Category: laffs

A matter of personal choice?

So I dropped by a favorite “blog post idea” site today and the first item that was presented for my consideration was:

“Suggest to your visitors some toilet literature”

Oh my.

I mean…I believe toidy literature is indeed essential, but isn’t that a highly personalized decision?

There is the good ol’ fashioned newspaper, but what with the drop in newspaper circulation, not as many people take a physical paper anymore.

So this material has limitations.

I have a friend who keeps a basket of catalogs by the toilet. It’s multitasking! Shopping and…er…you know.

Plus, I suppose they could come in handy in the case of a toilet tissue shortage.

Personally, I favor taking my iPhone along for the journey. That way I can do email, read the news, shop, whatever whim might strike my fancy when I’ve got a few spare minutes to spend.

The downside of this is that between the sink, tub and other water issuing devices in the restroom, it can be tricky. Best to keep the ol’ iPhone nice and dry.

Plus, The Good Man tends to get bent out of shape when he receives messages from me while indisposed.

“Did you just email me from the can?!?!” he’ll shout when his email goes ‘bing’ with a new message.

Well. Yes. Is that a problem?

I’ll admit, there have been times when I’m on a writing jag (and you have GOT to respect the streak) when I have taken my laptop in there with me so I could keep writing while doing my business.

I won’t even relay the comments I get from The Good Man when I do that.

Suffice to say, he’s horrified.

Ok, so back to the topic. I actually spent some time considering options. Novels, magazines, catalogs, short story anthologies, comic books, reading the back of the toothpaste tube and of course nothing at all.

After all this thinking, I believe I’ve arrived at the best answer.

Something that has quick readability, short segments, maybe even a laugh or two.

Ah yes, I’ve made my decision.

Bar none, the best toilet literature ever has to be:

Reader’s Digest

You’re welcome.

Set My Mascot Free!

Source: Pistol Pete holstered for Utah game

Ugh! They are making the NMSU mascot sit a game.

For what they are calling “a mustache-ripping incident”

Um, oh…

*chuckle, giggle, snort*

Ahem.

The incident occurred with Utah’s State’s mascot, “Big Blue” the bull.

I’m wondering why Pistol Pete didn’t up and rip something off the bull, eh? We *are* and Agricultural college after all! We know how to do such things.

*giggle, snort, wipe eyes*

Yes, well. This is all very serious and, *guffaw*, ahem, disciplinary.

The bull has already served his sentence, the same one game suspension.

And I suppose after all of this, Pistol Pete will have learned his lesson.

Despite the mustache violence, we’ve still come a long way since my days at NMSU where, when the opposing team made a basket, we’d shout “nice shot, assh–e!”

Hee!

Go NMSU!

S’long, farewell, auf wiedersehen, good byyyyyyye!

Well 2009, here we are.

It’s been fun, you know. Well, sometimes, anyway.

I mean, you’ve provided some laughs and all.

Remember that time we celebrated my wedding anniversary?

How about all the tweets we shared?

The endless blog posts?

Remember that vacation where we laughed in the summer sun?

Yeah…those were special times. Really, I’ll always hold those memories deep in my heart.

It’s just…

Well…

It’s not working out.

You see, despite all the fun, you’ve ravaged my wallet.

In this year, you made me have to *gasp* cut coupons, lower my thermostat and NOT buy this ever so delicious navy blue leather bag with a cute little strap and matte finished hardware and the most adorable zipper front pockety thing.

I haaaate not buying a delicious handbag with a really cute pockety thing!

But I didn’t buy it. I walked away.

And I’m still sad about that.

I’ll always remember that stuff too, 2009.

How you made gas prices stupidly expensive. How you let all those celebrities die. How you let Tiger cheat on Elin.

You have a dark side, 2009. I see it now. I see it so clearly.

I’ve been fooling myself all along

I think it is best if we part ways.

Really, stop trying to cling to my leg.

We’re done.

Seriously.

Fine. You want me to say it?

I’ll say it.

But when I say it, it’s really over.

Ok. Here we go. I’m saying it.

It’s not you, it’s me.

There.

Feel better?

Now get out of here. We’re through!

Have I met somebody new? Well…maybe.

2010 has been coming up in conversation a lot lately.

Maybe 2010 will treat me the way I deserve to be treated.

Let my retirement recover some of its value and help me possibly find another cute little leather bag to assuage my grief.

Until then…to you, 2009, I can only say….

So long.

Farewell!

Auf wiedersehen

Good byyyyyyye…

Now I know it is Christmas

Oh yes, for me the season has finally begun.

Is it the tree that I put up over the weekend and decorated?

Nope.

The presents I am crafting for family?

Nope.

Nailing down dates and times to spend blissful holiday time with family and friends?

Nope.

It is just one thing.

My first full hearing of the song:

Feliz Navidad by José Feliciano.

Oh yes. I love this song. I love José.

THIS is Christmas to me.

And as I rock out at my desk right at this very moment…

I remember with mirth my former boyfriend who *hated* this song.

Born in Encinada, he felt that José’s epic hit holiday song was insulting to his people.

Despite the fact that José is from Puerto Rico.

Whatever.

Because he hated it, I always turned it up a little louder and enjoyed it a bit more.

And now living in brighter days married to The Good Man who doesn’t try to censor my musical tastes, I can once again truly enjoy José’s hit unencumbered.

Here’s a video from 1973. Gotta love it!

Feliz Navidad!!

Just how "natural" are we talkin’ here?

The other day, while out and about, The Good Man bought himself a bag of cough drops to try to quell the dry cough the endless exposure to indoor heating provides.

Plus, we gave the house a good cleaning over the weekend and kicked up a bunch of dust that has us both sneezing and coughing.

After purchase and back in the car, he opened up the package and popped one in the ol’ cake hole.

After a cough or two myself, I said, “may I have one?” to which he readily agreed.

I grabbed the package and flipped it over to review the ingredients.

Yep. I’ve become one of those people.

Anyhow, I try to avoid corn syrup. It’s just my own thang. Doesn’t have to be yours.

So I read off the ingredients list aloud and got to “natural flavors.”

Now, what in the sam hell are “natural flavors?”

This is the part where I make it hard for The Good Man to share a life with me.

I turn and say to him, “I hate when they list ‘natural flavors,’ I mean, what is that? It could be anything! Are these cough drops poop flavored? Poop is a natural flavor!”

The Good Man turned slowly and gave me a look and a slow head nod.

This is a look that in going on five years together I’ve come to understand means, essentially, “While you are technically correct, it’s going to be better for me in the long run if I don’t dignify what just came out of that sideways mind of yours with a response. So I’ll just nod.”

We nodded at each other for a long moment, and since my “poop is a natural flavor” just hung there in the air, so to speak, there really was no good segue.

I chose then to open the pack of cherry and whatever-the-hell-other-natural flavored cough drops and fired one into the ol’ cake hole.

It tasted nasty. I spit it back out after a minute.

“Natural flavors” are gross. And possibly poop.

I’m just sayin’.

(these are the offenders in question)