Bee nice to me.....I didn't run anyone over today

I have pages and pages and pages of topics to talk about.  None of them interest me right now.  See, that's the problem with these blogs; it's hard to find a topic that people can force themselves to start reading while putting enough humor in it to keep them going to the next paragraph.  I will not be offended if you go to sleep or go watch that train wreck of a show called, "It's always sunny in Philadelphia."  

Now there's a show that I just don't understand.  It truly is a train wreck to me.  But it's SUCH a train wreck that I can't NOT watch it.  Does that make sense?  I will be scrolling through the guide and see that show is on and turn to it.  Before I can talk myself out of it, I am already watching it.  And I can't even stand Danny DeVito.  I mean, I liked him in Taxi, although he was really loud and mean.  You'd think that would interest me but it doesn't.  Loud and mean.  I like mean, don't get me wrong.  Hell I have enough mean in just ME to fill a dozen or so people but loud and mean don't go hand in hand.  

Loud is for getting your point across.  Mean is for kicks.  Haha man I need to kick my ass.  

Got all my recyclables taken to the bins.  Come home to find out I have wasps all around my front door.  That's just great considering I'm allergic to them.  I sent a text to Gee telling him he is on kill patrol when he gets home.  That job is exactly how I found out I am allergic to those little bastards.  We were in C-town and Gee was doing some fence work for some previous clients of mine and I went in and got the Raid Wasp & Hornet spray because I saw a lot of them and I had my baby Bear and ya know, as a good mommy, didn't want HIM to get stung!!  So I walked over to the area I knew the nest was at (but we hadn't found it yet) when about a dozen or so wasps come out and fly right at me.  I hadn't even had time to spray yet!  

Those little bastards knew what was coming!!  So what do I do?  I swatted at them.  Boy that pissed them off! I got stung in each hand.  In the very same place on each hand.  How ironic is that?  Matching stings.  Within seconds, my hands looked like Professor Klumps hands.  H-U-G-E.  Oh dear, it was awful.  Gee stands there and watches me get stung.  He doesn't even move to help me or anything.  All he can say is "Get out of there."  I'm on a deck with a low locked door.  Thankfully the deck is level with the yard because I had no choice but to jump over the railing.  

I will never forget that.  I had to drive home because Gee didn't have a license at that time and my car is a stick.  I couldn't bend my fingers and Gee had to shift gears for me.  And if that wasn't fun enough, I couldn't write for days because I couldn't grasp a pen and I had just started my job about a month previously, if that. Kinda hard to write messages or even type messages when your fingers won't bend.  Or move.  

So yeah, right now I am staying inside with my friend Epi.  Man I hate those little bastards.  The wasps, not the pens.  And I'm pretty sure there's one either on my front porch or inside my house somewhere.  Every little bit I just stop what I'm doing and listen for the buzzzzzzz.  Luckily I've only found a fly so far.  

I had a pretty uneventful day at work today.................again.  I went to Subway for my lunch and about half a block away from where I had just pulled out, a lady and her young daughter were bike riding.  They were just ready to cross the road from being stopped at a stop sign so I stopped.  Completely.  I waved at them to go on across the intersection.  I figured it would be a nice gesture since her daughter was with her.  The mother just smiled at me.  So I said out the window, "Go on across.  I will wait."  She just kept smiling at me and says, "No, you go on ahead."  Really you ungrateful wench?  I just stopped a two and a half ton vehicle for you.  The fucking least you could do was cross the damned street.  The next time I see her, I may not be so nice.  You can't say I don't sometimes TRY to be nice!!!

So remember, the next time you are out walking or riding your bike and someone takes the time to stop their vehicle to let you pass, PASS!!  Don't be a bitch about it or that person could just run you the fuck over.  Seriously.  I know crazies like that.

My cousin Bond sent me a message today.  He's going to be our "guide" when we go out to Vegas this fall.  He's a sick fucker and one of my favorite cousins in the world.  Just because he figured out (and he shouldn't even know about this shit) that I went and had a Brazillian wax job done, he thought I should know they also do anal bleaching.  WHAT.  THE.  FUCK???  First off, why would you need to bleach your anus?  Secondly, how would you even KNOW your anus needed bleaching?  Thirdly, why would you ALLOW someone to bleach your anus?  Fourth, why would you PAY someone to bleach your anus?  Oh my gawd, I couldn't believe it when he sent it to me.  The things this man knows about scares the bejeezus right out of me for sure.  And he thinks I'm a freak.........................HA!  That's one of those "takes one to know one" things right there!  This subject makes me want to go bathe.  Gross

Another thing on Facebook today.  This little diddy.

A true friend doesn't care when you're broke, what you weight, if your house is a mess, about your past, or if your family is filled with crazies.  They love you for who you are.  They back you in all you do.  A true friend can go long periods of time without speaking to you and never question the friendship.  Report if you have at least one true friend.

And trust me.  It's on EVERYONE'S wall!  I'm so sick of seeing it.  I think every damned person on my friend's list has it posted.  Makes me want to punch them.  A true friend would tell you that you are annoying the fuck out of them by posting this shit on your wall after nine hundred others have already done it.  WE GET THE FUCKING PICTURE ALREADY!

While waiting for something to happen today, I called my cell phone provider to ask some questions that obviously they knew nothing about.  I had to go through about three different people.  They had me on the line for an hour.  No kidding!  And the last lady I talked to; ugh!  She thought I was so nice she just wouldn't shut the fuck up.  Seriously.  She told me that she just loved talking to me and was asking me what apps I have on my phone and was telling me all the apps she has on hers...blah blah blah.  Are cell phones worth that bullshit???

I will close with this really funny joke I got today.  I was sitting at my desk just laughing my ass off.  My co-workers probably thought I had finally lost it.  Here goes: 

BUYING A MATURE WOMAN'S BATHING SUIT

When I was a child in the 1950s, the bathing suit for the

mature figure was-boned, trussed and reinforced, not so much

sewn as engineered. They were built to hold back and uplift,

and they did a good job. Today's stretch fabrics are

designed for the prepubescent girl with a figure carved from

a potato chip.

The mature woman has a choice, she can either go up front to

the maternity department and try on a floral suit with a

skirt, coming away looking like a hippopotamus that escaped

from Disney's Fantasia, or she can wander around every

run-of-the-mill department store trying to make a sensible

choice from what amounts to a designer range of fluorescent

rubber bands.

 What choice did I have? I wandered around, made my sensible

choice and entered the chamber of horrors known as the

fitting room. The first thing I noticed was the

extraordinary tensile strength of the stretch material. The

Lycra used in bathing costumes was developed, I believe, by

NASA to launch small rockets from a slingshot, which gives

the added bonus that if you manage to actually lever

yourself into one, you would be protected from shark

attacks. Any shark taking a swipe at your passing midriff

would immediately suffer whiplash.

I fought my way into the bathing suit, but as I twanged the

shoulder strap in place I gasped in horror, my boobs had

disappeared! Eventually, I found one boob cowering under my

left armpit. It took a while to find the other. At last I

located it flattened beside my seventh rib.

The problem is that modern bathing suits have no bra cups.

The mature woman is meant to wear her boobs spread across

her chest like a speed bump. I realigned my speed bump and

lurched toward the mirror to take a full view assessment. I

was the proud owner of a uni-boob!

The bathing suit fit alright, but unfortunately it only fit

those bits of me willing to stay inside it. The rest of me

oozed out rebelliously from top, bottom and sides. I looked

like a lump of Playdoh wearing undersized cling wrap.

As I tried to work out where all those extra bits had come

from, the prepubescent sales girl popped her head through

the  in, "Oh, there you are!" she said, admiring the

bathing suit.

I replied that I wasn't so sure and asked what else she had

to show me. I tried on a cream crinkled one that made me

look like a lump of masking tape, and a floral two-piece

that gave the appearance of an oversized napkin in a serving

ring.

I struggled into a pair of leopard-skin bathers with ragged

frills and came out looking like Tarzan's Jane, pregnant

with triplets and having a rough day.  I tried on a black number 

with a midriff and looked like a jellyfish in mourning.

I tried on a bright pink pair with such a high cut leg I

thought I would have to wax my eyebrows to wear them.

 Finally, I found a suit that fit, it was a two-piece affair

with a shorts-style bottom and a loose blouse-type top. It

was cheap, comfortable, and bulge-friendly, so I bought it.

My ridiculous search had a successful outcome, I figured.

When I got it home, I found a label that read, "Material

might become transparent in water."

 So, if you happen to be on the beach or near any other body

of water this year and I'm there too, I'll be the one in

cut-off jeans and a T-shirt!

Note: Anyone who received this - who wears a single digit

dress size -THIS WAS SENT TO YOU IN ERROR, but I hope you

got a good chuckle out of it anyway!

Oh that is just too funny!  In closing, I have to tell you what I read in my book today.  "You got to cry as much as you laugh so be careful how much you laugh."  Pretty neat quote but I hope it's wrong because I laugh at WAY too much at life!  

"The snow will be as high in winter as the spiders make their webs in August."  I have never paid attention.  I was too busy running away from the spiders.

Until next time.  Have a good evening folks.