Archive for October 16th, 2007

Day 16: Suck my kiss and tummy rubs

So it’s Day 16 and I almost didn’t hit the gym being that I had work and errands to run. By the time I got there it was nearly 11 p.m. — which assured me I would be the only one there.  I climbed up on the balcony to reach the stereo planted up high in the wall (don’t know why they feel like only short people steal) and I placed my Blood Sugar Sex Magik into the player. Then after a little stretching, I got on the machine of hell PRECOR elliptical monster and got pumping. I picked the hardest level of course because as you know from Day 15, I was overcompensating. By the time I’m at the highest hill, Anthony Kiedis is screaming “suck my kiss!” and I’m clasping my hands as if to pray  (something I rarely do anyway) because damn this is starting to hurt.

Then some guy walks in — right at the crescendo of Flea’s guitar. Because I’m a polite gym bitch, and my being nice may shock you, I tell the guy he can turn it off. He insists I was there first so it was up to me. Of course I tell him it’s OK even though the only thing keeping me on that friggin’ machine was that CD — well that and the fact that I saw my back this morning and realized I don’t need that much spine coverage. The redeeming part of this tale is the guy was at least decent looking. He decided to search out a show on the television but I don’t think I heard him ask me what I would prefer to watch. I figured since I was so damn nice, if he landed on something I hated, I would tell him. He decided on Dirty Jobs, which pleased me.

So the guy gets to stretching and I see he is taking off his cap and I realize the view is looking better. Then once on the rowing machine he takes off his shirt and gets going. Yes, my last five hills were a bit more pleasant somehow even though I was trying not to look — which I managed to accomplish because my hair kept getting in my face and you would never know the corner of my eye was gawking a tad bit. Then an older guy walks in and the two of them seem to know each other. This one is in shorts and pretty fit for whatever age I  figure he was and I became intimidated by his speed on the treadmill. By that time I was really ready to go — too much testosterone.

When I got into the apartment, I finished up on my crunches. Tiger Lily decided to find her way to my stomach to hang out. Maybe to help because she kept kneading my tummy. As if she could push my gut down. But I think even Lily knew that was a tough feat and slowly she walked away to the window instead. Yet another mixed emotion countdown day, but I feel the progress coming on. I’m going to have to really give it everything because alas, Thursday is one last day at the State Fair.

Sometimes you just have to say “f**k”

Ah, LOL kitty. I know.

OK. We have all been that lady in Scranton . Yet another thing goes wrong in your humble abode, someone makes you angry, you burned dinner — whatever.  As you know, I willingly admit to cussing like a sailor when I’m not particularly pleased but I can’t imagine getting a citation for it! Sucks to be you when your neighbor is a cop. Here is the story from the Associated Press.

SCRANTON, Pa. – Talk about a potty mouth.

A Scranton woman who allegedly shouted profanities at her overflowing toilet within earshot of a neighbor was cited for disorderly conduct, authorities said.

Dawn Herb could face up to 90 days in jail and a fine of up to $300.

“It doesn’t make any sense. I was in my house. It’s not like I was outside or drunk,” Herb told The Times-Tribune of Scranton. “The toilet was overflowing and leaking down into the kitchen and I was yelling (for my daughter) to get the mop.”

Herb doesn’t recall exactly what she said, but she admitted letting more than a few choice words fly near an open bathroom window Thursday night.

Her next-door neighbor, a city police officer who was off-duty at the time, asked her to keep it down, police said. When she continued, the officer called police.

Mary Catherine Roper, an attorney with the American Civil Liberties Union in Philadelphia, took issue with the citation.

“You can’t prosecute somebody for swearing at a cop or a toilet,” she said.

Give me a f-ing break. It’s your toilet. And it’s over-flowing. And I imagine when that happens after real business hours that is more than just a little bit of an inconvenience. Sometimes you just have to say fuck! Or whatever explicative gives you pleasure. It’s better than violence. No one gets hurt. When you release it into the heavens, you become calmer. You get a warm fuzzy inside knowing that you are in touch with your anger without punching the nearest person to the toilet. Where’s the harm?

I think instead of the cop being the prick that he was, he should have helped her with the damn toilet. That is what is missing from this story —  the fact that there are no gentlemen left. I say that only slightly tongue in cheek seeing how many of you regulars are REAL men I’m sure. Care to weigh in, gentlemen?