Aliens Aren’t The Only Ones You Need To Fear

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(Texting from an inservice training for the upcoming school year.)

Me: I’d like a medal for NOT breaking out laughing either time the trainer said, “This is what you do when you have a big unit.”

Ryan: Gold star!

Me: I did not, however, manage to maintain myself any of the times that they said we needed to “continuously probe our students.”

Ryan: Please, please don’t probe students. It is a sure way to get your picture in the paper. Your picture would even be in my paper.  I might even have to give them one off my phone.

Me: Just make sure to use a filter and that I’m smiling.

Ryan: Least I could do.

Let’s All Just Be Happy I Didn’t Teach Your Toddlers How To Play Craps And Use the F-Word.

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Shockingly, my best friend, Tracy and her husband, left me with their 1-year-old twins for the night.  I know…I know…who do you call CPS on first?

Ryan: How’s the babysitting? They’re down for the night, yes?

Me: Sleeping like baby angels!

Ryan: How many times have they checked in?

Me: Just twice.  I did just send them this…

Dear Tracy and Tim,

Thank you for entrusting me with your two perfect babies. We are having a wonderful time. A few notes… First, you might notice that your son now calls you “Mummy” with a British accent. We apologize, Xavier thought it would be funny. Also, your other nephew, Liam has some concerns that my fake theatrical crying (when I stubbed my toe) might have made your daughter develop an ‘overdeveloped sense of schadenfreude’. His words, not mine. Lastly, I hope you don’t mind that your darlings now call raisins by their proper name…”Lies”.

Miss you! Hugs!
Megan

Ryan: Okay, two issues…  First, what is your issue with raisins?

Me: They’re the worst things that ever happened.  Overstating?

Ryan: But, they had those really cool commercials in the 80’s.  They had merchandise!

Me: If they were so great, they never would have had to sing and dance. The only reason chocolate advertises, is to keep you from buying OTHER chocolate.

Ryan: Point made.

Me: What’s the other issue, you said there were two issues?

Ryan: Oh, just that they’re never going to leave you alone with their children again.

Me: Agreed.

Now Would Be A Good Time To Try Atkins.

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Me: Is it just me, or is this the dirtiest bread name ever?
kneedforseedRyan: Hello, Marketing Department? I don’t think your product name means what you think it means.

Me: Spoiler: Someone in your department likes bread a little TOO much.

Ryan: The secret ingredient?  It ain’t love.  Have you checked the label?

Me: Uh oh…it says it “contains nuts”.

Ryan: That bakery doubles as a fertility clinic.

Me: Well, now we know what happens to the slow swimmers.

Ryan: Remember when carbs were the scariest thing?

Welcome To Arizona! Come For The Weather, Stay For The Xenophobia!

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Okay, so for those of you who watch ANY news whatsoever, it should come as no shock that my beloved Arizona has gotten a reputation as being…shall we say…flamingly racist.  While I understand why it looks like we’re all a bunch of backwoods hillbilly cretins most of the time, I feel I must defend my state’s honor.

To begin, it is a fact that almost no one over the age of 30 is actually FROM Arizona, and we are almost entirely populated by transplants from colder states, who came here for the weather, and promptly started complaining because our golf courses were too close to Mexico.  You know how everyone has that ONE embarrassing racist uncle, who screams about immigrants and thinks that Obama was born in Kenya?  Well, that guy got sick of Wisconsin winters or shoveling snow in Michigan, and moved his ass to Phoenix.  So the problem isn’t actually Arizonans, per se…it’s that we have a HUGE population of older, conservative transplants, who unfortunately vote religiously, and who are magnetically attracted to the candidate wearing the fanciest tinfoil hat.

Now, recently, we’ve gotten some attention, AGAIN, for yet another idiot who has taken to leading armed (and I’m talking automatic weapons, here) protests against Muslims at local mosques while wearing (and selling, because we can’t miss a sales opportunity) t-shirts that say things that I won’t repeat, but involve expletives that aren’t, shall we say, neighborly.  Once again, we get bad press, but what the national news doesn’t mention, is that he JUST moved here from California, so once again we get credit for a village idiot who wandered off from another state.  I do not want to give this asshole any MORE attention by mentioning his name, but Ryan and I call him, ‘The Ritz’.

Shockingly, as it turns out, pissing off one of Earth’s largest religions has consequences.  First it means that you will get thoroughly spanked, on national TV, by both Anderson Cooper and Philip Mudd, a former senior official with the FBI and CIA. Secondly, it means your family will have to go into hiding until things cool down.

Well, as it turns out, this idiot lives down the street from Ryan’s sister, Susan, so her entire block was curiously populated with a lot of unmarked paneled vans and dark windowed American sedans.  Because we’re naturally fascinated by this insanity, we have Susan sending us daily updates.

**And, yes, this conversation took place BEFORE Donald Trump’s asinine remarks about McCain.

 

Ryan: She just texted. The Ritz’ wife came back!  SHE ACTUALLY CAME BACK!

Me: There is no way she did that of her own volition. He must be blackmailing her.  She must have killed a drifter or a United States Senator, or something.

Ryan: Has anyone actually seen John McCain lately?

Me: Real McCain?  Or amazingly lifelike, animatronic McCain?

Ryan: I’m pretty sure The Ritz is keeping that McCain in his garage.

Me: What’s he doing with it!?

Ryan: Well, you know how lonely he must have been when he was in hiding with his wife gone…robot McCain was his only comfort.

Me: I wonder what robot McCain’s O-Face looks like.

Ryan: …

Me: What?

Ryan: That’s the sound of me becoming impotent.

Men…Don’t Read This One. Trust Me. You’re Welcome.

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Jesus, OB/.GYN...no pressure.

My OB/GYN is super efficient.

Okay, so, after 18 months, I’m having my Mirena removed.  I had it put in, essentially because I was sold on the idea that there was an 80% chance that I would stop getting my period. And, yes, I did stop getting actual periods, but what I had instead were 10-14 days of light spotting every five weeks.  Not ideal.  Worse, I gained a TON of weight, which…unless you’re being rescued from a deserted island, isn’t something most women strive for.

Tracy: Where are you?

Me: I’m at the Gynecologist, getting my IUD yanked out.

Tracy: Nice image. Text me when you’re done.

(ten minutes later)

Me: Done.  Easy peasy.

Tracy: Why did you have it removed, again?

Me:

Mirena

Because this tiny thing, apparently, weighs 26 pounds.  I feel lighter already.

Tracy: Ewww…you took a picture of it?

Me: That’s not the one that came out of me, weirdo, that’s the sample in the waiting room.

Tracy: How many people were in the waiting room?

Me: I don’t know, 25?

Tracy: So, 25 people just watched you take a picture of something that amounts to a Vagina Lego, and you’re calling ME a weirdo?

Me: Touché

The Danger Zone Indeed.

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(It would take entirely too long to explain how this conversation got started.)

Ryan: Rambo III was the only movie I’ve ever seen, where I wanted my money back.

Me: For me that was Eyes Wide Shut. Never has a movie with so much sex, been so sexless.

Ryan: That’s because the only believable sexual tension that Tom Cruise has ever had, onscreen, was with Val Kilmer.

 

**And if you don’t think Top Gun was softcore gay porn, I’m begging you to rewatch the shower scenes.  All of them.