Saturday, September 5, 2009

So today I take dad to the doc

and I know it will be a long wait so I grab Jen Lancaster's 3rd book and head out the door.

The doc specializes in gastric bypass surgery as well so upon entering I sit next to a young teenager who weighs up to 600 lbs. This doc has been on TLC and his patient on that show died.

anyway, I lay my book on the chair next to me, and didn't think anything about it until I get this strange look from the kid.

Yup, guess which Lancaster book I took...

'Such A Pretty Fat'.

I had to go outside afterwards...

Tuesday, May 12, 2009

Weirdness and Random Thoughts

So since I can't drive to work, daddy is my carpool buddy.

we drive down a highway by the house which is riddled with honkey tonks.

The Saloon is now:

The South Houston Funeral Home.

No freaking joke! The place still has the horse posts out front! I want to have my funeral there - they'd better play old country and western music!


Random thought that made daddy mad:

me: Dad, do you have stud finder? The battery in mine is dead.

Daddy: Why?

me: I want to see if it can find the screws in my leg - the magnets didn't work.

Daddy: Dammit Richard, stop F*cking with your leg!

me: I just want to see!

I do wonder why magnets didn't work. Tomorrow I'm trying stronger magnets...

Tuesday, March 17, 2009

You have to swear not to tell mominem!

Backstory:

Mominem go to Necie's neck o' the woods from time to time and go to flea markets and mom brings back (Charly help me if I misspell) tschotchkes, Yiddish for knick-knacks...

So she comes back with a naked mermaid holding a seashell. The vendor gives her fake pearls for the shell.

Mominem: Rick, would you paint some nipples on her?

Me: No.

Mominem: Rick, please?

Me: No. Are you kidding me with this? I will not paint nipples on your mermaid!


here's what she looked like when brought home. (notice the pony tail holder - she came with that, honest!)




Ok, so cut to tonight, and I've seen this mermaid for weeks.

I suddenly get inspired!

(ps, the sheepskin rug probably helped with the inspiration - new present I got for me btw)

So here's what I figured she needed:



I am counting the days until mom notices - anyone want to place bets?

Friday, February 13, 2009

Valentine's Week Musings

Ok, so this only might make me laugh.

I'm going in reverse order.

Last night my sister came over with a red velvet cake for Valentine's Day.

She was baking one for mominem and I, my neighbor, and her father in law.

Yummy cake.

Cut to today, and I take a bathroom break.

It looks like I'm having a spontaneous abortion or have major lower bowel cancer.

I'm thinking both.

Then I get to thinking what I ate last.

'How much Hi-C did I drink?'

'Did I main-line Kool-Aid?'

Then it comes to me - I ate that GD red velvet cake!

Then I think, 'oh shit! mom, the hypochondriac is gonna freak if..."


This is me:

mom, um, if you ate A's cake, don't freak out in the bathroom.

mominem: Oh , THANK GOD I'm not the ony one! I've been freaking out all morning!


Ok, so then I email sis and tell her she should tell all of her victims not to freak out.

She replys that I'm gross and that's all.

So I email another victim who replys:

Yeah, I figured that out, but don't tell (victim # 4)- her sister.


I may now need anal bleaching to get rid of red dyes 4,5 6,7 and 84,000.




In other news, I got my Valentine's present from my mother.

A case of frozen pizzas and a box of mozzarella bites from Sam's Club.

I think it's a sad case when your mominem decide to get you food stuff as a present.

Just saying...


And lastly, last Saturday I get a phone call from someone who wants to burn me.

Really.

It started with my receiving a card in the mail for a free cremation from the Neptune Society.

I guess I lost because I got a call from a guy in Baytown who wanted to meet me for coffee to discuss.

I asked him to send me brochures and he said that was fine but would rather meet for 'coffee or something'...

Cut six months forward and he calls me again at 9 o'fucking clock last Saturday morning.

I told him as much that it was rude and to call back anytime after 8.

Motherfarker did.

I ignored the call.

Then I get a call from an unrecognized number and I stupidly answer. BTW, his name is Bob.

Me: Hello

Bob: Hi, is his Bob from Nep...

Me: Yes, I know.

Bob: Can you meet me this week?

Me: No, this week is busy with work, can I get your phone or cell or email and I'll call you back?

Bob: (really this is what he said) NOBODY EVER CALLS BACK ABOUT CREMATION!

Me: um,ok, but...

Bob: What about Saturday?

Me: No, I'm busy. (what I'm really thinking is - ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME THAT YOU WANT TO TALK ABOUT BURNING ME TO A CRISP ON VALENTINE'S DAY YOU SICK FUCK!!!)

Bob: (indignant) Thank you. BYE!

me: (stunned for a bit then - did that motherfucker just hang up on me because I wouldn't meet him for coffee to discuss burning my corpse?

really?

it's the Neptune Society - what makes me know for sure he's not throwing my arse to the sharks and then giving my family an urn filled with kitty litter?

Tuesday, January 27, 2009

Frog Genitals

Mom's, you may not find this funny (kinda sexual?)

but I'm laughing my arse off!

Backstory:

In the late 70's mominem bought novelty frogs with male and female genitalia.

Cut to last weekend and she bought a new pair to give to Syddo the kiddo (for 50 cents), in mom's words, "to teach her about sex."

Now cut to today.

Syddo gets off of the bus, pronounces, "Time to let the frogs out!" and proceeds to unfold a white washcloth with the ceramic 'enhanced' frogs.

She showed them to the children on the bus.

Ok. Breathe.

Mom is waiting on Sis to freak.

Nothing.

Turns out that Sis doesn't know until they went out to the store and Syd spills her guts.

Sis comes in afterwards, sans Syddo, and is livid!

She yells at mom for buying the frogs.

I point out that the frogs were not taken from here, but from her house, and she should see what her child takes to school.

Did I mention I'm giggling the whole time?

She wasn't amused. Apparently I don't know what it means to be called in to the Principal's office.

I'm still giggling.

She's going on about her 'permanent record' and Lord knows what else.

I'm still giggling because she didn't take a gun or drugs or porn to school, she took stupid anatomically incorrect frogs to the bus.

Frogs don't have boobs or a penis as depicted.

and she's taking Syd to another city next school year.

I still think it's funny...



Friday, October 3, 2008

A Funeral Story

Two days after Ike we lost a family member to Breast Cancer. The situation down here with the aftermath was quite bleak so the funeral was put off until a week after the storm.

Don't worry, I'm not going to get morose - I think she'd enjoy my sharing this story with y'all.

So the day of the burial we have to go to a funeral home near downtown Houston - we're running late cause mominem have to primp - I need gas but I saw a Chevron near the funeral home the night before at the Rosary, so I don't hit any of the three Chevron's near me (I use Chevron Supreme - period). Get to the funeral home and drop mominem off at the door and head the two blocks to the Chevron - they only have regular.

No sweat, I'll get to the one about 3 miles away. This Chevron is completely out of gas and missing some pumps.

Ok, there's one near the liquor store on the other side of downtown. Only regular.

I'm starting to sweat as I REALLY need gas at this point - I know of two more within a 5 mile radius and luckily the next one about 3 miles away has Supreme! Hallelujah!

I wait in a short line and on the way back to the home I get a call that my dad is wondering where I am - I explain that I couldn't find gas but was on my way back. (Dad tells me later that he thought I had been jumped or something since the funeral home is in a rough neighborhood).

We finish the services and get into the procession - the cemetery is about 56 miles away. We don't get over 40 MPH the whole time.

Ok, we finally get there and this is where it gets interesting. The cemetery is just this side of Galveston. In a very small town - and this is their town's cemetery. It's on the 'wrong side of the tracks' and right across from a liquor store that has a carport out front - totally 1940 ish, except now it's scary.

Anyway, the cemetery is about 1/3 the size of my back yard, and the ground, which had been dry for a week, was eerily soft - I kept getting all "Stephen King" feeling and kept waiting for a boney hand to grab my ankle, but I digress...

So after saying like the 90th 'Our Father' that day ( I think even He was all like, Ok, I get it!), we put rose petals on the casket instead of gravel and as one of her son's goes up to put on his petals, he throws himself on the casket - totally out of a movie right? My sister was going to say something, but knew better and closed her mouth and told her husband to go get his brother.

Ok, so then they conclude the services, or so I thought - no one tells us to leave.

The next thing I know they start lowering the casket into the ground right there in front of everybody! I'm thinking, "oh man if he jumps in after the casket I'm going to seriously regret not bringing my camera!" (side note, is it just us mexicans that bring cameras to a funeral - isn't that tacky? - because some did and they took open casket photos)

Ok, as if that wasn't weird enough, they then lower the concrete crypt top onto the top of the concrete crypt.

Ok, now will they tell us to go? No.

Now they pull off the mechanism that helps lower everything, load it into a truck, have Syddo pick up all of the petals around the hole and throw them in - all the while dad is holding the back of her dress to make sure she doesn't fall in. Then they start moving the flowers out of the way, and pull the astroturf off of the mound of dirt.

Now will they dismiss us? No.

The next thing I know, my friend comes up to us standing in the back and whisper yells "Oh hell no, they fired up the back-ho!?!"

We turn around and sure enough, here comes a tractor with a front loader to push the dirt in! It was at this point that I say, "Ok, I'm outta here." and run (as best as you can with skeleton hand soft sod and dress shoes) back to the car.

I sit there and mominem comes to the car, sits down and says, "I have to poop". I say, well wait on dadinem. Then she says, very ladylike, "if you don't find me a bathroom right this minute I am going to sh*t in your car."

Let's say I never got out of a one-lane double-parked dirt road cemetery so fast in all my life!

Thank goodness for my car, a Mobile was open, and we went back and collected dad, who thought we left him. I still don't know if they filled the hole with an audience but I've never seen a service like that.

Thank goodness I'm being cremated.

Rest in Peace GiGi. R

For the Record

Palin's remarks re: homosexuality have finally driven me over the edge. I know people here and our previous board have written/said the same thing and I walked on by, but enough is enough. Palin says, and I'm paraphrasing so I may get a word or two wrong, but the gist won't be lost: "I have a friend, she's not my gay friend, she's one of my best friends, (ok, so far so good, but she had to screw it up). She just made a decision(choice? I can't remember) to live her life a certain way, a decision(choice) that I chose not to make for myself."

A decision(choice)?

Once and for all, homosexuality is not a decision(choice).

What if she had said, "I have a friend, she's not my black friend, she's one of my best friends, She just chose to be black (or Irish, or Mexican or Czech). That's a decision(choice) I chose not to make." As I said I've seen this sentiment written before by 'friends' of mine here and it ticked me off , but I let it go.

No person in their right mind would 'choose' to be belittled. To be a second-class citizen. To be denied basic civil rights. To watch every word they say and to whom. To not quite know when it's ok to be themselves.

I know what arguments I'm going to get, and some may seem valid on the surface, but men and women do make choices for different reasons that make them not a part of the homosexual community, but eventually it comes to a point where they have to be true to themselves.

A choice - hell no.