Excellent football movies to watch now that high school and college seasons are over, except for the college bowl games: When the Game Stands Tall. Out-fucking-standing movie. The Blind Side. The Waterboy.
Speaking of movies, watch Dallas Buyer's Club and insert the word cancer for the word AIDS. Maybe then you'll better understand my Pinterest board, A Valid Option.
Moving on to the other assorted oddities part of this post, I give you...well, I'm not sure what to call it.
B and I were out and about last week and looking at furniture since we need a new sofa, couch, chesterfield, or davenport, whatever the fuck you want to call it.
We're at a particular furniture store where we'd been looking and discussing and discussing and looking. Some other customers came in. The sales lady excused herself to go speak with them and then eventually came back and mentioned to me that this particular couple was really funny and the wife owns a bra store and if I needed any bras, she suggested going to that woman's particular store.
I started laughing and I damn near broke a rib because I was laughing so hard. I laughed myself silly and when I could finally breathe, I pulled my shirt front out and said "I had a bilateral mastectomy and have nothing but skin over ribs on the entire upper third of my chest, so bras are a non-essential for me, but thanks for the suggestion."
The look on her face was a combination of appalled, horrified, and unsure if she should laugh or not because I was laughing. She said she hadn't noticed and never would have if I hadn't mentioned it to her.
We discussed breast cancer for a few minutes and then moved on to other topics.
True story, that.
Here's another one.
I used to have the most wonderful cat. His name was Tigger. No, I didn't name him that, he was already named that when we got him as a free to a good home ad in the newspaper. He would like just a tiny drop of milk each morning, loved his Tigger Treats, and he never was much interested in catnip or canned cat food, but he did love drinking tree water each year in December. He crossed the Rainbow Bridge a year ago in October. I have his ashes on the speaker by the bedroom door. In the new house, he will go on top of the mantle, right in the center. I still miss him. He made the move with us from Mississippi to Florida to Alabama to Oklahoma. He would ride on the console after making sure his humans were in the vehicle.
We acquired another cat from a shelter. This cat didn't particularly know or care that he was a cat and exhibited minimal behavior of a cat. Didn't know how to purr, didn't really groom himself, didn't know what treats were, didn't know what the hell milk was, didn't give a rat's ass about canned food and had no interest in treats. He was litter trained, would eat and drink, and wanted to constantly pounce on anything that moved. It turned out he was more like a teenager kitty and not an adult kitty. Since we had drive three and a half hours one way to acquire him in another state, we figured we'd keep him and maybe get him another cat to play with.
Second cat we acquired was from a more local shelter and as an adult. She has taught the boy cat how to groom himself, although she grooms him more than he grooms himself, and she loves treats. He will eat one just because he sees her eating one, though. She loves canned food and if a can is opened, no matter where she is in the house or what she's doing, she comes running to the kitchen and of course, he's learned that behavior, so they turn into floor buzzards when the can opener gets used.
Boy cat does purr on occasion now and does tolerate being held now, which is good. He wants to be held on his back like a baby, though. We have no idea what that's about. He does love to chase girl cat and they are both drinking tree water for fun.
Girl cat is lactose intolerant. I gave her a drop of milk. She barfed. A few days later, I tried again. She barfed again. I waited a month. Tried once more with just a drop of milk, mind you. Boy cat still doesn't gaf and girl cat barfed, so I have a lactose intolerant cat. It's like dealing with an addict every time I fix coffee. She begs for milk because I put milk in my coffee. Actually, she damn near throws a fit for the milk, but I don't give it to her because she'll barf.
She also loves feet, my boots, and drools while purring. I guess she never learned how to purr without drooling. Boy cat doesn't seem to drool, though.
Cats are entertaining, that's for damn sure.
Solidea Medical is having a contest, located here, if anyone is paying attention to anything I post. They haven't updated their winner list for the past few days, but they probably will tomorrow. I won, so it's definitely a legit contest; if you're in the market for a out-fucking-standing compression garment and possibly even winning one, you might want to pop over to Solidea Medical and see what they are doing with their contest.
Speaking of movies, watch Dallas Buyer's Club and insert the word cancer for the word AIDS. Maybe then you'll better understand my Pinterest board, A Valid Option.
Moving on to the other assorted oddities part of this post, I give you...well, I'm not sure what to call it.
B and I were out and about last week and looking at furniture since we need a new sofa, couch, chesterfield, or davenport, whatever the fuck you want to call it.
We're at a particular furniture store where we'd been looking and discussing and discussing and looking. Some other customers came in. The sales lady excused herself to go speak with them and then eventually came back and mentioned to me that this particular couple was really funny and the wife owns a bra store and if I needed any bras, she suggested going to that woman's particular store.
I started laughing and I damn near broke a rib because I was laughing so hard. I laughed myself silly and when I could finally breathe, I pulled my shirt front out and said "I had a bilateral mastectomy and have nothing but skin over ribs on the entire upper third of my chest, so bras are a non-essential for me, but thanks for the suggestion."
The look on her face was a combination of appalled, horrified, and unsure if she should laugh or not because I was laughing. She said she hadn't noticed and never would have if I hadn't mentioned it to her.
We discussed breast cancer for a few minutes and then moved on to other topics.
True story, that.
Here's another one.
I used to have the most wonderful cat. His name was Tigger. No, I didn't name him that, he was already named that when we got him as a free to a good home ad in the newspaper. He would like just a tiny drop of milk each morning, loved his Tigger Treats, and he never was much interested in catnip or canned cat food, but he did love drinking tree water each year in December. He crossed the Rainbow Bridge a year ago in October. I have his ashes on the speaker by the bedroom door. In the new house, he will go on top of the mantle, right in the center. I still miss him. He made the move with us from Mississippi to Florida to Alabama to Oklahoma. He would ride on the console after making sure his humans were in the vehicle.
We acquired another cat from a shelter. This cat didn't particularly know or care that he was a cat and exhibited minimal behavior of a cat. Didn't know how to purr, didn't really groom himself, didn't know what treats were, didn't know what the hell milk was, didn't give a rat's ass about canned food and had no interest in treats. He was litter trained, would eat and drink, and wanted to constantly pounce on anything that moved. It turned out he was more like a teenager kitty and not an adult kitty. Since we had drive three and a half hours one way to acquire him in another state, we figured we'd keep him and maybe get him another cat to play with.
Second cat we acquired was from a more local shelter and as an adult. She has taught the boy cat how to groom himself, although she grooms him more than he grooms himself, and she loves treats. He will eat one just because he sees her eating one, though. She loves canned food and if a can is opened, no matter where she is in the house or what she's doing, she comes running to the kitchen and of course, he's learned that behavior, so they turn into floor buzzards when the can opener gets used.
Boy cat does purr on occasion now and does tolerate being held now, which is good. He wants to be held on his back like a baby, though. We have no idea what that's about. He does love to chase girl cat and they are both drinking tree water for fun.
Girl cat is lactose intolerant. I gave her a drop of milk. She barfed. A few days later, I tried again. She barfed again. I waited a month. Tried once more with just a drop of milk, mind you. Boy cat still doesn't gaf and girl cat barfed, so I have a lactose intolerant cat. It's like dealing with an addict every time I fix coffee. She begs for milk because I put milk in my coffee. Actually, she damn near throws a fit for the milk, but I don't give it to her because she'll barf.
She also loves feet, my boots, and drools while purring. I guess she never learned how to purr without drooling. Boy cat doesn't seem to drool, though.
Cats are entertaining, that's for damn sure.
Solidea Medical is having a contest, located here, if anyone is paying attention to anything I post. They haven't updated their winner list for the past few days, but they probably will tomorrow. I won, so it's definitely a legit contest; if you're in the market for a out-fucking-standing compression garment and possibly even winning one, you might want to pop over to Solidea Medical and see what they are doing with their contest.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Thank you. I apologize for the lack of a reply to the comment/s you have left, however every time I attempt to reply to a comment someone has left, blogger eats my reply. This is something I have yet to figure out how to fix. Thank you for your time.
Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.