Random Esquire

1.  My life would be complicated if I were an Oscar Mayer wiener.  Here is how I came to that conclusion.

I was eating a corndog from Trader Joe’s. Turns out it is actually made from soy but it occurred to me that it had been so long since I’d eaten an actual hot dog that I don’t even really remember what the hell they taste like.  This made me think of hot dogs at the ball park. Then I thought of Ball Park Franks.  Then I thought of Oscar Mayer and that weiner song:

“Oh, I wish I were an Oscar Mayer wiener; that is what I’d truly like to be. Cause if I were an Oscar Mayer wiener, everyone would be in love with me.”

And I thought about it… can you imagine what it would be like if everyone was in love with you? What a sordid, dirty mess.

That’s when I decided that my life would be complicated if I were an Oscar Mayer wiener.

2.  As I walked through a parking lot today, I saw an orange on the ground. My first thought was that I wanted to throw it. It was about the size of a baseball and I wondered if I could throw it all the way across the parking lot. This made me imagine playing catch in a parking lot and I wondered if someone would say that was stupid because there could be a wild throw that ended up with a baseball busting through a car window. But that didn’t seem as likely with an orange. Unless, of course, it was the middle of winter and the orange was frozen solid.

I left the orange alone.

3.  Little Filthy had some bumps on the back of his neck, on the skin – flaky bumps. When I tried to look at them, he would jump if I touched them. So he went to the vet today. He got a full check-up, routine shots, etc. They did a fungal and bacterial check on the bumps… both negative. But he got an antibacterial shot and some shampoo and if it isn’t better in a week, he goes back for a skin biopsy. He got home exhausted after the day at the vet and I gave him some wet food. This pleased him. Then I gave him a bath.  This displeased him. Then when I made him sit on a chair and covered him with some pink blankets?  Then he was downright pissed.

1.  Instigator sent me an IM on Monday that said, “Random, I had a terrible dream about you.”

Inwardly, I flinched, wondering if she was going to relay the gruesome details of my demise from her dream.  I said, “What happened?”

She said, “You spur of the moment decided that you were moving out of Chicago. Like, to L.A. or something. You are not allowed to move. F.Y.I.”

I blinked.  That’s it? I moved out of town?

I said, “I thought you were going to say I died or something.”

Instigator responded:  ”Same thing. You leave, you are dead to me.”

2.  After relaying more of my cut finger saga (which I am now referring to as the Finger Flesh Flap debacle) to a friend, I asked how her day was going.  She said, “Great! Glad you’re having a good day, too!”

I paused.

I asked what part of FFF lead her to believe that I’d had a good day.

She politely informed me that she was being sarcastic.

D’oh!  I said, “I’m too literal!”

Her response?

“More like gullible.”

3.  Nurse at Urgent Care looking at my FFF wound: “Why didn’t you come in for stitches?”

RE: “I don’t know. I figured it had to stop bleeding sometime.”

Nurse: “Did you clean it with anything?”

RE:  ”Ummm… Vodka.”

Nurse:  ”Vodka.”

RE:  ”Yes. But, I didn’t use a flavored kind.  I could have used blueberry, raspberry or vanilla. But I used plain.”

Nurse:  ”Had you had some to drink before then?”

RE:  ”No…why?”

Nurse: “Because you make decisions like a drunk.”

End of year means I end up spending the rest of my flex pay stocking up on various OTC medications lest my immune system fail me and I suffer a cold.  I studied a box of cold medicine today.  A couple of things struck me.

First, it said “Keep away from children.”  What do these people take me for, an idiot? If I have a cold, I’m obviously not going to be playing with children and infecting them.  Duh.

Second, the directions said “take with a full glass of water.”  I have two sizes of glasses in my cupboards.  One is about 10 ounces.  The other is around 16.  I wondered which one they meant.  I suppose they don’t even know what sizes I have so there must be some generic equivalent of a glass.  So I did what any red blooded American would do.

I googled that shit.

“Depends on the size of the glass” was a popular response.  Thank you, Google. But apparently, most people take a glass as the equivalent of a cup – 8 ounces.  So, take with a full 8 ounces.

Which made me wonder why a pharmaceutical company wouldn’t find it in their best interest to be more specific?  For instance: “Take with at least 8 ounces of water.”  Maybe they were more concerned about specifying that it should be water instead of, say, the generic ‘liquid‘ which I readily admit may allow me to interpret this loose language by chasing my medication with a beer.  And since a beer is 12 ounces, I’d feel rather like I’d complied fully as directed.

This then made me wonder what would happen if I tried to dry swallow the pill.  Or just suck on it until it melted away, like hard candy.  Surely, I’d swallow at least a few ounces of my own spit doing that, wouldn’t I? Though, honestly, the idea or recollection that we spend much of our day more or less swallowing our own spit was distasteful enough to think about that I briefly considered just becoming an open mouth drooler.

This then got me thinking about open-mouthers – a.k.a. Mouth Breathers.  Perhaps I’ve judged them too harshly.  While I previously just assumed that they had little concern for things other than rolling 16 sided dice and getting in line for the latest Will Shortz book, perhaps they are just hoping that they will swallow less spit purely through evaporation.

It occurs to me that I overthink some things.

1.  I have just decided to refer to masturbation as ‘self-soothing.’

I don’t masturbate.  I self-soothe.

Life skills, people.

2.  I went to dinner with a friend last week who insisted I not dare her to do something because she can not resist a dare.  Naturally, I dared her to steal some silverware.  Without hesitation, she picked up a serving spoon and stuck it in her back pocket without a second thought.  I laughed.

I mean, I laughed until she went to go use the restroom and walked across the restaurant with one of their huge serving spoons sticking out of her back pocket.

She returned and said softly, “I don’t even want to tell you what happened in the bathroom.”

Apparently, she forgot about the spoon until that split second before touchdown, when she heard it *plop!* into the toilet behind her.  I laughed, picturing the many people who would be wondering why a serving spoon was at the bottom of a toilet.

She looked at me and said, “I felt bad! It could have ruined their plumbing…”  I lifted my eyebrows.

Yup.  She retrieved the spoon.

I didn’t ask any questions.

3.  FAP FAP FAP.

1.  Whenever a male chef describes food as ‘sexy’, I can’t help but wonder if he’s ever seen a woman.

2.  I’m grumpy.  I don’t like the word crabby.  It’s too… something.

3.  QTMama and I are negotiating a blog marriage.  Except she thinks that it still requires a ring and a proposal from me.  I think, at best, it may warrant a slap on the ass.

My ass, that is.

4.  I feel the need to buy something. I’m not sure what, exactly. But I’d like some new gadget.  I’m getting a Droid 2 for work so I hope that scratches the itch.  Otherwise, I may need a new car.  We’ll see.

5.  Besos has me on a budget.

It began with a delicate conversation in which she asked me what the bloody hell I was doing with my paycheck, over half of which I was, apparently, spending on …something.  Hell if I know.  After my student loans were paid off, I took a 6 month hiatus from giving a damn.

Frankly, I might make it a life philosophy.

Nevermind what got me to this video…

but once I watched it, I imagined it was the kind of video Liz Lemon would make while home alone on a Saturday night. I can’t stop laughing at it!

Today… I made change for a prostitute.

I walked into a gas station and a certain lady of the evening was at the counter, trying to buy… cigars.

I know.

The irony.

She turned to me and said, “Baby, you got change for a fifty?”

I reached into my pocket and pulled out two twenties and two fives.

She handed me a fifty.  I shoved it in my pocket.

She said, “Thank you so much, baby. You sweet.”

Then she turned and bought some Swisher Sweets, peeled one open and licked it.  Right there in the gas station while the attendant and I stood awkwardly watching.

I take entertainment where I can get it.

Rubbermoon sent a gift for Little Filthy. He loves it!

1. I don’t want to ask my client how she’s gone through life thus far without developing any coping skills but I am genuinely curious because I feel like her method could be patented.

2. There is this great misconception with people who equate having the right to do something with it being a right thing to do. Or that having an opinion makes it worth hearing. No, no, people. No, no.

3. I almost made it all the way through Spanish class last night without a single misunderstanding. That is, until the end of class when the teacher said “I will see your balls!”

At least, this is what I heard.

This is partly due to the following reasons:

a) We have not yet learned the days of the week.
b) Thursday, in Spanish, is ‘Jueves’ which sounds like “hway-ves”
c) Eggs, in Spanish, are ‘Huevos’ which sounds like “hway-vos”
d)  ‘Huevos’ is slang for testicles/balls.

The rest of it is due to the fact that I’m an idiot and thought that it would be cool to read a book about Spanish slang.

In fact, my teacher was merely saying, “I will see you Thursday.”

2 classes down, only 6 more to go!