What's better than Friday? A Friday before a holiday weekend, of course!
This week's frags are all about loafing husbands and comics that exploit them, auto-correct involving the word "dick", and menopause.
Did I have you at "loafer?"
How about "dick?"
No? Then take your grumpy self on over to someone else's blog.
No, don't. Please stay. Did I mention I'm menopausal? Mood swings, you know.
First, a happy dance to celebrate the long weekend:
Then a sample of what my happy dance actually looks like:
No, I mean it - I have no rhythm whatsoever. It's scary really.
Enough with the intros and confessions, let's move on to the frags.
Before menopause, my husband was always hot and I was always cold. Every room we'd sit in, he would turn on the fan, and I'd bitch and moan about how cold it was and move away to some corner where the fan didn't hit me and give him the stink-eye like this:
My how the tables have turned. We had this conversation the other day while we were watching TV:
Me (getting up to turn on the fan): Aren't you glad I'm in menopause?
Him: It's the gift that keeps on giving.
Me: In more ways than one.
Don't you love auto-correct? We have a customer at work, a business, called Dick W___. I can't say the business name, but why in the world would you have "Dick" in the name of your business? That's a topic for a whole 'nother frag, right there.
Anyway, I texted one of our managers, that I was mailing the check to Dick W___ and auto-correct changed the last name to Woe. Dick Woe. dick woe.
I busted up laughing at that one. I'm so glad I can amuse myself at work. I sent a follow up text that said "According to the commercials, there's a pill for that."
By the way, have you noticed how the Cialis and Viagra and other drug commercials don't call the dick woe disorder (I don't want to spell it here because god knows what search terms will bring people to this blog if I do) by it's name anymore, they just call it ED? I think they should just call it dick woe. DW. Yup. Putting that one in the suggestion box.
I've mentioned before how my sister is like Amelia Bedelia. She can do about anything, including fixing her own sprinklers when they break. I, on the other hand,
nag and whine and menace wait patiently for months for my hubby to fix our drippers and sprinklers in our yard. And we have a big yard and dogs, so there are always broken drippers and sprinklers needing repair. I finally got tired of waiting and asked my sis to show me how to do it my dang self.
So we turned on the sprinklers and walked around the yard looking for spraying water and leaks and made a list of what we needed from Home Depot to make the repairs. One particularly bad gusher was right next to the chair where hubby sits and plays Bad Piggies. He had put a rock over the broken line so it wouldn't interfere with his piggie tossing. And so I wouldn't see it.
But of course, we found it and moved the rock, knowing we were going to repair it the next day.
This all happened unbeknownst to loafing, piggie playing hubby. Here's a comic to demonstrate what happened:
I need to install a video camera to catch moments like these. I really do.
Scary, un-rhythmic, menopausal me, signing off.
(Oh, yeah, I'm a keeper)
Want to join in and post your own bits and pieces from the week? Link up at Half-Past 'Kissin Time and do share!