23 April 2013

Post #81

I must start this tale with a confession.  My sister owns Dr. Scholl's clogs.  I begged her to reconsider, but no...she had to have them.  Last night she was out on our patio enjoying a lovely e-book wearing said clogs, when terror struck. I was inside when I heard what can only be described as a bluegrass, folk dance solo.  Turns out my sister was being attacked by a flying cockroach.  Got to love Arizona wildlife!

Go Megan go!!!

She ran inside (putting me in harms way, fucked up) and screamed "Raid!!!".  I promptly ran behind the couch like a little bitch and then slammed the door behind her.  The concert lasted another two minutes.  She got the fucker.

La Cucaracha, la Cucaracha, ya no puede caminar!!! 

Raid is sometimes not sufficient.  I instructed her to also douse it in Boric Acid, one can never be too certain that these shits are dead.  I also think it's an effective scare tactic for the other flying bugs of Satan...this could be you.  I mean they can survive a nuclear blast for fuck's sake.

Ten minutes later she was attacked by another, and I was privy to an encore performance. Thank you Dr. Scholl's, you made my night.

Exterminator on speed dial,

Katie E. Eshelman

19 April 2013

Post #80

I lost the remote for my bedroom TV the other night due to a nightmare I really would like to forget, chucked it in my frantic quest to wake-up.  I figured,  fuck it...I'll just browse on my iPad instead of getting out of bed, turning on the television...fuck, I am exhausted just thinking about it.  Plus, I procrastinate like a motherfucker.  Why do today, what you can do tomorrow?  Last night rolls around and I have a bit of booze in me and suddenly I must have it...like that late night Filly B's carne asada burrito.

The quest began.  I scoped out the entire room.  Looked for dents in the walls and such where it might have crashed and landed, no such luck.  It took me seconds to realize that I had done it, I had somehow manged to curve ball the remote underneath my goddamn bed.  The rest goes something like this...

Maneuver A: "Under the dust ruffle shuffle."

Doesn't work.  So, I actually went full belly to the ground and peeked around.  Fucks.  It's against the wall directly below the center of my headboard.  There's no way in hell I am going to reach it by hand without getting stuck under my bed.  Time to get crafty.

Maneuver C: Savers back scratcher, $1.99.

My next thought was, why in the flying fuck do I have a used, thrift store, back scratcher?  Nasty.  Then I saw the date purchased.  Looks like it might have been a late birthday present for my sister which she obviously, promptly returned to me.  Oh well, it worked.  Remote procured.  Wiggled my way to almost crawling, and that's when my "fuck it" ring get's caught on the berber carpet.

Before the destruction.

The damn ring unraveled like a cheap sweater.  Not the "it" (nope that's just fine) it was the "fuck" ring.  I somehow managed to free my hand and left it stuck in the carpet.  Then, I decided to drown my sorrows in the Food Channel for the next hour.  While also trying desperately to figure out a way to have a half-way normal conversation with my jeweler about how I need him to rework my ring to say the f-bomb again.  Classy.  I fell asleep as that was a job for today and now a job for tomorrow.  

It's the Shit,

Katie E. Eshelman

17 April 2013

Post #79

About a year ago I checked my mailbox and discovered a magazine called "Cat Fancy".  What in the flying fuck?  I assumed it was Megan's.  I sat down, shook my head, and came up with a game plan for my sister's "Feline Intervention."  Turns out my friend played a vicious joke on me and it was in fact subscribed to me...for a whole damn year.  Well done Kate, well done.

12 months later...

Perhaps...I AM  still trying to crack the code on why Bitch Tits
wants to kill me.

In other news:  I purchased what I thought were four, large, spectacular, wine sippy-cups (because I am a sophisticated adult of course.)  Flat out fail.  I anxiously awaited the delivery of these mother fuckers for three months.  They are the size of shot glasses.

Oh look, a new ring!!!

Naturally Zosh was a fan, she loves when my dreams are destroyed.

That sippy-shotglass is RUINED!  Cat licked it for fuck's sake.  Gross.

Sips and giggles,

Katie E. Eshelman

16 April 2013

Post #78

I have been shamed.

Apparently, my sister is not happy when I buy random, unnecessary chemicals and spill/splash/toss them onto her floor coverings.  Yeah, I fucked up and thought that Ferrofluid was a fun idea...

It wasn't.  Looks like a bat took a shit on our living room rug.

Noted.  Such horseshit, we needed new rugs in the first place.

It's not like I won't replace them, I manage a flooring store for fuck's sake.  Needless to say, my last delivery was approached with baby steps.  Silly Putty can't possibly damage the rugs we no longer have.  I believe I won this battle.

H2Oh Shit,

Katie E. Eshelman

10 April 2013

Post #77

I had a dream last night I was engaged to my ex-boyfriend and was a vegetarian.  Let me rephrase that.  I woke up in the middle of the goddamn night, sweating profusely; in the throws of a deep, brain fucking, nightmare.  Once I came to my senses and realized that it was in fact a slumber-induced horror?  I couldn't fall back to sleep.  Far too dangerous. So, I thought I would watch TV.  Nope...son of a bitch, remote is missing.  Pinterest it was.  Found this, I think it most accurately depicts my emotions of the early morning.

He didn't put a ring on it...and I still love meat!

I have decided to never eat late night linguini and clam sauce again.  Terrible fucking idea.  In fact, second worst idea I've had this month.  The first?  Buying my dad Gallium.  http://www.lenntech.com/periodic/elements/ga.htm  I thought it would bring him back to his childhood when he used to roll pennies in mercury.

Absolutely not as cool as mercury and taints your hands like
you rubbed them in newspaper ink.

Came home to the shipment and couldn't help myself, I had to test it out.  Luckily, I was heavily buzzed. So, instead of containing it in the palm of my hand while being awed by it's magical powers.  I prudently and somewhat accidentally, tossed it all over my sister's bathroom and called it a night. 

Yeehaw! Hasta maƱana!!!

Woke up the next day with black hands and a mild headache.  Walked downstairs, where my sister gently asked why there was Mercury all over the fucking place.  It's gallium Megan, not mercury...get it right for fuck's sake.  Plus, I am almost positive it's not dangerous.  The Internet wouldn't ship me harmful material.  I am fairly certain she wasn't exceptionally pleased with my answer. 

All in all April has been wildly successful.

Twenty-nine and counting!

Katie E. Eshelman