Why are people so stupid?

This goes down as one of my biggest pet peeves known to me. Ever.

The setting: The baggage claim at any airport. Anywhere. In the world.

The physics/mechanics/logistics are really simple if even 2% of your brain is working: If everyone stands a few feet back from the carousel (yeah, it's not an effin ride dip shits), then everyone can see when their luggage is coming.

But, most of us apparently feel the need to stand as close to the freakin conveyor belt as stupid-humanely possible without getting sucked under. And then NO ONE can see. Which results in stupid human tricks when people see their bag as it passes them by.

I find it a good guage of who has an iota of intelligence in this world and who I would gladly smack in the face given the opportunity (or if I had no fear of being locked away in an airport holding cell).

Think about it next time you're waiting for your luggage and just take a step back - otherwise I might have to bitch slap you.

Fav line from 30 rock

From Jack:

"I like a woman with ambition, it's like seeing a dog wear clothes"

Jeff-isms

Another gem from our dear friend:

"I love sitting at tables, even when I'm not eating"

Surprise Guest

So, this week's We Weekly had a party planning section, which included such gems as

1. how to position candles
2. how to make mulled wine
3. eat, drink, be merry
4. plastic cups are out
5. what to do if your partner gets drunk

and this exciting tidbit...

The ultimate splurge if you've got the cash is wrangling a celebrity guest. Paris and Nicky are only $300k, Britney a steal at $250k, KFed going cheap for $50k, and Dave Navarro is a mere $25k.

Bet you can't wait to see who's coming for New Year's Eve....

Our new house

Since we moved in 8 months ago, we have a) never found a home for some stuff and b) added to the piles because we're slobs.

Well, no more peoples.

The idea of 13 people over for american turkey day got us in motion on sunday.

Since then, adam has spent much time staring at his newly organized pantry.

And I have spent equal time admiring the new "black-n-white" study.... And looking for the little red tin. Alas. Curses. Foiled again.


Happy American Holiday. And now an ode to JB on Thanksgiving with love.

Happy thanksgiving to you
Happy thanksgiving to you
Happy Turkey Day, dear JB
Happy gobbles to you.

We miss you JenniB

xxxxx

Nocturnal Admission

Apparently I was thrashing about with the duvet the other night at 3 a.m.

When husband asked me what I was doing, I replied:

"I have to reorganize the sleeping bags"

I guess I might have been camping in my sleep that night.

The Germolene Gene Strikes Again

This time it hit my sister:

Sister Germolene: What are you doing this weekend?

Me: Going to see Stevie Wonder

SG: Yes, but will he see you?

Jenni B and Me (and some other folks)

I finally booked my trip to Singapore to see Jenni B in February. Two whole weeks of experiencing her lifestyle (sans gym) and traveling around the area.

I can't wait!!!

I know that Bangkok is on the list and some place in Cambodia, but we haven't made those plans yet. More details to come

All I can say for now is bring on February.

I hate this crap but I'm doing it anyway

Here we go....

pop-o-matic "tagged" me on Friday and here is what I have to do:

A). Link to the person that tagged you and post the rules on your blog...

B). Share 5 random and/or weird facts about yourself...

C). Tag 5 random people at the end of your post and include links to their blogs...

D). Let each person know that they've been tagged by leaving a comment on their blog

Well, I just did "A" and "B" above so here are my 5 random and/or weird facts about myself:

1. I hate pickles (they're soaked in evil)
2. I have a little man in my head sitting on a stool who sometimes rides a bike
3. I hate these fill in the answers and then forward it type of things
4. I ate couscous for the first time in 25 years the other day
5. I have recently developed a snoring problem

I would like to tag the same people that Jeff did - because I don't know any other people that would read this and I'm saving everyone the trouble of duplicating efforts. I guess I really only did part Ba

Friendship never ends

Been back in the motherland, so apologies for my absence (they don't have computers there yet).

But now I'm back, and guess what I have to look forward to:

I'M GOING TO SEE THE SPICE GIRLS!!!

A bit of Brit back with me (and Shosie).

Love,
Dirty Spice

The Germolene Gene gets lost on the way to a funeral

When my grandfather died some years back (father to Aunty Evil), my dad (the Germolene Gene) hopped on a plane from America straight to England for the funeral.

We weren't really too sure how long he would be gone or when to expect him back.

However, we were rather surprised when, 6 days later, my grandmother called us to ask what happened to him.

I can't remember if we actually got confirmation of this or whether we just decided it was the likely reason...but either way, he never left London for the trip up north. Apparently, he was held hostage in a London pub for a week or so.

GG Rules!

Jeff-ism

The Greek are hairy

Stuff it in your cornhole

The Pennsylvania Crew (aka the Mob Gang) will have to alert me to what we called this fanastic athletic game that you are able to play while holding a drink.

You remember ... the one where you throw little beany bag things into a hole in a plank. (That's the scientific description.)

Because Newsweek (that venerable journalistic weekly that some people wouldn't let into their homes, even if I was holding it) has an article about said game this week.

And they call it CORNHOLE. Apparently, no concern for small children going on there.

http://www.newsweek.com/id/42506

I just trademarked your ass

Update: I just got back from some federal office in Washington DC.

I went there with the specific purpose of trademarking the phrase "Blissful Ignorance"

Done.

Now if you ever get an invitation to visit Jeff and Seth at Blissful Ignorance, you best be showing up on my doorstep instead.

Thank you for your concern.

Shout out to Turkey

As everyone should know, there are only two things that can happen down by the docks: Sudden death or a candelight dinner.

Yesterday on GH was a sudden death.

It was a good day.

Our house, in the middle of the street

Adam and I were sitting in the grown up upstairs living room last night and I had one of those split second thoughts of "wow, this is where I live" and then it was gone.

I decided that places don't really feel like home because I've never lived in one place for more than 3 or 4 years in my whole life. I floated this idea by Adam and the following ensued.

K: Maybe if we have kids at the table and family dinner time, it would feel like home.

[WTF???]

A: And you're cooking right?

[Momentary lapse into hysterics]

A: Do you realize that if we had kids, you'd have someone to play games with all the time.

K: Yeah! I'll make them play boggle before they can spell

K: Um,

K: Um,

K: Yeah, but will they want to play with me at 2 a.m. in the morning when I'm drunk?

Read this or else

Sweet and Low by Rich Cohen

Introducing the Germolene Gene

The germolene gene is what my sister and I refer to when we realize in ourselves any unfortunate traits (i.e., bad behavior) that we have inherited from our father - the original Germolene Gene.

These tend to involve too much drinking, being highly antisocial at times, too much drinking, smoking, being an overall a**hole, and a whole load of other things.

Germolene is an ointment sold in England. Kinda like Neosporin for Brits. But back in the day it was really really bright pink and stunk like some approximation of rootbeer.

My father would practically bathe in the stuff (just like JLo with Creme de la Mer), but refused to ever rub it in. It was a sight and a smell to behold.

You'll be hearing more stories in the future about the original Germolene Gene and how his genes have manisfested themselves in his two lovely daughters.

Not now, but whenever I feel like it.

I hate that guy!

I went to see the Arcade Fire on Saturday. Turns out it was one of those all day events with about eight crap bands playing before the main event.

So, after rolling around in the grass all day, we managed to find a nice little spot closer to the stage and behind a large puddle, so there was no one in front to block our view.

And then Youngy McPukester comes along and unloads the contents of his stomach right into the puddle. While that almost made me hurl myself, it got even better when loads of idiots walked straight through said puddle...in sandals. (And in some case mandals.) I tried to warn people for a while, but it was becoming a full-time job so I gave up my job as the vomit police and began to enjoy the show.

And then it happened.

One of my most hated celebrities walked straight through the puke puddle in mandals.

Adam effin Goldberg.

I was so torn between the glee I felt in seeing him walk through puke and the instant rage that I felt just seeing him so up close and personal. It was too much for me to handle.

I don't know what it is about this guy, but all around us we could hear people saying "What's that guy's name? I hate that guy!"

Maybe he could be Mean Monday for Jeff next week.

Where's my other grandma?

We covered the Nanna in depth, but that's got me to thinking about my paternal grandmother - Grandma, as we like call her.

Grandma was happily living in a retirement home for a few years. And then one day, my Aunty Evil came and took her away. After that Aunty Evil took care of stole all Grandma's money.

Some time passed (just like gas) and then Aunty Evil told us that Grandma had died.

Six months previously.

And she wouldn't tell any of us where she was buried.

This was about 15 years ago, and to this day, I don't think anyone knows where Grandma is resting. Or Aunty Evil for that matter.

Me Look Pretty

I'm finally gearing up to renew my driver's license...less than 60 days before the deadline after which, I would have to take the written test and drivers test all over again.

So, the point of this is that I will need a new picture for my license.

JDizzle - Can you grab your camera and meet me at the DMV?

Jeff-isms

This is an ongoing series of recollections of words that come out of the mouth of our dear friend Jeff (aka pop-o-matic):

This is the early stages of Jeff and Seth's move to the wilderness:

"We're going to need a fence....to keep the zombies out."

"I'll need the precious deer arms to hold my rifle."

The Nanna: Grande Finale

It's amazing the wealth of information that you can amass in one short weekend spent with a family member of superior wisdom and an awareness of the general state of the world around her like none other

Such was the knowledge we gained during our weekend with "The Nanna"

Following is the finale of the general account of our weekend with The Nanna.

We soon recover sufficiently from the bike path debacle to have lunch. At first glance, the place looks ok (asides from the family of three at the next table sharing three teeth between them), but we soon find out that the restaurant is sorely lacking because The Nanna doesn’t immediately “see anyone racing around taking orders.”

Somehow, we make it through lunch. The Nanna chugs my beer for me again and we then head back to Exeter to catch our bus. We only have two hours to spare, so naturally we are all a bit concerned at this point. In our haste, The Nanna almost drives through a fence, but we understand that this is ok because it must have just been put there recently. Changing traffic patterns and all that.

After this, all went smoothly until we had once again parked the car. The Nanna sprints out in front of several moving vehicles, but I am quickly told that she could have made it if I hadn’t stopped her thank you very much. When the same incident occurs again a short two minutes later, The Nanna informs us that she was merely following me, even though I happened to be about five feet behind her at the time.

So being as we are now at the bus station a full hour and a half before the bus leaves, we decide to get some coffee.

And then the map incident occurs.

Said map had been delivered to The Nanna to give to me. She had been reminded. I had been reminded. So naturally, we both forget the map. It happens. It’s not the end of the world. At least I didn’t think so.

The Nanna then lets me know that the map had in fact been on the coffee table right next to where I had sat the evening prior. And the map in fact had been the only thing on the coffee table that was right next to me where I sat all evening. (I suppose it would have been the only thing if you didn’t count the other ten items on the coffee table.) In fact, the more The Nanna thought about it, she was really quite sure that she had pointed out the map to me while I was sitting with it right under my nose.

Right, so now that we’ve established that is was really all my fault – something I think we all suspected anyway – we could close the book on that small unpleasantness.

We say our goodbyes and get on the bus.

Nocturnal Admission

"Land mass makes me giddy. Ahoy!"

Jeff-isms

This is the first in a series of recollections of words that come out of the mouth of our dear friend Jeff (aka pop-o-matic):

"I don't chew things that are on other things"

When asked whether he would like some corn on the cob. Further clarified with:

"Unless it's on a stick, which I can handle (corn dogs)"

Monday Night Football

So, I get home from work on Monday and our friends Kitty and Gary were already down in our mediatorium basement watching the game.

I shout down that I was just going to change and in response, I hear "Bring some Dos Equis!" Sounds fair enough. I go put on husbands pajamas and start rummaging around in the fridge for some Dos Equis. I finally go downstairs and apologize for not being able to find any Dos Equis. But apparently, Kitty had shouted "Wear something sexy!"

Guess I failed on both accounts.

The Nanna: Part 3

It's amazing the wealth of information that you can amass in one short weekend spent with a family member of superior wisdom and an awareness of the general state of the world around her like none other

Such was the knowledge we gained during our weekend with "The Nanna"

Following is the third in a series of a general account of our weekend with The Nanna.

Sunday dawned bright and early with The Nanna waking us just to let us know that time was running out, and we only had 7 hours until our bus left.

Before venturing out, we engage in some more high spirited learning. Here we learn that there are gangs of thugs roaming the streets everywhere these days. Apparently, once they are tired of roaming and menacing, they all stuff themselves into discos and drink themselves silly. And the police don’t do anything about it because they are too busy trying to trap innocent citizens – such as The Nanna – with speeding tickets. The solution to this would soon become clear – forced military service.

We also learn that people really don’t know how to go to war properly these days. Apparently, they bellyache too much and ask for leave to come home due to trivial events. Further inquiry determines that such trivial events can include the death of a close relative or the birth of a child.

So, off we go to the seashore…

On the way (it’s only about eight miles), we discover that motoring just isn’t a pleasure anymore. As a group, we all wonder where all these people could be rushing off to, hell for leather, on a Sunday. Did I mention that the trip was only about eight miles?

As soon as we arrived, it became uncommonly windy and started to rain. But that wasn’t going to stop us. Neither was it going to stop The Nanna from sitting on a bench and eating an ice cream cone. Upon mentioning that I was cold, I learned that it was my fault for not eating enough to keep me warm. Upon resuming our stroll, The Nanna lets us know that in her day, they used to do quite a bit of walking, but that children today don’t know what their legs are for.

And just when we thought we had learned it all, we find out that “they” are always spending our money on something silly. Further inquiry determines that the silly things in question are bike paths.

[Aside from our friend Bernhard: “And who is using these bike paths? Hungarian gypsies of course!”]

Coming soon....the Grande Finale

American Football

I think Tom Brady kinda looks like a goofy bastard (in the best sense of the word).

Also, are the Patriots the only NFL team that represents a region rather than a state?

Just curious.

Wicked Storms

This is the guy I would like to hang out with in the middle of a tornado:

"I've seen devastation and I've helped clean up, but I've never seen it be me," he said. "I bought a bottle of Jim Beam, and it's in the house. I could really use a sip of that right now."

The Nanna Part 2

The second installation (and if you didn't read the first, just scroll down because I don't have time to do the links and shit...didn't you read the "my husband just had back surgery post"????)

We have a lovely stroll along the water, and at one point I overhear The Nanna asking Adam how he and Peter managed to end up with such useless wives. I later learn that this is because neither my sister nor I have really excelled in the culinary arts.

The Nanna then proposes a pint at the pub. Now we’re getting somewhere. After ½ a pint, I’m starting to warm up to The Nanna’s stories, while Adam is discreetly but furiously texting under the table – no doubt requesting the Royal Navy leave those trapped cavers in Mexico and undertake an emergency extraction from Exeter.

The Nanna soon realizes that we now only have 40 minutes to make it back to the car, and jumps up ready to go. We oblige and are putting on our coats when The Nanna realizes I still have almost ½ a pint left.

“Well, perhaps I should help you with that,” she says as she tips her head back and finishes off my beer for me in three seconds flat.

The next few hours aren’t worth reporting on as The Nanna decided to go home and there was no more fun to be had on our part. Somehow, we managed to while away the hours and then went home, ready for our big Saturday night.

We watched Miss Marple.

Betcha can't wait for the Sunday edition.....

Back to the BeginAgain

Have been absent because husband decided to go and get hisself some back surgery. Recuperating now, but for those of you who know me as decidedly unsentimental, you should have seen me last thu/fri...Nothing but love man

Anyway, thank god I'm over that. Much love to Seth/Jeff for maintaining my sanity! And the tonka truck!

Also, thanks to Jeff and Seth for supplying my latest Nocturnal Admission (following)...makes me think I likely fell asleep before they left, which is kinda rude...but then again, I'm over it.

Friday (the past one) at 1:02 a.m.

"Yeah...ha...ha...(giggling) yeah good stuff"

"aw yeah dingleberry"

"pthyph"

I can confirm, or at least assume, that the dingleberry was Jeff.

I usually win

From Found Magazine:

The Nanna Part 1

It's amazing the wealth of information that you can amass in one short weekend spent with a family member of superior wisdom and an awareness of the general state of the world around her like none other

Such was the knowledge we gained during our weekend with "The Nanna"

Following is the first in a series of a general account of our weekend with The Nanna.

After choosing not to heed our taxi driver's warning that we were about to commence on an unusually long trip of almost three miles, we arrive in Pinhoe, Exeter shortly after 11 pm on Friday. George Washington greets us at the door and then proceeds to keep us standing in the doorway for a good 10 to 15 minutes until we manage to sneak past her earlobes and into the living room. Adam refuses the first of eleventy-hundred cups of tea offered to him over the next 40 hours, and we escape to bed shortly thereafter.

Saturday dawns bright and early at 6 a.m. (for The Nanna) and 11 a.m. (for us). The Nanna isn't sure whether to serve us breakfast or lunch and is concerned on our behalf that we might have run out of time to go anywhere or do anything. Over breakfast, The Nanna declares the EEC to be a dictatorship that is trying to ban Bramley apples. We also learn that Hungarian gypsies are also taking over London and nobody’s wallets are safe from the pickpockets.

After breakfast and lots of careful deliberation, we set off for Exeter taking care to avoid all underground parking lots (for obvious reasons) and finally finding an open air lot that's only three miles outside of town. We gallop past the old roman walls of the city (no time to stop because there's only 3 hours left on the meter) and over to the cathedral.

We decide to have a look inside but are quickly hustled back outside as soon as The Nanna sees that the suggested donation of £3.50 per person. (In all honesty, the donation collectors did look rather menacing.) We are led to understand that, while a £2.00 donation is ok, any cathedral asking for £3.50 is really just shooting themselves in the foot. We are then led to understand this several more times as we debate whether or not we have the time to walk five minutes down to the quays with only 2 ½ hours left on the meter.

Next time: We drink beer and The Nanna drives

Read this or else

The beginning of a reading list:

1. Motherless Brooklyn - Jonathon Letham
2. The Peculiar Memories of Thomas Penman - Bruce Robinson
3. The End of Alice - A.M. Homes

I'll be back with about 300 more soon....

Sometimes I like to write letters #1

Had to help out a friend. (I had a great time...)

Dear McCarren Pool Park,

You don’t know me, but I know you, and you are not on my list of favorite places right now. I feel obliged to tell you that I had a most unfortunate evening in your presence last night.

I arrived at your premises both happy and optimistic about a fun evening with the beastie boys ahead of me. When I made the kind and generous offer to go and procure a beverage for myself (and my companions), I trusted that I would be back to shake my groove thing in 10-15 minutes.

And then things took a horrible turn for the worse.

As it turned out, I spent the ENTIRE concert waiting in line for said beverage. Repeat: ENTIRE. I did not manage to meet up with my companions until several minutes after the last encore, only to be promptly kicked out because the show was over.

Fortunately, my companions said that it was a fantastic concert and they had a great time – otherwise I would be bringing far more vehement wrath down upon you.

However, I feel the need for some retribution on your part – or 100,000 air miles from Richard Branson. I trust that you will get back to me whenever you feel like it, and, until then, I will return and poop in your pool whenever I feel like it.

Over and out,
Dunela
xoxoxoxoxox

July 26th

"Nana likes bacon and eggs"

"Don't we say science not to fuck?"

"You'll be February 13th"

"One potato, two potato, three potato, four. There's a church with a number missing"

July 12th

"midyear applications"

"I've got glitter on my face"

"Bernie, for sure!"

July 11th

"I hate igloos"