Never fails, you take Drunky Monkey to the beach and he has to ride EVERYTHING!!
DM riding the Ladies
DM riding the Seaweed (Hubby thought this was hilarious)
DM riding the Crab
Sadly the Crab did not want be ridden and there was a fight…
DM is not a gracious winner
Apparently CIA cat is doing her research online.
All I did was Google ‘Cat Butt’ (stop judging me) and BAM!!
But that’s not all… there’s actually jewelry relating to this… JEWELRY!!! (and yes that is a gem stone on the necklace)
And don’t forget your household items…
There is also an online store www.thecatconnection.com that offers items under the title Cat Butt… I may acutally order the magnets, but I draw the line at the cat butts gum… ya gum.
Tif, my good friend and loyal co-worker, and I have a love hate relationship. We LOVE to HATE anything and everything the other one LOVES… follow? Tif LOVES ballet, I therefore HATE the shoes, the anorexia, the tights (except on the guys because those are just funny) and the weird ass tutu’s (even though I have 2 of my own at home). Sometimes our “discussions” can get loud and tend to eventually involve the entire office. So it only made sense that we were chosen to write a movie review for our companies newsletter for… any guesses?… come on… Ok, Black Swan. See you totally should have got that one. Below is what was eventually approved, after some hard core editing by HR. Enjoy.
Tif: I’m not usually a fan of psychological thrillers, but Black Swan is a wonderfully acted portrayal of a prima ballerina’s psychological breakdown as she internalizes her dual-rolls for Swan Lake. The juxtaposition of Nina trying to dance the black swan (and keep the principal roll away from her understudy) and her personal transformation into the darker version of herself was well written and kept me guessing as to what was actually real or just one of her many, increasingly creepy hallucinations. Yes, there were scenes that made me cover my eyes, but overall I think it was a well crafted story with great acting, worth seeing. Also, I love any movie with ballet in it, so there’s that.
Mona: …um wow… well written review Tif, very thorough, well thought out, excellent use of the word Juxtaposition (I had to Google it). But I believe my review will blow away any doubt in people’s minds if they should watch this movie or not… SHE PULLS OFF HER OWN FINGERNAILS!!! No you did not read that incorrectly, not only are you forced to watch this poor girl lose her freaking mind for 2 hours but then she PULLS OFF HER FINGERNAILS!!! Tif I can only assume that this is the part you had to cover your eyes. I’m impressed you stayed in the same room as I would have been in the bathroom by then. Everyone I beg you, do not watch this film… my final thoughts? Blah, ick, and gag.
Tif: Mona did you watch this movie?
Mona: …. no…. SHE PULLS OUT HER OWN FINGERNAILS!!!
Tif: Final rebuttal: You exaggerate. She does not pull off her fingernail … close though … and yes, I was covering my eyes. It’s gross.
Mona: Final Final Rebuttal: You Don’t Know!! Your Eyes Were Closed!!!
Ick, Blah, and Gag
DB in 20 Years
I have an amazing friend… to protect her identity let’s call her … Cheri. So Cheri is AMAZING, funny, hot, kick ass to be around, and president of my wine club, a perfect friend for me. BUT like all amazing girls, Cheri has crappy taste in men. And the last guy she was with was the crappiest of them all… let’s call him Douche Boy, DB for short.
So DB owns a wine café and Cheri being her amazing self suggests that she hold a wine tasting at his café, Cheri’s wine club brings in some serious dough to the hosting spots . DB LOVES this idea because it ties together the 3 things he loves most, wine, money, and hearing himself talk. Now there are many reasons why this wine tasting went horribly, horribly, wrong but I believe it can be narrowed down to Five Mistakes.
Mistake #1 – I, being a loyal friend and lover of the drinky, signed up for this tasting.
Mistake #2 – DB decides we will be tasting some of his favorite wines, and since DB really likes wine this means we’ll be tasting 3 different wines from 4 different regions… that’s 12 wines… ya 12 and DB isn’t pouring tastings, he’s pouring glasses of wine.
Mistake #3 – DB has no intention of letting us enjoy the wine. Now in case some of you haven’t been to a wine tasting let me give you a quick Wine Tasting 101.
1. The wine is poured
2. Wine person tells you a SHORT quip about the wine
3. You drink the wine
4. Everyone talks about the wine… and repeat.
Got it? Good. Simple right? Not for DB. He mastered #1, trust me that boy could pour, but he could NOT get past #2.
He talked for 20 minutes about the color of the first wine, just the color, everyone was waiting for him to say “Ok now drink, enjoy and discuss amongs yourselves.” DB never said this, he just kept going on and on and on, so by the time he finally told us to fully appreciate the granite undertone and take a sip, I was done, not with him… well ya with him… but I was also done with my first 3 glasses. DB looked over at me;
DB -“did you not get a pour?”
Me -“I did… I drank them… they were delicious”.
Everyone else quickly took this as a sign and downed their glasses. DB looks disturbed by this,
DB -“did you get the granite undertone from tasting 1?”
Me – “…ah no, …no rocky in 1”,
This gets a snicker from the far side of the room that DB doesn’t appreciate, but to be fair we all just slammed back 3 glasses of wine and we’re feeling pretty good.
DB -“How could you drink tasting 2 and 3 when I haven’t told you about them?!”
Me -“um… kind of easily, I liked 1, was ok with 2, but did not like 3”.
DB is about to give me a talking too, I could tell, when Cheri suggests he start the pouring of round 2, he begrudgingly agrees but gives me a dirty look, I smile back at him because that’s the way I was brought up, smartassy :).
I’m hoping that DB will now realize that he needs to trim the fat in his pearls of wisdoms and give up on the llllooonnnngggg lecture… but no, no he doesn’t, if anything now he’s more determined than ever to make us listen to him and only drink when he says we can.
Mistake #4 – Two hours later and thankfully at the final round of tastings the group has worked out an ingenious method of finding a way to drink the wine without getting caught and given the stinky eye by Mr. Wine Snooty Pants (oh ya his name got changed after the 8th glass of wine). How it worked is someone would ask Mr. Wine Snooty Pants a question and while his attention was on them the half of the room behind him would down their glasses. That side of the room would then repay the kindness of the question asking side by then raising their hands with a question so the other side could drink. This was BRILLIANT, and I’m proud to say my idea.
But now the problem is we’ve all had our 12 glasses of wine and we want to talk, go home, go pee, or just fall over. But this is NOT allowed by Mr. You Are All Lowly Wine Drinkers And Can Not Possibly Appreciate Wine The Way I Do … oh look at that, his name changed again. So I decide that since I started the BRILLIANT wine drinking method, I should be the one to get the talky on, and the leaving, and bladder relieving, and falling over (which I had done early, who has four foot bar stools at a tasting!), so I turned my back on Mr… what’s his name now? Oh forget it lets just go back to DB. SO I turn my back on DB and start talking to my gal pal Cheri.
But I’ve only just asked her if we can get Taco Bell after this when I hear a strange noise… kind of like the sound a tire makes when it has a leak.
Me -“Cheri is someone leaking? How embarrassing.”
Cheri who is still trying to focus on my face shakes her head no and points behind me. I turn around to see DB standing there with one finger pointed at me and the other pressed up to his lips.
Mistake #5 – DB was shushing me! The entire wine group gasps, they know me pretty well, and a couple people scoot their stools around to get a better view of the show. I was still attempting to grasp on to the idiocy of his move. I turn to Cheri,
Me -“Is Douche Boy shushing me?!”
The outraged squeal from behind alerts me to the fact that I’ve just told DB his full name. At this point Cheri is focused and up and moving.
Cheri -“Well everyone it’s been a great night and I want to thank all of you for coming to this tasting and let’s give Douch… DONALD a big hand for hosting this amazing tasting.” Before I could thank DB properly Cheri had me coated and out the door.
As we walked to Taco Bell I hooked my arm in Cheris.
Me -“That was fun, when are we doing that again?”
Cheri didn’t answer but I could see her smiling and DB was gone by the following week. The wine gods work in mysterious ways.
It doesn’t matter where my cat is in my apartment, the minute I put on a pair of black slacks… she knows . Black slacks are to cats as those soundless whistles are to dogs. I haven’t even finished zipping them up before she’s doing the lambada up against my legs, leaving a blanket of bright orange kitty hair. Where does it all come from!?! I brush her daily, I think she purposely molts just to be able to truly hairfy me!!
Now I’m jumping back and forth from one leg to another trying to keep her away from my pants, yelling out “STOP IT, I don’t have time to lint roll!” or even worse “GET AWAY FROM ME, My lint rollers out!”. I don’t know why I tell her these things, she knows, all cats know that’s why they truly enjoy the dance.
We’ll continue dancing throughout the apartment; while I’m brushing my teeth in the bathroom, packing my lunch in the kitchen, and kissing my hubby goodbye in the bedroom, all the way to the front door. The moment I open the door she knows the dance is done and turns around with her tail in the air and saunters away. This is the equivalent of the cat bow or flip off.. your choice.
My friend Tif has it even worse as she has 2 cats. They’ve developed a tag team routine that renders it absolutely impossible for her to leave her house without being covered from foot to knee in cat hair. However, she’s developed a sneaky alternative, she doesn’t put her pants on until she is JUST walking out the door. This is clever, however I’m so scattered brained in the morning; trying to get my hair to calm down, finding my keys that I somehow lost between the door and the key bowl 4 steps away, and trying to find my phone which always ends up being buried on the floor (damn CIA cat), that I could just see myself flying out the door with absolutely no pants on… really that is TOTALLY believable. And by the time I’d realize my mistake and high tail it back to my apartment, to hide my shame, I’ll have lost my keys again.
No, no I just can’t put myself through that psychological trauma. I will have to continue participating in the Cat Lady’s Dance until I retire from work and no longer need black slacks or my cat dies, whichever may come first… and I can see her living forever just to spite me.
Can you spot the cat owners??
My buddy Rich was quickly approaching another monumental birthday and I was seriously stuck trying to find the awesomest birthday gift ever. But finally after HOURS of Google searching, crying, hair pulling, and wailing… I FOUND IT. It was so simply perfect, I hit myself for not thinking of it earlier and saving myself all this pain (I did actually hit myself, palm slap to the forehead, knocked myself right out of my chair, left an impressive half hand print that took 2 hours to fade).
So what did I find? Beer of the Month Membership!!! AWESOME!!! You have no idea how much my buddy Rich LOVES beer, I mean really LOVES beer, like almost inappropriately LOVES beer… if you get where I’m going. So I read about all the wonderful amazing beers they offer, delivered right to his doorstep every month by happy smiling German girls in lederhosens… ok maybe not but I could let the boy dream. I grabbed my Visa and went to the checkout section and… $260 for 6 months… ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME?!?! I hear beer can be known as liquid gold but COME ON!! Even if they promised there were scantily clad large chested frauleins promising happy endings upon beer delivery I still wouldn’t pay that amount, Rich may, BUT I’M NOT!!
I’m now extremely depressed. I had found the perfect gift and it had been ripped away from me by Capitalist Beer Brewer Pigs!!! But wait… I don’t need them… I CAN MAKE MY OWN AWESOME BEER CLUB!!! It would be seriously cheaper, average $6 per 6/pack per month for 6 months… hold on taking off my shoes… that’s only $36!! HA!!! Kiss my brilliant ass you greedy basturds! (yes I misspelled that on purpose, I’m being funny).
I quickly began creating my AWESOME membership card. It ofcourse had to be AWESOME, plus pretty, plus AWESOME… ok… DONE!
By the way, when you Google image search the words Unicorn and Beer together you get the above awesomest picture ever! I’m not even gonna try to say I created that, but whoever did draw it must be my sibling separated at birth because it’s just SO AWESOME and SO ME!
I also had to create the butt covering legal wording (aka Serious Stuff) for the back of the card to protect me against any awesomely dumb things Rich did while drinking my beer of the month… ok… DONE!
Serious Stuff: Monthly selection will be selected on pretty, pretty label rather than taste. Card holder cannot complain about beer selection as it’s a gift… and that would be rude. If complaint is heard first person to yell “WHINER” gets to take one beer from that month’s beer pack (see serious stuff). Card holder may make a friendly suggestion of the next month’s beer selection, as long as its label is pretty. Card holder is not required to drink all of that month’s beer in the corresponding month… but what are you a pansy? Card holder may give a beer month selection as a re-gift, but don’t let beer monthly representative know, she’s moody. Mona’s Awesome Beer of the Month cannot be held blameful for any of the following results and/or conditions from the drinking of the monthly beer: beer goggles, porcelain god worshipping, public urination, speaking in tongues, cockblocking, bloating, Elaine like dancing, development of a “beer belly”, singing…badly, and crying like a baby, a hungry, angry baby.
… for those of you that caught the Serenity quote at the end, give yourself a well deserved pat on the back, for the rest of you… HOW HAVE YOU NOT MEMORIZED EVERY WORD OF THE GREATEST MOVIE EVER MADE?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?
So there you go everyone, the AWESOMEST BIRTHDAY GIFT ever! Feel free to steal, I would be honored.
Before my hubby and I were married we were ADORABLE star-crossed lovers, separated during our college summers with me home waitressing in Idaho and him home fishing in Alaska. By our second summer apart we decided that I should come up and experience his Alaska… and don’t get me wrong, it was very nice, but there were some experiences I would REALLY like to forget:
Dramamine the devils pill,
Freaking icebergs,
Luggage stealing bastards,
The deadly volcano hike of doom, and
My captaining of a fishing boat.
It’s late and I’m too sleepy to tell all of the stories, but I will give a play by play of the fishing boat incident. It started with my soon to be hubby asking a simple question:
“Are you ready to steer the boat, so the rest of us can get some sleep?”
“YES!!! Where’s the captain’s hat”
“There is no captain’s hat”
“What do you mean there’s no hat!?! How will people know I’m the captain?”
“You’re behind the wheel”
“But what if I’m not behind the wheel, what if I have to go pee? How will people know I’m the captain when I’m going to the potty?”
“Well you wouldn’t be the captain when you’re going to the potty, your only captain behind the wheel, that’s the rule of the captain’s hat”.
“I thought you said there was no hat”
“There’s not, but if there was, that would be the rule”
“Huh, kind of suspicious that there’s now rules for a hat that doesn’t exist”
“Do you want to steer the boat or not?”
“I DO! I DO!”
“Ok, sit here, now see that tennis ball stuck at the tip of the bow”
“What bow?”
“The Bow, bow is the front of the boat”
“Oh… weird, Ok ya I see it”
“Alright keep that ball aimed at that peninsula straight ahead”
“Ok”
“Alright, when we get to the first buoy, before the peninsula, wake me up and I’ll get us into port”
“What?? That’s it? But what about that sonar thingy, shouldn’t I be watching that?”
“No that’s for us to find fish, you don’t need that”
“But what if a really big fish is heading for us and I need to veer the boat to keep from hitting it? Like a whale!”
“Whale’s are mammals, not fish”
“Fine, what if a mammal is heading for us?”
“It wont hit us”
“how do you know!”
“It has sonar”
“Har Har”
So you all read his instructions, keep the tennis ball pointed at the peninsula, you don’t need sonar, and there is no captain hat. That’s ALL he told me. I happily captained the boat (sans a hat) for about 20 minutes. When an oil tanker crossed my path. Oh calm down, it was far off and we were never close to a collision… however, it did create a wake. And let me tell you an oil tanker can sure cause a wake. Now the first wave wasn’t that big and the boat easily rolled over it, but the others were bigger, a lot bigger and I was impressed by the amount of air I was starting to catch for such a big boat. By the final wave, the boat was climbing so high my little tennis ball was pointed at the sun and there was no peninsula in sight. It was at this moment my soon to be hubby came flying through the air, grabbed the throttle and yanking it down to idle. The boat stalled at the top of the wave and easily rolled down over the other side. I looked down at my soon to be hubby panting on the floor and then behind me at the actual “captain” of the boat, both were white and not looking too good.
“What?!”
“Babe, when you come to a wave you slow down, you don’t go AT FULL SPEED!”
“You didn’t tell me that, that seems important, why didn’t you tell me that?”
“I didn’t think I HAD TO!”
“Well obviously you WERE WRONG!”
The “captain” then suggested my soon to be hubby take over at the wheel and I go outside to the bow and they would go by the glacier for a little sight seeing. So that’s what we did, and it was very nice, until I saw my first iceberg and all hell broke loose… but that’s for another blog.
It was a beautiful day, the sun was out, my car windows were down and the radio was blaring as I drove to pick my hubby up from work. I was sitting happily at a stop sign, belting out a little REM, when the “incedent” occured.
A huge, most likely high, man walked out into the middle of on-coming traffic. A tiny woman in a huge suv quickly hit the brakes to stop from hitting this complete moron, bringing her car to a halt with a screech. For whatever reason, this screeching noise brought the stoned gorilla out of his delirium and he looked up at her. He then went crazy, scratch that he was obviously already crazy how about he went to a new level of crazy, ape shit crazy. He raised his arms and started yelling at the tiny lady, pointing to her, then to him, and then back to her. Then gorilla man started walking around the front of the suv towards terrified tiny woman’s open window.
I had been watching this all in a shocked haze but now realized that this was getting serious. And when things start getting serious you have to ask yourself… “What Would Chuck Norris Do”?
Before I had time to really ponder this, a voice yelled out, “HEY DUMB ASS! GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM HER. WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING? YOU’RE STANDING IN THE MIDDLE OF THE FUCKING STREET, AND LOOK DOWN EINSTEIN THERE’S NO FUCKING CROSSWALK… SO MOVE!!!”
…Wow… I was impressed… then horrified… that had been me yelling. “Shit”, crazy gorilla man was now looking at me and walking away from the extremely relieved looking suv woman and towards still kinda in shock me, “SHIT”. Ok Chuck Norris now what, and people I swear to god (or Chuck Norris, whatever you believe in) but that’s when the angels sang and a single ray of light came down on to my side dash pocket and to my pepper spray sitting inside. I closed my hand around the canister flicked the safety off and looked up at crazy high gorilla man.
By this time he had finished crossing the street and was now walking towards my car, but then he stopped, stared at me, and then turned around and walked away. I would like to think he had sensed the power of the Norris surrounded me, but in all honesty I think it was the scary crazy bitch smile on my face. Not gonna lie, I was a little disappointed he walked away, I’m usually a very mellow, peace-loving lady, but at that moment I had really wanted to let the pepper spray fly.
Because you know that’s what Chuck Norris would have done.
Let me just start by stating I’m not a complete idiot… but I have been known to act before thinking. An excellent example of this would be when I accidentaly set my bathroom on fire… along with myself. Let me point out this happened over 9 years ago so you can add youthful naivety to my normal acting before thinking.
Ok, it all started with a smell. You really need to understand how bad this smell was. It was a mix between, wet dog, angry skunk, and two-day old dead homeless man, none of which I had in my bathroom. I tried everything to get rid of it, I even did the most extreme thing, I cleaned! This is big people, as I’m REALLY not a cleaner. But that freaking reak was still there. So I pulled out my old college oil incense burner and guava oil to try to cover the ode de stank. But I was out of oil, no worries I thought I have tons of yummy smelling things in my bathroom I can use in lieu of the oil, SHUT UP!! I can tell you see where this is going!! I know, not thinking it out! STOP JUDGING ME!! So I grabbed my Bath and Body Works Cucumber Melon Body Spray, lit the tea candle and slowly poured a little of the spray into the metal bowl above the flame… but I bobbled… and splashed some on the candle.
Did you know that when alcohol burns it turns blue? It’s quite pretty… and quite shocking. So when that blue flame leapt from the candle all the way up into the bottle I was holding I was shocked and dropped it on the floor; WELL I SAID I WAS SHOCKED!! Now the bottle is spinning around on the floor spitting out little blue flames, setting my rug, scale, legs, and toilet plunger ablaze. “SHIT!” I scooped everything off the floor and threw it in the shower turning on the spray, grabbed a towel and began swatting at any blue flame I could see.
Now there are two important facts you should know about alcohol fire:
1. The flame flickers from blue to white and when it’s white it is REALLY hard to see, and
2. It starts with just the alcohol burning so if you can extinguish everything quickly the damage is minimal.
SO I was able to save the counter top, tile floor and sink, but then my legs really started hurting. I looked down, nothing, oh wait for it, there it was flicker of blue. Ya, in my hurry to save my security deposit, and riding an amazing adrenalin high, the fact that my legs where still on fire had been put on the back burner… literally. Well now the alcohol had all burned off and my skin was getting a taste of flame. “SHIT!” I slammed the wet towel down on my legs beating the crap out of them, which may have caused more damage than the fire in the end.
It felt like I’d been fighting this fire for hours but it was probably only seconds as at that moment every fire alarm in my apartment started going off. I looked up and saw the sprinkler heads positioned next to the alarms. I then looked over at my hubby’s brand new computer equipment lining the living room floor. “SHIT!” I grabbed a broom and started open season on all fire alarms, again with the help of my adrenalin high, I destroyed every fire alarm in my apartment, demolished them to little plastic remnants.
Ok, time for an inventory, fire out… check, alarms out… check, adrenalin wearing off… ow and check.
I called my hubby. “Hey honey, on your way home would you mind swinging by Rite Aid?”
“Sure babe, watchya need”
“Burn ointment, bandages, and a new bathmat”
“…um…ok”
(I should point out that we had been together for 6 years by then so it was taking more and more to really shock him)
My cat used to be cool. She would sleep at the foot of the bed until I got up; proceed to do some kitty yoga stretches and slowly follow me to the kitchen, patiently waiting at her cat bowl for food. Those were the good old days. Now my cat is evil and diabolical. She believes that if she’s up I should be up and feeding her and she has developed ways of making this happen. I bet she’s even named it Operation Get Lazy Ass Up .
It starts basic; she sits by my head, usually on my hair, each morning waiting for the slightest movement to show I may be close to waking up. The second she sees it she attacks. MEOW, MEOW, MMEEOOWWW! Right in my ear and then quickly jumps back to avoid any possible flying missile counter attack I launch at her, calm down people I mean pillows.
Next step, paw to face. This may seem simple but she’s good, she aims strategically. Optimal hit spot one is nose, the cutting off of air flow causes me to open my mouth which makes optimal hit spot two available, she stick her paw in my mouth. People I am NOT making this crap up, it has happened and that gritty kitty litter taste takes 5 minutes of brushing and a life time of gargling to get out.
If paw to face strategy is not working she ups the ante and goes after those that are close and important to me. This includes my iphone and glasses, that are lying next to my head. The iphone is the first to go. This doesn’t always wake me up as there’s usually a pile of dirty laundry to cushion its fall. So next up are the glasses, oh but she doesn’t push them off… she eats them. Nothing wakes you up faster than the chomp, chomp, chomp of $200 lenses being destroyed.
Now if none of these are working she goes to Death Com 1, this is only used in extreme circumstances as it’s SO deplorable and could actual result in physical harm, to her, not me.
She hovers… not with her face…
She will back up to my face and slowly lower her toosh just hovering enough for me to feel her presence and open my eyes to the brown eye moon. I KNOW!!! HOW WRONG IS THAT?!?! How does a cat even know how to do that? Who taught her this??!! By then I’m up, once you’ve seen that there is NO WAY you are closing your eyes EVER again.
But That's For Another Blog 