The Lesser Of Two Evils.

I'd much rather it have been the Shamwow guy.

Retro Music Friday - The Apples Don't Hang Too Far Apart On The Tree.

A few months ago I got my hands on my sweet Emmsie's cell phone number - which at the time I don't think she was altogether pleased about.

Perhaps I should put Emmsie in the proper frame for all of you.
Emmsie is my cousin and also my Goddaughter. I was 17 and a senior in HS when she was born. I was around to see her grow up for about a year and a half or so before I took off to college. When I'd come home on break from school I always made it a point to spend some time with her. Nothing could fill me with quite the level of glee as seeing a three-year old Emmsie, who'd not seen me in six months or so, run toward me with arms open, squeeing uncontrollably and smiling a big, cheeseball baby toothed grin ear to ear.
She knew that she would have my complete and undivided attention, what with her having two older brothers, undivided attention was hard to come by for her.
So there I would sit, in her cotton candy pink bedroom, letting her adorn me with all manner of plastic Pretty Pretty Princess jewelry, my hair a mess in those pastel colored barrettes after she'd " do you hairs " and there'd be no less than three " babies " in my lap.
In her less frenetic moments she used to find me, wherever I happened to be sitting, and curl up in my lap and rest her head in the crook of my neck.
She ate it up and so did I.

But as tends to happens, she's grown up and that cheeseball, baby-toothed grin has given way to her own particular brand of witty cynicism. I blame her brothers for her jaded outlook. The Mister and I had this conversation not too long ago that had she not been the youngest with two older brothers she might not have such a toughened exterior. They, like most young boys, were a couple of brutes who scrapped more often than not. Although I think she managed to stay out of the fray during the majority of these fisticuffs, I have no doubt that she got pulled into them more than a few times. She didn't get any free rolls of the dice from them because she happened to be a girl.

I think the upside of her having two older brothers is that she speaks fluent teenage boy. Woe to the young man who approaches her and perhaps tries to put the moves on her...Good Luck to you Buddy !

Anyway, as I said, she's grown up. These days she in the full on teenage girl mode, which if any of you are familiar with teenage girls...as I tell her brother who can't quite believe the magnitude of her sullen, snarkiness...it's tough to love a teenage girl sometimes.
I love her as best I can and try to hold on with both hands during the F5 teenage years. Basically, I spoil her rotten and don't bust her chops too much. I try to be her " safe place to land ", if you will. Which I think is all I can do really.

At any rate, as I was saying, I got her cell number not too long ago. Last night, while The Mister and I were watching the ball game I realized how much I missed her, so I shot her a text.
We had some amusing back and forths for a few minutes. Our texting wound down and I, thinking she'd perhaps had enough of what she perceives as my " Over 30 dorkiness ", put my phone down and went about my evening.
A few minutes passed and my phone text alert beeped. It was Emmsie.

Are you upset about Michael Jackson ?

I replied to her inquiry:
Um, not really. No. I was more upset when my favorite body wash was discontionued.

She shot back:
I can see you had a strong connection to said body wash. Either that or a very weak one with the black...excuse me.....white man.

I laughed my ass off and answered her back:
That body wash was awesome ! Besides, I'm old enough 2 remember when MJ was black.

Not to be outdone she answered me back:
I heard he was pretty kick ass in his blackness time.

As I seem to have a PhD in 80's music I shot back:
U should check out Billie Jean on YouTube. Talk about kick ass !

Let the snark begin:
It's not like I'm ignorant to that time. LOL.

Not wanting her to think I was busting said chops:
Wasn't implying that u were. Just saying Billie Jean was the pinnacle of his ass-kicking blackness.

And as she always needs to have the last word:
Noted.

With that my phone text alert went silent from then on.

So as I'm sure you've all heard, Michael Jackson bought the farm yesterday. As did Farrah Fawcett - poor thing fights cancer for three years and gets upstaged by MJ kicking the bucket.

To see Billie Jean, CLICK HERE.
For a little Farrah Fawcett love, CLICK HERE.
Girlfriend was certainly a whole lotta woman, and from what I read online, was quite a lovely person as well.

XO
Bunny

P.S. Did anyone else catch Johnny Depp on Letterman last night ? Yow.

In The Movie Of My Life The Part Of Stephanie Will Be Played By Patricia Arquette

I've chronicled on this blog what came best be described as The Bunny & Steph Mutual Admiration Society. Steph is one of a handful of people in my life who " gets it ". Our little back and forths, whether by email, text or phone are highly amusing. I thought I'd let all of you in on one of the tamer email exchanges we've had.
Just so we're all on the same page - here is the cast characters appearing in the following email tete-a-tete.

Bunny - Me
Stephanie - Our best-est cousin. The Marcia to my Jan.
The Mister as The Mister
K - Stephanie's younger sister
Big G - Stephanie, K and The Mister's Grandmother.
Phyliss's ( sp ? ) sister - a hard to explain relation of Steph, K and The Mister
____________________________________________

Original Message
From: Stephanie H
To: Bunny
Sent: Sunday June 21, 2009
Subject: address

I know I have it somewhere, but what is your new address? I'm sending you something.
__________________________________________

Original Message
From: Bunny
Sent: Monday, June 22, 2009
To: Stephanie H
Subject: Re: address


Sending something....to us ? I....I don't know what to say. I feel so......... so special !!!!!

You like me ! You really like me !
( squeeeee........)

Just kidding. Don't mean to sound sarcastic. It's early and I've not had enough coffee yet.
Perhaps are you sending us yourself in a box ? That would so rock.
( music starts in my head.....)

" It's Steph in a box.........it's our Steph in a booooo-xxxxx !


^^ get it ? Like " Dick in a box " ^^ hehe

Like I said, not enough coffee yet.

Anywho....here goes;

3** (____) Avenue
(_____) , RI
02**5

You can Zillow our house if you want.

The Mister talked to K on Sat. night. She was holed up in Big G's bedroom trying to hide from Phyliss's ( sp ? ) sister. In K's words
" Man, she's really f'ing wierd. Just. Wierd. "

And those two ( The Mister & K ) had their own personal Beavis and Butthead moment. You know when little kids say things that are " adult " funny, but have no idea what they said was so funny.

Sometimes Senior Citizens ( I refrained from calling Big G " Elderly " - lest she get wind of me calling her " Elderly " and kick my now-size-10/12 ass ) say " Gen X " things and have no idea how funny they sound.

Apparently Grandma had, I guess, wandered into the bedroom and told Krissy that everyone was outside watching " Cornhole".

All I heard was The Mister snicker and say " Did Grandma just say " Cornhole " ? THAT ROCKS ! "

Ahhh....it's the little things, huh ?

As I style myself as somewhat of an artist, I find inspiration in these little life moments.

Please follow the link.

http://www.someecards.com/usercards/viewcard/e844b373deb12d35af8803242329666c

XO
Me

__________________________________________

From: Stephanie H
To: Bunny
Sent: Monday June 22, 2009
Subject: RE: address

You are special. I should send you more shit but I am a loser friend. If it is any consolation, I think of you guys A LOT.

I will miss you terribly when I am at the family reunion next week.

I think you will like your present.
_______________________________________________

From: Bunny
Sent: Monday, June 22, 2009
To: Stephanie H
Subject: RE: address


Yes. I am special. I'm special in that " short bus " kinda way......
Did you follow the link I sent you ? Did u not laugh your ass off ?
Hehehe...Cornhole. hehe.

Just curious....what exactly do you think when you think of us ?


Does a warm sensation of genuine affection wash over you filling you with a glee so intense that you glow like an overweight person at the Old Country Buffet ?
Or is it more like a " I hope this doesn't turn into a rash. " type feeling ?

Btw, unlike you I have a warm, genuine affection for IKEA ( but only mon- friday ) however I think I am safe in the assumption that we both would rather our husbands be caught red-handed on Cops propositioning a tranny prostitute than dine at the OCB.

Would I be correct in that assumption ?

You know, as I am trying to think about writing a book, I may devote an entire chapter to our little back and forth emails. Perhaps do you have some of them saved ? Yes, you read that correctly. I'm trying to think about writing a book.

It has a working title. And a dedication page.

XO
me.

____________________________________________

From: Stephanie H
To: Bunny
Date: Monday June 22, 2009
Subject: RE: address

Yes.

Somewhere between the former and the latter. :)

And OMG yes.
______________________________________________

From: Bunny
To: Stephanie
Date: Monday June 22, 2009
Subject: RE: address

You are the textbook definition of a Capricorn.


I....the quintessential Aries.

Yet somehow we make it work. =)

____________________________________________

Xoooo

Bunny

I <3 Craigslist.

We're all familiar with Craiglist. There is a veritable treasure trove of goods and services on Craigslist that will fulfill almost every need you can have.
Why just this past Friday we went in search of someone to take all the white trash crap the previous owners left behind in the barn.
We thought we'd try to profit off their hillbilly propensity for collecting useless junk, but alas, trying to find someone to pick up all the junk AND pay you for it was difficult.
We had to resort to Craigslist.
The very first ad we came across was a guy named Al. His ad was right to the point;

" I take scrap metal, lawnmowers, etc. Will pick up. Call 401-***-**** "

I called Al and not six hours later all the white trash crap was gone. In twenty minutes. Gone. Poof.

At any rate, my friend " K " ( 'memba her ? She dusted my naked ass with glitter... yeah her. ) and her boyfriend " J " came over for dinner about a month ago and introduced me to
The Best Of Craigslist.

Oh. My. God. This my friends, is priceless comedy. Although sometimes I have a difficult time discerning who is really just a moron and who's being ironic. It's a fine line sometimes.
I now occasionally peruse the Best Of postings for laughs. I came across this one the other night. From what I can gather it is a reply to a previous posting. Here goes;
Original post in blue. Reply comments in purple.
I know this is a long one, but stick with it - I dare you not to LOL.


Re: What I want in a woman........ - 45 (Western Carolina)


Sorry for the late response. By now, you may actually have found someone out there who’s perfect for you. If not, I thought I’d give it a shot.

• Can go hiking in the morning, looks good in a ball cap with her hair pulled through the whole in the back and still be able to attend a formal dinner that night

Hiking I’m down with, though I never, ever wear ball caps. I’m also perfectly flexible with where I go so I can easily change from hiking to formal dinners. As a thought though, you should consider the poor girls who are only going hiking for your sake, come back with their feet covered in blisters, and are then expected to don heels and go out all night to some formal dinner. High expectations?

• Knows the difference between an offensive guard, tackle and tight end

Ha, I have no clue. Are you really going to strike out an amazing girl because she doesn’t know football terms?

• Knows the difference between the NFC and AFC

I believe those terms are football related as well. National and American football league? I had someone give me the answer so I bet I’m right. But does it count if I had to ask someone else? Or is it ok since I’m obviously trying to learn?

• Cares about what she eats but is not so hung up on her diet that she can’t enjoy hot wings, a good pig pick’in and an ice cold beer

You are disgusting. Maybe you should just date a guy. He might be really into all of that.

• Is as comfortable sitting in a dive bar on the beach as she is sitting next to me in church

Well, you sound incredibly religious…dive bars? If she’s that comfortable in church, I doubt she’ll be super comfortable in a dive bar. Personally, I wouldn’t take you up on either. I’m not religious, likely a turn-off for you, and I’d rather go somewhere other than a dive bar likely surrounded by perverts and desperate guys. (Much like yourself it sounds like).

• Enjoys working in the yard and creating something that’s nice and enjoyable

Well damn. Couldn’t this have been listed in a “likes outdoors” category? Possibly listed with hiking. Or are they that different? But hey, I might have finally gotten one right! I’m definitely a big fan of plants. I name them, that ok?

• Can find the joy in any small child

ANY small child? Even the snot-nosed brats that now roam the playgrounds, trampling everything in their paths and stealing the swings? I don’t think so. Maybe you should have left out the word “any.” I can’t believe any women could find joy in absolutely any small child unless the clock is ticking like crazy. Is that what you’re looking for? Maybe you should have specified that.

• Enjoys and exemplifies her femininity through clothes, light make up and manicured hands and pedicured toes

Man, what happened to the guys that liked the whole “natural look.” Damn you media for letting me believe that for so long. Guess I’ll have to start wearing makeup again. Total bummer. Also, I’m not sure how well that pedicure is going to hold up if she’s hiking all day. And that manicure won’t look so hot after she’s been out in the garden all day planting whatever it was you wanted. Does she also have to be feminine on the hike or just at the formal event? Ball caps don’t usually scream feminine to me but they seem to be a pre-req. Maybe a pink one would suit your fancy.

• Has cute feet

I for one do not have cute feet. Want to know why? I’ll tell you. It’s because I love hiking and running and walking around barefoot and really anything outside that gets me moving. It’s killer on the feet. You can’t have it both ways.

• Has the ability to make me feel like she has been waiting for me all day, just to walk through the door

Sounds like you want a puppy. Would you really want a woman who has no life and waits for you to come home every single day. Scene: You: “Hi honey, how was your day?” Her: “Oh, it was horrible. I waited and waited for you to come home.” You: “Well did you do anything fun today?” Her: “Of course not, I was waiting for you to come home so you could entertain me.” Repeat the following day.

• Truly loves Jesus and understands what that means

You crack me up. Also, you truly sound like you know what that means. You’re superficial and you sound completely arrogant to be able to demand these things from someone. And what’s up with the dive bar? Did Jesus frequent dive bars? If he did, I doubt it was to pick up chicks, which is what I’m assuming you’re doing.

• Who prays earnestly

Shall I pray for you to stop making the male race look so incredibly stupid?

• Understands that sex is not a weapon that should be used to prove a point or to be withheld for any reason

Sounds like you’re bitter about an ex girlfriend. Did she withhold sex because you were an arrogant prick? Bet you deserved it.

• Understands that sex is…….. to be performed between only two people who commit their lives to one another in the sight of God!

Oh, so you’re waiting until marriage? Or does God make exceptions for you? Guess it won’t work out for us…I definitely didn’t wait. I hope God was at least entertained.

• Understands that sex……..can and should be performed in many different ways and positions. NOTHING absolutely NOTHING is taboo

You sound like you have some knowledge of this subject. See above comment. Nothing is taboo? Just wait… Oh, you meant none of your fantasies are taboo. What about all of hers? Better hope she isn’t too out there…

• Understands that men love oral sex……. Its just the way it is! She should love doing it and look for opportunities to surprise me with it

I would like to add that women do too. You have to give it to get it.

• Loves to dress up a pair of jeans with high heels (especially those little open toed ones) and a nice blouse

Anything non superficial? I’ll wear that if you wear a nice button up shirt and a pair of jeans that makes your ass look really really hot. And those shoes I like. I hope I’m allowed to ask for that…you did.

• Is beautiful inside and out

I’m guessing you actually mean hot though so I’ll give you measurements. You can decide whether or not I meet the qualifications. 5’8”, 123(ish) pounds, shoulder length brown hair, and I’m a runner so you know I’ve got great legs. I’m a size 5 jeans. My bra size is 34B. Does that cut it? Am I hot enough for you? Bet I’d make you look good. It certainly wouldn’t be the other way around.

• Puts family first…….. immediate family or extended family

Sorry, I can’t go out with you tonight, I’m meeting my mom for dinner. Nope, can’t do Friday either, I’m meeting my second cousin. Saturday is booked. I’m taking my step-cousin, once removed, to the mall, then I’m meeting up with my uncle for a movie. Maybe I can squeeze you in between my aunt Selma and my cousin Fred on Tuesday afternoon around 3. You free?

• Understands that you can’t choose your family you can only choose your friends

Also, you can pick your nose and you can pick your friends, but you can’t pick your friend’s nose. Though in this day and age, you could. Just take them to get plastic surgery.

• Actually has close friends.

Is it ok if I put them before you on a regular basis? Or should I wait at home for you to come home twiddling my thumbs instead?

• Understands that seeing old friends is a good thing. Even if its old girlfriends ( I’m with you, not them, get over it)

Bitter much? You can see your ex girlfriends if I can hang out with all of my ex boyfriends when you aren’t around and without your knowledge.

• Likes to spoon in bed as much as she does like to sleep apart or just touch feet

So she’s open to doing whatever? Could have just said that.

• That taking a shower together is one of the greatest ways to start the day

Is this a subtle hint that you want sex in the morning or do you just really like cleanliness? It is after all next to godliness.

• Enjoys creating a new meal together. Starting on a Saturday morning going to the store and shopping for the food, preparing the food Saturday afternoon and then eating it with a glass of wine….. all day, together. No other agenda.

How am I going to stay in shape if the whole day is focused on food? This does not compute.

• Doesn’t have to know how to build things, but at least has no problem holding the other end of the board for me.

At this point, I’d happily hold the board for you and use it to slap you in the face. You down? Or can I be the one to hold the hammer and you the board?

• Won’t freak out when she comes home and I have all of the bedroom furniture in the living room and I’m repainting the walls because Home Depot had a sale on paint. Instead, she says “I’ll order a pizza and change clothes and help”. Knowing that the color may not be perfect, but who cares……its only paint!

Oh, so she gets absolutely no input into what happens in her own home. That shows that you really respect her and her input. Nice.

• Can sit around and watch a good tv show (although, good tv shows are few and far between)

If there are so few, you should probably have specified what you mean. It’s doubtful you’d agree with her choice of shows. I’d like to watch CNN and Gilmore Girls reruns. I think they’re both excellent.

• Understands that hard work should be rewarded with good pay.

I agree. Also, women should receive the same salaries men do.

• Understands that the guy digging the ditch may work “harder” than the guy in the pickup truck who is watching him, but understands that the guy in the pickup truck is the one who is taking all the risks……. Who had to estimate, bid, negotiate, plan, put fuel in the trucks, pay taxes and do all the billing just to make sure the guy in the ditch has a job.

I’m incredibly confused by this statement you arrogant prick. Yes, putting fuel in a truck is risky business. I’m sure he really appreciates the risk you’ve taken. I don’t think you could hack it at doing manual labor.

• Does not believe in socialism

I am a hardcore socialist.

• Understands that there is nothing wrong with finding ways to live “greener” and protect our environment and leave as little of a carbon footprint as possible, but who also understands that the Gov. shouldn’t shove this down my throat through regulations but achieves the goal through incentives.

So can we raise taxes to pay for these incentives? Or should we cut funding for the war to pay for these incentives? Or are you more of a cut funding for education type? Not attractive.

• Likes dogs and cats

I love animals. Can I bring all 22 of my cats when I come to visit just to prove my point?

• Likes a real fire not the gas log things

I hope you have a real fireplace and not a display kind.

• Can wear a skirt, a dress, jeans, shorts or a bathing suit….. depending on the situation. Although, she may not look perfect in any or all of them, doesn’t worry about it because I think she’s hot

I know you’d think I’m hot. But would you really be ok with any woman wearing a bathing suit. You better add in some other superficial requirements before you write that. Also, do I get to specify what you wear on any given occasion or is that entirely the man’s prerogative?

• Shaves her legs regularly

All the way up or just to the knees?

• Shaves other places regularly

I will if you’ll manscape.

• Enjoys vacationing at the beach, the mountains, or an amusement part.

I love a good roller coaster. ‘Bout time you got one thing right.

• Likes to give a slow methodical hand job right after she gets her nails done. (Hot pink, whore red, or French) are my favorite.

Only if I can use my nails the whole time. I think I’ll get them pointy. Don’t worry, they’ll still be whore red.

• Has good teeth and a great smile

Check and check. I hope you floss and don’t have coffee stains on yours.

• Can listen to country music, rock and roll, jazz or Christian or old dance music and enjoy them

Can listen to screamo, punk, metal, techno… Don’t worry, I can listen to anything. Can you?

• Who likes to work out and stay in shape

I believe this has been covered. I’ll run, you try to keep up.

• Can flirt with me from across a crowded room and no one ever know it

You won’t even know it buddy ‘cause it’s not happening. In your dreams maybe.

• Is willing and desires to sneak off after flirting for a “quickie”

Guess you don’t want a proper young lady. Also, God might not approve of such shenanigans.

• Would be willing to drive 100 miles to see an ol’ drive in movie

I’d much prefer for you to do the driving. I’ll stay behind. 100 miles between us sounds like an excellent idea.

• Doesn’t have any hang-ups about my facial hair. The winter comes, I might grow it, I might not, I might have a goatee, I might not

So I have to shave everything and you get to grow a beard? I don’t do facial hair. I’ll shave my legs if you shave your face.

• Understands that I’m going to keep my hair short….. I’m not going to color it, I’ve worked hard for the gray hair I have…. It shows experience

Can I have gray hair too or is that unacceptable for a woman?

• Can sew a button on a shirt and iron it

Iron your own clothes.

• Likes to have the door opened for her, car door, store door any door

As opposed to having it closed in our faces? Why thank you for being so considerate.

• Understands that I’m going to do everything I can to keep gas in your car. I know you can do it yourself…. But you shouldn’t have to

Sounds like I can finally get that Hummer I’ve had my eye on. Glad to hear you’ll fill it up for me.

• Knows how to give and receive a good massage

I can definitely give a good one but knows how to receive a good massage? Do I have to do more than sit there and enjoy it? Oh, I know. You want sex after.

• Would like it if I took her shopping, helped her pick out clothes for her, waited for her to try them on…..just dote on her all day long….. making her feel special

I would not feel special if trapped in a mall all day. I’d much rather be outside or at least somewhere not spending gobs of money. And I can pick out my own clothes thank you.

• Understands that her Daddy will always be her Daddy….. but I’m her man

No worries, I’m not going to fuck my daddy. I get the difference.

• Will NEVER dress in a little girl outfit for sexual purposes. Little girls are special and should never be looked upon in that way

Pedophile?

• WILL dress for me in other ways………….

Let me just go grab my French maid’s outfit. You better have something equally alluring though.

• Still gets excited on Christmas morning

I don’t do holidays. Bummer for you I guess.

• Understands that Christmas time includes the decorations, stockings (for everyone) and a REAL tree. I don’t care how much it costs I want a real tree

Even the dog? I bet Scruffy would like a stocking. Also, I prefer fake so I don’t have to kill a tree every year.

• Understands that Christmas ornaments should have meaning. They should be made by children or be gifts.

Did you keep all of the ornaments you made in Sunday school? And can I really not hang an ornament for the sole reason of finding it pretty?

• Also understands that any ornament a child makes is PERFECT regardless of what it looks like

Damn, sounds like your clock is ticking now.

• Will leave me alone when I’m in the bathroom

Really? But I wanted to come in and watch you take a shit.

• Is not a lesbian ( I know it’s the “in” thing but NOOOOO)

No worries, you aren’t even going to get any desperate, straight girls with this kind of ad.

• Can be a biker babe for a weekend

As in wear the stretchy tight pants or bike 50 miles?

• Believes that when a person dies, they should be buried not cremated

Burials are a waste of space and bad for the environment. I’d rather just be stuck in the ground, but seeing as how that isn’t an option in this society, I’ll go for cremation. Or maybe I’ll donate my body to science.

• Truly looks forward to “date night”.

Did you truly plan “date night” or are we going out somewhere last minute in the hopes that I’ll be so appreciative that you took time out of your busy day that I’ll give you a blow job later.

• Likes to watch me work out

Can I work out too or just sit and watch?

• Understands that I’m going to drive a truck and likes it

I’ll like it if you’ll offer to help me move.

• Wants me to tell her to sit next to me in my truck

I don’t want to be told to do anything. Do you want a doormat for a girlfriend. Or maybe a puppy? I really think you should just get a dog.

• Understands that I’m going to wear boots and jeans most of the time

But I have to wear heels? That seems fair.

• Also understands that I’m multifaceted…. I own, hiking boots, casual dress up shoes, formal dress up shoes, soccer shoes, softball shoes, flip flops, walking shoes, running shoes, casual everyday shoes

You spent money on walking shoes? Can I laugh now? Yes, your shoe selections definitely shows just how multifaceted you are.

• Understands that having sex regularly is not once or twice a week

We’ll have to talk about that. Maybe we can set up some sort of a schedule. Or do you like spontaneity?

• Is not afraid of business ventures and gets excited about new business opportunities

How about the business ventures that take me out of town for the weekends with my sexy coworkers? Those sound like fun.

• Likes to renovate old houses

As long as you’re the one handling the upstairs floor with all the holes in it. I’d much rather see you fall through the ceiling.

• Would stop on the side of the road and pick up an ol wandering mutt or kitten

I move turtles, does that count? Has anyone ever posted pictures of their lost pet after you decided to pick it up off the side of the road?

• Who doesn’t use the term “get at me” when referring to calling or contacting someone

I’ve never even considered it. I just hope you don’t use the term “Git-r-done.”

• Who understands and can speak the English language.

Well, she read this far. That’s pretty good.

• Who would rather receive a card or flowers on an average day then expect them on Valentine’s Day. Anyone can give gifts on the day they are expected but its special when its not expected

I agree. Just promise not to get mad when I tell you I don’t want to celebrate Valentine’s Day.

• Who knows how to tend to plants and likes to plant gardens and flowers

You already said that.

• Who absolutely knows and enjoys the fact that she is the most important thing in my life…… because she will be treated as such

Please, get a hobby.

Also, I neglected to mention the first three attributes you mentioned…

1) A chef in the kitchen
2) A maid for cleaning the house
3) and a whore in the bedroom!

I’m flattered. I bet all women are. I can cook and I’m good at it but it’s a lot more fun if the guy cooks too. Otherwise, you might as well hire someone. Or maybe you could go back to your mother’s house. To the other two, do you really expect women to respond to an ad where you call her a maid? What, do you just come home from work and put your feet up and expect her to come home and clean up all of your messes? You disgust me. And I hope you aren’t still expecting sex after all of this. I hope you’re still a virgin because otherwise I feel bad for every woman who has ever made the mistake of sleeping with you.


Out of curiosity, are you God? Because really, only someone who’s completely perfect should be able to make all of these demands of a woman. And you don’t just make tons of demands…sorry, expectations, most of what you list is entirely superficial. I’ll admit to having my own list, but it includes things more like “challenges me” and “motivated,” not “looks good in a ball cap” and has “pedicured toes.”

I just want to give you some idea of what a real person might actually be like. Maybe you should rework your list accordingly. After reading this, I’ve realized that I’m the antithesis of your perfect women. I’d like to think all guys out there aren’t like you. If they are, I give up.

Good luck with the whole desperation thing. Totally not attractive.


Location: Asheville
it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests
PostingID: 1182084422

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I don't know the woman who wrote the reply to this ad, but I love her.
And I've got three words for this guy.....

MAIL. ORDER. BRIDE.

XO
Bunny

Theory Vs. Reality, Ark Building, Missing 80's Pop Stars, Facebook & An Apology.

This morning while sipping back some coffee The Mister and I were watching HGTV ( Holmes On Homes ). As we have many home improvement projects going and more plans coming down the pipe we seem to be tuning into HGTV more and more these days. As many home owners can attest to - working on your house yourself can fill you with a sense of accomplishment that is mighty intoxicating.
I've painted nearly every vertical surface in our house (I'm the painter around here....The Mister ? Not so much. However let it be known that I have never touched the lawnmower. ) and I won't deny it.....when I finish up painting a room I feel like a badass, my ego perhaps inflated a little more than it should be.

There is perhaps one pitfall to HGTV. Although they have many shows devoted to encouraging and/or instructing people on how to do minor weekend-long projects and redecorating their residences - they also seem to fill the viewer with a false sense of oh....Bob Vila-ness. Like " Hey, if these people can rip down their garage and build a new one in a weekend so can we ! "

Perhaps they should have a little scroll cross the bottom of the screen during these biting-off-more-than-you-can-chew segments. It would read; " WARNING ! THIS IS MORE THAN THE AVERAGE JOE CAN HANDLE. PLEASE CONSULT YOUR LOCAL PROFESSIONAL ! "
This morning, between sips of his coffee, The Mister turned to me and said;

" You know, I bet we could rip up the carpets and refinish the hardwoods ourselves. "

As I was raising my coffee cup to my lips I shot him a look.

" No. I am not refinishing the hardwoods with you. "

The Mister was having one of those HGTV inspired YOU CAN DO IT TOO ! moments.

" Why not ? I mean, we'd just have to rent the equipment. "

I had to pull him back to planet Earth.

" No. Do you not see that this will just end with us wanting to kill each other ? "

Clearly he had overestimated my patience level in thinking that I would stand happily by in a face mask during such a task.

" Yeah, I guess you're right. We couldn't enjoy our hardwood floors ' cause we'd both be dead. "

The mark of a fully realized couple, I think, is knowing what your collective limits are.
Ours happen to be hardwood floors.

Redoing hardwoods in theory ? Great Idea !
Redoing hardwoods in reality ? Two thumbs down.

________________________________________

As I wrote yesterday, it has done nothing but rain for days on end. This morning we checked the extended 10-day forecast online and guess what ? More rain. Rain every day until next Saturday.
As you can Google just about anything - I'm going to Google " How to build an Ark ".

________________________________________

What ever happened to Jody Watley ? Does anyone know ?
________________________________________

The Mister has discovered Facebook. He seems to be having a great time with it. He's reconnected with many old friends and linked up with far-away cousins. Good times. I happen to be voyeuristically peeking into the lives of people ( mostly people I went to HS with ) via his Facebook page. It is amazing who turns up on Facebook ! People I had long since forgotten about. I sat in front of the computer last night with my mouth totally agape for the better part of 45 minutes saying things like;

" SHUT UP ! NO WAY ! THOSE TWO GOT MARRIED ??! "

and

" OH MY GOD ! THEY LOOK OLD ! "

and

" NO FREAKIN' WAY ! LOOKIT HOW MANY KIDS HE/SHE/THEY HAS / HAVE ! "

and

" HOLY CRAP ! I KNEW HE/SHE WAS GAY ! "

Ahhh yes. Facebook. It's like going to your HS reunion without the forced exchange of pleasantries, awkward conversational pauses, momentary loss of self confidence and overcooked family-style chicken.

___________________________________________

And now I have to issue an apology to those folks I may have drunk dialed and/ or sent odd pics and texts to last night.

I can't remember who exactly I called and / or texted last night. But I'm pretty sure it was the usual suspects.

My sister.
Trix.
Steph.
and
Mumbles Mile.

If they made a coffee cup that read #1 Drunk Dialer - my sister would have purchased it for me a long time ago.

Sorry all. Please accept my humble apologies. And if I've left anyone off the list - again, so, so sorry.


XO
Bunny

Retro Music Friday - My First Product Review

This is post is for the ladies. My male readers not need back away from this though...no need to click over to ESPN.com or anything - because if you have a special lady in your life this little bit of info I'm going to share with you WILL win you major points.

But back to the ladies...

Ladies, we've all been there. We all know the pain. The torture. The soul-sucking humiliation.

Bra Shopping.

I know. You Know. We all know.
I have been near tears in dozens upon dozens of dressing rooms, a stack of no less than sixty hanger-less bras at my feet.
None fit. Not one.
If I found a band size that fit, the cups were too small. If I found cups that fit, the band was too big. Either I was falling out of the tops of the cups or spilling out of the cups under my pits or the under wire refused to stay put and my bubbies spilled out of the bottom. Then there is the bra that makes you look like you have one big boob instead of two separate boobs. Ugh.

For me, as I am more than blessed in the ta-ta department, bra shopping was never fun. It was Suck-City, if you will.

I am not going to claim that the itty-bitty-titty ladies have it any easier than I do. But I can't begin to tell you how many times I've walked past a member of the itty-bitty club wearing some cute spaghetti-strapped shelf bra cami or strapless, flouncy summer dress and have worked my self into a snit that I cannot wear these cutesy things.
Oh sure, I've had a card carrying member or two of the itty-bitty-titty club bemoan their lack of hoots to me.
" Oh, I'd love to have bigger boobs. Clothes would look sooo much better on me...."
And I'm all like " Save it sister....you have no idea what it's like to walk around with two honeydews lashed to your chest ! "

But I digress.
I found myself at Lady Grace this afternoon. The New England mecca of specialty ladies undergarments.
And I found a bra.
I found a bra to end all bras.
The Bentley of bras if you will.

As I stood in the dressing room examining myself in the mirror I couldn't quite believe it. I was almost speechless.

" It.....it FITS ! Nothing. is. falling. out. Straps....straps not slipping. Band not riding up. Under wire not moving......OH MY GOD....Can this really be true ? "

Just to be sure I did the dressing room dance. Jump up and down. Bend over. Bend back. Jiggle up and down.
Still nothing moved. And I was near tears again, this time for all the right reasons.

OK, I've kept you in suspense long enough. CLICK HERE to see a miracle in under wire.
Do not be put off by the price ladies. It is well worth the cash. BELIEVE ME ! And if you don't wanna take it from Aunt Bunny....then listen to Oprah - Yep, this is Oprah's favorite bra. And Oprah would never lie to you.
I read a review that this bra takes a little getting used to and it is true. There is a fair amount of boning on the sides of the bra that help to hold the fort down or...hold the fort up.
At any rate - if you've got some All-Star Melons like I do - do yourselves a favor and take this bra for a spin.

Wanna know what ? Denis Leary likes Oprah. You're probably no doubt thinking....
" Denis Leary likes Oprah ? Naahhh. "
No, it's true. He devoted nearly an entire chapter to her in his latest book.
Here's a few quotes extolling his mad love for Oprah;

" Oprah, my friends, is the cure for what ails America. "

and

" I am way way, way way, Way into Oprah. "

And I can assure you that his love for The Big O is genuine.

For the record, I love Oprah too. I'm actually thinking of getting a subscription to her magazine rather than pay cover price for it every month. Just for kicks, here is a link to her website.

And if the bra that I am currently wearing is any testimony to the righteousness that is Oprah Winfrey I'm here to tell you, when Oprah tells you to do something - JUST DO IT ! Girlfriend ain't playing.

Ok, now on to RMF.
This week - with the exception of Wednesday - it has done nothing but rain. Pour freaking rain. One day after the next. Rain. Rain. Rain.
I imagine this is what it must be like to live in the British Isles.

As I am not able to embed a video...please CLICK HERE for Here Comes The Rain Again by The Euythmics.
I love the intelligence, depth and maturity of Annie Lennox's voice. I could listen to her sing all day.
I remember seeing this vid on MTV back in the day and thinking that her orange hair was one of the most awesome things I'd ever seen. This could quite possibly be where my affinity for hair coloring not found in nature started - which it seems is a habit I am continuing to this day.

Here Comes The Rain Again was released in January 1984 - I was just shy of eight years old.

Have a nice weekend all !

XO
Bunny

Welcome To WalMart.

Later-ish in the evening the other night The Mister and I went off to our local WalMart superstore to pick up a few items.
As he and I tend to be browsers we were in there for a long time. Longer than we should have been in WalMart and still have our IQs largely intact, but I digress.

Toward the end of our shopping trip we both expressed an interest in eating something - those of you in LTRs may be familiar with the Whadda-you-wanna-eat-I-dunno-whadda-you-want song and dance. The conversation usually goes something like this;

Man: You hungry ?
Woman: Yeah kinda.
Man: Well I'm hungry.
Woman: Ok, so why don't we get something to eat ?
Man: I'm really hungry.
Woman: I got the memo. You're hungry. I just said why don't we eat something.
Man: Whadda you want ?
Woman: I dunno, whatever you want is fine.
Man: :::::sigh:::::: This isn't helping. Why don't you suggest something.

Woman proceeds to verbalize laundry list of dining options. Man seems less than enthusiastic about suggestions made to him.

Woman: I've just suggested everything I can think of. When you decide what you want, let me know. I'm not all that fussy and could care less what we eat.

Man proceeds to make a tuna sandwiches.

The above scenario need not be gender specific. Please insert person(s) of your choosing into the above dialogue.

At any rate, being a couple in a LTR we are well beyond the goo-goo-gaa-gaa when there are tasks to be completed. The Mister paid for our purchases at the checkout and I made my way over to the in-store Subway. Split up and get out of store faster - precious braincells were being wasted.

I was the only customer in Subway at this particular moment in time. There were two Subway employees working. Employee # 1 was taking the trash out and left the store's premises. Employee #2 was standing halfway between the sandwich prep counter and the back room.
She saw me out of the corner of her eye and said; " I'll be right with you. "

I could see The Mister from my vantage point inside SW and he looked about three back in line still. As I felt there was no need to rush I was more than happy to let SW employee #2 do whatever it was she was doing in the back room. I'm generally not in the habit of busting the ass of anyone making minimum wage. They know they've got a shitty job - no need to add insult to injury. Girlfriend's just trying to pay her bills.

Employee #2's cell phone rang. She picked it up ( mind you she is about ten feet from me ) and this is what came out of her mouth;

" WHAT IS YOUR F*CKING PROBLEM A$$HOLE !? I'M SO SICK OF YOUR DRAMA ! I DUNNO WHO YOU THINK YOU'RE CALLING A WH*RE ! I'M SICK OF THIS SH!T ! I'M DONE WITH YOU ! I'M DONE. NO......I'M DONE ! DON'T CALL ME ANYMORE YOU SL*T !
I'M DONE WITH YOU ! "

I looked around for a hidden camera. I thought that perhaps Jerry Springer was now hosting a Candid Camera type show that I was unaware of and I was the guest on tonight's episode.

Apparently I'm not the only cell phone shot put gold medal winner. Employee #2 flung her cell somewhere into the recesses of SW's back room.

But Employee #2 wasn't finished, not by a long shot. She took two big strides in my direction and was now facing me from behind the sandwich prep counter. I was now the recipient of her verbal machine gun.

" I mean My God. My friend starts telling everyone I know that I'm a wh*re and now she, wants to be my best friend again! Like I'm supposed to pretend none of this sh!t ever happened. You know, it's not me who's the wh*re. She f*cked my boyfriend AND my brother ! Who needs that sh!t ?! She's such a bitch ! Who the f*ck does she think she is ? "

After her tirade she realized that perhaps her behavior was less than professional. She then became embarrassed and began to apologize. I assured her all was cool. As I said - I'm not trying to bust the ass of the minimum wage earner. Clearly she had some pressing personal issues to deal with, so I figured that if I could let her vent what skin would it be off my nose ? Lucky for her I find these little interactions with the public at large to be amusing rather than offensive.

By this time Employee # 1 and The Mister have both made an appearance in Subway. Employee #1 rings up our sandwiches and The Mister pays for them. As we begin to exit the store Employee #2 profusely apologizes again;

" I'm really sorry about that Miss....I'm really so sorry. Really ."

I assured her that we were cool.

As we walked to the car The Mister asked me what Emp #2 was apologizing for. I shared the details of my Subway experience with him and he began to laugh.

And as he is one of the most profound people I know, he felt the need to throw his two cents in.

" You know, it's like there is some sort of White Trash Time Warp between Knox, Indiana and WalMart. "

I then asked him what he forgot at the check stand as I had seen the cashier call after him and run to give him a bag. This was his reply to my inquiry;

" Oh. I forgot to take the cookies. I knew if I forgot those I'd be in deep sh!t. You would have re purposed a wiffle ball bat to sodomize me with if we got home and there weren't any Fudgie Grahams. "

^^ PMSing. Needed chocolate. BAD. ^^

Xoooo
Bunny

Bunny Vs. Slim & The Two Darrells - Round One * 500th POST ! *

To say that I'm still disgruntled about my poor cat being chased and summarily held hostage in a tree would be the understatement of the year.
I've taken it as a personal affront. To me it's essentially the same thing as my cat minding her own business,perhaps walking through Central Park, and getting mugged. She still refuses to go outside or even entertain the thought of going near a window.
As she is a cat, I as the RESPONSIBLE pet owner must fight her battles for her. You mess with my cat and you mess with me.

This is wherein I begin my fervent hatred of the canine species. I used to tolerate dogs....now....well, any animal that eats its own shit does not deserve to walk the earth. Especially big, dumb black labs named " Pepper " who for some reason are not kept on a leash or a run or any other sort of dog restraint device.

I've decided that I am going to make it my business to torture Slim & The Two Darrells for the next few days. I'm on vacation from work for the next week, so I've got plenty of time on my hands to devise said torture plan.

Passive Aggressive ? Me ? Naaahhhhh.....

I started in earnest this afternoon. I figured I would start with loud music. I'm pretty sure the Reagan administration tortured Noriega with some Appetite for Destruction - but G n' R is way too good for these busted-up Camaro driving idiots. I didn't want to give them anything they might enjoy.

Remember, I have REALLY BIG SPEAKERS attached to my computer that are right near a window. ( insert maniacal, cackling laughter here...)

I wondered just what kind of music would crawl up their asses sideways and stay there. I wanted a song or songs that would be stuck in their collective heads even after they went home. I wanted them to have the same PTSD that my cat was now having to learn coping skills for.

Elvis Costello was a nice jumping off point. What's So Funny About Peace, Love & Understanding ? I dunno ? Why don't you ask my cat ? Jerks.

After Mr. Diana Krall I moved onto Squeeze. Black Coffee In Bed ? Not when you have the circular saw going at 7:30 in the morning. I didn't really need to, you know..like, sleep late on my vacation or anything. Asshats.

I could tell that 80's post-punk British Invasion was not getting the job done. The brainpower needed to understand its irony was more than their New England Tech educations would have afforded them. Time to try something else.

Ah yes, I've got it ! 80's music ! Not just any 80's music...the kind that I like.

The Psychedelic Furs ! Love My Way ? Not if you're loving that stupid animal. As I said, any animal that eats its own shit............ Morons.

The above three artists only garnered an occasional " WTF ? " glance from them.
Time to up the ante. I had to bust out something truly niche. Something that only a small Gen X population would enjoy.

They Might Be Giants ! Birdhouse In Your Soul ! Had they been building a birdhouse they've been gone a long time ago. Bee In my bonnet you say ? I hope that dumb dog gets stung by a bee. Several angry South American bees.

I could detect mild annoyance, so I continued with Particle Man.
Their annoyance level was rising so after Particle Man I had to think quick.
What next, what next, what next ??
AH HA !

SONIC YOUTH ! Yes, yes, yes.....SONIC YOUTH. Time to go all 120 Minutes on their asses !
Not just any Sonic Youth would do though.....no no....it could only be Sonic Youth with Chuck D ! Kool Thing ! Girls liberated from male, white corporate oppression ! Take that Butt Nuggets !
Oh yeah, ( bobbing, weaving and swinging away like Rocky Balboa ) I used to have purple hair and wear Docs in HS ( floating like a butterfly and stinging like a bee ) - they clearly did not know whose cat they were messing with !

Alas, they packed up for the day once I got done playing Arrested Development. I knew Mr. Wendal would have totally had my back though.

Oh well. We'll see what kinds of annoyance inducing activities I can come up with for tomorrow.

Realize though, dear Internet, that had The Mister been home today none of this would have happened. The first few notes of What's So Funny 'bout Peace, Love and Understanding would have gotten me a dirty look from him that would have followed by him saying " Jesus babe, shit happens. Get over it. " Ah yes, The Mister and his pathological need to keep me off the train to crazyville. Where would I be without him ?

I should clarify the previous statement about " Darrell and my other brother Darrell " as Mumbles Mile ( coming to the States by way of Barbados and then Canada ) did not catch my reference. For a further explanation of the two Darrells ( which come to find out I've been spelling wrong...) please CLICK HERE.


Happy 500th Post to Me !

Xoooo
Bunny

Hootie & The Blowfish Are C*ckS*ckers.

I'm pretty sure they are not literal c*cks*ckers - lest anyone think I be exposing myself to a libel suit. The last I checked all the members of Hootie & Co were straight. Although it has been my experience that you cannot have more than four grown men on a stage and not have at least one of them be gay.

But still, they suck.
Why ?

Because for some reason, maybe bred from my textually harassing Team Miller ( How 'bout them Phillies ?! ) last night, I was feeling nostalgic about my college days in Charleston, South Carolina. The oppressively hot days thick with humidity when The Mister and I fell in love. Trix and I trying to turn our dorm apartment into something HGTV-worthy on no budget whatsoever. The Tuesday night buffet at Pizza Hut. Ahhh...good times.

There are two bands that remind me of these precious days of my youth. Dave Matthews Band and Hootie & The Blowfish. DMB hit big my freshman year of college - Ants Marching brings me right back. I can almost smell the damp, skank- nasty laundry room in the dorms.

Hootie & Co were actually from Charleston, so they were a town favorite - on the radio nearly 24/7. The video for Time is abundant with images of the Carolina low country and Charleston in particular.

As I was saying, I was feeling nostalgic today. I am building a rock wall around a flower bed in the rear of my house. Since my office windows are right next to the area I am constructing the wall - I figured some Fairweather Johnson would be a perfect soundtrack for artistically arranging rocks. I only listen to music through my computer these days - mostly utilizing my online music service- so the tunes flow nicely through the open office windows right into my backyard. Doesn't that sound like a pleasant afternoon ? Yeah, I thought so too until Hootie & The Blowfish f*cked it all up for me.......

I have to confess, making a low rock wall look like it's been there for all eternity is difficult and time consuming.

Anywho, back to Hootie. You can only listen to Hootie & Co on my online music service if you purchase the album, otherwise it's only 30 second samples of the songs ! WTF ! Led Zepplin has the same shtick on my online music service...but c'mon, they're LED FREAKING ZEPPLIN !
You're HOOTIE AND THE FREAKING BLOWFISH ! One of these things is most definitely not like the other. It seems like they are fond of a theme as you cannot find any of their videos on YouTube either.
I think Darius Rucker needs knocked down a few pegs. One BK commercial and he thinks he's the shit.

It's totally beside the point that I already own Fairweather Johnson ( could be a nice alternative name for men with intermittent ED, huh ? ) on a CD. No. That is not the point here. I could always scavenge one of the three yet-to-be-unpacked boxes, find it and pop it into my hard drive and " call it a day " as my pal Mumbles Mile is so fond of saying. But scavenging for it would require effort that I am not willing to expend. I have to save my energy for building a rock wall and making it look haphazard on purpose - which I've already explained is both time consuming and difficult.

So Hootie and I are breaking up. That's it. We are so through. Turning my back and giving them the hand. THAT. IS. IT ! Don't think you're gonna win be back either Hootie, what with you're genteel southern charms and all. I can see right through you, you petty, money grubbing whores.
I'll just have to go back to DMB. At least they know how to treat a lady.

Xooo
Bunny

Reflections On Our Cat.

Our cat has not dared to even look at the door since her PTSD-inducing drama of Thursday. The overtime shift she put in at the top of the tree has left her grateful for the creature comforts of home. A cozy spot under the bed. A dish full of food. An open window to perch in. The occasional sunbeam on the floor to bask and stretch out in.
This morning she did wander close to the door and looked up at me with a " Do I dare give this whole outside thing another try ? " type look.
Me being the tough love type, I decided to open the door. I figured she probably needed to get back up in the saddle and get over her fear of dumb dogs.

BTW, Slim and the two Darrells are back at it again today - with dumb dog in tow.

She gingerly stepped over the threshold of the kitchen door and decided to give the great outdoors another shot.
I went back to check on her after ten minutes or so. I peeked out the door and spied her sitting not six feet from the door, her face read of total terror. If she had the ability to speak I imagine she would have said;

" GOD DAMN IT , LET ME IN ! THERE IS A BIG DOG OUT HERE ! LEMME IN LEMME IN LEMME IN ! PLEASE ! I'M BEGGING YOU ! BIG.DOG.RIGHT.OUT. HERE ! "

I opened the door and she bolted in and fell over in a heap on the kitchen floor - no doubt having flashbacks probably the beginnings of a panic disorder.
________________________________________

Last night I was reading the newest David Sedaris book in the tub. I find Mr. Sedaris to be incredibly witty and ironic. He has a gift for story telling and I laugh out loud while reading his books. The Mister wandered into the bathroom to see what was inspiring my laughter. I understood his curiosity as generally a soak in the tub is not all that funny. However a soak with a David Sedaris book is a great time.

I offered to read him a chapter I had previously read, so he plopped down on the bathroom for story time. Yep, this would be one of those goo-goo-gaa-gaa moments.

The Mister and I have very similar senses of humor. We have the Denis Leary - George Carlin - Carlos Mencia thing in common. However we seem to hit a fork in the comedy road every once in a great while. When the Leary- Carlin- Mencia road splits I tend to take the darker, more ironic and sadistic Sedaris type humor path and The Mister....he has a tendency toward the slap-stick Pineapple Express-Zack and Miri Make A Porno type path.

I sat through Zack and Miri with him. Nary a chuckle on my part. The Mister was LMFAO for lack of a better term.

I read one of the chapters of the book to Hubs and had to pause occasionally, because although I read the same chapter not twenty minutes before, it was even funnier the second time around. Hubs did laugh, but not nearly as heartily as I did.

Our conversation then turned to the cat drama of the day before. I wondered how the cat made it out of the tree as neither of us were there to witness it. I remarked that perhaps she daintily crept down the ladder we left propped up against the tree. The Mister had other thoughts....

" You know, she probably fell asleep and fell out of the tree. Dumbass. "


XO
Bunny

Retro Music Friday - Our Very Own Gitmo

The Mister and I had quite a day yesterday. In a stroke serendipitous luck we both ended up having yesterday off. I always love an opportunity to spend some extra time with the Hubs, and I think he shares similar feelings about me. Realize though that it may appear to those not truly familiar with us that we are all goo-goo-gaa-gaa, holding hands while staring into each other's eyes 24/7. I can assure you that this is most certainly not the case. While we do have our goo-goo-gaa-gaa hand holding moments, we need our time apart. After a while one of us will inevitably utter something about " pain in my ass ", " driving me crazy " or
" who are you and what have you done with my spouse ? ".

At any rate, I had to drive Hubs to get the 2nd half of his root canal finished up yesterday morning. He balked a bit at my initial offer to drive him to the Dr. After a few minutes he relented and off we went.

I think upon exiting his appointment he was grateful for my being a licensed driver in his presence. He poured himself into the car much like a clock in a Dali painting and requested that I " find him something to take these damn pills with. " he then threw the passenger seat back to lay down.
He was in a considerable amount of pain, until the prescription narcotics kicked in - then all was right with the world again.

After the narcotics kicked in and The Mister was feeling good I sweet talked him into plant shopping with me at a nursery the next town over. He had sucked down a scone and some coffee from Starbucks so he was feeling human again - I figured I should take advantage.
I pushed my luck with my incessant need to shop for drapes, drapery rods, etc last weekend. ( Please see the refer to the " driving me crazy " statement above.) Come to find out that while The Mister was truly pleased to have his opinion taken into account regarding drapery selection, after being sucked into the vortex of rod pocket panels, valances, swags, tie backs and finials..... I suspect he began to feel the testosterone drain from his body and perhaps began to feel somewhat emasculated.
After a time he stopped giving a shit about what went in the windows.


We bought many lovely plants yesterday and after some lunch we put said plants in the yard.
The front of our house looks awesome, btw. The back ? It's getting there.

What does all this root canal-narcotics-plant shopping-drapery shopping have to do with today's RMF ? Not much. I felt like I needed to frame yesterday in the proper context.

I should warn our BFFs Todd & Therese. There is much comedy ahead. Please move all liquids away from the laptop.

Anywho, I was in the back of our house digging up some dirt to pot some plants. I was bent over and after a few minutes I heard a WOOSH WOOSH and two somethings brush past my legs - nearly knocking me to the ground. I screamed like so many a little girl.
A large black lab belonging to a construction worker building my neighbor's pool deck had chased my poor cat and consequently my poor cat ran up a tree.

I yelled at the dog to go home.......I should back track a few minutes here....after screaming like a little girl Hubs, the construction workers and three of my Korean neighbors who happened to be in their backyard all stopped what they were doing and looked in my direction. Yep, seven men all staring at little ol' me. Then staring at little ol' me running into the woods, wielding a dirt trowel and yelling at a dog.
This is where I may gain a reputation as " the crazy lady next door. "

The dog ran back to my neighbor's yard and my poor cat was now about twenty-five feet up in a tree having an asthma attack. Three more minutes pass before Hubs comes out to where I am in the yard to inquire about my well being. I believe I said something like " Thanks for coming to my rescue hon, you know...I could have been attacked by a rabid wolf or something and be laying on the ground bleeding to death....."

We both tried to sweet talk the cat into coming down. No dice. In fact, she managed to climb fifteen feet higher up the tree. For the previous ten years or so our cat has been an indoor cat, she's only explored the great outdoors this summer - I really felt that she lacked the Getting Self Out Of Tree skill that most cats have.

As a means to vent my frustration at the careless dog owner who saw fit to let this stupid animal run amok through the neighborhood I spoke loud enough for the owner of the dumb dog to hear me.....
" You can come down now sweetie, that DUMB DOG went home..."
I'm positive he was shaking in his shoes at such a statement.

I should tell you that there were three construction workers building my neighbors pool deck yesterday. There was who I presume was the foreman. Since he looked like he was about to birth triplets for the purpose of this post I am calling him " Slim ". I could tell he was the HMFIC because all he seemed to do was stand around and swear at the other two morons, whom for all intents and purposes I'll call " Darrell and my other brother Darrell ".

We decided to leave her for a few hours to see if she'd make her way down. She wasn't budging.
Other methods of Cat Removal From Tree were going to have to be investigated.
The Mister and I stood at the base of the tree and tried the sweet talking again. Nothing.
The Mister grabbed hold of the vines attached to the tree and started yanking them in an effort to scare her into coming down. Nope.
We threw sticks at her to try to scare her down. The cat was all like " Sticks ? Shaking the tree branches ? That's the best you two can do ? Losers. "

Then we decided that we were going to try to get a ladder. Now I should tell you that as far as ladders go we've only had a need for a rather large step stool thus far. The Mister went off to the local Mom & Pop hardware store...they were closed. Then he went to Job Lot. No ladders. He had to bite the bullet and buy a 16' foot ladder at Lowes. And that wasn't cheap.

He dragged the ladder out to the tree that our cat had probably decided after so many hours in probably wasn't a bad place to live out the rest of her days. I should tell you that by the time The Mister got the 16' ladder propped against the tree is was going on 7:45 PM.
The 16' foot ladder against the tree was still about fifteen feet too short.

The Mister climbed to the top of the ladder and swore at the cat. She was unimpressed. I climbed even higher up the ladder than Hubs and attempted to coax her down. Again, she was all like " Yeah, I know you like, feed me regularly and all but.....no thanks. " Then we thought that if she were close to one of us, meaning if one of us were at the top of the ladder, and one of us shook the tree branches again maybe she'd see fit to make her way down. The only thing this really accomplished was me getting leaves, pieces of bark and other things that inhabit the tops of trees in my hair, my eyes, my mouth, down my shirt, etc. Now I was at the top of a '16 foot ladder coughing and dirty.

Then we had the brilliant idea of climbing to the top of the ladder and poking her with a very long stick. It took us three tries to find a stick long enough to poke her with. It turns out my cat, much like myself, enjoys a good poke every once in a while.

Then, as it does, genius struck. I suggested that if we sprayed her with the hose she might start to move. We unwound the hose from the rear of the house and dragged it as far as it would go - which was about thirty feet shorter than we needed. We then got the hose from the front of the house and attached it to the hose out back - which afforded us enough hose length to reach the base of the tree. As the hose at the rear of the house can only be turned on from inside the house....yeah, I don't get that either, but we don't have time for that right now....in attaching second hose to the first Hubs elected to not shut the water supply off. Which left him standing in the back yard getting soaking wet connecting two hoses. Which set off an even longer tirade of expletives as you can all surely imagine.

After success with the hose connection we both tromped off into the woods in an effort to now hose the cat out of the tree.....it's now 8:30 and starting to get dark. The cat has been in the tree since 3pm.

We both stood at the base of the tree, The Mister with nozzle in hand, and decided that we both felt a little guilty about what we were about to do, but knowing we had exhausted all other options -short of calling the fire department - which we both realized was cliche and out of the question. The Mister aimed the nozzle and fired. And fired some more. And after that fired some more. Now we had a cat that was forty feet up in a tree and wet. And the ladder was wet also. I had remarked to Hubs at during a pause in his water boarding of our cat ( which I think he secretly enjoyed..) that it was like we had our very own Gitmo.

Know what happens to things that go up in the air ? At some point they come down. Turnips, hub caps, soda bottles, even drops of water. They all come back down. I imagine that the sound of the watering coming back down through the jungle-like canopy of the woods is probably what the Amazon sounds like during the rainy season.

Get a visual of this: The Mister and I standing in the woods. Brand spanking new,wet 16' ladder leaned up against as tree. The Mister holding a garden hose and now soaking wet. Me dirty with tree stuff and now wet and the only real bonus I got was that mascara was now running down my face. And the cat was still in the tree.

All the frustration and....maybe not anger..more like annoyance on steroids we had been dealing with for last few hours had melted away. As we stood in the woods we began to laugh at the situation we found ourselves in. Although if the Asshat that owned the dog was still in my immediate vicinity I would have most likely punched him in the throat.

At 10PM I decided that as cliche and ridiculous as it was, we were going to have to involve our local fire professionals. I steadfastly refused to call 911 and had Hubs drive me to the local fire station. At 10 o'clock at night. I knocked on the fire station door. No answer. I pounded on the door. Nothing. I looked for the door bell. There wasn't one. I then stood in the fire station driveway and began to yell in the direction of the second floor windows. Finally someone opened the door - much like the doorman at the gate to the Emerald City he was cranky and wanted to know just what the hell I wanted at such a late hour. I explained the entire cat in the tree drama in ten part harmony to him. And much like my cat,he too was unimpressed. Getting to the point, I asked Mr. Nice Fireman if perhaps the fire station had a 40' ladder we could borrow. They didn't. He wasn't a great emoter and had no other suggestions for me. I should tell you that during my embarrass-myself-in-front-of-the-fire-station episode The Mister refused to exit the car and went so far as to strategically place the car on a dark section of the street so Mr. Nice Fireman wouldn't see who the poor asshole married to the loony woman with the cat in the tree was.
Things had become desperate. It was now after 10pm and had begun to pour rain. The cat was still forty feet up in a tree with no plans of descending. My last pitch of cat-tree-removal was to buy a chain saw and cut the tree down. The Mister was having no part of my delusional lumberjack inspired fantasy and in the process had decided that the cat had given him enough grief for one day and as far as he was concerned the " fucker could stay up there all fucking night. " or something like that...

Going on 11PM I was now completely undone at the thought of my poor baby in the tree getting rained on. The Mister and I had a small tiff and I stomped off to bed. Apparently he had felt some post-tiff guilt or perhaps he knew if he did not try every possible means of cat-tree-removal he was never going to get laid again.....while I was in a pre-sleep coma he was Googling " How to get a cat out of a tree ".

Wanna know some alternative methods of how to remove a cat from a tree, you know, if none of the things we tried work for you should you find yourself in a similar situation.

1) Call your local chapter of the humane society. The have professional animal handlers who who will do the cat-tree-removal thing for a small fee.

or

2) Find a laundry basket. Place a warm, fuzzy towel in the bottom along with some cat food. Affix a rope around the handles and a large rock to the other end of the rope. Toss the rock end of the rope and then fling that end on as a high a branch as you can. Now raise the basket up using the rock end of the rope that has come down. The point being that the cat will shimmy down to the basket featuring warm, fuzzy towel and food, then once in the basket you lower the basket down to the ground.

Our cat elected to come out of the tree of her own accord sometime around midnight. She was wet, hungry and I'm pretty sure she had PTSD.

She spent all day today hiding under our bed. The dumb dog next door was on a run today.

Today's RMF is I Wanna Be Sedated by The Ramones. Earlier in the day, before the narcs kicked in - Hubs and I heard this song on the radio and he remarked that he sure wished he'd been sedated prior to having his face drilled open. Then again later, while connecting the two sections of hose, he paused, looked over to me and said....." You know when I said earlier that I wanted to be sedated....THIS WOULD BE A GOOD TIME TOO ! " - followed by more expletives.

I Wanna Be Sedated was initailly released in 1978 - I was two, but didn't hit big until 1980- I was four.

That is all I have for now. I hope you all have a fantastic weekend, m'kay ?
XO
Bunny

Checkin' His Zen.

Remember a few posts ago when I stated that The Mister is capable of some truly profound statements ? That wasn't BS.

Last night while we were laying in bed, just as the Sox were finishing off the Yankees like so many crazy uncles ( we all have at least one...) finishing off a can, or ten, of beer.. and we were just about to shut the TV off and go to sleep The Mister turned toward me and stated the following;
I should preface this by saying he has a nasty, infected 1/2 root canal thing going on and he was largely under the influence of prescription narcotics & antibiotics for most of the day yesterday....

" Ugh, my head feels like an empty can full of rocks. "

A smile stretched broad across my face and I began to giggle a wee bit.

" An empty can full of rocks, huh ? " I said

He responded " Shut up. " and rolled over and went to sleep.

I think this may be The Mister dipping his big toe into the Zen pool. What's could possibly be next ? Incense ? Greeting me with " Namaste " when I call him on his cell ? Forsaking all earthly possessions ?

XO
Bunny

My Size Nine Dirty Secret And Other Things Of Questionable Taste.

Ok, I have a dirty little secret. Or as the title of this post points out, my dirty secret is a size nine.

From May to about the end of September I refuse to wear shoes that interfere with the rays of the sun directly hitting my feet. My toes have a desperate need to feel free and unencumbered by pesky socks or any other footwear that could possibly be construed as " sensible ".

Which means that during the work week I am all about the strappy wedge, kitten heel....what have you.....

On the weekends....yep, barefoot. Unless I am going out in public. Being shoe-less in public....well, the last time I checked I would be last person that would be confused with Britney Spears.

I realize that I am quite fond of the anecdote.....but,

When The Mister and I lived in Indiana and worked for a supermarket chain ( which could be considered two more dirty little secrets...but really, I have certain portions of my life that I have blocked out. So it can't really be a secret if I can only recall but the vaguest bits of information from these times...) and the Siberian outpost store they sent me to was an education that I could have not received in an institution of higher learning. People took their kids into the supermarket barefoot. IN THE SUPERMARKET ! I should tell you that these were not cherub-cheeked infants in baby carriers...no, no...we're talking six, seven and eight year olds.

And then they'd take these same shoe-less kids INTO THE BATHROOM ! ICK !


At any rate, around the house and yard I am barefoot. And at the end of the day I wear the organic matter stuck to my feet like a badge of honor. A stray piece of mulch, blades of grass, those oval pointed pods that fall off the rhododendrons....all of it. I especially love my shiny, smooth, pink polished toenails peeking out from a cloud of dirt like some sort of Transsexual Pig Pen.

I always tend to my tootsies at the end of the day. I'm not sure why I am always surprised at just how disgusting my feet can get. The Mister has seen the byproduct of what I have scraped off my feet in the bottom of the shower and refers to it as " The Chopped Salad " - a phrase which is almost always accompanied by look on his face like you've just seen two of your neighbors dogs humping in your front yard.


You would be shocked to know, dear readers, that I am not the funny one within the confines of our house. It's true, you can ask anyone. The Mister is hi.lar.e.ous.
True story, he actually made me laugh so hard once I peed my pants. Not a lot, just a little drip.
But still, I think it qualifies.

So anyway, there is just one in a long list of my dirty little secrets.



Ok, as if we'd hadn't gone down this road yet.....onto " Other Things Of Questionable Taste ",


Jon Knight is still hot. Yep, I've hung onto this one for a long time. Man oh man, if I even get my hands on him......Hoooo Boy! I don't really care if he might bat for the other team. As one dear friend of mine so elegantly pointed out....." Who cares if he's nice to look at ? " True dat.
I have to say, I have a fantasy or two about Mr. Knight.....one involves a can of Duncan Hines dark chocolate frosting....the other ends with him washing my car.

I know what you're thinking Internet.....why not try out the Duncan Hines thing on The Mister ? Well, because I'm pretty sure Mr. Knight does, or pays someone to do, a through manscaping job and The Mister.....well, the thought of chocolate frosting matting his modestly trimmed chest hair ?? Then I'd just end up washing the sheets? Yeah....my fantasies never end with me standing over the washer. I don't think any woman's does.

Except maybe Martha Stewart. I can see her commanding some dirt-poor-but-good-looking recent illegal immigrant with a marginal understanding of the English language to massage her calves or take his time bending over the dishwasher or verbally abusing him with empty threats of deportation if he doesn't polish the silver candelabra just so, all the while telling him how pretty he is....how nice his tan is, etc ? Can you just see the headline on the Huffington Post...." Martha Stewart Sued For Sexual Harassment " Some ACLU pro-bono newbie would get the case and hold a press conference on the street in front of Martha's compound. You know, some fresh-faced 24 year old with an ill-fitting suit from Dress Barn, the ink not even dried on her law degree....

Prison may have humanized her a bit....but she's not to be trusted. Take note peeps....there is some skeevy, undercover shit going on with Ms. Stewart. Trust me. It's just a matter of time before shit goes down.
Hey, did any of you know that Martha's daughter has a show where she and her BFF sit and watch old 80's episodes of The Martha Show ala Mystery Science Theatre 3000 and just rip c.1986 Martha to shreds ?


Whoa..I just got way, way off track there.....


Speaking of those on my " Freebie List ", I beseech you ladies....PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE vote for George Clooney. I'm begging you.....we can't let this guy win. He is not hot. He's not. Reality check...he's only hot to 'tween girls because he is non-threatening. Because he looks like an amalgamation of every kid in HS who lived and breathed auto shop class. It's a fine line between looking come-hither and looking stoned. I think we all know on what side of the fence he's on...the side with all the other doob smokers standing behind the dumpster.

The sad thing is that this pathetic loser is probably making moolah hand over fist and is spending it all on skinny jeans, sushi, new Wii games and call girls, and yet my co-workers and I have to rally at the state house to keep from losing our jobs to budget cuts.

Ok, getting off my soapbox now......



The Mister is thinking about getting another tat. I won't go into it too in depth because he only speaks of this tat while under the influence of Jamesons or Bushmills. I'm never sure how serious he is. If he speaks of it sober, then I might blog about it again. Until then...we'll see if this just the whisky talking or if he's really serious. You know why God invented whisky, right ? To keep the Irish from ruling the world. hehe.

Oh hey, guess what ? I finally got that paper signed by Dr. Dumbass. It's amazing just how effective waving a handgun around can be.
Although, as always seems to happen with me, now that this issue has been put to rest ( or put through the fax machine as it were.. ) it seems I have an entirely new issue to contend with regarding the very same client. Without getting too graphic.....if my client's apartment at the assisted living facility were a Catholic Church it would be named one of the following;

St. John Of The Shit-Stained Toilet.
or
Our Lady Of The Perpetually Dirty Bathroom
or
The Holy Mystery Of The Lifesavers Wrappers On The Floor.
or
The Divine Crumbs of St. Lay-Z-Boy

and I have to say, I've had quite a few religious experiences in this apartment. Like the mystery of how I spend two hours cleaning and reorganizing her walk in closet and not two days later it is totally trashed. Or how it is I put sets of matching sheets in the closet and yet the sheets that end up on the bed are always mismatched. Or how it is that her one houseplant has been near death more than a dozen times, yet after watering on the third day it seems to rise again ?

I should also tell you that this client in her advancing age has become hard of hearing. So our conversation's usually go something like this.

Me: How was your day today ?
::::::Client ignores me::::::::::
Me ( again, only in a slightly louder tone ): How was your day today ?
Her ( puzzled look at me ): Huh ?
Me ( even louder ): I said, how was your day today ?
Her: What ?
Me ( almost yelling ): How. Was. Your. Day. Today ?????
Her: Oh..........waffles.
Me( heavy, exaggerated sigh ): No, I ASKED YOUR HOW YOUR DAY WAS TODAY ??
Her: I don't know what the hell you're saying - I fell on my head too many times. ( pats forehead )
Me ( turns the volume down on the TV ) I ASKED HOW. WAS. YOUR. DAY. TODAY ?
Her ( annoyed ): Wha ??
Me: YOUR DAY ? HOW WAS IT TODAY ????
Her: Why are you yelling at me ? ( taking an accusing tone ) You know, you've never taken me to see The Rockettes !

I know, hearing aids are on my To-Do list for her.

The Mister has to have part 2 of a root canal finished up tomorrow...so keep him and his puffy, festering, infected lip in your collective thoughts.

Night All !
XO

Bunny

Retro Music Friday.

Think Doctors are smart ? Guess again. I am convinced that in some instances M.D. stands for Major Dumbass and / or Douchebag depending on the situation at hand.

I have had an unquantifiable number of interactions of medical professionals. Some " get it " and some don't.

I found out yesterday that one I thought " got it " clearly does / did not. This is the point wherein my job is causing an exponential increase in my Vodka bills. I prefer Kettle One and believe you me, that shit ain't cheap.

* Note to self - find Package store that offers home delivery *

At any rate, as I was saying....I needed this particular Doctor to sign his name and nothing else to one, ONE piece of paper and fax it back to me. Easy enough for those of us with an IQ greater than a bowl of Corn Flakes, right ?

I had to call this Doctor three times. Three. Times. I left three messages. Three messages speaking to the fact that I needed him to sign the paper I had faxed to him and then take the very same paper and fax it back to me. I spoke with his secretary ( she is worthy of an entire blog post unto herself...no time for any witty literary observations about her right now.....but sufficed to say if you pay peanuts you get monkeys.) who advised me to call his pager service and talk to him myself...I know what you're all thinking...... " But Bunny, isn't that her job ??" You would think. I paged him via his answering service. No return call.

As flames were shooting from my ears I thought it best to wait until the next day and call again. I spoke with the secretary again and tried in vain to communicate my needs to her, which at this point was like trying to communicate IKEA furniture assembly directions to a baboon.

She suggested that since I was trying to procure this ONE piece of paper on behalf of a third party I should have the third party call him on his answering service.

I guess to this point I have failed to tell all of you, dear readers, that I was merely the middle man in all of this.

I got in touch with persons of authority in the third party and communicated my needs to them. And since it had been a few weeks without the third party calling me to request this piece of paper I thought all was good.

But last night - at 6:30 PM - while I was driving home. My work week done. - my cell phone rang.

It was the third party. They still do not have the paper in question.

I refrained from verbalizing a stream of obscenities and was quite proud of myself for sounding as professional as I did despite the flesh that had begun to melt from my face. . I assured them that I would handle this problem today - on my day off.

As my cell phone has not stopped ringing for oh.....eight months ( even on my days off )....I had had enough. After I hung up with the third party I shut my phone off.

As I pulled into the driveway last night I noticed that The Mister was in the back yard mowing the lawn. I stood at the edge of the lawn a significant distance from him and waited to make eye contact with him. After a moment or so our eyes met. We smiled at each other. I held up my cell phone for him to see it. He looked at me quizzically. I then - doing my best impression of Josh Beckett - launched my cell as far as I could. I think it landed in the woods. I then turned around and went back to the driveway to retrieve the remainder of my things from my car. The Mister ( love him ! ) shut the mower off and found my cell. He then came up to the porch, cell in hand, brushed the dirt from it and turned it on to make sure it still worked.

It did. He then set the phone down on the patio table.

Guess what happened not 15 seconds after he set it down?

IT RANG AGAIN !

The Mister laughed kind of this Oh-my-god-you're-right-this-fucker-never-stops-ringing-I-thought-you-were-just-being-a-bit-of-a-drama-queen-now-I-finally-get-why-you-appear-to-be-losing-your-marbles laugh.

OK, I got off track there.......

Here is an open letter to the Doctor who I'm pretty sure is going to give me an ulcer.

Dear Dr. (_____),

I realize that you are a very busy man. I have no doubts that I am a small pebble, an insignificant gnat if you will, in the grand scheme of things that require your attention. I am willing to overlook the fact that your secretary took the time to finish a piece of chocolate cake while siting at the reception desk before she chose to address me while I stood not two feet from her for at least ten minutes. Or that time you were 45 minutes late for an appointment. Or that time you were an hour late for an appointment.

I'm willing to overlook the cat fur that always seems to be stuck to your pant legs - or the fact that you don't seem to own a comb.

I'm willing to overlook the fact that you display behavior much like that of a Muppet on crack. Cause really, I think you might possibly be on the spectrum and may be in need of services much like the ones I provide.

But all that aside, if you would be so kind as to fulfill this one request I have I can promise you I will remove myself from your uncombed hair. I'll make this easy for you.....I'm going to talk you through this much like I have to explain things to one of my clients..... Ready ?

Look through your inbox and find the paper I faxed to you. In fact it might be two papers as I also employed the use of a cover sheet.

Find it ? OK good. Now see the second page ? No - that is the cover sheet, put that aside for now....Nope. Put that down, we don't need the cover sheet yet. The second paper. Yep, that one.

Ok, now see at the bottom of the page ? The big X ? See it? No, look at the bottom of the page. The bottom. No, don't turn the page over. Look at the bottom of the page for the very large X. See it ? The Big X ? Ok good, you found it. Now get a pen. It's ok, I can wait - just find a pen. Got a pen ? Oooo, you're right, that is a nice pen. But lets not get distracted here....ok, ooop...I'm pretty sure that pen does not have a cap. It looks like a click pen to me. No, don't pull it apart,it clicks...no..stop pulling it....it clicks. Put your thumb on the end...no, the other end. Now press down. Hear it click ? Remember that for next time.

Alright, now...you remember the big X at the bottom of the page ? Ok now sign your name. No, not my name...YOUR NAME.

Wow, nice job writing your name !

Ok, now you need to go find the fax machine. Wait wait, take the cover sheet with you. The cover sheet....you put it down. Yeah, we need that now. Got both papers now ? Fantastic. Now the fax machine. I'm pretty sure the secretary knows where it is. Find it? Good. I know, just brush the chocolate cake crumbs off it. Now, remember that cover sheet, the one where I wrote that I needed you to sign the second paper ? See where at the top of the page there is a bunch of numbers ? Look at the top of the page...see the address ? Now look underneath the address...there are a bunch of numbers...the first one that reads PHONE next to it, underneath that one..see where it reads FAX ? The numbers....yep, those are the ones. Now put the paper you signed down in the top of the machine, no..the other way. With all the words down so you can't see them. It's ok, it doesn't matter what way in goes in there...just make it so you see the blank side of the page.

Now see all the number buttons on the top of the machine ? Stop touching the paper, it's fine. The numbers....no, stop touching the paper. See the buttons that look like a phone ? Those. Now press the numbers next to....what did you do with the cover sheet ? It was just here...where is it ? Well, we need to find it. Ooop..hold on, I think it fell on the floor. Ok, now remember the numbers next to the word FAX ? Stop touching the paper in the machine. Leave it alone, it's fine. Now see where it looks like a phone ? No, don't pick up the phone. No it's not really a phone, it just looks like one. That is really confusing, I know. Press the numbers on the top of the machine just like they appear right next to where it reads FAX. PUT THE PHONE DOWN ! FOCUS ! We're almost done here. Ok, did you press all the numbers ? You sure ? Ok, now press the green button that has the word SEND on it. No, the green button. No, not that button. The one that is green. Wait, are you color blind ? No ? You sure ? Just checking. Now press the green button. Yep, that one. You don't have to hold it down. Stop pressing it. Take your finger off it. Now wait a second...does it sound like a phone dialing ? DON'T PICK UP THE PHONE !

It's dialing, that's good. No....no the paper in the top of the machine is supposed to do that...no....don't pull it out. No - it's supposed to do that. See, look it comes out the other side ? I know, pretty cool huh ? Is it all the way through on the the other side ? OK ! We're done. Nice job. You worked really hard on that ! I think we can get a treat now. Wanna go to Starbucks ? How does a frappacino and a cookie sound ? Sounds good to me too.

As I am profoundly tired of listening to the 1-800-54-GIANT commercials on the radio I put my 80's box set in the car not long ago. I heard this song on one of the CDs last night. I laughed as it seems to fit my current situation to a T.

This is Words by Missing Persons.

1981, I was 5.

Lyrics are HERE.

Have a nice Friday all !

XO

Bunny