Crime Watch Wednesday: Perhaps Not a Professional BMX Rider...

This week's crime chronicles brings us the story of a man who does not know the old saying "it's like riding a bicycle" because clearly he is incapable of riding one, at least as a means of escape:

After a reported bike theft, officers found the suspect riding the bike nearby. In an effort to escape, the thief ran into something with his bike and fell off. He was then taken into custody and identified by the victim as the person that stole the victim's bike.

Wait. What? In an effort to escape, he rode straight into something and FELL OFF THE BIKE? Color me confused but what did he think that was going to accomplish? Was he going to claim he was never on the bike in the first place? He didn't even try to run away! FAIL.

However, this story reminds me of a recent conversation with B:

B: I see so many prostitutes on the way to work in the morning, it is ridiculous.

Me: Really? They do like to work the early hours.

B: I see a lot of them get picked up. At least 6 this year. And I am only on the road for like 5 minutes.

Me: Wow. That is a lot.

B: The other day I saw a girl get into a van.

Me: I would make a terrible prostitute because I would never get into a van. You might not come back out.

Me: Hmm...I might not get into anything. I suck at this.

B: Well, they just go to vacant lots anyway.

Me: Still...

B: And their pimps are usually nearby on a bicycle.

Me: Wait. Huh, what? A bike? So what...a guy kidnaps me in a van and my pimp is going to do what? Cycle after me?

Me: Yep, no vans and no prostitution for me.

Of course, THAT conversation reminds me of something that happened at the office recently when I was asked if I knew what "$30 for a half and half meant." After confirming it was a deed done in prostitution, I was asked if I knew specifically what it was. I did not, but I could surmise. My thoughts included...well, shall we say delicately...half manual, half oral? Turns out I was right. You know what else? Turns out the guy that hired me told them that I would know the answer.

I was shocked, then offended, and then proud.

I am still proud.

Half and half for the people! But not for $30. That seems awfully cheap.

Today's Public Announcement: The Murse

Gentlemen: just because your recyclable tote is from Pets R Us and just because it is a tote does not make it any less of a murse when you use it as such and carry it on your shoulder like one.

Man up and get a briefcase!

*I don't know if there is any such place called Pets R Us, but there probably is somewhere.

**I totally chose this cartoon of a businessman with a jetpack so that B would read this and say "SEE! We all should be wearing jet packs by NOW" and then stew about it for a few minutes.

Now We're On Display!

Shortly after I came home the other day to a backyard full of pumpkins, an idea was born. Following our neighbor's advice, B decided to create a display in our front yard. As you can tell, lighting was not on our side. It was almost 7 which means basically dark around these parts. But, I did manage to get some pictures.

First it started with two pumpkins:

But that wasn't enough for B:

Another pumpkin was added into the mix, off to the side temporarily:

While B pondered a strategy:

And then did some heavy lifting:

The night started looking spooky (and this picture is out of order but I am too lazy to go back and correct it):

Until there were four pumpkins:

Then in the daylight the next day, there were six:

Inviting, isn't it? A path of pumpkins to lead you...

That pumpkin on the top is HUGE even if it is all dented looking. B estimates it to weigh 250 lbs. P.S. B is STRONG:

I love the rainbow of colors/shades in this line:

And, of course, since Halloween is upon us, it was time to change the M&Ms:

On a final note...if you have been a reader of this blog for any length of time, you have probably guessed that the display you see above is not the final display. You would be right.

Stay tuned.

*No one stopped by to say anything about our display. Boo to all of them.

**However, B did manage to scare the crap out of two teenage girls that were taking a picture of the pumpkins by yelling from my office "WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING?"

***B then managed to become creepy old guy by then saying to said teenage girls "There are more pumpkins in the garage."**** Uh, huh.

****In B's defense, there are more pumpkins in the garage and the door was open.

*****The girls, however, did not know this.

Crime Watch Wednesday: Go Stick a Muffin in Your Shirt!

This week's crime watch chronicles brings us this interesting tale:

A man took a muffin and two bananas without paying for them from a gas station. He used his debit card to pay for a cup of coffee, however, he had a little trouble when the card was then denied when he tried to buy some maps. As he was leaving, the clerk reminded him that he still needed to pay for the muffin and bananas, but the thief had other ideas shouting "No, I don't!" while running off. He was later detained by police who found the muffin, the bananas, and a few credit card applications in his big bag. He was apprehended on foot in front of another store.

Okay. My biggest problem with this story? Buying fruit from a gas station. That is just gross. I have to wonder though, did the guy finish his coffee before he ran off with the fruit? Because running with coffee is NEVER a good idea. Also, considering he was (1) on foot, and (2) found a short distance away, I am not sure why the maps were needed. Is there some black market in maps that I don't know about?

You know what makes this story really funny to me? It combines two of my favorite things - muffins and bananas. First, the love of muffins comes from the time after breakfast with my Mom when I stuck a muffin in my shirt for some unknown-to-me now reason. I then thought it was funny and walked around like that until my brother exasperatedly shouted "take that muffin out of your shirt!" which just made my Mom and I laugh hysterically. For weeks after that, my Mom would just randomly say to me "oh, go stick a muffin in your shirt."

The love of bananas comes from some video on the internet we saw of some woman screaming and grieving over some person. Although very sad, for some reason it sounded like she was wailing "I want a banana." This turned into "have a banana" for my Mom and me and I say it ALL THE TIME. If she ever tries to say she is not feeling good, I respond with "have a banana." It only bolstered my cure when she had to go into the hospital once and they told her that her potassium was low. See? That was my scientific medical proof that a banana is the cure for everything.

And here is further proof:

Take note.

Harvest Day

That was the title of the text message B sent me yesterday. I opened it to find these:

Remember when he told me he was growing a giant pumpkin? Little did I know he was growing 17 of them, give or take a few. When I got the message I told him I had a difficult time ascertaining their sizes, so he sent this one as a gauge:

Much better than a beer can, right?

That was fun and exciting and I congratulated B on being an excellent pumpkin farmer. I thought about showing off the picture to my coworkers but got distracted. Once I got home, however, I realized I had something much bigger to show off. These:

Yes, there are some of those giant pumpkins just sitting in my backyard.

Look how big!

Look how beautiful in colors. Our neighbor who used to hate us and now loves us came out to say we should do a fall display or something. I was thinking that too. For once, I want to be the envy of our block. I want to the be the neighbor one upping someone else. Yes, maybe I am bitter.

Anyhow, another good way to gauge the size is with a big cat:

Doesn't Chester look thrilled there?

And even more so there. You know what else is good? Gauging it with a very small cat:

Can you spot Brad?

What about now?

There you have it, folks. B's big pumpkins. Isn't he a great pumpkin farmer?

Stay tuned for more gourd* magic...

*I still cannot spell that word. @#%^@#&@

Got Chocolate? How about some Macon?

Remember when I told you that my Mom and I had found a new place for Saturday breakfasts? Well, actually it is my brother. I am all about giving people credit, especially when things go wrong. Kudos J!

Anyhow, the last couple of times that we were there, things had been off. My Mom, who is able to make friends with anyone, had suspicions that the place had been bought based on prior conversations with some of the staff. Sure enough, one of our waitresses confirmed it for us. She did not seem happy.

The next time we went in, there was a name change, and our waitresses were no longer there. Instead of being greeted with "I put you in that booth with your coffee", we were greeted with "how many?" It was quite sad.

But with new ownership came a new menu. Big, shiny and bright. We looked over the new menu for no apparent reason since we both get the same thing every.single.time. (Me = ham and cheese omelette, potatoes extra crispy, wheat toast. Mom = ham, cheese and mushroom omelette, potatoes extra crispy, no toast). Reading the menu caused all kinds of hilarity. Mom first noticed something was amiss:

Mom (in a fierce whisper): Look at the top of the menu on the left. What IS that?

Me: What?

Me: Oh, TREE eggs. What the?

Mom: (giggling)

Me: I think they are supposed to be FREE eggs as in free range.

Mom: I KNOW, but that is too funny.

We then read the menu more carefully and counted no less than 12 errors. Some were typos, some were just flat out wrong. I have seen menus with errors before, but this was the worst I have ever seen. Below is what we found:

~Omelette with Chaddar cheese

~Consuming raw food can cause Foodbome illness

~with a side of macon

~Cornded beefr and hash (no that is not my typo but theirs)

~Side salad with Ramaine lettuce (sounds like an actress)

~Hamburger with Picke

~Hamburger with Cheese c (yes that is EXACTLY what it said. I don't know what the extra "c" is about either)

~Fish and chips with Tartar sauce (yes, please can I have some raw meet on my cooked fish)

~Corded beef and hash (in case you didn't want yours cornded, but corded).

~side order of Cattage cheese (they really have problems with the cheese descriptions

~Pie A la made (well, crap. I hope it is made. It will be messy if *I* have to make it)

~Got chocolate (that wasn't a question, but apparently hot chocolate. I only know this because it was in the beverage section).

After telling the waitress at least three times that we needed to study the menu after having already placed our order, we were through. We laughed so hard that it was difficult for me to type those words into my phone. I would have taken pictures but that would have been too obvious.

Despite the atrocious menu, we did go back. The waitresses were back. The food seemed good. The prices were the same. However, this weekend my Mom told me we would have to find another place, at least temporarily. Apparently our breakfast place is closed for remodeling.

I cannot wait for the Gran Opeening.

*Spell check LOVED this entry.

How to Rock the Family Reunion

Before the reunion, learn your Dad plans on bringing ice cream. To a picnic. In a cooler. Declare that to be overboard and very involved in planning (dry ice, wet ice, ice ice - too much to think about).

1:35: Arrive late. Pretend that you are not late. Shout out "we've arrived" so that people think that you think that you are not late.

1:36: Wonder where the heck all of the people are? Pretend you don't notice half the family is missing.

1:38: Tell them you brought ice cream. Find out that everyone thinks that is a brilliant idea.

1:40: Accept many accolades. Thank them graciously.

1:45: Finally admit it was your Dad's idea. To your Mom who already knew.

1:46: Remember there is no ice cream scoop.

1:47: Tell everyone that the ice cream was your Dad's idea and they will have to eat it with their fingers.

1:48: Text husband. Ask him to bring ice cream scoop.

1:49: Wonder where husband is.

1:50: Wonder where the #@#^@&^ the family is.

1:51: Get distracted by a brownie.

1:52: Assure Mom she is not a jinx since half the family didn't come the one time she decided to make an appearance. Totally coincidental. Totally.

1:54: Hug, kiss, catch up.

3:00: Time to eat.

3:01: Wonder where husband is.

3:02: Declare hubby cannot eat when he shows up since he is nowhere to be found.

3:10: See husband pull in. Glare in his direction.

3:12: See him come in waving an ice cream scoop.

3:13: Whoop loudly and declare him a hero while clapping.

3:14: Family joins in clapping. They don't know why. Hell, they may not even know who husband is or why he is there.

3:15: Eat. And have a brownie.

3:30: Hug, kiss, catch up.

4:00: Watch husband get his ass handed to him by a 4 year old in cow's balls.*

4:10: Listen to the 4 year old brag about it.

4:12: Listen to husband declare they weren't keeping score.

4:30: Watch your father and other adults beat up kids during volleyball.

Well okay, there it looked like my brother was getting beat up.

Nice action shot there. Great poise for a serve A.

My brother sure doesn't look like he is doing much, does he?

Again, with the waiting around. As you can see, that was action packed.

4:31: Take pictures to be used as evidence later. (See above).

4:33: Video it with your camera. (Do not look for a video on this post. See below).

4:43: Remember you don't know how to transfer video to your computer.

4:44: Say that and other things while videotaping.

4:45: Realize husband is oddly silent. Realize he doesn't want to be heard on the video.

4:46: Get distracted by a brownie.

4:50: Watch ice cream become a hit! Note to self: Buy huge boxes of Dove ice cream bars next time, you will be a hero.

5:00: Watch husband decide to juggle bocci balls.

5:01: Caution him about breaking his finger.

5:10: Almost get brained by your husband with a bocci ball.

5:11: Watch it instead hit the metal pole making a bell like sound.

5:12: Watch everyone look at you for a speech.

5:13: Announce "thank you all for coming..."

5:15: Watch everyone realize husband is trying to juggle.

5:16: Watch husband choose smaller balls.

5:21: Listen to them ask why he has his back to them the entire time.

5:22: Assure them it is because you are taking pictures and husband is camera shy.

5:23: Start singing circus music.

5:25: Clap with the family as husband juggles.

5:20: Listen to the family clap to encourage him.

5:30: Watch people leave.

5:35: Play with a volleyball with husband which is more like playing dodge ball, soccer, and football all in one.

5:36: Wonder how many bruises you will wake up to in the morning.

5:40: Watch husband leave.

5:45: Catch up with the remaining family and plan next year's event. Discuss how to coerce, threaten and bribe the rest of the family to attend.

6:45: Arrive home exhausted from too much fresh air and brownies.

Same time next year?**

*I guess it is really called Ladder Golf, but we were playing with children so Cow's Balls sounded so much more appropriate.

**I am talking to YOU family. Yes, you the ones that did not show up. A 4 year old had to play with a...well...not quite 4 year old. How wrong is that? Well, he did win. I guess he's okay with that.

Introducing the Newest Member of Our Family...

Meet Lil' B. Isn't he cute?

Okay, well his real name is Bradford.* B calls him Brad or "cat." I call him Lil' B because he is so frickin' little. It is hard to photograph Lil' B as he is always on the move.

By the way, I recently vehemently said no to a third cat. Many times. So how did we end up with this one? Well he was a stray that my Dad found. Although he was one of a litter, all of the other kittens were killed. My Dad assured me he was the sweetest thing ever. He even let my Dad put a collar on him. I told him to bring him over for a meet and greet. Lil' B never left.

He is very loving. In fact, that is him trying to get some loving from me while I am trying to take his picture. As soon as he gets anywhere near you he starts purring the loudest I have ever heard. He loves to sit in your lap and be pet and will just look up at you content. Sometimes he pulls a Chester and puts his paws on your face or crawls up your neck. Luckily he weighs less than three pounds.

You are probably wondering why all of these pictures occur on our back porch. Well the vet told us Lil' B had an upper respiratory infection so he had to be quarantined from the big boys. As a stray, he didn't seem to mind. He had plenty of food and water. I also made sure to visit him in the morning and evening and play or love him. B (the original that is) would also go out and visit with him of which I was unaware (and after Lil' B became less sneezy and drippy - gross). I caught them outside one day like this:

How could you not love that face? Well, ask Chester and Mooch. They are not fans. More so Mooch then Chester. Lil' B was given the all clear by the vet and we have spent the last two days attempting to introduce and mostly mediate the three cats. Lil' B thinks things are great. Mooch thinks it is the end of the world. Chester is curious.

I need ear plugs.

Seriously. Mooch spends most of his time howling, growling, hissing and running away. This only causes Lil' B to chase after him. It is probably a good thing Mooch doesn't have claws. Meanwhile Chester stays cautiously back and watches/stalks the new cat. Lil' B loves to charge at him only to get frightened at the last minute and turn away. If the new cat is on the move, Chester will run right behind him. At one point I was trying to catch Lil' B who was running with Chester behind him and me behind Chester. Yes, we all ran in a big circle before I realized I was chasing a cat who was chasing a cat. You can call me Garfield. Actually, Garfield probably wouldn't chase a cat but that is the only cartoon cat I can think of at the moment.

Chester will come into the same room and will come near me to get pet if the cat is in my lap. Well, at least until Lil' B bent down and bit his head. Chester looked at him and made this pitiful little howl.

Sigh.

So for now, Lil' B is sleeping on the porch and only inside when either B or I are home to make sure no one is killed. Meanwhile, I am trying not to dream of the howls, growls, moans and hisses that are happening on a daily basis.

We are in for quite the ride.

*Lil' B's name is an homage to the street where he was found.

Follow Up Friday: Yes, Virginia, I Do Have Answers.

So, no one has asked me any questions about my posts lately. Or ever. That, however, is not going to stop me from answering some. Yes, basically I am answering my own questions. Just go with it.

Has B brought home any more garage sale goodies? - Virginia*

Why yes, Virginia, he has. In fact, one day on my way to the office I saw this HUGE garage sale on our street! There was a wide array of furniture and goodies and I was sad that I could not stop, but I had an appointment. Imagine my delight and surprise when I came home that evening to find that, not only had B stopped, but he picked up something. Behold the end/side table that is now acting as my mini entertainment center:

Have you purchased anything at a bargain basement price lately? - Virginia

Why yes, Virginia, I have. Take a look:

No, not the blank diploma! No! Not the bookcase. That used to be my entertainment center, remember? Look closer:

It is a leaf plate! I got it on sale at the grocery store for under a dollar!

What does it do? Nothing. It is called decor, Virginia. It also holds small items like change. At least that is what I claimed it did when B asked. Are you related to B, Virginia?

Have you ever seen a cat fatter than Chester? - Virginia

Why yes, Virginia, I have. Take a look at Exhibit A that was spotted on the side of our house one day:

Look at that thing! It is like a big fat panther in the grass.

A big fat panther with white paws. What? Of course I have a blurry picture from far away to show you the largeness of this feline:

He is almost as big as the recycling bin!

Who is the prettiest fat cat around? - Virginia

Chester, of course, Virginia. Take a look for yourself:

Who produces more garbage - you and B or your 90 year old neighbor who can only take out her garbage with a cart? - Virginia

Strange question, Virginia. However, I do have an answer. The old lady. Seriously. How much garbage can one lady create:

Hers is across the street, our is the closest. The neighbors one up us again! Speaking of neighbors:

Did the long-grassed neighbors ever replace their garage? - Virginia

I knew you would ask this, Virginia. Much to our surprise, they did. They also did it quicker than we thought. First the foundation:

Then a couple of days later - a garage:

As for the contents? They remained outside for a few more days for no apparent reason:

Were you ever able to get over your grief for the fallen sunflower? - Virginia

Yes, Virginia, I did. You see, even though that one sunflower died a brutal death, he left behind a full fledged family waiting to bloom. Here is a sneak peek:

More to come in a separate post. This one is long enough.

That Virginia sure is long winded!

*If I am going to make up emails from a reader, Virginia is fitting. It worked for Santa Clause after all, right?

**If you type a word, such as Virginia, numerous times, it stops looking like a word and you begin to question whether it is spelled correctly. Then you google it and find out you were right. Then you feel stupid. Again.