Posts Tagged ‘bizarro’

“I Keep a Flat Top”

January 29, 2009

So a couple of years ago I was going through a
mighty-a-lonely stretch and signed up for Yahoo Personals. Talked with a few nice guys, met a couple of crazies, the usual.

Every so often, Yahoo very kindly sends me my ‘Recent
Matches!’ even though I took down my profile.

This weekend I opened one, and
was shocked to find out what I had been missing!

 

Check out a few quotes from the potential Mans-O-My-Dreams:

              I’m still very pure as I haven’t met Ms. Right yet.

             NICE GUY WHO GETS ALONE WITH EVERYBODY.

 

             I keep a flat top.

             If you donot expect to much, you will not be disappointed!

             SO SWEET I WILL MAKE YOURE TEETH ROT

             I’m an Investment You won’t Regret in

            Is it deer season yet?

and then the truly creative and ever-popular:
                “HEY”

Seriously, it makes me happy to be single.

cartoon 032

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Cleaning house is dirty business!

July 6, 2007

I’m on a roll.

No, not that kind of roll.

But yum.

Anyway, I’m feeling very productive lately, takin’ names and kickin’ butt.  Woo!

I get home from work and feel like I have to do something. Not sure about where to start, I ask Mr. Clean what he thinks.

“Well, now, it looks like your kitchen floor could use a little extra shine, and maybe you could sweep the porch and patch that hole in the wall, and scrub the windows, and get a ladder and then you could–”  he pauses as I cut him off.

“Are you freakin’ crazy?!” I yelp. “I was thinking maybe a load of laundry and a quick wipe of the counter. I could brush those crumbs under the fridge and it’ll look great….Thanks for the  tips, though.” I squeeze him back in his shiny bottle and shove him under the counter.

Geez.

I go to gather up some clothes out of the bathroom. After I make two piles, I notice my nail polish under the edge of the cabinet.  I’ve been looking for it for weeks, so I sit down on the edge of the tub to do a touch-up.

Nice.

I feel so good about that I decide to give myself a little facial. Quick mud-mask is always fun.  As I wait for it to dry, I flip through an old People magazine.

Ooh, I love crosswords! The People ones are always so easy.

Hmm, a tough one…what was the name of Gary Shandling’s TV show?

Oh, yeah, the “Its the Gary Shandling Show”!  He was such a creative guy, I wonder what happened.

After tripping over my laundry piles twice, I remember what I was supposed to be doing.

Ugh.

Sigh….

I carry the clothes to the laundry room and drop them on the floor.

Opening the cabinet to get the detergent, I —- Ooh! Picture hooks! I’ve been wanting to put that painting up in my room.  Off I go in search of a hammer.

You’d think it might be in the toolbox, right?

Silly rabbit.

After a half an hour of fruitless searching (which turns up a missing earring, a book I’d been meaning to finish, and some stale goldfish crackers), I have no hammer.

Also, in the course of my search, I have now lost the picture hooks.

I sit down and realize, whew, I’m worn out from all this productivity.

With all that I’ve gotten done, I deserve a nap.

Jealous of Evel Knievel

April 20, 2007
He’s also reckless enough to climb the neighbor’s fence, knowing that there are two sweet little kitties over there, just waiting to kick his furry little butt!Maybe it is just an age thing. I was reading someone’s blog earlier about how age can affect relationships.

But how does age affect your mind? Okay, I know, you start to forget things, etc etc. But I mean your actions–holding back from what you want to do, or used to do, because you’re afraid?

When do we stop doing normal kid things because of fear?  I remember jumping off of walls, climbing to the tops of trees, and turning cartwheels til I thought I’d throw up. I’d hang upside down from the playground bars and let go.

One house I lived in had a very long, very steep driveway. At the bottom of it was a row of very large, very solid boulders. My brother and I would ride down the driveway in a small metal Tonka dump truck. The trick was to wipe out at the bottom so you wouldn’t hit the rocks.

Another house had two floors, and we would put my mattress on the stair landing, jump onto it from the top stair, and then swing the rest of the way down via sheets they had tied to the bannister rails.

I have scars from scrapes and cuts and close calls from trying to keep up with my big brothers. Too many to count. Of course, the boys were even ‘braver’ than me and had numerous broken bones, staples in their scalp, stitches, etc.

If you asked me to do any of that today, I’d hesitate. Actually, I’d probably check your forehead and ask if you’re crazy!

Why the fear now?

Is it wisdom? …Knowing that cracked ribs is probably pretty painful is a good tidbit to keep in mind whilst swinging from a tree branch by your ankles.

Is it age? …Knowing I’m getting older, and am a lot heavier than I was at age 6 makes a difference.  Somebody told me recently that climbing trees isn’t very ladylike. Of course, I told them to shove off and promptly climbed the first tree I found.  I won’t tell you how ungraceful my descent was, though.

Is it because I’m taller? …It’s a lot farther to fall now, and greatly increases the chances of aforementioned cracked ribs.  Plus you can see a lot farther, like exactly how far it is down that hill you’re about to roll down head-over-heels, and how many thorny bushes and rocks are along the way!

Of course, some people will never outgrow their recklessness and their enjoyment of it. Maybe it even makes it more fun, knowing exactly what will happen if you fall, crash, or let go…

Sometimes I wish I could be one of those people, driving racecars at 300 mph, jumping off cliffs, doing backflips on a skateboard…

 

But then, I really don’t like hospitals all that much.

 

So yesterday it rained most of the morning. I was home with Little Man and we were just hanging out watching movies and such. I realized I hadn’t seen my cat in awhile, so I went to look for him (usually he’s my little stalking shadow, who quietly ‘happens’ to always be in the same room as me).

I found him a few minutes later, cowering in the darkened bathroom. “What are you doing, you mad thing?” I asked him (yes, I talk to my cat like he can answer me).

He mewed pitfully at me, and then I remembered–it’s raining. He has always been scared of thunder, then he came to be scared of windy rainy days, and now…he’s scared of a slow drizzle. The way it was raining, I’d likely get more wet standing near the tub while Nick takes a bath!

When did this happen? Is it because he’s older?

The funny thing is, this cat LOVES water. He pesters me endlessly to get me to turn on the sink so he can drink out of it. He’d probably even do this if it occurred to him: