Skilleroic

It's midnight and I'm doing what most people are doing at midnight; sleeping.  Granted, I'm sleeping on the sofa in my den because Bo is sick (again) and I don't want to catch whatever he might have. I am awakened by a banging on the door. Immediately, the dogs go batshit crazy;  barking, jumping on the door, etc.  At first I think they just heard a dog bark outside because WHO THE FUCK POUNDS ON YOUR DOOR AT MIDNIGHT?  An excellent question which, as I see a silhouette in my window, is immediately followed by an even better question. WHAT KIND OF RAGING DOUCHEBAG WITH A DEATH WISH POUNDS ON YOUR DOOR AT MIDNIGHT DRESSED AS FUCKING SERIAL KILLER JASON FROM FRIDAY THE 13th?

It is close to Halloween but still the facts are; midnight, lights off in house, STRANGER DRESSED AS SERIAL KILLER banging on the door. A smarter person would have called the cops immediately. I went to the dining room window for a better look. There he stands, Jason, in all his glory (or gory, rather). I missed an important item when I saw his silhouette in my door. HE'S CARRYING A FUCKING BLOODY KNIFE!  He looked something like this:

Hey!  I'm here for the party!

We stare at each other through the window. I'm trying to decide whether to run to the phone or the gun. One would think that if the man at the door happened to not be a serial killer, now would be the time to realize you just woke up the lady in the pajamas, maybe you should take off the fucking bloody ski mask and do some splaining. Not this guy. He just stares at me through bloody eye holes.

Enter Bo, stage left...Actually, I went upstairs, woke him up and DRAGGED him downstairs to take care of this!  Any normal person would have taken off by now, but our serial killer is hanging tough, still waiting on me to open the door. I guess he had a hard night of breaking into houses and decided it's time someone just offered herself up to him.

Bo is fresh off a double dose of NyQuil, so he stumbles into the room like a centipede missing 98 legs. I forgot about the gun, so I'm on to plan B. B means Bo.  Push Bo into serial killer, grab Nitro, run out the front door and hope I'm not in that Jason vs. Freddie movie.

As I prepare for flight (I've got Nitro's leash, a bag of treats, and his favorite toy), Bo engages Jason in conversation. He is sure that we are having a Halloween party tonight. The evidence of our Halloween party is all over the place; the dark house, two cars in the driveway, barking dogs, two disheveled people in pajamas. Finally, they agree there is no party here. Jason wants to know if there is another party on our street. I look at Bo standing there in his underwear, dosed up on cold meds and decide it's up to me to end this once and for all.  I give the nice young man in the costume the address of someone I can't stand. I assure him they have the same costume party every year. That's got to be the one he is looking for...

Subway the condom of fastfood?

If your first question when someone mentions they are eating at Subway is "are you dieting", it means one of two things. 1) Subway has been successful in their campaign to convince consumers they are the diet food of the fast food industry or 2) Subway is half-assed fast food.

Ever since Subway literally rolled Jared's formerly fat ass out as their spokesperson, they have been known as the healthy fast food.  They post the nutritional value of their offerings everywhere from the counter where you order to the napkins you use to wipe the fat free Ranch drippings from your mouth.  They have something for all dieters; low fat, low sugar, low carb, low calorie. It's a brilliant marketing campaign. How does any of this tripe support my hypothesis?  Here goes...

Mmmmm, Nitrates!

Have you ever looked at a Subway tomato?  They are usually pale and tasteless. For most people concerned about the food they put in their body, lunchmeat is a no no. It's full of salt, sugar, wheat and sodium Nitrate. So, you sit down with your low fat (code for high sugar) sandwich and feed your incipient type two diabetes as well as any number of tumors just waiting for a hospitable environment in which to grow. Kind of like Russian Roulette with extra bullets, isn't it?  If your food can kill you, shouldn't you at least enjoy it?  Why take the half assed approach when you can go whole hog, so to speak?

Did somebody call for a heart attack?

If you are going to be bad, be really bad!  Why eat tasteless shit that will kill you a tiny bit slower when you can double down?  Who can't get behind KFC's intoxicating combination of fried chicken, cheese, bacon, and mayo?  Tasteless it's not.  I hope the genius who threw away the bun to add extra chicken is a wealthy man. Lets face it, only a man could come up with this wonder.


How does this tie in with condoms?  Did I just use the condom title to draw you in (and possibly raise your ire)?  Not at all!  Men have long complained that condoms take most of the feeling out of sex. They aren't talking about emotion. While condoms do lower the odds of an unwanted pregnancy, they aren't 100% reliable for preventing anything. Whether it is operator error (these are the dumbasses who fuck up & add more dumb kids to the world) or a mistake at the condom factory, even while using condoms you still get pregnancies and STDs while lowering enjoyment. Why eat at Subway when you could have the heart attack at KFC?

Disney: the great Satan? Or 5 things to be aware of when visiting Disney

                                                   




Having just spent a miserable five days at Disney, I feel qualified to answer this question with a resounding YES!   Here are five things to know before you head out to Disney World.

1.  COFFEE (or lack thereof):  There is no, I repeat NO good coffee at Disney World!  I'm not a coffee snob but if I'm to be inundated by children and cartoon characters all day, I need decent coffee in order to survive. Most of the resorts offer unlimited cups of Nescafé. I assume Nescafé is a sponsor of Disney. With the exception of Epcot, you will rarely find coffee that is not Nescafé so plan accordingly.

2.  BUFFETS:  if you are a fan of buffets you are in luck. If not, good luck avoiding buffet "dining".  With the exception of Las Vegas in the 90's, I've never seen so many buffets. All of which seem to have Mac & cheese...

3.  ENDLESS BUS RIDES:  Be ready to spend a lot of time on the bus. My husband points out that it's better than trying to find a parking place. I have a hard time agreeing when I'm standing next to a child that just shit itself. Most of the bus rides last between 15-30 minutes. During your captivity, you will be subjected to a barrage of information on where to spend more money. Which brings me to number four on our list...

4.  MERCILESS MERCHANDISING:  Did you see a particular piece of Disney merchandise you neglected to buy?  Never fear, you will see it OVER AND OVER AND OVER AGAIN!  Not only do the parks & resorts sell every Disney item you can imagine (and some you never saw coming)  you have an "opportunity" to buy them after each ride. You exit through a store with the theme of whatever ride you are leaving. Take special note that Disney purchased the rights to Star Wars. The cross merchandising is actually creepy.

5.  FAT PEOPLE ON SCOOTERS:  While at Disney, you will walk...a lot!  This is a good thing. Most people don't get enough exercise. Most people in the United States are overweight. Might this be a vacation where some of these fatties get moving?  Of course not!  Enter, the scooter!  While these should be used for people who actually need it, sadly this is not the case. You end up with a bunch of fat people bumbling around on scooters & getting in the way. Even on scooters, they are slow!

I feel this list is complete but my husband asked me to add one thing. Do not dress to impress because no one else does!

BloodyMaryland

According to gogo inflight wifi, I'm blogging from 35,000 feet.  I'm also blogging with Bloody Mary number #2.  Why am I only on my 2nd drink you might ask?  Well, the beverage truck didn't make it. We waited for it!  Oh how we waited!  To no avail!  As there is only so much ice to go around, we did it the old fashioned way and I don't mean women & children first!  I also don't mean blowjobs for ice. That would never work as the flight attendants are all women.  The original old fashioned way, it went to the highest bidders. I was lucky that my husband, in his infinite wisdom, made sure I am in first class this trip. The reason why is another blog post. Let's just say squished in coach doesn't make for a happy marriage. He also wanted to make sure I didn't bail at the last minute because...wait for it...we are spending the next five days in Disney World!  If you know me, you know that I would rather have a root canal sans pain meds than be around one child.  How in the hell am I winging my way towards the happiest place on earth?  It gets worse or better depending on if you like me or not. My mother-in-law decided that for her birthday we needed to add to the misery in the world by taking a family trip!  She's almost 70, so I figured I could suck it up & do a weekend trip. Oh no!  Not miserable enough!  No, we have to hit up Disney World with the mother-in-law, the step father, the step brother, his wife, & their two evil children who have been on ADHD meds since they were birthed!  As an aside, the step brother's wife got new tits, so I'm sure there will be an unveiling (if I can get a pic, consider it posted)!  I know neither the ages nor the names of the two kids. One thing of which I'm sure, they are both boys.

Bo had to be in Orlando a week before me. He knew I would take any excuse to get out of this trip. He also knows me well enough to know I an unable to turn down free alcohol.  Here I sit...



                                                   

Vibratorship

I still can't believe they make these!

I will admit to not being the most tech savvy person in the world.  What can I say?  I'm old and I have an English degree.  Neither of which is conducive to mastering technology.  On the advice of a friend, I started blogging.  Such a gentle push: "If you don't stop sending me inane text messages every day, I will block you"!  Anyway, that is neither here nor there.  So, I start blogging.  I figure no one reads but at least it's out of my brain and I can go on with my day!

Enter Blogspot.  I AM of the instant gratification generation.  I've got a gmail account.  I can be blogging in five minutes!  I realize that I need to add pictures.  A picture is worth 1000 words or some such bullshit.  I get all the google stuff confused.  I open a Google+ account.  I find Facebook and Twitter very easy but for some reason Google+ confuses and annoys me.  I don't dwell on it.  I create my account and forget about it.  NOW, I can upload photos to my blog.  How are the two related you might ask?  I don't know but at the time I thought I needed Google+ to upload pics from my phone to my blog.  I hope that I was drinking at the time but I'm pretty sure I'm just stupid.

This happens to coincide with a friend's milestone birthday.  This friend, who we will call Bashley, has coulrophobia.  Do you know what this is?  Neither did I.  It's a fancy name for clown phobia.  I've always found clowns to be pretty creepy.  I'm pretty sure that most people who work in the clown industry are either pedophiles, drug addicts, or serial killers (John Wayne Gacy).  Anyway, it's Bashley's birthday and she makes the stupid stupid mistake of admitting to a bit of coulrophobia.  I do what any friend would do.  I start sending her pictures of clowns.  I start slow with a good looking clown stripper and end with John Wayne Gacy in a clown suit.  Bashley is kind of pissed.  Mission accomplished, right?  Wrong!  I decide to take it to the next level.

Who knew they really do make a clown vibrator?!  I'm kind of impressed!  I guess I need to amend my statement that you can make a magnet or bong out of anything to you can make a vibrator, magnet or bong out of anything.  Unfortunately, I don't discover the clown vibrator until it is to late to actually give it to Bashley as her birthday gift.  It's on back order.  She will get it for Christmas.

What do Google+ and the clown vibrator have to do with each other?  In most instances, nothing at all.  Unfortunately, I saved the picture of the clown vibrator to my phone.  I wanted to be able to torture Bashley with it until I gave her the real thing at Christmas.  Sort of as a warm up to the main course.  Through sheer dumbassery I managed to not only save the picture to my phone but it also posted on my Google+ account for all to see!  I didn't realize this for a long time.  Because Google+ is completely incomprehensible, I have no idea how to get rid of it.  I check my circles hoping they are empty.  No such luck.  I've got a couple of friends to whom clown vibrators are par for the course.  Then it slaps me in the face, an old couple I know through a friend.  All of whom would be mortified if they saw this and recognized it for what it is.  It could be something else, right?  Maybe a thin clown statue with an on/off switch?  Shit!

I call my sister for help deleting the damn thing.  She just laughs and laughs.  I even called Bashley for help.  She said, "you reap what you sow, bitch!"