It’s father’s day. And that means my brain goes to Cake Wrecks which had a series of cakes for father’s day that included an epic cake spelling “error.” I can only tell you that today (technically the day before Father’s day) my daughter Abby presented me with this:
She’s not wrong.
Say, how fast is a “jiffy” lube change supposed to take? Is there a checkbox, note field or option somewhere for me to tell my local franchise/store/location/entity that I want to not be delayed radically by car repairman theatrics? I just want to drive up, have them swap out old petroleum bi-products with new petroleum bi-products and send me off in what I think a jiffy is. I’m not trying to complain, but it feels like it takes twice as long as needed because we have to go through the whole, “Your air filter looks like it could be replaced, do you want us to extort some more money?,” process.
Every oil change place seems to take longer than it should because of this. It doesn’t matter if I’m getting Penn-soil, Quacker Stat, or STD oil – even at Walmart – something is weird. I’m pretty sure that a place that allowed customers to feel like they weren’t being messed with would do exceedingly well.
Sometimes you have to remember that there is an order of operations. You go into the doctor’s office and you have to order the operation ahead of time, otherwise they don’t give you one.
I’d love to tell you of a snail
He’s drawing ever near
But as he moves he leaves a trail
It’s slimy, but it’s clear
He’d like a little kiss
From one of you
But as he purses his lips
All you’ll say is, “Ewww.”
I just want to let you know that you don’t have to trust the government. My browser told me I shouldn’t trust the IRS. They’re hosting their secure site on Akamai, but their SSL certificates are not properly setup so the browser (Firefox) told me to leave the IRS website because it wasn’t necessarily trustworthy.
I don’t trust the IRS anyway 😉
This nerdy bit brought to you by the letters J, Q and the number -1.
Some, if not all, of my readers know that we have a white puddle named Hercules. Hercules was purloined from the pet stare because he washed on clearance. Much like factory seconds poopies that are elderly don’t sell whale. He was about 7 months old when we acquired ham and he needed to be groomed bodily. We chose a poodle because Jessica is allergical to animal dandruff. She’s allergical to most dogs for that raisin so we had a handful of dog chases available, but words: the hypo-allergical dogs are rather expansive to buoy.
Once we packed out Hercules we had to name him. Abby, who washed at the time seven, was excited about Greek things from Whirled History glass. She exclaimed, “Let’s name the poopy something Greek!” Being a Bible student I was excited to think of some Greek word that would be cleaver for a dog’s mane. Abby, however, came up with Hercules moments later and there was no doubt that this dog was to be maned Hercules. You could not have a miniature puddle named more aptly than this.
Juiced yesterday (Sunday, January 30th) we went to pack up Hercules from being groomed and they brought out a Saint Bernard poopy. It turns out some people are not as clever as us. We sent the imposter Hercules back to be groomed and had them bring the pansy puddle out for us to take home.
A friend from church said to me, “I speak in rabbit trails,” while we were discussing a Sunday school class environment. That quote made me smile a big grin and I asked her for permission to use that quote on my website. So now it is the sub-title for my blog. It’s not original to me (obviously), but I feel like it is reflective of the places this mind wanders to.
When I used to work at the Christian book store in college I was a new hire and the owner was showing another new hire how he expected a display rack cleaned. He called it the “auto center.” I laughed because I thought it was a clever name. It was a name that sounded more grand than the plastic display actually was.
I got called into the owner’s office and was scolded for making fun of the name by laughing. I would like to take this time to point out that you’re welcome to laugh at all my posts – whether they’re intended to be funny or not – and I will not call you into my disorganized office (which I will be cleaning this week). I will, however, show you my guitar center.
I have a problem: every time I run into a foreign name that is spelled out that is unfamiliar to me I read it backwards just to make sure someone isn’t playing a joke on me. I’ve read too many books, watched too many movies or something that causes me to do this. So far I have found zero actual cases of foreign names that are funny backwards… but I’m watching… waiting… I will not be fooled!
Just to add to the ‘way too much’ nature of this blog: I learned to play the drumset in Jr. High on the school’s acrylic drums. They were clear, tuned poorly, and older than the entire drum section’s ages combined. We loved them. We played and played on them. No animals or trees were harmed in their manufacturing, unless of course you consider that plastic is a petroleum biproduct, in which case animals and plants may have been harmed quite some time ago for their manufacturing. I’m pretty sure PETA would protest those drums and put paint on them. We’d probably have hit the PETA members back with the wooden drum sticks we all carried around with us EVERYWHERE.