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March 9th, 2010
why run from the cops? they’re going to find you, eventually.

There’s this sales guy, who works in the office I come to twice a week, who’s cologne smells like cat litter. And he constantly passes by my desk to talk to someone near me and every. single. time. I try hard not to gag. It’s so irritating.

And that’s what I was going to wax on about today, BUT THEN there was a high speed chase that ended in front of our building, and we proceeded to sit in front of the windows and watch the insanity.

So two cop cars pull the red car over. One cop makes both guys walk to the back and put their hands on the trunk—suddenly, one guy runs. The other cop from the other car jumps out and takes off after him. The cop who stayed bodily forces the other guy to keep his upper body on the trunk. It appears he is yelling at him, but our windows are very thick. He finally cuffs him and makes him sit on the sidewalk. Another cop car shows up.

The running cop comes back… he has not caught the guy. He is red-faced, huffing and puffing and very, very pissed. He grabs the cuffed guy and throws him into the police car. Now another police car has arrived. Two of the cops are still huffing and puffing (bigger, very red-faced and visibly pissed off), while the other cop who has arrived starts going through the car. Then they are all going through the car and another cop arrives.

Passersby are starting to hang out on the other side of the street, and the kid who was sweeping the parking lot today has swept the same spot, next to the cops, for the past 10 minutes. It’s very clean now.

They towed the car, after going through it quite haphazardly, and now I believe two cops are left to take statements from people who saw the whole thing.

I feel like Law & Order is happening right outside my window and it is so much fun.

posted in: crazy escapades,hilarity — @ 11:02 am

June 15th, 2008
don’t forget the sunscreen

Yesterday the Chop and I went kayaking. The sky was clear, the water was smooth and the sun was shining.

Oh, and we forgot to put on sunscreen.

Today the Chop and I are sitting at home, nursing our sunburns. He’s worse off, as he wore shorter shorts and a tank top, while I had on short-sleeves and longer pants (I was afraid I’d get cold). I’m trying to convince him to let me take a picture of his legs, because oh. my. god., lol, but so far he’s being very resistant.

posted in: crazy escapades,hilarity — @ 11:54 am

May 28th, 2007
weekends are supposed to be relaxing

Saturday began as a rather typical weekend day. Reggie woke us up around 9ish (rather, 7 first, then 9ish, and to be true, she woke up the Porkchop, then I wandered out about an hour later), we lazed about on the couch, debating which errands we had to run first and wondering if it was really going to get insanely hot again (it did, 89).

Then I spotted something on Reggie’s eyelid.. a tick. Woohoo, we though we’d gotten rid of those, she’s had her tick treatment, etc., but apparently the eyelid didn’t take much of the repellent.

Therefor the next thirty minutes or so involved wrestling a dog so that we could aim tweezers at her eyeball to pull off the tick and hope we got the head. Loads. of. fun. for. everyone.

After this joyous occasion, the Chop and I jumped in the car to go to the grocery store, and whilst backing out, he managed to hit a tree. Fortunately, this broke the tension of the tick situation and we busted out laughing. Unfortunately, his bumper is a little bit fucked up, lol.

Once we got home and unloaded groceries, we piled the mongrel in the car and headed to Petco… where she got her demon claws, aka nails, clipped. She stayed relatively calm through the process, despite the fact that the employee assigned to distract her took a personal call on her cell while holding the dog. Amazingly, the nails got clipped and she didn’t nip the idiot.

Reggie goes through rawhides like a competitive eater, so we started heading down aisles, picking up food, a new toy (which, despite it’s “for tough chewers.. won’t rip!” slogan, she managed to yank the stuffing out of in ten minutes) and rawhides when lo and behold, a freaking Rottweiler blocked the aisle. I, being (understandably) petrified, promptly dropped some cat food and debated fleeing. Reggie, being freakishly calm, sniffed the Rotty, who sniffed back, and made friends. Chop, being Chop, was just very pleased I didn’t bolt the other way.

Can I just say, though, that if a mother fucking huge ass dog, with a reputation for attacking, suddenly comes upon you and stands literally five feet away sniffing your dog who is half their size and whose head can fit in his massive jaws it’s scary? So scary, in fact, that you freeze in place and sincerely hope his owner and your boyfriend will save your dog because you have become a puddle of inability in five seconds?

Saturday was a long, long day.

posted in: crazy escapades,hilarity — @ 9:43 am

August 31st, 2006
do you have anyone else in the car?

We crossed rather uneventfully into Canada earlier this afternoon, driving along the lake for the most part. Entering Canada is rather easy.

Hi, yes, we’re just driving through to get to the other side. Thanks, have a nice day!

Canada: no worries, we aren’t worried you’re trying to bomb us.

On the other hand, entering the US at the Niagara Falls bridge is a smidge different. First we waited for around twenty minutes while the customs guy gave the car two cars ahead a hard time.

During this time the Porkchop displayed his impatience by alternately shaking his fist and grousing about the customs official.


We handed it over.

“Take off your sunglasses.”

I did.

“Where were you two born?”

After answering, he looks at us quizzicaly.

“And how do you two know each other?”

Followed rapidly by… “What do you two do?” “When did you two meet?” “Where are you two headed?” and our personal favorite, “Do you have anyone else in the car?”

Bear in mind, we are driving a Jetta that is so packed we pull the luggage out through the back windows when we stop at night—plus there’s a cartop carrier up above.

“Um.. no.”

He looks at us sternly.


USA: HIGH ALERT! We know you’re bringing Osama in, buried under that luggage! We will ask you the DUMBEST questions… and if you’re really lucky, we might just let you slide in. Grrr…

posted in: crazy escapades — @ 5:30 pm

November 19th, 2005
deer can fly

If you’ve never experienced deer parts flying into your windshield while you’re going 80 on a two lane highway surrounded by trucks, you haven’t lived.

The mini road trip ended with a lovely little ::splat, goosh, splat::—and me not being able to turn on the heat in my Jeep for the last hour. If you’ve never had the joy of having a deer’s parts thrown at the front of your car, let me prepare you. The icky parts that don’t ::splat:: on your windshield end up lodged in your grill, and consequently, your entire car now smells like rotted, roasting deer. Oh. my. god. It’s foul people. If I wasn’t a vegetarian before… whoosh.

About ten minutes after the incident, a cook was on NPR talking about the different kinds of stuffing you can put in a turkey. When he said “venison sausage,” I started laughing so hard I hit my high beams and pissed off the car in front of me.

It’s a truly a miracle that I arrived, 9 hours and 570 miles later, completely unscathed.

My Jeep, however, seriously needs to be washed. There’s hair and goo—it’s revolting.

And before I forget… GOOD LUCK AUGIE! (He leaves for basic training tomorrow.) Come back alive so that I can continue to harass you. :)

June 26th, 2005
The Traveler

I was driving through the city today and noticed that there was a panhandler on nearly every major intersection. They all had various creative cardboard signs. Everything from “Will work for food” to “I need a beer – God bless.”

I decided to investigate. I wanted to talk with one of these individuals. Find out their story. I’m about to drop my wife off.

As I’m driving home I stop at the first intersection. I roll down my window and explain that if he’s hungry to hop in and I’ll buy him some food. He looks surprised. I’m not just going to give him some money? He starts to stammer and I can smell the Jim Beam. Great, the car behind me is honking. The light has changed. He explains that he can’t he’s waiting for a friend. And I thought this was going to be easy.

I stop to get gas. Just my luck. I see a man walk past me to the street corner and pull out his sign.

I approach the man and I asked him if I can buy him lunch. At first he’s taken aback. Really? He asks. Sure I said, but I want you to tell me your story. I extend my hand and introduce myself. “Herman’s my name” he exclaims. Herman’s hands look dirty. (Note to self: wash hands soon.) Herman is clearly drunk off his ass. That’s ok. He’s talking with me – progress.

“Well there’s a gas station right there” he exclaims. I explain that there’s a nice malt shop right down the way but he’s not interested. “Hey, you don’t happen to drink beer do you?” Sorry Herman, I’m not buying you alcohol. “Well, can you buy me some cigarettes?” Sure I say.

I get Herman a sandwich a drink and some cigarettes. Moments later he’s telling me his life story. He was born here in the city in one of the nicer suburbs. His parents split. His Dad is a technical writer. They don’t like him hanging around when he drinks.

He tells me what it’s like to live on the street. He’s going to San Diego for the winter this year. “Winters here are a bitch!” he exclaims. I can’t even imagine. He explains how he puts on 3 coats and 3 hats and tries to find a place where they can make a fire. It often gets as much as 20 below or more here (without the wind-chill). Sometimes he can find a shelter but those fill up too. “That’s where the bums go” he says. “I’m not a bum though, I’m a traveler.” And then there are the cops. “They’re always harassing us to move along. If you get into the nicer suburbs the housewives freak out and they ship us back down here.”

Sometimes he explains they’ll commit crimes just so they can land in jail. (He doesn’t admit that he does that but read between the lines).

“You ever going to give up drinking?” I ask. “Oh yeah, someday” he says.

I stop. Somewhere between the sandwich and the stories he’s accumulated a giant green booger on his mustache. Do I say something? The green booger is staring at me.

“Herman” I say. I lower my voice. “You have a booger on your mustache. You don’t want to hurt your chances on the corner.” “Thanks Dude!” He blows his nose and wipes it. Good he took it well.

Herman continues. He was in the Army. He enlisted after high school. Spent some time in Germany. He’s been doing manual labor ever since he got out. It’s hard to have a steady job when you drink.

“Were you ever married?” I ask. “No but I got a girlfriend in the suburbs!” He explains that she lives with her parents and they don’t like him hanging around.

Herman finishes the last of his sandwich. “Well Dude, got to get me back to the corner!”

He thanks me profusely for everything and hurries back to capture peak panhandling time.

Herman, I dedicate this Blog posting to you. Happy travels and Godspeed.

posted in: crazy escapades,guest musings — @ 5:19 pm