Subourbon Mom


Dr. Fauci – The Personal Touch
September 23, 2020, 5:00 pm
Filed under: Misc. Humor | Tags: , , , , , ,

I don’t know about you, but lately I’ve been receiving personal voicemails from Dr. Fauci, or at least someone who does a damn good impression of him, offering helpful hints about how to handle the virus. My college-age child also received one of these calls, and frankly, they’re just too good not to share. Of course, the real Dr. Fauci doesn’t have time to make personal calls, but boy do I wish he could…so hit the play buttons and enjoy – you’re not going to hear these on CNN.

I was able to track down Dr. Fauci and arrange for a rare – ok, it’s never happened before – Subourbonmom interview. Ok, calm down. I know this blog is outrageously popular, but it’s not the real Dr. Fauci, and I am clearly no Dan Rather or Barbara Walters. However, I would LOVE to conduct an interview with him for real some day.

No matter how you feel about Dr. Fauci, respect those around you and wear a mask – you don’t know what issues they may be facing or what people they have in their lives that would suffer catastrophic results if they contracted the virus. We flattened the curve – now let’s keep it that way until we have a vaccine available for everyone.



2020 – An Ingrown Hair on Humanity
August 20, 2020, 5:00 pm
Filed under: Misc. Humor, Parenting, Travel | Tags: , , , , , ,

Over the last two weeks we have launched one of our birds out of the nest and into real adulthood, and gently booted the other one back into fake adulthood (a.k.a. college).

Launch

During this process I learned a few things:

  1. My kids have a lot of shit – that we helped them move around the country, put up on walls and launder.
  2. They have better decorating taste than I will ever have
  3. If you rent a scooter (think razor scooter) to tour a city, just know that if you sucked at Mario cart, you will also suck at riding one of those
  4. You can switch the way a refrigerator door swings – seriously, I didn’t know you could do that at all
  5. Nashville will either make you start to hate fried chicken or ruin it because whenever you have it anywhere else it just won’t be good enough

One of the funniest things I heard was on the 10-hour car ride to launch Daughter #1 into her new, adult life in Nashville. We had lots of time to talk about what it might be like and what had happened over the last 6 months.  But I think she put it best when describing how a lot of recent graduates must feel around this time as they get jobs or head to college:

Mom, my life has been like an ingrown hair.  For a while I was growing and then I got stuck, but I was still growing, and it got all irritated.  All of the sudden I sprang out and I’ve moved, and I’m free!

From the mouths of babes, people – 2020 has been an ingrown hair of a year.  First it was growing and happening, and then it got stuck, but things were still happening. The world got irritated, but we’re trying to treat it with a salve of Dr. Faucci, the CDC and governors trying their best; with first responders and hospital staff and caregivers; and most of all, with sympathy, empathy and patience.

We’re still waiting to spring out of this craziness, but when we do, the relief will probably feel the same.

(I tried to find a funny ingrown hair meme – please don’t ever do that.  You can’t un-see what comes up.)



Quaran-Tuck It – Part 1
July 15, 2020, 5:00 pm
Filed under: Exercise, Misc. Humor, Posts | Tags: , , , , ,

We’ve all seen the memes about gaining weight while under quarantine, and how we should all be trying to better ourselves during this time.  So, after 4 months of working from home, I have come to the conclusion that the Quarantine-15 is a real thing, and that I’m pretty much as lazy as I thought I was. I was secretly assuming it was me just being too hard on myself.

I don’t have any excuses.

I have extra time because I’m not commuting, and I can drop in a load of laundry when I need to get away from my computer and stretch my legs.  I live out in the country, so not going to the gym should have been replaced by lots of activity outside, like running (which is solitary and free) or the 50 million online exercise apps available. I even am lucky enough to have a pool, which I’ve been in only to just stand in the shallow end, like a hippopotamus.

Instead of bettering myself, I have coped by consuming copious amounts of wine, opening the fridge and staring at its contents for minutes at a time before eating yet another vat of pimiento cheese, watching too much tv after dinner and reading smut novels with heaving breasts and raised lettering on the covers (some are so bad even a book addict like me has to put them down).

smut

I have not learned a new language, edited my novels, blogged nearly enough, or even tried more than one or two new recipes.

So here’s what I’ve decided to do.  I’m going to create a short Quaran- Tuck It List (like a bucket list) of things to do during the pandemic that might get me moving forward again.  Feel free to make your own, or if you need some accountability, share your list in the comments!

  1. Lock the refrigerator on a timer.
  2. Attempt to not drink any alcohol for one week.  (Don’t judge – there’s only so much I can inflict on the Fam all at once.)
  3. Sell stuff on my local FaceBook market page – yep, Hubby is probably going to have a heart attack when he reads this. Dude, RELAX….I’m not touching your t-shirt drawers.
  4. Let the cats live. I CANNOT clean up anymore animal body fluids. If one of them shits on my outdoor cushions one more time, I’m going to lose it.
  5. Actually do the stretches every doctor I’ve seen has said I should be doing.  The problem with thinking of yourself as 30 in your head is that your body likes to laugh and go, “let me remind you…”
  6. Edit and finish the fantasy novel I started 20 years ago. Not 50 Shades of Gray fantasy…magic and swords and stuff. If I had to write the 50 Shades of Gray novel it would have ended after her interview with him and all the red flags she could only miss if she’d been locked in a box for the first 20 years of her life.
  7. Write an alternative novel to 50 Shades.
  8.  Create an author website page.
  9. Publish a bunch of these blogs in a book so future generations can just hand it over to their therapists and say, “See? It’s genetic…”
  10. Start a workout program to do in my pool (see next week’s blog).

What’s your Quaran-Tuck It list?

Qlist



First Responders – Shit Got Real
May 13, 2020, 12:00 pm
Filed under: Misc. Humor | Tags: , , , , , , , , ,

Beware – this one is not for the squeamish
or the judgemental….

First-Responder-web-pic

Amid all the thank-yous and celebrations for our First Responders as the pandemic rages around the country, it’s important to remember that these extra acts of bravery and self-sacrifice are in addition to the normal stupid and often really gross stuff they have to deal with.

A friend of mine who is a firefighter submitted this to me and said I could use it.  (Hopefully, he or I will start another blog about the things they have to deal with – the funny, the gross and Darwinian selection in action.) So here goes – (reminder: this is not for the squeamish!):

I got sent to Station 4 for the medic unit.  A very nice medic named Christy (names have been changed, yadyadayada…) was my partner. We checked out all the equipment;  unfortunately, we never discussed a plan for The Secreting Poop Monster.

The Secreting Poop Monster was found passed out on the floor of a bus shelter.  Christy and I pull up, and “Stacie,” the officer at the scene, met us. 

“That guys smells like shit. That’s why I’m over here. Good luck,” she said. 

Christy and I go over and assess the Poop Monster. He is drunk and hypothermic, and has been laying on the wet floor of the bus shelter all night.  Poop is everywhere on the floor.  It is all over him – as plentiful as trash on Sunday morning after the Virginia Garlic Festival.  

At Christy’s suggestion, I paved the cot with two layers of blue absorbent napkins. Then I paved that layer with two more layers of bed sheets.  Together, Christy and I picked up the Poop Monster and laid him on the cot. He soaked through all the layers instantly. 

Christy yelled “Cover him up!”

I had the presence of mind to bring two more sheets and a blanket.  I instantly threw all three layers down over top of the patient, and Christy worked feverishly to tuck in both sides and his feet. Honestly – it was like trying to wrap a soaked car-washing sponge in a dry towel, and expecting the towel to absorb all the water from the sponge. Within seconds, brown stains began appearing on the TOPSIDE of the outside blanket that was covering him. 

Christy and I had both dressed in full Star Trek, Season Three science fiction outfits. We put the Poop Monster in the back of the medic unit and Christy yelled, “JUST GO! Priority One – Lights and sirens!”

Four minutes later we were unloading the Poop Monster at the hospital. That medic unit likely has a bent frame from me slamming over speed bumps at 50 mph.  We wheeled him into his room – and then, he topped 29.5 years of disgusting calls, including The Bug Lady of Station 5 who had a gangrenous, open toe, a bleeding sore on her chest, a prolapsed uterus and lice, which required me to take a shower in paint thinner.  

Christy and I had positioned the cot containing the Poop Monster along side the regular ER hospital bed. The plan was for the two of us to position ourselves on opposing sides of the cot, reach down into the lower abyss, grab hold of the leading edge of the bottom-most sheet on the cot, pick up and slide the Poop Monster over to the hospital bed.  

All was good. I had my side, and Christy had hers. We had agreed she was the point person and would give the orders. I was looking her straight in the eye across the cot, waiting for the “shift” command.  Suddenly, she gets this puzzled look on her face.  She pulled out her gloved hand, looked at her index finger in utter disbelief. 

In the most perfectly unruffled, even-tempered voice that I have ever heard, she said, “A maggot has just crawled from this man’s ass, and it is now wagging its little tail on my index finer.  Oh my God – what should I do?”

Sure enough, I looked across the cot and poor Christy was staring, fixated, at a white maggot.

“Drown it,” I said.  I grabbed her by the arm, dragging her over to the sink and washed her gloved hand with hot water.”

And that, gentle readers, is the kind of thing First Responders have to deal with during regular times – in addition to the pandemic crises they are being called on to handle as well.  The Poop Monster may have been an extreme case, but remember: First Responders take care of people from all walks of life, in all living conditions and with all kinds of ailments, mental and physical. They frequently put themselves in harm’s way so others can survive.  So the next time you get one of those solicitations from your local First Responders for donations, be generous and be kind.  Write that check and remember to give way on the road when you see them coming. Someday it could be you or your loved one.

Or, they could just be covered in shit.

Either way – be generous.

Be kind.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 



Dungeons, Dragons and D*!dos, Oh My!

If people judged me by the catalogs I receive, they would probably say I am a woman somewhere between the age of 12 and 75, I prefer being athletic outside (true), I occasionally have an interest in high-end hunting attire (nope), and I may have a fetish for dressing like I play Dungeons and Dragons (also no).

It’s the last catalog topic that I find the most fun.  The Pyramid Collection catalog,  which I receive because I somehow got on a list, is a clothing catalog for wanna-be wiccans, female Renaissance Faire attendees, and those on the fantasy side of Goth (not the EMO, skeletal, dyed black hair and white-face makeup Goths). It bills itself as “Myth, Magick, Fantasy & Romance.”   All true, if your idea of romance is to meet fellow wiccans wearing flowing blouses with  lacy sleeves (think Seinfeld’s “Puffy Shirt”),

puffy

you want to meet prince charming after a joust at your local Medieval Times,

Ren Dress

or your idea of fantasy is to meet a fellow enthusiast at ComiCon while waiting to do a meet-and-greet with the cast of Outlander or Game of Thrones.

Dress 1

But the most interesting thing about this catalog is that right in the middle, where the staples are and where it falls open is a double-page spread of a variety of sex toys for women.  So, in addition to buying the many fantasy-related accoutrements, you can also purchase some toys to help you relieve the loneliness that apparently is assumed will follow the initial purchase. It’s genius, really – cater to women’s fantasies, then cater to them not panning out – all in one catalog.

Perhaps other catalogs should follow suit, in their own way:  Athleta and LuLu Lemon could also put a spread in their catalogs that include the inevitable cheese boards, pizzas and wine that somehow seem to follow those departed New Year’s resolutions.

W CatalogMen’s catalogs could offer sleek suits and upscale weekend wear, but also include a spread with wings, onion rings and a selection of porn (not that I condone porn in any way) when the suits don’t hide the douchey-ness beneath, and they once again are seated with their buddies on a Friday night at BW3s instead of out on a date.

I just can’t believe this marketing trend hasn’t caught on before – addressing the “Who I Want to Be” part of the customer, as well as the “Ok, This is Who I Am” portion, all in one place.

Land’s End is gonna have to step up their game.

 

 

 




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