This Is a Rant

Okay, so. Like the title says, this is a rant. Plain and simple. It may end up being more of a badly punctuated, run-on sentence than usual. Along with the extra usage of the word “Fuck”.  I’m just telling ya up front. Here we go….

Okay, so. Remember a few months ago, I tweeted and/or Facebooked about how the a/c in my Jeep (Miss Scarlett) went out and how that was REALLY a big deal because I live in South Louisiana and we’re Hell Adjacent and it’s hot-as-balls here starting anywhere from March to June and continuing through about Christmas??  Well, I took Miss Scarlett in to the dealership to have the a/c repaired. They kept her for nearly a week than let me ransom her out for a mere $1600.  I got her home and discovered that they’d not put the dash back correctly, there were some wires preventing me from opening the glove compartment all the way and there was a strange rattling coming from under the steering column.  On top of that (and this moved me to TEARS), they either lost or stole a little gold angel that my Miss Amber had found out on the playground and given me when she was about three. I have driven with it in my car ever since and considered it my lucky charm. Those bastards.  Anyways, I had my windshield replaced and the glass guy was sweet enough to pop my dash back together. It probably took all of about 30 seconds. 30 seconds the dealership obviously couldn’t spare.  Fast forward a few months to our first cool morning. I discover my heater doesn’t work. Now, while we’re Hell-Adjacent, when it gets cold, it gets COLD!!  I’m guessing it has something to do with the fact that it’s 800% humidity all the time, every damn day.  Needless to say, heater is GOOD.  So, we take Miss Scarlett do a different dealership this time and give them a list of the things we’d like them to check out.  We left them TWH’s cell number and went on out merry way.  This afternoon, TWH calls me to tell me the dealership had called with their findings. He began with “Oh my fucking GOD!!”. If you know TWH, this is SO not a good sign. Than he proceeds to tell me everything the actual Jeep dealership had found. #1: The wires around the glove compartment had clips and belonged nowhere near the glove compartment. #2: There are two thingys that make the heater work. Those dickheads didn’t even bother to connect one and BROKE the other one. Nice. #3: (And this is the biggie) The rattling from under my steering column was a loose (as in unplugged) wire that went to something AND THE CLAMP THAT HELD MY STEERING WHEEL TO THE STEERING COLUMN. Yep, Those lazy, incompetent, rotten fucking sons of bitches put my fucking steering column back together so poorly that the STEERING WHEEL could have COME OFF IN MY HANDS WHILE I WAS DRIVING.  This pisses me off more than I can even begin to put into words. Not just the incompetence but the fact that their incompetence put my family and me in danger.  Jesus God in Heaven. My Jeep is a 4 wheel drive and has a high-roll risk if I lose control for any reason. Like say, the steering column fell the fuck apart while I was whizzing down the interstate taking my daughter back to her Dad in Mississippi. Or taking TB to a soccer game. Or while TWH was using it to go get doughnuts on a Sunday morning.  And now I am so horrified and pissed off that I’m fucking crying like a baby. Shit.  The sad part is that other than taking Miss Scarlett to a dealership whose employees actually have a clue about what they’re doing and typing this rant, it’s been long enough that I can’t even really go to the dealership I took my car to in the first place with my grievance and it have any merit. There will be no compensation.  I will take solace in the fact that things were caught in time to prevent any injury or (God Forbid) loss of life and I will never, ever, EVER go back to that dealership again. I can do that. And I can hope that one day I’ll get the opportunity to tell them all to Eat Shit And DIE. I’m not much of a grudge holder. Mainly because it looks like a lot of work and I’m basically lazy but this… THIS I can hold on to for awhile. Maybe not forever, but at least until my stomach stops hurting at the thought of what could have been.  Is it possible to be pissed off and thankful at the same time??  Looks like I’m gonna find out…

Rant update. I took my car to a certified Jeep dealership this time around.  They met me at my car with a clipboard and took notes about EVERY concern I had.  They called TWH in a timely fashion without us having to call them at 4:30 asking questions. They fixed EVERYTHING they found and documented what they needed to repair AND what they did to fix it.  They charged us a reasonable fee and had my car ready by Tuesday afternoon.  Miss Scarlett is mine again and she runs beautifully.  Next week, I’m going to take the paperwork from the Jeep dealership to the dealership that did the “work” before and have them pull their records. We are going to compare notes and I am going to explain to them why they will never see another penny in business from us. I may even work in “Eat  Shit and DIE”. We’ll see. If they won’t discuss things with me, then I’m going to start at the BBB and go from there.  Thanks so much for your concern & suggestions. You guys ROCK!!!

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These Are the People in Your Neighborhood…

Okay, so. If you follow me on Twitter or FB (pretty much ALL of you), then you know I’ve started a new photo series titled Scenes From Tha Redneckhood.  So far, I’ve captured a football goal in someone’s backyard, and a horse eating grass in someone’s front yard. This is in MY ACTUAL NEIGHBORHOOD PEOPLE!!  What I have yet to be able to capture is the Sanford & Son folks just up the block, the little nekkid children playing in a ditch unsupervised, or the folks who ride up & down the street on a little pink Vespa with a toddler in their lap. As I type this, I am listening to the offensively loud bass of the music coming from the people who live behind me.  They are apparently allowing their teenagers to have a party. Complete with a bonfire. Did I mention this bonfire is right next to a TRAILER??  Which will go up like kindling.  AND there are trampolines!!  Yep. The stupidity hat trick.  TWH & I have money on how long it will be until the sheriff/fire department/EMS will show up.  These are the people in MY neighborhood…

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How I Spent My Monday

Okay, so. If you’ve been paying any attention at all, you know TWH & I are in the middle of a DIY frenzy.  Right now, we’re focusing on outside projects because we live in South Louisiana and there is a very limited amount of time you can work outside without feeling like you’re gonna die. Or it’s raining. We spent yesterday working on re-doing our flowerbeds. We got two bordered and have one to go. This is how I spent my day.
First: Took the Crackhaid Dawg to the groomers.

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Then went to the home store to buy some stones for the last flowerbed.
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Now, I had to search for awhile to find the right pattern. Because there are TWO different patterns and I only wanted the one. There were about a gajillion bricks to go through to get my paltry twelve. I got them though.
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Then, I came home, unloaded the bricks, and decided to prime the railings we’re going to put on the front porch.  First, I had to go into our long, narrow storeroom.
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Which holds most of THIS DIY hoard.
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So I could get the painting supplies bin off the shelf & out of the storeroom.
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Dig the primer out from behind all the stuff in front of it & off the bottom shelf.
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And after 10-15 minutes of sweating & swearing, SUCCESS!!
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Yep. The results of my hard work. I did all this, for this…
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And THESE…
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And after several hours, ( all mother fucking day), I had THESE.
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These are just primered but this weekend TWH can use the power-sprayer to finish them off. Then we can get them on the house. Yay!!  Of course, as I’m typing this, I realize I missed a couple of things but they’re gonna be SUPER easy. These railings were tedious because I had to paint all four sides of the stiles and the top & bottom support pieces. The best part of all this is, when Christmas comes around & I’m putting lights, ribbon, & garland on the front of the house in my never-ending attempt to Griswold the place up, I can decorate the railings too!!  Woo-hoo!!

And THAT is how I spent my Monday.

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No, Really, I NEEDED them…

Okay, so. My trip to Montana to visit my Mommy is fast approaching and I am STILL working on my wardrobe.  I have decided I am on a mission. I am going to prove that you DO NOT have to look like ass and wear Crocs just because you’re about to get on a plane. I’m sorry, but I am of the opinion that sweats are acceptable in public for one of two reasons: 1-You’re going to/from the gym  2-You’re on the cold/flu aisle in the Pharmacy. That’s it. Done.  Crocs are a different story altogether. Crocs are a footwear atrocity. WHY would you wear ugly, shapeless, latex-covered FOAM footwear??  I’ll admit, I own a pair of Croc flip-flops. I wear them to the beach, to work in the yard, to slip on when I take the Crackhaid Dawg out, and on the rare occasion that I have to run to the home store in the middle of whatever home project I’m in the middle of.  TWH & I decided we all needed footwear we could easily slip on & off while we’re traversing the airports. This way we can avoid holding up the line removing shoes AND I don’t have to either squat down or bend over with my ass up in the air retying my shoes after going through the metal detector. I decided I NEEDED two things for our trip. Converse slip-on sneakers and a new coat. This makes perfect sense to me. Yes, I own several pairs of perfectly good flats but they’re not properly broken in and the airports are BIG. It would be blister-palooza.  I need sneakers for walking. TWH always says so. So I ordered these:

Navy blue slip-on Converse. Yay!!  Now, coincidentally, I have a pair of Converse for every day of the week. BONUS!!  Now I just need a new coat. I have my eye on this adorable pea coat…  This trip has been a boon for my wardrobe!!

P.S. Those ARE NOT sweatpants. They are grey pajama pants that I shoved behind the tongue of my sneakers so they would photograph better.

P.P.S.  I love how tiny my feet look when I take a picture of them while I’m standing up. They’re actually HUGE.

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My Thursday Coulda Been Better

Okay, so. We now have Wordless Wednesday & WTF Friday so I figure my Thursday coulda been better. Let’s start with work, shall we?? It began, as always, with me getting there first. I did the usual opening up routine and and began the work day. Fast forward to about 10:30. Had a client come in and ask for a flattop. I gave him one and HE FREAKED THE HELL OUT!!  I’m talking full-on-panic-mode-almost-got-to-see-a-grown-man-cry Freakout with a capital “F”. Seriously!?!?!  I’m a barber. I cut your hair. I don’t help you with your deep breathing while you come to grips with the fact that you may have made a boo-boo. It turned out okay. He liked it when I was done with it. Yay.  I continue on with my morning. Cutting Marines hair (it’s a drill weekend) until it’s time to close up for lunch.  I call TWH & tell him to head over to the shop. He picks me up & we head downtown to pick up Cirque de Soleil tickets and grab some lunch. Downtown is a freaking madhouse. Overlooking the fact that it’s downtown & things are usually a little crazy, it was HollyDays. Wheeeee!!  HollyDays is some Junior League annual shopping thingy that I’ve never participated in BECAUSE I WORK; and this shindig is geared at other Junior League types who don’t. This means no tickets today because we can’t even get close to the ticket office. Soooooooooo…. We go to lunch. We go to the restaurant and seat ourselves as instructed. Our perky, young, waitress comes by to take our drink orders. And promptly disappears.  After about 20 minutes or so, she reappears and asks us if we’re ready to order. We order wraps & soup (this is a thing) and she disappears again. About 10 minutes later, she reappears to tell TWH they’re out of soup. We STILL have no drinks. Perky Waitress looks at out table & says “Oh hey!! I never brought your drinks!!  My bad!!” and she scampers off  then reappears shortly with our drinks. She was never seen again. Food comes, we eat, I use the menu & my phone to calculate the bill & tax, I put money on the table we leave. I took an hour and a half for lunch. We went 10 minutes away from my work & I got back with about 5 minutes to spare. You do the lunch math.  Soooooooooo…..  I get home. There’s a frozen lasagna on the stove for me to make for dinner. It’s gonna take 80 minutes. I put it in, set the timer for the correct first-stage time (it’s a frozen dinner with a multi-step cooking process. I’m already out of my depth here) and go play with Pinterest.  The timer beeps & I move on to phase two, set the timer, and go about my business. A little while later, I go to check on dinner. Only to find the oven was off. I’d apparently set the “Turn the oven off” timer the first time. Shit. I re-start the oven, re-set the timer and sit down to write this rant. Next week, we’re having pb&j. That’s in my cooking scope of capabilities. Like I said, my Thursday coulda been better.

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Nothing Personal…Really

Okay, so. I am a total gum-chewing freak. I breathe on people all day at work and I’m convinced that minty gum smell is preferable to whatever I just ate or drank that day. I’ll never forget, when I was starting out, the client in one of my co-worker’s chair looked at her after lunch and said “Tuna Salad huh??”. I cannot imagine anything any more mortifying. Or couldn’t, until today. Today, I accidentally spit my gum out on a client. Yes, you read that correctly. I. Spit. My. Gum. Out. On. A. Client. I have no idea how it happened. I was opening my mouth to respond to something he said and it just FELL OUT!!  Fortunately, I caught it. It didn’t ACTUALLY land on my client, but still…the gross factor is pretty high here. I usually just almost-swallow-and-choke on my gum. This is equally as unattractive as it involved much choking & spitting but at least the gum stays in my MOUTH. The guy was a good sport about it. Because my clients are awesome. I told him it was nothing personal. Really. I’m just a gum spaz. I could give up the gum but the alternative is just too daunting.

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My Son Is About To Be A Teenager. His Days Are Numbered

Okay, so. My son (TB) is about to be a teenager. I’m finding that the closer he gets to being a teenager, the less cute I find him. Don’t get me wrong, I still adore him all day every day. He is my youngest child and the only one living with me. He’s just getting to be a bigger pain in the ass than he was when he was three. Take personal hygiene for example. I stuck my head in his room to tell him he needed to get a shower. Here’s about how that conversation went.
Me: Hey, when you get done making your bed, you need to get a shower
TB: What!?!?!  Why!?!?!  I barely did anything anything today!!
This, sadly, is true.  His Dad and I were outside working while he stayed in his room playing a video game he picked up yesterday. I’m not complaining. He typically does chores with the minimal whining, he’s an Honor Roll student, and he busts his ass on the soccer field. He deserves a lazy day every now and again. The Shower Argument, however, is NIGHTLY. As in Every. Fucking. Night. It’s not like this is a surprise. I expect him to get in the shower and wash his ass every night no matter WHAT he did all day. I’m funny that way. Go figure.  After I took a breath and closed my eyes, I responded with the only thing I KNEW would make him quit arguing.  My response is as follows:
Me: Son, YOU CAN SMELL LIKE ASS WHETHER YOU DID ANYTHING OR NOT!!  Yep, I told my kid he smelled like ass. What can I say??  I have no filter…

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I’m a Freakin’ Supergenius!!

Okay, so. When I got my Giant Metal Chicken for my 40th Birfday, I of course, took pictures & posted them to Twitter & FB.  My Mother posted a comment professing her admiration of Gwenyth  and asked me “Are you going to take her everywhere you go??” Sadly, due to the fact that Gwennie is close to 5 feet tall and METAL, I think the folks at the airport will be less than thrilled.  I considered going over to The Bloggess’ site and ordering a Beyonce’ statuette to take places with me and photograph then it hit me. FLAT GWENYTH!!  Oh. My. Gawd!!  I am a Freakin’ Supergenius!!  It’s be like Flat Stanley but in Chicken form!!  For those of you not in the know, Flat Stanley is a small, laminated cartoon boy who gets mailed around to different schools all over the place. One kid gets to take Flat Stanley around town to “See the Sights” and have Stanley’s picture taken with local landmarks. The photos then get printed out with a brief overview of Stanley’s stay in that city and mailed back to wherever he came from. Or his next destination. I get a little cloudy on that. We never had Flat Stanley visit us. We got the class Teddy Bear once. THAT was a HUGE pain in the ass on a school night, lemme tell ya.  Anyways, I have this stroke of genius that is Flat Gwenyth. I can take her ANYWHERE then!! Into the airport, on a plane, in the car, on a train…  You get where I’m going.  I immediately text my oldest (as in I have known her longer than anyone else) friend Marti and send simply this: I just had the best idea EV-ER!!!  FLAT GWENYTH!!  Marti’s response?? Not one of confusion. No “What the HELL are you talking about woman??”  Marti’s response: OMG…that is a great idea!!!  You’re a genuis!!  For real.   Now I just need a good picture of Gwenyth & a laminating machine & I’m in business. Look for the adventures of Flat Gwenyth coming soon. Her first trip: MONTANA!!

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It’s Finished!!

Okay, so. In previous posts, I have talked about the shower TWH is constructing. I have referred to it as “The Project That Would Not End” and most recently, “The God Forsaken Shower”. I have tweeted conversations TWH & I have had about it. Most recent being the one from this morning when TWH was bent over working on the God Forsaken Shower. Tonight, I got to USE the God Forsaken Shower!!  Yep, I actually SHOWERED in it!!  It was a beautiful thing!!  We’d been working outside and were grubby, sweaty, smelly, and generally nasty beyond belief. TWH put the shower head on, turned on the water and IT WAS BEAUTIFUL!!!  I let TWH go first because God knows, if anyone deserves to be first in that damned thing, it was him. He took his shower, then it was my turn. I have to say, there were tears. I was so thrilled & relieved to be showering in my new shower I actually cried. Then I danced around under the water and kept calling TWH into the bathroom to watch me do stuff like shave my legs without having to plant my knee in my chest and contort myself into crazy positions. All the while singing his praises. It’s finished!! It’s FINISHED!!  IT’S FINISHED!!!  My joy is great!!


The Completed “God Forsaken” Shower.
The site of both laughter & tears this afternoon.

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It’s MY BIRFDAY!! (Also Known as Giant Metal Chicken Day)

Okay, so.  As many of you know, thanks to The Bloggess, I have been on a crusade to be the first of my friends to own a Giant Metal Chicken. I have posted many conversations on here with my husband Shawn (referred to as TWH) about my desire for a GMC and his original shocked & appalled reactions to my request then his eventual resignation to the fact that he was going to have to purchase a GMC just to SHUT ME THE HELL UP. I even did a daily Twitter countdown all this month even though it became a beating for all of us. I NEEDED me a Chicken!!  So, the big day arrived at last.  TWH kissed me awake and wished me a Happy Birthday.  I got ready for work as usual with no mention of my long-coveted Chicken. Eventually, the Crackhaid Dawg made it known that he REALLY needed to go out. TWH & TB were both “engrossed” in something on TWH’s laptop so I leashed up the Dawg & opened the back door to find GWENYTH!!!!!  My Very OWN Giant Metal Chicken!!!!  She was even sporting a sign that read “Happy Birthday Mother Fxxxer”.  TWH didn’t want to spell it out because TB is regularly appalled by my vulgarity & makes it known on a regular basis but it was awesome all the same. After much squealing & jumping up & down with pure joy, I gave out hugs & kisses to my two awesome guys.  Turns out, Gwenyth had been hiding under the carport since last night & I hadn’t even noticed!!  My powers of observation are not great. As a bonus, TWH said he got her ON SALE!!  I told him THAT was a sign from God that he was doing the right thing buying me that chicken. He said it was s sign of desperation on the part of the store owner. We’re gonna have to agree to disagree on that one.  Best. Birthday. Present. EV-ER!!

Introducing Gwenyth!!  No other Giant Metal Chicken was ever so long awaited!!  TWH ROCKS!!

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