It's So Sad

It's so sad when elderly cars go missing.
This wasn't the easiest picture to take, careening down the freeway such as I was. So for those who can't read the blur, it says: "MISSING ELDERLY GOLD CHRYS 300" followed by the license plate number.

Such a tragedy. One moment these elderly cars are living out their twilight years enjoying a life well lived. The next they're missing, kidnapped or worse! Then again, maybe the poor thing just ran away.

(Just wanted to add - I really do think this sign was advertising an elderly missing PERSON driving a quite possibly an elderly car, only because these signs generally only used for freeway problems or Amber Alerts. I think it was just poorly worded. I could be wrong though. I discussed it at length with my parents and my dad doesn't seem to feel it's as cut & dried as it seems.)

I Ate This Guy Yesterday

Ok, so I didn't eat HIM, but I probably ate his third cousin twice removed or maybe his niece or nephew. The-guy-who-knows-a-song-about-a-chicken likes to order food adventurously, so when we found ourselves in a Cuban restaurant faced with the opportunity to eat an animal in a sauce made of its own excrement, apparently his first thought was "Yum!"

I was a little more hesitant but I shrugged thinking, "There are plenty of foods that taste better than they look or sound. Sure (another shrug), why not?" Here's what that cute little sucker looks like cooked up in his own ink:

My mom said "It looks like a octopus without tentacles." I quietly told The-guy-who-knows-a-song-about-a-chicken that it looked more like a testicle without an octopus.

But y'know, either way, what it looked like was not the point! The point was, it was stuffed with ONIONS! I mean, animals that look like testicles, okay. Onions ICK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Still, I just steered clear of the stuffing and it was...ok. Not fantabulous or anything. But not so bad either - a definite end to the search for anyone seeking food shaped like body parts swimming in its own juice.

How to Accidentally Get a Coworker to Let you Get Some Actual Work Done

My coteacher taught me how to politely tell someone that although we would LOVE to chat (Really, we would! We're way better at chatting than working), we have an ungodly amount of work to do and not enough time to do it. What is this method that works like a charm each and every time?

"Just start talking about your vagina. They all leave."

In our case it went something like this. Laurie and me are the ones freaking out about how much work we need to get done in a very short amount of time:

Barbara - "And I used such and such a sauce on the fish..."

Laurie - "I think I'm going to start doing vaginal exercises."

Me (pointing at our work on the computer) - "That's a great idea! We can do that WHILE we work!"

Laurie - "You're supposed to stop your urine midstream."

Me - "You don't have to have real urine. We can type and pretend to be stopping our urine. It's still vaginal exercise."

Barbara (waving as she walks out the door) - "Ok. See you guys!"

Lactating Men and Prostitutes Need Not Apply

Did they have to kick out the daddies for leering?

Was there a mad rush of men enrolling in order to gawk at pregnant people boobies?

Were the lactating men filling the classes leaving not enough room for the would be nursing mothers whose unfortunate babies were then left starving?

Exactly how much of a lady does one have to be? Are high heels a requirement? What about pantyhose? Are people kicked out of class for sitting with their legs spread apart or making a joke about bodily functions? What about butch dykes? Did they really intend to be so exclusive?

Who do you suppose gets to decide WHICH females are ladylike enough to attend the class? Do you think there's an interview process? I imagine they have a finishing school for the would-be nursing moms who don't make the cut.