Motherhood in the Animal Kingdom

I got this email today, and laughed SO HARD. It was sent to me by a co-worker, and no, I didn't make this up.

The Ocean

The riverbank

India

The Arctic

Africa

And finally, near a WalMart, somewhere in Montana

Curtain Rods

On the first day, she sadly packed her belongings into boxes, crates and suitcases.

On the second day, she had the movers come and collect her things.

On the third day, she sat down for the last time at their beautiful dining-room table, by candle-light; she put on some soft background music, and feasted on a pound of shrimp, a jar of caviar,and a bottle of spring-water.

When she'd finished, she went into each and every room and deposited a few half-eaten shrimps dipped in caviar into the hollow center of the curtain rods.

She then cleaned up the kitchen and left.

On the fourth day, the husband came back with his new girlfriend, and at first all was bliss.

Then, slowly, the house began to smell.

They tried everything; cleaning, mopping, and airing-out the place.

Vents were checked for dead rodents, and carpets were steam cleaned.

Air fresheners were hung everywhere. Exterminators were brought in to set off gas canisters, during which time the two had to move out for a few days, and in the end they even paid to replace the expensive wool carpeting. Nothing worked!

People stopped coming over to visit.

Repairmen refused to work in the house.

The maid quit.

Finally, they couldn't take the stench any longer, and decided they had to move, but a month later - even though they'd cut their price in half - they couldn't find a buyer for such a stinky house.

Word got out, and eventually even the local realtors refused to return their calls.

Finally, unable to wait any longer for a purchaser, they had to borrow a huge sum of money from the bank to purchase a new place.

Then the ex-wife called the man and asked how things were going. He told her the saga of the rotting house. She listened politely and said that she missed her old home terribly and would be willing to reduce her divorce settlement in exchange for having the house.

Knowing she could have no idea how bad the smell really was, he agreed on a price that was only 1/10 th of what the house had been worth ... but only if she would sign the papers that very day.

She agreed, and within two hours his lawyers delivered the completed paperwork.

A week later the man and his girlfriend stood smiling as they watched the moving company pack everything to take to their new home . . .

. . . and to spite the ex-wife, they even took the the curtain rods!


I LOVE A HAPPY ENDING, DON'T YOU?

Not Sunday Appropriate, But I Could NOT Stop Laughing

Priceless

So remember when I entered this contest on Crystal's review blog and I won? I got the package today. Well, more specifically, the mail lady got the package already, and I picked it up today. First, this is how the conversation went when I went in to get my mail:

Me: Anything in the back for me? We've been out of town for the weekend.

Mail Lady: If you do, there will be a slip in your box.

Me: Yes, right here.

ML (coming from the back with a little white package in her hand): So . . . um . . what is Mcknob.com?

Me: It's a website of a friend of mine. I love her to death.

ML: She's a friend of yours? Have you seen that website? Because I looked it up. It's, um, racy. Yeah, really racy.

Me (snickering): Oh, yeah, I've seen the site. This package is from there. I won a contest she had on her blog.

ML: Oh, really? A contest?

(She starts eye balling the package, and I tighten my hold on it.)

Me: Yep. She's such a sweetheart. She'd do anything for anybody.

ML: So . . . What's in the package? I'm dying to know.

Me (holding in my laughter): Oh, well, knowing her, it's something I should open in the privacy of my own home.

The ML slips a hand over her mouth and disappears into the back as if it will make her broken little world right again. The poor, corrupted woman. She's scarred for life.



So, without further adieu, I present to you, The Package.


Inside The Package, were three interesting little gifts.
There was a little card

A lip balm
And, well, my goodness gracious, I believe this is a diaper


Now what in the world will we find inside the diaper? Don't we all want to know?

It's the very prizes that I won in the contest. Thanks Crystal! These fun little jars will be going to my best friend (who just so happens to also be named Crystal). She is due to have her second baby next month. And I know she will appreciate these, because her first one gave her so many problems nursing the baby weaned herself at four months! But I am going to selfishly keep the Better Than Average Lip Balm all to myself. That stuff is great! It went on smooth as silk, doesn't feel waxy at all, and it doesn't taste bad. The best part? The outside says Thank You, so the lip balm itself thanks me for using it every single time.Yep, I'm in love. Oh, the appreciation I've been missing all my life. And it's all thanks to Crystal.

November ROFL Awards

Metro Mama and Mrs Chicky are presenting the November ROFL Awards. Yay for humor!



I have nominated my friend Dawg for his Phone Conversation post.

You can visit Metro Mama or Mrs Chicky to see the rest of the awards. Enjoy!

Ahhhhhhhh

There's something wrong with my tongue. Okay quit laughing at me and listen. The right side on my tongue hurts. It feels huge. You know when you finish at the dentist and your tongue feels bigger than your mouth? That's what my tongue feels like. At first I thought it was a sore throat, because it hurts all the back at my throat. But I have identified the pain as the very back on my mouth on my tongue. So I took a flashlight into the bathroom and said Ahhhhhhh and moved my tongue around and twisted this way and that (stop laughing before you fall off your chair) and nothing looked unusual. It looked like a mouth, with a tongue, and a hangy-thingy (stop laughing!) and tonsils, and a throat. No bumps, no spots, no nothing. So now what? It's gotten worse all day today. I'm thinking I will see how I feel after I sleep, and if it isn't gone in a few days, or gets so bad I really can't swallow at all, I will go see the dentist. Or maybe I should see the doctor. . .

Sniff, Sniff. No Way.

Sitting at my computer, minding my own business, playing my game. Hubby is next to me, playing the same game. Naala is attempting- again- to get to my ice cream bowl. Sarabi had just jumped into Hubby's lap and was settling down.

Hmmm, something isn't right.

Me: sniff, sniff

Him: sniff, sniff

Me: sniff, sniff "Um, Babe?:

Him: "It wasn't me. It was Sarabi."

Me: "Yes, I know it was Sarabi. That's not the problem."

Him: "What's the problem?"

Me: "Why is it here, and not in the bathroom?"

Him: "I don't know. Is it under the bed?"

Me: "I don't know. She's your cat. Why don't you look?"

Him: "Because you are on the outside, and I would have to crawl over you to get out."

Me: "Oh."

So I get out of my chair and begin the search. Since I enjoy giving them the benefit of the doubt, and simply closing the door until the litter box no longer becomes lethal, I start with the bathroom.

Me: "It's not in the box, Babe."

Him: "That's not good. Are you sure?"

Me: "Well I didn't exactly dig around in it."

I grab a flashlight, and begin looking under the beds.

Me: "It's not under this one. And not under this one either."

Him: "I don't know if she actually pooped. It might have just been a fart."

Me: "First of all, something that toxic should not be in an animal that small. It could kill her. Second, she was standing on the back of your chair. That means she would have placed her little rear end as close to us as she could have gotten it, before releasing her deadly gift. She's a cat, I don't know that she is that intelligent."

I am now searching under chairs, tables, behind couches, ect. And still no proof that what we are smelling really exists.

Him: "I really think she just farted."

Me: "You're crazy."

Him: "Maybe. But you know I'm right."

The search ended there.

Him: "Maybe she's mad because we won't share our ice cream with her."

Me: "Maybe I should take her to a vet. That's just not normal."

Hubby's little SBD kitten is now sleeping like an angel ever so peacefully on the couch. Far away from the gift she left us.

Medical attention

What's the difference between me and Crystal? Who the heck knows, but she is funny as all get out. Every single time I read her blog (which is mentioned several times in previous entries) I end up in pain from laughing so hard. My husband is about ready to purchase his own set of medical supplies so he can be ready when I hurt something from falling off the couch laughing or get a headache from crying because I'm laughing. I'm not all the way through her archives, because I have to stop for sanity breaks. My face hurts, my stomach hurts, even my PRIDE hurts after reading some of that stuff! I am on the look-out for humorous blogs, since I am trying to get more fun and laughter and enjoyment in my life- Hubby says I am too serious- but nothing has even come close.
Back to my question- what is the difference between me and Crystal. I don't to copy cat her blog, but I am definitely going to do my best to be more free in my writing and laugh a little more.

Seeing Eye Dog

A man goes to a bar with his dog. He goes up to the bar and asks for a drink. The bartender says "You can't bring that dog in here!" The guy, without missing a beat, says "This is my seeing-eye dog." "Oh man, " the bartender says, "I'm sorry, here, the first one's on me." The man takes his drink and goes to a table near the door.

Another guy walks in the bar with a Chihuahua. The first guys sees him, stops him and says "You can't bring that dog in here unless you tell him it's a seeing-eye dog." The second man graciously thanks the first man and continues to the bar. He asks for a drink. The bartender says "Hey, you can't bring that dog in here!"

The second man replies "This is my seeing-eye dog." The bartender says, "No, I don't think so. They do not have Chiwauas as seeing-eye dogs." The man pauses for a half-second and replies "What?!?! They gave me a Chihuahua?!?"

Breathe. Wipe the tears away, and breathe

Yes, I am crying. I am laying (kind of) on the couch next to my husband, and tears are streaming down my face. I am holding my stomach because it hurts so bad. And I am trying not to fall off the couch. I cannot stop. . . laughing! Check THIS out. (Language is adult. Do not read out loud or to children.)