Saturday, August 20, 2005

you were just too damn dull for me

There is one REALLY nice thing about having a doggie.
When I say, "Holly, nobody ever licks my toes," she will.

I wanted to post this the other day and I forgot. If you have indoor pets, you have GOT to get one of those rubber brooms they keep advertising. They kind of casually mention along with other things how good it is for pet hair. I bought one and tried it last week. Oy. I ran the sweeper FIRST then went over the rug with the broom. You would not believe the amount of pet hair I brushed up from Holly after the sweeper had supposedly done it's job.

In the never ending battle of the bedroom suits aka FurnitureGate 2005, I called my sister and asked if there was any chance she'd want to switch bedroom suits with me. She said no she had her heart set on grandma's. No biggie. BUT, one of my nieces came to visit a little while ago, and apparently she was at my mother's when she called my sister BEFORE me and told her NOT to switch, that I was getting the dining room suit and that was enough. Lordy, ya gotta love those kids that blab all.
(Well except if they're one of MINE, but I have my offspring very well trained to say nada of importance. Unfortunately they've applied it TO ME too!!)
The thing that angers me--you know other than telling me to my face to ask my sister if she'd switch, then the going behind my back thingy?--is that my mother won't let me take just the bed. And it doesn't even freaking MATCH the other two pieces!! Soooooo, JUST TO MAJORLY PISS HER OFF, I called my mother and left this message on the answering machine,"I want the bed, so I'll take Uncle ****'s bedroom suit and while they have the truck, I'll have the guys take the two pieces I don't want to the Goodwill." Yes, that's right. I'm not above that sort of behavior at all.
Last night, in an all out bid to get me to take the crap, she said, "I think Uncle ****'s furniture is antique, too." It isn't, trust me.
I said, "I don't care if Noah built it, I don't like it."
If I refinish that godawful furniture, I'd take it in a heartbeat because I like doing that sort of work. But I don't even think it's real wood. It's that shiny, crappy wood laminate stuff that can't be refinished.

While we were at my uncle's yesterday, my husband said to my mother, "Who's getting that chair in the living room with the footstool?" Poor Mr. G is dying for a nice Lazy Boy. My mother says, "Oh, that's his newest chair." Then immediately went on to talk about something else. Later, Mr G said, "She never did answer me about that chair." I said "Yeah, she did. If it's the "newest chair" that means my brother is getting it." I've pretty much come to live with that sort of attitude, but I can easily see why some families get into an out and out war over "stuff." And this my friends is a prime example of WHY I don't keep in close contact with my family, save for my one sister, who lives in the South. My mother has her favorites and I ain't one of them.

If I bitchslapped my co-worker really hard, I wonder what the odds are that my arresting officer would be a really hot(t) guy? This TWIT--my co-worker, not the hot(t) arresting officer--asked me two days ago if I would work for her on Sunday, knowing full well she had been planning a party for her husband for WEEKS. I should have said NO! but it'll give me Friday off and that means Holly won't have to be by herself until Monday the 29th and that's important to me. Poor dog has separation anxiety issues.
So this chick called me last night and says, "The boss wants such and such done on Sunday. If you get here and it's not done, let me know and I'll do it Monday." I said, "Now how's that going to work? If it needs done on Sunday, obviously I'm going to have to do it." She gives one of those "Ooooooo's" along with the sigh of pseudo-regret, as if she's oh so sorry to have stuck me with it, but how could she possibly have known??!! Uh huh and my ass is make of cheese. I said, "Here's an idea. Why don't YOU do it on Saturday?" And she said, "Oooh, I have way too much to do." Pfffffffffft. What a sack of crap that is.
Maybe it's just me and my stupid sense of responsibility, but when I ask someone to fill in for me, if there's something that has to be accomplished before they get there--even if it's a task I might not particularly like doing!!!--I see to it that it's done. I don't want somebody stepping in shit because they're not prepared when they're doing me a favor.

Ok, my niece sent me an Irish luck forward. Somebody explain this to me. It gives you a cutesy little song and dance poem, then a line about how "they" did this and all their freaking wishes came true, THEN at the bottom it says, "Send this to one person, your wish will come true in a year, three people, 6 months, 5 people, 3 months and 6 people, 1 month. After that it says, "Send this to two people and you will automatically have three years of good luck." Now how the HELL does that work? If I sit here and annoy six people rather than two, I certain deserve to have three YEARS of good luck, don't I?

Hee Haw. "Recently, a distraught wife went to the local police station, along with her next-door neighbor, to report that her husband was missing. The policeman asked for a description of the missing man.
The wife said, "He is 35 years old, 6-foot 4-inches, has dark eyes, dark wavy hair, an athletic build, weighs 185 pounds, is soft-spoken, and is good to the children."
The next-door neighbor protested, "Your husband is 5-foot 8-inches, chubby, bald, has a big mouth, and is mean to your children."
The wife replied, 'Yes, but who wants HIM back?' "

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