Ten Things

It's the weekend, and I am going to take the easy way out today because I didn't sleep well last night.  I said a prayer as I went to bed, offering to bear someone else's pain if it would give that person a sweet night of peace, and I'm hoping that that was the case.  With no further ado, I give you ten things you may or may not know about me.

1.  I am a positive person.  I was not always like that, but one day a light bulb went off and I realized life would be much easier if I focused on what I CAN do rather than what I CAN'T.  

2.  I do pray a lot.  I am not always sure to whom or what I am praying and no one will ever accuse me of being religious, but I firmly believe in the power of prayer.  I don't know if it is a focusing of positive energy or just how it works, but some things you just have to take on faith.

3.  I blow my nose like someone's old grandpaw blowing hockers in his hanky.  Now, I am not the most feminine of girls by any stretch of the imagination, but I recently realized just how ludicrous this sounded when I saw the look of HORROR on my gurrrlfriend's face as I turned around delicately wiping the edges of my nose. *snort*

4.  I am an extremist.  I like my coffee scalding hot and my beer ice cold, thank you very much.  And I am going to drink them while they are still hot or cold, which means I drink them very quickly.  Keep your "SLUGGO" comments to yourself.

5.  I bit my nails until I was thirty three years old.  I quit by wearing a rubber band on my wrist and snapping it hard every time my hands got close to my face.  I didn't think it would work since I was aware of what I was doing, but it did.  Now I pick my cuticles and scabs instead, so my hands are still a disaster.

6.  I am very picky.  If the coffee isn't Starbucks French Roast Extra Bold or the beer isn't Busch Light in a bottle, I don't want it.  Don't give me your brand of something and tell me to just try it because I don't farking want it!  If that hurts your feelers, I'm sorry.  It's just how I am.  It is not a comment on you or your peculiar taste, I just like the things I am comfortable with.  Get over it.

7.  I am a cheap date.  One of my favorite things to do is to ride up the river and sit under the interstate and see how many truckers I can get to "honk me".  No lie.  I could sit there all day and every honk would still be just as exhilarating as the last.

8.  I have a bird I have to spell in front of.  I chit you not.

9.  I have a chandelier in my kitchen (HA-in a houseboat the size of a large shoe, no less) that I have been actively hating for three years.  If you are willing to come take it out, you can have it. I really can't finger out why it is still there, since the Innocent Bystander is so tall that he whacks his head on it at least once a day.  I'd love to meet the fooktard who decided to put it there so I could kick him in the gonadial region.

10.  I hoard certain things.  You would think I grew up in the depression or something, the way I stockpile toilet paper and coffee and books-I have probably THIRTY books on my Kindle that I haven't even started-I can't take a chance of running out, don'tcha know?

Well, that is it for today.  No vaginas, penises, or boobies to be found. I am off for a boat ride with the Innocent Bystander, then we are going our separate ways.  He is going to spend the night (we are such responsible drinkers-heh) with an old friend and they are going to watch sports and eat beans and light each other's farts and drink until they puke.  I am spending the night with my favorite Purv and we are going to eat steaks and play Wii games and prolly do something illegal.  Use your imagination.  Have a safe and happy Saturday.

Sunday Scribblings: The era of BB

I'd like to paint a picture for you today. It won't be pretty so the faint of heart amongst you must take this opportunity to excuse yourselves. We won't talk about you while you are gone. Really. And we will be right back here next time you drop by, with fresh tales of flying hoohoos, reminders to feel up your boobies, giant weiners doing tricks and all kinds of fun stuff.

Now. Everybody comfortable? I think those candy asses are all gone now.

Oh mah gawd. Did you SEE that girl's hair?

No, really. Today's post is going to be an exercise suggested by Sunday Scribblings (sorry guys, I'm still link deficient, and no one seems to be TAKING THE HINT and sending me the instructions in little bitty words so that I can link to your posts when I reference you). I am posting it a little early so I can take tomorrow off. This week, we are supposed to think about which era in history we would choose to live in if we had to choose another. The Innocent Bystander and I talked it over, and we decided jointly that we would choose to live in Renaissance Italy when the great masters were creating the beautiful art that we love so much. And then I got to thinking that, no-part of the reason I love those paintings and frescos and such so much is because of how old they are and I like to think of how many eyes have seen them and imagine who those people were and things like that. No. I'd REALLY like to live in the era just slightly before this happened...

It was a day like any other. I was out with the Juevo at the mall trying to figure out new and creative ways to waste the Innocent Bystander's money. We had been shopping hard. HARD, I tell you. I visited every shoe in the mall, and the old plastic was practically melting I'd swiped it so many times. Which makes a girl very hungry.

I may have mentioned before my obsession with all foods chinese. I love it all, and I am willing to give any chinese restaurant at least one chance. But this was not a day I had to experiment with an unknown. This day we were eating at one of my favorites. They had been in this mall since it opened over twenty years earlier, and had evolved from a take out rice or noodles and two other choices kinda place to a huge buffet in a sit down restaurant. And they made what I considered to be the best crabmeat wontons on the coast. You could watch the waitresses make them individually by hand when they were not waiting tables. Cream cheese, crabmeat, and just the right amount of green onion, fried crispy and glistening. Mmmm.

Juevo and I ate in worshipful silence for awhile. And then I had to pee.

Now, I am one of those people who have trouble holding my pee in when I get within ten feet of a toilet when I don't have to go. (And yes. I Kegel.) So I was really struggling to get my pants down as I entered the stall. I got them down to about midthigh and relaxed a little and let go. As my eyes surveyed my surroundings, I thought "Oh, how interesting. Textured wallpaper." My hand started reaching to touch it and then something told me to stop and look closer. Just a little. I recoiled in horror as I realized what I was looking at. This was no textured wallpaper. It was a veritable WALL O' BOOGERS.

Now this was no ordinary wall o' boogers, my friends. This was a fucking work of art. A virtual Taj Mahal of boogers, if you will. This thing had to have taken years-nay DECADES-to craft, each booger placed lovingly and strategically like some Van Gogh's Starry Night from Hell. Layers and layers, I tell you. Boogers as far as they eye can see. Much attention to detail. Mostly greens and yellows, but some with that brownish look that tells you they bled-you knew they had to dig really deep for those.

There. Have I squicked you out enough yet? Ok. Now your mind wander back to those crabmeat wontons that I loved so much. And now that I think about it, which one of them was the freaking Picaso among the bunch? Or was this a family project? Were they ALL in on it?

Yes, I think I would choose the Before Boogers era. I'd sure sleep a lot better.