Me, Myself, and the Voices in My Head

A place to ramble and maybe make some sense about a thing or two.

Archive for the category “Humor”

Boycotted yesterday and might not post today

Oh….well….yeah….  That is a sort of stupid title since I do have to post something so people can see it.

Doesn’t matter.  I spent yesterday which, which was Fathers’ Day here in America, with Husband and Youngest Son and didn’t feel the need to post.  Plus, my biological father is a complete and total waste of air that could be used for something productive.  Like horrible balloon-animal thingys that clowns make.  He’s refused to acknowledge that I exist in over 20 years so *pppbbhhhtt* on him!

And today is a slow day at best.  I’m not complaining.  I could use a nice slow day to be able to relax and think about things that have been and will be happening.  Plus, I’m making sure that Youngest Son is completing his chores and assignments as expected.  In the past I was always deployed away from home in the summer and he could get away with not doing things because by the time Husband got home from work he’d be too tired to notice something skipped.  Youngest Son and I have had a little talk about needing to mature and learning to do things around the house that will help him when he’s out on his own in the future.

I might post again tonight and I might not.  The voices are arguing over who should write, about what should be written, and whether it’s worth writing anything at all now.  I have to remind them that this whole thing was their idea so they can’t jump-ship on me now.  Only six months to go with this project and now they realize it’s not as easy as I told them it would be.

And now if you’ll excuse me….  I have to dislodge the family cat from the only air duct in the room and she’s hogging all of the cool air conditioning.  It’s hard to write when you’re wiping sweat (and cat fur) out of your eyes.

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This is a post

See it?  Okay.  I’m done.  Daily post completed.

No….you’re not getting more.  Well, not any more today, that is.  Had a fairly good to fairly crappy day and just don’t want to fiddle with this right now.

Go on.  Clear off!  Go do something constructive for a change….

Bloaty ate too much pizza….

I know.  It’s my own fault.  Was planning to cook dinner for the family tonight.  But, a tempting email came through the inbox and I just couldn’t help myself.

Domino’s Pizza offering 50% off any pizza if you order online now through Sunday night.

I remember when Domino’s Pizza was called the “Disk of Death” and other not-too-polite names.  Domino’s was awful.  Didn’t matter which one you ordered from — you were guaranteed a round thing resembling a crust with something on the top that you hoped was what you actually ordered, covered in a slime of cheese and floating on what grease hadn’t already soaked through the bottom of the box.

Now, however, they’ve gotten a lot better.  And healthier, if you can consider pizza healthy.

So, each of us decided to order a pizza since they were so cheap.  Youngest Son got a pepperoni abomination of some sort that could clog your arteries just by looking at the amount of meat and grease on it.  Husband made up a pizza he would like to have because nothing on the menu ever totally agrees with his middle-age tummy anymore.  And I ordered a Hawaiian pizza because I love ham and pineapple together.  We each made sure to get the super-thin crust pizzas so we wouldn’t feel nauseated for the next few days.  And by each ordering to our own tastes, we could ensure that we got what we wanted.  We each got enough of what we wanted and if there was any leftover it could be stored in the refrigerator for lunch tomorrow.

Yeah….right….

Only Youngest Son, who normally scarfs down anything not nailed to the table, didn’t finish his.  Husband and I both ate ourselves silly and soon realized we had none left for tomorrow.  It was good, though.  We both were very pleased with our selections and they were well-made and tasted excellent.

It’s just now, about five hours after eating it that the bloaty-ness sinks in….or out….or whatever it does.  It’s hot and humid outside and having not listened to my brain when it was trying to tell me that my stomach might actually have a message for me other than “Aren’t you going to eat the rest of that?” is the result I’m suffering now.  I don’t want to see another pizza for a while.  I don’t even want to look at the boxes ours came in tonight.  They’re like little talismans of shame to remind us of our sins.

I think I’ll have some milk and go to bed.  Maybe I’ll wake up and it’s all a bad dream.  Or, more likely, I’ll have pizza-dreams all night (the really weird ones about which every therapist hopes to sell a best-selling book) and wake up even hungrier than usual in the morning.

“Dallas” is still dull as dishwater….

Oh, the 1980s.  When not everyone could have cable television and even if you did, you didn’t have 800+ channels of crap from which to choose your evening’s entertainment.  Back then, people actually made plans around their favorite television shows.  Well, unless they were wealthy enough to own a VHS or BETA video recording machine to record a show for them, commercials and all.  No DVRs.  No commercial skips.  Watch it when it airs or wait until rerun season and hope the episode you missed is there.

I had to explain all of that to Youngest Son tonight as Husband sat on the couch (and for over an hour did NOT fall asleep!) and watched the new series of Dallas on TNT.  He was a big fan of the show back in the 1980s and wanted to see how stupid….I mean….good the modernized show would be.  Of course, when you get the old actors on there playing their old roles, you can’t help but remember what the show used to be and wonder if they can actually get it to be that good (or bad) again.

Now, I didn’t watch Dallas when it was on in the 1980s.  The only episodes I ever watched were when J.R. was shot (because, who didn’t watch that one?) and the one when Southfork burned.  That episode I was somewhat sort-of forced to watch because I was at a sleepover at a friend’s house and all of the other girls loved Dallas but I had no idea who anyone was other than J.R. and Bobby.  Oh, and I did see the episode when Bobby comes back in the shower — but that was a rerun many, many years after it originally aired.

So, I’m watching the show with Husband and it’s as goofy as ever.  Youngest Son asked, “Is this a male soap opera?”

Yes, Son.  Yes it is.

Nighttime soap operas like Dallas, Dynasty, and Falcon Crest were heavily watched by women but they were designed to get the men-folk into the sittin’ room to watch as well.  They weren’t as silly as the daytime soaps, but you still knew that every scene had to have someone looking off into the distance as if they’re thinking, “Did that cat pee in the litterbox?” (it’s an acting trick) while the camera either gets closer or pulls back before the scene changes.  Or before a commercial came on.  Or before another ad for the same show you were watching came on to preview the next week’s episode.  As if you’d miss it….

So, yeah, I’m not particularly thrilled with the new version of the old show.  I liked how they tried to keep the intro credits the same with the music and scenes of Dallas (Texas).  But, a neat intro does not a great show make.  I might give it a few more episodes before I totally write it off as a bad job.  Seeing Larry Hagman and Patrick Duffy talking about what Miss Ellie did or didn’t want with her will is still interesting.  Goofy, but interesting.

I wanna hollar the loud, funny words!!!

Good grief.  Another Wednesday evening spent watching American Diggers on Spike TV.  Why do I torture myself so?

Tonight they went to St. Augustine, Florida and down in the bayou area of Louisiana.  There were some neat relics found and I do have to give them kudos for finding a $20 double eagle, St. Gaudens’ design gold coin.  They’re rare and worth a LOT of money these days.

I could probably enjoy the show if it weren’t for one thing — the owner/host/announcer/blowhard Ric Savage.  He gives history and information about the places they go and the things they find as if he’s rehearsed whatever the production team’s researcher has pulled off the Internet.  He yells at the camera during the entire show and heaven help you if your television is accidentally turned-up a bit loud and he finds something he thinks is wonderful ’cause you’re going to hear him scream about it.  And not just any scream — the well-rehearsed scream that comes from professional wrestlers.

He fully admits that he used to be a professional wrestler (I still don’t remember ever seeing him in a match).  I once had some “professional” wrestlers (they got paid but weren’t on any of the big circuits) come into our store years ago and they talked about how they had to practice their “speeches” that they’d give after every match and there were classes on how to yell at the camera.  They also admitted that the hardest thing to do was to keep from laughing when their partner/friend/ally/opponent/enemy/whatever said something incredibly stupid.  That’s why when you watch professional wrestling, especially from the 1980s-1990s, you’ll see people gritting their teeth or sucking in their cheeks.  They’re not trying to look mean and vicious.  They’re just trying to not blow their cover as an actor.

And Ric’s got it down to a science.  Every time he yells he throws his arms up in the air and sticks his gut out with a loud howl.  And it’s usually a “boo-yah” or “woo-hoo” followed by something either unintelligible or the name of the place where they’re digging.  You can predict where every scream is going to happen in a show and they conveniently edit it so that you have to hear it multiple times.

Sadly, every time I watch the show I’m reminded of another show.  One that many people watched over the years and caused many parents to complain.  There’s an episode of the old Ren & Stimpy Show called “Mad Dog Höek” where the guys have just finished a wrestling match and both the winners and losers get a chance to make their cases.  It’s hysterical and I end up quoting it at one point during the show or another because it fits so perfectly.

And now, for your viewing pleasure, I give you the Ending Speech Scene from “Mad Dog Höek” — try to watch American Diggers and not think of this.  I dare you.

7 Ps Rule needs to include “Patience”

You know the 7 Ps Rule, right?  If you were in the military, I’m fairly certain that you’ve heard it multiple times.  If you teach school, you most likely had to memorize it during your Master’s degree classes (except they usually did the 6 Ps to omit the one “questionable” word).  And if you ever need to remember how to prepare for something, it’s one of the best rules to keep in mind.

Proper Prior Planning Prevents Piss-Poor Performance.

Yes, I know there are many different variants on this mnemonic device.  But, this is the one I learned first both from sitting through graduate-level courses when my parents were getting their Master’s/Specialist’s in Education degrees and by having military members in my family.  Over the years, it’s served me well.

However, today Youngest Son needs to add the word “Patience.”  More grammatically correct, it should be “Patient” as in “Patient Proper Planning Prevents Poor Performance” (deleted the objectionable word since he’s still not allowed to swear).  In a few weeks he’ll be celebrating his birthday and we’ve agreed to allow him to invite over his closest friends for a pizza party and then for them to go to the movies that evening.  The female guests will have to be picked up by their parents after the movie while the male guests can come to our house for a sleepover.  He’s been texting all of his friends today and bugging me for specific details, such as start time, menu, etc.

He’s forgotten that his father and I have not finalized any plans.  He’s also forgotten that he’s still grounded at the moment and if he doesn’t earn his privileges back in time there won’t be a birthday party.  His friends are all trying to arrange their schedules and make suggestions for things to do and ingredients for the pizzas but we don’t have anything confirmed at the moment.  Big shock for him and his buddies if it’s all for nothing!

I admire his desire to be sure to plan early enough in advance so that all of his friends have the opportunity to check with their parents/families to ensure if they’d be able to attend.  I’m just not happy that he’s getting their expectations up for something that may or may not happen.  Plus, the parents also won’t be very happy if they change their schedules around to accommodate something that isn’t happening.

Oh well.  Not much I can do about it at the moment.  I told him to be sure to let everyone know that nothing has been confirmed yet and that he’s just checking to see if they would be able to attend.  That way, we can also plan for how much food and how many tickets we’ll need to buy.

We’ll see what happens.

Last episodes of “American Stuffers”

Yes.  It is with a heavy heart and a hanging head that I admit that today I actually watched the American Stuffers episodes on Animal Planet.

You have to understand, though.  The satellite signals on the movie channels were spotty and there was nothing on network television worth watching.  Plus — and honestly, no disrespect to the Ross Family and their employees — but the show is just like a really bad car wreck.  You know you shouldn’t look but once you do you just can’t turn away from it.

I didn’t watch all of the episodes today.  I watched “The Dog Named Precious,” “The Cat Without a Nose,” “The Hairless Dog,” and “A Tornado Hits Romance.”  I will say that I’m very glad Daniel was able to put the cat’s nose back on before its owner came to pick it up (and no one noticed the problem).  The skin coming off of the Chinese Crested (which the owner proudly stated she’d paid $250 as a puppy) though was a close one.  And her having the dog’s testicles removed to have sperm harvested by a company in Washington just had me rolling on the floor.  Yeah, I’m not a biology major, but I can’t imagine them living in there for very long, much less long enough to ship them to Washington from Texas (where they drove from to get the dog freeze-dried).

The pet chicken being freeze-dried, though, had me baffled.  I know people keep chickens as pets.  I have friends that have had good and bad things come from doing that.  But if the chicken dies on its own, I’d be thinking about disposing of it correctly, not how it’s going to look in the center of the dinner table as a centerpiece.  Okay, the lady with the chicken actually said she was going to decorate her chicken coops with all of her pet chickens after they die and she has them freeze-dried.  And she named all of them after characters from Jersey Shore.  So, take from that what you want.

I can say that I was moved by the lady who had her Yorkie for 14 years and met the crew from Xtreme Taxidermy at the Big Buck Classic Hunters’ Convention (where most of the other attendees were grossed-out by the pets on display).  She’d had a lot of loss in her life and having her dog preserved as a way to help her cope may not be for me but I sure hope it helps her.  Plus, she wants the dog buried with her when she passes away.  Sadly, the dog will look better longer than she will, but at least they’ll be together.

And I also have to admit that the story about the dog that had been skinned by another taxidermist and left the crew of the shop with a puzzle on how to make him look good again was interesting.  Mostly because they were very careful to not tell the lady who brought in the dog how badly butchered the job the previous taxidermist did.  I was glad to see that they were able to take that idiot’s mistakes and fix it so the lady was happy.  Now I just hope she doesn’t watch the episode and see exactly what was done to her dog.

So, yeah, I let the redneck in me have a few laughs and sat agog at some of the things said/done on the show.  There aren’t any future episodes coming (it was cancelled), but Romance, Arkansas isn’t too terribly far from my family’s old stomping grounds.  I’m pretty sure I could find it if I felt the need.

Leave the bear alone you hillbillies!!

All day I have been listening to the local police scanner.  I keep it on because if there’s an emergency that isn’t being broadcast on the local news channels, I can usually get some information from the scanner.  Plus after years of having worked as an Emergency Medical Technician (EMT) and disaster preparedness/response person, I’m just addicted to it.

So today’s noteworthy broadcasts have been about a small black bear that has wandered into town.  It’s not hurt anyone; it’s not gone into the residential areas; and it’s trying to find its way back to the woods.  At first someone thought it was a dog when it was near a residential area but it stayed over by the local airport (not an overly busy one).  It has been wandering around and I’m not worried about it coming over into the area where I live because it would have to cross a large Interstate highway plus the busy traffic at the intersection that crosses over it.  The state conservation agents have been working with the county law enforcement to track the bear and make sure that it keeps heading towards the woods.

Sadly, though, all the yokels in town have been coming out in droves to see it — especially after the story was aired on the local news.  Now the police are being called by the businesses in the area next to the Interstate highway because people keep trying to get closer and closer to the bear so they can take pictures of it.  Some have brought their dogs with them, like the conservation agents need that little bit of “help” with a bear that really doesn’t want to be where it is in the first place.

Right now it’s up a tree next to the local Pizza Hut.  It wanders between one of the banks, the Pizza Hut, a furniture store, and a Captain D’s restaurant.  I’m sure it smells plenty of trash from that area it would love to eat.  Hopefully the conservation and law enforcement agents will get rid of the crowd before the bear hurts itself.  The poor thing just wants to get back to its home (with a snack to-go if it can grab one).

Here’s an idea — if you want to see a close-up photo of a bear, pick up a book!  If you want to see a bear in person, go to a zoo!  If you see a bear in the wild, then lucky you — but for cryin’ out loud, stop trying to get in its way!

Well….at least now there’s something else to listen to.  Some drunken fool is chugging a Mountain Dew and whiskey outside a local grocery store and has pushed carts into the major 4-way intersection of town.  Now that sounds more like an average night.

ZZZzzzzzz….

Best of all he (Odin) liked to sleep.  Sleeping was a very important activity for him.  He liked to sleep for longish periods, great swathes of time.  Merely sleeping overnight was not taking the business seriously.  He enjoyed a good night’s sleep and wouldn’t miss one for the world, but found it as anything halfway near enough.  He liked to be asleep by half-past eleven in the morning if possible, and if that should come directly after a nice leisurely lie-in then so much the better.  A little light breakfast and a quick trip to the bathroom while fresh linen was applied to his bed is really all the activity he liked to undertake, and he took care that it didn’t jaunt the sleepiness out of him and disturb his afternoon of napping.  Sometimes he was able to spend an entire week asleep, and this he regarded as a good snooze.  He had also slept through the whole of 1986 and hadn’t missed it.  – Douglas Adams, The Long, Dark Tea-Time of the Soul

It’s a long weekend and I’ve enjoyed quite a nice, long nap today.  I have to sincerely thank Husband and Youngest Son for allowing me to sleep-in this morning.  Well, when I say “sleep-in” I mean that I did get up at my usual time to take my medications and let the dogs go outside for “walkies.”  But, while they went to yard sales I was allowed to crawl back into bed and sleep away a lot of the stresses from this past week.  I don’t usually do that, but today it was imperative that I do so.  Plus, weird dreams when I’m stressed-out happen and if only I could have filmed it.  I would have made a great B-movie (or even worse).

Towel and Star Wars Day — Celebrate both!

No new news on the job front.  My Cadre Manager was supposed to get back in touch with my ERO counselor but that didn’t happen.  I have been given lots of really good advice and had friends recommend a lot of options.  I’m keeping everything open at the moment.  I’ll continue fighting for what’s best for my family and me.

So, since there’s really nothing new, I’ll just wish everyone a Happy Towel Day and Happy Star Wars Day.  Towel Day is for fans of Douglas Adams and his “Hitchhikers’ Guide to the Galaxy Trilogy” (all six books) and in memory of his death on this date in 2001.  Star Wars Day marks the anniversary of the premiere of Star Wars: Episode IV, A New Hope in 1977.  35 years ago….wow, I feel old.

I’ve lost track of how many times I’ve read Douglas’ books (not just the H2G2 series) as well as listened to the radio shows, audiobooks, and watched the movies.  Douglas Adams also worked on episodes of Doctor Who and Monty Python’s Flying Circus.  You can tell I’m a big fan, huh?

I’ve lost track of how many times I’ve seen the original trilogy of Star Wars.  I even have the theatrical releases on DVD because I can’t stand watching all of the added on stuff from 1997.  I remember seeing the movies in the theater, when that was the only option, and then recording them off HBO onto our Betamax player (yes, I really am that old) and watching them every day after school.

Hey, when your dad is the principal of your school, you don’t hang out with a lot of people, and you’re focused on keeping your grades high you find yourself as one of the biggest geeks doing what geeks do best — reciting movie lines.  After I’d seen each of the original three over 500 times each, I quit counting.  I still have no idea how many times I’ve seen them all.  In college I could win bets by having people play a part of the soundtrack and begin to act and recite the exact scene just based on the music!  Okay, it was only good for winning bar bets and has never helped me in any sort of career, but it was fun all the same!

So all you hoopy froods, get your towels and grab a bottle of Old Janx Spirit (from H2G2 or SW, your choice) and head out to Millyways!

Let us think the unthinkable, let us do the undoable, let us prepare to grapple with the ineffable itself, and see if we may not eff it after all. — Douglas Adams

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