All Kinds Of Stuff

OMG!!


BWWWAAAAAHHHHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA *deep inhale* hahahahahahahaha

*wipes tear* haha....ha

I found this blog yesterday and I can't stop laughing. It comes to us via Trouble - maybe some of you know her...she had started this blog and I had NO idea.

Annie is always referring to morons on her dating message boards and what not - and now I have a glimpse of idiotic advertising....or is that advertising for idiots...or maybe idiots looking more idiotic to attract other idiots....hmmm, I don't know....but I'm gonna read every last damn one of those adds because I LOVE to laugh.

Thanks Trouble.

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Our blogging bud Mel in Orygun needs your vote to get paid to blog. Chickie needs some love - so get to clicking on the badge and vote for her - she deserves it.







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Lauren asked me what a "dick" was the other night and almost had a damn coronary. After I could breathe,I was sorely (excuse the pun here) tempted to show her a picture of her father...but she asked what a dick was - not a dickhead. There's a fine line there.

WHAT????!!!!!

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Charles got all mushy on my last night and told me he thinks about me all the time. I told him that plotting of ways to kill me doesn't count. He said that was fine - because he was thinking of ways to maim me, not kill me.

Thoughtful fucker isn't he.

Feet Feet

Connor's vocabulary is finally starting to take off now that his ear infections seem to have mostly cleared up.

It's unbelievably cute.

There are some limits of course...I mean, he's not even two yet.

Almost all the body parts he's got. He can say feet, knows where his toes are, knows what I'm talking about when I tell him to put his arm in his coat and will pull his own hair on demand (what little bit he has), will poke me in the eye while pronouncing loudly EEEEEEEEEEEEYYYYYYYYYYYYYEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE etc etc...but now we're getting into the good stuff...animals.

On our trip to GA, Hero noticed some weird looking things in that big blue thing over our heads and he said his famous words...."What's 'at?" while pointing crazily. It took me a minute to get the clue that the Midget was pointing at - a bird in flight.

"Bird" I said.

"HUH?" - this is also a famous Connor phrase

"Bird" I repeated

"Huh?"

"Bird"

"Huh?"

"Bird?" - okay this is a little repetative.

"Huh?"

"Bird"

PAUSE "BIR"

"YES!!! BIRD!! VERY GOOD! GIMME FIVE!!!" Man I was proud. Little Dude said Bird. "Birds say Tweet Tweet"

"Huh?"

"Birds say Tweet Tweet. Birds sing and say Tweet Tweet"

"Huh?"

"Birds sing Tweet Tweet"

"Feet Feet Mommy! Feet Feet!"

Makes you pause for a moment doesn't it....I am so damn magnificent that the birds sing their praises to my feet.

You may now bow. ...no, all the way down...keep going. Yeah, okay, that's fine...but keep praciticing.

Admit It

I entered the poem below in the AMERICAN MIDOL contest over at Cheaper Than Therapy. It was a competition of crappy poems, and while I agree that several people out there submitted crappier poems than mine - I still don't thing it was recognized as a truely crappy poem - and that's important to me.

Read it and weep - then tell me what you think.


Boy, does Post Partum Depression Suck
I wish I could get mad, but I have no truck
with the doctor, that cad
or the ambulance driver that was, to say it nicely, bad

But next time I'll know what to do
when the mailman tells me "The next Publishers Clearing House winner could be you."
I'll slam the door in his face
and put that sneaky sucker in his place

He didn't profess love undieing
nor did he ever stop trying
he looked at me with eyes so innocently
and I hadn't had any carnal attention recently

So I couldn't resist
and before I knew it I had been kissed
and it culminated in urgent lovin'
and putting a bun in the oven

Now what do I tell my husband true
this baby growing inside me belongs to you
never mind about your vascetomy
I know you've been meeting the preachers wife at the rectory.



Come on now, you know it's terrible. Fess up.

I've Been Gotten

My evil wench daughter knows all about revenge. I've taught her well it seems. Unfortunately, I'm the one she has gotten revenge against.

Damn it.

Me - Connor! Give Mommy kisses.

Connor - No!

Lauren - Say "EEEEWWWWWWWW" Connor!!!

Me - Lauren, don't do that. You'll teach it to him!

Lauren - *giggling* I know She turned back to her homework still giggling.

I rolled my eyes and smirked. "She has no idea how hard headed this kid is. He won't say it just to spite her." I thought to myself, and turned my attention back to the little kid entering his terrible two's who was currently rolling around on the floor giggling from my tickling fingers.

Me - Come ooooonnnnnn Connnnnerrrrrr! I sing-songed and tickled while he wriggled and giggled and tried to get away.

Connor - No Mommy! No!

Me - PLLLEEEEAAAAASSSSEEEE!! Mommies need kisses from little babies.

Lauren - Say "EEEEEEEEEEWWWWWWWWWWWWWW" Connor! Lauren said giggling.

Me - Blond child! (meaning Lauren) I'm gonna put you in the head lock. Lauren giggled and stuck her tongue out at me and turned back to her homework. She was having trouble immersing herself in the wild adventures and undiscovered territory of Ponce DE Leon.

I looked at Connor who had curled up in a protective ball to keep my probing fingers away from his belly, but it wasn't very effective in keeping me away from his ribs, feet and back. I paused for a minute - the poor kid was having a hard time catching his breath. I let him get a couple of good breaths and I walked my fingers up his back and watched him squirm.

Me - Coooonnnnnneeeerrrrrrr. Mommy really needs a kiss. Why don't you give Mommy all of your baby kisses. I couldn't help but laugh. He was curled up in a ball face down with his forehead on the floor and was squirming so hard I was afraid he was going to get rug burn on his face.

Connor - No MOMMY! *giggles* No! EEEEEEEEEEWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW. Icky Mommy! Yuck! *giggles*

Lauren jumped out of her chair with a resounding YYYYYYYYYYYYEEEEEEEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!! and did a victory dance singing "oh yeah. Uh hu. Oh yeah. Icky Mommy. Nice and yucky. oh yeah. that's right. I said it. Can't stop it. I got it. You can't have it. Oh yeah." ...and just for your visual of her - she was dancing like an Egyptian and snapping her fingers with a pencil behind her ear and a piece of apple in her mouth.

I looked at Lauren "I'll get you later Shrimp." I said with mock menace. "Do your homework" and turned back to Connor who was watching his sister grove like she'd been taised. I picked him up and buried my face in his little neck and nibbled.

Me - Connor. I want my kisses, and I want them now little baby. I said softly.

Connor - *giggling* EWWW Mommy. No. No kiss. No.

Lauren - *snicker* I told you.

I'm A Bad, Bad Mommy

Let it not be said that I discriminate. I enjoy torturing all members of my family regardless of age or sex, because I'm an equal opportunist like that.

When Lauren was smaller - about 4 or so I guess, we took her to the Olive Garden after being duly lectured on behavior in a pubic in a very nice restaurant. Why not? She knew how to act in public places, and I had won a gift card for a free dinner so we went.

We were seated in a booth, cool glasses of water by our hands, warm crusty bread in a basket and the waiter comes to our table for our order. To be honest, we hadn't really looked at the menu. We had gotten caught up talking about everything - since we rarely saw each other with our work hours.....and this would be the 3rd time that the waiter has come to our table.


Waiter - Have you decided on what you'll be having this evening?

I look at Charles, he looks at me, I pick up the menu and he shrugs.

Charles - You have steak?

Waiter - Yes sir

Charles - I'll have one of those, medium well please.

They go over the choices for side items and the Waiter turns and looks at me expectantly.

Me - I'd like (what ever it was that I had ordered)

Waiter - And what would the little lady like madam?

I looked at Lauren, she looked at me and shrugged her shoulders.

Lauren - what do they have?

I looked at the waiter.

Waiter - we have hamburgers, chicken noodle soup, chicken fingers....

Lauren - Chicken Fingers?

Me - Yes baby. You like them.

Lauren - No way*shakes head firmly*....and chickens don't even have fingers.

Me - Yes they do Lauren. How else do you think they pick up the worms?

Getting Even

My dear, sweet, would never hurt a fly, Aunt Debbie has egged me. She virtually egged me, but she egged me none the less, so I must, in the interest of keeping the ever important standard of one-up-man-ship - retaliate...and expose her for the hostess of evil that she is.

I present to you - Her Bunny Collection

**Arthur's Note** - All of the Bunnies are real. These are not figments of my imagination or creativity. They assume guises of statuesque cute and cuddliness while I am near, but I know what they are. They may be roaming in your neighborhood today as she periodically lets them out of the house precisely at midnight. If they are spotted, run to the nearest corner and cower there until the danger passes.

First I would like to present BLOODY RABID BUNNY. It's a shame really. He was so sweet and then he went and caught rabies and killed all the townspeople's children. tsk tsk


BLOODY RABID BUNNY

They eventually caught him and this is what's left of him. Ironic justice don't you think?


REMNANTS OF BLOODY RABID BUNNY

This was his younger brother ....YUMMY BUNNY(and friend). I think the picture says it all really.


YUMMY BUNNY (& FRIEND)


I would also like to meet ARSONIST BUNNY.


ARSONIST BUNNY (WITH MATCH)


He comes from a long line of loving and lovely bunnies that we would all like to have over to the house to warm our laps. You may have heard of a few of his kin....there's ALCOHOLIC BUNNY(no picture available due to the massive amounts of weaving and falling over)


MASS MURDER BUNNY (who was eventually caught and stewed)


MASS MURDER BUNNY

and one of the more well known of his relations:

PROSTITUTE BUNNY(alias' include "Hooker Bunny", "Skanky Bunny", "Trashy Bunny", and "Got That French Disease Bunny")- who is almost single handedly responsible for the population of bunnies world wide. Trust me - they don't ALL mate like you keep hearing.


PROSTITUTE BUNNY

I have had to presume to responsibility of protecting all the bunnies in her area to keep her evil from spreading to them all. They even did this for me to show their appreciation of my guardianship.


ME


Incidentally, you can buy the above poster by going here.

...and just in case you were wondering....they made a picture of her too......


AUNT DEBBIE

I'm Human

Hmmmm

Should I apologize? No, I don't think so.

Admit to feeling a little guilty..well, maybe.

What can I do? I just don't have the time, that's all. I don't have time to read all of your blogs.

I'm a bad blogging buddy, but it doesn't mean that I'm not interested. It means that I can't respond to all of your comments because my computer won't load the new blogger, so I have to go to my email and click on the links from there. It means that if I get struck with writing inspiration, then I have to go to my email and save it there under draft and transfer it later. It means that my dial up takes forever. It means that I have to wait for free time at work before I can stop by.

It means that when I'm not reading your blog:

I am working, playing with my kids, cooking dinner, and straightening the pantry and closets. I'm doing laundry, I'm mopping the floor, I'm changing diapers, and catching up on my mountainous reading list. I'm talking to my mother, writing a short story, playing baby games, checking homework, meting out punishment, praying to GOD for patience. I'm screaming in my head, I'm feeling lonely, I'm agonizing over what to cook for dinner and talking to my man on the phone because he's always working. I'm chopping wood, cutting down trees, planing this year's garden. I'm checking the fire, buying new clothes for the kids, coloring my hair and discovering an Undercover Mary Kay agent in one of my blogging buddies. I'm discussing and helping design a jewelry box for Lauren's birthday that Charles is going to build. I'm drawing up plans for a coat wrack, and coffee and end tables that Charles is going to build. I'm taking Charles to Lowes to buy a Router to build all this stuff with. I'm having parent teacher-conferences with my daughters teacher. I'm searching for art classes for my daughter. I'm balancing the check book. I'm grocery shopping. I'm making appointments for work and personal life. I'm answering random pressing questions from both children ranging from - How do we know there's really a God - to - What's 'at?. I'm planning my exercise program and setting goals for myself. I'm stuffing my face with chocolate. I'm sleeping, I'm playing with my children. I'm thinking about tearing out the boarders that we put in around the house and putting something else in. I'm thinking about finally decorating the INSIDE house, old friends, and how badly I need a pedicure and manicure. I'm buying shoes - occasionally for me, but mostly for my kids. I'm drilling multiplication and division into one kid and the ABC's and 123's into the other. I'm fighting traffic, listening to funny noises from the car, I'm buying a new radiator. I'm buying new flower seeds, thinking about compost and praying The Thing (aka the tiller) will work this year.

I'm human.

Don't get pissed if I don't respond to you. I'm not ignoring you. I know you're there and I love it. I visit you, though not as often as I like and comment if I can. Besides, mostly what I'm doing when I'm not reading is having outrageously good sex with my husband....and I like yall and everything....but there is a line.

The Workings In The Mind Of Baby Einstein

CONNOR SAID HIS FIRST COMPLETE SENTENCE THIS MORNING!!!!!!!!!!

He said "Daddy, what's 'at?"

How cool is that? I am doing the funky strut this morning (quite a turn around from yesterday - and thanks to those of you who chimed in - I appreciate the lurrrvvvv)

This is a true milestone because to Connor:

Everything liquid is "Milk". He takes a bath in "milk", he never drinks anything other than "milk" and he even pees "milk". ..and the cup that he drinks out of is also "milk", and so is the cup I rinse him off with in the tub. So let me see here...My son drinks milk from the milk, pees milk, takes a bath in milk and gets rinsed of with the milk in the milk. ...but he doesn't just say "MILK" it's "Mil-milk". What can I say...my child is gifted.

Everything with wheels is a "Truck" (beep beep truck!) It doesn't matter if it's a bicycle - hell, it could be a UNIcycle and he'd still call it a truck. Correction is futile. "Look Connor! A bus!" "No! Mommy. TRUCK!" and in all honesty he really can't say "truck" all that well. He doesn't have the teeth for it yet - so it's really a "CRUCK" - so sayeth Connor and his word is absolute. Sorry yall. You'll have to correct your vocabulary from here.

All animals, with the exception of puppies and kitties (he calls the kitties "Maows"), are "bears". It could be an armadillo or a komoto dragon and he'd still call it a "bear". OH! but we have progressed to "bird" and when the birds sing they go "feet feet".

I'm trying to get him to say "I love you". I'm constantly whispering it to him, calling it to him, telling it to him, kissing it to him...and he just nods his head....like he already knows that I love him and that's all that the universe needs. He may be right...but I can't wait to hear it. He will at least blow me a kiss and I do loves me some baby kisses.

So there you have it folks. Connor is exactly 22 months old today - and he said his first complete sentence. Finally.

Hold your applause please....we're getting ready for the potty training thing.

Nikki's Pity Party - Come On In

I just spoke with my Mom a little while ago and I've gotten semi-depressed (it's just the PMS hormones I'm sure) so excuse me while I have my own little pity party and make myself feel all better.

I miss my mom. I just saw her, but I never really get to spend any time with her. We are never around each other long enough, in an environment that both of us are comfortable in, for us to be rested and at ease and we can just go do something, like go to the bookstore, or hand out our phone number to hot guys leaving the gym. You know, stuff that regular mother-daughter types do. She lives all the way out in NM and I'm here in VA and I miss the hell out of her.

I miss my brother - bitch that he is. He got back from Iraq in November and has now gotten out of the Army and started his civilian job. I've never met his son, my nephew (who is only a few months younger than my son) and I think that just sucks large amounts of ass. I don't have the money to go visit him, he doesn't have it to come visit me, and I fuckin' miss his sorry ass and I'm pissed at no one in particular that I haven't met his son yet. They're in TX.

These two are my only family (this of course doesn't take into account my own nuclear family) and we all live hundreds of miles away from each other, don't see each other with any regularity and I miss the times growing up when we would sit around the kitchen table and talk...even though that was rare for two teenagers ready to get the hell out of the house and their mother.

I want us to be able to see each other at least on the weekends...or once a month, or even once every couple of months - I'd be happy with that!...but I haven't seen my brother in a few years, and I just saw my mom for a couple of days, saw her for 1 day last year and before that she came to stay when Connor was sick, and I slept for most of her visit, and God only knows when I'll get to see her again.

I would really like to be able to go to mom and her husband's house, meet my brother and his wife and son there and all of us grown ups (or those in grown up bodies) to talk about something and nothing and let our kids play and cement familial bonds (though the children will have a harder time at it since they can't have beer. heh) and I would like to do this with some sort of regularity.

I miss my mom, I miss my brother, and I want to play with and get to know my nephew. Little Guy is growing up and I'm missing out.

I'm missing out.

Cause Mom Asked

Okay, my Boo-full Mommy called me and wanted to know how the whole servicing the treadmill thing worked out (other than the deliciously hot service man). I was just going to call her back and let her know, but I know that I was really surprised by the cost of servicing a treadmill and figured there might be one or two...okay fine...ONE of you out there that may be thinking of purchasing a treadmill either new or used and should be armed with as much info as possible...so I'm spilling my guts here in the hopes that it'll help you be better prepared than I was.

I called Sears to come and service my treadmill (remember, my mom gave me this treadmill, and it has been in climate controlled storage for the past couple of years). I choose Sears because when I was shopping for a treadmill just before the whole "Charles has to have a TV as wide as my ass to make him happy and it's going to drain all money out of all accounts" drama, I had gone looking there and they had the exact same treadmill that my mother gave me (incidentally - it's also the very one I wanted, so I was snoopy dancing when I saw they were the same).

They were honest with me on the phone when I made the appointment. Before they booked me, they told me up front that it was $96.00 just for them to come to my house. They made it very clear that NO repair work was included in that figure - it was just for the truck roll. After I picked myself off the floor, I told them to go ahead and schedule my appointment and made it clear that I didn't want any repairs done, I just wanted a service...IE - lube it up and/or tighten the belt, and maybe take a look at it and tell me what may be about go so I could budget etc. They said okay and advised me that the service guy was going to call me the night before the appointment to confirm it with me and that if I didn't answer the phone, my appointment would be cancelled. I acknowledged that I understood, gave them my cell phone number as an alternate number just in case.

Deliciously hot service guy showed up and was very professional and knowledgeable (and I'm not just saying that because I lust after his bod) and he was more importantly HONEST. He impressed me. He made it clear before he ever touched the treadmill that the service I wanted done would be in ADDITION to the 96.00 I was being charged...something that the people on the phone didn't bother to tell me...and the cost of that was 88.00. I almost shit myself....but I wasn't exactly in the position to tell him "Never mind, I'll make another appointment" because they only accepted appointments on Tuesday (a work day for me) and not during lunch or before or after work, and would only give me an appointment block and I had already spent 96 friggin bucks for him to show up and tell me that it was going to cost a MINIMUM of another 88 bucks - so I told him to go for it.

He took the time to go over the machine for me, exactly how everything worked, yada yada and praised the treadmill mom gave me as the best one on the market - wide base etc and said that it was in very good condition. Then said that the biggest draw back at this point was that the chest strap used to monitor the heart rate was extremely inaccurate (even more inaccurate that the things you grab on to to check your heart rate) and if I wanted to fix it, it was going to be at least another 150 to upgrade. I told him forget it, I can take my own pulse.

Then he told me the drive belt was really, really loose and needed to be tightened and it was going to be 50 bucks for that. After much debate, I told him to go ahead and do it, but for him to show me how since it was simple (only took him 5 minutes) and I could do it the next time should the need arise.

Then he told me that the roller was getting ready to go out. He said it wouldn't be anytime in the next couple of months, but if I use the thing with any regularity, I'd be calling him before the year was out to come fix it, and that was going to be 200 - and then the truck roll fee of 96 bucks on top of it, and then he would need to charge me for anything else it had screwed up when it went out. My jaw was hanging open the entire visit with this guy and it wasn't just because he was packing (and I don't mean he had a gun). The bill was getting out of control, and there was no way I could afford it and I told him so.

He was upfront and said something along the lines of "Most people can't and I'm the only one who services these things and I want you to know about cost and maintenance ahead of time because I'm the one who's gonna have to deal with you, and nobody likes a mad woman" I cracked up. He went on to say "Most people who buy used treadmills don't know about the service and maintenance costs, and treadmills aren't only expensive to buy, they're expensive to maintain"

Long story short, I bought a service plan for 2 years and he walked out of there with 435.90 - that included the service plan and all the work he had done (96 truck roll, 88 maint. & service, 50 to tighten drive belt, and the service plan for two years and tax)...and I don't have to pay another penny if I see him again in the next 2 years, and it includes an annual check-up and all costs of parts, labor, and what ever else.

Buy-bye savings.

The Treadmill Is A Go

The guy came out and serviced my treadmill.

SERVICE GUY WAS HOT HOT HOT.

Italian HOT. Jet black hair and BLUE eyes hot.

Oh my. Oh my my my my my.

Shit, who needs the treadmill? He could just stand in front of me and I'd work up a sweat.

Hello Hot Service Guy, I'd like to treat you like an ice cream. *ahem*

Yes, I'm happily married. Shut your pie hole. Just because I'm married doesn't mean I don't look and talk a lot of shit...and if you say you don't you're fibbing.

Expecially after seeing Hot Service Guy.

Jeez.

WOW.

Me likey.

BAD ME.....BAD

UPDATE

Thanks to one of my blogging buddies, I realize that I have been remiss in keeping everyone up to date on family....and that is part of the purpose of this blog (keeping my family up to date on my family....yeah, I make sense).

So, I'm going to put aside the post planned for today and update you all instead (now's the perfect time to slam one of those RED BULL things)

I'll start with Charles...aka Boogerhead, Victim, Slave, Perfect Man, Shit Head or Fuck Face. (Hey Grandma, please don't read those last two). He's doing very well. He keeps his sugar in line like a good man so I don't beat him.....what?.......you know he's scared of me.......I have children and I know how to inflict pain. We are doing very well. He keeps me laughing and we have a good time together.....and then he gets dressed.(on second thought grandma, please don't read this entire paragraph)

Connor is doing very well. He's mid-thigh on me now and is saying so many new words, it's hard for me to keep up. He is such a STRONG willed person. STUBBORN as the day is long. Time-out doesn't work for him and it concerns me that I have to pop him as much as I do, but at the same time I'm glad he's that way. It makes me happy to know that he won't be anyone's doormat, but it sure makes teaching a lot more difficult. He still only has 9 teeth and he'll be 2 in early May. I'm just about to the point where I'm going to take him to the dentist to see if he was born with anymore teeth buds in his gums...I'm really getting concerned now...no, I'm not kidding. Poor kid can barely eat a cracker. He can't chew it. It just sits in his mouth until it gets soggy and then he swallows.

Lauren...I don't know where to start. I had done 6 or 7 lengthy paragraphs on her and deleted them. Let's just say that she's a lot like her mother was at that age and I'm not enjoying it. I would like to send out a big raspberry to my mother for cursing my children to be just like me. I'm on the look out for gray hair.

She is up to my shoulder now and she's only 8 (I'm 5'7") and yesterday I looked at her pants - the ones I had bought her in Dec (they were a little long)and they are high waters....OMG.

In other news.....

I am getting a guy to come and service the treadmill on Tuesday to make sure everything is A OK with it so I can start exercising a bit. I know it runs, I've already turned it on...but it's been in storage for a couple of years so I want to make sure there's no problem before I put my over weight and lumpy ass on it. I'll be going out today at lunch to buy walking shoes and a sports bra (I hope they make them in extra huge - nothing like a huge uni-boob to turn your man on). I went this weekend and got a pedometer....my only concern now is if I'm going to show up on the Richter scale.

The plan right now is to get up earlier and do my thing then. The alarm goes off at 6 am and I don't usually drag my butt out of bed until later - about 6:30 or sometimes 7 when I've been staying up with Charles The Night Owl....but I'm going to have to get out of bed at 5 or so to do this. I'm excited. I'm ready to look great and feel better and have more energy....and to be able to do this with out surgery and crystal meth ....well, it's an overwhelming feeling I can tell you.

That's about it.

Love you all

Angela

Moving Day

The trip to Georgia went well.

We got lots and lots of cool and expensive stuff we would never have been able to afford on our own. I would gladly post pictures for you so you could see my pretty new Thomasville leather furniture, but I've been to busy sitting on it naked, making farting sounds (real and imagined) and leaving ass prints on the cushions. (your welcome for that visual)

We drove back home on Saturday night, and got home about 5:30am. Super Kid decided that he didn't want to go back to sleep, so I stayed up with him after driving all night. Then Charles woke up about 10:30 (or more to the point, I woke him up) and he decided to move the truck (big moving truck - 16fter) around to the back of the house to get everything in thru the sliding glass doors...and THAT is where the problems started.

You see, when we were in Savannah, we spent the days outside in short sleeve shirts soaking up the sun (it did wonders for my psoriasis- practically cleared it up in just a couple of days) and enjoying the breeze. When we drove home, it was sleeting - there was a quarter inch on the ground when we pulled up the driveway...quite a change wouldn't you say.

By the time Charles emerged from the bedroom, we had an inch of snow on the ground on top of the sleet and more snow was expected.

Charles, with is deft maneuvering capabilities did his thing, and promptly got the moving truck stuck in the yard. I don't mean it was kind-a stuck, a little stuck, sorta stuck, can push it out with a firm breeze stuck, that bitch was plain stuck.

The 2 inches of ice that we had had 2 weeks ago had just melted a few days before and then the sleet and then the snow, but it wasn't cold enough to freeze the ground and that big ass truck SANK into my back yard - all 4 wheels, especially the back 2.

He tried backing it out, digging it out, putting boards underneath the back wheels to help it out and he even kicked it a few time and cursed at it in a strange tongue to try and motivate it out...but nothing worked. The only options left to use were:

1 - call towing company to come and pull it out

2 - use his work truck to try and pull it out.

We chose option 2.


You've seen those white work vans around haven't you? That's Charles' work truck.
Imagine if you will, a puny,pasty white van pitted against a 16ft Budget rental moving van loaded with: a fridge, a washer and dryer, a treadmill, a TV, a TV stand, heavy couch and 2 heavy chairs with ottoman (footstool to those folks I grew up with) and one redneck in the cab. That redneck BTW was Charles.


Budget Truck We Rented

VS



Charles' Work Truck

I was in Charles' work truck. He had tied the two trucks together with some straps and chains that we use to cut down trees and told me "Go slow."

So I went slow, slow and steady, and listened to all the creak-creak-creaks and groans from his truck, petrified that I was going to rip out the undercarriage and he was going to remove my ass at the neck for messing up his work truck. While I did that, Charles slammed the Budget truck in reverse and put the gas pedal on the floor....and that wouldn't have been so bad...except that he had the drivers side door open and was leaning WAAAAAAAYYYYY out to look at the back of the truck...and he got mud all in his face and all over the inside of the truck....and that really hampered my ability to drive...because tears blur my vision and I almost lost conscienceness due to my inability to take a breath.

In the end, I pulled him out of the hole in the back yard...and when I went to go look at it...I saw this.....


China