Saturday, June 28, 2008
Thursday, June 26, 2008
Oh noooo. That would be too freakin' easy.
My sniffles have to turn into coughing which turn into intensely painful hacking which then proceed to turn into right AND left lower lobe pneumonia.
I mean shit, if I'm going to be sick I may as well go for the entire sympathy factor. Which I am demanding and rightfully deserving due to the big ass needle filled with stinging antibiotic injected into by cute but tender tuckus. It was either that or the hospital and I don't do hospitals unless I am birthin' a baby or exiting the universe and as far as I know, neither is applicable to the current situation. At least I have not lost my sense of humor. I made the LPN laugh when she told me my Oxygen level was below 80 and I asked what she expected, when I was given no time to study.
Guess you had to be there.
Now I am stuck in bed blowing into some useless plastic gadget that has a point but I have yet to figure it out and trying to not scream out in pain like a sissy bitch every time I cough.
Hope your week is going better.
Monday, June 23, 2008
They say a cold is three days coming and three days going. According to that formula, I should have been on the road to recovering just about……….wait for it…….
Those theys are fucking liars.
I am not better than I was yesterday, as a matter of fact, I am not better than I was ten fucking minutes ago. I am miserable and whiny and I want my Mommy.
I would call her except she would come over, feel my head, pronounce I have no fever, roll her eyes and go home to call everyone and tell them how she had to spend the night taking care of her eldest…who, as it happens, is such a wimp.
So there will be no calling of the matriarch tonight.
Good thing too because my daughter has been on the phone with her friends for hours. She’s nine. What the fuck do they have to talk about for hours? Old times?
Whatever, at least she is out of my fucking hair so I can wallow in self pity to my dogs who have not left my side all day. Although that could be because I haven’t had the strength or motivation to feed them but I prefer to think of it as loyalty at its most pure and simple.
Maybe I do have that fever.
Isn't it amazing how much snot can actually come out of a person’s nose? Where does this goo come from exactly? A must have snot rags totally one or two gallons of the junk with no end in site. What? Too much information. Hey, I didn't invite you here, you came all on your own.
Mother did just call to pronounce that “Summer colds are the WORST! You will probably be sick for weeks.”
Thanks, Ma. Love you too.
Thursday, June 19, 2008
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
This is Dane Cook being funny.
See, no difference.
The guy’s not funny. Not funny at all.
Not even mouth goes up with a hint of a smile funny.
However, the dude sells out where ever he performs.
He sold out Madison Square Fucking Garden for God’s sake.
So I got to thinking….whose asses were filling the 20,000 seats at the Garden? What demographic has the inability to distinguish funny from notsomuch funny?
I knew it couldn't’t be the baby boomers. We invented commentary stand up after having just about enough of the pies in the face and the one ringydingys of Laugh In.
Now seeing that I didn’t see many walkers or canes in the aisles, I had to surmise that it is the people under 30 that think this crack pot has talent.
Ignoring the fact that he is accused of stealing other people’s jokes…he obviously picked some bad ones, his stand up has no punchlines. They are just ramblings about…well about nothing that go nowhere.
True I grew up to comedic genius of Richard Pryor and Steve Martin. Later Robin Williams, Sam Kinison progressing into the likes of Lewis Black and Dave Chapelle.
Then this…this….I am sorry but I can’t call him a comedian..this guy comes along who lacks creativity, imagination and quite obviously a sense of humor.
My 19 year old son thinks he is hysterical. When I ask why, he is unable to explain it. When pressed he replied “I just can relate to things he says.”
“What? The one about kicking doors in for no particular reason or about how manipulative and stinging a woman can be with words. Can you tell me specifically what it is you “relate” to?”
“Mom, you just don’t get it.” Which is very true.
Perhaps you do and if you do, please take a minute to comment and explain it to me. I must be missing something.
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
That being said, one particular...let's call it a quirk, is that I absolutely hate to use a toilet that hasn’t been flushed by the previous resident that had squatted on the throne. I also won’t leave the kids off at any pool that is not my own but that is neither here nor there. As a matter of fact, it is always here and never there.
But I digress.
Being that I refuse to plant my patookie on a bowl containing anything but clean water, I am inclined to look before setting my fat ass down.
Which is what I did last night in my own home.
I have never been quite so glad I had this particular habit until I took my usual quick glance in and saw something that seemed to move under the toilet seat.
I gasped, jumped back and what the fucked in that order.
Fortunately, I no longer had to go because I had peed my pants.
I took a deep breath and stepped back to see what could have crawled on my ass, up my ass or around my ass if I had not looked.
As I peered in, breath held, I saw that there was a fucking frog in my toilet.
Yes, you read that right. A frog.
Quickly a slammed the lid shut and rested my ass on my cushy toilet seat cover to prevent its escape.
Now I too have read that frogs can turn into princes with a kiss but I wasn’t the least bit interested in having Prince Charming anywhere near this particular throne at the moment not to mention where those lips have just been.
I racked my brain for some kind of solution to the problem.
Frog in the toilet….frog in the toilet…..frog in the toilet.
I had nuttin.
I didn’t want to try to flush it down…one it was a cute little froggy and two, I have heard they have enough problems just being green.
However, if I ever wanted to use the master bathroom bowl ever again, something would have to be done.
I have to say even the most annoying of men can come in handy for unexpected circumstances….like frogs perched under toilet seats. SCM being available quickly came to my aid.
As I bit my knuckle, he opened the lid like it was an every day occurrence. Apparently Kermit didn’t think so because he used all the strength in those little froggy hind legs to propel himself out of the toilet and onto the curtains across the room.
I screamed a scream that any director would have been proud to use in the worst of slasher movies.
SCM calmly went to the curtain,,picked the thing up bare fucking handed and walked it outside to live in peace and harmony in its little froggy world.
I plan to suffer from post traumatic stress syndrome for years to come.
Monday, June 9, 2008
Friday, June 6, 2008
To market, to market, to buy a fat pig;
Home again, home again, dancing a jig.
To market, to market, to buy a fat hog;
Home again, home again, jiggety-jog.
It is great to be home.
I really hate being on a large ship where everyone is catering to my every need.
Thank God I am back in my real life of dog shit carpets, unmade beds and kids asking what's for dinner.
Whew, I almost got used to that hell.