Easy and Fast Weight Loss Product! *Snicker*

You probably get them, too: Those coupons and advertisements that are stuck inside the newspaper you subscribe to. Sometimes they are for cat litter or plastic wrap, other times they are for diapers or pretzel m&m's (Thank You, Sweet Jesus!). The rest of the time they manage to sneak in some weird items that I seriously wonder who buys them in the first place--like the Princess Diana doll in her wedding dress or the limited edition commemorative Wizard of Oz plates, or some such nonsense.

Oh, but wait!  I have found the ultimate coupon ad product.  Behold:

Yes, you, too, can shed unwanted pounds by wearing a muumuu.

Let's analyze some of the claims on this ad:
1.  It's called "figure-flattering," "slimming," "luxurious," and "elegant."

Yep, 'cause nothing says svelte more than looking like Mrs. Roper:

2.  "Look slimmer in an instant" and "The pounds seem to disappear as soon as you put [it] on."
Uh huh.  A tarp pretty much accomplishes the same thing if you throw it over something, the something disappears.  I'm just sayin'.
3.  That "model" has man feet.  EWW.
4."Perfect...for entertaining at home--even pretty enough for candlelight dinners!"  Now, I don't eat my dinners by candlelight very often, but I'm pretty certain that the muumuu is fairly unlikely to inspire romance.  I would be afraid those giant sleeves would catch on fire!
5.  "Perfect for all day wear." Yes, especially if you weren't planning on taking off your pajamas that day, anyhow.


Perhaps a more effective way to market this would be to say, "Muumuus:  'Cause you aren't even trying anymore, are ya?"

Two things...

One:
This picture was taken today.  TODAY.  Jason gave me this balloon on Valentines' Day.

It refuses to die.  I hate to be crude, but I'm wondering what kind of balloon viagra they put in this thing.

Two:

It's official.

I have reached the "Bless Your Heart" stage of pregnancy. 

All old ladies say that to me, first thing. 

I had a lady tell me yesterday that I looked like I was about to "pop wide-open."  Thanks, lady.  REALLY.

For the record, I'm told I have about 7 weeks to go.

More pictures are unlikely.

I do not own a wide-angle lens.

If you blog it, they will read it.

This is the same look my "Blogger" button gives me every time I get on the computer lately.  It's not that I don't love blogging and/or have nothing to write about.  It's more like every time I sit down, I start to fall asleep due to my sweet, energy-sucking, precious, unborn child.

I've started using the "notes" feature on my iPhone so that I could remember details of some of the crazy stuff that's been going on in my life lately.  Goodness knows that Swiss cheese-brain-pregnant woman is NOT going to remember any details.

For example, back in early February, Jason and I attended a country music concert put on by Miranda Lambert and Brad Paisley.  I am not the country music fan in the family, so it was a bit of a unique experience for me.  But we are over a month past the concert, so I feel like it would be wrong to blog about it now!  So, instead, I will give you these "gems" that I felt it was necessary for my readers to know.  (If they don't make sense to you, that's okay.  I probably don't remember what was meant by them, either.)

• Drunk chicks know every word to all songs ever written.
• Gangster rap played in the parking lot before a country music show is weird.
• "Yee-ha" is the only acceptable battle cry at this concert.
• "This girl next to me just hollered like a scalded dog."--Jason  (This is my favorite quote, EVER!)
• (After seeing drunk girl eating mayonnaise on French fries)  "Bet she's gonna see that again later."--Jason
• Largest assembly of dancing mullet women on earth.
• Got kicked in the shoulder by drunk girl standing on the back of my seat when she fell on the guy next to me
• Miranda Lambert is a bitter and angry woman.

See? I told you that you needed to know these things.

Another note on my phone is about what happened to Luke and I a couple of weeks ago when he had strep.  After we left the doctor's office, he wanted to eat at a steak restaurant that allows you to throw peanut shells on the floor.  (We only eat at THE classiest establishments.)  These were the "pertinent" details about the family that sat behind us:

• Please make your kid stop screaming in my ear.
• I never thought I'd be one of "those" people that complain about other people's kids in a restaurant.
• "Bite?  Bite?  Bite?"  (Hard poke in my back)--what the kid kept saying when our food came out.
• I cannot believe they are letting a two year old drink straight out of a Heinz 57 bottle.
• A Heinz 57 bottle was never meant to be used as a hammer.
• Who's surprised that the kid just smashed his fingers?  Not me.
• Yelling a kid's name (Bryson) 800 times is not the way to get them to hush crying.
• Letting a kid "scream it out" in a restaurant is hardly appropriate.
• No matter how many times you say, "Bryson, you are usually good in here.  You don't usually do this in this restaurant," it's not going to help.  GET UP out of your seat.  Leave the fried pickles on the table and go comfort your kid.
• Please don't let your kid stab me in the back with a butter knife.
• Please apologize when your kid stabs me in the back with a butter knife.
• "I guess you better get used to this, huh, Mommy?"--Luke  (Again, it's a good thing he's cute.)

Could you have lived the rest of your life without knowing this?  Yeah, I didn't think so.

Finally, we have what I looked like last Sunday morning:

Here you have what I actually felt like:

Now, aren't you glad you spent time reading this?

I know.
I'm sorry. 
You will never get this time back.

Have a great weekend!

Call off the bloodhounds...I'm right here!

Wow.

When blogging ONCE a week becomes a struggle, you might as well just quit. I've had lots to blog about lately, but just no energy/time/desire/chocolate to do so. (The lack of chocolate is a total fabrication. In fact, the eating of the chocolate takes up a lot of blogging time. Or so I've heard.)

So, instead of real, insightful-type post, I will post some random pictures of things that have recently amused/confused/aggravated me. Fair enough?

First off, can someone explain tiny shirt-sleeve pockets to me?  I put on this wonderfully soft and cozy pink shirt a couple of weeks ago and was dismayed and confused by the tiny pocket on my sleeve.

It's not big enough to put ANYTHING in.  And if you did find something tiny enough to put in it, it would fall out the first time you raise your arm.  And it looks weird.

Then I remembered I had another one in the closet at home:

 

What's the deal?

Next, we got a letter from the Census Bureau this week.  You probably got one, too.  When I saw the envelope, I was all, "Okay, finally.  I'll fill this bad boy out and be done with it."  (I'm occasionally efficient like that.) But, alas, no.  It was not to be.

Instead they sent this INCREDIBLY USEFUL letter to tell me that they would be sending the actual census form soon.  Thanks, U.S. Government.  The tree that gave its life for that piece of paper that you sent us is eternally grateful, as is our national deficit.  Great thinking.  I can only hope you'll send me another letter a few days after I get the census form to remind me to fill it out and send it in. 

Next, gas station pickles are NASTY.

I don't care if you are pregnant or not--they are gross.  (I may or may not have bought the pickle the same day I bought a dozen chocolate covered doughnuts and a blue raspberry Slush Puppy.  Go ahead and judge me.  The cashier did.)

What a happy perk this is!

Why does EVERY store not have expectant mother parking?  I think I'm gonna start a petition.

Finally, I found something sorta neat at Babies R Us on this same shopping expedition.  It's called Heartburn Tea.  It's made with cinnamon and marshmallow root and all sorts of herbal friendliness.  I haven't tried it yet, but the whole concept of stomach acid shooting out my nose Sunday night made me decide it was time to try something, ANYTHING different to help.  (Don't pretend  you aren't jealous.  It's not every day you get to smell digestive fluids hanging out in your sinuses.  Unless you are me.  Good times.)

Anyhow, here's the box:

Is it just me, or could they have put ANYTHING else on the box besides that half-nekkid woman?  Granted, that look on her face kinda makes me think that she could feasibly have heartburn, but REALLY?!?  Put a cute, winged baby on the box.  Or a volcano spewing hot lava.  Or me writhing in agony with a kleenex stuffed up the right side of my nose.  Anything but that lady!

So, yeah.  That's what's been going on in my head.  Sad, but true.

Have a great weekend!

An Open Forum for Griping

Don't get me wrong. I am grateful to get gifts. To know that someone thought about me and thought that I would like something is very meaningful.

BUT...

Sometimes you get a gift SO BAD that you have to tell somebody.

This happened to my husband and I at Christmas this year. Due to extenuating circumstances, I can't tell or show you just what we got here, but I will gladly e-mail you a little show-and-tell if you're interested.

Consider this post a safe haven. Tell me what you got that was just awful. I'm not talking about gag gifts or funny Dirty Santa gifts. I mean, the real deal. Did you get a animatronic fish that sings Christmas carols? A harmonica for those who are not musically inclined? (That is a real gift my very musically inclined husband got one year.)

Just let it all out. I need a good laugh!

Happy Thanksmas!

Typically, I would never, and I mean NEVER, put up our Christmas decorations before Thanksgiving.  I am a strict traditionalist that way. 

This year had to be different.

I had to put everything up early this year because we have several out-of-town trips coming up, plus I scheduled a ladies' group Christmas party at my house two days after we get back from a 5-day trip, so I have my plate more than full right now.  I am not yet done with the decorations--by a LONG shot--but I have come up with a few observations as I've been working.

Every single time I walk past the living room, this bear scares the Snickers out of me.  In my peripheral vision, he is Jack the Ripper, complete with axe and murderous intentions.

Bless my little carriage driver's arm.  I don't know if he got attacked by rabid squirrels in storage or what, but that amputation looks painful.  For some reason, a whole bunch of our decorations have got to make a visit to Dr. Hotglue Gun this year.

As is their tradition, the green-faced zombie children enjoy building a zombie snowman.  I think they sort of melted in storage or something.  Wow.

I tried to tell the people in the villages that letting a Wal-Mart Supercenter come in to their neighborhood was a bad idea.  Those villagers never listen.  I should've appealed to the green-faced zombies to write a petition.

Now look what's happened!

The Mom and Pop Grocery store has closed.

Might as well put some tiny shutters on those windows of the Clock Factory, too.

I question the accuracy of this guy:

When's the last time you saw a Wal-Mart greeter under the age of 70?  This guy doesn't even dye his hair!  I am calling a fake right now.

I will post some pictures later of the completed decorations.

By the way, how do you like my new layout?  I owe Rachel big time for her creativity and hard work!

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!

The Return of Girl Hair and Other Assorted Fun

November 17, 2009

Luke brought home some of his artwork from school last week.  I pulled it out of his folder and praised him for doing such a good job and staying in the lines so well.  As I smiled at Luke, I noticed he looked a little doubtful and perplexed.

Me:  "What's wrong, Buddy?  These are really good pilgrims."

Luke:  "But I don't understand why there wasn't a boy pilgrim."

Me:  "There is a boy pilgrim.  He's the one with the hat."

Luke:  "And the GIRL HAIR!  Look at his eyes and lips!  That is a girl."

I didn't really put up much of a rebuttal argument.  Those are some pretty girly features he's got there.

Luke also brought home some "artwork" from Children's church earlier this month.




Most kids color and draw for fun.

Not my Luke.

On a TOTALLY unrelated note, I saw this on a recent shopping trip. 

And I thought the Pooping Reindeer from last year was nasty.

This takes disturbing to a whole new level.

I'll be back with part 2 of my freaky stories fun tomorrow.

Have a great Tuesday!

It's A Post About Nothing!

November 4, 2009

Sorta.

I signed up for a Google Analytics account awhile back and forgot about it. I mostly signed up to see how people find my blog. I know a lot of folks found me from other friends' blogs and many came in through the Alabama Bloggers website. (p.s. If you are an Alabama Blogger, make sure you are linked up there! I've met some really cool people through it!)

So, without further ado, here are some of my personal favorite searches (plus my snarky comments) that brought people here:

1. "Really Martha"--Yes, I've said it. Repeatedly. Sometimes you have to question Martha and her motives. Like this and this and this. Clearly, the woman needs help.
2. "Alarm Clock that Shocks You"--Uh. Wow. I posted about a Spongebob Alarm Clock that Luke has, but, umm. Wow. Somebody's a heavy sleeper, I guess. Strangely, I've gotten a lot of these referrals to my blog.
   
3. "Auburn Equivalent to Tide Pride"--Sorry, Aubies. There is no such thing. :)
4. "Bugs"--More specifically, "brown multi-legged bug," "multilegged bug bathroom" (An odd decorating choice, in my opinion), "toilet seat bug" (I DIE!!!), "bugs in my toilet" (EWWWW!), "bugs in philosophy" (HUH?), "small brown bugs in toilet" (This is a REAL problem, isn't it?), and "bugs that come out after it rains." Yikes. I am no bug expert.
   
5. "Get rid of ladybugs in house Martha Stewart"--Yeah, Martha Stewart! Why don't you do that instead of making creepy costumes and decorative poop bags, huh!?!
6. "How to wash socks Martha Stewart"--I'm no Martha Stewart, but... I usually turn on the washing machine, add soap, and put the socks in. Try it and let me know how that works out for ya.
7. "It's heaven on a soft pretzel"--I always thought Heaven would be bigger. I'm sure there will be soft pretzels there, though.
8. "Long Socks Bathroom"--Another odd decorating choice. Check with Martha on that one.
9. "Muffin tin brown dog candy"--I, uh, well, umm. Gosh. I have no idea.
10. "Name of the socks you wear at the doctor's office"--I call them "socks." Revolutionary, I know.
11. "No shake hand church Canada"--I know where I'm going to church if I ever move to Canada. That's progress, people!
12. "No shake hands button"--Oh, I see money in this. I could make buttons for people to wear (like me) that say "I don't shake hands." Awesomeness.
13. "Not wearing socks/sore throat"--Ha! Okay, whose Mom searched this?
14. "Tweety Bird Pajamas at Wal-Mart"--I'm not sure if they were shopping for PJs, but if you want to see Tweety Pajamas, all you need to do is go to my Wal-Mart. There's always somebody there wearing them while they shop.
15. "What is a special boy?"--If you don't know, I can't help.
16. "Why I hate any sort of outdoor washroom"--I am totally with you there.
17. "World's Cutest Third Grade Boys"--This one was a while back, so while I'm not sure, I think that may have been a Michael Jackson visit. May he rest in peace.
18. "He got girly looks"--Again, Michael?

So, there you go! I am going to have to keep an eye on my stats a little better, because, frankly, this is a pretty good way to fill a blog post when you've got SQUAT to write about.

Have a great Wednesday!

With an oink, oink here, and an oink, oink there...

October 19, 2009


Against my better wishes, the swine flu made its way into my home.

Luke was diagnosed with it on Wednesday of last week. BOY, is this stuff ever NASTY! He had a really high fever, sore throat, cough, total lethargy, and learned the skill of projectile vomiting.

In related news, Jason learned how to mop.

Even though the rest of us had Lysol in our lungs and hand sanitizer running through our veins, Emma still caught it, too. She started running a fever on Friday morning. We headed her case off early with Tamiflu, and she's already back at school today. (Unlike Luke, who still had a fever last night. *Thanks, Dr. Sidney! You were right about Tamiflu being better than Relenza!*)

On a brighter note, after I'd been coughed on, puked on, and slept on during the morning on Thursday, I heard the UPS truck rumbling up our driveway. I was thrilled to see it was a package for me from Sandi at Whistlestop Cafe Cooking. I had won a giveaway from her blog, and it arrived at the perfect time. I needed a pick-me-up!

I won all these goodies:
So far, I've only tried the grilling spice, which Jason is now in LOVE with. Emma cannot wait for me to make the cobbler. She came home from school Thursday afternoon telling me about how she had eaten something called "blueberry cobbler" in the school cafeteria and how great it was. I am shocked and saddened that I have let her go 9 years without a blackberry or peach cobbler in her life. I will be remedying that soon with the Caboose Cobbler mix! (By the way, all these items are available on this website for ordering.) There are a lot of really yummy sounding recipes in that cookbook, too.

My package also included this great apron:
I would have modeled it, but I'm still in my jammies and no one wants to see that. Thank you, Sandi, for all these great gifts! I'm going to feel like a real chef in my new apron!

Luke would also like to thank Sandi for this:
Bubble wrap is even more entertaining when you've been stuck in the house for 6 days.

In other news, I found out that the "standing broom trick" is really not that difficult.Also, giant hummingbirds are roaming free in my backyard:Finally, I mentioned my medical malady last week which has been keeping me from blogging...well, without going in to a whole lot of detail, I have been really, really, really sick at my stomach. Everything I eat makes me feel horrible. I have lost 9 pounds in the last two weeks. I am living off of cheese toast. (It's a good thing I like cheese toast.) Long story short, I went to see a doctor who gave me some medicine that is kinda helping, but not really. So now, I have to go back in with a, umm...sample.

All I have to say is, "You want me to put WHAT in WHERE?"The physics of this confuse me. I really don't get it.

Stop reading now if you have a weak stomach.

*********

Okay. They told me to put it in the fridge if I umm...do "it" the night before.

That is SO not going to happen.

I can't believe I ended my post this way.

Sorry, y'all.

Good gracious, Martha!

October 15, 2009

Martha Stewart, have you lost your mind, woman?

This is SO WRONG.

It reminds me a lot of the baby lobster costume.  At least the head is not coming out the butt end this time.

But, seriously, Martha Stewart?  If you made this hideous costume for your precious child, what do you do with it?  Just leave the kid lying on the table?  I mean, good grief!  You can't take Junior anywhere in the car, and he doesn't look like you could even pick him up.  The aerodynamics are all WRONG.

I am shaking my head at you Martha Stewart.  Blecch.

Umm...okay.

October 14, 2009

The instructions said "Write a sentence about Nate the Great, Master Detective.  Then, draw a picture to illustrate your sentence."

Luke, I'm not sure that's what they had in mind.

This is a No-Shake Zone.

September 14, 2009

I have mentioned before that I hate shaking hands. With all the fears of flu and other generally nasty bugs going around, I would like to propose that we cease ALL handshaking immediately.

Could we adopt the Japanese bowing custom instead?
Nobody touches anybody, and unless somebody sneezes on the way down, no germs are exchanged.

Lately, I have found that my germaphobia may be getting the best of me. Just yesterday at church, I knew the pastor would be greeting people as they arrived. Since we are always some of the last people to get to church, he stands in the hall and waits for us. All I could think about was how many hands he had shaken right before we got there. Instead of shaking his hand and walking straight into the bathroom to suds it up and wash it off, I transferred my purse, my Bible, and my church bulletin to my hands. When he extended his hand to me, I waved my full hands at him. He laughed at me because he knows what a germaphobe I truly am. In fact, he tortures me with the handshaking sometimes. (NOTE: He is a wonderful man of God, really. God just blessed him with an evil sense of humor.)

To protect myself from cooties and other various and assorted maladies, I've been thinking of other ways to avoid the dreaded handshake:

• Sneeze or cough directly on your hands right when the other person extends theirs. Apologize and look sheepishly at your hands.
• Go in for the side-hug when the person comes at your with their hand out. (If you are me, turn your head in the opposite direction. And maybe go change clothes. Whatever.)
• Wave from a distance. This especially works well if you go with the "full hands" avoidance maneuver. That way, you both avoid the awkward extended hand left hanging.
• Gloves and/or hand braces. "My hands are really cold!" and/or "Ouch, my hand, my hand!"
• Salute. It looks weird, it feels weird, but no germs are exchanged.
• Tight pants. "Sorry, my hands are stuck in my pockets and I totally can't get them out."

I know I'm not the only crazy clean one out here. What do you do to avoid handshakes?



While you are in the neighborhood, go check out Wendy's "Life is Funny" blog carnival. Just wash your hands before you stop by, okay? : )

Disturbing Toy Alert

September 10, 2009


Oh, look. Emma found a funny rubber chicken. It is just so hilarious, what with its rubbery chicken-ness. Oh, dear. What's that? Eek! What came first, the rubber chicken or the nasty rubber egg? Complete with yolk? Ugh. I die.I found these on the Clearance Aisle at Toys-R-Us. I just can't imagine why they were there.They are "Baby Abuelitas." Tiny little dolls of grandparents. That sing. In Spanish. That look really odd. And Creepy.
One more disturbing kid-related item, just for kicks...

Martha Stewart wants to help you make a Halloween costume for Junior.
REALLY, MARTHA STEWART????

What disturbing items for kids have you found lately? Are you going to make a costume for your baby that makes other people want to eat him or her?

REALLY, Martha Stewart?

July 21, 2009

To make myself feel more inadequate in life, I subscribe to Martha Stewart's "Craft of the Day" Newsletter. I can't say that I have made even one craft that she's sent to me. Most of them don't even register with me as being necessary or even that interesting to me.

Until today.

Behold:"Dog Clean Up Bags.
Add some fun and fashion to everyday dog-cleanup bags."

REALLY, Martha Stewart?

A decorative poop bag? To make matters worse, she expects me to use an iron to make this. I don't even use an iron for its intended purposes, much less to make a cutesy bag for hauling my dog's handiwork.

Sorry, Tootie. It's not happening.

A Bathroom Rant

July 6, 2009

(If this is your first time at my blog, I'm sorry. They aren't all like this, I promise. If you are a repeat reader, y'all know a girl's gotta rant sometimes. Welcome back!)

You never really appreciate your own bathroom until you've used someone else's. Or more specifically, a public bathroom.

As we traveled a couple of weeks ago, I was struck by several details that were thoughtfully added or were mysteriously absent in public facilities. (When traveling with a 6 year old boy who is on the Great North American Bathroom Tour, you see a LOT of bathrooms.) This is my somewhat comprehensive list of what I saw:

1. Door Locks--These should be mandatory. Strangely, they were conspicuously absent from many stalls I visited. Mall/restaurant/gas station owners--I besiege you. Do NOT neglect to replace these if they break or fall off. It is no fun to "hover" above a toilet (And there went most of my guy readership...) and try to hold the door shut simultaneously. I think I may have permanently injured a muscle I didn't know I had.

Duct tape is never an acceptable medium for locking a door. I wish I didn't have to type that.

Also, the door locks that stick need to be replaced. You know you've been there. That split-second feeling of panic when you turn left, then right, then left again...and it won't open. The thought goes through your head, "I'm going to have to crawl under." And if you are like me, you'd rather die than touch a public bathroom floor. Just fix them.

2. Toilet Paper Dispensers--Look, we all know that you've got to have toilet paper in a stall. That's not even up for discussion. The problem I have is when you need to obtain paper from one of those stingy dispensers. You go to roll some off, and it gives you 1.5 sheets. I'm not Sheryl Crow. I'm gonna use me some tp, okay? We are all better off for everyone using more toilet paper. (Sorry, trees.)

Anyhow, I hate it when I need the paper and have to fight with the dispenser for 5 minutes to get 6 squares. I mean, by then, my calves and thigh muscles are pretty much shot from the hovering (And there went the last guy that thought it was safe to hang around). I can't stay in there holding the door shut with my other hand much longer, people!

3. Hand Dryers--As a germaphobe of a very high degree, I appreciate the concept of hand dryers. I still would rather have a paper towel to open the door with when I exit, so I don't have to touch the handle after Nasty Nellie just walked out without washing. (I DIE!) My problem with the hand dryers comes in the form of the jet-engine powered dryers. They look all practical and innocent hanging over there on the wall under the "Employees Must Wash Hands" sign. You walk up, unsuspecting, and present your dripping hands to be gently dried. All of a sudden, you realize you are not in a bathroom--you are standing behind a jet that is, at present, taking off! Look out! It blows your flesh backwards off your hands into little rolled-up windblown dunes on your wrists. The sound alone is enough to cause an 8 year old girl to go running out of the bathroom screaming. (Of course she touches the Nasty Nellie fouled door handle on the way out. Sigh.)

4. Super nice restrooms are rare--I was in the Dillard's at Pier Park in Panama City, FL when the extra-large bottle of water kicked in. I walked in the bathroom and did a double-take. Surely, I had walked into the president of the company's facility! I was surrounded by granite counters, clean tile floors, and opulent fixtures. A nice public restroom? What an oxymoron!

5. Stall cracks--That just sounds wrong. Again, for the nice people who "maintain" (such a strong word) public facilities, please consider the width of the cracks between the stall wall and the door. If I can, from my hovering position, glance up and see somebody full-on looking back at me (without their face at the precipice of the door, mind you), please, please do something about this issue.

Duct tape could be useful here.

And y'all? Don't look through the door cracks. That's not cool. It's one thing to see if there's somebody in the stall, but it's a whole other deal when you try to figure out if you went to elementary school together.

6. Door signs--Always a good thing to have the doors clearly labeled to prevent any confusion about who goes where...I'm all about that. I agree that printing the signs in Braille is also a fine idea. BUT, when you computer-print a paper sign that says "Men" or "Women" with the paper-printed Braille underneath and laminated, then you are nominated for FAIL of the Year. I'm just sayin'.

7. Don't GO there!--Okay, I gotta ask. Is there a secret society of icky people that go around doing their thing in the potty and leaving it without flushing? I mean, I go in a big bathroom with 10 stalls. I pick the 4th one from the door. I open the door and draw back in horror at what "surprise" awaited me, unflushed. I quickly make my way to the 6th door (because there's no way I'm going in there and flushing that, and the 3rd and 5th doors are too close to what's in there!), and it seems as though that person might have gone stall-hopping in their pursuit to make me die from a germaphobe inflicted heart attack. What's up, y'all? Flush it!!!

What have you seen? Good or bad, I can take it. (As long as I don't have to touch it, it's all good.)

p.s. I added this to a blog carnival at Weight..What?: Check it out!

Just an observation.

This plastic clock is hanging on the wall in the Fellowship Hall at my church. Oh, how I wish it wasn't!

If you actually have to print on your product that it is "high-class," it probably isn't. The clock hands in the middle of Jesus' chest skeeve me out pretty bad, too.

Happy 50th post to me. I'm not sure this one should count.