The Cubicle’s Backporch

JFriend sent me this joke. (To my work e-mail of course) I laughed out loud when I read it. It’s a pretty good one. And it’s rated R. Just a warning.

Weird E-bay auction:

Cracker Barrel Biscuit shaped like a fish. Uh. Yeah. You should read the description. The seller REALLY wants to draw eyes and a mouth on it, but they’ll let you decide if you want to do that or not. How noble.

Good site to read to realize that maybe your relationship IS pretty damn good:

True Wife Confessions. Quote: “I didn’t want lovin’ right then, I was thinking maybe after the “movie.” Or perhaps by some SMALL chance he might find me attractive for once and want me more then frontline.” (Frontline is a war documentary, apparently) or Confession #2607: “Sometimes I want to call your ex-wife and ask her why she divorced you, just to see if you did the same stupid shit to her that you do to me.” Ouch.

The cheating ones are the craziest. Check them out.

A-Rod Thing-

Have you heard the latest? It was all his wife’s fault. She has a psychology degree and she was fuckin’ with his head, so he went out and cheated. That’s coming from his friends of course, who need A-Rod to keep buying them beers and t-shirts. Maybe, MAYBE he liked the fame and I dunno, LIKED having sex with females other than his wife. NO! It can’t be!

I think she looks awesome in this picture. I’d kill for her body.

Jessica Simpson- Gone Tried to go Country

Jessica Simpson got booed and they had interviews from MALE concert goers who said things like “She’s just not country enough,” and “I didn’t hear the twang- She’s not good enough to be here.”

Now, I can guarantee that if any of my country-loving male friends were asked what they thought, they wouldn’t be talking about her not being country enough. They’d say things like “I’d do her” or “She has great tits” and then when the reporter said “But what do you think about her singing?” They’d look confused and say “She sang?”

Nothing makes me smile like a first-time skier trying to get out of the water.

I will not point out at this time that I have never attempted to ski. It is easier to critique others. (”Lean BACK! Skis OUT of the water!”) heh.

And now, since we spent the weekend at the Lake, I have more LakeSpeak for you. (Want to see more? Try LakeSpeak1 and LakeSpeak2 to try and learn the Lake Lingo)

LakeHusband: Wow. You gotta try the green shit AND the yellow shit. Yumm.

Of course the green shit was zuchinni (fried, of course) and the yellow shit is yellow squash. (Fried, of course)

If you’ve got a good decorating eye, head over to my other blog, J&J Acres, to suggest tips on what I can do with the colors already in the Lake House. Creativity needed.

Before I had a dog, I would look at people who dressed their dogs up as dumb ditzy ass blondes. I mean, why would you put a dress on a dog?! A dress that the dog probably doesn’t even like?! It was cruel! It made you look dumb!

And then I got a dog.

This one in fact.

See the bow in her hair?! Tell me that’s not ADORABLE!

And all that changed. Suddenly, I thought she looked ADORABLE in faux fur coats. Just last week, I found this cute little western outfit in the clearance section at Wal-Fart. Since we always say that Jolee is a country dog, I HAD to get it for her.

Tell me she doesn’t look like she’s getting ready to start line-dancing.

Here she is, doing her ‘prairie-dog’ to see what Mr. C is cookin.

Luckily, she doesn’t hold it against us that we dress her up.

She loves us.

*Jolee is named after my middle name (Jo) and Mr. C’s middle name (Lee). She’s a pekepoo.

So tonight I’m in Dearborn, Michigan. I’ve never been to Dearborn, Michigan before and I arrived here, I’ll admit, in a piss-poor mood.

For one, my boss is ’sick’ (he has a cold) so he refused to drive for the whole trip. That includes the seven (7!!!) hour drive to place A, then the 1.5 hour drive to current place, B. So I’ve driven 8.5 hours today. I could’ve been at Myrtle Beach by now. But I’m NOT. I’m in DEARBORN, MICHIGAN.

For two, Mr. C got invited to go golfing at a pretty fancy golf course by a vendor of his. (For the record, I don’t know if he’s ever golfed before) So I haven’t heard from him since like 2:00 today which makes me cranky b/c I’m in a hotel room ALONE and I need someone to talk TO.

For three, I booked the hotel rooms and my boss is in the room right next to me. And our rooms have those ‘adjoining doors’. Fuckin yay. Everytime he flushes the toilet or turns on the sink, I hear it like it’s in my room.

Argh.

So, at first I was determined to not go get something to eat. Then I sat in my small-ass hotel room and got a little stir-crazy and decided to head out to the local McD’s.

That’s when fate intervened.

I turned on the navigation on my phone, but thanks to it’s confusion trying to navigate the ‘Michigan Lefts’ and my confusion trying to figure out where the HELL it wanted me to go, I wound up on the opposite end of where I was headed. So I went to turn into the closest parking lot to turn around, and I noticed that there were fresh vegetables all over the front porch of this store. So, with my curiousity piqued, I parked and walked in.

It was HEAVEN.

There were fresh fruits and vegetables everywhere. There was a bakery, a meat shop, a dessert counter (with FRENCH desserts! and cute little cakes!), there was wine, and cheese, and fresh cooked fish. They had 16 different varieties of OLIVES (I counted!) all fresh and begging for a martini. Did I mention the desserts? One variety of little cake sat in a made-of-chocolate teacup. TOO cute!!

It was Westborn Market.

After walking around doe-eyed for a while, I picked out a sandwich on freshly-made bread, with a cut of cheese, and crackers. (The France experience is coming back to me) I also went to the dessert counter and was proudly walking away from the fabulous selections when my eye caught on a 9-layer strawberry shortcake. “I’ve changed my mind!” I said proudly, “I’ll take a strawberry shortcake!”

Yum. The cheese? $16.99 a pound. My cut was less than that of course, and of COURSE my company is paying for it b/c HELLO! I’m travelling!

Yumm*9 layers. Yeah.

I’m almost certain that what I picked out was healthier than McD’s. Almost.

It’s amazing how a small thing like finding a fabulous fresh-market can turn your day around.

Now when the hell is Mr. C gonna call me back?!

Since we bought the lake house, I have done more window/internet shopping than ever before. All of a sudden, I’m a price warrior, looking for a great deal on whatever my mental project is for the day.

Last week, I shopped for washer/dryers. I also shopped for furniture (Crate and Barrel has ‘organic’ furniture… WTF?). I shopped for dining room tables (fuckin’ expensive if you want a table that seats 6). I shopped for TVs (the house is wired for surround sound. We will take advantage of that… one day), for couches and chairs and loveseats- OH MY. And this is what I’ve bought so far:

Cups.

Actually, 3 plastic margarita glasses in fun summer colors and 3 plastic wine glasses in fun summer colors. ($1.49 each- 60% off at Sears) If you haven’t shopped for furniture lately, I think prices have gone up 5,723,072,845% (plus or minus 1%) since I shopped for them last.

And WHY THE HELL are mattresses so stinkin’ expensive?!?! How do people who DON’T make six-figures a year afford them?!

It looks like the lake house will have what Mr. C calls “carpet furniture**” for a while.

**It means we HAVE NO FURNITURE. We sit on the carpet. We sleep on the carpet. We walk on the carpet. We lay on the carpet. We talk while we’re sitting on the carpet. We set things on the carpet. We…. well, you get the point.

Scene From a Relationship:

Slynnro style.

Me: You THREW the newspaper away?

*Note: This was yesterday, and I’m referring to the newspaper from last week.

Mr. C: Um, YEAH. It sat under the table all week.

Me: Did you keep the coupons out?

Mr. C: I dunno, did you seperate them from the rest of the paper?

Me: No…

 Mr. C: Well, then they got thrown away too.

Me: I can’t BELIEVE you threw my coupons away! YOU KNOW HOW MUCH MY COUPONS MEAN TO ME!

Mr. C: Are you listening to yourself?

hee hee. Maybe I did overreact a little. But I’m on this coupon kick where we may spend $200 at the grocery but I am SO using that $.50 coupon proudly.

**I’d like to give a shout-out to D in Decatur, Alabama who is a friend of a friend and who I may (or may not) have texted “I’m creaming” to for my friend, JFriend, from a concert that may or may not have been Keith Urban. And he may or may not have thought she meant “I’m screaming” then he may or may not have realized that yes, she did mean “creaming.”**

While I was up in Michigan, there was a group of 5 of us that went out to dinner one night to a pretty nice place. (Ah- gotta love being taken out to dinner) We were trading stories and the subject of tattoos came up. My boss (who- to be fair- had had a glass of wine by this point) brought up an old female employee of his that had a tattoo on her back. It went up into her hairline and went down below her pants. I expected him to tell us it was a big angel or maybe a big skull.

Nope.

It was a Penis Tree. Oh yes. This 20-something year old had a HUGE tattoo that spanned her whole back in which instead of leaves, this huge tree had penises.

Yes. A penis tree. And my boss said “Penis Tree” over dinner. And we all laughed and tried to figure out how drunk you have to be to get something like that, but we ultimately decided that in order to get a full Penis Tree tattooed on your back, you have to be on something a little more hardcore than alcohol.

Can’t you just imagine a group of friends sitting around smokin’ draino, or snortin’ air freshener (or whatever kids are doin nowadays) and someone says (with a real dumbass chuckle beforehand)- “Hey Vicky. You should totally get a tattoo of a penis tree on your back.” And she’d have to snort and say “I totally should.” But it wouldn’t stop there… they’d have to get in their car (or put on their shoes, depending on location) and drive to the tattoo parlor and announce proudly that their friend was getting a Penis Tree tattoo.

WTF?

And in the spirit of penis talk, a little help from Miley Cyrus’ Concert Candy:

Picture from The Blemish.

So what crazy tattoos have you seen? Or what crazy tattoos do you have?

Dear Fucker Who Let His Kids ‘Work Out’:

I just wanted to thank you for letting your fucking daughters play on the (only) treadmills in the workout room. My room? The one right across from the workout room? Yeah- I heard EVERY beep that came from that damn room. EVERY time your daughters pushed the button to raise/lower the speed OR incline, I heard it like I was in beeping hell. Sure, I could’ve worked out on the stationary bike, but your fucking son was playing on the damn thing like it was a jungle gym.

 So thank you, Fucker, for preventing me from working out tonight. My fat ass really appreciates it.

                                                                 Sincerely,

                                                                       ROOM 128

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Thank you all for your comforting words about my ‘relationship breakdown’. I’ll respond back to your comments once I get a decent wireless connection. And Mr. C? Totally got me beautiful flowers yesterday that I could smell when he was still ten feet away. And today? He woke me up with a kiss and a “Happy 2 year and 1 day anniversary sugar.” He doesn’t read my blog, but sometimes I think he reads my thoughts.

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Side note: Watching Oprah from my hotel room in Michigan. This woman has put her family in horrible financial debt. She’s a stay-at-home-mom, he works and makes what Mr. C and I do combined. They have $135,000 in credit card debt. No health insurance. $2800 a month mortgage (I think she said the mortgage was $650,000), and three car payments of $1700 a month.

Holy shit.

Today is Mr. C and I’s 2 year anniversary. And a couple of days ago, we signed our names together on a 30-year mortgage.So it’s only right that I’m having one of those question-everything-about-us days, right?