riley702

Re "gypsy swing": I know it isn't, but this is what I think of. You're welcome.

His pants were down because he was about to get it on with his date, until the cat distracted him. In the long version, you see her huffily putting her clothes back on and glaring at him. Still not sure that makes it better, but I'd prefer devoted owner over perverted owner.

You're supposed to clean the ceiling?!? All the time or was there a terrrible accident?

Not while he was wearing them. He wrapped them up in a spare pair of pants and people snooping unwrapped them. Sorry to burst your bubble. ;)

For Respiratory Care week last month, we were sorting through old pictures taken by the department through the years and found one from the late 60s-early 70s, showing people in report with beehive hairdos and cigarettes.

Good for you! It's deliberately uncomplimentary to the jingoistic, ugly-American crowd. "If you don't like (whatever), you can move to another country! This is America!" Which usually comes out 'Murica through all the frothing at the mouth. This crowd think "This is America!" is justification for whatever nonsense they're spouting. If it isn't a boss, I'd hurl it right at their head. And then say, "You're welcome!"

About 5 years ago, I was fleeing from the old apartment (long story) and waiting for the new apartment to open up, so I spent two months in my brother's half-basement with my cats. They live at the edge of several fields, so mice were an intermittent issue. Mine had never seen a mouse before, so one day, I came home from work to find them slowly following a mouse across the floor that scampered away when I came in. I was disgusted with them, and the next day when I came home from work, I was telling my SIL about this and ended with, "Well, I'd better go see if they've invited him for dinner." Went downstairs and yes, indeed, he was between the dry food bowl and the water bowl, not moving. I grabbed a paper towel, picked it up by the tail and went upstairs yelling, "Open the door! I've got the mouse!" My SIL thought I was being a smart-ass until she saw the mouse. We turfed him into the corn field across the road and didn't see him again before I moved into my apartment.

I work in a hospital and this is definitely true.

The reason I only have glass-doored bookcases. I've dealt with the "concerned food police" at work as well, and have come thisclose to telling them to fuck right off. Another idiot thought she was making conversation by asking me what I was eating - while looking at my plate. "It's a pork chop and green beans - just what it looks like." Did you cook it yourself? "Umm, yeah, haven't had much success teaching the cats to cook for me." (She knows I live alone) Gah! Just talk about the weather or something, OK? As far as "critters" at work, one time a coworker discovered a ginormous cockroach, but couldn't bring herself to deal with it (I'm with her on that one - bugs at home go down the toilet, so I know they're gone). So she put a styrofoam cup over it to contain it, and yeah, it started moving the cup across the floor. LOL. Someone else dealt with it, which brings up another pet peeve: if you're going to kill it, discard the carcass!!! Double gah!

She fed a stray cat on someone else's front step? That's low. And thoughtless. Tell her she has a new cat.

He's already gone. I think you mean boy-dictator Kim Jong-Un? With the seemingly-obligatory dorky haircut?

It is, but it doesn't, IMO, translate to a car scenario because of said implications of what a party in the backseat of a car entails. Also, the mullet is SO over and please God never comes back again, so the comment is at best very dated. Kinda hard to take you seriously when you're apparently still pining for your mullet days.

We always did ham as well as turkey, because Dad came out of the Navy in Korea with a newfound, lifelong aversion to poultry of any kind. He said they fed them WWII surplus chicken in cans that had to have been really bad, because he liked chicken and turkey before that and wouldn't touch either afterward for the rest of his life. I like both turkey and ham, so it was all good for me. We did ham for Christmas, too, and Dad would also have fried clams, oyster soup and oysters in the dressing. Since Dad has been gone, we've gone to soups and meat trays for Christmas. Last year, we had chili, beef and noodles in the crockpot (slightly cheating on the soup theme) and potato noodle soup (the latter a family thing where we throw freshly made noodles into potato soup, which thickens it up like a chowder). Yum!

I've had several cats happily play fetch and I certainly didn't teach them. Swiffer, the little bugger, likes to drop the sparkle ball just out of my reach. And then stare at me expectantly like she thinks I'm Stretch Armstrong. I've also noticed that if she can see it, she thinks I must know where it is, too, like a toddler. And that cats don't understand pointing. She always stretches her nose out to examine the finger. *sigh*

HA! People have been bitching about that one, as one more childhood memory gets turned into a commercial.

And then get verklempt? Yes.

It's Captain Obvious! I cackled.

Scooter, the neutered cat and Give Them Ten are back! Meet Marmalade, the Diva! Also, a series addressing "Moaning" "Stains" Getting a "Reputation" And "Daddy's Little Girl"

(((hugs))) to all my pet peeps.

A lot of people seem to think it's interchangeable with "unexpected". Just because they weren't expecting the conversation to go that direction doesn't mean it was random.

Or spelled "viola".

Oh, that's sweet - and hilarious!

I think I have some sleeping pills somewhere. I've already been up about 30 hours now.

Oh, they're gloating on social media now.

And this morning, I had a small epiphany. I work in a children's hospital and we have one little guy who is totally not happy to be a guest. In fact, as one of my coworkers put it: he shrieks like a velociraptor. That was close, but not quite right. When my alarm clock went off this morning, it hit me: THAT's the exact note that kid hits! Right in your ear as you're doing your assessment and vital signs. And my body reacts the same way as it does when that alarm clock goes off way too early, dragging me out of my nice, warm bed. And that's totally TMI, but at least I'm amused as I head out the door. See you this evening, peeps!