I live and work in Southwestern Ontario. It's no big secret that our Liberal leaders Dalton McGuinty and Dwight Duncan sold our future prosperity to the wind industry. Our landscape is forever changed by behemoth turbines. Our wallets will continue to feel the pinch for many years to come as we pay for that heavily subsidized electricity.
In their race to prove themselves "Green" and line their pockets with as much of our green as they could, our politicians and the wind industry forgot one simple truth. Some of the biggest pay-offs come from the smallest changes. Easy changes that can be adopted by many so their effects are multiplied - many times over.
What if instead of forcing these monstrous turbines onto Ontarians, the government had instead focused their energies on encouraging contractors to adopt new technology. Every home in a new subdivision could be contributing to reducing our environmental footprint.
Small changes that are not terribly expensive in new construction, repeated many times over.
Things like Drain Water Heat Recovery systems that recover some of the heat rushing down the drain as you shower. Even better those systems could be coupled with Tankless Water Heaters that heat water as you need it instead of maintaining the water at a ready to use temperature 24 hours a day for the four or five hours people are actually home and using hot water.
Better insulation such as the expanding foam insulation that provides an excellent thermal barrier and vapor barrier at the same time. Even something as simple as changing roof lines to allow for future solar panel installation. Solar panels which are quiet and while they may not yet be the best solution for generating electricity, they are efficient at heating water. Water that can be used to heat your home. Something we do here for 8 months out of 12.
Any of these and other innovations could have been easily encouraged by offering incentives such as rebates or reduced development fees. Rather than driving away manufacturing jobs and leaving us with minimum wage call center jobs as a feeble replacement, the government could have encouraged growth in the construction industry - another well paying employment sector.
Instead, we've been shafted by our elected officials, and the shafts are 120 meters high.
Sunday, March 31, 2013
Saturday, March 30, 2013
Goldilocks and the 3 bears, only it's really Vanessa and the 3 bathrooms.
When I'm at work, I have my choice of three possible washrooms. It's kind of like Goldilocks looking for the right chair.
Washroom A is in the most convenient locale. It's also at the coldest end of the Pack House. I stopped using it this winter. When the ambient air temps are a balmy 55 Celsius I can guarantee you the toilet seat will be minus 20 Celsius. That's colder than 32 Fahrenheit by the way.
Washroom B is not so convenient, but warmer. As an added benefit the toilet seat is securely attached to the toilet. The problem with washroom B is the paper towel dispenser is defective. It's also at head height. So by the time you get enough paper towel to dry your hands, your sleeve is wet clear up to your elbow from the water running down your arm.
Washroom C has not just one, but TWO well functioning paper towel dispensers. The problem with C is the toilet seat is only anchored to the bowl by one bolt. One must sit very gingerly to make sure the correct positioning is maintained. If I ever walk in and see a turd beside the toilet, I'll know what happened.
Today, Washroom C was the bathroom of choice. You know why? Because A and B both reeked of urine like a port-a-potty after October Fest.
Seriously guys - there's a urinal in there. How freaking hard is it to hit the damn thing? You're every one of you adults, by now you should have better aim. Do we need a bulls eye around the drain for Pete's sake? Also? Peeing on the lid of the toilet next to the urinal just isn't cool.
Another thing - when you're done it may seem as if all the pee just magically went away but there's a flush handle on those things for a reason you know. It's so that a magical gush of water takes away all your nasty smelling piss. I'm getting kind of tired of walking into the bathroom and flushing the urinal for you. Plus I almost thought I broke it the other day. I guess I shouldn't have hit the flusher so hard with my foot.
Why my foot? Because judging by the puddle of piss under the damn urinal who knows how much was on the handle.
Weekend Funnies - Link up your funny post of the week.
Washroom A is in the most convenient locale. It's also at the coldest end of the Pack House. I stopped using it this winter. When the ambient air temps are a balmy 55 Celsius I can guarantee you the toilet seat will be minus 20 Celsius. That's colder than 32 Fahrenheit by the way.
Washroom B is not so convenient, but warmer. As an added benefit the toilet seat is securely attached to the toilet. The problem with washroom B is the paper towel dispenser is defective. It's also at head height. So by the time you get enough paper towel to dry your hands, your sleeve is wet clear up to your elbow from the water running down your arm.
Washroom C has not just one, but TWO well functioning paper towel dispensers. The problem with C is the toilet seat is only anchored to the bowl by one bolt. One must sit very gingerly to make sure the correct positioning is maintained. If I ever walk in and see a turd beside the toilet, I'll know what happened.
Today, Washroom C was the bathroom of choice. You know why? Because A and B both reeked of urine like a port-a-potty after October Fest.
Seriously guys - there's a urinal in there. How freaking hard is it to hit the damn thing? You're every one of you adults, by now you should have better aim. Do we need a bulls eye around the drain for Pete's sake? Also? Peeing on the lid of the toilet next to the urinal just isn't cool.
Another thing - when you're done it may seem as if all the pee just magically went away but there's a flush handle on those things for a reason you know. It's so that a magical gush of water takes away all your nasty smelling piss. I'm getting kind of tired of walking into the bathroom and flushing the urinal for you. Plus I almost thought I broke it the other day. I guess I shouldn't have hit the flusher so hard with my foot.
Why my foot? Because judging by the puddle of piss under the damn urinal who knows how much was on the handle.
Weekend Funnies - Link up your funny post of the week.
Friday, March 29, 2013
Cavaliers don't jump ramps - Weekend Funnies #5
When my guys were little, Good Friday was the day for coloring Easter Eggs. One year, we were blessed with lovely spring weather, so the boys and their friends spent the afternoon outside jumping ramps with their bicycles. We live on a dead end alleyway, so all the kids used to hang out over here.
After supper we colored eggs and once finished it was time to give a couple of boys rides home. It had gotten dark by this time. I backed my car out of the driveway and then went forward. One tire went up and over something.
The bicycle ramps.
So now I've got two boys who need a ride home and a car that's hung up on two plywood ramps. Fun stuff!
This is a hang out for your funny post of the week. If your post isn't attempting to be funny then this isn't the place for it.
Backlink is required so please either insert one of the buttons from the sidebar in your post or add a link to www.myhalfassedlife.com
If you have any issues feel free to email me at myhalfassedlifehere@gmail.com.
It's a small link up so please read the other posts that link, maybe tweet or leave some comment love. Being Easter Weekeend we'll probably be very laid back this weekend.
After supper we colored eggs and once finished it was time to give a couple of boys rides home. It had gotten dark by this time. I backed my car out of the driveway and then went forward. One tire went up and over something.
The bicycle ramps.
So now I've got two boys who need a ride home and a car that's hung up on two plywood ramps. Fun stuff!
Weekend Funnies #5
This is a hang out for your funny post of the week. If your post isn't attempting to be funny then this isn't the place for it.
Backlink is required so please either insert one of the buttons from the sidebar in your post or add a link to www.myhalfassedlife.com
If you have any issues feel free to email me at myhalfassedlifehere@gmail.com.
It's a small link up so please read the other posts that link, maybe tweet or leave some comment love. Being Easter Weekeend we'll probably be very laid back this weekend.
Thursday, March 28, 2013
Tomatoes don't celebrate Easter.
My head may still be a little bit fuzzy due to the accumulation of snot on my brain, but I'm finally able to stay vertical for longer than 15 minutes at a time. I feel like a bit of a wimp for using sick days but at the same time grateful I did. I would have never made it through two 14 hour work days like that.
Next year? I'm totally getting a flu shot. There's no way a simple little cold would knock me down like that.
I've been up in the air all week as to whether I should hold weekend funnies this weekend or not. On the one hand, most of you will have family functions to attend and might not have time to participate.
On the other hand, it's a long weekend and some of you might not have a lot happening with all that free time from work. For me, it's the same old same old. Tomato plants don't celebrate Easter, so they continue to produce tomatoes. I'll be working tomorrow and Saturday - as usual.
In the end, I've decided to hold it and keep my expectations low. So if you have a funny post to share, I'll be here for you. You'll be able to link up at 5pm Friday until 5pm Sunday.
While I was laid out by the man flu, I wasn't able to do much of anything else so I got some reading in. Most of my reading is done on my tablet with free Kindle books.
Most of the time the free books are new or lesser known authors. Sometimes there's a gem in there though. Unconventional by J. J. Herbert is one of them. The book details one young author's struggle to get his novel published, all while pushing a janitors broom. Through the story James Frost finds love and faith. For me, as a decidedly non-religious person, I found that James's faith only added to the story.
I was kind of sad when I finished it. The sad you get when the last cookie is gone and there is no more to be had.
Now I'm alternating between a Denise Domning book - A Love For All Seasons (I love me some Historical Romance once in a while) and The Books Of Rachel by Joel Gross. In between naps and work of course.
Next year? I'm totally getting a flu shot. There's no way a simple little cold would knock me down like that.
I've been up in the air all week as to whether I should hold weekend funnies this weekend or not. On the one hand, most of you will have family functions to attend and might not have time to participate.
On the other hand, it's a long weekend and some of you might not have a lot happening with all that free time from work. For me, it's the same old same old. Tomato plants don't celebrate Easter, so they continue to produce tomatoes. I'll be working tomorrow and Saturday - as usual.
In the end, I've decided to hold it and keep my expectations low. So if you have a funny post to share, I'll be here for you. You'll be able to link up at 5pm Friday until 5pm Sunday.
While I was laid out by the man flu, I wasn't able to do much of anything else so I got some reading in. Most of my reading is done on my tablet with free Kindle books.
Most of the time the free books are new or lesser known authors. Sometimes there's a gem in there though. Unconventional by J. J. Herbert is one of them. The book details one young author's struggle to get his novel published, all while pushing a janitors broom. Through the story James Frost finds love and faith. For me, as a decidedly non-religious person, I found that James's faith only added to the story.
I was kind of sad when I finished it. The sad you get when the last cookie is gone and there is no more to be had.
Now I'm alternating between a Denise Domning book - A Love For All Seasons (I love me some Historical Romance once in a while) and The Books Of Rachel by Joel Gross. In between naps and work of course.
Wednesday, March 27, 2013
Looking for more.
Through my teen years I struggled with school. Not because I wasn't capable, but because I had no focus. I had no goal in sight and nothing to work towards except getting through each day somehow.
After high school came college. I took Business because I had done well in Accounting through high school. Still Accounting was not something I aspired to, it was just that I was at a point in life where paths needed to be chosen. In hindsight it's little surprise that what I ended up doing was getting pregnant. Not that I deliberately set out to get pregnant, but without that clear idea of where I wanted to end up I probably didn't do as much to prevent it as I could have.
Three years later still with no clear destination in sight, I attempted college again, Electronics this time. Where I discovered that as one of two females in the course there was very little tolerance for the demands of family life and a forty-five minute drive. It was during this time that I also discovered my husband had little interest in parenting, or in assisting me to reach a goal that would benefit us as a family. I became pregnant, deliberately this time. Somehow I thought I would be able to finish the course work while battling first trimester fatigue, and still be mom and wife.
I failed.
Four years later I entered the work force. I started in a lowly clerical position and through my subsequent divorce worked my way up the ladder. Work until 5, come home feed my kids and put them to bed so I can pull out my laptop and work some more? Sure, sign me up! Until I hit the ceiling that is much lower without a degree or even diploma. So I started looking for something else and found it.
What I found came with lots of hours which I was used to; only as an hourly employee I would get paid for all of them, which I wasn't used to. Except now the reality of 6 day and 70 hour work weeks is sinking in and I'm wondering is this really all there is to life?
Work, work, work and then work some more? Driving by the majesty of a lake full of swans every morning on my way to work, mourning the time I don't have to stop and appreciate what I see. Driving by couples walking their dogs after dinner on my way home, the crisp scent of early spring evenings drowned out by the bitterness of regret for choices not chosen.
There has to be something more - I'll keep looking until I find it.
After high school came college. I took Business because I had done well in Accounting through high school. Still Accounting was not something I aspired to, it was just that I was at a point in life where paths needed to be chosen. In hindsight it's little surprise that what I ended up doing was getting pregnant. Not that I deliberately set out to get pregnant, but without that clear idea of where I wanted to end up I probably didn't do as much to prevent it as I could have.
Three years later still with no clear destination in sight, I attempted college again, Electronics this time. Where I discovered that as one of two females in the course there was very little tolerance for the demands of family life and a forty-five minute drive. It was during this time that I also discovered my husband had little interest in parenting, or in assisting me to reach a goal that would benefit us as a family. I became pregnant, deliberately this time. Somehow I thought I would be able to finish the course work while battling first trimester fatigue, and still be mom and wife.
I failed.
Four years later I entered the work force. I started in a lowly clerical position and through my subsequent divorce worked my way up the ladder. Work until 5, come home feed my kids and put them to bed so I can pull out my laptop and work some more? Sure, sign me up! Until I hit the ceiling that is much lower without a degree or even diploma. So I started looking for something else and found it.
What I found came with lots of hours which I was used to; only as an hourly employee I would get paid for all of them, which I wasn't used to. Except now the reality of 6 day and 70 hour work weeks is sinking in and I'm wondering is this really all there is to life?
Work, work, work and then work some more? Driving by the majesty of a lake full of swans every morning on my way to work, mourning the time I don't have to stop and appreciate what I see. Driving by couples walking their dogs after dinner on my way home, the crisp scent of early spring evenings drowned out by the bitterness of regret for choices not chosen.
There has to be something more - I'll keep looking until I find it.
Tuesday, March 26, 2013
Feeding a cold, and I want to be a professional napper when I grow up.
I've revised my opinion. I've definitely got man flu (sorry guys, I only make fun of you because I'm jealous of your ability to cough without peeing your pants). Truly, I think I was run over by the flu bus at some point yesterday.
I can't remember if it was before or after I actually had somebody show me how to copy and paste. Let me rephrase that - first he showed me how to highlight.
Really, I kind of get it. His excel files are very complicated with one file needing cells copied from another page and even another workbook. But seriously? I've spent the past 5 years extracting data from SAP (accounting software) and creating pivot tables to analyse it. I think I can handle it a simple little copy and paste operation.
Plus - I can highlight, copy and paste in about 50 less keystrokes than it took him.
It could be worse - I once had a boss show me how to save as.
Either way, after working until 7:30 I pretty much came home and died.
Today I woke up at the ungodly hour of 4:30 am to be at work for 6 today. I talked myself out of calling in sick.
Come on V, you can at least go in and do your paperwork.
Once the paperwork was done - you can at least make first break. After break it was lunch and after lunch it was 2pm and I completely caved.
I came home and spent the afternoon sleeping like it was my job.
If sleeping was my job, I could completely rock it. I would probably earn promotions and raises and everything. No really - I'm very good at sleeping. I could wake up at 6, head to work and be sawing logs by 7. Break at 9 and back to sleep until lunch? No problem!
I think I just figured out what I want to be when I grow up. A professional napper.
By suppertime, I had enough of the achy, stuffy need to breath and headed to the grocery store for medicine and quick to cook food.
You're supposed to feed a cold right? I know I always want to feed mine. Something about the lack of perceptible taste makes me want to just keep shoveling the food in.
I ate half a container of sugar donuts on the way home. They did a lovely job of scratching the roof of my mouth. And somehow relieving a little bit of the itch in my ears. Still, I'm kind of glad I didn't go for the 2 for $6.00 and stuck with one. My ass does not need the temptation.
I can't remember if it was before or after I actually had somebody show me how to copy and paste. Let me rephrase that - first he showed me how to highlight.
Really, I kind of get it. His excel files are very complicated with one file needing cells copied from another page and even another workbook. But seriously? I've spent the past 5 years extracting data from SAP (accounting software) and creating pivot tables to analyse it. I think I can handle it a simple little copy and paste operation.
Plus - I can highlight, copy and paste in about 50 less keystrokes than it took him.
It could be worse - I once had a boss show me how to save as.
Either way, after working until 7:30 I pretty much came home and died.
Today I woke up at the ungodly hour of 4:30 am to be at work for 6 today. I talked myself out of calling in sick.
Come on V, you can at least go in and do your paperwork.
Once the paperwork was done - you can at least make first break. After break it was lunch and after lunch it was 2pm and I completely caved.
I came home and spent the afternoon sleeping like it was my job.
If sleeping was my job, I could completely rock it. I would probably earn promotions and raises and everything. No really - I'm very good at sleeping. I could wake up at 6, head to work and be sawing logs by 7. Break at 9 and back to sleep until lunch? No problem!
I think I just figured out what I want to be when I grow up. A professional napper.
By suppertime, I had enough of the achy, stuffy need to breath and headed to the grocery store for medicine and quick to cook food.
You're supposed to feed a cold right? I know I always want to feed mine. Something about the lack of perceptible taste makes me want to just keep shoveling the food in.
I ate half a container of sugar donuts on the way home. They did a lovely job of scratching the roof of my mouth. And somehow relieving a little bit of the itch in my ears. Still, I'm kind of glad I didn't go for the 2 for $6.00 and stuck with one. My ass does not need the temptation.
Sunday, March 24, 2013
I have a girl cold.
I have a cold and I'm not happy about it. It's not a man cold either. It's a girl cold. You know what a girl cold is? It's the one where you have to cross your legs for every damn sneeze or cough. Men don't have to worry about that now do they?
Friday night I was stuffy - I thought it was allergies but no. I woke up Saturday morning with a full blown head cold.
I was raised by the mantra if you feel like shit, you might as well be at work and feel like shit. Colds are not supposed to happen on Saturdays. They're supposed to happen on Mondays or Tuesdays. When I'm working. Not right before my one day off of the week.
My ears are itchy. I want to stick a knitting needle in them itchy.
I'm coughing all over the place, which means I'm running to the bathroom constantly. Yet there's always more pee the next time I cough - 2 seconds later.
I'm also sneezing frequently adding to the pee dilemma.
Wanna know something that is really not cool? Having a sneezing fit hit while you're eating mashed potatoes.
Just be glad you weren't sitting in front of me.
Friday night I was stuffy - I thought it was allergies but no. I woke up Saturday morning with a full blown head cold.
I was raised by the mantra if you feel like shit, you might as well be at work and feel like shit. Colds are not supposed to happen on Saturdays. They're supposed to happen on Mondays or Tuesdays. When I'm working. Not right before my one day off of the week.
My ears are itchy. I want to stick a knitting needle in them itchy.
I'm coughing all over the place, which means I'm running to the bathroom constantly. Yet there's always more pee the next time I cough - 2 seconds later.
I'm also sneezing frequently adding to the pee dilemma.
Wanna know something that is really not cool? Having a sneezing fit hit while you're eating mashed potatoes.
Just be glad you weren't sitting in front of me.
Friday, March 22, 2013
Weekend Funnies #4
My very first published post on My Half Assed Life was published 3 months ago on December 22nd. My birthday by the way - jot that down for future reference.
So you can wish me happy birthday, not so you can sign up for a shitload of credit cards in my name. Huh, I wonder what kind of credit score My Half Assed Life would have?
There's a new badge in the sidebar. You can use either it, or the tomato in assless chaps to link up. Grab the code and insert it into your post. Please pray to the blogging and HTML gods that the effer works this time. If it doesn't a link to www.myhalfassedlife.com should do the trick. After all, what good is a link up if you don't bring some readers with you?
The graffiti on those bananas would be courtesy of Asshat #1. For some people a sharpie marker is a dangerous thing. Just ask his younger brother who has had the occasional dick pic graffiti on his back. Rubbing alcohol gets that off by the way. Mostly.
There was a time when the whiteboard on the fridge (it was intended to be a place for the Asshats to see what they should do before I got home) became dick pic central. In fact, people coming over to my house would make a deliberate detour to see the latest in Asshat graffiti.
I should get another white board - not for chores lists - I'm over that dream, but so that I can snap pictures of their latest "art" and post them on my blog for your entertainment.
Okay then, Rules and FAQ.
Number one rule is your post must be humorous, or be written with a humorous intent. If your blog is normally humorous, but your best post this week is about your dog dying - I'll be here for you next week. Or the week after, since I know it would take me a while to find my funny again if something happened to my dog.
Link up goes live at 5pm Friday and closes for submissions at 5pm Sunday. This is mostly to make sure I do my best by you. I've learned my limits, and coming up with imaginative tweets and otherwise pimping your post loses steam by 8 pm on Sunday. My feet start to hurt and I need to kick off the hooker heels around then.
Please link a newer post - preferably one from the week prior. It helps everybody who does link up by bringing some of your followers along with you.
Please visit your fellow attendees and show them a little love. We're only four weeks in so the reading list shouldn't be too onerous. If we're (because we are in this together) lucky enough to get popular, I'll probably cap at a reasonable number that lets us continue to have a bloggy love fest.
Like an orgy only without the mess or worry of STD's.
If you aren't already following me on Twitter or Facebook, consider doing so - you'll be able to retweet my tweets to your followers, since I do sometimes forget to @ you.
PS I've said it before and I'll say it again - next to your avatar, your title is your best means of encouraging people to click on your thumbnail. Use an imaginative title relevant to your post or the title of your post. Everyone will see your blog's name when they click the thumbnail. Use that thumbnail to intrigue people.
So you can wish me happy birthday, not so you can sign up for a shitload of credit cards in my name. Huh, I wonder what kind of credit score My Half Assed Life would have?
There's a new badge in the sidebar. You can use either it, or the tomato in assless chaps to link up. Grab the code and insert it into your post. Please pray to the blogging and HTML gods that the effer works this time. If it doesn't a link to www.myhalfassedlife.com should do the trick. After all, what good is a link up if you don't bring some readers with you?
The graffiti on those bananas would be courtesy of Asshat #1. For some people a sharpie marker is a dangerous thing. Just ask his younger brother who has had the occasional dick pic graffiti on his back. Rubbing alcohol gets that off by the way. Mostly.
There was a time when the whiteboard on the fridge (it was intended to be a place for the Asshats to see what they should do before I got home) became dick pic central. In fact, people coming over to my house would make a deliberate detour to see the latest in Asshat graffiti.
I should get another white board - not for chores lists - I'm over that dream, but so that I can snap pictures of their latest "art" and post them on my blog for your entertainment.
Okay then, Rules and FAQ.
Number one rule is your post must be humorous, or be written with a humorous intent. If your blog is normally humorous, but your best post this week is about your dog dying - I'll be here for you next week. Or the week after, since I know it would take me a while to find my funny again if something happened to my dog.
Link up goes live at 5pm Friday and closes for submissions at 5pm Sunday. This is mostly to make sure I do my best by you. I've learned my limits, and coming up with imaginative tweets and otherwise pimping your post loses steam by 8 pm on Sunday. My feet start to hurt and I need to kick off the hooker heels around then.
Please link a newer post - preferably one from the week prior. It helps everybody who does link up by bringing some of your followers along with you.
Please visit your fellow attendees and show them a little love. We're only four weeks in so the reading list shouldn't be too onerous. If we're (because we are in this together) lucky enough to get popular, I'll probably cap at a reasonable number that lets us continue to have a bloggy love fest.
Like an orgy only without the mess or worry of STD's.
If you aren't already following me on Twitter or Facebook, consider doing so - you'll be able to retweet my tweets to your followers, since I do sometimes forget to @ you.
PS I've said it before and I'll say it again - next to your avatar, your title is your best means of encouraging people to click on your thumbnail. Use an imaginative title relevant to your post or the title of your post. Everyone will see your blog's name when they click the thumbnail. Use that thumbnail to intrigue people.
Wednesday, March 20, 2013
I'm sorry, I can't sign your petition.
Today on my way home from work, I stopped at my favorite convenience store for smokes.
Yes, I know it's a disgusting habit.
This convenience store is run by a very nice husband and wife. I really like them, even if they do sell a whole lotta tacky in there too.
No really - if you're looking for a picture of a wolf laminated to particle board this is the place to go. They've also got a good selection of pipes and roach clips, mixed in with the tacky souvenir type knicky knacks.
While I was in there the owner asked me to sign a petition. A petition to change the laws and allow corner stores to sell wine, beer and other spirits.
Here in Ontario you buy your beer at The Beer Store, and everything else including beer at the LCBO. It might seem restrictive but it's always been that way.
Also, the legal drinking age here is 19. Coincidentally the same age you must be before a store can legally sell you cigarettes.
While the owners of the store I patronize might not sell cigarettes to minors, not all convenience store owners have the same morality. I have seen kids I KNOW are not old enough walk out of some stores with smokes in hand.
This is in spite of some very hefty fines that the store could face if caught.
I have never seen a teenager walk out of the LCBO or The Beer Store with a six pack of beer or a mickey of vodka in hand.
So even though I admire this couple and the dedication and hours they put into building their little business, I did not sign the petition.
I believe that sales of beer, wine and spirits in Ontario should stay exactly where they are - in the control of places with formalized training and policies. Places that hire people who won't knowingly sell alcohol to minors.
Let's face it, teens can find enough ways to break the rules. Rules that are put in place to protect them from their own foolishness. Why make it any easier for them.
In two days this blog turns into a three months old. This is also my 100th* post. Thank you to everyone who drops by and reads. I love interacting with all of you.
*Technically there are about 14 additional posts but since they reference The Swinger too much, you'll have to wait until such time as they no longer constitute grounds for dismissal to read them. That or if I manage to win the lottery. Sorry.
Yes, I know it's a disgusting habit.
This convenience store is run by a very nice husband and wife. I really like them, even if they do sell a whole lotta tacky in there too.
No really - if you're looking for a picture of a wolf laminated to particle board this is the place to go. They've also got a good selection of pipes and roach clips, mixed in with the tacky souvenir type knicky knacks.
While I was in there the owner asked me to sign a petition. A petition to change the laws and allow corner stores to sell wine, beer and other spirits.
Here in Ontario you buy your beer at The Beer Store, and everything else including beer at the LCBO. It might seem restrictive but it's always been that way.
Also, the legal drinking age here is 19. Coincidentally the same age you must be before a store can legally sell you cigarettes.
While the owners of the store I patronize might not sell cigarettes to minors, not all convenience store owners have the same morality. I have seen kids I KNOW are not old enough walk out of some stores with smokes in hand.
This is in spite of some very hefty fines that the store could face if caught.
I have never seen a teenager walk out of the LCBO or The Beer Store with a six pack of beer or a mickey of vodka in hand.
So even though I admire this couple and the dedication and hours they put into building their little business, I did not sign the petition.
I believe that sales of beer, wine and spirits in Ontario should stay exactly where they are - in the control of places with formalized training and policies. Places that hire people who won't knowingly sell alcohol to minors.
Let's face it, teens can find enough ways to break the rules. Rules that are put in place to protect them from their own foolishness. Why make it any easier for them.
In two days this blog turns into a three months old. This is also my 100th* post. Thank you to everyone who drops by and reads. I love interacting with all of you.
*Technically there are about 14 additional posts but since they reference The Swinger too much, you'll have to wait until such time as they no longer constitute grounds for dismissal to read them. That or if I manage to win the lottery. Sorry.
Tuesday, March 19, 2013
Is that a thing or something?
Between twitter and other bloggers I've realized something.
Not only am I not trendy - I'm oblivious to 99.9% of the trends that are happening right now.
Seriously - could somebody at least tell me what the hell is Dubstep? I tried wikipedia, but I'm not music literate enough to figure out what they're talking about either.
My music tastes are simple. I either raided it from my brother's collection or I heard a song, liked a song and then remembered enough of the words to google it and go buy the CD. Once I own it I like to leave it in my car CD player until I've replicated what most radio stations do to music.
I've never read Twilight, not to say I don't enjoy a good vampire novel. It's just I'll take J.R. Ward please. That Black Dagger Brotherhood series is very steamy. Or Kelley Armstrong - because she's from Ontario, Canada and who cares how big the damn province is - so am I.
Name a movie - any movie. I bet you I haven't seen it*. Odds are pretty good I may have never even heard of it. Once The Polish Guy got a box of movies someone had burned - all titled. I flipped through all those DVD's and said well let's watch "I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell" because it was the only title I recognized.
By the way - I laughed my ass of reading that book (probably because I'm raising the next generation of potential assholes) but the movie gave it a damn sentimental twist that was not in the book.
I have also never watched Dr. Who - except for when I was a little kid. At the time it reminded me of the goofy school movies that were the 70's version of interactive learning. I've also never watched that Zombie series you all are watching - whatever it's called. I watched a zombie movie or two in my time - does it still count if it was on VHS?
I'm not into gaming either. I'll confess to having years ago played Sims and all of a sudden the sun is up and my Sim family has 3 half alien babies in college and more damn simoleons than my entire family put together, but I don't really think that compares to World of Warcraft.
It's beginning to look like I'm halfway to the hermit existence here. I think I'm going to need a few more cats.
This post instigated/triggered by The Dose of Reality's Hold It Right There Hombre!
*Unless it's X-men, Spiderman, Batman or Underworld - then I've seen it.
Not only am I not trendy - I'm oblivious to 99.9% of the trends that are happening right now.
Seriously - could somebody at least tell me what the hell is Dubstep? I tried wikipedia, but I'm not music literate enough to figure out what they're talking about either.
My music tastes are simple. I either raided it from my brother's collection or I heard a song, liked a song and then remembered enough of the words to google it and go buy the CD. Once I own it I like to leave it in my car CD player until I've replicated what most radio stations do to music.
I've never read Twilight, not to say I don't enjoy a good vampire novel. It's just I'll take J.R. Ward please. That Black Dagger Brotherhood series is very steamy. Or Kelley Armstrong - because she's from Ontario, Canada and who cares how big the damn province is - so am I.
Name a movie - any movie. I bet you I haven't seen it*. Odds are pretty good I may have never even heard of it. Once The Polish Guy got a box of movies someone had burned - all titled. I flipped through all those DVD's and said well let's watch "I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell" because it was the only title I recognized.
By the way - I laughed my ass of reading that book (probably because I'm raising the next generation of potential assholes) but the movie gave it a damn sentimental twist that was not in the book.
I have also never watched Dr. Who - except for when I was a little kid. At the time it reminded me of the goofy school movies that were the 70's version of interactive learning. I've also never watched that Zombie series you all are watching - whatever it's called. I watched a zombie movie or two in my time - does it still count if it was on VHS?
I'm not into gaming either. I'll confess to having years ago played Sims and all of a sudden the sun is up and my Sim family has 3 half alien babies in college and more damn simoleons than my entire family put together, but I don't really think that compares to World of Warcraft.
It's beginning to look like I'm halfway to the hermit existence here. I think I'm going to need a few more cats.
This post instigated/triggered by The Dose of Reality's Hold It Right There Hombre!
*Unless it's X-men, Spiderman, Batman or Underworld - then I've seen it.
Monday, March 18, 2013
Thin love ain't love at all.
The Polish Guy and I have been together for four years. We weren't together for very long before we developed a routine. Weeknights at my place, weekends at his.
Our weekends with kids coincided and his kids and my youngest took to the routine readily. With the three of them, we've got 15, 16 & 17. Summers were mostly spent at his house, because his kids would hang out there more in the summer.
It worked. Until all of a sudden it didn't. Or at least it no longer worked for him.
I still go to his house on weekends. He still calls me every night during the week. But that's all. Other than coming for dinner Christmas Eve, he has not been in my house since the kids went back to school in the fall.
I've gone through the range of emotions. Hurt and anger and a little more hurt. Lately though I've become guarded and to be honest - selfish. A healthy response to the situation? Maybe.
Does it do anything to build a warm caring relationship? Not at all.
Last week, I stopped at the corner store on my way home from work. He stopped at the same time. We exchanged pleasantries but nothing more. When I got out to my car I sat for a few minutes and wondered how we appeared to the sales clerk.
Casual acquaintances with no hint of intimacy.
And I'm left to wonder - is that what we've become?
Our weekends with kids coincided and his kids and my youngest took to the routine readily. With the three of them, we've got 15, 16 & 17. Summers were mostly spent at his house, because his kids would hang out there more in the summer.
It worked. Until all of a sudden it didn't. Or at least it no longer worked for him.
I still go to his house on weekends. He still calls me every night during the week. But that's all. Other than coming for dinner Christmas Eve, he has not been in my house since the kids went back to school in the fall.
I've gone through the range of emotions. Hurt and anger and a little more hurt. Lately though I've become guarded and to be honest - selfish. A healthy response to the situation? Maybe.
Does it do anything to build a warm caring relationship? Not at all.
Last week, I stopped at the corner store on my way home from work. He stopped at the same time. We exchanged pleasantries but nothing more. When I got out to my car I sat for a few minutes and wondered how we appeared to the sales clerk.
Casual acquaintances with no hint of intimacy.
And I'm left to wonder - is that what we've become?
Sunday, March 17, 2013
This is why there's always dog snot on my rearview mirror.
There's not a whole lot to see here, unless you're into cute - just roughly 5 minutes of my dog Louie going spaz on the way to Gramma's.
Excuse the Cottonelle in the back seat - I'm a toilet paper hoarder when that stuff is on sale.
Saturday, March 16, 2013
Help me! I've fallen and I can't get up.
When I was in my 20's I rarely if ever drank. Let's face it - with the kids I spawned somebody had to be sober. You just never knew when you were going to have to make a run to the ER.
Then suddenly I was in my 30's and newly divorced.
At first it was great. Every other weekend the kids were their Dad's responsibility.
I'm sure it was an eye-opener for him.
It didn't take very long though and as much as I looked forward to Friday, by suppertime Saturday I was ready for them to come home.
So one weekend my baby brother took pity on me and took me out drinking. Both of us single - he admired the waitress with the cool glasses. For me the pickings were pretty slim and let's face it I wouldn't have the first clue of how to hook up in a bar with someone.
Towards the end of the evening, I was already well on my way to drunk and baby brother tells me to suck it back because it's time to go.
Never ever under any circumstances do that. You now have a time delayed, fall on your ass drunk sitting in your stomach. Just waiting to disperse to your brain when you least expect it.
He dropped me off at home and I proceeded to fuck around on the computer. Imagine - in those days I was still trying to figure out what everyone else saw in parking your ass in front of a computer. I was on there just long enough for the time delayed drunk to hit my brain.
Then I decided it was time to take a shower and get ready for bed.
I can't take my socks off standing up while sober - so why would I try to do it while drunk standing in front of the tub?
That's right - I fell into the tub. Only not all the way in. Just kind of bare ass perched on the cold porcelain side while the back of my arm handily caught the spout on the way down. Two points of contact - keeping me elevated from the bottom of the tub.
Well fuck. What the hell do you do then? I couldn't get up, partly because I was drunk. Going down to the bottom of the tub was kind of hard too - because I was drunk.
Eventually I managed to slither my way down to the bottom of the icy cold tub so I could crawl out. The bruise on the back of my arm from the faucet hung around for a couple of months.
Some things are just meant to be experienced in your 20's. Falling down drunk would be one of them. Let's face it, the younger you are the less likely you are to break something.
Got a funny post from the week? Weekend funnies #3 is live until midnight Sunday.
Then suddenly I was in my 30's and newly divorced.
At first it was great. Every other weekend the kids were their Dad's responsibility.
I'm sure it was an eye-opener for him.
It didn't take very long though and as much as I looked forward to Friday, by suppertime Saturday I was ready for them to come home.
So one weekend my baby brother took pity on me and took me out drinking. Both of us single - he admired the waitress with the cool glasses. For me the pickings were pretty slim and let's face it I wouldn't have the first clue of how to hook up in a bar with someone.
Towards the end of the evening, I was already well on my way to drunk and baby brother tells me to suck it back because it's time to go.
Never ever under any circumstances do that. You now have a time delayed, fall on your ass drunk sitting in your stomach. Just waiting to disperse to your brain when you least expect it.
He dropped me off at home and I proceeded to fuck around on the computer. Imagine - in those days I was still trying to figure out what everyone else saw in parking your ass in front of a computer. I was on there just long enough for the time delayed drunk to hit my brain.
Then I decided it was time to take a shower and get ready for bed.
I can't take my socks off standing up while sober - so why would I try to do it while drunk standing in front of the tub?
That's right - I fell into the tub. Only not all the way in. Just kind of bare ass perched on the cold porcelain side while the back of my arm handily caught the spout on the way down. Two points of contact - keeping me elevated from the bottom of the tub.
Well fuck. What the hell do you do then? I couldn't get up, partly because I was drunk. Going down to the bottom of the tub was kind of hard too - because I was drunk.
Eventually I managed to slither my way down to the bottom of the icy cold tub so I could crawl out. The bruise on the back of my arm from the faucet hung around for a couple of months.
Some things are just meant to be experienced in your 20's. Falling down drunk would be one of them. Let's face it, the younger you are the less likely you are to break something.
Got a funny post from the week? Weekend funnies #3 is live until midnight Sunday.
Friday, March 15, 2013
Green Ham and Eggs, I'll pass on the Salmonella Sam I Am
My grandmother is a thrifty sort. She grew up poor and to this day won't throw food away. I've watched her carefully scrape leftover mashed potatoes into successively smaller plastic ware to save it for another night, and another, and another. Right down to the last tablespoon.
One year we had a family get together. In addition to the mashed potatoes, Gramma decided to contribute a ham. One of those cryovac packed, round boneless hams.
She forgot to take the plastic off before she cooked it.
This is the point where most of us would have tossed that ham right into the dumpster. Not my gramma. Oh hell no, that untouched ham went out to the glassed in porch - the winter fridge if you will.
Flash forward to another family dinner a week later. I walk in and spy one of my favorite things - sliced yellow peppers. Not knowing any better I shoved one in my mouth, chewed once and ran for the garbage so I could spit it out.
Turns out the only part of the pepper that wasn't slimy and rotten was the part I was holding. I quickly took my mom aside and told her the peppers weren't any good.
My mom: Your grandmother brought them. They're from last week.
Me: They're a week old and she brought them! She might have time for food poisoning, but I don't!
My mom: That's not all she brought. She brought the ham.
My mom pointed out the ham to me. The lovely green ham, that was cooked in it's plastic wrapper. The sun porch might have been cold enough - but sun is not ham's friend.
My mom: I told her it wasn't any good so then she wanted me to feed it to the dog. I told her there was no way in hell I would feed that to my dog.
Throughout dinner my Uncle kept reciting lines from Dr. Seuss's Green Eggs & Ham. Substituting Eggs & Green Ham, all while laughing so hard that I expected to see either food or snot come flying out of his nose.
My mother was not amused Sam I am.
Weekend Funnies is live. Link up your funny post from the week.
One year we had a family get together. In addition to the mashed potatoes, Gramma decided to contribute a ham. One of those cryovac packed, round boneless hams.
She forgot to take the plastic off before she cooked it.
This is the point where most of us would have tossed that ham right into the dumpster. Not my gramma. Oh hell no, that untouched ham went out to the glassed in porch - the winter fridge if you will.
Flash forward to another family dinner a week later. I walk in and spy one of my favorite things - sliced yellow peppers. Not knowing any better I shoved one in my mouth, chewed once and ran for the garbage so I could spit it out.
Turns out the only part of the pepper that wasn't slimy and rotten was the part I was holding. I quickly took my mom aside and told her the peppers weren't any good.
My mom: Your grandmother brought them. They're from last week.
Me: They're a week old and she brought them! She might have time for food poisoning, but I don't!
My mom: That's not all she brought. She brought the ham.
My mom pointed out the ham to me. The lovely green ham, that was cooked in it's plastic wrapper. The sun porch might have been cold enough - but sun is not ham's friend.
My mom: I told her it wasn't any good so then she wanted me to feed it to the dog. I told her there was no way in hell I would feed that to my dog.
Throughout dinner my Uncle kept reciting lines from Dr. Seuss's Green Eggs & Ham. Substituting Eggs & Green Ham, all while laughing so hard that I expected to see either food or snot come flying out of his nose.
My mother was not amused Sam I am.
Weekend Funnies is live. Link up your funny post from the week.
Weekend Funnies #3
You know how it is when you have one of those weeks? I had one of those ones this week, and it ain't over yet.
What gets me through is looking for something I can laugh about. Like a muppet hat. Or this conversation.
Employee and fellow perv: Vanessa, I got something for you.
She holds up a tomato with a penis. If you read my blog you've seen one of them and you know what they say about penises - if you've seen one, you've seen them all. Except that the tomato's "ahem" appendage is looking a little worse for wear.
That's right. On the average penis tomato, the penis part is the first part to spoil. As you know, I've been studying these penis tomatoes closely.
Me: Throw that poor thing away, it looks horrible.
Employee and fellow perv: Sometimes we don't get the fresh nice ones.
This was about when I started laughing and nearly wet myself. When I returned from the washroom...
Me: Sometimes us older women have to make do with the withered up ones.
Weekend Funnies #3 will go live at 5pm. Link up your funniest post from the week.
Last week we made it to 8 attendees. All of you are awesome.
TJ Falletti with If My 8 Month Old Son Could Tweet had The Polish Guy convinced I was losing it. I laughed that hard over her creative hashtag #shittyballs along with the rest of the post.
Grab a badge of your choice from the left sidebar and insert it into your post. A link to my My Half Assed Life will work as well. If you have issues feel free to email me at myhalfassedlifehere@gmail.com. I check my email on lunch and breaks and will try my best to apply my limited skills to the situation.
We'll stay live until Sunday midnight. Any posts I publish during that time will have the link up attached to them.
I'll also tweet, FB and Pintershit the hell out of your post when I'm not working. Since we've got an additional 30 to 50 thousand kilos of tomatoes on the agenda this Saturday - your retweets and Facebook shares will be most appreciated.
What gets me through is looking for something I can laugh about. Like a muppet hat. Or this conversation.
Employee and fellow perv: Vanessa, I got something for you.
She holds up a tomato with a penis. If you read my blog you've seen one of them and you know what they say about penises - if you've seen one, you've seen them all. Except that the tomato's "ahem" appendage is looking a little worse for wear.
That's right. On the average penis tomato, the penis part is the first part to spoil. As you know, I've been studying these penis tomatoes closely.
Me: Throw that poor thing away, it looks horrible.
Employee and fellow perv: Sometimes we don't get the fresh nice ones.
This was about when I started laughing and nearly wet myself. When I returned from the washroom...
Me: Sometimes us older women have to make do with the withered up ones.
Weekend Funnies #3 will go live at 5pm. Link up your funniest post from the week.
Last week we made it to 8 attendees. All of you are awesome.
TJ Falletti with If My 8 Month Old Son Could Tweet had The Polish Guy convinced I was losing it. I laughed that hard over her creative hashtag #shittyballs along with the rest of the post.
Grab a badge of your choice from the left sidebar and insert it into your post. A link to my My Half Assed Life will work as well. If you have issues feel free to email me at myhalfassedlifehere@gmail.com. I check my email on lunch and breaks and will try my best to apply my limited skills to the situation.
We'll stay live until Sunday midnight. Any posts I publish during that time will have the link up attached to them.
I'll also tweet, FB and Pintershit the hell out of your post when I'm not working. Since we've got an additional 30 to 50 thousand kilos of tomatoes on the agenda this Saturday - your retweets and Facebook shares will be most appreciated.
Thursday, March 14, 2013
Which Muppet are you wearing on your head?
I was watching one of the greenhouse guys today - transfixed by his hat.
It looked like he was wearing a muppet on his head. Blue with orange fuzz sprouting from it.
Finally I got up the nerve to ask if I could take a picture of his hat. English is his second language so at first he was worried I wanted to take his hat.
As if!
Rumor has it the hat disappeared for a few days last week and he was very upset about it. I'm not sure how you go about losing a hat that looks like this one.
It would take some effort.
It looked like he was wearing a muppet on his head. Blue with orange fuzz sprouting from it.
Finally I got up the nerve to ask if I could take a picture of his hat. English is his second language so at first he was worried I wanted to take his hat.
As if!
Rumor has it the hat disappeared for a few days last week and he was very upset about it. I'm not sure how you go about losing a hat that looks like this one.
It would take some effort.
Tuesday, March 12, 2013
Why Yeah Write is the best community on the internet.
My first Yeah Write challenge was Challenge #55. I've been hooked ever since.
It was a different blog, and I was a baby blogger. Not a blogger who blogs about babies, but a newbie.
Completely green to the blogging world.
I had absolutely no concept of how to write a post that people wanted to read. Even less idea of how to craft a post that made people want to come back and read what I had to say the next day. My kids were mostly grown. My life consisted of the regular every day ho hum that every mom lives. Work, supper, house work and just life. No special skills, no fashion sense and no time for crafts.
What the hell am I going to blog about? What is my shtick?
Well guess what? Erica, the curator of Yeah Write is a huge fan of the short story. One of the things that participating in the Yeah Write link up will teach you is how to tell a compelling story.
That's what bloggers do - we take a single minute from our day or event from our past, and tell the story. We give it a beginning, a middle and an end. We flesh out the details, while eliminating the noise in the background. Yeah Write teaches you how to hone that post down and cut the clutter.
You don't need the back story to tell the main story. If you do it right, the main story will stand alone.
Telling the story is only part of the blogging experience, once we've told it then we pray someone will read it and comment on it.
That is another thing that participating in Yeah Write will give you. It's not a willy nilly link-up. Participants are capped at 50. Period. In order to participate - you must be willing to read the posts your fellow challenge members have linked.
Every single one of them.
Up to 50 of them, and let me tell you when I first started linking up with Yeah Write the grid was half full by the time you woke up the next morning. Bloggers stayed awake until 12:01, just to claim their spot on the grid.
To bring you the most page views possible another rule of Yeah Write is your post must be dated the Sunday prior to the grid opening. Does that seem too picky to you?
Consider this - I publish a post and my people (I love being able to say that) read it. Two weeks later I link it up on a blog hop. My people have already read it, they aren't going to read it again to see I linked up to Yeah Write or any other blog hop. But if I publish a post written specifically for Yeah Write with that Yeah Write badge already on it - my people might be intrigued. Maybe they'll have a little extra time come Tuesday morning and click that badge to see what it's all about.
Only there you are also with your thumbnail on the grid, and since there's still a little coffee left in their cup they click your link. Maybe it's someone who's never seen your blog before or maybe they saw a post once and didn't feel it that time. Only now, you've got your very best of the week linked up to Yeah Write and they're all "Wow! How come I'm not already following this blogger?"
That's one part of the Yeah Write spirit.
The other part? We vote, but Yeah Write is not a popularity contest. Sure nobody can 100% control the internet, but Erica has come up with some pretty clever ways to make sure that the winners are truly the ones with the most skill.
For starters - each person gets to vote for five bloggers. So maybe you vote for a blogger that you read regularly, but you've still got four votes left. Should you choose to use them, you're going to vote for the posts that somehow hit with you. Some weeks, you wish you had more votes.
Most weeks as I read my way through the grid the five that should be top (in my opinion) jump out at me. Always, at least 3 of my 5 votes are in the top five. They might not even be bloggers that I would normally read - but they brought their A game and that's what counts on the Yeah Write grid.
They're the ones who write a post that grabs me from the first sentence. They're the ones who tell a story I can follow to the end - no matter what the subject is or whether the tone matches my typical style. If you are a reader, you recognize good writing when you see it. You will see a lot of it at Yeah Write.
Come join in the spirit of Yeah Write - it's their 100th challenge grid and for the month of March they're celebrating turning two. Hang out, browse a bit - I promise you'll meet at least one blogger worth following.
If your very best this week is 500 words or less and tells a compelling story, consider linking up.
If you want proof that participating in Yeah Write will help you grow as a writer, consider this - my first Yeah Write challenge post. I'm amazed they let me join the fun.
It was a different blog, and I was a baby blogger. Not a blogger who blogs about babies, but a newbie.
Completely green to the blogging world.
I had absolutely no concept of how to write a post that people wanted to read. Even less idea of how to craft a post that made people want to come back and read what I had to say the next day. My kids were mostly grown. My life consisted of the regular every day ho hum that every mom lives. Work, supper, house work and just life. No special skills, no fashion sense and no time for crafts.
What the hell am I going to blog about? What is my shtick?
Well guess what? Erica, the curator of Yeah Write is a huge fan of the short story. One of the things that participating in the Yeah Write link up will teach you is how to tell a compelling story.
That's what bloggers do - we take a single minute from our day or event from our past, and tell the story. We give it a beginning, a middle and an end. We flesh out the details, while eliminating the noise in the background. Yeah Write teaches you how to hone that post down and cut the clutter.
You don't need the back story to tell the main story. If you do it right, the main story will stand alone.
Telling the story is only part of the blogging experience, once we've told it then we pray someone will read it and comment on it.
That is another thing that participating in Yeah Write will give you. It's not a willy nilly link-up. Participants are capped at 50. Period. In order to participate - you must be willing to read the posts your fellow challenge members have linked.
Every single one of them.
Up to 50 of them, and let me tell you when I first started linking up with Yeah Write the grid was half full by the time you woke up the next morning. Bloggers stayed awake until 12:01, just to claim their spot on the grid.
To bring you the most page views possible another rule of Yeah Write is your post must be dated the Sunday prior to the grid opening. Does that seem too picky to you?
Consider this - I publish a post and my people (I love being able to say that) read it. Two weeks later I link it up on a blog hop. My people have already read it, they aren't going to read it again to see I linked up to Yeah Write or any other blog hop. But if I publish a post written specifically for Yeah Write with that Yeah Write badge already on it - my people might be intrigued. Maybe they'll have a little extra time come Tuesday morning and click that badge to see what it's all about.
Only there you are also with your thumbnail on the grid, and since there's still a little coffee left in their cup they click your link. Maybe it's someone who's never seen your blog before or maybe they saw a post once and didn't feel it that time. Only now, you've got your very best of the week linked up to Yeah Write and they're all "Wow! How come I'm not already following this blogger?"
That's one part of the Yeah Write spirit.
The other part? We vote, but Yeah Write is not a popularity contest. Sure nobody can 100% control the internet, but Erica has come up with some pretty clever ways to make sure that the winners are truly the ones with the most skill.
For starters - each person gets to vote for five bloggers. So maybe you vote for a blogger that you read regularly, but you've still got four votes left. Should you choose to use them, you're going to vote for the posts that somehow hit with you. Some weeks, you wish you had more votes.
Most weeks as I read my way through the grid the five that should be top (in my opinion) jump out at me. Always, at least 3 of my 5 votes are in the top five. They might not even be bloggers that I would normally read - but they brought their A game and that's what counts on the Yeah Write grid.
They're the ones who write a post that grabs me from the first sentence. They're the ones who tell a story I can follow to the end - no matter what the subject is or whether the tone matches my typical style. If you are a reader, you recognize good writing when you see it. You will see a lot of it at Yeah Write.
Come join in the spirit of Yeah Write - it's their 100th challenge grid and for the month of March they're celebrating turning two. Hang out, browse a bit - I promise you'll meet at least one blogger worth following.
If your very best this week is 500 words or less and tells a compelling story, consider linking up.
If you want proof that participating in Yeah Write will help you grow as a writer, consider this - my first Yeah Write challenge post. I'm amazed they let me join the fun.
I'm not a procrastinator, I'm just on permanent daylight saving time.
Falling back in November was horrible and made me bitchy. I always felt like I was struggling with time, so I was really dreading losing that hour on Sunday.
Surprisingly, I actually seem to be rocking this whole Spring ahead thing.
Yesterday flew by, my brain thinking it was an hour earlier than it really was. No clock watching for this chick. Before I knew it, it was lunch time and then I blinked and it was time to go home.
On a Monday of all things. Usually that bitch is kicking my ass all over the place. Maybe she forgot to change her clocks?
Work dragged a little bit today but since it was our second "done at 5 tonight and start at 8 tomorrow" in a row I've got no complaints.
That does happen once in a while - the no complaints part.
Then I got home and holy shit, I've actually accomplished something. Dishes are washed, supper is almost ready and laundry is in progress. All an hour earlier than it usually happens.
See - I'm not really a procrastinator. I'm just permanently on Daylight Saving Time.
Surprisingly, I actually seem to be rocking this whole Spring ahead thing.
Yesterday flew by, my brain thinking it was an hour earlier than it really was. No clock watching for this chick. Before I knew it, it was lunch time and then I blinked and it was time to go home.
On a Monday of all things. Usually that bitch is kicking my ass all over the place. Maybe she forgot to change her clocks?
Work dragged a little bit today but since it was our second "done at 5 tonight and start at 8 tomorrow" in a row I've got no complaints.
That does happen once in a while - the no complaints part.
Then I got home and holy shit, I've actually accomplished something. Dishes are washed, supper is almost ready and laundry is in progress. All an hour earlier than it usually happens.
See - I'm not really a procrastinator. I'm just permanently on Daylight Saving Time.
Monday, March 11, 2013
This Battle Scarred Floor
Never trust your children when they're getting along. If two siblings are not fighting they are plotting a takedown of the mommy.
Mine got along once. Then I walked into my kitchen and discovered that they had been using a butter knife to pry up my kitchen floor tiles.
It was one of those peel & stick floors, only the sticky part was kind of patchy so a handful of tiles came completely off. Another handful of tiles had all four corners lifted and broken off.
While the sticky wasn’t sticky enough to foil those little prying fingers and a couple of my butter knives, it was sticky enough to pull your socks off if you walked across the bare patches. We needed to do something and because we were young and always broke, new peel & stick tiles it was.
It was a Friday, so once the kids were fed and sort of settled for the night the ex's drinking buddies arrived and we started trying to peel up the rest of the tiles.
Apparently the kids managed to find the only tiles that weren't firmly stuck.
So there we are trying to scrape off the glued down floor tiles with a putty knife. We managed to scrape off a few in pieces before the guys were ready for a beer break. While we were sitting there yakking, the cats started investigating the floor. We spent some time watching them try to cross the death trap of sticky. One cat made it across fine every time because she ran.
The other cat would stop after each paw was lifted and try to shake the sticky off with that look of total disgust only a cat can wear. While he was looking after one paw the other 3 paws had enough time to really stick to the floor. As the sober one of the bunch, I was still tired enough to find this hysterical. Every so often one of us would gently toss the cat into the middle of the floor just to watch him try to shake and wash the sticky off his paw, only to put it down and start all over again with the next paw.
Finally somebody came up with the idea to warm the tiles with a hairdryer as we scraped. By that time the guys had made a little too much progress into the beer, but with the hairdryer I was making some real progress on the floor. Eventually the buddies left, the ex went to bed, and after a couple more hours I had the floor scraped off.
The new tiles were stuck down the next day. Those tiles are still there. Fifteen years later if you're looking for them, you can see the battle-scars. If I'm looking for them I can see the memories of silly fun we used to have. I like that I can see those memories now, even if they carry a few battle-scars of their own.
I'm linking up with Yeah Write for a very special celebration. This week Yeah Write is hosting their 100th challenge. This month Yeah Write turns two. If you've got a post that fits the spirit of the Yeah Write community in 500 words or less come check us out.
Mine got along once. Then I walked into my kitchen and discovered that they had been using a butter knife to pry up my kitchen floor tiles.
It was one of those peel & stick floors, only the sticky part was kind of patchy so a handful of tiles came completely off. Another handful of tiles had all four corners lifted and broken off.
While the sticky wasn’t sticky enough to foil those little prying fingers and a couple of my butter knives, it was sticky enough to pull your socks off if you walked across the bare patches. We needed to do something and because we were young and always broke, new peel & stick tiles it was.
It was a Friday, so once the kids were fed and sort of settled for the night the ex's drinking buddies arrived and we started trying to peel up the rest of the tiles.
Apparently the kids managed to find the only tiles that weren't firmly stuck.
So there we are trying to scrape off the glued down floor tiles with a putty knife. We managed to scrape off a few in pieces before the guys were ready for a beer break. While we were sitting there yakking, the cats started investigating the floor. We spent some time watching them try to cross the death trap of sticky. One cat made it across fine every time because she ran.
The other cat would stop after each paw was lifted and try to shake the sticky off with that look of total disgust only a cat can wear. While he was looking after one paw the other 3 paws had enough time to really stick to the floor. As the sober one of the bunch, I was still tired enough to find this hysterical. Every so often one of us would gently toss the cat into the middle of the floor just to watch him try to shake and wash the sticky off his paw, only to put it down and start all over again with the next paw.
Finally somebody came up with the idea to warm the tiles with a hairdryer as we scraped. By that time the guys had made a little too much progress into the beer, but with the hairdryer I was making some real progress on the floor. Eventually the buddies left, the ex went to bed, and after a couple more hours I had the floor scraped off.
The new tiles were stuck down the next day. Those tiles are still there. Fifteen years later if you're looking for them, you can see the battle-scars. If I'm looking for them I can see the memories of silly fun we used to have. I like that I can see those memories now, even if they carry a few battle-scars of their own.
I'm linking up with Yeah Write for a very special celebration. This week Yeah Write is hosting their 100th challenge. This month Yeah Write turns two. If you've got a post that fits the spirit of the Yeah Write community in 500 words or less come check us out.
Saturday, March 9, 2013
Oh my God! You found one with boobies!
Yep. That's what I really said at work today. Shouted it actually.
I had to - the conveyors we had running are so loud.
You would have said it too if you had seen this.
The right "nipple" looked a lot better at 9 am. It was a long day for these ta tas.
Weekend Funnies is still live - link up a funny post you wrote from the past week or even month
I had to - the conveyors we had running are so loud.
You would have said it too if you had seen this.
The right "nipple" looked a lot better at 9 am. It was a long day for these ta tas.
Weekend Funnies is still live - link up a funny post you wrote from the past week or even month
Friday, March 8, 2013
Parenting Horror Stories and Weekend Funnies #2
When it comes to parenting teens I've got a motto. If nobody went to jail, nobody went to the hospital and the cops weren't at my door - I don't need the details.
I had to pull that one out of my ass when the oldest was around 16 and telling me about stuff he had already done that made me almost ill with worry.
So one night The Polish Guy and I are having a family dinner, my family and the sister that pretty much raised him. I happened to mention my theory to parenting teens. So she trotted out one of her teen parenting horror stories, because we've all got them right?
Picture her, laying on one of those air matresses in the middle of her above ground pool.
Her boys are behind the barn, playing with a bow and arrow. But she doesn't know that.
Next thing, one of her boys is at the side of the pool making conversation with her and checking out the bottom of the pool.
Seriously - if you're raising teens with dangly bits, you're just so damn grateful to have them actually talking to you that you won't notice much else. Your brain is too busy trying to figure out how to keep the convo going.
They never figured out why that pool always lost water until years later - when the full story came out.
Picture two teenaged boys behind a barn, fucking around with a bow and arrow. One of the arrows goes up and over the barn roof.
Of course the teenaged boy is going to run around the barn - only there's mom - on an air mattress in the middle of the pool. His arrow? Nowhere to be found.
Did it go in the pool?
So he goes and makes conversation with his mom. There's the arrow - stuck in the bottom of the pool.
The arrow that just missed puncturing either his mother, or the air mattress she was lying on.
Take a second to picture an air mattress with your mom jetting around. Propelled by escaping air.
He did the only thing possible - at least in the teenaged boy brain. He waited until his mom was done sunbathing and retrieved the arrow.
And then Never. Said. A. Damn. Word. about why the pool was always losing water.
Link Up to Weekend Funnies and help bring funny back to the weekends.
PS If you have no parenting war stories from raising teens, I'm trying really hard to not hate you.
I had to pull that one out of my ass when the oldest was around 16 and telling me about stuff he had already done that made me almost ill with worry.
So one night The Polish Guy and I are having a family dinner, my family and the sister that pretty much raised him. I happened to mention my theory to parenting teens. So she trotted out one of her teen parenting horror stories, because we've all got them right?
Picture her, laying on one of those air matresses in the middle of her above ground pool.
Her boys are behind the barn, playing with a bow and arrow. But she doesn't know that.
Next thing, one of her boys is at the side of the pool making conversation with her and checking out the bottom of the pool.
Seriously - if you're raising teens with dangly bits, you're just so damn grateful to have them actually talking to you that you won't notice much else. Your brain is too busy trying to figure out how to keep the convo going.
They never figured out why that pool always lost water until years later - when the full story came out.
Picture two teenaged boys behind a barn, fucking around with a bow and arrow. One of the arrows goes up and over the barn roof.
Of course the teenaged boy is going to run around the barn - only there's mom - on an air mattress in the middle of the pool. His arrow? Nowhere to be found.
Did it go in the pool?
So he goes and makes conversation with his mom. There's the arrow - stuck in the bottom of the pool.
The arrow that just missed puncturing either his mother, or the air mattress she was lying on.
Take a second to picture an air mattress with your mom jetting around. Propelled by escaping air.
He did the only thing possible - at least in the teenaged boy brain. He waited until his mom was done sunbathing and retrieved the arrow.
And then Never. Said. A. Damn. Word. about why the pool was always losing water.
Link Up to Weekend Funnies and help bring funny back to the weekends.
PS If you have no parenting war stories from raising teens, I'm trying really hard to not hate you.
Weekend Funnies #2
What's your funny flavor?
There's so many different types of humor out there. Dark humor, observational humor, slap stick. I love them all!
As bloggers most of us are of the of the observational flavor. Poking fun at everyday life while exagerating something trivial from our day or week.
We're hoping to get a comment along the lines of:
I laughed so hard I peed my pants!
This was so funny I shot my drink out of my nose!
Or better yet -
I shot my drink out of my nose and then pissed my pants while choking and laughing!
Let's bring the fun back to weekends - Link up to Weekend Funnies #2.
Rules & Strongly Worded Suggestions
Rule: Funny only. If you link up a tear jerker post, I don't care how awesome or funny the rest of your blog is - I will pull your link. The only tears allowed here are tears of laughter.
Rule: Yesterday I said no back-link. I lied, but only sort of. I won't make you post my tomato ass from the sidebar - just a link to this post will do the trick.
Rule: Only one post per blogger please.
Strongly Worded Suggestion: My preference is for a post from this past week, but I'll take it if it's within the past month because this is a new link-up.
Why is newer better you wonder?
Let's say Fantastic Fanny link's a post she just wrote. Her people are seeing it for the first time. While they're reading all about Fantastic Fanny's hilarious shopping misadventure they see the link to this post. Because they love Fantastic Fanny, they click it and read all of your awesomeness and love it.
Serendipity right?
When you link an older post, sure you might get it exposed to new readers, but your people have already read it. So they aren't going to follow your link to this post and meet some new to them bloggers.
A good link-up is like a pot-luck dinner where everybody contributes something, even your never married 60 year old Uncle who smells like mothballs. In this case you're bringing potential new readers for a dinner with your fellow link-upees.
Rule: Read the contributions of your fellow link-uppers.
Strongly Worded Suggestion: Try to leave some comment love for everyone. We all love seeing comments on our work. Give some love to get some love is my motto.
Rule: If you can't say something nice, or at least witty it's better to say nothing.
Strongly Worded Suggestion: When you title your link - don't use the title of your blog. We'll see that when we click your link. Which we're going to be dying to click because instead of your blog's name, you're going to use an appealing post title.
Which would you click on first? My Half Assed Life or Vibrators and Debit Cards?
Hint: Make sure your super appealing title is relevant to the post so the clicker stays, reads your post and falls in love with your flavor of funny.
We go live at 5 pm. My time - which is the same as Bogota Columbia, or Toronto Ontario.
There's so many different types of humor out there. Dark humor, observational humor, slap stick. I love them all!
As bloggers most of us are of the of the observational flavor. Poking fun at everyday life while exagerating something trivial from our day or week.
We're hoping to get a comment along the lines of:
I laughed so hard I peed my pants!
This was so funny I shot my drink out of my nose!
Or better yet -
I shot my drink out of my nose and then pissed my pants while choking and laughing!
Let's bring the fun back to weekends - Link up to Weekend Funnies #2.
Rules & Strongly Worded Suggestions
Rule: Funny only. If you link up a tear jerker post, I don't care how awesome or funny the rest of your blog is - I will pull your link. The only tears allowed here are tears of laughter.
Rule: Yesterday I said no back-link. I lied, but only sort of. I won't make you post my tomato ass from the sidebar - just a link to this post will do the trick.
Rule: Only one post per blogger please.
Strongly Worded Suggestion: My preference is for a post from this past week, but I'll take it if it's within the past month because this is a new link-up.
Why is newer better you wonder?
Let's say Fantastic Fanny link's a post she just wrote. Her people are seeing it for the first time. While they're reading all about Fantastic Fanny's hilarious shopping misadventure they see the link to this post. Because they love Fantastic Fanny, they click it and read all of your awesomeness and love it.
Serendipity right?
When you link an older post, sure you might get it exposed to new readers, but your people have already read it. So they aren't going to follow your link to this post and meet some new to them bloggers.
A good link-up is like a pot-luck dinner where everybody contributes something, even your never married 60 year old Uncle who smells like mothballs. In this case you're bringing potential new readers for a dinner with your fellow link-upees.
Rule: Read the contributions of your fellow link-uppers.
Strongly Worded Suggestion: Try to leave some comment love for everyone. We all love seeing comments on our work. Give some love to get some love is my motto.
Rule: If you can't say something nice, or at least witty it's better to say nothing.
Strongly Worded Suggestion: When you title your link - don't use the title of your blog. We'll see that when we click your link. Which we're going to be dying to click because instead of your blog's name, you're going to use an appealing post title.
Which would you click on first? My Half Assed Life or Vibrators and Debit Cards?
Hint: Make sure your super appealing title is relevant to the post so the clicker stays, reads your post and falls in love with your flavor of funny.
We go live at 5 pm. My time - which is the same as Bogota Columbia, or Toronto Ontario.
Thursday, March 7, 2013
Now that nobody's home during the day, I'd love being a stay-at-home mom.
I would be lying if I said I enjoyed being a stay at home mom when my kids were little. I mean don't get me wrong - I'm grateful it was an option for me.
It just wasn't a very fulfilling option. Maybe if we had a computer with internet and I had been writing a blog at the time I might have enjoyed it.
Picturing the things they would have gotten up to if I had been glued to a computer all day just gave me the shudders. I would have had an awesome mommy blog though. My readers would have been pissing themselves at the antics of my two.
Asshat #1 before he was an asshat: Mom, can I have some cheese?
Me: Yes, but please don't feed it to the cat again. It makes him puke.
Asshat #1 before he was an asshat: Mom, Casey pooked!
Every. Damn. Time.
I would have gotten a weeks worth of posts out of the time I napped a little bit longer than their nap - and woke up to find them peeling up my kitchen floor tiles. Followed by the late night of peeling the rest of the tiles up so we could re-tile. You know the sticky of peel-and-stick floor tiles doesn't come off right?
We discovered that cats and sticky floors are fucking hilarious. One of them would run right across and be fine. The other one would stop after every step to try to shake the sticky of his paw, giving the other three paws a chance to get firmly stuck. Every once in a while we would gently toss him into the middle of the floor. Just for shits and giggles.
We were young and yes we were assholes. There may or may not have been alcohol involved.
Who wouldn't drink after their lovely children had destroyed a floor?
These days though the Asshats are off doing their own thing during the day - one at work, the other in school or working for the summer.
I finally feel like I could rock the whole at home mom thing, if it weren't for those pesky details like feeding and sheltering the asshats.
Weekend Funnies will go live tomorrow at 5 pm. That's 5 pm my time - Torontoish. Which happens to be the same time zone as Bogota Columbia. I never could keep that time zone stuff straight.
It will stay live until Sunday midnight.
Still no button, so no back links yet - but I work Saturday's so your help in tweeting and facebooking and otherwise encouraging people to check us all out would be appreciated.
I also ask that you make a diligent effort to read your fellow link-uppers. It's a weekly link-up so if you have to go to Cousin Kate's wedding on Saturday and Uncle Bert's 50th birthday party on Sunday, maybe this isn't your weekend. We'll be here for you the weekend after.
I still want to be a stay-at-home mom to my dog though.
It just wasn't a very fulfilling option. Maybe if we had a computer with internet and I had been writing a blog at the time I might have enjoyed it.
Picturing the things they would have gotten up to if I had been glued to a computer all day just gave me the shudders. I would have had an awesome mommy blog though. My readers would have been pissing themselves at the antics of my two.
Asshat #1 before he was an asshat: Mom, can I have some cheese?
Me: Yes, but please don't feed it to the cat again. It makes him puke.
Asshat #1 before he was an asshat: Mom, Casey pooked!
Every. Damn. Time.
I would have gotten a weeks worth of posts out of the time I napped a little bit longer than their nap - and woke up to find them peeling up my kitchen floor tiles. Followed by the late night of peeling the rest of the tiles up so we could re-tile. You know the sticky of peel-and-stick floor tiles doesn't come off right?
We discovered that cats and sticky floors are fucking hilarious. One of them would run right across and be fine. The other one would stop after every step to try to shake the sticky of his paw, giving the other three paws a chance to get firmly stuck. Every once in a while we would gently toss him into the middle of the floor. Just for shits and giggles.
We were young and yes we were assholes. There may or may not have been alcohol involved.
Who wouldn't drink after their lovely children had destroyed a floor?
These days though the Asshats are off doing their own thing during the day - one at work, the other in school or working for the summer.
I finally feel like I could rock the whole at home mom thing, if it weren't for those pesky details like feeding and sheltering the asshats.
Weekend Funnies will go live tomorrow at 5 pm. That's 5 pm my time - Torontoish. Which happens to be the same time zone as Bogota Columbia. I never could keep that time zone stuff straight.
It will stay live until Sunday midnight.
Still no button, so no back links yet - but I work Saturday's so your help in tweeting and facebooking and otherwise encouraging people to check us all out would be appreciated.
I also ask that you make a diligent effort to read your fellow link-uppers. It's a weekly link-up so if you have to go to Cousin Kate's wedding on Saturday and Uncle Bert's 50th birthday party on Sunday, maybe this isn't your weekend. We'll be here for you the weekend after.
I still want to be a stay-at-home mom to my dog though.
Wednesday, March 6, 2013
Best hump day without a hump ever!
Remember the lift-truck certification I was supposed to do today?
I was nearly sick over it this morning. For the first 3 hours I was at work I was ready to burst into tears over the slightest thing. FYI - there may have been a little PMS happening too.
I went for the written part, and found out the actual drive-test would have to be another day. The trainer was off sick.
When I told my co-supervisor? He informed me he knew that first thing in the morning. No need to send flowers - he should be fine by tomorrow.
In other news - for the past week I've been working some long hours. Today, salvation arrived.
In the form of 8 boisterous, loud and fast as hell Jamaican ladies.
I knew last night they were going to be here, so I mentioned to one of our year-round workers (who is from Barbados but refers to herself as Jamaican) that for sure we were going to get out of there by 5 tonight.
She told me Don't hang your hat too high.
I only hung it a little too high - we were done at 6, but I don't have to go in until 7 tomorrow.
Sold!
Work just got fun y'all.
In addition to their lovely fast as hell selves - they came bearing gifts.
That green ribbon at the bottom of the label? It says OVERPROOF RUM.
I might take some Advil before I drink that.
Just to round of this lovely hump day even if there's nary a hump in sight?
That's right - I'm on Scary Mommy! 5 Ways Teens Are Grosser Babies!
Don't forget to come back on the weekend to link up for Weekend Funnies #2.
I was nearly sick over it this morning. For the first 3 hours I was at work I was ready to burst into tears over the slightest thing. FYI - there may have been a little PMS happening too.
I went for the written part, and found out the actual drive-test would have to be another day. The trainer was off sick.
When I told my co-supervisor? He informed me he knew that first thing in the morning. No need to send flowers - he should be fine by tomorrow.
In other news - for the past week I've been working some long hours. Today, salvation arrived.
In the form of 8 boisterous, loud and fast as hell Jamaican ladies.
I knew last night they were going to be here, so I mentioned to one of our year-round workers (who is from Barbados but refers to herself as Jamaican) that for sure we were going to get out of there by 5 tonight.
She told me Don't hang your hat too high.
I only hung it a little too high - we were done at 6, but I don't have to go in until 7 tomorrow.
Sold!
Work just got fun y'all.
In addition to their lovely fast as hell selves - they came bearing gifts.
That green ribbon at the bottom of the label? It says OVERPROOF RUM.
I might take some Advil before I drink that.
Just to round of this lovely hump day even if there's nary a hump in sight?
That's right - I'm on Scary Mommy! 5 Ways Teens Are Grosser Babies!
Don't forget to come back on the weekend to link up for Weekend Funnies #2.
Tuesday, March 5, 2013
I've Got To Stop Ordering Pizza So Often
It's entirely possible I may have been ordering Pizza a little too often around here.
The number one sign would have been the accumulation of empty pizza boxes in my house. Which is sort of justified. You aren't supposed to throw cardboard in the regular garbage, so in order to throw them out I either have to hide them in a garbage bag which means breaking them down, or I have to recycle them which means breaking them down.
Taking the garbage out is Asshat #2's job. It happens reliably one week out of four. Do you really think he's going to remember to take out the recycle bins one day later? Do you think I want to spend an hour after I get home sorting and preparing the recycling so the driver won't throw it all over the side of the road?
Ain't nobody got time for that!
Then there's the fact that the first thing I noticed when I entered my bedroom tonight was that my mom (who was over and folded laundry for me today!) had taken away the pizza box that was on the printer.
And maybe the one that was on the side of the bed I don't sleep on. What? It was a baby pizza so there was plenty of room in my queen bed for it and me. Pizza boxes don't snore or fart either.
The biggest clue though is the dog. My normally timid dog will greet you like an old friend if you are carrying a red pizza bag. There are people he has known since he was a puppy that make him run for his life when he sees them. Okay, he doesn't really run for his life. He runs for his mommy, and then cowers behind my legs shivering.
But the pizza delivery guy is always a friend. Any pizza delivery guy - he loves them all.
He's a slut like that.
Tonight someone just pulled into the neighbors. The dog started running around crying and puppy yipping like there was a bunny in the yard or his gramma was here.
I firmly believe he thought the pizza guy was here. Probably because that's exactly how he acted the last time we had pizza.
So yes, it's entirely possible I've been ordering pizza way to often.
The number one sign would have been the accumulation of empty pizza boxes in my house. Which is sort of justified. You aren't supposed to throw cardboard in the regular garbage, so in order to throw them out I either have to hide them in a garbage bag which means breaking them down, or I have to recycle them which means breaking them down.
Taking the garbage out is Asshat #2's job. It happens reliably one week out of four. Do you really think he's going to remember to take out the recycle bins one day later? Do you think I want to spend an hour after I get home sorting and preparing the recycling so the driver won't throw it all over the side of the road?
Ain't nobody got time for that!
Then there's the fact that the first thing I noticed when I entered my bedroom tonight was that my mom (who was over and folded laundry for me today!) had taken away the pizza box that was on the printer.
And maybe the one that was on the side of the bed I don't sleep on. What? It was a baby pizza so there was plenty of room in my queen bed for it and me. Pizza boxes don't snore or fart either.
The biggest clue though is the dog. My normally timid dog will greet you like an old friend if you are carrying a red pizza bag. There are people he has known since he was a puppy that make him run for his life when he sees them. Okay, he doesn't really run for his life. He runs for his mommy, and then cowers behind my legs shivering.
But the pizza delivery guy is always a friend. Any pizza delivery guy - he loves them all.
He's a slut like that.
Tonight someone just pulled into the neighbors. The dog started running around crying and puppy yipping like there was a bunny in the yard or his gramma was here.
I firmly believe he thought the pizza guy was here. Probably because that's exactly how he acted the last time we had pizza.
So yes, it's entirely possible I've been ordering pizza way to often.
Monday, March 4, 2013
You Want Me To Drive A What?
On Wednesday - I'm supposed to get certified to drive lift-truck. I'm quaking in my smelly running shoes.
Which is the most action those shoes will ever see! Why don't we call them everyday shoes? It's not as if I'll ever be running in them!
I mean sure, I know how to drive a car, I can even drive stick shift! Lift-trucks are different though. The back wheels are the wheels that steer - not the front. I'm convinced it will be like that one time I tried to back up a trailer - with the trailer going in the opposite direction I wanted it to.
There's levers too. My car doesn't have any of that shit. There are no forks that can be raised, tilted, and even shifted from side to side. Just one lever for the windshield wipers and another one for the lights. Sometimes I still have trouble with the one for the lights - ask my Dad who has had to drive 15 minutes each way to give me ajump boost.
FYI? Never walk into a group of strange men and or co-workers and ask for a jump. The proper terminology is boost.
Also? If you are in the habit of leaving your lights on it's best to have your own set of jumper cables. Men these days aren't as manly and prepared as they used to be.
Maybe this is why I'm still single? Am I too manly? Nope - the vagina is still there.
I'm no spring chicken here folks. Forty-two just before that fat fucker Santa came around. How the hell am I going to learn to drive a lift-truck now?
Oh well - if I don't get it at least two of my staff will be right there beside me. Surely one of them will get it. Hopefully both of them - even if I only just remembered to let one of them know he would be going for his lift-truck certification this week.
Surprise - I nominated you. It's a good thing most young guys are okay with learning to drive a lift-truck.
Got a funny post? Come link up on Friday midnight (or is it Saturday then?) for the Weekend Funnies. Saturday morning works too, or Sunday. I should have a button for you sometime this week. If I ever make it home from work before bed-time.
Which is the most action those shoes will ever see! Why don't we call them everyday shoes? It's not as if I'll ever be running in them!
I mean sure, I know how to drive a car, I can even drive stick shift! Lift-trucks are different though. The back wheels are the wheels that steer - not the front. I'm convinced it will be like that one time I tried to back up a trailer - with the trailer going in the opposite direction I wanted it to.
There's levers too. My car doesn't have any of that shit. There are no forks that can be raised, tilted, and even shifted from side to side. Just one lever for the windshield wipers and another one for the lights. Sometimes I still have trouble with the one for the lights - ask my Dad who has had to drive 15 minutes each way to give me a
FYI? Never walk into a group of strange men and or co-workers and ask for a jump. The proper terminology is boost.
Also? If you are in the habit of leaving your lights on it's best to have your own set of jumper cables. Men these days aren't as manly and prepared as they used to be.
Maybe this is why I'm still single? Am I too manly? Nope - the vagina is still there.
I'm no spring chicken here folks. Forty-two just before that fat fucker Santa came around. How the hell am I going to learn to drive a lift-truck now?
Oh well - if I don't get it at least two of my staff will be right there beside me. Surely one of them will get it. Hopefully both of them - even if I only just remembered to let one of them know he would be going for his lift-truck certification this week.
Surprise - I nominated you. It's a good thing most young guys are okay with learning to drive a lift-truck.
Got a funny post? Come link up on Friday midnight (or is it Saturday then?) for the Weekend Funnies. Saturday morning works too, or Sunday. I should have a button for you sometime this week. If I ever make it home from work before bed-time.
Sunday, March 3, 2013
Who the hell walks around their house bare-assed naked at 3 in the afternoon?
You know how sometimes you see something so horrifying you never forget it? It becomes indelibly burned into your brain and you are forever after stuck with that image popping into your head at odd times?
Picture me one spring Sunday afternoon, driving home from the Grocery Store. Rattling along merrily in my car, radio blaring enjoying the beauty of the day. Then I see a little dog running across the road. The little dog makes it safely - whew!
My Brain: Who the hell lets a little dog like that run around loose! Anything could happen to it - look how tiny it is.
I keep driving, but my eyes are tracking the little dog's progress. As I drive by, I try not to look in the yard. The yard where the house is on the back of the property so all of the yard is front yard. The house where the man who looks like Borat sunbathes in his front yard.
I shit you not, he even has one of those metal reflector things. My eyes are drawn there in spite of my best efforts. Whew, at least it's too cold for Borat to be in his front yard. I really hate it when he's out there in his neon green Speedo. Blech!
My eyes continue to track the little dog as he heads for the front door.
My Brain: Oh I guess it must be Borat's dog.
I notice the front door is open. Then I see it.
He is standing in his doorway, off to the side a little but still in plain sight. It's Borat and the fucker is naked. Completely stark naked. I see him in profile. With his potbelly, his hairiness and his pecker hanging down. Oh My God!
Eww, my hand leaves the gear shift and claps over my eyes.
My Brain: Oh My God! Did I really just see that? Who walks around their house naked at three in the afternoon? Why wouldn't you grab a robe, a pair of shorts, some tighty whities, for god's sake man - something - before you let the dog out to tinkle?
The split second passes. I drive by, trying desperately to block the image from my mind. Trying even more desperately to not imagine what this man was doing at three in the afternoon bare assed naked.
Surely there was a mat in front of the door he could have draped over himself!
I still flinch when I drive by the house where the man who looks like Borat lives.
Huge Thank You's going out to the 6 who joined my first Weekend Funnies link-up and extended some blog love to their fellow link-upees. If you weren't able to drop by they were:
As Vinny C's It with What's Done In Darkness
The Dose of Reality with Never Let Anyone Steal Your Sparkle
Jeneral Insanity with There is yet another conspiracy at the asylum...
Bad Word Mama with Reading Ruined My Sex Life!
Maple Syrupland with Denim Deathmatch
Random Musings and Mutterings of Aud the Broad with What is this in your backpack?
Now that I know I can successfully add a link-up we will go live next Friday at midnight - or would that be Saturday?
Hopefully by then I will have a button for you to insert in your post that doesn't include a tomato ass with dangly bits. I'm sure not everyone wants to display that on their blog - even if it is a gorgeous tomato ass.
Friday, March 1, 2013
Remember When The Highlight Of The Weekend Was The Weekend Funnies?
Remember when the highlight of the weekend was reading the color comics in the weekend paper?
It used to be the first thing I read on Saturdays.
As I went through my different life stages my favorites changed. Family Circle, Marmaduke, Blondie and others like it when I was young.
Calvin and Hobbes was always my first go to when Asshat #1 was young. I could identify with Calvin's parents - and see where my life was heading. For a while, we had an orange cat called Hobbes. In the cat world - he totally rode the short bus and was licking the windows too.
As my guys got older Zits became another favorite of mine. It so perfectly captures the entire parenting tweens and teens reality. We even have a few Zits books because my mom always tries to give the gift of reading in at least one form when that fat fucker Santa is getting ready to make an appearance.
Now we get most of our news on-line. Our comics are Someecards, and our Facebook timeline.
Let's bring the funny back to weekends. Link up your most recent funny blog post. Come back and read the other contributors. Tweet it, Facebook it, comment and maybe find a new funny blogger to follow.
The rules:
Funny only please. No offense to you as a blogger but I will boot your post if it's a tear jerker. The only tears allowed here are tears of laughter. You can tell me your latest parenting or life horror story - as long as I'm snorting something out of my nose because you tell it funny.
Include a link to this post in your post you are linking. I will get around to creating a badge - hopefully by next week.
Ideally, I want to see a recent post. Preferably within the last week, but I'll take the last month - for now.
One link per blog please.
This is going to be a small link up at first - so please take the time to give some love to your fellow link uppers. Comment love, tweet love, Facebook love - all or any of them will be appreciated by your fellow link uppers. If we get big enough - I'll bring in voting.
I work Saturdays - all day. So if you have issues it may be evening before I can try to apply my limited technical skills to your situation. However, feel free to email me at myhalfassedlifehere@gmail.com. I check in before work and over my lunch hour while scarfing down my food, and during breaks - which is why I always exceed my data minutes on my phone plan.
For now - I have the titles set to 50 characters. If that's too short for some of you let me know - If it works appearance wise, I'll make it longer. Titles say a lot about a blog so make it witty, make it true to the content and make it appealing. I strongly recommend you use a flashy or catchy title relevant to the post to get page views. We'll see your blog name when we click the link so draw us in first with an irresistible title.
Dark humor, sarcasm, situational - whatever your own funny flavor is let's show it off!
I'm getting busy at my paying job - so breaking with past history this is my weekend post. So your link will stay live and at the top of my blog for the weekend. Which is perfect - it's the few days of the week I have time to dedicate to promoting your funny posts, I have another excuse to avoid or ignore my housework on the weekend, and I can get myself set up for the week on my own blog so I'll have more time to read and comment on your blog during the week.
It used to be the first thing I read on Saturdays.
As I went through my different life stages my favorites changed. Family Circle, Marmaduke, Blondie and others like it when I was young.
Calvin and Hobbes was always my first go to when Asshat #1 was young. I could identify with Calvin's parents - and see where my life was heading. For a while, we had an orange cat called Hobbes. In the cat world - he totally rode the short bus and was licking the windows too.
As my guys got older Zits became another favorite of mine. It so perfectly captures the entire parenting tweens and teens reality. We even have a few Zits books because my mom always tries to give the gift of reading in at least one form when that fat fucker Santa is getting ready to make an appearance.
Now we get most of our news on-line. Our comics are Someecards, and our Facebook timeline.
Let's bring the funny back to weekends. Link up your most recent funny blog post. Come back and read the other contributors. Tweet it, Facebook it, comment and maybe find a new funny blogger to follow.
The rules:
Funny only please. No offense to you as a blogger but I will boot your post if it's a tear jerker. The only tears allowed here are tears of laughter. You can tell me your latest parenting or life horror story - as long as I'm snorting something out of my nose because you tell it funny.
Include a link to this post in your post you are linking. I will get around to creating a badge - hopefully by next week.
Ideally, I want to see a recent post. Preferably within the last week, but I'll take the last month - for now.
One link per blog please.
This is going to be a small link up at first - so please take the time to give some love to your fellow link uppers. Comment love, tweet love, Facebook love - all or any of them will be appreciated by your fellow link uppers. If we get big enough - I'll bring in voting.
I work Saturdays - all day. So if you have issues it may be evening before I can try to apply my limited technical skills to your situation. However, feel free to email me at myhalfassedlifehere@gmail.com. I check in before work and over my lunch hour while scarfing down my food, and during breaks - which is why I always exceed my data minutes on my phone plan.
For now - I have the titles set to 50 characters. If that's too short for some of you let me know - If it works appearance wise, I'll make it longer. Titles say a lot about a blog so make it witty, make it true to the content and make it appealing. I strongly recommend you use a flashy or catchy title relevant to the post to get page views. We'll see your blog name when we click the link so draw us in first with an irresistible title.
Dark humor, sarcasm, situational - whatever your own funny flavor is let's show it off!
I'm getting busy at my paying job - so breaking with past history this is my weekend post. So your link will stay live and at the top of my blog for the weekend. Which is perfect - it's the few days of the week I have time to dedicate to promoting your funny posts, I have another excuse to avoid or ignore my housework on the weekend, and I can get myself set up for the week on my own blog so I'll have more time to read and comment on your blog during the week.
Really - You Have The Wrong Number
I had a very funny text conversation today. Unfortunately my Android phone does not support screen shots - so you'll have to take my word for it.
Wrong Number: Ed. Do u do NJ. Email me your info anyway. Thanks Deb
Wrong Number: (A name) mortgage referral in NJ (followed by a number). Let me know what happens. On the road.
Me: Wrong number.
Wrong Number: Try his email (followed by an email address). Sent u his email hope u recd.
Me: Sorry - you have the wrong number.
Wrong Number: I emailed him your number I emailed u his info.
Me: Well I hope you emailed the correct number because this isn't it.
Wrong Number: That is what is on email he sent me. Send him an email. I sent your info to him as well.
Me: I have no idea who you are trying to text but you have the wrong number.
Me: This is too funny.
Wrong Number: So sorry wrong area code.
It was like a text conversation between Abbot and Costello. If you're too young to know who they are then raspberries to you. They did a hilarious skit about Who is on first. If you want to see it or hear it go HERE.
If you can't remember black and white television - you probably have never seen Abbot and Costello.
Got a funny blog post? How about joining me for a Sunday Funnies link up?
Wrong Number: Ed. Do u do NJ. Email me your info anyway. Thanks Deb
Wrong Number: (A name) mortgage referral in NJ (followed by a number). Let me know what happens. On the road.
Me: Wrong number.
Wrong Number: Try his email (followed by an email address). Sent u his email hope u recd.
Me: Sorry - you have the wrong number.
Wrong Number: I emailed him your number I emailed u his info.
Me: Well I hope you emailed the correct number because this isn't it.
Wrong Number: That is what is on email he sent me. Send him an email. I sent your info to him as well.
Me: I have no idea who you are trying to text but you have the wrong number.
Me: This is too funny.
Wrong Number: So sorry wrong area code.
It was like a text conversation between Abbot and Costello. If you're too young to know who they are then raspberries to you. They did a hilarious skit about Who is on first. If you want to see it or hear it go HERE.
If you can't remember black and white television - you probably have never seen Abbot and Costello.
Got a funny blog post? How about joining me for a Sunday Funnies link up?
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