C’mon, I double-dog dare you not to emit at least one oooh…or ahhh..over this cutey-pie – a red fox native to Japan.

Also, you’re welcome.

Because I’m Weird and Fascinated by Obscure and Bizarre Medical Stuff

I spend too much time in the rabbit hole (Internet) reading about strange home remedies of yore.

I started this some time ago when I found that, like me, many kids were subjected to the following from parents bent on murder:

  1. Turpentine (yes, as in paint thinner/remover) on sugar – to get rid of “worms”, and by “worms” I mean any intestinal distress or butt itching.
  2. Vicks – taken internally to get rid of a cold, sore throat, etc.
  3. Castor Oil – technically not a poison, but you’ll never convince me of it.

So, anyway, here’s a few others I found….umm…interesting:

Need relief from a stopped-up nose? Soak a cotton ball in cocaine (yes, as in coke) and shove it up there.

Got a sore throat? Then mix cocaine with warm water and olive oil, and drink.

To relieve eczema, soak cloths in laudanum and lead acetate.  Apply to the affected area.

Losing your hair? Well, just drink a tea of sage and whisky.

And, if you suffer from acne just mix cannabis with lard and apply liberally to the affected areas.

I have no idea if any of these worked, but I suspect no one really gave a shit after trying them either, because cannabis/coke/laudanum.


This interwebby thing, or whatever it is that the kids are calling it these days, has its own language.  A slang term for nearly everything has been invented.

It’s not your mama’s interwebby, that’s for sure, and for those of us who didn’t grow up all OMG and WTF, there’s a lot of catching up/on to be done.

Some things, though, I may never get.

You really don’t want to know how long it took me to figure out this one:


Or this;


And this one from a girls’ little makeup kit (which had a geisha on the lid and isn’t technically an IS, but it took me weeks to figure out):

Mih Soh Preetee

I still can’t remember what this one is sometimes:


And I’ve finally gotten comfortable with using these:


But, I still do not know what this means:


I send a loooooooooong text, and that’s what I get back? Does it mean ‘okay’, and ‘I’m too lazy to type the rest of the word’?  Or is it, ‘You’re not worth the time to write ‘okay’, so I’m just using one letter’?  Or is it, ‘This is symbolic of my passive-aggressive attitude towards your last text, and up yours?’

That’s one I may never know the answer to.


Sheridan Makes an Excellent and Profound Observation

This is from BuzzFeed, and Sheridan’s quote about airbrushing is perfectly eloquent and spot on.

Who are these women?

I’m Pretty Sure, Sir David Attenborough Is Not a Liar

………but damn…..

This bird, I swear…I just…wha…..holy shit

And That’s How I (Maybe) Got a Puppy

Few things in the entire universe are more frustrating for me than shopping for insurance, any insurance.

This is part of the reason I haven’t changed car insurance companies in 12 years.  That, and the fantastic discount I get because I’ve been with them for 12 years.

Every year, though, I have to go through the whole process of renewing or changing my homeowner’s insurance.

Last year, though, last year was different.

I was informed that my homeowner’s insurance, that I’d had for three years, was dumping me.

Just like that.

No explanations, no reasons, nothing.

I hadn’t made any claims.  I hadn’t even looked at another company’s rates to compare.


And yet, here I was being dumped.

Then, it became evident why as I tried to secure new insurance.

Every conversation with an agent went like this:

ME: I need to get a quote on homeowner’s insurance.


ME: Okay…blah, blah, blah…I give them the particulars.

STILL ENTHUSIASTIC REP:  And how old is your roof?

ME: (confused as to why my roof was singled out) It’s original to the house, so 18 yrs.

TOTALLY DEFLATED REP: Ohhhhhhhh…I’m sorrywecan’thelpyouIhavetogonow…


This happened twenty-three times.

I’m not shitting you, twenty-fecking-three times.

On lucky number twenty-four, I found a rep for the insurance company from hell, a/k/a Farmer’s Insurance.

(I don’t care how cute their commercials are, they are the spawn of Satan and soon you’ll agree.)

ME: I need to get a quote on homeowner’s insurance, and beforewegoanyfarthermyroofis18yrsold.


ME: *speechless*

REP: Ma’am?

ME: Oh, right…did you just say you’d cover an 18-yr. old roof, at replacement cost?

REP: Yes.

ME: Why?

REP: ‘Scuse me?

ME: I mean why will Farmer’s cover it, and twenty-three other companies won’t?

REP: I can’t say ma’am.

ME: Fine. Whatever. I just wish I’d of called you first.

REP: Well, you found us now. So, you can relax.

ME: Good..and here’s the rest of the info…….

I got the coverage, and paid a stupid amount (“Well, we do cover the roof but it will cost a little more, because 18-yr. old roof…”)

Four months later the house was pummeled by hail.  I’ve lived in Texas nearly 40 years, and I’ve seen hailstorms.  Lots of hailstorms.  But this one was different.  The hail was golf-ball size and was hitting the house with such force the windows shuddered.

I was sure my roof was toast.

Thank the hail-gods I’d gotten replacement cost coverage for it, amiright?


We made the claim, and the little adjuster in the Farmer’s Insurance hybrid car came out to tsk, tsk the damage and tell us how sorry he was and did we want a puppy to make us feel better? (okay, I may have made that last part up, but he schmoooooooozed)

The next day he called me…

“Well, ma’am I have your estimate, and you’re going to need a new roof, but with the roof’s depreciation….”

“Wait, what??” I replied, “I have replacement cost coverage.  I thought that meant you know REPLACEMENT COST COVERAGE.”

“Oh, yes ma’am it does..for everything except the roof.  Can’t get that kind of coverage on any roof over 15 yrs. old.”

“Why wasn’t I told this?”

“You were, and it’s in your policy.”

“Who reads their policy??” I asked, knowing I should have, but distinctly remembering that with all the brou-ing and ha-ha-ing over my ‘old’ roof in the twenty-three rejections I made it clear I had to have replacement cost coverage. “The agent and I discussed this, and I made it quite clear I didn’t want to buy the insurance unless I got replacement cost coverage.”

“Umm…let me check with the agent.”

“Yeah, you do that”, I said,  “I’m sure he’ll back me up.”

The next day, the little adjuster called to tell me that the agent had personally informed me at the time of purchase that I did not have replacement cost coverage on my roof, specifically calling that little line of fine print to my attention.

“Bullshit” I said, “I’ve never even spoken to the man.  Everything was done by e-mail, except the very first call in which I told him I had to have replacement cost coverage on the entire house, roof and all.”

*cue crickets*

“Hello?” I asked.

“Well, ma’am I am only repeating what I was told.” He said, adding, “and we’ll have to take that puppy back, too”

(Again, I may have made up that last part..maybe)

So, for a nearly-$10K roof I got…wait for it….$1,500.

Since the roof did not leak (and it looked pretty good, actually) we used the money to repair the fencing and some other items also damaged in the hailstorm.

I cannot abide liars, and Farmer’s Insurance is represented by liars. I vowed to get rid of Farmer’s Insurance when renewal time came around, and I didn’t care if I had to make fifty calls to do it.

So, this year when it came time to renew I picked up the phone.

On the second try, I talked to an Allstate agent.

ME: I need a quote on homeowner’s insurance, and my current roof is 19 yrs. old and has minor hail damage from a July 2014 storm, and stop me now if you cannot quote me…

ALLSTATE AGENT:  No, it’s fine.  We just have to inspect the roof, and if it looks like it’s worn to say a 3-yr. old roof level we can cover it.  If it looks more worn than a 3-yr. old roof, we cover it but not for replacement cost.

ME: Can I get that in writing beforehand?

AA: Yes, ma’am.

And I did.

And they inspected, and guess what?

I got FULL replacement cost coverage….and a puppy.

I Knew This Was Coming

So, my car spends one week in the shop and you know my trusty service advisor’s boss had this convo with him.

Supv: So, what’s with the Impala?

ServAdv: Yeah, lady claims it makes a weird grinding sound and won’t go when she turns to the right.  Usually only when it’s cold, though.

Supv: And?

ServAdv: We can’t find anything wrong with it.

Supv: Is it still under warranty?

ServAdv: Yep

Supv: So, how much you going to charge her?

ServAdv: $144.50 and we’re telling her the trouble is that her car is due for the 30K mile injector cleaning.

Supv: Excellent.  Can’t let a car sit here for a week and not charge the customer something.

Cue laughter.

And, guess what the car started doing 4 days after I brought it home?

I’m taking it to a real mechanic next week and having him diagnose it, then I’m taking that info to my trusty service advisor and have him fix the car.

And also guess what?

The car I sold, to get this car, just turned over 200K miles and is purrin’ like a kitten.  Running perfectly, no problems at all.


Apparently No One Keeps the Camaro

My car is a 2012 Chevy Impala, and lately it’s begun to do weird things.  Like refusing to budge, despite my politely placing it in gear and gently pressing on the gas pedal. It particularly likes to refuse my requests in reverse, or when turning, or when it’s cold.  Add to this the strange shuddering and grinding sounds it’s making, and my instincts tell me..something’s wrong.

I’m intuitive like that.

I just refuse to believe that a car, with only 40K miles on it, should be exhibiting such behavior. Especially since this is nearly identical behavior to what drove (heh..heh..see what I did there?) me to take it in last June, when they replaced all the fluglebinders (it’s an industry term) what made the wheels go round and round in front, under warranty.

So, yesterday I took the car to the dealership to drop it off and find out just what the feck is going on, again.

Consensus of opinion, from various shadetree mechanics I know, is that it’s the CV joint in the right front wheel.

Apparently, that’s bad.  As in, the car may just stop suddenly on the highway.  And by suddenly, I mean as if you’d hit an invisible wall…which would no doubt lead to actually hitting a wall, or being hit by something that feels akin to hitting a wall…at 60 mph.

I told my personal service advisor (*eyes roll*) the trouble, and “whew…am I glad that’s covered under the powertrain warranty..” to which he replied, “no it’s not…”  So, I looked it up on the Chevrolet’s website where it lists things like “Shit We Cover Under the 100K Powertrain Warranty, and Unicorns” and gollleeee, right there in black and white coverage it lists the CV joints.

I haven’t imparted that wisdom to my personal service advisor (*eyes roll…again*) yet, because I’m waiting to hear what he has to say.

All of which has nothing to do with the title of this post.

I’m getting to that part.

As I turned into the dealership, I had to pass the “Pre-Owned Sales” lot.  I saw a mid-40’s ish couple looking at a silver Camaro.

Then I noticed the red Camaro, the blue one, the other silver one, more reds and a few blacks.  The entire lot was damn-near door-to-midlife crisis-door with ‘pre-owned’ (what does that even mean?? It was owned before it was owned? Never understood that..) Camaros.  Most of them looked to be within a year or two of rolling off the assembly line.

It was a procession of shattered dreams and loves lost.  I could hear the sobs as I drove past them.

I went inside the service department, noting that not a single Camaro was in for service, and stood next to a lot of other dissatisfied GM-product owners.

One young lady struck up a conversation with me.

Hey, this is Texas, if you stand still in any line long enough you’ll hear someone’s life story.

She told me that she’d driven up from Houston that morning in her 2013 Equinox, only to have it break down near her destination.  It was doing the same thing my car is doing.

I looked at my personal service advisor (*eyes..okay, you get it*) and said, “I used to believe in GM products…I’m just sayin’”

Others in line snickered or nodded, grumbling ensued.

“Hey, now!” personal service advisor said.

“Well, see…her car is doing the same thing as mine – it sounds like – and you know why?  Because the same worker assembled them, and he was hungover..both times.  His wife left him for that damned exotic dancer and he can’t let it go….”

The line erupted in laughter.

I was on a roll.

“I had an ’05 Impala, and it’s still running perfectly.  But that was before Homer’s wife left him. It was right after their second honeymoon to Cozumel..”

Everyone, including me, dissolved into fits of giggles.

My personal service advisor even joined in.

Finally, the Houston lady was given a loaner and sent on her way.  She’s in town till Friday, so they’ve got a couple of days to figure it out.

And I was given my loaner.  A 2015 Malibu with the most comfortable seats in a car I have ever sat in.  No lie, these things are amazing.

But, the car shuts off every time you come to a full stop.  Personal service advisor says it’s a “cool feature, that saves gas” and I heard, “weird shit that’ll break within a year, or if it doesn’t your engine will die a premature death from all the unnecessary starts”.

Also, at the post office yesterday I found out that if you bend your head down to text you exert the equivalent of 60 lbs. of pressure on your neck.

I told you this is Texas, and you learn a lot standing in line.

By the way, I know where you can probably get a Camaro, cheap.

I Must Have Taken the “W” Train

You know how we all kid when we’re talking about how before someone was born they missed the brain train, or looks train, or whatever?

Don’t read me in that tone, you know we’ve all done it.

Well, I took the W train where ‘W’ means weird.

Not that I’m weird.

Okay, I may be just a bit weird.

Alright, a LOT weird.

But, my body..my body is weird in so many ways.

Like the time everyone in the family got pink eye, except me.  I got cellulitis and the ophthalmologist treating me was so excited (giddy, actually) to see it he dragged out the huge book of “Eye Diseases: Things That Look Horrid and Can Kill” (I may have made up that title) to excitedly tell me that he’d heard of this in school, but never thought he’d see it.  It being the bacteria marching through my eye and headed to my brain (it stopped before the brain, thank God, or I’d be posting this from the hereafter).

Or the time I got strep throat, tested positive for it, and my tonsils had been gone for over 40 years. Or when I got mono, from one of my grandchildren, or when I got mumps twice, or when my skin turned green as a Martian and one side of my neck (lymph gland) looked like I’d swallowed a softball and it was lodged there, and NO ONE knew what was wrong with me..never figured it out, and no it wasn’t hepatitis.

Or the time I stopped breathing because the doctor gave me a shot of penicillin.  I was three, and sick, and that’s how sick three year olds were treated in the Stone Age.  That lead to a lifelong theory that I was deathly allergic to penicillin, until I did the penicillin challenge test, and yay! I’m not allergic to penicillin, but when I take it I get all puke-y, so I really didn’t gain anything.

I told the allergy doc about my weird body when I went to see her for my pineapple allergy.

Hmm…wassat?  You’ve never heard of a person being allergic to pineapples?

Neither had I, or she, until I ate pineapple one day – after years of enjoying this delicious fruit without incident – and immediately found breathing terribly difficult as my throat closed.

It wasn’t the first time it had happened, but it was the first time that pineapple was the only thing I’d eaten, so it was the first time I realized that I was allergic to pineapple and not the preservatives in trail mix.  You see, a few weeks before this I’d eaten a trail mix with dried fruit and nuts. It had pineapple in it and shortly after eating it my hands doubled in size and my arms, hands, neck, and face were covered in hives.

That was fun.

No, no it wasn’t, but I blamed the preservatives and swore off anything dried.

After the last episode I went to the allergy doctor and told her about the pineapple reaction.

She stared at me for at least a full minute before saying, “I’ve been doing this for over 15 years, and I’ve never heard of that.”

Of course she hadn’t, but then she hadn’t known me back then.

Rather than have me test the pineapple theory, to be sure I had the allergy, she gave me an Epi-Pen to carry around.

Because, PINEAPPLE and ninja PINEAPPLE are out there, people.

They Call It Witchcraft

I’m inclined to agree.

Amazeballs and awesomesauce all rolled into one.


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