Fresh, Hot Wastes of Time

Mad at your boss? Cow orker? Husband? Dog? Don’t just stand there – shoot it!
Hurdy skurndom, der Googlen bork, bork, bork!
31337 900913 534R(h, d00dz!

Well, the ‘open links in new windows’ works again… but at the expense of my meta keywords tag. If that tag is in place, the code doesn’t work.

Flummoxed. Totally.

Hey, dammit. I told you to sign my GuestMap. Do it. Now.

Please?

Dammit.

Siamese cats. It’s probably not what you’re thinking.
Do you breastfeed and live in the Bay area? Go break a world record.
New non-lethal weapons in production.
Must. Have. 80s. Compilation. Now.
Idiosyncratic comfort foods
Hello Kitty psychological profile
He’s just bitter because he can’t get laid.
Many womens are tickled them nose by Kleenex, and sneeze. Please enjoy!

I went to my gym orientation today and oh. my. gosh. the personal trainer was just cute as a little puppy dog. I swear if he had a tail, he’d wag it. I just wanted to pinch his cheeks, especially after he told me that I don’t look 32. I wasn’t hot for him or anything, just wanted to pat him on the head.

Then he called me “ma’am”. And he mentioned that he wasn’t even 21 yet.

WTF was I thinking? I mean honestly, pinch his cheeks? Am I really getting to be that old? Jeez, I was just his age when I moved to this burg, and now I feel this huge age gap.

It doesn’t help that I just read a Good Housekeeping article that said peri-menopause (a.k.a. The Change) can start as soon as 37.

Shit.

I was eating a Krispy Kreme donut once and it was the glazed kind and little pieces of the glaze kept falling off. I picked up a little piece of glaze from my keyboard and ate it, only it wasn’t a little piece of glaze, it was a a little piece of fluff.

Now I pay attention to what I eat.

Well. We had an interesting dinner tonight. At around 8:30 we realized that 1) the two year old was still napping and 2) we had dinner to cook. I ran up to get the kid while hub got dinner preparations together. The menu was grilled marinated cornish game hens, garlic mashed potatoes, and wilted spinach salad. He had to go get the fire going, which normally takes a little while. He kept squirting lighter fluid and the fire kept *whoomf*ing up into the trees (our lot has no place that’s not completely canopied by trees, which is ok because we’re vampires as you can tell by the time of most of my posts).

Anyway, he tossed the birds on the grill and ran inside to wash out the pan. When he came out they were on Fire, with a capital F. Somehow he managed to get the fire out but now we had blackened grilled marinated cornish game hen.

By the time the birds were done, it was nigh unto 10:00 and the two year old was desperate for food, so much so that she kept stealing cheese and ham from the 10 month old and claiming she was “sharing”. Hub ran out to get the birds. He put them all into the pan, started to pick up the pan, and emitted a scream of pain. He thought he burned himself on one of the chickens. He hollered for a pot holder but I wasn’t fast enough or something and he ran inside to run his hand under cold water. At which point I look up and see that he’s brought a hitchhiker with him. A big huge gigantic angry red wasp, perched on the kitchen cabinets and looking big and huge and angry. I whip the baby out of the high chair and hold out my hand for the two year old saying “come here come here come here now now now it’s really important, baby” and she says…

come on… all together now…

“NO!”

So I grab her by the hand and hustle her into the other room and slam the door between us and the angry huge red wasp and paddle her, then worry because there are no curtains on the windows in that room and I wonder if the neighbors think I’m a child beater now.

In the meantime, hub dissects (well, more like cleaves in two) the big angry red wasp with our best most expensive butcher knife.

As we sat down to dinner (after putting the meat tenderizer and baking soda on hub’s hand; you’d think we were having it for dinner) I idly mentioned that maybe the wasp stung the chicken also, and one of us would take a bite and get a mouthful of venom.

I was joking of course, but hub didn’t think it was funny. He has no sense of humor sometimes.

Regarding the “Aw man, I was looking for some videos for me and my dog” quote a couple of entries ago… that really happened.

I was at Pleasureland with a (female) friend. We were just there to gawk and giggle. Some guy walked in with a dog on a leash. The clerk told him he’d have to take his dog outside, and that’s when the famous line was spoken.

I laughed so hard that I very nearly wet myself. One of those times that you can’t even take a breath and start sounding like a strangled chicken and tears and snot are running down your face.

Now the hell of it is that I can’t remember who I was with. I thought it was M.S., but she didn’t comment on the quote, so now I’m thinking it wasn’t her. Was it A.W.? J.B.? I just don’t know.

The 10 month old has found some sort of unlimited source of black grease somewhere near my desk. Perhaps it’s in the slides for the keyboard drawer. She goops up her fingers and then slimes them all over my desk, mouse, clothes, chair, legs, carpet, and dog. The two year old has taken to telling everyone, “I love you, Smelly!”

My life is an episode of The Simpsons.