Chatty Patty and Judy Attitudey

Today's courtesy shuttle bus driver was new. I've never seen her before. But she certainly is a doozy! A bit of a chatty patty and a judy attitudey, all rolled into one.

First of all, the most uncomfortable thing occurred: I was the ONLY rider on the bus. I hate when this happens. Not only do I feel like a world-class asshole, but now the driver is compelled to talk to me. The trick is not to make eye-contact. But somehow, she caught me in the rear view. Damnit!

I should have known it was going to be a wild ride when she asked me where I going and when I answered, she replied, "And we're off." It was all downhill from there.

Now, we were waiting to go down the little aisle in the parking lot to get to the exit, when another car started driving down in the opposite direction. Being that the bus is enormous, there is no room for both vehicles to drive at the same time. Now, since it is the COURTESY shuttle, and the large obstruction in the lane, you would think she would wait quitely and let said car pass.

What ensued was a bit of a stand-off. The bus and car were both waiting for the other to pass. Instead of giving the friendly wave to let the car go, Judy Attitudey yells, "Oh no, don't worry about us!! WE have nowhere to go!! Just take your freakin time!!!" Of course, now I am drawn into this because when she says "we" she is obviously involving me. I give the uncomfortable nod and partial smile.

And so it begins....

Finally the car goes by and she rambles on about what a jerk the guys is, etc. I just sat there, forced to listen. Then we drive down the main boulevard and she nearly hits a pedestrian crossing the street while she is making a right-hand turn. Now Chatty Patty, her other personality, says, "Poor thing! She didn't know what I was going to do! Thought I would run her over. I don't know why they always think that!" She allows a pause for me to reply, which I don't. Then she says, "Of course, I'd never do it!"

I wanted to respond with a: Perhaps these pedestrians always think that you are going to hit them because you are driving 50mph and IN the crosswalk lines while they are trying to cross the street! But instead, just gave the nod and smile.

Then we pull up to the main building, where they are doing construction. "Looks like a war zone here!" she proclaims. And then proceeds to tell me her opinions on the construction, the plans the construction crews have for the construction, etc, etc, etc. Meanwhile, the bus seems to be moving in slo-mo, and it feels like I've been riding it for several hours.

I could not get off of that damn bus fast enough. In fact, I started to get up while it was still moving, and was prepared to jump off whilst it was still in motion. I felt like a trapped animal who was ready to gnaw off my own leg to get the hell out of there.

Finally, I was freed. I got the, "now you have a good weekend, ya hear, darlin?" as I exited. GOOD GRIEF!

I really wish I was less lazy and just hoofed it into work. But, like Dunkin' Donuts, the short bus is addictive. And, like Dunkin' Donuts, the shuttle bus people employ only the best and brightest. Not to mention the fact that I love to complain. And this is really good fodder.

The House of Constantine Falls to the Ground

Good bye, Good riddance, Good luck to ya. Don't let the door hit you in the ass on your way out, Constantine.

I loved the surprised look on your face last night as Ryan Seacrest kicked you to the curb! You think you're so hot. No way you could be in the bottom 3. You just march right over to Carrie & Bo thinking you are making it.... of course you are, right? WRONG!

I loved watching that smarmy, conceeded, swarthy grin run right off of your face as you watched your "goodbye" video. Talking about how - oh if I leave to tomorrow, I won't care and all that other horse shit. You did that video thinking it would never air. Well ha, ha, ha. And nananana, hey hey hey, goodbye.

I have to give props to America. I really thought they were going to let him be this season's Justin Guarini. But they finally got it right. And goodbye to you.

Pete and Repeat

Here is my conversation at Dunkin' Donuts this morning. DAMN THEIR COFFEE --- IT'S ADDICTIVE!

DD: Welcome to Dunkin' Donuts. Can I take your order?
LoLo: I'd like the number three with an XL decaf with just cream and a plain bagel with plain cream cheese. That's all.
DD: I'm sorry, which number would you like?
LL: 3 (the only one with the bagel, dumbass)
DD: And what size coffee would you like?
LL: ???? An XL decaf, please (dumbass)
DD: Oh, you want decaf?
LL: Yes (dumbass)
DD: Cream and sugar?
LL: JUST CREAM, please (you effing dumbass)
DD: What kind of bagel would you like?
LL: !!! JUST PLAIN (you son of a whore effing dumbass)
DD: Do you want cream cheese?
LL: (IS THIS AN EFFING JOKE??!!!) Just plain cream cheese (you mother-effing son of a whore piece of shit dumbass).
DD: Anything else?
LL: (ARE YOU KIDDING?) No, as stated before, that's all I want
DD: WHAT?
LL: NO, THAT IS ALL (die, dumbass!! Die!!!
DD: Please pull around for your total.

PULL AROUND FOR MY TOTAL?!?! IN THE 20 MINUTES YOU SPENT TAKING MY ORDER, YOU COULDN'T FIGURE OUT HOW MUCH IT COSTS? IT SAYS RIGHT ON THE EFFING MENU BOARD HOW MUCH EACH "VALUE" MEAL IS, BASED ON WHAT SIZED COFFEE YOU GET. WHAT IN THE HELL IS THE MATTER WITH THESE PEOPLE? AND WHO THE EFF HIRED THEM?? AND WHAT'S WRONG WITH THAT GUY?!?! I SWEAR, THEY MUST ALL GET IN AT 5AM AND TOKE UP. I HALF EXPECTED TO HEAR AN, "AND DEEEEEEENNNNNNNN???" OR A "DUDE, WHAT'S MINE SAY?" SHIT!!! SHIT, SHIT, SHIT!

Okay, now this all happened before 6am. I really do not need to be starting my days this way. Of course, I leave there and end up getting behind Slam-On-The-Brakes-As-I-Get-To-The-Bottom-Of-The-Freeway-Entrance-Ramp Guy. I HATE THAT GUY! I'd really like to ram my effing car right into the back of his "W in 04" bumper-sticker riddled car. But I don't because I'm too busy trying not to get hit by the on-coming traffic that is going 70mph while I'm trying to get up to 20mph.....

And, as if this isn't enough, on top of everything else, is there any radio station in Cleveland that actually plays music in the morning? Is that too hard to ask?? And how about playing a DECENT song? It doesn't even have to be great. Just okay. How about someone just playing a crappy song? FOR THE LOVE OF GOD!!!!! Is playing that funky music too hard to ask, white boy??? Jimmeny Christmas!

Great, now I'm PISSED. Thanks a lot Dunkin' Donuts. YOU RUINED MY LIFE!

The ladies like it wet

So I go down to get a Greek salad for lunch today in the cafeteria.

There is a station all set up where the chef personally prepares your salad fresh and on-the spot. Let's call him JohnnyOnTheSpot.

So Johnny-O puts all of the ingredients in my salad. He is now ready to put on the dressing. Mmmmmmmmm.... dressing. Then Johnny-O asks me how many scoops of dressing I want on my salad. So I innocently ask him what people normally get. His response? "Well, maybe one and a half or two. But the ladies like three. They like it wet."

WTF????

People, I could not get out of there fast enough. I gave the nervous laugh, stared at the floor, and grabbed my to-go box. It was strangely covered in a slimy, slippery substance. I can only pray that it was dressing.....

If you're not going to wave, hows about the wink & the guns?

So for Lent I decided to give up being a bitch. For those of you who know me, this was not an easy task! And now I'm trying to just be a nicer person in general. So one day a week I do something to be helpful or just plain old kind. You people are lucky I do that much....

This morning, as I was pulling into my parking lot at work, I decided to let someone making a left go in front of me. I give the pleasant hand gesture, inviting her to go ahead in line.

And what response do I get? NOTHING. No wave, no head tilt, no lipped "thank you." Not even the finger. I would have settled for a wink and the guns. But instead, I got nothing. Not even eye contact.

Man, that just cheeses me off. Now, I have to follow this slut into the parking lot. I end up parking right next to her, and then I have to ride the short bus into the building with her. I was so tempted to say something. But I just sat there. Like a fool. Like a simple fool who tries to do something nice for someone and gets nothing.

But let me just say this - If I wasn't at work, and if I wasn't terrified of hitting my head on that damn tv monitor, I'd be all over that beyotch! And I could take her, too. She was little. I would have gone midieval on her ass! But that's for another time, another place....

Banana Hammock Pants

I'm driving home last night and I pass a local grade school. Out on the front lawn are some little boys playing soccer. I would have guessed they were maybe first or second grade. Very cute.

As I pass the school, I notice this older man lurking by the bushes. He had a bicycle, was wearing one of those funny looking helmets, and was sporting the banana hammock pants. I felt sick to my stomach when I saw him, because he looked suspiciously like a pedophile. Why was he over in the bushes? Why did he have this weird little smirk on his face? And why was his bike being held upright by his penis?!

He looked a little something like this guy:

http://www.pixyland.org/peterpan/

THAT IS WRONG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The Golden Rule

I'm sitting at my desk this morning and I overhear someone say, "Never assume anything - that's the golden rule." Really? Has the new pope already changed it? Because I always thought it was "Love your neighbor as yourself" (aka "Do unto others as you would have done to you").

Or perhaps, all these years I've been wrong. Who knew!

American Idol or American-Who-Gives-A-Rat's-Ass.... You decide, America!

So Anwar is gone. I think this is a big mistake. 'The White Kenny G,' as I like to call him, was dubbed "technically the best singer" by that crack-head Paula Abdul. Yes, she was high as a mo-fo when she said it, but there was still truth to her cocaine-induced ranting.
(PS: Paula, stop standing up and "dancing" during the songs. You are only embarrassing yourself, you fool!)

Anwar, it's a shame that you are gone. Though I'm sure your music students will be glad to have you back. Anwar was a great performer, a better singer than a lot of those No-Talent Ass Clowns still left in the competition, and an all-around good guy. That boy had a beautiful smile that would light up a room! He just seems like such a sweetie. I'm sorry to see you go. I love my friends of Dorothy!

Let's discuss the remaining contestants, shall we?

Anthony, you are an amazing person. What you overcame is unbelievable. You were told you may never speak again, and look how far you have come! You didn't even speak English, and now you are an American Idol contestant! Wow!! If this were "American Amazing Person," you would win - hands down! But Dude, your singing sucks. No way Anwar should be gone and you are still here. You need to be the next to go.

And speaking of who else should be gone, let's talk about Scott. If Anwar and Anthony have the best personalities, you have the worst. I have no use for "men" who beat up woman. You are a piece of shit and you have a shitty attitude. Be gone with you, you jagoff! Oh and sidebar, your pork-sausage-fingers make me sick.

Next we have Constantine. This guy makes me sick. I do not understand how women find these girly men so hot. HE LOOKS LIKE A WOMAN. He's got the long hair, the highlights, and the 26 inch waste. He is a girl. Sure he sports a little stubble every now and then. But so do a lot of other women. That's why we have Nair. I also cannot stand the way he "makes love" to the camera. We get it: You think you're hot. You fall under my category of "WHY." Included in this category are other guys that I just don't get why women think they are hot. Examples include Michael Jackson, Prince, Ryan Phillipe, David Bowie, and Ricky Martin. These men are all effeminate to me. I just don't get it. Any guy who spends more time on their hair and makeup than I do is just not doing it for me.

Okay, now let's move on to the girls. Vonzelle, you are okay in my book. I think you are just "aaaa-ight" (ala Randy). Although I did NOT dig the cowboy look you sported a while back. It was cute you gave props to your dad, who bought you the outfit, but it is obvious he has terrible taste in clothing. Just because someone buys you a gift, it does not mean you should debut it on national tv. Otherwise, you are cool. Your singing has gotten better, but I just don't think you are going to make it all the way. You're cute, but that will only get you so far.

And Carrie. Carrie, Carrie, Carrie. You come on the show pretending to be this dumb blonde farm girl who is so naive and innocent. Well, I don't buy it. I used to be a fan of yours. I thought you had the best voice, hands down. But now all of a sudden you've gone all glam, and I don't think you're as dumb as you pretend to be. I just don't buy it. In fact, I kind of think you are a bitch. I don't know why, but I just have this feeling. And, instead of singing, you now SCREAM every song. We get it, you can hit the big notes. But you have a microphone. WE CAN HEAR YOU. For the love of God, stop screaming.

And last but not least, we have Bo. Bo, I think you are a stand-up guy. You do not fit the "pop idol" mold and I give you credit for being an individual and staying cool. But are you really going to win this competition? I just don't know. Yeah, you have the sexy rocker thing going on, but you're still not American Idol material. You just don't fit. So don't be a sell-out, Dude. PLEASE!

Now you may be asking: what's the point of this ridiculously long blog? Well, I'll tell you. I'm not voting for any of these people. I just don't give a rat's ass. I'm so not into it this year.

Maybe I'm jealous. Maybe I'm pissed. When this thing started 4 years ago and I was 28, I was too old. Now that I'm almost 32, they raise the age to 28 and I'm still too old. That is total BS.

Am I a good singer? Well, does a bear poop in the woods? No seriously, do they poop there? According to the Charmin commercials, they even use TP! But I digress.

Back to my original question. My answer is this: hell no!! I'm not a good singer. I SUCK! But at least I could have tried out. I'll never know what I could have been. I could have been the next Wilma Hung....

Damn you American Idol! DAMN YOU!!!

"Sidebar: How Madonna Is This?"

Okay, anyone know where that quote came from? Bonus points if you do.

Here's my little sidebar for today: Over the weekend we were out of town visiting the in-laws. We stayed at the Super 8 in tropical Athens, Ohio. Not a bad place. Fairly clean.

As I was in the shower, the curtain kept clinging to my side. This is a very frustrating phenomenon. No matter what you do, you cannot get that mother effing thing to just stop sticking to you. Which brings me to my sidebar: How many other people have had this same exact shower curtain cling to their naked body parts? And, furthermore, why does it now burn when I urinate?

Mi Mama Esta Loca

So my mom is babysitting today. She usually watches our baby every Wednesday. Now, I realize it's been 31 years since she's had a baby of her own, but I cannot believe how often she calls me with weird little questions.

Take for instance the time she called me to ask if it was okay to use scented baby wipes. OH MY GOD, PLEASE TELL ME YOU DID NOT USE THE SCENTED BABY WIPES! THOSE CAN KILL HIM! I'm not sure what her concern was, but seeing as how I'm his mother and I'm not worried about it, I think it should be okay. Sheesh

So this morning I called her to check in. She said that he was making a weird face and it bothered her. She said it freaked her out so much that she put her hand over his face so that he would stop it. WHAT??? He's not Damian. He's a baby. He makes little faces where he looks at you sideways, sucks in his bottom lip, and pretends to be shy. It's cute, not scary, Mom.

She also reads waaaaay too many articles and watches too many Dateline specials and then calls me up and tells me these horrible stories about terrible unthinkable things that happen to other babies. Yeah, like I really need to be more freaked out than I already am. Thanks a lot, Mom.

I have told her over and over again that she is NOT allowed to read or watch tv, but this doesn't seem to listen. Stop freakin me out, woman!!

God, it's no wonder I have so many issues! Mi Mama esta loca!!!!

The Gunner, The Tapper, and The Over-Reactor

Our company has shuttle busses that take you from your parking lot to the actual place we work, which is a few short miles away. There are three drivers, in particular, who have such specific characteristics that I have accordingly assigned them the three names: The Gunner, The Tapper, and the Over-Reactor.

Let's start off with The Over-Reactor. Met him for the first time this week. Some of the newer busses have been equiped with the new pull-down flat screens that show company propaganda films. (To my boss: Actually, they're not that bad. I just put that in there for comic relief. Totally joking. I really quite enjoyed the film!)

Anyway, I sit down on the first open seat. I like to sit up front because 1) I'm one of the first ones to get off and 2) I get very car sick towards the back (see: The Tapper). So the bus comes up to my stop, and I rise out of my seat to exit the bus. Completely unaware of my surroundings and the new tv (that I just spent 10 minutes watching), I bang the shit out of my head on the screen. A loud bang ensues, followed by a collective "ooooohhhh" from the other passengers. Embarrassed, I yell: "I'm okay." At this point, I just wanted to get the hell off of that bus!

I'm out the doors and walking into the building when I hear, "Ma'am?! MA'AM!!!" Being that I'm only 31, I try not to respond to this ever. It makes me feel old, and when it comes from a man in his 50s, it makes me feel even worse. Nonetheless, I turn around and face the driver. I give him the 'You talkin to me' look. He says, "Could you please come back here and fill out an incident report? I really need you to write down what happened because you're not the first person to do this." I really did not want to do this. "I'm fine, really. It's not necessary" I say, through gritted teeth. I know the people on the bus are getting irritated, because now their entrance into the next building will be delayed while I fill out the stupid report.

I begrudgingly agree and fill out the stupid thing. Then, he hands me a brochure and says I have to call Transport and fill out yet another report. As if I'm not embarrassed enough! Fine. I agree to call the number and file another damn report. I did call Transport, who seemed a little irritated that I wasted their time, although I got the standard "thanks for calling" line at the end of the call.

For the above-mentioned reason, this bus driver will now only be known as The Over-Reactor.

Now let's move on the The Tapper. This woman gives new meaning to the term nausea. She does not drive the bus. No, she taps on the gas pedal repeatedly, causing it to jolt forward, slow down, jolt forward, slow down, etc, etc, etc. Not only am I ready to vomit upon exiting the bus, but I am also covered in my once full cup of coffee. She is by far the worst offender. Very nice lady. Just a horrible driver. I cringe when I see her pull up in the lot.

Our last driver is The Gunner. Younger guy who listens to "The Wave" a light-rock, muszac station that I'm pretty sure is not his choice. I peg him for hip-hop or reggae. Maybe even hard-core gansta rap. Cannot see him jammin to the musical version of "Fields of Gold" (by Sting) in his own vehicle. However, the dude totally jamms that shit. The volume is so high you can barely hear yourself think. Although it does cover up the loud bussy noises and that annoying woman in the back of the bus who has all the cutesy stories about her twins. Gag me. I have a child, too. And he's the most beautiful baby ever born and he does the most adorable things. But I don't force anyone within listening range to hear about him.

I digress. Okay, so let's get back to The Gunner. This guy loves to put the pedal to the metal, so to speak. He will ram his foot down on the gas and fly through the parking lot. Pedestrians, BEWARE! The Gunner will not stop for you, so get the eff out of his way!!

The funniest thing is that he is going through parking lots, on little side streets, and darting around construction sites. It's not like he's on the Indy 500. Although I think he is in training. He also refuses to pull up to the doors like the other drivers. With his 'screw you' attitude, he inevitably pulls up in front of a large puddle, a giant heaping pile of mud, or some other obstruction. It's really fun to maneuver your way out of his bus! Every day brings a new adventure.

Now, you're probably asking yourself why I don't just suck it up and hoof it. Well, my friends, the answer is simple: I'M LAZY. Plus, what would I blog about if I didn't have my gunner, my tapper, and my over-reactor? Life would be way too boring, and I am all about the drama! BRING IT!!!

Home Depot, You Evil Bastard!

For all those home owners out there, I'm sure you are very familiar with Home Depot, those evil bastards.

Well, over the weekend, my husband and I had to hang up some blinds. We get horrible sun glare in our front window, that interfers with tv viewing. This being our main past-time, something had to be done... and fast!

So we weighed the options and decided that vertical blinds were the least expensive way to go. Doug Wilson (of "Trading Spaces" and "Moving Up" fame) would be appauled to know that we did this. But I really don't give a shit.

Our window is 95 inches wide and 57 inches long. After much debate, my husband and I decided that we should have the blinds be 56 1/2" long so that they don't scrape on the window sill when we open/close them.

So John goes off to Home Depot. He also bought a Big Max, Jr. storage shed. "30 minutes to assemble" my @SS!! But I digress.

We go to hang up the blinds on Saturday night. I know, we're party ANIMALS! Me being the handy one, I pull out the drill and as soon as I get one rotation on the first screw, the effing thing dies. Trying to hand screw four nails into drywall is not easy. It's not fun. It sucks.

We finally get everything all assembled. We click the hanging apparatus into place. We wait 10 mins. It does not fall down, so we're feeling pretty confident.

Now comes the "easy" part. Attaching each vertical blind. I put the first one up, not really paying attention. After hanging the third one, I look down to see how close the blind comes to the window sill. Imagine my surprise when I see the enormous gap between the end of each blind and the sill. How much of a gap, you ask? FOUR INCHES

So I mention this to my husband. We measure the blind and confirm that it is, in fact, 4 inches short. John insists that he gave the proper measurment to the woman working at the Depot.
Then he says, "Well, we're putting the couch in front of it, so it doesn't really matter."

Yeah, and when the neighbors drive by and see our short blinds, I'm sure they won't mind the value of their houses going down... down... down thanks to Mr. & Mrs. Whitetrash next door.

I make him take back the blinds the next day to Home Depot. Of course, the woman insists that she measured them correctly. She says that they take into account the size of the hanging apparatus, and automatically deduct several inches. WTF?

My husband gets new blinds and then has to rent a Home Depot truck to bring home the Big Max, Jr. He purchased it the day before and hauled it to our new mini van (which we bought not only because of baby Jackson, but because we were tired of always borrowing my parents' SUV to lug home big purchases). Of course, the effing thing was too big for the van....

So, now we have to pay them $20 to drive their van less than 6 miles so that we can get this damn thing home. But, it does have leather seats, so it was worth the money. Yeah, right.

Anyway, we get the blinds hung up. Finally. Then we head outside to put together the BMJ. Yeah, that's lots of fun. Don't you just love the directions that have been translated from Japanese to Chines to Spanish to Arabic to French and then to English?? Somehow, and I'm not sure how, things get lost in the translation. We had to call my father over anyway to help out. And with 3 adults working on it, it took almost 3 hours. 3 HOURS OF MY LIFE I CAN NEVER GET BACK.

What person can do that in 30 minutes? Maybe the guy who wrote the instructions. Or perhaps the guy who wrote the instructions. Oh, I know, the guy that wrote the instructions might be able to...... ARGH!!!

"It's Frickin Freezing In Here, Mr. Bigglesworth"

So I moved down the hall to a new office space. I love my new place, I love my office partner. (Hey roomie!) My only gripe is with the vent that is directly over me. It blows freezing cold air on me all day. Today, in Sunny Cleveland, it's about 40 degrees outside. Yep, the a/c is really necessary....

Dunkin' Numnuts

So I pull into Dunkin' Numnuts this morning. As I do each morning before work. I'm not sure what the deal is, but every day I order the same cup of coffee, and every day it's a different price. And it doesn't necessarily depend on the person working there. But I have paid anywhere from 89 cents to $1.87 for a cup of coffee. I order the XL decaf with cream ONLY each day. What I get is anywhere from a small black coffee to an XL regular coffee with sugar. Now, I'm not sure of the exact skill level required to work at Dunkin Numnuts, but it appears that you must be at least mildly mentally challenged to work there.

Take, for example, what happened to John (my hubby) a few weeks back. He does not drink coffee, but he is a big donut fan. So usually on Saturday mornings he will go pick us up some donuts and get me a coffee. So, he orders at the giant sign and pulls around to the window. The genius behind the counter sets the coffee on the little shelf exactly between the sliding window panes. She takes his money, leaves the coffee, and goes to get donuts.

At this point, the windows close. HOWEVER, due to the fact that there is a giant coffee cup in the way, they are unable to fully close, and instead bang open and shut... open and shut... open and shut for several minutes while she is away. Of course, coffee is spewing forth everywhere, and the indestructible styrofoam is taking quite a beating.

When the girl comes back (with the wrong donuts, of course), she realizes her error. "Oops" is her response to the goings-on. Instead of throwing away said cup of coffee, she decides to try to "play it off" and hands the cup to my husband. Of course, it begins to crumble in his hand, and the top pops off. Again, coffee comes flowing out of the ruptured volcano that once was a cup, and it pours all over my husbands hands and onto the side of his car.

At this point in time, John has to point out the situation to the doe-eyed worker who, of course, panics, and leaves. Moments later, my husband - now a 3rd degree burn sufferer - is greeted by the Dunkin' Numnuts manager. She removes the cup from his hands and grabs a pile of napkins, proceeding to wipe off the driver's side door.

The manager hands the cup to the worker, and she brings my husband a "fresh" cup of coffee. He takes the cup in haste, along with the bag of donuts, and speeds off. When he arrives home, I go to grab my much-anticipated cup of coffee, and.... guess what? That dumb bitch reused the same cup! There was coffee everywhere.

Now, you may ask why I keep going back to Dunkin' Numnuts. My only explanation is that they put something in that coffee, man! It's addictive. I can't get enough. I loves me some java, Joe!

Plus, I enjoy the delicious irony of looking in my rear-view window as I pull away, and watching the cops drive up for their donut fixes.
Mmmmmm.... Bacon!

Lo Lo OUT