Pickles & Dimes

This weekend, Jason found out that one of our friends was in Mexico for a wedding, and hyperextended his knee AND broke his femur. You know what he was doing?

The limbo.

That’s right. Our friend broke his femur doing the limbo.

(Me: If you would’ve said, ‘Hey, guess which one of our friends broke their femur doing the limbo?’ I would’ve totally guessed him.

Jason: “I know! Me too!)

So people, what’s the weirdest injury you’ve ever sustained?

Guess what we did last weekend? (We had to assemble two more giant storage shelves because someone outgrew the other ones; the ones that hold over 750 CDs and 350 DVDs. Hint: that someone is not me, and will never be me; me with my 100 CDs and 25 movies, half of which are X-Files-related.)

Hi, Welcome to Jason’s CD & DVD Warehouse. What can we help you with today?

We have the finest collection of 80’s hair metal and one-hit wonders, as well as hundreds of bad movie soundtracks!

Or perhaps you may be interested in the entire works of Kevin Smith, the complete series of the X-Files, or the worst movie ever made: Vulgar!

Don’t let the cat half-straddling the couch bother you (note: that is not her tail hanging over, but her LEG): we’re all class here at Jason’s CD & DVD Warehouse!!! (Open Mon-Fri 10am-10pm.)

Overheard after the game last night:

Husband: What’s wrong with grabbing some peanuts?

Wife: Nothing, only you got them from a bag you saw on the ground.

Husband: But I only took one.

Wife: Because I slapped your hand away! You had a whole fistful!

Husband: But what’s so wrong about taking some? They’re still in the shell.

Wife: It’s just gross. It was on the ground.

Husband: But still in the bag.

Wife: But you don’t know who was touching those peanuts. They could’ve been rubbing them all over themselves.

Husband: But it’s protected by the shell!

Wife: You wouldn’t pick sunflower seeds off the ground.

Husband: Well yeah, because someone might’ve put them in their mouth and spit them back out.

Wife: Well, some people suck the salt off peanut shells.

Husband: But this peanut was dry… So you’re saying you wouldn’t eat this peanut?

Wife, plus chorus of friends: NO.

Husband: But what if you grabbed it out of a freshly dropped bag?

Friend: How do you know the bag was freshly dropped?

Husband: Dude, don’t go poking holes in my theory! Anyway, it’s in a freshly dropped plastic bag, plus it’s still in the shell.

Everyone: NO.

Husband: But the shell is like… Nature’s Ziploc.

Everyone: NO!

On my half-day yesterday I finally managed to spend the rest of my gift card to Macy’s. Sounds like such a horrible problem to have, huh? Oh, I have free money to spend and I can’t find anything, wahhhh, these diamond shoes aren’t sparkly enough, but MAN. I was practically begging myself to find something, anything, just so I wouldn’t have to come back.

I am a picky shopper. Even if it’s not my money, I still have a price in mind that I’m willing to pay for things. And Macy’s just isn’t my kind of store: $80 for a shirt? $115 for a skirt? I can’t justify it. But eventually, I found a sweater and the perfect dress. It is black with a red belt and it is awesome (and will go with my red shoes). But, while I thought I had $60 left on the card, I found out I actually had $73. And then I said something that sounded like this: ARRRRGRGRGGR.

So then I wandered over to the jewelry department, found a fake diamond necklace that looked suspiciously sparkly when compared to the other fake necklaces, to the point I have convinced myself there was an error and it is actually made of real diamonds, and went to the register planning on using up the rest of my gift card.

“This looks like it’s on sale,” the saleswoman chirped.

OH COME ON, JUST LET ME SPEND THIS STUPID GIFT CARD FOR THE LOVE OF GOD.

Luckily I still had to pay a few bucks out of pocket and now the gift card is GONE FOREVER.

I then went to the dentist, where I wasn’t greeted by my normal friendly hygienist, but a subpar version of her, whose English was minimal at best and who resorted to just forcibly moving my head instead of saying, “Turn toward me, please.”

I had a bad feeling immediately. First, she took nearly 5 minutes to select the right cleaning tool. She’d pick one up, lightly touch one tooth with it and then return it to the tray, mumbling. She finally reached for the hated water pik and immediately sprayed a forceful jet of cold water over my face, chin and neck. She apologized, but I kind of started to plan her imaginary death after the FIFTH TIME.

Plus, she cleaned my teeth randomly. Instead of starting on one side and working her way to the other, she started in the middle and then just skipped around. I mean, I had allotted 60 minutes of mental energy to deal with being at the dentist and now I had no idea of her progress.

Also, she didn’t use the suction thingy enough. Twice I gagged on the water/crap in my mouth, and she finally resorted to just leaving the suction thing in my mouth as she worked, which eventually suctioned itself to the tip of my tongue, a very painful situation that resulted in her having to use both hands to pry it from my mouth.

And then she mistook my posture of clenched fists and closed eyes as “relaxed” because she said, “You look like taking a nap.” And I laughed too loudly and thought, “Yes. IN HELL.”

And right as I was about to request that she floss my teeth slowly and gently (my teeth are really tight, which, you know, should have been obvious to her since she’d been in my mouth for 2938758 years at that point), the dentist showed up. And was waiting. So the hygienist flossed like she was in the World Speed Flossing Championships, and let’s just say that when I looked at my mouth afterwards, “There Will Be Blood.”

But no cavities.