Shopping made easy

When loading the truck/car/vehicle of your choice (please make sure it’s actually YOUR vehicle) ensure that any boxes of canned soft drinks are securely placed on the floor of said vehicle and not thrown haphazardly onto the back seat of the vehicle.  Upon returning home and opening door of said vehicle, the box of canned soft drinks will subsequently, NOT inadvertently take flight and fall angrily to the ground sending cans of drinks wantonly all over the driveway and under said vehicle causing you to lose your shit (aka laugh so loud you scare the neighbour’s dog who barks in unison to your raucous laughter)which then makes you pee your pants a little whilst attempting to retrieve said cans of pop from under the vehicle causing Hubbie to stare unbelievingly at his wife from the screen door as she is laughing, peeing and crawling under the truck in what he can only hope to be a short-lived dropping of groceries and not her final foray into mental instability.  Yeah.

Gliding is Easier than actually walking up the stairs…so they say

Hey Grandma! Me next! Wait, I gotta get ma wine and cheezies…

I must be getting old.  I was watching TV one night and the Acorn Stairlift commercial comes on and instead of getting up to get a snack I watched it in rapt attention while thinking  “What a great idea! We should SO get one of those!” …totally oblivious to the fact that the main guy selling the damned thing had oxygen tubing in his nose and was close to ninety…I could picture me gliding gracefully up the stairs while the dog is chasing me, nipping my toes and me gleefully laughing at her saying “Hahaha…You can’t catch me, you can’t catch me”…I’m so mature.

Is it me, or is that breeze a little strong today?

The wind was close to 100km an hour this morning and when I let the dog go out to pee, she almost took flight.  The first thing that popped into my head was “Toto come back!  Come back, Toto!” and  “Aunti Em!  Aunti Em!”  Of course, watching Twister the other night probably didn’t help.  Nobody even broke out in a song…and no munchkins were hiding in my backyard ready to deliver flowers to me in Technicolor…so disappointing.

They’re called GRAMMY awards, not GRANNY awards…ugh

So, Sunday evening is DH at ma house so the ladies will be gathering for the GRAMMY awards…this is where we gather in our yoga pants and ponytails and dish on the dresses and how Kanye can’t possibly embarrass himself yet again by jumping onstage…can he?  That would be awesome.  Somebody pay that man to do that again, will ‘ya?  I’ve put together a little contest to make the night  interesting…not that it isn’t usually, I mean we’re a fun group even if some of us leave at 9:30…and have one glass of wine…and manage to NOT injure, drop, spill, spit or harass anybody.  The harassment and spitting usually takes place AFTER 10:00.  We save the best shit for later in the evening, yo.  I was going to ask the ladies to either dress up or dress in jammies, but that was done last year and we can’t be copying shit.  That’s like plagiarizing only without words…We could wear housecoats and don curlers to look like GRANNIES AT THE GRAMMYS…if only I had an Acorn stair lift installed, we could take turns riding it and teasing the dog, whilst drinking wine and throwing our cheezies at Kanye.

BEAT HIM DOWN, TAYLOR…jackass…

I see THAT as a DH for the future….