chalk p0rn

Bubba and Miss-Miss have been sick this week. This means they've been home from school, whining, moaning, and crawling across the kitchen floor begging for apple juice.

Moochers.

Since my sugar daddy their father is paying good money for pre-school and they're missing it because of some lame-ass excuse (virus my ass), I decided they needed to get up and do something productive* rather than laying around and rotting their "feverish" brains on Little Bear. Hey, why not get out in the sun and make like Leonardo with some art? Feeling a little feverish? Go outside and sweat that virus out.

Thus, our R-rated cul-de-sac chalk art was born. Here are the kids hard at work:

At this point they're just working on a rough sketch.

Twelve hours later, here's the finished product that just happened to show up on Google Earth last night. Click to embiggen!

Oh, please. They got a bread, water, and Children's Motrin break after about six hours. Quit yer bitchin'.

Ah, a thing of lucious, chocolatey, p0rnographic beauty, no? Next week, they'll be working on a drawing of Sean Connery from Zardoz! Woo hoo!

*Do you seriously think I would force my poor, pitiful, sick kids to make an extravagant chalk drawing in my cul-de-sac for hours on end? Please. They have been on the couch, under blankets, watching 48 straight hours of Cars. I, on the other hand, have been praying that I catch this virus so that I can stay in bed for a day. Yep, I'm that desperate.

How to Punk Your Husband

Take one Girl Scout Cookie-Dealing neighbor who is willing to enable not just your cookie addiction, but also your twisted sense of humor.

Add one full case of Thin Mints.
(Because, OMFGBBQ, these kids o' mine go through a box a week, and I go through a box every twoshznagarwa days and I figure this way, I won't have to buy cookies for like, two weeks months! Party!)

Add four empty Thin Mint cases.

Stack all five boxes neatly in the dining room, making sure the full case is on top:


Finally, add one unsuspecting husband whose eyebrows are notorious for reaching up to his hairline when he's surprised. Or when he's worried about having to enroll his wife in a 12-step Thin Mint addiction program:


PUNK'D!

Girl Scout "Crack"ies

Observe the Girl Scout Troop Leader's house next door.


Can you smell it?


The smell of a new season?


A change in the air?


Damn skippy. It's Girl Scout Cookie season. And I've got a head start:


I should come out of my Thin Mint-induced coma by the beginning of "Peeing in the Kiddie Pool" season. Until then, nudge at your own risk.

Do the Covenants Allow This?

Who needs a crystal meth lab? I mean, really. Yeah, sure, the meth gives you an amazing high and there's the whole "I'm breaking the law" fun of it.

But...

You could go to prison. And, that's not worth it.

What I've got next door to me is sooooooo much better.

She's not a drug dealer. She's not a cartel leader. She's not even a meth cooker.

She's a Girl Scout Troop Leader.

And this is her garage:


Damn.

And allow me to introduce you to her guard dog:


Yeah, I know. Not much of a guard dog. That's why I'm going in tonight. Anyone with me?