Fun Factory Butter

Just so you know, I've never found butter so hard it destroyed my bread. Because you know, when I take it out of the fridge, where I store my butter, instead of the deep freezer, I give it some time to warm up before I spread it. And if I absolutely cannot wait, Hints from Heloise taught me how to nuke a stick of butter ever so delicately to get that nice, soft spread.

Now give your daughter back her playdoh toys and stop drinking gin while you cook dinner...

A six year old will do it for less money

That's right... you can spend 9.95 plus 6.95 on packaging and handling. Please note that it does not say SHIPPING and handling... you're paying 6.95 for the box. God only knows what they're going to charge you for the shipping, since right over there, you can pay an additional five bucks for express processing.

It's like getting front cuts in line at school!

The Slanket!

It says right there, down at the bottom, that this is the best blanket... ever!

Hey, if I use a lot of periods... and exclamation marks... can I claim that this is the best blog ever!!!!!!

Yeah, doesn't work that way, does it?

More crap no one needs to own

As if the damned snuggie wasn't enough, it turns out there is another one just like it, going head to head. I give you... the slanket.

Seriously. It’s gone too far. Just too far.

And now my boyfriend is threatening to give me one. He’s threatening to be single, is what he is, if he does that. Actually no. He’s not. He’s threatening a real, straight up “we’re getting married” with a specific date and all, if he does that, because I'll put him on the spot faster than a four year old does Santa Claus.

Who knew the as seen on TV stuff equaled marriage proposals? But then again, he’s the man who straight up told me that he’s actually used Ginsu knives, so he should expect this.

So the discussion of the aforementioned snuggie and the slanket (what the hell is up with that name, anyway?), I had to go look online. And naturally, there were some shopping suggestions made just for me. Including this one: caulk away.

You know what I use to remove old caulk? A six year old. That’s right. Whether I want the old caulk removed or not, the six year old niece is just going to get right in there and “accidentally” pull it off. Especially if I act like I don’t want her to. Hey, it’s free labor, right? And I saved $9.95 plus ten thousand dollars in shipping and handling too. Bingo, baby, is all I’m saying.

And if the Smart Spin supposedly holds all my storage needs… why am I paying U-haul several grand a year?

Also, what the hell? You know someone ripped off their kid’s toy box for the original idea for this little gadget. And who really neeeeeeeeeeeeeds star shaped butter?

Being me, I’d expect the market for these products would go down in a tough economy. But I’m dead certain that this sort of stuff is absolutely flying off the shelves, because it sounds good. It’s hyped well. And if it breaks in 2 weeks, well, I can just go back to using the pots and pans I have to boil my eggs…

As Seen On TV

So in case you haven’t heard, I committed economic suicide and quit my job at camp just before Thanksgiving. I’m back in Texas, where I’ve come to learn I was paid so little that I could have qualified for food stamps. So as it turns out, it wasn’t much of an economic risk as I thought it was going to be.

Anyway, I’m back in Houston and have been getting my stuff sorted out. When I came home from Iraq, I sort of sorted it, because I moved to North Carolina shortly after I got back. This time around, I’ve been a wee bit more thorough, but not much, because I don’t really know where I’m headed to next, but that isn’t the point.

The point is… what the hell do we need a snuggie for?

Seriously, when did it become impossible for us to put on a sweater in our house that we now need a giant blanket with arms in it? Great big, baggy, oversized arms, no less.

And you want to convince me that this is good for my nieces, too? Hell, the little one would be swallowed whole by this thing. One size fits all? I don’t think so.

It’s a robe people. Worn backwards. It’s like a hospital gown on steroids, actually, because the damned thing doesn’t meet to wrap around, like a robe does. And I’m just saying that the action shot they have of the family sitting on metal bleachers outside all wrapped up in their fleece monstrosities…. You know that little old lady was bitching to high heaven about freezing her ass off and the little girl has some serious wounds under hers, too, from tripping over the damned thing.

And someone, somewhere, is making money off of this sh*t. C’mon people, we’re in a recession, but we’re not desperate enough to buy this crap. Just make a home made gift certificate for one home cooked meal, or a foot massage. Trust me, it’s a way better deal all around.

This as seen on TV crap has got to go is all I’m saying. Wasn’t the bedazzler good enough? Now we have to have the GeMagic tool. And just how hard is it, really, to turn a light switch on or off that we now have to have a remote control operated one that works through walls?

Now I can see the potential for mischief with that last one… but as a rule, it’s just not that freaking hard to go to a lamp and turn it on. Or off. Or on again. And if you really struggle with the little toggle switch, get a touch lamp. My grandma had one back in the 80s, and seriously, the dog could have worked that lamp with his nose. A remote control… not so much.

Time to turn off the tv, I think…

Cranky, not cranky

So I was obviously irritated as heck after talking to the cable company. (Yes, I know it's the satellite company, but it takes longer to say, and isn't as satisfying.) After all, Stephanie Plum, and the entire Trenton clan all swear and curse out the cable company throughout the course of a book, so if it's good enough for them, it's good enough for me.
But really, that's not what brought me back. Today I had a fun encounter up at Yellow Dog Designs.
We get a lot of donations of in-kind items here, and it really helps us operate well at camp. And Yellow Dog came through with an offer the other day, which landed on my desk. I'm not complaining right now, but almost everything lands on my desk.
Shoe laces. All sorts of them.
That was fun.
And then when we called and found out we could drop by and get some for trick or treat treats, well, it was a short trip up to Greensboro. Where we were greeted by a yellow dog.
Named Sugar.
And then a black dog named Batman.
And then another black dog named Will.
And then an itty bitty dachshund who's name I can't remember.
And then another yellow dog.
It was a lot of fun to walk into a business where the dogs come to say hi. And then I leave with a car packed with cases and cases full of shoe laces. Heh. That rhymes.
Will was my favorite dog though. He's a big black lab, bigger than the other labs there, and when he's happy with you, he growls. I decided to think of it as talking, because it wasn't a mean growl, what with the tail wagging and the perky ears. When he was a puppy, it seems he got confused and started equating big growls with being happy. The owner said it was the guys in the shop who got him trained oddly way back when, and no one tried to fix it.
So I was standing on the loading dock eye to eye with about 100 lbs of growling, writhing, delighted dog when I rubbed his ears. And it's a little odd, I will admit, to be growled at and licked at the same time, but that's just part of Will's charm.
I offered to dog sit.
I was given dog collars, lanyards and shoe laces instead. I can't complain.

Oh, so you meant it was 24 months, but you said 12 months...

Stupid, stupid Directv.
Stupid.
The camp is now providing cable tv into my house, because "they didn't know" my house never had it. So that got fixed. After I paid for satellite at about $700 bucks from January until now. Nice timing, camp, really. Nice.
So I call Directv to cancel my service, expecting a fee, because I wasn't doing my 1 year commitment. And then I find out they're telling me that I have a 24 month commitment.
That's when I went ballistic. Because I know that the dude on the phone I talked to way back in January, who had to deal with me after Directv lost my account installation information, told me it was a 12 month commitment. Tweeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeelllllllllveeeeeeeee. Twelve. 1-2. Twelve. And I checked with him.
Yep, still twelve.
So I went for it, and had the installation done.
And now, when I call to cancel, I'm being socked a massive fee because the tweaknuts down there say I have a 24 month commitment.
No way in hell would I have made that commitment, given the fact that I was on a new, low paying, unknown job. I had no idea how long I'd be here, and though I HOPED it would be for years and years, I wasn't betting the farm on that.
But that's okay, because Directv bet the farm for me.
Know what it costs to cancel your service? Twenty bucks a month. That's not much, really. It just means I don't go out to eat twice each month, and then it's paid off. But three hundred dollars at once, to cancel, is really hard to swallow.
And there's a hell of a double standard going on, too, because it IS possible to merge 2 accounts. Say mine and my significant other's, once we get married. No, I'm not getting married. What I'm saying is that the idiots at the satellite company will allow me to merge my account with my spouse's account, but I can't merge my account with my parents' account. What's the difference, really? It's probably some obscure legal technicality along the lines of same sex partnerships, but I don't want to think about that.
All I have to say is that North Carolina has not been kind to me. It's cost me a small fortune to work here at a camp making no money. This can't go on.
And if I ever get my hands on a directv executive, I'll be exacting my three hundred dollars worth of fee out of his hide. More than once, just for good measure.