Sun Visor Design Flaw

I had some business out of town so I rented a car rather than put the miles on my own vehicle. About 30 minutes into my drive the sun peered through the clouds, impairing my vision. I leaned forward and then to the side in an attempt to find a spot where the sun wasn’t blinding me. No luck. So, I pulled down the sun visor. Bad idea. I had a better chance of seeing with the sun in my eyes. How could this visor be legal? Once I was able to pull over, I snapped this picture. LOL

IMG_1558

 

Embarrassing Autocorrects

I was having dinner with a few friends on Friday night and I asked one of them to help me identify a bird I had seen earlier in the week. She was a bird enthusiast and possessed a wealth of knowledge about local fowl.

“It was small and white,” I said. “Sort of like a compact duck.”

“All white?”

“With a black stripe on its face,” I replied.

“No clue. I’d google it.”

I retrieved my iPhone from my coat pocket and googled what I thought was white ducks of Rhode Island.

While I waited for my search results to appear, our waitress approached and leaned in to take my drink order. She stopped short, caught a glimpse of my phone’s screen and burst into an uncontrollable giggle. I looked down at my iPhone and was met with roughly a dozen images of penises in various states of repose.

My iPhone autocorrected duck to dick.

Normally, I would have felt the need to explain and thus dig a deeper hole but this time I looked directly at the waitress and said, “We’re trying to agree on my Timber profile pic. Did you happen to spot a favorite?”

Her response was priceless. “Dicks really aren’t my thing. I’m swiping left.”

 

 

 

Is It Okay to Discipline Someone Else’s Child?

nowirehangers

The picture will make more sense after you read the post:)

I was standing in a cashier line at a clothing retailer yesterday when I felt a sudden burst of taps against my butt. I turned around and looked down to find a child holding a metal clothes hanger. He was smacking the hanger against the accessory displays that lined the cashier aisle. I assumed the child had tapped me with the hanger. The child’s attention seemed to be directed elsewhere so I turned my own attention back to my iPhone while I waited. A minute later I felt a second round of taps against my butt. It was the same child.

I glanced around my immediate vicinity and noticed a young woman on the opposite side of the accessory display. An empty child stroller stood in front of her.

Ah ha. I found the mom.

“Excuse me, ma’am?” I said.

The woman looked at me.

“Is this your child?”

She looked at the boy for a second and then back at me. “Yeah, why?”

“He’s hitting me with a clothes hanger. Could you ask him to stop please?”

“He’s a child,” she replied.

“I’m well aware of that. That’s why I’m speaking to you.”

“What’s the issue here?”

“Normally I don’t mind being spanked on the ass but not by a 4 year-old kid. Can you retrieve him, please.”

The woman became defiant. “It’s a wire hanger. It won’t hurt anything. And in case you haven’t noticed, my son has developmental limitations. You can’t expect him to behave like other children.”

“I hadn’t noticed. In fact, the only developmental limitations I’ve observed are the ones being emitted from you.”

“What did you call me?”

“Nothing yet. But there’s still 9 people ahead of me so there’s plenty of time for me to test my vocabulary on you.”

“Why don’t you mind your own fucking business,” she snapped.

“I was until I had to defend my anal cavity from a coat hanger.”

“I don’t appreciate that vulgar language around my child.”

“You’re wearing a sweatshirt that reads I’m the Boss Bitch. You can stop playing the victim card.”

The kid must have been upset that I was in a verbal kerfuffle with his mom. He whacked me with the hanger again. This time on the knee.

I looked at the mom. “Pay attention if you want any prayer of being a decent mom.” I gently removed the hanger from the child’s hand and stared down at him.

“Kid, I’m going to give you likely the best advice you’ll receive in your life, apart from telling you to not grow up to be like your mom.”

I clenched the wire hanger in one hand and pursed my lips in my best Joan Crawford imitation. “NO.. WIRE… HANGERS!”

 

Christmas Dog Video

Our late Jack Russell Terrier, Sophie, loved Christmas and in particular Christmas gifts. It’s hard to put myself in her head but it appeared she assumed all of the gifts were hers. In fact, she would lurk under the tree from the moment it went up until Christmas morning protecting all of the gifts.

I came across this video and thought I’d share it. I miss her so much.

Funny Story About My Open Zipper

pants-unzipped

I walk into my local coffee shop this morning and the clerk greets me with a huge smile. This wasn’t terribly surprising as most days the clerks are cheerful but I don’t usually get a lot of attention.

The clerk stared at me for 10 long seconds before saying how wonderful the day was going and how she was super excited to take my order.She called two of her colleagues over to assist.

This gal is extra ordinarily attentive today.

“I’ll take the usual,” I said.

“Remind me, what size?”

“Large,” I replied.

“Hmm. Are you sure about that?” she asked.

“Yes, large.”

She and her colleagues giggle, one of whom was a guy.

Am I missing something?

“If you say so, Chief,” she replied.

I pay for my drink and turn to stroll toward the door when I notice my zipper is down. Like “open for business” down. Like “I’m so desperate I’m simply going to walk around town with my pants unzipped to see what happens” down. Like “this is my final cry for help” down.

Wait, what did she mean by “are you sure?” 

“I just want to point out that it’s cold outside,” I yelled toward the counter. “If I had known this was going to happen I would have prepared better. It’s definitely a large.”

Well, wouldn’t you know it. The three clerks who were laughing at me were gone and I realized I was now talking to a completely different group of clerks.

Awesome, so my fly is down and I’m talking gibberish to a bunch of strangers. 

I’m running out of places to shop. Seriously.

 

 

 

 

 

The Transgender Christmas Tree

Ahh, that time of the year again. Putting up the Christmas Tree. I can think of only one worse activity: Having my toenails gnawed off by a rabid honey badger.

Last night, we unpacked our first pre-lit tree. The first step was to locate the male and female receptors.

“Do you know what a female receptor is?” Pete asked.

“Is that a trick question?” I replied. I haven’t a clue what a female receptor is.

“What does one even look like?” Pete asked.

“I’m not an expert on this particular topic but I’m going to assume it will look like a cup or a chalice,” I replied. “I remember that from The Da Vinci Code.”

Thank God the 123-page instruction manual was illustrated.

“We’re missing a female receptor,” Pete said. “We have three males, one female.”

“That could be an interesting way to celebrate the holidays,” I replied.

Pete wasn’t amused. “Don’t be funny right now. Let’s focus on getting this tree up. I’m already stressed.”

“Do we really need both female receptors?” I asked.

Apparently that second female receptor is critical. “If I’m deciphering the pictures correctly, the second female receptor is what allows the tree to-,” Pete said before stopping abruptly. “Stand erect with substantial girth.” 

“We are putting a Christmas Tree up, right?” I asked Pete. He nodded. “Okay, let’s hop online and order a replacement piece.”

Note: I would not recommend typing “cheap female receptor” into your web browser. Trust me on this.

After nearly an hour of sifting through craigslist ads and invitations to join naughty webcam shows, we gave up. I had to down a shot of vodka immediately after closing the browser.

“I think we’ll need to improvise,” I said. “Hand me one of the male receptors.”

Pete threw a receptor to me and I spent a few minutes bending and twisting it. I curved the male receptor into a shape that came as close as possible to the one female receptor we had on hand.

“Let’s see if this works,” I said.

Pete and I lifted the base of the tree and slid the male receptor into our newly converted one.

“Okay, let go of the tree,” I said. Pete backed away and the tree stayed upright. “Oh my God. It worked. The lights are lit and everything!”

“Does this mean we have a transgender tree?” Pete asked.

“I guess I hadn’t really thought about it that way. But I believe it does.”

Pete stared at the tree for a minute and then raised his eyebrows. “Hmm. Okay. What’s for dinner. I’m starving.”