Dreaming of a fast Christmas

I don't hate Christmas. Honestly, I don't. But, for the next month, you can expect me to bitch about the parts of Christmas that I do hate. Here we are, the weekend after Thanksgiving, and I am already sick of all the damned commercials using the "Carol of the Bells" or "The Most Wonderful Time of the Year" and changing the words to their liking. Every time I hear that shit I want to throw something at my TV.

For the first time ever, this year I went out on Black Friday... or rather, Thanksgiving night and into the beginning of Black Friday. It will likely be the last time ever. We showed up at Walmart (not my favorite place) at around 10:30, after being stuck on the interstate for close to an hour driving the final mile and a half to try to exit to all the amazing shopping in the area. It was a special time. When we got there, the place was a zoo. They were offering Blu-Ray players for 50 bucks starting at midnight. Around 25 or 30 people were standing around a pallet with their hands on the things just waiting for the clock to turn to 12, so these people were there for at least an hour and a half just holding their arms out there so they could hurry to the registers and get out with their prize. Of course, at 12:05, nobody was standing there anymore and there were still 25 or 30 of the players left. I guess they'd have had to wait in the line for an extra 15 minutes or so if they hadn't stood there so long. Makes sense.

Most Christmas songs make me feel a little ill. Lots of people love them. Not me. A little over 1/12 of your life is spent during the "Holiday Season." This means that I have to hear the same, tired, crappy songs 1/12 of the time. So far I've been lucky. My least favorite song, which I counted hearing 77 times one year, has not yet pierced my eardrums. But it's coming. It will be the subject of a later post, I promise.

Tonight we put up the tree and some lights, cleaned up some areas that truly needed attention, and had a decent night. This part of Christmas is just fine with me. Sprucing the place up, and spending time with family is nice. The external crap is what makes me hope that it gets over with, and does it quickly.

Wishing you and yours a very Happy and Speedy Holiday Season.

Mr. Snarky

How Blogging Gave Me A.D.H.D.

     I'm agitated.  I'm not gonna lie or sugar-coat it.  I opened my laptop after waking from a flu-induced nap in hopes that I would find some great and simple ideas for Christmas.  Now, I'm jittery, my shoulders hurt, I think my left eyeball is hanging out of it's socket and I want to stick a whole pack of smokes in my mouth and just light it up.

Oh, I found some ideas.  I typed  "Free Vintage Christmas Clip-art" in Google and selected this site:  Vintage Holiday Crafts.  This little guy caught my eye instantly:

Is he not just ADORABLE??!!!  I then did the polite and legal thing and read the terms of use.  WHY are the terms of use so freaking annoying?  Can I use the clip-art or not?  Will I be shot for putting it on one of my Christmas cards to send out to a friend?  What if I create my own cards to sell?  Well, that's fine as long as I don't go over 999 cards.  NINE HUNDRED AND NINETY NINE????  Who has the freaking TIME for that crap???

Oh hey, I could really use an antiqued looking ticket stub to create a new "Grab my Button" button.  Google... antique ticket stub.  Scroll, scroll, GOT IT!  Graphics Fairy eh?  Okay, saved my ticket, browsing Graphics Fairy's site.  13,310 followers?  What the heck?  Guess I'd better delve in and see what all the hullabaloo is all about.  Wow.... great clip art.  Up to date blog.  Lots of extra links to follow.  Damnit, that one caught my eye.  No ugly ornaments challenge.

Ahhhhhh-mannnn.   She's posted a youtube video with her kids making crafts.  Well, I have to watch THAT. Some kind of paper Christmas ornament they found on Martha Stewart's site.  Did I just click that?  Crap.  10 pages up on Chrome, I've no idea where I started or WHY.

Martha is a goner.  Shut that puppy down after I read her instructions, which made NO FRIGGIN' SENSE AT ALL and went back to the ornament challenge page.  Oh lookie!  She's got a Pinterest link!  click.  Pinterest does NOT pop up.  Instead, I'm invited to take part in a linky that will boost my blog and pinterest accounts with new followers if I am selected because of my creativity and photo taking abilities by three ladies whose accounts I need to link up with and leave comments on before I'm taken seriously.  Seriously????

Argh.  I hit the back button.  Glare at the Pinterest button, and notice RIGHT below it, another button that says Pinterest Christmas Party!!!  Well, I HAVE to click on THAT one!  Pinterest doesn't pop up.  again.  I've been duped.  It's a tutorial on a braided scarf.  How did I get here???  Close that link down.

What in the heck was I trying to do???  My head is stuffed up, there is pressure behind my left eye, I'm scrunching my shoulders in danger of becoming a potato bug and folding in on myself.... and I've no clue what my original reason was for opening the damned laptop.  

Oh wait!  Check out that cool button!  Below it says:   "I have 15 fantastic guest bloggers ready to share some great projects and recipes with you over a 3 week time period."   Oh my gosh.  15 'fantastic' bloggers whose pages I will need to visit because one or all of them might have incredible insight into something I can't live without.


That's when my eyeball fell out.  I'm calling my doctor tomorrow for some ritalin. 


Come on Nyquil, do your stuff!  Get me out of this crazy thing...... called love?

                                                                                             Mrs. Snarky 

Life in Movieland

Have you ever noticed how movie and TV characters can do just about anything? Their skills often amaze me. The other day I was watching a show and one of the guys was a computer genius. He deleted all records of an auction on an E-bay type site and while he was at it, improved his co-worker's credit score and added a few grand to his bank account, all in the space of around 5 minutes. Amazing.

Have you ever tried to pick a lock? 30 seconds flat for these guys. When I break into someone's house it takes at least 5 minutes. What about hot wiring cars? All you gotta do is pull the panel off of the steering column and voila, you're off to the races.

Have you ever fallen off of a cliff or the top of a building and caught yourself on the edge, even when there is really nothing to hang on to? No problem, right? And even easier than that is pulling yourself back up and over. Sure. Piece of cake. Go out and find a high bar that is barely above your fully extended arms, jump up and grab it, and then pull yourself up and over. Not so easy really.

Does everyone out there in the dating world really go to bed on the first date? It sure seems to me that they do... but mostly, they just hook up in bars and go home with a different person every night. That is as long as they look like Ryan Reynolds or Matthew McConaughey. If they wear bad clothes or have a funny mustache, forget it, they will never get laid... that is until they find the really dorky girl (who is actually gorgeous, but is covering it up with her bad glasses and her hair up) and then they get married first, because that is what dorky girls do. Very realistic, no?

How come bad guys can never shoot very well? Do they not practice enough? They never ever hit the good guy and only occasionally hit his partner. Maybe they go to bad-guy shooting school.

The very worst part of living in movieland is this: if you cough more than once, you will not be living very long. Time and time again I've seen where the main character's father or his friend coughs and there is a short little look of concern, the cougher says, "it's nothing" and within ten minutes of film time, he's on his death bed, or has already kicked the bucket.

Cough. I Love you guys. Cough. Uh oh.

Hope I'm alive long enough to post again soon.

Quiet Time

     I'm craving some serious quiet time right now. However, as soon as I sat down at the computer my two year old granddaughter says "Nigh Night!!  Go nigh night!  happy bday??"  She is now singing "happy 'buth' kunkine away abcdfgee."    There is NO quiet moment with her.  None.  Zippo.  I know she can read, she's just being belligerent!

I've been perusing other blogs to get ideas for Christmas crafts and decor.  It sucks.  Seriously.  All of the places I click on CLAIM to have small children.  And yet the pictures they post make me believe that these people have never had a child step foot in their homes.  Where is the clutter?  The clothes on the floor?  The empty sippy cups???  The food spread around?

Just once I'd like to see an honest photo of a normal family.  Maybe I should head over to Awkward Family Photos.  Or maybe not -   Awkward!!!!

                                                                                           Mrs. Snarky

Pointless

   
I'm apparently too tired and crabby from my recent doctor experiences to be very funny tonight. I've had an ultrasound, (no I'm not a hermaphrodite as my lovely co-worker suggested) an MRI, (I do have a brain, which I was glad to hear) an aspiration, (which is actually just a nice way of saying I'm going to stick a needle in your throat for around an hour) and acupuncture (a not so nice way of saying I'm going to stick needles all over your body and leave them in for around an hour). I've tried and tried again but instead of funny Mr. Snarky, the writing comes across as bitchy unfunny Snarky. Sorry. I have a right to be bitchy. Oh, and the Packers kicked holy hell out of my Vikings tonight. Just kick a dog when he's down okay?

Anyway, Mr. Snarky's health has been an issue lately, but don't worry. He'll be fine. You know he's feeling a little bit better when he starts writing about himself in 3rd person. So I got that going for me, which is nice. I am feeling a bit down though. Anyone have any Prozac? Maybe Jemaine can cheer me up instead.

Time to go to my happy place

Ahh screw it. Nothing helps. Time to pop a Xanax and go to bed.

Goodnight. I kinda like you guys.

Mr. Snarky

I love my job... sometimes

I am writing this post as a public service to cashiers everywhere. I am not a cashier, but it is a fairly large part of my job. Glamorous I know. Cashiers have always held a special place in my heart. They work hard, stand on their feet all day, make crappy money, work crappy hours, and worst of all, they have to deal with the public constantly while trying to keep a smile on their face. Don't get me wrong; for the most part, I enjoy dealing with the public. There are just certain things about it that make me crazy.

DO NOT TALK ON YOUR CELLPHONE WHILE IN LINE... EVER!!! I mean it! Yesterday, a woman in line at the register was talking to her friend. She was at the front of the line and we couldn't help her without talking to her first. Her conversation, two decibels higher than a normal speaking voice, went something like this: "Yeah, I'm at the pharmacy right now. Uh huh. Well, I'm picking something up. No, at the drugstore. Yeah. I probably should go because I'm at the drugstore getting something for Charlie. Uh huh. Yeah." It went on like that for 2 or 3 minutes. Incredibly engaging conversation that couldn't possibly wait until AFTER picking up Charlie's meds, right? Hang up the damned phone lady! Even if you're just picking up a bottled water or something, talking on the phone says to the clerk that they mean absolutely nothing to you. Please, please don't do it.

Do not lick your finger when you are taking out your money or checkbook or debit card. This is especially true when you are at the pharmacy picking up antibiotics. It may sound silly, but people do it all the time... especially people over 50. I often want to stick out my hand and ask them if they'd like to spit on it, because in effect, that is what they've done. Instead, I grab the hand sanitizer, set it on the counter, and douse my hand right in front of them before taking the money to see if they get the hint. From what I can tell, none of them ever have.

If you want to make conversation, great. Just remember that this cashier has heard many of the same lines over and over and over all day every day. I'm not being clear here, so let me give you some examples. Yes, those of us who have to make you sign in the box know that it looks nothing like your signature. We don't give a rip. If an item you are trying to purchase has no price sticker or won't scan, IT ISN'T FREE! The teller at your bank who laughs when you stick her up by pretending your finger is a gun... thinks you are an idiot. And when she asks you how you want your 200 dollars, cash is NOT the answer she's looking for. The guy at the gas station knows that gas prices are really high. It's not his fault. When I worked at a different drug store that had a preferred customer card, the cashiers were required to tell them how much they saved by using the card. Me, "You saved 93 cents with your card." Them, "93 cents is 93 cents, hahaha" Me, "Really? I thought it was 92 cents. But actually, in 1953 dollars, 93 cents is 17 cents. And in Canada, 93 cents is more like 80 cents. But thanks for sharing." Okay, so I never said the last sentence. Instead I just tried not to make faces at them as they left. "Have a nice day!" Then under my breath, "MORON!"

Lastly, do not ever just throw your wadded up money on the counter. I can't speak for every cashier, but when I tell you the total and you flop money out there like that, it brings to mind just one word. Asshole!

Remember that cashiers, while not having the most exciting job in the world, are people. They HATE when you treat them like dirt or like they are invisible. When you have to wait in line, it's usually not their fault. They don't like it either. They've been standing there all day; you've only had to stand there for 5 minutes. They have a list of things they are supposed to be getting done when it's not busy and the crowd you see in front of you in line means that they can't do it and the manager doesn't care whether it's too busy. He only sees that the list hasn't been completed. So remember, the guy who takes your money might just be going to school to try to improve himself; the girl who runs your debit card might be a single mommy just trying to survive. Give 'em a break, would you? I'd appreciate it.

Hope this didn't make you mad because... I LOVE YOU GUYS!!!

But if it did make you mad.... PFFFFFFFTTTT! Mr. Snarky

Superheroes... almost

   
My favorite 3 year old boy LOVES superheroes. He has DVDs, puzzles, outfits, coloring books and action figures. He has introduced me to several superheroes and villains that I had no idea existed. This led me to a thought; if there are that many superheroes, surely there were some who were "left on the drawing board"  After a little research, I discovered these never before released Superheroes who never made it.

The Mosquito, AKA Buzz Miller: When Buzz discovered the ability to turn into a mosquito, he was determined to help New York City police in solving crimes. Unfortunately, two days later, while making a deposit at his credit union, armed robbers arrived. Never having had the time to determine what good could come of his power, he decided to give it a shot anyway. He transformed, bit the first robber he could find, and was promptly slapped, ending his career before it had a chance. Rest In Peace Buzz.

Mr Toilet, AKA Louis Commode: Loo, as he is known by his friends, is a mild mannered janitor working for a defense contractor. When he has his sights set on an evildoer, he goes into a stall, and quickly transforms himself into Mr. Toilet. When the unsuspecting bad guy sits down, Mr. Toilet swallows him whole. His sometime assistant, Dr. Ex-lax, occasionally helps him on a really hard case.

Sgt. Racker: Racker is a retired Marine drill Sargent. He has no super power. If someone is doing something wrong, he kicks them right in the nuts. That's all.

Skunkman, AKA Mal Oder: Mal works as a file clerk for a Washington lobbyist. He seeks out government corruption and when he finds it, he sprays it down, leaving the offender with a foul smell that can only be removed with a bath in tomato juice.

The Human Tornado, AKA Billy Ray Gibson: Billy Ray is the maintenance man at a trailer park in Mississippi. After a nasty incident involving a stolen 6 pack of Old Milwaukee, the residents of the park learned to NEVER EVER piss Billy Ray off again.

Papa Razzi: Papa lives in LA. The biggest crime he has foiled was at a convenience store. He took so many pictures of the perpetrator, the man was blinded and unable to drive the getaway car and the authorities arrived in time to confiscate the stolen red bulls and beef jerky.

Soup or Man, AKA Pierre Bouilliabaisse: He tried fighting crime, but it didn't work out very well. Peter's super power was, unfortunately, the ability to turn himself into a bowl of soup. The criminals either laughed at him, or took a few bites. His biggest success came when his arch nemesis, Jimmy the Jaywalker took a big bite and forgot to blow on the spoon, severely burning his lips.

Rain Man, AKA Chief Winnebago: The chief is the greatest rain dancer the world has ever seen. When crimes are in progress, he does his dance and the evil doers are quickly soaked to the bone. However, he has not yet learned to control the more powerful lightning and his arch rivals know this, always remembering to bring towels and a change of clothes to the crime scenes.

                                          Hope you all have a great week. Love, Mr Snarky