I Don't Get It

I have started to become painfully aware that I have transformed into one of the old people that used to bug the hell out of me when I was younger.  These "old" people were basically anyone my parent's age or older that didn't seem to understand anything important.  Like how to use computers, or how to send an email, or how to use a CD player.  You know...  technology.  Now I'm 44 and the only social media I use is Snapchat and occasionally Marco Polo.  Hannah tried to explain "hashtags" to me a while ago and I just could not get my head around it.  I walked around for a few days saying "poundsign BFFs?"  I don't get it.  Hannah would roll her eyes and tell me it wasn't a pound sign that it was a hashtag.  I believe I argued for a while that it most certainly WAS a poundsign but I eventually gave up because she thought I was an old idiot, and I just kept making a fool out of myself over this new fangled hashtag thing.

For my 40th birthday we went to Disneyland and it was the first time I had ever heard of a digital ticket.  I opted for the digital ticket instead of having our passes mailed because first and foremost, I am cheap to the bone and the digital option was free.  I showed them to Dr. Hymas, one of the pediatricians I used to work with, and made him describe how this was going to work.  When he told me I just needed to pull them up on my phone when we got to Disney and scan them to get into the park, I absolutely told him he was lying.  He assured me he used digital tickets all the time, even when flying and it was the best and coolest thing ever.  Since it was Dr. Hymas telling me the process and NOT Hannah, I gave it a try and by golly it worked!  I have since used digital tickets for all sorts of things like flights, hockey games, and even plays and I still can't figure out how the damn thing works!  I even have started putting my digital tickets into something called the IPhone Wallet and just like my real wallet, it keeps important things all together until I need them, without 20 pieces of stupid paper flapping around and getting lost.  WEIRD!

I had my mind blown again over technology just today.  You see, a few days ago, my brother was trolling around for money to pay back my dad for doing our taxes every year.  He told me that I could pay my share to him with ApplePay if I wanted.  He actually told me the same thing last year but since I'm cheap and old and didn't want to pay the service fee (which I assumed there would be) I mailed a check.  He insinuated that I was old and lame last year when he got my check, so I decided that this year, I was not going to repeat the hashtag incident and would try to figure out ApplePay.  I almost turned back when I saw the 6 dollar service fee, but decided that the convenience, along with not sending a paper check that might foul our earth, plus proving I am NOT old and lame was worth it.  Here's proof I did it:

Turns out you send your money through a text message.  A TEXT MESSAGE!  What the hell is going on with this world?  How does this work?  Is every computer on this planet communicating?  Do the computers know that I am old, inept, and slightly scared by all this digital technology?  And how is my brother going to get the money I sent with ApplePay?  Will it just go on the credit card he chose?  Did he choose a debit card so it will go into his bank account?  Does he have to pay a fee to use that money I just sent him?  I guess I really am old and out of touch.  I don't know how much more technology I can handle.  What is it you young whippersnappers say these days?  Poundsign old lady?...

Epitome of Culture

Anyone who knows me well is probably aware that Jared and I have been season ticket holders to Broadway touring shows since the first year of our marriage.  In other words, for nearly 21 years.  I had been attending the theater for several years prior to meeting Jared because my roommate's grandparents had an extra seat at the Capital Theater in Salt Lake City which they generously let me purchase from them.  I learned pretty quickly after sitting in their most excellent seats that I liked sitting close to the stage.  Therefore, it only took about one year to realize I was a theater snob and only the best and most expensive seats would do for me.  I literally would rather stay home from a play if it means I have to sit in a crappy cheap seat.  I'd rather maintain my dignity than have anyone around me think I am penniless like them.  I know at least one of my siblings will find this information surprising given how tightly I clutch my nickels when it comes to everything else except food.  However, I will not apologize for my few refined and expensive tastes.

When Jared and I were in school and didn't have two nickels to rub together, we always managed to cobble together the annual theater subscription fee with tax returns, other refunds, and sometimes our Christmas or birthday money.  Thus, no one sitting around me in the high class seating knew that I was a Ramen noodle and scrambled egg theater aficionado.  I literally didn't have money for much of anything else!  For many years it was my special date night with Jared.  We'd leave our crappy kids behind with a baby sitter and some frozen pizza, and off we'd tromp to the theater, eating beforehand at a really high class restaurant like Crown Burger.  When things were a little looser right before we graduated and left for Idaho for my first job, we decided to add a third seat so that we could take one of the girls to our shows and teach them how to be snobbish and uppity.  We began to let the girls choose the restaurant prior to the show and I have enjoyed watching their palates become more refined and pricey through the years.  I essentially have 5 theater and restaurant minions running around and it gives me joy.

This last week it was Bub's turn to see "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory" at the Boston Opera House.  She of course was excited and couldn't wait to go.  I took her restaurant choice away from her because I was tired of eating at Chinatown 20 million times a year.  We tried an Italian place one of my partners suggested.  It was essentially a glorified Olive Garden, but that's the beauty of Boston, there's a million restaurants to try so I am sure next trip we can find another place that suits our fancy a little better.  Here's Bubba posing for me:

I may be a theater snob, but I have the weakest old lady bladder known to man, so Jared, Bub, and I decided to take a pit stop before the show got started.  Since I maintain the highest standards of dignity, I took the opportunity to send my friends Kareena and Sarah a selfie:

In case you can't tell, that's me sitting on the toilet.  I didn't want to get behind on the peeing pictures I send to that particular trashy group and thought I'd use my theater tastes to elevate the quality of the content.  I'm sure they appreciated my class given the lively discussion we had by text after.  I was sure that with all the high class dawdling Bub and I did taking selfies in the John, that Jared would be waiting for me in the lobby.  When I didn't see him, I was a little worried I had missed him somewhere.  Since I still had his ticket and he couldn't claim his seat without it, I sent a very respectful text to ask if he was still in the bathroom.  Just to show how refined my theater attendance has made me, I would like to offer a screenshot for your perusal.  Individuals who do not have the funds to attend the theater are often more crass and perverted than I am.  Just marvel at what a high class lady I am...

The show wasn't my favorite, but it was cute and Bub had a good time.  Plus, Jared got a primo parking place right at the exit and could not stop pointing out how fantastic he was for spotting said spot.  

I'd like to deride Jared for his boastful parking.  I'd like to say that high class theater folks DO NOT brag about what a great parking spot they find.  Nor do they continue to point it out OVER AND OVER again once they get back to their car, consistently mentioning how quickly they got their friends out of the parking garage after the show.  However, I've been sitting next to Jared for over 20 years in expensive theater seats and know he's been attending regularly.  I guess the only excuse I have for his shameful behavior is that he's riding on my coattails and for some reason has not allowed the theater experience to adequately wipe out some of his more trashy qualities.

On the way home, we gobbled up the treats we had purchased at Phillip's Candy House on our way into Boston.  I've seen this place on the side of the road a dozen times and finally stopped.  How was it?  Fantastic!  We bought Bub some chocolate covered gummy bears and bought a pound of assorted treats for ourselves.  I had mentioned to Hannah earlier in the evening that I would bring her some.  However, as the night wore on, I no longer wanted to share my bounty.  That's the thing about us refined theater goers - we often back out of promises and commitments, especially if chocolate is involved.  I sent the following message to Hannah:

Unfortunately, she's a long time theater snob too and you just can't walk over another snob as easily as you would a regular cheap seats person... unless of course you are married to me, and then I can do what I want with you...  Just read the parking paragraph if you doubt me...  Anyhoo, after much discussion with my car companions, we brought Hannah only a few pieces of our booty (it was exactly two) and inhaled the rest ourselves.  I'm sure you'd like to pass some judgement about how piggish and rude I am.  However, I am a theater snob and therefore everything I do is high class...  I'm sure there are plenty of folks that can back me up on this, but I'll have to get back to you about whom you should interview on the subject.  February is School of Rock and we will be taking Emma.  Now I just have to figure how to get into Phillip's without her seeing me so that I don't have to share my high quality theater treats again...

        

  

At it Again

I just found out this last week that not only will my parents be visiting for Bubba's upcoming baptism, but my sister and her little family will be too.  My parents came last spring and although my house was in disarray because of the renovation that we had started/still needed to start, I only felt the need to impress my parents by telling  them I was embarrassed about the state of my house  - not by actually doing anything to renovate faster so that they might feel more comfortable while they were here.  Unfortunately, with Boone coming, I'm really going to have to step up my game.  Although my verbal excuses will win some points, that cat has no problem telling you what a miserable loser you are, so I gotta get a few more things taken care of to keep her fat mouth from bugging me too much about... well, what a miserable loser I know I actually am...

What have I decided to work on?  Well, my dining room, so that maybe we can have enough room for everyone to sit down during meals this summer.  I did manage to do a little bit of work when I first moved in.  You see, my favorite gal Maria had several areas on the dining room floor that had been damaged and replaced with oak patches instead of pine which the original floor was laid with.  Maria had so much crap in that house that her patches were covered with her 10 tons of ugly furniture.  It wasn't until I moved in that I finally saw her stupid ugly patches and man was I mad about it!  I forgot to take before pictures of the areas, but after I had paid a floor guy named Rego (he's great actually) to repair the floor, I did remember to take a before and after pic of one of the patched areas.  Before:

After: 

I actually refinished the front entry way, the living room, and the dining room before Jared and the girls arrived because the flooring was so terrible, I didn't want to have any further damage done to it while I waited to renovate each room.  I'm going to have to do a few more coats to the floor now that I'm starting the actual room renovation, but at least I won't have to take it back down to bare wood again.  Praise.

Know what else Maria did in the dining room?  well, this:

See that shelf just cut off in the middle of the wall?  She had a big armoire in front of that area so I didn't see THAT idiocy until she moved out either!  The dining room has built in shelves around the entire room.  There used to be a door by that shelf and Maria and/or her cronies sheetrocked over said door and just left the cut out area without a shelf.  (Please don't ask me to discuss what I think about her sheetrock job)!  That missing shelf looks fantastic without anything in front of it let me tell you!  It's taken me nearly 2 years to decide what to do about it.  I have had exactly 4 ideas that I have pondered for the last 20 months and it was the fourth that finally won.  They are, in order of their conception, the following:

1. Find a 3D printed replacement for the missing shelf
2. Find a carpenter to manufacture a wooden replacement for the shelf
3. Drive to Cranston, find Maria, and murder her with the pipe and golf balls she left in the basement
4. Rip out the shelving and replace it with wainscotting

I hope it's going to look fantastic.  It certainly can't be any worse than what Maria left me!  At least I already have some good before and after pics of the shelf removal.  Before Jared started pulling off the baseboard:

After Jared started pulling off the baseboard:  

Gosh I love that plumber's crack.  It goes on for miles!  In all honesty, I hope I will have something really nice to blog about in about 6 months, but I'm actually afraid Boone and my parents will arrive to find a bigger mess than what my folks saw last year!  These things always take me longer to finish then I think they will.  Like my basement that I thought I would have nearly done by now:

Or my fence that completely needs to be replaced.  Look at my back fence with its two spots that are already waving in the breeze:

Heaven help me if we get a bad Nor'easter this year.  Any decent wind is going to blow that picket monstrosity down, and my poor back fence neighbors will have an unobstructed view of my horrible back yard - complete with the deep holes from the foundation I haven't finished digging out yet.

You're right Briana.  I'm a mess.  And a weirdo.  And...  hey, wanna come check out the three season porch falling off the side of my house?  Step inside and let's make your visit interesting... 

Darwin

A month or so ago, one of my midwife partners was wanting to find a new home for her cat, Darwin.  It seems he wasn't very happy living in an apartment.  It was also relayed that he wasn't particularly fond of her sweet little baby either,.  Although Jared and I have been anti animal for several years, we were beginning to miss having something furry running around under our feet.  Plus, the pictures of him as a kitten were so cute...

So, we jumped feet first and decided to take him.  We have a nice big house, a decent sized yard, and larger babies than Chelsea, so we figured it would be a good match.  Plus, Chelsea said he didn't scratch furniture and used his litter box so what could go wrong?  Here's Bubba trying to convince him to be her friend the first day or so after he arrived:

How is it going with our new furry friend?  Well, fine if you're a member of the original Johanson family.  If your name is Darwin, however, it doesn't seem to be going as well for you.  First of all, he went missing about a week after he arrived.  We could not find him anywhere, and though I left food and water out for him for a week after he went missing, his litter box was devoid of turds and his food had not been touched.  I figured that he must have run out the front door and sheepishly told Chelsea I had only been responsible with her cat for exactly 7 days.  Fast forward nearly 2 weeks and I thought I could smell cat in the basement.  Jared and I went down and searched again.  No cat, no poop, and a scentsy took care of the strange odor.  Several days later, Emma was in the basement and Darwin ran past her feet.  The whole family tromped downstairs and after some serious searching, we found him tucked on a shelf behind my canning jars.  He was thin as could be and had obviously been drinking out of my basement toilet.  None of us could find the 2 weeks of poopie he had to have dropped somewhere, so we gave up the turd search and dragged our rediscovered treasure back upstairs.  We were delighted that our furry friend was very cuddly, full of loud purrs, and free with his leg rubs now that his long, self imposed isolation was over.  I figured he was probably over the trauma of his relocation and got prepared to settle in with my new furry son.    

Darwin's new found warmth for his new found family lasted exactly 24 hours and now, we are back to reality.  What do I mean?  Well, first, there's the biting - which can happen out of the blue if you aren't watching carefully.  Then of course there's the swatting and scratching, which if you are Bubba, you get a fair share of right to your face.  And then, let's not forget about the hissing, which Darwin has a particular talent for.  He has his sweet moments to be sure.  Every night, he jumps on my bed and purrs and snuggles for exactly 2 minutes.  Then he will either run away, or bite me and run away.  Trust me, it's been fantastic...  If you think for one minute that Darwin's crabby, snarling temperament has stopped any of us from trying to be his friend, (mostly Bubba) then you would be wrong.  For awhile, he started hiding in his litter box for some peace and quiet.  Bub caught on quick to that ruse.  Here she is asking why he's so rude.  Notice he is sitting in his bathroom:

When the litterbox trick stopped working, he went back to hiding deep in my closets and under the beds.  That doesn't stop Bubba and the rest of the crew from crawling into his hidey holes and dragging him out for forced attention.  In fact, you can find him slung over Bubba's arm for most of her waking hours.  As soon as he growls and snarls, she lets him go.  She waits long enough for him to hide again, and then drags him back out for another go.  Look how thrilled he seems by our affection in every picture we have of him thus far (the pinned down ears in 2 of the 3 pics should be your clue about his utter happiness): 

I sometimes feel a little down about my current pet predicament, but I refuse to give up hope.  Surely Bubba and her cronies will eventually be to able wear him down enough that he will submit to our love and care and might even seek our company for longer than a hot minute.  I guess even if Darwin never warms up, the kids will have something to reminisce about when they get older - I can envision even now all the stories about the snarling, unhappy pet that is our Darwin.  Oh well.  I guess while all of the Darwin scratches on my arms are healing I should probably go look for the missing poop in my basement again.  Anyone want to help?  

Can You Read My Mind?

This week Jared asked me out on a date and actually planned the whole thing himself.  It was a really monumental experience given that he hasn't asked me out or planned a date all by himself since we were first together over 20 years ago.  It's not like we don't go out together...  We actually go out more now than we ever have before because our jerk babies are finally old enough to take care of themselves for a few hours.  It's just that we don't usually go to the trouble of asking the other person out on an official date.  This is how our alone time normally goes:

Me:  Want to go out?

Jared:  Yeah

Me:  Where do you want to go?

Jared:  Anywhere you want to go

Me:  (Mildly annoyed tone)  Want to go out to eat maybe?

Jared:  Sure

Me:  Where would you like to eat?

Jared:  Anywhere.  I'm hungry and I'm not picky

Me:  (Moderately to majorly annoyed)  WHY CAN'T YOU EVER JUST PICK SOMETHING?!

It goes on and on like this for a good 10 minutes before I finally just pick the activity or restaurant and then fume that I married a man that literally cares about nothing....  Well, almost nothing... Which brings me back to the date I just got asked out on.  Know what Jared cares a lot about?  Superman.  It just so happens that Superman the Movie was back in theaters to celebrate its 40th anniversary and my lover wanted to see, and I quote, "One of the best movies ever made."  So out on a date I went!

I actually grew up watching Superman quite a few times myself.  Probably not nearly as many times as the nerd I'm hitched to, but I had to have seen it at least 15 times - maybe even 20.  Therefore, when Jared asked me to dinner and a movie, I wasn't all that put out about it.  Heck, one might even say I was sort of excited to go.  We had steak at the Texas Road House which was tasty.  It broke the rule I made once we moved to Rhode Island in that I told the kids we could not eat at any chain restaurants until we had eaten at every local place in the state.  However, Jared had a gift card from work he would have wasted otherwise so TRH it was.

We made it to the theater about 5 minutes before showtime.  Luckily, Jared had gone earlier in the day to purchase tickets because he wanted to make sure he had a seat.  How crowded was it?  Well, we shared the theater with about 10 people, so thank goodness my old man planned ahead!  How was the movie?  B-O-R-I-N-G.  How in the world did I ever like that stinker?  And what's with Lois?  She's a real corn ball.  Here she is, supposed to be this strong feminist lead, and she's weak in the knees for stupid Superman, spouting poetry anytime he takes her flying!  I don't know why he wasted his time bringing her back to life when her car falls into the San Andreas fault at the end.  If I were Superman, I would have yelled down at her stranded, half buried car, "Good riddance Lois!  I'll tell Perry White you won't be coming back to work!"  It must have been her pink panties that made the Man of Steel a bit of a sissy for Lois.  How else can you explain him turning back time to save her ridiculous life?

Once we were seated in the nearly empty theater, I thought it would be pretty smooth sailing.  Unfortunately, Jared had to tell some jerk to turn off his stupid cell phone.  There was also this doof in the theater that laughed his head off like a maniac about every 2 minutes or so.  I sat there thinking, "Dude, this movie is 40 years old!  This cannot be the first time you have seen this show!  KNOCK IT OFF!"  After about 15 minutes of his nonsense, I leaned over to Jared and told him I was going to walk up and murder that idiot if he didn't stop ruining the most boring show I'd seen in years.  Jared then calmly pointed out that he thought the owner of the empty wheelchair in the front row was probably the self same comedian on the back row.  I felt like a real doof myself for being so insensitive about the man's handicap and made a vow to let it go.  I was surprised to find that I enjoyed the movie slightly more when I put his squeals into perspective.  That dude was so excited and happy to be watching Jared's favorite movie on the big screen.  Pure, childlike joy.  Can't fault a person for that.  Hell, if Jared had any emotion at all, he probably would have gone up to the back row and laughed and giggled with the dude himself.

I couldn't wait for that old stinker to be over - especially since I have been fighting a fairly nasty head cold that has left me with Laryngitis.  It didn't matter how many times I tried to tell Jared how dumb that movie was.  The old geek didn't care.  He still loves Superman.  He still would watch that Christopher Reeve rendition any time or place he could.  And I can guarantee he will still ask me to go the next time it plays in the theater no matter how much I complain about it.  I guess that's true love for you.  I'll go anywhere with that old duffer - no matter how miserable or bored it might make me...  I still draw the line at professional wrestling though my love - so don't even ask...




  

 

We Hold These Truths to be Self Evident

Jared and I just got back from a trip to Philadelphia.  I know lots of people like Philly but I think it's a stinky, dirty city, and the residents can be quite rude.  I only went because of a conference I needed to attend, not because I necessarily wanted to visit for pleasure.  This was not my first visit to Philly and unfortunately, it probably won't be my last.  It certainly is one of the most important states as far as the birth of our country is concerned and I can appreciate that.  It also is a pedestrian friendly city and boasts a pretty delicious food scene.  Public transit is also really easy to use even if the fares are a littler higher than in other US cities.  Philly also has some really beautiful architecture as far as public buildings go and I enjoyed marveling at that part of the city again this trip.  My conference was pretty time intensive so Jared and I didn't get out as much as we did the last time we were in Philadelphia, but we still managed to find some new things to see and impressive new food to shove into our gobs.


I assumed when I got back that I would have lots of evidence of the great things we did despite my dislike of the city.  When I reviewed my pictures, I found exactly two appropriate specimens.  Here's the first in front of Independence Hall:

And this one riding the train back from Boston to Providence at the end of the trip:

What the heck was I doing with my time?  Turns out I spent more time sending inappropriate pictures to my friends Kareena and Sarah then I spent documenting my trip to Philly.  In some ways, it's not really my fault.  A few weeks ago, Sarah told me she had been thinking about sending me a pic of her peeing in a hospital bathroom because I'm always sending those types of pics to her.  Unfortunately, she left her phone with her husband and the moment had flown.  She then had the great idea for the three of us to start collecting interesting bathroom pics together.  Not one to scoff at any questionable idea, I whole heartedly accepted the challenge.  First there was my artistic choice in Philly:

Followed by my more inventive choice once I'd arrived back in Boston:

Then let's not forget the pics I sent a day before I had to go back to work while I was at one of Lily's cross country meets:

Kareena was a little surprised I'd bothered in a latrine but I am committed to my craft.  Additionally, I'd like to point out that those 2 losers have yet to send anything so someone has to carry the day, and as usual, I'm happy to shoulder the burden.  I'm pretty sure there are several people in my life that wonder if I ever have a moment of shame...  or maybe they wonder if I ever consider choosing propriety over a laugh...

I guess that would be a no.

Wikihow has Changed my Life

Yesterday, Jared and I were lounging around in bed when he stumbled on some stupid video about how a lady got her cat down after it got stuck in a tree.  I for one think cats getting stuck in trees is a bunch of baloney.  If a stupid feline can climb up, let the idiot climb back on down.  How do you know that cat didn't go up there just for attention and is waiting to see exactly what lengths its owner will go to just to help it back down?  Ignore it I say.  When it sees you're not going to play into its paws, it will come down and might even think twice before it runs back up again.  Even though my aforementioned opinion about cats in trees seems logical to me, I figured I better ask an expert about whether cats getting stuck in trees is a real thing or not.  Naturally, the person I trust the most to answer all my important questions is Google, and Google did not let me down.  The jury is still out on whether I believe that cats in trees really need to be rescued, but Google did help me understand that I have completely underestimated Wikihow.  I've run into Wikihow during Google searches before for reasonable questions about such things as home renovations or landscaping.  Turns out they have some wisdom on cats stuck in trees too.  Here's the URL in case you care:  https://www.wikihow.com/Get-a-Cat-out-of-a-Tree

Did I find the information useful?  No.  Did I find the information hilarious?  Affirmative.  The crazy/crazies that wrote this tutorial are definitely committed to the idea that your stuck cat might need some help.  However, they also recommend caution with tip number 7:

That's right people.  Wait at least 24 hours.  Then maybe think about getting involved in coaxing down your manipulative feline.  I laughed so hard reading all the instructions I could barely breathe.  I looked over at Jared and asked if he thought a person could actually get some helpful advice out of this website on anything they could possibly think to ask about.  Since he didn't seem too interested and wouldn't give me a search parameter, I went all in with my own great idea...

"HOW TO HAVE SEX"

Wikihow did not let me down.  Again, the URL for my favorite hit in case you'd like to peruse yourself is as follows:  https://www.wikihow.com/Have-Sex-Without-Your-Parents-Knowing

Check out the opening line I circled for you:

That's right.  And it only got better from there.  Not only is this search going to help me be creepy next time I visit my mom, I now know what shenanigans my kids are going to try in order to have sex behind my back.  I'm totally on the defensive now.  I don't need some dirty perv emitting random teenage semen around my house, and Wikihow has given me the tools to keep my house free from clandestine sex and/or semen!  I do however, take issue with the following tip:

Take it from me and an experience I had in southern Utah.  Car sex is a horrible idea.  It's cramped, it can be stifling hot, and because there's so many windows, there is a high potential for getting caught in the act.  Take it from me.  Stick to a nice comfy bed where you belong.  But not my bed....  Wikihow taught me what you are planning, so don't even think about having sex on my comfy pillowtop...

Since Wikihow had entertained me twice in one night, I had even more faith that any question I asked could be answered.  I finally got my lover on board and he wanted to know "How to wipe my can."  Did Wikihow come through?  Not exactly.  It pulled up "How to Bathe a Guinea Pig" with that search, but it also pulled up this gem at the following URL:  https://www.wikihow.com/Remove-Butt-Hair

I know...  I had endless questions myself...  Like, how many people want to remove their butt hair and actually don't know the first thing about how to get started?  Or, how many requests for a butt shaving tutorial have the editors at Wikihow gotten?  And what brand of lotion exactly would you recommend that I put on my butt?

I finally finished my Wikihow search on butt wiping and noticed that there was a "random" option on the webpage.  I almost thought my night couldn't get any better.  Are you kidding me Wikihow?  You will randomly select something fantastic for me to learn about that is going to beat everything I had searched so far?!  I absolutely clicked the random button and like the 3 fantastic experiences I had had before, Wikihow did not let me down:

Yep.  I honestly don't remember how I used to entertain myself before the internet came along.  I tried to show my daughter Hannah how hilarious my searches were, but she was unimpressed.  Turns out she already knew about Wikihow but had failed to mention it to me despite the length of our friendship.  At least she guessed that I had asked Wikihow about sex, and since I showed her my search, she'll think twice about pulling this on any of the beds in my house:

Keep up the good work Wikihow.  I can't thank you enough.