Where did she put her cash

Carolyn and I went out for a meal and popped into Value Village thrift store afterwards, I like to get my books there, although Carolyn always seems to get a lot of stuff for our grand-daughter Jade.  Although saying that, the red silk Oriental style homemade dress and the two Barbie dolls, grandpa picked out!

But I digress.

Waiting in line a woman pushed a cart full of items up to an empty register and started looking for her money. She checked her purse to no avail, she then started checking her jacket pocket and talking to herself oblivious to her surroundings.

“Check your pocket sweetie, my jeans,” she jammed her hands into her tight jean pockets, “slow down honey, check my butt,” with that she slid her hands into her back pockets and still came up empty, “Maybe in my titties,” she says then gropes herself through her blouse. Unhappy with the results she pushes a hand inside her blouse and has a good root around. Finding no money, she tuts then walks out the store and leaves the cart where it was. She never came back in again and as she walked out I’m thinking:

The women certainly have more places to stash stuff, no wonder they always have trouble finding it again.

I know the wife likes to stash her Blackberry in her bra, if it’s on vibrate she gets a lot more text messages from her hubby than usual!

They’re talking a foreign language I tell ya

Grand daughter Jade, her grandma Janice and grandma Carolyn are all messing around with something called Super Poke Pets on their computers.

“Grandma, do you have the tiger sitting on a cloud?”

“I have several and a few gold items you might like.”

“I can send you a panda with angel wings.”

I want to ask what they’re talking about but I don’t want to get sucked into whatever it is they do. They also do something with farms, crops and animals.

Me, I’m into running around getting my arse kicked online with other people dropping bombs and other munitions on top of each other, I have so far resisted having to grow crops and take stuff to market thank you very much.

Rules of the game

Image by JKönig via Flickr

As I don’t work Mondays I usually walk Jade to her school bus as I did this morning.

“Slug Bug black grandpa.”

“Ow!”

“Slug Bug red.”

“Ow again, you know Jade you need to learn the rules of slug bug.”

“Why grandpa?”

“You are meant to call out ‘Slug Bug’ and the color of the car and punch someone in the arm, gently. But you are only meant to do it when you see a VW Beetle car, it can be the old version or the modern version but it the car  has to be the Beetle not just any VW car.”

“Grandpa, beetles, we’re talking about cars not beetles!”

“No, the Beetle is the VW car, oh never mind. Look slug bug blue.”

“Ow, grandpa, that was a bus!”

“I know, I am playing by your rules.”

Open Letter: Stinky dude please

Open letter to the dude sitting in front of me on the train who will never read this:

Dude, I’d prefer if you would spray on your deodorant before you leave the house not while sitting on the train. The car became filled with the pungent aroma of your deodorant there was no escaping, I thought I might have to puff on my inhaler if the stench prevailed much longer.

I’d almost prefer the smell of your stinky pits than that noxious cloud you sprayed everywhere.

Almost!