Ass Drag Monday - Bonus Edition

I took a "staycation" last week. Frugal is the new cool, right? Or whatever the cool word for cool is. Anyway, I haven't had a real vacation in 8 years so I'm like Amelia Earhart. Prince. The Sham Wow! (That would be ahead of my time, you bunch of smart asses.)

Why don't I go on vacation? Because we don't want to kennel the dog. I'm not going into all the reasons and details, but sometimes life with a 120 pound dog (who hates other dogs with the exception of my in-laws Rott) can be a challenge. So the summer before last I decided that if I wasn't going to a place with a beach or pool then By God I was bringing a pool to myself.

Last weeks list of activities went something like this:
Clean pool
Lay by pool
Clean house (only because company was coming and saying "clean house" is really a lie - it was more like clean kitchen, bath and living rooms and shut all the other doors.)
Drink by pool with friends
Lay on float in pool nursing hangover
See a softball game
Drink by pool (alone. Which is NOT a sign of alcoholism because it was by a pool.)
Meet friends for lunch
Float in pool
See a softball game - this one is notable because there was a BEER TRUCK!
Accidentally sleep until 11am
Weed a flower bed
Recuperate by floating in pool with a drink
And repeat

Ok, there were also dog walks most mornings - early because for some reason it was already 80 friggin degrees around here last week.

Needless to say, going back to work this morning sucked. Big time. First I had to get out of bed before the sun came up. Then I had to deal with the *deep, calming breath allowing me to not type a string of swear words here* construction zone traffic.

And when I get to the shit hole place that pays my bills, my friends, (I don't have many, so I use that word very loosely) decided to entertain themselves last week by shrink wrapping my desk. Yes, they even remembered to do the scissors.

My poor brain was in so much shock I forgot to take pictures of it before I started the clean up. The thing that almost sent me over the edge was seeing my poor tube of chapstick mummified by all those layers of plastic. Plaaaastic *just went back into vacation land remembering the smell of the new plastic floats*

Flim flammed

Dear State Farm,

While it is admirable that you proactively adjust my insurance rates, I can't help but wonder if you should instead use the money to include a small packet of lube with my next statement.

I may not be Einstein, but giving me a savings of .25 and then charging me 1.00 service fee for making the policy change does not quite add up. Sure, next month I might save that 25 cents again, but I am onto you. I'm sure in May you will save me some additional negligible amount and charge me yet another $1 for that adjustment. I really don't have the time or energy to call you to fix your fucked up shit. Stop it already.

Sincerely,
Violated in Ohio

Ass Drag Monday

It's that day again. I spent most of Saturday hoping I had a hangover. Around 4pm I gave in - I'm sick. I seem to have caught some freaky nauseous, sneezy, coughy crud that has been going around. Which reminded me of an ongoing debate about "The Sleeve."

I don't know about you, but at times when I sneeze and cough - especially if I'm sick - there tends to be some kind of "mucal output." Somehow, without training, I manage to carry around enough tissues to use & discard and hand sanitizer if I just have to be out and about. If meeting someone new, I explain and refrain from shaking hands. But I guess that I am a germ spreader, uncouth and unhip.

The next time you're in line at the buffet, be sure to look for these über hygienic people. Shake their germ free hand. And hope none of that flaky, dried up snot fell off of their sleeve into your entree.

Ass Drag Monday

Yeah, it’s my favorite day again! You can’t hear the sarcasm, but believe me, it’s there. With the fish fry to setup for, work at, and the hangover to deal with, I’m just starting to feel human again. I'll try to write something not worthless later in the week, but you know the drivel you get on Monday so you really can't complain.

Tuesday – the doctor called about the MRI results on my knee. No torn ligaments or cartilage damage showed on it. “Gee, why does it still hurt so damn much?” I asked. I mean, he is a doctor, right? Guess what, he doesn’t know. That’s it. Buh-bye.

Wednesday – we’re not reliving that shit again.

Thursday – Weee! That was jello shot making night. This is what 746 jello shots look like (side note, it was supposed to be 750. How much money do you think those bastards at GFS are pocketing by shorting each pack by 1 cup??) And don’t try to call me out on the math. One cup had a hole and had to go in the trash (after the jello I put in it went straight out the bottom and all over the freaking place.) Where was I, besides killing you with punctuation? Oh yes, I tried to take a picture of my aching back when we were done, but it just didn’t come across.

Mini-J and Miss Abby decided to setup some chairs and have a movie night while moms, aunt and friends labored away in the kitchen.

Miss Abby’s new baby sister.

Friday – I had a couple of cocktails and bitched to all of you about my Wednesday. Taking advantage of my impaired judgment, Captain Clueless tricked me into showing him ‘the blog.’ He thought some of it was funny, didn’t get some of it, and strongly objected to the Captain Clueless nickname. He would, because he’s, well, clueless. Seriously, after checking out a few posts he went into the living room and cranked up an Asia song on the TV. At no point in my lifetime did I ever like Asia. And if he had a clue he would know how much they suck. If you’re an Asia fan and feel like bitching about this, don’t bother. You have no cred with me.

Saturday – The big night. Somehow I missed getting a pic of Jeanne slurping a jello shot. She must have sucked them down while I was occupied elsewhere. Don't blame me, she's sneaky like that.

This is Eric. His table won the most-bloated-from-jello prize before the 2 for 1 fire sale.

Now, would someone please tell me why I have an irrational fear that this poor little duckling is going to drown if he falls in here?

Ass Drag Monday

I know, I can't believe it's already Monday again. Someone really needs to do something about this shit. Well, since it's here, and so are you, here is another totally worthless Monday post.

Some have noticed that I changed my "photo." The pic of Teri Polo was not cutting it. She looked so wholesome, and, well, nice. Slowly, the picture started getting on my nerves every time I saw it. I mean, she doesn't even look like someone I would hang out with. Eventually, after viewing it so often, I wanted to kick her ass (not just for the photo, did you see Meet the Fockers? That's roughly 2 hours of my life I will never get back.)

So I started looking through my photos trying to find a replacement. One thing, I hate getting my picture taken. Most of the photos were horrible, maybe since most were taken by my supposed friends while out partying (re: wasted.) Or by my dad when he was in his 'photography' phase, which also happened to be in the 80's. You can imagine the hair and make-up. Really. Because I'm not showing you.

I found a few where I was turned away from the camera. However, I also happened to be flipping the bird in all of them. For my own page that would be one thing. But for it to show everytime I leave comments just seemed rude.

Then I found one of a mooning in progress. I couldn't determine if I was pulling up or dropping down and it wasn't a full moon. As Captain Clueless would say, just the coin slot was hanging out. Butt (hahaha,) that seemed only slightly less rude than the finger, and I have that whole 'internet perv' fear thing going on.

So I settled for taking a photo of a few of my bad habits. Marlboro's. Billiards (why is this a bad habit? My dad forbid me from hanging out in pool halls as a teen so I figure he thought there was something wrong with it. Obviously I don't take well to being forbidden because that's where I was ALL THE TIME.) And the drink. What's in it? Well, I will leave it for you to imagine your favorite just-add-cola potion. Because really, what booze won't I drink?