It's a jungle out there....

For the first time in my life, I have my own back yard.

Correction- for the first time in my adult life, I have my own back yard.

I have planted four things: a key lime tree, zinnias, sunflowers, and giant sunflowers. Two of the four have survived. I have giant sunflowers and a key lime tree. Not too shabby if I ever want key lime sunflower seeds.... eh? One of the four have flourished.  Big. Ass. Sunflowers.

I have gotten a lot of pleasure out of watching my sunflowers grow.


And grow.


And grow.


And grow.

There should be a word that out giants "giant." The scientific name for sunflowers is helianthus annuus, but it should really be humongous annuus (roughly translates to huge ass sunflower).


(Please don't explain to me that annuus is a derivative of how frequently the sunflowers bloom. Remember whose blog you're reading here. I get it. I am just making a joke).

Last night, I was enjoying my sunflowers with some friends when an image came into my head. All of a sudden, I saw my Jurassic plants uprooting, walking over to my window, tapping on it, and letting me know that they hadn't been watered in a while.


Even thinking about it now gives me the chills.

Big ass flower freaks.

I told my friends my nightmarish vision and then quickly turned to the sunflowers (who were clearly listening) to let them know the first one that did that would get a face full of round up. I am not messing around.

The Ultimate Search Engine

Last Summer, I introduced the best "accent" ever to my faithful readers. You know- the one where you put an "er" into ERVERY WERD PERSSIBLE. Basically, all of the hilarious ERMAHGERD stuff going around the internet right now started with yours truly.

You saw it here first.

Alright, I'm lying. I actually saw the ERMAHGERD language first used electronically on Wal-Mart's webpage.


Last June, I was looking for a rocking pair of Jeggings (jean leggings- if you are so unhip that you didn't know what that horrible fashion statement was) for 80s night (or for real life?) and decided to see what the great American mecca had in stock. I went to Wal-Mart's site and searched "jeggings." This is what came up:

  

Who knew that Wal-Mart gave the ability to search phonetically. Who knew!? 

"Guest" Blog: McDonald's Fail

You know those times where everything is going right and the only thing that can make life better is a little greasy goodness? This guest blog, written by Michael, tells of one of life's disappointments when that heart attack in a bag is withheld.

There's nothing wrong with a little penchant for fast food right? After a recent experience, I got the hint that I need to tone it down a little.

Sure fast food is bad for you and it is hard to avoid the guilt that comes with being handed a hefty bag through the second window that takes both of the employee's hands and your hands to complete the transaction... and knowing that it is all for you. But, every now and then it is what the doctor ordered (well not literally, unless they were trying to drum up business).

So picture this, I woke up for work on a Friday in a great mood and the first thought that crossed my mind after turning off the alarm---- McDonald's breakfast! Like a kid on Christmas morning, I jumped out of bed, and rushed to get dressed so I could make it to Mickey D's to grab some scrumptiousness without being late for work. I felt good as I made great time fighting the traffic to my local McDonald's. To avoid the inevitable delay of amateur (or lazy) McDonald's purveyors, I opted to go inside. So I parked, headed inside and, given my elated state, decided to forgo my normal chicken biscuit and ice coffee order and treat myself to the whole big plate breakfast. You know, the one with everything that screams coronary, covered in syrup.

Oh yeah, Mickey-D's. You got me salivating like a Pavlov dog.

This morning, this particular McDonald's was extra efficient (am I in New Orleans?) and the food was being bagged before my transaction was completed.  The woman behind the counter grabbed my meal and ice coffee and sat it all in front of me and then waited for payment. With a smile, I pulled out my trusty debit card and swiped it through the self-serve card swiper machine. 

CARD DENIED.

I chuckled, "stupid machine," .... swipe again

CARD DENIED.

I started to get nervous as the woman behind the counter fixated her cold, McDonald's gaze on me.

I didn't have any cash. Swipe.

DENIED.

Swipe again.

DENIED. 

I KNEW I had money in my account. Certainly enough to pay for the big plate breakfast. This totally confused me. Panic immediately took place of confusion as I realized the fate of my breakfast. The breakfast that was already sitting in front of me.

The woman, tired of my fumbling, asked "Can you pay?" I tried smiling nice and explaining that my card should work and that I didn't have cash. In one fell swoop, the bag and iced coffee were off of the counter, and her back was to me as she yelled:

"Beth, we have another one who can't pay." Apparently she felt the need to inform Beth AND everyone in line behind me of the situation.

Totally defeated and empty handed, I turned to leave. I kept my eyes down as I walked past the line of McDonald's goers who knew the "go inside trick" and who just watched me have the ultimate McDonald's Fail.

My confusion regarding my money woes was cleared later that day when I found out  my card number was one of FIVE THOUSAND potentially hacked overnight through my bank, which then shut off access to my account (without notice). FIVE THOUSAND in a bank of MILLIONS of card carrying customers. If there were a million customers in my bank (and there are far more), the chances of my card being affected is less than 1%. ONE PERCENT. And on all of the days. The day I was going to treat myself to a big plate breakfast. But instead, my Friday morning was left to fate, who decided to tell me that I had crossed the fast food frequenter line and slapped my hand away from the eggs, hashbrowns, biscuit, sausage, pancakes, and sweet sweet sweet syrup.