Thursday, May 17, 2012

Talk Around the Kitchen Table


Just about every night after work, my hubby and I sit down at the kitchen table and discuss the day’s events or whatever is on our minds.  It’s pretty much S.S.D.D. (same shit, different day) type stuff.  We leave the tv on during the day while we’re gone for the dog.  Ya know, so she can watch her “stories”. 
But yesterday, well, the conversation got pretty good for a change, all thanks to the Dr. Oz Show!
Here’s the play by play:
So we’re chatting away and in the background I hear the lady on the show mention she pees every time she has an orgasm. 
Me: (totally interrupting him mid sentence) Did you hear what she just said? She pees when she orgasms. 
Hubby: HUH?  What are talking about?
Me: The lady on with Dr. Oz!  She just said that!
Hubby: Oh, I’ve heard of people that have a certain muscle or something that doesn’t work to block the pee when ejaculating.  I’m pretty sure it’s not uncommon. 
Me:  So maybe that’s how all those stories of “golden showers” started.  Hmm, interesting. 
Hubby: What the hell is a golden shower??
Me: You’ve never heard of that?  It’s where one person pees on another for sexual pleasure.  Sometimes they get off from drinking it, too.  Like, getting peed on in the mouth kinda’ thing. There’s even a scientific term for it, but I pretty sure I can’t pronounce it. 
Hubby: What? What the hell?  What the hell is wrong with people?  Damn, really?  Get off while someone’s pissing on me…I don’t THINK so. Why do they call it a golden shower anyway?  Do you have to do it in the shower?
Me: Because pee is generally yellow-ish.  No, I don’t think it has to be done in only a shower, but I’m guessing the bathroom would be a more appropriate place since there’s a “clean up factor” involved.  Some people even think drinking pee is healthy.  I mean, look at the stories ya see of guys lost as sea and had to drink their own pee to stay alive.
Hubby: What?  Peeing in the mouth?  Com’on! 
Me: Seriously.  If ya don’t believe me, just google it.  You know if it’s on the internet, it MUST be true.
Hubby: Well, I guess it’s better than a brown shower.  Can you imagine me coming home and saying, “hey honey, just as soon as I work up a shit, let’s hit the bedroom and have some fun”. 
Me: Um…that would be a NO for me. Definitely a line crosser.  But it DOES make me wonder if these people put a lot of pressure on themselves to try and shit together like people that try to orgasm together? And do they purposely drink a ton of water like an hour before sex to make sure they have enough pee?  Wow, this sounds a lot harder than I first thought. 
Hubby: Well, you could save it.  Ya know, maybe take a dump or a pee and then put it in the freezer for a rainy day! 
Me:  It would have to the very last rainy day… EVER.  Why are we watching Dr. Oz, anyway?  

Tuesday, May 15, 2012

Traffic Jam


You would think there’s not much of a traffic problem around these rural parts. Right? Yeah, me, too.  As a matter of fact, that was one of those things I chalked up as a “pro” on my pro vs. con list before deciding to move back to small town, USA.  Heck, there are plenty of roads around here that still need to be paved!  So, my thought was “oh, good, no more idiots causing me serious road rage.”  Yeah, right. 
So on my 13 mile drive home from a hellish day at work (13 miles actually only takes 15 minutes here unlike city driving where 13 miles can mean a full hour drive…in good traffic).  I come up on a combine (aka tractor) that’s parked in the middle of road.  From the looks of the scenario a local farmer must have just bought it and was taking it around to show it off to some of the other farmers (yes, I slowed down to gawk).  Unfortunately the oncoming traffic made it impossible to go around so I waited….and waited…and waited. 
Finally, the coast is clear, so I go around.  A semi then proceeds to pull out in front of me as I’m carefully avoiding the big corn thingy from hitting my windshield. So once again, I make the pass around attempt. Nope. Oncoming traffic again.  I’m getting a little pissy by this point. 
Here’s how it played out:
Me: God damnit!! These fucking farmers think they own the damn roads!!  Ah, great, now I smell manure again (there’s always areas around here that smell like shit from the pig and chicken farms, so it’s an everyday occurrence)
Little did I know this slow moving semi was transporting liquid manure….and was LEAKING. 
Me: What is that leaking out on the road?  Is that oil? 
As I get closer the semi hits a bump and a big splash of brown liquid-y chunks comes flying out and covers my windshield.
Me: Oh my God, that’s shit!!!! 
Then the smell hit…..can we say overwhelming!? It’s like being in the men’s john of a biker bar… at 4am…with 100 degree temps….times 10!
Me: Oh no, I think I’m gonna puke
I gag….cough…dry heave a little. 
Me: Uh oh, I puked a little in my mouth.  Hurry up and swallow!
Holy shit, I might pass out….the smell is SO strong…fading. Ok, Melissa, keep your eyes open. The nearest car wash is 2 miles away….you can make it.  Roll the windows down.  No, put the windows back up..hurry! Turn the air on!  No, close the vents..hurry!  Oh my God, I can’t get away from this smell!!! Try not to think about it, turn the radio up or whatever it takes…you can make it. 
After what seemed like hours (but in reality was maybe 5 minutes), I made it to the car wash.
Shit, I don’t have any quarters. 
I rummage around in the bottomless pit of my purse and manage to find a one dollar bill and a few dimes and pennies.
Now where’s that damn change machine?
I see a machine near the middle of the building but there’s a big piece of paper attached to it.  The hand writing is not exactly legible but I finally can make out “OUT OF ORDOR” (almost got the spelling right on that one!).  
Ok. I’m either going to have to laugh hysterically right now or I’ll start crying.  This stinks….literally. 
Then a knight in shining armor pulls in.  I’m saved!!  Ok, so he was in a 1988 Ford Escort, but at the time it looked more like a big stallion, I swear! 
Oooo, maybe he’ll have some change on him.  Oh please, pretty please…
I walked up to him and when I spoke he jumped as though the devil himself had just appeared (or maybe I looked like the devil by this time).
Me: Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t’ mean to startle you. I don’t suppose you happen to have quarters for the car wash?  The change machine is broken.
Knight in Shining Armor: Ummmmm…what’s that yer needin’? 
Me: Change, as in quarters…the machine is broken.
Knight in Shining Armor: Yer car’s lookin’ pretty clean to me!
Now, I know he wanted to just make small talk (‘cause that’s what we do in small towns), but I was already at my wit’s end. 
Me: Well, looks can be deceiving.  Although it’s nice that technology and science have paved the way for manure to disguise itself as brown dirty water, unfortunately the smell sorta still gives it away.
He looked at me like I was speaking Japanese.
Me: I got behind a leaking manure truck just a few miles back and got hosed! 
Knight in Shining Armor: Oooooo, you were out by Smith’s farm, eh?  Yep, they’re spreadin’ this week from what Rog’ tells me.  Getting’ atter a little late in the season, but those boys out there…….
I sorta’ stopped listening at this point. My knight was turning into a Chatty Cathy doll and I was still sick to my stomach.  Maybe I should just go home and start drinking…heavily.  I knew one thing for sure – I didn’t want to call my husband.  He would enjoy this whole scenario waaaaayyyy too much. 
So I smiled, nodded my head and politely pretended to listen to my knight in shining armor get chatty on me.   Lucky for me, being nice paid off.  My knight finally finished his stories, pulled six shiny quarters out of his pocket and handed them to me in exchange for a dollar bill, five dimes and some tobacco pieces from the bottom of my purse.    
I used the spray thingy (power washer, I think, is the actual term) like it was a machine gun; blasting the shit off my car as much as humanly possible. Once it looked as though all the brown chunks were gone, I headed home and started on that heavy drinkin’ idea that crossed my mind earlier.  Oh, and my husband did enjoy the story even more than I had imagined.  I think he laughed so hard he shot beer out of his nose.