This Tin Foil Hat is Squooshing My Brains

I was pondering my retirement account the other day.  *sigh* Is it only me or does anyone else feel like finding a Master-of-the-Universe, Wall Street-working, TARP-taking, Lamborghini-driving-lunkhead and commit some sort of homicide?  


My mom and dad are all worried about me since I am single again, so I was trying to make them feel better.  You know, sometimes bad ideas should really announce themselves better.  Opportunity knocks but bad ideas just invite themselves in and make themselves at home.


I love financial blogs.  I must be into S&M.  My favorite is Calculated Risk because the people who comment are hilarious and smart. Half the time I have no idea what they are talking about. I can read the words and I assume they have meaning because other people jump in and comment, but I'm not sure what it all means. 


For example:  "At September 30, 2008, all of the trust preferred CDO securities were still investment grade rated, were paying as agreed with no shortfall in principal or interest payments, and were determined not to involve other-than-temporary impairment ("OTTI"). During the fourth quarter of 2008, factors outside the Company's control impacted the fair value of these securities and will continue to do so, including but not limited to: guidance on fair value accounting, issuer credit deterioration, issuer deferral and default rates, potential failure or government seizure of underlying financial institutions, sksodhei49dkdks....zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz."

At other times, they are hilarious and have the funniest links to YouTube videos. 


But the bottom line (get it, an accounting joke. Okay, shutting up now) is that the s*^t has yet to hit the fan as far as the commenters are concerned and unfortunately they have been right on so many things for years.  


So, I have been trying on my tin foil hat and wondering how I should prepare. Do you remember the story, "If You Give a Mouse a Cookie?" You invite the mouse in for a cookie, which is fairly insane, most rodents are quite good at finding your cookie supply on their own, and they will want a glass of milk?  I have a feeling if I start thinking about all hell breaking loose, I might get carried away. 


I figure a case of Jack Daniels, couple of cases of diet soda, maybe some cheese doodles, and I'm set. You know, the world ends on December 12, 2012 anyway? They made a movie about it and everything.


What do you think? Any ideas would be appreciated. Talk loudly though...my tin foil hat blocks sound.

What's That in the Road, A Head?

So I kicked butt this week and I did a streaking on the football field. No, really, that's me. Well, of course, just the head part. I like that the guy chasing me, it looks like he wants to grab a little something.

Thanks for the great picture, L. I did tell her though that even I would not wear black socks with tennis shoes. Speaking of being well dressed, go check out her new blog design~! Tampons & Chocolate rocks thanks to Mary at Blog Rock. Get ready, Mary, I'm next.

My fantasy football team, the NanoBots, beat Mr. Bill, L's hubby and was he mad~! HAHAHA.

See, I'm not a total putz so far this year. I won!!! Pay up sucka. I have to gloat now...this may be the last time I win.

The Balls in the Iron Mask

Teddy Bear: Do you know it's a myth that if testicles get too hot they produce less sperm. No need to wear boxers instead of tighty whiteys.


Me: Really? How did they test that hypothesis?


Teddy Bear: Well, they put the balls in metal for like 48 hours and then they tested sperm count before and after.

Me: *mouth hanging open* They put some guys' balls in an iron mask? Good lord.


Killdozer: I want to know how to get that kind of job.

That is the kind of conversation I have in my house when you watch "The Big Bang Theory."

Happy Feet

Ummmm...not sure I would call these happy feet.




But really I did this leading to this video...



Wasn't that exciting? 

Weren't you just waiting with bated breath for him to start his strip tease? Holy schmoly. 

And to think I took dancing lessons when my oldest daughter got married so I would not look like a Frankenstein after smoking a hookah pipe full of happy tobaccy. My sister-in-law is a dancing fiend and she dragged me out there and we danced all night long. 

Are you Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers? My dad and mom are. My dad is so good he can take anyone on the dance floor and make them look good. 


I am trying to find pictures of my daughter's wedding to post. But no dancing pictures. I look like Mumbles dancing in the cartoon "Happy Feet." Only not so cuddly and cute.

When All Else Fails, Dust with a Mouse Butt

Another week at Casa de Hermit. I have to clean the house....again. This is getting ridiculous. Nephew is turning 13 tomorrow. A teenager.  Family coming to stay with me. Tried to pick up clutter and ended up dragging the mouse booty across my mantel when I was trying to pick him up. I figured since he was doing such a bang up job, I let his sorry butt finish the job.


But now I get to watch my know-it-all brother cope. I remember his words of wisdom when my oldest was in high school and I had just chaperoned my first high school dance (and last). I was telling him how the kids bunch up to hide what is going on in the middle, but there were kids "dancing" on the outside and I'm not sure what you would call it other than humping but there it is. Campus supervisors have to be the most underpaid people on the planet. (And sometimes the crabbiest people I have ever met. Go figure.) They go wading into the middle and break it up...whatever it is. They are like cops when it comes to story telling.


What caught my eyes? Girl and guy dancing, well, I guess you call it dancing. And behind the girl was another guy grinding on her and behind the guy dancing was another girl grinding on him. A veritable choo choo train of teenage MTV porn. If you weren't hot and bothered before that, that cinched the deal. Tila Tequila in action. I wish someone had gotten a picture of all the newbie parents chaperoning. I'm sure we would have fit right in a yokel family picture.


My 14-year-old daughter is going to school here?!!! His comment to me? Well, better they do it there than somewhere else. What part of moronic did he not get? Where does he think they were going after the dance? To confession? Yes, I got my lesson in teenage madness much sooner than I anticipated. 

It is amazing what you learn when you have to. I wish I had learned sooner that humor is the best thing you have going for you with your kids. And they really do want some rules. And listening. Listening. Listening. 

Ah, me. I always said that the only thing holding up my kid's halo was her horns.


I also learned to bite my tongue. Maybe that's why I blog now. No one understands me when I talk now. 


I can't wait to tease my nephew tomorrow. Do you think my brother would appreciate a gift of condoms? Go Trojans! Which reminds me...I am pretty much sucking at Fantasy Football.

The Ten Things My Muse Hates About Me

The lovely Tetanus Tomato awarded me the "Honest Scrap" award~!  I have to write 10 things about me. Wait. I just checked her blog. It has to be ten HONEST things about me. Honest?  I had to call on my muse for this one but since my Book Babe buddy, Thia Karen, gave me a shiny new cocktail shaker and a new bottle of Jack, my muse is inebriated. I figure I'm lucky to have a muse altogether. It is probably like the angel in It's A Wonderful Life. You know, trying to earn his muse wings so he can go to a real writer. 


I wish I knew what my muse looks like. I know it's a guy though. I imagine him as James Belushi.


On to the ten things about me...honest things about me....


1.   I think I'm pretty smart.  

You know, if eye rolling were an Olympic sport, my muse would get a gold medal and kick Michael Phelps' ass.


What? Do you have something to say? 


You said you were going to be honest. Should we tell these fine people how you really got into the honors program in high school? 


Go away. Your drink is looking a little watery. 


Tut. Tut. Those scantron tests are so pretty, aren't they? Especially when you fill in all those cute little bubbles with a pretty pattern. What is you did? Wasn't ABCD, then DCBA, and then...


Shut up. Don't you have a sonnet to inspire someone with? Oh, wait. You're stuck with me until you fix me up. Perhaps you should cheat. Does that ringing the bell thing work for muses, too? Maybe every time someone hits enter, a muse gets his wings and moves on. 


Such sarcasm...those gray cells must be getting old and tired. Boy, you were sure surprised when you got in that program. 


Can we go on to number 2 now?


2.  I wanna be a geek.


Wanna be? 


Hey, there must have been a good reason The Powers That Be put you with me, buddy.

3.  I didn't dust my living room coffee table for a whole year. 

That was so inspirational, too.

Inspirational? Did it remind you of a dear departed one? 

Oooohh...testy, testy. No, I just love stick figures. Cezanne tended to over your head. I figure you would think of it like an Etch-A-Sketch. You got some of your best ideas from those dust stick figures.

4.  My daughter wanted me to go on the show "How Do I Look?" You know, where you dress really stupid and they tear you apart, make fun of you, then give you $5000 for a new wardrobe. 


Ha, ha. My best inspiration yet. Yep, that was a good one.


YOU put her up to that? Did you also make her say it in front Killdozer? That was just mean. 


She had to get even for you embarrassing her when you were talking sex with your friends in front of them.


*sigh* I guess turnabout is fair play. 

5.   I love music but can never remember who sings what or the names of the songs....nothing. 

Teddy Bear loves to make fun of you. Didn't you just ask her who Liv Tyler's dad was? HAHAHA. She loved that one. 

So sue me. Metallica, right? 

Wait till I tell her that one. You confused Aerosmith with Metallica. You are going to lose all iTune privileges forever. 


She better be careful. I pay for most of her music.

6.  I love old musicals.

Wait, I know the perfect song, "Puzzlement." Good one, right? 

I really disliked West Side Story though. 

What?! You're not a Jet all the way? How the heck did I end up with you again?

You got hammered one day and they pushed you to the curb....where I picked you up. You were so cute with your little muse blankie. I don't think your fellow muses like you very much though. They had painted you kind of funny. 

 

7.  I am looking forward to the new Boondock Saints movie. 

You just want to drool. 

And your point is?  

8.  I love reading financial and political blogs. 

*yawn*

Are you trying out for the bass mouth fish award? I hear Kanye West needs a side kick. 

Are you kidding? His muse is the bomb...a legend. 


A legend? How can he possibly be a legend.


His muse works backwards...he inspires others. I mean, you loved that Fish Dicks South Park episode, right? Funny stuff. I hear Taylor Swift loves him. 


9.  I have an irrational fear of buttons. The thought of someone plunging their hand into a jar full of buttons gives me the creeps. 


Buttons? Buttons? Sorry, sorry. Zipping my lips now. 


10.  I love getting awards. 


Where are you going? You aren't done inspiring me yet.



Thank you Tetanus Tomato...that was fun. I have to pass this on to other bloggers, but I think every blogger I know has one.  I only follow the best you know. But here goes...


Thia Karen....my Book Babe buddy with the most joyous and heartfelt blog around 


Tampons and Chocolate....when she blogs she is hilarious. You need to read her~!


The Doibie Journal....she is getting her first book published, so she has not written in awhile, but she is the best.

Life Right Now...fabulous writing, the best Laker sports stuff I've ever read, loves her prayer and her dog~! 



Here's to Honesty~!

Beer Pong Noob

See more funny videos and funny pictures at CollegeHumor.

I played my first game of beer pong last night...

Got chased down by the bouncer at a new restaurant in town...



A friend of L's got banished from the new restaurant in town...FOREVER...


Met the new owner of the Gambling Cowboy...


And just generally had a great birthday yesterday. Yes, my b'day is 9/11. 


How do you turn 52 and have that be your first game of beer pong? Not only is it my first game, I played it at my BFF's house (who just happens to be out of town with hubby) with her kids, Ruthless and Princess. Ruthless is very nice to this old lady. He and his friends sit and shoot the shit with me and I don't feel like a total old fart dufus. (Teddy Bear says I am though.) 


L had picked me up for dinner and we picked up her friend A. How to describe A? Petite, slim, double D's. Yes, that will do. A 42-year-old grandma. She was already drinking wine when we picked her up and was wobbling around on her stiletto heels. She wanted to bring the glass of wine with her but I said I'm pretty sure that is frowned upon. She had a large Starbucks cup sitting there, so she pours her wine into that and it looks like their coffee, and off she goes. I'm not sure L realized what was in the cup. 


Off to new restaurant in town. In Old Town. Pretty place, kinda snooty. Total geezer pick up joint. We went into the bar which was all tricked out with little low tables, round hidden corners with soft bench like couches that circled around the little tables and semi-circle ottomans. They had fabric ceiling decorations that looked like a sphincter. The only table available is smack dab in the middle of the room. The bar is packed but no one is sitting there, there is a black cloth covering a piece of equipment that is sitting on this table. Does not stop A who picks it up and moves it to the ottoman and we sit down. Poor guy comes racing up to rescue his projector but A is a master flirt and we get to stay. L orders wine, Pinot Noir, Pinot Grigio, Pinot Butter, I'm not sure. It's red wine and it all tastes like vinegar to me. The prices are outrageous, so we decide to walk across the street to another new restaurant. L pours her wine in A's Starbucks cup, I finish my Jack and coke, pay and skedaddle. 


As we are leaving, a big bouncer guy tells us, "Thanks for visiting and come back soon." How nice. This old lady is a sucker for manners. We cross the street with A wobbling along. (She had a broken pinkie toe. Did I forget to mention that?) L and I are walking way ahead of A when we hear running and a man shouting. I turn around to see what the heck. Big bouncer guy has caught up with A and told her he has to take her drink and that what she did was illegal. (This not being Vegas, you can't walk around with alcohol. Who knew?) I am pretending I have no idea who she is. I'm not a party animal. I don't go bar hopping to pick up men. He gets all serious on her ass and he tells her something but by this point I have walked way ahead. When she finally catches up with us, she tells us he has banished her from the new restaurant...forever. 


We go to the Gambling Cowboy where A knows everyone except for the new owner. L and I are starving. We meet the new owner. Nice man. Both L and A are very nice looking, so he spends quite a bit of time with us. I look like a mom. *sigh* 


I call Ruthless to see if his fiesta is still going on at BFF's house and he says yes and to come on over. 


Ruthless has some great friends, Danny Boy and Mike, who were there and because they know I have never played and want to learn to play, we team up to play beer pong. Mike and Ruthless are on one team and Danny Boy and I are on another. To see who goes first, you take turns throwing the ping pong ball into the cups full of beer set up like this picture. 

 

But you have to look into the eyes of the person opposite you and not look at the cups. Mike starts to do Marty Feldman eyes, I'm cracking up, throw the ball and...splash...right into the cup. The guys are screaming with laughter. I showed them. Right? Right?

We throw our two balls across the table trying to land in their cups of beer and we miss. Ruthless picks up the ball, carefully aims, calculates and throws and lands the ball in one of our cups. Oh no. What does that mean? Danny says don't worry, wait for Mike to throw. Well, of course, he puts that damn little ping pong ball into one of our cups and we now have to drink the beer that is in those cups. Uh oh. Hand-eye coordination is just not my strong suit. I could aim, ponder, plan the perfect trajectory, but as soon as I throw, the ball heads off into another orbit. 

But it came down to one cup to one cup...yes, it did. And I put that dang little ping pong ball into 4 cups. They ended up winning, but I thought that was pretty good for my first game. You know what was fascinating to me was watching some of the other kids shotgun beer. I don't think I can spill a beer as fast as they were shotgunning them. 

Being the mom that I am, I'm glad the kids were crashing at Ruthless' place and we managed to lose A somehow. (I felt like we were acting out the movie "The Hangover.") She got her panties in a bunch because we were not going to the Stampede to play pool and ride the bull and she called a friend to pick her up. Sheesh. It felt like high school. 

But I want BFF to know when she comes back and reads this post, her house was fine, the dogs were good, and her yard will probably be buried in 2 foot of beer cans by the time she gets home.