing in our house. I needed one more thing to do.

The phone call I received from hubby announcing his intentions to travel to NYC the week I am to be induced. Really? I think that's an awesome plan.

My bladder is infected again. Mostly because my kidney stones are rotting and molding and curdling and whatever else kidney stones that won't leave your body do. I'm on antibiotics now until birth. If you need me I will be in bed itching my yeasty hoo with an SOS pad. And I could give two shits if that's too much info. Don't you want to come visit?

Joo Song

2010-07-26T11:32:00.000-07:00

DO NOT steal the above design, as faboo as it is, for I will hunt you down and kill you with a machete. It is my own original work in which I reserve all rights. It is an ode to my Good Joo who, despite being grossly pregnant, having the kidney stones, the G.D., the G.H., the Huge.Ass.Baby.Up.In.There, and the two children on the outside, just called to offer to DRIVE TO BIBLE BELTVILLE to care for Bad Joo's beloved dying rottenweiler. This makes my heart swell with love, even though it is in a shit situation, hence the profoundly symbolic imagery.

I'm getting a job with Hallmark next week. I'll be designing their new "Just Because" line. You can all be fucking jealous.

Now With 33% More Gadgets

2010-07-23T04:51:00.000-07:00

If M could tear himself away from his latest book club selection, he'd love to tell you that you can now share the wit and wisdom that these Joos impart via Facebook and the like. Unfortunately, he can't, so you don't know about it. Put that it your pipe and smoke it.

P.S. The tree frog is 7 months old today. How did that happen?

This Might Be Cuter Than M

2010-07-21T04:39:00.000-07:00

Bad Joo got a swimmering suit for her thirty thirteenth birthday. And it might be cuter than a picture of M riding a kitten on a Hallmark® card held by midget wearing fuschia knickers. For real. Even on this post partum body.

See: Lands End Canvas for details.

And they're on heavy sale. Like cheaper than Wal-Mart sale.

Love,

Bad Joo

P.S. Good Joo is still prego, still suffering, still in the USSR (or Indiana).

P.P.S. The man with the rainbow umbrella obscuring his head in the background is this Joo's part time lover.

Indiana is a Third World Country

2010-07-15T04:48:00.000-07:00

which is why despite the G.D., gestational hypertension, kidney stones, an ongoing bladder infection, contractions, and a dilating and effacing cervix AT 32 MOTHERFUCKING WEEKS, Good Joo is still home caring for A and B and NOT, I repeat, NOT in the hospital. The infant mortality rate in third world countries is very high. Similarly, in Indiana, women still die in childbirth all the time. At 32 weeks.

For this reason, The Incision has headed down to the Fart to regulate some medical action. Look out, Fart. The Joos are pissed.

* photo courtesy of Stockvault.net

Unacceptable

2010-07-13T10:07:00.000-07:00

Unacceptable that M has fluffier tits than his mama.
Unacceptable that M also has tree frog toes.
More unacceptable that Bad Joo's beloved rottenweiler is crippled beyond recognition.
MOST unacceptable that Good Joo's kidneys are on strike (apparently with the rottweiler's kidneys. Let's hope they went somewhere nice).

Acceptable that baby good joo is weathering the kidney tsunami okay.

This has been a red hot summer of winning, and it's only July.

Call PETA

2010-07-08T15:55:00.001-07:00

Good Joo is switching from the third person as well. "Call PETA" was the subject on my latest email from Bad Joo. Certainly it has something to do with the abuse of the albino whale beached in a swimming pool, but I am not certain. I have given up on trying to be somewhat attractive at the neighborhood pool and have donned a bikini for the first time in a long time. I won't lie. People stare. I don't care. My stomach was so white and startling that something had to be done. It's not a good look what with the belly button scar from surgery and that damn college belly button ring, but c'est la vie. The less clothing on my body the better. I'm at the point where everything feels tight and being naked is the best bet except for the whole dealing with the husband thing. At least he thinks I'm hot. In other news A has gone from a darling 5 year old to a complete and utter asstastic 16 year old. The transformation has been incredible and traumatizing. B remains a dick and has taken to throwing things, pulling A's hair out, kicking A and only eating broccoli salad with an entire bottle of Ranch on it. I had a 3 day hospital stay for kidney stones, which is worthy of its own post. I have been told by my nutritionist to gain ONLY 1/2 lb. more this pregnancy. Obviously this caused me to laugh hysterically, spraying her with a large mouthful of Coke and Poptart crumbs. One of her many suggestions was to put cottage cheese on bread, sprinkle it with cinnamon and Splenda and then put it in the toaster oven. IT'S LIKE A DANISH! Except it's not and that is disgusting and no one owns toaster ovens anymore. Keep in mind she has a bouffant and goes to Jazzercize.

Anxiety

2010-04-16T12:00:00.001-07:00

Good Joo has spent much of the last month being very anxious about numerous things. This isn't really anything new, but it seems to have hit GJ hard recently. Perhaps it's A getting beaten up by neighborhood kids, or A getting into the one supposedly good public school after GJ and hubby just forked over $6000 for private school. Maybe it's the drama about where to put the new baby (a girl by the by), or how plans NEVER seem to work out. Perhaps it's GJ's hubby randomly questioning "so are we gonna do it" during a serious conversation about that fact that GJ ate an ENTIRE box of Lucky Charms in 24 hours. Oh and 5 oatmeal cream pies. And a Coke. Maybe it's the fact that GJ HATES her newly reupholstered Pottery Barn chair. Hates it. Or perhaps it's the fact that GJ's basement looks like something out of Haiti. The promise that the new baby is going to ruin our current EVERYONE is sleeping through the night in their own room excitement. That GJ will have two kids in diapers. So there.

INVINCIBLE or Something Like It

2010-04-02T11:31:00.000-07:00

Bad Joo is, as the Italians say, fragile. So fragile, that motherhood is causing her weenie little wrists to bow oot like a kid with a bad case of rickets, if rickets affected only the left wrist; and passers-by regularly offer to accompany her home to the adult foster center.

Because of this pathetic weakness, Bad Joo suffered broken wrists and all manner of other joint injuries in her youth, much to the chagrin of Good Joo. You see, Good Joo always wanted a broken arm. And a retainer. Sure, the retainer was easy enough. Watermelon Jolly Rancher? Check. Paper clip? Check. One instant retainer. The broken arm, however, was a whole other animal. And it was a much coveted animal.

Perhaps it was the golden draw of the arm sling, but for years Good Joo tried to break her arm by slamming it in car doors, bedroom doors, refrigerator doors, hitting it with a hammer, and asking people and heavy draft animals to jump upon it. This Joo is not making this shit up, except maybe the part aboot the beasts of burden. And the amazing thing is that IT NEVER WORKED. She never broke a mother fuceing thing.

And so, this Joo reminds that Joo that despite the fact that this pregnancy is wearing her like a bad suit, she will get through it. She's strong like that. INVINCIBLE EVEN. Or something like it.

Good God

2010-03-25T05:48:00.000-07:00

Can you stand it? Now if only you could smell it. And yes...that is chocolate all over her face. When your throat looks like that you get to eat whatever you want. Gross.

Love and Strength to Good Joo

2010-03-18T10:37:00.000-07:00

In the house now shy of at least one pair of T&A, Good Joo is laboring under the weight of a growing C/D, whilst hoisting B aboot and caring for a recovering A. Since the vomiting of scabs by a five year old would in and of itself be cause for extra good thoughts to be sent GJ's way, Bad Joo is doubly proud of Good Joo as she is enduring all of this sans husband. Mr. Good Joo has chosen this time to go on a brotherly adventure that will likely involve beer and the photography thereof. Those of you friendly with him on Facebook know of what I speak.

So, Good Joo, this Joo sends you much love and reminds you that you are a fabulous mother doing a fabulous job.

This Sucks Balls

2010-03-17T11:47:00.001-07:00

Bad Joo is back at work. And Bad Joo hates this. M, however, is perfectly content. M is perfectly content, because M is being sat upon by his beloved Gramma (The Incision) and his dear Aunt-Kelly-Nanny. And, this Joo's wonderful employer is allowing her to work only from noon until 6, with the rest of her work time being completed in flex time. In short, this Joo is VERY LUCKY.

Still, those six hours away from M are the most excruciating hours of this Joo's life. This Joo has even inquired after the possibility of a neurological epidural in order to lessen the pain of separation. To date, the only thing that has helped Bad Joo ease into this transition is the knowledge that the sticky minutes she spends furtively pumping breast milk in the corner of the conference room like some kind of bad boob junkie will result in a healthier baby M. And those fifteen sticky minutes (why didn't anyone tell this Joo that breastmilk was hot-sticky-sweet-from-its-head-to-its-feet-yeah) allow Bad Joo to think about baby M and at least pretend she's connecting with him. La SNEEF.

Bad Joo doesn't know how the rest of you working moms do it. Do tell! What are your tricks?

2010-03-15T10:30:00.000-07:00

Cinq

2010-03-15T10:13:00.001-07:00

Oh A. You are 5 now and mostly adorable when you are not pouting, whining, crying, suffocating Gonny or hurting your sister. You are thoughtful and kind and such a good friend. GJ loves that you cried during the Haiti telethon and that any type of animal rescue commercial puts you over the edge. GJ can't even wait until we watch Whale Wars together. Then your dad will really be into us. You were so very brave for your surgery and even though your breath smells like there is a dying skunk in your throat, GJ loves you all the same. Happy Birthday to GJ's first born.

Deer Anonymous

2010-03-05T07:26:00.000-08:00

This Joo is leaning over M, who is simultaneously loving and beating on the boob (to which he attaches himself 24 hours a day (nights too)), to respond do your bad 'Bama comment. THERE WILL BE NO MALIGNING OF THE OBAMA ON THIS BLOG. ANY FUTURE 'BAMA BASHING WILL BE CAUSE FOR EJECTION, AND YOU WILL HAVE TO NURSE M FOR A FULL WEEK. DOES THIS JOO MAKE HERSELF CLEAR?

That is all.

Uhem

2010-03-04T12:37:00.000-08:00

GJ is so sorry for the long, long lag in posts. Ever since her husband did the unfortunate and impregnated her again things have just gone wrong. GJ got the flu (a la personal trainer barfing and shitting at the same time), strep throat, and a sinus infection. Add all that shit on top of gestating the third GJ fetus and you can understand. A has had strep throat for ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh...8 weeks now. The removal of her T and A (and not tits and ass) is scheduled for the 11th. Oh kill GJ now. Today GJ took her to have her blood drawn and if that is any indication of how the surgery is going to go then really just kill GJ now. B enjoyed the drama and spent the whole horrible event laughing and running out of the room with a balloon that she got from ???? So there we have it. This month A turns 5, has surgery, GJ and hubby fork out their life savings for private school, GJ hubby leaves pregnant wife to go hang out with his lonely brother in SLC, GJ remains in the Fart hating her washer and dryer and dog who has spontaneously started eating cat shit. Stoopid.

Like A Cat in Heat

2010-02-01T13:37:00.000-08:00

GJ hubby: You're acting like a cat in heat

GJ: meow

And now GJ is preggers and it's her hubby's fault. When your wife is acting like a cat in heat you should just go ahead and keep your dick in your pants. GJ had nothing to do with this.

STOP

2010-01-13T13:31:00.000-08:00

in the name of The Law.

Foul

2010-01-12T16:19:00.000-08:00

One of the more appalling things that GJ has done recently is to download several Taylor Swift songs from iTunes. Clearly this is something that should be blamed on the Fart. Seriously. How gross, but GJ cannot get enough of it. Do you want GJ to kill you or do you just want to kill her? For some reason GJ finds it to be good workout music. Sick. Really when your heart rate is at 183 and you may or may not die of cardiac arrest why wouldn't you want to sing about being fifteen and having someone tell you they love you? That's some stoopid shit. Speaking about working out GJ has made it through several more episodes with the trainer...minus the barfing and shitting. You're proud. Off to eat taco bell and drink the dew.

Mail Call

2010-01-11T08:37:00.000-08:00

A concerned reader writes:

Dear Bad Joo:

Was your baby born without eyes, or did you just superglue his lids shut because you're a bad mom?

With interest,

Tess in Texarkana

Dear Tess:

I'm glad you asked. In fact, M does have eyes, and I rarely seal them shut, although I would if something horrid happen, like if Fox News took over my television and I couldn't turn it off. The proof is in the above pudding.

Thanks for reading!

Bad Joo

Bukkake

2010-01-09T10:45:00.001-08:00

Dear M:

I will be blowing this photo up and rendering it in 3D (a la Will I Am during the presidential election coverage on TV) for your high school open house. Consider this payback for the migraines.

Love,

Mama Joo

Dazzle Horn

2010-01-08T09:47:00.000-08:00

Oh B. You are such a dazzle horn. At 15 months you are a bigger dick then your mom, dad, and sister combined. You spend a lot of time being pissed about things, but it really is quite cute. You love Elmo, your babies, books, being outside, going to the Y, and touching your mom at all times. Your current vocabulary consists of: hi, bye, mom, dada, A, waffle, warm, no, no, no, Elmo, and pretty much anything else you copy from your mom.

No Pussy

2010-01-08T09:45:00.001-08:00

GJ's hubby is no pussy. He spent part of his holiday vacay getting some tattoos. GJ does not feel the need to explain the significance. That's hot shit.

Happy Joo Day, Joo

2010-01-02T15:51:00.001-08:00

Happy anniversary of your birth, o' fair-haired one. Happy birthday to the world's most awesome mother, sister, and friend. May the Mountain Dew flow with abandon and the Taco Bell be carried to your lips by well-oiled, tanned, muscular, and exceptionally tidy pool boys on this, the anniversary of the day you were born.

Now get your ass back up here if you want your present. I'm not driving down there with my crotch all up in flames and milk leaking out of every pore.

LOVE,

Bad Joo

M

2009-12-25T15:06:00.000-08:00

Oh M. Stop causing your momma first time mommy stress. Stay on the boob.

HO HO HO

2009-12-25T15:03:00.000-08:00

Happy holidays from the Good Joo household to all

BABY!

2009-12-23T12:42:00.000-08:00

Baby French Bitch is here. Born at 1:50pm. 6lbs 15oz. Congrats to Bad Joo and her family.

Oh Deer

2009-12-10T11:10:00.001-08:00

GJ found something similar to this on Etsy and decided that there was no way in hell she was going to pay $375 for a deer made out of resin when she could just make it out of shit. Plus, GJ has no idea what resin is or how to do anything with it. GJ's husband is notorious for his inability to put out the recycling bins. They sit in the garage of GJ for months at a time until there is no more room to park cars. Last week at around 8pm GJ's hubby opened the garage door alarmed at the burglary type noises coming from within. He was concerned to find his charming (as always) wife digging through the recycling bin, talking to herself, and morphing a strange animal type head out of garbage. And here is the result. And you know it's hanging in GJ's living room. And you know you want one (unless you are SL.)

Going Gonny Rogue

2009-12-10T11:02:00.001-08:00

It has been established in the past that Gonny, formally known as Gonna is a pest. Once upon a time she was a fat, happy, in door cat. Then GJ adopted her and all hell broke lose. Every rodent in Indiana has had a play date with Gonny and they have all ended poorly. Now by poorly you might think that GJ means "with death." Of course this is the case, but what "poorly" does not include is the 30 minute post mortem regurgitation of the rodent. Not enough time for the creature to have been digested, but just enough time for it to have been stretched into a long tube and displayed on GJ's front porch with A LOT of blood. Gonny's mad hunting skills are of grand delight to a certain 4 year old. "How long is it? How long is it?"

Death to Smoochy

2009-12-04T17:15:00.001-08:00

Ahhhh today. Today was the first day of GJ's workout with her personal trainer. Now GJ has been a "worker outer" for many years and is no pussy when it comes to making herself sweat. Really. GJ works out hard and if it wasn't for that damn Mountain Dew and eating random shit in the middle of the night she would probably weigh 34 lbs like all of her friends. In an effort to step it up even another notch, GJ decided to go with E who is one of her fitness instructors at the Y. E runs a gym out of her home called the E Gym, which is a very, very, very crafty name. Upon arrival GJ was weighed, measured and then brought down into what we will now refer to as the "DEPTHS OF HELL". And what followed was basically E's boot camp class from the Y, but oh...say...5000000000000 times worse. OMG. Death. GJ died. Approximately 45 minutes into this little workout GJ began to see black spots. Yes. Like "hi I'm going to pass out."

GJ: I think I'm going to throw up
E: No you aren't
GJ: Yes I am
E: No you are not
GJ: Yes
E: No
GJ: Where can I throw up? Wait, wait...my head might explode. I think my heart rate is 450.
E: I'll get you some juice
GJ: No. I don't want juice
E: I'll get you some
GJ: NO. I need to throw up (said in a very whiny voice)
E: Then throw up in the garbage (clearly not believing GJ)
GJ: I want to throw up in the toilet
E: No
GJ: Then I will throw up on your face
E: No. You are not going to throw up
GJ: Throwing up like a drunken frat boy in garbage can
E: I can't believe you threw up
GJ: Still throwing up AND shitting her pants
E: You didn't look like you were struggling
GJ: Still throwing up and thinking...the 70lbs of sweat on your floor and in my clothes and the fact that my face is the color of a beet did not indicate to you that I might be struggling????? How about the comment "I CANNOT DO ONE MORE LUNGE. I CANNOT. I WILL DIE. I'M DEAD..."

Take a Back Seat Bitch

2009-11-30T14:17:00.000-08:00

That's what the incision said to MDH's bladder today. CANCER FREE CANCER FREE CANCER FREE! You know how MDH likes to get cancer when one of the Joos is pregnant. Not this time mothers. WHAT WHAT. BJ remains preggers, GJ remains home with sick kids and MDH remains cancer free. After all...having cancer 3 times was going to be a little over board.

Five Weeks

2009-11-30T10:20:00.000-08:00

Five weeks until C gets the fuck outta Dodge, and DO NOT COMMENT ON THIS POST if it is to inform this joo of any of the following fun facts:

(1) It only gets worse once they're out; or
(2) You should plan on being late.

This Joo does not care to learn either of those fun facts; and, unless you experienced DAILY debilitating migraines during your pregnancy; and your sister spent the last trimester spraying spray glue up your nose; AND your mother was addicted to the cancer; YOU DO NOT KNOW KNOW THIS JOO'S PAIN.

Other than that, this Joo is glowing.

Word

2009-11-22T16:42:00.000-08:00

Clearly Guest Krunk's ho thinks GJ has tons of time throughout the day to blog (see comment section below). She seems to not have gotten the memo about A yelling "I'm psychotic" at preschool last week and then starting this strange love affair with Kayden or is it Cayden or is it Caeden or is it...right you get the point. GJ is busy. 'Tis the season. This is the time when GJ's craftiness gets a hair out of control. Lots of glitter being thrown around, the house smelling like spray glue, the kids passing out from the glue high, lots of painting, sewing of the Guest Krunk ho's stockings...really it's endless. So much to do. So little money to accomplish GJ's crafting dreams (Good Jew this is where you come in). B is about to walk. BJ is about to give birth (the horror) and MDH's bladder thinks it might want to have "the cancer." It's so trying to outdo the incision. Please bladder. You CANNOT even compete. GJ's hubby is supposedly done running for the "season," although GJ suspects this means "week." That's what GJ has got for you. That's it.

A Good Run

2009-11-07T06:18:00.000-08:00

GJ has recently had a very good run with random books picked up from the 'brary. The top 3 that you must go get today are:

1. The Piano Teacher - Janice Y.K. Lee (in large print)
2. The Littler Giant of Aberdeen County - Tiffany Baker
3. A Reliable Wife - Robert Goolrick

Also...A and her mom are TOTALLY into the SkippyJon Jones books by Judy Schachner. A little side memo. It is just stoopid to have a library card if you are going to acquire $35 late fees on a regular basis. Just go to the damn bookstore and buy the book in hardcover. And make sure it is a book about running that you have already read 15 times. GJ LOVES YOU EGL!

Fire Up

2009-11-07T06:04:00.000-08:00

Yesterday while hanging out on the bathroom floor feeling nauseous, A brought in a Fed Ex envelope addressed to GJ's hubby. Of course GJ opened it because that is how we roll in this house. Strangely GJ's hubby never opens her mail. Huh. Anyway...inside in all of their glory were two Phish tickets. November 18th at Cobo in the D. What? Once again GJ did not get the memo that there was a concert coming up. It took a lot of restraint to not arrive at the hubby's office in flannel pajamas and a sideways pony tail with two kids who looked like white trash and rip him a new asshole, but GJ was able to keep it together. She merely picked up the phone and left him a message that announced she felt like shit and by the way THOSE FUCKING CONCERT TICKETS HAD BETTER NOT BE YOURS. Well guess what? No...keep guessing. They are the hubby's concert tickets. He TOTALLY didn't know he would get them. IT WAS A LOTTERY. He totally forgot about them. He went into the lottery like a MONTH ago. It was sooooooooo long ago that he forgot. After GJ's laser beam eyes had turned him into a pile of mush he stated he was sorry. The weekend of C's shower is here and B is sick and GJ is sick and BJ is sick and GJ thinks it's going to be super fun.

You know what?

2009-11-04T10:24:00.000-08:00

Your wife would probably want to do you more often if under your computer didn't look like this too. For shiz.

Fun Festive Halloween

2009-11-04T10:18:00.000-08:00

Poor B had to be dressed up like a bee and couldn't even crawl around in the suit. Too bad. Every year of B's life she will be a bee and to make it even more fun and creative she will wear the same bee suit her whole life. Imagine how fun the pictures will be. A was a zebra. Now GJ knows that is shocking, but please pick your jaw up off the ground. B also enjoys coloring an enormous, ridiculous pumpkin that her grandpa grew for her (and that is a dick face).

When I'm Sixty-Four

2009-11-03T10:03:00.001-08:00

days from my doo date.

At T-64 days and counting, Bad Joo is not handy mending a fuse, tending the garden, digging weeds, sleeping through the night, managing not to cry at the drop of a hat, or explode at the tadpole (whose visit ends to today). Bad Joo can no longer see her feet, although she should be able to, since they're so motherfucking big. BJ cannot go 24 hours without a migraine. BJ cannot slouch and breathe at the same time. BJ cannot be nice. In general, BJ cannot impress upon the Internettes enough how very, very poorly she is performing in this pregnancy.

But most importantly, Bad Joo cannot go ten seconds without getting the ABSOLUTE CRAP kicked out of her by C. And when this Joo says, "ABSOLUTE CRAP", she means, "Passersby stop her on the street and say with frightful looks of horror on their faces, 'FOR THE LOVE OF COD AND ALL THAT IS HOLY, WOMAN, WHAT THE FUCE IS THAT ENORMOUS VIBRATING TUMOR PROTRUDING FROM YOUR RIBCAGE, AND WAS THAT YOUR LIVER THAT JUST SQUIRTED OUT OF YOUR SIDE?' before running away screaming."

When C is not busy pushing BJ's internal organs out of her pores, he enjoys hiccuping, doing the hustle, the Macarena, and acting like a silent, sweet baby anytime anyone touches her belly. Ah, what a joy this child will be. Even his father has taken to calling him "le petit con", which is French for, "SOMEBODY GET THIS FUCKER OUTTA HER AND GIVE ME BACK MY WIFE" or "the little asshole." This Joo forgets which.

Etiquette

2009-10-21T10:15:00.000-07:00

The Joos were raised by MDH to adhere to the rules of etiquette in the interest of living in and fostering a polite society. For this reason, it came as no surprise, no surprise at all to Bad Joo that she received a gracious thank you card from Good Joo today, pictured above.

GJ is in hiding

2009-10-21T10:12:00.000-07:00

GJ's husband noted this morning pretty much on his way out the door that he was going to be in court this morning. What? No. You are a tax attorney. You do NOT go to court. You should NOT speak in public. EVER. While accessorizing himself, which involves packing the entire household into 2-3 bags that he drags to work everyday, with 19 phones, and 15 ipods (only 1 works, but he just can't let the others go) he mentioned this court thing to GJ. GJ spit out her coffee. Really he is just going to sit there and look important, play on his tap tap, and make some notes. BUT. BUT. What he told GJ he wanted to do was have the opportunity to stand up and yell "THAT'S PREPOSTEROUS". Oh god. It would involve a lot of hand motions as well and perhaps a small podium. It may also involve him wearing running shoes because you never know when you might need to run. And when the judge yells at him to sit down and shut the hell up, he will rip open his suit and there will be all his marathon medals. The lights will all shine upon him and red chest hair will blind everyone and and and...GJ is hiding.

No double chins

2009-10-20T05:27:00.000-07:00

This is what GJ's email said to her fab photog yesterday. No double chins and for the love of our sweet lord savior, no fat rolls. There are a lot of rules when photographing the GJ household. That's probably why Jenna decided to up her prices. After dealing with GJ the first time, she was all like, "Hell no, mother effer. Oh, hell no." Actually she wasn't. She doesn't swear, and she loves Jesus, which puts her right up there on the best people in the world list with GJ's neighbor Randi. Why can't GJ love Jesus? It would totally make her a better person. Or it might make her vote Republican and bomb some sad, 3rd world country. Whatever.

Baby zebra got dropped off at school and B and GJ bombed around for the morning not wanting to get ready too early. The cluster fuck started around 2:30 when GJ had to actually shower, and dry her hair, and put on make up and get her children deloused. Then throw everyone in the car right around dinner time for B and then pick up daddy and then drive to a barn in the country. By the time the GJ household got there the girls were eating fries, GJ was cursing the girls, daddy, fries, the world, her fat rolls, Glenn Beck and other things. Pictures went fairly well. Jenna was of course accommodating to GJ's need to see the pics on the camera before she photoshopped all GJ's insecurities out of them. The girls did well. B was a little dicky, but for being hungry she did well. GJ had to doing some regulating of the baby zebra. It was pretty windy out and at one point GJ looked over and saw the baby zebra sniffing the wind. And then GJ saw her flap her mane around and had to immediately intervene by yelling "NO BABY ZEBRA". This outburst was met with a frown, but A was able to regain her composure. At the end GJ did allow her to pose it out all zebra style. Jenna was completely baffled by the zebra until GJ explained that it's like when a little boy thinks he is spider man. Of course not a dying spider man, but that is beside the point. Pics to follow.

An Open Letter to C

2009-10-16T05:43:00.000-07:00

Dear C,

As you fart around in my womb and kick my innards all to pieces, take a moment to reflect upon your upcoming birth. Yes, it is true that the naysayers out there pretend that babies should be born 40 weeks after the date of a mother's last menstrual period, but the naysayers are haters. Fat, lazy, slow, racist, dirty, stinky haters. You're better than they are. And faster.

Be born at 37 weeks.

Show your friends up. Let the world know who's boss. Come out in advance. Set trends. I know you can do it.

Actually, I wouldn't complain if you were out a few days ahead of 37 weeks.

It's been really great having you grow inside me. I've enjoyed the nausea, fatigue, unstoppable migraines, and other joys of pregnancy more than you'll ever know. And that thing you do with both feet, my bladder, and a copy of the Miranda rights in Spanish? Magical. However, my most fervent desire for you is that you not blindly follow the pack.

Say, 36 weeks.

This being said, I want you to be first and foremost a fat, healthy newborn, so don't rush out. Don't take this letter to mean that I want you to sacrifice your own health for my selfish comfort. I love you, and I can't wait to meet you.

I'm not doing anything December 2, if that works for you. Otherwise, the week before is pretty open. Just let me know.

Love,

Bad Momma Joo

Good Joo wishes she had...

2009-10-15T08:08:00.000-07:00

a dick to rub these flowers on. Actually GJ is getting sick of BJ loving the dick comment even more than GJ's OB and staff. It's all fun and games to dick around with someone on narcotics. These flowers, however, are spectacular. There is nothing better then cabbage or kale or whatever the hell that purple thing is. Put it in GJ's butt. GJ also received some darling flowers from her in-laws and her neighbor, the wonderful, god fearing, Miss Randi. Unlike BJ's flowers, Miss Randi's included a card that said she would be praying for GJ's speedy recovery. Bad Joo. Bad. The incision has sent nothing. Shocking. Such an attention hog. GJ's husband is back to work. You would have thought he was trying to qualify for the Boston Marathon by how fast he booked it out of the house this a.m. "I'M SO BUSY. I AM THE ONLY TAX ATTORNEY IN THE WORLD. THIS CORPORATION WILL FILE FOR BANKRUPTCY IF I DON'T GO TO WORK TODAY. THERE IS AN EMERGENCY. OMG. I HAVE TO FLY ON THE CORPORATE JET TO TELL PEOPLE THAT THE IRS WOULD NOT LIKE WHAT THEY ARE DOING. I AM SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO IMPORTANT. MAYBE IF I RUN TO WORK I WILL GET THERE FASTER THAN DRIVING. I AM SO FAST". Whatever. The GJ hubby did have a very impressive showing at the Chicago Marathon with a finishing time of 3:43. In case you would like more info on that just friend him on facebook.

Joo's Dick

2009-10-14T05:56:00.001-07:00

As previously mentioned, Good Joo went under the knife to pull a trilobite off her ovary on Monday, and the Joos are happy to report that the procedure went well. In fact, both ovaries were saved, and Good Joo is happily recovering in the House of Joo. Only...

Only, the surgeon who performed the surgery cryptically asked the recovery staff to tell Good Joo and her dear husband that she, "removed Good Joo's penis." And, at the time of this writing, repeated calls to the surgeon's office for further explanation have been met only with hysterical cackling from her staff. While the Joos are fairly certain that Good Joo is not a hermaphrodite, until such time as this point has been clarified by a licensed medical professional, the Joos are spending their time rewriting Mickey Avalon's My Dick song to suit the occasion. Internettes are encouraged to assist.

My dick - not on my ovary. Joo's dick - Madame Bovary.

My dick - well behaved. Joo's dick - not my fave.

My dick - non-existent. Joo's dick - quite persistent.

My dick - microscopic. Joo's dick - laparoscopic.

My dick - super awesome cool. Joo's dick - gone.

UGH

2009-10-09T12:44:00.000-07:00

This weekend GJ hubby is running his third marathon in Chicago. GJ has mixed feelings about this. The training that must go into a marathon is absurd. It is stupid, annoying, and unacceptable to those who are not also training (GJ, A, and B). Sundays are the worst.

GJH: Sugar what is a good time for my run today?

GJ: How far is it?

GJH: 700 miles.

GJ: No time is good. Just leave. Just go. Have fun. I'll be here taking care of our sick children and dog who got sprayed by a skunk. I will also mop the floors while you are gone, pay all the bills, go grocery shopping, shower, shower our kids, shower the dog, paint the house, mow the lawn, take out the garbage, post a blog, play on facebook, email, and read 3 books. See you later when you return with a yeast infection on your waist and clothes that I cannot possibly get the smell out of. Oh but before you go make sure you go and buy more new running shoes. And make sure that they are the exact same as all the other pairs that you own and make sure to number them with a sharpie. And make sure to leave all 500 pairs in the back hallway. Do NOT put them in the closet. When you get home also make sure to tell me how tired you are. And make sure to wear gay sunglasses on the run (and by gay GJ does not mean homosexual).

GJH: Sounds good.

UGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. So anyway...off GJ and hubby and hubby's bro trot. Off to Chicago for like 24 hours. Why? Well because GJ has the surgery on Monday morning at 5am. How fun. And GJ may or may not still have ovaries after the surgery, but God GJ hopes that her hubby has a good run. GJ is very proud of her hubby for being a runner even though it makes her insane. Fin.

Mothersucker

2009-10-05T08:41:00.000-07:00

It should come as no surprise to faithful Internettes out there that Bad Joo is a bad pregnant lady. So bad, in fact, that The Incision is even calling her a whiner. Bad Joo is therefore attempting to suck it up as she enters her third trimester, but given C's near constant ninjitsu Thundercat practice maneuvers and the ever-present migraines, Bad Joo is having a rough go of it. To soothe her, Bad Joo is rewriting all those "pregnancy week by week" (to be sung in a high pitched, my-little-pony-esque voice) articles to better fit her condition.

Week 26
Your baby's sweat glands are now functioning, which means that the little fuceur should get out and get a job. He can hear you and those around you, so take a few moments every day to curse him and the day you conceived him, whilst you badger your dirty foreigner to do your bidding. This is a good way to bond with baby. You may even be able to feel the baby kick the shit out of your bladder at the sudden noise of a pot hitting your partner's head! Your baby is now about 14 inches and weighs a around two pounds.

As your baby continues to grow you will find yourself with aches and pains from the pressure. These include back pain, pelvic pain, pain in your sides or ribs, pain in the ass, pain in the boobs, pain in the head, neck, shoulders, spleen, and prehensile tail. (Wait, you don't have one of those? Slackass. All good mothers grow prehensile tails to carry their young). The best thing to do when this happens is to change your position or move around for a little bit. Often, your movement is enough to cause baby to move and therefore release the pressure and relieve the pain. If that doesn't work, whine to your mom. Cry when she reassures you that she never experienced any such misery in any of her pregnancies.

Your fundal height (or distance from the swollen reaches of your formerly dainty lady parts to the upper stretches of your baby sack) has reached approximately 2 to 2 1/2 inches above your navel, which is now so disgusting, it burned the dirty foreigner's retinas last time he looked at it. In other words, you are a fat, miserable pig, and it's only going to get worse. Enjoy the miracle of life!

2009-10-01T15:09:00.000-07:00

GJ already knows that a lot of you are feeling sorry for her for the following reasons:

-Her husband has red hair and we all know what that means

-The floors in her house look like this (see above)

-Her gay designer told her the floors looked pink

-Her gay designer told her to NOT pass GO until she replaces all the floors in her house with wide plank, dark, hardwood (GJ agrees)

-It will be 2090 before GJ can do the above

-Her child is a baby zebra who strangely holds its front hooves like a dead squirrel

8

2009-09-30T07:47:00.000-07:00

Yesterday GJ and hubby celebrated their 8th anniversary. And by celebrate GJ means that we both forgot about it until MDH called to wish GJ a happy anniversary. Why? Oh you know...the sick, coughing, hacking, snotting, non sleeping children in our house. When GJ's kids are sick everything else goes on the back burner. So here is the GJ with hubby on their wedding day. GJ had a double chin even then in all her thinness. So GJ spent the day laying on the living room floor and moaning (GJ is also sick) and calling hubby to make him come home. Now hubby is sick, A is back at school, and B is going to the doctor. GJ is just drinking Mountain Dew. Eight years GJ has been married to this red headed man. Wow. Three different cities and two different states. Crazy. Who knew? And that red headed man gets better every year. Better hubby, better dad (if possible), better son, better brother...just goodness.

Dick

2009-09-24T11:15:00.001-07:00

B is the new dick. It's like a switch was flicked on her birthday and all the sudden it's the new B...the new dick. And GJ can call her child a dick because in the GJ house the bigger the dick, the better. Does a comma go there? Anyhoo...she is taking it to baby zebra like nobody's business. Pulling hair, screaming, throwing, chasing, following, annoying, etc. And GJ's favorite moment...drum roll...was when B knocked A down and proceeded to river dance on her face. It was awesome. Now if only B would dress up like a lion and pretend to eat the baby zebra. This would please A and give B an outlet for her new dickness. Now GJ doesn't favor B, but A has been taunting her from day 1. Paybacks suck.

The House of Good Joo

2009-09-20T09:18:00.001-07:00

The House of Good Joo has been extremely busy as of late. GJ has been obsessing over a few things lately like what color mums to buy for the front porch and why there is no cute cabinet hardware to fit my kitchen cabinets. This last obsession is ruining GJ's life, but she is trying to carry on for her darling children. The dying baby zebra got an actual zebra body suit from her grandma and has worn it daily while failing to thrive at the dried up waterhole. B turned 1 on Thursday and is enjoying her new age. Apparently turning 1 means that anytime you take a nap you have to take 3 dumps in the process of going to sleep. GJ has also been quite busy yelling at the T.V. whenever someone mentions the words Republicans and health care reform together. Really. GJ can barely take it anymore. That's about it. What do you want from GJ? She lives in the Fart for crying out loud.

Taint

2009-09-16T08:14:00.001-07:00

Please do not give Bad Joo (or any Joo, for that matter) advice about her taint. For some reason, this apparent pregnancy has given license to persons far and wide to offer up advice to the Joo. Advice she has not solicited. Advice she does not want.

Today, for example, a foreign associate with whom Bad Joo has heretofore enjoyed a nice phone and e-mail working relationship insisted upon REPEATEDLY ordering her to oil her taint. And to avoid an episiotomy. The conversation went a little something like this:

BJ: Thanks again. It's a pleasure working with you on work-related, non-crotch or perineum related matters.

FA: OIL YOUR TAINT!

BJ: I beg your ever-loving pardon?

FA: I said, "oil your taint." If you don't, you'll be sorry. And don't get an episiotomy. You have to oil your taint to avoid it. And don't count on an epidural either.

BJ: Um, okay. Thanks.

FA: Yup, gotta oil your taint.

BJ: Thanks.

FA: Oil your taint.

BJ: Well, you're a busy gal, I'm a busy gal. I should let you go.

FA: Oil your taint.

BJ: Buh bye now.

FA: (liltingly) Oil your taint.

BJ: Um, I've gotta go.

FA: Oh, me too. I have yoga.

BJ: Oh, well have fun!

FA: Oil your taint!

This woman has never had children but knows a cousin's buddy's friend who just gave birth and had to have an episiotomy. Failure to oil the taint. A tragic tale.

A TRAGIC TALE TO WHICH BAD JOO WOULD PREFER SHE NOT BE PRIVY.

So, unless you are a medical doctor whom Bad Joo is paying to offer advice, please do not offer her advice about her taint. Other areas in which Bad Joo is not currently accepting advice from laypersons include but are not limited to:

'roids
acne
headaches and migraines
the size of her motherfucking belly
the pros and cons of pain relief during labor
baby names
and the GNP.

Thank you. And God Bless America.

Free Stuff

2009-09-11T07:15:00.000-07:00

Okay, internettes. These Joos know that everyone loves free shit, especially free, awesome shit, so check out Andy and Jenna's blog for the free-est, awesomist shit around.
http://andyandjenna.com/blog/?p=59 . And take special note of the adorable ass photos in the ad.

THAT IS ALL.

Alright, alright

2009-09-02T04:51:00.000-07:00

in posting a comment on the Baby Zebra, Bad Joo indicated that she had spent most of her childhood and adolescence pretending to be a horse. This was false. Bad Joo cantered and whinnied well into the first trimester of her godawfulpregnancywhydididothis. Bad Joo did not want to be called onto the carpet by Good Joo.

I UNDERSTAND YOU, A.

That is all.

Baby Zebra

2009-09-01T10:27:00.000-07:00

Baby zebra, otherwise known as A is driving Good Joo crazy. A has been a baby zebra for a few months now and GJ is just not digging it anymore. In fact, GJ had to up her anti psychotics by a significant dose just to get by. Oh aren't baby zebras cute? No. No. No. Baby zebras are total dicks. They talk back. They stick out their tongues. They only make this horrible, high pitched, GOD awful noise. They spend a good portion (90-100%) of their day pretending that they are dying because the water hole has dried up. GJ shits you not. It involves a lot of laying around on the ground with a tongue hanging out and panting. It's so annoying and disturbing. GJ can only get A to respond if she calls her "baby zebra". Recently baby zebra was dying at the dried up water hole when she decided that maybe if she fished in the hole she would feel better. Because zebras eat fish? Because there are fish in the dried up hole? When GJ pondered these things aloud, A only looked disgusted and continued on fishing with her tail. Don't question baby zebra's authority on baby zebra type things. So this is how we are spending our days. B is teething, which puts her close to driving GJ as nuts as baby zebra. Oh and the baby zebra's name is...wait for it...wait for it...Jules A Marty baby zebra.

It is BJ's fault

2009-08-25T12:52:00.001-07:00

Other than the fact that C has a penis (confirmed via ultrasound yesterday), everything is BJ's fault.

BJ did take off for la la france-in-your-pants for an extended stay, leaving GJ and co. without much to do.

BJ did also fail to remember to bring her camera back from Surrenderland, thereby finding herself without any photos to post on this here blog,

which would've been okay, except that BJ also somehow entrusted the ultrasound photo disc to THE DIRTY FOREIGNER, who may or may not have burned some counterfeit war game on it, and there are therefore no photos of the penis-ridden fetus hereon.

So, Bad Joo has jack shit. And she can't tile. Nor can she sew. Not even w/ curse words and twenty hours of pipsqueakless house. Good Joo, you are the epitome of woman. Hear you motherfecking roar. Post some more photos of that adorable fambly of yours.

It's Not Good Joo's Fault

2009-08-24T12:43:00.000-07:00

You know if happens every few months. Bad Joo trots off to la la Francie in your Pancie and Good Joo is stuck with nothing to talk about. In Good Joo's forced Bad Joo interlude she managed to tile her back splash with new BFF and make B a new skirt. The tiling was strangely way easier than the skirt, which was entitled "Girly Skirt" on the pattern. This is bullshit. The name of the pattern should have been "Take a Xanax and a few anti-psychotics and then sew for 12 hours even though I'm claiming it will take 1 hour". GJ's hubby just sat with the girls for several hours looking frightened, and concerned for his darling wife's sanity.

It took her how long to make this piece of shit?

Anywho...the skirt finally got finished and from a distance is pretty hot. Upon closer inspection a reader might note that at one point GJ sewed the hem to the waistband in the smallest stitch possible. This to the non sewers means it was a complete and total bitch to get out. Other things GJ has been doing are retaining 3 vases from IKEA that she was supposed to buy and give to Guest Krunk's ho. Alas...they are too cute and GJ is keeping them. Oh and also...A had her first day of school today.

Burning Down the House

2009-08-03T13:25:00.000-07:00

Ahhh...once again GJ received a credit card bill with $550 worth of Dave Matthews Band tickets on it. This is a yearly purchase for GJ's hubby, which ALWAYS results in GJ freaking out, spazzing out, swearing, threatening divorce, etc. GJ's hubby either doesn't care about losing his precious, darling, irreplaceable wife or he just loves DMB so much that he can't help himself. GJ is choosing to believe the latter based on the amount of DMB on our computer. Really? Really? Do you really need 14 different versions of "Don't Drink the Water"...all from different concerts? Of course you do. Silly GJ. Anyway...every year there is always this big ass drama about who is going to the concerts (all three in one week and none of them in the Fart). Now keep in mind that GJ hubby NEVER informs GJ of the upcoming concerts until the week of. Then GJ is all like WHAT WHAT WHAT WHO IS GOING TO WATCH THE KIDS I DON'T WANT TO GO I HATE A CONCERT I HATE YOU FOR SPENDING SO MUCH MONEY ON DMB (takes a breath) GIVE THEM ALL TO GOOD JEW I DON'T CARE I CAN'T TAKE IT WE ARE GETTING DIVORCED. For the past two years the hubby has ended up with A as one of his concert partners. This pleases them both greatly and has saved our marriage for two of the nights. GJ, however, was stuck going to the concert on Saturday night. After much flailing around and claiming the kids were sick or that she was sick, GJ just gave up and went. And...surprisingly...it was fun. Mostly because of the two chicks sitting in front of us, but also because GJ hubby had such a good time (and let GJ run into Anthropologie on the way down). The arrival home at 2am was not fun, but sleeping in until 11am was.

And also...

2009-07-28T16:45:00.000-07:00

For all of you who have known about the "Dick" song for years and decades and centuries GJ does not care. Remember how excited you were when you first heard it? Now let GJ be. That means you Good Jew...and Michael Dana Mabee. Always thinking you're number one...both of you.

Some Updates

2009-07-28T16:16:00.001-07:00

First of all Good Joo would like to announce that she hates C's crib. It is ugly. It is some sort of mission style, ugly ass crib. Before you get upset, Good Joo has already informed Bad Joo that she hates it. Bad Joo is choosing to ignore GJ's opinion. She promptly announced that she knows someone who knows someone who can make her that crib. Good Joo threw herself down the stairs. No one can be a good parent with that crib in their house. That crib wouldn't even make a good bed for Gonna, which brings Good Joo to her next update...

NO ONE knows how hard it was for Good Joo to not punt Gonna into the pool during her leisurely drink. Good Joo was writhing on the deck. Convulsing. Good Joo almost had to call Animal Cops Fart Wayne on herself. Oh Gonna...

Good Joo has also been working on some sewing projects. Gearing up for the birth of the dirty, foreigner baby who GJ will only love if he is wearing cute clothes. And by cute clothes GJ means trousers trimmed in ball fringe. Everything is better with a ball fringe on it...

Granted B cannot sit and or move in this skirt, it is still pretty damn cute. Good Joo made it today in 15 minutes from a piece of scrap material. What did GJ originally use that cute fabric for? Well...a skirt for A. Good Joo uses the term "skirt" loosely. It is more like a giant rectangle that goes all the way to the floor. Very Pentecostal. Very not hot. There is no pic of that skirt.

What A Wicked Game C Plays

2009-07-24T08:50:00.000-07:00

to make me feel this way. What a wicked thing to do. To let me dream of you ohhhhiiiiiiiiiiiii don't wanna fall in love.

Bad Joo, who has heretofore sworn to buy used everything this baby should require (apart from breast milk), is now lusting over a crib. Even Blogger knows it's wrong, for Blogger is not allowing BJ to import a photo of the sexy mofo of a crib. Interested Internettes may view it here: http://www.pacificrimwoodworking.com/crib.aspx . It's the radius crib. le sigh.

Bad Joo knows that C will spend exactly five minutes of his or her life in the crib, and that said crib will really serve as a glorified cat bed from which BJ will constantly be evicting dirty pussies, but this does not change BJ's desire. BJ knows that the crib is a monumental waste of le cash, but this does not change BJ's desire.

BJ wants the Radius. BJ loves the Radius and everything about it. BJ especially loves its Jap inspired cap. BJ wants to sleep in the Radius and do dirty things to it. BJ would not even mind birthing a penis, if it meant she could have the Radius. again with le sigh.

Please, seasoned mothers out there, share your wisdom about why and how BJ should forget about le crib trop sexy. Or send cold, hard cash to:

Bad Joo
c/o The Dirty Foreigner
555 Midwestern Street
Midwest, MW 91919

Thank youse.

George

2009-07-23T11:45:00.000-07:00

This is a picture of George W. It is sitting on GJ's table. Why? It was a hostess gift from last night's dinner. When GJ opened it she squealed with delight. Actually GJ made fake barfing, fainting, dying sounds and motions and then laughed hysterically. GJ's new BFF in the Fart is a lover of the Bush and also Vera Bradley. Gag with GJ now. GJ has even accused her of having a Vera Bradley bag with a Sarah Palin picture on it. It's that bad. But dude...this shit is funny. The picture is autographed and reads:

Dear Good Joo-
Thank you for your support. With your help we can make America stronger, safer, and more prosperous.
Best Wishes,
Laura Bush and George Bush.

GJ appreciates a republican with a good sense of humor.

We are in our 30's...

2009-07-23T11:40:00.001-07:00

but really we are 13. Last night GJ hosted Guest Krunk and fam and new Fart Wayne BFF Stacy and fam for dinner. This is what showed up on GJ's camera today after GJ had to frantically take pics of her dying tree to send to the tree doctor. This...this...this is Guest Krunk in all his glory. That's right. We are in our 30's, but still 13. This made GJ's day after picking Japanese beetles off of every living thing in her yard. And yes...that is Pearson in the background looking all snazzy.

C Rebels

2009-07-22T10:52:00.001-07:00

C is an unlicensed, renegade, bad baby. As first evidenced by C's first detailed ultrasound in which C refused to sit still for measuring, C is going to drive too fast, smoke crack, and avoid paying taxes when C grows up. C is one bad dood.

That's right. Dood. Although a little early, C got an unexpected ultrasound this week when he? refused to sit still so the OB could check the heartrate. In said ultrasound, the OB thought she saw a penis. Now, while this glimpse of an Eiffelwang is not 100% certain, it is sufficiently possible for this Joo to have head spinningly vomited all over her burgeoning belly, the OB, some passers-by on their way to a pregnant person convention, and the ultrasound machine.

Horror.

Putrefaction.

Bad Joo was expecting a girl. Bad Joo has no idea how she is going to take care of a penis. She barely knows what to do with the dirty foreigner's penis, and her job is not to keep that one clean.

This Joo should not be surprised, however. Good Joo had girls, and it therefore stands to reason that Bad Joo should have a boy. Still, Bad Joo intends to make the best of this by causing C to be a screaming Mary. To this end, BJ has decided to name C "Valentine Madonna Cher Sparkle Joo." Valentine Madonna Cher Sparkle Joo will be enrolled in voice lessons, ballet, and cub scouts before age 2. VMCSJ will learn to love it. And VMCSJ will wear all his cousins' clothing. Including B's leg warmers. And love it.

Any additional suggestions for ensuring the queeritude of this fetus are welcome.

OMG

2009-07-16T18:32:00.000-07:00

OMG...who are these people and why the eff don't they live in Fart Wayne?

WARNING: most will find this offensive (except BJ and GJ and Brad and Good Jew)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MuyF46oG2ik

15 weeks

2009-07-16T10:53:00.001-07:00

Now taking applicants for surrogate mothers willing to carry C the rest of the way. Please send your CV and an ultrasound of your womb, being sure to point out any unusual amenities (such as a wet bar, jacuzzi, wall-to-wall carpeting, or in-womb wifi) to:

Bad Joo
Some Midwestern Town
101010

Thank you.

Nummy

2009-07-13T13:36:00.000-07:00

Let's not beat around the bush...B has had a shitty day so GJ let her eat a marshmallow. Just because GJ let her fall out of the neighbor's toy car and split her head open does not mean that GJ is a bad momma. Eminem's momma is a bad momma. Just because GJ is making her wear Target brand diapers during the day does not make her a bad momma. So what that they leak pee all over. Just because GJ is spending all of B's 1st birthday money on A's tuition for next year does not make her a bad momma. With the cost of the tuition she can just dream about what a kick ass 1st bday it was going to be. Poor B. Being the second sucks sometimes.

Pregnancy Part Aw Hell Just Throw Me Away with the Garbage Already

2009-07-08T09:18:00.000-07:00

In celebration of BJ's achievement of reaching week 14, BJ has artfully drawn the above self portrait for all of youse. This portrait was drawn shortly after the third person in one day asked BJ if she was pregnant with twins. The correct response, of course, to BJ's reply of "no" is not, and this may shock all of you, "are you sure." Bad Joo is perty damn near ready to start suffocating people who ask this particular follow up question with her resplendent arm fat.

Those who know BJ in the flesh will immediately note that this drawing is somewhat flawed in that BJ's legs are not this long.

Part I of Many in the Joos' Series - Why Pregnancy Sucks

2009-07-02T10:53:00.000-07:00

So, pregnancy sucks. At least for the Joos. Sure, for many of you out there, pregnancy is a time of glowing, contentedly stroking your ever-swelling abdomens, and trying on various fashionable slings for baby. For the Joos, however, it is a time of swelling to monstrous proportions, bacne, and psychotic mood swings. These mood swings are not helped by those surrounding the Joos, although, to be fair, the Joos could be surrounded by a million Mother Theresas and still rip the eyes from the sockets of anyone who spoke to them.

Since Bad Joo is clearly meant to be pregnant, her body has, at 13 weeks, swollen to size AREYOUFUCKINGKIDDINGME (petite)? This has, as you Internettes might imagine, lead to many the hilarious exchange.

Case in point:

Bad Joo gave up on fitting into her tiny tees this week and decided to wear a maternity shirt to work. THIS WAS A BAD, A BAD YOU KNOW IT SHAMON DECISION. For immediately upon her arrival at work, the following occurred:

BAD JOO'S BOSS: Hello, Chubby!

fin

Internettes, you do not need to know how a pregnant Joo reacts to being called chubby. Bad Joo does not want you to develop chronic nightmares or begin torturing animals in your angst and despair. Suffice it to say that there are bits of vocal chords strewn about many a historic building throughout Bible Belt City, and Bad Joo's Boss has retired. And Bad Joo has decided 'tis better to have one's melon-like belly hang from the bottom of a tiny tee than to eviscerate one's boss following a chubbers comment.

Watch for more hilarity as we follow Bad Joo down the long, long, interminably long road to C's arrival. God Save Us.

C

2009-06-30T12:22:00.000-07:00

In honor of Michael Jackson's passing, Bad Joo has made a C. Easy as 1-2-3.

C is due January 7.