"Anger Management"

I quit DVRing "Two and a Half Men" about halfway through the season without Charlie Sheen. On the other hand, I never miss Charlie Sheen's new show. Didn't see that coming.

My Christmas Story Theme

As I sat and watched my son and daughter-in-law play Santa this Christmas Eve with "A Christmas Story" playing in the background,  I remembered that the first time I saw "A Christmas Story," my son Cory was four years old which is the same age that his daughter is now.  That was 27 years ago.  How the hell did that happen?

Bastards!

Yesterday, a very good friend of mine (possibly named later, if it's okay with her) went to the church where she works at 4:00 p.m. in a populated area of Beaumont's west end to pop in and out and get something she needed.before running errands for her job.  

While she was inside, someone broke the back window on her car and stole her purse.  She forgot she had the church credit card and, by the time she canceled it, the bastards had charged things in Winnie, Baytown and Houston.  She saw TWO Suburbans leaving the church parking lot when she came out and they went toward the highway.

I'm thankful that the criminals chose my friend randomly and hadn't been watching her waiting for the perfect opportunity to rob her, but I'm also angry that these Houston SOBs are targeting our Beaumont mothers.  The police told my friend that these guys target mothers at day care centers (there is a school and day care at the church), because they know the moms are busy, frazzled, have their hands full and leave their purses in the car.

Saturday night, I prayed that these particular friends would make it home from the big Halloween celebration downtown unscathed.  In my weird brain, I'm picturing The Universe saying, "Okay, safe they shall be Saturday, but Monday we still need that purse."

Thank you God for keeping them safe.  Everybody else, be careful out there and lock your purse in the trunk before you leave work to pick up your kids.

Bastards, who stole the purse...

Karma.

That's all.

Just...karma.

PS: People send out goofy ass e-mails about needles in gas pump hoses and poison on the back of business cards, but nobody forwards e-mails about the real stuff.   Please tell your friends about this.  
 
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Is that normal?

Yesterday when I was walking the neighborhood, I saw a white cat sitting in a yard being dive-bombed by dragonflies.  It was strange, because there were no dragonflies anywhere else.  Yet, there were about fifty of them torturing that poor cat.

Today, I saw possibly the same white cat leaning into a storm drain across the street from the dragonfly yard.  As I got closer, the cat leaned further and further into the drain and then jumped down into god knows where.  I went to the house of the dragonfly yard and rang the bell to see if the cat belonged to them, but nobody answered.

Do cats do this?  Will it be able to get out?  If it jumps up to get out, I don't see how it would be able to get out without hitting its head and falling back into the storm drain.

WTF?


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Cicada shedding it's shell

My daughter-in-law took this picture this morning of a cicada shedding it's shell. Look at the part that was covering its eyes.  Freaky!  Now, I can't get "Invasion of the Body Snatchers" out of my head.

When It Rains...yada, yada, yada

My life has a rhythm.  Things be-bop along fine for months and months, then crap happens.  My current series of crap started with mouse droppings.

I woke up yesterday morning and there was what looked like mouse turds in front of my hall closet.  The exterminator came out and said, basically, "Lady, if you had that many mice, you'd be overrun with 'em." 

He picked up my couch, he looked under cushions, he walked all over my house and searched with his little flashlight, didn't find anything and didn't charge me a penny.  It appears I brought the mouse poop into my house in a box of things I got out of my mom's garage when we were cleaning it out Sunday.  I want to marry the mouse-man, but I don't suppose his wife and three kids would approve.  (Note:  If you have insect/vermin/pest problems call Guardtech 409-813-2297.)

While doing my own mouse hunt this afternoon, I noticed my dryer vent "hose thingy" was torn and the subsequent hot air blowing under the wallpaper in my laundry room was causing the wallpaper to peel off the wall.  So, I got on the floor, patched the "hose thingy" with duct tape and ripped the wallpaper off the wall.

That was after getting home from work and finding my freezer door open.  Everything was thawed out.  Everything.  Every Lean Cuisine, every P. F. Chang meal, every damn thing.  Nice.

While I was bringing out the trash full of everything in my freezer and the old wallpaper, I noticed the sheetrock about to come down in my garage ceiling.  Seriously?  Yes, seriously. 

So, I put the garbage out, moved my car to the other side of the garage away from the threatening sheetrock, came back in the house, locked the door and sat on the couch.  That's it.  I'm done.  American Idol, it's you and me kid.  Make my day.

Why?

Dear Universe:  Why can't I get a red light when I need to open the sauce for my Chicken McNuggets, but if I'm in a hurry I get every red light between me and where I'm going...especially if I'm in a hurry?  Why?!  I need my sauce!  Sincerely, Laurie's Brain

Stairway to Heaven...or is it?

At this time last year, I was taking safety courses in anticipation of my misguided attempt to work for a contractor inside a refinery.  Even though I was only going to be working inside a condemned trailer doing data entry, I still had to be safety certified.  The classes and testing lasted longer than my entire refinery working experience. 

Part of the safety orientation involved heights.  It didn't matter that I was never going to be higher than my 5 foot 4 inch height.  I still had to take the class and the test if I was going to be working inside the plant. 

I do not like heights.  That's putting it mildly.  I hate heights.  Worse than my fear of heights is my fear of falling off of heights.

I can promise you with every fiber of my being that I will never, never, never do this...

Now We Have Dead Cows, Too

Let's add dead cows to the list of weird dead things.  First birds, then fish, then crustaceans and now mammals.  Still think it's not aliens performing weird lab experiments on earthling type species?  Pneumonia my ass.

Ninja Toes

Not my big toe.

I just had to throw away my fourth pair of warm fuzzy winter slipper socks, because my big toes are poking through.  What the hell?  When did I acquire ninja big toes that are so strong and stealth that they feel they must ruin all of my fuzzy socks?

Why?

I have a sudden uncontrollable urge to possess a sundial.  I wonder what that's all about.

According to Delta Downs, I am a senior citizen...

Exactly one month from today, I will qualify

for the "Senior Buffet" at Delta Downs

racetrack and casino.

W...T...F?

How to Talk to the Ladies

Saturday night I worked the registration table at my baby sister's 30-year class reunion.  From where I was sitting, I could see the smokers outside the front glass sliding doors.  At one point, I thought I noticed a few of the guys looking in at our registration table and they seemed to be talking about us, but I told myself, "Seriously, Laurie, not everything is about you."

Right about the time I had that thought, one of the guys broke off from the pack, came through the automatic glass doors, walked right up to me, looked at my nametag and said, "Class of '74?"

I said, "Yep.  Class of '74."

I thought he was going to ask if I knew a brother or sister that might have also graduated in 1974.

Instead, in typical southeast Texas fashion, he said, "That's some old shit right there."

Keep in mind that he was there attending the reunion for the Class of 1980.  His shit is not that much younger than my shit. 

When he saw the surprised look on my face, he said, "No....I mean... I meant...you look good.  1974.  That's old.  I mean...."

I said, "You sure do know how to talk to the ladies."

Poor fella, mumbled a little more then went back outside probably to pay up on the bet he just lost. 

Moral of the story:  If you're trying to tell a woman she looks good for her age, stay away from the words "shit" and "old", not necessarily in that order.

Dumbest thing I've done today... so far...

...dropped the curling iron on my neck/shoulder/self.

R.I.P. Bug

I just saw a dead bug floating legs up in my toilet.

Rest in please, you poor stupid dead bug.