Pull the lever, flip the switch
Don't know which one
Doesn't matter which
Push the pedal, turn the key
I wonder what
Will become of me
Flip the switch and pull the lever
This one here
(Or there, whatever...)
Turn the key and push the pedal
We'll either die
Or get a medal
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You know your social life is sadly amiss when Friday night consists of eating tacos, farting, and asking the cats if they noticed.
I can hardly wait to see what Saturday night brings.
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I have a couple pairs of pants that have gotten too big for me. I'd like to think it's because I may have lost weight, but who knows. Maybe the textile fairies come at night and stretch everything out while I'm asleep.
I wore one of those pairs today.
I'd forgotten just how bad they are until I started walking around. Every couple minutes I'd have to reach down and tug on my pants to pull them up. Within minutes, they'd start creeping back down.
I visited my mom today, and then I went shopping for a couple things (milk, bottled water, fruit) on my way home. In the store, I again kept having to pull my pants up every couple minutes. I'm sure it looked tacky, but trust me, it looked less tacky than an impromptu appearance of my naked butt in the produce aisle.
Anyway, I drove on home, got out of the car, and gathered my groceries together. As I started walking to the front door, I realized my pants were slipping again... fast. And my hands were full of grocery bags, so I couldn't reach down and pull them up.
Neither could I bend down to put the bags on the ground, because that would surely make the pants slip on down past my butt.
So it became a race against the inevitable, with me making a beeline for the door, and my pants making a beeline for the center of the Earth.
There was a blizzard going on at the time, and I could start to feel the cold winds whoosh against the top of my butt. Thank goodness I had a long coat on, or those snowflakes would been a lot more "noticeable".
By the time I got to the door, my butt was half covered.
The moment I stepped inside and shut the door behind me, my pants finally fell the rest of the way, taking my underwear with them. There I was, groceries in hand, mooning my cats.
So, have you ever put groceries away, with your pants around your ankles?
It's very liberating.
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Thirteen things the letters E.B. could stand for:
1. Early Bird
2. East Berlin
3. Ernest Borgnine
4. Elephant Bowels
5. Exceptional Bullshitter
6. Emotional Bitterness
7. Elf Boobs
8. Electric Barracuda
9. Enthusiastic Bludgeoning
10. Eating Blueberries
11. Exhaling Bubbles
12. Entrails Burning
13. Excellent Blog
And it just so happens that I got this "Excellent Blog" award from DutchBitch!
Thank you! I have no idea what I did to deserve it, but I hope I do it again one of these days!
Hey, I'm just glad the "E" stands for "Excellent", and not other things, like, for example:
1. Expecting (this is sometimes a code word for "pregnant")
2. E-Coli (never a good thing)
3. Enlarged (I'm big enough, thank you very much)
4. Extinct (also not a good thing)
5. Equatorial (I hate hot weather)
6. Elusive (Where the hell's Janna? She was here just a moment ago...)
7. Elderly (maybe someday, but not yet, PLEASE)
8. Embarrassing (Janna, did you just fart?)
9. Eulogized (Not yet! Not yet!)
10. Exterminated (What am I, a termite?)
11. Elastic (most of my parts don't stretch)
12. Elected (I hate politics)
13. Electrocuted (zap!)
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While at the store a couple days ago, I saw some "pomegranate-blueberry" juice. It sounded awesome, so I bought a bottle of it.
I'm about to try it for the very first time, and will then blog about my reaction.
Before I start pouring it into the glass, though, let me pause to make a list of my hopes and expectations:
1. I hope it tastes so deliciously fruity that I have hallucinations of blueberries talking to me.
2. I hope the blueberries speak English, otherwise I'll have no idea what the hell they're saying.
3. I hope all the cells in my body are so incredibly awe-struck that they never even consider the idea of becoming sick, ever again, even if I am within 3 feet of a person whose head is rotating and spewing snot as thick as pea soup.
4. I hope a million dollars magically appears in front of me. Or behind me. Someplace where I can easily find it. I'm not picky.
I suppose I could've listed other things as well, but I don't want to be unrealistic.
Ok, everybody ready? I'm getting the juice....
Pouring the juice....
Tasting the juice.....
Hmmmm...
Ok.
Well, the aroma is sort of like a multivitamin.
The initial flavor is sort of like... a multivitamin.
The aftertaste is semi-fruity, but nothing exceptional.
I detect absolutely no blueberry flavor whatsoever.
There are no hallucinations, no million dollars, and I just overheard my cells discussing the possibility of Bird Flu.
.
There were all kinds of things I could have done for today's theme.
I could've shown you a duck egg with a tail on it, or some strange kind of egg-bologna.
Over at Jantrails I show some neat eggshell carvings, and on Jantics I show the abomination known as Bacon-And-Egg Ice Cream.
I could also point out that if Humpty Dumpty and the Monopoly guy ever have a love child, it would look like this:
But instead I think I'll just make a list of
Things That Do NOT Belong In An Omelet:
1. Metal Shavings
2. Hand Sanitizer
3. Curtains
4. Murder Weapons
5. Post-Nasal Drip
6. A Black Hole
7. Suntan Lotion
8. Starfish
9. Sperm Donations
10. Bunny Fur
11. My tonsils
12. Extension Cords
.
Oh, and here are two Janna-heads on an egg.
No reason.
.
If I eat three hamsters on Sunday, twice as many on Monday, and half as many on Tuesday, then how long will it be before little Timmy notices they are missing?
.
1. I'm so glad you pooped on the floor.
2. Please, shed on THIS chair some more!
3. Your urine is like a fine cologne.
4. Wow, this kitty treat looks just like Dick Cheney!
5. Someday, when you least expect it, I'm going to shave designs in your fur.
6. Because you barfed on my bathrobe, you have to eat Pepto-Bismol for a month.
7. You look delicious.
8. Every time you read my thoughts, I have to pee.
9. Just be glad you don't live with Fab. He hates you, you know.
10. One more hairball and I'm changing your names to Disney characters.
11. Gee, I wish MY dinner involved mysterious animal by-products! (Note to self: avoid bologna and Spam)
12. Can I spray paint you?
13. If you're so smart, why can't you do this list yourself?
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Wouldn't it be fun if our pee was always the same color as our beverages?
Drink cola, pee brown.
Drink orange soda, pee orange.
Drink grape soda, pee purple.
Drink radioactive waste, pee some strange green glowing stuff that kills half the people in your town.
Vampire pee would probably always be red.
(.... DO vampires pee? Does anyone know?)
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I didn't drink anything on St. Patrick's Day, and yet I still have a migraine which is as bad as any hangover I've ever gotten.
Skull burning.
Head exploding.
Brains everywhere.
.
Went out for Chinese today.
Here's what my fortune cookie said:
"Investigate new possibilities with friends. Now is the time!"
So...
Assuming you consider yourself to be one of my friends, what new possibilities would you like to investigate?
.
Earlier today, after running some errands, I noticed that my car smelled really nice for some reason. The scent was vaguely familiar but I couldn't quite identify it.
Eventually I figured out that the scent was coming from an overnight bag I had in the back seat. A bottle of conditioner had leaked and splurted onto my clothes, making a mess.
It looked sorta like someone had performed an obscene act with my nightgown.
Smelled better, though.
.
Thirteen things that (might) look worse than my new drivers' license picture:
1) Monkey snot on toast
2) Outhouse explosion
3) E-Coli having a bad hair day
4) Partially digested hamster
5) Roadkill wrapped in duct tape
6) Kenny Rogers having a hangover
7) Skunk spleen left in the car on a hot day
8) Litter box casserole
9) Toenail clippings under a microscope
10) The love child of a prune and a yeast infection
11) Oprah's large intestine
12) Mustard stains on a jockstrap
13) Manatee balls
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Last night after band a few of us went to McDonalds.
It was late, and we were the only customers there. After drinking my beverage, I really had to pee, so I excused myself and made a trip to the restroom.
As soon as I opened the door, I nearly gagged. Someone had recently "visited", and the olfactory evidence was still pretty strong.
I found this bizarre, since we were the only people there.
Anyway, I hurried up and peed and went back to our table. After a few minutes of chatting, the group decided it was time to start heading home.
But as we all got up to leave, Colleen said she wanted to visit the restroom first.
I wanted SO bad to say "NOOoo, Don't go in there! It's awful! And I swear to god it wasn't me that made it that way!! Even though we're the only ones here, I swear it was someone else!"
But, y'know, how do you bring something like that up?
So I didn't say anything.
But part of me is still wondering what she thought when she opened that door.
I suspect this is probably the universe's way of repaying me for my "incident" a couple weeks ago.
.
First: One of the nice things about being single is that if you start craving tacos at one in the morning, you can easily drive over to Taco Bell and snack up. If you're married or living with someone, though, you sorta have to explain why you're getting up and putting clothes on and leaving the house in the middle of the night. Plus, you're probably obligated to at least ask if they want you to bring them anything. Or, you could even feel inclined to ignore the aforementioned taco craving altogether, so as to avoid the uncomfortable dialogue with your significant other. (Especially if the two of you share the same bed, and you are craving bean burritos.)
Second: In the comments, please use the following items in a sentence or two: Alligators, Andy Dick, BBQ ribs.
.After a great deal of thought and reflection, I am ready to admit that I still have no idea what's going on.
I have, however, come to a few striking conclusions:
1) If you see someone who won't stop talking on their cell phone in public, it might be fun to snatch it away and deep fry it in an egg roll wrapper and then give it back to them with an attractive dish of delicious dipping sauce.
2) Even if a bald guy is really, really mad at you, it is still not possible to fry an egg on the top of his head.
3) I'm not entirely sure what language they speak in Lichtenstein.
4) Sometimes, when you're running your computer from a 25-foot power cord that goes into another room, you will smell a strange odor that is oddly reminiscent of burning plastic. It will scare you to death until you realize that actually it's just the smell of a skunk outside. You will then feel really, really stupid for worrying.
.
This has been a pretty lousy week so far!
Lemme explain.
(1) Monday afternoon, around 4:30, half the outlets in my house suddenly died. I was on the computer when suddenly, **poof**, it shut off.
I discovered that none of the outlets in the living room were working, and none of the outlets in my kitchenside nook were working either.
Now, I've always had trouble with the outlet in the kitchenside nook. That's a whole other story. But this is the first time the outage has completely, permanently affected such a large area. Because of my previous electrical problems, I'm inclined to believe this isn't something as simple as just "blowing a fuse."
I'm still trying to find someone who can help me figure out what the problem is.
I hear that electricians are expensive, but I may have no other choice.
The only reason I'm able to use my computer right now is because I went out and got one of those heavy-duty 14-gauge orange power cords, and plugged my computer's surge protector into that, then ran the cord off into another room where the power DOES work. It will work as a temporary solution until I can get my wiring fixed.
(2) These past couple weeks, I'd been waiting for some important test results, and it appears that the results were not what I hoped they would be. More difficulty lies ahead. I am not looking forward to this.
(3) Tuesday night, after band, I slipped and fell on the snowy sidewalk. I didn't break anything, but it still left me kind of sore. There were two people who saw it happen, and they waited to see if I was ok. I told them I was all right, and they walked away. The thing is, I still had trouble getting up. (I don't get around so well these days). Coulda used some help. But I ended up having to push myself up alone, using my french horn case for stability. Very embarrassing.
(4) Wednesday, I had an all-day migraine, and got absolutely nothing accomplished. All I could do was lay down for about 10 hours until it went away, getting up occasionally to barf.
When I felt better, I got up and drove into town, where I got the new orange power cord I'm using. That's why I haven't been online since Monday afternoon; I didn't have the power cord until today.
I am afraid to find out what Thursday holds.
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Today's blog post is brought to you by my bowels.
(and the letters B & M, and the number 2.)
You're welcome.
It all happened while I was in Coldwater on Friday. I was in the car when I realized I suddenly had to go to the bathroom.
Really bad.
I realized I probably couldn't make it home in time, so I opted to go to a nearby fast food restaurant instead. I didn't want to, but felt I HAD to.
I hate public restrooms and will only use them in case of emergency. This, however, sort of qualified.
So I went to the nearest place, which was Taco Bell. I parked and rushed to the door, only to find that it was locked.
Locked!
WTF! I thought.
It was only 6:00 in the evening; why would they be closed? Besides, the parking lot was full of other cars, so what the hell? A moment later an employee noticed me and cracked the door open just a few inches to tell me that the lobby was closed because they were remodeling. (The cars in the parking lot belonged to the employees, who were working at the drive-thru.) I explained that I just needed to use the restroom. She said no; they weren't allowed to let anyone in.
Aaaccggghhhh!!!
So I drove to the next closest place, which was KFC. I got inside and found my way to the ladies' room. It was a two-seater. One handicap stall and one regular. One stall door was closed and locked, so I headed for the OTHER one and rapidly opened the door----
Only to find the sight of a little old lady with her pants down.
(!!!)
Shocked and embarrassed, I apologized profusely and quickly explained that I didn't notice the spot was occupied. (Dunno why she hadn't locked the stall door. Maybe it was broken).
She didn't say a word.
I retreated to a corner of the room, waiting helplessly for someone to please please finish. Now I had to deal with the bowels of hell, PLUS the image of a pants-less old lady burned into my eyeballs.
After a minute, the other stall emptied, and I got to go in that one instead.
Sweet relief. Sweet, sweet relief.
After I was done, I was finally able to concentrate on other things-- like the fact that the floor was so greasy it was actually slippery.
Yuk.
I will NOT be in the mood for KFC anytime soon.
And you might wanna wait awhile before you go in there too.
Just sayin'.
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