Zickle Me Pink

The color of passion! The color of excitement! The color of sex!

2012-02-14T08:00:00.000-07:00

Beige.

Ooooooh yeah.

On my way to meet a friend for lunch in my (ahem, cherry red) Honda, I noticed how many beige cars there are on the road these days.

Most of the cars out there now are black, silver, and white (there have been studies done that have concluded that these non-colors are popular during economic downturns).

Ok, I get that. But beige?

People put beige carpet in their homes because it doesn't clash with anything and it's good at hiding dirt.

But don't you want more out of your car?

You're in the dealership lot. You've picked out what you want. Heated seats! iPod compatibility! 200 horsepower! Amazing gas mileage!

And... beige?

That's the equivalent of soda crackers and tea for dinner. Every night. For the next seven years.

Who are you people???

Ridiculous, unnecessary product #3,154

2012-02-13T09:20:00.000-07:00

I love kitchen gadgets. I truly do. But this one is more than a little ridic.

Does the modern kitchen really need a spring-action banana slicer??

Last time I checked, a knife did the job just fine.

Caution: Children in the office

2012-02-10T08:00:00.000-07:00

Not even the cute, short, young variety.

Yesterday I had a little email spat with a coworker (he used to have a pretty good sense of humor, so I tried to be lighthearted about something. He came back with a hail of fire and brimstone. So much for lighthearted humor).

Today, he stopped by my department (something he hasn't done in over a year; just ask him) and said hello to one of my coworkers. She said hello back.

And then he responded to her (loudly, pointedly) I SAY HELLO TO YOU BECAUSE YOU'RE NICE.

Really?

Is my desk actually a sneaky time machine that's deposited me back in the 7th grade? Do I hear WHAM! on the radio?

I ignored it.

Then my coworker and I passed him again in the hallway, where we (and everyone within earshot) heard this:

OH LOOK! IT'S THE NICE ONE AND THE RUDE ONE!

Sigh. Is this what office politics has come to?

I wonder why he doesn't have a girlfriend.

Some things are destined to remain a mystery, I guess.

Two more examples of my tragic unhipness

2012-02-09T08:00:00.000-07:00

I would never wear something called Gorilla Snot in my hair. Not even in some sort of alarming zoo incident.

Extreme Hold indeed.

And, having lived through this trend in the 80s, you won't see me sporting any of this nonsense either. The photo doesn't really capture the.... nuclearness/nuclearosity of these colors. They're dayglo, every last one. I could still see them when I closed my eyes to blink. Granted, I like these colors mixed in with other, more muted shades, but I won't be strutting around with a nuclear sunset bag on my arm any time soon.

I'm old, old, old. :)

Thanks for the reminder, Target.

Today's WTF Target item

2012-02-08T08:00:00.000-07:00

I'd say something pithy, but the product speaks for itself.

Wrong, wrong, wrong.

I could have a nice little side business

2012-02-07T08:00:00.000-07:00

A friend of mine on facebook posted a photo of an unfortunate tattoo (not his own, thank God).

In super-fancy script, it said:

REGRET

NOHING

Perhaps his only regret is failing to run spell check first.

And then I realized I could totally make money off of these poor, ignorant souls.

I could freelance in tattoo parlors by proofreading tattoos BEFORE they're tattoos!

I could save Bulls fans from tattooing CHIAGO on their necks.

No gang member would ever walk around with CRIPES inked onto his skin again.

And nobody would ever have to suffer forever with YOU BLEED JUST TO KNOW YOUR ALIVE again. (Why are your/you're and there/their/they're such stumbling blocks? It's. Not. That. Hard, Folks.)

And if anybody ever walked in wondering how to spell TEBOW for a tattoo, well, I could point that individual to the back room where someone could beat some sense into him.

Aw yeah. It's gonna be a fat payday for me!

I know they foster a hippie vibe...

2012-02-06T08:00:00.000-07:00

But I question the necessity of nipples on the T-shirt mannequin at Whole Foods.

Once upon a time at a Super Bowl party...

2012-02-03T08:00:00.000-07:00

I sat behind a woman who had an adorable newborn baby. He was very sweet, and his mother was utterly besotted (as all mothers should be).

And she loved-him loved-him.

Through four quarters and a gajillion commercials, this woman cooed, cuddled, hugged, and kissed the little guy.

And then she just couldn't help herself any longer.

She licked the baby.

(I'll give you a moment to let that sink in.)

Not just once. She did it a few times.

I've seen cats do this, but the human equivalent was simply mind-blowing. I elbowed Beau because I needed someone to share the insanity with, but he didn't see it (there was a game on, so I give him a pass).

True story, my hand to God.

This turn of events lead me to coin the awesome phrase: It's just not a Super Bowl party without a babylicker!™

I still wonder about that woman.

And that child.

[shudder]

Not so fast, Princess

2012-02-02T08:00:00.000-07:00

Bullshit political bumper stickers aside, nothing has made me want to ram into another vehicle more than this.

And before you come to this girl's defense, she does NOT have a child (no baby seat), and she had a Class of '13 tassel hanging from her rear-view mirror.

It's irritating enough that we push the Princess Theory on little girls (don't get me started). The fact that some of them hold on to it long after childhood gives me the shivers.

I weep for the future.

Outta my way, princess. There's a grownup comin' through.

Here's to your health

2012-02-01T08:00:00.000-07:00

I've taken it upon myself, dear reader, to show you the path to health and wellness.

Today's lesson: Calci-Yum!

Worried about those frail old bones of yours? Have no fear....

COOKIES ARE HERE!

And for those of you who don't like to read the healthy fine print, let me enlarge it for you.

One jug of these and you'll be good as new!

I'm here to help, folks.

Every family has a couple of these. Right?

2012-01-31T08:00:00.000-07:00

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

2012-01-30T08:00:00.000-07:00

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

2012-01-29T16:05:00.001-07:00

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

2012-01-27T08:00:00.000-07:00

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

2012-01-26T08:00:00.000-07:00

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

2012-01-25T08:00:00.000-07:00

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

2012-01-24T10:08:00.003-07:00

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

2012-01-23T14:06:00.001-07:00

Cats are the best sick-day companions. Ever.

Stock show... ahem fashion

2012-01-19T23:58:00.001-07:00

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

2012-01-19T08:00:00.000-07:00

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

2012-01-18T08:00:00.000-07:00

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!

2012-01-17T09:43:00.000-07:00

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...

2012-01-13T20:03:00.001-07:00

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

yeahyeahyeah

2012-01-13T08:00:00.000-07:00

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

2012-01-12T08:00:00.000-07:00

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

Way to suck!

Annual pickup line

2012-01-11T08:00:00.000-07:00

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

2012-01-10T08:00:00.000-07:00

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

2012-01-09T08:00:00.000-07:00

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

2012-01-06T08:00:00.000-07:00

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...

2012-01-05T08:00:00.000-07:00

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

2012-01-04T08:00:00.000-07:00

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

2012-01-02T12:31:00.001-07:00

Sigh.

Open mouth, insert foot

2011-12-30T21:27:00.001-07:00

I preface this story by saying I didn't do anything wrong, really. I was asked a question, and I answered it. Honestly.

Sigh.

The fact that it's cringe-inducing is just gravy for you, dear reader.

Last week, Mom and I went into a number of antique shops in Old Littleton. We found some good stuff here and there.

While I was at the register in one store, I spotted a box of old photos. I like old photos that are a bit strange. I found one of two little boys. The way the photo was taken, their eyes were really dark, giving them an eerie, Children of the Corn vibe (I'm not including the photo in this post, and you'll know why soon enough).

The woman rang up my purchases, including the photo, and asked me what I do with old photos. I answered honestly: "I like to collect photos that are a little... off. And these little boys have crazy eyes."

[silence]

The woman straightened and said "Those boys are my grandsons."

shit.

There wasn't much more to do after that other than smile and walk out of the store.

So much for being honest with strangers.

Happy New Year, everybody!!

Dear neighbor

2011-12-30T00:16:00.001-07:00

I don't know which neighbor you are, but your wifi handle, HORSELOVER, concerns me.

A lot.

I will openly mock you on the street

2011-12-29T13:05:00.001-07:00

If I see you wearing this.

It's an "M&M's Celebration" fleece jacket! A wearable work of art with your favorite characters in appliqué and embroidery.

And, for the opportunity of advertising for MARS, you get to pay $99.00 (+ $9.99 shipping and service).

I'd buy mine now, but I'm waiting for the NASCAR version.

Day-after-Christmas chuckle

2011-12-27T12:26:00.001-07:00

A hearty thanks to the department-store sales girl who pulled me aside and offered me $40 to be nasty to a customer who'd been giving her a hard time because "a customer can't get fired for being rude to another customer."

You made my day.

If Mom hadn't been with me, I might have taken you up on it.

Green

2011-12-27T12:13:00.001-07:00

Three green things in my house that make me happy.

The succulents in my kitchen window.

Green wreath cookies made of corn flakes, marshmallows, and green food coloring that only Mom and I like.

Lola'a big green eyes.

Some resolutions I'd like to see others make in 2012

2011-12-23T08:00:00.000-07:00

This might be my last post of the year (unless I get a bee in my bonnet about something next week--and that NEVER happens).

And while I'll make my own resolutions and keep them to myself (so that nobody can call me on it when I break them), I've got a list of resolutions that I'd like others to make.

Lazy bones: No more pajamas in public
Weirdos: If you've broken a world record for longest fingernails/toenails, cut that shit off and find another hobby
Fellas: pull up your pants and cinch your belts
Ladies: if you have a muffin top, go up a size; you'll look thinner as a result
Dog owners: pick up the poop
Republicans: resolve not to vote this election (heh, heh, heh)
People who use an apostrophe to denote pluralism rather than ownership: cut that shit out
Cell-phone chatterers: Hush. We don't need to hear about your yeast infection while we're trying to buy juice at Target
Grandma: try. new. restaurants.
Cats: stop puking on my belongings
MTV: Cancel Jersey Shore already
Drivers of rear-wheel-drive vehicles: stay home on snowy days
Everybody: resolve to laugh a bit more, forgive yourself more, and enjoy more about this sweet but short life

Happy holidays! See you in 2012 (barring unforeseen bees in bonnets)!

Lawdy, I love stories like these

2011-12-22T08:00:00.000-07:00

My friend Erin told me this gem today.

Her dad went to the grocery store on a search for pasteurized eggs. He looked everywhere, to no avail. Finally, he asked an employee if the store carried them.

Of course we do, replied the employee.

Erin's dad, tired of searching, asked the employee to come with him and point out the pasteurized eggs.

The employee led him to the egg aisle and proudly pointed out all of the free-range eggs.

See, the employee said. These are all pastureized.

The poor boy thought pasteurized meant that the bird walked around in a pasture before laying the eggs.

Sigh...

By all means, America, let's cut education spending. Our kids are thmart enough!

Annoying verbal phenomenon

2011-12-21T08:00:00.000-07:00

I've noticed lately? That a lot of women use this weird inflection?

And every sentence/phrase they utter? Sounds like a question?

Whether it is or not?

It drives me up a f*&king wall!

What IS that?

It makes grown-ass women sound like four-year-olds.

Learn to speak like an adult!

Sweet fancy Moses!

2011-12-20T08:00:00.000-07:00

I'm taking part in an email chain letter recipe exchange type of thing where you send an easy recipe to the person on the top of your list and forward on to 20 or so friends, etc.

The crux of it is that the recipe must be simple enough for you to remember it (which, in turn, usually means that you've made it a bajillion times).

I've gotten a couple of good ones that look easy, yummy, and semi-healthy.

But this one simply blew my mind.

I think ice cream might be a healthier side dish. In fact, I KNOW ice cream would be healthier (mmmmm... ice cream as a side dish). Judge for yourself.

GRANDMA'S SWEET CREAM CORN

2 lb. frozen corn
1 stick butter
1/4 cup self rising flour
1/4 cup sugar
1 carton whipping cream
salt and pepper to taste.

Cook corn and butter in a large pot, add flour, sugar, and whipping cream.
Cook until mixture becomes thick, stirring frequently. Milk can be added if corn becomes too thick.
Season with salt and pepper to taste, and enjoy!

If any of you try this, be sure you have someone with you who can dial 911 or shock you back to life with a defibrillator.

Good luck and good eatin'!

In all of the hurry and scurry of the season

2011-12-19T08:00:00.000-07:00

It's hard to take a moment to sit back and be thankful.

Especially when the woman in front of you in line is nasty to the store clerk because she can't understand her accent.

Or when the person ahead of you lets the door slam in your face rather than taking an extra second to hold the door open.

Or when you get the finger from a sweet little old lady during the morning commute because you stopped at the yellow rather than running the red.

Sigh. The Most Wonderful Time of the Year gets to all of us eventually.

But I AM thankful.

Thankful for

My wonderful family (even McGrandma), who sticks by me through everything, helps pick me back up and dust me off after a stumble, and somehow finds my personality flaws lovable
Beau, for being a good sport, giving me so many fun and funny things to write about, and for being my true blue partner in crime (even though I can't stop coughing, which annoys him to no end)
My wonderful friends who are all so funny, kind, and supportive. I'd be lucky to have just one of you in my life; I don't know what I did right to get all of you
My cats. I'm a lady who has cats, not a Cat Lady. But I do love coming home to two fat, furry lumps of love every night
My job. I'm happy just to have a job at a time like this. The fact that I work with amazing people and get to read for a living is gravy
My health. Ok, I'm not *technically* healthy right now, but I'm on the road to recovery (and it could be so much worse). When I'm healthy again, I'll be even more thankful
All of the little things that make each day worth it. Little gestures and chuckleworthy situations are what life is made of (they're what this blog is made of too)

And...

In an effort to be truly thankful, I'm also glad that some folks showed their true colors this year. The big bad wolf is much easier to see (and avoid) when he takes off the grandma disguise. Thanks for letting me know who--and what--you are

Last but not least, I'm thankful for every person who reads my silly blog. It makes me happy to know someone out there cares enough to read it.

I hope your holidays are, at some point at least, happy and relaxing.

And try to be patient with the bird-flipping old lady. Maybe someone slammed the door on her earlier in the day. :)

My immature, sad little pick-me-up

2011-12-16T08:00:00.000-07:00

This week has been... not all together great (for a number of reasons; one of which is that I'm still sick, and no doctor seems to be able to fix it--we're down to voodoo and guesswork at this point).

But there's one thing that never ceases to at least make me chuckle (and at most, make me laugh until I cry and nearly wet my pants).

It's the Diarrhea Song.

That horrible song from childhood that never, EVER ceases to amuse me.

When you're walking down the hall and you feel somethin' fall
Diarrhea, diarrhea.

When you're sittin' with your honey and you feel something runny
Diarrhea, diarrhea.

When you're slidin' into third and you feel a little turd
Diarrhea, diarrhea.

It's horrible, I know. It's juvenile, I know. And diarrhea can be DEADLY. I know, I know, I know.

But I can't stop myself.

It's funny.

I thought I might be the only one on earth this pathetic, and then I found this blog.

Luckily, there are folks far sicker than me.

And thank God for that!

Why copyediting is essential

2011-12-15T08:00:00.000-07:00

My friend Nick sent me this ad with a very special message. (Scroll down)

HOORAY FOR DISCUNTS!

Job security, folks! Job security.

Um...

2011-12-14T08:00:00.000-07:00

I went to Target to buy some Toys for some Tots. I bought two sparkly dolls and a Nerf gun (the big kids here in the office love them, so I figured little kids would too).

While I searched for appropriate toys, I came upon THIS.

It's a Swimming Ariel doll. If you... ahem... wind her up, she'll wiggle her tail and swim!

How to do you wind her up?

You turn her shell!

Awesome! Where's the shell? I want to turn it and make Ariel wiggle her tail and swim!

Why it's... it's... umm...

(I cannot be the only person who sees how twisted this is.)

He sees you when you're sleeping

2011-12-13T08:00:00.000-07:00

He knows when you're awake.
He knows if you've been bad or good.

He knows if you've been playing with Mommy's lipstick.

He knows when you've been smoking doobies.

HE KNOWS WHERE YOU LIVE!!!

RUN, CHILDREN! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!!!

If you own and use one of these

2011-12-12T08:00:00.000-07:00

I will pretend I don't know you on the street.

NOW IN PINK!

Worst. Fortune. Ever.

2011-12-09T08:00:00.000-07:00

Coming in at with a close second is the "fortune" my dad got.

Yeesh. Have a nice day!

Hallmark goes alternative

2011-12-08T08:00:00.000-07:00

Something's a little different at Hallmark this holiday season.

These ornaments look innocuous enough...

Until you find out what they really are.

And what goes better with Pierced Balls than a Pierced Snowman??

Deck them halls, y'all!!

Feel-good story of the year (of my year, at least)

2011-12-07T08:00:00.000-07:00

First, a little back story. My grandpa, Country Buffet aficionado, WWII hero, and husband to my McDonald's loving grandma, used to be a much-beloved head mechanic at Burt Chevrolet/Burt Toyota. He retired 25+ years ago, but the fellas he worked with still stop by and chat with him almost weekly.

Flash forward to last Thursday (his 91st birthday). Grandpa was out shoveling the front walk (what else would you do on your 91st birthday???) when a car pulled up in his driveway. A tall, broad man stepped out of the car and approached Grandpa.

Tall stranger: Hi, are you Don?

Grandpa: Yes I am.

Tall stranger: Do you know who I am?

Grandpa: No, not really.

Tall stranger: You're not a football fan, are you? I'm John Elway.

John Elway had recently acquired a number of dealerships, including the former Burt Chevrolet/Toyota dealerships. He hired a number of people who used to work for Burt. On a visit, the guys at the shop told Mr. Elway how wonderful it was to work with my grandpa and how nothing ever ran as smoothly after he left. In fact, they told him, Grandpa lived just around the corner.

And so Mr. Elway took it upon himself to drive to Grandpa's house, introduce himself, and have a nice chat.

That says so much to me about the character of both of the men in this story.

How wonderful would it be to have been so nice to work with that people are still talking about you 25+ years after you retire?

I love my grandpa.

And I have a whole new respect for John Elway.

WT&B holiday single!

2011-12-06T08:00:00.000-07:00

A long time ago, I wrote about how my friend Vonn and I started a band called White Thighs & Boobies.

Unfortunately, our busy-ass lives haven't allowed us much time in the studio. But today we were totally inspired to create a brand-new holiday single!

Vonn stopped by my office with this verdict: Wearing a Santa hat when you're already a huge douchebag doesn't make you any less of a douchebag.

So very, very true.

And so very inspiring.

Look for our holiday single, Douchebag in a Santa Hat, in stores and on iTunes!

You forget how young 21 really is until...

2011-12-05T08:00:00.000-07:00

My friend Lori is scheduled for a mammogram this month.

For those of you who have not experienced the joy and magic of the mammogram, let me enlighten you. They stick your boob between two metal plates and squish it until it's as flat as a pancake. Flatter than you EVER thought it could get. And then you hold that position for what seems like FOREVER while they take a photograph.

It's not comfortable. But it's very necessary. And it saves lives (get one, ladies).

When Lori mentioned her appointment to her 21-year-old coworker, the girl's eyes got wide and, in a very grave voice, she asked Do your boobs go back to their original shape after it's done???

Bless her heart.

I told Lori she needed to fuck with her and tell her that there are special bras you have to wear for the rest of your life after your first mammogram.

Alas, Lori is a nicer person than I am, and she wouldn't do it.

Sigh.

Woulda been funny.

More crap you don't need

2011-12-02T08:00:00.000-07:00

Holiday catalogs do not disappoint, my friends.

Popsicle Maker.
Psst! You already have one of these.
Hint: it's attached to your refrigerator.

Cotton Candy Maker.
Just how jacked up on sugar do you want your kids to be this season?

Emeril-Inspired Kitchen Towels.
Save your money and put it toward a douchebag forehead tattoo instead.


Skewer Station. Because "showcasing grilled meat and veggie skewers" on plates is sooooo 2010?

Snowball/Snow Block Maker Set.
If your kids are lazy/prissy enough to need this, they're in front of the TV
with no desire to play outside in the snow anyway.

And, last but not least...

These leopard-print PJs. Not because they're useless, mind you. But because they seem to pack a little more than flannel and an elastic waistband.

The adorable deviousness of the six-year-old mind

2011-12-01T08:00:00.000-07:00

My dear friend Lana Greck has a sweet, spunky six-year-old named Addy.

Today I got this message from Lana:

I was fixing Addy’s hair this morning and she asked if she could use my comb so she could text me. She says “Mom, you got a text from a girl named, um, Addy Greck. Do you know her? She says she loves you and she is your best friend.”

I said “Aw, that is nice.”

“Mom, you just got a text from Zickle! She says that she hopes an alligator eats you at work today! I guess you can’t be friends with HER anymore! Addy sure is a nicer friend, isn’t she?”

A little jealousy there, but I couldn’t stop laughing.

That's the cutest character assassination I've ever experienced.

PS: I'd be sad if an alligator ate Lana. VERY sad. :)

Crap you don't need

2011-11-30T08:00:00.000-07:00

I get a lot of holiday catalogs these days.

What makes me chuckle is the number of items in these catalogs that are completely stupid and unnecessary. (And usually pretty expensive for what you get.)

The most recent one came from the Macy's catalog.

It's a $100 (on sale--SAVE $40!) soda maker--I'm sorry, I mean SODASTREAM GENESIS.

How many liters of soda would you have to make with this thing to make it financially viable? Considering the fact that you also have to buy the soda syrups (also on sale!) at Macy's, my verdict is that you'd have to make more soda than you'd ever want to to make this thing worth it.

Also, I imagine that the fun would die after you made about six liters of soda. And then it would just be a job.

And who has the counter space for shit like this?

This is fun! I'll keep my eyes open for more Crap You Don't Need.

Stay tuned.

Dear Wallgreens Clinic Doctor/PA/RN

2011-11-29T08:00:00.000-07:00

The joke about following me home to be sure I followed your health instructions was kind of funny once.

By the fourth time you repeated it, it was downright creepy.

Yeesh.

I'm already sick of

2011-11-28T10:57:00.001-07:00

Those damn Lexus Christmas commercials.

An unsuspecting individual walks out the front door to discover a brand-new Lexus with a big red bow on it.

And everybody rejoices.

Give me a break.

The last thing that would make me happy on Christmas day is finding out that my significant other had just saddled us both with a $500-a-month lease without consulting me.

Bah-humbug.

The downside of eHarmony

2011-11-22T12:36:00.001-07:00

Beau and I have a friend who's trying to meet ladies on eHarmony.

We asked how it was going and he said he was pissed off that the site was only setting him up with old ladies.

I found this perplexing and asked a few questions.

Turns out, he's a young buck in the prime of his life... but women his own age are old ladies.

Sigh.

Sad and sweet

2011-11-18T09:00:00.000-07:00

I buy a lot of used books (better for the environment, better for my budget).

Most of the time, they're just normal, everyday books.

But every so often, there's a little gem. Something someone used as a bookmark, a note scribbled in the margin, or--my favorite--an inscription.

The book I'm reading now has an inscription that makes me smile and makes me sad and--above all--makes me wonder.

It's more of an apology than an inscription. Maybe Erik thought his dad would inevitably complain about the small print. Or maybe Erik is just very considerate and sincerely searched for a large-print version. Did Erik's dad request the book? What did Erik think his dad would like about it? Did he even like it (it did, after all, end up in a pile of used books). The signoff at the end is very sweet. What kind of relationship did they have?

And I wonder and wonder and wonder.

(And I'll continue to wonder until I'm done with the book--that's how dorky I am.)

The Highlands Ranch High School drama department

2011-11-17T09:00:00.000-07:00

Made a bold choice this fall.

Is it just me, or is this a little... deep for high school students?

Chicken-fried circle of hell

2011-11-16T09:00:00.000-07:00

I love my grandpa.

He's a WWII hero and truly a great man.

Dad called me on Veterans Day Eve to ask if I wanted to go to dinner with them and Grandma and Grandpa the next evening.

Me: Sure, where are we going?

[Insert theme music from Jaws]

Dad: It's your Grandpa's choice.

Me: Ok, so where?

[Music swells]

Dad: You know where.

Sigh. I did know. Too bad I'd already said yes...

As much as Grandma loves McDonald's, Grandpa loves the Old Country Buffet.

I loathe the Boo-Fay. First of all, the world OLD is already in the name, which gives you a clue about the clientele.

The nickname I've given the place will give you another hint: The Shovel. Why? Because people shovel massive amounts of food on their plates. And then they shovel it down their gullets. And then they repeat the transaction. This is a place with a lot of elastic waistbands lumbering around.

It's a frickin' cattle call in there. Everybody grazing around, elbowing people out of the way in an effort to get to flavorless, sub-par food. Starch-a-palooza. And NOBODY MOVES. They also let their kids run around like maniacs (because they've, of course, gone for dessert first, so they're all hyped up on sugar).

Lemme run down a list of just a few of the things I encountered on my night at The Shovel.

A woman in a rabbit-fur coat.
A soft taco that was so not soft that it CRACKED when I went to fold it in half. Yum. After that, I was too scared to try the hard tacos and ditched the Mexican food idea entirely.
A child, accompanied by his dad, no less, who had an entire plateful of French fries. No veggies. No protein. Just fries. Nutritious! (Meanwhile, after the Taco Incident, I decided to play it safe with a plate of vegetables. Grandma didn't think that was a good meal for me. How is a plate of vegetables a bad choice for a meal??? I give up.)
Actual RAGE that there was no pie available at the exact moment when one fella wanted it. Employees were in the process of going to get more pie, but it was too damn late!
And, my favorite.... I. Saw. ASSCRACK at the boo-fay.

Buh-bye appetite.

Like I said, I love my grandpa.

And now that you know what I'm willing to undergo on a Friday night for him, I think you know just how much I mean that.

Wedding crap

2011-11-15T09:00:00.000-07:00

I've mentioned before that I like to buy bridal magazines because I love pretty dresses and cake.

I subscribed to my favorite one because those things are expensive and because it's nicer to have them delivered right to my home (just like I do with all of my porn subscriptions).

One drawback to this subscription is that I've made my way onto a few mailing lists for other bridey stuff. Stuff I don't want, need, or care about.

Like the wedding crap catalog I got in the mail last week. It's filled with the tackiest wedding items I've ever seen (mostly, I guess, because I'm only invited to nice weddings).

If only I'd taken a few photos to post...

Oh wait! I did!

Nothin' says I'm in it for the long haul like a Wedding Ring Shot Glass.
Only $5 per dozen!

Honestly, if you could convince your fiance to wear this (it's TOP RATED),
how could you respect him enough to marry him?

Same goes for these douchey wedding-party socks. If they don't know
who they are, how are these socks going to help?

A classy way for your guests to keep their canned beverages cold
at your wedding.

An even classier (and inflatable!) way to make those beverages cold.
(I spy screw-top wine!)

Screw-top wine, beer koozies, and inflatable beer tubs
are the perfect recipe for a weddin' rave!

If a rave ain't your thing, take the sophisticated route with these lovely
rose candles. Fire hazzard, schmire hazzard.


And don't forget to give your guests the gift that keeps on giving when they leave: LOTTO TICKETS!

NOW THAT'S CLASS!!!

No-buy November

2011-11-14T09:00:00.000-07:00

If you read this blog last November (and you're still here now, you're amazing for hanging in with me), you might remember that November is my no-buy month.

I don't buy anything for myself. I can buy food, experiences, gifts for others, and household necessities, but no books, no earrings, no music, etc.

It saves me a little money and it gives me perspective on want vs. need.

And if I trip up/cheat, I have to report it.

I'm halfway in, and I've done really well.

But I did mess up on the first of the month. I forgot that iPhone apps are personal purchases.

But I'm making up for it. I'm buying 10 ducks for impoverished families around the world through World Vision.

Most of us have it pretty good in this country. Food, shelter, clean drinking water, a warm place to sleep. Why not reach out to those in need?

I also highly recommend donating to your local food bank.

Nothing you spend money on for yourself feels as good as the money you spend to help someone else.

Because an empty mailbox is too ambiguous

2011-11-11T09:00:00.000-07:00

On Saturday afternoon, I opened the mail box to find a slip inside.

Oh boy! A package! (Of course, I thought it was a little weird that my mail carrier didn't bring the package to the door; I'd been home all day.)

Then I got a better look at the slip.

Really?

Do my Cooking Light and Vogue subscriptions make me look like a simpleton to the point of not understanding whether or not I actually had mail on Saturday?

Weird.

(PS, Dad found the silver lining with this little gem: Maybe your mail carrier is stalking you and this is kind of a love note. Thanks, Dad.)

We're such a cute couple

2011-11-10T09:00:00.000-07:00

Ridiculous childhood comeback recalled

2011-11-09T09:00:00.000-07:00

Back in the *ahem* 80s, when someone stuck their tongue out at you, the appropriate response was:

I don't french long-distance!

Oh yeah. We were a classy lot.

No more tears

2011-11-08T09:00:00.000-07:00

I hate chopping onions (actually, I'm not a huge fan of onions, period, but sometimes they're a necessary evil in the kitchen). Burning eyes, mascara running down my face--it's unpretty.

I've tried many different methods to avoid the onion meltdown.

Wraparound glasses.
Slap Chop (oh yes, I own one, mofos).
Holding a piece of bread in my mouth while I chop (soggy and gross).

On and on.

I heard that if you burn a match beforehand, it helps (and it does, but if you're slow and clumsy with a knife like I am, you need to burn multiple matches--and if you're clumsy, the combination of fire and knives isn't good anyway).

Then I heard about holding a matchstick (unlit--let's keep those eyebrows intact) between your teeth as you chop.

Holy shit! It worked! It's CHEAP!

Shout it from the rooftops!

(I only tried it once, but once is a victory in my book)

Coat #1

2011-11-07T09:00:00.000-07:00

You can blame my friend Q for this one. She told me I should do semi-regular posts about my (embarrassingly large) coat collection. I tried this for my shoes, but I didn't really get anywhere with it.

Why not? Coats are half the reason to live in Colorado. The other half is because we're all so damn good lookin'! :)

Here's coat #1.
Faux-fur swing coat.
For those who don't know, Swing Coat is code for Makes Me Look Fatter Than I Am, But I Don't Care. It's buff color (see picture 2), has fluffy ruffles, and--best of all--it's the softest thing you've ever touched in your life. The most pettable item of clothing I own.

Mom bought it for me for Christmas and I was so excited that I put it on when Beau and I went for a pre-dinner walk (even though it was close to 70 degrees outside and I was already wearing a festive sweater and a Santa Claus scarf--Beau was soooo proud to be seen with me that day, let me tell you).

It's awesome and I love it.

More coats to come (whether you like it or not).

Worst cover story ever

2011-11-04T09:00:00.000-06:00

Years ago, my friend Jess sent me a voicemail she'd received from a coworker that day.

The first half was business as usual, then Jess's coworker hung up.

At least she thought she'd hung up.

While voicemail was still recording, she started griping about Jess to someone in her office, ending the tirade by calling Jess bitchwhore.

And THEN she realized she hadn't hung up.

Oops. Charming.

All was silent for about a half hour (presumably the time it took to cook up this brilliant cover story).

Jess sent me voicemail number two:

Hi, Jess, it's [insert bashful coworker name here]. Um, you may have heard something at the end of that last voicemail I left for you that you might take the wrong way. But you really shouldn't. Here in the office, my friends and I call each other bitchwhore all the time. It's a total term of endearment. I certainly didn't mean it in a mean way or anything. Ok, have a nice day. Bye!

Really? A term of endearment?

If that's the case, then I hope y'all have a great day, bitchwhores!!!

If you've festooned your vehicle with rubber testicles...

2011-11-03T09:00:00.000-06:00

Chances are, you've put this shit all over it too.

The ever-classy bullet-hole decal.

This sends the message that not only do you want people to think you're an asshole, you want them to think that someone else thought you were enough of an asshole to shoot at you.

Only they didn't.

You just have fantasies about being an asshole. Or a drug dealer (same difference).

And that's just sad.

My new catchphrase

2011-11-02T09:00:00.000-06:00

I overheard a weird little exchange last week on the day of the snowstorm (BLIZZAKS!).

Man: So, you enjoying the snow?

Woman: I'm ok with it.

Man: Are you enjoying the snow?

Woman: Yeah, but I'd rather be enjoying it, you know, from my bed.

I don't know if she was being intentionally sexual or not (though I have a theory), but that's immediately how it sounded to my ears.

And it's totally my new catchphrase!

This mac and cheese is good, but I'd rather be enjoying it, you know, from my bed.

This cooking class is nice, but I'd rather be enjoying it, you know, from my bed.

The Oxford English Dictionary is useful, but I'd rather be enjoying it, you know, from my bed.

I've officially cracked myself up.

A new fun word to say

2011-11-01T09:00:00.000-06:00

The night before a snowstorm last week, I decided Hey, driving in the snow on bald tires might be a road hazzard.

So, I waited four hours for new tires (everybody else came to the same decision on the same day, it seems).

But the best part is the name of the tires: BLIZZAK!

And if you buy more than one, you get to say BLIZZAKS!

BLIZZAKS! BLIZZAKS! BLIZZAKS!

(my life is full of small--tiny--pleasures)

Who has a nice boyfriend?

2011-10-31T11:51:00.001-06:00

I DO! I DO!

Guess who went to the thrift store and picked up an Ernie cookie jar and creepy-ass antique cross-dressing photograph for me yesterday?

BEAU DID! BEAU DID!

Yay! Yay! Yay!

Scary movie

2011-10-31T09:00:00.000-06:00

As I mentioned last week, Beau has become quite the cinematographer.

This is the scariest movie he's made yet.

The title is AT THE DOCTOR'S OFFICE.

Judge for yourself.

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

Fun new excuse to skip work (seasonal)

2011-10-28T09:00:00.000-06:00

Don't know who it is; don't care. The excuse is awesome in its silly, ridiculous bullshittyness.

Someone called in the day of the office Halloween party to say they wouldn't be in because they're allergic to pumpkins.

Gotta write that one down and use it next year!

Scary pumpkin muffins

2011-10-27T09:00:00.000-06:00

Really, they're only scary because they're so easy to make (and even easier to eat).

One box spice cake mix.
One 15-oz. can pumpkin puree.

Mix together (batter will be thick, but you don't need to add anything, I promise), put in paper muffin cups, pop into a preheated 350-degree oven, and bake for 20-25 minutes.

Ta-dah!

I've made 'em twice and gotten nothing but raves.

They're coming to get you, Barbara...

2011-10-26T09:00:00.000-06:00

On Saturday evening Beau and I and my folks went on a graveyard tour. Riverside Cemetery dates back to 1876, and is home to some really beautiful memorials (if that's what you're into, which I totally am). 67,000 folks rest there (it's next to the train tracks, which must interrupt even eternal slumber, but I digress).

I got some great photos and Beau went all cinematographer on our asses.

No story behind this one. I just thought it was really beautiful.

Headstone of a French prostitute who was brutally murdered downtown.
They never caught her killer.
(The headstone is so lovely because she came from money in France.)

Don't know the story behind this one either. But someone really loved their dog.
And that kind of devotion is nice. And it's a lovely stone.

During the tour, Beau kept wandering off his own. I found out later that he was using a fancy app on his phone to make movies. He shot zombie movies from the point of view of the zombie. The soundtrack is all him (no wonder he wandered off by himself--he was breathin' pretty heavily).

I brake for old ladies

2011-10-25T09:00:00.000-06:00

And that's mostly because I hope to be one someday, and a little extra karma in the bank never hurt anybody.

I also love old-lady names. I have some great ones in my family: Elsie (you might know her better as Ronald McDonald's #1 reason for a restraining order), Edith, Lela, and Melba.

I know there are other great old-lady names out there, so I asked folks on facebook. I got some GEMS!

I'm naming a future pet Mildred to be sure (see, I'm workin' on my old-lady ways already!).

Myrtle
Trudy
Matilda
Opal
Geraldine
Maxine
Irene
Norma
Gertrude
Lena Juanita (love Texas old-lady names)
Tessie Elnora (Texas again)
Merline
Eunice
Doris
Peggy
Mildred
Irene
Inez
Corrine
Bisnette (pronounced Bisnay, which ROCKS)
Agnes
Zulu (my Dad's aunt)
Virginia
Leota
Thelma
Velma
Maxine
Pauline
Ima (who came way before Kanye's Ima Letchoo Finish)
Velma
Fidela
Gertie
Lizza-Lou (awesome)
Juanita
Berthie
Leona
Fern
Shirley
Vesta
Mabel
Flossy
Hortense (bless her heart, you know that one was a burden even back in the day)
Claudia
Lorraine
Charity
Demarius
Revella
Lola (I already have a cat named Lola)
Eula and Beula (who were sisters)
Nettie Jean
Lena
Ethel
Wilma
Ruth
Elise
Agnes
Bernice (pronounced Ber-niss)
Elda

That's one amazing list.

My friend Jen made a very good point, saying that in 100 years, someone will compile a list just like this. Only the names will include Jennifer, Nicole, Lindsay, Britney, and the like.

Swell point. And in those distant days, I'm sure Great-Grandma Tiffany will marvel at whippersnapper names like Ethel, Beula, and Gert.

You're probably tired of thrift-store junk posts

2011-10-24T09:00:00.000-06:00

Too bad. I'm not. :)

I found two totally rad things and one sad thing.

First, I found this KICK-ASS Ernie cookie jar. I'm still kicking myself for not getting it.

Of course, there's probably a good chance it's still there. The eyes are a little spooky, but I like that. I also like how this photo makes him look like he's praying for someone in the shadows.

Then I found this totally awesome disguise.

You can't see it, but the Styrofoam head is NOT FOR SALE. So don't ask. Just don't.

And then I ran across a bin of old pictures. These always make me a little sad, because those pictures used to mean something to someone. And now they're novelties in a bin.

But anyway, I found this one, and only one caption fits it.

Mother was a... handsome woman.

Look closely. "Mom" looks a hell of a lot like Father Mulcahy from M*A*S*H. I also question the gloves. What's she hiding under there? Maybe this is a Mrs. Bates Psycho situation.

I kind of wish I'd bought this one too.

I need to go back to that store.

Mom's cookbook + my immaturity = fun!

2011-10-21T09:00:00.000-06:00

Last Sunday, Mom and Dad had me over for spaghetti (I don't know what it is, but spaghetti always tastes better when your mom makes it).

While she cooked, she handed me a new cookbook my uncle had sent her. She told me to mark the recipes I thought sounded good, which I did (because I'm a good daughter).

As I flipped through the book, the nine-year-old humorist in my head took over, and I snickered at some of the more questionable recipe titles.

Yep, I make Mom prouder every day.

Better than Naughty Nuts, I suppose.

Hey, if you've got 'em, why not make 'em festive?

I'm sure you've heard about this on TMZ.com already.

One thing DOES lead to another next to a roaring fire.

Ew. Just ew. :)

The most horrifying thrift-store find to date

2011-10-20T09:00:00.000-06:00

I'm posting this picture first to see if you could figure out what it is.

Any guesses?

No?

Hold on to your lunch.

It's a SUPER KEGEL!

And in case you're unsure about how to use one, they show you right on the box (so to speak)!

True story

2011-10-19T09:00:00.000-06:00

I went to the doctor for a skin allergy (nuthin' but glamour in my world), and she told me this story.

She said that sometimes syphilis can present itself as a skin rash (I don't have syphilis; this is just how she got into the story).

She said an elderly female patient came in complaining of a skin rash she simply could not get rid of. They did some blood work, and a few days later the lab tech called and said Do you want to call her with the news, or should I? She has syphilis.

My doctor said she'd break the news.

She called her, told her she had syphilis, and said they'd get her on a course of treatment ASAP.

The woman's response?

I cannot WAIT to tell my bridge club that I have syphilis! They're gonna think I'm sooooo RACY!

Bless her heart!

Let's go to prison!

2011-10-18T09:00:00.000-06:00

In high school, my class took a trip to a women's prison in Oklahoma City.

I have a hard time remembering why, but I think it was for a sociology class.

We all boarded the school bus and prepared for a special day.

All of us went on the tour and then assembled in the prison gym for a Q & A session with three of the inmates.

They sat there and patiently answered all of our questions.

And then we heard a craggy male voice speak up and ask:

There a lot of rape between you gals in here?

40 heads swiveled around to find the source of such a gawd-awful question.

The bus driver, who--I'm pretty sure--was supposed to have stayed on the bus and waited for us, tagged along on the tour.

And he'd apparently watched Caged Heat far too many times.

Gross.

Going to the DMV

2011-10-17T09:00:00.000-06:00

To get my license.

What should I wear, what should I wear, what should I wear?

I know! I'll wear my SHUT UP AND DRINK YOUR BEER! T-shirt!

Genius!

Only at a chain restaurant with "Texas" in the name

2011-10-14T09:00:00.000-06:00

Can you order the vegetable plate, request a baked sweet potato, and get the following question:

Do you want that with all the fixings: caramel sauce and marshmallows?

Whuck?

It's a potato, not a frickin' ice cream sundae.

I told our waiter no thanks and, instead, received my potato with butter and a little brown sugar (which I still found ridiculous--but I'll fully admit that it was delicious).

The problem with long necklaces

2011-10-13T09:00:00.000-06:00

Eventually, the necklace will hook around one boob, making it look like you're... lassoing yourself. And it'll stay that way all day until you fix it.

Who has the energy for that kind of vigilance?

Let's play! (I will destroy your soul)

2011-10-12T09:00:00.000-06:00

At the antique mall, Beau and I found more than Mrs. Roper's castoffs.

We found the stuff of nightmares.

WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING AT???

I USE BABY TARZAN'S EYES TO SEE INTO YOUR FLAWED SOUL!

I AM SUCKING YOUR WILL TO LIVE!

I DON'T HAVE IRISES OR REAL HAIR. I WILL EAT YOURS!!!

I'm not so scary, BUT THAT THING BEHIND YOU IS!

BEFORE I GOT HERE, MY OLD OWNER KEPT STRINGING ME ALONG.

I CAN'T I FEEL MY ARMS AND LEGS!

COME TAKE A NAP WITH ME... FOREVER!

MY LAST OWNER PUT MY HEAD IN A VICE. SHE'S DEAD NOW.

HAVE YOU SEEN MY HAIR? OR MY UPPER JAW?

I HAVE EATEN YOUR SOUL, MORTAL. MU-HU-AH-HA-HA!!

Mrs. Roper must be freezing

2011-10-11T09:00:00.000-06:00

Someone stole all of her clothes!

Beau and I went to the antique mall over the weekend and ran across these stunners!

I'll bet she felt like a petite butterfly in this one!

I can admit it; I heart this one.

I can't believe Mr. Roper never felt compelled to hit it when she wore this marabou number!

The dumbest question ever uttered at a 3 Margaritas

2011-10-10T09:00:00.000-06:00

Do you guys have margaritas in here?

Beau as my witness, this man asked the question with no trace of humor or irony.

He honestly just wasn't quite sure if a place called 3 MARGARITAS would serve margaritas or not.

More Target fun

2011-10-07T09:00:00.000-06:00

I don't know if you've figured it out by now, but there's a Target right across the street from my office.

I spend a lot of my time and money there.

And every time I go over there, something makes me chuckle.

This time, it's packaging.

I ran across this box of SUPER tampons and had to look twice. Because, upon first glance, I thought Holy shit! That's the biggest tampon I've ever seen!

On second glance I realized Oh, that's the PURSE into which the much smaller (I hope) tampon goes.

Next, I noticed this on the yummy Turkey Provolone sammich I bought.

The sammich itself was super yummy. It's the word USE on the packaging that gives me pause.

But I used it. I used it all up!

Funny memory

2011-10-06T09:00:00.000-06:00

One of my friends is about to move into a new apartment. I suggested the moving company I'd used twice in the past. They did a fine job for a decent price. And nothing got busted or stolen.

She stopped by today and told me that her grandmother is up in arms over hiring a moving company because they'll know she lives alone, they'll know what kind of stuff she owns, and they'll show up the day after she moves in and rape her and kill her and steal all of her stuff.

Because that's what grandmas do. They live to stir the shit.

Suddenly, I flashed back to the first time I used the moving company. My mom showed up to help me supervise and clean once the apartment was clear of furniture.

Oh, and to bring donuts, because my mom is the best. mom. ever.

When the movers were on a run down to the truck with a load of my belongings, mom motioned me over to the counter and, with a sideways glance, told me We're covered.

I looked at her and told her I had no idea what that meant.

Then she whipped a pistol out of her purse and waved it around with a satisfied smile.

WTF are you doing? Put that away before someone sees it! I told her.

She did, but she was definitely ready for any... funny business.

And that was the day I learned I had a pistol-packin' mama.

I love this T-shirt

2011-10-05T09:00:00.000-06:00

As any rational person, place, or thing would!

The last time I wore it out in public, I was with Mom, buying plants at a nursery. The problem with message T-shirts is that they invite retort from strangers, which is what exactly what happened as we perused geraniums and petunias. A woman bounded up to me and, with a smirk, said:

Well hi! I'm an adjective!

[crickets]

As we walked away from her--just barely out of earshot--I muttered to mom:

She's half right. Stupid is an adjective.

That's when Mom and I decided that I probably shouldn't wear this T-shirt in public anymore.

I love the shirt; I don't want to be buried in it.

My dad wants you to know

2011-10-04T09:00:00.000-06:00

That I don't smoke.

I got a voicemail from him the other day telling me he was looking around on Facebook (Side note: yes, we're fb friends--I've been obnoxious my whole life; nothing I post on fb is going to shock him... or so I thought) and he spotted something he did not like:

I saw that you posted one of those Zickle Me Pink things on Facebook. And there was a picture next to the post of a woman with a cigarette hanging out of her mouth. What's that for? You don't smoke. Why do you want people to think you smoke???

So, in an effort to hold on to my good name, let me tell you that the profile picture on the right is a cartoon. It is not me. I do not smoke.

Though I am a brunette. :)

Yay! It's October!

2011-10-03T09:00:00.000-06:00

Today I want you to go to the store, walk to the Halloween candy aisle, and take a good long whiff.

Sniiiiiiifffff.... AHHHHHHHHHH!

Best smell of the season, baby!!!

(The best sound is leaves crunching under your feet.)

Boo!

Target gets judgemental

2011-09-30T09:00:00.000-06:00

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

2011-09-29T09:00:00.000-06:00

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

2011-09-28T09:00:00.000-06:00

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

Snooki's literary career

2011-09-27T09:00:00.000-06:00

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

2011-09-26T09:00:00.000-06:00

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

2011-09-23T09:00:00.000-06:00

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!