I Can't Jump Rope!

I know what you're thinking, why on earth would a 50 year old woman even WANT to jump rope? Fair question, it does boggle the mind a bit. But I found myself still looking for something to do after a quick workout this morning and saw the jump rope just sitting there taunting me. I knew I could DO it, it just wouldn't be pretty.
Well, it wasn't! I promise to never do it again. Things were just a' jigglin. Sad day.

The U-Haul Experience

Ah the fragrance, the amibiance, the purr of the motor, the hum of the radio...
yeah not in the piece we rented to move the "Shley of the A" and "the Moose" to their new digs. (That would be Ashley and James for those out of the loop)
The U-Haul's odor was especially ripe, a mixture of oh say, wet dog and a$$. Trully unforgettable I must say. The ambiance...just foul, filth and fungus.
I love that you have to sign your life away to rent one of these heaps, agreeing to return it clean, (ha!) and undented, (there was scarcely an inch of undented exterior). I almost felt sorry for the poor engine as it panted and sputtered, it was sufferin' I tell you! The steering wheel had a lovely squeel to it each and everytime it turned aaaannnndddd the radio was broken! (This was a sad day for us as we sat in the cab, Jim, Haley and I, DESPERATELY wanting some lively Mexican polka music to accompany our ride.)
But we survived and now James and Ashley are living in a really nice apartment overlooking the gorgeous Oregon treeline. It really is beautiful!
No more smelly, scary elevator! (First time I rode the thing alone, I couldn't figure out how to open the door. Scared the crap out of me!)
No more urinating homeless guys, or good grief, homeless wanking guys peeking in a window, (just heard that fun story today)... No more having to call the cops every few nights 'cause some poor slob was getting the holy tar beat out of him.
Good times, good times.

A Cheap Blog I Know But...

This is so worth it! Make sure you let it load completely and have your sound up. This sh#t is classic, some amazing stuff right here. ENJOY!

http://www.bravia-advert.com/paint/thead/

What, oh my gawd, did you hear that?

Oh no, I have one..., You should see her motions..., Ha,Ha, another dollar, ha!..., Here's a lottery ticket..., you could buy porn..., I got like 20 dollars to Jamba..., thank you..., Jamba..., thank you..., you look so tan..., you look so tan, like I hate her..., I hate her sooo much, she's like so strange, like nothing better, like obvious, like she is so..., who?... I've never been attracted to him..., Oh my gawd, did you hear that..., I love this song...
Honest to God, I sit here listening to the ramblings of the Haleyettes and it amazes me. There are only 6 or 7 girls here for the "Hopper's (aka Haley) B-day Party" and the conversation hasn't had a nansecond break. Not one!
I'm tired just listening to it! God Bless the teens, they have more to say in a few minutes than I have in hours, nay make that years!

Words that mean "barf" or "50 Ways to Leave Your Lunch"

God is good! He let me make it through my mind-numbing, exhausting, but "oh so wonderful" Women's Retreat over the weekend and the crazy BSF Tuesday and Wednesday (Bible Study Fellowship, for the heathens in the group) until the "cruds" hit poor little sick me.
It started with a general," gaaaahh" feeling yesterday morning, then progressed to a "better keep a large platic baggie in my purse, gonna puke anytime" kind of day. I ended with a killer sore throat, you know "the lumpy vs scratchy"kind, (tee, hee, it sounds like The Simpsons!)
But for those of you fretting and stewing, I am feeling better so far this a.m. The throat is still sore, and I'm a bit gaggy feeling, but I don't feel as though I might hurl anytime soon.
Which brings me to the many different names for "barf". Besides the afore mentioned "hurl", I can come up with a few. My challenge to you fellow bloggers is, let's see if we can find "50 Ways to Leave Your Lunch".
So far we have; barf, hurl, puke, leave your lunch. I add; regurgitate, vomit (a classic), ralph, spew, toss your cookies, up-chuck, (and some new ones for you...) review your meal and the re-incarnation of food. That's 12 so far. Let the games begin...

When did racing cars on Shute Road become okay?

Good gravy! I'm driving home from yet another softball game, (Haley may have broken her hand, more to follow) and minding my own business, driving one of my favorite patches of road along the airport on Shute. You know, the nice windy road where driving at the speed limit feels a "tad" fast! (((yesh)))
Suddenly my "happy place" was disturbed by the o-so-familiar sound of vvrrroooommm, vvrroooommm. Some Jacka$$, weaving in and out of traffic with some other bonehead right on his tail! I kid you not they were going 65mph or more in a 45mph, which I've already said feels "nicely" fast already.
Now the speed was not the reason I wanted them to plow into a lightpole and exit this earth like the bad guys in "Ghost", screaming and flailing about as the demons drag them under, it was the way they were driving.
With complete disregard for the folks inches away from them.
I can tell you, I did my utmost to slow them down, (((rubbing hands))). I really got one of them too! I slowed WAY down, like to, oh... 15! Pissed that rat-bastard off, but good. Alas, he was determined, and snuck around me disappearing around a corner. I was livid I tell you.
But then, I see flashing lights! My heart lept! It freaking LEPT!
Okay back to the real world... of course it wasn't either of the a-holes pulled over, it was some poor soccer mom. Groan.
Oh well, I can dream...