Wednesday, September 16, 2015

WCW - Is A Man. With Two Ns and Giant Balls.

Today's WCW is...a Man. A Man with two Ns and giant balls.

It's not like she needs the advertising, either. She has a bazillion followers already. I have like, three. Which is fine, that's how I like it. I couldn't write on command or because an editor told me I had to meet a deadline in order to sell widgets anyway. You know I don't endorse much, so when I do it's like a big deal. She tells it like it is and spells shit correctly. She doesn't sugar coat anything and isn't sucking up to anyone just to fit in with the cool kids.

Plus, she looks like one of my most BFF-iest F's in the Universe (who also has giant balls), so I think once I laid my eyes on her I was smitten even after being swayed by her smooth talk.

She took her blog to book form. And

Let's just take a second to appreciate the similarities between
her cover cupcake and my "stand up" Pooh Bear, shall we?

If you asked my children what this was, they'd think I wrote it and that it's just a straight up list of about six thousand specific names including Mr. Mountain Dew Skate Park and the kid who just called Esten "a retard" three days ago. But it's not. It's a great book, digestible one chapter at a time (perfect for moms who can't get through anything thanks to their Offspringus Interruptus).

She is convincing because she is approachable and believable (even the unbelievable parts) and real. She is my people and part of my tribe.

Today she is my lady crush.

I hate e-readers, but I took a chance on the Kindle version because it was on sale. After reading it I almost wanted to log back in and pay full price. It was so worth every penny. Except the time I started laughing and the Kindle fell out of my hand and I dropped it on my face because I read in bed. That sealed PIWTPITT's fate of being the first and last e-book I will purchase.

That said, I did go back and purchase this work again in a glorious stack of cold, dead trees, and I'm going to give it to one of you. All you have to do is comment below here or on the Facebook link about someone YOU recently wanted to punch in the throat (you don't have to name names, unless you want to), and you'll be entered to win. That's it. Plus, you're competing against like...three people so your odds are fantastic. You're so lucky that I'm so unpopular and that half my redneck friends have blocked me and my liberal nonsense from their feeds and whatnot.

I'll let the Lee Boys fight over who's going to draw a winner on September 25 when I get back from Detroit if I don't get stabbed or mugged for my old ugly green carry-on with the busted zipper and my Shopko purse.

You can tell us about as many people as you want because if you're like me, it's tough to narrow down the field of candidates. But you're still only getting entered once. And I'm not responsible for any fights between spouses that want to punch each other in the throat. Nor for husbands who are missing out on this because it's "hunting season" and there's no wi-fi on the mountain. Tough shit, guys.

Thursday, September 10, 2015

Retrieving Keys Locked in Your Car - In 10 Steps or Less

I don't typically do tutorials here at the DayLeeFix. It's not really a DIY kind of blog.

You won't find a recipe here (but I'm thinking about sharing a new cookie with you!).

You won't find directions for a craft or sewing project here, though I'm thinking about taking up voodoo doll-making, for no reason in particular.

But today, I'll walk you through a tutorial on how to retrieve keys that have been locked in your car. You may need more or less steps depending on the make and model of your vehicle.

Step 1: Lock your keys in your car.

This may seem irrelevant, but the manner in which you complete this step is crucial to the remaining steps in the process. For best results, find a busy parking lot, preferably one outside a store that you don't normally patronize because stepping foot inside makes your skin crawl. This is also best achieved during a short period of time wherein you are trying to multitask and are sort of in a crunch for time.

For example, in my case, after dropping Clayton off at football practice, I decided to remedy our "out of eggs and squash" situation at home. I could run to the store, put the groceries away at home, and be back in plenty of time to pick him up.

On arriving at the entrance of the store, I saw that they had frozen fish on sale. It was a much better deal than our usual store, so two went in the cart. Zucchini, squash, chicken, olives, alfredo sauce, and finally....the eggs. Debit card through the reader. Sack the groceries. Note that ToddlerBandit keeps grabbing my phone out of my purse. Peel it out of his protesting little sausage fingers. Shove it in my back pocket. Dodge traffic out to the car, put the groceries in the open lift gate. Put purse in the open lift gate. Close lift gate. here's where things get weird. My car is equipped with this idiot proof feature that will NOT allow you to lock your keys in the car.

Except that apparently this only works with the DOORS, not with.....the lift gate. Once I pushed the automatic close button on the hatch, it slowly lowered and locked. With my keys securely inside. I didn't know this until I tried to open the rear driver door to insert my child snugly in his car seat and realized the door was locked. The lift gate was locked. Every.damn.thing.was.locked.


Step 2: Text your spouse. He has the companion set.

Keep your message precise.

For example:

"Are you anywhere around win I with car keys?"
"Win I"

Stupid goddamn auto correct. Stupid goddamn Winco. I don't even like this store. My phone doesn't want to acknowledge its existence. It never changes COSTCO. It knows Costco, because Costco is not an asshole.

Wait for a response and get no response. Proceed to step 3.

Step 3: Call your spouse. 

Call your spouse. Let it ring. Let it ring and ring and ring. Hear the stupid lady on the outgoing message tell you that the person you are trying to reach isn't answering because he obviously doesn't count you high on his priority list of callers whose calls he would like to accept. Hang up without leaving a message.

Assume that he is busy. He is working, and he's pretty professional, and even though we live in the most goddamn boring town where nothing ever happens (which you are thankful for) some asshole must have picked RIGHT NOW to commit a crime. Or he might just be out of cell range. Since you know that there is a group of women who stalk his every move when he's out of your sight, proceed to step 4.

Step 4: Text the two dispatchers you think MIGHT be working and whose numbers you have in your phone.

Those bitches always know where he's at.

For example:

"Are you working?"

Times two.

Wait for a response and get no response.  Proceed to step 5.

Step 5: Get the Hell out of the sun.

Begin to realize that Fall has arrived, which means you need a scarf in the morning and a thong bikini in the afternoon. The schizophrenic weather pattern (and the stress of the situation) are making you sweat. Wonder if you should switch to Degree pit stick.

Take ToddlerBandit into the far area of the mall that nobody seems to give a shit about. Notice that they have put small tables and chairs in that area for no apparent reason. Notice that Bath and Body Works is having a sale. Remember that your purse is in the car. With fish. Begin a plan to feed your spouse tainted hot car fish for dinner tomorrow.

Let ToddlerBandit push the button on the automatic door repeatedly until he purposely gets his head wedged between the door and the safety rail. Tell him to stop. Watch as he refuses to listen to you. Watch as the two bitches power walking laps around the mall give you side eye like you're a shitty mom. Ignore them. Begin to get anxious about a lack of response from the three texts and one phone call you have made. Begin to wonder if some major event is tying up the law enforcement resources and has the dispatchers shagging more calls than they can handle.

Realize that you're sweating despite the air conditioning. Realize that it's definitely stress-sweat. Realize that you have to pee. Curse the fact that the mall doesn't have a public bathroom and the other fact that you JUST WENT before you left the house and you shouldn't have to pee right now. Wonder whether you might have a UTI and whether you should see a urologist. Decide that no, if anyone is going to see a urologist, it should be your spouse. For a vasectomy. Remember that you've forgotten for the last almost 3 months to make him an appointment. Wonder why he can't make his own goddamn appointment because he is a Decide it's best you make the appointment because it's the closest you'll get to cutting him with a scalpel yourself. Wonder whether the urologist would LET you do the cutting. Realize the urologist would still bill your insurance even if he let you do all the work. Asshole.

Proceed to step 6.

Step 6: Text the jailer who you think MIGHT be working and whose number you have in your phone.

That bitch is my backup to the other bitches, she just works a little further away.

For example:

"Are you working?"

Get immediate response that she is, but she is getting ready to leave.

Let her know what your situation is. Read the response that she is on it and know for all the times you have said you don't have any friends, you really have some really great friends who absolutely don't let you down.

Read her response that they located him. At home. Eating his lunch. And that they've radioed him to tell him to call me.

Respond with a litany of words, including the F one.

Vow to kiss her right on the mouth next time you see her anyway.

Proceed to Step 7.

Step 7: Answer call from spouse.

Explain the situation. Know that he is on his way. Except for the stop by the office first. Because he left his keys there. Of course.

Step 8: Wait

After the sweating has subsided, you may return to the outdoors. Find a Red Box. Spend six million hours randomly pointing at letters and numbers in the picture titles while ToddlerBandit rattles them off like he's in the third grade. Accidentally point to a title with a skeleton face on it and spend six million hours calming down a kid screaming "SCAWEEEEEEEYYYYY" at the top of his lungs. Place your hand over the offending title and proceed with your game.

Say "Thank you" to seven hundred and eighty two people who stroll by and remark on how adorable ToddlerBandit's hair is.

Say "Thank you" to the Norse God of Kirkland Diapers for letting him not shit his pants in the past 45 minutes.

Step 9: Receive text from dispatcher #1

Receive text indicating she is not at work. Respond that the crisis is averted. Chat about her upcoming career move. Know that you are really happy for her, but sad for the remaining dispatchers and note that you will need more contacts in dispatch going forward. Obviously.

Step 10: The slow-roll unlock

Once you see your spouse arrive, begin walking toward the car. He will slow-roll next to it and push "unlock" on his fob. He will not get out of his car. You do not run to his window and slobber kisses upon him because people already think he's there to arrest someone and you don't want to look like a skank who is trying to avoid jail. You do not want him to look like the kind of cop who exchanges favors. He is a professional and you help to maintain that standard. Casually talk to him through the passenger door. Tell him "Thank you" and proceed to check the door before he leaves the parking lot again.

And that's it. Ten easy steps. And you can, too! Good luck with YOUR next keys-locked-in-car project. I hope it turns out as successfully as mine.

PS: Step 11: Receive text from dispatcher #2

Who in all fairness was probably sleeping through this whole thing. Thank her anyway. Know that you really, REALLY do have some great friends. Know that you only know them because of your spouse. Add to list of things you love him for. Like rescuing you in your situation. And being a great dad. And opening the really hard jars. Decide to postpone his appointment for a little while longer.