Archive for August, 2006
August 30, 2006
What’s a trip to Burger King without a fooked up order? And some moronic staff to go with it? Nothing baby, nothing.
I took my oldest son and his gf to Wally World last night to do some shopping and on the way home we stopped at BK to bring home some grub for ourselves and hubby. We placed our orders, waited, and left without incident. Or so I thought.
We get home and as I’m taking things out of the bag, my husband says his order is wrong.
What’s wrong with it?
Well the poutine has no gravy on it.
No gravy?
Ya, no gravy.
Well that sucks. I’m going to call them and let them know.
Tell them to deliver some gravy to me.
I’m pretty sure they won’t do that.
Oh and my burger is wrong.
Figures.
I called and the phone rang about 15 times and noone answered it. I hung up. Waited a few minutes and called back. Again noone picked up but this time there was voicemail, so I left a message and asked if the manager could call me back in the morning. Left my name and phone number obviously.
The phone rangs this morning at 8:30. Goes like this:
Hello?
Hi, I calling from Burger King. I got your message. I’m looking for Iman.
Iman? I’m pretty sure I’m not a tall, gorgeous, black super model married to David Bowie.
Yes.
Ummm, well I was the one who called you last night and left the message. I’m Lechelle. Because Iman and Lechelle practically rhyme.
Oh okay. What the problem?
My order was messed up. I ordered poutine and there was no gravy on it. Gravy is a key ingredient to poutine.
You order special?
Pardon? Special?
Yes, special.
No, I just ordered a Whopper meal, with poutine. Nothing special really.
Okay what was wrong?
It. had. no. gravy. on. it.
Okay, that it?
No, my husband’s burger was supposed to be a Whopper, with cheese, only lettuce and onions. It had all the other stuff on it.
What stuff? The special?
I’m not sure what ‘the special’ is. It wasn’t anything special. Just a Whopper with only lettuce and onions.
Okay and what was wrong?
It had everything on it. Didn’t I just frigging say that?
Okay, what wrong? What’s wrong? Apparently you have the mental capacity of a stale donut.
I ordered poutine. It had no gravy on it. I ordered a Whopper with only lettuce and onions and it had everything on it. I didn’t want everything on it. I’m being Punk’d right?
You have your receipt?
Yes I sure do!
You want to come in now?
At 8:30 in the morning? Ummm no. I ate BK less than 12 hours ago, so I’m good thanks. But next time I do want BK, I’m going to bring my receipt and I want a free meal.
Okay, I give you free meal. Damn freakin’ right you will.
So your name is Iman? I write that down.
Yup, sure Iman. You spell that L-E-C-H-E-L-L-E. Forget anything you may have learned in phonics, phonics sucks and doesn’t work.
Okay, you come in with receipt and I give you free. I’ll give you free, a free punch in the ass.
Great.
Posted by Sassy @
2:35 pm •
Uncategorized •
August 26, 2006
……well not me per say but my hair. Okay, not so much flat as straight. I was finally able to purchase my Chi flat iron on Thursday and I’m in love. In love with my iron, my hair, myself. It’s all about me today and my long, straight hair. If you click my profile pic, that’s what my hair looks like straight. And I’m demanding that you click it because as I just mentioned, it’s all about me. *Insert big toothy grin*
I do have to say, since we’re talking about me today, that I am fairly intelligent. Sure, I have my ‘Jessica Simpson’ moments, as my teens so lovingly tell me, but overall, I’m decent in the brain area. As I was looking over the instructions for my flat iron, it occurred to me that the person/persons responsible for writing them, must have decided that they would include things, that if by chance, a retarded monkey bought the iron, they’d know what to do or not do.
And what do I mean? Well, for instance, they instruct me not to put the hot flat iron on my skin or in my eyes. Gosh, now that just ruins my Saturday night plans. Asswipes. I so wanted to give myself third degree burns and maybe even pop my eyeballs out with the hot iron. So much for that.
It also states, that I shouldn’t give it to my child when it’s heated up to 5000 degrees. No? Really? That seems a bit excessive. I mean come on, if my young child wants to hold mommy’s scalding hot, give you 200 degree burns flat iron, they should be allowed. I say go for it.
I should also not use it while sleeping. That’s a typo right? Honey, don’t mind my flat iron in between us in the bed, but I was going to get into a deep, relaxing sleep and then flat iron my hair so I won’t have to do it when I’m vertical and alert in the morning. Saves time really.
It says I can’t use it outdoors. Damn it to hell. I wanted to take it hiking in the mountains with me and you know, plug it into a grizzly bear’s ass and straighten my hair. My whole weekend is ruined now!
I’m also not allowed to use it while bathing. Again, planned on saving time, but pffftttt, they’ve put a damper on that scenerio too.
I guess folks, I’ll just have to use it while awake, not in water or in the woods and be sure not to burn my children or the elderly with it. Bummer. But the bright spot is, I have silky straight hair, something I’ve wanted for a very long time. Right now, as I type this, I’m flipping my fabulous hair all around. Remember, it’s all about me today. That should be your Saturday motto.
PS…I just noticed, that you could buy a pink one! How lovely is that? And proceeds go to Breast Cancer research. I totally would have bought a pink one if it were available to me. *Wink*
Posted by Sassy @
2:21 pm •
Uncategorized •
August 22, 2006
I should really reconsider staying up late and channel surfing. Really, really, really. As I was sitting on my duff, big, chocolate fudge brownie healthy apple in one hand and tv remote in the other hand, I came across a very weird and disturbing cartoon. I was horrified and mesmerized all at the same time. Who created this show? Surely it must be someone with a giant drug problem creative imagination. It skeered me.
We first meet this guy, who I think is the planet (I don’t want to say city because it looks more like they’re on freakin’ Mars or YourAnus) retardo. He doesn’t really speak in full sentences but from his grunting, you can ascertain that he wants to save something or someone. His retardo horse looks upset that he’s wearing a glowing greenish blue saddle. Or perhaps it’s because he’s just got big open circle’s for eyes. I dunno.
Then, all of a sudden, we see a nekid chick, who has definately pissed off the ‘blue men’ and they are trying to cart her away and are yelling obsceneties at her. She in turn asks one of the blue men to ‘make love’ to her. Whatever floats your boat sista.
Next, we see Liberace. I don’t know if his name is actually Liberace in the show but let’s just say he was very animated and flamboyant. Very. He was screaming at big boobied nekid chick that he loved her like his cousin (huh?) and she had no right to leave him and his ‘kingdom’. I don’t know if he’s a king but he definately fit the profile of ‘queen’.
BB Nekid chick escapes from the blue men and comes back to Liberace and calls him a bitch. He calls her a ho and then they begin to fight over this stick thing and continue with the insults and start trying to claw each other’s eyes out. Sounds like a blind date I had one time.
They continue to fight for the next 10 minutes and at this point, I should have just turned to another station but no, I couldn’t bring myself to flip it to Much Music or watch CSI reruns. It was scary yet like the proverbial train wreck and you just can’t look away.
We again see planet retardo and he’s lovin’ on some blonde chick who thankfully has her hooters covered up unlike her slutty co-star. Then the camera pans down and blondie, although wearing some kind of bikini top, is not wearing pants. Or panties. Or floss. Or anything. Just her cartoon beaver hanging out for all of the blue men and me to see. Thanks for that.
We get to see a close up of her cartoon ass crack (bet she finds a long hair of hers every now and again, caught in that said ass crack) as she bends down to pick up this green ball that everyone and their freaked out horse has been searching/fighting for all throughout the show. Apparently it has some kind of magical powers (maybe it produces clothes for these freaks to wear) and they all want a piece of it.
Finally at the end of the nightmare show, some big blue man wearing a fugly green shirt finds the glowing ball and starts laughing hysterically. I’m not sure what significance that holds but at this point I just don’t care and wanted to run and hide in my closet with my daughter’s stuff bears. I’m not sure if this show is a continuing series and airs every Monday night at around 12:30am but I can assure you I’m not about to find out.
Posted by Sassy @
7:39 pm •
Uncategorized •
August 19, 2006
Six. six. Six, errr, maybe we’ll just stick with one six. I can’t believe my youngest is now six and will be going to school in the fall full time. Although I’m excited for her (and me, ha ha), I think I might have a twinge of empty nest feelings and the first few days of the new school year will be weird, being here all by myself.
Maddy’s party went very well and the whole day in general was good. I took my kids shopping a couple of days ago to buy party favors to do up the kids’ bags and my princess daughter just had to have a crown to go with her birthday dress. I guess that’s standard procedure when one is royalty, even if only in one’s head.
I spent part of my morning blowing up balloons and tying ribbons to them so I could tape them to the wall. Always looks festive and fancy right? I couldn’t find any pink ribbon to go with the pink balloons and pink table cloth so green it was. I doubt her royal heiness and her friends would notice or care. But, of course, my daughter wanting things to match, did notice. She of course had to put her two cents’ worth in.
The cake was delicious even if the frosting was sweet enough to put an elephant into a coma. There was only one small piece left at the end of the festivities.
I like to pride myself on being creative and handy, especially in a pinch. So when the wrapping paper I bought was not enough to completely cover the Dora dollhouse we bought Maddy, I of course, used Home Depot flyers to finish it off. Looks purdy don’t it? Need some paint for your house?
Princess Madison invited 6 girls and 2 boys and 2 of her brothers were here as well. The younger boys hung out in Ryan’s room most of the time (Lord forbid they should all hang around and associate with the girls) and the girls stuck together like glue playing with the awesome makeup kit (hint hint) that Ang bought for Maddy. It was definately the hit of the party. I know a certain adult that liked it too. Not mentioning any names.
The party wound down around 4pm and the kids all had a really nice time, all got along wonderfully and everyone was well behaved. Even Penny. Ha ha.
Note from Maddy: Thank you for coming to my party. I had 2 pieces of cake. I like my ‘makeover’ kit. I’m going to give my mom a makeover because I think she needs more glitter on her face and arms. I have a Kim Possible charm now. I have Kim Possible clothes. But I didn’t get those for my birthday. Well I did buy one pair of Kim Possible pants with my own birthday money last night. But it wasn’t exactly money, it was on a gift card, so it’s kind of like money or a credit card. My mom has a credit card with a lady bug on it. It’s not a real lady bug though, so don’t think it is. My mom loves pink stuff. I do too. My brothers don’t really like it. Well my one brother does. But not my other two. I think they like blue. But I’m not totally sure on that. I’ll have to ask them I guess. ***Ah Maddy, could mom interrupt here? Let’s wrap this up shall we? Thanks*** Okay my moms says I have to wrap this up, but not wrap it up like a present though. I think she means she wants me to put a lid on it. So I guess I better go and I’m going to ride my new scooter. I got that for my birthday too. I also bought that with my gift card. I had $45 all together. But not in money, just in the gift card. I think I already talked about that. Okay my mom is giving me weird looks as she is typing this so I had better stop talking now. Anyway, thanks for coming to my party. Oh wait, I said that. Okay now my mom is getting out the duct tape. Bye bye.
Holy, can a person get a word in here or what? Happy Birthday Maddy, my little princess! You can view more photographs HERE.
Posted by Sassy @
8:25 pm •
Uncategorized •
August 18, 2006
It was a hot August day and I was on my way to the doctor’s office. My back hurt, my legs hurt, my whole body was screaming at me to either a) have this baby inside of me or b) have this baby inside of me. So that was my goal, to convince my doctor that he had to remove her.
I arrive at around 3pm and am shown into the room where they weigh you, take your blood pressure and give you a teeeeeeeeny tiny cup to pee in. Like that’s an easy chore for someone who is 22 9 months pregnant.
Finally I’m shuffled into the doctor’s office to wait for him and I’m all ready with my ’speech’. This is where I’m going to tell him all the reasons why I need to have this FOURTH child like 2 weeks ago now and I’m going to do it in a calm, collected voice and be sensible. Doc walks in, asks me how I’m doing and I immediately start blubbering about my legs, my back, my head, my ass and I’m thinking I’m making perfect sense but all he heard was, ‘I, my back, not, waaaaaaaaaaaaaa’. It wasn’t pretty. In fact, it was down right pathetic. I did the ‘uglay cry’ as Oprah would say.
He gets me some tissue and helps me up onto the table so he can measure my belly and check me. I’m asking him why he needs to do that because I’m not leaving this room until he pulls that baby girl out. I can see I’m scaring him and he wants to call security but I’m sure in his 20 plus years as an oby/gn, he’s seen other crazy loon balls pregnant women kinda come unglued.
I stop crying and then begin my begging. I need to have this baby now. Today. Right here. He lets me babble on and when I’m done acting less immature than the child I’m housing in my uterous, he calmly tells me that he will certainly let me have this baby by being induced. Praise the Lord, music to my ears. He tells me to call the hospital in the morning and see if they can fit me in. Oh you better believe I’m going to make them fit me in. You just wait and see bucko.
Scratch that. I wake up at 7:00am on the 18th and practically run for the phone, calling the materinity ward and begging them to take me in.
Oh darlin’, I’m sorry we’re booked up today.
But it’s my due date. I’ve never had a child on my actual due date before. Wouldn’t you like to make my dream come true?
Absolutely I would, but it’s just not possible.
But can’t you send one of the other moms to be home? I mean this is my due date day. So it’s all about me today.
*Laughter* No, I’m sorry sweetie, we can’t do that. She kinda whispers into the phone, I’d like to because there’s a really loud mom to be in room 1238 but that would be wrong. *More snickers*
I’m trying to see the humor in that statement and 6 years later, ya it’s funny that the nurse was snickering about the loud bitch in room 1238 but at that moment in time, I’m not laughing. I’m trying to convince her that I would totally support her throwing out loud mouth mama and putting me in room 1238. But she’s not biting.
You call back in the morning okay? And hopefully there’ll be a room for you.
Ya, well I’m going jogging today, all day, in the muggy heat of the east and I’m gonna make myself go into labour and then you’ll have to take me and kick out big yapped Bertha in room 1238.
Okay dear. Have a great day!
I did end up going back to bed all day going jogging for 10 hours in the heat but still no baby.
I wake up on the 19th and again waddle run for the phone. I’m nervously listening to the rings and crossing my fingers that the loud one has had her spawn and is now gone and the room is free.
Nurse picks up on the 7th ring.
Hi, I called yesterday and I wanted to come in to have my baby but some big mouth was in room 1238 so I couldn’t but please tell me she’s gone today and that the room is empty and I can come in and have my baby because I’ve been pregnant for 39 months and this is my 27th child and I need to have her now. Today. Now.
She’s probably calling the psych ward.
Hi, I’m sorry honey, we’re still booked up. Two more ladies came in during the night. Can you call us back tomorrow?
No, I can’t because my phone will be out of order, so I really should come in today so that I can have my baby. ‘Cause, ummm, ya, my phone won’t work tomorrow.
*Pause* I’m really sorry, I know you’re anxious, I can clearly hear it in your voice but we’re just swamped here today.
Okay. Big sigh. Thanks anyway.
I waddle back down the hall to my bedroom and crawl back into bed. I was too tired to even cry about it anymore.
About an hour later, as I’m laying there, in a half dream like state, I see my husband standing over me and he’s holding something. It’s pink. Oh shit, I had the baby and I didn’t even know it. Nice freakin’ mother I am. No wait, even though she’s a girl, she’s not going to come out being totally pink. Like a hot pink. Kinda metallic pink. He’s telling me it’s for me.
What? What’s for me? I had the baby? Why is she metallic pink?
Huh? The phone, it’s for you. *rolls his eyes*
Oh the phone! He’s holding the phone not the baby. Geez.
Hi, can you come in? We sent one of the moms home since she was having false labour pains.
What? Come in now? Like today? Now? I bolt up and my heart starts racing. Is this a joke?
No dear, it’s for real. Get ready and come on in.
I hang up the phone and start hollering incoherant shit. My husband comes back into the room figuring I’m dropping this baby right here on our white carpet.
Nothing! They want me to go in now!
We get ready and he drops me off and heads back home to stay with our 3 sons. The nurse had told me it would take a bit of time to fill out the paper work and they wouldn’t start to induce me until later in the day, so hubby had lots of time to find a sitter for our boys and then head in.
They get me settled in a room, hook me up to the monitors, help me fill out paperwork and then let me know that they’ll start inducing me sometime after lunch. I call my husband and he arrives shortly after 12pm. Nurse comes in around 1pm and she gets me all comfy and begins the process. She tells me that since this is my fourth pregnancy, that they have to do things slowly because they don’t want the baby to come too fast. Why the hell not? She’s been baking in there for 9 freakin’ months, she’s done I’m tellin’ ya.
As I’m watching the iv drip drip drip, I’m thinking this is going to take hours and hours. Like 89 hours or some stupid number. My husband is sitting comfortably in a chair reading a magazine.
How can you just sit there?
You’re just laying there.
I’m hooked up to iv’s and monitor’s. What else can I do?
And what else should I be doing?
I don’t know. Punching yourself in the face for putting me in this position.
Ummm I’m pretty sure you wanted to have another baby.
Nurse comes in to check on me and asks if I want an epidural? No I don’t because I’ve never had one before because I’m a paranoid worrywart and if I had one, I’d be that 1% of women that may become paralyzed from having an epidural so I’m skipping it. What else you got? I’m pretty sure she rolled her eyes.
She gets me some drug that I had when I gave birth to Ryan, which for the most part didn’t make me barf and took the edge off of the contractions, which at this point, were quite frankly becoming annoying and painful. She gives me the shot, basically in the ass and within a half hour, I’m floating on cloud nine.
