Friday, March 16, 2007
Tomorrow is St Patrick's day! What a great way to start the break!!! My friend Tiffany is planning on coming to visit us and we're heading out to celebrate St Patty's. I'm not sure on where we're going.... but we're going. Last year Richard had so much green beer, he pee'd green. lol That was fun... we didn't know if it would turn your p green, so we keep coloring his drinks.... and sure enough! You can pee green. :)
Happy St Patty's Day everyone!!!!
Yep, just a few more hours and we’ll all fling off our stuffy office attire (ok, it’s actually been proclaimed a jeans and college shirt day) and joyfully leap into the freedom-filled sunshine. Listen closely this afternoon and you will hear the resounding crack of constraints being gleefully broken as we race each other for the door. Though just 10 am, I vainly listen for the sound of youthful voices filling the hallways but alas, most have either been given early dismissal or have already taken off to get a jump on their vacation activities. Also, these past few weeks have seen intensive office-switching as we clear out the other side of the hallway in preparation for the expected inside renovation. Eventually this department will be relegated to the bowels of the building when cosmetic changes force our evacuation but that won’t be for several months. At any rate, next week I hope to post from my sleek playtoy and keep you abreast of any blog-worthy excitement.
- "Actually, I've been here for over 20 minutes, big guy -- I was just out chillin' in the van waiting for the end of the live version of 'Freebird'."
- "I keep forgetting which side of the International Date Line you're on."
- "We're *open* on Tuesdays?!?"
- "It took this long to get the ol' blood alcohol level down to the legal driving limit."
- "I had to take extra time this morning to wrestle with overwhelming aggressive impulses by reassuring myself that nothing would happen today that would push me over the edge."
- "My proctologist got stuck."
- "It was Senator Kennedy's turn to drive today, so I've spent the last hour swimming."
- "I'm late because I was on the phone trying to get *your* shipping department to send the company's office supplies directly to the winner of my eBay auction."
- "Hey, time becomes meaningless when you're as strung out on crystal meth as I am."
- "Sorry, sir. I overslept and dreamt I had a dead-end job, a windowless office and a humorless baboon for a boss."
- "Heidi Klum refused to untie me."
- "On the second Tuesday of the month, the Campho-Phenique man comes by to fill the drum for my home supply of industrial-strength anti-canker sore gel."
- "I'm sorry, boss, but I had to stop to get you -- uh -- this box of ten donuts."
- "It took me a little longer than normal to hide my disdain this morning... Sir."
- "My dog ate my presentation, sir. And by 'my dog' I mean your wife, and by 'ate my presentation' I mean 'was boinking me'."
- "These are not the 'droids you're looking for."
Oh, and my pier opens tomorrow!
Wednesday, March 14, 2007
The one thing i've always remembered was the poop talk. She told me that people can typically be carrying up to ten pounds of pooh in their bowels and you'd be amazed at how much they see when they are working on bodies.
So that makes me think. Wrestlers, when trying to make weight, take laxatives to clean out their system which helps them shed a few pounds. They pull on sweat suits and run in steamy showers to sweat off a few ounces. What about flatulance? If you can poop and drop a couple of pounds... what about when you rip a big toot? Do you drop weight then? When you're all gassy your stomach swells and then when you pass it (top or bottom) your stomach is relieved and the bubble reduces. So does that mean a few ounces (or pounds depending on how fart-ridden you are!) lost?
These are thoughts I ponder at 6am while standing (still asleep) in the shower...
Tuesday, March 13, 2007
“Lifelong friends and national idols Ricky Bobby (Will Ferrell) and
Monday, March 12, 2007
While yanking K’s brown strands through the frosting cap yesterday, she stunned the bajibbies out of me by letting a long-concealed cat out of the proverbial bag. (So of course I’m sharing it with you.) Now I realize I’m about as vanilla and white bread as they come and most people would shrug this off as not worth a second thought, but this juicy (haha) revelation sent me reeling through space and time and I was barely able to stay upright and continue Tress Duty. It all started with a discussion of Scrubs and how much we are enjoying catching up by sequentially viewing it on disc. K mentioned how hilarious the ass-box episode was and I added that I was sure every hospital could chime in with horror stories of its own. Apparently, Podunkville would be included in this roster thanks to our close, personal friend, M. It seems about five years ago he was experimenting with a sex toy in the wee hours of the night in the privacy of his bedroom and got the petulant device stuck up his rather large, pasty white ass. Still vibrating. An embedded, pulsating, quivering dildo crammed up the ole poopshoot. Oh.My.God. Not wanting to ‘disturb’ his sleeping parental units, he drove himself to the ER to undergo the painful separation procedure, not forgetting to ask for the contraption back. Thanks to sedation, he was forced to call his best friend’s wife to retrieve him from said institution and rather than admit to this embarrassing predicament he fobbed it off as having suddenly experienced a blockage of sorts thus necessitating this hush-hush outing. Now he might have gotten away with it but as the "Irony gods" were gaily watching over this ticklish situation, this was not to be. The reason his best friend’s wife was the designated driver was that her spouse was working the night shift and his coworker just happened to be married to the ER nurse on duty that fateful night. Oh yeah. The characters involved carefully kept the tale under lock and key but now we know the real story....Stylists are privy to the tastiest tidbits, aren't they? ;)
Sunday, March 11, 2007
I am not the Rodeo type, nor are any of my friends or immediate family, but Sheri got these tickets from a friend of hers.... we thought we'd go and have a great time doing something new!
We finally found the place (thank God for Google Maps), got parked and started making the hike thru all the big mondo trucks to the arena. The 'aroma' was not like chocolate chip cookies baking on a warm spring day. No, this was more like pooh... no... it was more like baked pooh.
Our first stop was at the bathroom - where Sheri and I had to do a Glamour Shot to record this moment in history. Our first (and last) stop at the Rodeo bathroom.
Richard and P waited (im)patiently outside for us.
Our seats were on the opposite side of the arena, and it took us three college graduates more time to figure out how to 'get to the other side' than it would take a two year old to master ... well, anything! We finally figured out that we were supposed to walk thru all the animals to get to the other side. Immediately we were not enchanted with the nights activities... so we snapped pics.
We thought we'd get to see bull riding, but the entire time we were there (a whopping 30 minutes) they did calf roping. That is the meanest thing to watch! Sheri and I did more screaming and squeeling than anything. It was obvious we were out of our comfort zone... as we made spectacles of ourselves by cringing and jabbering endlessly about how cruel the poor little calf was being treated!
For those of you that don't know.... the smell of ass coupled with nacho cheese... is NOT appealing.
Just because we were bored.
Sheri suffers from animal allergies so her health was our greatest concern. lol She made us leave (so heart broken) so she could go home, take a shower to get the animal hairs off of her, get some breathing drugs and get fresh air.