Friday, December 21, 2007

Wisenheimer Holiday





Baby sister spied this holiday display and wrote the following:


Heading to work this morning, something caught my eye
It was four reindeer, getting ready to fly?
Walter said, "Mom, look how funny
"Why is that reindeer on the other's tummy?"

I hooted with Christmas cheer
Envying the rowdy teenagers who decorate with a sneer
Luckily, I had my camera on hand
To share this Christmas spirit straight from small town Louisiana land!


A couple of pals have suggested the pranksters are indeed myself and the perverse humored baby sister. Sadly, no. We love us a prank but feel a bit intimidated by our diminishing agility and strongly doubt that if we could outrun homeowners and possibly police. That's probably why the coach in Marietta, Georgia drove around those kids to vandalize Christmas displays and arrange reindeer in lewd positions. Even if he did get caught, he probably inspired our local hooligans. He was doing God's work, I tell ya.

Merry Christmas to ya'll and yours!

Wednesday, December 19, 2007

Daddy's little helper

As Daddy's little helper, sometimes I pick up and deliver materials and parts. Yesterday Dad asked me to take some Rubatex (tubular pipe insulation) to his technician on the job. Dad wrote down the tech's cell number and instructed me to phone him when I was near. I called and called and was a bit peeved that he didn't answer. Finally I got through but the reception wasn't clear.

I loudly said, "Hey, this is Leezra, I have some Rubatex for ya and I'll be there in a minute."

"Rub a what?"

"Rubatex!"

"You're gonna rub what?"

"No, I have some Rubatex and I am driving to the job and will be there in a minute!"
By now, I am pissed that my co-worker is wasting my time with foolishness and also a bit bothered by the fact that he is speaking to me in an unprofessional manner. While I talk like a sailor with my friends, I don't discuss off-color subjects with co-workers. "Look, I don't have time for this! Dad said you needed Rubatex and that is what I am bringing to you."

"What is Rubasex?"

Seethe.

"Is this Mike?"

"No, lady, who are you?"

"Nevermind." Click.

Dad swears he didn't write down the wrong number on purpose.

Tuesday, December 18, 2007

Let the in-law angst begin!







Dawn sent me this e-mail of venting:

I need to vent about my mother-in-law if you care to listen. I'm just friggin amazed at these people! I think I'd already told you about my wonderful husband Andrew driving all the way to North Carolina to pick up his mother who'd changed her mind and decided she didn't want to come, right? So he ended up driving back home alone. Well, she's here now because Andrew's rich and important brother-in-law drove up to get her in his big, fancy car which his mother apparently found suitable enough for her Highness. Two days later, Andrea (Andrew's rich and important sister) phones Andrew and tells him that he needs to drive their mom back home after the holidays. I told Andrew if he did drive her home, I would divorce him. What kind of jerk picks someone up and doesn't figure out how they are getting them home before they do it???? SO, The Byatch is here and she went to lunch with Andrew and Andrea, his dog-loving sister. I couldn't go because I committed to attend a Christmas party that day and wasn't cancelling. Plus, I don't like his mother or his dog-loving sister. Both of whom are downers. Andrew told me later that his mom said that I am "all about money" and "unappreciative because everything she's ever given me I've returned". I have no idea where these ideas came from. Was it the 13 years of living in a home without heat? The 10 year old squeaky truck, or the Wal-Mart clothes????? This being stated while the woman is dripping in diamonds and gold. Plus, I've never returned not one of her presents and have written her thank you cards every year lying about how much I loved whatever crappy dime store junk she bought me! She also said at the end of lunch, "Please thank Dawn for taking the time out of her busy schedule to come see me" (I'm picturing it being said in sort of a Queen Elizabeth fashion). The dog lover Andrea chimes in that she's not getting Andrew anything for Christmas because last year she gave us a movie gift card and we never used it. I'm almost positive that I did use it but if I didn't, I'm wondering if she's psycho enough to have periodically checked the balance on it. Either way, she's a whack job! OH, and his mother made a comment about how disappointed she was that neither Andrew nor the other brother Anton had a suitable home for her to stay in when she's in town. Understandably, that was a dig on Andrew's 10-year "renovation" but Anton's house was literally blown away in the hurricane! I'm not lying, down to the SLAB! What an insensitive cow! Plus, what she doesn't know is that no matter how suitable our home is, there will never be enough room in it for her to stay!
Whew, that felt good to get off my chest. Thanks for listening. Anyway, that's pretty much all the Christmas drama. Any with you?
-----------------------------------------------------------
My counsel to her:

Gee D,

No drama here. Guess it is the lack of in-laws.

I am just in awe that this woman drops all this crap and no one seems to call her on it. Did Andrew tell you these things in the attitude of "get a load of what my crazy mom said"? Or was he looking to you to say "yes, it is okay for you to drive her home"?

She is a bully. She gets away with it because no one bucks her.

Give me her phone number. I am ready to perform a boxing of the ears, via phone lines.

Will you see her while she is in town? Here are some phrases to practice:

* Why do you ask?
* What an interesting thing to say.
* Do you really feel that way?
* Wow, do you realize how that sounds?
* Oh, you are SO funny! (when she says something completely untrue)
* Are you being so sarcastic? You were serious? Wow.
* Mother Theresa - you ain't.
* You know we can hear you, right?
* Better hope I am not the one that selects your nursing home, you miserable crone. (say this in a whisper)
* Start the discussion about how no matter how much plastic surgery a lady gets, her hands always give her away. Mention that even if a woman's face looks like Heather Locklear, you know she is old if she has crow hands. Then sit there while she surreptitiously
looks at her own hands. Then giggle. Let her catch your giggling. Then give her the stink eye.
* Bring up the nursing home comment again.
* Repeat the stink eye.

Hoping that I have been an assistance to you,

The very single,
and very happy,
but ready to go ape shit on your mother-in-law,
SkitzoLeezra
Related Posts with Thumbnails