The planet of honest people

Did you ever see the Saturday Night Live skit called "The Planet of Honest People"? It was hilarious! (Yes, I know, but after the 1970s, SNL *was* funny in bits and pieces, trust me.)

My boss and I were discussing, awhile back, how great it would be if we could tell everyone exactly what we thought. After spending way too long on the phone with one of our notoriously whiny, time-wasting committee members (why do those traits go hand in hand?), he said he really needed to sit down with her and say, "You know what? You're smart, and you have a good background for the work we do- but you are FUCKING DIFFICULT!" (You see why I like working for this man, don't you?)

"Well, I wouldn't say it exactly like that - but you get the point," he said.

Wouldn't it be great if we all did that? Or would the earth blow up with the release of tension?

I am an honest person, and though I am diplomatic with people I don't care for, unfortunately, I have a poker face. I'm sure they figure it out!

One of our board members, who is a dirty old man and a major pain in the ass, was grilling me over the phone last week (when my boss is on vacation he acts like he's the boss, even though he's a senile old fuck), and finally he said, "Oh, I'm just trying to get to you."

My reply: "It's working!"

However, while I am very honest with most people, I wish I could tell him the following: You are a nasty, dirty-minded old fuck and I can't believe you got four people to marry you, let alone not kill you. I have a hard enough time sitting through a one-hour meeting with you, or a five-minute phone call, and seeing that you have five or six children, I can't believe one of THEM hasn't strangled you by now, either!

I hope you get every nasty, terrible discomfort that can come with old age, and also permanent laryngitis.

Then my job will be much easier.

TGIF!

I have gotten my ass kicked this week via workouts. Wait, let me rephrase that - I have kicked my own ass because of said workouts.

I have been exercising about 5 times a week since I was in junior high. Swim, run, walk, what have you - I'm not a fanatic, but it makes me feel good. Apparently you're supposed to "surprise" your muscles now and then, so I got a boxing workout book. Mind you, this book deviously had the words "boxing" and "workout" in the title.

Silly as it may seem, I like boxing as a sport. I even used to have a punching bag and gloves. Mind you, I have no desire to hit anyone, but it's a good workout and a good release of energy.

As it turns out, some of the moves in the book are meant for women who really do want to box. As in, hit other people in a ring with gloves on.

I found this out when I read some of the text that accompanied the illustrations. As in, "this will help build up XX muscles, which will make it easier when you get hit in the solar plexus," and also, "this will help strengthen XX, which will make it easier to rebound when you get hit in the face."

EEEEEEP! I don't want to get hit ANYWHERE, thank you very much.

Still, the exercises are good, right?

Mistake #1: I did the workout with ankle weights, which made them more difficult. Text: "Do 20 straight reps." Me: "Are you fucking kidding me?"

Mistake #2: I did the workout twice in three days. After my muscles complained, I took a day off, then I figured I'd tough it out and do it again on the third day. Big mistake.

Mistake #3: I determined that I did not need ibuprofen before going to sleep. Ha! I took it at 4 a.m.

Revelation: I have muscles that I have apparently never used before, and they are not happy. And they are letting me know about it. They are especially unhappy that I did said exercises twice in 72 hours.

So tonight, while Mr. RK is out with a buddy doing boy stuff, I am taking a long bubble bath, reading, and not working out. In fact, I see dessert in my (near) future.

The piggie literary challenge, chapter 2

Thank you, Fireblossom! Now mind you, normally I'd ask you all to post on your own blogs so we can get as many people pulled into the piggie literary challenge as possible, but I suspect that once again, her blog is much too elegant for this.

How great is this?! Now PLEASE, pretty please, someone pick up with chapter 3...

Chapter 2

Monique, the red hot and risque raccoon

Made a bee line for Fred when she walked in the room

She said, "don't be a bumble-headed country dork!

What this place needs is some good pulled pork!

Some Cajun blues and some zydeco, too

Will bring them from near and far, to you.

Some fritters and frankfurters and pommes des terre,

And especially some barbequed Pierre!"

Fred stared.

His jaw hit the bar.

The hens were scared.

The foxes ran far.

"Boy, what a dump!"

Said Monique the raccoon.

She mascara-ed her mask

And walked out of the room.

Monique went to Hollywood

And became a star

With heavy eye make up

She's a big raccoon star,

The foxes came back

And the hens in a bunch...

And our hero Pierre

Was not served for lunch.

But then....

Something made a big thump on the roof....

Top Ten Tuesday

Joey initiated this...and I'm following :)

Here are ten things that made me laugh today:

1. We went to the Tillamook Creamery and took these ridiculous pictures...

2. Pheromone Girl got me a great book of postcards called "Grandma's Dead" that has sadistic expressions coupled with baby animals:
Does this prompt anyone to take up the piggy literary challenge? Hmm? The good news is that Fireblossom will write the second chapter of this gripping saga.

3. Speaking of that darling girl, she sent me the first card that I've ever received that came with a disclaimer: "Please note that this ecard has been sent from a website that caters to gay women. If you feel you've been sent this by mistake or as a prank- view it at your own discretion. This website, the owners and its company are NOT responsible or liable for any of its content, written or otherwise."

4. We went out to lunch and it was $33, and I am 33 today. Yes, the universe is laughing at me...

5. My friend J sent me an e-mail: "Happy birthday! I wish I could jump out of a cake for you." Good thing, because I can't jump in ;)

6. Making my little brother giggle on the phone. He is 13 going on 40, but he still giggles like a little kid if you are funny enough.

7. Earl Grey, one of our kitties, jumped up and gave me a bunch of ass-kissing purrs, until Mr. RK offered him treats. Then he ran away and gave Mr. RK the same ass-kissing purrs. True loyalty to be sure.
8. In the gift shop at the creamery, in the midst of screaming brats and a mother who let them run around in the midst of breakable things, Mr. RK says really loudly, "I'm going to create a new bumper sticker that says, "Breeders Ruin Everything!"

9. Mr. RK got me a birthday card from the kitties that said, "We will share tuna...but just for today."

I can't come up with anything for #10, but surely 9 is enough to hold you all for now...

Endearing yourself to your postal carrier

This is courtesy of my friend Fireblossom, who, awhile back, came up with something similar for a meme I started here (which I sadly cannot find, because my normal Virgo organizational skills have gone right out the window today), but withdrew it because she thought it was too negative for her blog. Seeing as how her blog is full of beautiful poetry, and mine is made mostly of sarcastic tripe, I invited her to post it here!

I included this picture of Candyland to sweeten it up.

Here is a helpful list of ways to endear yourself to your postal carrier!

1.Always say "no bills, just checks!" I have never heard that one before! That's so funny! Oh god, give me a minute to stop laughing! You're such a card! (actually, I lied. I've heard that one before. Today. Several times already)

2. Ask, "Hot enough (or cold enough) for ya?" No. Not until my skin turns black and I stop twitching.

3. Point out that Fred (or Jane), the old carrier, always arrived at eight o'clock in the morning and was the best carrier you ever had. Do this for the next fifty years. Make Fred a little more wonderful with each passing year.

4. Tell me all about your complaints against the government. Keep me hostage to your monologue as long as possible. Or, tell me your entire medical history, or about your dispute with your neighbor, who is also my customer.

5. Ask me directions. Even though i do the same route every day, ask me where that nice little Thai place across town is located. Become angry and abusive if I don't know. I am a walking GPS. (but I'm not the one who is lost.)

6. Pull up on the left side of my right hand drive vehicle, and sit there expecting me to talk to you. Never mind the tray filled with mail between me and the left window. Never mind that the crank (yes, crank, no pushbuttons!) is below tray level, which means that, to find out what you want, I have to stop what I'm doing, get out and come to you, to see what you want. If I motion you to come around to the right side, get angry and drive off in a huff. You're right. I should have come to YOU to give you directions.

7. If you see me at a light on a busy road, get out of your car as the light is turning green and dodge/block traffic to come and hand me your letter that's been on the seat of your car for three weeks as you drove past 20,304 mail boxes.

8. Don't control your dog. Say, "aw, he won't hurt you!" Everyone says that. It's mandatory. If your dog attaches himself to my leg with his teeth, stand there fluttering your hands and saying "No, Spot, no." Do not actually touch the animal...he might bite you!

9. Say, "you're late!". Oh gosh. When was my appointment?

10. Ask me if I'm new. Ask me again in a few days. Keep asking until I've been your carrier for five years.

11. Complain about me stepping on your grass. Do this on the coldest, snowiest day of the year. Come out of your toasty house where you've been watching Oprah, and let me have it but good. Do this especially if you haven't cleared your walk. Do this especially if your yard looks like an empty lot and is full of last fall's leaves, hand bills and trash.

12. Have your three year old come out to get the mail. He'll hang on to it, honest. Well, almost all of it. Well, some of it, perhaps. Then complain the next day that I dropped your mail on the ground and left it there.

13. You know that little teensy tiny mailbox that was put on the house when it was built in 1923? Never replace it. Complain about bent mail. Order lots of magazines. Don't collect the mail for a few days...you're busy! And anyway, that box has always been good enough!

14. Build one of those cute home-made mailboxes that looks like a car or a birdhouse! It's so cute! I'm loving those metal edges, bare screw ends, and splinters!

15. If you ever knew anyone who ever worked for the postal service, anywhere on the globe, at any time from 1940-present, ask me if I know them!

16. Say, "I told the other carrier about this problem!" We're like ants. Tell one of us and we all know. Trust me on this.

17. If you receive unpleasant mail, or do not receive "good" mail, scream at me about it. I hand select all of your mail each day. I could have brought you love letters and checks, but, because i am all those things you just called me, I brought you bills and advertising instead. Hold up a letter and ask me what is in it. If you have a dispute with the sender, start screaming at me.

18. If you see me eating lunch, come up and start telling me that you've been watching me just sit there for twenty minutes and you're calling the post office! Tell them I'm having tuna salad, that will get me fired for sure.

19. Tell me you're missing your bank statement/ letter from grandma/ other item. Ask me, indignantly, where it is. Never mind that this is like asking where one particular fish is, in the ocean. Never mind that if i had it, you'd have it. Never mind that I can't possibly know where something i don't have is. Act like I'm stupid. Lazy. Willfully infuriating. I am. You're right. I had it in my pocket all the time!

20. If you don't receive an expected piece of mail, it is undoubtedly because i took it home with me/ gave it to your neighbor/ dropped it in the street/ have it hidden in my truck/ ate it or sold it. Don't waste time considering any toher possiblility. After all, they told you the check was in the mail!
--

Are we there yet?

Yes, I am addicted to the lolcatbuilder!

I am 944 pages into War and Peace - which means I only (only!) have 500 to go. My cat is not amused - he has actually taken a bite out of the cover. It's so big, it must be a toy, it can't possibly be something to read!

Don't get me wrong, it's a good book. And I enjoyed Anna Karenina. But man, does this guy need an editor. How many different ways can you write a battle scene?

Who chooses what makes a book a classic, I wonder?

And did you know - his wife copied his manuscripts by hand, by candlelight! Then again, they had about a dozen kids, so he must have been doing something for her.

Top Ten Thursday

Joey started the idea of a Top Ten Tuesday blog, so let's think of this as Top Ten Tuesday Plus Two. And it's going to be about - you guessed it! - the top ten things that have irritated me this week.

Sorry, I've got to vent somewhere.

1. Raging PMS. I didn't sign up for this when I was born! WTF?

2. The volunteer in some remote part of the state who kept me on the phone because she couldn't believe my office no longer had a banner that we had lent her three years ago.
Me: "If you go to your local printer-"
Her: "But really, I have a picture of it, it looked very nice."
Me: "I'm sure it did. And if you want to get another one-"
Her: "You really don't have it?"

3. This brings me to what pisses me off EVERY Tuesday, Thursday, and every other day of my life: WHY DO people ask you something twelve different ways when they already know the answer? I can picture it now: "Oh yes! The banner! Well, it turns out we actually DO still have it, because you asked me for the seventh time! Cheers!"

4. Which brings me to another one of my pet peeves: people who suck up my time with insignificant bullshit. Why are the meaningless conversations always the longest ones?

5. Which reminds me of the next one: the phone. I HATE YOU!!! You wait until my boss is gone for two weeks and all of the volunteers have gone home, and then you ring, ring, ring, and ring again. And then when I have volunteers in to answer you, you're silent. How's them pickins?

6. Kaiser (sorry, Phil.) You reschedule my doctor's appointment AGAIN, after you already rescheduled once and I waited an entire month, and now you can't find a female doctor for me unless I wait another month, and the only reason I need the appointment is to refill the damn prescription, of which no refills remain, so I can't wait another month, you fuckheads.

7. The weather. Why do you get hot when I am already cranky? Can't you see it makes me even crankier, and more in need of the justification for more DQ?

8. DQ: Why do you have to be so close and so tempting? (OK, it's only my total lack of willpower that pisses me off.)

9. Tom Ridge. Why does it take a book deal for you to have a moral reckoning? You and all of the other ex-Bushies who didn't have the moral courage or guts to speak out at the time of the scare tactics and other illegal shenanigans that went on in that clownhouse.

10. The people who are questioning the gender of superb female athlete Caster Semenya, of South Africa, because she is kicking ass. Oh wait - she's doing so well that she must not really be a girl! Go soak your heads, you sexist motherfuckers. By the way, Joey sparked a great conversation about this.

Ta ta for now! I'm going to go eat my Peanut Buster Parfait.