C.D. Taylor's Blog, page 6

Officer Cutie Pie

Most people that know me, know that I try and approach everything with humor in my life. Sometimes this approach extends beyond what some might consider reasonable circumstances. For example, being pulled over by the local police for a traffic violation. We’ve all witnessed the scenes in film where the female driver is beside herself crying, mascara running down her face like a mud slide and begging for mercy from the “mean” officer. She doesn’t want a mark on her pristine driving record or the possibility that the fine attached to the violation might somehow hinder her from purchasing 63 new pairs of high heels this month. I really do feel for her, but seriously, she only has 2 feet…so yeah, get over it. Me on the other hand, I can’t help but laugh when I see the blueberries and cherries in my rearview mirror. I know I’ve done wrong, and it sucks that I’ve been caught, but hell, it’s my own fault. I could lay on the crying jag, maybe compliment the less than sexy dewlap protruding over his belt, or possibly offer him the package of fries that’s been in the back seat of the car for who knows how long. Hey, don’t judge, you know you have some form of petrified food somewhere in your vehicle…it happens. But my time would be wasted right? I mean come on, they know exactly their intentions when they flash those lights in your direction, there’s usually nothing you could say to sway their decision. So why not make light of the situation? And I do! Let’s take for prime example my experience just last night. I shall set the scene…There I was driving along in my car, jamming out to some Breaking Benjamin, minding my own business. Sounds innocent enough, but it gets better trust me. As I approach the turn I need to take, I see those beautiful flashing lights up ahead. In my mind, I’m thinking there’s been an accident, oh I was soooo wrong. No, it was a checkpoint. Okay well I wasn’t doing anything illegal and I’d taken the body out of my trunk earlier that day so I knew I was good. I pull in. For this story I will call the nice cop “Officer Cutie Pie”, because seriously he was adorable. I roll down my window, flash Cutie Pie a smile, wink my baby blue eyes, and say “Hi”. Cutie requests my drivers license and insurance card, no problem. I hand him my license, let him know that I will be digging in my trash pit of a glove box for the other item(so he doesn’t draw his weapon, thinking I’m trying to pull a gat out of hiding). Well here’s where the story gets funny peeps! YES I have insurance, but NO I didn’t have my new card on me. Well shitballs! I turn to Cutie and say “Well it looks as if I don’t have my new card in here, you’d better get over there and write me a ticket.” Thinking that maybe he had a sense of humor, and would say “Hey no big deal, have a good night.” Not so much. He leaves for a few, and comes back with his trusty ticket book. As he walks back up to my window I proceed to call him a “freaking A-hole”, and tell him that this is “ridiculous, ignorant, and dumb.” Now he decides to bring his sense of humor to the surface. Uh hey dude, I wasn’t kidding!!! Cutie explains the deets for the ticket, flashes me a beaming smile, and hands the papers to me. Oh the story doesn’t end there…He then informs me that he’s keeping my drivers license!!! Oh hell no! I complain a bit, jokingly of course. He chuckles and tells me to have a good night and be safe. Things should’ve ended there, I should’ve drove away and thanked him for his wonderful service to our community, but me being the smart ass that I am, I had to have just one last go at him. So I yelled out my window “Hey!”, he turns back around, looks at me, and that’s when I turn on my smart ass super powers. I yell “Don’t be drawing a mustache on my drivers license dude!”. At this point all the other officers in the vicinity hear me, and bust out laughing. Now, I was probably lucky that I wasn’t asked to get out of my car and recite the alphabet backwards and do back handsprings while singing a Justin Bieber song. After all, I most likely sounded intoxicated, which I was NOT. So I think no matter what circumstance you’re in, you could find some sort of humor in it. I mean why not? I would rather spend my time laughing instead of crying. Those guys do have a tough job though, I admire the police and all they do. I could have been the one bright spot in a mundane night for those guys, or I could have been the one person they talked about around the box of doughnuts this morning.

Don’t be a Limp Noodle!

 

 

 

 

 

Every time I open up my trusty email inbox expecting wonderful amazing things, what I find can be considered not only humorous but disturbing. There’s always something having to do with work, the usual Twitter notification, Facebook junk, and sometimes a great store coupon that I can’t wait to use. But more often than not, I’m finding things that leave me scratching my head. Let us take the frequent email from a penis enlargement company for instance. First of all let me clear something up, I do not, or have ever had a penis…I’m a GIRL!! Unless these companies know something that I don’t, its safe to say that I will always be a female. There may be an unforeseen event in my life that changes this, but just for shits and giggles, let say that I will NEVER have a penis. But I would have to say that if I did, the chance to make it larger might be somewhat appealing. I just can’t help but laugh when I see in the subject line “Don’t be a limp noodle”. I wish I could say they were talking about a great way to cook pasta, but alas, it’s just another ploy to entice me into buying the latest boner meds. No thank you, I think I’ll be passing on that grand opportunity. I honesty don’t check my spam folder all that much, but when I do, it’s an event that can’t be missed. Laughter ensues, there might be a slight bit of pants peeing(hey, I said MIGHT!). I also find that I am a millionaire. Yeah that’s right, by the time I add up all the offers to GIVE me money, I’m rolling in the dough like a pig in mud. Sometimes I sit back and dream of the many islands and shoes I would buy with that amount of cash, but the dream is shattered when I find out I am required to travel to India or Antarctica to retrieve said funds. I’m not big on curry or the cold, so I’ll stay home and dream away. But I do wonder how many people fall for those kinds of offers? Is there some poor guy sitting at home with a stockpile full of boner pills? If so, he probably has so many he gives them out as treats at Halloween. Or maybe he donates them to a local nursing home, after all, the geriatric crowd deserves a good time too right? Who knows, maybe the money offers, free cars, and enhancement medications are a good thing and I’m missing out by being such a cynic. Or maybe I’m thinking with my big head and staying out of trouble. Either way, my noodle is staying right where it’s supposed to be…in a pot of boiling water, slathered in sauce, surrounded by tasty balls, of the meat kind of course.

 

Game of Coupons

Extreme couponing has swept the nation for a last several years and I wish I could say I passed this crazy trend up. But I haven’t. I have partaken in this phase not only for the money saving aspects but for the adrenaline rush as well. If I had to choose which one caused me to continue it, I would have to say that it was the adrenaline more than anything. Who wouldn’t want to walk into a store with a giant overflowing binder of coupons and come out with a cart load of free shit? There’s just something so gratifying about all of it. I know there is no way I’ll use 500 sticks of deodorant in my lifetime, but it was all FREE! How do I do it you ask? Oh its so simple, here’s an example…The Sunday paper shows up on the doorstep and inside those pages of funky feeling paper and black ink, are these wonderful sheets of glorious heaven called “coupon inserts”. Some look at them as just another object for the recycle bin but I look at them like I’m Frodo and that paper goodness is the ring. If anyone touches my “ring” I will cut them…no really, I will. I will straight up shank them prison style in the shower room. Once the inserts are safely in my possession, I sit down and slice them out of their holdings with my lucky blue handled scissors. Why are they lucky? I don’t have an answer for that, they just are, so don’t question it. Anyway I take the coupons, or “freshly printed money” as I like to refer to them as, and I take inventory of what I have. Then I open up the grocery sale ads for the week. It’s really all about having a good eye, an eye for detail. Let’s say you have a coupon that is offering up $1.00 off a stick of deodorant…good deal right? Well sure it is. A dollar off anything would be a gold mine for the normal shopper, but for a couponer, it’s like having Mother Teresa(god rest her soul) place her rosary in your hand and blessing you personally. But if you surf through a sale ad and find that the same stick of deodorant is on sale for $1.00…well holy hell, that means that said stick is FREE! Think about it, you can spare the general public and those close to you from body odor for free. That right there is just amazeballs right? Now I know there are those who take the coupon game to a whole new level, they make this huge shopping plan and it ends up turning into an all out “Game of Thrones” type deal. I’m not like that. I actually might be considered too nice when it comes to my game plan. I don’t clear the shelves if I find a great deal, I believe in leaving some for others. But I have walked into a store and been disappointed by some jack hole cleaning off the shelves of some item, when I know for a fact they didn’t need 62 boxes of Monistat. I mean really, if they did need the vag cream that bad, then sure go ahead and take it, but they really needed to think about going to the doctor for their issue instead of stockpiling the medicine right? One particular trip that I was so proud of though, was when I scored like 50 bottles of BBQ sauce for free. Imagine the crazy looks when I went to the checkout, had everything rang up and paid nothing for my merchandise. The other customers in line were practically high fiving me. I do share the wealth though. If I’m in a checkout lane and see that the person in front of me has an item that I happen to have a coupon for, I dig the coupon out of my binder and let them have it. It may only save them 50 cents, but that’s better than nothing in my opinion. And when I’ve done this, the people usually look at me with such gratefulness because there aren’t many people left in this world willing to help another. No I’m not a dang coupon saint or anything like that, but if I have something that I really won’t use, why not pass it to someone who will. I’ve scored so many things for my family that have saved us money. Some of these include, soap, hair care products, dish detergent, laundry items, food, snacks…and so many more. I’ve donated items to causes too. I can remember a few years ago when Joplin Missouri was hit by a massive tornado and needed items like cleaning supplies, laundry stuff, and personal care items. I dug through my stockpile and donated to the cause. Those people needed those things more than I did and because I paid either nothing or next to nothing for them, it wasn’t a hardship for me to help out. But we’ve all been behind that person in the checkout lane who pulls out their giant stack of coupons and takes forever with their order. But next time you are, think about the fact that this certain person could be doing it for a reason. Maybe they just want to save money, maybe they don’t have much money and this is their only way to provide for their family, or maybe just maybe, they are doing this because they want to help others in need. Either way, have some patience, it won’t kill you to stand in line a few moments longer…besides, there are always some gossip rags in the checkout lane, pick one up and read about a 6 headed cat while you’re waiting.

Addictions come in all shapes and sizes…small, medium and large.

I think we are all guilty of being addicted to something in our lives right? Maybe its food, or that teddy bear that you’ve had since you were 5, that now resembles a matted mess of synthetic fur. Yeah, you know the one…you’ve tried to keep it hidden, but somehow the kids or dog manage to drag it out just when company comes over. Ultimately making you blush and leaves you wishing there was a hole you could climb into. They say that the first step to recovering from an addiction is to admit that you have a problem. Well this shall be my admission…I have a panty addiction!!! I would say I’m not proud of it, but truthfully I freaking love it! It’s not like I have some crazy fetish where I lock myself in the closet and rub the satin and lace all over myself just to feel its luxuriousness against my skin. No, I just like own an overabundance of the things. Oh, you want numbers? Okay fine! I own around 130 pair of panties…give or take a few. There isn’t a sale at Victoria’s Secret that I don’t grace and when I open the mailbox and find that sweet gem of a coupon for a free pair, my palms get sweaty, my knees go weak and I experience heart palpitations like no other. Free panties truly are a beautiful thing. I’m a little ashamed however that I’ve had to take over another drawer for my ever-growing stock of the little beauties. But each time I open a drawer I look in at my babies and stand in awe. Satin, Lace, boy shorts, bikinis, and yes, even thongs. I’ve been told by many that I have a problem, but I don’t see it as a problem, I see it as a solution. I mean, come on, while everyone else is doing laundry because they are out of skivvies, I’m over here riffling through my 100+ pair trying to figure out which ones I want to sport on a certain day. I do however have my favorites, they usually include some sort of cheetah print. There is just nothing like sitting around thinking about how your lady garden and rump are covered in safari print. It makes a girl feel wild and adventurous.

So don’t feel bad for your trivial addictions, they come in all shapes and sizes…small, medium and large!

 

What the Sock?!

I can’t help but notice a disturbing trend that is sweeping the nation. I’ve tried to convince myself that it’s a passing faze, but I don’t think I’m right in my assumption. Mismatched socks! Somebody shoot me already. I can remember when I was a kid, my mom would do the laundry and I was responsible for matching my own foot coverings. I’ll admit I was filled with extreme laziness when it came to this task, so therefore, I chose to wear 2 different socks on many occasions. But now that I’m quite a bit older, I wonder if I was really “in style” back then, and not lazy. Sure, some think it’s “super cute” to have puppies on one foot and monkeys on the other…but do these animals really get along in the animal kingdom? And what do stripes on one foot have to do with Hello Kitty on the other? Is it a hint to Hello Kitty that someday she’ll be in a prison jumpsuit, sporting stripes? Personally, I think this “trend” is just another stepping stone to become a more lazy society. The laundry gets washed, dried, and when it comes to folding and matching the socks, people think “Ah what the hell, lets just throw them in a pile and let fate deal with the matching.” Doesn’t anyone really step back and see how ridiculous this looks? I’m all for mixing patterns and making a statement, but this has gone too far. I actually have a family member that will throw all of her families socks in a basket and when its time to get dressed, they dig around and pull out whatever. Each time I see them I get so aggravated. The crazy thing about them is this…the family member is totally OCD too! I’m like “How could you?!”. I could just be OCD myself and have to take control of said sock situation, but I think my issue is this. I know I’m a perpetually lazy person, I don’t need a neon sign telling the world that I’m one. If I’m gonna sport some crazy mismatched socks, then why don’t I just have a tattoo carved into my forehead that says…”Kick me, I’m lazy.”  

Wolf or Sheep?

If you can’t be yourself, who can you be? In the world we live in, there is a certain standard to which we are supposed to dress, act, and think. The body type of rail thin model has graced the pages of magazines, television and the silver screen so much that we now believe this is the way we should look. But are we investing too much time trying to look a certain way? Is it not acceptable anymore to live in the body we were given? Sure its not healthy to be overweight, health issues arise, we have to pop pills to make our bodies function, and unfortunately if you’re a child, you are succumb to ridicule for the non-ideal body type. But why can’t the world just accept us for who we are? Is it so bad to be something other than a size zero? We also find ourselves flipping through magazines to find the fashion which is put out there, for us to partake in. Who can really afford that stuff? $100 for a T-Shirt! That’s insane! What’s wrong with finding a bargain shirt and wearing it? So what if its not the highest name brand out there, isn’t the point of a shirt to cover our body anyway? What does it matter what the tags says. We are also programmed to act a certain way in society. What happed to free speech, the ability to voice your opinion without facing backlash. Each time we begin to form a sentence, we have to actually think about it and wonder if what comes out of our mouth will be offensive to some one in some way. We rarely hear the term “outspoken” when we think about a certain type of person. They are becoming extinct like the dinosaurs. They go into hiding because heaven forbid they open their trap and say something that will make someone blush, or freak out. If you want to know what kind of person I am, well just ask me. I say what’s on my mind, I tell it like it is and if someone gets offended, that’s on them. I know when to keep my mouth shut of course, but on a normal day, what hits my brain spills out of my mouth like water from a faucet. I’m told constantly “I wish I could be more like you”. Well why can’t you? What’s keeping your mouth sealed, and the words trapped inside? I’m not a robot, I don’t act like everyone else, because I’m NOT everyone else. I don’t conform to the standards of how society thinks I should dress, I dance to the beat of my own drum and I love it. I like to live and think outside of the box. No I don’t have purple hair, metal in my face, or carry around a sign that says “I’m different”. But I do dress differently from others that live around me, I celebrate the fact that I don’t have a filter, and damn it, I love the fact that my body has curves. I’m not perfect, but that’s what makes me who I am. I think the Dr. Suess quote says it best…”Why fit in, when you were born to stand out.”

I would rather go to bed at night knowing I did my best to be me, and not follow others around like a sheep in the pasture. I would rather be the wolf than the sheep. So look in the mirror and ask yourself…Am I a sheep? Or am I a Wolf?

Never Give Up

What does it actually mean when someone says “never give up”? There are days we all want to roll over and die for one reason or another but is that really giving up? Or is it just giving in? I prefer to think of it as “giving into the moment”. Some days we roll out of the sheets with a piss poor attitude and nothing or no one can make it better. We would rather crawl in a dark space with a Hershey bar while listening to the soothing sounds of Death Metal blaring through our iPods. Why shouldn’t we be allowed to “give in” once in a while? It’s not really giving up.

Somedays I have to just take a step back and reevaluate a situation, that doesn’t mean in giving up on the end result of said circumstance, it just means I need more time to think something over. So I guess the moral here, if there even is one, is that as human beings we can’t pretend to be superheroes. We are made from flesh and bone. We don’t have super powers that make us stronger than we are supposed to be. We are just…normal.

Next time you hear someone tell you “hey, never give up”, look that person in the eyes and say “I’m not giving up, I’m giving in…for now”.

Charity

Charity

Thinking about donating your time or money to a worthy charity this year? FirstBook.org is an amazing organization helping children combat the literacy issue right at our own back doors. Help a child delve in the exciting world of books by taking the time to check out this website. I have personally pledged to contribute a portion of my book royalties to this more than worthy cause. Help make a change in a child’s life, and in turn change yours.

“Change is only bad if it’s yourself you’re refusing to change”

Just a little teaser for “Come Back to Me”