Hot Deals on Cool Wheels

I wish I had a dollar for every person who's asked me why I have a friggin' Mercedes parked in my yard. I wouldn't have enough money to buy my younger brother's piece of crap car, but I'd probably be able to buy it a tune-up.

The odd thing is that he had it listed in the Boise newspaper for 2 weeks and didn't get a single phone call. He's had it parked at Cascade European Car Sales (aka, my yard) for 36 hours and someone wants to look at it.

I think the tall dandelions really set it off to a good advantage.

Hrm...

Maybe you've already heard about it, but the latest scuttle-butt to hit both the blog world and Hollywood (okay, perhaps the only scuttle-butt that has ever tied those two things together) is "Rance", a guy who may or may not be a famous Hollywood actor.

Hollywood is abuzz with speculation. Could he be Owen Wilson? Jim Carrey? Ben Affleck? As far as I am concerned, nothing matters but the fact that this bastard is getting like 200 comments per post. Me? I get a couple. Have I forgotten to mention that I'm actually Catherine Zeta-Jones?

Phew

Don't let anyone ever tell you that you can't burn something in a crock pot. That would be a lie.

*opens windows, fans smell of burnt meat outside*

'Allo?

No one is reading blogs on Memorial Day weekend, right?

Did You Know?

I just finished reading an article in the latest issue of National Geographic Adventure. It told of the struggle of 38 Jews living in the Ukraine during the Holocaust. Their area was declared "juden-frei," or free of Jews, by the Nazis. They escaped by hiding themselves in what is probably the world's 10th largest cave called the Priest's Grotto. They stayed underground for 344 days straight, with only a few of them leaving occasionally at night to forage for supplies.

Pick up this issue and read it if you get a chance. It's a fascinating story of how one extended family survived a horrible experience. For more information, you can read an interview with one of the cavers who returned to the site, Chris Nicola, at the National Geographic Adventure website.

I Shoulda Drowned Him

We had lunch with my little brother today. He's four years younger than I am and from an entirely different planet. He and I generally avoid each other, but I needed to collect some money from him because we're going in together on a Father's Day present for my dad. He asked if we wanted to meet him for lunch (we went to Boise today) and we set up a meeting for noon at Saigon Grille, a Vietnamese restaraunt.

I should explain early on that I have very low expecations from "Junior." He quit a well-paying job to go back to college to specialize in criminal justice. That would be fine, but as he said at lunch today, he "refuses to be a bottom feeder--you know, the guys who write the tickets?" He wants to go straight to being a detective. This offended my ticket-writing, game warden husband. Matt generously didn't say anything.

Anyway, Junior showed up 20 minutes late to lunch. We'd given up on him and had already started eating by the time he strolled in the door. Long story shorter, I collected the $23 from him, but it looks like he's going to park his car in my front yard for a week or two as he tries to sell it. I could have said no, but I didn't because it seems like it's just easier to let Junior have his way so that it keeps the peace. Life was so much easier when I could just bitch slap him. Why'd he have to end up four inches taller than me?

What's In a Name?

Casey is the #461 most common female name in the United States. Since I was going to be named Casey whether I was born a girl or a boy, I feel like it's okay for me to tell you that it is the #268 most common name for males.

How common is your name? Via Solonor's Inkwell.

Good News Day

I got two pieces of really good news in the last 24 hours. First, my older brother is getting married. He was married once before, divorced, and swore he'd never get married again. But he met Janet, they started dating, she moved in. My family just adores her and I've been so worried that she'd wait as long as she could for him to propose, and then she'd just take a walk when he didn't. But apparently she proposed to him, he said yes, and I'm adding a new sister-in-law and three nieces to my extended family. Hooray!

Secondly, my friend Inga and her husband Mo had a baby boy on the 18th. This is their first child, and I know they're going to make terrific parents.

*grin*

Just a Matter of Time

We went to our local grocery store tonight to get some provisions. Usually we avoid it. You inevitably have to dust any boxed or canned food you buy, the produce is rank at best, but the butcher shop and frozen foods are generally reliable. So I bought us each a nice t-bone and as Matt was unwrapping mine he said, "Smells kind of funny." I am not a person who smells something that is purported to smell bad. Seems masochistic, somehow.

So we grilled and I ate my steak. The last bite tasted funny. No, I didn't spit it out. Why do I have a feeling that I'm going to be awake at 2:00 in the morning, sitting on the toilet with a pot in my lap for the barf?

I'm not smart about food sometimes. Yes, I do believe milk is bad on the expiration date and I pour it down the drain. I also don't eat leftovers that are more than a couple of days old. However, I did once finish a leftover seafood burrito that I'd left in my car overnight. In August. I woke up in the middle of the night, sicker than I'd ever been. And I couldn't move my legs. They just didn't work. I dragged myself by the arms to the bathroom, took care of business, then crawled back when it was over. I woke up the next morning and my legs worked.

You'd think I'd have learned after all that, wouldn't you?

I'd Be Plastered

I've mentioned before that Matt and I are big fans of the new HBO series, "Deadwood." It's become a running joke for us to say, "What do you think will happen in the next episode?" The other of us will say, "Someone will get shot, someone will get stabbed, and someone will get called a 'cocksucker'."

Inspired by Erica's Sunday Night Sex Show game (now known as "Talk Sex With Sue Johanneson"), I'm working up my own drinking game for Sunday nights. The sad thing is that I'm usually walking on my lips by the second glass of wine/beer/shot, so I'd be passed out before the credits were actually over.

Here's what I've got so far:
Someone gets fed to Wu's pigs, everyone drinks.
The word "hoople-head" is used, everyone drinks twice.
Someone gets called a "cocksucker," everyone drinks.
The whores all get checked for pox, everyone drinks twice.
A town meeting is held in the Gem saloon, everyone drinks.
E.B. Farnham toadies up to Swearingen, everyone drinks.
Gratiuitous showing of nipples, everyone drinks.

That's where I'm at so far. Any other Deadwood fans out there have any suggestions?

RUDE!

I've been watching a shirt on E-bay for days now. It's a Lowe Alpine wicking long-sleeve t-shirt, which is my favorite kind of shirt right now. Brand new, my size, and there were actually two of them up for auction. The auction closed today, I put my bid in before I left for work, then rushed home this afternoon to check the results. I was outbid. This has happened before, and I have come to accept it. However, the same person who outbid me bought the other shirt as well! She couldn't let me have one?!

E-Bay user christinemurray, I hope you rot in hell!

And Now for Grover

The First Mate Thinks He's a Good Buoy 

I promise I will not run on about the dogs simply because I can now put their photos up. This is not a dog blog. But here's a picture of my little angel puppy. Ain't he the sweetest thing? While his hooligan older brother was trying to steer, Grove just cuddled up on a few life preservers and had a little snooze. Say it with me, "Awww!"

Skipper Cody Takes the Boat for a Spin 

Huzzah, another picture! This is Matt and Cody when we were on Lake Cascade a week or so ago. We were trucking along, trying to get back to the boat ramp, and Cody decided it was time to assist in the navigational duties. He clambered up onto Matt's lap, and Matt being pretty darned tolerant, let him get away with it. As I was reaching into the back of the boat to get the digital camera, we suddenly ran out of gas and I was very nearly launched over the gunnel. As you can see, all is well that ends well and the moment was captured for posterity.

Atkins Unfriendly

You won't catch anyone in our house eating a low-carb diet. We like our carbs here at Rancho O'Connell. We like bread, we like ice cream, we like Krispy Kreme. What we don't like is being lazy and not getting any exercise.

I had a long discussion about this with a local business owner the other day. He used to be an executive chef and now he and his wife run a deli/produce store. The place he used to work was an extremely swank golfing resort and he said the waiters would come into the kitchen often saying that someone asked for "Low Carb Options." Tom would tell them, "Your option is to get off your ass and walk the golf course rather than taking a cart. Then you can come back here and eat anything you want!"

Pass the potatoes.

Are You Suggesting Coconuts Migrate?

Son of a Silly Person 

John Cleese has a website and plans to write a blog! Sure, he may charge for it, but I'll pay. I'll pay...with a herring! As the home page will tell you, everything is under construction right now. It's hard to tell for sure (I don't think you can every really know if John Cleese is pulling your leg or not), but it sounds like he'll have little movies and maybe even greeting cards available.

Eternal gratitude goes to Mrs. Kennedy for pointing this out for me.

Da Boyz

Grover and Cody 

Now that I've got this swanky new way to add photos (someone please tell me if you can't see them), I figured I'd better start introducing you around to some of the major players in my life. This is a shot of Grover and Cody, our two English Springer Spaniels, taken in our backyard last spring. Grover had put on a few pounds since this was taken, but you get the idea.

Mushroom, Mushroom, Mushroom

My Friend, the Morel 

Everyone bear with me while I'm working on this PhotoBlogging business. Blogger has started this new service and I'm a real yutz when it comes to figuring how stuff like this works.

Anyway, this is a morel mushroom. They are like crack to me. Put a little breading on one of these babies and fry it up with some butter and garlic and I'm a slave for life. We gather a few morels here and there every spring. However, there was a large-ish forest fire in our area last year, and now the entire fire area is carpeted in morels. It's madness. Matt and I picked for 2 hours last night and came home with seven pounds of them. I ordered a dehydrator off of e-Bay this morning and it better get here soon. Morel milkshake, anyone?

Local TV

Thanks to DISH Network finally getting all their shit into one sock, we now have a "Super Dish," which receives local network stations from Boise. This is the first time we have had local tv in our home for...two years. I wish Matt had left his digital camera here, because at one point I looked out the window at the repairman and saw one of the worst cases of plumber's butt ever. I thought, "I could totally blog that." C'est la vie.

Anyway, part of the thrill is being able to watch local news. So I'm sitting on the couch watching this news story about a nine-foot long sturgeon getting poached out of the Snake River, and they interview a fisherman. (I'm thinking I should probably leave his name out of this. And I'm paraphrasing because I couldn't begin to remember his exact quote.) This guy says in the interview, "The really bad thing about all of this is that that fish is gone now. No one can ever catch it again!"

Sounds like a real concerned sportsman, right? Wrong. My darling husband caught him poaching salmon last year and issued him several tickets. Seems to me like the fish he poached aren't going to be available for anyone to catch again, either. Jerkoff.

Quelle Grody!

(Mel, don't look.)

Mystery Illness/Parasite Said To Be Afflicting Idahoans Getting Attention

Around the country, 729 people -- and just under a dozen in Idaho -- believe they are infected with a mystery illness many are calling a parasite while some clinical researchers believe it is linked to bacteria. "Actually there are ten patients in Idaho and I know three of them fairly well. I have spoken with them on the phone and I believe all ten of them. Because what they report to me is very consistent with what we have seen,” says Mary Leitao, a Pittsburgh-based medical researcher.

Leitao is a biologist by training and an investigator of this unknown medical condition by necessity. She began clinically studying it when her three-year-old son showed her an unknown organism coming out his lip and on his heels. When she first spoke with dozens of other people who claimed to suffer from the same type of unusual skin lesions, they said, "The physicians will not acknowledge this. They are telling us we are all delusional and we have what is known as delusional parasitosis."

I'm afraid I would have to scratch my skin right off my body. That's right, Virginia. There are cooties.

And One More Thing!

I'm taking money out of the joint account so I can go get a massage. Ha! Take that! Yep, a massage from my cute massage chick. That'll make me feel better.

Grumble

Here's a good way to piss me off: marry me. Then tell me that not only were you not able to spend any of my days off last week with me due to work shit, but that you won't be able to spend any of this week's days off with me because of other work shit. Then get all up in my bidness because I'm pissed off.

Any questions?

Life Feels Absurdly Busy

Kids, work has got me running. It happens this way every May, so I always know what's coming. My skin knows I'm hella busy and subsequently more stressed. That's why I have two whomping-large zits in my chin area. It's why my shoulders are really, really tight right now.

But you know what's good? I got a present in the mail today from my friend, Tea! It's a great print called "She Who Wears a Pink Ribbon," and the print has a wonderful little story on the back about fighting to end breast cancer and helping those who suffer from it, whether because of their own personal battle or because they watch someone they love suffering from it. Thanks Tea, you're the best!

Scorpio, Gemini Moon

So yeah, I already knew I was water. But at least the quiz got it right:


You're Element is Water. You are soft and serene at
most times but like Wind, you're scary when
you're mad. You proabaly have a talent is
singing and even your speaking voice is lovely.
You have an innocent type of beauty that makes
you look younger than you are and you like
close relationships with people.


What's Your Element(girls)? (PICTURES)
brought to you by Quizilla

Workin' in a Coal Mine

I started working weekends today. I do this every summer, and I end up with Wednesday and Thursday off. You might think that was an awful schedule, but it really isn't. I live in a very tourist-oriented town and it's very busy here in the summer. By working weekends, I get paid to deal with the touristy types, and then I don't have to share my days off with five thousand other people trying to hang out at the lake, hike on the trails or even getting a tank of gas. It's a good thing.

Apple. Apple? Apple?!

Gwyneth Paltrow and Chris Martin are the proud parents of a baby girl. I am sure the child will grow up to be talented, graceful and beautiful. Too bad her parents stuck her with a name like Apple.

I think I'll avoid naming my kids after fruit, thank you very much.

Another Saturday Night

...he passed out while driving
and ended up pressing his foot
down on
the
accelerator...

Okay, it's really Saturday afternoon, but I still ain't got nobody. (And no money; it's another week before I get paid, but at least I have you all to talk to.) Matt has gone down to some kids fishing event in Melba. I've lived in Idaho for all of my 29 years and I still couldn't find Melba on a bet.

Anyway, I am getting some laundry done, surfing the web, watching the dogs, etc. I went up to my favorite produce store in Donnelly and bought $31 of fruit and vegetables, much of which I should be freezing and packaging for summertime fruit smoothies.

I ran into our former neighbors while I was out and about this morning. They are the nicest people. Mr and Mrs are retired and fairly comfortable in their "sunset years," but like many older people these days, find themselves taking care of their grandchildren due to the fact that their daughter is a terminal fuck-up. So last weekend, Mr was driving in his mini-van behind his grandson, who was moving their riding lawn-mower down the street. Mr has had two bouts with brain cancer, and I believe is no longer in remission. He passed out while driving and ended up pressing his foot down on the accelerator. The mini-van got up to an estimated 40-50 mph and obliquely hit the grandson on the lawn-mower and then bounced off into someone's garage. Mr only came to after the vehicle had come to a stop. The grandson was Life-Flighted to Boise, where it was decided he only had minor injuries. Mr was okay too, but has more or less shut himself in his home for the last week and is very depressed. I wish I knew something to do for him.

Piddling Around

...futzing with a perfectly good blog layout, but it's a boring Friday night...

I'm dinking around a bit. As Mel can probably attest, I'm not very good with this sort of thing. Which is why I hired her for my skin--so that I couldn't mess anything up too badly. Anyway, this bit o' fun comes from Mandarin Design.

Matt is in the living room watching the Milwaukee Brewers play the Atlanta Braves. Yawn. Apparantly this is a "throwback" night, wherein the Brewers wear old-fashioned uniforms. Tonight's uniforms harken back to the 1950s when the Brewers used to be the Milwaukee Braves. Yes, they're playing the (Atlanta) Braves tonight. There are two teams of baseball players scampering around the field wearing the word "Braves" on their chests. It does not make it any easier for me to follow, let me tell you.

I'm a Slacker

Malia, I'm a total slacker. I finally added you to the blog roll, something I've been meaning to do for months. I swear, this is the first time I have touched my template in ages. So there you are, over to the left.

Story of My Life

This word has a lot of meaning for me personally. Why? E-mail me and I'll tell you.

The Drawback...

...to keeping your peace in a situation where you don't care to enlighten the person you're mad at is that you are now prone to a ton of passive-aggressive bullshit. Rather than confront the situation, the true passive-aggressive will pussy-foot around the problem. They will make oblique remarks to mutual friends in the hopes that they will get someone to ask them what the problem is. Then they hope for allegiance from those people.

Know what? I am halfway enjoying all of it. Why? Because I know I'm right.

Getting Snippy

This has been making me cackle sporadically all day. Mac was approached out of the blue by some chick and told that her hair stylist needed "to thin the left side" of her hair a little more the next time she went in for a cut. Then the crazy bitch said that she knew this because she was in training to become a SuperCuts stylist.

Yeah, that makes you qualified. Bitch has probably been practicing on a used string mop for three weeks now and thinks she's a professional.

Have You Ever...

...been in a situation where someone has completely missed your point, but it is entirely not worth clearing it up for them? Have you ever been frustrated with someone, but then they said something so nasty and below-the-belt that you simply cannot deal anymore?

I'm in one of those situations now and I could explain myself until I was blue in the face, but it wouldn't change my feelings, nor would the person I was frustrated with change their feelings or even pause for self-reflection. I have given up on it; in fact, I gave up long ago. It's just taken this long to all (more or less) come out into the open.

So what about you all? I'm sure you've been there. Would you speak your piece, or would you just walk away?

Thank You, Kevin!

Kevin gets props for steering me over to Urban Dictionary in reference to my earlier quandry regarding the word "shorty". Go Kevin.

I'd like to use one of my new vocabulary words in a sentence. If it doesn't make sense to you, you are probably not the intended audience.

Your feelings are hurt? Dilligaf?

Help Me With My Urban Lingo

So I've heard a couple of songs lately (Bounce by somebody somebody and Hey Mama by the Black Eyed Peas) and they both refer to "Shorty," as in, "I was only talking to Shorty, I don't even know her name," and "Hey Shorty, I know you like to party." Is Shorty slang for "chick" or something?

Yeah, I'm a doofus but it's because I'm from Idaho. What's your excuse?

Ringringringringring

Puff the magic dragon
Lived by the sea
And frolicked in the autumn mist...

Okay, now that I've got the worst conceivable song stuck in your head, go listen to this.

Can you hear me now? Via Erica.

Maybe the Weirdest Dream Ever

Most of you know I'm not particularly fond of cats, right? It all started when I was four and discovered that I was allergic. My throat closed up, I got hives, it was ugly. I just haven't been able to feel warm and fuzzy about them since then. Which is what makes last night's dream even more bizarre:

For whatever reason, I decided I wanted a kitten. I went to the pound, but there were no kittens available. There was, however, a very pregnant female cat. I took her home and she almost immediately went into labor on the kitchen counter. (Gross, huh?) So I'm sitting there thinking, "That's right Mama Kitty, I'm about to get some kittens." She was pushing and things were progressing. I grabbed the first kitten to clean it up and as I was wiping away the fetal ooze, I realized that I was holding an ear of corn. I thought, "Well if that's not the damndest thing." Then she birthed yet another ear of corn. All told, she gave birth to four ears of corn on my kitchen counter, and then died. I went over to our neighbors' house (the ones with the wrecking yard) and said, "I was going to come over and offer you a kitten, but all I have is this corn."

How weird is that?

Check It Out

Designs on the White House is a little fashion movement started in order to, well, improve John Kerry's t-shirt selection. But more importantly, it's about democracy. It's about casting your vote. It's about wearing a cool bit of gear to get your point across. Take a look!

Race for the Cure

The Boise Race for the Cure was held today. As I mentioned before, I was able to recruit 121 people and the local Ford dealer got another 35 together, which brings our total of participants to 156! Yeah, baby!

While we were handing out t-shirts this morning, a woman came up to me and said, "My employer will co-sponsor you. Who do I need to talk to about that?" I was up to my ass in people grabbing whatever damn t-shirts they wanted, so I just pointed her to the Ford guy. Turns out she was from The Gap. We don't have all the details, but we hope that means that Gap is going to match Ford's sponsorship of our team. Can you imagine? A quick calculation tells me that's...$3120 additional to fund the Komen Foundation.

I so hope that it's going to happen...

Like Showering Inside a Yam

I (re)painted our master bathroom last weekend. The former owners of our house lived here for 30 years and chain-smoked for a substantial portion of that time. We learned fairly quickly that the humidity in our bathroom gets to a certain point and nicotine starts to leach out of the walls and drips in grotesque streaks of brownish-orange. We put down two coats of Kilz primer last summer and painted it a nice ice blue. Looked great for about two weeks. The the drips started again.

I knew drastic measures would have to be taken, but I wanted to stop short of tearing out all the sheetrock and doing it over. Neither of us really have the skills base for that anyway. So last Saturday I scampered down to the Home Despot in Boise and bought more Kilz and more paint. Doesn't sound quite logical, does it: already did Kilz and paint, and now am doing it again? Well, it makes sense when you paint the bathroom orange. Heh heh. As you may have guessed by my blog design, I love orange. I don't think we're going to be seeing any nicotine for a while. If you're interested, go to Behr's webpage and look up the color Maple Leaf. I friggin' love it.

Where I Been

I was at a training session in Boise all this past week--sorry for the delayed absence. I've also been having some computer trouble, both at home and at work. My work computer ended up with a new hard drive, which means I lost all my stored documents as well as my address book. No idea why it crashed so hard, but I have a theory that my magnetic personality has something to do with it.

The computer at home is a somewhat different story. It connects to about half the pages on the internet. Anyone have any idea what that might mean? Could it be the modem? It doesn't help that my husband, in what he calls "a fit of temper," all but destroyed the mouse. The office here is somewhat cluttered--Matt is definitely not a neat freak and I try to let him have one room of his own. The printer is actually on the floor under the desk, occupying what our older dog considers his personal space. Due to this, Cody laid down on the printer in the middle of a print job and Matt yelled at Cody and slammed the mouse down on the desk. Well, a real mouse wouldn't have survived it and this one didn't either.

Anyway, any suggestions as to the internet connection trouble would be much appreciated.

Run for the Roses

I know you have probably already heard this joke, but I thought I'd post it in honor of the Kentucky Derby.

A group of 3rd, 4th and 5th graders, accompanied by two female teachers, went on a field trip to the local racetrack (Churchill Downs) to learn about thoroughbred horses and the supporting industry (Bourbon), but mostly to see the horses.

When it was time to take the children to the bathroom it was decided that the girls would go with one teacher and the boys would go with the other. The teacher assigned to the boys was waiting outside the men's room when one of the boys came out and told her that none of them could reach the
urinal.

Having no choice, she went inside, helped the boys with their pants, and began hoisting the little boys up one by one holding on to their "wee-wees" to direct the flow away from their clothes.

As she lifted one, she couldn't help but notice that he was unusually well endowed. Trying not to show that she was staring the teacher said, "You must be in the 5th grade."

"No, ma'am, "he replied. "I'm the jockey riding Silver Arrow in the seventh."


Har har har. I suppose congratulations are due to Smarty Jones (the horse) and Stewart Elliott (the rider) who won in the big race today.