NEW RELEASES
In Our Humble Opinion… Sundays are never long enough.
On our humble opinion…you do not swim in your underpants.
January 27
It’s Girl Scout Cookie time. Ava wants to start a diet tomorrow. Shocking! we know. The rest of us don’t know how successful that will be with Amylynn running around with cute, tasty boxes of calories. We just shrug. Ok, Ava, go right ahead. Here can you hold this sleeve of Thin Mints. Hey! Where are my Thin Mints? So here’s our week in the gag reel.
- Barak. As a president, Barak’s reign has been frustrating and a letdown, but it can’t be said that the man himself is ever boring or less than charming. That fact was never more evident than this past week. Example number one occurred when he went to Disney World for a press conference and remarked how happy he was to meet Mickey Mouse. Said the president, “Nice to meet a world leader who has bigger ears than me!” The Sisters love a man who can poke fun at himself. We do it all the time – not make fun of Barak, but of ourselves. Example number two had Mr. President at the Apollo Theater for another speaking engagement where he wowed the crowd with a pretty decent, if shy and a bit timid, version of Al Green’s Let Stay Together. Charming we say. Charming.
- Obama. Our buffoon of a governor, Jan Brewer, made national news – again – by looking like a crazy idiot – again.
When looking at this picture, however, the Sisters can’t help but want to add dialogue. Jan – Blah blah blah blah I’m spouting delusional crazy person stuff blah blah blah. President – Uh huh. Could you step back, please? Personal space. I’m sure you understand. Jan – Blah blah blah I’m a lunatic with awful hair blah blah blah. President – Riiiiiiight. Jan (waggling finger) – Blah blah blah scorpion waffles illegal immigrants blah blah. President – OK. I’m done here. Good day, Madam. (turns to go) Jan – Blah Blah look at my press coverage blah blah. President – I SAID, ‘GOOD DAY’. - Gongs. Yeah, we said it. Gongs. We’ll bet that you, just like us, had no idea
If we get a gong we want a BIG one
that gongs were a big deal much less important enough to land front page acreage in the Wall Street Journal. We were all mistaken. Apparently, gongs are economic indicators. Also, specialty gongs called “Planet Gongs” they are single handedly going to stop the world from coming to an end December 21, 2012. Apparently the believers say the sound energy from all the gongs will halt the end of the world. There is another gong named after a planet past Neptune named Sedna which is turned to that planet’s cosmic energy. How the hell can they know that? We don’t know, but we guess we’ll just trust them. There is an entire yoga practice around gongs. We blink in amazement. In case you’re interested in purchasing your own gong, they’re all over the Internet but the rules state any gong over 38 inches is an “outside gong”. Who knew
- Turtle smugglers. The Sisters read this news bulletin with a great deal of interest since we’re planning our own bit of smuggling. In this incident, customs officials found 1,495 pig-nosed turtles being smuggled in two suitcases. That’s a lot of turtles people – even if they are wee little turtles. We can’t imagine stuffing 1,495 anythings into two suitcases, especially things that are alive. We thought of this as a cautionary tale while we plan our panda/llama/porcupine/red panda smuggling operation. On one hand, it seems like stuffing a live thing in a suitcase is a bad plan, but if you were a customs authority would you open a suitcase that was
Wishing it anywhere actually
growling? Us neither.
- Intellectual disability. The Federal government in its infinite wisdom has again added a new politically correct exchange to our vernacular. The Sisters think there is no reason in this world why you would ever need to be mean to disadvantaged people, but we are also concerned that we’re raising a nation of mamby pamby shrinking violets who can’t handle life. That being said, we’d like to know if one can collect disability from the federal government for this since we’re certain we could get enough signatures on a petition testifying that we’re idiots. We’re just asking.
In Our Humble Opinion . . . Angry Birds is a stupid game because those pigs could never reach the eggs unless they could fly and they can’t and shouldn’t those birds be grateful to the pigs because of all of that saved college tuition . . .
Just so you know, I wish I could shut up too
I don’t think I have A.D.D but sometimes I do have trouble staying focused. I firmly believe in multitasking, and keeping me on topic can be really frustrating – even for me. If I’m especially manic or hyper then Zeus help you.
I also have a problem of talking A LOT when I’m nervous. Inside my head I’m screaming, “SHUT UP! FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT’S HOLY, SHUT UP!” but I can’t heed myself. Inside my head it’s agony I assure you. Outside, the whole
world is cracking up and I’m whipping out jokes a mile a minute. I can’t help myself.
The reason I brought this up I just saw this bit of trivia:
Belmot Univeristy offered a course this year called, “Oh Look, A Chicken! Embracing Distraction as a Way of Knowing.”
I have no idea where Belmot University is located, but I need to audit that class. Who’s with me?
In Our Humble Opinion…no matter what the 8 yr old says, you CAN play the Chipmunks CD too many times.
In Our Humble Opinion . . . it is okay to be a person who is easily entertained by nonsense.
I haven’t heard back about what the teacher thought
Last Friday Sassy had an incident on the playground that necessitated a call from the school nurse. Sassy is a “frequent flier” to the nurse’s office. I guess that’s what you can expect when you have a drama queen. Mostly the nurse wanted to give me a head’s up so when my child got home and related the tale I would have some sane background information.
It seems that Sassy was going down the slide and the next child followed too quickly and landed on her hand. There was no bruising or swelling so the nurse put the obligatory ice pack on it and wrapped it with an Ace bandage to pacify the girl. Sassy seemed fine unless she had an audience, then she fell apart. When asked to retell the facts of the incident, Politically Correct Sassy described the boy as large. Her brother, less inhibited by polite society, described him as “a fatty”.
Over the course of the weekend she carried that arm around like it would fall off at any minute. We bought additional bandages because the first one was quickly covered in spaghetti sauce and chocolate pudding. There was a great deal of whining, as I’m certain you can imagine, about cleaning her room and doing chores. I offered to cut it off with the hedge clippers so that it wouldn’t hurt anymore, but she wasn’t going for it.
Her father and I bandied about taking her to the ER for x-rays but I vetoed it because THERE WAS NO SWELLING OR BRUISING. At all. No matter how many times I tell her the story of The Boy Who Cried Wolf and explain the moral to her she simply doesn’t get it. I told her father that we’d give it another week and if she was still complaining we could take her to the doctor and, if it turned out that her arm was really broken, then we’d have to buy her a corvette. Until then, I wasn’t wasting fifty dollars on needless medical expenses. That’s money I could be using for Starbucks.
Then Sunday night came along. The wounded girl began to concern herself with school the next morning. How could she possibly be expected to participate in any scholastic activities when she was in this much pain. How? Her father told her to have me write a note to the teacher. I rolled my eyes but I did it.
Sassy wasn’t happy with the note. I don’t know why? See what you think – I’ve included the text here.
Dear Sassy’s Teacher,
Sassy Bright was injured on the playground Friday afternoon and her arm is still limp and barely functioning. Please excuse her from any strenuous third grade activities that might cause further injury (ie. shoveling gravel or breaking concrete).
Thank you very much for your patience and understanding in this matter.
Sincerely,
Amylynn Bright
In Our Humble Opinion . . . you should not wear your two-tone hair like a pekingese while sitting next to the 1st Lady at a State of the Union Address.
Size 0 Is Just Stupid
I went shopping for some needed items for an upcoming business trip. Since these items included pants, I knew that things would not go well.
You’d think that purchasing common machine washable non-lined black pants, suitable for work, would be easy, however, depending on what size you fancy yourself – it’s not. Not at all.
You might find yourself in the unfortunate position of being in a dressing room next to a woman who shouts to a friend “I can’t believe the size 0 (christ on cracker, size zero is just stupid) is too small and the size 2 is too large. I’m not eating dinner tonight.” Tonight??? If you are a size 0, you don’t eat any night. I’ll bet you don’t eat – ever. Maybe you’ve never eaten, ever. I’ll bet you have one friend. A friend who is also a size zero because who else would be your friend? Certainly not the Quill Sisters. You couldn’t possible be that smart or funny or witty that we’d over look your size zeroness.
Scary, Scary Photos of Size 0
After trying on 32 pairs of pants, I finally found one pair that fit perfectly but weren’t in my size. They weren’t in my price range either. I bought them anyway because I was desperate. The salesgirl noticed the tears steaming down my face and told me not to worry – that those particular pants run small. OMG she was right! Wasn’t I just in the dressing room next to a woman who was normally a size 0 but they were too small!!! I feel so much better now.
So much better, in fact, that I had some gelato at the mall. Guess who was there too – that’s right – size 0 girl. So much for no dinner tonight. Clearly, she did not mean no dessert. Maybe we could be friends after all.