From elderly ear sore to prophet in 10 short minutes

Dudes.

I was not planning on posting a new blog today. In fact my brain is basically the consistency of tapioca pudding that has been left out in the sun for about 2 hours, and then your outdoor cat finds it and licks it for a while before coughing a hairball into it. This is due to a certain course called Global Perspectives in Biology and the term paper from hell that tries to eat your smarts.

Anyway - point is, this is not like my normal blogs, this is more of a "WTF is happening right now?" post, and I pre-apologize for whatever the hell is about to spill from my head bowl.

I'm currently sitting in a lovely establishment that feeds me carbs and caffine and gives me wireless without being a bitch about it. (Starbucks and I DO NOT see eye to eye on the "free" wireless they offer in Florence, SC. But, I digress.) Anywho - there is a table across from me with a little old lady who is sitting there nursing her coffee and YELLING at her family members about the "tree murdering" Power company who came to her house to cut a tree off a power line.

"BUT, JOHN, IT HAD SUCH PRETTY LEAVES! NOT THE KIND WITH BROWN LEAVES, THIS WAS A RED LEAVED TREE!!" she says.

"Yes, mom, but it was ripped from the ground and tossed into a power line, it had to go." says the son who is most likely texting his older brother with "you get mom when she can't live alone anymore."

Secondly, she is a loud talker, I hate loud talkers. And no, shes not hard of hearing, so don't give me that. I've seen her "whisper" twice while using inappropriate language like "damn".

Just when I'm about to pack my shit and move to a table in Lithuania where I won't hear her boisterous voice, she lets out the gem I've been waiting for. Old people always have a sliver of wisdom to share ... and today, I've learned this from the loud talking anti-tree murdering grandmother:

"Sandy, never wear nice slacks when you go out for coffee, unless of course you need to go somewhere afterward, or - you are meeting someone special." wink.

Annnnnnd .... that is awesome. Thank you anti-tree murdering and possibly slightly slutty grandmother, you just went from an annoying elderly ear sore to a prophet.

Congrats. Your prophet diploma will come in the mail shortly. And it will be made from your red leaved tree.

Sweet justice.

Bagels and cream cheese,

Mel

American Idol is a front for illegal alien immigration. And by alien, I mean little green men ... yeah, you heard right.

I've been saying it for years, and now I have a platform to express my concerns. David Cook from the 7th season of American Idol looks just a little bit too much like Edgar from Men in Black.

You know, Edgar, the farmer dude who's all douchey to his wife and then an evil alien eats his insides and uses his body to walk around earth and devise a master plan for taking down all of mankind? Yeah, that Edgar. I mean, don't tell me MIB was not one of your favorite cinematic adventures EVER, it had Tommy Lee Jones AND Will Smith in it for crying out loud. Plus it had that talking pug ...

Anyway - I can't look at David Cook and not see Edgar...


I mean, yes, David is wearing a stylish man scarf, but the symmetry to Edgar's overall straps is frightening. Their hair has even got that "I was too busy being an alien to really deal with my hair style this morning" feel to it.

Not enough proof for you? Check this shit:

THEY MAKE THE SAME HAND MOVEMENTS.

Yes, David has more advanced control over his facial expressions, but really? REALLY? How am I the only one seeing this?!?!

I'm telling you people, David Cook is just an undercover front for an alien operation that runs deep in our government. When "D" day comes and David Cook's face explodes and out comes an alien war monger, I don't want to hear shit about it.

I told you so.

And ... I think Paula was on to the Idol/Alien conspiracy and that's why she booked. Bitch might be crazy, but she ain't harboring intergalactic beings crazy, ya dig?

Question everything ...

Mel

Eric math

So I promised that from time to to time to I would fill you in on all things Eric. Well today proved to provide some examples to help you understand, Eric math. Eric math is the combination of things that lead to an equation that equals Eric's mood. For instance, the following is always true:

Click on the photo to see it in all it's grandeur.

In English this means that Eric's 4WD trailblazer, plus tow straps, plus a stubborn evergreen bush will ALWAYS equal a happy, confident, over joyous, manly Eric.

That said, the following is ALSO always true:

Again, click that shit, you know you want to ...

Me, plus our outdoor gazebo, plus Eric ALWAYS equals Eric turning into a massive A-hole with over powering anger issues.

Without fail people, these two things you can count on. First of all, to equation #1, seriously, I've NEVER seen Eric unhappy when you combine his truck, and something that needs a good yankin'. Even when things get a little hairy and you think MAYBE just MAYBE he might get the truck stuck, or the stump might win this one, he's smiling all the while and saying things like "Boo yeah, baby!"

Now, when it comes to me, and the outdoor gazebo, that is another story. In equation #2, please note that I look radiant, down right happy, pleasant, some may say ... jubilant, even. There is not a hint of bitchy anywhere NEAR my face. Now, please also note that Eric, RIGHT from the get go, has decided to be a douche.

Here is the back story on the gazebo:

We purchased this thing for a great price a few years back, and we use it for parties, etc. a few times a year during the warmer months. This winter, we failed to take it down, and it got hit by an ice storm and needed some repairs. Also - it was smack in the middle of the side yard where we had had our last party the past Summer. So, it needed to be moved. ERIC HATES MOVING THIS THING. I have no idea why, since it comes apart lickity-split and is super light. You just take it apart, move it, put it back together. Granted it takes two people, but ummm hello? Do you see how jolly and friendly I look in this equation, why wouldn't you want to move a gazebo with me??

Ok - so maybe I am always a bit indecisive about where it should go, and maybe I am always unhappy with the angle at which the opening to the gazebo faces and it always needs a bit of tweaking, but really, the anger and bitchiness is not needed. It's not like he doesn't know its coming ....

Anyway - long story short, when I say to him "Sweety snookums pie lover, we need to move the gazebo." He looks at me like he would rather pull his eyelashes out one by one and pour rubbing alcohol in his eyes while giving himself eyeball paper cuts with a dirty 10 dollar bill. No matter WHAT Eric always ends up madder than a anorexic at an eating contest when it comes to this damn gazebo. Currently it is sorta where it needs to be ... which at the time, was just fine with me. It was better than watching him trying to fight the urge to eat my face. I mean when you are less than 37 seconds into the project and someone says to you, "listen, I'm telling you right now, I'm going to be annoyed with this." things can't get better from there. He does get a gold star for warning me straight up from the start that he planned on being a dick about it.

So anyway peeps, just a word to the wise. If you are ever hanging out with Eric and you have the choice to either A) help him yank shit out of the earth using his truck, or B) move my fucking devil bitch of a gazebo, chose A. Unless of course there is an option C) pulling your eyelashes out one by one and pouring rubbing alcohol in your eyes while giving yourself eyeball paper cuts with a dirty 10 dollar bill. I'm sure Eric would agree that C is still better than B.