This article was shared on FaceBook by a dear friend. Sex Robots Are Being Made to Replace Men by 2025. Now if that doesn’t scream “click on me” I don’t know what does.
After a nano second, I gave into my temptation and this is what I read:
Sex with a humanoid robot will become common practice by 2025, even overtaking sex between humans, says futurologist, Ian Pearson. His report on the future of sex has been published in partnership with Bondara, one of UK’s leading sex toy shops.
Is a futurologist a real thing? Yes
As you can see, this was the “idea” of a man. My first thought as a woman, a/k/a the sex with common sense, was “that thing is not going to fit in the nightstand drawer.”
It was at that exact moment when I grabbed my idea shattering oozie and began to fire into Ian’s brainstorm to replace men in the boudoir.
I hope this letter finds you well. First of all, congrats on being a futurologist! No doubt your parents are over the moon with this career choice. But I’m sure you already knew they would be cool with it before you officially broke the news.
Now, back to the reason, I’m writing. This article does not mention how you came to your conclusion, but something tells me you did not interview many women in the process, because if you did, I’m certain this idea would have died a quick death in the early stages of its development.
First, let me just quote something for your article:
“A lot of people will still have reservations about sex with robots at first but gradually as they get used to them, as the AI and mechanical behaviour and their feel improves, and they start to become friends with strong emotional bonds, that squeamishness will gradually evaporate. While some people will enthusiastically embrace relationship-free robot sex as soon as they can afford one, as early as 2025, it won’t have much chance of overtaking sex with humans overall until 2050,” said Pearson
Honestly, where does one even begin?
Should I start with the price tag, the definition of “gradual” or your time-table?
Considering I grew up in the 70’s and expected to be flying around with my jet-pack by now, I’m going to say with confidence that your numbers are way off. Can you say Jetsons?
Our future adults will be too busy paying off their college loans to spare any additional cash for one of these things. Masturbation is free.
No one has time to wait for a mechanical device to start acting like a human being. Gradual is a long time. Not to mention we’re still waiting for some humans to act like humans.
As a woman, with a real vagina, I found some flaws in your prediction from the female point of view:
- Women are not giving up closet space to store this sex machine. Closet space would be negotiated if this thing could do wash and clean bathrooms;
- Women are not jumping in the hay with an emotionally dead robot … again. This thing needs to be charming, buy drinks and again, clean bathrooms if you want sales;
- Women are not cleaning their robot man after it has their way, women don’t play that game. If this thing is not “self-cleaning”, not like the oven, which still requires work. I mean literally finding a cleaning product, scrubbing itself down; and putting everything away, including itself, you can forget it.
- Women would insist on a money back guarantee. What if this thing starts taking on asshole characteristics during the development stage? NO!
I’m sure you’re ready to refute my thoughts with some scientific facts that claim women would live longer if they had more orgasms, which I’m sure has some truth to it, but in reality woman would live a hell of a lot longer without the added stress of storing a sex robot in the bedroom.
Enjoy the Ride! Preferably with a human.
“What was the last thing that gave you a real, authentic, tearful, hearty belly laugh? Why was it so funny?”
This question is by far one of the easiest I’ve ever had to answer. I am what some might consider an easy laugh and they’re right.
My answer to this question came on Friday, February 5th while sitting in, are you ready? the dentist chair. How many people can say that?
I’ve been going to my dentist for years. My mouth is a dental Disneyland so it’s a win/win. Always exciting, always something new, and always guaranteed cash. What’s not to love about that?
We really have a wonderful relationship, especially now that I’ve put both his children through college, and I’m currently helping him with a real estate deal in Center City. I’m such a giver … really.
Well, on Friday I was going in for a quick $418.00 visit. Off with the temporary cap, on with the permanent one. In and out. Nothing ever goes according to plan with this mouth.
As he was getting started he signaled his assistant to get the suction going, but something was off about the conversation. I could tell he was getting frustrated. Um because I was right there with my mouth opened like the Holland Tunnel listening.
Dentist: Are you hungry?
Me: I motioned “no” with my head. Since I had a hand, vacuum, and some sort of light in my mouth at the time. I followed up with a shrug which was my way of asking “why?”
Dentist: You seem to have a lot of saliva today. The suction can’t keep up. I’m about to bring in the wet vac.
Me: Lost it!
Dentist & Assistant: Lost it!
** The rest of this conversation took place through laughter, which just made it funnier, which led to yet more laughter.**
Dentist: Can you swallow?
Me: Not without drowning.
Dentist: Bite down on this. A small piece of cotton.
Me: You might want to get something more absorbent. Just the thought of a roll of Bounty in my mouth cracked me up.
Dentist: I hate to say this … rinse out.
Me: Practically crying with laughter.
Dentist: In my entire career I never had to change gloves in the middle of a procedure.
Me: Laughing at his now serious manner. Well, I got 99 problems, but extra saliva isn’t one of them.
Everyone: Uncontrollable laughter
Enjoy the ride!
As I was driving into work one morning, listening to one of my many favorite morning radio shows “The Preston & Steve Show” on 93.3 WMMR here in Philly. I say “many” because I am beyond a channel changer while driving. But this show certainly has a way of making my ride a little brighter as I head to the
salt mines office every day.
This particular morning there was a discussion on a new book titled “Carsick” by John Waters. It’s a wonderful entertaining story about John’s decision to hitchhike across the country. As the DJ’s were discussing excerpts from the book, listeners were calling in to tell their personal stories about a time when they had no other choice but to hitch a ride. I found this all very intriguing.
Lucky for me John was making his rounds promoting his tale and I was able to catch an interview with him on the Bill Maher Show. I ordered the audio version right smack in the middle of the interview!
I must say I have never listened to a book before, because I am a traditional girl who enjoys her books written on paper, but since I have a 30-40 minute ride to the gym every day, I thought this would be a good way to pass the time and avoid my OCD channel changing … Mission accomplished John!
Many of you may already know that the then 66 year-old Baltimore film director John Waters decided to hitchhike from his home in Baltimore Maryland to his home in San Francisco. Crazy or living life?
Just the idea of such a journey in 2014, when the world seems so humanly disconnected, had me completely fascinated. I’m not sure why since I never had a wish to hitchhike … especially since most hitchhikers are usually portrayed as serial murders and frankly I’m a scardy cat. However, John did point out that most serial killers are looking for 20-year-old hookers and that did make me feel much safer.
The excitement as I put the first CD into the player was admittedly a tad over the top, but who cares … I just wanted to hear all the details of this journey … one CD at a time.
After listening to at least 2 CD’s I started to think …. “why haven’t I heard about any of this on the news?”
Well, the answer to that million dollar question was found when I decided to read up on the details of the book. Something I usually do before I hit the “Add to cart” button. This is where I learned I that the first half of the book was John’s fictional version of his trip. Let me just say If anyone has some swamp land they want to get rid of … I’m your girl.
First up are the fictional good and bad rides; followed by the real rides that got him to San Francisco. 3 books for the price of 1!
If you’ve ever seen or read any of John’s past work you are well aware that his imagination reaches a level that most people cannot even fathom and he does not hold back in the fictional version of his journey. Some might think it was over the top, others (like myself) might think … hey, you never know.
John wouldn’t be John without adding some exaggerated lewdness to the first half of the book. Hey, he isn’t known as the “Pope of Trash” for his portrayal of sunshine and butterflies. There were times when I think I might have blushed, cringed and laughed behind the wheel as I listened to him tell his fictional tale, but it didn’t stop me.
His words just confirmed that if anyone in this world was going to have sex with an Alien; be given a magical asshole for three hours that would fix a flat and sing duets with Connie Frances … well, it would be John Waters.
After all the crazy antics of the fictional adventures, I heard the words “The Real Thing” and I found myself so engrossed that I was driving in circles just to finish a chapter. It was worth every ounce of fuel … even at $3.67 a gallon!
I couldn’t help but imagine myself as one of those dashboard hula girls eavesdropping on every ride. Best seat in the house.
Does all of this make me want to manicure my thumb and hit the highway? Not one bit. It does however urge me to head into each day with my wit, optimism and belief that not every stranger is a serial killer … some are just out there to Enjoy the Ride … just like me.
As a parent watching shows such as Law & Order SVU and Criminal Minds take me to another level of worry. My already over active imagination suddenly kicks into high gear if my children are 5 minutes late. Hell, just watching the local news can scare the crap of you these days.
Needless to say my kiddies think I’m some sort of crazy woman for wasting an ounce of time being concerned about their safety … “Mom, I’m fine stop” and “OMG Mom just put me in bubble wrap!” Hmm…bubble wrap.
The parents of yesteryear, such as my own, may have had their concerns, but they weren’t even close to this level. Columbo and Kojack kept fear to a minimum. Things were just different I guess.
I certainly don’t recall endless lectures about “stranger danger”, however I do remember walking home with my friend and being summoned over to a car by a man asking for “directions”, only to have the displeasure of viewing a little one on one loving … if you know what I mean. Oddly enough I wasn’t scared. Grossed out yes, scared no. Today this story would have been on the 6 o’clock news, but back then I’m not even sure if we told our parents.
Thinking back it seems perverts were actually all around us, including behind the wheel of the Good Humor truck. You may never think of a Rocket Pop in the same way again…read on. My sister, who was giving Dolly Parton a run for her money by age twelve, was presented with an interesting proposition by the one and only Good Humor guy. That’s all she had to do was jump rope for him and she could have FREE ice-cream. Were we running away in fear? HELL NO! She was happily jumping away for her free goodies as me and the rest of the stick figures stood in the distance green with envy. The thought that there was something wrong with this request never even entered our naive little minds.
One, such as my daughter, may say that this naivety is still going strong within me. Her theory, after a few Sociology classes, is that I am so worried about her and her brother because in reality I would be the one getting into the van in search of that imaginary puppy. She may actually be on to something … don’t tell her I said that.
Just a couple of months ago my daughter and I were taking Peanut for his evening walk. Now, when I’m out I tend to greet people, however my daughter tends to be … well … a mannequin. I know! We are complete opposites. So, on this particular evening there was an unusual amount of people out enjoying the weather. Jackpot for this social butterfly, not so much for the mannequin.
A few blocks from home I stopped to admire a beautiful garden. The design was spectacular. You could just tell a tremendous amount of love went into to tending to the needs of this foliage. I do not have a green thumb, so this was indeed impressive. Just as I was trying to bring a potted mix to the attention of my
mannequin daughter, the owner appeared. She was elderly with a very heavy German accent. At this point my daughter was most likely Tweeting away #socialbutterflymom #annoying.
As I was professing my love for her talents, she began picking a few springs from the potted mix explaining that they were herbs. My eyes were the size of saucers! She was insisting that I smell them, which I did without an ounce of question. Of course, not to be rude I offered my daughter a sniff as well. #Idon’ttakeherbsfromstrangers #mymomisgretel.
Needless to say I stood there sniffing away for lord knows how long as I was no doubt being slammed all over Social Media.
We said our goodbyes and I was handed a roadie of herbs as a parting gift. I immediately began lecturing my daughter on her lack of socialization when she informed me I would talk to a stick if it had a face. I wouldn’t go that far … well maybe.
We were walking along as I happily continued to ingest the aroma of my little bundle when suddenly I found myself slammed against a parked car, before I hit the ground. I become very dizzy. Well guess who suddenly came to life as I was laying on the ground like a porpoise? The mannequin!
There I was with my knees scraped, still holding onto my herb roadie in shock when I hear these comforting words being screamed at me … “Mom! OMG, this is what you get for taking things from strangers! You are the only one in our family who would get in a car filled with duct tape and knives! I couldn’t deny she was right in her conclusion, but I certainly wasn’t about to reveal that I would most likely be suggesting a quick stop at Home Depot to my abductor. You know for the rope and tarp he forgot to pick up.
In the end I was fine and we got a good laugh out of it all. I can not deny that if I miraculously came upon a house made of sweets I would be chowing down on a chocolate shingle without a care in the world. I tend to see the good, not the oven large enough to fit a human. Enjoy the Ride!
Tell us about the most surprising helping hand you’ve ever received.
Helping hands have shown up in my life recently and just in the nick of time if I do say so myself. That’s right humanity came strolling in, fashionably late of course, complete with party horns & confetti to join in on all the festivities. Was I “surprised”? Not really because that’s how humanity rolls.
Considering the level of activity around these parts over the past few months, it wasn’t too shocking to anyone that my emotions decided to go into a full-blown tailspin, but the timing couldn’t have been worse. Now that was a big fat ssurprise!
Believe me when I tell you I admire the complexity of the human brain, but there are times when I really wish it had an “off” switch. Perhaps it could have been installed when I became a mother. God obviously missed the memo on “When Women Worry”, along with the follow-up memo “When Mothers Worry … A Whole Other Story,” otherwise he would have included the switch. He was probably off creating a giraffe or something so I’ll let him slide, since giraffes are so badass.
I was at the point of going from mole hill to mountain in one second flat, which is what can happen when your creative juices decide to collaborate with your fears. These 2 should never hook up … ever. Unfortunately for me they were in an on and off relationship since September, but decided to take it to another level in February and by the end of March they were nothing short of hot & heavy. Such sluts!
So, on that particular Thursday when I pulled into the parking lot at work, I could not believe what suddenly began to unfold. One minute I’m laughing along with the morning Dj’s and the next my heart is pounding out of my chest. My imagination and fears decided to get it on right there in the parking lot!
Somehow I managed to get out of the car and right into my first set of helping hands. Lord knows I must have appeared completely crazy, but in the moment I was more concerned about dying and much less concerned about first impressions. This stranger walked me to my office, assured me I was “ok” and wrapped those helping hands around me with a supporting hug before closing the door. Suddenly I was alone with the dynamic duo again…this was not good.
Next set of helping hands to show up was my boss. Oh, yes you did read that correctly. By the time he arrived on the scene, not only was my heart pounding out of my chest, but the tears were uncontrollable. He assured me I was NOT having a heart attack, but what did he know? … he’s only a DOCTOR for god sakes! My brain was already claiming victory over this battle!
Just as I was about to wave my white flag and let my brain wear the crown some helping hands joined forces. My friend/co-worker arrived and knew exactly what to do. Honestly, the only thing missing was her white horse. She held my hand and walked me down to the office of my family doctor while reinforcing the fact that I was NOT having a heart attack. Um, I still wasn’t believing it.
Her helping hands had a magnetic force that attracted more hands into my circle of need, while never loosening her grip on mine. The girls at the desk, the medical assistant and the nurse practitioner all worked together with my friend to ensure me that I would come from behind and start kicking some crazy ass very soon. It really does take a village people.
By the time this all ended I was whipped! My brain is pretty freaking tough, but my spirit is much tougher thanks to all those helping hands. They helped me to get back on the road to Enjoy the Ride!
This week’s writing challenge: Tell us about a character in your life.
Where the heck do I even begin with this challenge? My dilemma isn’t a lack of material, it’s narrowing down the list. I’m not sure if it’s my overly curious nature or keen listening skills, but my path is always crossing crazy. Never a dull moment that’s for sure.
For this piece I decided to share the likes of Kathy MacDonald, a coworker from my very first “real” job. You haven’t experienced characters of the real world until you work for the Federal Government in Center City Philadelphia, at a meer 18 years old. This was similar to dropping a lamb off into the center of the jungle.
I’m not certain of Kathy’s age at the time, considering 30 year olds appear ancient when you’re 18, but if I were to guess, I would place her around 60 at the time. She had white cotton candy shaped hair, large glasses with over exaggerated features. Her cleavage doubled as a clutch purse and her voice was that of a well seasoned smoker, however Kathy never smoked. Kathy’s wardrobe consisted of nothing from the current decade and everything from the closet of a retired 60’s go-go girl, complete with colored plastic beads & baubles to match any shade on the color spectrum. She stepped right off of a Far Side calendar and planted herself in the desk behind mine.
My first day of employment was 6/14/1982, better known as Flag Day. I will never again forget this fact due to Kathy MacDonald, who was dressed as a human american flag in honor of the holiday. As if the red,white & blue ensemble weren’t enough, it was accessorized with flag earrings, a red sparkly headband, all sorts of red, white & blue plastic beads and bangles with blue socks that donned stars and of course, white sandals. I was in awe!
She introduced herself just as she headed out the door at lunch time to partake in the festivities over at Independence Hall. I had never met anyone who celebrated Flag Day with such enthusiasm in my life. To be honest, at 18 I probably had no idea there was a holiday called Flag Day. I quickly learned that ALL holidays were celebrated equally in true Kathy fashion.
Kathy always had a story that my 18-year-old ears had no business hearing, but I couldn’t help but be completely absorbed in her tales. One day she called me over to her desk to discuss the discomfort she was having with her “girdle”. I patiently listened how this “girdle” was pinching her skin, yet she didn’t feel it was doing its job. I had NO IDEA what a girdle was up until this point…I was just coming out of diapers for god sakes! She proceeded to raise her dress to reveal this torturous device that spanned from her neck to the middle of her thighs. It was covered in metal zippers with these elastic ribbons that held up her stockings. It’s really a shame that cell phone cameras weren’t around in 1982.
As you can imagine the girdle sighting stayed with me for quite some time. My mother tried to reassure me that it was only an undergarment, but I probably should have undergone some sort of therapy at the time. To this day I have questions about those zippers. Not to mention this went down in the freaking office!
I have certainly witnessed a large cast of characters over the years, most that left Kathy appearing almost normal. Looking back on Kathy’s character, I must say she certainly lived life with a little spice adding flavor wherever she traveled. She certainly made it easy for me to go to work every day…I never could risk missing an event.
The world can be amazing when you’re slightly strange, so be yourself and Enjoy the Ride!
Weekly Writing Challenge: 1,000 Words,Take Two Your challenge this week is to write a post based on this picture:
Last night was amazing! I don’t want this to end; I just want to hold you forever. Honestly, I’ve never done anything like this before…I swear. I know you must find that hard to believe, but it’s true. It was magical. Was it real? Maybe there was something extra in the wine or maybe it’s just the romance that seems to be oozing through the sidewalks of this damn city. Whatever it is, I know I’m not ready for it to end here on this street. I need more…
I never anticipated that a last-minute decision to take in some sites would lead me to catching your eye from across the room. I was standing in the distance, watching your expression as you absorbed the beauty in the room. I just knew I had to know the person behind those eyes. Your intensity intrigued my curiosity. I needed more…
It’s not like me to be so forward, especially with strangers, but before coming on this trip I made a promise to myself to try something very new … taking risks. I’ve spent so many years regretting my inability to capture moments just like this, I owed it to myself to take a leap of faith, face my fears and accept these unexpected chances. I needed more…
My hands were sweating, my knees were weak and my voice was shaking the closer I got to blurt out that very low-keyed “hey.” When you turned around I never expected that warm inviting smile as you responded with a very enthusiastic “Hey!” Our conversation started slow. You took your time capturing the last drop of beauty on that canvas. I couldn’t blame you; the colors that intertwined throughout the landscape were mesmerizing. As soon as your concentration broke, it was obvious that this piece of art captured your soul. I needed more…
Finally our thoughts were brought back to the present as we cordially introduced ourselves. Never in my wildest dreams did I expect to travel across an ocean to meet someone who lived just 4 towns over from my own. I’m traveling alone with no set schedule, while you are taking advantage of studying abroad this semester. Just two people on a journey to escape their limited lives, crossing paths as they head towards their next chapter. I needed more…
Since I’m new to adventures I wasn’t sure how to handle this awkward moment that left us both shifting where we stood in the museum lobby. I took a chance suggesting that we continue this conversation at the corner cafe. I just couldn’t let it end there in that cold lobby; these feelings were worth more than that uncertain goodbye. I needed more…
After what seemed like just minutes in the cafe, we noticed the sun was about to turn in for the night. Our conversation seemed so natural, like two old friends picking up right where they left off so many years before. We never noticed how quickly time had left us. My stomach began giving me a quick reminder that I’ve been ignoring it all day. It was embarrassingly loud, but provided the perfect excuse to keep this conversation going over some dinner. I needed more…
As we sat drinking wine while enjoying the delicacies of this foreign place we remained engrossed in each other’s company. Something was happening, something good. Our hands were touching across the table. Our eyes were having a conversation all of their own and our young hormones were on the brink of exploding. We finished our dessert at record speed, while trying to keep our over-anxious emotions in tact. Check please! I needed more…
Standing out in the cool air didn’t seem to have an impact on our growing anticipation. We continued to hold hands as we tried desperately to suppress the magic that was obviously embracing us like a vice. We continued to walk down the dimly lit street with no destination in mind. Before I knew what was happening, we were through the door, up the stairs and in each other’s arms exchanging our pent-up aggression. I needed more…
Whew there is no greater feeling than releasing years of doubts, fears and uncertainty in a single moment. Exhilarating doesn’t even begin to explain how alive I felt laying in your arms. Our natural bond continued when you shared your photos with me, narrating each page; giving me permission to share your personal journey. I needed more…
We stayed cuddled close under the covers as the sun slowly began to make its way through the crack in the window and my heart began to sink. The morning began to take on a sense of reality that we were dreading. Normalcy began to creep into the bubble we created for ourselves last night. It seemed indestructible just a few hours ago, now it’s taking on the look of a fine piece of china. Coffee was brewing, the shower was running and that moment was getting closer. I needed more…
We sat quietly and slowly sipped our coffee in hopes that time would somehow take the hint; pausing to give us just a few more minutes alone, but the clock continued ticking pushing us closer to that daunting goodbye. The noises from the street broke our silence. We began to gather our things at a snail’s pace, savoring these last few minutes in the bubble. I needed more…
Classes started in an hour and the University was a good 20 minutes away. The Tin Trolly ran on a limited schedule. I had no choice but to catch the earliest one possible if I wanted to make it back to my hostel before I was reported missing. We grabbed our things, headed to door and stepped into reality. I needed more…
Our detour lead us to discovering something we didn’t expect. We needed more…
Embrace the detours and Enjoy the Ride!
Your challenge this week is to practice your powers of observation. Take any person, place, or event, and write three paragraphs describing your subject in great detail.
As I sit on the oversized chair in my living room trying to relax from a long day of labor. I can’t help but be calmed by the last beam of sun breaking through the front window. The natural light bounces off a pink antique dish leaving a magnificent collaboration of colors on the floor. My big beagle Chester is laying in its bright center, no doubt enjoying the warmth it is providing. His breathing is calm, as the colors seem to dance about his body. He remains unnerved as he snores his peaceful snores in the center of a sunbeam. Life is good!
In the background of this peaceful scene President Obama is delivering his Inauguration speech to our nation. I can hear the strength in his voice as he reminds us of our duties as citizens. I can hear the passion in voice as he eloquently reminds us of the importance of compromise. I hear the hope in his voice as informs us that “peace in our time requires the constant advance of those principles that our common creed describes: tolerance and opportunity; human dignity and justice.” My heart begins to warm, my mind begins to ease and I become settled with the confidence that our future will be bright. Life is good!
The sun is about to turn in for the night. Chester begins to stir as if a warm blanket has just been removed when the last of that sunbeam makes its way back out the window. The scent of sautéed onions begins to fill the room with a sweet aroma. Onions? Dinner? Shit! Shit! Shit! I got to the pan just in time to turn off the gas flame, rescuing those caramelized beauties from a tragic demise. My pot of boiling water was now on the edge of extinction, but quickly resuscitated with a new batch of fresh water. The poor baby carrots appeared to be involved in some sort of rapid dance-off. As I lowered the heat they all seemed to collapse to the bottom of the pan surrendering to their exhaustion. They showed no signs of life until I drizzled them with honey and they began pleading to be consumed. Life is Good!
Life is full of surprises…Enjoy the Ride!
No plans, just a ride…or so I thought. We were somewhere around Quakertown, PA when we pulled into an empty church parking lot. Of course the million dollar question is “what are we doing here?” I heard the response, but I just wasn’t on the same page as…”this is the house I was telling you about, the one next to the church.” Some lightbulbs were going off, but they were dim and I was still stuck on church & home being used in the same sentence.
The house was nice, very well-groomed, empty and a good price. All good right? We turned around in the parking lot and there was nothing but CORN as far as the eye could see. My hubby asked..”so what do you think?’ I didn’t pull the guns out at first, I made some nice comments about the house, but then I had to ask “who will I talk to, there is no one here? “Me” was the response. Yea, love is one thing, 24/7 is a whole other story.
It appeared GOD was on my side, the words SALE PENDING were covering the FOR SALE portion of the sign. Well played God, well-played indeed.
We continued on with our day. I was enjoying the scenery along with the music, as I was continuously being reminded how “nice & quiet” it was around those parts. Yep, it really must be a hit for people who are into silence.
The sales pitches were coming at me like darts, but I was loosing my case bad, almost at a slaughter level. My case started off with a very weak …”that shopping area looked congested, almost dirty.” Considering I’m from Philadelphia, that doesn’t even make sense, yet it came right out of this mouth. The look was enough, no need for words to slam that insane defense. The Green Acres theme song was just pounding away in my head at this point.
One thing throughout the entire day stood out like a sore thumb, only women seemed to be cutting the lawn. I saw women on tractors, riding mowers and pushing mowers with hot pink sound proof ear phones. She was hardcore about battling those blades of grass…why?
I started the conversation about the high volume of women cutting the lawn, only to hear yet another sales pitch. “See you could be out cutting the lawn instead of being on the computer.” Really? Yea, this was the turning point, ready…aim…fire!
Me: First of all I’m allergic to everything under the sun, I can’t even pick a tomato in our garden without a suit of armor and I still seem to come inside with a tick or a rash.
The only reason those woman are cutting the lawn is to escape the madness inside those homes! If they don’t do something with their hands they will be bludgeoning someone with a frying pan.
Let me just give you a scenario of our life surrounded by corn. You’ll go to work, but now your day will be longer because we are so far from civilization. This leaves me alone with my imagination, creative abilities and CORN. So, don’t be surprised when you come home and find extra place settings for our guests The Cobs.
Of course you’ll go along with this insanity out of fear, knowing it’s only a matter of time before Pop, the disgruntled Cob shows up to wreak havoc on the silence. For the record….I don’t even like corn!
Oddly enough throughout my entire presentation Bridge Over Troubled Water was playing on the radio….it didn’t help.
Hubby: Well, it looks like we’re going to need something between the corn and the city.
We laughed most of the way back to civilization. We agreed that even though something was “moving” in our neighbor’s trash bag, it doesn’t mean we have to be exiled to the silence of corn fields for the rest of your days. Compromise is good….unless it involves bringing a “moving” trash bag to corn land to add some city spice, which yes, was suggested during the sales pitch.
Happiness is meeting in the middle while you…Enjoy the Ride!
Friday night I was beyond tired! After I convinced myself it was a result of being awake most of the night before due to excessive snoring from the husband AND the dog; not the disease I diagnosed myself with, I went to bed.
Now, I was not only in the deepest of sleep, I was starring in a very STEAMY dream. I can only assume my subconscious was taking over from all that chatter regarding the blog I posted about the young man who died during the threesome. That is where we are leaving it folks…use your imagination, you are all very bright.
Well, my 15 minutes of porn star fame ended abruptly when the phone rang. My mother is 85 and my daughter was away for the weekend, therefore I’m certain that **RING** alone took 10 years off my life, not to mention what happened next:
Brother-in-Law: Hey Leese I’m glad I got you and not my brother, I really didn’t want to deal with his attitude. I’m in prison. Can you believe I’m in prison? I went to go buy that tablet thing (iPad?), so I put some beer in an empty Gatorade bottle, because I didn’t want to waste it, (God Forbid) to ride my bike to the store and I got pulled over. Can you believe I got pulled over on a bike? I don’t know I guess the cops aren’t busy. Are you there? My brain is still stuck on the word “prison” as I headed down stairs.
Brother-in-Law: They found out I had a Warrant and locked me up. I was at the Police Station all day. Did you know I asked my brother to take me up here to take care of this Warrant and he didn’t have time? I told the cop that and do you know what he said? He told me I should have ridden my bike. Funny, I was thinking the same thing. It took like 2 hours to get here in a car and he expects me to ride a bike? Ya know what else, this Warrant is from 2003…come on..don’t these people have other stuff to do? I have to work in the morning so can you call my boss and tell him I’m in prison? Sure, lets just keep that shock factor going … just passing it on.
Brother-in-Law: This prison is in a really nice area. Driving up we went through the town and everyone was eating dinner outside and having a good time and I was going to prison. Have you ever been up here? It’s nice, you should have seen all the girls..dam. I always envisioned that whole “one phone call” thing much differently. I just always assumed there would be more fear and less chit-chat.
ME: Oh yeah it’s very nice. Can I have your boss’s phone number?
Brother-in-Law: Here it is and just let him know I’m in prison (define “prison” because I’m starting to think that’s where I’m at right about now) and I can’t come in. Hey, when is the court thing? Monday? (that was directed at the guard) Ok Leese, well I gotta go, have a good night.
As I processed what just happened, I headed back to bed. Now, I bring you part II:
ME: That was your brother, he is in Doylestown prison.
ME: You never even moved!
Husband: Ugh … I was sound asleep. Does EVERYONE realize at this very moment, it is a MIRACLE that I am NOT someone’s bitch in an orange jumpsuit writing this from the Prison Library?!
No need to get the torches out ladies, I told him all about the dream, reminded him how tired he was and went to sleep. Please do not underestimate the power of a tired, angry woman!
So, Saturday I found out that the Warrant was for a citation he received back in 2003 for sleeping in his truck. He was homeless when he was working for a contractor, so he thought it would be “ok” to park his truck and sleep at the job site. The problem was that this “job site” was in an upper echelon residential neighborhood. This neighborhood doesn’t even allow fast food restaurants to display their Golden Arches, because they’re hideous to the rich eye. So, lord knows they will frown upon someone using their vehicle as living quarters.
Needless to say, he has had his fair share of trial and tribulations. He was homeless for about 8 years, due to drug & alcohol issues but he always seemed to trudge along. As of today he has been drug free for 3 years, has his own place, a job, bank account and wheels (his bike).
Trust me, he is aware of the poor choices he has made and the damage he has done to himself physically and mentally. The regrets are deep, the struggles are daily and the amends will last the rest of his life…one day at a time.
So, until tomorrow he will remain in prison, where apparently you are allowed to use the phone all day. It is now 2:00 pm and I just hung up from the 5th call of the day, in which he informed me there is no record of a Warrant. It appears there was a “clerical error”, but he’ll have to wait to see a Judge in the morning. Deep breaths everyone…deep breaths.