Tag: Comedy

Comedy

Scared Shitless

I’m kind of tired today but come on in anyway. Coffee is exactly what I need right now. And a cinnamon bun.

So, how’s life treating you? Well, I hope.

Me? I’m fine and would be wonderful if I hadn’t scared the shit out of myself last night.

I was lying in bed with my eye mask on to mute the bedroom light I had kindly left on so The Viking could see what he was doing when he came to bed. As usual I was wandering around in my personal Happy Place. I love it there. It’s a big cave with a hot pool surrounded by crystals that bathe the cave in dancing light. There’s a huge fireplace that magically never burns down to bare embers and a large bed covered in the softest furs created by witchcraft and not by the slaughter of innocent animals.

I built this place to help quiet my mind. I thought this was meditating, but I recently learned that I am meditating all wrong! From what I understand, I’m supposed to imagine rolling a boulder up a hill or imagine my soul is floating above my body or try to empty my mind and think of nothing. None of these things make me particularly sleepy and probably would just piss me off, especially the last one because my mind hates empty spaces so every random thought rushes in and creates beehives of chaos making it impossible to sleep.

So whatever! I don’t care if I’m not meditating within the strict International Meditating Guidelines. Who wrote the dumb rules anyway? Besides, the Meditation Dictators will only know I’m doing it wrong if I tell them and I don’t see any need to consult at the moment.

I also have a forest home where no bugs live, a secluded and deserted beach, and a glass hut on top of a mountain. If building these Happy Places aren’t technically considered ‘meditating’ well who cares? Right?

Okay, where was I? Oh yes, I scared the shit out of myself last night. So while I was lying in my furs, all warm and comfortable and pain-free, this hideous bellow interrupted my peace. It didn’t last long but it was deafening. I shook it off and hastened back to my luxurious nest. But then just moments later there was another horrific grinding sound, like rocks slamming against other rocks! WTF?! And a few minutes later another blaring trumpet followed shortly by a sound like someone sucking the bottom of their milkshake through a straw, only very, very loudly.

I was officially annoyed and irritated now!

Suddenly a thunderous, rolling growl erupted and my entire body jerked awake. Adrenalin gushed through my brain as I ricocheted upright.

“WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT NOISE?!!!” I shouted at the top of my lungs. Whoever is making these noises had better knock it off, tout suite! I suspected it was Mim because she was physically closer to my room than The Viking, who was out in the office. Even though she’s a spawn of my loins I was fully prepared to beat her bloody if she didn’t stop with the noise.

Mim called from the spare room, “I don’t hear anything.”

Then it could only be The Viking but I didn’t want to come right out and accuse him in case the noise was coming from outside the house. “I AM GOING TO SLOWLY ROTISSERIE THE PERSON MAKING THAT NOISE!!”

The Viking arrived in the bedroom. “What’s the matter?”

“SOMEONE IS MAKING GAWD-AWFUL NOISES AND IT’S WAKING ME UP!!”

“I didn’t hear anything.”

“Well someone is making noise and it had better stop because if I have to get out of bed to physically execute the culprit I am going to get cranky!!” All this yelling was totally ruining my Happy Place.

“What kind of noise was it?”

“It was like a grinding….something…..I don’t know! It was just loud!”

Except there was a sneaking suspicion in the back of my mind that I did know what all that noise was. Because I was fully awake and logic was happening now.

“Maybe you were dreaming?” he said reasonably, kindly, sweetly.

I settled back on the mattress and pulled the eye mask into place. “Yes, that’s probably what it was. I was just dreaming.” I rolled over and pulled the covers up to my chin. “Sorry.”

He closed the bedroom door quietly, humming a soft lullaby, while I returned to my cave with the fur bed, the hot pool, the shimmering crystals and the fireplace.

Because I don’t snore.

The Apple Didn’t Fall Far From the Tree

I started doing laundry this morning, checked Facebook, scrolled through the mountain of emails I get every day, checked the admin page for my blog and then opened up a blank word document and waited for inspiration.

Nothing. Nada. Ingen ting.

I haven’t fallen down in the last few days, no one has wronged me, I haven’t had a colossal mishap in the kitchen, The Viking has been flying under the radar for days and I haven’t embarrassed myself in public in quite a long time. So I sat staring at the computer screen, hands poised on the keyboard, ready for even the smallest nugget so I could harness it before it flitted away.

via GIPHY

Nope. There really is nothing. I have a headache just above my right eye but that’s only interesting to my right eye. Even I’m bored with it. I stood in front of the family room window for a while, hoping something would happen. Sometimes I get lucky and the front doors of the Seniors Apartments, across the street, vomits out the cranky old lady with her yappy dog. That’s usually worth watching because she anchors her walker on the sidewalk and the dog lunges at passersby. The younger ones veer into the street to avoid the dog but the older ones become indignant about obstructions on public sidewalks and shouting matches erupt with lots of cane pointing and gesticulating. One time the canes became light sabres. I didn’t actually see it myself (of course), but our next door neighbour was happy to fill us in.

Today – nothing.

And then…..

DING!

A message from Mim. It was two pictures.

mims-hand    mims-hand-4

Her: “I’ve been impaled! And by that I mean I stabbed myself. With wire. At school*. The size to pain ratio on a puncture wound is like 1:1,000,000,000! It hurt sooooo bad! But it’s just this tiny little prick! In my defence, it did bleed pretty impressively but once I mopped up the initial flow my skin basically healed itself. And I wasn’t the only casualty of the day, nor the worst. One guy got it under his nail. Another guy sliced his hand with the chicken mesh and had blood smeared everywhere. It was a catastrophe. A blood bath! The worst part though….the guys were wounded while working. I was simply holding the wire in my hand and for some reason I made a fist. I don’t know why. I just made a fist and it went through gloves and flesh to an astonishing depth of about 5mm. I think my hand might need to be chopped off!”

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Me: “It’s the tiny wounds that hurt the most! I read your tale of injury to The Viking and he said “For Fucksakes!” which means that he has as much sympathy for you as he has for me. Zero. I think we should chloroform him and jab him with sharp objects so he can appreciate the puncture to pain ratio for himself. Was your Man sympathetic? Because I know how to make chloroform at home now and I can make enough for him as well. The trick, as always, is to chloroform them and not me.”

Her: “Hahaha! Brad actually was sympathetic. So was my teacher. They understand how painful steel is when it cuts. Linda almost broke her toe last week from tripping over sheets on the floor and I said I could definitely see how that could happen and Brad got so mad! Like actually started yelling that it was impossible to break your toe like that. I had to demonstrate it at home and even then he just shook his head and mumbled something about women. LOL!”

Hmmmm…….I haven’t met Linda yet but I’m sure that I’m going to love her. I tripped on a piece of lint on the carpet once and got rug rash on my forehead, the tip of my nose and my chin. If we have nothing else in common, swapping accident stories and comparing scars should occupy us for quite some time.

via GIPHY

So, I’ve been saved by my clumsy daughter and may have found a new best friend – all in the space of an hour or so. Without them I would still be staring at the blank computer screen, which worried me for a little while. If I don’t fall down or embarrass myself in public or fight with The Viking, am I mute? Is that the entire extent of my talent? Do I have nothing else to say?

…….

…….

Nah! This world is full of shit that can happen to me. It’s full of shit that I will misinterpret or misunderstand. It’s just full of shit and I am drawn to shit like a moth to a flame. Or a 5 year old to Knock Knock Jokes.

Izzie – Coffee, Lucifer and Elizabeth Taylor

Good morning! Come in! We’ll have to make due with Chicken Broth today because someone didn’t buy any more Salmon…..cough….Missus! I did manage to save a couple treats from my Treat Toy though.

See this? It’s a new collar! And it’s made of pearls and little rhinestones. I couldn’t wait to show you. I look like Elizabeth Taylor! It didn’t have much of a bell so The Viking put a better one on. Now I’m a tinkling Elizabeth Taylor!elizabeth_taylor_1

The Missus wanted to take a picture of beautiful me but I have principles and one of those principles is to deny people what they want the most. If it’s within my powers to crap on their dreams, I crap.  It’s a gift.

I sit on the table and look beautiful. She grabs her phone, turns it into a camera, points it at me and…..I walk away….face down. The Viking said he could do better but I proved him wrong as well. The Missus snort-laughed.

Oh, come on. It’s funny! You should try it some time.

In other news, Junior came for dinner last night. I used to like him; I even curled up and slept on his lap a couple of times. But the first thing he said was “Is she any nicer?” Nicer?! What the fuck is that supposed to mean?

I’ll admit that I might not be the Debbie Reynolds of the Cat World but that doesn’t mean I’m not nice. I’m nice all the damned time! I don’t slash them with my claws anymore. That’s nice! I haven’t shredded a single roll of toilet paper for at least a week. That’s nice! And I haven’t made a single piece of art out of sugar in, at least, 2 weeks. That’s nice!

So I bit him. Go me, right?

The whole thing got me thinking though. And then I realized that I wish I wanted to be nice but I just don’t. I like sitting on my castle and slapping every person that comes through the back door. I don’t use my claws but I really give them a solid slap. I like the look on their face; the surprise that only comes from being unexpectedly assaulted. It’s funny.

The Missus was loading the dishwasher the other day and the water was running in the sink. I stuck my foot in the water and then flicked it right in her face when she was bent over to put a plate in the dishwasher. I liked the look on her face. I hadn’t thought it all the way through though, because she said “Challenge Accepted!” and pushed me into the sink full of water. I think she liked the look on my face. It was totally worth it though.

I like fucking up family pictures. I like the “Beware of Bite-y Cat” sign on the back door. I like yodelling at the top of my lungs sometimes because it annoys. I like waking them up in the middle of the night. I like complaining and demanding and lecturing.

lucifer_cinderella

So maybe I’m not meant to be a nice kitty. Maybe I’m meant to be more like Lucifer in Cinderella only much thinner and better looking. And really, aren’t there enough sweet, cute, adorable, affectionate, behaving cats in the world already? They wouldn’t even exist if there weren’t cats that were the opposite. Everything needs balance, right? Well, I am doing my part to keep the world balanced. How many cats can make that claim?

Yes, I know you are one of the good ones.  I won’t hold it against you.

You’re welcome.

Izzie – The Sound of My Fury

There is a new addition to the family.  She doesn’t have a name yet, but she certainly has a voice.  A very loud and piercing voice that drills into our ears and eats our brains. 

I’ll let her express her joy at joining the family:

Help!! Assholes have abducted me!  One minute I’m in the house I was born in, then I’m wrapped in a blanket that I’m sure was laced with Kitty Cocaine, and now I’m in HELL!

WHERE IS MY BROTHER?! WHERE IS MY MOTHER?!  What have you done with them, Hell Spawn?  I don’t care that those treats are delicious, I want to go home.  Now!

Continue reading “Izzie – The Sound of My Fury”

I’m Cranky Today

I’m kind of cranky today. I hate days like that.  I’m usually perfectly content and happy and roll with the occasional punches.  Not today though.  I’m tired because I had a shitty sleep last night and my shoulders and neck are sore, that space between my eyebrows has a headache and I have a slight stomach ache.  I should probably be wearing warning labels.  If I did they would say:

  • KEEP BACK 30 METERS…..or further. Yes, further is better.
  • DANGER OF BALLISTIC MISSILES….some may actually explode on impact.
  • DO NOT ENGAGE THIS PERSON….unless you have doughnuts….or chocolate cake.
  • BEWARE OF HIDDEN WEAPONS….actually just beware of any weapon, hidden or otherwise.
  • SUSPEND ALL REQUESTS UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE….seriously, don’t ask me for a damned thing.

Continue reading “I’m Cranky Today”

Guerilla Shopping

Shopping is not something I enjoy.  Grocery shopping is a nightmare of trying to avoid all the food that start yelling at me the moment I walk through the automatic doors.  It’s even worse when I’m hungry and those fucking doughnuts start up with me.  Clothes shopping is an even bigger nightmare because….well….I have big boobs…..and nothing fits properly.  I’m left trying to find the best fit that doesn’t fit so I can take it to a tailor who can make it fit.  Sigh.

And then there is the matter of shopping for things for our home. Thankfully, The Viking doesn’t interfere very often because the only things he’s really interested in is the refrigerator, the TV and the bed, everything in between is just fluff.

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I’m Not Criminally Inclined. Seriously.

Tape: It’s one of those things that I just can’t seem to master.  I have all the latest in Tape-Taming Technology at my fingertips but I still get it stuck to my skin or my clothes or the table and once it got stuck to The Viking when he happened to be walking past as I was wrapping a Christmas Gift.  I had to chase him all the way outside to peel the tape from the back of his head.  Sometimes static builds up and it sticks to itself and a wrestling match ensues.  I blame this on William Gilbert who invented static electricity.  Thanks for that, William!

Continue reading “I’m Not Criminally Inclined. Seriously.”

We had a Non-Argument Argument Last Night

Let’s talk about arguments. I don’t like them so I don’t do them.  The Viking is pretty much the same.  So we have these moments where something has happened and we freeze.  Neither one of us wants to confront the other so we sort of stand there looking at anything but each other.  We both have a role in this moment and we both completely understand who is at fault and who is the innocent party.

Without making eye contact we both kind of wander slowly away, both of us hoping the phone will ring or someone will knock on the door. The rest of the day becomes awkward because I should probably apologize or The Viking should, but making that apology would mean revisiting the thing that happened and neither of us wants that.  Eventually, someone will call or visit to distract us and we can go back to being not awkward again.

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Things I Find in my Bra

Let’s talk about Boobs. I have big ones which are more of a hindrance and less ‘sexy appendages’ the older I get.  A friend of mine once said, “Big boobs are only good for one thing……feeding the baby without taking it out of the crib”, and I have to concur.  I would happily give them to the first female I heard bemoaning her compact titlets.

There are challenges to having big boobs. For example, restaurant tables are all ‘Boob Height’; I like to call them Boob Tables because as soon as I sit down my boobs are resting on the table top.  The Viking enjoys the view but so does everyone else who happens to walk past or is taking our order.  Sure, it means I don’t necessarily have to wear a bra for support when I go out for dinner but that just makes the journey from the car to the table sort of weird.  Either The Viking or I have to hold them because no one wants to watch them sway back and forth as I walk.  Sure, I could probably hypnotize people to do my bidding – that is actually a very good idea! – but that would make us late for our reservation.

Continue reading “Things I Find in my Bra”

Cat and the Poodle Tree

I had a cat. Maggie.  She was black and the most anti-social cat on the planet but she was so good and brave and she was totally committed to me.  When she met The Viking she watched him for 76 seconds and decided he was the man for her.  And me.  But mostly for her.

And then she got sick and we couldn’t fix her so we had to put her down and I cried for days. And then Mim bought a cat about a year later.  Dexter.  Mim worked during the day and you should never leave a baby home alone so I said I would kitty sit.  But guess who completely forgot what raising a kitten was like?

Continue reading “Cat and the Poodle Tree”