Tuesday, February 28, 2006

The Remote Junkies!!!

Check out my brother's band by cutting and pasting this link into your browser:


Wednesday, February 22, 2006


So yesterday at work, I got finished interviewing random skanky mid-20's man, who was evidently pleased with my service, because I believe his exact words were, "Thanks kitty cat. You have yourself a great day."
Never have I felt so dirty in all my life.

So to the men out there, who I'm sure already know this: Please do not call us "kitty cat." EVER. It's not sexy or hot, and it doesn't make us feel sexy or hot. It just makes us feel dirty and it makes you look silly!!!
Just some friendly advice...

Tuesday, February 21, 2006


I just heard an interview on the radio with Simon Cowell.


What more can you ask for?

Saturday, February 18, 2006

Absent Blogger

So I've been blog absent lately.
Lots of stuff going on recently.
I discovered myspace.com, and I feel like I'm cheating on blogspot or something!! Like my computer time should be strictly devoted to blogger...but for all of you my space folks out there, here's my shameless plug: http://myspace.com/callmeco

Things have been pretty blah recently. Weather's nasty, our camping trip got canceled due to the rain, work's been hectic, etc.
On the upside, I did spend today watching Sex and the City. And one can never complain about a day of SEX!

Kevin and I have also been watching the Olympics likes the freaks that we are. Actually spent an hour this morning watching CURLING. You heard me right. And we giggled every time we got the chance to talk about what a great rock those men can throw. I love inserting my own commentary into random sports. It's such bizarre lingo. "He throws one hell of a stone."
But I'm hooked on it.
What is up with the Winter sports? Bobsledding? Curling? Ice Dancing?
I mean, I understand that these are not easy to do. I'd get my ass kicked in every one of these competitions. True enough. And I'll even take back what I said about bobsledding. There is a bit of an edge to that sport since one wrong move can lead to a violent and extremely cold death for those guys...
But riddle me this: How is it that they can drop Softball from the summer games and keep curling and ice dancing on the winter roster?

Tuesday, February 14, 2006

A Valentine's Day of Old

One of the funnier Valentine's Day memories with Kevin was our first one together - Valentine's Day 2001.
Kevin bought me this beautiful card - pink and lacy (of course) with hearts and glitter. The words were amazing about how I made him complete, etc.
It really had me.
And then I turned the page and read, "And that's why I'm so proud to call you my wife."
Temporary confusion set in.
And then I realized what had happened. The jackass hadn't even read the damn card. The card that I was practically weeping over. He had just picked the first card that he saw that was pink and lacy, and assumed it would work. The words and sentiment were clearly not his own. They were that of a random Hallmark writer.
And that's when Valentine's Day became dead to me.

Monday, February 13, 2006

C-R-E-E-P. Creep.

Aforementioned creepy co-worker just walked up to me and out of the blue says, "You know what? I was skinny once just like you and look at me now. Fat. This will be you one day. Fat."
Umm. OK.
I wasn't sure how to respond. So that's what I said.
"Ummmmmm. OK."
I wonder if he knows that he's strange...

Thursday, February 09, 2006

A Letter to Alli

Dear Puppy:

Thanks for all the cute things you do. Your puppy breath is funny, the fact that you fall over when you walk is adorable, your excitement is contagious. While I wouldn't trade you for the world, there are some important matters that we need to straighten out:

1) My house is not your toilet. Neither is my car. Please take note of this ever-so-important fact.

2) You only get a treat if you potty outside. Please do not shit on the floor and waddle to the pantry expectantly. You don't get a treat for that.

3) My Body By Victoria bra is not your chew toy. Neither are my shoes, my clothes or my hairbrush. Taking these items and parading them around the house is not acceptable. Commit that to memory, puppy.

4) Bedtime is not a time to cry and yelp and bark and make yourself so sick that you do your little puppy gag thingy. It will not get you out of your kennel. Go. To. Sleep.

5) When licking my face, please be careful not to bite my nose. Your teeth are like cute - but very real - knives; When you bite my nose, it hurts and makes my eyes water. That's not nearly as fun for me as it is for you.

Thanks in advance for your cooperation on these matters.

Saturday, February 04, 2006

Say What?

So I noticed yesterday that there's a sign on the wall at my tanning bed that says, "Please use the bathroom...not our trash cans."
What does it even mean???

Thursday, February 02, 2006

More Tales From The Office

Co-worker number three's divorce was final yesterday. She had filed for divorce about 3 months ago, and wore pink from head to toe yesterday in what I believe was an unconscious act of celebration. Or maybe it was a conscious act of celebration. Who knows?
So anyway, today she gets 4-month anniversary roses from her "new" man, whose picture is suddenly plastered all over her desk and also serves as her new screen saver. The man is everywhere.
Honestly, I'm not trying to judge - I know life happens.
But perhaps show a little discretion! Don't just go gleefully shouting, "I CHEATED!" from the rooftops, ya know?

Wednesday, February 01, 2006

Golden Arches My Ass

Ever since I ran across it in College Station, I've been wondering just what they teach you at Ronald McDonald University. It can't be all hamburgers and fries. I mean, it's an expensive training facility that McDonald's has built, and my thought is that in order for it to be cost effective, there has to be some heavy stuff going on in there, right?
Today, I went to McDonald's and noticed that both ladies working the window looked pretty smug. My first thought: They look like they know something I don't know. Probably something they learned at that damn Ronald McDonald University.
I'm now thinking that RMU and the entire McDonalds chain of restaurants is just a front for Secret Service agents in training. In my mind, RMU has a shooting range, an obstacle course and the obligatory vats of grease they use to teach the agents in training how to make those killer golden fries. Gotta keep up the facade, afterall...