A Brief Update

You know how when a dog gets all in a skunk’s business you’re supposed to bathe him in tomato juice? It doesn’t work on humans.

PARTICULARLY WHEN IT’S SPICY V8 JUICE.

Which reminds me of this time I was at the beach and our neighbor heard that meat tenderizer is good for jellyfish stings so she kept some in her bag. So I get stung by this whale of a jellyfish, come running out of the water, she comes flying towards me and starts liberally dousing me with…wait for it…garlic salt.

Come to think of it, what is it with me and food on my body in emergency situations?

Briefly

tweet yallYes, I’ve been off social media for a while. Didn’t notice? Congratulations, YOU have a life.

Because I have some friends who are having weird horrible days today, let me just tell you that NOT ONLY did I burst into tears in the Auto Zone parking lot, I had to use Fix-A-Flat and CANNOT get the stench off me. I have showered AND rubbed my hands with alcohol. I have just washed my hands with vanilla extract. Now I am high and smell like a delightful baked treat.

YOU ARE WELCOME, INTERNET!!

Blanche

this christmasPeople think that if you don’t work outside the home, all you do is lie around and eat bonbons and watch stories. First? There’s only like one soap opera left on TV. Second? I prefer Cheetos. There’s so much to do around the house even now that both Girl Child and Boy Child are out of the house. Chuck and I were both sick during Thanksgiving, and I’d just had enough of walking through the living room thinking about how it really needed to be dusted. So I hired an imaginary maid, Blanche.

Blanche came highly recommended from the tap instructor of my imaginary twins Sizzlene and Formicadinette. But it’s been a while since I’ve managed people, and I guess I’m out of practice. So here’s a thing. I said to her yesterday, I said, “Blanche, that Christmas tree isn’t going to decorate itself.” And she, cheeky thing that she is, said to me, “Missus, CTFO and drink your bourbon.” Now, I was totally on board for the latter, but I had to call a teenager to ask what a CTFO was. And I’ll just say this, I’m very hot-natured so I thought that was kind of nice.

We’re going to get that damn tree up today. Or maybe tomorrow. Point is, we’re getting that damn tree up. Just a little while ago while she was admonishing me for not polishing the silver more regularly and with more vigor, I told her I thought it would be nice if we had a fire in the fireplace. Actually, I was back in the bedroom going through the pockets of every jacket I own to find a freaking tube of Burt’s Bees or Lip Smackers or any of the 5,930,372 tubes of lip stuff I KNOW I own but can’t ever find, and she was in the dining room doing whatever it is maids do in dining rooms. So I called to her. I said, using my outside voice, “BLANCHE! FOR GOD’S SAKE GO PULL THAT LIMB THAT FELL SATURDAY OFF THE CARPORT ROOF AND START A FIRE!” Well, then I hear my text alert and was about to ignore it like I normally do, but I was hoping to hear from my friend who was having silicone injected into her earlobes today. She has always had the most leaf-like lobes. Just weird and thin and, well, unattractive. But it was Blanche! blanche

Can you believe that? Part of her contract is that SHE does my pedicures every Wednesday. I can’t believe she forgot that’s tomorrow. Much more of that and she can just go back to cleaning floor wax out of shoe taps.