Modern Scalpers

Today I was on facebook, scrolling through my feed and I saw an interesting post from a community swap page.

This person had FIVE Hatchimals for sale for $100 or best offer. When asked where they got them, they claimed,”bought them for the kids and they didn’t want them.”

Let’s back up a bit.

If you aren’t aware, Hatchimals are this strange Tamogatchi/Furby hybrid toy that hatches from an egg over a period of time. You can watch it hatch right in front of you, and you have to clean up the “eggshells” once it comes out. (It’s not a huge mess like you think. They’re just small plastic bits.) These toys are like the modern day Cabbage Patch Kids, or Power Rangers action figures.

They are hot and in serious demand, so much so that stores have run out and aren’t certain when they’ll get a new shipment in.

One reason they have run out is because of people, like the seller I mentioned above, knowing full and well that it’s in serious demand, buying up all that the store had, and proceeded to sell them on BSOT (buy, sell or trade) facebook pages for an inflated price (Retail price is around $45), all to make a profit. They know parents these days aren’t going to tell their children, “No, I can’t get you that because X.”

I know not having this toy may upset your little angel, but for the love of God, do not buy these toys from the scalpers. I can handle ticket scalping (You’re still a jackass). I can handle other types of scalping, but this is doing it at the expense of CHILDREN. Instead, find out when the store will get a new stock, or keep an eye on the website (I will include the link at the end of my bitching) and be ready to buy it then. Explain to your child that people suck, and explain to them what the person has done, and why they did it, making certain to include the phrase, “because they’re a greedy asshole who is out to make a quick buck off the backs of parents just trying to make their kids happy, as opposed to getting a job.” Promise your child that as soon as one becomes available, you will get it. Kids, for the most part, are understanding and will be alright with waiting. Unless you have given everything to your child on a silver plate, and have never told them no, therefore you raised a spoiled brat.

That kid won’t understand. They’ll piss and moan like an impotent jerk and you’ll be tempted to hand $200 to a scalper just to shut them up.

Also be certain to tell them that the great philosopher Jagger once said, “You can’t always get what you want.”

The Great Philosopher Jagger

Because if you buy from these scalpers, you are essentially rewarding them for their behavior. You are telling them, “being morally bankrupt and greedy is just fine! It’s the year 2016 after all. You be what makes you happy.” Then this person will turn around, and the next time something like this happens, they’ll do it again, and you’ll spend money with them again, and they will turn another profit, and not learn a lesson.

Basically, I think these people need to be left with a dozen of these toys that people refuse to buy “second hand.” Let them be out all that money and have those stupid toys laying around. Then just maybe, if there’s ever another hot Christmas toy, they won’t buy them all up like the jackass they are.

Just maybe.

Hatchimals Official Site

 

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I am now the proud mother of a teenager/ My rainbows and cupcakes delivery

Thirteen years ago today (truly, it doesn’t sound right when I say it. Thirteen years? Bloody hell.) I was in the hospital, after having been induced, feeling a little like a celebrity. So many people were there including: My grandpa (god rest his soul), my father, my mother, my sister, my now ex-husband, my cousin (who had never seen a vaginal delivery, despite having three children. Hers were all c-section, and she had asked me if she could sit in. I told her yes, because, why not?) and my cousin’s cousin!

Long about 8:00 in the evening, I came out of a Stadol induced haze. My labor pains earlier had gotten quite bad, enough that I asked for drugs, and drugs I got! By this time my grandfather and uncle had gone home, but most everyone else was still there. I sat up and looked at my mother and said, “I think I have to take a shit.”

My mother leans down and says, “What?”

I repeat, with a little more gusto than a whisper from being on drugs all day, “I HAVE TO SHIT!”

My mother pauses for a nanosecond, and then her eyes widen and she tells me, “No! Don’t shit! [J.Theberge’s father] Get the doctor!”

My dad, who had been mulling around most of the day, getting the food and drink for people looked up and said, “huh? Why?”

Then my mother said those words to him, “SHE HAS TO SHIT!” (mind you, my mother is currently a near 40 year RN, so she knows exactly what she’s doing, and talking about. She was merely repeating what I had said.)

My father and now ex-husband rush from the room, barking as they rushed down the hallway, saying that we needed the doctor nowt because the baby was coming.

Finally, he gets in there, and I remember complaining that the man had huge, “sausage fingers.” It was quite exhausting, and at one point I had my sister and ex-husband holding onto a leg while I pushed.

At 8:25 a little bundle of child came flying into the world (The doctor stood on the other side of the room with a catcher’s mitt. Don’t believe me? 😉 ) and they threw him onto my lap (bloody and gross) whilst I delivered the afterbirth, which I did NOT eat, and I did NOT take home with me (you gross people). It was promptly put into a biohazard bag and disposed of.

I also clamped the cord. Oh the horror, eh?

I also had more stitches than Buford Pusser (Thank you Jeff Foxworthy. I did not understand that joke when I was a wee one. As an adult who has popped out other humans, I totally get it.)

This has been the labor and delivery story of my firstborn. I’ve noticed those are quite popular online anymore, because people think (for some strange reason) that they are magical, rainbows and cupcakes moments, that somehow make me a primordial earth goddess of womanhood (only if I do it the *RIGHT* way. In a hospital? WITH DRUGS? NOT EATING THE PLACENTA? CLAMPING THE CORD?! NO SKIN TO SKIN IMMEDIATELY? OMG, I should have just tossed the kid into the orphanage because that was not the *RIGHT* way.)

I also didn’t breastfeed. 🙂 (Oh yeah, jump all down my throat about how every bit of what I did was wrong, and if I had only done it the *RIGHT* way, I would be deserving of a medal, and it would have been a magical moment.)

Natural birthers, lactivists… some of the worst bunch to ever grace the internet.

Anyways, a wonderful, happy birthday to my TEENAGER. I have a TEENAGER. Jesus, where did the time go? The next time I blink, he will be an adult. I don’t like this. I don’t like aging, and I don’t enjoy my children growing so fast, however, tis a part of life.

God, I just realized, I grow closer to being a grandparent every day.

Remind me to have their father explain why condoms are great. I refuse to be a grandmother before I hit 40.

But then I could be a GILF, so it’s a win-win either way.

I dedicate this song to you, my teenaged son that acts just like me. I’m sure my mother is still trying to figure out how to be a fly on the wall.

Happy Birthday, son!

 

Birthdays!

Happy birthday to my youngest clone. He’s a strong child who has survived asshole kids (seriously, our neighborhood has some asshole kids) and a Macedonian abandonment. Luckily for me, he hasn’t mentioned him once. That’s the best part about children. They are resilient.
So happy eleventh birthday, my youngest sprout. I dedicate Mulans, “I’ll make a man out of you,” to you on this day!

Love always,
Mum

Edit: to anyone who says this is somehow a horrible song to dedicate to my son, please butt out. Its an inside joke, and trust me my son loves the song. Unless you live here, you won’t get it, and will assume the worst. I don’t want or need your input on that.
Thanks. 🙂

Unexpectedly knocked up

That would make a really great Harlequin title, yes? I mean, that’s practically half of their romance novels subplot. Ironic I say that, when my book had a simular subplot. Okay, it’s the same. Melanie gets unexpectedly knocked up by Declan, who is a carrier of a bad birth defect, and low and behold, they find out she is too.

But I digress. That’s  not what I wanted to say.

I just wanted to say:

Congrats on your pregnancy. That’s actually hilarious. Birth control never works when not taken properly, and I can’t bank on you being intelligent enough to take it properly.

Don’t ask me how I know. I just do. Good luck with that.

Number 27!

Thank you to everyone who has picked up a free copy of my book. I seem to have made it to number 27 in sagas on Amazon.

Its surprising, and wonderful to hear, so thank you very much. I hope to have new material out at some point this summer, but mind you, it will be different than Subject Alpha.

I was told I should tell more of myself, because some have expressed an interest. I’m not sure why, but they have. I figured most would learn about me through my incessant complaining on this blog.

A tidbit of mine is I have an autistic child, and you know what? I can’t stand people who say autism means damaged. My son isn’t damaged. He is so smart, and just recently made honor roll. Talk about being a proud mum!

I will get this out of the way. No, vaccines didn’t cause it, and neither did gmos or gluten or whatever the new scare of the week is. Vaccinate your kids, for God’s sake.

My other child is an avid gamer. If there’s a game, he’s going to play it, and probably beat it. I don’t do that, “no video games, lets be mindful and do crafts in our tv free room instead,” crap. If it’s one thing I can’t stand, its sanctimommys. I also allow this child to play pretty much whatever game he wants, and we let him see deadpool. He’s eleven. Now is where I have tons of people frothing at the mouth, ready to type out a poorly written response as to why I am such a terrible mother.

If you were about to do that, don’t bother. See, I saw that movie too, and the hilarious aspect was every one was flipping out over the sexual content, particularly deadpool getting butt plumbed by his lady on women’s day. That scene was implied and it was barely ten seconds. Twenty if you count the montage. Yet, nobody said a word about the violence in the movie. There is a scene, where he shoots people and their heads explode. There is brain matter on the ground, yet that’s not what concerned everyone. I found that hilarious.

Now, I was raised in the ancient 80s and 90s, and I was allowed to watch pretty much anything I wanted to, however, if boobs or butt came on, I had to turn my head until it was over, but when Jason Vorhees gutted a girl, that was okay.

I think boobs and sex are the least of my worries and my kid is old enough and mature enough to know about it, and what it constitutes.

So long story short, butt out. You do you and yours, but try not to get sanctimonious with others. Nobody likes a sanctimommy.

Have a great day!

Hanson’s Mmmbop

Today’s shit song I analyze and respond to, is Hanson’s, “MMMbop.” If you haven’t heard this song, I’ll assume you’re a child. In that case, you shouldn’t be reading my blog. There’s lots of naughty words and I am a bad influence.
Anyways, here we go!

MMMBop

Oh oh oh oh oh
Yeah
(Yeah, 1997 was a bad year for music. Time to analyze this piece of shit)
You have so many relationships in this life
Only one or two will last
(… Well, Taylor you have a point. Two years ago, I thought J would be a friend forever. Then he betray me!)
You go through all the pain and strife
Then you turn your back and they’re gone so fast
(Well, that’s true. I mean, it was pretty quick the way he dropped me like a bad habit)
Oh yeah
And they’re gone so fast, yeah
Oh
So hold on the ones who really care
In the end they’ll be the only ones there
(But how do I know who really cares, Taylor? If I knew, I would.)
And when you get old and start losing your hair
Tell me who will still care
Can you tell me who will still care?
(… No, actually I can’t. I mean, I have a pretty good idea who will, but two years ago I did too, and some of those people I thought cared are gone. Keep going…)

Mmmbop, ba duba dop
Ba du bop, ba duba dop
(Yeah, I think this chorus is where people’s ears start bleeding)
Ba du bop, ba duba dop
Ba du
Yeah
Mmmbop, ba duba dop
Ba du bop, Ba du dop
(… get to the point, Taylor)
Ba du bop, Ba du dop
Ba du
Yeah

Oh yeah
In an Mmmbop they’re gone
(… okay, this is true. In mere seconds people you thought cared will leave you)
Yeah yeah

Plant a seed, plant a flower, plant a rose
(Gardening tips now?)
You can plant any one of those
Keep planting to find out which one grows
(Wait a minute, this is a metaphor for friendships.)
It’s a secret no one knows
It’s a secret no one knows
Oh, no one knows
(… you know Taylor, you have a point. Planting the seeds alludes to forging new friendships, and sometimes those seeds don’t grow, just like relationships!)

Mmmbop, ba duba dop
Ba du bop, ba duba dop
Ba du bop, ba duba dop
Ba du, yeah
(This chorus. Not sure what these nonsensical sounds have to do with anything, but you needed something to catch the ear, right?)
Mmmbop, ba duba dop
Ba du bop, Ba du dop
Ba du bop, Ba du dop
Ba du, yeah
(Stuck in your head, isn’t it readers?)

Oh
Yeah oh
(Oh?)
In an mmm bop they’re gone
(Mmbop must be a metaphor for a short amount of time. You’re right, Taylor. In an instant, they leave you.)
Oh yeah oh
In an mmmbop they’re gone
In an mmm bop they’re not there
(In an instant, they ghost you. They stop caring.. ..)
In an mmmbop they’re gone
In an mmm bop they’re not there
In an mmmbop they’re gone
In an mmmbop they’re not there
(You’ve said this. I get it.)
In an mmmbop they’re gone
In an mmmbop they’re not there
Until you lose your hair
(They’re not there until I lose my hair? Wait a second, losing your hair is a sign of growing old, and nearing the end of your life! Meaning, those who leave you, especially in a terrible way, won’t come back until they are near death, and they feel they have to make it right!)
Oh
But you don’t care
(And by that point, so much time has passed that you’ve moved on. Oh my God! )

Mmmbop, ba duba dop
Ba du bop, ba duba dop
Ba du bop, ba duba dop
Ba du, yeah
Mmmbop, ba duba dop
Ba du bop, Ba du dop
Ba du bop, Ba du dop
Ba du, yeah
(The chorus. Jesus.)
Yeah
Oh yeah oh oh
So hold on the ones who really care
In the end they’ll be the only ones there
(You’re right, Taylor! But its hard to figure out who your true friends are! Hang on to them! I will, Taylor! I will hold on to the ones who really care. *Wipes tear* I will.)
And when you get old and start losing your hair
Tell me who will still care
(My true friends will still care. The fake ones, no. Are you saying to find out who my true friends are, and hug them? I will, Taylor!)
Can you tell me who will still care?
(Right now, I’m not sure I can…)
Oh care

Mmmbop, ba duba dop
Ba du bop, ba duba dop
Ba du bop, ba duba dop
Ba du, yeah
Mmmbop, ba duba dop
Ba du bop, Ba du dop
Ba du bop, Ba du dop
Ba du,

Can you tell me? oh
No you can’t ’cause you don’t know
(No, I can’t tell you who will be there for me when life nears its end…)
Can you tell me? oh
You say you can but you don’t know
(I thought I could tell you, but you’re right. You’re saying to analyze people better, figure out who wants to be there for me, right?)
Can you tell me? oh
Which flower’s going to grow?
(I don’t know which relationships will flourish… I wish I did.)

No you can’t ’cause you don’t know
(*wipes tear* I don’t, Taylor.)
Can you tell me? oh
If it’s going to be a daisy or a rose?
(A daisy is a metaphor for friendships. A rose is a metaphor for love, right? I have no idea who will love me, or who will be a damn daisy!)
You say you can but you don’t know
Can you tell me? oh
which flower’s going to grow?
No you can’t ’cause you don’t know
Can you tell me? oh
You say you can but you don’t know
Oh yeah
You say you can but you don’t know
You dont know
You dont know, oh
(*sobs* I don’t know, Taylor. I promise, I will try and find out who really cares about me, and who is just using me. I promise, Taylor!)

Mmmbop, ba duba dop
Ba du bop, ba duba dop
Ba du bop, ba duba dop
Ba du, yeah
Mmmbop, ba duba dop
Ba du bop, Ba du dop
Ba du bop, Ba du dop
Ba du, care

Oh
Can u tell me? oh
No you can’t ’cause you don’t know
Can u tell me? oh
You say you can but you don’t know
Can u tell me? oh
No you can’t ’cause you don’t know
Can u tell me?
You say you can but you don’t know

… holy shit. THIS IS DEEP! We thought this song was just a novelty, that it was just a catchy piece of shit written to sell albums! This song is amazing! What a message!

Stay tuned for my next, “This is Deep,” post, where I take songs everyone thought was bad, and prove it’s actually deep.

Until next time!

Oh my son, my blessed son

Yesterday, my son and I expressed an interest in shitface farthead (that’s the ex beasties nickname today) continuing conversing with the son. To be fair, the son liked him. So, I made mention to the girlfriend (convoluted story) tell the ex friend because the ex friend is still a coward and refuses to talk to me at all. I was okay with the idea, because my son isn’t me, and my son understands.

Until today.

He woke up with revenge on his brain and made a vow when he’s grown up, he’s going to find this guy and make him pay. I was laughing as I joked with him, then I realized, my son may very well be serious.

I know it’s amusing right now, and people laugh, but imagine if my kid lets this stew for seven years, and trains in combat, and in seven years, hops the next flight to (insert broke second world nation here) and goes through with it? That’s the kind of story they told in ancient times.

And that’s the story I’m going to write, whether or not my son grows up and brutally maims my ex friend. I won’t be able to stop him. He’ll be an adult and capable of his own decisions.

Look out ex bestie. You have seven years.