Wednesday, March 30, 2011

Bathroom Emergency!!!

I've complained frequently about the bathroom in the building where I work.  Its an employee only area that is "fragrance free" area and as such usually smells like an outhouse.  Sometimes it's so bad the smell wafts down the hallway.  It is truly disgusting.  Not the point today...

Yesterday before I left work I had to pee.  I usually try to use the extra large handicapped stall since the other ones are so small that your elbows practically touch the walls on either side.  I'm a little claustrophobic and the bigger one is just more comfortable.  In a pinch, I'll suffer through the smaller ones though...sometimes you just can't be too choosy.  I was really happy that the big stall was empty when I walked in the bathroom. I know it's pathetic that something like having my favorite stall free makes me's even weird having a "favorite" stall, I know.  Then, something caught my eye...there was something on the floor in front of the toilet.

I couldn't believe my eyes...there was a pile of shit on the floor!  I'm being literal here...not just a pile of "stuff" was actual human fecal matter.  Now I'm old and my eyesight's not as good as it once was and...this is embarrassing to admit...I bent down in front of it to see if it actually was what I thought it was...and it was! Thank God nobody came in and saw me bending down in front of the offending may have looked like I was paying homage to a pile of shit or something.

WTF!!! Who would shit on the floor in a restroom with the toilet an inch away???  And who wouldn't clean it up if it was an accident?  I mean, there's been times when everyone's been dancing in place trying to get their pants down before the poop starts shooting out. Why is it that it's always harder to get your pants down when you have to pee or poop really bad?  You can never get the door unlocked quickly either if you're trying to get in the house after a mad dash from town...why is that? Now I can understand there can be some urgency involved in the whole "process".  But usually when something like that happens, the outpouring is, shall we say, more fluid...more explosive...this was definitely a turd fully formed. 

To make matters worse, whoever did it stepped in least I hope it was the pooper and not some poor schmoe who actually walked in to sneak a poop and ended up stepping in someone else's poop.  How friggin' horrible would that be?  Nobody wants to poop at work, least of all me...that's strictly "at home duty" as far as I'm concerned but there are occasions when even I've been a sneak a pooper.

So I did what any good concerned employee would do.   I rushed back to my office and grabbed the Princess and made her go look.  There we were, two grown ass women, one old, one young, standing in the women's "fragrance free" bathroom laughing hysterically at the disgusting fact that someone pooped on the floor.  Every time someone came in we made them look too...very mature...every one else laughed too...thank God we weren't the only ones. It would have made us look really weird if we were laughing at it and everyone else was horrified and serious.

The "poop on the floor" incident generated several emails throughout the administration.  Everyone was horrified that someone would do that...then they laughed.  Personally I think a loud speaker announcement would have been wonderful. 

Can't you imagine hearing on an intercom system "Whoever just pooped on the floor in the women's "fragrance free" restroom (we must be specific about location lest there be other floor poopers in other restrooms) report to your supervisor's office immediately.  We have your DNA...we know who you are.  You stepped in it and we are calling in the CSI gang with magic chemicals that will track your footprints to your desk."

At this point, everyone would be looking around at each other wondering who the pooper is...rumors would start to fly...everyone would be suspect...okay, not the men because they have their own bathroom...everyone else would be fair game though...

I still can't believe someone actually did this and that my friends and I got so many laughs out of's the stoopidist thing.

Tuesday, March 29, 2011

Stoopid Thing I Did

Today I had an appointment with a young man I'd never met in the lobby of a large government building to have him sign some papers.  I took the Princess with me since she had some things she needed to do and more importantly, to keep me company...(it is all about me, after all).  We walk in all fat, dumb & happy and go to the end of the waiting line for service.  There's one young man in front of me so I thought I'd see if it was the guy I'm there to meet.  This is our conversation.

Me:  "Hi, are you Matthew?"

SHE:  "NO"

Me:   Please God, let the ground swallow me up (to myself)

Me:   Silently mouthing to the Princess "It's a girl!!!  Did you see?...I just asked
          that girl if she was "Matthew"....

Princess:  Trying very hard not to laugh out loud at me obviously being a moron "mouthing" what I'd just she didn't hear me while standing a whole six inches away from me..

I do shit like this all the's the stoopidist thing.

Food For The Day - Monday

I've decided to start over and actually try to curb my sugar, fat, carb, caloric intake.  Looking back I think I can see where I'm going's all the crap I'm shoving in my face.  Maybe if I'd just keep the pie hole shut and stop shoving junk into it all day long my pants would fit.  Just a thought.  I may be wrong...first time in 2011 (just kidding).

Diet Pepsi
1 Container of Activia Yogurt (I'm not going for the intestinal benefits here, I just like the taste...please, please, please don't make me poop at work.)

I walked by the bowl of jelly beans and almost grabbed some.  I want them really bad.

I ate a cheese stick...Colby cheddar.  Immediately following I ate two York Peppermint Patty's...I can't believe how weak and spineless I am.  I have no will power whatsoever.  WTF is wrong with me???  I didn't even really think about it when I ate them.  Okay, I didn't think about the first one, but I did think about the second one.

One orange followed by six Triscuits and a piece of Havarti cheese.  (I'm trying not to let my stumble earlier affect the rest of my day...I still really want to dip into the bowl of jelly beans....they're calling me.)

I ate two more peppermint patty's at work.  And about 10 almonds. 

Once I got home, I ate 3 chocolate chip cookies...and, get this...another Lean Cuisine.   I should have gone riding after work...I wouldn't have eaten so much.  But the dogs got out of the yard and I went home to fix the radio fence.  Lately things have been going wrong...collars quit working...the receiver box quits working...there's breaks in the wire...I dunno...

So I get home and trudge down to the pump shed...gonna fix it...

I have to say here, The Husband loves to build sheds.  Some people live on property dotted with beautiful shrubbery...I live on property dotted with sheds.  I told him the next shed he builds has to be a two story shed.  At least it would be a little different...a shed with character.  Pretty soon I expect him to build connecting covered walkways between his sheds.  Kind of like the Winchester Mystery House...the white trash version. I figure it's the natural course of events to come at our house.  But it makes him happy and we're old and this is one of the few things he can still do...we have to take our happiness where we can find it...

Anyway, I go into said shed (I could go off on a Seussian session here...but I won't) and unplug the radio receiver box, unhook the wires and hook them all back up the way it was.  Pretty thmaaart don't you think???  I turn the dial (which sets the boundary limit) and immediately hear the Cartoon Dog yelp...guess she was too least I know her collar works.  I turn the dial the other way and start over...another Cartoon I feel really bad.  I've shocked the poor dog twice in a least the light is out and I think that's my goal.  At least it was with the old box. 

Hiking back up to the house, I'm looking for the Cartoon Dog.  There she is hiding under the trailer.  I feel really bad because she's the only one who stays in the yard even when she doesn't have her collar on...and she's the dunder who gets shocked.  I swap collars and put the one I know works on little one eyed Jasper.  Roxie is over at the neighbors visiting the Hooligans (that's what I call the neighbor's dogs).  When she comes home, she'll sit patiently outside the fence waiting for me to come remove her collar so she can cross the boundary.  She's pretty smart.  She knows how to beat the fence.  It may be time to put up a real fence to keep her in.  We shall see.

The fabulous part is I only ate one, count 'em, one fudge bar's the stoopidist thing.

Sunday, March 27, 2011

Food Intake - Day Seven

Diet Pepsi

1 Baby Bella (The last of a bag purchased at Costco)

1 Banana

10 Chocolate Chip cookies

I am now going to blame someone other than myself for my food intake...The Pioneer Woman. I know she didn't shove the food in my mouth, but I'm addicted to her website and the companion, Tasty Kitchen. I curse the day and the friend who directed me to The Pioneer Woman website. Today was probably the fifth time in two months that I've made Malted Milk Chocolate Chip cookies. They are wonderful. Throughout the day I ate at least 10, count 'em, 10... it's the number I'm admitting to.

1 Stir Fry beef & veggie bowl w/white rice

1 Mint ice cream sandwich (Skinny Cow...after all the cookies this seems even more ridiculous)

Tomorrow is Sunday. Day of rest. I need it because I'm pretty tired from all this eating.  It's the stoopidist thing.

Food Intake - Day Six

Diet Pepsi

1 Asian Pear

1 Colby Cheddar cheese stick

1 Banana

A few almonds ...I didn't count...but, I didn't have as many as usual....mostly because I don't really like almonds as well and that's all that's left in jar...those and Brazil nuts which will end up in the garbage when I get down to those.

Does anyone really eat Brazil nuts? Nobody ever ate them and somehow they always made their way into my Xmas stocking. Yes at my house, Santa annually dropped an orange and some Brazil nuts into the toe of my stocking. These are what parents of limited means refer to as stocking fillers...stuff that can cheaply fill up a stocking and not cost an arm and a leg. When my son was little, Santa left him a jar of sweet pickles in his stocking..but he LOVED sweet pickles...I hated Brazil nuts. I sound a little bitter, don't I??? My son left Santa a bowl of M&M's for a milk & cookies at our house...and guess what??? Santa LOVED them. I've gotten off track again...

2 Handfuls of M&M's

2 Handfuls of Tostitos (When I ran spell check, these are the options I was given for Tostitos- Testators, Tomtits (WTF???), Tomtit's (More WTF???), Testates, Toasties...apparently brand names are unknown to my spell check friend.)

1 Lean Cuisine (I realize the fact the I'm eating "Lean Cuisine" is the most ridiculous thing in the world after eating all of the above...but I really like the Chicken Carbonara)

2 Skinny Cow mint ice cream sandwich bars (Again, ridiculous, but delicious.) All in all, I don't think it's as bad as the days before...but then again, what do I know???  It's the stoopidist thing.

Thursday, March 24, 2011

Food Intake - Day Five

Diet Pepsi
1 Banana
1 Baby Bella
10 Jelly Beans (red & white)
1 York Peppermint Patty (mini)

I was doing really good until I started on the jelly beans.

1 Dark Chocolate Milky Way bit
1 Twix mini bit
20 or 30 Almonds
6 or 8 jelly beans
1 Lays Potato Chip lunch size bag

20 (I'm guessing because they were halves) Cashews
5 or 6 Almonds
1 Costco dog grilled on white bread (I'm sooo white trash)
2 Fudge Bars

I start my weekend on Day Six and made the husband bring the Pilates machine in from the shed. (Doesn't everyone keep them there?) I'm going to try to actually use it instead of just letting the cats sleep on it. Why do cats always want to sleep on anything new or different in the room? I'm also debating whether to try the low carb thing. Looking back on my daily diet, it seems like a long shot. Maybe I could switch it up, one day low carb, the next day low cal...I know I'm grasping at straws here, but then again that's what I's the stoopidist thing.

Wednesday, March 23, 2011

Food Intake - Day Four

Diet Pepsi

1 Orange (It's becoming noticeable that I only eat one of a "healthy" food item but always more than one of something "unhealthy"....see below.)

2 Werthers soft caramels.

2 More caramels.

1 Container of strawberry yogurt. ('s really good.)

1 Asian Pear.

1 Colby Cheddar Cheese stick

20 + Jelly beans. (I couldn't stop until all the red & white ones were gone...I like to eat them together...I know it's weird but I can't help it. After all the white or reds are gone, I start pairing with pinks, pink & white or pink & final pairing is pink & purple. We're down to yellow, green, and orange which I will not eat.)

1 York Peppermint Patty (fun size)

1 Kit Kat bit

30 Or more cashews

1 Costco dog on white bread (I can't let them go to waste...)

1 Fudge Bar (I cut down)

So I think I did a little better today...I only had one Fudge Bar and I added another piece of fruit. I went to the store and bought some carrots, bread (sourdough of course...for peanut butter toast), Triscuts, oranges, and yogurt. After seeing, in writing, what I ate, I felt compelled to add some "healthier" foods. Somehow it didn't stop me from eating the other junk...If you think about it, I just ate more by adding the "healthy" stuff. How's that going to do me any good?

The carrots I bought are "baby" carrots, the kind you buy in a little plastic bag, ready to eat. My dad once told me that they aren't really "baby" carrots at all, just old, broken, probably rotten carrots that they file down to sell to patsies like me. Have you ever noticed that they tend to get slimy really fast?

It's not that I don't "buy" healthy foods, I do...I actually spend a lot of money on food...I love food. I also waste a lot of food. I go to the store and have all these great recipes that I'm going to cook so I buy all this food, bring it home and put it in the fridge, which, as it turns out, is a superb food rotting machine. I heard a guy once who said crisper bins should be called rotters. He was right. Almost everything I put in rots from lack of attention in spite of my good intentions.

I tried to get the Princess to post her food for the day but she couldn't figure out how to add it so here's her food intake while at you see our food intakes are similar.

Princess Food Tuesday until 2:00 (Day Three)
English Muffin w/butter & Jam
Sweet Tea (very sugary)
Half of a mushroom/jack cheeseburger and fries
Root Beer
2 Mini Kit Kats
1 Mini Twix
1 Slice Muenster cheese
1 Big Cherry Candy Bar
1 Whole roll of wintergreen lifesavers

Apparently I'm not the only one with terrible eating habits (I knew I liked her for a reason)'s the stoopidist thing.

Tuesday, March 22, 2011

Food Intake - Day Three

Diet Pepsi

1 Banana.

7 cashews (I must admit I'm tempted to leave off the half nuts. It seems wrong to count half nuts.)

5 or 6 half nuts.

Baby Bella (I'm adding this pre-consuming because I know I'm headed to the refrigerator).

Half of a Mushroom/Jack burger and half an order of fries.

(The Princess and I split...that way I can still keep my top button closed.)

1 Kit Kat bit.

1 Fun sized Kit Kat (the bits are about half of a half of a fun size...a mini morsel).

2 More fun size Kit Kat bars.

1 Miniature Big Hunk.

3 Hand fulls or hands full (I never know...I don't even know if there's supposed to be two "l's" at the end.)

2 Fudge Bars

It's becoming apparent to me that my main diet consists of sugar and fat. ya think that's why I'm fat? But if I just eat less sugar and fat will my pants get looser? That's all I really be comfortable...forget all this "healthy" stuff. I just want my pants not to be too's the stoopidist thing.

Monday, March 21, 2011

Food Intake Day Two

Diet Pepsi

Asian Pear...peeled and neatly cut into chunks
(Please God don't let the shame induced addition of fresh fruit into my diet give me the scoots at know how I hate to poop in office bathrooms...I don't want to end up being a sneak-a-pooper.)

Baby Bella cheese wheel

(20 cashews, 3 macadamia halves...not even whole macadamias...jeesh)

2 fun size Hershey bars

1 Kit Kat bit (this was really tiny)

1 lunch size bag of Lays potato chips

15 almonds (I'm already resorting to counting them out...I haven't started lying yet)

1 Colby Cheddar Cheese stick

7 almonds (this may work...I've noticeably cut down)

1 small bag of circus animals cookies...the frosted kind. (I know there supposed to be no difference but I like the pink ones best. It doesn't stop me from eating the white ones too though.)

6 or 8 cashews. Costco dog grilled on a piece of white bread w/mayo & ketchup. (Totally white trash I know, but what can I say??? I also love, love, love bologna on white bread w/mayo. I blame my parents for my trashy food likes & dislikes. Since they're both dead, there's nobody to contradict me, now is there? Does that make me an orphan?)

3 bites of left over Rib Eye

Several cashews

Fudge Bar

Fudge Bar

This is kinda embarrassing. I mean, I know I eat a lot of junk, but I eat almost nothing but junk. I don't think I'm this bad all the time. I don't remember how long I said I was going to do this but if it stays like this, the experiment is definitely going to be cut short. I mean, why would someone deliberately humiliate herself (is that supposed to be two words or one?)'s the stoopidist thing.

Food For The Day

I'm going to try an experiment to see if I can shame myself into eating a healthier diet. Maybe if I actually write down what I eat, I can see the folly of my ways in print and change my bad habits. I'm going to try it for a month...I think...the shame may be to great to bear.

Diet Pepsi
Baby Bella Cheese
(The kind wrapped in a little wax wheel that you peel off...yum)
Colby Cheese Stick
Handful of Pretzels
(probably ten...I should have counted...note to time count pretzels)
Handful of Pretzels
Baby Bella Cheese
(At least an hour elapsed between the that right?...of pretzels)
Klondike Ice Cream Sandwich
Klondike Ice Cream Sandwich
(Yes, I ate two right in a row...only minutes apart)
(I opened a new jar of mixed nuts from Costco which I'm now forced to eat since they quit carrying the big cans of Macadamia Nuts...which I'm heartbroken about. I ate sever handfuls of mostly Cashews, Pecans, and Macadamias...of which there are far too few. I don't really like the Almonds and Brazil nuts but after I've picked out the ones I want, I'll eat those too.)
Rib Eye Steak
Roasted Garlic Mashed Potato's
(I spell checked this and chose this option for potato's rather than potatoes...seems wrong to have a toe at the end of your potato...I'm too lazy to actually check and find the correct plural.)
Fudge Bar
Fudge Bar
(These weren't minutes apart, there was at least a half an hour between them. I think that's an improvement right there.)

Day One has ended. Day Two has begun.

This is probably not the dumbest thing I've done but I may prove myself's the stoopidist thing.


I attended a disaster training last weekend. It was attended by several government agency personnel all role playing their action filled parts replete with blood (fake, of course) soaked actors portraying helpless victims. All the "highly charged" action sequences were filmed, over and over and over by a professional production company for posterity, or training purposes, or just for grins...or maybe they just had a few extra tax payer dollars they needed to blow. (That sounds a little bitter, doesn't' it?) It seemed like most of the time was spent having meetings.

Administrative types love meetings. This particular group of administrators was definitely a "boys club"....need I say more? The day started with meetings called "briefings", which is just another name for meetings. Briefing sounds much more official, doesn't it??? "He Man" stuff. "He Man" types love sounding "official", don't they? I think they secretly love hearing the sound of their own voice. And being "in charge". I think they like that most of all. OMG I'm starting to sound like Andy Rooney...please God, don't let my eyebrows get like his.(I have a few gray ones but I'm afraid to pluck them out...what if they don't grow back??)

At the "briefings" everyone was informed about the "scenarios". Each person (mostly wanna be "He Men")was told where to go and what to do. I'm fairly certain this will never happen during a "real" catastrophe. First of all, it's been my experience that during the initial stages of any type of significant "event", the most time is spent trying to notify (read...find) the people (usually "He Man" types)who are supposed to be "in charge". I must admit, the advent of cellular technology has improved this task immensely. Everybody and their brother now carry cell phones somewhere on their person, lest they miss an important text asking the all important question "where r u?". (This is the main reason I don't text...the grammar and spelling are soooo horrible. Kids these days think "r u" are actually words and not just letters.)

I was actually accused of being a "Luddidite" by an administrative "He Man" type. because of my refusal to join the ranks of the cellularly advanced. I pointed out that the correct term would be "Luddite" and to this day he has refused to acknowledge his error. "He Man" types are like that. Since I'm not an administrative "He Man", I have no problem pointing out my "cellularly"'s probably not a word at all. Like's not a're either flustered or frustrated.

Back to the "training".... Most of the "He Men" and "Wanna Bee's" hung out in the food center, which I totally get. I would have been there too if I could. A local cafe catered the event and there were brownies to die for. The "He Men" got to be filmed being hero's saving the day and were all brightly shining stars for a brief moment in time. Don't know if it'll do much good when the time comes though.

The older I get, the less patient I am. Sad, but true. Even though I work diligently on trying to be more patient (okay maybe not diligently, but I am trying)..I still get impatient. I have no patience for goofy rules and plans that seem to make no sense. This day was filled with both.

In my pea brain, it's all about common sense, a commodity that most administrative types seem to be severely lacking. If you have to be told to run for high ground during a flood, you have no common sense...if you have to be told to leave a building that's on fire, you have no common sense...if there's a bomb threat and you pick up a strange looking package and shake it, you have no common sense...and unless you are severely retarded you deserve to be eliminated from the gene pool...too bad, so sad, adios amigo.

I'm pretty sure that by the time a real disaster hits, no one's going to remember anything from this "training" anyway...except the's the stoopidist thing.

Wednesday, March 16, 2011


I usually like getting up in the morning. The older I get, the more of a morning person I've become. Except on work days. I hate getting up on work days. I hate anything I "have" to do. Most mornings I futz around, check email, have my morning Diet Pepsi, (where I get my needed caffeine...I've never had coffee...weird, I know) and generally waste time until I have to go to work. I don't really do anything productive on work mornings. I use work as an excuse not to do anything else. Can't do laundry...don't have time. Can't vacuum...would wake sleeping husband. I have excuses for everything. I am the Queen of Procrastination.

This morning has started badly. Sitting here fat, dumb, and happy, minding my own business I hear the dreaded sound of kitty barfing...a sound anyone who has cats knows immediately. That retching sound is like no other.

The culprit this morning is Lilli, the ugliest cat in the world, who thinks she's beautiful. She rules our lives. She wants to go out...we jump up and rush to open the door for her. She wants back in...we rush to open the door for her...the same door that we opened only two minutes before. Lilli wants food...we jump up and make sure there's food in her dish...she has us perfectly trained.

Apparently last night Lilli got stuck outside so this morning she was waiting at the door to come in. Since she's been away from the food dish while outside, she's now starving. Straight to the food dish she goes and chows down voraciously on kitty kibble. Next it's time for a well deserved nap so the couch looks good to her. Of course she sits on my side of the couch where the dreaded retching first occurs producing a long snake like mass of recently ingested kitty kibble. I dutifully get mass quantities of paper towels, both wet and dry, along with pre-moistened cleaning wipes (whose inventor I owe my undying gratitude to) to clean up after our precious girl.

All in all, if you have to clean up after animals, which everyone who owns animals does, snake like ropes of kitty barf are actually one of the easiest clean ups...way easier than say a puddle of diarrhea (way less stinky too). So it's a quick clean. As I'm dumping the wad of paper towels in the garbage can I hear the dreaded sound again...fuck me runnin' (I think to myself). Heavy sigh, which does absolutely no good, but makes me feel a little better (sort of an inner pity party) and I arm myself yet again with more paper products. This time the little sweetie has barfed on the husband's side of the couch (I know it's wrong, but I'm secretly glad it's on his side...good choice Lilli). Another kibble snake makes its way to the garbage...where I'm graced with the sound of yet a third round of retching. This time it's on top of the back of the couch. I'm going to have to restock my supply of paper products soon. This time it was just a few little pieces of kibble. No snakes. The worst thing about this process is the temperature of the kitty kibble barf snakes. They're warm. It somehow makes it worse.

I have, on occasion, been able to shove something under the cat's head while the retching was in progress to catch the offending mass before it hits the ground. Sometimes it's a magazine, or a paper plate. I have no doubt that I look incredibly stoopid when I try to do this. The cat always has the audacity to look at me like I'VE just done something offending, like I've interrupted an artwork in progress. Cats are such ingrates.

This is my morning. I hope it's not indicative of how my day's going to go.

The good news is that I didn't get behind any booberdoobers on my way to work. I'm taking that as a omen that my day is going to get better. I know it's grasping at straws but I can't help's the stoopidist thing.

Monday, March 14, 2011

The Psychic

One of my Old Chix friends and I went to a psychic/medium/healer yesterday. This is a woman we have both known for years who now has (in addition to her regular job) an office where she does her psychic gig. She actually has a sign she hangs on the door that says "The Witch Is In" which I totally loved. The girl has always had a great sense of humor.

Our newly practicing Psychic Friend (this is how I'm now going to think of her...conveniently abbreviated to "PF") told us all her life she'd had "feelings" and premonitions that would come true and after thinking she was crazy for a good portion of her life, started taking classes on alternative belief's (she was formerly Catholic) and even went to some Harry Potterish school in England to study. I wanted to interject that I, too, had "feelings", but it somehow seemed inappropriate to point this out seeing as how mine are usually satisfied by some type of food product...usually ice cream.

PF does her thing sort of like John Edwards, she throws out dates, initials of names, etc. and hopefully you'll relate to something or someone. OC (Old Chix) went first.

Say your name three times. That's how it begins. So OC said her name and I had a tablet where I was supposed to write things down that didn't make sense or that OC couldn't relate to. Maybe later they would make sense. I pretty much failed as a scribe from the beginning. I wrote down a couple of initials, then my mind started to usual.

What if I said the wrong name three times??? Now this wouldn't work in this situation, because PF knows us. But what if we'd gone to a complete stranger? Who didn't know us? If I gave a fake name three times would PF get a bunch of strangers unrelated to me in her head all clamoring to have their voices heard? Or would my peeps still pop up? Would the PF see big STOP signs in her head telling her I was a BFL (Big Fat Liar)??? I really want to try this...just to see.

I did find out a couple of interesting things. Not everybody dreams like I do. OC doesn't. I have really vivid colorful dreams. Very realistic but odd. I'm turn into super woman in my dreams, I can fly if I need to, I can breathe under water. The only real downside to the realism is that sometimes they're really scary...and I can't hit or scream. Every time I scream, no sound comes out...I try, and try, and still I have no voice. My husband shook me awake one time when I was trying to scream (in my dream) but in reality, I was doing a deep monotone "ahhhhhhh". Sort of like a mentally handicapped person who can't talk. When I try to hit someone, usually my hitting arm moves in slow motion so the blow carries no wallop...this is soooo frustrating. I really want to smack someone...bad...and I can't.

I's "all about me"

So the PF got some things right and some things wrong but the one thing I'm grateful for is she told OC that she needs to go to the doctor and have a checkup, (which OC has consistently said she will never do). No mammograms or colonoscopy's for her, no effing way. Will this change her mind? I hope so. If it does, the trip was totally worth it.

PF also said she thought I was doing something "online". She thought it might be some type of business. Since she went on to use the word "business", I said no, but was that the right thing to say? The reason I said no was because I hadn't told anyone I was doing this blog. Now I feel guilty. Should I have fessed up? Should I tell her? I'm in a quandary. Should I do the right her and tell her she was kinda right??? But if she's really psychic, shouldn't she have known???
I feel all this guilt and I'm not even's the Stoopidist Thing.

P.S.  Guilt won out...I called & told her.

Tuesday, March 8, 2011

Washing the Weenie Part Deux

After managing to avoid this disgusting detail (which would make a wonderful episode of "Dirty Jobs" if it hasn't already been done) as long as I could, I finally put on my big girl pants (which are three sizes bigger thanks to Old Chix brunches) and started the task at hand...literally at hand.

It wasn't so much the weenie that needed cleaning as it was the sheath housing said weenie.

After donning pretty pink non latex gloves, Excalibur (gunk in the junk cleaning goo) was liberally placed in the palm of my hand (I had to warm it up because it was willy,willy code outside...and willies don't wike code...sounds like I'm speaking Fudian, doesn't it??). It's a green gooey gel that has an antiseptic smell to it. Don't think it would be something I'd want to rub all over myself, but then I'm not really into eucalyptus type smells. I'm more of a vanilla lover.

Or Amazing Amazing Grace.

So, here goes. Horse is tied at the post. Now this probably wasn't the best horse for my first time trying this. He's flighty, and spooks pretty easily, (Probably why he was free...that and the fact that they couldn't catch him) but he stands tied calmly looking at me (he really is a cute little thing) as I approach with palms filled with gobs of goo.

I reach down and touch the outside of the sheath and he doesn't move, so I work my way up inside. As soon as my hand is inside, I can feel the gunk lining the sides. GROSS, GROSS, GROSS. I actually didn't think it would be like this because his penis was really clean. Now I'm actually peeling this stuff of the inside of his sheath and when it comes out, it looks like pieces of beef jerky (which I will never eat again as long as I live). There's so much of this gunk in there that I wonder if it will ever all get out. No wonder his penis was clean, every time it dropped out it was scraping along all this gunk on the inside. Amazingly, the boy stands there for all this and even seems to be enjoying himself (this creeps me out a little...actually, more than a little).

After peeling a bunch of the stuff off, it seems like what's left is getting harder and harder to remove. At this point, I decide to smear a bunch of the goo up inside the sheath and leave it overnight to (hopefully) soften up what's left. Since you don't have to rinse this stuff off I figure it's safe.

Now I get to go back tonight and see if I can finish the job. Not only is it disgustingly gross, it hurts my old gimpy back to stand hunched over. I'm old and stiff and sore and crabby.

We're probably going to find out years from now that this is a totally unnecessary process and that gunk in the junk is actually beneficial for the horse. I mean, what do wild horses do? Who cleans their gunk..or junk? Maybe someone could 'splain eet tew mee. Por favor?? (Yes, I'm bilingual...well not really, I can only say por favor..and I don't know how to make the little accent mark.) One day we will probably find that smegma (gunk) is probably a necessary product the horse's body manufactures in order to keep bugs out of his sheath or something like that (really, I can't even believe a maggot would want to live in that stuff). But I'm quite sure that nobody will discover this until I've been sufficiently humiliated by this whole process and someone actually takes a picture of me with my hands wrapped around a horses' dick smiling for all the world to see.

I know it will happen. It's just a matter of's the stoopidist thing.

P.S. I think he smiled and winked at me when I left last night.

Old Chix

Sunday was Old Chix get together...which means eating and drinking and eating, and eating..

The crowd was the usuals, C, M, P, me, and...drum roll...favorite Old Chix alumni, L, who has no secrets and has never met a stranger.

We talked about the usual stuff old wimmen talk about. Hairy chins, fat stomachs, shrinking lips, hot flashes, the fact that wimmen worldwide think there is only one place to poop and that is in the privacy of their own home, spouses and/or significant others.

L is in BIG LOVE after having finally dumped a husband of decades who treated her like the proverbial fecal matter. We now know more about this man than any person who has never been intimate with him should know. We know too much...way too much. We also know too much about the new love...again, way too much. It was hilarious.

And the best part...I avoided washing the weenie (we're talking horse weenies here). Yes, after having over imbibed (at least food wise) I didn't make it to the barn to complete the dreaded task. Darn. I was so looking forward to it too (NOT).

This is why I didn't make it.

What I ate...Round 1
(and drank)


Cheesy eggs
Home Fries (I keep hoping they'll be good...they weren't)
Tri Tip
Fried Chicken
Mashed Potatoes and Gravy

and.....Diet Pepsi

2nd Round

Cheesy Eggs
Mashed Potatoes and Gravy

Apple Pie
and finally

Rocky Road Pie

The deserts are never as good as they look at those buffets, are they? Or is it just me?

As I sit here with my top button undone to avoid cutting off the circulation in my lower extremities, I no longer wonder why I'm fat. Apparently washing everything down with Diet Pepsi fails to negate previous calories consumed in mass quantities.

Who knew?

Probably everyone but's the stoopidist thing.

In the Disney world where I want to live, the process would be completely different. Mass quantities of calories could be consumed as much as your little heart desired with no ill effect or added girth. Chocolate milkshakes would be the beverage of choice with every meal. And old wimmen would never have gray hair, wrinkles, and pimples at the same time. (I have some serious complaining to do about this when I get to Heaven)

Sunday, March 6, 2011

The Husband

My husband, bless his heart, (I was told you can say pretty much anything about someone as long as you say "bless his/her heart"...kind of negates anything bad you say about a person) doesn't really pay attention to what I say. He hears what he wants to hear, not what I'm actually saying.

I have a coat rack hanging on the wall. It's one of the few things my mother gave me that's actually useful. Not the most attractive, but's made from half a wagon wheel with half a dozen hooks hanging along the bottom...she loved that "shabby chic" stuff.

Within the last week or so, two of the hooks broke. Apparently they weren't designed to hold five or six jackets each...they just don't make stuff like they used to. Truth be told, I had the jackets piled so high you could barely fit through the hallway without knocking one or two off every time you walked by.

So I'm standing in front of the bedroom door, folding clothes, and I ask my husband to get some hooks next time he goes to Home Depot.

My husband loves Home Depot..

And Lowes...

Our conversation goes like this...

Me: "Hey, next time you go to Home Depot, can you get some hooks for the coat rack?"

Husband: "Hooks?"

Me: "Yeah, hooks."

Husband: "Hooks?" (Accompanied by a stoopid look)

Me: "Yes...hooks"

Husband: "Hooks?" (Accompanied by an even stoopider look)

Me: (Now mildly annoyed) "Hooks for the coat rack."

Husband: "Hooks?" (Completely befuddled but catching on that he's annoying me)

Me: (Now more than mildly annoyed) "The hooks on the coat rack broke..we need some new ones."

Husband: (Who has finally realized he doesn't have a clue what I'm talking about and doesn't want to say "hooks" again, starts laughing when I stomp over and lift the remaining coats off one of the broken hooks so he can have a visual aid to relate to the word "hook") "Well if you didn't hang twenty coats on one hook, they probably wouldn't break."

By this time we're both laughing...

Sometimes The Husband is the stoopidst thing...bless his heart.

Washing the Weenie

Sounds fun, right??? Wrong. We're talking equine peni here (I've decided to make that the plural for's probably wrong, but I like it). Male horses get a nasty build up of a substance referred to by professional sorts as "smegma". Being a non professional, I like to refer to it as the boy's "gunk in his junk". A little crass, I know, but the description...fits.

Before starting, make sure there's no one with a camera withing 50 feet of your location. You want no photographic evidence of this event to haunt you in the days to come. And it will. (or the Scottish wull...think Braveheart) It'll be like those pseudo Visa emails with the poor girl all dressed up at a party...

Designer Dress...$1000
Jimmy Choo Heels....$500
Duct tape holding your boobs...priceless

Your version will be...

Fancy Barn and Wash Rack $30,000
Fancy "Registered" Gelding $5,000
Photo of "Fancy Registered Gelding's Owner" holding said geldings dick in her hands looking like she's jacking him off...priceless. Your face will be out in Internet land...eternally.

Trust will happen.

When I was a kid, nobody ever told me you were supposed to do this. I had horses and never once did anyone say...make sure you wash your horse's wiener...or pee never would have been...penis...

not in those days...

those were the days when your mom had "the talk" with you about being a woman...

which my mom didn't...

which is probably why I ended up pregnant when I was sixteen...

I digress..

Had anyone told me about this delightful chore, I probably never in my life would have owned a gelding. Now, as an adult, I've been given a gelding who needs to have the gunk in his junk removed. Regularly.

Today's the day...I'm armed with Excalibur (a horse sheath cleaning product that's probably just KY jelley with a fancy name and the price jacked up...poor choice of words considering the task at hand) and a hose with hot & cold running water.

But first...this morning is champagne brunch with the Old Chix!!!

Then sheath cleaning.

This is what I have to look forward to's the stoopidist thing.