Todays search term that will land you here <—- “the poison in a dog’s butt”

December 23, 2009 at 2:15 pm (Mad Cow List, Monkey Business, The Monkeys in My Head, true story) (, , , , , )

Speaking of asses… I have no time to read blogs let alone blog myself but since I did managed to squeeze Christmas out of my ass afterall then I guess I can squeeze a blog post out of there as well. Merry Christmas!

Sitting here enjoying a nice fresh cup of coffee before I get back on my go-go and start cleaning before the festivities begin tomorrow. All shopping is done, there’s a bit of food and liquor in the house, and though I have a sinus infection all seems pretty good right now. Weather wise, wow… ice storm this afternoon and tonight but the roads are supposed to be okay by tomorrow afternoon. At least they better be… not sure which would upset Mr. Wonderful more, Santa not showing up or JDrill and her entourage.

Here’s a little story for ya. Back in 1978, my roommate (not JDrill, she has sense) and I decided to move to California. We had mentioned it a couple of times but it never was a serious discussion until we were doing acid one night. I believe it was in the fall, all I remember is it was raining, lots of rain and I’m not sure how it all came about… I was stoned afterall… but we just said to each other, “fuck it, let’s do this.”

We packed up her Ford Pinto with whatever seemed necessary at the time, you know, some clothes, makeup, can goods but no can opener, our two cats and four kittens, oh and some booze.  We went to our places of employment and left notes and then hit the road.  About 2 hours into the drive we went around a curve that had a warning sign but ended up in a ditch anyway. As we sat there a trucker came by but didn’t stop and a little bit later we saw the lights flashing on an upcoming squad car. Now don’t forget, we are stoned, on acid for Christ’s sakes. The Officer said he would call a tow truck but we told him we didn’t have much cash on us so he said, “ok let’s see if we can push you out.” My friend get’s back in the car and the cop and I are behind it pushing and as she hits the gas mud flies out from behind the tire covering the cop. Ooops. We did get the car out and amazingly he was cool about it so we were off on our tripping merry way but only for a couple of miles when we see lights flashing behind us. She pulls over and the same cop asks for our ID, goes back to his squad and after a few minutes comes back and tells us we are free to go and to be safe. We assumed at that point he started thinking that maybe we were runaways and should probably check it out.

We continued on our journey until we started getting tired/the acid was wearing off and at that point we were in Des Moines, Iowa, so we got a hotel room and slept a bit. When we awoke our craziness started sinking in and we decided we had better give our parents a call to let them know that we were okay. Having had frantic calls that morning from our employers they were obviously very concerned but we assured them that we decided our plan wasn’t a good one and were driving back home that day.

So kids, there’s today’s lesson…. if you’re fucked up and think it’s a great plan, it’s NOT. And that’s my Extreme Stupidity story of the day.

I hear ice pellets on the skylight. Have a very Merry Christmas!

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Hobos and etiquette but not etiquette for hobos

September 29, 2009 at 11:56 am (Family Foolery, true story) (, , , , )

Last week I’m sitting here at work and it’s raining outside. The door opens up and this guy is standing there wearing a black 13 gallon garbage bag around his torso. He inquires if I have another garbage bag he can have as he needs to go to the hospital and it’s about a 3 mile walk. I tell him no, all of ours are small. Why doesn’t he take the bus, does he not have a dollar? Perhaps he didn’t but if you give one hobo something word gets out and then they’re all coming in and asking for handouts.

      

My dog has been very very bad the past 6 months or so, basically he’s been getting to big for his britches/collar. I’ve had to go back to the basics and work on re-training him, one area includes working for any treats. In the past, each time he would go out he would get a treat when he came back in but because of the tough economic times I’ve been cutting back the treats anyway and now because he’s been acting like a total asshole he has to work for them.

When he was a puppy I would try and get him to sit and shake on command but it never went very well because he’s been clinically diagnosed by me and the Internet with dyslexia and when I would say sit he would stand on his hind legs, cross his front paws and start dancing. (If you think it’s unlikely that a dog can be dyslexic, my last dog went deaf and learned all by himself how to read lips.. true story.) He’s older now and has arthritis so his dancing days are over and I thought maybe now I can get him to sit and shake but it’s not going well. When I tell him to sit he will, though he sits more on the side of his hip, and when I say shake and try to tap his front paw to get him to raise it instead he lays down and raises his back leg. Ah, what are ya gonna do, I can’t hold his disability against him so in the end I figure he worked it and he gets the cookie.

 

Recently I decided to join a dating site. I know what I don’t want in a man and I know what traits I am looking for. I don’t want to waste my time or anyone elses with endless chats and meeting for coffee if I don’t feel there is going to be some kind of chemistry there. With that being said, before I open an email I check their profile and if not interested then I don’t bother reading the email. Once I sent someone an email and he didn’t reply so cool, not interested, let’s move on. Etiquettely speaking, I probably should come up with some suitable reply that says in some nice way, I have no interest in talking with you let alone dating you, so if anyone has any suggestions please leave them in the comments! Anyway, a couple of guys emailed me like three times but this one guy put in the subject line of his 3rd email, “you’re a creep and I hope you die alone.” I did open that one and all he said was “nice.” Seriously…the fuck? Ok then, thanks for clarifying how endearing you are and how you don’t have deep deep issues.

 

And now that you’ve read and commented please go read and comment on my Awesome friend’s blog!

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I’m such a dork

July 24, 2009 at 4:18 pm (Garage of Gloom, Oh Hell No) (, , , , )

In what appears to be my perpetual garage sale (my neighbor wanted to have it again this weekend), I met a Bering Sea fisherman!  His wife was looking at this key case that has sailors knots on the front of it and she told me her husband could tie all the knots, I asked if he was a sailor. That led into the conversation that he is an Inupiat Indian and was a fisherman and so I asked him if he fished the Bering Sea and he said yeah, for 21 years. I’m so easily entertained… you would think I met Sig, Keith, or Phil or something.

Mr. Wonderful wants food, guess I better go cook. Back soon.

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I am a killer of cute little chipmunks and rabbits, box wine for the bitches, and I no longer handle stress very well

July 7, 2009 at 2:19 pm (Exorcising Demons, Monkey Business, Sassy Saturday) (, , , , , , )

Last week Mr. Wonderful was weeding over by the pond and yells, “mom, there are two dead chipmunks in the pond!” Sure enough there was, not like he would make that shit up but I was surprised. Though I do have chipmunks that live behind the pond I have never harbored dead chipmunks. After securing the crime scene I properly disposed of them (that is if properly disposing of them is picking them up with the pooper scooper and putting them in the weed trash can). Later I was talking to a friend who is pretty sure I am not a chipmunk killer and said that they must have gotten a hold of some poision and then when they went to drink out of the pond their stomachs blew up or some shit and fell in. Poor little guys. My blog might be called Poison’s Aftertaste but it has nothing to do with me poisioning anything, especially little wild pets.

JDrill is visiting for the week so now I have four doggies at my house. I’m certain that by the weeks end one of us will trip over one and break a hip. And it has now been determinded that my dog has lost his mind but I’m not sure why. More as the story develops. UPDATE: I now have five dogs at the house… JDrill’s boyfriend is over with his dog.

This morning I’m trying to get out the door for work and I’m standing on the deck saying goodbye to my company and next thing I hear is, “shit! Dog #3 has a rabbit!” (we have to count them like kids to make sure they are all accounted for… starting to feel a bit like Kate + 8 – Jon) Thank God her boyfriend was still here cuz we both yell, “dude… handle it!” I can scoop up a chipmunk with a pooper scooper but I can’t handle an almost dead rabbit. Turns out this was an already injured rabbit, car injury but man am I skeeved out right now with all the critters goin’ down in my yard.

Saturday night on our way out to the ho-down my neighbor text me and wanted to know if she could drop off her two dogs since she wouldn’t be home. Are you fucking kidding me!!! My dog freaks over fireworks so I already had to tranquilize him, two are fine with them and the other is deaf so obviously they don’t bother her. Though we never got to why I needed to watch her two dogs I seem to recall they don’t like fireworks either. She probably thought I was lying when I told her I was on my way out the door and already had 4 at my house.

We made it to the party Saturday night. It was on a river front property and not far from the city’s firework display so we had a good view for them. The group of people who attended were not my usual peeps but JDrill and I can roll with anyone and so we did. It was interesting to say the least and there was box wine for the bitches.  Enough said.

Tomorrow I will be busy setting up for a garage sale.  Nothing more fun then having a bunch yahoos traipsing all over your property, trying to steal or haggle over the price of almost free shit. Good times.

I’ve been trying to get this posted for two days so that’s it, I’m done, for now. Certaintly more hilarity to ensue this week so until then, toodle loo.

P.S. There may be many misspellings (including this word, I’m not sure). For one: we all have our words we jack up, two: full disclosure here… I took a Soma to relax my overstressed self.  Hey, I’m desperate and have no Xanax only dog tranquilizers. I’ve tried to spell check twice, on two different computers, both times it locks up.

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Weather, zombies, balloon, my foot is totally asleep and I stood up and almost fell down, twice

June 16, 2009 at 11:48 am (Could I Be Any More Boring?, Family Foolery) (, , , , , , )

  • Apparently I’ve gone international, hello Lithuania!
  • The life has been sucked out of me. All work and no play make me a boring person with little to blog about. We’ve had a strange spring, mostly cold and now we seem to be into a rainy season so when I’m not working and the weather is half way decent I have to quickly dash outside and work on my outdoor to-do list.
  • The weekend was the zombie march in Chicago. JDrill’s son was looking out his window and saw a couple hundred of them walking down Michigan Avenue. All I got from my window was a hot air balloon flying over head.
  • There was a family cook out this weekend. One of my siblings lives within spitting distance of me and I rarely see him. He’s retired so it’s not like he’s busy with work, he’s just a bit antisocial. When I arrived at the cook out my father introduced us… good one dad!
  • Lately I’ve been thinking a lot of where I’m at in my life and am finding that for the most part I am content. I think about dating but 1. I haven’t met anyone who interests me, 2. I’m not up for another disappointment, and 3. it requires effort that is better spent on creating an obstacle course to my heart.
  • See, told you I’ve been boring.

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If I don’t post something soon I should probably turn this into a craft blog.

May 26, 2009 at 4:41 pm (Exorcising Demons, Family Foolery, Monkey Business, Oh Hell No, Sassy Saturday) (, , , , , )

Hells bells and cocker spaniels.  Ok, fine, whatever, I’ll get off my lazy ass and post as I don’t want to be responsible for anyone dying on my blog.

Ms. Drill came to visit over the weekend. Not sure if I have security clearance so I can’t say what it is but she brought her new car… ooohhhh is it drool worthy! So much so that I had to name mine Clyde cuz that’s about what mine looks like in comparison.

In other news, we went out Saturday night and tore it up. We had a final destination in mind but after a couple of beers and a shot of tequila… as she put it, “our asses grew roots to the stools” we were sitting in. Turns out we knew the band and decided to hang there and get people dancing, which we did.  She was smarter than me though, she didn’t chance that second shot of tequila but I did. Then there was this guy, who whenever he came up to the bar would smile at me and by then I was starting to feel a bit brave and two certain people kept telling me to go talk to him so I did, only to find out the woman he was with was hidden by the popcorn machine. So as I approach I’m all like… ah fuck, how do I get out of this gracefully… so I kinda just walked around them and made a beeline for some other guy at the bar and started talking to him. Yeah, I’m real smooth like that. It’s a good thing I don’t do this kind of thing often, I’m sure my humiliation of the evening will keep me from attempting any more shots for a while.

To say we felt a bit fuzzy the next day would be an understatement and fortunately we only had a family cookout to attend. I was good and earlier in the day only had two beers, you know, to take the edge off. We came back home and settled in to watch Breaking Bad and both of us were a bit unsettled by the ending scene. The next day a friend called me to tell me that one of his friends’ daughter had died a few days ago from the same thing (OD’d) and a guy he worked with died on Sunday in a bike accident. Fuck.

So that was our weekend… how was yours?

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No I Can’t

April 21, 2009 at 2:40 pm (Quote of the Day) (, , , , , )

So my coworker has an adult sister that has Down Syndrome but is considered very high functioning. Yesterday coworker (CW) was busy so she asked her sister to wait for the delivery guy and when he arrived to sign for the item. DS sister says to CW that she can’t, CW says, “yes you can, when he arrives and hands you the paper just sign your name.” DS sister says, “no I can’t,” CW says “yes you can,” DS sister finally says, “NO I CAN”T… I”M RETARDED!”*

And CW, just because she could, calls their cousin and tells her to call DS sister in five minutes and remind her to sign for the the delivery.

*In all seriousness, I’m sure at some point in time she has been instructed about signing things and was just following those instructions or she just didn’t feel like signing, it’s hard to say.

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More Friday Soapbox

April 3, 2009 at 6:58 pm (Friday Soap Box) (, , , , , )

Mr. Wonderful and I had to run an errand to pick up some essentials. We headed for the dreaded Walmartssssss, God I hate that store but you know, it’s in the hood. And while I’m on the subject… why do the elderlysss always call it Walmartssss? My mother does this and it drives me crazy, that and she calls herextra-strength” pills “Vicodent.”  MOM, for the love of pharmacist, KNOW YOUR DOSES… KNOW YOUR DOPE!

So we’re getting the essentials, Easter candy, furnace filters, shoe polish, you know the usuals and I head over to the area by checkout to pick up some bags of salt for the water softener. There’s this 30 something man standing/leaning on the salt bags and he’s texting or some shit.  I walk up and then start trying to heave these 40 pound bags of salt into my cart (Mr. Wonderful isn’t strong enough to handle the job yet). Man Ass didn’t even look up. Of course if he had then I guess that would have been an acknowledgment that my delicate little ass is struggling and maybe he should show some chivalry and help me out but no, he continued to play with his phone. If I was in his position I would have insisted on helping. I should have let one of the bags fall on his foot. Bastard. What is wrong with people?

Yeah, I got the bags in the cart with no problem really… I am woman hear me roar… whatever. I’m getting very use to having to lift and fix things that typically would be “mens’ work” but it would be nice, once in a while, if I just didn’t have to.

*****

Now to report on something good, I thought I would share an experience I had at pharmacy one day. I was standing in line to check out my 2 for 1 mineral powder deal, woot!, and there was this very clean cut, high school age, brother and sister trying to check out. Their purchase was 19 and some change but their debit card wasn’t going through. The brother says to the sister, “mom said she put money in the account yesterday.” He then tells the clerk sorry but they will have to come back. The next man in line said, “don’t worry about it kids, I got this.” They thanked him but said no they couldn’t accept his generosity. He insisted saying that he had plenty of money and he would really like to help them out and with that he handed the clerk a 20 dollar bill.

Now that was cool to witness.

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Friday Edition

April 3, 2009 at 2:59 pm (Friday Soap Box) (, , , , , )

So last night I decided to introduce Mr. Wonderful to the delights of Wendy’s. As with most kids, Mr. Wonderful been pretty well stuck on those damn Happy Meals and just recently decided to be a little adventurous and try Subway, to which he discovered suited his palette well. So last night I thought I would introduce him to the delights of Wendy’s. I hadn’t been there for a long time and was surprised to find that it was an additional $.40 for the damn cheese.  I suppose since it’s called a Single and not Cheeseburger I should have had a clue but I didn’t so ok, I dealt.

Where I live has three cities that are connected and I live in one of the burbs which is right on the edge of the main city. Usually I stay on my side of town which translates into not crossing the intersection into “the city.” Anyway, last night I decided that I would take us on a whirlwind adventure and cross that intersection so we could go to Wendy’s (there is a point here… I’m getting to it, honestly.) So I get the food, travel back to the burbs and come home to eat. As I’m sitting here eating I’m looking at the receipt because there was an issue with the frosties. I glance down and notice the tax is $.93 and I think, WTF, that seems high. Since I’m already pissed about the cheese and the frosty I get my calculator out and calculate what the tax rate is. Turns out the tax rate in the city is 9.25%. I happen to have a receipt in my car from KFC which is across the street, and in the burbs, so I calculate their tax and it is 7.25%.  Sure it’s only 2% but it’s the principal and I am so sick of getting taxed to death on everything. If I wasn’t so lazy I would calculate how much of our dollar we actually get to keep these days… I’m certain it’s maybe $.25… on a good day.

So that’s my rant for the day, I feel better now.

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It’s a Knick Knack Patty Whack, Give the Frog a Loan

March 24, 2009 at 3:06 pm (Family Foolery) (, , , , )

True Story.

When I was just a wee lass my father like to drink a bit too much. However, times have changed and he hasn’t had nary a drink in over 35 years or so… but that really isn’t the point here.

Sometime in the early 1960s he came home from the tavern and in his drunkenness decided to get all up in my mother’s face and demanded to know what the point was of those fucking knick knacks that sat on the living room shelves. He went on to declare that shelves are for storage and to hold food, not stupid-ass pretties. The next day he came home from work to find all the knick knacks gone and the shelves held pantry goods thoughtfully arranged and on display. Knowing my mother and her wicked sense of humor, I’m surprised she didn’t have them priced with stickers and a grocery cart in the room to get them back to the kitchen.

Now we know why, even when my pantry is full of that shit, she keeps bringing me the huge boxes of fruit roll ups… she obviously has designs on any vacancies in my living room.

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