Morning boys and girls. I will skip the humor today because this is going to be a rant. Have any of you noticed how bad drivers have been lately? I have been shocked at how careless and thoughtless drivers are whenever I go out. Yesterday I watched a tiny car that sounded like a lawn mower pass four cars at once on a double yellow, and the four were already going about ten over the speed limit. In the last four months I have seen three cars make a left turn on a red. Seriously guys? Right on a red is legal (if nothing is coming-alot of jerks forget that part). How about turn signals? Just for fun a few weeks ago I counted how many cars I saw turn and how many used their signals. Know what the totals were? 37 turns. 20 used their signals. I live across the street from a small Christian school. One of the most dangerous times for me to try to get out of my driveway is when they are dropping their kids off in the morning. What I see is; 75% of the mothers are talking on their phones, a bit more than half use any turn signals and almost all are apparently very late for something far more important than being courteous and safe. How about someone in a parking lot blocking the entire aisle because they saw someone get in their car and they want that parking spot. No matter that there are 300 spots only a few spaces away. And if you live around me,and there are alot of Amish may I remind you of two things. They are driving horses, not the calmest and brightest of animals out there. Give them a bit of space and just because the buggy is in your lane and you have to slow down, it is NOT OK TO PASS IT WHEN THERE ARE CARS IN THE OTHER LANE!!!! One other Amish related rant- Amish taxis. Now I am all for the Amish hiring van drivers to take them shopping. It is far safer for them than dodging the crazy cars while in a buggy, but!!! If you are a taxi driver and you have a handicap sticker, yes, it is legal for you to park in the handicap spots, but if you are not getting out and you are just going to take up one of the few handicapped spots and smoke your cigarettes while the able bodied amish are shopping, move for crying out loud and let someone who needs the space have it.
Now the reason for my rant today. I had to run to the grocery store. It's 15 minutes from my house. Sat at the stop sign on my corner waiting for a car to pass. At the last minute they turned, no signal of course. In town someone backed out in front of me, I had to slam the brakes. Got to the store and got my things. At the light waiting to pull out of the parking lot, my right turn signal on. The light turns green and I begin my turn and the woman across from me made a left turn while I was actually turning, cut me off, blew her horn at me and flicked me off. How dare I have the right of way and try to turn legally on my green light. A bit further down the road I saw a van start to come over into my lane. I tapped my horn and when he continued into my lane I blew my horn more frantically. He did not so much as glance in my direction. He was driving around a puddle in the road. He never slowed or glanced in my direction as he made sure he did not splash water on his dirty, rusty 15 year old van while I did a frantic bit of maneuvering to avoid hitting the telephone pole and stay out of the ditch off the berm. Made it back to my village and almost got rear ended when I slowed down to the village speed limit. That earned me a finger salute. Truck ahead of me pulling an extra long horse trailer ran the stop sign forcing two cars already on the road to come to a full stop. When I slowed (with turn signals on) to make the turn down my road I was again almost rear ended by the same car that almost hit me before. This one ended with them skidding to a stop half off the road, That one earned me a blast of their horn and another salute. And the sad thing is, that kind of shopping trip is not unusual.
No more ranting now. I started to think about those people who don't put their shopping carts in the cart return. Now that R-E-A-L-L-Y makes me mad!
Friday, March 29, 2013
Wednesday, March 27, 2013
Don't mess with a grandma
A new Wendy's opened up not too far from home. My friends, Mary and Cindy, and I decided to have lunch there. We had only just arrived and gotten in line to order when a man stormed up to the counter shoving people out of his way and swearing loudly. Apparently he had gotten his burger with catsup and he had ordered it without. Now this does not seem to me to be a problem of epic proportions. Just ask for a new burger. He, however, felt that they had put the catsup on in a dastardly attempt to ruin his lunch. The little girl working the counter looked about to cry but she bravely faced him and said she would get him a new burger. She took the offending sandwich away and returned a few moments later with a new one. He did not thank her. Instead he swore at her. The line began to move forward again but suddenly the irate man was back.
"This >?#%%ing burger #%#$#ing tastes *##$^ing terrible. You #%#ing blanks didn't make a new burger you just ##^!!#ing wiped the ""@#^$ing catsup off."
At this point the manager made an appearance. He assured the man that it was a new sandwich and he offered to refund his money if he wasn't satisfied. Instead of taking the refund or a new sandwich the man just continued to curse until he ran out of steam them threw the burger at the poor girl behind the counter and stormed out. We were all relieved but it was short lived. A few moments later he slammed back in and resumed cursing. Apparently catsup on a sandwich was the worst thing that had ever happened to him. The restaurant was full of people. At least ten adult men were in there. There were multiple tables with children. I had had enough.
"Knock it off. We all know you didn't like your sandwich. Now shut up and leave. There are children here and they don't need to hear any more of your foul mouth."
If he was mad before it was nothing compared to now with me telling him to shut up. I wondered idly if he would actually explode. His eyes were bulging out, the whites reddening.His skin turned purple with red blotches. He took a step towards me, spittle flying out of his mouth.
"How dare you....you.... you...." He could hardly spit out the words "You... you.... you're fat!"
"Seriously dude? Ten minutes of vulgar profanity and that's the best you can do?" I laughed at him.
He took another step towards me and I began to smile. I felt my wing men (Mary and Cindy) move up on either side of me. "Bring it on "I thought. I knew they were smiling too. It was at that moment the men in the restaurant finally decided to act. I guess it hadn't bothered them that he had screamed at the poor counter girl. It hadn't bothered them that he had probably taught the children an entire new vocabulary, but it seems they didn't want him attacking a sweet old lady like myself.
They moved to eject him and he gave up, spitting at me his parting curse, "You're still fat"
What the men didn't know was that they needn't have worried about my friends and me. They might have been able to throw the guy out, but we could have turned the sucker into a human pretzel. I am a black belt in karate and my friends advanced karate students and we had just come from a work out at our dojo. We really wanted to try those throws we had just been working.
This is just a cautionary tale. Remember next time you are out and want to throw a temper tantrum. Beware sweet little old ladies. We might surprise you.
"This >?#%%ing burger #%#$#ing tastes *##$^ing terrible. You #%#ing blanks didn't make a new burger you just ##^!!#ing wiped the ""@#^$ing catsup off."
At this point the manager made an appearance. He assured the man that it was a new sandwich and he offered to refund his money if he wasn't satisfied. Instead of taking the refund or a new sandwich the man just continued to curse until he ran out of steam them threw the burger at the poor girl behind the counter and stormed out. We were all relieved but it was short lived. A few moments later he slammed back in and resumed cursing. Apparently catsup on a sandwich was the worst thing that had ever happened to him. The restaurant was full of people. At least ten adult men were in there. There were multiple tables with children. I had had enough.
"Knock it off. We all know you didn't like your sandwich. Now shut up and leave. There are children here and they don't need to hear any more of your foul mouth."
If he was mad before it was nothing compared to now with me telling him to shut up. I wondered idly if he would actually explode. His eyes were bulging out, the whites reddening.His skin turned purple with red blotches. He took a step towards me, spittle flying out of his mouth.
"How dare you....you.... you...." He could hardly spit out the words "You... you.... you're fat!"
"Seriously dude? Ten minutes of vulgar profanity and that's the best you can do?" I laughed at him.
He took another step towards me and I began to smile. I felt my wing men (Mary and Cindy) move up on either side of me. "Bring it on "I thought. I knew they were smiling too. It was at that moment the men in the restaurant finally decided to act. I guess it hadn't bothered them that he had screamed at the poor counter girl. It hadn't bothered them that he had probably taught the children an entire new vocabulary, but it seems they didn't want him attacking a sweet old lady like myself.
They moved to eject him and he gave up, spitting at me his parting curse, "You're still fat"
What the men didn't know was that they needn't have worried about my friends and me. They might have been able to throw the guy out, but we could have turned the sucker into a human pretzel. I am a black belt in karate and my friends advanced karate students and we had just come from a work out at our dojo. We really wanted to try those throws we had just been working.
This is just a cautionary tale. Remember next time you are out and want to throw a temper tantrum. Beware sweet little old ladies. We might surprise you.
Jack -up date
Our dog Lily was such a wonderful girl it is easy to forget what she was like as a pup. The name Lily was chosen because I could see that she would grow into a big girl with a Rottie shaped head. I wanted her name to be gentle and friendly sounding. It suited her because everywhere we went people would just smile and pet her and even hug her. I remember one stranger, a college student who knelt in front of her and gave her a big hug. He then smiled and grabbed a handful of skin on both sides of her and jiggled her "fluffiness". "Love the sophisticated heat retention system!" he laughed as her fat wiggled. Can't imagine too many dogs would allow that from strangers, but Our Lily just gave him a big wet kiss. Good girl. But..........
We called her Lily-Gator at home. She was the mouthiest pup I had ever met. All pups nip and chew until you teach them that fingers and toes are not chew toys but Lily was a bit resistant to that training. She bit and chewed and gnawed everything! - our fingers, our toes, pant cuffs, hems of nightgowns, slippers, shoes,glasses, books, furniture, walls, and when she, did those baby jaws snapped shut with a loud sound much like a twenty foot gator snapping its jaws. Thus, Lily -Gator. She remodeled the legs of chairs and ate through the cross bar of the coffee table.
She also had a wicked sense of humor. I like to teach a dog to come by making a game of it. My daughter and I were sitting across the living room calling Lily back and forth .Lily was around seven months old and already 70 pounds. As soon as one of us got her and gave her a vigorous head rub, the other would call and she'd turn and run back. I had just called her and as she turned towards me I saw a twinkle in her eye and I had just a second to think oh,oh when she launched herself and jumped across the room and into my lap. OOF! Fiona laughed and called "Good one Lily-Gator" and Lily turned her head and with a big doggy grin launched off my stomach across the room and hit Fiona hard enough the chair moved back. I heard a groan mixed with laughter from my daughter buried under 70 pounds of happy dog. That was our Lily.
Jack is showing signs that he might be following in her paw prints. Four days and I have lost my slippers to puppy teeth, my boots are slightly modified and there is a noticeable dent in the cross bar of the coffee table. I was lying on the couch reading. Jack was on the couch as well. I noticed him crawl onto the arm of the couch but didn't think much about it when OOF! He had launched his six week 12 pound body directly onto my stomach! Somewhere I think Lily just said "good one Jack!"
We called her Lily-Gator at home. She was the mouthiest pup I had ever met. All pups nip and chew until you teach them that fingers and toes are not chew toys but Lily was a bit resistant to that training. She bit and chewed and gnawed everything! - our fingers, our toes, pant cuffs, hems of nightgowns, slippers, shoes,glasses, books, furniture, walls, and when she, did those baby jaws snapped shut with a loud sound much like a twenty foot gator snapping its jaws. Thus, Lily -Gator. She remodeled the legs of chairs and ate through the cross bar of the coffee table.
She also had a wicked sense of humor. I like to teach a dog to come by making a game of it. My daughter and I were sitting across the living room calling Lily back and forth .Lily was around seven months old and already 70 pounds. As soon as one of us got her and gave her a vigorous head rub, the other would call and she'd turn and run back. I had just called her and as she turned towards me I saw a twinkle in her eye and I had just a second to think oh,oh when she launched herself and jumped across the room and into my lap. OOF! Fiona laughed and called "Good one Lily-Gator" and Lily turned her head and with a big doggy grin launched off my stomach across the room and hit Fiona hard enough the chair moved back. I heard a groan mixed with laughter from my daughter buried under 70 pounds of happy dog. That was our Lily.
Jack is showing signs that he might be following in her paw prints. Four days and I have lost my slippers to puppy teeth, my boots are slightly modified and there is a noticeable dent in the cross bar of the coffee table. I was lying on the couch reading. Jack was on the couch as well. I noticed him crawl onto the arm of the couch but didn't think much about it when OOF! He had launched his six week 12 pound body directly onto my stomach! Somewhere I think Lily just said "good one Jack!"
Tuesday, March 26, 2013
Hi-Jack
Recently got a new puppy. I know, I know, I did not need another dog, but I've spent the eight years since we lost our Lily looking for the same mix. Lily was the most joyous dog I've ever know, stubborn, loving, smart and very, very happy. I know quite well that you cannot replace a dog. They are all one of a kind, but I had hoped to find the same mix again and maybe get a similar temperment. She was amish raised and so was very well exposed to children and I also wanted that. I saw an add, lab/rottweiler, so I went to look. Great pups, all male, so I wouldn't compare one too much to Lily, but they wanted money for the pups. It wasn't much but more than I had, which was zero, so I returned home without a pup, but they called me an hour later and made me an offer I couldn't refuse. Free. My pup had jumped up from the pile of his brothers and come straight to me. When I picked him up I just knew his name was Jack. On my return home I introduced him to Brian who said dryly, "Really Mom? Jack?. You going to yell at him to get off the furniture? Jack ..ff?" What! Brian ruined his name, but this pup was Jack. I tried Jake but it just wasn't him. He is Jack, but there are so many things that go with Jack. If I say Hi, Jack while outside will people think I am trying to steal their car? Give it a try yourself, Jack goes with many things, but it is really wierd now to call my dog gang into the house after they have been playing outside. I open the door and call, Frisbee, Aimee, BellPepperJack!
Flight Security
My daughter Fiona and her husband Paul are flying Ron and I to Scotland to visit them in September. Though that is six months away I have my suitcase out and partly packed already. Not going to take too much over, their christmas presents and a limited wardrobe for the trip. Have to leave room for the Scottish yarn I will no doubt be bringing back! Clearly I am excited to be going but there is one part I really hate.....security. I have numerous metallic body parts.Guess I am a sort of bionic woman, only I can't run fast or jump buildings or any of that. No, my metal infrastructure simply is to set off security alarms. Dr even gave me a cute little laminated card that informs the airport that I have knee replacements. Does that help anything? No.No No. I am quickly pulled aside for the safety of the other travelers. Really would hate to scare the bored businessman and the sleepy college students and the furtive terrorists.
On prior trips I chose the full body scan. Just step in the booth and be irradiated. Who cares if I will glow in the dark if I travel too much. But, alas, most airports do not have scanners. What they do have are female security guards. These women snap on their rubber gloves loudly. They no not smile. They do not have a sense of humor.They do have huge breasts. You heard me, they have huge breasts. Normally this is not a problem. I rarely notice other women's breasts, but these women are really big breasted and apparently the airport approved method of a security pat down involves the guard to stand facing the terorist threat face to face, steely eyes boring into the eyes of the dangerous grandmothers. They pat down my arms.They squeeze my waist. They lift and fondle my breasts (obviously under my aa cup boobs I have tried to hide my shotgun). They go up and down my legs then between my legs while never breaking eye contact. Then the back must be checked. Wouldn't you think they would just ask you to turn around? No they take a step closer. Did I mention that all these big breasted women are rather short with correspondingly short arms? They then reach around me from the front to pat down my back, massive mammary glands squished against me as they stretch to reach mid-back. If I was any shorter myself I might be smothered by those giant mamas. This is the point where I learned that they do not have any sense of humor. At Heathrow I made kissy sounds and asked her if it was good for her too. Do not attempt to do this if you are so fondled, er frisked. They will call more guards. These will be large men. I repeat. Make no attempt at humor.
In September I vow to make no cute comments while beeing fondled but I was wondering how it would go over if I taped a valentine card to my back for my frisker to find. What do you think?
On prior trips I chose the full body scan. Just step in the booth and be irradiated. Who cares if I will glow in the dark if I travel too much. But, alas, most airports do not have scanners. What they do have are female security guards. These women snap on their rubber gloves loudly. They no not smile. They do not have a sense of humor.They do have huge breasts. You heard me, they have huge breasts. Normally this is not a problem. I rarely notice other women's breasts, but these women are really big breasted and apparently the airport approved method of a security pat down involves the guard to stand facing the terorist threat face to face, steely eyes boring into the eyes of the dangerous grandmothers. They pat down my arms.They squeeze my waist. They lift and fondle my breasts (obviously under my aa cup boobs I have tried to hide my shotgun). They go up and down my legs then between my legs while never breaking eye contact. Then the back must be checked. Wouldn't you think they would just ask you to turn around? No they take a step closer. Did I mention that all these big breasted women are rather short with correspondingly short arms? They then reach around me from the front to pat down my back, massive mammary glands squished against me as they stretch to reach mid-back. If I was any shorter myself I might be smothered by those giant mamas. This is the point where I learned that they do not have any sense of humor. At Heathrow I made kissy sounds and asked her if it was good for her too. Do not attempt to do this if you are so fondled, er frisked. They will call more guards. These will be large men. I repeat. Make no attempt at humor.
In September I vow to make no cute comments while beeing fondled but I was wondering how it would go over if I taped a valentine card to my back for my frisker to find. What do you think?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)