Father Dear

Dad emailed me a great story about his elk hunt exploits last week.  So great, that I asked his permission to share it with you.

I get more comments about my dad’s comments … I think his comments on this blog along with this story will assuage all doubts any may have about my parentage.

I am definitely my father’s daughter.

So, our guest blogger, Father Dear, writes:

I am going to tell you something that a good many people would be embarrassed to admit, but should you see some humor in this, it is worth it to me to explain it.  The condition was NOT funny, but that is what allowed this to happen.  The snow and cold temperature and poor selection of boots, plus not much hiking combined to keep my feet so very cold they were numb–so numb in fact, I didn’t feel something in my boot that amounted to more than a pebble.  Because of my cold feet, I changed boots when we went to camp for lunch, and the attached photo shows what was inside my boot.  Believe it or not, I was walking on this gem all morning and couldn’t tell it because of the numbness in my feet.  The foot long ruler wasn’t in my boot–I only included it in the photo for size comparison.

I’ve never had an interest in having a “boot knife”, but I had one yesterday.

I might mention that if there is another winter hunt in my future, I plan to select a location near a better camp option (generally known as a MOTEL).

Yep.  That’s my dad!

Thanks Dad.

 

The swines

I was reading a blog recently where the author was talking about her case of the swine flu.  She then proceeded to enumerate all the ways she exposed herself to the public.

Now, this is a really cool blogger.  I like her.  She’s pretty low-key, kind of a serious blogger, and quite a good writer.

But I was puzzled.  Really?  In this climate you’re going to blog about how you had the swine flu and then got on a plane and traveled across the U.S. trying to stifle your coughs and stem the tide of your runny nose so people won’t think you’re sick?

Which you are.

Very.

She said the person she sat next to was pretty cool about it.

Holy cats! 

Well, at least the person next to her was “cool” about it… Yeesh.

Why couldn’t she at least have had the decency to wear a mask?

Look, I don’t think the swine flu is, at this point, necessarily the huge deal the media is making it out to be.  Because really, if you have the regular flu you have as good of a chance of dying.

My point, at this juncture, is that I think all flus are equally menacing.

But you know what?  I don’t want the regular flu either.  Keep your germs to yourself.  And if you have the swine flu, don’t blog about how you exposed half the nation on your recent cross-country flight.

But even more surprising, someone commented on her blog about her recent swine flu adventure in which she flew to California to see her friend’s brand new baby, and just couldn’t stop herself from cuddling the little critter.

 

What in the world??

 

And honestly, what was the friend thinking to let this infected woman hold her baby?

I’m no doctor, but doesn’t swine flu kill babies??

Well, after all, she had traveled through two states to see the infant…

In related news, the media has uncovered the source of the swine flu.  I knew it had to come down to some irresponsible kid.

P.S.  For some reason this entry is all weird on spacing.  Try to overlook it.  I tried to fix it…repeatedly.  Sigh.  I hate being so anal.

fer rude

A sentence should never start with any of the following:

• I don’t mean to be rude…
• Not to be rude…
• No offense…
• Don’t take this the wrong way…
• I probably shouldn’t be saying this…
• I’m not supposed to know this…

Danger Will Robinson!  Danger! Danger!

If you find yourself starting a sentence in any of the above ways, take heed:  STOP!   Just stop yourself.

You’ll thank me later.

If you are a man in a relationship of any kind with a woman, let me help you out.  NEVER say any of the following:

• Are you going to eat all of that?
• Wow, you must be hungry.
• Are you sure you want to eat that?
• Let me help you lose weight. (Or, what can I do to help you lose weight?)
• Are you sure you want to wear that?
• Have you gained weight? (obvious I know, but some men need extra help)
• Didn’t those pants used to fit you?
• Wow.  You sure can eat a lot.  I think you can eat more than me!

And just so you know, the answer to the question “Do these pants make my butt look big?” is NOT “No.  I think your fat butt makes your butt look big.”

The correct answer, no matter what is truth, is (and said without any hesitation whatsoever): “Of course not, honey!  You are beautiful!”  (don’t even add “to me” to that sentence - that negates the sentence)

My dad actually had a friend who was shy and at a loss for what to say to his date, so in some kind of epileptic attack he said, “You sure don’t sweat much for a fat girl.”

Yowza.

I had a friend once ask me, “Do you think I’m too thin?”  I said, “We’re not that good of friends.” 

I mean, really.  Who asks their larger friend that??

Mini the Driver

Mini got his learner’s permit a month or so ago.  I KNOW!  He’s just too young, and, well, let’s face it, too small.

Apparently not according to the DMV.

And he does, however, have my daughter-in-law by three inches now.  And she drives.  All the time.

I’m just sayin’.

Anyway, it is evidently not that easy to pass the learner’s permit test.  They ask weird random questions that simply don’t have anything to do with driving.

Reminding me of a scene from, seriously, the best show on TV, The Big Bang Theory:

As with Sheldon, Mini aced it.  But by actually taking the test.  Passed on the first time.  Yay!

So Mini is smart.  Really smart.  Yet…not so practiced at driving.  I should have realized this when I turned my mid-sized SUV over to him in the Costco parking lot.

This is the difference between the first kid and the last.  With the first kid, I would have been freaking out.  With Mini, I was just laughing.  And I couldn’t stop.

I let him pull out from the parking stall.  “You’re getting pretty close to that car.”  “Still pretty close bud.”  “Awfully close sweetheart.”  “I think you’re going to hit that car honey.  Don’t turn the wheel so much.”

Oh my gosh!  So funny!  And there was a huge black Suburban waiting for us to get out, and I could see the driver was laughing.  And I was laughing.

And poor Mini.  I thought he’d driven before!  I thought my husband had let him drive (against my wishes) but apparently my husband listened to me!

And my car has really sensitive brakes and acceleration.  There was a lot of jerking.

Once we got on the road Mini turned to me and said, “Isn’t this fun?” 

Mini knows and understands sarcasm.  And he’s quite funny.

At one point he reached up to adjust his rearview mirror as we were driving and he started to drift into the oncoming lane, from which was approaching a large cement truck.

I did speak a little more quickly on that one.  But hopefully not too loud.  We were never in any danger, but still.  Yikes.

But he’s so cute!  That kid can get away with anything.

And that’s the way it is

• Have you noticed that each kid lucky enough to have a parent patient enough to wait in a ridiculous line for the H1N1 vaccination has the same terrified look on her face…as the moms and nurse have this weird smiley thing going on?

                Holy cats, moms can be cruel.

• Hackensack, N.J.  Good news for fat people.  Obesity is now a viable defense for murder.  Edward Ates’s attorneys claim he couldn’t possibly have run up and down the stairs and executed the quick getaway the murder timeline indicates because he’s just too fat and out of shape.   I knew there was a good reason to be fat and out of shape.
• Yorba Linda, California.  Oh those PTA ladies.  Tried to make a cute slogan for their elementary school jog-a-thon by using 1-800 followed by letters meant to encourage.  Turns out the letters coincided with an actual phone number.  One of the parents called the number and was connected with an adult chat line.  Oops.
• Coral Springs, Florida.  Boys.  So hot headed.  Fourteen-year-old Matthew Gorzynski was listening to music on his computer while his fifteen-year-old brother William Gorzynski was trying to watch TV.  That Matthew can be so annoying.  William told Matthew to turn it down.  Well he didn’t.  They argued.  Loudly.  Then William went into the kitchen and grabbed a 7-inch knife and stabbed Matthew in the chest!  And killed him.  Yeah, Matthew won’t do that again.  A more detailed article here.
• And finally, good news for Walmart customers.  You may now buy caskets online.  Just like Costco!   I knew they’d come around.  You are welcome.

Juan, this is A-mer-i-ca

Juan Estephan Lopez, 21, of Salt Lake City, (at least at this moment), was sure that three certain 11-year-old boys spray-painted an obscenity on the side of his new car.

Juan was ticked.  And he just wasn’t going to take it anymore.

He tracked down each boy, all in different locations, and shoved each in his car.

Once he’d gathered all the boys, Juan drove to an auto-body shop and called the mother of one of the boys.

And demanded $1000 (estimated cost of repairing his car) before he’d release the boys.

I don’t know how things are done south of the border, but here in the United States we don’t kidnap kids for repair ransoms.

Oddly enough, Juan is in the United States illegally.

Go figure.

I’m sure he was shocked when kidnapping charges were filed against him.

A-mer-i-ca dude.  A-mer-i-ca.

Story here.

Post script:  Good news…I’m caught up on my newspaper reading, but today’s paper has too many greatly weird stories.  Buckle up.  And soon, I’ll be back to regular blogging.

White trash defined

Who needs a dictionary when you have this visual?

This, dear friends, is a motorized La-Z-Boy recliner.  Built from American-made ingenuity and a gas-powered lawnmower, complete with stereo, cup holders, a steering wheel, headlights and power antenna.

And yet, the story doesn’t end here.

Dennis LeRoy Anderson, 61, of Proctor, Minnesota, was the proud owner and creator of this fine piece of workmanship.  Estimated speeds reached 15-20 miles per hour.

Did I say “was”? 

I think I did.

Because Mr. Anderson, on a particularly wild bender that started in his living room, left a bar and drove his La-Z-Boy into a Dodge Intrepid innocently parked in the parking lot.

Police arrived, administered a field sobriety test, which Mr. Anderson failed, and carted Mr. Anderson’s backside to the slammer.

Mr. Anderson’s blood alcohol level was 0.29 percent.  Just to give you an idea, the legal limit in Utah is 0.08 percent.

Mr. Anderson was smashed.  And driving on a revoked license.

Bad day for La-Z-Boy cruising Mr. Anderson.  Bad bad day.

The La-Z-Boy has been impounded and is up for police auction.

Just in case you wanted to know.

Full story here.

Old news

I’m way behind on my newspaper reading.  Like a week and two days.  But there has been some old stuff I’ve hung on to that is totally noteworthy.

Two in one day.  You can even use the same link.  Aren’t I thoughtful?

First word of caution:  Do not golf in South Carolina.  A man in his 70s leaned over to pick up his ball, and an alligator bit it off! 

I can’t help but try to relive the scene in my head.  Old guy is golfing with buddies.  Reaches for ball near pond.  Alligator comes from nowhere, drags him into the pond and yoinks his arm off.

Friends freak out.  Wrestle alligator in the pond.  Are able to free their friend.

Seriously – try to picture this…a bunch of old guys wrestling an alligator. 

In a pond.

Victorious.

Wildlife guys kill the alligator and retrieve the arm.  Hoping to reattach it.

No word yet on reattachment success or lack of it

Next story, right below this one:  Another example that there should be a test before anyone is allowed to procreate.

Sheboygan, Wisconsin. (What a fantastic name.  It had to be said.)  A woman shoplifts beef jerky and a lighter. (??)

Okay, then the article says police went to her home.  I find that part of the story weird as well.

How did they know she’d stolen beef jerky and a lighter?  How did they know who she was?  Where she was?

And seriously, do the Sheboygan police really have nothing better to do than to track down a woman who stole beef jerky and a lighter?

Nevertheless.

Police go to her home.  She strips to her underwear in front of her children and tells the police they can’t arrest her because she’d be naked.

A scuffle ensues.  She exposes herself.

All in front of her children.

Just…picture it.

Nice.

All for beef jerky and a lighter.

Proof here.

You are welcome for these mental images.

Snap crackle pop

So I went to the chiropractor yesterday because I was having trouble turning my head to the right, and I find that it’s pretty important to me to be able to turn my head to the right. 

So I went.

The men in my home call what the doc does “voo doo.”  So what if he does the “strong finger” test and uses light laser to balance my innards?  So what if he strength tests my emotions?  So what if he said he was “screwing” my son’s leg back on when he was doing acupressure?

Yet, they keep going to him.

Whatever.

I just know this…I feel better when I leave.

But he does do this one thing that feels so good and yet feels so wrong.

First you need to know that my doctor (some wouldn’t call him that, but I do) is kind of strange…looking and personality.  A little overweight, white comb-over hair, and big rather yellow horsey teeth.  And he tells me about his other patients which a) I don’t care about and b) is against the law I’m pretty sure.

Anyway…

Picture:  I’m lying on my back on the chiro table, arms crossed over my chest.  He reaches his hand back around to my spine and places his fingers wherever they need to be to stretch my back in just the right place.

He tells me to take a deep breath in and then breathe out.

I always breathe in through my mouth and out through my nose.  Why?  Because I don’t want to breathe bad breath on the guy.

I’m thoughtful that way.

So, on my back, arms crossed, his hand reached around, breathing…

Then he takes his rather soft body and kind of heaves it onto my chest for two bounces.  And several of my vertebrae pop.

Rather satisfyingly.

What if someone walked in?  That would look strange.

It is strange.

But feels OH SO GOOD.

Pop-ular

Weird.  I posted my blog site address on facebook because a few friends had asked for it, and I had the highest traffic day of my blogging history!  So exciting…

And then…a huge drop.

What do you suppose that means? 

Those new people who read it thought it was dumb?  And so they are DONE?

Extreme high (OH MY GOSH!!  LOOK AT THOSE NUMBERS!!) to sad, sad low (no one loves me anymore).

Am I bipolar OR WHAT??

Sad.

Though I am excited about you new readers and thanks for commenting.  This post will be sort of administrative. 

I often comment on the comments but I am so behind that the comment sidebar widget thingy will look like I’m the only one who ever comments on my blog because they will all be “dunnthat” and that is just pathetic.

So I wish to spend this post commenting on your comments.  But mostly I just want to see how many times I can write “comment” or any of its derivatives.  Comment.

Anna…always there for me.  Comments on every blog no matter how lame.  Heart you.  Thanks for thinking I have a nice rack (this was her filter fyi).  I only have a nice rack because I’m fat.  Glad you’re avoiding Golden Corral…for several reasons.  And I knew you would “get” the cookie dough reference.  We are kindred spirits.  And, for those of you who care, Anna is number one’s girlfriend.  I have permission to use that word in terms of who she is in relation to number one.  Girlfriend.  Girlfriend girlfriend girlfriend.  She is hysterical and you all should read her blog. 

Chancemusings (heretofore known as CM- just way too long the other way):  Glad you’re here.  You are so sweet to always read my blog and comment.  Glad to help you with your newspaper reading.  You’re welcome. <g>  Number 3 did have stress-related blisters in his throat – turns out.  And I do NOT have it going on…fyi.  I can’t believe you went to Donkey Beach as well…How did you hear about it?

Emily H…you should comment more.  I’m glad you read.

Tish…Oh Tish…such a loyal friend.  You will never be out of dunnthat world.  Sorry you think I’m gross.

Andrea…I can’t believe you read my blog in the hospital during labor.  I’m honored.  And amazed.  And I think your underwear is magic when it separates itself in the wash.  Wish mine did.  And I’m pretty sure we have the same underwear.

Emily S…Stop saying effing.

CM and Emily S….I am going to try Zumba.  Thanks for the suggestion.  I still hate the gym.

Father Dear is indeed my dad.  Isn’t he cute?  I love that you read my blog Dad.  Always my biggest fan.  Always.

M Park…Love when you comment.  I miss you.  I’m glad you read even though I gross you out, too.

Emily M…to remind readers…was on a nude beach on her honeymoon when she threw her top on her sleeping husband’s face and ran to the beach.  Sounds like a movie.  Was there music?  You do realize sweetie, that this is only a good thing when one looks like YOU.   And thanks for the kidney.  I may take you up on it sometime.  Em.

Natalie…thanks for dropping by.  It’s fun to see you here.

Erin…New reader!  Yay!  Thanks for dropping by.  Your family’s hot.

Mary…I miss you.  You are the reason I started a blog.  I need you to read my blog for validation…don’t you understand??  Glad you’re back…if you are… Don’t give me the whole “I have three kids under three” speech.  Heard it before.   Check out Anna’s blog.  As mentioned above, she is D’s girlfriend

Stephanie!  Great to see you here.  I love that you’re reading and think I’m funny, but I’m sad you had to do it from a hospital bed.  WTH??  

Kate…I miss you.  I brag about you all the time.  I can’t believe you’re this big deal doctor now   I’m so glad to have you back.  I know you were on sabbatical…from work and stuff.  I’ve missed your comments and I love you.  And I will try to keep from getting salmonella.  If I must.

Troy.  Brave brave Troy.  Lone man in the wilderness.  I am SO GLAD you read my blog!  You rock.  Adam and Eve…did Adam volunteer the rib?  Or did Heavenly Father just take it?  If it was just taken, then Eve has a steady leg to stand on in all arguments.  Even though the woman that He gavest Adam ate of the fruit. 

Linda…Be brave my friend!  Keep commenting!  I love when you do.  Protein drinks…there is not enough Splenda in the world.  Nothing like a protein shake bubble bursting up through my throat either.  Ew. 

Amy Amy…Forever Amy…a true blue friend who has always kept the faith…So glad the swine flu didn’t kill you.  I’d be so sad.  You are bionic.  For sure.

To so many of you…glad I’m not the only germ freak.  I’ll probably be the first one to get swine flu in my family.

I’ll try to keep up on my commenting on your comments from here on out.  But this was fun for me…reliving all your greatness.  Hope it was fun for you…nothing like seeing your name in print, right?