F.U.D. (Fucked Up Day) by Shadylady

Have you ever had a day the seemed that regardless what you did everything was fucked up? Well, today is my day.

I received an email around two thirty am (eleven thirty pm PST) this morning from a dear friend, Wizzy, asking would I please text page her to wake her up at seven am in the morning. Now, you have to understand, I am on the East coast and she is on the West coast. Of course, I replied, I would be more than happy to wake any one up at that time of the morning whether I was asked to or not. I love making every one as miserable as I am in the mornings.

Needless to say, I did not go to bed until after four thirty am due to having some really heated discussions with some very good friends by way of Yahoo IM. They are on the West coast also, which plays havoc with my time line. Any way, back to the story, finally deciding that I did need to go to work after sleeping maybe two hours, I dressed in my dark blue pin-stripped pantsuit, with an underlying short-sleeved pullover lighter blue blouse. I looked sharp if I may say so myself.

Well, I was running a little late, which is unusual for me so I rushed to dress and get out of the house for work by eight thirty am. I had to stop by the post office to pick up my undelivered Season One Xena DVD's. Nope, couldn't leave them sitting in the Post Office any longer than one day. The Post Office just might take it upon them selves to send my cherished purchase back to Canada from whence it came.

Finally getting to work, I rushed around setting up the rest of my appointments while keeping one eye on the clock in order to make my wake up call. I had a lot of difficulty with my outfit because my blouse felt like it was choking me all the time and I had to pull it down off the front of my neck repeatedly. I made a mental note to myself never to wear that one again.

I got heavily involved in disputing some big figure bills and lost track of time. When I looked up again, it was ten fifteen am and I had missed my call by fifteen minutes. I quickly dropped what I was doing and sent the text page. Still feeling bad, I rolled back over to my desk, crushing half the bills I had scattered on the floor around me and picked up the phone. I called Wizzy, knowing I would hate myself if she failed to get to work on time because of me not doing what I said I would do.

Thank goodness, a very sleepy, gravelly voice answered the phone on the fourth ring before it went into auto answer service. I would have hated to leave a nasty message on the answer phone because had it picked up, I know that is what I would have done. She finally seemed to be waking up enough as she answered me with more than just grunts. I guess you can call "uhh huh" and "mmmmm" answers. I eventually told her to get her lazy ass out of the bed and to go downstairs to make coffee before I agreed to hang up. By the time she walked her bare-footed self on to the cold floor of the kitchen and over to the coffee pot, she would be wide-awake and my job would be done.

Well, damn, I thought it was done. Not an hour passed when I get this text page saying despite all our efforts, she is running late and missed the first bus to the train depot. She followed with the fact that it was snowing and begged me to see if she couldn't stay home from work. Back to the phone, I told her under no circumstances could she stay home if I had to be at work. I called her ass back up and told her to stand there in the cold snow and icy rain until the next bus came. I also asked her to let me know when she got to work.

It is nearly eleven thirty by my time. I am still tugging at my blouse and still cussing out all the papers scattered around my desk when the phone rings. I answer it and yes, you are right if you guessed it was Wizzy. Can you believe this shit??? She missed the train. She MISSED the train. Just had to go buy that package of cigarettes, which by the way, she is coughing in my ear the whole time she is talking to me, and missed the train. Whoooo hooooo. She may not have to worry about not working because they may involuntarily separate her from her job. For her sake, this means her ass just might get fired. I am sitting there cussing under my breath because we can't seem to get her to work even with our combined effort. I pull the front of my blouse out, cussing again because it is still rubbing my neck raw. This time when I pull it out, I notice the damn tag is in the front and I have the goddamn blouse on backward. I sat there fuming at myself for being so stupid while I listen to Wizzy giggling with me about her missing the stupid train. We talked just a few more seconds before I rang off. I got up, closed my office door, and stripped the top half of my body down to my bra. I just hoped with the luck I was having that the housekeeper didn't decide to open my door while I am standing there nearly nude.

Thank heaven for little favors. I got my blouse turned around, redressed and was actually sitting down before someone knocked on my door. Finishing with business, (can you imagine I actually have to do business at work?), I again called Wizzy to see how she was faring and to tell her I fixed the choking blouse issue. We laughed until I nearly fell out of my chair. Damn, while we are talking she gets off the train and watches as her bus pulls away from the depot. She had missed her final bus to work. Oh boy, she may as well go home. She is dead meat at work. But no, we both decide being late was better than not showing up, so she hung up in preparation for catching the next bus.

Finally at twelve fifty six my time, she has made it to work. Shit, if it didn't take us nearly three hours to get her out of bed, on the right bus, on the right train, again on the right bus and finally to work?

Hell, I am going home. This has been way too much effort for me to stay at work and try to do any real work. Moreover, in case you all think this tale is done, Wizzy still has to get back home. God help us all!


F.U.D. (Fucked Up Day) by Wizzy
The Other Side

My day was as any other day...I swear? I am SO NOT a morning person and when Shadylady makes me stay up all night with her, then its even harder for me to get up for work. I finally signed off at about 11:30pm West Coast time and drug my ass to bed. I realized there would be NO way I would be sleeping, so I took my favorite back up, Nightquil (generic for Nyquil). I realized this late at night there would be no way I was goin' to hear my Taz alarm clock screaming in my ear at the crack of dawns ass, so I grabbed my cell phone an' sent out a plea for those on my text message list to help wake my ass up in the morning. No matter ifin' they had to call collect and keep calling back till I answered, I wanted them to call me. Ever tried to text message off a cell phone no bigger then a posty note pad while high on Nightquil? After hittin' send, I snuggled down into my quilts an' drifted off to dream, dreams of naked babes on the beach. I fought the dogs for some room on the super king sized bed only to be growled at for disturbing Wizzer Marie the II. She's bitchier than I am when woken up for no good reason.

What seems liked minutes was more like a few hours when I heard my cell phone ringing. I slammed my hand down on poor Taz's head, shutting him up, and about threw my cell across the room. I did NOT wanna go to school! Ok, work! I flipped it open an' debated on answering, as it did not register just WHO was calling me at OH Dark Thirty AM. I punched the talk button and grunted into the phone and as my luck would have it, it was Shadylady with my wake up call. Like I said, I am NOT a morning person, never have been, and won't ever be one either. It's one of those times you don't want to cross my path. Even a Pit-Bull ain't no match, when I get woke up before I am ready. My eardrums were shattered by a cheerful southern accent. I groaned again. Did I mention people who are that cheerful at 7am should be taken out behind the barn an' shot? The voice was all chipper an' sunny. I growled again and realized this voice from hell was not goin' to go away till I was up and out of bed. Now Shadylady knows me well enough to know I mean her no harm; besides she's on the east coast and I am on the west coast. Therefore, it's not as if I could reach out an' slap the cheerful snot right outta her. I got out of my warm fuzzy nest. Yeah I said fuzzy, as Wizzer Marie II had her ass up in my face when I rolled over to get the phone. I got out of bed and headed down stairs for much needed coffee. Now don't ask me what Shadylady an I talked about as I couldn't rightly tell you. Hell, I could have promised to do her dishes an' laundry for the next ten years an not even realized it. I can carry on a full conversation an' not ever recall what it was I said, when not awake.

Ok so, we hung up after I was able to do more than grunt or groan in the phone. (This is where everything should have been set back anyway, an' I should have called in sick and then gone back to bed). I poured half my coffee in my 44 oz. mug, the rest all over the counter top, swearing under my breath as hot coffee don't feel too nice on bare skin (don't ask where it don't feel good). I pulled the coffee creamer out of the fridge and poured it into the sugar dish. I shouldn't be allowed to be unsupervised at any given time of the morning; Lord knows the mess I can cause. I scooped out the runny, clumpy sugar and dropped it onto a half-empty coffee mug. Someone at work awhile back said I need to get me a wife 'cuz then I will have someone who can stand behind me an' watch my every move to ensure the safety of others around me. I think I should just be locked up till nighttime has arrived! Sorry I got side tracked there.

Anyway, I trudged back upstairs and checked for my morning Good Morning from Chicago. Nope, nothing. So I sat gaggin' on really sweet coffee creamer, mixed with a dash of coffee, tripping over my own lip. I looked at the clock in the right hand corner of my 'puter screen and couldn't see it so I rolled my chair closer an' closer. Finally, with my faced smashed against the screen I realized it was after 8am. Oh-oh, I'm screwed now. I set me coffee mug down on my desk an' tripped over the little dog, Gaia, on my way to the shower. The poor thing squealed like a baby pig as I hurdled on over her. I showered, dressed and headed for the door, wearing a black work shirt and black jeans. I tied my boots after I got back down stairs in the living room. Tied them tight and pulled on my black Carhart jacket on shoved my black leather Stetson down tight on my head and out the door I went. No, I'm not related to Johnny Cash either! ("The man in black" incase ya don't get it).

I slid my way down the wet steps of our town house on to the black-topped sidewalk at a slight jog as I didn't wanna spill what precious coffee I had left in my mug. I was less then a half a block from my bus stop when the bus went right on by me. So there I stood in the torrential freezing rain waiting 15 more minutes for me next bus. Did I mention I hate Tri-Met public transportation (which we all know is only for jerks and lesbians) or is sometimes better known as the "Lesbian Loozer Cruiser"? As I stood in the down-pour I couldn't help try an remember what Shadylady an' I had talked about. I was getting more worried by the minute that I had promised something to her that I would never recall, when I realized I had left my lunch sitting on the table. Looks like I'd not be eating again today and Wizzer Marie II would have a nice hugeass ham 'samwitch'!

Finally, the bus pulled to a stop in front of me and picked me up. As I walked to the back of the "Lesbian Loozer Cruiser," I felt my cell buzzing, telling me I had a new text. Sure 'nuff, it was Shadylady wanting to know ifin' I was on the train as I should be by now. I responded back I missed the first bus. So not a second after I hit send to blast the text message off to her, my phone rang, it was her askin' how in the hell could I miss the bus? What could I say? Not much. I just started giggling. Ya know come to think of it, most of our conversations are nothing more then giggling and a few words in between!

Anyway, I gets to the train stop and got off the bus. As I turned to step out onto 122nd avenue, by now the rain was mixed with heavy snowflakes. I tripped and fell spilling the last of my coffee; down I went, face first into the busiest street in my freaking town.

Several people came to my rescue and had I known what a circus it would be, I would have not let them help me. I was flipped up to be sitting in the cold puddle and then they spun me around one more time so I was now facing the curb. Ever have one of those spinner tops as a kid? Well, that's what I looked like. One had a hold one my right arm and the other had my left. As they helped my fat ass off the wet blacktop, the rain on my Carhart proved to be too slippery. They dropped me, face first, once again into the huge-ass puddle.

My gigantic rack took most of the brunt of the blacktop hittin' me square in the chest. I was sure I'd look like fried fritters when I stood up. I let out a blood curdling war hoop and the poor guys tryin' to help me up stopped and dropped me again. You could have heard a pin drop about that second. Traffic stopped in both directions and everyone was looking at my rendition of an upside down beetle in the middle of the street. I recovered quickly, stood up, and continued across the street as if nothing had happened. Ok, so now I had a slight limp to my soaking wet appearance. Did I ever tell you how much I hate cold weather? I slipped into the store to get a new pack of smokes an when I came out, I looked up in time to see the next train pulling out of the station. Oh yeah, I was screwed. I was beyond late now; I was goin' to be over a half hour behind as the next train was 15 minutes off. If only I had just not run into the Quick Mart on the corner to buy a new pack of smokes, as I knew my other pack would be soaked!

As I stood waiting for the next train in what was now more snow than rain, I looked down to see my jeans ripped at the knees, blood dripping down the one knee that had a gash the size of Texas. Could this day get any worse? Oh yeah, it would 'cuz my foot was hurting something awful. I looked down at my feet, and that's when I noticed it; me work boots did not match! It seems I had ONE work boot on and ONE dress boot on. Hey, come on their both black. The only difference is one lace all the way up and the other has those clippie things on the sides instead of eyeholes. One boot was my Caterpillar dress boot and the other my Wolverine work boot. It was too far to go home now I'd have to deal with it. I was never so happy to see the train limbering (lumbering) in to stop in front of me.

I limped me way onto the warm train an' went to sit down when this old blue haired lady glared at me. Guess I was a sight to see, soaked head to toe, blood could be seen through the ripped jeans, which were now a wet and dripping mess. Looks like she didn't want me sittin' next to her. She glared at me; I growled back an' she gave up both seats to me. As she walked away, I heard a putter coming from under her pup tent size dress. Her panty hose swelled up making the tent-size dress look ever larger. She reminded me of a hot air balloon as she turned to find a seat across from me. I smiled to myself for the first time in over two hours until I sat down where the fumes of a green haze over took me. My eyes started to water and I thought for sure I'd be losing what little coffee I did get to drink. I think the old bitch shit her pants as she walked away.

While I waited for the train to get to me next stop, I decided to call Shadylady back an' tell her I had missed the train as well. Ok, so I left out the WWF wrestling match in the middle of the street as well as my boots being different. I swear I'd kill the next person who woke me ass up to make me go to work from that second on! As she answered, I started giggling. I could not help but think of how my day was goin' so far. As we sorta talked, if you could call our conversations talking, I realized the train was stopping at my next stop and I told her I had to go. I stepped off the train only to see the last remaining bus I needed to get to work pulling away from the curb. I let out a whistle. Now I used to call my horses in from the back 80 acres, so yes I can shatter ears with my whistle. He looked right at me as the light he was stopped at turned green and then he gunned the bus out into traffic and roared out of my sight. I did not know if I should sit down and cry or laugh. Well even in the worst situations I can find some humor, I started to laugh, not one of those giggles I normally get but a full out wild, gone crazy and be back in a week, lost your freaking mind, laughs. As I gained me composure, I looked around - not one person would look at me but moved in a hurried walk away from me if I got to close to them.

Once again, I stood in poring rain wishing I had just called in sick like I had thought about in the first place. Being in this rain-snow mixed mess was so not helping the nasty ass cold I had been fighting for the last three weeks! I felt my phone ring again an' sure 'nuff, it was Shadylady. As the next bus pulled up, I told her to wait a second, as I'd be damned ifin this one would go right on by me. I stepped out in to the middle of the street an' waited for the bus to stop in front of me. I saw the blonde bus driver, who I would normally sit an drool over all the way to work, shake her head as I got on her bus and showed her the bloody wet bus pass I had in my hand. I then told Shadylady I was on the final bus to work! That's when she told me about her shirt. Well I started giggling an' could not stop this time. I managed to choke out my good byes to my dearest friend and sat there giggling like a banshee. Not one person would look in my direction while the bus dropped me off one block from work. Now this is a normal day for me in most ways, but what's sad is I have to make a return trip the same way I had just come from to get home! Lord knows what will happen!

I walked into to work an' texted Shadylady that I had finally made it. She sent one back telling me to have a good day! Boy little did she know how my day had started out! SO as you read this please pray for a SAFE return home tonight! As my poor beaten body won't take much more abuse! And ifin your thinkin I'm a klutz...yeah, ur right I am, but I'll bet you a pay check you'd laugh and giggle and carry on if you knew me and not just the words I write!!!! Ask Shadylady! She knows everything!


Dog Days by Shadylady

Another day has passed and the adventures in real life continue. The alarm went off at dawn's crack. It was way too early for Wizzy to be up yet so I was on my own for several hours. As I woke up this morning and dressed, ready to go to work, I suddenly decided, its Friday why work an additional day. I could use it to run around and take care of some issues at the courthouse concerning my taxes and an escrow account (bastardly things). As I was getting ready to leave, my precious angels (my two miniature pinchers) looked at me with their pitiful eyes and begged to go riding with me. Well, being a big pushover, I invited them along.

First mistake, DO NOT take dogs riding after they have just eaten breakfast. We were traveling along without any issues, enjoying the ride, when I was suddenly overcome by the most nauseous odor you can imagine. I looked to my right and saw my black and tan pup grinning at me, yes, grinning at me as a big green billow of gas seemed to float up from the back of his body. He was killing me. I believe that dogs must not have the same sense of smell as we do.

Mistake number two. Never let the window down when you have two live wire dogs in the car with you. I could no longer stand the fumes so I cracked my window to let the air circulate and allow me to take breaths again. It must have been the long awaited signal for my babies. I no sooner had it down by two inches than my lap was filled with squirming dogs trying to hang out a window that was down only low enough that maybe their tongues could have been pushed out the crack. I am still trying to drive with a lap full of dog, hoping that my knees can hold the steering steady on the right side of the road as I swipe my lap clean of animals. No quicker would I get one out then the other would be back in. Ahh Haaaa!!! I cracked the window on the back seat, and lo and behold, both of them dashed out of my lap to fight over who was going to stand on the armrest in order to get closest to the window. Well, thank God, they were at least out of my lap!

My journey to the courthouse continued as I took a soothing breath while I knocked the dog hairs off my black slacks. Suddenly, I hear the back window crank up. One of the damn dogs has stepped on the automatic button and has managed to lower the window to where both of them can hang the upper parts of their bodies out the window. Well, shit, that won't do at all. I find a place to pull off the road in order to get them settled before they fall out onto the highway. Rescue done, I let the window back up and this time set the lock so that only a crack remains and my devil dogs can't lower it anymore.

It must have taken all the fun out of it because I no sooner started the car, than they both flopped over on their sides, dead asleep. Thank goodness for little favors. I'm thinking to myself that this just may be their last ride with me all alone in the car.

Finally reaching the courthouse, I tentatively get out of the car, making sure my babies are firmly entrapped within the confines of the car. All looks good. The windows are cracked, no power on and I have safely locked them in.

It took me no longer than ten minutes to complete the work on my taxes, which worked out well since my pups were with me. I headed back to the car. Do you know what dogs can do in ten minutes? Just think about it for a minute. Thank goodness, they did not tear up any part of the car itself.

Mistake number three. Never leave two dogs unaccompanied for any length of time inside a locked car even when the weather is extremely cool and comfortable. Well, I had, prior to going into the courthouse, an eight and half inch by eleven-inch notepad lying on the front seat. When I got back, I had a seat and floorboard filled with confetti from what was once my notepad. Teeny, tiny, itty, bitty, pieces of paper covered nearly every surface of the seat and floor. It looked like a blizzard had been set loose inside my car. All that in less than ten minutes! Who says I need to buy a new paper shredder? I just need to channel that function to them.

I start to open the door and they sit so very quietly, looking out at me innocently as if to say, "See, look how good we have been." As I reach for the door handle, I realize that my windows appear to have been grossly slimed from the inside of the car. Nose and snot trails run all over the windows. Up and down, side to side and some very clear imprints of their tiny noses are right on the pane itself. Well heck. I didn't intend to spend the morning cleaning my car, but I guess that is what I get for giving in to the pitiful pleading look in my babies eyes.

OK, Ok, I have to remember, after all, these are just animals and not human. Therefore, it isn't right for me to expect that they behave perfectly, especially since I FAILED to explain the rules to them. I climbed into the car and was greeted as if I had been gone for ten years instead of ten minutes. They wiggled and loved me with their wet little tongues and pushed against each other to climb into my lap for a little more attention before we started back home. Damn, how can I stay mad at them when all they want to do is love and be loved?

Okay, my fault they don't behave. I have been to obedience training on three separate occasions in the last two years. I have failed every single time. My babies pass but I am a miserable failure. I just can't seem to discipline them the way I need to. So recognizing how sweet and loving they are, I decided to stop and get them a hotdog on the way home. Before you gasp, no they can't eat in the car and have to wait till we get home. Anyhow, as soon as I pull into the drive-in window line, they both start wiggling like crazy. Humm, must be taking them too frequently if they recognize the car lane.

Anyhow, I place my order for two plain hotdogs without buns. I had to repeat my order five times before the person on the other end of the mike understood that I just wanted naked hotdogs. As I drove on up to the window, I let my window down to pay for the meal. RUSH!!!!! Both boys charged into my lap and hung out the window as far as they could to see what the person inside the building was doing. They could smell the food cooking and their little tongues kept whipping in and out in anticipation of getting some kind of treat. The person tentatively lifted the bag over their heads as he reached out to hand me my purchase. Both little heads followed the movement of the bag. I saw my red colored dog flick out his tongue and lick the person's hand as it passed over his head. Oh well, they ARE supposed to wash their hands frequently. If not a little doggie drool never hurt anyone.

I set the bag on the floor in the middle of all the confetti. My babies charge out of my lap and position themselves on the seat next to me, keeping a watchful eye on the bag. Not one of them moved from their constant vigilance of the hotdogs all the way home. Talk about perfect boys. Had I known that was all it took to make them behave, I would have carried hotdogs with me at the beginning. Heck, maybe that is what I will take as a treat when I go through my fourth training session with them. Who knows maybe I will pass this time around.

Is there a lesson to be learned in all this? Heck yes, regardless how much they plead, beg, cry, whine, lick my hands, give me puppy kisses, I'll remember to take along a bribe because there is no way in heaven I can resist my babies when they beg.


Dog Days - Continuing Tails by Wizzy

Another day has passed and the adventures in real life continue. The alarm went off at dawn's crack. By now, Shadylady has been up and at it for hours, now me...I sleep as late as possible as you've already figured out?derailed again. I have this Queensland Blue Heeler/Australian Shepard (who has no idea she is a dog) I adopted from the pound over 4 years ago now and there's not a day goes by that I don't threaten her to haul her back to where I got her from! Now wait, before you get your Amazon feathers all in a ruffle, lemme esplain...When I got her she was abused and wouldn't even bark; she would hide from her own shadow. Well I taught her all the important things in life, such as picking on Gaia, the snotty nose cocker spaniel, chasing cats all the way, to her love of cheese. Anyways, I was once again in a hurry to go out the door and for the life of me I couldn't find me house keys nor me glasses. So I knew WHO had them, as you see she hides things on me when she is mad at me. You think she'd chew up me shoes (at least then Id have an excuse to buy another new pair!). BUT NO, she hides things I need! I begged and pleaded with her to return them.

Let me backtrack here just a little, the week that I got her, I corralled her in the kitchen.
Well, not a week went by an' she was big enough to escape! SO, while both of us were gone she, decided to play romper room time?When I walked in the door, much to my surprise, she greeted me tail wagging an all happy to see her momma. Yeah well THAT lasted about two seconds as Granny was right behind me, when I noticed the mess. I shut the door to stop her from coming up the steps into the house anymore then (than) she was. I told her she was NOT goin' to like what she saw but that I would clean it up!

I opened the door again an' Granny walked in. Now all I can do by this time is giggle and laugh and that sure did not help matters any! I watched, as she silently went up stairs not sayin' a word to me. Now she was against me getting a dog to begin with, an' this sure wasn't helping my case! I picked up Wizzer an' dropped her back in the kitchen and proceeded to haul out two bags of garbage the tiny mutt had destroyed! I discovered the two plastic fish tank lamps (that I had bought for Gaia, she's retarded I'm sure of it as she sat an watched these plastic fish go up and down in the bubbles for HOURS!) had been knocked over on my leather couch. Not only that, but the plastic was chewed up as well!

By know I am in hysterics with laughter; how can one 11 pound puppy do this much damage in less then than the half hour we had been gone? So, I cleaned up the mess and asked Granny to drive me up to the store an buy a kennel for her. No, not for Granny for the dog, you Amazon! By the time we had gotten back, she had once again got out. This time she chewed up the cushions on my leather couch. There were pieces of foam everywhere. Look like a blizzard had hit inside the house. A fuming Granny once again went up stairs (upstairs), not sayin' a word to my laughing. Wizzer had never pottied in the house but she sure could destroy one in no time at all.

Now let me tell you, Wizzer is as human as most people. She has a very limited vocabulary but knows jus' how to use it. I only gots to ask Wizzer, "Where's douche bag?" an Wizzer will run over lay her head on Granny's lap and howl for all she's worth. Talk about making a person mad, you ever seen a really ripe tomato, well that is what Granny looks like when Wizzer starts in after hearing me ask for douche bag.

Another thing Wizzer knows is exactly what an empty peanut butter jar means. My Mom sends me her empties cause she knows I give them to Wizzer to clean out. You know how Mom's are, they gots to take care of their grandchildren and Wizzer is the only one she is getting from me. Anyhoo, I took the last ones I got and sat them on my 'puter table and forgot all about them; but not Wizzer. She put that "staring dog eye" on that jar and didn't move for hours. I finally noticed her but it was late at night, near to 4 am and too late for her snack. I told her no, which caused her to fly from my room. I wonder what bug crawled up her butt. I was soon to know. I heard her nails hitting the stairs and she screeched as she peeled around the corner back into my room. She marched over to my 'puter table, stared once more at that jar, and just as nice as you please, opened her mouth and let my reading glasses drop onto the table. What could I do but give her the jar? Damn dog, holding me hostage for my glasses. I tried and tried to get her to bring my truck keys but to this day, they are still hidden.

Now, I have a big assed bed that I sleeps in when I finally hits the sack. Most nights, it's a fight to have any room. Wizzer knows that is her bed and that mine must be on that pile of blankets tossed over in the corner that used to be the dog bed. I finally push her 90 plus pounds out of my way to where I can at least sleep on the very edge of the bed. She gets her revenge. Not a morning goes by that I don't wake up with her hairy ass lying right up against my face. That is NOT an image you wants to be seeing first thing every morning!!

Did I mention her hearing? Damn if I had hers, I could be a spy. It don't matter how quiet I try to be when I am sneaking around trying to eat a candy bar, all I gots to do is tear one single corner on that candy bar and she is charging into the room, knocking me off my chair to get her bite of the candy. So yes, she may be just a little spoiled. But you know what, there isn't another creature alive that will love you for who you are and not expect anything out of you but to love them in return.

So my Wizzer, is more than just a dog. She is my companion. The only thing that I have to worry about is I know for sure one of these nights I am gonna hear her and Gaia sneaking out the front door. The next thing I'll hear will be the cranking of Granny's truck as Wizzer pulls those hidden keys out and makes good her escape to go hot diggity dogging around town. SO, if one of these nights you look over into the truck that is pulled up next to you and see some dog ass ugly critters in the vehicle next to you, it just may be Wizzer and Gaia. Toot your horn and give them a high five and they'll follow you anywhere.


Dress for Success by Shadylady

I got this strange phone call on Saturday, shortly after noon, from Wizzy. Now, let me back up, it isn't fair to really call her calls strange because they are all the same caliber so does that make her normal and the rest of us strange? Well, anyway, I get this call and have a lot of difficulty understanding who is calling because of the tremendous amount of giggling that is occurring when I say hello. I wonder what in the hell sounded so funny by just saying hello but then I began to recognize that demonic giggle.

Wizzer Marie is on the other end of my phone. I repeat myself several times before getting her attention. She takes several deep breaths in an attempt to calm herself down and all that did was give her enough air to start giggling all over again. After holding the line for at least 3 more minutes, she finally calms down to tell me why she has called.

Here is the deal. Her mama has sent her some wonderful new spandex bras that feel like heaven against the skin. Well, this morning before most humans are awake, Wizzy decides she is going to wear one to work so that she can be relaxed. After her shower, she puts on her new bra and realizes that she is going to be running late as usual based on our earlier story. She quickly puts on the rest of her clothes and rushes to get her roommate out of bed to haul her ass to work. She manages to make it on time by the sheer driving of her roommate and the odd number of red lights they just may have coasted through. OK, so they ran several red lights on the way to work.

Anyhow, Wizzy is working away when she begins to feel a great discomfort along her chest wall where she has some old scar tissue from a previous injury (did I tell you she is very accident prone yet?). She feels her new bra rubbing up and down against the scar causing incredible pain to the sensitive area. What is she to do? Stay as she is and be miserable the other seven hours she has left to work, or go do something about it?

Well, Wizzy is a creature of comfort so the choice was obvious. She snuck off to the bathroom to remove the offending bra. She quickly slipped it off then replaced her t-shirt. Looking in the mirror, she could do nothing but laugh. Where her once pert breasts had been sitting up in the center, hung two huge ass pear shaped lumps under her shirt. She swears they hung nearly to her navel but I would have to see that to believe it. Maybe her nipples pointed to her navel.

She tucks the offending bra into her back pocket; not realizing one of the straps is hanging out. She walks back into the employee lounge, past a group of the men that she works with. One of them sees the strap hanging out of her pocket and hollers for all to hear, "Hey, Wiz, what's that thing hanging out of your pocket?" She quickly reaches back and stuffs it into the pocket, then turns to the offending male, shoots him a bird and says "fucking none of your business" and makes her way back to her counter.

Her day continues better except for the fact with every move she makes her breasts shift and wiggle like ever changing dunes of sand. While she was bending over adding dye to a vat of paint her breasts again made themselves known by very quickly dropping forward so that the nipples just touched the top of the paint and dye in the vat. Standing up and cussing up a storm, Wizzy looks down at her chest. What does she see but the perfect imprint of her two nipples on the front of her shirt in bright safety blue paint. Whoo hooo, won't the boys have fun with this! She looks around and can find nothing to cover it up but a god-awful orange colored apron that they are supposed to wear when waiting on customers. No one ever wears it because it makes them look like fucking fairies. However, today, Wizzy would make the exception. It was either look like a fairy or have all the guys know just what her nipples looked like. Not much decision making here.

Every employee on duty walked up to her to find out what possessed her to don the hated apron. No one ever got close enough to ask their question. As soon as they got within eye range, Wizzy narrowed her eyes and shot them a sinister look that said "come closer, ask me a stupid question, you die." Instead of finding out what was going on, each one of them made a hasty retreat back to their own area. The apron would remain a mystery.

To this day, no one had the nerve to as Wizzy why she wore that apron home. Its bright orange color shone like a beacon from beneath her jacket as she climbed on the bus headed for the train station. Only one time did any one dare to ask question after that Saturday and it was when the apron reappeared at work and some poor new employee wanted to know what was the meaning of the two blue marks at chest level on the inside of the apron. Dead silence occurred, no one presumed to give an answer. Wizzy stared around the counter, daring anyone to even open their mouths. Not getting an answer, the newbie simply dropped his question, not caring what the answer was anyway.

Now where is the offending bra? Last time I heard it was hanging from the rear view mirror of her roommate's truck.


Dress for Success - The Other Side by Wizzy

Once again, I feel the need to clarify MY side of this one?

As you've read, I am not a morning kid. Moreover, by the time ur done reading these faux stories you'll see the truth in them! I am always quick to poke fun at myself, it makes people laugh an smile and realize maybe their day wasn't as bad as they thought it was?yeah well just once I'd love to have a "normal" day like everyone else, but I think I'm too much like my mother for that. Speaking of my mother, gotta love her, she had sent me some new bras 'cuz I had had surgery a while back (ribs on the grill anyone?) and I have never worn one of those normal bras anyway. So, I got derailed there, but it will help ya get the drift of this story.

Anyway, I once again was running late after almost an all nighter on yahpoop (yahoo) IM. I woke with a start, Wizzer Marie II's ass in my face as normal. I jumped outta bed grabbed my work clothes an' hustled my sleepy body into a hot shower. I dressed in a hurry pullin' on one of the new bras mom sent me not thinkin' twice about it. I pulled on a wrinkled work shirt, my black jeans covered in dog hair; damn dog needs to shave more often. And of course, my MATCHING work boots. I yelled for my roomie to get up an' help me get to work on time.

Out of the house we flew, by now that bra was startin' to dig into the tender scar I have running along my right shoulder blade. I cursed the doctor who split me open like a rag doll worse then Wizzer Marie II's razor sharp teeth. All the way to work, I sat squirming in the trucks bucket seat, while my roomie ran every other stop light she passed through. I slid around in my seat not only from discomfort, but from the way she turned that truck up on two wheels to make a corner before the train held us up. Little did I know that Granny could drive that fast! Now by the time I got to work, I was not only in a foul mood due to having little or no sleep, but the new bra was killin' me. It wasn't cut like the other ones I always wear; this one rode right on top of a fresh scar. It was makin' me very spiteful an' a little on the tense side.

Anywhoo, I gets to work an jump outta the truck an yanked my backpack from the back seat only to shut the waist strap in the door and as my roomie roared away it was ripped outta my hands an drug down the street. She had good sense to stop or maybe it was my screaming at the top of my lungs at her? Well after rescuing my worldly goods, I slung the backpack over my left shoulder an moaned as the bra pulled tighter against my right shoulder. I wasn't goin' to last much longer with it on. However, Saturdays are retail hell in my store. Moreover, of course I had to look professional, which to me is an unwrinkled shirt an' semi clean jeans with no paint or dog hair on them.

I walked in, set my backpack in the cubbyhole where I stash all my stuff so I can keep an eye on it and turned to Kirsten an' asked if she ever had problems with bras. Now, she is pregnant an we all know what happens when you're pregnant, she looked at me an' grinned, so I explained to her I had this one on an it was killin' me. Well the doors were open an' we were ready for business, I had no time to do a think about my bra. I continued to work, slinging paint and bitched the whole time. After an hour I couldn't stand it any longer I rushed back to the break room grabbed a pair of scissors an' snuck in the bathroom. I pulled off my work shirt an turned to cut the strap off 'cuz I knew there would be no way of slippin' it over my head like I had put it on. So I reached up an' cut the shoulder strap an the side piece. An' pulled it off the shoulder. Talk about a relief. Only to realize I was hanging very low, I think the huge monstrosities were resting in the sink.

What could I do? I did the one thing I could think of, I reached inside my bright ass orange apron an' pulled out two number 2 pencils. I proceeded to roll them up in the pencil and looked around for some tape. Well, hell, THAT wasn't gonna work? so I did the next best thing, I dug once again into my apron pockets and found two paper clips, well you get the idea. Ifin I need to explain it something's wrong an' you should seek medical treatment, I can recommend a few good nurses I know!

I shoved the nasty ass thing in my back pocket, pulled on my shirt an' headed back to the break room. Well as I walked in one of the smart asses I work with had over heard my conversation with Kirsten. He pipes up:

"Hey Wizzy, what's that in your back pocket?"

"Your little sister, jerkoff." I snapped back while shoving the offending bra deeper in my back pocket.

I headed back to work. Well as the day wore on, we got really busy and I don't know about you but when sporting the rack I carry (my brother says I'm just like my mom in that way), they tend to get in the way. Now working in a paint store you can help but get paint on you. Well I should say to some degree anyway. But, as you've read so far, I NEVER do anything half assed! SO, here I am slinging paint by the gallons when all of a sudden I hear this giggling coming from the other side of the tint counter. JR is now in stitches laughing at me. I still at this point have no clue. Until I looked down, seems like the paper clips had slipped off. The pencils lay at my feet, must have fallen out of my un-tucked shirt. Note to self here...USE BIGGER PAPER CLIPS NEXT TIME, DORKWAD? Ok so anyways, there I am hanging out like an old cow, but to top it off I had drug both boobs through a gallon of safety blue paint! Imagine a wet T-shirt contest, only this was paint.

It don't dry like water does, this shit takes HOURS to dry! So there I was looking like I had just been mauled by Poppa Smurf, what could I do? This was so not my week! I looked over at JR an' wiggled my nasty ass blue boobs at him. I looked around the only thing I could find to change into was those Gods awful aprons. So there I was the rest of the day with Smurf-blue boobs and an orange apron!

Closing time! I was thankful my ever-lovin roomie was on time to pick me up! I hastily said good-bye to the crew as I rushed out the door an' jumped into the truck. She took one look at me an' burst out in laughter...well what could I do? I reached in my back pocket an I hung the sumbitchin' bra on her review mirror! Where it stayed for the nice an' quiet ride home!

So, I dedicate this one to my mom, as I am finding more and more everyday I am just like her in a lot of ways and yes, this would be something she might have done or HAS done! I Love you anyway mom!!!!!!! Even ifin you're just like me! Heheheee.


Wizzy44tc@yahoo.com or the_shadylady_629@yahoo.com

Copyright © 2003 by Shadylady & Wizzy? All Rights Reserved.