Perplexing

I own the above t-shirt. I had someone ask me, "Understand what?"

I'm not sure if the person has no sense of humor, is dumber than a bags of rocks, or was complimenting me.

Just Another Conversation

The other day we got a promo mailing from a local car dealership.  They are holding a contest of sorts and this is the way it works:  They sent a key with the mailing and during certain hours and days, you are to take the key into the dealership and try to see if it will start the vehicle they are giving away.  The vehicle in question is a brand new Toyota truck.  K was looking at the mailing and the following conversation took place:

K (more to himself than anything):  Hmmm.  I suppose I should go in on my days off and see if this key fits.  Although, I just bought a truck and don't really need a new one.  And I really don't think I would ever drive a Toyota.  (We buy 'American' vehicles.)  

--He is VERY optimistic and approaches any kind of contest, lottery, raffle, sweepstakes, etc, as if he WILL be a big winner.--

Me:  Well, if you won the thing, we always could sell it and use the money for something else!
K:  Or we could give it to (oldest granddaughter) for her first vehicle--she will be getting her license soon.
Me:  Really, I don't think THAT is a precedent I want to set.  We do have SEVEN grandchildren, after all.
K:  Okay, but when (second granddaughter) gets her license, we can just tell her it is hers, then, and keep going down the line.
Me:  Fine, but what do we do for (last grandchild--number 7)?  Give her a roll of duct tape and say 'Happy Driving'?
K:  Or we could just tell her 'It's a CLASSIC!'

Yeah, the man is quick on his feet.  :D

Thank Goodness For Trust...

The other day, K and I had this conversation:

K:  So-and-so--you remember him, he retired last year--and his wife just got a divorce.
Me:  Really!?!?!?
K:  Yeah.  They were married all those years and divorced after he retired.
Me:  Maybe she couldn't handle his being around all of the time.  {said with a smile}
K:  Rumor has it that there was more going on.  She supposedly started running around on him.
Me:  Well, I think it probably wouldn't be considered a mid-life crisis--she would have needed to do that 15, 20 years ago.
K:  What would possess someone to start that after so many years?
Me:  Well, how does he KNOW that she JUST started running around?  If he worked shifts, it would have been very easy for her to be meeting someone while he was on night shift, for example.
K:  That is true...

Tonight, at 11:00, the phone rang.  I was in the bathroom WITHOUT a phone.  I didn't get to the phone in time to answer it.  Caller ID told me that it was K, who is on night shift.  Thank goodness we trust each other completely.  Otherwise I might be doing some 'splaining in the morning.  :D

Just For Laughs

Some amusement for a Thursday afternoon:

A Little LOL...

I have documented my hearing struggles several times on this blog.  K, on the other hand, doesn't have any (much) hearing loss.  This is quite surprising, considering his father wore a hearing aid and the noisy places K has worked over the years.  One thing he has been SO good about, is using hearing protection--something that he is FANATICAL about.  Even when he mows the lawn or uses the snow blower, he will wear ear plugs.  I never felt the need for ear plugs and I'm sure that is part of my problem.  However, despite K's good hearing, we DO have many conversations like this:

(click on the image to read the entire thing)

Is Someone Watching Me?

The other day I was reading some comics online and came across this:

I couldn't help but wonder who is spying on me.  Remember this post?  :D

If we can't laugh at ourselves, we'd spend all of our time crying, right?

Consequences

(This one's for you, Leazwell.  ;))

via http://www.ironaccents.com/52-18383.html

You CAN'T Make This Stuff Up

This did NOT happen here, but I found the story in our local newspaper.  I will put up the story with no comments--and you can come up with your own jokes.  ;)

NEW CASTLE, Pa. (AP)--A 50-foot-long bridge in western Pennsylvania has been stolen, and its owners say they're baffled by the crime and have no idea who took it.

New Castle Development spokesman Gary Bruce said Friday that he "couldn't believe it when they told me it was gone."

A state police report says the 20-foot-wide span in North Beaver Township went missing between Sept. 27 and Wednesday. 

You can find a little more on this story here.

 

 

 

Good Drivers

Way before there were driver ed classes, people were taught to drive by other drivers.  Here in this part of the country, it wasn't a bad deal, as there are plenty of country roads--read that as 'not busy'--that can be used for driving practice.  While I DID take driver ed in high school, I didn't get my license until after getting married--K kind of forced me into it.  (Actually, he told me he wouldn't pay for the insurance on a car that wasn't used, so I got my license rather than letting the car sit.)  I did most of my practice driving on the country roads and it worked out well.  I remember The Mother practicing when I was very young, as she needed to drive when The Father went into the hospital for that year.  And not too much before that, my paternal grandmother learned to drive.  And that is the story...

My grandfather died before I was born and my grandmother remarried several years later.  Her second husband taught her to drive.  One day, The Mother was riding with Grandma through our little town.  The Mother wasn't too comfortable riding with Grandma, as she wasn't the best driver.  Rather than taking the highway back to The Parents' house, Grandma took the other 'main' road which had numerous stop signs on it.  As Grandma drove straight through EVERY stop sign, The Mother saw her life pass before her eyes--she was SURE that she would never make it home alive.  After the two of them finally made it to the house, The Mother asked Grandma why she didn't stop at the stop signs.  Grandma answered, "[Her husband] said good drivers don't NEED to stop at stop signs."

And my grandmother drove for 20+ years after that--and never had an accident.  I guess she WAS a good driver.  :D

Like Glitter?

The Youngest and her husband were here for a long weekend the beginning of July.  Before they came here, they spent a day and a half with The Oldest and her family.  After they left to come here, my 2-year-old granddaughter was talking about Auntie A and Uncle A to her mom.  "Mom,"  she said.  "I miss Auntie A--she is so pretty and she sparkles!"  We still aren't sure what 'sparkles,' but it's nice to know she's loved.  :D

Who Can Hate Summer?

There is a reason why I won't wear a swimsuit--and I have pictures:

Hope your week is good!  :D

Not Always Right

I found this story on the site Not Always Right--and it made me laugh.  Hope you enjoy.

(I have albinism, so I have very pale skin, white hair, and red irises.)
Me: “Hi. What can I get for you?”
Customer: “Are…are you a vampire?”
Me: “Well, my dad is half-vampire.” *laughing*
Customer: “Please, don’t bite me.”
Me: “Ma’am, I’m not going to bite you.”
Customer: “Don’t put any blood in my food either. I don’t want to be a vampire.”
Me: “Ma’am, I’m not going to put blood in your food. I’m not a vampire. We serve regular food here.”
Customer: “Let me speak to your manager.”
(I go and get my manager, and fill him in on what’s going on.)
Customer, to my manager: “Is your vampire waitress going to bite me?”
Manager: “Only if you don’t tip her well.”
(The woman looks completely horrified, but finally ends up ordering and leaving me a 21% tip.)

How can people be so damn stupid?

Adventures With Wildlife

I would never go into a court of law and SWEAR everything happened exactly the way I am saying it did, but this is how I remember the events...

Last night I had to go out to buy a new coffee maker.  When I woke up yesterday, I poured the water into the Bunn, as usual, but all I got was light-brown colored cold water instead of coffee for my efforts.  To say I wasn't pleased, is putting it mildly.  And I knew I had to go out shopping.

K is on night shift, so I waited until he went to work before getting myself ready to go out.  After putting myself together--which is a job in itself--I finally was ready to leave the house.  Just before I open the storm door to leave, I ALWAYS look out the window to see if there is anything sitting on the porch that might impede my exit.  I could have seen the neighbor's dog looking for a hand-out, a raccoon scouting for garbage, a bear checking out the bird feeders, or any number of other scenarios.  What I DID see in the middle of the porch, was a chipmunk.  Because our chipmunks are so tame, I refuse to open the door with one anywhere close by--I'm too afraid it will come into the house.  And we don't want THAT to happen again.  The chipmunk looked up and we glared at each other for a nano-second.  He KNEW I wanted him gone, but I could see the look in his eye that said, "In your dreams, lady."  Being much, much bigger than the chipmunk, I figured I could scare him off of the porch.  Yeah, right.  To try to get him to move, I decided to make some noise.  After I yelled at him, he laughed.  I stomped my foot and he stuck his tongue out at me.  I banged on the door hard enough to break my hand and he gave me the finger.  Finally, he sat up, looked at me as if to say, "I leave when I want leave," and s-l-o-w-l-y moved to the edge of the porch and jumped down to the ground.  The last I saw of him, he was going into the entrance to his den that is right next to our sidewalk.  I distinctly heard a maniacal cackle as he went underground--and I believe I heard him say, "I'll be back."  It's going to be a long, long summer.

Selling Snow to Eskimos

PT Barnum has been credited--erroneously, it seems--with saying 'There's a sucker born every minute.'  I will take that one step further and say that there is at least one customer for ANYTHING that someone wants to sell.  If you don't believe me, look at Craigslist or Etsy--OR have a garage sale.

I have had a few garage sales in my time, but not enough to consider myself an expert, by any means.  BUT, when I say that people will buy ANYTHING, I mean that literally.  Not only have I sold books and audio tapes and VHS tapes and household goods, but I have actually sold bottles of spices that were half-full.  Yes, people will buy used spices.  I haven't tried to sell used bars of soap, but I may the next time I have a sale.  I'm sure someone will buy them.

So, with the idea that people will buy anything, I have come up with a product that will probably make millions:  hypoallergenic, fragrance-free perfume.  I know, I know, you laugh.  But think about all of the people you have ever known.  You done?  Now, defy me by NOT finding one person who would think this is a good idea.  We ALL know that one person who is so ditzy that she would buy this product by the gallon.  And if each one of us can think of one person that would buy this perfume, I KNOW I could make millions of dollars selling it.  :D

Funny...Or Not?

In many instances, I have a very black, warped, macabre sense of humor.  My favorite comic of all time is/was Gary Larson's 'Far Side'--strange creatures doing weird things.  Hysterical.  Since Larson gave up writing his comic, there has been a black hole in my life that hasn't been filled--until now.  'Bunny Suicides' has filled that hole.

'Bunny Suicides' is all about rabbits trying--or succeeding--to kill themselves.  And the methods they use are quite funny.  Many of them have a very Rube Goldberg feel to them.  While some of the strips are cringe-worthy--really, who wants to see a cute little bunny have his head chopped off--most of them have me chuckling hysterically.  The 'Bunny Suicides' calendar is now the one I get for my kitchen every year.  Yes, I'm sick.

Here are a few of the strips:

 

So, I ask again, are these funny...or not?


*For more, you can go here.

This Would Make ANYONE Go Postal!

Jen left a comment on yesterday's post and it reminded me of my favorite chipmunk story--and when I searched this blog, I didn't find it.  I'm amazed that I never wrote this down, so here goes:

I have talked a lot about the critters we have in our yard--AND house--and what has caused some of the most frustration for me is the chipmunks.  When we first moved to this house, we thought it was cute to feed the buggers.  And they became so tame that they would climb into your lap to be hand fed.  The Oldest was just a toddler at the time, so I figured THAT wasn't a good thing and we stopped the feedings.  Of course--as I said in the last post--they just helped themselves from the bird feeders, so they reproduced like crazy.  You know those nature shows that have prairie dogs in them? Where you see their little heads popping out of the holes? That's pretty much what our backyard is like, only with chipmunks.  And, of course, they get in the house and eat our gardens.  They drive us crazy and have done so for far too many years.


One day when The Youngest was still at home, she had had enough of the chipmunks.  All summer long the feeders had to be filled daily, the birds weren't coming to the feeders hardly at all, and the chipmunks were LAUGHING at us whenever we 'shooed' them.  After a day of yelling, banging on the window, and doing whatever else she could think of to scare the critters, The Youngest decided to start throwing things at the little rodent.  The chipmunk DUCKED when she threw things at it and went right back to filling its pouches with sunflower seed.  The more the chipmunk defied her, the more incensed The Youngest became.  Finally, with her face as red as Santa's suit, she screamed, "I AM going to get that thing!" and went running out the door with the spray bottle full of water.  She got within two feet of the chipmunk and, like a gunslinger from the Old West, pulled out the bottle, aimed, and fired directly in the chipmunk's face/body.  (They are small, so the spray went everywhere.)  I watched from the breakfast nook window, so I can swear this is the truth:  Instead of running away from the water, the chipmunk sat up and raised it's arm and started cleaning its pits.  Yes, she gave him a much-needed shower instead of scaring him off.  To say The Youngest was thisclose to going postal, is putting it mildly.  I thought the poor thing was going to have a stroke, she was so mad.  And I laughed until I peed myself.  :D


That would be my favorite chipmunk story.

Passive Aggressivity At Its Best

In the (almost) 18 years that we have had our cat, we've been very lucky.  Some people with animals are constantly trying to stop bad behaviors or make multiple trips to the vet's because of illness.  Our cat has only been sick twice and, for the most part, her behavior is quite acceptable.  Of course, she is the 'typical' feline:  She believes this house is HERS and she allows US to live here.  But, other than that, she has always been more of just a presence in the house than anything.  Cats' independent nature is why I prefer them as pets above other animals.  And our cat has been a pretty perfect example of that.  However, she has learned new tricks as she has gotten older.

When we got our new furniture and I did the pre-Christmas cleaning in December, I moved furniture around in some rooms.  Our upstairs bedroom is where the cat has found sanctuary for many, many years--a place she has preferred to be, as she doesn't really like people.  Because I moved the bed up there, her favorite place to sleep was no longer--she liked to sleep under the bed with her back pressed up to the heat run.  Her NEXT favorite place to sleep was under/behind the couch, with her back pressed up against the heat run.  (I can't understand why she needs to be near direct heat, as half of her 15 pounds is fur.)  I not only moved the couch so I could fit the Christmas tree in the living room, but the new one didn't have enough clearance for her to get under.  Again, she needed to find a new favorite place.  She finally has decided that under our bed is an acceptable sleeping area.  Of course, this isn't her PREFERRED place--if she had her druthers, she would be sleeping ON our bed 24/7.  And this is NOT going to happen.

With the new bed, I need to use a foot stool to climb up into it.  The cat has learned that it is MUCH easier to get into bed by using the stool, too.  She doesn't even try to jump up anymore--frankly, I think she is getting too old to jump that high comfortably.  I have no problem with her coming into bed and sleeping with me, but I will not have her on my bed all day long.  And I always move the foot stool when I get out of bed, so she doesn't have access to it until I go to bed the next time.  And this doesn't make her happy.

I don't store things under my bed like a lot of people do.  There is only ONE thing I keep there and that is the box my winter boots are in.  It just is easier for me to get to the boots the few times I need them during the winter if they are under the bed.  Under the bed has become the favorite place for the cat to sleep when she can't get on top of the bed.  There is plenty of room there for any cat, even one that is big as ours, but she isn't satisfied.  She lets me know, every day, that she would be much happier on top of the bed.  Before settling down for one of her numerous daily naps, the cat pushes the box from under the bed, right into the center of the room, where I will be sure to see it--or trip over it, if I'm not careful.  And she does this more than once a day.  She has learned to take passive aggressive behavior to a completely new level.

My cat, in her favorite position:  Lying down.  :D

NOOKcolor Wallpaper

Here is the wallpaper that I have on my NOOKcolor right now:

 

It makes me giggle.  :)

My Romantic Husband

There we were, the week before Valentine's Day, shopping in Hobby Lobby.  K came up to me and asked what size ring I wear.  While I couldn't figure out why he asked, my mind wandered a bit:  We were going to the mall later and there WERE jewelry stores there.  I got a slight thrill over how romantic my husband is.  And then he lead me to an aisle and showed me these:

GOTTA love him.  :D

Winter Driving*

*OR, Get The F*** Off Of My Roads If You Don't Know How To Drive On Snow!


I live in the great north woods.  We get snow.  I have lived around snow my entire life, as I was born and raised 100 miles north of where I now live.  From sometime in October until a time in (the earliest) late March, the roads have snow on them.  That means, no dry pavement for about five months out of the year.  This time period just happens to coincide with the school year, and that is where this story comes from.

'Back home' has a world-class engineering school.  Students and teachers/professors come from all over the world to be part of the university.  Of course, this means a great deal of culture shock for some of these people, as well as a very different way of living.  Many, many of these people have never seen snow.  This causes a number of problems.  K's niece used to work at public safety at the school and told this story:

One morning a professor from India came in and--in his thick, Indian accent--said, "Need ID card."

The Niece:  "Okay, you need a new ID card.  Step this way and we'll get a new picture.  What happened to your old card?"

Professor:  "Got in car.  Started car.  Car wouldn't move.  Tires spin.  Got out of car.  Put ID card under back tire.  Got in car.  Put car in gear, stepped on gas.  And (adding hand gesture indicating flying motion, while looking off into the distance)  'FWINGGGG!', card went flying.  So, need new ID card."

About this time, The Niece had to turn away from the professor so that he wouldn't see her laughing.  She couldn't stop laughing.  To this day, she doesn't know HOW she managed to complete the task of getting him his new ID card.  This became one of the favorite stories around the public safety office.