True Stories

* The bum that lives in the bus stop was wearing the Statue Of Liberty costume in front of Jackson Hewitt today. He had all his bum-clothes, including fingerless gloves and a pink beanie on underneath the costume.

* Facebook really, really wants me to be friends with several of my ex-boyfriends. You know what Facebook? You've got a pretty fucked up sense of humor. Let's make out.

* I had the following conversation with M yesterday;

M: You know that song? Flying Purple People eater?

Me: Yeah?

M: and how it says "One eyed, one horned"?

Me: Yeah?

M: I'm pretty sure it's about a penis.

* If you give a dog a wipe down with a shampoo dampened towel, thinking that it will be quicker and make less of a mess, that dog will wiggle and laugh and leave so much damp hair on you that you'll look like you just fucked a yeti.

* What? Like you never think about wild yeti sex? I don't believe you.

* M is pretty convinced that the internets are laughing at her. So she wants me to tell you that she is "too legit, too legit to quit" and also, that it's Hammer Time. I pointed out that would probably not help, but she just kept dancing. So I videoed it. If I was more techy I'd figure out how to email and post it. But I'm not, so you'll just have to take my word for it, a teenager doing the hammer dance in the produce aisle of Wal-Mart is pretty damn funny, but still not the weirdest thing that happens there.

* I work with a bunch of manly men motorcycle type dudes. They've got like 93,457 pictures of naked-ish ladies all over the office. But they made me put post-it pasties over the nipples of my shirtless fireman calender.

* We're going to the Grand Canyon tomorrow. It's 70* here in the Valley, which is why people come to visit us, so we're going to take them to the only place in the whole state with daily highs near freezing. Because we're good hosts like that.

* A few years ago, I saw a psychic and she said I would have two kids and you know what? That's a pretty fucked up thing to tell someone. I'm still freaked out about that. I now set an alarm on my Crackberry to remind me to take that wee little pill each and every day.

* Husband fixed my water pump on the Juice last Saturday and it took, and I'm not even exaggerating one little bit, EIGHT trips to three different auto parts store.

* I saw the most wonderful, fantastic, CLASSY... No, let's make that KLASSIEST thing ever. EVER. I would have bought it, but frankly, I'm pretty sure I have too many teeth and not enough Nascar related tattoo's. And what, you may ask is this beautiful treasure? This paragon of style?

That's right, it's a LIMITED EDITION Jeff Burton Crock Pot! PERFECT for beanie-weines on Dayton 500 day!

And with that, I leave you. Because I still have like, um, 12 or 30 reports to finish for my year end files that must be completed, approved, signed off on, transmitted, filed in triplicate and probably at least one other step I'm forgetting, all before Monday at noon.