Hobo Breath

This morning I fought the urge to take up permanent hibernation, pretty low motivation, you know?  I got up, made coffee and sloth-ed over to my recliner to cuddle with my computer and Bella, debating with myself over the pros and cons of going back to bed. 

JS got up on schedule and performed his 20 minute morning beautification routine and then his 10 minute bag loading business.  After loading his computer rucksack and strapping it carefully to his body he gives me a big hug and a kiss on the cheek to avoid my morning Hobo breath.  Sometimes he likes to throw in some growling or a loud smooch session just for Bella’s benefit.  She vehemently disapproves of any in-home PDA and usually begins barking and lunging for his fingertips as soon as he gets all rucksacked up for departure.

I know some of you are imagining punting my Baby Dog across the room right now, and you should be ashamed.  She was not a natural born killer and does not attack without provocation.  JS, even under the constant threat of a pending MF man punch, trained and coerced her fury.  Now her Skittle brain can only oscillate between extreme love and hate.

Any who, as JS was walking out the door this morning I asked him to unlock the garage so I could finish my laundry, and I followed him outside.  We have a covered, slightly obscured porch between our laundry room/garage and our front door, so it’s a common thing for me to dash across barefoot in my jammies.  JS says he’s not scared to go out there in his under-roo’s with a strategically placed laundry basket, but I have yet to capture any proof and/or post it on FB.

 So I changed over my laundry as JS started up his truck.  Walked back to the front door as JS pulled away from the curb.  Screamed in fright when the GD front door did not open.  Twisted the door knob harder and prayed to Jesus, "It's not REALLY locked!"  Chased JS’s truck down the middle of the street, braless, barefoot, in PJ’s, at 7:30 in the morning.  Knocked on my neighbor’s door to borrow phone while trying not to emit horrible Hobo breath. Neighbor is now convinced we are smelly white trash.  JS giggled and came home to my rescue. 

I shall spend the rest of my morning praying for a less adventurous afternoon AND praying that any footage captured of the above incident is to blurry to post on YouTube.

Summer Time and River Trippin'

I recently was the benefactor of a lovely visit from 3/4 of the Galvatraz Gang and as usual, much hilarity and moderate law breaking ensued.  (Since Tiny and her 1/4 were unable to make the trip, there was some talk of abducting my patient educator and office skeleton ' Leonard Skinnered ' and taking him along as her replacement.  Lucky for Leonard, however, we forgot this ingenuous plan until we were much too far to turn back for him.)

The English Adjunct, Screaming Eagle and Kid showed up early on a stormy Thursday and we set sail for the tiny town of Gruene.  Is was dreary as a mother effer a sunless 70 degrees upon our arrival so we filled our bellies at the Gristmill and shopped for Texas T's, thus allowing the Screaming Eagle a nice wardrobe representing all things Texas for her upcoming deployment to Afghanistan.  After shopping and a lazy paced stroll we were still extremely reluctant to endanger our nether regions by submerging anything of value in the freezing ass river, took a group vote and postponed our float.

 We skedaddled on back to ATX and made a visit to see Master Gardner Gardner Supernova, whom much to our amusement has recently taken up residence on The High Road.  The High Road affords an absolutely breathtaking view of Barton Creek Wilderness Preserve, or maybe it was just some wealthy guy's backyard, hard to tell...  But the company was grand, the view impressive and the GD mosquitoes were off the hook.

 Screaming Eagle took the wheel home because after surviving the ascent up The High Road I had flung myself from the car, kissed the ground and demanded a drink, something strong enough to calm my nerves…  Okay, Okay!  I ADMIT IT!  I am a horrible driver.  Any who...  We ended the evening chilin’ on my front porch, lounging, cackling loudly and mostly making small talk.

 Kid and Screaming Eagle

Day Two saw us bright eyed, bushy tailed and once again on the road.  We made a drive by, grabbed MGG Supernova and headed back toward the river.  Supernova was tricked into riding shotgun and alternated between shocked horror and insulting comments for much of the trip, but alas we all arrived unscathed.  We tubed up, took a dusty ride on a school bus driven by a man hunk of a child nice looking fellow and dropped into the San Marcos River for a marvelous day of leisure and lemonade.

 Our trip ended much too quickly so we soaked our buns a bit longer watching some beautiful people play football and listening to some stellar Texas Country music playing from the tube shack.

After I made a quick porta-potty stop (with moderate assistance as the climb up the bank was treacherous and riddled with a steep set of stairs) again the Screaming Eagle took the helm and guided us safely home.

Even though Supernova was very generous and shared a family sized bag of Cheese Nips for our car ride home, we ordered about $50.00 worth of Chinese food and a valiant effort (at least on my part) was made to eat it all.  The Galvatraz Gang packed up and headed off into the sunset leaving me and Sweet Baby Bella to my horrendous hangover our peaceful napping…  Our at least until JS got home from his hard day at the office.

Until the next time!  Stay thirsty my Frens! 



Epilogue:



JS: Hi, honey. I’m home!

Gator: Ah, Geez. You woke me. Bring a trash can stat.




JS: Holy (Sweet Baby) Jesus! I've never seen so much Chinese food in one place in all my life! What happened?

Gator: We taped an episode of skinny bitches verses food. I won the eatin’ contest.




JS: Did you feed Prada?

Gator: Nah, I forgot. She didn't point at her food bowl like usual.

JS: Hmmm… She's probably recovering slowly after Charlie's Angels Reunion weekend extravaganza.

Gator: Ah, Geez. You woke me again.

Gator Boots

I can’t believe I waited until I was almost (age not to be said out loud) before I got my first pair of bedazzled boots.  If I had only known then, what I know now!

 Over the years I would estimate that I’ve owned at least 8 million pair of boots…  Work boots, polo boots, riding boots, mud boots and once I even made the mistake of buying those hideous Fat Babies…  (JS still refers to them as Chubbies)  But let me introduce you to my new little Frens!

Who knew that just by slipping your toes into such a fine work of art, you are magically transformed into the most amazing Cinderella-esk Dancing Queen?  Who knew I would be the envy of all the less bedazzled booted ladies?  Who knew these beautiful creatures would cause such a stir within my dance loving soul?  And who knew that a simple pair of boots could set off such an intense bout of dance fever?

 Oh yes!  These boots say, “I’m hot and I know it, but I’m remain remarkably humble about said hotness.”  And oddly enough, “Please talk to me from under the shower curtain serving as a bathroom door.”

 Unfortunately, I have yet to find a pair of bedazzled jeans that are just as flattering…  In fact the bedazzled jeans I have encountered thus far make me want to:  A) hurl myself over a cliff or  B) immediately sign up for full body liposuction…  But I remain positive and the search continues.

 For all of you out there that have the urge to buy yourselves some fancy foot wear, do not wait a minute longer.  Go on. Get ‘em.  You’ll be real glad you did.

The Dancing Queen and Beautiful Friends

Red Hot!

Gorgeous Darlings

Work It!

Wait for it....

Wait.....

There is is!

 Gator Grin :)