Heisman Trophy My @$$...I Just Want My House Back!

OK people out in the blogosphere…this rant will probably offend anyone who is a severe football fanatic sooooo let me apologize in advance for what I am about to BLART… BUT who gives a rat’s ass who’s the number one pick in the NFL Draft?!  I really don’t give a $#!T(if this was a real BLART there would be a roll of TP in front of the $#!T…need to learn how to create TP in a Word doc! HA! But any hoo… I digress...)…I just want my F’in home back! So fellow NFL hater’s here’s what happened…every year I have to endure the following ridiculous and totally annoying events in my household:

1)      The NFL Combine-Basically torturous circuit training that they have fooled the new NFL up and comer’s (they are not very smart fella’s) into thinking that surviving it, is the ONLY way to prove themselves worthy of their NFL’ness!   Why yes…that would be running around in tights, grabbing each other’s asses (they call it tackling but all I see is a big dude pulling some guys down by the shorts!), and running around making sure that they play “keep away” from the other mean kids on the playground!  So ridiculous!

2)      The NFL Draft-Gathering of a bunch of really BIG dudes and their Lemmings A.K.A. NFL fans where it is totally appropriate to kiss, hug, and pat each other on the ass when they are drafted onto an NFL team.  Kind of seems a little “Romanesque” to me…I’m just sayin’.

3)      Fantasy Football Draft-Virtual idiot NFL team owners who trick each other into taking each other’s crappy ass NFL players (all in the name of male bonding) with the hopes of winning “The Big One”.  Oh and they also make fun of each other and call each other douche bag’s over the chat session as the games are going on in real time! Who does not find being call an ass clown TOTALLY entertaining…ah…that would be me! 

4)      Football Season-7 months out of the year where I have to endure couch commando’ing, beer drinking, and basic ignorance of anything going on around the person watching “The Foosball”.  Totally ridiculous…makes me want to go back in time and kill the sick sadistic fool that invented this stupid ass game!  Thinking that it was some whack a doodle that was trying to steal a loaf of bread, back in the day,  and when he got tackled to death, the on-lookers were like “Hee Hee…now that’s entertainin’ let’s do that AGAIN!...with more witnesses!” Again…totally ridiculous!

OK so here’s the deal, every NFL lover KNEW that last weekend was the NFL draft and I have to tell you that I had to “prepare” for it a week prior to the stupid ass event even happening because for some (my Dallas Cowboys loving husband…that in itself is just sad right?) that event is the SHIZZNIZZLE!  My husband is such a football freak to the point where he had to repeatedly remind me over and over again, that he was going to be “unavailable” the WHOLE weekend that the DRAFT was going on and that I would have to understand that he was not to be “bothered” the whole entire time!  WTF?  First of all…I kind of did a little jump for joy when I realized that he was basically going to be in a zombie like trance all weekend and that I could totally shop my ass off and he would have NO clue what happened…BUT the kicker of it all is that unbeknownst to me, he has commandeered the whole entire house!  OMG!  Every TV is either tuned to ESPN or is DVR’ing something that is related to this totally ridiculous event!  Don’t get me started on how every computer is streaming some form of NFL related vomitus crap and he has Sirius Satellite radio blasting the NFL radio channel on his CELL PHONE!!!  Who in the hell does this?  I refuse to believe that this “Event” is so important to warrant basically a NFL Draft “Home Base” that is so intense that if a gnat farts the house alarm goes off and the NFL SWAT team comes busting in!  Again…totally ridiculous!  Don’t get me started on what happens after this outrageous event where I have to basically hear about every football player’s life events EVERY SINGLE DAY and how that is going to have an effect on his fantasy football chances for success because he pulled a butt muscle or some other stupid random injury!  Who gives a rip whether or not some dude has turf toe or is going to be traded because he has a hang nail?!  I DON’T CARE! Totally makes me want to invent the NSL (National Shopping League) and watch ladies get drafted (based on their bad ass shopping abilities) and then have them shop against each other to see who can get the same things on their lists at the VERY same time!  Reminded me of an article that I read once about those crazy brides that basically go “Wild Kingdom” on each other’s asses over bride dresses that go on sale at Filene’s basement!  I would totally watch that crap and get some well needed shopping pointers from those ladies in the process! UFC had better watch out…I heard those ladies are vicious!  HA! Thinking that making my husband endure the NSL with me might make him catch a clue at how ridiculously stupid this whole NFL DRAFT thing is…all I know is that I want my home back from the crazy NFL fan that has been sitting in his chonies with the remote in his hand for 3 WHOLE DAYS! !  If any of you out in the blogosphere have to endure this same form of torture please comment and share…my little cardboard box house, out in my back yard, is about to get some curtains installed because my real house is being held hostage by the stupid NFL DRAFT!  Again…WTF is up with that? 

What am I listening to as I rant in this bloggary:  Thunderstruck, by AC/DC.

I Am Twitter Challenged…I Feel Like A Twee-Dork!

OK people in the blogosphere…today’s rant is about a little social network application called Twitter, that I shamelessly created an account on, to try to connect to more readers, only to find out…that yes…I  am a Twee-tard!  WTF is up with that?  So here is what happened…I was reading some articles on the great WWW on some “helpful” hints geared towards how to get your blog circulated more, get more followers , yadda, yadda, yadda, and almost all of them said to create a Twitter account.  So that is what I did…BUT now I have NO clue what to do with it!  I am such a dork!   So let me just break it down to you all in blogger land, I (being the whacked out engineer that I am), decided that I am going to learn all about this Twitter thingy and how to use it!  I tell myself, that I am an engineer for crying out loud, how hard can this be right?  I solve some seriously intense and difficult problems every day…this is going to be a piece of cake right?!  Yeah…not so much…and  (because I am a perfectionist control freak), I don’t want to break any Twitter etiquette rules so I found myself blurry eyed and over caffeinated in the wee hours of the morning trying to learn all that I can about tweeting only to find out that I am 100% Tweet-tarded!  I am such a Twee-dork that I am actually scared to use the stupid thing for fear that I am going to Tweet out to someone and that they are going to Twee-scream back that I broke some sacred tweet rule and that I should not have tweeted that random crap out to the Tweetosphere (don’t know if that really exists but I am on a Tweet themed roll here so whatever!).  That crap is so confusing!  So I have decided that instead of Twitter, I am going to just shout out one liner BLARTS (Blog verbal gaseous nonsense a.k.a farts) to all of you in the blogosphere because that is so much easier than using Twitter!  Thinking that the interface might be tricky though…hmmm…instead of hash tags I could have a roll of TP and then a random word, that catches my eye so that if you are following me you can re-BLART out to each other and share with one another my random BLART comment and all you would have to do is click on the roll of TP!!  HA! HA! Thinking I could use emoticons in my BLART outs to get my point across without saying ANYTHING…like when you combine the sheep emoticon with the blocks you get a shitting bricks effect…GENIUS!!!!  I am sooooo going to patent this idea…it will be the next competitor to Twitter but soooo much easier…thinking those dudes on Twitter should have been nicer to me when I called their 1-800-tweet-challenged hot line asking for help and they HUNG UP ON ME for being too old and stupid to understand their social network! Bastards!  Also thinking that maybe I should suggest to them that they need to create some kind of Tweet picture book or maybe a paint by number tutorial that explains it all to me…because this old ass CHICKEN is Twitter challenged that is for sure!  So all of you out in the blogosphere…can someone tell me how to use that crap because I can tell you that I have tweeted twice now, and even though I did not get Twee-yelled at, I was sweating the whole time my cursor was hovering over the “Tweet” button because I didn’t know if I was going to get some nasty little “Tweet-o-gram” telling me that I have violated some Twitter rule or if I was going to get a virtual Tweet slap for tweeting something that I shouldn’t have!  Sheesh…just another reason why getting old SUCKS…if I can’t understand “The Tweets” then what is next?  Ben Gay and some comfort hose are in my Amazon shopping cart just waiting for me to click my way down to where they send old people that can’t figure out technology…why yes they call it Twitterville!  WTF?  Who doesn’t know how to use Twitter?  Apparently that would be me…sigh…

What am I listening to as I rant in this bloggary:  I’m Like A Bird, by Nelly Furtado.

Jurassic Park Called…They Want Their Dinosaur Back!

OK people in the blogosphere…so here’s the deal…there are times in your life when you feel like you could not feel any OLDER…well the other night I felt like a relic straight out of the Smithsonian! Move over million year old Woolly Mammoth you’ve got some competition…and embarrassingly enough that would be ME!  Sheesh!  So let me tell you all in the blogosphere what happened… remember when I was ranting about being on business travel?  Yeah…well that trip kept on getting crappier and crappier by the sleep deprived second and by the time the second night rolled around I was more than ready to tell my manager that I was allergic to travel and that there wasn’t enough Benadryl to get rid of that affliction! Travel sucks!  Any hoo… back to my blog-o-rant…so we all decided to go out to dinner that night and wanted to sit in the bar area of the restaurant because it was not packed and of course, it had the most TV’s that were tuned to various types of sporting events (even on travel I can’t get away from freakin’ ESPN…my husband would be so proud!)   So when we finally sit down, a young little blond bartender comes to take our drink order and of course, she starts at the other end of the table, and as she makes her way down the table she is checking ID’s as she goes.  She finally gets to me, and I am asking her some questions about the local micro brews on the drink menu, so when I finally decide, and I am more than ready to hand her my ID, she does the unthinkable….SHE WALKS AWAY WITHOUT ASKING FOR IT!!!!!!!  Holy Shit!  I am mortified!  I felt the need to run her down in my motorized scooter, and shove my ID in her face just to show her that I am not as OLD as the Ancient Greek Mythological Beast that she assumed I was and that she needs to CARD ME to verify!  WTF…could I possibly feel any older?! Watching her perkily walk away from me, I was so far into the old ass slumps that I felt the need to grab the alcoholic beverage out of the gentlemen’s hand that is sitting at the booth next to me and glug it down like I am lost in the Mohave Desert and his drink is the only liquid around!   So depressing!! Soooooo feeling the need to vindicate this horrific wrong, that I also wanted to ask the gentleman at the bar (that was manning that annoying Trivia game…that I always lose at because apparently I am senile too!) to post my ID on the big screen and…oh I don’t know…add some really annoying blinking flashing lights around it so that our bartender realizes that she FORGOT to ask for mine! Geeze! This SUCKS! The kicker of it all was that the whole table was witness to my whole sad Senior Citizen moment and I, feeling the need for justice to right this horrific senior moment that has gone SO WRONG, just turned to them with a shocked look on my face and exclaimed “WTF?  That did NOT just happen right?”  They all looked at me and then…yeah…started laughing their asses off!  Which told me, why yes…you were basically told WITHOUT SAYING ANYTHING that you should scooter on back to the rest home that you clearly escaped from and get your BINGO on!  Seriously want to re-think the whole” Botox or not to Botox” decision or put a bag on my head and hope that it becomes a trend and nobody notices the crazy old “bag” lady running people down with her golf cart!  If this depressing moment has ever happened to any of you in the blogosphere please comment and let me know…I have already glued pig tails to my paper bag and am about ready to apply the lipstick here before I don it on my old ass head! Sheesh …this getting old SUCKS!    

What am I listening to as I rant this bloggary:  22, by Taylor Swift.

 

Passing Gas IN PUBLIC ...What Are You Five?

OK…so everyone out in the blogosphere knows that this blog generally bashes the stupid $#!T that my husband does and I wanted to share with you another WINNER!  So here you go!  We were in the Super Target the other day and we were casually strolling around the ginormous store picking up miscellaneous crap and shoving it in our basket when my husband nonchalantly leaves me and my daughter standing in the DVD section by ourselves.  I, being the stupid fool that I am, think nothing of this and as my daughter and I make our way towards where he has “just exited stage left” I start to smell something kind of funny in the air.  Scrunching my nose up, I casually look down at my daughter who has her little hand covering her entire face (she was more at the level of the gas infested storm…so she was in the first strike zone…poor thing!) and then she does what any child does…she screams out “Mommy…did you fart?”…like IN PUBLIC!!!!  Yeah…there are times where you want to NOT claim your children and sadly enough because my other half CRAPPED HIS PANTS…this was one of those moments!  I WAS HORRIFIED!  I quickly lean down and tell her that I did NOT just crank out a butt bomb and that we should use our “inside voice” from here on out…like that EVER works with children but I HAD to do something right?!  Oh BTW…while I was trying to control the scene…the stench was getting worse by the Nano-second so not only am I horrified here but I am also about ready to pass out from the lack of oxygen being sucked out of the air by the obnoxious gaseous fumes that clearly were not from a person from this planet!  Thinking that at least ET’s farts would have the common sense to have the faint scent of Reese’s pieces looming around it instead of something that smells like a cross between rotting beer and nasty BBQ!  Seriously!? WTF?  Oh…did I also tell you all in the blogosphere that I am not alone in this aisle of fumes that would make tear gas run for its life? Yeah…life could not give me a break here and let me be ALONE in the aisle of shame…OH NO…there is a really cute elderly couple that are clearly traumatized by the witnessing and now smelling the whole scene a couple of DVD’s over!  Yeah…good times…NOT!!!  To say that they are quickly making their way away from us is an understatement…I had NO clue that one could walk so fast in one of those walker thingy’s but apparently those tennis balls give those babies traction because those elderly folks fled the scene like THEY were the ones that obviously SHARTED their pants!!!!  OMG!  Clearly want to DIE now!  So now you all on the blogosphere are probably wondering what I did here right?  Well I did what any grown adult does…I ran out of there like I had just robbed the Gotham City Bank with Batman chasing me down with a gas mask on!  Sheesh!  The “funny” thing about this whole thing was that I found my husband just around the corner laughing so hard that he was practically rolling on the floor…yeah he heard it all (that bastard!!!!) and when he finally recovered from his laugh fest he was like “why are you mad? It was just a fart?!”  Seriously feel the need to roll him like a mugger from the streets of NY and kick his nasty ass all over the Super Target’s floors!   I finally catch my breath, unclench my fists, and do what any mature adult does…I give him the finger and storm off!!!! That will teach him…well not really…because I am blogging about him…yet again…so obviously you CANNOT teach an old dog new fart tricks!  Sheesh!  WTF? Who lets out an anal explosion in public?  If any of you in blogger land have been subjected to such treatment please feel free to comment and let me know that I am not alone and clearly not suffering from some brain damage from the lack of oxygen here!  Sheesh!

 

What am I listening to as I rant in this bloggary:  Catch My Breath, by Kelly Clarkson.

 

I Hate Being Scared…I Am So NOT Seeing Evil Dead!

So today’s bloggary is about a casual conversation that one of my co-workers and I had about how EXCITED he was to see the Evil Dead remake and how I responded…like as in HELL NO I am not watching that freakin’ movie…AGAIN!  It was a scary ass mistake the first time I saw it…in the 80’s… with all of my “Aqua Netted” friends huddled together so close that we looked like a huge ol’ acid washed hedgehog that were emanating the stench of Love’s Baby Soft from all of the perspiration that was oozing off of us...because WE WERE SCARED SHIT LESS!  Let’s just say that I usually learn from my mistakes (well my husband is the anomaly here but that is another blog post(s) entirely! HA!)  and I am totally not repeating that horrific one…the visual alone is terrifying enough to tell you why I am not re-living that crap over again!  So let’s just cut to the chase shall we?  OK…here we go…I am NOT going to go to a horror flick with the understanding that I am going to get the SHIT scared out of me EVER!   I can safely say that I know exactly how it is going to go down…I am going to be hiding underneath my jacket, with my fingers in my ears, trying to still eat popcorn (I have to eat it while it’s still warm…cold popcorn sucks…just sayin’…) all the while humming the “Just Keep On Swimming” song from Finding Nemo, like an escapee from crazy town!  Sorry ain’t happenin’!   I cannot lie to all of you in blogger land…I am a sorry ass wimp when it comes to any type of movie that has any blood, guts, or body parts flying out of cabins, graves, port-o-potties, or whatever edifice some crazy whack job of a producer thought would be “entertaining” to fly out of!  Don’t get me started on the “great” THX surround sound and the 3D effects that make the delusional lunatic (that is chasing some poor fool down like he is some crazy voodoo priest going after his sacrificial chicken…with a HATCHET the size of China…) feel like he is sitting on my lap drooling down on me like I am his next steak dinner all the while that crazy scary suspenseful “just waiting to hack you“music is blaring in my ear!  NO F’in WAY! I can  tell you all in the blogosphere that shitting my pants in the confines of my living room is terrifying enough, (not only for me but for the people around me that have to witness my major “I Love Me Jacket” moment)  but why would I subject myself to dare the diaper dance in a public place where I have to crawl over some really scared and pissed off people to get the hell out of there after the scene (there is ALWAYS this scene) where body parts, blood, and a random chainsaw get flung out at you WHEN YOU LEAST EXPECT IT!!!!!  Every time that happens I jump like I just got a very large Tetanus shot in the ass, and anything that I had in my hands is immediately flung on to the unsuspecting fool that has the balls to sit in front of me!  BTW…he/she should have known, by the constant nervous tapping on the back of their chair (like I was “that” irritating kid on an airplane) that I was going to be trouble right?  HA!  The frosting on the “crap your pants cake” is the look the person gives you when he or she is shaking the popcorn and Ju Ju B’s out of their hair as you profusely apologize all the while dodging the “colorful” barbs from the people around you that are basically telling your pansy ass to Get the F* Out!  Sheesh…I have NO idea what their problem is…made me think about inventing some type of techno gadget that would display movie subtitles on my ass just for emergencies like this! That TV show Shark Tank had better watch out because this idea is a KEEPER! HA!  Just kidding…so any hoo…if anyone out there thinks that there is a snow ball’s chance in hell that this chick is going to watch that scary ass movie…well you are all sadly mistaken! Let me just say that if I wanted to watch a scary movie, I would just sit back and watch my nightmare of a husband for a while…that shit would scare the pants off of Freddy Krueger…and again…that is saying something…it really is! 

What am I listening to as I rant in this bloggary:  Somebody’s Watching Me, by Rockwell

Is That A Swimsuit Or An Acme Tent You Got Goin’ On There?

Today’s blog is about going to the mall with the intent of buying a much needed swimsuit and realizing that I should have been shopping at an Army surplus store!  OMG!  So terrifying!  Let me just set up the scene for all of you in blogger land…I, like every other shopaholic, go through my closets like twice a year and weed the $#!T out of it so that I can go shopping for more crap!  I have a really good con that I have got going on here because I shamelessly dupe my husband into thinking that I am actually getting rid of my cherished fashion faux pas as he watches me pile the bags into my car and drive away ALONE with the totally LAME ass excuse that I am going to Salvation Army…for the rest of the day…and not come back until the mall closes!  He is too slow to figure out that no matter how many bags of crap I donate, oddly enough my closet is still stuffed to the brim…hmmmm…so perplexing as to how that happens!  He’s so clueless! HA!  Any hoo…I came to the realization that the bikini that I was saving (I have NO idea now for what event I could have worn a bikini that looks like something that Gidget would have proudly worn…like in the 60’s…but again…I digress!) and that I needed to go and do what every middle age woman HATES to do…go swimsuit shopping!  Just the thought of going swimsuit shopping makes me want to claim that I have an allergy to sunlight and go right back into the comfortable cave that I just peeked my head out of and NEVER come back out again!  YIKES! I am just going to put it out there…swimsuit shopping sucks! It was tolerable when I was young and in shape but now that I am just old and ghastly the act is torturous and just plain mean!  I’m just sayin’…and when I finally make it to the mall (yes people were staring at the pools of sweat that had formed under my armpits and across my forehead to the point that people were swerving out of my way like I had some disease from the Middle Ages (no pun intended on the middle age thing here HA!)) I schlep my way over to the first department store that my old ass sees, and make a beeline towards the swimsuit section…with my head down, sunglasses still on my stupid face giving me a false sense of security…like if I wear them people CANNOT SEE ME…you know like they are Harry Potter’s invisibility cloak in the form of eye goggles they are so ginormous!  Yes…I know…I seriously need therapy at this point…YIKES!  Sooooo anyway…what I am about to share with all of you out in the blogosphere is frightening so just prepare yourselves…OK…so what did I find in my “age appropriate” women’s section?  Why yes…I found what I would call a ”short-i-tard”…you know a tank top sewn to what appears to be some bike short/skort combo that makes you look like you have donned some huge ass hip waders…with the whole boot-to-knee part clearly missing! All I can say is WTF?  I want to tell all of you in blogger land that my mind was reeling with how you could wear such a thing and then how do you…I don’t know…pee in such a contraption?  I know how hard I battle a wet one piece as I try to wiggle it off my body, cussing the whole time, as it rolls and twists slowly down my body as I fight the urge to pee my pants because IT JUST WON’T COME OFF! Kind of makes me flash back to when I was on my first Carnival Cruise Ship (the one that did not break down and hand out bio hazard bags like candy) and went into that itty bitty shower and tried to shave my legs all the while fighting that stupid shower curtain from sticking to my ASS! SO ANNOYING!   BTW…trying to get THAT short-i-tard thing off would be like how a mouse feels when he/she (have to be gender PC here HA!)  is getting the “how you doin’ hug” from a python! Sheesh!  The horror of it all!  The serious straw that broke the “swimsuit clothed” camel’s back was when I looked through the rack and saw…that it comes in different styles…like the top can be a short or long sleeved rash guard!?  Seriously wondering how you cop a squat in that contraption…made me think to NEVER get in a pool with someone wearing that baby because I KNOW that they are clearly peeing in that pool because they CAN’T TAKE IT OFF…like EVER!  Again…so wrong on soooo many levels!  So you all are probably wondering if I ever recovered from this bout of craziness and actually pulled my head out of my ass to seriously buy something…well the answer is a pathetic yes….I bought a really boring black one piece (I leaned towards the safe side telling myself that black is a slimming color) and vowed to only go out in public after dark…in a Mumu…and hand out eye covers to everyone around me, before I take my Mumu (that has an odd resemblance to an Acme tent) off!  Again…just want to put it out there…swimsuit season SUCKS...well unless you are hot and look like a Sports Illustrated/Calvin Klein model and if you are could you please comment and follow this blog so that I know  where to find you?  My poor blood shot eyes cannot take on any more trauma than they already have…if you have been reading my blogs you understand the reality of that last statement…you really do!  J

 

What am I listening to as I rant in this bloggary:  Cruel Summer, by Bananarama.

I Know That I Did NOT Just Download a Justin Bieber Song!

So… I seriously do not have Bieber Fever BUT I  caught myself unknowingly downloading one of his songs the other day and wanted to share with you my reaction…yeah it is not too hard to figure out that I was HORRIFIED to say the least!  OK…so remember when I told you all on the blogosphere that I have a really long trek to take my daughter to school?  Well that stupid  trek is what caused this Bieber embarrassment and I have to say that I blame Sirius satellite radio for not telling me the whole truth about who the singer(s) are when it scrolled the artist across my radio screen and CUT OFF the most vital part that was obviously missed and sorely needed!  Sheesh!  Anyway…let me get back on track here…so during the longest 45 minutes of my life…each…way…stuck in traffic light hell…I… like every other bored American on the planet, listen to the radio.  So when I was listening to some random channel, this really good song comes on and I see that it is a Will.i.am song and it is, as usual, really good.  It has a really good dance beat, and it was stuck in my head throughout the whole day to the point where I caught myself nodding my head from side to side, just like those idiots on the Night at the Roxbury, and when I get home I decide that I have to get on good ol’ trusty iTunes and download it so that I can be one with the Butabi brothers!  HA!  So when I actually look at my playlist (after I have already DOWNLOADED it) and look at the artist, I almost pass out with the realization that I have downloaded a Justin Bieber song!  GAH!  The shock and horror of it all!  Let me just put it out there… I am not a Bieber hater, but I am definitely not a fan, and when I realized what I had done, I had to hang my head in shame and give iTunes the finger for not warning me with something like the wailing siren on Star Trek when the Klingons are attacking or a verbal announcement asking me if I really wanted to…oh…I don’t know download a song from a singer that every girl under the age of 16 cries and faints over!? Geeze! I.Am.An.Idiot!  I was so shamed by my downloading Bieber debacle that  I had to look up the song on the Internet to make sure the iTunes did not lie to me (those bastards) and when my search was finished I  realized that my feelings for Non-Bieber Fever  were shared…like with a lot of people and I have to tell you that there are some seriously mean people out there ( I have to confess that I was laughing my ass off with some of the comments…I can’t lie…that crap was hilarious!) with an OPINION about Justin Bieber!  I had NO clue that sooooo many people found him just as annoying as I do…now I have to give the boy props, he can sing…like a girl that likes the color purple…and kind of dresses like a girl, but again the dude can sing so I guess I should back off right? Sorry Justin if you are bored enough to find this posting on the Internet and get offended, but if you are THAT bored and you are reading this lame bloggary, you have to know that you kind of have that fem thing going on right?  It’s not like it’s a big ol’ Secret and I have just “outed” you to the world!  So let me tell you that  I found all sorts of things about Bieber that were seriously funny  and I strongly suggest that all of you in the blogosphere just do a blind Google search (Google you can thank me later  for plugging you in my widely famous blog HA!) and just read up about Justin Bieber…I found it to be…well… like a train wreck…an entertaining train wreck to say the least…but a wreck that I can now say is safely residing in my recently purchased playlist in my iTunes library.  Bieber is trying to hide from the NWA (ICE CUBE is waiting for him to come out so that they can “chat” a little bit! ) that I downloaded as well  but nevertheless Bieber is waiting for his turn on the random shuffle iTunes Russian Roulette so that I can get my “Butabi On!”

Lesson Learned Here:  ALWAYS read the fine print when you are downloading or reading anything…it could save you a lot of embarrassment and heartburn later on!  Sheesh!

What am I listening to as I rant on this bloggary:  What Is Love?, by Haddaway

 

Embarrassing Things People Do…While Driving!!!

OK…so here’s the deal…how many of you out in the blogosphere think that when you are in a car that you are in some kind of concealed cylinder of darkness and that we are all blind to what you are doing?  You know…like where people cannot see or hear what you are doing inside the confines of your obviously comfortable vehicle that allows you to do things like…I don’t know…go NOSE MINING?!  UGH!  So Gross!  So here’s what happened…I was taking my daughter to school (it’s takes like 45 minutes to go like 15 miles…so I have plenty of time to take in my surroundings and cuss…like a lot… at all of the idiot drivers around me…I digress…AGAIN! ) and when we get to a stop light I kind of look over to the car that has slowly sidled up next to mine and when I do…I see that the dude has his finger up his nose!  He is clearly digging for the lost nugget in the SF gold rush because he has his finger so far up his shnaz that I can barely see his knuckle!  SO GROSS! I turn my head away in disgust, but just like any train wreck, I just can’t seem to help myself from taking one last horrific look and when I do I see him pull his nasty ass finger out of his nose socket and casually wipe it on the steering wheel!  GAH!  Does he not realize that I am basically in the passenger seat of his vehicle while he is busy rooting around for nose nuggets and I CAN SEE HIM!?  I fail to understand how he does not think that it would gross me or anyone else out by doing such things in the confines of his car, let alone wipe his finger on the steering wheel?!   The scene was so disgusting that I felt a little bit of my breakfast threaten to make a reappearance!  Oh and don’t get me started on the fact that after he wiped, he casually looks around to see if anyone has been or was watching him and when he sees me watching him in disgust, he slowly turns his head towards the road, and then  I see him casually rub the excess schnaz juice off on the steering wheel with the palm of his hand! VOMITING HERE!!!!  Made me second guess my ability to shake anyone’s hand EVER AGAIN or driving anyone else’s vehicle!  UGH! As the light turned green, and I hauled ass out of there like I was a professional NASCAR driver, it got me thinking as to what I have seen people do in their cars that is SO NOT RIGHT and here are the top 5:

·         Picking a nasty ass scab off their face so hard that it looks like they are orchestrating a flea circus

·         Shaving…seriously?  If you are that late that you have to shave in your car I would hate to have to work with you and smell that you are too late to shower too!  UGH!  Really?

·         Curling your hair...WOW! That takes some serious multi-tasking talent and I would hate to see that person’s hair after they get finished! Sheesh!

·         Putting on mascara…while the car is moving…having a hard time understanding how…I don’t know… they can SEE where they are going?  Totally ridiculous!

·         Brushing your teeth!  Words cannot describe how that person, with the frothy toothpaste excess oozing out of their mouth, looked like as they spit it into a cup like it was a spittoon!   SO WRONG!

Again…how do these people who were committing these heinous crimes, in the name of hygiene, think that it is OK to do them?  Maybe they think that because they have tinted windows that they are in some sort of Sci-Fi invisible zone that allows them to do these things and not have anyone SEE THEM?  I want to roll down my window and scream “WTF?! I can totally see you!”  But then maybe (like that dill weed nose picker) people just don’t care?  I know that I do…I care that I have to witness these acts as I am innocently perched next to them in my vehicle while they perform these crude things in front of me!  Seriously…they need to get a dictionary and look up the term bathroom…it might change their life…I know that it would change the life of my old ass shock ridden eyes! Sheesh!  Seriously... what the hell?!

What I am listening to as I rant in this bloggary:  My Songs Know What You Did In The Dark,  by Fall Out Boy.   

I Have Fallen and I Can’t Get Up!

For all of you out in the blogosphere who laugh like a mad man when people fall…well then this blog is for you!  I am just going to cut to the chase here…I am one of those sadistic people that laugh when people trip and fall!  I don’t know why I think that it is so funny but I seriously do and as I think back to all of the times that I have done this hideous act of “unkindness” (I promise  you all that after I can breathe again I ask them if they are OK…I really do!)  I wanted to share with you one of the funnier ones that I can remember…it’s a doozy so stay with me here…I guarantee that you will understand my laugh fest at his expense.  OK…so a very long time ago when I was just starting out my engineering career, I worked in a lab integrating software applications where (of course because I am a nerdy engineer) all of my co-workers were and still are all male.   Being the only girl in that type of environment really gave me the thick skin that was required to work in a predominantly male dominating profession and I thank all of you that were asshats to me during that time of my life because it really made me the smart ass that I am today!   Hence this Blogfest!  Any hoo…I was working on a software problem down on the lab floor when one of our PHD’s comes over to request my assistance to work on another software problem at the other end of the lab.  I have to tell you that when a PHD asks you to do something in my company, you drop everything and follow them like they are the Prince of Assland….they feel like they have earned that type of respect so when they ask you to jump you are supposed to obey like some idiot that is clearly beneath their PHDness.  It’s moments like  these where I feel like Walowitz from the Big Bang Theory…you know the one that ONLY has his Masters degree whereas the others clearly are over-achieving Doctor’s in  their area of expertise which is clearly practicing the art of being haughty and overbearing!  Anyway…I digress!  So I, being the great Lemming that I am, quickly get up to follow him to the back of the lab that slightly resembles a teenagers bedroom because there is so much crap half ass put together with all sorts of cables running amok all over the floor!  So…I… being the NICE person that I am…warn the putz that he needs to watch his step.  So what does he do?  He turns around to continue to berate me as he walks backwards because he clearly cannot get his point across by NOT telling this to me to my FACE!  He then proceeds to  trip on a Cat5 cable on the floor, and falls flat on his back… with a thud on the hard tiled floor…letting out a huge girly squeal that reverberates off the walls of the entire lab as he comes crashing down!  So…did I forget to mention that this guy is really tall and crazy  thin?  Yeah…he went down like a ton of bricks!  I immediately placed  my hand over my mouth to stifle my laughter, and asked him through chokes and sputters if he was OK?  He looks up at me with eyes the size of saucers, blinks a little bit and nods his head that’s he’s alright.  Right then and there I just kind of lost it!  I started to laugh so hard that I had to bend over and clench my stomach for support I was laughing so hard!   I ASSURE all of you in blogger land that he was fine!  I did offer my hand to help him up but after my laugh fest at his expense, he clearly was not in any mood to take my charitable hand to help his bony ass up!  The really funny part about all of this was that the lab had tons of engineers in it, and after it happened, people were coming up to me asking ME if I was OK (not the ginormous guy who fell) but yes they were concerned for me…the one that was laughing so hard that she felt the need to contact the Astropants people to endorse their product because she clearly peed her pants during this whole ordeal and to her surprise NO leaks!  HA!  In my defense, I did try to inquire to his well being after he was presented the Oscar for the most dramatic “FALL of the Year” award but oddly enough he wasn’t speaking to me?  Huh?  So perplexed here as to why?!  Just kidding…but now everyone thinks that I am some sort of sadist freak that laughs when people get hurt…I’m really not...but I have to admit that there is just something in me that laughs when people go down for the count!  To me when a person bites the big one it’s just hilarious.  I choke it up to the crazed and  "OH F*"look on their face as the go down.  PRICELESS!  Maybe I am a sadistic fool that clearly needs therapy to identify “The Event” that clearly made me this way…but all I can say is that YouTube is full of videos of stupid people doing ridiculous crap…so I can’t be alone can I?  All of you out in the blogosphere need to let me know what you think here…I am hoping again that I am not alone here on my little “laugh my ass of at your expense” island!  

What am I listening to as I blog this rant:  Poker Face, by Lady GaGa 

You Got A Little Bit Of Somethin’, Somethin’, Going On Right There….

Hey people out in the blogosphere…I am still on business travel and just in case you were wondering if I had changed my mind about traveling….ummmm yeah…I haven’t…it still Sucks ASS but again, while I was wallowing in my misery, I was witness to some pretty funny crap that I just wanted to share with you all in the blogosphere so here you go!  So…let’s just set the stage here…I am in this pretty professional business meeting (which is kind of funny that I am in a professional meeting because if you knew me you would be laughing your ass off at the vision but again…I digress) and we finally (after what seemed like the longest morning of my life) decide to break for lunch.  Any hoo…when we come back from lunch one of my colleagues comes up to talk to me and when he opens his mouth I see this brown thing stuck to his teeth! OK so this thing was like HUGE and it covered up the majority of his front tooth so at times he looked like someone had socked him in the face and knocked his teeth right out of his face!  You know how at Halloween if you wanted to look like some homeless person or possibly some hick named Skeeter you would wipe that black wax stick on your teeth?  Imagine that scene…at a very professional meeting…and this is one of your nicest colleagues EVER! OMG! I have NO idea what to do here! It takes every ounce of self-control to NOT start laughing hysterically because it was like moving around as he was talking like it was on auto pilot without a clear destination for landing…as in it needed to land anywhere but stuck to his tooth!  I finally had to decree a pee emergency and proceeded to run to the ladies so that I could hole up in a stall and laugh hysterically!  If you were in the ladies room with me, you were probably scared shit less (no pun intended) by me running in there like a pack of etiquette wolves were attacking me, only to hear me moments later, laughing my ass off (apparently there is a really funny blond joke scribbled on the wall just for my entertainment you are thinking) in the confines of my stall!   Any way…so the real question to all of you out in the blogosphere is…what is the proper etiquette for these types of embarrassing moments?  Should I have pointed out (in a room full of his peers and colleagues) that he basically had a big ass brown turd like thing stuck to his tooth so that whenever he talked he reminded me of those backward ass country bubba’s that are spoofed on HBO by the Wayan’s brothers?   I am always the innocent witness to these types of “natural body disasters” in my world and how do I handle it?  Well…like a mature adult of course…NOT!  What DO I do?  I ALWAYS wind up conjuring up some type of tragic emergency so that I can flee the scene and hope that someone else has the balls to tell the person that they have any one of the following:

·         A nose cookie/nugget

·         Their fly is down

·         There is TP stuck in their waistline that is trailing down the back of their pants

·         Mascara running down their face so that they resemble Marilyn Manson on a good day

·         A piece of random skin that is flapping around on their face so fast that I believe that it's trying to signal “I Surrender” to the enemy which is apparently me!

·         A severe cookie mustache that would make cookie monster proud

And last but not least what do you say to the guy sitting next to you in a crowded restaurant that gets up to leave and  puts his junk in your face as he stands up and futzes around with his wallet when he tries to pay the bill?!   Seriously does the guy not know that his "business" is all up in mine?  OMG!  So wrong on sooooooo many levels…so again…I ask all of you in the blogosphere…what do you do in these situations?  Are you a “friend” and point out these embarrassing things or do you just flee the scene like you just shoplifted a Slurpee at 7-Eleven?  Please comment to let me know what to do here because one of my colleagues is still probably running around lookin’ like one of those mullet stylin’ bubba’s from the taxidermy channel!  That’s channel "1 O so wrong" for all of you that are wondering… ;)

What am I listening to as I blog this embarrassing rant:  Overexposed, by Maroon 5

On Cloud Nine…Yeah Not So Much..Airport's Suck!

OK people out in blogger land…here is the deal…I have to say that life is stressful enough but when you add travel on top of it …life pretty much BLOWS!  So first off let me just rant about how  getting up (at the butt crack of dawn) sets the day off in suck mode to begin with and then add on top of that a very upset toddler (she has to stay home with her time challenged dad who is doomed to make her look like some deranged version of Pippy Longstocking by the time she finally makes it to school…she knows this is her fate… hence the melt down!), getting in to your husband’s truck only to find that it is yet AGAIN on FUMES, and then add the (of course because this is my luck today) the traffic from hell, I just want to turn right back around and go right the F* back home!  So when I finally make it to the airport I have totally forgotten that it is the day after Easter and everyone and their mother (literally…it’s Easter) is traveling back to where they clearly hatched from so the lines are extremely long and painful…again…just want to tell my manager that I have food poisoning and had to… oh I don’t know…go to the ER to get treated for a sucking chest wound or do something clearly less painful because anything is better than this disaster area at this point!  Any hoo…my only saving grace with all of the commotion was that I got to people watch and observe how other people handle the great and pleasurable air port TSA line!  It was pretty entertaining…first off let me tell you that children and parents (no matter what the age) should NEVER travel together EVER!  I witnessed more yelling, screaming, and crying (those were the parents BTW) than when we took our family to Disneyland!  Oh…you all in blogger land are like “Disney is the happiest place on earth..” I beg to differ…I witnessed more parents threatening all sorts of bodily harm to their offspring during that  "wish upon a star" vacation and don’t get me even started on the crying!  Holy Crap!  I saw more children upset there than when I had to take my daughter to get her Swine Flu Virus vaccine at the local pediatricians office!  Sorry Disney if you are reading this, but you  might want to find another Mission Statement…thinking that you might want to join forces with the Air Lines and come up with a better one because clearly both of you need to come up with a better way to make us happy because let's face it...we are miserable here people!  OK enough about crying parents…I also have to add that when people give you advice to dress comfortably when you travel you should really ask them for some clear guidelines because let me tell you that rule can be interpreted in many grotesque ways!  First of all…I am clearly NOT a fan of wearing your PJ’s out in public but let me tell you how many people I saw not only wearing their pajama’s but also carrying around their pillows like this was some massive sadistic slumber party!  I have to tell you that if this was my slumber party my  mother would have been screeching for everyone to get the F* OUT!  It would be so loud that everyone would flee the building like it was on fire…oh BTW  I would be leading that pack…have been a witness/target to the banshee screaming and it is so NOT pretty!  Fleeing is the best option  here!  Also…what is the deal with people wearing yoga/skin tight spandex pants and (again a rant about spandex here) tight fitting sports tops? From the looks of the rolls that were erupting from the seams those babies have clearly not seen the gym or a yoga class in ages so why try to act the part?! I fail to believe that being crammed into a tube like a sausage is considered comfortable!?  My poor eyes are in shock from what they were forced to endure…and last but not least, why oh why do people think that it is OK to wear clothing that is clearly not age appropriate?  Like I don’t know…. why can’t  people (both young and old) refrain from donning daisy dukes and crop tops at the airport?!  True statement people…witnessed it this morning!  Again…I am having a hard time understanding how any of these outfits scream COMFORT?!  I just don’t get it…maybe I am getting old and this is normal?!  I am hoping not…I am hoping that it is everyone else and not me…those are famous last words from someone that is clearly in denial…like me!  Sheesh!  I am hoping the flight back will be better…it’s has to get better right?  Again famous last words…

What am I listening to while I rant from thousands of feet up in the air:  Airplanes, by B.o.B (featuring Hayley Williams of Paramore)