Miss Jenny is my most favoritist teacher ever. Just sayin.
R E S P E C T
I'm beginning to wonder if the human race doesn't have this anymore. It is sad to see stuff that goes on.
I have decided to make Dazee's Mission Statement. I am only one, but I can do my share.
I will respect your choice of religion, if you will respect mine.
I will respect your choice of political views, if you will respect mine.
I will respect your choice of a partner, if you will respect mine.
I will respect your feelings, if you will respect mine.
I will respect your choice of no tattoo's, if you respect my choice to have them
I will respect your personal space, if you will respect mine.
But, and this is a big but (almost as big as my butt, tee-hee-hee)
If you choose to bash my religion or political views, I will only take so much. You will have to respect the fact that I am going to go all ape shit on you.
If you choose to bash my husband, children or grandchildren, you will respectfully have to take the verbal, physical or other abuse I will throw at you. NOBODY, I repeat, NOBODY has the right to treat another human as a piece of dirt.
My feelings are MINE. You don't have to like them.
I will show you the same respect you show me. Deal?
The other day, I was lucky enough to sit down with an up and coming artist, that asked me if she could paint my portrait.
I felt very honored.
The last time I sat for a portrait I was a young girl.
So, after many hours minutes of sitting very still, I was presented with my new portrait
Grammie
By Miss A
age 3
Now, I know you are overcome with how much this portrait resembles me. And no doubt you are wondering what things are. Well, because of modern technology, I have been able to help you with that.
I have legs and no arms. and a blue dress, but no underwear.
(hey, its what she told me, as she was laughing in her hysterical 3 year old laugh)
It's been a couple of weeks since I have done any Dear letters. But sit down and get comfy for some letters to my fellow MALE coworkers.
ah hum (clearing of throat)
Dear Guys That Have To Outdo Each Other In The Noise Level.
TONE IT DOWN. Geez. I'm pretending trying to work here. I understand that one of our outside salesmen is in the office, and he talks freaking loud, but you do NOT have to try to outdo him. Honestly, I'm going deaf in here.
Speaking of loud outside salesman
Dear Outside Salesman.
Dude, CLEAN OUT YOUR EARS. Freak, maybe you talk so loud because your ears are so full of wax and dirt that you can't hear. Furthermore, DO NOT stand next to us girls when talking to us. You are short. We can see in your ears when we are sitting. It is gross and disgusting. How does your wife stand it? Yuk, getting that huz feeling. (huz description when I was a mere teenager, the rolling of the stomach which is about to spew forth its contents).
Dear Freakoide Named Goober.
What the hell. You decide to "call" the company phone number, when you are a mere 100 ft away in your office, instead of dialing one of our EXTENSIONS, to ask a stupid question. Of which the question was akin to "is so and so here". Get off your lazy butt and walk in and ask us. Calling the phone number. Really?
Dear Speed Message Sender On Voice Mail.
SLOW THE FREAK DOWN. You are not trying out for a "small print at the end of any commercial" fast talker. Especially when you are leaving a phone number. DO NOT give it like this
9995558888 (that was super fast talking, as if you couldn't tell, just go with me on this one)
Be kind, so we don't have to listen to you ramble 2, 3, or 4 times to get the number.
Repeat after me.
999 . . . . . 555. . . . .88..88
All of Voicemail listeners will thank you.
Dear Monotone Sales Reps.
Good heavens. Put some pep in that talk. There is nothing worse than listening to your "schpeal" in the same voice inflection the whole time. Do you hear that snoring? That is me listening to you. Can't even imagine what it must be like to be your kid being scolded.
Dear Freaking Cancer
You suck. You suck so bad that you have affected the life of our Fire Inspection Guy. Who didn't let us know. Until we had a fire alarm problem and I called at 7 in the morning and woke him up. Then I got the bad news. He has cancer. His brother is taking over the business. Do you know how badly it affects me when to hear a grown man cry. Damn you cancer, I hate you!!!!!
Now, lets all take a breath and go on to some good letters, shall we.
Would it bother you tons if I started using the word PLONKERS. I love that word. I love how you call us that when you are talking to us in your blog. According to urbandictionary.com this is what it means
PLONKERS
Nursery word for poos, after the 'plonk' they make when they hit the water.
Oh look, you forgot to flush the toilet and it's full of plonkers!
Hahaha. She's calling us pieces of poo. I love it. I think I will just start calling the guys at work plonkers. It fits them to a T.
I already told you I was going to steal this word. At least my readers know I ask permission before I just steal it. And what is the word that I love and adore
BREASTICLES
Can you hardly stand it. Next time I go ask for a raise in pay, I'm going to gird up by breasticles and be tough. Yeah, watch me, I'm going to do it. Stay away from me. I'm a woman with guts err breasticles.
Wow, I can not even believe how liberating this post was today.
It's Monday again......Already. This weekend flew by. Fun filled with my friend Machaelle. She came up from a small city in Southern Utah so we could go to the Josh Groban Concert.
I made a video montage of Saturday's adventures for your viewing enjoyment. It is a vlog, per se. I will be heard talking but you won't be seeing me much. Lucky, lucky you.
A few things before the video. On the train I was sitting behind a wall so some of the shots aren't the best. You will meet a rather, older, teeth missing, gentlemen, that let out a huge belch before he boarded. (you just don't hear me say it that well)
Whenever I would zoom on my camera the talking would stop. DO NOT ADJUST YOUR SETS. :)
Now, do enjoy
Josh Groban was awesome. Soul touching voice. When he would talk between songs, he was always cracking us up. Of course, we bought the inexpensive tickets, so we were 5 rows from the top of the arena. You should have seen us two gimpoides climbing those stairs. Priceless
Yesterday, we headed on over to the local Thea-a-ter and saw
The Help
This was a great movie. The type of movie that I didn't want to ever end.
