Empty Box Equals Shrinking Pants

Empty Cookie Box

The blogging community is made up of an interesting, eclectic group of waggish individuals. Itsme is one such delightful person. She had a "Cookies for Captions" contest on her blog "ItsMeCissy", which turned out to be loads of fun. Her blog post is titled Scary Picture...and it is. Check it out.

 Because ItsMe has a generous heart, she sent cookies to all of us who submitted a caption. There were at least two people who wrote more than one caption to be sure they got a box of cookies, but I'm not telling who.

Three of the delectable cookie creations were (yes, were...they're all gone) cranberry-white chocolate-coconut cookies, chocolate chip-walnut cookies, and oatmeal-cinnamon-raisin cookies. Boy, were they ever good! Thanks, ItsMe. You are a super baker!

There's only one major problem. The cookies made my pants shrink. Now I feel like a blivet. For those of you who are too young to know what a blivet is; it's a WW II term which means trying to stuff 10 pounds of horse pucky into a five pound bag. 

Thanks anyway, ItsMe, the cookies were delicious. When is the next contest?

Horse Hair in Your Underwear

My new business is called Itch This, or IT for short. It's become quite popular.

The premise for the business is "payback" to husbands who are unkind and just plain disrespectful to their wives. Here's how it works: I get a call from the wife who is a victim of rudeness. The teary-eyed spouse then puts her husband's underwear in a plastic bag and delivers the bag to my house. My task is to launder the undergarments (boxers, briefs, tee shirts) in a special washing machine designed for dirty, hairy, horse blankets.

Everything (underwear and horse blankets) are washed together, then dried, folded and put into clean garment bags. It's a win-win situation. My horse blankets get cleaned, and the dispirited wife gets retribution along with a few good horse laughs.

The only one who has a problem is the boorish husband who can't figure out why he keeps itching uncontrollably all day.

Is Customer Service Dead?

This is how I felt yesterday.

What in the name of all that is holy has happened to customer service? Yesterday I called a doctor's office to get a fax number so I could send medical records to them. The person on the other end of the phone was a total idiot. Here's how the conversion went:

Other person (idiot): " Dr. XYZ's office." 

Me (Horse Pucky Queen aka Grambo): "Hi, I'm Pam Beers and I need a fax numnber so I can send medical records over to Dr. XYZ."

Other person: "I'm the office manager. The receptionist is off today and she is the one who gives out that information. She'll be back tomorrow."

Me: "You've got to be kidding! Do you mean to tell me you can't give me the fax number because it's not your job!"

Other person: "That's right. You'll have to call back tomorrow."

Me: "That's the most ridiculous, idiotic, horse pucky thing I've ever heard. Let me put it another way, give me the fax number now, or I'll be sure you never work for any doctor ever again."

Other person: The fax number is .....

Me: "Thank you and have a nice day."

I really think customer service is dead.