Tag Archives: friends

The Email

Posted in Conversations With, Misguided Musings by

The following is an actual email I JUST SENT to all of my DH ladies.  THEY’RE GOING TO BE AFTER ME SOON!!
  Enjoy…

Dear Things,

It is with a heavy heart that I must send you this email.  You have all been trusted and dear friends of mine and I realize this news may come as a shock to you, but I really must impart this most disturbing turn of events.

I don’t want you all to be dismayed by this news or have it shatter your ideal image of me (just go with it), but I feel you all must know the truth.  I have spent the better part of the afternoon rehearsing how I would say this without causing you pain or therapy for your families.  I have agonized how I would word it gently and without undue stress, however there is no easy way. 

I BURNED A BAG OF POPCORN. IT’S NOT JUST BURNT.  IT’S BLACK. TOTALLY INEDIBLE.  FUCKING TOTALLY BLACK. LIKE NOT EVEN REASONABLE.

There.  I’ve said it.  I’ve managed to pick out the white bits, but really it’s the goddamned microwave’s fault! 

THAT’S WHAT THE POPCORN BUTTON IS FOR. 

Seriously, if that button wasn’t there we would have to estimate the cooking time and who among us gives a shit about that? Oh, right.  Nurse Betty.  My bad.

Look it's Nurse Betty waiting for the popcorn!!

Look it’s Nurse Betty waiting for the popcorn!!

But other than Bree-Clone, who would stand at the microwave waiting for the popcorn to pop.  Watching minute after minute, interminable second after second as the popcorn slowly comes to white puffy heaven, only this time it went to black pieces of soot-like filth. I have more important shit to be at, like, HELLOOO, spider solitaire and ma wonderful stu-dents!  Ugh…

Anywho, I thought I would just let you all know this awful news before you heard it from God knows where and the RNC is called and they want all the surveillance tape from the cameras in the building to document what truly went down.

Jeesh, it’s not like I left a burned bag lying carelessly on the side of the road, or anything….

I appreciate your understanding and truly value our friendship.  I hope you all find a way to forgive me and move on from all of this undue tragedy.

Yours in popcorn-popping,

K

Saving the World One GPS At A Time

Posted in Conversations With, Doggie Diaries by

D1: OH MY GOD THE DOG JUST SHIT AND NOW SHE’S PLAYING IN IT! 

Me:  Perhaps you should tell her to stop

D1: OH MY GOD NOW SHE’S RUNNING ALL OVER THE HOUSE!  EWWWWW!!

Me:  Perhaps you could catch her so it doesn’t infest the floors with dog feces

D1: OH MY GOD SHE THINKS I’M PLAYING WITH HER AND NOW SHE WON’T STOP! 

Me:  HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!

D1: IT’S NOT FUNNY!!

Me:  I used to have to run after you for the exact same thing when you were a baby!  HAHAHAHAHAHAHA

D1:  WHAT??!!  That’s not helping.

Me:  No, but it is funny….

What? It wasn't me! WANNA PLAY?!

What? It wasn’t me! WANNA PLAY?!

Below is an excerpt from an email I sent to ma DH ladies last week.  It seemed to generate a lot of discussion.  Hmmm….

Now that spring has sprung and kids have already begun to get lost, I suggest the following to keep the kiddies safe and the mommies sane:

 

* have a GPS locator installed on your kids’ shoes.  It saves a lot of texting, calling, yelling, screaming and crying.  AND, it’s kickass to have a GPS installed in your kid’s shoe.  True Story.

 

* Circulate a map of the area with the areas highlighted where the bodies may be buried with instructions that the kids stay away from there.  Then, because we know our children so well, have zombie-like mannequins buried in very shallow graves so when they do look for them, they will have the shit scared out of them.  Then they can come running home and you can all say what all mothers have been destined to say for centuries “I told you never to go there!!  Listen to your mother!  I know what I”m talking about!  Now get upstairs and put on clean underwear!”  

 

* Post signs for a non-existent neighbourhood watch program and install fake video cameras at every lamp post.  It’s creepy and the kids will be ominously looking skyward and waving at the cameras.  Visitors to the street will wonder what the fuck is wrong with these kids who are randomly waving and looking at the lampposts.  They’ll call city hall and then city hall will inspect the street, find the name-withheld-for-obvious-reason’s in violation of every lawn infraction imaginable and evict them.   Perfect. Solution. 

 

I could so solve the world’s socio-economic problems if just given half a chance and some alcohol…

 

This is why I get invited to DH every other week.  I may actually do some of this shit!

Fart Dreams. What Else Is There?

Posted in Misguided Musings by

The voices in my head that reverberate incessantly are retaliating in the most resourceful way they can by imposing the oddest dreams imaginable during my REM or whatever it’s called, sleep.  Last night I dreamt about snot and farts.  No really.  The epitome of class and the higher echelons of elegance.  Snot and farts.  My dreams are awesome. 

At one point in the dream, I had a huge booger that was in my nose and the only way to extract it was with tweezers.  When I did, it was a green ball with spikes. Not that I usually pick my nose…or use tweezers for that purpose.  BUT A SNOT BALL WITH SPIKES?!  Who dreams up that shit?  Apparently, I do.  Twelve year old boys everywhere want me as their mom. 

Later in my dream I am participating in a ritual dance of sorts where I am prancing and flailing around as if to dance in procession when suddenly “SQQQQUUUUUEEEEETTTTTT” goes my ass in rhythm to the music.  I stop.  The AUDIENCE, yes, AUDIENCE, withdraws into silent disgust in my abhorrent display of gassiness.  With little choice but to look elsewhere in bewilderment as to the source of the fart, I blame it on a young faceless girl behind me.  “Oh, no that was all you princess” somebody said…I turn to a giggling audience and walk silently offstage, the blond girl following haplessly behind me only to hear, once again a “SSSQQQQUUUUEEEETTTT”.  That was her and I look appalled and not at all impressed that she had the absolute gall to copy me.  I am mortified that she just farted in front of MY AUDIENCE.  Wait…didn’t I just do that?  Yeah, but it’s okay for me.  I was dancing.  Totally justified.  And maybe a little fucked. up.

I’m not entirely sure why these dreams are haunting me in a most peculiar way.  There were other nuances to the dream that I can’t describe just for the mere fact they were so bizarre that I probably would not be able to do them justice.  I mean, when one dreams of spiked snot balls…it’s all a little weird isn’t it?

I’ve had weird dreams that involve people that have been dead for years.  The creepiest one was the other night.  I dreamt I was at my brother’s funeral again. He died in 1986 in a motorcycle accident.  I dreamt that I was at his funeral, but it wasn’t HIS  funeral.  it was different with different people and my boss was there.  There was nowhere for family to sit as our seats were taken and I kept saying “This isn’t my brother’s funeral. That was a long time ago.  This isn’t it” and then the dream ended.  I found out last week, one of the DH lady’s cousin died tragically in a motorcycle accident the day after I had that dream.   Kinda creepy, huh?  As I learned more about him, he closely mirrored my brother….

So, I’m hoping my dream tonight isn’t a tragic one.  I’ll also take one without the spikey snot balls and farts, thank you very much. Maybe one involving Johnny Depp and chocolate???  Hmmm….

 

My sign...notice the decorative heart and flowers...I think Hubby should rethink his position on this. It's awesome

What I said after all my dreaming…

Appropriate Signage For Weekend Plans

Posted in Misguided Musings by

Aside from the obvious martyrdom I intend to pretend to endure throughout this weekend, I thought I would share my ever-so-exciting-plans.  They include, but are not limited to, the following:

·       * Drinking copious quantities of alcohol while attempting to spell alcohol (it’s difficult even sober. Which I totally am at this moment.  No, really I am.)

·       * Hanging up the print I said I was going to hang up last weekend but didn’t because Hubby was his usual uncooperative self.  And he was busy cleaning out the basement or some foolish sort of thing that has no bearing on me whatsoever.  Yeah.

·        *Start my memoirs…it’s a long and involved project.  I’m planning on a cool title…which is where I am currently stuck.  For the past ten years.  No judging.  Or suggestions of titles like “My Memoirs”.  Also not available are “This Shit Really Happened” or “I Have No Idea How I Got This Way” or “Freud’s An Ass”.  According to Google those titles are all taken.  I know I was disappointed too.

·        *Hammy The Hamster II has subsequently bit the dust, so cleaning out his cage was D1’s responsibility but due to the obvious emotional trauma sustained, I will probably throw the deliciously pink abode ceremoniously into the trash.  And then burn the shit in the backyard and invite the neighbours over for a bonfire.  S’mores anyone??

·        *Harrass the government for grant money so I can live independently in Grand Turk while crafting my memoirs that currently have no title.   Or content.

·        *Harrass my children for their assistance in projects I have no intention of finishing or participating in.

·        *Watch an entire movie without hearing the phrase “WHAT ARE YOU WATCHING THIS FOR?”  The obvious reply “BECAUSE I FUCKING WANT TO” will be taped to my forehead so no verbal response would be necessary.

*The aforementioned “BECAUSE I FUCKING WANT TO”  will be affixed to my forehead for the entire weekend because really, it would avoid pretty much every question that will inevitably float my way.  I suggest the same for everyone.   Maybe I should make some in advance and sell them on ebay….mommies will eat that shit up!  I’ll make millions.  Who needs a reality show?   I’ll just sit home and make signs.

No need for the government grant.  Fuck you, government (grant).     *insert smiley face here*

How Many Fingers Am I Holding Up?

Posted in Misguided Musings by

My lack of significant eye sight is becoming a challenge.  For all of us.   For instance, I misinterpret things I’ve read, I can’t quite make out a face in the distance and far too often I’m left squinting like Mr. Magoo.  I guess Father Time has decided to make me blind as a bat as well as physically uncoordinated and awkward in social situations.  Thanks for that.  That’s almost as awesome as having an allergic reaction to your allergy medication.   I’m thinking pretty soon I’m going to need a cane.  And a seeing eye-dog.   I walked out of Tim Hortons’ one day and I thought a sign on the door read Free WTF!  I LOVED THAT SIGN!!  I remember asking my husband if the Tim Horton’s company can legally put WTF!  on their doors without anybody complaining.  He looked at me a little weird until son spoke up and said, “No, mom.  IT SAYS FREE WiFi!!”  Ohhhhh….But I still wanted to try out the WTF sign on our front door, but Hubby wouldn’t go for it. I know, right?  Genius.  It would have been like, “WTF_________” fill in the blank, like “WTF are you here for?”; or “WTF is that shit on your head?”; or “WTF were you thinking knocking on my door without any bottles of wine in your hand?”  Yeah, all the missed opportunities are keeping me awake at night.  Or, when I thought D’s email wished Nurse Betty would ‘get some soon’ really she wished she would ‘be home soon’, or the time I thought my daughter’s text read ‘my ass is too boring’ when really it said ‘my dress is too long’ …I know.  Why would you think you have a boring ass?  Who told you that?  What are the qualifications of an exciting ass?  Is there a pass/fail grade curve the highschool put out on asses that I somehow missed?  I NEED THE WTF SIGN!!!

I just wrote the most awesome email to my friends detailing my week of trials and tribulations at work that at best can be described as The Eternal Fuck-Up.  Work, not the email.   It was an epic tale of good vs evil; right vs wrong; burger vs sandwich.  I wish you all could read it.  Jesus was even in there for a cameo.  Really, it was pretty damned good.  It’s a good thing they blithely look away after reading the shit with which I inundate their inboxes.  If no replies come rolling my way soon, I’ll have to send out warnings/threats of more emails to come that look more like spam and junk mail.  I’m shocked they haven’t blocked me or junked my stuff already.  Wait, maybe they have and I don’t know it yet.  Maybe they’ve all banned together like some little gangsta posse and decided to spam my ass behind my back, sorta like stabbing me in the face while I was sleeping.  Pfft….nah, they’re just waiting for a follow-up…I just know it….

Since this writing, most of my DH ladies have subsequently replied…they still love me…excuse me while I have a Sally Field moment….

My sign...notice the decorative heart and flowers...I think Hubby should rethink his position on this. It's awesome

My sign…notice the decorative heart and flowers…I think Hubby should rethink his position on this. It’s awesome