But still, it's pretty cool......The PeepBR.
Saturday, March 9, 2013
And You Are Rewarded, My Fine Peeps
But still, it's pretty cool......The PeepBR.
Friday, March 8, 2013
A Peepview of Sorts
Extreme clandestine operations in house of Ho. It involves the purchasing of Peeps, the curing of said Peeps and the construction of a top secret scene to rival all. I had no idea a glue gun could be such a useful tool!
That's all I can say for now, because the secret has yet to be revealed.
That's all I can say for now, because the secret has yet to be revealed.
Friday, March 1, 2013
Or What?
I love the dreams that wake me up laughing. I had one of those the other night and it still makes me laugh.
I was with my sister at the hospital while she was giving birth. Mind you, this was surprising to me as it happened in about two minutes on a table and she got up (fully clothed) and handed the baby off to a nurse and we walked out the door to go home. We were walking through some woods and she said, "Oh, I better call Mike" (her husband).
She hung up and I thought to ask, "Was it a boy or girl?" She said, "Boy" and I asked, "What is his name?" She said, "Orr". I said, "Ore? Like a mining function?" "No, Orr, O-R-R. Isn't that cool?"
I had to think about it. Different, I'll give you that. Then I started to think about what would happen in 2nd grade and how his name could be terrible. "So, is it short for anything?" No, it's just Orr." This is when it got good.
"What if he is constantly asked his full name? Like, so, Orr, what is your full name?" She paused on our hike and said, "Well, maybe we'll make it Gregorr." "Well that's not much better," I said. People will say, "Greg or what?" "You know, like Sphincter says what?" She said, "What?" and of course I laughed. But this is not what woke me up. No, it wasn't that clever phrase. She said, "It will just be Orr." I said, "Than I shall call him Eeyore." She got all mad and said, "No! His name will be Igor, that's what it will be." "Okay, okay," I muttered, but I thought that was much worse. A little hunchback boy for a nephew, cool.
It then occurred to me what the real issue would be and I had to tell her: "When he is in 1st grade, learning how to spell his name and he hands in his work, you do realize that he will be signing it with his first name and last initial, right? Like when I would put Heidi C. on the top of my papers. You gotta think about that. He will be mortified later to know that his name is Orr G."
That's what woke me up.
I was with my sister at the hospital while she was giving birth. Mind you, this was surprising to me as it happened in about two minutes on a table and she got up (fully clothed) and handed the baby off to a nurse and we walked out the door to go home. We were walking through some woods and she said, "Oh, I better call Mike" (her husband).
She hung up and I thought to ask, "Was it a boy or girl?" She said, "Boy" and I asked, "What is his name?" She said, "Orr". I said, "Ore? Like a mining function?" "No, Orr, O-R-R. Isn't that cool?"
I had to think about it. Different, I'll give you that. Then I started to think about what would happen in 2nd grade and how his name could be terrible. "So, is it short for anything?" No, it's just Orr." This is when it got good.
"What if he is constantly asked his full name? Like, so, Orr, what is your full name?" She paused on our hike and said, "Well, maybe we'll make it Gregorr." "Well that's not much better," I said. People will say, "Greg or what?" "You know, like Sphincter says what?" She said, "What?" and of course I laughed. But this is not what woke me up. No, it wasn't that clever phrase. She said, "It will just be Orr." I said, "Than I shall call him Eeyore." She got all mad and said, "No! His name will be Igor, that's what it will be." "Okay, okay," I muttered, but I thought that was much worse. A little hunchback boy for a nephew, cool.
It then occurred to me what the real issue would be and I had to tell her: "When he is in 1st grade, learning how to spell his name and he hands in his work, you do realize that he will be signing it with his first name and last initial, right? Like when I would put Heidi C. on the top of my papers. You gotta think about that. He will be mortified later to know that his name is Orr G."
That's what woke me up.
Saturday, February 23, 2013
I Try To Spy With My Little Eye
 |
| I am ready and drugged, oh boy. |
The Colonel escorts me home and I feel well enough to do laundry, read email and Facebook and give the boys some lunch. I had read the literature carefully, and dust and wind was to be avoided at all costs, so look at me, wearing my onion goggles.
.JPG) |
| Clever girl |
Ever so dutiful, I applied the steroid drops, antibiotic drops and artificial tears as directed. The pain started about 4 PM. A grain of sand seemed as though it was stuck under the protective contact, so I tried to flush it out with the artificial tars. I tried the pain drops, which helped for about ten minutes.
Soon I felt small razorblades sticking in my eye. I looked in the mirror, but the light made it painful, too. I was ready for the big guns, so popped a Vicadin. An hour later, I was at half pain, but my lip and face felt great. The Colonel, with his Google MD, told me I could take another Vicadin, so I did. I now felt almost normal, but the caffeine kept me awake and goofy. It was late and I sure didn't want to continue the stabby eye thing, so I popped an Ambien and slept like the dead.
The razorblades woke me eight hours later and it got so bad that I won't even go into it except to say that I called the emergencyline and considered cutting out the offending eye, mismatched patches, here I come. Instead, hot and cold packs, regular pain drops and more Vicadin has saved me and the eye,
 |
| This is how I've felt all day. |
Saturday, January 19, 2013
Wicked Tuna
I've had too many "lady parts" stories lately that cannot be talked about. The theme of most say to me...."the Crotch Controls".
Girls rule the world. We all know this, even if the mens don't admit this. As an example: the Fiscal Cliff, that was such BIG NEWS until the end of the year, would have been completely avoided if you got a bunch of women together with a few bottles of wine. Oh, big budget you say? More milk, less meat, done. No big wood in the pants dance, no big face saving political posturing. Easy. Pay the frickin' bills already and stop spending or giving it away.
A friend of mine had Lady Parts surgery, thank god. That was one of the best procedures that a man could ever invent. I saw her husband last night. What does he say? "Nothing in the vagina for two months". As if that's a hardship. Doesn't he have two hands? Evidently not. Once again....the Crotch Controls. She is loving not having pain, blood, worry and the like. He is concerned about getting some business.
Another friend has been diagnosed with Stage 1 prostrate cancer. A problem and concern, to be sure. But really, this has been seen as a disease of normal aging, i.e., watch and see. Do you see any woman waiting and see about breast cancer? Yeah, not so much. I'm hoping we'll have the basic blood test (PSA) equivalent for women, too, some day.
So this all wraps up to a good joke I heard: George was out golfing with his buddies the other day. Normally a scratch golfer, he moaned when he missed yet another 6 inch putt. "Oh, my wife is putting out once a week now, it really effects my game." His buddy, Fred, said, "Yeah, you think that's bad; some of us have been cut out altogether."
The Crotch Controls.
Girls rule the world. We all know this, even if the mens don't admit this. As an example: the Fiscal Cliff, that was such BIG NEWS until the end of the year, would have been completely avoided if you got a bunch of women together with a few bottles of wine. Oh, big budget you say? More milk, less meat, done. No big wood in the pants dance, no big face saving political posturing. Easy. Pay the frickin' bills already and stop spending or giving it away.
A friend of mine had Lady Parts surgery, thank god. That was one of the best procedures that a man could ever invent. I saw her husband last night. What does he say? "Nothing in the vagina for two months". As if that's a hardship. Doesn't he have two hands? Evidently not. Once again....the Crotch Controls. She is loving not having pain, blood, worry and the like. He is concerned about getting some business.
Another friend has been diagnosed with Stage 1 prostrate cancer. A problem and concern, to be sure. But really, this has been seen as a disease of normal aging, i.e., watch and see. Do you see any woman waiting and see about breast cancer? Yeah, not so much. I'm hoping we'll have the basic blood test (PSA) equivalent for women, too, some day.
So this all wraps up to a good joke I heard: George was out golfing with his buddies the other day. Normally a scratch golfer, he moaned when he missed yet another 6 inch putt. "Oh, my wife is putting out once a week now, it really effects my game." His buddy, Fred, said, "Yeah, you think that's bad; some of us have been cut out altogether."
The Crotch Controls.
Wednesday, January 16, 2013
Dog Cog
When I say something to DogGus, he always has a delayed reaction. I can see the cogs turning, turning in his head and then, "Wait, I know what you said!" dawns on his face. This normally occurs with a game of Find It, Get It. Hedgehog, Polar Bear, Raccoon, Monkey Face and Boney are his toys to Find and Get.
"Going for a walk" brings instant recognition and much excitement, however. He will run to me, bounce up and down and grab my hand to pull me to the door. He barely stands still for the halter and leash and off we go.
If Bridle Trails is our walk, then there is much sniffing along the way and checking of pee-mail. I don't understand how dogs retain that much pee in order to mark spots. He looks at me intently sometimes as though to say, "Coyote wrote a bad word here", before jetting his reply. Then, there is the occasional sneaking of a road apple. What is it about horse poop? It's not like there is any meat in there, but they treat it like a big cheese covered meatball. Geesh.
Finding any dead animal is such a bonus. We have to immediately rub our face and whole body if I don't forcibly drag him away. Once, he found a dead salmon and even after washing him four times, he smelled just as bad.
Once we turn around to head for home, he drags his feet and walks as slow as he can to delay us. It doesn't matter if we've gone one mile or five, it's always the same. I can't walk that fast, I'm so tired. I've tried to trick him with "Squirrel", but that usually results in sitting down and looking at trees.
Wipe the paws off and he lumbers in to sleep on the couch. Snoring is the indication of a good walk.
"Going for a walk" brings instant recognition and much excitement, however. He will run to me, bounce up and down and grab my hand to pull me to the door. He barely stands still for the halter and leash and off we go.
If Bridle Trails is our walk, then there is much sniffing along the way and checking of pee-mail. I don't understand how dogs retain that much pee in order to mark spots. He looks at me intently sometimes as though to say, "Coyote wrote a bad word here", before jetting his reply. Then, there is the occasional sneaking of a road apple. What is it about horse poop? It's not like there is any meat in there, but they treat it like a big cheese covered meatball. Geesh.
Finding any dead animal is such a bonus. We have to immediately rub our face and whole body if I don't forcibly drag him away. Once, he found a dead salmon and even after washing him four times, he smelled just as bad.
Once we turn around to head for home, he drags his feet and walks as slow as he can to delay us. It doesn't matter if we've gone one mile or five, it's always the same. I can't walk that fast, I'm so tired. I've tried to trick him with "Squirrel", but that usually results in sitting down and looking at trees.
Wipe the paws off and he lumbers in to sleep on the couch. Snoring is the indication of a good walk.
Monday, January 7, 2013
Ponderences
EIGHT GAMES FOR GROWNUPS:
1. Be sexy all day. Toss your hair about and pout your mouth.
2. Mentally add, “your face” to everything someone says to you. “Paper or plastic?” I’ll paper your FACE.
3. Encourage everyone. It’s better out loud, but you can do it in your head if you want. Right on, random jogging dude! You’re jogging GREAT! Yeah, heavy things on the bottom—way to bag groceries! You’re bagging like it’s your job! Oh wait it is your job! Etc
.
4. For parents: if your child is being grumpy and argumentative, you can respond with “Well, that’s just, like, your opinion, man” and have a silent chuckle at her expense.
5. Casually say, “Oh hi, [pet’s name]” whenever your pet walks into the room. This never fails to amuse me.
6. Use exact change! You probably really do have thirty-two cents! So exciting.
7. Look out for danger. Speeding cars! Sudden sinkholes! That guy has a knife and a crazy look in his eye! Gas tank explosion (a cinematic mind’s-eye occurrence that has guaranteed me a lifetime terror of buying gas)! Hot lava!
8. Okay, this is not a game, but speaking of hot lava: it certainly does not figure into everyday adult life the way I imagined it would when I was a kid. Ditto quicksand.
FICTIONAL PLACE NAMES IN WHICH THE COLONEL AND I WANTED TO TRAVEL TO OR LIVE:
1. Mangled Scrotum National Park
2. Groinopolis (a city in the Nether Regions of Planet Area)
3. Crotchgrab, North Dakota
4. Danglysac, Arkansas
5. Butthole Corners
6. Sphincter Ridge
ONE UNCOMFORTABLE TRUTH:
It took FOREVER for me to turn 20 years old. I was a baby, and a kid, and a teenager, it lasted ages and ages, and although high school is a bit of a blur I remember quite a lot of my childhood. However, 30 years old to 50 years old is the exact same amount of time and it elapsed in a fucking flash. What was I doing at age 20-whatever? I have no idea unless I think really hard or dig around in the blog archives. If the trend holds, it means that 50 to 60 will go even faster, and imagining this gives me actual stomach flip-flops. Slow down, everything!
1. Be sexy all day. Toss your hair about and pout your mouth.
2. Mentally add, “your face” to everything someone says to you. “Paper or plastic?” I’ll paper your FACE.
3. Encourage everyone. It’s better out loud, but you can do it in your head if you want. Right on, random jogging dude! You’re jogging GREAT! Yeah, heavy things on the bottom—way to bag groceries! You’re bagging like it’s your job! Oh wait it is your job! Etc
.
4. For parents: if your child is being grumpy and argumentative, you can respond with “Well, that’s just, like, your opinion, man” and have a silent chuckle at her expense.
5. Casually say, “Oh hi, [pet’s name]” whenever your pet walks into the room. This never fails to amuse me.
6. Use exact change! You probably really do have thirty-two cents! So exciting.
7. Look out for danger. Speeding cars! Sudden sinkholes! That guy has a knife and a crazy look in his eye! Gas tank explosion (a cinematic mind’s-eye occurrence that has guaranteed me a lifetime terror of buying gas)! Hot lava!
8. Okay, this is not a game, but speaking of hot lava: it certainly does not figure into everyday adult life the way I imagined it would when I was a kid. Ditto quicksand.
FICTIONAL PLACE NAMES IN WHICH THE COLONEL AND I WANTED TO TRAVEL TO OR LIVE:
1. Mangled Scrotum National Park
2. Groinopolis (a city in the Nether Regions of Planet Area)
3. Crotchgrab, North Dakota
4. Danglysac, Arkansas
5. Butthole Corners
6. Sphincter Ridge
ONE UNCOMFORTABLE TRUTH:
It took FOREVER for me to turn 20 years old. I was a baby, and a kid, and a teenager, it lasted ages and ages, and although high school is a bit of a blur I remember quite a lot of my childhood. However, 30 years old to 50 years old is the exact same amount of time and it elapsed in a fucking flash. What was I doing at age 20-whatever? I have no idea unless I think really hard or dig around in the blog archives. If the trend holds, it means that 50 to 60 will go even faster, and imagining this gives me actual stomach flip-flops. Slow down, everything!
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