TMI Thursday – Installment 4

Ok.. so I know that I’ve missed a few TMI Thursday. Not for um :: cough cough :: lack of content but simply, I forget it’s Thursday most times.. usually reminded when I find Project Runway on the cable grid fifteen minutes after it started.

HATE missing the first 15 minutes.

And.. yknow.. once Project Runway is over I’m toast so there you go.

Anyhoo…

So today.. since I’m basically snowed in AND it’s Thursday, I figured I’d resurrect the tradition!

At least I know that will make Gary happy and Mark pee himself. Maybe. That’s the goal anyway!

A little while ago, Gary posted posted a question on his blog that made me think of something that happened to me years ago… and was repeated to just about everyone who knew someone who knew what happened to me.

That’s A LOT of people folks.. since I generally laugh at myself and have no filter for embarassing myself.

Ok.. I left you hanging long enough.

CAUTION: The following may leave you with a visual you may not want. It may also leave you really offended or you may wind up spilling hot coffee on your lap. If you do, don’t sue. I have absolutely no money to hire a lawyer for frivilous lawsuits.

A’ight..

So in case you didn’t know, I had my woo-ha pierced. You know what a whoo-ha is, right? It’s a friend of mine’s term for the female part of the body that differentiates them from males. Yknow, the Y? The um.. Mound of Venus? The Va-jay-jay?

OK!!!!!!!!!! Geez!! The Clit.. alright? I had my clit pierced!!

If you didn’t know and want to find out alllllll about it, read HERE.

So maybe a week or so after it was pierced, I was having dinner with a group of friends that I used to work with. I guess about 6 or 7 of us. We went to this pretty upscale restaurant where my friend Gags knew someone who knew someone.

NOTE: I call her Gags NOT for the obvious reasons.

So I did the whole girly thing and got all fancied up. To mentally prepare, I even put on underwear.

Yes.. for those of you who don’t already know, I’m not a big fan of underwear.

WARNING: MEN SKIP OVER

I had.. well.. still have.. this really girly black lace thong / pantie set that makes my boobs look AMAZING!! So amazing that I can actually say that I know what Victoria’s little bitty secret is!

SAFE FOR MEN TO RESUME READING

I really wanted to wear these really awesome pair of heels that I had bought:

Please don't ask me why I have a picture of my shoes!

So since I generally buy shoes without caring if I have something to match them, I dug through my closet and found this really sweet pair of black pants that had this beading deal on them .. and a light tan suede top that wrapped around just the right way to show off a little bit of the black lace bra.

I can do the girly thing when I really.. really want to!

Anyway.. so we meet up at the restaurant and we’re having a good time catching up on this and catching up on that.

Right after the main course is served, I have to go to the bathroom. I drink ALOT of coffee generally and even more fluids were ingested during the wait at the bar for the rest of our group and during dinner so far.. so I really had to go pee.

I’m not a very good “.. I think I may have to tinkle so I’ll go now just in case” person. I’m the “.. wait for the very last nano second before having to race to the nearest bathroom and then unbutton.. unzip.. or pull down along the way” kinda gal.

And that’s exactly what happened.

I race to the bathroom.. bust into the stall.. start pulling down my pants… and OH MY FUCKING GOD THE PAIN.

A searing white hot lightening of pain that made me forget all about my need to empty my bladder.

What the hell?

I try lowering my pants and underwear again.. slowly this time.. and it won’t budge without my having to suck in my breath so hard to avoid the lightening.

And then it dawns on me. Oh.. son of a BITCH!!! My piercing poked through the lace of the thong and got all twisted up in there. It was so absurd that I started laughing. Not to myself, mind you.. out loud and proud!

I have this really bawdy laugh and when I find something really, really funny.. I laugh. Loud.

So I’m standing in the stall with my back to the door, digging down in my whoo-ha trying to get the little barbell-y thing untangled from my underwear. And the more I couldn’t.. the more I laughed.

Someone happened to come into the bathroom and heard me laughing.. but to her, it sounded like I was crying. I had heard the door opening so I wasn’t jumping out of my skin when I heard someone gently knocking on the stall door asking if I was okay..

Between laughs.. I said that I was fine.

She asked if I was with anyone in the restaurant and I told her again that I was fine, thank you very much.

Obviously, she had a good Samaritan complex and when she left the bathroom she went up to the nearest waitress and told her that there was a woman who was obviously distressed in the ladies’ room.

The waitress happened to be standing right behind Gags. Now.. you might have to “know” Gags to appreciate this but she she hears EVERYTHING. I mean.. EVERYTHING. Put her in a stadium full of people and she will tell you what everyone around her is talking about. Usually it’s funny. Not this time.

She hears the conversation between the woman and the waitress.. puts two and two together and very loudly says “OMG! There’s something wrong with Leese!!!” She jumps up from the table along with two more of my girlfriends and they rush to the ladies room.

While all this is happening, I’m still in the stall diddling my crotch. Trying to do that in 4 inch heels kinda throws off your balance so I figured I would leverage myself by putting one foot on the rim of the toilet seat. Yknow.. give me a little space to work with.

So I’m standing there.. with my foot up on the toilet rim trying to finish what I started and the heel of my foot slips.

Did you see the picture of my favorite shoes?

My favorite SUEDE shoes???

Forgetting all about my tangled underwear, I use sheer will to not have my tan suede shoes dunk in tidy bowl blue water. Grabbing onto the top of the stall walls helped. Alot.

But now I’m laughing even harder.. especially because I am in a very compromised position with pants almost at my ankles and holding myself up by the stall walls.

It’s at this moment that Gags and my other friends bust into the bathroom literally screaming LEESE! LEESE! ARE YOU OK? DID SOMETHING HAPPEN?

Which .. yknow.. if I was a normal person, I would have just told her everything was fine but I’m not normal so I bust out laughing louder.

Gags has been my friend a long time and she’s been through a lot of ups and downs with me .. especially with the Spawn From Satan’s Ass.

She hears the laughing.. and I guess it must have sounded like I was bawling.. so with a loud OMG!! she literally dives under the stall door.. all brown and blond spiky hair and designer glasses and on her back.

The look on her face when she saw me hanging from the stall walls with my pants at my ankles and my foot in the air was PRICELESS.

It was one of those moments where it feels like time stops or everything moves in slow motion. It felt like forever but it was probably and instant before she yelled WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING YOU FREAK????

Through laughs, I told her to help me get my balance.

WHAT THE HELL AM I SUPPOSE TO DO? IM HALF WAY UNDER THE DOOR ON THIS DISGUSTING FLOOR THAT WILL PROBABLY GIVE ME ECCCCZZZZEEEEMMMMMAAAAA!!!

Gags has this thing with eczema.

She winds up crawling all the way into the stall with me and having no real idea how it happened, I was able to get my balance. And between her yelling at me, I was able to tell her what happened.

And then she laughed.. which made me laugh.. which made our friends who were still in the bathroom wonder what the fuck we were doing.

JUST RIP THEM OFF FOR CHRIST’S SAKE!

I told her I couldn’t do that.. that I liked this set.. and she nodded in complete woman understanding.

She then did what only a real BFF would do .. offered to untangle it for me. But that was just too freakin’ weird.. even for me. So Gags unrolled half a roll of toilet paper onto the floor.. made me take my shoes off.. and then I did this whole Houdini trick to step out of my underwear and when I finally did, I was able to do what needed to be done to get untangled.

My other friends had already left the bathroom once they found out what was going on so when me and Gags returned, they all stood up and clapped.

There was a large group at the table to the side, asked one of my friends what was going on and she loudly proclaimed THE ONE IN BLACK PANTS GOT HER PIERCING STUCK IN HER UNDERWEAR!!!!

You remember that shampoo commercial for Fabrege? You know that one.. it went something like “.. she told her friend who told her friend who told her friend and so on and so on and so on” ? …

yea.. it was something like that

Random Thoughts.. Otherwise Known As Things That Annoyed Me Today

.. I usually have an “Wanna Annoy Me” post every now and again but there were too many things today that just crawled up my ass so I figured I’d go easy on you guys and just enter one post.

Actually.. that’s not all together true. I just got back from the laundromat with 5 :: count ’em 5 :: hampers so stuffed with clean clothes that I’ll never get the wrinkles out to fold that multiple posts just isn’t Father Time’s hourglass.

Ok..

So..

Things that annoyed me today:

1. I cut my bangs too short. I have this crazy curly hair that just magically shortens by 5 inches when you cut it. I usually leave it to the professionals :: which, I WAS one before I let my license expire :: but it got on my nerves so bad today that I dry cut it. This.. for all you non-professionals out there is when you cut your hair.. dry. Meaning, not wet. Meaning you just get done blow drying your hair and you can’t stand the way it fall into your face and annoys you that you grab the nearest scissors you can find and just start chopping. That’s a “dry cut”. The problem is when you cut your bangs yourself, you kind of get cross eyed. So it’s not a pretty thing to witness. So what was once a bang length down to my chin is now a bang length just in the middle of my eye. Too short. Long term baseball cap wear-age definitely in my future.
2. Men who wear tighty-whities. I am allowed to say that out loud because Chief is among the tighty-whitie wearers and I am the one who has to launder his tighty-whities. I used to roll my eyes at the Spawn from Satan’s Ass because he wore tighty-non-whities and it just looked ridiculous but if there is one kind thing I can say about the Spawn, it’s that he spared me from looking at and having to handle stained underwear. And we all know underwear gets stained.. PLEASE don’t try to convince me that your’s doesn’t. My question is.. how are you not EMBARASSED by it? I have been know to wear underwear on occassion :: yes, I usually go “commando” :: but even then, one little thing that isn’t suppose to be there and they get chucked in the trash. Buried deep. So no one can see them.
3. People who drive with handicap placards hanging from their rear view mirror. Because.. like.. it clearly states DO NOT HANG WHILE DRIVING. I know.. because my dad :: RIP :: used to have one. If you’re going to do that then I’m going to assume your handicap is of the mental variety and you shouldn’t be driving anyway. Therefore, I can’t help what comes out of my mouth when you decide your going to make a UTurn on a four lane highway from the far right lane, while I’m in the middle lane. Jerk off.
4. .. and speaking of stuff hanging from rear view mirrors. What’s with all the damn plastic leis all of a sudden? Did I miss a memo? Forget to invite me to a party. Get that dumb shit off.
5. People who think THEIR time is WAY MORE valuable then mine. You know the whole issue we’re having with Bubba and school, right? Well, I’ve been in email communication with his primary teacher and since today was report card day, she suggested that I go to the high school at 4:30 so that I can have a sit down meeting with all his teachers. 4:30. I KNOW she said 4:30. I KNOW she said 4:30 because when she said 4:30 all kinds of things started running through my head like, “Will Chief be able to close the store and come with?” .. “Do I leave Bubba home alone?”.. “Will I be able to pick Bubba up at 2:20 and then go to the wholesalers and make it back in time?” .. so yea.. I KNOW she said 4:30. So what happens? I get to the school at 4:30 and no one. Anywhere. I check the library where we were suppose to meet and it’s empty except for someone that’s somewhere in the back who won’t respond to my HELLOs or EXCUSE MEs only to make an appearance after I roamed all over an empty school :: so much for fucking security :: and happen to see the above mentioned someone in the middle of the library vacuuming. When asked the whereabouts of the teachers, she looked at me in disgust and told me that report cards weren’t going to be given out until 6… with an attitude. But no bigger then the one I was already carrying around. So I drive back to the shop fuming and then drive back to the school fuming and when finally face to face with the primary teacher, she tells me that she smugly told me that she had something to do. If Bubba’s education was NOT as important as it is I would have dropped the cow on her fat ass. Immediately.
6. My father in law telling me he can’t believe I stayed with his son this long. That annoyed me. Maybe because it’s true and I know it’s true. Dunno. Must ponder that one.
7. Missing school pictures. OH how that annoyed me! If you read some of my recent previous posts, you know that the Crack Whore was throwing up accolades in my direction because I sent her a message that I had Spaz’s school picture for her. Well, today, Spaz got out of school early and because .. well, I don’t really know “because” .. anyway, he called the Crack Whore and she how ever it happened, she came by the shop and took him somewhere. I was in the back.. didn’t see her.. didn’t care. BUT I figured when I got home, I better sort out the pictures because I wanted to put which ever ones in the Thanksgiving cards I got for Chief’s brother, my mom, etc. So when I get home.. there’s no 8×10. There WAS an 8×10 because I ordered and 8×10.. and even if I didn’t think I ordered an 8×10, I clearly remember the day that Spaz came home with them and pulled the 8×10 out of the envelope because I told him to put it back before his sticky candy fingers smudged it. I have a wall lined with their 8×10 school pictures so I know there was one. So I call the Crack Whore and leave a message to have Spaz call me because there’s a missing 8 x fucking 10 picture missing. About an hour and a half goes by and he calls and asks if I want to talk to him and I ask him if he took the picture. He said no.. and if there was ever a time that I could tell this child was lying it was then. The pause.. the stutter.. all neon arrows. He tells me that I didn’t order one. Now.. excuse me.. my brain cells are not swimming in anything chemical. It’s sharp as a tack so to try and convince me that I didn’t order one only inflamed me more. That and the fact that the edging that was on the 8 x fucking 10 picture was cut. And not in a straight line. We had issues with pictures before, me and the Crack Whore. Especially when she stole Weed’s prom picture. Yes. You read that right. STOLE. So I’m not putting it past her that she asked about the pictures and Spaz gave her the 8 x fucking 10. What I’m more pissed about is that she made him lie about it. So tonight at dinner, after he came home from her crack den, I told him that I wanted the picture back. That no one but me and him knew where the pack was. He started pulling his drama queen shit which further proved he had lied. So Chief gave him the opportunity to come clean saying that it’s understandable if he did because he’s just a little boy but he had to be honest about it. Which of course, made Sarah Bernhardt rise from the dead. And so I got pissed. Because I paid the $60 that I didn’t have for these pictures and I told Chief, he could call her all he wants.. she’s not going to ‘fess up to it. Because she never does. But I will tell you one thing.. in a few days that picture is going mysteriously turn up.. or I’m going to hear, “oh.. I forgot!’ or “I didn’t know you were talking about THAT picture”. I’ll bet you any amount of money on that.
8. Supermarkets that tell you that you CANNOT get the free turkey that is owed you for spending over three hundred dollars on their discount card because you lost the receipt that says you are entitled to a free turkey because you spent over three hundred dollars on their discount card. Since my father in law is coming over for dinner Thursday, I need a fucking turkey. Because as un-traditional as Chief is.. he CAN’T have ham :: of which I have one frozen in the freezer :: on Thanksgiving. It HAS to be turkey. It’s the TRADITION. I rolled my eyes at him and said, “.. you’re fucking kidding me, right?” Which, of course, he wasn’t. So I drive over to the supermarket .. grab a frozen bird :: AND thinking that if any bird deserved to be frozen right then it was Chief’s :: and when I get to the counter I remember that I don’t have the coupon. Not only don’t I have the coupon but I realize that I have no clue where it’s at. No problem. I have my discount card on my keyring. So I run out to the car to get my keys :: yes, I put my keys in the glove box if I know I’m not going to need a damn discount card because I always lose them and my car has coded locks so it’s not like I’d be locked out. :: come back into the store only to have the cashier tell me that I need the coupon. UH-UH! I have the discount card. She says it doesn’t matter.. that she has to ring up the card along with the coupon and bedlam ensues. Because I want someone who gets paid more then the cashier does to tell me that my discount card is NOT good enough.. because if the damn card can tell them everything about everything I’ve purchased then why the hell can’t it tell them that I get a free turkey. But of course, this is the Tuesday before Thanksgiving and the crowd behind me is looking for things to impale me with so I told her that I would return tomorrow to speak with the manager. Then I went home and told Chief we were starting a new tradition and having ham, dammit.
9. Cats that chew on a ridiculously expensive pair of boots that have been stored in the deepest, darkest depth of my closet since last winter REALLY ANNOY me. I mean REALLY annoyed me. Annoyed me so much that I started to believe that the author of “Puss In Boots” had a cat that chewed on a ridiculously expensive pair of boots and made him pay for it dearly. Or maybe that’s what I was thinking when I found my boots were chewed. Hard to tell. I was annoyed.

Well.. I think y’all had enough of my ranting for now. I still have two hampers of laundry to fold and the laptop battery is running low.

Wish me a better day tomorrow.. either that, or send me a REALLY good recipe for spiked egg nog!

The Origins Of Spaz’s Odor

So yesterday was “catch-up-on-laundry” day. Chief and I wound up going to the same two flea markets that we went to last week and got some steals on some things he’s been wanting for the shop.

We got home around 1 and while he made lunch for me and Spaz, I started sorting.

I really don’t mind doing laundry. Oddly, I actually can say that I like it but there was so much to do that if I didn’t start early, I would be up all night.

I always make sure my first load of darks contain my work clothes, Chief’s clothes and the boys’ school clothes.. after that it’s the whatever stuff. Since the cold weather has finally left I wasn’t going to wash all the sweatshirts and hoodies :: from Spaz’ room :: until everything else was done.

I tell Spaz to get me the hamper in his room that has been sitting in there since Monday :: when I forced him to clean his room under the assumption that CYS was going to be called ::

NOTE: I wasn’t too concerned that they hadn’t been washed last week. I knew I was going to do everything on Sunday.. he had clean school clothes and I had just bought him more boxers so.. beats having a full hamper of disgusting clothes in the living room!

Anyway.. as I’m sorting through the hamper :: separating darks, whites and towels :: I pull out a pair of his boxers that almost made me hurl lunch all over the floor.

You know that old “survivalist” thing about turning your underwear around and then inside out in an emergency? Well.. let me tell you something.. those boxers were WAY BEYOND ANYTHING ACCEPTABLE!

Honestly, I was never SO appalled by anything SO disgusting before.

And there’s a part of me that feels like I should have been MORE on top of the underwear situation because every time I did laundry, there were no boxers to wash. And I told him that.. in front of Chief…

Since I had bought so many pairs for him in February, I actually assumed that he just shoved his dirty pair under his bed or in his closet or something.. NEVER thinking that he just wasn’t putting clean ones on. Bad enough, I know.. but after I would I say something about it, boxers would turn up in the laundry..

What was I to do? Smell them? What am I suppose to do with an almost-11 year old kid who isn’t my biological child when he gets out of the shower? Do I smell his hair? Yes. Do I smell the skin on his arms? Yes. Other then that, I guess I’ve become so accustomed to hearing horror stories that I don’t want to cross some invisible line that I don’t know about.

I will say that Chief is getting more involved.. and that’s a good thing. And Spaz, to give him credit, is being a lot more conscience… at least for now.

All I know for sure is that I make sure I check what pair of underwear is on his body when I leave in the morning and make sure his dirty pair are in the bathroom hamper after taking a shower.

But I mean, really. How gross can you get?