mrtl

In Serious Need of a Translator

Today our Realtor® was telling us about an excellent restaurant she recommended for lunch tomorrow when we head to Charleston to pick up Odys the Pie Van. She gushed about the pan-fried flounder, served on a plate without its head (which I'll note that I'll probably get -- reminds me of fishing while camping as a kid), and how delicious the shrimp and grits dish is. Then, she said, "And you won't believe it! They have bull penis there, too!"

ACK!

Ok, so she was actually saying, "Boiled peanuts." Mister mrtl, former linguist extraordinaire, understood her immediately, but I registered shock and mortification at the comment. Either way, bull penis is a delicacy in some parts of the world, so I'm not going to feel too bad about misunderstanding her.

Why Cointreau Sucks

How, daresay, could it be? Such a wonderfully versatile liquor suck? Indeed, it is so, when a $42 bottle of alcohol -- despite having its cap on tightly -- leaks so easily when tipped, seeping through a blanket, onto mister mrtl's uniform and envelope of work files, CD cases, and two boxes filled with miscellaneous crap that we couldn't live without for the next month.

Worse? Wasted Cointreau. So many margaritas and cosmos down the proverbial drain, and the lingering smell of orange as a lasting reminder of what is gone.

Please join me now in a moment of silence, then go out on this Cinco de Mayo and have a drink in his honour.*

*Canadian spelling used intentionally. When in Vancouver...

Dr. Phil, He Mocks Me

Catching up on Thursday's episode about obese children, Dr. Phil talks of a mother whose "problem" is that her obese child refuses to eat anything but orange chicken. Dr. Phil tells the mother to stop giving the child orange chicken. Bastard! He should have told her to send it to me.

::tangential tangent::
The "mrtl tangent" has really gone out of control. As little as I blog these days, I still see it being used in other blogs. It's taken on a life of its own. The nods are flattering, but they make me a wee self-conscious about my home page -- am I tangential enough? -- and moreso about the fact that my claim to fame in blogland is in being so scattered.

::tangent of self-awareness::
My old friend's mother used to call me "dipstick." It never bothered me until just this moment, because I never saw any truth in it. I was silly, sure, but not stupid.
::end tangent of self-awareness::

::end tangential tangent::

I know that my own relationship with food has got to change. I can't get my head around the words to describe my thoughts here. ... For as long as I remember, my relationship with food has been centered around finding happiness, eating emotionally. Most of my childhood (and not so childhood) memories are very focused on food. However, I'm finding a higher level of psychological satisfaction when I eat nutritiously and find myself more alert, energetic, and motivated.

There have been several examples over the last few days in which I've caught recent errors in judgment, lapses in memory, and losses of common sense. Along with such feats of mental prowess I have also managed to become a bit of a Wonder Woman (not to be confused with Wonder Yoshi). I credit these realizations with my newfound "Popeye Smoothies" (as AM calls them). Like today? Today the bugs and I went on a playdate to make gingerbread houses. We left after breakfast and didn't get home till early afternoon, having to make a stop at the grocery store. Still, today I managed to make a monster batch of smoothies (one generous helping for me and 18 1 1/2-cup servings in the freezer for future drug fixes), carrot and yellow squash purees (yes), clean up the public areas downstairs, and entertain guests (including cooking dinner). I also finally figured out why I was having so much trouble starting my recent knitting project and got a half bit (hee - will have to explain this joke later since the recipient may read this and the surprise would be lost) done. There's hope now that I'll actually be able to finish them before heading back to Maryland.

Even still, old mrtl-who-wants-food-to-please-her isn't out of the picture. The smoothies, made later in the day, HAD to be tested. Several tests, a large glass, and eight hours later, I'm still awake. I did say the other day that I shouldn't be drinking them so close to bedtime. I didn't learn. Dipstick. If I make this mistake again, I shall have to try exercising to see if that helps me settle more quickly. I've always had such a hard time getting off my ass once the kids are in bed, so maybe a boost would be a good thing to encourage a round on the treadmill.

What ho? A yawn? A yawn! To all a good night.

Animal Humor Gone Bad

First there was this, on a piece of paper taped under the register in a gas station near Wasilla.

This is worse than meeting Parsley, Sage, Rosemary and Thyme, the four goats our old friends in England had and planned to eat.

Then, today in the commissary parking lot, was this. What is this? A democrat? Surely not a gay homosexual, considering the vehicle also had a USAF sticker on it in this Don't Ask, Don't Tell world. I'm still clueless.

I wasn't the only person in the lot pulling out my cellphone to capture this. Mr. Ass Lover is probably going to have some complaints logged against him for displaying this sticker.

Mr. Ass Lover. Has me humming Shabba Ranks.

Mr. Ass Lover. Shabba!

if you're offended, i'll blame captain morgan

dear bryan,

i realize it's "the biggest loser" norm to go topless on the scale, but dude, your man boobs had me thinking they were going all national geographic on us when you stepped up there. i look forward to your continued weight loss and the shrinkage that will result.

~mrtl

Fisher Price Boycott

Yeah, that's right, Fisher Price. I'm pissed and am so OVER you. I am sick -- and tired! (think Bill Cosby) -- of your overzealous packaging practices. NO MORE!

Take your L'il Treasure Hunt set, for example. It's worth $5.00, but the damned thing has no fewer than four horrendously twisted wires holding it into the packaging -- make that into the inner plastic packaging as well as the inner cardboard packaging. GAH! The Pirate Ship was much worse. Both pirates were wired in from the front AND the back. And of course there were twisties impossibly twisted into the bottom of the ship (how the hell did you get it in there, anyway??). My child had quite the meltdown waiting for me to get the thing unwrapped for her. Did I mention she started saying, "MINE!" this week? Yeah. With the yeti scream. "EEEEEEEEEEE!!!! MIIIIIINE!!!!!"

Seriously, I understand you're concerned that people are going to try to steal merchandise, worse yet individual little people or animals from the sets, but get real already! This is fucking ridiculous. Really, if I wanted to steal the Treasure Hunt, the packaging is small enough to be hidden. That's right, I wouldn't have to bother unwrapping Roberto and His Loader until I got home. uh oh, Does that mean you're going to set a minumum packaging size for all of your products?

::tangent about Roberto::
ah HELL no. This shit ain't right. Making a little social commentary about hispanics and cheap road crew labor? Oh, and look, the Asian girl, Sonya Lee runs the pet groomer. You think people aren't going to notice that little white boy DREW gets to fly the rescue chopper? And the little white girls, Sarah Lynn and Elena get to go camping and picnics. That's going to get a double: WTFreakin'F?
::end tangent about Roberto::

Yeah, Fisher Price, I hope you notice all the linking from mrtland to your site and check it out. I hope you read this and learn that your twisties -- as well as your racist depictions -- have driven away a customer.

That is all.

I don't know what to say

My thoughts are with the Virginia Tech community.

To the Stupid Yappy Dog Next Door

Little obnoxious yappy dog next door
Barking barking barking
Yippity yap woorf woorf woorf
Shut the fuck up!

The fence between us is next to the room
Where my husband surely lies awake in bed
He worked all night last night
You're going to make him grumpy
Shut the fuck up!

I am trying to get some work done today
It's hard enough with the TV on
And distracting fun things to check out online
Without your woorfing
Shut.the.fuck.up!

I'm about to call the city
And suggest they dump the excess snow
On you
SHUT!THE!FUCK!UP!

To the Neighbor that Blows

First off, I think it was a very nice gesture for you to come over and snowblow our front path, making it wider. Mister mrtl wasn't so appreciative since he had just finished shoveling the walk... he worked hard on it. Why wasn't that good enough?

He also didn't appreciate that you lifted the two newspapers he had thrown on the front porch to dry out.

WTF?

----

Update: It was the neighbor, the cop, thinking we were out of town. He returned the papers to mister mrtl when he saw him outside, and mister mrtl thanked him for the blow job.

Rz is sleeping with Willie. I know it!

After gaining back a few pounds -- which really should be no surprise since I'm severely lacking in follow-through, -- I'm attempting to get back on the wagon.

::tangent for my definition of "attempt"::

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Sorry. I digress.

noun - a momentary consideration to disengage when reaching for another piece of fudge / ice cream / breaded and fried lard; a passing fancy

::end tangent for my definition of "attempt"::

If only I could stop procrastinating, justifying daily why I'm not going to the gym today, or why I'm eating shit today...

Mister mrtl and I are going to Hawaii in February. Some major magic will need to happen between now and then for me to get not only in those damned Lucky jeans, but in a bathing suit as well. It will have to be magic, since I can't seem to adjust myself. Where's my will power? Willie? Are you there? Where's Willie?

But why blame myself when I can redirect the focus to others? Like when mister mrtl presents a honking-sized Cadbury Fruit and Nut bar at the store, as if I need that. And what do I get in the mail today? Not one, but TWO packages of Reese's cups, one of the miniatures and one of the "fun" size. Merry Christmas from Rz. In a further act of premeditated torture, she required that I sign for the delivery, ensuring that I received the evil.

I'm torn. Note this is categorized in both "Problems with Civilization" and "Snippy Snaps." I love me some Reese's cups, which is exactly why I'm not opening them. To open them, to try to pretend that I can use any sort of moderation and not choke them down over a day (or maybe two), would just prove me a ::PROFANITY ALERT!! Deadwood reference follows:: loopy cunt ::end PROFANITY ALERT!!::.