Vote for your favorite wiener dog holiday photo card pose!
Posted by: Betty on: November 27, 2011
It started innocently enough nine years ago. Someone gave me a cute little holiday hat or frock for my mini dachshund. As payback for all the years of kiddie holiday photo cards from friends, I decided to dress Phoebe and turn it into a card.
The wiener dog was humiliated by the costume and plainly displayed her displeasure in the photo. I promised her I’d never do it again. But then came the silly Halloween costume. Followed by yet another Christmas-y costume. And then another promise.
Every year I try to stop creating the ridiculous photos, but then a well-meaning friend sends another costume. This afternoon, we had our photo shoot wearing the latest holiday outfit gift. I can’t decide which pose to use. Care to share your input?
Does this cape make me look fat?
One night soon, I will kill Betty while she sleeps
Even though I look cute, i refuse to smile
Back to my Roots
Posted by: Betty on: November 23, 2011
It’s pretty clear that I’ve had very little to say over the better part of this year. Even though my muse/partner-in-crime, June B. Stewart, no longer walked the beat with me, I still thought I’d have things to say. Apparently not.
In addition to June’s absence, I guess I didn’t realize that there was simply nothing interesting happening in the Bubble. Until….the tenants in Unit B (which shares a porch with my unit and another) moved out. Swell, here we go again. Most importantly, it reminded me why I launched this blog.
I won’t bore you with the usual petty b.s. that happens when a neighboring condo unit turns over. But those of you who know a little something about me know that while I’m basically a laid back, easy going person, unwritten condo common courtesy parking infractions send me over the edge. It’s the Betty possession.
After three weeks of watching the new arrivals in Unit B blatantly disregard established parking courtesies, they continued to park in my second space, which admittedly is not occupied even close to 24/7. But since each condo unit is entitled to two parking spaces at all times, I act like an unreasonable lunatic to ensure that the four to six total hours a day that I might need my second space, it’s available.
So, as Mr Unit B (whom we’ve officially nicknamed DB) and the four cars associated with him continued to park beyond the two spaces to which he was entitled, I dropped this “joke” parking citation on his windshield one morning. He did not find it humorous. Come on, wouldn’t you laugh if someone hit you with it? Especially the hummer violation.
If you didn't laugh when this was dropped on your windshield, then you are probably a jerk.
Have a great Thanksgiving holiday!
xo
Betty
Leaving the Bubble….and Making a New Friend
Posted by: Betty on: October 24, 2011
When I travel for work, a portion of my onsite business involves the use of bald mannequin heads for educational purposes. We have a supply of 50 of these heads that get shipped from location to location as needed. The bald mannequin heads were last used in Las Vegas then shipped to Florida for use last weekend.
As we set up the meeting room in which the heads would be used, I cut open one of the boxes and pulled out a mannequin….with a full head of hair. Hair that looked as if it had been styled with an egg beater. All 50 of them had hair. Not a baldy in the shipment.
How on earth did these bald mannequin heads grow hair on a simple trip from Las Vegas to Florida? I’ll bet a pharmaceutical company would pay big bucks to find out.
I wanted to find out too. I needed bald heads. So I tucked the hairy mannequin under my arm and set off to find the operations manager who might know the answer. I finally located him and the instant he saw me walk into the room, he looked at me and said, “Hey, that’s Viola. What’s she doing here?”
We never really discovered what happened with the shipment (or, for that matter, why the operations manager christened her Viola.) We all had a new friend named Viola.
I did feel as if I had two heads when I woke up that morning
After someone braided her nest of hair, she became my assistant and went to work.
Freshly coiffed, Viola promptly attracted the attention of a man.
Once the workday was over, she had dinner.
Viola's carnage
The next morning, Viola refused to leave the hotel room for work. She insisted on lounging in bed all day.
I returned to my room after dinner at 9:00pm to begin packing for a 6am departure from the hotel the next morning. Before I could place even one item in my suitcase, a text came in: “Party in suite #301…please bring Viola.”
Viola quickly bellied up to the bar. No. Necked up to the bar?
I get the sense that the only reason I was invited was to transport Viola.
She was really trying to kidnap Viola
Sue tried to shield Viola from the ensuing debauchery. My best intentions to pack and get to bed early were shot to hell. We didn’t get back to the room to begin packing until 1:30am, just three short hours before the wake up call. As a result, trying to pack in an organized fashion was impossible. I had intended to pack Viola in my checked bag – a colleague explained that a ventriloquist friend of his regularly encountered TSA problems when trying to carry on his dummies.
I just couldn’t manage to jam her into the suitcase to be checked. In the end, she had to travel in my carry on bag and eventually made it through TSA screening without a hitch!
No ticket required for her
So, Viola has become a resident of the Bubble. She broke from the pack of the other 49 heads and has retired from having complete strangers massage her face several times a year and travel among destinations via truck while shrink wrapped to a pallet.
Viola meets the wiener dog
But that doesn’t mean her party days are over. Viola has big plans for the neighbors on Halloween.
Payback’s a bitch. Revenge served cold – 6 year old style.
Posted by: Betty on: October 1, 2011
If you’ve read my rubber snake post, you know the background. (If not, check this out first.)
Soon after scaring the bejeezus out of my housecleaner, I decided to launch the snake on my six-year old neighbor, Lola. I did ask her mother’s permission, of course. I may not be fond of children, but I know where to draw the line. Plus, this kid is cool. You can actually have an interesting conversation with her.
I knew that Lola was a prankster, so I asked her Mom if it would be okay for me to put the snake in their mailbox. Lola’s newest extension of boundaries allowed her to walk to the mailbox herself to collect their mail. Mom thought the snake was a great idea.
I watched from my window as she skipped to the mailbox, opened it and….immediately grabbed the snake, dancing around with laughter. Within seconds, my doorbell rang and there was Lola mocking my pathetic attempt to snake her. I then told her that the snake was hers to pay forward. I explained that revenge was best served cold. The next day, she sprang it on her father. She had it waiting in the bathroom for him. I was disappointed. She just didn’t get it.
Or did she?
This afternoon, a good three months since I snaked her, I stepped out with the wiener dog to collect my mail. I opened the mailbox to this:
Ben, is that you?
I’ll admit, my initial reaction was fear. But then I connected the dots. I could not, however, bring myself to touch it. It’s paws just looked so creepy. I brought the wiener dog back inside. I knew if she was beside me when I pulled it out, she’d come unglued, thinking it was another fun thing to chase like squirrels and chipmunks (the latest Bubble invaders.)
I returned to the mailbox to collect the rat and my mail. As I walked back to the porch that is shared with Lola and her family, there she stood. Bent over with laughter. She knew she got me. But the rat is now mine. The wheels are turning. Who will be the next victim? And what does Lola have in mind for the snake? I haven’t forgotten that she’s still sitting on it. Two in play.
Would you ever expect evil glee from a cute kid like this?
Turning 50: No Expectations
Posted by: Betty on: August 2, 2011
- In: fears | random thoughts
- 18 Comments
As I find myself approaching the big 40-10 (which sounds much more agreeable than 50), I’m filled with deeply conflicted feelings about certain things in my life, but I’ve also just enjoyed the best year of my entire life. Ever. Seriously.
I’ve always felt that the older I get, the more I enjoy life. Never has that been more true than the last year. At the over-the-hill age of 49, I finally started living for myself, not others’ expectations. And that’s the philosophy that’s made my life so wonderful in this last year: no expectations. I’m finally comfortable in my own skin and I’ve developed relationships in my life that fulfill me beyond any expectations.
That’s why it’s so puzzling that the number 50 is freaking me out so badly. I’ve never hit a milestone birthday in my life that’s troubled me. Not 30, not 40, nothing. In fact, over the last several years if you asked me my age, I’d have to stop and think about it. Age was never something that impacted my life.
So why does the number 50 bother me?
Image via stoners.com
Damned if I know. All I do know is that I don’t want to acknowledge this birthday in any way, shape or form. Therefore, I have decided to leave the country to decrease the instances of having to gracefully accept birthday wishes from well-intentioned friends. Grace is not one of my strongest suits and I don’t want to sound like a nasty bitch. While great, the last 12 months haven’t been completely annoyance-free. I’ve had some practice whipping out my nasty bitch self. And I often feel as if I’m 49-going-on-15 as I frequently spout the immature, “DUH” (mostly when interacting with certain men, but not to their faces.)
My destination of denial is an island in the Caribbean. Yeah, I know it’s not the ideal season for the destination (hurricanes) – but you wouldn’t believe the great prices!
I plan to enjoy a beautiful beach, ponder life, read several novels, listen to music, enjoy spa treatments and consume rum beverages (not necessarily in that order) over the span of several days on either side of the actual date of the dreaded milestone.
I hope to gain some clarity on certain aspects of my life and, most of all, to disconnect. I haven’t done something like this in…well…ever. But one philosophy I won’t rethink is “No Expectations.” I strongly encourage this for everyone. Live for yourself, make yourself happy, and I believe it helps everything else fall into place.
The Reason Rubber Snakes Exist
Posted by: Betty on: June 22, 2011
Back in the early 90s, I was sent on an extended business trip through Europe. During a stay somewhere in Germany, I came across some sort of chocolate covered insect that I bought and shipped to a friend/colleague back in the US. As I had hoped, they creeped her out (I can’t remember what sort of insect, but it was an intentional selection on my part, I knew it was a particularly disturbing species for her.)
I returned to the office two months later. As I settled back into my office space, I discovered her revenge: a strategically placed rubber snake. This snake bounced between our two offices in various hiding places for the next several months until she left the company. I then decided to initiate the snake into my personal life.
For the past 17 or 18 years, this snake has traveled among a few households of family and friends. After you receive the snake as a victim, the key is to hold onto it for several months until the other participants simply forget its existence, then make your move. There is no particular order for victim selection. The more random, the better.
This snake has popped up in countless “hiding places.” It could be boxed within a victim’s Christmas present, coiled inside a pot in a cabinet and, of course, between sheets. Although between the sheets does create the desired horror, it’s a common location that generally hits the same day you happened to have visited the victim’s home. It’s always good to select a hiding spot like the pot in a cabinet because it could be days or weeks after your visit that the victim makes use of the pot.
I came across the snake in my closet about a week ago. It wasn’t the “plant,” I had found it months earlier but had simply put it away to ponder the next victim and destination. I was leaving the next day for a trip, so I pulled it out of the closet and just hooked it over the railing of my staircase. This way, I’d be reminded to get working on it when I got back from my trip.
The problem is, I forgot that my cleaning people were coming in while I was traveling. As one of them started up the stairs to clean the bedrooms, this is what she saw:
Apparently her biggest fear is snakes. The email she sent me today had me crying with laughter – I’m still crying. After reading today’s Blurt, I fear that revenge is on the horizon for me. If so, I can take it because the housecleaner experience epitomized what rubber snake pranks are all about. I’m only sorry that it happened to an uninitiated, but otherwise the best rubber snake prank. Ever.
Do my wiener dog jammie pants make you hot?
Posted by: Betty on: May 24, 2011
I’ve been unable to write for a while. And I’m still not back yet, but wanted to let my loyal supporters know that I’m still out here. Doesn’t mean I can put as much as a paragraph together, so I’m just going to share a few random thoughts/sights/actions AND search engine terms!
Random
Message on a t-shirt I recently spotted outside Fenway Park: “Jeter Drinks Wine Coolers” ‘nuff said.
Menacing kid seated behind us in Fenway Park:
Evil mohawk kid. And the mom knows I'm photographing him. I'm cursed.
Middle-aged Sexting: I recently sent the following picture/text to my, umm.., friend:
Do my wiener dog jammie pants make you hot?
Oprah: For pete’s sake, enough already. Her last show has no guests, no give-aways. Just Oprah on stage seated in a chair. It’s all about Oprah. What a surprise.
Lastly, I often come across bloggers who post amusing and unusual search engine terms that bring them readers. I knew I had two that absolutely slayed me, (I’ll save those for last) but when I went into my stats to pull out the exact wording, I discovered a dozen or so that were worth commenting:
The most common search term (in not so many words) had to with variations on: ”what to wear to walk the dog”
Hippie Cahier, your supportive comments probably drew the following terms:
- “hippie cahier“ (yeah, that makes sense I guess)
- “hippie tagging“
- “hippy writting style“ (I’ve not edited this)
- “hippie cheezburger“ (nor this)
- “hippy happy lighter“ (sounds like we’re going to spark something up)
- “hippies shoes for man“
That’s what she said: “ i swear it was this big“
Okay, I did mention two of these words in the same post:” giving a bj with invisalign“
Hmmm.. but I’ll bet it’s not as good as Patrick Rafter wearing just a tennis racket: ”what does hugh laurie look like wearing nothing but a laptop“
Well, no. But I wouldn’t mind being Mrs. Michael Waltrip: ”mrs. darrell waltrip“
Suspiciously close for someone who might know my real identity: ”heaven site inspection joke event planning“
He’s everywhere: ”octogenarian oma nude“
Yeah, baby: “asleep unconscious unresponsive“, “bound bitch“, ” liquid xanax“
And here are my two, all-time favorites: ”mental patient in straight jacket” and “ass parade and the boys would tap my butt.”
St. Patty’s Day in the Swamp, Part 2
Posted by: Betty on: March 26, 2011
Again, my apologies for the technical difficulties with this post. I’m still encountering problems I can only overcome by splitting this post into two parts, published simultaneously. So please read Part 1 first.
And now the continuation of June’s St. Patrick’s Day parade experience….
But, This was my absolute FAVORITE marching(?) group. A bunch of female athletes and they invited me to come watch their next match on Apr. 2. I am SO there!
Sally Smasher
I have that skirt, but my skates are yellow
I'll bet my new friends train hard to keep their athletic bodies
After parade we all went to a really popular club…
And this is why I ALWAYS carry my camera.
Had a great time at the parade. I hope they want to do this for all the holidays!
June B. Stewart
St. Patty’s Day in the Swamp, Part 1
Posted by: Betty on: March 26, 2011
My apologies for the technical difficulties on the previous publication of this post. Many thanks to those who alerted me to the problem! (I’m still encountering additional problems I can only overcome by splitting this post into two parts, published simultaneously. So please read this one first!)
June has filed the following report on her St. Patrick’s Day celebration in the Swamp….I’m a little behind on posting…sorry about the delay! Betty
May the best day of your past be the worst day of your future
Some friends of mine own a real estate agency and they decided Thursday night to build a float for today’s parade. I made tissue paper flowers, streamers etc. Since I had never been in a parade, I decided to join them… handing out beads & candy.
Here’s how the Rose Parade got started I’m pretty sure.
Got bored waiting on things to get going so I ventured out to meet some locals.
Don’t have a clue what the Vikings had to do with St. Patty’s. They did let me borrow an outfit to see if I would like to be a Nordic woman… what do you think?
I just liked this guy.
Who doesn't love a man in a uniform?
And these boys had a helluva periscope
Yep, that’s friends float.
Spring Arrives in the Swamp
Posted by: Betty on: March 24, 2011
We are all thrilled that June has emerged from hiatus along with Betty to file the following pre-spring report (well, pre-spring for those of us in New England since we had snow overnight.)
Hey Everyone,
Sorry it’s been so long but not a heck of a lot going on. Still lookin for a job! Doing some part time stuff for a head hunter but it’s not steady & you have to wait so long to get paid.
When I moved into my house, there was a bird that came once a day & he would tap on the living room window.
Persistent little bugger
He did this for 3-4 months then he vanished. Apparently he went further south for winter cause He’s Baaaaaaaaack.
Finally, NASCAR season has started! Disappointed that I didn’t get to go to 500 but my seat was pretty good.
Oh yeah, for those baseball fans out there the Washington Senators spring training is here. I went to a game a couple weeks ago. Had no idea what was going on but our seats were right above the visitors dugout so I tried to flirt with the players.
This one almost looked at me a couple times.
No takers. Guess their eyesight was better than mine & could see that I could have been their G G G G Grandmother. Damn, that sounds OLD.
Not sure what these boys were doing but I thought it was funny pic.
This gal was my fav at the game.
I’m bettin she was looking for the team bus after the game. Oooops, what you can’t see are her biker boots. Made the outfit.
Here’s my latest yard art so you’ll know where to find me if you’re drivin by.
Part Deux to follow
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