Squeak’s Squeals

You’ve heard right, folks, the great and powerful Squeak has a bad case of the blahs.  Two kids, the Neanderthal, a nightmare work schedule, the psychosis of an election year AND a new puppy, yet I’ve nothing to blog about… nothing that strikes me funny.  Any suggestions for getting me out of my rut?

I had a dream… a bizarre, disturbing, gothic-circus-freak type dream… about the guys from work, my kids and my mom… and I NEED to share it.  Let me start by setting some real-world visuals for you…

Bull is our resident tech.  He is a very large man, standing roughly 6′4″ and pushing 300 lbs.  He is very religious, very crude and vulgar and always dressed in khakis and a polo shirt.

Batman is my fellow code monkey.  He is tall and lanky with a Robert Downey, Jr.-style moptop and glasses.  He perpetually dresses in black from head to toe and I have yet to see him wear a shirt that wasn’t printed with a gray skull.

My mother is 4′11″ with glasses, artheritis, red hair and a nasty temper.

My daughters (note there are only TWO) are 4′6″ and 4′10″ and weigh 80 lbs. apiece.

Yesterday, I pulled myself out of bed, stumbled down the stairs, made a pot of Folgers 1/2 Caff coffee and nuked up a bowl of oatmeal sprinkled with Splenda Brown Sugar Blend (yes, Neanderthal’s heart attack has freaked me out… my kitchen looks like it was attacked by a health food store… my kids are gonna hate me).  But apparently, 1/2 Caff doesn’t work… two hours later, I was taking a nap.  And as I napped, I dreamed…

Bull, Batman and I decided to take a trip to the mall, accompanied by Batman’s friend - a midget dressed like a pilgrim.  Batman wore his standard head-to-toe black ensemble with his Jon Bon Jovi a la 1984 sunglasses.  Bull started out wearing his standard khakis and a gray polo with the company logo embroidered on the left side of the chest.

We entered the mall and went separate directions… I went one way, Bull went another way and Batman and Midget went somewhere else.

I finished my shopping rather quickly and exited the mall via some rear entrance.

As I walked through the door, immediately to my left stood my mother, holding aloft - with one arm - my younger daughter JellyBean (who was inside a blue mesh laundry bag).  JB was sobbing hysterically and the bridge of her nose was gashed open and bleeding.

“What happened?” I asked my suddenly super human strong mother.

“Knife fight.” She replied.

“Who won?” I asked.

“That one.” She said, pointing at a carbon copy twin of JellyBean laying in the grass, sound asleep, still holding the dagger which had sliced JB’s nose.  Roo lay sleeping in the grass not far away.

“Cool,” was my response as I walked past the four of them and proceeded on my way.

As I walked toward the front of the mall, Bull came into view… but no longer donning his trademark khakis and polo.  His eyes were madeup to resemble Mimi from the Drew Carey Show.  On his head, he wore a tropical headwrap…. on his chest, a matching belly shirt - the combination of the two makes me think of the Chiquita Banana girl.  Below the waist however, he modeled a white leather sequined thong and gold stilettos…. and he was prancing quite proudly, asking, “So what do you think of the new skivvies?”

Batman and the midget pilgrim were sitting against the front wall of the building.  Midget was silent, apparently just there for moral support and WTF factor.  Batman was sucking on an empty pair of black stockings.

For some unknown reason, this whole scenario seemed perfectly normal… like something that would happen to anyone, any day of the week.  So I walked back to the rear entrance of the mall, stripped off my clothes to reveal a bathing suit and went swimming since the entire mall was now filled with chlorinated water.

And that, kids, is why health food is BAD and should NEVER be consumed prior to napping.

Humor-blogs.com: We've got your weird.

The kids and I were chasing each other around the first floor earlier this evening - running from one room to the next until someone wised up enough to go the opposite direction and cut the runner off as they lapped the area - when I was viciously attacked.

No, I was not attacked by my children, but by something much smaller and more sinister.

You see, it was my turn to be chased and as I ran through the entry, I felt the stabbing pain of pierced foot flesh beneath me.  I fell to the floor and turned my left foot toward me.  There it was… small, evil, vile, sinister…. it was a butterfly-shaped mood ring… firmly attached to whatever bodily tissues live in the soles of my feet.

The ring was shaped much like my crude little drawing to the right, with giant, pointy wings on top and small, pointy wings on the bottom.  I was lucky enough to land on the upper, giant wing which cut right through the flesh and slid roughly half an inch into the ball of my foot and embedded itself quite firmly.

After forcibly removing my temporary, new appendage, I left a lovely trail of blood across my tan rug and up the stairs where the wound was cleaned and bandaged.  The hole is about as big around as a pencil and hurts like mad.  I could probably use stiches, to be quite honest, but that’s a medical bill I really don’t need if I can avoid it.

And just in case you were wondering, the evil little beast was dark purple, as in “Very Happy”.  The little bitch.

Accident prone?  Find like-minded individuals at humor-blogs.com!

I have been sick the last few days. Yesterday, my temperature peaked at 103(F). This morning, it was still at 102. The bottom line: I feel poopy.

But life must go on and since I was not spewing forth nastiness from any of my orifices, I went about my daily routine as usual.

• Feed kids: Check.

• Everyone dressed: Check.

• Kids on the bus: Check.

• Car keys: Check.

• Four fully-inflated tires: um… well…

I had a flat. Not just a low-on-air flat. A pancake-on-a-rim flat. In my driveway.

I started digging through the car. I pulled out the dummy tire. I pulled out the pathetic looking little jack from the secret Subaru jack compartment. I looked it over. I put it down. WTF!? I don’t know how to use it. I’ve never seen one like it.

I went inside and called the office. “Boys, I’m gonna be late. I don’t know how late. Just late. Really, really late.”

“What’s wrong?” asked Bull, our resident tech.

“I’m stuck in a catch 22 at the moment. I have a flat tire and a jack I don’t know how to use. I can’t afford to pay someone to change my tire until I get my paycheck and I can’t get my paycheck until I get the tire changed so I can get to the office.”

“No problem,” my savior replied. “I have an appointment out your way in half an hour, I’ll swing by and change that tire for you when I’m done.”

“You, sir, are my freakin’ hero!” I replied.

I wandered around the house, straightening and tidying for about an hour, but there was no sign of Bull. I called his cell… his appointment was taking longer than expected, he had no clue how soon he’d get to my place.

Time for Plan B. The Internet. (Now, I realize with every blog post I write, I prove myself more and more the dumb blond I try NOT to be, but if it didn’t end with me doing something completely bizarre or utterly stupid it wouldn’t make much of a story, now would it?) So, I hopped on the internet and looked up instructions on how to use my weird little car jack contraption.

I changed my tire. All by myself. I was so proud! And all while running a fever that could fry an egg.  Now, if I could just get the grease monkey marks off my hands…..

Humor-blogs.com: More tales of personal achievement from short bus riders.