Haiku of the day

Thomas Kinkade passed
Self-proclaimed Painter of Light
I wasn't a fan

Grandma's Easter message

To my mother upon seeing her on Easter morning:

"You could have colored your hair." 

Hello, snowy-white kettle! This is the pot!

Sigh.

Hope you had a Happy Easter, all!

I love happy news

My friend Erica gave birth to a healthy baby boy on Thursday evening. His name is Jack and he's beautiful!

Congratulations, Erica and Dwight! Jack is a lucky, lucky boy!!

Drugstore beauty

More beauty products you can't live without!

First, I found this Lip Gloss To Go. How convenient!

But here's the thing about lip gloss. It's ALL portable. Nobody has permanent lip gloss installed in their home.

Or do they?

Then I came across this lovely shade of nail color.

I don't remember the name of the shade, but it wasn't Milkshake Glitter Puke.

Shouldabeen.

And last, we have a marvel of beauty science!

Magnetic nail polish!

Because this is what we need rather than cures for diseases. 

The worst thing anybody's ever seen in a bank. EVER.

I had dinner with my folks last night.

I told them I'd been to the bank earlier in the day and was irritated to, yet again, see pajama pants on two bank patrons.

Mom waited until we were done eating to tell us the worst thing she'd ever seen at the bank.

It was years ago, when we lived in a college town. Mom was waiting in line behind a girl wearing a skirt.

Something fell on the ground.

She looked down and saw that the girl's maxi pad had fallen out of her skirt.

The girl looked down, horrified.

And then... she simply stepped over it and walked away as if it wasn't hers!

Mom wins, hands down, for the most disgusting thing ever witnessed in a bank.

I guess I shouldn't get too upset about pajama pants, huh?

Who's doin' shots?

I've apparently been living under a rock.

I didn't know there was a shot called a duck fart.

I also didn't realize that there are duck fart variations.

There is also a moose fart.

Depressing.

Talkin' Sinatra with Mom

Many years ago, I had a Sinatra tape (yep, I said TAPE) in my car as I was driving around town with my mom.

The Lady Is a Tramp was on.

She gets too hungry for dinner at eight
She like the theater and never comes late
She never bothers with people she hates
That's why the lady is a tramp

Mom hummed along for a bit.

Then she piped up I don't bother with people I hate either.

Well Mom, I replied, that's why you're a tramp! 


:D

Spring has sprung

Everywhere but at my Mean Old Lady Neighbor's (MOLN) house.

Every day, I walk by this cheerful reminder that Christmas is just a scant nine months away.

I want to rip it down, stomp on it, and feed it to a wood chipper.

Happy holidays, everyone!!!

I'm not a plastic-surgery fan anyway...

I just don't see the point. Most of the time, the folks who have something done just end up looking like they've had something done.

I'm totally behind reconstructive surgery for things that have been... somehow deconstructed.

But I digress.

If I were actually going to have some sort of elective procedure, I doubt I'd pick a surgeon who works out of an old Men's Warehouse and shares a parking lot with a Chili's (though they could, I suppose, keep the same You're gonna like the way you look, I guarantee it tag line).

Dr. Zwiebel. I got to thinking that I'd heard that name before. Turns out T. Herman Zweibel (Zwiebel is German for "onion") is the name of the fictional editor of The Onion.

I have a sneaking suspicion that you'd walk in for a rhinoplasty (fun to say, probably less fun to experience) and walk out with a big red clown nose. 

All jokes aside, I'm sure P. Zwiebel MD is a FANTASTIC and TRUSTWORTHY surgeon.

All the same, when I pull into that parking lot, I'm likely headin' the other direction and gettin' some baby back ribs.

How do you like YOUR Doritos?

I like 'em JACKED, Mofo!!