The Smiling Infidel's Dollar Store Extravapalooza

After reading about the plight of The Smiling Infidel and her itchy boob agony in the Houston humidity, the only option I had was to send her our very last bottle of Anti-Monkey Butt Powder. Babycakes had used his awesome powers of persuasion (the same ones he used to get me to marry him) to wheedle the precious powder out of the reps at the Vegas convention hall and smuggle it through the crack security team at McCarran Airport and back to Maryland to his chafing family. OK, really, the Anti-Monkey Butt people couldn't get rid of their product fast enough, because really, who wants to carry all the samples back home with them?

At about the same time - The Smiling Infidel revealed to me that she often thinks of me (me!) when strolling down the aisles of the local Dollar Store. *sniff* Smiling Infidel, you have a sweeter tongue (figuratively) than the guys I've dated. And she bought me presents!

On the day her package arrived, the kids and I tore the package apart like a 9-year-old trying to get to the wonky compass at the bottom of a box of Lucky Charms. We pulled out the Naked Nuts! The kids and I did go nuts, but not naked, although GirlChild is usually pretty close to that state.


The Smiling Infidel also appears to know I have a little problem with poker. And gambling in general. I love how she feeds into that. What I don't love is the oft repeated lecture on slots. I've said before that slot machines are my kryptonite and I really don't need you looking in my face and telling me that slots have the worst payout in a casino. For realz. I get it. And what I really get is a high when I hit a noisy bonus round and am surrounded by old Jersey ladies in track suits cheering me on and letting me rub their lucky Troll doll.

Sorry...got sidetracked. Back to poker. The SI, initiator of the Hot Sox Swap, sent me these bad boys "guaranteed to improve your game as you look at your fellow card players as live prey." And really, all you really want to do is 'look' at them as live prey and not 'eat' them as live prey because aside from about two regulars, I really don't want my tongue near any of them.

I'll reiterate the fact that I DO NOT HAVE CANKLES although it could appear otherwise in the photo below. There is just something ultra-illusion-esque about sock photos. And hell - y'all are lucky I even shaved recently for that photo.

SI - I think these sock totally rock! Little cards...little sharks...so clever... but my size 11 feet almost prohibited them from even sliding over my crusty flip-flop heels. I also think they supplied me with two different sized socks as the left sock reached a definite stopping point on my calf (not cankle). I will most likely not be able to look my fellow poker players in the eye or kick them in the shins while wearing these socks. *sad face*

Next in the bag-o-fun was a trio of Texas/Poker themed coozies. Don't my beers look well-groomed and ready to play?

I think I'll take these to the home game next weekend and see what the guys think. I'll take a poll to distract them as I scoop the pot. Maybe they won't realize that my two-pair does NOT in fact beat their three-of-a-kind. Maybe flashing some cleavage while I take the poll will help. Forget that. You can't do cleavage in a Hanes t-shirt without scissors.

GirlChild having fun in coozie couture:

To finish up the SI's gambling finds, she sent us this magnetized horse racing game which the kids play standing by the refrigerator. Yeah, it's as annoying as it sounds. MOVE! - I NEED ANOTHER BEER FOR MY TEXAS FLAG COOZIE.

You can never introduce your children to the world of Bugsy Siegel too early. I mean, I asked my Mom to sew four aces onto my jumpsuit in the 4th grade WHICH SHE ACTUALLY DID and now I have to pick up pamphlets in casinos with titles like "WHEN THE FUN STOPS" to make sure I don't have a problem.

SI's awesome card - it will be featured prominently in the next installment of V. Ice.

Thank you, my favorite Infidel! You rock!

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