Wednesday, February 22, 2006
My effervescent technology will defeat your old kung fu
I was blazing down the road a couple days ago going to work and sort of drifted partway into the carpool 
lane for a moment, which turned out to be a good thing. Out of nowhere (okay, I know my physics, that's not possible, but there weren't any trucks ahead of me) this rock strikes my windshield pretty damn hard, leaving a quarter-sized star. Had I actually been in my lane, it would have been in the middle of my windshield, but since I wasn't it was lower and further to the right. Any lower and it could have bounced off my windshield wiper, but what I got was luck enough. I got up early this morning to get that chip fixed ($43), so apparently have the time to blog before I go to work. Mark your calendar, I was up before 9am today!
I was blazing down the road later that same day coming home from work, and I could see in my rearview as I climbed this hill that the car behind me was a Washington State Trooper. It wasn't the light bar on the top that I saw, it was how there's something in the middle when you look through a cop car's front windshield to the back windshield. I'm doing 60-65 so I'm not in fear of a speeding ticket. Inevitably the lights come on, I pull over, and Officer Friendly comes to my passenger side window to have a peek at my license. Not "may I see your license, registration, and proof of insurance?" like they want to see if I have any outstanding warrants or ties to al-Qaeda, just the desire to look at my flattering driver's license photo (hey, I get my kicks off strangers' pictures too!) and pen down some random bit of information. She said the reason she stopped me was because she saw me take the curve at the bottom of the hill a little wide so I was on the shoulder for a moment, and "we State Troopers spend a lot of time in that area" so wanted to ask me to be careful. Funny part? I had been in the center lane the entire climb and the right lane coming up to the hill (two roads merge on the right so there isn't much of a shoulder available), so I have no idea what she was talking about. I figure what really happened was that I blew past a disabled Stater car under an overpass ten miles earlier doing a bit above 70, so the officer who saw me speed couldn't do anything and the officer who pulled me over didn't witness any wrongdoing. Big Brother Is Watching You.
Quick bit of silliness: the writing on a package of Airborne homeopathic health formula, and its store-brand clone Wal-borne, both claim to use "effervescent technology." You never knew Speedy, the Alka-Seltzer mascot, was so advanced!
The love of my life is 5'9" and greater than 200 lbs, but I don't consider her fat. She's not obese anyway. Yesterday when she came home for lunch, she tried to step out of the car onto the pavement and, it being pretty cold here lately, the cement was a tad icy, so she wound up slipping backwards as she was emerging from the car, falling back into the car doorway. No serious damage, but she wrenched herself. This morning I was just starting this screed when she walked into my office wearing her robe and asked if I could have a look at something "in the interest of science." I turned the lights up and she dropped her robe and turned her back to me. Between the dimple on her left butt cheek and the base of her spine was a massive bruise deep within the skin, so it was a faint purple blotch one would have to look at in good light to see. She asked if I saw anything wrong back there, and I replied, "Yeah, you have a huge-ass bruise." She turned and asked, "Are you making fun of me?" I said, "No, I mean you have a bruise and it's huge-ass, not that you have a bruise on your huge ass." And rather than getting miffed at that crack about her crack, she responded, "Okay, thanks, I just wanted to confirm that I had a bruise, it feels like it." There are times that investing in a case of those textured asterisk-shaped stickers people put in their bathtubs and putting them all over the driveway sounds like not such a bad idea. If anyone asks, I'll tell them that the décor of the covered parking area was inspired by the set of The Mike Douglas Show.
lane for a moment, which turned out to be a good thing. Out of nowhere (okay, I know my physics, that's not possible, but there weren't any trucks ahead of me) this rock strikes my windshield pretty damn hard, leaving a quarter-sized star. Had I actually been in my lane, it would have been in the middle of my windshield, but since I wasn't it was lower and further to the right. Any lower and it could have bounced off my windshield wiper, but what I got was luck enough. I got up early this morning to get that chip fixed ($43), so apparently have the time to blog before I go to work. Mark your calendar, I was up before 9am today!I was blazing down the road later that same day coming home from work, and I could see in my rearview as I climbed this hill that the car behind me was a Washington State Trooper. It wasn't the light bar on the top that I saw, it was how there's something in the middle when you look through a cop car's front windshield to the back windshield. I'm doing 60-65 so I'm not in fear of a speeding ticket. Inevitably the lights come on, I pull over, and Officer Friendly comes to my passenger side window to have a peek at my license. Not "may I see your license, registration, and proof of insurance?" like they want to see if I have any outstanding warrants or ties to al-Qaeda, just the desire to look at my flattering driver's license photo (hey, I get my kicks off strangers' pictures too!) and pen down some random bit of information. She said the reason she stopped me was because she saw me take the curve at the bottom of the hill a little wide so I was on the shoulder for a moment, and "we State Troopers spend a lot of time in that area" so wanted to ask me to be careful. Funny part? I had been in the center lane the entire climb and the right lane coming up to the hill (two roads merge on the right so there isn't much of a shoulder available), so I have no idea what she was talking about. I figure what really happened was that I blew past a disabled Stater car under an overpass ten miles earlier doing a bit above 70, so the officer who saw me speed couldn't do anything and the officer who pulled me over didn't witness any wrongdoing. Big Brother Is Watching You.
Quick bit of silliness: the writing on a package of Airborne homeopathic health formula, and its store-brand clone Wal-borne, both claim to use "effervescent technology." You never knew Speedy, the Alka-Seltzer mascot, was so advanced!
The love of my life is 5'9" and greater than 200 lbs, but I don't consider her fat. She's not obese anyway. Yesterday when she came home for lunch, she tried to step out of the car onto the pavement and, it being pretty cold here lately, the cement was a tad icy, so she wound up slipping backwards as she was emerging from the car, falling back into the car doorway. No serious damage, but she wrenched herself. This morning I was just starting this screed when she walked into my office wearing her robe and asked if I could have a look at something "in the interest of science." I turned the lights up and she dropped her robe and turned her back to me. Between the dimple on her left butt cheek and the base of her spine was a massive bruise deep within the skin, so it was a faint purple blotch one would have to look at in good light to see. She asked if I saw anything wrong back there, and I replied, "Yeah, you have a huge-ass bruise." She turned and asked, "Are you making fun of me?" I said, "No, I mean you have a bruise and it's huge-ass, not that you have a bruise on your huge ass." And rather than getting miffed at that crack about her crack, she responded, "Okay, thanks, I just wanted to confirm that I had a bruise, it feels like it." There are times that investing in a case of those textured asterisk-shaped stickers people put in their bathtubs and putting them all over the driveway sounds like not such a bad idea. If anyone asks, I'll tell them that the décor of the covered parking area was inspired by the set of The Mike Douglas Show.
Comments:
<< Home
"Huge-Ass," "Big-Ass," or anything remotely similar are not words we ladies like the hear in any way, shape, or form associated with our big, huge asses.
Words like "taut,", "fine," and "defined" are acceptable though.
Just a few days ago, my son said, "Mom, your butt is looking very defined. I thought you'd like a compliment."
Very good son, very good.
He's learning.
Words like "taut,", "fine," and "defined" are acceptable though.
Just a few days ago, my son said, "Mom, your butt is looking very defined. I thought you'd like a compliment."
Very good son, very good.
He's learning.
Notes for Jamie:
1: Hit refresh on the page, I added a bonus thought to the page... as well as a title, somehow I forgot one!
2: If the shoe fits, find one just like it. Yes, women want to have slender haunches but life isn't always like that. Heck, there are women that don't want to hear they have "fine" backsides either, but we are a litiginous breed here in the States. For some reason this reminds me of the ex-fiancee, who wanted me to tell her that she had dark, swarthy eyes because that's how she felt about her belated father. She was born a redhead with pasty white skin, so her eyes were light brown -- "brown as shoes" as she said glumly -- so I told her I couldn't claim them to be swarthy. Didn't score any points with her, let's say.
3: Your son has been checking out your ass. What's the message here? :-D Glad that you are able to take this as a compliment; plenty of mothers out there would be shipping their kids off to boarding school right then. Mine would have crapped through her pants.
1: Hit refresh on the page, I added a bonus thought to the page... as well as a title, somehow I forgot one!
2: If the shoe fits, find one just like it. Yes, women want to have slender haunches but life isn't always like that. Heck, there are women that don't want to hear they have "fine" backsides either, but we are a litiginous breed here in the States. For some reason this reminds me of the ex-fiancee, who wanted me to tell her that she had dark, swarthy eyes because that's how she felt about her belated father. She was born a redhead with pasty white skin, so her eyes were light brown -- "brown as shoes" as she said glumly -- so I told her I couldn't claim them to be swarthy. Didn't score any points with her, let's say.
3: Your son has been checking out your ass. What's the message here? :-D Glad that you are able to take this as a compliment; plenty of mothers out there would be shipping their kids off to boarding school right then. Mine would have crapped through her pants.
I failed to tell the whole PRE-story.
My son overheard my Hubby say awhile back that my backside was getting well defined with all my grueling hours on that torturous elliptical trainer.
I said how great that made me feel. That a lady likes to hear compliments every so often.
So... my son has said that on a few occasions since.
He tosses the comment out there for a chuckle, and of course, he gets a good laugh out of it.
My mother swears by that Airbourne. I used it when I went to Asia last summer. It really is fizzy like Alka Seltzer, but it tastes orangy.
My son overheard my Hubby say awhile back that my backside was getting well defined with all my grueling hours on that torturous elliptical trainer.
I said how great that made me feel. That a lady likes to hear compliments every so often.
So... my son has said that on a few occasions since.
He tosses the comment out there for a chuckle, and of course, he gets a good laugh out of it.
My mother swears by that Airbourne. I used it when I went to Asia last summer. It really is fizzy like Alka Seltzer, but it tastes orangy.
I once heard my dad tell my mom that her ass was cold (this required me to be outside their bedroom door one night, admittedly), and that's really as far as my mind ever ever needs to go. It is good to hear from one's spouse that their derriere is tasteful/tasty, indeed. From one's child, hmm, it's what got Oedipus into trouble years ago.
There are three flavors of Airborne:
-regular, which is like orange + straw [insert horse noises]
-lemon-lime, which is delightful
-grapefruit, which I like rather well
And all I can say to Walgreens is... start making the grapefruit flavor too, yo.
There are three flavors of Airborne:
-regular, which is like orange + straw [insert horse noises]
-lemon-lime, which is delightful
-grapefruit, which I like rather well
And all I can say to Walgreens is... start making the grapefruit flavor too, yo.
The "Grand Tetons" photo caption is hilarious. I think she was trying to push them out there.
I like the Horsnagle one mostly because the name Horsnagle sounds funny.
The low gallows pose no threat whatsoever.
I always like when you toss in a baby photo. If I were 32 instead of 42, I'd be wanting to have a couple more babies. I hear that a 62 year old woman gave birth last Friday to a baby boy. The lady has diabetes & is legally blind. I hope she has a nanny.
I like the Horsnagle one mostly because the name Horsnagle sounds funny.
The low gallows pose no threat whatsoever.
I always like when you toss in a baby photo. If I were 32 instead of 42, I'd be wanting to have a couple more babies. I hear that a 62 year old woman gave birth last Friday to a baby boy. The lady has diabetes & is legally blind. I hope she has a nanny.
I hope she has a nanny too, since calling the baby's grandma to babysit is probably out of the question. ;-) Chances are it's gonna be the kid's older siblings, who have grandkids that child's age, that will be taking the brunt.
Why should reproduction be done for vanity purposes, lady?!
Thanks for the comments on my pix. I have plenty of baby photos (could be their own update sometime) and serious, I can show you a photo of me in my grandma's crib from Dec '68 and it looks exactly the same as that scared kid.
Why should reproduction be done for vanity purposes, lady?!
Thanks for the comments on my pix. I have plenty of baby photos (could be their own update sometime) and serious, I can show you a photo of me in my grandma's crib from Dec '68 and it looks exactly the same as that scared kid.
Maybe that lady policewoman liked your driver's license picture. You should have written her a note with your Laughter is the Spackle of the Soul url.
Post a Comment
<< Home
