All the Hyperbole

I love to talk in hyperbole.

I do it all day, every day, on every topic, ALL THE TIME.  Do I have 5 things to do today?  Probably, but I’m going to tell you I have 589297 things to do.  Am I tired?  Yes, but I will always be the most tired person you have ever met in your life and if I don’t sleep tonight I’m going to turn into a zombie and eat your brains.  A little angry?  Possibly, but I’m going to threaten bodily harm even if you just forgot to give me that paper clip I asked for 5 minutes ago.  You could have also murdered my rabbit.  Same level of anger.  Face punch.

At times, this will get me in trouble.  I’ll say something dramatic, and the person to whom I’m speaking will think I’m serious.  This is especially dangerous at work.  If your supervisor asks you if you have time to do a task, you should probably not say that you have negative hours in the day because of all the work you do, and just say, sure.  And then get to it when you can.  Or if you tell a coworker that you’re so stressed out that you want to set the building on fire, they may stay away from you the rest of the week.

Younger people are “like, 12” and older people are 157 years old.  The former was accurately portrayed in the below someecard.


All this talk is pretty much the exact opposite of my life.  There is no extreme in it, whatsoever.  I go to work daily, church weekly, and vacation on occasion.  I have a child that I drop off and pick up from school every day. The wildest thing I do in a month is going to bunco.  I imagine many of you live similar lives.  I’m also not as big of a jerk as I used to be.  Some of you can attest to that.  I used to be a huge mean sarcastic jerk, but the kind you wanted to have say things to people, because it was never directed at you.

Does the hyperbole make me feel alive?  Yes.  Am I using it incorrectly?  ALL THE TIME.  Do I care?  Nope.  OK, maybe I care when someone says they will LITERALLY DIE if something happens/doesn’t happen.  I don’t do that.  Well, not really.


PS, I just told a person about this blog, and she said I should put something about jumbo shrimp.  I facepalmed SO HARD.  Facedesk even.  Double facepalm.  ALL THE FACEPALM.

double facepalm


Jobs I’d Rather Have

How many of us can look at another human in the face and say “I love my job”?  I’d be willing to be that about 89.5% of us would not be able to.  Maybe I’m cynical.  I’m sure you will all tell me if I’m wrong.  Let’s take a poll.

As I sit here with my current job that is causing me to have ulcers and chest pain, I got to daydreaming about real jobs I’d rather have.  I’m not going to limit myself here…and I’m even going to make new jobs that probably do not exist.    I’d also like to hear from  you – tell me what you’d rather be doing.

Job #1:  Professional Blogger.  This job, in fact, does exist.  I want to be Jenny Lawson or Jen Hatmaker.  Wait, do I need to change my name to Jennifer?   I want to run around in a Jenny Lawson skin coat and be hilarious.  If Jenny Lawson is reading this, I’m just kidding about Buffalo Bob-ing you and HIIAMAHUGEFAN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  If Jen Hatmaker is reading this, I think you are too precious to steal your skin.

Job #2: Book Reader Person.  I do this job already for free.  I would love to get paid just to read books.  But only books I want to read.  You want me to read The Fault In Our Stars?  PASS.  But I did read Perks of Being a Wallflower, and I cried enough for both books.  I could also be a “pressure your favorite author to finish the next book in the series” person.  HINT GEORGE R R MARTIN.  HINT.

Job #3:  Social Media Spelling and Grammar Corrector.  This job does not exist.  How do I know?  Because we have a generation of children that type-speak in SHORTHAND.  How busy is your life that you can’t spell out the one missing vowel from SUPR?  I’d also be on there/their/they’re watch.  And too/to/two.  I have to stop before my head explodes.

Job #4:  Fake Review Writer.  This job also exists, shamefully, however, I think I can get behind this.  I am excellent at hyperbole and imagery.  Any establishment would love to have me, good or bad.  Want me to trash your competitor?  OK!  Want me to tell everyone that despite health department reports, you do NOT have slime in the ice machine?  LET’S DO IT.

And finally, Job #5: Amateur Pinterest Pin Recreator.  I spend an obscene amount of time on Pinterest, especially in the humor section.  I do, however, love looking at food and crafts, and wondering if I could do that.  I would create a whole new section of Pinterest called:  Things that are impossible to make or Lower your expectations.  People would be forced to pin things that are  attainable by the average folk, and stop pinning all these gourmet-level recipes or expert crafts.  A filter, if you will.

So folks, here’s your chance.  Dream big.  Tell me what you’d want to do, even if it’s one of my top 5!

When in doubt, blurt it out

Yesterday, a series of unfortunate events occurred. Some routine things, like my child had one of those days where she actually did not want to go to school (and right now, school is loosely defined as half-day recess, half-day run amok-a-thon) and I felt fat so I dressed like I am actually fat, and didn’t fix my hair.

But then, I had to take my dad to the ER for a stubborn kidney stone that “is actually really tiny, only about 3mm,” says the ER nurse. I’m pretty sure he didn’t think that it was that tiny. She also kept referring to it as his “baby,” which was funny and disconcerting at the same time. We were discharged with narcotics and a strainer. Now that’s a party.

After that, a thing at work happened, and it is now referred to “the incident that shall not be named” as well as with “he who should not be named.” I’m easily entertained/amused/distracted by Harry Potter references, so if you ever need to cheer me up or start a conversation, or make me love you forever, here’s your sign.

I know it’s been a lot of months since I blogged last. Like, we were wearing sweaters, pants, and all the clothes in our closets back then. And hats. Oh how I love hats.

Let’s recap life since then. My brother and sister-in-law bought their very first home, some people graduated from some schools, Laney graduated from her first year of Kindergarten, my cousin Jack got married AND bought his first house with his wife, Jamie…oh and Jamie went on the Carnival cruise. You know, THAT Carnival cruise.

Last time, I also promised you VIEWER MAIL!   Well, here’s a selection of the many gems I received.  I will always respond to viewer mail at

How can I get my husband to take the trash out? I mean I’ve tried letting it sit there full and then he just puts it in the sink. I’ve tried nagging him. Everything! Please help
Dear Trashy Housewife of the Interweb,
Just a few suggestions: 1. a bigger trash can, 2. trained monkey to take out the trash, 3. slap him, because clearly he is having a visual or processing issue, 4. move to a trash-free life where none of your activities create trash. I hope this helps.
Superbloggyblog’s blogger

My 4 year old and a 3 year old like to pee at the same time, in the same toilet! If we are with friends, they invite their friends to join them. Any ideas to get them to stop?
Dear Pee Partier,
If you can’t beat ’em, join ’em?
Superbloggyblog’s blogger

How do I deal with a supervisor that I suspect has a toe fetish? He tells us all not to wear flip flops in the summer.
Dear Flipless in Summer,
Cover them piggies, because unless you want to go down Fatal Attraction style (I hear all toe fetish people are also violent murderers), I’d stay out of harm’s way.  
Super bloggyblog’s blogger  (PS, just kidding about the toe fetish murderer thing, but if it happens, then no I was not kidding.)

I know this blog was short, but I really needed a quick, creative, cathartic-style release.  Next time, maybe there will be an “interesting passive-aggresive signs posted on the refrigerator at work” blog.  =D

Fart Trains and Mannequins

I have an interesting commute.  I try my best to stay off of freeways, so I take this lovely half two-lane half normal looking road along a rail route called Mykawa.  It has LOVELY scenery.  Most of the time I find interesting road kill: cows, horses, dogs, cats, raccoons, possum, deer, rabbits, and more.  One time, I was waiting at a light, and a coyote stops at the crosswalk, looks both ways, and crosses the street into the pasture filled with cows.  He/she definitely did not watch any Wile E Coyote/Roadrunner episodes.  I’m pretty sure this also caused one of the cows to die.

Other times, I see things that are WAY more interesting than that.

I’m driving, and to my left is a (handwritten) sign that says “OFFICE FURNITURE FOR SALE” in front of a house on the corner.  OK, I can get on board with that – maybe they came upon a storage unit or something.  I see what looks like a large crowd standing under the carport in the driveway.  Nope, it’s not a crowd.

Not a crowd. A party!

There has to be twenty mannequins hanging out under this carport.  Headless, posing mannequins.  Oh, and there’s office furniture – a bevy of desks, bookshelves, tables and chairs.  I’m so proud to have found this, I think…no way can anything top it.  NO WAY.

The next day.  YES – THE NEXT DAY – I come across what I consider to be my most maginficient find yet.  Ladies and gentlemen, and dogs and probably no cats (because I hate all of you), please let me me introduce the fart train:

Fart Train 4-Life

Mykawa has multiple rails that run parallel to the road, and I am not joking when I say I look for the fart train EVERYDAY.  I also look for other inspiring graffiti art that compares to the majesty of this car’s decor, but to date, I have not seen anything that comes close.  I’d like to think that one day, I’ll be driving along, looking wistfully at the parked railcars, and someone will ask, “Christy, what are you looking for?”  To this I will reply, “oh nothing, just the fart train.”  And that will be the best conversation I’ve ever had.

I see things before I even get out of Pearland too.  There is the tow truck with bad grammar:

You’re means YOU ARE. Y-O-U-R MEANS YOUR

Now, someone consciously went to a place and asked for this to be put on their business vehicle for one reason or another and that place said “OK yeah, this is what you want, right?” and that person said, “yes absolutely. YOUR late.”  I think a small part of my brain just died. DIED.

And the guy driving a Dolorian that decided that it would be a good idea to sit at a light and pick his nose so hard it appears he might be going for his brain:

Digging for 1.21 gigawatts?

So, this guy seems to think that either a) he’s not conspicuous driving a DOLORIAN so it’s cool to pick his nose at the light or b) he just doesn’t care.  I don’t know which is worse, a lack of self-awareness in  DOLORIAN (come ON!) or the lack of caring whether or not someone sees you digging for gold. 

And then once I get to work, I see the sweetest pair of Manpris I’ve ever seen outside of Disney World or Bush Intercontinental Airport:

To be fair, it had just rained.

These are so short, they cannot be mistaken for pants that are too short, and they are tailored in such a way that they cannot be mistaken for “really long shorts.”  The bottoms even flare ever so slightly, and it leads me to believe that these may even be women’s capris.  Like, he was getting dressed, and picked up the wrong pants because he fell asleep in his mom’s room. 

I really would love to fill a category with “STUPID CRAP I’VE SEEN ON MY COMMUTE.”  I have a feeling that now that I’m on the lookout, I’ll never see anything ever again.  I should probably stop looking. 

It’s been a minute since my last blog.  I’m happy to report that my grandfather (mom’s dad) is doing really well.  He’s home, doing things on his own, and more or less trying to get back to his old lifestyle of not having bacterial meningitis.  I still need friends to keep my other grandfather (dad’s dad) in your thoughts/prayers/meditations.  I hope this also ends my blog consitpation, because I’d really love to pick this crap back up again.  I look forward to your comments, and don’t forget to share the link!  I’d do it for you!  hahaha