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Hot Tub Time Machine

So.  I am the proud new owner of a $50 hot tub.  It is straight out of the late 70s or early 80s and after moving it, we NEED it! 

I had to clean the heating element with vinegar to remove the lime scale while we were dong some maintenance on it.  Now the whole back porch smells like Easter egg dye.  Or douche.  

It is big and ugly.  Ivory fiberglass with dark brown Spanish tile trim.  I fully expect to lift the cover and find Ron Jeremy sitting in it.  And probably the only way we  can emulate the time machine experience is to  drink heavily and then hit replay on our mp3 player and zap us back a whopping 2 minutes and 39 seconds in time.  Deja vu all over again.

Best 2-line Conversation of the Whole Day

MyPoolBoy (to Chunk who had severe bedhead):   Good morning, Mr. Bieber, you missed breakfast. 

Chunk: Shut the h3ll up!

Foo King Chinese Food

Actually it is the Panda Cafe, but we are here because we needed to eat and the Telenav Gypsy Bi+ch reviews said it was cheap delicious college Chinese food.  It was next door to a place called BULLrittos and the Frozen Goat yogvurt shop.  We really thought we were getting the better deal of the three.   And THIS was sitting on the first table when we wlked in the door. 

What's HapPINing

So.  I get on Pintrest after hearing how it is the suburban woman's crack.   And my verdict is a resounding "maybe."

I've seen a few little tidbits of info here and there, and it has been brought to my attention that there is even etiquette for "pinning."  And none of this has ANYTHING to do with voodoo dolls or getting a hot fraternity guy to mark you as his territory.  Unless I run a search for hot fraternity guys on Pintrest and then I could see what it sends me to.  (Reminder to self: look up hot fraternity guys on Pintrest later.  Reminder to self #2: check original sites for ages of hot fraternity guys before repinning to avoid pesky jail time.)

I don't have it all figured out yet, and I'm not really sure how the site chose all these random-a$$ people or pinners or pin-ups or whatever-the-h3ll-you-call-them for me to follow.

There was one that came up tonight under the category of "Architecture."  Now, first of all - I don't give a rat's shiny green a$$ about architecture.  And second of all - it was ugly.  Commenting thusly  (Hey, I don't give a rat's shiny green a$$ about your ugly architecture, etc.) on the pinner's prized collection of virtual Ugly probably violates one of those decrees of pinning etiquette.  Instead, I "Unfollowed" it, but I really was considering for a moment of "repinning" the whole shebang to MY account and just renaming the category "Ugly Sh1t."

Ventilation Without Filtration

If I said everything I was thinking I would be unemployed, divorced, and have no friends except Felix and DonnyCat.

Here's what I am thinking and not saying today....

187.  It's my IQ.  It is also the California Penal Code for murder.  Trivia you might need.  

Oh, really?  Wahhh wahhhh.

You know what this place needs?  A big g0ddayum giant chocolate cake.  And vodka.

I'm so glad you have time to post on Facebook while the rest of us WORK for a living.

Your lack of planning is my emergency because WHY????

You know what you need?  About 10 more years of life experience.

Oh h3ll yes.  Please let me stop doing everything that I am doing and take care of YOUR crap,  because I know your crap has GOT TO BE way more important than mine.

Instead of thanking me for all the work I do for you, why don't you DO SOME OF THE WORK YOURSELF?

Dog and pony shows sure leave a lot of sh1t behind for others to clean up later.

If you can't say anything nice -- well, you seem incapable of saying anything nice, so shutting the h3ll up is really your only option, isn't it?

Sorry.  I forgot to be overwhelmingly impressed.  Do you want me to do a f*cking cartwheel?

Even if you spraypaint bullsh1t gold, it's still bullsh1t.

Yippee - effing - skippy.

Why yes.  I'd love another motherf*cking responsibility on top of all the sh1t I already do to make your life easier.

Oh f*ck.  Please go away.    

Heartbreaker

Wednesday.  Driving to Sonic with MyPoolBoy in the Beemer because it was a gorgeous day and I needed to have the top down for more than the 7 blocks from school to the house.  As if I was not already a nervous wreck due to the abysmal reality that I sometimes refer to as MY DAYUM JOB, I had the added pressure of transporting a backseat driver in the passenger seat.  I was doing the best I could to keep the clutch-shift-gas rhythm going in my head to avoid hearing the sounds of his teeth grinding and his nails digging into the leather of the armrest -- I was doing completely fine with only the intermittent distractions of squirrel roadkill and turning up the volume for an appropriate cruising song, and he drops this on me:  Well, Davy Jones died today.

What?

Ok.  Admittedly I was distracted by the dead squirrel in the road at this point and for a millisecond I thought he meant the pirate.

Then it hit me.

What?

So he goes - "I SAID Davy Jones died today.  A heart attack.  So there will be no more Monkees reunions."

I HEARD you.  What kind of sadist are you?  Crap.  Don't do that to a woman -- don't just break the news to her that one of the cutest men on the planet is dead while she's trying to shift from second to third.  Are you trying to get us all killed?  I could have careened out of control at the breakneck speed of 21 mph and it would have been ALL YOUR FAULT.

To make matters worse - this morning, the GrandMarshal spearheaded a celebration of Dr. Seuss's birthday by getting the cafeteria to serve green eggs and ham for breakfast and he totally missed two other very important occasions - Texas Independence Day and Jon Bon Jovi's birthday.  No mention at all.  Not one whit.

Fast-forward to now - because the in-between is a h3llish blur that would drive most women and all men to drink. Being in the category of "most women" I have concocted a "sort-of-pina-colada" from remnants of various flavors of vodka and rum and a pitcher of frozen pineapple juice.  And some flavored syrup sh1t like you're supposed to put in coffee but coffee contains no alcohol so SCREW THAT.

So I'm cruising Facebook and mulling over the comments by a few of the Banned Camp girls, and I come across THIS phrase: geezer rock stars I'd still do.

It's like an even MORE inappropriate though thoroughly precise version of Do-able/Not Do-Able.
And so, I am inspired.  Here's my list.

Rick Springfield (obviously)

Bon Jovi (though I am not sure that he qualifies as a geezer because he's only 50, so technically he is not even old enough for the senior discount at Denny's)

Possibly Barry Gibb of the Bee Gees.

Davy Jones WAS on the list but he's not now that MyPoolBoy broke my heart with his insensitive announcement.

Elvis WOULD BE on the list, but I was like, 9 when he died so that kinda would've been statutory rape and besides at THAT point in my life I thought Leif Garrett was cute, so what did I know?

P.S. Add Leif Garrett because now I'm inebriated, and it's just funny!

We May Not Win But We Had Fun Trying

 So.  Me and Felix and Duckit and Hyphen entered the campus chili cook-off, which I must tell you was disturbingly bereft of  a number of health code protocols.  I know WE didn't use those ill-fitted plastic glove-thingies OR hair nets -- unless you count the Dr. Seuss hats we were wearing as hair nets. 

Along the way to the culminating moment of chili judging, we also hit some other lows.... slightly inappropriate attempts to turn a stuffed Cat-In-the-Hat toy into a voodoo doll, eerily realistic-looking plastic cockroaches that *somehow* appeared on the lids of other contestants' chili entries, an impromptu acapella rendition of the "buy the world a Coke" song, and the shameless waving of a crumpled five dollar bill in the faces of the judges. 

Someone came by our classrooms later and excitedly reported to us that they thought they saw a ribbon on our table. 

Yeah, we know.  A blue one.  We put it there as a subconscious message to the judges that we deserved to win.

Don't Say I Never Gave You Anything

Have I got a deal for you!  From the Free Stuff Times website:

Free K-Y jelly at Walmart

4:24 pm -"Coupons" 

Print this $3/1 K-Y coupon(login or register and click the red circle). Many Walmart stores have the 2 oz. jelly for $2.62, making it better than free.

Brave the blue-vested greeters and fire up your Lexmark -- this deal is even better if you use the paper and ink from your printer at work, passing more savings on to you!

Kentucky Jelly!  Admittedly it is sh1tty on toast, or even with peanut butter.  Enjoy!

Last Minute VD Gift Idea

If you have not yet gotten a Valentine's gift for that someone special --- or if you do not yet have a "someone special,"  Craigslist comes to the rescue!  

Valentine's Sexy Spells & Love Voodoo kit - $10 

Valentine's - or any time -- You won't find this in the local store!!!! 

No shi+ you won't find this at the local store, unless your local store is Marie Laveau's Voodoo Emporium.  I went to Walmart last night and there were NO voodoo kits. 

There appear to be no voodoo dolls or pins in either of these.  Which is a bummer, cuz given the very nature of the "spell,"  that would be a riot.   

However - the "Sexy Spells" looks a little bit like a conversation hearts box, which I think would be a GREAT idea.  Just type the magic sensual, come-hither words onto the candy itself and distribute to your love interest to drop the hint.  If WTP wrote love spells on candy hearts you would get such doozies as: 

Guess what?  I shaved my legs! 

You'll do.  

The kids are outside.
I'm sooooooo drunk!   

The clinic called, and I'm clear "for now." 

Are you awake? 

(for men) My Viagra just kicked in.  

We'd better do this now because I'm supposed to start my period in 2 days.  

You've got 13 minutes before "Swamp People" comes on.
What the hell.  I need to burn off the 27 calories of conversation hearts that I ate earlier. 

Hallmark Never Thought of This

I spent the better part of my evening at the Valentine's Dance - which you need to understand that, at the elementary level, is more like a Valentine's Run-Around-Like-A-Howler-Monkey-Hopped-Up-On-Mountain-Dew.  One of my students brought me a cup of lemonade (bribe? peace offering? hemlock?)  which I oh-so-politely declined by saying "no, thank you."  Please note that I did not say "I know you don't wash your hands after recess,"  nor did I ask,  "How much vodka is in that?"

Anyway,  I went back to my room to collect my purse before my escape, I mean , departure.  There was a little project put up in the hall by some of the volunteers and kids that had polled some of the staff and asked them to tell their favorite Valentine's memories. 

I asked the Grand Marshal how come his favorite wasn't the time that me and Hyphen and CrocWhore shoepolished his truck and TP'd his house!

Say it with Charmin!

Pick a Winner

So.  Peyton Place ISD is having a contest to come up with a new district motto.  I'm gonna win.  The toughest part of the  competition will be which one of my mottos is the best. 
1. There is no "I" in TEAM, but there is an  "I" in PPISD.
2. We're like you, only prettier. 
3.  What's a-motto with you?
Perhaps we could have a Latin motto, like the fancy Ivy Leagues do - 
4. O-gay Ackmules-pay
5.  PP.  It doesn't stand for what you think. 
6.  (This one's from Duckit) Packmules - A few good students. 
7.   Nowhere to go but up. 
And my favorite... 
8.  At least we're not Bur***. 

In My Yahoo Spam

2 emails that caused me a moment of pause and reflection: 

1 - Meet Mature Singles in Your Area
Well, I don't know any mature people NOW, so why would I want to meet any at this stage in my life? 

2 - Never Shave Again!
Is that like..... permission?   H3ll yeah!

How to Tell You Are Too Old for Vegas

Top Ten Ways to Tell You Are Too Old for Vegas

10.  You have a stack of ones ready -- to tip valets and bellhops, not for strippers. 
9.  You say "no thanks" to the guy handing out strip-club flyers because you have PTSD - Petrifed and Terrified of Spouse Disorder.
8.  By the 2nd day you have ditched efforts to look stylish on the  Strip and have opted for comfortable shoes.
7.  The TSA airport id checker on the trip home double-takes because you look "tired" compared to your id photo.
6. You can afford the maximum insurance on your rental car.
5.  You are leaving your room for your morning coffee at the same time the folks in the next room are stumbling IN.
4.  You avoid certain areas of the casino because they are "too loud."
3.  You avoid other areas of the casino because they are too far from the restroom. 
2. You order cosmos because you know you need the cranberry juice. 

And the number 1 way to tell that you are too old for Vegas:.  You meet someone on the shuttle from the airport whose 25th birthday is the exact date of your 25th wedding anniverary!

What I Like Most about Vegas

...so far

UNLIMITED BACON AT THE BUFFET!

Bus-ted in Vegas

Hand to GAWD just got off the shuttle at the hotel withMyPoolBoy and. a girl whose 25th birthday is the.same day as our 25th anniversary.  We have invited her to crash the wedding.  We screeched and laughed all the way to the hotel!

I Got New Glasses

QueenB got me a set of glassware (ok, barware) for my birthday.  It is beyoooootiful classy retro with gold pinstriping around the pitcher and glasses.  It also has a long stirring spoon.  I cannot find anything like it on Google images or eBay to compare and confirm what exactly it is we've got here.  Basically the pitcher is shaped like a large brandy snifter with a lip for pouring.  The glasses are all little rounded cups - demitasse-sized.

Here's the thing -- she was told it was an antique martini set, yet the pitcher and glasses are not shaped like one would expect for such imbibements.   I have almost decided that the pitcher COULD be for sangria.  (But not as a pitcher.)

Also, I have deemed those little glasses as useless if such is a case.

You can't seriously expect me to keep refilling those tiny little f*ckers.....They must be for doing shots or are just coordinating votive candle holders.

Shoe-In

Was looking at shoes for the re-wedding on Craigslist this a.m. just in case I want to deviate from the original plan of wearing the acrylic hooker heels.  Found a gorgeous pair with beading and cute little strappy across the back.  BUT they are a half size too big.  MyPoolBoy said we should go ahead and get them if we are going over to TheBigCity anyway.  I tried to explain to him in the simplest of terms to make his testosterone-infused brain understand that you can walk inebriated down the aisle with Elvis in shoes that are too SMALL because you can kick them off later and be ok; you canNOT walk inebriated down the aisle with Elvis in shoes that are too BIG because you will turn your ankle and fall and break your neck. 

"Woo hoo!" he said, "Single in Vegas!"

Re-Do

So. 
MyPoolBoy and I are approaching the 25-year mark.  Felix and I had planned this whole thing out a few years ago  and I am happy to report that roughly 30% of it may actually make it to fruition.  Unfortunately, Felix will not be unable to go to Vegas and attend the wedding, and there are no Rick Springfield concerts for me to get the proposal or groom that we had planned, but ELVIS WILL BE INVOLVED. 

Some of the Lucilles think I need to have a Bi+chelorette party (not a typo -- I'm not a bachelorette). 

I'm going to have to locate a big ol' Barbie dress for the ceremony -- been scouring Craigslist and if I don't either A) lose enough weight to be a size 4 or B) gain enough weight to be a size 16, then I am S.O.L.  I attempted to achieve goal weight B today by consuming an entire sleeve of  newly-purchased Girl Scout Thin Mint cookies.  I don't think I can make it by the 2-week deadline. 

Therefore, MyPoolBoy and I are going to thrift stores this weekend to find THE DRESS.  Please don't text or call or email me and tell me I can borrow yours.  You are missing the point.  I need to go dress shopping and I need to find something that will go with my tiara, acrylic hooker heels, rhinestone cateye shades, and vodka.

YOU: Don't want cosmos and/or appletinis spilled all over your heirloom garment.
ME: Extremely capable of spilling cosmos and/or appletinis all over your heirloom garment.  

Anyway -- I thought it would be great fun to change my status on Facebook to "engaged" instead of "married" to MyPoolBoy until the re-wedding occurred, and FB said it had to confirm this status with MyPoolBoy. 

Silly Facebook!  Don't you know that after 25 years, I don't need his permission for ANYTHING?

Please Stab Me in the Eardrum

Who besides me cannot stand to hear the moronic and badly syncopated lyrics of the Truvia commercials as sung by that annoyingly nasally bi+ch?

Dear Truvia and/or Truvia's marketing agency representatives:

Quit bogarting the crackpipe.  That is the only explanation for how such inanity made it to the airwaves.  That and the chick who sings your jingles must be doing  somebody really important.

Sincerely,
WTP

P.S. Just cuz you b@stardized "Jingle Bells" does not make it a holiday song, either. 

Maybe the Truvia jingle is what the drag queens are singing "watermelon watermelon motherf*cker watermelon" to.