Cardiogirl: 19% body fat 100% fun

Friday is The Book of Questions Day around these parts. Today’s query comes from the aptly titled book “The Book of Questions” by Gregory Stock, Ph.D.

And here it is, Question 151.

While arguing with a close friend on the telephone, he or she gets angry and hangs up. Assuming the other person is at fault and makes no attempt to contact you, how long would you wait to get in touch with him or her?

Forever and ever, amen. However, it really does depend upon the circumstances.

I’m not into confrontation — I am into champagne — so I don’t argue very much. I just don’t. There’s not a lot in this world that’s worth arguing about to me. If we don’t agree, groovy. I don’t feel the need to force someone else to agree with me and at times will say, “I’m sorry you feel that way.” And then I silently add, “Kick rocks, mofo.”

However.

I’ve had some bad juju hangin’ ’round this house for roughly the last four years. Deal breaker stuff with my extended family.

The short story is: We. Don’t. Get. A. Long.

Basically none of us agree and neither side is willing to compromise. Groovy tunes. That’s exactly why I’ve changed all of my contact information and made it unavailable; forever and ever, amen.

And because of that I’ve had to tell the police three times now that we don’t get along and three times the officer(s) replied, “It sounds like they’re harassing you. I’ll note that in the police report.”

Why thank you very much, kind sir.

Here are some fragments of thoughts for you on this fine Monday morning.

I pulled all of the weeds in front of our house this weekend. It made a pretty big difference and now I feel like I’ve finally removed the moldy couch from the front porch and traded in the pick up with the gun rack in back.

Please provide a useful phrase when linking to another site. I’m begging the bloggers of the world to unite so we can eradicate this practice.

I.

HATE.

IT.

When a blogger says something like, “I found a great post here.”

Don’t do that.

Instead you should say something like, “I found an excellent site called Things That Suck. You can buy the book or read the blog to learn things like this.

Things that suck: Paying $3500 to have your house tented for termites and then discovering ants in your kitchen two days later.

That really does suck. Thank you in advance for helping to further this cause.

I’m tired of dreaming about funerals. If I have to stand in front of another casket after I fall asleep tonight, it better be filled with punk-ass squirrels.

I cannot wait for school to start. Since my youngest kid will be in full-day Kindergarten everyone feels the need to tell me how bored I’ll be. Everyone is wrong.

A lot of people think it’s cruel and unusual punishment to send a five-year-old to full-day Kindergarten. (Gives a blank stare.) I’m not one of those people.

I don’t like it when grown men use the diminutive form of their name. Robert can become Rob or Bob. Please, for the love of Netpune, don’t call yourself Bobby. I cannot take a man in his 50s seriously if I have to call him Bobby.

I am aware of the folks in the South (and other places, too) who legally name their kids Bobby Ray Jones, Billy Jack Smith or Donny Lou Who. Okay, your parents were into it. I get it. Groovy.

But I have a workaround for you. When you turn 12 ask your friends and family to call you Bob or Bill or Don. That’s all I’m saying. If they refuse you’ll have to move to a new location when you turn 18.

Let’s see. I should try to end on a positive note, right?

The mailman delivered my new watch on Saturday. That made me happy. It’s an Indiglo watch and now when I wake up in the middle of the night I press the button to check the time.

Just because I can.

TO: Mother Nature
FROM: Cardiogirl
RE: Our recent exchange

Hey there. How you doin’ chica? Remember the last time we tangled? I rolled right over and cried uncle immediately. You are the Master of All Elements and I bow down to your greatness.

So now that we’ve established the fact that you rock and I suck we need to get down to brass tacks. I’m getting pretty tired of dealing with the aftermath of that torrential wind and rain storm.

We lost all of the food in the fridge, we had to go camping in our own house over the span of three days, that huge branch busted the windshield of our car, we had to use a hacksaw to cut up all of the branches so the city would chip them — shout out to this fine city; you’re spending our tax dollars wisely — and I had to shower at the Y.

I am still ever grateful, however, that the branch did not fall on the house jacking up my world in a big bad way. Thanks for that.

So I tried to suck it up and I stifled most of the bitchy thoughts I was experiencing. But I’m really getting pissed off, betch.

The oven doesn’t work now. The stove top does and I should be grateful for that. I am grateful for that. I made some bitchin’ fried chicken the other day and we all enjoyed it. No leftovers that night. But the inside of the stove doesn’t work.

I’m really
getting
pissed. Why
won’t you just
step off, betch.

The digital control panel on top psyches me out. The clock runs, I can press Broil or Bake and then Start and the control panel tells me it’s preheating. But it’s not. It is not preheating

It lies.

And the dude who came over yesterday was friendly and all, but naturally he didn’t have the part necessary to fix it. And of course there were no stores within a 50-mile radius of my house that had the part in stock. So it’s on order and it’ll be here in seven days.

So that dude will be back next Tuesday with the part and next Tuesday I will make banana bread. But until then I will bitch about you behind your back while being subservient to your face.

Please stop jacking up my stuff. The running total so far is roughly 875 clams. I know. It was a calculated risk to jack up our insurance deductible to $1,000. Our monthly fee is lower, but when shit like this happens we have to suck it until we pass $1,000.

So I’m happy I don’t live in a third-world country, I’m glad none of us were maimed by a falling branch and I was really thankful that we had water. But come on.

End it, gingah.

Thank you for considering my request. And good day to you, m’lady.