Wordless Wednesday: Time to Take the Keys

Last Friday, I took my daughter to the econo hour theater. Get this: a first run movie for $4.00 plus popcorn and soft drink for $1.00! On the way to the movie, we stopped by my husbands office. Suddenly, a deafening pop riddled the air and two frantic females ran circles while screaming, "Oh, my God! Oh, my God!"

I thought for sure someone had been shot from the sound, yelping, and white smoke rising in the air. But no. An old man backed up.

Apparently, the two women pulled into a parking lot to switch cars. They got out and watched this man crash into their cars and one other. Time to take away the keys, before a person rather than just a car gets injured.

P.S. We loved The Lucky One starring Zach Effron.

Writer's Post: Stirring The Pot

This weeks Writer's Post topic is "Stirring the Pot." Here is my take on the matter.

Have you ever been cooking when suddenly you have to run to the bathroom? You tell your husband or kids to stir the pot, but do they? Noooo. By the time you're no longer indisposed, the soup has either boiled onto the stove or is crusted on the bottom. When this happens the results are two fold. If you're lucky, you're eating burnt food and scraping the bottom of the pan for an hour or so. But if you're unlucky, three firetrucks come tearing down the street with their sirens screaming and the neighbors peeking out their windows. 

So why is it people never listen to Mom and stir the pot? It's a national tragedy! In fact, I'll bet if you counted the number of times firetrucks–What? What's that you say? Figurative meaning, not literal meaning? 

B*tch!

Uncontainable Love - My Dog's Escapades

Swizzle Inn / Swazzle Out - Bermuda Fun

Twenty-six years ago this month, my husband and I honeymooned in Bermuda, where we ordered drinks and dinner at The Swizzle Inn. With the typical sunny skies, a fabulous island breeze, and mild temperatures, we sat outside under that green awning in the picture above. The 'Swizzle Inn' sign dangled from a chain straight ahead of me while I sipped a tasty golden-colored Bermuda rum swizzle.

Our dinner conversation bubbled with the excitement of the golden retriever puppy we'd be meeting as soon as we returned home to Memphis. But most of all, we puzzled over what to name him. It took a flash of inspiration to glance at the sign and know that Swizzle would soon become our first born son.

Puppy Love

We first met Swizzle at our mayor's son's home after answering an ad in the newspaper. We hopped into the red Jeep and drove the short distance to have the ultimate dog picking experience. Experienced dog owners know to choose the precious fur ball who's asleep in the corner. However, while in our young twenties, we never got that memo. The dog owners led us outside to where the litter had been kept. In fact, they stayed outside so much, that going to the bathroom in the grass was all they knew. Instantly house broken! Of course with smart dogs like golden retrievers, the house breaking routine is never too difficult.


As the litter of golden delights romped through the yard with enough energy to power a house if we could only learn to harness it, we checked them out.

Swizzle & Me - 1986

Each fluffy baby radiated with young life and breathed tuna fish scented breath as they darted by. With so much cuteness in one yard, it was tough knowing which puppy to choose. As a result, I did what any young crazy person would do. I plopped onto the ground and waited a nano second to see who'd stop by to meet me. Big mistake! Within moments, I was covered in wet kisses and muddy paw prints all down my red-collared shirt. Never had I felt so loved as I did sitting Indian style on the patio of the dog owners back yard.

Swizzle & Erica

Although all the babies were cute–what golden pup isn't?–Swizzle was the energetic little guy who consistently made it to the center of my lap and close to my heart. He'd hop over all his brothers and sisters to make sure I noticed his presence and make him our very own.

We took the pup home, nurtured him with plenty of love, and watched him grow into a handsome stud dog.

Memories of Swizzle

After twelve years of joy, we lost our beloved Swizzle, but his memory lives on forever. We've even nailed his dog charm to his favorite spot by the stairwell.

Swizzle's photograph was hung in The Swizzle Inn in Bermuda along with many other photographs from fans of the restaurant. Hopefully, it's still there.

This post written in partnership with Dog Fence DIY and their team of dog containment system specialists. The DIY team seeks to engage dog owners and promote positive and safe dog safety practices. Please visit our sponsor at http://www.dogfencediy.com

Wordless Wednesday: Blink

Ruby

Only my dog has constant issues with blinking while pictures are being taken. ~Daniel 

#GBE2 : Parody

This week's GBE2 topic is "Parody," which is hard since my favorite movies are those that make fun of serious ones. So I figure I'll have to take a serious topic in my life and get a laugh out of it. Why should this post be different than any others?

My gynecologist and I are working to make fun summer plans. See I've got this growth in my uh-hm that's the size of a red, ripe, juicy strawberry--although it's shaped more like Charlie Brown's head than Stewie Griffin's.

Charlie Brown

Stewie Griffin

This little bugger bear not only makes my stomach protrude like a pregnant woman's, but it has also caused a bloody bad time along with tummy aches. However, my hormones indicate I'm still well within my baby making years.

"NOOOO!" I don't wanna go birthin' no babies. So, I've decided to kiss my female parts goodbye and undergo a hysterectomy.

Now if they take away my female parts, am I still a female? I don't anticipate growing chest hair and swinging on vines, since the male parts won't be there either. Maybe I should change my name to Pat. 

As an adrogynous person, I wouldn't have to wear dresses or paint my toe nails--not that I do anyway. I wouldn't have to style my hair nor wear make up. But most importantly, I'll surely lose ten pounds when they take this organ out? See I carried three babies in it, with the heaviest kid being over eight pounds, plus the placenta. A flimsy little organ could never carry that much baby weight, could it? Maybe getting rid of these used auto parts isn't such a bad idea after all. However, why is it called a HYSterectomy? Shouldn't it be a HERsterectomy?

Until next time,

Pat

Silly Sunday: History Lesson

The History of the Middle Finger 

English Archers

  Before the Battle of Agincourt in 1415, the French, anticipating victory over the English, proposed to cut off the middle finger of all captured English soldiers. Without the middle finger it would be impossible to draw the renowned English longbow and therefore they would be incapable of fighting in the future. This famous English longbow was made of the native English Yew tree, and the act of drawing the longbow was known as 'plucking the yew' (or 'pluck yew'). 

 
Much to the bewilderment of the French, the English won a major upset and began mocking the French by waving their middle fingers at the defeated French, saying, See, we can still pluck yew!  Since 'pluck yew' is rather difficult to say, the difficult consonant cluster at the beginning has gradually changed to a labiodentals fricative F', and thus the words often used in conjunction with the one-finger-salute!  It is also because of the pheasant feathers on the arrows used with the longbow that the symbolic gesture is known as 'giving the bird.' 

And yew thought yew knew every plucking thing!

Here are some interesting tweets on the topic. I'll behave myself and not correct the grammar or spelling.

  The Omg Funny King ‏ @OmgComedy

When i was 5, sticking my tongue out was like giving someone the middle finger.

SensualQuotes♥ ‏ @SensualQuotes

When i'm mad at you, I text you with my middle finger.

  Bam ol' Lady❤ ‏ @RedCake_

My middle finger has too much energy, its been up allllllll day !

Will Ferrel Parody ‏ @FillWerrell

Keep your head up high & your middle finger higher.

  Very Rude Tweets™ ‏ @VeryRudeTweets

My wife came in complaining that I never lift a finger around the house. So I did. The middle one.

Dirty Ape ‏ @IngloriousMovz

My middle finger is my power point presentation.

 

  Tootjuh A.K.A Louie ‏ @Tootjuh

Sometimes I gotta let my middle finger do the talking for me!!!"

#GBE2: Stranger

From Bush 41
 parachuting?

This week's GBE2 topic Stranger made me think of our local newspaper.  

The Commercial Appeal posts many strange stories, like the  article about Bush Senior parachuting out of an airplane on his eightieth birthday. Next to the article was a photo similar to the one above with the headline: The Aftermath! Apparently that wasn't stranger than other photos because Jay Leno never used it for headline news. So, in order to find something stranger, I searched the internet for bizarre news stories. Are they any "stranger" than what I found in the Commercial Appeal?

Man robs a Dollar General and post pictures on Facebook with his loot. Or maybe the story about a hiker who was attacked by a lion and was then saved by a bear that loosened its grip. I read another story about a man who lived with a bullet in his head for ninety-five years. Hmm. All these weird stories involve the male gender.

So tell me, did I successfully cover the GBE2 topic of "Stranger?" Oh, stranger. You meant someone I don't know! 

:p

Wordless Wednesday: Why?

Why do women have two hands?

Why do men have two hands?

Any questions?

#AtoZ : Young Life

A sparrow built her nest in our garage and flew back and forth, even though our door remained closed throughout the day. We figured it was just a vacation home and didn't mind her mild, rent-free intrusion. However, we soon found five or so babies flying around dropping white poo balls on our cars, floor, and throughout our garage. I decided it was time for them to go, so I made loud noises, waved signs at them and shooed them away before closing the garage. This wouldn't have been so bad had a huge bird of prey not snatched a baby in its clutches. *Gulp*

No helmet–No ride

My husband and I decided to let the little poopers stay until they were big enough to protect themselves. Too late. We haven't seen feathers or poop for days. :(

Have you heard of Where's Waldo. Look below for a game of Where's the Birdie? It's in the photo.

#AtoZ : X - Stolen Innocence

B and I were in sixth grade and headed to the playground. On the way down the sidewalk, a man sitting on a stump asked for directions to Wilson School. Harmless enough.

Hot dogs

Next, the man mentioned how it was hot outside and wanted to know if we'd ever seen a man "do this" before. He unzipped his pants and pulled out something that looked like the end of a thick, uncooked hot dog without the ketchup, mustard, or even a bun.

While my friend stood gaping, I took off running. So, if a man ever asks me that question again, I will say, "Yes."

I bet you'll never look at hot dogs the same way again.

#AtoZ : The Wabbit from Warner Brothers

For W, I came close to writing a post about our former president because there is plenty of humor surrounding him; however, I chose not to upset half my reading population with my politics. So, here's a post about someone more intelligent: The Warner Brother's Wabbit.

Who does not know and love that wascally wabbit Bugs Bunny? Although I've always been one who likes to sleep in, Bugs was worth getting up early for on a Saturday morning. Not only do I love his cleverness in escaping Elmer Fudd, but his Bronx accent is the best! They just don't make cartoons like Bugs Bunny anymore. Just think of the greatness America could have achieved, or the horrors we could have avoided, if W was as smart as Bugs Bunny!

Enjoy.

If you haven't had enough, here's another good one–short too.

#AtoZ : Vacant

#AtoZ Meets #WW : wake Up!

U know sometimes U have to push it to write about a letter, but I've done worse. Here's to U.

Wake Up!

#AtoZ : Tattoos

My daughter and her friend got temporary tattoos.

I am thankful for two things: 

(1) My daughter Erica is the girl on the right–no offense Lisa, but you look freaky.

(2) These are TEMPORARY tattoos.

Although I've never had a real tattoo, I have decorated my body with some made from henna. These will last most people two weeks or so. Mine are usually shorter because after a week, I scrub my skin raw to make them fade.

Here's a collection of weird ones I copied from the internet. This would have made a good Wordless Wednesday post–darn it–but with the multitude of pictures, I can always hold out for "Tattoo Two" one day.

If I were bald, I would so have to do this. Teehee.

Prison Gang Tattoo

Kimberly requested three stars on her face then fell asleep and woke up to this.

Yeah. It's pretty bad miscommunication, but would you lend your face to the tatoo artist below? Duh!

#AtoZ : Shots

Last week, a fifth grader headed into class late. I asked him where he'd been, to which he said, "I got eleven-year-old shots."

I said, "Why'd you get such old shots?"

He said, "Huh?"

"Why'd they give you eleven-year-old shots? Why didn't they give you fresh medicine? Don't the drugs expire after eleven years?"

He caught on and had a good laugh, so I asked him if he cried when he got his old shots? He laughed again. Boys don't cry over shots, do they? I wish I could have been as brave when I was a child.

As a youngster–four, five, or maybe sixteen–I don't remember, the doctor told me I was going to get a shot. Naturally, I did what any chicken would do, I took off running out the door in my underwear. I had a string of nurses and various other folks chasing me through the halls. Finally, they caught me. Yes, kiddies, there's no escaping the shot once the doctor orders it.

Also, as a child, I once told the doctor he was nasty. What did he expect? The man asked me to take off my clothes. But that has nothing to do with those shots that were never worth the sucker.

When it comes to shots, there's only one kind I like.

White Russian: shot vodka, shot kahlua, and milk