Barfight Sarah

My co-worker, who enjoys regaling us with tales of her "redneck" family, has a cousin whose nickname is "Barfight Sarah."

Her nose was broken during a tavern brawl, but she was too drunk to go to the hospital and have it set. Her nose healed in a crooked shape, and she had to get plastic surgery to fix it.

Barfight Sarah is currently pregnant with her second child during her first year of marriage to a much younger man that the family suspects is a drug dealer.

Kids, this is why you shouldn't drink.

Scapel License

Overheard:

Idiot 1: "It's so not fair that it's so hard to get into med school!"

Idiot 2: "I know! There are probably lots of people that really want to go but can't get in because they have bad grades."

Idiot 1: "Yeah, like there are people I've met that maybe aren't that smart, but they're really caring and I think they would still make good doctors."

Idiot 2: "It's just as important to have a really nice personality. I wish those people got a chance, too."


No thank you. If you failed biology I don't want you operating on me.

Panic in the Kitchen

I have a classmate who is a man of intimidating size, but is a complete sissy.

He was cutting meat in his kitchen when he saw a large cockroach. His reaction was to run screaming out of his home while still clutching the utensil he had in his hand.

I think his neighbors were a bit nervous about seeing a 300 pound man shrieking and waving a knife.

When French Nails Go Wrong

I was sitting on the bus, staring at the floor, when I noticed my neighbor had the most incredible case of toe fungus ever. I wondered why she would even wear open-toed shoes out in public before the infection was cleared up by massive doses of medication.

Then I realized that she had a French manicure, but instead of having the usual white tips, asked for yellow tips.

Oy. She probably thought it would be unusual and attention-getting.

Well, it worked.

The Obvious Solution

I used to work as a lab manager at a previous job. I think the building manager in that facility misses me.

He sent an email telling me that someone at my old lab called him in to look a clogged drain. When he got there, that person showed him a sink with several inches of murky water in it.

The building manager reached in and pulled out a drain plug.

I don't think he's very impressed with my replacement.

Mullet King

Today I saw a man with awesome hair. It was the most memorable specimen of a mullet I had ever seen. It was 80's hair band meets afro meets boy band grease mess.

It was not like those limp, weak mullets you sometimes see on guys with less ambitious hairdos. Oh no, this was a full, thick, luxurious mane of hair. It was long, teased and puffed, with a bouffant on the top.

In addition, the whole thing was slicked with hair gel.

Short Man Wearing a Suit, I applaud you. It takes a special brand of ego to walk out the door every morning with hair like that and think, "I look good."

"Clever" Evaluations

As part of my job for the educational nonprofit, I score evaluations from students that use our services.

Part of the form asks them to indicate their gender and race. Some kids apparently don't know what "Caucasian" means, and write down "White" in the line reserved for "Other." One student emphatically wrote "Indian. We are NOT Asian!"

Some try to be clever and fill in the blank with "Alien-robo-pirate," "Mongo," "Martian" and "Irish Wookie." (Yes, these are real examples I have seen).

One particularly cheeky child wrote this note in the "Additional Comments" section recently:

"My teacher says your materials are ridiculously expensive. Also, we are the fertile minds of your future profits. =) Do you enjoy your job, by the way? Reading evaluations all day. How much do you get paid for it? Call me babe. 1-900-888-6969."

Definitely a fertile mind there.

Um, Not Sure You Get It . . .

Overheard on the bus, about 8:30 AM:

Guy: "Where are you going?"
Girl: "Physics class. I failed it so I have to take it over the summer."
Guy: "Oh that sucks."
Girl: "The lecture started at 8, but I already took the class so I know the stuff, you know?"

Home Invasion Part 2

Dear Little Deceased Animal,

Thanks to you, I learned two things.

1. It costs $165 to hire a man to hunt around in your attic for a furry corpse.
2. You are one tough little bugger.

Two days after I smelled your presence, I finally got someone to search for you. The exterminator said there were was a trap in the attic with blood and fur on it.

After being mortally wounded, you managed to claw your way out of the rat trap and escape into a hiding place.

You were so good at burrowing into the walls, the exterminator couldn't find you.

He had to tell me, "Don't worry, the smell goes away when it finishes decomposing."

Most impressive, Little Deceased Animal.

Sincerely,
The Tenant

Home Invasion

Dear Little Deceased Animal,

As a wild creature, I cannot fathom why you felt the need to run away from the lovely outdoors, and break into my house while I was away, but I appreciate the effort it took to use your sharp little teeth and claws to chew your way in.

I am also touched that you decided my home would make a wonderful final resting place for your little bloated corpse. Instead of dying in the wild, you decided that a suburban attic would be more befitting.

I think it was also quite considerate of you to pick a 94 degree day to die. I woke up this morning, thinking it was going to be an ordinary day in my ordinary-smelling house, but when I came home from school you had perfumed the air with the reek of death.

Perhaps you didn't intend it, but I couldn't help but notice that special touch: I came home later than usual today, after the pest control people had already stopped answering their phones. Also, I had a guest over.

Therefore, as I try to sleep tonight, I will dream of you, little dead animal, and feel ambivalent about whether I am glad or not that you're dead.

With Appropriate Affection,

The Tenant

It Doesn't Help

There are two types of people: Those who love Crocs, and those who think that the plastic clogs are ugly.

I admit, I'm in the second camp and therefore subject to bias, but for the love of mac and cheese, how does one explain the travesty of black clogs with rhinestones? (Yes, I did see someone wearing a pair like that today).

Sparkly bits. On clogs.

Sorry, they're still hideous rubber shoes with giant ventilation holes, whether you attack them with a Bedazzler or not.

If you're wearing them solely for comfort reasons, why draw attention to them by blinding me with tawdry little stones?

Tacky Tattoo

I had to stare for a moment to make sure what I was seeing was real, but indeed, I saw a woman with "SEX" tattooed onto her right shoulder blade. Underneath it was some type of symbol that looked like a glass patio table.

I have no idea what her motivation was, but it brings new meaning to the phrase "tramp stamp" doesn't it?

Political Graffiti

In a bathroom stall on campus, on the back of a door:
"Vote for Obama!"

Underneath, in different handwriting:
"Oh my god! I've been wondering who to vote for. Thank you, oh wise and omnipotent bathroom graffiti!"

Wedding Dress of Doom

Holy Crayola, when I saw this bride I thought her billowing gown looked like a nuclear mushroom cloud.

Note to brides: When you need to crawl into your limo on your stomach, and lie on the floor, your gown is TOO DAMN BIG.

And also, if you plan to use a spray-tanner, go to a professional tanning salon. Do not attack your face with a can of Instant-Oompa-Loompa. You'll look like this.

I'm afraid her wedding party isn't dressed much better either.

I've decided that the neon pink and green nuptials I blogged about before no longer constitute the tackiest wedding ever.

Warning Signs That a Party is Bad

My friend was invited to a party and decided to bring me with her. We had other plans so we arrived rather late, just to drop in and say hello.

Sign #1 that a party is bad:
By the time we arrived, there was one female left at the party.

Sign #2:
The lone female had to be at the party, because she lived at the house where it was being held.

Sign #3:
Before we went in my friend warned me not to talk to "Dirk," who had a habit of telling disgusting stories. I was to recognize him as the "creepy and unattractive" guy.

Sign #4:
I walked in and thought, "Which creepy and unattractive guy?"

I know that sounds horrible, but please wait to judge me. This is what I saw:

Sign #5: A guy picking at his feet.
Sign #6: A man in dirty sweatpants and a torn t-shirt, afflicted with some sort of unpleasant odor.
Sign #7: A gentleman with huge (4 inch) scabs on his elbows and either 2 black eyes or really severe sleep deprivation.
Sign #8: An emaciated fellow with poorly groomed facial hair, who smelled of cigarettes.
Sign #9: A greasy-haired individual who spoke fondly of Klingon weddings.

I am accustomed to all sorts of people, and have many friends others would consider "odd." I can tolerate weirdness or even poor social skills but am I a snob for expecting someone to practice general hygiene? Especially in the presence of females?

By the way, I found out later that "Dirk" was the guy picking at his feet.

Neon Wedding

My friend was hired to make custom pillows and drapes for a wedding. She showed me the fabric, which made me cringe.

The first fabric was HOT PINK with a raised swirl pattern. (My friend called it "Hello Kitty fingerprints"). The material felt odd to the touch, like some combination of acrylic and paper.

I was in awe that someone over the age of 13 would use those at all, much less at a wedding.

Then my friend showed me some furry, neon green fabric destined to become pillows for the same wedding. Imagine if someone had kidnapped a group of Sesame Street characters, spilled radioactive waste on them, and skinned the especially shaggy ones. Voila, pillow shams.

I was speechless, but that was not the end. Visualize chartreuse satin napkins with hot pink rhinestones. Also, think about bright yellow and orange ottoman covers.

I think the wedding hall will look like they hired a Technicolor clown to toss his blindingly bright cookies all over the venue.

What surprised me the most was hearing that the wedding coordinator they were using refused to accept any weddings with budgets less than $100,000.

When your wedding costs about the same as the gross national product of a fourth-world country, maybe you should hire a coordinator who can convince you to not take acid when planning your wedding.

An Alternate Use for Bras

The most important thing my high school chemistry teacher taught me was to wear sunblock. She was a fitness nut who ran to school everyday in lieu of driving. She had leathery, patchy skin that made her look at least 10 years older than she really was.

However, the most memorable thing about my teacher was that each day she came to school wearing running shorts and a sports bra with a CD player shoved down the front.

Yes, inside the bra. Next to her . . . um, skin.

Sure, this was in ye olden days before iPods and other compact music players but for the love of milk and cheese, was there really no better place to put a 6-inch wide piece of electronic equipment than down the front of a brightly colored spandex bra?

So now you know, your sports bra can double as a music sling.

Leather Pants at 2 PM

I once ran into an acquaintance at a bus stop. He was wearing black leather pants and a mesh shirt, and his hair was spiked with a significant gob of gel. It was early in the afternoon, which seemed a little early to be decked out in club gear.

I asked him "Where are you going?"

He replied, "Job interview."

"As what?" (Male stripper? Bus boy at a gay dance club?)

He explained he was on the way to apply for a job at a "trendy" clothing store.

"Oh. That makes more sense."

I still think the outfit was overkill.