I stole this from Kandy. In the last 2 weekss have you:

(y = yes, n = no, ? = can't remember)
(y) made a wish
(n) tied your shoes -it's sandal weather!
(n) eaten cake
(n) signed a contract
(n) made something explode
(nuhn-uh) directly and knowingly supported the pornography industry
(n) sent something through the US mail
(y) been very angry
(n) gone a day without eating
(n) stolen something you considered "insignificant"
(y) watched more than three different television shows
(y) prayed
(n) had a conversation that you considered very personally meaningful
(n) been intoxicated by any substance
(n) thrown up
(n) gotten paid
(n) gone a night without sleeping
(n) broken something you like by accident
(n) envied someone very strongly
(n) finished an artistic project
(n) hated
(n) made very loud noise
(n) made noise that was too loud (what's too loud?)
(y) given a thumbs up
(n) agreed to go out of state
(n) slept in a bed that is not, or has never been, your own
(n) sampled (up to interpretation) (not sure what that means)
(y) listened to Pat Benatar's "Love Is a Battlefield"
(n) been drunk
(n) smoked pot NEVER, EVER, EVER
(y) kissed a member of the opposite sex
(n) rode in a taxi
(n) been dumped
(n) been fired
(n) been in a fight (argument)
(n) snuck out of your parent's house
(y) broken the law IF SPEEDING COUNTS
(n) made out with a stranger
(n) stole something from my job
(n) saw someone you haven't seen in years
(n) fibbed to a friend
(n) had a crush on a teacher
(n) been to europe
(n) been out of the country
(n) skipped school
(y) said something you regretted instantly YUP, I GOT A BIG MOUTH!
(y) read a good book
(y) tried something new
(n) broken your word
(y) ended up not doing what you planned to do
(y) cried
(y) kept your mouth shut in order to keep the peace
FIRSTS
First best friend: Tee-Tee -I'm not sure if that was her real name.
First car: VW Beetle with 34 Ford Front End Kit -bought it myself and I loved it.
First date: Ugh, must you remind me?
First real kiss: Jason
First screen name: oneheckofabizzylady
First self purchased album: ????????
First funeral: My Dad's (I was 14)
First pets: A whole mess of rabbits (you know how that goes)
First piercing: Ears, age: 8
First credit card: 20
First enemy: Creepy girl in high school who stole my boyfriend
First musician you remember hearing in your house: Donna Summer?
LASTS
Last cigarette: never
Last car ride: yesterday
Last good cry: ???
Last library book checked out: Miss Julia by Ann B. Ross
Last movie seen: Theater, Shrek 2. On DVD, Can't remember
Last beverage drank: Coffee or Water, can't remember which.
Last food consumed: Honey Nut Cheerios
Last time showered: 'bout 1 hour ago.
Last phone call received: Yesterday, in the dressing room where I was trying on clothes.
Last shoes worn: Flip flops -I use them when I work outside.
Last cd played: Probably one of those Radio Disney ones
Last item bought: A Whole Mess of new clothes yesterday.
Last annoyance: The way people drive!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Last disappointment: not winning the lottery
Last time wanting to die: Not sure --anyway, who'd want to answer this?
Last shirt worn: Does that count now? Pink sleeveless top with lace detailing at the decolletage.
Last website visited: Kohls.com
Last word you said: What?!?!
Last song you sang: Something me & the kid made up to be silly
CURRENTS
Current mood: Ultra Mega Cheerful
Current music: TV
Current taste: Minty Fresh -just brushed my teeth
Current hair: top/front pulled up in a clip
Current clothes: khaki shorts and the same pink blouse I already told you about 10 questions ago.
Current annoyance(s): Rude & inconsiderate people
Current longing: to never have to pull weeds or mow again
Current desktop picture: The stupid windows default
Current book(s): Fletch Lives by Gregory McDonald
Current color of toenails: It's called honor, it's kind of a taupey pink if you can imagine that
Current hate: Mean people
QUESTIONS
What is in your cd player?: Didn't I answer this already?
What color socks are you wearing?: None
What color underwear are you wearing?: Hahaha wouldn't you like to know?
What's under your bed?: Under the bed boxes full of Mary Kay products
What time did you wake up today?: 5:00am and boy could I go for a nap right about now.



Okay, that's it. I'm off to shop.

Giggles

Sort of a guest entry today if you will. Knott posted this to my haloscan comments and I wanted to make sure everyone saw it.

Here's one for you:
An unbelievably rich old man was getting ill and infirm, and knew that he didn't have long to live. So, he called his beautiful young wife to his side and told her, "When I die, I only ask one thing from you."
"Anything, darling," she told him sweetly.
"When I die," he announced, "I want to buried with my money. All of my money."
"If that's what you want, dear," she agreed.
Not long after this conversation, the rich man passed away. Many people knew of his request, and they all watched the new widow carefully at the funeral. Sure enough, during the graveside ceremony, the young widow produced a small box and placed it in the casket, then had the lid lowered and the coffin put to rest.
Afterwards, her best friend approached her and asked her about the box.
"You know, he wanted to be buried with his money," the young widow said.
The friend marvelled at how faithful to her husband's wish the young widow was.
"You are such a good person," the friend told her. "And I'm actually surprised that all of that money fit into so small a box!"
"Actually," the widow said, "I tried, but it wouldn't fit. So I deposited it in my bank account and just wrote him a check."

Not meant to be man or woman bashing, just heard it and thought it was funny!

The next one came from a non-blogging friend of mine, Nancy:

Adam was walking around the Garden of Eden feeling very lonely, so God asked him, "What is wrong with you?"
Adam said he didn't have anyone to talk to. God said he was going to give him a companion and it would be a woman, "This person will cook for you and wash your clothes; she will always agree with every decision you make. She will bear your children and never ask you to get up in the middle of the night to take care of them."
"She will not nag you, and will always be the first to admit she was wrong when you've had a disagreement. She will never have a headache, and will freely give you love and compassion whenever needed."
Adam asked God: "What will a woman like this cost?"
God said, "An arm and a leg."
Adam said, "That's a little steep. What can I get, say, for just a rib?"

What can I say about this?

I found this DOG TOY?!?!?! thing at Knott's. I'm not sure if it's funny or scary or both. You'll have to decide that for yourself.

Monday Mayberry Moments Vol V

Well, in this week's installment we'll learn that life in Mayberry isn't just fun and games with the rednecked locals. There's the dark other side of life in Mayberry. Mayberry's frightening underbelly permeating every enterprise and institution be it social, evangelical, financial, civic or business related...

The RETIREES. A dastardly group. Seemingly sweet faced grandmothers and grandfathers who bake cookies, give hugs, and bring the best Deviled Eggs to the Church Socials. But just below the surface lies their true nature (DISCLAIMER: While some comments and events found here may seem to be stereotyping and cruel, the HR Lady actually has a great love and respect for the elderly and spends time volunteering at the local Nursing homes. The HR Lady knows from first hand experience that not all of our Retirees have a the-world-must-move-for-me-cuz-I'm-older-than-Methuseleh attitude. Actually, the majority of HR Lady's most trusted and closest friends and neighbors are retirees, but the nice ones -not these anti-etiquette scary ones. END OF DISCLAIMER) that of a vicious cart-blocking-every-aisle, always-driving-5 to 10 mph-below-the-speed-limit, cutting-you-in-the-pharmacy-line Gang. That's right GANG.

And they're frightening. Their group must be infiltrated and irradicated. Allow me to give you an example, an experience that is foremost in my mind. I go to a nice little church. A very small congregation. After almost a year there we know nearly everyone. When we come into the Church lobby there is a prayer intentions book which is kept quite busy by those of us concerned for our friends and family.

On the Sunday morning in question, I had just finished filling in my prayer intentions in the book when the Usher, a good friend of ours and a retiree, started talking to me about something. I turned to face him. Unbeknownst to me, in so positioning myself I had slightly blocked exit from the ladies room. We were talking (quietly lest we disturb those inside praying before Mass) when suddenly I'm shoved from behind and slightly to the left of me. AND I DO MEAN SHOVED. I'm slightly knocked off balance, but don't fall. I catch glimpse of the older (and definitely not frail -built like a freakin' line backer and with a man's cut to boot) woman who is just pulling open the doors into the church. She hasn't said, "Excuse me. Sorry. Pardon me," or even so much as a "You're in my way." I stood there dumbfounded. I don't expect poor manners like this anywhere I go, much less in the church lobby. The Ushers were all watching me to see what I would say. I was disgusted. I said, "Did you see that? I think she's old enough to know better." And left it there.

Ya wanna know the ugly truth? Even though I ended up turning the other cheek like I should, there was that temptation for just a minute to really let loose on her. No, I'm not saying I wanted to knock her so hard her dead granny would feel it and roll in her grave, but I really just wanted to walk out there into the entryway of the church and say nice and loud so everyone could know how rude she is, "HEEELLLLLLLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! I KNOW you felt yourself slam into me. I KNOW you realize you never said excuse me so that I could move out of your way. But could you have at least said, "Excuse me. I'm sorry. Or Some-FREAKIN'-Thing?" Then I'd have gone on and given her Chapter and Verse on doing unto others, etc., etc. Instead I bit the inside of my cheek nearly hard enough to draw blood and prayed really hard all the way through Mass to ask for forgiveness for my bad thoughts and to ask the Lord to help me forgive her rudeness.

What the HECK is up with people? Would it have killed Retiree-from-Hell to say excuse me so that I could have stepped out of her way? I freakin' sit two rows back from her nearly every Sunday while SHE shoots ME disapproving looks. For what? This is the hellish underbelly of Mayberry. The dark side. And believe me, if she enters her pickles in the County Fair, I'm voting against her, even if it means Aunt Bea's briny pickles will take the Blue Ribbon.

Faithfully submitted by your HR Lady.

Well, this isn't for the children's book, but it'll have to do as I'm not ready to share anything more just yet.

Well, I'm feeling MUCH BETTER!

So, if you were thinking I was sick again today, you were wrong. If you were thinking maybe HR Lady's been busy all day catching up with things that should have been done for the past two days, you're wrong again. If you figured out that with only two weeks 'til the kid goes back to school I went shopping, then you're right. He's at an awkward size where he can fit in a younger boys 8 or an older boys 8 depending on the cut and the brand name. We spent an hour trying on pants after pants after shorts after shorts. No problem with shirts, we can pretty much hold those up to him and figure it out.

We came home with six new pair of pants, 3 new pair of shorts (it'll be hot here FOREVER, remember?) and ten new shirts. This gets us off to a decent start, since I just bought him a whole bunch of new stuff right before school let out. Next we'll have to go through everything again and get rid of too small stuff (sadly, there won't be many of these because his growth spurt seems to have sputtered to a stop). We'll have to reorganize the closet and the drawers. We'll have to resume school year bedtimes next week so that the kid can ease back into it, which also means I'll have to go back to getting up at 6:30 every morning -Yuck. Even if it's only a half hour 'til 7:00, that half hour will be sorely missed. At least I should still have my Saturday mornings -except once he gets into that schedule, he'll be waking me at 6:30 every Saturday. Blah.

I have some good news. I'm going to be working on illustrating a children's book. A new author. I've been working on my sketches for almost two weeks. I've submitted copies of older work, and then submitted my preliminary sketches to the author. He was quite pleased. We seem to be incredibly like minded on our vision for the main character and other aspects of the illustrations. Of course there'll be no immediate income from this (we have to get a publisher first), but it will just be exciting to finally use my creative side in a professional setting. The author is located in Australia so communication will mainly be over the internet. We're looking to publish both in Australia and here in the States. We're also considering a Spanish translation to be marketed in Spain -you do know I speak Spanish fluently don't you?

Well, I'm off to do some dinner prep and then my sketching. Have a great evening!

A few words on Celibacy -YES you read that right! ;)

Celibacy can be a choice in life, or a condition imposed by environmental encounters:

While attending a Marriage Encounter Weekend, Walter and his wife Ann, listened to the instructor declare, > > >"It is essential that husbands and wives know the things that are important to each other." He addressed the men, "Can you name and describe your wife's favorite flower?" With a sweet smile on his face, Walter leaned over touched Ann's arm gently and whispered, "Pillsbury All-purpose, isn't it?" And thus began Walter's life of celibacy.

When I first finished reading this, passionate cook that I am, I thought, "Well I'd be really tickled if Hubby remembered my favorite brand of flour."

One more...

The River

Three men were hiking through a forest when they came upon a large
raging violent river.

Needing to get on the other side, the first man prayed,
"God,please give me the strength to cross the river."

Poof! God gave him big arms and strong legs and he was able to swim
across in about 2 hours, having almost drowned twice.

After witnessing that, the second man prayed,
"God, please give me strength and the tools to cross the river."

Poof! God gave him a rowboat and strong arms and strong legs and he
was able to row across in about an hour after almost capsizing once.

Seeing what happened to the first two men, the third man prayed,
God, please give me the strength, the tools and the intelligence to
cross the river.

" Poof! He was turned into a woman. She checked the map, hiked
one hundred yards up stream and walked across the bridge.

Let me just tell you, I'm no man basher, so please don't attack me with anti-woman jokes. I just thought this was cute.

Well if Life's Little Obligations Keep up, I'll Never Have Time to Blog

I have to mow today. It's rained for the last six days, on and off continuously every day. I've loved the rain because at least the temperature dropped for a while, but it did nothing for the humidity. It's just as nasty icky sticky here as ever. I dream of the delicious dry 100 degree weather of our home in Mexico, when I have to deal with the sticky nastiness of suffocating humidity at 92 degrees. Humidity screws with my hair, makes me grouchy, makes me feel continuously uncomfortable -and based on this post, pretty damned whiny too.

I'll be outside sweating, getting covered in Mosquitos, bits of leaves, and sticks leftover from the storms we've had. I hope I can survive to tell the tale of the Battle of the HR Lady versus Tall Fescue, the struggle continues.

BTW, I didn't forget to post yesterday, I had Mass, then took communion to the Nursing Home patients. When I got done there I went to Sam's Club, lost my keys while there, panicked when I got to the van and couldn't put away my rapidly defrosting raindrop coated foods. Went back inside and checked Customer Service, the restroom, and considered racing up and down the aisles and through the freezers searching for the keys, when little Mr. I'll-be-9-in-22-days-can-you-buy-this-for-my-birthday? said, "Hey Mom! Maybe we left them at the drink counter." We went there and there was a line about 12 people long. I bobbed and weaved and desperately tried to get the guy at the register to look at me. He freakin' would NOT look at me (see, I am invisible) until finally a nice lady in the line about four people back said, "Did you lose something?" I gratefully said as loud as I could (so pimple face behind the counter couldn't fail to hear me, afterall, maybe I'm invisible, but I do have a loud mouth), "YES! I think maybe I left my car keys here!" At long last the kid casually (and so slowly that I think I could have actually dived across the counter and strangled him in the time it took him) slid his hand beneath the counter and pulled out my keys.

I'd started out the day with a sinus headache, hadn't taken any medicine and the stress of the lost keys tensed me up and turned it into a migraine. I was miserable on the 1/2 hour drive home. The light from the gloomy rain sopped sky was too bright for my migraine-suffering-gritty eyes. My stomach felt sick. I thought I might have to pull over because I felt like I was going to pass out. It had been 7 hours since breakfast, I thought maybe it was worse because I hadn't eaten. In desperation I stopped at a McDonald's (I would have to be desperate to eat that). McBig McMistake. Mickey D's always upsets my stomach. I was really really feeling sick on the way home. If it weren't for the melting groceries I might have pulled over at one of the parks on the way home. I went home, dragged the cold and frozen foods inside and left everything else in the back of the minivan. I hurriedly shoved everything pelmel into the fridge and freezer. I didn't even repackage my meat. Small son knows how sick I get from these headaches. How really bad they can be, sometimes going on for days without cease, so powerful that I can't even sleep for more than minutes at a time. He brought me his comforter from his room and his "special pillow." He's such a good boy. I took an Aleve Sinus Headache tablet and lay on the couch for two and a half hours. Of course, the phone rang relentlessly -it only ever rings when I'm not feeling well and laying down, or terribly busy. I did not answer it. I slept in 1/2 hour spurts. When I woke I had still had the headache, but it had subsided considerably. The nausea was gone. I no longer felt like I was going to faint.

I had to rush to prepare dinner, shelled some zipper peas, cooked up some rice, a Rotisserie Chicken that I'd had the sense to pick up from Sam's Club had only to be reheated. I went to bed early last night. The headache is still there a little bit. Maybe mowing will make me forget it.

Monday Mayberry Moments Volume -who knows? I lost count.

This week's volume of Monday Mayberry Moments is being brought to you courtesty of the Associate Press. No, it didn't happen here in Mayberry, but it's just goofy and rednecked enough that it could have.

Man Accused of Hitting Woman With Gator

PORT ORANGE, Fla. (AP) - A man hit his girlfriend with a 3-foot alligator and threw beer bottles at her during an argument in the couple's mobile home, authorities said.

David Havenner, 41, was ordered held without bond Saturday on misdemeanor charges of battery and possession of an alligator.

The alligator, which Havenner had been keeping in his bathtub, was turned over to Florida wildlife officials.

Nancy Monico, 39, told investigators that Havenner beat her with his fists, then grabbed the alligator and swung it at her as she tried to escape, sheriff's spokesman Gary Davidson said. She said the animal hit her at least once. She also told authorities that Havenner threw empty beer bottles at her, Davidson said.

Havenner's version of the story differed. He told investigators that Monico bit his hand because she was upset that they had run out of alcohol.

Actually this is the first I've ever heard of an Alligator being used as a weapon.

Detective: Well, have you identified the cause of that erratic reptilian bruising?

Coroner: Well, oddly enough I've identified the scaling as that of a North American Swamp Dwelling Alligator of the Mayberry region of Southwestern Florida. I still can't understand why this woman would have repeatedly rolled herself across it's body.

Detective: It's a puzzler. But what would you say was the cause of death?

Coroner: Death by blunt reptile.

Last Ten Google Searches Finding this Blog:

Last 10 Search Terms:

18/07/2004 16:18:40	swiffer danger (Google)
18/07/2004 14:46:01	Pictures and Photographs of Mary-Kate and boyfriend David Katzenberg (Google)
18/07/2004 14:38:12	britneys tattoo (Google)
18/07/2004 11:56:12	pictures of kevin federline (Google)
18/07/2004 07:53:45	photographs chad michael murray (Google)
18/07/2004 07:04:29	to see invisible yahoo (Google)
18/07/2004 03:14:45	Ashley simpson, what%27s her new boyfriends name%3F (Google)
18/07/2004 02:56:36	mary kate anorexic pics (Google)
18/07/2004 02:37:49	mary-kate anorexic pictures (Google)
18/07/2004 00:41:39	Mary kate olsen scary pictures pics (AOL)

MMMmmmmmmm....JAVALICIOUS

After all the talk by
Barrie,
Amanda,
Scooterdeb, and CK
(who doesn't seem to have a blog), I just had to stop and pick up a
Mocha Moolatte between running into Wally World, through the car
wash, and into the video store in downtown Mayberry.







BTW, I'll continue to accept questions for Ask HR Ladies Hubby through
Sunday afternoon. Hurry and get them in if you've got
questions. Scroll down to read previous questions and their
answers.

Ask HR Lady's Hubby CONTINUED...

Wendy asked:

I have a question for him: How much wood would a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood?

I just want to see how you'll translate that into Spanish. Hee-hee.

HR LADy tells him the question -the way it should be told -THREE TIMES REALLY FAST

I don't know what you say so fast.

HR LADY translates/explains, Honey, en español es como: ?Cuanto
madera cortare una marmota, si una marmota podria cortar madera?, pero
esa es una trabalengua que hacen en Ingles como: Tres tristes tigres tragaban trigo en un trigal.

BTW, those word in RED are a Spanish Tongue Twister -known as a Trabalengua.

And after all of that translation we get the answer from hubby:

"Enough wood what you need, no?"

Fi asked:

HR Lady's Husband, what is your favourite reality TV show?

Forensic files, I thin. Mebe Cold Case File, yuu no thay
mek yuu to figure it ou a leetle bit and so many case is still cold ou
thare. Wha, she is som kinuh psykeek?

Then HR Lady (after laughing hysterically) explains why she's doing the
Ask Hubby thing, "No, honey, es qui mis amigos que hacen los "blogs" a
veces permiten a sus leedores a preguntar unas preguntas a sus esposos,
o mama, o otra persona. Y yo tengo que escribir todo lo que dices
tu."

"Oh, and then yuu going to write tha ovr thare tha I ask she is psykeek? Oh, honey!"

GaryBibb asked:

HRLady's hubby, what is the meaning of pie?

What language is tha? Cake?

Hubby looks at comments box then says:

Oh, wai, mebe he try to say foot?

Hads asked:

HR Lady's hubby do you enjoy a meal without tortillas and hot chilis?

Just the chili sauce? Yes.

He first thought Hads was referring to Texas Chili, as opposed to chili
peppers -he's not used to Anglos using the term chilis to actually mean
chili peppers, eventhough that's how we talk here at home. And
then HR Lady explains further, "Quiere saber si disfrutas una comida
sin tortilla y sin chili jalapeño?"

I thin I enjoy any kine o food any meal withou tortilla withou
jalapeño, if is not pohseebull in tha momen. Yeah, caus I
remember almost 18 years ago when I com ovr heer, you not even fine
tortilla or even jalapeño in the store.

Thomas asked:

HR Lady's hubby, how is it living with a goddess?

What he's talkin' about tripas? (SIDE NOTE: Tripas are
intestines, stomach, etc. -you know guts -so I said, GODDESS and he
heard GUTS)

Then HR Lady explains what a goddess is, "Si quieren decir
literalmente, un "goddess" es como un Dios feminina, pero de veras, El
quiere decir que yo soy un godess figurativo -como yo soy bella, buena,
sexy, perfecta mujer."

Oh, thas what is? Thas steel (still) in
Latin? So he wanna know hows feel to live with it? I can
say -excitin, cause you spoil me too much, so often you have surprise
for me, no? And besides that you try to unnerstan me when I am
grouchy. And I think it's time to go to bed honey."

And with that HR Lady smiled real big and hurried to get off of the computer and into the bed.

Keep sending your questions. He's really having fun with
this. More Ask HR Lady's Hubby tomorrow. Have a great
night. I know I will.

Latest Searches Finding this site AND Ask HR Lady's Hubby Continued...

invisible jacket (Google)

Frogs arm bruise (Google)

Don't worry, you haven't missed out on Ask HR Lady's Hubby. You may continue to submit your questions for Hubby. I'll print answers here as I obtain them from Hubby. I kind of think at the moment he's enjoying being a part of things, but again I warn -careful with those questions lest I be forever banished from blogging. ;)

Last night he received and answered two questions before he went to bed:

Barrie asked: HR Lady's Hubby, what is your Wu-Name?
Hubby said, "My Wha? I doan no what is tha honi."

*HR Lady explaining and showing him and putting his name into the machine in various ways* "Es una cosa aqui en la computadora que cambia tu nombre, se llama, 'WU-NAME'." I get a very bewildered look and get impatient (I'm such a pain in the ass sometimes), "Ven aca. Es una maquina aqui en la computadora que hace nombres. Tienes que verla." He finally came over to the computer and He really seemed to enjoy this, especially after the first result. He got into it and had me enter our son's name and a nickname his mother used for him when he was little. Here are his results:

HR Lady's you will also be known as Crazy Samurai.
HR Lady's Hubby=Intellectual Demon
His real name=Irate Specialist
His nickname=Javi equals Phantom Mercenary

Next, Amanda asked:
HRLady's husband, would you really forever remove HRLady from blogging?

Let me just tell you, Amanda Darling, that I really wondered if I was treading thin ice with this one.

If I lep you wha? She wanz no wha?

*HR Lady explains at length in Spanish what blogging is, cuz he totally doesn't get it in English* "Ella quiere saber si nunca jamas hacerlo que no mas puedo escribir in my "blog", porque talvez no gustas el tipo de las preguntas que estan preguntando. Le avisaba, que si preguntan malas palabras, talvez me quitas de la computadora para siempre."

"Oh. No."

HR Lady: But let me just tell you people... It may look for now like I'm in the clear but this man will sit thinking about that question when he's out there alone on the Dragline. In three days he'll be asking me about that question again, "Why honi, thay thin, tha I wan take you ou from de compyutare? Wha egzacly you doin in thare?" And then Little Amanda's gonna either be in big trouble, or I'll just suddenly disappear from blogland. LOL ;)

Okay, people, keep sending your questions, I'll keep asking them. To make sure you don't submit a repeat question, scroll down and read last night's post and comments.

First Ever Edition of Ask Hubby

Okay, so I sometimes feel like I just don't have anything cool or interesting enough to blog about. A bunch of bloggers do occasionally have an "Ask so and so" post, so I thought I'd do it. Mine should be interesting because you get hubby's occasionally peculiar perspective on American culture and I'll right it in the vernacular so that when you're reading it you can actually imagine the accent. It's like being married to Ricky Ricardo, only he doesn't start yelling at me in Spanish.

Ask away, but be careful, lest Hubby forever remove me from blogging. I will do my best to get answers to all your questions.

How dumb are blondes?

And BEFORE you start in on me, you'd better know that, (a) I'm almost blonde myself -you figure out whether I mean that literally or figuratively, (b) I'm not the one who did the research, (c) it's all in fun and scientifically based.

Apparently according to these researchers telling a blonde a joke actually makes her DUMBER. Don't jump on me, click and read the article.

Well, I've found my Wu-name...

courtesy of Barrie.

My Wu-names are:

HR Lady=Fanatical Commander

The short version of my actual name=Happy Beggar

My maiden name=Lazy-assed Bandit

My full name (which is hyphenated)=Erratic Mercenary


So there you have it folks, in all I am: Fanatical Commander Happy Beggar Lazy-assed Bandit Erratic Mercenary

Get your WU-NAME here.

Don't forget to scroll down and read my last post about Swans.

BTW...

Did you know that swans are the only birds with a penis?

I learned that from Kim. She's a wealth of knowledge. About penises, anyway. ;)

Why did Cousin Zeke run from me when I passed gas?

I just want to know if he quit smoking after that? They're not commenting on his injuries, but I'd sure like to know what they were.

I do NOT have:

13/07/2004 18:02:56
photos of olsens nude (Google)

Despite what my searches are bringing up my site. So for all you perverts out there (and, no, I don't mean my regular readers) move on.

Okay, so I found this at Kim's (and Darin's, but it's really mostly Kim's) Place. I don't know how she comes up with these things. And she's always got something new, me I've got beans.

Let me know what your test results are.

Is the glass half full?

Results of "The Test"

How optimistic are you?

Your score = 80


What does your score mean?
Wow; you are one walking ball of sunshine! In almost any situation, you're able to see the world through rose-colored glasses. Either you truly believe that things tend to work out for the best and simply put your faith in the universe, or you have learned to use the power of positive thinking to your full advantage. Whatever the root of your eternal optimism, your approach is surely giving you an edge over all the Negative Neds and Nancys out there; research has proven that expecting the best creates a sort of self-fulfilling prophecy. You believe, for example, that the attractive stranger at a party really will call and in turn you come across as confident and approachable. You are able to look on the bright side in even the grimmest of situations and therefore manage to get something positive out of them. You know the deal - when life hands you lemon, make lemonade. Don't go changin'!

PS: Today we mourn the loss of Weezie (Isabelle Sanford, isn't it?) from the Jeffersons. I really loved that woman and the way she put her ignorant little husband in his place. I smell a TV Land "The Jeffersons'" Marathon this weekend.

Monday Mayberry Moments, III; Brought to you this week by the US Postal Service, "WE DON'T DELIVER"

Yes, folks, time for yet another exciting and red neck filled issue of Monday Mayberry Moments. And, as you might have guessed, this weeks Moment was provoked by the USPS. And this time it's the other way around, I'M GOING POSTAL!

I ordered a bunch of toys from an online toy store for my kid's birthday. I received a confirmation e-mail that they were shipped. I purposely ordered them very early so I wouldn't have to be troubled with worrying over getting them delivered in a timely fashion -or at least that's what I thought. Boy was I ever wrong.

Gosh darn, freakin' &#*@&%^%$%*&*&^^(&#^Q%@#^%Q*@^#*&@#^@^#&#&%^!%Q*$*#$&(*!@%^^$$$(&*(*()@#^@$^&& Mayberry Post Office. On Wednesday of last week I stayed home all day. I had lots to do around the house and didn't feel like going out into the furnace that is the Florida Outdoors anyway. I went about my business and performed various domestic duties throughout the day. I hadn't really given much thought to the mail delivery.

Around four o' clock in the afternoon I went out to get my mail and found the usual bills PLUS (imagine me pounding out the keys in anger as I tell this) a "Sorry We Missed You!" note from the post office. I WAS HOT. And I'm not referring to the 95 degree weather. I was p-ed right off. I never left the house. No one came to the door. My doorbell works very well. I even rang it several times to prove it (while cussing the big lazy fat butt postal employee who couldn't get his big butt out of the itty bitty mail jeep to walk to my door). I was very, Very, VEry, VERy, VERY ANGRY. But I finally chilled and figured, "Oh okay, it is a substitute, my normal mail carrier is a really nice girl. I won't make waves THIS TIME."

I signed the little "Sign here to Authorize Redelivery or to Authorize an Agent to Sign for You:" thingy and stuck it in the mailbox with the flag up. I knew this son of a gun had been showing up every day around 1:30 (THREE hours later than my usual mail carrier), so I lay in wait. Hovering near the bay window in the dining room, assigning my son the "watch for the mailman" duty whenever I needed to use the bathroom, or run the vacuum, I was on stakeout. This guy was not going to pull another, "Ooops nobody's home," on me. He took the little note out of the box and drove away. I stood glaring at him from the kitchen window. He drove off -and I swear he kept my Newseek magazine for an extra day so he could read it.

I figured, "Okay, he hasn't got it with him today." The next day I went through the whole same routine. Again, no package. As soon as I noted the lack of package, I went tearing out the front door, rushing up the driveway to catch and question him. Yes, I know it sounds nutty, but I was having no more of this lazy bugger. But he was one up on me, apparently those Mail Jeeps have Turbo Power. He actually freakin' floored it off the street.

If I was hot before, I was then BOILING. It's now been three delivery days and the son of a peach WILL NOT GET OUT OF THAT FREAKIN' JEEP AND DELIVER MY GORP FORSAKEN PACKAGE. I'd had it. Still, I don't believe in killing the messenger. I phoned my fiendish neighborhood postal facility. I got to speak to Wanda Beabitch. I calmly began explaining what was going on. I tried to explain that, when I'm sitting at home all day, I don't expect to find "Sorry We Missed You!" notes in my mailbox. I couldn't even get finished this nasty snotty #*&%^@!#$% started shouting over me. Freakin' SHOUTING at ME?!?!?!? Why was I being polite?

She's screaming at me, "YOU NEED TO GIVE HIM A CHANCE, HE'S NEW. HE HAS TO HAVE TIME TO LEARN." Now I said to her, "EXCUSE ME," just as loudly as I could, since her particular favorite thing is shouting over people I figured I'd go ahead and accomodate her and I continued, "LYING about whether or not a customer is home is not a TRAINING issue." Would you believe this bitch had the nerve to keep screaming at me? So (since I can really have a big mouth when my buttons are pushed), I SCREAMED AT HER. I SCREAMED, "EXCUSE ME, BUT YOU ARE NOT GOING TO SCREAM at ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! She shut up for a millisecond, but that was all I needed.

I asked for the postal inspector. She claimed that, since we're such a SMALL facility, they only come out of request. I told her that I guessed I would be having to call them then. Her smart little ass told me, "YOU GO RIGHT AHEAD," with the snottiest, bitchiest tone she could muster. I hung up and immediately called the Postal Inspector. They listened to me at length and agreed that both the carrier and the bitch at the office were wrong. They offered to discipline both. I was very pleased. They took an extensive report. I enjoyed every minute of it.

Eventhough I go there occasionally, I have no idea who Wanda Beabitch is. I will take great pleasure in identifying her on my next trip (by her name tag). I will walk right up to her with a giant gleam in my eye. With a triumphant smile I will say, "Ah, Wanda. I've wanted to meet you. I'm HR LADY from County Road here in Mayberry. I just wanted to shake your hand and say, "You fought the bitch and the bitch won."

Don't ever push my buttons. AND don't ever scream over me. I WILL get good customer service every place I deal with, or the bitch will break loose and wreak havoc. ;)

At the end of the world I will apparently be...

Harmony. It's inner peace for you, or at least
trying to find it. The shell you live your life
in is akin to monks of old. You'd be more
comfortable if things were less stressed and
made a little more sense, so you try to get
just that. You survive the end by not letting
it happen. You didn't stop it, but you
supported those who did. I'm glad you took a
break from meditation to take the quiz...


How would you survive the end of the world?
brought to you by Quizilla

PS: I originally saw this at Cheese Stands Alone, who found it at Quizilla -I think.

I fought the lawn and ...

I won!!!

Actually, yesterday I was unable to mow because the pull cord thingy ended up getting caught under the other thingy inside the housing. Hubby had to fix it last night.

This morning (on a Saturday of all days) I got up early and mowed. I'm done. I got very dirty and sweaty, but not bug eaten. I'm now showered and drinking three or four hundred gallons of icy cold water. I want to run into town and get a movie, but I'm achy as heck and not at all sure there's anything we'd want to watch. Hubby's working late today.

Tomorrow we're going to the beach. BTW, in case you don't know, tomorrow is 7-11. If you go to a 7-11 convenience store anytime after 11:00 a.m. they give a bunch of stuff away. Last year it was hot dogs, slushies, etc. I only know this because 7-11 is hubby's anniversary of becoming a Permanent Resident (this is an Immigration term -hubby has lived in this country for more than 20 years), which means just about one more year and he'll be eligible for citizenship at long last. And he makes for such a good and patriotic American. And a super hubby.

Okay, if I think of the terribly amusing story that I thought of late last night, I'll post again later. Right now I'm tired and achy -you're right Zoe, one with a bad back is not meant to be mowing.

Hi Ho Hi Ho, It's off to...

Mow I go. Okay. I want to give my husband a break this weekend. I don't want him to have to mow.

I have a bad back and knee trouble. I really shouldn't mow, but I tried it the other day and I was only in pain for two days, so I want to do just a little more.

The other day, just starting the darn thing I injured myself. I'm a clutz. I'm uncoordinated. I have no upper arm strength. The rip cord thingy went flying wildly and slammed into the fleshy part of my arm. I big wopping purple bruise appeared on my arm. I'm a little worried about starting the lawn mower this morning.

I'm going to dowse myself in mosquito repellent.

Yesterday...

was essentially a pretty dull day. I fooled around reading blogs. I thoroughly enjoyed listening to the hellacious storm that raged on for hours -pouring rain, crashing thunder and lightning (that felt like it was shaking the house it was so close). And I read a novel for a while, "Murder in the Hearse Degree" by Tim Cockey. Then I lay on the couch half watching a movie on Bravo (or was it Trio?) and half continuing to read the novel until I fell off to a nap.

For dinner I made steak tacos from some excellently marinated steak prepared by moi. During dinner I received a phone call that kind of upset me. This really sweet old lady at the nursing home that I regularly visit with our church group had passed away. It's pretty hard to get that kind of news over the phone. For the first minute I was just shocked and I thanked my friend Gloria for letting me know and hung up.

Then I started telling my hubby about the lady and that was it. I just started crying. I couldn't eat my dinner. I felt bad that I hadn't seen her in two weeks. I was mourning her all of a sudden and I felt like I'd only just started getting to know her. I had to leave the table to cry and pray and ended up not finishing my dinner -though I did eventually come back to the table. I'm really okay with it now though. I was very lucky to know her. I never really had real grandparents and it was always so nice listening to her talk about the old days. And in the end she was telling me that she was ready to go to God. So she has peace now. I dread the funeral. Funerals destroy me.

This morning I'll be off to Mass and then back home to figure out what the heck I'm making for dinner. I don't have any good ideas right now. Probably something grilled. I need to use up my potatoes before the start growing out of the potato bin. Maybe mashed potatoes? No sure I'm in the mood for that. Too early to think about dinner. I haven't even eaten breakfast yet.

Apparently, I'm surrounded by idiots

I read this at IllusionaryLunch's site. I was pretty surprised to read this on his (I'm assuming sex)site, since that town is only 15 minutes outside of Mayberry.

I don't begin to know what to say about it. The kid impaled himself on the tusk of a Mahogany Elephant sitting in their living room.

Okay you may now beat me with a wet noodle

I'm late with this post because...

My name is HR Lady and I'm a Sam's-Club-aholic. I can not get enough of the Bulk Buying Madness that is Warehouse Club Shopping. I go in for $44 dollars of stuff -Milk (cuz that's the cheapest place in the whole world to buy it -$3/gal), Clorox Disinfecting Wipes (because my real name is Messy Molly and they're practically half price at Sam's), Eggs (Cheaper than raising chickens -which is really saying something if you look at the price in the supermarket), Rolls (cheap and the best bread you can find around here), and Orange Juice (Way Ultra Cheap and it's the good stuff). I leave two hours later with $150 worth of stuff.

I bought a 6lb package of boneless breasts (which I repackage when I get them home), avocados, a mega-giant tub of pretzels, a mega-giant tub of biscotti for my sweet little hubby, some really yummy pre-cooked just heat it up Chicken Fried Rice (I've never been good at making that -mine comes out all crappy), some really yummy sounding Cool Cucumber and Feta Dip (I'll let ya know), a Rotisserie Chicken (cuz I spent too much time shopping and forgot to marinate my meat -and, Brian, I won't say whether or not that's a euphemism), a case of a kajillion 16 oz spring waters (we must hydrate ourselves), 1 1/2 lbs of Fresh Baby Spinach (for the Sauteed Spinach I made with dinner), some kind of avocado dip stuff (and if Amanda were coming I wouldn't serve it, cuz I know she's scared of avocado after a trip to Chipotle's over the weekend, though I would serve it to Scooterdeb cuz she's not even afraid of TAC), and a special birthday present for small son's 9th birthday (which I won't name here cuz small son is unbearably nosy and apt to read over my shoulder -if ya really need to know, e-mail me). And I think that's it, but how am I to remember?

I've got promises to keep and Chicken Breasts to re-wrap before I sleep.

Monday Mayberry Moments Volume II

First let me apologize for the lateness of the post, had another one of those debilitating headaches last night through this afternoon. And so to continue the saga of crime fighting in Mayberry, let me tell you about the first time we saw the Mayberry Police Station (not to be confused with the Mayberry Sheriff's Office).

Being very religious (though far from perfect Christians) and very committed to attending Mass regularly, one of the very first places we sought out when we came into town was the St. Mayberry Catholic Church. We had a mild amount of difficulty locating it and, as a consequence, were wandering the streets of Mayberry. When finally we appeared to be on the right track (pun sad but intended) after we crossed the Railroad Tracks that divide the town, we noticed a little beige double wide trailer with hunter green trim. There were three or four cars parked on the side and two police cars out front.

Before we actually passed the building and were able to view the sign out front, Hubby said, "What is that? Some kind of little restaurant or something?" We got a little closer and read the sign, "Mayberry Police Department".

Yes folks, in hurricane and tropical storm torn Florida, our police station is located in a double wide trailer. All I can think is, "What's the Mayor's house like?" and, "Okay, so if there were a state of emergency due to the weather, would the police be able to help, or would they be too busy evacuating themselves?"

Though not nearly as exciting as last week, that's life in Mayberry and I'm the HR Lady. Have a great evening.

A Guest Post from HR Lady's Hubby

Ah, I want to know if any of you people have cats. I have a question for you.

If you get up early in the morning or in the middle of the night when your cat is sleeping and turn on the light, does your cat use its paw to cover its eyes? Because Señora Kitty does that all of the time. And it makes me laugh.

Also, when she's sitting watching whatever we're doing, she sits with her paws crossed in front of her like she's some kind of princess. Do your cats do this (if you have cats)?

The above post is a guest post and in no way reflects in the views or opinions of the HR Lady. Any silliness or perceived overinvolvement in the life of Miss Kitty is entirely the opinion of the Guest Post. HR Lady will not be held responsibly for the crazed rantings of her Hubby.

Apparently, if I had a penis...

it's name would be, " Colonel Sanders the Ever-ready TrouserSnake" -this according to Name your Penis, the name generator. And I'm not even from Kentucky like Scooterdeb. Go try it and let me know, what it names your penis (real or, like mine, imaginary).

Let me let you in on a little secret...

Eventhough I'm actually pretty intelligent, I have my airheaded moments. And sometimes I realize my mistake right away -or someone points it out to me rather swiftly (sadly, often enough it's my I'm-going-to-be-9-in-only-41-days-Mom son). Of course I'm red faced and vow everytime that next time I will think things through before blurting things out or tilting my head to the side and saying in my best airheaded bubbly voice, I don't understand?" And yes I meant that question mark. I hate admitting when I don't get something, but it's worse when I would have gotten it if only I'd engaged my brain before speaking.

What's really amusing about this is that my husband doesn't always pick up on my airheadedness. Hubby wasn't born here and is still learning alot of our expressions (eventhough we've been together 7 years, you'd think he'd know everything by now, wouldn't you?), especially since we've moved to the South and there are a whole new bunch of odd little sayings people use down here.

So last night he comes home and while we're waiting for dinner and he's telling me about his day, "Rock crusher...and when I was running the drag line...and John said...and the cable broke so I...and I told Tim...", I guess you can tell I pretty much tuned out most of it. Half of it is Lime Mine tech crap that I only half understand (which is already twice what I ever feel the need to understand) and the other half is the same stuff he runs on and on about everyday. Then he says, "Honey, do you know what that means? People around here catch frogs?" Of course there was more before that, but I'd kind of been only half listening. I did my usual reconnaisance, "Who said that? And is that exactly what he said?" Which means he repeats everything and I don't have to admit to tuning half of it out. He says that Tim (or somebody who knows?) was telling him about a guy that used to work there. Then hubby says, "The guy said, 'Yeah, but he ended up leaving.' and so I (hubby) asked him why and he said, 'He was really good at catching frogs and now he's gone."

Last night, dingbat that I was, I said, "Oh, maybe there's a lab around here that buys frogs if you catch them. I wonder how much they pay?" And I was thinking of the 82 zillion frogs and toads all over our yard -tons of them. You can't even move anything without the jumpin' out at ya. Last night I unscrewed the top of the patio light to replace the bulb and three of them little suckers jumped toward my face. I almost fell off my stepladder. But I digress...

Of course hubby thinks I'm brilliant and I know everything (I trained him so well!!!) so he didn't give it much more thought. But this morning while I was cleaning the house, I thought about it. I knew what this guy was saying. He was saying that the moron who used to work there wasn't good for anything but catching frogs -that the guy wasn't too bright. Why didn't I pick up on that last night? Well other than airheadedness my only possible explanation was that I'd disengaged my brain.

So now you have it folks, a new Mayberryism and it's not even Monday. The next time you're speaking of some useless dipshit just say, "Oh him? He's real good at catchin' frogs and that's about it."

Okay, I'll have to catch ya later. I've got promises to keep and frogs to catch before I sleep. And frogs to catch before I sleep.

I'm ...

in a really pissy mood. Every tiny little thing is irritating the shit out of me, but I'm trying really hard to just keep it to myself lest I be Queen Bitch to my good (though so overly rambunctious that I'm ripping my hair out) little boy and my wonderful husband.

To paraphrase my bloggy buddy Amanda, I'm "on the fence-edge" of a real bitch attack. And I need to get over it.

Wouldn't it be great if there were people around that you could pay to be your verbal punching bag? I'm not sure I wouldn't still feel terribly bad about it later, but I just need to get my internal bitch out. Cuz everything I'm feeling bitchy about is stupid little nothing shit.

I am the QUEEN...

Of marinades. After making my own marinade yesterday, I left my breasts marinating overnight and they are so tender and juicy. I can't wait to have dinner.

The Glorious Fourth

So we won't really do anything extravagant for the Fourth of July. Probably grill something. I haven't decided what yet, maybe pork roast, maybe steaks, possibly chicken. We're not drinkers -I have had the same bottle of wine for going on four months. Hubby still hasn't finished the six pack I picked up nearly two months ago. I did pick up a few little fireworks -don't ask me what they are, I don't even know; I grew up in Jersey where it's illegal to have them, so my mother wouldn't let us have them.

I don't like to go anywhere on The Fourth because of drunk drivers, traffic, etc. And since The Fourth falls on a Sunday this year, hubby will want to rest. Sunday is his regular day off. He doesn't get an extra day.

The lawn needs mowing. He'll probably do that tomorrow afternoon or Saturday afternoon. I wish kids still went around asking for lawn mowing jobs like in the good old days. My back and knee problems don't allow me to push the mower without days of unbearable pain, and we haven't bought a ride on yet. I hate that he has to do yard work after putting all thos hours in at work all week. But he's such a good guy, if it weren't yard work he'd be doing something else -building a shed. Enclosing the open porch off of the kid's room. The only time he relaxes is when I make him stop to eat or sleep.

Any great DVD recommendations? We watched Fifty First Dates last week. I enjoyed it. So what is everyone else doing for Independence Day? What kind of salads and meats and sides are you having at the barbecue, if you're barbecuing?