Who Needs a CAKE Anyway?

Next weekend is Mouth's 14th birthday. We're trying to come up with a cake. Grocery store cakes creep me out. I mean, look at this cake:

There are so many things wrong with this cake. The serial killer handwriting, the off-center placement, the PIPING ALONG THE EDGE!!! I...I just...I can't even look at it.

I made a Battlefield 3 cake a few years back that wasn't too bad, actually! But I about slit my wrists with the icing knife trying to get that damn cake done.

Not professional but not bad for someone on her fourth glass of Chardonnay at 2:00 in the morning. Mouth loved it because I made it for him. Awww!

Yeah, I'm not doing it again. So far, we have deduced that Mouth:

• doesn't like sports
• loves gaming but doesn't have a fave game
• loves music but not a particular band
• plays games on a computer (Xbox and Play Stations are SOOOO 2012 MOM)
• doesn't have a fave color but is open to blue
• doesn't care what the cake looks like but wants it to be "cool"

Awesome. So helpful. Someone suggested putting a big ol' pic of ME on it and be like, "Well, you said you didn't care what your cake looked like..."

Very tempting.

What are some of the best cakes you've ever seen? Some of the worst? And post pictures so we can all enjoy!

Throwback Thursday

Today's TBT dates back to around 1979. My bestie Court was the sassiest girl I knew - and I wanted to be just like her. She moved out of state by high school but by the power of Facebook, we found each other and picked up like not a day had passed. She's still quite sassy - but also a great mom and one hell of a lady. I still want to be just like her.

Love ya, hooker!!!!

(Bee tee dubs, I wasn't always a blond...)

Anyone there??? *chirp chirp*

I'll admit...it's been a little quiet here at Riches to Rags but we've had some big changes. I moved on from my suck-ass-shitty-ass-well-paying-shitty-ass-long-commute-shitty-boss-shit-shit-shitty-cubicle job to a sweet little job with health insurance and vacation days and a good team of people. I'm also close to home so I can leave for lunch and go play with Ted! I took a (huge) pay cut for this sweet little job but they plan to grow it. "Growth = raises" is my new mantra. *OHMMMM*

If nothing else, I'm saving around $70 a week in gas. Yeah...I own a tank so that's good. Plus, it's at a car dealership and Mama NEEDS A NEW CAR!!!

Unfortunately, it's not a BMW dealership. Mama has champagne taste on that beer budget.

*OHMMM*

Bee tee dubs, I'm not ballsy enough to sell cars. I'm part receptionist/part social media expert/part superwoman. I've finished my first week at work and below are my observations:

1. I love working in an environment filled with mostly men. No bitchy female PMS drama.

2. I've twice asked my co-workers if I was being "Punk'd". Gotta get used to working with the general public again.

3. Car salesman are like little girls when they don't get their way. But it's cool because all is good by the end of the day. No hair pulling, no name calling (well...maybe a few "dickheads" are thrown around but that's typical of ANY workplace) and all is forgiven by the end of the day.

4. The customer comes first so we all work together to get that sale - even if I don't personally get a commission (ohmmmm....)

5. Week 2 will include me INSISTING they pull the offending "Women Shoppers" link off their website. It includes recipes for bath salts and child rearing tips. (Okay...maybe I'll wait until week 3 to share how offended I was when I saw that page.)

6. I'm not innerested in car salesmen but Mama is looking out for a Sugar Daddy shoppin' for a Caddy!!! (Okay, that sorta negates my pro-women stance in number 4 but still...keeping my options open.)

Strap in, folks. I have a feeling this is gonna be a fun ride!!!!

Throwback Thursday

This is a rather messy Throwback Thursday. My scanner has PMS so I had to take a picture of a Polaroid. With my phone. Transmitted via email to my computer.

Jesus. How did any of us finish college without the use of the internet???

Age 1. My first impression. Bill Murray as Carl Spackler in "Caddyshack". One of my top 10 films. I once read that Carl only had like five lines of dialogue until Bill got on set and started improvising...and magic was made.

"I smell poontang. And the only good varmint poontang is dead varmint poontang, I think."

Why I Exercise

I exercise because it's good for my health.

I exercise because it's helping me lose the weight I gained while unemployed the last few years.

I exercise so I can have a cookie and not feel guilty.

I exercise because I like shopping for cute clothes. (Floral muumuus and black are the two clothing choices in the fat girls department. People think I'm in constant mourning.)

I exercise because it makes my son proud of me.

I exercise because the endorphins released during my workout calm the murderous thoughts that swim around in my head all day whilst at work.

I exercise because my dog likes to roll around on the floor with me while I'm stretching (I'm finally at his little two-inch-leg level!)

I exercise because I feel LIKE A BOSS afterward.

Who am I kidding?

I exercise so I can DRINK LIKE A FISH.

There. I said it. I know I'm not the only one because there's NO WAY you marathoners run in circles for hours JUST FOR FUN.

I'm a Size 20/20

My latest visit with Dr. D:

"Wow. You haven't been back here in....4 years? I am shocked. Your muscles are fantastic! If I didn't know your age, I would think I'm examining a 20-year-old!"

Well, I DO still get carded for alcohol at liquor stores that aren't on my Christmas card list.

I just want to soak up Dr. D's statement for a few minutes before sharing that....

Dr. D is my optometrist.

Ah well. At least SOMETHING on my body is like that of a 20 year old!

Throwback Thursday

In honor of my birthday boy who turned 2 years old yesterday, today's Throwback Thursday features Ted as a baby. I love him so much - I didn't realize how empty my life was with out him!

Happy birthday, Ted!!!

Throwback Thursday

My dad was laid back, funny as hell, intelligent, and just fun to be around. When I was young, he taught me how to be independent and made me feel like a grown up.

My mother is the complete opposite. She's uptight, controlling, naggy, and just an all-around pain in the ass. When I was young, she didn't want me out from under her thumb so she wouldn't let me do ANYTHING and made me feel like a baby.

My parents divorced when I was four years old but I spent every weekend with my dad until he became very ill and passed away. I'm just like him - which is probably why my mother and I never got along. Oil and water, man...to this day. Dad was my weekend reprieve from the stifling oppression that was known as "Mother".

I have a very vivid memory of me, at the ripe old age of around NINE, asking my dad, "Dad, you and Mom are soooo different. I can see why you two divorced. But how in the world did you ever end up together???" He sighed, looked me straight in my young eyes and said,

"Well, kid......she was hot."

Classic Dad.

God, I miss him.

She was pretty hot...especially in a bikini. But I couldn't find that pic so below is a family photo circa 1975.

My Hardships Trump Your Hardships

Mouth's a whiner. It's okay, I'll own it. He gets it from me. And he HATES IT when I pull the childhood trump card and am all, "I had it so hard when I was growing up. I didn't have the internet. We had to go to the actual LIBRARY and look stuff up in books and stuff. Dude, I graduated college without the internet or a laptop. I'm FRIKKIN AMAZEBALLS!!!"

Last night, Mouth was whining that his internet connection was slow.

Mouth: "Mooooommmm, we need faster internetttttt. I'm getting my butt kicked on my games because my game is soooooo laggy......."

(Because I don't pay Comcast nearly $200 a month for cable, phone and HIGH-SPEED INTERNET.)

Me: "Psht. I had it so hard when I was growing up..."

Mouth: "STOP, okay??? I know you had it harder. I don't wanna hear it right now!!!" (as he angrily shoves his straw into a juice box)

Me: "Dude, you have no idea. You see that juicebox? You have it SO GOOD. I used to have to shove a SPIKED PLASTIC THING INTO A DAMN ORANGE AND SUCK A TENTH OF AN OUNCE OF JUICE AT A TIME!!!!"

Mouth: ".....seriously?"

Me: "YES!!!"

Anyone remember these?

Mouth: "....seriously?"

Me: "Yup. You had to keep sticking it in different spots to get more little drips of juice."

Mouth: "You win."

Throwback Thursday

This Throwback Thursday doesn't go too far back but it was quite the omen for what was to come.

Mouth had just turned nine years old, and I wanted to take a pic of him. He was sitting next to me watching TV when I said, "Hey, I wanna take your pic. Do something."

Mouth: "Noooo. I'm watching Power Rangers."

Me: "Come on...it's at commercial. DO SOMETHINGGGG!!!!"

He slowly turned to me, smiled that shit eatin' grin, and stuck his pudgy little finger in the air. I snapped the pic, laughed my ass off, then yelled at him for giving me the bird. His response?

"Well...you told me to do something. So I DID something!"

I've been laughing (then yelling) at his vulgar actions ever since. Man, he and my dad would have been best buds. I'm beginning to wonder if Mouth isn't my father reincarnated.

Throwback Thursday

Year: 1995
Location: University of South Florida

My suitemate Michelle and I KILLING some wings. I always ordered atomic-eat-your-stomach-lining wings. My friends said they could smell the heat down the hall.

As you can see, this was back when we had telephones that connected to the wall. And VCRs. And super ugly carpet. And BANGS.

It Would Be Cheaper To Buy Diapers

Insurance Company Operator (ICO): "Okay, let's get your claim started. You backed into someone, correct?"

Me: "Yep."

ICO: "Was this in a parking lot?"

Me: "Nope. It was at a stoplight."

ICO: "I'm sorry?"

Me: "A stoplight. I was at a stoplight."

ICO: "You backed into someone...at a stoplight?"

Me: "Yep. Hey, you think I could claim I'm color blind or something and I thought red was green???"

ICO: "Um...you BACKED into her."

Me: "Oh. Good point."

ICO: "And both cars are drivable?"

Me: "Oh yeah. She just has a cracked headlamp cover and a dented hood. My Jeep is a tank. Not even a scratch!"

ICO: "All from you backing into her...at a stoplight."

Me: "Yep!"

ICO: "..."

Me: "You're dying to ask me why I backed into someone at a stoplight, aren't you?"

ICO: "Well...."

Me: "Lady, I'm a woman on the EDGE. Not only do you NOT want to know, you don't even want to ASK."

ICO: "Oh! Right! No big deal. Trust me, it happens ALL the time! Now, to finish your claim......."


I think I played that well. It was bad enough I had to explain my actions to the other driver and to the police officer on scene. I wasn't going to replay events for a snippy insurance operator. Psht.

Because, really. How does one explain to someone who wasn't there how the traffic light was stuck and all the other cars got to have their turn SIX TIMES (I counted) while we sat at a red light? And how the stupid first car in my lane should have just turned right so our lane could at least get through instead of holding up traffic until it was four blocks long? And how the guy next to me pulled a u-ey and left a big car-spaced opening on my left? And how I only needed ONE FOOT of clearance in the front, and I could swing to the left and u-ey my way out of there? And how the chick behind me was all up on my ass in a tiny car and I didn't see her? And how the only reason I pulled any of these antics was because I had to POOP???