Greetings!

Hi there.

I'm currently in Florida where the temps are in the high 70's. I'm currently wearing capris and my flip flops.

So, here's a shout-out to those in KC. I hear you guys have a 50% chance of snow on Sunday.

I'll blog more later. Right now, I need to go do vacation-related stuff.

Keep warm!!

The Bastard Holiday Known as Thanksgiving

When I was a kid, you celebrated holidays in chronological order. Halloween filled with costumes, candy and whatnot. Then, you moved on to Thanksgiving, which really isn't a big deal when you are kid...just an excuse for the entire family to come over for dinner. Then, you moved on to big finish of the year...Christmas.

You didn't go and fuck things up by putting up your Christmas tree before Thanksgiving!!!

I personally like Thanksgiving. I like having the family together for a big meal. It used to be, you didn't need an excuse to get the family together for dinner, you just did. Now, in the era of fast food and frozen dinners, various meetings and whatnot, families don't eat together...unless it's a holiday. Or sitting in the living room, watching some crappy reality show, while eating KFC.

So even though Thanksgiving is now viewed by a lot of people as the precursor to the Black Friday Sales, I want to wish everyone out there a big happy Turkey Day. Eat your turkey. Enjoy your family. Rejoice in the origins of the holiday and hug an Indian (foreign or domestic).

And stay away from Aunt Lois' green bean casserole. If the dog won't eat it, it's probably not safe for human consumption.

What Happens When You Piss Me Off On a Bad Day

With vacation coming close, Mom and I are rushing around, getting junk done. Tonight, we went out and bought a couple more things. While we were out, Mom lamented that she needed to pick up her prescriptions from Hellmart. Ordinarily, I avoid Hellmart so close to a holiday because that's when EVERYONE ELSE goes there. However, with the invention of the drive-thru pharmacy, mingling with the huddled masses can be cut down to a minimum.

But that didn't mean we wouldn't wait anyway.

Apparently, I wasn't the only one with the brilliant idea, as there were three cars in front of me. No matter, we could wait. Not everyone was as patient as I was, a couple cars pulled out of the line and sped away in a huff.

Except the douche bag behind me.

We finally got our turn after a 15 minute sit and stew moment, and we were instructed to wait by the harried pharmacist. I can only imagine what the line inside the store looked like. I think we waited a good 15 minutes before he asked who we were picking up for. Another 5 minutes, and he sends a slip of paper to sign.

Meanwhile, douche nozzle behind me grows impatient. I'm guessing he had a Viagra prescription he needed to pick up.

Mom signs her paper and sends it bacl. We wait another 10 minutes. While we wait, we are discussing the first things we will do when we board the ship.

Douche nozzle honks his horn.

Excuse me? Two days before a major holiday, everyone is getting their 'scripts refilled so they can go out of town without worrying about running out, plus half of Jackson county is as Hellmart AT THE SAME TIME, and this ass clown thinks honking is going expedite matters. Inside his small, corn-fed, pea-brain, he apparently thinks I can control how fast the pharmacist works.

I can't even make the pharmacists at my own hospital work faster. What the hell am I supposed to do with Walmart Pharm D???? Run inside and personally put my foot up his ass????

Mom gets her meds, signs her receipt, and sends it back to the pharmacy. Finally, we can leave. I put the car in gear just as Asshole honks his horn again.

"Excuse me for a minute." I tell Mom calmly. I put the car back in park, roll down the window, extend my arm out, showcasing the one-fingered salute for a solid 15 seconds because he was obviously a little slow, pull my arm back into the car, roll up the window, put the car back in gear, and drive away.

Had I been irate about it, I would have calmly got out of the car and given this ass clown a reason to need medication. As it was, I was tired, hungry, and it really wasn't worth the effort. I had contemplated just sitting there for an additional 5 minutes, but that wouldn't have been fair to the 2 other cars behind us.

I do try to be considerate of other people, you know.

Good Thing I'm Leaving the Country...

I'm unhappy today.

I don't know if it's because I was sick (better now). It's not like I had a bad weekend or anything. Actually, I think it's probably a culmination of things.

I'm unhappy because Bosshole doesn't value me as much as he values a BSN. Well pardon me if I didn't have a parental teet to suck on while putting my own ass through college. Not everyone can go to a four-year university. And there is nothing wrong with community college.

I'm unhappy because I know a friendship is coming to an end on a simple matter of trust. I don't trust them, and without trust, there is nothing.

I'm unhappy because I can't get into the classes I need for next semester. Is Statistics really that popular???

I'm unhappy because my gym progress isn't progressing as well as I would like. I really need to quit comparing myself to other girls. I've got a lot going for me, even if most other guys don't know it.

I'm unhappy because my WoW character keeps dying, and I'm starting to grow weary of searching for my corpse.

I'm unhappy because I think I'm permanently damaged and incapable of having a normal, healthy relationship.

I'm unhappy because I have a shit ton of stuff to do before I leave. Cleaning the entire house would be one of those things. Giving Sam a bath would be another. And packing.

I'm unhappy because after 15 years, I still struggle with things in my past, while my brothers have fared better. Anniversaries blow. So does introspection.

Maybe it's just a case of the blahs. Maybe a week away will do me some good. I'll come home all nice and tan and ready to hate the world once more.

At least I'll have brought good coffee home to enjoy while I do so.

NOT. HAPPENING!

It would appear I've been afflicted with the same GI bug that's hitting most everyone else at work.

I go on vacation this week.

What a load of crap!!

Literally!!!

The Ideal Gift For Those Who Have Everything

Last year, I posted an offering for the Mormons Exposed calendar. I now realize that the year is drawing to a close, and now people will be needing new calendars to keep track of the 2009 year.

With that in mind, I present a nugget of gold with this gay 29 year old in Memphis who has his own calendar.

For $14.99 plus $5 shipping, you can own the Chubby Mikey calendar. He's totally nude...not that it matters because his 530lbs covers everything. Think about it...if you can't see his winkie, can you imagine when the last time was that he did???

Now, I'm going to try to figure out who to buy this for. Everyone in my immediate circle is on the short list.

Christmas is coming!!

Annoyed...

Here at work.

Annoyed.

Will blog about it later when I'm sure I'm not going to go nuclear.

That may take a while.

Hank the Tank: 9 months

Life with a growing saint bernard is interesting. Hank is full of love and he's eager for attention. A very easy disposition, but he loves to be the center of attention.

Now, at 9 months of age, he weighs roughly 100lbs. Give or take a few. His father weighs 200lbs, his mother around 160. Did I mention that it takes almost 2 years for a saint bernard to reach their maximum weight?
When Hank commits to a spot for napping, you may as well resign yourself that he's just there until he's done because it takes some effort to get him to move. Unless, of course, you entice him with cheese. Or anything else that is remotely edible. Thankfully, he's what they call a "dry mouth". Which means he only slobbers after eating or drinking. Any other time, no drool.
Hank has never met a food he didn't like. He's even managed to eat a couple things that were not meant to be eaten.

I've been keeping a mental tally of everything he has decimated. A garden hose, the big spindle that the garden hose was on, a rake, a shovel, a welcome mat, a little plastic kiddie pool, 2 gas hoses for the bbq grill, and various little odds and ends. I powerful storm caused a 7 foot tree branch to fall in the back yard. Hank had reduced it to wood chips within 3 days. So, I know if I ever have a need for mulch, I know I just need to give him some wood.
When Brother moves out, he's going to owe me so much crap, he'll probably have to take out a loan.I can't be a hater, though. Could you stay mad at this face??
After all, he's still just a baby.

Nurse Follies: The Things That Make Nurses Smile After a Long Shift

Pretentious Resident enters the unit with the strut of a guy who thinks he's teh shit.

Only he's sporting the most hideous of fauxhawks. But it's not a trendy one that only has a little height. At it's tallest point, it stands 6 inches off his head.

Did I mention he's Indian???

Remember when you were a kid, and you were in the bathtub, and you'd soap up your hair and stand it straight up??? Yeah, that's what this guy looks like.

It's hard work to keep your guffaws in check until PR leaves the unit. You can seriously hurt yourself if you're not careful.

Just Listening...

Guns 'n Roses will finally release Chinese Democracy in a few days. Finally. After fifteen years of broken promises...FINALLY.

For those who may want to buy the cd, but worry about shelling out money for a steaming pile of crap (St. Anger, anyone?), the band has posted the album on their myspace page.

Another nurse, after listening, pointed out that the new album is mostly Axl Rose screaming. I countered that Axl Rose screams in all his albums, so at least he's being consistent.

In high school, our French club went to France the summer before our senior year. While at a museum, they saw Axl Rose, all short and surly, wearing a flannel shirt, and smelling like hadn't bathed in years. My best friend, who didn't even know who he was, was not impressed.

I still haven't decided if I'm going to buy the new album.

Are you?

Playing the 'craft

A while ago, some ICU nurses were singing the praises of WoW (World of Warcraft to you non-computer geek folk). I had heard of this game only twice before. Once featured on a South Park episode, the second being while I was in nursing school. Student-Nurse-Know-It-All was having issues with her husband playing the game all the time. All. The. Time. It wasn't any wonder. If I was married to a pug-faced troll, I think I would want to hibernate in front of a computer game, too.

Anyway, a bunch of ICU nurses played the game, and I should join them because it was so much fun and blah, blah, blah. So, I bought the game, but my computer at the time sucked hard, and not in a good way. With the coming of the new and improved computer, I was finally able to download the game and begin to play.

Yes...it is very fun. You get to pick the kind of character you play, design their look, give them a name (mine is a latin name for naughty parts). You get to interact with people all over the world. Go on quests. Earn stuff. Kick ass. And die. You get to die. A lot.

I've lost count how many times I've died. Fortunately, in WoW, death is not permanent. It's simply a matter of figuring out where you last saw your corpse and retrieving it.

As in life, my WoW character is a complete klutz, as evidence by all the stupid ways I have died.

Some examples:
- I fell out of a Zeppelin just as it was getting ready to dock.
- I fell out of a tree, about 200 feet, into water that was only 3 feet deep.
- I accidentally backed into a large, deadly, purple spider while trying to sneak away from a smaller, less menacing one.
- I fell off a cliff trying to see how high it was.
- Bitch slapped by some bloated marshmellow creature while I was spying on the undead. Bastard just snuck up behind me. I think it farted before it killed me.
- Getting killed by my target because I was healing them instead of smiting them.

I don't play the game often. Usually, after dying five times in a row, I get disgusted and quit playing. My character is not strong offensively, and more of a healer. For one of my professions, I decided to become a tailor. It was that, or cooking.

So, if you want to play with me, come find me in Silver City...stuck at level 13.

I'll make you a pair of pants.

Your Thought for the Day

Boobs are not meant to be the color of boiled lobster.

They should not feel as though you just had them boiled either.

It kind of hurts.

Nurse Follies: Uhhh...What?!?

Last night sucked great, big donkey wieners.

The paging system went on the fritz and we could not get a hold of any doctors. We almost had to resort to sending smoke signals just to get a suppository order.

Maintenance came with their little cart in tow, telling us that they needed to strip parts off our ice machine so the parts could be used in the operating room on Monday.

WHAT!?!?!

Apparently, in the ENTIRE hospital, our ice machine is the ONLY one that has this part. We're going to be without an ice machine for 3 days for surgery.

Did I mention that the needed parts came from an ice machine??

Natrually, we have an abundance of patients who are only allowed to eat ice. But they can't have ice because our ice machine was stripped of parts needed to run the heart bypass machine/snow cone maker.

Spiffy.

Oh, Deer

I've just heard that Brother scored him a deer using his "funny" gun...which is an old revolver with a scope attached.

We made fun of him at constructing such an oddity.

Would he really need a scope to shoot at point blank range??

Now, we're never going to hear the end of it...

However, this does mean tasty venison steaks and summer sausage on yonder horizon!

Christmas is Coming...Bleh

So here we are...November. Just over a month away, it will be Christmas.

I have been scheduled to work both Christmas Eve and Christmas, and this saves me from another noteworthy family fiasco like last year. Really, I couldn't stomach another round of family karaoke. That sort of thing needs to alternate. Once every five years works for me.

Because I am working both Christmas holidays, I will get the following weekend off. This excites me more than the holidays. I plan on doing stuff that you can only do on weekends, and that I usually miss out on. I don't know what those things are, but I will be soliciting suggestions. Maybe a gathering of friends might be in order.

I also have New Years' Eve off. So, if you would like to incorporate me into your festivities, let me know.

At any rate, I haven't done diddly squat as far as Christmas shopping goes. I probably should make an effort to do it, and not wait until the last minute and just be wiener and give everyone gift cards. I should probably consider buying a tree of my own, and not have to resort to borrowing Indy's anorexic tree. However, the presence of a 100lb saint bernard does give me pause. I've seen him take a 7 foot tree branch and reduce it to mulch. What if he decides to eat the Christmas tree?

I figure I will get most of my shopping done on vacation. Who doesn't like Jamaican rum? It's a pity there is an embargo on all things Cuban. I know a couple people who would love a Cuban cigar.

If I don't find anything suitable on vacation, there's always sex toys.

Agh!

I spent only half the usual allotted time in the tanning bed. And I burned anyway.

Boobs, butt, legs, back, shoulders, face.

I hate fake baking.

Vacation Prepation Begins

Yeah, I know that vacation is a few weeks away, but as I always say: Luck favors the prepared.

Thus far, I've managed to buy some new clothes on clearance. You know, because it will be cold here, and I will be baking my ass off closer to the equator. Thankfully, stores are all to happy to get rid of their summer stuff, and I am all to happy to oblige.

In preparation for vacation, I've discovered a latent obsession: travel-sized items. It's like crack to me. Toothpaste, mouth wash, deodorant. The bigger the selection, the happier I am. You can find just about anything in travel-sized.

It's not like I'm a size-queen or anything. I don't like everything to be small.

Just ask Starbucks.

My most awesome find came today at CVS when I found they sold the little bottles of Tide. One bottle will wash up to 4 loads of wash. On the ship, you have to mortgage your house for one box of detergent that will wash, maybe, one full load.

This evening, I had my first session of tanning. As a rule, I avoid the sun unless slathered in SPF 500. This is why I look younger than I really am because I don't look like a saddle. Plus, as pale as I am usually, the sun isn't my BFF. However, a trip to the Caribbean mandates fake baking, lest I want to spend the entire week of my vacation holed up in my room with an industrial sized bottle of Aloe. Even with a base tan AND sunscreen, I usually fry. Somewhere in my family tree, there is an albino, I just know it.

At any rate, Mom and I both got tanning packages, and tonight was the first night. I picked one of those stickers that you stick on yourself to see just how tan you get over time, but just like tattoos, I couldn't figure out where to put it. So, I chucked the sticker. Any hint of color on me, people are bound to notice without the help of a little white heart on my body.

I baked for 7 minutes, and I still feel the burn on the backs of my legs and my face. I will so happy when I don't have to fake bake anymore. Some people are addicted to it. You usually can pick those people out of a crowd because they look like Oompa Loompas. Either that, or they are featured on Hot Chicks with Douchebags...as the "hot chick" or the douchebag. Sometimes, it's hard to tell the difference, particularly in California and Florida.

I'm mentally ready for vacation, but not even remotely close to being prepared physically. I have to make lists. Lists of what to pack. Lists of what to do before I go. Lists of home improvement projects for Mr. Recommendation while I'm gone. Even a list of lists I need to make.

I'm probably going to need a vacation to recover from vacation.

That's what Mardi Gras in New Orleans is for!

Legal At Last!

Today I slept in as late as I damn well pleased. Got up, showered, dressed, leisurely drove to the DMV. There was a line, but a short one. Long enough for me to stand and take in my surroundings.

A little sign posted told me to make out my check to MODOR (Missouri Dept of Revenue). Someone drew a little "r" in there, so now it read MOrDOR. Oddly appropriate considering one of the ladies behind the desk did remind me of Gollum.

I have decided that no matter your socio-economic standing, race, gender, creed, age, etc...the DMV makes EVERYONE look downtrodden. Is it the lights? Is it the vortex of despair that is maintained by those who work there that suck us in??

(Really...have you ever seen one of those people actually HAPPY to be working there???)

You could go in there wearing a designer suit, $1000 pair of shoes, talking on your Crackberry, and in the harsh atmosphere of the DMV, look like you just came from a homeless shelter.

No one looks good at the DMV, which is why we all look like crap in our driver's license photo. I'm starting to believe that is deliberate.

So, now, I'm legal to wander the streets of KC in my car. Woo hoo!

Grrr

After I got all my crap straightened out to get my car tags renewed (and believe me, it was quite the cluster fuck), I made a point to get up early (before 9am), to be the first one at the DMV.

I was not on the first one there, I was the ONLY one there.

Happy Veterans Day.

A Fitting End for a Crappy Weekend

Nothing caps off a bad weekend than coding one of your patients.

Twice.

Right around shift change.

You could say it was a salmon kind of weekend.

Bust your ass to get upstream, only to get screwed and die in the end.

Ugh!

Nurse Follies: A Dog Named Doctor

Sometimes, I think it would be a swell idea to get another dog and name him Doctor.

Then, I can go home after a bad night at work and kick the Doctor.

I can lock the Doctor up in a cage.

I can dress the Doctor up in a bumble bee costume and point and laugh. Or I can take him to the groomer for the most ridiculous haircut, only to take him to the dog park so other people can point and laugh at the Doctor.

I can leer at the Doctor and tell him that he's really, really dumb. The Doctor would just lick his own ass to prove my point.

I can feed the Doctor food that smells like ass and tastes even worse.

However, I like dogs better than I like most people. No dog deserves to be treated that way.

So, instead I will stick with the voodoo dolls.

Concerts and Culture

I'm considering getting tickets to go see Lion King. Problem is, I can't find anyone else that's interested in seeing it. Would just a little culture be that painful?

I want to go see Trans-Siberian Orchestra this season. I'm pretty much the only person in Kansas City who hasn't gone.

I'm also considering buying tickets to see AC/DC. However, the cost of the tickets give me pause. Metallica wasn't that expensive AND I got the album with the ticket. Plus, I don't know anyone who wants to go see them.

But Willie Nelson is coming to town later this month...and I REALLY like him. Almost as much as I like Elvis.

I'd rather eat a dirt sandwich than go see New Kids on the Block. I hated them back when they were actually kids, and my feelings have not changed. The girls who used to wait at the bus stop with me would squeal and jump as they talked about how cute they were. They also dissected each new episode of 90210. I wanted to punch them in the throat.

Decisions, decisions!

A Tale of the Undecided Voter

I usually reside in the middle, with leanings to the right. I loved McCain, thought he was a great man, and in 2000, I was ready for him to be our president. When he announced his candidacy for 2008, I was excited. Here was a man who usually did what made sense, and not just because it was expected of him by the GOP.

Then, something changed and McCain became the very thing he despised about his party. I still clung to hope. Then, he (or rather, his party) selected Caribou Barbie as his running mate. I balked, but still hoped. Then, I heard her speak. She had the mental capacity of cole slaw. I was insulted, but yet I still held out hope that McCain would pull his head out his ass, ask Palin to step down, so he could select the running mate he wanted, and not the running mate the GOP thought would sway my vote just because she had a vagina.

This country is broke. Literally and figuratively. We are despised by other nations. We are in wars and no one can give a clear reason as to why. Families are losing their homes. People are losing their jobs. Socialism exists today only for the wealthy, while the debt of capitalism is passed along to the lower and middle class. Don't believe me? Take a closer look at the bailout plans.

Sure, some people voted for Obama because he was black, but on the same token, some people didn't vote for him because he was black. One is just as wrong as the other.

However, there are people who voted for him because they know that the current way of doing things is obviously not working. They voted because they finally got fed up with not being heard. They voted because they know that the country that we are today, is not the country that our forefathers had in mind when they penned the Constitution. They voted because they know that people should not fear their government, but the government should always fear it's people.

This election reminded the government as to why.

I voted for Obama, not because I'm some young idealist who expects unicorn and rainbows with the Obama administration. I voted because I look at the country today, and it makes me sick to see what has become of it. I voted because I'm tired out or nation being whored out in the name of greed and malice by men in secret combinations who are above the law of the people who elected them. I voted for Obama because it was my one chance to say, "Enough!"

It amazes me to see just how powerful a democracy of the people can be. It astounds me that government heard my voice. This election was historic on many levels, I'm still trying to wrap my mind around it. I think if George and Ben could see us today, they would nod their heads in satisfaction as if to say, "That's how it's supposed to work!"

I don't know what the future holds, but I do have a pretty good of what will happen if we stay on our present course. You only need to look to the histories of other great civilizations to know how they fared. This country is in such bad shape, it will take years to restore us to greatness. Obama may not be the be-all, end-all solution, but he felt like a good place to start.

I will do what is asked of me by this administration if it means our country will be better for it. If it means that I don't have to watch people die anymore only because they don't have sufficient health care. If it means that children will have access to a good education. If it means that all Americans truly do have the right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness regardless of race, creed, gender, or socioeconomic status.

Because that is what it means to be an American.

So, yeah, I voted for Obama.

What of it?

Gearing Up for Letting My Hair Down

Vacation is just weeks away!

I purchased new luggage, some new clothes.

I still need to get my hair done. I also need to get my pasty ass into a tanning salon. I'm not too thrilled about that last part. However, I don't want to spend the majority of my vacation tending to a blistering sunburn...even after wearing SPF 500. I'll burn even with a base tan, but not to the point where I'll be incapacitated, spending the entire week holed up in my room wearing, well, nothing.

The countdown has commenced.

So, be sure to keep your eyes open for the new installment of "Ship Happens".

Bleh

I sold my soul to the devil so I could have Sunday night off.

Now, he's come to collect in the form of me working tonight.

Bleh.

I Came, I Saw, I Voted

I got up around 9am or so, dressed, drove to the local voting station and did my civic duty. The lines were long...for the A-O crowd. Lucky for me, my last name comes towards the end of the alphabet. While the lines extended all the way out the door, I bypassed all of them and went up to the table that had the later letters. Absolutely no wait.

Which leads me to think that if I marry, I'm going to have to find someone with a name that begins with the letters P-Z, or just hyphenate my name...which would cause me to spend five minutes just signing a check.

After voting, I stopped by Krispy Kreme for my civic duty donut. Civic duty is hard work, and I earned that donut. So did the thirty or so other people who were also there to collect their donut. Cars were stopped out in the street waiting to turn into the Krispy Kreme parking lot. No empty parking spaces. It was crazy.

I had lunch with my friend, Trish, and we ate at Noodles and Company at Zona Rosa. It's is for pasta what Chipotle is for burritos. Or something like that. It was tasty, and I will go back someday.

After lunch, I stopped by the store for camera batteries (as I drained mine at the Chiefs game). I came home and discovered that I made a colossal boneheaded mistake, of which I may or may not blog about later. Despite my IQ and wit, it's things like this that remind me that underneath it all, I'm still a blonde.

So, tonight I shall be out among the masses, watching the election results among friends. This is a historic time, and I want to witness as much of it as I can.

Game Day

Ahhh...the Chiefs game. Where to begin???

I managed to get home from work in the morning, changed into jeans and a Chiefs shirt. I took my vitamins and fought the urge to just lie down and snooze for a minute. I went over to Mom's house, where the others arrived, and we set off for our day's adventure.

But not until we stopped by Starbucks for something caffeine-charged. Starbucks was insanely busy with other people who were going to the game. In true fashion, they fooked up my beverage, but at that point, I didn't care. I drank it anyway and was grateful for it. Some cities don't even have a Starbucks.

Across from Starbucks, sat a very busy McDonalds with a flurry of activity. I don't know what, but three cop cars pulled up, and one officer jumped out of his car packing an AK or whatever assault rifle sponsored by the Independence PD. A couple minutes later, he walked, dejected, back to his car. There would be no gun play today.

From there, drove to the stadium and found our tailgating party. Because I had been awake for a while, I was in full-on crab mode. Realizing I forgot my hat, I went to one of the little tents that sold Chiefs crap and bought another hat. I'm sure I paid too much for it, but I didn't care. I had a new hat, and I was happy for the time being.

I love hats the way some women love shoes. Even if I do look like a Make-a-Wish kid when I wear them.

Light tailgating ensues by our group and we enter the stadium. Our seats are out of the sun, which defeated the need for the hat.

At least Belly Guy didn't have to worry about getting a sunburn. (I wonder how much lint that belly button can hold?)

Apparently, it was Armed Services Day at Arrowhead, and they had a bunch of guys in their uniforms. Pre-game, they walked around the stadium, which was cool because people would go down to the field and shake their hands as they walked by. In the parking lot, I witnessed strangers approaching these military folks just to tell them thanks.

That's the sort of thing that makes me proud of my fellow Americans. However, during halftime, they had a group of new recruits take their oath. So, while they are standing on field, hands raised, reciting the oaths that set the course of their lives, which may or may not end in the ultimate sacrifice, some asshole Chiefs players are practicing their throws and kicks. Would it really have been that much of a hassle to not do that while these kids were taking their oaths??? I mean, I understand that you need to warm up because you're million dollar job could hang in the balance, but it was rude to do it while some 18 year old was standing right there taking an oath to die for your douche nozzle ass if that is what was required.

I have half a mind to write to someone and bitch about it.

I'm willing to guess that this is when Karma decides to show up and crap on the team for the second half. Serves them right.

At any rate...

The Chiefs Cheerleaders wore something to get into the spirit of the day.

It didn't help their dancing. Here, they all try to fart to the music. I just assumed this because of the smell.

At the beginning of the game, the Chiefs actually looked like an NFL team. The crowd, burned a million times over by this team, actually got excited because it really did seem like we'd actually win a second game this year. Then, of course, Herm Edwards decided to use the junior varsity squad of some random high school for the second half, and the team blew a big lead, losing in sudden-death overtime by a field goal. Way to go, dumbasses.

I bought a big pretzel for myself and Mom. They were $4 each, and apparently left over from last season. I couldn't even eat half of the shriveled up thing. I contemplated sending a message to that Chiefs hotline they have set up when fans have a concern or complaint while in the stadium.

The section we were in featured many regular season ticket holders. The two guys in front of us had apparently been sitting there since Arrowhead was first built. Everyone seemed to know them, and they really were nice. They truly did have team spirit, even though the Chiefs reside in a constant vortex of suck.

However, there was a woman who sat behind us that screeched like a pterodactyl. So much, that our ears were ringing. It was horrible, and I wanted to turn around and punch her in the throat if it meant shutting her up. It was almost as bad as that lady who "sings" for the Chiefs band.

Anyway, the Chiefs, in keeping with their time-honored tradition in showing that only a Dyson can suck harder, lost the game. Shocking. Everyone leaves the stadium, some cursing Herm Edwards as they did so.

So,the dejected fans go home in their respective mode of transport.

And the Chiefs players go home in theirs...

Santa goes back to the North Pole to try to work on getting the team a new coach and general manager for Christmas. Maybe even a new defensive line.

After we finally extracted ourselves from the traffic, we went home. We had dinner at Fuddruckers, and I came home and went to bed. Awake from 4pm Saturday, finally going to be at 7:30 pm Sunday night. EXHAUSTED.

The day wasn't a complete wash, though. I got a new hat. AND...and day that I get to see Elvis is an automatic good day.

So Tired

I've been awake since 4pm yesterday. All that time, plus an extra hour...I'm EXHAUSTED.

I worked last night, had a crappy shift, stayed up all day for the Chiefs game...which I shouldn't have to tell you how that turned out. Had dinner with the fam, and now I am home. All I can think about is sleep.

I couldn't put out if I wanted to. In fact, I'm pretty confident I would sleep through it.

However, I did take pics at the game. I'll post a more detailed review tomorrow. Or whenever I happen to wake up.

Beans, Beans, the Musical Fruit

After the Halloween party I had on Wednesday (which was fun, and not nearly as wild as the Christmas party...which I'm okay with), I had a HUGE amount of leftover hot dogs and baked beans. So, I did what any resourceful person would do...I cut up the hot dogs and mixed them with the beans. Brother wasn't interested in eating them. There's only one other way to efficiently get rid of leftovers without having to resort to feeding them to the saint bernard: take them to work.

When I got to work, I was somewhat dismayed to see that our very own Lothario of Farts was working. Not that he's a bad worker, but we know him to frequently pass gas.

It's almost at will.

And extremely toxic.

And paint peels off the walls.

I only know of one other who can match his talent, and he has already transferred to another floor.

I'm just going to say that it used to be that when these two worked together, I'd have to frequently watch my back because their favorite hobby was cornering me somewhere and ripping ass, leaving me nowhere to escape. ~shudder~

At any rate, it seemed that this was the wrong night to bring a big bowl full of beanie weenies to work.

For lunch, the entire staff helped themselves to bowlfuls of my fabulous, yet ill-fated concoction. Even Indy stopped by for some.

I suspect that the mass fiber intake will make itself manifest in a few hours. I can only assume that some confused patients are going to be blamed for the smell. They are confused and cannot defend themselves.

Such cruelty!

Meanwhile, I'm sitting here, armed with cucumber-melon scented spray.

Luck favors the prepared.