Thursday, December 22, 2011

Look! Samples!

Yesterday I found myself battling grocery store crowds.  The aisles were jammed full of shoppers...half of which would park their grocery cart in the middle of the aisle so they could eat samples.

The grocery store equivalent of double parking.  I can't maneuver around because these morons are just dying to know what pound cake tastes like.  Or cheese.  Or a new deli meat...something commonplace.

You want to know what I think of samples?  I find them repulsive, that's what.  The idea that anyone would place their mitt inside a plastic dome to sample from a mound of whatever.

I think of where all those hands have been prior to reaching in.  Toilets.  Noses.  Restroom door handles.  And then that same hand reaches in and fondles three samples before deciding on the perfect bite.

Because I'm stuck behind these people I can't help but notice what most look like from behind.  I've found that most have deflated looking asses with pants hanging like draperies.  Usually thinning hair, gray.  Lots are in the late stage of menopause where they walk like Yoda all hunched over and crap.

Have you really observed these people?  I mean, they're pretty non animated during sample time.  Kind of just stand there as though they're some goddamn sommelier trying to pick up fruity notes or something as they chew on beef salami.  Or as though tasting a piece of Hormel pepperoni takes them back to Florence, Italy.  Hypnotized...Oblivious to my glare as my cart is parked 3" from their ass.

And what exactly is their takeaway from the sample experience?  Do they talk about it on the ride home?  "Jesus Mildred!  Did you try that piece of Sara Lee Eclair?  You'd never know it was frozen!"

Oh, and check out the so-called samples in my picture above...Since when is a 6" sub a sample? Christ!

Maybe I'm just in a huff today...

See ya...

Tuesday, December 20, 2011

The Year I Really Stressed Out on Christmas Eve...

I was in 3rd grade.  There was this new doll out called Baby Holly Hobbie.  She looked nothing like the cloth Holly Hobbie I was used to.  She was what I'd now call the Mack Daddy of Holly Hobbie dolls.

I prayed to Santa for it.  Swore I'd never punch my brother between the shoulder blades.  Promised I'd never again fight my sister over the Apple Jack cereal prize.  I apologized for snacking on Communion wafers this one time in when my brother and I found some in the church kitchen. I even volunteered to pick up dog poo because I wanted it so badly.

I busted my little ass to get on Santa's good side.  She HAD to show up under my tree or I'd be ruined.

Then my mom springs some news on me.  We were driving to Ohio to visit relatives that year...We'd stay at my grandmother's Christmas Eve.

My first thought was, "That's nice Mom, but how is Santa going to find me so he can drop off Holly?"
I had no choice.  Had I been more versed in the adult way of saying things I probably would have said, "You outta your gourd ma?  How in the shit is that fat ass gonna deliver my goods?  I've been busting my ass and Trina's gotta get paid homes!"

Fast forward to Christmas Eve and I'm in Ohio.  I'm thinking Santa is going to arrive at my house in Colorado and say, "I spent all this time making Trina this doll and the little brat couldn't be home for the delivery?  Forget her!  I'll give it to Cheri Mahan (my neighbor)!  She has a better bedroom for it anyway."

I prayed one last time to Santa and let him know I indeed was NOT in Colorado.  To please please pretty please come find me in Ohio.  I barely slept...due to stress mostly.

Imagine my surprise when Santa came through for me that year.  I got my baby Holly Hobbie.  I was so excited about it I slid on my grandmother's hardwood floors in my socks and got a piece of wood not much smaller than a pencil stuck in my heel.  But that's another story for another time.

Outta here!!!

Thursday, December 15, 2011

Crappy Wedding Pictures...Total Crap.

Maybe it's this time of year and I can mentally hear "Oh my god, (insert man name here)!  Yes I'll marry you!" as women get their new engagement ring for Christmas.

So ladies, congratulations and crap.  Enjoy your moment.  For what it's worth, here are some of my thoughts on wedding photography.  Namely, pictures I really fucking hate.  I mean, just don't do these poses:

I look at this and think, "Morgue".  Why would you want to stare at your bloated mitt?  Case closed.

Nice cans girlfriend!

Why would any woman do this pose?  Is he guiding her hand to his nad-ular region or something?  GET A ROOM!

Sorry but I never want a shot of the underside of my pits.  I mean, really.  Ew.

Somebody get me a valium and a spit up bucket...This is just repulsive.  Something tells me they had a Hello Kitty themed wedding...because of the 'cute' factor.  Not because they're Japanese...

Thanks for showing us the back of some old guy's head.  He'll love knowing he had male pattern baldness for her big day.  I'm assuming this dude's her dad and not her husband...or the caterer.  Or the DJ because she's three sheets...

Pictures that rock!

Class AND Sass!  Way to go statistically-likely-to-divorce couple!!!

And I've saved the best for last....Totally dig that guy in the lower left corner.  Not that I needed to point him out...Classic!

Outta here.....

Wednesday, December 7, 2011

Here's a fun Christmas tradition!

Maybe I'm jumping the gun a bit by even writing about taking down my tree when I haven't even scoured a tree lot yet this season....

I just can't help but remember how my dad used to dispose of our family Christmas trees.

After carefully removing all our ornaments and lights, he'd stroll into our family room with a tooth saw and start hacking away at the branches.  One by one he'd stack the dried kindling in a pile.  Then he'd go to work on the Christmas tree trunk.  Usually sawed it into 5 little logs...

Then he'd build a small fire in our fireplace....He'd sit on the hearth and patiently wait for the fire to really get roaring...Cozy.  Almost sentimental...

All of us kids sat in wonderment...Taking this entire post-Christmas ritual in...Maybe we'd learn a new tradition we could, in turn, share with our own children...A nice way to close out the holiday season...

That is until we realized why Dad built the fire.  One by one he'd pick up the dried Christmas tree branches, dried pine needles and all, and throw them into the fire.  A giant "WHOOOSH!" sound followed by searing heat and intense light would fill the room.

Our eyes formerly filled with wonderment now wide with terror...

The scariest part was those pine needles...They'd catch fire and fly around like tiny firey embers.  One year my sister's security blanket even caught fire.  True.  Or maybe Dad used it to put out a side fire from the main bonfire...can't remember.

Regardless, the only thing I learned from watching Dad burn our Christmas tree was that I would be dragging my dead tree to the curb January 2nd...

Good god that was terrifying...

See ya...

Tuesday, December 6, 2011

My Christmas Sweater...

You know those Christmas sweaters...the super tacky ones.  Maybe a wintery scene with a Snowman and his 'family'.  Or a red one with cascading embroidered presents and snowflakes.

I was thinking I'd like a Christmas sweater.  In fact, I might even be inclined to wear one on the condition I get to design it myself.

Let's start with the overall design.  I think the cardigans tend to be a bit slutty with their open front.  So I'd like mine in a bulky baggy turtleneck style.  Will show fellow holiday revelers that I may enjoy Christmas but that I'm not a whore.  Kinda says, "Hey pal, this ain't no traditional Christmas cardi...I know I look hot...back the eff off."

Around the neck I think I want those big ass lightbulbs from the 70's....but in an embroidered replica. But they'd have to kinda hang off the bottom of the folded down turtle neck part.  Underneath would be concealed wiring so the tiny LED's installed in each faux 'bulb' could light.  I'd do the traditional green and red lighting for that part.

Let's move on.

In keeping with the Christmas lightbulb theme I'd have a giant embroidered LED lit Christmas tree on the front.  Under a plastic snow globe...Yeah baby...It'll be "Dry Clean Only" but imagine the kid's faces when they see Aunt Trina's chest snowing.  Priceless, don't you think?

Oh, an additional detail...since carrying the approximately 2 cups of liquid in the snow globe would weigh down the front, (that would look just ridiculous) I'd install a tube not unlike a blood pressure do hicky that would feed into the interior of the sweater and down my right sleeve.  Pump the bulb to create a blast of air that would in turn blow the white confetti around the tree.  Sweet...

The back of the sweater I'd keep pretty simple because as much as I'd like a snow globe there, it would be nearly impossible to sit back in a chair.  So I think I'd just do more strands of Christmas light bulbs.  Like the ones around the collar.  Lit up...LED style.

I know what you're thinking, "Lots of wiring and gadgetry in this sweater Trina but sounds way festive!"

I knew you'd agree.

See ya...

Thursday, December 1, 2011

I was an asshole at Christmas..

Really.  I was.  An asshole...Want my siblings' phone numbers?  They'll tell you.

I fancied myself a Christmas choreographer.  Around October I'd begin making age appropriate musical selections for my brothers and sisters to sing to my parents on Christmas Eve.  After we performed them at church.  An hour earlier.  But that didn't matter now, did it?

Oh and you know that whole "Silent Night" spiel with the candles at the end of the Christmas Eve service?  I'd make my sibs bring their candles home.  Sure there was only 1/2" left to burn, but we just sang the Silent Night finale fast as shit...minus a few choruses and verses...watching in terror.  Helplessly singing "Sleep in heavenly peace" as the flame disappeared between our thumb and index finger.  Ouch...

Participation in my Christmas program wasn't optional either.  Ask my brothers and sisters.  The ones who still speak to me, that is.  They'll fill you in...

Outta here...