Q: Should I have a baby after 35?

A: No, 35 children is enough.

Q: I’m two months pregnant now. When will my baby move?

A: With any luck, right after he finishes college.

Q: What is the most reliable method to determine a baby’s sex?

A: Childbirth.

Q: My wife is five months pregnant and so moody that sometimes she’s borderline irrational.

A: So what’s your question?

Q: My childbirth instructor says it’s not pain I’ll feel during labor, but pressure. Is she right?

A: Yes, in the same way that a tornado might be called an air current.

Q: When is the best time to get an epidural?

A: Right after you find out you’re pregnant.

Q: Is there any reason I have to be in the delivery room while my wife is in labor?

A: Not unless the word “alimony” means anything to you.

Q: Is there anything I should avoid while recovering from childbirth?

A: Yes, pregnancy.

Q: Do I have to have a baby shower?

A: Not if you change the baby’s diaper very quickly.

Q: Our baby was born last week. When will my wife begin to feel and act normal again?

A: When the kids are in college.

So, Bethany’s (my sister) office evidently has a lot of females–married females who chitter chatter and email each other a lot…about men and then about “women” things. I thought this was funny. Hope you do, too.

xo, Angela

Women everywhere unite! The SMALL PENIS EPIDEMIC is no laughing matter. Then again, maybe it is.

Either way, our fearless leader, Mistress V, has the problem in hand, so to speak. If you missed her Second Annual Small Penis Prevention Day like I did, shame on you. And me. Of course she could have sent me a reminder, but she is, after all, the Goddess, and who am I to complain?

So I missed the picnic and the parade.

But I think we need to get serious about the Diminutive Dicklette Dilemma. No one is safe. Sooner or later some major malfunction is going to be pointing his miniature member at one of us, expecting sex, possibly even insertion or fellatio, gawd forbid. So next year, I’ll try to remember. And in the meantime, maybe Mistress V should throw her tiara into the political ring. 2008 is just around the corner, and while I adore Hillary Clinton, she just doesn’t understand the importance of this issue.

xo, Angela (wink)

1. It was mealtime during a flight on Hooters Airline. "Would you like dinner?" the flight attendant asked John, seated in front. "What are my choices?" John asked. "Yes or no," she replied.
2. A flight attendant was stationed at the departure gate to check tickets. As a man approached, she extended her hand for the ticket and he opened his trench coat and flashed her. Without missing a beat, she said, "Sir, I need to see your ticket not your stub."
3. A lady was picking through the frozen turkeys at the grocery store but she couldn’t find one big enough for her family. She asked a stock boy, "Do these turkeys get any bigger?" The stock boy replied, "No ma’am, they’re dead."
4. The cop got out of his car and the kid who was stopped for speeding rolled down his window. "I’ve been waiting for you all day," the cop said. The kid replied, "Yeah, well I got here as fast as I could." When the cop finally stopped laughing, he sent the kid on his way without a ticket.
5. A truck driver was driving along on the freeway. A sign came up that said, "Low Bridge Ahead." Before he knew it, the bridge was right ahead of him and he got stuck under the bridge. Cars were backed up for miles. Finally, a police car drove up. The cop got out of his car and walked to the truck driver; putting his hands on his hips, he said, "Got stuck, huh?" The truck driver answered, "No, I was delivering this bridge and ran out of gas."
6. A college teacher reminded her class of the next day’s final exam. "Now class, I won’t tolerate any excuses for you not being here tomorrow. I might consider a nuclear attack or a serious personal injury, illness, or a death in your immediate family, but that’s it, no other excuses whatsoever!" A smart-ass guy in the back of the room raised his hand and asked, "What would you say if tomorrow I said I was suffering from complete and utter sexual exhaustion?" The entire class was reduced to laughter and snickering. When silence was restored, the teacher smiled knowingly at the student, shook her head and sweetly said. "Well, I guess you’d have to write the exam with your other hand."

Just some TGIF silliness. From my sister Bethany’s interoffice email. Those insurance people sure do like to goof off.

xo, Angela

If you watch CBS Sunday Morning, which happens to be a most awesome way to spend an early Sunday, you would have seen the piece explaining the title of this entry:

The word “pique-nique” – loosely meaning to “pick a thing of little importance” – originated in 17th-century France. Edouard Manet’s controversial masterpiece, “The Luncheon on the Grass,” captured the country’s naked passion for dining outdoors, though in reality, most did it fully-clothed. “Peek-neek” became the English word “pic-nic” – first appearing in print in 1748 in a letter from the Earl of Chesterfield to his son.

“He writes to his son, this is a great line: ‘I liked the description of your picnic intended more to promote conversation rather than drinking,'” Heminway said. “So, I love that idea, that image of the picnic as a catalyst for conversation or as an excuse for conversation and discourse. I think we would have fewer problems in the world, if we forced our world leaders to picnic together.”

So it was a long Labor Day weekend, to which I looked forward, planning on not laboring a bit, taking a quiet pause for myself — minus the “pique-nique.” Because, as I’ve noted before, I DON’T LIKE PICNICS. Alas, friends and family had other plans and while not working the phone or writing, which is what usually occupies plenty of my time, I was dragged to two picnics.

Now if there had been lots of water –in the form of a river or pool or creek or lake– I might have had some serious fun, because I do adore water sports. No, I’m not talking about that kind, you dirty-minded bad boy! But it does remind me of a joke: You can drag a whore to culture, but you can’t make her think. I can’t remember who told me that, but to whomever: Thanks! Unless you were talking about me, of course. If that is the case, you can call me on my BDSM line so I can kick your ass.

So the picnics weren’t so bad after all. I played Trivial Pursuit (Genus Edition) as part of a team and we won three out of three games, thanks to the members who knew sports and history, and  who’s smattering of scientific information worked well with my smattering. I also made my world famous German Potato Salad, which was a big hit.  In fact, all I brought home was the empty bowl. The second picnic was more in keeping with the French definition (see above), with only 5 guests and myself, and all that was required of me was a bottle of wine. I did get slightly tipsy and giggly. And happened to sleep very well that evening. Could it have been the wine?

So I’ve not been manning the kink-O-phone and have gotten more than a few emails wondering where I am. Well, I am here, that’s where I am. Just taking it a little bit easy, dontcha know? I am also dog-watching for a sibling who is on a three week vacation and was waiting for a maintenance guy to show up to fix my garbage disposal and non-working light socket above the stove.  Diagnosis: Disposal motor burned out due to putting long stem roses into it. Light socket just needed new bulb.  I should just surrender and bleach my hair blonde.

And…I watched Dr. Phil, who I’ve totally done a turn around on. I used to think he was another “psycho-babble” blow hard. Now I think he blows hard all right –hard and righteous– because he tells it like it is without sugar-coating it. I mean, after all, if you wanna get right, then quit wining about your plight and do something about it–for Chrizt’s sake.

Hey! Maybe I could do the David Webb thing, and fantasize about Doctor Phil the next time I’m feeling amorous.

Nah. On second thought, I’ve got enough men on my hands.

xo, Angela