Enemies? I have MANY stinkin' enemies!

I walked into work Monday morning with the same cheerful attitude I reserve for such special occasions like tooth extractions and Sci-Fi movies. Glynda stopped me right before I walked into my office and told me I  had to use Purple Dino-SOUR's old desk because someone threw a rock through my window and broke the outside glass. I thought she was joking because I'm so freaking adorable so who would want to break my window??

They called the cops and since the perp only targeted one window, MY WINDOW, I was then interviewed by the counties finest. Humorless cop and Norm.

Humorless Cop: Can you think of anyone who would want to cause you harm?

Me: I can think of a lot of people [I wink at Norm who cackles] but I also know they're too lazy to figure out where I work, specifically where I sit and then stop by on a weekend to break my window.

HC: [stare-y frown-y face] What is your occupation?

Me: I work in medical billing.

HC: Any angry patients?

Me: No, not that I know of but I don't handle the patients. I deal with insurance companies AND attorneys, can they be suspects?

HC: [non-blink-y stare] Not if they haven't ever threatened you. Any exes who may have any grudges?

Me: No. I dated my husband for 3ish years and we've been married for 9 years so there wouldn't be any *exes* who would harbor a grudge for 12 years. [to Norm] Unless I have a child an ex didn't tell me about!

Norm: ::pfft pfft hee hee:: ::cough cough::

HC: What about your husband? Are you happily married?

Me: As happy as is normal. [to Norm] Well, he DID say he was going to post on the Internet that he was going to shoot me when the Blackhawks were losing . . . but he doesn't own a gun or know how to post anything on the Internet.

HC: Is that another one of your jokes?

Me: Ehh, no, but thanks for the ego boost. He plays Call of Duty a lot so I think he carries it over into reality.

HC: Do you know if your husband may have any, err, *girlfriends* or any other type of *intimate friend* who may be jealous of you?

Me: If I knew he were cheating on me, you and I would be having a different kind of conversation. Mainly you would be asking me why I hit my husband with a frying pan. [to Norm] And that's the edited version!

HC: [angry mean face] Mrs. C-R, I am not a security officer, I am a police officer. It's not wise to tell me your husband said he was going to shoot you or that you're going to hit your spouse with a pan or anything else. [::gulp!::] So you don't know anyone who would be sending you any type of warnings?

Me: In all seriousness, no. I think it's just a fluke that the vandals broke my window. Hey, can I keep the rock they threw?

HC: [growl-y face] No.

Norm [whispers]: I'll see what I can do.

Me [whisper back]: It's like a trophy!

We giggle as the cop gives us an evil stare.

I know it's a serious situation people! How do I know it's serious? Because they almost broke my coffee cup.

Evil bastards!

It's time to play "Worst Case Scenario"! Here's your host: Beeeee Musings! (that's me!)

I know most of you assume I live my life stumbling around by the seat of my pants and you're not far from the truth but on those rare occasions that I have to make tough decisions, I employ what I call my "Worst Case Scenario" system which prevents me regretting any decisions. What I do is, I ask myself "what is the worst case scenario if I do or don't do ___"

For example"

Marriage— Yay? or Nay?

Yay:

Worst case scenario is that Andy opens his eyes on our 10 year anniversary and realizes he married a bipolar nutjob. Until then, I won't have to take out the stinky garbage cuz I'll have a boy that does it.

Nay:

Worst case scenario, I'll start liking cats.

Since I really think cats are a step up from anal gerbils (ask Richard Gere what I mean because I don't have time to explain), marriage challenge accepted! We are approaching year 9 so we'll see what happens next year.

Let's focus on today's challenging decisions, okay?

It all started at 9:30 AM day of the lord Wednesday January 13th (coincidence that it was the 13th? I think not!). I had just finished off a full bottle of water and needed to go, erm, tinkle and like always, I waited until the very last minute which meant it was GO time! As I was lining the toilet seat with TP (a protected toilet seat is a happy toilet seat) and doing the pee-pee dance ( you know the one, right? where you shuffle from from one foot to the other all the while pinching your legs tightly together?) I was also trying to unbutton my pants at the same time... you know, now that I typed that, I'm thinking 2 things. First off, why do I share so much information and second, I must have looked like a spastic weirdo. Oh well!

Anyway, I must have yanked on my pants too hard (that's what he said!) because PEEWM! there went my button!

[insert chubbo jokes here you jerks!]

Dammit! Now the zipper wouldn't stay up! Should I just pull my blouse down?

Worst Case Scenario:

My blouse doesn't hide the problem so I walk around flashing the unsuspecting elderly.

So I looked down at myself to see how long my blouse was but it wasn't long enough to cover the overexposure. Nope, I didn't want to risk accidental peepage so I had to try something else.

I did the best I could with the zipper and walked out of the bathroom (after I washed my hands, I'm not a barbarian!) where I bumped into Scarecrow. I explained my dilemma and asked her if she had a safety pin.

She gave me one of those jumbo ones people used to secure cloth diapers in the olden days but before I could go back into the bathroom, Scarecrow went in!

Should I wait for her her to come out or just go into the kitchen and face the window so no one I work with will see what I'm doing?

Worst Case Scenario:

A random stranger I may never meet will see me fiddling with my pants while I'm standing in the kitchen.

So I stood in the kitchen and threaded the safety pin through my pants and the space where the button used to be. Nobody walked by the window in the kitchen so my secret is safe.

I went on my merry way and continued my job duties as if I was a normal person. Unfortunately for me, I should have adjusted my daily over-exaggerated body gestures to accommodate a hazardous pokey thing in my pants (that's what he said!)(that's what she said!)(it could go either way, no?) but I completely forgot I was living on the precipice of mortal danger!

Later in the day, when I needed to use the ladies room again, I went to open the safety pin but I couldn't find the other prong thingie. I looked down and there, staring up at me menacingly (I think it was even snarling), was the sharp part of the pin! I was almost killed! With no warning even! It turns out the pin had become bent and crooked so it had popped out of the pin's head!

What do I do now? Should I go home and change? No, because I won't want to come back. Maybe if I just put the safety pin back carefully...

Worst Case Scenario:

Fatal Stabbing!

Well, I certainly didn't want to die by way of safety pin stabbing but what other choice did I have?

I threaded the pin through again. This time I made sure it was more secure. Also, as an added precaution, I took 2 paper towels, folded them and positioned them on the inside of my pants to form a barrier between the pin and my delicate skin.

I thought to myself "Self, just don't use the ladies room too often so that you won't have to go through this hassle each and every time!"

You know what happened? It was as if my bladder decided to take a stand and show me who was boss! I would have a teeny tiny sip of water and BOOM! I had to go to the bathroom! I'd be reading a magazine and an ad would feature  an H2O product BOOM! I had to go to the bathroom!

If I walked by a plant— nothing would happen because it's a plant but then I'd notice it needed to be watered and BOOM! off I'd go!

After being tortured every five minutes, I finally took control of my bladder and said "Do your worst!" but by this time it was time to go home and I'm happy I didn't have to find out what the worst case scenario would have been.

And now you know too much about me and my pants!

Once upon a time there was a family of ugly globs living in my lungs...

 

It all started on Friday THE THIRTEENTH ooh spoooooky!

I came down with some bug. Last year I was rarely sick but it seems this year will be the year of the Funkyflus for me.

As you may or may not know, you simply cannot be sick while working at the Asylum. People immediately start shielding themselves from you and spraying every area you touch with bleachlike substances. While your hand is still touching the object! I don't know why they treat people like pariahs when they're ill. With the exception of OZ, it's not like we go out licking unsanitary hookers on purpose!

So, I decided to keep my illness (which I believe was passed on to me by that evil OZ!) on the down-low. Unfortunately for me, at the earliest sign of any illness, my voice is the first to go. Added to that, I have this creepy cough that I haven't been able to get rid of for over a month. That cough has irritated my throat and, I'm assuming because I am not a licensed professional, my vocal chords. So instead of my sweet HIGH PITCHED voice OF A NINE YEAR OLD, I sound like a 1920s hustler whose had too many cigarettes, booze and good times. The voice is a little less Mae West and a lot more Elmer Fudd-y. I will call this my alter ego and name her Lullibell. What the hell was I talking about? Oh right! I'm sick.

I went to work and as soon as I said something, everyone pounced on me.

"Are you sick?"
"Sounds like something's cookin'!"
"Your hair looks great!"

I told them I felt fine but I felt a little congested. Immediately Glynda told me to go home. Since I no longer have any more time off left in the season, I told her that I would go home if they paid me for the day. She stared at me blankly and said "No, but I don't want you to give it to us" and that's when I said "This is harassment!" no I actually told her that if she did not get it from kissing OZ's ass, then she wouldn't get it from me.

I struggled the whole day to appear healthy but once I got home that evening, my bravado evaporated. I sat on the sofa coughing and whimpering, waiting for Tom Cruise to come heal me. Bastard never showed.

I managed to run some errands on Saturday but on Sunday all I did was wallow in self pity, vowing to make the world a bitter place if I came out of this alive.

On Monday, I called in sick because I had trouble sleeping and I knew I would look like a zombie on meth and therefore be judged by the bats because even though looking like zombies on meth is their permanent look, it's unacceptable for me to come down with any illness. I decided to stay home and rest. I slept until 2pm. TWO PM! It was almost dinner time! I felt better, still a little cough-y but the headache and lightheadedness were gone.

Join me in the present day, Tuesday, where I'm driving to work and practicing my 'good mornings' because I don't want my voice to sound all scratchy when I greet Glynda.

First, I sounded like Lurch  "Good morning!" nope try again "GOOD MORNING!" that sounded like Jack McFarland on helium. Bring it down a few notches "Good morning!" now I'm Oscar the freaking Grouch! Good, I'm getting closer! I would be able to fool people into thinking I was 100% better and they wouldn't irritate me with their obnoxious insinuations of me infecting the whole office thereby taking years off their lives. I high fived myself in the rear view mirror and that's when I realized . . .

My life? Pathetic.

The true test of intelligence is finding a way to cheat by just stumbling upon it blindly. Yes it is!

As a way to help our home economics, I have been looking for a part time job.
Andy is dead set against it because I will not be at his bellow and call ("Bee! I can't find my slippers!" while he's wearing said slippers)  but I look at it as a way to push ourselves over that little slump. He finally said he'd stop giving me crap about it but suggested I look for something I liked. I told him I liked buying shoes but I doubted there was anybody out there willing to pay me to buy myself shoes.
I decided to just put as many applications out in the hopes of getting a few nibbles. I think any job would do because I don't feel like anything is *beneath me*. Except being a hooker. I draw the line at that.
In this day and age, applications are mostly taken online. I applied to most of the retail giants and then decided to apply to a couple of places near me, one of them being a craft store with locations all over the US.
To be honest, I don't know the difference between lace and tulle but I thought I could BS my way through the application. See example answer to the question "why do you love crafts":
"I love crafts because it gives me the opportunity to bond with my 6 y/o niece over something productive!"
It sounds like something I would say, right?
However! I did not count on the online application consisting of 3 parts. 3 parts! To work in a place that sells googly eyes.
DO THEY KNOW WHO I AM? I WORK AT ARKHAM ASYLUM!
This application was more time consuming than the one I had just completed for a drugstore that sells, you know, DRUGS!
Here are the 3 parts.
Personal:
Where they ask you for your address, work experience and if it's okay to do a credit and background check.
Mmm okay? I promise to pay off those boots once I get the job and I'm pretty sure I was cleared of the library incident where I "accidentally" walked out with a book in my bag when I was 9 .
That was the easy part and only took about 2 minutes to fill out.
Next we have:
Common Sense/Problem Solving/Intelligence:
This test/questionnaire had 60 questions with a disclaimer that read "we know you won't be able to answer all the questions in the allotted time of 10 minutes, do your best"
I shook my head in disbelief because I have always hated taking tests and here I was taking one for a job I didn't really want where the employees, from prior experiences, are not, by any stretch of the imagination, Mensa candidates (which, by the way, Mensa in Spanish means dumb girl).
Anyway, back to the quiz. I did what any mediocre great  blogger would do and highlighted the questionnaire so I may copy and paste it on word to show you guys and my family.
Guess what? Once I highlighted it, it gave me all the answers! You all know how much I love to cheat so . . . Score!! I will be classified as a genius that finished the 60 question test with a perfect score under 10 minutes. Take THAT Mensa!

---

Solve the following problem and click the option box that contains the correct answer.
A box can hold 4 books.  How many books can 5 boxes hold?
a) 9   b) 10   c) 20   d) 30
√ Answer: You should have selected 20.

---

Read the following definition and choose the first letter of the word that best fits it.
An open area free of woods and buildings
E
F
G
Q
√ Answer: The word is FIELD.  The letter F is selected because it is the first letter of the word FIELD.

---

I mean, these seemed to be swiped form Mensa's website under the category they call ""FUN TEST""! I know some people like to test their brain power but I just need my brain to get me to the pot of coffee in the morning and then home at 5 o'clock. See examples:

---

1. Sally likes 225 but not 224; she likes 900 but not 800; she likes 144 but not 145. Which does she like?
a) 1600    b) 1700
Answer: Sally is a gold digger.

---

2. If two typists can type two pages in two minutes, how many typists will it take to type 18 pages in six minutes?
a) 3   b) 4   c) 6   d) 12   e) 36
Answer: Trick question. The truth lies in the butterfly.

---

3. If it were two hours later, it would be half as long until midnight as it would be if it were an hour later. What time is it now?
a) 18:30    b) 20:00   c) 21:00   d) 22:00   e) 23:30
Answer: Somebody better tell me what time it is! If I miss The Office, I'll be pissed!

---

Even though I had a perfect score in the *smarter than a stump* part of the test, I could not get through the last portion of the application which was a 12 part questionnaire with a varying number of questions:
Mental Health/Personality:
Q: If a customer asks you an obvious question, would you help them and not convey your annoyance via facial expressions or verbal abuse such as "Really? You need to know where the fabric is? The giant cardboard roll of fabric right next to you isn't a clue?"
In other words, they want polite, friendly people.
I find this interesting because of an incident that happened when my mom and I were in there. I think I was looking for fake snow for my Christmas village and my mom was browsing in the fake flower section. She stumbled across a vase with a beautiful arrangement, she touched one of the fake flowers when all of a sudden a little Asian lady comes out of nowhere and starts yelling at my mom, telling her not to remove flowers from the display. I immediately make my way to them so that I may add her to my key chain collection of "people I have bitch slapped for being mean to my mom" when I realized my mom had it under control. She looked the woman in the eye and said "Shut up!". The Asian lady, stunned, walked away, shoulders hunched over in defeat.
Who was sleeping at the gate when they employed that dud?
Next question:
Q: If you see Bob hit a coworker over the head with a fake Christmas tree would you,
a) help your defenseless coworker
b) help Bob
c) hide and call the police
Well, it all depends on what that coworker did to Bob. Did he/she eat Bob's skittles? Because then I would hold him/her down while Bob went to town. And maybe would thrown in a couple of kicks myself. Some people need physical encouragement to behave.
I gave up on this part because there are only so many times I can answer the same question, worded differently, over and over again without tripping up and showing my true, blood thirsty, colors.
So screw you Craft Store. You missed out on one extraordinary employee! An employee that would bring you joy, booze and gentle mocking. An employee that would be late for work 55% of the time and early to leave 100% of the time. Not to mention my brute strength and ability to control "Bob's" psychotic outbursts. Your loss.

The flush heard around the world.

You know how some people suffer from shy bladders? Not me! I'm never self conscious when I use a public bathroom. I go in there, do my bizness and then exit stage left as quick as I can. However, on Monday day of the lord October 5th, I had a couple of weird bathroom encounters (not like George Michael's bathroom encounters, okay?) that shook my confidence to its core. I know it's hard to imagine me trembling in a corner while pulling out my eyebrows but there you have it.

Usually, when I use the public ladies-room, it's empty and I don't have to compete with anyone for the primo first stall. On Monday, I walked in and went to push the door so I could go in but there was something odd about the door. I couldn't quite figure out what because my brain stopped functioning at this strange change to my routine.

I stood in front of the door, what must have only been about 3 seconds, but I'm sure to the person inside the stall, with their pants down, it probably seemed an eternity.

When the old wheezing hamster that resides in my brain finally sent the message that it was locked because somebody was inside, I took that extra step and opened the handicapped stall.

I couldn't help but wonder what my neighbor was thinking. Would she walk out and report me to Norm? As I sat with my feet dangling, the handicapped toilet is way higher than the regular one which doesn't make any sense because people who typically use the handicapped stall ARE HANDICAPPED, wouldn't they have a harder time than I, with my semi functioning limbs, to get on that toilet, I wondered why my brain reacted so slowly. Sure, it was Monday and Mondays are famous for their torturing of innocents but I still should have been able to walk into the bathroom and registered the new door development without so much as pause. Meh. I shrugged and decided to not ponder too much so early in the morning. (I know it seems like I must have been in there a long time but I "think" REALLY fast)

Later in the day, I went back into the bathroom and sighed with relief because the first stall was empty. I couldn't have been in there for more than 30 seconds when the main door to the bathroom opened. I peeked through the crack (uhhh the crack on the stall's wall) and my gaze collided with an eyeball!

Damn pervert! But then I decided to let bygones because it may have been an accidental peek (maybe she too couldn't believe someone was in the first stall).

I heard the other stall door open and then I heard a groan. I thought 'what a weirdo!' and then finished up by bidness. When I opened my stall door, there was the eyeball attached to a whole person. Standing right outside my stall! I could have kissed her she was that close!

Guess what I did. I froze again.

It was like the earlier incident all over again! It took me a few seconds to realize she was waiting for me to come out of my stall so she may use it. When I finally went to move, she did too so we did that awkward mambo step (you know the one, right? where you step to the right and the other person steps to the left but you stepped to their left and they stepped to your right thereby canceling out each others step? my head hurts) until I broke free of the rhythm (not unusual since I seemed to have lost my rhythm back in the 90s) (okay 80s)(okay birth) and sidestepped her so that I may wash my hands.

There is nothing more awkward than the "I'm trying to get by" mambo unless it's the "I'm in the bathroom trying to get by" mambo. It's even weirder because neither she nor I wanted to make eye contact so we would look up quickly, mutter something (mine came out like 'sooprry')(sorry-oops) then try again.

Anyway, once I was washing my hands, I questioned how I had left the toilet 'did I make sure all the TP went into the bowl?' (Because let's remember that I always line the seat. I've been doing it since I was 6 and my parents took us to see Bambi at the drive-in and my mom showed me how to line the seat so that I wouldn't get any awful diseases. Like stupidity.) I again shrugged and thought it was no longer my problem.

The rest of the day, I tried holding it (and by 'it', I don't mean 'IT') but when I felt my eyeballs floating, I took my chances and prayed for the best.

I grab the bathroom key from the wall and open the office door.
I peek my head out, look from side to side. CLEAR!
I walk quickly to the bathroom. Insert bathroom key, twist, shove door, hurt arm because, in my frenzy, I didn't twist the key all the way, try again, the door opens.
I scan the place quickly. Empty.
I push the door to the first stall, lock it, [censored], sit down.

I wasn't in there more than 10 seconds when some wild gorilla starts rattling the bathroom door handle! I have to say I'm glad I was already on the pot when it happened because I may have peed myself from shock!
I hurry up, exit the stall, wash my hands and open the door. There is nobody out there! Am I nuts? Don't answer that.

I walk back to the office and no sooner do I open the door when this big, loud lady starts yelling at me!

Big loud lady:
Didn't you hear me knocking at the door???

Bee [while handing over the key]:
Didn't you hear me peeing? Did you want me to stop midstream, hobble out and unlock the door?

BLL:
::gasp::

2 other women in the waiting room chuckle.

And I'm baaack!

My reign of terror at the Laundromat? It comes to an end!! (Shoots off confetti at the audience!)(Hopes nobody gets it in the eye)(except maybe YOU right there!)

This past Saturday morning, Andy and I woke up extremely early SIX-THIRTY! He got up and put on his big boy pants so he may take the dogs out, go move our cars and open the back gate while I decided to stay in bed and send my support from there. With my eyes closed. And hugging my teddy bear.

I was all snuggly when I heard my car alarm go off. I jumped out of bed, because I know how over reactive my man can be, and ran to the front door. Meanwhile Andy ran the length of our long driveway and came into the house through the back door, which doesn't make sense because my car was parked in the front but whatever, yelling "BEE! WHERE IS YOUR KEY FOB???" (as my car alarm was going nuts waiting to be shut off) (as he was holding my car keys with my, ehm, KEY FOB that shuts off my car alarm). So I say "you are holding it" in English because that is the only language he understands and he bellows "NO I'M NOT! WHERE IS YOUR KEY FOOOOOOB??" so I take this thing that he's holding that he claims is NOT my key fob, walk to the front door, push the button on this imposter key fob and miraculously shut off my car alarm.

I slowly turn to look at him and he's just standing there, seething. Then he walks into the bedroom and I look at the time. 6:45 which triggers the rage within me. When he came out of the bedroom I let him have it boys and girls. I can't even remember what I said but I'm sure it was mean (because my voice was all snarly) and I ended it with "so you better apologize"

And he did.

I don't recall the last time Andy said 'I'm sorry'. Wait, I do. It was that one time he accidentally elbowed me in the head while he was sleeping. But that one shouldn't count because I smacked him on the stomach to wake him up and told him what he had done and he opened one eye and said 'oh sawrry' ::snore:: I'm sure that in the rule book (The Marriage Rule Book) there is an entry that clearly states that half conscious apologies are invalid in the states of Illinois, Wisconsin, California, Hawaii and maybe Alaska.

Anyway, the reason we were up so early and moving the cars around was because we needed to make room for the delivery truck that was dropping off our BRAND SPANKIN NEW WASHER!!

The delivery dudes (or "happy marriage makers" as I call them) arrived at 7:01 and, after they installed it and hauled away the old washer, were gone by 7:15.

I was so happy, I was doing dance moves I haven't been able to do since the late 80s.

I have to thank my mother and father-in-law (or "fairy godparents of smiling, happy couples" as I like to call them) for their awesome gift. They took pity on the people I have to interact with at the Laundromat and decided to intervene on their behalf. They knew I was down to my last nerve and the chains holding me back from doing serious damage to people hogging all the carts, dryers, tables, wouldn't keep me back for much longer.

Thank you Mom and Pop R.!

Here is a picture of my beautiful new washer. See how it spins for me??

Here is a picture of it standing nobly next to my dryer (which will hopefully be replaced in March).

My heart sings for you, my beautiful washer!

Later that morning, Andy cleaned out the garage (with some help from me) (but it was mostly me standing around saying stuff like "ewww! Look at all the spider eggs!" and Andy correcting me by saying "They're spider SACKS, Bee" and me saying "look, they can be spider eggs, sacks or balls for all I care because they are still EWWW!" and then him telling me to get out of the garage because he didn't need me jumping around every time I thought something was crawling on me and knocking over his elaborate balancing crap-o-stuff.).

After the flood of 2008, we stored a bunch of stuff in the garage. Materials, tools, stuff I bought on ebay which years later has me wondering what kind of drugs I was on (must have been good ones):

I know I just became cooler in your eyes.

When I opened the box, I was stunned. Was I thinking about changing careers and trying to break into the clown industry? Holy crap!

To answer your unspoken question, no, I never wore them. Just opening the box now makes me want to disinfect my body. And to some extent, my mind.

We took a break in the middle of the day to have lunch at Costco. I know I've said I don't eat any of the samples because I'm afraid of contracting small pox, eating more than my daily recommended intake of other people's skin flakes AKA dust and being pressured into buying 80 lbs of crab salad (and I don't even like crabs, edible or otherwise) but my mom came with us and hit every sample table from the front to the back of the store.

She'd walk away with portions for herself, Andy and I. By the end of our stay, we had to be rolled out of there. The freakin place was packed but now I know why people go there at around 1 o'clock. Why pay $8 per person at Corner Bakery when you can eat for free?

After we were able to tear my mesmerized mother away from the Costco blender demonstrator (who thinks he's so cool because he has a Madonna microphone) (but I'm not impressed unless he sings Lucky Star and shines one me wherever I are), we made our way home and lived happily every after.

Well, until the free booze wore off.

How you doin'? + How well do you know me?

Okay you guys, I'm kind of crabby today because Tazz woke me up at 5:45 which means I only got 5 hours of sleep, I have my 1,000th doctor's appointment this year this morning (and I'm tired of them!), it's rainy and soggy outside, my plants/flowers have mold because of all of the rain, I burned my eggos, I can't have coffee until after the doc appointment (blood pressure readings are still too high but I'll be damned if I give up my coffee), I have 13 zillion mosquito bites and only 2 hands to scratch them with, Andy won't stop with the baby talk when he talks to Mocha (what is he doing up anyway? It's too early!)(did I mention no coffee?), ETCETERA!

To cheer myself up, I am posting this "How well do you know Bee" quiz I had posted on facebook. Please leave your answers in the comments. I also know it's Saturday and very few people are sitting at home on their computers this weekend so I don't expect too many people to take the quiz but I hope those that stop by give it a try. I don't think a single person will get 100%. Not even Andy. Which, by the way, is asking me too many questions too early in the morning! "What are you typing, Bee?" "Did you take the dogs out, Bee?" "What time are we leaving, Bee?" "Blah blah blah blah, Bee?" "Why are you being so moody, Bee?"

I don't care how much my blood pressure rises, I am not giving up coffee OR Andy! We look like vampires.(don't ask)

1)
What color suits me best?

a)
Red

b)
Doomsday Black

c)
Multicolored Polka Dots

d)
Orange Sherbert

e)
Green limekini

2)
What time am I usually in bed by?

a)
Too late midnight

b)
Andy the warden 10:30

c)
Old lady 9pm

d)
I don't sleep

e)
Purple

3)
What am I scared of?

a)
My boss (yeah, right!)

b)
The bats I work with (nope)

c)
Babies with guns

d)
Homer Simpson

e)
The color pink

4)
My favorite drink is ________.

a)
Blood

b)
The color purple

c)
Ice cream

d)
poodles

e)
Vanilla coke

5)
Who is my favorite Disney character?

a)
Grumpy

b)
Stumpy

c)
Ben dover

d)
Sugar

e)
Cinderella

I am going to surgically attach my cell to my wrist because that way I will never ever miss important photo opportunities like big yellow-red rats mocking PETA.

Have I ever told you guys how defenseless I feel when I forget my cellphone? I constantly find myself reaching for the spot where it usually rests on my desk. I would have taken a picture of the spot but I forgot my cellphone.

You see, my cell is no longer something I just make phone calls with. Since I no longer have access to the internet at work (which sucks because I can no longer harass Brian and jean knee while I’m at work so now they go on about their lives in peace and who wants that???), I check my email on it, read my favorite blogs, AND take pictures of interesting things.

On Friday, I forgot it at home. And what happens??? Across the street from my office some dudes inflated a giant rat! A giant scary rat with fangs and claws ready to eat you up! This thing was huge and not really lifelike because it was yellow and red but it still had a menacing look to him.

We stood in front of the window wondering what they were advertising using a rat. They had inflated it near some apartment building so one of the bats said, “maybe they’re trying to advertise vacant apartments” and I was like “with a rat?? ‘Hi! Come live here, we have rats!’ No, I doubt it.”

Then, when the coffee made me smurt, I figured out they weren't advertising, they were protesting something. Unfortunately, we couldn’t make out what the signs said and I was too lazy to walk over, the street is one of the busiest in the area, so I just came up with different scenarios in my head.

-They were protesting Scarecrow's very short shorts because hello? It’s Casual Friday not Hoochie Dress Up Day. I know some older women can pull it off but picture the old tanned lady from Something about Mary. Only more wrinkly.

- They were protesting PETA's obsession with eating rocky mountain oyster. Seriously, PETA! You guys are sick!

- They were protesting because I haven't gotten a raise in my allowance in 3 years. We need to know why! I've done all most of my chores!

- They were protesting Milton's constant criticizing on their disorganized protest. "They should hold the signs up higher! They should have printed bigger signs! I can't read what they say! Why is that man on his cellphone?? He doesn't seem too interested in his protest!" and so on.

I was upset with myself for not having my phone so I may photo document this exciting event but I think I came up with a solution so that you may experience what I was seeing semi-first hand.

I was originally going to draw it for you but my drawing looked like cavemen chasing a chia pet so I recreated it with things around my house.

Okay, here we have that big dragon thing representing the rat, a couple of Bonsai trees representing the trees, flowers representing flowers, Betty Boop in her smoking convertible representing cars driving by and honking their support, the 2 Mexican ladies, Han Solo and Pinocchio representing the protestors.

Here is a close up.

Here is an aerial view taken from the Bee chopper in the sky. I don't know what that mini bottle of Tabasco sauce is doing there. Maybe it was left there after their lunch?

We never did find out what they were protesting and they left before I got out of work but I saw Norm talking to them and I'm sure he'll give me the full scoop on Monday.

P.S.

The Sunday Comic should be back next Sunday. We have been a tad busy but I'm planning on making Andy drink nothing but Red Bull this week so his slacking days are over!

The mysterious case of Michael Bublé (or as I like to call him Mr. Facial Expression Exaggerator Sinatra Wannabe)

So, like all good citizens of the world, I have an iPod. It was given to me by the generous and talented man I live with on one of my many birthdays. It is the iPod Nano with only about 1 or 2 gigglebiggles so it only holds about one thousand songs.

Unfortunately, fortunately for all musicians who take my money, my love of all kinds of music makes the selection of only 1,000 songs near impossible. I have to Sophie’s Choice my playlist “On a scale of 1-10, how much do I really like ‘Pump up the jam’?” (The answer: a hell of a lot more than is healthy!)

So imagine my surprise when I came across a whole Michael Bubblebutt album! Not one or maybe 2 songs that may have forcefully snuck in by knocking out my anti-overly-smooth-crooners safeguard. A whole album consisting of 13 songs! Thirteen Jerry!

 

So I went to the only other person who lives in my house and has access to my computer.

Bee:
Andy, did you upload Michael Bubblenut into my iPod.

Andy:
Michael who?

-Lengthy explanation followed-

Andy:
Come on! You have to remember buying that CD?

Bee:
uhhhh no. I would never buy that phony-baloney's CD! How dare you imply—

Andy:
I bet if you look around the house you will find that CD.

So I looked around the house and found the CD. That doesn’t really prove anything because I have many enemies willing to plant crazy shit in my house just so they could accuse me of having no taste in music. (and then while they’re here, they hide my left shoes)

I mean why? Why would I buy that CD? I’m pretty sure nobody gave it to me because I would have given it back inside a bag of dog poop.

I guess this is one of those Life’s Mysteries I’m always hearing about.

In other news.

I was at the office and decided to get some more coffee. As I was making my way to the kitchen, I noticed an elderly woman in a wheelchair sitting in an exam room waiting to be seen. She kept staring at me and her eyes were growing wider and wider the closer I got. When I was near her, she grabbed on to her companion (son maybe?) and screeched (yup, loud enough for all nearby eyes to be on me) “She’s a gypsy! She’s a gypsy! Never trust a gypsy!”

That’s nice. Old people (and babies) instinctively fear me. I think I'm going to put that on my resume.

So hello there! Did you miss me? I had a great time on my mini break, thanks for asking!

I know you’re probably dying to know what crazy high jinks we’ve got into but we had a pretty tame weekend so no juicy news for you!

Okay, I'll tell you about it anyway...

On Friday I continued with my landscaping and grub killing extravaganza. I am now the meanest, shortest, smelliest grub killer in the Midwest. Also, my sister took this picture of a bird taking a crap in my frog planter. To the bird I ask, "what the hell bird? the whole world is your toilet but you chose my freakin frog? asshat!"

Damn thing even turned away pretending to be embarrassed.

That reminds me of an old joke my uncle Curly used to tell me. He said that when he was out in rural farms delivering The Coca Cola and he needed to go, um, poopsie, he would go in a field, drop his pants and close his eyes. When I would ask why he closed his eyes he'd say "So anybody driving by wouldn't see me going poopsie" and when I would question that logic he would reply "if I can't see them, they can't see me!" Yeah, pretty much my whole family is weird.

On Saturday, at the BCD (butt crack of dawn), we went to the laundromat and I threw the mother of all tantrums because the machines were all being assholes! We then moved my momma and she is now officially on a separate floor which means all toys that belong to people under the age of 30 have been relocated and now my house doesn’t look like the McDonald’s play area.

On Sunday we took our one day vacation (because there is no budget this year for going anywhere exciting… sorry Wisconsin) and went to my in-laws’ campground where we all fell asleep in front of the TV and probably snored in unison.

On Monday I cleaned my house and rid it of all the construction dust that had accumulated because my logic was “what’s the point in cleaning today if it’ll look the same tomorrow” (you may recognize that logic if you have teens/preteens/husbands) from top to bottom then went to see Angels and Demons so that I may rest my old decrepit bones.

And now you’re jealous because my life is much more exciting than yours. What can I say? Not everybody can be this cool.

I enjoyed every last drop of this Holiday weekend and today was crashing about the office because I’d forgotten how to walk around walls. My only consolation is that we are already on Tuesday and it’ll be the weekend in no time. Hopefully.

I just heard it will rain until tomorrow night. I'm glad because we've obviously NOT had enough rain.

P.S.

To Brian and jean knee who thought something catastrophic had happened to me like pig flu or death, thanks guys! You always know how to brighten my day! Jerks.

P.P.S.

Does anybody watch Jon and Kate + 8? (For those of you who have lives and have no idea who they are, they are a young couple who over fertilized themselves and had 8 kids. They have been on TV for about 4 years or so.) I can’t explain why but I’ve become obsessed with the Jon and Kate Gosselin drama. Will they stay together? Will they get a divorce? They went from looking like they loved each other to hating each other in the blink of an eye. I really hope they pull it together because I’m running out of shows to watch.

I boldly went where I've never gone before...

So, we went to see Star Trek on Sunday. Even though I’ve never ever seen a single episode of the original series or the previous movies (never! not even by accident where, say, I was strapped to a bed and the only channel with reception was running a Star Trek marathon and my eyes were held open by toothpicks and superglue, ever) I liked it!

Chris Pine is hawt even with his bushy brows or maybe I have a thing for bushy brows since my Andy has them too. I just thought about the bushy brow thing and I don’t want you to misunderstand me. There are certain wild bushy brows that I find acceptable and then there are those that are manicured bushy which ewww!

Anyway, Pine’s character is a funny smartass that, thank heavens, does not remind me of William Shatner’s acting. I guess some people thought William Shatner was a stud in his hey day but I’ve never seen the attraction.

Speaking of Andy's bushy brows, you would have thought being late for this movie would spell disaster for Earth and its inhabitants because he went on a rant where he almost forbade me to use the bathroom before we left. I had to put my foot down (on his face) and tell him that I was not going to hold it for hours just because he didn’t want to miss a single second of outer space. I think his fear was that there would be gobs of people standing in line. At 10:45 AM. On a Sunday. I had to reassure him that few people have less of a life than we do but then I remembered we were talking about Trekkies so I stand corrected. Kidding! Maybe.

I’m sure there were many inside jokes I missed but I didn’t feel like you needed to be wearing pointy ears to be able to follow the movie. Oh yeah and I especially liked the retro outfits the chicks um women wore.

We went to the movies after taking my mom to breakfast to celebrate the fact that I was the first one to make her a mother. She and I joke about it every year because I always expect her to give me a present and she always says “I gave you life” and I always respond that that trick is played out and now I want a pony/koala bear/Brad Pitt.

I further celebrated mami’s day by cooking dinner. For some reason she loves my veggie lasagna and as an added bonus, Maria, THE VEGETARIAN, was also able to dine on my fine cuisine on her first mother’s day ever because I didn’t use as much ground seal as the recipe calls for.

I also prepared a nice salad and some homemade garlic bread.

Nothing but the best for my momma!

I know I know, I’m a horrible daughter considering she is always cooking our favorite dishes and she does it from scratch.

I think she was a little disappointed that I didn’t invite the clan over to celebrate but frankly the husband and I have a budget we live on and our life got a little more complicated once my brother Rick, Maria and the baby moved in. Andy and I joke about the fact that we don’t have children and yet our food bill suggests otherwise. So, due to the new responsibilities and in order to avoid going to the poor house, our home is now officially closed for any future hosting events until further notice (Thanksgiving being the exception).

I’m hoping to make it up to her on her birthday by organizing dinner at a nice restaurant I hope it’s understood that everybody will pay for their own food because I don’t think Andy will be too thrilled with staying behind to help the busboys clean up. ;o)

P.S.

Mini rant regarding Costco. Andy and I bought some lemon blueberry and blueberry muffins. And we, AS A COUPLE, have this to ask:

WHAT THE FUCK??

Did we misunderstand the label? Did you mean "with a hint of blueberry"? Because we could not find a blueberry to save our lives! Well, Andy found one but then it fell and he cried out "No! Where the fuck are my blueberries??" Maybe we should have paid for them with a hint of money? Bastards.

P.P.S. to jean knee:

Don’t think I didn’t catch your question regarding my dogs and what they got me for mother’s day. I know you did it because of last year’s post. I forgive you because you are my friend but next year? I will make you wear my new shoes as punishment.

How to start a kitchen fire in 5 easy steps.

1) put pan on burner
2) light burner
3) put oil in pan
4) go remove Tazz's jaw from Andy's leg
5) come back and put beans in hella-hot oil

Stand back and watch the oil, liquid, fire combine for a beautiful fire display. BUT! Beware of becoming hypnotized by the flickering flames because they might make you want to get closer and you'll end up with an unfashionable hairdo.

Yup! I sure did start a fire and nearly burned my house down! The sad part is that it was my first official cooking day.
Don't worry, everything is okay. Even though the microwave and cabinets were lit up like Rudolph after a week of binge drinking, nothing melted.

To quote Andy "Isn't making BEANS part of your DNA for cripessake??"

He's just mad because when I yelled out for help (normally I'm all calm, cool and collected but when I noticed the flames on my microwave and cabinets, something inside of me shit its pants) he came barreling from around the corner, assessed the situation and opened the back porch door and stood there in a semi crouched position…

… While he was getting ready to escape (WTF?) I turned off the burner and moved the pan to a less flammable area- the middle of the kitchen where there are no cabinets or cobwebs (do you know how fast cobwebs burn, YIKES!).
Andy claims he was opening the door so that I may run outside and throw the pan as far as my little person arms could (not far, it probably would have landed at my feet).

I think we need to set up cameras in my house because this for sure would have won us the title of "America's dumbest couple"! We later laughed our asses off because we can't seem to function when no real adults are present (mommy?).

The beans came out great in case you're wondering.

Also, for Angie and Abstract (and even Andy) who feel jipped (Word is saying I should replace *jipped* with *japed* I thought they were joking) because I didn't give more of the story yesterday:

I was helping a MEAN patient with her medical forms since she didn't speak English but then I got a phone call and had to go back in my office to take it. She followed me back to my office (BIG NO-NO) and continued yammering so I had to give her the "hold on a minute" finger but I must have been pissed at her because I used my middle finger instead of the index one. Accidentally of course…

The boob thing, I was wearing a new bra (TMI?) and the girls were not being contained properly so I adjusted them with my back to the door and my front to the window. I couldn't see anybody out there but our office is on the ground level, it faces the parking lot and it's a medical building right on a busy street, during rush hour. I didn't pop them out or anything but if anybody saw me, it was clear I was shoving them into submission.

Okay, I'll talk to you guys later, I'm off to put a frozen pizza in the oven. The kitchen is safe for one more day.

 

P.S.

Why is it that when I try to sound like Gwen Stefani I wind up sounding like Cher but when I try to sound like Cher I sound like Bob Dylan? It's making it very hard for me to sing "Don't Speak" and "If I could turn back time".

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Technorati Tags: Gwen Stefani,Cher,Bob Dylan,Me,Humor-Blogs

Jellyrolls are not just for breakfast anymore.

The following post is RATED R.

No nudity but some flab.

Proceed at your own discretion! Hide the kids. Slap the cat! Smack your boss!
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Ready?


So.. remember I said I was going to try to get in shape? Remember? It was in my insomniac post?? Come on you guys! You have to listen (or read) every once in a while! What if I'm drowning and I need you to fish me out of the bathtub?? Ummm, okay. Call Andy because some of you I don't trust! You KNOW who you are!!

Anyway, I was looking for some pin up girl pictures for umm, research on how long it took Google to produce images (.07 seconds! wow!) yeah, that's it. I came across my perfect pin up picture.
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Don't laugh! That is so disrespectful!
She looks a little taller than me but basically... yeah. I still think my boobs are bigger but you can't have it all.

As I go on my little deflabbing adventure, I will put her in my side bar. Each time I lose a few pounds, I'll narrow her down a bit. Not sure how I'm going to do that but hey! I figure it'll be harder in real life so chopping off a few love handles from Ms. Jellyroll should be a piece of cake! Or, erm, celery! A piece of celery!

Now if I could only find a machine like this one:
I'd wear a little more clothes in case of a friction burn, YIKES!

What I need from you.
Whenever you can, if you remember, I need you to tell me how good I'm looking. Or how you can't even see traces of the chocolate chip cookie I smuggled in my hair.

Encouraging stuff like that.

I will not be starting my workout regimen until Monday because I have some food I need to eat so it doesn't go bad or feel like I'm neglecting it but after that, no sugary, fatty, creamy, delicious, mouth watering... ... ...
What? Did you need something? Can't you see I'm eating a bagel??

Wish me luck! Well, on Sunday I mean. Or now, you can wish me luck now if you want.
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Please stay tuned for the last post I will ever do of my brain dead assistant. I haven't done it because I've been busy at work (don't scoff! I can hear you!) so I haven't been able to type it up while pretending to work. I know, I feel sad for me too.

Later guys! This girl is beat and needs some snuggle time with her Georgie Bear.

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Add an onion and some celery with a side of beef and we have a nice pot roast.

So...
I couldn't sleep again. This is what you get at midnight.

I decided I'm going to start exercising again. I know what you're going to say "Why? You're perfect as you are!"
I know but... or should I say BUTT, I need to try something that will tire my body and hopefully let my brain sleep.

See, right now, I feel like this:
Who the hell styles Mrs. Pothead?? Green shoes and tacky earrings??

I honestly don't like comparing myself to a potato. While I love to eat them, they don't particularly strike me as the type of veggie one thinks to be sexy in nature. Don't look at me like that! You know what I mean!

The carrot however... it's lean, has a nice head of hair, looks like it can bitch slap a potato within seconds... Yup! That's my goal to slim down like a carrot! Hmmm, maybe I'd reverse the look of this picture and have the pointy part as my head... but then I'd have a tail and no hair.

Hold on while I search for a better picture.

Ewww! No!
No. Whatever the bunny does in the privacy of its own home...
What the...??? NO!
After 25 minutes of searching for the perfect picture of a slim carrot with legs, I give up! You have failed me Internet and also made me hungry! But at least now I'm tired.

What was wrong with Mrs. Pothead again? You know, besides her colorblindness and lack of fashion sense.

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More proof of my dumbness plus some movie talk.

So...

I’ve noticed something about myself… I noticed I have issues starting conversations/e-mails/posts. I never know how to start a topic so I’ll just sit there looking at the screen or, in some unlucky people’s cases, their faces, wondering how I can begin talking about something without sounding like I’m waiting for them to finish speaking.

A lot of my posts start with “So…” as evidence above. My e-mails start with “Wzup??” or “hey!” and my live people on people convos start like this “Yeeeeaaah. So, I was thinking…” How lame am I?? Don't I sound like an uneducated goober?? You’d figure that at the grand old age of 35, I would have learned to master interaction with people from my same species! I mean, I talk to my car, my plants and the dogs with an ease that might suggest a mental imbalance but when it comes to people… ::shrug::

I guess it could be worse, I out grew the phase where my greetings were along the lines of “WHADDUP??” or “What’s goin’ on you bugly bastard??”

Anyway, the real reason for this post was to say something about Pride and Prejudice.

I happened to watch it this weekend, not on purpose mind you, it just happened to be on while I was comfortably sitting on the couch with the remote control miles and miles away from my little hands. I tried calling for help but Andy was too busy cackling evilly in the other room. I would have gotten up to get it but it was 11pm and I was exhausted after having walked for 6 hours and gotten sunburned in places the sun knows I’m powerless to protect. MY SCALP. I guess I could have worn a hat but I just look too good in them. I’d feel like I was bragging.

There I was, helpless. I try not to over educate my brain by reading classic novels or watching movies based on them but I had no choice on that sad Saturday night.

I'm surprised to say I liked it. This was the version with Keira Knightly and some guy. At first I didn’t think him to be attractive but there was this scene where it was raining and he was drenched and all I could think was “Yum-O!” but then he dried up and went back to being Plain John. Still, I’d consider him if I had a bucket of water handy at all times.

In that same rainy scene, there was a moment were he’s professing his love and she’s calling him a jag but you could feel the magnetic pull their lips had on each other- which they resisted. I think that was when I decided I liked the movie. Wet hot guy and a non kissing scene.
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A few weeks ago, I watched Roman Holiday. I know the right thing to say is “Ooh! Audrey Hepurn and Gregory Peck! Classic!”

Meh.

That whole thing about a lighter/camera had me and Andy looking at each other in a way two people in sync with each other’s thoughts has “What kind of bull crap is that??”.

How could they be IN LOVE if they’d only known each other for such a short period of time?? Then at the end, they just shake hands? Talk about a waste of an hour and a half! If the people involved with this movie weren’t already dead, I’d go over there and make them do an alternate ending.

This is how it would go:

Paparazzi Guy:
Dude, I got some pics of that princess while she was in the bath! How much do you think they’ll go for?

Gregory P:
Oh, at least 500 bucks. Don’t do anything with them yet. We’ll see if I can blackmail her into marrying me. Why take a golden egg when I can marry the goose?

PG:
Yeah! Then you can appoint me head of espionage! Me and my Zippo lighter will take naked pictures of tons of hotties!

Now we’re at the scene where she wants to meet the reporters. GP slips her the naked pics telling her there’s more where that came from and she’ll have to marry him if he knows what’s good for her (this is old people speak).

And they live happily ever after.

What? That’s how Andy got ME to marry HIM!

P.S.
To all you Internet Explorer haters and Godzilla lovers, I am trying to ween myself off of IE but I find it harder than when I stopped doing crack. Just kidding. I never did crack but I'm sure there's a lot of twitching involved. Help me jeebus!

All I wanna do is zooma-zoom-zoom and a boom-boom.*

Bee's Musings and the muppet brain behind it will be out of the blogosphere for the weekend.

She will be busy reading out loud and cursing [shakes fist in the air!] her dixlicksick brain because she has to re-read a page more than once. What will she be reading?


Breaking Dawn by Stephenie Meyer
As you can see, the book is YOUGE (753 pages)! She managed to read all 3 previous books in one weekend so this one should be a piece of cheesecake.

Why is she starting it so late since the rest of the world read their book last weekend?
Well, she was halfway to Border's on Friday night, when Scarlett received an e-mail from Amazon saying her order had shipped.

The order she had placed months ago and forgot. So she had to wait and wait and wait and waaaaaaait until now to be able to read it. They delivered it on Monday DAMAGED BY THE WAY!!!! (fuckers!) but she knew if she started it, she wouldn't sleep until it was finished and she'd be going to work with stank breath and greasy hair. Sooooo...

At this moment, you are asking yourself 3 things.

1) Why does she always take pictures of things near her terrarium?

Well, that is the only place with proper lighting since she has a special bulb to make her cacti flourish. Yes, she's married to an electrician but he'd rather be a carpenter/plumber/hot-pants-wearer so he keeps her in flashlights.

2) Why should we care if she is going to be away from a computer the whole weekend?

Who else will harass you for free other than your mother?

3) Why is she speaking in the third person?

She doesn't know but it makes her feel giggly in her tummy.

Now get outta here!

P.S.
Don't worry, I'll try to eat something sos I don't pass out!
Oops I broke character whatever! It's hard! I don't know how Rickey does it!

P.P.S.
I will also try to go to a movie. I think Mama Mia has avoided me long enough!

P.P.P.S.
FADKOG, behave yourself while I'm away. No mocking my literary taste in literary stuff. Literary.

One more.

P.P.P.P.S.
Anybody who watched So You Think You Can Dance, did you want to get up and dance along with them? Or was it just me? Anybody? Dan??? I'd tryout next year but um, my shoulder hurts.
HI TRACY!!!!
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And now for some Milton.

Milton and I had a falling out a few weeks back. She decided I turned 15 instead of 35 so in her opinion, I needed to learn a few lessons. Doesn’t matter what the argument was about, what matters is that she was wrong and I was right. Shocking, I know.

Today I took a payment from a patient. I almost never do that because I avoid all patients like I avoid babies covered in poo. I had no choice this time around since I was watching the front desk while CL emptied her bladder.

The patient gave me his $20 co-pay, I slipped it into the designated plastic envelope they keep in the desk, wrote his receipt, wrote it on the visit slip, made a copy of it in triplicate and smudged my thumbprint on the form after I'd dipped it in blood to prove I had taken someone’s cash. In other words, I followed all protocol and SHOULD have been on easy street.

Ah, how the innocent must live such a simple life when not afflicted with Mad Bat Disease.
Why?, you ask, well friend (can I call you friend? or would you prefer Goomba?), when Milton took the envelope to transfer the whopping $20, she misplaced the envelope.

I was then called upon to describe this infamous $20 bill. Did it have any distinguishing birth marks? Tattoos? Any missing fingers? How about the hair color?

This led me to ponder which would be worse, death by cotton ball suffocation, overdose by nasal spray or being talked to death by a one dimensional accountant.

I CAN’T FIND THE DOOR TO MY HAPPY PLACE PEOPLE!!

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P.S.
She found it near the office bathroom. The $20 was exactly as I’d described it. Green with a picture of some dude on the front.

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Things that make me go Hmmmmmm...

I was watching the news last night and they were talking some nonsense about women and menopause (not that menopause is nonsense and I know that when it's my lucky time to GO THRU THE CHANGE I will be all whiny and bitchy and moany and... hey! maybe that's what I've been training for my whole life!).
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I wasn't paying attention because the knitting needles in my ears were distracting me but I found something interesting in the way the news cameras focused on the women in their report.
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When they talk about obesity, they show people's butts, their bellies, their arms but never their faces. This is understandable since they'd face lawsuits from irate chubby peeps.
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When they talk about teenagers smoking or teenagers having sex or whatever else teenagers do that makes me want to stock up on all sorts of birth control, they show them sitting in parks with their backpacks or messenger bags just chillin' never their faces because they're minors.
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When they showed the women regarding menopause? THEY SHOWED THEIR FEET!
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THEIR. FEET.
Sometimes you'd get a flash of knee so you knew the feet were attached to something but what the hell is that about???
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Granted, I wouldn't want crotch shots of random women but what is the purpose of showing their feet?
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As far as I'm concerned, this does not represent menopausal women. This represents their lack of fashion sense and unfortunate choices in picking out shoes but I can't really tell if the woman they just showed is 18 or 55.
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Don't ask me what the menopausal thing was about because I was too busy bitching about the county tax that goes into effect toDAY. Freakin' governMENTAL bastards!
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Luckily, I only live a few miles from another county so take that you butt munchers!
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What the fuck is an Environmental Chemist?? Are we just making up titles now??
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Before you tell me what it is, this guy they interviewed was talking about a hawk's nest they found on some billboard.
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Overheated billboard worker #1:
"Harry! I just found a Hawk's nest on the new Gentleman's Club billboard! It's just beneath the hoochies left tata!"
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Overheated billboard worker #2:
"Don't touch it Ron! We MUST call the Environmental Chemist! He'll know what to do!"
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Environmental Chemist:
"Don't move it!"
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The end.
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I can do that shit!

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My last question:
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Who is stupid enough to text while driving??
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Do you want to die? Why on earth would someone think,
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"I know driving requires me to keep my eyes on the road but I'm sure I"ll be okay if I look away for a couple of minutes to let Donna know I'm running a little late and not to wear that green shirt that makes her look like she's gonna hurl."
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Minutes later...
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"What the...! When did that tree sprout up in front of me??"
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My prayer is that there is always a tree to stop you and not some poor unsuspecting victim that uses common sense while driving, walking, living!
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::sigh::
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Maybe I shouldn't semi-watch the news. (DON'T GET ME STARTED ON THE GUY WHO BOUGHT PUFFER FISH VENOM!)
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I should just go over to Humor-Blogs and get some laughs.
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P.S.
If there are any governMENTALS reading this, I didn't mean you. I meant the governMENTALS in war torn countries. Not you. You know exactly what we need! A good stick in the ass benefits everybody!
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P.P.S.
This post was brought to you with ZERO amounts of coffee. I'm going to get it now, want some?