Scene: Dark bedroom, approximately midnight, man, woman and dogs snoring. When suddenly! Man is jolted awake by ""noise"" coming ""inside"" the house!
Andy [shakes Bee awake]: Bee! Did you hear that?
Bee [is jolted from a deep sleep]: Whaa?? Who? Cheese?
Andy: Did you hear that? There was a loud bang!
Bee [punches pillow]: No. And if the dogs aren't barking then you were probably dreaming.
Andy: I'm gonna go check it out. You stay here.
Bee: ::sigh:: [gets up]
Andy: Where are you going?
Bee: You know that, of the two of us, I'm the one who can really kick ass.
Andy: I'm tempted to let you go out there and get your butt kicked just to bring you down a notch.
Bee: Hey, if you want to unleash me solo, I won't disappoint. [gets in karate kid bird position, almost topples] The intruders will get a roundhouse kick to their—
Andy: Ankles? Shush and go back to bed.
Bee: Hell no. [notices Mocha] Mocha! Go back to bed! It's like Scooby and the gang meet the mummy over here.
Andy carefully peeks around the corner, leans his head out of the hallway and slowly makes his way towards the kitchen. I cough. Loudly.
Andy: BEE! What the hell! You want to give away our position?
Bee: "give away our position"? This isn't 'Nam. Besides, why aren't you yelling at Mocha?? Her tags have been jingling the whole time!
Andy: You know what? I'm kicking you both off of my island.
Bee: Oh my goodness! Listen!
Andy: What? WHAT??
Bee: Silence. It's just me and the chickens. [points at him and the cowering Mocha]
Andy: Okay. So maybe I was dreaming.
Bee: Ya'think?
Andy: It felt real. . . [goes back to bed]
Bee: Does this feel real. [smacks Andy on the butt-ocks]
Andy: Ouch! Now I'll never be able to go back to slee— ::SNORE::
2 hours later, Andy is snoring, Mocha is wheezing, Tazz (who never woke up for the midnight adventure) is snorting. Bee? Bee is still wide awake, tossing and turning. PUNCHING HER PILLOW!
As some of you may know, my momma is in Mexico at the moment and will not be returning until I’m 107.
This means that I’m all alone in my big house once Andy leaves for work.
This means that I’m washing my hair with my eyes open when I’m in the shower because I ain’t no Janet Leigh (in more ways than one, she was hawt!) and refuse to let some psycho with a knife make button holes on my body. Just seems like something I would want to avoid at all costs, you know?
Anyway. I usually leave the attack dogs on the loose so they may alert me of any intruders. This works as follows, Mocha barks her head off letting Tazz know that he has a tasty morsel on his turf. Tazz then goes and digs out his bib so he may dig in and savor any ruffians that happen to make the wrong decision by coming into his home. Burglar butt is his absolute favorite!
Christmas Eve, however, Andy had put Tazz in his kennel before he left and I was making banana pudding (not slang for anything, I was ACTUALLYmaking banana pudding) and then hurrying up to take a shower, I was too busy to let him back out of his kennel. Sooooo my only line of defense was that nutty airhead who would rather be petted than attack anybody.
I’m in the shower, singing my FALALALALAs with the radio blasting, when I hear Mocha go nuts. Odd, but she will also bark at dust bunnies, not that I have any ::wink::, so I’m not too worried until I hear Tazz’s malevolent growling and him throwing himself against his kennel making it rattle furiously.
I turn off the radio and listen intently.
I HEAR FOOTSTEPS!
CURSES!
The one day I kennel Tazz the Carnivorous is the one day intruders decide to steal my cool stuff!
Now I have to hurry up and rinse off so I may get dressed before I go investigate. I really don’t want to die naked, just don’t want that on my tombstone “here lies Bee, died in the shower with her white butt face up”.
Once I dried myself, I decided to put on lotion. The cold is making my skin too dry. Okay, clothes on… I should really brush my hair too. If I survive, I don’t want it to get all weird and frizzy.
Uh… since I’m brushing my hair, I might as well put makeup on. You know, in case I have to talk my way out of being reunited with Elvis, I want to look my best.
Then I notice Tazz isn’t growling anymore. He’s more like muttering. Mocha isn’t barking either but that could be because they distracted her with a cookie. Bitch!
I call out to Mocha BEFORE unlocking the door and NOTHING.
Okay, I have to make my way out there but I should call my sister and have her on the line in case she needs to call nine-one-one. This isn’t the first time she will be my lifeline in case of death. I once went to open The Chicken place and found the back door wide open. I called my sister and told her to listen while I walked around the joint with a machete looking for intruders. True story.
I grab my phone, yes I take it into the bathroom with me TRACY, notice I have a text message, decide to read it (kicking thievery ass can wait 2 minutes) and almost pass out with relief because it reads “I got the box ;) Nancy.”
I know that message means nothing to you guys but to me it means my sister drove to my house at the buttcrackofdawn to pick up a package her MIL had sent from the great big Texas. The package I promised my sister I’d take to work so she may only drive 3 blocks to pick it up. SHE was the noisy intruder.
She obviously didn’t trust me so she decided to make me die of fright instead!
I won’t lie to you, I am a little pissed but ultimately happy that it was her instead of a burglar. Especially because the only things I could have used to defend myself would have been my hairbrush and bleach spray. Bleach spray is way too expensive.
Nancy, your key privileges are REVOKED!!
Oh yeah and Merry Christmas to all!!! I’ll catch you guys next week.
P.S.
If there are any lowlife thieves reading this, I also have nunchucks and a machete so don’t try to come rob this chick.
So... Nooter The Dog tagged me with a scent meme. I'm to list 5 good smells and 5 bad smells. I decided to let Tazz and Mocha take this Meme and run with it. And then come back and leave it at my feet so I could throw it again and then they'll fight over the meme and Tazz will growl and Mocha will pee then expose her belly as a sign of submission. That's how Andy and I are... only he's Mocha ;o)
Tazz:
Okay Mocha we are supposed to list five smells we don't like and five we do. Mocha? MOCHA!
Mocha:
What?? I was trying to eat that squirrel that sits on the fence but I kept crashing into an invincible force field!
Tazz:
It's called a window, airhead!
Mocha:
Whatever stank breath! And that is one of the smells I don't like, your bad breath. (1)
Tazz:
Oh yeah? What about that time you threw up and rolled in it? That wasn't pleasant at all! (2)
Mocha:
Look who's talking! You bathe once a month because you hate water! You always smell like cheesy fritos! ... But I like that smell. (1)
Tazz:
Remember the time the dorky man left his sausages where I could reach them and started yelling when he found out I ate them?? Those smelled really good but tasted better! (2)
Mocha:
I wouldn't know since you always bite my legs when I try to sniff the food. I like to smell pretty lady's hair. (3)
Tazz:
Me too! I used to like smelling dorky man's fingers when he came home from work. I think it was because of those thin sticks that were hot at the tip that would make him blow smoke from his mouth. I was sad when he stopped buying those. That's why I tried to escape that one year, so I could go to the neighbor whose mouth is always smoking. (4)
Mocha:
Blech! I hated that smell! (3) He would come pet me and I would make this noise :kkkhrrmmm: :kkkhrrmmm:I was pretending I was going to throw up and he'd leave me alone. Not such an airhead now am I frito butt!
Tazz:
Remember that time you got into the recycle bin and drank the leftover booze? You were walking into walls, more than usual, and asking for your mommy. ha ha ha I hate the smell of booze! (4)
Mocha:
No, instead you like to sniff the cleaning products! The smell of bleach makes my eyes go googly and I hate it. (5)
Tazz:
I have to say that my all time favorite smell is coffee. Pretty lady once got distracted and left a garbage bag with coffee grinds that drove me to chew a hole at the bottom and inhale the grinds right into my system. The best score EVER! (5) AND CHEESE CAKE!
Thanks to everybody who has joined the Secret Santa Can Suck It!we have about 38 people so far and it is going to be great! I'll email everyone Monday evening with their respective uh, people. Remember it's a secret so once I tell you, don't go over to the person and say "Hey I'm your secret Santa Booga Booga!".
No. No. Don't do it. I'd like everybody's "gift" to be up on Thursday 12/11 (of 2008) so we can all laugh together. The way I figured to do it, is to post a links with everybody's Site name where you go looking for your "gift". Does that sound good?
Suggestions are always welcome! Mostly.
P.S.
Does anybody else mess up when spelling Santa and keep typing Satan? Or is it just me?
1) put pan on burner 2) light burner 3) put oil in pan 4) go remove Tazz's jaw from Andy's leg 5) come back and put beans in hella-hot oil
Stand back and watch the oil, liquid, fire combine for a beautiful fire display. BUT! Beware of becoming hypnotized by the flickering flames because they might make you want to get closer and you'll end up with an unfashionable hairdo.
Yup! I sure did start a fire and nearly burned my house down! The sad part is that it was my first official cooking day. Don't worry, everything is okay. Even though the microwave and cabinets were lit up like Rudolph after a week of binge drinking, nothing melted.
To quote Andy "Isn't making BEANS part of your DNA for cripessake??"
He's just mad because when I yelled out for help (normally I'm all calm,cool and collected but when I noticed the flames on my microwave and cabinets, something inside of me shit its pants) he came barreling from around the corner, assessed the situation and opened the back porch door and stood there in a semi crouched position…
… While he was getting ready toescape (WTF?) I turned off the burner and moved the pan to a less flammable area- the middle of the kitchen where there are no cabinets or cobwebs (do you know how fast cobwebs burn, YIKES!). Andy claims he was opening the door so that I may run outside and throw the pan as far as my little person arms could (not far, it probably would have landed at my feet).
I think we need to set up cameras in my house because this for sure would have won us the title of "America's dumbest couple"! We later laughed our asses off because we can't seem to function when no real adults are present (mommy?).
The beans came out great in case you're wondering.
Also, for Angie and Abstract (and even Andy) who feel jipped (Word is saying I should replace *jipped* with *japed* I thought they were joking) because I didn't give more of the story yesterday:
I was helping a MEAN patient with her medical forms since she didn't speak English but then I got a phone call and had to go back in my office to take it. She followed me back to my office (BIG NO-NO) and continued yammering so I had to give her the "hold on a minute" finger but I must have been pissed at her because I used my middle finger instead of the index one. Accidentally of course…
The boob thing, I was wearing a new bra (TMI?) and the girls were not being contained properly so I adjusted them with my back to the door and my front to the window. I couldn't see anybody out there but our office is on the ground level, it faces the parking lot and it's a medical building right on a busy street, during rush hour. I didn't pop them out or anything but if anybody saw me, it was clear I was shoving them into submission.
Okay, I'll talk to you guys later, I'm off to put a frozen pizza in the oven. The kitchen is safe for one more day.
P.S.
Why is it that when I try to sound like Gwen Stefani I wind up sounding like Cher but when I try to sound like Cher I sound like Bob Dylan? It's making it very hard for me to sing "Don't Speak" and "If I could turn back time".
So... Andy had to work on Saturday. He got up early, put Mocha the chunk on the bed, reminded me to go to the bank, kissed me good-bye and left.
I woke up at 9:00 a.m. STARVING, realized I would have to cook something so I went back to sleep instead. I woke up an hour later and said to self "Get your ass out of bed, go to the bank and then stop at Mickey Dee's for some breakfast and coffee" but I just couldn't make myself get out of bed so I watched some TV until the dogs started whining that they had to go outside or eat who knows really, they're always so damn needy.
I finally got around to going to the bank (it was 40 degrees but I walked out in flip flops, shorts and a t-shirt).
I hate going to the bank. The old ladies always give me a hard time about something and Saturday was no different. They were upset because I had signed my check with my *maiden* name and not the name of my husband. Seriously, that's what they said.
"This your maiden name! You need husband's name!"
I tried telling the little old Asian lady and the little old Polish lady that my name is hyphenated and I go by both but you know what? Sometimes it's just easier to pretend I belong to a man and sign it with my owner's name.
Since McDonald's is right across the street from the bank, I maneuvered my car through their drive thru (me and drive thrus do not get along! I can never get my car to contort itself in order to go through that fuckin maze! To add insult to injury, I always park too far from the windows!) but since it was too late for breakfast, because my lazy ass couldn't get out of bed before 11, I decide to just get a LARGE coffee. Here's where things get tricky.
Bee:
Large coffee please.
Ronald:
What kind of coffee?
Bee:
What? Large, regular I guess?
Ronald:
Would you like to try our new Mochas?
Bee:
Uh, okay. Large please.
Ronald:
Fat or Non-Fat?
Bee:
I don't believe in non-fat so... fat?
Ronald:
Anything else?
Bee: [When I'm in the passenger seat, I have the power to say "nothing else, thanks" but...]
A number 6, please.
I blame the fact that I was hungry on me ordering FOOD from McDonald's because I have a few rules I live by. No soda, fries, potato chips or candy before noon. AND! No McDonald's unless it's breakfast. Too many food poisoning incidents in the past.
When I pulled up to pay, I had the biggest shock of the day! My bill was $8.87- EIGHT DOLLARS AND EIGHTY-SEVEN CENTS! FOR FOOD. FOR ONE PERSON. AT MCDONALD'S!
If you're getting the impression that I'm cheap, I am when it comes to food. Especially crappy food because I only ate the fries and (drank) the coffee.
Oh well, only about 70 more days before my mom comes home.
Things I learned this weekend:
It's not shiving it's shanking.
Andy would rather watch Jack Frost [CREEPY!] than either of the two Godfathers because he doesn't like me quoting the movies for 3 days. "No! Then you go around saying 'mahnday tursday, it's business not personal, you broke my heart Fredo!, don't ask me about my business', not to mention using piano wire to try to kill me!"
Cher's character is 37 in Moonstruck but she looks AT LEAST 10 years older than I do.
I learned I can go almost the whole weekend without turning on my laptop and not have any type of seizures.
So, on Friday/Saturday, Bee's Musings was out of commission for a spell (always wanted to say for a spell, meh. I think it means for a while in country) due to the evil Sitemeter.
At first, I thought it was my computer because Andy could pull up my blog no problem. I had no clue why or how or what or when or even who but I can tell you that I felt like somebody had given me a swift kick to the imaginary gonads
I really didn't have much time to investigate since my momma was due to arrive and I had Cheerios to eat.
But then...
I received ONE a few e-mails from panicked people threatening to come over to my humble home at MIDNIGHT and have me relate IN PERSON what I was up to.
Having no other choice since I didn't feeling like taking a shower to receive company, I cracked my knuckles and tried to figure out what the problem was first thing on Saturday morning.
The facts were these: Only people with Internet Explorer had issues. I couldn't pull up the Sitemeter website. Other people who had Sitemeter were having the same problem.
DING DING DING.
I removed Sitemeter and patted myself on the back for my deductive reasoning.
What I didn't understand was why Bee's Musings came up on Andy's computer but not my laptop. When I pondered this out loud in the vicinity of one Andrew Husband, his response?
"I use Firefox, Internet Explorer is for chumps."
Mhm, as Mocha is my witness, that's what he said. Did I know he wasn't using IE? Nope.
I wonder what else he's keeping from me? Has he switched my coffee to decaf?Does he add extra softener to my clothes like I ask? Is he the one who half opened my deodorant? Is his name really Andy?? . P.S. I checked online to see how much it would cost to replace P-T S (my brain dead assistant) with a monkey and it turns out I'd need permits, proof of disability and around $10 Grand. Now all I have to do is decided what color monkey I want.
»«»«»«»«»«»«»«»«»«»«»«»«»«»«»«»«»«»«»«»«»«»«»«»«
She is currently on hold with an insurance company and keeps sighing out loud and then saying "still holding". Each sigh is making me uncomfortable since I can't tell if she's upset or if it's giving her pleasure...
I just went over and asked her to keep her moaning to a minimum.
After my Friday boxing match meeting with OZ, (where he wondered why certain accounts are not being worked on and I responded by saying that the cloning machine was defective, it did not produce 20 Bees like I had hoped but it did clear up my complexion) he has now given me authorization to hire my summer assistant.
At first, I was a little upset because this would mean I’d have to dedicate valuable time to training a newbie in the art of Office Bat Mocking… I just don’t have the energy for it.
Then, I became angry because it would totally cut into my blog reading and we all know this is what keeps me, in a harmonious balance nobody alive would benefit by shifting, both sane and insane. Can you imagine me sane? Neither can I.
After listing the pros and cons, I’ve decided to be happy for the chance of corrupting another young mind.
Here is a small list of duties I came up with:
Get here on time to sign me in (where he will wait half an hour for me to arrive but that’s okay because he can make coffee while waiting).
Dust my desk (you’re probably thinking this is an easy task but he would have to move all my junk meticulous files and then put them back exactly where they were)
Once I arrive, get my coffee. (I’d do it myself but I’d already be running late)
Heat up my lunch.
Take Mocha to the groomers.
Take my clothes to the dry-cleaners.
Pick it up when it’s ready.
...
☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼
Uh, this is all I have for now. I would like to add that I’m hoping the following people apply for this coveted position: . Brad Pitt Orlando Bloom Ryan Reynolds
BRAD PITT David Beckham Any other hot actors/musicians/sports dudes
If you know any of them and think they would be willing to work for minimum wage and doing menial tasks, let them know to fax their résumés with a picture of themselves in provocative poses to my attention. . Maybe somebody over at Humor-Blogs would like to apply to be my whipping boy?
P.S. I’m just kidding. They wouldn’t have to get my coffee. Everybody knows I’m very particular about how I drink my coffee. .
P.S.S.
An added bonus is that I am a very cool boss. Very cool. And fun.
Have I ever talked about Tazz here on this blogus?? Yes?
Okay, then you know he is a little monster when it comes to people. He would sooner make your eyes into appetizers than lick you. HE is my secret weapon against all earthly evils and I love his ferocious little psychoness. We are, after all, very similar in personalities.
But!
Just like I have some weaknesses-eses, so does he. He is terrified of Fourth of July and thunderstorms. He doesn’t fear the Fourth of July because he’s unhappy we liberated ourselves from those crazy British people who don’t think I’m a lady, no, he hates the fireworks and the loud BANG!s.
A couple of years ago, I put him and Mocha out so they could do their business doggy style (and by doggy style, I mean pee/poop in the great wild yonder, NOT the other kind). When I went to go get them 2 minutes later, only Mocha sat by our back porch stoop looking sad and forlorn (or maybe she was gassy, you can’t really tell with her). I called out for Tazz but there was no response. (yes, he responds, usually by either running to the back porch stoop if he's done or by running out, ears flapping, looking at me, then running back to whatever he's doing, this is his way of telling me he's not done)
Since it was about 9:30 pm, our backyard was pitch black. I went inside to get a flashlight to see if he was under one of the pine trees or hiding behind the garage. No way could he have gotten out because our fence is solid wood with no slabs he could go through.
That’s when I saw it. The huge hole he dug IN TWO MINUTES to exit his torturous life of dog treats, ear scratches, SHELTER, and appreciation for his biting style. That’s how the ingrate repaid us, he escaped! To further prove to us how smart he can be, he dug the hole under the fence that's in our side yard thereby giving immediate access to freedom. Any other place he would have ended up in one of our neighbors yards.
I rang the alarm and had all our peeps looking for him. I was terrified since we live ONE block away from a forest preserve WITH A RIVER. Not just any river, a river that joins others into making the Illinois River which in turn is a tributary of the great old M-eye-crooked-letter-crooked-letter-eye-crooked-letter-crooked-letter-eye-hump-back-hump-back-eye (Mississippi) which in turn yadda yadda Gulf of Mexico. I was picturing my little Tazzy wazzy surfacing, eating a couple of fisherman, then being hunted by a tribe of Nahuas.
Luckily, he was found by Wilson’s daughter. The dog was in such shock, she was carrying him with her arms still intact!
Uh, anyway! See what you do just by asking me why he feared the Fourth of July??
To make a long story, LONGER, last night we had thunderstorms the likes we hadn’t seen since… Saturday. They came at a most inconvenient time, bedtime.
I was tired so I went to bed at 10, you know, before my mandatory bedtime of 10:30 and for TWO HOURS Tazz was in his kennel trying to dig another tunnel to freedom. Throughout those 2 hours, this is what you heard if you were sitting outside our bedroom window (we’ll come back to WHY you were sitting outside my bedroom window later):
KABOOM!! PEWOOGH!! (my interpretation of thunder)
scratch scratch, dog whining, scratch, kennel door rattling violently
Bee: TAAAAAZZ!
KABOOM!! PEWOOGH!! scratch scratch, dog whining, scratch, kennel door rattling violently
Andy: TAZZ YOU FUCKING IGNORANT DOUCHE!! SHUT UP!!
KABOOM!!PEWOOGH!!
scratch scratch, dog whining, scratch, kennel door rattling violently
KABOOM!!PEWOOGH!!
Bee: OMG!! TAAAZZ! I SWEAR I’M GOING TO PUT YOU OUTSIDE IN THAT ‘EFFING KENNEL AND TURN YOU UPSIDE DOWN!!
Andy: No, he’d drown if you turned him upside down.
Bee: I wasn’t really going to take him outside Andy, I can barely lift that freakin’ kennel ever since I was diagnosed with Rusty-old-shoulder syndrome. I was hoping my threat would scare him enough to shut up.
I finally got up to threaten his little ass face to face and was shocked to find his kennel was halfway to the front door! I dragged his kennel and put it in the darkest place of the house, Andy's dungeon. I put him under Andy's desk with his chair blocking him from trying to escape again.
If you think that was very cruel of me, shows how much YOU know! That son of bitch finally fell asleep!
Where was Mocha?, you ask. Well, she was sleeping soundly already being used to all the loud barking from Tazz, Andy and myself.
If you click on Humor-Blogs for me, you will accomplish 2 things. 1) You'll keep the boogey man away. 2) You'll keep me in the middle of the ranks.
And the hidden bonus third thing, you'll feel better about yourself for having made me a happier person.
almost topples] The intruders will get a roundhouse kick to their—
