In an attempt to compensate for the long absence of fits from what was supposed to be my weekly fit fest, today will be a mixed bag of things that make me want to scream, flip the bird at unsuspecting strangers, jump up and down like a two year old demanding I get what I know to be just and fair… and seeing as how the preceding three items are core qualities of individuals elected to public office, I think I’ll be running for something… maybe Grand Poobah of the Mommy blogosphere, no wait I can’t do that the FTC will come after me because of all you evil mom bloggers who force your unsuspecting readers to buy things like blankets with arms in them and invest in wooden nickels.
I guess I’ll just be sticking to a rant o’ random annoyances. Starting with the age old lesson I was reminded of yesterday. It is in fact a great universal truth, that there is no such thing as a free lunch. Or in my case dinner. With near manic enthusiasm Wednesday, I called friends, emailed acquaintances and spent nearly 237 hours getting my coupons to print from a certain world wide poultry pusher whom shall remain anonymous to protect the jackasses who star in this tale of woe and waiting in line. Coupon gold in hand, ready to cash in on 2 free pieces of bird, 2 sides of coronary complication and a fluffy bit of the carb equivalent to crack, I pulled into the parking lot of the aforementioned establishment. My first indicator that perhaps I should opt for oh say ANYWHERE ELSE… was the droves of people marching towards the doors, with the self same coupon in hand. Not to be deterred, after all FREE is quite likely a holistic cure for all that ails, I joined the line. A line that I might mention reminded me of the line for the women’s restroom at every concert and sporting event I’ve ever attended, e.g. far to long and populated with a minimum of 30 agitated women waiting for 2 places to do “business”. Still the heavenly smell of frying chicken fat enrobed in, well lets just say several herbs and spices, kept me rooted to my spot in line. Then 3 hungry and cheap people ahead of me in the line I over heard a woman shout, and yes I mean shout***WARNING*** I’m quoting here, so you might want to rethink reading a loud to the kids as usual (HA) “Wha’d da hell you talkin bout?! That dam coupon says Manager’s Choice for Chicken not the sides you ass hole what you ignant?”… no joke people that was actually shouted in mixed company, swoon..fain..I think I have the vapors Rhet. It seems that the very flustered and incompetent man who had the ill fate of posing as a manager at this establishment had arbitrarily decided to limit the choice of sides to coleslaw and mashed potatoes… Say it ain’t so Joe! Really I expect that if you are offering me a free meal I’d at least be extended the courtesy to choose what I’d like to consume as accompaniment! The situation then degraded into name calling (which I will not repeat do to the fragile sensibilities of some, not ME, but some). The tension then escalated so that a closing of the line to further persons with coupon in hand was decreed by the dunce-n-chief. WHA? Well in the end I got my very tasty (honestly it was good) chicken but I also got a huge headache, thus NO SUCH THING AS A FREE DINNER.
You may not know it but I do actually have some very strong opinions on… well everything… shocked aren’t ya? That said I just can’t let this one go. It seems that our Supreme 9 Stooges passed gas in the form of a new ruling this week. As it turns out federal identity theft laws will not apply to illegal immigrants who use a stolen social security number to establish an identity, enabling them to work and live ILLEGALLY in this country unless they know that the social security number belongs to an actual person… (pause for my brain to get around this one) SO what they are saying is that, for example, Vladamir the Russian mob kingpin steals my 15 year old son’s SSN, gets credit cards, loans, property and defaults on all of it while in the midst of conducting a one man tri-state crime wave all he’s got to do is say he wasn’t aware that the SSN he obtained fraudulently belonged to my son and he’s off the hook?!!!!! Man if I were Martha Stuart I’d be putting some choco-lax in their brownies! Oh, and yeah it’s no big if the kid’s credit is ruined before he turns 21. Or that he might forever have a criminal record linked to his SSN unless he goes through the root canal that is obtaining a new one. Even after that there are no guarantees, we have a government that taxes dead people like an M. Night Shamalan movie plot…”I see auditors”. In the end I guess the point the Stooges are trying to make goes something like this. After all America is the great melting pot right? And all persons who immigrate here illegally are always just humble, law abiding, gardeners and housekeepers here to make a better life for their families. Their rights should be protected like ducklings in a storm drain, be darned all us legal citizens.
Dear, USA Network… I am now boycotting your entire line of programing and anything that you might have any hand or have sneezed on in the past year. After you cancelled The 4400 with no announcement or resolution, leaving me wondering “When does next season start and who will develop powers what powers next?”. For this I forgave you. I even over looked the fact that, that show was the only one that I alone in this household of Simpson’s fans and The Office watchers enjoyed. I missed my evenings alone in my bedroom, door closed with a glass of wine, sitting in blissful quite basking in the TV’s warm glowing warming glow. But just when I had healed enough to finally make an emotional investment in The Starter Wife. What did you do?! THE SAME DAM THING AGAIN!! I’m nobodies fool bub and you aren’t gonna have me to kick around anymore, we are through! -Disgruntled DiPaola Momma (P.S. I’ll come back though if you change your mind, I’m a sadist that way)
Hello makers of the ACME squirrel trap that has now become the focal point of my beautiful back yard deck. I suspect that you are aware of the flaws in the design of your product. By that I mean that the squirrels are smarter than the trap. My otherwise wonderfully intelligent and rational husband was buoyed by the capture of the first two rodent prisoners of war in his ongoing Squirrel Skirmish. Yet the sweet taste of victory was short lived. I’ll add here that no prisoners were subject to water boarding or endless hours of Celine Dion. They were both released to a nice park miles from here. No squirrels where harmed in the pitching of this fit. It seems that the enemy has now deciphered the code to getting the peanut butter out of the trap without tripping it. I hold you, ACME Squirrel traps, liable for the hundreds of times my husband has painstakingly reset that freaking trap. For the hours spent checking for incoming enemy scouts on the garden fence. And for my children’s new daily pilgrimage to the back door to check for new prisoners. PLEASE someone out there, make a better mouse/squirrel trap!
FIT PITCHED! now it’s your turn
War can turn even the most level headed and intelligent man into a crazed lunatic.
This epic battle has turned my husband into just this. The foam failed (see installment one for details). Even putting our own Miss Coco Chanel Kitty out on THE ROOF to chase away the rodent scourge fell short of a win. Not to mention after she chased after the insurgents, she spent 15 minutes trying to find a way down from the roof. Finally our War Lord (my husband) had to send his valiant lieutenant (#1, our 15 year old son) out on the roof to rescue the cat. But dear reader this is not the lunacy of which I intend to tell you about, no this was just the lull in the storm of insanity. Say with me now our plea/chant for sanity “Call a roofer! Call a roofer!”…
The depths of my husband’s madness find further lows. I came upon him in the kitchen, a pair of grooming scissors in one hand and #2’s (our 9 yr old) old FurReal Friends motion activated animated cat in the other. In fear of the answer I did not ask the obvious question, “What are you doing”. I simply stood there watching him trim the faux fur from around the cat’s plastic eyes. Noticing my presence, he paused to ask me if I knew where the thick black sharpie marker was. Left with no other choice I asked him why. He replied that he wanted to “paint” the fake cat black and white (it was already a dingy white hue). Once again, with no choice left, I was compelled to ask why. The shock of his reply still echos in my ears (followed by copious laughter)..
“So the squirrels think it looks more realistic. I’m going to put it in the litter box so it smells like a cat. When they get near it, it will meow and move. That should scare them away from the nest they made in the roof.” That’s it the king has lost his marbles!! But no dear readers this is NOT the end of this tale of deepening insanity!!! When asked why he was clipping the faux fur, his response was “So that they can see it’s eyes”.. I found myself envisioning three squirrel’s standing near this fake cat, in poses reminiscent of Project Runway judges saying to each other “I don’t know Steve, I think the eyes are plastic not glass”.. “Come on , Marge, you have to admit that the stripes are just over the top”…
Wait it gets better, if that is the right word for this, when he finally puts the cat on the roof near the hole the squirrels have whittled out of our roof… mind you he does this when I’m out of the house so I can’t yell at him for endangering himself and our son to put a fake cat on the roof instead of CALLING A ROOFER!!!!! The cat activates and starts crawling down the slope of the roof!!!!!! Foiled again, I’m sure he is planning his next volley in this ongoing war of wits (Squirrels 10 Husband 0). And in answer to your question, no the roofer hasn’t been called in yet.
Stay tuned for updates