Witness Protection Please

Posted on May 18, 2018 by simplygiselle

This is “Chester” – I had to change his name to protect him from the cartel he was running on the Texas/Mexican boarder. He had just arrived a week before from the mean streets of Texas and staying in the day care system until a foster (temporary witness protection) or an adoption (full blown witness protection).

When the rescue agency tells you that this tiny brown boy not only was the head of the Chihuahua gang on the streets but also again in their day care too, you know he is the real deal. I didn’t make this up!

I haven’t asked about what brought him to New England and why he needed to hide out and he hasn’t offered any hints so I think it best to just ignore it. So far, he loves the area and the people.

It may be a while before he puts his past behind him and stops looking over his shoulder to see if someone recognizes him, but I have assured him, say the word and decorative outfits will be bought to disguise him. He came to the right house; no snitches here. Whatever it was, I think he was framed.

No Alanis, that is NOT what ironic means

Posted on August 16, 2017 by simplygiselle

To point out the irony of this photo;

it is taped to the white board at work. Yes. Taped. = IRONIC

Which leads me to the Alanis M song Ironic because it just drives me batsh*t there is not one example of irony in the whole damn song. I really like the song…so I have a huge internal struggle every time I listen to it.

**An old man turned ninety-eight, he won the lottery and died the next day… (not ironic just extremely bad timing and hey, he was ninety-eight for crying out loud!)

**It’s a black fly in your Chardonnay…(this just outright sucks and can be considered alcohol abuse because flies are gross and you have to toss the wine no matter how badly you want to drink it)

**It’s a death row pardon two minutes too late…(there is a theme that runs throughout this song focusing on bad timing and this is just the second of many that points it out)

**It’s like rain on your wedding day… (you may think bad timing, but I will chalk it up to omen)

**It’s a free ride when you have already paid… (again, timing. I want to give it another category, but really I can’t its all timing)

**It’s the good advice that you just didn’t take…(ok, this is clearly not ironic but you didn’t take the advice for many different reasons; first and foremost, you may be thick headed and just stuck to your guns, nothing wrong with having some conviction, Alanis!)

And on and on we go. you know the song… dude waits his whole life to take a trip on an airplane and it crashes (pure bad luck, not ironic), traffic jam when you are already late (theme = bad timing), no-smoking sign on your cigarette break (um, are you too damn lazy to move to another spot? The sign won’t follow you around you know…)

Anyway, my photo shows what ‘ironic’ actually means. It’s not timing or bad luck.

Ironic is having a sign that is taped to a white board that states you are not allowed to tape anything to the white board. THAT is IRONIC Alanis. Fit THAT into your earwig song!

Talent(less) Show

Posted on August 8, 2017 by simplygiselle

When work brings up the idea of having a talent show, I immediately think – I have no talent! I can’t even do the Molly Ringwald (Breakfast Club) hands-free lipstick trick! (and I actually had the nerve to judge how lame that was and NOW look at me, ugh).

So what does that leave? Sing? Not unless you want the neighborhood dogs to as my back-up (maybe the barking Christmas carol dogs are still available). Dance? Um, no. I already am convalescing from a concussion and fractured nose and that happened with me tripping over my own shadow a few weekends ago so I can’t afford more time out of work… I can’t throw my voice nor do I want to stick my hand up some puppet’s butt for a few laughs (and I don’t cook a turkey for the same weird reason)… I am not double jointed (although that always sounded so cool) and I am running out of ideas.

I need suggestions and pronto!

Lollipops and Wise Old Owls

Posted on July 20, 2017 by simplygiselle

Mr. Owl; how many licks does it take to get to the center of a tootsie pop?

It is close to impossible for me to hear the word lollipop and not travel back in time to the 70’s to a commercial where a young boy asks a number of animals this very important question. I wont even describe the short commercial because it loses so much in translation. The answer ultimately becomes 3 and leaves you to believe even further it is not the answer because the owl can’t make it to the end and bites into it. Ok, spoiler alert for those that were too lazy to look it up beforehand.

My favorite flavor of the tootsie pop was cherry but the tootsie roll center was not a complementary pairing. I ended up tossing the center which is too bad because it is pretty tasty on its own.

In need of some Tooth Fairy money but Mother Nature is taking to damn long? Astro Pop to the rescue! Sticky rating: 11 out of 10. No way to save a tooth once this pop made the slightest touch.

A Ring pop is for the little girl who wanted it all; the 12 yr old prince that could afford one and the sugar to keep us running from them and pulling on our ponytail.

The Whistle Pop is the revenge pop to every parent who allowed their child to scream endlessly at the supermarket or restaurant and blankly stare at the rest of us as our ears bleed, for every kick to the back of our chair, for every cut in line at the bathroom because the kid just couldn’t wait… take THAT. A lollipop that blows out your eardrums for a good 30 mins or more, hopefully on a long car ride where the parent cannot escape.

The DumDum, aka the Halloween lollipop . A case of these will cost about a dollar. Treats handed out at a fraction of the cost and yard not toilet papered; dun and dun. Any what is with the ‘mystery’ flavor? Call it berry and stop screwing with us.

Which lollipop springs to mind when you hear the word?

Blue eyes becoming extinct!

Posted on July 19, 2017 by simplygiselle

If you have blue eyes, you better start procreating with others of your kind before it’s too late. According to an article in the NY Times in 2006 (what the hell year is it anyway?), it states from U.S. Census Bureau, that blue eyes have now become increasingly rare among American children. It goes on to say that due to “immigration patterns, intermarriage, and genetics, all play a part in their steady decline.” The 2002 Loyola U study stated “about half of Americans born at the turn of the 20^th century had blue eyes… by mid-century that number had dropped to a third” i.e. as of 2015, only 16.6% of American have blue eyes, and sounds like this number will be dropping rapidly.

See? Statistics don’t lie – jump on that fancy cell phone and start pawing through your little black book, make some booty calls, and explain the devastating future that lies ahead for your kind. That should be a sure fire way to get you a hooked up.

Blue eyes no lie: Goose

An American heritage and genetic line that lost its blue eyes?! Disastrous!!

19 Things your mom did back in the day or ‘how I survived my childhood’

Posted on February 17, 2017 by simplygiselle

Let’s be nostalgic for a few minutes shall we? Mom.me originally posted this list of 19 items that instantly brought me back to my childhood (good, bad, or indifferent)…

Ride in a car without a seat belt. Yup. The shoulder strap keeping you from slamming your head against the glove compartment was mom’s arm that instantly stretched across the car not unlike the Stretch Armstrong toy. No matter how large the vehicle was, mom’s arm shot across you shoulder to shoulder.
Style your hair with her spit. Yup. She had every ‘dippity do’ and extra strong Aquanet eating the ozone but her spit to keep my bangs out of my eyes was good enough for me.
Put coke in my lunch box. Nope. We were not the high fa-luting type to afford Coke and didn’t have soda in the house until I was much older. We had powered milk; just add water (while the milk dust fills your nasal cavity and lungs). On special occasions we had Zarex syrup. A school lunchtime drink was using the dime in the foil in the lunchbox or mitten to pay for the 4 oz container of milk that, when finally opened, lunch period was over. The milk struggle was real.
Send you to the store for bread. More like a pack of butts from the corner market. Society now frowns on the 8 yr old walking in alone and purchasing Virginia Slims.
Tell you to walk to your friends house. Yup. Your friend list extended as far as you could walk-before the streetlights came on of course. For me, my shifty brothers stole a bike for me, painted it another color, and my ‘neighborhood of friends’ instantly expanded a few more streets away.
Meet your date when they picked you up. Yup. The nervous sweating was not about actually going on the date, it was the 100 questions that he would be asked without even setting a foot in the door.
Send you to the neighbors to borrow a cup of sugar. Yup. If you switch sugar with egg its right on the money. Lots of baking from scratch went on and to keep the household fed, the last of something was used the day before payday and the neighbors always helped each other.
Talk to your neighbors. Yup. Not only talked to them but we were encouraged to visit. Hmmm maybe this was my mother’s way of giving herself some alone time under the guise of ‘saying hello to’ that old neighbor who could never remember who you were to begin with.
Let you walk near a glass table. Well this one is not really fair we didn’t own one. I can say, however, that we did have a coffee table that I slammed my head on while I toddled around like a drunken sailor. She was kind enough to share that story with me later in life.
Not answer the phone when away from their kids.Yup. How many times would I call to get permission to eat over my friends house and curiously no one would pick up the damn rotary phone. I know she is there! its dinnertime and she is cooking. WTH.
Go to the pool without sunscreen. Yup. Sunscreen? Try lather up with baby oil to get that dark shiney glow! and not the pool but walk to the lake (another thing kids wouldn’t do these days; a two mile hike alone).
Let the neighborhood teenager babysit. Nope. I had no need. On the very rare occasion my parents left the house, I had the pleasure of one or two of my three older brothers to ~~beat me~~ um, make sure I was quiet and put to bed on time. I may have been safer with Son of Sam.
Let you eat your Halloween candy as soon as you came home. Yes and no. Although I was allotted my share of the booty, the parents had first dibs on everything dumped on the floor. I like to think of it as the ‘vig’ – house gets their cut right? Mom was big on Squirrels and Mary Janes – two things to completely rip your teeth out of your head. Mom was living on the edge.
Leave you in the car while she ran in real quick. Well, here is the thing about this one. My mom learned the hard way to never do that again. She ‘ran into the store real quick’ only to return and find her daughter screaming blue murder because she decided to put her finger on the hot coiled cigarette lighter. The skin quickly bubbled up and to much of my surprise, I didn’t lose any feeling in the tip of that finger. Lesson learned mom, right?
Let your friends pierce your ears. Nope. We went to Cherry and Webb were I chickened out in the seat and my mom had her’s done instead. So not a completely wasted trip.
Let you sit behind the wheel of the car and pretend you were driving. Yup. We felt all grown up sitting in their lap and ‘steering’. Brittany Spears can attest to the harsh reality that this is a big ‘no no’ these days.
Ride your bike without a helmet. Yup. Not only did I not have a helmet I was self taught and wrist guards would probably have been more helpful. I do have to throw out there that where I live, flipping your bike over and using the pedals to spin the wheels and pretend you were an ice cream sales person was reality. It is surprising to hear that some kids never did that. Brienne F. – I am looking in your direction.
Let you use a pair of scissors on your own. I cannot truthfully answer this. I can only remember using the rounded scissors growing up. Maybe we didn’t have any real scissors as it was too much of a temptation for my mother bringing up those three boys. I, of course, was a saint.
Buy you candy cigarettes. Yup. Smoke’em if you got’em. Although I will admit actually inhaling the candy cigarette and choking on all the powder that is used to create the ‘smoke’. Whoops. Blow out not in. I needed the remedial class on smoking candy cigs apparently.

And there you have it. Have more that you want to share? Please do. It’s nice to know of other people’s childhood horror.

Mom and Me (high school) rocking the hair

A silly moment in my day: stuck in an elevator

Posted on January 27, 2017 by simplygiselle

Heading down just a few flights in the elevator, the button lights go out and the elevator does the ‘bump’ that let’s you know something is not right. After pressing all the buttons to see if there was even the slightest possibility that the doors would open onto another floor, it is time to hit the HELP button.

The voice on the other end asks, “how can I help you?”

me: “I am stuck in an elevator”. voice: “where?” me: “gives street address”. voice: “well what is wrong?” me: “the doors wont open and the lights on the panel are out” voice: “did you try the open door button” me: “no, hold on” (damn it, the one button I didn’t try) me: “no not working”. voice: “ok we will send someone over”.

And then I think, well I am not hungry, don’t need the bathroom, so I am good for a while.

And then a knocking comes on the elevator door to which I respond “occupado” (you have to do it in a sing-songy voice to get the full effect)… and I hear chuckling on the other side of the door, who then says, “I know that’s why I am here”

Then we all lived happily ever after. The end.

Cold Sweat by Ezra Dyer

Posted on January 20, 2017 by simplygiselle

Brrr. Feel the chill? Winter is on its way. But don’t worry: There are tons of fun ways to enjoy the season and have a blast despite the sun being a cold dead orb that barely seems to struggle above the horizon before the wizened claw of frigid darkness once again tightens its bony grip upon the land. So don’t just huddle inside drinking cold Ruski vodka and eating your vitamin D pills—get out there and have a great time with these outdoor ideas that’ll turn your life into a winter fun-derland!

Snowshoeing. Snowshoeing is magical. Instead of laboriously slogging through deep powder, punching down and dragging your boots back to the surface with each punishing step, snowshoes allow you to glide gracefully across the surface. Oh, I’m sorry—those are cross-country skis. Snowshoes are giant baskets you strap to your feet, and wearing them is considered a sign of hypothermia-induced mental impairment. Snowshoeing is like trying to use an elliptical machine with both feet jammed into trash cans, or dancing a mambo in Satan’s clogs. It’s said that the Inuit have 100 words for snow and not one word for why anyone would wear snowshoes.

Sledding. In fifth grade, there was an eighth-grader who was kicking the little kids down the sledding hill before they could reach the top. So, as I climbed up near his boots, I reached out and wrapped him up, toppling him all the way down the hill and filling the pockets of his Jordaches with snow. He responded by giving me a wedgie hard enough to rip my underwear. So you’ve got to be really careful when you’re sledding.

Skiing. Oftentimes the temperature in Boston will sink into the teens or lower. You know what that means: time to go north and seek higher elevation. When you get to the mountain, you’ll park in Lot 15, which is that many miles from the base lodge. Then you’ll carry your $2,000 worth of gear to the lodge, where everyone removes their normal shoes and hides them under a cafeteria table. You put on your ski boots, which require you to walk like you have a loaded diaper, then realize that you have to go to the bathroom, which is down six flights of stairs. By the time you clomp there and back, it’s lunchtime. After lunch, you decide to head to the summit, which is easily accessible from the base lodge. All you do is take the T-bar to the top of Silly Goose, then ski down to the Rabid Moose quad and take it back up to Head Wound Gully. You ski that down to the Chairway to Hell low-speed triple, and then from there it’s back down Certain Dismemberment, where you traverse over to the gondola. There, a guy named Xander who’s just taking a year off to figure things out will herd you and five strangers into a small box, where you’ll spend the next 10 minutes avoiding eye contact and praying nobody farts. When the gondola doors reopen, you’ll find yourself watching the sunset from the majesty of the mid-mountain lodge. So you ski back down to the base lodge, which takes 30 seconds, and get into some après-ski, which involves frostbitten people with reconstructed knees getting drunk to Dave Matthews Band covers while wearing winter hats indoors. It might all sound like a lot, but you can learn to be a competent skier even if you start at an advanced age, by which I mean no later than 6.

Ice skating. Winter just isn’t winter without a deep bone bruise, so why not go for the coccyx?

Ice fishing. Ice fishing is when you cut a hole in the ice and then build a six-bedroom house around it, complete with NFL Sunday Ticket in the game room and a two-car garage. One night, during a dinner party, the caterer offers a heavy passed hors d’oeuvre—some kind of beef with chevre thing, really good—and your friend Jeff takes a step back and puts his foot right down through the fishing hole, which is next to the half-bath off the kitchen, and you’re like, “Hey Jeff, careful buddy! We’re fishing.” Then the next week the ice melts and everyone is rescued by hovercraft.

Building a snowman. Building a snowman is a playful way to tell Mother Nature that a little bit of sticky precipitation won’t stop you from fashioning pagan idols. Traditional snowmen have lumps of coal for their eyes and mouth, but you should celebrate carbon-neutral energy by using chunks of uranium. The fun thing about making a snowman is that the rolling snowballs pick up anything that was on the ground, making for all sorts of neat surprises. Say, did you clean up after your dog before it snowed, or does Mr. Shivers have a funny-looking pipe in his mouth? No and yes! Don’t worry too much about getting him perfect, because he’s just going to melt. Probably no later than St. Patrick’s Day.

Cold Sweat

Here are some cool ideas for soaking up the sub-zero weather.

By Ezra Dyer | Nov. 23, 2016 – Improper Bostonian

http://www.improper.com/life-style/cold-sweat/

I cannot for the life of me figure out how to share the actual page on Improper Bostonian so I copied and pasted giving full credit to Ezra Dyer. This article had me laughing so hard at 6:30 am with lack of coffee in my system. Why is it so funny to me? Because certain ideas resonate so strongly. Thank you Ezra!