Halloween Gone Awry

These are hysterical.







Have a safe and fun Halloween.

Monday, Monday

If ignorance is bliss,then I am in the vicinity of more than one euphoric plebeian. Even one is too many.

Oh. Joy.

Excuse me while I channel my former serene self. It is going to be one of those weeks.

So, how is your day so far?

Life Cycle

(I received this in a mass e-mail. No idea who the original author is, but it made me chuckle.)

Happy Friday kids, enjoy!

I think the life cycle is all backwards

You should start out dead and get it out of the way.

Then, you wake up in an old age home feeling better every day.

You get kicked out for being too healthy; go collect your pension,
then when you start work, you get a gold watch on your first day.

You work 40 years until you're young enough to enjoy your retirement.

You drink alcohol, you party, you're generally promiscuous and you
get ready for High School.

You go to primary school, you become a kid , you play, you have no
responsibilities, you become a baby, and then...
You spend your last 9 months floating peacefully in luxury, in
spa-like conditions; central heating, room service on tap, larger
quarters every day, and then, you finish off as an orgasm.

I rest my case !

So Very Original

To the gentleman who asked me if I could get good radio reception with all the foils in my hair last night, ha ha.

Extra points though for telling me I look fantastic after it was all done and styled.

The energy beauty takes. Is it really worth it? If it makes you feel good, then Hell yes

"Maryland, My Marlyand"

(Disclaimer: not sure if it's real but I like what this guy has to say)

Becoming Illegal (From a Maryland resident to his senator)

The Honorable Paul S. Sarbanes
Senate Office Building
309 Hart
Washington DC, 20510

Dear Senator Sarbanes,

As a native Marylander and excellent customer of the Internal Revenue Service, I am writing to ask for your assistance. I have contacted the Department of Homeland Security in an effort to determine the process for becoming an illegal alien and they referred me to you.

My primary reason for wishing to change my status from U.S. Citizen to illegal alien stem from the bill which was recently passed by the Senate and for which you voted. If my understanding of this bill's provisions is accurate, as an illegal alien who has been in the United Statesfor five years, all I need to do to become a citizen is to pay a $2,000 fine and income taxes for three of the last five years. I know a good deal when I see one and I am anxious to get the proce ss sta rted before everyone figures it out.

Simply put, those of us who have been here legally have had to pay taxes every year so I'm excited about the prospect of avoiding two years of taxes in return for paying a $2,000 fine. Is there any way that I can apply to be illegal retroactively? This would yield an excellent result for me and my family because we paid heavy taxes in 2004 and 2005.

Additionally, as an illegal alien I could begin using the local emergency room as my primary health care provider. Once I have stopped paying premiums for medical insurance, my accountant figures I could save almost $10,000 a year.

Another benefit in gaining illegal status would be that my daughter would receive preferential treatment relative to her law school applications, as well as "in-state" tuition rates for many colleges throughout the United States for my son.

Lastly, I understand that illegal status would relieve me of the burden of renewing my driver's license and making those burdensome car insurance premiums. This is very important to me given that I still have college age children driving my car.

If you would provide me with an outline of the process to become illegal (retroactively if possible) and copies of the necessary forms, I would be most appreciative. Thank you for your assistance.

Your Loyal Constituent,

Pete XXXXXX

Spinning Wheel

Okay. If the Hispanic gentleman does not stop walking around in a figure eight pattern while on his cell phone, I am going to have to ask him to have his conversation somewhere else.

It is quite distracting watching him walking around with one hand securely positioning the cell phone to his ear while the other hand is flapping around punctuating his sentences. Even better, the figure eight starts on the sidewalk and ends up in the parking lot. The UPS man almost took him out with the big brown truck.

At least it is happening in front of a business of healing.

Relaxation Report

I have to say that there is something to this whole holistic mind, body and soul stuff. I have been a non-believer for so long. Partly due to the fact that I don’t have the disposable income required to be a holistic groupie.

I can honestly say that the remnants of my massages from last week are still at work. Even though I worked all weekend to catch up from my Ohm trip, I am remembering to keep my shoulders down and relaxed, minor gaffs found over the weekend were greeted with shrugs rather than anger and I fit three exercise routines into my schedule while at home.

So far the pact I’ve made with myself is still in full force. Even I am surprised by it all.

Anyway, I have found only ¼ of a corner of my desk. The major dent has been made in the work load and I hope to resume normal everything by the end of business today.

Hope you all had a lovely weekend. Mine looked lovely through my office window.

Namaste…..

Ah……

Not even the gazillion piles of work related detritus on what used to be my brown desk cannot bring me out of my relaxed, Spa zone; much to write about kids but right now work prevails.

Hope you all have a good Friday. If it makes you all feel any better, I’ll be spending the weekend here in the office. So t2ed and Miss Britt, you were both right. There is hell to pay upon my return.

Thanks for all the comments, nice and envious. I will address them all later.

Back to the grind.

The Jig is Up, the Word is Out

Well not really but I thought it was a catchy title.

As you can see the edges are beginning to crack. I am headed off to the land of beautiful foliage and men in loin cloths who will simultaneously be peeling grapes and fanning my stressed out self with big ole palm leaves. (Those of you with minds in the gutter…this is why I love you!).

Some where also in the agenda is a Best Mates Escape where we will be massaged hopefully by the dudes mentioned above preferably still in their loin cloths. It would be a real bummer if it were Olga and Helga twins from the Soviet Union. You know sometimes you just can’t be picky.

Stress kills. This evening,I am off to kick stress in the proverbial balls. Try not to miss me too much.

Peace. Out. Ohmmmmm

Dear Highly Impatient and Agitative Manassas Cracker Barrel Patron:

Listen Lady, it is entirely conceivable that you are not from the area. If that is the case, you really have a bad sense of reading a situation. Let me see if I can give you a few pointers useful during your next visit. If you are from this area, then your tactic obviously did not work, you need to be more creative for next time.

Pretty much any eating establishment in the Northern Virginia area is going to have a lengthy waiting list starting around Happy Hour Thursday night and right through the Sunday evening meal. Don’t like crowds or waiting? Stay home. Perhaps fast food establishments were invented for a person such as yourself.

Badgering the barely English speaking hostess who is simply trying to earn a living announcing whose party is ready and who is soon to be on deck is not a productive measure. Repeating yourself at a decibel louder than the back ground noise also counter productive. Pointing your finger at her while exclaiming that you have a child asleep in the car and need to know the exact second your table will be ready will only get you pushed back further on the list.

Our hostess knew enough English to call off the names as the manager pointed to them on the list. Did the hostess have a thick accent which made simple names unrecognizable? Absolutely. Arguing with her as to the time of your party’s placement on the list versus the amount of time you’ve been waiting also futile. Standing there glaring at her while she made fun of you in her native tongue to the rest of her compadres, priceless.

Lady we are all hungry, we have memorized the inventory of the store in an attempt to waste time while waiting for our name to be called, the weather was a bit chilly to be seated in the comfy rockers and some of us were getting claustrophobic. Welcome to our world. Patience is a virtue. Learn to deal or become a hermit and let the rest of us enjoy our waiting and dining experience.

Wishing you much luck in this crazy, crowded world.

Sincerely - Wicked H

Paraskevidekatriaphobia

The morbid fear of Friday the 13th; I can honestly say it has never bothered me.

If there is a 13 step program for those of you (pun gloriously intended) I am happy to donate something. Although if some of you are so crippled with anxiety that it keeps you off the roads during rush hour, I say embrace your fear.

For the rest of us, TGIF!!!

Vulnerable Camaraderie

There is an unspoken anxiety while sitting in the mammogram suite waiting room. Obviously, it’s predominantly filled with women. Men do come in with their respective significant others but they somehow know to leave once she’s checked in. As we all wait to be called back to the changing area we do not overtly reveal to one another that we are all nervous on some level. Each time the door leading to the changing rooms opens, every woman flinches. I noticed today that some also flinch when their names are called others take in a deep breath.

We are sent to an ante room where there are individual dressing rooms which then opens up into another waiting area where we are all stripped of our clothing from the waist up wearing the exam gowns with the opening left in the front. Some of us have tied every strap available to remain modest. Others simply have the gown gathered like a bathrobe with our arms folded across our chests.

It is in this room where we engage one another. We make eye contact, we nod and smile. Here is where if you need reassurance, the rest of us are here to help. I took note that none of the women in the ante waiting room looked as though they were going through any type of treatment. Maybe it was a coincidence that all were there for screening only. We all were extremely grateful for that.

One by one a different tech calls us to the vice and when we are done, we return to the ante room. We are instructed not to get dressed until our tech returns to let us know that the preliminary pictures are satisfactory. Great, more angst but me and my comrades dressed in gowns will endure. We each tell the other that hopefully our results will be good enough to let us go back to our normal routine for that day. Once we are all cleared, we get dressed, wish each other good luck and carry on.

Ladies, get your mammograms. Yes, it is uncomfortable; sometimes downright painful. It certainly beats the alternative.

Rules of the Road in the Washington D.C. Metro Area

(Disclaimer: don’t know who the original author is but he or she is brilliance on a stick - enjoy)

First, you must learn to call it by its rightful name. It is called
D.C., or the "District." Only tourists call it Washington.

Next, if your road map of Montgomery County is more than a few weeks old,
throw it away and buy a new one. It's obsolete. If in Loudoun or Fairfax
County and your road map is one day old, it's already obsolete.

There is no such thing as a dangerous high speed chase in D.C. It's just
another chase, usually on the BW Parkway.

All directions start with "The Beltway" which has no beginning and no
end, just one continuous loop that locals believe is somehow clarified by an
"inner" and "outer loop" designation. This makes no sense to ANYONE outside
the Beltway.

The morning rush hour is from 5 to 11 AM. The evening rush hour is from
1 to 8 PM. Friday's rush hour starts Thursday morning, especially during
the summer on Route 50 eastbound.

If there is a ball game at the Redskins stadium, there is no point in
driving anywhere near PG County. Tip: Never say PG County to anyone from
Mitchellville, Upper Marlboro or Fort Washington. They'll blow a vessel in
their neck and go into a seizure.

If you actually stop at a yellow light, you will be rear-ended and shot
at. If you run the red light, be sure to smile for the $100 "picture" you
will receive courtesy of DMV. (However, if you don't go as soon as the
light turns green, you will get cussed out in 382 languages, none of them
English.)

Rain causes an immediate 50 point drop of IQ in drivers. Snow causes an
immediate 100 point drop in IQ and a stampede to the local Giant for bread,
milk and toilet paper.

Construction on I-270 is a way of life and a permanent source of scorn
and cynical entertainment. It's ironic that it's called an Interstate, but
runs only from Bethesda to Frederick (unless you consider Montgomery County
another state, which some do). Opening in the 60's, it has been torn up and
under reconstruction ever since. Also, it has a "Spur" section which is
even more confusing.

All unexplained sights are explained away by the phrase, "Oh, we're inTakoma Park".

If someone actually has his turn signal on, he is by definition, a
tourist.

Car horns are actually "Road Rage" indicators. Heed the warning.

All old ladies in Buicks have the right of way in the area of Leisure
World.

Many roads mysteriously change their names as you cross intersections.
Don't ask why, no one knows. If asking directions in Arlington, Langley
Park, Wheaton or Adams Morgan; you must know how to speak Spanish. In
Annandale, a Cambodian or Vietnamese dialect will come in handy. If on
Dupont Circle, Capital Hill or U Street; a gay dialect helps. If you stop
to ask directions in Southeast... well just don't.

A taxi ride across town will cost you $12.50. A taxi ride two blocks
will cost you $16.75. (It's a zone thing, you wouldn't understand.)

Traveling south out of DC on Interstate 395/95 is the most dangerous,
scariest thing you will ever do. There is nothing more frightening than
seven lanes of traffic cruising along at 85 mph, BUMPER TO BUMPER!!!

The minimum acceptable speed on the Beltway is 85. Anything less is
considered downright sissified. The Beltway is our daily version of a
NASCAR reality show. Strap up and collect points as you go.

The open lane for passing on all Maryland interstates is the far right
lane because no self-respecting Marylander would ever be caught driving in
the "slow" lane. Unofficially, both shoulders are fair game as well.

The far left lanes on all Maryland interstates are official "chat" lanes
reserved for drivers who wish to talk on their cell phones. Note: All
mini-vans have priority clearance to use the far left at whatever speed the
driver feels most comfortable multi-tasking in.

If it's 10 degrees, it's Orioles' opening day. If it's 110 degrees, it's
the Skins opening day.

If the humidity is 90+ and the temperature is 90+, then it's May, June,
July, August and sometimes even September.

If you go to a Skins football game, pay the $75.00 to park in the stadium
lot. It's cheaper than getting towed or a citation. By law, you're notallowed to walk on the "public" roads around the stadium during game days

One Benefit of not Being a Government Worker

No traffic on federal holidays. Sweet.

The other benefit? We in the medical business get to serve you all on your holidays. The waiting room is jam packed with those of you with the day off.

For the rest of you, I better see at least a 100 word post about the significance of Columbus and his travels. A copy of the receipts for all the purchases made on the elusive Columbus Day sales will also suffice.

Happy Columbus Day!

Marathoners in Training

Two of my best friends are gearing up for the Army 10 Mile race this weekend. I cannot tell you how impressed I am with them both. One is a seasoned runner, the other decided to take on the challenge. They have both been training for well over 6 months.

I will try to be there to cheer them on; I have been given specific tasks in order to help them complete the race:

I will be riding on a motorized scooter, holding a Bud Light which will be affixed to the end of a stick. I will chant over and over to them “RUN TOWARDS THE LIGHT!!!!”

Should either of them need medical attention, which we are not predicting but you know just in case, I am to find the most attractive Army medical person to take care of them. I will give him orders to perform mouth to mouth and breast exams. It is Breast Cancer Awareness month after all.

At the end of the race, I am to have a cooler filled with Bud Light for one and a dirty martini ready for the other.

Good luck ladies!!! You can do it. I have complete confidence in you!!!!!

Disconcerting

Now that I have a room with a view, I can witness the goings on in the work hood.

Would anyone else out there feel a tad uncomfortable if the same fire truck loaded with firefighters waiting to get to an emergency kept circling the complex? It’s been 25 minutes! One would hope that each time a new office complex gets built, the first people in the know would be the emergency responders.

If you will excuse me, I am going outside to offer some directional assistance.

19th Anniversary of my 25th Birthday

I am really not bothered with the number; 44. I’m okay with it.

There are more days that I don’t feel my age and then of course days I feel 84. I am willing to bet anyone one of us could make that statement. Many people who guess my age are always way off towards much smaller numbers. Either they are being very polite, I really don’t look my age or they have cataracts. At my age, I will take any type of compliment I can get.

I have been making pacts with myself recently. I have discovered that I need to make one more. I need to let go of the fact that my family cannot seem to organize something for my birthday without my involvement. I am not a difficult person to buy or arrange a gathering for; it’s that my family is inept when it comes to organization. Maybe I am difficult. I find that if I am the one who has to organize my own birthday celebration, it really sucks the fun out of it. No matter, next year I will not let this bother me.

It’s been a good birthday so far, the Redskins and the Raven’s won on Sunday, the weather could not be more beautiful, 15 of my friends will be gathering at my place Friday night to celebrate and a group of us are going out for steamed crabs tonight.

Life is good!


(Proof of my natural love of the Beach. Down the Ocean circa May 1963)

Buzzard Luck

The following took place about 15 years ago, back when I began assisting a general surgeon.

A buxom, 50 year old woman was involved in a motor vehicle accident resulting in a terrible breast contusion. When she hit the brakes, her seatbelt locked as it should and when the force of the accident propelled her body forward, her right breast suffered in the process. She came to our office for treatment of the breast contusion. She was an E cup and the entire breast was one huge bruise. Each week she would come in so that we could stick a rather large needle into her breast and draw off as much of the bloody serum as possible. Believe it or not, this actually relieved some of her pain.

By the fourth week of treatment the three of us became good friends. The woman was so comfortable with us that she began telling us the best stories during her treatment. She told us that if she didn’t have buzzard luck, she’d have none at all. To his credit, the surgeon was quite good at his specialty and Ms. Buzzard Luck barely knew when the needle was in her breast.

During her last appointment, the office was a little crazed which resulted in her having to wait a bit before I could get into the exam room to chaperone and assist. After the third time I stuck my head into to room to let her know the Doctor and I would be right there, she told me to send him on in. She was in no need of a chaperone, she trusted the surgeon. To which I replied, “honey it’s not you I am worried about. I am afraid you may molest the good doctor.”

As the Doctor and I finally entered the room, Ms. Buzzard Luck stated that she was sad that she wouldn’t see us again. We replied in kind and told her to stop by any time she was in the neighborhood. A week later she sent us a beautifully framed picture of the ugliest buzzard I have ever seen. The note on the card read: Thank you to the Doc and his Bodyguard.



October is National Breast Cancer Awareness Month and is dedicated to increasing awareness of breast cancer issues, especially the importance of early detection. It works through a nationwide education campaign aimed at the general public, state and federal governments, health care professionals, employers, and women of all ages and ethnic groups. Please remind all the women in your lives to perform self breast exams regularly. If caught early, breast cancer can be beaten.

Furry Parenting 301

It seems my furry nephew has been a little more than mischievous this weekend.

He apparently got into my sister’s work bag. She had placed the remaining personalized M&Ms from her birthday party in her back pack. The satchel is kept in an area that Google is not supposed to roam. Shifty devil that he is, he gained access to the room and covertly scarfed the contents of one of the gift bags. The little bag contained 25-30 personalized M&Ms; too many for a pup to ingest at one time.

After much excitement and two teaspoons of hydrogen peroxide forcibly fed, Google is doing fine. Thankfully the peroxide worked it’s magic and poor Google violently emptied the contents of his stomach several times. Sous-Chef Mermaid gave me the chunky blow by blow details via phone. She was amazed that he didn’t chew any of the M&Ms. Rather, he swallowed them whole. I explained to her that he must have known that what he was doing was wrong. Some lessons are learned the hard way.

I am hoping that he will never go after another M&M for the rest of his life. Not likely but an Aunt can hope.