colliemommie: (default)

See if you can translate. Hint: once these are in English they are factually true.

"Raccoons are not turtles." (Factual even in Katrina-speak, but that's not the point.)

"Tamsin pebbles eat bow and arrows."

"Hero monsters aren't pretend! They live under the boy's porch."


"Raccoon are not turtles. That means they are active at night." :-)

Tasmanian devils eat bone marrow.

Gilda monsters aren't pretend!

colliemommie: (Default)
Via [ profile] mmegaera:
In honor of All Hallow's Eve, I'm inviting trick-or-treaters to my 'door.' Comment "trick-or-treat" to this post and...well, you know
the drill. Treats can be anything that strikes my fancy (pics of fave actors or pairings, one sentence fics, graphics, a few words why I'm
glad to have you on my flist, etc. etc.). The more "houses" to visit the more fun it'll be, so go ahead, open your journal and help spread the

colliemommie: (facepalm)

Put Katrina down at 2, not so much for a nap as for mommy mental health break. Sometimes she sleeps and sometimes she reads to her cast of thousands that share the crib. Well, today we have upped the ante. Instead of talking to the animals she is singing to them.

It's mostly more of a recitative, close pitches and quickly paced, and occassionally veering off into some big Romantic-style aria. And it's all normal, conversational words, which is why I'm finding it so entertaining. "Oh Bunny, you fell OOOOOO-o-o-ver! Are you okay NOOOOW? I pick you up and you be happy." Or "Dwagon, you CAAAAAAAAAnot fly in da bed. You fall down, huuuurt your wiiiiiiiiiiiIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIING!"

colliemommie: (Default)

Because I am so sick of hearing pregnant women bitch about stretch marks, I am going to inflict my thoughts on people.

Mine entertain me to no end. It's like finding pictures in clouds. If I get bored, creative, and twisty enough, I can make it look like they're talking. (Perhaps I should not be sharing this with the world at large, but powers such as mine should not go unheralded. Plus it's really funny. Seriously, if you are in whelp as well, give it a try. It's like prenatal yoga, but with a more immediate pay-off.) Granted, I'm not sure why I have stretch marks on the front of my thighs, but then I'm about 23-24 weeks along and only since the beginning of the month do I look like there might possibly be a baby in my abdomen instead of my legs and backside.

My favorites are the ones on the outside of my hips. They have this variegated colors thing going, from bright red at the tops fading down to whitish. It's like the flames people paint on the sides of cars.

I am a human hot-rod. My stretch marks just make me look like I'm going faster.
colliemommie: (Default)

Every time someone in pregnant complains about how "nauseous" she is, I can't help but laugh. I realize it seems to be a popular colloquial usage to use the word to describe feeling sick, but being popular does not make it right. I unilaterally revoke the Humpty Dumpty Law in this case. I don't care how much extra you pay "nauseous", it means "causing nausea", the same as "nauseating".

So, while I will not argue with anyone who claims she is "nauseous", I steadfastly remain merely nauseated.

colliemommie: (Default)

To continue with the rampant silliness of the past week, I showed the ultrasound pics to my brother. He got the strangest look on his face. So I immediately started channelling Tossie from To Say Nothing of the Dog and indulged in disgusting levels of baby talk all abbout "isn't umms the cewwwtest widdle babykins ever?!!" I'm sure it sounded like I swallowed a Lolcat.

Jack pulls himself together and starts with the "oh yeah Nic, it's really cute". Really a valiant attempt.

So we get into the car to drive over to Mom's when I had to give in. I told him not to worry, I know the baby looks like the Predator, and I actually think it's funny.

"Oh thank God," he says, stopping holding his breath. "That is exactly what I was thinking, but I really didn't want to hurt your feelings...or have you hurt me."

I commended him on knowledge beyond his years and marital status, and then we spent the rest of the drive fantasizing about how cool it would be to have a baby Predator in the family. I'm starting to worry people will be disappointed if it turns out to just be human.

colliemommie: (Default)

Is anyone any good with photo editing? It doesn't need to be super good quality, but I would ever so much love a picture of the Predator wearing the ducky bathing suit. (I can take new suit pics if needed.)


colliemommie: (Default)

Yesterday we went to the doctor to get an NT screening. The idea is that by measuring the back of the baby's neck between 11 and 13 weeks, plus a blood test, the lab can give odds on this particular baby having Downs Syndrome. The Muffin was no cooperating, but we did get a full 15 minutes of watching it jump around. There was waving, kicking, spinning, hiccups, finger sucking and tongue sticking-out. It was a lot of fun, except that I now have one giant bruise where my left ovary used to be.

Dad and I had a conversation several weeks ago that basically revolved around "Are you sure it's not a puppy?" All embyoes look the same, whether they're lizard, pig, or human, and my father refused to get excited until I could tell him which species I was carrying. Well, the muffin already looks human in profile, and has the expected number of fingers and limbs. But here is the little critter face-on as of yesterday:

Now, I'm not given to wild theories, but this ultrasound, plus my pregnancy blackouts, plus watching 4 seasons of X-Files in a row has me thinking. I regularly lose time and wake up with upholestery marks on my face and no idea how I got there, which we all know is a prime indication of alien abduction. I'm thinking that I should ask them to wand me very carefully at the airport tomorrow...there may be a chip somewhere I haven't found. Probably somewhere in my chest; it's all bumpity lately and I think the whole "it's just the hormones" thing is a government cover-up.

Having come to this conclusion, I do what any sensible woman does: I called my Daddy. I told him that the baby was human. Well, humanoid. It might very well be an alien.

"Huh," he says. "Reptilian or insectoid?"


"Good. I'm open-minded but no grandkid of mine is going to have compound eyes." Pause. "So, what is it?"

"Like male or female you mean?"

"No. Like what is it."

"Can't tell yet, Dad. I'm hoping for a Predator."

"Ooh, that would be great...I could take it hunting!"

What would we do during these stressful and life-changing times without our families? I love my Dad so much.

x-posted to 

[community profile] pregnant


colliemommie: (Default)
Then one could easily identify any homicidal maniacs one came across because they all look so darn weird!

Just finished watching seasons 3 and 4 (borrowed from Dad), and all the villians are freaky.

P.S.- I do love Peter Boyle.
colliemommie: (art thou beguiled now?)
Contributions more than welcome! The surface has barely been scratched on this one.

Jenn and I started this when I was up in Pittsburgh, and I just now bothered unpacking and finding my notes. These rules are very general, so they should fit with the period and genre niches of your choice...

Take one drink for:

* Illegal use of artwork (ex. Unicorn tapestries in Becket and egregious portrait abuse in Man in the Iron Mask)
* Illegal use of color/fabric  (gold lame Henry in Man for All Seasons)
* A costume you'd look good in
* Mistaken identity
* Architecture porn
* Improper use of titles
* Broken engagements
(extra drink if it's so person A can marry another member of person B's family)
* Opening someone's else's correspondence
* When anyone from an episode of Doctor Who shows up
* Willful abuse of history/existing plot
(please water down drinks if watching either Elizabeth movie, for the sake of your liver)

Empty the glass for:

* Syphilis!
* Beheadings
colliemommie: (Default)
Dear Speach Center of my Brain:

I know you're tired. Not being able to get more than an hour of sleep at a time is rough, and no one expects normal levels of performance right now.

But please stop telling people I have syphilis. I have shingles. Shingles.

Thank you. 
colliemommie: (solemn)
Because it makes my soul happy, and anyone who likes any one of those things must see it:

colliemommie: (Default)

I just spent a full five minutes trying to remember the adjectival form for "observe".

"Observive" was the front-runner for way too long...

colliemommie: (Default)

I'm not sure what it is about this particular used book store in Robinson, but I turn into some little goblin-creature whenever I'm there.  I scuttle around, clutching volumes to my chest, gibbering, squeaking, and going "mine mine mine" and, occasionally, giggling maniacally.

I am at a loss to recall any other place where I scuttle. But it gives great enjoyment to whoever has come with me, and I got some great prices on hardcovers to replace some paperbacks that are falling to shreds.

BTW - is or has someone recently started publishing past Hugo winners in hardcover?  I saw Memory and The Doomsbday Book in matching unfamiliar covers with 50th Anniversary of something or other logos on them.

colliemommie: (Default)

Peter Sellers on the Muppet Show, impersonating Queen Victoria and reciting Richard III.

Absolutely hilarious, and a little sad...

colliemommie: (Default)

Got this in an email today, and it just begs to be shared: it's Don McLean's "American Pie" as sund by Hamlet.  I think the choruses just get better as they go.

Shakespearean Pie

The link has both lyrics and the free audio file.

colliemommie: (Default)

"Wow. That man is like the Captain Kirk of the Napoleonic Wars."


colliemommie: (Default)

December 2016

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