Sep 4, 2011

Pink is the new tough

I'm at CVS today getting a bottle of water and a few other essentially unessential essentials, and I notice this guy noticing me. He's kind of a big guy, clearly heading to the gym or just coming from there. Lovely. Not to snob or anything, but this happens all the time.

I go about my business.

When I grab my essentials, I get in line to pay -- right behind him of course. He's still doing the side-look and puffing up his chest and whatever else guys do when they're trying to look tough. Fine. I smile.

He's got some energy drink, some kind of soap or something (manly brand, I'm sure) and who knows what else. Normal guy stuff.

He pays and leaves, with another glance my way, of course. (Note to guys: Just say something. Really. It's better than this awkward staring business.)

I pay and leave and see him behind his big manly truck. And I LOL. I literally LOL, and I don't LOL lightly.

He's loading three pink hula hoops into the bed of his truck, which also contains a pink girly bicycle with pink tassles on the handlebars and some other pink stuff (Roller skates maybe? A pink jump rope? Pink stuffed animals? Who knows. All I see is pink.)

He sees me notice. I imagine whatever manliness he's got going on immediately shrivels and his puffed up chest deflates.

Now I have to say something of course, because I'm not one to not say things...

"It's hard to look tough with a trunk like that." Poor guy.

Jul 20, 2011

An open letter to people who don't drive small cars

Dear people who don't drive small cars,

Calmly take your hands of the horn and wipe that holy-shit-don't-back-into-me look off your face. I promise, I am not going to hit your car.

I drive a small car. When I park, my cute little two-seater sports car goes into parking spaces and basically disappears. Pickup trucks, minivans, even Honda Civics are longer than my car. If I don't remember where I parked, I'm basically screwed.


When I'm backing out of a space, I can't see if anyone is coming unless I back up just a little bit to where everyone else's car's butt is.


Good Lord. You'll please note that I am inching my way back old-lady style, not gunning it like a douchebag. I am a good driver. As soon as I can see, I stop, give the person who honked at me an eat-shit look and then gun it.

Anywhos, the point is: Quit honking at me as soon as I put on my reverse lights and go back 3.5 inches. We all know 3.5 inches is not enough to do anything.

Apr 4, 2010

Quarters, pit bulls and panties

A laundromat haiku:

Pit bull on the floor
Seven damn quarters a load
I see your panties

Y'all, my washing machine broke this morning. I was washing a load that was admittedly probably too big for the darn thing, but why do an extra load when you can jam a few more things in there, right?

Everything was working out fine (and I was saving time by consolidating loads!) until it started doing that bangbangcrashboombang that washing machines do when they're off balance.

No big deal.

I'll just open the lid and stop the spinning and move the clothes around.


I forgot that this stupid washing machine doesn't stop spinning when you open the lid...

...I guess it'll just have to suffer through the off-balanceness.


It chose to die. It kept spinning, but kind of stopped making the normal washing machine "is on" noise. It was just quiet spinning, and I knew this was not a good sign. But it was still spinning! So, I was hoping it was fine (even though I knew it wasn't). It's always better to delay aggravation as long as possible.

Anywhos, back to my wishy washer. It made it through the spin cycle... but didn't fill up for rinse. Hmm, I says to myself, I says: Maybe if I manually turn it to rinse.

Rinse, bitch!

Like magic, the water started to fill up. Yay, water! Yay, washer! It's going to be OK!

No, actually, it's not. Now I have a washer full of water that won't spin to drain full of towels that serve their purpose much better when dry.

[enter delayed aggravation]

Grrrrrrrr! Now I have to find a laundromat that's open on Easter. Go figure. Seeing as how it is Easter, could someone just resurrect my washing machine?!

Now, mind you, a laundromat? a) I don't do coin laundry. b) I need coins. c) That thing is full of water and full of stuff -- what the heck do I do with that? Bring it dripping wet?

I'm pretty sure Jesus would not approve of my washing machine dying today.

Long story short, I find a laundromat. Every change machine in there (there are two) are out of order. There is a pit bull in a cage just sleeping in the coin laundry like that's normal. And the other lady there is doing laundry in this ridiculous dress (shirt?) that flaunts (that can't be the right word) her panties when she loads the dryer.

And they're so big, I'm sure she could fit a whole load in them. If she hasn't already.

Happer Easter, everyone.

Oct 7, 2009

Fauxhawk = NO drivers license allowed

In my opinion, anyway. People with those ridiculous fauxhawks should not be allowed to have drivers licenses. Honestly, they probably should be allowed out of their house, but I realize this is a little extreme.

So I'm driving home from work today and I'm aggravated. I'm so aggravated for about 100 reasons and, apparently, everyone on I-95 has gotten the memo, and they're driving extra bad to to spite me.

Especially the guy with the fauxhawk.

I am in my fun little car, music blaring, trying to drown away the angst. It's time for me to merge onto the highway, which means that I'll slide in front of the guy with the fauxhawk (who is driving in the slow lane, so this must be what he's expecting -- people get on 95 in your lane).

He, however, clearly had other ideas and was totally and completely appalled by the fact that I'm even thinking about getting in front of him.

"I'm driving too fast for this lane, lady," I can hear him fume (picture little fumes coming out of his fauxhawk). "How dare you make me hit my breaks like I should expect to in this merging lane!"

I know, y'all. I got a lot of nerve.

So what does he do as I'm merging as any normal person would? He speeds up, nearly swiping the left rear of my car to get in the merging lane himself. Whaaaaa? Then zooms back into the slow lane, nearly taking out the left front of my car this time.

Yay, fauxhawk dude!
You're now in front of me! You did it!

This is when I take the opportunity to do what any respectful driver would do... speed up and ride his cool-guy car bumper for a few seconds, of course -- and he looks at me through his rear view like I'm a crazy person!

Really, buddy? Didn't you just do that to me? Except that you added in some extras, like nearly amputating two of my car's extremities?

I mean, shoot -- it's not like he was jockeying for position in front of me in line at the grocery store and I had a cart loaded with $200 worth of groceries and file full of coupons or anything. What would he have lost be letting me merge? Two seconds?

He was probably running late because he spent too much time sculpting his hair.

Aug 26, 2009

What aisle are the cheese puffs in?

They're in aisle 4 -- but if you were shopping at Winn-Dixie, you'd already know that.

You'd also know what aisle the pork 'n beans are in or where to find the juice, apple juice, cranapple juice or mixed juice. Inexplicably, you might have trouble locating the pork rinds and orange drink.

You see, Winn-Dixie feels these fine, fine products are staple enough to actually make it on the sign above each aisle. Just to say "chips" and would certainly fall short of acceptable -- enough people are looking for cheese puffs that they need their own line up there.

All this is fine, but let's look at the big picture: There are, let's say, 15 aisles in Winn-Dixie. Each one gets 5 lines on their sign. You're telling me that the pork 'n beans actually falls in their top 60 selling items list so that it gets its own placard? Sure... right up there next to soap, milk and ground beef (they're the beef people, after all).

I demand to see this list. If all those juices ranked high enough to get their own billing, I demand a recount -- for Orange Drink's sake.

Aug 22, 2009

Where do dentures belong?

This is a pop quiz, folks. Sorry I didn't warn you earlier, but I think most of us will be able to pass this test pretty easily (that is, of course, unless you're the lady I saw at Publix today).

There is only one question on this test. No need for pen and paper, you can just think the answer quietly to yourself.

1. Dentures belong...

a) firmly Fixodented in your mouth, as if they were real teeth.
b) on your nightstand in a cup of fizzy whatever it is that you dunk dentures in.
c) flicking in out of your mouth like you used to do when you wore a retainer.

Now, I want to apologize to you, my dear readers. I'm sorry. This was a trick question. There are actually two correct answers -- and one of them is not C.

But you knew that. Everyone knew that, except for the nasty, disgusting, denture-flicking woman who was at Publix earlier. There I am, calmly crashing my cart into miscellaneous side bins of shit, when all of the sudden, with no warning this woman looks right at me and flips up her bottom denture.

Lady, please! That's my dinner in this cart. Now I hardly want to eat it because I'm associating with your denture display.

Anyway. Congrats to all of you who answered the quiz correctly. If you could please spread the word to your grandmas and young folks who lost their teeth do to lack of personal hygiene that C is not acceptable, I'd greatly appreciate it.