Showing posts from January, 2012

A Spicy Tweet

Ok, naive me was totally shocked to learn today that they actually pay celebraties to Tweet. And that most of the time, it is a ghost writer who creates the post. This is almost as shocking to me as the merkin. And if I stumble upon Demi's 911 call one more time, I am going to smoke whatever spice I have available in the cabinet (a little Mrs. Dash perhaps) or maybe attempt a whippit (although I'm sure all I will get is whip cream up my nose) just so I don't have to listen to the tape for the 100th time. Can we leave the poor woman alone already?

Does A Bear Sit In Stiffy's Bathroom?

Dear Stiffy, Thank you very much for letting me stay at your house last night. It was so nice to spend time with you and the boys. Your friendship is something Blondie and I treasure. When did you start collecting Kama Sutra bears? Lions and tigers and bears with erections, oh my. Oh I can hear you now. "CJ those are his arms!" Ummm Stiffy....I don't know any member of the animal kingdom that has arms originating from the crotch area. Don't worry. Your secret is safe with me. Sort of.

Whacha Eating?

Oh goody. I found a Yorkie brownie while re-arranging a blanket in one of the dog beds today. Before you all "ooooohhhhh" me, I had this in my hand before I actually knew its origin. It's not liked I picked up after I figured it out. This morning however, I had a treat that I look forward to every year - a paczki (pronounced poonch-key). I was so excited. These delicious stuffed donuts are only available for a few weeks each year. So when I called my niece Shannon to wish her a happy 36th birthday I had to rub it in. Me: Guess what I ate this morning? It's really yummy and it begins with a 'P'. Shannon: That's a bit personal, don't you think? Me: Not that! A paczki, a lemon filled paczki! Imagine. She thought I was eating pickles for breakfast. That's funny.

A Hairy Situation

I'd like to blog every day but funny doesn't happen all the time. And it rarely happens on this blog. Question of the week - Am I the only person in America who doesn't know what a merkin is? I was listening to a radio show on the way to work where a reference was made to a "pet merkin". I thought it is was something like a ferret. Oh sure, there are similarities, but they are definitely not one in the same. It's 9:30. I should be in bed and not sitting on the couch Googling merkin. You know, there is actually a vineyard by that name. Can you imagine the wine tastings? "Excuse me, but I think there is something floating in my drink." "Oh, yes, we know. 1992 was an especially good year for merkins. Slight acidity with just a hint of apricot and melon." See, I told you funny doesn't happen every day. Addendum: If my profile pic somehow gets associated with the search result for merkin (as it did for world's largest kielbasa) I'm d

We Need More Days Like This!

Is it just me or does anyone else find this commercial makes them smile? I think life should be about having more "WEEEEEEEE" days! Now go shake things up and have some fun today. That's an order!

Her Name Is What?

A picture of our good friend Stiffy came up during the photo viewing session mentioned in the previous post. Irene should probably consider wearing those hearing aids.........

Bowling Ball Portrait

I was showing Irene* some pictures in my phone this evening when I came across this one. The face has been blurred to protect the innocent. Anyway, Irene wanted to know why this person was standing between two bowling balls. I asked her to look closely. She mentioned bowling balls for a second time. After a few seconds she blurted out "Are those tits?!" Yes Irene, those would be them. *Irene is my 86 year old mother who resides (much to her chagrin) in a nursing home.

Driving, Driving, Driving Revisited Again

Just doing a little math here. If I spend an average of 3 hours a day commuting (not counting those occasional 3 hour one way hellacious trips) and I go into the office 4 days a week, that's 12 hours a week in the car. Multiplied by 4 weeks a month and that is 48 hours. Taking into account vacation, holidays, and personal time, I'll conservatively say I work 10 months a year. So ten months at 48 hours per month is 480 hours per year commuting. Considering I am actually awake and productive for about 15 hours a day, I waste 32 days a year sitting in the car (20 actual days if you want to count a day as a full 24 hours). That's fucking * crazy. Is it really worth it? *Removed gratuitous  profanity as I do not want readers to think I have a potty mouth.

Here and There

So if I was in my living room watching the game, how could I be at Gillette Stadium taking pictures of Tom Brady? I took the bottom picture of the television with my Canon camera. I wasn't wearing a vest or a hat. And I didn't have the black camera strap around my neck. But it is still weird.