Stolen Chuckle of the day.

 Ruminations


1.     I wish Google Maps had an "Avoid Ghetto" routing option.
2.     More often than not, when someone is telling me a story all I can think about is that I can't wait for them to finish so that I can tell my own story that's not only better, but also more directly involves me.
3.     Nothing sucks more than that moment during an argument when you realize you're wrong.
4.     I don't understand the purpose of the line, "I don't need to drink to have fun." Great, no one does. But why start a fire with flint and sticks when they've invented the lighter?
5.     Have you ever been walking down the street and realized that you're going in the complete opposite direction of where you are supposed to be going? But instead of just turning a 180 and walking back in the direction from which you came, you have to first do something like check your watch or phone or make a grand arm gesture and mutter to yourself to ensure that no one in the surrounding area thinks you're crazy by randomly switching directions on the sidewalk.
6.     I totally take back all those times I didn't want to nap when I was younger.
7.     The letters T and G are very close to each other on a keyboard. This recently became all too apparent to me and consequently I will never be ending a work email with the phrase "Regards" again.
8.     Do you remember when you were a kid playing Nintendo and it wouldn't work? You take the cartridge out, blow in it and that would magically fix the problem. Every kid in America did that, but how did we all know how to fix the problem? There was no internet or message boards or FAQ's. We just figured it out. Today's kids are soft.
9.     There is a great need for sarcasm font.
10. Sometimes, I'll watch a movie that I watched when I was younger and suddenly realize I had no idea what the fck was going on when I first saw it.
11. I think everyone has a movie that they love so much, it actually becomes stressful to watch it with other people. I'll end up wasting 90 minutes shiftily glancing around to confirm that everyone's laughing at the right parts, then making sure I laugh just a little bit harder (and a millisecond earlier) to prove that I'm still the only one who really, really gets it.
12. How the hell are you supposed to fold a fitted sheet?
13. I would rather try to carry 10 plastic grocery bags in each hand than take 2 trips to bring my groceries in.
14. I think part of a best friend's job should be to immediately clear your computer history if you die.
15. The only time I look forward to a red light is when I'm trying to finish a text.
16. A recent study has shown that playing beer pong contributes to the spread of mono and the flu. Yeah, if you suck at it.
17. Was learning cursive really necessary?
18. Lol has gone from meaning, "laugh out loud" to "I have nothing else to say".
19. I have a hard time deciphering the fine line between boredom and hunger.
20. Answering the same letter three times or more in a row on a Scantron test is absolutely petrifying.
21. Whenever someone says "I'm not book smart, but I'm street smart", all I hear is "I'm not real smart, but I'm imaginary smart".
22. How many times is it appropriate to say "What?" before you just nod and smile because you still didn't hear what they said?
23. Every time I have to spell a word over the phone using 'as in' examples, I will undoubtedly draw a blank and sound like a complete idiot. Today I had to spell my boss's last name to an attorney and said "Yes that's G as in...(10 second lapse)...ummm...Goonies"
24. What would happen if I hired two private investigators to follow each other?
25. While driving yesterday I saw a banana peel in the road and instinctively swerved to avoid it...thanks Mario Kart.
26. MapQuest really needs to start their directions on #5. Pretty sure I know how to get out of my neighborhood.
27. Obituaries would be a lot more interesting if they told you how the person died.
28. I find it hard to believe there are actually people who get in the shower first and THEN turn on the water.
29. Shirts get dirty. Underwear gets dirty. Pants? Pants never get dirty, and you can wear them forever.
30. I can't remember the last time I wasn't at least kind of tired.
31. Bad decisions make good stories
32. Whenever I'm Facebook stalking someone and I find out that their profile is public I feel like a kid on Christmas morning who just got the Red Ryder BB gun that I always wanted. 546 pictures? Don't mind if I do!
33. Is it just me or do high school girls get sluttier & sluttier every year?
34. If Carmen San Diego and Waldo ever got together, their offspring would probably just be completely invisible.
35. Why is it that during an ice-breaker, when the whole room has to go around and say their name and where they are from, I get so incredibly nervous? Like I know my name, I know where I'm from, this shouldn't be a problem....
36. You never know when it will strike, but there comes a moment at work when you've made up your mind that you just aren't doing anything productive for the rest of the day.
37. Can we all just agree to ignore whatever comes after DVDs? I don't want to have to restart my collection.
38. There's no worse feeling than that millisecond you're sure you are going to fall after leaning your chair back a little too far.
39. I'm always slightly terrified when I exit out of Word and it asks me if I want to save any changes to my ten page research paper that I swear I did not make any changes to.
40. I hate being the one with the remote in a room full of people watching TV. There's so much pressure. 'I love this show, but will they judge me if I keep it on? I bet everyone is wishing we weren't watching this. It's only a matter of time before they all get up and leave the room. Will we still be friends after this?'
41. I hate when I just miss a call by the last ring (Hello? Hello? Damnit!), but when I immediately call back, it rings nine times and goes to voicemail. What'd you do after I didn't answer? Drop the phone and run away?
42. I hate leaving my house confident and looking good and then not seeing anyone of importance the entire day. What a waste.
43. When I meet a new girl, I'm terrified of mentioning something she hasn't already told me but that I have learned from some light internet stalking.
44. I like all of the music in my iTunes, except when it's on shuffle, then I like about one in every fifteen songs in my iTunes.
45. Why is a school zone 20 mph? That seems like the optimal cruising speed for pedophiles...
46. As a driver I hate pedestrians, and as a pedestrian I hate drivers, but no matter what the mode of transportation, I always hate cyclists.
47. Sometimes I'll look down at my watch 3 consecutive times and still not know what time it is.
48. I keep some people's phone numbers in my phone just so I know not to answer when they call.
49. I think that if, years down the road when I'm trying to have a kid, I find out that I'm sterile, most of my disappointment will stem from the fact that I was not aware of my condition in college.
50. Even if I knew your social security number, I wouldn't know what do to with it.
51. Even under ideal conditions people have trouble locating their car keys in a pocket, and Pinning the Tail on the Donkey - but I'd bet my ass everyone can find and push the Snooze button from 3 feet away, in about 1.7 seconds, eyes closed, first time every time...
52. It really pisses me off when I want to read a story on CNN.com and the link takes me to a video instead of text.
53. I wonder if cops ever get pissed off at the fact that everyone they drive behind obeys the speed limit.
54. I disagree with Kay Jewelers. I would bet on any given Friday or Saturday night more kisses begin with Miller Lites than with Kay.
55. The other night I ordered takeout, and when I looked in the bag, saw they had included four sets of plastic silverware. In other words, someone at the restaurant packed my order, took a second to think about it, and then estimate d that there must be at least four people eating to require such a large amount of food. Too bad I was eating by myself. There's nothing like being made to feel like a fat bastard before dinner.

My New Mentor

I was thrilled to find this terrific advice on writing and I thought I would share it.

HOW TO WRITE GOOD

by Frank L. Visco

My several years in the word game have learnt me several rules:

1. Avoid alliteration. Always.
2. Prepositions are not words to end sentences with.
3. Avoid cliches like the plague. (They're old hat.)
4. Employ the vernacular.
5. Eschew ampersands & abbreviations, etc.
6. Parenthetical remarks (however relevant) are unnecessary.
7. It is wrong to ever split an infinitive.
8. Contractions aren't necessary.
9. Foreign words and phrases are not apropos.
10. One should never generalize.
11. Eliminate quotations. As Ralph Waldo Emerson once said: "I hate quotations. Tell me what you know."
12. Comparisons are as bad as cliches.
13. Don't be redundant; don't use more words than necessary; it's highly superfluous.
14. Profanity sucks.
15. Be more or less specific.
16. Understatement is always best.
17. Exaggeration is a billion times worse than understatement.
18. One-word sentences? Eliminate.
19. Analogies in writing are like feathers on a snake.
20. The passive voice is to be avoided.
21. Go around the barn at high noon to avoid colloquialisms.
22. Even if a mixed metaphor sings, it should be derailed.
23. Who needs rhetorical questions?

Hey Kids

Just stopping in to see how the kewl kids be.  I have been using my blogging time to work on my book and it is coming along...

Slowly....

Of course I will expect you all to buy ten copies.

Hope you are all enjoying your summer.


Chris

Hey kiddo.  It is time I take a break from blogging for a while.  I have too many balls in the air and don't have the time nor the energy to keep up on this.

Of course I will still check your blogs like always.

Open Fields, Flowers and Sunshine? BLAH

Every time I return from visiting New York it feels like I am leaving home all over again. I know I belong in the city as I lament over the loss of the noise, traffic and grime because sunny greenness of Florida is both blinding and annoying. So as usual I am frantically contacting head hunters to find me a gig up north to get me the hell away from this clean living and family oriented town. When nothing comes up, I will settle back into this pick up lovin’ town until my next trip stirs me up once again.


Speaking of southern way, bringing a hard core red neck chick to the Big Apple was a hoot . It was her first visit so all her preconceived notions about Manhattan based on television and movies. We stayed midtown so I decided that we weren’t going to take taxis but were going to utilize the subways the entire trip. I had to talk my friend down from frantic when I mentioned this to her as she expected dark, dingy, platforms with no other people but murders and rapists. I guess Hollywood prefers to depict the NYC of the 70s and 80s. Clean, graffiti free, well lit stations and trains don’t really make good television.

So we shopped in China Town, ate in Little Italy, were entertained by Broadway and hit a good portion of the 250 plus Starbucks on the island.

Anyone know of a decently priced walk up available in the East Village? You know I must be really homesick if I am willing to forgo an elevator and doorman.

My daughter has shitty taste in music.

There, I said it.

I have been pushing this fact out of my mind for several months lately in hopes that she would outgrow the hideous genre that she has adopted as her style. 

Dare I name it?

Hip Hop and Top 40.

Lady Fucking Gaga??   God of Music...Say it isn't so!!!

She has been raised on a mixture of classic rock and new alternative.  Musicians that have something to say and use their talent to say it.  Her father is a musician as is her uncle and her brother.  They play real instruments, several each as a matter of fact and yet, computer generated CRAP is what she adores.

I have to wonder; where oh where did I go wrong?

More importantly, is there some kind of recovery program I can get her into?

Pride

There is school pride.

Gay Pride

Lesbian Pride

Pride of Country

                                                 

Pride and Prejudice

                                                 

Pride Prejudice and Zombies...

                           

But the stupidest pride is the one that leaves you heartbroken and alone.

                                            

Now that kind of pride is just fucking sad.

My vacation plans are driving me crazy.  I know I am a spoiled bitch and have no right to complain but my girlfriend is expecting my feedback on everything from hotels to breakfast delis to subway lines vs taxis on our fun filled trip to Manhattan next week and my family is attempting to get my opinion on beach front condos for summer vacation.

And I simply don't give a shit.

Really...

I want to go away.  I do.  I just don't want to have to think too much about it.  Tell me where to be, at what time with approximately how many credit cards and I'll show up with a bathing suit or parka or whatever the situation dictates.  

I have to admire both of their tenacity in trying to find the perfect hotel at the perfect price in the perfect location.   I just would admire it even more if neither cared what I thought.  I really have no opinion other than those limited by budget restraints and dates.  In other words, I have the when and how covered,they can feel free to cover the where.

This is why I like cruising.  There is a lot less thinking involved.

My link of the week are some travel horror stories.  Enjoy and have a nice weekend kids.

Signs Signs Every Where There Are Signs.

I am one of those people that believe in destiny and earthly signs that show us the way and lead us to that destiny.

Naaaaa.  But I had you going there for a sec, didn't I?

What I believe in is that we are all just stumbling around this planet bumping into one another, shoving the nit wits out of our way and attempting to move forward to get to that ultimate prize of death and decay.

If we are lucky, along the line we'll find a few laughs, some worry free sleep and a great lay or two.  That is it.

Like most of us, I have had my heart broken.  Even pined over people that I should have moved on from a lot sooner.  But when all is said and done,  being heartbroken is a selfish state of mind in that you didn't get to keep that person that you wanted to do things for you.   That person who was going to save you from yourself and make each day on that road to death a little easier to take.

It occurs to me is that person is usually a hellavalot of freakin' work.  Because while they are being your person, you've got to be theirs.

How annoying.

So my thought is to put out a personal ad that reads:

Witty, charming and perfect in every way, especially in her own mind, woman seeks great guy.  Must not watch American Idol or have any needs  at all.  Yearns to take care of another human being emotionally, physically and financially while getting nothing in return except an occasional thanks and a smile.

Think I'll have any takers?

Words of Wisdom

Life doesn't give you unlimited chances to get what you want so you'd better take it when it is in front of you.

AND

Don't try to dump your coffee out the window while going 60 mph on the freeway.

Whatcha got for me?

I'm NOT With Stupid.

As my constant readers are aware, I do not do well with stupid.  The Mt Dora Urologist that posted the ridiculous sign above is a prime example.  As a matter of fact, I think I will send an "IM WITH STUPID" tee to his wife.

 I had the pleasure of catching Dr Jack Cassell who I will henceforth refer to as Dr.Pee Pee on Fox news this morning.   He was waving around someone else's summery of the health care reform package and quoting from said printed internet copy.   When asked why he didn't get involved sooner, he said he would have if he had read it and been informed earlier what it was all about.

 If he had been informed earlier...

This bill affects my livelihood as well.  I had read through three drafts of 2500 plus pages before the final bill was passed.  I had summarized each page, put neat little circles and arrows and a paragraph on the back of each one, Googled what I didn't understand and formulated an opinion as to its merits and disadvantages.

Dr. Pee Pee has no plan to ever read what he is so actively criticizing on every news center that will have him.  Dude, if you're going to have an opinion, please at least educate yourself as to what you are protesting against.  My cheeks literally burned when I found out this guy was essentially my neighbor and colleague.  I was so embarrassed for him and how he was humiliating himself publically to everyone that knew the “facts” that he was spouting off about were incorrect.

 This law has a lot of problems.  A  L O T.  There are parts of it that I would like to stand up in Congress and shout “WHAT THE FUCK WHERE YOU PEOPLE THINKING?” Although the AMA came out for the bill, I don't expect all medical professionals to be sheep and line up behind their representing organization in Congress.  What I DO expect is for a physician to take the time to know what is going on in their country as it is happening and not attempt to play fourth quarter quarterback equipped with a soccer ball and sprained wrist just for the publicity.  

Dr Pee Pee, I hope for your sake this goes away because I don’t think you’re going to get many referrals from my neck of the woods.  Very few want to be associated with your idiocy in any way.  Our patients with bladder problems that are no longer going to be rejected as pre existing won’t be sent to you even though they are now insured.  Our patients who are still in school, over 22 and are now covered under their parents insurance won’t be sent to you.  In a couple of years, when hundreds of thousands of new lives will be covered in our area? 

You won’t be seeing a dime of that money either.

Which is all well and good if you are standing up for your principals.  

Perhaps next time you'll take the time to find out what those principals are.

Easter is coming and I have to tap into my savings account.

As children, my siblings and I figured out  that waking up early on Easter morning looking for hard boiled eggs that none of us particularly liked, was bullshit. After a year or two of mom and dad trying to recall where they hid the suckers as we watched on uninterested, a new plan was created;  buy the hollow plastic ones and fill them with cash.  Now THOSE were worthly of the time it took to find them.

If you're thinking we were selfish, greedy, little kids...good call.

As the years and generations have passed, those little hollow plastic eggs that contained pennies, nickels, dimes and quarters now are filled with good ole American paper money.  If an egg makes noise when shaked, it means someone has found the booby prize of coins.  Poor kid gets less than a buck for his or her trouble.  Awwwww.

So I am off to the bank to get fifty bucks broken into different denominations so I can honor the rising of our dear saviour Jesus Christ by encouraging greed and promoting capitalism.

Have a happy Easter or fun weekend depending on what floats your boat.



  

Just Thinkin'

Kermit sings about how difficult it is being green.  Well, I got news for him.  Being beige, brown, black or yellow ain't so hot either. 

I have to wonder why the older one gets the harder it is simply to just be a person.  I thought I would have all the answers when I got to my 40s but all I have is a mountain of new questions.  It seems once I think I have answered one of them, two more pop up and I realize that I will never grasp even a tiny bit of all there is to know and learn.  There simply isn't enough time.

So I read what and when I can and I listen to people that know a hell of a lot more than I will ever know as I ignore the people who just think they do.  I take the time to try to understand the other point of view even if it makes no sense to me personally.  Occasionally I even allow myself to be swayed.  I envy the people that jump in with both feet and I pity the ones that are too frightened to take a chance. I try to find a balance of those two that I can live with.

And I wake up every day knowing that time isn't always on our side.

Do you think wearing teeth whitening strips as I sit at my desk at work is inappropriate?

When the only time you can perform personal hygiene rituals are at the office, you know that you are far far too busy.  I actually snapped at the little Korean guy giving me a pedicure on Friday evening to “stop yammering on the phone and hurry the fuck up”.  Since I don’t speak a work of Korean I am sure he was telling his coworker that I must be under a lot of stress in a caring and sympathetic way.

Or maybe not…

 Does anyone know how to say nasty ass bitch in Korean?

 I am quite accustomed to it being crazy busy at work but now it is getting completely out of hand.  On top of all the things that are going on politically including the Senates inability to repeal the Medicare SGF before they all went to Daytona Beach to tan for spring break,  I also have issues with being without a personal assistant to abuse help me. 

 It shouldn’t be my job to locate a plumber to unclog a toilet.  I don’t even want to know about the toilet let alone have to give information of the particulars of said clog over the phone.

 Just….no…

 Of course with my last two personal assistant disasters and my lack of any qualified person currently on staff, I am hesitant to rush the process.  I want to find the right person who can take my shit, not piss me off, and still manage to use the brain God gave him/her without having to ask questions regarding every detail.  Don’t get me wrong, technically my last two assistants were really perfect. 

 If I could combine them. 

 Unfortunately, I don’t think they would be willing to undergo any kind of genetic splicing and cloning for 12 bucks an hour and a free cell phone.

 So now I will remove my white strip and get on with my day.  I need to file my nails at 1 so I’d better move it.  Have a happy week kids.

One of my facebook "friends" asked me today if the baby my son was holding in a picture was my grandchild.  Umm, no, it is my niece and by the way, go fuck yourself.

Well, that just struck me in the ole ego as much as being invited to a ménage à trois and finding no one else showed up.

I find little consolation in the fact that she hasn't seen me in more than 20 years and technically my son is old enough to have fathered a little bastard.  I am not ready to be looked upon as a grandma.

I was on a high for a few weeks when the "Guess Your Age" guy at my local county fair had me 10 years younger than I am.  This after guessing the woman in front of me two years older than she actually was.  I guess she didn't get the memo that the Florida sun will give your wrinkles wrinkles.

But all that went down the drain with that one question.


Is that your grandchild?

I was actually shocked when I read that some of my kewl kids are already grandparents.  I would have never guessed it.  Libby was recently so blessed, Tammy is expecting her first and I was surprised to see Kay is old enough to have grandbabies.  If I didn't mention you and you are indeed a nana or pop pop you must really look like shit, I didn't realize you had grandkids.  Hide them and deny, that is going to be my motto too.

I have solved this ego problem by doing what any other normal person would do.  I defriended the bitch and took that damn picture of my son and my niece out of my photo album.

Excuse me, I must go now and  photo shop my new facebook profile picture.

Since it is Friday, my link of the week will be photoshop disasters.  I can't do any worse than those!

Have a great weekend kiddos.

Golden to Silver Val has provided me with a circle of friends award.  While I'd much rather have the cash, I accept this award and would like to thank all the people who got me where I am today.... 

A crazy ass bitch with a bad attitude.

I am even more grateful for this award because recently I have had nothing of interest to write about and someone including Christine as a friend is most definitely blog worthy.  I am usually the one with the restraining order taken out against me.  That being confessed, there are rules and even though I am not good at following rules in general, I will do my best to comply for Val's sake. 

I need to do this fast because I need to find Vals phone number and address to start making plans for our summer vacation.  Since I plan to call her many times a day as good friends do, I need to give her the opportunity to increase her cell plan minutes.  Oh hell, I may as well move in since that is what friends do?  Isn't it?  I don't have much experience.  I wonder if she'll allow me to use the bathroom first in the mornings.

Anyway...here we go:

First, you post about your award, advising who gave it to you and create a link back to their blog.  (check)

Then you list five things that make you happy.

I am happy:

1. When SCM is involved with a new computer game so I know he won't be bugging me all evening.
2.  When SCM cleans the entire house before I get home because he wants to play his new computer game and not get bitched at first.
3.  When I receive a nice new credit card in the mail with a huge limit.  (Of course that soon turns to dismay when the first bill comes.)
4. When I come home and the chocolate cake I hid in the back of the refrigerator the night before has not been found.
5. When my next door neighbor walks though the dog shit on the curb that she didn't pick up from her mutt the previous day.

Last, pass along this award to five bloggers who make you smile.

For this you have to look over at the Kewl Kids Table.  Everyone of those folks make me smile when I see they have updated. Although I don't always comment, I am always reading.  You all keep me going throughout the shittiest of days and I appreciate it more than you know.  So accept this friend award and post your five happy things.

I am so not in the mood to deal with the work thing today. It is barely 9:30 and I have already had a patient crying in my waiting room about how he is going to lose his house and it is our fault because we won't testify that he is total disabled in order for him to get social security


Sorry dude but it might have something to do with the video tape provided to us with you and your buddies running around a basketball court doing more twists, turns, blocks and shots than the entire Magic team has managed this season.

I have to wonder what these people are thinking? If they have a pending lawsuit against their employer for a workers compensation injury, why wouldn't they assume that catching them doing something they claim they are unable to do wouldn't be in the insurance companies best interest? I once saw a man in a wheelchair that stated, he is unable to get up without falling, leave his appointment, get out of his chair, left it into the back of his pickup truck with no difficulty, get in and speed off without a care in the world.

Dumb ass.

Unfortunately, when you deal with injuries, you are going to get a lot of players. People that will go through needless procedures and tests in hopes of making their cases stronger. People that make appointments for medical treatment and then proceed to spend 30 minutes bitching at the clinician for filling out their disability form "wrong". Those folks that provide him or her with a completed form with the "correct" answers and tell him or her to just "sign here".

The biggest problem that arises from the players are that we in the field become cynical  which makes the person really in need of help be doubted.

Of course it isn't fair or right but unfortunately, it is human nature.


Here are some stories taken from the ER that make me feel much better about what I have to deal with.  Have a nice weekend kids.

Did you even wonder who the people are that choose which television shows stay on the air and which are shit canned?

Well, those folks would include me and my dysfunctional clan.

Yes, we are a Nielsen family.  Since American Idol is still on the air, I don't think we are doing our job quite well enough.  Honestly, choosing us makes a lot of sense.  We have the bitter and bitchy mom workaholic who would rather watch paint dry than any of the shit shows currently being broadcast, the bipolar father who can't stay on one freakin' station for five minutes at a time, the son who watches slash em movies by day and porn by night and the daughter that is perpetually engrossed in Sponge Bob Square Pants 24/7 on Nickelodeon or, on the very rare occasion it isn't being shown live, Nick  on Demand.

If that is not the typical American family, I don't know what is.

Often I am tempted to put PBS on all four televisions and go to work.  Unfortunately, the system nags you to verify you are actually present every so often and I've yet to train the dogs to hit the OK button when the light starts to flash. It is on my list, however.  Somewhere between fetching a ball and not eating their own shit.

However, if you have a program that you're attached too, let me know and I'll turn it on before I do something more important, like play Mafia Wars on facebook.

Enjoy your day.

If today is the first day of the rest of my life, I think I am going to find myself a nice secluded cave in which I can curl up and die.


I would donate my body to science but the thought of all those pre med snots playing catch with my eyeballs and hide the organ with my liver freaks me out a bit. Okay, a lot.

As a peruse my calendar I see annoying court dates where I am acting as an "expert" witness. If you actually knew me, this would seem very funny to you.

The only thing I am expert on is which take out place has the best fried rice and what kind of shoes go with which bag.

Between the court appearances I have endless days of pointless meetings with vendors who want to sell me shit I can't afford, marketing firms that want me to pay them money I can't afford so I can "make more money" to afford to buy shit off the sales people and months on end of giving my dogs their heart worm medication. Can you see why the cave idea is so attractive?

Well, to be honest, I have one weekend trip planned next month. It is a jaunt to Manhattan to show a redneck friend the big city. That is going to generate a week worth of blogging material..maybe two if she wears her Confederacy flag sweatshirt.

Have a nice day kids.

How about some silly work pictures for Friday's site of the week?

No?

In that case, you're fired.

Home Remedies.

I just pulled my bottom lip away from my teeth, took a package of McDonald's salt and poured it directly onto a canker sore that has been bothering me for a couple of days.

It is no longer bothering me.

IT IS FUCKING TORTURING ME.  Sting, ouch, whaaa.

WTF was I thinking???

Oh, I know.  I was thinking that my mommy always did this to me when I had a canker sore as a kid and it seemed reasonable to put salt on an open wound at the time so hand me the shaker dudes and let's party.

As I sat back down at my desk with a hint of tears in my eyes, I decided to google whether or not this home remedy has any merit.  Now most intelligent people would have done this prior to inflicting severe pain upon themselves but I never claimed to be most people and the jury is still out on the intelligent part.

Lo and Behold!  I found this...

How Stuff Works says a home remedy for treating a canker sore is to do the following:  Combine 1 teaspoon salt, 1 teaspoon baking soda, and 2 ounces hydrogen peroxide. Mix and rinse your mouth with it four times daily. If the taste is too strong, or the tingle uncomfortable, dilute with 2 ounces water. You can also just rinse your mouth with lukewarm salt water. Or, if you're brave, just apply a little salt directly to your wound.

So apparently Mom was right.  OH and I am brave instead of stupid for not knowing gargling with salt diluted with water was an option.

Who else has a odd home remedy from childhood?  Did it turn out to be true or a myth?

Time To Make The Donuts

Yesterday was my 16th 29th birthday.

  Which makes me actually 45 if you've been educated by the southern USA school system.

For some strange reason, I was recalling my first clock in, clock out and get fucked in taxes job.  It was at a Dunkin Donuts across the street from my high school.  I may have blogged about this before but I am old, bitter and my memory is for shit so deal.

It was also my first experience into the world of flirtation from a male that didn't still have pimples and jerked off nightly to the Farrah poster on their bedroom wall.  (As legal adults, they could now jerk of to the current Penthouse. )

Looking back I am sure I was smokin' hot in my pink cap and smock with the smell of grease seeping out of my pores but the attention was something pretty freakin' ego building even if it was by chain smoking, coffee drinking guys with Guido accents and bad hair.

My job was a donut finisher.  A few days a week after school I would pull trays of donuts out of steel lockers and make them into boston creme or blue berry or coconut or whatever was missing in the display cases.  (Note, NEVER eat the coconut, the sugar sauce they use to make the coconut stick to the donut is disgusting.)

At 5pm the owner and his wife went home and two of us girls were in charge until the "Time to make the donuts" guy came in at midnight.  One of us worked the counter and the other one had to clean the donut finishing area.  Believe it or not, I would always choose cleanup.  I had a great system for this.  I would use a regular garden house that I would drag in the back door and spray everything down.  There were drainage holes in the floor so after 20 minutes of spraying it down I would use a floor sweeggy thingy to push all the powdered sugar and jellied goo down the holes.  It was a brilliant plan that would have never occurred me.  Fortunately, I was specifically forbidden to do it this way on my first day due to some health department rule about hot water, contamination and blah blah. 

So I got that all night duty out of the way in about a half hour and then proceeded to stand at the counter flirting with the customers and putting counter payments in my tip jar.

I can't believe they had the nerve to eventually fire me.

Oh, and that thing about cops and donuts? Totally true.  Every night several area cops would come in for donuts and coffee on the house.  Not that my employer offered that particular perk but having the cops around at night while two young girls ran a shop alone?  They could have anything they wanted as far as I was concerned. 

What was your first job kids?

Dating hints for Real Men



There are lots of ways to ruin a date. Here are a few things NOT to say on a date...



I really don't like this restaurant that much, but I wanted to use this 2-for-1 coupon before it expired.



I refuse to get cable. That's how they keep tabs on you.



I used to come here all the time with my ex.



Could you excuse me? My cat gets lonely if he doesn't hear my voice on the answering machine every hour.



I really feel that I've grown in the past few years. Used to be I wouldn't have given someone like you a second look.



It's been tough, but I've come to accept that most people I date just won't be as smart as I am.


Do you like this shirt?  My mother picked it out.



Since you look like a liberated chick, I'll let you pay.



Remind me to give you the number of my sister's plastic surgeon later.



We really need to hurry.  I need to drop you off and be at the bar.  Bambi goes on at 10.



Couldn't resist sharing a good forward.  Have a great week.

Men. The Other Red Meat

It is time I did a post centered around the main theme of this blog. Talk about tangents, I've covered everything from mammograms to the ole yellow gloved finger up the ass and that was just my last post.


Men. No, REAL men. The kind of man that only seems to exist in my imagination.


Since I threatened to blow SCMs head off and leave the brain and blood splatter as a fond memory on my living room world, it is clear me that the relationship has again taken a wrong turn.

Currently I believe he is taking to the authorities about entering the witness protection program.
Since we've established that a REAL man doesn't watch American Idol, perhaps I need to make myself clear as to what a REAL man does do...


1. A REAL man can fix anything back to full working condition using only the shit that is in his garage.
2. A REAL man drives himself to the hospital when he accidentally sliced a chunk out of his leg with the chain saw he was using to build his woman a nice deck.

3. A REAL man knows that when a woman has her hair up and a pair of ratty sweats on, romance isn't in the cards but asking her to pick the DVD while he makes the popcorn is.

4. A REAL man can make a women feel safe even after taking a wrong turn into the worst part of town with only his presence as a weapon.

5. A REAL man has a hobby that is outdoorsy like golf or fishing or playing touch football with his buddies on the weekend. His hobby definitely doesn't involve titty bars, internet porn or hookers.
6. A REAL man can program a DVD to record, change the ring tones on a phone and can find and empty an temp internet folder.

7. A REAL man changes oil, washes his women's car and vacuums it out just because he loves her. He can also shrug off when she points out the water spots he missed.

8. A REAL man understands that his woman may make more than him and isn't emasculated by it but also doesn't spent his time sitting on his ass plotting how to spend it.

9, A REAL man loves Led Zepplin and The Who and not only doesn't know who Keith Urban is, he doesn't give a shit.
10. A REAL man smells like cut grass and soap and not cigarettes and yesterday's underwear.

11. A REAL man can still make his women feel like the most gorgeous women in the room even after she just tripped on her feet and fell on her ass.

12. A REAL man would never own a cat unless his women insisted and then he must pretend to hate it when others are around.

13. A REAL man understands that in a two person working family when he runs a vacuum or cooks dinner he didn't do anyone a favor.

14. A REAL man always fights for the check but will let you win sometimes.

15. A REAL man can tell a good joke and doesn't screw up the punchline.

16: A REAL man will sit on the floor playing a board game with his kids and lets the work emails and calls wait.


Okay, perhaps I am too picky. Maybe I could compromise if someone only had say ,,,fifteen of those traits.


See, I can be flexible.

So if you know a guy like this. Please send him my way. And if you have a guy like? I don't want to hear about it you lucky little shit.

To my lady readers..what do you want in a REAL man?

Today was the day I dread for the other 364 days, 8736 hours, 524160 minutes...well you get the point...

It was time for my yearly female examination.

There is nothing I enjoy more than laying spread eagle with my feet in stirrups having a virtual stranger shove a metal instrument up my vagjayjay and a gloved finger up my bum.  Well, unless you count lighting my cigarette off the stove and setting my eye brows on fire.  That was fun too but not quite as much.

What was even more disconcerting is my doctor is very chatty.  I am sure your daughter is doing just wonderful at college, making loads of friends and enjoys the meal plan but could you hurry it along a bit? I've got a root canal at 5.

As I squish out bowlegged looking for a rest room to wipe the gobs of lubricant off my bottom, I get handed the dreaded mammogram prescription.

FUCK.  Didn't I just have one two or seven years ago?  That should be enough. I have to say that I am one of the fortunate women who is well endowed in that area.  From what I understand the gals with the itty bitty titties have to get pulled and manipulated a tad more.  Me, I just pick those babies up, plop them on the slab and let them go to town.

Hmmm, maybe that was too much information but seeing I already mentioned that a gloved finger was shoved up my ass, this seems benign compared to that.

Only 31 million seconds until my next appointment.

No link today.  I am far too traumatized.

It was about that time that I needed to upgrade my cell phone.  Even though I was perfectly happy with the one I had that was a foot long and required my passenger to stick an antenna out an open window, I was getting too many complaints. 

So I did what ever conscientious consumer does.  I researched reports, compared pricing and features and shopped plans. 

And if you believe that I have a very nice sturdy bridge in Brooklyn I am selling cheap.

What I actually did was ask opinions.  Friends, coworkers, people on the street....

"Hey Dude!  Can you do anything special with your cell phone?"

Which more often than not was followed by "Get the fuck away from me, you freak."

Finally an ex friend told me I might like a Blackberry.  I say Ex because I hate his fucking guts and would like to slap him and his mother for giving birth to him.

Currently I am looking down at it while it vibrates and flashes and I don't know what the fuck it wants.  Should I feed it?  Does it want to go for a walk?  Does it need to potty?  I have no idea but it is damn persistent what ever it is.  I tried to press some buttons but all it did was make some chime noises which I assume is its way of laughing at me.

I have two choices.  I can google the instructions and learn how to use it OR I can put the fucker back in the box and send it back to hell  AT&T.

I will let you all figure out which one I am going to choose.

I have been proposed to four times in my life.

What does that mean?

Basically that there are four really stupid men in this world.

Two of them I married, one I considered marrying for about 2.3 seconds and the fourth I can't even remember his last name.    (I feel a little guilty about that one).

As much as I hate to admit it the days of bewitching men seem to be over for me.  I don't know many dudes that are seeking 40 something women with cottage cheese thighs and saggy boobs.  Even if they are 36 double D.

36 Double D at 30 is hot.  36 Double D at 40 means picking those baby's up off my stomach to strategically maneuver them into a breast reduction bra so I can button my blouse.

For a while I refused to admit I was no longer the hottest ticket in town.  SCM still thinks when I leave the house I have men following me around like the Pied Piper of Hamelin but the reality is, the only men that are following me are holding "Please give what you can. God Bless you" signs.

I guess it is time to trade my big girl panties for granny panties and admit to myself the future belongs to the hot young thangs with long hair, tramp stamps and low rise jeans.

Fucking whores.

Well, Monday came around damn fast, didn't it?  One minute I am gleefully playing computer games on face book in the comfort of my own home and the next I am playing facebook computer games at work.  As the main support of my family, this is indeed my cross to bear. 

Sigh...

There seems to be lots of whispering around the ole office today regarding my special snowflake employee that supposedly quit last week.  He is here today but I am not sure if he is working out his notice or is pretending it all never happened.

Either way I don't give a shit other than the effort it will take to replace him.  I am certain there are many gossipy busy bodies that google property values of their coworkers and patrol the hallways so they don't miss anything beating the pavements looking for work. 

Although I am not so sure there are many grown men that are willing to shout that they ARE QUITTING in front of a patient they recently performed surgery on. 

I'll just do the best I can.

Comment of the day by Coffeypot:

 I would just walk up to his desk and say, "I thought you quit. What are you doing here? SECURITY!!!!" .

Beautiful.

It Is All About The Journey

When writing a book, it is all about the journey. Even a humor novel based on trailer trash, missing teeth and navigating dog shit in the yard has to take the reader some place.


Which is why I am blocked.
Where the hell am I taking these people other than the market to pick up Captain Crunch, Bosco and a carton of generic cigarettes? There has to be some sort of growth other than the one growing on the back of the antagonists ear due to bad hygiene and an inflamed pore. Each chapter need to bring the reader closer to a resolution besides the protagonist finally getting her stolen EBT card back from her ex boyfriend who lives in a Who Farted tee shirt and Pathmark pick a pair flip flops.
Sigh…

Well even though I am shelving yet another one, I did get a small blog entry out of it so it wasn’t entirely pointless.

Hope you enjoy your week.

Although I liked to consider myself a fair and decent boss, I was told in no uncertain terms yesterday how very wrong that idea was.

I guess it had something to do with calling a 50 year old man a big baby and applauding and whistling when he shouted that he was quitting.

I am not going to get into the issue but suffice it to say, I was totally right and he was totally wrong.

Naturally.

Unfortunately, he won't really quit.  The Gods haven't been smiling down on me that much lately and that would be too good to be true.  He'll simply spend the weekend fuming and come back Monday pretending the incident never took place.

Although I did put his job on Craigslist just to fuck with him.  Hopefully he'll notice it when he is trying to talk himself into how much better off he'd be working elsewhere.  Shit, there is only one job for my profession in town.   Ut oh, it's mine.

That's gotta hurt.

So lets make our website of the week all about me, shall we?  Check out some more really bad bosses and have a good weekend.

Ash Wednesday

Today is Ash Wednesday. For my Jewish readers, that is Yom Kipper light. You do get to eat as long as it isn't charred animal flesh. Well, unless the deceased is post sea dwelling. Then chop off the head, serve it up with white wine sauce and bon appetite.


As tempting as it is, I will not be attending mass and getting dirt smeared on my forehead this year. I refuse to waste the 100 bucks I spend on a facial last weekend to clog my pores with ash and oil. Religion is one thing but a big red zit on the center of one's forehead can be quite traumatic. I think God is with me on this.

When I was a teenager, Ash Wednesday was a time to go hang out with friends for a few hours on a school night getting stoned and shooting the shit. We just had to remember to smear our heads with pot ash before we came home. I think God was with me on that too. I have no doubt after seeing a platypus that the big guy parties.

Today is the beginning of Lent. A time for penitence, prayer and sacrifice (Don't you just love Wikipedia?) I've read some blogs by people that are publicly proclaiming what they plan to give up. I will give up what I have given up for the past 25 years.

Lent.

Sorry but I simply can't get on board with the thought that God expects me to give up my Starbucks Carmel Frappucino for 40 days. He can't be that cruel.

Many of you know that I send my kids to Catholic school and I force them to participate in the senseless rituals. Does that make me a hypocrite?

Fuck yeah, but if I had to do it, they have to do it. Life is unfair and the sooner they get used to it the sooner they will realize that life sucks and then you die a meaningless death all alone as your soul is snuffed out and everything about you is forgotten forever.

The good news is that 40 days gives me just enough time to shop for a great new pair of shoes for Easter.

I admire the folks that can update their blog each day.  I am not nearly that creative or interesting. 

And I am sure you kids don't want to read an entry like this:

Woke up, pooped, ate Cherios that aren't my favs but that were on sale buy one get one free at Publix, had to poop again (the fiber I think) took a shower, applied makeup, dried hair and proceeded to work.  Gave the asshole that was doing 50 in the fast lane the finger as I roared around his piece of shit hybrid and made it to work late as usual anyway.

Got my coffee, listened to three people tell me about their weekends and how incredible their kids are, tuned them out while playing the Rocky theme song in my head, did a little work, ate an apple, felt a little gassy (more fiber) and went to a meeting.  Tuned THAT out, (Go Rockeeeey), and came back to my office.  Did a little more work, checked Failblog and Failbooking and my Face Book Mafia Wars game until it was time for lunch.  Opened two packages of instant oatmeal, added the water and put it in the microwave for three minutes. Walked away, came back to oatmeal paste.  Chastised myself for not remembering it is supposed to be TWO minutes.  Added water to make it watery paste, said fuck it and ate it anyway.  Felt like I had to poop again. (Read the Oatmeal box. Oatmeal has fiber G-d Damn It!)

Mediated a dispute between two employees also known as prevented a freakin' cat fight, told them to close the door on their way out and read some email.  Spam, spam, porn, porn, make your dick bigger, make your dick wider, spam, spam, important message, last chance, huge savings, spam, porn, spam, make your dick AND tongue longer (that one I read).

Downloaded an new audiobook from Audible called Helping Others Be Efficient Like You and did this blog entry.

Who the hell wants to read THAT shit?

It is FRIDAY!

I am laying in bed with my squishy pillow and blankie all comfy and snuggled in when the phone rings.

" 'llo"

It is one of those freakin' telemarketer recordings...

"Please hold while we connect you to the next....."

Click.

W.T.F.

One day I decide to sleep in before a doctor's appointment and some damn recording dials my number and puts ME on hold.

I have to wonder, who are the people that actually hold for the next available...

I mean a good percentage must or these annoying solicitations wouldn't continue to use this method.  They are nothing if not clever to find ways to get your ear.

I must confess, I am not on the do not call list.  Since I have an unlisted number, I don't get called that often and have never bothered to register.  Perhaps today is the day.  I really desperately needed that extra hour of beauty sleep.

My web site of the week is...

Fun With Telemarketers.  Just some clever ideas to fuck with them.

Have a great weekend boys and girls.

It has taken years of careful research and trial and error but I finally have figured out the kind of gentleman that is perfect for me.

He enjoys eating the heel of the bread.

Maybe you think this is a little thing but I have mentally calculated how much bread I have disposed of in my lifetime and the numbers are huge. I am talking enough to feed a small village in Africa for a week.

Although with my luck, they won't like the end of the bread either.

White, wheat, honey wheat, whole grain, rye and on very special occasions I have been known to buy a loaf of pumpernickel..each and everyone one has two pieces that end up in the trash.

We do have a duck pond in our neighborhood but the request to go feed the two leftover pieces to the ducks no longer bring excitement to the Princess but eye rolls.

Maybe she knows the ducks are sick of the end pieces too.

So if I could just find a guy who not only doesn't mind the heel of the bread but actually LIKES it and looks forward to it, my world would be a perfect place.

Well, provided he finishes the last 1/4 of the soda bottle as well. That always ends up flat and poured down the sink.

Oh cranky patients, you are the bane of my existence.

There are three types of nasty ass patients that make me want to rip the script for percocet out of their hands and consume the entire bottle myself;


1. The "I am in pain and you all can fuck yourself" patient. This type of asshole is much easier to deal with than type 2 or 3. After all, if a patient has a legitimate medical condition that makes them a bit testy, I've got to at least sympathize.  Even as they are informing me that I am the most inept person on the planet and should be rolled in dog shit and consumed by flies.


2. The "There is nothing physically wrong with me but I will pretend in order to get attention, disability or a big fat lawsuit settlement." Often all three. This is the patient that has quit their job stating a bad injury and gambled their family's financial stability on the outcome of a couple of medical opinions. These contemptible folks think that if they scream really loud and stomp their feet the staff will come up with a disabling diagnoses that will put them on the dole for the rest of their lives. You have to mentally picture a person that thinks they have hit the jackpot by receiving $900 bucks per month for them and a couple of hundred each for their snot nosed brats from social security.

Close your eyes. Got the mental image? Good. Moving on...


3. The "I am a paying customer and I want it done yesterday" patient. These are the people I would gladly throw off the balcony and experience great joy at the resulting splatter. Since they pay their insurance premiums and a copay, they think that everything should stop because they walk in the door. They need a form filled out and are informed that it will take a couple of days to get to? Patient 3 uses their favorite term:

THAT IS UNACCEPTABLE.

Term is also used when they can't get an appointment at 2:30 on a Saturday because they are only available at that time. Or their surgeon of choice was called over to the hospital due to a bad motorcycle accident and would they mind seeing another clinician for their post op check? Or could they get off their cell phone so the nurse can take their vital signs? Unacceptable, Unacceptable, Unacceptable.

Looking forward to a simply wonderful week.

Hope you all have the same.

Is it normal to be sitting besides your life partner and daydreaming about plunging an ice pick into his heart for no reason other than he happens to be close enough to do so?

Didn't think so.

Well, could it be normal to be disappointed when you find out that the internet friend he talks to half the night; the person you had hoped was an emotional affair in the making, turns out to be a 50 year old man with the same star trek game addiction?

No, huh?

Okay, one more try.  Is it customary, when your significant other inquires as to what he can do to make you care for him to respond, "You can stop breathing and I promise to remember you fondly?"

Fuck.  This reconciliation thing isn't going as well as we both had hoped.

Comment of the day by Jay:


I used to work with a woman who said she was tired of her coworker constantly hanging around her trying to be her friend and even asking her out once. He was harassing her, he just liked to be around her. But, she found him really annoying. I told her he was just a little needy and lonely because his wife had recently died, expecting her to be understanding.

Instead she turned to me and said "Well I don't blame her." haha ;-) 

A woman after my own heart.

I had to fire two employees for cause this past week. Although they really left me no choice, it is difficult to let go of long time employees even if they fucked up.

The first one got caught manipulating her time card for extra hours. Before you ask, yes, it is entirely possible she had been getting away with it for six years she has been with me before it was noticed by a busy body fellow employee.

The second was pissed off at me for not giving her the promotion she wanted several months ago and proceeded to tell my new hire how much the company sucks, how "clicky" the staff it and how she can't wait to find a new job and get out of there.

I simply helped her along on her quest.

I let them both go the same day. Dealing with one teary eyed worker is enough, two was a bit too much even for the likes of me.

Friday is our staff meeting and I can tell you this right now; there is a lot of tossing and turning going on this night with the less than stellar employees. If nothing else I think I succeeded in letting them know that, while I try to treat people well and fairly, if you do not show me respect, I won't be keeping you on.

No matter how long you've gotten away with it been with the company.

In keeping with my being a bitch boss, my web site of the week are some bad boss stories. When I read these, I feel a little better about these two women trying to figure out how they are going to pay their rent next month.

Let's see.  What have you kids missed.

Friday one of my clinicians verbally attacked a surgery tech and called her a lazy fucking bitch in the middle of clinic.  Damage control on that one was really pleasant.

Sunday the office was broken into and our 65" LCD TV used to entertaining people waiting for loved ones is now in someone's van trying to be sold for pennies on the dollar.

Monday morning I got to see the CSI unit at work and it isn't half as interesting as it looks on television.


Monday afternoon I had to fire a long time employee for adding an extra couple of hours a week on her time card.

Monday evening I was stuck in the office until 9pm for all the locks to be changed.

This morning I didn't have time for my usual peanut butter toast breakfast and picked up a breakfast sandwich from Mickey Ds.  My stomach is now in rebellion mode and threatening to reverse gears. 

So...no time to blog.  Hope your week is going better.

Welcome to Friday's Web Site of The Week.  Instead of more Fail, today's site if full of Win.  People can be so creative.  Take a look at the fun. 

Have a nice weekend kids.

Breaking The Rules

I really believe that employees do their best work when they are free to be creative and not have supervisors constantly looking over their shoulder. Micro managing be damned. Do your job and I don't care if you surf the Internet and tweet ten times per day. I mean not that I would ever use the office computer for anything besides issues directly concerning the company but my dedication is to the extreme. I do not expect the lay person to emulate moi.


Unfortunately, every few months I have to rein in the folks that begin abusing my "do your job and leave me the hell alone" policy of staff control. I have to post a list of rules. Personally, I think these issues are common sense but I kid you not, each ones of these have been broken in the past six weeks or they wouldn't be on the list.



1. Do not put urine in the break room refrigerator. There are no exceptions to this policy.


2. Do not bring your children to work with you when they are sick and they can't attend school. There isn't enough hand sanitizer in the office to make people feel secure as they watch your 7 years old's snot roll out of her nose and pool on your desk.



3. It is very important that you phone in when you are unable to work. Claiming your co workers saw you sneeze twice yesterday doesn't count as letting us know you are sick.


4. You are responsible for keeping your work place clean. Please do not leave half eaten, opened boxes of donuts under your desk. (And then act horrified when your chair is covered in ants the next morning)



5. Having your friends stop by and hang out in your office for two or three hours isn't permitted. Having them surf a work computer while you shout out the address of your favorite You tube video, also not permitted.


6. You must clock out if you leave the building for lunch. It is highly unlikely when you come back with shopping and fast food bags that you ate at your desk while working as you claim.



7. Personal phone calls are to be kept to a minimum or on your break times. When I am trying to reach your extension for an hour, walk in and you are discussing the tacky shoes Maria wore at the rehearsal dinner, you aren't going to be able to spin that into a work related issue.


8. Keep your cell phone on silent. You may love your ring tone of the Star Wars theme song but when it is combined with your office mate's Ludaris' How Low and Keshas TikTok I tend to get a bit testy.


9. We have a dress code. You have signed off on it. You can even buy the appropriate clothing and have it payroll deducted. Please tell me where you read that pink converse with neon green laces and a white tee shirt that says Did You Eat A Bowl of Stupid for Breakfast are appropriate for a medical facility?


10.If you are scheduled to work at 8 am you should clock in at 8 am. Having your friend clock you in at 7 am so you can get some overtime to pay your past due cell phone bill won't endear you to my heart. As a matter of fact, that one will get you fired.


Thank you for your cooperation in these matters.