You know what we haven't had in a while? F*ck off Friday on a Saturday!

It's long over due but I need to set OZ straight. I haven't been watching The Godfathers I and II for nothing (three sucks donkey balls)! I've also seen my fair of The Sopranos so I know exactly what to do with dickheads.

Preparing for my Friday meetings is always stressful. It is one of my busiest days since it's the day I relieve the receptionist for lunch and for some reason, every Spanish speaking patient we have is always scheduled for that day. Add to that the fact that we meet at 3, makes a recipe for one very frazzled Bee.

Last year, I told him he could not SHOULD NOT add accounts right before our meeting because this would not give me enough time to prepare them. The rule is no less than 24 hours notice. Three guesses as to what he did.

I had to get them ready anyway because, as we have established, I have a cheese addiction so I really need my job.

HOWEVER!

He pushed my button one to many times during our meeting and I really had no choice but to blow up. It's amusing to see a man a foot taller than you back pedal. He looked at Glynda, held up his hands and said "It's okay. We're all okay here. We're just conversating." at which point he stopped being a jerk and sat there like a meek Philip Seymour Hoffman afraid of the wrath of the beehive.

So, OZ? You can fuck off!

In other news, I am now the proud owner of a gorgeous water fountain (which we were out buying while a torrent of water was pouring into my house because of course the rain can't wait until we finish with the repairs that will prevent us from having ugly mermaids* splashing away in my mom's living room) :

How can I afford such a magnificent water fountain in these times of cat food for dinner you ask. Well I had to save my allowance for a few weeks (at the time I thought I was saving it to buy Andy a new dresser but then he pissed me off 1,456,741 times so I thought "you know what? he can just stack his clothes in that hollowed out drawerless old dresser he has until it regenerates") and then we took advantage of a very lucky sale. Now, if only I knew of an electrician who could hook a power thingie outside. Otherwise it'll be a beautiful non running water fountain. If anybody has any suggestions or knows of ANYBODY please let me know.

Don't forget! Tomorrow is "Bee n' Andy: Married and sometimes, still in love...". Be there or be square.

And since I'm announcing posts. Here are a couple of upcoming ones you might find interesting.

Tuesday:

From the same people that loved reading Interview with a Vampire, Bee’s Musings presents: Interview with a Vegetarian.

Thursday:

Brian's music review (with my reHEADbuttal).

Now wish us luck. Andy and I are taking Tazz to the veterinarian. One of us (probably Andy) might not come back.

*Of course the mermaids would be ugly! Do you think I would have beautiful big busted half-women in my home??)

Because you talked me down from my ledge, I am celebrating Innappropriate Card Day with just you! And Um you. Oh yeah and YOU! But first...

My thanks to everybody who made me feel better (except Brian because he again compared me to some weird looking man with white freckles and said my face shatters mirrors so I should stay away from them.. .or something). Even my work ladies told me how cute I looked and that the glasses were very ""becoming"". Awww old speak.

I figured out what was making me so homicidal about my new glasses.
The fucking reflection on them could land a 747 while I’m sitting in an underground bunker hiding from the aliens who are coming to rid the world of the ugly people (not to imply I’m ugly but these glasses are not going to win me any beauty contests so I might as well be safe than, you know, dead.).
Last night, I looked in the mirror and said to the husband, “these fuckers make me look like Dr. Grim’s long lost daughter who had the misfortune of having magnifying glasses for eyeballs.” and Andy responded “What??” and so I didn’t feel like saying that whole sentences all over again I just said “DR.GRIM IS MY FATHER!!!” and then he asked “WHAT???” and since I didn’t feel like yelling the same thing again for fear of being accused of repeating myself I said “CHEESE AND CRACKERS ANDY! I’M GONNA BUY A GDAMN MICROPHONE!” and then he said “I heard you fine the second time buttercup. I was just wondering why you would say Dr. Grim is your father. Is it the hairy chest?” and then Andy left this world in a wisp of black smoke.

Anyway, I always ask for non-reflective lenses. This time I forgot and so now my eyeballs look like some sort of 3D hologram. Don’t get too close, it might be contagious. I will be calling Dr. Grim later in the week, once I know my turrets is under control, and ask him if there is something we can do to maybe sand off the glossy sheen. Other than that, the frames are very nice and they do look good on me… WHEN I HAVE MY EYES CLOSED!

And so say it with me peoples:
F-U-C-K!

This morning I decided to get my pitiful butt out of bed, do a full make-up and hair styling ego boost, pick out a great pair of shoes because this way I can say ‘yeah, my face may look like crap with these glasses but at least my feet look hot!’.

Sigh.

On to Inappropriate Card Day hosted by Diesel from Mattress Police.

As a thank you to all who make my frown turn... lopsided, I decided to just feature everybody that commented and give you all one card to share (except for Brian because we can all agree he’s mean)(P.S. don’t forget to tune in tomorrow, Friday, for his music review).

Without further ado-do:

Georgie, Tracy, UnfinishedRambler, Marvel Goose, Chris, Suzy, Jean Knee, Petra, Lainey-Painey, FADKOG, Mary Moore,Grant Miller Media, Humorsmith, Dan, ReformingGeek, Cameron, Chica, Orion, The Office Scribe, Kit Walker (who is celebrating a birthday today and I would say HAPPY BIRTHDAY but apparently she doesn’t like to be reminded of her exit through the birth canal because GROSS!), Nooter, The Self-Deprechaun, KayFour, Jacki, NCS, David (who doesn’t have a blog so I don’t know if he’s reading this but he supposedly sees things that are not there CHORD ::wink::), Otter Thomas, Jormengrund, Hel, MilesPerHour and, last but not least, John J. Savo.



What kind of card can I give all those people and still make it relevant for everybody?

Well…


Until next year!
Pass the weed.

Humor-Blogs

I want to get a seeing eye monkey. Who will also throw poop at my enemies.

So yeah, I got my new glasses. I was so looking forward to picking them up that I posted that as my status on Facebook. We, the man I married and I, rushed over to Dr. Grim's and guess what?

I fucken hate them.

I am so bummed out about spending a shit-ton of money on them that I can't even breathe right now.Sure they look pretty sitting on top of my copy of The Sandlot (one of the best movies ever made) but maybe it was too much to ask of them to make my face look good?

I've been sitting here asking myself if I would be this pissed off if I had gotten the cheapo $40 frames and I gotta say that I doubt it. I'd probably would have just shrugged and said 'welp! you get what you pay for!' and then I would have slapped a couple of old ladies at Target and had some laffy taffy. Instead I'm wondering why the FUCK I went against my instincts.

Now I'm unbelievably (thesaurus time!)

annoyed, bad tempered, bellyaching, crabby, cranky, disappointed, discontent, displeased, dissatisfied, griping, grouchy, grousing, grumpy, irritable, irritated,

The ones I just replaced lasted 5 years so this means you're in for FIVE years of a bitchy(er) Bee.

I almost feel bad for you. Almost.

Fuck it. I'm going to bed.

P.S.
This is not a cry for help. I'm sure that when I get my contacts (A MONTH FROM NOW because I apparently have some sort of eclipse in my retinas so very special molds need to be made to make my very special contacts) I'll be a tad happier.

Damn you George Burns!

All about relationships with police non-drama thrown in.

(Look ma' I'm short! When Andy and I go out this is how all our pictures look. I guess next time I should stand on someone's shoulder or maybe just ask them to take our picture.)

Andy and I have had a lot of decisions to make these past few weeks. I don't know if I've ever discussed with you how completely opposite we are when it comes to decision making. I tend to look at an issue and say "Okay, we're doing this." with the authority first born children usually have. Andy, on the other hand, tends to hem and haw and look at things from this angle and that angle and what will happen if the Aztecs are right and the world ends in 2012?

While I'm used to him being this way, I sometimes don't have the extra patience it takes to wait for him to make a decision so I'll GENTLY SHOVE SLAM push him one way or the other. Lately though, he's been pulling the old 'bait and switch' on me.

Last week, I asked him a very important question.
1)
What would he think about asking my youngest brother Rick, his girlfriend and little baby Sofia to rent the upstairs floor since it'll be empty again once my mom moves back downstairs?

This is how our conversations went:

Bee:
I was thinking of asking Rick to move in upstairs. What do you think?

Andy:
You mean once your mom goes back downstairs?

Bee:
Yup.

Andy:
Is your mom going to start packing some of her things so we can start the demo in her kitchen?

Bee:
Yeah but she needs some boxes and newspaper. Maybe some storage crates so her dishes don't break.

Andy:
Okay, we'll go buy some this weekend. Do we have any cookies left?

Bee:
I think we do. I'll go check.

And so he distracts me with cookies and never gives me an answer.

A few hours later, I remember we have a conversation pending so I say "Babe, you never told me what you thought about Rick moving in
upstairs."

Andy:
I thought we discussed this already.

Bee:
No, you changed the subject to cookies.

Andy:
Oh. Those were really good cookies. Were they Keebler cookies?

Bee:
No. They were from Chips Ahoy I think. They were the ones we got on sale 2-1. Back to Rick-

Andy:
They were really soft. Hey, did you start the grocery list? Write bungee chord on there.

Bee:
Sure. [goes off to write bungee chord on list, wipes counters, brings in potting soil, forgets about conversation and starts watching The Godfather II, Robert DeNiro at his yummiest!]

Then before bed:

Bee:
Andy, you still didn't answer my question regarding Rick.

Andy:
What about Rick?

Bee:
::sigh:: I'm thinking about asking if he wants to rent the upstairs. Once my mom moves back to her floor it'll be empty again. This will help him out but the extra income is good for us too.

Andy:
Don't you have clothes and crap in the closets up there?

Bee:
Yeah, I'll have to put them in plastic bins and maybe sell them at a yard sale.

Andy:
You should add bins to the grocery list so we don't forget.

Bee:
I saw the 18 gallon ones at K-mart for $3.99. [goes off to write bins on grocery lists, gets distracted by Mocha who wants to go outside, brings water bottles in from back porch, washes some dishes and has now completely forgotten what the hell she was talking about and goes to sleep]

Next day.

Bee:
Andy! You still haven't answered me about Rick! We are not doing anything today until you tell me what you think!

Andy:
I told you I think it's a great idea. [looks at me as if I just reattached my head]

See, what I think happens is that he continues the conversations in his head and then doesn't realize he never vocalize his decisions to me.

I guess it's not his fault that I'm easily distracted but holy Moses! How we ever manage to get anything done around here is a mystery to me!

Anyway, Rick and his girlfriend (and the baby obviously) have been staying with us for a couple of weeks now. He is 26 and she's 22 (I think). It sometimes makes me flinch when I hear the way they talk to each other, which is really not any of my business since Andy and I have had some interesting angry pet names for each other that tamely range from jerkwad to asshole.

Last night, Rick accidentally locked my mom's car when they went out for dinner. Her car doesn't have a remote opener and they couldn't get the key to turn in the lock so they had to walk home to get help. My mom had warned him so I kept hearing his girlfriend say over and over
"I told you. I told you." Being married for close to 800 years and having known a few men before then (by a few I don't mean like a football team, I just mean about uh less than a basketball team I guess)(shhh, don't tell Andy), I can say that men HATE being told "I told you so".

Even though I don't like butting in ::wink::, I said to her "Listen, once somebody, anybody, makes a mistake, the last thing they want to hear is 'I told you so'. If you learn that one thing from me, it'll save you years of aggravation"

Did you see that? How I was all wise Yoda and shit? However, that advice does not apply to me because I have been known to pull a few "I TOLD YOU SOS" outta my... sleeve. It's really one of my favorite phrases along with 'do as I say not as I do'.

I then imparted more of my wisdom to Rick because he kept asking "why me?" when he, my mom and I were in the parking lot of said restaurant trying to open the car door. At 9:30pm. With icicles on my nose. I said to him "Rick? Why not you? Why are you so special that bad shit can't happen to you? Also, I lived through wearing fru-fru flouncy dresses when I was a kid and she (waving towards my mom's general direction where she was hopping from foot to foot) (did I mention it was freezing?) had to give birth to your big head so this is nothing in comparison. Now give me the crowbar so I may smash the window!"

No, don't worry. I didn't break my mom's window. I called the police department and asked if we could leave the car there overnight in which time I would come up with a pipe with hooks so that I may stick it in the car's trunk, like a more painful thermometer and hopefully reach the back door so I may unlatch the lock (this is not my first car stealing rodeo) but they said they could send a squad car over to try and help us open the car.

This worried me a little since I tend to um… disagree with most people of authority and especially policemen because of my bad experiences with the CPD whilst living in Chicago (Seriously, I have some STORIES).

This cop was very nice though and had the car door open in less than 2 minutes!

All in all, the night was a success. My mom's car is still intact, Rick and his girlfriend now are wiser, my mom got some fresh air, Andy got to stay home and I didn't even come close to getting arrested.

And that is how I've lived to be 36.

P.S.

February 26th is Inappropriate Card Day hosted by Diesel of Mattress Police infamy. I was there last year so I thought I'd do it again this year. I am going to pick one of you out there in I-can't-see-you-land and give you a very inappropriate card. I don't know who will be the unlucky duck but if you'd like to be a contender, leave a "pick me" in the comments and I will eeny meeny miny moe your ass.

Also, if you have a blog, you can join in the fun. Just go over to MP and check the rules or whatever. I never follow the rules so I'm just gonna make my own obnoxious card and send it forth to multiply and prosper.

"Bee n' Andy: Married and sometimes, still in love..."- Andy's Creative Process.

 

Andy said my thought bubble was all funky and I said "You know what? At least I don't fantasize about Salma Hayek the crazy breast feeding random babies with her humongo knockers ho-bag!" and so then he left me alone. We will be back next Sunday with a full comic strip since we have been a little busy this week trying to save the world (without having to breast feed them)(what? THAT WAS SO WEIRD OF HER TO DO!)(the baby's family doesn't have food, give them money or buy them a fuckin cow! She was all 'oh, the baby latched on because it was so hungry!' while she posed for the camera. Next thing you know she's going to say she's a Scientologist)(okay, I'm done).

Bored

So I'm sitting at the front desk while the receptioist has her lunch and I'm bored bored BORED. I almost kicked a guy in the berries because he took a handful of candy from our own personal stash.

HE LEANED OVER THE RECEPTION DESK TO TAKE THE CANDY!

That was it for excitement though because I said "I'm assuming you are going to give a candy to everyone in the waitingroom??" and then I stared him down until he did.

Hey man! I bought those lifesavers with my own allowance!

Oh well. On to watch Deal or No Deal. ONE OF THE LAMEST GAME SHOWS EVER!

P.S.
I'm sending this via Scarlett so I'm sure I have a ton of errors spelling wise.

Brian reviews Lady Gaga

When I was doing my "I hate Beyonce" post, I was thinking to myself, "I should add a link for Brian because he won't know who she is." this set the hamster wheels in my brain in motion because I know his taste in music. He's more of a sophisticated guy who appreciates the drama in music. He likes songs to have some sort of story which made me doubt he was getting jiggy wit it along with the rest of us back in the 90s.

I thought it would be fun to view the everyday music we listen to with fresh eyes so I asked him to give us his opinion on some of the top 10s being played on our radio. I might also throw in some 80s music because THOSE WERE MY JAMS, MAN!

The first one I selected for him to review was Lady Gaga with "Just Dance" Remember, he's British so don't try and correct his mis-spellins!

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When Bee asked me to review some music for her, I didn't even think about it before I agreed. On further consideration I was even more enthusiastic - after all, this would be a chance for me to find out what's been happening on the music scene in the last 200 years or so.

She chose Lady Gaga's Just Dance, which is apparently getting a lot of airtime at the moment.

Lady Gaga is a young singer/songwriter/fashion pioneer who specialises in slightly poppy dance music (according to Wikipedia). I think this means that her songs actually contain a certain amount of melody and structure, as opposed to the very repetitive "just let me bang my brains out on this wall" type of stuff that drives disco-goers to drugs.

Having said that, I found Just Dance a little too monotonous. The idea is probably that you're not really supposed to listen too hard to the music - you can have it on in the background whilst you work, wash the dishes, practice the bagpipes, or whatever, and it won't distract you. Which is why it gets played so much on the radio.

The song and the video tells the story of girl meets boy. Well, alright, more like girl gets paralytic and dances. I think it's set in a night club, since there's someone being a DJ, and people dancing, but unlike the real thing they're remembered to turn the lights on. This is all very different from the sort of plot I'm used to in operas, which generally have more sex and violence, but what do you expect from a song called "Just Dance"?

Ms Gaga has been compared to Donna Versace, and this explains why the video looks like it had no money or thought devoted to it - they spent all the budget on her clothes. To me, it looks like she pretty much thrown on a whole load of random things - sailor hat, leather gloves, a leopard print rug, and I couldn't help thinking she'd look better wearing less, but I suspect that just means I know nothing about fashion.

My verdict? It sounds like everything else they play in the kind of establishments I don't go to, so the regular disco cognoscenti should approve. It's certainly contagious (see below). Personally, I don't dance and prefer to listen rather than just have music on as wallpaper, and so I found "Poker Face" a lot more interesting.

What progress did I find in the last 200 years? Well, they have dumbed down African tribal drum music, and added some western style melody. Bach might well be turning in his grave, but not dancing, twisting or jiving.

WARNINGS:

Having listened multiple times to "Just Dance", I now have it in my head, and so will you if you get it. I suppose that means it's catchy, but you might want to have a CD of baroque fugues handy as an antidote.

If you're the sort of person who (a) likes to listen to music while you work, (b) gets the urge to dance to catchy dance music and (c) works on a building site or a tightrope, then please don't try to sue Bee if as a result of reading this review you buy the CD and then do (a), (b) and (c), resulting in bad things happening.

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I think he loved it, don't you? Do you guys see how proper he is? "Ms Gaga" bwahahahahahaha! Dude cracks me up!

(P.S. to Chris Wood who has not accepted my friend request from Facebook. I'd like to ask him "WTF, dude??")

Men, Laundromat, Arm Pits.

I have a question, how does your unconscious body know when you’re mad at your significant other?

THE HUSBAND and I had a... disagreeeeeeement last night (I know, I know yesterday I declared my deluded love for him and not 24 hours later we were in a cage match but what can I say? We’re not perfect. Or, you know, he isn’t.) so he stayed in his corner and I stayed in mine the whole night. How do we know not to let our arms wander over and seek out the sleep-hug?

I have to admit though that I slept like a baby since I wasn't being tortured by his iron tentacles without freedom to stretch however/wherever I wanted. So. There.

In other life threatening news.

What is wrong with this picture?

You see that white basket there? That. Is not. My basket!
The very bad stranger man decided he would just use my table, the one I had just cleaned for my folding purposes, and put his crappy basket on it while he put his mismatched orange and purple clothes in the washer.

Me to myself: ‘Okay. Breathe. I can deal. As long as he moves it when he’s done… nope he’s leaving it there. He just sat down! Okay. Relax. Don’t cause any(more) scenes. I’m sure that when all my clothes comes out of the drier and he sees I need the whole table to fold my laundry he’ll move his basket. WTF! He’s not moving his basket and is now staring vacantly at the wall!’

I know you probably think I was overreacting but there is a strict code of conduct when at the Laundromat and this guy was breaking the rules all over the place!

Me to him “I need you to move your basket.”

Me to myself again: ‘okay, he moved his basket but now he’s just staring at me. Hey what if he’s a mobster doing his laundry after a hit? Man, I wish I would have been nicer to him and maybe smiled when I told him to move his basket. Unless he might think I was hitting on him? Oh man, what if he follows us?’

What was Andy doing during the turmoil going on in those few minutes of my life? Why, playing with his phone of course! But that’s not why we got into a fight.

In other critical news:
I am now going to share a little bit more than I usually do but it’s for the sake of the rest of the femmes out there who need to be aware of a very important crap product discovery.

I recently bought a new type of deodorant. It’s called Secret Clinical Strength (1.6 oz) and it cost $8. My usual one (I forgot what my usual one is called I think it starts with an “M”)(but it's not Maury) only costs about $4 for over 2 oz and sometimes they’re on sale buy one get one free. I wanted to try the Secret one out to see if in fact it did the job the little box claimed.
Here is my review:

Don’t buy it.

The deodorant comes out in sloppy little clumps and it doesn’t roll on as smoothly as every other deodorant I have ever used in my entire life. As a matter of fact, a clump fell on my foot which pissed me off to no end because, in my mind, I just threw out a dollar. It also burned me a little but that’s probably because I have delicate skin.

The protection was okay but I think it’s the same as my regular deodorant. In conclusion, clinical-almost-prescription my ass.

And so ends my post for today.

How technology brings out the homicidal tendencies in your average, run of the mill cranky housewife.

How was your Valentine’s Day weekend? Mine was a bowl of chocolate covered cherries!

It started with me getting probed and scolded by an old fogey who then billed me 860 bucks. I gotta say, I’ve had better!

The old fogey was my eye doctor. It turns out I’m a huge pain in the ass to examine because I have the eyesight of a deaf bat (get it? because bats navigate by bouncing their screeching off of solid objects?)(whatever) so he has to work extra hard to make his $80 visit fee.

Tell you what. If I made 80 bucks for a 20 minute appointment, and I didn’t have to take my pants off to do it, I’d be thanking my lucky stars I have patients who can’t see 2 feet in front of them instead of making them feel like pig vomit.

And! As I said before, my bill came up to $860 for contacts and new glasses so Hello! How about a little fuckin sensitivity Dr. Grim!

Anyway, after the eye exam, that felt more along the lines of a proctology exam, we headed over to visit my brother-in-law Big Tex who works for At&t. Guess who got a new iPhone? If you guessed me, you’re wrong. I’m still happy with Scarlett. No, Andy is now the proud owner of one of the most technologically advanced cell phones of the century since it was only $50 more than his second choice. Yay Andy!!!

Unfortunately, this is also a sad occasion for me. You see, because I own an iPod and have a smartphone, Andy seems to think I also have all the answers as to WHY his phone isn’t turning on or why he can’t access the internet RIGHTNOW or why it can’t tie his shoelaces while he tap dances. I had to keep repeating that

A) I don’t have an iPhone, never have, therefore am unfamiliar with its idiosyncrasies

B) I am not an iPhone tech moonlighting as his wife

C) I HATE APPLES (get it? because the iPhone is an Apple product?)(whatever man, I’m done with you!)

I swear, if our marriage has survived relatives*, financial difficulties, Tazz and floods, you’d figure technology would be a breeze but if I have to hear “Bee! My phone won’t turn on! FIX IT!” one more time… let’s leave that blank, shall we? I don’t want to incriminate myself in case I’m the prime suspect in an unrelated atomic wedgie incident where a masked WOMAN person came in and pulled Andy’s unders over his ears.

Other than that, the damn thing is awesome and I can’t wait until they come out with a red one.

On Monday, we had another guy come out to give us an estimate on the underground water tunnel we want to build under our house. This guy was older than the first one and seemed to think that women and construction terms don’t mix. He kept telling me that maybe he should wait for my husband to come home so he may explain the SCARY details to him. I told him he could take a seat right here! and explain it to me since I had my handy dandy pink pen to take notes and after all, women had a long history of taking notes from MEN so I’m sure I’ll be okay. By the way, can you please tell me how deep and how wide the hole will be? Big enough to stash an old guy’s body??

He changed his mind, it must have been my menacing growl, and decided to strain my little woman brain with all those technical details like PVC pipe, drainage tiles… water.

In his defense, he did say one of their inspectors was a woman and “she really knows her stuff!” Look at us being all equal and shit! Will wonders never cease?

Nutterphucker.

To tell you the truth, after listening to both quote guys, I think I can knock out the sump pump installation myself and save myself a few grand. Maybe buy some more shoes.

I started my Spring cleaning yesterday. I once read somewhere that dust was just dead skin so I’m currently looking to make a 30 person sculpture from all the dead skin I’ve accumulated since Christmas. I’m thinking of calling it “ZomBee Army” and I’ll give them power tools as weapons. Or maybe I can make them dig my underground moat and save myself money AND labor.

I think that’s all for now… oh yeah! Did you guys hear about the fireball in the Texas sky? Some people thought it might be the remnants of 2 satellites that crashed but they now think it’s a meteor the size of a pick up truck. I know better. Superman is finally here to save me. I love you Superman!

*if you are one of my relatives and are currently thinking “WTF! I’m in the same category as a flood???” no, no! Of course not. ... ...

P.S.

My Valentine (me) gave me an awesome purse and a pair of stylin' shoes.

P.P.S.

I also wanted to let everybody know that I love my Andy more than I do all the purses and shoes I own (and even future ones that haven't been made yet). I joke about our unconventional relationship but I could not have found a better man, believe me I did look long and hard before I chose him and I do believe he can do better by finding himself a nice sweet, never-gives-him-trouble type of gal but he's decided to stick with little OLD me. He puts up with my lack of control when it comes to my temper and I put up with all of his weirdness. We are like mustard and ketchup. With me being the mustard, I guess?

"Andy and Bee: Married and sometimes, still in love..."-Appropriate breakfast conversation.

The Fromunda Cheese Experiment

So... as I said yesterday, I was going to bring in Queso Fresco and pass it off as the infamous Fromunda cheese. I was having second thoughts but you know what? Once I started, it was hilarious because only I knew how dirty their comments were. To me anyway.

My experiment began first thing in the morning. I announced at meeting that I had brought a new kind of cheese for them to taste. Since I didn't want to get in trouble by tricking Glynda, I ain't no fool, I said I wanted them to try it before I told them what kind of cheese it was. As we were walking to the kitchen, because we all walk there together while holding hands, I whispered to Scarecrow that I'm sure she was the only one that knew it was Fromunda cheese. She didn't disappoint because she answered "I recognized it immediately when I was getting my tea."

Of course you did Scarecrow.

Remember, this is the definition for Fromunda cheese as per Urban Dictionary:

fromunda :Slimy residue commonly found under a nut sac.

Me:You want some fromunda cheese?
Bob: Whats that?
Me: Cheese fromunda my nuts
Bob: Why yes, yes I do - from Urban Dictionary.

Here are my test results:

Scarecrow took a piece and then had to tell me that the Fromunda cheese she buys has a tarter flavor. She couldn't detect a scent on this one and the other one has a more pungent smell. She then declared to Toto and Purple Dino-Sour that this cheese must be of lesser quality since I bought it at my local food market and not in a store that specializes in imported cheeses.

I responded that yeah, I got this specific fromunda cheese from the deli guy at Shop and Save so he was the one to blame for it's lack of pungency and quality. Bastard must have showered.

Toto said she didn't like it. According to her, the consistency is too creamy and it leaves a weird film on her teeth.

Good to know.

Purple Dino-Sour did like it. She said it had a nice nutty flavor and she liked that it was a little salty.

Salty nuts = yum I guess?

Glynda came up to me later in the day and said she liked the white cheese I brought in and where could she buy it. I told her the truth because I need this job to pay for my cheese addiction.

Milton said it was light and had a mild taste to it. She said she could sit there and eat it all day and not feel too stuffed or guilty for gorging herself on cheese.

I then overheard Scarecrow telling CL that her son absolutely loves Fromunda cheese and she will sometimes buy a ¼ of a pound just for him since the High Quality Fromunda cheese is very expensive. CL was in on the joke since we told her about our prank ages ago so she just tried her hardest not to laugh. I butted in and asked where she got her cheese and she said she had a gourmet cheese shop in her area. Then, the kicker:

Scarecrow:

I don't mean to sound like a snob but there are some things where money is no object and Gourmet Fromunda cheese is one of them.

Well! That sure told me!

And so ends the fromunda cheese experiment. I hope you enjoyed the ride as much as I did.

Fromunda is the new Colby Jack.

So... I was watching Road House tonight and I came to the conclusion that I could have easily played the Patrick Swayze roll with no problems. I mean, the bad guys obviously wait for the punches and miss on purpose. I'm sure I'd be fine.

Have I ever told you guys about the infamous Fromunda cheese prank? I'm sure Brian knows all about it but I'd like to give you a quick recap.

Some time ago, my assistant at the time (BD) and I played a prank on Scarecrow. Since she claims to know everything and has done everything twice we asked her if she had ever tried fromunda cheese making it seem like it was regular cheese you buy at a store and might eat with crackers. She hesitated and then said "oh yeah... I have" little did she know fromunda is slang for:

Slimy residue commonly found under a nut sac.

Me:You want some fromunda cheese?
Bob: Whats that?
Me: Cheese fromunda my nuts
Bob: Why yes, yes I do - from Urban Dictionary.

(I just gagged a little)

Tomorrow is Treat Day Thursday and I'm the lucky chump who gets to bring them in. I went to the store and bought some Queso Fresco which is the stuff you see sprinkled on top of your average sope, enchilada etc. It's super yum!

I decided to cut it up into nice little slices and pass it off as... FROMUNDA CHEESE.

You know, I went through all that trouble and now I feel kind of "meh" about this whole social experiment. Oh well. I'll still catalog the whole thing.

By the way, I wanted to clear up a couple of things for DAN'S sake who did not "get" the Sunday Comic strip and said nobody did and you guys were just being nice. The joke was that I did not unclog the drain even though I told Andy I had just so he could stand in his own filth while he showered as a punishment for rushing me. Happy now Dan?? Also, to those that remarked on my football player physique, what can I say? I am no fragile flower. Wantta arm wrestle?

P.S.

I'm digging the new blogger tool that lets you have thumbprintsNAILS on the blog roll. I see a picture and I immediately want to click to see what the fuck you wacky loons are posting about. Except Dan cuz he's on time out!