Pee! The world’s on fire.

My only brother, 11 years older than me, used to sleep in late. As teens do. After being out late with his friends, he would sleep late. Also, at one point, I think he worked evenings or nights at a local gas station, so he might have been sleeping during the day for that reason.

Well, my father creeps into the hallway with an impish grin. He was in a goofy, manic phase and holds down the smoke detector test button.

BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!

Except, our alarm was louder and more terrifying. Enough to make you piss your pants.

At the same time, my dad hollers down the hallway, “Pee! The world’s on fire!” Laughing his country-ass off. (One of his favorite sayings was, “I work my country ass off!” I still say that. So does my husband. LOL My husband does a perfect impersonation of my father, even though they never met, mainly because I say it exactly the way my dad used to. Love it.)

My brother comes running out of his bedroom, his long, usually-perfect, feathered hair tousled from sleep and his eyes barely open. His eyes quickly narrow even further at the sight of my dad and the rest of the family giggling maniacally.

He did not pee. He was pissed though! I think my dad just wanted him up and out!

Good times.

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Dogs in Strollers Signal the End of Times

A repost. Because I just watched John Mulaney’s new Netflix special Kid Gorgeous and he talks about his dog stroller. I’ve lost all respect for you, John. Sigh. But you still make my whole family laugh. So. You got that goin’ for ya.


Do you suppose that at the height of any advanced civilization, pets were carted around in small chariots and worshipped? And then the civilization collapsed due to economic and political disaster? Egyptians, Romans, Mayans. America?? The sign of the end is animal worship IMO. LOL

I don’t know if it’s Florida, old people or Wal-mart, but the amount of small dogs in strollers is increasing. I just saw two Shih Tzus being walked in a stroller on our street on the way home this morning. I saw a Yorkie in a stroller at Wal-mart last week. North Korea has missile capability. The end is nigh. (Please remind me to never go to Wal-mart ever again. Even if they have the cheapest aprons for high school ceramic students in town.)

Seriously though, why stroll a dog? Isn’t the purpose of walking a dog that the dog actually gets exercise? God have mercy on our confused nation. I mean, I love dogs, but a baby stroller?? Please euthanize your dog if they are unable to walk any more. For God’s sake. If you are offended by this advice, you might be a dog-strolling Wal-mart shopper. Or from Florida.

For years I have openly laughed at neighbors standing in small, sad patches of grass behind their dog, watching said dog poop, relaxed with total apathy except for their anxious blue-gloved hand in permanent claw pose, waiting to scoop said poop. The dog always has a smirk or a smile, “I got this human to pick up my shit for free just because I lick his face when he walks in the door.” Or the dog looks totally strained or confused. “Why do I have to poop in front of everyone??”

Who’s in charge? Someone once famously said, “If aliens came to our planet, they would think dogs were in charge because we are picking up their poop!” Aliens would definitely think dogs are in charge if they saw us carting them around in a baby buggy. Gah!

Flooding in Texas. Increased earthquakes. Global climate change. Start prepping now. Actually it’s probably too late. Watch Red Dawn and buy a bottle of Tequila.

Smoke a Turd in Purgatory

My friend always says, as a punishment for d-bag behavior, “That guy will have to smoke a turd in purgatory.” LOL

I just love those words together. It’s poetic in sound and justice.


a great reminder for me to be patient, from 2016:

i DMV’d it.

there was a guy who i should have tackled and hog-tied for cutting in line, but i restrained myself and prayed to the baby Jesus. he was the d-baggiest. but i believe in Karma. he’s going to the front of the line…in hell. mwahaha! JK

actually, if he’s in that big of a hurry, he can have it. i’m supposed to be where i’m supposed to be whenever i’m supposed to be there for whomever i’m supposed to be there for. i have purpose and i’m in no hurry.

i accept waiting. i embrace opportunities to be patient. and i just try to quiet my mind when i feel overwhelmed. (i did this yesterday and it helped!)

ur welcome, DMV-er. i didn’t call you out when i had every right to. u shall spend purgatory waiting in line behind an old lady with a change purse the size of ur ego. may God have mercy on ur soul. and may the turd you smoke while waiting in Satan’s nether regions be full-flavored.


Happy Easter! LOL

Alt Grapes of Wrath

I’m playing Ma Joad in our local community theatre right now. Loving it.


My husband gave me an idea. I was telling him how Ma Joad kills everyone and he said, “What if you’re a serial killer?” LOL

She left the gate open, let the pig get out and it ate the “baby”. The baby human? Our pig ate the neighbor’s baby?? Or the pig ate an animal baby? Either way. Yikes.

Then, she gives Granpa soothin’ sirrup. He promptly dies.

Noah says he’s leaving the family and is never seen again.

Granma has a fever and I won’t let the family stop. Granma dies.

Connie, that good-for-nothing son-in-law of mine, disappears suddenly.

The preacher dies in the dark and then Ma is found on the bench, in the dark, immediately after. Hm.

I tell Tom to go away and I’m the last person who sees him.

I’m with Rosasharon when her baby dies.

OH. MY. GOD! I’m a serial killer.

What if I poisoned Uncle John’s wife?? I’m the cook. Gah!

This would make a good story, no? LOL

Rabbit Habit

The street we live on, Flamingo Drive, should be renamed Rabbit Run. There are a gajillon bunnies on our short little avenue. Every morning when we ride to school, little bunnies pop out of every bush and hole. Adorable. Just like this fella. SQUEE!

bunny under the stairs
If we see two bunnies, we call that a Double Bun. Three? Triple Bun Fun. Four? Quad goals.

Except. These rabbits have a habit. Of almost dying! They are a touch suicidal. They run in front of my car. They hear the car and run towards it. Confused.

I, of course, brake when I see any movement. I only go around 15-20 miles an hour because there are some dumb bunnies. I grew up in the country, so I know what it’s like driving around squirrels, rabbits and deer. Once I brake, their spell is broken and they run in the other direction.

Run, bunny! Run!

I watch for bunnies and the Ghosts of Venice (I call them). Old people who drift in and out of the fog. I don’t want any innocent, yet careless, creature’s life in my hands. With the bunnies, I would fear retribution from the multitudes.

Thankfully, I am a cautious driver, always on the alert. 10 and 2, always focused, and keeping an eye on those bunny bushes.

NOT ON MY WATCH, Bun!

F*ing Emo

I scream to you “I’m different!”
But how can you really tell?
Because this heart is deeper?
Beeline to the bottom of this well.

Is it that I feel so strong
Everything that I feel?
Does that make all my emotions
Any truer or much more real?

I flail around and make a mess
Invite you to the show
That’s what makes me different
And totally f*ing emo.


No, not Elmo. lol

Poets

Poets are a greedy breed
Wanting payment for the words we bleed

Doesn’t have to be money though
Could be any form of honey slow

I am a cheap literary device
Lost in a fool’s paradise

It doesn’t take much to suffice
A few choice words would certainly be nice

Like and share and clap and tweet
Whistle and smile and snaps are sweet

I could live high on likes alone
Chew forever on those juicy bones

Slake my fervent fever thirst
Say my poem left you submersed

Just sitting there with your eyes glistening
With open heart, still and listening

Payment enough for this amateur litterateur
Litter my Press with delusions of grandeur

This is my happy face (Bitch)!

If this were a shirt for me, I would add “Bitch” to the end! lol

I was walking introspectively the other day, into the hospital where I deliver labs, and one of the doctors (lady in a lab coat) told me, “That’s not your happy face, is it?”

Look, I have piercing gray eyes and am often lost in thought about the universe and God. Leave me alone! lol I’m a writer.

I wanted to punch her.

I’m happy. I’m downright Zen, Bitch! But then that’s not a very Zen-like response, is it?

So, I instantly forgave her stupidity and assumed she was completely insane or insecure. Doctor or no. Then I pitied her. Had empathy and compassion for the idle-chat crazy. And then, I smiled.

See? Total Zen! LOL

Even if she wanted to cheer me unnecessarily, that was a rude thing to say. What if I am happy and you’re saying I look ugly? Sour?

You’ve just hurt me, Stupid. The opposite of your goal. I’m so sorry you have a degree to wear a lab coat and still can’t function in polite society. Get a grip, Doc.

I can write funny, but often have BRF. It’s in my genes. (My mom has to deal with crazies, too.) Deal with it! 😀

I don’t think people have to go around with a Buddha-like smile all the time to reassure those who are insecure or nervous. But I often smile at strangers. It’s just not my priority to make you feel secure. Sorry. I am very friendly to my co-workers and route clients. I don’t make mean faces at people. I don’t go out of my way to scowl. I just have an internal dialogue that often involves God. Isn’t that better than waving around my negativity??

Thanks for understanding.

12 Days of Driving

I drive for a living. I love my job. It’s so easy and the pay is great. The hours are amazing. Plus, I have the best boss. THE best boss I’ve ever had. Such a nice guy. So easy-going.

I pick up labs (body fluids, of course contained) and take them to the main downtown hospital super lab. Easy-peasy, liquid squeezy.

The other day, I arrived at one of the clinics. The staff have a strange penchant for feeding stray cats (and by accident, raccoons and vultures) in the back-of-the-strip-mall parking lot just behind their clinic. It’s sort of like Grey Gardens without the elaborate outfits and dilapidated old house. This is where I park before I enter their facility.

There’s usually at least one cat in the lot. Waiting around for scraps. But the other day it was like Black Friday at Wal-mart or a new version of The Twelve Days of Christmas:
3 trash pandas
2 mangy vultures
AAAAAND 1 gray and white alley caaaaaat!

I’d never seen so many scavengers in one place, even at Dr. Doolittle’s. They all sat waiting just outside a vast clump of bushes. Wonder what was in those bushes? I really don’t wanna find out.

Food? Dead animal? Dead body?? EEEK! I just grabbed my labs and split!

Happy Holidays! Try singing The Twelve Days of Trash Panda. 🙂 LOL