When your banana becomes a God

I am a ‘learn something new’ kind of gal.

The weirder the better. So when that normal guy asked me to open a banana I gave him a weird look and obliged.

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He then flat out told me I was wrong.

Umm, you can’t open a banana wrong, fool.

He showed me a ‘different’ way.

Then this happened: ……….

That’s right. I had no words for this badassery.

Turns out since I was a wee pup I’ve been stupidly trying to open a banana with difficulty.

Correction. My ass used a knife to cut off the top so I could tear in to the top to reach this ridiculous fruit.

So what did I learn?

That normal guy is still a jerk for telling me I’m wrong.

I will now eat bananas differently.

I have a new appreciation for weirdos on you tube who show us semi-cool things.

Here’s your something new… Pass it on: Peel a Banana like a Badass

Why am I not wearing any pants?

Thoughts during an important phone call conversation SHOULD be what you’ll say next. Yes, this is mostly the case for me… however there are a few extra bits that take over my brain and I focus on them. Thank God as women we can multi-task… and men think they do (only kidding, but not really).

Recent events left me feeling insecure about my clothing choices.

the radio interview was supposed to begin promptly. It did not. No one is taking blame here (because I don’t like taking blame)… it just happened.

When we were finally connected my business partner and I were ready to take on the world! From our homes. With a glass of wine, or a kitten on our lap. My business partner had the wine and she was probably lounging in the living room or some place normal like the kitchen. I was in my bed. Under the covers. With a cat settled on my lap.

Was I nervous? No… Was I preoccupied? Absolutely.

This interview was happening late at night. My hair was a mess from work and travel. I had tried to change into my pajamas after putting my little girl down to sleep but only managed half way. That’s right folks… I didn’t have my pants. And it’s all I could focus on.

Why am I not wearing pants? Will they notice? Does my voice sound different without pants on?

Once I convinced myself I sounded no different I moved on to the following thoughts:

1. Keep my cat quiet. I don’t want her meowing and then a listener hearing and not buying our book beacuse they don’t like cats.

2. Do I sound like a man?

3. I really wish I had pants. My legs are cold – even under the sheets.

4. Thank goodness I at least had time to put a top on.

5. Why did I pick a bean out of my hand in my dream last night? Did it have magical powers? Is that why it hurt like hell?

Going Penananas at the Office

Everyone knows how important pens are, especially the ones that we call our favorite. We take it everywhere with us and when it’s lost we mourn while searching. Well last week a pen had gone missing from someones hand and landed by the candy jar in my office. Once the owner was identified a few of us decided they needed a lesson on their forgetfulness.

There names have been changed for unnecessary safety precautions (mostly because it’s cool to rename people).

From: Landia, Bored
Sent: Wednesday, November 13, 2013 3:47 PM
To: LaFleur, Johanna
Cc: Yell, Liz; Lewis, Mara; Brownsville, Patti
Subject: Pen Ransom

Hi,

This is your pen. I’m being held hostage. Please send money… your best offer.

Pen

Sincerely,
SAVE ME!

From: Landia, Bored
Sent: Wednesday, November 13, 2013 3:49 PM
To: LaFleur, Johanna
Cc: Yell, Liz; Lewis, Mara; Brownsville, Patti
Subject: FW: Pen Ransom

Hi, this is your pen again. My hostages are giving you a hint…

I’m at Miceli’s Restaurant with Helen Waite. Please come find me and bring money. I can’t write without you.

From: LaFleur, Johanna
Sent: Wednesday, November 13, 2013 4:16 PM
To: Landia, Bored
Cc: Yell, Liz; Lewis, Mara; Brownsville, Patti
Subject: RE: Pen Ransom

I miss you dear Pen, sleep well in the company of strangers! A night away from me will do you good—I’m pretty sure these are good people at heart!
I would write a check for the ransom, but I don’t have my pen (or a check actually)!

From: Landia, Bored
Sent: Thursday, November 14, 2013 6:47 AM
To: LaFleur, Johanna
Cc: Yell, Liz; Lewis, Mara; Brownsville, Patti
Subject: RE: Pen Ransom

Dear Owner,

My quarters were dark and chilling. Has anyone mentioned the office is like an iceberg around here? When with you I feel cozy and warm. You just left me to suffer a painful existence being used by those carelessly reaching for their latest candy craving.

I only wish you’ll come for me before it’s too late or quite possibly this is farewell.

Your lonely forgotten friend,
Pen

From: LaFleur, Johanna
Sent: Thursday, November 14, 2013 7:42 AM
To: Landia, Bored
Cc: Yell, Liz; Lewis, Mara; Brownsville, Patti
Subject: RE: Pen Ransom

Never fear dear Pen, I’ve had a team doing reconnaissance work all night (they were the ones you might have seen wearing masks and black down jackets to fight off the bitter cold ). My plan is ready to launch, an exchange will be made, and you will be back home safe in my left hand today!
Stay positive!
Me

From: Landia, Bored
Sent: Thursday, November 14, 2013 7:44 AM
To: LaFleur, Johanna
Cc: Yell, Liz; Lewis, Mara; Brownsville, Patti
Subject: RE: Pen Ransom

I fear it might be too late… I’ve become a righty now.

From: LaFleur, Johanna
Sent: Thursday, November 14, 2013 7:47 AM
To: Landia, Bored
Cc: Yell, Liz; Lewis, Mara; Brownsville, Patti
Subject: RE: Pen Ransom

Oh no you didn’t!

End Result: The hostage was released and the owner brought her reward – Chocolate and Fruit Snacks. The pen and it’s owner are now walking down the hallway as they once were and she will never let go of her friend again… once she’s got her back to being a lefty that is.

War Wound – The Boob Burn

War wound – the boob burn

Babies are magical beings. They have a way of screaming and getting whatever they want.

As adults mimicking their mannerisms leads us straight to a psych ward in a straight jacket.

As one of my newly acquired daily activities I was prepping new bottles by following directions. Boiling them in water before fixing one for Blair.

Exhaustion does not prepare you of warn you to be careful. You realize it’s hot water. You do not need to be told to NOT spill it on yourself – however being the tired and not overly cautious person I am – Crap happened.

Picture this:

I’m minding my own business. Waters boiled, bottles perfected and ready to be served room temp. All I have to do is retrieve them.

I look around for my protector. The end of a wooden spoon catches my eye – perfect! I can avoid burning the shit out my hands and get them dry with ease.

The wooden spoon handle makes contact with the inside of the bottle. I lift – not so carefully – thinking I have just the right angle to perfect my craft.

Then S-L-O-W-M-O-T-I-O-N hits as the bottle drops back into the water creating a massive tsunami that lands on the left side of my shirt. BAM it burns.

As a psycho I pull my shirt over my head and run to complain to that normal guy that it hurt like a bitch.

He laughs and says ‘Why would you do that to your boob?’

He also wises up and tells me to slap aloe Vera on it. And boy did I.

Today I have a war wound – three perfect circles on my First Class A cup. No, I will not so pictures – this is not a porn story.

Hair Salons, one of the safest places in America

When the ‘Safest Places in America’ comes out I’m always curious to know what they used to come up with these statistics. Half the time it’s also paired with lame city life which naturally equals no crime. I’m a firm believer that you can live anywhere and still be safe.

Ask yourself:

Are you running from something?

Do you have people who hate you AND own guns?

Did you kid beat someone in a competition at school?

All of these put you at risk for lack of safey and frankly there is no reason to blame the state because your kid is better at t-ball than someone’s over emotional kid.

Some solutions:

If you’re a thief STOP IT and they’ll stop coming after you.

Replace their guns with water guns that way a fight can turn into a fun frenzy.

And teach your kid the art of losing. It’s part of surviving school.

If you chose not to follow any of the above from some off-the-wall strange reason, I’ve come up with a new list.

5 safe places no matter where you’re at in the world, unless that place is nowhere.

1. Your home… with the door locked, and the alarm one.

2. Prison – Where the guards chill. Behind the desk, where they have glass protecting them from the criminals. Or solitary confinement.

3. Under bridges – though find your own, hobos can be nasty.

4. Hair Salons – No person gets between a girl and their hair.

5. Hospitals – If something happens they’ll patch you up. So a stabbing could happen but at least help is available, so that sort of counts.

Anything you’d like to add?

Restroom Dump – What really weighs on people besides their last meal

The twisted minds of those who enter a stall and decide their thoughts are worth being written on the inside of a bathroom wall.

1. Beverly P. – Loves Trains – ###-###-####

She’s an original alright.

2. Please don’t do coke in the bathroom.

Why not give an alternative location?

3. Pooh (h crossed off)

I could see this individual giggling up a storm and upsetting their stall neighbors.

4. I abuse laxatives. Want to quit. No rehab center is willing to help. Looking to start a group. Join forces at ###-###-####

Umm…. yikes

Bathroom Movie Edition

Poop Trek – A Man taking a journey in a far away land in search of the perfect porcelain god.

Silver linings poopbook – A diary for personal bowels.

The Farting Games – A secluded house holds twelve house guests for thirty days. The competition? Fart out the bad eggs and win the most expensive procelain gold toilet.

We’ve heard the voices of restrom dumpers and still reserve the right to judge. You’re all nuts.

 

Poptarts are sexy and that means Surburbia is sexy again…

Target has nailed it’s latest campaign to make household chores, get this, sexy.

The everday collection now makes me proud to wear my little black dress out shopping – after all, picking up steak, doing laundry, bake sales, and getting poptarts ready for school, that’s the new date night in Suburbia.

Thanks Target, you’ve outdone yourself.