I heard a helicopter hovering. It kept coming closer and closer. The engine sounding louder and louder. OMG, it’s was dangerously close!!! Too close!!! Sweet Mother Fletcher!! I was ready to break out the machine gun… when I looked out the window… and that was when I saw… that ‘The Man’ was mowing the lawn.
I know, anti-climatic right?
Who doesn’t have a vivid imagination? Not me!
Watch for my upcoming novel in a book store near you. Yeah, on second thought, don’t hold your breath.
The neighbor’s dog is barking. The birds are chirping. So I guess those children’s books, about animals, were right. Yes, that’s exactly the sounds they make! So all those days and nights reading those stupid books paid off.
Thanks neighbor’s dog, for the early start to my day that I didn’t want. If I hadn’t read those little books, I might’ve mistaken you for an alarm clock or fire alert or something. Reading is fundamental.
Now, what day is it? Oh yeah, Happy Thursday. Happy, happy, Thursday.
Yes Joe. Here in Michigan we do things different. Like schedule softball games at 6 a.m. (Oh, but remember we have an hour on you!) Also, why are you wearing that shirt again? I told you I didn’t like it!!!
When guys throw their bat, kick the fence, smash their water bottle, jump on their batting glove and swear, because they popped out during a recreational league softball game, in front of a bleacher full of fans.
Really? Really buddy? Get a grip. I am embarrassed for your future wife that you will never have.
Oh, and I don’t like that shirt you wore last week. (you know the one)
I’m sure by now you all know about my stupid neighbors, The Dillweeds. (They’re the ones who went on vacation, for a week, and left their dog home alone.) They’re the one’s who live in a pretty nice neighborhood, but don’t feel the need to mow their lawn or trim their shrubs, or pull the 5 ft. weeds from the landscaping in the front of their house. They were voted, this year, by a panel of judges (me), as worst yard in the neighborhood. (i’m still working on the trophy: a golden broken weedwacker)
It’s been a couple years since the Dillweeds moved in, and I thought I’d pretty much seen it all. Welp, yesterday, as I gazed out my front window, I saw 6 or 7 large chickens mosey on by their back gate. CHICKENS!! Great big CHICKENS!! Now, I want you all to know that I am not a chicken hater. Bawk. Bawk. In fact, my biggest hope and dream is to finally, one day, have a chicken, on Farmlandia, named after me!! (but you have to remember, this is not Cary’s farm). We live in a subdivision on the outskirts of town. We are not rural. We are not agricultural. And it’s against the law. So now the Dillweeds are outlaws! Chicken breeding outlaws! Stupid, stupid, bawk, stupid. What’s next Dillweeds? Gonna get a cow?? How bout a llama??? (be back later, gotta go work on another trophy)
"Today is Friday, you know what that means? We’re gonna have a special guest!" (If you know what that little song is from, you’re way old!)
I don’t have any plans today, (Hell, i don’t have any plans everyday. Why should today be any different?) But ‘The Man’ has the afternoon off, so maybe we’ll build another closet. (hey, maybe I do have plans)
It’s a pretty decent day, weatherwise. (Weatherwise, now there’s a funny word. Let’s see what it looks like spelled with a z. Weatherwize. I like it better. A lot better.)
Why yes, I am pretty bored. Why do you ask?
FYI There is not going to be a special guest. (In case the suspense was killing you.) Everybody knows the special guest comes on Tuesday, not Friday. Get with the program!
I went outside early this morning. The air seemed different. A gentle breeze brushed over my face. It felt like it did when I was a kid on summer vacation. The smell, the warmth, it can only mean one thing: We’re going to have a mother-effin storm!!!
And you thought this was going to be one of those touchy, feely, posts. Didn’t you? Bahaha. Happy Thursday.
If you scream the entire time you are in the pool, nobody is going to come save you when you are really in danger. Hell, who am I kidding. Nobody’s gonna come either way. You’re out there unattended. You’re screwed.
The Lady Next Door Who Wants You To Shut The Fuck UP!
That thing where you walk every morning and you’re pretty sure that your girlfriend told you that she couldn’t walk this morning, but you’re not entirely sure, so you get ready anyway? Well, yeah, she didn’t come. Anybody want to walk?
That thing where you split your thumbnail down low, where thumb nails should never split, and you have to cut it, and the only pair of fingernail clippers you can find are the worst ones to ever inhabit this planet. Seriously, I could’ve done better with a paring knife. Manicure anybody??
That thing where you take a bite of your protein bar, when you’d really rather have bacon and eggs, and it’s stale. IT’S STALE? It’s hermetically sealed, how can it be stale??? Breakfast anyone?
That thing where you see the trash man leave his work buddy standing stranded with a bag of trash as he pulls away. Hey, come back and get him! I don’t want to look at that for another week. Wait, stranded guy, come here. Do you want a stale protein bar or your fingernails cut?? Maybe you’d like to go for a walk? I’m all ready!
'The Daughter' will be staying with us, one week out of the month, for the next year. In preparation for her arrival we are making a Closet Room, in the basement, to accomodate her mass quantities of clothing.
There was a bed in the now Closet Room. I decided we should move that bed up to her old room because it was a newer mattress and box springs than the piece of crap one that was currently in her old room. Moving, lifting, moaning and groaning, and a little sweat ensued.
I slept on the mattress last night to test it out. Guess which one was way more comfortable?? (yes, that would be the old, junky looking one)
So we’re posting about our dads? He was only on this earth for 13 years of my life. The last 2 of those years he was gravely ill. But still he was one of the greatest guys I ever knew and I’ll hold him in my heart forever.
He was my dad. Father of eight. Happy Father’s Day!!
In a few weeks we will be moving the daughter out of her apartment in Chicago. The particular building she lives in, apparently charges a “moving out” fee. They aren’t going to do anything for us, like help carry the stuff out, or rub my back when it hurts. We just have to give them quite a large amount of money, because we’re moving her stuff out of their building.
So we will pay the movers, because they are moving stuff. We will pay to get the pristine clean carpets cleaned, because it is in the rental agreement. We will pay for storage (because she will be out of the country for a year) and storage places always charge to keep your stuff. (That’s how they make their money.) And finally, we will pay a big fat “moving out fee”, to the apartment complex because, I dunno, maybe one of their people might have to buy a coffee or two while they watch us move our stuff out of their building. Or, who knows, maybe they’ll even have to hold the door a time or two. Or maybe they’re throwing a fancy party after we leave. Either way, WTF!! I hope their party sucks!!!
Today we’re getting the new garage door opener installed!! (repeat sentence here) Do you know what this means? (repeat sentence here)
This means: new remotes that you don’t have to push 9 times to make the door somewhat move. This means: a touchpad outside, baby, so you never have to worry about not having your key with you ever again. This means: that the cars can once again reside inside the garage. This also means: that the current antique beast carcass of our old opener will be removed from the ceiling and replaced by a George Jetson, space age looking, shiny, new, (still quite ugly, in my opinion) with two lights, no less, awesome sauce opener will grace the space. Oh! And it’s whisper quite. So we’ll never again have to worry about waking the other cars when we leave.
Guys, I think I’m a little bit more excited, about this, than I should be!! (and I don’t care) It’s a big day at Casa de Jeannie! (repeat sentence here)
Why is it that flavored coffees never taste like the flavor on the box. This does not taste like a chocolate covered raspberry truffle. (not even close)
Where do those squirrels, who jump like their feet are on fire, come from? (i bet they could totally walk on fire)
Why do the neighbors still have a truck that sounds like a scud missile? Why? Why? Whyyyyy? (in my best Nancy Carrigan voice)
Why do the birds always poop on the pool railing? (probly because we never got Bird Poopin Porta-Pottys installed. Meh, maybe next year) Don’t pee on our OOL!!
Why is it that whenever somebody walks down the street, I’m standing at the front door drinking coffee? (because I’m always standing at the front door drinking coffee. The view is best there. What can I say?)
Why is dinner going to be the best ever tonight? Because I’m not going to be the one cooking it. We’re going to a graduation Open House. (and suddenly my day just got better)
Hey, you want a chocolate covered raspberry whatever whatever coffee? It tastes nothing like it. You’re gonna love it.
Few things make me happier than a good cup of coffee.(J/K, it’s only coffee) But, thank-you anyways, Gloria Jean, for making butter toffee coffee. (Try saying that 10 times)
'The Boy' has left every light on, in the house, and half the cupboard doors open. (Looks like we're making progress. Normally all the cupboard doors are open.) It's the little things people. The little things.
The “After Funeral Reception” food makes you gain 3 pounds. (The thing is, it wasn’t even that good, and I dropped my cupcake on the floor, so WTF?) It must’ve been those 500 beers I drank Monday night. Oh yeah, and that big plate of nachos…oh shut up!
The Dillweeds (aka the worst neighbors in the world) are going on vacation soon. I know this because they pulled their trailer out of their weed patch of a yard, and put it in their driveway. (I’m so excited. Come on, let’s do the wave!! Aw, come on!!)
Today, if it doesn’t snow, I’m going to go hang out by the pool. Feel free to join me, but don’t forget your snow suit.
If you can tell what day it is, by the number of empty keurig coffee pods, on the counter,..you would be me. Happy 5 empty containers day. (that would make it Friday) No, YOU throw them away. I’m busy.
And now here’s a little homeowner’s story for you: Our garage door opener is the one that came with the house. (The house was built in the 60’s.) It is an ironclad beast. The remotes look like they were made by Fred Flintstone (they look so bad that ‘The Boy’ declined to carry one in his car, for fear his friends would see it and start calling him BamBam.) Yesterday the garage door opener expired. RIP ironclad beast. I am secretly excited to see what new modern day garage door opener remotes look like. I hope they’re bedazzled and have neon lights!! OMG! OMG! Should I really be this excited?!
And now previews from my next posting: It was a pretty nice neighborhood. A neighborhood where everybody did their part to make sure their yards looked good…that is, until,….THEY moved in.