I’ve got a secret part 2: I declare allegiance to the Klingon Empire.

So as you may have read in my post yesterday, my ex-boyfriend William Shatner and I broke up.  Yes, I’m OK- it’s been a long time coming, we’re just different people now.

The break-up was expected.  Do you know what WASN’T expected?  A little someone I’d like to call “Rurickthedamned2”.  

He is NOT happy with me.

Around 3am last night, my child literally exploded.  From all ends.  It was disgusting and I will leave it at that.  By the time I hosed him/his bed/the walls/the ceiling down (seriously, EXPLODED) and got him back to sleep, I was wide awake.  After tossing and turning for a half hour, I decided that I’d check to see if my ex-boyfriend William Shatner had sent me a happy birthday message.  NO, he did not send me birthday wishes for all who were wondering.  The poor guy, he’s probably still too upset.  BUT… do you know who DID send me a note? 

That’s right- RURICKTHEDAMNED2 (apparently the names Rurickthedamned and Rurickthedamned1 were already taken).

Yesterday, I had posted a link to my blog on William Shatner’s facebook page.  What I DIDN’T know was that the Klingon High Council was watching me.  Here are the emails Mr. TheDamned2 sent to me last night.

EMAIL #1

Kind Sir (Apparently Klingon princesses are male)

By the order of the Klingon High Council, we demand you terminate your allegiance to James T. Kirk immediately.  Failure to do so will result in your trial.

qoSlIj DatIvjaj

EMAIL #2

Kind Sir (Seriously dude.  I’m a female.  Look at my long golden flowing locks)

The Klingon Empire insists that you declare allegiance to the Emperor by ramjep. Heed this call.

Heghlu'meH QaQ jajvam

Well Rurick.  May I call you Rurick?  I have a few things I need to say to YOU.

First of all.  Thank you SO much for giving me the opportunity to terminate my allegiance BEFORE putting me on trial.  I know you Klingons are a hasty bunch, so I appreciate the chance to consider my options.

Second. DID YOU READ MY BLOG?  My ex-boyfriend William Shatner and I BROKE UP.  I think that qualifies as “terminating my allegiance to James T. Kirk”.

Third.  Not to geek out on you, but I’m pretty sure Klingons and the rest of the galaxy kissed and made up long ago.

I’m going to stop here because… well… this is BY FAR THE NERDIEST THING I’VE EVER WRITTEN.  Just let me know when my trial begins, I’ll need to schedule those days off of work.

I’m sure that this is just an overzealous fan with too much time on his/her hands, but JUST IN CASE…

TTFN,

Sir AMo

I have a HUGE secret.

I have a secret.  

I have a boyfriend.  His name is William Shatner.

How long has it been going on, you ask?  A while.  Like, 30 years.  The PROBLEM with our relationship is, well… it’s pretty one-sided.   

When I was 7, we professed our love for each other.  Sort of...

Me: I LOVE you, William Shatner!

WS: Space.  The final frontier.

My Mother: AMo, stop talking to the TV, it’s disturbing.

When I was 14, we had to keep our relationship hidden.  My friends were WAY too into “The Coreys”, they wouldn’t have understood.

My friends: Corey Haim is SO HOT!

Me: Heh heh… um, yeah… I liked him in The Goonies.

My friends: That was THE OTHER COREY. Duh.

Me: Oh yeah.  Ha!  Star Trek IS STUPID!  I LOVE THE COREYS!

When I was 25, it didn’t matter to me who knew.  When I met my husband that year, I immediately told him about the other man in my life.  Surprisingly, he was OK with it.  

When I was 33, I decided to write a blog.  A few fellow bloggers suggested I get a Twitter account that ties into my blog.  I’ve always shied away from Twitter- people who “tweet” speak a different language.  # signs, @ symbols, RT, FF… it took a while just to comprehend what the hell these people were saying.  But I’m a smart girl (shut up)- I signed up and figured it out.  And you know what ELSE I figured out?  All I had to do was put a little “@” symbol in front of my boyfriend William Shatner’s name and it would send a message DIRECTLY TO HIM.  Yes, SERIOUSLY.  Twitter is a celebrity stalker’s dream.

I made a very important decision that day.  It was time to end things with my boyfriend William Shatner.  My kids are getting older, I’m married now, and… well… he has no clue who I am.  BUT before the big break up, I wanted to give him a chance to wish me a happy birthday.  So for the past 3 weeks, I’ve sent him a tweet every other day in hopes that today he will remember to write back.  He’s 80, y’all… remembering ANYTHING is a SUPER big deal.

SOME OF MY LOVE TWEETS

PMuffintop

Good morning @WilliamShatner : I'm your biggest fan; I've seen all of your movies. Even Miss Congeniality, which I forgive you for.

PMuffintop

Good morning, @WilliamShatner , I hope you're enjoying this Sunday morning as much as I enjoyed Star Trek 2: The Wrath of Khan.

PMuffintop

Dear @WilliamShatner , I (heart) you. Denny Crane.

PMuffintop

Dear @WilliamShatner , if you and George Takei entered into a battle to the death, you would totally win.

PMuffintop

I'm on a drug, it's called @WilliamShatner . It'll make your face melt!

PMuffintop

Dear @WilliamShatner I'm sorry I haven't written in a few days- my son's bday was this weekend. Speaking of birthdays, mine is March 24th.

PMuffintop

Dear @WilliamShatner Three things: 1. Good Morning. 2. PRICELINE NEGOTIATOR. 3. 11 days until my birthday. That is all.

PMuffintop

Dear @WilliamShatner I ran in my first 3.2 mile race this weekend.  That’s 5k in Canadian.

PMuffintop

Happy birthday, @WilliamShatner ! I know technically you're 80, but I'm sure you priceline-negotiated that down to 60 or 70.

PMuffintop

Dear @WilliamShatner don't forget my birthday tomorrow! I know, I'm being silly- I'm sure you have it written down. Kthanksloveyoubye

PMuffintop

Are you there @WilliamShatner ? It's me, PMuff. You will NEVER guess what today is!

Some of my tweeps (a "tweep" is a person you follow on Twitter.  LOOK AT THAT APPLIED KNOWLEDGE!)  even decided to help me with my cause.

 

hateyouprobably 

If @WilliamShatner doesn't wish @PMuffintop a Happy Birthday tomorrow, the shat will hit the fan.

21stcenturymrs 

Dear @WilliamShatner, here on the east coast it's officially @PMuffintop's birthday. Could you wish her a happy birthday?

 

I’m SURE he will respond.  Unless, of course, he’s just too heartbroken over the break-up which is THE ONLY logical reason I can think of for his silence.  

Phew, I feel so much better now with that secret off of my chest.  Time to go celebrate my birthday Princess-style… which includes a visit to the accountant and to the vet.  MAYBE a trip to Bed Bath & Beyond, I just don’t know if I’ll have enough time.

TTFN,

AMo

Need a Chris Brown birthday card? Of course you do.

It’s about that time of the year again where I pretend that I am SUPER excited to turn yet another year older.  You know, that time of the year when people give you cards with ultra hilarious messages that are usually accompanied by an image of an old person doing something equally as hilarious?  Or maybe the card has a sweet and tender message accompanied by some form of soft baby animal.  I don’t know about you, but most greeting cards make me either roll my eyes or vomit in my mouth a little bit.  ANYONE can be a greeting card writer, which is why they are so bad.  Really, all you need to establish your career in this field are the following qualifications:

1.       You cannot be funny.

2.       You have to have a pulse.

3.       You must think that kittens are the most adorable creatures on the planet.

In my new-found old age, I’ve decided that if I am going to complain about something, I need to offer a solution.  My biggest problem with greeting cards is that they just seem so… INSINCERE.  My solution?  My NEW LINE of greeting cards… “Keepin' it real” by PMuff.   

Do you need a Chris Brown birthday card?  Of course you do.

Looking for that card for your rebellious teenager with just the right amount of "nag"?  Look no further!

What doctor's office DOESN'T need a hilarious wine IV card to send to their patients?

Here's one for that passive-aggressive spiteful sibling in your life (click to zoom)!

And of course, a birthday card for any special princesses you may know.  Secretly, princesses LOVE birthday cards even though sometimes they tell you differently. 

Princesses are SO high-maintenence.

TTFN, 

AMo

It’s been confirmed: I am awesome.

Well folks, it’s been confirmed.   Thanks to my girl Jess from the blog Ramblings of an Emotional Idiot, I am now 100% sure that I rock.  Why, you ask?  Jess has presented me with “The Cherry on Top” award!  And what exactly does this mean?  My 5 year old asked the same question when I told him about the confirmation of awesomeness.

Me: I won an award!

DMo: You DID!? For what?

Me: For some things that I wrote!

DMo: WOW!  Because you have great handwriting?

Me: Well… no…

DMo: Do you get a trophy or a medal?

Me: Um… well just this little button right here:

DMo: Oh... OK… Can I have a snack?

So my 5 year old obviously is too young to understand how awesome this honor that has been bestowed on me actually is.  He’ll understand in a few years.  You know, when he’s a teenager and in therapy due to my over-sharing blog.  His Dr. can explain how awesome this award was, I mean, I’m paying him enough- right?!  

Moving on from my rage over my non-existent overcharging therapist… there are two conditions for accepting this award.  The first is, I have to list three things I love about myself.  WHOA.  That’s going to be tough.  ONLY three things?  But I’ve just been confirmed awesome?!  OK, I’ll TRY.

1.       My hair.  I mean, just LOOK at it.  It’s like a glowing mane of awesomeness.  It has just the right amount of Microsoft Painted fluff to hold my tiara securely in place.  If I had to compare my hair to a majestic animal, I would be so bold as to say a unicorn.

2.       My kids.  They’re yet another extension of my awesomeness.  This award really belongs to them considering they write about 90% of my blog’s material.

3.       I love how down to Earth I am.  That is really hard to achieve when you are this awesome.

The other condition to this award is that I need to pass it along to 5 other bloggers that I adore.

1.       Southern MOMentum – The girls over at Southern MOMentum never fail to make me laugh.  Also, they have SUPER awesome contributing bloggers.  Check THIS ONE out- I dare say she is even MORE awesome than I am.

2.       The 21^st Century Mrs. – LOVE her blog!  And anyone that invents a game called Leprechaun Bingo is awesome in my book.

3.       Disco Lemonade – SumSum is not only hilarious, but she is also a fellow Michigan native.  Double awesome! I’m also giving her this award just to try and bribe her to write more often.  

4.       Yeah. Good Times – I think that my avatar and the Good Times avatar are distantly related cousins, what do you think?  Not only is this woman awesome, one post featured a cat vomiting a rainbow.  SOLD! 

5.     Ninja Mom Blog – Do I even need to give you a reason why this blog is awesome?  It’s called NINJA MOM BLOG.  Enough said.

That’s all I’ve got, peeps- happy Day After St. Patrick’s Day to you.  Take some aspirin, wipe off the day-old smeared mascara from your face, and for God’s sake BRUSH YOUR TEETH- you’ll feel better. 

And for any of you who were wondering, the word “awesome” was used 14 times in this post.  Awesome.  Make that 15.

TTFN, 

AMo

My semi-irrational fear of furniture salesmen

9 months ago, my husband and I flew to Georgia to perform our 3-day marathon house hunt.  Because we were moving from Ohio, we had very little time to look and even LESS time to make a decision.   We selected our house out of the billions we saw because we fell in love with the neighborhood.  The NEIGHBORHOOD- not the house.  It’s not that I don’t like our house; I just don’t particularly know how to furnish it.  Our previous house was about 1500 sq. ft. smaller than this one, so we have quite a few empty rooms.  My kids call them the “dance floor rooms”.  About a month ago, I was about to give up, hang disco balls on the ceilings, and start an underground rave.

Why would I give up, you ask?  Well, it’s simple.  The minute I walk into a furniture store, a wave of anxiety washes over me.   I know THEY are near.  

I am afraid of furniture salesmen.

After walking past my plethora of empty rooms this morning, I decided I’d had enough.  This fear of mine is irrational… right?  Furniture salesmen aren’t really THAT scary…  So I hopped in my car determined to buy what I WANTED, NOT what the salesman wanted me to buy.

As soon as I arrived, my palms got sweaty.  I felt nervous, but it was time to go in.

I should have turned around then, but I pressed forward.

 

I'm now a proud owner of a teal and rose sectional.  SURE I came in there for a dining room table, and yes I realize it doesn't match anything I own- but really, this sofa was the right purchase for me... my BFF salesperson said so.

Do disco balls go with teal?

TTFN,

AMo

Joe Biden is TOTALLY stalking me.

Did you know Joe Biden has a Facebook page?  No, not that fake FAN page… a REAL one.  He’s sort of under an “assumed name”, but I totally know it’s him.  I stumbled across it a few minutes ago accidentally while performing the Google search “Who is the Vice President?”  Yes, I KNOW… how irresponsible of me to not know who the Vice President is.  But hey, it’s not MY fault… he hasn’t shot anyone or invented the internet or ANYTHING!

So I thought I’d share a little of his page with you, you may need to click on the images to enlarge them.  Here’s his profile.  Apparently, he’s not a huge fan of Idaho.  

Here are some of his statuses.  Wait, that Miley Cyrus link ISN’T REAL?!

JDogg is also a fan of FourSquare.

Here are some of JDogg’s interests.  Who DOESN’T hate when someone secretly puts your name into the Goblet of Fire?!

Oh, hello…. What’s this?!

 Thanks, Joe Biden, I like you too!

Happy Friday, everyone!

TTFN,

AMo

Monkey Joe’s is the Devil.

I can’t believe it, my son turned 5 on Saturday.  Because we had been celebrating his birthday all month long, we decided that there would be no party on the actual date.  What I’d like to know is, when did birthdays turn into Mardi Gras?  When I was a kid, you got 1 DAY of celebration.  You know, your ACTUAL birthday. 

However, all of the prior celebrating was long forgotten when the actual day rolled around.

DMo:  I can’t WAIT for my party tomorrow!

Me:  D, we already celebrated your birthday.  You remember, at Disneyworld?  And again at school?  Is this ringing a bell?

DMo: But MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM, ALL 5 YEAR OLDS GO TO MONKEY JOE'S!  I WANT TO GO TO MONKEY JOOOOOOOOOOOOOE’S! PLEEEEASSSSSEEEEEEEEE?

Me: *Shudder*

If I had to describe hell, I think it would look a lot like the overcrowded bounce house of death that is Monkey Joe’s.  Look, I get it.  Bouncing is fun.  BUT bouncing with 500 other sugar-fueled children who are willing to crawl over your lifeless body to go down a slide is NOT.

However... because I felt a tad guilty about not having a birthday party for my son, we decided to extend DMopalooza and headed to Monkey Joe’s.

As soon as I stepped in the door, I realized that the next two hours of my life would be sheer torture.  I remember thinking that they should offer armor or fake sumo suit rentals- I know I for one would have taken advantage of that offer.

If I had to guess, I’d say that there were about 1.5 billion people packed into the place.  When you first walk in, you see several large-screen TVs with very comfortable looking chairs for those parents that decide that they don’t need to supervise their children.  I’m sure there will be people who disagree with me about this- but this is my opinion regarding the parental TV haven.  IF YOUR KIDS ARE YOUNG ENOUGH TO THINK THAT BOUNCING IS AN AWESOME TIME, THEY NEED TO BE SUPERVISED.  Quit watching the f’ing TV for an hour and make sure your kid isn’t being “THAT kid”.  Who is “THAT kid”, you ask?  He would be the one who is using the smaller kids as a step stool to climb the netted walls.  “THAT kid” turns the bouncers into an Ultimate Fighting Championship Octogan.  I watched “THAT kid” (who I’d estimate to be about 6 years old) shove a 2 year old into a wall for absolutely no reason approximately 5 times.  But hey, I’m sure his parents were completely engrossed in the ESPN2 table tennis world championship that was on at the time so they were unable to do anything about it.  

I decided against my better judgment to let my youngest son go into one of the dreaded bouncers.  After he walked into the tiny maze that led to a slide, “THAT kid” entered right behind him.  As he began slamming into the walls and trampling the younger kids, my son froze at the top of the slide paralyzed with fear.  He wouldn’t come out.  I knew at this point I was going to have to go in and get him- so I crawled in (with my shoes on) to rescue him.  About 5 seconds after I crawled in, a power-drunk 13-year old started hysterically blowing her whistle to get me out of the bouncer.  MA’AM, YOU CAN’T BE IN THERE WITH YOUR SHOES ON!  YOU HAVE TO GET OUT NOW!  After briefly fantasizing about body slamming the whistle blower for calling me ma’am, I calmly told her I was trying to rescue my son.  About 3 seconds later, I was pummeled to the ground.  It all happened so quickly- I wasn’t sure what was going on.  But then I saw him.  My arch enemy “THAT kid” was back, and had knocked me over.  Between the frantic whistles, the screaming, and having just been run over, I slumped up the ladder, grabbed my boy and slid down the slide.  I was reprimanded once more by the prepubescent shoe police and went on my way.

I looked at my phone to see how long we’d been there thus far: 17 minutes.  17 minutes in Monkey Joe’s time is about 7 hours in real time. Exactly 53 minutes and 27 seconds later, we finally escaped.  The kids passed out about 2 nanoseconds after we got into the car. My husband and I sat very quietly for a while- finally I said something.

Me:  I have to tell you something.

SMo:  What?

Me: I hate Monkey Joe’s.

SMo:  Then I promise we won’t have your birthday party there.

I may or may not have punched him after that comment.  But I think what my husband was getting at is this.  It’s not about me anymore.  It’s about my precious angels who’ve been brainwashed by a giant purple gorilla to believe that Monkey Joe's is the ONLY acceptable place to celebrate their birthday.  So congratulations Monkey Joe.  You may have won this battle, but you won’t win the war.  And seriously, think about the armor rental thing.

TTFN, 

AMo

FYI- I’ll be posting my most recent entries at Princess Muffintop on Facebook instead of my personal account.  So click on the Muffin to the right if you’re interested!