Chuckleworthy compliment (I think)

I went to dinner with Beau last week. The waiter IDed me. He looked at my ID, looked at me, and said:

"You... Are doing VERY WELL!"

;)

At the Texas Roadhouse...

You must wear shoes.
You must wear a shirt.

But, evidently, chewing with your mouth closed is 100% optional.

Nobody will care about this but me...

But it's my blog, so HAH!

Last night I bowled 175 INCLUDING FOUR STRIKES IN A ROW (which, my friend Jen informs me, is a Wild Turkey!).

Happy happy joy joy!

I don't care if it's all natural

I still don't want it.

Yuck.

Though I think it would be a funny substitute for lemonade to refresh someone you don't like.

New level of denial discovered

A couple of Beau's friends became grandparents recently.

When he talked to them on the phone, he asked the woman what it felt like to be a grandma.

Oh, I'm NOT a grandma, she replied. I'm a GLAM-ma.

Bless her heart.

What do YOU wear to buy mulch?

If you're like this lady, you wear a faux mink coat (with a hood, because that's what makes it classy), plaid Bermuda shorts, running shoes, and a purse worth more than my car.

A little advice for the fellas when you'e chattin' up the ladies

Don't tell us you have big balls.

Women don't care about that kind of stuff and when you mention it, the inevitable mental image presents itself.

Not good.

Also, don't repeatedly touch and/or talk about your nipples in casual conversations.

We tend to see that as a red flag too.

Happy to help!!

More drug store treasures

I love Rite Aid. I could walk around that store for hours.

You can find so many awesome, unnecessary things under one roof!

(ALL nail color is scented. And it all smells horrible.
The neon colors are insult to injury.)

I'm not sayin' this is unnecessary. It just concerns me
that it's marked down sooooo much.

Edible Easter Grass! The best part?
It's IMPORTED FROM GERMANY!

There are so many things wrong with this gummy meal.
Things that are right about it? Zero.

It's a boob bib! AS SEEN ON TV!

Miracle on Broadway

The title makes it sound so much more poetic than it is.

Last week, I had to take Daisy (a.k.a., The Sweetest Cat in the World) to the vet for something I'll politely describe as a butt problem.

The visit was horrible. While one person held her down and the vet did unspeakable things, she stared at me with baleful eyes. The message was clear: That new couch you love so much? I'm shredding that fucker when we get home.

The vet fixed the problem, gave me three medications (that I'm still dutifully applying/cramming down her throat each day), charged me $200, and sent me on my way.

Yesterday, while "treating the affected area," something didn't look right.

Sigh.

Back into the cat carrier and back down Broadway to the vet.

Sigh.

Only this was the most awesome trip EVER.

Nothing was wrong with her.

AND...

... are you ready?

THE VET DIDN'T CHARGE ME FOR BRINGING HER IN!

It's a miracle, I tell you. A ding-dang-ol' miracle!!

Mother's Day update

We did NOT eat at McDonalds for lunch (we ate at Olive Garden--her favorite fancy-occasion restaurant).

She loved the card I gave her (This is no ordinary day because you are no ordinary grandma).

AND...

As a gift, I gave her a shiny blue cane to replace her beaten-up cane. And it was a hit!

I WIN AT MOTHER'S DAY!!!