Protest From The Couch

I had no intentions of watching the new series on NBC "The Book of Daniel" until I heard on the news that conservative groups were protesting and some television stations weren't going to air the show. Well now, I have a new cause: I have to rebel against the protesters. I told hubby to turn on all the televisions so we could improve the shows' ratings. Unfortunately, we are not part of the Nielsen crowd so that was all for naught. The pilot was long (2 hours) but the show was great. Jesus was so cool. Made me want to go to church.

Sleep Study

If you can imagine what Barbie's arms would look like in a stickup you can picture how I sleep. For some reason when I fall asleep my arms creep up like I'm surrendering (to what I don't know). This has to be the most uncomfortable way to sleep. I am in agony in the mornings: I can't turn my head or I feel like I've got a knife stuck in my shoulder. It is driving me crazy. I know there are all kinds of sleep problems; I constantly battle insomnia, but what the hell is this? I told Otto I want him to tie my arms down, but he just giggles at me. Does anyone know where I could get a straightjacket?

Kitchen Porn

The night before last I was having trouble sleeping so I tried to lull myself back to sleep with the television. I only have sixty-seven channels so I am really limited at 3:00 a.m. I settled on the Food Network because Paula Dean's cooking show was on. Paula Dean is all about southern cooking. Grits and collard greens.

On the episode I'm watching she's making green beans. It is when she starts going on about sauteeing the salt pork in the bacon grease that I realized that her show should come with a MPAA rating. She was just giggling a little too much for me and talking too much about the "tasty" salt pork...

Hmm, this post is entering the weird zone, it seemed much more thought-provoking at 3:00 a.m. Maybe it would have been different if it had been Emeril.

My Dog Is Giving Lessons

...in barking. There is a dog in the neighborhood whose bark is just like hers. I keep going out back to bring her in and quiet her down only to discover she's in the house sleeping in her bed. I think the Pooch is throwing her woof woof just to mess with me.

Overheard: Take Two

How is something only illegal in theory?

The Regifter Grifter Redux

Otto, my little Joker, is not the best at gift giving. Our second Christmas together illustrates this so well. We exchanged the usual sweaters and books and such. My gifts were meticulously wrapped and his were put together haphazardly except for one lone gift in a small box.

The small box was professionally wrapped and from one of the fancy schmancy stores here in Oklahoma City. This was the last gift Otto gave me to open. We were already in the legal way so it couldn't be a ring. Maybe it was a nice pair of earrings. Well, to my surprise it was something even better! It was a gold hammer that had different sized screwdrivers in the handle. How did he know? I love tools!

Christmas day gets going and relatives start showing up. I am showing off my loot and just gushing over my golden hammer. Otto is beaming with pride and I can tell he is pleased with himself. Suddenly the light reflects something on the hammer head; there is an engraving. Upon further inspection I see the initials P.J.A. None of these letters stand for Ceres. I realize I have seen these letters before, it is the organization my husband belongs to: The Professional Jokers of America.

After the interrogation I learn that Otto went to the annual Jokers' Christmas party and they passed these gifts out to everyone. He saw a fellow joker open their gift and he knew I would like the hammer. He thought he could pass it off as an additional Christmas gift for me, from him, wrapped and ready to go. I wanted to bean him in the head with my new hammer.

If anyone intends to regift this year for Christmas or Chanuka please learn from Otto's mistakes. At the very least, read this article for some good tips on regifting. And if you don't have the ability to be sly just don't do it.

Whatnot, Take One

I have pretty much shaken the croup that has had a hold of my lungs for two weeks. The real downside of healing is that my voice has returned. While I was sick I sang Tanya Tucker's version of Delta Dawn and Walk the Line by Johnny Cash to Otto and Pooch. I think Otto really misses my singing. It was the only time in my life that I actually felt confident singing with anyone else around. My baritone was amazing, almost velvety. I got so brazen about my singing that I would subject my brother-in-law to my version of Johnny Cash. Bro-in-law would call and immediately I would start, "I walk the line..." and he would just balk. He didn't think I sounded like him, but I thought I could at least pass for Joaquin Phoenix. Now my old high-pitched scratchy voice is back and I have whiplash from all the coughing.

By the way, Lip Schitck just celebrated her one year in the blogosphere. Way to go!