Black Friday Zombies and 2 for 1 BRAAIINNNNSSS!!!

Hi peeps!

We're recuperating from a bug around here, so this post is only, oh, a week or so past due. 

Late. It's how I roll.

Enjoy!

How was your Turkey Day? Ours was mostly lovely. We went to my grandma's house and enjoyed extremely delicious food and the company of friends and family. Also, I didn't have to cook anything but pumpkin pie. Win? I think yes.

The problem was the ride home. We decided to go on a manic rampage around town to find a Redbox with Brave. I was driving, so of course we got lost (in my home town  ... wait, was that north?). We finally found one at a McDonald's on the far side of town. But then, of course, we were at McDonald's and Grover was magically starving and I was all, wahh? did you not just devour half a turkey? But evidently there's something about those golden arches that signals the stomachs of men to say, "FEED ME FEED ME FEED ME."

Let's do this thang.
In a safe and law-abiding way, of course.
In case you're wondering, I totally made that face ...

So he got a burger and fries.

By now it was time to feed Baby G again. I nursed her while Grover devoured his fifth (sixth?) meal of the day. All seemed well until I tried to put Princess Polka Dot back in her car seat. She started screaming like someone was pulling her toes off. I tried calming her down and rocking and cooing, gas drops, feeding her again. Nothing. She was mad and that was that. We thought maybe she would cool off when the car actually started moving, so I strapped the tiny ball of baby fury into her seat and we got on it like that guy in Fast & Furious. Sorta.

We had been in the car approximately 10 minutes when G started yet another round of horrible pterodactyl-esque screaming. We tried ignoring it, hoping the gas drops would kick in. That didn't happen, so we decided to go somewhere and walk around until the fit passed and she fell asleep. Nothing was open. I was pretty certain my ears were going to start bleeding if we didn't stop ASAP, so we pulled into the nearest available parking lot. It just happened to be Target.

I noticed a police car first. Odd, I thought. As we turned into a parking space, I realized the entire parking lot was packed at 7:30 p.m. What the heck was going on? There were lines upon lines of people with their faces pressed against the glass doors. Was there a bear loose in Target? A streaker maybe?

Then I remembered Black Friday, that quintessential holiday of American greed and utter disrespect for others in the name of a good deal on things we don't really need to be happy. Lovely.

I also remembered this scene from Zombieland.

The similarities between the two crowds were strikingly similar (forgive me for not taking a picture of the Black Friday zombies, but I had gone into "must get the baby calmed down" mommy brain thing).

People in pajamas and various states of undress, crazy hair, how all of them turned to glare at the sound of our car engine, even the red glints in their eyes (maybe from the reflection of the giant neon bulls eye, maybe not ... ). There was less blood, but that would most likely change once the doors opened.

My muscles started humming. I heard blood rushing in my ears. I mentally rehearsed all two of my ninja moves. Adrenaline made my stomach muscles clench.

 Dang it, I really had to pee all of a sudden, too.

I was ready to fight off this horrid mob and protect my family.

But then somebody slapped somebody, and the attention turned away from us.

And we decided to park at Vitamin Cottage instead.

Cuz if there's zombies there, they'll probably be peace-loving hippie zombies who just want some sweet herbs, man.

Or not.

Either way, I'd better work on my ninja skills.

A rather accurate representation of me doing some awesome kung fu.

Amendment 64

Hi peeps,

I live in Colorado. In case you didn't know, it's one of two states that just legalized marijuana. Depending on who you are, that's either REALLY RAD or REALLY BAD. Personally, I'm undecided. There's a very good chance I'm allergic to marijuana, so Amendment 64 isn't my biggest problem (hello? have you ever potty-trained a toddler?).

Now, if I start breaking out in hives every time I leave my home, then I'm gonna be pissed.

At the moment, it really doesn't really matter to me. I don't know much about it, as witnessed by this post.

I'll pause while you get through that.

Yes, really.

I know, ridiculous.

I WAS HOMESCHOOLED, OKAY?

The real reason I'm thinking about this is I just finished this Jamaican/rasta/total stoner hat. At least I'm told it's a total stoner hat. As you may know, I am modeling my own creations (scary/creepy/what the heck was that face I just pulled?).

Unfortunately, I have absolutely no idea how to look like a stoner.

Or a Jamaican for that matter.

So I did what any self-respecting nerd wishing to be politically correct (isn't it now that Amendment 64 passed?) nerdy, homeschooled, possibly allergic to weed human being would do. I Googled it.

This article was particularly helpful.

The 19 Stoner Faces of Michael Phelps

My favorite:

15. The "A taco shell MADE OUT OF DORITOS?!" face

Seeing as I don't look much like Mr. Phelps (and don't smoke mary jane ... did you see that? I correctly used a pseudonym for "marijuana". Boo. ya.), I'm not sure that's gonna help.

And now that I've written this post, I'm pretty certain I'll now look ridiculous no matter what face I make.

Where's Puff when you need him?

Oh, that's right.

He's on the couch. Eating Cheetos and goldfish and getting man (dragon?) boobs.

There. All my knowledge of marijuana encapsulated in one post.

You know, beside all the technical stuff I read on Wikipedia.

The end.

Me.
If I were a cat and weed looked like cilantro.
Wait ...
Does weed look like cilantro?

"It's on my to-do list" and random binder jokes

I am a big list maker. I have binders full of lists ... okay, they're notebooks.

Here forth commences binder jokes gathered from the Internets JUST BECAUSE THEY'RE FUNNY.

I'm not trying to make a political statement. The election is over. That's why I waited to post these. So just chill, okay? Unclench your jaw muscles ... and other muscles. Breath. If you really can't handle it, use the nifty wheel on your mouse and go past it fasterthanspeedygonzalesandothertypesofrodents to the point of this post.

Now ...

The only scene of this movie I truly remember
is the watermelon. I can totally relate to that.

My sentiments exactly.
What does that even mean?

This is probably only funny
because I'm a fan of classical music.
Really, though, I have no idea who this guy is.

too. many. children's. movies.

My favorite. Whoever this photographer
(photoshopper?) was, I salute you.

Now, if you chose to scroll, hi! I still love you. Let's change the subject.

I have to-do lists, to-don't lists, color lists, project lists, lists of words, lists of favorite things. I really, really like lists.

Without my to-do list, I would stay in my pajamas all day and eat ramen noodles and read. That's it. The end.

But I already do that.

Hrmm. Maybe it's not the lists, then.

Even though my beloved lists seem to be rather ineffectual at this point in time, I still make them. I never thought my to-do list would include such things as:

> Fish 19 Hot Wheels cars out of the recycle bin
> Quick! Where's the Hoover DAM ARNICA!
> Hide the spoons
> Remove the sharp objects from the kitchen drawers and put them ... where?
> Find my other shoe
> Find Grover's other shoe
>Find Talen's other shoe
(We have a shoe bandit.)
> Pick up the pencils, Sharpies, highlighters, and pens scattered around the house.
(The shoe bandit has diversified. Be afraid, Papermate. Be very, very afraid.)
> Erase the chalk marks off the refrigerator.
> Find all the binkies (currently 3 out of 12 have been located ... )
> Dig the rotting piece of ... something (what IS that?) out from under the couch cushions.
> Wash the white couch AGAIN. White couch, I hate you.
And always, always
> Find the missing library book

Ah, to-do lists. Without them I would have no idea just how unproductive I am.

Presenting ...

I did it, peeps!

In case you haven't noticed the *ahem* huge and rather obnoxious announcement at the top of the page (and the widget in the sidebar ... and the facebook status update ... and this post .... and me screaming, "HOOORAY!" at the top of my lungs), {walker whimsy} is officially on Etsy!

woot woot!

This has been a big goal of mine and I'm glad I finally accomplished it!

I have four items listed so far. Not so impressive, but since I made them all by hand, I'll take it :)

I will be selling a variety of stuff, including the things I share here on the bloggy (so far, that includes the rainbow scarf and the mustache), mohawk hats (cuz they're awesome), and other randomness.

Because it wouldn't be fun without randomness, right?

Check it out!

Click here!

10 Reasons Not to Watch Titanic

Hi peeps,

this scene ... aka THE ONLY GOOD PART OF THE MOVIE

I foolishly, foolishly decided to watch Titanic for the first time the other night. My thought process was, "Maybe if I watch this terrible awful movie I'll be all like, 'Oh, wow. I'm so glad I'm alive to watch this terrible awful movie!' "

It didn't work. I am now emotionally scarred for life and feel the need to warn others of impending emotional icebergs of doom.

Now, I realize some people like TERRIBLE AWFUL MOVIES, but I am not one of them. I already feel blubbery and emotionally unbalanced most of the time. But if you like it, good for you. To each their own, right?

For the rest of us, here's 10 reasons to leave Titanic at the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean:

1. Dolphins. Really? What about narwhals? Why do we always forget about the narwhals?

2. Despite the fact you know what's coming, you can't help but hope a woman says, "What do you mean, you cut the number of life boats in half, you dumb ants!?! Put them back RIGHT NOW OR I SWEAR ... " *slap* " ... yes, dear."

I guess that would be a pretty lame non-Oscar-winning multi-million dollar blockbuster, though.

3. The not-so-epic screenplay of  "Jack! Rose! Jack! Rose! JACCCCK!".

You know how many times you can scream that before it starts to get old?

Five.

4. Disney cruises no longer seem like relaxing family vacation options.

Can you say, "GIANT DEATH TRAP"?

5. The diamond necklace looks like something from the quarter machine at Pizza Hut.

6. All the rascals get on the lifeboats. I know it's some kind of message about poetic justice, it's worse to live with the guilt than die with everyone else, death would be too easy for them, blah blah blah. But the movie would be sufficiently awful without all the bad guys getting away. Really.

7. There are ridiculous numbers of shots of people hitting random objects as the boat goes down. Propeller, table, large round brass thing conveniently placed in the center of the deck, deck chair, other doomed passenger, railing, that weird round brass thing again.

Actually, there are just ridiculous numbers of shots of people dying. Period.

8. Jack dies. Despite the fact I find him semi-vapid and rather one-dimensional and much, much too nice, it's still pretty sad to watch Rose wrench her partially frozen hand out of his really, really frozen one. Especially since Mythbusters proved HE COULD HAVE GOTTEN ON THE DARN PIECE OF WOOD AND SURVIVED.

Oh yeah, it's fictional. *shakes head violently*

9. James Cameron has an irresistible desire to turn his characters blue. WHY?

The key to cinematic success?

Blue.

And now, of course, they've remade it in 3D. Beside the fact "3D" is now a ridiculously cliche way to say, "GIVE ME MORE MONEY!!!", if I want to see 3D nipples, I'll just look down.

Oh wait. I can no longer see those.

10. Boob envy.

It's a thing.

Lucky Number Nine

Be warned. This post is part cuteness and part mommy rant. With pepper.

For the cuteness part, here's the kidlets in their Halloween costumes. They were in them for less than 10 minutes right before dinner. I didn't realize how hard it would be to take decent pictures of an 18 month old who wanted very much to be naked or a 3 month old who had no idea what the hell was going on. So that's my excuse.

Here's the Highlander:

Charge! (whilst holding my sword backward)!

And the Punk Rock Princess:

Whoa.

Did you notice T's tattoos? That was a little pre-Halloween dress up. Or rather undress-up.

blackmail!

Now for the rant part. People have been asking me how many kids I want now that I've made my contribution to humanity with the socially acceptable two. When Grover and I first got married, we wanted five.

Now I tell everyone nine, but that's mostly because I enjoy seeing people's eyes almost pop out of their sockets.

Honestly, though? I really don't know how many children I want. Maybe that's bad. I mean, I have a general idea (definitely less than 27 ... jk. somewhere between two and five ... or nine ... ). And I should probably have a five year plan. But I've never done things by the book, so why start now? I'm hoping I'll just know when our family is complete.

In other words, I don't have a plan. Again.

Sorry to burst your socially acceptable bubble.

 Again.

muahahahahahahahahahahaha!!!

yup.