White Trash Emergency Beer Cooler

This is what happens when you need to keep your drinks cold and you are on the 3rd floor of the beach house and you don't want to go all the way downstairs to where the coolers are on the 1st floor because you are too dayum lazy (read: drunk) and besides, there is a SNAKE down there holding the beer hostage.  

Genius, albeit inebriated genius, you must admit it is genius nonetheless! 

Sing a-Wrong

On Karaoke night of our Lucille trip to the coast, the KJ (DJ for karaoke, duh), would selfishly sing his very ownself in between all of the patrons' (our) requests.  It was ok until he made a stupid, fatal mistake.  Fatal as in - he killed the party mood.  Pretty sure that KJ was a local and just didn't get it.  The coastal wildlife bears a bit of explanation to fully understand the caliber of citizens that we encounter when we're down there.  In defense, it is entirely possible that there are other islanders who are NOT like this - but the establishments we tend to frequent and the sheer eccentricity of our collective personalities seems to draw an off-brand of human contact. 

The Lucilles had sung some of our usual fare to entertain the meager crowd, which consisted mostly of us and a few weird old dudes who had followed us from the two previous bars that we had visited.

These gentlemen did not include Santa Claus, who used some BS about hamburger helper as his attempted pick-up line.  A first for me.  Lucky for him/unluckily for me, I was drunk enough to actually engage in a conversation with him about hamburger helper and all its virtues, and coming from my white trash background, I had quite an extensive amount of knowledge on the subject that resulted in the conversation lasting for a rather lengthy time that implied interest.  Gawd help me.  

However, who DID show up was the waiter that Felix had made an impression on at the restaurant where we ate the previous evening (how? I don't know cuz she was bi+chy and rude as h3ll to him over the availability of a particular brand of beer, but she smiled cattily the whole time, so I am pretty sure that he mistook the smiling for attraction.)  He obviously had accrued too many dui's and/or didn't have a vehicle that ran and had followed us ON FOOT from bar to bar (he kept showing up much later than the other guys and by the time we got to karaoke we saw him and figured it out).   MyPoolBoy came down for the weekend and we stayed an extra couple of days and we actually saw him with a WOMAN walking across the street from our hotel.  Said woman had no teeth - not just bad dental hygiene habits with resulting gaps - NO TEETH as in, she must've left her dentures on the nightstand that morning - she was wearing no shoes - and she had her cut-off jeans unbuttoned AND unzipped.  Hand to GAWD.

Also present and accounted for was Phil.  Phil was there to sing, by golly.  And meet women, if the opportunity presented itself.  And he hadn't had enough to drink yet to steady his DT's, but that didn't keep him from erroneously thinking that our laughter was a sign of interest rather than the horribly inhumane, insensitive ridicule that it actually was.  Phil used the karaoke arena as his personal concert venue and moved about the bar like he was Tom Jones at the Vegas MGM Grand.  He walked up to Larva and put his hand on her shoulder as he sang to her.  Larva had made the mistake of looking especially cute that night in a little strapless dress which meant Phil's hand was on her BARE shoulder.  As soon as he walked away, she began screaming for someone to disinfect her.  Which we did.  Because for the first time in my life, I was in an establishment that had a huge pump dispenser of hand sanitizer right there on the bar. 

Can. Not. Lie. About. Shi+. Like. That.

So.  Karaoke evening had gone a little mild for my liking, and I elected to put in some songs in that would liven things up.  Larva got up and sang "Because I Got High" with me, and then I got a couple of girls to do "Hit Me With Your Best Shot."  This was followed by "PMS Blues."  We had a theme of girl-power going.  And that - THAT - is when the KJ made his fatal error.
He sang "Only Women Bleed" by Alice Cooper.  All of you under-40 somethings need to heed the following lesson in pop culture:  Alice Cooper is NOT a woman.  It was a guy and his band from the 70s who did some really good songs like "School's Out" which is a timeless classic, but also did some freaky shi+ like "Only Women Bleed."  Of course, it has to have been written and sung by a man because it stretches a testosterone-laden mind to have to get a meaningful or deep lyric into a song.  Basically, it goes
like this:
blah blah blah blah blah blah blah but only women bleed
only women bleed
only women bleed
only women bleed
only women bleed
only women bleed
blah blah blah blah blah blah blah
only women bleed
only women bleed
only women bleed
only women bleed
only women bleed

Sure.  Let's sing this to a crowd of crowd of women who outnumber all the men in the bar and who have just been selecting such numbers as "Hit Me With Your Best Shot" and "PMS Blues." Clearly he was missing the point.  We are not the type of girls that are beneath using the men's room and leaving the seat down. Or putting a pantyliner in your tip jar. (Way to go newbieLucille - "Tipper" is your official blog name now!) 

Here's a clue, buddy --

Ask John Wayne Bobbitt if only women bleed.

Hisssssss-teria at the Beach House

That circled speckled brown spot next to the Solo cup is a snake. A RATTLE snake. A 2-1/2 foot long rattlesnake that was sunning himself beside the house where we were staying at the beach. Next to the only stairs that could take us down to the lower level where our beer coolers were stored. So pretty much this a$$hole snake held all our beer hostage while we were stranded on the second story deck for about an hour. So we were stranded on the second story deck for about an hour by an a$$hole 2-1/2 foot long rattlesnake that was holding our beer hostage. Do you understand this? WE HAD NO WAY TO GET TO OUR BEER!!!!!!!!!!! And really, snakes don't have thumbs to get a cold one out of the cooler and toss up to us either, if they were ever so inclined to do so. But he somehow didn't seem like a friendly neighborhood bartender variety of rattlesnake anyway.

So. After we called the property management people and waited about 30 minutes - WITHOUT BEER - I ventured out onto the deck stairs in the very fashionable wardrobe choice of a stars and stripes bikini with the hastily added safety feature of lizard-toed Nocona cowboy boots to snap this picture. And then and there realized I was on the stairs in a bikini and cowboy boots so my cheese had pretty much slid right off my Ritz, and this realization prompted me to decide that it was time to call 911.

So. Barney Fife showed up and got the bright idea to MACE the snake.

Now, if you were a snake and you got maced while you were trying to hold a bunch of middle-aged women's beer hostage, what would you do?

Get pissed and come after Barney right?

Yes.

But, in his defense, Barney did get him to crawl out onto the lawn where he could mace him some more and spray him with the water hose. Which made the snake more pissed. Then, 30 minutes later, he hit upon the bright idea to get a shovel and actually KILL THE A$$HOLE BEER-HOSTAGE-TAKING SNAKE!

Finally! Crisis over. Beer saved.

IPW

I was attempting to demonstrate my physical prowess to the Lucilles while we were at the beach this afternoon. So I took my empty beer can and placed it between my thighs to crush it. Which, incidentally I was able to accomplish and pass the resulting aluminum pseudo-disk over to Felix for a souvenir. Isn't that impressive?

Not as impressive as the surprisingly round and symmetrical dueling bruises that I now have on the inner area of my legs just above the kneecaps.


This is an Identifiable Party Wound.

Sunny Beaches

Day 1 of the 5th edition of Lucilles at the Coast. I have already had some fabulously brilliant vodka-induced ideas and observations. Like my beach chair, which was originally tan, but I deemed it necessary to paint pink and green and stuff because I cannot be normal. I love this chair because it has a zippered storage compartment on the back, a little pillow headrest, a cupholder and cell phone holder on the side, and a COOLER at the back.

Ok. So. Onto my brilliant ideas and observations. First - I think a bikini top that was made all boxy and weird so that it looks like the block-out bars on the tv when they don't want to show a girl's girls would be so cool.

Before we left - we saw a lady with this pvc pipe contraption that was supposed to form a hole in sand to get some sort of wildlife to come to the surface. I thought it looked like one of those p3nis pump things that they sell at adult toy parties.

We lucked into unbelievably awesome beach and weather conditions. As we were wading out into the water, drink-in-hand-tiara-on-head, I realized that my bathing suit bottoms were on inside out and I was forced to devise a plan on how to get the seams righted to the intended factory specifications. So, as I waded further into the waves, I traversed just far enough to cover myself from my newly pierced belly button down with the ocean as my camouflage. Then I handed DownUnder my drink, and asked Hyphen to hold my hair while I squatted down and turned my bikini bottom back the right side out underneath the surf - only pausing to raise my drawers above the water level enough to make sure that I was at least not putting them on BACKWARDS after going to all the trouble to get them back on correctly.

Quote of the day: DownUnder commented in her eloquent Aussie accent that it was "lovely" and that "the water is the exact temperature of pee."

The Crazies Invent a Sport

I work with some extremely crazy people. Not a big surprise since you have to be crazy to hang with me anyway, but this time I laughed SO HARD. Dehydration laughing. Cuz you are peeing and crying from laughing and you lose all your bodily fluids from both ends and get dehydrated and have to go get more beer.

We were at StripTease's house and Duckit and Felix and I were all sitting on the couch and MyPoolBoy was across the room in a recliner trying his d@mnedest to ignore us as we were laughing and snorting on the couch over stupid stuff. First of all, StripTease had a chili pepper pinata hanging from the rafters of her back patio which overlooks the golf course. (This is important for later) Since Duckit and I have been white-trashing up our hallway and classroom doors for the last two weeks (leis, mardi gras beads, feathers, glittery posters), and we plan to continue to do so NEXT week (only worse - fuzzy dice, Nascar flags, etc.), we immediately had the same thought: we need that! We said it at the same time and fell into fits of hilarity which incited an exaggerated eye-roll from the recliner. We figured it would be the culminating decoration would be this glorious pinata after we put up balloons, then a flamingo windsock, then chili pepper lights. StripTease said we couldn't have it. She knows we're up to no good. Then Duckit and I decided that we should go and buy our own anyway - a multi-colored BURRO/jacka&& one - it would be funnier anyway! Duckit also mused out loud if there was a way that we could rig it to attach to our door handles so that when we opened and shut the door it would raise up and down! More fits of laughter from the couch. More eye-rolls from the recliner.

Then we got into a discussion about pets because I was telling Felix about our rabbit, Al, that she gave to me after she rescued it from her dogs. I started explaining the zoo at my house to Duckit and when I got to the description of the lizard that we used to have I told her that I had to call the campus secretary one time and tell her that I needed someone to cover my morning duty because I was running late because the lizard got out and was in the a/c vents and we had to catch him before we left because we were scared Wild Kingdom would go down in our house cuz the cats would stalk and eat him while we were gone and we didn't even have that Jim guy to call the play by play and catch it all on film for posterity. That reminded Felix of the most ridiculous call to work she ever had to place: her dog was raped.

Felix then begins to explain the scenario to us about how she once had this little cocker spaniel in a fenced-in area of her yard. The neighbor's German shepherd jumped the little picket fence and got frisky with her (you know what I mean). Ok. Wait. The German shepherd got frisky with the cocker spaniel, not Felix.... just had to clarify that pronoun antecedent. Anyway. They got busy. As busy as dogs get. And then it was canis coitus interruptus when Felix went out the back door to yell at them to stop. (Did you see all that Latin? Aren't you impressed? It's not even PIG LATIN). So back to the dog rape. When Felix yelled at them to stop, they didn't. And the cocker spaniel was still "attached" to the German shepherd. And the German shepherd got scared and jumped the fence.

With Felix's cocker spaniel still in tow.

Over the fence.

Backwards.

Attached to the German shepherd.

So then Felix had to go catch them and separate them and take her dog to the vet to get a doggy abortion so Felix was late for work that day.

Again - fits of uncontrollable drunken dehydration laughter from the couch and annoyed eye-rolls from the recliner.

And then the "sports" began. A couple of the Ethels found some wiffle-golf balls and golf clubs. And they invented "Dodge Golf." And Dodge Golf is exactly what it sounds like. Take a bunch of your drunkest friends. Procure wiffle-golf balls and golf clubs. Line up across from each other in Napoleonic warfare juxtaposition. Hit golf balls at each other. Laugh uncontrollably.

You know what they say...

It's always funny until someone gets hurt.

Then it's hilarious.

Also Starring

Well the Tucker Max blog that was turned into the Tucker Max book that was turned into the Tucker Max movie has gotten me to thinking that I could publish all this crap on actual paper like a real writer and then get some great middle aged movie stars to play all the Lucilles.

I would have to be played by Nicole Kidman or Raquel Welch (my supposed celebrity twin) - somebody tall who is willing to show off a tramp stamp. 
Felix would be Sally Field - that's the only one that seems perky/short enough to pull it off.
Hyphen needs to be that chick Karen on Will and Grace  
Bi+chslap is Meryl Streep because she did such a good job in Mama Mia and Bi+chslap loves that movie  
Baloney should be Beverly DeAngelo (of National Lampoon's Vacation, etc.)
DownUnder has to be someone with an accent -- All I've got is Julie Andrews... does anyone know somebody else that has an accent??????? 
TrailerTrash will be played by Lucille Ball except she's dead so we have to pick someone else.  CRAP.  Ok.. Bette Midler. 
FrenchTickler will be Rosie O'Donnell.  DISCLAIMER: FrenchTickler is NOT a le$bisan just in case any of y'all get any crazy-out-there ideas. 
CrocBuster could be Tatum O'Neill.  

OMG ESL PMS TFLN LOL

Well. This is a long post, but very enlightening. The day started normally enough. I went to breakfast as usual for a Saturday at the bakery with MyPoolBoy. Then I drank FOUR cups of coffee. I guess I was trying to fill the void I felt from lack of studying with some caffeine. See, I had to go take the ESL teacher certification test yesterday and let's just say it did not go well. I started off jittery (could it possibly have been from all that java?) and, as I later discovered, PMSing. So by the time we drove to the BigCity and spent 30 minutes looking for the place, MyPoolBoy yelling at me because we were lost, I was not in a testing mood. Ran in to find what room I was supposed to be in and then dashed like mad for the nearest bathroom, as my bladder and kidneys were sufficiently caffeinated for a rhinoceros. Came out and reported to MyPoolBoy (who I was still mad at for yelling at me right before a test) that my urine smelled like coffee and frustration.

Went and took the test in a room whose air conditioning unit was sucking all the electricity in the western hemisphere because it ran CONSTANTLY and must have been set on about 35 degrees. DownUnder was there -- she was nervous -- said that she was just considering it her "trial run." 9 questions into the test, I found crap that I had never heard of before. Confidence levels, already shot from being yelled at, went to an all-time low by question 21 when I discovered more shi+ that was not covered in the training academy. Question 26 was something we were told we didn't have to worry about, this was ESL, not bilingual, blah blah blah --- guess they were wrong. I was ok with it, but I was expecting to see DownUnder have an episode that would get her removed from the facility and cause her test scores to be voided without refund.

In all, I counted 7 questions that were not covered in the training or in the training materials/manual. I knew 4 of them just because I know some Spanish and I teach Language Arts. But I was pissed off. And I was freezing. I had taken a sweater, but I was STILL LITERALLY SHIVERING, sitting cross-legged with my feet tucked up under my legs to keep my toes from getting frostbite.

Finished 70 questions in less than 90 minutes. Changed about 25 answers 3 times. Left feeling less confident than I ever have about a test. Wow. Mediocrity sucks.

Met MyPoolBoy at the truck and instructed him that I needed alcohol -- STAT! Went to an Olive Garden and began by ordering a glass of chianti and stuffed mushrooms. Then I figured it would be a good idea to text some of the Lucilles and my new teaching partner, Duckit (there is a whole story here that I will have to explain later). Here's what I discovered on my phone this morning:

(5:33 pm - Me) Done with esl test. Exam was administered in a meat locker. Core body temp fell to nearly debilitating low. Will continue in next text. (first glass of chianti was gone at this point)
(5:38 pm - Duckit) 2 bad u didn't freeze nto a popsicle stick we could make a documentary about the trials & tribulations of exemplary teachrs (there's a story with the popsicle stick, too -- lord I'm behind on blogging!)
(5:41 pm - Me) Pt. 2 - fat bi+ch administering exam did not care that i had frostbite. 10 --wtf there's no percent sign-- of the stuff we did not cover in training.
(5:45 pm - Duckit) Probably field ?s no worries if i passd so shall u grab a coffee on your way home 2 thaw out (here she is still sweetly and naively responding to each of my texts, silly girl! I laughed at the coffee suggestion - partly because I was NOT drinking coffee, and also because I was just starting to get my urinary tract to end its quest to visit every restroom on the east side of the BigCity)
(5:50 pm - Me) Pt. 3 - i'm screwed. Glass #2 of chianti has arrived at my table. Im warmer and i don't give a shi+. Oh well All i get are psycho students, not esl anyway (punctuation and capitalization rules are clearly beyond my grasp by glass #2)
(6:07 pm - Me) Pt. 4 - if i get arrested at olive garden 4 public intox i can just sit it out cuz i have 49.5 days of state leave. TeachingPartner, ur blog name is gonna b Duckit! (I now have lapsed into full-blown middle school cheerleader texting mode)
(6:10 pm - Bi+chslap) Im sure u/it will b fine enjoy wine & food & as da mob would say foget about it
(6:13 pm - Me) Pt. 5 - (the second glass of chianti is gone) MyPoolBoy won't carry me out of olive garden - Duckit, rustill in the BigCity to come get me? (notice I have now added lack of spacing to my phone text error repertoire)
(then we went across the street so MyPoolBoy could shop for tools and I found a thrift store!)
(6:17 pm - Me) Am now ddrunk shopping at a thrift store. This shi+ is not in dress code. Felix the bra sniffer guy is not here today (note the double d in drunk -- loss of keystroke control!)
(6:18 pm - Duckit) I thought of alcohol it would warm u up but im not one 2 push people towards drnkng please dont get arrestd...
(6:19 pm - Me) this was a picture mail, inspired by a Crayola Crayon maker. I had decided that my friends needed to see the first thing I saw that was interesting to my drunken self. The message read: Pt. 7? Who wants it?
(6:21 pm - Felix) What is it and how much
(6:23 pm - Baloney) What the heck is it WTP you are my saturday night entertainment its this or watch the little league world series
(6:24 pm - Me) Crayola maker 5 bucks
(6:24 pm - Felix) Buy it
(6:25 pm - Me) no message, just a photo of the infamous sniffed black bras
(6:25 pm - Felix) no
(6:25 pm - Duckit) I vote u buy it we r actually home but heading 2 school now would be a good time 2 leave a Packmule Trail (omg I have to explain THIS one too!) u can always blame it on the alcohol
(6:36 pm - Me) another picture mail - this was where I went all Vogue on them and began a fashion shoot in the dressing room stall. I was wearing leopard print pants, a brown camisole with FUR around the bustline, a white fur hat, and leopard print platform heel shoes that I couldn't get in the shot. Duckit later told me that she thought I was in the men's restroom!
(6:37 pm - Felix) omg
(6:38 pm - Bi+chslap) what the h3ll is on ur head
(6:38 pm - Me) picture of the shoes
(6:39 pm - Felix) double omg
(6:43 pm - Me) I probably now have lice from putting that hat on but who cares? I have 49.5 state days
(7:09 pm - Duckit) U look cougarlicious

Cougarlicious. I love her.

How to Deter Carding

The bartender at one of the bars last night thought he'd be really cute and card all 13 of us obviously mature ladies. I honestly couldn't find my ID in my dayum purse (at the bottom in a little change purse). Here's what I DID find and proceed to lay out on the bar:
My tiara
Pink cell phone
Rubber chicken
Hair brush
Jesse's Girl stripper makeup
Vanilla Cream hand cream
Cougar Bingo card
Feathery fuzzy pink pen
Sally Hansen hot pink nail polish
sunscreen-on-a-clip
a maxi pad
my special lie detector (tape measure)
and the only forms of identification I was able to retrieve - my Bi+ch card and my Mensa card (why just be a bi+ch when you can be a smart bi+ch?)

I was the last person of our group that he carded. You think it was the maxi pad?

Big Game Hunt

We had a failed attempt to play Cougar Bingo last night. Perhaps it is a regional thing and the Arizona Cougars are different from the Texas Cougars. Perhaps it is because the places we frequent lend the atmosphere to attract Barflies more than Cougars. Perhaps it is because we were hopelessly drunk and busy dancing with each other. At any rate, it devolved into more of a scavenger hunt after we added some of our own "spaces."

Ear cuffs.
Wearing shirt as dress.
Banana clip in hair.
Dances by standing in one spot and finger-pointing.
Wears keys on arm.
National Geographic boobs.
Applies lipstick without removing cigarette from mouth.

At this point of the evening it starts becoming painfully obvious that our little list is about US.
Tramp stamp.
Hits on guys at convenience store around the corner.
Shaves armpits in car en route to the bar.
Rhinestones on clothing AND accessories.
Animal body parts / not cow leather (i.e., fur, feathers, shells, miscellaneous skin) below the waistline.
Duffel bag-sized purse - bonus points if Poise or Serenity pads fall out when reaching for wallet.
Sucking on unlit cigar.
Beat-up straw cowboy hat.
Captain's hat. Takes pictures of self and friends.
Wh0re-scavenging for koozies and doo-rags from random strangers on porch of the bar. ("cuz it's my birthday!")

Sleeping with Felix

Well I sorta survived the first day/night at the coast with the Lucilles. As usual I slept with Felix and about 5 or 6 am I was awakened by her KICKING THE FOOL out of me. At first, I was startled: was I snoring? am I rolling over on top of her and crushing her tiny little body?

But let me clarify - this was not just a "hey move over" kick. This was a series of rabbit kicks, like when you scratch a dog in the right spot behind its ear and its leg starts moving on its own out of control. It would have been hilarious if it hadn't have been before sunrise - and it hadn't woken me up just enough to cause me to have a weirda$$ dream when I rolled back over.

By weirda$$ I mean it had David Hasselhoff in it.

David Hasselhoff's kid went to our school for some reason. And David Hasselhoff's kid knocked over a grandfather clock that was standing in the middle of the open area by the library at school for some reason. So I was telling David Hasselhoff's kid that he was going to have to either pay $10 to replace the glass in the front that broke, or sit in after school detention for 2 days. Or he could pay $5 and sit in after school detention for 1 day.

David Hasselhoff was not happy.

He came up to school and was griping at me because he didn't think it was fair to make his kid pay for the glass because we shouldn't have had the grandfather clock in the middle of the open area anyway.

Then I woke up.
I don't know if it was the barbecue we ate or the shots we were drinking at midnight, but I'm scared to go to sleep now.

Yes, I fear the 'Hoff.

I Got Carted (or, The custodians have to wax the floors now)

School was out at 12 today.

I got home home after 1. Not because I was working....

Baloney and Bi+chslap found a shopping cart that some well-meaning local merchant donated to us when we were making all the moves to the new building. A tool in the hands of some. A toy in the hands of the Lucilles.

Somehow it was left behind in a room down the old hall. Felix and I got into the basket and Hyphen stood on the end while Baloney and Bi+chslap pushed us around the new hall where all the ramps were. Then the other grade levels and staff heard the noise of us screaming and came out to take a turn, too.

I have to admit it was a bit scary going around the corners because I was facing the handle of the cart and had no idea if we were gonna bite it or not with them steering and laughing and trying not to pee themselves. And I was sober. Definitely puts the fear into if you are actually cognizant of the possible impending death or severe cranial injuries that could literally be around the corner.

Yes, I'm a Little Bit Evil

Played an unusually hilarious and semi-elaborate April Fools' Day prank on our principal today. Got law enforcement and central office personnel involved, even. Can't really say too much else except that we are MEAN.

I was the soul who was brave enough to go to c/o and ask for them to play along. Was told that I have no fear, do I?

Nope, it's more like I have no shame.

Also remarked during a grade-level meeting today that we could get rid of a body out front where they demo'd the old building because there's a big ol' hole out there. Everyone is agreeing and thinking of other holes around the creek, etc. that we could use for body disposal. I stopped them. No. Y'all don't get it -- they are going to PAVE over that hole out there....

The assistant principal said that I scare her.

How to Howl for Cheap

The Lucilles had wanted to resurrect our traditional pilgrimage to Howl at the Moon in San Antonio after TAKS was over this year. Unfortunately, scheduling for a weekend that we can get hotel vacancies is a nightmare because about 1/2 of us have something conflicting on every date that we have picked thus far. So we were talking and came to the conclusion that tonight would be the only feasible time that we could swing it.

On such short notice, though, we cannot get a hotel room -- then we figured we could crash at TrailerTrash's parents house, who live north of town. Alas, this is quite a trek from Howl at the Moon and as difficult as it is to drunkly stumble a few blocks back to the hotel and successfully harass firemen at the firehouse on the corner, there is absolutely no way we could walk (stumble) to TrailerTrash's parents - even sober.

A cab ride would be expensive and would necessitate dipping into the beer money - so that idea was immediately out. What we needed was a designated driver. And there were no volunteers to stay sober -- surprise surprise surprise.

Then it came to me - we could have one of the pregnant staff members do the driving... they cannot drink and thus would be forced to be the designated driver for obvious medical reasons. Since neither of them are Lucilles (or even Ethels), it would be necessary for us to stoop to the all-time low of kidnapping one of them with some kind of makeshift weapon... probably random construction debris of some sort that still litters the playground at school. How to hold them hostage for the remainder of the evening is the only fly in the ointment. Because if they escaped and left us in the lurch we would have no one to drive us AND no one to scrape up bail money if necessary.

Dayum. Plan thwarted.

It's Like Camp....

So. I am reading my Texas Assessment of Knowledge and Skills General Test Administrator's Manual and I have decided that it can be included on the list of things that are Freakin Hilarious after an 18 pack (or in my case, 3 glasses of wine from my adult Capri Sun box). Our TAKS-stress release/celebrations need to be scheduled BEFORE TAKS next year because we could sit and drink and read this sumbi+ch the weekend before TAKS and have a grand ol' time!

I, of course, felt obliged to text the rest of my grade level and share this important revelation.

First of all, it is arranged into sections labeled Activity 1, Activity 2, etc. and at first I was all - oh, like centers or stations in class - but then I decided NO it was more like camp activities and our "campus testing coordinators" are supposed to be like the counselors or something. So I am at page 70something and am about to go to the Appendices section. And I'm thinking ok, this is the part of camp where you sneak off behind the mess hall in the woods with that really cute guy you met during Activities time and make out. (MyPoolBoy is on red-alert)

Then I drunk-dialed my stepmother who teaches sped and started reading some stuff to her and DYING laughing about how the #2 pencils would be issued to us by the camp counselors (testing coordinators)... I was all: so, is this so we won't give them a pencil with the multiplication charts on them or something or does the pencil we are being issued have special lead that has been shi+ by lord god king Rick Perry himself? Also, we decided that NO toilet paper can be used during the breaks (which, by the way are NOT mandatory so if we feel like not letting the kids go to the bathroom at any point during the testing day, we have that discretion left to our own sick twisted sense of humor, ooops, I mean judgment). The reason for the no t.p? It could be considered SCRATCH PAPER which is NOT allowed. Also, females administering the TAKS test probably should be issued duct tape to tape down our breasts because if you are an A cup that could be construed as answer choice A for some of the questions. If you are a B cup you are giving away all the answer B choices, etc. We don't know what they would do for the male teachers. HOWEVER, we could all stuff our bras with the unusable toilet paper so that we will be the same size across the state.

Anyway, she tells me how they have this kid who is considered ED (emotionally disturbed) because he whips it out at inappropriate times (read: constantly). So then MyPoolBoy says: he can't do that because it would be considered a measurement device that is not standardized like the state-issued mathematics chart. BUT! If you classify it as a MANIPULATIVE (since it is something that he uses regularly in class) then it will be an allowable accommodation!

Oh, and the manual says that we may not instruct the students to speed up or slow down while they are taking the test but it says absolutely nothing about KICKING them to make them speed up or slow down.

Alright - I made it to the Appendices section. I'm gonna finish this and go to bed.

Edited to add: I was gonna email this post to the Lucilles but that dayum squiggly word captcha thing came up and do you know how absolutley CRUEL it is to do that to a drunk person?

Shhhhhhhhh

We made it through the big 5-0 blow-out party for Baloney, complete with a huge red velvet penis cake. (Don't mess with us, we will get you back with illicitly-shaped baked goods...You thought the Uterus Cake was bad?) We sliced it with a meat cleaver.

Some of the non-regular staff and faculty came, a tribute to what a true matriarch that Baloney is to our campus. She rates. One of the gals requested that although they would never be able to aspire to the position of Lucille, and there was a healthy respect for that, she DID want to be dubbed as an "Ethel" Ok, Ethel, Wish Granted. Please note that you will now be fair game for me to mention in my Blog and if you ever do anything embarrassing in front of me, then your name will be changed from Ethel to whatever embarrassing nickname I drunkenly decide to use in reference to you hereafter.

AND there was beer pong. AND one of the Ethels crawled on top of the beer pong table. AND...

We had a bonding adventure. All I'm gonna say is at least we didn't toilet paper anyone's house this time.

Friday Night

I am at DrunkenFelix's house with BagLady and SubFriend

Behavior is at an all-time low.

I have: cussed out the killer-ear-eating-dog, devised a plan to get a red dildo for Baloney for her 50th birthday, made fun of some Jay Leno story about some guy having oral sex with a raccoon (I don't know what happened- I think I have rabies, but the guy was wearing a mask!), accidentally locked myself in the bathroom, told DrunkenFelix to slow down her talking because I was A-effing-D-effing-D, and when I tried to open my box of wine SubFriend discovered that there was a bag inside and she told me that if I got a big long straw it would be like a Capri Sun for me, and we have decided to upgrade BagLady to BoneBagger - don't ask.

Ok, now BagLady/BoneBagger wants me to call her LittleBushDeer

Eye Had a Happy Birthday

I am typing this on my new pink laptop that MyPoolBoy got me for my birthday. I also am looking forward to enjoying the pink gator skinned flask that Thunderduck and his new woman got me. We called it the "babysitter's cup" when her little girl asked what it was! BWHAHAHAHAHA! I also laughed at Bi+chslap and the girls for once again buying me duplicates of the same birthday card. Felix provided us with the much necessary turtle cheesecake for after lunch today.

But we had a good howl at lunch after Bi+chslap handed me a scratch-off lottery ticket. Since I had given them all prank tickets for Christmas, I had to first ask if it was fake. The answer was no, so I intently began to scratch my way to my white trash retirement fund. Alas, none of the little silvery gray squares held the key to my fortune forcing me to continue to work, but I did end up with a fabulous silvery gray colored fingertip for my efforts. Bi+chslap came back in the room about the time I discovered the news that my poverty would continue and she asked if I had won anything. I told her that no monetary gain was acquired but since I happened to realize that I had not put on any eyeshadow this morning, I believed that I HAD won some beautiful silvery gray eyeshadow - and I wiped my finger tip across my eyelids!

So if I catch some rare tropical lottery disease or contract pinkeye (or grayeye) - THAT's why!

So, just how old is the WTP you ask? I am 41-derful years old today. The way I look at it, I'm moving into the middle third of my life (cuz you know that my plan is to live to be 119 and then die in a freak roller derby incident). Therefore, I don't feel old at all, barely middle-aged. I told MyPoolBoy that I planned to have his head freeze-dried and kept alive in one of those big ol' pickle jars so I can carry it around and still talk to him and drive him insane after his body dies...and he would have no legs to be able to walk out of the room to ignore me!

Halloween Brew

I announced to the Lucilles today that I will be trick or treating their houses this year with a cooler. And I will be expecting a can of beer as my treat.

Squirrel Shots and Buttery Nipples

Last night at least gave me something to blog about. And I am not referring to what we drank. Let's just start things off with a photo that Felix snapped on her camera phone.

1) That is a BRA.
2) In a TREE. (on upper branch, right in the middle under the skinnier limb)
3) It is NOT MINE.

Part I: The Squirrel Shot - A new waitress was working our table on the patio- overwhelming at the least if a herd of tired, inebriated teachers are at one of your tables when it is your first night on a new job. Especially overwhelming if the tired, inebriated teachers are Lucilles.

So. MsWaitress is completely not getting our orders straight, mostly because, it turns out, she has not written them all on our tickets. She sits down in the chair next to mine and spreads the tickets onto the table like tarot cards. Let's see - *the faeries say today that thou shouldst not be a waitress*.

Well Felix's high school friend (I really think I must start calling her PreFriend - she is a friend that Felix had previous to me) is sitting across the table. Felix is in the chair next to MsWaitress at the end of the table where the "reading" is taking place. As Felix patiently (patience is the skill that Felix has gained from being friends with me!) tries to help her sort out the tickets, PreFriend looks up and notices that MsWaitress is sitting in her chair in a most unladylike manner. To add to PreFriends viewing pleasure, MsWaitress has on a short skirt. And as if THAT weren't enough, MsWaitress was also not wearing any undies!!!!!!!!!!! PreFriend gets Felix's attention and gets her to look down at MsWaitress's lap - and Felix pretty much gags and laughs herself to death. Laughter that included snorting. Clueless, MsWaitress goes in to settle all the tickets and ring everyone (except us) out. She emerges moments later and informs us that they (the boss/manager/whatever???) have told her that she is done for the night. No way. I can't imagine. So she sits down and has a drink with us. WTH????

Part II: The Buttery Nipples - After MsWaitress left, some other regulars sit down at the table next to ours and have a birthday party for one of their friends. Felix and I are driving them crazy to open the gift that is so beautifully wrapped and displayed upon the table. We cajole them into shaking it, peeking under the wrapping paper, everything - until she finally opened it. And it was a stuffed purple monkey that had velcro hands so you could hang it onto stuff - and it had a button to push that made it scream and screech. It was highly anti-climatic because Felix owns about 4 of them - like a BaskinRobbins of screaming velcro monkeys.
Anyhoo, the subject of buttery nipples came up and BigBoy over at the birthday table hollers into the little window to the kitchen to the cook to bring him some butter. The cook comes out - BigBoy opens his shirt - and I would like to say that you can imagine what happened next - and it did, but uuuuuuugggggghhhhh! Full body shiver...