Forecast: Partly Sucky with Intermittent Periods of Eff This


It was going to be a whole new day.   Fresh start.


Before I opened my eyes, I could feel the prickly, virulent beginnings of a cold sore.


The groceries that fit in the cart while I was shopping didn’t after they were bagged. I had to steer a dangerously overloaded cart through a rutted parking lot, with 5 bags of groceries cutting through my forearms.  All the while squelching extremely uncharitable thoughts about the 2 year old who yelled “Go faster!”.


The digital cable box was frozen.  We only got one channel.  All day.  It was a travel channel, that runs the same 3 hours of insipid programming (with bonus 80’s Moog synthesizer background music!) on a loop.


Knock myself out, really cooked, instead of reheated.  Put the kids to bed.  “What’s that smell?” inquires the girl, as I gently brush her hair off her head.  “Your finger smells like supper.  Supper was BAD!”


A collection agency thinks I’m lying, that my name really IS Gerald, and that I’m just a really bad liar.  And they’ve got all the time in the world.


Fine, you fucking week, be that way.



(Image is an Evil Eye-filled tree (Cappadocia) by Frances Billano)


16 responses to “Forecast: Partly Sucky with Intermittent Periods of Eff This

  1. Moog synthesizer on a loop? Isn’t that what they use to torture teenagers and war criminals?

  2. laughing at “your finger smells like supper” hehehe

  3. um, if it helps, the photo for this post is neat.

  4. For some reason, I can’t imagine you sound like a “Gerald.”

    And your finger really smelled like supper?

  5. Oh, I love messing with telemarketers! My favourite is to answer the phone, and then belch in reply to any queries. Or moo. Or let the kids have the phone and see what nonsense they spit into it. “Yes, you can swear. But only when it’s these people.”

  6. “Supper was BAD!”

    Fucking classic. Telemarketers can’t beat door-to-door religious fanatics, though, for my money… but hey, it’s only Tuesday.

    [ding dong]

  7. I love the picture. Hopefully you can get some of those to hang outside your house because that is some bad luck. Isn’t it amazing that gropeceries multiply when they are scanned and bagged?

  8. I’m not EVEN going to ask what you ‘went all out’ on cooking for supper. *shudder*

  9. nursemyra: I think I remember now why the 80’s set my teeth on edge. Of course, I was an angsty pre-teen, so that may have played a role.

    vinomom: I thought I showed reatraint by not telling her she was LUCKY it smelled like supper.

    Stephanie: Thanks. I promise to stop bumming everyone out. Maybe.

    Southern (in)Sanity: The phone is registered under my name. Which also starts with a G. And I do have kind of a low voice. So I can see why they’re suspicious…

    Em: I’ll just forward my phone to yours. Don’t be surprised.

    Ryan: I used to be a lot more comfortable brushing off the JWs or the Mormons. But then, one time, the woman I told to get lost in the AM was lined up behind me at Safeway in the PM. So yes, I agree, they trump the shit out of telemarketers.

    faemom: I didn’t want to go off on the grocery store chick, but she couldn’t pack groceries for shit. Seriously, one of the bags had dishwasher detergent, eggs, lettuce and 2 cans of beans packed together. so no doubt, it didn’t all fit.

    derfina: Shit stew with a side of bile. Why?

  10. Ginny,

    Well, maybe you should try what I heard on a radio show once.

    Get someone to answer the phone. That person pretends to be an investigator looking into “Gerald’s” murder – and they interrogate the caller like crazy for how they knew “Gerald,” why they were calling, etc. When they say they are collections, the person says, “Oh, so ‘Gerald’ owed you money? Sounds like a possible motive.”

  11. “Your finger smells like supper.”

    “She’s lucky it smelled like SUPPER.”

    You get the big fat award for funniest blogger with fewest words. And yes, the picture was soopa cool.

  12. Hope things get better for you, Gerald.

  13. Southern (in)Sanity: That’s brilliant. And hillarious.

    formerlyfun: Awww, thanks so much!

    cdv: Shhh, the internet has ears, I think I’m finally convincing them, don’t fuck this up for me!

  14. Ha, how rad would that be! If I can be “Ruby Gerschwitzes, director of the local high school newspaper” for a friend wanting a job reference for Rogers Video, I can sure as hell be a smooth talking Gerald. “I have buried the money for you. To the islands!” Mahahaha.

  15. Ginny, I once posted about how I managed to get a telemarker off the phone. See, I got home from work and Griffen’s ass expolded in the bedroom. TM called as I was cleaning it up, and I said “Well, it’s not such a good time. See, my dog had explosive diaherria, and I have to clean it up. I am elbow deep in dog poo…”

    The telemarketer laughed at me and hung up on me.

  16. Em: If I ever re-enter the workforce, expect to get a call to re-activate Ruby.

    Beej: I’m going to use it, but I’m not going to specify dog poo. Leave something to their imagination – maybe instead of laughing, they’ll be so disturbed, they’ll put me on their do not call list. (You know, the secret one? That actually works?)

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