Category Archives: ridiculous

It’s Me, The Ignoramus

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So 10 months ago, I had my roof re-shingled and in doing so, they had to remove my DIRECTV dish. According to my roofers, DIRECTV put it in the wrong spot. Odd how the dish has worked nicely for the last 20 years in the wrong spot.

Anyway, apparently it became damaged when they removed it, so I contacted DIRECTV for a new one. After 20 years on their protection plan, I rarely needed them. I can think of many other things I’d rather have spent that $2400 on. But now that I’m off the plan, what do you bet next month the whole system crashes? Oh well…

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Observations on the Ridiculous, Chapter 2

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Because of a crazy busy week, I’m re-posting from May 25, 2014. I’m certain you won’t remember it since I barely did myself, but then I’m known for my poor memory. Anyway, that’s my story and I’m sticking to it!

The ridiculous continues. Here are this month’s 7 picks…

My ridiculous dog, Nellie

Nellie

1. My dog Nellie. The last 3 times I’ve walked my Greyhound she’s chosen to stop at the same house to do her business. That wouldn’t be so bad if her business wasn’t comprised of a load of disgustingly runny poop. (Hope you aren’t eating right now.)

poop bags To make matters worse, the homeowners are always out front. What are the odds? I do carry poop bags and always clean up after my dogs but still, this is getting ridiculous. Try as I might to coax her over to the next house (where those homeowners have the good sense not to be home), one simply cannot budge a pooping Greyhound once she becomes so inclined. I believe it’s time to change our walking route. Continue reading →

A Felon with a Pretty Face

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Jeremy Meeks
Jeremy Meeks

If you don’t recognize that name or face, you don’t own a TV, read the newspaper, have a computer or listen to the radio. That means you’re most likely a hermit living in a cabin in the mountains of Minnesota. Does Minnesota have mountains?  If so, that’s probably where you’re living – sort of like the Unabomber except with essentials: an espresso machine, See’s milk chocolate chews and Crest Extra Whitening Toothpaste. After all, you’re not a barbarian, just uninformed. Now back to Jeremy…

Unabomber, Ted Kazinski
The Unabomber
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What I’ll Never Do

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The other day as I drove down the freeway, a car suddenly left the fast lane and cut across 2 other lanes to reach the upcoming exit. A bold and reckless move. I caught myself saying out loud, “Whoa, that was crazy. I would NEVER do that.” (Although I admit I’ve come close.) And thus an idea was born for my blog. So here’s what I’ll never do…

HITCHHIKE

As you learned from my Boogeyman posting, I’m a fan of murder documentaries. So I know what can happen when someone, especially a lone woman, sticks out her thumb while standing alongside a road, asking a complete stranger to take her somewhere. Seriously? Have these people never heard of the Texas Killing Fields? You might as well be saying, “Hey psychopathic ax-murdering rapist-kidnapper, where ya goin’? Can I come along?”

Now don’t get me wrong; I’m not saying all those who pick up hitchhikers are any of the above. But am I willing to take that chance? I think not. Let it be known I’m not a lucky gambler, the sole reason I avoid casinos. It’s one thing to lose a bundle of cash. But by hitchhiking, I’d inevitably be playing Russian roulette with a fully loaded chamber.

BUNGEE JUMP

Speaking of death wishes, I’ve tried a lot of things that could be considered adventurous, maybe even dangerous. Or stupid. I’ve jumped from a plane; went gliding; rafted down a class IV river; biked around Lake Tahoe before I was a biker; kayaked alongside Orca whales off British Columbia; camped on a safari in Africa where a hyena slept against our tent; sat mere feet from a towering bull elephant; took up snowboarding at age 58 (not my brightest move); enjoyed hot air ballooning; tried parasailing, and more. But bungee jump? Nuh-uh. Never wanted to. Never will. That’s just crazy.

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Bad Things Don’t Happen in Threes

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They say bad things happen in threes. And to that I say, Pshaw! Who are “they” anyway? Because I’d like to have a word with them. I’m here as living proof that bad things can happen in fours, fives, and for poor saps like me, let’s talk nines.

It started when, unbeknownst to me, my kitchen faucet started to leak (bad thing #1). How am I to know it was slowly dripping under the cabinet? Unfortunately, I rarely look under there. Turns out it holds stuff I didn’t know I had. Like how often do you use sterling silver polish? Me? Let’s say never. And here’s my proof.

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