I know what I *won’t* be having for dinner tonight…

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Mornin’ all.

I was a brave mum yesterday. The eldest teenager (we’ll call him Teen Prime) decided that the electronic gadgets and games he’d acquired through the past few birthdays and Christmases were old news. Can’t blame him. He’d played most of the games through at least twice. He said, “Say, would you feel like taking me up to Game Stop real quick so I can trade a few things in?”

Ah, I just heard it: The collective groan of sympathy from other mums of gamers…and the knowing “mmm-hmms” from gamers who’ve been there. For those not in either group, let me explain: One does not simply walk into a Game Stop. There is no such thing in the gaming lexicon as a “real quick” trip to a gaming store when trading is involved.

Knowing this, but trying to be awesome anyway, I said, “Sure. Why not?”

Those three little words set into motion a veritable tornado of teenage activity. The others hopped into action and the games piled high on the table. I was imagining a couple games, maybe the system they didn’t really play anymore. It certainly wasn’t presented to me as An Ordeal. And yet, as the bags filled and the excitement amongst the herd grew, An Ordeal is exactly what it became.

I let myself get suckered, folks. In fairness to Teen Prime, I had an idea of what I was in for. In fairness to me, though, I didn’t realize that they were going to scour every corner of the house to scrape up every possible trade dollar.

I’ll say this…Game Stop does a fair trade if you’re a club member. The teens walked in there with old games and a PlayStation 3, and walked out with a PS4, extra controller, two games, and three Wii games for the youngest cub. Not shabby. It only took about an hour, which in fairness to the clerk was far less time than I expected.

And now I am awesome.

…or was. I mean, they’re teenagers, right? Who knows how long that’ll last? I got them a watermelon, too, so maybe that bought me a little extra time high up on the list.

Speaking of lists, I have a lot on my “to do” today, but I just read an article while I was drinking my morning joe and since I nearly spat the coffee across my screen, I figured there was something juicy to sink our teeth into* before jumping into chores.

* You’re going to hate me for saying that. Just wait….

I was reading my FB feed and a friend posted a link to what has to be one of the most epically WTF articles ever written. How’s your stomach this morning? Are you rock solid?

“Yeah, I’m feeling fine.”

Best grab a bottle of Tums to have on hand just in case.

“Bethie, it can’t possibly be that bad.”

Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

A man in Wyoming was stopped for a routine traffic violation. The cop noticed he smelled a little boozy, so he asked the dude to step out for a field sobriety test. The man got out, stood there while the cop asked him questions, and pretended not to see the eyeballs falling out of the leg of his pants.

Read that sentence again.

THERE WERE EYEBALLS FALLING OUT OF HIS PANTS.

Here’s the deal. Mr. Roy Tilbott works for a meat packing plant. Roy likes himself some bovine eyeball soup. However, the packing plant does not sell eyeballs, nor does it allow the employees to take the scraps home for personal use.

Clearly Roy was backed into a corner. They practically forced him to smuggle eyeballs. There was no other option. Not wanting to get caught by his bosses and fired, he figured the best way to get those tasty, juicy eyeballs out of there was to shove them up his ass.

Now, the ass has been used to smuggle many a’thing. Drugs. Weapons. The odd light bulb. But in all of those instances, NO ONE WAS GOING TO FUCKING EAT WHAT WAS SHAT OUT!!!

Guys, he didn’t even wrap them. He just took the freshly de-skulled eyeballs and pushed them up his butt. While at work chopping your steaks and grinding your hamburger.

So there he was, with THIRTY eyeballs crammed up his ass, and just his luck, a cop pulls over his El Camino. Of *course* he drives an El Camino, because he just wasn’t creepy enough with the ass eye soup fetish. He gets pulled over, stands there with the cop, and was scared of being caught smuggling. Folks, you know what Nature makes people do when they’re scared…he shit his pants. Only instead of shit, out came his dinner.

You know.

EYEBALLS.

I can’t help but wonder just what was going through the cop’s head when goddamn eyeballs started dropping out of Roy’s pants and rolling on the ground. That poor, poor cop.

This wasn’t a one time deal, either. Roy has smuggled “several thousand” eyeballs during his employment with the meat plant. Along with absolutely no taste, Roy seems to also have no shame. He gladly shared the details with the press. “I enjoy eating bovine eyeballs and smuggling them out in my colon was the only way I knew how to get them out without potentially getting caught and fired. I put them in soups. They’re beneficial for erectile dysfunction, which I currently battle, but I also just like the texture and taste.”

He says it like it’s so reasonable. Roy, no. If you’re reading this, NO. Just….no.

The cops have no idea what to charge him with RE: the eyeballs. They consulted with the meat packing plant*…

*doesn’t that term just take on a new meaning now?

…to see if they want to charge Roy with theft. He also had in his possession a few large, professional quality knives that the cops aren’t sure if Roy stole. And Roy was drunk at the time of the stop, so there’s a nice DUI for him. I guess in light of the rest of the crimes, eyeballs up the ass is actually the lesser offense.

So what’s going on in Wyoming? Oh, not much. Just a drunk, knife-wielding, limp-dicked El Camino driver shoving eyeballs up his ass to shit out later for his dinner.

Same old.

Thus concludes the most disgusting Musing ever for Saturday, July 25, 2015. It’s Saturday. It’s the weekend! And maybe your life isn’t going the best at the moment. But hopefully, after reading this, you’ll at least be able to thank your lucky stars you never ate dinner at the Tilbotts. Always find the silver lining in life.

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Lions and ‘ginas and bears, oh my!

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Mornin’ everyone.

Is it bad that I’m hoping for rain today?

Don’t get me wrong, I love the perfect weather we’ve been having. It’s been in the high seventies to low eighties, dry, light breeze to keep it from feeling too hot, and a sky filled with happy little puff balls of clouds. When I say “perfect”, I mean it.

But that also means there’s a ton to get done outside. That means I don’t have an excuse to sit at my computer all day and pound the keys. I try. I try real hard. And then I catch sight of something outside and I can see the bushes that need trimming, or the cars that need work, or the lawn that’s already gotten to where it needs ANOTHER fricken’ mow… Mother Nature is giving me a guilt trip.

I’ve got auto paint freckles right now. They’re all up my arms. I tried a new technique on smoothing out paint drips yesterday that involved a razor blade and about two hours’ patience. It worked way better than I expected, but it shaves teeny tiny bits of paint off, which end up sticking to skin. Maybe it was the heat, maybe it was because the paint hadn’t fully cured…whatever the reason, the bits would not wash off. They wouldn’t scrub off. The power washer didn’t touch them, and the only thing I can think of is paint thinner, which makes me break out in a rash. The paint is red, with a light metallic flake to it. I have speckled, glittery arms, and they’re just going to have to stay that way until the pieces finally rub off.

Is it bad that I kinda like them?

I’ve got to take a kid to a check-up tomorrow at a large hospital in the area. Maybe I’ll sit there and scratch at my arms the whole time just to freak the doctor out.

I was reading the news this morning. Seems we’ve got two cases of people going where they don’t belong. First, a tourist in a German town got himself stuck in some art. I’m sure you’ve figured out by now that if it’s a “tourist” that got stuck somewhere he didn’t belong, it was an American. So what was the sculpture, what was the grand work of art the man simply could not stop himself from climbing in to?

A vagina.

…whoa, chill. Not a REAL one. Sheesh. A giant carved rock vagina. Just sitting there, in the middle of the town.

Now, should he have climbed in it? No. Of course not. I mean, it’s art. You don’t climb on art. But, in his defense, it was art left outside, in the middle of a town, just sitting there.

And, you know, IT’S A TEN FOOT TALL VAGINA.

Who does that? Who looks at a giant slab of rock and says, “You know what? There’s a vagina trapped in there somewhere, and it’s up to me to let it out…” ?? I love art, all different kinds. I even like to try my hand at creating my own. And I’m not a prude. But a giant public vagina…uh…statue (?) is just plain weird.

And who lets it be on display in the middle of the town? Could you imagine that flying in any city here in the US? I wonder if they would let any body part statues be erected. Like a, oh, I dunno…penis. Is there a complimentary penile statue.

…stop groaning. I could not say “erect” without “penis” in this Musing. Face it, you’d be disappointed in me if I let that one slip by and you know it.

I want to see a giant elbow statue. Or jaw line. Not the whole thing, not like a Georgia O’Keeffe painting or anything. Just the part under the ear. Just that little bit. I mean, if we’re going to make statues of close up body parts, why not pick some boring ones?

Ah, there ya go. Ten bucks says the German artist who made the sculpture and the town that approved it for display are beside themselves that their little shock creation got international press. The only reason to display a ten foot tall vagina is for the hype, the reaction. It’s not even actually a very good statue. The carving is so-so, the overall look isn’t exactly interesting. It’s the most boring vagina statue I’ve ever seen. The ONLY thing it’s got going for it is that it’s a giant vagina standing in the middle of a town. It’s the idea that’s shocking, and that’s what the artist and the town board wanted.

When you look at it like that, the idiot did the town a favor by climbing into their most treasured gigantic body part. It is literally a tourist trap, just how the town and artist planned.

The other news tidbit was a story about a woman who sneaked into a lion enclosure at a zoo to feed them. She dressed herself all in brown, like lion-fur brown, and somehow got inside the display. She was unharmed, the workers removed her and took her photo and banned her for life. But, wanna know the scary part? This wasn’t the first time she’s done this. And there’s speculation that she may have done it in other zoos. And if that’s not enough to make you shake your head, she was feeding the lions cookies.

My god what’s wrong with people? Lions don’t eat cookies!! Sneaking in there, spoiling their dinner…SHE MUST BE STOPPED.

You know, I have mixed feelings about this. Either this lady needs serious mental help, or she just legitimately wants to be in the cage with lions.

“But Bethie! No one who is mentally fit and sound would actually want to be around dangerous creatures!”

Bullshit. There are thousands of morons who flirt with danger by playing with lethal animals. The only difference between this woman and Steve Irwin or Jack Hannah is that she doesn’t have a tv show. Maybe she’s like those tv show hosts, hm? Maybe the “molest nature for advertising dollars” culture has given her the impression that personally interacting with wild beasts is a good idea. Maybe she is crazy, but maybe she is just a product of modern culture.

And she’s not alone. Every year hundreds of people break into animal enclosures at zoos. It’s a global issue, too, so it’s not simply another case of entitled Americans. Sometimes the people are drunk and want to screw around with the monkeys. Sometimes they’re not drunk and want to cuddle the polar bears because they look so soft and fluffy-wuffy. Sometimes they do it on a dare. But often, the people who hop the fences and climb into the enclosures with what should be wild animals simply think they can help.

Let’s face it, zoos suck. Even if you like zoos, you have to admit that it’s got to be hard to be a wild animal stuck inside a 20×20 pen. I don’t see how anyone could argue that, even though there are plenty who will. The vast majority of people who climb into the animal enclosures at zoos are doing it to try and help the creatures they see as suffering.

Is that crazy? Really?

Misguided, sure. Impotent, definitely. The owners of the zoo are not suddenly going to say, “Gee, you know what, Fred? Maybe we shouldn’t take a creature that’s used to having a fifty square mile range to travel and stick him in a tiny box for the rest of his life. That hippie really made me think.” That is just not going to happen. But the intentions are to ease animal suffering.

Not crazy.

Not smart, either. There are ways to go about effecting change, and they don’t really involve handing out cookies to creatures with five inch fangs. I mean, sheesh, lady…LIONS. At least the dude who slithered through the stone vagina wasn’t really in any physical danger. If there weren’t cameras, he probably wouldn’t have gotten in any trouble, either. He could just say he was trying to become a “born again”.

*ducks rotten tomato*

Really? That’s where you’re drawing the bad joke line? *sigh* Fine. *grumble* I’m sorry for the pun so early in the morning.

You know what? Now that I’m thinking about it, I bet this woman really could help the lions. These beasts, these glorious wild cats have to live every aspect of their lives in forced opposition to their natural instincts. This woman wants to help? I say, let her! Don’t ban her from the zoo. Give her a key to the lion enclosure after hours and let her work her magic.

Why, I bet it’s been ages since those lions have had themselves a good hunt.

Thus concludes the Morning Musing for Tuesday, June 24, 2014. Boy that took an unexpectedly dark turn at the end there, eh? Maybe I’ll go write a short story where I kill some people off. Seems to me I’m in that kind of mood. Muahaha….