Just Stuff

So clearly my last blog post was an Epic Fail. I didn't read the articles, for the most part, and was just shooting from the hip based on my gut reaction to the headlines. Who would've thought all 4 of you, my readers, would actually read the news stories and comment based on what was actually going on? Or perhaps you had already taken an interest in those stories? I don't know. I didn't find as much information in the articles as some of you had.

So I've been sick with something I can't figure out for the past week or so. I am just super tired all the time. I slept 12 hours on Saturday and 12 more on Sunday. You'd think by Monday I would've been feeling rested, but no, I wasn't. I stayed home sick on Monday and again today.

While staying in Alabama with family, I had been driving my mom's old blue car. Blue or gray, whatever the fuck it is, it's an old lady color. Anyway, it's a car The Wife particularly likes and I had been taking possession of it after my mom bought herself a new, gigantic monster police car to drive. It's way too big for her, as I told her when she asked my advice. She is nothing if not consistent. Every time she's ever asked for my advice, I tell her and she does the opposite of what I said. I knew she would, so I didn't pay much attention when she ignored me pointing out that she herself had complained endlessly when my father bought her a Cadillac. She felt it was too big. She couldn't handle it. I reminded her how much she had disliked large cars and how difficult they were for her to drive. So she promptly bought the giant police car, perhaps just to spite me, 'cause I'm The Man and she's gotta stick it to The Man. It's a feminist thing.

Mom, is that you?

Anyway, she bought this big-assed car and she can't drive it. And she wanted to just dump her very nice old car on anyone who would take it. Usually she gives all her cars to my oldest sister. But my sister was fed up with taking her old cars and didn't want it. I knew my wife wanted this thing so I said I'd take it. Well, let me back up, I knew my wife wanted this car several years ago. I've since bought her a brand new car and she doesn't need it anymore. But my 4x4 is taking a real beating driving back and forth to Memphis every week and it needed a break. So I said I'd take this car. It was in perfect shape, driven by a little old lady to church on Sundays and Weight Watchers on Tuesdays. I knew this to be a fact.

So, for the past few months I've noticed that my mother can't back her police car down her own driveway worth a shit. She swerves all over the fucking place. Whichever direction she shouldn't turn the wheel, that's where she turns it. The driveway is a 6 car drive, OK? It's fucking huge and wide. You can load it up like a parking lot with cars if you need to. But my mom, she swerves over every inch of it when she's backing out. She nearly hit my 4x4 one time when I was with her. So I have to park it on the grass.

Meanwhile, Mom's old car, the nice old lady blue car that I haven't even taken the title of yet, was parked WAAAAAAY at the very end of the drive, far away from her so she could see it very clearly when backing up.

You can guess where this is going.

Friday, after I had left for Memphis, Mom sideswiped the car with her new police cruiser. She scraped all the way down the side of the thing, ruining the entire driver's side with the passenger side of her big-assed cruiser, which doesn't exactly look pretty either now.

Wow, that's not pretty

Yay Mom! Way to go.

How do you tell an old lady that she shouldn't be driving anymore? How do you tell an old feminist that she shouldn't be driving the big-assed police cruiser she bought just because you said she probably shouldn't? I'll be damned if I know, so I'm just leaving her to it. God only knows who else she'll hit before she stops driving this battleship and asks for her old lady blue car back again. And when she does, it'll still be around, just a lot uglier and more torn up than it was before because she's hit it over and over.

In other Me News, my boss assigned me to carry a new Blackberry. I've never had a Blackberry before and he didn't give me any instructions with it, just the phone itself. So I've been having fun trying to figure this fucking thing out. Naturally the first thing I did was to tell people my new mobile number because, let's face it, if I'm going to have to carry this thing then I'm not carrying my cell phone, too. The first person I gave my new number to is Steph. Yeah, she's not ever gonna call it or text me or anything like that, and I already know this, but you know what they say, stalkers never give up.

Yep, long ago, back when Steph left us for awhile and I had a complete meltdown, I gave her every piece of information she might ever need to contact me. Or steal my identity. Whatever. I gave her every telephone number, email address, home address, work address and even my social security number, birth date and mother's maiden name, just in case she might need any of this to reach me for any reason at any time. She said 'thank you' and prompty clicked 'DELETE', much as all you ladies do whenever one of us pathetic types emails you a photo of our penis.

Why do we assume that just because we so very much want to see pictures of your hot, female bits, that you might also want to see pictures of our purple, throbbing man bits? It's a mystery. And also a shame that you don't feel the same way, 'cause guys will email just about anything to a woman once he decides she's hot.

I have nothing really to say. I've had nothing really to say all week. I had nothing really to say when I wrote my last post, but I had hoped it'd be OK anyway. It wasn't, though.

So, I guess that's it. My life is boring. And I have a blog to document that fact with. Yay.

Epic Fail - Mexican style
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