Tag Archives: wtf

Operation Bootylicious 2011; episode 1

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So y’all know I walked/ran a half marathon this past March, right? (I actually ran (ok “ran”) the last half of the marathon and walked the first half, which sounds retarded and backward, but honestly, the running was easier than the walking by then. dunno why)

ANYWAY

After the marathon, I kinda just stopped working out. And by “Kinda”, I mean, I totally stopped. Like I think I’ve walked twice since March. And I’m not even sure if I can count them because I think I went directly to Cantina Laredo after the walks and fell into a vat of cheese dip and could only be saved from sure death by 2 Antonio Banderas Margaritas. Which I’m pretty sure cancelled out the exercise completely.

I do give myself an A for effort though.

I’m actually a pretty fit “fatty.” I’ve been very successful on my weightloss journey (<– yes, I said journey. You’re welcome.) It started when I lived in Oxford. I had decided to try to lose 20 lbs a year until I was at my goal. And even though I haven’t done that exactly, I have lost 5 sizes, and that’s nothing to shake a stick at. Unless you just really wanna shake a stick.

So in 5 years, I’ve dropped 5 sizes and gained the ability to walk/run 13.1 miles. Not too shabby. But also not enough.
What happens is, I get pretty happy with how I look and feel and I just stop. I hit a milestone such as completing the half-marathon, I take a break…and it ends up being a permanent vacation.
And then I end up falling into several vats of cheese dip. Only to be saved by margaritas… And then I start feeling fat and gross again. Bleh. I don’t like feeling fat and gross. I’m pretty sure y’all don’t like looking at fat and gross.
So yesterday I hit the gym at lunch. Today I feel beat-the-fuck up. But who cares. That’s what Advil and booze sleep is for. Who knows, maybe my fitness routine will be fodder for some fun blogs, kinda like when I used to blog at Fat Chicks Running all the time… Maybe I’ll have a new cast of characters I can make fun of while I’m makin’ my bacon a little less fatty and a little more bootylicious.

an update on LUMPY the LONE DUKE OF HAZARD

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El Jefe and I met at the Compound for lunch o check out the damage to the once awesome and pristine driveway of gravel.

It wasn’t as bad as I thought it was going to be, however, it was interesting. Lumpy totally caught air after he hit my culvert and I bet he didn’t land for 12 feet. It was pretty amazing actually. We found nails, rocks, truck parts, gloves, a paint pan, BBQ Sunflower seeds, a mint, and a quarter strewn about in the yard. Like WAY STREWN ABOUT. Almost to the house. His truck literally ripped the nails straight out of the landscape timbers. STRAIGHT OUT. AS IN NOT BENT. There are giant rocks that flew from my culvert and landed probably 50 yards away.
Behold Lumpy’s Trail of Tears. or would that be Beers?






Here is a collection of stuff from my front yard.


and yes. You are seeing that correctly. He killed my flamingo. Lumpy is gonna pay.

+500 FRUSTRATION; -1000 in awesome.

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Remember a long time ago, way back last weekend when we backed it up like a Tonka Truck with a load of gravel? Me, the boys & El Jefe worked our asses off. We raked, shoveled, tamped, & spread for damn near the entire weekend.

And the end result was beautiful:

So imagine my utter horror and dismay last night when my mother calls to tell me that some drunk asshole took the curve at warp speed, missed it entirely, AND TOOK OUT MY BRAND NEW FUCKING EFFING DRIVEWAY.

El Jefe was all “Do you wanna go home and check it out?” and I was leaning toward YES when I got my first text from my brother with pictures.
And then I was all “Hell no because I would pick up a shovel and beat that man down with it. IN FRONT OF THE COPS.” (because I’m hard like that) Frankly, I’m not cut out for jail time and even though his murder would have been totally justified in redneck court, I couldn’t take the chance.



BTW, the asshole had LUMPY on his tailgate. Yeah. LUMPY. I’m thinking he had a few lumps after he hit my culvert and left pieces of his truck in my yard. He also told the police he’d just been at the tattoo parlor. I’m guess he’d gotten quite loaded before he got his brand new LUMPY tattoo over his heart.
And you know what? Today is Wine Wednesday and I can’t even go. WHICH MAKES ME HAVE A SAD.
Grumble. Grumble. Piss and Moan. Somebody say something funny or cast a spell of awesome on me or put a hex on Lumpy. C’mon. Make today better…
BTW, my Bachelorette Episode 6 Recap is up at HDJM. Bentley the Super Douche returned on Monday and I recorded it all in its douchetastic glory.

fah-ah-ah-ling over you.

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First off, my recap of Bachelorette Episode 3 is up at Hey Don’t Judge Me. I’m working on Episode 4 recap now and hoping to post it later today. Episode 3 was so Douchetastic I had a hard time writing up the recap. So much material, so little blogspace… (btw, the Mask de-masked himself…)

Now…

Let’s talk about grace baby.
Let’s talk about you and me.
Let’s talk about all the falls that I take, that you can see.
Let’s talk about grace. Let’s talk about grace…

Picture this. A girl with bright red hair and a large tattoo (definitely recognizable) is sauntering (because she saunters) along the sidewalk on the way to work (a college campus, mind you) when suddenly the sidewalk reaches up and grabs her foot (because surely she didn’t just trip) causing her to take a most ungraceful spill. EVER. Dust and skirt flying up, shoe flying off, and an entire construction crew and 2 young engineering students watching. It happened in slow motion, because all things awesome happen in slow mo.

The boys were a few feet behind the now completely embarrassed girl with the bright red hair and gallantly assist her off the ground and ask if she is okay. The girl looks at the boys, who are both red-faced and apparently even more embarrassed than the girl. The girl realizes this was probably the first time the boys had ever seen panties. The girl is glad they were cute panties. She resists the urge to show them her matching purple bra.

Now the girl is a little scratched up from the sidewalk and the tree root she landed on. Her ego is completely bruised and may not make a full recovery, so if you see the girl with the bright red hair and something seems different; it’s probably because she is mourning the loss of her dignity. It was all she had left, after all…

monkey see; monkey play

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Rader P had his 2nd guitar lesson last night and Jag is impressed with how quickly he seems to be picking it up. So my little monkey is now practicing a few chords from BAD MOON RISING.

(there’s monkeys in the video, too. When I pick out a theme, I take it all the way!)

ION I found another four-leaf clover this morning when on the phone with Jenn C. (now with more monkeys)

Okay, well that’s all I have right now, unless you want to hear the story about how I nearly had a stroke while waiting to buy gas last night… Thankfully I was on the phone with Dee for the ENTIRE 40 MINUTES otherwise you would be reading about me in the paper. The headline would either be: Woman Strokes Out Waiting in Line or Woman Goes Mad and Kills All Stupid People at the Kroger Gas Station (FYI, that 2nd headline is probably the most accurate)

can I just get this off my chest?

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El Jefe and I took in two movies this weekend, which I think may bring our total of movies seen together to four. We generally wait and see them on his giant TV at home, but it was so hot this weekend (not that I’m complaining) that going to the movies just made sense.

Especially since there are so many out right now that we both want to see.

Now, the movies were good. Both of them (Bridesmaids and X-Men First Class). BUT we had shit-luck this time because there were babies and toddlers in both movies. And when I say toddler, I mean not even 2 years old.

I get it. My kids were once tee-tiny and I wanted to get out of the house, too. And sometimes there are no options available for when you need to get out and it sucks.

BUT YOU DON’T TAKE YOUR NEWBORN TO THE MOVIES. Seriously. Why would you do this? You’re dumping a butt-ton of money just to get inside and then you can’t even stay and watch the majority of the flick because you have to keep leaving to calm the baby.

Or worse, you just let the baby cry it out in the theater–for the same movie that we also paid butt-ton of money to see. (especially if you include the highway-robbery popcorn and coke. But you know what? You really can’t go to a movie without popcorn and coke.)

There are very few things that drive me batty in this world. (like batty to the point that it makes me seem like I have issues. haha)

  1. I don’t like to be late.
  2. I abhor the sound of clipping toenails and finding said clippings on the floor.
  3. Babies don’t belong in teen or adult movies. Ever. Period.

There. I feel better now.

Now in the world of good and awesome, go see X-Men First Class. I was blown away by its awesome. They did a fantastic job casting the ‘younger’ heroes and the acting was superb. According to El Jefe they did change a few of the story-lines but the changes were well done and appropriate. If you have been a fan of the X-Men movies, you will NOT be disappointed in this one.

legislating common sense

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I get it. People who text and drive are dangerous. They are behind the wheel of a killing machine and they need to have both eyes on the road and both hands on the wheel. And I understand why this is a law. I have no beef with this.

But some states are contemplating making it illegal to text and walk because people are getting hurt. (in my world, this is called natural selection…)

Isn’t this taking things a bit far? I mean, if you are so involved in your email or text and you fall in a fountain, and then it gets posted to youtube for the world to see…shouldn’t that be enough punishment? Or if you’re texting and walking and fall into a manhole and land in a puddle of poop…isn’t that enough punishment? (btw, the parents sued the city. Really? Because I’m pretty sure her lack of attention to the GAPING HOLE IN THE STREET isn’t exactly the city’s fault. But that’s just me.)

I really don’t think natural selection should be legislated. The Darwin Awards would never be the same if we started legislating common sense…

Also, I text and walk all the time, so I may be eating my words soon. If you see me fall down a manhole, run into a tree, or fall into a fountain…please don’t remind me of this post. I don’t really like the taste of crow very much. (and please don’t post it to youtube either. heh)

the end is nigh

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Or not. I mean how many people are going to predict the apocalypse and be wrong?

But damn, I sure am having fun planning to be left behind on Saturday where there will be much looting and the killing of zombies.

Because you know there will be zombies. or lots of Chuck Norrises…

Anyway, we’re on my Facebook page building an Apocalyptic Playlist…but we don’t have to just play there…you can play here, too. Suggest some songs! C’mon! It could be the end of the world again! And if we survive this round, remember, the Mayans have said the end is in 2012…so we’ll already have our playlist ready and waiting.

Hmmmmm….

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Would you pay a fee to try on clothing before you purchase it? It seems some boutiques in Australia are trying to cover a loss in sales by charging try-on fees. Apparently the new trend is to come into the store, try on the clothing, then purchase online for a lot less. Your try-on fee will go toward any purchase you make, but if you walk out without making a purchase, you forfeit the fee.

No. Thank. You.

In other news and absolutely, completely unrelated to the first topic… I was totally Grace under fire today. Or make that, Grace on wet surface… I totally slipped and busted my bohonkus <–official scientific term today when I walked into the office building. You see, it rained all night, and therefore is quite wet outside. I’m wearing my awesome cowboy boots, which happen to have zero grip on the bottom. The floor in the lobby is very waxed brick.

Waxed brick + Slick Boots = Mel’s feet flying up in the air (singing hey diddle diddle with her kitty in the middle of the swing like she didn’t care) What?

Yes, I’m nothing but elegant and graceful. And I’m also hopeful my lovely display wasn’t captured on video to be seen in an epic viral emailing around the world.

FWIW I have it on good authority (my own imagination) that I looked just like this when I landed…

even smart women are sometimes stupid

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Boys and Girls of the Internetz, something very weird happened to me last night and I’d like to tell you all about it so we can all learn a very important lesson.

After my weekly Girls’ Night Out, I had to stop at the store for Kitty Food and Litter. (super sexy, I know) I wanted to go to Target, but sadly, our Target is not 24 hours so I had to go to WarMart. Now, it’s about 11:15 and since I’m no dummy, I park under a light, fairly close to the store. I’m not afraid to go to the store at night, and I’m usually very aware of my surroundings, and very aware of the people in my area.

I checked out and was walking to the car when this very handsome man called out to me and approached me. He had been talking to some folks in another car and that car drove off.

I kept walking toward my car and he walked alongside me, gave me his first name and said, “I never do this, but you are so beautiful that I knew I would regret it if I didn’t stop and at least get your name.”

I said “My name is Mel and thank you, that’s very flattering.”

I started walking again.

“I’d love to take you to dinner sometime.”

I smiled. “Well, I appreciate that, but I don’t have dinner with strangers who stop me in the middle of the night at walmart. Also, my boyfriend wouldn’t like it very much.”

“You don’t have a boyfriend.”

“Okay, well, it’s been nice meeting you. Thank you for the ego boost.”

He doesn’t stop. He says “It’s because I’m black, isn’t it.”

I said, “No, it’s because this is a Walmart parking lot in the middle of the night and I have a boyfriend.”

I pick up my keys and put three of them between my fingers and prepare myself to jab him in the eyes. I’m not scared yet, but I’m no longer feeling like he’s harmless either.

He says, “If you really had a boyfriend, he wouldn’t let you shop in the middle of the night by yourself.”

“I’m a grown woman, nobody let’s me do anything. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to get home.”

He starts saying that “Fate brought us together. We met here for a reason…”

Uh, dude. It’s Walmart. Am I fated to be with everyone I’ve ever shopped with at the same time? I don’t think so. I get to my car and he offers to put my bags in the trunk for me, telling me the whole time how good he would be for me, how nice he would treat me, how I would always feel beautiful and special…

Okay, at this point, I’m a little freaked out. Mr. Handsome Business Man has just become the mayor of FruitcakeVille and he wants me to be his First Lady. No thanks.

I make sure I look at the cameras in the parking lot so they can see my face just in case things go badly. Then I take my basket away from the car, so I can get him away from my car. He walks with me and this is when I knew I was going to have a problem.

“I’d feel better if I could follow you home.”

UH. No. I said, “Listen, I know you probably think you’re being a gentleman right now, but it’s just creepy and I am going to politely ask you to leave me be. I need to get home and no you can’t follow me.”

I get into my car and he walks to his very nice BMW. I drive out of the parking lot, and I swear to God the man pulled out behind me. He did follow me for a bit, so I took a different route, got on the interstate and drove two exits past mine. He actually went the other way once I got on the interstate, but by this point I was freaking out and soooooooo didn’t want to take any chances.

I was up for a while last night, calming down. I learned something about myself…I’m too damn approachable and friendly. I need to be hardcore scary. I have never had anything like that happen to me, but now I’m thinking I may need to take a self-defense class…or as El Jefe suggested, possibly start packing heat. (ok, I can’t imagine I’d ever actually carry a gun.)

Ladies, please be smarter than me. I should never have let that conversation get started. And once it did, I should have turned around and gone back into the store. It’s never too late to teach an old dog new tricks…