Archive for the ‘ crazy shit ’ Category

So Lisa and I were shopping for new furniture for her because she knows there is nothing I like to do more than spend her money.  Her husband is a bit of a… dick when it comes to doing things like this with her and I am happy to step up.  Fun, fun, fun.  She doesn’t know it but I have been sneaking into her house and slowly destroying the couch and chairs that we went out and purchased YEEEEEEEARS ago so that we could do this again.

Boredom is a dangerous thing for me.

There have been many more purchases in those years.  We have a history of making some major purchases together and she and her husband and John and I also have a history of getting a bit sloppy from margaritas and ending up going shopping for computers and another time for new cars.  The scary thing is, purchases were made both times.

So we hit the bars furniture stores and it all started innocently enough.  First stop, Bel Furniture and we took a gander at all the wild, ostentatious, only to be seen in the playboy mansion, flashy-trashy furniture to be had.  We had quite a time.  There was much giggling and squealing to be had.  Lisa posed for a few pics with her new… friend.


There was a lot of glancing around for anyone watching us…  We thought we were sneaky… We noticed the security cameras as we were leaving…


Somebody got to watch that, (if they were smart), and we probably made their day.


You can’t really tell in the picture, but I was tossing around my patented “come hither” look, terrified an innocent bystander would see it and jump me.

Er, innocent bystander…. yeah, now I feel the need to apologize to you.

After making complaints about the mattress, we moved on.


Needless to say, we purchased nothing here.  But we had a high time “shopping”!  On to Dillard’s, The Room Store, and Lazyboy Furniture.

Lisa ended up getting a black leather couch that has recliners built in and she says is perfect.  Along with a new chair for the husband.  I wouldn’t know if it’s perfect or not because for the first time EVER she chose to purchase something hideous and I, like a good friend(?), stood there and let her, (EVEN THOUGH I TOLD HER IT WAS BUTT UGLY), and then when she went back with her man, she changed her mind and told me she didn’t get the “80’s looking couch” even though it was sooooo comfortable.

Thank God.

So she went ahead and picked out something different while she was there with her husband, of all people, and I have no idea if this is going to turn out to be an acceptable piece of furniture or not.  And I bet she’s not even sleeping nights knowing she made a major furniture purchase without me.


Last night I was conversing with Witchypoo via emails and was just catching her up to what all was going on.  You know, up to the minute reporting, here at KMEX.   Heh.  OH! or maybe, KLOO, that sounds apt.   KPOT?  No, that sounds like I gots weed here.  I am sure my posts would be more interesting if that was the case.

KPOO!  That may have to be the call letters for my station!  KPOO!  I love it.  …, what was I talking about?  Oh yeah!  Witchypoo threw up an email chat conversation between she and I over at Kelley’s place when she was guest blogging and while we were chatting last night she said I definitely need to blog about what was going on then.

Here is my stab at copying and pasting the convo along with the color coded thingy so you know that it’s me talking when it’s blue and Witchypoo the plain text.  (Notice, that I will do a better job at getting the colors right than she did.)


Did I tell you last night that the snake had mites?  She did.  I bathed her in olive oil and then wiped her clean and they all appeared to fall off.  There weren’t too many.  I blame that damn pet shop Kee was buying the “sanitary” mice from.

Yeah, but will snakeypoo eat frozen mice?

Kee says she doesn’t want to feed her frozen cause it’s “not as nutritional”.  I am gonna have to google it and find me some reliable info on the whole thing.

Well, then, she had best be prepared to perform the olive oil snakey hand job.

Heh.  That has me giggling.  And thinking, “EEEWWWWWWW!” at the same time.

I know. It’s a gift.

Nurse was here and just left.  New catheter for H.  Doesn’t seem to be working at this point.  We will see.  I have a special picture for you of what I saw when I came in here to sit down at the pooter and try to work on my post some more.  Oh, and talk to you via email of course.  I will send it.

Uh oh!

Keelan feeds snake in a big plastic tote, to “not confuse it about what is food and what is not…” or some such shit.  She does this in her room.  Upstairs.  Not downstairs.  Not downstairs in my chair where I sit and do pooter things.  Yet, this is what I found.  A snake that’s not hungry and a mouse that’s more than a little stupid.  Maybe the snake just doesn’t like to eat things that are that stupid…?


DSC01024OMG! You are totally blogging this aren’t you?

Maybe…  Somehow it doesn’t seem that bizarre if you live here with it.  heh

God.  That’s sad, isn’t it?

not sad, but blogworthy. lots of folk are skeered of snakes. or fascinated by them. or would like to hear aobut the olive oil snakey hand job.

You are a shit for saying that!  My sweet, innocent leetle bay-bee!

Why, thank you ma’am!


Amended to add that Witchypoo really does know what she’s doing when it comes to posting or working anywhere else on a computer for that matter.  For some reason putting it up on Kelly’s site was being very complicated and it just wouldn’t take it as written.  I told her it’s because she doesn’t speak Australian. heh

I believe, with all my heart, that there is a “hair imbalance” in this house.   Both girls have WAY more than is required to be a girl, (or even a horse), and it is so long and ultra thick that they get the stares when they go out and people want to touch it.  I mean beau-ti-ful hairs.  Shiny, glossy, slippery, abundance of hair.

John?  Gettin’ a wee bit gray, and a wee bit more sparse on top.  The eyebrows are getting wilder every time I attempt to tame them, and I am guessing it won’t be long before there are a few singular hairs sticking out of his ears.

Time will tell.

Then we come to me.  I am currently dying all the gray, non-conformist, rat-bastard hairs into submission.  That is on my head, anyway.  There are other hairs that are starting to give me grief.

The last time I was putting on make up I payed close attention and I swear, God as my witness, I am getting as fuzzy as a peach on my face.  I don’t have any dark hairs.  Yet.  But my once smooth cheeks and, ahem, sideburns, are covered in soft fuzzy clearish looking hairs.  Yes, my face is very soft.  SO IS A PEACH.

I stood there looking at this.  One more step towards the grave.  AND, IT IS!   I would actually take a picture and show you IF I HAD A CAMERA THAT WOULD TAKE CLOSE UPS.

Gee.  You guys don’t know what you’re missing… heh.

Now I gotta go research facial hair removal products.  Fun, fun, fun.

IF I had a camera that could take good close ups, I would show you people a thing or two that… that, well… you wouldn’t know about other wise!  Things that you are blissfully unaware of right now.  Things that somewhere deep down inside, you will be uncomfortable and squirming just a bit and thinking, OH MY GAWD! WHY IS SHE SHOWING ME THIS? I WON’T BE ABLE TO SLEEP TONIGHT! this is bizarre.  Krissa, clearly has too much time on her hands….  Again.

But I don’t have a camera that takes good close ups so I will have to use my extensive vocabulary to tell you all about it and paint the proverbial picture with words and crap. Er, crapola?

OK, today we have, for your viewing pleasure description, the smushed roach I found on the bathroom floor when I returned home from my trip to Mither’s and Pop’s house.  John admitted to stepping on it in an attempt to keep it from finding it’s way upstairs where we would, ultimately have to run, up the stairs, to slap a daughter and then gag her to stifle her screaming save one or both of the girls when they stumble upon the roach while it is planning it’s attack on her/them.   At this point I should indicate to you that roaches in deep south Texas are different than roaches in any other part of the country and state.  They are huge and they fly.  That’s right, people.  They FLY.  And they are not very good at it.  Which means that even though they are trying like mad to get away from you they usually end up dive bombing you as they fly across the room.  This causes much screaming and yelling from the girls that are, of course, standing outside in the hall watching with saucer-sized eyes.  Me?  I am charging around the room in hot pursuit of the little bastard and it’s gettin’ personal now!  I have my shoe off and am slamming it against the wall or ceiling or floor or occasional piece of laundry that’s left in the floor, saying, “I hope these clothes LEFT ALL OVER THE FLOOR are at least dirty!

Oh, and if you’re saying, “I live in the south and I have roaches like that!”  You don’t.  This is Texas.  They are bigger and carry Texas flags.

Naw.  They don’t intimidate me much.  Until they land on me.  Eww.

Anyway, you can see why it is so important that we hunt down and murder any roach we happen to see.  It does not happen often, but John and I instantly go to the aforementioned scenerio in our minds when we see one on the outside of the fireplace and it runs inside and we can’t get it.  We look at each other and it’s like telepathy.

John: I have to go to work early tomorrow.  You have to get up with them in the middle of the night if they start screaming “ROACH!”.

me: Fine, but exactly when do you plan to take your turn?  What if it goes up there in the evening and you’ve just gotten home from work?  You’re going to be really tired and beat then, and not feel like charging up the stairs to save them.  Me?  I just think they’re stupid and would be all for letting them battle it out for themselves, but your Mom will have all kinds of wild stories to go with all the screaming going on.  She will find a way to use the phone and call the cops, ya know.

OK, background story completed now.  So we have this smushed roach on the floor in my bathroom.  It has obviously been there for at least a couple of days, I’m guessing cause it is covered with these bizarre tiny black bugs that are feasting on it’s… carcass.  They’re not any kind of ant either.  They are about half the size of a sugar ant, though.  And they move remarkably fast considering they are so tiny I can’t even see their legs.

Weird.  I smushed them all and picked up the roach with a piece of tissue and flushed them.  Haven’t seen another one since.  But I sure wish I had something to get a close up of them with so you could tell me what the hell they are I could see them better and instantly know the fancy Latin words to catagorize and label them.  Cause, I totally would.  You know me and my vocabulary.  😉

My bug collection.

A few months ago my next door neighbor came home with a new black Volkswagen Beetle.  Well, I do believe it was used, but only slightly.

First thing he did was begin to disassemble it and clean every. single. inch. of it.  I mean meticulously with a toothbrush and every cleaning product known to man.   New things were installed.  GPS system, radar detector, stereo, etc.

All this we could see from the window in our breakfast area.  The door panels were removed, the seats, the dashboard, the back where the engine is found was always open and the boot on the other end was more often than not as well.

This went on for MONTHS, literally.  Every single day, as soon as he got home from work and almost all day on weekends.

Finally, we were at a wedding reception, curiosity got the better of me and I asked his wife, “So eh…. what’s up with the new bug?  This elicited a huge eye roll and she asked me if I remembered Tim the Toolman on Home Improvement.

Home Improvement

She then asked me if I remembered how nothing was ever good enough just normal and working correctly.  It could always be improved upon and souped up.  She said this was her husband and there was absolutely nothing wrong with that car and once he started taking the door panels off he messed up something in the anti-theft area and the car wouldn’t start anymore.  He finally talked to someone at a Volkswagen dealership that explained that he would have to have it towed in and they would have to call Germany and have it “reset”.

The other ladies and I died laughing.  I know we had all been wondering the same thing.    She said God only knows how much money he had spent on that thing just tinkering around and breaking stuff.

For your viewing pleasure, (And just cause I think they’re so darn cute!), here are a couple of more I’ve seen around here!

DSC00415That red monster car parked on the other side of this one is the Lopez Family Truckster.  We were so honored by our parking space neighbor.

DSC00752OK, so it’s not such a fancy paint job… But I loves me a bright yellow car.  I just think the license plate should say “NOLEMN”.  Heh.

hippie-vw-surf-beetleThe Hippie Surfer and a few others that I got off the internezzzz.

1966 volkswagen beetle-7402741966 Beetle and one of my favs!  I can totally see me driving this with matching lipstick and nail polish… maybe shoes and purse, too.  Heh


401724906_21121998d1OK, I am just not too sure about this, but it’s so bizarre I couldn’t resist.  I think it needs chrome hubcaps…

Free Toes, everybody!