Husband: Why is the TV screen all slobbery and gross?
Me: Umm…..I dunno. I can tell you what it WASN’T from. It was NOT from me making out with Tom Selleck last night.
Me: Cuz that totally didn’t happen. It must have been the dog.
Husband: What dog? We don’t have a dog.
Me: WTF? What do you mean we don’t have a dog? How could you forget Fifi?
Me: Yes, Fifi! Our little cockapoo? The one that bit you on the leg last week?
Husband: YOU bit me on the leg last week.
Me: Nooooo. I was pulling Fifi OFF you. She was upset cuz you were ignoring her. I was trying to protect you. Your welcome.
Husband: We do NOT have a dog.
Me: HOW CAN YOU SAY THAT? It’s bad enough that you ignore her. Now you’re just being cruel.
Me: Shhhh! Magnum PI is coming on.
Now that I think about it, I’m not sure if any of that really happened. Except maybe the part about the TV screen being all slobbery and gross. Cuz I don’t need yet another restraining order.
What? You think Tom Selleck would make out with me in real life?
Yeah, me too.
Driving down Bangerter Highway, you will often see messages written in the fences that cross the highway.
In plastic cups. True story.
You will see anything from birthday messages to welcome home messages for missionaries. Even marriage proposals. They usually don’t last long. You might see the messages intact once as you drive by. The next time you pass by? The messages are most likely distorted, possibly even transformed into something totally different from the original message.
I took this picture on the way to work this morning. This message has been intact for I think 3 weeks now. I’m amazed at how much effort was put into it and at how respecful people have been to not destroy it. Of course now that I’ve said that…..well, you know.
Originally, I was gonna file this under gigglesnorts. But I really think it falls more under a WTF? Because, obviously.
Disclaimer: This is a slightly to moderately gross post. Also, being a former Navy wife, I don’t really think that people in the Navy who are on aircraft carriers are cowards or pussies. I have a great respect for all past/present/future members of our military. While parts of this post are totally accurate, my husband knows I’m kidding and so should you.
Every once in a while, the husband has navy flashbacks. Not combat flashbacks, cuz he was cowardly stationed on an aircraft carrier providing air support from a distance with all the other pussies. The flashbacks he has are of the serious hygiene issues that he developed during his time in the service, like many navy men (I SO hope this phenomenae does NOT happen to navy women) seem to notoriously develop. I’m talking about the fact that they lose the ability to keep their asses clean. That is, if they ever had the ability to begin with, in which case, the problem is seriously magnified. Along with this, they adapt an I don’t give a shit (pun absolutely intended) attitude towards these issues. In fact, it becomes fodder for jokes. I spent enough time in the house the husband shared with some of them to see these issues firsthand. Hello? Four sailors sharing a house with as many others that could fit passed out (comfortably or not) on the available floor space with no care in the world except how drunk they could get? If there was a line for the only bathroom in the house? No worries, there’s always the backyard.
Where was I? Oh yeah. These flashbacks are not pleasant for me. I mean, can I help it if I have a very good sense of smell? I realize that he would rather not be told that he fucking smells like shit (literally). I get that. I actually agree with him; I don’t want to have to tell him that either. However, I would rather not be subjected to the reminders of the days when he wore his underwear for 5 days straight. In my mind, not too much to ask for.
i was driving to a recent chiro appt
, minding my own business (which is not entirely true, cuz
i was on the way to the chiro
& cuz utah
is chock full of idiot drivers. lol
). i didn’t have much farther to go when i got behind a white truck with something hanging below the rear bumper.
i was all, “the hell? what IS that?” so i took a closer look.
& i was all, NO FUCKING WAY! that truck does NOT have testicles hanging on the back of it! but what else could have been? exactly! lucky for me, the truck was in the turn lane next to me when i had to turn to go to the chiro. i quickly take these crappy cell phone pics before we have to turn (cuz i’m a responsible driver in a sea of idiocy, remember?) i then notice that there is a bumper sticker in the back window that says:
how’s my driving
was i surprised? hell no! why wouldn’t a truck with testicles hanging on it have that bumper sticker? i was still laughing when i got to the chiro.
the next nite, i was out with some work friends, havin‘ some drinks, and some laughs. i remembered that i still had the pics on my cell phone and started to show them to the co-worker sitting next to me. this shit was just too damn funny:
i admit, there was A LOT of alcohol involved. but can you look at these pics & not laugh? i didn’t think so.
me: oh! you gotta see what i was driving behind yesterday! (taking out my cell phone)
micah: was it the truck with the dangly balls?
me: YES! (now laughing my ass off again) how did you know?
micah: i’ve driven by it too before. (he’s laughing too). it’s a white truck.
there might be a problem when an innocent lunch invitation turns into inappropriate daydreams. i mean, is like everyone out there a potential bed buddy in my mind? wtf?
i think the shock treatments have backfired. either that or they were trying to turn me into a nymphomaniac where no one is safe. that would be awesome.
update – i gotta call saying that the treatments will be increased. there was also a mention of upping the voltage. apparently i’ve become a danger to society. damn…..i was just starting to come around to the nympho idea.
another day, another chiro appt. i actually was dreading going today, cuz the adjustments still hurt like a motha, but………. well, ya know.
after the adjustments, the chiro checks my strength in my hands. my left hand isn’t that great yet, but it is getting better. he decides to work on my forearm/elbow some more to try to help. he begins to tell me about a new attachment he is getting soon. says its for the vibrating massager tool & that it really strips the muscle. and i think, ok, that could be interesting. he explains that it has a blade on it & kind of shows me with his hands what it will feel like (apparently only deeper). so i ask if it’s a deep tissue massager and he says yes. he then explains that it CAN cause bruising. wh-wh-wha-wha-what? stripping & bruising? um, what the HELL have i signed up for? and then i just start rolling on the table & i can’t stop…..