More Talk About Poop

You'll all be thrilled to know that after three days of standing in a bathtub full of cat shit, I finally solved the problem.

Here is a list of things that did NOT fix the clog:

1 bottle of Drano Max Gel

2 bottles of Liquid-Plumr Foaming Pipe Snake

2 cans of Liquid-Plumr Power Jet
Several applications of Drain Out Crystal Clog Remover

Regular household plumbing snake (toilet auger)

Not so regular, specially purchased 25 foot plumbing snake

And before you start in on the "You shouldn't flush all those chemicals down the drain in such a short time, don't you know you have single-handedly ruined the environment and when we all die, we know just who to blame!!!" lecture, I will stop you right now and say that I've already heard it all from Man-friend, who stood behind me while I leaned into that bathtub full of shit and yelled at me-

"You need to learn to respect chemicals! They could kill you and Monkey-Butt and the entire world!!! What are you doing? Stop pouring chemicals down the drain, LET ME THINK ABOUT THIS PROBLEM, HOW CAN I SOLVE THE PROBLEM WHEN YOU KEEP POURING CHEMICALS DOWN THE DRAIN????!!!!"

And I was all "Dude, have you met my father? I would rather die a million chemically induced deaths than have him come fix this clog for me. There's no time to think, just hand me the f&*%ing Drano!"

As a matter of fact, I'm gonna add one more thing to the list of things that didn't fix the clog:

1 boyfriend







But...here is what did fix the clog:
2 bottles of Liquid Lightning Drain Opener

+

closing off all the drains and flushing two sinkfuls of water simultaneously towards the clog, causing it to burst out. (sorry no graphic for that one)

+ 1 bottle of cheap vodka


After all is said and done, I can say without a doubt that 1) Plumbers are underpaid and 2) I am now qualified to be a plumber.

And lest you think that I would never allow my son near another litter box, he was given that chore back immediately after I finished that bottle of vodka, had a quick shower, and my nerves were settled, except now he has to scoop it into a bag and carry it out to the trash can. Because no matter what, mommy is still lazy and would rather spend weeks standing in a bathtub of cat shit than clean the box regularly.

There Is Poop In My Bathtub

I'm going to start out by saying that I buy the all natural, pine, biodegradable, flushable kitty litter for many reasons but number one being that I'm lazy and I like that if I don't clean it for three days, the litter box still smells pine fresh (unlike the other stuff), and I can just flush it down the toilet rather than having to walk all the way out to the trash can with a bag of poo (unlike the other stuff).

That being said, not even this kitty litter is flushable when you pour 5 lbs. of it down the toilet at once, as my son proved unequivocally last night.

I'm going to finish by saying that apparently, all drains lead to the bathtub.

National Hug Someone Day

The staff* at "There's Never A Line For The Men's Room" is officially declaring today, September 11, National Hug Someone You Love Day.

Go ahead, hug someone. And if you can't find someone that you love to hug, then hug anyone. And if you can't find anyone at all to hug, well here's a nice big one for you-



*For the sake of full disclosure, I will admit that by staff I mean myself and my two very adorable and very unhelpful cats secretaries.

"Special"

This is an everyday, if not multiple times a day occurrence. And even though I want to yell at her for scratching up the screen door, it's very hard when my mind's all "Oh no, what if she does this when I'm not home and gets stuck there for hours?"

Oh my poor, special kitty. She's terrible and cranky and has scratched no less than a dozen children since she's lived with us but she's so damn cute that I can't help but love her.

Seriously, fucking adorable, right?

The Sacrifices We Make

I hate exercise. But man-friend started this thing a couple months ago about "I've always said the woman I'm with has to take care of herself," and I'll be honest, when he said that to me, I was truly tempted to pinch one of his giant man boobs so hard that the nipple would come off. And then stuff it up that oversized ass of his.

"How's that for taking care of myself bitch?"

But I didn't. Because, even though I'm a firm believer in not changing yourself for someone else, he's definitely proven that he's worth making happy and if, in making him happy, I end up with a supermodel's ass...ah well, it might be worth it.

So I started lifting weights about a month ago. Turns out Man-friend used to be a personal trainer and was more than happy to 'customize a workout plan' for me. There goes that other nipple, right up the patooie.

And even though I hatE, haTE, hATE, HATE doing the work, I do enjoy the change I feel. I say feel because I took before pictures and compared them to month later pictures and still can't see one bit of change.

So then it pops into my mind "Hey, what would speed this thing up? I know! Running!" And I go out and buy new sneakers and sports bras, plan my course, psych myself up and get up the next morning, put the kid on the school bus, walk to the end of the driveway, stretch my legs and arms like they do in the movies, take a deep breath, and start running.

Well, it takes about 6.2 seconds to remember the one very important thing I had forgotten...of all the exercises in the world, I hate running the most. It occurs to me that I'd rather do a million crunches than run a mile. But at this point, I'm wearing at least $80 worth of clothing devoted specifically to running, so I'm kind of stuck. And I get really mad because the truth is, I don't even care about exercise, but now I'm doing it all the damn time.

Know what I do care about though? Cheesecake. My grandmother makes a great cheesecake and used to always bring it to family gatherings but no one but me ever ate it and so she barely makes it anymore. So, even though I care immensely about cheesecake, I don't have nearly enough of it in my life right now, and even though I don't give a fuck about back-fat, I have way too much of that.

So I run. I run, run, run and think about cheesecake. I dream about cheesecake. I can taste the cheesecake while I'm eating the garden salad with low fat dressing. I obsess over cheesecake with cherries, and sliced almonds, and lemon curd topping. And I keep reminding myself that this is just one of the sacrifices we make for the ones we love. But so help me, when I ask this man to buy me a $250 bikini to show off this hot body next summer, he better be willing to sacrifice back!

He Sweats Awesome

(Click on picture to enlarge)

And every morning for breakfast, he eats a hearty bowl of "super-cool".

The Truth Is

The truth is, I just really don't like the bitch.

I've tried, I really have. I've tried being nice to her, even defended her in public situations when her name got brought up and other people sucked their teeth and rolled their eyes. And maybe I shouldn't say this in my blog since it's a very public place and people from my real life read it and many are sure to know exactly who I'm talking about and maybe she, herself will read this and it will really hurt her feelings.

But the truth is, I don't really care.

Neither I, nor my son ever asked to have her as part of our lives. And yet, here she is, standing there with a permanent scowl on her face, looking like she just got dipped in a hot vat of herpes. And quite honestly, I don't think it's my job to be nice to her, she who dares to stand where I stood, she who has taken my place and my children and my life. She who can have it all (except the children, I'll fight tooth and nail for the right to love them), but who should not be such a bitch to me because the truth is, I was not the one who cheated her, I was not the one who lied to her, I was not the one who made her trade in her old life for this one.

The truth is, she chose us.

She had opportunities to leave and didn't so now she's as stuck here as I am. And I know that we both hate it. This constant face off, the competition over a man who I stopped caring about three and a half years ago, a man who broke us both and somehow convinced us both that we were the ones to blame. A man who would still keep us both if he could have his way.

But the truth is, I just wish she would go away.

Because it would be easier if she did. Even though I know she's not going anywhere. Even though I know she'll still be standing here long after I'm free to up and leave. Even though I know she's a part of my life from now until we're dead and gone.

But the truth is, I really don't like the bitch and I doubt I ever will.

I Have No Title, How About That For A Title?

Shayne, I loved you from the moment I met you. I'll always remember the times we cuddled up on grandma's couch and read books or watched cartoons; the times we'd go to the park with Shafai and swing on the swings or play basketball; the times when I held you just because...

I'll always miss your smile, your hair, your skin, your voice, your hugs, your kisses, your kindest-always-holding-a-baby-sweetness. So honey, even through all these tears, know that wherever you may be tonight, you are always in our hearts.

Stop This World From Spinning

I don't believe in God. Let's get that out of the way straight off the bat. I used to believe in God and now I don't. I went to Catholic school for 11 years and was taught to believe and I did, but I don't anymore. I tried different forms of Christianity and different religions in general but none of them did it for me either. I thought about it, and thought about it some more. And the end result is that I believe in nature. I believe we live, we die, and the world goes on, end of story. I don't think we humans are anything particularly special, just a bunch of animals that had the fortune, or misfortune depending on how you look at it, of developing brains advanced enough to allow us to speak, to write, to feel, and to be major league idiots. I'm not Agnostic- I don't believe in a higher power but not organized religion. I just do not believe in God. I understand this might change the way you feel about me but I don't care. I don't want to believe in God, and I don't need you to change my mind about it.

A girl died yesterday. My son's cousin. A 15 year old girl. And I don't want to hear about how God must have a reason and that it's meant to be and that if we just trust in him everything will work out in the end. A wonderful, kind, beautiful girl, a girl who had a whole life in front of her, a girl who I've loved for the past nine years, who I held and who held my son, who I watched grow from a little girl and who I looked forward to seeing grow into a woman went swimming, got pulled under by a rip-tide, and is now dead. And there's no fucking reason for it. There's nothing that will make it better. I don't care if her mother goes out and adopts three hundred orphans in her honor or if one of her friends grows up and makes it her mission to rid the world of rip-tides, NOTHING will make her passing worth it. NOTHING will make the loss of such potential acceptable.

I don't believe in God. I don't believe there's a god out there that would allow this to happen, and if he did I would think he'd at least have the decency to stop this world from spinning afterward, even if only for a day or two...so that the ones who love her could have time to cry for what he gave us and then took away.

A Time In His Life He'd Rather Forget

"Look mom I have a nimple."

"A what?"

"A nimple. Right here on my cheek."

"A dimple?"

"Nooooooo."

"A nipple?"

"A NIM-ple."

"You definitely mean a dimple."

"Oh...well what's a nimple?

"I'd say it's a word you just made up that sounds like a cross between dimple and nipple."

"What's a nipple?"

"You know, the things you sucked on, bit, fondled drank from for the first year of your life."

"Ugghhh MOM! I told you I never want to talk about that again."

Eight

My baby turned eight yesterday.

I'd like to think that there are more civilized societies out there, places where kids are better behaved and where they listen to their parents when they tell them "You will stop growing right now!" and that if we lived in one of those places, my son would still be two years old and a cuddly little mix of baby and boy, an adorable little creature who spoke in a language only I understood and who I'd still be able to carry on one hip and there'd be so much meat on his cheeks that when I kissed him, I'd get a mouthful of toddler that would leave an aftertaste of dirt and goldfish crackers on my lips, a flavor so pleasant that I can still taste it sometimes in my dreams.

But alas, we do not live in such a society and my child has allowed yet another birthday to sneak in through his bedroom window late in the night while I slept unsuspectingly in the next room. And even though he's only doing the thing that children are meant to do, I'm still having a hard time forgiving him for all this growing.

This year, in lieu of a birthday party, he decided that he wanted to go to an indoor water park that one of his friends from school had told him about. So on Saturday I took him and two of his friends to a place that could only be described as Chucky Cheese's tropical crackhead cousin's house. CoCoKeys water resorts are combination hotels/water parks/money vacuums with locations throughout the country, and most importantly!, one right here in Connecticut.

When I would tell people what our birthday plans were, every single one of them looked at me like I was crazy because who the hell in their right mind would take three eight-year old boys to a water park filled with hundreds of strangers and no help? But since I have never claimed to be in my right mind, I wasn't worried about it at all and as it turns out, my not right mind was right after all.

These boys were perfectly wonderful. And if you've ever known an eight-year old boy, you'd know how difficult it is for them to be perfectly wonderful for long stretches of time. You'd know how hard it is for them to be constantly nice and well behaved and still and listening when nature has given them perfectly good penises and don't you know? Penises mean you must eventually punch something or jump off something or spit on something because if you don't? Well if you don't, that penis just might fall off.

But these boys didn't get into any trouble and I was so proud of my son and the choices he's made in friends that I bought them all two ice-creams and let them come back to my house and throw baseballs at to each other after we finished at the park. And after their parents came and picked them up, I took that eight-year old son of mine and tucked him into his bed, said goodnight and turned down the light so he could fall asleep like a big boy should. But late that night, I crawled back into his bed and put my arms around him and kissed those cheeks of his long and hard. And for just a minute, I was so sure I could taste that slightest, sweetest flavor of dirt and goldfish crackers and for that split second, he was my baby once again.

Sad But True

Today I decided it would be a good idea to spin around as fast as I could in my computer chair. This lasted for about 30 seconds until I threw up.

I have found at least 4 gray hairs.

I look down on all music made after 1998.

I have a wrinkle.

My favorite thing to do on a Friday night involves reading a good book and cuddling with a seven year old.

Air fresheners excite me.

All the University students in town who used to be the really "cool-sexy-mature-guys" have suddenly become "inappropriately-too-young-to-check-out".

Sex often has to wait until the morning because we can't stay awake late enough on weeknights.

I see cute babies and spontaneously ovulate.

I recently drove over 100 miles and spent over $100.00 to find the perfect dinnerware set.

Teenagers and their excessive displays of public affection annoy me.

Children don't have respect for adults like they did when I was a kid.

My neck and back ache at the end of the day.

A clean toilet is important to me.

Sometimes I only have time to pluck one eyebrow.

I worry about paying bills.

I subscribe to "O" Magazine.

and

If I could go back to 5th grade instead of work, I would totally be okay with the book reports...



I'm starting to suspect I might officially be a grown-up.

The Divine Baby Jesus and Scratchy Butt

Found these Divino Nino Jesus prayer candles at PriceRite yesterday and just had to get them. There were only three left so I grabbed them all. My apologies to anyone who will not get a racially and quite possibly sexually inaccurate Baby Jesus candle because of my greed. Guess you'll just have to pray to Saint Jude instead. There are plenty Saint Jude candles left.

Since I work on a tight budget when grocery shopping I knew I had to sacrifice somewhere else. Now I'm not saying I'm a martyr or anything but instead of the quilted, two-ply toilet paper I'm used to, I bought the store brand single-ply pack to make up the monetary difference. Because nothing says religious devotion like a scratchy ass.

One of my favorite things about this candle is the little stick figure person carrying a cross at the bottom to remind us what happens when he gets older.



My other favorite thing is the prayer on the side which reads:

Divine Baby Jesus, we honor your sacred image. Today and forever, we elect you as lord and owner of this house. Humbly we implore your protection against any harm or evil. Bless and protect all those that reside here and guide them to divine grace, keeping them from harm and sin. (Bless our home.) Amen.

...as if to say "Yes it'd be nice if you say this whole prayer when you light this candle but in case you're feeling lazy, you can just sum it up into a nice little 'Bless our home' and call it a day.

I'd Like To Dedicate This Song To You.

My sister turned me onto this series, Flight of the Conchords a few months ago and even though this is way back from the pilot episode, it's still one of my favorites.

I might venture to say this is the best song I've ever heard, but with all the crap that they're putting on the radio now, that really isn't that hard to believe is it?

So now, I'd like to dedicate this song to you...the most beautiful girl in the room.

A Letter To My Sister

Dear Michelle,

When you go around telling people how horrible I was to you growing up, I want you to look back at this picture and remember that I HELD YOUR DRESS UP SO YOUR BOOBIES WOULDN'T SHOW!!!

Love,
Your Sister

When It Comes To Penises

"Why do you only date black men?"

It was an innocent question, posed by a simply curious friend, but an annoying question just the same. A question that shouldn't have to be answered, a preference that should have to be explained no more than she (a white woman) should have to explain why she dates only white men.

But I will explain.

I have been with this man for the past 3.5ish years. ------->

He is black. I like him. Those two things have very little to do with each other.








Before that I was with Baby Daddy. And before that, I was 16, so none of that really counts.

The truth of the matter is, when it comes to penises, I don't give a damn what color they are. I love them all.

White Penises


Black Penises


Spanish Penises

Chinese Penises

Indian Penises


Multiracial penises

Buddhist Penises

Permed Penises

Cranky Penises

Dorky Penises
Mature Penises


Immature Penises


Funny Penises


Musical Penises

Hungry Penises

Brave Penises

Sigh. Penises are great.

But right now, this:

is my penis. And it's my very favorite penis of all.

Son Of A Bitch

I was sitting in bed the other night making my niece a tutu and I saw a spider crawling up my blanket. It was a terrible, brown, creepy thing-looked like this--->

I couldn't get up because there was fabric and thread and flowers and scissors all over the place but I couldn't let it bite me because I'm ridiculously allergic to spider bites ... Oh the dilemma! My life is so interesting, don't you agree?

The solution? I took my scissors and cut the damn thing in half. I felt bad doing it but again, have you ever had a spider bite? They fucking hurt!!!!! So then, when the two halves stopped wriggling around, I took a scrap of fabric and used that to scoop it up and tossed it into the waste basket next to my bed.

End of story.

Until I woke up the next morning with nine spider bites all over my body.

Can spider ghosts bite?



(Also, I have fallen in LOVE this site. Check it out.)

Tears

I've always believed that for every tragedy there are a finite number of tears that must be cried before the pain can be resolved. Whether shared by a nation or burdening one person alone, whether shed all at once or spread over years, every last required tear must fall before the sadness that has made her bed in our souls is ready to leave.

Gorillabuns is a blog that I've always liked, one I checked in on every once in a while. Her writing is a raw, fresh, and funny take on parenting and so, when I clicked on her page the other day and found out that her little boy, Thalon had passed away, tears immediately started to fall from my own eyes.

I cried for the loss of a life that barely even started, for a woman who's just experienced a mother's worst nightmare, and for my own fears, the ones that make me want to keep my child at my hip at all times, the ones that threaten to send me over the edge of crazy every day. I cried for Thalon and hope, dear Shana, that the tears I and your other readers, friends, and family shed, equal a few less that you, yourself have to cry.

A Cell Phone? You're Seven!!!

After seeing the ginormous basket of sugar that the Easter bunny had left-


"Oh."

"What? What could possibly be wrong?"

"I didn't get what I really wanted."

"And what would that be?"

"A cell phone."

"Um, I think you're confusing Easter with Christmas. But if you don't want the candy, I'll eat it."

"No it's okay. I'll eat it."

And then he did.

April 4, 2009: Lesson Of The Day

Lesson Of The Day: The eleventh commandment states that "Christians are always right about religion and thou shalt not argue with them unless thou wants to spend all of eternity burning in hell".

Victoria's Chubby Cousin's Secret

Status update:
MISS AWESOME has decided that this summer she will look like this-------->

<----------- This could prove to be tough because currently she looks more like this,

and has estimated she needs to lose 1,809,346 lbs before she will walk out of the house in a bathing suit that doesn't look like this---------->















So, Miss Awesome has been working out. Every night, before bed she exercises with her son's WII. For three weeks she has listened to WII Fit tell her she is overweight (until finally she added four inches to her height and by default brought her BMI back to the normal bracket), has stood there while it gasps in shock every time she steps on the balance board, has allowed it to tell her that her WII Fit age is 79 going on DEAD, has nodded and hung her head down as WII Fit berated her for not exercising seven days a week. She has stepped her heart out, run in place for miles, and shadow boxed with very grumpy punching bags.

To boot, Miss Awesome has cut down on her bad eating habits. She's given up gummy bears for salads, replaced cookies and chips with grapefruits and water, and has vowed twenty-three times that today is the day she would give up diet Coke.

All of this work and she should have something to show, should she not?

So far, Miss Awesome has lost a grand total of 1 pound.

She estimates this rounds out to a weight loss of about .00000179564 e-02 lbs per day.

Exercise has also not managed to make her any tanner.

And so, though she has not given up on The Dream, Miss Awesome has decided to change her status update to say something much more appropriate and believable:

MISS AWESOME is eating a Big Mac. She is eating every last sesame seed and drop of secret sauce. She is now eating the carton. She is washing it down with a large chocolate shake and then plans on sitting as still as possible for the next ten hours so that the calories have the chance to truly absorb into her body. She has picked out a very nice sweat suit to wear to the pool this summer.

A Poem About Getting Old

Found a gray hair today.

Plucked it.

Cursed it out for being there.

Named it "Baby Daddy".



Threw gray hair in garbage today.

Tried to forget it was ever there.

Realized that much like real "Baby Daddy", it would just keep coming back.

Forever.




Found a gray hair today.

Cried a little.

For all the "Baby Daddies" gray hairs that will never go away.

Went and bought some hair dye.

Big Daddy Dead Legs I Promise To Mourn Your Passing

Someone once told me that daddy long legs are one of the most poisonous spiders except their weak fangs can't break through human skin so they're virtually harmless to us.

But I have thin skin and am very sensitive to insect bites.

So I killed the daddy long leg that was in my shower last night and tried really hard not to feel bad about it.

And then I read today that it's all a myth and daddy long legs have no venom or fangs and therefore cause us no harm, even if they do break skin.

I still don't feel that bad though.

Alcohol Gives Me Rhythm

Get it here.

I Am THE Shit.

1. I'm buying a house this year. The house doesn't know it but it's getting bought.

2. The only houses around here that I can afford are so broken that no one will give me a loan for them. For the life of me, I can't figure out why having a working toilet is so damn important to loan officers. I learned a long time ago how to pee in the bushes.

3. I have one son and I don't want any more children, ever, not even a little bit. Except for when I see a newborn. Or a toddler. Or a baby monkey.

4. Katt Williams is the first short, skinny man with a perm to turn me on. If I was in one of those relationships where you could have one famous person that you could have sex with, without consequence, Katt would be my person.

5. Last year my goal was to make out with a girl. It didn't happen so the goal has carried over into this year. Man-friend totally supports this goal, perhaps more than I feel comfortable with.

6. If I was married to a super rich man and could do anything I wanted for a job, I would do exactly what I do now.

7. My kid is seriously the most awesome person in the world. Don't even bother trying to argue with that. You'll lose.

8. Bad grammar pisses me off.

9. Lil' Wayne pisses me off.

10. My son's father pisses me off.

11.I don't think that anyone who is still so young that dEy RiytE LykE DIS On my$pa>e should be allowed to have children.

12. I look forward to being an old lady for many reasons, the main one being that I can't wait to be able to yell at bratty kids that I don't know.

13. I've given up Diet Coke at least 4 times in the past year. For the record, people at NA meetings do not appreciated you coming in and talking about your coke addiction unless it's the white and powdery variety.

14. There are so many things I want to do in my life that I'm terrified I'll never be able to do them all.

15. Fact: Cats smell better than dogs.

16. I don't believe in God. But I went to Catholic school so I can't manage to write God without capitalizing the g.

17. The kid that I mentor told me that the best thing that happened to him was getting a mentor. And that comment has totally carried me through the frigid month of January.

18. My favorite time of the day is from 7-8pm when my son and I cuddle up and read together. I look forward to it from the moment I wake up in the morning.

19. I recently got a "J" tattoo on my left boob. People wonder why I got my son's initial on my boob. Instead of telling them that "it's because it's over my heart, dumbass", I tell them that "it doesn't stand for Jacquai, it stands for Baby Jesus and I got his initial tattooed on my tit because he's my pimp".

20. My boyfriend is my best friend. My other best friend is Chele. Normally I don't believe in having more than one best friend as the word "best" tends to signify only one, but this works because they are almost the same person in many ways.

21. I don't add applications on Facebook. So if you pass me a drink, I won't pass it back.

22. I believe that crazy is highly underrated.

23. When I was little, I used to make fun off my mother because she had to pee all the time. Karma has turned out to be a real bitch.

24. I don't hate the town I grew up in. That being said, once the kid grows up, I have every intention of joining the Peace Corps and then spending the rest of my life somewhere tropical.

25. I am awesome. You are too.

Dream Job

If there was a job which required sleeping all the time, I'd apply for it. I'd apply for it and I'd get it because I'm the best damn sleeper that I've ever met. Even as a little girl I was extremely fond of sleeping. Not too many children ask to take naps but I did.

In fact, I can go to bed at 8:00 pm and not wake up again until 10 or 11 the next morning. And even then, I'm ready to go back to bed at a drop of a dime. A perfect day to me would involve laying in bed, eating, laying in bed some more, cuddling in bed with the kid, reading a book, eating, napping, eating, cuddling, having sex, and finally, going to sleep for the night.

You might call me lazy but I would like to point out that Nostradamus said that the world will be ending in just 3 short years from now and I think that we should all be doing what we enjoy in the meantime. Now to you, granola and a six mile hike may be enjoyable. Or maybe you like to fill your days working hard and accomplishing things. But the thought of all of that just makes me exhausted and cranky.

So, in this time of struggle, when our economy is going to shit and people are getting laid off left and right, I think it's time to propose a few new career options. Just remember, more jobs would be good for the economy.

1. Mattress Model- Employee will spend days asleep on the beds in our furniture store. Job includes convincing customers how comfortable our mattresses are. Must be able to sleep in busy, noisy environment. Applicant must be an "attractive sleeper". Snoring, drooling, fidgety sleepers need not apply.

2. Professional Dreamer- Must be able to remember dreams with precise accuracy. Employee will sleep for an average of 7 hours per day and the last hour will involve recording dreams, interpreting their meanings and calling local, state, and federal agencies to share prophecies about current and future events. They find this sort of information invaluable. Some television time on FOX and CNN may be required. Must have strong psychic abilities or a background in sales.

3. Rich Man's Wife- Sleeping is only part of this job! Other duties include supervising the hired help, complaining and occasionally giving birth.

4. Marijuana Tester- Main duties do not include sleeping but occasionally passing out on the couch is a necessary and expected part of the job.

So there you go, four jobs that call for Professional Sleepers. I'm sure I could think of some more but right now, I'm just too tired and my bed is softly whispering my name- "Yvonne, Yvonne, come lay with me," and I must heed the call.