More Asylum woes… to the nose…

Me to myself “Okay, Bee, today is Tuesday. You got through Monday without any threats to first degree homicide anybody so you can get through Tuesday! You can do it! You can do it! YOU CAN DO IT!!”

Just then Glynda walks in: I need to inform everybody that Scarecrow has herpes of the mouth. She is not at the moment contagious but she will be once it starts weeping so be careful with the things you touch.”

Me: Uhhhhhhh why is she here and not under bio-hazard arrest?

Glynda: ::shrugs::

Because that is what we always expect from management, a fucking shrug!

Me: Can you make sure she doesn’t go around touching everything in sight? Maybe sticks to the phone in her X-Ray room?

Glynda [another fucking shrug]: Just don’t touch your mouth/eyes/nose.

Do you guys know how hard it is to keep from tapping your lips when you’re thinking? I mean, I’m not saying I rely solely on this method to coax answers outta my brain but it is a habit, I have to tap-tap-tap my fingers over my lips as if I was playing a flute.

Me: I don’t mean to sound insensitive but it’s just that I went all these years trying not to catch any type of crazy diseases so I’m a little worried!

Glynda: You’ll be fine as long as you disinfect your hands every time you come back to your desk. Try really hard not to touch your face.

Do you guys know how badly a nose starts itching once it knows (pun pun pun!) you can’t touch it?

Scarecrow, I don’t know what you did to get herpes of the mouth but I hope it was worth it!

My work friends are cooler than your work friends!

Scarecrow to Me: When I run out of Vicodin, I pour water in the bottle the pills came in and drink it. You'd be surprised how much pill dust is still in there!

 

Me: ::blink blink:: I think you have a problem.

 

Scarecrow: I don't! It's not like I'm pouring Gin in there!— BWAHAHAHA! I think I just invented a new shot!

 

 

 

Nope. She definitely doesn't have a problem.

3 Scoops of crazy

So, yesterday was a quiet day at the Asylum. OZ is on vaca which means no Tinman, patients or URGENT ISSUES THAT NEED TO HAVE BEEN TAKEN CARE OF YESTERDAY. Cowardly Lion took a vacation day too so it was just Milton, Glynda, Scarecrow and I in the office. I didn’t think anything could possibly go wrong or “Asylum-y” because how much can happen when there are only FOUR people in the office?

Well…

Milton: I was going to make coffee but I realized you were the only coffee drinker in today. [pause] [clears throat] [stares at me]

Me: And?

Milton: Well, I was wondering if you just wanted to walk to the gas station [clears throat] and buy yourself a coffee instead of me making a [clears throat] whole pot just for you.

Me: So, instead of having free coffee that doesn’t involve me leaving the office, you want me to trudge through the mud and pay for my coffee? No. I think I’ll go with option easy and have the office coffee. I can make the coffee if it’s too much trouble!

Milton: No, it’s not just that. I don’t see why we should make a whole pot when you’ll only have about 2 cups. [pause] [clears throat] [stares some more]

Me: Uh, can you just make 4 cups instead of 12?

Milton: Would you drink all 4 cups? [sits down and fires up her electronic calculator] Because I guess I can figure out how many scoops I’d have to use for 4 cups. [calculator noises] If we normally use 3 scoops for 12 cups [calculator noises] are you sure you can drink all 4 cups [calculator noises] because I can make 2 cups [calculator noises] after I figure out how many scoops I’d need for 4 cups [calculator paper feed noise]

… in the meantime, I had written down a big number *ONE* on a piece of paper and was waiting patiently for her to turn around…

Milton: I would have to use one scoop for 4 cups…

I flashed her the big number ONE I had written down.

Milton: If you knew that, why didn’t you tell me!

Me: you didn’t give me a chance!

Milton: I’ll just make half a scoop worth of coffee so it won’t go to waste.

Me: Will you make all 4 cups if I promise to lick every single drop out of the coffee pot? Even the condensation from the steam on the top of the machine?

Milton: There’s no call for such exaggeration!

Me: I’ll even squeeze all the liquid out of the coffee grounds.

Milton: Hurmpf! [stalks out of the room to make coffee]

I’ll be honest, at that point, I was over the need for coffee since I had just gotten my Asylum wake up call. What I really wanted was a big steaming cup of GETMETHEHELLOUTTAHERE!

And now, just for you jean knee, some Milton!

So, as some of you may know, Milton is Arkham Asylum's *female* accountant (I'm pointing out that she's female because I gave her a male name and people always call her *he* or *him* and she's not either). As a person, I like her very much and she's been to my house and we've done yard sales and also skipped hand in hand through a field of daisies. Sometimes, however, she has me questioning God's plan.

Anyway, tomorrow (or if you're reading this on Friday it's today and if you're reading this 6 months from now it was 8/20 and if you're reading this in the future, pick me out the winning lottery numbers) is her birthday so as is tradition here in the Asylum, she had to bring her cake in on Thursday (because everything is celebrated on Thursday due to the fact that OZ is in surgery and therefore does not make an appearance).

We prepared the cake by lighting the candles and then waited for her to walk into the kitchen so we could *surprise* her with the cake she brought in. When we saw her shadow rounding the corner, we yelled out "surprise" and sang Happy Birthday (I did a little dance for her too. Luckily there is no video evidence of this tomfoolery!) and then we waited patiently while she cut the cake.

Well, "waited patiently" may be exaggerating a bit because the cutting of the cake took a FREAKIN life of its own!

Please, come in and observe.

Milton [as she sticks knife in cake]: Oh dear! I went slightly off center.

Me, Cowardly Lion, Scarecrow, Toto (and the new addition to the team, uh, we'll call her Lucy and I'll tell you about her another time)(hopefully): ::unbelieving stare::

Milton: I think I will cut it in 4 pieces first and then divide it from there. [stands back to take a better look, in the meantime, the knife is at a 789 degree angle, in the cake]

Me: I don't care if my piece is lopsided. I'll just eat it with my head tilted at an angle so that will even it out.

Milton [squinting, looking for imaginary lines]: No, I'll slide the knife a little to the right and it should be fine. [slides knife and stands back again to inspect the results][I AM NOT EVEN MAKING THIS SHIT UP!]

Me [I put my hand on the knife's handle]: Uhm, how about I just cut the cake so we can get on with the eating?? I NEED SUGAR! [okay, I probably didn't need it because I was already all buzzed up on the 'feine ]

Milton [slaps my hand away]: Hey! At least I'm not doing what I do at home!

Me: I'm afraid to ask . . .

Milton [looks at me and adjusts her glasses]: I use a tape measure, of course!

Me, Cowardly Lion, Scarecrow, Toto and Lucy: ::unbelieving stare, mouth wide open::

Milton [looks at us with a serious smile]: Who wants the first symmetrical piece?

Bonding time at the Asylum. Also, I learn what lycanthropy means.

I was walking down the hallway at the Asylum last week, on my way to get a refill on sweet sweet coffee, when Glynda stopped me to ask how much weight I'd lost so far. I let her know I was yo-yoing between 22 and 24 because the weekend usually had me stuffing my face with yummy things so I'd gain 2 pounds and then I'd lose them during the week.

While we were talking, Toto and Scarecrow had gathered around me and each one was commenting on how great I looked. I told them that it was because I was wearing jeans, rare casual days at the Asylum are one of the few perks we have, and that I happened to find a great fit.

We talked some more about my plans to keep losing weight.

Me: I haven't been working out but hopefully Andy will join the gym and we can go together. The only thing is that I have to make him wear blinders so that he doesn't drool over the hot chicks in their tiny spandex outfits. [I said jokingly]

Glynda [looking completely surprised]: Why would he look at other women when he has you?

. . . I have received many compliments and encouraging words from my brothers and their wives, my sister, my mom and coworkers and I have appreciated every single one of them but that, by far, was one of the nicest things anybody has ever said to me.

Me: Thank you! But my husband is like every other husband. He wouldn't notice if I grew a second nose. I can reenact that scene in Fried Green Tomatoes where Kathy Bates makes an outfit for herself out of plastic saran wrap and wears nothing underneath because she's hoping to spice things up with her husband and all he says is "What's for dinner?" as he walks away. Only, in my case, he would ask, "Did you feed the dogs?".

We all laugh.

Glynda: I find that hard to believe! You remind me of one of those curvy pin up girls! Andy better watch out or some guy is gonna come up and swoop you away!

Bee: ::blushes:: Uh thanks. I really don't think he feels any threat whatsoever, though. I think he'd be more shocked like "Huh? Does that guy need glasses?"

Glynda: Well that's not very nice.

Me: I'm kidding! I'm sure he'd be upset. I mean, who would help him pay the mortgage? ::winks::

Toto: My husband once said that the only way he wouldn't look at other woman is if he was blind or dead.

Scarecrow: I can't take mine to the pool without having to tell him to stop staring! I don't do that with the young men in the pool!

Me: ::shrugs:: Listen, we're wired different. Our men can lose their hair and have barrel beer-bellies but for some reason we view them the same way as when we dated. I think it's because we don't have that appendage that sticks straight up that acts like a homing device when we see something we like.

We all nod.

Glynda: My husband keeps talking about that woman who was in the news? The one that was video taped in her hotel room (Erin Andrews) and says he'd like to see that video. Men are pigs.

Me: In all honesty, we have to give them a break. It used to bother me too but then (after an epiphany) I thought about it logically. When I go to the movies, do I drool over this guy:

or this guy?:

Glynda [nodding]: That makes sense. You know who I think is really cute? Mathew McConaughey.

Me [thumbs up]: Great taste! I know Scarecrow has a thing for Zac Effron.

Scarecrow: He has some nice abs!

Me: Very very nice abs!

Toto: ::rolls her eyes:: I need another man like I need another hole in the head! I really like Paul Newman, though.

Scarecrow: Paul Newman is dead!

Toto: I know that! I didn't say I was attracted to him in his current state! [thinks] I guess Brad Pitt isn't too hard to look at.

Me: You see? We're not blind or dead either! The difference is that we are not vocal about who we find attractive and they are.

Glynda [still upset that my marriage isn't any different than hers]: Well, I know for a fact my husband would be ogling you.

Scarecrow & Toto: Mine too!

Me [looking for the exit]: Awww that's sweet! Weird, but sweet. Don't worry about me though because I have people like you guys boosting my ego every day.

 

::sigh:: Marriage doesn't get any easier, I guess. This is discouraging because it seems like their husbands are no longer being discreet in their fascination with women and make their wives all too aware of what they "lack". I don't understand why they wouldn't want to make the women they "love" happy by simply saying something nice about them.  It doesn't take too much of an effort to compliment your significant other, so why is it such a chore? I can guaran-damn-tee that if one of their husbands were to say something simple like "Your eyes look really blue* today!" or "I love your smile" they would have these women feeding them grapes while fanning them with palm leaves!

I don't know about you, ladies, but I'm constantly telling Andy how good he looks. I don't do it because I want him to return the favor. I do it because I want him to feel good about himself and know that after all these years, I still think he's a hottie. On the flip side, maybe I'm just wasting my time because he may think it's weird since men obviously do not need that type of everyday encouragement.

Oh well! Too much thinking for one day!

I take satisfaction in the fact that I helped release 3 cougars to the wild because if you can't beat 'em, join 'em!

Want to touch. THE HINEY!!

 

 

*Blue only works if their eyes are actually blue. If they're brown don't say blue m'mkay?

P.S.

Lycanthropy is in She Wolf's lyrics and when I was singing the song, in my head because people would die otherwise, I was like "Apocatherapy? Lycratherapy?" so I googled the lyrics and now I'm shocked by Shakira's smarts.

Reactions to Purple Dino-SOUR's retirement, a timeline:

Tuesday, day of her announcement:

Purple Dino-SOUR: It's time for me to retire so that I may enjoy the last few years of my life.

Glynda: Now we can fill the position with someone who really wants to work!

Me: Yay! Hopefully the next person to sit in her desk will have at least half a brain!

Milton: It's about time!

Cowardly Lion: Took her long enough!

Toto: Boohoo!

Scarecrow: Waaaah!

Wednesday, it begins to sink in.

PD: ::sniff:: I will really miss the people.

Glynda: It won't affect you too much, Bee.

Me [stops dancing]: Wait, what? Why would it affect me at all?

Milton: Uh, now we'll have to do treat day more often because she threw off the ratio!

CL: I hope I'm promoted to her position!

Toto: Boohoo waaaaah!

SC: ::sniff sniff::: ::sob sob::

Thursday, her last day. Or 'day of reckoning', if you will. 

PD: I am being FORCED OUT! OZ cut my hours to make my life miserable! He is an evil evil man!

Glynda: OZ said the work can be done by you in the amount of hours you work, Bee.

Me: What? He's not going to replace her position? I have to take over her work? ::Waaaaaah!::

Milton: . . . because when I first started working here I was doing treats 1 in 8 weeks now it'll be down to 1 in 5!

CL: Okay, I will not be promoted to her position but I will pretend I am now the queen of the asylum by bossing everybody around!

Toto: Who will help me fix the copy machine? ::sniff sniff::

SC: Now who will believe all of my outrageous lies?

Friday, the day after.

Glynda: Look at it this way, job security.

Me [sorting through the piles of unfinished work inherited from PD and thinking *job security* could go fuck itself]: I'm effed. I am so effed.

Milton: ... and now it will be almost every month! I don't know how I'll manage!

CL: And I will be queen of cabbage patch land too!

Toto: The shiny object!

SC: I met Obama at the mall last Saturday. He's shorter than I thought!

Monday, after everything has sunk in.

Glynda: OZ said he is going to give Purple Dino-SOUR's position to his son.

Me: Of course he is because my work life isn't miserable enough!

Milton: I know it's petty but I don't know how I'll manage if he doesn't hire someone else and I have to do treat day more often!

Me [looking up from a stack of papers, messages and charts I inherited  from PD's desk because it turn out she never did any work and just decided to shove everything on my desk before she left while I was in the bathroom]: That's what you're focusing on? Treat day? I don't give a rat's ass about freaking treats right now!

Moral of this story:

Be careful what you wish for because an empty bobble head who at least does the minimum is better than paper cuts on your eyeballs.

I feel partly responsible for her retirement because the last time she worked before she retired I may have said something along the lines of "If you're unhappy here, maybe you should retire. He'll replace you with someone for half of what he pays you and life will go on." In my defense, I really didn't think she had the balls. I guess I was wrong.

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!

Signs of the Apocalypse at Arkham Asylum

Just when I think things at work can't get any worse I get an unexpected kick to the crotch.

I don't know if you've noticed, OR CARE, but I have not mentioned my search for an assistant this year. It's partly because I'm a superstitious fool and I do believe that me saying the words out loud or, you know, on a post, may jinx my overworked-but-happy-not-to-have-a-moron-hanging-from-my-neck life.

Unfortunately for me, some people at the Asylum do not have enough work to do so the next "" logical "" step is to assign one of these bladdernuts to me. As my assistant.

Who was the lucky dingbat to have the honor of working with me? Scarecrow the X-ray tech. I freaked out of course because, besides thinking she knows everything about fake cheese, she is also an idiot. I reached out to the one person who I knew would sympathize, my former (AWESOME) assistant, BD. At first he was a pain in the ass because we obviously speak in different generations. My generation is smarter, stronger, nicer. His is mean, vindictive and whiney. But then he came through as he always did when he worked alongside me at the nuthouse.

This conversation took place via texts:

Bee: Dude! They want to assign Scarecrow to be my part-time assistant!!!

BD: ?????

Bee: What’s with the”?”? Did u not hear me or are u as shocked as i am?

BD: I am fucking shocked!! WTF r they thinking?

Bee: I dunno but I’m having a h-attack just thinking bout it!

BD: H-attack?

Bee: HEART attack! jeez louise u’re young dontcha know the lingo?

BD: Young people dont worry about “H-ATTACKS” we also dont say “jeez louise” or “lingo”

Bee: Don’t change the subject. What am I gonna do??

BD: Shes got bad knees just pus her.

Bee: WTF? ‘pus’ hahahahaha!! and also eww!

BD: Old people shouldnt be texting

Bee: Young people should respect their elders

BD: pfft! I like pushing them into traffic

Bee: I will save that text for when you become a slimy politician

BD: Senator I have no idea who this “bee” is

-5 hours later because I got busy working so I didn’t respond-

BD: Well?

Bee: ‘well’ what?

BD: Whats going on with the asst thing

Bee: Nothing yet. She just went around saying ‘I’m gonna be BD’

BD: Bitch

Bee: Yep with a capital STUPIDASS!

BD: She doesnt have the looks to be me

Bee: I dunno, u both look like muppets

BD: Old people start smelling funny at 37

Bee: Why are you sniffing old people? New fetish?

BD: THAT WAS DISGUSTING!

Bee: U started

BD: I was thinking about it and you should use this argument:

-A BUNCH OF MINUTES GO BY-

BD: “Her prior indiscretions demonstrate she may be prone to relay personal info at inopportune times thereby violating PHI/HIPAA making her a liability”

Bee: ::blink blink:: great idea!

BD: Thatll be $300

Bee: You learned that shit from ME for FREE fool!

BD: 300 bucks will keep me on retainer for the rest of ur life or until u turn 50

Bee: Why 50?

BD: Dont u have some psycho hit on urself?

Bee: Thanks. Now my nightmares will return

BD: I will even represent Andy in the wrongful death suit

Bee: Knowing it’s gonna happen, doesn't that make everybody accessories?

BD: As my own council, i am ending this conversation

Bee: I win! Get used to hearing that.

BD: When did you become so cruel?

Bee: That’s what old age does to a person- look at Jerry Lewis

BD: Is that the guy from the grateful dead?

Bee: No that’s Jerry Garcia he’s dead but that was more due to drugs than age. Lewis was the original nutty professor now he’s a cranky old dude.

BD: Thanks for the useless trivia- ROLLS EYES

Bee: Dont u need to shine ur snakeskin boots and go sing karaoke, country style?

BD: Thats tomorrow. Let me know how it goes with OZ. Otherwise plan b

Bee: Later!

BD: Arent u gonna ask what plan b is?

Bee: What is it?

BD: u re-hire the asst from last year.

Bee: I hate you.

BD: LMFAO theres some “lingo” for you

 

Don't tell that big headed fool that his advice actually worked. I'd never hear the end of it!

Rerun numero UNO. "What I need is hazard pay for all the purple nurples!"

-original date, Monday, August 25, 2008

What I need is hazard pay for all the purple nurples!

So…
Glynda’s on vaca until Thursday, which is just as well since she and I had an issue over the brain dead assistant. Here is a brief synopsis: OZ wanted a report on what she had accomplished. I typed it up and left nothing out. HE went berserk and tore Glynda a new one, before my very eyes, for not firing her! More on her on Friday.

Anyway, she’s the only nurse on Mondays so Scarecrow needed help with an older patient who has Alzheimer’s.

I volunteered like so:
“Ask Milton. Oh, she's in the bathroom? Where’s Tin-Man? The hospital making rounds? Crap! Okay.”
She needed help putting him on the X-Ray table so I helped. Then she asked me to fix his pillow. So I did.
And do you know what that DIRTY OLD BASTARD DID???
.
He. Grabbed. My. Boobs!!!!

You know, the ones I took off the market when I married Andy? Those!

SWEET HOLY FAMILY!

I almost died of shock right there! Only I controlled myself because my tender pechugas would have landed on his face. That's okay, he thinks OZ charges a lot, wait till he gets MY bill!

So now we have to amend Bee’s Rules for patients.

1) I will not watch your kid if you’re coming in for an exam. You can lock him/her in one of our closets.

2) I will not take your co-pay. Wait for the receptionist to come back from her pee break since I can't handle the pressure of putting a 20 into an envelope.

3) I will not get you a cup off coffee (the fuck??). I’m not your servant. If you ask me for one, you will see mild mannered ME turn into Red Face Spittle Woman!

4) I will not give you a lollipop if you are over 18. (unless you are a really hot guy)(hey, these are my rules and I can make any exceptions I want!) I will ask for ID (if you're hot I might linger in the bushes outside of your house). Don't use the excuse of having bad breath either because you can always carry mints.

5) Do not talk to me while we are passing each other in the hallway. You are a patient therefore beneath me.
And the new added rule:

6) You cannot grab my boobs! No! Bad! No grabby boobies! No! (unless you are a really hot guy)
You can, however, ogle me from afar. Maybe bring me some presents. I wouldn’t object to that.
.
HEY! Watch your hands! You can't grab my butt either! (unless...)

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I want to thank Brian for scaring the ever lovin' CRAP out of me(!) by doing this post about my creepy stalker! Because of that I had to drink this very delicious pomegranate Mojito. Thanks Brian! I hope you're happy!

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!

Peter picked a pile of pickled hos.

I was sitting at my desk, typing my own business, when Scarecrow came and told me she had a funny story that she knew I would appreciate because I, me, myself am such a great story teller. I cut her off and asked her to please tell me more about how great I am before I let her continue with her ““funny”” story.

Here is what she told me:

The other day I made pickles but I wanted to get them out of my house so I took some to both my mom and my mother-in-law and my minivan smelled like pickles all day even though I bought an air freshener!

[I waited for the punch line]

[I scratched my head and stuck my pinkie in my ear because it was itchy]

[I looked at the time and wondered how many lollipops I could stuff in my mouth without drooling]

[I finally had to ask…]

Is that it?

Scarecrow:
Yeah. Isn’t it funny?

Bee:
Tell ya' what I’m gonna do for you. I am going to overhaul your story so that when you tell it to people, you get a couple of chuckles.  (Yeah, I have that much of an ego.) Ready?

Scarecrow:
Okay.

Bee:
— I made some pickles this weekend only to realize I had more than my husband and children would ever eat, I don’t like pickles you see, so I decided to give some to my mom and mother-in-law. Despite the forecast for cool weather, the day was hot n’ humid and as a result they were particularly eh… pungent. Okay lets be honest they STUNK like a $4 dollar hooker with a hangover on a summer day!

[wait for snickers here]

I opened my windows and drove merrily singing to Dr. Dre's’ “Nuthin' But A 'G' Thang"—

Scarecrow:
What song is that?

Bee:
It doesn’t have to be that song but pick one that would be bizarre hearing you sing.

— Even though the smell was overpowering, I imagined the pleasure my moms would have when eating their pickles so I tried to breathe through my mouth. Besides, once I delivered them, the smell would leave my car, right? WRONG!

The scent clung to every fiber of my minivan with the tenacity of a koala bear on peyote.—

Scarecrow:
Koala Bear?

Bee:
It doesn’t have to make sense.

— I stopped at a nearby Walgreen’s and bought a piña colada air freshener in the hopes that the coconut would drive the smell away but the only thing it did was have me daydreaming of rum.

[wait for applause here]

Scarecrow:
I didn’t know you didn’t like pickles!

Bee:
::sigh:: I love pickles but I know YOU don’t like pickles and you have to make people aware of that fact so they know why the smell of them would drive you insane.

Scarecrow:
Oh. I don’t think I can remember all that but I’ll try it.

[later in the day]

Scarecrow [to PD]:
I bought a piña colada air freshener because my minivan smelled like a hooker covered in pickle juice!

And that, my friends, made me laugh.

War— I mean WORK stories.

It’s been a while since I regaled you with the adventures of Arkham Asylum. Today we will feature:

Milton (female), the bookkeeper (one of my favorites).

Scarecrow, the spastic x-ray tech.

Purple Dino-SOUR, the world’s most useless human.

And because I do like to mock myself from time to time, Bee, the cool chick.

When last we left Arkham, the biddies were devising new ways to mentally torture our favorite character, Bee.

Milton

Milton:
Do you know who threw out the green scott brite dish sponge?

Bee:
The ugly dingy one that no longer made suds and was even oily and black?

(That's not it. It looks better than the one I threw away)

Milton:
Yeah, that one.

Bee:
No.

[I actually had it wrapped in a paper towel in my purse. I know that sounds weird but this thing was revolting and she was using it to wash the forks and spoons I use to eat my food. Which means they go in my mouth. I couldn’t throw it away in any of the garbage cans because…]

Milton:
I looked in the garbage cans and it’s not in any of them. They had to have thrown it out at some point yesterday before the cleaning crew came.

[… I knew she would dig through the garbage so I had grabbed it that morning before she came in and stuffed it in my purse. It’s scary how well I know my bats]

Bee:
I’ll bring you a new one from home. That one was beyond disgusting. It probably already had a micro civilization complete with skyscrapers and Al Gore.

Milton:
You guys are too delicate. At home, I can go months without replacing the sponge.

[after I swallowed my bile, I made a mental note not to eat at Milton’s house.]

Scarecrow

Bee [on the phone with a patient while both the receptionist and her back up, PD, were on vacation]:
We have an opening tomorrow if you’d like to come in then, Mrs.—.

Scarecrow [in such a loud whisper I wouldn’t be surprised if Brian heard her]:
Oh no! Not Mrs.—! We do not want to see Mrs.—!

Bee:
We will see you on Friday Mrs.—. [I slowly turned to look at Scarecrow and she almost seemed to shrink before my eyes] May I see you in the chartroom for a minute?

Scarecrow:
I-I-I have to go look for a chart.

Bee:
Well, you can start in the chartroom!

I dragged her boney ass in there and proceeded to tell her how unprofessional she was to not only say such things about a patient while I’m on the phone with her but to say it in front of other patients in the waiting room. I told her that while I was the substitute receptionist she was NOT going to behave in such a manner on my watch! Her response?

Scarecrow:
W-w-would you like me to bring you a cup of coffee?

I think she was trying to show me her underbelly as a sign of submission but I ain’t taking any chances in her spitting in my precious coffee.

Purple Dino-SOUR

As I said before, both Cowardly Lion (the receptioist)  and PD were on vacation so the next person in line to play receptionist was lil’ ole me. Why the hell they stuck me as the receptionist is beyond me since I am clearly not a people person! Usually when PD goes on her yearly jaunts to Le Florida, I get to work her desk and mine. However! These were special circumstances. I had never done a 2 day stint as the merry phone lady so I figured PD’s desk could rot for all I cared.

Would you believe this bubble head came in and threw a tantrum because her desk looked like somebody had replaced it with mine?

PD:
Did you run claims for me last week?

Bee:
No, I was hoping the elves would come in and do it for you since I was too busy trying to do my job and be receptionist at the same time.

PD:
I can’t get all this done in one week!

Bee:
So hey? How was your vacation? I haven’t taken one in 2 years and this is your third this year.

PD:
I have worked here 18 years! Don’t I deserve to take a vacation?

Bee:
Of course you do! You need time off from the 5 hour 3 days a week job you have. I’d be exhausted too but nobody does my work when I go away to sunbathe in the nude.

PD:
::gasp!::  [stalks off to complain to her fellow bubble heads]

Bee

First up.

For those of you keeping score, I was KM a couple of weeks ago so I brought in a healthy veggie tray with dip and some chocolate and blueberry muffins. Those rotten old ladies did not eat any of my snacks so I wound up having to throw out the veggies because they grew moldy. The muffins were enjoyed by my family so that was okay but what the hell!

This week I had a plan. I was not going to eat any of the treats Toto brought in as a sign of protest. I wanted them to feel all hurt and achy inside just like I did when they didn’t eat my goodies. Come with me as I give you peek into my head.

Bee [all in my head]:
Hmmm she brought 2 types of coffee cake. I don’t care what kind she brought I AM NOT HAVING ANY!

Oh, one is open custard [mouth drooling] and the other is Bavarian chocolate chip [drool spilling onto my shirt]… NO! ooh! She brought colby-jack cheese too! Maybe I’ll just have a little piece— NO!! Oh dear lord! She brought the dip she knows I love! She did this on purpose just to torture me! She’s met her match because I will resist the temptation—

Who am I kidding? I have no self control when it comes to snackies.

And to end things with a golden brush of dumbass...

I requested a copy of our contract from a big name insurance company. They faxed it over and I made 3 copies but for some reason I thought the contract they faxed had print on both sides of the page so I had to redo the copies and make them two sided. We have an old fax machine. Can anyone tell me why I'm a dumbass?

The Fromunda Cheese Experiment

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

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

Of course you did Scarecrow.

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

fromunda :Slimy residue commonly found under a nut sac.

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

Here are my test results:

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

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

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

Good to know.

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

Salty nuts = yum I guess?

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

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

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

Scarecrow:

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

Well! That sure told me!

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

Fromunda is the new Colby Jack.

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

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

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

Slimy residue commonly found under a nut sac.

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

(I just gagged a little)

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

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

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

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

P.S.

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

Ah, you thought cakes were only dangerous because they make your butt bigger...

Have you missed the fact that I haven't posted about Milton? Would you like a little Milton today?

As I've said before, sometimes I wonder if we are secretly being filmed by some far off extraterrestrials that get their giggles from us, the lesser beings (well, you guys maybe lesser but me? I'm a woman and a half which makes for difficulty in buying clothes). To those extraterrestrials I say "SCREW YOU!" and I say it in a shrill, obnoxious voice right into their mics so I may annoy the shit out of them!

Yesterday, day of the lord Thursday, also known as Treat Day or Social Thursday here at the Asylum, I made the innocent mistake of saying the following to Milton: "Yum!! Glynda brought RedVelvet cake!"

I know! How stupid can I be?? Why would that be the first thing I say in the morning? What happened to just plain ole' "good morning" and then a mouthful of shutty??

You see this prompted Milton to debate my saneness.

Milton: "Who brought RedVelvet cake? I thought you said Glynda."

I did say Glynda because she brought the cake.

Milton: "Did you mean Scarecrow? Because it's her week to bring in treats and Glynda isn't on the rotation to bring treats so I think you meant Scarecrow."

No, I meant Glynda—

Milton: "Why would Glynda bring in treats? That just doesn't make sense! Are you sure it wasn't Scarecrow?" [and she stood up as if to emphasis what I dumbass I am for getting two completely different people mixed up]

Glynda brought the cake because—

Milton: "Scarecrow. You mean Scarecrow." [and she gave me that look that shows she is trying her hardest not to lose her patience]

Hey, how about you let me complete sentence? GLYNDA BROUGHT A CAKE FOR HER BIRTHDAY!

Milton: "Glynda's birthday? [she blinked about 20 times] Scarecrow brought a cake for GLYNDAY'S birthday?"

No. Glynda bought herself, Glynda, a birthday cake because tomorrow is her, Glynda's, birthday. No to Scarecrow. NO TO SCARECROW. NO TO SCARECROW!!!

Milton: "Is Scarecrow still bringing cheese and crackers??"

At the end of the fuckin day I was calling Scarecrow Glynda and vice-versa. Maybe I was wrong and don't really know everything? Maybe I'm really Milton?

Somebody?

Anybody?

Well, I guess that's the end of the line for this blogger.

Scarecrow, the x-ray tech here at the asylum who thinks she knows all, just said “I hear that the bloggers are having a field day with Blagojevich”

I nearly spit my coffee because I didn’t think anybody here knew what the hell a blogger was so I asked “Yeah? Which bloggers specifically?” she rolls her eyes at me and says “It is a group of many people on one website. The website is The Bloggers. There are no names because they choose to stay anonymous.”

I had to stop myself from laughing while I asked “Really? One big group of people on one website? Do they talk about anything else other than politics? Like maybe life? Or ooh! Poop??”

She looks at me like one would look at a person who just did a post about poop “No Bee. They only talk about politics.”

Oh. Okay. Where do I turn in my blogger badge?

Sit, stay- DON'T WIGGLE!

I was thinking the other day, I know SHOCKING, trying to remember details of my potting training. Was it easy? Did I catch on quick? Did they give me a cookie when I made pee-pee in the potty?

I'm sure I was a fast learner and did brilliantly! After all, I'm an expert potty goer now. It's true, ask anyone.

The reason I was wondering is because Scarecrow fell off the pot the other day. She's got a good 20 years on me so it stands to reason that she would know what she's doing by now.

Granted, the toilet lid was wobbly because it only had one screw left (that's what he said!) but it's been like that for at least 3 years.

When she walked back into the office and exclaimed "I fell off the toilet!" and after I was able to breathe and control my laughter, I did ask her what the hell she had been doing to fall off the damn thing, wiggling? I mean, it's not a bucking bronco or one of those electric bulls you see in jean knee's bars so the dismount shouldn't be too difficult.

You already have your feet on the floor, hopefully, imagining gravity is around your butt area at the moment, you should only have to shift your center of gravity forward slightly to stand up. She's a skinny little thing so it's not as if she had to shift hundreds of pounds from one side to the other.

I'm no scientist and I'm sure the mathematician reading this might explain gravity better than I, but I've used those facilities with no unfortunate incidents (other than the usual encounters with the pig ladies who do not clean up after themselves)(hope you weren't eating). Then again, I'm very aware of my center of gravity and try to work with it?… or against it?... with I think… whatever! I do the one that doesn't have me falling off the gotdang pot!

She was a tad upset with me because I couldn't stop laughing but what is a girl to do? A girl with normal feelings and a desire to mock those around her. I think she was just being selfish in trying to curtail my fun.

I know I should be nice to her since she recently had open heart surgery but that was like 2 months ago. I'm sure she's fine now! Besides, it builds character and ultimately helps you heal. She should be thanking me, really.

I know you're jealous that I have all these awesome little happenings in my place of work but sometimes the powers that BE take pity on your poor, stepped upon soul and give you a few good pieces of material that have you salivating and wondering why you can't post live via live web cam.

It's something I've thought about but after hearing my voice when brother Dan and I did a duet to Sweet Child o' Mine, let's just say that tape was stepped on, burned and then fed to piranhas with a fixation for toxic chemicals.

My voice, while awesome to hear live, does not translate well into the airwaves. And Dan's is even worse. He sounds like a bagpipe on speed. He'll deny it though.

P.S.

Yes, I know gravity is everywhere. I did the whole water in a bucket and then swinging it around experiment too, centrifugal force I think it was, if you come here to learn things... SHAME ON YOU!

Humor-Blogs

I didn't shower today so maybe you shouldn't get too close.

So, you know where I am today? I’m at work*. Yep. OZ is a jerk off who is at home probably scratching his balls right now.

I’m so tired I am typing this while my forehead is mere inches from the keyboard.

I’m so tired that when I clean my eye crust is seems to be on redial because it just keeps coming back.

I’m so tired I don’t have any word bullets in my mouth that let me shoot down Scarecrow’s “where’s waldo” outfit she is wearing due to casual day.

I’m so tired Milton just sneezed and I didn’t say “bless you” and instead said “bmeh”.

I’m so tired I’m drinking my coffee with a straw.

I’m so tired I wish I’d worn a diaper.

I’m so tired I’m ending this post now.

*People in the US usually have the day after Thanksgiving, off. Except those of us who work for tyrannical asswipes who kick puppies and burn butterflies.

P.S.

—too tired

She hit the flo [She hit the flo] Next thing you know Shawty got low low low low low low low low...

Okay umm, where were we?? I don't remember so I'm just gonna talk about something else, okay?
.
O--kay!
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Well, it's the end of our 3 day weekend (can I get a boohoo?) but in a way I have one more day off because OZ won't be back until Wednesday which means non-stop blogging! Can I get a Woohoo!!
.
I did a lot of gardening this weekend and some de-cluttering but in between I had some awesome TV time. Andy talked me into going to see Tropic Thunder (why do I keep calling it tropical thunder??) which was okay but as I've told mostly everybody, my spiritual leader Tom Cruise Savior of all car accident victims, STOLE THE SHOW! He went low low low low low low.



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I know, I know, we spent a beautiful day in a movie theater? Shame on us! Which brings me to the mini reprimand to those who are forcing me to think about summer being over. How about you shutty?
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The radio is telling me to smell the dry leaves, the scarecrow displays are popping up everywhere... stop it!
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I. Am. Not. Ready!
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We had a long hard winter and I'm enjoying our unseasonably cool summer. Plus, I checked and the first official day of fall isn't until September 22nd. If people continue to try and torment me, I'm just going to have to pretend they don't exist and/or rip their heads off with my pinkie nails*!
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And to those jerky trees that are mercilessly taunting me by showering me with their yellow leaves as I'm gardening... who protects you against spiders, birds and squirrels? Me! I'm just gonna go ahead and let Tazz and Mocha pee on you.

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Okay. Now for business. I entered a contest over at Humor Bloggers dot com. It's a (kherm!) sex scandal writing contest. I'm not going to tell you which number I am THIRTEEN or which one is my story THIRTEEN but you can go here to vote for the best one. AGAIN I don't want to influence you in anyway THIRTEEN so I only ask that you vote for the one that made you smiley THIRTEEN.
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Family, if you go over there (which I know you will because you guys are my support system), please do not believe everything you read. Except this right now. You guys know I'm a demigoddess step above an angel.

I'm not sure if I had bragged about it yet but Chelle made me one of Humor Blogger dot com's administrators. What does that mean? It means that I'm cooler than I was a month ago that's what! The site has been evolving and the public forum is open to everybody, well mostly everybody. If she notices that you didn't clean behind your ears, she might not let you pass.
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Now if only we could get Chris to figure out how to sign up for the Humor Blogger dot com public forum so he could submit future entries, hmmmm...
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* I can't always say "I'm going to rip the eyeballs out of your head and piss in your dead skull!"- My threats, like me, need to change with the times.

Humor-Blogs

What I need is hazard pay for all the purple nurples!

So…

Glynda’s on vaca until Thursday, which is just as well since she and I had an issue over the brain dead assistant. Here is a brief synopsis: OZ wanted a report on what she had accomplished. I typed it up and left nothing out. HE went berserk and tore Glynda a new one, before my very eyes, for not firing her! More on her on Friday.

Anyway, she’s the only nurse on Mondays so Scarecrow needed help with an older patient who has Alzheimer’s.

I volunteered like so:

“Ask Milton. Oh, she's in the bathroom? Where’s Tin-Man? The hospital making rounds? Crap! Okay.”

She needed help putting him on the X-Ray table so I helped. Then she asked me to fix his pillow. So I did.
And do you know what that DIRTY OLD BASTARD DID???
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He. Grabbed. My. Boobs!!!!

You know, the ones I took off the market when I married Andy? Those!

SWEET HOLY FAMILY!

I almost died of shock right there! Only I controlled myself because my tender pechugas would have landed on his face. That's okay, he thinks OZ charges a lot, wait till he gets MY bill!

So now we have to amend Bee’s Rules for patients.

1) I will not watch your kid if you’re coming in for an exam. You can lock him/her in one of our closets.

2) I will not take your co-pay. Wait for the receptionist to come back from her pee break since I can't handle the pressure of putting a 20 into an envelope.

3) I will not get you a cup off coffee (the fuck??). I’m not your servant. If you ask me for one, you will see mild mannered ME turn into Red Face Spittle Woman!

4) I will not give you a lollipop if you are over 18. (unless you are a really hot guy)(hey, these are my rules and I can make any exceptions I want!) I will ask for ID (if you're hot I might linger in the bushes outside of your house). Don't use the excuse of having bad breath either because you can always carry mints.

5) Do not talk to me while we are passing each other in the hallway. You are a patient therefore beneath me.

And the new added rule:

6) You cannot grab my boobs! No! Bad! No grabby boobies! No! (unless you are a really hot guy)

You can, however, ogle me from afar. Maybe bring me some presents. I wouldn’t object to that.
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HEY! Watch your hands! You can't grab my butt either! (unless...)

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I want to thank Brian for scaring the ever lovin' CRAP out of me(!) by doing this post about my creepy stalker! Because of that I had to drink this very delicious pomegranate Mojito. Thanks Brian! I hope you're happy!


Humor-Blogs