Say, what’s happening in Assholeport? I have been keeping you all in the dark, no? Well, you’ll be DELIGHTED to know it’s the usual collection of domestic mishmash. ASSHOLES! They’re Just Like You (tee em)!

Tea Party!

Assholes have tea parties for their kids, just like YOU.

Seriously, it was pretty cool. I gave the girls a five minute talk on the history of tea parties, because that’s how we roll up in the librarian’s hizzy, and they drank mint and hibiscus tea and et lil’ sandwiches, quiche, fruit salad, and something like cheesecake that was in mini puff pastries for dessert.

Companion did all the cooking and preparation, and I did the hostessing and place setting. We ducked into the scullery, aka behind the fridge, and they started doing stupid things like dipping their fruit into their tea. Led by my child, of course, who is a show-off in a crowd. Six- and seven-year-olds, my GAH.

Weenie sandwiches with cream cheese filling. There was bacon flavor, chive flavor, and traditional cucumber with watercress. Companion denounced them as nasty. They were, kind of. If I had a tea party, I would serve taleggio, jalapeno poppers, and raw oysters. It would be something to write home about. Or maybe not, because you’d probably be in the bathroom for the rest of the afternoon.

Franny Changes Her Mind; Strudel Has No Choice

Franny, having grown tired of pink hair, insisted on having it done blue. Midnight blue. She is off on her two-day school camping trip today. I think two days is too long for the first year, but she’ll make it. And she can be tired and grumpity at my ex’s house when she gets back, so bullet dodged.

Midnight blue! WHOA OH OH OHOHOH! Behold, A Mullet.

On Saturday I woke up and persecuted Hurricane Strudel with a hairbrush as I do every day, and she screamed and said “OW OW OWWW!” So I snapped and said: HAIR. CUT. Today.

Before:

Wild Rockarolla at the library, an hour before. I was a little sad to see the mane fall to the floor, but now brushing takes ten seconds and three strokes. Woot!

After:

Nice jamstache, there, and thanks for sitting still for two seconds so I can snap you. It’s a good thing cameras are really fast, because if we had to do one of those old school portraits where you have to hold still for a minute, they it would be me, Companion, Franny, and our little nebulous blob, Blurrina.

She is SO naughty lately. Today I sat down to draw and I drew one panel which takes about five minutes. Then I heard the water running upstairs so I legged it up there speedy quick. The sink was halfway full, and when I looked into her room, I could see my entire collection of wrapping paper (every occasion) was unwound and crinkled. In five minutes.

So if I owe you a present anytime soon, the wrapping will be “fashionably distressed.” Because that’s how we roll at Casa del Asshole.

AND, today I jumped into June yoga immersion, which is loads better than November, lemmie tell ya. I woke up at a quarter to six as usual, and it was light out, and there were actually people out walking dogs and crap, instead of just tumbleweeds and darkness. It was cheering. My month-and-a-half off has made me less bendy and endurance-y, so I need to go even if I’m flying and experiencing vertigo after, which is partially why I took time off. If I get dizzy after BlogHer, I need to suck it up and go anyway.

I’m off…there’s some taleggio and grapes waiting for me upstairs. Taleggio. I wish I knew how to quit you.

Maybe if I understood how to behave in a sushi bar, I would just go there instead.

Also, you should look at my next babydaddy, Sarah Silverman, treat Paris Hilton to some serious pre-jail PWNAGE.

Finally, my Beyonce itches!