Neighborly Love

Hey, lady in the apartment two doors down from me...

Throwing food over your little back fence and into our neighbor's yard is tacky. So what if you're feeding rabbits or wildlife or whatever the hell lives in Betty's yard, Betty has to look out every night after dinner and see food thrown in her yard. You have a garbage can as well as a nasty boyfriend who looks like he would eat raw sewage if given the chance.

Rude, rude, tacky.

Btw, when I take my dog out back he licks clean your spatula that's hanging off your grill.

And I let him.

Welcome to the neighborhood.

Professional Tip #542

If you're emailing someone you don't personally know, and you can't tell from their name if they are male or female - DON'T PUT MR. BEFORE THE LAST NAME.

And it's ALWAYS a man who does it. Ignorant douchebags.

*Is it obvious I've received more than one "Dear Mr. Rags" emails this week? Didn't think so...

I Hate It When...

I'm digging through my coin purse for soda money, and I only have like one quarter so then I move on to dimes. I find five dimes so then I move on to nickels...and I'm mentally counting the change until I hit $1.35...and then I find a quarter and HAVE TO START MY COUNTING ALL OVER AGAIN.

I know, I know. First-world problems.

Angels and Donkeys

This is an ad on my Facebook page. I have a few issues.

Beyond my usual ones.

First, does this mean the chick with the huge ass is ugly? I mean, I can't see her face. She could be Kim Kardashian, who has a pretty face but a hella huge ass. In fact, I know a few guys who would appreciate that onion REGARDLESS of her face. Girl, work that Donkey Booty!!! (And yes, I'm Team Phaedra...)

Second, ugly girls "need love too"? So do ugly guys. And douchebags. And gay people. Go marriage equality! We ALL need love. This implies that ugly women don't get love, which is totally wrong because I, as a single woman, notice a LOT of ugly women who are married. Which pisses me off until I think, "Would I marry her husband? Hell to the NO." Case closed.

Lastly, her ass ain't that bad. I mean, yeah it's gargantuan - but do YOU see cellulite? I sure don't, and THAT'S a miracle of God with that junk in the trunk. This woman is either photoshopped or an angel.

Holy shit.

IT'S KIM KARDASHIAN'S GUARDIAN ANGEL.

Happy Birthday!

Thirteen years ago today my life changed for the better (well...MOST days it's for the better!) Not much of a difference having a teenager in the house as he's acted like a 21-year-old frat guy since about age 10.

Happy birthday, Mouth. Ted and I love ya!

Ucky Ucky Poo Poo

Guys. I get that you can grown facial hair. Woo go you! But just a word of advice from a single girl looking to mingle...

Wait to grow the beard until you're married.

I can only only imagine how liberating it must feel to quit shaving and grow all the hair out on your face. Hell, I personally cherish wintertime when I don't have to shave my legs every three days. It's fab to see what the human body does when unbridled, yes?

Um, yeah. A beard is a WHOLE other animal.

I'm sorry but...it's gross. It's SO NASTY I can't even begin to tell you. And your girlfriend may be all, "Awww, you look cute!" No, you don't. You look gross and ucky. And those girlfriends who tell you it looks cute are desperate to be married. They'll say anything to get the ringy on the fingy - even if they're throwing up in their mouth a little bit every time they see that NASTY ASS BEARD on your face. Especially if the carpet doesn't match the drapes.

SO...stay clean until you're married. Once you get the whole legally-binding-til-death-do-us-part thing going on, then go on which your bad self and grow that shit out. But I guarantee you your now-wife won't be so enamored with the fuzz.

Just sayin'.

There's More Than One Way to Skin a Cat

I have an old kitty named Toph (as in the cartoon 'Avatar', for those who never spent several hours a day watching cartoons because their child ruled the house AND the remote.) She is almost 14 years old. She's been sick for two years - essentially starving to death even though she eats like a hog. She even ate the dog's food, which confused him more than pissed him off.

I have spent several hundred dollars in recent weeks trying to help her feel better and find what's ailing her. The vet can't figure it out and wanted to "go invasive." I thought, she's an old kitty...she's had a good run...and I'm not dishing out two grand for her to die in exploratory surgery. So I made the decision to put her down.

The vet kept telling me how he could do this and that and send her to "the university" (???) before we finally had a 'Come to Jesus' meeting where I explained my thoughts on Toph's remaining days. He agreed with me that she was suffering, and we set the appointment for the next day.

As I sat at work that day, I was vascillating between feeling relieved because Toph would no longer be in pain (and I would no longer have to pay Mother to clean up cat diarrhea twice a day) and feeling terrible for ending a life - albeit an animal's life. Then a thought popped into my head: how much is this going to cost? Because I just spent $250 on the latest round of blood work for that dumb cat...how much will they charge me for killing her???

I started Googling (natch) and saw figures like $500. I thought, nuh UH! I'm not spending $500 to put my dying cat to sleep. She's down to only six pounds...how much sleeping medicine would it take??? So I OF COURSE turned to an expert.

My coworker, German.

(Yes, that German...of the sweater vest fame.)

Me: "German, what if the vet charges me five hundred bucks to put my cat down? I can't pay that. What do I do?"

German: "What??? You better Google that shit. Google "how to kill your cat at home". I GUARANTEE you people have not only searched that but have answers."

I couldn't do it. Not only because we were at work, and I can only imagine the warning bells going off in IT as I typed in the phrase "killing my cat" into my work computer but because she was my kitty...and I loved her...even though she went diarrhea everywhere. So I started Googling on my phone.

German: "Dude. I found it. They say the best thing is to build a CO chamber in your home. Not sure about the legality of it but still...you could tell the cops it's a pizza oven! Charge the neighbors when they need their pets killed."

Me: "Stop it!!! Wait. Here's something: 'I wonder how much money my vet's going to screw me out of if I ever have to have my little Rockmeowmadeus put to sleep when he's old and dying'..."

German: "Wait, wait, WAIT! Did you just say Rockmeowmadeus???"

Me: "Ha, yeah?"

German: "That's the BEST name! I'm going to get a cat JUST so I can name it Rockmeowmadeus."

Me: "What the hell? You don't like animals. You're Googling how to kill my cat!"

German: "I know! But that would be SO COOL!"

Needless to say, I took my kitty to the vet to be put down. They only charged $75 and were very sweet as I sobbed over her dead body because of the guilt I felt that I made the decision for her to die. But when I got home, Mouth and I agreed it was the right choice because she was miserable - and I felt much better.

Until two days later when the vet sent me a CONDOLENCE CARD. Assholes. And so ensued another round of sobbing.

Now I'm just waiting for German to get little Rockmeowmadeus. And then when his kitty gets sick I'M going to be the insensitive bastard and Google how to kill his cat at home.

Although I'm sure he will have the CO chamber already built as he would use the shit out of it as a pizza oven until it's needed.

Bless his heart.