Subourbon Mom


If You Must Beard, Beardazzle It!
August 26, 2019, 6:01 pm
Filed under: Misc. Humor | Tags: , , , , , ,

(Before I go on, full disclosure: I don’t like beards.  On anyone. If someone wants to kiss me and their face feels like a dog, I’d rather have the dog. They always smell like the last food that passed through them, even if the guy says he cleans it all the time.  And I don’t care if you’re the hottest guy in town with a beard – all I see is a rat poking its head through a bush. I know lots of girls find them sexy – just not me.)

I don’t know about your town, but mine has a lot of bearded men walking around, and it’s not even No-Shave-November. I don’t mean men with the closely-trimmed beards that are meant to accentuate the jawline or the 5-day stubble that looks rugged, even on your office IT guy. I’m talking about those squirrelly, nasty Duck Dynasty beards.

First, why is it always the guys who can’t grow a decent beard that always want to try this particular fashion?  Seriously, play to your strengths – you look like you walked through a dark spider web. Just shave it and try something else.

For those who actually can produce a full Moses, we know that it’s probably false advertising.

I wouldn’t care about beards if there wasn’t so much hypocrisy around them. Men often have criticized women for wearing makeup (“What do you really look like under all that?” or “Why are you spackling your face?”), but beards are the male equivalent of concealer.  Excessive beards hide a lot of flaws like acne, a weak chin, or Nixon jowels.  ZZ Top beards can even hide the shape of a man’s face.  You might think you’re getting a Brad Pitt jawline, when in fact there’s an Adrian Brody lurking beneath.

BM-GANDALF-2Another misleading face bush is the long, Gandalf chin beard – you know, the one that points like an arrow to the guy’s crotch (or beer belly).  That thing is no different than dramatic eyeliner and lipstick that says “Look over here, and not at the zits on my forehead.”

rubeus-hagrid

 

And guys, we know it’s not because “it’s cold.” Judging by your prison pallor and baby soft hands, it appears many of you Hagrid wanna-bees work in offices, which means in climate-controlled environments. Unless you are an avid hunter, you can’t claim to need it to keep your face warm.  Even if you live in Minnesota, the sprint from the car to your office does not warrant growing an entire sheep on your face. If you do, chances are your just going to have snotsicles hanging from it anyway, and that’s just gross.

And finally, as one of my girlfriends pointed out to me recently, kissing somebody with an untrimmed beard is like kissing a Wookie.   Girls (or guys) if you’re a Star Wars fan with a Wookie fetish, put on your Princess Leia headphones and  go for it.

So, bottom line is, if you’re going to clothe your face, go all the way.  Do some beardazzling and make it fun.  Throw some glitter in it, or some of those fancy beads middle-aged women love to wear.  Go Viking and braid it, and add some silver and gold for interest. aM3uinz

Just don’t grow a herpe curtain and think we’re not on to you.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 



Does This Smell Like Fish?
October 16, 2018, 5:05 pm
Filed under: Food/Drink | Tags: , , , , , , ,

I recently had a restaurant fail that made me realize:

  1. Food should always be clearly labeled
  2. Not everything “tastes like chicken”
  3. I have a very weak sense of smell
  4. Customers should not be too proud or shy to ask questions

A month or so ago I went to a local chain restaurant for lunch with work friends.  I like to try new things on the menu and saw this:

restaurant menu

I like mushrooms and Brussels sprouts. I don’t know what bonito is (I do now), but it sounds like another kind of fancy mushroom, so I’ll get it. And no, I didn’t just Google it because I was being polite and not using my phone at the table.

This is what was delivered to my table:

It MOVED.

I freaked out until I realized the heat from the bread was making whatever that was wave like things you see swirling around your feet at the beach – they don’t hurt you, but you don’t want to think about it much, either.

I ate about three pieces before I realized that my friends were looking at me like I’d just pulled a rabbit carcass out of my pocket, put it on the table and kept eating.  About the same time, the smell emanating from the plate finally penetrated my sinuses and I got a whiff of…fish.  And not a good, seasoned salmon or tilapia, either.  It smelled like fish that had sat on the counter too long and the cats were thinking they would reach Nirvana if I would just let them have it.

My stomach flopped and I stopped eating.  Lacy, my co-worker with a five-year-old’s palette, took pity and offered me one of her BBQ sliders. (Lacy I will not make fun of you again for at least a month).

I didn’t get sick, and I know I’m partly to blame for not asking questions. But seriously, who puts mushrooms, Brussels sprouts AND FISH SHAVINGS on a flatbread? And what part of the fish did that come from?  I don’t think you can shave anything on a fish except maybe the skin, and I sure as hell don’t want to eat fish skin unless its salmon and deliciously crunchy inside a sushi roll.

fish beard

The only kind of fish shaving should happen here.

 



The Fast & The Furious – “Stealing” Cars at Horse Shows
July 12, 2018, 6:00 pm
Filed under: Misc. Humor, Sports | Tags: , , , , , , ,

(Names have been changed to protect…well, you be the judge.)

Recently my friend Amy’s daughter Grace was taken to the hospital after a fall from her horse during a horse show.  Don’t worry – she’s fine. But what happened on the way to the hospital just shows that there’s humor even in frantic and scary situations.

As the EMTs were loading Grace into the ambulance, Amy called out to Grace’s boyfriend to take her car and follow the ambulance.  Eager to help, Dominic raced across the showgrounds, found the car and was soon trailing the ambulance on the highway.

Meanwhile, in the ambulance, a clearly concussed Grace keeps squinting out the back window. Noticing her daughter starting to strain to see through the rear window she asked, “What, honey?”

“I – I think that’s Dominic behind us,” Grace mumbled.

Amy looked out the back window and, sure enough, it was Dominic following them – but in the wrong car.   

amazingAmy tried in vain to get Dominic’s attention by waving her arms, making a “cut/stop” motion with her hand across her throat and mouthing that’s not my car! Dominic had no idea what she was doing – he was busy changing the preset radio stations from gospel to country and rock.

When they got to the hospital, Dominic rushed to Grace’s side.

“You ok, babe?” he asked.

Grace chuckled softly. “Uh-huh. But You’re a criminal.”

“What?” Dominic asked.

“You’re a criminal – that’s not my mom’s car.”

Amy added, “You have to go back to the show and get my car – it has my purse and ID in it!”

Because he’s a good boy, Dominic promptly freaked out.  He jumped into the borrowed car, drove back to the showgrounds and did what any red-blooded American would do – parked the car in the same spot and used his t-shirt to wipe the steering wheel, radio buttons and door handle for fingerprints. As far as we know, no one was the wiser for his mistake.

All this is funny by itself, and typical of my friends.  But here’s what I still makes me laugh:

  1. I still wonder what the owners of the “stolen” car thought when they got back in at the end of the day – the radio stations were different and the car seat was in a different position.
  2. What did the other drivers behind the ambulance think when they saw Amy waving and mouthing words from the back window of the ambulance? That she was a psych patient that needed more meds?  That the ambulance was secretly a rape van and she was being kidnapped? Or that she was celebrating because England beat Sweden in the World Cup?
  3. Grace and my daughter (D2) look out for each other at these events.  One time, Grace and Dominic raced to our house to get D2’s rescue inhaler while she sucked on oxygen at the end gate.  D2 has accompanied Grace to the hospital a couple of times now, and each time she takes a selfie. It’s what friends are for…keepin’ it real…

Jesse Selfie3



You Really Can Get Everything at Walmart!

I don’t know how or why the Jesus Freaks find me, but they do – and it’s usually at Walmart.  Now, before you get all upset, know that I do believe, but I believe in the privacy of my head and heart.

I’ve had two people tell me in the check-out line that it’s their second birthday, as in, they’re Born Again.  (Personally, I don’t think it’s the best metaphor – why would anyone want to leave their warm, dark cocoon where they have been fed and grown with no effort for the cold, bright world where every day can be a struggle?  How about something like “Refried” instead?)

Ummmm…so you’re Born Again. First, you look tall for a two-year-old.  Second, I’ve had 47 birthdays, and I never once told anyone in a check-out line when they happened.  Third, why do you think I need to know you and Jesus are besties when I’m standing here trying to figure out who wore the superman glasses better – George Clooney or Denzel Washington?

But the best encounter happened yesterday.  I was standing in the freezer aisle at Walmart trying not to buy yet another bag of tater tots, when two teenage girls approached me.

“Excuse me, M’am?” they asked.

“Huh?”

“Hi. Um, would you like us to pray for you?”

“What, here?” I asked.

“Yes.  Or is there someone you would like us to pray for?”

Oh my God, this is a blog happening right now.

“My family – they’ve got issues.”

“Okay. Would you mind if we lay hands on you, or is that too weird?”

“That is definitely too weird.”

Then they said a very nice prayer in the middle of the freezer aisle.

So why me? I recently asked my gym trainer if I have a serious RBF (Resting Bitch Face), because whenever I go to other gyms, the trainers never talk to me, while they talk to everyone else who is new. And it’s not because I’m doing things correctly, either.  She said no (probably for self-protection), that mine wasn’t bad. I just always look like I’m concentrating (#thestruggleisreal).

Why do people feel the need to approach me and tell me all about their relationship with God/Jesus?  Do I have a RSMF (Resting Save Me Face)?  You can’t tell me my RSMF is worse than the woman smacking her kid in the child-abuse aisle, or the addict who’s hanging around in the parking lot asking for cash, or the people who live in their camper in the back of the parking lot. I’m pretty sure they might need help from Above a little more than I do.

So please, let me keep my headphones on while I play my soothing spa music and shop.  And while I don’t want it to happen again, it just proves that you really can get everything at Walmart.



The Best Catalog Ever

The holiday season is upon us. Christmas music plays incessantly on local radio stations, pumpkin spice everything has been replaced with cinnamon everything and the marketing onslaught is in full swing.

Now I’m all for marketing – a store’s got to do something to get your attention amid the mind-boggling Elf on a Shelf displays. But come on, Marketers, every day can’t be “The BIGGEST SALE EVER.”  I don’t care how much your store has to sell by the end of the year – no marketing email should ever be labeled URGENT unless Victoria has decided to reveal her secret, or I’m getting something good for free that doesn’t include shipping or some God-awful tote bag I’ll never take in public.

Along with emails, the catalogs are also rolling in faster than sexual harassment accusations in the media.

In two days I got 19 catalogs in the mail. That’s right…19 catalogs. But the number of catalogs isn’t what I’m here to write about. In fact, I love looking through them every morning while I drink my coffee. (Catalogs are window shopping for people who have an aversion to other people.) It’s funny how at this time of year I will actually consider buying weird, only-funny-to-me gifts that I would never spend the money on at any other time. In previous years I’ve ordered squirrel spray, Sasquatch Band-Aids and key chains with made up nicknames on them.

But in this latest batch of shopper’s crack, I found two catalogs whose marketing teams failed (in my humble opinion).

When I saw this cover on a catalog for toy horse models, I couldn’t decide who the target audience was – was it kids who want to be like this model with the BRF, who clearly would rather be anywhere else? Or parents who want to believe their twelve-year-old still plays with model horses instead of obsessively checking the likes on her Finsta? (I have nothing personal against this model – she’s obviously very attractive and was told how to pose and smile.) Perhaps a better image for the cover would have been a younger kid happily playing on the floor on a rainy day with all the crap in the catalog. To the parents it says, “You are buying yourself some peace and quiet.” To the kid, it says, “This will bring you happiness until you can wear them down and they give you your own pony to keep in the garage.”

The other cover fail was on this American Girl catalog:

Nothing says I’m a stalker like hugging your best friend while also clutching a doll that looks and dresses exactly like her.

But in all of this marketing blitz, I realized there is a catalog I have never received, that I think a lot of people might want to order from as well. It’s filled with all my favorite things that I can’t by in a store, like these:

  • Life do-overs
  • The smell of my mother’s garage
  • Knowing how to speak and understand animals in their language
  • The ability to fly
  • One consequence-free bitch slap on the person of my choice
  • Opportunities to suck words back into my head that should never have escaped
  • Time to spend with those who aren’t here anymore
  • Dog kisses
  • An interview with King Arthur
  • The feeling you get when you snuggle with your kids

 

What would your catalog have in it?

 




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