Guest towels from the spare bathroom you nail into a long piece of wood when your wife isn’t looking.
Foolishness –
The gift a friend gives you because she knows you’re allergic to horsefly bites.
With a name like the Bug Bite Thing, you don’t expect it to work.
And no surprise, it didn’t. A horsefly bit me, I suctioned my arm as directed and still swelled up like a politician at a pay by the plate fundraising dinner.
More foolishness –
Contains 40% urea.
WTF!
Don’t know what urea is?
Google it, I’ll wait.
**********************
Right?
Who in the world wants to rub urine on their feet.
And on the off chance I ever do? I’ll save myself some money and ask the neighbor’s dog to pee on me. Lord knows he’s been trying to for years.
The Crunch Cup. So you can drink your morning cereal…
Most important meal of the day? Maybe.
But you should know my husband’s cardiologist (the top rated man at the largest and best hospital in our state) said breakfast cereal is a top contributor to obesity and diabetes in this country. He won’t even allow it in his house.
So no cereal sippy cups for us.
Toaster bags.
Now I don’t know about you, but the day I’m too lazy to butter my bread?
I’ll just hang it up for good and take to my bed with a case of Patron.
No, this is not an iPhone ball delivery system for playing catch with Fido.
Pooch Selfies.
Kill me now.
Okay…. I can almost see the attraction here.
And while this may look a little odd?
The Guzzle Buddy has my name written all over it.
But this?
This is a bridge too far.
No.
Just… no.
I don’t know about you?
But a hydrated ass is the least of my worries right now.
For the next few afternoons I’m going to be my usual helpful self and give you something to do while you’re quarantining yourself at home like a good viral citizen.
Lately the net has been filled with clever and creative ways to occupy your time…. but I’m going to share one from the Getty Museum that really made me smile.
Since visits to their museum have been cancelled for the near future, they challenged their members to re-create their favorite works of art.
Here are some of my favorites:
The original…
The re-creation….
Kudos to this couple.
I don’t know what the hell he put on his head, but damn.
It works.
The original…
The re-creation….
I’m not sure Dali would approve, but I’ll give them an A for effort.
And finally, here’s one that’s better seen by side.
Why is it that 3 weeks on vacation flies like the wind, but 3 weeks staying home feels like 6 months?
I know I shouldn’t complain. We’re blessed my husband can work from home and keep a steady paycheck. But Lord…. what I wouldn’t give for Direct TV to gasp it’s last breath.
My husband is a news hound. Which is mildly annoying any other time… but now?
It feeds the hypochondria he inherited from his mother and his sometimes slightly paranoid nature.
No, I don’t want to hear the new death toll number.
And no, I definitely don’t want to see another Presidential news conference which are anything but.
If only.
In other news, our stores are still out of toilet paper. And people are posting sightings like it’s Bigfoot…. or something hovering over Roswell, New Mexico.
“There’s a dozen packages of Cottonelle on Aisle 6, Hannaford in Westbrook.”
Go!
“A new shipment of Charmin on Aisle 10, Shaws in Rockland?”
Hurry!
It really is ridiculous.
And makes you wonder what we’re going to do if this trend continues.
So we got up bright and early to make the almost 5 hour drive down to North Carolina.
Required Christmas selfie.
And as we were walking down the sidewalk of our resort it struck me…..
I might not be the only one who cursed my husband’s choice of the behemoth rental car.
It was an uneventful trip.
But we saw lots of cotton.
Really, a whole lot of cotton.
And absolutely nothing else. Nothing for miles and miles… except cotton… and I was starting to sweat the steadily dropping level of gasoline.
Behemoths be thirsty.
I also took issue with Apple maps when the GPS put us in the middle of a National Forest and told us to turn around.
WTF?
When the rental beast was pretty much running on fumes, we finally found a service station to fill it…. and us, since we skipped breakfast. The only choice was Subway, where I ordered a rotisserie chicken wrap and managed to leak half of the sauce on my blouse resulting in a large greasy stain.
My first words upon arrival in N.C. weren’t “Merry Christmas!” but….. “Let me raid your closet.”
My second words were “What you would like to drink?” as I unpacked my carton of holiday cheer.
Destiny chose a bottle to match her sweater, because coordination is everything.
We gave them our gifts…. and Gracie liked the books.
Though I think she liked the pig a little bit more.
We spent time with our daughter of the heart’s step children, John being home on leave from the Army.
As you can see they aren’t young enough to be hers…. because like me, she married an older man. Which her mother thinks I’m responsible for and never lets me forget, but hey.
It worked for me.
An old Marine Corps buddy of the husband’s came with us…. and it was a laid back country Christmas with lots of love and laughter.
A few highlights:
My bartending skills were highly rated.
And strange toys were questioned.
Does a llama really need to shake her booty?
But more importantly, why was this horror voted toy of the year in Australia?
