Suntanned Karate Chop Hand Coming to a Face Smack Near You...

Hey!
How’s it going? You guys good? You feeling happy and comfortable?
Do you have a nice wedge of cheese and some Tequila by your side ready to enjoy and get your cheesy booze on?

Good for you!

How am I, you ask.

Well, I’m not gonna lie to you.

I am angrier than a deformed flea who just got pissed on by a swamp rat! I don’t know what that means but it can't be pleasant.

I am so fucking pissed off I’m having difficulty keeping my Karate chop hand still! My very suntanned Karate chop hand! It just wants to jump up and beat the shit out of anybody stupid enough to cross my path!

DON’T CROSS MY FUCKIN’ PATH!!
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Sorry, I didn’t mean you.
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The moronic bats I work with are driving me to the brink of insanity and I can't afford to get any closer to the edge!!

Anyway, I’m going to try and contain my eruptions throughout this post but, if you all of a sudden see --EARFUCKER!!-- or some odd word where it is not called for, please blame my turrets (which, like Cartman, I wish I had... well, only the awesome random swearing, not the high pitched squeals or twitches).

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I have been lucky enough to meet a lot of cool bloggers since I started this here blog a year ago.
Some of you are as whacked out as I am and others are just along for the ride.
Probably taking bets to see when I will actually crack and my face will wind up on the 7 o’clock news announcing I have stolen all the paper, pencils, staples, folders, etc. from my office and am building a giant ship so that I can travel to all the ports along Lake Michigan (my aspirations are low).
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Some bloggers and I have more of a stalking relationship than others. You know who you are. Those that get e-mails from me saying stuff like “THIS MOFO NEEDS TO BE BITCHED SLAPPED AND I’M JUST THE BITCH TO DO IT!!” or “Tibet hasn’t been freed yet? I could have sworn… ?”

Yeah, real intellectual stuff right?

Today, I’d like to showcase one bloggy friend.
I’ve talked about her before, how I admire her wholesomeness, lack of swears and how she makes OLD MEN cry!

The pay off has been great because I’ve received things in the mail that make me giddy. Recently, Elastic (AKA Melissa my *kin*) sent me a nice little pick me up. Something that would make me laugh, cry, wonder why we live so far and still hope her man will be transferred to a city near me so that we can be BFFs, sitting-outside-the-Tastee-Freeze-with-our-nachos-making-fun-of-the-poor-fools-THAT-GET-IN-THE-WAY-OF-MY-KARATE-CHOP-SUNTANNED-HAND, in real life.

She knows me so well without actually having met me and now I have proof.



See pens? Uh-huh me likey!
See sox? Total Playgirl!


Here is the weird part. Do you see this pen with the girl in the scarlet dress and the flowing hair?

What would you say if I told you that 4 years ago.

I went to a Wizard World Comic Book Convention.

Stood in line outside to get into the Rosemont Horizon renamed Donald Duck Stephenson Conventions Center.

Got myself my little geek (temporary) pass.

Went inside.

Trolled all the little stalls.

Looked at women with massive boobs.

Got hit on by one said woman with massive boobs.

Looked at art from all kinds of peeps.

Finally bought a print I’ve been displaying proudly since.
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Did you just get chills from this awesome coincidence??
To top it off, her daughter was the one to find them and say "Oh my gooossshhhh, that is SO BEE!"!

Unfortunately my blog is rated R so I'm sure she's not allowed to read my thanks.

:o(

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Thank you my Elastic friend and her oldest daughter Sunbum!!

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Look at that, no turrets episodes. The savage beast is at peace.

(FOR HOW LONG?)

Humor-Blogs Subliminal Message.

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

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

I consider myself to be a nice person.

No, really! I AM nice!

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

It = anything that annoys me.

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

Anyway.

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

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

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

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

Who do you think was the bad guy? Me!

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

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

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

THE END OF JULY.

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

Don't make me go over there!

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

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

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

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

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

P.S.

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

I find your desire to kill ME extremely annoying.

I think Andy is trying to kill me!!!

Are you done clapping? No? Okay, I'll give you a couple more minutes... ... ...

Done? Okay. Let's move on shall we?

I really do think he's trying to kill me!

Here was my first clue:

Andy:
Bee, I think I'm going to try changing the oil in you car myself.

Bee:
Why? Jiffy Lube* always does a great job!

Andy:
Don't worry, it's just oil.

Bee: [a frown creasing my smooth brow]
'Kay.

THEN!! CLUE #2

Andy:
Bee, I might as well rotate your tires too. All I have to do is move the front ones to the back, back ones to the front.

Bee:
Uhmmm... I don't think that's a good idea. I mean, what if you miss a couple of lug nuts? You might send my car spinning into the river. When I hit a pothole. While I'm doin' 65 in a 45.

Andy:
Nah, you'll be okay. The river isn't so deep around that area.

Bee: [GENUINE FEAR IN MY EYES]
Can you ask my brother to help you?

CLUE NUMERO TRES!

Andy:
I was thinking I should try changing your brakes too.

Bee: [running to hide my car keys]
No! No no no. Now you've gone to far! You've lost your mind! No.

Andy:
It's no big deal! I talked to some guys that said all you have to do is change the whatsit pads blah blah look like an accident blah blah.

Bee:
Andy? Haven't I been the perfect wife? Haven't I encouraged you in every way possible? We've had some good times, right? WHY DO YOU WANT TO KILL ME?? Won't you miss my constant mocking?

Andy: [scratching his head]
Are you serious or just overreacting?

Bee:
What about when the dogs attack you? Who will save you if I'm ashes are on your night stand?? [I've decided that's where I want to be]

Andy:
Bee! I'm changing the oil, rotating, the tires and changing your brakes. Nothing will happen to you because I obviously pissed off some deity at one time so our lives will be intertwined until the day I DIE!

I have to admit, that was a very compelling argument!
... Still, if you don't hear from me again, maybe you should call the police?



*Jiffy Lube? Seriously?? who came up with that name? K-Y? Maybe if you click on Humor-Blogs we'll get some answer!
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P.S.
I just saw a picture of Burt Reynolds nahhked(from the 70's I think)!! Was his father a gorrilla?? Uh... I meant because he's hairy.

Attack of the gray haired blood suckers... BOO!

-Day 93- Did I scare you? Well that was nothing! I was scared to within one inch of my awesome life today! ONE INCH! And I have many inches on me so that's saying ALLOT! ::sad sigh::

... Anyway, here's my question:

Can I file assault charges if a couple of kooky oldies (not my work oldies, OTHER oldies!)(the world is full of 'em.)(some are nice) tried to bully me into donating my precious blood? Don't they know this blood has been with me since I was a wee little mini Bee?? I'm very attached to it!
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Plus... I AM TERRIFIED OF NEEDLES! By terrified I mean, my blood runs cold, I start to sweat, shake and speak in tongues. To say it's unpleasant would be the understatement of the century.

I walked into the building and a little elderly lady came out of nowhere.
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"Hi! We're volunteering for Z Sources. We'd like you to donate blood today!"
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Just. Like That.
No "Please", no "How you doin'?".
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She didn't even acknowledge the hammer she had just thrown at me. She just kept staring at me with the lipstick-on-teeth-grin and unblinking eyes.

Me:
Sorry, no. I'm deathly afraid of needles. [and watching my blood ooze out of my veins]
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Little oldie:
Oh honey, all you feel is a pinch then nothing!
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Me: [I kept walking]
No, no. I can't do it.
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When I entered the main lobby, I was horrified to see a wall of vampiric elderly people!
They had tables lining the walls. Lining the walls! ::They were everywhere.::
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Right now you're thinking I'm dreaming, sadly I'm not! I was awake and my blood was pooling at my toes!
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Then! I met Future Bee.
She didn't look like me, she was tall and rail thin but... well, you'll see.
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Little oldie: [to Future Bee]
I'm telling her it won't hurt.
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Future Bee: [look of derision]
What? Are you scared?
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Cute and Cuddly Bee:
Frankly, yes!
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Future Bee:
What are you 30? Don't be a baby!
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Reasonable Bee:
Well that argument convinced me... NO.
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Future Bee:
Giving blood is important, don't you care if somebody might need your blood to LIVE?? Don't you want to do something selfless in your life?
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She seriously asked me that!
Hey man, I do stuff for other people! I'm semi-green. I umm... uh... I'm sure there's something else!
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The other people were waiting for the outcome of our showdown. They sensed my fear and wanted my pure blood, they wanted it all!
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I was beginning to think I'd never get to walk thru the office door and touch the stuff on my desk ever again. Luckily, this is what my bat adventures have prepared me for.
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Bee:
I need my blood to live! I know you have all day to argue with me but I have to get to work!
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At which point I ran into the office and slammed the door! Here I thought I'd be on time today!
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Do you think they use the same techniques to train blood suckers as they do to train car salesmen? It's a good thing I'm well aware of my rights to retain my blood!
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I felt happy that I had gotten thru more or less unharmed... unless you count the bathroom trips I had to make with their beedy eyes boring holes into my SOUL!
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P.S.
Someone is threatening to kill Al Pacino in 88 minutes.
Well, he gave us The Godfather I & II. Scarface was overrated and the rest of his movies have been crap so... maybe we can take him out in 10 minutes?
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P.P.S.
Devil's Advocate was good but it would have been better without Al Pacino and Keanu Reeves.

Hump day has arrived

-Day 92-
First, I'd like to say thanks for all the e-mails you sent threatening me if I ever scare you again. (I'm not scaurd!)(much)

Ha Ha Ha! I had my fun! I regret closing the comments because some of your vulgar statements were colorful... to say the least!
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I would like to answer one question:
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"uhm did you spell SWAN wrong on purpose?"
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WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?? THAT'S HOW YOU SPELL SAWN!!
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Anyway, I hope you had a fun April Fool's Day. Mine wasn't too good, aside from the e-mails I mean.
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I decided that on my next meeting with OZ, I might ask for my own office.
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Currently I share the office with Milton, PD, the copy machine, fax machine and the postage meter thing.
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Unfortunately, I sit right next to the copy machine.
My desk is the one with the X:
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Do you see where the copy machine is?

These drawers are where you load paper.



This is the box with extra paper.
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When people bend over to fill the copy machine THEIR BUTT IS IN MY FACE!
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<- X marks the spot where my face would be.

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What I don’t understand is, why point it at me? They can obviously bend over in the opposite direction! Is this their passive aggressive way of telling me I can kiss their ass? Because all I read into that is please KICK my ass!
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Sometimes they point at me when they're just getting extra paper. My camera was too slow so I was unable to give you guys a proper peep shot of the miscreants.

She had bent over to get paper.

Am I overreacting? Let's remember that I work in the office of flatulence!

P.S.

They are revamping Dungeons & Dragons and making it like the other game Andy plays with the Wizards and the Orcs? I thought they had already done that but I was quickly corrected by Andy "Bee, you're thinking of Magic the Gathering!"

No, I can honestly say I wasn't!

Close encounter of the idiot kind.

-Day 84.




Mondays SUCK! If you don’t agree with me, I will go and shave “Bee rocks!” on your head. Are we in agreement? Good!

Anyway, Mondays usually find me hung-over (even though I don’t drink, I still wake up with a fuzzy tongue- I know you want to make THAT joke but if you value your life... nah. Go ahead, pull the trigger.) unwilling to get up, debating whether I NEED to take a shower (the answer is always "YES" by the way), bemoaning my lack of millions of dollars so that I can hire valets that will put all my body parts back together again.

I’m the female, new-age version of Humpty Dumpty. Only my name is Hairy Dumpy. Yeah, I LIKE IT! ***Observation. Word agreed with my spelling of “Humpty” but disagreed with the spelling of “Dumpty” and didn’t give me a spelling alternative, don’t these two go together??

So… where the hell was I? Oh yeah! Mondays.
These are the days my mood is, how shall I put it? At it's most dangerous or SEVERELY UNFRIENDLY. I’m snarly until at least 11:59 pm AT LEAST.

Most people know this and stay away. Some people think they’re from the cat family and keep testing their 9 lives theory. So far, 2 dead 1 confirmed catperson.

I walked into the office, turned on my computer, then went to the kitchen to make coffee.

Scarecrow walks in, obviously knowing I hadn’t had my coffee since I was in the process of making it, not a good sign. I'm even less pleasant, IF POSSIBLE, before my coffee.

Scarecrow: [hovering]
Have you seen Patient X’s chart?

Bee: [maintaining my patience]
Doesn’t sound familiar.

Scarecrow: [not very good at reading warning signs]
I think you had it last.

Bee: [in a half snarl]
HAD would probably be your first clue that I don’t have it NOW.

Scarecrow: [dense head]
I did look on your desk and didn’t find it…

Bee: [looking at her encouragingly]
Okay. Maybe you should try plan “B” and look somewhere else?

Scarecrow: [I've known doorknobs with more intelligence]
I could have sworn you had it.

Bee: [explaining to this middle aged child]
Work with me here, isn’t HAD the past tense of TO HAVE?

Scarecrow: [beginning to sweat]
I was just hoping you put it somewhere else.

Bee: [big eyes, clown face]
Like where? In my car? On a plane? On a train? In a box? With 3 locks?

Scarecrow: [huffy]
Fine. I’ll look somewhere else!

Bee: [singsong voice, arms outstretched, total ham]
In a field of clovers? With a dog named rover?

Scarecrow: [baring her teeth or um... gums]
Forget it.

Bee: [twirling]
In a junkyard? Crap! What rhymes with yard?-

OZ: [Wheezing FROM HIS OFFICE THAT'S NEXT TO THE KITCHEN]
LARD!

Bee: [a little startled that the boss is participating but taking it in stride]
In a junkyard? With a tub of lard?

Scarecrow walks out bumps into OZ as he's walking.

OZ: [shaking his head, wheeze laughing]
No, "In a junkyard? While burying lard?" Sounds better.

Bee: [blushing cuz I'm such a dumbass]
Who buries lard?

OZ: [still laughing]
You can’t dump that stuff down the drain! The lard would clog it!

Here's my question, isn't mine better? A tub of lard instead of burying lard?

I wonder if OZ was always a wise ass or if he got corrupted my lil' ole me.

Well, at least my day got get batter after that.

P.S.

Andy came by the office to pick something up, --looking super hawt in his scruffy electrical wear--, and he had this observation "The receptionist lady (AKA Cowardly Lion) doesn't seem to be too happy with you."

That's probably because I've restricted her peeing to when I deem it is appropriate. To dictate, is to love.

I've gotten mail with what I hope are chocolate stains!

-Day 72. Do not believe yourself healthy. Immortality is health; this life is a long sickness.- ST. AUGUSTINE, Sermons

I was in the middle of putting a proposal together for an attorney and had to stop to blow my nose (I was infected YET AGAIN by the germ carrying gray haired bats), when I realized my germs were going to be stuffed into an envelope and mailed to a suburb near me.

I'm sending my germs to an attorney who has fought with me for 7 months. He deserves to be sniffling, coughing and sounding like Elmer Fud. If you try to make my life uncomfortable, I'll give you a big germy kiss!

I started laughing evilly. BWAHA HA HA-- Then I thought "Wait a sec... Aaaaargh! I get mail too..."

This sent me into convulsions because I thought of all the letters and envelopes that I handle on a daily basis. Papers that go thru my desk coming from one place or another... what were people doing before they sent them to me??? ::Blech!::

What about all the junk mail we get? You can't tell me it's not put together by someone in their basement...

I. Can. No. Longer. Focus.

Nobody send me anything! ... ... Unless it's a winning lottery ticket or money.

I was just punished by Karma! I sneezed and hit publish accidentally. Oops.

I promise not to make you sick if you click on humor-blogs for me.

Square is the new cool. I should know.

-Day 71.

So...

My day consisted of me listening to 6 women complain about their husbands' illnesses. They're all in their 60s so they range from back problems to inability to digest food.

I've heard it all.

Bowel movements, ear wax buildup, enlarged prostrates- the freakin' works people!

This got me day dreaming about the job I had previous to this one.
Where I worked in a cubicle with movable walls.

And I sighed.

Then there was this one time the office skanks were talking about their "dates" and I moved one of my walls so I could be completely enclosed in awesome privacy.

I remembered all this and cried.

Well, not really cried but my upper lip did the sad droopy thing. Okay maybe there was ONE tear.
:'o{

To all you people who hate cubicles I say:

Stop yer bitchin'!!!

The end.

Why steal from hacks? Pick on someone good!

-Day 54. Don't worry about people stealing your ideas. If your ideas are any good, you'll have to ram them down people's throats.- Howard Aiken

So...

There I was, in the middle of the night (9:30 pm-ish), looking for a small used desk on Craigslist, (my accountant will not approve a purchase of a new one for blogging purposes, he also doesn't care that my booty becomes numb, my back and neck ache from sitting on our uncomfortable art deco couches because the only spot for my laptop is on the coffee table, while he is on his comfy throne in his dungeon) (and by dungeon, I mean place where he keeps his gaming computer, comic books, dolls khhrrm uh... ACTION FIGURES, salt water aquarium, electric guitar, etc. etc.) But I'm not bitter.

Anyway, as usual, my attention is jumping from here to there (me, shoes, desk, shoes, blogs, shoes, me) when I decide to Technorati myself. Why? Because I'm vain.

That's when I saw it. Somebody took my Valentine's post and put it up as their own.

Well, techinically they just took my title, the anonymous quote I found and the Savage Chicken cartoon. Still, I worked damn hard on that post!

Hold on, I don't remember what it was about, let me go check it out real quick. Uh... okay, I didn't work that hard on it but the title... I was so proud of the title: Day of Masacre and Love ♥.

This chick even used the same font! Because I'm about as computer litierate as an ant hill, I can't tell if she linked me. If she did sorry(ish) if she didn't for shame!

My spirit is broken! Please click on Humor-Blogs and make me smile.

Profanity edited (somewhat), nobody needs to hear that from a "lady".

-Day 52. I have some road rage inside of me. Traffic, especially in L.A., is a pet peeve of mine.- Katie Holmes (Ah! Another thing Katie Holmes and I have in common besides our "love" for weird mind controlling freaks visionaries! ::sigh::)
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Shit! Does anybody else have Prince’s “Controversy” in their head? Please help me get it out!
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Okay, so I know you’re tired of hearing about my bad freakin’ weather. I know it because you’ve e-mailed to tell me how people in Oregon got like 20 feet of snow or something equally disastrous.
You’ve also e-mailed me to tell me about places that are not prepared for freezing cold winters and are now having issues with living, as in they’re dying. Yes. I get it. I’m a complainer but that shouldn’t surprise you, right?

Since you love hearing about it so much, here is a DETAILED description of my hazardous drive in to work on Wednesday.

DETAILED BUT WITH ONLY SOME SWEARS.

8:10-8:12 AM (yes, I realize I start at 8:00 AM)
Step out the back door and slide to the garage, crash into the garage door that froze midway up, hadn’t noticed it was frozen because I was looking down at my feet which were doing a cool little backwards figure 8 on the icy driveway. (If you have to ask me what a backwards figure 8 is, just click away right now.). Luckily, me whacking the garage door made it work so it opened the rest of the way. My shoulder now needs surgery.

8:13-8:16
Zig zag down the driveway, zig zag down the side street. Oh, here comes an asshole that lacks proper “Street has shrunk due to ice and snow therefore I will not go down the middle of the street taking up precious space so that one Awesome Little Bee has to scrape the side of her car on a huge wall of snow” etiquette.
Don’t worry, my car is fine. In fact I’m going to nickname it my “Mini Tank”.

8:16-8:20
Trying to get onto one of the 2 major roads that will deliver me to my hell. Can’t see very well over the snow. Okay, here’s my chance! Now I’m behind a man that’s going 10 miles an hour on a 40 mile per hour road. It’s taking me 3 minutes to get to the other major street instead of my usual 30 seconds. So what if the roads are icy! That’s why God invented airbags! Great! Now I missed the right turn green arrow (a green arrow is just a precautionary sign telling me I have 20 seconds before oncoming traffic plows into me, and not in a good way)

8:21-8:26
Okay! Here’s my chance! I’ll just go right after this Monster Wheel Truck!
BAD MOVE! Bad bad bad move.
This guy has his hoopty all pimped out in tires TALLER THAN ME (not to mention splashing me with cruddy mud) with 2 tail pipes blowing steam right on my windshield!
It’s bad enough the sun’s glare is blinding me, now I have this fog I can’t see thru.

Okay, deep breath, just concentrate on not hitting a 5 foot deep pothole (a pothole is a ginormous crater native to places with bad weather and/or bad hygiene, they are considered armed and dangerous with many reports of people going missing after falling in one.)
I’m gripping the steering wheel, squinting, stretching my neck, sliding on the icy road, bumping as I hit the potholes when I realize I just invented the next big fad in dance steps:
Grip, Squint, Stretch, Slide-Slide Bump-Bump
Coming soon to a club near you! (or disco as Jean Knee and Brian call them [::snicker::])

Anyway, I’m almost in the clear, I just have to get passed two overpass bridges without leaving a part of my car as a “Bee was here” reminder. Okay. almost there. Steady. Steady. WHAT THE FUCK!!! Out of nowhere, a blue beemer gets into my lane!

Oh no he didn’t just cut me off!! My car fish tails, but not really because it was more of a fish head shimmy, I have to regain control of my Mini Tank so I don’t wipe out the cement blocks that hold the overpass up, knocking down all life forms crossing over to the Highway.

Ya see, the reason this butt munch cut me off is, he thought they were doing construction on the street thereby shutting down one lane. He felt the need to merge into my icy lane within inches of me when the reality is, there are TWO distinct lanes!
Yeah, I honked but this did not help my aggression go away. I should have followed him to his place of business and/or crack house and slapped him a few times to make myself feel better but I was already late for work. (No more following fuck-wit crack whores and slappin' them around. I think there's a law somewhere that says that. I think.)

8:27-8:30
I Parked my Mini Tank, slid thru the parking lot, crunched the salt on the entryway to the office building, ran to the time clock and punched in at 8:28.
What?
Yeah, the clock in my car is wrong so all these times are 2 minutes fast.
So?

I hear you laughing at me! I'll forgive you if you clicky.

P.S.
Don't ask me why I didn't move into the other lane away from the Monster Truck, the left lane is filled with other hazards and obstacles, mainly oncoming traffic not recognizing they are in the wrong lane going the wrong way. I'd rather take my chances with human eating potholes and moving overpasses rather than have a head on collision with a blind nut job. But that's just me.

P.P.S.
I really did edit my profanity. The thoughts in my head were way way worse!

Back to our regularly scheduled program... sort of.

-Day 51! OH MY LORD! I'm hyperventilating!! Diesel at Mattress Police Antisocial Commentary did a post about the controversy! It's like Angelina Jolie saying she likes my style! Same feeling! The same!

Did you guys just call me a kiss ass?!?! Okay.

Thanks to everyone for mocking the mocker. You guys love me! Or at least don't hate me too much. Give yourselves a high five. Harder!

Moving on.

Elderly Reactions to my hair:

Milton:
“Oh. Wow! Interesting.”

Translation:
You just overloaded my brain.

Glynda:
“It looks great!”

Translation:
I wish I could be you. (Come on now, we all know it's true!)

Scarecrow:
“I love it!”

Translation:
Phew! I thought my alcoholic mind was making me see things! (I know that was mean of me but I really don’t care)

Cowardly Lion:
[She chose to ignore me, my soul is still crying.]

Translation:
I won’t acknowledge you until you let me pee freely! (I hope that goes on my tombstone)

PD [on loan from the Louvre, she has decided to work alternating weeks]:
“Well, will you look at that? When did you do this? … … Cute.”

Translation:
You are a heathen devil's spawn and I can’t believe I have to sit across from you for 3 days before I’m off for another week and a half! (Yeah, she is such a bitch!)

Toto:
“Oh how cool!”

Translation:
Where’s my dog treat?

Tin-Man:
“Don’t let my wife see you because she’ll want your hair!”

Translation:
“Don’t let my wife see you because she’ll want your hair!”

The best was OZ:
[Does a double take as he sees me walking by. He pages my extension.]
Bianca, can you come in here for a moment.

[once I get there]

I couldn’t believe my eyes! What’s next tattoos and piercings? I’m going to do my mine pink.

Me:
Blue, you should do yours blue.

OZ:
You look sharp!

Seriously, he said I looked sharp! Ha! I haven’t said that since I was about 15 or 16. He tries to talk in “young people’s language” I don’t even understand the young ‘uns! You know, because I’m old.

Okay, business time:

Please click on Humor-Blogs.
Later Dudes!

Day of Masacre and Love.♥

-Day 45. I don't understand why Cupid was chosen to represent Valentine's Day. When I think about romance, the last thing on my mind is a short, chubby toddler coming at me with a weapon.- Author Unknown

Well it’s V-Day again. In honor of today, I’ve decided to write a little love letter at the end of this post.
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The next segment is called:

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Stupid is as stupid does. 4 Parts.

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STUPID
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[while using my teddy bear Santa pen]
Toto:

You know Christmas passed right?
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Bee:
No I didn't, I’m glad you told me! Old must be contagious!
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STUPIDER:
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[after taking my Lean Cuisine out of microwave]
Scarecrow:

Does it get very hot?
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Bee: [rolling my eyes]
No, it makes it colder.
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STUPIDEST
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CL the receptionist:

Are you trying to degrade me by not letting me go to the bathroom?
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Bee: [I looked up perplexed, hadn't even noticed her come into the Business Office because I was, you know, working.]
Wha-huh?
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CL:

Do you think I like coming over and asking you if I "may" go to the bathroom as if I were a child asking teacher?
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Bee: [after taking her argument into consideration]
While I AM pretty awesome and have many super powers, detecting when your bladder is full is not one of them.
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[CL huffs out so I get up to give her the rest of my wise and sage advise (did you just say wise-ass? okay.)]
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Bee:

Unless you know a better way, other than me checking you with a dipstick, the only thing my simple mind can come up with is YOU telling ME you have to go to the bathroom.

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Stupidest of all:

Me.

I'm upset I didn't think of the whole "withholding potty breaks" as a social experiment in my constant war against the bats. I must be slipping in my old age! What? Christmas is really over??

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Here is my love letter:
♥Burgundy is the color of L-O-V-E
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How did I ever function before you came into my life?
If I were to be stranded on a highway, I could use you as my lifeline.

You wake me up in time to be late for work.
You remind me of people’s birthdays and movies I want to see.
You tell me about the weather and how to get places.
You let me watch shows I’ve missed and keep me updated on my bloggy friends.
It was love at first sight even though all I saw was a picture.

When I saw you up close and personal it was better than my dreams.
You go with me wherever I go, even when I take a shower you are by my side.

Your sweet tune makes me realize people love to talk to me.
And even though you cost me a few weeks of my allowance, buying you was totally worth it!

My ♥ will never be the same.

I love you my new Blackjack II in Burgundy.

Bee ♥s B2B 4-ever!

Who'd you think it was gonna be for? Andy? ;o)

Yeah, I suck at writing love letters cuz I'm not the mushy type.

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<- Please click<-

The Count likes to what??

Day 40.

So...
I had a craptacular day Friday and I don't have the energy to find the humor in it tonight. Maybe tomorrow.
Please watch these videos I found on The Poke Show.

You will never be able to look at The Count the same again!
The second one is some dude (or dudette) putting subtitles (wrong subtitles) on an Indian video. I dedicate that one to Jean Knee.

A Ninja is always prepared. Oh, wait. Is that the Boy Scouts?

-Day 37. Every year, when spring comes, my mind goes to one place and one place only, Ninjas. Every time you read about Ninjas attacking somebody or assassinating some public figure, it seems to happen in the spring. I’m not sure why, it’s just the way it is.- Dwight Schrute


Okay so… things here at Arkham have been a little strange since Glynda came back. She herself came back quieter, no longer her bubbly self.
It’s almost like we’re in a different dimension or parallel universe where we walk on the ceiling and sit on the walls. Or do you function the same way if you’re in a parallel universe but just act differently?
Look, I don’t KNOW okay! I haven’t read enough Andy comics to answer that question. All I know is that things went from Hell to Limbo in a week and a half time period.

“Well that’s not so bad”, you say? Quiet!
I can deal with Hell since I’ve had practice over the years of dodging balls of fire.
That is. What I. Know.

Everybody seems to be walking on egg shells which is making us edgy.
Listen (or read) to these examples:

Since Purple Dino-SOUR is out of the office until TWO THOUSAND AND TWELVE, I figured I’d relieve Cowardly Lion for lunch. Here is what transpired:

Bee:
1 o’clock good for you?

CL:
Sure

Quick, easy, to the point.

I went to lunch had my grilled chicken caesar Lean Cuisine, very yummy!
Read about more jobs being outsourced to India. Got mad. Angrily threw newspaper into recycle bin (even when angry I remember to recycle). I will not discuss my opinion about call centers being moved to India and taking another set of jobs out of our hands and therefore fucking up our economy even further! I will not discuss this because my blog is not about politics or serious world issues. It is about me and my dark shadows!

::breathe::

Anywho. I came back from lunch and was accosted by Milton.

Milton: [all huffed up]
I called dibs on relieving CL today!

Bee: [mellow baby]
Okay, whatever.

Milton: [huffy puffy]
Didn’t she tell you?

Bee: [peace baby, peace]
No, but if you want to relieve her better for me.

Milton: [huffty duffty]
I talked to her this morning and told her I'd do it today because tomorrow I won’t be able to because blah blah hinkle dinkle tapioca pudding.

Bee: [on an exhaled rainbow sigh]
I. said. it. was. okay. Bet.ter. for. me.

Milton: [Huffin' and puffin']
I just--------

I don’t know what else she said because I blasted my iPod and listened to Her Ornament by The Verve Pipe. She stopped talking when I sang out "I just want to be her ornament!!" in my beeutiful singing voice.

See what I mean? Only in a parallel universe can someone FIGHT to relieve the receptionist! I hate being up there! Why would I object to Milton doing it?

LATER IN THE DAY:

CL: [transferring me a call]
Attorney so and so is on line 2.

Before I can say 'thank you' she slams the phone down. About an hour later another call comes thru.

CL:
So and so’s office line 1. [slams phone again] ---Strike two bitch! My peaceful self was now gone---

Later later in the day, as I’m walking down the hall I hear:

CL:
Bianca. Bianca? [slams phone] That’s all I need, now I have to go LOOK for her!

Bee:
Or you could just transfer it and let my voicemail pick up... that is your job right?

CL [jumps 300 feet in the air.]:
Oh, there you are! I was just going to go look for you [fake smile] you have a call…

[I was going to say 3 feet but honestly, the look on her face showed she would have jumped 300 feet if not for the fact that there’s a ceiling. And then other pesky floors on top of that that got in her way.]

Bee: [fake smile back but showing coolatude, cuz I'm cool.]
I heard. Once I take this I think we need to have a sit down with Glynda.
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Why don't they learn their lessons? I’m always catching them in the middle of talking shit about me and I never slink away! I always call them on it. Shouldn’t they know by now that my mad stealth-like ninja skillz will never give my presence away?

I took my call. I found Glynda and asked her if we can discuss the failings of one obnoxious receptionist.

Glynda’s response was to get up, go to the receptionist and say:
CL, your job is to answer the phone and handle the calls. DO your job. [walks away]

End of pow wow.

Normally this would make me laugh and laugh for days and then remember it months later and laugh some more. Why did I not find this even remotely amusing? Is there something wrong with my funny bone? Will I need a transplant? What would the transplant be called Kathygriffinectomy? Grouchomarxabotomy? Seinfeldologicaltransferectomy?

CL, not at all happy, comes and asks me what my problem is and she's almost hyperventilating.
Bee:
I guess I just wanted to understand why you get so angry because you have to transfer BUSINESS calls. I could understand if they were personal calls but they’re not. Does it suck that they’re too lazy to dial my extension? Yes, but that IS what you’re here for.

CL:
[stomps off into the sunset with something up her butt.]

It's people like her that make dumbass businesses send phone calls to be answered half way around the world. That's right, let's blame CL for the economy going down the tubes.

That’s how it’s been since Glynda came back. Every time we go to her with any issues she shrugs and basically says “deal with it”.

Here’s my question, if it’s left up to me to “deal with it” is the company liable for any uh… let’s call them “accidents” I may cause? Maybe I can plead insanity…

If you'd like me to "deal with it" please click on humor blogs.

I am the eggman, I am the teaspoon! Cooca looca choo!

Day 32. -I recently read that love is entirely a matter of chemistry. That must be why my wife treats me like toxic waste.- David Bissonette

So...
Somebody sent me an e-mail sayin' they love me and want to be me and are envious of my relationship with my one and only Andy.
This question was asked: "do you guys ever really argue?"...
... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...
Of course we argue.

He and I come from two completely different backgrounds therefore have only our love of cheese in common. (Both edible and bad acting)

He was born with the stability of a 2 parent household.
I was born with the stability of a kick ass mom and instability of an absent father who liked the IDEA of children (as child labor*) but never wanted the responsibility of raising ONE much less 4 half monkeys and one awesome demigoddess (me).
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Andy lived in the same house from about the time he was born till the day we got married.
I, on the other hand, have lived more places than a nomad tribe looking for greener pastures or hilly mountains or CASCADING water or whatever it was they looked for... I never really paid much attention in my history classes due to the fact I was too busy fixing my hair.

We were both the first born but he only has one sibling where I have the above referenced 4 half monkeys.

Strangely, one of the things we do have in common is that we were Jehovah’s Witnesses when we were younger.

Scary isn’t it? (Not that there’s anything wrong with being a JW, if that cult floats your boat it's fine by me) (I mean that in the most loving of ways and not disrespectful at all) (please send all complaints to my boss at seriouslywhogivesacrap@gmail.com) (do you realize I had to stop what I was doing so that I could grab that e-mail address and make it my own? who-gives-a-shit was taken. Sad.)

Anyway, the reason for that brief glimpse into our past is because we have two very different ideas of life and family.

When we first got married, he couldn't understand why I had to hang out with my monkey peeps all the time (they lived in the 2 downstairs flats) and why we needed to talk to each other everyday.

We don't argue about that anymore since he has now been absorbed into the Cor-clan but other petty little grievances have taken its place. See this post. Also please see this post.

For example, if I leave the fan on in the bathroom, it's my fault the temperature drops by 20 degrees in there.
The ginormous window has nothing -NOTHING- to do with it.

If he can't find his wallet, I must have stored it in the the worm holes FADKOG is afraid of because it's nowhere to be found.

If Mocha decides to bark her little head off at him for no other reason than its' 6 o'clock, it's somehow my fault because I control her mind and make her do my bidding while IN another room or asleep or while shopping for shoes and not even in the house.

One of the things that irritate me (and there are many) is the whole spooning thing.

You see, here is my theory. People like to spoon which is okay, whatever, nice bonding moment before you fall asleep.
HOWEVER!
He is a tablespoon and I am a teaspoon.
This makes the logistics of me being comfortable IMPOSSIBLE!
Please see picture below.


I wish I could bulk up the teaspoon cuz no way am I that skinny but I didn't have any bacon to build a little fatty suit (cuz I ate all the bacon so that I can add to my real life fatty suit).

As you will notice, we are not from the same set since we are not from the same species.

He is a Martian and I am the Goddess Venus.
Do you see how awkward it would be to spoon?


Sure, the Tablespoon has no issues but the wee little teaspoon wakes up all discombobulated!

Please join the "Free the Teaspoon Campaign"!
So yeah, long story short [snicker], we do argue but we have a sense of humor about our fights.

*True story but Brother Dan will probably get mad at me for posting it on the Interworld Wide Web

Please click for the Teaspoon!

Here's a long one for ya'! ::grabs crotch::

Day 30.
Question.
How many times does a flatulent Scarecrow come and ask about the weather?
Answer.
Eleven and that's only because I drew a picture of a sunny window so she could stay the hell out of the business office!
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****Heads up! This is a very long post because I had a very long day. You can read it in 2 parts if you want. I won't get mad. I promise tomorrow will be 13 words or less.****
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This is an indicator that your day might turn out to be a huge pile of smelly garbage.

If you are merrily driving to work, singing some nonsense pop tune at the top of your lungs, then you notice a garbage truck get in your lane.
Unfazed, you keep singing about gum drops and lollipops when ALL OF A SUDDEN a wet plastic bag full of lord knows what flies out of the back of the truck and lands on your windshield.
<-Bee's car under that.
If this happens to you, cross over to the opposite lanes without caring how many accidents you cause and just go home!
Just go home!
Don’t bother going to work because you will, mostly likely, have the equivalent of a wet plastic bag with crap smeared all over your face. Yeah, I speak from experience.
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As you may (or not) be aware, Glynda went AWOL all of last week. She quit.
When somebody quits, does their work end? No. That means someone else has to do it, right? Am I wrong? I didn’t think so.

When that someone decides to come back and finds some of her work was done in her absence, should she say thank you and move on or should she act like an asstard and try to rip the other person’s hair out?

Seriously, I want to know.

I need to know what the work etiquette is because I don’t want to have to go to the Hair Transplant Center for Women at the early age of 35. Maybe if/when I’m 65, sure.

For today's post we will refer to her as Glynda the Bad Bitch instead of the Good Witch but just for today, unless she continues her behavior. Then we'll just have to find another name for her.
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The shittacular day was threatening to suffocate me so I decided to go put gas (or PETROL) in my car, at $500 a gallon, during my lunch break. You know, before the ice/snow 30 degree temp drop descended upon us later this evening. Oh, excuse me, I stand corrected. Gas prices have dropped so now they’re only at $499.99 a gallon.

Anyway!

The gas station is only half a block away so there I go Tra-La-La-La…
There, in the middle of the street walking at a turtle pace, is a flock of geese trying to get to a patch of grass.
This is obstacle number one.

After they’re nice enough to get the hell out of my way, another garbage truck blocks the narrow two way street. The driver says “I’ll be just a minute honey.”
Obstacle number two makes my eye twitch for many reasons, I don’t like to be called honey by random strangers and I'm still pissed because of my earlier experience with the first garbage truck from hades.

The gas station is packed since everybody and their winged grandmas wants to fill up before the storm.
Okay, I can deal with obstacle number 3 and wait my turn.
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Finally, one opens up and I pull in.
What happens next will go down in the history of “Worst experiences at a gas station" moments in my life (I’ve had a few).

The donkey’s ass behind me decides he’s going to yell at me for not pulling into the OTHER pump.

Being the submissive little woman that I am, I get out of the car and say “I drive a Hyundai genius! Why would I WANT to put DIESEL in it???” the guy started yelling something I couldn’t understand.
I’m assuming he’s saying that if we were in his country, he would have me stoned, and not the good kind of stoned where we all hang out and see magical colors.
I flip the guy off and tell him to go do a special deed with himself (because I'm such a classy lady) and he drives off.
I pull out a squeegee (isn't squeegee a funny word?? Squeegee squeegee sssssqueegeeeeeee) and proceed to clean off the gunky remains from whatever was in the plastic bag.
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Little did I know my friend was just doing a lap around the lot and coming back to where I was.
I’d finished pumping by then but now it’s a battle of wills and there’s no way I’m letting him use the pump just yet, because I’m mean like that, so I decided to mosey into the store and buy myself a nice chocolate bar. Or maybe some twisty BBQ Fritos mmmm!
Ho-Hum I can’t decide. Out of the corner of my eye I can see the guy standing by his car gesticulating wildly (side note, I love the word gesticulate, it sounds so articulate, I also like the word articulate).
I