The Junk Drawer

One year ago today, the Junk Drawer opened for business. I’m very excited, as I never dreamed my blog would make it this far or that I would be blessed with the readership I have. Also, there’s going to be cake.

But this day isn’t about me — it’s all about you! And cake.

Thank you for your visits here. Thank you for leaving me the most hilarious comments in The Drawer. Thank you for making me feel that it’s OK to be a little bent. Well, a lot bent.

If you commented here, put me in your blogroll, Stumbled my posts, told your friends about me, subscribed to my feed or bought me cake, THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU!

I’m deeply grateful to have met so many of you online and gotten to know you through your blogs and emails. I feel like The Junk Drawer belongs to all of us. We’re a community. Writing here and reading your responses has been some of the most fun I’ve had in my life, with or without cake. Toast yourselves and know that I wouldn’t keep doing this if not for you.

Please celebrate this milestone with me and give yourselves a pat on the back for being a part of The Junk Drawer’s success and remember that birthdays are a fun time to look back on the past year, examine our lives and ….. oh, shut up Kathy! Serve the CAKE already!

Pass me a fork!

  Everyone’s a year older at Humor-Blogs.com

If you got a kick out of this post, subscribe to The Junk Drawer feed!

Girls, girls, girls. You may not realize this, but millions of women before you regarded this look as slobbish. I know this seems to be a trend right now, but it’s really not attractive. Not cute. Not flirty. Just makes you look like you can’t dress yourself.

If you’re going to wear a bra with straps that are thicker than the ones on the dress, for the love of God, at least match the color. And, by the way, I believe most men prefer a little mystery. This ain’t it.

And, yes, I did take a picture right there in the church. It was at a wedding, so everyone had cameras out. They were just pointing them at someone else wearing white.

Geez.

I suppose I should ask whether the men out there actually like this look. Do you find it alluring and sexy? Or do you think underwear belongs under there? Be honest.

If you got a kick out of this post, subscribe to The Junk Drawer feed!

Almost missed this one!  Cycling through a million digital pictures, I came across this one taken months ago. I think it makes a fine addition to the Food That Looks Like Stuff collection.

Do you see the face? Or do you think I’m seeing things again?

Wrap Your Brain Around It

For the record, this turkey wrap was heavenly, despite not having a scrap of bacon in it. I know. Hard to believe. It might have actually been healthy. Don’t worry, I won’t let that happen again.

Humor bloggers play with their food.

If you got a kick out of this post, subscribe to The Junk Drawer feed!

UPDATE: The fine folks at Odiogo emailed me this morning to report that they gave my blog a female voice! My older posts are still in Phil’s voice, and I’m not sure whether they’ll change over to “Phyllis” down the road.

Anyway, this post no longer makes sense because it was intended for Phil. You can listen to it anyway if you like. I talk about boobs.

Here is the content of the original post:

In order to make the most of this post, please scroll to the bottom and click on the Listen Now button next to Kathy’s name. I’ll wait.

Ready? OK. Let’s get started.

My name is Phil. I’m the voice of Odiogo, a cool, free, text-to-speech tool where you can voice-enable your blog!

Kathy invited me here because a few of her readers have weak eyesight and would benefit from this technology. In addition, you can download the audio files to your iPod and take Kathy on the road with you.

My name isn’t actually Phil, but it’s the name Kathy gave me because Phil is an every man name and she likes it. Also, it’s the name of the host of her favorite reality show, The Amazing Race, which, by the way, she was not accepted for. Bastards.

Anyway, Kathy told me I could say anything I want on this blog post, but only this one. After today, I have to say exactly what she wants me to say. For now, I can let my hair down.

So, get this. When I started out at Odiogo, I was under the impression that I would be hired along with a group of other fake voices. Both men and women.

But it turns out that Odiogo is willfully violating all the Equal Employment Opportunity and affirmative action laws on the books by hiring only men for the part, which is very stupid because like, Kathy’s a woman, and it would sound dumb if I said something she wrote, like, “I went for my mammogram today and my boob got stuck in the scanner.” See, I do not have boobs. Not even manly boobs. I’m very fit.

I was hoping Odiogo would hire at least one woman so I would have someone to go out with after work. I’m single. Is that hard to imagine? What? You don’t think I sound sexy? Oh, I’m very sexy. They just gave me a bad voice.

It’s the same kind of voice they use for those hellish automated telephone menus when you call a company to request service or complain about something. Do you know how you can avoid most of them? Press zero on the key pad and you go straight to a human. Little tip from me to you.

Anyway, back to my sexy voice. I’m all business while I’m at work, but you should hear me after I’ve had a few beers. I’m smooth. I’m awesome. The ladies love me.

In fact, they like it when I get up at the bar and do karaoke. Here’s a sample of the latest song that got all the women hot.

I’m a model. You know what I mean.
And I do my little turn on the catwalk.
Yeah. On the catwalk. On the catwalk. Yeah.
I do my little turn on the catwalk.
I’m too sexy for my car. Too sexy for my car.
Too sexy by far.
And I’m too sexy for my hat.
Too sexy for my hat. What do you think about that?

See? You can’t resist me. Please answer my call for help. Leave a comment below and let Kathy know how much you want me to have women to work with. Tell her that she has to contact Odiogo and inform them of their grave mistake and they need to hire a chick to read Kathy’s posts.

And not just any woman. She should be a built brunette and have legs that go on for miles. That’s how Kathy sees herself and frankly, that’s the kind of woman I want to hang out with in the recording studio.

Do a guy a favor, eh? Thanks, and now I’ll turn Kathy’s blog back over to her. You’ll always find the Listen Now button at the bottom of her posts so you lazy asses who don’t want to read, can still get a dose of The Junk Drawer.

Before you go, head on over to Humor Blogs dot com and click on the smiley button to show her the love.

Over and out.

If you got a kick out of this post, subscribe to The Junk Drawer feed!

WARNING: This post is disgusting. Come back later if you are repulsed by vomiting. I’m sure those in the medical profession (or the parents among you) have seen it all, so you’re probably safe.

Yesterday I did something I’ve never done before. I threw up from smelling garbage. Yeah, fun.

I took a full kitchen trash bag to the garage and when I lifted the lid to the big can, I gagged. I thought “Oh, it’s just a dry heave. No problem.”

Then the beast grabbed me by the throat and screamed “There’s steaming cat poo in this here can! Run! Run!”

I had to cover my mouth as I ran to the kitchen sink, where I let loose. Thrice. My husband thought maybe it was one of the cats coughing up a hair ball. No, dear, that was me.

I’m guessing we had a couple bags of garbage stewing in our hundred degree garage for a few days and it hadn’t escaped until just then.

All I can say is God bless the trash haulers of the world. Let us all thank them for the foul and disgusting job they do. Imagine if no one took our garbage away and it was left to rot in the baking sun. Seriously, think about it.

In recognition of the guys who pick up my trash, I have a little prayer for you.

Dear God,

Please bless and keep the trash haulers.

They do work no sane person would do.

They lug and throw and smell the funk

Whether it’s food or diapers with poo.

They ride on the truck in the wake of the smell.

They can’t get away for a minute.

If not for them taking the crap that I lay

We’d be up to our eye sockets in it.

Amen

If you got a kick out of this post, subscribe to The Junk Drawer feed!

You’re all aware of my love affair with bacon, so it stands to reason that I eat my fair share of BLT sandwiches.

There are two places I get my fix. Subway and Wawa. Today we shall have a smackdown between the two sandwich giants.

There is one clear winner and it all boils down to the ordering process because the faster and easier I can get my grubby little hands on my BLT, the happier Kathy is and the less punishment the general public has to suffer for me being hungry and annoyed.

How to order at Subway:

Enter establishment and queue up to the start of the assembly line. Tell the sandwich prepper what sandwich you want, on what bread and with what condiments.

The prepper grabs your selected bread and EVEN THOUGH YOU JUST SAID WHAT YOU WANTED, proceeds to ask you at each condiment container what you want on the sandwich.

What kills me is the part where, even though I just said I want a BLT, the prepper asks me if I want LETTUCE and TOMATO on my Bacon, Lettuce and Tomato sandwich. It makes me want to cry. They do this every single time, without fail.

Yes, I would like lettuce and tomato on my Bacon, Lettuce and Tomato sandwich and if you ask me if I want bacon on that, I’ll have to give up on you and leave without my sandwich and that’s not good for the general public, remember?

Pickles? No. Cheese? No. Onions? No. Peppers? No. Olives? What? No! GROSS.

After finally making it to the end of the condiment station, my sandwich is ready and I wish I had gone to Wawa. Although Subway has the best bread, Wawa has the ordering process down to a science.

How to order at Wawa:

Enter establishment and walk up to a gloriously easy-to-use kiosk that beckons me to buy any number of happy-looking hoagies, sandwiches, wraps and subs.

I touch the screen to begin.

Welcome!

Oh, why thank you!

What kind of sandwich would you like?

I shall have a BLT.

On what kind of roll?

Hoagie, please.

Would you like that toasted?

Oh, yes, toast me, baby.

What size do you want? Shorti? 6″? 10″? Giant?

Let’s say 6″. By the way, I love you, pleasant-sounding beeping machine.

What condiments would you like on that? My selections are never-ending. Among them is mayonnaise and not just one button for mayonnaise.

There is a special button called “Extra Mayo” that should have a halo around it because it is a button made in heaven and blessed by God.

Why, yes. Yes, I would like extra mayo.

Almost finished. More bacon ($1.09 extra)?

Oh, sweet Jesus. Could it be? A button you press to get more bacon? What happens if I press it twice? Three times? Do I get a whole pig? Bring on the more!

Beep-boop-beep-boop-beep. My order is finished and out pops a receipt. And by the time I’ve paid for my delicious, bacon-packed BLT swimming in mayonnaise, the server hands it to me and I’m on my way.

The only possible improvement that Wawa could make to this process is if they incorporate the sandwich-ordering technology into the gas pumps outside. Yes, Wawa is also a gas station. Don’t knock it til you try it.

Everyone knows I’m an awesome product tester and so it makes sense that I know what I’m talking about in the sandwich-ordering, gas-pumping, time-saving department. What do you say, Wawa? Care to make a great system even better?

Also, could you install a debit card swiper so I can pay for my sandwich right at the deli to avoid annoying children standing at the register, screaming at their mothers that they want Bazooka bubble gum for dinner? Yeah, that’d be swell.

I’d like a BLT with a side of humor blog.

If you got a kick out of this post, subscribe to The Junk Drawer feed!

If you got a kick out of this post, subscribe to The Junk Drawer feed!

Greetings from Bag Land! Some of you have been wondering how our beloved plastic bag is doing stuck in the tree outside my building. Here you go!

There has been little movement since it first landed there 111 days ago. I do check on it every day, despite having moved to a new office in my building. I’m only one floor away from my old office, so don’t worry, I can still see it whenever I’m curious.

About a month ago, I had two opportunities to try and get the bag out. Once when window washers were cleaning windows, using a vehicle that had an expandable ladder that might have reached the bag. Then later, some workmen were putting up outdoor tents for an event. The machine they used would have easily reached the top of this tree.

I declined to ask the men for assistance for three reasons: 1) I didn’t want to be known as the crazy lady who cares about a stupid bag, 2) They had more important work to do, and 3) A couple people whose opinions I sought said I should let the bag come out naturally, especially since there is a contest involved.

New readers may want to catch up on the bag story. This is where it made its first appearance. Here’s the story about how the bag got there. And this post was an update that includes video.

Among those who entered my little contest, 14 of you are still in the running. However, many guessed dates this summer, so your chances of winning are growing slimmer and slimmer.

Let me ask everyone now: If I get another opportunity to get the bag out, should I take it? 

Like this post? Toss me a vote for the funniest blog at Humor-Blogs.com!

If you got a kick out of this post, subscribe to The Junk Drawer feed!

I like nature. I like animals in nature.

I like squirrels. I like squirrels eating birdseed nearby. They look cute.

I like squirrels with their bushy tails, eating straight from the bird feeder. Very happy squirrels.

What I do not like is when happy, bushy-tailed squirrels get spooked because I put down my coffee cup too loudly on the patio table and they flip out and fall off the bird feeder, run down a pole, get confused, spin around a few times and then RUN UP MY LEG.

I’ll thank them not to do it again.

Shake a leg and head over to HumorBlogs.com

If you got a kick out of this post, subscribe to The Junk Drawer feed!

I’ve just discovered a most excellent site that made me react the same way I did when I discovered chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream:

Why didn’t someone think of this sooner?

The site, called Blogtations, is chock full of quotations taken from some really outstanding blogs. The site owner, a self-described quote addict, scours blogs looking for quotable material and posts a handful every Monday (and sometimes Friday). One of her fans called it “Like Bartlett’s, only bloggy.” She also takes recommendations, so go ahead and submit some of your favorite quotes from your favorite blogs. You might make someone’s day.

A word of warning: The site is addictive. The quotes are so high-quality, you’ll find yourself saying “Just one more.” And then you’ll keep reading. And miss meetings. And be late for dinner. The only problem with me having read everything in her archives is now I have to wait a week for new material. Crap!

What’s more is that I’ve been introduced to some fantastic blogs and felt a little annoyed that I hadn’t found them before. Where have all these great blogs been hiding?

Blogtations is the blogosphere’s best kept secret. But hopefully not for long! Head on over and check it out.

If you got a kick out of this post, subscribe to The Junk Drawer feed!

Is it bad that I wanted to kill this thing because I was delayed loading my 4th of July foodfest gut in the car because my husband refused to leave until it leapt away, for fear that if it remained, the wind would blow it off and it would die a grisly death on the roadway?

Is it bad that my husband believes that it’s illegal to kill a praying mantis? (It’s not.)

Further, is it bad that I went to the 4th of July foodfest with the top button of my pants already unbuttoned, and that by the end of the day I appeared to be seven months pregnant and that all I wanted to do was dump myself in the car and speed to the emergency room because I was pretty sure I just ate my weight in picnic food and needed a good old fashioned stomach pump?

These are the things I’d like to know.

  Humor bloggers like their bugs crunchy.

If you got a kick out of this post, subscribe to The Junk Drawer feed!

Yeah. So remember what happened to me the last time I went to the doctor for my injection? The time the nurse used my butt as a table?

Today I had another appointment.

The good news is that I didn’t get Nurse Ratched again. The bad news is people got a free show in Exam Room #5.

When I entered the room, the nurse asked me to sit on the exam table while she prepared the syringe. We had a pleasant conversation about holiday plans for the weekend and how the weather might turn nasty.

I heard other people chatting it up out in the hallway through the open door. Hmmm, wonder when she’s gonna shut the door.

She asked me to get in position, which means pants down, knee bent, lean towards the table. I complied. Hmmm, wonder when she’s gonna shut the door.

The nurse walked over behind me and warned me it would stick a little, but not bad if I didn’t tense my legs. Hmmm, wonder when she’s gonna shut the door.

Voices from the outside continued to waft through the hall and into the room. STICK! OUCH! You’re done!

Guess she wasn’t gonna shut the door.

Thanks. Hope everybody got a nice eyeful.

—–

Humor bloggers prefer their pants up in public.

If you got a kick out of this post, subscribe to The Junk Drawer feed!