Tuesday, May 31, 2005

No, I Just DON'T Learn. Thanks For Asking.

There is a REASON why Slip N Slides say that no one over 5 feet tall or 100 pounds should use the damn thing.

What it SHOULD say is more like:

"Hey you dumb cow! Don't even think about trying to bellyflop down this thing? Have you not NOTICED that you are almost WIDER than the slipping surface? Plus we feel we must point out, since it is obvious that you have a complete and troubling disregard for your own safety, that your swimsuit has a large metal O placed strategically in the crunchy bony center of your chest. Not to mention the fact that we have heard that you are already a flashing menace to the neighborhood children. Just don't. Really. Don't."

The Chortling Fools at the appropriately named Whamm-O Corporation

PS - Our attorneys would like to add, "We told you so".

PPS - If you by any chance have video, could you please send us a copy? We like to show stuff like that at the company picnic. It REALLY boosts moral. Thanks.

Sunday, May 29, 2005

Life's Ruff

My dad just got a new dog - a seven week old yellow lab puppy - and I could not BE more jealous.

When my son was almost two years old we found out that he allergic to dogs, cats & dust mites. Since his allergies induce asthmatic reactions (i.e. he can't breathe) they tell us he will never outgrow it (and you know it MUST be true if "they" say it).

I love dogs. L-O-V-E dogs. Big slobbery dogs. Just want to maul them whenever I see them. The knowledge that I can NEVER have one EVER again is pretty depressing. Even when he grows up and moves out we figure we STILL can't get one because that would be tantamount to saying "You may not visit us EVER."

Yes, I know, my son is a million billion to the power of infinity times better than any animal.

But still.....

Saturday, May 28, 2005

It's the Next Exit After Jelly Belly & If You Get to Jelly Knees You've Gone Too Far

Last night, as I was getting the kids their last drinks of water, I decided that I needed a snack. Obviously they couldn't know about it because...

1 - I didn't want to get THEM snacks

2 - I was about to pilfer candy from their stash

So I did what any one would do in my situation - I shoved that bag of jelly beans down my pants and sauntered up the stairs like I owned the place.

Thursday, May 26, 2005

Time Flies

Five years ago I had a dog named Tori. I loved her like crazy. She accompanied me on numerous adventures including traveling via U-Haul at least three times.

Now I have no pets what so ever.

Five years ago I had a mortgage that I thought was ridiculous.

Now I have a mortgage that is EASILY twice as much.

Five years ago I drove a Jeep & I LOVED driving with the top off - skin cancer be damned!

Now I have a SUV that I chose due to the high safety ratings.

Five years ago I could never find a movie to rent at Blockbuster because we had already SEEN everything remotely interesting when it was in the theatres.

Now I have been to less than a handful of movies in the past twelve months and I don't even KNOW where my friendly neighborhood Blockbuster is. If I can't TiVo it, I just don't see it.

Five years ago I had a fabulous job that let me travel all over the country and they NEVER questioned my expense reports.

Now I could spend an entire week without even getting in my car & I would be perfectly happy.

Five years.

Five years ago I gave birth to my son. He is so beautiful that it breaks my heart to look at him sometimes. I just can't wrap my mind around the fact that this amazing, gorgeous, sweet, funny, delightful little creature came OUT OF ME!

Five years ago I became the luckiest woman in the world.

Tuesday, May 24, 2005

Hey Honey? Your Village Called....

"I love the smell of WD40. It's smells like the stuff they spray in bowling shoes. You know, that spray?"

Monday, May 23, 2005

Here's Your Sign

In the paper this Sunday there was an article for a new book entitled "Is He Cheating on You? 829 Telltale Signs."



What ISN'T a sign? Anything? Anything?

On behalf of women everywhere, I apologize to men in advance for the amount of freaked out and suspicious chicks this unmitigated shit is going to create.

Unless you ARE cheating (and I can tell because the vents in your car have been moved). In that case... GO TO HELL!!

Sunday, May 22, 2005

"Time Enough at Last"

On July 18, 1988 I created a monster.

I have no idea why, but on that day I decided to keep a journal of books I was reading. I was 19 years old.

I know part of the idea came from my determination to read all of a list of "100 Great Books". I can't even remember where the list of 100 books came from, but I know it was a catalyst because the list is in the front of the book before my book entries start. I know I also wanted to keep track of some of the amazing quotes I was reading.

And I have.

I have kept track of books through numerous boyfriends, three engagements, one marriage, two children and through the ownership of a dog and a cat. I have kept track of quotes that have given me strength, and pause, through my many ups and downs.

I have kept track of authors, good and bad, through 15 homes (I think - I loose track) and moves in and out of five states. I kept track when I believed in God with a big G. I kept track when I didn't even believe in me. I have read famous authors, classic authors, authors that would probably be heartened to know that their book was actually read, and I had the privilege of reading a book before it even became a book.

I have read books that I own, that I've borrowed and returned, that I've loaned and lost. I own a great debt to libraries all over the country. One library I actually owe a book and I feel guilty about that to this day.

The book of books, covered in a bright floral cloth, threatens to spill its guts every time I pick it up. On day one of starting my blog, I wanted to transfer all the knowledge from my book of books to an alternate location. I wanted to share. I wanted some of these powerful words to touch others as they have touched me.

Some of the books are so deep inside me that just typing their titles brought visions flooding through me. Some I don't even remember reading - but they are few.

So 17 years later, here it is - 405 books and counting.

If you are ever bored, or need a good quote or maybe just want to see one of the mysterious ingredients that makes up the cocktail of "me", go to the sidebar and hit "complete list with excerpts".

I still only have half of the "100 List" read. I keep getting distracted.

Saturday, May 21, 2005

Filet O' Soul

Okay, I don't normally share quizzy things - even though I L-O-V-E to take them (and answer those burning questions like "Are you Rizzo or Sandra Dee", etc.) - but I think this one is cool-aid. So go, try, share.

You Are a Seeker Soul

You are on a quest for knowledge and life challenges.
You love to be curious and ask a ton of questions.
Since you know so much, you make for an interesting conversationalist.
Mentally alert, you can outwit almost anyone (and have fun doing it!).

Very introspective, you can be silently critical of others.
And your quiet nature makes it difficult for people to get to know you.
You see yourself as a philosopher, and you take everything philosophically.
Your main talent is expressing and communicating ideas.

Souls you are most compatible with: Hunter Soul and Visionary Soul

And since quizzes are like Lay's (translate that as you will).....

I'm 50% Normal, an Idealist, a Charmer, I act like I'm 28, and when I die at age 82, with my hand down my pants, there is only a 23% chance I will go to hell.

Friday, May 20, 2005

My New Motto

They Say I'm No Good Because I'm So Good.

Thursday, May 19, 2005

Training for the Darwin Awards

I am about to make a large group of people happy. That would be AJ-Is-A-Complete-Dorkus-Malorkus Chapter 216. I am their god and occasionally I bring my particular quirky religion to the masses.

When I say "the masses", I mean "my cul-de-sac".

In this episode, I'm at Best-Neighbor-Ever's house, discussing how she is going to take my son along to amuse her middle son while they attend the oldest son's baseball game. Oldest son is decked out in his baseball finery and hanging about the garage while the younger maggots dart about and stickify everything (as it IS a scientifically proven fact that all children under the age of five have permanently sticky hands - multiplied to the exponent of pi during popsicle season).

Plans made and goodbyes said, I grab both my kids scooters and turn to head toward home. Lazy and not terribly forward thinking being that I am, the thought pops into my wee little brain, "Hey! Why CARRY these two scooters home when I can just RIDE them?"

"Cool!" my slow processing brain thinks back to itself.

I put one foot on N's red & black Scooter of Death and the other foot on M's pink & purple Disney princess festooned Scooter of Doom and point myself down BNE's slightly sloped driveway. IMMEDIATELY Death Scooter and Doom Scooter head for opposite compass points. Apparently they had some sort of scooter tiff earlier and were taking their aggressions out on me by plainly displaying that they were not on speaking terms. Fortunately my wit (yeah, I said wit - singular - as it is blatantly obvious that I do not posses wits - plural) returned in time to hop briskly off and between the two whilst they amscrayed.

"Heh heh", I say suavely, realizing that I have narrowly avoided disaster right in front of two grown women and about eight impressionable children, "Maaaaaaybe I shouldn't do that."

"I'll try it", BNE's nine-year old little slugger says.

"Okay!" I say (that's right people, you should NOT, under any circumstances, trust me with your children)

Then I hear BNE's voice echoing out of her garage, "No, you don't! Your coach will KILL you if you break a leg!"

"Oh yeah. Um, well, that probably wasn't the best idea" I mutter while I shrug at the kids like "What are ya gonna do about these grown-ups?".

Now, little Casey-at-Bat is looking slightly dejected at the loss of my attempt to maim him, so I gamely say "I'll race you!"

"All right!" he crows and, questionably, gloms on to the Disney Princess Scooter of Doom.

I queue up next to him on the Scooter of Death and yell "GO!!"

He takes off like greased lightning and I wobble down the driveway. Now this is where I should point out that this is a scooter for a four old - my foot covers the footboard completely and the handle bars are about the height of the my kneecaps. I KNOW I can't yo-yo-homey maneuver this thing so I try to do the next best thing - clown my way down the driveway.

You can see this coming a mile away, can't you.

That's right. My invitation to join the Harlem Scootertrotters will NOT be arriving any time soon. I somehow managed to cross my right foot OVER my left foot (which was on the scooter) and wound up rolling like a gangly squawking tumbleweed down into the cul-de-sac (I want to say "ass over teakettle" but I'm never REALLY sure where the teakettle fits into the picture) with the scooter bouncing into me in several KGB sanctioned hurty spots. Not only am I probably swearing (it happened so fast, it's really only conjecture at this point) but I am wearing cotton gym shorts and no underwear so I am also probably giving the entire ensemble an exxxtra special treat.

When I stop rolling, I pop up like the proverbial Jack spluttering, "OKAY!" and trying to look cool in that way that only cats can after they have done something completely asstarded. I'm sure I didn't fool anyone.

"Well, I'll just go in now!" I chirp brightly as I TRY not to limp towards my sanctuary, scooter in tow.

Damage sustained - giant swolen egg of a bruise WITH layer of skin missing - top of left shin, giant matching bruise (skin intact) on back of right shin (that, amazingly, I did not even discover until two days later), scraping and bruising of right shoulder (and I SLEEP on that side, damn it!), cuts and bruises to inside of right knee and, worst of all, scrapes on my right wrist.

Why were the wrist scrapes worst of all?

Because I didn't REALIZE I had bleeding scrapes on my wrist until I had emptied HALF a load of lights (you know, hanging things, turning things right-side-out) and therefore spread my weepy gooze all over god knows what.

I know for SURE there was swearing going on when I figured THAT out.

Wednesday, May 18, 2005

I Didn't Call You A Swallow, I Said YOU SWALLOW

On the way back from the bank today I stopped at a red light (not because I WANTED to stop, mind you, but all the law abiding suckers in FRONT of me stopped thus blocking my way). On the corner to my right was a gas station. In the parking lot of the gas station two little birds were on the ground just GOING AT IT!

I mean they were just all talons and tail feathers. I've seen birds fight on the ground before but they usually just get a few digs in then fly off to fight in the trees or mid-air or whatever. But these two were on the ground THE ENTIRE TIME we sat at the light.

It was Mutual of Omaha's Wild Kingdom at it's finest. Animal Planet would have been ALL OVER these two moronic little birds rolling around, duking it out. I could picture Steve Irwin crouching around them, there on the asphalt, saying "Krikey! These two little fellas are really givin' it a go!"

Seriously, it was AWESOME!

As the light turned green and we slowly drove away, I looked back and saw a big ol' snarly redneck standing by the gas pumps, arms crossed over his swollen hairy beer belly, just standing watching the show. Front row center.

And, god help me, in that brief and shining moment, I wanted to BE that redneck.

Tuesday, May 17, 2005

Grab Some Joe and Smoke 'Em if You Got 'Em


My name is AJ.


I am thirty-six years old and I am an utter disgrace to womanhood. (hides face in shame - possibly some sniveling)


Well, I've been putting on make-up for, what, I think about twenty years now. (sniff)


Yes, I know it's a long time. And that's the point. You would think by now that I would be able to put on mascara and not stab myself in the fucking motherfucking balls shit gaaaaah! fuckity-fuck-fuck eyeball. But apparently I can not. (again, hanging head in shame)


Monday, May 16, 2005

Who Says Nebraska is Flat?

I put my foot in my mouth so often that when I buy new shoes I should not just try them on and walk around in them, I should taste them too. "Talk First, Back-Pedal Later" is my motto.

When I was in about 8th grade, I went to Nebraska to spend a good chunk of the summer with my mother's family. There are thirteen total cousins, my brother being the oldest & me being the next oldest. We only saw them every couple of years or so as my mom was the only one who "got away".

Anyway, I was staying with my cousin J who is, I think, fourth oldest. We were walking through her tiny town which was gearing up for some sort of festival. You know the type - where all the ranch / farm people herd into town for a weekend of palooza-ing boondocks style. The men get drunk, the women gab, the kids run in sticky filthy feral packs and did I mention the men get drunk?

It was early in the afternoon, and I spied an older lady walking down the other side of the street. She was, as I would delicately say now that I know a little better, exceedingly well-endowed. So much so that not only could she not see her feet, but if the two of us crouched in front of her, she wouldn't be able to see us either.

Smart-mouth that I was/am, I stage whisper, "Wow! I bet her children didn't starve!"

J gives me a funny look and says, "No. They didn't."

I say something like, "Oh, of course you know her. This is a small town and I forget how everyone knows everyone else."

"No," she says smirking at me, "I know her because she's my grandma."

I gaped at her open mouthed for about ten solid seconds, then I just burst out laughing. She and I laughed until we were bent over and had tears streaming down our faces. I think I apologized about a million times.

Thank goodness they hadn't already had the parade or god knows what my shoe would have tasted like.

Saturday, May 14, 2005

Caught in the Undertoad

Have you ever had those days where you just feel.... off?

Something feels wrong, or at the very least not right, but you just can't put your finger on it. On the rare occasion that I feel like this and hub asks "what's wrong?", I tell him that it's The Undertoad (if you don't understand the reference, hie thee to the library and check out The World According to Garp - by our friend John Irving which is worth a read, Undertoad or no Undertoad).

It is the slow relentless tightening between your shoulder blades that you just can't shake off or stretch out. It is the uneasy gnawing in the depths of your innards. It means that there is something lurking beneath the surface that you can't see, but you can feel it's benevolent gaze upon you.

I think it is just the accumulation of little things drawing together to create a Frankenstein's monster of dread and guilt over things left undone.

Maybe it's just the weather.

Maybe I just need an Extra Large Coke.

Wednesday, May 11, 2005

Yes, I WOULD Like Fries With That

So I FINALLY finished A Prayer For Owen Meany. Yes I know, it's about bloody time. But some good has come of the reading...

Last night, I discovered the following:

"Newspapers are a bad habit, the reading equivalent of junk food. What happens to me is that I seize upon an issue in the news - the issue is the moral/philosophical, political/intellectual equivalent of a cheeseburger with everything on it; but for the duration of my interest in it, all my other interests are consumed by it, and whatever appetites and capacities I may have had for detachment and reflection are suddenly subordinate to this cheeseburger in my life! I offer this as self-criticism; but what it means to be "political" is that you welcome these obsessions with cheeseburgers - at great cost to the rest of your life."

Only for me it is blogs. My blog, your blog, here a blog, there a blog, everywhere a blog blog.

Blog = cheeseburger

Blog = the obsession I have welcomed at great cost to the rest of my life

And comments, oh beloved comments, YOU are the secret sauce.

Tuesday, May 10, 2005

A+ in Human, F in Divine

Today as I was reading my Self magazine, skipping all the photos of the cellulite-free prepubescent bitches that I'm sure were chain smoking right up until the moment the picture was snapped, I happened to spy the following...

"men are more eager to bring uncomfortable situations to a close, so they offer clean-it-up-fast apologies." Think: "I don't want to fight, so I'm sorry!" Women, in contrast, are quick with courtesy apologies ("Sorry I was late") and less forthcoming with bigger ones. "For women, a true apology often means the end of the discussion, so we put it off until we've talked everything through."

Now, I didn't just fall off the turnip truck. I've been trying to figure out this whole woman-man-yin-yang-Venus-Mars-Bar stuff for a while now. The above paragraph really made me think. I had NEVER realized that my reticence to apologize was because I felt that the issue bore more discussion.

I always just thought I was right.

Monday, May 09, 2005

I Think of Her Every T-Ball Game

My best friend has a friend that I will call Janie.

BF met Janie at nursing school. I am always amused that someone so self centered should chose the nursing profession, but I'm almost positive she did it to hook-up with a doctor. And she has. MANY of them.

I'm sure when most people first meet Janie, they spend a good amount of time trying figure out if she really IS a woman or just a really good drag queen. Personally I don't think she's attractive enough to be a drag queen, but what do I know? I know I was CONVINCED that she used to be a man.

She has long thick brown hair and if you took just a picture of her lips, most people would guess they were Steven Tyler's. Except for the flawlessly applied lipstick that she is forever checking.

Janie is a prissy, snobby, H-I-G-H maintenance girl.

She must have "something" because she has more boyfriends in a year that I think I have had sum total. Her boyfriends take her on trips, buy her flowers, jewelry and high-dollar accessories. About seven years ago, upon returning from her honeymoon she declared, "Just because I'm married doesn't mean I have to stop dating." Her husband is an ostrich with the IQ of gravy.

She likes to go to the Phoenix Open every year. She is a professional at attending this particular event by now. She meets a LOT of her boyfriends there. She has been doing it for yeeeeeeeears, but back in the day, when she was just a fledgling, she invited BF and a select group of presentable (ie, pretty but not so much as her highness) girls were got decked out and hit the turf.

Several drinks into the day, Janie needs to go to the restroom. For reasons I can't exactly recall, they were stuck going in a Port-O-Potty.

Janie, obviously, is NOT a Port-O-Potty girl. Apparently she was desperate and the other girls talked her into it. She was the last one to go and they all stood around outside waiting for the shrieks of horror to issue from her chosen unit. She did "eek" and "eww" a couple of times, but, over all, they are pretty impressed with her behavior. She eventually comes sashaying out, smiling and proud of herself for "sinking to the level of mere mortals" and living to tell the tale.

"It wasn't THAT bad!", she declares smugly.

The girls congratulate her. She smiles, fluffs her hair, accepts her due.

Then she says,"I really thought it was nice that they put that purse holder in there."

BF looks quizzically at her and asks, "Janie, WHAT purse holder? They don't put purse holders in Port-O-Pottys"

Janie, scoffing at BF, "Of COURSE they do! They're RIGHT there!"

BF thinks for a minute then starts laughing.

"Um, Janie? I'm not sure how to tell you this, but that wasn't a purse holder. That was the urinal."

Janie, blanching under her make up, "WHAT??!!"

BF, hardly able to speak over all the laughter, "That was the URINAL."

Janie, suddenly figuring it out, "OH MY GOD!!! THIS IS A $1000 PURSE!!"

She is drops the offensive item on the grass and backs away from it.
I'm not sure what she ended up doing with it. BF friend couldn't remember.

She DID remember that she met someone that day that bought her a new one.

Friday, May 06, 2005

The Englishman Who Went Up A Hill and Came Down a Blog

*Next Blog*

I really have no ambitions and i am a total slacker

*Next Blog*

"You were willing to give up your soul mate, so you could get a different piece of ass, from someone you know it won't work out with."

*Next Blog*

If each of us hires people who are smaller than we are, we shall become a company of dwarfs. But if each of us hires people who are bigger than we are, we shall become a company of giants.

*Next Blog*

During the weekend someone got engaged, someone got swiped by a bear, a little girl wandered into camp lost in the middle of the night and 3 Top Gun pilots plunged into the glacier-freezing river.

*Next Blog*

Upon hanging up the phone, I realized that my cat was not wearing underwear.

*Next Blog*

Congress needs to quickly allocate more funding to the United States fledgling “Freestyle Mustache” program or we’re going find ourselves loosing the Mustache Race to the Luxemburg.

*Next Blog*

ever had one of those mornings where you get out of the shower, look in the mirror, and there is a big huge booger in your hair?....

*Next Blog*

I'm buying iodine tablets, constructing a bomb shelter, learning to play the electric guitar and then, I'm going to lose about twenty pounds so my hip huggers won't look so disgusting while I'm burning my big gay bra on national television in front of the Lincoln Memorial.

*Next Blog*

Despite some cool people, lots of pot and alcohol, a gay club, lots of free clothes and some of my favorite bands, this weekend was pretty sucky.

*Next Blog*

Today we mourn the passing of a beloved old friend, Mr. Common Sense.

*Next Blog*

Apparently the patron saint of complete morons was on duty, however, as he was merely injured and not reduced to a pile of idiotic ash

*Next Blog*

it is in these moments when you realize that after school specials may have failed some of it's viewers.

*Next Blog*

All I can say is that I respect Nature's decision to make men and women different.

*Next Blog*

I like animals- especially with mashed potatoes and gravy.

*Next Blog*

She's saving orphans from a burning building while acting as her alter-ego The super powered Nose Ring Girl?

*Next Blog*

So tip your glass to Mexicans when you have the chance because you never know when the next time is when you'll be drunk and hungry for a burrito at 5AM on a weekend night.

*Next Blog*

Unless thinking, DIE DIE DIE every time a coworker speaks to me can be called working

*Next Blog*

the mothership never came back for me, those fucking wankers.

*Next Blog*

Now if they could only invent a ring that pours a Jack and Diet Coke, I'd be all set.

*Next Blog*

It's one thing to get dissed in public but it's another to get dissed over the phone by some guy who most likely looks like a sea donkey.

*Next Blog*

I guess that's a good thing -- I mean, we've ALL had those embarrassing moments where we walk into an aisle looking for a book only to hit a wall of unbelievably putrid fart-funk that, most likely, was left by that fat balding dude standing by himself and looking around nervously.

*Next Blog*

And here she was in front of me, like an angel who'd been down the road of hard knocks a few times but still had a few rounds left in her.

*Next Blog*

Thursday, May 05, 2005

Sins of the Mother

Dear OTHER neighbor,

I realize that you are trying to "get a handle on" your finances. You are trying to "economize" and are taking "baby steps" in some sort of financial AA program. I know this because you have told me. More than once.


I have noticed that you have your hair professionally highlighted. It looks great, really. Very nice. I also know that you have a gym membership (I ONLY know this because you have mentioned it - your baggy t-shirts leave me with no other choice than to take your word for it). It is also common knowledge that you would buy a steaming turd if it had "OSU" emblazoned on it (money seeming to be of no consequence in pursuit of orange oblivion).

So FOR THE LOVE OF GOD give your kids a couple bucks when the ice cream man comes cruising into the cul-de-sac. PLEASE don't make me see their sad little faces ONE MORE TIME when EVERYONE ELSE (including me and best-neighbor-ever-mom) is getting a little piece of frozen paradise.

Stupid fucked-up-priorities cow.

PS - YES, both best-neighbor-ever-mom and I have tried NUMEROUS times to just get them something, but she never lets us. ONE time, ONE!!!, the girl (age 5) ran out all excited to get something (I thought best-neighbor-ever-mom's eyeballs were going to fall out) and announced that she was getting something because she had lost her first tooth and the tooth fairy had left her money! How just plain old WRONG is that? Yeah, that's what I thought too.

Wednesday, May 04, 2005

Brer AJ's Laughing Place

"hee hee ha ha hee hee hoo hoo
Boy are we in luck!
We're visiting a laughing place
Hee hee hoo ha hoo hoo
Everybody's got a laughing place
A laughing place to go
Take a frown, turn it upside down
And you'll find yours we know
Honey and rainbows on our way
Where everyone is worth his weight
Boy are we in luck
We're visiting a laughing place
Everybody's got a laughing place
A laughing place to go
Take a smile and for a while
You'll find yours we know
Honey and rainbows on our way
Take that frown, turn it upside down
And soon you'll find you're here to stay
Everybody's got a laughing place to go
Come on in, give us all a grin
And you'll find yours I know
Laughing has always been our game
Honey fun is what we bring
Boy are we in luck
We're visiting a laughing place
Everybody's got a laughing place
A laughing place to go
We've found one thats filled with fun
And you'll find yours we know
Everybody's got a laughing place
A laughing place to go
Take a frown, turn it upside down
And you'll find yours we say we think"

Now you may think that means that this is a place I go to laugh. Where YOU can come to laugh. Where I enjoy myself, and by golly, I want you to enjoy yourself too. My escape, as it were, and I'm letting you come along for the ride.

What it ACTUALLY means is that if you stick your head in here, you're going to get a face full of bees.

And quit calling me honey.

Tuesday, May 03, 2005

Blogger Pyramid Scheme

The hits just keep rolling.....

Brian the good news is I didn't have anything else to write about today (since FIL went home). The BAD news is I know where you work, you punk! What were you thinking??!!

"The object of this exercise is simple. Pick five from the list and complete the phrase. Feel free to add additional occupations after you've done yours. Pass it on to others. Silly? Yeah. Fun? Of course!"

Obviously, I didn't write that.

The List

If I could be a scientist...
If I could be a farmer...
If I could be a musician...
If I could be a doctor...
If I could be a painter...
If I could be a gardener...
If I could be a missionary...
If I could be a chef...
If I could be an architect...
If I could be a linguist...
If I could be a psychologist...
If I could be a librarian...
If I could be an athlete...
If I could be a lawyer...
If I could be an innkeeper...
If I could be a professor...
If I could be a writer...
If I could be a llama-rider...(by Ogre)
If I could be a bonnie pirate...(By Teach)
If I could be a servicemember...(By Jeremy)
If I could be a business owner...(By Blue 944)
If I could be an actor... (By Blue 944)
If I could be an agent...(By KelBel)
If I could be video game designer...(By KelBel)
If I could be a comic book artist...(By Stoli)
If I could be a hooker...(By Pollo Loco)
If I could be a crack addict (by Elizabeth)
If I could be a porn star (by Elizabeth)
If I could be a mime (by Garrison)
If I could be a domestic engineer (by Rick)
If I could be a chimney sweep (by laine)
If I could be a masseuse (by laine)
If I could be a taxi driver (by Brian)
If I could be a priest (by Brian)

If I could be a linguist - I would be cunning. Then everyone would say, "There goes that cunning linguist." I would smile, wave and tell them "cunning linguist THIS" in Swahili.

If I could be a mime - I would put a fake blood pack under my black & white mime costume. I would have a big cannon of a handgun loaded with blanks. I would charge people $50 to shoot me and I would cry out in a decidedly unmime-like manner as my bloody corpse fell to the pavement. I would make tons of money because everyone hates mimes.

If I could be a domestic engineer - I would call myself a housewife, because I would know I wasn't fooling anyone with the hokey title.

Jesus, I have to do five of these? This sucks!

I'm changing the rules.

If I could be a scientist/hooker - I would invent an addictive lipgloss so that once men kissed me they would be hooked. I could charge them any price and I wouldn't even have to put out (unless, you know, I REALLY wanted to). They would go into withdrawal if they tried to avoid me. It would be painful. Then when they came crawling back I would charge them double because they had been naughty. I would avoid Charlie Sheen.

If I could be a porn star/writer - I would be Jenna Jameson. There's nothing new under the sun people.

If I could be a psychologist/innkeeper - I would adorn all the rooms with Rorschach test art. Every room with be monitored with tiny hidden cameras. There would be actual boogie men under every bed. I would write a paper about my findings. I would keep the name and location of my inn secret but I would hint wildly that I was owned by the Hilton Corporation.

If I could be a doctor/chef - I wouldn't have to worry about where to hide the bodies if I botched an operation.

If I could be a chimney sweep/artist - I would only do charcoals. Wait, that was too easy. That is exactly why I skipped crack addict/taxi driver.

If I could be a writer - I wouldn't need to blog with all you amateurs.

Monday, May 02, 2005

Of Mice and Men

Father-In-Law: There sure are a lot of Hummers around here.

Hub: I know. There's two in our neighborhood alone.

FIL: Why would anyone want one of those?

Hub: I think they're kind of cool.

FIL: Really? They go, what?, like 2 miles per gallon.

Hub: Yeah? Well what's your dream car?

FIL: I don't really have one.

Me: Come on! You've never had a Dream Car?

Hub: What was it that you used to want? Some kind of Porsche?

FIL: Oh yeah! A 1955 Bathtub Porsche.

Hub: That's right!

Me: Really? Why?

FIL: Because that's what Mighty Mouse drives.

Sunday, May 01, 2005

Washing the Drapes AND the Rug

Saturday was NOT my birthday. You might even think it was. But it wasn't.

It just SEEMED like it was because hub purchased and installed a new shower head. The kind with the regular shower head AND shower massage extension. You can wash your hair and have a steady, warming, massaging stream on your back at the same time. Also when you are using the handheld part to clean your REALLY REALLY dirty parts (wink wink) you stay warm.

It's Birthday, Christmas, Goundhog's and Arbor Day all rolled up into one.

And I STILL get a Mother's Day gift.

It ROCKS to be me!