The one where Sean and I are ridiculous...

I know what you're thinking ... which post aren't Sean and I ridiculous in? And you're right. We're pretty ridiculous on a regular basis. But some incidents of ridiculousness just scream, "Blog me!" And I have two of those for you today.

One day a week or so ago (it was a Wednesday, not that it matters), Sean and I drove CJ back to his house in Macomb. Someone usually rides with me because I get a little teary when I drop him off and if I have to drive the hour back home alone, I get more than a little teary. So, more often than not, Sean rides along to distract me. Because he's a sweetie like that (but don't tell anyone because it will ruin his street cred).

So, after dropping CJ off we decided to swing through Jimmy John's and get sandwiches to take home for dinner. After I park, I realize Sean is not making any move to get out of the car.

Me: Aren't you going in with me?

Sean: Why?

Me: I don't know what you want.

Sean: The same thing I always get.

Me: Can't you just come in?

Sean: *huge sigh like I'm killing him* Fine.

Now, by that "fine," I know something is up. And as I swing open the door to JJ's~

Sean: *very loudly* Well, I'm not the one who sells my body for money!

Me: *quickly thinking* How else was I going to pay for your gender re-assignment surgery?

All conversation had stopped in Jimmy John's and I turned to the counter to see everyone's mouth hanging open. We got some weird looks, but they certainly made our subs quick. The moral of this story is A) making Sean do something he doesn't want to do ALWAYS has consequences and B) if you're going to hang with us, you better have lightening fast mental reflexes. I like to thing that evening's work went quickly for those JJ employees since they had something so juicy to discuss.

And yesterday Sean and I got tattoos. I got a special one in honor of CJ. My favorite tattoo artist designed a Claddagh symbol using the autism puzzle pieces for the heart and put CJ's initials in for me. And I got a little star for Dylan added to my foot tattoo. Sean got Marvin the Martian on his leg. His Dad has one there and so does his Uncle.

 

My CJ tattoo

 

 

The purple stars represent my children, so I added a little blue star off of Mo's star for Dylan.

 

 

Sean's Marvin.

 

 

If you're near the Quincy area and need a tattoo, I can highly recommend Pleasurable Pain. Jerry is a fantastic artist, everything is sterile, and they're nice guys. Mo has had all five of her tattoos there, I've had three of mine, and Sean's had his two done there.

 

So we go in to get our tats and we're a few minutes early. So Jerry is working on paperwork and Sean and I sit there quietly. But on his laptop he's got Youtube up and so I start watching the video for the song that's playing. To see the video, click here. It was Avenged Sevenfold's A Little Bit of Heaven.

  

Then I look at Sean and we both chuckle. Jerry turns around and I say~

 

Me: Your choice of songs leaves me vaguely uneasy.

 

Jerry: Why? What do you listen too?

 

Me: Pretty much everything. It's the video for this one ...

 

Jerry: What? Having sex with dead people is weird?

 

Me: Funny story. (At that point, he looks uneasy) I'm actually putting out a book of zombie erotica. And after reading the vast amount of submissions for it, necrophilia actually doesn't sound weird to me.

 

Jerry: *laughs* I bet a lot of people will read that book. Someone told me the other day I looked like the kind of guy who keeps dead girls in his basement.

 

Me: I don't think so. Besides, looks are deceiving.

 

And it works out that I'm going to take copies of 50 Shades of Decay to his shop to sell. You just never know what kind of networking will pay off. But later, after Sean gets his tattoo, I get mine. And just as Jerry starts, Sean gets a phone call and walks outside. He comes back in and this conversation ensues~

 

Sean: Are you doing work emails?

 

Me: Um, no?

 

Sean: You are the only person I know who can work through getting a tattoo.

 

Me: Well you weren't here to talk to me and distract me, so it seemed like a good way to distract myself. By the way, I'm really thirsty. So if you go outside again can you get my soda out of the car?

 

Sean: I wasn't planning on leaving you.

 

Me: You just did.

 

Sean: Yeah, I meant again.

 

Me: Why? I think I'll be fine. Granted, that might be how little girls disappear. But those are skinny young girls, not chubby grandmas in their forties.

 

Sean: Ha! You're a grandma getting a tattoo! *he and Jerry both laugh* And besides, those girls don't disappear; they're in his basement.

 

At which point I start giggling and get admonished to "hold still."

 

And that my friends, is a glimpse into our ridiculousness. I kid you not, it knows no bounds.

 

And for those who may not have seen Mo's last tat- here's a picture. I told you Jerry does great work!

 

 

 

 

Yes, it is HUGE. She better not have too many more children or her whole body will be covered!

 

Hugs to you all,

 ♥Spot

The one where I share a funny story...

I'm not going to apologize for my absence (although, I am sorry), I'm just going to relate a funny story. Please note that names have been changed to protect the guilty. Because, well, really, the innocent never do anything they need protecting from, do they? But I didn't change Sean's name, because let's face it, you'd know it was him anyway.

Sean has a friend, we'll call him Jethro. And Jethro has just begun seeing a new girl (no, I don't know her name). Well, once upon a time (a few weeks ago) in a land far far away (or 30 minutes anyway) new girlfriend's evil (or slightly misguided) ex-boyfriend comes to her house and begins making an ass of himself (as young boys often do). New girlfriend calls Jethro in tears. Unfortunately, Jethro is stuck in a land farther away, running errands with his father. What to do? Jethro calls in other heroes to save new girlfriend. Namely, Sean. Sean agrees that this is a problem and since another friend, we'll call him Roscoe (yes, I do know it's a silly name. pay attention, would you?), is already on his way to Sean's house, he phones him up and tells him they have a fair maiden to save so he should drive "double time." (Honestly, I don't know what driving "double time" means and I'm pretty sure I don't want to know.) But apparently, Roscoe is some kind of stunt driver akin to those in the Fast & Furious movies and he gets to our house much more quickly then normal (but, thankfully, all in one piece).

Now, we have two back up heroes who speed to the damsel in distress' house. They walk around the house and notice  two groups of people. One group includes our fair lady, her friends, and possibly siblings (these details are a little thin) and the other group includes young men set on douchebaggery, the evil ex and his minions. Our heroes assess the situation and then:

Sean: Are you Jethro's fair maiden?

Fair Maiden: Yes (this may or may not have been said with tearful hopefulness)

Sean: Okay. Then which one of you jerkwads (this may not be the exact wording) is starting trouble?

*No reply*

Sean: We can do this the easy way or we can do this the hard way.

*Evil ex is pushed forward by now uncomfortable henchmen*

Roscoe: We need to have a talk with you.

*Sean and Roscoe approach Evil ex*

Roscoe: Now this can go down one of two ways. The first way is you apologize and leave quietly. The second is much more violent and doesn't end well for you, except that you still apologize and leave.

*Evil ex blusters for a minute*
*Sean pulls Roscoe aside*

Sean: *speaking in very loud whisper intentionally trying to be overheard* I think we're going to have to bash some skulls.

Roscoe: I was hoping you'd say that...

Evil ex: Yeah, okay, whatever, we're leaving. Mumbled apology. *The villain and his minions retreat*

Fair Maiden's brother: Wow. Jethro really did send his friends.

*Our heroes begin walking back around the house to their vehicle*

Someone in crowd: Wait, good sirs, what are your names?

Sean: *thrown casually over his shoulder* Starsky and Hutch.


And that, dear friends, was your story for today. I'll try to be more frequent with my postings.

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The one where I have a nighttime visitor...

Okay, so remember the last post where I had to interrupt my movie and walk through the dark, scary woods dodging werewolves? Well, you'd think a girl would get a break after that, wouldn't you? Nope.

I finally make it back to the couch and turn my movie back on. I get settled in all comfy and start enjoying the movie. Then the weird noises start. Let's remember I'm already on edge. Well, a couple of times I thought I heard a door open, like one of the inside doors, maybe to Mike's office, and I figure it's just Sean getting home from Scouts. Except  I didn't hear his car pull up or the outer door open. And each time I get up to check--no one is there. So I tell myself it's just the cats pawing at the door to the downstairs because they don't like being shut down there at night.

Then I hear a scratching at the back door. And I figure it's just our outside cat, wanting to come in. So I try to ignore it. Then it becomes a frantic, scratching, loud noise. So I get off the couch and walk to the back door. The kitchen is pretty dark, only the light over the stove is on and it's dark outside. It sounds like the stupid cat got itself stuck between the screen and the door. So I open the door. (You were all screaming at your screens, yelling, "DON'T OPEN THE DOOR!" weren't you?)

 Well, I did. I looked down at the animal at my feet and, in the time it took me to realize that it was not my black and white cat, it took my measure and darted between my legs, racing through the kitchen.

"Holy shit! There's a raccoon in my house." That's what came out of my mouth. Luckily, the raccoon had pretty much trapped itself in the hallway. The outside door was shut, the downstairs door was shut, Mike's office door was shut, and I threw the baby gate up to keep it out of the kitchen. Because, obviously, that's going to stop it. So I hop the baby gate, walk into the dark hallway and flip on the lights. The raccoon has climbed the door frame so it's eye level with me and I'm only a foot away from it. I'm not sure who was more freaked out, me or the raccoon.

Me: Shhh. It's okay little guy (little guy? This thing was bigger than my biggest cat and he's huge.) I'm not going to hurt you, okay? Let's just figure out how we can get you back inside.

So I run to the phone.

Sean: Hello?

Me: Where are you?

Sean: On the gravel, almost home. Why?

Me: There's a raccoon in the house!

Him: Shit! Okay. I'm almost there. Stay away from it, those things are vicious.

Me: I've got it trapped in the hallway.

So he hangs up. I go into the kitchen to look for some food and grab a piece of cheese. (Don't even ask why that was what I grabbed) Visions of the scene in ET where they lure him inside with Reese's Pieces float through my mind. (And why don't I have Reese's Pieces just lying around?) I take the cheese to the raccoon and kind of wave it in front of him. Then I tear it into pieces and make a trail from where he is around the corner and to Mike's office, thinking if I get him that far I can open the door and shoo him out. Then I climb up on Mike's desk to wait. No movement from the raccoon.

Sean comes busting through the door and says,

Sean: Where is it?

Me: around the corner on top of the door frame.

Sean: Do you know how it got in?

Me: Um. Well, yeah. It knocked, and I let it in.

Sean: *giving me his patented "you're the stupidest person on the face of the planet look"* You let it in?

Me: Um. Yeah. I thought it was the cat.

Sean: It doesn't look anything like the cat.

Me: It was dark!

So he starts to walk around the corner.

Sean: Holy hell, what happened to your cheese? It's all over the place!

Me: I was trying to lure the raccoon.

Sean: With cheese?

Me: It's in the rodent family, right?

*again with the look*

Sean: Get in the kitchen.

He opens both doors to Mike's office. And gets a broom from my pantry. I hop the baby gate into the kitchen.

Me: What are you going to do?

Sean: I'm going to knock it off the door frame and chase it outside.

Me: You can't knock it down! It'll get hurt.

Sean: No it won't. They're like cats, it'll land on it's feet.

And then he yells, "HUZZAH!" And he knocks down the raccoon, chases it through Mike's office with the broom, hitting it in the butt, and onto the steps, where he does some crazy victory dance.

Me: Well, I don't think we have to worry about him coming back. He's probably telling all his buddies not to go to the big house. That crazy lady tried to feed him cheese.

Sean: No. Now it's going to be like a right of passage for all the teenage raccoons. Dare you to go up to the house and scratch at the door! And then they'll run away.

Me: F*ck. I'll constantly be opening the door and nothing will be there.

The movie? Oh yeah. I finished it the next day. And while this happening was hilarious, the raccoon party on my deck the next night was not. They dug through all of my pots and threw dirt everywhere. Thankfully, I'm such a procrastinator that I hadn't even planted anything yet. (Go me!) They also managed to knock over a garbage can and get the garbage everywhere. So I had to go get a tough one, with a strong lid and bungee cords to hold it down. And I'll fix their "pot" parties. I've got a topsy turvy planter. Take that, raccoons!

Moral of the story? That's not always opportunity knocking on your door. Sometimes it's local wildlife.


♥Spot

The one where I set the toaster on fire...

So I was going to go with Lu's plan to save the economy, but then we had a toaster catastrophe. And me blogging about it might save lives. Which would make me a hero. And heroes are awesome. Which makes me = awesome.

It started out like a typical Friday morning. I got up, stumbled to the kitchen for some coffee. I decided to eat some raspberry pop-tarts. I'd actually bought them for CJ's visit because he really likes raspberry pop-tarts, but then he didn't eat any while he was here, so I thought I would. Well, turns out they were the last two in the box. Who ate them, you ask. I'll give you two guesses and his name starts with "M" and ends with "ike." I was glad I was going to at least get these ones since after that they'd be all gone.

So I put the pop-tarts in the toaster and pushed down the little knob thingy that drops them down in there and causes the wires to heat up. (Does anyone even know what that knob thingy is called??) And then I went into the living room to talk to Sean because he'd gotten home after I fell asleep the night before. I figured I'd hear the toaster pop back up. So we talked. And after a while I realized that the toaster was taking a really long time to warm up two pop-tarts, so I walked around the corner into the kitchen.

There was smoke rolling out of the toaster. I knew my pop-tarts were probably black and I was slightly annoyed. But as I got closer to the counter, flames started to shoot out of the toaster. Did I mention that the toaster was sitting under my wooden cabinets?! I'm not going to lie- I started freaking out. I rushed over. I knew I couldn't just dump water on it (because toasters are electrical appliances, duh). So I wanted to unplug it, but I couldn't remember which cord went to the toaster and which went to the coffee pot beside it. So I freaked a little. And then I hollered.

Me: Sean!! The toaster is on fire! Help!

Lu: *walking down the hallway, sees the kitchen* Holy shit! The toaster's really on fire!

Me: That's what I said!

Sean: *strolling leisurely (and I do mean leisurely) into the kitchen* Wow. The toaster is on fire.

Me: Did you think I was making it up?!

Sean: Unplug it.

Me: *yanking out both plugs, because really, why does it matter if I unplug the coffee pot too?*

Sean: *picks up the flaming toaster* I'm gonna need you to get the door. *I open the door and he walks out onto the deck, down the stairs and sets the flaming toaster in the wet grass calm as can be* I'm going to need a glass of water.

Me: *running back inside for water. I come back out and he's casually lighting his cigarette off the flames still pouring out of the toaster* Here!

End of story: He dumps water on the toaster and the fire is put out. My poor pop-tarts (the last ones of their kind) are lumps of charcoal, not to mention soaking wet.

When I asked both kids about their startling lack of urgency when I shouted, "the toaster's on fire," they told me they figured maybe a crumb in the bottom was smoking, but that they didn't really expect flames. Apparently, the panic in my voice wasn't enough of a clue.

In case you're wondering, the cabinets were fine. Not even a burn mark or anything on the underside. Sean's calm demeanor and quick thinking saved the day. And the smoke wasn't that hard to get out of the house.

And we do have a fire extinguisher in our house. It was conveniently located about two feet from the flaming toaster, in the pantry. If the cabinets had caught fire we would have been forced to use it, but those things are messy and slightly toxic. I'm glad it didn't come to that.

Did I mention my house has wooden siding? Did I mention that I'm petrified of fire? (I'm going to blame villagers with flaming torches and pitchforks in a past life for that one.) So it was a mere toaster catastrophe, but it could have been worse.

Do you know what it says on the Pop-Tarts website in big bold red letters? This:
Due to possible risk of fire, never leave your toasting appliance or microwave unattended

Who knew?! Well, now we all do.

♥Spot