Wednesday, October 19, 2011

Things I don't understand but I'm going to blog about anyway. Part 2.

Neighbor tailgaters.

And I don't mean the kind that show up before a Chief's game either.

So we were on our way to school and this ass-hat comes flying out of the subdivision and plants herself right on my back bumper.  She's all waving her hands, "I've got places to go, don't you know who I am," kind of deal, screaming at me, the whole nine yards.  Call it a physiological reaction, I don't know, but I slip right on down to 35 mph.  Every Single Time.  This woman does this same song and dance every morning and we're both going to the same place---school.  Knock it off and start acting like an appropriate role model for your kids.  You're embarrassing yourself.


People who jog in the road.  Against traffic.

There should be a law against that.  I mean seriously, you're running around in the subdivision where none of us driving are actually watching the road.  We're all yelling at the kids in the back seat, trying to see who has their jacket, who forgot lunch and for fucks sake, "STOP HITTING YOUR SISTER."  So, NO, I'm not exactly looking for you when you're running against traffic and I damn near kill you.  I wouldn't be so upset about it but then I just know you went ahead and procreated so now I'm responsible for killing you although technically you died by your own stupidity.  And what really pisses me off is that you passed your genes on to someone else.  Your line is not dead and they are probably equally as stupid.  Matter of fact, it's probably your shitty little kid that's poking fun of mine right now.


Old mean nurses.

I swear they all wind up at my OB's office or General Practitioner's office.  It's like they're put out to pasture and let loose on the general public.  Wrong.  Wrong.  Wrong.  This old bat had the nerve to chastise me for being ten minutes early, not the requisite twenty, and then had the stones to tell me the doctor was running thirty minutes late.  To which I said, "Well, then I'm really right on time.  See how nicely that all worked out?"  To which she gave me the bitter lemon face.  You know, that face you make after you stick your mouth on a lemon, if you're stupid enough to do so.  Bitter lemon face.  She had it.  Bad.


The fact our crabs are still alive.

Can I just tell you, I'm totally over these disgusting little tarantulas in a shell?  Two actually had the nerve to molt and I found spare limbs and body parts all over the crabitat.  Yes, that's actually a word.  And you thought I was weird?  There pages and pages out there on crab love.  Check it out.  You'll have your hand over your mouth in horror, I guarantee it.

I checked in on them the other morning and one of them was eating all the other crab-molted body bits.  Disgusting.  Now one refuses to crawl back into its shell.  I thought for sure it was going to die and four days later it's still hanging on.  I've had to separate it from the other two and buy more shells than it deserves and the damn thing refuses all my offerings.  It won't die or get better.  It's just lingering.


These signs that are on all of our electric utility boxes outside:


See, this just makes me want to go put a stick in there and see what happens.  Aside from his frown it looks like fun.  At least that's what I think and it scares me more than a little.  My kids are just like me and I know it's a matter of time before I see one of them with a stick going for a green box.  Because how cool would it be to see your skeleton with all your clothes still on?  Pretty darn cool.


My mom still stalking me and all of you.

You are out of bounds.  You've still come back here and have gone to other blogs from the comment section and it's beyond frustrating.  STOP IT.  Other bloggers think I am stalking them since YOU are out on their blogs.  I'll explain it to you: since we both live in the same house, we use the same network.  So it looks like ME visiting other blogs when it is really you.  It looks like I'm the weirdo not you.

STOP IT.  Get your own friends and leave mine alone.

To my other blogger friends, please accept my apologies for my mother stalking you and hanging out on your blog and not leaving any comments.

Mom, if you want to find anything out about me walk your ass upstairs and ASK.  This is an invasion of privacy, its weird and I'm over it.



Epitaph: On the fifth, yes fifth, day the crab finally bit it.  Lizzy sobbed like she was up for an academy award and then promptly asked for a replacement.  



Now we have two new crabs, a ton of extra shells for them to do whatever they do in them and purple sand.  See Alex's great job of lining up the empty shells???  The middle-right one was really annoying him as the aperture is on the opposite side and it wasn't going the "right way."  And yes, he had a meltdown over that but it didn't phase him that the sand was PURPLE and they have a PUMPKIN.  Go figure.  



26 comments:

  1. 1) joggers running against traffic. Alright. . . as someone who once jogged outside on roads I can tell you that you're SUPPOSED to jog against traffic. If you jog WITH traffic then the person who comes up behind you (and is therefore CLOSEST to you) can't be seen. So you're inches away from someone who is behind you. When you jog against traffic the person who comes up behind you is in the FAR lane. The person coming AT you is inches away. If they swerve, you see it and can avoid (in theory).

    The last time I ever jogged in the morning (a fine, dark, fall morning) a guy with his brights on came around a bend a little too close and I elected to step off the road. . . into some guys lawn. . . which he'd apparently boobie-trapped by stacking grass clippings on top of a rock garden. I sank into the grass clippings unexpectedly to my knee and cracked my shin off a rock. I was bleeding fairly liberally as I limped home and began my regular 'treadmill' jogging from that moment on.

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  2. 2) Crabs. Steam, butter, delicious!

    3) Utility box paragraphs made me laugh.

    4) Your mom. You mean it hasn't been you commenting my blog?

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  3. LOL! I TOTALLY share your subdivision road rage! What a bunch of dumb-asses! We have this one neighbor (who has a daughter the same age as mine) who comes *FLYING* around the circle all the time. OK... I get it... your kid is safely buckled into her car seat, but what about everyone else's? How would YOU like it if I did that? *Sigh*

    Sorry about the hermit crabs. Have you tried putting drain-o in their little crabby food? ;-)

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  4. Oh my God this was hysterical.
    The subdivison mom's, the subdivion joggers - I hate them as well and wish I could plow them down. They act so self righteioius - look at me I'm joggin - you bad person in the car - I can take up the whole friggin' road.

    Thankfully my mother and family don't know where my blog is and really don't give a rats @#$%. :-)Your mom should start her own blog.

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  5. We have these weird things in our neighborhood called sidewalks. Since I'm smarter than the average suburbanite, I understand that these paved walkways are for WALKING, riding a bike, running, etc. . .But 95% of my neighbors haven't the slightest clue as to how to use those concrete things that run alongside the roadways. They run, jog, walk, etc . . in the street.....and so do their children.

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  6. Off to check our blog's stats... I'm dying to know if we have a stalker!!! It would be an internet first for us, after all.

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  7. Hey Lizbeth's Mom! What up, dawg?? Man, how do you live with such a cranky-ass daughter? Apparently she needs to be reminded that you carted her around for 9 months, and then had to GIVE BIRTH to her. She should be a little more grateful, don't you think??

    Anyway, not much going on here. Same-old, know what I mean?

    Hey, you know how you can score some major points at home?? Go get a replacement crab for the crabitat. You will be a HERO. The kids will be thrilled.

    Anywho, gotta run. Stop by my blog later...leave a comment this time. Any old comment will do.

    Peace out, G-Ma!!

    (Lizbeth, I can FEEL you glaring at me right this moment...)

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  8. I love that your crabitat ha holiday flair! Maybe if your mom started her own blog this little issue would be solved! We can all follow and show her an abundance of comment love...or general standoffish stalkery-ness (um, yeah, that's not a word).

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  9. OMG, there is so much going on here I don't know where to start.

    First off, I heart Flannery.

    Second off, not only can my neighbors not drive, they can't park, either. And lately they have taken to hanging around outside at midnight conversing at the top of their lungs. So help me jeebus if they ever get a dog, I will stab them.

    Third off, joggers? You already know how feel about that whole subject.

    Fourth off, I think you should rename your crabitat to "crapitat." It seems more appropriate because I'm sure those crabs poop all over the place in there. As if they aren't vile enough with their "molting" and shit.

    Fifth off, thank goddess Blogger got its head out of its ass and fixed its commenting glitch because I would never have been able to leave a fascinating and worthwhile comment such as this from my phone.

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  10. Is your mom posing as someone named "Jim"? Because he seemed to start commenting on all our regular stopping points at the same time you out'ed her...

    The whole crab thing? You have way more control over your gag reflex than I do to get the replacement but I guess you had to for Lizzy. And what the heck woman? You should know better than to find one shell that had the aperture the wrong way! I can just see the same meltdown happening at my house. (Love the purple and orange color scheme - all Dora and Diego colors, right?)

    Hi Lizbeth's Mama (aka Jim)! Please come stalk my blog! I need some higher stats... ;)

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  11. @ Karen - don't try to pass off Jim as Lizbeth's mom. We all know he's the male Karen. You're stuck with him.

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  12. If you want the full effect of the electric box don't forget to wet the stick first. And make sure someone is taking pictures.

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  13. @Jim--I know but I just don't get jogging in the street when the sidewalk is inches away!!! In this neighborhood some of the mom's driving actually AIM for the joggers in the road for sport. FOR SPORT. I can neither confirm or deny if I am one of those mom's.....

    @Jim--she does not have my sense of wit and sarcastic humor. There is no possible way it's her. Sorry dude, it's me.

    @Mom2LittleMiss--and you are so sweet and kind on your blog and yet come up with the BEST ways to off the crabs. I love it. LOVE IT.

    @Margaret--I know, about the joggers. And usually its like a gaggle of them and they won't move the eff over!!! I don't get it!!!

    @Rebecca--OMG, I'm cracking up over here. And they wonder, WONDER, why I come close to plowing them over. Its called natural selection.

    @Christy--yes you do. So does Flannery and Spectrumummy. She LOVES you guys.

    @Flannery--are you trying to piss me off??? Really?!? She's already found you. She LOVES you. You can have her. Maybe that's it. She can be your mom and you can have a built in stalker. It'd be great. You'd love it. Seriously, I love ya like a sister and well, maybe that's it! You love me like a sister too and you know how siblings fight. Ohhh, its all settled then you can have her!!! I won't be jealous if she loves you more.

    @Andrea--I know. That's an idea. Although I think we should all stalk and not leave comments, that's her MO.

    @Grace--I've missed you!!! Muwaahh!!!

    @Karen--OMG, maybe that's it!!! Jim is really my mom. It's plausible. I can see it.

    @Grace and everyone else--WHAT'S WITH JIM BEING THE MALE KAREN??? Where did I miss that?!? I'm so confused. It's like I'm late for the party or something!!!

    @Mike--Ohhh, you're good. And to remember the camera? That's just a bonus.

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  14. Lizbeth, am I a moron? I have no idea how to find out who visited me. I can see who used Internet Explorer, or Google Chrome, but wtf am I missing?

    Anyhoo, HORRIFYING--the story of the crabs was HORRIFYING. My god, I can't think of a more disgusting pet aside from a fat spider. I most certainly will NOT google them to see how they drop their horror parts around their little horror habitats. No, no, and no.

    I'm actually glad the school is close enough that I almost never have to drive. People are total retards in the morning in their cars.

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  15. I love, love, love this post! Not only can I relate but then I started thinking of more things that drive me crazy. Neighbors who kill themselves trying to earn the "Yard of the Month" sign like it's all that and a bag of chips. Cyclists who travel in packs taking up a whole car lane but then don't feel they have to obey traffic laws. I could keep going.... but I won't.

    Crabs - YUCK!

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  16. @Lizbeth: YOU HAVE CRABS! BWAHAHAHA!!

    Actually the smell of crabs make me gag. Good luck with that. You are one hell of a woman, in my opinion. Unless your mom is Jim. If that's the case, you may or may not be a woman. I am starting to get really confused...

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  17. Your mom can stalk me, I don't mind.

    My cats would completely annihilate the crabs. Do you want me to bring them over?

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  18. You know I've been complaining that I don't have a stalker yet. But what I really need is for her to leave nasty comments about what I write, so I have a reason to write long rants about inconsiderate stalker comments.

    Kelly mentioned the smell of crabs. I'm wondering what they smell like, because I've only ever eaten crab legs...it never occurred to me that a crab could be a pet. Do they smell as bad as dirty fish water, because I'm about to flush my kids fish, the foul, vile little creature that it is.

    I heart you too, Crab Lady!!

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  19. @karensometingorother--my neighbor has a geko and it's equally horrifying. I'll send you a private one to tell you how...

    @AlongCametheBird--I KNOW! I'm a road biker but I actually stop at the stop signs and we ride 2 by 2. Anything more than that is illegal and dangerous!!!

    @Kelly--Hahaha!! Yeah, they stink if you don't change the sand out. They are disgusting. And Lizzy just started up with I want a dog. Totally has forgotten the damn crabs and now wants a dog. No effing way.

    @NJAMB!--yes please!!! I'll keep the top off the crabitat and let the cats go nuts!

    @Flannery--see, that's the thing--she doesn't leave comments. Maybe you could rail against people who stalk and DON'T comment???
    And they stink after they molt and if you don't change the sand. I change that shit out once a week.

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  20. Oh deary me, somebody had a bad day, huh?! Glad you got it off your chest and made me laugh at the same time :-)
    I get the lining up and the meltdown due to imperfection - we had similar experience with toy plastic miniature rabbits (nope, no idea why either) tonight. On the sofa - would have been a whole lot easier to manage on the floor, but oh no, that wasn't acceptable. Tsk.
    Hi to mummy by the way x

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  21. Oh and YES re the electricity sign! If you do go do it, will you post us a picture??!

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  22. I have the same response to irate drivers: I slow right down, slower than the speed limit, and watch them get even more irate, then I wave as they go by.

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  23. I freaking love reading your posts!

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  24. OK, I'm late checking back on this, but I can't stop laughing at all these comments. You people are hilarious.

    Lizbeth, the "male Karen" thing started with a comment Brian left on Karen's blog- something about Jim leaving as many comments everywhere as Karen does.

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  25. Wait, what?!? I thought I left the most comments!?! Crap. Now I gotta hustle. Damn this vacation.

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  26. I hate people who bike on main roads. We have a BIKE TRAIL here, and people still ride, halfway in the middle of the road, in their skin tight outfits (as though they are professional bikers? I mean, get over yourself), just waiting for me to run them over. Seriously, it pisses me off. People running just piss me off b/c I can't even run to the mailbox without having 911 on speed dial. We have dealt with mean nurses, too. We left a ped practice b/c of one. Awesome.

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Comments make me all squishy but remember to be nice. If you're not nice then what you said goes *poof.* There's your warning.