Every family has a couple of these. Right?

My mother's cousin Sue is a pill. She's one of those women with whom you have to walk on eggshells. She's always upset by something. She lives an offended life. And she's great at it.

The latest offense was the fact that my mom didn't attend a surprise party for a man she'd seen three times in 30 years.

Horrible offense, right?

Sue, who thought Mom should have gone, stewed for awhile.

And then Mom and Dad came home to the following message:

Hello, it's Sue. I'm calling between television shows so you'd pick up the phone. But oh well. I'm sitting here looking at the Christmas present you bought me. It's so lovely... it's obvious you bought it for yourself. I'll see that it gets back to you. Goodbye.

WHUCK? My mother was floored. She bought the gift for Sue. The message hurt her feelings. And Mom is one of the sweetest, kindest individuals you'd ever meet.

Sigh. I'm so sick of bitchy, cantankerous old ladies.

Tell me this shit doesn't just happen in my family.

UPDATE: Mom called and found The Gift on her doorstep. Sue needs to grow the fuck up. 

I'm about to sound ignorant

Willfully ignorant at that, but oh well.

I've never really known what goes into a mincemeat pie.

All I knew is that it sounded gross, so why bother? Who puts meat in a pie?

So today at Target, when I spotted a jar of mincemeat pie filling (on sale, but I digress) I opened my mind and decided to find out what the ingredients actually are--hell,  it might not even have meat in it.

It has meat in it. And fruit and sugar. And, in one stomach-churning recipe, pickle juice.

Who puts meat in pie???

This just proves to me that, even in ignorance, I. Am. Right! :)

Meat and pickle juice. Yuck.

This title made me laugh

At the bookstore last week. Especially considering where I grew up. It must have caught a few other eyes as well. Keep an eye on ABC for the pilot episode of Good Christian Bitches!

Lord help us all.

Plop, plop, fizz, fizz

Got a little head cold brewin'. Nothing serious. Just annoying.

I'm takin' a little Alka-Seltzer Plus to turn off the snot faucet so I can actually get a few things done. Who doesn't love a little fizzy medicine? (Though the "cherry burst" aspect is highly debatable.)

Then, I read. And read. I'm One of Those people who reads dosage directions (I also read my owner's manual while I'm waiting in line at the car wash--go ahead and mock. I'm used to it).

Then I got to this.

Do not use to sedate children.

Well shit. There go my plans for the night. WTF? I worry for the future.

I noticed that that same warning does NOT appear on the bottle of tequila I have in my kitchen.

Interesting.

And with that, I moved on, had some fizzy medicine and a shot of tequila, and it was nothin' but good times at my house.

Awwwww yeah!

(I'm aware that this post is weird and... maybe not so great. Fuck it. I blame the cold medicine. That shit could sedate a child.)

Devil in a green box

Go ahead and taunt me, you minty little vixens. I hear your chocolate-covered siren call all the way from the kitchen cupboard.

Sigh. It's Girl Scout Cookie Season (which sounds a lot like Duck Season... and, really, it might be better for my ever-widening ass if I actually had to go into the wilderness, chase these suckers down, and shoot them, but nooooooooo. They're readily available for little or no effort on my part at all).

I could just not buy any, but you can't look at those adorable little Girl Scouts and say no (this is another one of my clever excuses). I'd have a much easier time avoiding Thin Mints if, say... registered sex offenders sold them. I could totally say no to Registered Sex Offender Cookies. Wouldn't even answer the door for those a-holes.

My biggest problem with Thin Mints (other than buying a huge and ready supply every. damn. year.) is portion control.

Because they're the cookie equivalent of potato chips... or crack. 

Wanna know how many cookies are in a serving according to the side of the box? (Get ready for heartbreak.)

FOUR. Not a sleeve, like I previously believed.

Who can stop after FOUR measly Thin Mints? Impossible, I say!

So, knowing that I'm going waaaaaay over the serving amount, I start making little allowances like I can eat the whole sleeve if I'm having them instead of dinner. Who needs vegetables? All I need is a sleeve of Thin Mints and a glass of wine (you know, for my heart). 

Sigh.

But before you despair entirely, here's some good news!

Per "serving," there is one entire gram of protein!

And 4% of your daily allowance of Iron!

And zero Trans Fat!

Eat up! It turns out they're good for you!!!

Tis the season. Right?

This either says bad things about the book she's holding

Or good things about the comfort of the chair she's sacked out in.

This woman was in the land of nod for about an hour at my favorite independent bookstore, The Tattered Cover.

I don't know why this rates a post. I just think it's funny.

I could lie and say she was snoring, but she wasn't.

My three favorite signs

From the stock show.

This first one was next to an enormous, beautiful Texas Longhorn. Folks could pose next to him (or ON him, even) for pictures. I was tempted, but after I found out that it's nobody's fault but my own if the bull kills me, I backed off.

If you want to get back at the bull community, however, you could always snack on a platter of these.

Read closely. That's not tenderLOIN they're talkin' about.

Last but not least, we finally have Whiz-Proof technology on our side!

Confirmed

Cats are the best sick-day companions. Ever.

Stock show... *ahem* fashion

I went to the National Western Stock Show with my folks yesterday.

We saw lots of beautiful animals; I fed a yak!

The more interesting creatures, however, were our fellow stock show attendees.

The women fell into three categories. Women who have plainly given up, normal women, and the sparklers.

There are special stock show fashions available from any number of vendors. These items have three things in common: a bajillion rhinestones, huge gothic crosses, and insane price tags.

Mom and I could have played a version of slugbug with these crosses, but we'd have beaten the shit out of each other inside of ten minutes. No fun there.

I can't tell you how many times we saw the sparkly trinity: crosses on the ass, on the belt, and around the neck.

It was like watching a faith-based glitter contest.

BLING-A-DING-DING!! I LOVE JESUS MORE THAN YOU DO!

Alas, we left the merchandise area empty-handed.

And I think Jesus was ok with that. ;)

Please oh please oh please

Let this become a trend.

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2012/01/18/ban-pajamas_n_1212542.html?utm_campaign=011812&utm_medium=email&utm_source=Alert-style&utm_content=FullStory

DOWN WITH PAJAMAS IN PUBLIC!!!

I don't begrudge anybody happiness

But really, the braggy facebook posts have got to stop.

Am I the only one who has an issue with this? 

Because, in the context of facebook, these posts rank right up there in annoyance with those holiday Lexus With a Bow commercials.

Nobody's life is that perfect all of the time.

I'm happy when good things happen to folks. But your whole life cannot possibly be all sunshine, roses, vacations, and ice-cream cones.

Nobody's is.

And that's great! That's life! Flaws are what make things truly beautiful! 

It's ok to be human and show it once in awhile.

Really. :)

Abomination!

REALLY? Lace-up Crocs for the fellas?

Will folks be so fooled by the laces that they'll fail to see the horrific ladybug holes and super-sexy Donald Duck silhouette?

Puh-leeeeeze.

Of course, the ladies have something ugly they can buy too.

Check these out.

Three-inch, two-tone platform "flats". Fugly way to break an ankle.

Uglier yet? The price tag.

As sane and delightful as I'm sure he is...

I don't think I'll be consulting James B. Nutter for mortgage advice any time soon. :)

yeahyeahyeah

While they're adorable in The Beatles' "She Loves You (yeah yeah yeah)", those three little words have gotten under my skin lately.

You see, I've spent a lot of time explaining things to a Millennial.

And Millennials already know everything.

So you can see how exasperating this situation might be for the two of us.

But the worst part is that in the midst of my explanation, I repeatedly get interrupted with YEAHYEAHYEAH (all one word), which I take to mean, I get it, move on, old woman.

Only he doesn't get it, which is why I'm forced to explain it. Again and again.

It's driving me fucking nuts.

Next time I get YEAHYEAHYEAH, I'm stopping and starting over, because it means he's not listening. And I'll start over as many times as it takes for me to be able to finish.

In other words, we'll be at it all day.

Oh yeahyeahyeah!

Driving in the snow

Hey guy who creates a lane where there isn't a lane!

Way to suck!

Annual pickup line

You can use this. But you'll probably have to wait until next year (provided it all doesn't end for us on 12/21/12).

At any point after midnight on New Year's Day, turn to the one you love, look deep into their eyes, sigh, and exclaim I haven't had sex all year.

I'm not saying I've used this, but I MIGHT have heard it once or twice.

If nothing else, you'll get a good laugh from it. :)

Dear creepy guy

Having worked with you for years, I know this is hardly out of character for you.

But it was still skeevy when you wished my boobs a happy new year last week.

The 2011 Grandma Christmas story

It was a lovely Christmas.

Everybody was happy and generous and we all got along.

And my grandparents grow ever fonder of Beau (and, really, how could they not?). On Christmas day, Grandma brought pears for everybody, including "one for the boy."

Grandpa is a tougher nut to crack. He's rather shy and he doesn't open up to new folks (even though Beau isn't new at this point, Grandpa is on a different timeline).

This year, Grandpa opened up and started telling stories. And Grandpa's stories are usually about one thing: WWII. But his stories are GREAT. He met General Doolittle and he served with a member of the Kennedy Clan (not one of the more recognizable names, but still) and he served out in the jungle, where gurkhas guarded the camps at night. Tons of great, great stories.

And I'm glad that Beau got to hear them.

Grandma, who's heard them all a million times, was a little less enthused, because he doesn't tell any stories that include her.

When Grandpa finished his story, Grandma uttered one classic phrase (which ranks up there with Grandmas don't wear fuzzy socks, so let's just forget it!):

AND THEN HE MARRIED ME AND NOTHING EVER HAPPENED AGAIN, THE END.

Thanks for another gem, Grandma. It's just not Christmas without them. :)

Depressing scene

It's always nice to see a healthy selection of bikinis when you're lugging around a few extra holiday pounds.

Damn you, Target.

This won't help you lose holiday weight...

But it will make you look thinner.

Straighten up your posture. It really does at least give the illusion that you've lost a few.

Stand in front of the mirror and try it. You'll surprise yourself. 

I like to practice my straight posture while eating cookies over the sink.

Antique mall, I love you

On NYE afternoon, Beau and I went to a huge antique mall on my side of town.

It was a bonanza of good finds.

I went home with a ceramic kitty cat that looks awesome in my bathroom.

Beau took home Gumby AND his jeep.

And then there were the dolls. The deliciously creepy, creepy dolls!

They say eyes are the windows to the soul...

Mona Lisa smiled like this... before she ate DaVinci's still-beating heart.

Look into my eyes... you WILL buy me that flapper dress.

Open up and say AHHHHHHH!

I ate Toto with some fava beans and a nice chianti.

These freckles are the last thing you'll see before YOU DIE.

The Great Pumpkin Massacre.

I loved my mommy to death.

BOOOOOOOOO!

The world's most disgruntled elf.

BRAAAAAAAAIIIINNNNNS!

Stay classy, Nike

Sigh.