Target gets judgemental

I wandered down the cookie aisle at Target (I eat graham crackers instead of cookies now, but it's always nice to browse).

I knew I'd hit the cookie aisle because of this handy sign.

But before I could get too excited, I looked a little further down the aisle and saw this.

NOT SO FAST, FATASS! MAYBE THIS IS WHERE YOU SHOULD BE SHOPPING.

Sigh.

Weird

This just bugs me. Maybe if I write about it, I'll feel better about it.

Beau and I went up to his friend's cabin over the weekend. It's a pretty little place on five acres of lovely valley property.

This friend is a nice guy and an excellent host. He's completely gutting the house and refinishing it exactly the way he wants it.

He took us on the grand tour.

When we got to his room, I noticed a strange little green tribal figure hanging on the wall. It was noticeable mostly because it was about a foot tall and the phallus that jutted out of its midsection was about a foot tall as well. Hard to ignore (so to speak).

I mentioned it and he said I wondered if you'd notice that (how could you not notice an alien green foot-tall tribal figure with a foot-long hard-on?). But he said it to Beau, rather than to me.

Turns out, the figure used to belong to Beau's ex wife (the one who threatened me, cyber-stalked me, and basically made my life hell on earth for a year and a half).

He told us he dug it out of her trash without her knowledge.

And then it got really quiet for awhile. And then we went on with our evening.

Weird, weird, weird.

Because I don't feel like writing today

Some might argue that what's in this blog isn't considered writing at all, but whatever. Please enjoy.

Snooki's literary career

On Facebook, Random House, Inc., posted this hysterical and very repostable picture.

 

I fell in love with it. So did all of my book-nerd friends. One of them stopped by my desk and told me that she was shocked to learn that Snooki has written two... well, I guess you'd have to call them books (this is one of them).

We chatted about whether or not she really wrote them, coming to the easy conclusion that it's highly likely that she didn't.

And then I realized that we'll never EVER know. 

Because no writer on earth would ever admit to writing suck dreck. 

Her secret is safe forever.

Maybe she's smarter than I initially thought!

Editorial pet peeve

The tendency in business "writing" to write out a number and then put the numeral in parentheses right next to it.

For the next two (2) weeks, we'll be reviewing the statistics.

Sigh.

If the recipient can't read/decipher the word TWO, they won't be able to read any of the other words either, so what the fuck does it matter??

Again, sigh.

Shame on me, of course, for trying to apply logic to business "writing."

Grandma's elocution

I realize that everybody has specific ways of saying things.

A lot of people in/from California pronounce Milk as Melk.

And our Boston friends have that peculiar use of the letter R.

My dad, a Texan, has the best accidental pronunciation of Massachusetts ever: MassaTwoShits.

Growing up in Oklahoma as I did, I drop my Gs and say y'all more often than I should. 

But my grandma, from Nebraska, where they seemingly have no accents, has the strangest collection pronunciations I've ever heard.

First, she uses the one that a lot of midwesterners use. Wash: Warsh

No biggie.

But then it gets weird.

Branson: BRAWNson

Pueblo: PEEeblo

Puberty: POOberty

Chemo: ChEHmmo

And, our personal favorite (though we all seem to have blocked the context in which she said it):

Penis: PENnis (rhymes with tennis)

Pennis, anyone?

But you can bet your ass she can pronounce McMuffin without incident or misunderstanding!

I MUST figure out how to make these

Chocolate chip cookies with Oreos baked inside.

As The Frisky put it, it's the turducken of cookies!!!

Roomie's latest "joke"

Beau's roommate continues to astound with his lack of humor and class.

This is the joke he told us yesterday (actually, he told two; I cannot repeat the other one, which should tell you how bad it was):

People are always saying "Grow some balls!" But that doesn't make any sense. Balls are sensitive. People should really say "Grow a vagina!" because those things can take a pounding. 

And then, when I didn't laugh, he continued on with Wouldn't that be funny to hear at a bar? Grow a vagina! 

No, dipshit. It wouldn't.

Sigh.

Signs, signs, everywhere signs

I had a few days off recently. And as I made my way around town, I noticed A LOT of signs.

First, this is an anti-mold chip on the inside of a shoebox. As delicious as it looks and as tempted as we all are to eat anything we find in a shoebox, DO NOT EAT IT. In any country. Contain yourself.

Next, we have this keen grasp of the obvious (from someone who could not find similar sentiment on a regular old bumper sticker).

And now that we know why folks DON'T die, let's take a look at the reason why they kill.

Sigh. It's enough to drive me to drink.

Luckily...

Hobby Lobby erotica

Hi there! I'm really, really happy to see you!

Oh, I'm sorry! Does this offend you? I just want you to have.... uh... something to hang your coat on.

This is my friend Zeke. He has three eyes, so he's three times as happy to see you.

We'd introduce you to our elfin friend, but he's got his hands full. He's super excited that the holidays are coming!

Modern problems

I was in Steinmart the other day, apparently just to remind myself why I don't go to Steinmart. Lots of rhinestone and fur embellishments in there. I didn't buy anything. I don't need to look like a leather-clad bear with a disco ball for an ass.

While I walked around, I heard an angry voice. It kept buzzing around me like a mosquito. Finally, I focused in on the source.

It was a very skinny, well-to-do, Botoxed, 50-something, bleach-blonde (they tend to travel in packs in a certain Denver-area southern suburb that I need not mention). This one had broken away from the pack, but she nattered away on her phone to someone who, I'm sure, felt her pain.

She was wheeling around an expensive baby stroller. There was no baby around. I think she just brought it in so she could pile shoeboxes and fur-fringed leather vests into it.

As she wheeled and piled through the store, this is the part of the conversation I heard.

So I invited her to dinner and she offered to bring wine. I told her that would be great. I thought she'd bring Pino Grigio she likes, because that's what she always does. 


Well, she arrives and she brings CHARDONNAY!


What the hell am I supposed to do with that???

I weep for her and for everybody who was forced to sit through that dinner with the wrong white wine.

The horror.

The line between the sexes blurs a bit more

I stumbled upon this as I wandered through Dillard's last weekend.

Oh yes. Now everybody can enjoy paying for the inability to breathe! For a price, men can squeeze themselves into their very own control garments!

Excuse me... Cotton Compression Undershirt. Looks like I'm not the only one to notice muffin tops on men lately.

Compression'll cost ya, though. One of these babies costs $58. But hey, sausage casing ain't cheap.

We ladies have known this for years. :)

Enjoy!

I will never understand the point

Behind these nasty, ugly, gawd-awful toe sneakers.

No podiatric benefit is worth this heinousness.

But what's in it?

Dad called awhile ago with the following invitation:

Wanna come over for dinner tonight? I'm making a chicken dish for dinner tonight. It's called Orange Chicken. It's got chicken in it and... chicken. And... well, it's just got a lot of chicken in it. It's a chicken dish. 

How can I resist?

I'm especially glad I don't have a stupid roommate

When I hear stories like this from people who have stupid roommates:

I had to break up a round of strip horseshoes in the back yard because my roommate doesn't understand that I don't have an eight-foot fence and I do have neighbors with children. 


They protested that they weren't nude--they were just down to their underpants. 


Either way, I told them to put on their pants and come back inside the house.

Lawdy!

Bonsai!

This is a discussion I had with an individual I won’t name because… well, because it's just a little too sad.

I’ll give this guy some initials, though. How about SWF?

SWF has said in the past that it’s been a dream of his to own a bonsai tree. This, to me, is odd. The dream is entirely attainable. Bonsai trees are available at nurseries and roadside stands all over town. It’s your dream to own a bonsai? Go buy a bonsai.

Beau and I were at a nursery on Saturday (on my own nerdy mission: making terrariums--that's another post for another day) and we saw a whole row of the tiny little trees.

You should take a photo of one and send it to SWF, I told Beau. Let him know the dream lives on.

And so he did.

Later on that day, we ran into SWF. And the subject came up.

SWF: Saw a bunch of ‘em , huh?

Me: Yep. Ripe for the buyin’.

SWF: I just worry that one wouldn’t make it through the winter months.

Me: Well, they’re indoor plants. So I think one would be just fine as long as you kept it inside and watered it.

SWF: I wonder if one would come back if it died.

Me: That seems unlikely.

SWF: You don’t think so?

Me: No.

SWF: Why not?

Me: Because dead things don’t come back to life. They're DEAD. 

SWF: Oh.  

[silence]

Sigh.

The only reason to watch medieval slash-em-up movies

According to one Netflix reviewer:

Voluptuous torture scenes?

Granted, this was for a movie called Black Death (about the plague), but still.

Glad I'm not this dude's girlfriend. Or neighbor. Or acquaintance.

Yikes.

What's this, you ask?

Why, it's tattooed proof from a guy who said he had a cock that hangs below his knee. :)

I meet the most interesting people.

Whipped

If you're carrying around your girlfriend's purse for her, you're whipped.

Especially if the purse looks like this. And you're getting her car oiled and lubed.

Beau's roommate is an idiot

Here's just one of the reasons why.

He makes jokes like this in mixed company at parties:

If you want to keep a woman around, tattoo your dick with a dollar bill. Then she'll see your money grow and she'll never leave you. 

Really?

Had it not been for Beau, sitting beside me with a pleading look that said pleasejustletitgopleasejustletitgo, I'd have told him that nobody's impressed with a two-inch dollar bill.

Strike two, roomie.

Beautiful, affordable artwork

He's brilliant. Give him a photo and he'll give you a painting. I highly recommend him!!

It ain't easy bein' green

Beau and I stopped at the grocery store (the one in his neighborhood, where they look at you like a pariah if you wear something fancy--like a button-down shirt or a T-shirt without a Bud Light logo on it or... shoes).

And we saw this girl with the most beautiful vivid green hair.

It looked like this. Only brighter and more. It looked almost... alive.

I'm not being tongue-in-cheek when I say it was beautiful. She had short hair and it was adorable on her...

Until I looked a little farther down her face.

She'd applied the same color to her eyebrows. And it looked like two furry caterpillars were crawling across her face. Not good.

I hope she didn't go for an all-over look. I'm envisioning a putting-green look. Might be an adventure for the next guy to tee off.

Drugstore "beauty"

I stopped at my local drugstore to pick up the important prescriptions that keep me sane and unimpregnated. On my way back to the pharmacy, I took a detour (as I always do) through the cosmetics department to feed my lipgloss habit.

It's there that I spied the following attrocities.

First, this horrible lipgloss.

This isn't the color of the packaging, it's the color of the actual lipgloss inside.

First your lips have to be green. Then yellow (yay. lip jaundice). Then less-sad-but-still-sad shades of orange. Who wants green lips? You'll be shocked to note that not one of these had been purchased (not even by tweens, who--let's face it--will buy almost anything).

Then I came to the Rimmel line of cosmetics. I perused their offerings until I saw the horribly photoshopped pictures of Zooey Deschanel.

Zooey Deschanel is adorable, talented, and quirky.

Now look at what Rimmel did to her.

If that's the before and after of Rimmel, I'll stay with before, thanks.