So, I didn't win the blog makeover giveaway thingie. Oh well...win some, lose some. I went to check the winner to see what their blog was about. Well, I really couldn't tell you what it was about...I fell asleep part way in.
Night shifters...we're so unreliable.
At any rate, I guess we are stuck with the white (or rather, off-white, or maybe more grayish than white) on black until I can procure my own blog master (or mistress) that won't charge me my left kidney for a complete overhaul. Or even someone who can be paid in sex toys. Money is so common...why not be compensated with the gift that keeps on giving!
That being said, I am still holding my Pleasure Chest Giveaway. Now, I am opening up entries for whomever wants to enter. The ones who selfless pimped my blog, you get three extra entries, which puts you at a definite advantage.
I've been putting together the Pleasure Chest, and I must say that it's looking pretty good. I tend to overdo with things like that...which can only mean good things for the winner.
So, if you want to enter, just leave a comment. And I will announce the big winner on my birthday...March 21, which used to be the First Day of Spring, until some asshole scientist decided that the first day of spring was March 20. Whatever. In my book, the first day of spring will always be on my birthday. How else am I supposed to remember when it is when I'm a senile senior citizen?
I didn't do anything spectacular for St. Patrick's Day. I thought about going out with the masses of asses and drink green-colored beverages so I can have green urine later. But then, I remembered I'm not Irish, and I have a birthday I need to save my reserves for. Instead, Mom and I enjoyed Mongolian BBQ. Because nothing says Happy St. Patrick's Day like a steaming plate of stir fry.
Time to go to bed...I've got work to prepare for!!
Showing posts with label Holidays. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Holidays. Show all posts
Thursday, March 18, 2010
Saturday, January 30, 2010
The Belated, Much Anticipated Christmas Party Post!
Redneck Brother is something of a social creature. He plans BBQ's, gatherings, parties, whatnot. I guess he and I are a lot alike in that respect. He is generous to invite the Big City Family (us) to his functions. However, he does have one bad habit...he usually waits to invite at the last minute. Because he lives 45 minutes away, and people work odd hours (leaving little time to find someone to work for you), we almost hardly ever get to go. Because we are not able to attend all of the events, I'm confident that Big City Family has earned the reputation of "High Falutin' Snobs With Their Fancy Book Learnin" by the family of my sister-in-law.
So we told Redneck Brother, we can only attend his events if he gives ample notice. He took our words to heart, because three months before his "First Annual Blended Family Christmas Party", everyone got invites in the mail...party, Santa, dinner, and ~shudder~ karaoke.
Not wanting to endure this alone, I sought out an escort. Indy is an avid people-watcher. Not to mention he never met a meal he didn't like. So, one chilly Saturday night, Big City Family plus one, set out to the sprawling metropolis of St. Joseph, Missouri. I have it on authority that St. Joseph boasts the very first trailer park in the state of Missouri.
Immediately upon arriving, I get lost and we end up in a more seedier part of town because no one in St. Joe believes in putting numbers on their buildings. Making a quick u-turn, I finally find the place. Right next door to this place.
So we told Redneck Brother, we can only attend his events if he gives ample notice. He took our words to heart, because three months before his "First Annual Blended Family Christmas Party", everyone got invites in the mail...party, Santa, dinner, and ~shudder~ karaoke.
Not wanting to endure this alone, I sought out an escort. Indy is an avid people-watcher. Not to mention he never met a meal he didn't like. So, one chilly Saturday night, Big City Family plus one, set out to the sprawling metropolis of St. Joseph, Missouri. I have it on authority that St. Joseph boasts the very first trailer park in the state of Missouri.
Immediately upon arriving, I get lost and we end up in a more seedier part of town because no one in St. Joe believes in putting numbers on their buildings. Making a quick u-turn, I finally find the place. Right next door to this place.
The location was a little banquet hall which also serves as a meeting place for some local union. Redneck Brother had initially reserved it for a wedding reception for a cousin of his wife (which I think is ridiculous to foot the bill for a cousin of a spouse), but for whatever reason, the wedding was postponed and so Redneck Brother came up with the Christmas party idea. At any rate, the hall was just an moderate-sized square room with a stage on one end, and stacks of folding chairs on the other, where all the children set to climbing over in a contest to see who could get sent to the hospital first.
And there was zero ventilation. And smoking was allowed. In a non-ventilated room with children. You know, normal people would have stepped outside to smoke. But you have to remember, that most of these people are denizens of the trailer park, and are governed by a completely different set of mores.
Indy was immediately sorry he didn't bring his inhaler.
The invite told everyone to bring their kids, because this was a blended family event. They even had a section where you could put your little ones.
Everyone came in their festive holiday best.
And what redneck holiday gathering would be complete without the appearance of the resplendent mullet?
Redneck Brother cooked a metric shitload of meat, which was very good, because folks in my family are talented cooks that way. So, the charge was put on everyone else to bring side dishes. And people answered the call.
And all was going well until Chester Molester showed up, who is really Redneck Brother's former brother-in-law, but for whatever reason, the guy still buzzes around the family. Now, I don't know that he's a molester...he just puts off that vibe.
Anyway, Chester saunters up to the food table, lit cigarette in hand, and starts picking food out of dishes...with his bare hands, and eating right there at the table. And just like that...dinner is over for Big City Family Plus One...which disappoints the hell out of Indy because he doesn't consider it a good meal until he's had at least four plates. Why that man doesn't weigh 500lbs, I will never know.
Mr. Recommendation revealed to us later that he earlier, he spotted Chester sitting at a table mining for gold. That's it to say, he was picking his nose. And you know guys like that only get soap on their hands is when they are in the shower (if that). Even later, we mentioned all this to Redneck Brother, who wasn't surprised, and told us that is why he waited to open the food trough until we arrived.
At any rate...
So, here comes Santa, of whom I am convinced was a homeless guy my brother paid to wear the Santa suit for an hour.
We made Mother go and sit on his lap. She came back, reporting he smelled of stale cigarettes, and had really, REALLY bad breath. I think she may have felt a little dirty. I hope Santa didn't touch her in her No-No Zone, because he did look a little shifty.
And look! Dessert is now ready. And for those who can't be bothered to leave their cigarettes unattended for two seconds, someone was thoughtful enough to put an ashtray at the dessert and beverage table.
And finally, to cap off the night, out comes the karaoke machine, and as expected, Mullet Man got up and grunted through a Garth Brooks song. It was then that Big City Family Plus One made a hasty retreat.
It sounds like the Redneck Christmas Extravaganza is going to be an annual event. To prepare, we are going to bring a shit load of Purell, a portable air purifier, and we're going out to eat before we get to the party. Because it is a Prime People Watching Event of Epic Proportions, I may just raffle off tickets to be my date.
Friday, May 22, 2009
Pulling One Off In May!!
Did you know that May is National Masturbation Month? I'm sure I did in my subconscious somewhere, but somehow forgot. I know, I'm a terrible person.But we do have a week left, so not all is completely lost.
I know what you are thinking: masturbation is bad. It will cause hair to grow in your palms. It will cause you to go blind. It will keep you in your mother's basement and reduce you to maintaining a blog featuring scantily clad women.
All myths! Okay, maybe except that last one.
All the taboos aside, masturbation is not bad for you, and will not land you in hell. It has many benefits:
For men:
— Strengthens the immune system
— Building his resistance to prostate gland infection
— Makes for a healthier prostate
— It cleans the plumbing.
For women:
— Building her resistance to yeast infections.
— Combating pre-menstrual tension and other physical conditions associated with their menstrual cycles, like cramps.
— Relieving painful menstruation by increasing blood flow to the pelvic region. This will also reduce pelvic cramping and related backaches.
— Relieving chronic back pain and increasing her threshold for pain.
For Both:
— The safest kind of sex, keeping you free of sexually transmitted infections.
— A great form of stress relief.
— A mood booster in releasing endorphins.
— A natural sleep sedative.
— A mechanism for building stronger pelvic floor muscles, which can lead to better sex.
— A natural energetic pick-me-up.
— Decreases blood pressure.
— It increases self-knowledge. If you don't know how to get yourself off, how can you expect your partner to always know how to do it?
Because it is a National Month, it is your patriotic duty to do yourself a big favor.
Hop to it!! Your nurse and Passion Parties Consultant says so!!!
Sunday, May 10, 2009
Saturday, February 14, 2009
Happy Hallmark Day!
Ahhh...it's that time of year when people lose their minds and drop serious coin in an effort to fully express their love and appreciation for the object of their affection. Either that or further their cause to finally get laid by that special someone who may be holding out.
My disdain for VD (Valentine's Day) has been well documented. If only for the fact that so much emphasis is put on the one day, and the rest go ignored. Dammit! I should be worshipped for the Goddess I am every single day of the year!! Save for some bank holidays. And doctors appointments. 
If you are going to spend money on someone, at least make it practical. I once dated a guy who gave me a little basket filled with stuff I liked and I actually wanted, like those little rings that make your eggs perfectly round for English muffins. The boyfriend is long gone, but I still have the egg rings and still use them frequently.Indy spotted me at work, scribbled down a "Valentine Wish" on a kleenex, and chased me down the hall to present it to me with much flourish. I spent the remainder of the morning waiving the tissue around and announcing to everyone that Indy gave me VD. I might have left off the word "card".
On a side note, this has been a strange week for me and the opposite gender. Earlier this week, I got a random message from the lawyer I dated briefly so many years ago telling me to delete him from my contacts because he was "in a relationship with a woman he loved". The weird part being that I haven't talked to him in a year or so since he gave me his number for referrals when he was unceremoniously dumped from his job as prosecutor after he got busted for drunk driving. I don't know what initiated this, I would assume that maybe all the exes got the same message. So, I just shrugged and did as asked, even though I had contemplated full disclosure by telling him that he sucked in bed and had a tiny penis.
I'm pretty happy with my current personal life, none of which I will divulge at this time. I don't expect him to do anything for me today because that's not how we roll. If he did, I would almost expect his offering would require a couple AA batteries...and a can of Reddi-Whip.
So, here's to another Valentine's Day. I think the best ones in my life were when I was a kid and we had fun Valentine's Day parties in elementary school. Before anal parents were created, you could still have home-baked treats brought in, and the rest of the afternoon was pissed away by eating said treats, swapping cheap Valentine cards, suckers, and red hots, and showing your ass because your mother had the misfortune of being the Class Mother for that particular party.
Those were the days!!!
Saturday, December 20, 2008
Things That Make My Blood Run Cold
A text from Redneck Brother, inviting me to his house in St. Joe, for New Years Eve.
"Come for beer, food, pool, karaoke and more"
If he'd quit putting "karaoke" in his invites, more people might actually be inclined to attend.
Meanwhile, I need to find something to do for NYE so I have a legitimate excuse to decline.
Any suggestions???
"Come for beer, food, pool, karaoke and more"
If he'd quit putting "karaoke" in his invites, more people might actually be inclined to attend.
Meanwhile, I need to find something to do for NYE so I have a legitimate excuse to decline.
Any suggestions???
Friday, December 12, 2008
Fah-rah-rah-rah-rah, A Christmas Meme
In the nature of the giving/receiving season, I thought I would try to get out of Grinch Mode and do this meme.
1. Wrapping paper or gift bags?
If I have the time, I will wrap. I'm pretty handy at wrapping, unless the gift is odd-shaped. If I'm in a hurry, or the gift is odd-shaped, into the bag it goes.
2. Real tree or Artificial?
I like both. I'd prefer to have a real tree each year, but it always ends up dying before Christmas in spite of my almost heroic efforts to keep it alive. I like the smell of a real tree, but hate the needles. Artificial only if it is pre-lit.
3. When do you put up the tree?
When I'm in the mood, but not usually before Thanksgiving. Usually, I'm not in the mood, and I don't put up a Christmas tree.
4. When do you take the tree down?
When I get around to it or it becomes a fire hazard. Or sometime in March. Another good reason to not put up a tree in the first place.
5. Do you like eggnog?
Yes, but only in small amounts, just plain without any adult additives.
6. Favorite gift received as a child?
A red bike so I could ride to school instead of walk.
7. Hardest person to buy for?
My mother. She always says "nothing" when we ask, leaving us to try to figure out what to give her.
8. Easiest person to buy for?
Me. When I want something, I buy it. In terms of others, buying gifts for Toys 4 Tots is pretty easy.
9. Do you have a nativity scene?
No, unless I make one out of the numerous snowman figures I have packed away somewhere.
10. Mail or email Christmas cards?
Neither. I always say I'm going to mail out Christmas cards, but I never do.
11. Worst Christmas gift you ever received?
Something given to me by an aunt on my dad's side of the family. I don't remember what it was, but I remember that I didn't like it.
12. Favorite Christmas Movie?
A Christmas Story. My life's dream is own a leg lamp.
13. When do you start shopping for Christmas?
Christmas Eve
14. Have you ever recycled a Christmas present?
I plead the 5th.
15. Favorite thing to eat at Christmas?
Honeybaked Ham
16. Lights on the tree?
Sure...
17. Favorite Christmas song?
1. Wrapping paper or gift bags?
If I have the time, I will wrap. I'm pretty handy at wrapping, unless the gift is odd-shaped. If I'm in a hurry, or the gift is odd-shaped, into the bag it goes.
2. Real tree or Artificial?
I like both. I'd prefer to have a real tree each year, but it always ends up dying before Christmas in spite of my almost heroic efforts to keep it alive. I like the smell of a real tree, but hate the needles. Artificial only if it is pre-lit.
3. When do you put up the tree?
When I'm in the mood, but not usually before Thanksgiving. Usually, I'm not in the mood, and I don't put up a Christmas tree.
4. When do you take the tree down?
When I get around to it or it becomes a fire hazard. Or sometime in March. Another good reason to not put up a tree in the first place.
5. Do you like eggnog?
Yes, but only in small amounts, just plain without any adult additives.
6. Favorite gift received as a child?
A red bike so I could ride to school instead of walk.
7. Hardest person to buy for?
My mother. She always says "nothing" when we ask, leaving us to try to figure out what to give her.
8. Easiest person to buy for?
Me. When I want something, I buy it. In terms of others, buying gifts for Toys 4 Tots is pretty easy.
9. Do you have a nativity scene?
No, unless I make one out of the numerous snowman figures I have packed away somewhere.
10. Mail or email Christmas cards?
Neither. I always say I'm going to mail out Christmas cards, but I never do.
11. Worst Christmas gift you ever received?
Something given to me by an aunt on my dad's side of the family. I don't remember what it was, but I remember that I didn't like it.
12. Favorite Christmas Movie?
A Christmas Story. My life's dream is own a leg lamp.
13. When do you start shopping for Christmas?
Christmas Eve
14. Have you ever recycled a Christmas present?
I plead the 5th.
15. Favorite thing to eat at Christmas?
Honeybaked Ham
16. Lights on the tree?
Sure...
17. Favorite Christmas song?
O Come Emmanuel...and only if sung by men's choir.
18. Travel at Christmas or stay home?
18. Travel at Christmas or stay home?
If I'm not working, usually stay home. If I have to travel, it's usually no more than 50 miles away.
19. Can you name all of Santa’s reindeer?
19. Can you name all of Santa’s reindeer?
Dasher, Pole Dancer, Prancer, Vixen, Comet, Cupid, Dumbass, Blitzed and Clyde
21. Open the presents Christmas Eve or morning?
21. Open the presents Christmas Eve or morning?
My family's old tradition was one gift Christmas Eve (and it was usually new pajamas), the rest on Christmas morning. If I have kids and stuff, I'll resurrect that tradition.
22. Most annoying thing about this time of the year?
22. Most annoying thing about this time of the year?
How retailers cram it down our throats in September.
23. Favorite ornament theme or color?
23. Favorite ornament theme or color?
I like my Hallmark ornaments, but Christmas lights are my most absolute favorite.
24. Favorite food for Christmas dinner?
24. Favorite food for Christmas dinner?
See question 15
25. What do you want for Christmas this year?
25. What do you want for Christmas this year?
A leg lamp and a festivus pole.
Thursday, November 27, 2008
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.
Saturday, November 15, 2008
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.
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.
Friday, October 31, 2008
Happy Halloween!!
I just want to wish everyone a safe Halloween. I'll be working, so I won't have to dish candy out to the little beggars. Meanwhile, the hospital should experience an influx of stupid people, so it's not like I'm totally going to miss out on the holiday.By the way...this ass isn't mine.
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Crappy Halloween Candy Explained
I don't know too many kids who didn't like the whole trick or treat aspect. Unless you count the times you wore a flimsy costume and it was sub-zero temperatures. And it was rainy. If you don't remember the cheesey kid costumes made of vinyl that had a cheap mask that only had little pinholes to see and breathe out of, you don't know that was the trick or treating equivalent of walking up a hill, both ways, in six feet of snow.
Trick or treating was a gamble. You had a chance of either scoring some really good stuff, like Snickers bars, or the REALLY good stuff: something homemade...like cookies, cupcakes or popcorn balls (before the poison candy scare of the 70's and 80's...WHICH I REMEMBER!!).
Then there are the times the pendulum swings in the opposing direction and you got the coup de grâce in the form of those nasty, orange circus peanuts. Maybe you'd get the occasional health conscientious person who would slip you an apple, which sucked because they were usually brown in spots and inedible anyway. Sometimes, you'd get pennies. PENNIES! You'd go home and count up seven cents in pennies, and curse because you can't do diddly squat with seven pennies. If you were my brothers, you'd take your rotten apples and pelt them at the houses that gave you the pennies.
You always remembered the houses that gave you the awesome booty so you return there next year. You also made a mental note of who gave away crap because you would avoid the house as if there were a registered sex offender sign in the front yard for future Halloweens to come.
I was at the store, buying some stuff for the party, when I wondered into the Halloween candy isle. There, I observed a couple, married long enough to where they started to look alike. The husband was picking up bags of candy, and his wife was telling him whether he should put it into the cart. He picked up a bag of assorted Hershey's stuff. Everything in the bag was good and desirable to any kid. The wife made a face.
The husband picked up a bag of some weird off brand, filled with crap that I wouldn't even eat if stranded on a deserted island.
"That candy is gross." The wife proclaimed. "Put it in the cart."
The husband was puzzled.
"If the candy is gross, why do you want to give it to the kids?"
The wife looked at her husband as if he had just asked where babies came from.
"Because the kids will eat it. I won't. Nothing with chocolate!"
I wanted to tell her that, no, the kids will not eat it. And by passing that shit out almost guarantees a flaming bag of dog poo on your porch by the en
d of the evening.
So, is this why people pass out crappy Halloween candy to trick or treaters? I used to think that it was a financial issue, but this was disproved as I had seen wealthy people dish out shit and pennies, while the lesser affluent had the decency to give out M&M's.
People give out shit because women lack self control? If they bought the good stuff, they would snarf down every Payday and Reece's Peanut Butter cup, depriving the cold, shivering trick or treaters their reward from a night of begging. Then, having no decent candy to hand out, would resort to giving out Peeps or something equally horrifying as a substitution.
In conclusion, I implore you to think of the children this year as you go to buy your Halloween candy. If you don't like children, at least think of your house and how you don't want to spend this weekend trying to get the toilet paper out of your trees because you lack the self control to refrain from eating the 102 piece assortment of chocolate bars. Don't punish the children because you are a compulsive candy eater and a cold, heartless bastard besides.
Please, think of the children. Just say no to NECCO wafers.
Trick or treating was a gamble. You had a chance of either scoring some really good stuff, like Snickers bars, or the REALLY good stuff: something homemade...like cookies, cupcakes or popcorn balls (before the poison candy scare of the 70's and 80's...WHICH I REMEMBER!!).
Then there are the times the pendulum swings in the opposing direction and you got the coup de grâce in the form of those nasty, orange circus peanuts. Maybe you'd get the occasional health conscientious person who would slip you an apple, which sucked because they were usually brown in spots and inedible anyway. Sometimes, you'd get pennies. PENNIES! You'd go home and count up seven cents in pennies, and curse because you can't do diddly squat with seven pennies. If you were my brothers, you'd take your rotten apples and pelt them at the houses that gave you the pennies.
You always remembered the houses that gave you the awesome booty so you return there next year. You also made a mental note of who gave away crap because you would avoid the house as if there were a registered sex offender sign in the front yard for future Halloweens to come.
I was at the store, buying some stuff for the party, when I wondered into the Halloween candy isle. There, I observed a couple, married long enough to where they started to look alike. The husband was picking up bags of candy, and his wife was telling him whether he should put it into the cart. He picked up a bag of assorted Hershey's stuff. Everything in the bag was good and desirable to any kid. The wife made a face.
The husband picked up a bag of some weird off brand, filled with crap that I wouldn't even eat if stranded on a deserted island.
"That candy is gross." The wife proclaimed. "Put it in the cart."
The husband was puzzled.
"If the candy is gross, why do you want to give it to the kids?"
The wife looked at her husband as if he had just asked where babies came from.
"Because the kids will eat it. I won't. Nothing with chocolate!"
I wanted to tell her that, no, the kids will not eat it. And by passing that shit out almost guarantees a flaming bag of dog poo on your porch by the en
d of the evening.So, is this why people pass out crappy Halloween candy to trick or treaters? I used to think that it was a financial issue, but this was disproved as I had seen wealthy people dish out shit and pennies, while the lesser affluent had the decency to give out M&M's.
People give out shit because women lack self control? If they bought the good stuff, they would snarf down every Payday and Reece's Peanut Butter cup, depriving the cold, shivering trick or treaters their reward from a night of begging. Then, having no decent candy to hand out, would resort to giving out Peeps or something equally horrifying as a substitution.
In conclusion, I implore you to think of the children this year as you go to buy your Halloween candy. If you don't like children, at least think of your house and how you don't want to spend this weekend trying to get the toilet paper out of your trees because you lack the self control to refrain from eating the 102 piece assortment of chocolate bars. Don't punish the children because you are a compulsive candy eater and a cold, heartless bastard besides.
Please, think of the children. Just say no to NECCO wafers.
Sunday, June 15, 2008
Thoughts On Father's Day
Through my years of reading, my vocabulary is pretty big. I'm usually the one that pulls out the five dollar words in conversation.
In the past 15 years, there is one word. The simplest word. Probably the very first word most babies will say. The word that crosses my mind frequently, but it rarely crosses my lips.
Dad.
In the past 15 years, there is one word. The simplest word. Probably the very first word most babies will say. The word that crosses my mind frequently, but it rarely crosses my lips.
Dad.
Thursday, February 14, 2008
Happy VD
So, today is Valentine's Day...
Zzzzzzz.
I'm celebrating by taking the PT in to the shop. The belts have been squealing, plus I'm fairly sure there is an oil leak involved. I know it's Valentine's Day and all, but I'm really hoping I don't get bent over and done dry.
The water guy came over yesterday to service my water system. Naturally, they had to send the mentally retarded service tech. In between going from his van to the basement, I'm entertained with stories on how he got his ass reamed by his boss for not checking the oil in his van.
I once had a patient spontaneously bleed from her lungs and she died before my very eyes in what was the biggest, bloodiest code I've ever had the misfortune of witnessing. I'm still traumatized. So, unless your work problems can compete with that...I really, really don't care.
Corky finally replaces the filters and carbon in the system. It takes him so long that Brother is convinced he's just sitting in my basement, masturbating. I decide to just stay upstairs until Corky emerges with his shop vac. I'm sure Brother was wrong, but why take my chances?
Anyway, other than the car getting fixed, I have no big plans. Maybe I will stop somewhere and buy something for myself as no one is going to do it for me. Don't feel bad. I will get exactly what I want, and I won't have to put out for it.
But I will say this: I'm not obligated to observe S&BJ Day. Which is unfortunate because my meat skillz are phenomenal.
I can cook a really good steak.
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
Celebrate Wearing of the Raincoat!
February 14-21 is National Condom Week. Because I am a professional nurse, and public health is my interest, I present to you, some handy little slogans for NCW. You know, so you are prepared to rise for the occasion.
1) Cover your stump before you hump
2) Before you attack her, wrap your whacker
3) Don't be silly, protect your Willie
4) When in doubt, shroud you spout
5) Don't be a loner, cover your boner
6) You can't go wrong, if you shield your dong
7) If your not going to sack it, go home and whack it
8) If you think she's spunky, cover your monkey
9) It will be sweeter if you wrap your peter
10) If you slip between her thighs, be sure to condomize
11) If you go into heat, package your meat
12) When you take off her pants and blouse, suit up your mouse
13) Especially in December, gift wrap your member
14) Never ever deck her, with an unwrapped pecker
15) Don't be a fool, vulcanize your tool
16) The right selection, is to protect your erection
17) Wrap it in foil, before you check her oil
18) A crank with armor, will never harm her
19) If you really love her, wear a cover
20) Don't make a mistake, cover your snake
21) Sex is cleaner with a packaged wiener
22) If you can't shield your rocket, leave it in your pocket
23) No glove, no love
24) If you think she'll sigh, cover old one eye
25) Even If she's eager, protect her beaver
26) Avoid a frown, contain your clown
27) Harness the pygmy man before entering the bearded clam
28) Constrain the little head before you stick it in the shed
29) Put a condom on your dink before you dart it in her sink
30) Cloak the joker before you poke her
31) Encase that torch before you paint her porch
32) Cape your throbber before you bob her
33) After detection sheath your erection
34) Don't surprise her, plug your Geyser
35) Protect her wrinkle before you sprinkle
36) House your noodle then release your strudel
37) Put your dog in the pound and make her yelp like a hound
38) Shelter your jerky then nab that turkey
39) Don't be a fool cover your tool
40) Stitch that switch then itch her niche
41) Wrap that tool to catch the drool
42) It ain't no jibe to protect her hive
43) Restrain your log then plow her bog
44) Cover old pete then grind her meat
45) Wrap your bate before you mate
46) Can your worm before you squirm
47) Bag the mole then do her hole
48) Cover your vein then drive her insane
49) Wrap that pickle then slip her a tickle
50) Protect your dink then fluff her mink
51) Hide ole harry then take her cherry
52) Wrap that spout then bore her out
53) Shroud your trout then make her shout
1) Cover your stump before you hump
2) Before you attack her, wrap your whacker
3) Don't be silly, protect your Willie
4) When in doubt, shroud you spout
5) Don't be a loner, cover your boner
6) You can't go wrong, if you shield your dong
7) If your not going to sack it, go home and whack it
8) If you think she's spunky, cover your monkey
9) It will be sweeter if you wrap your peter
10) If you slip between her thighs, be sure to condomize
11) If you go into heat, package your meat
12) When you take off her pants and blouse, suit up your mouse
13) Especially in December, gift wrap your member
14) Never ever deck her, with an unwrapped pecker
15) Don't be a fool, vulcanize your tool
16) The right selection, is to protect your erection
17) Wrap it in foil, before you check her oil
18) A crank with armor, will never harm her
19) If you really love her, wear a cover
20) Don't make a mistake, cover your snake
21) Sex is cleaner with a packaged wiener
22) If you can't shield your rocket, leave it in your pocket
23) No glove, no love
24) If you think she'll sigh, cover old one eye
25) Even If she's eager, protect her beaver
26) Avoid a frown, contain your clown
27) Harness the pygmy man before entering the bearded clam
28) Constrain the little head before you stick it in the shed
29) Put a condom on your dink before you dart it in her sink
30) Cloak the joker before you poke her
31) Encase that torch before you paint her porch
32) Cape your throbber before you bob her
33) After detection sheath your erection
34) Don't surprise her, plug your Geyser
35) Protect her wrinkle before you sprinkle
36) House your noodle then release your strudel
37) Put your dog in the pound and make her yelp like a hound
38) Shelter your jerky then nab that turkey
39) Don't be a fool cover your tool
40) Stitch that switch then itch her niche
41) Wrap that tool to catch the drool
42) It ain't no jibe to protect her hive
43) Restrain your log then plow her bog
44) Cover old pete then grind her meat
45) Wrap your bate before you mate
46) Can your worm before you squirm
47) Bag the mole then do her hole
48) Cover your vein then drive her insane
49) Wrap that pickle then slip her a tickle
50) Protect your dink then fluff her mink
51) Hide ole harry then take her cherry
52) Wrap that spout then bore her out
53) Shroud your trout then make her shout
Monday, December 31, 2007
2007: A Reflection
It seems like only yesterday I was looking forward to the new year of 2007. One minute it was January and I was getting settled in my new house, the next minute I'm trying to decide on what to do for New Year's Eve. That's how fast the year has gone. It seems the older I get, the faster time flies. Is it that way for everyone, or is it just me.
I've given thought to 2007. I had to look back on previous posts to be reminded of everything I did this year. I got to return to my favorite place in the whole wide world (Caribbean). I reconnected with an old friend. I gave cancer the finger. I made my house a home. I laughed. I cried. I threw up more times this year than I have in my entire lifetime. Friends made. Love lost. Like a kaleidoscope, the entire picture changed with just the slightest of turns. Sometimes it was a good thing, sometimes it wasn't.
Someone asked me what my resolutions this year were. I resolved to not make any resolutions, because they end up falling by the wayside anyway. Yeah, I plan on going to the gym more, but that's because I'm a cheap bastard and paying money for something you don't take full advantage of is just plain stupid.
I guess maybe my biggest non-resolution is to not have as many expectations. I had a lot of them for 2007, and most all of them were met with disappointment.
So, here's to 2008.
I've given thought to 2007. I had to look back on previous posts to be reminded of everything I did this year. I got to return to my favorite place in the whole wide world (Caribbean). I reconnected with an old friend. I gave cancer the finger. I made my house a home. I laughed. I cried. I threw up more times this year than I have in my entire lifetime. Friends made. Love lost. Like a kaleidoscope, the entire picture changed with just the slightest of turns. Sometimes it was a good thing, sometimes it wasn't.
Someone asked me what my resolutions this year were. I resolved to not make any resolutions, because they end up falling by the wayside anyway. Yeah, I plan on going to the gym more, but that's because I'm a cheap bastard and paying money for something you don't take full advantage of is just plain stupid.
I guess maybe my biggest non-resolution is to not have as many expectations. I had a lot of them for 2007, and most all of them were met with disappointment.
So, here's to 2008.
Thursday, December 27, 2007
New Year's Eve Plans
I ran into a friend as I was walking out of work one morning, and we got on the subject on New Year's Eve and our plans, which neither of us had. We had a nostalgic moment when we reflected on that one time we rung in the new year together.
As of now, I don't have any plans. I've been asking around for ideas, but nothing has really made my socks go up and down. Oh sure, I could do what I did last year...stay at home and wait for my mother to drunk dial me.
I don't know what I want to do, but I would like to do something that won't result with me barfing in my rock garden again. The Melting Pot was fun, but damn expensive.
What are you guys doing?
As of now, I don't have any plans. I've been asking around for ideas, but nothing has really made my socks go up and down. Oh sure, I could do what I did last year...stay at home and wait for my mother to drunk dial me.
I don't know what I want to do, but I would like to do something that won't result with me barfing in my rock garden again. The Melting Pot was fun, but damn expensive.
What are you guys doing?
Wednesday, December 26, 2007
Twas the Day After Christmas
Christmas is over. Thank God!
I worked the entire weekend, including Christmas Eve. I packaged all the Christmas confections in my house and took them to work, and they may have been the only saving grace for the weekend. My patients were assholes, but I had homemade peanut butter balls, and somehow, that made everything tolerable.
Christmas morning, I get off work and drive home. The PT has a gimpy tire, maybe two, so she shimmies when I drive her. I made an attempt over the weekend to get the car looked at, but with it being the last shopping weekend before Christmas, standard wait was two hours, and simply not doable for someone who was working the entire weekend. At one point, I had made Brother take the car out on Christmas Eve to get it fixed, but the tire place of choice was closed.
So anyway, I get home, frantically finish wrapping the rest of my gifts, and change out of my work clothes while Brother loads the car. We leave, only to turn around and return because we forgot the turkey. One turkey later, we're back on the highway, headed north to Redneck Brother's house. The PT shaking the entire way. At one point, I decide I'm too tired to drive, and let Brother take over. Instead of napping the rest of the way, I'm wide awake because Brother's driving scares me.
We arrive at Redneck Brother's house, and the unwrapping of the gifts ensue. The kids now own the entire contents of Toys R Us.
Dinner later: ham, taters, green bean casserole, etc.
Exhausted, I crawl into Nephew's bed for a nap. I think I manage to get one, too, before I awake to the most painful sound ever. A cross between someone who hasn't taken a healthy dump in three weeks, and someone who is getting their nutsack twisted off. I get up to investigate and find karaoke has been set up in the living room. I'm not talking about just some piddly little set-up you buy a Hellmart. No, this is the piddly set from Hellmart attached to a monstrous sound system. And some guy I've never seen before wailing into a microphone. The guy, turns out, is a friend of the family.
I love my Redneck Brother, but somewhere in life, someone has told him that he can sing. It wasn't me. Now, he fashions himself some sort of future country crooner, when in actuality, his singing reminds me of a manatee getting caught in a boat propeller. Redneck Brother wants to go sing at Harrah's for Lucky Break, with the rest of the retards that can't carry a tune.
Sister-In-Law gets up to sing, and everything goes from bad to worse. If Marianne Faithful gave birth to an Oompa Loompa, and that Oompa Loompa went on to have a child with Phyllis Diller and that child would go on to a singing career on cruise ships, you'd have my Sister-in-Law. Meanwhile, Mom and I are in the next room, trying not to die of laughter. It becomes increasingly difficult each time someone tries to hit a high note. When this happens, Sam starts barking...back at home in KC.
Mom and Mr. Recommendation leave. Sister-in-law is now inebriated and begins serenading Redneck Brother. I decide that I've had adequate sleep to make the drive home. I'll risk a bad tire incident before anymore of my favorite songs are further sodomized by my family.
So now it is five in the morning. I'm awake. Brother is in his room, having brought some skank over for a post-Christmas booty scratch. Apparently, with the demise of his relationship to Special Friend, Brother's response is to try to have sex with every skank who advertises their skankiness on MySpace. There's nothing quite as special as blogging about your holiday adventure with your family, while hearing coital noises coming from the room next door.
I think going deaf would be a fine alternative right now. Another hour of this, and I just might.
I worked the entire weekend, including Christmas Eve. I packaged all the Christmas confections in my house and took them to work, and they may have been the only saving grace for the weekend. My patients were assholes, but I had homemade peanut butter balls, and somehow, that made everything tolerable.
Christmas morning, I get off work and drive home. The PT has a gimpy tire, maybe two, so she shimmies when I drive her. I made an attempt over the weekend to get the car looked at, but with it being the last shopping weekend before Christmas, standard wait was two hours, and simply not doable for someone who was working the entire weekend. At one point, I had made Brother take the car out on Christmas Eve to get it fixed, but the tire place of choice was closed.
So anyway, I get home, frantically finish wrapping the rest of my gifts, and change out of my work clothes while Brother loads the car. We leave, only to turn around and return because we forgot the turkey. One turkey later, we're back on the highway, headed north to Redneck Brother's house. The PT shaking the entire way. At one point, I decide I'm too tired to drive, and let Brother take over. Instead of napping the rest of the way, I'm wide awake because Brother's driving scares me.
We arrive at Redneck Brother's house, and the unwrapping of the gifts ensue. The kids now own the entire contents of Toys R Us.
Dinner later: ham, taters, green bean casserole, etc.
Exhausted, I crawl into Nephew's bed for a nap. I think I manage to get one, too, before I awake to the most painful sound ever. A cross between someone who hasn't taken a healthy dump in three weeks, and someone who is getting their nutsack twisted off. I get up to investigate and find karaoke has been set up in the living room. I'm not talking about just some piddly little set-up you buy a Hellmart. No, this is the piddly set from Hellmart attached to a monstrous sound system. And some guy I've never seen before wailing into a microphone. The guy, turns out, is a friend of the family.
I love my Redneck Brother, but somewhere in life, someone has told him that he can sing. It wasn't me. Now, he fashions himself some sort of future country crooner, when in actuality, his singing reminds me of a manatee getting caught in a boat propeller. Redneck Brother wants to go sing at Harrah's for Lucky Break, with the rest of the retards that can't carry a tune.
Sister-In-Law gets up to sing, and everything goes from bad to worse. If Marianne Faithful gave birth to an Oompa Loompa, and that Oompa Loompa went on to have a child with Phyllis Diller and that child would go on to a singing career on cruise ships, you'd have my Sister-in-Law. Meanwhile, Mom and I are in the next room, trying not to die of laughter. It becomes increasingly difficult each time someone tries to hit a high note. When this happens, Sam starts barking...back at home in KC.
Mom and Mr. Recommendation leave. Sister-in-law is now inebriated and begins serenading Redneck Brother. I decide that I've had adequate sleep to make the drive home. I'll risk a bad tire incident before anymore of my favorite songs are further sodomized by my family.
So now it is five in the morning. I'm awake. Brother is in his room, having brought some skank over for a post-Christmas booty scratch. Apparently, with the demise of his relationship to Special Friend, Brother's response is to try to have sex with every skank who advertises their skankiness on MySpace. There's nothing quite as special as blogging about your holiday adventure with your family, while hearing coital noises coming from the room next door.
I think going deaf would be a fine alternative right now. Another hour of this, and I just might.
Tuesday, December 25, 2007
Friday, December 21, 2007
Tis The Season of the Office Christmas Party
Last year, our unit Christmas party was held at The Granfalloon. The after party activities aside, the party was a complete bust. Bosshole was most displeased that so much money was spent, and only a handful of people showed up. So, it was unofficially decided that future Christmas gatherings would be best served hosted at a personal residence.
Bosshole initially wanted to have it at his house, until he thought about having so many people in his house all at once. I had mentioned I would be willing to host it this year, and he pounced on that opportunity.
We had it Wednesday, and I spent the days preceding doing prep-work. On Monday, I cleaned the house, put up the loaner tree, and decorated it.
Mom came over Tuesday and we made delicious Christmas confections ranging from popcorn balls, peanut butter balls, truffles, and chocolate dipped pretzels. Wednesday morning, I made a hundred jello shots in various flavors. I made a batch of no-bake cookies that never set-up right (they never do for me). I had Brother bring up folding chairs from the basement. I cleaned his toilet (shudder), and ran a couple other errands. I've been so busy, there was no time for blogging about it.
Party time arrived and the early people showed, including Bosshole. He had to come early so he could go get the food. Because he's from JoCo and most JoCo people are terrified of venturing into Missouri, especially Jackson County, I went with him so he wouldn't take a wrong turn and get lost, only to get sodomized or what JoCo people fear about coming east of the state line.
This year, we had our dinner catered by Salty Iguana. Twenty-six people signed up for the party, he ordered for forty people. Needless to say, we had a shit-ton of food. So much, I had to put the leaf in the dining room table.
When we got back to my house, more people had arrived and things were starting to get warmed up. It was BYOB, so everyone brought beer. For the night, we just set everything out on the deck because it was cool enough. I think there were about 10 different kinds of beer. One nurse brought three bottles of wine, and another brought a big bottle of bubbly.
Mexican food, libations, jello shots, peanut butter balls. Everyone was merry. Bosshole even got sauced and produced a personality. At one point, he perused the contents of my refrigerator, made fun of me for keeping my pancake mix in there (keeps it fresh, bitches!!), and announced to everyone that he was really good at making bunny-shaped pancakes, and he would be willing to make us pancakes later.
Meanwhile, Sam is the big hit of the party. He had gotten a bath that morning, so he was nice, white and fluffy. The groomer even sprayed him with marshmallow scented spray, so he was somewhat pleasant smelling. Everyone wanted to cuddle with Sam, Bosshole even wanted to take him home. They all said he was such a good dog.
If they only knew... (That's Toph with Sam, by the way. He's single, ladies!)
The White Elephant gift exchange rolls around and I manage to pull a bag with a pair of handcuffs (no key), and orange jumper from the Wyandotte County Jail. Don't ask me how they came to be in our possession.
Sadly, I didn't get to keep the gift as another nurse took it. Her boyfriend had mentioned he would wear it next year for Halloween, which was funny because I was planning on making Mom wear it next year for Halloween.
I'm not sad about losing the cuffs, I already have a pair of my own. Mine are much nicer.
After the gift exchange, the crowd (roughly 30 or so) finish off the jello shots, the champagne, the wine, and most the beer. Someone decides it would be fun to go to The Levee. I manage to catch a ride with someone and a small group of us go there to see if we can kill off the rest of our livers. We close the place down and I am taken back to my house. Before I make it to my front door, I toss my cookies right there in the driveway. Mexican food, jello shots, and God knows what else, all over my little rock garden by the stairs.
The following day, my stomach makes certain it is completely empty, all day long. This includes water and bile. It sucks to be that sick. I'm never, ever doing that again. Detox must suck for alcoholics, and a hangover is just a taste of what they go through. Just thinking about it is making me queasy right now. However, I did try to drunk text some people, but didn't do it right. I'm going to have to have The D give me some pointers on that.
For the most part, the house has been put back together. I have three big bags of garbage, and a blue bin full of empty glass bottles in varying shapes and sizes. Now, I just need to get ready for Christmas. I have most the gifts bought, the rest are just going to be gift cards and money.
And maybe leftover beer.
Bosshole initially wanted to have it at his house, until he thought about having so many people in his house all at once. I had mentioned I would be willing to host it this year, and he pounced on that opportunity.
We had it Wednesday, and I spent the days preceding doing prep-work. On Monday, I cleaned the house, put up the loaner tree, and decorated it.
Mom came over Tuesday and we made delicious Christmas confections ranging from popcorn balls, peanut butter balls, truffles, and chocolate dipped pretzels. Wednesday morning, I made a hundred jello shots in various flavors. I made a batch of no-bake cookies that never set-up right (they never do for me). I had Brother bring up folding chairs from the basement. I cleaned his toilet (shudder), and ran a couple other errands. I've been so busy, there was no time for blogging about it.Party time arrived and the early people showed, including Bosshole. He had to come early so he could go get the food. Because he's from JoCo and most JoCo people are terrified of venturing into Missouri, especially Jackson County, I went with him so he wouldn't take a wrong turn and get lost, only to get sodomized or what JoCo people fear about coming east of the state line.
This year, we had our dinner catered by Salty Iguana. Twenty-six people signed up for the party, he ordered for forty people. Needless to say, we had a shit-ton of food. So much, I had to put the leaf in the dining room table.
When we got back to my house, more people had arrived and things were starting to get warmed up. It was BYOB, so everyone brought beer. For the night, we just set everything out on the deck because it was cool enough. I think there were about 10 different kinds of beer. One nurse brought three bottles of wine, and another brought a big bottle of bubbly.
Mexican food, libations, jello shots, peanut butter balls. Everyone was merry. Bosshole even got sauced and produced a personality. At one point, he perused the contents of my refrigerator, made fun of me for keeping my pancake mix in there (keeps it fresh, bitches!!), and announced to everyone that he was really good at making bunny-shaped pancakes, and he would be willing to make us pancakes later.
Meanwhile, Sam is the big hit of the party. He had gotten a bath that morning, so he was nice, white and fluffy. The groomer even sprayed him with marshmallow scented spray, so he was somewhat pleasant smelling. Everyone wanted to cuddle with Sam, Bosshole even wanted to take him home. They all said he was such a good dog.
If they only knew... (That's Toph with Sam, by the way. He's single, ladies!)The White Elephant gift exchange rolls around and I manage to pull a bag with a pair of handcuffs (no key), and orange jumper from the Wyandotte County Jail. Don't ask me how they came to be in our possession.
Sadly, I didn't get to keep the gift as another nurse took it. Her boyfriend had mentioned he would wear it next year for Halloween, which was funny because I was planning on making Mom wear it next year for Halloween.I'm not sad about losing the cuffs, I already have a pair of my own. Mine are much nicer.
After the gift exchange, the crowd (roughly 30 or so) finish off the jello shots, the champagne, the wine, and most the beer. Someone decides it would be fun to go to The Levee. I manage to catch a ride with someone and a small group of us go there to see if we can kill off the rest of our livers. We close the place down and I am taken back to my house. Before I make it to my front door, I toss my cookies right there in the driveway. Mexican food, jello shots, and God knows what else, all over my little rock garden by the stairs.
The following day, my stomach makes certain it is completely empty, all day long. This includes water and bile. It sucks to be that sick. I'm never, ever doing that again. Detox must suck for alcoholics, and a hangover is just a taste of what they go through. Just thinking about it is making me queasy right now. However, I did try to drunk text some people, but didn't do it right. I'm going to have to have The D give me some pointers on that.
For the most part, the house has been put back together. I have three big bags of garbage, and a blue bin full of empty glass bottles in varying shapes and sizes. Now, I just need to get ready for Christmas. I have most the gifts bought, the rest are just going to be gift cards and money.
And maybe leftover beer.
Thursday, November 22, 2007
Around the Dinner Table
First off, I have to give hats off to X-Man for selling me his dining room table. Without such a gesture, this day might not have been possible.
If there is one universal truth in my family, every word, no matter how innocent, can be construed to be something naughty. Dinner begins and Brother makes his little remarks, Mom joins in...all innocent words with hidden meaning. Then, Special Friend blurts out that Brother needs to start drinking more pineapple juice.
Brother, on the other hand, has now disappeared, probably over to Special Friend's house for a sleepover.
I hope he remembered to stop by the store and pick up some pineapple juice.
Mom arrived first this morning, and we immediately set to cooking. I had gotten up around 5am to put the turkey in. However, my oven has the power of a small nuclear reactor and the turkey was done in 3 hours. It just had to chill out in the over on warm until dinner time...which was 1pm.
So, there was the turkey stuffed with stuffing. We made the obligatory green been casserole, candied yams, mashed potatoes and gravy, buttered corn, deviled eggs, rolls, fruited jello (we are Mormons, after all), and various pies.
Brother invites his Special Friend for dinner. There's also me, Mom, Mr. Recommendation, and his little girl who spent the better part of the afternoon tormenting the cat.
If there is one universal truth in my family, every word, no matter how innocent, can be construed to be something naughty. Dinner begins and Brother makes his little remarks, Mom joins in...all innocent words with hidden meaning. Then, Special Friend blurts out that Brother needs to start drinking more pineapple juice.
I went deaf shortly after that.
Aside from the TMI, dinner went well. I actually managed to stay awake long enough to package all the leftovers (lots of turkey!), load the dishwasher, and have the table and island cleaned off. Then, I fell into bed for a 3-hour nap.
For my first Thanksgiving dinner...big success!!
I had considered going to the Plaza Lighting Ceremony, but then I thought about how I've never been to the Plaza Lighting Ceremony. So why break with tradition? The excess crowds would only piss me off.
I hope he remembered to stop by the store and pick up some pineapple juice.
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