Category Archives: freakin weird shit

Fifi saved me from another possbly embarrassing situation.

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.

Husband: Huh?

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?

Husband: 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.

Husband: *sigh*

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.

Mormon Graffiti

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.

Getting a spider put on your fingernail is a bad idea. Cuz you’ll probably die. Or go to prison. Where you’ll die. Or become someone’s bitch.

Basically, nothing good can come of it, so just don’t do it.

I have acrylic nails. I have had them forever and I maintain them RELIGIOUSLY. I really don’t have a choice. I have to keep them up. If I don’t, I will have no nails. None. Cuz I’m a nail biter. No, you don’t understand. I’m a BAD nail biter (or would that be a good one?). I’ve been one as long as I can remember. I even think I remember my mom saying once that I came out of the womb with no nails. Which means I probably had it from conception. I totally blame my mom. And she is a former biter too, which supports my case. Thanks so much for the genetic defect MOM!

I go in last Saturday for a backfill, like clockwork. The nail place I go to has a HUGE display table full of examples. Anything & pretty much everything you can think of, they’ve got. Plus they rotate in some seasonal examples cuz they’re greedy mothers cuz it’s just good business. I head over to the display table looking for something Halloweeny (WTF is wrong with me? Halloweeny?). But anything I remotely give a second glance to is like an additional $30+. I don’t THINK so. Then my nail tech comes over to ‘help’ and I know I’m in trouble. Actually, ‘in trouble’ doesn’t really cut it. I’m screwed. I just can’t say no to her. So, I let her talk me into getting a spider on one of my nails. Great. Just great.

She gets the backfill done first just like normal. Then it’s time for the spider. She puts a big glob of black acrylic goo in the middle of my nail. I just KNOW that there’s an egg sac in there that’s just waiting for Halloween night to bust open and take me as a human sacrifice. But how do I tell her NOOOOO! I’m not ready to die yet! without coming across as rude? I just can’t do it. I just can’t tell her that her idea scares the living shit outta me. So I suffer in silence. And while the end result is quite attractive and season appropriate, it does nothing to calm the horrific fears I have of what is to come on Halloween.

And since then…..

I have to hide that fingernail. I have noticed the spider eyeing people around me looking for more potential victims. YIKES! I can’t let that happen! I’d go to prison for murder cuz who in their right mind would believe that a spider on my nail killed people? Plus, I would not make a good inmate. I would completely freak out. Which would leave me a prime candidate to get a shiv in the prison yard. Yep, I’m that girl. Or another inmate would corner me in the shower and make me her bitch. Neither of those are good options for me.

Also, everytime I catch the spider out of the corner of my eye, I freak out screaming, “Spider! OMG! A SPIDER!” Then I grab my stapler and start banging my hand with it yelling, “Kill it! Kill it! KILL IT!” And then my biting habit kicks in, but I CAN’T GET IT OFF!

So now my hand is a sick combination of black/blue/purple/yellow and that finger is all shredded and bloody. It’s pretty much completely useless. Which is why it took me a week to write this post. And my job is in danger of ending even earlier. I keep getting written up for being a disruption in the office. But then again, my job will be over when I get arrested for murder anyway.

Can anyone recommend a lawyer? I’m gonna need a good one to keep me from going to prison. And then I think I’m gonna sue my nail technician. It’s all her fault. Better yet, I’ll sic my spider on her. Yeah, that would work.

Gigglesnort of the week – 10/5/2009

I follow Jenny The Bloggess. She is butter. Butter I tell you. She is death by butter. Before the chorus of The Hell? hits the comments, let me explain. Chefs always say cooking with butter is awesome. So by calling The Bloggess butter, I’m professing her total AWESOMENESS! I shit you not.

I also follow another blog that Jenny’s involved with, Good Mom/Bad Mom. This one has some funny shit too, even if the Houston Chronicle tries to contain her awesomeness. You CANNOT contain The Bloggess! Anyway, while reading a recent post, a commenter (TC) provided this week’s gigglesnort:

What I wanna know is, why the fuck didn’t Santa leave THAT doll under my Christmas Tree? I was screwed.

Rock on Bloggess and all your awesome followers!

Not all flashbacks are good.

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.

the white truck with the dangly balls…..

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
call 1-800-eat-shit
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.
me: yes.

*updated* the shock treatments didn’t work…..or did they?

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.

it’s gotta be a house of ill repute disguised as a chiro office…..

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…..

i swear my cat has a secret death wish…..

either that or she is seriously sadistic.

for some strange freakin’ reason, my cat likes to play with my daughter’s rubber bracelets and my hair elastics. she takes them, carries them in her mouth, bats them around, chews on them, and then drops them in her either food dish or water dish. and it’s usually the water dish…..ew. while she does this, she’s usually crying at them. does she think they’re gonna talk back? i dunno. she mostly does this when no one is home cuz she thinks she can get away with it. it also gives us “presents” when we get home. both my daughter & i were bad about leaving those things out, so i started making sure that everything was put away so the cat wouldn’t take them.

the cat caught on. i still found my hair elastics in her water dish even though i KNOW i had them put away. come to find out that she was OPENING THE DRAWER they are in & STEALING them for her play time!!!!! this made me start to question what the hell she was thinking, cuz she knows she gets yelled at when she takes them. so why would she deliberately go into my drawer and take them? are they orgasmic for her? wtf????? i took a new tactic, closing the bathroom door. if the door is closed, then she can’t get into the drawer & steal my hair elastics, right?

wrong. cuz it never fails that someone (myself included) forgets and leaves the bathroom door open. & she’s just waiting to pounce on such an opportunity. she’s now not afraid to try this while we are home, as long as we are downstairs. she’s been caught slinking downstairs with the elastic in her mouth seeing if she can get past us without being seen. of course i get furious at her & she freaks. but does she stop doing it? hell no.

so yesterday morning, i’m getting ready for work. i took an elastic out of the drawer and set it on the counter. before i finished my hair, i ran downstairs to do something on the computer. i was gone FIVE MINUTES. i went back upstairs & continued to get ready. meanwhile, the cat is downstairs crying. sometimes she does this to make sure that she is not alone in the house. i didn’t think it was anything more than that… first. but she kept crying & crying & crying. then it doned on me…….SHE FUCKING STOLE MY ELASTIC!!!!! i looked at the counter, and sure enough… was gone. so i take off downstairs fuming, ready to KILL. the cat was under the table with my elastic. she started to bolt, & i know she was thinking, “oh shit…..i’m fucked!”. i blocked her path, so she tried to get around another direction…..blocked again. then she crouched down under the table, so she must have decided she better just take it & get it over with. the whole time i’m yelling at her & she’s crying back at me. as if her pleas would have any affect on me, cuz tomorrow she would do the same thing in a heartbeat if i let her. i wasn’t even finished ranting at her & she managed to get free & take off. damn! what a let down! lol but i finished getting ready for work in silence.

i got home from work last night. the cat came down the stairs, saw me, & bolted right back up. so at least i know the impression is still there for now……my hair elastics get a temporary reprieve.