humor, sleep

The UFO And My Ankles

This morning I was too afraid to get out of bed. Why? Because I am sure, at 4 am; the usual time I get up, there was a beam of light shining – and humming –  into my bedroom windows. Cue *Twilight Zone* music here…


images-3Uh… okay… Hence, I was too afraid to hop up. Insane. Too scared to hop out of bed?! Yes! I’d rather take on an intruder in my home than some UFO. Yeah… getting beamed up towards the sky with a goat doesn’t sound that fun to me. Anyway, it was outside my window; not yours, and I lay in bed clinging to my sheets for dear life!

(I exclamation point, to exasperate the seriousness, of my point.)

And should it actually have been beings from another world to come take me away; I might as well let my significant other be the hero and let him get sucked up into that cargo ship. That would be the gentleman-ly thing to do. There’s not much meat on me anyway for them to carve up; so really, I’m doing a good thing here.

Seriously, stop watching the History Channel.

Wait, sidebar, why exactly are shows about aliens on the history channel? When people “see’ them and tell someone, no one believe the coocoo bird anyway. So, a historic event? Overkill. Maybe. Not really sure…. there WAS something outside my window, NOT, resembling a street lamp.

As I contemplate, it’s similar to when a police officer’s radar gun goes off when trying images-4to catch speed racers on a highway, aliens using these ray beams probably work the same way. No. Or disintegrate you. Likely.

Either way, as long as I’m the smaller object I’m hiding under the covers… not getting pulled up by a saucer with my ankles over my head…

…I’m soooo not getting abducted.

“Have a good a time up there, hun! Send a postcard!”

What a great plan.

Which got me to thinking… I need to stop watching the UFO shows on television.

Exercise, humor, self-help, Uncategorized

Diet Dumb Down

cat-74134.jpegOnce in a while, I peruse online videos –like cat videos – no -and wonder about learning something new. About a new diet phenom. Sometimes I do learn about a new weight loss challenge. Do cats go on diets? Quiet, you. Most times I don’t learn anything. Darn it.  Most of it is just nonsense because the reality is that we all know to eat our veggies and just get off our butts and workout. Sing it, sister! That’s it. And, forget about the cat being on a diet. You don’t need an uprising. Anyway… I had realized at the beginning of this year, I had gained a little weight and was NOT happy about it.

Wah! I want to hold a cat now!  You can’t… you’re allergic. 

So, I started getting back on track. Yay! I was working out and eating right but it just wasn’t bringing the weight down to my desired goal. What goal was that? Stealing the neighbor’s feline, and hitting a treadmill? Maybe. And then I found intermittent fasting. And a cat with a headband who was ready to rock. Which was great to stumble upon; (IF, not the exercise kitty) but not so great to watch and read millions of content that was literally making me dizzy with confusion and annoyance.

Like this, *ah *ah *achoooooo, cat allergy… here, hold this fluffy thing for me so I can explain without going into anaphylactic shock.pexels-photo-384555

While I care about facts and results, I care much more deeply on acquiring this information quickly, with ease and bullet pointed. I don’t want pages and pages of crap, garbling up my existence.

Garbles of crap. Existence being garbled…  standby.

Now, this isn’t to say I don’t enjoy a good romance novel here -which are some times long, with garbles of pages to read (unlike my romance novella series, which is great, you should read it. Just saying… )

Shameless plug much? Hush. Go find a meow-meow or something. Focus.

But I most definitely don’t want my “how-to do somethings” and “hey, what’s new that I want to learns” thwarted into my pea-brain all willy nilly. Most of the time, out of everything we read and watch, we can bet that less than 20% of what was just shoved down your throat was the heart… of the three hours you wasted on whatever the heck it was you were trying to learn. Case in point. History Channel. Spends an hour going in and out of commercials, repeating the same things over and over… and you learn only a few things at the beginning, once in the middle and the main thing at the end you were waiting for… or became disappointed by.

Was that your version of a statistical fact? Um, yeah, I guess so. Oh, geez… 

Well, yeah, I could’ve walked my giraffe in her tutu that she’s been bugging me to wear!

That being said. After weeks and months of researching and clouding my monkey brain with information on the subject, I decided to simplify it. No one else should have to work as hard as I did to find out what they want to know! I know, I was sent from heaven. An angel of sorts. Here the soft sounds of music above my halo?

I just feel we are in the age of over-information, over-stimulation, and the “I’m over-everything-ation.” Could just be you, darling. Yes, that could be correct. Wouldn’t be the first time. Nope. images

Too much! Circling back, here’s my simplified version, sans a Frito-eating purring puffball,  on the subject of IF. Or intermittent fasting – for those who aren’t up on the diet fad’s lingo.

Oh, and I left my wings and harp at home, sorry guys!



The Uber Upset

There was a time when getting into a stranger’s car was a total no-no. You’ll end up in pieces, spread all over a forest, offside a deserted highway. Never get into a strangers car, said “everyone’s parents.” You’ll end up on Dateline, Jane Doe. Eh, screw it. And, now Uber has revolutionized -not only getting into some unknown person’s rolling death trap -but a lot of us, frequently, do it all the time! I don’t know what happened to Susie, she said she’d be here by now… 

hey stranger, need an uber… *wink

Hey stranger, need a ride? Smooch. Kiss your bum Goodbye! Muah!

When I travel, sometimes  I will get a great deal and have a driver my entire trip – My fav!  Or I am privy to finding my own way around a city… and I totally have to Uber it.

Which brings me to the time I accidentally got into a vehicle – which was NOT an Uber – from my hotel…

the second time.

Let’s go back to the beginning:  

Upon exiting the doors of a luxury hotel, phone in tow, and a little pin showing me that my Uber was already here. I took a glance around the circular driveway for the burgundy, 4-door sedan, my Uber app told me had “arrived.” So,  I see it and drop into a cozy seat, while waving my manager toward the vehicle.

This is it! Come on! Let’s roll!

bmw-suv-all-terrain-vehicle-fog-89784.jpegAs I jump in the back, I could’ve sworn the driver made eye contact with me, confirming this was our ride. I was wrong. And apparently, this happens often. Hopping into unknown vehicles? No. The “me” being wrong about the Uber-Driver-Made-Eye-Contact thing…. Like the first time I ran and hopped into a strange man’s Escalade, thinking he was my ride. He wasn’t. He was funny about it. He tells my manager, hey you buy an escalade and beautiful women jump into my car on a daily basis. Aw, he said I was beautiful! They get a hearty chuckle out of my miscalculation and we laugh it off. And get the hell out of this poor guy’s limo.

Fast forward to the second time I did this. Is this a habit? It’s starting to look like it. Hey, bad habits are hard to break. It only takes five weeks to make or break one; stop whining.. and hopping into random jalopies.

Circling back… As I’m closing the door and plopping comfortably into the back seat, my manager is pexels-photo-146049.jpegentering the car on the other side and the driver turns around – with probably the angriest uterus you’ve ever seen – and starts screaming at us. “Get the hell out of my car! Who the f*** are you people?” etc. etc. Needless to say, she was much more vulgar than I am giving credit but there’s truly no need to lower myself (or you guys) to the expletives that this woman was shouting. Since when? Hush. Come on, no fun. Lower our standards on a daily basis! Boo.

I did learn some new words though. C**Bubble. That are -d***sh*****s-stuck in my Fish-S***-stick head. And I’m not proud of it. Shame. Actually feels pretty violating to know them. Suc***le-D***. So much shame…

man-hand-car-black.jpgMoral of the story. Every day I wake up  ruined and ashamed to have learned a new vernacular, with an equally entertaining quandary of what I can POSSIBLY soak up like a sponge today…

on my next Uber ride.