QUOTE OF THE DAY

"Happy Halloween, or as we diabetics call it, Armageddon." -Tony Politzer

GINGERS: The Reckoning

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

So, a girlfriend of mine just texted me a picture of her son, dressed as "Chucky" for Halloween. 

First: No. Chucky was a Ginger to the worst degree, and deserves to be accurately represented. Insults like this only perpetuate the Gingers day of reckoning. I mean, this is a pretty half-assed costume. All I'm saying is that if he showed up on my doorstep, I'd be inclined to withhold candy, on the basis of principle.

Second: Gingers are terrifying. This isn't as much my opinion as it is my mother's. She used to say if she ever had a kid with orange hair, she'd flush it down the toilet. So imagine her surprise when I was born Ginger. It was a scary time… for both of us.

Years later I sent her flowers on my birthday, thanking her for not flushing me. Not the first time I've been called inappropriate, but certainly the first time I've been judged so harshly by a florist.

Customer service isn't what it used to be.

QUOTE OF THE DAY

"…how absurd human beings are and how magnificent." -Benjamin Zander

SUBMISSION: The Dangers of Selling Your AppleTV

SUBMITTED BY: David, FL

*I'm interested to know what this naked body looks like to be considered "unnerving" 

Piggy-backing on the above, I'd like to add a cautionary tale to those less technologically inclined (like myself): pics from texts have a funny way of streaming to places they shouldn't. Point in case, the pic of a ginormous schlong dangling out the bottom of a pair of cut-off jean shorts, which I was left to believe belonged to my Uncle after it streamed over his Apple TV whilst house sitting. You try sleeping after that.

I was relieved to find out that, not only was that NOT my Uncle's dick, he also doesn't wear jean cut-offs. But the damage had already been done. 

*No word on who the owner of the random penis is, or why it was in the custody of my Uncle. Some things are best left unanswered. 

I'm Officially Crazy

I may have expressed a measure of poor judgement when I shared yesterday that I had a sex toy delivered to work. To that point, I offer exhibit (B) in my defense:

So there it is: I'm "mentally disabled." But my dog can now fly for free! Bitches.

Why You Shouldn't Have Personal Packages Shipped to Work

I received the following email from the mail services department where I work after I had a package with "illicit material" shipped to me at the office. In my defense, the apartment complex I live in has a door code that thwarts FedEx and UPS deliveries more than burglars and rapists. I didn't feel like running an errand (totally defeats the purpose of delivery), so I had my new toy sent to work.

I'm an idiot.

Welcome To My Ridiculous Life

Whether you're here by design, or you just happened to stumble across me, welcome. Odds are it's not by chance and that, in fact, YOU (like me) have experienced a ridiculous life.

This site is dedicated to any and all embarrassing events, mistakes, accidents and the like that make us human and life ridiculous. I hope that, through shared experiences, we can all feel a little less alone and comforted by our commonality as opposed to our differences.

Please feel free to submit pictures, musings, anecdotes, etc. for inclusion on the blog. If you prefer to remain anonymous, I'll respect your wishes. If you would rather go commando, I'll respect you even more.

Email your submissions to: KEC310@gmail.com

Welcome to My Ridiculous Life. Remember, it's just life, people. No need to take it so seriously.