Monday, January 8, 2018

It's The Most Wonderful Time...Of The Year

Once every few years, I manage to catch a cold that always starts out as a simple little annoying cough...which then turns into a big friggin' sinus infection. Before I know it, my nose has turned into a giant snot faucet.

Being the Google fan that I am, and because I have no energy to do anything else, a little self-diagnostic web surfing is a requirement.

I didn't get very far before reading that a person's body, mine currently, can produce up to two quarts of snot a day when you're sick. TWO FUCKING QUARTS IS A LOT OF SNOT. It's a HALF GALLON. Ewwwww....

Color and consistency are also important snot watching factors to consider when self-diagnosing. In fact, there was a handy snot color chart on a UK website that I visited...sort of a snot color wheel...

 You're normal.
  You're congested.
 Your cold or infection is progressing.
 Your immune system is really fighting back.
Pink or Red...   
 This is blood.
 Could be blood. More likely something inhaled, like dirt, snuff, or paprika.
 If you're not a smoker or user of illegal drugs, may indicate a serious fungal infection.

I'm not making this up, it really said all these things. I actually had to look up snuff because I thought it was something from bygone days but apparently, it's quite the thing to sniff up your nose. Who knew? I thought all smokeless tobacco went into your mouth. I also thought the paprika thing was kinda random too. We have red dirt where I live so my brown snot would be much more likely resulting from me inhaling red dirt than paprika.

Here's another little handy insight. The little drip at the end of your nose on a really cold day? The one that just hangs there and that you know the person you're talking to is staring at, wishing you'd have the decency to wipe your nose, but you can't because you're the one old lady in the whole world who doesn't have a Kleenex handy. It's water condensed out of the cold air passing over warm nasal tissues. It's not snot...or not much...

And here's another little appetizing factoid that I truly wish with all my heart I could un-know. The average non-sick person swallows 1.5 quarts of snot a day. Every day of my life I've been swallowing between one and two quarts of snot.

And you have too!

It's the Stoopidist Thing...

P.S. You're welcome for that last little tidbit of info.

Wednesday, September 27, 2017

I Can't Believe I'm Watching The Weather Channel

The Husband can watch The Weather Channel on TV 24 hours a day. It's his "go to" station. Never mind that it's a loop that plays over for hours, AND they get the weather forecasts wrong all the time. It's like watching reruns of wrong weather forecasting. (Okay, in the interest of fairness, they do occasionally get it right...sometimes.)

Until this weekend, I never thought I would welcome seeing The Weather Channel with its horrible music and mostly wrong predictions....but I've snapped...

In the immortal words of Popeye, "That's all I can stands, I can't stands no more!".

This whole fucking football thing is making me crazy. Is there nothing going on in the world that's maybe just a little more important than "who's kneeling or not kneeling" during the national anthem? Seems to me there were just some hurricanes that caused a whole bunch of problems for a lot of people. But, that's probably not as important as who's kneeling or not kneeling. I mean, poor little Puerto Rico loses power on the whole fucking island...but it's more important to talk about who's kneeling or not kneeling at a football game.

Crazy dude in North Korea wants to nuke us, and the big guy on Pennsylvania Ave. tells him "You'll be sorrrrrry" in between early morning tweets about the ever so important topic of who's fucking kneeling or not kneeling!!!

People on the left hate the Prez. The guy could shit gold bricks, miraculously bring about world peace, cure all diseases, and they'd still manage to find something to bitch about. People on the right who love him act like he's so fucking wonderful, that he may in fact shit gold bricks, and make excuses for every little thing he does that causes outrage among the masses.

But the majority of us are "Middle of the Road Joes". We go to work, go home, have families...just the normal shit that makes up our lives. None of us MRJ's really wants to be constantly bombarded by outrage from the left or right. So why not just shut the fuck up for a little bit?

I'm soooo sick and tired of every fucking thing being politicized. I mean, have you even tried to watch a TV awards show? Such moral outrage, and courageous words of wisdom. Am I wrong, or do they seem like the most ungrateful group of One Per Cent'ers on the planet? Fucking ingrates. Although, I admit, if Ricky Gervais is hosting I may have to suffer through, 'cause he's really funny.

The other side is no better. We MRJ's have these two obnoxiously loud voices yelling at us from both sides...and you ALL sound like assholes!

Please, just think about us oldsters. We can't take the stress, you know? Maybe you could just tone down the outrage a teensy weensy bit. We're too old to learn new things like "peoples proper pronouns". What does that even mean? When would it even be a problem? And, more importantly, do we need another fucking law about it?

For the most part, we MRJ's just wanna be left alone to live our lives. You know, come home, eat a little dinner, watch a little TV, maybe see a football game, without members of the various Assholian Tribes insisting on endlessly inflicting their point of view...

Kinda like what I just did...It's The Stoopidist Thing.

Tuesday, August 1, 2017

It Happened Again...

No, I didn't accidentally fart in public. At least not that I'm aware of. Although, I suppose the older I get, the more I can expect those little bodily outbursts. I mean, is anyone exempt? If they are, I'd like to know how I can get in on that particular exemption.

Sadly, this was least for me.

A couple of weeks ago, there was a surprise gala for Terri, the oldest of the Old Chix. She didn't want any kind of party so of course, her daughter in law, Steph, threw her a SURPRISE PARTY!

And guess what old people like more than anything else??? Taking pictures of other old people! And grandkids, they like taking pictures of grandkids too. But since this was a party sans children, all that was left to take pictures of were other old people.

Let me tell you, this place was filled to the brim with oldsters. Everyone there was a blue head. It was a whole crowd of Far Side folk.

Happily, for me, The Scari One rocked the Far Sidian face better than all the rest of us. Usually, I take top Far Sidian honors.

Unhappily for me, the entire debacle was captured digitally by none other than sweet little Laura S... who, bless her heart, then made DVD copies and mailed them to people. She's just so fucking thoughtful, our little Laura.

Cindy S., no relation to Laura S., though you wouldn't know it, given their mutual membership in the Suzy Snapshot club, took pics and plastered them all over FB. Thankfully I escaped her lens.

Lois, Chris, & Terri, fared the best on this photographic go 'round. But honestly, I've never seen a bad picture of Lois. She's one of those women who always looks good. Sometimes we hate her. Okay, not really. At least the rest of the Old Chix don't. But, I think I might. She sees a camera and automatically smiles. I see a camera and automatically put on my Far Side face. I don't even have to's just natural. I'm blessed that way.

You'd think after all these years I'd be a little more gracious about the whole picture taking gig, wouldn't you? But the older I get, the more I look like an old, wrinkled, weasel faced Asian woman whose eyes disappear when she smiles. Just for the record, I have no Asian ancestry...that I know of, but my eyes turn into slits in my face when  I smile.

Maybe it's happened all my life and I just never knew it. Or now that I'm old & wrinkled I notice it more...either way, it's The Stoopidist Thing.

Monday, July 17, 2017

Why Didn't She Tell Me????

You know how you walk down an aisle in a store and you see a woman who has a button popped open? Do you tell her? I do...always. Why? Because I would want someone to tell me.

So imagine my surprise when my little co-worker, The Princess, who I thought was my friend, didn't tell me!!!

Oh, it wasn't a button that popped. It was worse....

I'm a confirmed cosmetic junkie. There's probably some deep, dark, dastardly reason why I feel compelled to buy all kinds of makeup. I don't have any idea what it is and to be truthful, don't really care. Home shopping TV channels make it easy to indulge my habit.

One of my latest purchases was a trio of clear lipsticks. They're like a solid gel stick, that leaves just a hint of color on your lips...supposedly adjusting to your...or, in this case, my, skin tone.

I showed one to The Princess this morning and told her if she wasn't afraid of cooties, she should try it...mistakenly thinking her hesitancy was somehow related to a fear of germs.

She tried it and got the "hint of color"...the one I thought I had. That was, until the end of the day when I went to the bathroom and saw my face in the mirror when I went to wash my hands.

It looked like I had hot pink clown lips. No shit...the brightest fucking pink you could imagine was plastered on the ol' pie hole. I was horrified... I tried to wipe it off with the paper towel after I dried my hands and it wouldn't wipe off. It felt like a nice lip balm going on so I just kept slathering it on all day, completely unaware that my lips were getting pinker and pinker with each slather.

When the wet paper towel failed me, I left the bathroom and headed back to my office...with my hand covering up the fuschia lips. I was laughing by this time...because, really, what else could I do.

I stopped by to give The Princess a piece of my mind on my way back...

"Why didn't you tell me my lips were bright pink?" "How could you let me walk around like that?"

She laughed sheepishly...obviously because I looked like an ol' pink lipped clown screeching at her.

You know how you see an old lady in a store, all pale wrinkled skin, no color on her face at all...except for bright red lips? And you think to yourself, holy fuck, doesn't she have a mirror in her house? What's with the lips grandma? Why didn't someone tell her???

I have no idea how this happened...she is me...or, I am her...or somehow I got her fucking's The Stoopidist Thing.

Political Correctnesss

I was walking down the hallway at work one day recently and I came upon this picture/mural/poster on the wall...

You're probably thinking WTF??? Well, welcome to my world...because that's what I was thinking too. I had to go back to my office and get my phone just so I could take a picture. Nobody would've believed it if I'd tried to explain there was a giant poster of Sasquatch waving from behind a tree with a spaceship hovering overhead.

You might be under the impression that kindergarteners made this poster...and you'd be sadly mistaken. The less than talented artists who proudly displayed this masterpiece are none other than employees of the building where I work.

I'm sure this is some kind of "team building" exercise meant to bring co-workers together and establish a sense of camaraderie. Maybe everyone spent their lunch hour huddled together with crayons and construction paper laughing & having a great time. If that was the case I'm sure it was fun and a good time was probably had by all...until they got to Big Foot Boobage...

 ...which looks like two empty circles on his chest...or her chest. Kind of hard to tell. Shouldn't there be some little dot of a nipple somewhere in those circles? I mean, male or female, there should be nipples, right?

If you look closely, Big Foot has fingernails & toenails. He/She even has green eyes, defined lips, teeth and lots of detail was important to the artist...and yet no nips.

I can totally imagine how this happened. In this uptight, politically correct world we're living in, everyone is soooo afraid of "offending" anyone about anything.
You can imagine them huddled around the table, wondering how to draw boobage on an imaginary ape like creature, can't you?

"What should we do?"
"No! What if someone complained?"
"It's not like a porn picture, it's nature."
"Should we just cover it up completely with hair?"
"Apes don't really have hair there, do they?"
"But it's a Bigfoot, they're not real anyway."
"Let's just not put anything there, then nobody can complain."


I don't know about you, but I'm kinda sick of all the political correctness every-fucking-where I go. I can get that they wouldn't want to display any lower genitalia on the mythical creature. Then they'd have another it a boy or girl Bigfoot? How do we draw a dick on a Bigfoot? But, male or female, all mammals have nipples, don't they?

So, unknown artists, next time the creative juices start to flow, don't hold back. If you're going to take the time to attempt to draw a chest area complete with nipple-less boobage, add a little dark dot of a nipple. Doesn't have to be a rosy pink or anything like that...just a little dot to show you know where it goes.

It's the Stoopidist Thing....

It would have been funny if they'd drawn nipples and then stuck pasties to cover them up. I wanted to draw them on myself but I was too slow. I also wanted to stand in the women's restroom wearing a Scream mask and long black cape at Halloween just to see the reaction of women coming in. Maybe this Halloween...

Thursday, June 8, 2017


Let me begin by saying I have never posted anything on Facebook. I started a page to use for work only. Cleverly, I used my cat's name instead of my real name. Not so cleverly, I let it slip to a couple of friends who then became my "Facebook Friends" which ended any chance of using it for work. So now, technically, I suppose I do have a "Facebook" page...that has FB friends and everything...all under my cat's name.

Even though I've never posted or "shared", or "liked" anything, I get feeds from FB friends so I can see what they post. I also get a lot of weird shit from weird places...for example...

This was on my page today from a someplace called "Get It Free".

If You Find A Pimple At The Top Of Your Butt Crack, It May Actually Be A Pilonidal Cyst

WTF??? Why would they send me this? I haven't done any Google searches about Pilonidal Cysts. I haven't joined any FB Groups for "Sufferers of Pilonidal Cysts". So why does this stuff appear on my page? 

Just for the record, there was a cute little cartoon picture of a butt crack with a red pimple looking thing at the top but I was afraid I'd be infringing on someone's precious butt picture copyright if I posted it here. Which doesn't seem right, does it? I mean, if it pops up on my page shouldn't I be able to put it where ever I want?

Since I didn't know about this malady, of course, I had to find out. So then I actually had to do a Google search on Pilonidal Cysts...complete with photos.
I am now very thankful that I don't suffer from occasional or, even worse, Chronic Pilonidal Cysts. 

Seems these little jewels are caused by an abrasion or sore that collects skin "debris" and hair. I found the following little tidbit of info especially disgusting for some reason...the term "Pilonidal" literally means "hair nest". How fucking gross is that??? You end up with a hair nest zit on top of your butt crack.

And, as with all advice about popping're not supposed to pop the Pilonidal Cyst either. You're supposed to use warm compresses until it drains "naturally". How could you not pop it? And what's the difference if it pops naturally or with a little help from a friend...thereby speeding up the process?

Admittedly, the physical mechanics would be a little more difficult than popping a pimple on your forehead, but I've always found that where there's a will, there's a's The Stoopidist Thing.

P.S. I really am glad I don't have one of these things or I'd be forced to join some hobo's ass group of sufferers...all using fake pet names in order to avoid the stigma of being a hair nest butt crack pimple sufferer...or maybe it would be a butt crack hair nest pimple sufferer...either way it would be hobo's ass, literally.

Saturday, May 27, 2017


I read an article last week about the benefits of eating boogers. No kidding. The article said that scientists from Harvard and MIT, among other universities, claim that you shouldn't discourage booger eating in children...GROSS. Seems they think boogers contain a bunch of  "good bacteria" that can benefit your health...or, more specifically, your child's health...because if it benefited your health, that would mean you were eating your kid's boogers...which is doubly gross. Never in my life have I heard of anyone eating someone else's boogers.

I have questions...

Just how many boogers do you have to eat before noticing any health benefits? And for how long? Is there a maximum efficacy level? How are they measured?Size? Weight? Bacterial ingredient quantity? Do you need three heaping teaspoons a day? If that's the case you're probably gonna have to go to the local mucous market and grab a freeze dried "Bag O' Boogies". I would imagine they'd have to be dried, don't you think? Undried would be just too up-chuckable.

I'd like to know who thinks up this kind of thing? Who thinks this is the sort of habit that needs to be studied? And where do they get the people to participate in this kind of "study"? Would you? How much would it take in cold hard cash to let people watch you eat boogers? And record it...because you know they probably did.

I have dogs that like to eat horse poop and cat turds. I'm assuming they must get some nutritional value from them or they wouldn't be snarfing them down. Is something like that going to be next?

Maybe they didn't use "real" boogers, maybe they used "synthetic" boogers. Which, really wouldn't be eating boogers at all now would it? Like eating fake cheese.

Somehow, this seems like one of those stories that just can't be true. Everything about it seems like it would be too difficult. Finding participants...with sufficient quantity and quality boogerage to participate. Because I'm guessing hobo boogers have a different quality of bacteria than someone trying to live in a germ-free environment, wouldn't you?

The more I think about it, it probably wasn't any study about booger benefits at all. It was probably some college kids trying to see just what it would take to get people to eat their own boogers.

Just for the record...I'd eat a booger for a million bucks...and let someone record it...obviously, I have no's The Stoopidist Thing.