Friday, July 31, 2009

The Great Mayo Bust

Very similar to the 55 pack of oatmeal conquest, I recently won the battle with 3 jars of mayonnaise that Mr Man had in the fridge... Duke's regular, Duke's light and Miracle Whip. Who needs a different mayonnaise for different applications and situations...really now. You have to know me and if you do, you know that I am the kind to share my progress any and every time I find myself standing in the refrigerator door. So finally after much ado I/we manage to finish off all 3 jars...to be replaced by ONE jar of Duke's Light. Only because its stupid to exercise and take 45 vitamin and supplements a day to keep cholesterol down then just shoot it in the ass with the mayo...you don't have to agree cause I know I'm right. Much grumbling ensued from one Mr. Man to which I reply something along the lines of "Really..shut up you'll get use to it."

So then it happened, busted. I picked up a grocery receipt that was lying on the counter just to see how much was spent (I try to keep up with my turn/his turn on groceries and stuff). There is was in black and white...proof of condiment betrayal behind my back. Duke's Regular artery clogging mayonnaise. I shriek, of course, because its what I do and yell "OMG you bought regular mayo!!!" Mr. Man says nothing, turns and runs full out to the laundry room, slams the door and makes his best 2 year old attempt at hiding. So as I'm beating on the body blocked door yelling "I can't believe you...where is it??" I hear snorting from the other side. It took a while but I found it...and yes he had actually hidden the mayonnaise from me. His response to all this, "Well if you weren't being so nosey I would have gotten away with it". I am obviously some Hitler like kitchen tyrant. Some where along the line he has also snuck another jar of Miracle Whip into the scene. So here we are back at square 1 with 3 jars of mayo in the fridge. Completely goes against my minimalist way of life. Let it be known there are also 3 jars of the same kind of pickles in there too. Anyone care for a pickle coated in mayo and oatmeal??
While I'm on the subject...remember that refrigerator that I cleaned remnants of a dead body or something out of? Well lets just say I shoulda left it dirty. The freshly fully remodeled rental/for sale house got broken into last week. Ok, the house was empty...wtf? Let me clarify...its EMPTY NOW...they jacked my fucking refrigerator. Bet they would've left it if it still had body parts and kool aid all in the bottom of it. Just a note to anyone who's thinking of a possible career in fridge jacking...do me a favor and bring some damn hand trucks with you so you don't f-up my new floor next time. And btw just so you are fully informed, there's no insurance for thievery on rental policies thankyouverymuch.

Now for the visual update portion of the show.

Obviously miss priss needed an unobstructed view...


He no doubt knows who rules the roost.


"Alright you stupid biped...put that damn camera down...you're screwing with my chi"

Thursday, July 23, 2009

Dwight Yoakam, Hermit Life and Alligator Shoes

Big happenings here in the small town to report. Last week I took Rogo dog out for his morning poo and across the street from the house there was a car haphazardly pulled off the side of the road and a golf cart. The chick from the car was on the phone and I figured, had broken down. She kept trying to make eye contact but me being the hermit in training that I am and master eye contact diverted avoided it. After poo success and return to the house, Mr. Man asked what was going on across the street, to which I replied "Dunno, think the car is dick down". And he was all like "well why's the law out there?" Upon nosey inspections I realize that we now have the previously assumed dick down car, a golf cart, two unmarked and one marked police cars and a small gathering of bored neighbors. Several dudes with guns were tromping around in the high weeds looking for something. Still we remained inside. Then we see that the chunky eye contact girl has a small audience and is pointing up at our house and reliving some sort of a story. I give the all clear for Mr Man to go get into the mix, so he does.
After he hears what the pointing is about he comes back to get me. It seems that an ALLIGATOR CAME OUT FROM UNDER MY SHU!! (Note to the unknowings - The Shu is what we all lovingly refer to my sticker ridden Toyota Matrix as.) So I join the party from a distance and just hangout in the driveway to watch the master alligator captors. They used one of those loop on a stick thingys and got him around the neck. He was maybe 3 foot long-ish. The really high tech portion of the capture and relocation process was when they rolled the neighbors trashcan down and chunked the alligator in for a ride. An old guy drug the can into the back of a pickup and off they go with the old dude sitting on the tool box behind the cab and one Mr Alligator taking his, what I would assume, first car ride.
The chunky girl left and the neighbors went in and life resumed normal. It just never would have occurred to me to call 911 over seeing an alligator...but that's why we're all different I suppose. I figured he had some where he was going and could handle it on his own. Beaver had a whole different story about Alvin the Alligator which is just too bizarre to share, but I am seriously considering writing a series of children's books...clean talk and all.

Country music's 50 sexiest videos were on way too late and I was on rum number 40something and got sucked in. Can you believe that a back in the day Dwight Yoakam video is still in the mix? I saw him on something recently and he's still wearing the same damn jeans...number one how does he get them on and number two does he buy them in the little boys department at Sears or what? I have a Dwight Yoakam story that I still tell. Back in my previous life when I was married the first time for about a minute and a half...I really can't explain that one AT ALL. I was 18 and I'd recently been granted my I can do anything I want card and I intended to play it. And play it I did. Unfortunately I had no prior gambling experience and wound up the loser with a loser in a Chevette and a 2nd shift cotton mill job knocking down about $120 a week. There's a lesson that my parents never taught me that would have come in kick ass handy on this one. It's called classes. There are different classes of people and you do best to stick within your class. Not that I don't think that we are all human and put our undies on the same way and should be treated with respect and all. Just that maybe you shouldn't marry say a 30 year old that sleeps on a mattress in the floor in a room with all of his old enough to be outta mama's house siblings. (Including one over 500 pounder...how that one got up and down to that floor sleeping arrangement is still beyond me) For a while his daddy did a stint as his uncle and vice versa. But I was firmly squatted directly in the center of my rebellious years and tended to do more things based on what I was told that I would not do than anything else. At least that's what I'm going to blame it on and I'm sticking with my answer. Did I mention that I was wife number 3!!!
But I digress...Somehow ole Dwight got lost in the fruckus there didn't he? I don't remember much about X round one but I do know he hated country music. So when the Dwight Yoakam concert was scheduled me and my friend Phyllis bought us 2 tickets for girls night out. This went over like a terd in a punch bowl...there may have been a few jealousy issues...along with a loose marble or two. So about a week or so later he announced that he and his younger brother had tickets and wanted to bum a ride..."Umm no...get your own way...its a girls night". We were near the bitter end of this train ride folks. Before the concert could roll around that bitter end showed its ugly face. But shit happens and we carry on. Phyllis and I were sitting in our seats awaiting our skinny man in tight jeans when I hear someone say "fuck" and look up to see none other than little brother with thank god someone else in tow. Yep...their seats were RIGHT BESIDE OURS!! I'm pretty sure that would have been a violation of the restraining order in any state. Needless to say we went for drinks and wound up way far away bogarting seats in another section. Still...freaky right? And still I prove that my life on paper looks like ass.

In other happenings my unemployed partner in crime has gone back to school (I still don't know why I call myself unemployed...I've never worked so damn much in my life). Nanner's going to learn to do facials and skin treatment and rip hair out of nether regions. On the second day of class they were banned from using razors (on anything) so that in 3 weeks there would be plenty to practice on in Hair Removal 101. Can you say lap cat?? I did tell her we may have the answer to my "if left unattended would my armpit hair crest my elbow?" question. http://earthyedgyunfiltered.blogspot.com/2008/09/i-am-possibly-weirdest-person-i-know.html
Since her classes are all day and I work the night shift (at least not in a cotton mill) my circle of communication is down to one Mr Man. Which officially makes me one step away from hermitism. Speaking of hermitism...while watching the rolling channel guide on mute I see a show call The 650lb virgin...wow...ya reckon.