Wednesday, December 25, 2013

Life Lessons I've Learned from Tony Soprano, #5

"Everyday's a gift, but does it HAVE to be a pair of socks?"

So Sayeth the Soprano,

Wednesday, December 11, 2013

Workplace What-the-Fuckery: Drivlings From the Salt Mine

The thing I love about loud talkers (who talk on their cell phone like it's a coffee can attached to another coffee can with string) is, that I can talk about how rude they are, while I am standing RIGHT NEXT TO THEM, and they can't hear me. Swear to FSM, there's this guy who's like an effing bumble bee, pollinating otherwise quiet areas in the building with his obnoxiously loud cell phone conversations. 

Hey motherfucker! Yes you! How'zabout you take your ChattyKathy Ass to your OWN office and shut the door?!


Wednesday, December 4, 2013


Original email sent to every single employee in our agency (as if we all care or even KNOW this dillhole personally--syntax, punctuation and formatting all AS IS/AS WAS): 

            I will be breaking out the Champagne on January 2nd, 2014 to celebrate the start of my life as a relaxed rambunctious retiree.
For those of my colleagues and friends in the [redacted] who may have missed the celebration in Syracuse honoring my 35 years of service with the [redacted] , I would like to offer a few pearls of wisdom.
            From my days in the [redacted] Bureau,  I learned that if you are unable to read a map…you are probably holding it upside down.
I also learned that “chains and links” is not a description of a dysfunctional marital situation.
           From my days in the [redacted #2]  I learned that an insurance adjuster will never admit that the damaged State guardrail probably prevented his/her company from making a larger pay out for the accident.
           I also learned that wrestling with a greased pig at a county fair or litigating with evasive student loan debtors can be pretty much the same experience.
            Finally, from my days in the [redacted #3] Bureau I learned that it is impossible to explain a hospital bill to a patient or his/her family members in under 1,000 words.
               I learned too that my friends and colleagues in the [redacted] are the best. I wish all of you success in your careers and endeavors.
               As they said in Rome….”Laborate et vosmet rebus servate secundum diebus prosperibus”…work hard and save yourselves for happier days…such as retirement!
How about litigating with a greased pig ? Thanks for the wisdom, good luck to you! 
Response #2 REPLY ALL:
Hear! Hear! We are going to miss your infamous poems and ponderings …
 [Subtext no doubt: you’re full of shit and prattle endlessly.]


Response #3, ALSO, REPLY ALL:
Witty words of wisdom indeed, and as always; however, now I am picturing you wresting that greased pig!

Response #4, REPLY ALL:
 As someone who is currently working in the [REDACTED]  Bureau, thanks for the tip on the maps---that explains a lot. Have a happy retirement!

Workplace What-the-Fuckery: Douchebaggery En Masse

[Co-worker's mom died yesterday a.m. As per Jewish tradition, she's being buried today. Aforementioned co-worker sits a mere eight (8) feet from me.]

Today's stunning example of Douchebaggery En Masse is, realizing upon arrival this a.m., that EVERY SINGLE PERSON in my office is attending the funeral and burial AS A GROUP. 

Obviously, this was discussed yesterday amongst themselves, yet at no point in time did they think to include me. 

Wednesday, November 20, 2013

Workplace What-the-Fuckery: Your Tax Dollars At Work

1. You're 2 security assistants who have a problem with your manager and decide rather than NUT UP and be a man and tell your manager you have a problem with him, you scamper off to his boss to lodge a complaint.
2. You're that boss and decide to punish the manager in #1 by relocating the workers to different positions, thereby reducing the department of the aforementioned manager in #1 to one person, that being the manager himself. (Yes, you read correct: a department of ONE PERSON.)
3. You're a former-security assistant who is the go-to person for issues that arise when the manager in #1 is out of the office, and despite you and everyone else knowing this, you put others in the middle by refusing to do what you're supposed to do if/when that manager is out of the office, when folks go directly to you, yanno, since we're all, allegedly, on the same team, which then leaves those of us caught in the middle to project, albeit second hand, your assholeishness to the bossman to get him to deal with the situation at hand, which hilariously enough, involves HIM asking you to do the very thing you were just asked to do in the first place.

Your tax dollars at work, motherfuckers! 

Total time it took to get someone to remedy this situation: 20 minutes.
Total time it should have taken to remedy this situation, minus the assholery:  1< scant minute should have been sufficient to remedy the situation.

Thursday, November 14, 2013

Workplace What-the-Fuckery: Horsey McBigtooth Edition

You might be an asshole if you treat me like the mother-fucking-hired-help and decide to do a power play with me over something that'd take less than 2 minutes to remedy:

No, dipshit. *I* am the one being the asshole for insisting you re-do your certified mail and put the return receipt on the back of the envelope LIKE THE REST OF HUMANITY DOES, because very clearly, I do NOT have anything better to do with my time than to fuck with your outgoing mail item. CLEARLY, I am the one being the asshole here. (NOT!)

(hour later...)

Touche dipshit. Insisting on leaving the return receipt required tag on the front of your envelope? Bravo on asserting yourself. I shall stamp the envelope and YOU can go to the overcrowded post office during YOUR lunch hour and see how this experiment goes.

I thoroughly anticipated She-of-the-Big-Toothedness to return to the office VICTORIOUS, a la Smuggy McSmuggerson (on the very off chance that she could mail the item with the green tag on the front of the mail article). But no! GLORY DAY, GLORY DAY, MOTHERFUCKERS! She slinked back to her office and nary a peep was heard from for the rest of the day. I can only deduce that "she got told" by a USPS clerk to do up a new tag.  

I am counting down the days until our office relocates (estimated time from now: 94 days, unless they change the date AGAIN), at which point in time Karma will reach around and bite her in her ass (in the form of her becoming part of the herd and no longer a "some body special" with an actual office with a door). Comeuppance Day is a-comin', bitch! Yeee hawwww!

End Note: FML. She didn't say shit to me yesterday because I went into stealth mode. Apparently you CAN stick that green tag on the front of your envelope (if there's room). So of course, moving forward, that's how she's going to do that from now on just to be a twat. 

PS: She shall be dubbed Horsey McBigtooth. While looking like Jack McBrayer of 30 Rock is okay for Jack McBrayer, it's not a good look for a female. Yeah, picture Jack McBrayer with a pixie haircut and a barrette, with entitlement issues. That's what I'm dealing with. She could very easily eat an apple thru a picket fence, if you know what I mean.

Friday, October 4, 2013

You Might Be An Asshole If...

You might be an asshole if... you are the White Plains Parking Authority drone in question:

(Said to a Parking Code Enforcement Drone): "Hey, are you going to tell her to move? She's in front of a hydrant!"
(Drone): "Uh, she's not blocking you in. You can back up."
Me: "That's a ticketable offense, and you're telling ME to move?"
(Drone): .oO *crickets*
Me:  "Thanks for being so helpful."
Total # of mini-K turns it took to extricate myself from my spot: 3

Wednesday, September 4, 2013

So Sayeth Twitter, #2

So yeah, this a.m., I was checking out my Twitter feed, and noticed this tweet by The Waffle Truck in NYC:
Wafels & Dinges ‏@waffletruck 39m
Goesting is at Broadway & 66th till 9pm Bierbeek is at NW corner of Union Square (Bway & 17th St) Kotmadam is at the Great Lawn until 8pm
I tweeted back:
I really need new glasses, as I read that as "GOATSEing..." Yeah. This will end well. Methinks.

Tuesday, August 27, 2013

So Sayeth Twitter, #1

From Twitter today: 
Your Life Coaches ‏@LIFECOACHERS Only express positive emotions on the Internet, otherwise you'll get one too many heart icons and want to kill yourself for real.

Thursday, August 15, 2013

My Shitty Neighbors: Stroller Edition

Slapping this pic up here for posterity. Yet another example of anti-neighborly, shit bag behaviors, which of course, went without any intervention by the condo board management. Look at all that shit in the hallway. And when it wasn't this shit, then it literally was their garbage or bags of shitty diapers waiting to go out to the dumpster. And of course, these assholes came and left without so much as the management darkening their doorstep, yet, guess who got a $25 fine for a SINGULAR PLANT STAND? Yep. You guessed right. FUCK ME RUNNING. I hate this fucking place.

End note: Our building's "fairy godmother" who goes around getting all the proxies from those of us who are unable to attend condo board meetings is STILL AGHAST over the fact I was fined for my fucking plant stand. At least I'm not alone in my righteous indignation.

You Might Be An Asshole If...

If you are a driver for Splendid Taxi in White Plains, New York, you are no doubt an asshole of royal proportions. Smooth move there, Exlax!, trying to change lanes while ASTRIDE. Inquiring minds want to know, who the fuck did you pay off to take the written exam for your driver's license? Every last one of you are a menace on the road. Fuck you!

My Shitty Neighbors: Coney Island Whitefish Edition

Several summers ago, several "Coney Island Whitefish" were strewn about our condo, and this one, coincidentally, had taken up residence in my shrubbery (aka BOXwood). Yeah, this was not a quality of life issue in the condo, warranting a knock on the door by the Bucktoothed Bitch (TM) or warranting the dispensing of fines. Yeah. Big bloated bags of rancifying DNA, aka BIOHAZARDS, yeah. Yet one more example of the ineptitude of our condo management, yet my pretty kurtas hanging to dry for a scant half hour on a dry breezy day in the summer is the REAL quality of life issue that demands immediate attention. FUCK THESE PEOPLE.

Wednesday, August 14, 2013

Shit My Husband Says

Last night after I was admiring the near-prehensile nature of his feet, he replied, "I'm ambiFOOTerous."

Monday, August 12, 2013

Life Lessons I've Learned From Tony Soprano, #6

Those who want respect, give respect.

So Sayeth the Soprano,

(Season 2: The Knight in White Satin Armor)

Thursday, August 1, 2013

Life Lessons I've Learned from Tony Soprano, #5

Tony: (to Dr. Melfi) Don't be stupid, even in the short term.

So Sayeth the Soprano,

Season 1, Episode 13

Tuesday, July 23, 2013

Thursday, July 18, 2013

Things I'd Rather Be Doing, Right This Moment, Rather Than Be In The Office

Here's a list of unpleasant things I'd rather do than be in the office:
1. Gyno exam.
2. Mammo.
3. Having a (dental) crown prepped without novocaine.
4. Endoscopy.
5. Transvaginal ultrasound.
6. Uterine biopsy.
7. Thyroid biopsy.
8. Be under anesthesia for any, of an assortment of, surgery.
9. Home, removing my own plantars warts (yes, I did this as a teen.)
10. Home, manually disimpacting myself.

All ten of these things, as unpleasant as they are, are far BETTER than being in the office.

Wednesday, July 10, 2013

Shit My Husband Has Said To Me (Posted elsewhere, in 2007)

Knowing what esteem I hold Gandhi-ji, my husband, my Hindustani husband uttered this, and prefaced it with, “And let me paraphrase, Gandhi”:

Increasing Your Word Power: Boxitosis

An oldie but a goodie from my dad.

Definition: A condition of having offensive-smelling vagina odor; stinky twat.
Pronunciation: box·i·to·sis
[Origin: 2008; Modern English, "Box" (Colloquial, vagina) + -itus (Latin, suffix of v. action (prob. by analogy with spīritus spirit)]

My Shitty Neighbors: The Shrieking Lunatic Edition (or the BMW Bitch, for short)

With the exception of four owners (out of the eight) on our end of the building, I operate on the premise that the remainder of my neighbors do not exist, or are classified as "persona non-grata" due to their individual, unneighborly assholeishness. 

I'm going to have to work my way backwards and post a series of the "myriad of ways my neighbors suck." However, I'll start this series off with an interaction that happened JUST THIS MORNING, nearly an hour ago. 

10 p.m. in the dark of night, I pull into the south entrance to my parking lot and am executing a left turn to hopefully find the last spot in the lot (given the time of day, it's a crap shoot), only to have a BMW (which entered thru the north entrance) CUT. ME. OFF. to get what they presumed to be the last spot back by the dumpster, leaving me no recourse but to park between two rather large oversized trucks, both of which were parked on the right most and left most lines of their parking spots, respectively. I seriously wanted to go Tawandaaaaaaaaaa!! On that bitch. 

Pan forward to 9:25 a.m. today. I'm dressed for work, have my ID badge on, am lugging a load of laundry, my feed bag and tote bag, and CLEARLY on my way if not to work, but to someplace else, when a wild eyed lunatic approaches me. Without introducing herself (Hi, I'm so-and-so, from such-and-such unit in the same building), the interaction goes thusly:

Her: Is the office open today? 
Me: Why wouldn't it? (walk a few paces) 
Her: Can I use your cell phone? 
(I assess her as a lunatic, a lunatic who is dressed as if she went out for a run. Yeah. Let me give a stranger who RUNS my brand new phone, when I, very clearly, AM NOT A RUNNER.) 
Me: I don't have it on me. (walk a few more paces) 
Her: (getting even more agitated) I need to get a ladder so I can get into my condo. (I am still walking) 
Her: (doing her best, "I won't be ignored, Dan!!!" voice) Yanno, I'd help YOUUUU if the shoe were on the other foot. (in the back of my mind, I'm having a conversation with myself, "Is this really happening?" And thinking of course, of about ten different ways this could play out, all ten different ways end badly.) 
Me: First, I told you I don't have my phone on me. Second, I'm CLEARLY on my way to work. And THIRD, WHO THE FUCK *ARE* YOU? 
Her: (verbatim, shrieking it out) I AM NOT AN ANIMAL. I AM A HUMAN BEING!!! (Yeah, just like John Merrick, aka The Elephant Man. JUST. EFFING. LIKE IT.) 

So I get in the car, and the Maharajah starts railing me: 

Him: You picked a great day to socialize, when we're late for work. 
Me: THAT was not socializing. That woman is a lunatic. And before I tell you what happened, I already know you're going to be angry with me because I flat out refused to help someone. (I tell him the exchange w/the lunatic.) 
Him: You know who she is. She's the bitch with the BMW (now mind you, he doesn't even KNOW about how the BMW cut me off last night). How did she react when your phone rang? I called you to see what the hold up was.
Me: My phone didn't ring. Fortunately I have it on silent.
Him: By the way, did the big red truck park AFTER or BEFORE you came home last night? Me: After. 
Him: WTF. Why did you park here? And how the eff did you get out of the car? 
Me: It was the only spot left and I had groceries to lug inside, and oh, by the way… (I commenced regaling him w/the BMW cutting me off in the parking lot). So yeah, hilarious, isn't it? There she is demanding I do something to help, to be a good neighbor; however, most people would agree that cutting off a neighbor in a shared lot would not constitute being "neighborly." FUCK HER. 
Him: Fuck her! 
Me: I hate people. 
Him: Me too. 
Me: I love you have a great day, babe! 

And off to work we both go. 

Backstory: How did the bitch come to possess the aforementioned BMW? By successfully suing our condo management for one thing or another over the years. Yes, while she was awarded $$$ and bought the BMW with it, and insists on parking ASKEW, taking up two spots in an already crowded lot, her actions also have led to our maintenance fees GOING UP. Also? The only awareness I had of her before this little interaction, and beyond the BMW, was the fact that every time we walk past her condo, she's in there SHRIEKING like a lunatic to her mother, who is housebound and handicapped. End Note: Turns out the person she shrieks at isn't her mother, who I've come to learn has been long-dead, but is with whomever she happens to be on the PHONE.

Life Lessons I've Learned From Tony Soprano, #3

"When you're married, you'll understand the importance of fresh produce."

So Sayeth the Soprano,

Wednesday, June 26, 2013

Lesson I've Learned from Pearls Before Swine

"There are only two kinds of people: Abnormal people, and people you do not know well enough."


Shit My Husband Has Said To Me

Upon learning I ate something from Halal Guys while in NYC yesterday, my husband quipped, "So, I guess you ENJOY getting diarrhea?" 

Disclaimer: No post-prandial diarrhea was experienced.

Life Lessons I've Learned From Tony Soprano, #2

"Remember when..." is the lowest form of conversation. 

So Sayeth the Soprano.

Wednesday, June 12, 2013

Life Lessons I've Learned From Tony Soprano, #1

"You don't shit where you eat. And you especially don't shit where *I* eat."

So sayeth the Soprano,

Tuesday, June 4, 2013

Wednesday, May 22, 2013

POV Proverbial Fly on the Wall

Yanno it truly IS "love" when you and your spouse both realize each of you are "blind pimple cyclopses," and at that very moment, each of you start face diving the other, to bash your cycloptic forehead into the other's.

(We call it "zit kiss." We're still working on a proper name for this activity. Yeah. We're twisted like that.)

Wednesday, May 1, 2013

Caveat Bloggum: Blog Reader Beware

Just a head's up, that if you continue to scroll through my archives, it is quite possible you will come face to face (or face-to-toilet, rather) with a photo my co-irker had sent to my WORK PLACE EMAIL address without a subject line, and without a file name that would belie what, exactly, was in the photo attachment. 

I shall pepper this warning amongst other blog posts, as a warning. I believe I will plant the photo, back dated perhaps as the maiden post of this blog because it demands being documented.

You have been warned.

Tuesday, April 30, 2013

Reading Is Fundamental

Use your words properly, people! 

Today's linguistic grouse is brought to you, thanks to a SPATE of it being used incorrectly on social media this week:

Looser vs Loser.

Looser = more loose = less tight. Kinda like your mom's vagina (or your dad's condom).

Loser = one who has lost something. Kinda like your dad's condom, wedding ring or watch, IN, your mom's vagina.

So by extension: when you use "looser" when you mean "loser," you appear more like the latter. (And yes, it matters.)

So do you have something else to axe me?

Natural Consequence

This is the natural and only consequence of tucking one's knitting needles into one's couch cushions, POINTS UP, when there are rambunctious children in the house. 

Thank the universal powers that be, that it went clear through and did not hit any nerves or major arteries in the process.

Apropos of Something

Follow up to this post.

Fuck good intentions.
Alternately: Fuck me for giving a shit.

Workplace What-the-Fuckery: Heard in the Cubefarm Today

In response to my suggesting to "cold boot" the copier-scanner (and it worked, and a loud HURRAH was heard in the cube farm): 
"By NO means is anyone to take this as an indication that I know anything technological. Turning the damned thing off is the only acceptable thing to do, because my FIRST impulse would be to hit it repeatedly with a hammer."

No Good Can Ever Come From

This might as well be a companion piece to this previous post. 

No good can ever come from the husband finding out about my (now, not-so-) secret stash of dog poop on the balcony*. He has been telling me, repeatedly, how I'm a psychopath, and how he anticipates his disembodied head to be in the freezer any day now.

*Full disclosure: Dog poop to be strafed in the area outside my balcony, to form a field of fecal land mines, to help thwart/repel the feral spawn of inattentive condo owners. The aforementioned spawn have a club house, basketball court, swimming pool, and playground all at their disposal. Where do they congregate to make their RUCKUS (up until 9 p.m., no less)? Yes. Outside my balcony, thus ensuring I can never sit out there to enjoy my balcony and the greater outdoors in relative peace and quite. My dog poop stash is a fecal fuck you.

End note: 6/26/13 Dog poop as a passive-aggressive tool works. At least in the short term. For once in the seven years I have lived in my condo, I was finally able to enjoy sitting out on my balcony, relaxing in a lounge chair, in peace and quiet. 

Guess Who's The Jew: Part Two

Hank Azaria. Whoah! Didn't see that one coming AT ALL!

Portmanteau a la Minute

I cannot even lay claim to this one; however, a friend shared the image with me, hence, I'm sharing it herein.

Thursday, April 25, 2013

Thursday, April 4, 2013

Shit My Husband Has Said To Me

Preface: So we're talking about dogs mating, and he asked why the get locked together. I mention a bit about the "bulb" and how after sexytimes, that is what locks dogs together, I think it's a mechanism of nature to keep the dogs together to ensure the likelihood the female gets pregnant.

Him: I think it's to ensure they get enough cuddle time (okay, he actually said, cuddly-boodly).
Me: Yeah, because we ALL KNOW how much dogs dig post-coital cuddle time.

Friday, March 15, 2013

Life Lesson: Best Advice Ever Given To Me

(Courtesy of husband's grandmother)

"In probably 75% of situations, problems resolve themselves without any involvement from you."

Thursday, March 14, 2013

Mavenism of the Moment

"Raspberry Beret."
Definition: The (sexual) act of "going in through the out door."


A fool and their money are soon parted. 

Funny thing is, same thing goes for her panties, too.

Monday, March 11, 2013

Guess Who's The Jew: Part 1

In tonight's rousing round of "Guess Who's The Jew," I was stumped. I *thought* John Wayne was Jewish (according to, he was Catholic). Maharajah's response: "There you go again, this one's a Jew, that one's a Jew. Next thing you'll tell me JESUS was a Jew."

LOL... Whut?

I know I work in a depressing place when i reveal i want to work at a crematorium, my coworker poo poos that idea and suggests that I file a sexual harassment suit against him, and we split the settlement.
My reply to him: "Hey, I like how you're thinking outside the box... or is it INSIDE the box?"

Wednesday, March 6, 2013


Unless I ask you specifically (AND PRIVATELY) to show me, don't presume that since I, too, have had WLS, that I want to see your defatted, deflated pannus/skin flap, aka upper GUNT region. Double that if we are at someone else's birthday party (and you're yanking your upper gunt right out, right next to the birthday cake). It's crass, and really? No one likes a show off.

Monday, March 4, 2013

You Might Be An Asshole If...

You make plans with someone, then change your plans, and lack the courtesy to reply to calls, texts, voice mails etc, yet there you are, all day, TWEETING. 

You, madam, are an asshole.

Sunday, March 3, 2013

Shit My Husband Has Said To Me

(Said today in regards to the timing of my mom's birthday party.)

Him:  So what time is this SHIT dig?
Me: Don't you mean, "SHIN DIG?"
Him: Nope. SHIT dig.

I'd say that's a fair assessment.

Friday, March 1, 2013

Exchanges With The Bossman

The other day, while expounding on the merits of "pocket likker" to the Bossman, he replied, "Pocket likker? Who the hell ARE you? W.C. Fields?"

Exchanges With The Bossman

In regards to the brownies I intend on making this weekend:

Him: "They won't contain CAROB will they?"
Me: "Carob is a crime against all chocoholic humanity. (NO!)"

LOL! ... Whut?!?

(Actual dialogue between me and a PD dispatcher, March 2009.)

Me:  I’d like to report a road hazard.
PD:  Where is it?
Me:   I just made a right from Main onto Lexington–roughly 3-4 yards in from the intersection.
PD:   Can you describe the hazard?
Me:   Yeah. It’s a sink.
PD:  You mean the road is sinking?
Me:  No. There’s a sink right there.
PD:  You mean a sink-HOLE?
Me:  No!! A stainless steel kitchen sink, it’s up-ended.
PD:  Was it under-mounted?

Wednesday, February 27, 2013

You Might Be a Dipshit If...

You might be a dipshit if you're surprised at how expensive travel and vacations are during national holidays, especially holidays during the summer, when every asshole is traveling with their kids while on summer break.

You Might Be An Asshole If...

You send us all an email informing us that you brought bagels in for everyone and the aforementioned bagels are from New Jersey, and then feel compelled to append said email with "I promise they're from the clean part of Jersey." FuckYOUverymuch!

Tuesday, February 26, 2013

Life Lessons: Best Advice Ever Given To Me

(From my former high school gym teacher Mrs. White. I have taken this out of original context and have applied it to a multitude of situations in my life and has fared me very well.)

"Never volunteer."

Monday, February 25, 2013

Shit I've Said To My Husband

Given his love of all things "I Love Lucy," and given his sarcastic nature, last night I referred to him (to his face) as: Pricky Prickardo.

Saturday, February 23, 2013

Random Shit Other Folks Have Said To Me

(Overheard at one of my barbeques in July 2009.)

Appreciative Guest:  “Gee, this is delicious. It tastes just like chicken teriyaki.” 
Me:  “Um, that’s because IT IS CHICKEN TERIYAKI.”

Friday, February 22, 2013

Workplace What-the-Fuckery: Refrigerator Edition #2

You (singularly or collectively) might be an asshole if: Your asshole-itude requires not merely one, but TWO signs. Apparently there's a wide array of "Work Place Refrigerator Assholes" where I work, fuckyouverymuch.

Shit My Husband Has Said To Me

(Said this morning, in response to me stating who were my favorite historical characters in the movie Titanic.)

Him: "Lemme guess. Fatty McGoo?"
Me: "You mean Molly Brown?"
Him: "Yeah. Fatty McGoo."


(This nugget is from October 2009.)

Public Service for the Gentlemen following my updates: If your wife is considering bariatric surgery, and if you have a convo re: football players being “massive and aggressive,” DO NOT tell your wife you think she is massive. You will not get your “ticket punched for a trip thru Tuna Town” for a long, long time. Ask me how I know this. I dare you. Ask me.

Thursday, February 21, 2013

Portmanteau a la Minute

Definition: A sudden onset catastrophe involving scat and your ass, oftentimes explosive and publicly humiliating.

Shit I've Said To My Husband

(This nugget is from November 2009.)

Him: [said something amusing] *Bah dum bump!*
Me: Rim Shot!
Him: I thought that meant licking someone’s ass?
Me: No. That’s *RIM JOB.*

Wednesday, February 20, 2013

Workplace What-the-Fuckery: Refrigerator Edition #1

You might be an asshole if:

You think that leaving this frozen soda can carnage in a shared workplace freezer is acceptable.

Tuesday, February 19, 2013

Shit My Husband Has Said To Me

(In direct relation to the previous blog post, btw.)

""If you ever want to have sex with me again, STFU."

Monday, February 18, 2013

No Good Can Ever Come From

Informing my husband that I'm MERELY THINKING about collecting my urine to conduct an EXPERIMENT to see if it'd work to balance out the pH on my scalp.

Trust me on this one. I need to just keep that information to myself.

Thursday, February 14, 2013


Gentlemen:  No good can ever come from saying to your loved one (on Valentine's Day, no less), "Hey! Grrr!! What's that smell? Do you need the bathroom?" (Uh, no thanks. It's actually my broccoli in my take home container.)  You will NOT get your ticket punched to enter Tunatown (TM). Trust me.

Sunday, February 10, 2013

Portmanteau a la Minute

"PTGD" Post-traumatic gifting disorder
Definition: State of being so underwhelmed by someone's response (and utter lack of appreciation or gratitude) to receiving your handmade gift.

Saturday, February 9, 2013

Shit My Husband Has Said To Me

Husband: "It seems you're just crocheting just to crochet at this point."

Me: "I fail to see the problem."

Friday, January 25, 2013

Shit I've Said To My Husband

Me:    Honey, can you get me a Zantac?
Him:  Huh? What? Tampax?
Me:    No. Zantac.
Him:  Zithro?
Me:    No. Zamfir.
Him:  *blink blink*
Me:    Yanno? The dude with the panflute.
Him:  *blink blink*

Portmanteau a la Minute

A state of conflict between two people where one (or both parties) person is being over-the-top nasty, far more nasty than the confrontation calls for.

Thursday, January 24, 2013

You Might Be An Asshole If

You might be an asshole if...  
While accusing someone ELSE of being an "asshole" about food (then back pedal and call them a snob) you are eating at a banal greasy spoon known for its burgers and soup (a place so chosen because you have boring, provincial taste in food). 

Furthermore, if enjoying TASTY food makes me an asshole, it makes me wonder WTF YOU dine on regularly? Sawdust and Kindergarten paste?

Wednesday, January 23, 2013


Technically, nothing follows; however, this is in response to my previous blog post. 

Tuesday, January 22, 2013

Shit My Husband Has Said To Me

"Render unto Caesar that which is Caesar's--where's the Rx cough syrup, woman!"

Monday, January 21, 2013

Portmanteau & Nonsequitir

Facon, fake bacon. One of many illusions in the post modern world.

Sunday, January 20, 2013

You Might Be An Asshole If

You send me an email or text reply with nothing more than, "K!"

That right there is a conversation ender. No further interaction with YOU today.

Furthermore, 9/10ths of the time that "K!" isn't even necessary. 

Thanks to you, you SINGLE-HANDEDLY have destroyed my enjoyment of texting or emails with this obnoxious little idiosyncrasy.  Not only do I hate talking on the phone with you, I hate non-verbal communication, too! SCORE!

Saturday, January 19, 2013


Average depth of an adult human mouth: 4 inches (approx). 
Average length of adult human tongue: 4 inches (approx).
Average length of adult human vagina: 4-5 inches (approx).
Average length of adult human penis: 4-5 inches (approx).

Friday, January 18, 2013

You Might Be An Asshole If...

You call your friends or loved ones no fewer than FIVE times a day, with the calls starting as early as 7 a.m.. then have the audacity and total lack of self-awareness and say, "I hope I'm not being a burden..."

Fuck that noise! You ARE a burden!

Thursday, January 17, 2013

Portmanteau a la Minute

Context: What masquerades as a conversation, a talk between two people, but really is one person talking AT another person and not WITH another person.
Definition: Spleen venting, rage soliloquy.

See also: Sometimes is also a simultaneous "vowel movement."

Tuesday, January 15, 2013


Perspective is everything. To one person, talk is talk; to another, it's nothing short of a "vowel movement."

Monday, January 14, 2013

Shit My Husband Has Said To Me

"I need some giblet gravy. I don't know what it is exactly, but I need it damn it."

Sunday, January 13, 2013

Life Lesson From Maven: No Good Ever Comes From

"Friending" your family on Facebook. 

You're going to have to trust me on this one. Fuck that noise!

Saturday, January 12, 2013


Yanno how "nothing rhymes with orange?" I don't think anything rhymes with pseudomonas (sp?), either.

Friday, January 11, 2013

Shit I've Said To One of My Parents

(To my mother.)

"While sis is manually disimpacting your bowels is perhaps NOT the best time to inform her of how very unspecial she is."

Context: Mom felt compelled at that point in time to expound on how she has a distinctly different relationship with all three of us kids. "I" apparently am the "friend," my brother is the "baby," and my sister, well, "I just love you because you're my daughter."  Yeah, just what every person with a fistful of someone ELSE'S feces just needs to know at that precise moment. 

Thursday, January 10, 2013

Random Shit Other Folks Have Said To Me

"Your voice is so soothing. I'm going to call you every day. You sound just like the psychiatrist on M*A*S*H*."

Wednesday, January 9, 2013

No Good Can Ever Come From

No good can ever come from having a career that requires you to stoop over someone for upwards of an hour if you suffer from gastric reflux. Seriously, no one needs to hear you gulping back your bolis, chyme or bile as they are trying to get a therapeutic massage. 

Fuck that noise!

Tuesday, January 8, 2013

Things You Should Never Say To Someone In Crisis

In response to your fertility issues: "Get over it, the world is over populated enough as it is."

Doesn't matter what was said prior to/or after that statement. 

If silence is golden, why is duct tape silver? Sometimes the best thing to say is nothing at all.

Monday, January 7, 2013

Shit My Husband Has Said To Me

" Little Debbie (cakes)? What about Big Debbie? Sizeist bastards!"

Sunday, January 6, 2013

There Are Two Types of People In This World...

1. Those whose very lives personify what you strive to be; and
2. Those whose very lives serve as nothing but a cautionary tale of what to avoid.

In either case, we have a lot to learn from both of these motherfuckers.

Saturday, January 5, 2013

Shit I Have Said To My Husband

During coitus, I have had occasion to look over my shoulder, giving my husband the "fish eye" aka "hairy eyeball" and growl at him, while he's pumping away at me at the same time grousing about how I fail to keep the house clean enough, "Look here. You can either fuck me or fight with me, but you can't do both at the same time."

He wised up, STFU, and kept pumping like a good little soldier.

Friday, January 4, 2013

No Good Ever Comes From

Taking either a Sominex or Melatonin at the same time as a laxative with a built in stool softener.

Thursday, January 3, 2013

Things You Should Never Say To Someone In Crisis

1. When someone's parent or sibling passes away six weeks ago, the appropriate response is NOT, "Just get over it already."

Fuck that noise!

Wednesday, January 2, 2013

There Are Two Types of People In This World

1. Those who pick their nose and flick their boogers; and
2. Those who pick and eat their boogers.

(Well, really there's a third category, and those perverts are the ones who smear their nose gobblins in places you'd never expect; but who's counting!)

Tuesday, January 1, 2013

No Good Can Ever Come From...

Eating watermelon or tomatoes in January. 

Globalization, my pasty white ass! It just doesn't taste good. Fuck that noise!