January 30, 2009
Hoo Loves You?
You guys? What the hell is this?
Why am I, like, completely unable to walk past a seasonally-themed aisle end-cap at Target?
And I would like to be able to make some "Hooters" joke here and tie-in some pretense about them making me think about boobies,... but I just can't. I can't! I can't lie to you, my darlings! Especially not this close to the day we celebrate our love for others!
I can't lie to my faithful readers!
What really drew me to these ridiculous trinkets is the fact that they are pink, large-eyed, retro owls. There I said it. It is their very ridiculousness that I can't resist. The fact that they serve no purpose whatsoever is what makes them so irresistable to me. They are the underdogs of an otherwise entire store-full of terribly necessary items!
Dog food! Vitamins! Coffe pots! Slippers! Batteries! All very necessary to purchase at least once in a while! But love-owl-themed novelties? Their uselessness makes them the underdogs of the Target world, and therefore, I was compelled to save them!
Underowls! Or something.
So I actually paid good money for these items, which serve no purpose but to amuse me and will probably end up gathering dust on my desk. I might put pens in the mug, to try to justify it's existance.
Thank God I wasn't with Heather or I would have ended up buying the matching placemats, oven mitts and candy dish.
Posted at 07:09 PM | Comments (2)January 27, 2009
In Lieu of Me Actually Writing Something
Ladies and gentlemen, I present... my mother.
These are actual emails from my biggest fan. The titles are her subject lines.
LET IT SNOW, LET IT SNOW, LET IT , Oh Shit. Who am I kidding?
January 9
Just a note to let you know that the old guy and I are keeping up with the snow. He yields a mean snow-thrower when the mood strikes him. We may ask your help if we get 8 inches.
Love, Mommie Dearest
P. S. Do they fine you if you use obscenities online? OOOOOOOps
"The old guy" is my father. She probably even calls him this to his face. Doesn't matter -- he's deaf.
I love the P.S. Does she really think I'd still have a house if there were fines for online obscenities?!
Wha Happened?
January 13
I just got 3 e-mails from Garrance that were meant to be on my FaceBook place. How did that happen? You know it doesn't take much to confuse me.
Love, Mommie
I have three words -- "my FaceBook place." BWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!
from your MOTHER
January 26
If you aren't going to blog on a regular basis, will you please let me know? I get so disappointed when I search for your ramblings and find nothing. This is a big letdown for me.
Did we regular readers do something to annoy you? Do you think we are not intelligent enough to comprehend all your writings? Please let me know if there's anything I can do to get you going again.
Love, You-Know-Who
Yep, my biggest fan.
See, Mom? This is what happens when you complain to the blogger -- YOU get to be the Guest Blogger!!! Mwah ha haaaaaa!
Posted at 05:37 PM | Comments (1)January 19, 2009
Nicknames
A snippet of a conversation between Heather and I, in which I reveal just how much of a skanky ho I used to be. Of course, now I'm completely faithful to Heather and Husband, but back then -- hoooo, boy!
Mom, none of this happened on your watch, don't worry. I had already moved into my own place, so don't blame yourself.
PW: OH! MY! GOD! My boyfriend from the 7th grade just sent me a friend request on Facebook. SEVENTH GRADE I shit you not
Heather: hilarious. I dont'even remember the names of the guys I "Dated" in jr high becuz we didn't do anything
PW: I know. I "dated" one all thru 7th, and one all thru 8th basically. on and off. and they were friends.
H: d'oh!
PW: he just joined fb today, and he's single, so CLEARLY he's looking up all this exes. and how pathetic that he went all the way back to jr. high. how totally fucking sad and pathetic
H: it hurts to think about it. seriously. what the hell?
PW: i know. I almost want to cry for him. and I want to find someone and go "HOly shit, John L. contacted me!" but I don't even know anyone I knew then
H: I have no idea who that is, exactly.
PW: there's no reason you should.
H: but then again, if I were single right now I wouldn't even want to contact anyone in high school!
PW: there are only 2 exes of mine (from a cast of 1000s) that I would actually look up
H: not me
PW: but I can't find them, which is just as well, because I would totally commit adultery with them
H: hee. who?
PW: Pat's cousin Tom. did you know him?
H: nope.
PW: big fat guy. total player. I WORSHIPPED him. Pat was so jealous
H: hee.
PW: he was all, "How come you fuck everyone I know and not me?" I had no idea how to answer that without crushing his will to live
H: because you're...You, scooter. you're YOU.
PW: I KNOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!! you are GENDERLESS!
H: tried to fuck scooter, but...no. nuthin. I wonder how jenn did it.
PW: did they do it? I thought her mom was so psycho that they had no opportunity?
H: no idea. i assumed.
PW: I worked with Jenn at Upscale Restaurant for a while. on her second day, I blanked on her name and said, "Hey, New Girl! Hand me a spoon!" Two years later, everyone was still calling her New Girl.
H: hee. new girl!
PW: even tho' several OTHER new girls were hired after her. some people didn't even know her real name.
H: hahahahahhahaa the power!
PW: I KNOW! I also nicknamed the manager Doug "Doogie." because when I did it the first time, he threatened me with violence if I ever did it again. which is basically BEGGING me to get everyone in the restaurant to call him that
H: oh, HUGE mistake to get mad at non-racist nicknames.
PW: in time, he grew to like it.
H: sucker.
PW: at Breakfast Restaurant, my first day, the manager didn't remember who he'd just hired, so when I walked in, he said, "Hi, Specks!" because I wear glasses. so it's funny.
H: I'd have said "HI, Tits!"
PW: I said, "Hi, Spud!" guess which nickname stuck?
H: spud!
PW: totally
H: i mean, seriously. eyes or tits, I'm going for the gold, no offense.
PW: "Tits" might have stuck, but he didn't have the guts.
Posted at 09:18 PM | Comments (2)January 16, 2009
Boobs Are a Many -Splendored Thing
When I first knew Heather, it was in high school. She's two years younger than me, and yet, I thought she was the coolest. She wore circle skirts and hats and would punctuate her naughty remarks with a coquettish wink. *swoon*
And I would always think, "People don't wink much anymore. Why is that? It's so adorable!"
Anyhoo, at the time, we were both lithe, little ponies. All over-sized sweaters and short hair and no boobs. But we were cute, in our own way, I guess.
So I was unprepared when we remet ten years ago, at the screening of a movie made by an old mutual friend, and here's this long-haired, curvacious woman in front of me. With boobies!
We squealed and hugged... and then Heather goes, "That was fun! Let's do it again!" So we hugged again, and all the men in the room sat down. I don't know what that was about.
Flashforward a decade. I get into work, check my emails, update my Facebook, sign onto Meebo, read me some Pamie, wait for Heather to show up on AOL I.M.
PW: Heather!!!!!!!!!!! I hate it when you're Away.
Heather: watching Activating Robin
PW: YAY! that's what I was going to tell you to watch! she DOESNT like smashing boobies? what's wrong with her????????? that's the best thing about girly hugs!
H: it was the moment we fell back in love, when our boobs met. seriously. I remember that hug like it was my first prom.
PW: exactly! me, too! hee! the night my boobs were deflowered by yours and finally understood what love means
H: it's like a song.
PW: you are the wind beneath my boobs!
H: you complete my boobs! (yes, my coworker totally read that line over my shoulder. awesome)
Posted at 12:54 PM | Comments (1)January 14, 2009
So Long
A few months back, I had to part with the best department a temp ever had. There were hugs and presents and pasta dishes.
You know how you have a job, and you're like, "Aw, man, this job would be great... if so-and-so weren't such and utter and incurable seeping bag of vomit!"
Well, that job didn't have any vomit bags, puke sacks, or even bile totes. It was completely spew-free. I loved them, they loved me. If great sex was a job, it was that job.
So when I left, I was presented with a gorgeous necklace. A pink pearl on a silver chain. Waaaaaaaaay better than I deserve, perhaps...
I also got The Obligatory Card That Everyone In The Department Signed. Only there was nothing compulsory about the notes inside. "You are a joy to work with!" "We will truly miss you!" "Please come back and visit us!"
And then there was the inscription from Chris:
"Thanks for the baked goods and sarcasm."
Suddenly, I'm Wenchie's Guide to the Galaxy. "So long, and thanks for all the sarcasm."
Warms the cockles of my heart. I think I've found my epitaph.
Pirate Wench
1969 - 2049
We will miss her cakes and sarcasm.
Awww, I'll miss you most of all, ScareChris.
Posted at 08:40 PM | Comments (1)Such a Pill
Stella -- my 2-1/2 year old black lab with the puppy face and huge feet and runty legs and weirdly-short tail -- has a chronic infection in her ears. It's not uncommon with long-eared dogs, but it's getting expensive. Not to mention, I have to clean brown crap outta her ears every night. Ewwwwwwwwwwwwww! It's technically a yeast infection, but I try really, really hard not to think about that.
I also have to give Stella a tiny pill twice a day. With Daisy, I can just throw it in her food bowl, and she'll snarf it down. She's a retard. Stella is a bit harder to fool (surprising, I know), and she's tiring of my methods.
PW: Stella! Come!
Stella: [mosies into the kitchen] What.
PW: Whatsa matter with you? You usually come running when you hear me opening the peanut butter jar.
Daisy: I came running, Mom! Mom? I came running! Do I get peanut butter?
Stella: I'm kinda over the peanut butter.
PW: I see. Well, how about some cheese?
Stella: What kind?
Daisy: I like cheese!
PW: American.
Stella: The kind that comes hermetically sealed in individual sheets of plastic?
PW: Well,... yeah.
Stella: What else ya got?
Daisy: I like American cheese!
PW: Muester.
Stella: Monster?! Are you trying to kill me?!
Daisy: Idiot! We could've had cheese!
PW: [sigh] I have vanilla yogurt?
Stella: Didn't I smell some taco meat in the fridge this morning?
Daisy: I like vanilla yogurt!
PW: Vanilla. Yogurt.
Stella: Yogurt it is!
PW: [scoops some yogurt, hides the pill]
Daisy: Did I hear you talking about taco meat...?
Stella: [eats the yogurt]
PW: You don't even need a pill, so be grateful you're getting anything at all!
Stella: [licking her lips] Pill...?
Posted at 11:05 AM | Comments (0)January 09, 2009
Sidekick
I have decided that I am now famous enough that I warrent a sidekick. A Thelma to my Louise. A marshmallow fluff to my peanut butter. A bottle of KY warming solution to my lonely Thursday night.
But before I reveal to you my methodical search technique, I must define a term that was used during negotiations: lunchmeat.
Heather is in the, um, adult entertainment industry. No, she's not a porn star. (Anymore.) She a web designer. Her day involves lots of photos of naked and semi-naked women.
Now... there are women whose labia are neatly tucked up against their va-jay-jays. And then there are the women whose labia hang down like billowing curtains of roast beef. Hence, lunchmeat.
(I can't believe my mother is going to have to read the word labia. TWICE. Sorry, Mom! I'll pay you back on Mother's Day!)
Anyhoo, when I signed onto AOL, there was an Away message where Heather should have been.
PW: Away?! How can you be away when I NEED you?! You're so selfish!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
H: Wenchie!!! just got out of the longest meeting in the known universe.
PW: wow. did you have to bend the time-space continuum?
H: basically, yes.
PW: neato. so I've decided that you need to be my sidekick. on my blog. because Pamie has a sidekick named Dan who blogs on her site and blogs ABOUT HER, which is what makes him a sidekick. except that I wouldn't call you a sidekick
H: I'll kick your side, if that's what you need!
PW: no! I need a flying monkey! or a foundation garment -- I haven't decided which to call you, yet
H: heeee.
PW: what was your meeting about, and how many times did "lunchmeat" come up?
H: learning fatwire, which I am just about to go into another meeting to learn more. absolutely no lunch mentioned.
PW: fuckers! it's 3:00! how are you supposed to function???????????? and seriously, training on New Year's Eve? your company hates you
H: dude. I have to be here until I am done. which may be never...
PW: but enough about you. I need a sidekick
H: I am in.
PW: I knew I could count on you
H: you had me at kick
PW: I had you at lunchmeat. speaking of which -- GO EAT!
H: going.
See, that's what's awesome about Heather. She will devote the only two spare minutes she has in her busy, corporate day to catering to my petty desires. Oh, I know she'll never actually post on this blog -- she doesn't post on her own blog! But she humors me, and I appreciate that.
Posted at 08:46 AM | Comments (0)January 07, 2009
Her Name Was Lola
I was toying with the idea of giving Barbie her own Facebook page, with updates and photos and everything. But there are already at least 4 people who have done that already. JERKS!
I mean, I'm sure MY Barbara Millicent Roberts Facebook page would be the COOLEST Barbie page of all, but I hate the thought that it's not original.
But I still like the concept. So I looked around my office.
Holly Hobbie page? She only has one outfit, and she's just not very interesting. Although she's easily portable in one's purse, which plays in her favor.
Ginny? Nah. Who besides old people, me and Joe know who Ginny is?
Orange Dala Horse? Storybook dolls? Wooden soldier? Raggedy Anne?
Hmmm, Raggedy Anne... I don't know. She was my Mom's, and I'd be so scared something would happen to her.
Gene Marshall page? Probably already out there. Also? She's annoying as hell to redress.
Tiny Kitty Collier? Too expensive, only one outfit (so far).
Christmas moose? Teddy bear? Honey Hill Bunch kids?
My God, I have a lot of gay stuff.
Okay, Honey Hill Bunch kids have appeal. They're portable, there are several kids, which provides versatility, and I have two of each, so if one gets eaten by a bear -- who cares!
(Okay, you guys? As I was copying and pasting the URLs for the Honey Hill Bunch links, I had a HUGE sense of deja vu. I have never felt like more of a loser. Who in the WORLD has reason to TWICE link to the Honey Hill Bunch?!?!)
I also have other random Barbie-scale oddities that could make appearances with them. Like Joey from "Blossom," Barbie's afghan hound (seriously) and The Sunshine Family.
Dare I?
Oh my God, the more I look around my house for possibilities, the more I wonder why the hell Husband puts up with me, and why no one has had me committed.
In my defense, this trio belonged to my Gramma O.
Hee! Goat! See the little troll on the right? He used to live at Billi's house, but she had to give him to me because The Boy Child is petrified of him. In fact, when he comes to my house, he has to watch me lock the troll in my car before he can feel entirely safe.
Or, since I'm being a huge dorkus, should I stick with something run-of-the-mill like my Beanie Baby puppies?
Of course, there's also my Lola Monster. I GUARANTEE that there's no other Lola Monster out there.
What do you guys think? And I'm looking for an answer other than, "I think you have too much damn time on your hands, you freak."
You know, the more I look at the goat, he's really photogenic...
Posted at 09:13 AM | Comments (1)January 05, 2009
Bacon, Chocolate & Cheese
On one of our many trips up over the Wisconsin border, this particular time to attend the Log & Timber Home Show, we decided to stop for a special meal. So Husband and I, PJ and Ramone, and Egrau and J went to Lamb's Farm for breakfast at the Country Inn Restaurant.
I believe I had the Apple Cinnamon French Toast and split an order of Biscuits & Gravy with PJ. What? Apples are fruit!
Ramone, wanting a breakfast untainted by fruit, selected "The Heartland Skillet." Awwwww, doesn't that sound nice? Brings about images of amber waves of grain, smiling children and strapping farm hands. And it has the word heart right in it -- it has to be good for you. Right?
Right???
Let me read to you from the menu:
Ham, bacon, sausage, mushrooms,peppers and onions blended with country hash browns and served with two eggs any style.
Oh my fucking gawd. Ham, bacon AND sausage! I'm short of breath just typing this!
I can hardly bring myself to tell you the rest. Yes, the rest.
People...
He ordered a side of bacon to go with it.
It's the big one, 'Liz'beth! I'm comin' to join ya!
So it was no surprise that Ramone later had to excuse himself from admiring giant logs for an extended stay in the bathroom. Not that I don't admire the man for following his bacon dreams, but I was laughing my ass off. I mean, come ON! BACON with a side of BACON. Even I can do that math!
Now, I've told you this to illustrate that there is a culture of gluttonly that is pervasive in my social life. When I get together with friends and/or family, we don't go play touch football or walk the dogs or whatever it is that skinny people do for fun. We EAT. And then we sit. For a long time.
I'm going to turn 40 in less than 300 days, and I feel like, if I don't do something soon, I'm never going to be able to climb two flights of stairs without dry-heaving and praying for death's sweet release.
Yes, I've succumbed to the cliche -- I've made a New Year's Resolution to eat better and get in shape. I feel so plebian. BUT!
Before that, Husband and I spent New Year's Eve and Day gorging ourselves on all our favorite foods, as a little good-bye ceremony. In preparation, I went to the Jewel and bought:
Bob Evans Sausage Biscuits
Cheddar E-Z-Cheez
Stouffer's Macaroni & Cheese
Stouffer's Spinach Soufflee
Jewel Rice Pudding
Swedish Fish
Starbuck's Vanilla Frappuccinos
Reese's Puffs Cereal
Cocoa Krispies Cereal
Dean's Egg Nog
Hostess Ho Hos
Riesen Chewy Chocolate Caramels
Jewel Fat Free Skim Milk
Tums
I have neither exaggerated nor understated the contents of my shopping cart. Yes, the skim milk was to wash down the Ho-Hos. Yes, I really got Tums, at Husband's request.
I was so embarassed, I went to the self check-out line. I was really hurrying and looking around to see if anyone was staring at and judging me. So when the little attendant snuck up behind me and asked, "Did you remember to scan your Preferred Card?" I almost jumped outta my skin.
But then I saw a young woman in leggings and fuck-me boots accentuating her gravity-defying ass, at the lottery vending machine buying scratch-off tickets. And I thought, "Well, my butt may be cushiony, but at least I'm not stupid enough to waste my money on scratch-off tickets."
I left Jewel with my booty -- and my booty -- feeling quite superior. So I rewarded myself with a Ho-Ho on the way home.
Posted at 10:52 AM | Comments (1)January 02, 2009
There's Something Sweet and Almost Kind
Here's a little game I like to play called...
Have You Been Paying Attention?
It goes like this:
Once upon a time, Sue texted me from Michael's -- what is husbands fav disney movie?
A couple weeks later, Husband and I opened our Christmas presents from her. Guess which belongs to whom.
"Little town,
It's a quiet village.
Ev'ry day
Like the one before.
Little town,
full of little people,
waking up to say...
Drink up, me hearties, yo-ho!"
Yeah, that's right. Husband gets all twitter-pated for Belle. His birthday is in February, and I swear to God, I'm getting him a Belle pillowcase. He'll love it.
Posted at 08:47 AM | Comments (1)