I don't care how old you are, there is no way you haven't heard I'm Sexy and I Know It by LMFAO. Yes, LMFAO is an acronym. Yes, it has that awful F word in it.
Yes, you know you've heard it. This is a terrible version, but it will help you remember.
Even friggin' Elmo has a version of it. This one is tamer, you can watch this in public:
Ok, maybe that's just as embarrassing.
But this one is DEFINITELY worth watching and no one takes off their clothes or wiggles anything!
Hysterical, right??????
Linking here.
Monday, July 9, 2012
Sunday, July 8, 2012
Sir Laurence Olivier Does Jury Duty
My life has been so exciting this week. I mowed and mowed and mowed.
And then I made a few trips to the dump.
I might have broken Jake because he was "off" yesterday about 30 minutes into the lesson, so we had to stop. I really like riding him, so I hope he was just faking because it was so hot and humid.
And I haven't spoken since the 4th, so I'm surprised I have any readers left at all.
It's really not fun to be without my laptop and though I am fortunate enough to be able to use k-ster's computer, it's not the same and it's not convenient and it's making me whine.
I've been taking pictures with the intention of using them for posts, but it's a pain to upload them to this computer, so I've been waiting.
And whining.
But, last night, I dreamed that I got a piece of mail for Laurence Olivier, for JURY DUTY!
I don't even know who he is/was! An actor? Dancer? British? Sir? Does that mean he is/was a knight? I'm sure I could google him, but it's hot and I'm whining, so I won't.
We do get lots of crazy mail around here. I just know it would be absurd for me to accept mail for him and for him to have jury duty!
And then I made a few trips to the dump.
I might have broken Jake because he was "off" yesterday about 30 minutes into the lesson, so we had to stop. I really like riding him, so I hope he was just faking because it was so hot and humid.
And I haven't spoken since the 4th, so I'm surprised I have any readers left at all.
It's really not fun to be without my laptop and though I am fortunate enough to be able to use k-ster's computer, it's not the same and it's not convenient and it's making me whine.
I've been taking pictures with the intention of using them for posts, but it's a pain to upload them to this computer, so I've been waiting.
And whining.
But, last night, I dreamed that I got a piece of mail for Laurence Olivier, for JURY DUTY!
I don't even know who he is/was! An actor? Dancer? British? Sir? Does that mean he is/was a knight? I'm sure I could google him, but it's hot and I'm whining, so I won't.
We do get lots of crazy mail around here. I just know it would be absurd for me to accept mail for him and for him to have jury duty!
Wednesday, July 4, 2012
Speechless Twice In One Day
I teach middle school, therefore NOTHING surprises me. I rarely show displays of utter shock because NOTHING surprises me.
I'm also rarely rendered actually speechless. And I was more stammering and stuttering than speechless in these 2 situations. But I thought they were worthy of note.
The first was at the dump. We don't have city wide trash collection because, well, we aren't in a city. And since most of the people that stay in the campground are from cities, they think if they just cast their unwanted items willy nilly near the dumpster, some great god of trash will make them disappear.
And unfortunately, I am that god of trash in the summer.
We have a dumpster for HOUSEHOLD trash. This means your kitchen and bathroom trash can trash. Not your picnic tables. Not your entire deck that you are replacing. Not your tv, refrigerator, propane tanks or anything else that you don't want. We have a sign specifically saying that none of that stuff can be left at the dumpster, and yet, it gets left there all the time.
So, I run over right away to get rid of it because, like magnets, cast off items attract other cast off items and before we know it, it's a flea market of pure crap in which you find nothing but broken items, outdated electronics and possibly, grandchildren.
This means a hair-raising trip to the dump. Hair-raising because my father doesn't have a lot of use for brakes that work well. The 1.5 mile trip to the dump has taken years off my life many times.
So, I had some rotten wooden crap to take to the dump. The process is simple: drive onto the scale, tell them who you are, dump your stuff and then come back on the scale to get reweighed and pay. We are such frequent fliers, we have a charge account there, but this particular trip was for one particular woman's stuff and she had given me cash. If the amount was equal to the cash she gave me, I was going to pay in cash and if not, I was going to charge.
Can you see how this simple word problem could stump the dump attendant?
This was a man I hadn't seen before and he seemed awfully entertained that I was dumping this stuff. People are always amused when I drive the dumptruck but they don't usually snicker and chortle as they are weighing.
So, I weighed, I told who I was, I dumped and I came back.
And he said "that's $19.80".
"Actually," I said, "I will charge it then, sorry."
They just built a new gate house where the scale is, but it's still lacking in that they have to just about climb out the window to give you your bill or you just about have to climb out of the truck to get it. So I got out.
And the man handed me the bill and it was $25.
"Oh, is it more because I charged?"
"No. Hmmm. Oh, it's because you got off the scale. Go stand at the truck. ON the scale."
"REALLY? My weight is enough to change the entire price???? ARE YOU KIDDING ME? I have to go STAND ON THE SCALE because my weight makes that much difference?"
So, I stoood there, leaning against the truck, like a complete imbecile, incredulous. It kinded of reminded me of this idiot.
It wasn't until I told the story 3 times that I realized the whole thing is backwards. If I got OFF the scale, then the amount would have been LESS, not MORE, so he just totally screwed it up.
The second time that same day that I was left sputtering and stammering was on my parents' deck with my aunt, uncle, my parents and k-ster. K-ster claims that I read 50 Shades of Gray and said, "Oh yeah, isn't that what you just read?"
My jaw actually fell down.
"WHAT????????? The most recent book I read was called The Notorius Benedict Arnold, a 5th grade reading book that I was reading for a committee I'm on. I AM NOT reading 50 Shades of Gray!"
But I did turn 50 shades of red as my family rolled all over the deck laughing themselves silly.
And k-ster is 50 shades of black and blue from the piece of my mind I beat him with.
Linking up here and here. and NOT reading 50 shades of anything!
I'm also rarely rendered actually speechless. And I was more stammering and stuttering than speechless in these 2 situations. But I thought they were worthy of note.
The first was at the dump. We don't have city wide trash collection because, well, we aren't in a city. And since most of the people that stay in the campground are from cities, they think if they just cast their unwanted items willy nilly near the dumpster, some great god of trash will make them disappear.
And unfortunately, I am that god of trash in the summer.
We have a dumpster for HOUSEHOLD trash. This means your kitchen and bathroom trash can trash. Not your picnic tables. Not your entire deck that you are replacing. Not your tv, refrigerator, propane tanks or anything else that you don't want. We have a sign specifically saying that none of that stuff can be left at the dumpster, and yet, it gets left there all the time.
So, I run over right away to get rid of it because, like magnets, cast off items attract other cast off items and before we know it, it's a flea market of pure crap in which you find nothing but broken items, outdated electronics and possibly, grandchildren.
This means a hair-raising trip to the dump. Hair-raising because my father doesn't have a lot of use for brakes that work well. The 1.5 mile trip to the dump has taken years off my life many times.
So, I had some rotten wooden crap to take to the dump. The process is simple: drive onto the scale, tell them who you are, dump your stuff and then come back on the scale to get reweighed and pay. We are such frequent fliers, we have a charge account there, but this particular trip was for one particular woman's stuff and she had given me cash. If the amount was equal to the cash she gave me, I was going to pay in cash and if not, I was going to charge.
Can you see how this simple word problem could stump the dump attendant?
This was a man I hadn't seen before and he seemed awfully entertained that I was dumping this stuff. People are always amused when I drive the dumptruck but they don't usually snicker and chortle as they are weighing.
So, I weighed, I told who I was, I dumped and I came back.
And he said "that's $19.80".
"Actually," I said, "I will charge it then, sorry."
They just built a new gate house where the scale is, but it's still lacking in that they have to just about climb out the window to give you your bill or you just about have to climb out of the truck to get it. So I got out.
And the man handed me the bill and it was $25.
"Oh, is it more because I charged?"
"No. Hmmm. Oh, it's because you got off the scale. Go stand at the truck. ON the scale."
"REALLY? My weight is enough to change the entire price???? ARE YOU KIDDING ME? I have to go STAND ON THE SCALE because my weight makes that much difference?"
So, I stoood there, leaning against the truck, like a complete imbecile, incredulous. It kinded of reminded me of this idiot.
It wasn't until I told the story 3 times that I realized the whole thing is backwards. If I got OFF the scale, then the amount would have been LESS, not MORE, so he just totally screwed it up.
The second time that same day that I was left sputtering and stammering was on my parents' deck with my aunt, uncle, my parents and k-ster. K-ster claims that I read 50 Shades of Gray and said, "Oh yeah, isn't that what you just read?"
My jaw actually fell down.
"WHAT????????? The most recent book I read was called The Notorius Benedict Arnold, a 5th grade reading book that I was reading for a committee I'm on. I AM NOT reading 50 Shades of Gray!"
But I did turn 50 shades of red as my family rolled all over the deck laughing themselves silly.
And k-ster is 50 shades of black and blue from the piece of my mind I beat him with.
Linking up here and here. and NOT reading 50 shades of anything!
Monday, July 2, 2012
Auntie Teaches Naughty Tricks
When school gets out, I go visit my sister a-ster. This was a great idea last year, when school got out on like a Wednesday and I went on Saturday.
It was a little bit of an absurd idea this year when school got out on Friday and I left on Saturday. And the race had happened the weekend before and I had done nothing to clean that up.
I ended up leaving the house like someone had come in and yelled AIR RAID. It was a pigsty.
Luckily, k-ster didn't feel the need to lift his finger while I was gone, so when I got home, everything was as I had left it and possible worse. He's so thoughtful that way.
Anymess, it was fun visiting for a few days and I made sure to teach l-ster all sorts of new things so that her mother will have to be even more on top of what she is doing. This is definitely my job as Auntisparkling, right????
First, we worked on perfecting fishlips. She's got one side but she has trouble getting them both to suck in. This is very serious business.
Then, I showed her how to eat the box when you're done with the raisins. If the raisins are organic, the box must be too, right?
Then, I made sure that she learned the right face to make when someone tells her she did something she wasn't supposed to.
But, most of all, I showed her that if she's going to be a true southern gal, she better get walking outside with no shoes on hot pavement and toughen those feet up!
It was a little bit of an absurd idea this year when school got out on Friday and I left on Saturday. And the race had happened the weekend before and I had done nothing to clean that up.
I ended up leaving the house like someone had come in and yelled AIR RAID. It was a pigsty.
Luckily, k-ster didn't feel the need to lift his finger while I was gone, so when I got home, everything was as I had left it and possible worse. He's so thoughtful that way.
Anymess, it was fun visiting for a few days and I made sure to teach l-ster all sorts of new things so that her mother will have to be even more on top of what she is doing. This is definitely my job as Auntisparkling, right????
First, we worked on perfecting fishlips. She's got one side but she has trouble getting them both to suck in. This is very serious business.
Then, I showed her how to eat the box when you're done with the raisins. If the raisins are organic, the box must be too, right?
Then, I made sure that she learned the right face to make when someone tells her she did something she wasn't supposed to.
But, most of all, I showed her that if she's going to be a true southern gal, she better get walking outside with no shoes on hot pavement and toughen those feet up!
Next trip, I'll teach her how to wipe firefly butts on her cheeks so she glows in the dark.
Sunday, July 1, 2012
Sunshine and Rainbows
Summer is here and along with days of sun and fun comes an assortment of fruits and vegetables that make me really happy. I don't like to eat things that are not grown in the US and in the summer, much more is grown in the US. In my garden, in particular.
And, with the many varieties of fruits and vegetables came this conclusion.
You actually can poop a rainbow.
Here's the recipe:
1. Consume seemingly innocent quantities of beets, blueberries and carrots.
2. Throw in some spinach for good measure (though this one doesn't work for me).
3. Wait until the next morning.
4. Behold the color palette you see before you.
I have to say that beets are the scariest thing of all. Try it. You'll see what I mean.
Linking up with Saturday Laughs.
And, with the many varieties of fruits and vegetables came this conclusion.
You actually can poop a rainbow.
Here's the recipe:
1. Consume seemingly innocent quantities of beets, blueberries and carrots.
2. Throw in some spinach for good measure (though this one doesn't work for me).
3. Wait until the next morning.
4. Behold the color palette you see before you.
I have to say that beets are the scariest thing of all. Try it. You'll see what I mean.
Linking up with Saturday Laughs.
Wednesday, June 27, 2012
Americans Are So International And Cultured
On the train to my sister's this week, I tried to avoid contact with strangers who seemed way too eager to chat. For a long time, I had a seat to myself across from a couple from Massachusetts.
How do I know where they were from? Because as you can guess, my ride in peace did not last the entire way and I learned a lot about them. Not because I was talking to them, but because chatty Cathy sat next to me and gave away all the state secrets, the Davinci code and revealed who killed J.R.
One of the facts that I was forced to learn is that the entire family, 11 of them, was going to visit DC for a week. These were the grandparents. They were really excited. And they didn't really bother me. It was only chatty Cathy who bothered me. Until this conversation took place. Then I knew if I didn't get off that train at the next stop, someone was going to get locked out between the cars.
Couple: yeah, we're real excited about this trip. We've never been to DC before.
CHatty Cathy: oh you're gonna love it. DC is great where are you staying?
Couple: DuPont circle? Do you know it?
CC: Oh yeah, it's great there. Really quiet. Great area. You'll love it.
Couple: oh yeah? Great.
CC: gee, I wish I knew some restaurants offhand in that area but I don't.
Couple: well, that's ok,I am sure we will find something.
CC: yeah. ...
CC: yeah there's a lot of great stuff there. Let's see. DuPont circle. Oh yeah,that's where a lot of embasssies are...
Couple : OH YEAH WE ARE STAYING AT THE EMBASSY SUITES!!!!
Seriously. If my stop had not been the next one, I would have gotten off and walked. Nothing could have been more painful.
Linking up with Finding the Funny and Saturday Laughs and My Turn For Us
How do I know where they were from? Because as you can guess, my ride in peace did not last the entire way and I learned a lot about them. Not because I was talking to them, but because chatty Cathy sat next to me and gave away all the state secrets, the Davinci code and revealed who killed J.R.
One of the facts that I was forced to learn is that the entire family, 11 of them, was going to visit DC for a week. These were the grandparents. They were really excited. And they didn't really bother me. It was only chatty Cathy who bothered me. Until this conversation took place. Then I knew if I didn't get off that train at the next stop, someone was going to get locked out between the cars.
Couple: yeah, we're real excited about this trip. We've never been to DC before.
CHatty Cathy: oh you're gonna love it. DC is great where are you staying?
Couple: DuPont circle? Do you know it?
CC: Oh yeah, it's great there. Really quiet. Great area. You'll love it.
Couple: oh yeah? Great.
CC: gee, I wish I knew some restaurants offhand in that area but I don't.
Couple: well, that's ok,I am sure we will find something.
CC: yeah. ...
CC: yeah there's a lot of great stuff there. Let's see. DuPont circle. Oh yeah,that's where a lot of embasssies are...
Couple : OH YEAH WE ARE STAYING AT THE EMBASSY SUITES!!!!
Seriously. If my stop had not been the next one, I would have gotten off and walked. Nothing could have been more painful.
Linking up with Finding the Funny and Saturday Laughs and My Turn For Us
Monday, June 25, 2012
Jeeves, Where the Hell Is My Mint Julep?
In my last post, I may have alluded to a carefree summer, full of bonbon eating, bridge party attending and mint julep drinking.
If you have read me for any length of time, I am sure you know just how much of that notion is false,but I think I better clear up some things.
I have never eaten a bonbon. At least, not the rich, chocolatey things that people always think rich people who never work sit around eating. Bonbon means candy in French and yes, I have eaten candy in my life, but never while wearing a mink stole and holding a footlong cigarette in the other hand.
I know nothing about bridge and I really dont even want to take up any more space on my blog with such talk.
And, my biggest confession? I have no idea what a mint julep tastes like. I don't really even like mint that much and I rarely drink. I couldn't even tell you which alcohol is in it. I did promotions for alcohol for many years (and that, my friends, is what we call irony) and I never did have to sell any julep nor did I ever see it on the shelves.
So, let's recreate the image of bliss that I will experience while your children run amok through your houses this summer, free from the confines of la classe de francais. Picture me in my hammock. A cat in my lap. Some totally low level beach novel in my hand. A gorgeous breeze. And me eating cherries and spitting the pits from my hammock without a care in the world.
Now THAT is the definition of class right there!. And that? That is my bliss. Typing the original post on an iPad? Not really my bliss but beggars have no choices.
If you have read me for any length of time, I am sure you know just how much of that notion is false,but I think I better clear up some things.
I have never eaten a bonbon. At least, not the rich, chocolatey things that people always think rich people who never work sit around eating. Bonbon means candy in French and yes, I have eaten candy in my life, but never while wearing a mink stole and holding a footlong cigarette in the other hand.
I know nothing about bridge and I really dont even want to take up any more space on my blog with such talk.
And, my biggest confession? I have no idea what a mint julep tastes like. I don't really even like mint that much and I rarely drink. I couldn't even tell you which alcohol is in it. I did promotions for alcohol for many years (and that, my friends, is what we call irony) and I never did have to sell any julep nor did I ever see it on the shelves.
So, let's recreate the image of bliss that I will experience while your children run amok through your houses this summer, free from the confines of la classe de francais. Picture me in my hammock. A cat in my lap. Some totally low level beach novel in my hand. A gorgeous breeze. And me eating cherries and spitting the pits from my hammock without a care in the world.
Now THAT is the definition of class right there!. And that? That is my bliss. Typing the original post on an iPad? Not really my bliss but beggars have no choices.
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