Crap. National Night Out. It was evening not day. Oy.
Hah, swampy! I’m not insane! (thanks Wile E.)
I think that you’ve done much worse before, swampy. That seems tame compared to some of the exchanges we’ve seen. I rate it a 7.5 on the “Things that oog other people out, but I enjoyed reading and <snerk>ing” scale. The french judge gave it a 10, because he could tell that you haven’t shaved your armpits in a long time.
Besides, I foreshadowed my romp in another’s bed earlier anyways, and with no beer.
Making my schedule at McD’s is fun. I’ve scheduled myself for a nice, leisurely 11-5 tomorrow. 6 hours. I can handle 6 hours like a mofo.
Also, I just had to explain “mofo” to my mom. See, our cars in the driveway went like this, from front to back: Kia (no man’s car… we’re trying to find someone to buy it.), mom’s car, dad’s car, my car. Never mind the fact that we have a two-car garage, and a driveway/drive way of appropriate length. Dad will be leaving before midnight, followed by mom at 7, dad back at 8, and I’ll leave before 11. So Mom moves her car into garage. Down to Kia, blank, dad’s car, my car. I move my car into the other side, and parallel park (at night, with no streetlights) my car between the Kia and my dad’s car.
She interjects, saying that she could move my dad’s car to make it easier for me, after I’m done parking. I say “No problem, I can park like a mofo, except not really.”
Her: 
Me: The term predates me by at least 30 years.
Her: But… what does it mean?
Me: ************.
Her: Oh.
I think i’m gonna haveta get me a new one o’ those screen name thingys, 'cause when CD was posting to Swampy, I thought he typed Sneezy, and I got all sorts of confused! I’m definately going to bed now! 
Yay! I actually slept practically eight hours! Then I got up and did a million things because now I have energy again. Laundry, cleaned, cooked, moved all my plants from outside to inside and then cleaned outside. I also changed the lightbulb in the closet and unplugged the bathroom sink, which was clogged because a stupid cricket had climbed into the closet light fixture somehow and I dumped it into the sink so I could throw it away. But it slid down the drain and got caught in some pipe grunge probably and clogged the drain! So I took some bamboo skewers and poked it till it was clear again, bleh to the whole thing.
It was not caffeine-related sleeplessnes gardentraveler, hmph! If it had been I would have gladly put down the coffee cup. Don’t worry, I’m not going to bean you, because I don’t have any coffee beans and regular musical fruit beans would make a mess of the MMP. Instead I will glare at you and mutter something you can’t quite make out but still causes the hair on the back of your neck to stand up all prickley.
You didn’t say it was weekend camping Rue! But you’re right, I am a wicked teacher who’s been grounded on weekends in may. Stupid old grading finals and projects and end of the year inventory and cleaning. Boring nasty old responsible adult crud. Feh! Think of me when you pour water on your campfire’s ashes at bed time.
I don’t think you’re crazy for eating fruit when it’s cold Donkey. I do the same because I have to keep mine in the fridge or it goes bad before I can eat it all. Sure, it’s supposed to be more flavory if it’s room temp, but big woo. Vanilla yoghurt with cinnamon mixed in is good on nectarines, yum.
Don’t worry Puggy eleventy fourteen mile long posts have nothing to do with being tired. Everybody will be just thrilled to know those can happen at any time.
You see? My car luck is now spreading to others. FCM, thank goodness they caught the coolant stuff before you’d left. Having a car overheat is bad, I learned last year. Also expensive.
Okay, now how exactly did this bunny abduction go MagicEyes? I mean, were these just random bunnies wandering along and you swooped in and bunnynapped them, or were these roadside ‘free to a good home’ bunnies or what?
The chicken fortune disturbs me. Are they trying to say that they think the flavor of the fortune cookie might be difficult to determine and so they’ve provided a hint? If so, chicken flavor cookies don’t sound like a good idea, though that one time I had a fortune cookie that was glue flavored and chicken would have been an improvement. I think they were slyly trying to make a joke about the rumor that chinese food places use cat in place of chicken. Tastes *like * chicken, not is chicken. Now what about when you add ‘in bed’, does that mean the food tastes like chicken only when you eat it in bed or that what often happens in bed between two or more consenting adults tastes like chicken? Because I’ve never noticed either to be true, but at least the last one makes it <snerk> -able.
Oh! Donkey’s cold fruits just reminded me of the vampire apple in my refrigerator. I cleaned the fridge today and noticed the apple that’s been hanging around, for about three months now, is still perfectly fine. Now, we all know that pumpkins can turn vampire and one of the ways you can tell is if they last a lot longer than they should. But I had no idea the same thing could happen with apples. I think it’ll be safe to continue with my vampire apple observations because it can’t get out of the fruit bin on it’s own. So far.
So far there are three insane maniacs who keep fruit in the refrigerator posting this week.
FTR donkey my face cheeks and my neck are the only things I shave. Nuttin’ else. The part of my face where the beard lives gets trimmed but never shaved. All other hairy parts of my body do not get shaved or trimmed or nuttin. Except when I had that heart catherization a couple years ago, then a part of my body which I shall not mention so as to not oogie out FCM got shaved. The hair did grow back though.
-swampbear (that’s enough for a first thing in the morning post)
I wondered the same thing myself yesterday, so I asked my supervisor (who is a fantastic woman, and is duly concerned that I’m going to go out to lunch one day and come back with an automatic weapon). She said that she’d never had Natalie’s home phone number, but she suggested to her boss that maybe she or our HR Lady should call to make sure everything’s alright. Bosslady’s bosslady (who is a frightening woman, but actually cares about her employees despite the fact that she always sounds like she’s yelling and every other word out of her mouth should be censored) said “Why bother?” They’re treating it as Job Abandonment. I’m going to check obituaries and then wash my hands of it.
So … is it bad to take a Xanax before going to work? After my anxiety attack last week, my doctor hooked me up with some, and I’m wondering if it will make the day easier, or if I’ll just sit at my desk and drool. I think I’ll toss 'em in my purse and see where the day takes me. 
But on the bright side, three more days of work, then I’m on “vacation.” Of course, “vacation,” in this case, means waiting for traffic to die down on Friday night, driving from New Jersey to Maine, sleeping a couple hours, driving four hours further into Maine, attending an old friend’s wedding, staying up all night giggling with my college roommate, and then driving the whole ten to twelve hours back home on Sunday. I love long-distance driving, but something tells me I’m going to seriously wish I’d taken Monday off. Ugh.
Ha! I crack me up! (Really Ashes[sup]2[/sup], you are loveliness personified.)
But… “pour water on your campfire’s ashes at bed time”? What’s the point of going camping if you have to go to bed? Waste time sleeping? That’s crazy talk that is!
I was thinking of new screen names. Not for me, but just generally.
“Leon MacDuff”
I think that would be good if you know your Shakespeare. 'Cause Hamlet (Soupo had a teddy bear named “Hamlet”) tells Mac “Lay on, MacDuff” and people get it wrong saying “Lead on, MacDuff”. I think it was after the skull-in-the-graveyard scene. But I’m not sure.
“Stupidhead” might be a good screen name (screenname?) too.
Then I just gave up. It’s not like I need a new name anyway.
I was wonderin’ that myself. Little wild bunnies would probably be missed by they’s momma.
I keep my fruit at room temp. I read a book years ago what said refrigeration leeches out all the good bits. I like my nanners slightly spotty cause then they’s nice and sweet. Putting maters and corn in the fridge must be a Mortal Sin I think. Might as well eat them gassed red ones from the supermarket. 
draelin, you might want to speermint at home with the Xanax. You know that bit about operatin’ machinery an all. Cars is machinery last I heard. Should be okay though. I drove from Flawduh to Taxus years ago on a scrip. It was shortly after I left the Klingon. I don’t believe I left any carnage in my wake.
swampy, did the shaved bit itch when it grew back? Mr. Anachi hasn’t mentioned itchies and I haven’t noticed any inappropriate adjustments.
Tupug
Draelin I hope everything works out at your job. Because, if there is foul play involved, you’d be a suspect. You see, people will think you arranged for the disappearance of the receptionist just so you could get her job. I’ve seen it before - bloodthirsty corporate behavior is never pretty, and innocents are always hurt.
And the scary thing about my fortune yesrday was that I had the Sweet-n-Sour Chicken. So it really wasn’t chicken, then, I guess? The cookie didn’t taste like chicken. It tasted fortune-cookie-y, just like they always do.
I thought of that myself, and decided not to take it. But it didn’t matter–this morning I forgot how to get to work.
I’m going to repeat that, because it bears repeating.
This morning, I forgot how to get to work.
I’ve worked here two years come October. From 1997-2000, I worked in a building just down the street. While I have moved apartments in that time, I always live in the same ten-square-mile area that includes the hospital I was born in and where I went to high school. And this morning, I forgot how to get to work. I went to a completely different town in a completely different direction, and straight to the building where I worked before this job.
I’ve heard your mind goes to hell at fifty. I’ll be thirty in December. I knew I shouldn’t have smoked all that pot. sigh
But I noticed this morning (as I put it in my purse, not as I consumed the whole bottle), that my little container of happy says not to eat grapefruit while on this medication. This is going to bug me all day. Why grapefruit? I hate grapefruit, but should I avoid oranges, too? What is so damn special about grapefruit that you can’t combine it with medication? I don’t mind telling you, I’m absolutely flummoxed about it.
And I just love the word “flummoxed.”
More news on my complete and total mental breakdown as it develops.
Mr. Anachi got the same info for one of the meds he is on for his heart. The pharmacist told me that the grapefruit juice somehow “enhances” (for lack of a better word) the effects of the medication. You wouldn’t want that to happen to your happy pills. Being ecstatic at work might have dire consequences.
Oh, and don’t worry about driving the wrong way to the old work. As a former boss told me, it’s a sign of genius. (HE dropped his wife off at a bank, went looking for a parking space, then drove home totally forgetting about her.)
Tupug
I picked them up from a shelter, so they weren’t completely random. They’re going to a new home in Raleigh, and I was in West Virginia, so I gave them a ride home. They’re not wild bunnies–they’re very tame and friendly, and they have cute little not-quite lop ears that stick up at odd angles. And did I mention the cute little twitchy noses? These are some seriously cute rabbits!
Draelin, I’m with you on accidentally going one place when I wanted to go someplace entirely different. I won’t ever go to my old job by accident, though, because I took the bus, and now I drive, and it would be really, really hard to go to the bus stop by accident.
Awww, I want some bunnies. Bunnies give you unconditional love. My cats are looking at me like they know I’m going crazy, and don’t care as long as I remember to fill the food bowl.
Tupug, I am a genius. Thank you.
Wow, y’all have been busy. I await the rest of the Bad Receptionist saga. Will they ever find her body?
Today is zipping around with Driving Husband and Quasi-Daughterday. We’re going to a farmer’s market, and then maybe Ikea, and then maybe Costco, some regular grocery stores, Chinatown, and the Middle Eastern supermarket. And then I come home, grab my stuff, and trot off to dance class. Whee!
I have three whole days off! I am excited!
I’m going to be in Maine too! Yay Maine! I’m not driving though - too long. We did used to do the drive every year from NJ to Maine, and it is long. My dad will drive straight through without stopping - wow. When I drove with my sister one time, we stopped in Mt. Cisco NY for lunch because they said they had a McDonald’s on one of those exit signs. They lied - we couldn’t find it. So we ended up trying to get pizza from a place where the workers only spoke Spanish. Sister had to figure out a way to get them to understand we wanted two slices, not two pies. So let that be a warning - don’t fall into the Mt. Cisco trap.
Maine!
Susan
I love long-distance driving, so I’m cool with the ride–as long as I don’t get lost or something, given the week I’m having. I amuse myself with road signs. One of my favorites on this particular trip is Hardscrabble Road, near Croton Falls, NY. I think of it as “Quixotic on a Triple-Word-Score Drive.”
And don’t ever get off the Saw Mill and look for food. I have friends that did, and were never seen again. I grab coffee before I leave Jersey, and then try not to stop again until I’m through Connecticut. You see … Connecticut hates me, and the feeling is mutual.
On the Receptionist Saga front, no one with her last name has appeared in any newspapers in the state since she went AWOL. I feel that I’m perfectly allowed to think terrible things about her, now.
How can it be horribly scandalous when it’s a heart catheterization? Is FCM afraid of chests or something?
[del]swa[/del] sneezy I’m sorry. You don’t have to get another name, just look closer at what I type. I think from now on, I’ll type SNEEZY in all caps.
They don’t shave your chest when they do heart catheterizations. They insert the catheter in a leg vein, specifically one very close to the groinal area.
Ah, I love the TMI around here. So I think I should contribute my own.
KeithT’s coming to visit this weekend. I think I’m going to wearthis when I pick him up at the airport. (I don’t *quite *look like the blond in the picture, but the dress still looks damn sexy on me - just imagine it on a slightly taller brunette.) I think penis should ensue.
I think that’s my TMI quota for about a month at least!
Are you kidding me?? I know this is the MMP and all, so we’re supposed to be lighthearted and stuff, but this is just crazy. Nobody’s even going to bother to call? How crass.
I’d really hope that if I failed to show up for work for several days, someone would give enough of a shit about me to pick up the phone for 2 seconds. 