Gotta love that Sir-Mix-A-Lot! 

Anywhooooo….How the hell have yall been?  I’ve been great. 

Minus this…

Yeah…that’s Dan’s former beloved truck. 

It’s a goner.  I was in the passenger side. 

We are both okay…  The bruises are gone physically, but I have a feeling that they will be sticking around mentally for awhile. 

Don’t ever get in a car accident.  Scariest thing that has EVER happened to me. 

Besides that I’m having a great time with my new man.  It feels so good to just have someone to be myself around again.  I was a lost mess there for a while, but all has returned to the center and is found.  I know-sounds silly.  But he’s seriously the best thing that has happened to me.  And it all came at the perfect time.  You find what you’re looking for when you’re not looking for it.  All of those cliches are absolutely 100% correct when you find the right person.  And I mean “love at first sight” and all that crap.  It’s amazingly awesome! 

Hows about some Vanilla Ice? 

Sure!  Love him!

Please play that video and watch it.  Nothing beats that video.  His dancing is da’ bomb! 

I’m having an early 90′s flashback lately.  Sorry.  Enjoy. 

HECK!  While we’re at it!

DANG IT!  Love that stuff.  Wish I was wearing some of those Hammer pants right now! 

Hope yall have a great holiday season.  Unfortunately I work with taxes so I’m busting hump to get ready for tax season.  Which means I have to work all day for the next two Saturdays!  NOT cool!  Why can’t I have an 8-5 job that I absolutely love???  Someday!

Peace and love yall!

Anyway, Dan took his dirt bike and had a great time.  I don’t know much about it other than that it’s a 1996 Honda and it’s a 250cc.  A 250cc is a pretty big bike-I think it’s the biggest dirt bike engine you can get (correct me if I’m wrong, because I in fact know very little about bikes).  Dan returned home on Sunday and posed the question which I had been dieing to hear:  “Babe, do you want to go ride?” 

OF COURSE I DO! 

I have a bad habit of needing to try anything and everything…especially this “guy” stuff (hunting, shooting, driving big trucks, etc.).  I know that I’m still a women and that women will never be able to do everything that a real man can do-but dang it I’m going to try cuz it looks like fun!  This isn’t a new development in the world of Julie-I’ve always been like this.  I will try anything at least once, and get really frustrated if I can’t do it, and try and try and try again until I can or I injure myself to the point where I can’t possibly try again.  I guess I’m hard headed like that.

I wasn’t scared about riding the dirt bike.  Dan made it look so easy, it couldn’t be that hard.  I’ve seen plenty of girls ride dirt bikes and not die.  I knew I could do it.  Dan gave me a brief tutorial which consisted mainly of teaching me about the gears.  For some reason I have brain block when it comes to shifting things-he also tried to teach me how to drive a stick a while back and it didn’t go so well.  There’s just something about having to press something with your foot and hand simultaneously that makes my brain turn off.  I decided that I just wanted to cruise around in first gear.  No shifting to second this time around.  Successfully shifting to second would be far too difficult for me and I didn’t want to try to do it all at once.  So I got on the bike, kick started it, gave it some gas, pulled in the clutch, shifted from Neutral to First and was ready to go.  Just like with a stick shift vehicle-you have to slowly let out the clutch while at the same time giving it a bit of gas.  I do believe that I stalled the bike out about 10 times before my first successfull take off. 

But I did it!  I took off (and I use the term “took-off” very loosely as I was cruising in 1st gear at a snail like pace).  I went around the pasture a couple times then decided to stop to reconvene with Dan and act all snobby about it-like it was no big deal that I had just ridden a huge dirt bike without killing myself.-like I had been riding my whole life-like I wasn’t scared that I was going to flip over the handle bars and get my precious face ran over by the bike.  He was semi-impressed I think and I decided to give it another go.  I was confident about starting the bike, steering and controlling the bike, and stopping (sort of).  So I started it up again…and stalled out again and again and again.  But finally I “took off” again.  This time I was feeling much more confident.  Maybe I should give it a little gas?  Yeah-sounds like a good idea.  Dan will be really impressed then.  Did I mention that I’m still only in first gear? 

So I pulled the throttle and before I knew it my front tire was in the air and I was headed directly for a fence.  I saw my life flash before my eyes (not much to be seen), realized that I may possibly die, thought about Dan and wished I could see the look of terror on his face as I was doing a wheelie and heading towards a fence, and finally I let the throttle down.  Just as the front tire hit the ground and I managed to slow down a bit-I hit the fence.  I heard bones crushing-saw blood in my eyes-felt three teeth fly out of my mouth-and felt the bike run over my precious face. 

Ok…totally kidding.

But I did run into the fence.  Luckily I was going slow (I honestly felt like I was going 80 mph) and the fence had lots of brush on it so it was pretty cushy.  The bike stalled out and I turned around to see Dan rushing up on the 4-wheeler.  I hopped off the bike and said “Shit!” about ten times.  I was mad at myself for not being able to react to the bike the way I should have.  All I had to do was release the throttle, squeeze the clutch and hit the brake.  Apparently my brain can’t think about doing three things at once when said brain thinks it may soon cease to exist.  Dan said in his deep, calm voice, “Baby-I don’t think it’s anything worth swearing about.” 

Oh jeez…way to drop me from a building back to reality.  He does that to me sometimes when I get all worked up about things that don’t really matter.    And he was totally right.  It wasn’t worth swearing about.  I didn’t die.  Didn’t even get a scratch.  Didn’t harm the fence or the bike; which was of course my main concern.  And didn’t get my precious face run over.  All was good and well with me and the world. 

I took a few deep breaths, collected my thoughts, thought about the bike and what I did or didn’t do to cause my little accident, and started it back up. 

By the end of the afternoon-I was doing pretty well.  Feeling more confident on the bike-without being cocky, and having more fun.  I even shifted to second to get some more speed (a huge milestone for someone who’s brain refuses to comprehend the idea of shifting/clutching).  And didn’t do another wheelie again that afternoon.  Success! 

Here’s a pic of me on Dan’s bike.  Don’t I look like I kinda-sorta know what I’m doing?   

And here’s a picture of Dan on the bike.  Ladies be warned…. 

<3

Hope yall have a great day!  And do something dangerous! 

PLSF

Then you’ve come to the right place.  I was meandering through the strange “Seen it on TV” section at my local Walgreen’s and spotted about a million items that I was halfway tempted to blow my cash on.  And then I came to and realized that 99.99999% of these products would be used once and then get stashed under my bed until I moved to my next place.  Then I’d pull out said item and get all excited about it because I do in fact remember ‘seeing it on TV,’ use said item one more time, realize it was shit and attempt to pawn it off on an innocent suspect or throw it away. 

It’s a process I’ve obviously been through before…

You’ve all heard of the Snuggie right?  It’s a glorified blanket.  Their catch is that it has arm holes to keep your hands free.  Because we all know how restricting those damn Afghans can be.  I can never get to the remote or take a drink of water under those things.  You can purchase the Adult Snuggie and a Kid’s Snuggie. 

And now……you can purchase the Dog Snuggie. 

Yes…a snuggie for your dogs.  Pretty dang ridiculous huh? 

wow...

Now…me being the extreme pet lover that I am-I actually thought the pictures on the box were freakin’ adorable.  But…I would never waste my money on it. 

I also particularly love how the box says, “Keeps your paws free!”  As if the dogs are the ones making this purchase.  And all dogs know how restricting regular blankets can be.  So stupid…although Hurley would look adorable in one. 

PLSF

But as stated previously…I’ve got a boyfriend who does exactly that.  Drinks beers and shoot deers.  He is of course, much more complex than that.  But-the guy is crazy about hunting.  And if we’re going to make this relationship work-I need to get crazy about it too. 

I’m 24 years old…grew up in the country on a dairy farm…amongst a family of hunters…but had never shot a gun until about a month ago!  I’m not against hunting or scared of guns or anything-I just never did it before.  Dan took me to a local shooting range and taught me the basics of rifle and pistol shooting.

One shot was all it took and I was hooked for life.  It was so much fun I could barely stand it.  I did okay for a first time shooter and now have the drive to improve my handling skills and accuracy at different distances.  A target at 50 yards is much easier to hit than a target at 200 yards.  With time and practice I think I will become a good shot.  I’m just wondering why I didn’t start shooting guns at a much earlier age!  I grew up on a farm…just think of all the little creatures that I could have taken down in my younger years.  And MOM…don’t be upset about my new found drive to hunt and kill animals.  You shoot birds from your kitchen window with a BB gun. 

Handling a gun is not anything to be taken lightly…it’s a serious (and very deadly) matter.  Luckily for me, Dan is a super serious sportsman and focuses on safety and respect for the weapons.  It’s super important for anyone new to firearms to pair up with someone who will focus more on safety than skill at first.  Gun safety needs to be drilled into the heads of anyone handling a gun.  I’ve got a thick skull, but I think it’s sinking in. 

I just wanted to share a few pics of me doing some shooting.  I’m hoping that soon enough I will have a video and some pics of me actually taking down a tasty animal.  But…I need to be sure I’m a good shot before I attempt that.  Or else I will probably just blow the ear off a couple innocent deer.  And that’s just not nice.   

Shooting a rifle… (Don’t ask me what the names of these guns are cuz I’ve got no clue)

That’s me shooting one of Dan’s pistols.  If you’ve never shot a pistol-do it.  It was so much fun!  But-way harder than it looks.  I’m not vain or anything, but I sometimes assume that I will be good at anything a guy is good at (shooting, sports, grilling meat, belching, changing oil, etc.).  It’s usually not the case-especially with shooting pistols. 

I’ve also shot a shotgun. 

Shooting a shotgun is also harder than it looks.  You don’t have a scope with crosshairs like you do on a rifle.  You have to kind of aim with the barrel.  But it’s fun to shoot for sure. 

My aim is bad…but my form is good.  Ya gotta start somewhere.   

Me shooting a 308 rifle.  It’s a super heavy gun.  I was aiming at a tree in that picture and I hit it-three times.  Poor tree. 

Anyway…I’m sure yall will be seeing a lot more of this kind of stuff.  I hope you’re not an advocate for gun control or a member of PETA (unless of course, it’s the People Eating Tasty Animals version).  If you are..then stick around for a while and see what you’re missing.   

PLSF

The last time I posted on here I was a single girl-just out to have some fun and enjoy life.  Now I’m a taken girl-just out to have some fun.    My new man’s name is Dan.  He’s an amazing 6′ 4″ country boy-hunter-drives a big truck-drinks beer-opens doors for women-looks great in a cowboy hat-great sense of humor-help anyone-kind of guy.  I could go on and on about this guy, but we’ll save that for a different post.    Here’s a picture of him for all of you curious folks out there. 

My Man Dan

Yes, that’s a gun on his back.  It’s a big gun.  Dan taught-is teaching me about shooting and hunting and all that stuff.  But again that’s a post for another time. 

Since I’ve started dating Dan, I’ve gotten to see a lot of the Texas country side.  Which is a good thing, since I was starting to get antsy being stuck in the concrete jungle that is the inner-city of Houston.  I’m a natural country girl-so this is good stuff for my soul.  We took a road trip to Dan’s deer lease.  Basically, a deer lease is a spot of land on a cattle ranch that is leased to hunt on. 

We stopped at a gas station on our way to the Deer Lease in the small town of Who Know’s Where The H We Are to purchase a few forgotten items.  I saw the following signs that we’re misspelled.  I’m not a spelling or grammar nazi by any means-I’m sure there are a million of them in the previous 2 paragraphs.  But…I know when something is absolutely and completely wrong.  And it makes me laugh.  A lot. 

This little gas station had a jewelry case.  Ya know, in case you forgot your CZ studs or tongue rings on the trip to the ranch. 

You can get your Ear Rings for the low-low price of $4.99!  Great!

Ear Rings, I’m assuming are similar to the more commonly known earrings…but then again-we were in redneck central. 

Maybe it was the beer…or the whiskey…or the rum…but I laughed out loud when I saw this!  I had to snap a picture on my phone.  I’m sure the attendant simply thought I was admiring the sparkly goods. 

Then I turned the carousel to see what other sparklies this place specialized in…

Of course!!!  Body Jew!  For the low-low price of $4.99. 

I’m assuming that after the hour long discussion to determine the proper spelling of earrings…they just decided to avoid the trouble and abbreviate the word jewelry.  It was a redneck abbreviation that may be offensive to those of the Jewish religion, but an abbreviation none the less. 

MMmmmm…..country life.  Gotta love it! 

PLSF 

As some of you may know, I’m from small-town; Northern Michigan and have moved to the BIIIIIIG city of Houston. For someone who was once a real-life, farm-hand…I think I’ve adjusted quite well. I’ve swapped my tennis shoes and Coor’s Light for high-heels and wine. (Speaking of shoes: I need to do a whole post about my fabulous heels that I own).

I found this at the grocery store the other day:

Good idea or stupid idea???

Pre-Toasted Toast

Yes folks, is toast.  In a bag.  Call me small-town, but I had no idea that this even existed.  Obviously it’s marketed towards the Hispanic since it’s made by Bimbo.  But really…it can’t be good.  Isn’t the whole point of toast the warmness created by the toaster to melt butter? 

What do you think?  Am I not seeing the point here?  I personally don’t own a toaster (shocker!) but that’s because I have an addiction to Peanut Butter toast and wanted to avoid the whole temptation all-together.  NOT because the simply task of toasting bread is too labor intensive for me. 

In the meantime, while you’re pondering, take a look-see/listen at the YEAH TOAST song that ws on the Bob n Tom morning show.  Someone was night enough to create a flash video to go along with it. 

When I’m in a shitty mood I just listen to that song and it makes my frown turn upside down! 

Love and Toast….

PLSF!

I was visiting home (aka: small town-Northern Michigan) a few weeks ago for a friends wedding.  I was lucky enough to have enough time to not only attend the wedding (have I mentioned that I LOVE weddings?) but I was able to spend some QT with some family members. 

My Auntie Joyce was nice enough to take me and my cousins to get some pizza at the world’s best pizza place (G’s Pizzeria) in the downtown area of my hometown.  It’s not really “downtown” but we refer to it as “town,” so I don’t know what else to call it so that all you big-city folks know what I’m talking about.

After our delicious pizza we took a short drive through town (because that’s just what small town folk do).  My Auntie who was riding shot-gun, pointed out a beautiful window display in one of the gift shops.  This place has a knack for creating beautiful, artsy, whimsical window displays that showcase various products that they sell and highlight City events that may be happening in the downtown area.  They are always gorgeous and very “big-city” like.   

This particular display was no exception.  It held a decorative sign that announced the upcoming “All-Class High School” reunion that is being hosted by the City.  I’m not too sure on all the details, but from what I heard-our City will be hosting a reunion for all the former students of our high school.  That’s a novel idea I suppose.   

Take a look at the sign that caught my Aunties eye:

OHHS All Class Reunion

If that sign doesn’t say something special about our distinguished, scholarly, Ogemaw Heights graduates…

I don’t know what does. 

Peace & Love-PLSF

Bottles of urine on the rooves and potatoes in the halls. FML!

Loner

I don’t make this stuff up.

PLSF

“Let’s Play….What’s on the Roof?”

But after closer inspection I decided a title with the word urine in it would have a much more exciting effect.  Although I may have to pull out the game-show-esque title out in the future. 

Let me explain. 

The apartment complex where I live has some pros and cons.  One of the pros happens to be parking.  There is a TON of parking, most of which is covered.  Covered parking is a great thing, especially when you live in a hot state like Texas.  Covered parking can mean the difference between third degree burns on your palms or just profuse sweating upon entering the vehicle.

There's my Vibe!

I took that picture from my balcony.  I look directly out to the covered parking.  This is a good thing as I feel that I can keep an eye on my car.  Because I like to pretend that if I saw someone stealing it, I would be able to deter them from the safety of my balcony.  Yeah, right.

Anyway…the corrugated metal roof of the covered parking is a sort of storage area for various items such as leaves, sticks, pine needles, etc.  And by etc., I mean-various non-natural items like beer bottles, beer cans, and other random trash. 

I’ve never personally seen anyone throwing trash onto the covered parking roof, but it obviously happens. 

We got the beer bottles…

Recycling is fun!

I do believe that’s a Bud Light and a Corona…a big one (40 ounce?). 

Then there’s random things…

What the!??

You can see the myriad of items in this picture.  In the forefront you will see another huge beer bottle-still wrapped in the paper bag the bum left the party store with.

You will also see another-half filled-Corona bottle, a roll of clear packing tape, a sparkly red item, and a string of metal wire cable stuff.

Who does this stuff?

Then we get to the next roof item…

The bottle of urine.

Thirsty?

Now you may be thinking that this is a bottle of something other than urine.  But believe me…it’s urine…pee..piss..whatever you want to call it.  I thought at first that it could be apple juice.  Apple juice is almost this same exact color.  But after further inspection, thanks to the zoom on my camera…I’ve determined it to be a bottle of urine.  Apple juice doesn’t come in bottles shaped like that and you can clearly see the blue label half-way ripped off.  I think its a Nestle brand bottle actually. 

Unfortunately I have to look at this bottle of urine on a daily basis.  It’s just sitting there, staring me in the face-taunting me.  I can’t and don’t want to attempt to remove it from the roof.  So until the apartment complex gets around to cleaning off the roofs (which may never happen), I will have to look at the urine every day. 

After a close examination of the urine bottle, I realize that the half-full Corona bottle show in the previous picture contains a liquid that is the same exact shade of pee-yellow. 

Who is living in my part of the apartment complex that feels the need to not only pee in a bottle (that can be justified in the right scenario) but to continue to throw the bottle onto the roof of the covered parking? 

I’m hoping that they don’t make a habit of it.  I don’t know how many more urine filled bottles I can take. 

And if the bottle filler happens to be reading my blog please take a recommendation.  Drink more water and less Corona.  Your urine seems to be very dark yellow which can be an indication of dehydration.  The lighter your urine color-the more hydrated you are. 

You may be disgusting and repulsive, but I’d hate to see you living your life in a constant state of dehydration. 

Drink up bottle filler…drink up. 

*Readers:  if this little issue continues to occur, we will definately be having a “What’s on my roof?” contest!  I know you’re excited.  Can it get more exciting than urine filled bottles?  Possibly.

PLSF

I do believe that you’ve seen a post or two about his many bouts of destruction. There’s the Soccer Ball Incident

and the…

Little Lamby Murder to name a few.

Those are seriously the least of my worries compared to some of the things he’s been destroying lately. He has destroyed 3 DVD’s; one of which was the movie Marley & Me. You know, the one about the world’s worst dog.

Irony is a bitch.

More recently he decided to remove a strap from a bra that I had hanging from my closet door. You seriously have no idea how many times I’ve walked into my apartment only to find a shredded mess that could only be identified by color and texture.

Now let’s get to possibly his worst bout of destruction…ever.

I recently renewed my lease for my apartment. I signed a 12 month lease. Most apartments will shampoo your carpeting on a yearly basis or when you renew your lease. I was excited about this as I tend to be a clean freak (I know…surprising). Plus you never know what your previous renter had done on the carpeting of my apartment.

The carpet cleaning was scheduled for sometime on May 21st. May 21st fell on a Thursday. That meant that I would be at work and unable to supervise the carpet cleaning crew. No biggie. But I was supposed to lock up my dog. That’s pretty much standard protocol when it comes to apartment stuff. Lock up your vicious animals so they don’t eat Jose the carpet shampooer. Really, his name is Jose.

I had completely forgotten about locking Hurley up until after I had already gotten to work. I called the leasing office and talked to Nancy. She’s a pretty nice lady and was kind enough to come put Hurley in the bathroom before the carpet guys got to my apartment.

Now if I would have been thinking clearly, I would have had her put him in his crate instead of the bathroom. There are far too many things that could be destroyed in the bathroom. His crate would have kept him from his destruction.

When I walked into my apartment after work I was excited to see that my carpet was freshly cleaned. Hooray!

Then came the shocker…

Hurley, who was barking up a storm, thoroughly pissed off that he was locked in the bathroom, had done damage that I didn’t even know was possible.

FML!

What is the white crap all over the floor you may ask..??

After closer inspection I realized that it was paint. Paint chips, probably full of lead. And pieces of toilet paper. A whole roll to be exact.

I was speechless. I just stood there frozen. Of course Hurley darted out the door like a bat out hell and was hiding under the coffee table. He always hides when he’s destroyed something. Probably because he knows I will beat him with the remainder of the object in question.

Ok…so there are paint chips littering my bathroom floor. Let’s find out where they came from, shall we?

Are you kidding me!?

That is the back of my bathroom door. The little punk had scratched the paint off from the bottom to the middle of the door. There is no way that this could have been an easy task as it seemed like there were at least 7 layers of thick, latex paint on the door.

I have no idea what I’m going to tell the apartment complex when I finally ship out. “Umm…the paint was peeling…really badly.”

I suppose that Hurley’s destructive habits are partially my fault as he is left home alone a lot and probably doesn’t get enough exercise which is the worst thing for an energetic dog. But still….

Nancy from the apartment complex was even nice enough to put one of his raw hide bones in the bathroom with him. To…ya know…keep him occupied.

The bone was the only untouched item in the entire space. Spiteful jerk!

Jerk!

If you look to the right of the picture you can see that the little plastic thingy that holds the toilet paper roll is gone. Destroyed.

I cleaned up the mess and held my composure. There wasn’t really any use in getting upset.

And besides…if anyone is looking for a quick and easy paint removal service I may be able to make a few extra bucks.

Did I Do That??

PLSF