Funny Text Moments

It’s the time of the year for Jolly Ho Ho’s and this morning I got mine. I was texting with my daughter to make sure she had the details for my upcoming Xmas visit.

Daughter: When are you coming? So you sent me your itinerary??  Right??

Me:  Yes..do you need it again daughter dear? You obviously did not get your mother’s incredible OCD organizational skills or you wouldn’t have to ask that question.  I took that silly OCD test on Face Book and got 100%  I don’t even know what it means but I guess I must be good if I got 100%.  Right??

Me:  So, needless to say my suitcase is full of stuff other than clothes so I will be raiding your closet.  I am only bringing a couple of pair of jeans, PJ’s, and toiletries and the rest I will get from you.

Me:  Oh, and I will bring my own ugirlnderware….haha

 

Daughter: I didn’t think you wore those mother…

Me: Only if I’m going out looking for some hot sex….haha

hotter

Hummm….choices……..hot

Daughter: OMG mother! What’s wrong with you. You are an old lady!!!!!

 

Needless to say, daughter is a bit of a prude with absolutely no sense of humor.  I think I have been disowned.

 

Me:  Actually, I thought I would post the underware thing, and the hot sex thing to my status on Facebook. I wouldn’t want to embarrass you, but it would be so cool to see ‘hot men looking for hot sex’ in my adds instead of Health Food Supplements

suplements

and Blundstone boots! blunts

 

 

 

 

I would stay on FB all day if all I saw were hot men!!

Merry ho ho!!!!!

 

 

Chug a Lug

Most afternoons I have a beer with lime and clamato while I’m in my reader enjoying blogs.  Just one.  Beer that is.  It’s frikking hot here in Mexico.   pacifico

Being an expert in this area, I wanted to share my experience – about beer.

FACT:  I know this to be true – it happened to me just yesterday…

I was minding my own business, reading blogs, laughing at Katie, admiring photos and sipping on my Pacifico….totally forgetting about lunch, totally forgetting about the time.  Engrossed in other people’s stuff.  Not paying attention to my own.

OMG, it’s past 3:00.  I should be in dreamland this very minute.

I should be sawing logs, snoring and getting my energy back.

dream

This is not good.  Doctor’s orders have me in my bed by 1:30.  What to do, what to do….deep contemplation.  If I nap now, it’s more like bed time, not nap time.  Do I really want to go to bed at this time?  If I do sleep, when will I wake up; tomorrow?  Will I have wasted hours of blogging time?  I know I won’t sleep anyway.  I never do.  I’m far to fatigued to actually sleep.  But, I like to follow orders and Doctor says, no exceptions!  Nap every day, seven days a week….  rejuvenate, get back your energy….plug yourself in.fatigue

I can’t nap now, I’ve got half a beer to finish!  Can’t waste it.  OK, it’s 3:30 now.  I really need to do this.  Chug the beer.  No big deal, what’s half a beer.  Chug a lug, chug a lug….that means drinking really, really fast and I’m old and out of shape for Chug a lugs.         beer

Must finish and get into bed.  Must follow Doctors orders.  Must get the fan going, plump up the pillow, get into that meditative state and relax. Chug chug….oooopppppssss…head rush, head rush…major dizzy!

Boxy/botsi meets floor.  That is Bajan for ass.  My ass.  Now, my ass is not a Bajan style ass, it is a North American style ass…..skinny, no padding and the floor is Mexican style….  hard and tiled.  OK, stay down low, head between legs..spinning is receding.  Don’t think about the big bruise your going to have on your ass.  Don’t think about the fact that you could have landed on your head.  Don’t think at all….just get into the damn bed…no more chug a lug for me.

beer2

WARNING TO ALL:  PAD YOUR ASS IF YOU ARE GOING TO CHUG BEER!

ps.  Bajun is what folks living in Barbados are called.  I will be sharing some of my ‘Bajun’ stories in the near future

Woof Woof

I had a personal pet called Mini Ma which means ‘little mother’ in Spanish.  Mini was a rescue dog and came with a few issues.  We bonded instantly and I soon realized that she was extremely intelligent.  Probably smarter than me, and so we started our life together.

Notice I used the word ‘had’.  That’s because I no longer have a Personal Pet.  Over our daily morning coffee conversation last week, Mini let me know in no uncertain terms that she was no one’s Personal Pet.  In fact, she was pissed at me.  She was sneaking around and overheard my conversation with a friend where I was expounding on how smart my PP was and she decided to put me in my place.  After all, all I’m good for is filling her food dish, right?

  • she stopped talking to me
  • she did not look at me
  • she didn’t beg for treats or food
  • she glared at me
  • she ignored me completely
  • she even farted in bed

By the third day I had had enough!  I said OK Mini, what’s the problem?

She said in her very clear doggie speak…..I am Miss Mini Ma, and I am a Personal Companion, not a Personal Pet, and further more, you have insulted me.  I have decided I want my own Resume and I want it published on-line.  I may be looking for new accommodations!

Well, that one threw me for a loop.

  1. First off, how can she be Miss Mini Ma when obviously she has been a mother.  Mother’s are not Miss, they are Mrs.
  2. Secondly, how can she be a Personal Companion when she’s a dog?????  Just because she thinks she’s a human….ha ha
  3. Thirdly, dogs don’t have resumes and they certainly don’t publish them online, no matter how pissed off they are

Again I tried praising the virtues of a Personal Pet, but she wasn’t having any part of that.  She turned her back on me yet again.

Well, now I was getting anxious.  What the heck was going on.  My best friend seemed to hate me all of a sudden.  So, I though why not humor her.  I went online searching for doggie resumes.  I figured since she can’t read, she wouldn’t know if I found one or not.  If nothing else, I would wing it.

Using reverse psychology, I cautiously called out..Miss Mini Ma, putting lots of emphasis on the Miss, where are you?  Where oh where is my Personal Companion this fine morning.  Coffee is getting cold.

Well, she came bounding out of her favorite hiding place, big smiles, ears flapping and lots of licks.  I had been redeemed.  I was loved again.

Whew, thank goodness….back to normal.  Then I saw that gleam in her eyes and I knew I was still on the shit list.  more mini June 17 2013 023

OK, OK, I’ll do your damn resume today but ….. we will not publish …. we will not look for new companions.  You will remain my Personal Companion.  OK?

WOOF, WOOF

Attached find personal resume of one Miss Mina Ma

Miss Mini Ma, Puerto Vallarta, Mexico, Born 2010

Education:  University of Life

Languages Spoken:  Spanish, English

Skills:

  • Ball Toss
  • Prancing and dancing
  • Running around in circles
  • Licking all body parts
  • Barking in a loud shrill offensive voice
  • House broken
  • Sit, Stay, Come….works in progress

Hobbies:

  • Watching TV
  • Running on the beach
  • Playing with toys
  • Sleeping
  • Staring for hours at imagined Iguana’s
  • Crowding mom off couch
  • Crowding mom off bed
  • Dancing with mom
  • Stalking all moving creatures
  • Sniffing everything and everybody

Contact:  sorry, can’t come to the phone right now.

So Mini, that about covers it.  You happy now?

WOOF WOOF

How To Beat the Heat

That’s heat guys, not meat….

First of all, I’m in Mexico and it’s plenty hot and plenty humid.  How do I deal with it?  My recipe for success lies in following proper procedures put in place along with a check list to ensure completion of said procedures…

  • keep all doors and windows closed
  • post sign on door  Image
  • no access, heat stroke victim inside…do not attempt entry
  • giant guard dog on duty Image
  • position chair directly under fan
  • ensure computer is within easy access
  • do not allow guard dog or PP…short for personal pet..opps…sorry Mini I mean PC, personal companion (although she is my personal pet but she takes offense to that title)  access to your lap.  Ignore all sad eyed looks thrown in your direction
  • take off as many clothes as possible and hope the neighbors don’t see you
  • remove all food and perishables from refrigerator
  • fill with blenders of agua fresca and beer, lots of beer
  • take numerous kitchen bowls and fill with lavender water  Image
  • take same amount of do rags as you have bowls, you know, the things bikers put on their heads to keep their locks tidy
  • dip into bowls of cold lavender water

Image

  • fill every shelf with bowls, and more bowls and more bowls
  • apply upon rising….one for the head and one for the neck
  • do not move
  • do not eat
  • do not do laundry or housework
  • use deep meditation breaths and pray for rain

Follow these instruction to the letter and you may survive….or, you could move to a colder climate

Where are my do rags???  It really is the new look and quite sexy if I do say so myself

Image

Any other suggestions would be welcome….

My Thoughts On Towels

Image

Does it mean I’m OCD if I have to fold my towels a certain way?  Or does it just mean I like to be neat and tidy.  What is OCD anyway…one of them new buzz words I suppose.

Having just completed folding my ‘finally dry’ Mexican towels, for the third time, I may have to admit that I have a small problem.  Surely nothing serious.

I think I must have been distracted by deep contemplative thoughts..like wondering if there is a towel graveyard and if so, when should one bury one’s used towels’.

It all began when I took my two towels off the drying rack situated in my spare bedroom, where they had been furiously flapping for two days courtesy of my overhead fan, my standing fan, and an open window.  Yes, it’s been damp and misty here in Puerto Vallarta.

I laid them on the bed and proceeded to fold the first one thinking how much I love the smell of fresh clean towels.  Moved on to the next one.  Completed that little task.  Woops!   I’ve done it wrong.  They are inside out…as if a towel can be inside out for heaven’s sake.  Well, these have a pretty border of flowers running along the bottom and I couldn’t see them. The flowers that is, not the towels.  They were gone off to somewhere land and I  had to start all over.

No problem.  Start over.  One, then two….perfect, couldn’t be better.  Place them neatly on top of each other.  What! how can that be.  They don’t line up..oh no, they are two different shapes.    What strange towel spirit is playing games with me.  Perhaps there is a ghost in my new apartment.  It couldn’t be me screwing up again could it.

I’m starting to fee a little anxious here.  Am I having Fibro Fog?  Did I smoke something I forgot about?  OK, one more time.

Eyes straight ahead and focused.  Folding in half length wise….adjusting edges..YES! we are in perfect harmony…checking for flowers – yes, all lined up.

OK, deep breath, hold it in now……fold in half..flowers showing all pretty in a row.  Both the same, right size, right shape…perfect edges.

Finished, finally, breath released…what now…where do I put my perfectly folded towels?  Oh no, what a wasted effort…I have no shelving for my pretty towels.  Nowhere to display their perfect edges…it doesn’t matter at all cause for now, their home is inside my big green tote that hides behind a curtain in my bedroom.

Image

So I guess that makes me normal, right?????