Wednesday, June 22, 2011

I Am The Boss Of You

Hubby and I are going on vacation...

To a tropical island....

*BRACE YOURSELVES*

With Lou ....

I know what you're thinking.  Because thus far?  These are the reactions that I've gotten when I told people about our plan: 

From my Mother:    WHAT?!  A whole week with Lou?!  If you want any peace and quiet, you'd better bring a BIG ROLL OF TAPE to cover his mouth! 

From my sister:     I hope you and Paul have a wonderful, healthy, and safe vacation. Make sure you keep your eyes open with that crazy, bald bastard!

From my friend:    You're going on vacation with Lou?!  Have you been smoking crack?

From random people at work:    I hope nobody gets arrested!

So, in order to make our trip as restful and relaxing as possible---because GOD knows that I need some friggin rest right about now---I told Lou that the ONLY way we would go anywhere with him is if he signed an agreement saying that he would abide by my vacation rules

He said he WOULD NOT. 

However, his wife, Linda---who doesn't want to put up with his crazy ass all by herself, will force him into it.  I guess that means WE'RE IN BUSINESS!

So, here it is....

Sally's Vacation Contract :

1.  Never call my room or knock on my door BEFORE 10:00am...or, I will stab you.

2.  While in my direct view (or indirect...whatever), you will keep your nuggets, peepee area, and/or their  silhouettes completely covered at all times.  ABSOLUTELY NO BANANA HAMMOCKS ALLOWED AT THE RESORT.

3.  You will not tell random strangers that I am your daughter.  If you do, I will sue you for defamation of character.  I mean it, you freak!

4.  Overindulging in alcoholic beverages does not give you carte blanche to moon people.  Keep your ass in your shorts.

5.  When people ask, "Where are you from?"  DO NOT fake drool and tell them that I took you out of "the home" for a one week family vacation.

6.  If you have to blow gears---you gassy, little bastard---walk far, far away.  You're flatulence smells like an animal died up your butt.

7.  Always chew with your mouth closed and NEVER smile while your chewing.   Masticated  rum cake ....It's gross.

8.  For every time you tell me a story that you've already friggin told me, I get to pinch you.

9.  Manboobs.  Not pretty.  Unless you're in the water?  Keep em' covered.

10.  I am the boss. 

That is all.

Tuesday, June 21, 2011

You're Old. That Is All.

Howdy, Peeps!  I've missed you!

You're probably wondering WHERE THE HELL I've been, right?  Or, maybe I'm overestimating my importance in your life and you never really realized that I've been missing.  If you're part of the latter group, then you'd better hope that I never win the lottery.  Just sayin...

Anywho, HOLY CRAP!  Do I have stories for you! 

I almost don't even know where to begin.  However, I'm feeling like I need to start with a Lou story.  Here goes....

Okay.  So, Lou---El Primo Pain-O In My Ass-O---turned SIXTY on Friday. 

I KNOW...HE'S OLD, RIGHT?! 

Last week, his wife--Linda-- threw him an awesome surprise party where I got to "roast" him.  Actually, not only did I get to make fun of him, but I also got to be the emcee...you know...because I'm so shy and all. 

Shut up.

Anywho, here are some highlights...

Give me a microphone and a room filled with one hundred and eighty friggin people, and there's bound to be trouble...


 

Here's Big Lou, walking into his surprise party.  What a freakin ham...



In order for me to do my portion of the roast, I decided to invest in a visual.  I felt like a "prop" might help me illustrate my point that Lou is a crazy mofo.  So, I ordered this....



Do not adjust your monitor, people.  You are, in fact, seeing a six foot tall Cardboard Lou wearing a diaper.  If that doesn't make you blow chunks, I don't know what will...




Me and hubby with another Cardboard Lou.  This one was much more refined, wearing a suit.  Clearly, I was not responsible for this version.... 


Good God!  Here they are...all three of them together.  That's enough to make anyone run screaming from the room.
I call this photo:  The Sh*theads (Yes.  Those are adult diapers on their heads.)




The Old Goat...getting ready to blow out his candles....




My nephew, Brian, and his fiance, Steph...with Cardboard Louie....Aren't they so cute?




Lou's wife, Linda...telling the crowd how "lucky" she is to have him.  Blechhhhh...Excuse me while I throw up a little in my mouth (Just kidding, Linda!)....



Finally, I just want to say that in addition to being the emcee at the party, I was also a coordinator, a decorator, and part of the clean up crew...AND I demand compensation....

Not in the form of actual cash, but, in the form of psychological counseling.  

You see...throughout the night of the Lou's party, I saw WAY too many tipsy women (AND MEN) dry-humping Cardboard Diaper Louie on the dance floor.

I need help dealing with my recurring nightmares, y'all. 

Thursday, June 2, 2011

Created By A Man? Fo Sho.

Last week, Lou (If you don't know him, CLICK HERE)  popped into my work for a visit, like he does EVERY FREAKIN DAY OF THE WEEK. 

Did I ever mention that he works right around the corner from our business and lives LIKE one minute away, too?  For realz, dudes!  I think it might be time for me to consider getting a restraining order.  Just sayin....

Anywho, on the day of his aforementioned visit, Lou came strolling into my office acting like King Shit, bearing snacks

First, he was all, "Look at what Linda and I bought for Paul at the supermarket!  We know how much he LOVES spicy food, so when we saw these, we knew he'd love them."  Check it...


Then he said, "I didn't want you to feel left out.  So, I bought you something, tooHere you go!"  And from behind his back, he pulled this wretched atrocity out of a grocery bag:


Don't adjust your monitor, people. 

You are, in fact, seeing an extremely disgusting culinary display in the shape of a HOT DOG cake. 

And you can trust me when I tell you that it looked WAY GROSSER in person. 

As a matter of fact, when Lou presented it to me, I said, "Ugh!  That looks fuggin NASTY!" And he responded, "I KNOW!  I PICKED THE GROSSEST ONE I COULD FIND!" 

Bastard.

After Lou left, I stopped to analyze his thoughtful gesture (yeah right) and pondered....

Hmmmm...Isn't it ironic that I was given a HOT DOG CAKE by a big wiener?