It's So Sad

It's so sad when elderly cars go missing.
This wasn't the easiest picture to take, careening down the freeway such as I was. So for those who can't read the blur, it says: "MISSING ELDERLY GOLD CHRYS 300" followed by the license plate number.

Such a tragedy. One moment these elderly cars are living out their twilight years enjoying a life well lived. The next they're missing, kidnapped or worse! Then again, maybe the poor thing just ran away.

(Just wanted to add - I really do think this sign was advertising an elderly missing PERSON driving a quite possibly an elderly car, only because these signs generally only used for freeway problems or Amber Alerts. I think it was just poorly worded. I could be wrong though. I discussed it at length with my parents and my dad doesn't seem to feel it's as cut & dried as it seems.)

I Ate This Guy Yesterday

Ok, so I didn't eat HIM, but I probably ate his third cousin twice removed or maybe his niece or nephew. The-guy-who-knows-a-song-about-a-chicken likes to order food adventurously, so when we found ourselves in a Cuban restaurant faced with the opportunity to eat an animal in a sauce made of its own excrement, apparently his first thought was "Yum!"

I was a little more hesitant but I shrugged thinking, "There are plenty of foods that taste better than they look or sound. Sure (another shrug), why not?" Here's what that cute little sucker looks like cooked up in his own ink:

My mom said "It looks like a octopus without tentacles." I quietly told The-guy-who-knows-a-song-about-a-chicken that it looked more like a testicle without an octopus.

But y'know, either way, what it looked like was not the point! The point was, it was stuffed with ONIONS! I mean, animals that look like testicles, okay. Onions ICK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Still, I just steered clear of the stuffing and it was...ok. Not fantabulous or anything. But not so bad either - a definite end to the search for anyone seeking food shaped like body parts swimming in its own juice.

How to Accidentally Get a Coworker to Let you Get Some Actual Work Done

My coteacher taught me how to politely tell someone that although we would LOVE to chat (Really, we would! We're way better at chatting than working), we have an ungodly amount of work to do and not enough time to do it. What is this method that works like a charm each and every time?

"Just start talking about your vagina. They all leave."

In our case it went something like this. Laurie and me are the ones freaking out about how much work we need to get done in a very short amount of time:

Barbara - "And I used such and such a sauce on the fish..."

Laurie - "I think I'm going to start doing vaginal exercises."

Me (pointing at our work on the computer) - "That's a great idea! We can do that WHILE we work!"

Laurie - "You're supposed to stop your urine midstream."

Me - "You don't have to have real urine. We can type and pretend to be stopping our urine. It's still vaginal exercise."

Barbara (waving as she walks out the door) - "Ok. See you guys!"

Lactating Men and Prostitutes Need Not Apply

Did they have to kick out the daddies for leering?

Was there a mad rush of men enrolling in order to gawk at pregnant people boobies?

Were the lactating men filling the classes leaving not enough room for the would be nursing mothers whose unfortunate babies were then left starving?

Exactly how much of a lady does one have to be? Are high heels a requirement? What about pantyhose? Are people kicked out of class for sitting with their legs spread apart or making a joke about bodily functions? What about butch dykes? Did they really intend to be so exclusive?

Who do you suppose gets to decide WHICH females are ladylike enough to attend the class? Do you think there's an interview process? I imagine they have a finishing school for the would-be nursing moms who don't make the cut.

Caution: Ridiculous Warning Ahead

I can never decide whether people on the whole, as a group, species, or whatever are smart or dumb as a post. I work with people every day, so I sort of get a lot of chances to watch and wonder.

Granted, the people I work with are short and have only been on the planet 3-7 years. Still, I’d describe the short folks I work with as smart at the very least - creative, inquisitive, curious, with even occasional bursts of brilliance. None of them seem dumb as a post at any rate.

Something must happen to humans by the time we reach adulthood though that makes us dumber than a box of rocks. It's true that they took the “Warning: may contain peanuts” of the peanut butter I usually buy. But how do we get stupid enough to need this warning be on a package of birth control pills for cryin’ out loud?

“Do Not Use This Medicine If You Are Pregnant, Plan To Become Pregnant, Or Are Breastfeeding.

The manufacturers must be thinking something along the lines of: not only do we expect the people using our product to be trying to prevent a pregnancy already in existence, but these people can’t read words that don’t start with a capital letter. In fact, we suspect they’re using birth control pills WHILE trying to become pregnant.

Did it occur to the makers of these birth control pills that maybe the people who are taking birth control pills while trying to become preganant SHOULD be taking birth control pills REGARDLESS of whether or not they’re trying to reproduce? And while they’re at it, perhaps they can get their partners to steal some condoms.

I'm RUTHLESS I tell 'ya!

I give incredibly strict parent of the week award to ME this week for these two:

For saying "get out of my hair for a second" in a way proven to get instant results -
"Go ahead! Eat the candy! Please! Rot out every last tooth in your head!!!!!!"
(I'm still not sure why they complain about the all natural organic peanut butter or the 100% whole wheat bread in their lunches.)

And this incredibly effective punishment-
Me - "This car is NOT MOVING until you two QUIT ARGUING and apologize to each other!!!!!!!!!!!!"
Cassie (scowling) - "Sorry."
Jared (monotone) - "I'm sorry I hit you. Next time I won't hit."
Me (realizing what parking lot I happened to have pulled into) - "OH LOOK! We're at the Israeli bakery! You guys want some pita and hummus?"

I'm going to start teaching parenting classes next week.

On Helping People Decide Whether or not to Steal Condoms

I'm still fascinated by the google searches that find this blog. I feel like I might possibly be helping out the umpteen searches I get per day for chapter books, picture books and the like. But I'm less certain how helpful I can be to the people who searched for these:

Tampon eating
Tampon munching
To both of you, I'm going to say I think they'd be a little dry.

stealing condoms
I’ve already stated my opinion on stealing condoms: Steal them. Do the human race a favor and steal some condoms if you are so inclined. Please.

i always do all the calling
If you're the guy, you SHOULD do all the calling! I've explained my reasoning several times over, but in my opinion the phone calls are the guy's job. The gal's job is to glance at the phone now and again as if it's betrayed her and wonder why you haven't called.

heroine addict personality
I really only feel qualified to give advice on dating coke heads. I apparently don't even recognize a heroine addict even when I talk to him extensively about xanax, or whatever the heck it was Shannon had to offer. Actually, I'm not all that great at recognizing the coke heads in a timely fashion either.

sugar booty
I don't know what “sugar booty” is, but I’m wondering if it’s related to “booty balls”, a product my friend Laurie added to my shopping list recently while I wasn’t looking. I went ahead & added it to the shopping list of the-guy-who-knows-a-song-about-a-chicken while HE wasn’t looking too, because whatever the heck they are, it sounds like you could never have too many...as opposed to:

hair booty
I don't know what hair booty is either, but it sounds a whole lot less appetizing than the sugar booty.

This is a picture of an Alcoholics Anonymous (Unidos Venceremos) right next door to a liquor store. My dad asked about it when he went into the liquor store one day. The guy at the counter shrugged and said, "We were here first."
This picture is at the request of my 12 year old Cassie, who thought all the beer bottles next to a sign about it being illegal to drink would be funny. I'm not really all that great at making those arrows, but for her sake I did my best: