Showing posts with label crazy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label crazy. Show all posts

Friday, August 13, 2010

Queen of the crazies

What exactly is it about me that attracts the craziest mother fuckers in the state? The baking aisle trash talker was one thing, but sporting a buddah belly has brought it to a whole new level.

During my preggo pics photo session there were a couple of bizarre encounters, which clearly point out what a nice area of town I live in.

We were on the last few pictures when these 2 "gentleman" were walking by and threw out a "Hey, Cutie!" Really? With my husband standing right there? If your dating strategy is to hit on knocked up married women, I think you need to rethink your approach. I'm just sayin'.

Not even 30 seconds after that. This drunk old hobo walked up to up and said in his slurry, hard to decipher, speech: "I juuusssttt want to telllll youuuu, what you're doing here is juuuusssst beeeeaaauuuutiiiful." And then he dropped dead of alcohol poisening. Thanks for the compliment of my life though. He was sweet, even if he wreaked of cheap vodka (which I thought about licking out of the inside of his mouth. It's been 8 months peeps, I could use a cocktail. Don't judge me. I thought better of it though when I saw syringes falling out of his pockets. I'm guessing those aren't for PIO injections? Just sayin.)

And yesterday, I left work at 2:30 to put my feet up. (Dr. POC finally reduced me to 6 hours a day, because of swelling/pitting. Google that shit. I dare you. It will make you fear the reaper) At 7:30 at a ripe 9 months pregnant, I decide to take my sweet girl, Roxy, for a little walk around the block since the weather had cooled down.
I was on the corner of a busier street when I noticed a little 5 pound yapper come running like a bat out of hell from a couple of houses down. The owners apparently didn’t notice that it had gotten away.

Picture this: 9 months pregnant woman, 65 lb boxer, and 5 lb yappy (who is trying to kill Roxy) in the middle of said busy street. Cars coming from both directions, honking. Chaos ensues trying to wrangle my dog and keep yappy from getting run over.

I get everyone out of the street when the owner (2 houses down) finally notices that his dog took off. He calls him, dog runs home. I shout at him that it might be a good idea to put his dog on a leash. He does not come over to see if 9 months pregnant woman that just saved his dogs life is okay.

I walk across the street to catch my breath and continue on the way home when woman owner of the dog decides it would be a good idea to cross the street to tell me that I “don’t have to be so rude about it.”
To which I inform her that I just saved her dog, myself, and my dog from being run over. She tells me to just let him get run over next time, and “kindness goes a long way.”

Right, because I wouldn’t know anything about kindness because I just saved your dog from being road kill. How about, “I’m so sorry, thank you so much for saving my dog, are you okay?”

And then I punched her in the face. And threw her into oncoming traffic. Your welcome lady.

I wish those were all the crazy stories I had for you. But no, there're more.

At work this week we got new computers, so our IT department was in house to help with questions, etc.

Me: (Minding own business, walking to my office)

Creepy IT guy: Excuse me, ma'am?

Me: Mm hm?

Creep: Um, you wouldn't happen to be pregnant would you?

Me: Actually, I was just on my way to the pharmacy to get the morning after pill.

Creep: Well, I had this button made up and I'd like you to have it.

Peeps, the button says on it, FREE HUG.

Really? I think I just got sexually harrassed.

Anyways, I have been officially named the Queen of the Crazies. I take much pride in the honor that has been bestowed upon me. I hope to represent the Crazies with as much flair as possible.

In other news, the bug's room is coming together. Still no name though.

Remind me next time to tell you about the birthing video we watched. I need another therapy session before I'll be ready to talk about it.

Tuesday, September 22, 2009

Bud Light Presents: Mr. Baking Aisle Trash Talker

Lately my blog material has been downright non existent. I’ve been thinking that I’ve been stuck in a funk and unable to see the world through my hilarious rose colored glasses. Things that would normally strike me as funny and blog worthy have come and gone without so much as a flinch.

I don’t know if it has to do with the 6 month anniversary of the loss, another failed month, or the false hope that was built up last month. Whatever the reason, maybe a combination of the three, I don’t think it matters.

I think there is light at the end of the tunnel. I believe the fog is lifting. Maybe we are making forward motion. Just maybe.

Yesterday I went to the grocery store by my work to pick up a few things for dinner (holy hot mother of god best shepherds pie recipe eva).

I hate going to this grocery store because it’s not my regular. I don’t know where anything is. It’s a 45 minute ordeal to try to find cheese and gravy (both delicious ingredients to my wanna smack myself good shepherds pie).

Visualize this:

I am coming out of the baking aisle, as another gentleman is coming into the baking aisle. In an effort not to do the right/left, left/right dance, I stop to allow him to go around me, right? I smile, and say, “I’m sorry, excuse me.”

After he walks by me I hear, “Excuse YOU!”

At this point I can’t believe what I’ve just heard and am nearly pissing my pants with laughter. I can’t wait to tell my coworkers about this. Excuse YOU! Lmao, what?!

Then, as I walk back by the aisle again, to go check out, I hear, “That’s right just KEEP ON WALKING!”

Uhm, do I know you? Did I tease you in high school or something?

I say, “EXCUSE me?!”

Crazy man says, “YOU HEARD ME!”

Oh no you di’int. Listen you crazy sonofabitch, you can’t just run around the grocery store telling people off!

But at this point I think, Wait… if this man is crazy enough to yell at complete stranger in the baking aisle, then what else is he capable of? Am I having an encounter with the un.abomber?

I decide to walk away when I hear him shouting at me 2 aisles over, “That’s right, you just KEEP ON WALKING.”

How is it that wherever I go the crazies just hone in on me? They must know I am one of them.

Bu.d L.ight Presents: Here’s to you Mr. Baking Aisle Trash Talker. I’m sorry that your life sucks so bad that you have to tell off a total stranger.

I am thankful that I am not yet that flavor of crazy.