Going out on a high note…

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I just need to get something off my chest. It’s been weighing on me and I think I might explode if I don’t say it out loud for the world (or two people) to hear.

I am heartily ticked off that we are getting another Jason Bourne movie. Whew! That was really keeping me up at night!

Now, I know what you’re thinking; how can you not like Jason Bourne?! I do. Love the three movies, love Matt Damon. But we were done with Bourne. We moved on. We had Aaron Cross and a whole new direction of genetically altered misfits to follow. Hello, what about LARX?! Where is that buried?! How do we blow that program wide open?! The one guy we saw from the program was practically a robot. A robot, people!

And now we’re back to Bourne. Correct me if I’m wrong, but Matt Damon was pretty clear that they had beat that storyline to death. Hence, the moving to another character in the Bourne universe. A character who had a whole lot of room to go as far as plot.

Sure, we could all say that Damon is trying to salvage a career that had a few misses recently, but that can’t be it. The Martian was amazing and completely erased the Elysium movie from my brain, at least the parts I saw before I turned off the tv in disgust. I’m assuming this return to Bourne is due to some very large amounts of money being thrown around.

I’m going to go pray to the movie gods at an altar I have assembled out of empty spam cans and Twinkie wrappers. Hopefully this new Bourne movie doesn’t unravel all the good work Damon’s done, because there’s no way I can resist watching it.


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You can also find me on Instagram @shankyouheather


It’s another fabulous week of linking! Check out my blogging buddy https://domesticatedmomster.com/category/momsterslink-2/

Now she’ll expect every wish be granted…

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Lola celebrated her 5th birthday this week! I made her a delicious puppy peanut butter cookie…and then I lit it on fire. She almost knocked me over trying to figure out why her cookie wasn’t being fed to her.

Every year I put a candle, every year she tries to eat it.

Needless to say, I didn’t get a picture because I was busy trying to keep the house from burning down. Myself and fire don’t get along, add in a Lola and the disaster we create calls for a rescue by The Rock in a helicopter. (Side note: I’m in love with the movie San Andreas and all its impossibilities.) Fortunately, Lola was able to make a wish and she made a big one. Lola wished for the Daddybeast to come home since he had been gone all year. Daddybeast is her cuddler at night, and they play video games together; Lola’s lack of thumbs is a problem but Daddybeast would never call her deadweight. Most importantly, Daddybeast makes sure I buy her toys at every opportunity.

The way this dog fawns over her Daddybeast you’d think I was a terrible person. Who made you a cookie?!

And the very next morning, Lola’s wish was granted; Daddybeast came home! When Daddybeast walked through the door and saw Lola, there was jumping and hugging and puddles of pee. Not to mention how Lola reacted to him!

I can only imagine how this wish being granted is going to go straight to Lola’s already inflated ego.


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You can also find me on Instagram @shankyouheather

 

Are you on the list…

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I’ve realized recently that I’ve got a pretty great group of friends. That’s not to say I didn’t know that before, but lately I’ve recognized that I have multiple people I could call to ask for bail money should a Taco Bell run end badly for me. (And you know it could! Read here and here if you haven’t read about my run ins with the police while trying to get some nacho cheese.)

These thoughts of friendship have spawned a new Heatherism.

A Heatherism


Check out my Facebook page at https://www.facebook.com/pages/Shank-You-Very-Much/844635398954894

I also tweet like a bird on Twitter https://twitter.com/HeatherKeet

You can also find me on Instagram @shankyouheather

 

I almost always lose this game…

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I wrote this post years ago and realized that I am almost always the loser of this game. Lola plays it so well in our new house that I sometimes panic when I can’t find her.


Lola and I have a new game to play. Since she has spent the past five years shadowing me I decided to use her love to make life more interesting. There’s only so much potty monitoring you can handle before you start closing the door on your animal.

I started by walking into a room and yelling out “bye, Lola” at the top of my lungs and then closing the door almost completely. Within seconds the little fur ball would charge through like a hippopotamus and stand at attention looking at me like I was demented.

After doing this in every room of the house I started to get creative. I turned on the light in the spare bathroom and pulled the door almost shut. Then I walked into my bedroom and did the same to the master bathroom. I walked in the master closet, kept the light off and the door shut and called out “bye, Lola” at the top of my lungs.

I hear the Lola hippo bust into the spare bathroom. I wish I could have seen her puzzled face. She races back out and checks the living room. A few seconds later Lola’s in the master bedroom and busting in the door of that bathroom. She is puzzled, and this time I can see her thanks to the crack in the door. I almost ruined the whole game by laughing.

Lola flies out of the room and starts sweeping the house looking for the Mommybeast. As she makes her way back into the bedroom she seems to realize the closet has been overlooked. She barges in to find me.

We had to halt our game here because Lola got smart and wouldn’t let me walk anywhere without being right behind me. Literally right behind me. I could feel her feet hit my legs as I walked.

I gave it a few hours and decide to play again. I set up some rogue traps designed to fool her, then I get into my bathtub, lights off, and I am lying down with the curtain closed.

Ten minutes later and I am really questioning my decision to hide in a tub. I keep calling out to Lola and she keeps checking the bathroom. She even nudged at the curtain but not enough to see that I was lying down. Finally, I got what I had coming to me. Lola bum rushed the tub and jumped, landing her full weight on top of me. Fur went flying, human ribs took a beating and a shower curtain may or may not have needed to be replaced.

But it was all worth it. A few hours later Lola got up and walked away from me in the living room for no reason. She never leaves me, especially since the Daddybeast is not home. So I wander to the back room to see if she’s camped out on the man couch.

Nope.

I go to our bedroom to see if she’s trying to determine if this is the time she makes that leap onto the bed by herself.

Nope, no Lola.

I wander for a few minutes, trying to decide what she’s up to. I’m envisioning some sort of poop revenge for the game I played- and then I find her. She’s lying on the far side of the guest bedroom, wedged between the wall and bed frame.  She’s in a little ball, next to the brown curtains and almost completely unnoticeable. Lola bounces with glee and runs away from me snorting.

Too Close Lola

There’s a possibility that my dog is too smart and will eventually take over the world.


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I also tweet like a bird on Twitter https://twitter.com/HeatherKeet

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All starving artists welcome here…

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I thought buying a house with a seven car driveway was a boon. It was not.

I spent six hours power washing my driveway, only to realize that I had another 12 hours of work to get it all the same color. My mistake began in thinking that my driveway was a dark gray cement…it is actually white. Had I known my driveway was white, I could have avoided the hassle and realized I needed to pay someone to clean this beast.

Or maybe just sold the house and advertised the beautiful grey cement as a feature.

But I decided that after six hours of labor and some white cement later, I’m committed to this task. My OCD tendencies will not allow this monstrosity of multiple colors to remain. I HAVE to make it all the same color!

12 hours of labor and three days later…

The cement is still multicolored. My back is on fire from leaning over and my forearms feel worse than the time I tried to mow the jungle before giving up. 11 squares of cement on my driveway, each square is a different color. My OCD is slowly driving me insane and covering the worst of the squares with my cars looks crazy because they are parked all wonky. I even called for a few quotes from professionals to come and finish the job.

Those professionals charge a fortune because they know by the time you are calling them you’ve realized you’ll die trying to finish the job yourself. I mean, this job is so intense I think I even see new muscles in my forearms- and I don’t like them.

I’m now debating hiring an artist to come in and paint a mural on my driveway. Someone willing to work for cake or cookies.


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I also tweet like a bird on Twitter https://twitter.com/HeatherKeet

You can also find me on Instagram @shankyouheather

 

Summer is here…again…

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I’d like to clarify that it’s not all of summer that I hate. I loathe the heat. I despise sweating, hence my avoidance of all manual labor outside of a building with air conditioning. There is nothing worse to me than sweating in the hot, hot summer weather.

I frankly don’t know how people like this season. My personal theory is that summer lovers are hedging their bets on being sent to hell; they figure they will build up their heat tolerance and convince themselves that summer sweating is awesome.

Do you honestly think there’s no air conditioning up in that palace in the sky?!

I remember visiting Florida multiple times growing up. Every day during summer vacation I would have to take a nap just to avoid being sick and grumpy for the entire vacation. Do you know how ridiculous it is to be 16 years old and have your dad make you take a nap in the RV air conditioning while your mom and brothers are still riding the rides at Disney?!?!? Do you know how that felt?! 

I MISSED OUT ON MICKEY MOUSE SHAPED CHURROS!!!!

And let’s not even get me started on the more than 12 visits to New Jersey during summer, always summer because my parents wanted to test me and my violent resistance to anything hot. These visits always resulted in me being sent to bed during daylight hours because I had completely melted down in the heat and decided to lay waste to the people of earth with my vengeance.

The people of Earth had that shit coming for not keeping me in air conditioning!

I loved visiting the Southwest. Arizona and Nevada were my favorite places to vacation. Sure, it’s hot. Hotter than the bowels of hell, actually. But there is no sweating. None. I even took a walk at midday and didn’t sweat. I did get completely dehydrated resulting in my being sent to bed early. But at least I didn’t sweat.

The people of Earth were safe. 

And then I log into Facebook and see a recent transplant to Texas post a picture of the hell she is currently experiencing.

Texas Heat

And of course I had to respond with my sympathies.

“I’m sorry, I think I just had an aneurysm resulting in an inability to see correctly. Is that 102 or are you just dipping your car in a hot cup of coffee to get out of work today?!?!?”


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The night of many thoughts…

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The other night I was viciously prevented from getting any sleep. I was in bed at midnight, sitting with my eyes wide open. My body was on fire and I knew I wouldn’t last the night. (In hindsight, I realize this was dramatic.) So what is a girl to do when she feels death is coming for her? Commemorate the ordeal through social media!

And thus, the night of many status updates began.

It is 4:40 AM. Since midnight I have taken the maximum daily dosage of three types of heartburn medication. Not only is the heartburn not gone, I’m pretty sure the life force behind the burn is more pissed off than it was before the meds. According to Web M.D., not only am I probably having a heart attack but it is most likely that I’ve already passed away and my conscience is trying to convince me I’m still alive. Nothing like an online doctor to make you feel better! Stupid internet.

Only two more hours before I can call the appointment line to see my doctor. I’m pretty sure it’s time for us to acknowledge this is not your standard heartburn, this could be something like acid reflux. And that “do not take for more than two weeks” warning on the label… I laugh in the face of that warning!

Damn, I just looked over at the window in my bedroom and through the curtains I can see the outline of the trees. Apparently the sun is already rising and I haven’t even made it to sleep yet! And you know what one of the biggest triggers is of heartburn?!?! Lack of sleep! I don’t know how they expect you to sleep when your chest is burning like lava is flowing through it!

I’m going to need my mom to retire from her job and become my own personal nurse. While I can’t pay you a salary in actual dollars, I do have Lola kisses that are in impossible to quantify. Mom, I’ll put together a job description and I promise it will not include vegetables!

The tree shapes outside of my bedroom window are mocking me. Do dogs get heartburn? I feel like Lola has some sympathy heartburn because she hasn’t been sleeping tonight either. (I guess she could have just been disturbed by all my suffering since I kept wiggling around and using the talk to type feature. Hey dog, my chest is burning up, I’m going to talk to type if I want to!)

I wonder if my doctor will give me a prescription for that medicine that they gave me in the hospital that one time…It was this magical elixir that when I drank, it numbed everything from my lips to my stomach. I’m betting they’re going to say I can’t have a prescription for that because they know I’ll drink it every chance I get. It made me feel like an all-powerful wizard, dare I say a Lord Voldemort?! (This is where my friends realized the sleep deprivation was setting in, Harry Potter references.)

They’ll probably say that the medicine is too dangerous in my hands because I’ll wind up drinking it and jumping off a building because I think it will cure everything! Which it totally does.

Damn the man for holding me down.

I’m going to copy and paste all of these comments into a blog post. If only Jason would’ve bought me that MacBook I asked for, I wouldn’t have to blow up my Facebook feed trying to put all my thoughts down before the burning inside of my chest destroys my brain as well. (Look at that follow through! I am a fucking champion!)

It is now 4:56 AM. The burning started at 11:14 PM. That is 5 hours and 40 minutes of suffering.

340 minutes of pain.

20,400 seconds of pure fire raging through my soul.

(It was at this point my friend recommended peppermint.) I tried peppermint the last time I had heartburn, it backfired so badly I had to go to the hospital so they could give me the magical elixir that numbed everything. And then they told me to never, ever do that again. I’m currently guzzling water to “neutralize” the acid. I laughed as I typed that, nothing is going to neutralize this fire!

I thought I had to burp…it was dangerously close to not being a burp. Now I’m scared on a whole new level, vomit is my nemesis. And I’m pretty sure that will just make the heartburn worse. Though I guess if we refer back to Web M.D., I’m already dead from that aortic explosion they claim I am experiencing because heartburn is too mundane for them to diagnose!

Lola decided if she’s not going to be able to sleep in peace that she’d like her breakfast early. I don’t think so pork, even with heartburn I know that’s a bad idea! Then lunch will have to come early and then dinner will have to come early and then it will be bedtime and your belly will be completely empty and you’ll retaliate by pooping on my head while I sleep. (She’s very devious when hungry.)

I wonder if I can take ZQuil with all these heartburn medicines. I would ask Web M.D., but I’m dead and it will basically let me do whatever I want now.

I feel something lodged in my throat…it is regret. I’m breaking up with Italian sausage!

I have the fan on high in my bedroom…As if that will help heartburn.

I feel like this heartburn is retaliation for the missing organ. It’s not my fault! The appendix no longer wanted to live with the rest of you body parts!!!

(And this is the moment where the crazies, aka my friends, came out of the woodwork. One swore my gallbladder was failing, another worried over heart attack and a third questioned pregnancy. Now, normally I wouldn’t worry but many of my friends and family are in healthcare and I was a tad bit nervous over their theories of the burning. Especially that last one; it scared me so bad I had to stop monologuing just to respond.) I am not pregnant. But that was the scariest thing someone has said about this heartburn. I’d prefer the heart attack one friend was sure I was having!

I ended the ordeal with a final post because I had finally been awake for so long that the doctor’s office opened for the day-

Well, I called the doctor. Everybody told me I have to call the doctor. And you fuckers are now on my shank list! I couldn’t get an appointment this week so I have to wait until next week. But that’s not the bad part. She gave me a list of foods I can’t eat for the next week… I lost bacon. Bacon! Why the fuck do I want to live if I can’t eat my beloved bacon! And as if that wasn’t bad enough, guess who can’t eat spam or marinara sauce?! Me! No pizza, no Italian sausage, no Mexican food. I guess I’m just going to eat buttered noodles for the next week?! And no soda. No orange juice. Just water. Water. Water. I’m rethinking how bad that heartburn was last night and if I just want to ignore the doctor. But considering I was awake until after 7 AM, I really need to listen to the doctor.

So now you know, I’m still alive. I made it through the night. Click below to follow me on social media, you never know when you’ll get another play-by-play of a near death experience.


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I’m in very big trouble…

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I made a terrible, horrible, rookie mistake last night. It was awful. I’d like to preface this confession by saying that I’ve done this before and I know I’m supposed to do better…but I couldn’t help myself.

I went online and watched installation videos on The Container Store website. Specifically, I watched the videos for their custom closet shelving.

Why? Why? WHY?!?!?! I know better!

Now I’m sitting here like a cocaine addict trying to resist the urge to get in my car, drive to the nearest location, and rack up a credit card until every inch of my new home is organized perfectly.

And professionally installed since I’m banned from using power tools when there’s no one present to call 911.

Everyone who knows me knows that I will probably lose this fight. Frankly, it would be easier for me to walk away from a Twinkie than to resist having shelving systems installed. But that’s not the worst part! The worst part is still to come.

The Hubster is not home. He’s been gone forever already, I can’t remember what he looks like or sounds like. Normally, I can hear him pleading inside my head to listen to reason and walk away from the storage bins…but he’s not in there anymore. I don’t think he’ll make it home in time to stop me.

Someone bring me some bacon to distract me and if it doesn’t work, duct tape me to the floor.

*I’m doing a free giveaway of some cool stuff from my blog. Friend or follow me on one of my forms of social media and I’ll be in touch. If you already follow me on social media, share one of my posts and tag me in it so I know you’ve done it!


Check out my Facebook page at https://www.facebook.com/pages/Shank-You-Very-Much/844635398954894

I also tweet like a bird on Twitter https://twitter.com/HeatherKeet

You can also find me on Instagram @shankyouheather

 

A bulldog named Lola…

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FADE IN:

EXT. HOME SWEET HOME- NIGHT (2016)

A cold, late spring night. LOLA, an adorably chubby English Bulldog who enjoys a good caper, is sitting at the back door of the home. MOMMYBEAST, the put upon owner of Lola who indulges every whim the baby Bulldog desires (unless it will lead to disfigurement or death), stands at the door. Mommybeast is impatient. 

LOLA

Mom, I have to go pee.

MOMMYBEAST

Go potty now, that way we can go to bed afterwards.

LOLA

Okay, but it’s cold out there so hold the door for me. I don’t want to get stuck out there like last time.

MOMMYBEAST

You mean that one time I left you out there for 15 seconds while I turned on a light switch?

LOLA

Yes, that time. It was life altering and I’m still in therapy for it. I mean, I would be if you would take me to therapy instead of laughing at my request.

(Lola proceeds outside. Lola walks around the yard, trying to find that special spot.)

Mom, I can’t find my spot. You need to mow this grass. I can’t believe these are the conditions you leave me in.

MOMMYBEAST

Just go to the bathroom. I’m ready for bed.

LOLA

(walks around muttering to herself)

That woman never appreciates my requests. I should really seek new lodgings with people who will cherish my fluffiness.

MOMMYBEAST

Lola, come inside already! Lola! Lola? Hello, why are you just standing there?

(Lola, standing completely still looking at Mommybeast)

Lola, what are you doing?!

(Mommybeast, walking over to investigate the frozen Lola)

Lola, why are you just staring at me? Come on, let’s go!

(Lola falls over stiff as a board)

MOMMYBEAST

Dear god!!! What is the matter?!?!?!

LOLA

(holds front paw straight out in horror)

There is a poop on my paw. I stepped in a poop.

MOMMYBEAST

There’s no poop on your paw. There’s nothing. Come on, let’s go inside.

LOLA

There’s a POOP on my PAW! Get it off!

MOMMYBEAST

There is NO poop on your paw. Now get up and let’s go inside!

LOLA

(still holding front paw straight out in horror)

I’m dead. I’m just dead. I can no longer continue on. Goodbye.

MOMMYBEAST

(lifts a large Lola and carries her into the house)

The neighbors are going to have me committed one day. I can’t believe I am carrying a bulldog into the house because she thinks she stepped on a mythological poop. It was a fucking pine cone, but god knows once she thinks it’s a poop then it must be a poop. Nope, Mommybeast is an idiot who doesn’t know anything.

NAMELESS NEIGHBOR

(peeks out window)

Honey, I think our new neighbor is crazy. She’s talking to herself while carrying a dog around at 1 in the morning.

FADE OUT.

THE END


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I also tweet like a bird on Twitter https://twitter.com/HeatherKeet

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Mother F#%^er!!!!!!

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^Those are my brains splattered all over the screen of my iMac^

If you’ve been following my saga of migraines you know I have to avoid aged cheese until I go to the doctor to get some medication to prevent migraines instead of waiting for them to blind side me. Literally.

You know this, I know this, God knows this, I even wrote an Ode to Bleu Cheese since I miss it so much.

Then why, WHY, for the LOVE OF GOD, did I do it again???

Because I didn’t know the aged cheese was hanging out in my pesto sauce I had for lunch. I thought goat’s cheese was the only cheese gracing my pesto and with how cheap it was who would have thought they used good, aged cheese.

So what was in the pesto you ask???

Parmesan. Those sneaky little bastards.

Damn Italy, their stupid sauce and their stupid cheeses.

My head is falling off my body again and I have 19 hours until I see the doctor.

I miss you cheese, my dear aged cheese that needs me to eat it. I promise you I will get medicine tomorrow.

And then I’m taking my revenge on you in bulk, thanks to Costco.

Aged Cheese

I’m not going to shank you, that would be too kind. I’m going to eat you and your whole family!


Check out my Facebook page at https://www.facebook.com/pages/Shank-You-Very-Much/844635398954894

I also tweet like a bird on Twitter https://twitter.com/HeatherKeet

You can also find me on Instagram @shankyouheather

 

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