It's a Snack War! Or is it a Snack Store??

You all know that my office* loves its snacks, right? They always have an abundance of cheezits cheeseballs, goldfish, and two kinds of pretzels. Even the clients love the snacks. Well some may say the love for snacks went a bit too far.

First, someone decided we needed healthy snacks. Although, generally a good idea, that meant one of the above snacks had to go because there wasn't enough room. Sadly it was the nugget pretzels and the goldfish. People cried. People wailed. I just thanked God the cheeseballs stayed.** In their place we got a wide variety of snacks that would make their debut every Monday. Yes, only one snack at a time and only on Monday. They would just appear in a basket. If they were good snacks and disappeared quickly, we still had to wait until the following Monday for more snacks. The anticipation and tortuer and wondering was just too much for me to handle. Until the raisins debuted. Then I just laughed dismissively and made myself a big ol' bowl of cheeseballs.

Next came the fresh fruit. That was brilliant. Except it was pay for your own on the honor system and some of the fruit was very expensive. I stuck with bananas as they were only a quarter. Helluva deal folks. Of course, I didnt eat them in the office. I took them home to put them in my cereal. Who wants to buy a bunch of bananas that go bad when you can just get one in your office? My logic astounds me.

Finally one day I happened to look at our vending machine. Yes, throughout this all we still had a vending machine with your usual array of items - candy bars, chips, donuts, etc. Well I noticed it was looking quite sparse:

A closer look revealed that it was almost empty:

When I inquired as to what was going on, I was told that a new company bought the old company but they were in a fight over who gets what profits or something so the old company stopped stocking and locked the machines so the new one could not get in. It was a snack war! I pondered whether there was a snack mafia and whether a shoot out would occur in our kitchen. Luckily, our receptionist packs some heat.*** So there we were with limited snacks and stale chips. This did not deter some people in the office who continued to purchase snacks WAY beyond their expiration date. I then pondered if we would need to call an ambulance. Apparently, though, chocolate never really expires. Think about THAT.

In order to pacify the peeps who were upset about stale chips and nonexistent junk food, the office decided to bring in its own snacks to sell. It started out small:

And then grew to epic proportions:

A partner was overheard remarking "Are we going to install a uscan in here."

It does look a bit like a grocery store, no?

*My former office, but that's for another post.

**The big man is looking out for me!

***The receptionist got a CCW license and started carrying a gun. Try swiping your cards through our secured doors again client man!

Crime Watch Wednesday: You Talking to Me?

This week in crime news we have the man who walked out of a store with two cases of beer without paying and without looking back:

A man walked out of the grocery store with two cases of beer that he did not pay for at 10:10 a.m. the other day. The suspect, wearing all black, was confronted by employees of the store whom he ignored as he nonchalantly walked down the alley.

He ignored the employees and just continued to walk down the alley. Not run, walk. Not much of a confrontation if the other side is ignoring you, is it? This man is all kinds of awesome for a thief:

1. He wears all black like in the cartoons.
2. He doesn't bother with small theft, he goes straight for two cases.
3. He doesn't care if his stolen goods are heavy or awkward to carry. He does not plan on running.
4. He doesn't run.
5. He just saunters away.
6. Down an alley.
7. While being confronted about his theft.
8. He also drinks beer, a lot of beer, at 10 in the morning.

That is why we salute you -

Mr. Sauntering-DressedinAllBlack-Nonplussed-EarlyMorningBingeDrinker!

For you make our newspaper, and the crime watch chronicles, complete. Cheers!

Now Playing the Part of B...

B: Say that you and I went to a concert together...

Me: That has never occurred in the entire time we have known each other.

B: And it won't.

B: But say that we did, and I was behind you wearing an Atari shirt...

Me: Now THAT could happen.

B: Anyway, you came up to me because you were trying to find your seat.

Me: Wait. What? Who are you in this scenario?

B: Oh, I am playing both parts. I am the boyfriend and the usher.

Me: Oh. Right. That is not at all confusing.

Got Any Bat Lately?

Recently, my brother called my Mom to tell her that there was a drawing of a bat at the entrance to their condo community. After puzzling over why someone would draw a bat (my Mom thought it might be a warning that "old bats" live there, whereas I thought someone was trying to use the bat signal to alert Batman to the crime in the area) and questioning whether it was spray painted on, my Mom promptly forgot about it.

That is until my Dad called later:

Dad: You better get your son's eyes checked.

Mom: Why?

Dad: That is not a BAT that is on the street.

Mom: What is it?

Dad: It is a vagina with a penis sticking out of it!

Yes, folks. My brother thought a pornographic drawing of a sex act was a bat. After we all had many laughs over this, we all had a final thought:

Dad: That boy needs glasses.

Mom: Dad, you need to sit your son down and teach him about the love of a man and a woman (or in this case, at least the body parts).

Bro: I was driving really fast and did not look really good.

Me: So, bro, have you gotten any bat lately?

Bro: That wasn't a really good drawing of one!

How about you judge for yourself? **Warning - May or May Not be Obscene Photo***

In bro's defense, he was coming from the other direction:

Um, maybe that doesn't help his defense all that much.

*I was going to post the picture by itself and have you all guess at what it was until B said "the penis pretty much gives it away." Ha! Tell that to my bro!

**Oh, and happy anniversary Mom & Dad. How's this for a nice family post?

What Brings You to These Parts?

I am always amazed at what people search to get to this little old blog so I thought I would share some with you:

"the mad hair" scientology - did they mean mad hair scientist?

Good night words to say to your spouse - usually I say "good night", works like a charm

Who is Badass - my bro is, haven't you heard?

swingers - we have a swing, does that count?

"rule breaker" - always

"seth" and "dani" - sound like a cute couple. Who the F is seth??

3 3 legged midgets in a room with 6 women riddle - how is it possible to have 3 legs?

blogspot of dani girls - there is only one dani girl

can spammers get in trouble - nah! But I bet you can get them in trouble

clown makeup - you must mean my neighbor

dani pitt - someone's living in fantasy land. Brad, you have Angelina, isn't that enough?

cyborg husband - that's B

cookie monster logic - that's also B

discount living room furniture - sounds so seedy. It was just Craigslist people!

eyeful spunk - there.are.no.words

fish mammaries - do fish have breasts?

fort knox conspiracy theory - um, k.

how to solve a case of the mondays - wait until Tuesday

hugh jackman have to pee bad - um, k.

ideas for extra rooms - fill them with stuff and call them Dani's Room of Stuff (insert own name)

rugs - yep, we got plenty. Even some from a - discount store *gasp*

sensing a bad case of the mondays - people just dont like Mondays

porn: thick glasses blind without - doesn't sound very fun porn, does it?
wheres dani - where is that bitch? She hasn't posted since last Monday!

Real post tomorrow folks.

And Then My Cousin Married a Priest...

Me: An old family friend, Father Ed, who married Chris...

B: Who?

Me: Father Ed who married Chris...

B: Have I ever met this person in my life?

Me: No.

B: Then how am I supposed to know him?

Me: THAT IS WHY I AM EXPLAINING IT TO YOU.

B: Who is Chris?

Me: What? Christina, my cousin.

B: Well I didn't know she was married before.

Me: Huh?

B: I didn't know she was married before to Ed.

Me: OH MY GOD!! WHAT??

B: Ed who married Chris?

Me: OH MY GOD!! WHAT??

Me: ...

Me: Listen, when two people decide to get married NOT in Vegas, and they do it in a Catholic church, it is a PRIEST that marries them. Hence, Father Ed married Chris. He wasn't married TO her. OH MY GOD!!

B: You need to rephrase that. How was I supposed to know?

Me: You didn't know that priests don't get married?

*B would like the world (at least the world that reads this blog) to know that this conversation was entirely my fault due to my improper usage of the phrase "married Chris."

**I would like the world to know that I cannot conceive of any time where a conversation about a priest marrying someone equates to someone being married to a priest.

***Oh...and I usually refer to the guy who married Chris as "her husband."

Any True Blood Lovers Out There?

I am getting ready to watch the latest episode of True Blood tonight and it got me wondering, are there any True Blood fans out there in my blogland?

Better yet, have any of you read the Sookie Stackhouse series that the show is based on?

Anyone?

If you can answer yes to any of the above, come share my latest obsession with me!

Oh, and more Eric please.

Seriously Behind in the Garden Photos...

So let's remedy that, shall we? Here, for your viewing pleasure are more garden photos showing various flowers and plants that have bloomed over the past couple of months. Enjoy, so I can catch you all up to the current state of the garden and the yard:

*For those of you that might not know, we just moved into this house in January so all of the flowers that you see here and on other posts were planted by former owners and are a complete surprise to us as they bloom. We consider ourselves lucky that (a) we don't have to plant anything unless we really want to, and (b) they did a pretty good job in the variety of plants so that when one stops blooming another starts.

What Do Suicidal Jumpers, Train, Hobos, Hookers and Strip Joints All Have in Common?

These are all things I encountered on my ride home the one night. Not my usual trip, that's for sure.

Because of a suicidal jumper, the freeway was shut down for over 6 hours. Six hours up on a bridge. That man ain't a jumpin'. What did happen, however, was that my typical 45 minute drive turned into 2 hours.

For the first hour I traveled down a stretch of road spending most of it twittering since I wasn't moving at all. I also talked to my Mom. I then decided I needed another course of action and turned.

Thereafter I passed the area where the man was hanging off, or on, or around, a pedestrian bridge over the freeway. Know what I saw? An entirely different bridge full of gawkers. Um, nice. What do you want to see? A rescue? A jump?

I then traveled through a seedier part of town hoping for less traffic. Wrong. However, what I did find was:

1. 3 strip clubs
2. 2 hobos providing an explanation to the lady in front of me as to why traffic was so bad. Not sure why she decided to ask them. Their answer: "turn BACK" with arms flailing. It was a one way road.
3. 1 hooker/hitchhiker. She glared at me so I did not pick her up. If she had smiled, well...
4. 1 ridiculously long train into hour two

I mean, really, a TRAIN? It actually felt as if I was in some poorly written comedy where the heroine (that's me you know) is stopped at every angle from reaching her destination by whatever ridiculous means the lame ass writers can throw at her - potential suicide (check), freeway closure (check), crawling traffic (check), gawkers (check), hobos telling people to go in the wrong direction (check), hitchhikers (check)....um, what else? How about a train! Perfect.

Just perfect.

Crime Watch Wednesday: It is Not the Wrong Way if You are Crosseyed

This week's crime watch chronicles brings us the story of a man so inebriated and so consumed with the idea of further inebriation, that he couldn't see straight or, apparently, see which way traffic was going:

A man was stopped after driving the wrong way down the street. The man admitted he had been drinking and that he was on the way to get more alcohol. The man also admitted that he was an alcoholic. His blood alcohol level after being tested was almost three times the legal limit. He may be dead.

No, the last sentence was totally me. Of course he is not dead. He is probably free and driving the wrong way down a street as I type. I have a feeling that nothing the man said to the police was a surprise. After all, finding someone driving the wrong way down a street would lead to the assumption they are drunk. Finding out they are, in fact, drunk and on the way to purchase more alcohol would lead to the conclusion that the person is an alcoholic.

Way to go Mr. Obvious. Now, if you could become Mr. Observational and drive the right way down the road, we would all appreciate it.

Better yet, stay off the road.

A PB and What?

Anyone that follows me on Twitter knows that I love me some Potbelly's. And for those that do not follow me, what are you waiting for?

Anyway, I haven't been to Potbelly's much since the gallbladder removal and since I moved to a new office, but when I was going there I found a new/old sandwich to fall in love with - the PB&J. Yummy goodness. Yes it is merely peanut butter and grape jelly on a big sandwich roll, but it is toasted and oozes goodness. Makes me feel like a kid again.

So, one day, while I was sitting there eating my extremely awesome but utterly messy sandwich I find this guy staring at me. He was one half of a couple sitting nearby. After looking right at me and right at my sandwich, he turns to his other half and says:

"What is a PB&J? Is that just peanut butter and jelly? I wanted to try that but I chickened out."

First, what else would a PB&J be? Second, he was LOOKING RIGHT AT ONE so he knows damn well it is just peanut butter and jelly.

He's right though. It must be really scary to try a sandwich that shares the same name as a sandwich you grew up with and should be familiar to you as opposed to, I don't know, something called a "Wreck" full of any number of processed meats and cheeses.

Baby steps, dude. Baby steps.

You May Call Me the Queen of Horror and Open Letter to CBS

Have you been watching Harper's Island?

If not, you have been missing out. The series finale was last night and not only was it exciting, tense, and sometimes puzzling, but...

it also proved that I am the Queen of Horror.

You see, for those who did not follow it, Harper's Island was a 13-episode show involving a group of childhood friends and their families going back to Harper's Island for a wedding of one of the couples. However, for one girl in particular, Abby, it was her first return to the island since a serial killer killed 6 people and strung them from trees, including Abby's mother. The series promised that one or more main characters would be killed each episode and it did not disappoint. It also hinted that the killer was among them. The characters began falling "one by one" in each episode (as the creepy child sang in the beginning) while viewers tried to decide who was the killer and/or killers. It was going to be like a mini horror movie spread out over a season and wrapped up at the end. You know I like me some horror movies.

I named a suspect on the Daemon's TV forums around the 5th episode. (Note: if you follow the link you will learn the plot and the name of the killer). I declared the person the killer numerous times again here, and here, and here. It turns out I am right, so I thereby anoint myself Queen.

For those of you who have not yet seen it and plan to watch it, I will not spoil it for you here.

For those of you who HAVE seen it and want to discuss it and the end, leave a comment! (Note: Comments may contain spoilers.)

And for those of you that like talking about and dissecting shows, go to Daemon's TV. It's a great site that has write ups on all of the current and upcoming shows and no, I am not paid to say that. I am currently following the True Blood reviews. Yes, I am a nerd.

And, now, an open letter to CBS:

Dear CBS:

Thank you for adding Harper's Island to your lineup. More importantly, thank you for seeing it through to the end. I know that it was quite the ratings disappointment which prompted you to move it to Saturday nights, but I, for one, am so happy you decided to run all 13 episodes for those loyal viewers. In fact, I believe those loyal viewers may have turned on more people to the show with each new episode.

There is nothing more disappointing than watching a series with an arc or mystery and getting invested in the characters, only to have the network drop it in the middle due to poor ratings and leaving the regular viewer with no answer, resolution or closure. Yes, Reunion* and FOX** I am looking at you!!***

So, for hanging in until the end....CBS, I thank you.

Dani

*Reunion was another mystery show about high school classmates, one of whom which was murdered, who reunite for their 20 year reunion and you had to piece together the puzzle of the murder and who you thought the killer was. They even waited until around the 5th or 6th episode to name the victim.

**FOX would be the network that, unlike CBS, decided to just cancel the show after disappointing ratings leaving viewers such as myself saying "WTF?" and "I hate you FOX". Well, maybe just me.

***I am still bitter over the whole thing.

Of Cottages, Bears and Kayaks...How We Spent the Fourth of July

Typically, we do not do anything exciting for the 4th of July as B is always working. The fact is B works every day and the summer is his busiest season. Thus, we do not get many trips until fall or winter. Occasionally he can steal away for a day or two but the last time I recall that happening over a holiday weekend was when we first met (which is a whole other story for a different day). Somehow, this year, B bribed someone or something and got the actual 4th of July off. What made it even better is that his parents just purchased a cottage up north. So off we went!

At first I thought I forgot my camera (oh the horror!) but I later found it in my bag. So you get some pictures:

The view from the property complete with the kayak that was purchased the day before:

Some beautiful wildflowers growing on the property:

B testing out his kayak skills:

And later donning a matching hat. Planned?

More view:

The cottage, complete with floor to ceiling windows which are perfect for looking out on the lake, or lounging around and taking a nap (right B?):

Where I spent my time:

Can you see the butterfly? I suck at up close photos. I blame the camera, however:

The former owners of the property, or at least of the dock:

Seriously those ducks would not leave. Everyone tried to scare them off. They would squawk and just come back. B's Dad decided to try out the kayak:

And try to scare the ducks:

Alas, it didn't work.

Later we went to a graduation/bbq and got to see a bear made out of a giant tree trunk. Look how cool:

He was made with a chainsaw by a guy who does it as a hobby. A hobby. Dude, I cannot even hem no sew curtains (again, another post) and this guy makes a 6 foot bear?

I cry unfair.

Only Time Will Tell Unless It's Fake

B, upon arriving home from work at 10:40 am one Saturday, asked:

B: What time did you get up today?

Me: I don't know. Maybe a mere half hour ago.

B: A half hour ago, huh. Are you sure?

Me: Yes, because the fake clock* said 10:20 a.m.

B: Ah ha! So you really got up 20 minutes ago!

Me: Um, no. A half hour ago. Just because the fake clock is ten minutes off, it doesn't mean that time moves any different.

B: [silence]

Me: Are you following me?

B: No.

Me: When the fake clock says 10:50 right now, it is really 10:40. So when I got up at 10:20 fake clock time, it was really 10:10 - a half hour ago.

B: Fake clock schmake clock.

...and B for the win! Really, how can you argue with a rhyme involving made up words?

*fake clock refers to our bedroom alarm clock that we set 10 minutes fast. Really, it is fake time not a fake clock.

Have You Seen Katie?

The day of the big yard sale event, in between driving around town and picking things up that B "spotted", I heard a lot of yelling on my street. Everyone was looking for Katie. Who is this Katie, I wondered?

Katie is a dog.* More specifically, Katie is the dog that belongs to our neighbors across the street. The ones, who if you will remember, had a previous dog that was killed "tragically", but apparently that does not prevent them from letting the new dog roam around at will and get lost. So began a lot of yelling and a lot of searching. The dad got on his bike and took off down the road. On my way back from one of my many B trips, I saw the dad on his bike just moseying along with a slight grin on his face and wondered if he let Katie loose on purpose. Later I heard the daughter standing in her doorway moaning and wondering if Katie was on the "bad part of town"**.

Then Katie just walked right up to the porch.

Crisis averted.

Until the other day when B yells at me to come down and bring my phone. I go downstairs to find him holding a small dog. He tells me he found the dog in the yard and it has tags. I remark that it kind of looks like the dog from across the street belonging to the Goldsmiths. However, I wasn't sure and the tags didn't say. So I call the number:

Man: Hello?

Me: Did you lose your dog?

Man: Did she get out of the crate again?

Me: Well, I don't know about that, but she is standing in my living room.

I then proceeded to give him my address.

Meanwhile the cats are curious, scared and curious. They are intently staring down the basement stairs. The dog is in the living room.

I look out the window and sure enough there is Mr. Goldsmith wandering down the street in the opposite direction from our house, you know the address I gave him. I yell out and he retrieves his dog and says "she is always getting out." No kidding.

And guess who was out the very next day? I predict another tragedy.

*who names their dog Katie? Really?

**the "bad part of town" is a couple of blocks over across a main road. I dont know if the bad part of town is equally bad for dogs or just people, but I am thinking that I would be a bit more concerned about the main road and cars than possible criminal activity.

Crime Watch Wednesday: Twice the Trouble!

This week's crime watch chronicles brings us the story of a bicycle struck by a car. Not just any bicycle, however. This was a tandem bicycle. Observe:

A driver struck a tandem bicycle as he turned right at the intersection. The driver stated that he did not see the bike as it entered the street from the sidewalk. He made sure to check on both the cyclists to see if they were injured. They were not. Despite the rear tire being bent, the cyclists continue on their way, in tandem.

Okay, maybe I added those last two words, but let's review. You could not see a tandem bike? How could you miss it unless when deciding to turn right you only looked left? That can be the only explanation. Knowing the people around here I am surprised that a baby buggy seat thing was not attached to the back thereby making the tandem bike about two cars lengths long. How do you steer one of those things? I have enough trouble with my cruiser.

On another note...I recently spotted a person riding a tandem bicycle alone. Alone! It was the saddest thing I ever saw. It does not matter that the person was smiling. I know in their heart, they were crying from loneliness.

One person should not ride a bicycle made for two.

Fact.