Friday, May 27, 2011

And I Believe in Him



We're not a religious family. That's probably a bit of an understatement actually. When I first met B.Rube he often referred to me as "the anti-christ" due to my clear and decided opinion against Christianity. I am an atheist.

My girls are almost 7 and 5, and the discussion of God, church, religion or Jesus has not really come up yet. We talk a lot about our values of kindness, respect, understanding, love, patience, tolerance and acceptance, and have had to address the complicated issue of death. We've discussed things like 'doing unto others' and a belief in karma and fate.
Today on the way home from school, S.Rube read a church sign that we drove by, and asked what "Sunday School" was. Which led to a discussion about Christianity.

I gave them my brief, unbiased, and somewhat ignorant explanation of what Christianity was. (I'm certain that some of my good Christian friends are cringing at the thought of this.) I said that Christians believe that a few thousand years ago there was a man named Jesus who was a leader and who helped people. And Jesus died. And then he came back to Earth. And people believed in him and he believed in the people. And then he left again with a promise that he'd be back. And so today Christians believe that he'll come back at some point (not last Saturday!), and those that believe will get to go with him to Heaven and those who don't believe won't get to go. These people go to churches to pray together and they try to live by following Jesus' rules. Sunday School is where the kids go on Sunday mornings to learn more about Jesus and his beliefs. (Now, that wasn't too bad, was it??)

S.Rube then asked if I believed in Jesus and I told her: No, that I didn't believe in the whole story of Jesus, but that I didn't want to taint their beliefs with my own, and that when they were old enough to explore and understand it, they were always welcome to do so. I told her lots of people believe.

Little T.Rube jumped into the conversation then, pointedly deciding, "I definitely believe."
"Yup!", she says, "I believe in Jesus." And then she looked at S.Rube who was wearing her favourite pants and said, "But I don't believe in capris. Nope. I don't believe in capris one little bit because capris are not real. Jesus is real though. He is."


(Seriously. She may have a point about the capris.)

I sputtered a bit, trying not to laugh outright. Jesus and capris.

A couple of hours later, I overheard T.Rube explaining her new belief system to her dad.
"So, yeah, there was this man who lives on the moon. And he came to Earth and then he died. And he went back to the moon. And if you believe in him, you'll get to go to the moon too. But if you don't believe in him, you don't get to go."
"And I believe in him."
"But I don't believe in capris."

Wednesday, May 25, 2011

The Placenta Monologues

So, that's Daisy giving birth on the right sidebar there. She's our Boer goat that had a set of twins at the end of April - a boy and a girl named Portland and Eugenia. I know seeing the video right there every time you visit makes a few of you gag. I am hoping to shock and educate all the young hockey fans who land at my site looking for the hot pierced boobs pressed up against the penalty box.
( you can see the boobs here.... http://aruralrube.blogspot.com/2011/05/canuck-fan-flashes-her-boobs-to-eager.html )

And, if you remember, a local college instructor had asked for the placenta for a nursing class on labour and delivery. That placenta was rinsed, bagged, and then frozen at the college for last week's class. You all didn't think that I'd forgotten about it did you? teeheeheee

How about running your fingers through some of this?  (that's my good-sport friend, Yoli! Everyone say Hi to Yoli!!!)

Now, as if this isn't gross enough... I'm going to ask you to consider for a moment the act of eating the placenta. Most mammals in the animal kingdom do this. It has a name (which isn't cannibalism..) - placentophagy. Most humans do not practise this act, although there a number of midwives and doctors who proport that eating one's own placenta after birth can aid in issues of hemorrhaging and post-partum depression. The placenta is full of nutritional value, as well as large amounts of progesterone and smaller amounts of oxytocin; chock full of B vitamins and iron!
So, there is a trend out there to cook up and eat your placenta. It is not recommended to eat someone else's placenta due to potential blood illnesses. (Did you hear that?? You can not eat someone else's placenta! Just in case you were planning on it. Not a good idea. Even if you're good friends with the person. No sharing the placenta! Okay? You hear me! You just never know what's in that placenta....).


So, seriously though, if you're wanting to eat your own placenta...
Remember to remove the membranes and umbilical cord first. And then go ahead and cook it like you would any meat dish. You can cube it, bbq it, ground it up for patties, tenderize it, or even dehydrate it to make a placenta jerky.  Yummmm

Probably of the most benefit (because nothing beats the nutritional value of eating raw foods), but something that even I can't tolerate the thought of.... a placenta smoothie. No amount of bananas could mask the taste or smell of that one.


And....if eating or drinking your own placenta doesn't excite you much, why not consider buying the teddy bear kit and making this incredible personalized sustainable toy?
( I only wish that I was making this shit up... )

The Sharks are dead on the dock


I had this amazing dream last night that we were headed to the Stanley Cup!
And, after my first sip of coffee, I remembered it was real.

Holy shit, I'm sooooo friggin' excited.

Monday, May 23, 2011

Keepin' Portland Weird (and Nasty!!)

Out of fairness to Portland, which I believe to be an awesome hip city, Brenda and I rolled in late in the day on a Sunday and were only staying one night. Clearly Sunday in Portland is the time to come down from your crazy weekend and not be looking to crank it back up! It was pretty damn quiet. This was unfortunate for Brenda and I, as we had just finished our half marathon in Eugene, had been refraining from alcohol for a while, and were looking forward to letting go a bit that night. I think to give the city's night life proper justice, a Friday and Saturday night would be key. Unless you're a beer lover, in which case the numerous micro-breweries on every other block would be right up your alley!

Just south of the city, right off the highway, we couldn't resist a stop at this class-A restaurant... Wanker's Corner ....all I could think of was the chef and his special sauce ingredient. Wanker's Corner? I don't want to know what happens in the wanker's corner.  So, we drove on, despite our grumbling tummies.


We arrived in the downtown core a short time later and checked in to our very nice little boutique-style hotel in the Pearl District, also known as the Brewery District, which is very similar to Vancouver's Yaletown, we decided. The hotel is The Mark Spencer and has a few notable bonuses that include: a smokin' deal found through Living Social, a daily FREE WINE happy hour in the little atrium lobby, free Wi-Fi, is pet-friendly, and its full suites are furnished to make you comfortably feel as though you've stepped into your grandma's (or great-grandma's) little apartment.

So, after getting flushed and giggly on local wine (which took no time for our dehydrated bodies to absorb!), we set out to explore the little downtown area. It was a rare sunny warm evening and we walked to the water, which reminded us a lot of our hometown Vancouver. You could definitely feel the city's "cool factor"...it reeks of cool, even on a quiet Sunday night. One of the things that I LOVED and so wish that Vancouver would consider doing are the food carts! There are blocks of food carts all over the city. You can check out their website for the types of carts available and a map to their locations.




Portland prides itself on being weird and I totally dig that.

And then, added to the weird factor, things started to get nasty, as the sun started to set....
Hung Far Low chinese? What's hung far low? How low? Why am I getting visuals of my donkey's schlong dragging in the dirt?
Dirty Pie pizza? Why does it have to be dirty? What's wrong with Spicy Pie or Cheeky Pie. The only thing worse than Dirty might be Cheesy. Don't eat Cheesy Pie. ick.
 Saucebox? Maybe they can hook up with Wanker's Corner and create the ultimate dip.

And then we finally found Oregon's pride and joy... Voodoo Doughnuts, where the magic is in the hole!!



Weird and nasty marketing campaign! ( you know I love it!!)
but slightly confusing....
I'm not sure that, especially coming from a pink box, VD is a good thing.
Not so completely appetizing.

But, hmmmmm and mmmmmm, look at their yummy strange doughnuts!
This is the famous maple bacon one.
And you can be sure to find a doughnut with your favourite cereal topping it off...here's a Froot Loop and a Cocoa Puffs, and I see a Skittles one back there. I would go for a Capt'n Crunch Berries one myself. (even though I know it's gonna cut the roof of my mouth to shit!)

So, being as we were in the city known for 1)being weird, 2)good coffee (what Pacific Northwest city doesn't pride themselves on their coffee?) and 3)microbreweries, we settled on a brewery to end our night.
Despite both being non-beer drinkers, we went to Deschutes Brewery for a bite to eat and to sample some beer.
We chose a Sampler, wrote down our choices, and opened our minds and tastebuds to the experience.
Brenda's face speaks for both of us.


Needless to say, we left our glasses almost full and decided that a tequila brewery is way more our style.
Tijuana, here we come!!!!
(there's gotta be a marathon there we can run, right??)

Saturday, May 21, 2011

Damn

So they're all still here???

Canuck Boob Girl has a Face...and a rough week

Talk about consequences....

Our Canuck boob girl has a face.
(and a bit more of a belly than I expected, I must admit....She clearly has had children with abs like that. I wonder what her kids think of mom's cheeky demonstration.)


Without a doubt, her life has changed drastically in the past 3 days. I wonder if regret has inhabited her and whether the infamy will move her to new heights in the months to come making Wednesday night's decision worthwhile.  Somehow I doubt it, but I suspect that she likely had a "I'll never drink again" moment on Thursday morning when she woke up in a jail cell, wiping that sweet smirky smile off her face.

Rumours are flying throughout Vancouver (and much of the continent!) about who this girl is and what has happened to her since being ejected from Rogers Arena on Wednesday night. Although unable to confirm any of this, I have been told that she was thrown into a jail cell on Wednesday night following the incident and is facing charges of up to $15000 for public indecent exposure and being drunk and disorderly. CBC may also be considering charges against her, as well as the Canuck organization banning her for life.  She has deleted her Twitter and Facebook accounts in an attempt to avoid unwanted attention, and someone told me last night that she was actually fired from her job!

Whew! If that ain't a bad episode of Hangover, I don't know what is.

With charges like that stacked up against her, I bet it's only a matter of time before a fundraising Facebook group begins in an attempt to 'help finance the twins'!

You can watch the uncensored video right here.... http://aruralrube.blogspot.com/2011/05/canuck-fan-flashes-her-boobs-to-eager.html

(edited to add: This girl did lose her job the day following the incident. She worked as an insurance agent in North Vancouver (at Allwest Insurance) and was sitting in company seats when the flashing happened. It would appear that the company didn't take too kindly to her indiscriminate use of their corporate seating! Sucks to be you!)

Thursday, May 19, 2011

The Day of Rapture OR The Man from Mars is Eating Cars

You know we have less than 2 days left until Judgment Day, right? So what the fuck are you doing surfing the internet????


I wonder what time of day it will happen. Or what time zone it starts in. What country? or is it an instant global thing? I wonder if we'll know what has hit us when JC arrives? I wonder if all of the crazy people will just disappear from the Earth instantaneously? Natural combustion? or just POOF, into thin air? I can tell you that I'd have no problem with their vanishing act! The world would be a better place....

According to a large number of devout Christians, May 21st, 2011 has been declared Judgment Day, with the end of the world happening later in the year on October 11th, 2011.
Keep in mind, though, that this same group had declared March 21st, 2011 the original Judgment Day and after it came and went without mishap or the arrival of their saviour, they came up with the new date.

There's a house with a trailer out front that's all painted up on the road I travel to get to Bellingham in Washington State. For many months now, the trailer's message warns me that the Rapture is coming this week. Now the only Rapture I can remember hearing about (and it is a faint memory) was one that Blondie sang about 30 years ago. Although I do recall that the man from Mars was eating everything from bars to cars and they were warned to not move too slow cuz he was gonna eat them all. An analogy? Perhaps.
I checked out the website to learn more and educate myself further before simply pissing all over the idea, (google Family Radio if you're interested. I don't want to offer a direct link to their crazy thoughts...) which further confirmed for me that these believers are completely whacked out. So, piss away.


I keep having a flashback to 1993 with visions of a freaky cultish mass suicide pact a la Waco, Texas and the Branch Davidians. Or, maybe instead of killing themselves as the day arrives unceremoniously and without a peep from their Maker, they can just change the date again.

So, what the hell have you been doing with your time in order to prepare? Me? I've carried on with life as usual because I don't believe that crap. And if I'm wrong, I'll eat my sweaty running shorts. That is, if I haven't been shot straight to hell in a burning cannon.

I had to chuckle a couple of days ago as I passed by the home with the Raptured trailer out front. As I was approaching the house, I wondered what these people would be doing on these final days. Their website is advising them to pray. A lot.  Instead, oddly enough, I saw the man out cutting his lawn despite the rainy weather. I guess even Jesus expects proper maintenance.

And then there are those of us who, even in our dying days, still just want to see boobs.

Wednesday, May 18, 2011

Canuck fan flashes her boobs to Eager in the Penalty Box - the video!

video

It would appear that this fine Vancouver specimen took it upon herself to act in the role of the Green Guys in their absence at tonight's blow-out game.
No wonder Eager was so enthusiastic about getting his penalty minutes.

My friend at the game was wondering why the girl had got kicked out. Now you know.
The twins sure looked good up against the glass tonight, though, didn't they? ;o)

Friday, May 13, 2011

The Less Popular Parent

I have long suspected that I was the less popular parent in this house. There were little signs before, like the girls' enthusiasm when B.Rube comes home, or them insisting that he tuck them in or read their bedtime story instead of me.  I enjoyed seeing it, appreciated the bit of free time it sometimes gave me, and had never reflected it back upon myself....until this past week....when S. Rube actually made me cry.

I snuck off to the laundry room and fought back tears amidst the pile of whites, and tried not to inhale the stinky litter box fumes beside me. Damn it.

It went something like this:

J - So, Daddy and I are both going to your soccer games tonight and they're at the same time, so we'll each watch 1/2 of each of your games. I'll watch 1/2 of yours and then Daddy and I will switch, and I'll watch 1/2 of T.Rube's...

(before I could finish my sentence, S.Rube bursts energetically out with:)
S - I WANT DADDY TO WATCH MINE FIRST.

J - okay, well, I'll start with T and Dad can start with you.

S - No, I want Daddy to watch ALLLLLL of my game!

J - No, he can't. It's only fair if we split it up. And I really want to see you play too. And I'm sure that T wants Daddy to see her play.

(her now with an exaggerated pouty face that has never worked on me but still she tries:)
S - ohhhhhhh, but I want Daddy to watch the whole thing.

(now me with one eyebrow slightly raised and a bit of a snarky tone to my voice:)
J - Why??  Why don't you want me to watch you? Do you love him more than me or what??

(her without ANY hesitation or even a breath whatsoever:)
S - YESSSSSS!!!

(me with eyes wide and mouth agape:)
J - What??? Are you serious?? Did you really just say that?

(her with horror in her eyes as realization of what she said sinks in:)
S - well....well....well....

(her wheels are spinning as she tries quickly and desperately to undo what she has just said, thereby saving herself and me:)
S - .... well... just a little bit.

Oh my God, her honesty kills me.

All I can answer back with is a less-than-enthusiastic "wow" as I am already getting up to retreat to the laundry room and fighting back the blurriness that is quickly forming in my vision.

It's the truth, you know. In her limited understanding of love at this point in her game, it is the truth. Yeah, she loves me. Yeah, she misses me when I'm away. Of course she does. Because I'm the one she's always with, so it must just seem odd when I'm not here.  But, she loves her time with her Dad more than she can appreciate her time with me.
And, for her, that equates love.

The longer I stood on the mound of dirty clothes, the more resentful I got. (and, yes, I'm quite certain that hormones were playing a bit of a role in this).  The job I do here, the hours I put in, the stress of feeling like I'm planning, organizing, implementing and otherwise holding it all together for everyone, is TOTALLY taken for granted. I am just the nag, the cook, the laundress, the cleaner, the slave, the driver, the slavedriver... shit that mothers have long since known and complained about. The irony that I was standing in the laundry room did not escape me at this moment....

And then....wooohoooooooo....Dad comes in! DADDYYYYY!!!!! It's time for wrestling, movies, card games, tickles, and snuggles. FUN FUN FUN!!! Of course they 'love' him more. He's like the circus arriving to the boring small town on that hot July weekend every year. More fun than a whole fucking Mini stuffed with clowns. He might as well be bringing home cotton candy every time he walks in the door.
Blahhhhhhh

So, I reflected, felt a bit sorry for myself, reflected still, threw a load of laundry in and reflected some more. Then came up with a few goals.
1) That I spend more time away, and really make 'em miss me!
2) That I let B.Rube step up to do the dirty work waaaaaay more often than I expect him to now.
3) And, most importantly, that I nag less and play more, all whilst maintaining my fine balancing act with a smile on my face.

Wednesday, May 11, 2011

Go the Fuck to Sleep

I've had a couple of friends share this book with me over the past weeks and I can't resist sharing it with you. You totally know that this is the kind of children's book I would write. In fact, I'm rather envious that it wasn't me who did.
Gives me a few ideas though.....

The book isn't even out for release until mid-June but you can pre-order a bunch of copies (or just one) through Amazon for just over $8.00 a book. What an amazing price for the best baby shower gift ever!!! Order yours by clicking right from here now.


Be prepared for a good fucking belly laugh!
(Click on each picture to open larger for viewing.)



















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