Conversations From A Digestive System

"Holy Crap! What was that?" "Hey, Biggy, (large intestine) you push anything out yet?" "Yo, Smalls, (small intestine) it hasn't even made it here yet!" "Hey, Mack, (stomach) what's going on up there?" "Fish and chips without the chips. Ribeye steak without the tater. Fried chicken with no mashed potatoes. Asparagus." "Fresh cole slaw made from scratch. Hey MAFW? Are you trying to kill us down here?" said Mack. "I ain't recognized anything you've been putting in me. Where's the tater chips?" "Yeah! Hey, Lady? We ain't had a biscuit down here in about three months. Ya trying to starve us or somethin'?" said Smalls. "Hey, Lady? Smalls is right. Are you paying attention to us? I ain't seen any greasy cheeseburgers in a long time. My walls are even starting to come clean from all that ruffage crap you been feeding us. Ruffage; now, that's funny!" said Biggy. "Hey, Mack! She's been eating R-U-F-F-A-G-E." "Ruffage! LOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOL! Oh my! You've never eaten ruffage before. The next thing you know you'll be eating beets and rutabagas. Hey, fellas? The MAFW is gonna start eating beets and parsnips...lololol" "Beets? Yuck!" said Smalls. "I hope she stays away from the onions; those things stink!" "Yo, anyone seen Chubs (fat) lately?" asked Biggy. "Fellas, you don't have to worry about the onions; I'm allergic, remember? But, I am trying to get healthy, so ya'll better shape up. As for Chubs, he's down about 30 pounds and has learned to keep his mouth shut. Now, where did I put that recipe for pickled beets....."

Waiting For Discounts

I've become quite the bargain shopper lately. I check the weekly circulars, do price matching at Walmart and even check out that television show called Extreme Couponing for any inside tricks or tips that I may be missing. Money is still hard to come by for some folks so why not save where you can is my motto. One trick I have learned is never buy special occasion candy or gifts before the special occasion---if you can help it. You may be accused of being cheap, but it's definitely worth it to wait until the day after. Why? Because everything is usually 50% off or more; you can get twice the candy or gifts for the same money you would have spent the day before. Smart, right? I found myself at one of the local drug stores the day after Valentine's Day getting my mom her annual box of candy in the heart-shaped box. After walking to the aisle where I thought the candy was located I was shocked and annoyed to find that there was hardly anything left. Maybe, one box of sweethearts and a couple small boxes of dark, orange-flavored candies was all that was left on the shelf. Yuck! Who in the world would eat that? "Can I help you find anything?" a store associate asked. "Yeah, I was looking for the leftover Valentine's Candy," I replied. "I'm sorry; we got ravished last night," she said. 'This is all we have left." "Oh, okay. Is it 50% off?" I asked. "I'm not sure. Let me ask my manager, she said. While she was asking her supervisor, a young man, I was still checking out the non-existent candy aisle--talk about disappointing. I was still standing in front of the empty shelves when the manager went to check somebody out at the register. He could see me eyeing the shelves and I'm sure sensed my disappointment from halfway across the store. "Yeah, we got slammed last light; there isn't much left. Why are you looking there?" he asked. "I thought this was where the candy was supposed to be." "No, ma'am. We moved it to Aisle 15 at the back of the store," he said. "Really? I better head back there." I started walking to the back of the store and had just reached the discounted candy--there was still a large selection of colorful, heart-shaped boxes to choose from when I heard someone approaching at a hurried pace.  It was the manager and he was heading right to me. "Oh, good, it's still here. I saw this earlier and thought it was a good price," he said grabbing a large box. "No sense paying full price for something like this---especially in this economy." It was one of those super large boxes of chocolates.  The last one.  (Sorry, Mom) A man after my own heart…

Happy Valentine's Day

I was looking through Valentine's Day cards the other day trying to find just the perfect ones to give to family and friends when I became totally disgusted at how expensive they were--five bucks for a card--I don't think so. Anyhow, being the somewhat intelligent and extremely clever person that I am, I remembered getting valentines when I was in school for everyone in my class and they all came in one box. Voila! What a great idea! They each came with their own envelope and were generally large enough to be sent through the mail. The sayings might be seen as childish, but others might think they were cute and I could always insert a heartfelt hand written note inside. Plus, there were usually thirty cards in a box and they came relatively cheap. It sounded like a good idea... ...but? ...but? I didn't know it would be so damn hard to find a box of ordinary old-timey valentines. Geesh! Here I was at Wallyworld and the only thing I could find was Hannah Montana, Jonas Brothers and iCarly, and they weren't even regular valentines; they were stickers and activity sets. No, thanks. You can keep them! I left there and went to another store, then another and finally ended up at Dollar General, where I struck gold, or, so I thought. They had boxes of valentines but the cards didn't come with any envelopes. Crap. I reached further down into the display where the cards were and I pulled out the very last box of valentines that had envelops. I was excited that something had finally gone my way, made my purchase and tore into the box of valentines as soon as I got into the car. It wasn't too long before my excitement began to fade as I realized that all of the cards had the same picture on them: A skunk. Have you ever received a skunky valentine? If I remember correctly, the skunk valentine was given to someone that you didn't like and for some reason I received quite a few. What does that mean?. Do my family and friends really want to receive a Valentine's Day card that says "I love you...and...you're a stinker too?" Happy Valentine's Day! ...Stinky!

New Design Update

It seems Blogger has it in for me. I have been trying for several weeks to implement the new designs for the blog but there are some issues that are totally out of my control. I hope they fix it soon. Until then, I have reverted it mostly back to the way it was and I'm working on some new stories. Here's one of my favorite stories to keep you occupied: Inadvertent Touching Recently, I went back to my new hairdresser, P, to get a touch up on my newly fabulous hairdo that I've been sporting. I learned my lesson about going on Wednesday, thus avoiding the fumes that arose from the all-you-can-eat extrema burrito fiesta. I believe it was on a Tuesday afternoon and the salon was hopping. It turned out that P had started teaching a class at the local community college and on that particular day he was teaching the new students in his salon. When he saw me at the front counter, he threw up a hand in greeting and squealed, "GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG, Hola`, chica. My goodness, what has happened to your coif? P did such a fabulous job on you last time." "Hola`, right back at ya'll. That's why I'm here; the gray is coming back fast." "Oh, chica, what is ya'll? It is just me, P. Anyway, you have come on good day. I am showing these P wannabes how to become a stud in the world of beauty and salon. Come sit here." And with that I was led to the first chair and then immediately surrounded by a gaggle of cackling old bitties, three young wide-eyed teenagers and one young ex-Marine with a "I love doing hair" tattoo on his left bicep that greeted me with a wide grin and a strong nod. "Howdy, ma'am!" he said. Over the next few minutes or so I listened somewhat stoically as my favorite hairdresser launched into the story of our first meeting and of our mutual agreement that my hair was a complete disaster. I was a perfect example of what not to do if you wanted to do your own hair or were too cheap (or broke) to go to a professional salon. "Come closer," he said to the class as he whipped out an iPhone from his fanny pack. "This is chica before and this is chica after P has finished with her. See the difference of what a professional can do?" he said. "Hey, I didn't know you had taken my picture," I said. "Oh, bambino, you were too worried about my burritos and my snake. You wanna see it again?" "Wait a minute," one old bitty said. "I don't wanna see ya 'll's snake. What kind of place you runnin' here? Honey, have you seen his snake before?" she said as she edged closer to the chair and nudged me slightly. "Uh?" "Whaddya' sayin?" she said and nudged me again. I wasn't sure what I was nudged with the first time, but I became acutely aware of what it was the second: her boob. They were big and large and were laying straight out, almost in an upward direction. At least she had on a good bra I thought to myself... ...Yeah, she must have a really good bra on to keep those things up like that, I thought to myself. I was thinking about asking her where she did her undergarment shopping when I got nudged again. Stop touching me! Now, I'm really a patient person and fairly easy-going but there is one thing that drives me absolutely bananas and that is being touched by someones body part when it is not supposed to be there, if you know what I mean. For that matter, I really don't like being touched at all unless I know its coming. I've been that way my whole life. I can remember battles with Sister over control over the best end of the couch and rides in the backseat of the family car, stuck in the middle between Brother and Sister riding on the hump, hoping that neither would reach over and pinch, touch or even acknowledge that I was there. "Mom, Sister touched me," I would moan or "Mom, Brother keeps calling me Froggy," which would then result in either a headlock and a noogie or a flick of my ear. I'm not sure which hurt worse. Pedro gathered all of his students around him as he prepared the coloring mixture for my hair. "You must be very careful when mixing chemicals. You don't want to turn your client's hair green or blow somebody up. Hee Hee. All measurements must be exact and precise." The group watched in fascination as P measured this and mixed up that, and finally finished with a flourish. "Bueno! It is finished. Come. Now, let us turn, chica, into a beauty once more." The crowd gathered around me in anticipation, with Miss Triple Ds in the back row trying to see around the ex-Marine and a tall blond with even taller hair. "Mr. P, I can't see nothing from back here. Can I move up front?" she asked. "Oh, yes. Make way for Dolly up front," he said. "My name's not Dolly," she said. "Oh, I am sorry, chica. You are all so new and P has not had time to learn your names, but it is because you look like Dolly, that I call you Dolly," he explained. As she moved from the front to the back, nudging me in the process, she took her place behind the teacher and waited for him to begin. P turned around with chemical in hand and ran smack into the large, upturned chest that had been repositioned behind him. "Mos Dios! Aye, yigh, yigh!" he exclaimed as the mixture sailed out of his hand and onto the plastic cape that was draped over me. "Oh, chica, P is terribly sorry. Dolly, where did those boobies come from?" he asked. "Oh, my goodness. What a hot mess this is. I am so sorry, bebe, but I have the super duty heavy plastic cape and it shouldn't leak through it. Even if it does, that shirt you have on does not suit you anyway." I was too surprised to say or do anything except look in the direction of where the mixture had been tossed from. Somehow, I wasn't too surprised when I felt a now all too familiar nudge as the large-breasted lady busied herself with trying to clean up the hot mess that was splashed across my chest. Nudge. Stop it! I continued to sit in silence as Dolly and P now took turns dabbing at the spill on my chest. Dolly had grabbed the towel that was wrapped around my neck under the plastic cape and P had whipped out a few moist towelettes from his fanny pack. Meanwhile, Sgt. Hair had worked his way through the crowd of stunned onlookers and now stood off to my right side, almost out of my vision. "Mister P," he said in a heavy southern accent. "I've got some more towels here, if you need 'em? All ya'll look like you done a fine job of cleaning her up, if you ask me." Pedro looked at the ex-soldier and smiled broadly. "Thank you, Sarge, but I think we have it all cleaned up now." My hairdresser removed the soiled cape from me and began searching for a new getup to replace it. "Does anyone have a clean towel for chica's pretty neck?" he said with an extra ounce of sauciness. "I do," said Sgt. Hair. "Oh, good! Come and I will let you be the first student to place the cape and towel." I smiled up at the ex-Marine with the cool tattoo and strong jawline and caught his smile as he leaned over my body to place the towel around my neck. Nudge. Holy Crap! Here we go again. "Nice job!" said P. "Now for the cape. Make sure you do it with a flourish. It is all part of the experience, you see." P handed over the new plastic cape to Sgt. Hair who now had moved in around behind me. I felt another nudge and then a whoosh as the cape sailed up and over and settled perfectly upon me. "Terrific!" said Pedro. "Class, don't you think Sarge did an excellent job?" The crowd murmured in agreement with "Yes, great job" and "Awesome" and "I wanna try". Sarge remained standing behind me soaking up all the attention, while edging closer and even still closer to the back of my chair. Nudge. Nudge. "Great job!" said Dolly. "Will ya'll stop touching me?" I said in exasperation. "What is wrong, chica? Who is touching you?" "Well, Dolly there has been beating the hell out of me with her boobs, nudging me every time she comes within three feet. And Sarge here has proven that he's carrying more than a loaded weapon and might just be happy to see me." "Thanks, ma'am," said Sarge with a flip of his hair and a tug of his groin. "I am enjoying being amongst ya'll and I do apologize if 'Lil Sarge offended you in any way." I was trying to recover from the 'Lil Sarge comment when I heard sniffling beside me. "Oh my, I am so sorry, being large-breasted has hurt me my whole life," said Dolly. "I thought I could do hair without 'em being in the way, but I was wrong," she said with a sad sigh. "Oh, Dolly, it is okay," said my hairdresser. "We have just gotten starting in our training. I was so excited when I saw G walk in today that I forgot a first basic step in hairdressing, and that is where to place your junk. In my case, it is where to place my snake without offending the customer; that is why I wear a fanny pack. See, watch? I can nudge chica all I want and it will not bother her," said P as he nudged my chair with his fanny pack. "But what about me? I don't have a snake and I think I would need a burlap sack to cover up my girls," said Dolly. "Hmm, yes, you are a challenge but I think I have the answer. Your girls are very pretty and are standing upright, but I think we must get back to nature. You must free them and let them hang the way God wanted them to be." With that, my hairdresser walked into the back part of the salon and came out with an armload of new smocks for the girls and a leather fanny pack for Sarge. "Here you go everyone. Please put on your new accessories and let's practice not touching our client. You don't mind, do you, chica? I give you half price." "Go right ahead. For half price, you can touch me all you want," I said. Soon, I settled into a half-sleep state as I tuned out the activity around me. I received a few nudges, one more visit from 'Lil Sarge and then there was nothing. I sensed the activity around me and felt the hands in my hair but I was no longer being knocked around by the various out of control body parts that had tortured me earlier. "Very good, Dolly!" I heard P say as I became more alert. "You have done a fabulous job." Dolly handed me the mirror nervously and I glanced at my reflection. My hair looked fabulous. "It looks great, Dolly!" I said. "And I didn't feel a nudge or anything. I think you found your calling." Dolly had done a good job and other than the sight of seeing her braless chest as she removed her smock, I was quite pleased with the way everything had turned out. I finished settling my bill and exchanging pleasantries with P when I noticed Sarge giving Dolly the eye. "I love the way you did her hair, Dolly," he said as he continued looking at her chest. "You wanna go get a latte?" Her answer was a wide smile and a nod of her head and I heard P giggling behind me. "Oh, chica, I think I let Dolly's girls go and they have captured Sarge's heart. Such is life at the hair salon. You be good and I will see you in six weeks!"