Translate

Wednesday, July 31, 2013

My Bra Looks Like A Cereal Bowl (Re-post)

Hello, hello - happy Wednesday summer re-post day!! Picked one of my favorites, of course by the numbers - many of you also agree... It's originally from Sept 4, 2012.  Enjoy and I'll see you all on Friday with a brand spanking new post.

This is ridiculous, my bra looks like a cereal bowl.

Ladies you'll know what I'm talking about - I'm getting ready for bed and to give the girls a rest, you pull your bra out from under your clothes.  Unhooking it, pulling one strap out through the arm and the rest out through the other arm.  I take it off fold it up and go about my nightly ritual, brushing my teeth, washing my face, slathering on the night time Oil of Olay in the purple jar....  then I turn around and think - who the hell left a cereal bowl on the bath tub??

Christ - it's my bra!  Really? Yeah, really.

Just when you think you're feeling ok about yourself, you realize your bra is ginormous.  Look, I didn't pay for these, they just grew there of their own free will, but believe me - if I could share the wealth, I would.

If only it was as easy as someone asking for a cup size.  A cup size you say - well yes - I have a couple of those to spare - how many would you like??  And would you like 5 or 10lbs to go along with that?  Great, just give me a minute while I bag that up for you.

And yes, I did go into the cupboard and grab a box of Cheerios to make my point (in case you were slightly terrified of the "bowl" size, it's not s full size box of Cheerios...)

Hey - maybe there is a market for these?  Could be like a bachelor gift, eat your Wheaties, stay a strong man!!

Spoon any one?

Tuesday, July 30, 2013

I'm a Lumberjack and I'm OK



We've had some wicked storms come through here the last couple weeks.  There are branches and tree limbs lined up on boulevards everywhere waiting for someone to cut them up and take them away.

And here we have pictured just the guy for the job – the entrepreneurial man has a tree service.  Hey I’m all for that!  

Driving along Woodward this catches my eye, because something is just not right about it. 
I’m not talking that those are house numbers stuck to the side of his truck, it does the job – you know he has a tree service and the number is listed for your help in calling him (blocked out of course).  But it’s something else.

Is he Stan K Rains? In case I were to have to look him up because I’m driving and can’t write the number down. 

Or is he Stank Rains?  Ok, well that’s a little odd, but maybe he’s making a comment on the storms that take the tree limbs down and he likes to call them Stank Rains – ok, I suppose…

But no, that’s not it. 
Anybody see it?

Look CLOSELY!

Yes, there is a B in between Stank and Rains.
 
See it?  It doesn’t have a white background – it’s just stuck to the green van.

So the businesses name is STANKBRAINS?  STANKBRAINS Tree Service? 

Ummm…..buddy, I don’t know you and I’m sure you’re a very talented tree cutter downer guy – but when you were picking out names for your business – how exactly did you land on STANKBRAINS?  

I’m just curious as to what kind of night you were having?  Did someone help you come up with that?  And then did you then run off to the local 24 hour Meijer’s store before the idea left your “brain” and buy some stickers to plaster on the side of your van?  And just like that – poof, you were in business!?

Because I have to tell you – STANKBRAINS, although catchy, is just not a very good business name – for ANY kind of business…even if you were selling stanky brains, which clearly you are not.  Ohhhhh, you do own a chain saw, hmmm, in that case – the name is lovely – just lovely, Jason.

Friday, July 26, 2013

It's All A Grand Illusion



Welcome to the Grand illusion, Come on in and see what's happening, Pay the price - get your tickets for the show.
The stage is set, the band starts playing, Suddenly your heart is pounding, Wishing secretly you were a star…

Just a little help from Styx, to get this Friday going!

Hey, see the dude on the top of the building.  The one in the hat and what looks to be a tux, with his hands behind his back?  Yeah, I saw him too!  So did my husband – we both saw him, together, at the same time!

We’re down in Detroit, because - well we live here.  Ah, but that’s not the point.

We were down in the area near the Tiger Stadium (ok, Comerica Park if you must get technical) and the Opera House – hanging out – having a few beers and an all around lovely time on a sunny afternoon.  One of us looks up and sees this man on the top of a building – I can’t remember which one spotted him.

So we stare for a while and he doesn’t move.  Then we think, maybe he’s metal art, you know like a sculpture – there’s tons of cool art in the area, it just pops up, I’m sure it’s not sanctioned or approved. 

So, someone could very well have put a metal art rusty sculpture man, in a hat and tuxedo, on top of the Opera House roof – it just fits.    

We snap a picture and continue our socializing and wandering around.  There’s a band playing in the park, we hang out for a few and listen, then we wander off to get lunch. 

As we wander, the view changes. 

Significantly!

By George (oh yeah and welcome to the world Royal baby George) It’s not a man at all!! It’s not even metal art!  The whole coolness of the Opera House having a metal art man in a hat and tux on their building is ruined.  

Ruined I say….  

Look – it’s a stupid satellite dish – how disappointing…..
Take us out Styx... 


So if you think your life is complete confusion, Because your neighbors got it made.
Just remember that - it's a Grand illusion, And deep inside we're all the same.
We're all the same (same, same, same – a little reverb is necessary here… )

Wait - who the hell is Styx you ask?  Sorry, I’m a music girl, I bizarrely know way too much stuff.   You’ll just have to look ‘em up, they were popular in the 70’s, you can find them on vinyl.  It should be required all ages know who they were – they had some crazy catchy music and a lot of feathered hair. Enjoy them when you find them online!

Wednesday, July 24, 2013

Taxi, Oh Taxi! (Re-post)

Happy summer re-post Wednesday everyone!  It's a very pleasant breezy day, the likes of which we have not had in a good four weeks - so we are all out bike riding and visiting with the neighbors - you too? Yeah it's just that kind of day! This was a very popular post from 11/23/12. See you all with a new post on Friday!!


Hmmm, not sure if you can read the above, but it goes something like this:
There was a robbery, the cops showed up, gave chase, the suspects fled, two were caught the other two ESCAPED IN A TAXI……
That’s right girls and boys - a Taxi.
This little snippet is from my town’s monthly paper, these are my crack police officers our hefty property tax dollars are paying for.  Now granted, they have had a lot of cuts to the force in recent years, but how exactly does one escape a robbery – in a taxi???
This is Michigan - we don’t have Taxi’s unless you call one up and order it for a specific time for a specific place.   Even in Detroit city proper, you can’t just randomly catch one there either.  They don’t roam the streets looking for fares like they do in other large cities of the world.  On occasion, if there is a big to-do going on in the D, there could be a line of Taxi’s at the Ren-Cen, but that’s about it.
Plus this is the suburbs, not too many Taxi’s just tooling around the neighborhood streets looking for a fare.  Ok, not ANY.
Can you imagine, your running from the cops, you whip out your cell phone, find the number for a taxi service, anticipate your whereabouts in 20 minutes, show up, flag the taxi and get in?
Or – you’re committing the robbery, you realize that all the loot you just grabbed won’t fit in the car with all four of you, you call a taxi to take some of the guys away after you get your getaway vehicle all loaded up.  The cops show up, you start to run down the street, here comes the taxi – so you act like your late for the airport with your big black trash bag full of loot and say – get us to the airport – pronto!  Taxi guy thinks nothing of it – takes you 35 miles away to the airport, you walk around the terminal for a half hour, walk back outside and take another taxi home – free and clear – with you garbage bag full o’loot!
I’m not exactly sure why they printed this article, wouldn’t it also have been true to just say the other two burglars escaped in a different vehicle?  You really didn’t have to say it was a taxi?  Do the officers even feel foolish?  Or did they get a big pat on the back for catching two? 
Moral of the story, and you don't need Sherlock for this one, if your house ever gets robbed, remember that taxi you just passed heading away from your home– then check at the airport for anyone wandering around with big black trash bags, full of your stuff.
Ah yes, I feel safe – how about you?

Monday, July 22, 2013

Venus Fly Trap

Um, these are flies.

Piles and piles of flies.

On the end of leaves.

On a tree – IN MY BACKYARD!

Have you ever seen anything so gross?

Why are the flies coming to die at our house?  Why are they on our Willow tree?  The tree my husband cut down eight years ago, but it refused to die and grew back, bigger and stronger than ever.  What is this said Willow tree?

Did it know it had a purpose in life eight years ago and this is why it re-incarnated itself?  Was this purpose to collect all the iridescent “house” flies and kill them off?  They are literally dripping off the leaves.  IN PILES.  Guh

It’s like “The Birds” when you walk by the tree.  It buzzes.  Guh

Honestly, I have never seen anything like it – it is truly gross, they are melding together in – well -piles.

I found it odd this year that a day has not gone by since May that we haven’t had a fly in our house,  Hubby dutifully kills one every night and then we open the door to let the dogs out and another flies in.  We’ve commented on it several times.

I don’t want to be the house of the holy for flies – I just don’t.  

And now, now we have this very large buzzing Venus – I mean Willow Fly Trap out in the back yard.  It’s really disgusting.

Anyone know what this is?  Or is it just our special lot in life to be the new eradicators of golden iridescent flies – ‘cause really, we don’t want that job…. Guh

Friday, July 19, 2013

Snake in the Grass

The other day I got bit by something in the yard.

We had a “family Outing” to get everyone (i.e. the dogs) enthusiastically outside to do their business.  Hubby and I teamed up to get both girls outside, orderly without anyone tripping or falling over each other or down stairs – sounds easy, but in this house, it’s not.

I had dog #2, who needs to be on a leash.  We step onto the grass and immediately I feel something bite my ankle.  I look at it, see nothing, but know it was too quick and too sharp to be a mosquito bite.

After doggie doodle success we come in the house.

I go wipe the “bite” with alcohol, since that’s what I would do with a mosquito bite.  It itches something fierce, hurts actually.  Later I shower and scrub the heck out of my ankle with soap.
That is day one.  

Day two:
The darn ankle still hurts, I get a real good look at it and there are TWO marks on my foot and it’s lumpy.

Me to husband – look, I’ve been bit
Husband – uh-huh
Me – no look at it – shove foot in his face
Husband – I’m on the computer. Yeah ok, something bit you
Me – this was yesterday, it still hurts
Husband – uh-huh
Me – maybe it was a spider?
Husband – yeah, whatever, you’re fine

Day three:  
Huh, that’s new it’s weeping – put calamine lotion on it to dry it out.

Me to husband – look, shove foot in his face again, it’s weeping, its day three, isn’t that odd?
Husband – yeah, you’re fine
Me – I’m not fine – maybe it was a Viper
Husband – a what?
Me – a Viper, you know – poisonous snake
Husband - it was definitely NOT a Viper
Me – you don’t know that
Husband – I DO know that, there are NO Vipers in Southeastern Michigan
Me – there could be – maybe someone let a pet out, like the year I saw that large red hairy spider crawling up the garage
Husband – fine, you were bit by a Viper
Me – see I told you, you’re gonna miss me when I’m gone
Husband – where you going?
Me – if I was bit by a Viper, my time must be limited
Husband – just looks at me…

So people, I may or may not have bit by a Viper, it’s day five, it still hurts – but the rest of me feels fine, plus from the picture taken today the lumps have went away.  Guess I would have known by now if I was bit by an escaped pet Viper.  Huh, must have been a spider.  

Boy that spider sure did have a long fang range, the marks are ¾ of an inch apart – I only felt one bite, maybe it was the red hairy one I spotted two years ago – hmmm, think I would rather have a Viper in my yard….. Either way, I now stay on the rock path that goes through the yard – damn sneaky Vipers…

Wednesday, July 17, 2013

Golden Bullet of Fur (Re-post)

Hello my sweltering hot friends - how's the world loving this heatwave?? If only we had a pool.... This Weds Summer Re-post is Flying Golden Bullet of Fur, originally Posted 9/14/12.  It still gets read regularly, so it seemed perfect for a re-post.  This was pre Rosie Dog, Suzie being mixed with Golden Retriever now looks like a big dog compared to a true wiener dog.  But she's not really, she's still just a furry happy little girl.


Remember how I told you we watched the neighbor’s doggie for a couple of weeks this summer, well I didn’t fully mention her energy.  Since she’s a sleek little wiener dog, it would make sense that she had bullet like tendencies, although I had never really met a bullet dog in person before. 
I did know that she could jump vertical while on a leash to a height of two or more feet above what she would stand if she were on her hind legs.  This is something she would do to greet you when you visited her on her zip line runner when she was outside at her house.    
 
This talent would also come into play say for catching moths, flies, hornets, imaginary dots in the air.  I have never seen a dog wiggle airborne, vertically, two feet off the ground, while attached to a leash, in sheer ecstasy at the prospect of catching a little white moth.  Off you would be on a walk and bam, vertical leap, bug gone!  If she weren’t less than a foot tall, she would be a great addition to anyone’s basketball team, as balls are a part of her entertainment area as well.
Now on to the furry golden bullet bit…
Do you know that comic in the Sunday papers about the pirate ship and the Golden retriever named “Louie”? Well, that is not an exaggeration.  I now know that dogs can fly and apparently it has something to do with having Golden Retriever bits mixed in your genetics.  In the comic, every time the pirate brings home the groceries, the dog flies through the air and knocks his favorite owner pirate guy down, and everything he has in his hands goes down too – so presumably the dog can get at the groceries spread out nicely on the floor and have a little snack. 
Every morning around 6:30am, not my best time of day, I would go over to Suzie’s house to let her out and give her breakfast.  I figured in a house that normally has kids zinging through it on a regular basis, Suzie might be used to an early morning routine.  
The first day I came by, Suzie barked (i.e. howled) when I came to the door and put the key in, after the first day, she only cried while waiting for me to turn the locks. Smart dog, learned my key turning noise in a day.  She was always very, very excited and did that vertical thing jump when you came in.  You had to move her outside quick to avoid the “happy to see you piddle” in the house and she cooperated with this thought process for about the first four days. 
Day five, it’s 6:30, I’m basically in a walking stupor that early in the morning, but I’m settling into this routine: Open door, get her outside asap, walk her around the neighborhood, go back to her house, feed her, go back home for three hours, sleep, awake again, go over and walk her again, bring her to our house for the day, kiss my dog on the noggin and tell her it’s temporary, brew a cup of coffee, start my day.  
But no, day five I’m on my ass in the neighbor’s driveway.  Some sort of Neanderthal grunt escapes my groggy system and Suzie’s on my chest.  Wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, big brown eyes greeting mine.    I’m stunned now sitting in the driveway, trying to get her on a leash and I realize I’ve just been hit by a horizontal flying golden bullet of fur, rocket launched off the top step on the landing; she’s Louie in the flesh!  
She is a rescue dog, maybe the comic strip guy lost his puppy and he keeps including her in the strip in case someone recognizes her and sends him an email saying –“Hey, I found your missing pirate dog.  She’s alive and flying high in the metro Detroit area”!  
Our dog doesn’t fly, in fact, none of the dogs we have ever had flew and I bet if Suzie straightened out those floppy ears, she might land a little more gracefully (like Dumbo did).  I think I’ll go over and offer that thought up to my neighbors right now.  Then again, they never warned me about her aerial acrobatics, maybe I’ll just open the window a little wider the next time I see them pull in the driveway and listen for the THUD!
Flying dog indeed.