Monday, May 30, 2011

Don't Fall Asleep on The Beach. Bad Things Happen to You.

Cal, 16, had his streak of "unfortunate incidents" continue on Sunday when he fell asleep on the beach and had his name written on his chest with SPF 70 sunblock.

(See Saturday's incident at Epic Theater at Town Center Here.)  

The family was spending the day at Flagler Beach with friends when the teen fell fast asleep on a boogie board.  After trying to unsuccessfully rouse him several times to suggest changing positions, his father wrote "Cal" on his chest with sunblock.  

"There was some argument about what we should draw on his chest," said Chris.  "Someone suggested a heart, or smiley faces.  But I just wrote 'Cal.' "  

The group was certain that the teen would wake up as he began to do this, but he did not.  Cal continued to sleep for "about an hour."  

They enlisted the help of several bikini-clad girls to help poke and prod him and call out his name in their attempts to wake him up.

"Cal!  Cal,"  one girl named Jen yelled, poking him in the shoulder.  She and her friend Chelsea were visiting from Virginia.  

"He won't wake up," shrugged Jen, as she and Chelsea walked off.  

The teen slept for a while longer before another girl, Rachel, poked him with a chair as she walked by.  "Hey Cal! Nice chest," she said.  

"I woke up, and noticed what they had done and I was so annoyed," said Cal.  "I don't remember any of the other girls that tried to wake me up.  When I'm sleeping, I'm sleeping."  

Upon wiping the sunblock off, a bright "CAL" imprint was emblazoned into his chest.  

A member of the group, Meghan, suggested he should attach a "Hi, my name is" sticker above the burn, then go stand in front of  the cute female lifeguard who had just set up station one hundred yards away.  

"There would hardly need to be any more words exchanged, Calvin.  Just point to your chest," giggled Meghan. 

"I didn't think that suggestion was funny," said Cal, as he turned over on his stomach and fell back asleep.  

Saturday, May 28, 2011

Boys Using the Ladies' Room

Cal, 16, desperate to use the  restroom on Saturday  immediately after his  viewing of "Thor," inadvertently entered the women's restroom at the Epic Theater at Town Center.

"I sort of noticed there were no urinals," said the teenager.  "But I had to go to the bathroom so bad because I got a refill on that large Coke, and I couldn't go back out and find the men's room."  

As the teen was in the stall, he said he heard "women's voices."  It was then that  the reality hit him that he was, indeed, in the women's restroom.  

"I saw him go in the girls' bathroom," laughed his younger brother, Wesley, who immediately summoned his father.   

They both were waiting  with a camera and took this picture of Calvin exiting the women's bathroom. 

When asked why he didn't leave the women's restroom once he realized he was there, he said he had already began to urinate. 

"I was midstream, and I couldn't, like, just stop.  You know."  

Thursday, May 26, 2011

Squeeeee! Clotildes and Souvenirs!

Souvenir de la Malmaison is blooming!  :)

Clotilde Soupert, Cl.
Clotilde  Souperts, Cl.

Clotildes under the birdcage arbor....

And...sort of random , but I found this on Chris' phone when I was taking pictures of my flowers.  Thought it was is Wes at the Marineland Beach, FL.

Wednesday, May 25, 2011

Semi-Wordless Wednesday, Aside from Comments That I Couldn't Help. (Disturbing Family Pictures)

I'm curious who was REALLY on board with this.  And who had to be coerced.  

Acid washed denim and mullets!  SWEET!

I'm not sure what this family is into?  Can someone help me figure it out?  Anyone?  Anyone?

I sort of trust them.  They look a little quirky....   Except the moody, hormonal one that is scowling in the front.  

There are no words....I just want to see a "Where are They Now?" for the kids.  No, for real.

Going to DisneyWorld makes me nervous because of people like this.  

Who thought THIS  was a good idea?   

"One of these things is not like the others..."

She's holding the kid's hand, because it looks like it's ready for flight.

This is just unfortunate.  

See the glee?  Atta girl.  

Boys are not to be trusted.  At any age.

I'm not certain, but Santa doesn't look so jolly.

Let's wrap ourselves in dead animals and sit under hot lights for a memorable family photo, kids!  

The ones on the right side must have been the ones with the idea.  The ones on the left, particularly the one in the left corner, thinks the idea is shit.  I would have to agree.

When the Smiths of West Virginia mistook their "small pet" for a really pissy cat.

Casey Anthony was such a crazy kid.    

The cats look SO pissed.

Why the bathtub?  Why the gun?  Why the baby?  Why the dog?  I can understand the pink gun...because if **I** bought a gun, it WILL be pink.

Seasons Greetings from EVERYONE except little Susie.  Because she hates your f-ing guts.  And she would disembowel you, given the chance.  

Five guesses at what this family's hobby is.  GO.

On the online dating site, they bonded over the weaponry and parrots.

  "It's just a phase, Gloria.  Just a phase. He'll be back to those bow ties in no time."  
(from  Except for the comments.  Those are mine.)

Tuesday, May 24, 2011

Australians are Badasses

A Facebook friend just posted this.   

I am no expert on languages/accents,  but this dude sounds Australian.  

Australia has always been somewhere that I have wanted to visit.  It intrigues me; yet it horrifies me at the same time.  

It horrifies me, because several years ago, I read "In a Sunburned Country" by Bill Bryson.  I would highly recommend it.  

(I would recommend Bill Bryson's books, in general, too.  He's awesome.) 

This book was entertaining, but it contained the single most disturbing passage I have ever read in a book.  

Like, ever. 

In my entire life.  

And here it is, for YOU.   Let it disturb you, too.  Let it mill around in your mind.  Think about it.  

And think about what bad asses Australians are.  

"It (Australia) has more things that will kill you than anywhere else.  Of the world's ten most poisonous snakes, all are Australian.  Five of its creatures - the funnel web spider, box jellyfish, blue-ringed octopus, paralysis tick and stonefish - are the most lethal of their type in the world.  This is a country where even the fluffiest of caterpillars can lay you out with a toxic nip, where seashells will not just sting you but actually GO for you.  

Pick up an innocuous cone shell from a Queensland beach, as innocent tourists are all too wont to do, and you will discover than the little fellow inside is not just astoundingly swift and testy but exceedingly venomous.  

If you are not stung or pronged to death in some unexpected manner, you may be fatally chomped by sharks or crocodiles, or carried helplessly out to sea by irresistible currents, or left to stagger to an unhappy death in the baking outback.  It's a tough place." 

Now, watch this father and daughter try to take care of this spider problem on the ceiling of their home.  All by themselves.  With a piece of Tupperware and a stool.  


Sunday, May 22, 2011

Perfect J. Lo Butts and French Fries

We went to the beach today.  

And this girl  (see above) was next to us with two dudes.   

The first dude was in a Speedo (RED LIGHT, RED LIGHT, RED LIGHT = not from around  heeeyah).   The other was pudgy and rotund.   He, obviously, enjoyed the finer things in life.  

 (My interpretation.) 

The dudes played ping pong in the surf.  

She also does TRX, kettlebell and weight training on a regular basis and could kick my husband's ass from here to China, just for fun.  

She's even more tough because she from Boston, and she can be  "mean."   Like, crazy-eyed mean.   I've seen this girl be "mean" when she wants to be.  And it frightened the little Iowa girl in me, to see a Boston girl get "mean."   

Midwesterners prefer the passive aggressive moves, but Bostonians get right in the face and tell it like it is.  And it's scary.  

Meghan is also the bikini queen; however, she is the one who took this picture.    Because, yes, even SHE was impressed.

Because...I mean....LOOK AT THAT!  

These are the reasons that this butt pisses me off:

1.  I don't know if you can tell, but she is eating Cheetos.  The BITCH.

2.  I am not really sure I want to deprive myself that much.  I really don't.  Between skinny and an Angus burger and a large fries with extra barbeque sauce......meh?   Meh....

3.  I think that this butt was mostly genes, though.  I am not certain that it was exericse.  She stuffed her face  most of the time time, like it was genes.  Or Bulimia...  (Case in point:  the Cheetos.)

4.  I'm sure she has never had a baby.  And having three, I feel my time is over.   All hope is gone.  But, my time really never began, because I have always been fluffy.  So...where does that leave me?   Dr. Robert Rey, where are you?

5. No, for real.  

Dr. Robert Rey...whatever happened to Dr. Rey?  That was, like, the best t.v. show that E! TV had on it.  Hands DOWN.  I'd do a tummy tuck in two seconds flat.

6.  I want to wear a bikini just once.  Or at least a comfortable MAILLOT.  

(My suit today was NOT COMFORTABLE.  Nor was it cute.  It was functional.  It held my boobs in place, and it might  have had a hole in the ass, as far as YOU know.  There was much spandex and lycra.)

7.  ...but I want to eat like a freaking heifer.    Because everything is SOOOOO tasty.  

8.  That's why I despise her.

9.  And it is so irrational. 

10.  She SOOOOO knew we took this picture of her.   

Cliches and Diarrhea Fests

This morning, I filled in for the praise director at church, which meant I had to whip mad piano skillz out of my butt for an hour.

The director/regular piano player was out supporting her husband, who is this Ironman triathelete that does these amazing races that involve running more miles than I can hold up fingers, bicycling, and swimming in the ocean at dawn.

 There is no way in hell anyone is getting me in the ocean at at dawn.  Because everyone knows  (or SHOULD know, I'm telling you nowthat  dawn, and dusk,  is when the nursing sharks come out.

She is just this amazingly supportive wife and is always there to  cheer him on.

My husband doesn't participate in these events and neither do I.

And even if he did,  I am not sure I would go to them and cheer for him because these races begin at some freaking ridiculous hour, like 6 a.m.   Which means, wakey-wakey time would have to be, like, 2 a.m., which is downright OBSCENE.

I honestly think I would just  lie in bed and wait for the text message and/or phone call to arrive with the results.

I would do my best to try to SOUND supportive ~ either with my voice ~ or with a lot of exclamation points, question marks and hearts made out of "less-than signs" and threes.

(Example:  "Honey!~~!!!!!!!  How did the race go???!!!  <3<3<3  I LOVE YOU, my favorite GUY!!!! <3<3<3)

So, I was left to my own devices today, being pretty much the sole musician in the "praise band," and everything.

I usually play the guitar, but that didn't go too well last time (a story for another place and time).   We do have a bass player, but a slew of P&W songs really can't be done with a lone bass player, I don't think.   I could be wrong...

So, it was MOI, on the piano.

Which brings back ten zillion horrific memories of Things That I Have Been in Therapy  for years and years.  Because everyone knows that when a little kid is signed up for piano lessons, it not only includes the lessons.

Oh, hellllllz, no.

It includes Piano Recitals, where the child is scrutinized and graded and required to memorize pieces of music which are NEVER normal songs that a child would be enthusiastic about playing.  They are always stupid songs, like "The Turkey Dance," or "Fugue in Boogie Woogie."

And although some children thrive off of this sort of shit, I did not. It made me ill.

I was a nervous child anyhow, and I had a nervous stomach.  And I did not believe myself to be particularly gifted with playing the piano, and I effed up a lot.  Which did NOTHING for the recital jitters.

So, for weeks before, it would be a diarrhea fest in my bathroom.

So, today, all these feelings came back to me.  However, not only was I PLAYING the piano, I had to sing at the same time.  Which I don't know if you know?  But it sucks monkey is difficult.    And singing is not my strong suit.

I would LIKE to think I was all "Alicia Keys" up there. But I. Am. So. Not.

And to be "sort of" in charge of a "band" is also really horrifying.    Because you're "in charge."  Sort of.  And if there is anything I don't like being, is "in charge."

When I'M in charge on things, it is a bit of a free for all:  As in, everyone for himself.  Just do the best you can, folks...I'm trying to get through this experience without throwing the hell up.

A "real" leader of a band is much more concerned with the "ensemble" in "Are we all together?

In sync?"


On the right beat?"

Are we all singing the right lyrics?

Right notes?"

I just want it to be over.

Because I feel like such a poser.  And a bit in,

"Who is at the piano?"

"Oh, that's the pastor's wife."

"The pastor's wife plays the piano?"


"That's a bit cliche."

"Why yes!  Yes, it is!"

And I vowed to not be cliche when I married a pastor...yet here I am.  

I suppose this is the part where I am supporting my husband in my own way.

I wouldn't get up and drag my ass down to the shark infested beach to cheer him on as he swam, or wave at him as he zoomed past on a bicycle  me... or fling water at him as he trotted past me on the side of the road.

But I know him, and this is what is supportive to him.   Having me there, and POSING as a musician when the "real" musician is away  is important to him.  At least I think it is....

Because I love him, I'll do it.  And just DOING it  and facing my fear  is better than 25 years of therapy...

I'm convinced that these situations are exactly why flasks Xanax was created.

Friday, May 20, 2011

A few more....

I took a few more pictures today.   No matter HOW many times I took a picture of that "Maggie" rose, she turned out blurry.  What the heck.

My "Maggie" rose bloomed overnight...

Dianthus...I think.  I love the scrunched looking faces on them.

All the Memorial Day buds bloomed overnight, too.


My climbing yellow rose

Plumbago is blooming now.  

Aren't these the happiest flowers ever?

Thursday, May 19, 2011

Roses! And More Roses! And Flowers! Oh, My!

My antique roses are so fun to watch grow...they are loving the sunshine and the warmth of the Florida May weather.

They have been a little neglected, though, and  need another shot of Milorganite (ahem...literally CRAP from the good folks of Milwaukee) and epsom salts to give them a little boost.

And I have a little black spot going on there too.  Not sure how to handle that...

Anyhow...enjoy the pics of them (and some other ones I have randomly added, too)!
Mrs. B.R. Cant (an antique rose, purchased from Rose Petals Nursery in April)
Clotilde Soupert, Cl.   I planted this about six weeks ago.

My second Clotilde.  She isn't thriving as much as the one planted on the west side of the house.
A day or so ago, she was partially closed... now the Clotilde is fully open!!!

My Hoya is blooming.  This  almost never happens!

I stuck a sprig of this moss rose in the ground lass fall...and NOW look at it!

Mme. Joseph Schwartz, antique Rose
Mme. Joseph Schwartz.  I planted this as a baby about the end of March...

This Peggy Martin was a sadder required a little more TLC when she came to me.  But darn it...she is known as the Katrina Rose , so if a hurricane can't kill her, NEITHER CAN I!!!!

Louis Phillipe

Look at that shoot on the Louis Phillipe!

General Schablikine.  Lots of green, only one bloom.
That's Bouganvilla at the bottom of that trellis.  It was all killed off over the winter...and we are starting all over again.

And here is Maggie, today, before school:

My entryway plants...some friends gave me that hanging basket planter and it is my FAVORITE  PLANTER EVER.  I just planted new flowers in it...they haven't done much yet.  :-/  Perhaps in the next set of pics, right?

Sambac Jasmine, begonia (I think!), and my windchime

Sambac Jasmine is blooming!

Baby Souvenir de la Malmaison, and a new cool trellis I bought this past week.!

Zephirine Drouhin

Zephirine Drouhin