Thursday, May 31, 2012


Will somebody please help the Strawberry Patch people with their signage?   I'm not just referring to the uneven hand painted lettering.  It's the spelling...

Every year around strawberry time, I secretly hope the Strawberry Patch people will by some miracle get new signs.  I know they have kids in school who must know how to why all the horribly misspelled signs?

You know the ones I'm talking about...Farm Fresh Strawberry For Sale...really...only one?  Who wants just one strawberry?  It's in more than one...

We Are Close.  I know you're close...if you were far away, I wouldn't stop at your strawberry patch stand.   (That's probably not true...I might drive many miles to get fresh strawberries...please note I said strawberries...plural...not just one.)  Attention all Strawberry Patch people...Closed is the word you want here.  Unless it was meant to be in close the door or We Close At Six.  That would a different sentence.  Come on Strawberry Patch Kids...fix the signs.

It's easier to translate a live performance of Strawberry Patch lingo than it is to read their signs.  How much you want...thees wan take thees wan...we ahh crows...I get this...accents are understandable and even when they're not, the accompanying smiles and nodding by all parties make it seem like everyone understands each other.  Most of the time I walk away wondering what I've been smiling and nodding about.  They probably told me I'm a fat old bitch who's not fit to eat their strawberries (plural) and I smiled and nodded like I knew what they were saying while they were looking at each other and laughing their asses off.

While we're on the subject of Strawberry Patch people...don't act like you've never heard the rumors of how the strawberries are "really" fertilized...just like back in the old country, right?  OF (Old Friend of undesirable snackage fame) once told me that the Strawberry Patch people are pretty closely monitored by the health department...but she tells me rotten food is still good to eat too...  Because she works at a health department with the food inspectors OF knows how long food can be rotten and still be safely consumed.   Did I mention that OF's job is inspecting septic tanks???  Now if she were to tell me exactly how much "fertilizer" from the old country could safely be put on strawberry plants leaving them fit for human consumption...that I might believe...since it's truly her area of expertise.

I really don't believe the vicious rumor about how the plants are fertilized.  If I did, I wouldn't start chowing down on them right out of the basket on the way a starving Armenian, would I? Does anyone remember your parents telling you about all the starving Armenians when you were a kid?  I always had to clean my plate because of the starving Armenians...I didn't even know what an Armenian was.  No, if I believed the vicious rumors I'd wait until they were properly you're supposed to, right?  But nearly every time I buy strawberries (plural) I start eating while I'm driving, pitching the little green tops out the window.  So I must not believe it, right?  It's not littering when it's plant matter your chucking out the window, is it? I tell myself I'm feeding the birds and bugs.

One of the reasons I continue to stop at the Strawberry Patch stand is the owners work their asses off. Every day, seven days a week, they're bent over in the hot sun taking care of their gardens.  I am completely humbled by their work ethic. I don't know how they do it.  They earn every penny they make.

Maybe I should just paint a sign with correct spelling and grammar and in the middle of the night, switch the signs at my favorite Strawberry Patch.  But if I did that, other patch patrons might think the original Strawberry Patch People were gone and that cheap impostors had taken over and stop patronizing their little stand.  Then how would I feel???  Guilty... because I pretty much feel guilty about everything in the world.  The Strawberry Patch People would lose business because of me and my need for correct signage when all they want is to sell their strawberries...note I said strawberries...because nobody can eat just one.

It's the stoopidist thing...

Tuesday, May 29, 2012

They're Everywhere

OF (Old Friend of undesirable snackage fame) has a sister who's a lesbian...with a wife...they were among the fortunate few who managed to tie the knot during the brief time it was legal for same sexers to marry.  I call them the Sister Wives...not to be confused with the polygamous gang on the reality TV show of the same name.  It just seems to fit...

BS & LS, Big Sis & Little Sis...shortened to eliminate keystrokes, really are big & little.  BS is about 6'15" and her wife is about 4' 2.  I think of LS as the Mighty Morphin.  I don't know why the Mighty Morphin thing pops into my head every time I think about LS.  I know there's a cartoon about Mighty Morphins but I've never actually seen one so they could be the complete opposite of what I picture in my mind...what I picture is sort of a little whirling dervish...maybe the Tasmanian Devil would be a better fit for least I know what that looks like.  The weirdest part is I don't even like cartoons, but cartoon characters pop into my head all the time.  Every time I see a group of old people, which would be my friends and I, I see a Far Side cartoon in living color.  OF thinks we're not old...she's wrong.

I could probably ask LS why cartoon characters pop into my head...she's a shrink...but I'm always secretly worried that she's analyzing everything I say...and if she's not, I don't want to encourage it. The first time I met LS she was sitting across from me on the couch and said these exact words to me..."I don't chit chat"...I didn't know how to respond...I can't even remember what I said...probably something brilliant like "oh".   Being a chit chatter, I didn't know if I should say "nice meeting you" and leave or just stare silently at her.  But if I stared silently, being a shrink, she might start asking me questions about why I was staring silently at her and try to analyze that.  If I deliberately tried not to look at her, she might want to know why I was avoiding looking at her and try to analyze that...either way, I lose.  I don't really need a shrink to tell me why I'm a chit chatter...I already know...I'm shallow...and perfectly content to remain shallow.  I'm much happier making fun of myself and others than trying to be Serious Sam all the time...especially with people I don't know.  It seems kinda rude and creeps me out when complete strangers ask me personal questions.  Why do they, "they" being strangers, want to know personal things about me? Ewwww...

BS is the complete opposite of LS...she's easy going, laughs at stoopid shit, and...chit chats...thank God! They're like night & day.   Even in the world of Lesbos, opposites attract...who knew?  BS calls the world of Lesbos "the church"...she'll look at someone and say "she's a church member".  I went to a horse clinic with OF & BS and there was a woman sitting next to us with a dog.  OF looked at me and said "she belongs to the church"

Being something of a doubting Thomas, I said "no she's do you know"?

"You can just tell"  BS said, adding "look at her hair, it looks like she went to a barber shop".

With that comment OF said "you can't really tell like that when they're horse people." Looking down at the frayed hem on my jeans and filthy boots I  was inclined to agree with OF.

Still BS insisted this woman belonged to her "church".  So then I find myself looking at women with crappy haircuts and wondering if they're all lesbians.  They couldn't all be lesbians just because they have a crappy haircut, could they?  Have I been surrounded by lesbians all my life and just never knew it?  Are they everywhere?  What about all those years of being taught not to judge a book by its cover?  Should I have just assumed that all women with short hair that looks like they chopped it off themselves, dressed in work clothes and boots belong to the "church"?  Or that all men with girly man voices and flitty hands who dress immaculately are gay?  Okay...if I'm being honest, I may have assumed it about the men...but probably not about the women.

On a side note, BS may be on to something about the hair...every time I get my hair cut really short, one of the Old Chix always says to me "I don't know why you do just makes you look like an old lesbian."  I don't know why I like her.

I wanted to ask the woman with the dog if she was a lesbian just to see if BS was right.  But really, how do you walk up to a stranger and ask something like that?  Guess I'll never know about barber shop chop lady.

OF said she's never sure how she should introduce LS to people...should she call her BS's partner...wife...what?  I'd probably wonder too.  What's the right thing to say?  Because in these politically correct days of easily offended masses it's hard to find something that won't offend someone.  I'm now worried that I'll slip up and call The Husband's car the Homobile in front of BS & LS.  I really like them both and wouldn't want to offend either one of them.  Would they even be offended?  I don't think BS would.  I think she'd think it was funny...not so sure about the Mighty Morphin though...she might want to analyze why I felt the need to name the car in a way that may be derogatory to certain persons.  Oh God, please don't let me slip and mention the Homobile around the lesbians.  Like Lucy, I'll have some 'splainin' to do.  (Remember Ricky & Lucy???...I Love Lucy???...get it???)  I hate having to be careful about what I say.  Maybe that's why I don't like being around strangers.  Yet another thing for me to worry about LS's the stoopidist thing.

I think OF should just introduce LS as her sister in law...problemo solved.

P.S.S.  Note to self...must remember to eliminate the term "lesbos" from vocabulary when lesbians are present.

Saturday, May 12, 2012

A Cause For Celebration

I need to mark this day on the calendar.  It's definitely a cause for celebration...maybe not for everyone, but for me, it's a day to shout "hallelujah".  I went in to the bathroom tonight and there was a new roll of toilet paper on the roller...unused...the end still glued down.  I'm still kind of in shock about the whole thing.  Hard to believe, I know, but this has never happened before.

So, what happened was, The Husband went to bed early and a little while later, I went in to the bathroom to pee.  Lo and behold, the new roll of toilet paper was placed on the roller...with the paper, still glued down, coming over the top of the roll like it's suppose to. I'm fairly certain this last part was an accident.  I couldn't even wait until after I peed before checking to see if The Husband was sick or something.

Not caring that he was sound asleep I threw open the bedroom door.

"Are you okay" I asked The Sleeping Husband loudly enough to rouse him...okay, I shouted...(he's a little hard of hearing which he refuses to admit...which is a whole other story).

"Yeah, why?" came the startled hindsight, I probably scared the old guy and made him think I noticed he'd stopped breathing or was having a seizure or something.

"Because" I said  "you put a new roll of toilet paper on the roller".

The Husband made sort of an unintelligible grunting noise from the bed in reply...he doesn't think I'm nearly as funny as I's the stoopidist thing..

P.S. Sadly, this is the sort of thing that I consider a highlight in my life....