It’s a bird! It’s a plane! No…no…wait…it’s toohotmamas?

They said we wouldn’t be back until this happened and lo and behold…

What? Pigs are flying?

Household hints, by Carolyn

It’s shocking!

I just learned the COOLEST hint today from the lady at Costco.  You know how, when you are in
the grocery store and you get shocked every time you touch the freezer case or anything metal?  You don’t?  Then you must not have shopped with my boys.  They love to scuff their feet along the aisle and zap each other.  And me.  And unsuspecting sisters.

 

Anyhow, if you look closely at the bottom of your grocery cart next time you are at the store, you might see this piece of wire hanging off the cart and dragging on the ground?  It’s the cart’s ground wire!  If it’s not touching the ground and you are zapping and snapping up a storm, just bend it down and let it drag.  Problem solved!

Oh!  And another totally helpful hint?  Don’t teach your teenaged daughter to drive.  I am just now learning that one.  More later, should I live so long.

 

Carolyn

Happy Anniversary, TooHotMamas!

Here's to another FABULOUS year of Hot Flashing!

  Wendy, I simply cannot believe  that we have been blogging for a solid year now!  And, what a year it’s been.  Wendy has sold three books and her husband has starred on LEVERAGE (on TNT). 

I managed to unclog a stubborn drain and my hubby cut off the tip of his finger.  What will the coming year bring?  I shudder to imagine.

At any rate, this explains Wendy’s rather sporadic contribution to the blog.  She’s working.  I, on the other hand, remain firmly attached to her coattails, dreaming of the day when I’m sitting in the front row at the Academy Awards, sobbing ala Chad Lowe, while she accepts the Oscar for best screenplay adaptation of a novel.  I only hope she remembers to thank me.  You know, for handling the blog while she works on a paying gig.

Since we are embarking on a new year here at TooHotMamas, I thought I’d like to try something I’m going to call: The Story Of Us.

Basically, it’s gonna be a soap-opera type serial blog.  Cliff-hangers, love, live, death, barf, marriage, menopause, kids, George Clooney, you know, stuff about our dysfunctional—and oddly identical—lives and how we met and forged a sisteresque friendship.  This is going to be really fun for me, as Wendy is too busy earning a real living to actually check in here, at TooHotMamas, and so, I’ll be able to really dish the dirt.

For example:  Wendy used to go to school with what musical super star??

I’ll have that juicy answer…on the next episode of THM’s!

Carolyn

More Bathroom Humor

  The other day I was just sitting there (telling you exactly where would be toomuchinfo) reading the can of Summer’s Eve Feminine Deodorant Spray. 

(Somebody tossed all the old Entertainment Weekly Magazines, so reading material was slim pickins). 

At home or on-the-go, feel fresh and clean every day. 

SAFE AND GENTLE.  Enjoy being a woman.

 Hmm.  Isn’t that nice?  Wait.  What’s this?  Cautions?

 WARNING:  FLAMMABLE.

 Okay, is it just me, or is that word not something you want in a product designed for your ‘nether regions’? 

 DO NOT USE PRODUCT NEAR FIRE, FLAME, OR SPARKS.

 Thank heavens I quit smoking.  ‘Crotch-rocket’ doesn’t just mean motorcycle anymore, eh Wendy?

 AVOID SPRAYING PRODUCT INTO EYES.

 Seriously?  There are people out there who spray this stuff into their face?  Now I’m doubly glad I quit smoking, you know, just in case I wanted my eyes to smell of ISLAND SPLASH instead of Maybelline while going blind.

 FOR EXTERNAL USE ONLY.

 Good thing I also quit that fire-eating act.

 DISCONTINUE USE IMMEDIATELY IF RASH, IRRITATION OR DISCOMFORT DEVELOPS.

 Are they talking about the sparks that shoot from your panties upon ignition?  No more sitting on the stove for me.

Kinda takes the enjoyment out of being a woman.

 Carolyn

Another Get Rich Quick Scheme Down the Toilet

Heeeeeellllppp meeeeee!

Ohmigosh, Wendy!  Last night I had a dream that J. Lilly, President of Pillsbury wrote us a letter.  It was so terrifying!  So real!  I woke up in a sweat (could have been a hot flash) and scribbled down what I remembered on a candy wrapper I found lying near my bed: 

To TooHotMamas:

(Whoever you are and whatever your racket is)  

 Stop harassing me about winning my contest, or I’ll be forced to take out a restraining order against you both.  The only reason I haven’t contacted the authorities yet, is because my sister is menopausal and tells me you are both out of your minds. 

In answer to a few of your many and varied accusations:  No, the contest was not rigged, nor am I related to the winners and yes I eat Pillsbury products in my home and have no signs of these ‘pathogens’ you allude to.  

Also, since Jack Bauer is a FICTIONAL television character (24), I cannot take the threat that you would report my contest to the Counter Terrorist Unit seriously.  I can’t believe Jack Bauer would take it seriously.  In a shoot out, everyone knows the doughboy has no vital organs and can withstand intense heat.  Jack Bauer, though impressive, would never survive a pre-heated 350 oven for more than 30 minutes. 

TooHotMamas, I will not be bullied into, and I’m quoting here, “Taking you to the stars with your two-ingredient Pancake Sauce”, and must reiterate: Winning my contest will not solve your myriad problems.  In fact you both may wish to consider counseling.  I’ve heard this stage of life is hard on many women and can lead to delusional behavior.  

Thank you for including the pictures of your children in your missive of terror and yes, aside from needing braces, they are all exceedingly attractive. 

You will be contacted from my lawyers for your issues with our contest protocol, and must sign sworn statements to hold Pillsbury harmless, if you wish to participate in the future. 

Sincerely, 

John Lilly, CEO Pillsbury Corporation

I want my…I want my…I want my PMS…

Never thought I’d say that.

Menopause been belly, belly bad to me.  In less than a year my legs have morphed into my mother-in-laws legs.  I vowed I would never let that happen. 

And the appetite?  Horrific.  We used to have a loveseat in the family room.  Gone.  It was delicious.

The other day, I was attempting to describe the joy of hot-flashes to my husband (after I’d slapped his loving hands away as he was trying to comfort my distress).  “Honey, it’s like that feeling you get when you are in the sauna about ten minutes past the moment you know you should have left, to avoid heat stroke?”  “Ooo,” hubby tsks in sympathy.  “I swear, this morning, I was holding an iron skillet during a hot flash and… it bent.”

How unfair that this burst of heat does not melt unwanted pounds away.  What good is a personal summer, if you can’t get a good tan out of the deal?

On the up side, should we have a power outage this winter, the family will all be able to gather round me, for warmth. 

Carolyn