The Tornado of Death

Nothing in this world strikes fear into the heart of men faster than the words Premenstrual Syndrome. You may ask how has this simple, yet painful condition that only afflicts the female species can make grown men run to the nearest testosterone crazed bar, cry in their sleep or even consider a life of homosexuality. One word my dear friends-insanity. That is correct. This seemingly harmless yet well known mental condition makes normal, level headed woman go insane.

For example-yesterday, I was minding my own business, playing on Facebook on my laptop when the Tornado of Death claimed it’s first victim of the month. My husband, bless his heart, had just finished a pudding cup and asked me to toss the empty container into the trash can to the left of my chair. A seemingly harmless request you might say but because of the positioning and height of the chair verses the trash can, I had to do a small yoga move to make sure that it was deposited safely into the liner. As I sat back up and prepared to resume my quest to hunt and destroy all the unworthy vampires bold enough to stalk the pages of Facebook (Vampire Wars-check it out….and no I am not a nerd. Well not a complete nerd.), he reaches over to hand me the plastic lid thingy to dispose of as well. You see, instead of handing them to me together so I would not have to stand on my head again, he “forgot” that it was laying there waiting to be disposed of. “Forgot”? Yeah, I believe that like I believe the world is round. It is times like this that I do not understand the male mind.

Let us look into the sane reaction. Had I not been blindsided by the red glare that overtook my brain, I might have taken the lid and tossed it doing another simple, but impressive, yoga move. Perhaps I would even made a joke about him getting old and forgetting things. That would have been the rational thing to do. But alas, PMS strikes again (AKA Tornado of Death)!

I glared at him with a gaze that would turn water into blood, make fire rein down from the heavens and generally bring about the destruction of the world as we know it. Blood began pouring from the walls and someone ran through screaming “I need an old priest and a young priest!”. Then the weird stuff started happening. My head spun around and pea soup sprayed from my mouth. Why pea soup? I don’t even eat pea soup. But I digress. Back to the topic at hand.

After a few minutes of being sprayed with Holy Water, I began to calm down and realize that maybe, and this is just a possibility, I overreacted. Just a little. But honestly, I can not be held accountable for the destruction that the Tornado of Death leaves in its wake. Let this stand as a warning to all men, when the demon has unleashed itself it is better to throw your own damn pudding cups away. Tune in next week to see if my husband survived Hell week. I can promise nothing.

 

A pleasant afternoon drive

Picture this: It’s a beautiful, warm day. You have your windows down in your car; hair blowing in the wind. You have the radio up, screaming along with your favorite song by Duran Duran (Don’t roll your eyes! They were a great band!). Then, all of a sudden, out of no where….”BRAKE LIGHTS! SHIT!”.   After you have managed to stop (I hope) and swallowed your heart back into your chest, you sit there saying to yourself, “This had better be good”.

Five hours later, you have managed to move a half of a mile and you see what it is that has traffic backed up to the edge of the known world: there is an abandoned car on the side of the road. I say on the side of the road but perhaps I should rephrase.

Okay here it goes. There is a car that is so far OFF the road that you would have had to literally drive over the shoulder and all those bumpy things (which no one in their right mind can drive over and stay sane), go through the near by Wal Mart parking lot, keep going a mile or so and still have to take two separate bus routes to actually hit.

For God sakes! Keep it moving people! I realize that there are people out there that are so lonely that the only time that they get to be around other people is when they are stopped bumper to bumper, watching the person in the next car pick his/her nose. However, I do not feel bad for these people! Please call someone. There are other people out there that are as lonely as you and if you found them, then you can stop holding up my damn route home and start collecting stamps, begin a support group for adults that still wet the bed or just simply conclude being a boil on the anal entrance of every driver who is unlucky enough to get stuck behind your no driving, ignorant ass!

Oh and I wish for world peace, too!

 

A caterpillar dressed?

Benjamin Franklin said, “What is a caterpillar dressed? A butterfly”.  The only difference in a  caterpillar and a butterfly are the beautiful wings.  I think that we all are kinda like butterflies.  We start out as these ugly, little, wrinkly creatures (and don’t say that we don’t cause I have never seen a new born baby that is pretty) and we can grow into these gorgeous creatures that that can influence and affect the world around us.  Granted some people grow into something more resembling a dung beetle rather than a butterfly, but in that lies our potential.  We can grow into the butterfly, soar among the clouds and show our beauty to the world around us or we can stay on the ground, rolling around our bullshit and complaining that we can not fly.