Grrrrr......

Ok.... I was about to post a bulletin to let you know you should never to buy Kleenex brand tissues because when you go to blow your nose, they disappear mid-honk.

After that I was going to post an APB for my AWOL hair scrunchies. (I was gonna have them court marshalled.)

But they were all found yesterday. They were being held as POWs in a large camp behind "Fort Easy Chair" in a town called "Living Room."

They were all rescued (tissues and scrunchies alike) and their captor, Oliver Bartholomeow Tumblecat, has been taken into custody.

Just an FYI

Pinky and The Brain

I give you Pinky. 'Drunken Stuper' Pinky.

My bestest friend.

Let's Try This Again

Sarah correctly answered the last riddle I posted within hours of posting it. It took 2 days for the answer to that one to come to me.

Let's try this one...


My posterior is adorned with feathers. I have a rather long neck and quite a pointy nose. I am able to fly, yet I have no wings.

What am I?

A Riddle

I am greater than God, more evil than the Devil.

Rich people need me, poor people have me.

If you eat me, you'll die.

What am I?

The Dress

Lori and Sarah went bridesmaid dress shopping last week. They finally found the right color on a dress that's pleasing to the eyes. It's not easy to find that blue unless your intent is to showcase your boobage or blind everyone in the room with enough sequins that people mistake you for a giant royal blue disco ball.



Pretty, huh?

This is a better view, trust me. It's a lot less lumpy on the hanger rather than wrapped around my pudge. I have work to do. I'm not going to tell you what size it is, I'm just going to tell you that I had trouble zipping it up. Sigh. I have until April to get into it comfortably.

Bridesmaid's dresses are taken care of, tuxes have been handled... now we have to work on what the bride is wearing.

That said, I'm going to go stare at a treadmill.

Ollie says...

uihjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjeyulk;hyujgft vlo, ;c hnjzxl

lk nxc 7 999999999999999999999900bgffvg

I was going to tell you about the dress I'm wearing at my sister's wedding.

I guess Ollie decided what was on his mind was much more important.

....and here he comes again....

hjgfiuooooooooooogbtrfe4w3q22222222222kjgfr4r5io8787klhjlkighyt hyu n bbv

Sincerely,

Oliver

HAPPY THANKSGIVING!

WHAT THE....?!?!

I have a tattoo that I'm thinking I want to have removed. It's nothing bad, nothing obscene... I'm just over it. When I started looking into the (legitimate) removal process online just to get a general idea of what it involves I never thought I would come across this.

You've got to be kidding me! Who would do this?!?!

I especially like the bit about the rubber dowel included for you to bite because "this process can be a bit painful."

Ya think?!?! Thanks for lookin' out, Captain Obvious.

What about the warnings at the bottom of the page?!?!

Would you iron a 5 year old's shirt after he put it on?
I guess that means it's ok to use on your seven year old that just had to have the Iron Maiden tattoo for his birthday last year?

Side effects include 2nd degree burns.

Really?!?! Who woulda thunk it?

"A small percentage of test subjects (squirrels) experienced complete loss of libido, severe psoriasis, halitosis and alopecia"

There are so many things wrong with that statement I don't even know where to start. Did you run this past PETA? Just curious.... how do you know a squirrel has halitosis?

I guess something should smell pleasant to try to cover up the smell of burning flesh. And really.... if you find yourself with an uncontrollable urge to eat the cream, it's probably not as bad as the paint chips and paste I'm guessing you chowed on as a kid.

Bon Apetit!

Freaks.

While We're On The Subject

My sister was down visiting and, since we're such wonderful children, we were cleaning my mom's kitchen. She was washing dishes and I was hard at work eating birthday cake. (Hey, it's not easy being a human garbage disposal.) She turned around to say something to me and stopped short, stared at me for a second and then busted out laughing like crazy. Something was ridiculously funny. I don't know if it was that she didn't want to tell me or was just laughing so hard she couldn't, but I thought she was losing it. When I made it to the bathroom mirror I saw what was so amusing - a lump of blue icing hangin' out on the end of my nose. I guess I just have a gift for displaying my food on my face. Sigh.

What Are Friends For?

You're at a cookout with a girlfriend of 5 years. You've seen each other at your worst. She likes her hot dogs burned. Black. After she finishes her hot dog, every tooth in her head is solid jet black thanks to the charred hot dog.

You have a choice. You can either:

A) Tell her about it and save her from total humiliation, or

B) Say nothing and allow her to smile like a jackass at that really hot single guy that showed up every time he walks by for the next two hours until you get in the car to leave.

What do you do?

If you picked A, you're a good friend. If you picked B, you're Jessica.

Thanks, man. I'll remember that next time the broccoli you ate for lunch reaches out to touch someone.

The M-ism

I definately know one. Some days I want to give this person a Juicy Juice box and sit down with flash cards. 50-something years old, just as cocky as cocky gets, and knows everything about anything someone else is talking about, especially when the conversation is absolutely none of their business. One of those people that thinks they're so wonderfully intelligent when in all actuality, to say they have the mental capacity of a lawn gnome would be giving them too much credit.

Long story short, I am this particular individual's biggest fan.

I try not to let people get to me but because I have no choice but to spend a significant amount of time in this person's company, I have chosen to be the adult in this situation and tease this person behind their back.

HA! Chew on that!

I call the bad grammar, made up words, and completely senseless statements 'M-isms'. They are ridiculously funny. Just ask my sister (she's gettin' hitched, check it out). I share them with her all the time. We get a kick out of it. When I come upon new ones I'll post them so you can share in my 'adult' behavior. ~grin~

M-ism #1 - In a note posted for the cleaning company - "Please vacume."

Hey.... Webster..... got a minute?

Oliver Bartholomeow Tumblecat

Yeah yeah. I know. Retarded name for a cat. Gimme a break.

Oliver: I just really like that name.


Bartholomeow: Come on! It has 'meow' at the end!


Tumblecat: He used to tumble down the stairs when he was a wee widdle kitten.

My Ollie-B

I figured I would introduce you. He's my baby, he's absolutely spoiled, and he's also the reason I'm about to fall out drooling on my keyboard. All he wanted to do last night was play. There would be no sleeping for mom. He was attacking my feet, attacking my hair, burrowing under the covers like a mole on speed, anything to get me to play. I did my best to ignore him. Until about 3am. --CRASH!-- I'M UP! ...I'm up. Damnit. He pushed the alarm clock off the nightstand. I got up, chased him around the room until he hid in the boxspring and I finally gave up. Did I frighten him into quiet? Nope. 5am - bite on the nose. Not a little nibble either. That little joker bit me hard and ran. Wuss. He was gone again though. Good. I start dozing off again and then.... Nascar in my bedroom. He was doing laps around the room, banking the turns! 6:45 the alarm clock goes off. This time I knock it into the floor and get up. What's Ollie doing now you ask? Curled up fast asleep on my - excuse me - his pillow.

Bastard.

I wonder if anyone would notice if I hid under my desk for a quick power nap?

Quote Of The Day

Never meddle in the affairs of dragons, for you are crunchy and taste good with ketchup.

-Unknown

illustration from draconika.com

Drunken Stuper Causes Blog Title

Ok so you're probably wondering about the vodka thing. Well here's the deal. A good friend and I were out drinkin' on a Friday night (you probably guessed that much) and I was playing designated driver. I had a couple beers, he was drinking Goose on the rocks. LOTS of it. 3am rolls around, I get him stuffed (at this point shirtless and shoeless) into the passenger seat and we're on our way with him singing the Pinky and The Brain theme song repeatedly. Aside from the fact that he was way off key and my radio was broken, all in all it was a great night. Then - WHAMO! - blue lights in the rearview. 'Pinky' over there in the passenger seat was hard to miss. He was asked to step out of the car and did so with a bit of an attitude. Arms crossed, leaning on my fender he glares at this nice police officer. "Have you been drinking tonight, Sir?" Leaning forward, right in the officer's face, he delivers his reply... "Nope. And you can't prove it 'cause you can't smell vodka."

Smooth, man. Smooth.

I'm just glad this guy had a sense of humor. He turned to face away from Pinky (you never want to encourage a child behaving badly) and busted out laughing. I rolled.