Thursday, July 31, 2008

Further Instructions

One of the first little business ventures I tried online was T-Shirts sales, all the way back in 2003. I still have the shop, but haven't paid much attention to it.
The T-Shirts are plain on the front but on the back it looks like someone pinned a note on it. This one pictured says, "Under Surveillance (just act normal). The one I wear all the time says, "Would someone PLEASE stop this woman from spending anymore money? Thanks, her husband.
Under Surveillance is in a contest at

If my Internet moves any slower while collecting the links for this post, I will break something.

Finally! Here is where you can vote, if you want to! Hey it's a break in the EntreCard dropping monotony. The link goes to the second page in the Funny Category section. Look for my t-shirt picture - vote for it! If you don't see it on the second page go to the first, because the barrage of voting from all of you will take it to the first page.

If further instructions are necessary leave me a comment.

Update: Karen voted for me and moved me to page 1, so I fixed the link!

Saturday, July 26, 2008

I Can't Think of a Witty Title

The dog thinks she's a cat. She lounges on top of our couch, guarding the neighborhood. And for some reason she's oppose to any other dog walking down the sidewalk. Doesn't particularly like skateboarders either.

I used up my big word allotment over at the other blog, View of Sue today. I wasn't sure which blog to put the post on, since the post was entertainment related it ended up there, but could have been posted here also, so I linked it.

Also while dropping my EntreCards I ran into a post on No Crappy Crap that freaked me out and I thought I'd share. Follow it's instructions.

Sunday, July 20, 2008

Stinkers the Siamese Cat - FOUND

Good news, they found Stinkers. I don't know who "they" are, I'm just going by the signs in the neighborhood. Apparently Stinkers went missing sometime in the middle of the week. White, 8-1/2 x 11 sheets of paper sprang up on all the telephone poles in the neighborhood.

Siamese Cat
Phone number

You really don't have time to be creative with a sign when your pet gets lost, so you keep it simple. Either the signs worked or Stinkers just got hungry. I have a telephone pole in my front yard and I never looked for the cat.
Pictured is the sign at the end of the development, I guess "they" are thanking all of us for looking.
"Hey, don't mention it, anything I can do to help, really."
I'll be spending the rest of my Sunday guilt ridden because I didn't join the Stinkers search. The weekend was going well too.

Thursday, July 17, 2008

Car Misfortune

Weird things happen to me and my car. I’ve depended on car rental more than I care to say. I’ve had the door of a mini-van fall off the hinge, while driving over a traffic counting cable it came loose and wrapped around my tire wheel, my fuel pump died minutes after I passed my emissions test, a kid with a pellet gun shattered my drivers side window, an axle thingamajig broke, left me stranded in the middle of the road and a woman stopped and asked me for directions. These are each, all wonderful ideas for upcoming posts, my misfortunes on the road are bound to make someone laugh, except the husband, he’s the one that I call crying on my cell phone.

Elaborating posts to follow!

Tuesday, July 15, 2008

Humor on Hold

Sunday morning we woke to the news that a local Police Officer was shot and killed on a routine traffic stop. Josh Miktarian was keeping my community safe, he was keeping my family and me safe, for that I am grateful beyond belief. It takes a very special kind of person to put themselves in harms way.
I ask for prayers and some kind thoughts for this special man and for his wife and three month old daughter.
Our community is in shock. Flags fly at half mast and flowers are piling up where Josh was gunned down, I pass by it everyday. The gunman is claiming self defense, Josh's gun was never out of his holster. While our community mourns we also hope for justice.

Saturday, July 12, 2008

Bad Karma Post

I fear I may have upset Marco Polo. Or the Lord above, can't be sure but I know someone ruined my day of leisure at the pool. I dragged my butt out of bed close to 10:00 am. Yes, I sleep until 10:00 am on the weekends.
The sky was bright and sunny and the pool was calling me. I grabbed my pool bag, contents mentioned in my previous post and strolled to the pool. Found a lounge chair with only one broken strap, pretty good for the crowd that had already assembled there that bright, sunny day, and arranged my belongings in their proper place. Can of Pepsi within reach and book in my hands, I settled in my chair for the tanning process to begin.
This is about the time that the spirit of Marco Polo ruined it all. Apparently he likes the silly assed game in his name. Dark clouds covered the sky and I had only read two pages of my book, didn't even get my can of Pepsi open. I felt sprinkles of rain and since I had walked to the pool I couldn't wait to see if this was going to blow over. I had to pack up before I even broke a sweat. Inside my head I was swearing like a drunken sailor.
On my way I home I came to the realization that for the first time in the history of my pool going days, I had not heard one child utter the words Marco Polo.

Tuesday, July 08, 2008

Marco Freakin Polo

I got nothing against explores/merchants sailing the high seas trading with the Far East back in the day, I just want to let that be known. My biggest problem is the stupid swimming pool game made out of the poor guys name.

And now it's in a car commercial.

My favorite form of relaxation in the summer is to grab a towel, a book, a can of Pepsi and a corner of the pool deck within the development where we reside. With a good Stephen King or Dean Koontz I can tune out the world, almost. The insentient Marco Polo-ing has poked a hole into my life of leisure, grating on my very last nerve. Who the hell thought up this stupid game?
Close your eyes and say Marco, chase down anyone that says Polo with your eyes remaining closed. Can't the children just chase each other with their eyes open and their mouths shut? For years I've worked on my even tan to the tune of Marco Polo, enough is enough already.
Would it be acceptable behavior on my part to approach little Johnny and Susie? You know say something like, "Cha, you know what? Your mindless blabbering is killing my brain cells. Play something else."

Tuesday, July 01, 2008

Turd Grabbers

During my recent Mrs. Kravitz moment as I watched my neighbors teaching their little boy how to ride a bike, I couldn't help but notice at least five people going by the house walking their dogs. I've been known to stare out my window for long periods of time. It's part of my fat ass problem.
The dog walkers all strolled past at various times and in various shapes and sizes, but all with one thing in common, a filled poop bag. The way they all confidently walked past my house you could tell they were skilled, seasoned dog walkers. They have a certain air about them as they saunter by with a leash in one hand and swinging a bag of poop in the other. For those of you that do not have a dog to walk, let me explain to you how the poop gets in the bag.
It's somewhat of an art form. Since a dog will crap just about anywhere, owners must always be on the ready for turd removal. They take their plastic bag and stick their hand in it. Grab the turds with just that thin layer of plastic between their hand and the doo doo. With a single motion they will swoop those turds into the bag, turning it inside out and tie a knot in the bag, securing the turds and smell neatly in the bag of their choice, continuing merrily on their way in less than a minute.
They are an elite group of turd grabbers, for this is not an easy task. Getting it all in one felt swoop requires skill. Not dropping a single turd requires concentration and patience. So when you see a turd grabber walking down the street, give them a nod of encouragement, they have skills beyond ours, they are good at what they do and they are keeping the community poop free.