Friday, August 27, 2010

Rated R for Sexual Situations

It's probably the sickest thing that has happened to me since the orange incident of 2004. But by sharing it and getting it out in the open I hope to release some of the horror that I am suffering through with the hourly flashbacks. Yesterday I was trimming the lavender in my flower beds (yes I am officially 65) and I looked down and saw two giant praying mantises having praying mantis sex on my forearm. Clearly they were exhibitionists because she was actively crawling up my arm with him on top. I freaked out and tossed them off. But from their dirty dirty deed they left this thick yellow-white mucus on my arm and right hand...and handle of my trimmers....and shirt... and shorts. It was every where. EVERYWHERE. And there was so... much.. of ..it. (Pause and deep breath) My stomach was turning and I wanted to scream but my neighbor was like 10 feet away getting into her car and I didn't want to cause alarm. But those dirty bugs just kept right on doing it. As my world was falling apart, still mounted, they started crawling up the side of the house, probably for maximum visibility for their sick voyeuristic bug friends. My silver lining, I thought, was that I would be able to see her rip his head off (as lore has it) after they were done. Nope. They just went about their business after. Damn progressives. Just be warned. It's the end of the summer and mantis love is in the air. If you see a mantis couple mounted flee immediately because I am pretty sure they are going to try and get you involved. And its NOT pretty.

Saturday, August 21, 2010

Dear Jaywalking Pedestrians in Salt Lake,


You've been testing me for years and now I'm done. I will no longer be yielding or stopping for you as you traipse across the road without a care. Maybe if I didn't live four blocks away from Energy Solutions Arena (with Jazz games, concerts and other crap every other freakin night) and three blocks away from the Gateway Mall (idiot tourists and moron teenagers), I would have a few more years of patience left in me. But I don't. Today driving by the downtown Farmer's market I heard the audible snap of my patience. And now you are at risk. Even if everyone else stops and enables your inconsideration I will not. YOU will wait for ME, even if you have to stand there in the middle of traffic. And if you don't, and care to play chicken with a Dodge Stratus, well then may God be with you........ Oh and just so you know, most likely there will be a scene. I am not scared of the horn and I will be yelling at you to pull your head out and you will look like a fool. Good Day.

Sincerely,
I'm Through.

Friday, August 20, 2010

Playing Dress-up....lets hope

Remember Chuck Norris' Walker Texas Ranger show? I am pretty sure my Dad started the cult in "cult following" when it comes to that series (and probably Norris in general. Well remember his side-kick who was a black dude that wasn't quite as badass as Walker (of course) but could do round-houses with the best of them. His get-up was usually a bit tighter than Chuck's and his name on the show was James? Well tell me my brother who in sending me this photo authorizes me to publish it wherever I deem worthy, couldn't have been his stunt double with just a little more sun. Dad: another reason to be proud of your oldest son......

Saturday, August 7, 2010

A Disneyland Story......

OOOOOOOOOOOOH...........




AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH........




UGH.......


RRRRRRRRRR........

Friday, August 6, 2010

Baffled

It was a day like any ordinary day. A day of errands and tasks on a typical midsummer Salt Lake afternoon. My man-friend and I had stopped at a local tire shop to get a couple new tires put on Abigale, my loyal Stratus, and we were waiting for them to finish, when out of nowhere we were hit with the inexplicable. He was of average build, fit, with some miniature muscles showing with his cut-off shirt. He was dressed in a masculine manner and wore nothing that would suggest femininity – he even had a tattoo. Moreover, his demeanor while talking to the manly mechanics at the shop was one of comfort and camaraderie, almost like he belong in a testosteron-ed tire shop – getting greasy and dirty while talking about motorbikes and loose women. But then I looked down and saw what he was toting, and to this day I have never been the same. He was carrying a bedazzled cat purse. Did he just like cats? Does he have a thing for Alice in Wonderland? And why did it have to be bedazzled? Bedazzled! I have been trying to conjure up a likely story so I can lay this to rest but I can come up with NOTHING. Nothing. I... Don’t.....Know. I don’t! And I probably never will. Ever. And I am not sure if I can live with that.