The Power of The Wolf

Man, there are some funny, funny people out there. Click on the shirt and read the reviews....who needs blogs when we have Amazon?

Our Town Is Famous For....

This guy:

As The King was driving us home from work yesterday he rudely interrupted my phone call to Magillicutty when we happened upon this juic-i-licious specimen of a man at the intersection of St. Augustine and Magnolia. This is not the first time I’ve experienced this beautiful stranger’s lusciousness but each and every time one has the pleasure to gaze upon his splendific physique all rational thought just flies out the window.

At this point I could no longer respond to Magill (which was most likely not a problem as she had taken a couple Valium for a minor surgical procedure and was slurring her words like she’s just had fourteen fillings done and the Novocain hadn’t yet worn off), I could no longer grasp a coherent thought, I could no longer breathe or swallow for fear of taking down that little, tiny bit of vomit that had taken refuge in my mouth.

My mind drew a blank……where was my camera? Could I just hang up on Magill and use my phone to take pictures? What would my mother think if I invited him over for a Fourth of July picnic? SWSLLAJBSDAIDHTNTTH…... SWSLLAJBSDAIDHTNTTH......what would SWSLLAJBSDAIDHTNTTH do?!?!?!? I’ll tell you what SWSLLAJBSDAIDHTNTTH would have done, she would have so hug up on Magill, swung an illegal right-hand turn from the left-hand turn lane crossing in front of three car-filled lanes of traffic to boldly follow this dumpling of a guy and asking him to pose so her picture would most assuredly turn out perfect.

My - God - She’s - Good!

Me?

I just stayed on the phone and mocked my best friend by making shit up and her believing it because she was two sheets to the wind and high as a kite….besides, I knew I could share a video or two without having to utilize the warranty on my camera due to an exploding lens when it focused upon his ass’s gravitational force.

Hell Hath Frozeth Over

Wow, two posts in one day? What, has the world come to? Has hell frozeth over? Has the sky fallen and Henny Penny died before she could let us all know?

Nah, but I saw this video today and laughed so hard; I just knew my friends would enjoy it, too.






By the way, I'm the guy in the light blue shirt....

Dial Zero For The Operator

For those of you that know me, I’m a fairly anal-retentive person that has little rituals, habits, and schedules that I follow on a daily basis. For example, every morning I wake up to my alarm clock SCREAMING for me to hit the snooze button. After an additional nine minutes of sleep I crawl out of bed, drag myself to the coffee pot, and hook up my morning IV. I then make a cup of coffee for Spawnette and head to the other side of the house. I awaken Spawn, who fixes his own breakfast, then creep into Spawnette’s room to leave her cup of coffee and awaken the dead….there’s more BUT you get the idea that this is a habit that I follow each and every day.

Last night I forgot to set the alarm clock. I can’t remember the last time I forgot to set the alarm clock. Sometimes I even set the alarm clock on my days off. WHO DOES THAT???

Me.

So this morning as I rolled over to see how many more nanoseconds of sleep I had left I read the clock and shot straight up realizing it was already 40 minutes past the time I should have arisen. I knew I wasn’t going to make it to work on time so I grabbed my phone so that I can call a co-worker and inform her I wasn’t going to be sitting prettily in my ergonomic office chair at 7:30 a.m. and ask that she please indicate on the dry-erase board I was going to be a few minutes late.

Now before I continue with my story, grab your cell phone, okay?

Got it?

Cool. Here’s my phone pictured below:

I love my phone, it TOTALLY kicks ass!

I proceed to dial the main number to the office and wait for the electronic message indicating I could dial my party’s extension or press “1” to dial by name. I don’t call my co-workers on the phone. When I need to speak to someone in the office I either holler out the door or I walk to their office for a little chit-chat. I don’t know “my party’s extension” so I hit “1” so that I may start dialing by name.

Here’s is where my dilemma came to fruition; answer me this, what’s your last name? Look at your phone and pretend you were prompted to dial an extension by typing your last name. I’ll use my last name as an example…..glace at the picture above and dial the name “FLANIGAN”.

People, the last name I was dialing did NOT correspond with the telephonic number keypad!!!! I couldn’t remember what letter coincided with what number! I’m frantically running around the house trying to find the landline telephone so that I can look at it while I try and dial my party’s last name. I’m typing letters and numbers until the face of my phone screen is totally and completely full. All of the sudden I hear a voice.

It’s calling out to me.

It’s faint but I hear it.

It’s asking……if it can help me.

Where the hell is this voice coming from?!?!?

I lift the phone to my ear and there she is – the “0” operator.

“OhmygoshI’msosorryIwasdialinginyourearmyphonehasakeyboardinsteadofjustnumbersandIcouldn’trememberwhichnumberwentwithwhatletterandIpanicedandjuststartedpressinglettersandnumbersandI’msosorryIwasdialingsolonginyourear.” I exclaim into the phone.

“Can I help you?”

“Yes please, will be kind enough to connect me to ‘the lady in my office that has the same birthday as me?’” I humbly ask.

“Her extension is 3812; please hold while I connect you.”




……as soon as I got to the office this morning I walk to the other side of the building so that I could apologize to the very nice young lady that had the misfortune of being the first operator in the office today.

She was very understanding – as soon as she saw how blonde and old I am.

Hey There Buddy....Whatcha Packin'?

Does your significant other do the same thing mine does? When you ask a simple question, for example “How was your day?”, you get the typical “Fine,” thrown back in your face. I know, I hate that too. I would even love for him to make up a story every once in a while just to bring some excitement into my day.

King Dork returned home on Monday after a long weekend spent in Ohio with family and friends. I asked how his trip was and he responded “I almost missed my flight but you already know that.” Why yes I do considering you called and woke me up at 5:30 a.m. He called to ask me to look on his itinerary to see what airline he was flying. He had gone to the Delta counter but they couldn’t find him. Same thing at the Northwest, Continental, and Southwest airline counters as well. I booted up the handy-dandy laptop, pulled up the e-mailed itinerary, and promptly informed him of his airline, flight time, and flight number.

“Thanks Honey!! Can’t wait to see you!!”

Yesterday King Dork cc’d me on an e-mail he sent to his mom in which he told her about his trials and tribulations of his travel home to Florida from Ohio. He didn’t include all the good stuff when he told me he “almost missed his flight”.…I’ve left most of his message intact:

“Brother” sent a birthday present for you. I wish he would have mailed it since it really caused issues at the security check at the airport. It was ok; I had one heck of an ordeal getting to my plane to come home, though.

First of all I woke up a little late, not real late though, just late. I showered and dressed, got out on the road a little later than I wanted but still had plenty of time. I went to the gas station to fill the rental with gas.

It wouldn't fill.

The darn nozzle kept cutting out anytime a good flow of gas started. I tried multiple positions of the dispenser but nothing worked. So, after literally squeeze squeeze squeeze, I was able to get about 6 gallons into it and then it dawned on me, why don't I try another pump. I went to another pump and sure enough same thing however, this time after fooling with it some, I was able to get a small stream to continuously flow through it. Less than a gallon into it, it started spewing out of the hole you fill. So I turned it off and said the heck with it, it’s full enough... even though I know the tank wasn't full.

I drove to the airport and of course at 5:20 in the morning there’s no one to check the rental car in. So, I turned the keys in at a drop box with the hope they won't overcharge me. I then move on to the airport and arrive at the Delta counter. The auto check-in cannot find my itinerary. I ask about a flight and inadvertently give a wrong departure time, my bad, and of course he replies telling me nothing goes to Atlanta at 6:22. My flight was at 6:10.

So I got to Northwest to see if I am on that flight. NOPE.

Go to Continental, NOPE.

Go to US Air, NOPE.

Did I mention that I never printed out my itinerary? So, I call Marnie and wake her up pleading for help. She boots her computer and finds out it is a Delta flight that I am on... So now its 5:45 and I have a 6:10 flight. YIKES they should be boarding RIGHT NOW!!!!

I run back, ok fast walk for me, to the Delta counter and luckily get one of the ladies to help me. Within minutes I have my boarding pass then ask her if I have enough time to make the flight, she responds with “Yes, you should.” I hurry like a herd of turtles to the security gate and ask the guy there validating your ID to your itinerary if I can go through the VIP line as my flight leaves shortly and I want to make sure I don’t miss it. He said yes since my time was so close so I go through the VIP line, get my bag, laptop, and all of the other stuff I have on the conveyor. I get through and the guy is holding my bag up, “Whose bag is this?”

CRAP!!

I respond stating it’s mine.

“I need to look at something in it,” he says. I don't want to give your present away, but let’s just say what you are getting resembles C-4 explosives, Howitzer casings, large projectiles, rifle grenades and/or anti-tank mines when viewed in the security x-ray machine.

GREAT!!

So the guy asks if he can examine the bag….uhm, can I really say NO? SURE! Go ahead look in there; take a look-see at my dirty underwear and clothing! Go for it!

He finds your birthday present in the box it came in and took it out. Since the box is taped, he hunts for something to open it with....HUNT HUNT HUNT…and I’m thinking “Hey man, I’m in a hurry here, can you speed it up???” I look for my keys but cannot find them. I look for anything to assist but can find nothing because oh wait, I’m in line at security and they have everything I own INCLUDING my dirty underwear. Finally the security guy finds scissors. He opens the box up and proceeds to swab your gift down. “Oh, I need to run this and your carry-on bag through the scanner again.”

GOOD BYE PLANE!!!

So the guy runs everything through the scanner one last time and guess what? Yup, it all checks out now. “Do you want me to wrap your present back up?” he asks.

UHM NO!!! I’ll take care of it, THANKS I think as I politely tell him “No, thank you.”

I quickly throw everything back into the bags and turtle herd it down six gates, three newsstands, and two restaurants to where my gate is. I come around the corner and SAINTS BE PRAISED, the door is still open. SWEET!! So winded I step up and ask if I may board. The lady responded, “Of course you can.” I get on the plane, find my seat, put my stuff away, and say a lucky prayer as I wasn't the last one on the plane. One other guy followed me. So no one can blame me for the plane departing late.

Oh, I forgot to mention that it had snowed most of Sunday and part of Monday so guess what had to be done before we could take off - we had to de-ice the plane!

AWESOME!!

However, once we got into the air the rest of my trip improved. Had enough time to make the connector and was delayed a bit due to fog in Atlanta but we were able to take off and get home just 16 minutes later than scheduled. :) Ok, that got a lot longer than I had anticipated, but I think you will find humor out of it.

Wow…..did you see how much he wrote his mom? No really, did you SEE HOW MUCH HE WROTE HIS MOM?!?!? I think next time I ask him about his day I’ll request the turtle herd version.

Word Of The Day - Again

indecision
Pronunciation: \in-di-`si-zhen\
Function: noun
Etymology: French indécision, from indécis undecided, from Late Latin indecisus, from Latin in- + decisus, past participle of decidere to decide
Date: circa 1763
: a wavering between two or more possible courses of action.

irresolute
Pronunciation: \i-`re-ze-lüt, i(r)-, -let\
Function: adjective
Date: 1579
: uncertain how to act or proceed.

vacillate
Pronunciation: \`va-se-lāt\
Function: intransitive verb
Inflected Form(s): vac·il·lat·ed; vac·il·lat·ing
Etymology: Latin vacillatus, past participle of vacillare to sway, waver — more at
Date: 1597
1 a: to sway through lack of equilibrium
b: fluctuate , oscillate
2: to waver in mind, will, or feeling : hesitate in choice of opinions or courses

I still haven’t heard anything from my brother, "I Have Pictures Of You In A Drunken Stupor At One Of Our Many St. Paddy’s Day/Birthday Parties That I’m Sure You Don’t Want Posted” as to whether or not he would rat me out if I posted a picture montage of the day my sister, “She Wishes She Looked Like Angelina Jolie But She’s Doesn’t and I Don’t Have The Nerve To Tell Her” and I spent at the hospital awaiting our mom to awaken after surgery. I wish he’d hurry and either post a comment and let us all know what he’s thinking or hell, just give me a call and let me if he’s going to be a poo-poo-doo-doo-head and tell mom. I’d like to know before I go spend the night with her her first evening out of rehab. I figure I’ll need a little something to keep me busy while hanging out at her house (she has basic cable and no ESPN or Hallmark channel……) and what better way to amuse myself than sit on the couch with my laptop and post horrible pictures of her as sits beside me dictating what “helpful little things around the house” I can do for her like re-caulk the bathrooms, scrub clean grout with a toothbrush, or if I’m lucky, re-roof the house.

I know he’s reading the blog because he’s already threatened me with the posting of old photographs from the eighties. As one of 32, 472, 879 people that would like to wipe those years from my memory, I’m dreading the fact that all of humanity will have access to pictures showing off my horrible perms and parachute pants. Thank goodness I never stooped so low as to own zebra stripped leggings!

HEY BRO…….WHAT’S IT GONNA BE?

Paybacks....

My neighbor and good friend was going out of town for the holidays to visit with her family in the frozen tundra of New Jersey. She and I both hate boarding our animals and as I was staying home for the holidays I told her not to worry, former vet-tech Moi would be more than happy to take care of her critters while she was away. “Neighbor Lady” has two dogs, Spencer the terrier mix and Lyrica the Hurricane Katrina rescued Doberman, two Rosey Bourkes (Australian Parakeets), a yellow canary, and a fantail goldfish. Not much of a hassle as she is literally right next door.

Unless you count in the fact that the Doberman is crated all day because the small dog is very old and vulnerable and I am half Jewish……or should be due to the size of my guilt gene. This means for me to feel like Lyrica (the Dobie) is getting enough exercise and love I need to let her out to run and chase squirrels at least four to five times a day.

Lyrica has a nervous stomach.

Lyrica was missing her mommy.

Lyrica was pooping or vomiting in her crate four to five times a day.

Queen Goob was not happy.

Queen Goob was doing laundry four to five times a day and this is NOT one of her favorite chores.

But Lyrica is a most fabulous dog so I lovingly cleaned up her messes of vomit and poo, let her out into the yard to chase squirrels, so all was happy and good in my favorite Doberman’s world.

Until, that is, the day her mommy was due to come home. That morning I walked next door in my big fluffy bathrobe with my first cup o’joe of the day and the first book in the Kylar Stern trilogy. I walk through the house and as I drew close to the room in which Lyrica is kenneled the stench of poo got stronger and stronger. Great, more poo to shovel and clean up and I haven’t even finished my first cup of coffee. I switch on the light as the sun has not yet risen and there in the bottom of the kennel I see a buckle and some dog tags. But wait.....where was the collar??? There wasn’t a collar on the floor of the kennel; oh no, Lyrica had somehow removed her nylon collar and eaten every – single – little – tiny – thread possible. Nothing but buckle and tags.

And to top of an already fabulous morning there is shit EVERYWHERE. It’s coating the kennel floor, the kennel wire bars, the lamb’s wool pad she sleeps on. It’s coating the walls, the floor surrounding the kennel, and the TV and wires running along side of the kennel as well. If there was a square inch devoid of poo in the surround vicinity I didn’t see it and believe you me I looked.

So here I am, cup of coffee in hand, poo flung from one side of the room to the other, and a dog that has eaten her collar. And then it hits me…..there is not one piece of that collar pooped out anywhere in all the sludge that is spattered from floor to ceiling.

Crap! Shit! And every other profane word I can think of that involves excrement. What if the collar gets blocked in the dog’s intestines, all her food and poop get backed up in her system AND SHE DIES!!!

ON MY SHIFT!!!

CRAP!!! SHIT!!! My neighbor was due home THAT DAY!

Boy can I tell you I was no longer worried about getting poop stains on my fluffy white bathrobe from that moment on.

Long story short……okay not so short story long……or long story even longer because I don’t know how to explain I’m cutting this long story short…..the dog lived to eventually poop out her fabulous brand new holiday collar and my neighbor wasn’t even upset.

She says that pay backs are hell. This was payback for the time she watched Cooper and when she went to let him out there was a string hanging from his mouth and when she went to remove it from his teeth it kept coming and coming and coming and coming until a HUGE wad of yard was yanked from his throat reeking of stomach acid juice.

Hmmm, maybe she's right, maybe paybacks ARE a bitch!

All I Need Are Some Tasty Waves, A Cool Buzz, And I'm Fine.

Most mornings I arrive at work promptly at 7:30; this morning was an exception. I arose as usual at 5:45 to the persistent buzzing of my alarm clock. I soared out of bed, slapped the alarm clock to activate the snooze, crawled back under the covers and proceeded to dream about that really cool traffic map in the right-hand column of my blog (please don’t ask; I have no idea.) The following conversation took place this morning at approximately 7:21:

*ring*

*ring*

Boss: Good Morning, this is (insert boss’s name here), how can I help you?

Me: Hey it’s Marn. I’m running late, I’ll be there as soon as I can.

Boss: What’s wrong with the bus? (Isn’t he a funny guy…..)

Me: Dude, I totally slept through my alarm.

Boss: *hardy laughter* ‘Kay, see you soon.



Dude????

Totally????

What am I, the reincarnate of Spacoli? My boss is now Mr. Hand? What the hell came out of my mouth?!?!?


Thank goodness they deliver pizza to my complex; it looks like it’s gonna be one of those days.


Dude?

*sheesh*

Believe it or not, I pulled into the parking lot at 8:01. My hair may have been wet but I made it in record time.

All In The Family…..Again

If you’ve been here a while, you’ll remember my story of the family birthday celebration for Spawn and Spawnette in which members of the group thought nothing of bringing with them to the party various types of livestock. This story is even funnier.

Saturday afternoon the EX, our spawn, and most of his family gathered at the home of his parents for an informal get-together/cookout. As we sat around sharing fun stories of our summer escapades so far, I found myself leaning in to hear a particularly funny story being told by the youngest cousin of the group. I’ll do my best to relay that story in all of its splendor and glory.

She began:

“So Husband and I had packed up the boys and headed out to Port St. Joe for Memorial Day weekend. We had to find a place that took not only deviant children but dogs as well cuz we wanted to take them to the beach with us. We found a real nice place that the boys and I enjoyed where fishin’ and the beach were right handy. I thought it was great but Husband said there were too many rednecks around us apparent from their wife-beaters, cans of beer, and fat tattooed women in bikinis.

“After a relaxing weekend we arrived home Sunday afternoon with plenty of daylight for me to go take care of the horses. I headed straight for the barn as Husband and the boys unpacked the car. Small deviant went into the house and came running back yelling to his dad at the top of his lungs”,

“Dad, the dogs pooped in the house while we was gone!”

“Son,” he replied “we had the dogs with us so they couldn’t have pooped in the house.”

“They must have just done’d it cause there’s poop in the house, dad.”

As husband walked into the house he was slammed with the over powering stench of animal waste. “What the……” he yelled as he glanced toward the back of the house and noticed the back door was wide open. Walking further in he sees hoof prints of horse shit that have been tracked throughout the entire house. Apparently, their miniature horse spent the weekend hanging out in the house while the family was out of town. He was a big fan of the living room and spent most of his time there but did take a moment here and there to explore the rest of the house……every single room of the rest of the house…..the house that is currently on the market…….and is open to be shown at any given time. Yup, the horse had a great time and being the kind and courteous little guy that his is, even stayed off the couch because he knows he’s not allowed on the furniture.

And don’t forget, what is the first thing that horse manure attracts? Yup, on top of a house full of horse poop, they had an invasion of flies similar to the African locust swarm of 1986. What a fabulous way to spend the evening of your first day back from a weekend at the beach.

Gosh, and I thought I had it bad spending a weekend trying to keep my dog from peeing in the herb garden I just planted.