Showing posts with label oops. Show all posts
Showing posts with label oops. Show all posts

Monday, December 14, 2009

You know how sometimes you want to do something because you think "how bad can it be?" and then your brain tries to talk you out of it by reminding you of that one time you shoplifted and your mom spanked you so hard the brand name of her shoe is still stenciled to your ass? Yeah, it's like that!

I am an intelligent person. I swear I am. But sometimes oh my lord can I make stupid decisions!

It all started a week ago when I was going to make cheesy salsa dip. It involves only 2 things. Salsa and cream cheese. In order to mix the two, the cream cheese needs to be softened so I took out a brick of Philly Cream Cheese, accept no substitutions,  and let it sit on the counter for a little while. The little while turned out to be a week because we ran out of chips for dipping then we forgot to buy more then I became sidetracked etc.

Well, on Sunday, I decided to make a fruit cocktail that is infamous in our house. One of the ingredients is cream cheese. We bought 2 fresh bricks, I mixed everything together, then tasted it. Bleh! Too sweet! I thought to myself "gee! I wish had one more thing of cream cheese! ... Wait a minute!"

Does anyone else see where this is going?

I opened the package that had sat on my counter for about 2 weeks (yes, it probably was 2 weeks) and did a sniff test. The smell of cream cheese isn't a pleasant one to begin with so that didn't work.

Okay, I'll just TASTE it. I licked it- just kidding! I'm not an animal! I take a little piece and put it in my mouth, not bad! I taste a bigger piece JUST TO BE SURE! Still tastes good. In my head, I'm thinking the warning to keep refrigerated is a gross exaggeration! This thing has been out for at least 3 weeks (yes, may have been about 21 days) and it's fine! It's probably because the kitchen was so cold- without thinking, I take another piece and eat it as I'm rummaging through the fridge for orange juice that's when I notice I do have another container of cream cheese so I decide to use that instead. Better safe than sorry, you know?

cell 12.14.09 019 I threw out the old warm cream cheese that was still perfectly fine and used the refrigerated one. My desert came out great once I de-sweeten it and we lived happily ever after! Only not!

Currently, I'm sitting at my desk (okay, computer cart!) waiting for Freddy Krueger to rip his way out of my stomach so that I may finally be at peace! The pain is un-freakin-bearable! Seriously. If I'm ever taken hostage and the terrorists want to make me spill the recipe for my pulled pork sandwiches all they have to do is give me expired cream cheese and wait 20 minutes.

This will go on my "do not do ever again!" list. Along with 'rub eyes after cleaning red pepper shaker' 'stick hands in shark tank' 'walk out in 10 degree weather while rocking flip flops' 'tap dance on thin ice' Well, let's face it, the list goes on and on.

 

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Friday, August 14, 2009

Missing!!

oooooops!

One hilarious (well, hilarious may be a stretch) post.

Last seen after being printed on an old noisy printer at Arkham Asylum and stuffed stealthily into a very stylish red nine west satchel (I'd post pictures of the purse but then it would detract from the tragedy because it is awesome).

 

Reward if found. 

 

Disclaimer!

Reward has no monetary value unless you count coconut shells as money.

Wednesday, July 22, 2009

A dirty hole is nothing to be ashamed of.

I know I promised reruns but I had a quickie (not to brag or nuthin’) so I had to come over and share. I’m not really here. At this moment I'm probably sitting in a corner wondering where two curtain panels disappeared to. I blame the laundromat people because that is when I last saw them. Bastards.

I bought a shelving unit over the weekend (MADE IN THE USA baby!) to organize all the miscellaneous items in my life that I need to keep because I know I will use them at some point during my lifetime and because now that we shop at Costco, we have massive amounts of detergent, paper towels and enough toilet paper to survive The 40 Year Poop War I’m predicting.

Anyway, I got mad at Andy because he yelled at me for asking him to help me get it into the house. He said “Why do you need MY help if YOU yourself got it into the shopping cart and then into the car?? If you could do that, why wouldn’t you go that extra mile and get it in the house by yourself??” okay, so he didn’t say that exactly but I can read between the lines!

I had interrupted an important rescue-mission/battle/nut-gathering thing, you see and we all know this is likened to an act of treason! I calmly asked him why he couldn’t just tell me he’d get it after he conquered a new world instead of being an unreasonable butthead. He argues that I always want everything NOW NOW NOW! He said it in a manner that implied that was a bad thing.

Of course now I was angry so I decided to build the Shelving Unit of Discord myself. Who needs a man? Not this semi intelligent semi fashionable semi hungry chick! I have my own tools! (I bought them on sale because they came in a cute little black and red case.) (I got a set for my mom too.)

I was disappointed to learn I only needed a hammer.

I struggled with the damn Shelving Unit of Discord for 3 hours. At one point Andy came out of the dungeon, he must have left someone he trusted in charge of the safety of the galaxy, and he brought me a long screw driver so that I may “clean up the holes because it’ll be easier”. I don’t know if you know this about me but when I’m pissed I’m poisonous. I told him to go away before I cleaned up his hole and he said something about my mouth hole and went back to the important task of saving the Earth or you know, its ugly brother, Fantasy-troll-land.

Back to me.

I swore, I sweated, I sliced my delicate hands with the sharp edges so I swore some more but louder and with more feeling so that the neighbors would know without a doubt how much my soul was suffering. In the end I was proud at what I had accomplished. I had a nice, sturdy, shelving unit that could hold the weight of 4 miniature ponies juggling bowling balls.

I liked it so much I wanted another one. Trying to exit the doghouse, Andy offered to pick one up on his way home from work. He had it put together in 10 minutes TEN MINUTES!! He didn’t gloat though because he was happy to be back on my good side and he also knew I wouldn’t share the dinner my poor, sliced up hands made (pasta shells in Alfredo sauce with broccoli and lemon pepper chicken) if he so much as uttered a single little ‘I told you so’.

shelf (can also be converted into 2 separate 2 shelf units which is what I did)


Now you’re probably thinking that Andy is a master craftsman and I should have left the building of things to a MAN but I’d have to hit you over the head with a led pipe and disagree. You see, when I moved MY shelving unit, I did so easily without having pieces fall apart in my sliced up little hands. Andy’s, however, came apart easily because you could only lift it, awkwardly may I add, from the bars holding the shelves and not the shelves themselves.

The difference? My shelves were forced into their slot holes by a woman determined to fit a half inch bracket into a ¼ inch hole but Andy “cleaned up the holes” so the shelves were all loose and wiggly (loose and wiggly- your nickname in High School?).

Woman 1,452,151 Man -7,487,778

(don’t do the math, Brian)(I typed in ‘don’t do the mEth, Brian’ but the top half of my eagle eye caught the error but I still think it’s good advice. Do not do the math OR the meth, Brian!)


The moral of the story?

Sometimes it’s okay to have a dirty hole.



P.S.

Brother Dan finally posted and he says he did so to take up my slack which I thought was nice of him and then I remembered he owed because he hates my dogs. He knows what I mean.

Wednesday, July 1, 2009

Ahhhh! El amor is forgiving, yes? Also Karma comes a-knockin'!

What is that thing people do when they may have gone over the top and mocked someone a lil bit too much because in reality the person they mocked on the previous post had a rusted piece of metal in their cornea that split into two pieces and they had to anesthetize the eye to remove it then scrape off the rust ring it left behind so I guess that person wasn't being a drama queen and was in fact in a lot of pain??

I'm not sure what the protocol is. Do I send muffins? Nah!

Instead, I gave my Andy the only thing I could find that resembled rubber tipped tweezers.



After he went to see Dr. Grim, Optometrists to the stars, he was told he had a piece of metal embedded in his cornea and it was leaving a rust ring. Dr. Grim told him it needed to be taken out by an Ophthalmologist (which I had suggested that morning but Captain Unreasonable had poo-poo’d the idea).

Once Andy called me, I hustled butt to get him in somewhere before 5 and pulled some strings (read begged and pleaded) with some cornea specialist in our area had to drop OZ's name but you know, perks.

The cornea dude had to scrape off the rust ring it left behind which ewwww! But! The good news is that now I may call Andy “Rusty” and he can’t get mad. Also, if he makes any more old jokes, he’s 4 years younger than I am, I can always say “at least I’m not the one who squeaks when they blink” “is that your rust or are you just happy to see me?” or “pardon me, I couldn’t hear you because of all the rust in your eye”. The possibilities are endless!

Hmmm it doesn’t seem like my apology is going as planned. Oh well! You can’t say I didn’t try. (No you can’t!)

Okay, as payback for my incorrigible behavior (catholic school tried), I went to a neurologist today because I’ve been having too many issues with the old bod’ and the diagnosis my regular doctor (and even the orhto to a certain extent) aren’t jiving. Nothing serious so don’t go buying a black dress but I wanted to know what’s up. I gave him my symptoms and he said maybe peripheral neuropathy (I would need an MRI and EMG -which just the thought of an EMG makes me poop my pants- to be sure) but he first wants to rule out restless leg syndrome (I said to the doctor "But my legs don't flap around violently like I'm trying to be the next Michael Flatley!" the doctor looked at me with his one bulbous eye and one squinty eye and replied "That's not what RLS is" then he studied me in silence for a minute and I closed my left eye because it was watering) so he gave me Mirapex.

The same Mirapex I first mocked here.

MIRAPEX can cause serious side effects, including:

falling asleep during normal daily activities like driving.
• low blood pressure when you sit or stand up quickly. You may have dizziness, nausea, fainting, or sweating. Sit and stand up slowly after you have been sitting or lying down for a while.
hallucinations. You may see, hear, feel, or taste something that isn’t there. You have a higher chance of having hallucinations if you are over 65 years old.

excessive gambling or sexual urges

Karma, no?

Anyway, if you see me driving while sleeping, playing blackjack and talking to no one whom I’m referring to as Brad Ryan Reynolds Pitt, just let me have my moment m'kay?