Such a Predicament

I purchased a "Plastic Package Opener" on the Interwebs last week.

You know those hard core packages that everything comes in?  You can't get them open to save your life and you almost always cut you finger(s) on the sharp edges.

I saw this thing and thought, "Genius!  A must have."  I think I may have also spoken those words out loud as I was truly impressed (and I talk to myself way too much).

It arrived on my doorstep this weekend and when I opened it, I was shocked.  Shocked I tell you.

It's packed in one of those plastic packages!  How the hell am I supposed to get that thing out of there without using that thing?


The package designer was obviously out sick the day this was invented.

I'm still thinking about it as it sits on my kitchen cupboard.  Wish me luck.



Do you want a piece of tail?

No, no, no.  It's not what you are thinking.  Get your dirty minds out of the gutter people!!

Somehow, Angry and I got into a discussion about eating a mouse.  I think beer was involved because, really, who even THINKS about eating a mouse?

The question came up, "Would you rather eat a mouse's tail or his legs?"

I'd eat the legs.  They have bones but you could crunch them up quick and swallow.  But, they are small so there isn't much meat.  I'm assuming that if I'm eating a mouse I'm in desperate need of sustenance.  No?

Angry said he wanted some tail.  Oh yeah, some tail!  His reasoning?  He thought he'd be able to slurp it down like a piece of spaghetti.  It'd go quickly and there's no crunchy bones to deal with.  Those bones, he figured, could get caught in your throat.  Choking on a mouse leg isn't a great way to meet your maker.

Bon appétit!

An unintended insult.

I wanted to tell Angry that he was "S-O-L" ("shit out of luck" for those of you that speak in entire words!) about something.

 

What came out of my mouth was "You are S-L-O." 

 

Hmmmm. . . He wasn't too fond of being called slow!

 

I guess if you're going to insult someone it's best to do it by mistake.

 

 

Mumbles or Bad Ears?

I mishear Angry quite often.

I think he mumbles.  He says I have "bad ears."

Due to his mumbling, we've had some interesting conversations.


We were watching a basketball game:

Angry:  The hamster's ready to date.

ME:  What?

Angry:  I said that the score's been stuck on 38.

Me:  I was wondering how you'd know anything about a hamster's love life.



We were chatting about how old and decrepit I was feeling one day:

Angry:  If you were a whore, I'd send you to the glue factory.

Me:  I'm a whore?

Angry:  If you were a HORSE, I'd send you to the glue factory.

Me:  Either way, that's not nice. 


He better stop mumbling because I'm not buying hearing aids (even though I'm about ready for the glue factory!).

Angry's Rules

Angry makes up his own rules.  Especially when driving.

One day, we were sitting in the left turn lane of a very busy intersection.  We were not out in the street; we were still behind the crosswalk. 

Our light turned red and he pulled out and turned!

Being a professional back seat driver I screamed said, "What the hell are you doing?  You just ran a red light!"

His answer?  "I didn't break the law.  Nobody beeped at me."

This is the word of Angry.  Amen.