It hurts my weiner

Gewertztraminer. Ga-verts-tra-meener. Sounds like ‘it hurts my weiner’. White wine, goes well with anything.  People-watching at the winery was only one of the highlights of the Thelma & Louise weekend with the best friend. We kicked off the weekend yesterday by driving around town in the ‘65 Mustang convertible (because we are so cool), sipping some vino at the G-Spot bar (no kidding, that’s the name), then just ended up watching a marathon of Californication (David Duchovny is hot).

Started today off by getting matching, original tattoos. We got them on the upper back, so they coordinate well with the tramp stamps that we each have on our lower back. The Milf (her) and the Cougar (me) would have looked way cooler cruising wine country in the ’stang if it wasn’t 98 degrees out today. Holy shit, I didn’t think it was possible to sweat so much.

We only visited four of the wineries (out of 50+ in a 40-mile radius) but it was so nice to kick back, relax and speculate about our fellow wine tasters. We think one group was a bunch of moochers – there was 10 of them and they didn’t even buy any wine. Tight-ass tire kickers! Rookies – they couldn’t even pronounce Gewertztraminer right. Not a lot of single guys out for me to scope out – but we did get checked out by some very butch lesbians. I said we were looking hot!

Back to the casa and AC and by then it was power nap time. We are powering up for another round of uncensored TV tonight. It’s just too freaking hot; it’s still over 90 degrees and it’s 7 p.m. Whatever happened to the hottest part of the day being from ten to two?

In your pants

I was just perusing the weekly entertainment guide and caught the ‘guilty pleasures’ column. The author was talking about the different car games that people play on road trips and mentioned one that I’ve never heard of called the ‘in your pants’ game. Basically it’s like the fortune cookie rule that you add ‘in bed’ to the end of the fortune, but with road signs. The possibilities are endless – ‘Visitor Parking…in your pants‘, ‘Historical Site…in your pants‘.

Can’t wait to go on my Thelma & Louise wine tasting road trip tomorrow and see what we can find!

Officer I swear it was just there

I’m referring to the previous post about the pot plant in my neighbor’s yard – must have been time to harvest because it’s gone now! At least I have photo documentation. I tried to do the right thing, called the county narcotics unit, and they haven’t called me back yet. Well I’m still keeping an eye on them, I think they are cultivating more ganja in their garage.

The worst part is that I finally figured out a way to get them busted and not have them know. In true NoHostBar fashion – I decided to throw a neighborhood cocktail party! What a better way, invite all the ‘hood (them included) and then have someone magically notice their crop on the tour of my back yard. I’m sure drug trafficking is some sort of violation of the homeowner’s agreement – right up there with having a yard sale that isn’t on the scheduled yard sale weekend.

Do these look natural?

My new highlights that is. I thought I’d try something new with my hair which isn’t always the best idea. I just wanted to go a little lighter so I don’t look like my ex husband’s girlfriend. Her hair color is like mine when I get my color done – which makes it a little weird at family functions, but secretly I think she dyed her hair darker to match mine. So anyways…the hair stylist said we should do some highlights, because you can’t just go from dark to light on color. OK, fine I say, I’m sure they won’t be too noticeable. WRONG! It looks like I was trying to use one of those shower caps with the twister dots on it and it went horribly wrong with streaky blond on my dark hair. Remember Sun-In and how phony the color was? Now you get the picture.

My sister-in-law was polite and said they didn’t look too bad, but my nephew said it looked like I had yellow highlights. Thanks Tyler, Auntie feels a lot better now.  I’m sure it will look better after a couple washes but it could be a summer of shower caps (definition: wearing a hat when you don’t want to shower).

Oh well, you know what they say the difference between a good and bad haircut is? About six weeks.

You gotta match?

Oh yeah. This lady outside the PD did not just ask me that. I got a match – my face and your ass. Wait a minute, it’s ‘your face and my ass’. I’ve been waiting for years to reply to that one – I first heard this in college (so it’s nothing new) back at the Plantation Tavern (aka The Plant) in Moscow, Idaho. Otherwise known as my part-time job, or way to drink free beer and get paid for it. That was in the days that you really could drink on the job.

But I digress. I actually stopped by to see my Police Chief buddy in Small Town USA (where I used to work) to tell him my miscreant neighbor story. For some reason he didn’t think that one pot plant justifies as a ‘marijuana grow operation’ for the $5,000 tip money to eradicate illegal grow operations. But he did agree that maybe the 100 degree heat this weekend could be fatal for gardening operations, if you get my drift (round-up if you need a hint). Now at the beauty shop today, they recommended that I tell the drug dealers to not be alarmed if they see a police car, just that my boyfriend is stopping by. Nice thought, if I knew a cop that actually had jurisdiction in this city…not counting the sheriff that was probably the worst sexual experience of my entire life (and that’s saying a lot) – but that is for a whole other post.

Blind Sex Press

Huh?  What the heck, blind what?  If you want to read one of the absolute funniest stories of the year, you’ve got to visit one of my college friend’s (Griffy for you Vandals) blog page.  Be prepared…I almost wet my pants from laughing so hard.  It’s titled “Blind Sex on my Computer”.

 http://kirtyhoo.wordpress.com/

Yep it’s can-a-bus

“You don’t know what a pot plant looks like?…Says the friendly officer at the YPD.  Well yes, I’ve seen pictures and tattoos of a pot plant, but never one in PERSON!  It’s not like it looks the same in a baggie.  So if you read my post yesterday, I spotted a plant in my neighbor’s ‘garden’ that looks suspiciously like a pot plant so I took a photo in to the Police Department to confirm.  And he did.  Like he didn’t even have to look twice.  What the Fuck? I live in a freaking development with a name – it’s mostly middle-aged or retirees…except for the one ILLEGAL GROW OPERATION practically in my back yard! 

So here’s the dilemma…do I turn them in and risk the psycho bi-atch retaliating? Do I call the relative who owns the house (should have known, damn renters, there goes the neighborhood)? Do I say something like, by the way, I’m having some law enforcement friends over for a back yard BBQ, so you know, you might want to do a little weeding by the tomato plant? Or do I just zap the bastard with round-up and hope they think it was the 90 degree heat over the weekend?  I’m totally stressed about this.  Now if I thought I was just going to get robbed or something as payback for them getting arrested, I could probably live with it.  But if they poison my dog or something, that’s a whole different risk I’m not sure I’m willing to take.  Any advice? 

MaryJane’s last dance

Holy crap!  I was in my backyard tonight and just happened to look in my next door neighbor’s yard – there’s a freaking pot plant growing.  So I’m thinking to myself, “no way”…who would grow just one plant next to a tomato plant?  Our houses are classified as zero lot line, which basically means there’s about 3 feet of space from each side.  Then I’m like, well I can’t turn them in to the PD, they’ll know it was me and the chick is nutso.   She actually scares me, anyone that smokes and is 8 months pregnant has no regard for other people.  So I decide to do some investigative reporting to make sure it’s not just a zucchini plant or something – nope, the picture I took looks identical to what I found online!  Yikes.  Maybe I’ll get the round-up going and spray some weed.  Literally.

Hey, you gonna water your lawn?

No sooner do I get out of my car and my neighbor is yelling at me from her driveway from across the street – “Hey, you gonna water your lawn tonight?”.  What, you mean brown grass actually means that I should water?  I’m thinking to myself, fuck you lady, I’m busy, it’s Friday night at 7:30, I started drinking at 10 a.m. and just got home, do I look like I want to schlep hoses around?  I just moved into this development about six weeks ago and have since learned I’ve got a couple of Nosy Rosie neighbors.  First let me say that yardwork is not my strong suit, thank God that I now have a yard that’s smaller than my last one, but it doesn’t matter, I still don’t do weeding.  Second, said cul-de-sac resident came over to chat when I was having my yard sale and I said something about not having a long enough hose to reach my whole yard – so she gave me one to use, nice right?  Yeah, sure…  Apparently that now gives her license to tell me I need to water my lawn.  Man, I’ve got to buy another hose, this is bull$*%..

C yoU Next Tuesday

So I pulled my groin last July and I still have to ice it on a nightly basis almost a year later (hello, it’s not like I’m using it).  The worst part is that there wasn’t even any sex involved when I injured it – I was getting into a boat that pulled away from the dock and I did a modified split, which this bod is just not cut out for.  Not that I haven’t ever injured myself during a wild sexual experience – remind me to tell you my snowmobile story sometime…

If you’re a Weeds fan you’ll appreciate what Celia said after a tough yoga class – “I’m going to go home and ice my cooz”… I hear you there sister; welcome to my world.