Bourbon on the Rocks

The weekends seem to slow to a crawl here in Blogoworld. I think I will celebrate weekends here from now on with a booze related post. I can’t get any more specific than that because I’m too drunk right now. Hahahaha…

This week I tried out a new product. Rocks. Yep, some kind of rocks that you freeze to put in your bourbon instead of ice to cool “mommy’s apple juice” to the right temperature. I’ve been eyeballing this product for a while because I think I would look really continental with rocks in my drink. All the joggers on my street would stop outside, look at me sitting in my rocker on the porch and exclaim, “ooo lala, zee has ROCKZ in zee drink! Vee have never zeen zuch a ting!” In case you are wondering what accent that is, it is a special accent that only I speak. I have multiple personality disorder and my alter ego is named Helga, Voman of de Vorld, From Everyvere and Novere. Helga sometimes sounds French, German, Russian, Chinese… all at the same time. She is fascinating.

Anyway, back to the cold rocks. I took them out of the freezer and put them in a glass that wasn’t broken. Not easy to find in this establishment. I splashed some nice bourbon over the rocks. It looked pretty awesome as you can see. I looked at my beverage for a few minutes, turning it this way and that, examining all its angles. Then, like the connoisseur that I am not, I sniffed my bourbon with my pinky finger held high. Then I tossed that amber liquid down the ole gullet. It tasted good as usual, but there was a BIG PROBLEM.

That beautifully balanced bourbon was NOT COLD. AT ALL.


larceny     drink

I went and got another glass (okay, plastic cup… whatever) and put some more cold rocks and bourbon in there and let it sit longer than before. I assumed that I had had a problem following the three step instructions. Nope. Still not cold but at that point I stopped really caring about the temperature of the bourbon. Instead of dirtying yet another glass and because I had run out of frozen rocks, I just took a swig from the bottle.

That’s when I figured out that I had wasted $20 on rocks and didn’t give a shit that I don’t seem to have a damn cocktail glass that isn’t broken or chipped. The bottle the bourbon comes in is a beautiful piece of art and I don’t need damn rocks to look like a continental booze swilling socialite. And I don’t like joggers who mock Helga either. I’ll take my booze and my joggers straight up.

To-do List = Screw it

There is a lot of shit I need to do today. I thought it might help me be “organized” and “productive” by making a list.

  1. The hole in my wall that my dog made needs fixed. I’m wondering if I can avoid fixing it right by filling it with unpaid bills and peanut butter.
  2. I found out that those bumpy things that African Americans can do with their hair is called Buntu knots. I want those but as a person of non-color, it is doubtful I can grow AA hair. Wig? Are there wigs like that? Google that for at least four hours.
  3. My loosely defined flower beds need weeded and the bushes trimmed. I hate yard work and there is poison ivy in with the actual ivy. I’m thinking about pouring gasoline on the whole damn thing and starting a new trend called Scorched Earth Gardening. Better call Southern Living and Better Homes and Gardens to book a photo shoot.
  4. Need to put baseboards back on the walls in the basement where I remodeled. I don’t like math or saws and figuring out how to miter the corners. Nevermind… this one is off the list.
  5. My eyebrows need grooming. They are growing all over my face. I saw an infomercial this morning for a home laser system. This sounds both dangerous and interesting. I would use it on the dog first. Rottweilers have eyebrows that I can practice on, and I have two rotties so that is 57 eyebrows. I’ll reiterate, I hate math.
  6. Need to look into changing my name so I’ll know what to do after I rob a bank. I’m thinking of Hugh Jaynus. That name changes my gender too so no one will find me.
  7. I got an email yesterday that my kid had better get on the ball and buy her textbooks for college. The listed books are quite expensive and I’m wondering if my kid can just “share” with some other kid. My kid has an iPhone and she can just take pictures of the pages to read later. It’s more eco-friendly and all that tree hugger bullshit, right?
  8. Laundry needs done. Hubs is wearing my underwear today. I’m not wearing any. I don’t mind going commando but he says his suit pants chaff the free range parts. We can’t have that, now can we?

Hope your to-do list is shorter today. I’m off to look at the shit that needs done and then go to the movies. Hey, at least I thought about doing productive stuff today. It’s a start.


This is the hole my dog created by making the blinds swing into the wall because a vicious jogger was in the street outside.

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My planter with weeds and I think the other picture is marijuana in my flower bed. God, I hope so. I think I’ll leave it alone to see if there might be something to roll up and smoke later.


The next time you see a picture of this dog, he will look like he got drunk at a party and someone creative shaved his eyebrow. There might be burn marks too. Then again, he might eat the laser thing before I get into the room with it.

How to Do a Line

Why does every damn trip to the store result in me in a check out line that is ten people deep? Why is the particular line that I’m in, no matter if there are 67 check outs to choose from, have the slowest people on God’s green earth? It’s a talent that I have that I could really live without.


Where the hell do all these people come from? Go home!!!

I needed to go pick up a clip on lamp for Twin B’s bed. I bought her one last week but Twin A decided that it was hers and once she owns something, may God have mercy on your soul if you think you’re getting it back. Small but fierce, that one.


The object of my desire.

I had a coupon and $10 worth of Kohl’s cash so off I went. They only had a few left so I didn’t end up being pissed off that they were out. That’s a good thing for my fellow shoppers because I tend to thrown myself down and into a fit most two year olds would envy when something on sale is sold out. I mean, I just can’t deal with that at all. For shits sake, I hauled myself into the car and down the road to your dumb store and you don’t even have the courtesy to have the item I want? How dare you….

Got the lamp and managed to not get anything else to buy. Not even underwear although I gazed longingly at that department as I walked by on the way to check out. As usual, they only had two check outs open and eighty million people in line. I eyeballed both lines to see which one was going to be the bigger pain in my ass that day. Glory be, I pick the slowest line every damn time. I always get behind the chick who has a buggy and/or armloads of crap, and then has a question, a pimple to discuss, or knows the check out lady’s baby mama. Sometimes it’s just a sad old lady who still writes checks in her wobbly handwriting and hasn’t talked to a real person in a month. I’m a bitch and I’m in a hurry, but I don’t need bad karma so I keep my mouth shut about slow old ladies in the check out.

I have a system that I use when the lines are long and all else fails and I need to get out quick. I try hard to get people to give up their stuff they want to buy to get the line moving. I’ll start up a little convo, like “hey, I bought that very same shirt a week ago and I washed it once and it fell apart.” BAM… good bye shirt. “Wasn’t there a recall last week on those chairs? Something about how they cut off kids fingers?” BAM… another one bites the dust. I’m quite good at that really. They should really make a documentary about how much shit I convince people NOT to buy.

However, today I wasn’t in the mood for my little game. There was fro-yo waiting for me at the end of this shopping excursion. After wasting five minutes in line and not even MOVING, I looked over and saw the lady working at the jewelry counter. Actually she wasn’t working, she was just moving shit around on the display. I sent Twin B over to see if she could check us out. The sigh this woman gave at this request echoed across the room. Tough shit, lady. Your job does suck.

Like the BOSS that I AM, I was outta there in a minute after that short cut. I glanced back at the line I was formally in and saw the glares from people still in line. Sucks to be you… I’m off to get some fro-yo, Yo!!!


Fatty fatty two by four. Me though, not this bag o’ bones kid.