Archive of ‘Funny’ category

Put Me in Coach….

I am not particularly athletic, unless you include Sweatin’ to the Oldies, but as a mother of a lot of boys, sports, currently baseball, have infiltrated every part of our lives. I love to watch little kids get a hit, or make a catch and to see the pride beaming from their faces. There is nothing like watching your child smiling from ear to ear after making a great play and knowing that not one bit of that athletic ability came from you, and your pretty sure not your husband either, but hoping that it might last a few more years.

Recently, Handsomes #1 and #2 had weeknight games, at different locations, that overlapped; therefore, The Grillin’ Fool and I had to divide and conquer. It’s barely mid June and already 1000 degrees in St. Louis, so a full day at the pool followed by an early evening game, that I kind of forgot about until about an hour before hand, is about as much fun as I could possibly handle during the last week of my maternity leave.

In typical fashion, we couldn’t find hats, socks or cleats, despite the fact that every single person in the house swears that they put them away in their proper places just like I asked. Handsome #2 and I were headed out for the early shift. He was clad in head to toe black and grey polyester, bright blue and yellow soccer socks and tennis shoes due to the fact that we couldn’t devote any more time to the scavenger hunt for proper equipment. All the damns that I gave had melted in the heat.

The game started at 6pm and was located at least 15 minutes from home. We left at 5:51pm. I barely made it out of the subdivision when I noticed this in the rear view mirror.

h21

He hadn’t just nodded off, this child was snoring….loudly. Rather than poke the bear, I figured I would let him rest until we got to the field. We rolled in at 6:03pm and I noticed that every player on the field was female. Perfect. I had driven to the wrong place, miles past where we were supposed to be. Suddenly, Chief Meteorologist Maurmi comes in with this warning.

h22

I check my calendar, find the right location and get to the field at 6:17pm just in time for Handsome #2 to wake up with a seat belt crease across his face that could easily be mistaken as a failed attempt to gauge his eye out.

“Are we here? Oh good, my team is up to bat!”

He runs to the dugout and after missing the top of the inning somehow finds himself on deck. Seems fair that all of the other soon-to-be first graders who have battled the seventh circle of hell in the field should move aside for someone who just finished his beauty sleep, right?!?!?! He gets a hit, the kids finish out the inning and head back out to the field.

Handsome #2 didn’t seem particularly thrilled to be out in the heat and each time the thunder would clap, he’d look up as if God was talking directly to him. The other team got a few hits, scored a few runs and it was time for our boys to bat. Once again, there he stood with a helmet on, seemingly undeservedly high up in the batting order, when the coaches spot lightening and the game is called….at 6:31pm. In just 40 minutes, Handsome #2 had taken a nap, visited two Catholic Church fields, batted and gotten a hit, and played an inning in the field. This kid has done more with his athletic career in less than an hour than I have my entire life!

We headed for the car and he looked up at me and said,

“I need a nap, that was exhausting!”

 

 

 

 

Ah, Ah, Ah, Ah……Stayin’ Alive…..

“Yep, the test is positive,” the doctor said to me with sad eyes.

OMG, I thought. This is all I need right now. I have four kids and I don’t have time for this! Ugh, no! I am not pregnant, God help us all.  Strep. Handsome #2 tested positive for strep. The nasty little bug that for my children means not only a high fever and sore throat, but we get the added bonus of vomiting….awesome! Perhaps I should have believed him when he said he didn’t feel well.

I cannot go to school today, said Handsome #2, Hooray!

I left the pediatrician’s office to grab Maurmi, Handsome #3 and the baby and headed to the pharmacy to pick up Handsome #2’s prescription. We made it past the checkout line when all of a sudden I heard the horrifying screaming.

“Ouch. Oh. Ouch. I am so hurt. Ahhhhhh! I have too much blood!”

I looked down to see Handsome #3 on the floor and huge droplets of red all over the bright white tile.

“OMG! What happened?” I screamed.

“Maurmi hurt me so bad,” He blubbered as tears poured down his cheeks and blood ran from his finger.

“Colleen! I would never hurt him. OMG, my baby. Never. I would never hurt you.”

Duh.

He got the finger caught in the cart, how, we may never know, and somehow ripped a ginormous piece of skin in the process. I thought that we were headed to the ER, I mean, So.much.blood. I always react well in emergency situations.

“Jesus, mom! OMG. What do we do?”

“Colleen! He is hurt.”

“I realize that. What am I supposed to do?”

“Colleen! He is hurt!”

“What do I do?”

This game of moron who’s on first went on for much longer than it should have, extremely loudly and neither one of us really doing anything. Maurmi took off to grab napkins when a helpful young man in uniform appeared to inform me that they had a first aid kit available in case I needed it. Nice offer, but I needed something immediately as my child was becoming more and more hysterical.

Maurmi returned with her contribution to the ER effort and I ran to the pharmacy area to grab a box of Band Aids, hoping that he would sit still long enough for me to put them on. As I returned to the scene with a box of Paw Patrol bandages, there stood a big man with a walkie talkie acting very important.

“Yep. I’ve got them. I am here. Yep. Blood. There is blood. Yep. Yep. Got it. Bring on the clean up crew.”

By the look on his face, I was certain that there would be a hazmat team approaching soon. Maurmi did her best to wipe up the floor while big red stood there doing a whole lot of nothing.

“Excuse me,” I said trying to get to my baby.

“Ma’am, we have a first aid kit for these kinds of the things.”

This is now the second time that the first aid kit has been offered, but nothing has been produced. Perhaps they wanted me to sign some kind of permission slip, but instead I ripped open the box and started to tend to the wound. Thankfully, my baby boy sat still and I was able to attach the bandages tightly enough to stop the bleeding.

“Oh. Ewe, gross,” Said the walkie talkie man.

Thankfully for him, I bit my tongue and went on about my business. I wanted to get Handsome #2’s medicine and get the heck out there. I headed to the pharmacy, still covered in blood myself and looking like a serial killer, and requested the prescription. Not ready….awesome…. Since the bleeding had stopped and I needed a few more lunchbox items, I pressed on with my shopping.

We wandered through the toy department, the grocery area and the baby section when I noticed that Handsome #3 was starting to act funny. His eyes were drooping and he was nodding off.

“Colleen, what is the matter with him?” Maurmi asked.

“I don’t know. This is really odd, ” I replied.

“My God, did he hit his head? Or is he in shock from the pain?”

“Handsome #3, wake up! Wake up!” I demanded.

“Stop talking to me. Don’t look at me. I am so hurting,” he screamed.

Certain that he had some kind of concussion, again, I started to panic. Maurmi and I stood next to the cart discussing our next course of action, but neither one of us touching him, not wanting to disturb him. Had we reached out to comfort him, perhaps we could have saved the conspiracy theories and realized a few minutes sooner that he was hotter than a firecracker. God help us, another one bites the dust. Strep is ugly and mean and contagious as hell!

Thankfully he had tried to amputate his finger a few minutes earlier and we were still at the store so that I could call the pediatrician and get his medicine called in before I left. I checked in at the pharmacy to make sure they had received the new order and grabbed Handsome #2’s medicine and gave him a dose right there in the store. The sooner we attack the bug, the better, right? Ten minutes later, Handsome #3’s medicine was ready, so I dosed him up too and we headed to the cafe for a quick drink and a pretzel.


The fever had taken its toll on my buddy and he had enough trauma for the day, so we headed home to get everyone comfortable and in bed. As I unloaded my bags to put away the groceries I found that I was one bottle short. Handsome #2’s medicine was somehow left at the store. Come on! Seriously?!?!!?

I waited until the Grillin’ Fool got back from work before I headed back to the store, with Maurmi of course, to pick up the newly ordered medicine because no one could find it in the store. Maurmi looked through every cart.


We retraced our steps, searched the aisles and shelves, but it was nowhere to be found. I returned to the pharmacy for the third time and promised not to lose it, even putting it in my mother’s purse to ensure it would stay with me.

As we left the store to head home, we walked past the scene of the crime and noticed there was still a bit of blood left. Interestingly, the large fella with the walkie talkie was also still there, still hooked up to the walkie….Having a snack…..

 

The Devil Went Down to SoCo

Recently, Handsome #2 and I had an opportunity to spend some time together, just the two of us. When I have these special moments, I am sure to tell each boy how much I love him and that he is my favorite. I also make him promise that he will never, ever tell his brothers. It makes them feel good and each of them truly is my favorite, in very different ways.

Handsome #2 and I dined at his first-choice fancy restaurant, Steak n Shake, and then headed to a mother son event at his school. I was a bit weepy that night, realizing that he would be in kindergarten next year, complete with blue Tom Sawyer shorts and a crisp white polo. OK, that is a lie. That crisp white polo is just for the first day of school picture. The rest of the school year is slightly dingy with a required morning sniff test to see if we can make it one more day.

My sweet second son was so proud to have me with him and couldn’t wait to show me all around the building. We ate snacks, played games and had a fun picture taken.  But, the evening started after 6pm, which is oh so close to the witching hour when all of my handsomes become blood-lusting demons. As the evening progressed, I noticed his eyes glaze and the horns begin to pop from his head.

If I was going to make it home unscathed, I’d have to move fast while he was still smiling. We said our goodbyes and headed to the car, still happy and chatting about the fun we had. As he climbed over to the third row seat, I put my key into the ignition and the horns popped all they way through as his eyes became flecked with flames.

Handsome #2-Mom, what are you doing? I am not buckled. Do you hear me? I am not buckled.

Me-It’s ok, buddy. I’m not going anywhere, just getting the air flowing. Buckle up.

Handsome #2- Yeah, right. You big dummy.

Me- Excuse me?

He caught my icy glare in the rear-view mirror and began to panic.

Handsome #2- Oh no. I’m sorry, momma. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.

Just as I was about to acknowledge the apology and excuse his moment of temporary insanity, his eyes closed and his hands clasped. He implored our Lord for forgiveness, certain that I was going to murder him.

Handsome #2- In the name of the father, son, holy spirit. Amen. Bless us, Oh Lord, for these thy gifts which we are about to receive from thy bounty, through Christ, Our Lord.

Amen.

And just like that, he earned himself an extra spray of starch on the first day of school……

 

bst

Ladies, I’ll be Pressed to Impress on the First Day of Kindergarten

Hey, You Guys!

 

Goonies-Movie-Quotes

On June 7, 1985, exactly 30 years ago today, ‘The Goonies’ was released. At the time, I was six. My brothers were four, three and eight weeks. My mom and dad were 33 and 36, respectively. Today, I am 36. My sons are seven, five and two. I am the exact age that my father was when he and my mother decided to head to the movie theater with four and three-year-old boys. Four children under six, including a newborn who was left with God only knows that day, would make anyone’s judgement a bit lax.

 

The anticipation was incredible. After what seemed like hours, 15 minutes real time, we walked in the doors. Candy, a huge tub of popcorn and one soda with four straws later, we were headed to the upper balcony ready for the Goonies experience.

 

We were all hooked on the tale of friendship packed with action, adventure and a really creepy guy chained up in the basement. Despite our young ages, we sat pretty still while devouring snacks and slurping drinks, until we didn’t. There was dancing down the aisle. Not tap or salsa, this looked a bit more like the hustle.

 

One-eyed Willy’s boat had just been discovered when the real performance started. A poor, Pepsi-filled toddler, began the chant familiar to all parents,

 

It began softly with a chair squirm. “Um, I have to go. I have to go to the bathroom.” He twisted and twirled. “I have to go. I have to go. Daddy, I really have to go.”

 

The Fratelli’s just appeared and now a kid is filled with urine up to his eyeballs. Perfect. With mere minutes of the movie left, but not wanting to miss a second, my dad did what any loving parent would do. He made the ultimate sacrifice. Even though he was really full, he forced himself to eat the last of the popcorn, creating a makeshift toilet and told my brother to tinkle. Right there. In the tub. In the theatre. And he did.

Goonies never say die……

Who Let the Dogs Out?

Since I scored an amazing Notorious B.I.G. shirt at Target last night for a mere $7.48, I was extra motivated this morning to get up early and walk. I hate mornings. I hate exercise, but I love Biggie Smalls. So, if I am going to look like one of those rap guy’s girlfriends, I need to get my a$$ moving.

biggie

Sometimes the sales just hypnotize me

I started my playlist and ventured out the door at 5:45. My neighborhood is friendly. Lots of silver citizens walking their dogs soon after sunrise because they get up at 3:30 am and by the time the first rays appear in the sky it is nearly their lunchtime. I wave, smile and get back to singing out loud not giving a darn what anyone thinks.

There is a house in my subdivision that has a secret club in their garage. Except, it’s not a club and there is nothing secret about these people because the door is always open so the nosy neighbors constantly rubberneck. They sit there for hours on end smoking cigarettes, drinking beer, watching TV and probably plotting to kill all of us.

I had always thought that happy hour started about noon because the party is in full swing by the time I get home from work at 5. Apparently, I was wrong this place is a 24-hour all ages show. As I approached the club this morning, the door was open and the table was surrounded. Standing near the door was big black dog that I thought had on a leash. After I inadvertently locked eyes with the beast, I realized it was just a crappy piece of ripped fabric dangling around its neck.

He came toward me, so I walked a little faster. Then he walked a little faster. I crossed the street, he crossed the street. All the while the party barn stared as if they were watching some crappy karaoke, only half paying attention, but sure to laugh at the performance. Realizing that this dog wasn’t going away, I yelled out,

“Can you please come and get your dog?”

“That’s not our dog.”

Holy $h!+. This dog didn’t belong to these people! It was hungry and I was on the menu. It is no secret that I am convinced that my death will be the result of an animal attack, but I truly thought that a cat would be my demise. As I gathered my thoughts, I continued to walk slowly and the dog followed me.I started the Hail Mary. If I was going down, I was going down with the Lord on my side.

For more than a half a mile this dog was with me. I turned around periodically, err every 3 seconds, to make sure he wasn’t going to sneak up and maul me right there on the street. I was six houses from my own when the beast spotted a stop sign and was instantly obsessed. This was my shot. If I could get down the hill I could sprint, OK maybe a really fast trot, to my house.

As I made my way to the bottom of the hill and spotted my front door, I felt a wave of relief come over me. I had made it, unscathed. Suddenly I heard a rustle behind me, followed by a bark it bark. I sheepishly peered over my shoulder and the hound was charging! Holy $h!+!?!?. I stood still sure that if I moved I was dead.

I prepared for Heaven, saying goodbye to my children and husband, all sleeping soundly unaware that I am about to be killed on the front lawn. And then, God himself appeared on the lawn across the street. Squirrel! The dog spotted it, forgot about me and disappeared into the common ground. I took off toward my backyard and slammed the wooden gate behind me, but not before crying and maybe peeing a little.

My Fit Bit logged 5500 steps before 7am. If the entire neighborhood could just go ahead and unleash their animals around 6 every morning, I’ll hit my weight loss goals by the end of next week.

I see your Darth Vader and Raise you a Sophia Petrillo

Handsome #1 and Me

Constantly having our own little Clone War

May the force be with you. I know that is from Star Wars. I know that Darth Vader is the father. I can identify Luke, Han, Leia and Yoda and probably a Storm Trooper in a line up, but let’s not push it.

Truth be told, if I didn’t have three sons and a Star Wars Nerd husband, I wouldn’t know any of this. Sure, I watched it as a kid, but that too was a result of being the only girl around and sometimes you lose.

Handsome #1 and Handsome #2 are obsessed with Star Wars. So much so that Handsome #2 will only wear Star Wars t shirts. He has four and with seven days in a week there is a good chance that the one he is wearing is on day two or three because I prefer the laundry stack to the ceiling before I throw a load in.

If they aren’t playing the video game, beating one another up with homemade light sabers or building some kind of weird base that I can’t remember what they call for all of their Lego Star Wars action figures, they are quizzing anyone who wants to listen on Star Wars trivia.

Seriously, I know nothing and don’t really care to learn. But for reasons I cannot understand, they think that I do. In their minds, I should stay up watching movies or reading comic books and fan fiction in an effort to learn something before the next quiz. Handsome #1 in particular gets extremely agitated when I can’t produce an answer. On a recent drive to school, things became particularly heated as we pulled into the parking lot.

Handsome #1: Mom, who is Luke’s father?

Me: Darth Vader.

Handsome #1: Correct. Now, who is Luke’s sister?

Me: Princess Leia.

Handsome #1: Exactly. What is Jar Jar Binks?

Me: He’s one of the guys they know.
Handsome #1: No, mom, what is he?

Me: Is he that slug guy?

Handsome #1: That is Jabba the Hut. Come on mom! What is Jar Jar? Is he a Ithorian, Rodian, Mon Calarmian or a Gungun?

Me: I don’t know, let’s listen to the radio.

Handsome #1: Mom! What is he? This is not that hard!
Me:You tell me, Handsome #1! Is Rose dumb? Is Dorothy a jerk? What about Blanche, is she a hussy? And what about Sophia? Don’t even get me started on Stanley!

Handsome #1: I have no idea what you are talking about.

Me: Welcome to my life. Have a nice day, and thank you for being a friend…..

Have Yourself a Merry Little………..

As a resident of St. Louis, life has been emotional these past few weeks. It’s sad to see heartache, destruction and fear in a time that is supposed to be happy and filled with love and family. While I can’t fix the problems in our city, cure disease or stop global warming, I can give you the next best thing.

There is no one, not a single, solitary soul who can make me laugh the way that Maurmi can. She is beautiful, joyful, grateful and loving. Even in the lowest of lows, the toughest of times, she finds a reason to smile. She never meets a stranger and is a bit of an impromptu therapist. Whether it be in a waiting room, a grocery store, the line at the bank, people see her and begin to unload the worst of their problems on her and she listens, smiles and will say a prayer as they walk away always reflecting that life could be worse.
Tonight, as she trimmed the tree, she got some sad and clearly startling news, and yet she was able to keep in the holiday spirit……..
I love her, I admire her and I want to be exactly like her….Well, maybe not exactly, I’m more of an alto……

Watch for Falling Idiots

I have never considered myself terribly proactive. I have been known to wait until there are so few groceries in the house that I make my children “junk lunches” to take to school. They call this an adventure, I call it a futile attempt to make string cheese, raisins and a handful of cereal flakes a balanced meal. The laundry has piled up to the point of no return and rather than tackle it, I have bought everyone new outfits. So when the change battery light came on in my car a few weeks ago, I looked at it for 10 seconds and then went about my business. It popped up again last week and I almost got concerned, but then forgot that I didn’t care. But when I saw it today a midst the snow flurries and temperatures that make me want to put on what the handsomes lovingly refer to as the coverfeets and keep them on for the next several months, I realized that I better take action.

It was the end of a long day at work and I figured that super big box store that does and sells just about everything was just as good a place as any for a quick battery replacement. Evidently 1/2 of SoCo agreed because the line was way longer than I anticipated. I arrived at about 5:50 and was greeted by a gentleman who said that it would be about an hour and that as soon as my car was finished they would page me. No big deal, I could certainly fill my cart with groceries and at least $100 worth of other crap that I didn’t need.

I walked the aisles grabbing bread, bottled water, pajamas, socks, deodorant, you know, the usual. I was quite enjoying the stroll alone without three little loves nagging, err helping me. I got lost in the peace and quiet and before I knew it, it was 7:15. I hadn’t heard my name called, so I strolled back to automotive to see how much longer the wait would be.

As I turned the corner, to say that I was surprised was an understatement. The department was dark as night, the registers off, the doors closed, not a sole in site. Certainly there must have been a power failure back there causing all of the lights to be off because no way in the world could they be closed, right? Wrong…..

I made my way to the service desk and very calmly, even laughing, explained my predicament. I mean, really, who comes in to the store in a car, asks to have service on that car, and doesn’t expect to leave in that car? I might as well have said that I murdered a family of puppies because the look of horror on their faces was intense. They had no idea what to do. Again, I was calm. They called a supervisor, who suggested they call a manager. Hmm, no $h!+?!?!? The manager then said to call a supervisor. These poor women were playing a game of who’s on first and I was starting to come unhinged.

I could feel myself  ready to explode. I called my husband and while maniacally laughing told him what was happening. He wasn’t sure whether to call the manager or the police, but ultimately laughed and gave me a, “Good luck. Let me know how is works out.” A manager finally showed up and when I, once again, explained what had happened, I was greeted with the look of, “I have no f@#^ing idea how to do my job,” on her face. She disappeared in to the night, leaving me with a cart full of a crap and an old man behind me offering to drive me home in a kind of nice, but I could totally be a predator way.

I was finally greeted by a man who seemed even more confused than everyone else in the store because he said that he was back there the whole time and that no one came to get him. At this point, I couldn’t have cared less, I just wanted to get the hell out of there and home to my babies. A cool $110 for the battery later, I was out the door. I had just discovered on my way home from work that Holly was back on satellite radio an I was ready to rock the hell out of some Karen Carpenter.

I turned the car on, all systems go. Well, all except the navigation and sound systems. If there is one thing that is absolutely essential in a minivan to a woman like myself who wants nothing more than to bless the world with her musical styling,it is a fully-functioning stereo system. When I got in the car tonight, instead of seeing my navigation and audio menu, I saw this middle finger right in my face.

Ha, Ha, Ha, Idiot…We win, we always win!

Not.a.clue. Not a f%^&!”! clue…..You might as well ask me to predict the Powerball numbers because there was just as much of a chance that I would get those correct as my knowing what the hell this PIN is. I tried everything, every combination of every significant and insignificant numbers, nothing. So instead of singing Christmas tunes on the way home, I screamed, cried and beat the steering wheel. Dramatic? Perhaps, but this on top of the news of Richard Simmon’s depression today. I just can’t even…..If you need me, I’ll be singing along to Sweatin’ to the Oldies 2 while eating a bowl of Cookies n Cream…..

D is for really big idiot

I was simply horrified today when I saw that a local grocery store, my grocery store, my neighborhood location was the scene of a robbery. Actually, it was a bank satellite office inside of the bank. Perhaps the robber was looking to cash in on Mr. Big Shot $24,000 ATM Slip? I was determined to get to the bottom of it, so I threw on my Nancy Drew hat and headed to the supermarket to sniff out some clues.

OK, so that is a bunch of crap. I was headed home from an event at Finnegan’s school and had to stop  to grab a few things for an event at work tomorrow. I gathered my items and made my way to the front of the store and headed to the only open lane, which happened to be right next to the bank. I consider myself to be a friendly, outgoing gal (I hate the word gal, but in the following exchange, it seemed an appropriate name). Per my ususal, I whipped up the following convo with the 17ish male checker and his trusty sidekick, the bagger.

Me: Wow, I can’t believe that someone would really rob a bank, in a grocery store, with all of these people around.
Checker: Yeah, it was pretty dumb.
Me: I know. Who does that and thinks that they can get away with it with all of these security cameras?
Checker: People do dumb things all the time.
Me: Walking in here, to the front of the store past all of the cameras is like walking in with a big sign around your neck saying, remember my face, I am about to rob the place.They are just asking to be picked out of a lineup.
Checker: Yeah, people are dumb. They do all kinds of stuff that makes them stick out and makes them memorable. Some are just like hard to forget.
Me: I know, people are just dumb. It’s like they want to get caught. Thanks so much for your help. Have a great night.
Checker: You too, Mrs. Thomas.

Huh? Did he just call me Mrs. Thomas? I don’t write checks. He didn’t ask for my ID for the Diet Coke and water that I just purchased. I guess that I have shopped at this store so many times throughout the last decade that they have come to know me. What a nice young man. Wow, they really are the friendliest stores in town.

Or….I am the biggest idiot in town….you decide…..

Upon getting into my minivan I realized that right above my heart was this Godforsaken name tag…..I was just asking to be picked out in a line up…..idiot…..

You Better Work….

Sweet Mary Mother of God. Have you ever had one of those days when you walk out the door looking fierce, or so you think, and in a matter of minutes you deteriorate completely. You spend a great deal of time on your look, particularly your hair, because your physical appearance is important for your line of work and you need to be on trend and put together. But, then the planets shift and your are in trouble. Not like you forgot your lipstick, and need a pick me up. No, I am talking more of the holy $h!+ if Stacy and Clinton saw this they may reincarnate “What Not to Wear” just for you.

You catch a glimpse in the rear view and notice a problem

The scarf seemed like a good idea when I left the house, but after further investigation the color and tie technique is resembling an infected goitor. But, that isn’t the worst of my problems. Take a look at that lipstick. It looks as if I put it on with my feet or let Handsome #2, my three-year-old, give it a shot.

Hmm, did you style your hair with a fork, Ariel?

Here, you can really see how great that lipstick application is.I appear to be hemorraging, but just on the sides. Somehow, the center has nothing on it, at all. Shall we discuss the hair? I am quite sure that I used AT LEAST five different products to keep my faux hawk in shape, but somehow it looks more like I just got a fresh trim from a flowbee.

Excuse me Eric Carmen, can we discuss those Hungry Eyes

Holy $h!+ this was the shock of the day. I knew that I looked terrible, but when in the hell did I develop a lazy eye? Looking at this makes me nervous, I am not sure which one to look at. They both look like they hurt and could induce instant vertigo and vomiting….Make.it.stop.

Just cover your whole face and no one will know it’s you

I figured that putting on my sunglasses would make things better. Let’s see about that, idiot. Not only does my hair look like Blanche Devereaux after a romp in the woods, but those damn glasses are so big, they are nearly wrapping around my head. WTF is going on?

Since there was nothing that I could do to make things better from my car, I did the only reasonable thing that I could. I drowned my sorrows in a 440z Diet Dr. Pepper, drove to my office and hid. I suppose it could have been worse. I could have been standing on the beach in a bikini thinking that I was really hot stuff….oh wait……

Oh look, an awkward boy in a bikini with a popeye…..

1 2 3