XM Radio Gone Wild........The Completely Uncensored Pictures!

Lately I've been a bit concerned about my beloved XM Satellite Radio. It seems to have developed a very unhealthy fixation towards things of a posterior nature. Observe the conclusive findings of my intensive and psychologically deep butt probe.
Tori Amos- Sleeps With Butt
Really???!!? Maybe she should find someone else to sleep with if she can't say anything nice about her current sleeping companion.






The White Stripes-The Hardest Butt
Did Jack White write this after a particularly strenuous workout with his Buns Of Steel program? The hardest butt is the toughest to crack.....





Smashing Pumpkins-Bullet With Butt
(Kind of hard to see. Stupid cell phone camera)
Did Billy Corgan order specially made bullets with tiny engraved butts displayed on them? Maybe that was the ammo store special of the month......'Today Only: Git Your Bullet With A Side Of Butt For Half-Price!'

I'm just an amateur at analyzing the darkened annals of the booty-obsessed mind. Perhaps this is a case better reserved for a Freudian-trained specialist dealing in naughty XM Radio displays. I also have to report that my XM radio flashed a sign at me just last week saying, 'I Want Your Sex,' and it inappropriately propositioned a dear friend of mine with a sultry message of 'Let's Get It On.' If this continues I may have to give my satellite display a nice, old-fashioned cold shower to settle down some of this friskiness.

Seasons Don't Fear The Reaper......And Neither Do Pineapple!

Our cashier at the grocery store trembled in fear the exact moment we placed our two ripened pineapples up on the conveyor belt for purchase.

Yeah, pineapples. The petite young cashier began to shakily tell us in a quavering voice, "I've always been deathly afraid of pineapples. Please will you scan and bag them for me? I'm too scared to even touch them." The Infidel daughters complied and we even managed to refrain from mocking her.....until we got outside the store anyway.

How sheltered a life must you lead where your greatest fear lies in the form of a spiny fruit that can transform into a fun and exotic tropical drink container? I'm not completely devoid of compassion. I mentally calculated how many missed opportunities and travails this young lady will have to endure until she conquers her irrational Fruitaphobia.
1. She can never marry Spongebob because his lovely 'Pineapple-Under-The-Sea' abode would be akin to living in a House Of Horrors for her.
2. Rachael Ray won't hire her as a Cooking Assistant once she fails the "Works Well With Pineapples" portion of the requisite psychological exam. Rachael is not taking any chances on the possibility of a Pineapple Upside Down Cake demonstration freakout.
3. The Fruit Of The Loom guys make her public enemy number one in a show of unity and support for their pineapple brethren.
4. Carmen Miranda is called in as her therapist as she specializes in Pineapple Phobias.
5. She auditions for the Black Lace Agadoo World Reunion Tour and gets in a panic attack when she sees the dancing pineapple. (You HAVE to watch this video. Soooooo amusing.)
6. She will never capture the pineapple crown and title as the reigning Little Miss Pineapple Queen. Never! How very sad for her.

The incident happened a few months ago but when I saw pineapples on special at the store this week I couldn't help but think of her and the inevitable horror every enthusiastic pineapple-buying customer will bring. The cruelly uncharitable side of me would like to lock her and the peach-phobia man up together in the produce section for an hour just to see what happens.

Turning Mexican, I Think I'm Turning Mexican, I Rather Think So.......

Papi and I really love that new vampire detective show on CBS: Moonlight. It's scintillating, mindless diversion the way scintillating, mindless diversion was intended to be. There's only two TV programs I watch faithfully during the week and this follows immediately after my beloved Ghost Whisperer. I've since lovingly adopted Moonlight into my limited TV viewing schedule.

So basically Mick St. John is the Edward Cullen of the Vampire Detective World. He has morals! He has values! He has a great azz, feathered hair, and an undead heart of gold!

MOONLIGHT [1:58]

This particularly steamy episode featured the main chick who lusts after Mick as she takes a naughty drug made of vampire blood that sends her straight into batsheet crazy territory. At precisely 1:15 or so you see her pulling a Bella Swan by pantingly begging Mick to turn her into a vampire while offering up her succulent neck. Of course our hero doesn't take the bait and instead douses the mortal hottie in a cold shower.

As soon as the commercial break hit, my Mexican Papi startlingly lunged across the bed at me and bared his teeth inches from my neck as he seductively purred, "Girlie, do you want me to turn you?" I started laughing as I pushed him away and said, "Turn me into what? A Mezzican? I'd rather die than ride around in a low-rider Vatamobile blaring mariachi music while eating a chorizo breakfast taquito. Besides a diet rich in beans is no bueno for a farty chick like me."

My amazing, over-talkative Gringa Powers saved me once again from the clutches of a hot, Mexican predator!

Wait a minute. I want to be pursued by a hot, Mexican predator. I wonder if I can trade in my Gringa Powers for some Chicana Power? Maybe then I can finally satisfy my man........by making him the best Chicken Mole evah!

You're So Vain.......You Probably Think This Blog Post Is About You

A lovely English Sister in our ward at Church delights in fussing over Melody every chance she gets. She quite often tells me in her stately accent, "Your Melody is so gorgeous."

So on occasion I'll teasingly repeat that to Melody to which she matter-of-factly and proudly exclaims, "That's right! I AM so gorgeous!"
For sure, the gods of self-confidence were smiling upon this child the day she made her grand entrance into the mortal coil.

My BUNS OF STEEL Workout Regimen Using LEGO Blocks

"Elasticwaistbandlady, a blogging Infidel . A woman barely alive. Gentlemen, we can rebuild her. We have the technology. We have the capability to build the world's first bionic woman. Elasticwaistbandlady will be that woman. Better than she was before. Better, stronger, faster.......and a second third stomach to accommodate her voracious appetite."

Mothering two rampaging sons has rendered me nearly indestructible--especially in the tender foot and tushy areas. I've stepped on, sat on, fell on, and pranced on so many little plastic toy pieces scattered about my floor that I could bill myself as the world's first LEGO cyborg mom. I'm sure that a routine physical would uncover enough tiny blocks hidden amongst my squishy, heiny-folds to erect an entire LEGO city--a city that's never quite complete because there's always another "new-and-improved" set you have to purchase. Oh how I do so love toys thats designed specifically to make you keep buying and buying more to add on to it.

Anyway, I'm not really sure why Papi wants to waste his time watching recycled 70's cheeseball-o-rama shows like The New Adventures of the Old Bionic Woman, when he has me, his own personal Bionicle Woman by his side.

My weapon of choice as a mighty Bionicle Woman? The high-speed hurling of an itty-bitty ,connectible-piece arsenal that strikes certain fear and dread in the hearts of thine enemy....thus engaging them to stoop over and scoop them all up off the floor which leads to extremely debilitating backaches. I'm a calculating foe, indeed.

Fear me!

A Walrus And His Bucket Are Soon Parted......And Then Happily Reunited Again!

Looking for the perfect Christmas gift this year for that special, special walrus on your holiday list?

The Ongoing International Saga Of The Noble Walrus And His Missing Bucket [1:20]

Thanks to the Dollar Store I can easily afford to pick up an individualized Butt Bucket for each and every one of my walrus friends for them to cherish forever........well, so long as they don't actually try to fit their walrus butts into the bucket. I already tested this product out with my own saggy, flabby walrus butt and it did not withstand the extreme fatty force very well at all.

I can haz buckit???!!?? Of course you can! Thanks Butt Bucket!

You Might Be A Redneck If.......

You Produce Your Very Own Brand Of Jerky With Your Earnestly Smiling Face Plastered All Over The Front Of The Bag.

Yes, Jeff Foxworthy has Big Bold Flavor! And he's neatly packaged it all up to hawk to you processed meat consumers. Jerky Jeff is not only a premium quality cut of meat but he's also low in fat and iron-rich....well, according to the hype printed out on the bag anyway.

Times are tough for the jerky side of Jeff, though, because his product was going for less than Boss Hawg's used portable urinal down at Big Lots discount store. I'm willing to wager its due to the fact that a little bit of Jeff in every bite probably means it tastes 'funny.'

I don't really plan on eating it, mind you. No, instead I want to put the jerky strips across my upper lip to simulate a Jeff Foxworthy mustache. Mmmmmm, so Jeffy and so jerky all at once.

Infidel House Party!

*Using my most annoying Casey Kasem voice*
And the number one song in the Infidel household for two weeks in a row is..........
Orson- Ain't No Party
We seriously can't get enough of it and the video rocks too! Sadly, like most current Infidel favorites iTunes does not carry this track yet. Boo iTunes! At least we can still bounce to it courtesy of youtube.

And now you'll never look at a "House Party" the same way again.

I know the pictures from my camera-phone constitutes some pretty crappy photo quality but I really love this picture of my two youngest children while at the Library on Friday........especially the way Melody seems so focused and intent on checking out what her brothers doing.

Huked On Fonix Wirked Fo Mee

Okay. I jumped out of my truck this morning in the darkened twilight hours just to capture the magnetic signage marvel slapped onto the tailgate of a pickup in my neighborhood. They spelled computer as 'KOMPUTER?' Seriously? I'm not sure I want a technician poking around at something he can't even spell. If he was trying for alliterative cuteness, why didn't he name his business KNOX KOMPUTER KOMPANY rather than Service? They could have abbreviated it to K.K.K. Maybe I have it all wrong and KOMPUTER is something totally different from COMPUTER. In which case, I want one for Christmas. I don't want to be left out.
File this one in the E For Eelliterate category.

Wanted: Biker Gangs That Can Cut, Punch, Slice, And Coordinate Pretty Colors

There's something so dark and so sinister going down within the secretive inner sanctum of this country's toughest biker bars that not even the mainstream press has enough cojones to bring you the shocking story. Nay, only your hardcore Smiling Infidel reporter can rub whiskery-beard hair with the outlaw fringes of society to report on this hidden world. And no, I don't really have cojones.

Flush along the rear wall of the proto-typical biker hangout.....back behind the obligatory pool tables and pulsing, neon beer signs lies a room used for the most ritualistic of purposes. The biker gang gathers there every fortnight to carry forth with what has become a standing tradition that furthers their bond of brotherhood and unites them with its very secrecy........they scrapbook feverishly until they can scrapbook no more.
After a long day of looting, raping, pillaging, and plundering, its nice to have a shared hobby in common, don't you think? I mean, why else would the scrapbooking industry have tapped into this niche market by producing a Harley-Davidson scrapbook kit and line of bad ash, scrappy accoutrements? Blowing money on strong booze, vulgar tattoos, and skeezy women is so old school. These biker dudes choose to invest in something that can commemorate their good times on acid-free paper to last the eternities. Ooops, hope the District Attorney doesn't subpoena these scrappin labor-of-loves. Pages titled "My First Liquor Store Hold-Up!" or "Hangin With My Hells Angels Homies!" might be fairly incriminating in a court of law.

Don't dare mock these studded, leather-clad masters of the decorative pom-pom borders because they're armed and dangerous with a wide assortment of serrated-edge scrapbooking scissors and rotary cutters and they're not afraid to slice you up like the orange-flamed paper used for their super special 'Grease Pit Maul And Ball Dance 2006' page, beyotch.

What happens in the scrapbooking room, stays in the scrapbooking room.

Here's a close up of even more Harley scrapbooking gear:

Born To Be Mild

I Beat The Tar Out Of My Old Lady--Well In Scrapbooking Anyway

Your Halloween Candies Are Belonging To Us!

It was a Halloween night of terror.....a night when the donuts rose up and walked among us next to boogers the size of 10 year old boys and singing, dancing vampires........Sounds like some kind of misfit musical that not even Andrew Lloyd Webber would produce, doesn't it?

I totally ripped off borrowed Tori's snotty costume idea for my son. Buster both thrilled and grossed the crowds out with his 'Booger On A Kleenex' disguise. It ain't easy being green! A select few even got showered with his potent green Silly String mucous as he sneezed on them. I begged NCS to make me this awesome rubber chicken graphic to complete my costume as an official Rubber Chicken Factory Inspector. I had an apron stuffed full of rubber chickens, latex gloves, protective goggles, and a Du-Rag.
Here's a riddle for you: How Many Infidels Does It Take To Tie A Du-Rag?
Answer: Three. And we still didn't get that confounded piece of polyester on correctly.
Hey, those things don't come with instructions or anything. And now I know that sadly, I'll never lead the ghetto-fabulous lifestyle since I'm in desperate need of a special Du-Rag Tutorial Class....Du-Rags For Dummies.

My Caterpillar got the most comments for her sprinklelicious donut costume. Or DOUGHNUT, for you pastry purists out there. I don't have time to type out an extra 3 letters. I'm busy, okay? We've decided to make her our official Infidel family mascot! And the filling inside that donut is unarguably the sweetest part although there's something a little bit squicky about grown men telling your young daughter that she looks "yummy." We heard a lot of that. :0 Sunbum masqueraded as the World's First Vampire Elvis Impersonator. She's the pride of Transylvania and can be seen in a weekly revue onstage at the Transylvanian Holiday Inn. Bring a friend and get your Van Helsing Chicken Fried Steak Platter half-price!

Here's my little booty-grabbing crew after a long and productive night plundering the candy supplies of all the Infidel neighbors. Uh-huh. BOOTY-GRABBERS. Candy Booty, that is.

Next year I'm going to make blindingly-yellow smiley faces out of circular cardboards and we'll just go as The Smiling Infidel Family.

From The 'Its A Dirty Job But Someones Gotta Do It' Files.....

One must always remember to wash ones hands rather vigorously with the strongest anti-bacterial soap available after meeting the acquaintance of a real, live Dick Carrier. That is all.