Hector the Hellion

Some of you may remember a while back that I was perusing ads for a used truck.  Well, a couple months ago, I got a truck, it’s not much, but it’s a truck, and I like it.

Hector (y’all know I name everything) is an older truck, but for the most part, he’s a go-getter.  I like him.  I want to keep him.

But there’s a problem.

It turns out; Hector likes the people who live where I keep my horses far better than me.  Seriously, that plucky little truck has a personality, and that personality doesn’t like me, not one bit.

Okay, so let me explain.

Where the horses are currently at (which is changing, I’m moving them somewhere new tomorrow) you have to go up this rather steep hill.  Hector, being a small truck, doesn’t care for hills too much, but he makes it up there ok.  So every day, we climb up the hill to go see Stetson and Cheyenne.

FOUR times now, while trying to go back down that hill, Hector has died on me, the ONLY times he has ever died, has been in front of these people’s house.

The first time it happened, I was headed to “the boy’s” house to hang out with some friends and celebrate MY birthday.  Well, let’s be fair, our birthdays are nine days apart, so technically OUR birthday, but this post is about ME, not him!

As we got to the hill, just as we started to go down, Hector said “Nope!” and died, and we coasted to the bottom of the hill and stopped at the stop sign.  I tried everything I knew to get him to start back up again, but nothing would work, I finally had to call for a rescue party.

The second time it happened the exact same way, we started down the hill, Hector said “Heck no!” died, and we left him at the bottom of the hill.

The last two times, however, Hector has given up subtlety for a more in-your-face approach.  The third time this happened, I was passing the house, because since the barn burned down, we’ve been keeping the horses at a neighbor’s house down the street.  As soon as we passed the house, Hector started throwing a hissy fit, folded his arms, stuck out his bottom lip, and stomped his feet until he finally just shut down all together and came to a rest directly in front of the house he loves so much.

Last night, we made it fine past the house, got the horses fed and started home.  As soon as the house came into view, what do you think Hector did?

So, I’m apparently the owner of a very spoiled rotten truck that is not willing to share his love with anyone else.  I don’t know what his obsession is with this house but I know one thing…

When Hector finally dies for real, I’m digging a giant hole and burying him in their back yard…it’s the respectful thing to do.

The Ghetto Queens (and Kings) Have Invaded Wal-Mart (Shocker! I know!)

I went to Wal-mart today at lunch.  My trips to Wal-Mart, this one in particular, are never devoid interesting situations.

I found a parking spot rather quickly, pulled in and turned the truck off.  Just before I started to get out, something caught my eye.  The car in front of me was backing out of its parking space.  Nothing exciting about that, except I noticed that, after they had emptied their shopping cart, they failed to replace it in those shopping cart return thingies(or at the very minimum move it to the side), and left it sitting directly behind their vehicle.  As they backed up, the cart was directly in their path.

I tried to honk my horn but, as it turns out, my poor little truck is just as ghetto as the neighborhood this Wal-Mart is in, and the horn doesn’t work.  So I watched helplessly, as the car backed into the cart.  He noticed it automatically, he stopped, looked in his rearview mirror and then shrugged his shoulders.

Now, any normal human being would calmly step out of their car, go behind it, and move the cart. 

Not this guy.

He proceeded to “bump” the cart with the back end of his car.  He would bump it, and then check his rearview mirror, then look around to see if anyone was watching…obviously I was invisible.  Then he would bump it again.  After about 20 bumps, the cart was now out in the middle of the parking lot.  Now he had to pull forward, only problem was…you guessed it…shopping cart in his way.  So, what do you think he did? Well, let me just say he didn’t get out of the car and move the cart.

As I was shaking my head and getting out of the truck, a man and a young boy, probably about 4 years old were walking towards the store.  I managed to overhear a brief conversation among the two.

Little Boy: (says something inaudible)

Man: Hell Naw!

Little Boy: What’s a Helnaw?

I laughed to myself, someone obviously learned a new word today.

Finally, I made my way in the store.  At the back of the store, I happened upon a confrontation between a lady and a gentleman who couldn’t speak English.

It started out as a joke.  The man had a baby in the cart and a package of diapers. 

Lady: You’re getting your baby some diapers?  You wanna buy my baby some diapers too?

Man: (again, he obviously isn’t fluent in English, but he tries to be nice) Oh? Yes, so?

Lady: Yes, so?  Did you just say yes, so?  Are you trying to say my baby isn’t good enough for pampers?

At this point the poor man starts backing away, he has no clue what the lady is saying but anyone can tell by the evil glare that she’s about to rip his head in two.  I don’t know how that one turned up, because I made it a point to get out of there quickly….I don’t like confrontations.  Sorry sir, you can call me a bad human being later if you like.

I finally made my way up to the front and started to check out.  Someone came up behind me in line, but I didn’t pay too much attention to it until I heard:

“Helnaw! Helnaw! Helnaw!”

I laughed to myself and went out to the truck, got in, and looked up just in time to see a car pulling in the spot in front of me…or…well…trying to, they had to get out of the car and move the shopping cart first. 

I Guess I Just Wasn’t Meant to Be a World Champion Slam Dunker

It’s a short one today!  You’re welcome!

 

I got a case of the hiccups today and it made me think of when I was younger, my mom used to tell me that it meant I was growing.  I, of course, being a fairly impressionable youngster believed her, why would mom lie to me?  When I was little, I was fairly tall for my age. I always got to stand on the back row in class pictures, and was one of the taller kids in my class.  I thought that was cool, so I always welcomed a good case of the hiccups.  However, I apparently quit getting them around 6th grade, because I’ve pretty much been the height that I am now since then.  Conclusion, I’m not overly tall for an adult, not short, but certainly not winning and “tallest woman” world records.

It got me to thinking though, about all of the funny stories that we hear growing up.  Where do these “wives tales” come from, and why do we pass them on from generation to generation, forcing our young to believe they are true, only to have them thrown into reality when they grow up?

No wonder the human race is so messed up!  Everything we learn as a child is based on lies and superstition!

Please Don’t Poke the Ghetto Queen

There are all types of people in this world, it’s what makes life so interesting.  That being said, when you come into contact with, or witness an altercation with one of those less-than-desirable types, it makes you sit back and think.

I decided to go out for lunch today, I normally bring my lunch or eat something in the work fridge, but considering it’s pay day, and I haven’t had “bad for me fast food” in quite awhile, I decided to make a run for one of my favorite taco places. 

My first interaction with the “ghetto queen” happened as soon as I was trying to pull in the parking lot.  She was coming from the oppsosite direction, and rather than wait for me to turn since I had the right of way, she whipped in front of me causing me to slam on my brakes. 

I have a huge coke stain in my floorboard now…thanks ghetto queen.

Anyways, as I pulled through the drive-thru, she, of course, was in front of me.  There was no one in line so she was the only one in front of me.  She eased up to the speaker box and stopped about ten feet short of it, and sat, and sat, and sat.  She finally pulled closer to where it would trigger the person inside to take her order.

Problem was, she still had her window rolled up.  We sat there endlessly, her window up and I could hear the speaker box continuously persist, “Please order when ready…..please order when ready…..hello???….I can take your order when you are ready…”  Finally, she rolled her window down and screamed at the top of her lungs.  Seriously, I’m pretty sure they heard her in the next county.

“Hey! Umm…..yeah…ummm, can I  ummmm….get…ummm…three tacos, with lots of hot sauce?”

“will that be it?”

“Yeah, that’s it…and I also need a taco salad with ranch”

Someone obviously doesn’t comprehend what “Yeah, that’s it” means.

“I’m sorry, we don’t have ranch”

“What?  Oh whatever, just give me another taco.”

“Okay, that will be $XX.XX”

“Did you get the hot sauce?”

“Yes ma’am, lots of hot sauce.”

She finally pulls up and I place my order.  After finishing my order, I pulled up behind her, window still down so I could hear the entire conversation.

The cashier handed her a bag of food, and immediately, without looking in the bag, ghetto queen retorts:

“I TOLD you lots of hot sauce!  There ain’t no damn hot sauce in here.  How hard is it to understand?  LOTS OF HOT SAUCE!!!”

“Ma’am, I put two hand fulls of hot sauce in the bag, are you sure it’s not there?”

“Don’t get sassy with me! Give me more hot sauce.”

The girl gives her another generous handful of hot sauce.

“That’s not enough…more!”

“Ma’am, I’ve already given you way more than I’m supposed to, if you want more you’ll have to pay for it.”

Wrong answer.

“Like hell I do!  I’m not paying for nothing!”

At this point, she swings open her door, banging it on the drive thru window.  She comes out of the car, arms flailing.  I couldn’t help but notice she was in pajamas and house shoes.

“Ma’am, I can’t give you anymore hot sauce, if you would like to discuss this with my manager, please pull forward so we can assist other customers.”

At this point she turns and looks at me.  Great…how the heck did I get drug into this one?

She turns her attention back to the cashier. 

“I ain’t going nowhere until you give me some hot sauce.”

The girl finally gives in and hands her another handful, hoping it will appease the lady.

“What is wrong with you?  When I say A LOT of hot sauce, I want A LOT.”

Wait a minute….so this woman has already been given about 300 packets of hot sauce, for her FOUR tacos, and it’s not enough?

At this point, she starts throwing a classic temper tantrum, arms flailing, feet stomping, the whole thing. 

“Whatever, I’m just gonna go inside and get my OWN hot sauce!  F this!”

Finally the manager came out, and told her that he would give her one more handful of hot sauce and then she needed to leave.  I’m not sure what else was said between the two, but she finally agreed to the arrangement.   But not before one final jab at the cashier:

“What is wrong with people these days?  Can’t get no damn good customer service any damn place I go!”

Have you ever stopped to think that if you get bad customer service EVERYWHERE you go, maybe it’s because you’re a bad customer?  Obviously if you treat everyone like you did this poor girl, you’re bound to get crappy service from time to time.

Whatever, she finally pulled out of my way, I paid for my food, and was on my way again, only to find that, sitting at the exit was…..you guessed it…ghetto queen.  I sat in my car behind her for some time as I watched as absolutely no cars came from any direction.  I finally just tried to go around her, which obviously pissed her off because she rolled her window down and threw a handful of hot sauce packets at me….well, at least now we know what she needed all that hot sauce for. 

 

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It’s Okay Guys, Now You’ll Understand

As a member of the female gender, I understand that we tend to do strange things that men don’t understand.  Heck, I don’t get it half the time!  But that doesn’t really matter, we do these things and we are proud of them.  So, since I have nothing better to do today, I thought I would explain some of the things seem to perplex men about women.

Why do you guys always go to the bathroom together?

It’s obvious isn’t it?  We don’t want to be murdered.  Women know that the one time they enter a strange bathroom alone, will be the one time that Michael Myers will be hanging out in the stall, waiting for them.  Remember the phrase “safety in numbers?” well, that’s exactly what we are exercising…because as long as you can run faster than your friends, you’re doing just fine.

Why do women take so long to get ready?

I suppose I could make something up and tell you it’s because we care about what men think of us, and want to look perfect for our guy when we go out…but that has nothing to do with it.  The fact is, we…well…I don’t know.

Why do women always fall for the ‘your air filter needs changed’ trick at Valvoline Instant Oil Change?

Have you seen the guy that is in charge of relaying this information?  That short, fat, bald headed dude with the “Duck Dynasty” style beard is quite frightening.  By all means, please change that baby, if that’s what it takes to get you to quit breathing down my throat…seriously…breathmints dude!

Why do you need so many shoes?

So…this one’s difficult for me to answer, because I literally have TWO pairs of shoes…that’s it.  My boots and my tennis shoes.  So…good luck figuring this one out!

Are you really so helpless that you can’t change your own tire?

I’m proving to not be a very valid resource….Ummm….I can change a tire just as well as any man!  Furthermore, how come in the horror movies, when the chick gets a flat tire, she opts to walk 500 miles down the road in 12 inch heels, instead of sitting in the car and waiting for help to arrive?  Better yet…yank that spare tire out, jack the car up, and replace that baby yourself…it really doesn’t take much more than common sense to figure it out!

6 inch heels? What the heck?

That’s just Lady Gaga. We don’t claim her as one of us.


Why is your purse so heavy?

You don’t want the answer to this.  Because if you knew, we would have to kill you…or better yet, just force you to carry our purses around all day.

Why do I find your hair EVERYWHERE?
That’s a fair question….I don’t know the answer, but I seriously don’t understand how I’m not bald.  The rate at which hairs escape my crazy mane fascinates me.

Why do women shave their legs?

Excuse me? Umm….I’m pretty sure that has something to with you guys.  If you can prove to me that it was a woman’s idea to start this, I will apologize, but someone, at some point (a man obviously) decided that women were much more attractive with smooth legs…I hate that person.

Do women like facial hair?
For the most part…yeah, a little scruff here and there is usually attractive.  Just avoid the ZZ-top look…unless you are the scary oil change guy, then we understand, it’s a requirement of your job.

There you have it boys, a complete guide to every question you’ve ever had about us ladies.  Now you know everything there is to know about women…how awesome is that?  I’m a pretty cool chick huh?  You’re welcome!

Oh How I Missed You T9

So a few weeks ago, my “smart” phone (I use that term very loosely) basically decided it was done living, so much to the point that it will not even charge.  It won’t even make any effort at all.  Thankfully, my parents still had their old “dumb” phones from the same provider, so I’ve been able to just take the SIM card out of my phone and use one of theirs. 

Anyways, if you’ve never had to make the transition from a smart phone back to a dumb phone, there are a few things that take some getting used to.  Things that you used to be a whiz at, but now, since you haven’t done them, they seem to confound you.   One of these things is texting by using T9.

I understand that smart phones have the capability to use T9 as well, but with a full, onscreen, QWERTY keyboard, does anyone really do that?  Well, I don’t.  So, long story short, I’ve had to re-learn T9 all over again, and it has come at a cost a couple of times.

However, having to text with T9 has brought back some good memories.  My friends and I used to try to find random words, some of them common every day words, and type them into our phones and see what the first suggested word was.  Yeah, we really had no life back then…I can’t say much has changed.

Again, I understand that smart phones do this too, that’s why there’s a number of “autocorrect fail” websites out there.  But the way T9 mistakes the words you mean, and replaces them with random words, is just a little different.

Anyways, I thought I would share some of the autocorrects that I found rather amusing.  Some of these are ones that I remember from back in the day, others are new ones that I’ve just discovered.

What I meant to say was….

What the “dumb” phone thought I meant to say…

 

Lubbock (My home town)

Canal…and then Jacob

Bitch (because we all use this one at least once a day)

Citag…then church (haha)

Sheesh

Sheepish

Don’t

Foot

…and my personal favorite

 

Smirnoff (as in the alcoholic drink)

Poisoned

 

 

The Worst Words You Can Tell a Horse Owner (Besides Colic of Course!)

So, we had some excitement this weekend, and I don’t mean the good kind!  Considering the time change yesterday, I woke up rather early, earlier than normal since I’m a pretty early riser to begin with.  I decided to get on the computer for a little while, since no one else was up yet, and played on Facebook and did a couple other things.  Then I decided that since it was still rather brisk outside, it would be the perfect time to go for a walk.  I went and changed clothes and picked my phone up, because if I’m going to walk by myself at that time of day, I want to have some form of communication.

I checked my phone to see what time it was and noticed that I had a missed call and voicemail from the gentleman where I’m keeping the horses.  

“Hey Sammy?  Yeah, the barn is on fire, I think the horses are okay but I don’t really know where they are.  Gotta go, someone’s at the door!”

Okay, first off, for those of you who aren’t familiar with horses, I don’t want to say that they are dumb creatures, because my kiddos have proven that statement to be false on a number of occasions, but when it comes to fire, they don’t really know what to do.  I guess if you look at it from their perspective, it makes sense.  Young children don’t understand what fire is, they just know that something’s not right, and usually understand that it’s something that can hurt them.  With horses, I’ve heard stories of them panicking to the point where they will actually run straight into the fire, just because they are trying to figure out how to make it go away.  May not sound like the most logically reasoning to us, but horses just want whatever is putting pressure on them to go away.  This is no news to us, in fact, a lot of horse training methods are based around a “pressure and release” type method.

Anyways, the words “barn fire” strike fear in the hearts of horse owners, just as I’m sure it would anyone else had they heard a loved one’s house is on fire.  So I hopped in my truck and frantically drove to the barn.

When I got there, there were about three firetrucks and I saw this:

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Heartbreaking, just knowing what was there before.  My heart sunk even lower when I realized the horses were nowhere in sight.  Luckily, one of the fireman, obviously seeing the despair on my face, came up to me and said, “Yeah, when we got here, I didn’t see horses anywhere, I was scared that they were in there, but after we got in I saw three of them, they took off that way”

Since there’s just three horses in the barn, my two and the property owner’s, I instantly went from terror into rescue mode.  I walked down the street, saw that the people who lived there had caught their horse, and looked up just in time to see Stetson and Cheyenne fleeing down the road in a panicked frenzy.  Cheyenne, I love her to death, but she still has that mustang sprit, and when she finds freedom, she is a royal pain to catch! Long story short, after about an hour, and making up for that walk that I missed out on, they finally trapped themselves in a yard that was fenced all the way around, I was able to come in after them, close the gate, and catch both of them.

Anyways, the point is…all of the horses are fine, they were still a little skiddish when I left, but I’m hoping the psychological effects won’t last long.  They are visiting a neighbor horse down the street, whose dad was so kind as to offer his pasture until we can get the clean up process finished and make the pasture horse safe again!  It’s going to take awhile, but it could always be worse, what is really scary, and you can see this in some of the pictures, there were several LARGE propane tanks located near the barn, thankfully those didn’t ignite, otherwise, I would be telling a MUCH sadder story today!

We are still waiting for the Fire Marshall to finish his investigation, which means we can’t really START clean up for a couple days.  So we don’t know for sure what started the fire, but we have some serious suspicions, everything leads us to believe that it was intentionally set, and we are pretty sure we have a good idea of the prime suspect.  If this person DID start the fire, all I can say is, he’s lucky my kids weren’t hurt in the process!

Anyways…here’s some more pictures of the aftermath, I wish I had before pics for comparison, but I haven’t found any.

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You can kinda get the idea from the posts where the barn should have been, however some of the posts were knocked down when they hit them with the firetrucks
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This used to be a storage shed, a lot of stuff was lost
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This is what’s left of the barns metal roof
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As you can see, the barn was pretty much leveled….sooooo glad my kids weren’t in there!

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