I made a rare mid-week sortie to The Devil's Playground this morning to seek beard-whitener for Farmer H. Funny how I could not find any beard-whitener, but saw a shelf full of beard-darkener. It's not that Farmer H is trying to look like Kenny Rogers. C'mon. Even Kenny Rogers doesn't look like Kenny Rogers! No, Farmer H wants his beard that is kind of striped with gray and white to be ALL WHITE. He's playing Santa on Saturday for a local preschool crowd, and wants to go natural instead of wearing his strap-on beard. Well, as natural as he can be with using beard-whitener.
The hair color aisle didn't have anything like that, and the shaving aisle didn't have anything like that. So I asked a Devil's Handmaiden who was unloading a cart right in the middle of the main aisle. They are wont to do that, you know. Block as much of the road through not-heaven as they can. She was quite polite, and said she did not think they carried such a product. Her only solution was to use bleach. Nope. Don't think so. I think it might turn Farmer H's beard yellow. Or make his chin bald. The Handmaiden suggested a party supply store, because they have spray-in hair color. I passed that info on to Farmer H, and headed to the Christmas section to see if they might have some. They did not.
Don't shop at The Devil's Playground on a Wednesday, people, because they have ZERO bags of broccoli/cauliflower/carrots on the shelf. So as the weather gets cold this week, you cannot enjoy a Mansion delicacy of Broccocaulipeppot. In case you have a hankerin' for some, the recipe is in here. I, myself, will be having none, due to the lack of broccoli/cauliflower/carrots. Yes. I have since added baby carrots to my recipe. But I haven't changed the name. Would you change your turducken if you stuffed a pigeon in there? I think not.
Getting back to the dead mouse smelling post office...after leaving The Devil's Playground, I stopped at the gas station chicken store for my 44 oz Diet Coke. Before I clambered out of T-Hoe, I checked my phone, and saw a new email:
Hi Mrs. Hillbilly Mom,
Sorry we missed you. We tried, but we weren't able to deliver your package today.
You can reschedule the delivery by visiting USPS Redelivery or you can pick up your package from the post office listed on the notice of attempted delivery.
Imagine that! Here it was, 9:56 a.m., and the mailman had already tried to fit that Metal Architect Swing Arm Lamp into EmBee!Except he hadn't. I don't like the people at the dead mouse smelling post office misleading Amazon. When I got home, at 11:30, nobody had mail in their box. And the keys were all still stuck in the four-compartment package delivery box. Hick picked up the mail around 5:30 when he got home, and I had an orange card to pick up a package.
THEY KNEW THAT ALL ALONG! That this package is too big. How hard is it to have a standard message reading: "Package too big for delivery. Pick up at local post office." This makes town-dwelling people think that if they had ONLY SAT AT HOME, they could have gotten their package at 9:56 a.m.
Rodent-stinkers! I don't love them, love them, love them, love them. Don't wanna get down on my knees and hug them. I want to hit them with the rock of ages...
8 comments:
Oh, a little Paul Simon (without his curly-haired friend Art) today. I actually have this album (33 1/3, to prove I can do fractions/mixed numbers too), complete with Paul, bare-chested, looking like he was wearing a blanket of shag carpeting.
When it comes to the package... I think you should sue. People go to court for everything else, you might as well. Didn't it cause psychological scars, worried you might not have the chance to go get it? Didn't it cause you stress, thinking you should have stayed home... and then found even if you'd stayed home, it still would not have gotten delivered?
Sue!
A tad pissed off, are we?
Sioux,
You did that on purpose, didn't you, Madam? I SEE what you did there! Talking about Paul's shag-carpeted chest, then beginning the next sentence talking about THE PACKAGE!
I actually picked up the package today, and it was GIGANTIC, and awkward. It's still in T-Hoe's rear. I'm pretty sure the #1 son will think it's spectacular.
I actually did NOT go there, but since YOU did...
The package is gigantic?
And it's in a rear?
Still?
And it's something your oldest will admire?
Oh my.
fishducky,
That's pretty much how I roll! And there's no TAD about it!
Sioux 2,
Well...#1 IS a riddle, wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma. He probably knows that quote, too.
I could hardly walk down the dead mouse smelling steps with that package. It wasn't heavy, just awkward, and the contents shifted. It's something #1 asked for. I would never take it upon myself to order such an item.
I am sensing a little rage.
Kathy,
I would compliment you on your perceptiveness, but I think my "little rage" could probably be seen from the moon.
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