It's this kind of sexy banter that really keeps the magic alive

For the record, I've never told Beau I'd be somewhere and simply not. shown. up. That's not who I am, and he knows it.

Yet for some reason, he still feels compelled quiz me on when I'm leaving and when I'm going to arrive somewhere (usually calling while I'm on the road to see if I'm still on my way).

Which leads to adorable pithy exchanges like this.

BTW, T-Bone's not his name. It's a nickname that annoys him, so I, of course,
use it as his contact name in my phone.
Like I said, sparks flyin' everywhere.

Best story I've heard in the past five days

Beau's nephew Nate was in town with his girlfriend (only she's not his girlfriend... but she kind of seems like she is... it's complicated). They're sweet and adorable in the way that only 20-year-olds who motorcycle across the country can be.

We took them around to touristy spots (Buffalo Bill's grave--we seem to take everybody there, though it's not really that interesting). AND we saw a beautiful herd of buffalo up close. We were enthralled. They were less than enthralled with us. They withstood our oohs and aahs for awhile, then they pooped in our general direction and wandered off.

On our way down the mountain, Nate told us this great story.

He was in a tattoo shop, waiting on his artist, when a toothless crazed man burst in with a very important message:

EVERYBODY PAY IN CHANGE! THEY CAN'T TRACE CHANGE!

And then he was gone.

Douchebag on board

From afar, it looks... stupid.

Step closer.
It appears that someone has plunked down cash money to have this done.
On purpose

Step closer.

Yep, we've got a big-time doucher on our hands.

Conundrum at the pharmacy

While I was waiting for my turn at the pharmacy window, I glanced around at the many healing items for sale.

My eyes landed here, and my question to you is this:

Is calling someone a dummy a good first step on the road to managing anxiety and depression?

Cringeworthy memory

A long time ago (long before they divorced, she left the country, and she and I stopped talking to him altogether), I was very close friends with a married couple.

For my birthday, they bought tickets and planned to take me to a show at Red Rocks.

In an awful coincidence, their beloved cocker spaniel died on the day of the show. I told them we could skip the show and that I would completely understand.

Nope, they said. We were still going. But we needed some liquor to get through the night.

So the husband and I traipsed to the corner liquor store. As we wandered the aisles, I absentmindedly hummed along to the piped-in music, which just happened to be Mr. Bojangles.

(I'm sure, at this point, some of you can see where this is going.)

At what point in the song did I suddenly begin to sing along without even thinking about it?

You guessed it: The dog up and died, he up and died. After 20 years he still grieves.

Oh, Lordy! I felt like dirt when I saw the look on his face.

It's still an awful memory, but it's kinda funny too. I wince and chuckle (wuckle?) at it now. Totally 100% the kind of stupid thing I do on any given day.

Sigh.

*boop*

This makes me deliriously happy.

Pet peeve

It irritates me when people say I was in fear of my life when they really mean I was in fear for my life.

Big difference.

Hair comes the bride

As I've discussed before, I like to buy bridal magazines because I love pretty dresses and cake.

And the latest issue of Martha Stewart Weddings absolutely did not disappoint.

But I noticed something in this issue. The gowns in the ads are gorgeous. But look above the neck and each model looks like shit on a shovel. To say the hairstyles are atrocious is polite. I've picked some of my favorites to share.

Either she's an alien bride or she's smuggling a melon down the aisle.

The I-Raced-to-the Church-in-a-Convertible-Through-a-Wind-Tunnel look.

Spent some quality time on her back before she walked down the aisle.

And, of course, I saved the very best for last.

You'd be on the verge of tears too with this monstrosity on your head.

Overheard at a party

Proof that there's an idiot born every minute.

Why are you taking her word for it? For God's sake, she's the one who told us she accidentally smoked crack!

Me, the folks, and the ladygolfers

On Sunday, I went to the 2011 Women's Open at the Broadmoor in Colorado Springs (home of insane zealotry).

My dad wanted to go, so we went for him (it was his birthday weekend). I'm not much into ladygolf. Or golf, really. And that's ok, because this was for Dad.

I wasn't supposed to take in a cell phone, but, as I'm sure you know by now, I'm a total rebel (aren't all editors??). :)

It's not like I took pictures of anything important.

Here's the biggest damn diamond I've ever seen in person. I swear this thing looked like a ring pop.

Sorry for the pixellation; I zoomed in to avoid arrest.

I took this golfer's photo because she had the cutest shoes by far.

And then we come to this photo.

This woman was (and I assume is, pretty much all the time) a bitch. And here's why. We were in two lines to get onto the shuttles to get back to our cars. The lines merged. And she assumed we were cutting in line. She went on the attack.

In short, she was very rude to my parents.

And I will not have that shit.

I tapped in to my inner bitch, stepped in, and gave as good as I got. I don't think she's used to people coming back at her when she's rude in public. She was completely taken aback.

Finally she spat out Fine! Get in line. But you get in line behind me.

Oh, I'll get in line behind you. I'll get in line RIGHT BEHIND YOU! And with that, I stood as close to her as possible.

We didn't have any more trouble with her after that.

I don't like confrontation. Especially not with angry strangers. But it's nice to know I can hold my own when the situation calls for it.

And everybody around us figured out pretty quickly that you do not mess with my family!

GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!