"Don't quit your day job."

Monday, August 15, 2005

10 Things That Might Get You Kicked Out Of Wally-World



1. Impersonating a Greeter.


2. Throwing a huge fit at the Customer Service Desk because they won't give you a refund on the Pepperoni Hot Pocket you ate for lunch which gave you heartburn - even though you have the receipt.


3. Drag racing down the main isle with those little scooter carts.


4. Making a rubber tree in the condom isle.


5. "Test driving" a barbecue grill - even if you bring your own steaks.


6. Bringing in your cat to see which kind of litter he likes best.


7. Getting on the intercom system and announcing that there is a Blue Light Special on all Granny Panties.


8. Shooting arrows at all of the sale signs or lowering the price with a Sharpe while wearing a happy face mask.


9. Holding your family reunion in the Home and Garden Department.


10. Walking out the dressing room and asking the attendant if your ass looks fat in a thong.




The above is pure speculation, and is not based on personal experience - especially # 10 as I already know the answer to that question. The inspiration for the above came from watching two cops carry out a women kicking and screaming last night out of my local Wally-World. I guess I pondered a little too long as to why. Living in a small town, however, I'm sure it will be on the front page of the paper tomorrow.




Friday, August 12, 2005

Got Mud?


It has been pouring rain here since yesterday evening. It might not be noteworthy to some, but around here it's been a while since we've had more than a sprinkle. So understandably, I couldn't resist splash'n the puddles this morning - with my Mom's SUV. They were more like small lakes, really. I had thought about taking my car as it hydroplanes so nicely - it's a lot of fun. But since my parents will be back tonight, I thought I should take full advantage of the perks of taking care of their house, yard (which is HUGE), cat and two horses. Oh, and also their neighbor's place for a weekend (on occasion, I'm a bit of a push-over).

I miss my SUV (except when I fuel up), many times I have kicked myself for trading it in for the car. I mean, my car does have some fun features. For example: the sleek sporty look, and the sweet little 4 cylinder, twin cam that can take you for a surprisingly hair-raising ride. Of course, neither of these features are lost on my insurance company - or the state patrol.

However, I get a little misty-eyed when I see a SUV, jeep or truck completely covered with mud. Or when I pass a muddy field just begging to be tore up. Or when I purchase "assembly required" furniture that comes in a big, 300 lb box, and the certified team-lifting, cart driving professional looks at me after seeing which vehicle is mine and says, "Are you crazy lady?"

**WARNING: beginning of rant**
Those guys have no sense of humor, at least not the ones I've met. And maybe I would not have been such a smart ass, if he hadn't given me a lecture on the importance of team-lifting before he called for "back-up" on his walkie. As a veteran of Retail, I understand the mental and physical stress the job can have, and am sympathetic when I realize a cashier is having a bad day, or it's their first day and they've rang up 1,111 boxes of tampons when I wanted 1 box. Or when you ask a stocker coming off the night shift where something is, and they look at you like you just demanded the for cure for cancer. However, wasting my time by being an idiot, is a different story.

So after Mr. I'm-so-cool-cuz-I-have-a-back-support, finished reciting a good portion of the safety & hazards manual, (I'm glad he skipped over "What to do when a "guest" pukes in the isle" section) I asked if a person needed an associate or a bachelor's degree to be a certified team-lifter. Or, if it was difficult to break into the field (yes, I really did ask). Needless to say, my sarcasm was lost on him. This happens to me a lot, though... In all fairness, I should provide the fact that he caught me starting to place the item on the sacred, employee only, flatbed cart.

However, when I innocently replied to his question of whether or not I should be on meds for my sanity challenged mind (jury is still out on that one) with, "You'd be surprised what you can fit in my trunk" THEN he laughed. Pervert. The truth is, after folding down the back seats, you can put a lot of crap in there (my car - sicko).

And I happen to know the dimensions of the "cargo space" (almost most peed my pants laughing after reading that, and the "towing capacity" in the owner's manual) of my car. This knowledge - of the cargo space, not the towing capacity - is helpful in determining if I need to bribe one of my truck-owning friends. Usually, this is a simple task that requires purchasing beer or food, or both depending on the item needing to be hauled, and team-carried into my house.

Well, it seems the sun has come out. Bye-bye puddles. Oh well... But wait - that field will still be nice a gooey at lunch - just kidding Mom! Sorta...

**Note: the Willys Jeep in the pic belongs to a guy named Chris Olsen. I came upon his site while doing a "What I would buy if I won the lottery" search. Check it out at: http://www.bc4x4.com/tech/fv/2000/colson/colson.asp

Thursday, August 11, 2005

Small Town Girl

I can't sleep. Have tried watching that home shopping show - that usually works. But tonight they had this really cool handy-dandy, all in one thingambob that I had to have. So I spent the last two hours thawing out my credit card and by then they had sold out. Bastards.

So I decided to jump online and came across an article about 10 things a single girl should have. I was a little disappointed cuz, as a single girl, I found it lame and that it pertained mostly toward the urban girl. It did meet my expectations, however, in that it gave me something to be a smart ass about. So, I've decided to write a list for the small town girl, mainly to amuse myself...


10 Things a Small Town Single Girl Should Possess

1. A family tree of all the single men in your town, as it's quite possible you're related to a few without knowing it.

2. Ability to successfully maneuver a big-ass pick-up truck hauling a bumper-pull trailer thru "traffic" at the county fair, and find a place to park (doesn't need to be a legal spot), while not spilling your beer.*

3. Being able to debate effectively and intelligently over which is better - Coors Light or Bud Light.

4. A helluva right (or left) hook. This can come in handy for a number of reasons, but specifically when shopping. As selection is limited, and re-stocking can take months - it may be helpful when you and another shopper are eying the last item. However, the following items are exempt: beer, chewing tobacco, cigarettes and ammo - cuz in the unlikely event there was to be a shortage - take cover. Buying in bulk is your best bet, anyway.

5. An updated event calendar from the Bowling Alley - so you can keep up on social events.

6. One timeless cocktail dress - chances are you'll never need one - but if so, you won't have to worry about looking dated as it could be years in between occasions.

7. Ability to change a flat tire for two reasons: One - if you're on a county road it could be days before someone drives by (unless, of course, your parked and your windows are fogged up...**). Two - cell towers are far and few between so forget about calling anyone if you don't have a "bag" phone (a big honk'n thing that actually requires a carry case with a strap) as a back up.

8. Ability to siphon gas from either a tractor, ATV, or your neighbor's vehicle. This really comes in handy when it's 6:05 PM and your on E and all the gas stations are closed.

9. A good disguise and the ability to start a whopper of a rumor about someone else to take the heat off you the morning after having a really good time at the Bowing Alley - if need be...

10. Even though, most likely you'll know his sexual history and even perhaps details from standing in line at the grocery store - a reasonable supply of condoms. Buying this item in bulk might not be a good idea.

* This statement is not meant in any way to promote drinking and driving - seriously.
** Knowledge of this was not obtained through personal experience - I swear mom!


I feel, perhaps I should explain that I grew up in small towns. The smallest had a population of 25 - people that is. I have also lived for a number of years in the big city (pop 2.58 million) - but recently moved back to the area where most of my family lives. For the most part the change has been good - though sometimes I wonder what the hell I was thinking. Scary thing is, the town I live in is the biggest one for a couple hundred miles in either direction - at least. To give you an idea just how scary that is - there is only one Taco Bell in town. But I guess, at least there is one. Also, not only to most places still accept checks - few ask for an ID. Unless you are from out of state - then it's cash only (being from out of state around here is like an American in France). Oh, and if you realize you've left your wallet at home after fueling up - they actually let you go home and get! This I know from personal experience. I thought for sure they'd call the cops or worse - make me clean the bathrooms. So, anyway, there are some good things about living in a small town.

Well, I think that half bottle of Jack is kicking in - so good night or actually morning.

Wednesday, August 10, 2005

History Lessons


Inspired by the first comment left on my site, I decided to share a passion of mine. First, I'd like to sincerely thank the person who left the comment. It made my day to see someone actually read my babble! You can read her blog at: http://www.thingsthatmakeyougoblah.blogspot.com

When I was about 5, my dad took me up in a single engine plane and ever since I've wanted to learn to fly. It was probably his 3rd or 5th solo fight - and my first time flying.

When I was about 7, my Grandpa gave me a F4U-1A Corsair model airplane kit, which is similar to the one Major Gregory "Pappy" Boyington flew. He led one of the most famous fighter squadrons of WWII, nicknamed the "Black Sheep". We'd watch the TV show together, much to my Grandmother's dismay. I loved that show, and loved to listen to him talk about the different types of planes used in the war. My Grandpa was dying of cancer at this time, and had been in and out of VA hospitals where he took up model building to past the time. I still have that Corsair model - it's still in the box. He passed away before we could put it together.

A few years ago, I visited the Evergreen Aviation Museum and first learned about the WASP or Women Airforce Service Pilots of WWII. They were considered civilians, yet they were trained to fly a variety of military aircraft - including experimental planes to show the men they were safe. And as civilians they did not get any military recognition - not even those who gave their lives. As the war ended, so did the program in 1944. It wasn't until 1994, when Lt. Jeannie Flynn completed training on F-15E and became first Air Force woman combat pilot.

As you might of guessed, besides airplanes I like history stuff. If questioned, I'd deny this fact - and if asked to study history in a classroom setting with tests I'd decline. In fact, it was in my world history class in high school that I learned the subtle art of passing notes - without getting caught. Not to mention, discovering my talent for doodling - a skill I still practice today. Oh, and least I forget the art of looking like your doing what your supposed to be doing - while doing something entirely different. This is a skill I use every day. Yes, the public school system should be proud...

* The photo I found at: http://www.radiodiaries.org/wasps.html. It is of Libby Gardner, WASP. One of the reasons I liked it was that a beautiful woman was at the controls of the plane instead of a figure painted on the outside.

Tuesday, August 09, 2005

Home and Garden



It has been several years since I owned a house and I'm loving it. Except for the mowing, weeding and watering part of it. I sorta miss the old weird guy that would wake me up at 8 AM on a Sunday with his diesel lawn mower (OK, it sounded like it was) at my apartment complex.

I went home for lunch and almost drove past my house - it looked like it was abandoned. Well, alright it didn't look THAT bad - just like the beginning of a small jungle. I can't believe what neglecting it for a week does... My parents would be horrified (good thing they are out of town). Their lawn is perfect. I mean flawless. No weeds, brown spots - just thick luscious grass. My dad mows every other day, each time in a different direction. I'd do that too, except I can never remember which way I went last time - cuz I can't remember the last time I mowed...

So anyway, I was out front today watering the flowers (at least I think they were flowers), and my weird neighbor comes over. He's nice, just, well a little off. We've never had a full conversation, not even the weather chat. Mainly, I see him on his deck smoking a cigarette as I'm coming and going. He'll wave, and I'll wave back. So why, do you ask, is he weird? Well, things like staring at a tree for hours, laying in the middle of his backyard (which makes mine look I employ a professional yard guy - hey wait - not a bad idea... I could hire a really hot college dude- umm sorry, where was I - oh, weird neighbor guy) laughing at clouds (at least that's my best guess), and well - let's just say he doesn't hide the fact that he routinely partakes in cyber sex.

Now I realize, that to some people this stuff may not seem weird. In fact, he's an Average Joe compared to previous neighbors. It's just, that feeling you get in your gut, that something's just not right - ya know? Like when the cops show up at your door asking if you'd seen your neighbor lately - and you almost blurt out "Now that I think about it, he's been gone for a few days - I actually slept thru the night without hearing "Yeah, baby that's it - ah, damn lost the connection again!

Well, my gut feeling was confirmed today. He came over and stood there for a minute, watching me water the weeds - I mean flowers. I was really hoping his computer wasn't down. "Hey." I said with my best friendly neighbor, mind my own business and would never rat you out the cops smile. "Hey." he replied, still staring at the hose. "Water'n your flowers, huh?" he said with a perfect Floyd impression(from the movie True Romance). "Uh, yep I am - well, I think most of them are weeds, though." His eyes lit up. "Yeah, really? I like weed - it's my friend." He said with Beevis-like laughter - or was it more like Butthead? Anyway, I decided to cut the conversation short before he started smoking my flower garden.

If I mentioned this to my mom - she'd be worried. Not me, though. I think is better to have openly weird neighbors, instead of normal, quiet ones. Cuz, whenever the neighbors of a serial killer are interviewed, they always say - "He seemed so normal, we never heard a peep out of him."

Monday, August 08, 2005

The big picture...

The weekend came and went. Didn't get anything accomplished, really. Did go school shopping as my EMT-B class starts in two weeks. Excited yet, a little scared. OK, a lot scared. Still waiting for my college transcript. You'd think after dropping several thousand dollars, they'd at least be nicer on the phone.

Anyway, lots has changed in school supplies since I last attended. I needed a new backpack as I finally retired mine (had it for over ten years), and was a little confused as to which one to get.

Seeing my frustration, a ten year old boy "schooled" me in the hi-tech subject of backpacks. "You see, many kids make the mistake of getting one too big." he said pointing to one that looked like you'd take it on a five day hiking trip. "But get one to small, and that would be bad. Also, you want one that has a good shoulder pads and is balanced." He pointed to one that was kidney shaped with one strap on it. "That's a good one, it's even got a detachable cell phone holder. How old is your kid?" He asked, staring up at me. "Well, it's for me - I'm going back to school." I said, awkwardly.

Tilting his head to the side, he asked "Why?" as if maybe I didn't pay attention the first time around and they were sending me back. "To become an EMT, and then eventually a Paramedic." He thought a minute, and said - "Oh, one of those guys who drive the ambulance." Great, I thought, already I'm a bambulance driver... Then the kid blew me away. "You'll make a good one - you look nice. When my grandpa stopped breathing the ambulance came - I called 911. They were nice. They got him breathing again, but he died at the hospital a few days later." Not sure how to respond, I said "I am really sorry to hear that." "Thanks,"he said looking at his shoes "he's in a better place. Did you always want to be an ambulance driver? I'm not sure what I want to be." I really wanted to hug the kid, but figured someone would think I was trying to kidnap him, and I began to wonder where his parents were. "Well, I guess I did. I really liked my physiology and science classes in high school. What classes do you like?" "Uh, P.E., and Lunch." He said with a big grin. "I see, well, ya might want to think about something in sales." I said, picking up the kidney shaped backpack.

I've been house sitting at my parents as they are visiting my brother and his wife who just welcomed my nephew into the world. Usually, staying at my parents is like a vacation. It's a great house - HUGE TV with surround sound, a jetted tub you could swim in and central air. But now that I own a home again (well, the bank does), I'd rather be there. Even though the tub was made for an Oompa-Loompa, and central air consists of a fan in the middle of whatever room I'm in. Weird huh? I do get better channels, however, as I have Dish and they have cable. So, needless to say, I was bored out of my skull with no housework or weekend projects to do.

I did happen upon a show called Rescue Warriors. It's about Air Force guys training to jump out of planes in the middle of combat and treat wounded. In one exercise, they were treating mock patients (real people) in a mud pit - trying to start an IV while the instructor is hosing them (the medic and the patient) down with icy water and yelling. Not only do these guys have to learn to be medics, but they have to learn to jump out of a plane over water - at low altitude - precisely land near "the package", which is a motor boat in a cube. And THEN, go into a combat zone and treat numerous patients all while trying to not get injured or killed themselves. Man, learning to be a bambulance driver might not be so bad. One thing that I learned that could be applicable is not to get tunnel vision - to always get the big picture.

Tuesday, August 02, 2005

Honey, the neighbor is mowing his lawn naked again...

Came across this while I was "working" on a report... It some how makes me appreciate my weird neighbor...


08/02 3:19p CDT Ill. Nudist to Be Buried Fully Clothed

PEKIN, Illinois (AP) _ Even in death, Robert Norton's nakednessis a no-no. Norton, 82, spent four decades in and out of courtfighting repeated arrests for gardening and wandering his yard in the nude. He said he wanted to be buried without any clothes, but his family is sending him to eternity wearing gray slacks and a matching shirt. ``He's not going to be buried in the nude,'' said his brother,Jack Norton, a minister. Robert Norton's family said they hope to lay the years ofcontroversy to rest Thursday when the World War II veteran is buried. Norton, who died Monday, had fought 20 indecency arrests since 1962, arguing that he had a constitutional right to public nakedness. Relatives say Norton suffered emotional problems after serving in the Army Air Forces during World War II. Prosecutors counter that he was just stubborn. ``He was a naturist, and he just chose to be in the nude as people who are seeking nature. He was a peace-loving person,'' said his brother, Duane Norton. Brenda Loete, who lived next door to Norton for a dozen yearsbefore he moved into a nursing home, said she never spoke to herexhibitionist neighbor. ``We didn't really know him. We just had him arrested,'' Loete said. ``Normally, if we had him arrested in the spring he'd be gonefor the summer and we wouldn't have to worry about him until the next spring.''


I hit the snooze at least 6 times this morning. Normally, it's about 4. (The clock is set 40 minutes fast to allow this). I had 12 minutes to get ready before I needed to leave for work. I'm really impressed my shoes match and my shirt is not on backwards. (It's happened before...) And what's more impressive is that I arrived 2 minutes early, which irritate me a little cuz I could of slept 2 minutes more.

In case you haven't figured it out - I am not a morning person. I am most alert around 9 PM. I don't get up 2 hours before I have to leave in order to read the paper front to back while drinking a cup of coffee (rarely touch the stuff). I prefer the challenge of sleeping till the last possible moment. I do prepare the night before, however, by taking a shower and laying out clothes. (spilt personality - lazy and anal retentive) Amazingly enough, I've only been late to this job once - 3 minutes.

Due to the fact I rarely get to bed before midnight, and have to be at work before the butt-crack of dawn, I don't get the recommended 8 hours of sleep. This, I feel attributes to blonde moments. Case in point: Yesterday my boss brought in cucumbers from his garden, and gave me a couple. I put them in my purse, not wanting to forget to take them home. I just started carrying a purse again. Normally I just have a wallet, but after almost washing my new itty-bitty cell phone with my jeans, I dug out the purse. Anyway, the biggest reason I hate purses is that they fill up with crap no matter how small they are.

So yesterday, after registering for my EMT classes (it's officially - I'm a student again!), I was digging for my car keys - starting to panic. Are they in the ignition? No... I don't remember having them inside... Damn! I proceed to empty the contents of my purse on the hood of my car (I hate when women do this). I finally find the keys, and as I'm throwing the stuff back in my bag I notice a campus security guard snickering at me. I'm thinking what an idiot, doesn't he have better things to do? But then I realize he doesn't - he's a security guard...

It's wasn't until I threw the 2, rather large cucumbers in my bag, when it hit me - why he was cracking up. As I got in my car, I said to him with a smile, "Always good to have a back up." Wiped the smirk right off his face...


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