I just read that a release date has been set for George W. Bush’s memoirs. A release date? Were they in prison?
I live in Augusta, Ga and I’m upset. Tiger Woods was just here for the Master’s and he didn’t even bother to have an affair with me.
I got my census form a few weeks ago. It being a government document, I knew that it would be either complicated or funny.
So, I filled it out today. The first thing they wanted me to do was predict the future. Question #1 was: How many people were living or staying in this house, apartment, or mobile home on April 1, 2010? Today’s date is March 24, 2010.
I think the second question was written by somebody from the CIA because it sounded like they didn’t believe what I had written in question 1. Question 2 asks: Were there any additional people staying here April 1, 2010 that you did not include in Question 1? Then it goes on to give me examples that I could check off in case I happened to forget about the people who are staying at my house…. such as newborn babies. I just don’t think I’d forget about somebody who could cause as much excitement as a newborn baby in the household. I’m 50 years old. I don’t get excited by much, but that would excite me, no matter whose baby it was.
Question number 5 is interesting because the government asks me my name and tells me it’s going to call me Person 1. Gee, I’m glad the government finally assigned me a number I can remember, but I’d prefer that if you can’t remember my name, just call me honey.
Question 10 asks: Does Person 1 sometimes live or stay somewhere else? If you’ve lived in jail or prison or a nursing home on occasion, that’s the place to check. I call this the count-your-blessings question.
Person 1 is asked 10 questions. Persons 2 through 6 are asked 7 questions. Persons 7 through 12 only have to answer 4 questions. If you think Persons 7 through 12 have it easy, they don’t. At the top of the 7 through 12 Person page, it states that government personnel might call asking for additional information about them. Naaa, naaa, naaa, naaa, naaa. I’m so glad I’m Person 1.
So, now I’ve filled out my form, stuck it in the envelope, and am ready to mail it. I was curious as to where it went. It goes to the Census Data Capture Center. I just googled the definition of capture: to take captive, as by force or craft; seize. So, if you’re ever at a party and see a government worker in a safari outfit, you’ll know that he works at the Census Data Capture Center.
It only takes about 10 minutes to fill out. It’s easy enough to understand, too….until you get to the very last sentence on the very last page. That part reads: Respondents are not required to respond to any information collection unless it displays a valid approval number from the Office of Management and Budget. I think they wrote that to reassure us that this is indeed a government form.
Alternate title: How to slash your wrist grocery bills
I keep looking at these other blogs trying to find tips on how to save money on groceries. They all give the same advice that we all know anyway….eat less meat, don’t throw away left-overs, use cheaper brands. Well, duh-uhhh …
Well, I’ve got some fresh ideas for stretching your food dollars.
We all know how expensive meat is. Now, of course you can always look for the packages that are on sale or buy the less expensive cuts. …but who wants to do that? My solution? Have an affair with the butcher. Not only will you get better deals on your meat, but your life will get a lot more exciting.
Have a friend of yours blackmail the butcher. That way she gets a good deal too. You may decide that you’re more comfortable in the role of blackmailer. Fine. Let your friend be the food whore. Flexibility is the key.
They mark down prices at the bakery department, too. I’m sure you catch my drift.
They say that a person should stop and smell the roses. When you’re in the floral department….stop, smell that rose, then complain to the floral clerk that the flower looks a bit wilted. Wink and brush up against their hand as you say that. What’s the use of having feminine or masculine wiles if you’re not going to use them?
Ok, you may ask why you should sacrifice your virtues just to lower your grocery bills. If you’re interested in keeping your virtue, you’re just going to have to wait for my church article.
If you have kids, it’s important that you add veggies to their diets. Fresh vegetables are expensive. If they’re cut up for you, they’re even more expensive. Plant a garden. Here’s a fun, easy way to get your kids to do the hoeing. Tell them that Santa Claus is buried under there.
Milk’s another high priced staple. I’ve got some advice for that, too. Have you ever heard a man ask “why buy the cow when the milk’s free?” Find that man and ask him when is the milk free and at which store.
There is no recess in recession, so you should keep your eyes peeled for food bargains even when you’re not at a store whose mission is to sell food. Next time you’re at the pet store, ask the manager if there’s any big fish around that have recently expired. Explain that big dead fish floating around in those acquariums surely can’t be good for business. You can take them off his hands and it’s a win-win situation for everyone. Well, not for the fish…but do you really care about a dead fish’s feelings?
Research has shown that you spend less if you pay in cash rather than with a check or credit card. Just wanted to throw in a tip that you wouldn’t be too scared to use.
I love playing the Sims. One of the things I like doing is writing a brief biography for each character. One of these days, I will have to dig these up for ya’ll. My latest one was for a guy who’s got three kids and no wife around. Here’s his background:
John’s ex-wife, Ginger, finally snapped. She’s now in a mental hospital wondering whether she’s a turtle or a cookie.
I remember another line I wrote about an ex-wife:
Bruce was once married to a woman who loved shiny, expensive things. She’s left him for a surgical equipment salesman.
When I was a toddler, my parents used to give me toys and cookies and kisses which
is basically all I’ve ever wanted anyway. Boy, were they good to me and they didn’t really expect much out of me back then. If I smiled, they were happy. If I ate, they were happy. If I stopped crying, they were happy….a lesson that served me well when I got a husband. Anyway, there wasn’t much I did that made them terribly unhappy.
Then, came potty training. All I had to do was a poo-poo or a pee-pee and they got excited. I really liked making these wonderful people happy, so whenever I felt the urge to poo-poo or pee-pee, I did it immediately just to see them smile.
Well, they did’t smile. “No, you don’t poo-poo or pee-pee in your pants.” This, of course, confused me because their pants were too big for me.
I finally learned that although I had the timing right, I had the location wrong. This was my introduction to not just potty chairs, but to life’s little screw-ups. And….as I got older, I moved up to using commodes and making bigger screw-ups.
“Oh, baby,” my mother used to tell me. “There’s so much you need to learn…..how to read and write….how to drive….” With a lower voice and a bit of a blush, “How to kiss a boy…how to prepare for a career. How to raise children.”
I figured I was bright enough to learn those things. All I had to do was be in the right place at the right time. Apparently, that’s not all there was to it.
****************
“That’s my desk.”
“Wow. I bet it was hard carrying it from your house all the way here to school.”
“You’re trying to get smart, aren’t you?”
“Yes, that’s why I’m in school.”
“You’ve got a big mouth.”
“Actually, I think yours is a little bit bigger.”
As the school nurse applied ice to my bruised eye, she listened to my tale of woe. ”Look, sweetheart….you need to learn how not to talk back to people.”
“So, basically, when a mean person starts talking to me, I should just shut up?”
“That’s what I do.”
That was an eye-opener, or in my case, an eye shutter. I didn’t know then that 42 years later, I’d be writing to say that I’d spent a lifetime of making life’s large and little screw-ups. Yeah. I managed to learn from every one of them, but boy, if I’d have known then what I know now….I would have stayed on my potty seat a while longer to ponder things.
***This article is dedicated to the memory of my cousin, Judson Farrar (1986-2008). A life that is joyfully remembered is never a screw-up. RIP.
This past Christmas, I started hinting to my sweetie about my desire for better transportation. He got me a pair of skates, a rope and a dog. I told him that that wouldn’t get me to work fast enough…..so he gave me a cat.
The last time I played basketball instead of getting the ball in the hoop, I hit the neighbors house. I don’t have that type of hand-eye coordination. I’m mentioning this because my prospective employer wants me to aim my body fluids at a cup before being hired. I don’t have that hand-eye….never mind…..
I was a manager at my last job. I fired this one guy because he worked like a dog. He was always sniffing around for drugs.
I keep getting Skype messages from woman who wants to be my friend. She sent me a picture of herself wearing a bikini in the kitchen. I just don’t want to be friends with a person who thinks there’s a pool in the kitchen.