Can I hire TWO hotties??

After my Friday boxing match meeting with OZ, (where he wondered why certain accounts are not being worked on and I responded by saying that the cloning machine was defective, it did not produce 20 Bees like I had hoped but it did clear up my complexion) he has now given me authorization to hire my summer assistant.

At first, I was a little upset because this would mean I’d have to dedicate valuable time to training a newbie in the art of Office Bat Mocking… I just don’t have the energy for it.

Then, I became angry because it would totally cut into my blog reading and we all know this is what keeps me, in a harmonious balance nobody alive would benefit by shifting, both sane and insane. Can you imagine me sane? Neither can I.

After listing the pros and cons, I’ve decided to be happy for the chance of corrupting another young mind.

Here is a small list of duties I came up with:

Get here on time to sign me in (where he will wait half an hour for me to arrive but that’s okay because he can make coffee while waiting).

Dust my desk (you’re probably thinking this is an easy task but he would have to move all my junk meticulous files and then put them back exactly where they were)

Once I arrive, get my coffee. (I’d do it myself but I’d already be running late)

Heat up my lunch.

Take Mocha to the groomers.

Take my clothes to the dry-cleaners.

Pick it up when it’s ready.

...

☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼

Uh, this is all I have for now. I would like to add that I’m hoping the following people apply for this coveted position:
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Brad Pitt
Orlando Bloom
Ryan Reynolds

BRAD PITT
David Beckham
Any other hot actors/musicians/sports dudes

If you know any of them and think they would be willing to work for minimum wage and doing menial tasks, let them know to fax their résumés with a picture of themselves in provocative poses to my attention.
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Maybe somebody over at Humor-Blogs would like to apply to be my whipping boy?

P.S.
I’m just kidding. They wouldn’t have to get my coffee. Everybody knows I’m very particular about how I drink my coffee.
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P.S.S.

An added bonus is that I am a very cool boss. Very cool. And fun.

.

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I am a tad impatient.

Everybody relax...

I found the peanut butter!

Bee

Well now. Who knew work would get in the way of blogging? Evil Money Controlling Bastards.

I'm going deep underground for a couple of days so I might not be able to stalk your blogs like I like.

I'll try but I'm not making any promises, okay?

I cannot tell you where I'm going or what I'll be doing because this might put you in danger. Your safety is my main concern. (That and trying to figure out WHERE THE FUCK I PUT THE PEANUT BUTTER I JUST BOUGHT!)

Don't get mad at me.
Don't threaten to kill me (you'd have to get in line as per my previous post).

But.

Since I'm a needy chick, I need you all to pitch in because you love me (love/hate, fine line) and buy me the following:

I don't feel like it's too much to ask. Do you?

I'd have to put him by a corner though, I don't particularly like the image of anyone standing behind him.

Maybe I'd paint a bra on him too, he seems to be cold.

Ah yes, my single years as a psycho magnet.

You know what I just remembered that almost gave me a stroke??
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I unintentionally put a hit out on myself about 14 years ago!
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When I worked at the Brown's Chicken place, there was this weird manager guy (we'll call him Martin) who had the craziest crush on me.
Please picture Milton (not to be confused with the Milton that works in my office, that's another kind of insane) from Office Space only a lot younger and thinner.

I would sometimes catch him staring at me with such an intense look, he'd realize I noticed him staring but he never looked away!
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Okay, I just shivered!
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My friend (who I shall name Brenda) and I used to play "Key keep away". Which was hiding the register key from each other to see who could finish counting out their register drawer first.
Okay, the game was kind of lame. Would it be better if I told you that the one who lost had to buy the beer?
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One day, I'd gotten the key first and she was chasing me around the store. Once she finally caught me, she was trying to pry it from my hand. We were laughing and I was doing pretty good at keeping it away from her which was impressive since Brenda was an Amazon woman.
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All of a sudden, Martin came flying from around the cook aisle, grabbed her wrist and started yelling "Let her go! LET HER GOOOO!"
He went from quiet, unassuming sociopath, to crazed maniac in a matter of seconds! He wouldn't let go of her wrist until I reassured him we were playing.
...
Yeah!
Dude had the makings of the next Norman Bates!
Anyway, before his bizarre outburst, he and I had a conversation about aging. I was about 20 or 21 and he must have been in his late twenties early thirties. I mentioned how aging freaked me out.
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---Before you read the rest, I need to remind you I was very very young AND PROBABLY DRUNK!---
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Bee:
I don't want to turn 50! It scares the shit out of me! Promise to shoot me the day before my 50th birthday.
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His chilling response, in a dead serious tone.

Martin:
I promise.
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DID YOU JUST GET CHILLS??
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Imagine how I felt today while washing my hands when this memory floated into my head!!!
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Shortly after that, he was transferred to another Brown's and I didn't see him until years later but stupid me never remembered to call off the hit on MYSELF!

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On a scale from one to ten with one being Rocket Scientist and ten being a tone deaf gorilla, how dumb was young Bee?

If you click on Humor-Blogs you might save my life.

P.S.
Yes, tone deaf gorillas are dumber than gorillas who can sing. I'd prove it to you but I'm just too lazy to go hunting right now.

All I need is ONE cup of coffee just ONE! Until I have it, I guess you can say I'm not very pleasant.

Hey! Guess what? Today was fuckin' Monday! Well, it technically still is I guess but I’m fast forwarding my mind and making it Tuesday because I can’t bear another second of this awful freakin’ day!

I consider myself to be a nice person.

No, really! I AM nice!

I don’t go around bashing in people’s heads unless I’m provoked! I don’t go around making fun of people unless they do something stupid and then KEEP doing it.

It = anything that annoys me.

IT can also equal breathing, depending on my mood but whatever.

Anyway.

As the nice person I claim to be am, I made the coffee at the Asylum this morning even though it wasn't my turn. My logic was, the sooner it’s made, the sooner it can find its way into my veins. After giving it a reasonable amount of time to brew, I beeped CL bitch from hell receptionist and asked her if she’d like to go get her coffee first while I watched the phones. That was nice right? Putting her caffeine addiction before mine? When we all know that the world is a better place AFTER I’ve had my coffee?

And what does this numbnutts do?? She has a whole conversation with the punishor of speech, Milton . You know, the one that will regale you with the colors of socks she hunts for at the mall on weekends.

I could hear them chattering in the middle of the hall while my hands were getting shaky and my lip was trembling and my foot was jerking ready to kick somebody’s ass… Hey! I think I might have a problem but who cares! I just want my coffee!

So I got up, walked over to them and said “Okay, my turn.” forcing CL to run to answer the ringing phone.

Who do you think was the bad guy? Me!

I’m sorry but 20 minutes is way too long to wait for someone to come back from pouring a cup of coffee. Yes, I understand these people are soocially challenged but you know what? I gotta look after numero uno! Well, Andy is numero uno so I’d be numero dos.

For the rest of the day, both of them gave me the glarey-bitch-silent-treatment. What they don't know is that I INVENTED the glarey-bitch-silent-treatment! So there!

And to put the shit topper on my shitty sundae, my mom has decided to lengthen her stay until the end of July!

THE END OF JULY.

I know what you're thinking "Stop your whining you big baby!"

Don't make me go over there!

Andy and I have been surviving but just barely. We try to persuade people to invite us over for dinner but I think they're finally on to us. Maybe it was the containers we bring to take leftovers.

Maybe it was the fact that we drop in on them unexpectedly at say, midnight, and just raid their fridge. I don't know but their lack of food is getting on my nerves.

I'm tired of cooking! I want some nice homemade Mexican food! I need me some Espinazo, Caldo de Pollo Guisado, Carne de Oinko en Chile.
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Okay, it's not just about the food. My mom and I have a very close relationship. We see each other everyday and bond over Saturday morning coffee. She yells at me for not looking after the Numero Uno Husband and hates that I don't have kids but we learn to shelve these issues like all great families do.
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My sister, my mom and I are so freakin close! Oh and Dan too cuz he's a momma's boy and it isn't natural to be 31 and still calling her mommy. It's only acceptable if you're a girl. Then it's okay to be 35 and still calling her mommy.
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You know what else happened today? George Carlin DIED. Well, he died on Sunday which I think is ironic considering all his jokes about the sabbath. I know it wasn't technically on Monday but Monday is when I found out! I went over to visit Leigh and it was like a punch to the gut! I loved that dirty old bastard! Now all I have is my weird fascination for Eddie Izzard. I think we might wear the same size shoes.

I hate Mondays
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I know a lot of people did their tributes to him already but work had me too busy to update the blogus. Below is one of my favorite bits from his HBO special and it's regarding the 10 commandments. If you are overly sensitive about all subjects but are a fanatic about religion, you probably shouldn't watch it. If you have a sense of humor and can laugh without thinking too seriously on the issues, please watch it. If you're mad at me for this whole paragraph, you really really shouldn't click play.

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Please click on Humor-Blogs on your way out. Do it for George!

P.S.

If you're thinking my rants are bullshit, I kinda agree now that I've had my coffee. ;op

The mystery of the deflated ass cactus. + Weekend at the movies.

Oh my gawd you guys!! Do you remember my butt cactus???


.
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Now it looks like this:
My ass has deflated!! I don't know how or why, all I know is that my cheeks are droopy! Andy said he knew something was wrong when the little butt bone shriveled.

My weekend was great until this tragedy hit my household. We made an emergency run to the place I bought it but they didn't have any more. How sad for me!

Don't worry about me, I'll keep looking for a replacement...

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Enough about me.

The hubs and I went to see 2 movies this weekend.

We saw Get Smart on Saturday morning and as is our tradition we went to the first show. The place was packed so we were unable to park our butts in the middle seats of the back row. That sucked but what can you do?
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I give the movie 2 drunk bees for Dwayne THE ROCK Johnson and half a drunk bee for making me giggle a little.

Would I recommend that you go see it and pay $10 (we paid $5 because we went to the old fogies show)? Nah, wait for it to come out on video. Unless you're a Rock fan and want to see his beautiful smile. Soooo dreamy...
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Khrm! Anyway.
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On Sunday morning we saw The Hulk. We were able to get the cool seats in the back so all was right with the world. I give this movie 3 drunk bees.

HOWEVER! I only recommend you go see it if you're a comic book fan (or married to one).
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Speaking of comic book fans. All the peeps living in the Chicagoland area, remember that Wizard World is next weekend.

Normally, I would throw myself on the floor while kicking and screaming saying things like "Why?? Why must you torture me so??"
This year? I'm dying to go so I can take pictures of GROWN MEN wearing neon yellow spandex outfits and share them with the world!

But! The one year I want to go and Andy is all "No, I don't think I want to go this year."

Not only is he trying to kill me but he's trying to suck all the joy out of my life! Then he said something about how he refuses to provide me with any more blog fodder.

I might just have to start looking for a replacement Andy soon.

That's all I have for today folks. If you were traumatized by the deflated ass cheeks pictured above, make sure you click on Humor-Blogs so you can get that image out of your head.

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P.S.

Don't ask me for the recipe to deflate butts because I have no idea how it happened.

WoMAN without children first!

Listen, I know you guys are always envying the life I live because of all the excitement in my day to day survival of all things INSANE.

However, to live like me, you have to have quick reflexes (mine aren’t as fast as they used to be but I can still jump out of the way of an oncoming vehicle driven by an old lady looking for her lost penny), a controllable gag reflex (trust me on this, the rotten air will one day make Al Gore come and pay them a visit), a whip (to keep people in line) some cool shoes and a heart of stone (the harder the better).

Anyway, I had just dragged my sleepy butt into the office when our Thursday staff meeting was called. No sooner had we all assumed the position when the alarms in the building started BLARING! Now, I don’t know about you guys but I took it as sign to EVACUATE the building!

Can you imagine my surprise when my partners in lunacy looked at each other with wide surprised eyes asking “what. mean. that. noise? me. dodohead. ninny muggings.”

I can sympathize a little since I hadn’t had my morning cup of glorious-heaven’s-brew and was slightly groggy but I still KNEW to exit stage left.



I calmly walked back to the business office, located my car keys (it's always a mystery to me how they end up somewhere I know I didn't put them), grabbed my Betty Boop messenger bag, stuffed my cell phone and water in there, debated whether I had time to make coffee, decided against it and went out to the parking lot where other confused people were being blinded by the morning light, all in a matter of seconds. Did I wait for anybody from my own office? Hhhhell no! It’s every able bodied person for themselves!

Since we didn’t have a plan in place in case of an emergency evacuation and since the parking lot is tiny, I unlocked my car, pulled out a magazine and sat down waiting for the 'all clear' from the hot (HOT!) firemen.

Meanwhile, back in the Asylum, pandemonium had erupted! Should this one bring her pictures? What about the petty cash? The back up system? AAAAAAAAGGGHHH!! All this while I was reading about new techniques to keep your container garden healthy and listening to music in my comfy car.

When they finally made their way out of the building, it was decided we should all go to the corner so as not to get maimed by falling sheets of broken glass.
I know you're crazy about my mad drawing skillz!

There we were, standing around looking for signs of smoke.

Can you see it?

No.

Can you smell it?

No.

How hot are the firemen? So hot they can start a fire by just walking into a room! (okay, that was from me, I seemed to be having a one track mind for a moment there)
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Wait! Here comes one now! [repeating in my head ‘I’m married I’m married’] What’s that you say Mr. Gorgeous Fireman? The MORONS LOCKED THE DOOR TO OUR OFFICE SO YOU CAN’T GET IN WITHOUT BREAKING A DOOR WITH YOUR NICE BIG AXE??

Are you wondering how these people operate without the help of a life coach guiding their every step? Me too.

It turns out it was nothing. Just some lady who smokes, smelled smoke so she went all Gung-ho and called the Hot firemen. I’m saving that little useful trick for later. ‘I’m married I’m married’

On an unrelated note, half the building lost power NOT DUE TO THE NON EXISTING FIRE so they brought a generator to power the medical building.

Were they serious?????? Look how tiny!

They must have heard me laughing because they called in the big guns! Still kinda small but better than the rinky dinky one I'd use to power my cellphone.

You know who I would save from a fire? The people over at Humor-Blogs.

The day I met a guy with soft Soft SOFT hands.

Okay. I don’t know when this affliction started I really don’t. I don’t remember having issues in my teens but maybe my brain hadn’t completely lost its path to saneness. Naw, who am I kiddin’ I’ve always been this SPECIAL.

Anyway, last week, an attorney decided he wanted to meet the legend that is *I* in person. He asked if we could schedule a lunch —neutral territory I’m assuming— so we may discuss his request on reducing our fees by 20%.

That doesn’t sound like allot right? 20%? Well, that would reduce our fees by $24,000 and we were offering a very generous $12,000. I stuck to my guns for a few weeks so this was his desperate attempt to talk some *sense* into me.

I had to refuse the offer of lunch (we try not to leave work during the day so as not to scare the normal folk) but I spoke to OZ who told me to invite him on over to the asylum.

By some evil prank played by the devil himself! I forgot all about it and wore regular business casual clothes (with a small bleach stain on the butt which I didn’t notice until I took off my pants later that day!) (I took off my pants to put on a pair of shorts WHEN I WAS HOME I don't want you thinking those thoughts in my presence) and not my usual showered, slicked-out, lacquered-up, killer-shoes, very businessy attire I wear when meeting with OZ and/or other dangerous people.

CL called me as soon as the attorney arrived. I went out to greet him and he ::shudder:: extended his hand ::gag:: and I took it ::bugh:: and it was super smooth and SOFT ::blech::!

Listen, I don’t want to come off looking like a Soft-ist in your eyes. I have nothing against men having baby smooth hands, I just don’t want them touching me.

I AM GETTING ALL TWITCHY JUST THINKING ABOUT IT!

And not the good kind of twitchy.

As soon as I let go, I wanted desperately to scrub my hand on the side of my pants! It was itchy and I could have sworn little bumps were forming on my palm!

When OZ, Glynda and I excused ourselves to discuss our negotiation, OZ asked me what I thought about the attorney, he seemed like a nice guy should we go ahead and accept his offer?

What do I say? I want the guy to leave because he’s giving me the heebie jeebies!

No! I must maintain my objectivity and professionalism but I found myself blurting:

“Give it to him! Sign whatever he wants!”

The moral of the story here is, yelling at me will not convince me you're right. Having soft hands, besides making me want to hurl, will get you further in the negotiations game.

I'm just telling you please don't tell anybody else! Well, you can tell all the people over at Humor-Blogs or maybe you can click on it anyway.

P.S.

If you are a man with soft hands, I wasn't trying to insult you... maybe just a little bit. You can always use a cheese grater to fix the problem. That's just a suggestion so don't sue me if it hurts or you pass out due to loss of blood.

DEAR GOD ANDY! WHAT NOW???

I’m not gonna say Andy has driving issues. Nope. Those words will not come out of my mouth or er, fingers. I just want to point out that years of me pulling my car into the garage have never resulted in this.
My car is at the bottom of that pile of massacred bins.

Somebody, who shall remain nameless, put my car in the garage so as not to back into it AGAIN.
Instead, THAT SOMEBODY, knocked into the tower of bins we have lined up against the wall, rigging them to fall after the garage door closed therefore leaving them for me to find this morning when I was in my usual hurry to get to work.

What?
You say it’s my fault for putting them in the garage in the first place?
Ha! I put them exactly where the husband told me to so neener neener to you!

I had to remove bin guts from my car which caused me to, not only be late for work (well, LATER THAN USUAL), once I got to work I couldn’t remember if I had closed the gawt dang garage door!

I had to get my happy ass back in my car and drive ALL* the way home, just to check on the door that I must’ve closed in the middle of all my mumbling and grumbling without realising because it was closed!

When I called Andy to inform him of the daily obstacles he litters my life's path with, just for shits and giggles, he said I get flustered too easily and I need to get ahold of myself.

Isn't he a sweetie pie? He's just lucky I didn't know where his happy ass was stationed at the moment because I would have driven over there and given him a fluster of fists to the face. Just kidding. maybe.

*Okay, so it was only 10 minutes round trip but those are 10 minutes I will never get back! What if I needed those 10 minutes to do something useful? Like maybe click on Humor-Blogs? Sure, I can find the time somewhere else but then I'd have to put off doing something else. Who will tell the children I can no longer teach them how to read and write? THINK OF THE CHILDREN! (I have no idea what that’s about so don’t ask)
Also, if you're thinking I had time to do a post WHILE AT WORK... who asked you?

I'm in an abusive relationship... With my hairdresser.

Remember when I dyed my hair black with red streaks? Remember?

Well, I hadn't gone to a hairdresser since that day because I couldn't stand the thought of sitting in a chair for hours and hours and paying a gajillion dollars.

As a consequence, the red faded and left a weird orangey color but don't worry, I'm cool enough to pull it off.

Anyway, it was time to go back to my original guy whom I cheated on to get my highlights. This wasn't going to be pretty. He was going to go completely ballistic!

.

Andy kept making fun of me saying stuff like "The unshakable Bee! Cowering before a gay man!"

Hey! He can be really mean!

Now, I know you must think I go to a frou frou expensive hoity toity place.

I know you think this because I'm always telling you how I'm of discerning tastes and don't like smelly stuff.

The truth is, I used to go to a hair salon that used to charge me $45 to do my hair. Now I go to a place where the majority of the clients are men getting a *fade* and it looks like this:

Don't judge me! I only pay 15 bucks for a great haircut! Plus, you have to be a complete bad ass to go in there and be the only girl in the place. We've all established that I am. (A bad ass I mean)

I had to make up a story to tell Freddy, my hairdresser, so I said I let a friend who was trying to get her cosmetology license mess with my hair. His reaction?

"Girl, she FUCKED YOU UP! You tell her if she touches your hair again I'll FUCK HER UP!"

And he means it too. He took out the big mirror they use to show you the back of your head and said "You see what that bitch did? You see?? Now I'm going to have to even your hair out!"

What did this translate to?

He removed about 4 inches from the length of my hair.

Is that what I wanted?

No. But you know what? He may be short but he IS the boss of me!

Here he is cutting my Andy's hair.

See why I go? It's inexpensive and I get all the abuse I need for the year.

Yeah, he removed half the weight from my head but I love my new hair style! And since I had the orangey highlights, my sister gave me a bottle of dye she wasn't going to use so I got the same *do* I had before for only $20 (including tip).

While admiring my cool hair, I noticed how my eyebrows had gotten all jungley again! The person who normally keeps them in shape recently had a baby and for some reason my eyebrows aren't her priority.

I don't fire her because she's my sister and that would be mean of me.

I took the stupid tweezers and did the job myself. It wasn't as easy as I thought since I didn't have a certain someone holding my chin and calling me a pansy every time I wanted to jump out of the chair.

To take advantage of all this girlie grooming, tomorrow I'm planning on wearing a nice skirt with killer shoes and then I'm going to the laundromat! Don't you wish you were me?

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You too can get a nice hairdo if you click on Humor-Blogs!

P.S.

We watched National Treasure 2 and I just want to know WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON WITH NICHOLAS CAGE'S FACE?? He looks like he actually did have his face removed and then some hack with a butter knife and some fishing wire tried to put it back on! I couldn't concentrate on the movie because I kept wanting to throw up!

Just wonderin'.

I survived Friday the 13th! Just barely...

So hey. Guess who you should never ask if they know of any good restaurants.

Guess!

If you said old people the elderly then you're smarter than I gave you credit for because me? I didn't see that one coming!

I had a taste for Caucasian food. Why don't we ever call it that?? When I told Andy I had a taste for Caucasian food, he shook his head and said I shouldn't call it that but I had to point out that we say things like Chinese food, Mexican food, Italian food, Greek food... need I go on? To me, things like roast beef and meatloaf is Caucasian food.
But! I guess I should call it something else since it offends my hubs. Let me know if you think of something that won't make him cry (kidding babe)(maebee).

I innocently asked the ladies at work "Hey, Andy and I want to try a new place for dinner. You guys know of any place around here that's good?"

Unanimously they suggested a place called Gilbert's.

"Oh, it's very good!"

"And economical"

"And they give you tons of food"

"That's right good for 2 meals!"

Well, bless their little souls!

Since we don't like having dinner too late and I hadn't eaten breakfast or lunch, we headed on over to Gilbert's at around 5:00 in Andy's crashmobile (it's fixed again... but for how long??)..

Now, it's been a while since I've watched Seinfeld so I forgot one very IMPORTANT thing. 5:00 o'clock is to older people what 9:00 o'clock is to the rest of us young 'uns!
We walked into the place and the bar area looked like somebody spilled a bag of cotton balls and a package of shiny brown marbles!

Senior citizens EVERYWHERE! But that's okay, I'm sure they won't hurt us, right?
Right??



You see that red arrow? (Sorry, I was trying to take inconspicuous pictures, then I figured they wouldn't know what I was doing but the quality sucks anyway.) That red arrow points at a wall that is hiding ONE MILLION elderly folk. I couldn't tell if they were being held back because the wall discharged electricity if they tried to leave or if they were tied to their chairs.


This beautiful picture is of the menu which they blew up to BILLBOARD size, I'm guessing so people with sight problems would know what to order?



Now for my review of the food.
I know why it is so popular with people with diet restrictions.
THE FOOD IS BLAND! BLAAAAAND!!
I have never had to put so much salt and pepper on anything I've eaten in my life!

Plus, how disturbing is this picture? It looks like the little chicken is taking a nap. I should have ordered the ribs like Andy did.


As for the amount of food for the price, they were right.
It was inexpensive, the portions were ginormous and Andy will be eating that poor little chicken for a few days because I just don't need all that salt now that summer is here. I figure all my water retention will still be there naturally.

AND FOR DESERT!!

Chocolate cake with a layer of cheddar cheese.

Okay, stay with me now.

What would you say.
If I asked you if you wanted a slice of yummy chocolate cake and then put a slice of cheddar cheese on top of it??
...
Oh WoW! I’d never heard that word before!

Okay, what would you say if I did that on Thursday and it was the BEST cake I had eaten??

Um, yeah, I don’t call you names so what you just said is uncalled for.

Here’s how it happened.

PD brought in treats for Thursday and these included chocolate cake and little slices of cheese for crackers. I went to have some cheese because we’ve all established that cheese and I have a long loving gastronomical relationship.

Sure, it sometimes makes my stomach talk back to me in the form of lactose intolerance but you know, I gotta do what I gotta do. Anyway, the cake looked so good I took a tiny little sliver and put a couple of slices of yummy cheddar cheese ON THE SIDE OF MY plate. After I chomped on the cheese, I had a little bite of the cake and the combination of flavors was unbelievable!!

Sooooo… being the experimental person I am, I combined the two and reached a state of taste nirvana they only talk about in dirty movies.

The next time you come over to my house, this is to the 3 of you I trust (the rest of you have threatened me enough to merit me just keeping our acquaintanceship on the interwebisphere), I will serve a plateful of this yummy yum yum cheddar cheesy cake just for YOU.

And don’t try making excuses not to come to my house cuz I will go to your house, hide in the bushes and make you try a piece.

But, enough about me.

Kidding.

I still need you to click on Humor-Blogs for me since I'm sliiiiiiding! Thanks!

P.S.

AMAZON SUCKS ASS! Not The Amazon, Amazon the book ordering place. I hate them. I've been waiting for a book I bought (Driving Sideways by Jess Riley) because Suzy threatend to beat me if I didn't buy it and I'm still waiting! I blame Suzy.

Oh, this is all about ME baby! (You know, again.)

Okay, so you guys know how obsessed I am with techonratiing myself right?

View blog authority

I mean, that’s how I found out that one chick stole my misspelled title? Remember? It was around Valentine’s Day? No? Was it only important to me? Yeah, that could be it.

Anyway, I came across this blog that gave me an award!! Now, I don’t know if she was going to tell me or not but since I have the ego fragility of a 1,000 year old Faberge egg… with the distinction that it’s bigger than an egg.

Sorry, I have egg on the head after VE’s post about eggs. I wonder if he’ll ever write one about bacon? I love bacon but I don’t get to eat it as often as I’d like.
No, it’s not the fear that eating too much would clog my arteries.

Arteries shmarteries! It’s just that it cost $6 for one freakin’ package!

Seriously?

SIX DOLLARS?? Come on now! Is bacon going the way of those little fish egg thingies that I can’t remember the name of (I’m sure as SOON as I hit publish, I’ll remember the name of those stupid little fishy egg things)? Did I say EGGS again? VE, you and I, we’re gonna have ourselves a yolk off! Four dollars is my limit on bacon (just thought I should finish at least ONE thought.)

Where the hell was I?

Oh right!

This is what Marie @ Memarie Lane said about me while blogsitting at Ordinary Days:

"If I were an alien and had to choose a blogger to abduct, I'd pick Bee of Bee's Musings. Not only would she be an interesting subject for study, she'd blog about it later and people would have no idea if she was kidding or not. She'd probably take the whole anal probe thing to another level too."

When I first read that, my reaction went something like this:

Mee. Mee hee hee.

BWAHAHAHEEHEEHAAA! HEEHAHAHA ::gasp:: ::snort::

[face red, eyes cross eyed, eyeliner everywhere- it was soo hot! my face not the temp. and by hot I mean gorgeous hot]

Listen!

Can you hear me still laughing?? Because I totally AM! And those aliens?? They would be asking me for my banana pudding recipe and curly locks of my hair. I don’t know if I’d give them both… maybe just the curls cuz the banana pudding recipe dies with me and Andy!

I will never tell anybody it comes from Paula Dean!

No way!!!

I have been lucky to be described by many in very colorful, imaginative ways and so off the wall that it brings one solitary tear of joy to my eye. Oh wait, I think that’s just sweat.

So... THANKS MARIE!

And I will not let you down! If I ever get probed in a very uncomfortable place, no, not the back of a Volkswagen, I will hopefully report it back to you in the manner it deserves!!

P.S.

I hate all the chicks on "So You Think You Can Dance"! I don't think their legs are real! They are mannequins imitating humans. OR ALIENS!! FULL CIRCLE PEOPLE!

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Where are you off to? Did you think that was the end of the post? No, no. I need ya' to click on Humor-Blogs for me. You know you want to... ;o)

What is the dealio with the absence of drier #13???

Superstitious much?

Also? Andy said he ENJOYED going to The Mat!

The un-airconditioned Mat!!

People call me the crazy one in the relationship but I think they need to reevaluate some shit here!

Bee and the Giant Average Sized Roma Tomato

On Sunday afternoon, I made Andy and myself some nice grilled cheese sandwiches. Because I love my hubba-bubba SO much, I also added a couple of slices of tomatoes on our delectable sandwiches and sprinkled them lovingly with a little bit of garlic salt. Oh my were they dee-lish!

Later that afternoon, Andy was supposed to make a beef roast on the grill. He had already seasoned it and left it marinating for a couple of hours but he claimed he was feeling ill and unable to cook our dinner.

Being the dutiful little wife, I complained yelled rolled my eyes let him know I would cook dinner AGAIN and he could continue playing his Wacky Wizard Troll game.
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My poor husband complained about violent stomach pains and explosive diarrhea number two and even though I believed him, I couldn’t help but wonder how he could feel better just in time for dinner. I mean, a reasonable mind would assume that a person who had been ill just ONE HOUR AGO wouldn’t even want to think about food, right?
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But!

Since I’m such a FORGIVING person by nature, I let bygones be bygones and didn’t harass him (much).
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Then this morning, I woke up to my radio news guy telling me to BEWARE OF TOMATOES!!!
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oh oh.
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I think I let my man down… :o{

Maybe we should keep this little secret between us, yes?

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You know what's not a secret? Me asking you to click on Humor-Blogs for me. I whore it up on every post.

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P.S.

Don't worry, Andy's fine. I'm fine. We're all fine.

I'm still debating if I should slice the rest of the tomatoes up and add them to the pizza I'm going to make for dinner. Along with slices of fresh mozzarella and more garlic salt.

mmmmmmm salmonella!

Thunderstorms and the fearless dog,

Have I ever talked about Tazz here on this blogus?? Yes?

Okay, then you know he is a little monster when it comes to people. He would sooner make your eyes into appetizers than lick you. HE is my secret weapon against all earthly evils and I love his ferocious little psychoness. We are, after all, very similar in personalities.

But!

Just like I have some weaknesses-eses, so does he. He is terrified of Fourth of July and thunderstorms. He doesn’t fear the Fourth of July because he’s unhappy we liberated ourselves from those crazy British people who don’t think I’m a lady, no, he hates the fireworks and the loud BANG!s.

A couple of years ago, I put him and Mocha out so they could do their business doggy style (and by doggy style, I mean pee/poop in the great wild yonder, NOT the other kind). When I went to go get them 2 minutes later, only Mocha sat by our back porch stoop looking sad and forlorn (or maybe she was gassy, you can’t really tell with her). I called out for Tazz but there was no response. (yes, he responds, usually by either running to the back porch stoop if he's done or by running out, ears flapping, looking at me, then running back to whatever he's doing, this is his way of telling me he's not done)

Since it was about 9:30 pm, our backyard was pitch black. I went inside to get a flashlight to see if he was under one of the pine trees or hiding behind the garage. No way could he have gotten out because our fence is solid wood with no slabs he could go through.

That’s when I saw it. The huge hole he dug IN TWO MINUTES to exit his torturous life of dog treats, ear scratches, SHELTER, and appreciation for his biting style. That’s how the ingrate repaid us, he escaped! To further prove to us how smart he can be, he dug the hole under the fence that's in our side yard thereby giving immediate access to freedom. Any other place he would have ended up in one of our neighbors yards.

I rang the alarm and had all our peeps looking for him. I was terrified since we live ONE block away from a forest preserve WITH A RIVER. Not just any river, a river that joins others into making the Illinois River which in turn is a tributary of the great old M-eye-crooked-letter-crooked-letter-eye-crooked-letter-crooked-letter-eye-hump-back-hump-back-eye (Mississippi) which in turn yadda yadda Gulf of Mexico.
I was picturing my little Tazzy wazzy surfacing, eating a couple of fisherman, then being hunted by a tribe of Nahuas.

Luckily, he was found by Wilson’s daughter. The dog was in such shock, she was carrying him with her arms still intact!

Uh, anyway! See what you do just by asking me why he feared the Fourth of July??

To make a long story, LONGER, last night we had thunderstorms the likes we hadn’t seen since… Saturday. They came at a most inconvenient time, bedtime.

I was tired so I went to bed at 10, you know, before my mandatory bedtime of 10:30 and for TWO HOURS Tazz was in his kennel trying to dig another tunnel to freedom. Throughout those 2 hours, this is what you heard if you were sitting outside our bedroom window (we’ll come back to WHY you were sitting outside my bedroom window later):

KABOOM!! PEWOOGH!! (my interpretation of thunder)

scratch scratch, dog whining, scratch, kennel door rattling violently

Bee:
TAAAAAZZ!

KABOOM!! PEWOOGH!!
scratch scratch, dog whining, scratch, kennel door rattling violently

Andy:
TAZZ YOU FUCKING IGNORANT DOUCHE!! SHUT UP!!

KABOOM!! PEWOOGH!!

scratch scratch, dog whining, scratch, kennel door rattling violently

KABOOM!! PEWOOGH!!

Bee:
OMG!! TAAAZZ! I SWEAR I’M GOING TO PUT YOU OUTSIDE IN THAT ‘EFFING KENNEL AND TURN YOU UPSIDE DOWN!!

Andy:
No, he’d drown if you turned him upside down.

Bee:
I wasn’t really going to take him outside Andy, I can barely lift that freakin’ kennel ever since I was diagnosed with Rusty-old-shoulder syndrome. I was hoping my threat would scare him enough to shut up.

Andy:
I think it worked since he stopped-

KABOOM!! PEWUGH!! KABOOM!! PEWUGH!! KABOOM!! PEWUGH!!

SCRATCH SCRATCH DOG HOWLING HAOOOOO MEWHOOOOO

Bee and Andy:
TAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAZZ!!!!!!!!!!!!

I finally got up to threaten his little ass face to face and was shocked to find his kennel was halfway to the front door! I dragged his kennel and put it in the darkest place of the house, Andy's dungeon. I put him under Andy's desk with his chair blocking him from trying to escape again.

If you think that was very cruel of me, shows how much YOU know! That son of bitch finally fell asleep!

Where was Mocha?, you ask. Well, she was sleeping soundly already being used to all the loud barking from Tazz, Andy and myself.



If you click on Humor-Blogs for me, you will accomplish 2 things.
1) You'll keep the boogey man away.
2) You'll keep me in the middle of the ranks.

And the hidden bonus third thing, you'll feel better about yourself for having made me a happier person.

Confessions of a Bored House Frau (and by Frau, I mean COOL CHICK)

So... all of y'all know Mother Nature and I have been sparing for months now, right? I mean, sometimes she beats that crap out of me and sometimes I... well, let's just say I use my freakin' aerosol hairspray to screw with her mood a little. No, I'm just kidding. I just use the hairspray to paralyze spiders the size of small dogs.

Anyway, I had big plans for today. BIG! I was going to do some patio/yard work, then gardening (there is a difference, one is cleaning up A MILLION PINE NEEDLES and other weird tree crap, killing weeds, pulling weed TREES, spraying my beautiful plants so that the gawt damn GREEN BUGS stop making salads out of them and the other is planting more flowers), grill our dinner and pressure Andy into mowing the lawn, maybe catch a movie...

INSTEAD!

Mother Nature decided to send our county a tornado. With apocalyptic rain. Luckily, it didn't come near us and the cable and Internet were okay.

When the rain calmed down a little, I went to put my steak and Andy's salmon on the grill. I figured I'd be okay, it's only a little water (contrary to popular belief, witches DO NOT MELT IN WATER you'll have to think of something else). I was able to flip them once but when it was time to go get them, it was as if someone was dumping an endless bucket of water over my freakin patio!
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What to do? I don't mind my steak well done but I'm not really sure about the salmon (not liking seafood makes me think it'll taste like crap no matter what) so I should get it as soon as possible, no time to wait for the rain to stop.

I couldn't have been out there for more than 1 minute and came back into the house leaving mini oceans in my wake!

When my hair finally dried, it looked like I'd stuck my finger in a light socket thanks to the humidity.

BUT! MY POINT FOR THIS POST IS... We were so unbelievably bored!

How bored were we?

Well, Andy decided to stand by my desk chair, pull his T-Shirt over my head WHILE HE WAS WEARING IT and started saying "Look! I'm preeeeegnant!" somebody send me a straight jacket!

He finally went back to his dungeon and I flipped the channel to The Osmond's 50th reunion. Yeah, you read that right. Don't worry, I changed the channel after Donny Osmond sang "Puppy Love".

What do you do when your house is clean, can't go outside, you can't leave the house because the annoying Emergency Announcement keeps telling you to abandon your car if you're out and about since the tornado might send you AND your car somewhere unpleasant like... Kansas??

I'll tell you what you do. You shift around on your uncomfortable leather sofas, constantly getting Indian burns from your skin sticking to the damn leather!

I went to look through our movie library but couldn't find anything I wanted to watch and finally settled on season 3 of Friends. You know what? They still crack me up!

So there you have it. A long boring post because of a BORING SATURDAY.
Please please let tomorrow be better! I'm hoping the words "I need to go back to work!" never pass through my lips.

It's IMPOSSIBLE to be bored @ Humor-Blogs so click and laugh!

That hamster did NOT just come out of there! Did it?

So...

I know I promised you guys a hilarious post about do it yourself home security but you'll just have to be disappointed. Let this be your lesson on how you don't always get what you want! ;o)

Anyway, instead I'd like you to be witness to another conversation between two people who have been married way too long (7 LONG YEARS!!)

The other night, Andy and I were getting ready for bed when he shocked the hell outta me with the following question:

Andy:
Bee, do you want to read my comic book about a hero who comes back to life to look for his rectal hamster?

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Now, I don't know about you, dear readers, but I'm not really used to hearing sentences like that right before I go to sleep. Over lunch, maybe, but not right before going to sleep.
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Being the lady that I am:
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Bee:
What the hell are you talking about now???
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He then told me about a comic book called "The boys".
A comic book that spoofs superheros and there is this one story line where one of them kills another hero.
After the hero dies, a hamster comes out of his butt and the one that's alive takes him and keeps him as his ::gag:: pet ::blech!::.

This left me pondering 2 things.

1) What the hell happened to Little Lulu and Archie??? Now they have comics that show pantless hero zombies looking for their rectal hamsters???? Is this how comic books evolved?? Will I ever be able to remove the nail polish I spilt on the vanity sink?
The Boys

2) Have Andy and I exhausted all other topics of conversations that we are now doomed to live in the comic book world???

Noooo! Please no! Somebody throw me a civilized topic over here!

That's all for today folks!

Well, one more thing. Can you please click on Humor-Blogs for me so that I can stay between 15 and 20. I'm easy to please, middle is just fine by me (that's what she said!)! :o)

Come back! Ya' hear??

Okay. I don't have an actual post for today but I want you guys to come back tomorrow (Friday) (if you're reading this Wednesday night, by tomorrow I meant from Thursday) for a special collaboration post between me and my Andy.

The name of the post is "Do it yourself home security, when monkeys with knives ATTACK!!"

AAAAAH! (I'm running scared)

QUOTE OF THE DAY!
"We don't have allot of money. All we have are our friends and our dancing." A dancer on "So you think you can dance." Then the dude cried and I laughed.
I HAVE NO SOUL!

If you smack me with a 3 Musketeer, I guess that'll make me want one...

Okay, I know you think of me as fearless and unrattleable (antonym for rattled) (don’t look it up!) but I have to confess to one weakness (I think I have more but we will not discuss them on this post because it has nothing to do with babies with guns).

I’m not particularly proud of this so I’ll have to beg you not to make fun of me.

Pop up books scare the shit out of me!!

They don’t scare me in the “Oh look! Freddy Krueger is about to lick the side of my face and spear my throat!” it’s more the “Don’t wind the jack in the box cuz I can’t take the suspense as to when it’s gonna pop out!” kind of scary.

Needless to say, I avoid them like I do beets. I know it doesn’t make sense okay. I don't need to hear your lip!

The other day, I was relieving the receptionist while she did god knows what, I grabbed a magazine and started flipping thru it WHEN ALL OF A SUDDEN!

Something jumped at me!

And almost hit my face!

I jumped from my chair, hid behind a wall to peek over at the weird hand trying to grab me!! I want to know who came up with this horrible add campaign! Heads will roll people!*



Look how freaky this hand looks!

She's a model so I know she must be beautiful but that hand just looks like an elephant paw (foot?)!

What's next? Hoses that squirt lotion at you when you turn the page? ::shiver:: That would be freaky.

You know who is weird and freaky? Someone over at Humor-Blogs! Guess who and you get a prize!

*I shouldn’t have to say this but people take me too seriously. I’m just kidding about the pop up books scaring the shit out of me. I just thought it would be funny if there was somebody out there who had this phobia.
...
...
... Okay, they scare me a lil' bit.

P.S.
We went to the laundromat today without Andy hitting any cars! Yay!! Also, there was someone who kept trying to take my quarters! Finally I had to sit the 3 year old down and say "Listen! MINE!" then she climbed over my head and ran away. Hey, I had to make an example out of someone.