Sometimes all you need is a good joke to chuckle about. I hit this one today and it cracked my ass up! Just in time, too. I needed an attitude adjustment!
A family is driving behind a garbage truck when a dildo flies out and thumps against the windscreen.
Embarrassed, and to spare her young son's innocence, the mother turns around and says, "Don't worry, that was an insect."
To which, her son replies, "I'm surprised it could get off the ground with a huge dick like that."
Friday, September 30, 2011
Thursday, September 22, 2011
Last week was Bonus Week for me. What made it special?
It wasn't a day off for the elusive three day weekend.
None of my kids got a full ride scholarship.
I didn't win the lottery.
The LPGA was in town for the Navistar Classic, and as part of the sponsorship, the company I work for has a Inside the Ropes contest. Their charity this year is Wounded Warriors.
I picked the winner Friday. A true God-wink happened. The woman who won asked if it was okay to let her husband and daughter have the prize of walking with the LPGA ladies around the course on the final day. You see, her husband was wounded in Iraq in 2003. Choked me up and made my heart swell. (yes, even my stone cold heart can melt a little)
On Sunday, I saw my winners on ESPN walking with golfer Jennifer Johnson. Loved it! Jennifer is pretty special too. Here is her video on Wounded Warriors.
There is irony here or luck - From more than 100 hometown folks around Prattville Alabama, our winner was a wounded warrior, one of my favorite heros in our country. Not the high dollar athlete or superstar movie icon, but a military man who was willing to give his life for our freedom.
It wasn't a day off for the elusive three day weekend.
None of my kids got a full ride scholarship.
I didn't win the lottery.
The LPGA was in town for the Navistar Classic, and as part of the sponsorship, the company I work for has a Inside the Ropes contest. Their charity this year is Wounded Warriors.
I picked the winner Friday. A true God-wink happened. The woman who won asked if it was okay to let her husband and daughter have the prize of walking with the LPGA ladies around the course on the final day. You see, her husband was wounded in Iraq in 2003. Choked me up and made my heart swell. (yes, even my stone cold heart can melt a little)
On Sunday, I saw my winners on ESPN walking with golfer Jennifer Johnson. Loved it! Jennifer is pretty special too. Here is her video on Wounded Warriors.
There is irony here or luck - From more than 100 hometown folks around Prattville Alabama, our winner was a wounded warrior, one of my favorite heros in our country. Not the high dollar athlete or superstar movie icon, but a military man who was willing to give his life for our freedom.
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
Suspicious Mini-van Moms Found Loitering
I'm social. You can't tell by the huge numbers of followers I have for this blog or the other two. But I swear on all that is Holy, I am.
I've always liked rummaging around at yard sales, poking my nose into other peoples crap. You never know what might be lovingly displayed on a chunk of plywood and sawhorses on any given Saturday.
But, times, they are a changing.
Lately I've been "Facebook shopping" garage sale items. A friend started a online yard sale group. Several friends are moderators on it. This monster took off. In 24 hours there were 500+ members. And in the past four weeks, we split the group to a kids & baby group with 959 members and regular yard sale group with 1469 members.
Pretty handy for researching items online too! For instance - someone selling a laptop for $1,000. That's right, a cool grand for a laptop on a Facebook yard sale group. I know, WTF? Made it real easy to pull up the brand/model on a few different sites and determine the laptop seller bumped her head hard. I mean, throw in $150 more and you get newer, bigger and warranty!
So, I will now garage sale whenever I feel like it. And selling is easy, too. Just post a pic, price, details and contact info. Then find a meeting place to "make the drop." I say that with humor as I'm sure local authorities are wondering why women all over the area are suddenly loitering in parking lots and exchanging a bag of some sort of substance for cash.
So if you like yard sales and living on the edge, find a yard sale group, make a purchase and go find a parking lot to hang out in.
I've always liked rummaging around at yard sales, poking my nose into other peoples crap. You never know what might be lovingly displayed on a chunk of plywood and sawhorses on any given Saturday.
But, times, they are a changing.
Lately I've been "Facebook shopping" garage sale items. A friend started a online yard sale group. Several friends are moderators on it. This monster took off. In 24 hours there were 500+ members. And in the past four weeks, we split the group to a kids & baby group with 959 members and regular yard sale group with 1469 members.
Pretty handy for researching items online too! For instance - someone selling a laptop for $1,000. That's right, a cool grand for a laptop on a Facebook yard sale group. I know, WTF? Made it real easy to pull up the brand/model on a few different sites and determine the laptop seller bumped her head hard. I mean, throw in $150 more and you get newer, bigger and warranty!
So, I will now garage sale whenever I feel like it. And selling is easy, too. Just post a pic, price, details and contact info. Then find a meeting place to "make the drop." I say that with humor as I'm sure local authorities are wondering why women all over the area are suddenly loitering in parking lots and exchanging a bag of some sort of substance for cash.
So if you like yard sales and living on the edge, find a yard sale group, make a purchase and go find a parking lot to hang out in.
Friday, September 9, 2011
A Shit Storm About Death
So after that last "oh so cruel" post regarding the letter and the death of my sperm doner, there came a shit storm. A storm so strong, and ridiculous all due to death.
Ever notice how death brings out the worst in some people? It can tear a whole God fearing family apart. It starts with the deathwatch, when you notice a sibling eyeing everything in the house. Then subtle hints of "what will we do with this diamond necklace?" or "I've always loved that chair.
Then with the final breath of your loved one, the caring and nuturing sweet people who have stood by your side in tears turn into freaks off a Jerry Springer episode. There is screaming and acquisations, bitter attitudes and a sense of greed. Possessions start to disappear from the deceased persons house. Important papers mysteriously vanish. And so much suspicion!
Some say there is no good that comes from a death. When my mom passed, there was no fighting. In fact, my dad is still having a hard time getting us to take anything, and she died 10 years ago. We grew closer as a family then we ever have been.
The irony to this - my dear mother who did her best to cause strife between us while she was living, brought us together inspite of all her actions for so many years of her life.
Love your family and your friends. Don't linger overly much on material possessions.
Ever notice how death brings out the worst in some people? It can tear a whole God fearing family apart. It starts with the deathwatch, when you notice a sibling eyeing everything in the house. Then subtle hints of "what will we do with this diamond necklace?" or "I've always loved that chair.
Then with the final breath of your loved one, the caring and nuturing sweet people who have stood by your side in tears turn into freaks off a Jerry Springer episode. There is screaming and acquisations, bitter attitudes and a sense of greed. Possessions start to disappear from the deceased persons house. Important papers mysteriously vanish. And so much suspicion!
Some say there is no good that comes from a death. When my mom passed, there was no fighting. In fact, my dad is still having a hard time getting us to take anything, and she died 10 years ago. We grew closer as a family then we ever have been.
The irony to this - my dear mother who did her best to cause strife between us while she was living, brought us together inspite of all her actions for so many years of her life.
Love your family and your friends. Don't linger overly much on material possessions.
Friday, May 14, 2010
An open letter . . .
An open letter to my father’s widow:
The man you knew and loved is a different man than we, his children, remember. We don’t remember happy times spent with him. What we do remember:
We remember one or two car rides. It was a white car, and he always drove fast.
We remember watching it drive away shortly after we got into it. We spent lots of time with Grandma and Grandpa Nyberg in the big white house playing with the Cinderella carriage in the room with so many windows looking over the street.
We remember days at a small trailer with a mother who was always tired from working.
We remember weekend mornings at Grandma King’s house. She would get a pad of paper and a pen, and take our orders for breakfast. And she would REALLY make three different things for breakfast.
We remember Christmas with Grandpa and Grandma Nyberg. All dressed up in matching dresses and a suit for Robbie which Grandma Nyberg took us to the store to buy.
We remember Robbie getting a fancy racetrack for Christmas.
We remember sitting at the soda fountain at Grandpa Nybergs' Rexall drugstore. Wondering at the marvels of how that sweet tasting soda was mixed together, and digging a straw out of a vintage straw holder to put in our fashionable soda glass. And grandpa gave us all the cherries we wanted in our drinks.
We remember Debbie Koski, and her brother Jan. She was our babysitter when we lived in Michigan. Sometimes, I remember her more than my own mother. Debbie would pin-curl Virginia Koski’s hair, (her mom), while she cooked grilled cheese and soup for us eat.
We remember Grandma Nyberg taking us to the cottage at Indian Lake, where Becky and I slept in a room with pictures of Pinkie and Little Boy Blue hanging over our heads.
We remember vacation bible school classes at a big building on Indian Lake, where we made arts and crafts, and swam. Grandma proudly hung my driftwood mobile from the eave of the cottage cause something that pretty had to be shared with whom ever came to visit.
We remember the green canoe, by the dock, and Grandpa Nyberg, taking us for an afternoon ride on the smooth waters of Indian Lake while the sun set.
And we remember getting back in that white car so we could go home to mom, and later to mom and our new dad, and everything that was familiar to us.
And as the years rolled along, there were opportunities missed by a man who would 40 years later, want to reconnect with us. A man who waited until he was dying to decide to we were important enough to call. A man who really never asked how we were, or how our children were, but instead, told us about how great his life was. This man never celebrated his life with us; so with his passing, it’s really hard to want to mourn for him. We have few memories of him.
Some memories not mentioned, though painful for us, are not to be shared with you. You loved him. It is my respect for you as his wife, to not leave you with any bad memories of the man you loved.
He was lucky to have found someone who loved him as you obviously did. Please, try not to be bitter towards us. We understand your pain. However, he shared so very little of his life with us, that we want nothing of this man to remember him by. And we will leave you cherish your good memories of the man who claimed to be our father.
The man you knew and loved is a different man than we, his children, remember. We don’t remember happy times spent with him. What we do remember:
We remember one or two car rides. It was a white car, and he always drove fast.
We remember watching it drive away shortly after we got into it. We spent lots of time with Grandma and Grandpa Nyberg in the big white house playing with the Cinderella carriage in the room with so many windows looking over the street.
We remember days at a small trailer with a mother who was always tired from working.
We remember weekend mornings at Grandma King’s house. She would get a pad of paper and a pen, and take our orders for breakfast. And she would REALLY make three different things for breakfast.
We remember Christmas with Grandpa and Grandma Nyberg. All dressed up in matching dresses and a suit for Robbie which Grandma Nyberg took us to the store to buy.
We remember Robbie getting a fancy racetrack for Christmas.
We remember sitting at the soda fountain at Grandpa Nybergs' Rexall drugstore. Wondering at the marvels of how that sweet tasting soda was mixed together, and digging a straw out of a vintage straw holder to put in our fashionable soda glass. And grandpa gave us all the cherries we wanted in our drinks.
We remember Debbie Koski, and her brother Jan. She was our babysitter when we lived in Michigan. Sometimes, I remember her more than my own mother. Debbie would pin-curl Virginia Koski’s hair, (her mom), while she cooked grilled cheese and soup for us eat.
We remember Grandma Nyberg taking us to the cottage at Indian Lake, where Becky and I slept in a room with pictures of Pinkie and Little Boy Blue hanging over our heads.
We remember vacation bible school classes at a big building on Indian Lake, where we made arts and crafts, and swam. Grandma proudly hung my driftwood mobile from the eave of the cottage cause something that pretty had to be shared with whom ever came to visit.
We remember the green canoe, by the dock, and Grandpa Nyberg, taking us for an afternoon ride on the smooth waters of Indian Lake while the sun set.
And we remember getting back in that white car so we could go home to mom, and later to mom and our new dad, and everything that was familiar to us.
And as the years rolled along, there were opportunities missed by a man who would 40 years later, want to reconnect with us. A man who waited until he was dying to decide to we were important enough to call. A man who really never asked how we were, or how our children were, but instead, told us about how great his life was. This man never celebrated his life with us; so with his passing, it’s really hard to want to mourn for him. We have few memories of him.
Some memories not mentioned, though painful for us, are not to be shared with you. You loved him. It is my respect for you as his wife, to not leave you with any bad memories of the man you loved.
He was lucky to have found someone who loved him as you obviously did. Please, try not to be bitter towards us. We understand your pain. However, he shared so very little of his life with us, that we want nothing of this man to remember him by. And we will leave you cherish your good memories of the man who claimed to be our father.
Friday, March 26, 2010
What not to do or say when you start a new job!
In my mind, when I started this, I thought it would be easy to keep up. Kudos to the bloggers I follow who post regularly. Daily. Even several times a day!
Hats off to your time management, folks. My time is spent knocking out that "real job" stuff, kids, dinner, dishes, laundry, home repair. Shit, I can't even blame it on a man taking up all my extra time. Maybe its Mafia Wars, I don't know. But I will work on it, and hopefully manage my time better so I don't suck so badly at blogging.
But here is a tidbit of irony I'm compelled to share:
For my job, I get the chance to train new sales staff on marketing tools to help them be successful. Our newest hire, KI, happens to be about my age. The credit for this irony all goes to her.
1. First meeting with her was during the interview process - prospective sales reps do a presentation. Some folks interview really well, but fold into the fetal position, murmuring incoherently when in front of a customer. So a bit of roll play is involved. KI was good and all business, however, she never tried to close, never asked for the sale. When questioned about it, KI responded "I didn't understand the instructions." This was a red flag to me, but a power greater deemed it no problem. Really? Really?!?
She wants to be a sales person, but doesn't ask for the sale?
She didn't understand, but didn't ask for clarification either.
And still gets the job. Umm, ok! Hour wasted, decision made. Lets move on.
2. I set up training with KI at a time CONVENIENT to her. She missed the meeting. Called, 20 min late. Can't make it.
Wonder how this would work with Mr. or Ms. Customer? Personally, I would be pissed.
3. Rescheduled training - AKA Strike Three. KI shows up and the first words out of her mouth took me be surprise, I shit you not!
Verbatim - "I want you know I have an IQ of 169." (pause for effect)
So why are you here working for base + commission, Einstein? And then KI does a name dropping spree similar to a B-rated porn star trying to break into the Oscars. Suddenly, she knows everyone who is anyone.
I allotted one hour for training. Should have been two. She was so busy trying to make it a social hour, I almost snapped. I found out about her overnight house guest; all the highly esteemed business people she knows (again); the little country dive she likes to eat at; the highly esteemed business people she knows (AGAIN!) I took a chance and ask why she wanted this job. "I was bored." Really?
My assessment of KI to date:
Cognitive skills - suck
Problem solving - suck
People skills - suck
Time management - suck
Name dropping - awesome. Now turn those "relationships" to revenue and I'll change the suck status on the prior four to something nicer.
Besides, my assessment of me keeping up with a blog - sucks. But I can change that!
Hats off to your time management, folks. My time is spent knocking out that "real job" stuff, kids, dinner, dishes, laundry, home repair. Shit, I can't even blame it on a man taking up all my extra time. Maybe its Mafia Wars, I don't know. But I will work on it, and hopefully manage my time better so I don't suck so badly at blogging.
But here is a tidbit of irony I'm compelled to share:
For my job, I get the chance to train new sales staff on marketing tools to help them be successful. Our newest hire, KI, happens to be about my age. The credit for this irony all goes to her.
1. First meeting with her was during the interview process - prospective sales reps do a presentation. Some folks interview really well, but fold into the fetal position, murmuring incoherently when in front of a customer. So a bit of roll play is involved. KI was good and all business, however, she never tried to close, never asked for the sale. When questioned about it, KI responded "I didn't understand the instructions." This was a red flag to me, but a power greater deemed it no problem. Really? Really?!?
She wants to be a sales person, but doesn't ask for the sale?
She didn't understand, but didn't ask for clarification either.
And still gets the job. Umm, ok! Hour wasted, decision made. Lets move on.
2. I set up training with KI at a time CONVENIENT to her. She missed the meeting. Called, 20 min late. Can't make it.
Wonder how this would work with Mr. or Ms. Customer? Personally, I would be pissed.
3. Rescheduled training - AKA Strike Three. KI shows up and the first words out of her mouth took me be surprise, I shit you not!
Verbatim - "I want you know I have an IQ of 169." (pause for effect)
So why are you here working for base + commission, Einstein? And then KI does a name dropping spree similar to a B-rated porn star trying to break into the Oscars. Suddenly, she knows everyone who is anyone.
I allotted one hour for training. Should have been two. She was so busy trying to make it a social hour, I almost snapped. I found out about her overnight house guest; all the highly esteemed business people she knows (again); the little country dive she likes to eat at; the highly esteemed business people she knows (AGAIN!) I took a chance and ask why she wanted this job. "I was bored." Really?
My assessment of KI to date:
Cognitive skills - suck
Problem solving - suck
People skills - suck
Time management - suck
Name dropping - awesome. Now turn those "relationships" to revenue and I'll change the suck status on the prior four to something nicer.
Besides, my assessment of me keeping up with a blog - sucks. But I can change that!
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