Since we're at home and I'm not out and about in the world, I don't have the usual funny things to report on. So I've been going through my phone to find funny texts that I hadn't posted before. They are all random and unconnected. Which is pretty typical for me, so I don't think you'll be surprised.
When I was at work on Monday I told some people I would be out the rest of the week. Usually the person would say something like, "Lucky!" or "Enjoy your time off!" but then they'd change their tune once I told them I would be staying home with my post-surgical child. This is how my morning started today:
We have a king-sized bed; my son's is twin-sized. I wish he could have peed his own bed and not ours if only because of the smaller-sized bedding. My son hasn't had an pee accident for a long time. I'm blaming this incident on the narcotic painkillers that he's taking. Poor little dude. Pain and peeing yourself. This day started out crappy for both of us.
Since we're at home and I'm not out and about in the world, I don't have the usual funny things to report on. So I've been going through my phone to find funny texts that I hadn't posted before. They are all random and unconnected. Which is pretty typical for me, so I don't think you'll be surprised.
I sent this text yesterday:
The chickens eating fondue is related to a recent post where I saw a "Chicken Chalet" for sale. I searched for "chickens in turtleneck sweaters" and immediately found images. The fondue search was suggested by my friend David. Still, if I lost my phone and someone found it and clicked on Google, they would probably think they had found the phone of an insane person with possibly dangerous intentions. My son had asked me about the Fukushima disaster which is the reason for the last search entry. Are you listening NSA? Nothing nefarious is going on here.
A few weeks ago while out shopping with my son we saw this and had to buy it:
As soon as we opened the box I had to smell all the crayons. The scent of new Crayolas is one of the best smells in the world. I bet you can imagine it right now if you try.
This next photo and text is from a month ago. I wasn't sure how to include it in a post. I don't generally do a lot of menstruation-related posts (this is where we all say, "THANK GOD!").
To that last text, one friend replied, "Mission accomplished!". So yeah, this is actual artwork in a nice salon where snooty women (and me) have their hair done. I restrained myself and didn't say anything to anyone about the painting. I may have to at my next visit. My hairstylist is a gay man who has been doing my hair since the late 90's. If I point it out to him, he'll be sure to say something to the owners. Seriously, if you worked in this salon, would you want to look at this image day in and day out? I think not.
It's Tuesday evening as I write this. My son's surgery is over and all went well. I feel an immense amount of relief. That's a massive understatement of course. If anyone you've loved has ever had surgery for any reason, you know exactly what I'm talking about. By the way, I've noticed an uptick in visitors to my website today. I don't know if it's because people are kind and wanted to check in and see if I had posted a surgery update or if more people than usual decided to stop by today. Either way it's all good-- web traffic is web traffic, no matter the reason why.
We had to be at the hospital at 8:00 this morning. The children's surgery center is in a new wing of a local hospital. We had never been there before. Everyone we met was SO incredibly nice the entire day. If I ever have to have surgery I wish I could go there. Seriously. I'm only 5' 4'' tall; my feet would only hang off the edge of the bed a little bit. My son was pretty chill until it was time to take off his clothes and underwear and put on a hospital gown. The underwear was almost a deal killer for him. The nurse told him he might accidentally pee himself during surgery and if we didn't have an extra pair of undies (which we didn't) it would make going home rather uncomfortable. Thankfully shortly after that he was given a dose of Versed (they told him it was "goofy juice") and within a few minutes all was well in his little world. The nurse helped him pick out a movie to watch, "Wreck it Ralph". I knew the drugs had kicked in when several times he asked me why there were two Ralphs (is the plural Ralves?) on the screen. The TV remote became his new favorite toy. It also contained the nurse call button. I think he became drunk (pun intended) on power because of being able to push a button and make a nice lady appear. We told the nurse we would take the remote away from him but she said it didn't bother her.
Of course, after he did this like seven times we really did have to call for the nurse when my son needed to pee. I was afraid no one would actually come because my son had become the "boy who cried wolf". They brought in a urine bottle for him to use, which he found to be hilarious. He nearly slid off onto the floor while peeing because he was laughing so hard. My husband was holding the pee bottle so I had to grab my kid and try to put him back on the bed. Which wasn't easy because his body had suddenly become boneless.
While my husband and I waited I got all sort of texts and emails from people asking for updates. I sent this text:
The surgery lasted nearly two hours. Back in the recovery room, the scene was about what you would expect. He slept for a while but when he woke up he complained of some pain and cried a little. He actually cried much less than I would have expected. He was a real little trooper. By the time we got home it was nearly 3PM. My husband and I had a glass of wine with our late lunch and then we both pretty much crashed. We gave our son the iPad and put him in bed between us with orders not to move and then took an hour nap. It helped a little. It's a different kind of tiredness when you are exhausted from emotional stress and not physical activity. As of right now, my little guy seems to be doing well. I hope the worst is over for him.
I didn't have anything super funny to share today but I did have these two incidents from yesterday.
I love me some Star Trek TNG. I really do.
On Twitter, you end up reading tweets from strangers because someone you follow will retweet someone that they follow. I don't know this lady below but I felt compelled to reach out to her after I read her tweet.
The title of today's post is not an actual tagline that Arby's uses but it totally should be. It came from the brain of my funny friend Ivory. If Arby's someday decides to use this line in their advertising, Ivory had better receive some compensation. This brilliance was a result of this conversation from yesterday:
This next incident happened Friday night. It's yet another example of the rock-n-roll lifestyle that I lead. Try to contain your jealousy:
Another friend had this to say:
This is the ad I'll use on Craigslist. Oh-- I guess I should offer it to my faithful readers first. Just send me an email if you are interested in this "Eau de B.O." First come, first served!
This next bit of nonsense happened when I ran an errand on my lunch hour last week:
I wanted to add that it would have been sooooooo easy to pull this off. All I would have had to do was grab an empty card, fill it up with red hangers and exchange the carts. But why on earth would I do that to this poor woman? She did nothing to provoke such cruelty. At least I didn't ACT on my thoughts. I just think these kind of things. I don't usually do them. Usually.
If you read my last post, you saw that my son will be having surgery on April 28th and I shamelessly begged everyone to pray for him (or send positive energy-- whatever works best for you). Anyway, I don't usually show my son's face on here because of: 1. Stranger Danger and 2. He has a right to privacy. However, I think it's easier to pray for people if you have a visual image to concentrate on. So below are two funny videos that show my son at age two and three. He already looks much different now that he's seven. Still, it gives you an face to use. By the way, I promise I'm not turning into a "mommy blogger". I won't be posting videos and photos of my kid ad nauseum.
First clip-- why am I including this 20 second video of my son at a petting zoo? Because a kid chasing a chicken is funny, that's why.
I don't want you to think I'm a weirdo. The reason I taped this next clip of my son using the bathroom is because I heard him singing to himself while he had a BM. It was so cute and funny, I wanted to capture the moment. Instead we ended up having this funny conversation. Whenever I want to tease him even now, I'll say to him, "I farted in my pants." Somehow he's able to turn "pants" into two syllables: "pa-yants". The American South-- giving the world English words with extra syllables for over 200 years.
Below you'll find random, unrelated things from the past week-- things that made me laugh. At the end there will be a brief moment of seriousness. I thought I'd give you a head's up. Seriousness ahead! (At the end. Just a little).
This conversation between my friend Ivory and me took place while I waited during my son's soccer practice on Monday. She is kind to play along with my absurdity.
You know, if you live in one place long enough, you get to know the various areas of your city. Quite by accident I noticed this unattractive location name in my town:
I wonder what effect this horrible name has on the resale value of the neighboring houses. Obviously the name was picked during a time of America's history when people were more honest. None of this "Whispering Pines" or "Spring Meadows" bullshit. If the neighborhood creek was stinky then you named it "Stenchy Shitwater" or something similar. By the way, and I swear this is the truth, yesterday I was typing a text and my iPhone suggested "Shitwater". It has learned that word after only one time! And yet for months, it thought my Russian husband's name was "Bologna". I had to manually enter his name into my custom dictionary.
I had this random thought when I was at work on Wednesday:
A friend pointed out to me that all chaps are by definition assless-- otherwise they are pants. I guess what I'm thinking of is "assless pants". I'd upload an image for you, but then this would have to be a NFSW post, and I try not to do too many of those (because I'm a lady). Still, feel free to Google "assless chaps" on your own time.
These next texts are from Wednesday evening:
The adjective "stacked" leads into my next text quite nicely (I love it when that happens). I saw this item for sale:
While the idea of a bodice dagger is appealing, I know it wouldn't be a practical thing for me to carry around. With my general clumsiness, I'd be sure to give myself an accidental mastectomy.
Here's another example of my general gooberness:
Thanks to the mention of poo wipes, I can transition to my next text:
The reply was from a male friend whose kids are teenagers. Obviously he must have forgotten about the "butt check" days. My son can wipe himself but he still does a half-assed job at it (pun intended). If you do the laundry in your house, you will agree that skid-mark stains are no fun. No fun AT ALL. That's all I have to say about skid-marks (make sure you read that in a Forrest Gump voice).
OK, the final paragraph of this post is actually a serious request on my part. I write about my son a lot. Usually with humor but sometimes with annoyance. Anyone who knows me knows that that child is the joy of my life. On Tuesday, April 28th, he is going to have surgery. I'm trying to balance the fine line of keeping his medical history confidential and letting you guys know what is going on. His surgery is the THIRD attempt to repair a problem he's had for the past few years. It's nothing life-threatening. Still, he's going to be under general anesthesia for an hour and a half. I know of too many instances of people dying or nearly dying because of medical mistakes. My own mother spent nearly four months in the hospital after a medical mistake caused a routine surgery to turn into weeks in the ICU with every complication known to man. So what I'm asking is this-- if don't mind, please say a prayer or send positive energy or think kind thoughts (whatever your belief system) that all will be well for my son. I thought I'd post this today and not Monday so you'd have time to add him to your Sunday prayer requests (for those of you who go to church). You might need a name-- you can just say "Gina W's seven-year old son". Below is an 8 second clip that shows him at five months old making the Best. Smile. Ever. My voice sounds unnaturally high in the video (I don't know why). I defy you not to feel momentarily happy after watching this. :)
I went to Sam's Club yesterday on my lunch hour. I sent a ridiculous number of texts while I was there. I couldn't help it. I kept seeing funny things everywhere. Funny things that I felt compelled to share with the world (OK, my friends and family). Though in a manner of speaking, they ARE my world. I kept laughing as people replied to me with their own funny comments. I was afraid security would find my incessant photo taking and laughing to be a nuisance.Thankfully no one asked me to leave. Below are the texts that I sent during my visit:
I had to sit down on a nearby bench and laugh after getting that last text.
I'm no expert in geriatric sexual attraction, but I'm thinking that my fertility wouldn't have been an issue with this guy. I think my willingness to "get busy" would have been all that was required. That willingness was non-existent, in case you had any doubts.
If you had to guess, do you think I looked up, "chickens eating fondue"? Yes. Yes I did. I found nothing. The Internet failed me for once.
The Tuesday Morning store near my work is usually my "go to" place to browse for nonsense bullshit. Also TJ Maxx. I'm going to add Sam's Club to that list as well. Shopping is generally just another boring chore that has to get done. Finding absurdity while shopping makes it a little more tolerable.
I don't really have a lead-in for today's post. Let's just commence with my weekend recap, shall we?
I saw the following items at a T.J. Maxx store on Saturday:
This would make a great gag gift though. You know the Secret Santa gift exchange that some places have? Usually there's like a $5 limit or so. This deodorant was $4.99. It would have been the perfect Secret Santa gift! Assuming you drew a male name of course. Also, this might not be the best choice for the Secret Santa gift exchange at your church or kid's school. Though who's to say?
I sent this next text on Sunday:
If I'm honest, I sometimes get kind of offended when my son makes comments about how old I am. He thinks my husband is practically at death's door since he's 11 years older than me. Last year my son asked me if automobiles were in existence when I was a child. He wasn't trying to be a dick; he legitimately wanted to know.
Today I ran a couple of errands at lunch and I saw these metal spiked shoes (that's real metal, people-- not plastic):
A friend wrote back that the spiky sandals would keep her dog from always sitting on her feet (I accidentally deleted that text-- oops).
What's funny is that the pink-zebra stripe shoes are making their SECOND appearance on my website. I saw these same shoes on clearance last fall and included a photo in a post. At this point, someone at Nordstrom just needs to give up and donate these shoes to charity (or put them in a dumpster). I mean, they look like hooker shoes but I think even hookers wouldn't want to wear these. The heel is WAY too high. I can't even imagine how painful your legs and back would ache after standing on a street corner for hours.
Lastly is an item I thought about getting for my son, just because I thought it was funny:
I had second thoughts though. Doesn't Lincoln seem kind of douchey in this image? I mean, if he was wearing a baseball cap on backwards and using Axe deodorant (or Penthouse deodorant) then for SURE you'd know he was douchey. The shirt was only $7.50 which is about what'd you'd pay for a poor quality t-shirt at Walmart. The fact that no one had purchased it meant that probably others didn't want their kids wearing an image of Bro Lincoln. It's still kind of funny though...
You know how most of my posts consist of random and unconnected nonsense? I'm proud to say that today's post actually has a THEME. The theme is food. Actually, it's just a lucky coincidence that every funny thing that I wanted to share with you happens to be food-and-drink related. So I'm going to run with it. This will probably never happen again.
I sent this text after I got home from work yesterday:
My husband took the cookies to work and people liked them. Someone even asked if the cookies were homemade. I feel a tiny bit guilty that the cookies touched the floor but any germs on them didn't detract from their deliciousness. Plus, aren't scientists now saying that a little bit of dirt is good for your body? Like it helps to build up your immune system or something? That's my story and I'm sticking to it.
I have to warn you that this next set of texts is rather long but in my opinion is worth the read. This was a conversation I had yesterday evening with the co-worker who is like a big brother to me. You would think by now he would know better than to argue nonsense with me. It's my specialty. Also, there will be a point in the story where I mention a suitcase full of dildoes. I wrote about that story in a post which is here. Here's a quick summary-- last summer I asked my friend to check a bag for me on a business trip. Later I told him I was going to fill the suitcase with pink rubbery dildoes and then fix the zipper so that the bag was barely held together. When he hoisted the bag onto the scale at the airport, all the dildoes would flop out onto the floor. And I would conveniently walk away and pretend like I didn't know him...
Anyway, I'm over 40 and I had never seen this before:
My son kept asking me what was funny as I continually laughed while these texts came in. I couldn't tell him the truth of course. It doesn't sound sane to an adult; there's no way I'd try to explain it to a child.
Today I sent this text message:
I agree with that last statement. The one on the right does look shy. It also looks the most like a real penis. You can't tell me that someone didn't notice the same thing when this photo was put in the ad. We're on to you, dirty-minded graphic artists!
Lastly is a text I sent after I got home from work today. It's Friday! Don't judge me:
I'm not an idiot. I put the glass by my side and angled my body away from the bus when it arrived. But of course it didn't fool my son:
Hello dear readers. Welcome to the first installment (maybe) of a series that we are calling, "Turn Noun For What?!" I received an email from Jessie from the blog jessiejanellereyna.com and she had the idea of doing this (her words below):
I'm preparing a graduate presentation that I'm going to be teaching in three months on a writing technique that I have been doing throughout my program. The idea is to organize your thoughts onto paper by using concrete nouns...
What I'd like to do is pick a concrete noun from a hat, and we all plan to write a blog post focusing on that one particular noun. It can be funny or it can be serious, it's entirely up to you. The idea is to take the noun and start writing whatever comes to mind...
The word that was chosen was: BACON!
Have a I mentioned before that I'm a vegetarian? Well, I am. I still cook meat for my son and husband though. I just don't care for it myself. So out of all the words that could have been chosen, this one kind of sucks for me. My original post went like this, "I don't eat bacon. The end." Still, the word "bacon" is a better choice than the first noun that popped into my head, which was "dingleberry". I had to apologize to Jessie when I submitted it. I mean, I could have lied and submitted a different word, but "dingleberry" was truly the first thing that popped into my mind. I don't know why. We don't currently have a pet but in the past we've had dogs that have suffered from dingleberries. So yes, in the big scheme of things, bacon is probably a better choice.
When I think of bacon, I think of the items below. These are legit products that are for sale on the internet.
While doing a search of the bacon condoms, this item showed up under the image search:
Yes, it's a bacon bra. Truly America has a love affair with bacon. All I can think of is the giant stains that would be left on her blouse if she really wore this. But on the upside, your breasts would probably feel nicely moisturized after wearing this all day. Oh-- I just thought of this. Hey moms-- you know how when you breastfeed, your nipples get raw and cracked? (Note to men-- this is true. Sorry to ruin boobies for you). A bacon bra might be kind of soothing on your irritated nips. Maybe. It's not any weirder than lanolin (fat from sheep's wool) which is the usual treatment that is recommended.
OK, I know I'm veering off topic here, but bacon makes me think of sausage which makes me think of this item which I recently saw on the salad bar at my local Kroger grocery store:
Bear with me as I continue my stream-of-consciousness ramblings. The dog treat "Snausages" first came out on the market in the 80's. Here's a commercial from 1984 which describes a "new" dog treat:
You know how nothing is funnier than forbidden laughter? In high school I played alto saxophone in the band. In our practice room, the trombone section was directly behind me. I remember an incident that made me nearly pee my pants and/or have a stroke from trying not to laugh. One time when we were having band practice, one of the trombone players behind me would periodically say the word "SNAUSAGES!" out loud (just like in the commercial). It wasn't loud enough for our band director to hear, but loud enough for those of us around him to hear. Our band director did not put up with ANY shit or shenanigans AT ALL. So to burst out laughing during band practice would have been a very, very bad thing. I remember being in agony every time I heard that stupid word spoken out loud. It was like slow torture. Anyway, anytime I hear the word "snausages" I remember that moment.
Perhaps I bring up my Google search queries too often, and if I do I apologize, but seriously-- the search terms are generally so bizarre and vulgar and insane I can't help but laugh. I hadn't checked for a couple of weeks and suddenly decided to do so today. Which led to these texts.
So yeah, my kid has "Taco Tuesday" at his school. I've never heard of "Cameltoe Tuesday". I thought about Googling it and then I was like, "You know what? I can live without knowing." I will not be participating in any event that requires me to show a cameltoe on ANY day of the week, so I don't really need to know the particulars.
Regarding, "Name that Porn", I just have to say that I can actually imagine such a game show. It would be on late night cable TV of course. You'd be shown a three or five second snippet of writhing flesh and you'd have to ring a buzzer if you could identify what you'd seen. "It's two dudes and a woman!" "No, I"m sorry contestant. It was two WOMEN and a dude. One of the women had rather hirsute derriere, which led to your confusion. That was a tricky one!" (Did you notice how I refrained from using the descriptive phrase "hairy ass"? It's because I'm a lady).
This incident from last night made me laugh-- and feel really old. I had this conversation with my friend Alanna, who is a wee child of 22 years old.
We grew up on Velveeta and Hamburger Helper and our rooms were painted with lead paint. And we all turned out just fine! Oh wait...
OK, this next example of my gooberness disproves my previous sentence (that I turned out OK). This happened as I was getting to leave work for the day (note-- there are typos and missing words-- it's real life, people):
I sent this text to several people, including my boss and then I asked him the following question. I included the time stamp so you could see how quickly he answered me. There was absolutely no hesitation on his part. Which is kind of annoying but not unexpected.
As I've mentioned a gazillion times before, I often run up to the nearby Kroger grocery store on my lunch hour. Yesterday I overheard this conversation:
You know how the South is full of stereotypes of weird incestuous marriages and cousins marrying cousins? This Kroger employee and his mother's marriage is not helping us to overcome that stereotype. Like, what do you call it when your father-in-law is your stepfather also? I can't help but think of the cartoon that my son sometimes watches, "Uncle Grandpa". In school did you ever have to draw a family tree as a school assignment? I feel sorry for the children of that Kroger employee and any future genealogy projects that they have to create. I guess the upside to just one set of parents and in-laws is fewer gifts to buy for the holidays.
The last thing I wanted to mention is this-- I'm doing a group post with five other funny bloggers this Thursday. It's something new that we wanted to try. I think it will be funny. If it sucks-- well, let's just say it wasn't my idea. Did I just throw the creator of this project under the bus? Yes. Yes I did. (Just kidding! It will be awesome. Probably).
Living with a seven-year old boy is a new experience for me. I didn't grow up around boys and this is my only child. The only way I can tell if his behavior is normal is by asking other moms of boys. It seems like every day there is some aspect of his behavior that is both hilarious and mortifying. Examples to follow:
Yes, if for sure does start early. It's "all wieners, all the time" at my house. Not for my lack of trying to change the subject, just so you know...
I sent this next text Friday night, if you want an idea of the rock and roll lifestyle that I lead:
That last response was from a friend with two kids. I'm not kidding when I say I've had to do the chocolate/poop/dirt check before. Several times in fact. It's like being on the worst game show ever. "What's that on your hands?" You've got two seconds to decide if a wet wipe is enough to clean the mystery brown stain or if full disinfection is required.
I could have spent my Saturday night at the ER after this incident:
(Note-- in case your're wondering, the color of my text messages is dependent on the recipient. Other iPhone users show up in blue; regular text messages show up in green).
I think I've mentioned before that I'm "pro-napping". Usually the only time I get to indulge in naps is on the weekend. This happened yesterday afternoon (Saturday):
You know how relaxing it is to to have someone rub your back as you fall asleep? You know what the exact opposite of that is? When small child stands next to your bed, stares at you and then suddenly makes the Psycho violin noise. Yeah, it's pretty much impossible to fall asleep when that happens.
This next incident makes me laugh if only for the fact that my son is generally oblivious about my appearance. I mean, if a seven-year old boy thinks your hair looks like shit, I can guarantee that you are having a bad hair day.
Consider this last text to be a friendly warning to all of you youngsters. People like to joke about the decline of the human body after 40. I used to think it was just humorous exaggeration. Listen to me-- IT IS THE TRUTH! Enjoy your days of doing the limbo while you can you 20 and 30-year olds.
I originally thought I would share a bunch of funny stuff my son has said recently. Basically a "shit my kid says" post. However, a few events from yesterday and today made me laugh so I figured I would share those instead. I didn't mean for this to be another "Not Safe For Work Post" but it kind of is. Below there will be a cartoon drawing of a man's wiener. It's from a medical illustration so you might not actually get in trouble at work. Still, there are a few obscenities here and there. If in doubt, read this post at home. I would hate for anyone to get fired because of a poorly drawn cartoon penis. If that happens, email me and I'll call your boss. Promise.
I've been home with my son the past few days while he's on Spring Break. There's a nearby private school that has an awesome playground which is only supposed to be used by the students who go there. However, when school is out of session, there's no one there to monitor the playground. That's when we visit. No laws are being broken so don't get your panties in a bunch. I sent this text while there:
After I sent this text, I waited for someone to make a funny comment like, "Um, swinging for adults used to popular. Like in the 70's." But I guess none of my friends have a dirty mind like me. The comment was truly unintentional on my part. And I really do think that swinging is ridiculously fun. I'm not a big sports person but I would join an adults-only swinging league. Maybe I should post something on Craiglist...
Do you ever have dreams that linger with you the entire day? Or at least a few hours? That happens to me a lot. I sent this while still at the playground:
I did not pay good money to look like this (below) in a professional portrait dammit!
Today I took my son to a day camp so I could go to a doctor's appointment and then to work. I had my annual appointment with my OB/GYN. Yippee! (Note to men, this is a sarcastic "yippee"). I love my doctor. He reminds me of Mr. Rodgers. In fact, I wrote about him in a post back in September. It's here if you want to read it. It's one of my favorite posts; check it out for the photos of the poor boys in the waiting room if nothing else. Anyway, I was told give a urine sample and the photo below was on the wall. The restroom is tiny so this sign is like five inches from your face when you're on the potty:
This item in the exam room caught my attention:
While waiting to be seen by the doctor I noticed this:
One of the perks to getting older is how much and how often you just don't give a shit. Plus, I've been seeing this doctor for probably 16 years. If I was a new patient at a new practice I might have made the effort to look more presentable.
The quality of this next photo is terrible but I took it while driving. It was the best I could do:
Yet another useless, non-moneymaking talent on my part. Sigh.
If you didn't read my last post, this next item will seem odd. I saw this bit of news on Twitter:
I should probably check and see if there's a reward involved. Maybe I will phone in my tip. I'm sure the police will take me seriously, right?
It's Spring Break for my son this week, so I took some days off from work to be with him (he'll be in camp at the end of the week). Yesterday was a full day of activity. First on our "to do" list: the bookstore. As we left the house, I had to send this text:
I complained to my husband later that leaving his "outside shoes" on the steps was a bad idea. He told me I needed to watch where I was walking. I may have yelled at him a little bit after that stupid comment.
We made it to the bookstore without me breaking any bones. This item was right by the front door:
What's funny is that one time my son was invited to a birthday party and I asked the Mom of the birthday boy for some gift ideas. She said, "Oh-- he likes any kind of action figure". Wouldn't it have been funny (OK, mean) to show up with a Moses action figure?
This Dora Easter book caught my attention:
Also, why is Dora wearing pink opera-length gloves? Or is she in a pink bunny suit? I hope she didn't accidentally scald her arms or something. I accidentally burned my arm on the inside of oven door when cooking our Easter dinner and I still have a pink mark. Which is why I thought of the Dora being burned. In case you were wondering...
This item was at the check-out register:
After the bookstore, we had to be at a doctor's appointment for my son. The exam room where we waited had an internal door that looked like this:
My son drove me CRAZY asking to open that door. He wanted to see what the bio-hazard materials looked like. He checked the doorknob and the door was unlocked. You may be thinking, "What kind of pediatrician's office has a bio-hazard room?" We were seeing a specialist-- an ENT doctor. But even then, I was like, "What kind of office leaves a room like this unlocked?" Finally we both couldn't stand the suspense and we opened the door. This was what was inside:
There was something creepy with a capital C about that room. My son wanted to know if there was blood in those red containers and how much. Gah! Just so you know I did not allow him him to check out the bio-hazard containers. Though he wanted to...
After the doctor's appointment, we went to a restaurant for a late lunch. This menu board was displayed prominently by the hostess station:
We went to the grocery store after the restaurant and then home:
We didn't actually see the ice cream truck; we only heard it. So I was spared from having to say "No". I've turned into a boring, practical Mom. "We already have ice cream in the freezer; we don't need to buy anything from the ice cream truck."
Within seconds of getting home, my living room looked like this:
Full disclosure-- this really isn't much messier than what the living room looks like on any given day. Usually the rug is cluttered with toys. I've come to accept the fact that it looks like we run an illegal daycare out of our house. I work full-time and I barely can keep up with the tasks required for daily living. Something has to go. In my case, I've learned to live with the toys being everywhere. I know my son will outgrown his toys in the next few years (I hope) and our house won't always look like this. That's what I tell myself anyway...
I was driving to work on Wednesday and something on the side of the road caught my eye. I texted people (NOT while driving, but at a red light) about what I'd seen. I included the time stamp so you can see how quickly my friend Ivory responded to me:
Ivory was able to search, find and send me a flag-waving squirrel within a minute. That's talent right there! The photo was actually a GIF, so the flag was waved patriotically. By the way, normally I'm not particularly fond of squirrels since they're just rats with furry tails, but I would make an exception for a flag-waving squirrel. Also funny was the response from my boss which simply said, "You're odd". I thought to myself, "Who DOESN'T see trash by the side of the road and think of a squirrel watching a parade?"
On Thursday, I sent this text while at work:
I thought about sending an email to all employees to alert them. It would have been professional of course. "If any employee happens to suffer intestinal distress today, I have in my possession ONE chewable Pepto-Bismol tablet. First come, first served. Note-- the tablet expired nearly 8 years ago. If you are suffering from loose bowels, I don't think this will be an issue for you."
Before heading to the grocery store on my lunch hour on Thursday, I pulled up the weekly ad and saw this:
Alas, I couldn't find the pie for sale. One person mentioned to me that the pie looked like fake vomit. I'm pretty sure this was supposed to be something special for Easter. Sooooo... yeah, I think I'll pass on the puke pie for my Easter dinner table.
I want to mention that I feel ZERO guilt for underpaying for the turkey breast. Over the years, I've overpaid SO many times (usually sale items that rang up full price). I figure it was karmic justice paying me back. At least a little bit.
Most people go to the grocery with the express intent of buying food. I do that too of course, but also I know that on any given trip, I'm likely to see or hear something that strikes me as odd or funny. This following incident was both:
I was startled by the man yelling. Usually the only yelling you hear in stores comes from small children; you don't expect it from full-grown men. Especially over a stupid shopping cart. Moments like this make me think that chivalry is dead.
Yesterday we went to a neighbor's house for an Easter egg hunt. The wife is Russian; the husband is American and they have two kids. Also at the party were the Russian parents of our neighbor; two Russian women and their kids and an American family and their son. The entire afternoon was spent speaking Russian, English and a bastardized version of both languages. At one point the American mom said to me, "Are you Russian or American? I heard you speaking English and heard you say 'ya'll' but then I heard you speaking Russian." I swear this is true, the first thing I thought was, "I said ya'll? Do I usually say that word? Don't I say 'you all'? Hmmmmm....."
I had to send this text shortly after arriving:
How did I get dirty you ask? I saw a small dump truck underneath the backyard trampoline. I thought to myself that the bed of the truck would be a good place to hide an egg. So I got down on my hands and knees so I could crawl under the trampoline and get the truck. Obviously I forgot that the ground was still wet and muddy from the rain of the previous two days. Which is why I spent the next few hours trying to act like a sophisticated grown-up while I walked around with my glass of wine and muddy jeans. Of course, the two Russian woman were dressed fit to kill and were gorgeous (as most Russian women are). They've probably never been muddy in their life (except as kids). Maybe dressed fit to kill isn't the right description. They weren't in evening gowns or anything. They were wearing chic sweaters and accessories and looked like they could be sitting alongside the runway of a fashion show. Or actual participants of a fashion show. So yeah, I felt goofy walking around with my stained jeans the rest of the day. Oh well. This is who I am.
Last item for today-- my always entertaining search terms. These four showed up in the past day and made me laugh (search term in black; my response in red):
As the title states, this is a "NSFW" blog post. If you don't want your boss to walk by and see you reading a sentence that includes the phrase "butt stuff" you will probably want to read this post at home.
I wanted to mention that I feel a little guilty writing a NSFW-themed post before Good Friday. So I thought, maybe I'll wait and post it on Sunday. And then I remembered that Sunday is Easter. Which would be even worse. Years ago, before one family Easter Dinner, my husband and I had a "roll in the hay". Later I thought to myself that perhaps it was sinful to have had marital relations on Easter. I mean, it's probably not prohibited in the Bible but it doesn't seem quite right. Then again, Easter is supposed to symbolize new life right? And how do we create new life? By procreating. I pretty much talked myself into believing that sex on religious holidays isn't so bad after all. Then I decided to query friends to see where they stood on this issue (be ready for typos and whatnot):
I got this response from a male friend:
This was a response from a male friend who is homosexual, hence the irony below:
I got this response from a female friend who is Catholic:
I didn't hear back from everyone in time for my publication deadline. I would have liked to hear more opinions; I find it interesting. By the way, whatever you personally believe about this issue is completely fine by me. Seriously. I don't think anyone would write anything mean in the comments section but I just wanted everyone to remember this is a humor blog (mostly).
New topic-- on a recent shopping trip to T.J. Maxx I saw this:
I imagined myself marching up to the front desk and asking to speak to the manager. I imagined waving the brush around in the air and asking, "How can your store sell items like this? Aren't you ashamed?" And I'm sure the manager would be like, "M'am, it's just a hairbrush. You're the one with the dirty mind." If you don't know what squirting is (I didn't know until a few years ago) prepare to be shocked when you Google that word. The human body can do amazing things.
While checking out boy's clothes online I saw this:
If someone actually buys this shirt, I GUARANTEE you that there are going to be some photos where the kid is angled away and the only thing you see is the "--CK ME". Just like those unfortunate Canada shirt photos that look like they say "ANAL". Like these:
There are a bunch more of these Canada/Anal shirt photos online. Just google it and you'll see. But not while at work.
Recently a male friend send me this email:
This is gross but I think you'll find it funny.
You know I'm a goober, but I had to read this a couple of times. Is gloryhole slang for butthole? I'm at work and afraid to check. I thought gloryhole was the mining spot where gold was located? I learned that from watching that show about gold miners in Alaska. I always appreciate the humor you send me even if I'm slow to catch on...
I'll let you google that at home! Trust me, it's not a butt hole and it's gross.
Okay, googled it. Obviously I lead a very sheltered life. I didn't know that such things existed! How funny. I'm over 40 and clueless.
It makes me feel a little better than a friend of mine who is sixty-ish had to ask her husband what a "gloryhole" was also. I'm not the only one who was oblivious.
I took the following photo and sent these text messages during my son's soccer practice on Monday:
She was right next to me when I was out on the field; she moved away once I left.
I mentioned this to a male friend and he told me, "It says much about you that you would think that the most attractive thing about this woman is that she does 'butt stuff'. Have you thought that maybe she keeps a clean house? Or maybe she makes a nice rib roast?" I told him I didn't think a man would stay with a woman just for her housekeeping skills. And if he wanted a nice dinner, he could always go to his mother's house for that. Also, this is terrible, but every time I see this woman at future soccer games and practices I'll be thinking "butt stuff". It's horrible but true.
Often I have random thoughts that just pop into my head. I have a pathological need to share these thoughts with others:
I remember several instances of standing outside of her stall door and yelling into the crack "PROSTATE, not prostrate". And then I would remember that we were in a bathroom full of other women; women who might wonder about another woman with a prostate problem.
This was the response from a male friend:
So I'll leave it on that note. I like the pizza quote. "Sex is like pizza; even when it's bad it's still pretty good". Truly words to live by.
I'm the worst kind of asshole-- I think I'm funny.
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