Douchebag sighting!

I've been driving around for two days with the gas light on. Sometimes I like to tempt fate like that, not knowing where or when my car will slow to a halt. Will I make it to the gas station? Will I make it home? Will my car run out of gas on the freeway off-ramp? (Yeah, that totally did happen.) It's how I like to live my life. On the edge.

After work tonight I decided fate had been tempted plenty and I didn't want to piss it off any more than I already am, so I stopped at the Chevron on my way home. And there he was.

Douchebag. Toolbox. Whatever your favorite descriptive term is, this guy fits the bill. He was buying cigarettes with no shirt on, and that right there screams class. I know it's hot out, if it was socially acceptable I wouldn't have been wearing pants for the past 4 days. But I'm a lady and I have been. Well, not pants, skirts and shorts, but it's the principle of it all.

Dbag is now walking toward his car and I can see his underpants. Not just a little of his underpants, like his toolish plaid cargo pants are hanging UNDER his butt and I can see his gray underpants (at least I hope they were gray and not just dirty) and his WHOLE BUTT. Too much guy, too much. He and his girlfriend (!) walk to his car, which, for some reason, has a giant sticker of a hand grenade on the back windshield. I don't understand this at all, and am fairly certain he doesn't know why he has it either.

Then I saw it. The coup de grace. The piece de resistance. His license plate. Are you ready for it? Because I'm not sure you are. All right, if you're sure.

"OH FACE" Yeah. As in, "I'm going to show her my o face." Please. That was when I started freaking out. I knew I had to call someone, but who? Everyone I've ever met needed to hear about this, but I decided to call Allie because I knew she could truly understand the contemptibleness of her new teammate. (Aaand, that just might be my new favorite word.) Unfortunately I had to leave a message, but I tried to stay on point and with no mention of my laundry, overdue library books, or gas problems (my voice mails can last HOURS, beware) told of my glorious find.

I do hope to run into him again someday. I'll be keeping my eyes peeled for that license plate.

Deutschland uber alles!

My mom and I were talking tonight about all the horrifying German fairy tales and nursery rhymes she grew up hearing and then passed on to me and my two younger brothers. We were discussing my favorite one, which involved my mom or dad bouncing us up and down on their knees, reciting the German poem/song, and when they'd get to the end (the Ploomps! part) they'd open their legs and let us "drop" to the ground.

I can't believe I found it online without knowing how to spell anything. Here's the German version, even though no one will be able to read it, I have to get it out there for all to see, it brings back a lot of memories for me:

Hoppe hoppe Reiter
wenn er fällt, dann schreit er,
fällt er in den Teich,
find't ihn keiner gleich.

Hoppe hoppe Reiter
wenn er fällt, dann schreit er,
fällt er in den Graben,
fressen ihn die Raben.

Hoppe hoppe Reiter
wenn er fällt, dann schreit er,
fällt er in den Sumpf,
dann macht der Reiter... Plumps!

So awesome, I loved it. A while back we found (and have since lost again) my Oma's old book of nursery rhymes and there's a horrible one about kids sucking their thumbs and hobgoblins coming at night and biting their thumbs off to make them stop. It's pretty harsh. I love the Germans.

This song was in there too. I'm sure you can already guess that it's not the best rhyme to be singing to young children; fortunately (ha) my mom never taught us German. The English version goes a little something like this (the only thing I remembered was about the swamp and the ravens):

Hoppa hoppa rider,
when he falls he cries,
if he falls in the hole,
the raven will eat him

Hoppa Hoppa rider,
when he falls he cries,
if he falls into the swamp,
the rider makes a "plop"

I have no good way of ending this post after something like that. So let me just ask everyone that if it's possible to get your hands on an old German nursery rhyme book, please do it. Just keep your eyes peeled.

Or the goblins will get you.

My super power.

I've discovered it. It involves unwittingly forcing people to apologize for things I did wrong.

Yesterday I was pulling into a spot in the Tilly's parking lot (which is also the parking lot for the Cedar Mill Library, the Walgreen's, the dog groomer, the accountant, two barber shoppes, etc.) and I bumped into the car in front of me.

So I'm scootching and bumping trucks in the parking lot. Of course the owner of the truck is in her vehicle when I bump her, because I have never once gotten away with anything ever. She gets out and looks (I was going like negative miles per hour, there's obviously not going to be any damage) and then informs me I should be more careful. I apologized and told her that I was merely trying not to hang my car's ass out of his spot because she was entirely too far over the line.

Side note: the lines in parking lots are not, will not be, and have never been mere suggestions. Stay in them. Pretend you're four and coloring.

What began as me hitting another car ended with her apologizing to me for being over the line. I told her not to worry about it, but she should pay more attention in the future.

I didn't say it was an AMAZING super power. But I will only use it for good. And probably a little evil.