Missing Old Folks
If it weren't for the fact that Hubber works for an old folks home....excuse me, "assisted living community"...coupled with the fact that because he works with these people I get to hear all about how INSANE they are which scares the crap out of me because this is what we will all become some day and I need to give them a break because when I grow looney, I would expect the same the same kind of break...if it weren't for all that, those damn Amber Alerts on the freeway signs during rush hour would send my ass over the edge.
For some reason it doesn't bother me when the signs relay messages about missing or kidnapped children, but when the "elderly missing" signs are flashing at 5:15 p.m. just as I'm determining whether to get on the freeway ramp or take the feeder or back route home, it gets me all worked up! Why can't those damn old farts stay put? Why the hell do they get the urge to wander all over creation at the precise time I'm counting on the traffic signs to actually relay TRAFFIC news?! And it sure seems like they're getting loose more frequently these days.
I blame Hubber for this sudden surge of awol old farts. Everything is his fault. He's letting them loose just to drive me nuts and make me late to work and late coming home...he gets his kicks when I'm all crazy pissed and mad at the world.
Hubber: Hello?
Me: Tie those fuckers up, damnit!
Hubber: What the heck?
Me: Tie their wrinkly asses to their bed posts so that I can make it through traffic without losing my damn mind. Shit!
Hubber: I believe all our residents are accounted for.
Me: Nope...one's loose, driving a blue Buick LeSabre evidently, and heading towards friggen Austin on 290!
Hubber: I didn't think Buick LeSabres still existed.
Me: Who cares! Get your ass on the phone and tell Transtar you found the guy so they can clear the signs!
Hubber: I'm sure the missing guy's family wouldn't appreciate that.
Me: He's probably dead in a ditch or something anyway...you'd be doing half of Houston a favor.
Hubber: What if it were your mom missing?
Me: My mom can't DRIVE.
Hubber: Or my mom?
Me: Seriously? Don't make me answer that.
Hubber: good bye. *click*
Uhm...so, I guess I hit a dead end. I can always count on Hubber to ruin my day by working for old farts.
Further Proof That I Like Dogs
Would an obsessively paranoid mother who hated dogs allow her child to get this close to the face of a 70 lb Mastiff?
Meet Harley, the newest member of our completely insane family. She's only 9 months old and is already weighing in at over 70 lbs! I know, I know...after all the ranting and raving about poop in my yard (see previous poop stinks like shit post), here I am, contributing to the cause. The only way Hubber would agree to such nonsense was if I promised on a stack of bibles that I would be in charge of poop scooping. I've decided that once scooped, I'll either fling it over the fence into the yard of a clueless neighbor or stockpile it and spread it ever so generously in the yard of the yip-yapper-dog-neighbor who I detest....I will call it returning the favor. Just when I thought lil J's poopy diapers would suffice, along came the largest dog EVER...who, in a matter of months will bless us with the hugest, most stinkiest, closest to the size of elephant dung mountains a girl could only dream of. It will be the sweetest revenge.
Husbands Plotting Murder
Last night there was a story on the news about a woman who “fell” off of a cruise ship into the ocean and has not yet been found. Her husband, who is not a suspect in this case, reported her missing. Uhm. Ok. First of all, I’m sure she didn’t FALL off the damn boat. And, second of all, do we really think her husband is NOT a suspect? C’mon. You know that sonofabitch pushed her off the damn boat. It’s always the husband. Always. Hubber didn’t agree…
Me: now THAT is why I’ll never go on a cruise with YOU!
Hubber: huh?
Me: You know what I’m talking about! The only reason husbands take wives on cruises is so that they can push them overboard.
Hubber: You’re crazy. If I wanted to push you into your drowning death, I wouldn’t PAY to take you on a cruise first! I’d do it the cheap way and just dump your ass over a bridge or something.
Me: SO! You’ve thought about it, have you?!
Hubber: or….when we’re in Destin on the 10th floor of that condo building, I’ll just push you off the balcony!
Me: The balcony is not over the WATER!
Hubber: …minor detail….
Me: I’ll never go anywhere with you again!
Hubber: or….on the drive to Destin, there’s always that long bridge in Louisiana….hmmmm….
Me: I hate you. No sex for you.
Then he mumbled something under his breath that I couldn’t quite make out but that I’m sure had something to do with how different sex would be without me when I’m dead…he’ll be sorry.
Last night there was a story on the news about a woman who “fell” off of a cruise ship into the ocean and has not yet been found. Her husband, who is not a suspect in this case, reported her missing. Uhm. Ok. First of all, I’m sure she didn’t FALL off the damn boat. And, second of all, do we really think her husband is NOT a suspect? C’mon. You know that sonofabitch pushed her off the damn boat. It’s always the husband. Always. Hubber didn’t agree…
Me: now THAT is why I’ll never go on a cruise with YOU!
Hubber: huh?
Me: You know what I’m talking about! The only reason husbands take wives on cruises is so that they can push them overboard.
Hubber: You’re crazy. If I wanted to push you into your drowning death, I wouldn’t PAY to take you on a cruise first! I’d do it the cheap way and just dump your ass over a bridge or something.
Me: SO! You’ve thought about it, have you?!
Hubber: or….when we’re in Destin on the 10th floor of that condo building, I’ll just push you off the balcony!
Me: The balcony is not over the WATER!
Hubber: …minor detail….
Me: I’ll never go anywhere with you again!
Hubber: or….on the drive to Destin, there’s always that long bridge in Louisiana….hmmmm….
Me: I hate you. No sex for you.
Then he mumbled something under his breath that I couldn’t quite make out but that I’m sure had something to do with how different sex would be without me when I’m dead…he’ll be sorry.
Holidays and New Starts
Well, the holidays are almost behind us....just gotta make it through New Year's Eve unscathed. Thanksgiving was mostly uneventful, unless you count the fact that I hosted it this year and we had 23 gazillion people sloshing around in our house. And we had two Christmas parties here since then. I'm all partied out. And I miss our housekeeper who's been on vacation for what seems like years...the dirt is piling up and there are remnants of Christmas morning buried deep in rugs and carpets. I honestly don't know how we managed to survive so many years without her weekly cleaning. We must have lived like goddamned pigs. One more week without her is going to force me to do the unthinkable...clean my own house. God forbid.
Celebrating Christmas with lil J was more fun this year than last. She seems to have a grasp of the whole concept now...singing carols and whatnot. And it's nice to have fresh blood in the house who still thinks Santa is watching her every move. J has been hip to us for awhile now...but lil J is still a sucker and we took full advantage of that shit in getting her to behave her damn self. It worked, most of the time. Except when we were at J's choir concert at school. Lil J didn't give a rat's ass if Santa was watching her by god...she was going to sing along with the choir and act a damn fool in front of a few hundred people if she damn well pleased. Some people thought it was cute...others were totally annoyed because they didn't drag their asses to school at 7:00 at night to watch some 2-year-old singing prodigy, they were there to watch their kids sing Silent Night in sign language for crissakes. Me...I was mortified. Needless to say, Hubber sat alone for the second half of the show and lil J and I excused ourselves (loudly, I might add) to the parking lot where more toddler singing and dancing took place. This child has way too much energy for me.
Well, the holidays are almost behind us....just gotta make it through New Year's Eve unscathed. Thanksgiving was mostly uneventful, unless you count the fact that I hosted it this year and we had 23 gazillion people sloshing around in our house. And we had two Christmas parties here since then. I'm all partied out. And I miss our housekeeper who's been on vacation for what seems like years...the dirt is piling up and there are remnants of Christmas morning buried deep in rugs and carpets. I honestly don't know how we managed to survive so many years without her weekly cleaning. We must have lived like goddamned pigs. One more week without her is going to force me to do the unthinkable...clean my own house. God forbid.
Celebrating Christmas with lil J was more fun this year than last. She seems to have a grasp of the whole concept now...singing carols and whatnot. And it's nice to have fresh blood in the house who still thinks Santa is watching her every move. J has been hip to us for awhile now...but lil J is still a sucker and we took full advantage of that shit in getting her to behave her damn self. It worked, most of the time. Except when we were at J's choir concert at school. Lil J didn't give a rat's ass if Santa was watching her by god...she was going to sing along with the choir and act a damn fool in front of a few hundred people if she damn well pleased. Some people thought it was cute...others were totally annoyed because they didn't drag their asses to school at 7:00 at night to watch some 2-year-old singing prodigy, they were there to watch their kids sing Silent Night in sign language for crissakes. Me...I was mortified. Needless to say, Hubber sat alone for the second half of the show and lil J and I excused ourselves (loudly, I might add) to the parking lot where more toddler singing and dancing took place. This child has way too much energy for me.
She's a monster, I tell ya!
Anyway...
I haven't taken much time off work for the holidays...which is a damn good excuse for a shitty looking house. I've been working my tail off. And, I've actually been going TO the office since it's been quiet with all the people gone...I'm even getting shit done for a change. I've almost managed to clear all the clutter off my desk in anticipation for a clean slate for the new year.
They say that clutter is a sign of genius. I believe it.
Labor?
It's labor day weekend and I vowed to observe the holiday spending four labor-free days at home, lounging and what-not. Yes, FOUR days. Whenever possible, I make it a point of taking full advantage of 3-day weekends by extending them. There were plans for many coconutty adult beverages and much pool lounging.
My labor-free plans were soon foiled. Evidently, powers much bigger than me had something else in store for my labor-free weekend. Not only did I find myself connected to my employer more often than I would have liked, Hubber somehow managed to wrangle me into helping him with...dare I say it....yard work. Not the fun, re-potting plants kind of yard work, either....I'm talking the back-breaking kind that only an all-night alcohol binge can cure. Which I was too darn tired to have, by the way...because of broken backs and swollen hands and blistered feet and other things that make me groan in PAIN. We need to hire yard guys.
It's labor day weekend and I vowed to observe the holiday spending four labor-free days at home, lounging and what-not. Yes, FOUR days. Whenever possible, I make it a point of taking full advantage of 3-day weekends by extending them. There were plans for many coconutty adult beverages and much pool lounging.
My labor-free plans were soon foiled. Evidently, powers much bigger than me had something else in store for my labor-free weekend. Not only did I find myself connected to my employer more often than I would have liked, Hubber somehow managed to wrangle me into helping him with...dare I say it....yard work. Not the fun, re-potting plants kind of yard work, either....I'm talking the back-breaking kind that only an all-night alcohol binge can cure. Which I was too darn tired to have, by the way...because of broken backs and swollen hands and blistered feet and other things that make me groan in PAIN. We need to hire yard guys.
Poop Stinks Like Shit
Let me preface this by saying that I love dogs. I love me some big, burly, huggable dogs. I grew up in a home with dogs. I love to pet dogs and roll around with them and play fetch and take them for walks and reward them with snacks. I do not, however, own a dog. Why would such a huge dog-lover like myself NOT have a dog, you ask? The reason is, I do not like scooping poop. If a dog could be potty-trained, I'd have 10 of them. Dogs aren't that damn smart. They like to poop right out in the open. And, poop, well, it stinks like shit....and the smell of shit makes me gag. Hence, the lack of dog in this house.
proof that I actually like dogs
Now that I've expressed how I feel about dogs, I'll get to the point of this here rant. What I hate more than scooping poop is STEPPING on it in my yard. I have the yard of a non-dog-owner, so I expect my yard to be poop-free. Is that too much to ask for?? IS IT?! Some dog-walking neighbors seem to think so. They let their dogs run free, pooping in every yard they pass (what do they feed these animals??)...never mind the homeowner's association newsletter's pleads for dog walkers to clean up after their dogs as they go....never mind MY disdain for dog poop toe jam.
There's this one lady who has FIVE little yip-yappers. She walks three on leashes and two run free, all at the same time. To make matters worse, her hands are free of poop scooping supplies.
And she can barely control the leashed dogs while the others crap and urinate all over town! I wish to shoot her in the eye with David's bb gun. That's how much I hate her. One day I caught the gang red-handed. I dropped what I was doing and jetted for the front yard. Here's how it went...Me: ---clapping hands and making kicking motion with my leg---
Dog Lady:
Me: Ma'am, you're going to have to clean up after your dog.
Dog Lady: Ok.
Me: No, it's not, "O-K"....you let your dogs poop all over the neighborhood and not once have I seen you with a trash bag to clean up after them.
Dog Lady: Ok.
Me: And, for the record, I have a toddler who likes to play in the yard - MY yard...a yard that I OWN...that your dogs have no business POOPING in!
Dog Lady: Ok.
Me: I'm serious! You better come back here with a trash bag and clean this shit up!
Dog Lady: Ok.
Me: If you don't, I will find out where you live and I will empty the contents of every single one of my child's diapers into your yard so that you will know how it feels to be shitted on.
Dog Lady:
Then, she just walked off. Her careless attitude drove me insane. I'm not sure whether she came back to pick up her dog's crap after all. But, I've seen her and her gangle of dogs many times since then. Her hands, as always, are free of trash bags.
I do, however, now know where she lives.
Two can play this game!
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