Well shiver me timbers and blow me down! (That Popeye was such a perv!)

Sometimes things happen that make you wonder how you'll be able to find an ounce of humor in that specific situation.

You sit at your desk and you cock your head to the side thinking “well, maybe this is one of those ‘life lessons everyone is always blathering on about” then you shift in your chair because the slight unevenness of the floor is making you lopsided and you really need to brood over the recent events. Being distracted by one butt cheek being higher than the other is unacceptable.

After you adjust your sitting position and have a sip of your water, which is now lukewarm because you were too distracted to drink it before, you go back to wondering about life’s injustices.

“Maybe I did something horrible and Karma wanted me to repent for my behavior towards my fellow men/women?”

“Maybe I shouldn’t have added those few drops of dish washing soap in the office toilet bowl just to see what fun would ensue?” (All I have to say is BWAHAHAHAHA!!!)

“Maybe I should take Milton seriously when she tells me she tip-toes throw muddy spots when she’s walking to work so as not to create back-splash that will ruin her pants, you know, instead of laughing my ass off?”

“Maybe I shouldn’t have sent a picture of someone I know to my friends and family saying ‘If Pedro from Napoleon Dynamite and Napoleon’s uncle had a baby he would look just like this guy!’?”

“Maybe I should have let my Andy have that last slice of pizza?”

As these things are forming tiny thought bubbles over your head, you realize you have to shift again because the chair has rolled ever so slightly to the divot on the left.

You sadly re-examine your life and wonder if it is finally time for you to change your ways. Yep. Karma is telling you that you must look within/into/onto/over yourself because your evil ways will no longer be tolerated and you will suffer all sorts of repercussions for your actions!

After all, what other rational explanation could there be for your mom having an iPhone before you do?

(That contraption is a tortilla maker because my mom rocks!)

And to top it off, you call your spouse and give him the opportunity to be a part of your one person pity party and instead he... or SHE asks how much money you have saved from your allowance to buy your own and when you say $60 they laugh in your ear and suggest you look into toe waxing as a part time job then bites your head off because you’re bothering him eh or HER at work. Granted you’ve done the same to him-her but it’s cute when you do it. His refusal to provide at least an ounce of sympathy has you planning how to best hurt him er, you know, HER when they get home. Then you stop your thoughts in their tracks because you realize this is how your bad karma begins! So really it’s not your fault because there is obviously no way you can control people provoking you into being bad.

Damn you karma and your tunnel vision!!

... ... What were we talking about?

Anyway, here are a couple of pictures of my hair. The pictures do not do the color justice.

Please excuse my puffy face. It was early in the morning, salt, water retention, hangover, you know.

The color this time around is more burgundy than red which is awesome!

Here I sit.

Today I was going to do a post about how Andy and I were going to see "The Hangover". It was going to be very funny. Okay, maybe it would have been only mildly amusing. However, the sever thunderstorms that hit Chicagoland had a different plan for me.

I had just gotten off the phone with my mom who had informed me there was no water coming into her floor. Awesome!

After all the money and time spent on repairing her place it was nice to hear. I felt pretty good about my day. OZ is still on vacation so I'd have no meeting and I'd be able to leave at 3 and pick up some tacos from the delicious El Famous Burrrrrrito on my way home. Just as I was about to hit publish on Andy's and mine debate on whether we should see "The Hangover" on Sunday (like we always do but he has some reservations because he does not want to watch a raunchy movie on God's day) or Friday evening (which I was against due to my fear of THE TEENAGERS) when I got the dreaded call.

Water was coming in.

I left work to help my mom with what I could. It wasn't like last year were our sump pump went out so loads of water just gushed in. The guys installed a new sump earlier this year and the old one is working great so we just had to focus on sweeping the water that was coming in from under the fuckin bathtub. It seems there is a big gaping hole that needs to be fixed. Guess what the next project is?

Do you guys know how absolutely depressing it is to keep going from one room to the next sweeping water into a hole and then coming back to find it EXACTLY AS BEFORE. Like if you hadn't even spent time sweating your ass off a few minutes ago and swearing at your shoes because they were wet and making your feet hurt.

Here I sit with a blister the size of mount fuckin everest on my hand from the non stop sweeping (of course my mom had to say that by now I should have calluses if only I cleaned my house more often but then I told her I was going to dunk her in the pit so she stopped the mocking) wondering why I was going to post about something so trivial as a movie.

The irony? Tomorrow I'm hosting a BBQ to show our appreciation to everybody who helped with the repairs. I just hope I have enough happy pills to keep me from collapsing because I am at the end of my rope right now. I also have no clue how I'm gonna be flipping the steaks since Blister is bitching at me every time I click the mouse. A reasonable person would let somebody else cook but I don't trust anybody near my grill.

Well, I'm off to make a voodoo doll of the asswipe who sold us our house and never mentioned the water issues. First I will shrink his ears, left leg and right nostril. Then I will let Tazz have at his crotch. May he rot in hell.

Oh yeah! Happy Father's Day to all you good dads out there!

Yeah, you parents out there that think it’s hard talking to your kids about the birds and the bees? Try explaining prison love to your older, very sheltered, female boss. I dare ya’.

The following is the most bizarre conversation I have ever had with a boss that even beats the vampire one.

Glynda: Can I ask you something since you’re hip and happening [I AM NOT KIDDING. THAT’S WHAT SHE SAID]

Bee: [in the middle of enjoying some taco dip] I am pretty groovy. Ask away.

Glynda: What does it mean when people say ‘I’m not your bitch’? Is it degrading to women?

Bee: BWAHAHAHAHA! Uh I mean erm. Well, I think it originated as a prison term referring to those men who were the ummm bottom part of a forced relationship… if you know what I mean.

Glynda: … [blank stare]

Bee: Well um [puts down her Tostito full of taco dip] [sweats] okay when a man and a woman lust each other very much they uh… but when there is no woman around and the man is confined to a building (or boat for you sailors out there) where only other men live and that man has certain needs… if the man is bigger IN STATURE than other men and he’s tougher and may have the nickname of Big MOFO Killing Machine he may then take on a, let’s call him SPECIAL FRIEND, whom he will use as his well erm GIRLFRIEND for the time of his stay. And his temporary GIRLFRIEND then cries at night because he really doesn’t want any part of this relationship but there is nothing he can do because his nickname is Little Willy White Collar Crime and Big MOFO Killing Machine will do what he wants anyway. In this scenario, Little Willy is the Prison Bitch so the term “I’m not your bitch” comes from that.

Glynda: [looking nauseous] Oh… dear. So when OZ and Tin-Man say it, WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?? That they’re…

Bee: Holy Moses NO! No! That’s not what I’m saying it just means they’re saying they are not there for someone else to take advantage of or abuse.

Glynda: [looks relieved] Okay. I get it. I thought they just meant women as their slaves. I think I liked it better that way.

Bee: Well, I’m sure Little Willy liked it better that way too.

Moral of this story? Don't do the crime If you're a sensitive asshole.

If you have a better moral, sock it to me.

╔╩╦╩╦╩╦╩╦╔╩╦╩╦╩╦╩╦╔╩╦╩╦╩╦╩╦╔╩╦╩╦╩╦╩╦╔╩╦╩╦╩╦╩╦

I dedicate this post to The Nemising One who died earlier this week. He was one crude rude dude but he was always funny. I know I said I'd post Andy's interview but this conversation with Glynda happened after I'd found out he'd died and I thought it was right up his alley.

When I first found out, I swear I thought it was a joke because he did have that type of morbid sense of humor. He wrote a goodbye post just in case his health failed him one day and instead a fuckin drunk driver got to him first.

I've always wondered what would happen if one day I just, out of the blue, stopped posting. It's an interesting idea to have a goodbye post ready just in case an unforeseen freak accident were to send me off to meet my maker. Would it matter? I know it mattered to me to know TNO was gone. I'm not trying to make this about me it's just that it was a bizarre experience to read somebody's good-bye.

My thoughts are with his family whom he loved and I'm reminded especially of this post where he took his daughter to see Twilight. The guy was a hilarious contradiction.

Rest in peace TNO.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sigh.

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

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

Without further ado-do:

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



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

Well…


Until next year!
Pass the weed.

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

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

I fucken hate them.

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

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

Now I'm unbelievably (thesaurus time!)

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

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

I almost feel bad for you. Almost.

Fuck it. I'm going to bed.

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

Damn you George Burns!

When a day off attacks you at the end.

I didn't go to work today. The sister, my mom, nieces and I went to the land of IKEA where I dream about things I cannot pronounce. All was well, the kids behaved and we only had one disappointment in the form of the lack of cacti. I'm too tired to explain what that means but you just need to know it almost made me cry.

Anyway, since we arrived home sooner than expected, the husband, also known as Mr. Torturing Jerky Pants, decided we should go do laundry. I was exhausted but after many loving insults, I changed my mind.

We packed up our crap, got in the car and drove to our regular laundromat only to find it CLOSED and covered up in weird can't-see-in paper! Damn! But at the same time yay! Surely Andy would say we should go back home? Nope! Mr. Torturing Jerky Pants decided we should go to the one we used to go to before. The crappy-leaky-cold one with weird bugs? That one.

I cant wait until the laundry-room gets rehabbed! I hate having to lug around my clothes all over my town in the dead of freakin cold.

Speaking of rehab. Once we got home, we received  a call from the guy that's supposed to quote us how much it will be to install a sump pump system in our house so that we never ever ever get a single drop of water. He's a nice guy with a reputable company but they're all car sales men at heart. He started with "I'm going to show you one of the two things we could do for you. With this one we would have to break up your porch, your patio, flower beds, pull up your bushes and eat babies all for 50 billion dollars! Nobody EVER chooses that one but I have to tell you about it anyway."

See, he has to do that so when he quotes you an exorbitant amount, you say "well, at least it's not FIFTY BILLION DOLLARS!" he's a nice guy but hey what do we look like? A couple of new born mopes? Fucker.

And as if all that wasn't enough activity for one day, Andy finally caved to my "please buy me the Gazelle! pretty please? I love you long time?" so we went to buy it at our friendly neighborhood Kohl's because we had a coupon. I called them first to make sure they had one and the old lady was all "The WHAT, hon?" THE GAZELLE! "What does it do, hon?" You get on it and you swish like this and that with your arms and legs. WITH YOUR ARMS AND LEGS! "Oh. You just had to explain what it was for, hon. Let me check. ---- Yuppers! We have a bunch come on over!"

Now, now. Don't mock me because I bought into that Tony Ponytail's hype. I need to lose me these parasitic pounds... although, they've been keeping me warm this winter so I have that going for me.

LOOK AT THAT ASS!! THAT WILL BE MY ASS!! Only, less manly. Hopefully.

P.S.

When I was telling the lady how to use the machine I was physically demonstrating how to use the machine. Why? Why would I do that? It's not like she can see me.  I think that should count as my first work out.

Also, Andy doubts my balance and thinks I'll fall on my butt the first few times. I have a feeling he's going to push me off it just so he can say he was right.

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?

Bee, a bucket, water and some frozen nippies.

Okay you guys. You have to admit that the tiny black cloud that follows my household around is beginning to get a little irritating. I mean, don't the powers that be get tired of poking at us with their plungers? Sooner or later they'll have to move on and pick on somebody taller, faster, smarter…

I have mentioned we were having issues with our water heater. For the past few months, only one person could comfortably shower within an 8 hour period. The next person would be left with luke warm to icy cold water.

AND GOD HELP YOU IF YOU DID DISHES BEFORE ANDY TOOK A SHOWER!

We at least had some hot water. It worked out fine because I'd shower in the morning and Andy in the evening.

But then…

Thursday Morning approximately 6:30 AM

Andy:
Bee! We have a problem!!

Bee [startled out of a deep sleep where she was "dancing" with Brad Pitt]
huhn? Wha?

Andy:
The water heater isn't working!

Bee:
::sigh:: We knew that already

Andy:
No! It's not working at all now! There is NO hot water!
You'll have to get up and make my bagel so I can check it out.

Bee:
Make your bagel? It can't be THAT serious. [if my eyes had been open, I'm sure I would have rolled them]

Andy:
I don't have time for games, Bee. I'm already 20 minutes late.

Being the good wife that I am, I got up and spread cream cheese on his bagel. Done!

As Andy was running around doing Andy things [::rolls eyes::], I calmly grabbed my big pasta pot, filled it up with water, put it on the stove, gave Andy some matches so he could run back downstairs and continue his Andy things (even though my argument was to leave well enough alone since we would both be leaving for work and nobody would be home to save the dogs if the house went KABLOOM), I grabbed a 5 gallon Home Depot bucket, filled it up with water, finally talked Andy into shutting the water heater down completely and then had to explain to him what a Mexico Style Shower was.

Step One.
Put a full pot of water on the stove and wait for it to boil.

Step Two.
Grab a big 5 gallon bucket* (doesn't have to be from Home Depot but the orangeness of it makes everything more cheesy) and fill it with water.

Step Three.
Put 5 gallon bucket in bath tub.

Step Four.
Pour boiling hot water from pot into 5 gallon bucket.

Step Five.
Grab a little container to use as a pouring device. Preferably plastic.

Step Six.
Strip nahked and get into tub.

{picture of nahked woman}

Step Seven.
Pour water over yourself using the preferably plastic container.

Step Eight.
Lather, rinse repeat as needed.

I don't think I need to tell you what happens afterwards, right? The drying part should be something you already know.

I'm not going to lie to you, the water is warm but you will freeze precious parts of your body as the cold air hits you.

This is how we used to do it when I was younger and visiting my grandparents in Mexico. They only had one spigot where you could get water from so the bathrooms didn't have running water.

When I told Andy, he looked at me like I had grown 4 arms an extra leg and a turtle.

This is what happens when you were born with a silver spoon in your mouth. You go to pieces when you have to rough it a little bit and freeze your nippies.

The differences in cultures sometimes amuse me to no end. When I told the ladies at work they were shocked and horrified. When I called SIL Crazy Ez and told her we had no hot water, she right away asked "How are you showering? Mexico Style?"

That's what I'm talkin' about!

My only worry was that I would be smelling and maybe tasting like Fettuccine Alfredo since that was the last thing I cooked in my pasta pot but then I thought "well who the hell DOESN'T want to smell like creamy garlic sauce?" I'm getting hungry just smelling myself.

*If you are a little on the larger side, you can use 2 buckets for extra freshness.

P.S.

Who the hell told the muppets they knew how to sing? Enough with the muppet specials already!

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