I'm a Winner!

I've been playing the current United scratch-off game for several weeks and finally won something!

My prize? A coupon for a free pkg. of Kotex® Maxi Pads

I'll have to redeem the coupon soon as it's only valid for a short period.

It's Lent

Well, no, it's not, but I was visiting Alison's blog and re-read some of the posts and noticed she had mentioned Lent. I remember reading it when she posted it and almost posted a favorite joke, but decided I best not.

I try not to tell dirty jokes on my friend's blogs. Instead, I'll tell them here:

---

A couple were on their honeymoon and that first night the woman eagerly reached over for her new husband.

"I can't, hon." he said, gently pushing her away.

"What do you mean you can't?" she asked, incredulous.

"Well...it's Lent." he explained.

She looked at him, puzzled.

"That's silly! To who and for how long?"

Shotgun House

I was going through the photos in the Picassa slideshow and had forgotten I had put this photo into the mix.

It's not a particularly good photo and wouldn't mean anything to anyone else but my family and I because it was where my grandparents lived when I was a boy.

It's called a "shotgun house" because it's long and narrow and if you stuck a shotgun in the front door and pulled the trigger, you would hit every room in the house.

I have some fond memories of the house and staying there with my grandparents. There was a "play house" at the back of the garage and my sisters, cousins and I liked to decorate the inside with pages cut out from a magazine and stuck to the walls with flour glue.

I recall some guys in an old pickup driving down the alley and stopping, trying to coax my big sis over to their vehicle. She was wary and someone ran into the house to tell my dad and he ran out there but the guys had already left. I don't know what their intentions were, but I darn sure know what my dad's were. They were lucky he didn't catch them.

I also remember playing baseball with my cousin and some neighborhood boys. My cousin hit the ball and it broke a window; the next thing I know, I was standing there alone with the bat my cuz had quickly thrust into my hand before he ran away with the other kids. Grandpa believed me when I told him I hadn't done it, and gave me some grudging admiration for not snitching on who had done the dirty deed. I believe he knew who had done it even before he came out of the house.

I remember climbing on top of the garage and jumping off, just like a paratrooper, yelling "Geronimo!". Grandma saw me and told me to not jump off, and from now on to stay off the roof. Being the good boy I always was -grin- , I tried climbing down but slipped and fell on my back and hit my head on the sidewalk. Reaching back to feel the growing knot on my head, my hand came away with blood on it. I freaked out a little bit, but with only a sniffle or two, I went inside to let Grandma survey the damage to my head. It was just a little cut, but when Grandpa looked at the minor damage to my scalp and said "My gosh, I can see all the way down to your toes!", I lost it.

Before my grandparents passed away I was visiting them and we remembered that and Grandma STILL chastised Grandpa for scaring me like that. Grandma always called me her "little Mikey man". She's just about the only person I ever allowed to call me that.

The things I remember the most about that house were Grandma's chicken and dumplings and how the entire family would gather there for Christmas. I don't see how we all fit into the small shack. I also remember Grandma getting a kick out of me coming into the house and asking her sister if I could go down the street to play; they were twins and always were amused when people were confused as to who was who.

Here's me 'n Grandpa, sitting in front of the window that was broken.



I miss 'em.

"Going in Circles"

You Are a Ferris Wheel

Deep down, you are a fun, whimsical, and easygoing person. You often enjoy life for what it is, and the littlest changes in course can be quite thrilling. In relationships, people tend to feel what you feel. It can be liberating at first... But after a while, the people closest to you end up feeling a little trapped. Your life has perfectly normal cycles of ups and downs. However, you can't help but sometimes feel that you're missing out on the most exciting aspects of life. You only are happy when you're experiencing the highest of highs. Your low points just make you feel depressed, restless, and bored. At your best, you feel on top of the world with a great sense of perspective. You believe that anything is possible, and that you are happily looking down on everyone else. At your worst, you feel like your life is going in circles. You often feel like you're not going anywhere. This is sometimes psychologically disorienting. And sometimes it brings on a sense of hopelessness.

What Carnival Ride Are You?

Vacation - The Go-Go's

Use Your Head, Wal-Mart

JUST got back from the local WallyWorld; I had purchased some new socks, cat food, some cashews and a few other items.

The store was crowded, even for a Saturday evening. As always, the other customers were rude and so were the employees.

(Why do teens have to walk four abreast down the narrow WM aisles? I've quit giving right-of-way and started ramming my cart into them, aiming right at the crotch of the nearest one pushing me into the merchandise. Maybe I'll make one of 'em sterile so those rudeness genes won't be passed on. It will be my gift to the world, you don't have to thank me)

I wanted to get the Beej some of his favorite cat food and crunchy treats, but there was a stocker right in front of the brand I usually buy. It looked as though he was nearly done, so I killed a few seconds looking at the fish tanks. I was starting to get the exact same disposition of the Oscars that were fighting in one of the tanks.

I looked over and noticed the guy was through, so I stood there waiting for him to move out of the way.

"Fish?" he asked me.

"Uh..." I stammered. "I'm going to get some tuna, maybe some of that duck with rice."

Now was his turn to be perplexed. "No, tropical fish." he explained.

I almost said I didn't know they had that particular flavor, but I bet the Beej would probably like it...then it dawned on me what he meant. Oh well.

I finally got done and made my way up to the front. Oh boy, there were only a few checkouts open and they were all busy.

I stood in line for about five minutes waiting to be checked out when I was informed the line was closing and "would I please move to another line?" I did, no complaints. Just my luck, I thought, but also wondering why the store wouldn't schedule a few more checkers on a Saturday.

I then waited for fifteen or more minutes in THAT line only to have my debit card keep getting rejected for some unknown reason. The cashier had to take it and scan it on her register and it went through just fine.

(I'll have to check the statement at the end of the month; the charge will probably show up as many times as I swiped the card through the reader.)

"Been having problems with that all day." the cashier informed me. Hmmmm...I thought, wondering why no one had attempted to repair it, or barring that, hadn't put an "Out of Order" sign on it? No problem, I got it paid for and was on my way out when I was held up by my arm by some young idjit checking packages at the exit. Ouch. His dirty fingernails were scratching my skin.

One too many straws for this camel's back.

"Take your hand off my arm." I told the guy "Unless you want me to rip yours off and beat you to death with it."

"Just doin' my job." said the acne covered idjit with a sniff. He didn't know how close to dismemberment he had come. "Silly damn job." I told him, looking him square in the eye, daring him to get huffy with me. I was in the mood for some violence by then.

"I have to do it." he told me. "You have some items that aren't in sacks."

The items? A 12-pk of Diet Lemon Tea and a case of water in 20oz. bottles. I don't think Wal-Mart HAS sacks that large. I'll make sure they're sacked up somehow the next time I'm there, though. (maybe I'll steal 'em, put them in my pants. Better yet, I'll swipe some high-ticket items, put them in a sack because that seems to be the criteria for proving they were purchased)

Yes, there will be a next time. (won't steal though, that was just hyperbole) Wal-Mart is very nearly the only game in town, especially for certain items. It's bad enough we have to put up with trying to find employees when we need help and when we DO find them and ask them a question, we then get an attitude of annnoyance and/or ignorance...and to add the worst thing, we have to purchase items made in China. (what happened to their "Made in America" campaign from a few years ago?)

To top that off, we get fat, pimple-faced idjits loving their lofty position of "authority", not using what little brains they have in their heads, harrassing the customers as they leave, insisting upon seeing proof of purchase for items that are already our property.

I can think of a thousand items I would steal before I would water and iced tea.

I guess the idjit knew I was displeased; if he hadn't gotten the hint with my threat, he certainly got it when I told him to perform an impossible sexual act upon himself. He glanced at my receipt and thrust it back at me. "Have a nice day, sir." he told me. I repeated my previous statement, wanting to make sure he had understood just how angry I was.

An older lady nearby heard me, and I was immediately ashamed...not because of what I had said, but because I had said it in front of a woman.

"Sorry." I told her. "My momma taught me better than that."

"I should hope so." the lady said. "But, to be honest..." she went on, leaned towards me and in a whisper:

"I was thinking the same thing."