Hurricane Ike

My first real hurricane in Houston and I am ready to throw in the towel. I'd move, but really, my friends in Ohio lost power due to Ike, so it's not like I can really escape it, ya know?

The storm was supposed to start blasting downtown around 5 or 6PM on Friday and last through the night and the next day. Tommy and I got the bright idea to go ahead and do our 15 mile run on Friday morning so we would feel okay with drinking ourselves into oblivion that evening. We ran, walked the dog a mile or two, got some doughnuts, tried to nap, packed up the house and headed to Francis' for the Hurricane Party of the century.

The party at Frank's was a blast. We ate, we drank (some would say too much) and played Rock Band. Luckily, we had the right minds to calibrate the system before we got too wasted...it was magnificent. Francis has a great view of downtown from his third floor and the guys (I was totally already passed out - I didn't even brush my teeth!) watched as the power went out downtown. The storm raged through the night...but it was wierd, you couldn't really hear it downstairs. Up on the second floor though, it was really scary.

We could see that Frank's neighbors tree had crushed their garage, and narrowly missed the house. The wind was loud, the rain was sideways and we had no power. I fell down the stairs not once, but twice. The guys worked hard to fix the leaks in Franks house and we started up the generator to keep food cool.

Once the storm died down, Tommy and drove the .25 miles to our house to survey the damage. There was a lot of impassable roads, but we made it there in one piece. It turns out that our street drains pretty well...no standing water at all. Lots of tree limbs, but no water.

Our house had no damage - the yard was pretty messed up - but no damage to the house at all. Thank goodness. Our poor neighbors, who were robbed a few weeks prior, lost their roof, so it rained in their living room for most of the storm. Pretty terrible. Giant trees blocked roadways, the water was ridiculously high in the bayous and there was a lot of really bad structural damage.

We stopped at Christian's Tailgate (a local bar in Midtown) for a drink...there was no power or water, so it was a cash bar and you needed a flash light to find the bathroom and once you finally found it, you regretted it. Lack of running water makes flushing a challenge. But once again, the party was fun. It's amazing how people can come together in times of adversity. The line for the bar was very controlled, someone pulled their car up close and turned on some music and someone brought in a BBQ pit to make food. All in all, it was good time.

Tommy and I finally decided that we would drive to Dallas to escape the blistering heat at our un-airconditioned house, so we packed up the essentials and got on the road. We made it to Dallas by midnight, where my parents let us shower and fall into bed. We were exhausted and filthy.

We spent the weekend relaxing, but had to come back on Monday for Tommy to work. The town was still in disarray and we were still without power. Luckily, we have some of the most amazing friends in the world who were willing to put us (and our giant mutt) up for a few nights - THANK YOU Thomas and Janelle. We were without power for 11 days and it was hard. Those 11 days taught me how to drink like a fish and never get hungover. How it was possible is totally beyond me. I drank more in those 11 days than I did my entire freshman year combined. I now understand (and respect) why homeless people are always wasted. You HAVE to be drunk to be okay with being homeless.

Anyways, all in all, it was hard and I don't want to do it again, but I have some great memories from the days spent at Francis' in dungeon, on the air mattress in Thomas's loft and on the couch at Janelle's house...nevermind the many afternoons spent at West Alabama Ice House. I know that living in Houston I will probably have to deal with it again, but next time I will have a house with windows that I can open, a generator and a window unit. I'll be set.

This picture is a house down the street from us. It looks very cute from the front, but you can't tell that it's been totally cut in half.



This picture was taken on Nov. 15, almost 2 months after the hurricane. The tree is STILL stuck in the house.



Same house, from the other end of the tree. Those are the roots sticking out of the ground. The tree was so big it actually hit the house next door as well, but didn't do quite as much damage.



This is of Chase Tower downtown. The roads were closed off for at least week because of all the glass surrounding the downtown buildings.



This is what our neighborhood looked like a few days after the storm. The rain had drained away, but so many roads were blocked with downed trees and power lines...it took FOREVER to get anywhere.



This is of Seaside Beach in Galveston looking out at the Causeway. As you probably guessed, this area is usually not completed submerged.



And now for the picture that everyone has seen, but you can't have a Hurricane Ike blog and not mention... I just want to say that I need to get that guy to build my next house.

Torture.

The things I do to torture my pet.

This is him in his Halloween costume. Because he is so large, I just have to buy the costumes I can find in XL. Sooo, this year he was forced to go as Pocahontas. I think he likes it.



This is him in the hooded sweatshirt we got him from Old Navy. He isn't really a fan of the hood portion of the event.





This one is just funny because his head looks so giant.

Moving Day!!

On Tuesday, November 4, 2008, I officially became a homeowner.

Tommy and I purchased our first home together and man, it was a great feeling walking into that brand-new, GORGEOUS house with our bottle of champagne, knowing that it was all ours.

That is, it was great until the phone installation guy backed over a water main and shut off water to our whole block within 15 minutes of homeownership. I mean, we didn't even have a chance to toast to our new house yet!! Luckily, after a trip to Lowe's down the street, the phone guy was able to repair the water line and turn the water back on. But seriously? We had only owned the home for half an hour.

THEN...yes, there's more. It's me. Of course there is more.

Tommy went to the old house to help the movers load the truck while I stayed at home to unpack the kitchen stuff we brought over earlier. The movers showed up an hour and a half late (at 4PM instead of 2:30) and it took them FOREVER to load the truck. When they finally had everything in the truck and they were about to head to the new house, the truck broke down. Yup, that's right. The truck broke down, in the driveway of my old house, with all my belongings in it at 6:30PM. They were able to get it started again, but it broke down several more times in the 4 mile journey from old to new house. It took them an hour to drive 4 miles. They finally finished unpacking around 8:30 and we were able to unpack a little before passing out.

All in all the house is great and we are so thankful that everything has worked out thus far.

Here is a picture of Don in all my packing materials. He is clearly not enjoying this. I think the crinkling of the paper was too loud for him. (In the background you can see the floor of the living room...oooh, ahhh)

Moving.

Tommy and I are attempting to buy a house. It would appear that if you are a dipshit, buying a house is easy (I'm basing this entirely on the number of foreclosures around the nation) and if you are trying to be smart, they pretty much try to stick things up your a$$ every chance they get. So, buying a house is hard and my ass hurts.

We are supposed to close tomorrow, but then again, we were supposed to close last week too, so, I'm not counting on much these days. We will see. My fingers are crossed and they have been for a looooong time.

I am really excited about moving into a house that isn't a piece of crap since that's all I've ever lived in my entire adult life. I have lived in 11 different places in the last 9 years...6 of those places have been in the last 4 years. That's just wrong.

1. August 1999-December 1999
Freshman Year
I shared a dorm room in Haas Hall with Emily. As it turns out, this was also the lesbian basketball player dorm. We were two of the few who didn't play sports and didn't prefer women. This dorm also had a very strange smell.

2. January 2000-May 2000
Freshman Year
I shared a VERY small dorm with this crazy girl named Kim. She would disappear for weeks and steal my clothes and my credit cards. She was awesome. I think she also used to hide under her bed so I wouldn't know she was there. Seriously. Creepy.

3. May 2000-August 2000
Freshman Summer
Moved back home with my parents for the summer because they wanted to torture me. Apparently I was bad enough that they requested that I never move back home. My plan was genius.


4. August 2000-August 2001
Sophomore Year
My first apartment was with Sara, Julienne and Kristin. Sara and Kristin shared a room and I had the cool converted living room so I had my own front door. I shared a bathroom with Julienne who also turned out to be a crazy girl. This place was a dump - http://www.poloclubapartments.net You know a place is good when they only pictures they show is the front office...and even that is scary. I once saw a man jerking off at the swimming pool. I'm telling you, this place was disgusting. BUT, it was my first apartment. I loved it.

5. August 2001-August 2002
Junior Year
Sara and I moved to a three bedroom apartment with her friend Jessica. This was the nicest place I have ever lived, other than the corporate apartment Dow gave me when I interned. This living situation just wasn't good for reasons that I can no longer remember, but it was drama at the time.

6. August 2002-August 2004
Senior and Second Senior Years
Due to the Drama at the previous apartment, I decided to go it alone and get my own place. This place was probably the worst of all the places and I am actually quite embarressed that I spent so long in a 400sq ft one room apartment. But since I was no longer splitting rents, I had to make ends meet. The Doux Chene...http://www.dcapts.com/ Once again, you KNOW it's good when they don't actually show any pictures. I painted a wall hot pink once and was too lazy to repaint...seriosly. Surprisingly though, I was very happy here and only have good memories...despite the blue carpet and hot pink wall. The place was so small I could open the fridge from my bed. There are some very specific reasons why I gained so much wieght in college...

During my time at the Doux Chene, I relocated to Houston for an internship, but since that apartment was furnished and I didn't have to lift a couch, I don't consider it a real move. I left all my stuff at the Blue Douche for the summer and came home 3 months later.

7. May 2004-November 2004
1st Few Months Out of College
I relocated to Houston after graudation and found a lovely little one bedroom that me and my giant mutt quickly outgrew. After a few months I realized that when the SPCA said he would be 35 pounds, they really meant 70 pounds, and I was going to need a bigger place. I don't know why I am constantly drawn to ugly and gross apartments, but once again, the website doesn't actually show any pictures of the buildings. http://www.tanglewoodcourt.com/

8. November 2004-August 2005
I was able to upgrade to a 2 bedroom apartment at the same complex where the mutt and I could flourish. This apartment was ghetto, but bigger, so therefore slightly less ghetto?

9. August 2005-August 2006
Why I always insisted on moving in the hottest month of the year, I have no idea. But I was able to find a cute little one bedroom house to rent right next to Memorial Park. It was perfect for Don and I. We were able to run to the park and play and he had a yard and it was magical. That is, it was magical until my landlord broke in one day and rearranged my furniture and opened all my windows. That was pretty awesome. So, I moved out.

10. August 2006-December 2006
Natalie and I moved into a giant house together. This seemed like a great idea, but what we didn't realize was that this landlord was even creepier than my previous landlord and only rented the place to us because we were young girls. He didn't even do a credit check. Bizarre. Around December, I pretty much moved out and moved in with Tommy.

11. December 2006-August 2008
I moved into my man friends VERY small garage apartment in the Heights...which, surprisingly is one of the best living situations I have ever had. Up until our landlord got this AWFUL monster Yorkie dog. I have never wanted to kick a puppy so much in my entire life. We lived almost 2 blissful years there before we got antsy. Sharing 700 sq ft with another person and a giant dog isn't easy. Our bathroom was so small that I could sit on the toilet, rest my head on the sink and wash my feet in the tub at the same time. We didn't have heat at all and only had central AC. It didn't have much, but we loved it. We had a storage shed for all our junk and we made weekly trips there to trade out things. The good news was that we could clean the place from top to bottom in under 2 hours. Despite having been robbed while we were sleeping, we loved the neighborhood, the people, the location, pretty much everything. This is where we want to live forever. Siiiiiiiigh.

12. August 2008-November 2008
The garage apartment just got too small and we decided we wanted to upgrade our renting capabilities so we could save for a couple more years before buying our dream house. Sooo, we found a great little bungalow in Montrose, which is a little seedier, but in an excellent location. Within one week of living there, our neighbors got robbed. Awesome. At least it wasn't us. This house has pretty much been a disaster from the beginning to the end. The AC was broken when we moved in and out of the first 53 days we lived there, we only had AC for 24 of those days. The house is cursed and I am pretty sure someone died a brutal death there and is trying to haunt us to get us to leave. No prob bob. We broke our lease and are moving out by the 12th.

Which brings us to home #13. Lucky #13. We are supposed to close on a house tomorrow morning and move tomorrow afternoon. This will be the 13th time I have packed all my belongings and moved them in 9 years. That averages out to me moving every 251 days or approx every 8 months. This is a cost of about $500 per move, excluding deposits...and a total of $6000.

The worst part though is when I have to reset a password (or something) and they want me to confirm where I lived in May of 2002 and I have no freaking clue.

Wish us luck tomorrow. It's gonna be a doozy.

My Husband Wears ALL the Pants in the Family

A typical day at our house begins when the alarm goes off at 4:30AM and we wake up in a half stupor and do some whining. The whining doesn’t usually stop until we get to the park. (And even then I am known to lay down on my towel in the grass and mope for a few minutes). The workout begins at 5:15AM and is HARD. We then shower in the locker rooms at the park and head to respective workplaces.

Anyway, this is just the backstory, and some slight justification as to why my husband is a crossdresser.

On Monday morning, it was the typical routine. Wake up, moan, dress in a stupor, go to the park, workout, and then shower. We usually end up getting dressed in about the same amount of time (yeah, I’m awesomely quick…he is so lucky) so we can usually walk to our cars together or at least grab a kiss before the day officially begins.

On this particular day, I was walking to my car when I heard Tommy behind me. I turned and saw him. I sensed something was wrong with his pants…maybe they were too long? Too big? I couldn’t quite figure it out. But I opted not to say anything. He asked what was wrong.
I said, “Nothing – you look great!”
And he said, “It’s the pants isn’t it?”
I responded with, “Well, something looks a little off about them…”
He comes back with, “Well, they’re yours.”

HAHAHAHAHA.

Are you freaking kidding me?

Sure enough though, upon closer inspection, he was in fact wearing my favorite black slacks from Express…and they looked better on him than they do on me. At this point, his biggest complaint was that the pockets weren’t big enough for all his crap. Duh. This is why we need giant purses. Idiot. The flare leg was quite flattering on him, albeit slightly emasculating.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.

He said he showered and was pulling up the pants when he tried to zip them up, and lo and behold the zipper was on the wrong side. At this point, he realized that he had accidentally grabbed my pants from the closet, but didn’t want to put back on his dirty workout clothes, and hey, my pants fit, so why not wear them? He also said he felt like a crossdresser. I told him that was because he WAS a crossdresser.

HAHAHAHAHAAHHAAHAHHAHA.

When I get back from lunch, I find an email from Tommy in my inbox:

“Tommy to me
show details Sep 8 (2 days ago) Reply

It's weird having the zipper and all backwards. And hard to get the equipment out since the zipper doesn't go down all that far. Haha. It's hard to wear womens pants.

You know what they say about walking a mile in someone else's shoes? Do the pants count? If so, I think I will be able to learn more about you after today...”

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.

I forward this to Harold, who proceeds to forward it to most everyone Tommy knows, and before long, people Tommy doesn’t even know are emailing him asking about the situation. His co-worker took a picture, which unfortunately, doesn’t really do the situation justice, so I’ve attached one I took when he got home.




To my loving husband: You’ve GOT to stop stealing stuff from my closet. And you’re taking the dry cleaning in this week. I’m afraid of it.

Kevin and Jorja's Wedding

I'm behind on my blogging. As usual.

My friend Kevin married a wonderful woman named Jorja (her parents REALLY wanted points on Scrabble) in College Station a couple of months ago. The wedding was a nice Catholic mass, with all the Catholic traditions (I say ALL, but let's be honest, I have no idea how many Catholic traditions there are, so, let's just say there were MANY Catholic traditions). The ceremony was beautiful, Jorja looked beautiful, the church was beautiful and frankly, my dress was pretty nice as well.

After the ceremony, we all headed down to the Texas Hall of Fame for a bootscootin' reception! Tommy and I pitstopped at the gas station to get a giant Monster energy drink, I changed my shoes to match the bride and we joined the crew. Kevin's cake look remarkably like the getaway vehicle, although, I doubt there was any intent to make them look similar. We danced, we cried, the groomsmen all wore one glove (which totally freaked me out), we drank many beers, we took inappropriate pictures and we laughed. All in all, a great time was had. And here is a picture of Jorja's cake, so it doesn't feel left out... And somehow, Thomas got ahold of Jorja's veil and started making eyes at my man friend. It would not appear that he was bothered by these advances.

For grand exit of the newlyweds, we all walked outside into the BLAZING SUN. It was very remniscient of Varsity Blues when they walk out of the strip club...you know what scene I'm talking about? We felt like we had been partying all night, so therefore, it should be dark. But no, it was only 6pm, and the sun will still high in the sky.

And then, while birdseed SEEMS romantic and lovely, you end up with pictures like this.

The crew then headed out to The Dixie Chicken for more eating, dominoes, pool and inappropriate behavoir...mostly on the part of me. I just love rubbing my bottom on things. AND I lost my glasses. Ugh.

All in all, an excellent trip to College Station, an excellent wedding of two fabulous people and I got an excellent pair of new glasses out of the deal.


Ole!

Facebook is life.

I'm addicted to Facebook (and Myspace for that matter), but I am not one of those people who uploads my pictures from the night before right after I wake up or plays games or "pokes" people. I am one of those people who uses it mostly for stalking purposes. The automatic tracker has made my stalking so easy and carefree. I know where all my friends are, all the time.

On Sunday, I was catching up on a weekend of stalking - so much can happen in two days - when I came up the fact that my friend, we will call him Bino, was now married. Despite the fact that I haven't seen him in at least a year, I am still one of his Top Friends on Myspace and I stalk often, so I know what is going on with him...typically. The fact that he was married was highly suspect - even though he goes to Vegas regularly and he can party harder than most. However, I saw it on Facebook and immediately knew it was gospel.

I texted Frank, wanting to know if he had heard the news. He had and was as confused as me. He said he would look into it. From what what Frank told me, Bino WAS married and he had gotten married in Vegas and he was happy. Go team.

I knew Facebook wouldn't lie.

Then I forwarded my newfound knowledge to Kate and Janelle who expressed disbelief - their faith in Facebook is not as big as a msutard seed. Kate had spent the evening with Bino the night before and he hadn't mentioned anything...and the first crack in my belief system was born.

She said she would get to the bottom of it. After a days worth of emailing, texting and checking and re-checking Facebook status, it was determined that he was married. And he was happy.

So, go Bino. We are happy for you. Next time though, send an email at least. I don't have time to convince people that Facebook is the final word anymore.

Typical

It was a typical week in our household, but lucky for me (and unlucky for Tommy), most of the bad crap happened to him. Regardless, it was an expensive week.

On Monday, Tommy hit a giant piece of wood on the highway - it flattened one of his tires. Let's remember that his car is not quite yet 2 months old.

On Tuesday, I went and got new glasses because I got drunk on Saturday and lost mine. Ooops.

On Thursday, Tommy got a speeding ticket on his way to work. This is especially ridiculous since the man drives like a grandpa and is highly addicted to his cruise control.

All in all, it was typical of us. We try to save money, and we end up dropping a grand in one week...and we have nothing to show for it. Awesome.

We did round out Thursday night with a fabulous evening at Sherlocks for Aggie Happy Hour. And we are moving into our new house next Monday...ouch. Here are some pics of the new place. We are moving into Gay Central, which is also known as Montrose. And our neighbors have a pool according to GoogleEarth...looks like I'll be trying to befriend them ASAP.


The front of the house


The living/dining room.

One of the major concerns was how will set up the living room to be the most conducive to Rock Band...?? The big questions in life always throw me too.

I CAN'T WAIT!!

I'm going gray.

Not really. However, I did have the opportunity to see what it would be like yesterday morning.

I went to the gym before work, like I always do, and took my shower and got dressed afterwards. As I was finishing up my hair, I realized I had forgotten hairspray for my (oh so lovely) bangs. The YMCA has a little bucket of items that you might forget, so I grabbed an aerosol can and sprayed my bangs down. About midway through spraying, I realized that it smelled "fresh". Well, it smelled fresh because it was in fact aerosol deodorant...not hairspray. Awesome. The deodorant turned my entire head gray. It wasn't pretty. Apparently, I'm not going to age well.

Then of course, I had to rewash my hair in the sink. I heart getting dressed at the gym.

Ode to my old phone

I just got a new phone. My old phone totally sucked so this is a great improvement. HOWEVER, there is one feature that my old phone had that my new one is lacking and it saddens me greatly.

I se predictive text while texting (duh.). I have gotten pretty good at it and I feel that I can safely text while driving at most speeds. This isn't relevant, I just wanted to brag.

My old phones predictive text was amazing though. When I type the word "comes" into my phone for texting, the predictive texter would guess that I was trying to type "boner". Every single time. You can't buy that can't of humor. You have no idea how many texts I sent to my mother about boners.

You know there are a bunch of Asians out there who design phones and are just cracking themselves up. I just wish this novel feature had been incorporated into my new model. Siiiiiigh.

Speaking of boners, have you heard that Rod Ryan show where they get the grandma's to call in and see how many times they can say "boner"? Hahahahahaha.

I miss my phone.

What's in a name?

I normally don't print full names or email addresses on here for fear that some of you might turn out to be crazy stalker people and show up outside my window one night...but this practice also protects the innocents in my stories. However, in this instance, I can't avoid it. So, I apologize in advance.

Simple Disclaimer (stolen from The Bachelor blog I sdore):
The following information you are about to read is of personal opinion. If this e-mail circulates to friends, family, enemies…that is your business. However, if you or someone in your address book happens to personally know, sort of know, know the brother/cousin of, thought you saw in the grocery store buying Spring Oreos and Spaghetti O’s or have a spin instructor that looks exactly like one of the Bachelorettes…none of this is personal and I’m sure they are all lovely people.

So, I'm sorry too.

What's in a name? I have two stories.


Story #1
At Academy the other day, Tommy and I had some issues at the customer service counter. The girl couldn't figure out how to make our 37 gift cards into one giant gift card. We fought with her forever about it. Finally, we convinced her that buying ONE gift card for $214.67 and paying for that ONE gift card with 37 gift cards was the easiest way to do this. I maintain that her lack of brain cells is due to the fact that her name was TREMENDOUS JOHNSON. Yes, folks, you heard me right. Her name was Tremendous Johnson. When I have children, I hope I go through the list of names and pick something that means Giant Wiener as well.

Story #2
I had to set up a meeting last week with a woman named Betty Heverly whom I have never met. Everytime I looked at her name, I said "Beverly Heverly"...instead of Betty. Our meeting began and the first thing she says to me is "Do not call me Beverly." I spent the next two hours calling her Beverly...over and over again. I can't figure out why I'm not CEO yet.

I think Tommy is in trouble...

Some thought my last blog was somewhat negative. Here are Ed's thoughts concerning my Negative Nancy-ness:

Edward-o to me
8:28 am (7 hours ago)

I read your blog today. You need to get laid more and maybe your anger will subside. If you are getting laid regularly then you need to have a threesome with Tommy and another girl….twice. Tommy did not put me up to this.

Ed

10 Things I Hate About You

Whistling/Singing/Humming to oneself. I just don't understand the reasoning behind this. Never once have I sung to myself in the presence of others. Don't get me wrong, I sing by myself all the time...that's the key though, I'm BY MYSELF. I don't understand people who hum while they pee, or sing in the stairwell, or whistle while they grocery shop. It's annoying. If I wanted music, I'd wear headphones. I may have to start wearing headphones just drown you out.

Conference calls on speakerphone in a cubicle farm.

Body Odor. But more specifically, men who sit next to me on planes with body odor.

Men with long gnarly fingernails (who don't do drugs and therefore have no need for gnarly long fingernails.)

Men with long gnarly fingernails...including the ones who do drugs.

Farting in a cubicle farm...we are not talking SBD's (Silent But Deadlys), we are talking full on tooting at regular intervals. Why must I be forced to contain my laughter? And why doens't anyone else think this is funny?

When the queso at a mexican food place is gross.

Valet parking at ridiculous places and at ridiculous times. More specifically, I hate paying to park and this is considered an acceptable reason for me to decline an invitation somewhere.

People with names like Tremendous Johnson. Yes, I have met a woman named Tremendous - she works at Academy on Westheimer at Voss. She was dumb as a stick. I realize these two things would appear to be unrelated, but I know that if my name was Tremendous, I probably wouldn't feel like I needed to use my brain either.

Customer Service Representatives. I dislike them all out of principle, but I really hate the ones who can't speak my language and/or who have absolutely no desire to actually fix the problem. I REALLY hate Comcast.

People who consistently can't turn off their cell phone ringers. And especially people who consistently can't turn off their cell phone ringers who have annoying rings. No, it not cool when your phone barks instead of rings. No, I do not like the theme song from Growing Pains (that's a lie, I DO like the theme song, just not every 20 minutes). You've been reminded 37 times to turn off your ringer...why are you an idiot?

People who repeat the same joke over and over again until you laugh. And before any of you judge me, I am well aware that I do this...but I hate it about myself. Ugh!The first step is recognizing that you have a problem. The second step is remembering that you don't talk about Fight Club.

Crumbly cheeses. Rain. Brussel sprouts. Small dogs. Small cars. Big bridges. Treadmill. Spiders, snakes and most other reptilia and amphibia and arachnids and such. Tequila. Retractable leashes. Cats.

These are just to name a few. I'm such an upbeat person.

Chain Lingerie?

Funny little thing that happened to my friend, who we will call Schmelrie, last night. He was on a "date" and they were walking around the multi-Starbucked area of River Oaks on West Gray... (the names have been changed to protect the filthy).

From Schmelrie:
We’re walking by river oaks theatre, and she mentioned that she’d never been in that area. I say there’s tons of shopping, not my style, because I’m a guy. She said that it’s not really her style either.

So we walk next to a lingerie place, and I point at some risqué clothing, and I say, "Is that more your style?"

Her response, “No, I preferred chains.”

Schmelrie’s response, “Chains? I didn’t know you were that type of girl.”

Her response, “No, I mean chain stores, I prefer shopping at chain stores.”

I thought she liked to wear chain lingerie.

SPIDERMAN!

http://www.ananova.com/news/story/sm_2824138.html

This would make any trip complete.

I HATE COMCAST

I hate them. If I ever meet another one of their technicians, I will shoot them.

If I had a baby, he would be a Blood.

Parents Fight Over Which Gang Toddler Should Join

Police: Mother A Crip, Father A Westside Baller
POSTED: 7:10 pm MDT April 10, 2008
UPDATED: 7:27 am MDT April 11, 2008

COMMERCE CITY, Colo. -- A couple fighting about which gang their 4-year-old toddler should join caused a public disturbance that resulted in the father's arrest, Commerce City police said Thursday.

On Saturday, Joseph Manzanares stormed into the Hollywood Video store where his girlfriend worked, threatened to kill her and knocked over several video displays and even a computer, Commerce City police Sgt. Joe Sandoval said.

After he ran out of the store, police were called and the 19-year-old was arrested at his home.

His girlfriend told police that they had been arguing about the upbringing of their son and which gang he should belong to. The teen mother, who is black, is a member of the Crips. Manzanares is Hispanic and belongs to the Westside Ballers gang, the woman said.

"They have different ideas on how the baby should be raised. Basically, she said they cannot agree on which gang the baby would 'claim,'" Sandoval said.

Manzanares was charged with disorderly conduct, harassment, and domestic violence.

Types of Runners

I'm a Stinkbomber.

http://www.active.com/running/Articles/The_10_Types_of_Runners.htm

Chuck Norris

So, I work for Dow Chemical. Our slogan is "The Human Element"...if you watch the National Geographic channel, you've seen the commercials. If you don't then you are probably cooler than all the people I work with. Anyways, our CEO writes this blog every so often and people are given the opportunity to comment. At the end of the comments today, this was what I read:

I heard Chuck Norris destroyed the "Human Element" because the only element he believes in is "The element of suprise".
Nathan | April 8, 2008 2:41 AM

Who says engineers aren't funny? (I would like to point out that this comment was made at 2:41AM. Seriously?)

Reasons I Heart My Husband

Now, this could get a little sappy, but really, I must brag for a little bit. Oh, and the reasons are included, but not limited to, the items listed here.

10. He lets me sleep on the side of the bed with the air conditioner. And he doesn't even complain (at least not much) about the fish flopping I do when I can't sleep (which is all the time).
9. He loves to sit outside all day with me...sometimes we go to the park, sometimes we go to the bar, sometimes we go to the pool...it doesn't matter. But a gorgeous day means we are outside. However, we did waste one of the most beautiful days of 2007 inside Bed, Bath and Beyond for 4 hours registering for wedding gifts...painful.
8. He bought me Rock Band and lets me play the drums all the time.
7. He is hsyterical. Probably the funniest person I know. Kangaroo Song! Kangaroo Song!
6. He looks super hot in his Six Jeans..and his Sevens. Yes, I fully support the purchase of fancy pants for men...seriously, his butt looks so good!
5. He is such a good friend - to me and to everyone he meets. This is a good thing because I am generally pretty evil...they say opposites attract?
4. He took me to the ballet for my birthday and didn't even make fun of me when I cried through the whole thing. Then at intermission, we bought too much booze, so he smuggled it into the theater in his coat pockets.
3. He has adopted my dog...his name is now Dog Blain. And he taught him how to do the Hog Tie...it's very similar to calves getting roped.
2. He loves to be a redneck. It's funny though, because a guy who wears Seven Jeans can't actually BE a redneck, but he tries...he really does. He drinks crappy beer, shoots bb-guns and fishes. For some reason, this turns me on. It baffles me too.
1. He calls me his angel...and we all know how unangelic I typically am.
0. Mostly though, I love him because when the alarm goes off at 4:30 in the morning, he cuddles me for the first 9 minutes of my day (snooze time)...and it is the best 9 minutes of every day.


Okay, enough sap. But seriously, I am the luckiest woman alive.