October 27, 2007

Don’t panic kids, I don’t think I really killed Barney, however, if you looked inside my washer you may have a different opinion about that:

Seems washing a fluffy, fuzzy, furry rug is not recommended because your washer will tear the shit out of it. It did come out of the dryer looking relatively nice. It was at least clean.

It’s Saturday afternoon and I’m absolutely not dressed looking so stylish, Vogue will probably be calling any minute now. I have cleaned my house, ran the dishwasher, talked to a friend (who I’m worried about…she called me the President of worry…sweet huh?), fed my kids, gave the cat 90 seconds of undivided attention, made beds, put laundry away and have given serious thought to making cookies. You know, because we all need bigger asses. Right now, it’s just an idea I’m rolling around in my head and it does require some effort, and quite frankly I’m not sure I have any effort to give today. I’m tired. Whiney I know.

I laughed at my husband last night because as we were all out at one of our favourite restaurants torturing the waitress having a nice meal, his cell phone rang. It was however, a wrong number unbeknownst to us for the 10 seconds he was on it. I hear, “Hello? Oh. No, okay, sure, thank you!” I ask him who’s calling him at 8pm on a Friday night on his business number?

Oh it was a wrong number.

Oh. Then why did you thank the person like they had just given you money or want a job done?

I always thank people who call and it’s a wrong number.

Oh. Umm. Why?

I’m not entirely sure.

Oh. crazy much?

I suppose, maybe that one day one of those wrong numbers could possibly turn into a potential customer, so hey, why not thank them for being so dumb, dialing a wrong number? Like who does that? I’ve never dialed the wrong number. Now my fingers have, those lazy bitches, not watching what they’re doing, but not me personally. See how that works? I’m on the ball at all times. Sharp.

‘Member how I was telling you about my new Crockpot/slowcooker? If you don’t, scroll down, it’s somewhere on here but I’m too lazy to go find the damn post and link it. It ain’t that far back. As I was saying, I’ve now cooked 3 meals in that thing and my family is happy that the cramps and vomiting have now stopped from my past cooking ‘incidents’. See how nicely life works out? Ya. Speaking of food, I must go eat something other than vodka apples. Have a great weekend and all that jazz.

August 6, 2007

We went for a drive in the country yesterday. And nothing adds to that experience like getting a wrong number on your cell phone from a seemingly drunk womanm with a gaggle of other drunk women in the backgroun.

Hello?

Hi! What are you wearing?

What am I wearing?

Ya.

Ummm a pair of jeans and white tee shirt.

Oh, how about a wet tee shirt?

Ah, well, no it’s not wet, just white.

Oh darn! How are you?

I’m fine, how are you?

Great! Whattya doing?

Just out for a drive in the country.

Why?

I dunno, something to do.

Are you coming over?

Ah, who is this?

You don’t know who this is?

Not really.

Really? You don’t know who this is? For real?

Ummm ya for real.

What’s with you today? Good thing you’re so pretty!

Well, thanks. But I still don’t know who this is.

Really? Come on, you do!

No, but I guess it’s someone who loves me?

Loves you? No, but I’d fuck you! *Huge laughing by other women in the background*

Ah, well, okay then.

Naw, I’m just fuckin’ with ya! Seriously, you coming over?

I don’t think I am since I still have no freakin’ clue who this is.

Jesus girl, what’s with you today?

I’m crazy I guess. Still don’t know who this is.

This IS Britney right?

Britney? You’re looking for someone named Britney?

Yes. And this IS Britney right?

Nope.

You’re kidding? This ISN’T Britney?

That’s correct.

Oh geez, I have the wrong number!!!!!!!!!!!

Ya think?

*Click*

My husband asks what that was all about, so I relay the conversation to him. He was upset because he NEVER gets those kind of wrong numbers and wanted to know if her number came up on my cell phone and maybe we should give her a call later. Maybe she’s cute and into orgies. Sure honey, sure.

February 24, 2007

I really, really should be doing laundry right now. You know what though? My laundry isn’t going anywhere, so I say, to hell with it. Except, that I do need my laundry because it’s basically my clothes and I’m not going out in public naked. At least not today.

Did I tell you that my neighbours still have their Christmas tree up? Yup, they do. I don’t think it’s so much the old man that is in charge of the tree, I believe it’s the old battleaxe wife that is so weird that she can’t tell if it’s December or if I’ve punched her in her ugly someone’s shat on my face kinda face or that it’s actually February. I think they still have their Halloween lights up too. Freaks.

I’m going to another hockey game tonight. Isn’t that just the shiznat? Amazing really because this is only my second time. Remember I was a hockey virgin just last month? Well I’m reminding you. Geez, you have a short memory. Have you been drinking? You should lean towards the example I set, and that is being sloshed 24/7 a model person who never does anything that would make anyone’s eyebrows go up in shock. I’m all innocent like that. Near perfect really. It’s kind of embarrassing. Oh well. Such is life.

Oh ya, I forgot to tell you about my wrong number. They follow me like flies to shit. Ah. Hmm. Anyway, goes like this:

Hello?

Hi, is Mrs. Begoenogowiulknlngsslijtoy there? (People never get my last name right. And it really sounds like it looks) (Ah that’s not my real last name. It aint’ that fucking weird.)

Ah ya, sure, close enough.

I’m wondering if you would prefer a new phone, 2 extras for 2 months for free or 5% off of your bill for 5 months?

What? Who is this?

Oh I’m calling from *insert stupid phone company name here*.

Well I’m quite happy with the company we’re with now. Thanks anyway.

I’m thinking, that my last sentence pretty much signals the end of our stimulating conversation but alas it does not.

If you could just tell me which ‘free’ option you’d like, then I can get you started.

Get me started on what? Unless you’re offering me a free trip to Africa, $10,000 in cash, a new car and a hot massage, I’m not biting.

Excuse me? Ah, well, I, ah, well we can give you a free phone. *Insert asinine fucking retarded fake laugh here*

I have 2 phones that I’m happy with, we get along very well.

Well you could get the 2 extras such as call waiting and call forwarding, and they’d be free for 2 months! Two months!

Wow! Fantastic. But I get SIX free features with my current phone service provider. All. The. Time.

You could save 5% off of your total bill for 5 months!!!!!!!!

Wow!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! No.

Can I just…….

Listen, I know it’s your job to call me and mispronounce my name even though it’s quite simple to pronounce (my daughter could spell it for shits sake at age 2) and I know you’re all excited when you tell me about your ‘free stuff’ but I’m telling you, I’m not switching. Never. Ever.

But you can even keep your same phone number!

Super. I’m still not switching. You have yourself a nice day now. See ya. And by see ya, I mean I’m going to get out my voodoo doll and stick needles in it, pretending it’s you. What’s your name again?

Are you sure……….

I hung up. Geez. Like I have things to do mister annoying telephony man. I have M&M’s to look after. I have hair to flat iron. I have booze that requires my attention church functions to attend. Sigh. It’s hard being me.

Okay, time to get in the shower. It’s like 1pm-ish and here I’ve sat for most of the day. I did clean earlier and feed my kids so it’s not like I did nothing. Close to it but not quite. Ya’ll (don’t I sound cute when I say that? No? Well then.) have a super friggin’ Saturday.

November 15, 2005

Ring Ring Ring.

Woman:Hello?
Me:Hi, is this Dance on Edge dance studio?
Woman:Ya.
Me:Oh hi, this is Maddy B’s mom and I just wanted to let you know that she’s not able to make dance class tonight.
Woman:What?
Me:This is Maddy B’s mom and I just wanted to let you know that she’s not able to make dance class tonight.
Woman:Ok?
Me:Ok, well can you please pass the message along to her teacher please?
Woman:What?
Me:Ummm is this Dance on Edge?
Woman:Ya.
Me:This is the dance studio?
A few seconds of silence, muffled sounds, then a man’s voice.
Man:Hello?
Me:Hi, is this Dance on Edge?
Man:Yes.
Me:Ok good. Can you please tell my daughter’s dance teacher that she’s unable to make class.
Man:What class?
Me:Ummmm tonight’s ballet class. At 6:30. The one that starts in 25 mins.
Man:Ok, what you want?
Me:What I want? I want you to give my daughter’s dance teacher a message. PLEASE. Can you do that? Is this the dance studio?
Man:Yes. Dance.
Me:Ok, my child is supposed to be at the 6:30 class TONIGHT but she can’t make it, so could you kindly let her teacher know?
Man:What teacher?
Me:Ok, am I on Candid Camera? Is this Dance on Edge dance studio??????
Man:Yes.
Me:Ok because I was worried this was the FREAKIN’ TWILIGHT ZONE.
Man:I don’t get it.
Me:Please give the teacher the message.
Man:What you want?
Me:I want you to take the biggest banana you can find and then I want you to shove it up your nose and then I want you to drive rusty nails in your eyes….no, no, wait, drive rusty nails in my eyes because clearly I’m going insane and I’d rather die of some kind of rusty nail poisoning than to try to get through your brain that is clearly made of mush or shit, not sure which. Maybe mushy shit. Anyhoooo, if you could give my daughter’s teacher the message I’d really, super appreciate it.
Man:What you want?
Me:OMG shoot me now.
***Note*** I flushed my head in the toilet after this, banged my head on a brick wall 8 times, drove toothpicks under my nails and watched Britney Spears videos to torture myself because obviously I am going nuts.