Everything you wanted to know about Mutt and Shania in the bedroom but were afraid to ask

Well. Here I sit. It's just after 10:30, the sun has just nicely completely set here in the great northern plains of Canada, home of the free and the brave and Anne Murray, and my entire family is sleeping. I, of course, have nothing to do. I am tired but not ready for bed. I've read most of my blogs, I've changed the laundry over, I've started the dishwasher, and it looks like I have ample time to blog.
But I have nothing to say. Nothing. Nada. Zip. Zippo. Sweet bugger all. I suppose if I had some wine to drink, that would change things, but the cupboard has been dry for a few months since I've been dieting, and also, I suppose it wouldn't be wise to imbibe at all since we are anxiously awaiting the birth of babe #4 at any moment. Oh sure, I know, the official arrival isn't set to happen for another 19 days, according to the LMP date, but you never know. So, I must sit in a state of cat-like readiness, so that I can be the labor-coach extrordinaire that I am.
Ok, let's face it - I suck as a labor coach. I admit it. Really, I am there to grab some ice chips, help the Mrs. get into the bed, and carry the baby to get weighed. But in all fairness, her labors are always so quick, there is no time for me to do anything, and let's remember, it's not all about me (go figure). So anyway, I just have nothing to say right now. Let me think of random things to comment on... hmmm... hmmmm......

-- First off, it's finally spring here. Mid 20's, but wind to beat the fucking band. We really need rain. My backyard looks like complete shite - the winterkill of my lawn from the stupid dog piss is tragic. It looks like we should have some rusty, broken-down flatbed truck on blocks sitting on the lawn, while the kids take turns washing their hair from the hose. You know what I mean. It always revives itself and looks smashing by July, but motherfucker, who wants to wait until July to have their lawn filled in, especially when you live fucking Narnia in the days of the evil queen (you know, when it's always winter?)

-- Speaking of Narnia, I am quite excited to see they made a movie of Prince Caspian. I loved those darn Narnia books when I was a kid. I think I should reread them again. Chunks has been rereading the Harry Potter books and I am jealous because my dear internet friend sent me a copy of the first one years ago and went on and on about how this book was more lifechanging than the invention of the hand mixer, but I just couldn't read it. And so I am ignorant of all this Potter shit. It just looks like a pile of bullshit to me, to be honest. Wizards and whatnot and gay worlocks and kids with round glasses like cousin Oliver on the Brady Bunch.... No regrets Coyote, It's just not my thing. And I also miss out on all of those Lord of the Rings things. I tried my damndest to read those books as kids, and signed out the Hobbit for like every week for a year but still couldn't do it. The only reason I got into Narnia was because our teacher read The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe to us in grade 3, and then that was when I was all into my born again thing, and since the books were so overtly Christian, I ate them up. Anyway, I'm gonna reread them.

-- I just finished, finally, Girls Like Us, the book about Carly, Joni, and Carole King. Everyone must read it. You have to. The first 150 pages are slow going, but then boom, it's dishier than the Enquirer. Required reading. So go read the fucking thing, ok?

-- I am listening to Square Biz by Teena Marie right now. LOL, I used to think this was the coolest song. Well, ok, I admit, it's still makes me tap my foot. Ok, it still kicks ass. And "Lovergirl" still kicks ass.

-- Now I am listening to "let the River Run" by Carly Simon. Did I ever tell you about my childhood fantasies of being married to her? Remind me one day. Sometimes I wonder if I share too much....

-- So Angelina is knocked up with twins. Whatever.

-- Finally, Mutt and Shania finally broke up. Does this mean that she can stop singing those hokey songs? Because good ole Shania Eileen has good pipes, but then she does all these songs with such tacky, hokey lines, that I sort of cringe listening to them. Like "I'm Gonna Get Ya" has that sexy attitude with the "you're a fine piece of real estate and I'm gonna get me some land" and then boom, you are hit with the chorus of "don't try to run, love can be so much fun" and you are all wtf? And it's like that with all her songs - it's embarrassing, and it's all Mutt. Maybe she can sing something not hokey now. I always wondered about those two. Like, do you think when they would be getting it on, he'd be calling her Eileen instead of Shania, just to be dirty? Like "Oooh, Eileen, yeah baby, that's right... you dirty Timmons girls know what to do... you dirty little waitress!" Or do you picture her on top using the sex act to get over her poor upbringing in the bush? Like, she's riding him yelling "say my name!" and he's all "SHANIA" and she's yelling "SAY MY NAME!" some more and slapping him on the chest? And do you think he lets her see him? You know how reclusive he is - do you think he wears a bag on his head, with lip holes to kiss with? I wonder if that is what they were into? It makes you wonder, doesn't it? Anyway, i guess he can throw all his efforts into another shitty-ass Bryan Adams record now.

-- Well, I am pooped out, so I am going to head to bed. I'll try to think of more interesting things to write about.

Peace Out.

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