You have to laugh

 

Fresh from my shower, I stand in front of the mirror complaining to my other half that my breasts are too small. Instead of characteristically telling me it’s not so, he uncharacteristically comes up with a suggestion.

 

‘If you want your breasts to grow, then every day take a piece of toilet paper and rub it between them for a few seconds.

 

Willing to try anything, I fetch a piece of toilet paper and stand in front of the mirror, rubbing it between my breasts. ‘How long will this take? I asked.

 

‘They will grow larger over a period of years, my partner replies.

 

I stopped. ‘Do you really think rubbing a piece of toilet paper between my breasts every day will make my breasts larger over the years?

 

Without missing a beat he says ‘Worked for your butt, didn’t it?

 

He’s still alive, and with a great deal of therapy, he may even walk again, although he will probably continue to take his meals through a straw.

 

Stupid, stupid man.

Truth About Santa! (Not for Believers!)

 

There are approximately two billion children (persons under 18) in the world.

 

However, since Santa does not visit children of Muslim, Hindu, Jewish, or Buddhist (except maybe in Japan) religions, this reduces the workload for Christmas night to 15% of the total, or 378 million (according to the population reference bureau).

 

At an average (census) rate of 3.5 children per household, that comes to 108 million homes, presuming there is at least one good child in each.

 

Santa has about 31 hours of Christmas to work with, thanks to the different time zones and the rotation of the earth, assuming east to west (which seems logical).

 

This works out to 967.7 visits per second. This is to say that for each Christian household with a good child, Santa has around 1/1000th of a second to park the sleigh, hop out, jump down the chimney, fill the stockings, distribute the remaining presents under the tree, eat whatever snacks have been left for him, get back up the chimney, jump into the sleigh and get onto the next house.

 

Assuming that each of these 108 million stops is evenly distributed around the earth (which, of course, we know to be false, but will accept for the purposes of our calculations), we are not talking about 0.78 miles per household; a total trip of 75.5 million miles, not counting bathroom stops or breaks.

 

This means Santa’s sleigh is moving at 650 miles per second – 3,000 times the speed of sound.

 

For purposes of comparison, the fastest man made vehicle, the Ulysses space probe, moves at a pokey 27.4 miles per second, and a conventional reindeer can run (at best) 15 miles per hour.

 

The payload of the sleigh adds another interesting element. Assuming that each child gets nothing more than a medium sized LEGO set (two pounds), the sleigh is carrying over 500 thousand tons, not counting Santa himself.

 

On land, a conventional reindeer can pull no more than 300 pounds. Even granting that flying reindeer can pull 10 times the normal amount, the job can’t be done with eight or even nine of them -Santa would need 360,000 of them.

 

This increases the payload, not counting the weight of the sleigh, another 54,000 tons, or roughly seven times the weight of the Queen Elizabeth (the ship, not the monarch).

 

A mass of nearly 600,000 tons travelling at 650 miles per second creates enormous air resistance – this would heat up the reindeer in the same fashion as a spacecraft re-entering the earth’s atmosphere.

 

The lead pair of reindeer would absorb 14.3 quintillion joules of energy per second each. In short, they would burst into flames almost instantaneously, exposing the reindeer behind them and creating deafening sonic booms in their wake.

 

The entire reindeer team would be vaporized within 4.26 thousandths of a second, or right about the time Santa reaches the fifth house on his trip.

 

Not that it matters, however, since Santa, as a result of accelerating from a dead stop to 650 m.p.s. in .001 seconds, would be subjected to acceleration forces of 17,000 g’s.

 

A 250 pound Santa (which seems ludicrously slim considering all the high calorie snacks he must have consumed over the years) would be pinned to the back of the sleigh by 4,315,015 pounds of force, instantly crushing his bones and organs and reducing him to a quivering blob of pink goo.

 

Therefore, if Santa did exist, he’s dead now.

MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!

Laughter is the best Medicine

He was in ecstasy with a huge smile on his face as his wife moved forwards, then backwards, forward, then backwards again….back and forth…back and forth…in and out….in and out!

 

She could feel the sweat on her forehead and between her breasts and trickling down the small of her back, she was getting near to the end.

 

Her heart was pounding, her face was flushed then she moaned, softly at first, then began to groan louder.

Finally, totally exhausted, she let out an almighty scream and shouted,

“OK, OK!

I CAN’T park the fucking car!

You do it, you SMUG bastard!”

 

Bye Bye Isabella formally known as Gwen from all the family….. (update)

Following on from my post

https://notyouraveragemother.wordpress.com/2012/11/03/oops/

I can now report that the boys finally noticed on Friday the hamster was quiet.

They noticed that the honey stick in there hadn’t been touched for ages… and the water was still up the top.

So we went to the cage and lo and behold the door was loose, (Allan had done this in preparation for our pretence of she had escaped)

Instead of the tears we got… from Alex ok the next hamster we get will be mine…

And from Ali… when we get another one can we get a boy one… That was it!

We did say we would leave the cage there for a few days in case she came back but today is the day we move it and clean it out.. giving me shelf space back in time for christmas see good things do come from bad.

So we have now promised that after Christmas we will replace the hamster…

In a way I am hoping that after Christmas they will forget about replacing our furry friend

Bye Bye Isabella formally known as Gwen from all the family…..

 

An Open Letter to Parents Whose Children Don’t Have Autism…

I saw this posted on one of the Facebook pages I joined

https://www.facebook.com/singlemotherswhohavechildrenwithautism?ref=ts&fref=ts

 

And it really hit home because I know all about these melt downs we had one only today from Ali and that involved doors being kicked in, screaming, shouting and things being broken.

My friend’s sister has four children, ages 14, 13, 7, and 3. This woman’s 13-year-old son has a severe form of autism and a mood disorder with psychotic episodes; doctors have told his parents that their son is a very unusual case. As a result, life is extremely challenging for the entire family. Because their son is prone to frequent and uncontrollable outbursts, they’re all having a particularly difficult time in the condo complex where they moved last year for his mother’s job as a biotech scientist. Her heartbreaking Facebook post, which she allowed me to share, strikes me as the kind of thing every parent should read, particularly if he or she doesn’t have a child with autism–or any other disability or mental illness.

 

“I would like to say something to those people in our community who look at my husband, myself, and our disabled son in disgust or shout out your windows for us to just keep him quiet. He is a minor inconvenience to you. You get to go back to your lives, travel as you please, eat what you please, and go about your merry way. Imagine what it is like for us, constantly struggling to keep our son safe. Imagine what it is like for our other three children, whose friends’ parents won’t allow them to come over while our son is home, who are constantly told they can’t go places because it’s too difficult, and who often can’t make their needs heard above his yelling. But most of all, imagine what it is like for our son, whose level of anxiety is so great, whose suffering is so enormous, that he is driven to cry, driven to scream, driven to bang his head and bite his arms and legs. Have you ever in your life felt so much pain that you were driven to that? Be grateful for what you have, for being born with a normal functioning brain, and maybe you would consider being helpful instead. We could always use a home-cooked dinner, an offer to take one of our other children to a movie, or just a smile of support.”

I love my kids…… But…………

 

 

Saw this on Facebook and my first thought was,

I did that when they were little ………….. In fact I have done it twice as each family have grown up…..

 

 

Now I’m working on getting back to staying out late and getting drunk lol

 

Small steps at a time, going out for lunches while they are at school, the odd rare evening out when we can afford it.

 

Don’t get me wrong I love my kids to death but at 50 I’m getting to the point where I want to play at being a grown up once in a while as well.