Sometimes you run like Forest Gump, and never stop.
You mumble, mutter, squakle, and stutter.
You leave a mess behind & make The Face turn beat red.
knock it off.
You see, sometimes Mouth, you get me into too much trouble.
Love,
Me.
Thursday, January 22, 2009
These Bones, These Bones.-Dec 06,08
these dry bones..da da da la la le lu la... however that goes.
I'm literally a bag of bones. From a healthy 125 I am now 117. Not good. I can't keep much down, not even a cracker. I mean give me a break here or something. Throw me a bone. oh wait, I've got plenty of those, never mind.
I'm literally a bag of bones. From a healthy 125 I am now 117. Not good. I can't keep much down, not even a cracker. I mean give me a break here or something. Throw me a bone. oh wait, I've got plenty of those, never mind.
Oh my, my.-Dec 05,08
I can't put one thing in without it comming out the otherside.
needless to say, the past few days have been rather explosive.
(I know you were dying to read that, I probably just wasted a few mintues of your day. suuuccckkkaaaaaS! jk)
needless to say, the past few days have been rather explosive.
(I know you were dying to read that, I probably just wasted a few mintues of your day. suuuccckkkaaaaaS! jk)
Funny People.-Dec 02,08
So there's a contest going on saying to describe yourself in 100 words or less to which the funniest will get to have a walk on part in a COMEDY movie. holly batman britches I want it like my palmerian wants to hump legs.
So I got my 100 words to be exact, atleast that's what microsoft word told me. & I think it's rather spiffy and just might have a chance. I mean heck I got you guys reading my little diddies and laughing ( i think..) haha.
So I got my 100 words to be exact, atleast that's what microsoft word told me. & I think it's rather spiffy and just might have a chance. I mean heck I got you guys reading my little diddies and laughing ( i think..) haha.
Oh my chit-zoo.-Dec 01,08
How awkwardly strange working as the front man of a dealership can be. I am (currently as I am writing) being hit on by an India man.(to which here I say I have NO problem with India People) Oh my. He's quite the cat with words.
Opening words, as he slyly, (or so he thought) paced up and down my desk. "You should Go for coffee on weekend with me."
(of course with a very thick "jew want a Slurpee accent." to which I had to ask him several times what the heck he meant.
(and this is when being married and having a ring comes in handy) and I simply said "oh no, my husband wouldn't like that" and flashed my bling bling in the fry lights that bake upon my desk.
Now I thought that would just about be an XY-see yourself away from me conversation but he paced on.
Again he leaned in closer "you could just tell him you go get coffee"
So this time I implied the words NO quite heavily. Thicker than whip cream on nanna pudding. But obviously not thick enough for this turban wearing jockey strap. On he passed, and on my heart raced wondering were the hell my coworker was who dumped this bo-zo off in front of my desk.
As if the situation wasn't awkward enough he continued
"where you go around here to find women? You know ones like me."
Uhhhh, how the heck was I suppose to answer that, knowing there arn't any creep clubs this side the Mississippi.
" What country do you tink' I am from?" he then asked, pacing even faster.
I almost felt like pulling the fire alarm and ducking for cover. Dude this guy might be sporting Bomb-of the-looms.
Uneasily I replied " India?"
He passed a bit more and in his thick musty accent said "ah, you got it right. You don't think I am Mexican. good. very good."
By now I am really wishing my coworker would hurry his arse back to "his clients" that seem to be like moths to the flame. good greif.
Somedays really are mundays. and this day was a Someday I had to be ruffled up like a defensive turkey. Yes, to answer your question, he is still here, but has retreated to the window in front of me and is now squaking with his pal and still slyly smiling at me. I just know at times like this you have to be primitive, no eye contact, sit up straight and puff your chest out, well wait, that might not be good for a female...maybe suck your chest in, (yeah, that might work better), foof your hair up and stand your ground.
oie vay.
**To which now I disclose I am not completely biased, or raciest at that, just Leary like the rest of creepy people**
Opening words, as he slyly, (or so he thought) paced up and down my desk. "You should Go for coffee on weekend with me."
(of course with a very thick "jew want a Slurpee accent." to which I had to ask him several times what the heck he meant.
(and this is when being married and having a ring comes in handy) and I simply said "oh no, my husband wouldn't like that" and flashed my bling bling in the fry lights that bake upon my desk.
Now I thought that would just about be an XY-see yourself away from me conversation but he paced on.
Again he leaned in closer "you could just tell him you go get coffee"
So this time I implied the words NO quite heavily. Thicker than whip cream on nanna pudding. But obviously not thick enough for this turban wearing jockey strap. On he passed, and on my heart raced wondering were the hell my coworker was who dumped this bo-zo off in front of my desk.
As if the situation wasn't awkward enough he continued
"where you go around here to find women? You know ones like me."
Uhhhh, how the heck was I suppose to answer that, knowing there arn't any creep clubs this side the Mississippi.
" What country do you tink' I am from?" he then asked, pacing even faster.
I almost felt like pulling the fire alarm and ducking for cover. Dude this guy might be sporting Bomb-of the-looms.
Uneasily I replied " India?"
He passed a bit more and in his thick musty accent said "ah, you got it right. You don't think I am Mexican. good. very good."
By now I am really wishing my coworker would hurry his arse back to "his clients" that seem to be like moths to the flame. good greif.
Somedays really are mundays. and this day was a Someday I had to be ruffled up like a defensive turkey. Yes, to answer your question, he is still here, but has retreated to the window in front of me and is now squaking with his pal and still slyly smiling at me. I just know at times like this you have to be primitive, no eye contact, sit up straight and puff your chest out, well wait, that might not be good for a female...maybe suck your chest in, (yeah, that might work better), foof your hair up and stand your ground.
oie vay.
**To which now I disclose I am not completely biased, or raciest at that, just Leary like the rest of creepy people**
Little Ditty Do.-Dec 01,08
Ironically as I read responses about publishing my old el' bloggo there's a little ditty of a song playing in the background singing "someday some way la la la". Funny, could be a sign, my karma through a speaker.
Needless to say we all have our dirt, our woa is me's, and our triumphs. So what would make mine different than anyone elses? The fact that I'm willing to make mine public? As if the tablods haven't covered that aspect in every angle and crevus of it's grueling subjects. Poor fellas, You can't help but feel bad for those guys. Constantly barraged by cameras and heartless writters and editors. I suppose I should be thankful that when I stub a toe or fall down a few flights of stairs I don't have them running after me and headling my bruised up bum. (hehe, would be funny though!) "Clumst Lady trips on flat surface, what a secptical!!"
Blah, Blah, yah, yah. So here I sit. Thinking on it. Really thinking on it. As if someone gave my gerbil a redline and he's high tailing it in his little wheel. dang son.
I do know this, I would need some SERIOUS EDITING of the large perportion variety. Because I can't put a conjunction junction with my Rufus Xavier Sarsaparilla to save my life. My grammer needs revamping. bad.
Needless to say we all have our dirt, our woa is me's, and our triumphs. So what would make mine different than anyone elses? The fact that I'm willing to make mine public? As if the tablods haven't covered that aspect in every angle and crevus of it's grueling subjects. Poor fellas, You can't help but feel bad for those guys. Constantly barraged by cameras and heartless writters and editors. I suppose I should be thankful that when I stub a toe or fall down a few flights of stairs I don't have them running after me and headling my bruised up bum. (hehe, would be funny though!) "Clumst Lady trips on flat surface, what a secptical!!"
Blah, Blah, yah, yah. So here I sit. Thinking on it. Really thinking on it. As if someone gave my gerbil a redline and he's high tailing it in his little wheel. dang son.
I do know this, I would need some SERIOUS EDITING of the large perportion variety. Because I can't put a conjunction junction with my Rufus Xavier Sarsaparilla to save my life. My grammer needs revamping. bad.
Wasted Energy.-Nov 30, 08
Perhaps my energy is wasted on things of the lesser value & should be re-directed to the greater value. My grandfather just published his 4th book and at the age of uh, (60 something? which off the record he dosn't like to disclose anyways.. haha) is still cruising along and travels the world as one of the leading experts in ROI (return on investment) which unless you live in the corperate world it really wouldn't do a whole lot for you.
He's given me alot of great advice over the years and always seems to have a remedy of words for all my mishaps & mistakes. He told me on thanksgiving that I should try writing a book. releasing my energy, frustrations, and yada yada so on onto paper would probably help my pent up emotions fly the coop.
Now, mind you, I'm not to sure it would be all that interesting. " I woke up this -moring, and I tinkly-doo'd, took a hot shower, watched the news, and it's pancakes with some suger & a syrup swirl, Hey I'm just an ordinary Girl." haha.
So what do think? One of my best friends is currently writting a book about an amazing journey of overcomming and being strong that will raise awarness and give hope to the hopless. I know she's got alot to say, where as I, not so much.
I guess I'll pounder on the thought, heck, I already have a book on here do I not? hehe. Should I go forth younder and print it out? (Might get me in trouble) but might also bring in some mola, mola. hehe.
He's given me alot of great advice over the years and always seems to have a remedy of words for all my mishaps & mistakes. He told me on thanksgiving that I should try writing a book. releasing my energy, frustrations, and yada yada so on onto paper would probably help my pent up emotions fly the coop.
Now, mind you, I'm not to sure it would be all that interesting. " I woke up this -moring, and I tinkly-doo'd, took a hot shower, watched the news, and it's pancakes with some suger & a syrup swirl, Hey I'm just an ordinary Girl." haha.
So what do think? One of my best friends is currently writting a book about an amazing journey of overcomming and being strong that will raise awarness and give hope to the hopless. I know she's got alot to say, where as I, not so much.
I guess I'll pounder on the thought, heck, I already have a book on here do I not? hehe. Should I go forth younder and print it out? (Might get me in trouble) but might also bring in some mola, mola. hehe.
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