Five Things Friday- The Insults Just Keep Coming

  1. Remember when your mom would subtly leave deodorant on your night stand when you were twelve?

My husband totally did that. Only not with deodorant. He arrived home yesterday and brandished a drugstore bag at me. “Look what I bought” he proudly proclaimed, first pulling out the items he had purchased for himself before getting to the real purpose of his visit to the mall; “I bought you razors and soap.” Essentially my hubby just called me hairy and dirty. Point taken Tex, I won’t wait for an instructional tutorial on how to use both, I promise.


  1. My new spa routine

I thought Mini-Tex’s bum being infested by ferrets was bad until this week when he learned how to whistle. Well, not whistle exactly, but exhale using his mouth. He likes to practice this trick while we are feeding him. So not only is everything in the kitchen and living area covered with spatters of breastmilk mixed with apple from when Mini-Tex creates an impromptu catapult using his spoon, but now every time we put some food in his mouth, he reacts by creating a fine spray of baby slobber mixed with gruel. It’s making me consider bathing more than twice a week.


  1. The Canadian version of “A Dingo took my baby!”

Much like his parents, Mini-Tex loves the great outdoors. So every day, I haul him, his toys, his jolly jumper and his ring of neglect outside. He loves it, I love it, and the mosquitos love it too. I thought it was bad when at his six month checkup, I had to explain that Mini-Tex didn’t have chicken pox, those were bug bites.

That was nothing compared to watching a small bird half hop, half fly off with a part of my son. Initially it was a small mosquito, but after feeding on Mini-Tex’s chubby little leg while he played in his exersaucer until the tiny pest was actually full to bursting, it morphed from insect into small avian species. Honest to goodness, when I finally spotted the bloodsucker all but draining my son’s little calf, it had the mosquito version of a pot belly. It was so bloated when it tried to take off, it dipped back down to the ground. The mosquito had fed on my baby for so long that it was too fat to fly. I’m pretty sure I’m sucking at this parenting gig.


  1. I’m moving to a trailer park

Not really, but I might as well given that I’ve started answering the door topless and if one is going to be super classy, it’s best just to rent the mobile home too. This event caused me to question our neighbourhood as well because the mailman didn’t bat an eye. This may in part be due to the fact that I was wearing a baby and a brassiere at the time, so there was a lot to distract from the nudity.


  1. I’ve started an anti-Post Secret blog

That sounded way more negative than it meant to. What I meant was that instead of the world sending me their secrets, I’m sending mine to the world. Only they’re not secrets, it’s mostly nonsense or manatees with facial hair Sharpie-d on. Also the entire world isn’t receiving them. Currently I’ve contained my weirdness to North America and people I know, but I might start looking up either politicians or business executives to infuse their life with random anecdotes about whales.

Travesty Tuesdays: The Potentially Sacrilegious Edition

While going through my childhood bedroom I discovered postcards that I purchased when I visited Italy. So I brought them to my grandparents with the intent of writing to people. This act resulted in the following conversation.

Granddad while rifling through my stack of postcards splayed all over his dining room table “Unwashed, what are these?”

Unwashed who is overly chipper and excited about her project “They’re postcards, I’m going to send them to people.”

Granddad is in a mild state of disbelief “You mean you’re going to send these cards that no one would ever want to look at to people?”

Unwashed now all but bouncing up and down with enthusiasm “Yes Granddad, but it’s even better, I’m going to write complete nonsense on them before I do so.”

I think sometimes Granddad wishes I had normal hobbies like watching Netflix or at the very least didn’t have the addresses of all of his closest relatives.index

This card could be an excellent advertisement for protective clothing. Clearly the Garden of Eden was a dangerous place for soft fleshy bits. I mean, never mind all of the teeth and jaws that are just on the verge of mowing down on a pudgy muffin top, there are beaks. I don’t know about you but I’ve never seen a chicken with kind eyes. For all we know, it may have been Adam himself who made the first jock strap after a tussle with a rooster.


This statue pays homage to the lost art of python wresting. There were a couple of die hard fans who tried to save it of course, adding rules to make it safe; only wrestling two pythons at a time, feeding them beforehand, not piping Zydeco into their cages (serpents hate piano accordions). Tragically, it wasn’t enough, the sport died out. Weirdly enough, the idea of clothing or substituting deadly snakes for kittens never occurred to anyone.


In kitten wrestling everyone wins, because kitten wrestling is actually snuggling. (Photo Credit :



(Photo Credit :

It isn’t talked about often but Michelangelo was a huge Spielberg fan. That’s where this painting came from. The old, beardy dude is all “I’m going to go off on my harem of angels now but I will be …right… here”. Said in a warbling, old man, alien voice of course. It’s rarely mentioned in guidebooks but the Sistine chapel totally lights up after dark like some sort of strange, elderly, finger-shaped night light, as an homage to that special extra terrestrial.

Travesty Tuesdays- Pachyderm Peepshows

Last year, to celebrate the holiday season, I sent out naked photos to my family. As detailed in my post “Tex’s Areolas, Coming to a Mailbox Near You”. Well that was what I threatened to do when I called my Dad to get all of my relatives’ addresses. In actuality, I sent out belated Christmas cards with a fully dressed photo of Tex and me standing on a bridge. Here is the result of last year’s Christmas card writing.

Dear Phillip,

When you woke up this morning, I know the only thing you wanted was to receive a card from your divorced cousin complete with a picture of her “hottie, hottie” boyfriend. It’s what every young person dreams of. I know- that’s why I continue to write awkward correspondence – to make the world a better place. Well except for my Dad’s world. In his card and accompanying picture there may have been hints of future naked Christmas cards to come. I’ve been toying with the idea recently of satirizing the traditional Christmas letter. The only thing that could possibly top that would be to poke fun at the concept of the Christmas card photo, by doing it in the buff. The candy cane is such a versatile goody.

For now you just get a late non-Christmas card and a photo of Tex and me. It’s a tradition in his family to give out photos of the couple to loved ones at holidays. I think I’m going to start wearing a Yoda mask everywhere so all the images we send out leave people wondering whether I’m obsessed with Star Wars or if Tex is just into wizened, green things.

Awkwardly yours,



The next card I sent out wasn’t much better.

Only on the back of the photo of Tex and I, was written “Tex “Hottie” Smirnoff and a Bridge Troll”


Dear Uncle

I am going to behave. I am going to be proper. I am going to channel the sentiments of the woman on the front of this card and be dull (Van Gogh peasant woman against a background of wheat). This is the eighth card I’ve written and they’ve gotten progressively more wild and bizarre. I’m a little concerned that I might draw and elephant burlesque show on the back of the card just because. But I need to keep my focus and remember the spirit of beyond late Christmas cards is one of somber apologies and an explanation of busyness. So I should get on with it and not try to draw a brassiere which can accommodate a trunk.

Sorry this Christmas card and the accompanying photo are late, it’s not that I’m disorganized; I was just very very busy this past December and January. I mean who else was going to watch every single episode including the bonus features of Hugh Hefner’s former girlfriend’s Bridget Marquardt’s short lived travel show “Bridget’s Beaches ?


It was vital that I view this show the past two months. It enriched my life in countless ways. (Photo Credit: imdb,com)

This kind of exceptional filming making takes precedence to the rest of life on occasion. My deepest apologies. Hopefully Hef will keep his previous flames under control and off of the televisions for the next holiday season. Then I might have a hope of getting cards out before the New Year.

Much belated love,


P.S. The photo was included because it is a tradition in Tex’s family to distribute pictures of the couple to loved ones. That sort of explains the reason for the card. But not the contents, those I don’t think could ever be explained.


On the back I printed

“No scantily clad mammals here. Sorry?