This is why my dad rocks…

All I could say after seeing it was “Holy Christ, that was truly one of the funniest things I’ve ever seen in my LIFE!”.

This is hysterical


Thanks, dad! Listening to you giggle like a 5 year old was almost as funny as the video.

I was a meme virgin until…

Lattégirl tagged me.

Seven weird things about me

1) I eat in my sleep.
2) I fantasize about being a ninja (or a Jedi).
3) I think testicles are stupid looking.
4) I sit in my back yard late at night, half naked and contemplate life.
5) I can talk people into doing really stupid shit.
6) I hate nickels!
7) My inner voice sounds like Darth Vader.


Now I tag people:

DS @ I Must Be Slipping
Rose @ Great Googly Moogly
Tuna Girl @ Tuna Blog
Kilroy_60 @ Fear And Loathing
Trinity 67 @ Thoughts…

None of you should in any shape, way or form feel obligated to do this retarded meme…I did it cause I got excited about it being my first and well, I dig Lattégirl (not like that you perv!)

Year of the infant

How many people in my world would I just love to ask “Could you take a moment out of you busy schedule to grow the fuck up?” There are way too many “adults” consistently acting like selfish children. Don’t get me wrong here, I know selfish- I helped write the definition of the word. I’m no stranger to the word childish either (I think my blog exemplifies this). Judge not….yeah, yeah, yeah…I make no qualms about acting like a 5 year old. My point here is the consistent nature of if. This shit isn’t a weekend behavior for them, it’s a fucking lifestyle!

Oyez, people! This is becoming laughably stupid! You’d think the definitions of the words themselves would be easy enough for the average “adult” to understand. However, putting the definition of “Adult” to work and “Child” to bed seems a very difficult task for some. Here, let’s take a look…

“Adult”

a·dult
(plural a·dults)

n
1. fully grown life form: a fully mature person, animal, plant, or other form of life
2. somebody legally adult: somebody who has reached the age of legal majority, generally 18 years of age in the United States

adj
1. completely grown: fully developed and mature
an adult male
adult life
2. for somebody mature: involving, relating to, or meant for mature people
adult education
3. unsuitable for children: considered unsuitable for young people because of pornography, violence, or sexually explicit language

[Mid-16th century. <>




“Child”

child [chīld]
(plural chil·dren)

n
1. young human being: a young human being between birth and puberty
2. human offspring: a son or daughter of human parents
3. somebody not yet of age: somebody under a legally specified age who is considered not to be legally responsible for his or her actions
4. baby: a baby or infant
5. unborn baby: a baby that has not yet been born
6. immature adult: an adult who is regarded as behaving in a childish or inappropriately childlike way
7. product or result: somebody or something considered to be either produced or strongly influenced by a particular environment, period, or historical figure
a child of nature
a child of the 1960s
8. descendant or member of people: a descendant of somebody, or a member of a people with a common ancestor or geographic origin (often used in the plural)
children of Abraham

[ Old English cild ]
with child pregnant (archaic or literary)


That doesn’t seem so complex does it, or did I miss something? Don’t take my (or Webster's) word for it- this shit is biblical people! And you don’t have to be a Christian to see it, comprehend it and agree with it. Seriously, I shit you not! It’s in Corinthians dead smack in the middle of the biblical definition of the word “Love“ (another rant for another time)…here’s what it says…

“ ……When I was a child, I used to speak like a child, think like a child, reason like a child; when I became a man, I did away with childish things….”

"I did away with childish things"! I didn’t write that! It’s an age old concept- God says so!

So why is it so hard for friends, family and coworkers to put adulthood to practice? Because it’s easier to make the world miserable with you while you throw your stupid waste of time tantrums day in and day out. Misery truly does love company.

I can see looking to adopt childlike qualities but there’s a big damn difference between “childlike” and “childish”. I can’t be the only person in my world that owns a dictionary and has a desire wear her big girl pants occasionally….can I?

My recommendation to these people? Start a fucking blog and throw your little tantrums there- bitch till your little heart’s content! Then, (and I can't possibly stress this enough) walk away from it! You’ll be saving everyone in your world a lot of time, heartache and unnecessary drama.

Happy Mothers Day...

To the worlds greatest dad!!!

I didn’t go to the gym last night but I did the next best thing…

I went out with the girls- because nothing says “Fuck the past two weeks!” quite like an assload of booze. Below is proof that I will jump at the chance to show my ass in public at every given opportunity. No, I don’t party with faceless torso’s- the faces of the not so innocent have been removed.

Here we see how Saturday a week ago started out. Tame..

A few drinks later and we're table dancing...



It is discovered at some point during the evening that I am indeed female (and a complete idiot- as are my cohorts) despite my manishness...

A week of hell and pandemonium pass (see two posts below), bringing us to last night.... so we do it again (no table dancing this time)...




What’s on tonight’s agenda? God only knows…Tabby just came into town!

And there you have it, proof I deserve a Darwin award (or a 12 step program)!

It’s a depressing state of affairs!

Well if this post over a Dyck's place doesn't make you want to just go out and shoot yourself in the face (no offense Old Yeller) I don't know what does. It's not so much the actual post as it is the situation that royally shits on your day. Well, that and I saw a dead guy laying in the middle of the road on the way home from work.

Side Note: If you’re going to ride a motorcycle- a helmet is not a bad idea, unless you don’t mind your head being squashed in the road and looking like a pumpkin thrown from a 5th story window for all (myself included) to behold.

I’m sorry Dyck is having to go through this especially because he wasn’t called to “Come on down!” on The Price Is Right. (and I thought I had a bad week!)

If it makes ya feel any better Dyck, I’ll call ya to come on down (if the price is right, that is).

Yeah, I know, Hardy-Fuckin-Har-Har!

101 reasons I am the coolest person that ever lived

1/ You can call me at 11pm on a Monday night and tell me that your wife (my coworker) is in the Navy E.R. and I will haul ass to get to her and in getting to her I will inconvenience a very close friend who happens to be a member of a local police dept. to get me on base (who I still can‘t thank enough!).

2/ I will drill your wife’s doctors with my limited medical knowledge to make certain she is top priority and well taken care of.

3/ I will hold her hair out of her face while she projectile vomits.

4/ I will work her shifts as well as my own.

5/ I will buy her really expensive flowers and make everyone at work chip in.

6/ I will show you my boobies if you’re having a bad day. Okay, so I’m kidding on that one! (or am I?)

7/ You can call me from North Carolina while I’m at work after you’ve had an appendectomy freaking the fuck out and ask me to go back to the fucking navy E.R. because your husband broke his leg and has no one in the city to help take care of him until a family friend can make it up from Orlando.

8/ I will throw out my fucking back by assisting the staff at said hospital in splinting your husbands leg.

9/ I will not look at your husbands package while said procedure is taking place.

10/ I will consult with your and his surgeons to make sure they know someone who knows what the hell is going on is keeping an eye on things.

11/ I will do all of the above while incredibly ill but you won‘t know it.

12/ I will punch you in the fucking head if you say one word about me smoking again because of all the stress I‘m under. Okay, so that one doesn’t make me cool.

13/ I will fix your husbands IV lines all 800 times the fucking alarm on the machine goes off.

14/ I will make sure that you and your spouse get only the best drugs during your respective stays at the hospital.

15/ I will do all of the above and more with a smile on my face and will not tell you how stressed I am, how sick I’ve been or cry in front of you.


This is going to be longwinded and boring so you might as well just skip it. I sure as hell wish I could have.

Okay so basically the story goes like this…Monday afternoon one of my coworkers (Military Wife- some of you may recall her from prior posts) calls me and asks if I’ll cover her shift- she feels really bad and wants to go home. Sure, no problem…I‘m here to help. Monday night around 11pm her husband calls and tells me she is in the Navy E.R. with severe abdominal pain. She sent him home earlier in the afternoon but asked him to call me so I could tell everyone at work she probably wouldn’t be coming in the next day. Something in my gut twists. I have a feeling the “abdominal pain” is a much larger problem than “Oh, I’m just crampy”. The fact that she’s on a morphine drip later confirms this. I asked him if I could get on base since she was there alone and he said probably not. I convey to a friend what’s going on and that I have to get on base. Said friend calms me the hell down, meets me at the base and is able to get me to her in the E.R. I sit with her, talk to her doctors, make sure they keep her drugged because she is in intense pain and try to keep an eye on things as they perform multiple tests to diagnose what‘s going on.

By 5:30 Tuesday morning it’s official she has and appendicitis and needs to go to surgery. I went outside, called her husband, told him to get back to the hospital so she can get prepped for surgery. At 6:30am I leave assuring her I’ll get everything squared away at work. Later that evening after her surgery I get into a minor fender bender (said law enforcement friend to the rescue AGAIN!) while on my way to take her flowers and food (because the universe not only wants to fuck with me but wants to fuck with my car too).

Wednesday she is released from the hospital and leaves town to go to North Carolina with her mom (a trip they’d planned months before). At this point I am smoking again so I decided to start the Chantix again which ends up making me deathly ill (I should have started at .05mg but I started at 1mg. Yes, I am a dumbass). That day I schedule a doctors appointment for Thursday at 11am since I’m sick as hell because of the Chantix. Still I want to take it because I want to quit smoking again and it works.

Thursday, I’m due at my doctors appointment at 11am and work by 1pm. So along comes Thursday afternoon. I’d taken promethazine the night before to stop puking my guts up so naturally I missed my fucking 11am appointment. They tell me they can get me in at 3, I tell them I’ll be at work, they tell me the soonest they can see me after is sometime next week. What the fuck ever! I am NOT going to be this sick for another 4 or 5 days. I went to work at 1 and saw that we were overstaffed. So I tell my Pharmacist that I’m going to take an extended lunch, drive across the fucking city during the start of rush hour to get to my doctors appointment. I get back at 4:30 feeling like crap with a hand full of scripts from my doc and am ready to get back to work, finish my day and go home. Could it have possibly been that easy? Hell no! Of course not, this is me were talking about here!

One of the kids I’m training shouts across the pharmacy “Aza, you’ve got a call on 101 and it doesn’t sound good!” I answered the phone and it was Military Wife in hysterics. I say “MW, calm down and tell me what’s going on.” She then proceeds to tell me she’s in excruciating pain from the appendectomy, she’s in North Carolina, she’s allergic to the pain meds and I have to go back to the Naval E.R. “RIGHT NOW!!!!” All I could muster for a response at that point was “Ummm, what?” she responds hysterically with “My husband broke his fucking leg and there’s no one to help him but you until I can get my friend from Orlando to come!”.

At this point my eyes were brimming as I looked over at my Rph and shook my head. I told her I’d take care of it and hung up. Sooooo, half an hour later (around 6:30ish) I’m pulling into the E.R. parking lot. I get in, get things dealt with, update MW and wait for the friend from Orlando to come. During my wait a nurse walks in and asks him one of the most retarded questions I’ve ever heard in my life- “So, how’s your pain level between 1 and 10, 10 being the worst pain you’ve ever experienced?” I sat there staring at her for a moment trying to digest what I’d just heard and whether or not I’d heard it correctly. Finally I said “Uh, both bones in his left leg are broken and at the break they splintered into 4 or 5 pieces. I’d have to say, and MW Husband please correct me if I’m wrong here, that his pain level is at about a ’Fuck This!‘. Does that sound about right MW Husband?” he nodded, she stomped out of the room to go get more meds.

10pm rolls around, my lower back and shoulders are killing me, I’ve assisted in splinting his leg, have dealt with his fucked up IV lines, yelled at a bunch of fucking incompetent people, am covered in plaster and am praying I can make it out of there without injuring anyone. The friend from Orlando finally walks in the room MW’s husband is set up in for the night. I explain to her everything that’s happening- what time he’s going in for surgery the next day blah, blah, blah, blah…..ad infinitum.

I come home totally emotionally exhausted and feeling completely numb. I’ve not slept more than a few hours in 4 days, I’m sick and I’ve been pulled in a thousand directions at once. So I lay in bed and stare at the ceiling, play around on my cell and try to get my brain to shut down. I don’t actually get to sleep until around 10:30am this morning because as tired as I was I just couldn’t shut down- then I’m back up by noon after being jarred awake by a storm of nightmares and I’m running again. His surgery didn’t go as well as planned and he now has a shit load of new hardware in his leg but at least he made it through and is in recovery.

My plans for tomorrow? I’m going to go to work, come home, try to exist in peace and maybe, just maybe go to the gym. Or kick the ever loving shit out of the first fucking person that looks at me wrong. I’m still undecided.

Ugh

I’d post something clever about friends going through appendectomies, smoking like a fiend, Navy hospitals and all of the goofy stuff going on in my world at the moment….However, I’m sick as a dog and have to go to hell work.

Yay! *barf*