The first miracle

 Today is  the day Jesus scared the shit out of a bunch of  officials (who murdered him) by coming back from the dead.

BOSS of all Miracles!!!!

So we decided to celebrate this by reenacting his first miracle.  Jesus’ came out of the magical closet by turning water into wine at a wedding!  OPA!!!  That’s what I call a Savior!

So we decided to turn water (malt extract and hops) into beer. Our Miracle took a little longer than his…..in fact it is currently fermenting.

1.) we warmed malt extract and boiled water.  Then we removed the water from heat and slowly poured in one can of malt extract while stirring slowly.  Then we poured in one ounce of hops into the totally dissolved.  Then put your “beer tea” back on the the fire.

2.) our beer tea is gonna get all foamy when you put it back on the fire so we just removde it from heat and let it settle and then put it back on until it boils ( and gets foamy again).  and then repeated this process until it stoped foaming and then let it boil for 30 minutes.

3.) after the 30 minutes passed we poured in the other can of malt extract and ounce of hops.  Then when it  dissolved the  brew tea went into the fermenting bucket.

4.)  we had to wait until the beer tea cooled to 90 degrees.  Then we put in the yeast and waited 10 minutes.  Then I got to stir it 2 times and put the top on with the airlock already in place.  we filled the airlock halfway with water.  And now we wait ….. in a week or so we will start the bottling process.  Miracles can take a while.

Happy easter :)

 

yours always and forever,

The Chubby Mermaid

p.s.—–oooooooooooooo pretty

Soliciting puppies

sorry I have not written much…..it is hard to stop a mermaid from singing ridiculous songs…..you understand.  This can’t go on much longer.  This one is about soliciting puppies to run away with me.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=AF2tGPnfcgQ

I think we got like 20 ish hits on our last youtube song which is alot….so i decided to google House Of The Giant Kitty in order to read up on all our hype…..seems lots of people have been so inspired by us that they want giant kitties.

google translate says that the lasst picture reads:

a mild winter, sparkling and Mimosin

how mysterious.

yoursalways and forever,

The chubby mermaid

Things my mother told me that I still don’t understand.

I’ve spoken of my mother a couple times. She has a very unique spirit. Through my life she has given me many pearls of wisom …..that i still haven’t quite figured out.  These 3 are the most perplexing….Please help.

3.) Well, you’re not the brightest fork in the tool shed, are you?

2.) Hey chubby, I don’t ever want to see you leave this house with a sweater on again. No one’s gonna buy a steak from a nun.  you can’t get the whole  milk for  half price around here..

1.) Hey- don’t cry. Anyone can stand upside down in a bucket of shit, while playing the kazoo, for a year.
( I’ve never known anyone that can actually do this. The kazoo can be a very tedious instrument  and……….I can’t even stand. :(  ).

I want to impress my mother by finally understanding these clandestine mysteries. Is it some sort of magical mermaid riddle? I feel like I have the map to the meaning of life but I can’t read. I guess thats why I am “about as useful as tits on a nun- covered in molasses going uphill in a snowstorm.”

Oh mom—- <3

yours always and forever,

The Chubby Mermaid

The Banshee…or should I say “whaaaaa whaaaa whaaa”nshee

File:The Banshee.jpg

The Banshee is a somewhat magical  ( she’s not all that and a bag of chips) Irish woman who is actually quite beautiful.  Some people have said that she was a ghoul…..but those people were obviously lying.  She has a notable past of sounding the somber alarm of misfortune.  Mostly she would warn prominent Irish families when a loved one was about to die violently by assasination or in battle.

Unfortunately, prominent Irish familes don’t usually die violently these days. So the Banshee, like many people, really found herself without a job in a world that didn’t really acknowledge her morbid resume as a list hirable/desirable traits.  Yet, like most attractive women that used to be someone, she had no trouble marrying well and now spends much of her time practicing the art of hearth and home.

Whats the point?  The point is that she is an absolutely impossible creature who is every bit as lothesome, depressing, and annoying as she was 500 years ago.  Just because she’s wealthy , was once revered,   she believes that she has some sort of moral compass with which she must guide the world.  She constantly uses that tired singsong ( if not shreiking) voice to find fault and harm in the most meaningless of actions.

You can’t even go out to eat with your spouse without offending her in some way.  I mean didn’t we realize that she too was hungry?  How could we be so insensitive to post a picture of our dessert on facebook knowing fully that she was on a diet?  Also, on the topic of how terrible I am, it should be noted that my indulgences and poor sense of humor might be getting the best of me.

Her self rightousness, uncompromising/twisted sense of goodness, and guilt weilding social strategies make her appear less condolling,sympathetic, and wise and more like one of the painfully depressing trainwrecks that comprise the Real Housewives. 

Whenever I even begin to think that other people’s actions might be in some way directed at me….I reconsider by taking  note of the sadly derranged Banshee.  Bitches do indeed be crazy.

yours always and forever,

The Chubby Mermaid

When the husband is away the mermaid will…..

Mr. Monster went out of town.  He’s gonna be gone for a few days….he says it is all business…but he packed his guitar :(.  Just to be safe I told him that I hired one of those sexy undercover private detectives that purposely try to persuade men to make bad decisions…..

my exact words were:

“If you meet a smart and beautiful woman who plays the drums and laughs at your fart jokes and loves bad religion, the ramones, the descendents, B horror movies, and thinks scary tattooed monsters are sexy—-don’t be dumb.  I hired her.”

no—no she doesn’t.  Whatever that is she thinks its lame.

P.S. mr. monster- I’m the only person in the whole world that thinks farts are funny.

I also continued to tell him how much I’m not gonna miss him.  And how he better hurry up and go….and how I’m gonna drink lots of wine and hang out with all my very handsome successful yet questionably platonic male friends…..

but I don’t have any of those….

So now i just have to drink wine…and constantly remind him via text that:

“There are plenty of fish in the sea….but only one mermaid.”

 

yours always and forever,

The Chubby Mermaid

 

 

UH OH! ZOMBIES!!!

Like most americans I totally disregard what is actually being said during any news broadcast and try to just  watch the screen.  I try only to look at the pictures to ensure that I do not become another victim to the liberal media’s propoganda and bias.

with that being said:

Apparently Zombies are attacking our tiny city by the sea.

This is the honest truth….. you can read about it here:

http://www.kiiitv.com/story/20547797/zombie-warning-on-rodd-field-road-traffic-sign

I bet all those doomsday enthusiasts are so freaking psyched right now.

 

yours always and forever,

The Chubby Mermaid

Things I’ve learned from RuPaul

Being The Chubby Mermaid has always meant that I was a little bit of an outcast.  First off- society has its own reservations about magical creatures. People may spend millions of dollars to see wizards playing quidditch or to snoop on vampires doing it, but they usually have no interest in being friends with a mermaid.  Most people even refuse to acknowledge my existence.  As for other mermaids—-well obviously– I’m the chubby one  :(.

Great book.

When I first read this book. I was just so enchanted by  RuPaul’s stead fast and loving relationship with himself.  His tone is smart and snarky wrapped up in a box of experience with a fierce  bow.  It is the only book I’ve ever read that gives sound legal advice,  teaches you how to begin to love yourself,  and how to put on fake eyelashes. He really helped a lonely/ chubby mermaid out.

Things I’ve learned from RuPaul:

1.) When the going gets tough- the tough re-invent.

2.) If you can’t love yourself- how in the hell are you gonna love somebody else?

3.) Take risks.

4.) Get rid of toxic and insecure people in your life.

5.) Be honest with yourself/ “You better work.”

6.)  Never lend money-  you can give it as a gift but don’t ever lend it and expect to get it back.

7,) Always write a contract.

8.) People usually wear more blush than they need.

9.)  Don’t let people walk all over you-  “Sometimes you just have to break it down for a motherfucker.”

10.) Don’t Fuck it up.

All in all-  RuPaul has pushed alot of boundaries and courageously loved himself the entire time no matter how society has responded. By doing so, he’s helped queers, outcasts ,geeks,  and chubby mermaids accept and love themselves.  He’s an artist, entertainer, and entrepreneur with a great sense of humor.  Being more like RuPaul may seem like a silly thing to be— But, I think, aspiring to be a little more self loving, confident, beautiful, and courageous are some of the most admirable New Year’s resolutions there are.

Yours always and forever,

The Chubby Mermaid

p.s.- the Rubamas

Rx for the end of the world :)

of course this is all a bunch of nonsense-  but just in case—

The Chubby Mermaid’s magical end of the world Rx:

Grab your favorite monster and tell him how happy he’s made you.  Tell him how much you look up to and admire him.  Wrap your arms around him and give him a great big kiss.

Let him know, that loving him is your greatest accomplishment and that all the terrible things you’ve ever been through you would go through over and over again as long as you spent your last moments  next to him :).

awwww now the end of the world seems kinda sweet and magical doesn’t it?

You’re welcome.

Yours always and forever,

The Chubby Mermaid

p.s.- then “cuddle”–hard—–like there’s no tommorow. ::::winky face::::::

What does an athiest say in bed?

A:  Oh Chance!!! Oh Random!

ha ha ha ha ha ha

Q: What did the Buddhist monk say to the hot dog vendor?

A: Make me one with everything.

That’s right new friends- chubby mermaid is doing the unthinkably obnoxious.  I am using this sacred time of year to be opinionated about religion.  (and I’m not even halfway done with this glass of wine ….watch out.)

Before I got married and became a full time husband pleaser/ magicalness giver unto the world.  I worked where most college girls work- in the mall.  I  was always pleasant  and tried very hard to be helpful and give people a happy shopping experience.  One time- I very politely told a couple “Happy Holidays”  and they went off on me in every which direction.  They told me I was attacking Christmas and persecuting Christians by ignoring their faith and not saying “Merry Christmas.”  I was very sad and confused because they both had seemed so ill tempered and  with such horrendous noses that I was almost for certain they were Jewish which is why I said “Happy Holidays” to begin with.  I guess you can never win.

But, the whole thing got me to thinking-  what do I really believe in, anyway?

I’m not one of those people who feels like I have to keep existing forever.  I am  okay with dying.  In fact,  something about the idea of  not existing has always made me treat people a little nicer and be more honest with myself.  I want to live authentically.  I want to enjoy each one of these moments.

Most all of my family is Christian/Catholic and there are many teachings of Jesus that i really admire and feel connected to.  But-  I just don’t believe in an afterlife.  I’ve tried so many times to listen to others and their experiences.  I read that little boy’s book about visiting heaven.  I’ve heard the evangelicals tell me about the fiery pits of hell.  I’ve even  educated myself up on purgatory and read Dante’s Inferno.   I just don’t believe in an afterlife.

The first time I lost someone precious to me,  I was certain I was going to change. I was so devastated and crushed that deep down I really felt that maybe I would wake up the next day and my heart would have seen the light.  Some sort of sign would lend itself to me and I would know for certain that such a beautiful person would keep existing forever and ever.

Maybe if I was good all the rest of my days I might earn one more bear hug and slap on the tush.  He might even tell me one more terrible dirty joke.  Maybe if I was really really good for the rest of my life-  I might get to tell him thank you, I love you, or goodbye.

I still  want to believe that these things are possible.

But-  I don’t.

I was really upset for a long time.  Why can’t I just believe like most of my friends and family?  Why can’t i just have a set religion that I can trust, that makes me feel safe, and brings me comfort when I am in so much pain?

I guess everyone has their own struggles……even magical mercreatures.

When I think back on my loved one-  I am so amazed by what little amount of time he really spent on this Earth.  He didn’t give a whole lot of bear hugs or tell a whole of dirty jokes-  but he gave the best ones to me….he told the best ones to me. That means so much to me.

He makes me feel warm during the holidays.

I love him.

and as my Dad would have said:

“Thank you God for one more year with my friends and family—-and go Bears.”

amen.

yours always and forever,

The Chubby Mermaid

Ruga-Who? (aka: Mermaids, monsters, and white trash swamp things from the Bayou.)

(Author’s note:   In case you’re new here- I’m a magical mermaid, married to a manly monster, and most of are friends are creatures you might have heard about but never met.)

The Rougarou is a werewolf that haunts and hunts in cajun villages right here is North America. His features and hunting style vary widely depending on the story teller and he  is still seen, to this day, in areas surrounding New Orleans. He is a pretty big deal and you can learn more about him by going here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rougarou  ( Oh Wikipedia- you modern day Oracle you!!)

Unfortunately,  thanks to all those stupid movies and books that came out -  whenever cajuns see the “magestic” rougarou, they describe him as looking something like this:

But- please trust me when I say that he actually looks something like this:

  You can take the rougarou out of out of the trailer but you can’t take the trailer out of the rougarou.

The rougarou is a friend of a friend who offered us a free place to stay when he found out we were planning to go to New Orleans to escape Christmas (ba-humbug).  Yeah- we don’t want to be rude and refuse his hospitality but this guy is beyond white trash.  He isnt like “I like to drink my cabarnet cold” white trash—he is straight up ” I eat frito pie 3x a week and  I stole my pappy’s handicap sticker when he passed away” white trash.

I really really enjoy him in small doses.  I thinks it is great to have him around when we are in a big group drinking and cutting up. I can laugh at his crazy philosophies ( most of which are obtained from “validated news resources” as he calls them- which really means drunk guy with all his teeth that he met at the mall).I even laugh when he convinces the neghbor boys to do atomic situps (http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=atomic%20situp ).  However,  I think i would rather wait 25 hours in line for a Christmas tree than spend the night at his “home.”

I’m sure we all have a wwf loving, settlement check receiving ( falling down at walmart happens alot on the bayou), rent to own expert friend with dreams of becoming a Nascaar driver.  But how do you tell your white trash werewolf buddy that you’s rather stay at the Motel 6.

Thoughts?

Yours Always and Forever,

The Chubby Mermaid