Questionable Costumes

I currently have a temp job at a place that sells Halloween stuff. Mostly costumes, but also decorations and make-up and hats. Some of it is really cool stuff, often it is over-priced stuff, and a few things are just out right stupid. I believe in an earlier post I mentioned there being a giant penis costume, a toilet costume, a Bullshit and a Poo Poo Platter costume. There is also an electronic humping dog decoration.

Something I was really disturbed by last year was the milk carton head ornament.

Personally, I do not see the point of making fun of present or past presidents, but I am okay with it. Pretend to be a witch, a ghost, a cowboy, a cop, a vampire, a rock star, or whatever. Buy a costume that makes you look like Jesus (not great for Halloween in my opinion, but the store won't be open around Easter, so if you want one get it now.)

All of that is fine with me.

But why pretend to be a missing child? Isn't that like way insensitive?

Silent Blogs

I don't read that many blogs regularly, but I do read a few. I read one in particular everyday. I was starting to feel like I knew that person. That person deleted a few of my comments and a few comments left by another person, made a couple more posts, and then just stopped. I don't know why. I can't believe it was because of anything I said, or anything that the other person said.
Now I know that person has had a bit of a disappointment recently, but we've all had things like that happen and we've lived to tell about it. And usually blog about it. But now I'm thinking this is it, I'll never be able to read that blog again. I'll never know what happened to that person. The person I was getting to know is just suddenly gone.

On a happier note, another blog is also gone. Not gone in the sense that she has stopped blogging, but gone in the sense that it is now only available to members.

So I will not be reading this blog anymore, and more importantly, no one that I know will be reading this blog either. There will be no more mention of whatever dumb thing was in her blog yesterday. The Bimbo will cease to be a topic of conversation at lunch. Well meaning friends will stop reminding me that there is yet again written proof that this woman has so few remaining brain cells that they rarely even bump into each other, much less get together long enough for intelligent thoughts.

If I wanted to know what dumb thing the Bimbo said, I would have read it myself. It is one thing to read the thing myself when I feel up to it, but it is a different thing entirely to find everyone around me discussing her smut while I am trying to eat. I know that I'm the one who originally started this, but enough already.

While the vile creature will never be completely gone from my thoughts, she is mostly gone from his, and now I can relax a bit without constant reminders of her existence. If he ever again decides that maybe it wouldn't hurt just to read her blog, he can't. He doesn't have the password.

Another two months, and that last thing that concerns me should be resolved.

My friend said the funniest thing about her today, or rather, said a funny thing about what the blog should have been named. But I think I will save that story for another time.

I regret that I have but one life to give for

Well, I didn't blog yesterday because I was too busy trying to get myself killed.

I didn't work enough hours to make any money yesterday, and I didn't get home in time to do any housework. But I wanted to get something done. So I decided that the best thing to do was to take some stuff to a friend's house to get ready for this weekend's garage sale. I just thought I'd feel better if I could cross something off of the list.

So I load the car and I'm on my way. Then I remember that I have no idea how to get there except on the freeway. And it's 6pm. Not the best time to get on the freeway.

If you've never driven on a freeway at 6pm, this is how it works:

You try to get on the freeway, and the other cars try to run you over. Then, once you're on the freeway, you try to figure out which lane you're supposed to be in, and the other cars try to run you over. Then, when you see a green sign that says your exit is coming up in a mile or so, you try to get over into the lane that allows you to take that exit so you can get off of the freeway, while the other cans try to run you over.

Oh, and this was at 6pm, and I was going west, so the sun is just in the right spot so that I can't read the green signs, and sometimes I can't see the other cars. I should have sunglasses for such occasions, but as I go the opposite direction on the way home from work, I usually don't need them, and I forgot to put them back in the car.

I'm sure there's a word for doing stuff like that for something as unimportant as a garage sale. Let me think...the word is...incredibly stupid.

No, wait, that's two words. But you get the idea.

But, I recognize a couple of shopping centers as I drive by, and I somehow manage to get off at the right exit and deliver the stuff to the friend's house.

Since I'm in the neighborhood, I might as well run another errand. So I dart into the fabric store to get something for my Halloween costume.

Okay, I like fabric/craft stores, but as far as actually trying to sew something, I really don't do that much. So I usually only have fabric cut maybe two or three times a year. I was just totally shocked when I walked up to the cutting table.

They told me to take a number.

Well, that's never happened before. I guess I had seen the take-a-number thing before, but it either didn't register or else I just thought it was something that had just in case it was a busy Saturday. I've never had to wait behind more than two people before. There were like ten people ahead of me.

But, I really don't want to make that drive again any time soon, so I decide to wait. And what's the hurry now. When I drive home I won't be facing the sun, and it will be okay.

Well, facing the sun was definitely not a problem when I got out of the store. It was pitch black. So again I'm driving on the freeway with less than ideal vision, but there were a lot fewer cars so it was okay.

It will probably rain in a couple of days and the garage sale will be canceled.

And if I don't quit wasting my time typing stuff like this I won't finish the Halloween costume either.

Giant Penis

Today I had to stuff a giant penis into a plastic bag.

Actually, it was more like six of them.

No, really. That was part of my job today. The Tricky Dick costume has been marked up from about forty-five dollars last year to about fifty dollars this year. So I had to take them all out of the bags and correct the prices and then put them back in the bags.

I don't know why anyone would buy one of these costumes. I don't know why anyone would want to go to a party as a giant penis. (I don't know why anyone would want to have giant penis either, but that is a topic for a totally different discussion.) I also don't know why anyone would want to go as a Toilet, or Bull Shit, or Poo Poo Platter, or any of that other stuff. Besides, buying a costume like that isn't really funny. Even if you are going to a party with people who would find that funny, it just isn't that funny unless you made the costume yourself. And for that sort of thing, to get the best laugh you have to be person who thought of the thing and made the first such costume.

What does it say about the person who buys and wears this kind of costume, other than he or she doesn't have a good enough figure to pull off one of the better looking costumes?

Stuck at home

I am stuck at home for most of today because I have to babysit a package.

Normally, if you had a package that needs to be delivered, you would make sure that the appropriate labels were on the package and then take the package to the FedEx or UPS or whatever drop-box and be done with it, and then get on with your day. Except that sometimes you either have to have a package delivered when you are not even in the same town as one of these drop-boxes, or you have a package so big that it doesn't fit in the drop box. If that is the case, you can call an 800 number, and the delivery truck will swing by to pick up the package, and you can just leave it by the door and hope that no one else takes the package before the delivery truck arrives.

But today a particularly expensive package was left in my care, so I've just been sitting here waiting for the truck to show up.

Not that I have anywhere I just have to be at the moment, but this just isn't the way I like to organize my day. The job first ( on the days I am scheduled, not today) and away from the house errands second and everything else after that. Doing everything else after that first doesn't feel right, and I tend to waste a lot of time on the computer and such.

So I'm just sitting here.

Last night I had a very strange dream that I was being sexually harassed at work. I have never been sexually harassed at work. Sexually harassed in high school a bit, but never at work. And this wasn't the mean comment kind of harassment, this was the someone else's hand down your pants kind of harassment. It was like this manager asked me to get something out of the back room, and I notice that there are other people but I can't seem to figure out why they're there or what they're doing, and then I see what's going on and try to leave only to find the manager has followed me in and is putting his hands where they don't belong.

I do not work for this man in my dream, and he did not remind me of anyone I have ever worked for. At the job I have right now, most of the managers are women. The store owner and a couple of district managers are men, but I hardly ever even see them, much less work with them. So this was just a really odd dream that just didn't seem to relate to me at all.

I sometimes wonder if I'm occasionally getting a glimpse of someone else's life in a dream. I wonder if there is somebody out there with the same job as mine who is being attacked in the back room? It's not like I can do anything about it, but it creeps me out a bit.

Sluts R Us

I finally bought something at the Sluts R Us store.

Okay, the name of store is not really Sluts R Us, but you get the idea. It's all thongs and corsets and Leg Avenue stuff. And a bunch of shoes that most real people can't walk in. Most of their regular costumers must be exotic dancers.

But they do get a lot of extra business around Halloween, which is when I usually go in and take a look around. Otherwise, I don't have much use for the place. Bras and sometimes even corsets can be obtained at Walmarts and Targets, and the occasional trip to Victoria's Secret will usually get me anything else I might want. I really only know about the Sluts R Us store because it is right next to the bookstore.

But, as October nears, I tend to go in and look around. My witch costume would look so much better if I added that corset, or I might think about wearing that skin tight thing over there if I lose five more pounds, or maybe this outfit and some cat ears might be nice.

Of course, I never actually buy any of it, even for Halloween. Halloween is a big deal among my friends, and we rarely just buy off the rack. Bought costumes are the last resort, like if you couldn't finish the costume you were working on cause you broke your arm or something.

Still, you could buy pieces of the costume here, like that corset that goes so well with the witch outfit. But I rarely give serious thought to buying anything here, just because I think this stuff is too expensive.

But yesterday I found some nylons that I just had to have, and they were only two dollars. Most of their nylons are closer to ten dollars, so I couldn't believe my luck. I bought two of them.

Well, they are supposed to be one size fits all. Of course, we all know that is nonsense. "All" is defined here as 5 foot to 5 foot 10 inches or 100 pounds to 165 pounds. I fit pretty much square in the middle of all that, so when I put this on I should look just like the model on the package (at least from the waist down), right?

Wrong.

These are footless lace tights. On the picture, the lace starts just above the ankle. So a person shorter than me should maybe have her ankles covered and a person taller than me should have a few more inches of leg showing. And on my legs, the nylons should look just the way they are represented in this picture.

But instead, my legs are exposed nearly to my knees.

These just won't do at all.

And there's no way that a woman five inches taller or 30 pounds heavier could even fit into these things.

Back to the drawing board. Or back to Targets to look for some better fitting nylons at least.

Happy Halloween.
And happy costume hunting.

What do you even call such a vile person?

Well, I imagine that anyone reading this blog would know exactly who I'm talking about. If not, maybe I'll go into that later. For now lets just say she was after my husband.

Some of you may have hear me refer to her as the Bimbo. Now, that certainly applies, but now I think it sounds a bit too cute. I started calling her that when she was only talking about what she was going to do to me, back when I thought she might have sense enough to call the whole thing off. Since that didn't happen, I think I should find something else to call her.

I have called her Bitch on a few occasions, but that really doesn't get it either. Besides, calling someone like that a bitch is unfair to dogs, especially in this case. I mean, a bitch will probably have sex with anything you put her in the same room with, but to be fair, isn't that what you bought her for? Bitches mate and make more little dogs, or at least, that's the idea. So it's unfair to compare an animal who is just doing what she's supposed to do with this woman who goes so far out of her way to do what she's not supposed to do.

To call this woman a useless piece of shit is an insult to shit. Manure can be quite useful.
But now that I think about it, e.coli can cause sickness and worry, as well have all seen with the tainted spinach. So maybe comparing the two isn't as far off as I first thought.

Homewrecking-slut. Now that one is pretty accurate, but it doesn't roll off the tongue as easily as I'd like. And it doesn't quite describe enough of what she is or what she tried to do.

Whore. Now that really puts my sentiments about the woman out there, and it does roll off the tongue nicely. But, again, the description isn't quite right. Now, if we define a whore as a woman who does some sexual favors in exchange for money (or at least with someone whom she believes has money and will give her some of it) that a decent woman with more self-respect wouldn't do, then that is at least half right. But this woman will not only do sexual things that a lot of women would find objectionable, but when that doesn't get her a man she provides the money as well.
I've never heard of anyone in real life like her. And the women on the movies who are desperate enough to pay for sex are usually twice her age.

So, if you have any suggestions as to what we should call this woman, go ahead and leave a comment. Maybe we'll all vote on it later.

Recomend a website

Well, I had this idea for a website. I know nothing about creating websites or any of that, but I just thought I had a good idea for one. In fact, I thought it was such a good idea that someone else must have thought of it first.

A quick Google search found a place called Homewreckingsluts.

So that might have been fun, but most of it isn't working at the moment. Now some of the really important stuff is still there, like a link that helps you find a divorce lawyer or counseling and stuff like that. But I didn't go there to find a lawyer, I went to read about what other women had done to other home-wrecking sluts. (I guess I just wanted to know if what I was thinking about was totally off the wall, or if maybe someone else had a better suggestion.) Anyway, except for the find a lawyer link, most everything else that you click on takes you to a picture of a spray-painted car and a sign that says they'll be back soon.

So I'm wondering if they really will be back soon, if they were sued or what? I saw on Dr PHIL that a woman is being sued because someone posted on her website about a lawyer being a bad date and possibly a bisexual. So the lawyer is suing, not his ex-girlfriend who may or may not be lying about him, but the woman who runs the website.

Anyway, if you know what happened with the Homewreckingsluts website, or if you know of a similar one, please let me know.

Today's planned post has been lost

Well, most of it anyway. I had been saving this particular thing, and now I can't seem to find it. Rather than try to rewrite the whole thing right now, I'll take it as a sign that it wasn't meant to be posted today, and I'll just wait.

And the only other one that I had prepared...well, it just seems a bit soon for that.

Now for the nonsense that seems to fill everyone else's blogs. I didn't get much done today...blah, blah, blah...

Well, the one thing I did get done wasn't as good as I thought. I bought some fabric to make this curtain, but now I see that it just won't do at all. I suppose it will be okay, but it doesn't match up with the other stuff as well as I thought. Now that I've got it in the room, it just looks too bright.
Which brings me back to my usual preference for everything being black. I like black in and of itself. I just like the way it looks. But right now I'm thinking that black is just easier to deal with in general. I mean, if you have something that has say black and orange or maybe peach in it, and you go out looking for stuff to match it you have an easier time with the black than with the orange or peach. The orange or peach stuff looks right, but then it turns out to be a little bit too much on the reddish side or a little too much on the yellowish side, or it's a bit to light or a bit too dark. Black, on the other hand, is pretty much just black. Black is black until it fades enough that it's gray, and then the gray stuff still goes well with the black stuff, so it might still work. And any other solid color goes good with black. So if you have a bunch of black stuff and then you throw in something red, it looks good. And then if you get tired of the red and want something totally different you can get rid of the red and replace it with blue, and the black will still look good with the blue. And probably you don't even have to get rid of the red, cause the black will look good with the red and the blue and possibly a few other colors at the same time.

For a while I had an almost exclusively black wardrobe. In some ways it made life simpler. Most of the laundry could all be done together. Black pants, black shirt, and black socks can all be washed together; no sorting. And I really like the way black clothes look. And if you can get your clothes on without getting deodorant on any of it, you don't have much like that to worry about the rest of the day. If you spill a bit off soda or accidentally sit on a bench where there's a coffee ring, a little water takes care of everything when you're wearing all black. Otherwise, unless the soda or coffee and the clothing are the same color, you either look bad for the rest of the day, change into spare clothes that you brought just in case something like that happened, or run to the nearest drug store to find out if the Tide pens work like in the commercials.

The black clothes made some people think that I was depressed or needing to make some sort of statement. The only statement I was making was that I liked what I was wearing. And while I don't think if myself as in with the rest of the girls who really like to shop, I must admit that I'm rarely depressed when I'm buying clothes. I didn't go to the mall and pick up something black and say "I'm so depressed, and this looks just like I feel."

I don't get it. Tons of people go to Victoria's secret and ask for something black, and no one thinks that they're depressed.

The black clothing has caused a few other comical moments:
"Dear, have you seen my black sweater?"
"What does it look like?"
"It's black."
"Is this it?"
"No, it has buttons on the front."
"Is this it?"
"No, the other one."
"In that case, no, I haven't seen it. Sorry Dear."

Not much happened today. Just writing this as a test. I'll probably delete it tomorrow.

This is sad. I sort of bought a present for someone, and I'm sitting here eating it.