Last night, the Toad was being particularly annoying. Okay, he's been particularly annoying all week, but last night, I had an opportunity...
The Howler had left the room, and we were discussing her Amazon.com search faux-pas...for the record, if you type in "blow ups" on their toy page, you get listings (thank God, not pictures) of blow ups. Dolls. For sex. And unless you want to be the one to explain that to my 8 year old, don't let her go there again. (and for the record, her father was the one in charge at the time, not me. I know better.)
Anyway, the Toad announced that he can help police her web searches in the future.
I had to ask, "Do you really think, Mr. $700+ in PPV Porn, that YOU are qualified to oversee and censor what she might find?"
His response? "I paid you back...and I am apparently still paying!"
The conversation turned at some point, to My Sweetie's upcoming birthday in January. The Toad, being a math genius, hadn't yet figured out the bestest part of his parents' birthdays.
Being the deviant I am, I take the opportunity to inform him...but My Sweetie, ever mortified by my skeeving out the Toad in this manner, reminds me that the Howler is still within earshot.
I decide that the most fun will be had by drawing a carefully planned picture for the Toad, and watching as the knowledge permeates his thick skull.
I told him to consider the number 9. Just 9. Then, I asked him when My Sweetie's birthday is. (January 6) Now, remember the number 9. And what takes 9 months? His eyebrow went up. The fear in his eyes grew. My Sweetie sat still, watching for the train to smack the boy in the raised eyebrow. I asked him when my birthday was. (October 3)
The Toad began screaming as the full knowledge (and mental image) hit him. My parents, apparently, were celebrating My Sweetie's coming into the world, whether they knew it or not.
Oh, yes, I am evil.
Friday, December 17, 2010
Saturday, December 11, 2010
Who?
Today was a lovely day at the Return desk.
First, the phone rang and rang and rang. As soon as you'd answer it, it'd ring again.
On top of that, I spend an unusually long time trying to figure out who Danielle the Manager was. I should've just parked the call and paged for Danielle.
For the record, there is no Danielle the Manager. Not in the house, not with a mouse. Not in a box, not with a fox.
I also do not work at blshtowiehhtohg, either, but that doesn't seem to slow ya down, you know what I mean?
First, the phone rang and rang and rang. As soon as you'd answer it, it'd ring again.
On top of that, I spend an unusually long time trying to figure out who Danielle the Manager was. I should've just parked the call and paged for Danielle.
For the record, there is no Danielle the Manager. Not in the house, not with a mouse. Not in a box, not with a fox.
I also do not work at blshtowiehhtohg, either, but that doesn't seem to slow ya down, you know what I mean?
Thursday, December 09, 2010
Memes R Us
Flea's got a meme...and I mean to have one, too.
1. What is your occupation?
I am Flypaper for Freaks. I am the Weirdness Goddess. I am the Frodo the Bee Keeper, too.
2. What color are your socks right now?
They are both white. I have another pair at home that matches them exactly. Except, I mean, on opposite feet. (HAH! you thought I was gonna say that they match my panties...and that I wasn't wearing panties. Fooled ya!)
3. What are you listening to right now?
The Howler ask me 12 demanding questions about all and sundry flotsam from my life. Oh, she has the sniffles, too.
4. What was the last thing you ate?
A mint.
5. Can you drive a stick shift?
Yes. I learned on one, because that's all my parents had at the time. What fun! My sister & I would head to softball practice early, so I could practice in the school parking lot. She worked the pedals and had me shift from the passenger seat for months before I got my permit. Then, she switched seats with me, and I worked the clutch while she shifted. Finally got to put it all together--and then when I got my permit, my dad commented that he was impressed that I "got the hang of it" so quickly! Didn't admit to anything until after I got my license, though.
6. Last person you spoke to on the phone?
My neighbor, Michelle. She was wonky last night with Ambien, and she called to ask if she'd called me yesterday.
7. Do you like the person who sent this to you?
Yeppers, I do. She is a Wise Woman, and I consider myself blessed to have made her acquaintance (HAH! I spelled it right before I checked it!)
8. How old are you today?
OOOOO. I love this game! How old do you think I am?
9. What is your favorite sport to watch on TV?
Is hacky sack a sport? No? Then I'll take I'll door #2, Monty.
10. What is your favorite drink?
Well, coffee, I suppose. High-Octane please. Although, I do like beer. And water. But not all at the same time.
11. Have you ever dyed your hair?
Yes. I decided that I would not age gracefully, and while maintaining the color is a pain in my ass, I rather like being a red head, and thank God for Clariol Nice & Easy (no comments from the peanut gallery, thank you) every few weeks.
12. Favorite food?
Yes. Absolutely. Oh, a list, then? Salt & Vinegar chips. Brownies. Frosted Mini-Wheats. Bagels. M 'n M's. Home made chocolate chip cookies. Popcorn. Wow, but doesn't that sound like a list of Munchies?
13. What was the last movie you watched?
Disney's UP. And yes, I can smell you.
14. Favorite day of the year?
Any day I wake up still sucking air during which nothing explodes, nobody vomits on me, and there is hot coffee.
15. What was your favorite toy as a child?
We-ell. I don't recall, really. I loved to read, so I preferred books to toys, mostly. Although, if it counts, I still have the stuffed red donkey my grandmother bought me at Murphy Mart when I was in 1st or 2nd grade. I slept with him every night for about ever...and he went to college with me (but not on my honeymoon!) I know where he is this exact minute, and his name is Charley.
16. What is your favorite season?
Can this be a BOGO? I like spring, God, I love spring. It means no more inside the dayumed store. Sunny sunshine, warm rain...but I love autumn...the colors, the smells, the cooler days and snuggling under a fleece blanket.
17. Cherries or blueberries?
Why?
18. What occupation would you pick any (and had the talent) if you could live your life again?
I would be a Goddess, but not a Weirdness Goddess. Oh, alright. Seriously? I would have taken my writing seriously and I'd be published--and getting paid for it.
K, now it's yer turn!
1. What is your occupation?
I am Flypaper for Freaks. I am the Weirdness Goddess. I am the Frodo the Bee Keeper, too.
2. What color are your socks right now?
They are both white. I have another pair at home that matches them exactly. Except, I mean, on opposite feet. (HAH! you thought I was gonna say that they match my panties...and that I wasn't wearing panties. Fooled ya!)
3. What are you listening to right now?
The Howler ask me 12 demanding questions about all and sundry flotsam from my life. Oh, she has the sniffles, too.
4. What was the last thing you ate?
A mint.
5. Can you drive a stick shift?
Yes. I learned on one, because that's all my parents had at the time. What fun! My sister & I would head to softball practice early, so I could practice in the school parking lot. She worked the pedals and had me shift from the passenger seat for months before I got my permit. Then, she switched seats with me, and I worked the clutch while she shifted. Finally got to put it all together--and then when I got my permit, my dad commented that he was impressed that I "got the hang of it" so quickly! Didn't admit to anything until after I got my license, though.
6. Last person you spoke to on the phone?
My neighbor, Michelle. She was wonky last night with Ambien, and she called to ask if she'd called me yesterday.
7. Do you like the person who sent this to you?
Yeppers, I do. She is a Wise Woman, and I consider myself blessed to have made her acquaintance (HAH! I spelled it right before I checked it!)
8. How old are you today?
OOOOO. I love this game! How old do you think I am?
9. What is your favorite sport to watch on TV?
Is hacky sack a sport? No? Then I'll take I'll door #2, Monty.
10. What is your favorite drink?
Well, coffee, I suppose. High-Octane please. Although, I do like beer. And water. But not all at the same time.
11. Have you ever dyed your hair?
Yes. I decided that I would not age gracefully, and while maintaining the color is a pain in my ass, I rather like being a red head, and thank God for Clariol Nice & Easy (no comments from the peanut gallery, thank you) every few weeks.
12. Favorite food?
Yes. Absolutely. Oh, a list, then? Salt & Vinegar chips. Brownies. Frosted Mini-Wheats. Bagels. M 'n M's. Home made chocolate chip cookies. Popcorn. Wow, but doesn't that sound like a list of Munchies?
13. What was the last movie you watched?
Disney's UP. And yes, I can smell you.
14. Favorite day of the year?
Any day I wake up still sucking air during which nothing explodes, nobody vomits on me, and there is hot coffee.
15. What was your favorite toy as a child?
We-ell. I don't recall, really. I loved to read, so I preferred books to toys, mostly. Although, if it counts, I still have the stuffed red donkey my grandmother bought me at Murphy Mart when I was in 1st or 2nd grade. I slept with him every night for about ever...and he went to college with me (but not on my honeymoon!) I know where he is this exact minute, and his name is Charley.
16. What is your favorite season?
Can this be a BOGO? I like spring, God, I love spring. It means no more inside the dayumed store. Sunny sunshine, warm rain...but I love autumn...the colors, the smells, the cooler days and snuggling under a fleece blanket.
17. Cherries or blueberries?
Why?
18. What occupation would you pick any (and had the talent) if you could live your life again?
I would be a Goddess, but not a Weirdness Goddess. Oh, alright. Seriously? I would have taken my writing seriously and I'd be published--and getting paid for it.
K, now it's yer turn!
Wednesday, December 08, 2010
27 Days to Go
Today wasn't so bad. Since we were both on a mission from God, he was busy. He wasn't bothering me...much.
Now, though, he's trying to get thru to the unemployment hotline, to see if he can open the claim now, or if he has to wait until this weekend.
"We're sorry. Due to current call volume, all lines are busy. Please call again at a later time."
And he's grumping around about it.
*sigh*
Tomorrow, he's got big-big man plans: the truck needs inspected, and it's new driver's license time. I send a small thank you to the DMV.
Now, though, he's trying to get thru to the unemployment hotline, to see if he can open the claim now, or if he has to wait until this weekend.
"We're sorry. Due to current call volume, all lines are busy. Please call again at a later time."
And he's grumping around about it.
*sigh*
Tomorrow, he's got big-big man plans: the truck needs inspected, and it's new driver's license time. I send a small thank you to the DMV.
Tuesday, December 07, 2010
Day 2, part 2
At some point yesterday or today, My Sweetie sez, "Geez. I think I've got a bad case of the mid-40's."
I sez, "Oh?" giggle
He sez, "Yeah, and the doc says there's no hope for a cure."
giggle
I sez, "Oh?" giggle
He sez, "Yeah, and the doc says there's no hope for a cure."
giggle
Day 2
With 28 more to go. Sheesh.
Yesterday wasn't bad because I slept in, while he was busy cleaning the kitchen top to bottom. He did get a bit on my nerves with his chatting away to the cats (and sometimes me) and his hyperactivity. But not like today.
Today, I was up, awake, and dressed to go do some Christmas shopping. Okay. We spent about 2 hours together, out in public. Which was fine, and fun, especially in the toy aisles at WalMart.
But then we get home.
And he's still talking.
And talking.
And talking.
I swear that this is God's way of punishing me for my constant blather years ago. (and yes, it WAS TOO years ago.)
He has been talking about EVERY BLESSED MOVE he makes. He claims its to the cats, but I think, secretly, deep down, he's doing it to annoy me.
I suggested that he find one of those bizarre screech-shoot-and-swear manflicks he's always finding, you know the ones I mean. There's an f-bomb, a scream, and an explosion every 3 minutes. Real Academy Award winners, those are.
Anyway. I also suggested that to go with the movie, he could call his hearing-aid-less father, and talk REALLY REALLY REALLY LOUD! to him, while pacing behind me while I try and read.
There's a reason I'm enjoying work right now.
Yesterday wasn't bad because I slept in, while he was busy cleaning the kitchen top to bottom. He did get a bit on my nerves with his chatting away to the cats (and sometimes me) and his hyperactivity. But not like today.
Today, I was up, awake, and dressed to go do some Christmas shopping. Okay. We spent about 2 hours together, out in public. Which was fine, and fun, especially in the toy aisles at WalMart.
But then we get home.
And he's still talking.
And talking.
And talking.
I swear that this is God's way of punishing me for my constant blather years ago. (and yes, it WAS TOO years ago.)
He has been talking about EVERY BLESSED MOVE he makes. He claims its to the cats, but I think, secretly, deep down, he's doing it to annoy me.
I suggested that he find one of those bizarre screech-shoot-and-swear manflicks he's always finding, you know the ones I mean. There's an f-bomb, a scream, and an explosion every 3 minutes. Real Academy Award winners, those are.
Anyway. I also suggested that to go with the movie, he could call his hearing-aid-less father, and talk REALLY REALLY REALLY LOUD! to him, while pacing behind me while I try and read.
There's a reason I'm enjoying work right now.
Thursday, December 02, 2010
Tis The Season
for a lack of reason.
Case in point: I was, of course, at the Return desk. Which means that I get to stand near the main entrance....and immediately to my left, outside the desk, is the Seasonal department.
And at this time of year, that means that I get to hear the compressor that keeps those dammed blow-up things run, and hear the drone of obnoxiously loud music, and see the blinks, blips, and flashes of every sparkling, lite-up thing we peddle.
A man walks in thru the doors. He looks to his right (my left) and sees and hears all the gloriously commercialized motorized lit up joy that is the Christmas department. He then turns to his left (to me) and says, "Hey, I heard that you have those lights." pause..."on a string." longer pause, hand motion in a spiral..."like you'd put on a tree or something."
Jaw hanging open, I say, "What we have in Christmas lights is all right over there." and I point to all the motorized, noisy, sparkling Christmas joy that we peddle.
"You sure they're there?" he asks, as he looks, again, at all that Christmas joy.
"A-yup."
Case in point: I was, of course, at the Return desk. Which means that I get to stand near the main entrance....and immediately to my left, outside the desk, is the Seasonal department.
And at this time of year, that means that I get to hear the compressor that keeps those dammed blow-up things run, and hear the drone of obnoxiously loud music, and see the blinks, blips, and flashes of every sparkling, lite-up thing we peddle.
A man walks in thru the doors. He looks to his right (my left) and sees and hears all the gloriously commercialized motorized lit up joy that is the Christmas department. He then turns to his left (to me) and says, "Hey, I heard that you have those lights." pause..."on a string." longer pause, hand motion in a spiral..."like you'd put on a tree or something."
Jaw hanging open, I say, "What we have in Christmas lights is all right over there." and I point to all the motorized, noisy, sparkling Christmas joy that we peddle.
"You sure they're there?" he asks, as he looks, again, at all that Christmas joy.
"A-yup."
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)