Father's Day #888

You know what makes a great Father's Day present??



Topless housekeeper.





See? You see what just happened here? You were focused on the word "topless". Try and focus on the word "housekeeper", like I do. That suddenly changes everything, huh?

I found a "housekeeper" on craigslist. I hired her to do light housekeeping. I was actually giddy at the thought of someone coming in and vacuuming, loading the dishwasher, and dusting. I don't care if she was half naked, or wearing a big pink bunny suit. (I think I have to pay extra for the bunny suit, BTW) Mr. Hummingbird thought it was weird.
Well, he thought it was weird until he was in front of the TV watching golf, drinking a beer, while a topless girl was vacuuming his living room. I was nice enough (and the housekeeper was nice enough) to let my brother in law sit on the couch next to him during the two hours she was at my house. BIL was not allowed to say a word, or the bouncer (she brought a bouncer) would throw him out. (I was praying that he would sneeze or something and get thrown out! And that I would have a camera ready for that.)
At that point, I think it suddenly got "awesome".

I was sitting in the back yard, on the daybed, with a margarita in one hand and a trashy novel in the other. It was the best money I've spent in a long time.

Think of me next year.

And.......you're welcome.

April Fools #503

I LOVE April Fool's day. I enjoy a good laugh, and most of the people I know have a really good sense of humor. Usually the target of my pranks is my poor husband.

A few years ago, I happen to be at my dollar store, when I saw a ridiculous huge pair of lacy underwear. They were apparently make to fit a baby elephant. For $1, I couldn't pass them up.
The night before, I snuck out of my house right after dark. Using some ribbon, I tied the ribbon to both sides of the jumbo panties. I tied it underneath my husband's car. They hung underneath his car bumper like some hedonistic country flag. The only problem was that they were too noticeable! I was worried that he may go to the trunk of his car for something, and immediately see the panties of doom. So, I crawled underneath the car, and lightly shoved the panties under his bumper. Just enough for them not to be seen, but enough that some time on the road would pop them out like some type of sick Jack-in-the-box.
The next morning, I was giddy. I tried to compose myself as much as possible. He left in a hurry, so I knew that he would be preoccupied. The best part of all? It was his day to drive the carpool to work!
Around lunchtime, I couldn't wait any longer. I called him at work. He doesn't mention it at all, no matter how many hints I drop. Finally, I can't take it any more, and ask how his drive was this morning. That's when I heard him pause, mid sentence.

"It was you!"

I started laughing. Turns out that the guys noticed it once they pulled into their work parking lot. It had been flapping in the breeze behind his car for 26 miles! My husband immediately suspected that it was a prank by his brother! (Double points for my prank getting blamed on someone else, BTW) His brother is a single guy, so no one was willing to actually touch the panties since they didn't know exactly where they were before being tied to the car. (Ewwwww......) One of his coworkers found a long stick in the lot, and they used that to bat at the pinata panties. Finally, they manage to separate them from the car.
Later that night, when the carpool came home, all the coworkers gave me a high five. They were still razzing my DH, so I just smiled sweetly and said, "wait till you see what I did to your car." (their cars were still parked on my street.) They all got serious and walked to their cars.

Triple bonus points because they each crawled underneath their cars just to find......... nothing.

Merry Christmas! #5,345

Last November, I received a link to a photo album from my knucklehead brother in law. He sent the link to all our family. It documented every single moment of his recent house warming party.

Every. Single. Moment.

Did I mention that the album consisted of 1,000 pictures??

1,000 pictures!

(I don't even want to look at 1,000 pictures of my own kids.) I put off looking at the pictures as long as possible. Eventually, I knew that I had to glance at them enough, in case someone asked me about them. As I'm speed reading through the album, I come to a complete stop. (somewhere around #675)

I spot a picture of my brother in law. In his underwear.

(Take a moment to drink in that image.)

I look at it again. Yup, that's my brother in law. In his underwear.
How is this possible?
Why did this happen?
And most importantly, what can I do with this???

Bwahahaha!

I decide to get in the holiday spirit, and make this picture my annual Christmas card.

Yes, I really did.

I go online, to visit my snarkiest internet friends and explain the situation. Then, I take suggestions. Each suggestion is funnier than the first. I giggle the entire time. Finally, we have a winner.

I decide against sending out the cards to everyone I know. (Yes, believe it or not, I do have a heart. It's black and charred and the size of a Chihuahua's head. Also, my husband talked me out of it. You know, he's my moral compass.) I print up one card, addressed to my brother in law. I add it to his xmas present.

Christmas day , the whole family is together. Kids are running around, uncles are drunk, aunts are cooking, grampas asleep.
The usual.
It's time for my brother in law to open his present.
He opens the card, and the color leaves his face.
Then it turns red.
THEN, HE LOOKS RIGHT AT ME!! (wth?)
I start to giggle.
He looks right at me, and flips me off.
(This makes me laugh more, for some strange reason.)
After the shock wears off, he begins to ask me questions.

"How did you get this picture?"

"When did you get on my computer?"

"When did you learn to hack??"

He was even more embarrassed once he learned that he was the one that sent out that picture in the first place. We continued to harass him the entire night. He actually thanked me later, once he realized that I could have really done some damaged with that picture. I guess I must be growing up. Maybe?

Maybe not. Here's the picture.
He doesn't really look like Burger King, but you know how the internet can get.

P.S. don't mess with me.

#561 Creative Advertising

One hot summer day, we (mostly me, not so much on my husband.) decided that we needed to clear out the garage. Like everyone else in our generation, we've begun to accumulate more than our share of "stuff". As we weeded through our piles, it was obvious that we had to get rid of some stuff.
One particular item was my husband's old surfboards. He's up to four boards now, which of course, I think is three too many. We compromise, and he gives up the two oldest ones.
I place an ad on Craigs List. (We were hoping to get at least $75 bucks for each board.) A concise precise ad listing all the specs and info on each board.
And wait.
And wait.
And wait.
I put a few more ads in different local surfing newsletters.
Not one inquiry. After a few weeks, I delete all the ads.

Just as Mr. hummingbird actually starts to believe that he will be keeping his surfboards after all, I hit upon an idea.

Divorce Sale- Must sell two used surfboards. Tired of seeing them in my garage and ex husband will not pick them up. Make me an offer.

Signed,
One Angry Wife.




I had 6 emails waiting for me that evening. One guy even wrote, "You know what would make him really really mad? If you gave them away instead of selling them." He made me laugh. (I'm also filing away that suggestion for the future.) I make arrangements to meet a guy at the local grocery store parking lot. I invite a (male) friend with me. (who, also had a board he wanted to sell.) The sale went pretty quick, since each time the buyer would ask me a question, I just answered with "I have no idea" adding a shrug and making my eyes look as big and innocent as possible. The buyer would just shake his head, muttering "women...."







I got $225 for both boards.

#386 Corporate Step Ladder

In my early 20's, I decided to "take a break" from college. (besides being on academic probation, you know?) I took a full time job in an office. This was my first introduction to life in a cubicle.

It was a small company, so everyone worked handling the phone calls, but also had other assigned tasks. As everything else in life, the newbies gets the shaft. (Thank you sir, may I have another??)

One of my first assignments, dealt with shipping and receiving. Since this company sold "stuff", we also shipped and received this "stuff". (<---BTW, this is not code for drugs.) Every shipper had a different way of handling the paperwork. Every shipper had a different set of acronyms and forms numbers. When stuff came in, the warehouse guys would just rip some paperwork off the cartons, crumple it up, sweat on it, maybe drop it on the floor in the men's room and then hand it to me. It was a bloody nightmare. I would sit there for hours trying to figure out what each mysterious piece of paper represented. (Hours!) What made the job harder, was this was all basically learn as you go. The previous person(jackass) who had this job left no instructions. (as did the person before that, and before that, and so on, and so on. Just like that shampoo commercial.) So, it was me making the same mistakes they made, while trying to correct the mistakes that they left for me. Well, as you can imagine, it was hard work, but I managed to get it under control. AND because I'm smarter-than-the-average-bear, I started keeping a log of what I did, when I did it, and why. My log eventually grew into brief explanations of acronyms, shipping terms, contact names, and everything else. Pretty soon, I had an SOP book (standard operating procedure) on my hands. I carefully labeled everything, and put it in a nice (sensible) three ring binder. It became my bible. Pretty soon, this part of the job became a breeze.

Months later, this little worker bee starts to move up the corporate ladder. I get a (small) promotion and (really really small) raise. As part of this, I also get assigned new and exciting assignments. (yay!) I hand off my piles of papers to the next newbie in line. And since I no longer needed it, I gave her my binder. I will soon learn a very important lesson.

What should have been an easy job for her, (since I had everything already written down) turned out to be a lot of work for me. I guess that she found it easier to just ask me all her questions. All day long.
Over and over again.
I had my own work to do.
So my "promotion" was just me doing two jobs instead of one.
Nice.

Something interesting started to happen. Newbie suddenly had all this free time on her hands. She spent most of it, hanging around the office, flirting with everyone she could. Newbie also went around bragging about how "easy" her new duties were. Best of all, during her review, Newbie asked for a raise because she had "re-organized everything to a more streamlined system."
Uh, huh.
The last straw came when Newbie started to bad mouth my work. What started off as "oh, look at what I great job I'm doing," soon became, "Oh, I hope I can find a way to fix everyone else's incompetent mistakes and still do a bang up job." It got old quick.
Finally, I found a quick and quiet solution. One day, I found myself alone with my old friend, the binder. I knew that I couldn't walk out with it, let alone let it be seen in my hands. I quietly found a padded envelope, stuck the binder inside, and labeled the outside. Added stamps, and waved goodbye.
The binder found it's way to some random address.

In Egypt.



Newbie did have the gall to ask me if I knew where "her" binder was. I smiled, and said, "what binder?"

Let Them Eat Cake #759

Years ago, I used to work in a bank. It was so long ago, that it was before the Internet. So, your two banking choices were to either go into a bank for your transactions or call your bank. I worked in a call center. (Before they all moved overseas.) As I've mentioned several times before, I am a bitch in real life. (I'm okay with that. :) ) So, working in the call center was utter hell for someone like me.

From 8 am to 5 pm, I was stuck in my little cubicle answering phone calls. As you can imagine, I probably needed to work on my "people skills". There were 14 women, and one lone man stuff into a too small room with a overbearing manager. You can just see the drama in this situation. (actually, this is really were I honed my skills. I guess I should probably send them a thank-you card.) It lead to many, many interesting situations, that I'm sure that I will share later.

After two years of suffering, I accidentally fell into another job.
A GREAT job.
A secure job.
Quite possibly a dream job.
And best of all, it paid at least double of what I was currently making at the time. I quickly cemented myself into my new job, and soon after gave notice at the call center. As the custom, I worked for two more weeks before I started my new job. Since I was fairly young and dumb, I probably shared my good news just a little bit too much. I answered every one's questions. I invited people to come visit me in my new office. I even told some people, that once I got settled, I would try to get them a similar job at the new place. I shared, shared, and shared.

My last day at the bank, I was practically walking on air. I don't think that I completed one task, all day long. (my last day. Why should I?) After lunch, I was told that I needed to go to the employee's lunch room, to "fill out some paperwork." (<----Does anyone actually fall for that??) So, I arrive in the room, and most of the office is there. (probably not to see me off, but more than likely for the cake.) I say goodbye to most of them, and promise to come back and tell everyone every single detail of my new, fabulous, and well paying job. Pretty soon, it's cake time. I head over for a piece. I glance at the white cake, and read the frosting:




So long.....Bitch.




REALLY!


Now, I know what you're thinking.
I should have been mad.
I should have been hurt.
I should have been embarrassed.

I was none of those.
I reached over, cut out the word "Bitch" and proceeded to stuff my face with it.

It was delicious.

I really, really wish I had a picture of it, but it was way before camera phones.
But I will settle for a fond memory instead.

#347 Disorderly Conduct

Remember Y2K? Remember how planes were supposed to fall out of the sky?
ATMs were going to vomit money? Credit cards were suppose to cancel and clear all debt? Well, my friends and I figured that we would go out in style.



Vegas Style.



The plan was successful, that is, until I landed myself in the Clark County jail.



I was busted for crossing some barricades. (Phony thrumped up charges, if you ask me.) We were on the famous strip. The street had been closed down, to handle the plethora of drunk people. My friends were on one side of the street, and I was on the other. The PoPo had just closed down the street, and were herding people back into the hotels. I figured that with my cat-like-reflexes, I could climb the barricades, cross the street, and join my friends before any of the PoPo would see me.



Genius, pure genius.




Did I mention that I was drunker than drunk?




Did I mention that I was wearing a blue wig??




So, I scramble up the barricade, wearing a mini skirt, fall over the other side in a heap of blue wig. I get to my feet, and swagger across the street. I'm almost there, and my friends start to hoot and holla', calling attention to my lawbreakin'. I'm almost there, when I get clotheslined by a female cop. I'm thinking that I can still get away, (natch) so I start to wrestle her to the ground. (Not a good idea, BTW) We roll around a bit, then some more officers head over to help. I lost count after four of Nevada's finest joined us.

I get arrested for public intoxication, resisting arrest, and destroying public property. (all the charges except the public intoxication get dropped) They should have added public indecency because by this time my skirt was around my neck. I paid a fine about $200 and that's about it. But, yeah, I would pay anything to see that mugshot. I'm guessing it looks something like this:



Just smear the lipstick, make the mascara run, and askew the wig some. Maybe add some dried snot on my face.



Happy New Years!