Posts Tagged with "humor"

Hot Toddies, Christmas Trees & Nekkid Bell Ringin’

December 6th, 2007 at 12:08 pm by Diva
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I swear to all that is Holy… I’m trying my bestest to get into the holiday spirit. It just ain’t me. But I’ll not sit here and spew a bunch of Bah Humbug and tinkle on everybody else’s happy happy ho-ho-ho.

Quite the contrary. In my efforts to pull the Grinch out of my ass, I have found that a nice alcolhic beverage can be very beneficial. My drink of choice? Ahhh, a nice cup of fresh brewed double shot o’ espresso combined neatly with a shot of Bailey’s Irish Creme. Yes, it is tasty. Mmmm, mmmm, mmmmmm.

So, one cup of cheer at a time, I have managed to begin my holiday-ing with relatively little pain and suffering.

I slung up two Christmas trees this year. One in the living room where everyone hangs out and the other in the Den Of Love downstairs.

Wanna see? I know you do… even if you don’t… here it is in all it’s blinged out glory!! This is the silver & white tree. This sucker glows by the light of the fire even with the twinkle lights not plugged up.

Let’s sing…
“Silver balls….. Silver balllsssss… it’s Christmas time in the Lair”

This is the wooden tree. Tastfully decorated thanks to JoAnn’s craft emporium. Everything on it is made of wood. We like it. Eco-safe, tree parts that will be used for years to come. Poor thing still needs something on top, but I’ve yet to find me a wooden angel or star or santa…

Up close with my fave ornaments…. The sappy but sexy LOVE BELL… When I get lucky, I run upstairs in all my nekkid glory and ring that bad boy… (Scary thought, huh?)

Now just because I have my own forest of Christmas trees doesn’t mean that this tree or this tree are safe.

I made a promise to myself that I would go steal them and leave ransom notes for each tree if either tree owner turns their respective back for more than 2 minutes.

Happy Holidays, boys and girls.

Psycho Ex, or Fixated Femme Fatale?

December 5th, 2007 at 1:10 pm by Mark
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     I’ve known some amazingly nutty women, but this news story made me realize I’m not alone.

Police say that on June 14, the woman put Visine in the 32-year-old male friend’s drink without his consent, causing him to suffer vomiting, rectal bleeding and difficulty breathing…

On July 6, police said, the woman, using a metal cane, encouraged a large pit bull to attack the man’s Chihuahua, killing it.

Police … charged her with second-degree assault and third-degree criminal mischief.

     I can’t help but wonder what the relationship was between this woman and the object of her fury, as I’ve had the same sort of thing happen by a couple of women I was never even with.

     Sometimes, however, I’ve had some pretty frightening post-relationship encounters with ex-girlfriends, too.  Those sorts of blow-ups usually result in my racking my brain trying to figure out what I did to deserve it.
     Fortunately, this video clarified the issue, and now I know exactly where I went wrong:

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Bras, Burritos, Ninjas and Hair Pullin’

December 5th, 2007 at 10:02 am by Diva
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I have decided on what one of the most annoying occurances in a woman’s life can possibly be.

I was at work and everything was coming up roses. I had an super great hair day. I even woke up early enough to slap on some war-paint. I had a box to pack up for a customer who is in a shit panic to get something done RIGHT NOW, after he had been advised a week ago that he needed to take action.

Whatever. Lack of planning on his dumb ass part, does not constitute a shit panic for me. None the less, I went ahead, as a good colleague would, and got his stuff put together for him and was putting the large part (a 50 pound instrument) into the box when I felt it…. SNAP! The underwire in my most favoritest bra gave out.

That kids, is annoying. My boob popped out of said bra into my shirt, making my the girls look all awkward and crooked. Needless to say, the bra came off and I wore my sweatshirt for the rest of the day.


I made an attempt to be stealth like a ninja this weekend. I did, really. I waited for Big T to get up and go to work, acting totally and convincingly asleep. He was out the door and I jumped up to take a shower. I hi-jacked the truck and snuck all the way to Pigeon Forge to the Music Outlet.

I cried on the sales fella’s shoulder about how I had to have the camo Morgan Monroe guitar case, of which they only had one and was already half paid for by some psycho woman.

Being the spoiled brat I am, I tried to talk him into giving me that one and ordering her another one, but to no avail. Kids, I haggled this dude for 20 minutes before his son said, “Dad, I think there might be one upstairs in the storage room.”

The waters parted and the heavens opened when I saw the boy coming back down the stairs a mere 30 minutes later carrying the last one they would ever have.

I am such a good wife that I pay attention to all the stuff Big T says. And I specifically remember him making a mental note that he was going to go back and get that case one day. Check. I made a mental note too. I was sure it would get me a free pass for a wicked roll in the hay. Woo!

Anyhoo, I get home and try to get in the house before Big T can come help me in with the stuff. But, I didn’t make it. He was out the door before I could fart and run from it.

He asked obviously annoyed that I would have enough nerve to put something back there when he had specifically told me not to. “What’s that in the back of the seats? I thought I told you not to put anything back there, baby.”

“I know you did. It’s for Natalie (my kid) and it’s lightweight. I was afraid it would blow out of the bed if I put it back there.” I protested.

He rolled his eyes and said “Unlock the door, let’s get it out and take it in the house.”

What could I do. I handed him the key. Mind you, he’s had a hard-on for this particular item for a little over a year.

He pulls the box out and looks in it. I swear, I thought he was gonna cry. The look of horror on his face that he had found one of his Christmas presents.

Oh well, his bad. He ain’t gettin it until Christmas day. I’ll wrap that bitch up and put in under the tree anyway. He better act surprised and he better still give me some major league nookie.

So much for being a ninja.


Taco Bell gets a stay of execution for now.

As promised to Ms. P, I went ahead forewent my diet in order to keep Taco Bell in business. I have had a burrito and large Diet Dew two days in a row. There is no need for anybody so sweet to die of hunger because of my vanity. What the hell was I thinkin anyway? Maybe that is why I broke bitch in like 1.3 seconds… maybe it wasn’t PMS… maybe it was lack of bean burritos with extra red sauce.

Thank you, Puddin, you saved me from myself.


What is a school zone? A school zone is a place where flashing lights, crossing guards and cops all come together with one goal in mind… to slow folks down in order to avoid mowing down of any munchkins.

I respect the school zone and all of its components. However, some asshat in an SUV, who apparently woke up a little late, doesn’t.

I drive my kids to school every single day, as she is too much of a princess to ride the damn bus. Which is fine. I too was a princess. I take into consideration that I might just run into traffic in the school zones, and allow this into my alotted time for the AM commute. Generally I take it for what it is and am a mellow driver. I don’t suffer from road rage very often… until today. Today was the day I finally snapped.

Anyway, the forementioned asshat decided that he was in a hurry and as a result his SUV was raping my poor little car he was riding so close… like right up the tailpipe raping. Not like I could go anywhere any faster with the half mile of folks trying to do the same thing I was.

I didn’t think about my daughter (16) sitting next to me when I finally got pissed off. I rolled down the window and yelled back at him “If you’re gonna ride my ass, at least pull my hair, asshole!”

Ooops. Of course, my kid busted out laughing and looking back at him. He must’ve been humiliated cuz his boy was laughing his ass off as his dad yelled at him. Good. Back off and don’t ride other people’s bumper. It’s just consideration.

12-Step Program Needed

December 4th, 2007 at 9:58 am by Diva
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I think I need a 12-step program. I have a major problem that, no matter how much effort I put into it, I can’t seem to fix.

Big T comes to my office now and then to visit. One afternoon, he popped by and asked us, “Do you have any string or twine or anything around here. I need about 2 feet of it.”

I, forever and always being the helpful & loving wife that I am, say, “Well baby, I have this left over blue ribbon from the bridesmaid bouquets if that’ll work.”

I toss him the ribbon and think nothing else of it. He says he loves me, gives me kisses and goes on his merry little way.

Fast-forward to 5:15pm, when I get home from work. I come in as usual and Big T gives me my hugs and kisses as I head upstairs to start dinner… when it caught my eye…

That ass-munch had duct-taped the ribbon to his lighter that sits on the end table. The other end of the ribbon was inserted into the slate slabs that make the top of the table. It looked like one of those pens that the bank tries to keep safe by chaining them to the teller spots.

Why would he do such a sarcastic thing?

Because I am Diva. I have a problem. I steal lighters.

Yes, my friends, I’m a kleptomaniac.

I found that I am attracted to steal lighters like a monkey will steal your wallet at the circus. It is bad.

How bad is it, you ask. When Big T asked me to empty my jacket pocket and purse, the lighter count was seven (7). Ooops.

Moral of the story is.. Until I get the proper help, if we’re out drinkin’ together, please (please, please) keep your lighter in your pocket or at least come get it back from me.

Consider this fair warning. I can not be held responsible.

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So, This is Art…

December 3rd, 2007 at 3:15 pm by Diva
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Many of you may not know, but the week after I got hitched, I bailed and went to Germany for 10 days. Fun, fun, fun don’cha know.

Anyway, I was in Hannover for a couple of days and managed (between the raindrops) to get out and do the tourist schlep. Grabbed a cab and took in Herrenhausen Gardens. Quite the impressive place actually. One could get lost up in there.

Figured I’d share with you what the German folk consider to be art, as they had an art exhibition in full gear within the garden gates whilst I was there. Enjoy.

Ok, so these are babydolls cocooned in Saran Wrap and hung in trees.
*scratches head* I still don’t quite get it, but ok. Kinda creepy in a Blair Witch kinda way.

And this is an exhibit called (surprisingly) “Split Pea Soup & Beer”

In case you’re wondering, the lil sign says no drinky the beer or do not touch or something to that effect.

This here is the Creme de la Creme. A Penis made out of a sticky bush. Nice. The exhibit was entitled “Sex.”

Imagine that. I certainly could have done with a lil nookie after looking at a seven foot tall prickly penis.

And the grande finale photo is not actually part of the art exhibit, it was just one of the few flowers left that hadn’t frozen it’s stamen off yet.

It was cold and miserable that day, but the oversized penis… dayum, it really did make the whole thing worth it.