What kind of idiot misses a turn and then drives for hours before realizing it?
This kind of idiot.
This clown managed to turn a 8.5 hour drive into an 11.5 hour ORDEAL.
Movies I was hoping my trip through the back roads of rural Idaho did not become:
The Texas Chainsaw Massacre
Deliverance
The Hills have Eyes
I kid you not, I saw plenty of places today that could easily have been the setting for the sequel to any of these films.
How can a person not go the bathroom for 11 hours? I will tell you. Simply by being too scared to stop in places that made one think of a horror movie waiting to happen.
Considering that my vision is still blurry and the room is starting to spin--a long, long journey by car, and not going to the bathroom all day, will do that to a person--no post will be written about the trip today. Instead I will supply the trailor from the movie, "The Cars that ate Paris."
I swear I drove through that town today--minus the Aussie accents.
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
Friday, June 3, 2011
Things that happen in the country...
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Today could have turned out to have been a very, very bad day. I took the dogs for a walk and had the misfortune to meet up with a wolf.
Something was wrong, the dogs were sniffing the air, looking around and agitated. Toby was barking in all directions while Susie ran forward like a bullet.
She ran down a steep slope making it hard for me to follow. I managed to yell enough to get her to turn around and come back. As soon as she starting walking back towards me I saw a grey wolf sneak out from behind a tree stump and run up behind her.
Despite my frantic shouting the wolf kept coming. Susie is such a brave dog, she turned around and fought it off, sending the bugger scurrying away. As I fumbled around trying to get my gun out of my backpack, I watched the persistent creature turn around and go right back after Susie.
Aiming my Glock in the direction but a little too high, I fired a round that succeeded in frightening the wolf away. As it ran I couldn't resist firing another round for good measure, keep the blighter running in the right direction.
Did I hit it? Most probably not, I deliberately was aiming high, I just wanted to make sure it kept retreating. Venturing down to the wet and muddy part just to find out if the animal was hurt was not an option. Not only did I need to get the dogs away, a wounded wolf would have been no fun at all. Especially if it had freinds lurking in the trees.
Wonton turned out to be such a little cupcake. He does not like loud noises and as soon as I fired the first time, he bolted and ran all the way home. Not exactly a brave little fella. Toby stayed next to me. Clever dog. Only Big Suze was brave enough to get into the fray. What a hero dog!
I had seen some suspicious turds out in the woods today. Sadly my life now involves activities such as looking at pictures of poo online, what an exciting life I live!
Today could have turned out to have been a very, very bad day. I took the dogs for a walk and had the misfortune to meet up with a wolf.
Something was wrong, the dogs were sniffing the air, looking around and agitated. Toby was barking in all directions while Susie ran forward like a bullet.
She ran down a steep slope making it hard for me to follow. I managed to yell enough to get her to turn around and come back. As soon as she starting walking back towards me I saw a grey wolf sneak out from behind a tree stump and run up behind her.
Despite my frantic shouting the wolf kept coming. Susie is such a brave dog, she turned around and fought it off, sending the bugger scurrying away. As I fumbled around trying to get my gun out of my backpack, I watched the persistent creature turn around and go right back after Susie.
Aiming my Glock in the direction but a little too high, I fired a round that succeeded in frightening the wolf away. As it ran I couldn't resist firing another round for good measure, keep the blighter running in the right direction.
Did I hit it? Most probably not, I deliberately was aiming high, I just wanted to make sure it kept retreating. Venturing down to the wet and muddy part just to find out if the animal was hurt was not an option. Not only did I need to get the dogs away, a wounded wolf would have been no fun at all. Especially if it had freinds lurking in the trees.
Wonton turned out to be such a little cupcake. He does not like loud noises and as soon as I fired the first time, he bolted and ran all the way home. Not exactly a brave little fella. Toby stayed next to me. Clever dog. Only Big Suze was brave enough to get into the fray. What a hero dog!
I had seen some suspicious turds out in the woods today. Sadly my life now involves activities such as looking at pictures of poo online, what an exciting life I live!
Taking my newly acquired knowledge of all things shit out into the field, I have been examining the turds I find to work out what kind of bear is around. The good news is that no signs of Grizzlies have been found but those black bears are everywhere.
Today we came across something that looked like wolf or coyote droppings, not too far from the house. Perhaps the wolf that went after Susie has been hanging around close to the house.
Country life never ceases to amaze me.
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Obama's Revenge
My last post involved poking fun at Obama after his particularly humiliating episode in front of the Queen. The incident came after another one the same week where he had signed the date as 2008 in the guest book at Westminster Abbey. Our illustrious leader became the source of much mirth around here.
Then, in a cruel twist of fate, a class I enrolled in on the Classics of African-American Literature was changed at the 11th hour into a class about--basically--Obama. A celebration of all things Barry and the effect his election has had on African-American Literature.
I can't lie, I am disappointed. I had read several texts in preparation for the class, yes I am THAT kind of nerd, and was brimming with excitment to delve deeper into the classics. Now I will spend a semester with Obama, and that is indeed fitting revenge for my previous posting.
O! Bama, you've done it again!
Then, in a cruel twist of fate, a class I enrolled in on the Classics of African-American Literature was changed at the 11th hour into a class about--basically--Obama. A celebration of all things Barry and the effect his election has had on African-American Literature.
I can't lie, I am disappointed. I had read several texts in preparation for the class, yes I am THAT kind of nerd, and was brimming with excitment to delve deeper into the classics. Now I will spend a semester with Obama, and that is indeed fitting revenge for my previous posting.
O! Bama, you've done it again!
Thursday, May 26, 2011
Well may they say God save the Queen...
In the history of embarrassing moments, never has there been such an epic embarrassing moment as when Barack Obama toasted the Queen while "God save the Queen" was playing.
I have done some pretty embarrassing things in my life. In a small town in Italy, I walked around for hours, before heading up to Switzerland, having a long piece of toilet paper dangling over the top of my jeans.
This experience was truly excruciating. Fortunatly my moment of shame was only witnessed by some random Italians and Swiss whom I will never see again. No cameras were there to record the event for posterity and it was not witnessed by the Queen!
O, Bama! Thank you this truly priceless moment that I can refer to everytime I disgrace myself in future. I can always stop and say to myself, "At least I didn't toast the Queen...."
I have done some pretty embarrassing things in my life. In a small town in Italy, I walked around for hours, before heading up to Switzerland, having a long piece of toilet paper dangling over the top of my jeans.
This experience was truly excruciating. Fortunatly my moment of shame was only witnessed by some random Italians and Swiss whom I will never see again. No cameras were there to record the event for posterity and it was not witnessed by the Queen!
O, Bama! Thank you this truly priceless moment that I can refer to everytime I disgrace myself in future. I can always stop and say to myself, "At least I didn't toast the Queen...."
Friday, May 20, 2011
May 21st
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The fear-mongers are feasting on end of the world predictions for May 21st.
If the world ends tomorrow, at least I won't have to go to work on Monday. If the world does not end, then I will be wishing it did when I go to work on Monday. World ending or going to work, either way it's a lose/lose situation.
When the inevitable collapse of humanity comes I don't plan on hiding timidly in a bunker, waiting for the zombie hordes to attack. Instead I will be one of those crazy post-apocalyptic bikers like in the Mad Max movies, going around causing mayhem.
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The fear-mongers are feasting on end of the world predictions for May 21st.
If the world ends tomorrow, at least I won't have to go to work on Monday. If the world does not end, then I will be wishing it did when I go to work on Monday. World ending or going to work, either way it's a lose/lose situation.
When the inevitable collapse of humanity comes I don't plan on hiding timidly in a bunker, waiting for the zombie hordes to attack. Instead I will be one of those crazy post-apocalyptic bikers like in the Mad Max movies, going around causing mayhem.
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To this end I have done the following to prepare for the zombie apocalypse, (just in case)
1. Styled my hair into a mohawk and dyed it purple.
2. Put a safety pin through my nose for that scary mad biker look.
3. Filled the ATV with petrol so I can ride around wrecking havoc on the populace.
4. Decorated the ATV with dismembered dolls.
5. Changed my name to Night Rider.
6. Told my sweet domestic pets that they are to become a savage, marauding horde.
7. Had second helpings of dessert because I have got nothing to lose.
8. Watched Mad Max again to get some tips.
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If the world does not end....
1. See a hairdresser immediately.
2.Visit a doctor about that nasty infection caused by a home piercing.
3.Store the ATV until the next time the world is going end.
4.Reassemble the dismembered dolls and give them to needy children.
5. Change my name back to Countess Chichi
6. Take the pets to the pooch parlour to have the words, "Killer Dog" which had been spray painted on, washed off.
7. Not eat dessert again for month.
8. Send the Mad Max DVD back to Netflix
9. Wait until the next fringe group tries to instill the world with fear and do it all over again. :)
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Saturday, April 30, 2011
Coyotes and Grundies
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Good news; I have gotten a new job. My dignity can be restored once more as I return to the education field.
I had thought that working in a retail store would be fun, I love shopping so it would be like shopping all day and meeting nice people right? Wrong...oh so wrong.
It is hard work and I have so much respect for people who work in shops now, especially those who work in big department stores that have a heavy volume of customers yet who always keep the floor understaffed--to make a few more bucks for the fat cats; meanwhile, the slaves--in this case that would be me--work like they are in a Siberian labour camp, with the conditions in Siberia only being slightly better. *wink*
I would rather teach than have to go into the women's changerooms at the store and pick up the clothes some slovenly high-schoolers discarded. I mean, I am used to giving high-school kids homework, NOT picking up the inside out grundies they tried on and left on the floor. Oh my stomach is turning. I use hand sanitizer copiously. It might kill the germs but the psychological scars remain.
The other day some lady was buying a whole bunch of clothes, she had her teenage son with her. As I was going through ringing items up, I picked up something she had tried and had then left inside out. I just happened to grab it by the hygiene strip (the adhesive strip attached to the crotch area so that when some poor bugger buys the item which has been tried on by who knows how many sweaty fannies--they can remove the strip and hopefully find the item clean). The item was a bathing suit bottom and here I was touching the crotch area that had just been touching her middle-aged fanny. I'm making myself sick even recounting it.
My stomach did a back flip when I realised what I was touching, she was obviously embarrassed and I think the son wanted to die. I was trying to carry on and in doing so made a whole bunch of inane comments about whatever crap came into my mind, which only made things worse. Why oh why are people such dirty blighters? What kind of dirtbag tries on undergarments then takes them to the check-out counter inside out?
Good news; I have gotten a new job. My dignity can be restored once more as I return to the education field.
I had thought that working in a retail store would be fun, I love shopping so it would be like shopping all day and meeting nice people right? Wrong...oh so wrong.
It is hard work and I have so much respect for people who work in shops now, especially those who work in big department stores that have a heavy volume of customers yet who always keep the floor understaffed--to make a few more bucks for the fat cats; meanwhile, the slaves--in this case that would be me--work like they are in a Siberian labour camp, with the conditions in Siberia only being slightly better. *wink*
I would rather teach than have to go into the women's changerooms at the store and pick up the clothes some slovenly high-schoolers discarded. I mean, I am used to giving high-school kids homework, NOT picking up the inside out grundies they tried on and left on the floor. Oh my stomach is turning. I use hand sanitizer copiously. It might kill the germs but the psychological scars remain.
The other day some lady was buying a whole bunch of clothes, she had her teenage son with her. As I was going through ringing items up, I picked up something she had tried and had then left inside out. I just happened to grab it by the hygiene strip (the adhesive strip attached to the crotch area so that when some poor bugger buys the item which has been tried on by who knows how many sweaty fannies--they can remove the strip and hopefully find the item clean). The item was a bathing suit bottom and here I was touching the crotch area that had just been touching her middle-aged fanny. I'm making myself sick even recounting it.
My stomach did a back flip when I realised what I was touching, she was obviously embarrassed and I think the son wanted to die. I was trying to carry on and in doing so made a whole bunch of inane comments about whatever crap came into my mind, which only made things worse. Why oh why are people such dirty blighters? What kind of dirtbag tries on undergarments then takes them to the check-out counter inside out?
I bet Kate Middleton has never had, and never will have, to touch some aging woman's swimsuit crotch area. Why didn't I marry royalty...why? why?
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Musings on a royal wedding
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The Royal Wedding; I was in my element. I woke up at 2am and stayed up all night to watch it. I feel pretty rough now but it was so worth it. I am toying with the idea of purchasing a Kenneth Jay Lane replica of the engagement ring right now...so gauche I know but I am carried away by it all. I love a good royal wedding and I love my royals.
I kept thinking back to Diana and Charles' wedding all those years ago. It is amazing how fresh and vivid the memory of it is so many years later.
The Royal Wedding; I was in my element. I woke up at 2am and stayed up all night to watch it. I feel pretty rough now but it was so worth it. I am toying with the idea of purchasing a Kenneth Jay Lane replica of the engagement ring right now...so gauche I know but I am carried away by it all. I love a good royal wedding and I love my royals.
I kept thinking back to Diana and Charles' wedding all those years ago. It is amazing how fresh and vivid the memory of it is so many years later.
I once saw Charles, Di and baby William drive past during the royal visit to Melbourne. We had to pull over to the side of the road as they passed. Di looked straight at me and waved. I don't care what anyone says against the Monarchy, that something so small and trivial as that can still bring a smile to my lips and a warm feeling demonstrates why I love the Monarchy so much.
I thought Kate's dress was nice but a bit under-whelming. I would have liked something a bit more modern, a bit different but I think that would have been hard. In her position she was right in playing it safe and going for traditional elegance. She is a lovely looking girl and William is so handsome. I did notice the unfortunate bald patch but when you one is the Prince, all manner of physical imperfections will be forgiven. I quite like Hooray Harry and I think he looked splendid in his uniform.
The pageantry and the pomp was magnificent. The cavalry riding alongside the carriages took my breath away. The uniforms were just the kind of thing I expect from the Brits. At one point the view of the carriage from a higher vantage point showed the line of horses travelling alongside, and included their feet. I noticed that they were all moving their feet in a certain way. Not just the normal plodding along, but an almost dance-like step. Amazingly all of the horses in the line were in synch. That must be something they are trained to do. What an effect.
I will keep daydreaming about the fabulousness of the wedding and use it to struggle on through my humdrum existence...
I thought Kate's dress was nice but a bit under-whelming. I would have liked something a bit more modern, a bit different but I think that would have been hard. In her position she was right in playing it safe and going for traditional elegance. She is a lovely looking girl and William is so handsome. I did notice the unfortunate bald patch but when you one is the Prince, all manner of physical imperfections will be forgiven. I quite like Hooray Harry and I think he looked splendid in his uniform.
The pageantry and the pomp was magnificent. The cavalry riding alongside the carriages took my breath away. The uniforms were just the kind of thing I expect from the Brits. At one point the view of the carriage from a higher vantage point showed the line of horses travelling alongside, and included their feet. I noticed that they were all moving their feet in a certain way. Not just the normal plodding along, but an almost dance-like step. Amazingly all of the horses in the line were in synch. That must be something they are trained to do. What an effect.
I will keep daydreaming about the fabulousness of the wedding and use it to struggle on through my humdrum existence...
The Colonel is on the couch next to me snoring his head off...Do you think the dashing Prince will ever do that around Kate?
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