Scratchy Glitter

Observations for the easily irritated.

Category: Mildly Amusing Adventures

Fun With Public Transportation

white bus on road near cliff

Photo by Mads Thomsen on Pexels.com

Well, not as much fun as this picture depicts.

Rom said, “You’re lucky your blog isn’t famous, because those people on the bus would beat you up.” Luckily, I’m in no danger of fame.

A woman today interrupted the guy who was talking to her to say, “You gotta hear this, this is hilarious–the other day on the radio, Billy Bob and Tom {I believe it’s just Bob and Tom} were talking about how they don’t make cars the way they used to. They said now you have to plug them in and they don’t go very far.” Um, that’s not hilarious. And why is it silly that you have to recharge electric cars? You have to put gas in other cars, or they don’t go very far. We haven’t invented a perpetual motion machine, although Cat Glamour when Rom’s trying to brush her comes pretty close.

FUN WITH TV COMMERCIALS

“You shouldn’t use a product that treats your butt like a joke.” Well, I doubt I’d like someone who took their butt too seriously.

“My hiney’s clean! I’m Charmin’ clean!” is bad enough, but now they follow it up with, “Also try our new moist towelettes,” or whatever they call those things. Wait. Aren’t you implying that one’s hiney is not, in fact, clean, if a second product is required afterward? I suppose they could take refuge in the legal definition of Charmin clean. They add to their grossness by showing you a demonstration of someone wiping synthetic excrement off their…arm. It’s like the old joke…”What’s the difference between toilet paper and a shower curtain?” “I don’t know, what?” “Well, I’m not inviting you over to my house.”

I think my current least favorite is the mouthwash one where they show you a bunch of gross mouths and say why they’re gross–“Garlic breath! Dry-mouth breath! Morning breath!”

CAMPAIGN DISCLOSURE

As regards my presidential campaign:

–My advertising budget is zero.

–I am not releasing my tax returns because finding them would involve getting up.

 

 

 

 

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Restroom News

green leafed plants on toilet bowl

Photo by Deeana Creates on Pexels.com

I apologize to anyone who thought there’d be another semi-lyrical perfume review. Yeah, I should have two different blogs. Nah, I’m not going to do it.

DID YOU KNOW?

The restroom at Schnucks has a unique-as-far-as-I-can-tell dual-flush feature. “Pull UP for liquid waste, pull DOWN for solid waste.” But what if it’s both? Or what if you didn’t read the sign on the wall, which is, after all, behind you, and you already flushed and NOW IT’S TOO LATE?!

AND DID YOU KNOW?

I am old and wise enough to remember the history behind the Charmin Soft vs. Strong debate. Originally there was a super-soft toilet paper brand called White Cloud. The Charmin people bought them out, called it Charmin White Cloud for awhile, then changed the name to Charmin Ultra Soft. The original Charmin then became Charmin Ultra Strong. The other TP companies then had to be copycats and make their own two-different-formula claims, saddling us with a false dichotomy ever since. (Now I’m wishing I’d called the post Saddled with a False Dichotomy. But how could I have known I was going to write that phrase?) (No, I’m not going to go back up and change it. You’re lucky I even proofread these things.) 

IN NON-BATHROOM NEWS

There was a young couple at the bus stop, in black sweatshirts that said “The King” and “His Queen.” Her Majesty’s nobility was in question, however, for verily, she did spit upon the sidewalk in my presence. Whereupon His Highness peered into her face and inquired, “Is that piercing on your nose still open?”

 

This Is Not a Story

buildings bus business car

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

OK, I did not see when I inserted this photo that it’s a trolley, not a bus, but it will have to do, because I don’t know how to dis-insert it.

Hey, I made up “dis-insert” and spellcheck didn’t correct me! It guess it’s thinking, She hyphenated it, so it must be legit. Or maybe spellcheck has just given up on me.

AT ANY RATE, Facebook has decided that my status updates are a “story,” prompting me with “Add to your story!” Um, I just wanted to mention that the cat threw up today. Yes, that is what my last post on Facebook was. This is why we have the Internet.

AT ANY RATE, my life is not a “story,” but a series of disjointed episodes. Here is one.

A PERFECT STORM ON THE BUS

My heart sank as I approached the bus stop today, because it was already occupied by the Family of Five. This is five people, a couple, two daughters and a son, who prefer to spend their money on smartphones for each person rather than on body wash and laundry detergent. I always let them get on the bus first, so I can sit as far away as possible.

The man of the house was wearing a t-shirt that said, “I Used To Be a People Person, Until People Changed That.” Funny, that’s the same thing I was thinking when I saw him!

When I came up, they were discussing swords, in particular those seen in video games. The talk then shifted, logically enough, to guns. The lady of the house asked, “What’s the largest caliber gun you’ve ever shot? Mine was a Browning machine gun. The guy who gave it to me told me not to ask how he got it. I used it to kill a chicken. That chicken didn’t even get the whole squawk out.” Her daughter then asked, sensibly enough, “Why did you use a machine gun to kill a chicken? You wouldn’t be able to eat it.” She said, “Well, they were diseased chickens! They couldn’t be sold!” Come to think of it, Killing Diseased Chickens With a Machine Gun would have been a good title for this post.

Our heroine then asked, rhetorically enough, “You wanna know what things I most missed when the house burned down? My three swords, and my Hellraiser action figures. It took me fifteen years and thousands of dollars to collect those.” Who knew?

Once on the bus, my heart sank further still when Dave got on at Walmart. You may remember Dave as the guy whose idea of a clever pickup line was, “You look like you’re goin’ for that wannabe-Goth look.” The bus was crowded, so Dave and his fifty Walmart bags had to be next to me. Dave then regaled us with a list of every celebrity he knows of who came from Tennessee. Followed by every corporation with headquarters in Tennessee. I don’t know what got him started on that state. Also, Dave has no indoor voice, so having him next to me made me want to crawl out of my skin. I’m just glad he wasn’t talking to me, because he can’t tell when you’re trying to ignore him, and kept saying to the bus driver, “You know who else came from Tennessee? Hey! You hear me?” Kind of like the camel in the Geico commercial. If he had tried conversing with me, he’d have been sorry. It’s like it was at work–“Well, I hate having someone sit with me, too, but what can you do? You have to make small talk.” Watch. Me.

Then the guy on the other side of me said, “I’m on my way to the cemetery, to check if a couple motherfackers are still in there.” Um, OK.

As if in recompense, the bus on the way home was absolutely empty, so I enjoyed my private charter service.

A TOPICAL NOTE

This is the first Super Bowl I’ve ever had an opinion about. My opinion is that neither team deserves to be there.

NEW FRONTIERS IN CORPORATE WEASELDOM

I denounce thee, CVS! You have stickers on all your perfumes, saying “Special Price.” And the special price is…the same price as usual, just in red and yellow lettering. Fie upon you! I don’t know what “fie” is, but obviously it’s something you don’t want to get on you.  For the record, I did not buy any perfume, but I did note approvingly that they stock Aramis, my favorite men’s scent, and possibly my favorite smell ever.

Drinking Gin in the Rain: Angeliques sous la Pluie

road landscape nature forest

Photo by veeterzy on Pexels.com

…by Jean-Claude Ellena

Top notes: angelica, bergamot, pink pepper, juniper

Base notes: cedar, musk

Jean-Claude Ellena specializes in scents that are simple and light, usually inspired by nature. When I first smelled this one, I thought, “Gin and tonic, followed by buttered toast.” But several years later, with my Mad Men-style upbringing fading in the rear-view mirror (especially since I’ve never actually had a gin and tonic–that was more my parents’ generation), this perfume is growing on me. I’ve never smelled angelica herb, but I’m familiar with juniper, and “Angelica in the Rain” is the smell of juniper in the rain, bottled. It’s amazing how this captures the smell of rain–it actually smells “wet,” fresh and cool, with a bit of wet pavement added. Like the juniper bushes in my yard, growing next to the street.

The drydown is warmer, less wet, but still green, and woody with cedar. However, the whole show is over very quickly. The scent is very light and does not last long, but is so evocative while it lasts. Only a faint trace of woodsiness remains, like a memory.

Rating: 4 out of 5

Now for our Three Criteria:

–Does this suit my personality? Very much. It’s a “blue-gray” sort of scent, and probably the most spare and austere I’ve ever smelled.

–Comfort level–This is too light to cause any sensory overload. I’d have no problem spraying it on first thing in the morning, in fact, it would probably improve my mood. OR WHEN I HAVE TO GO TO THE DENTIST TOMORROW AFTERNOON, IN THE FROZEN COLD, BECAUSE A CROWN FELL OFF MY TOOTH LAST NIGHT. For the record, that will bother me less than getting up early in the morning, for any reason, would.

–Does it suit my preferences? Well, it’s taught me to appreciate the smell of juniper, but honestly, I would prefer my rain to fall on roses. (Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens actually are a few of my favorite things.) So this one  might rate more as Something I Think I Should Wear.

FINAL VERDICT: I don’t think I’m the rightful wearer of Angeliques sous la Pluie, but, like I said, it is growing on me.

The Four Last Things

close up photography of black animal

Photo by Magda Ehlers on Pexels.com

This photo came up when I searched for “shoulders.” One would think I had searched for “rat’s ass.”

The Four Last Things are death, judgement, heaven, and hell. But instead of those, I offer:

MY TWO MOST NOTABLE SHOULDER EXERCISES

I visited a physical therapist for my frozen shoulder, at the ominously-named Comprehensive Pain Center.

Least-favorite exercise: You know when someone twists your arm up behind your back? Well, I have to do that to myself, with the aid of a towel. Who knew it was actually good for you? (Now Nick wants to know if he can be my personal trainer. Only if you pay me.)

Most-favorite: The one where I just lie down. Yes, I just have to lie down, and force myself to relax. Of course, it has to be in a specific position, again with the aid of a towel. And of course, I have to be forced  to relax.

AND TWO SIGNS OF THE END TIMES ON YOUTUBE

“It makes you feel five minutes closer to death” is a phrase I once read in a review, I don’t remember of what. It’s become Rom’s and my standard way of saying something is a complete waste of time. So, two things that will make you feel five (or however many) minutes closer to death:

  1. Videos of people unwrapping packages.
  2. Videos of people playing video games.

Raw Material

cash dollars hands money

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

I’ve been suffering from a dearth of material since I retired, but I realized I have, at the moment, two past events and two future events to recount, PLUS a segue between the two categories, so here goes–counterfeit money + a 90th birthday party + physical therapy + perfume review introduction (you thought I’d forgotten about those, didn’t you?).

ADVENTURES IN COUNTERFEITING

I found a $20 bill on the floor at the Dollar General. If I’d seen someone drop it, I’d have returned it to them, but no one was around, so I snagged it.

It was crumply and had weird markings on it, but no more so than some other bills I’ve had. But I presented it at McDonald’s, and they knew it was wrong right away. “We’ll have to keep this, if you don’t mind,” the employee told me, but of course they’d have kept it whether I minded or not. Easy come, easy go, I said, and explained how I’d gotten hold of it. I also explained this to the nice officer who came to pick it up.

I tell this story belatedly because Nick, who was the first person I told it to after Rom, felt compelled to post it on Facebook.

Perhaps this is what my fortune cookie meant when it said I’d inherit some money this year, but I didn’t exactly inherit it, unless someone had fallen down dead in the dollar store and dropped it. I am also picturing the conversation if I had seen it fall out of someone’s hand–“Excuse me, you dropped this,” “No, never mind, it’s fake anyway.”

SOCIAL PAGE

I attended my mother-in-law’s 90th birthday party yesterday. An impressive number of people braved the cold and snow to be there. (In the interests of accuracy, I must note that she will not actually turn 90 until Wednesday.) It is the job of Trexa and myself at these gatherings to sit in the corner and mutter about how loud everyone else is. I am betting this was the loudest 90th birthday party I’ll ever attend, and possibly the loudest anyone will ever attend. Unfortunately, the corner we were sitting in was right in front of the card/gift table, and people kept handing me things and asking me to put them on the table behind me. However, I’ve developed a condition called “frozen shoulder,” and I can’t really reach behind me. So I’d hand the items to Trexa, and she’d put them on the table. Yes, it takes two people to put a birthday card in a basket.

Now this is where the segue comes in. You might remember my dislocated finger 2 years ago, and the 5 months of therapy that followed. Well, I start physical therapy for this shoulder tomorrow, and it should be good for a few weeks of whining at least.

Also coming up at some point–reviews of the entire Frederic Malle perfume line. They will be widely interspersed, though, so you can gather your strength between reviews.

 

 

Vampire Cat

white and black cat lying on floor

Photo by Min An on Pexels.com

Disclaimer: Photograph is an approximation of the cat in question.

Sometimes living with small predators can make you think twice. Yesterday Rom cut his hand just-short-of-needing-stitches badly while woodcarving, and came in dripping blood on the floor. I started wiping it up, with Cat Esmerelda beside me, watching . Then Rom asked me to help him bandage it in the bathroom. When I came back to the kitchen, the remaining drops of blood were gone. So we have a vampire cat. It’s like a vampire bat, but without wings.

“Vampire Cat, Vampire Cat

Does whatever a vampire does

Can she fly through the air?

She cannot, she’s a cat.”

Or, “Vampire Cat, doo doo doo doo doo doo…” (And why has there been no word of a Baby Shark movie? Sure, there’s not much to work with, but that’s never stopped Hollywood before.)

The weird thing is, Ez seems like the least bloodthirsty cat we’ve had. She doesn’t bite or scratch, even in play. She’s just a little scavenger.

FURTHER THOUGHTS ON MY FORTHCOMING INHERITANCE

The fortune said an “unexpected” amount of money. Well, any amount would be unexpected at this point. Also, it would be hard to unexpectedly inherit money “in bed,” unless you’re Melania Trump. Speaking of which, Donald said he prefers to call it a “strike” rather than a “shutdown.” Well, I prefer to call it a tantrum. So there.

Nick is not doing well at sucking up, thinking that I am actually endeared by his insolence.

He was tickled to find out (hey, maybe he should be tickled! How much money would that be worth, hmm?) that my username in the International Perfume Community is CobraRose. Hey, the purpose of the Internet is to give yourself a cool nickname.

Brought To You By the Voices In My Head

person holding string lights photo

Photo by David Cassolato on Pexels.com

…because I had a dream recently in which someone asked me to post again. Yes, that’s sad. No, I am not going to Make a Resolution To Post More Often, because you’ve heard it all before.

BUT YOU NEED TO KNOW–

–that the self-service kiosks at McDonald’s are full of poop bacteria! POOP!! Yet another reason not to use them. Of course, that was a very small study. Perhaps the customers on the West Side of Evansville are cleaner people. And while we’re on the subject, when the study came out saying that restroom hand dryers just blow poop bacteria (or “poopteria,” as scientists call it) back onto your hands, I expected to see them taken out of restaurants immediately, but so far I have been disappointed.

Speaking of germs, I am currently battling a cold. Well, perhaps “battling” is too strong a word, as it’s a very mild cold. Mild enough that I did not bother telling Nick, who took me to Canton Inn for my Christmas present. Actually, first he took me to the National Guard Armory, because he left his wallet in his office. He didn’t let me see his office, though.

A WORLD’S FIRST!!

After our meal, I said, “Time to find out about our futures in our fortune cookies!”

“Our future?” Nick said nervously. “You know you have to add ‘in bed’ to those.”

“Our respective futures, then,” I said.

I

got

an

actual

fortune.

“You will inherit an unexpected amount of money within the year.”

“Should I start sucking up, then?” said Nick, knowing I have no children (that I know of).

Notice they did not say a large amount of money. And they did say I’d inherit it, not win the lottery or find it on the street. Maybe Nick will die and leave me some. I bet he didn’t think of that. Whatever it is, it will happen within the year. I don’t know if that’s the calendar year or a year from today, but at this point they’re almost the same. I’ll keep you posted on my inheritance progress.

DID YOU KNOW?

Fortune cookie messages are not written by Chinese soothsayers, but by hack writers like me.

 

 

Baby Shark: Review and Analysis

The above video was being played by a child repeatedly at McDonald’s. Watch it now (praying that it will not then become an earworm forever, but your prayer will be in vain), and we will discuss.

The video opens with a pair of fish engaged in animated conversation. But THEN, the shadow of a shark looms over them. We are alarmed, until the little yellow shark smiles, and we are relieved to discover it’s just a baby after all. It sings:

“Baby Shark, doo doo doo doo doo doo

Baby Shark, doo doo doo doo doo doo

Baby Shark, doo doo doo doo doo doo

Baby Shark!” (subtitles are provided in case you’re having trouble following along)

Baby Shark then swims behind some sponges, but then a bigger pink shark emerges and sings:

“Mommy Shark, doo doo doo doo doo doo

Mommy Shark, doo doo doo doo doo doo

Mommy Shark, doo doo doo doo doo doo

Mommy Shark!”

She is readily recognized as a female by her lipstick and long eyelashes. She swims behind the clump of sponges, and a bigger blue shark emerges. (Are you sensing a pattern here?) In a deeper, booming voice, he sings:

“Daddy Shark, doo doo doo doo doo doo

Daddy Shark, doo doo doo doo doo doo

Daddy Shark, doo doo doo doo doo doo

Daddy Shark!”

I thought they would start with the narrative exposition at this point, but no, the entire cast is not on scene yet. Next to emerge from the convenient bank of sessile organisms is a shark with wrinkles (I kid you not) and spectacles, in what I guess is meant to be a faded shade of pink. She is, of course,

“Grandma Shark, doo doo doo doo doo doo

Grandma Shark, doo doo doo doo doo doo

Grandma Shark, doo doo doo doo doo doo

Grandma Shark!”

Gee, who will emerge from the sponges next? By now, I was sort of hoping that Grandma Shark was a widow. But no–he’s green! With white eyebrows! And a white mustache! He is, he informs us,

“Grandpa Shark, doo doo doo doo doo doo

Grandpa Shark, doo doo doo doo doo doo

Grandpa Shark, doo doo doo doo doo doo

Grandpa Shark!”

Luckily, my fears that they would introduce both sets of grandparents, and maybe some cousins, were unfounded, and they now advance the plot.

“Let’s go hunt, doo doo doo doo doo doo

Let’s go hunt, doo doo doo doo doo doo

Let’s go hunt, doo doo doo doo doo doo

Let’s go hunt!”

Oh no! (doo doo doo doo doo doo) we think–they’re going to show small children what sharks actually do! Especially when the little fish join the chorus:

“Run away, doo doo doo doo doo doo

Run away, doo doo doo doo doo doo

Run away!”

An unrealistic note of suspense was introduced in one frame, in which the little fish are chasing the shark family instead for some reason. I did not notice until about my sixth viewing (the things I do for you people…) that there are a couple sea anemones watching all the action. But the smaller fish find, I guess it’s a dead sponge–something with a bunch of holes, at any rate–and dive into it, and, you guessed it, burst into song:

“Safe at last, doo doo doo doo doo doo

Safe at last, doo doo doo doo doo doo

Safe at last, doo doo doo doo doo doo

Safe at last!”

However, they are dangerously elated by their narrow escape, and by the demands of musical theater, because they pop back out of their refuge so they can sing AND DANCE:

“It’s the end, doo doo doo doo doo doo

It’s the end, doo doo doo doo doo doo

It’s the end, doo doo doo doo doo doo

It’s the end!”

Which it indeed is, since the whole Shark family is lurking behind them, brandishing forks and wearing bibs. The little fish notice this and stop smiling, causing the sharks to start smiling, and we fade to black.

The moral of this story: If you’re playing hide and seek, don’t jump out and dance around. It all makes me want a fish sandwich. Doo doo doo doo doo doo.

 

The Hissing of Summer Lawns: Niki de Saint Phalle

nature animal green lizard

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

When Niki de Saint Phalle perfume was recommended to me as one of my dusky scents, I was eager to try it. How could I not be? The bottle is blue glass (favorite color!) with colorful snakes on it, and I have a cobra tattoo on my arm! Plus, it was released in 1987, the year Rom and I got married! How could I not love it? As it turns out, I didn’t, but it is an interesting scent, and definitely unique.

Niki de Saint Phalle was an artist and sculptor, and designed the snake-trimmed bottle for her fragrance. The scent is a combination of many unusual notes–pine, grapefruit, marigold, geranium–and thus smells hissingly green and spiky. It’s a bit too acerbic for my taste, even though I love green scents. But what fascinates me is the picture it evokes–that of a garden in late summer, when the only flowers still blooming in the blazing sun are, you guessed it, marigolds and geraniums. Dry, hot, and pungent. It would be the perfect scent if you love the scent of marigolds. But I don’t.

(Correction: It turns out that NdSP was created in 1982. 1987 is when I first heard of it.)

PART II, NO SEGUE ATTEMPTED

My current least-favorite commercials:

–“My hiney’s clean! I’m Charmin’ clean!” Yeah, it’s OK to show something’s butt if it’s a cartoon. If we learned nothing else from South Park…

–and the mouthwash commercial that shows a bunch of people’s gross mouths and the problems they have–Dry mouth! Garlic mouth! Cotton mouth! Stop showing me this! It’s not even a cartoon! Come to think of it, we did go from end to end here.

Speaking of which, now that “Nausea, heartburn, indigestion, upset stomach, diarrhea!” has been done in country and soul formats, we need a rock version.

‘WHOA, WE’RE HALFWAY THERE, WHOA-OH, GIBBON AND ECLAIR!’

Yes, the quotation marks above are incorrect. This will come out in hearings after I am President.

You know you’re sitting near a nerd when you hear the sentence, “They just rebooted their entire mythos.”

Speaking of nerds, a nerd on the bus solved a thorny theological problem–“God could have created evolution!” I’ve been saying this for years. Well, not on the bus.

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