Holy Fuck...

Bombshell dropped on me at end of business day. Can't even talk about it, I'm flipping out.

No Internet for Me :(

I haven't had internet access (at home) for 3 whole days now. I know it's hard to imagine, but I'm one of the rare birdies that still has dial-up service, and when the landline goes, so does my fun hobby.

My fingers have missed the keyboard forplay...My wrists are limp with inactivity...I can see better, but what's the point if I can't tweet? If I can't surf for recipes? Can't blog in the comfort of my underwear?

Gahhhhhhhhhhhhh

Thank goodness I don't have a porn website to upkeep. Could you just imagine the chaos?

Wardrobe Malfunctions - Pantyhose

I've suffered quite a few wardrobe malfunctions over the years. Lately, I've been more in tune with my struggle with pantyhose.

Now, I get them at least a size bigger. The theory behind it is that they will be less likely to roll down and expose my ass to some fresh air (well, that's a whole other post) if they are big enough to pull up to my chest. However, pantyhose combined with equally falling uderwear still results in serious tugging.

While having yet another brilliant monologue, I came to the conclusion that my pantyhose-pulling and leg side-kick combo (in the hopes it will facilitate retrieval of said culprit), isn’t quite as sexy as I had imagined.

Ahh, live and learn...Live and learn...

I'm Keeping My Eye on You, Kids.

Sushi keeps taunting me. Not sure what his game plan is... He is on top of my fancy table runner, left paw up, staring at me as if he were a stalker, then picking at the fabric with his super-sharp talons, barely breaking eye contact. Meow. He's so sadistic.

Sushi and the girls have been keeping me up at night for the last few days (read: weeks/months/years). Between Sashimi and Pixie's wild chases, wrestling, and Sushi's territory battles, I am awake every few hours, pleading for them to stop, otherwise, they won't be sleeping in the bedroom anymore. Yeah. Ok, like that's going to happen.

God, such little manipulators.

The Candle Guy

If I had sand on me, I would have thrown it at this guy's eyes.

Every now and then, we have vendors coming in with products to sell to the overly stressed workers (read: easy targets) of the companies that reside in our professional building. Yesterday, we had the "candle guy".

It all started innocently enough, and it then progressed to a close-encounter with my fist and his gut (in my imagination, of course) in less than 5 minutes.

I'm with my co-workers, just browsing the selection, and happen to casually mention "too bad I can't have candles" (but could totally have bought the strawberry daiquiri one because it looked so cute. Glad I didn't now. Sucka!) to one of the girls. "O that's right, because of the cats!" is my friend's reply.

Candle Guy interjects, wanting to know why, exactly, was it that I couldn't have candles if I had cats, with an attitude that could rival that of Naomi Campbell. Blink, blink, blink, pardonnez-moi? Instead of giving him a dirty look and walking away, my evil within (not gas this time), decides to see how far this idiocy can reach.

Apparently, very far.

We go back and forth with this stupid conversation, me mentioning that my cats are especially feisty (I wouldn't have it any other way), him saying that if I had trained my cats well...

Aiiiiiiiiiiiii, I don't think I have to go any further into it, but needless to say, I was so highly offended, that if anyone at that point, would have offered me a deliciously, hot cinnabon, I might have to ask them to just put it aside (for a second, I mean, who am I kidding here), while I catch my breath.


Ahh, Candle Guy...if the relaxation candles you are pushing were any good, I wouldn't have had the urge to scratch your face off.

Hot Maneuver

I've gone to this particular gas station by my house a few times. Every time I go, the gas attendant plays with my card (well, with me). He starts to give it back to me, I try to grab it, and he takes it away! "Ooo too slow! Ok, I geeeve it back now...Ooooo no! EHEHHEHEHE...Ok, ok, I geeeve it back this time...Oooooo eheheheheeh...I am jost keeeding wit you". Must admit, I do think it's funny, because he seems to be having a grand ol' time here.

Today, I went to get gas during the day (had to take an earlier lunch at work, due to a meeting), and there was a different attendant. I'm thinking, o, no takesies-backsies this time.

I'm behind this SUV, waiting for the driver to leave, meanwhile, another car is leaving on the other side. The attendant signals for me to go around. The fuel door cover is not on the same side, so I backed up, drove around the car in front of me, and then reversed until I got to the pump all in like 5 seconds. Managed not to run over the attendant, cool beans to me.

They must have gone to the same school of humor, because, as I "roll down" the window, he goes "yoooo are verry booteefool driverrr" while he gestures a little sign of approval (you know, the indicator finger and thumb together, with a back and forth motion, elevated to the chin, and half-puckered lips). I'm glad I get to impress people with my skills.

Hair-Raising Experience

I had a haircut at this salon at the mall. Short with layers. Hairstylist made it puffy, VERY puffy. I mean popcorn-style poofaroonie. She de-puffed it a bit, but still not low enough for me to be considered "short" again. It defies gravity, cold, windy air, bride of Frankenstein hair...I hope I recover.

Santa, the Not-So-Great

Thinking about a recent conversation I had with someone, led me to have a monologue about Santa Claus. I don't know how I got there, but I personally believe (Miss South Carolina style) that Santa is a prick. It's also "Satan" if you are really clever and noticed it, or are just plain dyslexic.

There's nothing really great about him, and to tell you the truth, most renderings of Santa make him look, how do you say? Pervy. Not just for the overly rosy cheeks (either rosacea, or more likely, he's a perpetual drunk), little beady eyes, or drooling, goofy look, but for an even bigger reason- his love for younger boys and girls. I mean, the guy's whole life revolves around children, handing out toys, talking about naughty stuff, and having them sit on his lap. Hello, Santa? It's me, Michael Jackson.

Here's why I think Santa's a hemorrhoid: he takes all the credit for the Holiday (no offense to JC…). It's already been scientifically proven that there's no way in hell, that the fat guy in the red pajamas, can efficiently deliver toys to all the kids in the world in one flippin' night (I don't need your rationalizations about secret portals, "helpers", etc, ok?). If that were true, the idiot would have been on The Apprentice, jumping on the couch with Oprah, written books about his expertise, and sold billions of copies. The money earned could be used for more toy-making, increasing wages, benefits, and handing out big bonuses to his workers, but since he’s an asshole, he would probably choose to use the cash to retire in a nice, expensive island somewhere, while laughing at his staff for being such huge suckers. Stick it to the man, Elves, stick it to the man!

It pisses me off to think that Santa uses height-challenged people (or are they kids disguised as adult little people? In which case, I'll be reporting you to the authorities for using child labor) to produce the toys, like indentured servants, while his flaccid derriere sits in a big throne, complaining how he's sooo busy. And what's with you, Elves? What happened to your pride and dignity? Who stole the "s" in "selves"? (Another word worth looking into: selves. You know those letters also spell "slaves", if you remove an "e" and replace it with an "a"?) Santa's just using you! He don't love you like that.

Where is PETA on this? Didn't we notice the whip that sadist dangles over the poor, innocent reindeer?

How come only certain kids receive gifts, while others (i.e. Jewish, Hindu, and so on) get zip?

How about the kids in Africa, do they know it's Christmastime at all? (line totally stolen from a popular song, but really, why do we assume others feel bad because they don't celebrate this holiday? OMG, I just read the lyrics, this song blows chunks!)

Know what, Satan Claws? You're on MY list now, bitch.