Tragic.

Jeffy's drug habit begins to spin out of control . . .

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That really is a terrible shame.

No thanks, I'll rent

I don't like you in that way

Dear Utility Company:

I always suspected that you had a little crush on me. At first it seemed harmless enough, and I would be lying if I said I wasn't a little bit flattered.

However . . .

I am a little weirded out by your new stationary. Okay, a lot weirded out.

Obsessive and relentless service is not only way too much attention, Utility Company, it is downright creepy.

Just look at yourself. You just sit there, typing away, growing more and more out of shape ... your head growing more and more hydrocephalic.

Why don't you step away from that computer, get some exercise, perhaps have that noggin of yours drained? Then start thinking about finding yourself a nice girl who will appreciate you for the squirrelly little freak that you are.

I will continue to pay my bills, but that is as far as our relationship can ever go.

Please consider this letter my good faith effort to resolve this issue without a restraining order.

Your CUSTOMER,

Reluctant Kerry

Get Well

To Rick, who suffered a most unfortunate SLIP 'N SLIDE-related injury this past weekend, we want to wish you a complete and speedy recovery.

Again, Mom was right. It's all fun and games until someone gets hurt. . .

. . . Then all that is left to do is shuffle around in your bathrobe and try to sleep off what promises to be a world-class hangover.

Who's better than you, Rick?!

berries bunnies bassets and burns

It was kinda like "The Perfect Storm" only instead of working on a fishing rig, I was taking the dogs for a walk. But in all other respects . . . it was pretty much the same. Even before I walked out the front door, the stage was set for disaster.

I have two Basset Hounds. While Fred and Mae are short dogs, they are by no means small dogs. If you combine their respective poundage, they weigh more than I do.

The mulberry trees along our trail are loaded with berries. The fruit that has fallen to the ground has attracted hoards of rabbits.

A fun little fact about Bassets -- they were bred by Belgian Monks to hunt rabbits. Interesting, no?

So the dogs and I rounded a corner, and were standing on a dewy (and slippery) hill when the dogs spotted a half dozen rabbits feasting upon the berry bounty. The events that follow are still a bit of a blur, but here is what I do recall:

• Fred and Mae freeze and point.
• The rabbits spot the hounds.
• The rabbits scatter.
• The hounds bolt in opposite directions.
• Fred circles around behind me.
• I frantically race to untangle the twisted leashes.
• Fred knocks my feet out from under me, and races down the hill.
• SEARING PAIN behind my left knee!!!
• A steady stream of expletives unbefitting a young lady.

So I have some lovely bruising and a feisty rope burn adorning my thigh. I like it. Makes me look tough.

There was a lesson learned here. This is more than an idle warning.

-

I must agree. Leg burning/cutting is most certainly NOT OK. If only I had been better informed before walking the dogs.

I will not get caught unprepared again, though. I've done a little research on the issue. Turns out that eye hazards and amputated fingers are also "NOT OK." I guess I got lucky ... this time.

-

-

-

-

So it has begun . . .

The Surprising First Sign of Alzheimer's

"The first sign of dementia, including Alzheimer's disease, may not be mental decline. Instead, it's quite likely to be physical decline, especially difficulty walking and maintaining balance . . ."

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Oh shit.

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this is clearly not good news for me

Why no pinch?

God help me, I love this ad.

I also want to pinch. Desperately.

Speed Guidlines

Near my home there is a narrow winding roadway. The posted speed limit is 20 mph.

Last weekend was the first time I noticed that there was fine print on the Speed Limit sign.

huh.

Really? I was always of the impression that enforcement of speed limits was sort of implied. The sign may as well have read:

So here's my question to you: Would it be fair to infer that that signs that do not contain a "Strictly Enforced" provision will not be strictly enforced?? Fabulous!

From now on, when a Speed Limit sign does not contain any express indicators regarding enforcement, I will simply take the liberty of mentally filling in the fine print for myself.

And for the idiot driving too close behind me:

Distracted Today

Sugar Crash

I went for a run yesterday. Most of it went just fine, but the last 5-10 minutes were brutal. I completely ran out of steam. So utterly drained of energy, in fact, that I did a quick check to make sure there wasn't a tranquilizer dart in my ass.

As I was crawling, hands and knees, in the grass next to the trail, I found myself with time to ponder what the hell went wrong here.

I think, perhaps, it may have had something to do with my breakfast ... which consisted entirely of Chocolate Cookies and a Nerds Rope.

That's right. I'm ALL about the healthy living, my friends.

Click it !

Have you noticed the recent ad campaign promoting seatbelt use? I've gotta tell you, I really love that catchy slogan I keep seeing everywhere.

I just can't get enough of it: Click it or Ticket. Rhymes and everything!

I know they considered a number of excellent slogans, but I truly think they picked the right one.

A Quiz!

HOORAY ! It is wedding season once again. There is just something about this magical time of year that knocks young couples' musical tastes all out of whack. What is about an engagement that evokes the desire to hear your musical friends perform horrible, horrible musical selections?

I have put together a little quiz. Below is a list of questionable love songs (some definitely being worse than others). Just for fun, take a guess at which songs I have actually been asked to sing at weddings.

-1- I Do (Cherish You) by 98 Degrees
-2- Love of a Lifetime by Fire House
-3- I Don’t Wanna Miss a Thing by Aerosmith
-4- Because You Loved Me by Celine Dion
-5- Groovy Kind of Love by Phil Collins
-6- My Valentine by Martina McBride
-7- Endless Love by Lionel Ritchie and Diana Ross
-8- Heaven by Brian Adams
-9- Longer by Dan Fogelberg
-10- From this Moment by Shania Twain
-11- Con Te Partiro by Andrea Bocelli
-12- Hero by Enrique Iglesias
-13- Thank You by Dido

Obscure Reference

I'm wearing purple today. Thought I was looking pretty spiff, what with my dusky purple slacks, lavender blouse, amethyst necklace and earrings . . .

It was just brought to my attention, however, that I bear a remarkable resemblance to a bruise.

I'm fairly sure that was a clever reference to the 1991 hit movie "Drop Dead Fred." Well done fashion police, well done indeed!

p.s. i hate you

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bilateral subungual haematoma

Everyone has skeletons in their closet. The truly unfortunate have skeletons on the web. I am worried that I may be one of those "truly unfortunate." I'm not talking about embarrassing and / or questionable photographs. No, no! What I have out there may be far, far worse.

Let me back up. I take occasional breaks from my sedentary lifestyle. During those breaks I will often go for a run as penance for my Cheetos habit.

A while back I bought some new running shoes that turned out to be a bad investment. My big toes bumped up against the end of the shoe, and after several miles my toes grew tender. However, by that time it was too late . . . purple bruises were starting to form beneath my toenails.

For the next few months I kept my blackened toes cloistered and hidden from public view. Ugh.

Then I had an appointment with a dermatologist . . . an evil dermatologist (perhaps with hazel eyes, I should have taken note). Even though I was not there for my wounded toes, the doc asked me to take my shoes off and hop up on the table.
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Doc to his Physicians Assistant: Wow! Would you take a look at these?!
PA: Yeesh!
Doc to PA: 'Spose she's a runner?

(I'm insulted on two levels: -1- because they are conversing as though I am not in the room; and -2- because I do not look fit enough to pass for a runner without some debate)

PA: Maybe ...
Me: Yes! Yes I do run.
Doc to PA: Go and grab the camera, and a blue back drop, would you?
PA: I'll be right back!
Me: Ummm . . . what exactly are we doing here?
Doc: What? Oh. Uh . . . it seems you have some bruising under your toenail.
Me: So I gathered.
Doc: And we're just going to take a few pictures of them . . . . (uninintelligible)
Me: Yeah, I got that. Now, why again. . .
PA: Ok, got the camera, do you want to shoot, or do you want me to do it?
Doc: I got it.

(A series of photos is taken of my toes. one of just the right . . . then just the left . . . then both at the same time -- I kinda got the feeling I was at some sort of toe wedding).

Doc: So . . . What brings you in today?
Me: What were those pictures for?
Doc: Let's go ahead and check you for moles!

What the hell?!! To this DAY, I still have no idea what became of my toes' glamour shots. However I fear the worst. I have not stopped combing the web for those photos since that creepy, creepy office visit.

If you come across the pictures of my feet, please let me know. They are adorable size 6 feet with dainty little toes -- two of which are black as night -- set against a blue backdrop. Photos may bear the following label:

"bilateral subungual haematoma."

I will pay top dollar for information leading to the whereabouts of my toe photos.

Thank you in advance for your assistance.


NOTE: while I'm sure the toe shown above is a very nice toe . . . it is not my toe.

Eye - Q

I was puttering around online when I came across this ad:

But I'm thinking that the better question is probably:

What pissed off Hazel? Was it my terrible Eye-Q pun?

Speeding Ticket

It seems that I am an easy target for mockery. I've grown used to it from colleagues, neighbors, my banker, etc. But ridicule from a first grader was not something I was quite prepared for.

Yup. That's right. This is a $100.00 ticket for "speeding for talking."

I asked my six-year-old niece for clarification. What did I do to deserve such a hefty fine? Apparently she felt this citation was warranted in light of two factors: (1) talking too fast, and (2) talking too much.

She handed me the ticket, walked away, and laughed herself silly.

Just try to collect, funny girl.

FAQs

The following is my very own list of Frequently Asked Questions (do you see yours in there?)

Q~ So what exactly is the official "midget cut-off"?

Q~ Have you seen my pants?

Q~ Wow, Is that a freckle-stache you have there?

Q~ What the hell are you looking at?

Q~ Won't you take me to ... Funky Town?

Q~ We don't carry your size, have your tried GAP kids?

Q~ How'd you get this number?!

Q~ Run along and fetch me some coffee, won't you?

Q~ So, how come no tan?

Q~ Who are you again?

Violently Clean

I have noticed a peculiar trend amongst the cleaning products under my sink. Seems that it is not quite good enough to merely clean house; rather, it is necessary to brutally assault any and all hard surfaces in my home.

KABOOM!

BLAST!

BAM!

and BITCH SLAP!

I'll be honest. I'm a little uncomfortable with the new fresh scent Bitch Slap! cleaner. It's not environmentally friendly.

Global Warming and Such

Take a look at this, and tell me if it gets your blood boiling like it does mine.

This image provided by NASA's Hubble Space Telescope Thursday May 4, 2006 shows a second red spot, smaller, emerging on Jupiter. For the first time in history, astronomers have witnessed the birth of a new red spot on the giant planet, which is located half a billion miles away. The storm is roughly one-half the diameter of its bigger and legendary cousin, the Great Red Spot. Researchers suggest that the new spot may be related to a possible major climate change in Jupiter's atmosphere. This image was taken with Hubble's advanced Camera for Surveys on April 25, 2006.

See ... this is exactly the kind of thing that pisses me off. Stupid inhabitants of Jupiter with their air conditioners, scented candles, and aerosol deodorant. Oh! And would it have killed them to drive a Prius?

Just what do they have to show for their irresponsible choices? That's right, a brand new persistent anticyclonic storm.

I hope they are satisfied with the Jupiter they will be leaving for their children and their children’s children.

Officially Aging

It finally happened.

In one moment it became abundantly clear: I am getting old.

I got stuck behind a flashing school bus while driving to work this morning. I looked over and saw a number of cute little kids boarding the bus when I noticed that their bus stop was a friggin' gazebo.

How idyllic! How very nice for these pampered little kids.

When I was that age I didn't have a picturesque gazebo as my bus stop. The location of my bus stop could be best described as (swear to God) a snowdrift. That's right a S-N-O-W-D-R-I-F-T!

I have vivid memories of huddling behind said snowdrift, wind howling, mentally willing the bus to hurry up lest I should die from exposure to the elements.

A snowdrift!

The drift below looks very much like my childhood bus stop. We would stand in the space between the drift and the fence behind it, our little teeth chattering away as we waited. How nuts is THAT?! Why would you do that to children?

I suddenly understand why rational adults become curmudgeons. I seem to be undergoing my very own curmudgeon transition ... starting this morning.

fhqwhgads

It's stuck in my head and there is nothing I can do about it.

I sat through a conference, it played on a continual loop through my head. While on the phone, all I was really hearing was this song. Tonight before I drift to sleep, I am certain I will hear this tune over and over again.

www.homestarrunner.com/fhqwhgads.html

The first time I listened, I was relatively unaffected. It was that damn second listen that got me. Here, listen again.

www.homestarrunner.com/fhqwhgads.html

Everybody to the Limit,
to the Limit Everybody,
Everybody come on Fhqwhgads!

(I'm listening to it right now. I might be dancing a little. Join me!)

Miracle Cure

Can anyone help me with this one?

I've been struggling to make sense of this ad I came across this morning. Have a look and let me know what you come up with.

This ad purports to offer a glorious cure for the hemorrhoids. That's all very well and good, but what bothers me is the woman in the very short skirt suit. What exactly is implied by this ad?

Now that little-miss-attaché has availed herself of the HemCure she is now free to confidently wear short skirts to the office?

Exactly how horrific was this poor woman's hemorrhoid problem that, prior to treatment, she required floor length shirts to hide her condition?

Don't get me wrong. I am happy for her and her new found knee-baring freedom, but I just can't get past my own morbid curiosity about her condition prior to this miracle procedure.

That's it. The ad worked. I will do myself a favor and call to find out more.

Freckle-Stache

Dear God. It's back.

Every year I hope it won't show, and every year my hopes are squished by an insidious onset of the condition I call Freckle-stache.

I don't mind freckles per se. Freckles are cute. But there is nothing, nothing less cute when the damn things organize to form patterns. NOTHING.

All it took was one day of forgetting to apply sunblock to my 'stache-susceptible upper lip. That was it. The summer-long cosmetic battle has begun. Below is an exaggerated (for now) depiction of my freckle-stache:

I don't know which is more embarrassing: Looking like I have a moustache, or the appearance of a dirty lip.

either way . . .

Fun with Lexicography

I was just flipping through my trusty copy of Black's Law Dictionary when I came across the definition for "concubine." The definition is surprisingly broad:

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concubine. A woman who cohabits with a man to whom she is not married.

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That’s it. The whole definitional-enchilada.

Applying this definition to the living situation presented by "Three's Company" both Janet and Krissy would have been Jack's concubines.

Interesting.

Literary Review

A guilty little pleasure of mine: I enjoy quirky children’s books (e.g. The Stinky Cheese Man and the like). Conversely, I have an abiding distaste for schmaltzy moral-laden children’s books.

So . . . I went to a baby shower yesterday. My gift included what I consider to be a literary gem, Don’t Let the Pigeon Drive the Bus. I also gave mom-to-be a tube of Butt Paste, but that was mostly because the product made me giggle when I spotted it at Babies “R” Us.

However, someone gave mom-to-be what I consider to be the worst children’s book EVER, “I Love You Forever.”

Here’s the short-and-skinny on this terrible, terrible book: A mother is singing a song to her sleeping newborn baby.

"I'll love you forever,

I'll like you for always,

As long as I'm living

my baby you'll be."

As the kid grows into adulthood, she continues to sneak into his room and sing this song to him while he is sleeping. You think that is creepy? Just wait until he moves out!

That's RIGHT! She drives across town with a ladder in the middle of the night, climbs up to his bedroom window, drags him out of his bed, rocks him on her lap, and sings the damn song. (Did she chloroform this guy?)

The book moves from creepy to insanely depressing in a heartbeat. As mom is dying, her son rocks his mama and sings the song to her.

What the hell?! Mom dies at the end of a children’s book?!

I’ll bet reading this book goes over really well at bedtime. A sleepy-time discussion of mortality.

For the love of God! Mom dies at the end of the book!!!

As this book was passed around at the shower (I am not making this up) a couple of the more matronly ladies read the book, and CRIED! Shouldn't THAT be your first clue that its is not a good book to give to a KID?

My point: worst children's book ever. Stick with pigeons that want to drive commercial vehicles, that's what I say. Thanks for letting me get that off my chest.

Achtung!

It is the end of another long week.

I am pooped.

That's right pooped. I know that's a "mom-term." So what? It's applicable. Don't you love your Mother? Then don't be so down on her lingo.

I am too pooped for the more complex of cognitive functions. It's times like these the most simple things will evoke from me a full-fledged gigglefit . . .

. . . like this sign:
















This sign ALWAYS kills me. I don't even know why.

I'm a bit been suspicious that the little sign-guy started that blaze.

Run little man, RUN!

Open Letter

An Open Letter to the Unpleasant Woman Who Nearly Ran Me Down With Her Bicycle:

Dear Ms. Cycle Shorts:

You may not remember me; I was the jogger you nearly hit with your bike Sunday afternoon. If you will recall, you came around the corner, nearly hit me, and muttered your displeasure about me being in your way. Yup that we me: the tan-less jogger with the perplexed what-the-hell expression on her face.

You clearly know more about the sport of cycling than I do. Dressed head-to-toe in the most professional-looking gear, from your padded bike shorts to your slick-graphic jersey. (Wow you must have a sponsor!). So I might be speaking out of turn, here. But I care, so here goes . . .

I think you need a new cycling coach.

There, I said it.

I’m sure the pro you have been working with is very competent, but it just doesn’t seem to be working out for you. First, I don’t think I have ever been passed at such a slow rate of speed. Is that a training technique? Pedal as slow as possible without tipping? What is the purpose of that?

In fact, you were traveling slow enough that I had plenty of time to get a gander at your bike shorts. That’s a whole lot of padding you have there! How necessary is that in your case? You know, given your own posterior attributes? Can you even FEEL the seat? All I’m saying is that any coach that is looking out for your best interests would not let you out in public in those shorts.

I bring these matters to your attention because, as your neighbor and fellow trail-patron, I feel obligated. Also, I would be remiss if I didn’t mention one final thing: the next time you run a jogger off the trail and then yell at her, prepare for a branch in your spokes.

Hugs,

Reluctant Kerry

Baby Take-Out

I love it when I get useful tips and how-to's. These helpful pointers make life simpler, and help me save some time.

Tips I have found useful:

• how to keep your pasta from sticking
• how to avoid injury in the shower
• how to install an internet counter

Here's a tip I recently came across, that was not so much helpful, but a lot of damn work:

How to Adopt a Baby from China

WHAT?

Seriously . . . WHAT?!

Allow me to share the following:

"Adopting a child from China is an exciting opportunity for your family, but you'll have many papers to file before the pitter-patter of little feet fills your home."

Good LORD! Are we talking puppies or babies here?

I will tell you what I find more troubling (cause you asked so nicely). There are only 14 measly steps between you and your exotic new baby. That's it. Just the 14. Not a single step more.

The only problem is that once you complete this simple 14-step process . . . you have a BABY! That doesn't make my life any simpler . . . this "tip" can only complicate the hell out of it.

As always, my humble little comment board is open. Please feel free to share with me any of your own tips. I will welcome any "how-to" that DOES NOT ultimately involve me saving for college or buying a pony.

click here to learn more about getting your OWN Chinese Baby

The Count

So you’ve probably discovered my dirty little secret by now. I am very much a blogging amateur. In truth, I have no discernable computer skills beyond email.

Don’t you judge me!

I’m good at other things . . . like . . . just trust me – I am good at some other stuff, I’m sure.

Given my lack of computer / internet proficiency I was crazy-excited that I figured out how to put a little hit-counter-thingie (technical term) on my site – ALL BY MYSELF !!!
Scroll down . . .

Lower . . . .

Lower . . .

There it is! At the bottom of the page.

I really did need this technology, too. These tens and tens of readers won’t just be counting themselves!

Plus, I really think this ups the Reluctant Homunculus’ prestige-factor. You can feel quite smug in being one of only a dozen or so readers world-wide.

ALL HAIL THE COUNT!

Threeee! Three wonderful readers!! (thunder and lightening) AH! AH! AH!