Monthly Archives: January 2009

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W. Itty Tells a Story From Her Youth…

January 27, 2009 – 12:16 pm

Back when I first got my license (1996… I am old… Just call me grandma…) we only had to wait one month after getting our permit.  ONE MONTH!  Thirty measly little days and we were free to take the BIG test to see if we could handle the roads on our own.  I waited exactly thirty days, not one day more, before I headed to that little concrete building to take my driving test, all the while praying that I didn’t get the fabled teacher who was old and mean and blind in one eye because of some kid who wrecked into her BEFORE he got his license…  (Not even kidding… We were always told about this wretched old lady who would fail us with one look from her one good eye…)  My mom and I pulled up to the building and she got out and left me alone to wait for my teacher.  It was an old lady.  With a scowl etched into her face.  But she wasn’t wearing a patch on her so I breathed a sigh of relief.  Score one for little Itty…

She slid into the passenger seat and off we went.  I passed with flying colors.  My only mistake was not putting the parking brake on after I parallel parked.  (Uh.. Hello!  Completely flat road!  Why on earth would I need my parking brake?!)  Anyways, all of this is NOT the point of my story.  (Yeah.  I’m a rambler.  What of it?)

Six months later I was cruising freely thinking I OWNED this driving nonsense.  Parallel parking?  No problemo, compadre.  Oh you want me to pick up some other unforunate unlicensed soul for a ride to school?  Gladly.  These curvy country roads I take every day on my way to and from school?  Pshaw.  Under control. 

That is until that one fateful morning where I thought I’d be a badass and pass this old rickety truck with my sleek little Mazda 929…  Oh wait.. Forgot to mention that this was in January and there were excessive amounts of black ice covering the roads.  So, you can guess where this is going… I passed the truck with ease and then promptly hit black ice, slid across the road, overcorrected went BACK across the road, bounced off a tree and threw my car into a pond.  (What?  You’re telling me you didn’t know exactly where this story was going?)  So, let’s re-evaluate… Here I am, sixteen years old, car windows completely busted out on one side, half of my car (MY HALF) is sinking in freezing cold water, and I have Snoop’s “Doggystyle” album effing BLARING from my cd player… I even remember the song that was playing as I climbed out of the other side.  “Pump, Pump…”  No, you shut up.

I manage to get myself out of the pond and back up onto the road when I decided that I need to tuck my long, blonde hair behind my ear and get myself together.  It’s cool, I’m fine… OMG WHY IS MY HAND COVERED IN BLOOD?!  WHY IS MY SHIRT COVERED IN BLOOD?!  WHY DOES MY EARLOBE FEEL LIKE IT’S KIND OF FLAPPING OR SOMETHING?!  Oh.  Simple.  Those busted windows?  Yeah, they were made of glass.  Glass that was broken out by a very sharp tree branch which also decided to almost completely lop my left ear off.  Awesome.

A few minutes later, as I’m laying on the side of the road convinced that my brain is more than likely falling out of my skull, this truck driver passes me and pulls over to see if I need help.  Me?  Need help?  What gave you that impression?  Could it be my car that’s behind me slowly sinking into that pond?  Or maybe it’s my shirt soaked in blood?  Whichever reason tipped you off, YES I NEED HELP.

(Sidenote:  This helpful citizen also happened to be the slow poke I passed going sixty on icy roads.  Who’s got two thumbs and is an asshole??  THIS GIRL!)

My aunt, who lived next door to me, was on her way taking her daughter to school when she passed the pond with my pitiful car in it.  I, on the other hand, was up at some house trying to notify my mom that I had maybe just cut my ear off.  Add these two together and you have my aunt who thinks that I’ve wrecked my car, passed out and drowned in a pond…  So, I come back to wait by my car and I see my aunt, in the middle of the pond, crying her eyes out and screaming my name repeatedly…  Dude, what are you doing?  I’m right here.  I’ve only got one ear (total exaggeration of a dramatic sixteen year old), but I’m right here. 

She pulls herself together and gets me home where I’m met by my mom AND grandparents.  I got taken to the hospital where I sat around and waited to be called back.  I had to answer a bunch of questions that my sixteen year old mind couldn’t wrap my brain around.  Why?  Because they were so stupid, that’s why.

Are you seriously injured?  I dunno, lady.  I’m holding a washcloth to my head where blood just happens to be gushing out.  I actually just thought I’d take the day off for a field trip to the ER.

Was there alcohol involved in the accident?  It’s 8am, I’m sixteen and I was on my way to school.  If I was boozing it up before noon on a school day I’m going to go ahead and say I have bigger problems than just my wonk ear at the moment.

Are you having trouble breathing?   Nope, but  I am getting a little dizzy from the blood loss…

Doc finally comes and takes me back… I get a grand total of 23 stitches in my head.  I did not by any means chop my entire ear off, nor was I deaf in one ear which were the rumors that were going around school when I got back a few days later.  My little Mazda was totaled, but, dude, I completely salvaged that Snoop cd…

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About us Couldn't Make This Up Seriously Funny The Haps

Musin makes it to Barack’s Inauguration

January 22, 2009 – 4:18 pm

HUGE day for the world! Big for America yes, but the impact this man has surely transcends globally. I am beyond excited to be able to say that “I was there” for Barack’s Big Day.

I’ll spare you all the details of the gruesome commute. Just know this; never get on a bus filled with MP3 blasting teenagers at 2am going from NY to DC on Barack Obama’s Inauguration day. Got it? Good.

(*fast forwards to the good part.)

… and I had to take a wicked leak! Too bad everywhere was closed — aside from the nearby homeless shelter. Am I homeless? No. Will I use their facilities to relieve my bladder, yes! So I wait in line while my sister waits outside for my return.

I must let you all know that with the ice cold temperatures I HAD to resort to desperate measures. By this I mean I took 4 sheets of bounty and stuffed each of my sneakers as a form of insulation. You would be surprised at how pleased I was with the results. So with my hot hands (great product) and stuffed shoes I rejoined the trek, but where was everyone else? Uhh, gone!

At this point it’s just me myself and I amidst the millions of civilians vying for prime positioning to enter the event. Phones weren’t working well and I had no ticket so at this point I was just being completely non-productive, losing. While wandering I stumbled upon a LARGE CROWD of folks in what was supposed to be a line. A line to what? Who knows, I wasn’t in a rush so eff it. I joined said line and threw on the headphones and churned out some optimism from out of nowhere. I then feel this sea of people begin to move towards what seems to be an entrance to the National Mall.

An official then took the megaphone and announced (in the most angelic voice), “Only Purple ticket holders are being admitted through this gate, ONLY PURPLE TICKET holders, you will be turned back without a purple ticket.” Shit, didn’t matter to me, I had NO ticket so I had nothing to lose anyways. I roughed it out in line while being subjected to inadvertent verbal abuse. Comments like, “We all have purple tickets, let us in! What dumb ass would stand in this long ling without a ticket?!”

:/…*Raises hand. Dumb ass present.

At this point I was WAY too close to throw in the towel. So I bundled up and tossed all my hopes in a bucket. This bucket carried me to the front of the line to meet a squadron of officers. Shit! It was at this point I ducked a little and cut to the middle of the crowd amongst the mass of people fervently waiving their purple tickets in the air to gain admission. I acted as if I was freezing and kept my hands together and stayed low only to make it though the ticket check, I was free! Everyone else in front of me jumped for joy when they gained access so eff it, I faked the funk and did the same. Hands in the air, jumping and all…this in efforts of getting away from the cops as FAST as possible. After getting inside I stumbled upon stranded purple ticket and pocketed it just in case. Talk about fake it ‘til you make it. That’s how it all happened, and the rest, was history (major pun).

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Image Courtesy of Steven Clarke

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Abso Ridic Random

In Which I Tell You That I Apparently Look Like a Criminal.

January 14, 2009 – 1:46 pm

I live in a tiny town.  Like the kind of town you see on television… Everyone knows everyone, I can more than likely get out of a ticket because I’ll know the cop, you know, Mayberry type town.  Except more redneck.  And most of the time I don’t actually claim to be from this town, but whatever.  Bygones.

This past weekend I was headed home and cutting through the neighborhood to get to my street and my little dog, Russell was in the car with me.  (Russell is a Brussels Griffon.  Yes, I named him Russell the Brussel.  Yes, I was more than likely dropped on my head as an infant.)  Except… I can’t get to my street.  The street is blocked off by about a dozen cop cars.  AND there are police running up and down the street with flashlights. 

I pull up to the first cop who is waving madly for me to turn around and I’m like, “Uh… dude, I live over on Allison.  I need to get through.”  He tells me that I’ll have to use the other entrance and then goes back to his waving.  I’m not satisfied with the amount of info I received so I clear my throat and ask him if there’s anything I need to be concerned about.  His answer?  Not anymore.

Uh….

I’m sorry but you have members of your police force running up and down a street which just happens to be blocked off with probably more than half of my town’s police department.  Oh but it’s all good?  Awesome.

I head up to the other end of the entrance where I’m met by yet another cop who is, once again, waving at me to turn my car around.  I go through my spiel again and I tell him that the other cop told me to come this way.  He gives me the once over and says, “Well, I’m gonna have to see some ID proving that you live on Allison.”

Oh my bad.  I forgot I had my trusty black and white striped burglar uniform on.  Oh and my dog?  The little tiny one who’s sitting in my lap?  Yeah, he’s my vicious guard dog.  Oh and not to mention that apparently the crime is still IN PROGRESS since you’ve got your guys scouring the street and I just pulled up.  So, you know, go right ahead and interrogate me when you could be oh… I dunno… out looking for the REAL GUY.  After he had given me the ok to go to my house he gave me these instructions, “Once you get to your house, go inside, lock your doors and do not come outside for any reason.”

Are these the words describing an area that is now safe for me to venture through like I was told?  I do not believe so.

Once he told me that, I replied that no way was I staying in my house and that I just needed to get some stuff.  He told me to come back through this entrance to MAKE SURE I GOT OUT.

Make sure I got out?!  Maybe you shouldn’t give me the ok to go IN if you’re not sure I”m gonna make it OUT, Mr. Officer!  Whatever.  Me being the smarty that I am, went in, grabbed some things and headed back out, giving him a friendly wave as I left.  Thanks, pal.  Thanks for allowing me to walk into the possible line of fire.

Oh and the reason for all the chaos?  There was a walk-by shooting.  Yeah, you read it right.  This guy didn’t drive by and shoot someone, he walked past their car and did it.  Clearly a criminal mastermind!

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About us Couldn't Make This Up Random

Happy Anniversary!

January 5, 2009 – 2:33 pm

…as of last December (21st to be exact). It has been an excellent run, and we will continue to push forward. I was looking back (*cue violins please Clev) at old posts from the first month (*learns Clev is an awful violinist) when we used to reel off new material DAILY (*takes tissue to wipe tear from Itty) . The first thing that came to mind was, what the HELL did we do aside from blog!? I don’t remember, but it couldn’t have been that much else. In any event, this serves as an official thank you to all the folks from the mainland to across the seas who took time to read our stuff, Cheers! Long Live AH!

In other news: It was a very rough 4th quarter, leaving me with little to no free time for the better things in life; i.e. AbsoHilare.com. Lucky for me, it seems as if things have calmed down, thus freeing up more space in my mind to think of random things hilare in nature. 

Not many chuckles over here today, very drab Monday in the office…WAIT! I take that back, I did see some some wild shit on my way in this morning, nothing big though. 

I’m on the 7 train, and it is packed (as always) and everyone is basically throwing themself into the person infront of them to try to get to work on time. It’s always disasterous. So after the door closes I find myself entirely too close to this other person on the train, wearing the most festive hat. In wondering who designed this awful piece, i take a closer look. It is then and there i became very confused. In a dream world I would have tapped this man on his shoulder and said, “Sir, it isn’t that cold this morning, nor will it EVER be cold enough for you to leave your house, as the grown man you are, wearing a Baby Phat hat, jackass.” I just couldn’t believe it, this grown effin man wearing Baby Phat to work, it is for WOMEN! Assclown. 

Also, (blatantly continuing my rant for no reason) it has been quite some time since I forgot my cell phone at home. Today I learned the hard way that it just is not the way to go. I mean, I am doing pretty well without it, I think. My main problem is the fact that I continually make myself look like an arse. How? Oh, easy. When you are walking around the office and you (continually) slap your hip in hopes of retrieving your phone from it’s case, only for your hand to meet with the leather of your belt time and time again. It only makes it worse. Just be good to yourself and don’t forget your phone. Thanks. 

Happy New Year? Yes!

Happy AH Day?! hmm, any takers? 

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